Iuga Sortis II

Thirteen

Ron felt warm, really warm. It was such a wonderful feeling, and he snuggled closer to it as if trying to make it envelop him whole. As he burrowed his head, he realized the warmth had a spongy aspect to it--on either side of his head. An eye popped open.

Since when did my pillow wear a bra?

He sucked in a wild breath of surprise and lifted his head quickly. There was Hermione, eyes closed in what looked like a peaceful sleep. The buttons of her blouse had come undone to show flesh that met the silk of her bra.

The fabric around his crotch all of a sudden became unbearably tight.

"Dear Merlin!"

He lifted himself off her gently so not to awaken her. He looked around the room wildly and noticed they were not in the Gryffindor common room, for which he was glad.

Then where the bloody hell arewe?

The room looked familiar, and it took him a few seconds to realize it was the Room of Requirement. A half-grin formed on his face. They'd taken to coming to this room at least once a week for some alone time, and each time the kisses became more passionate, the touches more daring, and the declarations of love more meaningful.

Hermione Louisa Granger loves me! ME!

He knew he had a stupid grin on his face, but he didn't care. It wasn't as if they were missed. Harry and Ginny were off at all hours of the night most nights as it was, and the rest of the Tower went home for Christmas holiday. He was glad he didn't go home; he didn't think he could deal with another Christmas watching his mother cry over Percy.

His grin turned into a scowl at the name. Percy wouldn't know right from wrong if it bit him in the arse. How could that stupid git still work for Fudge even after knowing You-Know-Who was back? Ron felt that was the ultimate betrayal.

He sighed. He didn't want to think about Percy now, not when he had more pleasant things to think about.

He rose from the sofa only to kneel beside it, his face hovering over Hermione's as she slept. He brushed strands of her hair from her face and caressed her temples lazily. Ron really didn't need anything else for Christmas; her love was enough of a gift to last a lifetime.

He kissed her forehead. "I love you, 'Mione," he murmured against her skin. A small smile played at her lips, and she shifted her body towards him, though still asleep. Ron wondered what time it was and how long they'd been in the room. Their robes were on the floor, and he looked in the pockets to find his watch. It was 7:30 am.

I'm actually up before noon voluntarily . . . there's a first!

He froze; they'd spent an entire night together. His cheeks turned red.

Dear Merlin, I hope I didn't drool on her!

He moved his head to her chest to look for any saliva; then he blushed even redder.

I really hope 'Mionedoesn't wake up and catch me in this rather compromising position! She'd have my head for it!

He glanced up to her face and breathed a sigh of relief to find she was still sleeping. His eyes went to her chest again, and he decided to button up her blouse, just in case she got the wrong idea.

His hands shook badly as he began his chore. He buttoned the first one without so much a stir from her. He closed his eyes and thanked the gods for small miracles as he moved to the second button. Success.

One more . . . I only have one more to go . . .

His hands held the third button.

THWACK!

"Bloody hell!"

"Ron! What do you think you're doing?!"

He'd fallen to his bum from the force of her slap, and he shook his hands to relieve their stinging.

He glared at Hermione. "Bugger, woman, you have some juice in your slap!"

She shot up and stared at him angrily. "What were you trying to do?"

"Button your top! They were undone!"

"And why were they undone, Ron?"

"I don't know! I woke up and they were like that. I didn't know you wore red underwear, love; I think it's kind of sexy," he said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

Hermione blushed madly even as she glowered. She humphed and looked at her blouse.

A bubble of laughter came forth.

"What?" Ron frowned at her sudden change of mood. "What's so funny?"

"It seems you were staring at the underwear instead of the buttons, Ron," she grinned. Hermione lifted her head and showed him her blouse. The buttons were off by one.

He cracked a grin. "To be quite honest, I was trying to figure out a way to get a more up close and personal look at what was under the 'underwear' . . ."

"RON!"

"I told you, you had beautiful breasts, Hermione. They're all nice and soft--"

The pillow hurt something terrible as it collided with the side of his head.

"As I was saying," he continued as he glared at the sofa cushion, "your pillows are a great deal softer than these . . ."

"Unbelievable!"

"I know it is, 'Mione. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact you love me."

The mouth she opened to snarl what he knew to be an insult transformed into a shy smile.

"Ron . . ."

He smiled and crawled to her. He spread her legs apart and kneeled between them; his head level with her chest. He undid her mismatched buttons and redid them correctly, all the while staring into her eyes. Her hands came up to grasp his, and she brought them to her lips, kissing the backs of them softly. Ron moaned and quickly put her lips to his, relishing in her taste. She wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him closer to her. His tongue pressed against hers, demanding an entrance she willingly granted. The rough texture of her tongue sent tingles of pleasure throughout his body, and he shook.

She pulled back a bit. "Are you cold, Ron?"

He shook his head. "You're the warmest thing on earth, Hermione. I'm never cold around you."

She gave him a most beautiful smile and kissed his nose. "What time is it?"

"7:30."

She frowned. "That's impossible, Ron! We walked out with Ginny and Harry which means that had to have been well after eight o'clock . . ."

Her eyes widened at the implication, and Ron tried to dampen his grin.

"RON!"

"Yes, love?"

She smacked his shoulder in embarrassment and frustration. "We spent the night together?"

He tried to look disappointed. "And what a waste that was, we didn't even get to have a little slap and tickle . . ."

She slapped his shoulder double time. "How could you say a thing like that?!"

"I'm just teasing you, Hermione; lighten up!"

Her eyes went wild. "Lighten up? Lighten up! I've practically turned into one of those--those scarlet women!"

Ron laughed. "Hermione! Don't be ridi--"

"Your mum's going to think me as such again, sleeping with her baby boy!"

"And that's exactly all we did, though I wouldn't have minded a bit more."

She slapped his shoulder again before shoving him away from her. She hurriedly put on her tie and jumper and searched between the two robes. Ron merely reclined against the couch, his hands behind his head.

"What's the hurry, love?"

"We need to get out of here, Ron! We never went back to the Tower!"

"So what? Everyone went home except for Harry and Ginny," he reminded her.

Her frantic movements slowed. "That's right. Wonder where they've been for the past few weeks. I'm sure extra lessons don't last that long . . ."

Ron's playful mood disappeared. "What?"

She stopped moving all together. "Ron . . ."

"Be careful what you're implying, Hermione. That's my sister and my best friend you're talking about."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "You're the one who's so quick to think of that, Ron. I'm just concerned for them; that's all. Haven't you noticed Dark activity's been rather quiet this past year? Harry's scar hasn't given him a problem once."

His eyebrows furrowed. "You have a point there, Hermione."

"And Ginny's just about the best student he had in the DA . . . Do you think they're doing some undercover work? You know; a hidden attack or something with the Order?"

His frown deepened. "Y'mean without us?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "It's a definite possibility. You know Harry's reluctant to tell us things that bother him . . ."

"But that doesn't mean he needs to drag my sister into it!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Knowing Ginny, she probably marched right into it herself. She didn't seem the least bit concerned about being Malfoy's patrolling partner, remember?"

Ron's brain searched back to that prefects' meeting nearly three months ago. He remembered being so full of rage he thought his head would pop off, and that sickening wink the ferret gave him was enough to drive him nutters. But now he remembered glancing at Ginny and her reaction to the list.

She was grinning!

"DAMMIT, MALFOY!" He jumped from the floor and began to stomp to the door. Hermione was quicker and pressed her back against the door before he could open it.

"Ron! Ron, calm down!"

"Calm down? Is something going on between my sister and that wanker?"

Hermione's eyes looked everywhere but at him. "I'm--I'm not sure . . ."

"But you have a sneaking suspicion, don't you?" His head was bobbing up and down as he spoke.

She glared at him. "Unlike you, Ron, I know to trust Ginny's judgment."

"Not if it involves Malfoy! I'll bet he used an Imperius Curse on her . . ."

He reached for the doorknob, but she slapped his hand away. "Listen to me, Ron. You will not create a scene; do you hear me? You'll let Ginny tell you whatever she wants to on her own terms at her own time. Don't force her into a situation!"

"Are you telling me how to treat my own sister?"

Hermione did not budge. "Yes, I am, Ron! You need to cool down, or you'll be on the receiving end of a Bat-Bogey Hex!"

He opened his mouth to reply, but then it changed into a smile. "That was a rather good hex . . ."

Hermione grinned. "I'm sure it was, Ron."

He looked up at the ceiling and began to laugh. "I'm such a daft git. I can't believe I would think Malfoy and my sister had a thing going on! Like you said, she and Harry have been out at all hours of the night for weeks . . ."

Hermione's laugh sounded forced to his ears, and he stopped.

All hours of the night?

Silence.

"DAMMIT, HARRY!"

He reached for the door, only to have his hand slapped away again.

"Bugger, woman! What's it with you slapping me?!"

"Ronald Weasley, what are you about to do?"

"I'm about to rip Harry a new one!"

"He is your best friend!"

"A best friend who lied about dating my sister! Why couldn't he just tell me, Hermione?"

"Perhaps he knew you'd go nuttersat the news, Ron," she said dryly as she crossed her arms before her. "Wonder where he'd get an idea like that?"

"I don't know! I'm hurt!"

"What?"

"I'm happy for them! I'll have to say though it's a long time coming . . ."

The look on Hermione's face was nothing short of priceless. He kissed her gaping mouth closed.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Do I seem the kidding kind?"

She gave him an incredulous look.

"I'm not kidding this time, love. I got to find Harry. He's in for one serious ribbing . . ."

He tried to open the door, and she slapped his hand.

"Why did you hit me this time?" he asked exasperatedly.

She tilted her head towards the fireplace. "Your clothes?"

He looked down and noticed he was only in his t-shirt and trousers. "Right," he said sheepishly. He put on his shirt, tie, jumper and shoes and draped his robe over his arm. He approached Hermione and intertwined her fingers with his. She smiled, and he followed suit, kissing the back of her hand.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes."

He squeezed her hand. "I hope you know the only reason I'm holding your hand is so you don't slap mine . . ."

Not that it mattered to Hermione; there were other places well within her reach.

"Sometimes I wish you weren't so clever," he muttered as they left the room. His left bicep was stinging from her blow. The door disappeared behind them, and she smirked.

"But, Ron, if I wasn't so clever, how would you pass your classes?"

Ron gave her a dry look. "Too bad you're not as witty as you are clever, love."

She scoffed. "Let's not be sore, Ron."

He mimicked her comment silently and received a pinch for his efforts. "I really don't appreciate abusing this beautiful body, love."

Hermione looked before him and behind him as if she was trying to find something.

"What's wrong, 'Mione?"

"I'm trying to find something," she said distractedly.

"What?"

"This beautiful body you claim to have . . ."

He scowled and brought her body roughly to his. "You don't have a monopoly on beauty, love. We have a monopoly on beauty . . ."

She snuggled next to him as they got to the portrait. "Another dictionary word . . . you're so sexy when you use them . . ."

He grinned down at her. "Then you'll be really turned on to hear I've started using a thesaurus as well . . ."

Ron kissed her temple, and she purred. "Oh, the possibilities . . ."

He laughed the password to the Fat Lady, and the portrait door opened. Ron stopped dead at the sight before him.

There was Ginny on top of Harry's lap, sleeping with her head on his chest under his chin. Harry's back rested against the couch on the floor, and he cradled her even in sleep. They seemed to have spent the night in that position. A gamut of emotions went through him. The most prominent was mischievousness.

"What are you about to do?" Hermione whispered warily. He smirked at her and put a finger to her lips to make her be quiet.

Ron crept to the sleeping couple until his mouth was close to Harry's ear. No sooner had he opened his mouth than a fist connected very well with his nose.

"DAMMIT!"

"Shit!"

"Ron?"

"Nothing less than you deserve!"

Ron rolled his eyes and fell to his back as he held his throbbing nose. A sticky substance coated his hands, and belatedly he realized it was blood.

Just peachy!

"I'm so sorry, mate! It was a reflex!" Harry said frantically.

"What were you trying to do, Ron?" Ginny asked. Both were on either side of him, and Hermione knelt above his head.

"He was trying to startle you awake," Hermione said dryly. "I'm glad you gave him a good sock, Harry. He shouldn't do that to people."

Ron would've glared at her if his nose didn't hurt so badly.

"Move your hands, Ron; I'm going to mend it," Ginny said as she took his hands in hers. Ron frowned at the statement and at her hands going over his nose.

"Binny?" he asked, his voice incoherent.

"0a snof 0wrpaxre."

Ron's eyes widened as a red light shone from her hands. It tickled his nose, and he wanted to laugh. Very quickly the light faded, and with it so did the pain.

He wiggled his nose and looked at her, flabbergasted. "Blimey, Gin! What did you do to me?" He gingerly touched his nose to examine her handiwork. His nose was as if it'd never been hit.

"I healed you," she said with nonchalance.

He looked at Hermione who stared at her with fascination. "Dear God, Ginny! You used wandlessmagic, and it worked! What language were you speaking? It's definitely not Latin! Could you teach me how?"

Ginny and Harry shared a decidedly cautious look, and Ron decided to ask them a question they'd be more inclined to answer.

"Why was Ginny in your lap, Harry?"

Well, maybe not more inclined, but unavoidable nonetheless!

"Ah . . . well . . . you see it's like this . . ." Harry drawled.

"I had a bad dream, and he comforted me," Ginny replied, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

Hermione frowned. "How would he know about you having a bad dream if you're in the girls' dormitories?"

Ginny blushed a bit. "Actually, I feel asleep during tra--extra lessons, and Harry carried me upstairs--"

"You carried her up seven flights of stairs?" Ron breathed.

Hermione scoffed. "Of course not, Ron! He used a levitation charm!"

The look on Harry's face told Ron otherwise. "Harry . . ."

Harry turned pink and shrugged as he shook his head. "Well, I mean, she's not all that heavy . . ."

While it was true Ginny wasn't Professor Umbridge, she was hardly light as a feather.

"What do they have you doing down there?" Ron asked suddenly. He'd noticed Harry gain some muscle over the fall term, but chalked it up to Quidditch; now he wasn't so sure.

"All sorts of things, mainly running and weight lifting," Ginny said vaguely.

"The Muggle way?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, any other way would defeat the purpose!" Harry teased good-naturedly.

Hermione gave him a sarcastic look, and Ron grinned. "Anyway, tell me about this dream, Gin. What disturbed you so that you woke up in Harry's arms?"

Harry blushed again, and Ginny glared at him. "Ron!"

"It's just a simple question, Gin." He shrugged.

"Simple, my arse . . ."

"Virginia Anne Weasley! You shall not curse!"

"Who died and made you Mum?"

Ron looked indignant. "You dare sass me?"

"I can re-break that nose, Ron."

He turned red and glared at a snickering Harry. "Just answer the question, Gin!"

She sighed heavily. "Fine . . . I remember walking through Hogsmeade, and I heard noises coming from the Shrieking Shack. I was supposed to be patrolling with Malfoy, but I didn't know where he was. I thought maybe it was a lost student or something, so I went inside to see what was wrong. As soon as I stepped inside, I was grabbed, gagged, and blindfolded. I was kicking and screaming vainly, but their grip was too tight . . . too strong . . ."

Ron watched as Harry squeezed the shoulders of a visibly shaking Ginny. His hand went to grasp Hermione's, almost as an automatic action.

"Go on . . ." he urged.

Ginny nodded and continued. "Obviously I didn't know where I was going because I was blindfolded, but I had the idea I was going deeper and deeper underground because the natural light was getting dimmer. There was whispering, and then a hiss of a door, and apparently we walked through it. Through my blindfold, I could tell there was light again, and then the blindfold was taken off of me. I gasped sharply at the sight of men in masks . . . Death Eaters, I'm assuming . . ."

Ron's grip on Hermione's hand tightened, and he saw her glance at him out the corner of his eye.

"What else?"

She closed her eyes. "It was a dark, candlelit room and a simple black gurney in the center of the room, elevated to the Death Eaters' waists. Then I became so terrified. On the ceiling was a mirror, and there were straps on the gurney. I knew immediately what was going to happen."

Ron shook his head in denial. "No . . ."

Ginny nodded sadly. "They shoved me to the center of the room. I fought them as best I knew how, but they'd already taken my wand. I used some of the moves I was taught in the extra lessons with Professor Roberts, but it was to no avail. They used a mild stunning charm on me, which left me slow as molasses; I couldn't so much as lift my arm without it feeling like lead. The men around me snickered as they strapped me down--wrists and ankles bound. My legs were spread eagle, and my arms were in a Y shape over my head. I'd never felt so exposed, and I wasn't even naked; not yet anyway . . ."

"Naked?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"Yet?" Ron's voice was hoarse.

Ginny's trembles became more violent, and her bottom lip quivered with the effort not to cry.

"You don't have to finish, Gin . . . we'll all understand if you don't want to finish," Harry reassured her, but she shook her head.

"No, Harry. This is important. I think . . . I think I should tell you the rest of it."

Hermione wrapped her left arm around herself. Ron situated himself to allow her back to lean against his front between his legs.

"This is a horrible dream, Ginny . . ." Hermione murmured. Ron placed a tender kiss to the top of her head, and Hermione squeezed his forearms.

Ginny closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowing in distress. "They began chanting, chanting in Coptic . . . jpo keketa ebh . . . jpo keke taebh . . ."

Ron shook his head in confusion. "What does that mean?"

Ginny replied without opening her eyes. "It means 'beget child toward darkness,' or have a child of darkness. They wanted me to produce an heir."

"No bloody way!" Ron exclaimed. "And where was Malfoy? He's supposed to be with you at all times."

Ginny whimpered, and Ron's ire began to rise. "Malfoy . . . he was there . . ."

Ron's voice was dangerously low. "And what was he doing?"

She choked back a sob. "He--he was undressing me . . ."

Ron tensed to rise, but Hermione pushed his legs back down around her.

"He had a vacant look in his eyes as he did it, as if he couldn't see me, but I knew he could. His eyes flickered every time they met mine; I knew he knew I was there. Finally, I was totally nude. He ran his hands over my body, coated with some oil. No doubt it was special to the ritual; it was myrrh. The caress was so soft, I whimpered. It was as if he was trying to be gentle in the violent act he was doing . . . such an oxymoron . . . but then again, Malfoy was always such a thing; to me at least . . ."

Ron's eyes furrowed at the implication.

What did that mean?

"I thought it was odd to be using myrrh, for Nia told me that was the principle ingredient in holy anointing oil for kings and other holy beings in Christianity. It was a sacred element, and it was being used for this? I was angry, and I began to thrash and scream again, angry they were calling this violation a holy thing, a good thing . . . but it was to no avail. I was making my voice and bound parts raw, and they laughed at me. They laughed at me. I wanted to cry, but I didn't; there was nothing they could do to make me cry, I vowed to myself. At least there wasn't until what happened next . . ."

Ginny's voice faded as she controlled her sob. Harry ran his hands up and down in a comforting action, but to Ron that only seemed to make her more agitated.

"Harry, stop touching her!"

The dark-haired boy looked at him confusedly. "What?"

"Trust me, mate. Don't touch her, not yet anyway . . ."

Harry began to pull his arms away, but Ginny stopped him. "No!" She swallowed thickly. "No, Ron. I don't want to feel alone right now . . ."

Harry looked to Ron for permission, and he reluctantly nodded. "Go ahead, Harry."

His arms went back around Ginny, but he didn't move them this time.

She took a deep breath and began to speak again. "Malfoy moved away from me; his eyes looked sad almost, and I was torn from wanting to break him and wanting to mend him. It seemed to me he didn't want to do this, but his father was a senior Death Eater; he had no choice, right?"

Ron barely contained a snort. He thought--no, he knew--it was Malfoy Junior's dream to follow in his git father's footsteps.

Bloody wanker.

"Well, that's what I told myself as this entire process went on . . . there was no way he'd throw away all the trust I'd put in him, no bloody way. But then I saw Harry walk inside, the same blank look in his eyes, and I knew it was my worst nightmare coming to life."

"Dear God, Ginny, don't say," Hermione began, her own voice growing thick. Harry clenched his eyes and jaw shut, and Ron felt an unnatural hatred toward his best friend.

"He didn't, Gin . . . no . . ." Ron chanted vainly.

"He was wearing a Death Eater robe, Harry was, and his glasses were on his face. Sick, sadistic bastards! Making us watch each other. Me naked and spread like a dinner setting, and he about to watch himself--I cried then. Harry didn't move much, and they took off his robe. He was just as naked as I, and they were making fun of his . . . uh, well . . . you know . . ."

Ron would've laughed if the conversation wasn't so heavy.

"They tilted the gurney back to lie flat, and I saw myself in the mirror above me. I stared at it blankly until Harry's vacant face and eyes came into my view. It was such a mechanical process, and the lack of emotion hurt my heart the most. Harry just climbed on top of me and did his thing. I tried to turn my head away, but he put his hands on either side of my head and forced me to look at him, to look into those eyes that didn't look so dead. It was as if he was trying to apologize even as he rutted me like an animal. The Death Eaters around us jeered and cheered, saying how my 'hero' wasn't being very 'heroic' now . . . and then it was over."

There was silence for a while.

Ron moved his mouth a bit before sound could come out. "Is--is that all?" When Ginny shook her head, his heart fell to his stomach.

How could she dream all of this? Why didn't she wake herself up before all of this happened? How could this happen to my sister? Could this happen to Ginny?

"I squeezed my eyes shut as Harry, uh, finished. I heard one of them say 'Open your eyes, wench!' I did so slowly, because I didn't want to, but I was afraid if I didn't, they'd stick someone else on me, and I couldn't bear that . . .when I did, the eyes weren't green anymore; they were brown and not behind glasses. The skin around the eyes wasn't white anymore; it was black. I frowned and immediately thought someone else had mounted me, but I didn't feel Harry leave, so I knew that was impossible. The body moved farther away from me, and I yelped. It was Angelina's father who was atop me . . ."

"WHAT!" Ron bellowed. This dream was getting more and more disturbing, and he couldn't help but think had he dreamt it, he probably would've found Harry too.

Well, maybe not to cuddle with, but definitely to calm me down . . .

"I closed my eyes again, and I was ordered to open them again. Once I did, the first thing I realized when I looked in the overhead mirror was my hair wasn't red. It was black and short instead of long and red. My eyes widened, and I saw they were golden, and they stared at the reflected dark-skinned body in fascination and disgust. Then I knew--I was no longer Ginny Weasley; I was Nia's mother. I don't know how I figured it out, but I instinctively knew I was her mother. I began to weep again. This was how Nia was conceived. I knew it was. The dream had changed from the future to the past, and my heart broke. My heart broke for her, for her mother, for me . . .the sobs would not stop as the gurney tilted up to the original position."

Ron's heart broke as well, and he felt guilty and sad. Sad for the Johnsons, and sad for Nia because of the position her parents were put in. He was almost afraid to ask the question on his mind. "What happened . . . next?"

"I continued to look at the ceiling because I couldn't bear to see the Death Eaters, even if they were in masks, but they weren't having that. They threatened to physically move my head down if I didn't do it myself. I didn't want the vile men touching me again, so I did it myself. When my eyes came down, the first sight I saw made me throw up over myself, so disgusted and betrayed I felt . . ."

Ron shuddered at the mental image that evoked. "Malfoy's ugly mug would make anyone blow chunks."

Ginny's laugh was half strangled and half genuine. "Well, it wasn't Malfoy, though I imagine I would've reacted the same way had it been myselfwho saw Malfoy at the time. But remember, I'm Nia's mother now."

Ron nodded, but this was the second time Ginny hinted something about Malfoy that made him uneasy.

"Who was it, Gin? Who did Nia's mother see?" Hermione asked gently.

Ginny shivered, and Harry's arms tightened around her. "Remember how I described Draco's eyes? Eyes that were blank unless they looked into mine? Those gray eyes from before were now black."

Hermione gasped. "Him?"

Ron hadn't figured out the "him" yet. Harry seemed just as oblivious as he was.

"Who?"

Ginny's voice lowered to a whisper. "It was . . . it was Professor Snape."

Armageddon could've happened outside, and the four of them would not have registered it.

"What?" Harry asked. His voice was low and very threatening, so much so it scared Ron a little bit.

"Harry?" he asked cautiously.

"He--he did that to her? To Nia'smother?"

Harry's voice was growing louder and wilder. Hermione left Ron's arms to calm Harry down.

"Harry, it's okay. Nia's fine . . ."

"No thanks to him!"

Ron couldn't remember seeing Harry so angry, and definitely not at Snape. He suddenly had a thought.

"Gin . . . you--you don't think, you don't think your dream was a look into the future, do you?"

She looked at him with troubled eyes, and his own ire rose. "If I saw the past with Nia's mother, who's to say what I saw with me wasn't the future?"

Ron locked eyes with Harry, and it seemed one thought went through their minds at the same time.

"I'll kill him."