Ginny Weasley:

The Lion-Snake Prophecies

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

I know, I know – its been a while!! Thank jcd1013 for this update ... she reminded me of my duties!! I've actually had this chapter sitting in a floppy for a while ... Bells with second this ... and just haven't gotten around to editing and posting it! One word to explain myself: MCAT. shudders. Awful. Well, mostly. Work MCAT awful. So, I might not do to much updating this summer. There is no fear of me abandoning this story come September, since I know I use writing as a relaxation tool, but for now I just don't have time. (Get up at 6.30am – home at 10.30pm ... you get the picture). So everyone who wants to follow this story to its (he he he ...) very cool continuation can bookmark or "favoritize" me and just read as I post .. which will not be at a fast rate now, I'm afraid. Hope you all enjoy this chapter though .. much thanks to all who reviewed, (I can't mention things now as I have precisely 16 minute to get back to class .. but know that I read and thought egearly about all your remarks and suggestions!) and keep reading!!

Chapter Ten

Conversation continued in Percy's old room, but Ginny found herself paying less and less attention as Hermione rambled on. As the boy's fetched lunch, the older girl had quickly shifted the topic of discussion to more mundane matters, and was currently speculating rather breathlessly on the different OWLS Ginny needed to achieve.

"Of course, you could easily take all of them, but I know Magical Runes wasn't your favourite class. I find it fascinating, however. And you're particularly good in Charms, as I remember. That should be easy for you, but don't hesitate to come and get some help early on if there's anything you're unsure of."

Ginny nodded absently. She had long ago learned the cadence of Hermione's voice, and knew which pauses required gentle hmmms? or outright nods of agreement. Her mind, however, was focused once again on the childhood dreams she had all but forgotten. They weren't particularly exciting or interesting dreams. Really rather mundane. The only reason she remembered them was because they repeated with odd regularity. There was some pattern to them … Ginny strained to remember, but in many ways felt as if she were trying to reclaim some forgotten life. Her dreams for the past four years had been so avidly terrifying, so unquestionably real, that it was difficult to recall anything prior to them.

For a moment, Hermione's voice was drowned out completely by the memories of the past four years. Ginny shuddered with remembered horror at the raw feeling in her throat, the pain that came with screaming yourself hoarse. Her mum had been forced to put sound-dampening charms around her room; else Ginny woke the entire Burrow with her cries. A spelled extension had linked her room to her parents, so they alone would know when she lay terrified in her bed.

Hiss had helped her the most through those times, however. It was in those first few weeks when she walked around in fog – too scared to sleep, too ashamed to face anyone – that Hiss had come and introduced himself to her. She had thought him a hallucination, and had been so tired of fighting with the snakes that had come to hiss at her night after night that she had given up right there on the lawn. Hiss had just talked to her though, comfortingly-like. And though Ginny couldn't even remember the words he had spoken to her, she knew the effect they had. The dreams paled in their intensity, and that night – for the first time in weeks – Ginny had slept an entire night through. The next morning she had gone looking for Hiss in the garden, and had found him in the paddock. It had been their secret meeting place ever since.

"Of course, I'd always thought divination a worthless subject, but now that we know prophecies are real, it really changes matters doesn't it? I think you should at least work hard on your divination OWL, and with Firenze teaching the subject it might be more plausible then that fraud Trelawney. Of course it was terrible what Umbridge did to her, but I still don't think Dumbledore should let her teach at the school. Not when Firenze needs to stay at Hogwarts anyways, since he can hardly go back to the Forest."

Something in that rather breathless statement jolted Ginny, and she quickly tore herself from her memories.

"Hermione …" she began hesitantly, succeeding in catching the older girl's attention, such that Hermione stopped in her rambling and waited for her to continue. Grimacing at breaching another unpleasant subject, Ginny nonetheless felt she had to ask.

"Do you think … well, I mean the prophecy about Harry was destroyed, wasn't it?"

Hermione gave a nod, "Neville said it smashed on the Department floor." She gave a sigh, "It's too bad. Could have been useful to know what it contained."

"You don't think," Ginny asked hesitantly, "that Dumbledore knows what it said, do you?"

Hermione gave her an odd look, and seemed to think for a moment. At last she shrugged, "I'm not sure. He can't know everything, and yet I find it hard to believe that if there has been a prophecy about V-Voldemort," Hermione looked annoyed with herself, "sitting on a shelf in the Department of Mysteries for sixteen years, that Dumbledore wouldn't have known about it."

"And if he knew about it," Ginny continued when she finished, "then he must have tried to find out what it said."

Hermione shook her head, "But you saw what happened to Broderick, the man who was forced to try and lift the prophecy. He was completely ---"

"But he was getting better, wasn't he?" Ginny interrupted, worry and hope spilling simultaneous from her lips, "That's why he was killed. And I'll bet Dumbledore's a lot more powerful than Broderick, even if he was a member of the Order. He might have been hurt if he tried to lift it, but he also would have known the prophecy."

But Hermione didn't look convinced, "We have no idea how one accesses the prophecy. Neville said that when it was smashed, a faint figure could be seen. Maybe it can only be heard once. The point is, the prophecy ---"

There was an odd clunk at the doorway. Ginny turned around to see Harry and Ron framed by the light of the hallway, Harry staring at Hermione with a look of angry pain etched into his face.

"What?" He demanded, glancing back between Ginny and Hermione, "What about the prophecy?"

Ginny frowned, but Hermione answered with the tired voice of one who is sick of being yelled at for no reason. "We were just wondering if Dumbledore might have known if the prophecy about you and V-," she took a deep breath, "Voldemort was lying in the Department of Mysteries. And if he did," she shrugged, "Ginny figured he might have found a way to listen to it. But I don't think it would be possible."

Harry's look of anger was replaced by a depthless misery. With Ron glancing confusedly at his back, he walked into the room and set down a tray filled with salad and sandwiches. "Only the people the prophecy is about can move it."

"Still," Ron chimed in as he strode in and laid his own tray of food next to Harry's, "Dumbledore would want to help you as much as he could. He might have found a way to listen to the prophecy without lifting it."

Harry gave a non-committal shrug, and the subject was universally dropped. Ginny couldn't help but stare a bit at Harry throughout the short meal. He doesn't want to know about the prophecy, Ginny thought to herself as they ate, he doesn't want to think that something else connects him and Tom together.

Well, it couldn't be helped. Even if Dumbledore had managed to hear the prophecy himself, she should still tell him what Hiss had told her. The wording might be different, after all, and every extra piece of information she could give him could only help Harry's chances.

As she sat with the Trio eating lunch, Ginny felt the weight of her gained knowledge catching up with her. There were still so many things she did not understand. For example, the great wrought-iron gate surrounding her psyche had been decorated with snakes … but why? What did that mean? Was her mind perhaps particularly defensive towards people who spoke Parseltongue? That had been the language Tom had used most frequently inside her head. Was that why Harry had such a hard time breaking in? Or was there some other explanation for what had happened when he touched that gruesome gate?

Ginny didn't know; she felt after talking to Hermione that there was a lot she didn't understand. And she needed to understand. Especially about her and Harry, she thought, because that was simply too weird.

But she couldn't figure anything out up here. If she stayed in Percy's old room much longer, Ron was going to challenge her to a game of chess. And she didn't feel like a gripping game of logic just about now. No, Ginny wanted to think, wanted someplace to go where she would not be disturbed. Not by the twins who were sure to be lurking around somewhere, or by the multitude of Aurors present on the premises. In short, she wanted to go the paddock, to sit beneath her favourite tree and do her best to figure things out.
But to do this, she needed Hiss. She needed him like a wand needs the wizard. She needed his common-sense, his serene wisdom and his assurance that as long as she held to her nature, everything was going to be fine. She needed her best friend – but she wasn't sure where to find him.
First thing first: she'd check her bedroom. Once her mind was made up, Ginny was anxious to start searching. She made a quick excuse to the Golden Trio, not that any of them seemed to mind her leaving the stuffy room, and made her way down the stairs as quietly and cautiously as she could. Her idea of escaping off to the paddock relied on the fact that no one would know where she was going. Doing her best not to alert any members of her family, Ginny tip-toed over to her room and slipped in through the door, closing it quickly behind her.
Harry did say that he was going to keep an eye on her, but he was still finishing his lunch so Ginny figured she would have a couple of minutes at least.
"Hiss?" She whispered into the room, "Hiss, are you in here?" But there was no answer.
Just to be sure Ginny checked the bed, her dresser, the space beneath her window and even the nearly-empty bacon box. Yet there was no sign of Hiss.
He must be in the garden then, Ginny decided, but that in itself would pose a problem. Usually to go outside Ginny would need to pass through the kitchen; yet mum, possibly dad, and maybe even the twins, were in the kitchen. Entering that particular area would produce the multitude questions she was hoping to avoid. Not to mention she would most likely run straight into Harry.
Moving to her window, Ginny tried to gauge the drop to the ground. There was a little siding near the north edge that she could possibly use to help her escape. It would still be a rather long fall, but she had done it once before. Of course, Ginny had been ten and unknown to her at the time, Bill had been waiting at the bottom with a triple-bounce charm. He had overheard George double-dog-daring her to jump out the window and had run outside just in time.
But now there was no older brother to catch her, and no one to push her on. Ginny could choose to remain in her room all day, hide from each member of her family and allow others to solve her problems for her. But that was not the way Ginny Weasley had learned to operate. In the Weasley household, one took responsibility for one's actions, though the consequences were held off as long as possible most of the time – usually until mum found out.
If Ginny could have her way, her mother would never find out the true horrors her youngest had suffered under Voldemort. She would never discover that Ginny was a Parselmouth, would never have to suffer the shame such a realization would bring. If Ginny had listened to her parents in the first place, she would never have opened her heart to that thrice-cursed diary and none of this would have ever happened. So taking a deep breath, Ginny hoisted herself out of her window and reach downwards with her left foot until she was precariously balanced on the north siding. Bending her knees, Ginny dropped carefully to the ground.
The landing was a little harsh; Ginny rolled a second longer than she should have and ended up striking the east side of the Burrow with her shoulder, but all in all it was a successful escape. She hadn't even made that much noise when she hit. Now it was only a matter of locating her friend and escaping off into the bushes without anyone being the wiser. Not that Ginny had ever made her trips to the paddock a secret, but Hiss would be able to tell if anyone else was within hearing distance. She would never actually leave the premises, so Harry could not claim she was trying to escape. Besides, she was sure the older boy would understand the need to get away from prying friends. Hermione, though well-intentioned, could be annoying at even the best of times.
Circling around the south-side of the building, Ginny searched all the usual hiding places for Hiss. She checked under the bushes in the front yard and the high grass near the west side, but there was no sign of him. Undaunted Ginny waited until Tonks, who seemed to be on duty in the back yard, circled around to the front of the house before checking the garden, the gnome holes and their sand-castle silt. Still no sign of Hiss.
There was of course the paddock itself to check. Hiss might be waiting for her there, or he might even have circled back to her room ... Ginny should have left some kind of a message there for him to meet her later in their favourite spot. Well it was too late now and she'd have to check herself. After once again confirming that Tonks – who was now joined by Mundungus – was still in the front yard, Ginny sprinted to the paddock.
The oak tree with its shady branches greeted her, as did the Quidditch hoops they had all neglected to take down the night before. But there was no evidence of Hiss. Even the mice seemed to know he was gone; Ginny caught one exploring in the grasses near the oak tree, a place where few ever dared to forage.
Ginny felt her heart flutter in sudden fear: what if something had happened to him? She had left him with Harry on the floor of her room when she left to go check on Hermione earlier that morning ... had Harry perhaps said or done something to harm him? But no, he had vouched for Hiss later when Ron was questioning them. What had that been all about? How could Harry have known that Hiss was no threat, especially after he tried to curse him earlier? Hiss must have said something to him; they must have talked quite personally while Harry sat green in the face after accidentally cursing her instead of Hiss.
Anger took the place of fear. If Harry had done or said anything to scare Hiss away from her ... but wait. There was something white and fluttering in the grass near the oak roots that caught Ginny's attention. Bending down to its level, Ginny carefully cleared the grass away.
It was a small scrap of parchment, held down by a rock so it wouldn't be blown away. Ginny freed the parchment gently. Scrawled in a stick of black charred bacon was a single Parseltongue symbol. Translated it read "dusk".
Dusk? Ginny wondered. She looked at the message again; the flare at the end of the word seemed to represent a time scale. So 'dusk' might mean that Hiss had to leave, but would return when the sun set.
Ginny stood and considered. There was no direct evidence that Hiss had indeed written the message, but she was sure that Harry couldn't write in Parseltongue because it had taken her almost a year to learn to translate the spoken words into a scrawling symbols. And even then there were many distinct patterns that were supposed to denote inflection. The tiny up-turn at the beginning of the word might represent danger, or it could be that bacon-fat was simply a hard substance to write with. Hiss surely couldn't have written something in the sand near the Burrow, and he might have been in a hurry.
Ginny forced herself to ignore the delicate flutterings of imagined danger. She would wait until dusk; blimey – what else could she do? She could not leave the grounds and was sure now that Hiss was not around the Burrow. She had no choice but to sit and wait anyways, so she might as well take what small comfort she could.
She started to wonder what had made Hiss leave her, but quickly shut down that train of thought. There was no point in imaginative stories that would only worry her further. Ginny thought logically for a moment; the message had been found in the paddock so it was not unreasonable to assume that Hiss would meet her here. There were many things she could do until then – she hadn't forgotten her father's suggestion about attacking the other's to train them – and with the day's growing longer, dinner might be over before the sun fully set. Perhaps she could convince mum to cook it a little faster, to make sure that Hiss would not wait too long.
Harry was sure to accompany her, Ginny realized with a despairing flash of insight. She doubted being able to hide from him again, and even if she did, he would probably get suspicious. Well if it couldn't be helped then it couldn't, and maybe she would learn what had transpired between the two of them that morning in her bedroom. Ginny was in no mood to ask the boy directly quite yet, though felt that eventually her curiosity would get the better of her.
Ginny sighed; there wasn't much else she could do here. Better to get back to the Burrow proper before someone began to miss her. Though relations had been slightly improved with the Golden Trio, Ginny didn't feel like any more extended conversations. Perhaps she could take a walk with Mundungus to the muggle town.
Turning her back on the paddock Ginny walked back to the Burrow blissfully unaware of the two sets of brown eyes that watched her every move.

Hey All

Finally a chapter where I changed a significant portion of the writing! In the earlier installment, the beginning of this chapter was written from Hermione's perspectives. I had a few ideas I wanted to articulate, and thought it would be better to hear them from Hermione's POV. It just didn't flow right though, and several reviewers noted that too. So I decided to try and write it from Ginny's POV again. It worked much better this time, I think, and though I changed the course of the discussion quite a bit in this version, I really like the result. I think the conversation of the prophecy was something that needed to be said, and I enjoyed writing Harry walking in on that particular topic.

I'm thinking of opening an account on Sink Into Your Eyes when I finally get to writing new chapters for this story. Do any of you readers visit that site too? If you enjoy HG fan fiction, it's a great site. I'd definitely suggest checking it out.

Any other sites you guys know of that I could post this baby on? Let me know in a review if there's a particular site you fancy, and I'll check it out.

So please review review review!! I don't care how many I have, I always need new reviews to keep the inspiration flowing! And to kick my lazy, tired ass in gear. The more you review, the better your chances of a new chapter quickly!

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