The Prophecy of Valeo

Draco, his body and mind slightly over coming the shock that it had ignored for the past twelve hours, could barely stay on his broom. He was flying slightly off from a large forest of healthy trees, and couldn't help but feel that he was falling into some sort of trap.

Even if he did make it to the Weasleys', he would be murdered anyway. But there was no time to worry about his homicide now. Finally, when the branches cleared a few moments afterward, Draco could see the tall, slanting, and horrid house on the horizon.

Pushing himself to go faster, at last his feet stumbled onto the greenish-yellow grass in front of the burrow. He half-crawled up to the door, collapsing on the porch, his back searing with pain he had never experienced before.

He raised his hand slowly, beginning to close his eyes. He struggled to keep them open, though; if he fell asleep he would probably die. Draco brought his knuckled to the door coyly.

THUD.

* * *

Ginny's heart stopped. Thud. There it was- exactly like her dream. At least now she knew that it was a premonition. But that didn't explain why he was on her door step. Slowly, she lowered the plate she was cleaning to the table and walked over to the door.

She hesitated a moment before grabbing the handle and creaking the door open just enough to see Draco Malfoy's bloody and crumpled body lying at her feet before covering her mouth to stifle a scream.

Sure he was dead, a huge lump of icy metal tore through her stomach. Despite herself, she wanted him to be alive. It was her nature to love. She dropped to her knees and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him violently until his eyes popped open, partly to her relief.

As his vision cleared slightly, he saw Ginny standing over him, a mixture of anger, fear, happiness, worry, and just about anything he could think of on her face. Her hair was the color of fire and his own blood.

It was a horrifying sight.

Both of them were silent for a moment, before Draco spoke in as much sarcasm as he could muster.

"Stop staring at me, Weasley. I know I'm beautiful." Whatever worry in Ginny's face quickly vanished. There were so many questions in her head that she didn't know what to say. Finally, she chose an obvious one.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "And, excuse me, but aren't you the one covered in gore and as helpless as a queer in a lesbian support group?" She thought she saw a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth.

"Long story," he said between hard breaths. "Just let me in this hell hole." That was it. Ginny closed the door in his face, and quickly regretted it. Even if this was Malfoy, and a complete and utter prat that she shall never care for, he was hurt and by the looks of it ready to die.

Quickly, she reopened the door, dragged him by his limp arm into the hallway, and dropped him heavily head first onto the linoleum. He grunted.

"Are you always this bitchy?" he asked. Ginny smacked him across the face, and he grunted louder.

"I'm saving you, you ass. You were the one on my doorstep, your my family's arch enemy, your father cursed me with a possessed diary when I was eleven, you've humiliated me countless times at school, and your life literally lies in the palm of my hand. So if I were you, I'd shut the hell up besides telling me why you're here in the first place. Draco sighed and scowled at the old chandelier above his head. He could feel her hand touching him on his right shoulder, and the pain subsiding, but decided to ask questions later.

"My father's gone mental and tried to kill me," he said. Ginny rolled her eyes. She didn't believe a word of it.

"So why didn't you just run to your mommy?" she asked ironically. Draco bit his tongue.

"Because she's dead." Ginny couldn't think of anything hateful to say.

"Geez, you've got a lump the size of a basket ball on your back," she said, desperate for a subject change. "What did you do, sit in a catapult and tell a barbarian he looks like an ape?" Draco didn't respond. He had fallen asleep. She quickly fixed the last of his bruised with her hand, and realized that she felt drained, like she had run a mile.

Figuring she should probably wake him up, she prodded him in his mended ribs. He jumped a few inches and glared at her. Then he realized that his body didn't hurt anymore.

"What the-," he began.

"Don't ask," Ginny said. "I won't tell you anyway. And you didn't answer my question, imbecile. Is it too hard for you? Why are you here?" Draco sneered.

"It was the closest wizarding home from the mansion. Believe me, I would rather be in Hades than here." Ginny's fists tightened and she grabbed him by the neck of his collar dragged him up, forgetting she was weak. Perfect timing, too- she could hear Ron and Harry talking a few feet away from the back door.

"Get your ass up those stairs, and hide in the broom closet a story up. Don't even think about moving." She pushed him and, with one last glance of hatred, he ran swiftly up the railing in front of her just as her brother and Harry opened the door and stepped inside the house.

* * *

The closet Draco had been ordered to hide in (which was unacceptable in itself- especially by a Weasley) was putrid. About three of four square feet around, it smelled like old cleaning fluid and moths. He closed his eyes- partly to keep the smell out of his eyes, and partly from thinking of his mother.

It had been too soon. She wasn't supposed to go yet. And then he realized that he was nearly to the point of crying, and stopped himself. No matter what happened, he would never cry. Ever.

Trying to revert his mind to something else, the first thing that popped in was Ginny. There were so many questions- What had she done to heal him? Why had she taken him in? Why did her horrid hair just seem to get redder ever year? And, most of all, where had she gotten all those one-liner comebacks?

His thoughts were thankfully ripped away from him when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

Harry noticed that Ron had been silent the whole time they walked back from the market. Currently, they were trotting blandly towards the orchard door to go home, and Ron still hadn't said a word to him. He knew what it was about.

Trying to cheer him up, he bent to the ground and picked up a piece of amethyst crystal which had pricked him in the sole of his foot. It was roughly shaped in the shape of a heart and about three-quarters of an inch in size, the sun gleaming on its light purple exterior.

"Ginny'll like this," he muttered, immediately kicking himself. Ron's silence seemed to become even thicker. Nevertheless, Harry pocketed the crystal and continued to walk to the door.

* * *

Inside the house, Ginny was standing in the hallway with a wash rag in her right hand- which Harry noticed was glowing just slightly white. He set down the grocery bags and walked over to her.

"Hey," he said, kissing her forehead. "What's with your hand?" Ginny instinctively hid it behind her back.

"Oh, I banged my knee into the table while I was cleaning up and healed it," she said, thinking fast. She hated lying to Harry. He smiled, obviously not giving it a second thought. After all, he'd seen weirder things than a glowing hand before.

Then she noticed Ron, who walked stiffly out of the room without a word to either of them. Taking advantage of this, Harry pulled the gift out of his pants pocket. Ginny gasped.

"It's nothing, really," Harry said modestly. "I found it on the road walking home, and I thought you might like it." Ginny glowed as bright as her hand and kissed him.

It felt as if raw bolts of electricity were passing through her body.

This was good- it was part of what made Harry such a wonderful kisser- but she had literally felt a shock, and couldn't decide if she liked it or not.

She pulled away gradually.

"Wow," she said. Harry fixed his glasses compulsively. He noticed she was shaking slightly. "That was-Did you feel that?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"It was like...," he trailed off.

"Do you think..." but Ginny stopped herself. It wasn't possible.

* * *

Dear Ron,

Stop worrying about her. She'll be fine, and you know as well as I do that Ginny's been madly in love with Harry since the first time she saw him- even if she did convince herself that she was over him. They're fine- in fact, don't curse me for saying this, but they'd make a cute couple. I'm more worried about you. Did you finish your homework? I'm sure you're rolling your eyes as you read this, but it's really important for your future. Anyway, I have a pen pal in America who says that she might be coming to Hogwarts next year. Her name's Bella. So, I guess you got what you wanted- an import. I sent you a picture, too. Cheers!

Love,

Hermione

Ron dug his hand inside the paper envelope that pig had sent back and grasped a small, wallet-sized photo. A young girl stared at him who looked about his age. She was pretty, with dishwater-blonde hair layered around her ears.

Her eyes were haunting; almost a shade of odd violet, and her skin was tanned and looked soft to the touch.

A small beauty mark above her upper lip wrinkled when she smiled every few seconds.

Ron stared a moment before shaking himself back to reality.

* * *

The door to the closet opened, and light flooded in. Draco squinted for a moment until his eyes adjusted. Ginny was standing in front of him, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. Small bags gathered under her eyes.

"God, it was raunchy in there," he said. Ginny yanked him out by his hair and pulled him down the hall. "Ow, OW, okay, bad touching, Weasley you b..." he said. Ginny didn't let go.

"Only in your sick dreams will there ever be good or bad touching between you and me- or any girl for that matter, Malfoy," Ginny said. "I hate you," she added.

"Same here, only multiply that by about 17,895 times," he murmured as she pulled him around a corner and up another few flights of stairs. Finally, she let go and let him walk on his own. He rubbed his head and followed her.

"Hell, how big is this over-sized crap hovel?" he asked rudely. Ginny ignored him, Harry's crystal heavy in her pocket. A few seconds, and then-

"Stop staring at my ass, Malfoy."

"I wasn't staring at your ass."

"Yes you were."

"What makes you think that? Your trunk isn't even that impressive, hate to break it to you, weasel," Malfoy drawled.

"I just know," Ginny said hotly.

"Okay, I'll admit I was staring at your bloody ass- which I wasn't!- if you admit that you are attracted by my animal magnetism." Ginny wheeled around and slapped him across the cheek, and Draco dropped to his knees in pain. It was like the life was being sucked out of him all at once, and it was some of the worst pain he had ever experienced.

He felt dizzy and lay on all fours, coughing and gagging. After about a minute, he opened his eyes and saw Ginny with her hand over her mouth, looking slightly scared, but mostly just malicious and proud of her strength. The bags had gone from her eyes, and she now looked very much awake and healthier than she had. But the look on her face turned the world upside down.

She grabbed him by the arm and helped him up, her hatred most definitely not forgotten. He touched his cheek and a sharp flash of pain made him remove his hand.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "I'm sorry. But of course, I'm just saying that because I'm a decent person. I really don't feel one shred of sympathy for you." She placed a finger on his cheek and the pain lessened and Draco saw that the tiredness was returning in her face. He grabbed her hand and pulled it away before she could completely heal him.

"No," he said, standing up and thinking of a quick cover to disguise the fact that he didn't want her hurting herself. "I can't stand for you to touch my skin anymore." Ginny said nothing, and then crossed her arms furiously.

"Since when did you start giving a damn about me, Malfoy?" she asked, seeing straight through his lie. This was the first time anyone had ever been able to do this, and the blonde was slightly shocked. He sneered.

"Since I found out that you can bludgeon me to death with your hand." Ginny grinned maliciously and turned on her heel, walking up the last flight of stairs, which was rickety and thin, into a small, dusty room.

It seemed that Draco would be staying in the attic, and he dropped the bag on his shoulder onto the old bed in the corner.

"What's in that?" Ginny asked, pointing at it.

"Just some stuff my mum had me pick up before she-," he stopped, realizing what he was saying. "It's none of your business, anyway." Ginny could tell that he was hurt, and not just from his expression. The tone of his voice was slightly opaque, despite his attempting to completely cover himself from her.

Not another one, Ginny thought. Draco broke her thoughts when he dumped the bag onto the bedspread. Ginny kneeled on her knees beside him, her hatred still unforgotten, but being drowned by interest and curiosity.

Before her lay a couple of things; a cross wound in two separate strands of thick wire- one a bright amberish, the other a dark opal black, a small pocketknife with a curved point, tiny green snakes made to slither around the side on the silver blade and a symbol in the middle of a dragon head with a snake curling in and out of it, an abundant ring with a large stud of ruby crossing gold sort of like the sides of a ying-yang sign, a small, splendid fountain pen of sapphire with a silver tip, an ancient-looking leather-bound book with a picture of the Hogwarts sign [a badger, a lion, a snake, and a raven enlaced] stamped onto the front, and five necklaces- the first coiled with red and gold, the second green and silver, the third yellow and black, the fourth blue and gray, and the fifth, royal purple and white.

"What's this?" Ginny asked, holding up the pocketknife and looking at the symbol in the center. Draco snatched it away from her and she scowled. "ass." But this thought was quickly erased when Draco pulled up his sleeve to show her the tattoo his father had branded him with when he was born- the exact same as on the knife.

Ginny's mouth fell open.

"God, your family is screwed up. I can almost see why you're such an unthinkably moronic prat, Malfoy. Almost," she said. Draco, instead of shooting back some horrid comment, glared at her for a moment before giving a small nod. Ginny nearly fell back from astonishment.

"I hate him," he murmured, looking at the floor, but catching himself from falling into the grasp of Ginny by pouring his heart out. "But not as much as I hate you." Ginny acted as if to punch him, but thought about before, and refrained.

"So let me get this straight," she said, scratching the top of her head, causing a few strands of fiery red locks to rearrange themselves. "Instead of getting a baby blanket with your name hand-stitched into it, you get... branded?" He nodded again.

Then, in an attempt to change the subject from his heritage and gruesome family, he decided to ask her a question. "You know, you don't much act like a Weasley." Ginny gaped at him.

"What, is the red hair, freckles, tallness, sarcastic comebacks and undying hatred toward all things Malfoy not enough for you?" she asked. Malfoy's expressions didn't change.

"No, you're just-different. And I'm not...necessarily... saying in a good way. You're just- just different," he said, aware that he didn't make any sense.

"You're an idiot," Ginny said for no real reason in particular, just that she despised him.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to have any army camouflage short-shorts, would you?" Draco asked, going for a blind leap into the unknown. Ginny backed her head away from him, her expression as if he had a frog growing in his nose.

Slowly, she shook her head no. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Figures."

"Look, can we just sort through this stuff without talking to each other?" Ginny asked. Draco quieted for a moment or two, before...

"Fine. I'll just talk to myself." Before Ginny could protest, Draco began again. "I'll just go into my own Malfoy land, of beautiful, naked fairies, and hot tarty chicks... and... Malfoy land is where I am king! All hail king Malfoy! Bow down to your lord, naked fairies and hot tarts! Bow! That's right! Bow! B..." But Ginny had slammed the door, shaking her head in dismay at his senseless rambling.

"Lunatic," she whispered, walking down the narrow steps, feeling that she was doing something she would regret for the rest of her life.

The next morning, Ginny woke to find Harry kissing her forehead.

"Ginny," he whispered, not aware that she was already awake. "Wake up." She opened her eyes and smiled listlessly at him, full of content and happiness at forgetting Malfoy.

"Hi," she said. Harry laughed quietly. "What's up?" She noticed that he didn't have his glasses on, and his green eyes were exposed, small locks of messy black hair scattered handsomely across his forehead.

"Your mum left us some money on the living room table, and Ron and I were thinking about going to Diagon Alley and blowing it on ice cream and sleazy chicks. Wanna come?" Ginny rolled her eyes, but her loveable expression made it worthless.

"Is it to buy our supplies?" Ginny asked. Harry shook his head.

"No. I think she just left it for food and stuff." Ginny sat up; pulling on a pair of pajama pants beside her.

"Well then what the hell are we waiting for?" she asked, scrambling out beneath the covers, apparently not aware that she was in sleeping wear. "I may be a tom boy with just enough money to feed a family of mice, but that doesn't mean I don't love shopping!"

* * *

The light in the dusty attic switched on, and Draco squinted before his vision cleared and he saw Ginny standing in front of him.

"We're going shopping," she said briskly.

"I didn't think you had the money," Draco sneered. Ginny raised a hand at him threateningly.

"I can kill you with my bare hand," she said almost proudly. "So if I were you I wouldn't be mouthing off." Draco quieted- something he seldom ever did if someone asked him to.

"Is Hermione going?" he asked before he could stop himself. He cursed inwardly. Ginny looked at him suspiciously.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked. The tiniest of all blushes appeared on Draco's upper cheekbone.

"No reason," he said. "Just wondered if the muggle-born was still passing as a witch." This time, Ginny couldn't help but slap him. Nothing happened except a huge red swell began to grow (and that was from pure non-magical strength), because Ginny had controlled it for the first time.

She had controlled her power.

"Oh, give it up, already," she said exasperatedly. "Let me count thy ways that that sentence was wrong. First off, you can never start off a sentence with just, you mean I, two, you just called her muggle-born instead of mudblood, which you've never done up until last year, and three, you asked me if she was going because you want to see her. Everyone with eyes could tell that you two were friends, no matter how hard you tried to conceal it." Draco opened his mouth in silent protest, and then closed it. There was nothing to say.

But a soft strike of thunder clasped outside the window, and they both turned to look through it. There wasn't a cloud in the sky.

* * *

"Let's stop here," Ginny said as she paused in front of a shop Harry had never seen before, called Dormeina's. In the outer windows, Harry could see all sorts of magically sparkling feminine robes and fashion necklaces. It didn't particularly look masculine to either of the boys, but Ginny seemed to love it.

She raced through the double doors at warp speed, quickly getting lost in the abyss of teenage witches. Harry and Ron reluctantly followed, all too aware that they were the only men in the entire building.

Girls surrounded Harry on all sides (and he couldn't help but think of what Malfoy would do to get in the position that he was); trying on sequin-lined robes, applying magic lip shiner, or examining moving butterfly clips. Ron, as Harry could tell quite clearly from his expression, felt very out of place- as did he.

"Er-Gin?" Harry said cautiously as they finally scouted her out by her flaming red tendrils of hair. She seemed to be in a trance-hypnotized by the fact that she was surrounded on all sides with things she could finally pay for.

"Hmm?" she grunted. Ron cocked his head towards the door as a way of saying run for it. Harry ignored him.

"D-d'you think it'd be alright if me and Ron-,"

"Ron and I," she interrupted.

"Ron and I go to the quidditch supply store across the street?" Ginny turned around, holding up two gleaming outfits- one a backless yellow party dress meant for wearing out on the town, and the other a splendid green ball-gown that flowed out at the hips.

Harry jabbed his finger at the second dress.

"Really?" Ginny said incredulously. "Because I was leaning towards the yellow one."

"Well then why do you even ask?" Ron said. Ginny glared at him.

"I didn't say anything to you." Ron's face began to fluster, and Harry knew that this wasn't about the dresses any more.

"You're right, you never asked for my opinion. But I'm giving it to you anyway. I think the yellow dress is for wearing when you feel particularly like seducing the wearer's brother's best friend into bed, and then casually walking in on the non-suspecting older, wiser sibling and dropping a bombshell on his life." Ginny seemed to swell like a balloon.

"And I think the green dress is for when the wearer is being suffocated by the ass-hole big brother who won't let her walk out of the house without a wool sweater pulled over her neck and thinks that she's still a little kid who can't decide her feelings on her own!"

And it was at that moment that Draco Malfoy, shining blonde hair, silver-blue eyes and all, appeared out of thin air just behind Ron's shoulder.

* * *

Ginny stared at him, her mouth open in shock. Luckily, Harry couldn't see Draco, because he was pretending to look at self-applying make-up a few feet back, obviously not wanting to be a part of the sibling rivalry.

So there she stood, Draco and Ginny staring at each other, Ginny's brother between them.