Egyptian Fire

I’d like to say thanks to Corisu Li [whose brit-picking as well] for beta reading for me.

Prologue: The Gift

First Day of School—6^th year

Dear Diary,

Something horrible is going to happen this year. I can feel it . . . and I know it’s going to happen to me. You see, I’m a Seer. Of course you know that, whom else could I really tell but you. I don’t even want to begin to think how my family would react to what I am. For the most part, until recently, I haven't been able to see my own future, nor the future of anyone that’s close to me. Lately, though, I’ve been getting glimpses of the immediate future, and on a Wednesday during the summer, I slipped up.

We had woken up early to go get some school supplies--our letters had come the previous day. While I was on my way to the restroom to brush my teeth, I bumped into Hermione. I know I flinched; I had never gotten images of her before. Hermione clutched onto me, staring at me as if, any minute, she were going to scream for help. I told her very quietly that I was fine. What I'd seen had scared me, not because it was god-awful, but because it wasn’t very important. I had seen two things—Hermione kissing Harry and almost getting caught by Ron, who insisted his feelings had vanished for her, and Draco Malfoy throwing red paint on Hermione’s beautiful knitted black cardigan that was tied around her waist. Her cardigan was something that I was secretly hoping she would give to me. No luck yet.

The first store we were going to go to was Flourish & Blotts. I saw Draco and Lucius Malfoy, along with a few of Draco’s friends, instantly. Lucius Malfoy, smirking down at his son, turned halfway around, pretending not to notice the pail in Draco’s hands. The pail was full of paint of a very ugly, reddish shade. It had been like slow motion--I saw Malfoy raise it and I hollered and quickly pushed Hermione out of the way. I later found out that it had been a dire mistake. Hermione was thankful, Harry and Ron were upset, the Malfoys were in shock . . . and me? Well, I was just covered in red paint.

It seems that no one else could see the can of paint. I later found out that because I had seen it in a vision, I could see past the Invisibility Spell that had been cast on it. The only thing that I could think about after I found this out was that the Malfoy men, no matter how much I hated them, were not stupid, and would soon put two and two together.

If anyone found out about me, I would have to leave Hogwarts and go to a professional Seer school where I’d be pumped and probed with information from the years that I’ve missed. And the questions, oh the questions, most of which would make my family irate, especially the fact that I’ve hidden my little secret for nearly four-and-a-half years. What scares me the most is that I can feel my power becoming stronger, so strong that I’m afraid of myself--of what I see. I’ve come to the conclusion that I wasn’t made to see all of these painful things in the world. I’ve wanted my family to shelter me from the pain for a long time, but I’m in the position of sheltering them, and it’s a burden--one, I feel, that is taking its toll. It’s building up to this year, I know it. I have a feeling that my little secret won’t be mine for much longer.

I don’t know if it’s going to be good or bad, but I’ll just assume it’s going to be bad. You see, I don’t have the greatest luck. Big surprise—I know gossip spreads quickly, especially bad, true gossip. Of course everyone knows about the Chamber, about what I did, and it’s blatantly obvious that I’m not the most graceful swan. I don’t even think I can be classified as a swan. Perhaps a pigeon . . .

I’m scared. Well, I’m always scared, but now I‘m even more so. When I get bad feelings, the outcome is always horrible, but this one was worse somehow. I don’t even think I can explain it. So I’m preparing myself for the worst, for my death. I don’t want to die, but it’s an option, one that would make the most difference in everything. I don’t know what will happen, but I’ll make it my year’s goal to find out why I’m suddenly seeing my family and friends’ future when I never could before.

~G.W

She had had two glimpses when she had hugged Fred and George, which was when she really figured out what was happening to her. She was seeing the futures of her family with almost every touch. Thankfully, they had just thought that she would miss them when she had nearly cut off their air supply, but in reality she was in another world of flashes and images inside of her mind, clutching at the closest thing near her to keep her balance. She usually always fell during a vision; it’s why a lot people thought she was clumsy by nature. So here she was, on the train, clutching her notebook to her chest, desperately trying to avoid skin-to-skin contact as she wound her way down the narrow aisle. She didn’t want to trigger anything.

The conceited gits!

She loved the twins, but they were incredibly stuck on themselves. What she’d seen had been good news, however, and like a good sister, she had consoled them, saying that they’d have a great year and that things had to look up. She had said, “What goes down must come up,” which was something that she’d heard Hermione saying to Harry. Ginny still didn’t understand the strained look on Hermione’s face when she told Fred and George not to remember that saying. It was then that she walked towards the train, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Ron to say their goodbyes by themselves.

Hmm, I wonder if I got it wrong? Ginny thought. It was a Muggle saying, right? It’s possible. If I think about it, it doesn’t really make sense. Muggles are very strange creatures.

Ginny turned the corner, still in thought, and grunted in a very unladylike manner as she crashed into a solid body. Arms reached to catch her, but with her arms clutching her notebook, the pale, yet soft looking skin of the hands that reached for her only managed to grab old, worn robes. She gasped as she heard her favourite of the two robes she owned rip. She fell ungracefully to the floor with a gasped ‘oof’.

The force of her bum hitting the floor had caused a jolt of pain to shoot through her body, making her arms go limp and causing her to drop her notebook. It landed next to a pair of very pricey name brand shoes--a brand, Ginny recognized, that only a few people had access to. These shoes had not been introduced to the general public yet and she knew it could have been only one person who’d actually wear top quality to school. The one person who didn’t care if his shoes got scuffed or if his robes got torn, because he was rich. Draco Malfoy.

She watched in horror as the legs in the pressed black slacks bent and their owner reached to pick up the book. “No!” Ginny cried, throwing her hand out and tightly gripping the smooth wrist.

“Excuse me,” the sharp, aristocratic voice snapped. “Unhand me, Weasley.”

“Y-you know me?” Ginny asked, somewhat surprise.

She knew it wasn’t considered proper manners to be talking to someone and not making eye contact, but he held something that was too important to get distracted from. She didn’t tear her eyes away from his fingertips, which were touching her notebook, the book that held her deep, deep secrets.

If this got into the wrong hands, she thought to herself, holding in a scared shiver, but it wouldn’t get into the wrong hands. Her vision a year ago had told her that that wouldn’t be the way people found out about her--and they would find out about her. She just didn’t know when or how.

“Well, yes,” Draco Malfoy said, his voice highly irritated. “You and your family are impossible to miss. For some it’s your garish red hair and spotty nose, but for me it’s the stench of poverty. Now, remove your hand.”

“You first,” Ginny spoke softly, still not making eye contact.

She was surprised to note that she’d been able to keep the tremor out of her voice.

“Pardon?”

“You’re touching my notebook.”

She almost snorted at that. The last notebook she’d had wouldn’t have held such importance, but of course she would have ripped that thing to pieces if she could. A lot of people had been surprised that she’d gotten another one almost within a year of what she’d been through. It had taken time; even after she purchased it she would stare at the black cover with gold engravings on it, thinking ‘what if’. She knew she couldn’t go through that again, but she couldn’t bare the burden of what she had to everyday without telling someone. Her family wouldn’t understand, Hermione would most likely want to do experiments, Dumbledore would want to her to go to a school for proper training, and Harry…well she wasn’t really sure what he would do. So she took the chance.

She was hesitant to look up, and it wasn’t just because his fingers were on the black cover of her diary. Ginny knew that there had, just recently, been something wrong with her eyes; they didn’t look normal, almost as if she were constantly in a daydream, and in that dream, a blue light bounced off her irises, giving them a silvery bluish tint. That type of colour over brown eyes, well she definitely understood the eeriness that snared people’s attention. She had looked in the mirror for hours every day, wondering why people would frown at her or give her strange looks, but all she saw was a nose that was too round with too many freckles, bow shaped lips, and brown, almost almond-shaped eyes with a slight defect. Ginny couldn’t be completely sure that it was her eyes people would stare at, but deep down, she knew.

She hadn’t seen anything different on any of the days leading up to the beginning of term. Hermione had told her, on the way to platform nine and three quarters, that her eyes had changed even more, that the silver and blue had become more noticeable somehow. Ginny hadn’t known what to say. She knew that there’d been something slightly wrong with her eyes for the past two years, but as of late she’d been seeing a lot more people noticing it more often. Once, when she’d been looking for more signs of change in her eyes, she could have sworn she’d looked in the mirror and saw black hair, golden skin, and warrior colours of black, gold, and indigo painting her face. The colours, she knew, were for loyalty, strength, and cunningness, which was why it seemed a little odd that she would see those colours. A fire-like design was visible at the corner of her right eye. Ginny had blinked and the image had disappeared. She had never seen it again.

She glanced up, silently cursing herself as Draco Malfoy’s eyes widened with shock, his lower jaw dropped a fraction of an inch, and his eyebrows crinkled. “Weasley, if you aren’t careful someone just might—”

Ginny averted her eyes, and slowly, with her notebook in her hand, stood up and shook her head. “No, they won’t.”

He frowned. She could feel him staring at the crown of her head; she could feel his confusion, his interest.

What the hell is happening to me?

Her breathing was becoming shallow and she soon found herself panting for breath. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and quickly pushed past him.

To Be Continued…

This won’t be a story where Ginny’s notebook is stolen and all secrets are revealed. If you read carefully around the area where Draco was touching it, I had written in that Ginny had had a vision about it. I’d like to once again say thanks to Corisu Li [whose also brit-picking as well] for beta reading for me.

Thanks to my beta reader Corisu Li!

Chapter One: Vision of Death

One Week into School…

Dear Diary,

Oh God, please tell me it’s not true. I can’t lose him--and why would a dragon come to Hogwarts, anyway? More importantly, how could its talons become nearly twenty inches long? I can’t lose Ron, I can’t. I’ll die if he dies. It isn’t fair. Diary, I’ve never been able to stop my visions from coming true. I mean, except for the one about Hermione, but that wasn’t as severe as what I saw happening to Ron. I’m going to find a way, I swear by Hecate that I’ll find a way. I was even given the date and time it would happen, so why shouldn’t I be able to stop it? October 20th, tomorrow, at the very first Quidditch game of the year. What a way to start.

Someone sent the dragon—perhaps someone trying to get at Harry?

I’m sorry; you don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you? Here I am, in an all out gabfest, and you’ve no idea what I’m going on about. I had a vision--I’m sure you’ve gotten that much. It happened yesterday during dinner. I was on my way to the Gryffindor table. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were walking side-by-side in front of me and they looked like two knights and a lady, their chins high, their shoulders squared with defiance. A group of people who just happened to save the world a lot were walking right in front of me, and I did what I always do. I tripped, accidentally falling over an accidentally placed foot, and smashed into Ron’s back. He lurched forward, but quickly got his balance and turned around, amazingly having enough time to lighten my fall to the ground. He gently lifted my chin up, while smiling and shaking his head. “You’ve got to be more careful, Gin,” he had chuckled and I had smiled and said ‘okay’.

Only I didn’t really ‘smile’ and say ‘okay’--instead, I was gritting my teeth, images flashing behind my closed eyelids. It had taken my breath away. My vision was so intense that it hurt and I was told that I screamed like a banshee, throwing myself back, knocking my head into the floor so hard that the skin split behind, and I could feel the blood oozing down my neck. Ron later told me that he had pulled me into his arms, screaming for Harry to help him. He had been horribly worried because he hadn’t been fast enough to save me the horrible migraine I have now--he thought it was worse than it was. I found out from Harry and Hermione that he’d cried in front of everyone and if you knew my brother, his temperament, then you’d know that it was a big deal for him to do that in front of the entire school.



Hermione told me that I had screamed for over two minutes and Ron had started demanding that Pomfrey tell him what was wrong with me. I still can’t believe he cried. Ron’s my favourite brother and sure he can be a little to over protective sometimes, but considering the tiny gap of age it was understandable. Ron wasn’t one for crying. In all the years she’d known him she’d only seen him cry a handful of times. She could count each one of them one hand, but for her Ron had cried. I can’t remember the last time he did that, I mean being the Boy Who Lived’s, best friend, you’d definitely have something to live up to. Especially when said friend was always in the spotlight.

When I became conscious again--yes, it was a bad vision that made me unconscious for about an hour; I’m not sure if it was from the pain or from what I saw--I stared at Ron, who had fallen asleep against my leg, holding my hand tightly, and started crying. In the vision, after Gryffindor had won the Quidditch game, which it looks like I won’t be able to play in because of possible head trauma (because of Ron, no less) the team was discussing what they’d do to celebrate. I walked up to them, and it was as if it happened in slow motion. The dragon—if memory serves me, it was a Hungarian Horntail—swooping down, its talons drawn, ready to strike. Before anyone knew it, before anyone could even blink, one of the claws with the twenty-inch talons rammed straight into Ron’s body. Two went through his lungs, one went straight through a rib, and the last one, the lucky one, pierced his heart. He had died almost instantly, but before his heart stopped beating, he fell to the ground, where I ran, screaming and crying, to cradle him in my arms.

He said something to me that broke my heart even more. Taking a wheezy breath, he had said, “Ginny, I love you and I promise--” he paused to cough up blood, “I’ll still take care of you. This world doesn’t deserve--” he struggled to breathe a little more here, “your goodness--your strength.” I cried, and he died. The vision had been so simple, happening as if it were the least important thing of the day, and so painful in just a few minutes. I will not let it happen. I have to stop it, why else would the PTB* give me the time, the place, and the day? I just don’t know how and time is running out.

It’s meant for me to stop it. It has to be, because if it isn’t and he dies then that’s it, I’m finished.



G.W.



Ginny dropped her quill against the fold of her open notebook, watching it roll through the three teardrops that had fallen on the writing. She sighed and took a deep, shuddering breath.


Why do I have to deal with this? I’m not strong enough. Ginny cried as silently as possible, trying not to wake up her roommates. For the millionth time, she prayed for Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s strength. If only she had an ounce of what they had, then maybe she could pull through, but she didn’t.


Ginny sobbed and lifted her tiny compact mirror up to her face. “I’m a weak little nobody.”


She had been sitting within the embrace of her pulled maroon curtains and bed for the past four hours. Her roommates, who were unfortunately only acquaintances, had tried to ask what was wrong, but how would she explain?


I can just see their faces if I’d actually told them. “Hey I saw my brother’s death, I felt his pain, I smelled and tasted the ounces of blood he was going to lose, and I felt him die. I let him die in my arms. So, how are you?” Yeah right, Ginny. Ginny snorted and shook her head.


If Ginny had explained to Luna and Colin about her visions, she’d probably lose her only two friends. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville didn’t really count because they more or less tolerated her presence. Luna would possibly be a little more understanding, but uneasy all the same.



Wouldn’t you be uneasy if one of your friends could tell you what could happen to you? Ginny thought.


Luna, Colin, and Ginny could be classified as the weird, the strange, and the quiet, well, who was she kidding, she was the joke of the entire group, but all the same she loved her friends.


She had to get some sleep if she was going to save her brother’s life, and since she couldn’t get to sleep, the only way would be to get a sleeping draught from Madam Pomfrey. Ginny wasn’t really in a descent mood; she was pretty sure that if anyone else knew that their favourite brother would die the next day, they wouldn’t care what they looked like, either. She shrugged nonchalantly. It’s not like anyone would notice that she was actually a girl, anyway. Like she’d said before, she was a little nobody--a gangly, almost flat-chested little nobody, and honestly, she kind of liked it that way.

She couldn’t bear the hurt of the entire world--what good would it do for her to fall in love, knowing that there was no possible chance for anyone to love her back. She had tried; Ginny couldn’t completely say that she hadn’t. First with Harry, Dean, Colin, who’d just ended up being a friend, and another one that she couldn’t remember. Of course that wasn’t true, but Michael had angered her so before he’d broken up with her.


Ginny straightened her Chudley Cannons pyjama shirt and swung her feet down to the cold floor. It was Ron’s new shirt and since he’d gotten a lot more bulky, it was three times as big on Ginny. Her old pyjamas, which were undoing at the seams, were currently in a waste basket, but Ginny had told Ron that they were just old and ripped on her, wanting to avoid any ridicule that might happen out of his mouth. So he had kindly offered a shirt; of course, he hadn’t known that she’d picked his new one. The shirt was so long that it came to the middle of her thighs. All she had on underneath were a pair of white cotton knickers, but she didn’t care. It was midnight—nobody would be in the halls anyhow and if they were, they wouldn’t even see her.


“Now that I’ve thought that, I’ll probably run into someone I don’t like, knowing my luck,” Ginny grunted as she headed for the door, not even bothering to put socks or flip-flops on her bare feet.



****



“Oh, Miss Weasley, you scared the life out of me! Wh-what are you wearing?”


Ginny glanced down. “Pyjamas? Madam Pomfrey, I’m not feeling very good. I’m having a little bit of trouble sleeping.”


“And you want a sleeping draught? Miss Weasley, you are aware of the fact that you have a small concussion?”


Ginny bit her lip. Damn, she’d forgotten about that, and considering her circumstances, it wasn’t a surprise. “Yes, but I need sleep! I’ll be fine. Please? I just—” Ginny tried to hold in the whimper that was threatening to escape, but with no luck, it came and her voice cracked with emotion as she finished her sentence. “I just want to stop thinking for tonight.”


Madam Pomfrey’s gentle, very understanding eyes stared into Ginny’s. It was as if the nurse--no, Healer--knew what was wrong with her.


Madam Pomfrey sighed heavily and shook her head. “I suppose. However, since you’ve never taken a sleeping draught before, I suggest you take it when you get into your room. It’ll work very quickly.” The homely, but still sweet-looking woman walked towards her shelf and pulled out a tiny vial. “Here you are, dear,” she said with a smile and patted Ginny on the head before gently nudging her to the door. “Now, get back to your room. Here’s a note in case someone happens upon you.”


“Thank you.” Ginny smiled gratefully as she walked out.

When the door was shut, Ginny quickly popped the cap off and chugged it down. She needed for it to work as soon as possible. For the first time in her life, she wished she was old enough to get drunk, but then again, if she did, she’d be too sick tomorrow and that wouldn’t be good for anyone, especially Ron.


“Lumos,” Ginny whispered, flinching slightly at the brightness of the light.


God, my eyes hurt, she thought, holding in a groan. It was absolutely dreadful to get a headache and to have a nagging pain behind her eyes. She didn’t know how anyone could handle this pain, let alone a migraine. Luckily, with the sleeping draught, her headache wouldn’t progress into a migraine; she was most definitely not in the mood to start having blackouts.


As Ginny started down the corridor towards Gryffindor Tower, she started to sway. She shook her head and frowned. “Whoa, this stuff is quick,” she gasped softly, extending a hand towards the wall. She snorted. “Guess I should have listened!”


She shook her head again, trying to clear it and stay awake. Ginny dropped her head lightly against the brick wall, and starting going forward, brushing the tips of her fingers against the rough surface.


Ginny suddenly started humming a song she’d heard from Hermione’s music box one summary. Unchained Melody was a beautiful muggle song that, once she’d heard it, she had played repeatedly. Ginny had been with Hermione for two weeks that summer and she was sure Hermione would never listen to the song again.


“You know, if you weren’t a Weasley, I might consider telling you that you have an amazing voice, except for that cracking in the beginning, but that would go against my code of ethics--or rather, that would go against my lack thereof,” Malfoy drawled out, looking as if he’d just turned the corner to put himself into her line of vision, smirking at her.


Ginny stopped sliding against the wall, and pulling her head from the wall, cocked it to the side, frowning. “What?” she whispered somewhat hesitantly.


“I said that you’d better have a good reason for being out past curfew,” Malfoy snapped, his eyes starting to take notice of her clothing, “and without proper attire.”


“I have a note,” she breathed out, her eyes lifting to his.


She cringed as she watched him appear startled for a minute at her eyes. “Right, then--let me see it,” Malfoy spoke shortly, extending his hand and snapping his fingers.



“It’s from Madam Pop-no-Madam Pomph—” Ginny stopped and blinked, snorting at her attempt to speak and stay awake at the same time.



She turned around, leaning her back against the wall, and began to slowly slide down. Malfoy jerked his eyes up and lunged forward, catching her. “Whoa—why in the bloody hell didn’t you wait until you got back to your dorm?”


Ginny glanced up as she heard someone whisper ‘rotten children, all they can think about is late night rumps’. She saw an old man with white pyjama’s and a matching cap. His long stringy white hair covering the sides of his most likely wrinkled face. She blinked and noticed something in the corner of her eye. It was then that Ginny saw the masculine silhouette in the hall, a tiny bit of light shining behind the figure stopped her from seeing his face.


“Malfoy! You had better have a damn good reason for holding her like that!” Ron’s voice boomed from twenty feet down the hall, his face barely noticeable, but what Ginny did see was definitely not good.


“Excuse me, Weasel, but considering it’s neither the mudblood nor your rounds tonight I’m obliged to question your presence after curfew.”


“I’m with Hermione. As Head Girl she doesn’t really need to answer that, therefore I do not either,” Ron informed him smugly, as if daring Malfoy to start an argument.


“Doing what?” Malfoy sneered in disgust.


Ron’s ears tipped with red. “Not that, you sick pervert. Harry’s with us, stupid ferret,” Ron growled just as Harry came into view.


Malfoy sighed heavily, bringing his hands up to massage his temples. “I really don’t have time for your crude immaturities. Orgies between the three of you are something I could’ve died without hearing.


Hermione glared. “Don’t be foul, Malfoy.”


Ginny snorted in laughter. “Orgies? What are orgies? Is it muggle slang?” she asked suddenly, causing Ron to choke, Hermione to blush, Harry to shake his head, and Malfoy to smirk at her. Ginny, slightly drowsy, glared at Malfoy. “What are you laughing at? Why do you know muggle slang anyhow Malfoy?”


Ginny watched Malfoy warily as he knelt down in front of her. Just as he started to whisper in her ear to tell her exactly what an orgy was, Ron leapt forward and jerked him roughly away. Harry went to Ginny and swiftly lifted her up into his arms.


“Stop trying to corrupt my sister!” Ron yelled, his face becoming blotchy with rage.


“Hey! Shut up!” a man in a painting yelled at them. “Tryin’ to sleep here! Little brats,” he mumbled the last part.


Ginny clucked her tongue and glared at the painting in front of her. “Well, that was just rude!” She said, looking highly offended.


Hermione frowned as she walked towards Harry and Ginny. “Her pupils are dilated. Ginny, have you been doing drugs?”


“NO!” she said, laughing it off as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck, kicking her legs innocently up and down over his arms.


“Ginny, did anyone make you drink anything that tasted funny?” Harry asked softly, trying to force her to make eye contact.


She shook her head, her vision blurring slightly.


“Malfoy, if you ever touch my sister again, you’ll regret it,” Ron said, his eyes flashing with warning, his voice low and commanding.


“He wouldn’t touch me--he’s repulsed by me, and who wouldn’t be? I’m freak,” Ginny whispered, turning her face into Harry’s neck and shoulders.


“Ginny!” Hermione scolded. “Don’t talk about yourself that way! You are not a freak. You’re a very special girl.”


Ginny let out a guttural laugh and lifted her head up. “Special, freak, what’s the difference?” She moaned and shook her head. “I’ve got these images in my head,” she growled, her index and ring fingers digging into her left temple, “and they won’t leave me alone. I see things and I just wanted it to be quiet! I took a sleeping draught. Madam Pomfrey said it was okay.”


“She’s barely making any sense,” Harry mumbled, adjusting her in his arms better.


Ginny sighed. Perhaps if they actually listened they'd know it wasn't nonsense, but it was probably asking too much of them.


“Malfoy do you—where did he go?” Ron snapped, searching around, only to see the place where the boy had been standing empty. He glanced down the hall to see it empty as well.


“Who cares?” Harry said. “Thank God that he’s gone.”


“Ginny? What the hell are you wearing? Harry, her shirt's riding up—her knickers are showing! Ginny, if you weren’t in this state, I’d kick you,” Ron spoke softly, shaking his head.


She scoffed at him. “Ohh, this stuff works quick,” Ginny stated, dropping her head against Harry’s shoulder again.


“Hey, that’s my shirt!” Ron spoke quickly, as if it just hit him.


Ginny giggled again. “Ronald, Ron—that’s a funny name, but you’re my favourite brother, so I’ll tolerate your wo-weird name.” Her laughter this time was deep and tired-sounding. “I’m so sleepy, Harry.”



“I know, Gin.”



“Question, how exactly are we going to get her back into her room? I can’t carry her and neither of you can exactly levitate her up the girls dormitory steps,” Hermione said, her arms folding across her chest, her eyes searching for the question from Ron and Harry.



“Well, what about you?” Ron asked.



“I told you, I lost my wand—I ripped a hole through my robe pocket. Why do you think we were out here?” Hermione said, becoming irritated, her tongue clicking at the roof of her mouth, her stance becoming stiffer than before.




“Ron, couldn’t I sleep in your room?” Ginny mumbled against Harry’s neck, her heavy eyelids slowly closing against her will. “I don’t want to have any nightmares.”



Ron pursed his lips together and sighed. “You’re having nightmares again? All right. Harry, give her to me.”



Harry walked over to Ron, who reached his arms out and pulled her to him. Ginny instantly fell closer to his chest and her breathing labored, indicating she was asleep.



****


“I’m not going to get in trouble for this, right?” Ron asked Hermione at the bottom of the steps that led to the boys’ dorm.



“No--Dumbledore will understand,” Hermione said, smiling down at Ginny and tucking a piece of hair behind the redheaded girl's ear. “Ginny seemed different tonight.”



“You noticed that too, huh?” Harry sighed. “Not only different--something’s wrong.”



“Any idea what?” Ron asked, looking down at her.



“None,” Harry and Hermione said at the same time.



“So, did you guys find anything about her little episode the other day?”



Hermione shook her head ‘no’. “Not unless she’s a Seer.”



Ron snorted. “No way!”


To Be Continued…

Thanks: Corisu Li for beta reading, and to all of the people who reviewed. I’m sorry that I don’t respond to hardly any of them! I try though, I just forget easily. *Shrugs*

Chapter Two: Race for Ron

Ginny jerked awake, her breathing accelerated and perspiration beaded on her forehead. The day that Ginny had feared was rearing its ugly head. It was Sunday October 20^th, the day that Ron would get speared by a dragon--the day that he would die.

Not if I can help it! Ginny thought fiercely to herself. Please God let me be able to help it!

She glanced down at herself; her legs tangled in her brother's maroon-coloured sheets. A pallet of blankets lay bunched up on the floor next to his bed. Ron, even though he was sometimes big-headed and overprotective, could be very, very kind. She loved him dearly and would never let anything happen to him. It was her duty as a Seer.

Ginny did a double-take when she realized that she was alone in the room. “Oh no—” she gasped, leaping up, searching for Ron’s clock, and cringing at what the big hand pointed to: Quidditch Match.

It was twelve in the afternoon and the game was starting, whether Ginny wanted it to or not. It really wasn’t as if she could stop the game from happening, anyway, and the dragon's coming was inevitable. Inevitable.

“I hate that word--inevitable,” she whispered, starring into Ron’s mirror. “Its meaning is so closed minded,” she pouted.

Her eyes were red, her cheeks blotchy, and her nose runny from her crying episode that she'd had last night. Her boys had been dears, and she had to say that she’d actually been surprised that neither Harry, Ron, Seamus, nor Dean was uneasy with her waterfall of tears.

My boys? And really, they are…my boys. My crush with Harry has been over for a while, but I still feel deeply for him. Ron’s my favourite brother, and even though I dated both Seamus and Dean, and then broke up with them, I have no ill feelings towards them. I care for them, as well.

It was as if she’d had three extra brothers at school, though sometimes she felt that Dean wanted to be more than friends again.

Ginny stared at the mirror and shivered violently as she felt her oncoming vision take her with full force. She gasped as she felt herself tip the stool over and crash to the floor.

“Ginny no,” Ron cried in anguish through gritted teeth. “What did you do?” Tears were freely falling down his face. “You’re so stupid! What did you do?” He sobbed and yanked her up into his arms, her head resting on his chest.

“Merlin, Ron, don’t move her like that!” Hermione swore, but her voice failed to reach him.

While rocking back and forth, Ron cradled Ginny in his arms, blood coating his arms and Quidditch uniform. He started chanting softly, “No, no, no--you’re so stupid!”

Ginny came out of it gasping, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh God—” She licked her lips and cautiously pulled herself up, staring into the mirror once more. Her hair was even messier than it had been before, her eyes bloodshot, and her entire body trembling. With her lips pursed, she raised her hand and wiped away her tears. “It’s the only way, isn’t it? It’s why you sent that vision to me, right? I get killed instead of Ron.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, looking up at the ceiling, hoping that the Powers that Be would for once answer their messenger. “For the best, I guess--right?” She choked on a sob and bit her bottom lip hard. “Oh please, let me be brave,” she begged, lowering her head onto the table.

Her shoulders shook with the realization of how much her family--her brother-- meant to her.

****

“ . . . and another ten points for Gryffindor,” an unknown Ravenclaw screamed with enthusiasm.

Ginny smiled up at the speaker—though he wasn’t as good as Lee Jordan, Fred and George’s best friend, he still managed to bring something funny to the announcements.

“—who’s taken Ginny Weasley’s place. Bloody shame that she got injured!”

She hadn’t heard who’d taken her place; she couldn’t even remember if they even had an extra. Her eyes searched the air for Harry.

Please don’t catch the Snitch too soon, Harry--please. I just want to--to be a little longer. A lonely tear fell down her cheek and she turned to watch her brother stop the Quaffle once again.

“Ginny? Are you all right?” Hermione nudged Ginny’s side with her elbow.

Ginny let her long reddish-orange hair fall in front of her face and she took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Hermione?”

“Yes?” The older girl averted her eyes from the game and stared at Ginny.

“We should have a girls’ night tonight. You and me, or a few others as well, it’d be fun,” Ginny spoke softly, timidly, something she’s only started doing since her visions had been getting more detailed.

Hermione stared, and for a moment, Ginny thought she might deny her. “Of course. That would be fun. I don’t have any homework anyway.”

Ginny gave a small smile and bowed her head, knowing full well that Hermione would much rather be jumping a head in her classes. It was the ‘Hermione’ thing to do. “Okay then, it’s settled.”

Why am I making plans? I’ll be dead in less than an hour, so why? I can’t let anyone know, that’s why. They can’t suspect, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“Harry Potter has caught the Snitch!—no surprise there, really.”

Oh Harry, why do you have to be so good at everything you do? Ginny sighed and slowly stood up, her heart heavy with fear and grief. She galloped down the bleachers.

Let me be strong and brave like you, Harry. Give me your courage. . . I don’t want to die! I’m not ready yet. . .

Ginny shook her head and took a deep breath to keep herself from hyperventilating. “I’m not ready yet, please, I’m not ready,” she gasped, and quickly slapped both of her hands over her mouth, sobbing into them, her shoulders wracking from the force of her crying.

“Ginny?” Hermione spoke softly next to her ear.

Ginny jerked her head up, her eyes wet with tears. “I’m not ready, Hermione.” Ginny shook her head, her mouth dropping open, and she jerked the older girl into her arms. She clutched tightly, burying her face into Hermione’s neck. “I’m so scared,” Ginny said through gritted teeth.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny, her face puzzled and slightly shocked at the sudden emotional outburst. “Scared of what, Ginny?”

Ginny, who’d been facing the open area of the Quidditch pitch, lifted her eyes, searching for Ron. After all, it was time for her to die.

No! she cried silently to herself. It was happening right now! Ron was in the position in which he’d been speared, and if she remembered her vision correctly, the dragon would appear in the sky in less than two minutes.

“NO!” Ginny shouted loudly and leapt down the rest of the steps.

“Ginny! Wait!” Hermione called out, quickly running after the frantic redheaded girl.

Ginny’s hair whipped her face, the gusty, almost angry wind stinging her face and chapping her lips.

****

And there it was, the fire-breathing green dragon with abnormal claws, and a fierce, almost human glare. Hermione choked and stopped in her tracks. “Oh my God,” Hermione whispered. “RON!” The dragon dived. “NO!!”

It was then that Hermione saw Ginny, who was pushing Ron out of the way. “She knew--dear lord, she knew,” Hermione whispered in awe, her eyelids blinking rapidly as the knowledge of what she’d just figured out set in. “Oh Ginny.” She bowed her head and sighed.

Ginny screamed just as Ron turned around, with an angry look that said ‘what the hell did you push me for’ on his face. It was quickly replaced by shock as blood splashed onto his face and shirt, causing him to flinch back. Her brother watched as the dragons’ mouth seemed to grin at them, its wings flapping. Ginny’s mouth opened wide as she gasped in pain, her eyes filled with horror. A twenty-inch talon was sticking straight through her chest and blood was soaking the front of her white shirt.

“Ron,” Ginny said weakly.

Ron breathed deeply, almost in a panicked rush, his eyes a little wild, filled with tears. “Ginny?”

Hermione ran towards them only to stop as the harsh wind from the dragon's wings beat her in the face. It started to fly away, with poor Ginny still stuck to its talon. Harry looked on as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Hermione dimly heard Professor Snape hollering for Remus Lupin, who was running towards them; he'd been at the Quidditch game to support Harry.

Ginny yelled with pain as she reached her arms out towards Ron, tears streaming down her face. It was then that Harry managed to register what was happening.

“Merlin! We’ve got to get her off its claw! It's taking her!” Harry cried out, leaping onto his broom and pushing off from the ground.

“Harry! GET HER!” Ron screamed up at him through gritted teeth.

Aiming his wand in the direction of the dragon's face Harry screamed, “Conjunctivitis,” hoping desperately to startle the dragon so that it would stop. It worked, giving him enough time to pull Ginny off the sharp nail. She let out an agonizing scream, so loud that it caused Harry to flinch.

“Potter, bring her down, quickly!” Snape shouted. “We must get her to Pomfrey.”

But as Harry brought her to the ground, Ron leapt forward, taking her into his arms and collapsing onto the ground, blood staining the green grass.

“RON!” Remus snapped.

“Gin? Answer me,” Ron whispered, pushing aside her hair, which had fallen in her face, covering it.

Harry looked down, his eyes filled with horror. “There’s so much blood,” he whispered. “Ron, we have to take to the infirmary, quickly.”

“No! YOU LEAVE HER HERE!” Ron screamed jerking his head up.

His voice was filled with so much anger that Harry and Hermione flinched and took a step back.

“Ron—” Lupin barely audibly whispered.

“I can’t breathe,” Ginny gasped weakly, struggling to get air.

Snape quickly yanked out his wand and knelt beside her. “Anapneo,” he said, flicking his wand.

“What was that?” Harry whispered.

Hermione, not taking her eyes off of Ginny, answered for Snape. “It’ll open up her air passageway. I think the talon pierced the side of her lung, from the way the hole is directed. We have to apply pressure to the wound,” Hermione stated surprisingly calm.

“Ow! No, no, stop. Sto-stop, Her—mione, don’t touch me,” Ginny panted, dimly hearing voices of the people around. “It hurts.”

Hermione jerked back. “Ginny, I have to. You’re losing too much blood.” She bent forward again.

“Granger, Weasley, move aside this instant,” Snape growled. “Minerva I need these people out of here!” he yelled as he saw the old woman bustling through the thick crowd of concerned and frightened.

“Stop it—I’m supposed die. It’s o-kay,” she spoke softly, her words becoming short and choppy.

Snape frowned, then glared, taking out his wand. Just as he was about to lift her up Ron dropped down to cradle her once again.

“Weasley, move out of the way,” McGonagall snapped, but quickly stopped as she noticed the hitch in the younger girls breathing. “Oh dear.”

Snape placed his wand back into his robes.

That’s right, it’s too late, Ginny thought. It was too late the moment this day started.

“Ginny,” Ron cried in anguish through gritted teeth. “What did you do?” Tears were freely falling down his face. “You’re so stupid! What did you do?” He sobbed and yanked her up into his arms, her head resting on his chest.

“Ron, don’t move her like that!” Hermione swore, but her voice failed to reach him.

Ron rocked back and forth with Ginny cradled closed to his chest, blood coating his arms and Quidditch uniform. He started chanting softly, “No, no, no--you’re so stupid!”

****

Ginny gasped as images flashed behind her eyes.

I guess you really do see your whole life seconds before you die. I don’t think I ever imagined that dying could be so painful, but how is that something I’d be able to imagine?

She gave a tiny smile as one image in particular stood out. Her first year, at the Burrow, she had lost her jumper, and she’d run down the steps in a mad search for it only to see the boy that had been filling her dreams the whole summer.

“Gin, you have to look at me. No, don’t close your eyes damn it!” Ron cried, desperately, his fingers digging into her forearms.

She could barely see anything but the silhouette, of the now smaller group of people, surrounding her. She felt a pang of fear as the harsh voices of everyone become soft, almost to a dull buzz.

“Wh--why can’t I stay?” Ginny panted, looking up at Ron with pleading eyes as Hermione and Harry stared on, crying. “I want to stay.”

“You can stay--please stay, Ginny,” Ron cried, the last words more desperate than the first, stroking her blood stained face.

Ginny took a few more shallow breaths and then, she went limp in Ron’s arms. “Ginny? Ginny? No! No!”

To Be Continued…

Don’t kill me-of course she isn’t dead either, but then again you knew that I’m sure. This is absolutely my favorite chapter so far. I wrote it the exact way I imagined it in my dream—pretty pathetic when you dream about fictional characters huh? Well, this whole story started because of that one two minute dream. I hope you all enjoyed it and if you found it confusing in anyway I apologize! Thanks for reading! ~Aya

Oh and if you’re wondering when the ‘Egyptian’ part of the title is going to come into play then you’ll only have to wait for the next chapter called: Vision of Prophecy

Dialogue that wasn’t mine:

“Not even a little, not even at all,” ~10 Things I Hate About You (at least I think this line is similar)

‘Wh-why can’t I stay?” ~Winifred Burkle, Angel season five.

Warning: A most likely over-dramatic chapter! Draco is a little more OOC than usual.

The chapters should start becoming longer and I might not be able to fit everything in this story into seven or eight chapters’. I might have to extend it, but I really want to avoid that so please be patient for updates.

Thanks to my beta reader once again. She’s gone through every chapter so far, which means grammatical changes and a few things gone different. So it wouldn’t really hurt to re-read everything, but it’s not a necessity.

Chapter Three: Vision of Prophecy

“Mmm,” Ginny moaned, shifting her body and feeling sharp jolts of pain course behind her eyes and around her entire head. What was worse was that every breath she took stung her chest and the air tasted of coppery blood.

I’m alive. . . but in my vision, I felt myself die! How is that possible? Maybe I’m in heaven.

Her eyelashes fluttered against her pale cheeks, her eyes seeing only darkness. “Oh Merlin, am I blind in heaven?”

Why would it hurt so much if I were in heaven? Ginny wondered, feeling wetness in her eyes.

“You aren’t blind, there’s just a bandage around your eyes, and you’re not in heaven,” Hermione informed Ginny, her voice sounding distressed.

Ginny frowned, her heart leaping with agony. “Am I in hell? It would explain why I’m in so much pain. . .”

Hermione scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous…you’re alive! Why would I be in hell with you? Are you afraid of me?”

“I--I guess not. Why are there bandages around my eyes?”

Feeling the bed dip from a weight, Ginny turned towards Hermione as much as she could without the pain overloading her senses. She flinched when she felt icy cold hands latch around her very hot one. “Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey had to be sure that you had the Sight before they confirmed it to anyone.”

Dread nearly took Ginny’s breath away. Did I hear correctly? “Sure that I had what?”

“Merlin's teeth!” Hermione’s voice was filled with so much fury, that Ginny could barely keep herself from cringing. “Ginny, I’m trying really hard not to be angry with you because you’re hurt and you saved your brother's life, but stop playing stupid. It’s been confirmed that you’ve had the gift of Sight for years. YEARS! It’s why your eyes hurt! The only-” Hermione’s voice cracked with emotion, but she quickly cleared her throat and started talking again. “The only way that they could test it was by sticking needles in—” Hermione cleared her throat once more. “Well it’s why they hurt. They had to get to the optic nerve of your eye to measure what types of waves were being transmitted. After they finished, Ron threw up, and Madam Pomfrey made him leave. So he doesn’t fully know the truth, but I do, as does every single teacher, out of necessity.”

Ginny felt her lower lip tremble, her hand instinctively squeezing Hermione's. “Does Harry know?”

Hermione exhaled and bowed her head. “Yes. Actually, he just found out. I believe he’s trying to take it all in. I’m sure he’s telling Ron right now—Ginny, why didn’t you tell us?”

Ginny started to talk, but was cut off quickly by a pain that had started off as more of an annoyance, but had quickly become so miserably hurtful that it was hard to breathe. “C-an w-e ta-lk abo-ut—” Ginny panted as the pain nearly became too much.

She was going to black out again. I can’t, please don’t. Then, just as soon as it had come, it vanished.

“It’s gone,” she mumbled softly, and just as quickly, another thought came. “Why would they inflict more pain on me after I was shish-kabobbed by a dragon?”

Hermione was so quiet that Ginny, if she hadn’t heard the gentle breathing coming from the girl, would have assumed she’d left. “Ginny, they need to do more tests on you.”

“What?” she cried in outrage. “Why?”

“Do you feel any pain where you were you were ‘shish-kabobbed’?”

Now Ginny knew why Hermione had been so quiet. What the bloody hell? Ginny thought as she concentrated on her chest and abdomen. “No.”

Ginny felt the bed jiggle slightly, knowing that Hermione was nodding then. “You healed.”

“Wow, healing techniques are getting better and better. How long did it take?”

“No, Ginny, you don’t understand. Before Madam Pomfrey could give you a healing potion, your blood platelets were already working a hundred times as fast as they should have--no matter that they started when air hit the blood. You were only out for a few hours. No one is able to heal that fast, unless of course you’re a vampire, but I’ve seen you in ultraviolet rays, so that was ruled out. It was like I could literally see the blood clotting or something, if that’s possible anyway.”

“Is today still October 20^th?” Ginny whispered softly.

“Yes. The dragon came around twelve o’clock in the afternoon and it’s now ten o’clock at night.”

Ginny frowned, then gave half of a smile. “If I’m immune to mortal wounds, why can’t I be immune to pain?”

“That’s not funny,” Hermione stated simply.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are your eyes still in pain?”

Ginny shook her head. “No. It’s more irritating than painful, like the beginning of a migraine.”

“Okay, we can probably take the wrap off. Madam Pomfrey?” Hermione called.

Ginny heard a door open and close.

“Ginny says that it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“All right dears, let’s see what we have,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ginny felt her head being lifted and the wrap slowly being unwound. She blinked her eyes open and frowned when she saw the look of surprise in Madam Pomfrey and Hermione’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your eyes are bloody.” Hermione swallowed, her face losing colour.

“What?”

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “It seems some blood strayed into your sclerae,” the woman said, patting the side of her hip as if searching for something.

“Does it look really bad?”

“It doesn’t look bad--maybe eerie because you have the colour of your irises and then, instead of white behind them, it’s blood red. A rather awkward look, I suppose,” Hermione said, turning her head from side to side and staring intently into Ginny’s eyes.

“Hermione, you’re making me uncomfortable,” Ginny said softly.

“Sorry.”

“Here it is,” Madame Pomfrey said so suddenly that both girls jumped.

Ginny frowned; she’d forgotten the woman was there. It seemed that the reason for Madam Pomfrey’s sudden words was a compact mirror. She presented it to Ginny.

Ginny swallowed slowly, staring at the tiny mirror, but not actually seeing anything. She blinked once and then carefully opened her eyes. She lifted her hands up and placed her fingertips at the outer corner of her eyes, stretching them open and pushing down.

“Oh my—” Ginny whispered, a hand dropping to her lips.

And I thought I was scary looking before, Ginny thought.

****

“Ginny,” Ron whispered once he saw her enter the Gryffindor common room. “You okay? Your eyes!”

Ginny smiled and nodded, allowing him to grab her swiftly into a hug. “I know--freaky, huh? Madam Pomfrey said that it should be gone in a little bit.”

Harry slowly walked down the stairs from the direction of the boys dormitory, water clinging to his hands. He took the last step, and then wiped his hands against his jeans. Harry chuckled softly. “Can’t stop washing my hands,” he spoke softly, his green eyes showing his uneasiness. “I just keep on seeing your blood all over them. Then, you healed as if nothing had even happened. Kind of weird, you know.”

Ginny nodded. “Thanks for saving me—again!”

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asked, staring at her. His eyes looked as if they were flashing with something.

“Of course,” Ginny smiled at him gently.

“Was Sirius off your list of people to save?”

Ginny flinched. Had she heard correctly? His eyes look dull, Ginny thought. “What?”

“I want to know why you didn’t save Sirius. You have visions, right? So, why? Why was he knocked off the list you made?” Harry said, his voice so calm it was almost frightening.

For a second, Ginny still didn’t registered what he was saying—what he was asking. If it hadn’t been for the dangerous look in his eyes she probably still wouldn’t have been able to comprehend what he was saying.

“If I could have saved him, I would have. It was out of my hands. If I could change how things happened that night, I would do it in a minute, but I’m not a god. How do you think I felt? Knowing that I have this gift and I still couldn’t save someone that’s important to you, to me, to my family,” Ginny spoke softly, her surprise still evident on her face.

“You could’ve saved him and you didn’t. That’s the truth,” Harry growled, his fist clenching tightly.

Ginny stared at him in horror, tears forming in her eyes. She spoke through gritted teeth and with her voice cracking from overloaded emotions. “It doesn’t work that way! I haven’t been able to see anyone’s future that I care about--”

“Oh, so you don’t care about Ron,” Harry snorted angrily.

“--until recently—something’s happened that is now allowing me to really see, to see everything that comes to me. The people that I care about are no longer blocked from the wards that the Fates set.”

“The what?” Harry practically snarled.

“Harry, watch your tone! You know I’ve never put up with your crap, and I won’t start dealing with it now!”

“The Fates are three sisters that decide human fate,” Hermione offered.

“You mean like those three ugly hags in Hercules?” Harry asked, peeved, his eyes shifting to the bushy-haired girl.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “They are not ugly nor old. They are personified as very beautiful and young women that look like they’re around twenty-five or thirty.”

“You know, Harry, what’s making this hurt so much is that I understood you. I always understood you because I know what it’s like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders. The only difference was that the whole world knew about you, but as for me, I didn’t have anyone constantly reminding me of who or what I am, but I had to endure my pain alone. I could never tell anyone,” Ginny said, her last words emphasized heavily.

“You chose that, Ginny. Don’t pull that bullshite on me!” Harry growled angrily, turning his back to her.

Ginny’s eyes watered and she bit her bottom lip. “You right, I did. I thought I was protecting all of you from what this world is really like--and not just the wizarding world, but the Muggle world, too. Do you remember that time that I went to Hermione’s for the weekend two years ago? Well, I had a vision of a little girl being beaten to death by her drunken father for no apparent reason. The next day, Hermione was introducing me to the news. . . and on that T.V., right at that exact moment, I saw the face of that little girl once again.”

Ginny stopped and took a deep breath. “You know, I never understood why I’d get visions that I could do nothing about. That little girl may have well been on the other side of London--there wasn’t any possible way I could have saved her. It happened within hours of my vision! So, sure, Harry you got a raw deal--dead parents, dead Godfather, and a psychotic powerful wizard that everyone’s scared of who’s out for your blood.”

Hermione gasped.

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Ginny, you’re out of line!”

Ginny turned a dead stare to him, causing him to flinch back from the reality of how grown up her look was. “Ron, when you go through what I go through every single day, then you can tell me who’s out of line. I don’t need Harry screaming at the top of his lungs at me because my Sight missed Sirius’s death! I am sorry if that pisses him off!”

Ron gritted his teeth, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I get visions!” Ginny stated as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “What I get is completely different from what Professor Trelawney gets--she occasionally has a good day and actually gets the truth. My visions are sometimes so powerful they knock me unconscious for hours or give me bloody noses and a migraine for days,” Ginny growled out, glaring fiercely at Harry.

Hermione’s eyes started tearing as Ginny spoke.

“I also see normal people, good people, getting dealt a bad hand by another person who was just as normal. I see everyday people murdering others for that little bit of extra cash, for an eighth of crack just so they can feel. Then I see the real helpless, the children, and the mothers raising a child alone. I have to deal with the pain of that. When I have visions I feel the pain, if there’s blood I can taste the copper in my mouth, I can smell spoiled food—It’s like I’m there for those two or three minutes. That’s right, my visions are pretty long, and I usually have a couple a day.”

Harry started to speak, but Ginny cut him off. “Hermione, I know you fairly well, so I can tell what you’re thinking. How could I have dealt with this since I was eleven? The answer is glaringly obvious--my family, my friends. They were ignorant to my problem and because of that they treated me normally, like I wanted them to. No one walked on eggshells, afraid that I might have a vision at any time and run to my room contemplating on whether or not I should end my misery and slit my wrists. It was better that no one knew and now that the bliss of ignorance isn’t a barrier, I hope I can survive.”

Ron scoffed. “Don’t be so melodramatic.”

Ginny laughed, tears streaming freely down her face. “Did you not hear me? I can’t be melodramatic when crap like this really happens. I don’t have that luxury, but I do have the choice to live or die. I’ve been choosing to live and I’m hoping it won’t change after what’s happened. This world is disgusting and I honestly don’t see why the higher powers let us live.”

Harry sighed and bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Ginny.”

“What?” Ginny asked, the surprise evident on her face. “Oh--you should be apologizing—”

Harry shook his head. “I’m not apologizing for what I said. I meant it and I’m still a little angry that it was out of your hands because they hadn’t sent it to you. I’m apologizing for the way you see things. They really have taken their toll on you, these visions. I had just thought that that was your personality, but if you can’t see how beautiful this world can be, then I really feel sorry for you. I do have a raw deal and I get it when you say that yours is bad, too. Even though this world has its flaws, there are five good things for every one of them.”

“Name them--for one of the worlds flaws, name five,” Ginny demanded, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands.

“Love--” Harry started.

Ginny snorted. “Oh please! That’s when people really become crazy--where the scary obsession comes in. It’s not love, it will never be love!”

“You obviously haven’t fallen in love,” Harry stated calmly. “Lets see, loyalty when it’s put to the test,” he stopped to smile at Ron and Hermione, “a mother’s need to protect her child no matter what, the happiness in someone’s eyes when something good happens, and when someone who had a raw deal from the start finally gets dealt a good hand.”

Ginny pursed her lips, trying to stop more tears from coming.

“So, I feel sorry for you. Sorry that you get the visions, sorry that they’ve made you into a cold hearted bitch,” Harry said softly.

“Harry!” Ron growled.

“I apologize for that, it was uncalled for--you’re right, Ron. Ginny, you aren’t a bitch, but you are so cold-hearted that I’m starting to get cold from being around you. Your heart’s closed, it’s black, and for someone who hasn’t lost anything, that’s a bad situation. Those visions of other people losing something--you never had to suffer the consequences. Your family has given everything that they can for you. I’m not telling you this to be a bastard--I hope you realize that. You are so afraid to let anyone get close that this is what you’ve become. There’s still hope, though.”

Ginny felt her strength leave her as her legs crumbled. She landed on the floor with her thighs together, her ankles outward on either side. Tears were pouring from her bloodied eyes. Ginny bowed her upper body over, sobbing freely now. It was then that she felt arms go around her and the familiar scent of green tea filled her nostrils.

Hermione was completely different, it seemed. She’d never been like this. In just the past couple of hours of her knowing Ginny’s secret, she’d done a complete transition, it seemed, and Ginny was grateful for this different side of her.

Hm, perhaps I am too quick to judge, she thought.

Ginny pulled away from Hermione and slowly stood up to leave the common room. “I need to go think.”

“Wait, Ginny--the curfew!” Hermione called.

****

“Watch it, Weasley. Out again past curfew? You’re just begging for a spanking, little girl.” Draco Malfoy smirked irritatingly.

Ginny shrank back. She’d always been a little afraid of him for some reason. When she was angry, that didn’t matter, but when she was hurt, it wasn’t something that she could handle. “Can you just pretend that you’re of the humane wizarding race and leave me alone?” she said softly, lifting her head.

He blinked and his eyes widened a fraction. “Whoa, I thought you healed fast? Why didn’t it work on your eyes?”

“You know about that?”

“Weasley, it’s not everyday that a dragon flies down, spears a student, and that student heals the same day without a spell.” Malfoy smirked arrogantly. “Everybody knows. Of course, the teachers were all secretive about it, or trying to be, anyhow. Have you ever seen a teacher whisper to another teacher about something that everyone already knows about? Funny, really.”

Ginny frowned and watched his face as he continued to talk.

“That dragon came right down in front of everyone. His wings flapped so hard that they knocked Parkinson over. It was...” He stopped and stood straight, his composure and arrogance returning. “Well, it was exciting, to everyone that wasn’t being speared.”

Ginny giggled, and soon, that giggle turned into a laugh. She continued to laugh, her tears of sadness changed to tears of happiness--and then just as suddenly turned to sobbing. Her shoulders racked with sob after sob.

***

Draco stared at the red-headed girl, surprised that he’d made her laugh and even more surprised that she started to cry in front of him. He didn’t know what to do. His first instinct was to hit her where it hurt, to lash out and make her feel worse, but any thought he’d had disappeared when she lifted her happier looking eyes up to him.

“Thanks for making me laugh. After the lashing I just took, I needed it.”

“It wasn’t my intention to make you feel better. . . Right, I heard that, but was he wrong?” he asked. “I mean, I hate Potter as much as, if not more than the next Slytherin, and I hate admitting it when he’s right.”

Ginny frowned. “How did you hear it? Did I miss the memo that allowed Slytherins to enter Gryffindor Tower?”

He smirked, licking the corner of his lip. “That’s a secret.”

Ginny folded her arms over her chest, her jaw clicking. “What did you do? Malfoy, you aren’t allowed to pull pranks on Gryffindors. You need to set an example!”

He sneered. “When did you become my mother? Besides, I was with Lavender—in her room--and playing jokes were the farthest thing from our minds. . . If you must know.”

Ginny bit her bottom lip to stop the laughter that wanted to come out. She shook her head at him. “You’re so horrible,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

Draco smirked down at her and reached his hand out to lift her chin up and push aside a tear from her cheek. “I really am. So your brother is still alive, sadly,” he added, “and more importantly, so are you, so it can’t be that bad,” he whispered, surprisingly tenderly, his thumb seeming of it’s own free will, stroking her chin.

Draco frowned suddenly; he could feel the pull that she was having on him. It has to be some spell, he thought, becoming breathless. A damn spell, Draco--snap out of it! He gritted his teeth and shoved her face roughly to the side, glaring at his hand for its betrayal. Draco turned and stormed away, his robe rustling around his ankles.

****

Ginny rubbed her aching jaw. He’d pushed her face a little harder than she would have liked--hell, she would have liked no pushing of the face--but her stomach still burned with. . . something.

She knew what it was. He’d been close, kissing distance. She had felt that way once with Harry.

“The world is officially ending,” Ginny whispered, a tiny hint of surprised laughter in her voice.

****

. . .So that’s what happened today, Diary. Sometimes I feel like I’m living someone else’s life, but I’m not living my life at all; I just exist. And I am afraid, afraid that I won’t be able to make it. This world is hard and scary. I know we were never put here to have it easy. So Harry’s right, I’m more afraid than I thought. There’s a part of me that wants to let people in, but then I feel myself put up this wall and I don't understand why. What strikes me most about Harry is that despite everything he’s suffered, he can still look at life and be happy. I’ve never known that kind of faith. It makes me so sad, that people like Harry, who’ve lost almost everything, can still be open to love, while I, who’ve lost nothing, can’t.

In Muggle Studies, we’re taking a look at Catholic religion and reading The Bible. It’s pretty interesting. We really do have to work towards our own salvation with fear and trembling. I think that day by day, bit by bit, I’m slowly starting to find mine. I even think something good happened today because for the first time in four years I felt that ’crush’ flutter in my stomach again. Of course, I felt it for Draco Malfoy, which is the oddest thing that’s happened all day, really. Can you imagine it, me mooning over Draco Malfoy?

I remember hearing a quote: “If you don’t get your chance when it comes around, you’ll get left behind.” I don’t want to get left behind. So maybe, instead of ignoring the flutter, I should do something. I think that the fear of failure might hold me back, though. I’ll try and push through it. It’s times like this when I actually wish I could have visions about myself. Visions showing me that I’m going to live a long happy life, that I’m going to have a lover who loves me more than anything and vice versa, that my family won’t have to struggle with bills anymore.

Speaking of visions, I had another one tonight. Surprisingly, I’m not completely sure I got it, though. I saw the number seven twice, then I saw my mother, and then me blowing out the candles for my sixteenth birthday. The problem is that my birthday was August 11^th and I’ve never had a vision of the past. I also saw a girl who was definitely an Ancient Egyptian. She couldn’t have been any older than fifteen.

I also saw a date on a strange-looking newspaper, 2147, one hundred fifty years from August 11^th, 1997, and then, I saw myself once again. I think I might have an idea, but I’m not sure just yet. I don’t know what I would do if I were indeed immortal. What puzzles me most is the girl. Why am I seeing a young Egyptian from the past? When I was having the vision, I felt a familiarity to her--like I’ve always known her, like I cared deeply for her, and the need I felt to protect that girl was almost vicious. It was like it were my duty to do anything I could to keep her safe. The more I think about it, the more scared I become.

On a better note, it’s now October 21^st, and my brother is still alive!

G.W.

To Be Continued…

If you don’t get your chance when it comes around, you’ll get left behind - A preview from the movie Sueno

Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling – on the epitaph on the headstone in The Exorcism of Emily Rose and the 2^nd chapter of Philippians, verse 12

There’s a part of me that wants to let people in, but then I feel myself put up this wall and I don't understand why. What strikes me most about Harry is that despite everything he’s suffered, he can still look at life and be happy. I’ve never known that kind of faith. It makes me so sad, that people like Harry, who’s lost almost everything can still be open to love, while I, who’ve lost nothing, am not. – Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants said by Lena (and of course I altered it a bit!)

I know I used a lot of dialogue from the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants, but that speech Lena did in the movie just seemed to fit perfectly with how Ginny is in my story. I’m not sure if I used any other dialogue; tell me if I forgot something!

Sorry, for the delay, this chapter was pretty long. I’m mostly sure the other ones will be like this as well.

My beta reader informed me that Ginny (in this story) is borderline Mary-sue and I know it may seem like that right now, but hopefully with the next couple of chapters it won’t be that way. This is one of the few stories/series I had planned from the beginning, so I hope it doesn’t end with Ginny being a Mary-sue.

Thanks to my beta reader for putting up with the long wait and bad writing!

Chapter Four: The Egyptian Warrior

It was extremely late. Sitting in her bed with a huge musky book across her lap and a few stray pieces of paper resting near her feet wasn’t what she should be doing. Ginny yawned, her jaw making a popping noise, and her eyes watered.

When you first comes into this world as a baby, your parents have the desire, the need, to protect you from everything…Well, how do you tell them that around the age of eleven, positions were reversed, and that you’re protecting them from the horrors of the world? Ginny wondered.

She couldn’t answer it. Technically, her parents already knew about her from what Dumbledore had told them, but they needed to hear it from her. So instead of writing to her parents as she should have been doing, she was researching the Egyptian girl from her vision, praying that she was important enough to be in history books.

Her eyes were blurry, her head hurt, and it was nearing her tenth hour of searching for the Egyptian. Ginny hadn’t expected it to be easy, especially since pictures of Egypt weren’t exactly the moving photographs they were today, but neither did she think that it would take her ten hours. Even now she’d found hardly anything, but one name stood out the most: Princess Nefernefrure, born in eight or nine B.C.

The name felt right. Ginny had no other way of describing it. It has to be her, Ginny thought to herself, pulling the maroon and gold trimmed sheets over her bare legs. It was a gut feeling, but it isn’t always easy to follow one’s gut when one is so uneasy about the decision.

It wasn’t until Ginny continued researching the Princess that she felt a sense of familiarity. Nefernefrure didn’t have a common suffix in her name for her time. It was stated by some researchers that they believed it could have been a change in beliefs. Before Nefernefrure it was common for ‘aten’ to be the ending suffix of a name, not ‘re’. Her name meant ‘Beauty of the Beauties of the Sun (re)’ and Ginny remembered that the sun had been a dominant factor in her vision. Whether it was symbolic or it had just been a sunny day, she didn’t know.

Ginny had a hunch that she’d found her girl, but as she continued researching, she became unsure. By the year fourteen Nefernefrure was no longer talked about. No one knew if she’d died or if she’d been betrothed to a Prince in another land, though that wasn’t in the Ancient Egyptian customs.

Ginny figured that if the religious beliefs had started to change enough to name a child ‘Re’ instead of the usual ‘Aten’ then it was possible that other practiced beliefs could have been altered as well. It was possible.

Ginny groaned and slammed the book shut. Now that everyone knew about her, perhaps she should ask Hermione for some help, even though she was almost positive that the girl she’d seen was Nefernefrure. If it had been her, however, then she was definitely not dead at five or six years old, because in Ginny’s vision the girl had been at least fifteen. More importantly, she’d looked very, very happy, so either she had enjoyed her arranged marriage to the suitor in another land, or she had run away with her lover.

Sighing heavily, Ginny scratched her neck, hoping it had been the last one. Who’d want to be pushed into a marriage that they didn’t want? Unless, of course, she’d made a commitment, but all the same, it should have been her choice.

****

“So you say that you had a vision of yourself on your birthday, which passed almost three months ago, and you’d never had any visions of the past before that?” Hermione asked, looking highly irritated at the fact that she was being bothered. She rested her head on her hand and continued reading an extremely thick book.

“Never.” Ginny frowned as she tried to make eye contact with her. “Hermione—” Ginny paused as Hermione reached for a book entitled Mind Powers of a Witch, a book that was next to another one that read Dragon Training.

Ginny had found Hermione in the library, which really wasn’t much of a surprise. The table at which Hermione sat alone was overflowing with textbooks, and from what Ginny could see, the books were mostly about dragons and mind control.

Thankfully, the library, for the most part, was empty and the people that were there were scattered around the room. Ginny didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing.

Not that it would matter, since everyone’s already afraid of me! Ginny thought, her heart hurting again at that knowledge. You’d think it would be different for witches. They’ve had to deal with scrutiny against them for years from the Muggles.

She’d always been an oddball in the school, but it seemed as if everyone was being a little quieter around her, a little meaner. Someone had actually rammed his shoulder into hers when she’d been walking to class. Ginny had dropped all of her books, papers had scattered, and she’d broken her last quill. At first she’d thought the collision had been an accident, but then Ginny had glanced up and seen that person’s face. It was filled with hate, fuelled by fear.

Hermione nodded, nibbling her lower lip. “Perhaps it can be deciphered not as a vision from the past, but as something to come? Maybe your vision needed pieces of the past for the future to exist and actually happen in it. Your eyes started changing more after your birthday, didn’t they?”

Ginny frowned and thought about that day. She didn’t remember much about it except the fact that she’d woken up sick to her stomach. “I think –um- they might have.”

“Can you remember anything specific about that night?”

Ginny shook her head. “Not really, only that I felt horribly sick, but it didn’t seem like any type of virus.”

Hermione slowly lifted her eyes. Her thoughtful expression hadn’t changed. Her eyes still looked as if they’d found something of interest, something that hadn’t quite been figured out yet, but was on the verge of being discovered. …and it was holding the promise of great importance. “Can you explain to me how it felt?”

It wasn’t a pain she was likely to forget, but Ginny didn’t understand where this was going and frankly, it was getting to her. Clenching her jaw with slight irritation as she recalled the pain, she took a deep breath and started describing it. “It felt like a war was being waged and I was its battle ground. Does that pretty much sum it up?”

Hermione frowned, her mouth falling open slightly. “I wonder…a body transition?” she whispered to herself, her hands coming up to cover her cheeks as she thought.

Ginny leaned forward over the library table so she could hear her. “What?” Ginny frowned as she watched Hermione’s eyes flicker with uncertainty.

“A body transition. The pain you spoke of could have been blood cells fighting a foreign cell to stop the change, perhaps? But the change was necessary for you to be able to... er... morph into what you needed to be. It was as if you were being prepared for…something,” Hermione looked puzzled as she thought and then, just as quickly as her confused expression had settled in, it fled, followed by a look of realization. “Ginny, I think your theory was right. I think you’re immortal or pretty close to it,” she spoke enthusiastically, her eyes wide with realization.

“Okay, whoa! Hermione, breathe. I was just—why do you have to be so dramatic about it?” she cried out suddenly, her eyes first puzzled, then snapping to attention, her hands slapping her thighs. “And no one is really immortal, right? I told you it was just stupid talk,” she laughed cautiously, and then stopped abruptly. “Right?”

“Well, as I said, if you aren’t immortal then you’re pretty damn close to it,” Hermione snapped, gritting her teeth. Whether it was at her or at the situation, Ginny didn’t know.

Ginny’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t know what she was more surprised by, Hermione’s language or the fact that she had been so snippy with Ginny. “You swore,” Ginny said, stating the obvious.

Hermione sighed. “Because I want to show you the severity of this situation. I want you to know I’m being serious. I really think something very important changed in you that night. When did Professor Dumbledore say that your testing would begin?”

Ginny frowned. “I had forgotten about that. I haven’t talked to him since the day before I was in the infirmary. It’s actually been awhile since then. What’s it been, three days?”

“What did you talk about?”

“Extra classes that I wanted to take. Ancient Runes mainly. He’d said it was all right, that I could handle the extra work. You know how he gets that look in his eyes, that knowing look.”

Hermione beamed at Ginny. “I’m so proud of you. I’ve wanted you to take that class for the longest time. Are you starting next term?”

Ginny nodded.

“That’s great, Ginny. You’ll love the class.” Hermione grinned happily, her head nodding up and down. Then she quickly and almost professionally got back on topic. “This is going to be a huge scientific breakthrough. A witch that isn’t a vampire becomes one of the immortal, and she’s a Seer at that! It’s a little surreal. Would you mind if I took some of your blood?” Hermione spoke quickly, almost a little too enthusiastically.

“Um-” Ginny paused, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione reached for her wand and then pulled at Ginny’s arm.

“Hey! Hey! I do believe that enough of my blood has been spilled for the next twenty years!” Ginny cried out frantically, trying to yank her arm from Hermione.

Hermione clucked her tongue at the roof of her mouth. “Oh really!”

“Speaking of which, I bled and I almost died. That means I can’t be immortal, right?” Ginny asked, sounding somewhat relieved. The prospect of being an immortal was far too great for Ginny to comprehend, and if she weren’t going to live forever then she wouldn’t have to understand it.

Hermione frowned, nibbled her bottom lip, and lifted her hand, taking a piece of her curly brown hair and rubbing it between her index and thumb finger. “I don’t know. You didn’t die, though, and you healed within a day, less even. It’s got to mean something.”

****

Ginny turned the corner and grunted as she bumped into someone.

Hmm…a male someone, Ginny thought to herself, a very sexy male someone. Shuffling her books to the other arm, she absent-mindedly raised her free hand, and rubbed it against the crisp white shirt. When her hand brushed skin, she realized that the school uniform shirt was rolled up at the sleeves showing rather impressive forearms for a teenager.

Well, impressive to me, anyway.

“What do you think you’re doing, Weasley?” Draco Malfoy said, sounding somewhat detached and slightly annoyed at the same time.

Ginny gasped and yanked her hand away, her eyes looking everywhere but at him. “I-I’m sorry.”

No wonder. This Malfoy crush really has to stop, Ginny thought to herself, becoming quickly alert.

“You’re an odd bird, you know that?”

Ginny lifted her face and gave him a half-grin. She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. She felt light-headed as she glanced up at him again.

It’s really a shame he’s a Malfoy…should I consider being an ‘odd bird’ a compliment? From him, it probably was.

“Um... Hi,” Ginny’s voice wavered, her eyes dropping back to the floor.

“A-huh,” he harrumphed, staring at her with a baffled expression before pushing her aside to continue down the hall.

“What an idiot,” she mumbled, shaking her head and resuming her walk down the corridor. “Um... Hi? Merlin, Ginny, could you be any more pathetic?”

A shout sounded through the hall and Ginny whirled around, her eyes wide and startled. She placed a hand over her heart and took a deep breath. She hated it when people screamed in the halls. If the pictures didn’t mimic it, the booming echo would do it a million times over.

She heard the shout again and scampered down the hall. That’s it, Ginny, run towards the loud yelling and banging, she growled to herself, but continued to go towards the chaotic sounds.

Ron and Malfoy. Ginny flinched as she saw Malfoy push Ron with a strength that she wouldn’t have figured he possessed without a wand, smashing his entire body into a wall.

“Fight,” someone cajoled. “Fight…” the unnamed person chanted.

Ginny ran towards them, her eyes finding Harry in the large crowd. She cringed as she saw Malfoy’s fist smash into the brick wall as Ron ducked. His face etched with pain as he shook his bloodied hand. Ron elbowed him near his kidney in retaliation.

No one was going to stop them.

“Hey! Would you just break it up?” Ginny shouted above the rowdy cheers. “Harry, do something!” she yelled, stomping her foot, but when she looked back at him she realized that he wasn’t there anymore. Ginny’s mouth fell open as she watched Harry being stomped in the stomach as Malfoy and Ron continued going at it. “What the—you aren’t doing any good getting stomped on, now are you?” Ginny yelled down at him.

Harry grunted and glared up at her, managing to evade another foot to the stomach as he scooted away from them. “Like that was my choice of places I wanted to be! I was trying to stop them,” Harry paused as he watched Ron deliver a sickening punch to Malfoy’s nose. “Oh, that’s really good,” Harry grinned, then quickly stopped. “No, no that’s not good. Ron! Malfoy is Head Boy!”

Harry’s warning seemed to not reach the hot-tempered redhead. Ginny clucked her tongue. “Brilliant, Harry,” she spoke sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“The ponce deserves it,” Harry cried in defence.

“That’s beside the point,” Ginny argued, folding her arms across her chest and taking a step back as the brawling teenagers got closer to her.

“Malfoy! Ron! Break it up!” Hermione hollered, pushing her way through a resistant crowd.

Ginny gritted her teeth as she watched people hold Hermione back, telling her that ‘they needed to go at it’. Well, she didn’t save her brother’s life so he could get pummelled to a pulp after a couple of days.

“Guys-” Ginny started, but was quickly shut up as Pansy Parkinson came forward, landing a punch so hard on Ginny’s cheek that she fell to her knees.

“Just stay out of it, Weasley. Draco’s winning,” she said, her face looking dreamy and far off.

It was true; Draco was winning, but barely.

Just as she tried to get up she felt a sharp pain jolt through her midriff as Pansy delivered a hard kick. Ginny coughed as she tried desperately to get some air. She clutched her stomach with one arm, the other supporting her body on the floor. …And that’s when something happened. The moment Ginny placed her other palm on the cold cement floor something flashed behind her eyes and just as Pansy was about to kick her once more Ginny grabbed her foot.

She’d done it so easily, so quickly, that it took her a second to register that Pansy was now on the floor, an expression of surprise, humiliation, and anger filling her facial features.

Ginny swiftly leapt to her feet just as the other girl stood up. When Pansy advanced, Ginny turned to the side and kicked her directly in the chest. The kick was so powerful that it sent her flying into Malfoy and Ron.

Ginny’s eyes widened with shock, staring at her extended leg and foot, which was still in air, in its kicking position.

“What the—” Malfoy growled, glancing up from his undignified sprawled position.

Breathing heavily, Ginny dropped her leg and settled her foot on the floor. She laughed cautiously and walked towards them. “Sorry,” she smiled down at them, bending to lend a hand to her brother.

“Damn, Ginny, where was that power kick hiding?” Ron asked, an astonished look on his face.

She shrugged, partially ignoring him as she watched Malfoy get to his feet, patting at his shirt and pants. Ginny bit her lip, joy fluttering around her heart as she watched Malfoy roll his eyes at Pansy and offer her a hand, helping her to her feet.

So he is a gentleman, she thought, smiling and feeling slightly giddy, even if the person doesn’t deserve it.

“Miss Weasley, you had better have a good explanation for this.” Professor Snape’s voice came from behind her.

She shivered at his tone. He was angry, but she had to listen hard to hear it because of the low octave he’d made his voice go into, and he was puzzled.

Ginny turned slowly, her teeth gnawing into her bottom lip nervously and her fingers gripping the edge of her white school shirt so tightly that she heard a tiny tear coming from the seams. “Well-I—me, sir?”

Could I be any more pathetic? She thought angrily, gritting her teeth.

He gave her a disapproving look and she knew that he hadn’t seen the other two fighting, so the mess would fall to her.

Even though they look like they’ve been fighting! Ginny sighed.

Snape will probably think it was from the hard fall they took when Pansy had flown into them. Just my luck.

“Detention?” she asked, her face falling in defeat.

He nodded curtly. “Tonight, seven o’clock, Potions classroom,” he snapped and stormed past her.

Why did she even bother trying to be helpful?

****

The first thing she saw when she entered the classroom was Malfoy sitting in Professor Snape’s chair with a pair of reading glasses drooping down the slope of his nose, his robes draped open, and his feet kicked up on the desk in front of him. If it had been anyone else, Ginny would have described him as slightly ruffled-looking. Of course, it wasn’t anyone else, so she could only assume that the look was intended. She noticed he was looking down in his lap, and then she heard a page turn.

“Your assignment is on the desk,” he said, not even bothering to glance up.

If it hadn’t been for the tiny silver glint in his mouth as he talked, she probably would have started reading the assignment, but she just stopped, directly beside the desk with the tiny slip of yellow parchment, and stared.

His mouth was entrancing, beautifully shaped, lower lip slightly more full than his top, sneering lip. She’d come to the conclusion a day in a half ago that Malfoy had very kissable lips, suckable even.

Ugh, Ginny!

It took him a full two minutes to sigh and glance up, the irritation evident in his eyes. “What is it?”

Ginny breathed, trying to figure out when exactly she’d started becoming sick to her stomach when she was around Malfoy. Perhaps it was just when he talked to her…looked at her…Talk to him!!

“Um—”

After she’d realized she’d had a crush on Malfoy, Ginny had gone out of her way to get little glimpses of him. She felt incredibly guilty every time she blew off Colin or Luna just so she could watch him practice with his Quidditch team, a schedule she’d come to memorize in the past few days. Slytherin practiced on Thursdays and every other Saturday. She hadn’t yet found the courage to really talk to him.

“Weasley, did I lose you somewhere? Why the hell are you looking at me?”

Ginny’s eyes snapped up to his. “Um, your mouth-tongue-it was silver.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, his head cocking to the side as the corner of his mouth raised up in amusement. He slowly stuck his tongue out.

The entire line down the centre of his tongue was pierced and studded with small silver balls.

“What are they?” she asked, frowning.

“Erotiki sfairi,” he spoke softly before closing his mouth, moving his jaw in such a way that she knew he was rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Huh?”

Malfoy smirked and slowly stood, making his way towards her. He stopped in front of her, so close to her that she had trouble thinking straight. “Sex balls. So my licks are much more—” he paused and bent his head closer to hers, forcing her to bow backwards a little. His breath tickled her mouth. “Stimulating.” She shivered as she felt his top lip brush her bottom lip as he whispered.

My mind is fried, Ginny barely managed to think.

Her knees were quivering and she was praying she wouldn’t fall. Why did she get like this? Why couldn’t she be like a normal girl and just tell him how she felt? Maybe because your families have been feuding forever and he hates your guts. “Oh,” she breathed.

A muffled grunt escaped her lips as she felt his hand slid down the side of her arse, pushing her hips against him and then pushed her away, causing her to bump gently into the desk.

He snorted with laughter, his eyes a light with amusement. His face instantly became sober, serious. “Get to work.”

Ginny knew why he was laughing. He was laughing at her. Merlin, how could I be so gullible, she whimpered.

He was just screwing with me, to make me angry; he doesn’t know how I feel. Please don’t let him know. I don’t think I could handle that humiliation.

She bit her bottom lip hard to keep it from trembling and reached for the piece of paper.

To Be Continued…

[The entire line down the centre of his tongue] and then continues to here [against the roof of his mouth.] ~ Entire scene belongs to Sherrilyn Kenyon

“What the freaking hell did that bitch do to me?” ~ Glory from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Episode: The Gift (100^th)

“Hands, hands,” ~Willow, from Buffy the Vampire slayer, Episode: Doppelgangland

Author Note: This chapter (which is part B) continues DIRECTLY after part A.

Previously:

Ginny knew why he was laughing. He was laughing at her. Merlin, how could I be so gullible, she whimpered to herself.

He was just screwing with me to make me angry; he doesn’t know how I feel. Please don’t let him know. I don’t think I could handle that humiliation.

She bit her bottom lip hard to keep it from trembling and reached for the piece of paper.

Chapter Four B: The Egyptian Warrior

“The Bottle Spell? Why would Professor Snape need to neutralize someone’s power?” Ginny wondered out loud.

“Do the assignment in silence,” Malfoy sighed, flipping another page to his book. “Oh, and Snape’s out of Orris Root so you’ll have to use Oak Moss. Here’s your black ink,” he added, rummaging through a drawer and producing a clear bottle with black ink.

“Why do I need an amethyst stone?”

Malfoy clucked his tongue. “Did you miss Gemstone Magic 101?”

“Huh?”

“Amethyst is a gem used for protection, so in case you screw up, it’ll protect you from the potion’s effects,” Malfoy informed, his voice snappy. “Snape has already spelled it to protect you. Just put it in your pocket and make sure your sorry excuse for a uniform doesn’t have any holes. I’m not about to get into trouble for your incompetence. If you haven’t noticed yet, a spell needs to be performed to activate the potion. He’s already made the word substitutions from what was originally supposed to be said. He’s practically doing the work for you!” he scoffed.

Ginny licked her lips and walked towards the supply cabinet, grabbing black thread, a bottle with a cork, a white candle, oak moss, sea salt, black powdered iron, and frankincense.

She gathered all the ingredients into her arms and went towards the desk, setting everything down. She reached for the abalone shell that had been provided by the Professor, and placed it in front of her. She then started to add all of the dry ingredients into the cauldron, four tablespoons of everything.

“Write the spell on a piece of this parchment, place it in the abalone shell and burn it to ashes, then mix it with the other ingredients,” she read softly to herself. “Pour the dry ingredients into the bottle…”

“No matter how softly you speak, Weasley, I’m still going to hear your voice,” Malfoy muttered.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she ripped a piece of the parchment that had the ingredients on it and started to write the spell. Ginny started to slowly say the spell allowed. “I neutralize the power of evil in this person…” as she continued saying it, she rolled the piece of paper up and tied the black thread around it, then placed it in the abalone shell. She then took the candle and bent the flame towards the bowl.

She poured everything else into the abalone shell, meshing it together with the crystal mixture wand. Ginny then took the cork off the bottle, poured the ingredients into it, dripped the white wax of the candle against the bottom of the cork and then sealing the magic of the spell inside.

The moment Ginny had sealed it; the ingredients instantly became a light purplish liquid. “So it worked?” she called towards Malfoy.

“Is it a light purple liquid?” he asked without looking up, his feet still lazily resting on top of the desk.

“Yes.”

“Then it’s right. Put in the cupboard on the shelf labeled ‘mini potions’. I hope you’ll be able to find the sub category easily.”

Ginny nodded and walked towards the storage cupboard for completed potions and opened it.

Mini Potions: Binding Potions for Emergencies, the sign read.

“There-what?” Ginny cried out. “There are so many of them,” she blurted, her eyes traveling over the miniature clear bottles, with a light purple potion in them.

“I know.”

“Well why?” she asked, putting the bottle in place and then turning to put her hands on her hips.

“What I gather is that Determinatio doesn’t always work to bind ones power.”

“Why would anyone want to do such a thing?” Ginny gasped in horror, her jaw dropping and her hand coming to her chest.

He finally looked up at her, frowning. “What do you think? For the people who abuse their powers, or for the ones that are too powerful for their own good.”

“Oh, okay. I guess that makes sense, well--‘bye,” Ginny said and started for the door.

“Whoa, Weasley, you didn’t really think your detention was going to be that easy, did you?”

Ginny sighed. Of course she thought it, she’d just assumed she’d gotten it easy. “What else do I have to do?”

“Well, your detention is for two hours, you’ve been here for a mere thirty minutes. There’s a lot we could do in an hour and a half.”

“Snape doesn’t have anything else for me to do?”

Malfoy shook his head. “That’s why he left it up to me to finish out your punishment. Truth be told I was kind of hoping you’d finish that potion a little sooner than you did, but obviously I was expecting too much out of you.”

Ginny sighed and bowed her head, twiddling her fingers together.

“Why don’t you tell me what we should do? You’re the one with the visions.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Malfoy,” Ginny snapped at him, highly irritated that he’d brought up a subject still tender to her.

She’d never get used to the fact that people know her secret.

“Well, here’s the thing. There’s a party in my common room, one that I had planned on going to, but I got stuck doing this—”

“It’s your fault I’m here, anyway. You shouldn’t have been fighting with Ron and if you hadn’t been doing that, your bint of a girlfriend wouldn’t have tried anything. I wouldn’t have had to get medieval on her arse in the first place and Snape wouldn’t have seen it.”

Malfoy grinned slowly, raising a hand so that his thumb could stroke the side of his face. “Medieval on her arse? I’ve never heard that one before. As I was saying, I got stuck doing this. So you can serve your detention in my common room at the party as my servant for the time.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ginny snapped. “I wouldn’t be caught—”

“Do you really want to spend a Friday night cleaning dirty cauldrons?” he asked, waving his hand to the right corner where the illusion of thousands of dirty cauldrons magically appeared.

You would be able to look at Malfoy without having to sneak and you’d get to touch him without an excuse, Ginny thought to herself. If Ron ever found out about this crush, he would kill me--and I’d deserve it.

Malfoy dropped his feet to the ground, stood up, and sauntered towards her. “Well? What do you say?”

****

The Slytherin Common room was definitely more elegant and clean-cut than the Gryffindor one.

“Would you like a drink?” an unknown Slytherin asked.

Ginny blinked at the nice tone in the boy’s voice. Does he know who I am? she wondered. “Um, sure, thank you.”

She smiled gently at him, reaching for the cup and holding it in both of her hands. She glanced down. “What is this, a different coloured version of pumpkin juice?” she asked as she raised the glass to her lips.

Malfoy’s eyes widened slightly, he opened his mouth, and raised a finger as if he were going to say something important then decided against it. A smirk slowly started to pull at the right side of his mouth.

When the liquid hit Ginny’s tongue, her eyes widened. The taste was absolutely horrible and her first instinct had been to spit it out, but that would cause a scene and Malfoy most likely would have scolded her. So instead she clamped her eyes shut and forced herself to swallow it.

She instantly gagged and shivered as it went down, scorching her throat. “Bleh!” she groaned, shaking herself. “Oh, that burns. What is this?”

Malfoy smirked and nonchalantly took the drink out of her hands, bringing it up to his lips to take a quick drink. “Firewhiskey,” he said casually, “which means you might get a little tipsy from that big gulp that you took. Idiot child,” he added. “You do not gulp, you sip silently.”

Ginny sucked her lower lip into her mouth nervously. “Sorry,” she whispered.

He sighed and then reached for another glass, handing it to her. “This is pumpkin juice.”

It just amazed her how he could be gentle and a jack arse at the same time. Ginny grimaced as she suddenly saw Pansy coming. Could this night get any worse?

Pansy glared at her as she took Malfoy’s hand. “Speaking of ugly…”

Ginny snorted. Pansy hadn’t been speaking about anything, just glaring.

“Pansy, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what happened this afternoon,” Malfoy spoke softly next to her ear.

Pansy tossed her head in arrogance. “It’s not my fault that she’s a freak.”

“Oh and it’s my fault?” Ginny asked, feeling anger rise like bitter bile in her throat.

“Well—” Pansy started.

“You know I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t get it by signing up for it or paying for it.”

“Well, definitely not by paying,” Pansy snapped.

“I wasn’t placed in a damn line and given the options for it. I never volunteered for headachy visions of other people’s pain. I didn’t ask get speared by a dragon, or knocked unconscious when one vision was a little too vivid. I’d give it away in a second if I could. So don’t you dare call me a freak when you have no idea what I go through every single minute!” Ginny said, the last part spoken through gritted teeth.

Ginny flinched as she felt that familiar tickle in her fingertips. Why now? Ginny asked herself. I don’t need to have a vision now.

Share it with her.

“What?” Ginny asked aloud.

Pansy gave her an ‘oh please’ stare. “I said I feel so sorry for you,” she snorted sarcastically. “Maybe if you told me how it felt—” she started.

Grab the girl’s hand and share it with her.

What the hell? Ginny thought, just as she felt herself starting to flinch backwards, she unconsciously reached for Pansy’s hand.

“Hey!” Pansy cried out and the last thing that Ginny heard was a muffled scream.

*****

Draco frowned as he watched Weasley grab Pansy’s hand. His facial expression deepened when he saw the looks on both of their faces. Weasley had stiffened, her head turning sideways, her cheek crashing to her right shoulder, and her eyes closed. Pansy’s mouth had dropped open, her eyes wide with shock and a little bit of pain. Tears streamed down her face, and it looked as if she were staring at the ceiling, but not really seeing it.

It seemed to last for about a minute before a blue lightning bolt flashed and boomed between their hands, sending Pansy crashing into the table of drinks.

“What the hell was that?” someone mumbled.

“Oh man, we need more drinks.”

*****

“What the sodding hell did that bitch do to me?” Pansy cried out.

Ginny casually walked over to her and stopped directly in front of her. Her feet were spread slightly apart and her arms were folded behind her back.

There were tears in Pansy’s eyes, as she looked up, still sprawled on the floor.

Ginny, staring down at her, spoke with menace. “How does it feel, bitch?” Not waiting for a response she turned to Malfoy. “I would rather clean the cauldrons,” she snapped at him, and then stormed towards the picture, with wide strides and swinging arms.

“Where are you going, Draco?” Ginny dimly heard Pansy’s quivering voice call.

“She still has an hour of detention. I’m not going to get in trouble for not being there.”

*****

Ginny stormed down the halls of the dungeon. Thankfully, the Potions’ room wasn’t too far away.

“Hey, Weasley, wait,” Malfoy called, sounding somewhat breathlessly.

Don’t you dare wait for him Ginny, she yelled at herself, but still she found her feet standing still.

Malfoy elegantly jogged up to her. Hmm, only a Malfoy could jog elegantly. “So, what’d you see?”

Ginny scoffed and adjusted her robes. “That’s none of your business.”

“Oh come on, what could it hurt to tell me?” he cajoled, giving a boyish grin that Ginny had noticed he did a few days ago.

He doesn’t even know he does it! Ginny thought tenderly. I am pathetic.

“There was a lot of blood, so much that the smell was overpowering. It looked like a small massacre. There was too much blood and guts to be able to tell who they were, --well, are. It’s one of those visions where I can’t do anything.”

Malfoy frowned. “Why do you get visions that you can’t help with?”

“Hmm,” Ginny smiled sadly, glancing down at her hands. “That’s what I keep wondering.”

Ginny started walking towards the Potions room.

“Hey Weasley, do you want to just go to your dorm and say that your detention’s over?”

Draco watched as she stopped walking and slowly turned. He couldn’t help thinking how innocently beautiful she looked with her red hair draped in front of her eyes.

“Why would you do that?” she asked, and then rolled her eyes. “Oh right, your party.”

“No, though it helps my reasoning. It wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have gotten that detention,” he answered gently.

She sucked her bottom lip again, nervous habit he’d concluded, and then slowly smiled. “You have a soft spot for me, huh?” she asked.

Oh man, oh man. Ginny, did you just say what I think you said?

Draco blinked. What the hell did she just say to me? “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Ginny slowly walked towards. What are you doing legs? Ginny cried softly in her head. “You have a soft spot for me, don’t you?”

“I have no such thing,” he said incredulously.

“You do, I can see it in your eyes. I could see it in your eyes when you gave me the pumpkin juice, too,” she smiled happily, walking closer towards him. “Draco, I want to kiss you.”

He started backing up. “Do not call me Draco--wait, what?” he asked, surprised and then grunted as he ran into a statue.

Ginny stood up on her tiptoes, fisting her hands in his school shirt to pull him down the rest of the way.

Merlin was he tall.

She turned her head and gently put her lips to his. Ginny jumped as she felt his hands slide to her thighs, resting directly beneath her buttocks before pulling her a little closer.

Ginny gasped as she felt him gently squeeze her arse and she quickly pulled away. “Hands, hands!”

“What?” Draco asked surprised.

“Your hands were on my—” she stopped and frowned.

Draco licked his lips and chuckled softly. “Yeah, and?”

“I just wanted to kiss you. I didn’t want you to grope me!”

Draco gasped, his eyes widened with disbelief and amusement. “There was no groping.”

Ginny nodded. “There was some groping.”

“Okay, maybe there was a little, but you liked it, didn’t you?”

“Well I—” Ginny started getting flustered.

“That’s what I thought. You have a little crush, don’t you?” Draco asked, wanting to play the same game on her as she had on him.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Admit it, Weasley. You like me against your better judgment and you fantasize about doing things to my hot body,” he breathed against her cheek.

Ginny gasped and pushed him away, running down the hall. She cringed as she heard the sound of his laughter following her.

What was she going to do now? She wondered as she continued up the stairs. “Tomorrow will be rather interesting,” she mumbled.

To Be Continued…

[The entire line down the center of his tongue] and then continues to here [against the roof of his mouth.] ~ Entire scene belongs to Sherrilyn Kenyon(Part A)

“What the freaking hell did that bitch do to me?” ~ Glory from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Episode: The Gift (100^th)

“Hands, hands,” ~Willow, from Buffy the Vampire slayer, Episode: Doppelgangland

A few changes have been made…

Chapter Five: Vision of Betrayal

November 10^th

Dear Diary,

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I fall for a guy who barely knows I exist? It’s got to be a genetic…I flirted with Draco, kissed him, and then nothing. He’s completely ignoring me and I don’t understand why. I know I’m not athletic, or beautiful, or anything really. Ordinary describes me pretty well, but—after all I’ve been through, all I’m going to go through, shouldn’t I get a little bit? I can’t help but think that. It’s wrong, I know.

It’s different, what I feel for Draco, than what I felt for Harry. Maybe I’m older, or perhaps it’s because they’re complete opposites. Maybe I’m falling in love with Draco. Then again I thought I’d fallen head over heels for Harry. When I declared I was over him everyone had just assumed it had happened like the snap of two fingers. Only it didn’t, I just realized it was never going to be. I’d come to the terms of being the little sister of The Boy Who Lives best friend. Now, even though it’s slightly off, I’m going through almost the same thing.

If it is love then I hate it. Just feeling this way, like it’s hopeless, like every minute that I don’t see him makes me feel empty, a bottomless pit of nothing. This world is so lonely and love just makes it more so. You always hear those heroic stories of what people will do for love and I ask why? In the end it’s not worth it. Things change and people die. Either that or you get cheated on, or a Quidditch accident…this world is dangerous and I am so afraid, every single day my fear just strangles me, makes me almost sessile. It clouds my sight with the colour of pain—the colour of pain? If it would have a colour it would be red because of what it stands for: passion, love, blood. All of it’s painful and hard. Sure you get that pleasure point in passion, that knee weakening experience for love, and well the blood is what allows the first two to work so well together I suppose. Without it we’d be dead to, that’s a pretty good reason! The ending result is just too severe, it asks too much. Really, the only love worthwhile is the love for friends and family.

Okay, I’m done being the Martyr. I promise. So, this deal with being immortal, well, I still can’t even imagine it, but if it’s true I don’t think I’ll like it. Living forever, seeing your family and friends die, having that knowledge as you watch someone you know be put in the ground that that will never be you, because ‘hey!’ you’re going to live ‘til the end of the world, possibly then some. It’s something that I’d never thought I’d be scared of. It’s kind of ironic if you think about it. Everyone I know is afraid to die, but what I’m frightened of is that I won’t die. Hmm, scary!

I’m getting my blood taken today. I have to go to the infirmary in about ten minutes. Supposedly if I am immortal it’ll have some type of accelerated rejuvenating tissue in it or something. I wasn’t really paying attention. Discussions involving Hermione and Professor Dumbledore, or any teacher for that matter, usually border in the category of ‘so boring they’ll put me in my REM cycle of sleep in the blink of an eye’. Which, doesn’t it usually take around twenty to thirty minutes to get to? I can’t remember. Speaking of sleep, I had a pretty steamy dream of Draco last night. I’d tell you, but dear diary is not an X-rated hard back. Shame.

I’ve noticed that when Draco gets angry he gets this little pouty look in his face and it’s so cute. The thing is, you can tell he’s royally pissed off too. Every time I see it I just want to go up, grab his face, and kiss it off him. And the way he walks…oh, sorry about that wet spot on the page, a little drool there…he has a very muffin-y butt, but muscular at the same time. And he wants people to think he’s this all around hard arse, but he’s gentler with the first and second years, more stern with the third, fourth, and fifth years, and just plan ol’ tough with the sixth and seventh years. No one sees it, because they don’t see. They don’t look deep enough; they judge the title and the cover before they read the pages. I did it, everyone does. It’s only human.

Oh stop me…I don’t need to start rambling or I’ll be late.

One more thing, that vision I had that night at the party, the one I shared with Pansy, well I had it again, the exact same one not but an hour ago. The blood, the smell, that last angry cry—everything the same. I’ve never had the same vision twice. I guess this year is going to be a lot of ‘firsts’.

Seeya!

G.W.

****

Ginny squeaked as the needle pricked her skin and slid down, her stomach feeling queasy while she watched the blood well up into the tiny plastic tube that was about the length of an index finger. She always hated getting her blood taken and it wasn’t because the big rubber band around her upper arm was so tight. It was definitely the needle. There was just something about it, almost as if as soon as it went into her she could feel it pulling the red liquid out of her. And it hurt!

“Alright, that should be enough,” Madam Pomfrey nodded, pulling the needle out and then quickly swabbing the tiny driblet of blood that oozed from the wound.

Ginny snorted. I should hope five tubes is enough.

She rubbed her arm over the place where miniature wound should have been. Even though it had closed up it still stung. Now it was time to wait. Ginny didn’t know if she had the patience for it, even if magic could accelerate the process to figure out if she was an immortal.

“Well…off you go Ms. Weasley. We’ll have the results with in the next five hours or so,” Madam Pomfrey informed as she made a ‘shooing’ motion with her hands.

“Shouldn’t I be happy?”

“Pardon?”

Ginny cleared her throat. “I mean, um, there’s a possibility that I’m going to live forever. Forever! Merlin—I say that and I feel sick to my stomach. So, shouldn’t I be happy?”

“Oh,” Madam Pomfrey paused and started to speak twice before she actually answered. “I can’t tell you what you should feel. Immortality is a very seductive word to many people, but it doesn’t have to be for everyone. Now, off you go.”

Was that supposed to make me feel better? Ginny wondered as she jumped off the bed and walked towards the door. Madam Pomfrey isn’t much for moral support.

**** 1^st hour

“Ginny, this is great! You’re immortal!” Ron cried out, grinning from ear to ear, plopping down at the chair across from her in the Gryffindor common room.

“There’s nothing great about being immortal and besides it isn’t a fact yet. Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Madam Pomfrey are still working on it,” she spoke softly, flipping a page in the Potions book, hiding the fact that she was getting irritated.

“How can you do homework at a time like this? Don’t you get it? Everything is going to be okay now. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore if you are.”

She slammed her Potions book closed. “It’s not okay!” Ginny yelled, and then cleared her throat, bowing her, and lowering her voice as she continued to speak. “It is not okay,” she whispered before lifting her eyes to meet her brothers’. “Ron, I don’t want to be immortal. I couldn’t handle these visions for eternity. You think you took it hard when you realized I could see the future, but you don’t know what it’s like to actually have them. It isn’t easy, never was. There’s just no way I could handle it. I’m not strong enough.”

Ron cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “You’re strong Ginny, you are.”

“But not enough.”

Ron sighed. “I think you’re wrong.”

“Then don’t think. You were never very good at it anyway!”

**** 3^rd hour

“Put the Runes in a cup, shake them, and spill them over the ground—close your eyes and let your hand lead you to the Rune of your future to come?” Ginny spoke allowed, then shrugged. “Okay,” she said, shook the cup then poured the Runes out onto the Gryffindor common room table.

She’d been in the common room for hours and somewhere between then and now Ginny had sauntered upstairs to slip into something more comfortable. It was most likely that she went upstairs to get away from Ron, because when she’d come back down he was gone. What a relief that was! She’d opted for a pair of drawstring, green pyjama pants and an old white, Quidditch shirt with the picture of a snitch on the front, though it wasn’t as if she had many options. It was that or the horribly ugly orange t-shirt Percy had given her. Ron seemed to be keeping better tabs of his shirts since the sleeping potion incident. Pity.

With her leg comfortably folded under her, her hair slung up in a slightly sloppy ponytail, and a few stray strands of hair falling into her face, Ginny could honestly say that she was scared to death. Course, she tried thinking of other things, done quite a few of them, but they hadn’t worked. Practicing Runes with Hermione’s Ancient Runes text seemed to help a bit, but there was still that fear and anxiety doing back flips in her stomach.

She closed her eyes and placed her hand above the stones, concentrating. Moving her hand around in a circle a few seconds before she felt the pull. Ginny hadn’t actually expected to feel anything and was surprised when she felt the almost rectangular shape of the Rune. She opened her eyes and frowned as she stared at the miniature picture that looked like a triangular standing on the side brim of a hat. She skimmed her finger down the book to look for the symbol.

She glanced at the stone again. “That’s weird,” Ginny frowned as she looked back to the book. “It’s not in here. What—”

“Hey Ginny. Have you gotten the test results yet?” Hermione asked galloping down the girls’ dormitory steps in a pair of sandblasted blue jeans and a plain white collared shirt.

She clucked her tongue. If people would just stop asking her maybe she’d stop thinking about it…for a few seconds anyhow. “No, not yet...Hermione, I can’t find this Rune,” Ginny said, holding it up at eye level.

The green, brown speckled Rune looked bright against Ginny’s white, freckled skin. Hermione had chosen to make her stones green and brown because she’d felt drawn to the colors. She’d also told Ginny that her first lesson in Ancient Runes would be to make your own Runes out of clay because they’d be more powerful for the owner. Ginny was looking forward to it.

Hermione took a quick glance at it while still heading towards the door. “Ah, it’s because it’s backwards. Are you coming to Hogsmeade with us? It’ll help pass the time until you get the results.”

“No, I think I’ll just stop by the library or something.”

Hermione sighed and gently smacked her hands against her thighs. “Alright. I’ll see you later. I’ll bring you back some chocolate!”

Ginny perked up as the last word Hermione said sunk in. She lifted her eyes only to see Hermione walking towards the door. “Get the frogs!! Get the frogs!”

Hermione flipped her hand in the air. “I know!”

When the door closed Ginny dimly heard the Fat Lady speaking to Hermione as she glanced back towards the book. “Backwards…hmm—” she paused as she found the correct Rune.

Thurisaz when seen backwards: danger, defenselessness, compulsion, betrayal, dullness, evil, malice, hatred, torment, spite, and lies.

Ginny frowned and dug her teeth into her bottom lip. “Well that can’t be good.”

**** 5^th hour

“Thank you for coming so quickly.”

Ginny nodded, smoothing the back of her shirt as she sat down directly in front of Professor Dumbledore.

She couldn’t breath. Her chest hurt from the effort as she was desperately trying to force the air to her lungs. The message had come a little earlier than expected. This type of news wasn’t something someone received every day. The only immortal person she’d ever heard of was Nicholas Flemmal and he’d been all too happy destroy the stone that made him that way.

No one was meant to be immortal, so why was this happening to her?

“We’ve gotten the results and it shows that you are NOT immortal,” Professor Dumbledore smiled at her from across his desk, his hands forming a steeple.

The air crashed into her lungs and Ginny gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh Merlin, thank you.” She felt hot tears streaming down her face.

It’s kind of weird being happy to know that someday I’ll die, like everyone else. At least I’m not a complete freak.

“There is a problem though.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow, the wetness clinging to her eyelashes. “Huh?”

Dumbledore gave her a grim look. “You have what is called ‘soul baggage’.”

This time both of Ginny’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“You’re an old soul. Ms. Weasley, do you believe in reincarnation?”

She blinked. “Well I-well I don’t know I mean it’s not exactly something I think about on a daily basis,” she spoke without pause. “How much of an old soul am I? Like two hundred lives?”

“A lot more actually. I have a hunch, that with your latest vision of the Egyptian-well, there is a possibility that that girl is you.”

“So I—” Ginny paused and snorted, “wait, wait are you saying that if the girl is who I really think she is and if I’m the reincarnation of her then I’m-then I’m an Egyptian Princess?”

Dumbledore nodded. “Possibly, however when you mentioned something about colors on your face when you looked in the mirror, well those are colors of warriors who protected the princess.”

“That’s funny, I never heard about that when I was reading--”

“No, no, you wouldn’t because they were witches and wizards who were very powerful, powerful enough to keep themselves hidden or they would change their appearance so that they would blend in. They could have been maids, soldiers of pharaohs, a slave, a pet, or a relative. Only the princess that they were assigned to ever saw their colors. If by chance they had been seen it would have been a muggle who just thought nothing of it but a man in color.”

“So I was a protector?”

Dumbledore frowned and reached for a lemon drop. He lifted the candy dish, offering one to her. Ginny took one, knowing full well what kind of candies they were. The minute she put the lemony sweet into her mouth she felt calmness take over.

“I’m not certain. It’s possible that as a princess you were rather a-how shall I say this… rebellious and wanted to fight for yourself. It would explain your strength and your stubbornness as your brother informed me not but two minutes before I spoke with you,” Dumbledore smiled, the sparks in his blue eyes twinkling like they always did—like he knew something that she would know one day.

“So he knows then? That I’m an old soul with visions?” Ginny paused and shook her head. “Just when I thought I wouldn’t become anymore of a freak…”

“He knows, as do your parents.”

“Why am I being reincarnated?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Sometimes it’s because of a tragic ending to ones life that needs to be fixed before moving on, sometimes it’s because of a love that was never quite enough.”

Ginny groaned. “Of course it couldn’t be a happy reason. Am I doomed for pain and suffering?”

Dumbledore bowed his head. “Yes actually. I’m afraid you are. Until you find out what happened in your first life and do something different in this life to change the course of it. There’s a slim possibility that you’ve had so many lives because you had a happy one as an Egyptian.”

Ginny clenched her jaw and her hands tightened into fists. “Gees, now I know why I’m attracted to people who tend to be trouble, two of a kind. What do I do now?”

“I’m afraid that’s up to you.”

“These visions are killing me and you’re telling me that I have them, this life, because of something that happened, something I don’t even remember doing, in a past life. I’m doomed to repeat a repetitive life, a life with same beginning, the same middle, and the same end. Pft, well, I wish it would come sooner rather than later. I’m tired of people looking at me and talking behind their hands about me. I wish it could just have stayed a secret…I think I wish I had died that day,” Ginny whispered last part. “Hermione wrote something on Harry’s notebook, he says he reads it whenever he feels like he’ll lose—” Ginny paused and glanced at Dumbledore, both knowing what she was talking about. “It says ‘the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave live…for your parents’.

The tears were falling freely down her face as she continued to talk.

“I used to think it helped me get through the days, but I’m so tired. This world is too hard to live in for one person, but it’s even harder for someone to live in when you don’t only have to deal with your own pain, but everyone that you see in visions. If there’s blood I can feel the wet coppery taste in my mouth, I can feel their fear and hopelessness, and it’s overpowering. Their screams of pain are deafening and every time I get lost in them. I feel like I’m drowning, kicking and screaming to get to the surface, but I won’t,” Ginny stopped suddenly as she remembered what had happened in the dungeons last night with Draco and smiled. “Then I remember D-the really good things and I’m barely able to make it, but I do. So I form gills so I can breathe just enough to live, but I’m very tired.”

Ginny sniffled and wiped her tears up. “I feel like I haven’t slept in years, like I’m half a dead cell, trying too hard to wake up so I can be happy…Professor I’m sorry, I tend to get a little talkative. I’ve been doing the ‘poor’ me speeches a lot actually, I know other people have it worse.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s good for you to talk about it,” he smiled softly.

“I feel guilty. I’m crying like a baby because I see things, but there are people out there that it’s happening to. People like Harry and Dra-Malfoy and I feel stupid. I just want to be a normal person. I want boyfriend! Is there a way that I can stop it?”

Professore Dumbledore nodded, his cheeks slightly red, but clearly glad the she’d stopped at ‘boyfriend’. “There are two possibilities, the first one is to take a potion, binding your powers.”

“A binding potion? Like the potion I was making for Professor Snape?”

“That potion exactly. He was having you make them for the Hogwarts perimeter burying three bottles at the four corners of the school. It’s a temporary binding potion when it’s not mixing with your blood. It will make enemies powerless for up to five hours. If you were to drink it however—”

“So I’d be a squib? No! I was a born magical there’s no way…it would be like ripping my soul into two, I’d be worse off than I am now.”

“There is a chance you’d still have some powers. It could take away your visions—”

“So there’s the gift and punishment. It’ll take away my visions, but there’s a chance it’ll strip me of my powers. Why can’t decision ever be simple?” Ginny wondered aloud.

“Miss Weasley, your visions could be the difference from why you failed so often in your other lives. I urge you to think about your decision. Understand that you were given them for a reason. If you hadn’t been given them, your brother would be dead, would he not?”

Ginny felt the sting of tears well up over her dry eyes as the truth of what Dumbledore said sunk in. She was scared, because she wasn’t sure if the tears from relief or sadness. “So then the binding potion is out,” she whispered

“I’m very glad you said that. If you were to take the potion there would have also been a chance you’d go insane.”

Ginny snorted and then sniffled. “It probably would have saved some time if you’d told me that first Professor.”

“Yes well---option two is to find out what happened. Find it out before it’s too late and change it.”

“That’ll take some time won’t it?” Ginny whispered, bowing her head and eyeing the floor.

“You can drop out of your extra class if you like,” he said sounding somewhat disappointed.

“No, I think I’ll be able to handle it. The runes could somehow help I think.”

“I agree,” he said the twinkle of happiness and knowing returning to his eyes.

******

“Please let him be here,” Ginny whispered as she opened the library doors.

Draco would always be in either the Library or somewhere in the dungeons, unless he had Head Boy duties. The Library because his father expected him to beat Hermione in every class, which he was pretty close to doing, but it had almost seemed as if Hermione had been slacking off the last two years.

Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted him, sitting at a table with his face in a book. She had absolutely no clue what she’d say to him considering how he was ignoring her, or avoiding her, or both.

“He is so gorgeous,” she whispered, biting her lip as she slowly started stepping closer.

A few more steps and Ginny was standing next to him looking down at the crown of his head.

Gees, his hair really is perfect, Ginny thought smiling gently.

“Weasley there better be a good reason why you’re so close to me,” he spoke softly into his book.

“Well I-” Ginny started, then tucked her hair behind her ears, walked around him, and pulled out a chair to sit next to him.

“Well what?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse.

“I-” Ginny stopped and looked down at the table, her face hot with embarrassment.

What was she supposed to say? I want you to kiss me again, I want you to grab my—that might actually work!

“I want you to kiss me again,” she whispered, “and I want you to—”

It seemed that Draco had finally forgotten about his book and was staring intently at Ginny. “No,” he said.

Ginny blinked and a tiny gasp escaped her lips. “What?”

“Maybe you should clean your ears out. I said no Weasley.”

“What?” Ginny asked in shock then quickly shook her head. “I mean didn’t you feel anything when we—”

Draco smirked and rested his head back against his shoulders in exasperation. “Of course I did. I’m not a board.”

Ginny gnawed her bottom lip, her thoughts nearly taking her away. “But then why—”

“If we did do anything it would be a one or two time thing and I’m not much for waiting. I don’t want to date you, I’d love to have sex with you, but the truth of it is, you aren’t ready. I can tell by looking at you and it could have something to do with your reaction to my grabbing your arse the other night.”

Ginny swallowed. What did you expect from Draco Malfoy? The knight in shining armor doesn’t apply. “You wouldn’t even want to try?”

“Weasley it wouldn’t do any good to try. I don’t want to waste my time, you shouldn’t either,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

“I’m a waste of time?” Ginny asked trying to keep her lower lip from trembling.

“No, the situation would be.”

“We can avoid that specific situation and get another one,” she said giving a tiny laugh.

Draco raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “You are an odd bird, have I told you that?”

Ginny nodded.

Draco sighed and slowly stood up. “See you Weasley.”

Ginny sat there for about two minutes until she jolted to a standing position. “What just happened?” she whispered as she quickly walked out of the library in search of Draco.

The first thing she saw was his backside. Ginny gave a low whistle of appreciation, apparently however it was louder than she anticipated because Draco turned.

“You know, if I were to do that to a girl I’d get accused of being a pig,” Draco commented, casually folding his arms across his chest.

Ginny walked towards him, until they were so close she could barely keep her knees from turning to jelly. She reached, pulling his head towards her and kissed him.

November 10^{th, 10:30 pm}

Dear Diary,

My dear, dear diary, I am most definitely cursed. It’s not because Draco doesn’t want me, but because I kissed him for the last time. What I wanted was the mind blowing, knee melting kiss I’d gotten the last time, but what I got was a bloody vision…no really it was bloody. It was all of the place and a person standing over them. How many times will I have this vision? I’d kept asking myself over and over again, but then I remembered that this one was different because I saw him. I saw Draco with black hair, covered in blood, starring down at an Egyptian girl who was holdingNeferneferure’s hand.

He had killed us. He’s the reason I’m cursed to repeat everything and I still love him, knowing that it was him. I guess history really is doomed repeat itself.

On a partially good note…it seems the princess had a pet Gazelle or at least that’s what the drawings indicate.

G.W.

To Be Continued…

I know I’m kind of messing with the Egyptian time line and I’m sorry about that, but it’s the only way for the story to go. Sorry it took so long for me to update.

“No one should ever hold beliefs, they should have ideas because at least those are open to change.” ~ I can’t remember where I got this from…if anyone knows please tell me

Sorry about any mistakes and lack of chapter plot a head of time!

Only one more chapter to go after this one!!!!

Chapter Six: Déjà Vu

Ginny cocked her head to the side, placed her hands to her cheeks, and pushed up. It was seven-thirty in the morning, and she’d woken up with a very strange feeling. So she did what she always did when she felt funny, she sat at her nightstand, in front of her mirror, contemplating.

Perhaps it was because she’d decided what she would do with Draco or maybe it was just her last vision.

Draco…

She wanted him; it was as simple as that. Just once. Ginny had come to the decision that ‘it’, would be tonight at eight o’clock. If it killed her, she’d spend all day, trying to get up the guts to do it.

She didn’t care about the vision. Yet it was all her mind was on. If she was old soul, doomed to repeat her first life, then how could someone she loved be the doing of all this death? It made her wonder sometimes, why couldn’t her life be more like the wind: swift, flighty, stopping to enjoy the moments that are worthwhile, and skipping all the rest.

Why did life have to get in the way? Why did it have to make everything so hopeless—worthless?

“I hate this world. It is cold and cruel, but nothing would change if I just killed myself, so I’m going to enjoy what I have,” Ginny whispered, her eyes searching her face in the mirror as she convinced her self once more that what she was doing would be worth it.

Her depression was becoming too much, so she had needed to start a mantra, which seemed to be working for the most part. Of course it did help that she’d performed a ‘happy spell’ on herself.

Ginny bit her lip, nervousness settling in. It was almost time for her to go find Draco. She’d made sure he didn’t have anything to do; she just hoped she could catch him before he went into the Slytherin’s common room.

The only preparation Ginny had done for her plans was to wear her new green under garments that Hermione had purchased for her as a back to school present. It seemed during the Hogsmeade trip Ginny had opted out on Hermione had gone shopping in a muggle store and gone directly to the lingerie. Hermione had informed Ginny; after she’d purchased it that it would have either been black or green because of Ginny’s complexion. Hermione had picked what she’d called an under wired, stretch lace, babydoll with matching silk knickers. It had been slightly uncomfortable at first, the under wire being directly under her breasts and all.

“Oh Ginny, you’re magnificent. You must look at yourself,” Hermione exclaimed, giddily.

Ginny frowned and walked to the mirror, continually adjusted the upper half of the clothing. At first she didn’t recognize the young woman in the mirror because she actually looked feminine, pretty even, like she actually had some curves too. It made her breasts look fuller, her waist tiny, and her legs slender yet muscular at the same time. Of course it was nothing like the body of the model on the advertisement picture, but for Ginny was enough.

“I had to get it. When I saw it, it just seemed to scream at me to get it for you. Call it a late back to school gift.”

“How did you know my size?” Ginny whispered, still not having taken her eyes away from the mirror.

“Ginny how long have we known each other? How many times have we had to share a room? How many times have we gotten our clothes mixed up with the laundry? I’m not a genius for nothing you know,” Hermione chuckled.

Ginny snorted. “You are so full of it,” she teased.

Hermione wiggled her nose. “I know.”

Ginny gave her a quick, but tight hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, her voice softening.

So now, she was wearing it for the first time, with only a buttoned up cloak covering it. Her hair she’d pulled up in a ponytail, not wanting it to be in her way when she went to him. She had a tendency to hide behind her hair and it was something she just couldn’t do.

Ginny gently applied an almost clear, orange tinted, Mango flavored lip-gloss. “Okay, no backing out now,” she whispered to image.

*****

Ginny glared as she stomped down the hallway. She’d made herself angry with her thoughts and reasons of why she shouldn’t be doing this. At this point she didn’t care. Let history repeat itself, she thought, giving a silent warrior cry to follow. She grinded her teeth, and clenched her hands together as she saw him strutting down the hall, his back to her.

It seemed it was just seconds and she was behind him, his gentle smelling cologne lingering slightly behind him. She didn’t think, she just acted, which never ended well for Ginny.

Reaching her arm out, she slid her hand into his, lacing their fingers together, gently pulling him around.

“Weasley, have you gone mad?” he demanded.

But she didn’t answer as she pulled him into her arms, kissing him; with all the passion she could muster.

She couldn’t remember the time she’d ever felt like this. It was magic, what his lips, what his kisses could do to her. It had more spark than any type of spell she’d ever done, more than anything she’d ever felt. It was beyond magic.

Ginny closed her eyes, preparing herself as she gave one last lick to his tongue before pulling away. Then she slowly opened her eyes. “I-I love you Draco.”

His eyes widened with surprise, clearly stating that that had not been what he’d expected. Then the look quickly swept away, his teeth gritting with irritation. “I’m sorry, but you can’t. No,” he said as if it were an after thought, “I don’t want you to love me. I can’t be with you Ginny, why can’t you understand that? My father is—”

Ginny frowned. He’d accepted what she’d said so easily, as if he knew it had been coming.

Leaning forward, she clasped his hands tighter into hers so that he wouldn’t pull away, “People don’t love because they want to, they do it because they simply can’t help it. There’s always a danger in loving someone too much and the fact that your father is Lucius Malfoy means no never mind to me. It’s always something,” Ginny whispered against his cheek, her neck resting against the side of his mouth. “I’m not asking for you to be with me forever, I just want you to let me love you for the moments I can have.”

“I thought you said you can’t help loving someone, so why do you need my permission, no matter how against it I am?”

She gently kissed an obviously sensitive spot beneath his earlobe, smiling as she felt him shiver. “You can’t, but if the love isn’t wanted it can be an extremely difficult task.” Ginny stopped speaking; gently nudging the side of his face like a tiny kitten would when looking for comfort, and leaned to whisper in his ear, her hands gripping his tightly. “Let me love you. Let me love you like I want to love you, like you deserved to be loved.”

Ginny pulled back a little, disengaging her hands from his to wrap her arms tightly around his midriff. She heard and felt him sigh heavily, sounding highly defeated, his arms dangling at his side, not returning her affection.

Oh how she wanted to look at him, to see the emotions that were hopefully forming in his seductive gray eyes. Doing this felt so natural, like they were meant too. If she was going to be honest it almost felt like déjà vu.

“I’m still overcome by how much I love you,” Ginny paused, noticing him flinch at her words. “When I figured it out I cried because of how swift the realization was. It amazed me how much you’d captured my heart. It’s just a little sad when I know it’s your heart I can’t ever touch because of who you are, who your family is. It’s a little defeating sometimes. I’ve tried so hard to stop it, wishing that there was a button that would just stop my heart from pounding so hard in my chest that it might burst every time I come near you, every time you look at me.”

“You aren’t made for the life your father has committed you to. You don’t deserve to be treated so poorly, to bow at someone’s feet? Draco Malfoy? Never! You’re a good man Draco and your mother and father haven’t a clue how lucky they are to call you their own. If you were mine and you loved me, I’d take that love—assuming it had a solid form of course—and lock it up. I’d never give it back. ”

“That was kind of unnerving,” he muttered softly, then dropped his chin against her shoulder. “Ginny, if we were to have a relationship it wouldn’t be conventional. I don’t want to use you, I respect you too much for that,” he paused and Ginny could almost feel his smirk.

“Never thought you’d say that to a Weasley huh?” she smiled half heartedly, though it didn’t quite reach her saddened eyes.

“You read my thoughts.”

“I do that often.”

Draco chuckled, his arms going to rest against her hips. “I’ve noticed. I think I know why Potter was so uneasy around you.”

“What?”

“Is this how you declared you loved him?”

Ginny pulled away, her arms still wrapped around his waist. She frowned at him, his eyes filled with amusement. “What I had for Harry wasn’t love. Sure it was to much to be a crush, it just wasn’t enough to be love,” she laughed a little, “I’d say it was infatuation.”

Ginny nibbled her bottom lip in thought, trying to find a way to explain her feelings to him. “Draco, it feels natural to talk to me, to be with me doesn’t it?”

Ginny stared at him as his eyes flashed from gray to silver as they always did when he was thinking intently on a matter. “Nothing I do with you is natural.”

“Oh,” she whispered, dropping her eyes.

She felt him sigh and pull away, her heart hurting too much for her to stop his movement. What surprised her however was the feel of his fingers lacing with hers, pulling her towards the direction he’d been going.

****

“You have your own room,” Ginny spoke softly, looking around noticing the bed right away.

It was huge with dark green cover and sheets. It was way bigger than any of the regular beds. The room was definitely darker than she’d expected, but of course green was one of the main house colors for him and he had a lot of black clothes.

He glanced up from his task of emptying his pockets, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, of course.”

Ginny bit back a smile. He’d said it as if it had been the most natural thing in the world.

“Now,” he started, elegantly leaning against his mahogany desk.

“Now we have sex?” Ginny blurted out.

The minute she did she wanted to go drown herself in the lake. What had she been thinking?

She held in a groan as she watched Draco’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “Ginny, I didn’t bring you up here to have sex,” he chuckled, his face still a pinkish color.

“Oh,” she whispered. “I was kind of hoping that was the reason though,” she informed.

Her face burned with embarrassment as she watched his eyes widen slightly. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I did a spell to make me happier and more easy going, but I think it just skipped to me being loose.”

Ginny’s breath caught as a smile broke out on his face.

“Nervous about it huh?” he grinned.

“Well obviously,” she cried out, reaching her hand up to pull her ponytail out.

She then started on the buttons of her cloak, quickly slipping her arms out of the sleeves and throwing it on to bed.

“I went to great lengths to be ready for you, to make you want me—” she paused and looked at his face.

She watched his Adam’s apple role up and down as he swallowed, his eyes greedily taking in her appearance.

“Wow, Weasley, you—wow,” he breathed.

“Would you just stick with Ginny, because I definitely don’t want you calling out Weasley when you’re-when we’re—it would remind me of one of my brothers.”

Her gut clenched as she watched his tongue slip out and lick his lips, his arms casually folded over his chest, making him look only slightly ruffled. She jumped when he moved, one of his hands reaching to the cuff of his arm on his white school tuxedo shirt. He slipped the button out, and then went to perform the same task on his other sleeve.

Ginny wanted to feel a lot more awkward and exposed, like she would normally feel if she hadn’t did this blasted spell. She should have known it would backfire some how. She gulped as she watched his hands unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt. Ginny was only slightly relieved when he only undid four.

He walked towards her, stopping only a foot away from her. “Are you sure about this Wea-Ginny?”

“Y-yes.”

“Be sure, because I won’t let you back out later. I’m not one for a tease,” he informed her. “I won’t—”

Ginny raised her hands to his chest, continuing to unbutton his shirt. “I’m sure Draco. I’ve dreamed of this.”

He grabbed her hands, stopping her on the last button, “It’s not going to be some girlish dream. It won’t be a fantasy. It’ll be painful and permanent. You can never get it back.”

She knew what he spoke of; he was being, in his slightly warped mind, gallant. She leaned forward a kissed him full on the mouth. “I don’t have girlish dreams,” she smiled. “I never did,” she added as she pulled his shirt off, and then went for the front of his black slacks.

He grunted as her fingers faltered.

“Sorry, it’s my first time,” she joked, lifting her head up to smile at him.

But he didn’t smile back; instead his gaze was intense, never leaving hers as he lifted a hand up to run her through her already disheveled hair. “You are so strange,” he whispered, before cupping his hand behind her head and pulling her to him.

She didn’t know how they got to the bed, or how Draco got on top of her, but she knew she loved the weight of him on her.

Ginny shivered as she felt his hand slid up her waist, then to her breast cupping it through the green lace that still covered her body. His pants were still on, but unbuttoned, letting her feel the more heat between her thighs.

His kisses were sensual and intoxicating. He would pull away slightly, teasing her, making her seek out for more kisses. Ginny grunted as he dropped his head to her breast and began sucking her nipple through the lace cloth.

Chills broke out over her body, her mouth dropped, her head pushing back into the Egyptian cotton pillow covering. Her arms stayed tight to her side, her fists clutching the sheet. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she left them to their business in the covers.

“Ginny,” Draco breathed against her wet, clothed nipple.

“Mm,” she groaned, not really hearing him.

“I’m going to take this off of you now,” he said pulling the upper have of her body up, supporting her weight with one arm, as he reached for the hem, which stopped at the very top of her thighs. Ginny shivered at the feel of his fingers against her over heated flesh.

If he would just move up a little he would be brushing his hand between her legs. Oh how she wanted that.

Ginny bit her lip as she felt the material slide up and go quickly over her head. Draco laid her back onto the cool sheets of the bed and with her knickers still on spread her thighs so that he could lay between them.

Her eyes widened as she felt his naked hips go between her thighs, not knowing when he’d taken his pants off. He groaned so softly Ginny hadn’t thought she’d heard it at first as their bare chests pushed together. She felt him move slightly and then slammed her eyelids shut as she felt his hand slide into her last stitch of clothing.

“We’ll leave your knickers on for a little bit, yeah?” he spoke breathlessly.

She nodded, her hands itching to cover up her face so he wouldn’t see her expressions. “What are you doing?” she gasped as she felt him spread her lips and insert a finger into her.

He licked her neck. “I’m letting get adjusted to the feeling of something inside. It prepares you a little and even better, it feels good.”

“Yes,” she breathed, slightly embarrassed when her hips started to move with his thrusting finger.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered in her ear and then gently sucked on her earlobe.

Her heart did a flip-flop, not completely sure if it was from what he said or from the sucking.

“What can I do with my hands?” Ginny asked, a little to loudly.

“You can touch yourself with me, or wrap your arms around my neck,” he said between kissing her neck.

She knew she wouldn’t do the first, even with the spell she wasn’t completely comfortable yet, so she opted for the second. Besides, she loved touching him.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders and she cringed when she felt another finger go into her. It was extremely awkward, almost uncomfortable at first, but the sound of the gushing movement made her enjoy it more, especially when the strange feeling was replaced with pleasure.

“Ah,” Draco grunted, pulling slightly away from her digging fingernails. “Sharp nails,” he told her, grinning down.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t have to be sorry,” he whispered, his breathing only slightly irregular.

It was then that she felt her knickers slide down her thighs, past her knees, over her feet. No barriers.

He pushed her knees up, so that her feet were set firmly on the bed. He brought her arms to their sides, placing her hands on his lower back. She felt him slowly lift up, watching his arm slip between them. She could feel movement and shivered when she felt something brush against her.

Draco pushed the tip of his cock slightly into her, and then paused. “I almost forgot,” he said reaching across her, slightly jarring their comfortable position. She watched him, never taking her eyes away from his movements, take out a wand, hold it over her stomach and whisper something she couldn’t hear. “Contraception spell,” he told her.

“Draco wait a second,” she mumbled.

She thought she heard him growl slightly. “I told you-”

“Oh it’s not that, I just want to make sure that before we claim this never happened, I want to be on top one of these times.”

He snorted, hard. Something Ginny had thought unbecoming of Draco Malfoy. “Oh you would!” he accused, smiling widely.

“Just so we’re clear,” she said, sounding like a young teacher.

He gazed into her eyes and then swiftly pushed forward. “Ginny relax,” he grunted. “Merlin you’re tight, stop clenching like that or this will be over before it starts,” he growled out before biting his lip.

Within seconds he was fully inside her and it burned, it hurt more than she’d expected. She felt her eyes burn from the tears, trying desperately not to let them fall.

“Gin-” he started panting.

“I’m not a baby,” she argued.

“I didn’t say you were,” he sighed, withdrawing from her a little.

Ginny had never acted this way before, spell or not. She didn’t know what had come over her.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave,” she said, slightly panicked.

He stopped, frowned, and then glanced down at her. “Are you crazy? Of course I’m not leaving,” he said clucking his tongue and then pushing almost roughly forward.

She hiccupped a gasp as the burning pain intensified. Ginny gritted her teeth as he repeated the tiny movement and she could no longer hold the tears in. She turned her face to the side, trying to hide in the pillow. Ginny had heard stories of how girls crying tended to turn a guy off. She wanted Draco get pleasure out of this, even if she didn’t. She would in the next time and knowing that was enough.

Just then, as if it had been the most natural thing in the world, the pain went almost completely away.

Ginny sucked in her breath, which caused Draco to glance at her, a small smile on his face.

“Feel better?” he asked softly in her ear.

She nodded her head and then closed her eyes, her mouth opening in a silent gasp. Ginny instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he continued thrusting, and placed her hands on his arse, beneath her ankles, pushing him to go a little faster.

Draco hissed and Ginny knew it was because of her movements. It had caused a different angle that could only be described as amazing. “Oh yes,” he ground out, his teeth biting into her shoulder as his movements went faster.

And she felt it…something she didn’t want to feel happening. “Oh no, not please not now,” she moaned, her hips started to push up to meet his.

“What?” he grunted.

A vision, how could this happen now? she thought wildly.

“A vision,” she gasped, her back arching off the bed so swiftly that Draco cried out.

She was dimly aware of something shooting into her before she was lost in her vision.

Ginny glanced up at Nefernefrure, confused. Am I sitting down? she thought to herself, cocking her head to the side.

Ginny looked down and saw fur.

What the…

It was then that Ginny felt it, a fear, a danger…something was wrong. Her ears perked as she took an alert stance, then bounded in front of the princess.

Ginny never saw it coming, the knife that slit her furry belly, as she collapsed to the ground, changing into a girl. Ginny glanced up and stared at the man she loved.

Then Ginny was pulled away from the dying girl and saw her whisper something in Egyptian, something that sounded very familiar. She saw the hurt in the girls face, the betrayal as she looked up at the man that resembled Draco so much. Ginny watched as another girl, exotically gorgeous walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him.

The new girl, with black hair, black eyes, and golden skin, sneered down at the girl who had just minutes ago been a gazelle and she spoke to her.

Ginny knew these words. She’d been horribly betrayed. Ginny felt her heart aching for the girl. She couldn’t imagine dying, by the hands of her lover, and then seeing that he’d cheated on her at the same time.

Who was this poor girl?

With a snap of a finger Ginny was back. She blinked her eyes, starring up at Draco, who was still inside of her, on top of her panting.

“A vision, huh?”

Ginny nodded, slightly confused, adjusting to her surroundings.

“What did you see?” he asked, petting her hair out of her face.

“A gazelle,” she said, coming back to her sense. She smiled up at him. “It was a nice vision,” she lied.

“That’s good,” he whispered, “I suppose you don’t get much of those.”

She shook her head. “I think it was because of you, by being with me.”

He grinned smugly. “Damn, I’m good.”

“Yes you are,” she chuckled, half-heartedly.

There was no way she’d tell him what she really saw, when she should have been filled with pleasure, she’d only saw and felt pain.

“So now can I be on top?” she asked casually.

“You little minx, you vision didn’t take nothing but a minute. Give me a few seconds to breath.”

She lifted her hand up to his face, smiling at the look of ease on his face. She didn’t want this night to end. The vision aside it had been perfect.

To Be Continued…

I know, I know…wasn’t exactly the best sex scene, but I wanted the vision to happen while they were doing it. Sorry for the mistakes and the kind of dry chapter, hopefully you all liked it.

I appreciate everyone’s feedback about my first note in my last chapter. I thought I had made it clear though that it wasn’t the other stuff, that it was mainly me and my disinterest for writing that’s currently happening. The other stuff only helped a little and I still haven’t completely made my decision…obviously since I’ve written this. I haven’t been able to tell if it was from not wanting to disappoint everyone who actually reads my stories, or because I spoke too soon and just needed to wait for the block to go away.

Anyhow, I hope you all enjoyed it! Reviews are muchly appreciated! ~Aya

Warning: If you don’t like abrupt, speedy, poorly written, past Mary-sue-ish, and clichéd chapters, stop right now, and pretend the story was finished at chapter six. The only reason I’m putting this out is so people will know a few things that had made me believe (before I started writing this story) that it wouldn’t turn Mary-sue, but this chapter proves the fact that it did. So, you’ve been warned, harshly! As of now I am planning on writing Egyptian Earth (Harry + Hermione)

The title of this chapter is by Sherrilyn Kenyon!

Chapter Seven: In your past lies your future…

It had been about a month since Ginny had first been with Draco and it wasn’t what she’d expected. What she got instead of a one nightstand and meanness to follow was frequent secret meetings and long hours in Draco’s room. He seemed different some how, nice even.

…And it wasn’t just about the sex, even though it was absolutely amazing, there would be some nights when they’d just study together. One night Draco had actually asked her to read to him. That had been the best night of her life. They had just lain in his big soft bed, while he held her hand or played with her hair.

Ginny could have actually almost called them a couple. Until she said she loved him and then gently kissed his lips. It was as if she could see everything spiraling out of control before her eyes from then on. He stopped catching her eye in the hallways before class, he stopped his cute lopsided-grins that made her insides turn to jell-o, then he eventually stopped kissing her, then he stopped talking to her. It was going on three weeks today. The day Draco had stopped talking to her. It was three weeks ago. Three weeks of not hearing his voice. She could hardly believe it, bear it.

What had her life been like without him?

She knew what she sounded like, she’d spent a good portion of her time hating clinging-I-can’t-live-without-you girl types, but now…now she understood. The need to be with the one you love was suffocating when you couldn’t be with them.

She held her tears back. It had been the longest three weeks of her life. Her brother had found out that they’d been intimate, which didn’t prove well with the family. She should have known he would have mailed a letter to mum. She got banned from four Quidditch matches for cursing out Madam Hooch on, what Ginny had assumed to be a ‘lousy call’. She found a book, which pretty much said the girl in her vision could not have been the Princess Nefernefrure, which was actually old news, but reading it another thousandth time just made her even crankier. …And, what hurt the most was Draco seemed to be allowing Pansy to hang all over him, again, and blatantly in front of her. Ginny had even seen them snogging in a corner near Hogsmeade. Ginny could have sworn she’d died that day.

And it was just a few days after that actually, that Draco had the gall to pull her into the empty Transfigurations classroom.

_______________

“Ginny—I have to talk to you,” Draco growled softly in her ear, clutching her arm, and pulling her into the empty classroom.

“Let go of me this instant,” Ginny growled. “You’ve no right to touch me.”

“Actually, I have every right, but we aren’t going to get into that right now!”

Ginny snorted in disbelief. “Where do you get off telling me-?”

“There are three death eaters in the school…Poly-juiced as students. They’re after the reincarnated Egyptian Princess. She’s you right? It’s why-it’s why I’ve been staying away from you.”

“Here I thought it was because you’re a man who doesn’t like it when a girl says she loves him. And I-I don’t know if I’m the princess. How does-”

“An archeologist, who happened to be a follower of yours truly, came upon a prophecy…”

Ginny rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. “Right, because you know, there’s always a damn prophecy.”

Draco shook her slightly. “That’s not the point! I don’t know whom the death eaters are posing as. More importantly, they plan on killing you.”

“Me?” Ginny whispered.

She frowned, searching his face. It wasn’t as if she’d be able to tell if he were lying or not.

“That’s why I need to know if you’re the princess.”

Ginny folded her arms in front of her. “I don’t know! How exactly will they know?”

“They have this potion that when poured on the skin it will turn green. The color of the element the princess yields—Earth.”

Ginny blinked, shook her head. “Well then, that can’t be right.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, his hands still unknowing caressing her arms, causing Ginny to shiver slightly. “What?”

“My working element is fire!”

Draco exhaled and did something Ginny hadn’t expected of him. He dropped his forehead to hers and smiled a very genuine smile. “Thank-”

“Well that just means that it isn’t me. Someone else is in danger!”

Draco stared at her, his fingers entangling her hair, holding her in place. “It isn’t you, so who cares. I wasn’t going to tell you, I was actually just going to steal you away, until I found out it was going to happen today. Don’t worry about it. Who cares?”

“I do! I’m her protector.”

“You don’t even know who you’re supposed to protect! You don’t even know if you’re really her protector!” he hissed angrily.

Ginny shook her head. “No, no I do. I know. Oh Merlin,” her eyes widened, “I know who it is!”

______________________________________________

“Get the Mudblood,” a rancid scream echoed through the hall.

Ginny froze as a tiny gasp escaped her lips. She had barely stepped out of the empty Transfiguration classroom before she heard that evil shriek. And she moved, as if on instinct, running towards them until she saw the curly brown haired girl clawing at her captor. Ginny stopped in her tracks feeling anger so fierce that it almost took her breath away. Her left arm went in front of her face, her right behind her back, and her legs braced horizontally apart. It was then that she felt the cool metal of something very solid and heavy in her right hand. The skin of the arm in front of her line of vision turned gold, the red pieces of her hair that had been resting down her shoulders turned completely black as if ink had been poured into her hair, her school uniform changed, and along the parts of golden skin she could she were intricate black lines and hieroglyphics tattooed to her body.

My entire body is a gold color—what the hell is going on?

Her garments consisted of a tiny slip of a brown, slightly itchy, cover up, which wrapped around her hips, and was so incredibly short that Ginny knew all to well that if she were to bend over, all of Hogwarts, or at least the few people around, would get a view of her unmentionables. Her top wasn’t as bad as the cover up for her bottom half. It was in a bikini style that was so tan it almost looked see through.

“What the hell is that?” A death eater cried.

It was then Ginny caught a glimpse of herself in the tiny knife that had just appeared in her left hand. It was like her vision—her eyes were completely black, her face colored with gold, black, and indigo colors—her hair entirely black. “What’s happened to me?” Ginny whispered just as her mind blanked.

****

It was as if the air had changed around all of them. It was so thick it seemed electric.

“G-Ginny?” Hermione whispered at the girl who’d just magically changed her appearance in front of her.

Ginny’s stance was a warrior stance. Hermione had done extensive research on Jujitsu, Judo and the like, but she looked like she was an Egyptian warrior the way she was dressed.

Ginny turned her head to gaze at Hermione and she flinched at what she saw on Ginny’s face. “I will protect you my princess,” Ginny commanded softly, her voice lilting with a completely different, deeper accent, her black eyes staring directly at Hermione.

An Egyptian accent possibly?

It was then that the second of the death eaters attacked. Ginny’s right arm, which had been posed behind her back, flipped forward, a spear appearing form black smoke in her hand. She leapt forward with a grace that would have surprised anyone, and landed the unlucky death eater a blow to the face. A loud crack echoing through the air caused Hermione to flinch in disgust. Ginny then did what looked like a roundhouse kick toward the next death eater that had launched himself towards Hermione.

It was as if Ginny had been born a fighter, as if she lived and breathed the fight. She was moving so quickly Hermione could barely make out her moves. When one of the death eaters got lucky and knocked Ginny’s weapons out of her hand she stopped, turning her head eerily to the side staring him down.

Hermione yelped as another death eater came towards her. The first two had been distracting Ginny so that they could get Hermione, but Ginny had heard the squeak. In response, Ginny did a wide reach in the opposite direction of where Hermione was, a sword appearing out of thin air in her hand, and just like lightening, Ginny flung the sword straight into the death eaters heart, without even giving him a glance.

My wand, I should get my wand, Hermione thought to herself. She’d been in situation far worse than this, but it was as if she was being weighted down by lead.

The first death eater that had tried to distract Ginny leapt forward, knocking the sword out of her hand. He swung, left punch, right punch, Ginny blocking every single one until it seemed that Ginny had started to become highly irritated. With both hands she grabbed each of his wrists, her leg swiftly rising between their bodies, kicking him in the face. Her foot had knocked him so hard that Hermione had wondered if his neck had snapped.

The last moving death eater came out from behind the shadows, drawing his wand. Ginny jerked her head towards him and rolled her eyes. She then launched in a series of back flips and cartwheels down the hallway, managing to avoid every curse that was slung at her. She ran quickly, leaping forward and kicking off the wall to connect a powerful blow to the mans jaw.

With the threat gone it seemed the Egyptian clad Ginny had calmed down, but she remained in the odd clothing. Ginny walked towards Hermione and bowed down onto one knee, touching her forehead to the floor. “My princess,” Ginny murmured.

“Ah, I think I know who the princess is that Ginny’s supposed to protect,” Ron stated, his voice so shocked it sounded as if he might faint.

“You always did have a knack for pointing out the obvious didn’t you Ron?” Harry managed to whisper.

“Ginny, get up,” Hermione whispered, reaching down to pull her up.

Ginny slowly raised herself, her head turning towards Harry, Draco, and Ron. Ginny quickly went in front of Harry and bowed, but not as low to the ground as she did with Hermione. “My prince,” Ginny whispered.

“Ah—” Harry threw his hands up and stared, blinking rapidly when her eyes lifted to his. She got up from her bow once more and then turned her eyes towards Draco.

She smiled softly up at him, making what seemed like a loving motion with her hand over his face. “My love,” she whispered, before leaning towards him, and kissing him deeply. “Reunited at last…love holds no bounds.”

“So, ah, a question, if Hermione’s the princess and Harry’s the prince does that mean they’re lovers or that Harry’s the prince of some place else?” Ron asked to no one in particular.

Hermione scoffed and lifted her head up to tell the redhead to stop being ridiculous, but when she saw Harry starring intently at her, she lost her words.

Hermione swore she nearly fainted when Ginny once again, bowed down in front of her. “Ginny please don’t that!”

“As you wish,” Ginny smiled, and then suddenly jerked back, gasping for breath, falling into Draco.

“What’s happening? Are you having a vision?” Draco asked, slightly panicked.

Her fingers gripped his forearms as her body stopped jerking from the vision aftermath. Slowly Ginny lifted her black eyes up to Draco.

“You betrayed me. You and Air, however I won’t kill, I don’t know why, perhaps it’s your magical trickery, but I still love you. I guarantee that it will die soon and when it does so will you,” she whispered weakly to him.

****

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, who had arrived too late, stared at the group both wondering what exactly they were saying to each other. It’s wasn’t as if they knew Ancient Egyptian.

-Finished-

I know, clichéd, Mary-sued all up and down, wasn’t the way I planed it (although Hermione was going to be the Egyptian Princess in the real way I had it), and I’m sure some of my facts are wrong, but I didn’t want to leave it incomplete, couldn’t leave it incomplete because I do plan on writing Egyptian Earth, like I said. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t care if it’s Mary-sue because I still like it and of course I’m sure a lot of you will think it’s cringe worthy, but don’t have to read it if you don’t want to you know?

Inspiration for this chapter:

The way Ginny looks: The gold, black, and indigo colors meaning loyalty etc…came from Fushigi Yugi and the Seriyu Seven. The fight scene (if you hadn’t already noticed) was a mixture of influence from The Mummy Returns and The 5^th Element.

Spoilers:

Title: Egyptian Earth

Summary: [Second of the Egyptian Trilogy] If finding out that in another life she was an Egyptian Princess with power over the element Earth wasn’t enough to take in, then all Hermione needed to add to that was knowing that her best friend Harry Potter had been her lover in that life. Not only does she have to figure out how to handle the situation, but what her feelings are for Harry, or better yet, his feelings for her. (A/N: To understand this story you must read Egyptian Fire.)