Author's Note: Ok, so I can't really think of anything to say except many, many thanks to those who reviewed. I would have gotten this chapter in sooner but I've been ridiculously busy lately. Hope you enjoy.



chapter 17: Prediction - shuddering under the hand of fate



Ron shivered and sidled closer to the fireplace, feeling like he'd never be warm again. It had been hours since he'd gotten back from being out in the rain with Malfoy, but it was like the cold rain had soaked into his bones. He was even wearing one of those hideous, maroon sweaters his mum made for him every year but he was still cold and his hands felt liked they'd been carved out of blocks of ice.

Note to self: No more following Malfoy out into the rain. Though that was something else that had Ron worried. He wasn't sure how he'd known that Draco had gone walking along the lake. He hadn't even gone down to Snape's office to find it empty. A part of his mind had just said, "Malfoy's out in the rain. Who knows when he'll come back. Better go out to him, then," and so he'd just gone, not even thinking about it. It was like he had some sort of weird, Draco Malfoy homing spell on his brain or something.

Also, after the fiasco of last Wednesday he didn't think he could not go to Draco when he was supposed to. Whenever he thought about skipping out on his 'detentions' with Malfoy he got the worst feeling like he was neglecting something, like forgetting to do something really important. Then he would always remember waking up in hospital and realizing that he could have died for being forgetful. Not a good feeling.

Thinking about these things made Ron nervous and, as was becoming a habit lately, he took out the watch that Dumbledor had given him, checking to make sure that he wasn't crazy and it really hadn't been that long since he'd gotten it. Yep, about four days and counting. If it were a normal watch it would have read about a little before the two. "Time" was moving so slowly, though it couldn't move slow enough for Ron's taste.

"Hey, you get your Divinations homework done yet?" Harry tapped Ron on the shoulder and Ron started, turning and quickly tucking the watch back into his robes.

"No, I've been feeling particularly uncreative tonight and it's weird trying to predict stuff for other people." Sitting a few feet away at one of the study tables, Hermione looked up at this exchange and rolled her eyes. Trelawney had been trying to get them to 'extend their reach' by predicting the fortunes of their fellow class mates and Hermione had told them that if either one of them predicted that she'd die by being gored by a unicorn one more time then she would never help them on another potions assignment again. It had been an effective threat.

Harry smiled at Ron's distressed look and sat down next to him on the couch. "How about we give predictions for each other. That way we can't get annoyed when I predict that you will be castrated and hung from the astronomy tower and you predict that I will be flayed alive after the Bloody Baron finds a way to come back from the dead and takes over the school."

Ron laughed then did his best to put on a straight face, "Thanks, Harry," he said as dryly as possible, "castration is just what I need right now."

"Oh, yes," said Harry, looking innocent, "It's excellent for your self-esteem."

Ron smirked then sighed. "Ok, so what's the method of torture this time?" Harry held up a pack of cards and Ron put his head in his hands. Trelawney's cards could be so gruesome sometimes.

An hour later Harry had been flayed by dementors, poisoned, and mangled beyond all recognition by a horde of rabid flobber worms. Ron had been executed for assualt and burglary, castrated and buried alive, and strangled to death while being held underwater by a large scottish kraken. They both had just one more to go. Ron shuffled the cards, then drew three from the top. This should be interesting to work with. He had drawn the Fool, the Joker and the card of Five Swords.

"Hmm," Ron rubbed his chin in mock contemplation. "Harry, it appears that you will die by the hand, so to speak, of Peeves. You will be foolishly wandering the dungeons at night and Peeves will possess one, or several (I'm not sure), suits of armor and hack you to pieces with their swords." Ron grinned, holding up the cards for Harry to see and Harry laughed.

"Ok, wise guy, your turn now." Harry grabbed the cards and started shuffling madly, causing three cards to fall out face down. He shrugged and bent down to pick them up, snorting when he turned them over to look at them.

Ron raised an eyebrow in question. "That bad, is it?" he asked.

"Oh, you're definitely done for this time." Harry squinted at the cards intently. "I can't be sure of the particulars but it appears as though some unknown person will betray you into committing murder (also of some unknown person). You will be so torn up about it that you will slice your wrists and commit suicide." Harry made a face at one of the cards. "Is it really necessary to show so much blood?" he asked plaintively before throwing the cards down on the couch cushion.

Ron stiffened. Harry was right. The cards were far too bloody for comfort: Betrayal, Murder, and Suicide. The Betrayal card was mostly very dark and you couldn't see much but the Murder card showed someone hacking a person to death with a knife, blood flying everywhere and the Suicide card showed a man lying still on the ground, very pale, with blood pooling around him from gashes along his wrists. Ron shuddered and looked away.

Normally he would just find it funny that the cards seemed to be possessed by Trelawney's "sense of drama" but now the sight of so much blood made him uncomfortable and he couldn't help thinking that he could put his own interpretation on the cards. He had felt betrayed when he found out that he had to sacrifice himself for Malfoy. Malfoy had almost killed him and still might, and if he didn't comply with things the demon certainly would murder many people. And sometimes it felt as though the sacrifices he made for Draco was like slowly committing suicide.

Harry noticed that Ron had grown quiet and put a hand on his shoulder. "What's the matter, Ron? Are you ok? You know it's just nonsense."

"Yeah, I know." Ron nodded and did his best to smile. "It's just...really horrible to think about, that's all." Harry nodded and went to put the cards away.

Ron just stayed on the couch, staring into the fire and thinking about the day. All in all it had been quite strange, if that was a word you could use to describe events in his life anymore. It had been weird knowing where Malfoy was, and then him acting so strange. Draco had almost seemed calmer in the bite too, as though the rain was soothing to him.

And there again, something else Ron didn't like thinking about. Why did he feel like he knew what Draco was feeling when Draco bit him? It was as though the physical link went deeper than that, as though, in sacrifice, they were one person. As though they acted as one, rather than as giver and receiver, taker and taken. Ron looked away from the fire and rubbed at his eyes, trying to take his mind away from this line of thought. "I must be going insane," he muttered to himself, then laughed. What else was new?

Outside the wind howled and rain lashed at the window. The storm was still going full force and gave no hint of dying down any time soon. Bidding good night to Hermione, Ron hauled himself up off the couch and up the stairs to bed. It was a dark night, made even darker by the day and Ron only hoped the shadow wouldn't follow him into his dreams, that he wouldn't dream in red.