The Prophecy of Valeo

"Come on Harry, it can't be that bad!" Ginny said, rapping on the bathroom door. There was silence for a few second before He spoke.

"I'm not coming out!" he roared. "Nothing can be worth this!" Ginny decided to play her trump card early, and worked up her courage again. She seemed to have to will it back to her every few minutes to keep up the flirtatious banter.

"Not even me in your boxers?" she cooed beguilingly. Harry was silent again before Ginny heard a satisfying click. The door slowly opened by itself and Ginny snorted, trying to keep herself from falling to the ground in hysterical fits of hurtful laughter.

Harry stood before her, his fists clenched a scowl on his face. He wore a pink spaghetti-string summer dress and a straw, wide brimmed hat that squished his hair down so that it was plastered to his face in messy locks.

"I hate you," he mumbled.

"Er, that color looks good on you," Ginny said, and finally burst out in a fit of giggles. It seemed to go on for hours and Harry just stood there, experimenting on just how far his eyes could roll up into the back of his head while his face burned red.

He finally stomped off into the guest room and slammed the door with a bang. Ginny quieted, and a few moments later, the door opened a few inches and Harry's arm flung out at Ginny the ash-colored sweat shirt and the snitch boxers.

"This better be good!" he yelled.

* * *

Draco's mother flung the door to his room open and he sat quickly up on the bed, looking at her with a mixture of anxiety and a hint of worry. She raced over and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Mum, what are you-," Draco began, but Narcissa cut him short.

"Draco, use the floo powder by the fireplace to go to Knockturn alley. At the end of the street, there is a shop called celo scelus. Tell the guard at the door that you are a Malfoy and he'll let you in. Go to vault 709 and say this spell to open it."

Narcissa shoved a yellowed piece of parchment into his hand and she said the last bit.

"Come back here and use the magical globe in the living room to locate the nearest wizarding family. Fly there and don't come back for anything under no circumstances. Don't ask any questions, and try not to miss me," she said, kissing his forehead.

Draco stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before she hissed, "Go."

* * *

Harry sat on the feather bed in the dress, trying to figure out how to sit without having his underwear exposed.

The things girls wear to get noticed, he thought. These were broken when he heard light footsteps coming from down the hallway. Ginny knocked once on the door and opened it with a sleeved hand. Harry gasped and felt his stomach twist into a thousand tiny knots when he saw her.

Ginny was leaning in the doorway of the guest room, her arms crossed. The Quidditch hoop sweatshirt covered her hands, the neck hole drooped to the tips of her shoulders, and the waist fell to the ends of her thighs. Peeking out from behind that were the boxers, the snitches gleaming stunningly.

Her hair, as always, fell across her shoulders in wavy loops. He could only stare at her, an odd feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

"Harry, are you alright?" Ginny said, cocking her head to the side. Harry nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he said softly. "But I think I might've ruined your dress." Ginny laughed and began to walk over to him.

"You really do look good in that co- whoa!" she yelled as she "tripped" over a notch in the hardwood floor, which sent her spiraling to the bed and into Harry's chest where she landed with an almighty FUMP.

Well this worked out well.

She lifted her head to look at his face, her hair showering the two of them. She lifted herself onto her arms, their legs hopelessly entwined. Harry could feel her warm breath. She smelled like cherries and her breath was welcoming and smoky.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, looking at his neon green eyes. Harry noticed that up close, Ginny's own eyes had specks of turquoise mixed in with the brown he had glanced at previously. He smiled.

"I'm not," he whispered, rolling her onto her back. And then he kissed her.

* * *

Draco landed in the hard fireplace of a smelly shop with a log digging into his back. For a moment, he thought he might have been paralyzed. But everything seemed to be working correctly, aside from the fact that he was white with shock.

Finally, when he had gained the use of all his limbs, he climbed out from the ashes and firewood to find that he was in a store that seemed to be completely dedicated to the art of shrinking human heads.

He raced out the door with a nasty look from the moldy shopkeeper and sped down the lumpy road, curious people staring at his back where a large knot the size of a bludger was forming.

Draco could never remember having ever looked like this in public; his platinum blonde hair was messy and full of dust, and his expensive cloths were covered with ashes and dirt. But something in his mother's voice made him run faster, despite the pain in his lower back that was growing with every step he took.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he reached the storage shop winded, bleeding from a cut above his right eyebrow, and sore everywhere he could possibly think of. The large, troll-like guard at the front gate stared at him suspiciously.

"I'm ...a... Malfoy," he panted. The guard didn't budge.

"Brand please," he said in a monotone.

Brand? Like liquor brand?

"Uh...Jermyn's Firewhiskey?" he said, his mind clouded. The man scowled.

"Your brand, sir...Your tattoo."

"Oh," Draco said in blurred understanding, and lifted up his arm to show the guard the Malfoy symbol that had been burned into place on his wrist.

"Please step forward." The guard took one giant step to the left in order to let the true Malfoy through.

Draco opened to door to the musty old shop which looked deserted except for a skinny, balding wizard asleep at the front desk. Deciding it best not to wake him, he walked behind the slumbering man into a towering hall full of odd-looking doors with carvings around the frames.

The room was dimply lit by a few torched here and there nailed to the muddy walls. He walked for at least half an hour, his eyes scanning the doors, before he found room 709. He pulled the parchment his mother had given him out of his pocket and began to whisper the Latin words, careful not to mispronounce.

"Inquam ianua pectorous dissimulo."

There was a disturbing list of sounds from behind the door and then a loud scraping as it slid clear into the wall, leaving a gaping rectangular hole in its place.

* * *

It was like nothing Ginny had ever felt before. Her head spun wildly and everything bad inside of her disappeared. The weight on top of her body was oddly satisfying, and Harry seemed solid, yet she melted into him at the same time. She could hear his heart beating rapidly and after a few moments hers beat to the same rhythm.

The curves and notches in their bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, and Ginny ran her fingers through his messy hair affectionately. All of the feelings that had built up inside her were pouring out and she never wanted it to end.

The scene was humiliating and insanely romantic at the same time, and Ginny nearly had to stop and throw up from the overwhelming sense of joy that the kiss gave her. Finally, their lips parted reluctantly, leaving them both panting slightly.

"My heart's pounding," Harry whispered.

Ginny closed her eyes and pulled him by the collar of his dress to her again. She wanted to say I love you; she wanted to curl up by a big fireplace and read Moby Dick next to him on a bear skin rug. But all that she could do at the moment was kiss him with all of the emotions she could think of pulsing through her veins.

Finally, Ginny felt him roll over onto the bed and she opened her eyes. He laced his finger with hers and lay on his side. She did the same and propped her head on her hand.

"You're a good kisser," he said. Ginny smiled. He reached over and wrapped his arms around her. She wriggled closer to him and Harry buried his head in her hair.

"It's weird, isn't it?" she said.

"Hmm?" he said into her head. His breath tickled her scalp.

"I mean, a week ago you knew me as Ron's little sister. The next thing you know, I'm in your boxers." Harry lifted his chin.

"I think I loved you before now. Unconsciously, anyway," he said. Ginny sighed.

"So what do you think Ron'll do?" she asked him. Harry laughed quietly, and with a hint of bitterness.

"Well, first I think he'll turn every color in the rainbow-from shock, I hope, not anger- and then he'll either strangle me or laugh hysterically," he said thoughtfully.

"Oooh, can I watch?" Ginny said.

"If you really want to. I'm just warning you, if I die in there, you're going to be the first witness they call to the stand."

* * *

Dear Ron,

Pig sent me your reply today, and I put him in a pillowcase to shut him up. I just pried a ball of feathers out of his mouth; he was choking a minute ago. Anyway, our family is going to America for a vacation until the end of June. I'll probably be there by the beginning of July. So how are Harry and Gin? You shouldn't by mad at her for liking him. I have a sneaking suspicion about those two...Cheers!

Love,

Hermione

P.S. You really shouldn't make fun of Malfoy like that. Last year was hard for him. But on the whole scale of how long you've been enemies, I guess you're right. He's still a prat.

P.S.S. I'm sending Henry with my letter. Pig's a little winded.

Hermione scanned over the note quickly before opening the door to the gray owl's cage. He stepped boldly from his perch and held out his left leg, and Hermione tied it to him with a bit of twine.

He took off from the desk immediately and flew out the half-open window of Hermione's bedroom. She smiled and twisted a lock of shining brown hair absentmindedly. Ron was such a good friend, if not more than that.

* * *

Draco crawled out of the den fireplace ten times more hurt and exhausted than before. He coughed for a moment, sprawled on the cashmere carpet, and threw up a mixture of saliva, dirt, and blood.

The pain in his back was intensifying to the point of knocking him out, and a sharp grinding sensation in his knee told him that it was wither sprained, or broken. He limped heavily to the large and magnificent globe in the corner of the room, pressed his finger where he was currently- the Malfoy Mansion, and closed his eyes.

"Exsto!" he said as loud as he could. His finger was pulled around to the other side of the globe and the point at which it stopped glowed yellow. He waited a moment, and it shot a few sparks into the air about an inch about the surface of the globe, then miniscule white words appeared just above them. He read it and his heart stopped beating from the bitter irony of the entire situation.

The tiny letters grouped together to form two words; The Weasleys.

* * *

"Here," Harry said, tossing Ginny the pink tank top dress. He had already changed into a beater Tee-shirt and a pair of worn in blue jeans. Ginny caught it and smiled. She was, gladly, back in her yellow shirt and shorts.

"I'll be washing this, then," she said. Harry grinned and his uncovered eyes lit up magnificently.

"You wouldn't happen to know what happened to my glasses, would you?" he asked, scratching his head. "I think you knocked them off when we were...er..."

"Snogging like crazed maniacs who had just gotten out of jail?" she finished for him. Harry nodded.

"Exactly," he said. Ginny reached into the mass of blankets on the bed and pulled out his wire lined spectacles. He took them gratefully. "Thanks," he said, leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"God, you're such a romantic. We've been together for a total of five minutes and you're already kissing my forehead. At this rate, you'll be calling me sweetie in an hour. Honestly, I don't see how you fight the girls off," Ginny said, shaking her head.

* * *

Draco lifted the sack on his shoulder to keep it from falling off his arm as he half ran, half limped through the dining room. He was partway to the door when a venomous voice startled him.

"Hello, son." Draco turned slowly around to see his father staring at him, his face expressionless except for a tiny sneer in the corners of his mouth.

"Where's Mum?" Draco snarled, though he knew already. He remembered his mother's chilling words at his bed side; try not to miss me.

"Oh, she's dead," Lucius said casually. "I killed her an hour ago."

"You're a bastard," Draco said evenly, shock overcoming him. He wondered when it would wear off and if he'd break down. Either that or he'd throw hard things and try to kill someone; preferably his father.

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Lucius said, smiling horribly. "You've got the mark of our family on your arm. You can't erase your past, Draco." Draco swallowed hardly. "Narcissa was only getting in the way of my plan."

"What plan?" Draco barked.

"To become the next Dark Lord, of course. What did you think, that I was performing all of the spells on myself for fun?" Lucius said matter-of-factly. "Now I'm quite sorry son, but I'm going to have to kill you now."

"I hate you," he said, running to the door and sprinting up the spiraling stairs to his room. He opened the door and grabbed his broom off the concrete wall, whisking over to the window and flinging it open. He mounted it as he leaned on the sill and heard footsteps racing up the staircase behind him.

Without a second thought, he pushed off the side of the mansion with his feet and flew out into the early noon air just as Lucius entered his room. Draco turned his head and saw his father staring at him from the open window; just staring. Not bellowing Avada Kedavra, not screaming at him to come back.

Whatever happened to him in the future, he would always remember Lucius staring at him as he escaped from his home, hoping to never return.

Dear Mione,

Harry and Ginny are fine. They've been hanging around together a lot lately, and I think I've figured out what your mean by I have a feeling about the two of them... but do you think that could actually happen? I mean, as far as I know Harry just knows Gin as my little sister. But you never know... You're the smart one, what do you think? The whole thing's got me stumped and, quite frankly, ready to hurl. On a lighter hand, pick me up something from America. I would quite like a girl, but if you can't capture one for me, a hat or t shirt would do nicely as well.

Love,

Ron

P.S. You're just sticking up for Malfoy because he fed you a bunch of lies about his family. I'm holding on to my Weasley way- anything concerning the word Malfoy should be thrown mercilessly into a blazing chemical fire. Rule number 1 in my Dad's book.

P.S.S. Keep pig as long as you want. It keeps my ink bottles from being upset every five minutes.

* * *

A small knock on Ron's door announced Harry and Ginny's arrival, and they opened the door without needing an answer. Ron wasn't facing them; he had his body towards the window and was clicking a pen between his fingers on the desk top. Harry cleared his throat and he turned around.

"Hey, buddy," Harry said. Ron's facial expression hardened.

"What's the deal?" Ron asked, looking at Ginny, then Harry again and then back at Ginny. She stared at the floor.

"Er...," was all she could manage. "You know that bet you made the other day?"

"Yeah," said Ron, obviously confused. "The one about you and Harry." Harry blushed despite himself.

"Well...," Ginny said.

"Oh, come off it!" Harry said. "We kissed. Me and your sister. Now, if you want to rip me to shreds and use my internal organs as a haunting bagpipe, then go ahead. Just don't let Gin see."

"Fine," Ron muttered. Harry and Ginny alike both stared at him, their mouths wide and gaping.

"What?" they said in harmony.

"I said fine," Ron said again. "I don't care." A few moments silence past before either of them could speak.

"Thanks," Harry murmured.

"Whatever," Ron retorted. Ginny grabbed Harry by the sleeve of his tee-shirt and forced him out the door, closing it behind her.

"Well that was easy," Harry said. Ginny nodded.

* * *

Thud, thud, thud. It sounded like someone rapping on glass. Thud, thud, thud. It grew louder and more frequent. She was in the kitchen, cleaning the island from the day's breakfast. Her mother and father were gone on a last-minute business trip to London. Harry and Ron had gone to the store an hour ago and were due back any second. Thud, thud, thud. She stopped cleaning and followed the noise to the front door. The clinking stopped, and Ginny slowly opened the door. A flash of platinum blonde hair and sticky red blood, and then...

She woke in her own bedroom, the smell of sweat rising in her nostrils. It had been so real, not a dream, but something that was actually happening or would happen to her. A premonition? She didn't know. But that hair... she could remember it from somewhere. She dug her head into her pillow, trying to go back to bed.

* * *

The next morning when Harry, Ginny and Ron were eating breakfast, Mrs. Weasley rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a few odds and ends from the drawers.

"Hallo, Mom," Ron said brightly. Mrs. Weasley grunted in reply and continued to grab things.

"Er, whatcha doing?" Ginny asked. Mrs. Weasley stopped, sitting a traveling bag heavily on the table grumpily.

"Your father just received a call from the Ministry. Apparently, there's been an accident shape-shifting pencil sharpener in London that changed into a Dragon. He's been assigned there as a business trip," she said, her face screwed up in bitterness. "Some vacation."

Ginny's stomach disappeared- Her mother and father had gone on a last-minute business trip to London.

Mrs. Weasley kissed each of them on the forehead as a quick goodbye and then hurried out the door, where the sound of a car motor could be heard.

Ginny looked through the hallway blankly, shock welling in the pit of her stomach.