Ginny Weasley:

The Lion-Snake Prophecies

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

Hey All!

Well so the story continues on … its exam time here in second year university, and writing is my escape from studying! (Which is odd, because I'm a really good student most of the time but have been having a hard time keeping away from my computer this year … I'm sure my readers are pleased, though!)

Witch of Darkness - hey, a new reader!! You don't get much more success with a story than that! Btw, v. cool name – are you an old fan fiction'er or was it just not yet taken? Thanks for the plot compliments, but do you really think it doesn't stray that far from the canon? I was kinda worried actually about how much it was … but of course we don't see Ginny during most of the series, so I can kind of tuck her in!

Jcd1013 – where are you?? I need reviews, lots of reviews!!! (I'm just hoping I haven't lost you as a reader, since I really enjoy your comments! When you mentioned Hiss I realize I had forgotten about him all last chapter and had to go back and write him in! Poor Hiss … I'm sssssorry!)

Tara – has been lost too ...

Bells – of course, my favourite (sorry all you other guys!) reviewer … if anyone else had read the Dark Jewels Trilogyand wants to read a really cool story then just hit search and type in Bells because she's got a really good one!!! Not the usual characters, instead she explores the world of Terreille with a fascinating new cast!

CiA1, Comet Moon, Angie, and Lady of the Library – have I lost you all too?

"I feel like I'm the last one on the battle field, looking around and wondering, where did everybody go?"

Chapter Eight

This time when they hit the ground, Ginny felt her teeth rattle. Carefully, bending first her knees and then her head, Ginny rose from her crouched position, not realizing until she felt a jerk from the side that she was still holding on to Harry's hand. Opening her eyes, Ginny looked down to find the Boy Who Lived clutching onto her wrist with a shocked expression, still crouched with his knees bent on the ground, staring at the fingers that were visible beneath his hand.

Ginny felt a wave of anger roll over her, "You just have to run into everything, don't you! The gate was locked, I was trying to get around it and you just had to run up and start beating against the walls! Don't you ever take the time to think?!"

Harry paused in his crouched position, before slowly raising his head and letting go of her arm. Rising to his full height, which towered over her own, Harry glared back at her with ghost-filled eyes, "I have a responsibility to make sure that you aren't a threat and I –"

"No you don't!" Ginny shouted, interrupting his tirade. Harry glowered, but she refused to back down, "In fact – you weren't told to go anywhere near me! You were simply warned – warned – not given any Auror-imposed duty! If Dumbledore had wanted me checked out, he would have told Tonks, or Mundungus, or Moody! Certainly not some rugged sixth-year with too much confidence in –"

"Ron and Hermione are my friends and I have a responsibility –"

"And they're my family and if I was at all unsure in my own trustworthiness –"

"I can't trust your supposed trustworthiness! Dumbledore –"

"- told me that I was no longer any th–"

"- and he told me that you wer– "

"QUIET DOWN boy!"

Ginny and Harry, now standing nose-to-nose, yelling at full volume, never saw the bear-like bulk of the man who had walked into wherever they now stood, but his shout – a bitter, fed-up sounding shout – shocked them into still silence. As one, they turned to look at the interruption.

To discover that he wasn't shouting at them at all. In fact, it appeared as if he couldn't even see them, because standing in this room – a plush living room with sparkling clean carpets and a distinctly muggle look – was another boy, young, perhaps six or seven, and he was staring at the bear-man with barely concealed fright.

Ginny didn't even notice Harry staring in shock next to her; she was too busy studying the man, the room and the scenario with a building sense of apprehension … oh Merlin ...

"This is impossible."

The words were spoken in tandem, and Ginny and Harry whirled to face one another, even as the boy in front of them began to explain in a shaky voice exactly why he was holding his Uncle Vernon's dirty briefcase and exactly how it had come to be there …

But Harry and Ginny ignored them, and instead stared at each other, each shocked beyond words.

Finally Ginny took a deep breath, "Okay … um, you go first. Why, why is this impossible?"

Harry looked back at the scene; it wasn't going well for the boy. The boy he knew so well …

"That's … that's me." He told Ginny, registering the new shock in her eyes but misunderstanding its importance. "Uncle Vernon, well, he hated anything do to with magic and, and I had the misfortune to wish that he never came back from work one day. Instead of Uncle Vernon never coming back, his briefcase never did – though he swore again and again that he could not have forgotten it. I found it later that day, in a garbage dump when I was cleaning lunch, and as I brought it back to the house he found me …"

Ginny was still staring at him, incredulous, and Harry angrily looked back, "Look, you know I didn't have a pleasant childhood, okay? Now you've just seen a piece of it – go on, laugh!" He shook his head, "What I can't understand is why we're in my memories when we're supposed to be in yours …"

But Ginny wasn't even listening. A frightened, faraway look had come into her eyes, and as Harry stared at her, looking unsure whether to be concerned or upset, she let out a bark of a laugh.

"Oh, Merlin, why? Why did it have to be me? Did I wish too hard? No wonder you cursed me for that …" Her tone was half tears and half laughter, and now Harry wasn't sure at all what to do. What was it with women and crying …

But Ginny didn't cry. Instead she blinked back the thoughts and turned to Harry with a smile sardonic smile on her lips, wondering how she was going to explain. "But you see," she told him carefully, "these aren't just your memories, they're also mine."

Harry stared at her, incredulous, and then felt suddenly dizzy. Beyond them, Uncle Vernon had left the scene and poor young Harry was fetching a rag from the kitchen, intend only upon cleaning the now dirty floor and the fact that he was receiving no dinner tonight …

"I had – dreams – when I was young." Ginny explained to him, watching the scene, "They were odd, discontinuous, but I managed later to put them together. I never remembered much, just a flash or two here and there, but I was always in a house – like this one – and someone was often yelling at me. I never knew their names, or who the were, only that I didn't like them and they didn't like me, but that I had to do what I was told or I would be punished. When I woke up after one of those dreams I'd be famished, usually because in them I was sent to bed with no supper, though I still had to cook it for the others …"

Her eyes had drifted from Harry's as she talked, but now they came stabbing back at his, "But I never told anyone about those dreams. Not even Ron, and we were close. They just didn't seem that important, and I never even suspected that they were real! Once my father brought home a muggle invention, and though I'd never handled a vacuum before in my life, I knew how to handle one. I remembered my dreams then, and when he asked me how I knew, I said I had seen it once in a muggle movie – I sometimes watched them at Luna's place. But I never …" she glanced back at the young Harry, now scrubbing at the carpet, " … never even had an inkling that I was you …"

Harry stood still, shocked, and didn't know what to say. Ginny watched as he cast his eyes about. He looked as if he wanted to sit down, to think, but wasn't sure if he would pass right through the furniture. She knew he was insubstantial now because they were in his memories, though they were also hers and nothing made sense but then again, when did it ever really, in her life …

Finally he spoke. His voice started slightly shaky, but then it held.

"Dumbledore told me once, back in third year, that when you save the life of a wizard, it creates a bond between you. I was thinking of Wormtail at the time –" and suddenly he paused, and looked back at Ginny, as if suddenly realizing that he had never told her about his third year, or Wormtail or anything … but Ginny only nodded.

"Sirius told me;" she explained, "back when we spent the summer together in Headquarters'."

Harry nodded in understanding, his mind drawn away for a moment, before quietly returning. Now when he spoke, his voice again carried the weight of his godfather's death, "Yeah, well he – Dumbledore – said that because I saved Wormtail, because S-Sirius and Moony were going to kill him, that it made some kind of bond. But, now that I think about it, I kind of saved your life too, in the Chamber in second year, and so, maybe …"

But Ginny shook her head, then stopped, thought a moment, and sighed. "I just – I don't know. I had these dreams back when I was younger, way before I ever went to Hogwarts, so long ago that I had half forgotten about them by the time I did. But then .. well Hermione's TimeTurner just shows that time to a wizard is an odd thing. You had a connection with me, and a connection with Tom; and I have a connection with you and a connection with Tom … maybe, somehow, it all got mixed around?"

Her expression was hopeful, and Harry couldn't to help but try and smile. "Maybe. Things definitely are getting complicated though, aren't they?"

Ginny hesitated, before returning his unexpected smile. She looked around then, and beside her he followed suit.

"Well, as educational as this escapade was, perhaps we should get back to the journey at hand …"

Harry nodded, and looked back down at himself. "We got here because I got stuck and you helped me. Since we're in my memories but your mind, maybe … well maybe if we just think hard enough, we can get ourselves out?"

Ginny shrugged, "Sounds like it'll work. Hey – wait, Harry," she asked, hit by sudden inspiration, "If we've got some kind of connection, that can't you just sense if I'm possessed?"

"Sense?" He frowned, "I don't know … how would I do that?"

Ginny considered, "Well – look at it this way. This little scenario," and she indicated Uncle Vernon's living room, "demonstrates that we do have some access into each other's mind. Now, obviously to get this memory, I had to go somehow digging around in yours. And I know that you've had some practice digging around in others …" she trailed off, for Harry suddenly had an angry look.

He seemed to master his emotions though, for when she stopped, his simply shook his head. "I know what you're going to say, and I'm saying no. I don't know how to use Legilimens at all. I thought I was doing it right all last year, I thought I was learning …" he clenched his fists, but shook himself free of those memories, "No. We're going back to the mansion, and we're looking the manual way …"

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean, we're already in my head anyways; we used a spell to get here, not Legilimens! But there's a way, a … well a friend of mine … taught me this thing, it's like a meditation, and I didn't think it would work since we're both human, but if we've already got a connection …"

Harry stared at her, "Both human? I don't understand; who's this friend of yours anyways …?"

Ginny shook her head, trying to make the movement casual. Damn her slipping tongue! "It's not important. But what is important is that this might just be possible. It would mean leaving here, going back to our bodies … I could tell you what to do, it sounds really simple, and …"

But Harry again shook his head, "But then we have to leave, and what – come back tomorrow night if this new plan doesn't work? It's too risky, we don't even know when the trigger could go off and –"

But Ginny was urgent now, "Listen Harry – we don't even know how long we've been down here. We don't know how to get into the mansion, or past your memories, or anything! We've tried to do what we could, but it wasn't good enough! What if its morning already? What if mum's calling us for breakfast; when we don't come down their going to be worried, and then come looking for us … what do you think happens if they try to break the connection? What are they going to do? Call Dumbledore? How much trouble are you going to be in when he finds out what you've done, gone against his orders? You know I'm not dangerous now. If I have some hidden compulsion, well … keep an eye on me. I'll hate it, but I won't argue. Dumbledore's supposed to come re-check the defenses in a few weeks. We can, we can tell him them – just the two of us, with neither of us obviously harmed – what happened, and he can maybe help. Lead us though, or tell me how to break into my own mind at least! We know more now than we did before, so let's get out of here before someone realizes that we're gone!"

Ginny paused, breathless. Her argument had had an effect on him, that much she could see. The thoughtful look was back in his eye, and she saw him once glance out the window, as if it could somehow tell him what time it was back in the 'real' world. He still didn't look convinced, but she thought the push about time and its consequences had won him over.

Finally, Harry sighed and looked back at the room in which they still stood, where the younger version of himself had finished cleaning the carpet as best he could, and was now in the kitchen fixing everyone else dinner. He glanced towards the kitchen once, and then looked back towards Ginny.

"We'll leave," he agreed, "but you are right – I'm not taking any chances. Even if you don't realize it, Voldemort could still have planted some kind of trigger in your mind. Our difficulty getting inside might just prove that. Your mum mentioned to me that you were in a coma before you woke up after … well after the Department of Mysteries. I don't know what Voldemort might have done to you, and I'm quicker to trust Dumbledore on this than you."

Ginny blinked at him, "You knew I was in a coma …?"

But Harry shook his head, "Look, you're mum just mentioned it on the side, when Moody said you looked 'better'. I was listening to see if Dumbledore had apparently told him anything, but couldn't tell from the question."

Ginny nodded, more to herself than to him, "I thought mum was being a little over-protective …"

"But if I see anything suspicious," Harry continued, the hard edge back in his voice, "anything at all, then I'm going straight to Moody, you understand? Wormtail managed to fool his best friends for years into thinking he was trustworthy, and I'm not about to let the same betrayal happen here."

Despite his dire words, Ginny couldn't help but grin, "So, Harry, you consider me one of your best friends?"

He scoffed, "Hardly," he said briskly, "Now come on, let's get out of here."

Ginny nodded, determined not to let on how much those words had hurt her. So, in the end, nothing had really changed …

Speaking out loud, Ginny said, "So, so what I think we do is this: picture your body, still just as it is right where you left it. Remember the feel of yourself, and try and kind of push your mind back into that picture …"

As she spoke, Ginny tried to do just that. She remembered her red hair, the feel of her own skin, her bedroom, Hiss sitting comfortably on her calf, the way her bed felt soft and sleepy in the moonlight …

… and she found herself traveling as if back up through her memories, and they were her memories again, and not Harry's …

… and there was her mother, standing over the stove, teaching her just what spices were needed to make the perfect soup …

… and there was Bill, a younger Bill, and he was playing Quidditch in the backyard with Charlie, as Ginny watched from an upstairs window …

… Ron was running with the gnomes around the yard … Hermione was smiling, still in pain over her injury … Harry was staring at her, an accusing look in his eye …

… and then there was her bedroom, a blinking pair of green eyes, the soft glow of dawn streaming in from the open window, and Hiss, still on her calf, rubbing himself awake …

Ginny blinked her own eyes, then reached up with a free hand and rubbed the sleep out from inside the cracks of them. She felt rested, refreshed, and startled looked over at Harry as he seemed to wake, and rubbed a little at his eyes.

"It wasn't, it wasn't a dream, was it?" She asked herself, and hadn't even realized she'd spoke out loud until Harry beside her shook his head.

"No, the house, the image of your father … I remember it too." And then he looked up, as if surprised. Staring at her, Harry looked down at himself, and said, "I feel … different." He looked up, suspicious, "did you do anything to me?"

Ginny scoffed, "Please, what could I do?" She shook her head, "But I don't know … I feel … different, too …"

And she did. There was a strange humming she could feel rather than hear. It was coming from all around her, but as she concentrated, it seemed to extend in a line from her to Harry, and it glowed, reverberated a little, in the air between them.

Ginny blinked, suddenly understanding. "It's the connection we share," she said, startled, "– because you saved my life. It's – well it's real."

Harry met her surprised glance. "It's probably just stronger because we've actually realized it. It kind of makes sense then, at least a little, why you would have a few of my memories." He paused, seemed to think again, before admitting, at least grudgingly, "You don't … feel … possessed."

Ginny grinned lopsidedly, "Thanks."

There was a knock at the door, "Hey – Ginny, breakfast!"

Harry grinned at the door, and then walked up to it asked, "Just you there Ron?"

There was a slight pause, "What?"

Harry looked back to her, and Ginny nodded. Turning the knob, Harry opened the door to see a very confused looking Ronald Weasley. Harry gestured him inside the room, and looking around, he slowly entered.

Harry made sure to close the door behind him before he said, "We did the spell last night, the one I told you about? Well we didn't get very far, but I don't think Ginny's actively possessed. I'm going to keep an eye on her though, especially around Hermione, so you don't have to worry."

But instead of looking relieved, Ron looked even more confuggled. Staring at Harry, he looked back at Ginny, still sitting on her bed, and then back at Harry. At his slightly worried look, Ginny also spoke.

"Look Ron, everything's okay. There's nothing really wrong with me, we're just being cautious."

But Ron stopped and stared at her, his eyes as wide as Quidditch hoops, his mouth twitching now slightly.

With a growl he seemed to make up his mind, and turning back to Harry he caught him in a suddenly tense grip and pulled him to the floor, vaulting over him to hold his head back in a choke-hold, just as Charlie had once taught him. Spitting angrily, Ron snarled, "What have you done to my sister?!"

Ginny sat still, shocked out of her mind. Scrambling from the bed, she tried to pull Ron off of Harry, hissing to him, "What the bloody hell is wrong with you? Get off him!"

But Ron simply shook her off, and as Ginny fell back onto the bed, she realized how grown-up and strong her brother had become. Still holding a choke-grip on Harry, Ron demanded, "Come on! Who's gotten into Harry's head now? If this is Voldemort then I'm about to kick your ass for everything you've put my family though! Let go of Harry, and give me back my sister!"

Ginny paused, shocked, not only had Ron finally said Tom's new name, but he had threatened him too! From the floor, his voice muffled and gasping, Harry said, "Ron, it's me. Ron – it's just me!"

And as he spoke, Ginny could hear something odd in the words. They sounded different … easier, somehow, on the ears …

But before she could place it, Ron slowly released his best friend, rolling smoothly off him and even helping him up. Looking at him as if thankful he had Harry back, Ron slapped him on the shoulders and asked quietly, "You okay mate? He do any damage?"

But Harry was staring at him incredulously, "What the bloody hell was that for? Voldemort wasn't here at all, it was me the whole time! Bloody hell Ron, I know you're protective about your sister and all, but Ginny and I didn't do anything, we just tried out the spell …"

But Ron cut him off, looking back at Ginny, who nodded wide-eyed, and then back to Harry before he spoke.

"Bugger that," he said, incredulous, "There is something passing strange going on here. If you are you –" he looked back to Ginny, " – and you are you." He glanced at Harry, "Then why were you speaking in parseltongue, and how come she could too?"

And as he turned back to Ginny, who's eyes were now larger than Quidditch Hoops, Harry turned with him and as both men stared at her, disbelieving, Hiss poked his head out from under her pant leg and hissed,

"Well, I guessss the cat'ssss out of the bag …"

Hey All,

AHAHAHAHA!! Love Ron's reaction. Pat's self on back.. Snicker.

Well, once again I was planning to change lots and … didn't. sigh. Again – did I need to? I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep the tad of Harry's POV that I had there, but it was already written and actually seemed to kinda flow … and I kinda liked it.

Tell me what you think. Please?

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