Ginny Weasley:

The Lion-Snake Prophecies

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter … I merely worship JKR!

Hey all!

Comet Moon: thanks for the complements! Keep reading around HP .. there are some great stories out there … v. cool to hear you and jcd1013 are keeping up to date on my writing!! This story: the Lion-Snake Prophecies: is a re-write of the Lion-Snake and Lightening Child Prophecies (I think bells asked about that too J). There were a few reasons for rewriting it …one I thought the title was of the last one was too long and didn't introduce my story well, plus I had started writing that one with a pretty heavy hand, with Ginny a little too angsty for my taste. All the events that I was writing about there, though, are being redone in this story, so take this one for the truth. The story is essentially the same, though I have upped the tempo, so I'm giving the reader a bit of an earlier clue as to what is going on and ushering the plot along a bit faster. I'm hoping this story will rise better than the last – and I hope you three will tell me if it starts to fall! Hoping for more reviews this time around too .. I mainly stopped the earlier edition because it seemed like not enough people were reading it.

To Lady of the Library, hope you got my reply-email …and hoped too that I answered some of your questions and that you'll start reading the story … (to the rest of you .. haha! I wont tell what I revealed but keep reading and you'll see soon enough!!)

Light love laughter

Enjoy!

rain

Chapter One

Harry showed up later that afternoon on broomstick with Moody and Mundungus Fletcher playing guard duty. Ginny had been helping her mum set the table when they arrived, and found herself scowling angrily at the clock when they had. The time was right, only five in the afternoon, which meant Moody had pushed the group three hours ahead of schedule. Attempting to look inconspicuous, Ginny reached down to her right pant leg and gave her calf a tiny scratch. Hopefully Hiss would get the message and keep quiet. Ginny had planned to return him to the garden after her chores, but now she just hoped to be able to get him out of ear-shot of Harry before he said anything stupid. Too used to whispering along when no one could hear him, Hiss had a rather bad habit of speaking out of mind.

Ginny had spent the morning relaxing in the backyard, playing in the garden and making mud-cakes with Hiss. She had even made him a tower out of sand, crafting small tunnels for him to crawl through. When she came back from snatching a drink from the kitchen, a tiny scrawl beside the moat had read: when snakes rule the world, which she assumed Hiss had written with his tail. Ginny had laughed before scrubbing it out quickly … that would be the day.

Around five o'clock Ron and Hermione had come home. They'd spent the day in the nearby muggle town at the opening of a new bookstore. Usually Ron would have argued against spending their holidays looking through books, but Hermione had been so excited about the prospect that he had gone to Tonks himself and arranged an escort.

Ginny had been in the garden when they'd walked back up the long road towards the Burrow, Tonks in disguise as an elderly grandfather behind them. Ron was helping Hermione up the short steps, and Ginny had paused in her castle-building adventures to quickly examine her friend. The slightly pale cheeks and lightly out-of-breath huffs were the only lingering testaments to the terror of the past two weeks. A shudder passed quickly through her as Ginny remembered when the letter had arrived. She had been doing dishes in the kitchen when the official-looking screech owl had dropped the envelope into mum's surprised hands. The dinner plate mum'd been drying had smashed to ground, and Ginny had stared at her mother in horror when the instant tears began to flow. The family had rushed in at the crash – the twins had been visiting that night and had been outside bashing tables together in the garden – and mum had shakily informed them that Hermione was in critical condition at St. Munglo's and was not expected to live through the night.

Chaos had erupted. The twins started yelling and handing out fistfuls of floo powder; Dad had rushed over to mum had enfolded her in a hug, while Ron had just stood there, statue-still, looking lost. No one cared about the dinner plate.

Ginny hadn't even realized she'd started crying, but when she pulled her youngest brother into a hug, his shirt had come away wet with tears. Ron wouldn't even look at her, but merely took George's offered floo powder and started towards the fireplace. Once there, he'd stepped into it as usual and the family made room for him to go first. But then he'd stopped, as if unable to unwilling to say the destination out loud. So Ginny had gotten in with him, clasped her arms around her brother's waist, dropped both their fist-fulls of floo powder and loudly declared, "St. Munglo's critical ward!" with a voice so shaking, she'd hoped she hadn't gotten the address wrong.

A mediwitch had shown them to Hermione's room. It was laced off with curtains and already full of flowers. Hermione's parents had been sitting beside the bed, their faces empty of emotion, as if they had already been pushed so far beyond thought they had no tears left to fall, no fears left to express. Each held one hand of the deathly-pale Hermione, her bushy hair flat and limp against the pillow. The mediwitch explained in a sotto voice that the family had been visiting in Spain when Hermione had suffered a sudden relapse. She had been cured of the deatheater's curse she'd been hit by in the Department of Mysteries earlier that summer, but apparently she suffered from an extremely rare magical disease, one that hasn't been seen in thousand's of years. The treatment they'd given her had merely delayed the effect of the curse, which had erupted in full force while the family vacationed in Spain. It had taken hours for anyone to understand what was happening to her, and by the time her condition had been discovered, it had almost been too late. Once the curse itself had been effectively lifted, the staff was doing everything they could to help her body heal, but no one could predict whether or not she would recover.

Ron still hadn't said a word by the time the mediwitch had finished. Ginny watched her brother fearfully as the rest of the family found seats outside, not wishing to crowd the small room. Ginny could hear her mother crying from outside the door, and knew the twins would be busy informing the rest of the family.

Hermione's dad looked up as the mediwitch finished. His expression was torn, his only daughter's life hanging on the magic of these witches and wizards whose world he didn't understand. He saw Ron though, staring at Hermione with a stricken expression, and wordlessly made room for him at the bedside. Ginny made her way to the other side, where Hermione's mum sat still, once again crying softly, and the mediwitch had conjured them all chairs.

Ginny remembered touching her friend's hand – it was cold as ice, and awfully blue. Ron rose for a moment to re-tuck the numerous blankets that covered Hermione's still form.

"She hates to be cold," he mumbled quietly, sitting back down at her side.

For some reason, Hermione's mum burst into loud tears at this simple statement, and Ginny reached over to her, taking her open hand and squeezing it tightly. Mr. Granger shed silent tears across the vigil floor, and Ginny could see that he was holding onto Ron's shoulders as a dying man might cling to the life-raft thrown by a neighboring ship.

Their own parents entered after a while, mum fussing, teary-eyed, over Hermione's hair.

"I've always wanted to cut it," she explained in an odd tone, at once wistful and sobbing, "She had such pretty hair …" and of course Mrs. Granger cried even louder at that, and though it might have seemed to no one else present that either had moved, both women were suddenly locked in a tight, teary embrace, weeping together as only a mother can, while their child lay dying.

Harry had arrived shortly after, while the Grangers were exhaustedly accepting a quick dinner from the Weasley twins – which they had had the foresight to arrange. Ginny had barely looked up as he walked in the room, and merely had a quick glance at a tear-lined, guilt-stricken face, before Ron was out of his chair and locked with Harry in a shaking embrace. Harry had tried to comfort him, but it was as if once the flood gates had been released, nothing short of dehydration could stop them.

Harry had patted Ron's back as he cried, while Ginny, her own tears streaming down her face, squeezed Hermione's limp, lifeless hand.

Throughout the night the two families – as well as Harry and Tonks, who had accompanied him – held a vigil around Hermione's bed, each taking a turn holding her hand and whispering encouraging words. The twins declared themselves in charge of refreshments, and kept up a steady stream of tea, coffee, and snacks for the entire night.

Various other people came and went; Dumbledore had arrived soon after Harry, as had several members of the Hogwarts staff. The Granger's heard words of praise from all of them during the hours to come, each professor praising Hermione and the enthusiasm towards learning she had always shown. Professor Flitwick repeated to all who would listen the marvelous technique she had demonstrated on the first day of charms; while Professor Sprout shakingly confessed several times how sure she had been that Hermione would have become the finest headmistress Hogwarts would ever know.

Med-witches and wizards kept up a steady stream during the night, coming in to replace her cold blankets with newly heated ones, and explaining how the warming charm lasted longer with fresh replacements. Various potions were administered intravenously all night, some to repair the internal damage of the curse and others to help her body regain its ability to manufacture blood. While Hermione's temperature, shakily at first and steadily then after, rose back towards normal, the hospital staff continually explained that the real danger all along had been brain damage, and the question was if they had successfully started treatment before her cognitive functions had been irreversibly damaged. They wouldn't have any answers, they repeated, until she woke up.

If she woke up.

The phrase was unspoken but it was thought, time and time again, but all who were present. Ginny had watched as, steadily, Harry's expression of despair had deepened, and Ron's expression died a little more for every hour that passed. She remembered how hard Harry had taken Sirius's death, and knew he felt responsible for Hermione's condition as well.

Ginny herself wasn't sure whether or not to blame him, and knew the thought itself said grief was making her illogical. Harry hadn't asked any of them to accompany him on his fool-hearty rescue of Sirius; but it was just so much easier to blame him for Hermione's current condition, though it had been the deatheater, and not Harry, who had uttered the curse.

Ron reminded his friend of this several times during the night, as did Neville and Luna, who appeared later as well.

From early evening to midmorning did the company commandeer the hallway outside of Hermione's room. Aguishly did they await any possible sign that their friend, their daughter, would awake. In all their minds was the memory of Hermione, the brightest girl any had ever known, and each was personally questioning how, if she ever awoke, she would be able to live knowing what might be lost.

It was then to all's immediate relief when, at precisely 8:45 in the morning, Hermione's eyelids had fluttered open and to the suddenly silent room had she whispered, "Is it herbology or charms first this morning?"

Ginny could easily remember the flutter in the room; how both mothers had immediately started crying tears of flowing joy and relief, how Harry had jumped up from his seat and was grinning from ear-to-ear and how the twins gave loud shouts surely everyone in the hospital could hear: "She's awake!"

Almost instantly, med witches and wizards had appeared, each carrying a different coloured potion, all with relieved smiles that betrayed how they too, had been caught up in the desperate survival of the brightest witch in many a year.

Ginny had watched it all, tears running down her cheeks, and therefore was the only one to see how it was Ron who was the first to react, a smile taking over his face as he had leaned down towards Hermione's questioning face and lovingly teased, "Its potions, silly, and you forgot to do the assignment."

He'd laughed at the picture of horror that appeared on her still-pale face, before bending back down to the bed and kissing her tenderly upon the lips.

Hermione's shocked expression had melted into a loving tableau of pleasure, and then the exhaustion of her body had overtaken her, and she slipped into a normal sleep, a smile still hovering over her now lightly pink lips.

That had been two weeks ago now, and though she still leaned a little too heavily on Ron's offered arm, Hermione was well on her way to recovery. Ginny knew – from a little unobtrusive eavesdropping in the kitchen – that one of the reason's Harry was being allowed to come so early this year was the hope that his presence could further speed her recovery. Dumbledore had sounded anxious for Hermione to be well as soon as possible, and mum had promised to look after the girl as her own.

The Granger's had come to visit several times, each time walking away from the Burrow a little more impressed with the wizarding world. Dumbledore himself had explained to them how much safer Hermione would be within the wards of the Burrow, and how Mrs. Weasley would ensure that Hermione drank the proper number and distribution of potions every day.

There had actually been a debate over whether or not to tell Hermione that Harry was coming, but it had been decided that the surprise – pleasant as it may be – might harm rather than help her recovery.

Ron had been the one to tell her, and Ginny had seen the flashing look of sadness that had crossed her brother's face as Hermione's had lit up in joy. Was it possible that her brother was jealous of Harry? Ginny knew the two had never spoken of their shared kiss, indeed, she wasn't even sure if Hermione had remembered it. Personally, Ginny didn't think that Harry was at all interested in Hermione that way – though that could have been personal bias talking – and she doubted Hermione felt that way about anyone except Ron, but then more surprising things had happened.

But when Harry had arrived, both Ron and Hermione had come running as quickly as they were able, and both wore identical looks of relief that he had made it to the Burrow safely. If there was an Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere thing going on, Ginny couldn't see it.

While the three friends made a quick re-acquaintance, Ginny finished setting the table and quickly looked around for some place to hide. She was desperate to find enough time out of earshot of Harry to have a quick moment with Hiss, before he said anything stupid. Something along the lines of, Hey look, Ginny, its Harry Potter, now go over and explain to him why you haven't told him you're a Parselmouth for the past, oh you know, four years.

Finally she saw an opening; mum had come into the kitchen from the backyard and had quickly rushed over to give Harry a welcoming hug. Behind her the swinging door to the garden was left open, and watching the reunion from the corner of her eye, Ginny made a dash towards it.

She had almost made it too, except at that moment Tonks made a surprise attempt to include her in the festivities, and just before Ginny had escaped the older girl came over and put a restraining arm about her thin shoulders.

"Now come on, come on, I know your excited to see Harry too," she bounced happily, hurrying Ginny over to the small crowd, announcing, "Look who I found trying to sneak away!"

Ginny grimaced and did her best not to blush. Mum gave her a smile, as did Hermione and Ron glanced in her general direction. Harry looked up from his place in the middle of the rough circle of friends and family to make eye contact with her for a second, his features hardening into barely concealed anger as he did so, before quickly turning back to his friends. At his reaction to her presence, something sad and painful stabbed her in the spine, and Ginny actually had to think for a moment before realizing it was a piece of her own shattered heart, jumping back up one more time to bite her in the ass.

Ginny stood there as long as she could. The twins arrived a moment later and immediately started trying to pass around free candies to the group, every member of which declined. They turned then to Harry, but he shook his head immediately and touched Ron on the back of his shoulder. Ginny watched, with prickling palms of anger, as Ron then turned and looked for Hermione. Catching her eye, Ron nodded to the stairs. Hermione gave a slight nod of acceptance, and soon thereafter excused herself from Ginny's mum. The three made their careful way up the stairs, leaving Ginny to help mum with supper.

Mum didn't seem to mind that she only had one pair of hands now instead of six, since the twins had disappeared as well. Quickly and efficiently, she distributed the necessary chores, content to let Ginny complete the job alone.

She did so, angrily smashing the forks and knives atop the table as hard as she could. Ginny knew it was childish of her, but she didn't care. As soon as she was finished, Ginny pushed her way out of the kitchen, stomping down the familiar trail to her paddock.

After everything they'd been through last year, they were back to this. The Golden Trio versus the rest of the world, with no room for anyone else to join them.

Hadn't she helped out at the Department of Mysteries? In Dumbledore's Army? Hadn't she shown herself worthy of their trust? Apparently not.

Hiss tightened himself on her calf, and Ginny knew he could smell her anger. She didn't worry about frightening him, Hiss had seen her in worse rages then this before, but she hoped that now at least he'd understand her reluctance to confide in any of those three. They couldn't trust her? Well she couldn't trust them!

Ginny sighed, slumping down onto the late-afternoon grass. She couldn't lie to herself; she was too self-honest for that. She had completely and utterly expected to be ignored; it was just what those three did, how they saw the rest of the world. What was really bothering her was that now Voldemort was definitely back and it not only was it Harry who was ultimately going to have to fight him, but she had been protecting him from that destiny by keeping the prophecy a secret.

It didn't matter that Harry didn't know what she was doing; Ginny still felt somehow betrayed by his utter and complete dismissal of her presence. Not that she was about to run off and tell Dumbledore about the prophecy, she wasn't petty enough for that, but Harry would obviously never even believe her if she told him about it. Dumbledore was the only one he'd listen to, now that Sirius was gone, and it was better for him to explain it to Harry anyways.

Silently, in her mind, Ginny recited the words that Hiss had spoken to her so many years ago now. They were simple and to the point, but for some reason always blazed brightly in her mind:

two of mind but one of heart

from different families shall they start

but know it now that none shall rule

until the day on which they duel

when thunder cracks and fog horns sound

when death is burning on the ground

when tides of freedom ring out true

know that the end is brought to you

on flaming fire and surfing waves

with breathless air and endless caves

will serpents rise and lions fight

now dawn against the darkest night

pray not for one or each but all

for in this battle one shall fall

and neither can the world support

whoever wins this last rapport

Ginny finished the last line and sighed. There was no doubt in her mind that the words referred to Harry in a last, desperate fight against Voldemort. The lightening, the serpents … she didn't know if Harry would actually be able to stop Tom, but she knew without a doubt that he would try. However much she might have against him, Harry did have heart – and a lot of heart at that. Ginny herself could help send him into battle hating him for not loving her as she had loved him, or she could support him, and Ron, and Hermione, even though they wouldn't support her, simply because they were her friends, and she needed them.

And that, in the end, would be what she would fight for.

Standing up, Ginny brushed the grass from her jeans and gave Hiss a soothing pat. She wasn't surprised that her friend had chosen to wait until she had calmed down to speak with her, but as it was he was going to have to wait some more. Dinner would be ready soon, and Ginny didn't fancy her mum having to call her in like a child caught sulking. Speaking softly to her friend, Ginny promised Hiss that she would speak to him later. Shaking a leaf from her bright red hair, Ginny made her way back to the Burrow. It would – it appeared – be business as usual, and she had better start getting used to it.

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For the re-reader's among you: not much changed in this chapter. A few phrases here and there. On the whole I was rather proud of it, but I'd much rather hear what you have to say … to review!!!!