Tested In Fire

This chapter is especially for Maria, since she requested more romance of the un-smutty kind. There's precious little of it in this chapter, but I respectfully request you wait a few more chapters...

Chapter Sixteen

Ron was having a hard time. He could not move his legs, which, he was told by Madam Pomfrey, was perfectly normal when none of the tendons in his legs were connected.

"Perhaps if you would sit still, young man, and let the medicine do its job, you would heal that much faster," she had said to him just this very morning.

The simple fact of it was that he was bored. There was very little to do in the hospital wing. He had already done all of his homework for the day, thanks to Hermione, who insisted that he get it finished before they moved on to other things.

He had just finished his thirtieth game of solitaire when Ginny burst through his door and landed with a thump on the foot of his bed.

"Morning, brother of mine!"

"Hullo. You do realize that it is five o'clock in the evening, right?"

"Of course, silly."

"You're happy," he observed dryly, and cursed as he began another game on the wrong foot.

"Yeah," she agreed, and began toying with his blanket. "Well, do you want to know why?"

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me, whether I want to know or not."

"I had a dream," Ginny said, ignoring him.

"That's good news?" Ron prompted, confused.

"That's definitely good news. I think I've worked out what that clue in the third prophecy meant."

"Which clue? And how did you work this out from a dream?"

"Well, I would have dismissed it, but you'll have to consider the source, of course. Oh, I rhymed!!"

Ron grinned. Ginny hadn't been this carefree in a long time, and she, at least, wasn't treating him as he were fragile. After all, he'd only been captured and tortured by Death Eaters. He was still alive, which more than a lot of people could say about their encounter with the Dark Lord. "Consider the source? What's your source? Also, I repeat my earlier question. Which clue?"

"The clue about searching for something that the flower wrote."

"Ah, that one," Ron said wisely.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? Oh well. I have to find Harry!"

"He should be in here any minute." The truth of the matter was that Ron didn't want his sister to leave. After all, he'd only been in here a day, but he felt like he was already out of the loop.

"Oh, I'll bet you want to know what's happened since you've been in here! Well, Harry was made Quidditch captain, of course, but he'll want to tell you all about that, forget I said anything, and Hermione has been blushing furiously all day, which means you've done something good for a change, and..."

Her voice, with its rise and fall and predictable pattern, quickly made him sleepy. He fought to hang onto consciousness, but he had a strong feeling that there had been something else in that tea that Madam Pomfrey had given him.

Ginny watched his eyes droop and realized it was her gossip that was doing it to him. So, she continued to talk, something she was good at, until he was snoring gently.

A few minutes later, Ginny heard solid footsteps behind her, and turned around quickly.

"Mum!" She dashed to her feet and ran across the floor until she was safe in her mother's arms. "I hadn't... he's just so tired, and he looks so sick and..."

"I know."

"I made up my mind before I came down here, you know. I wasn't going to treat him like he was an infant, or anything, but I was just talking to him and he couldn't even handle that. He fell asleep."

Mrs. Weasley smiled gently. "Well, at least he's resting, dear. I'm going to sit with him a bit."

"Can I stay with you?"

There was a plea, a reversion to her childhood voice that caught Molly's attention. Last night all of the children had sounded so grown-up it had broken her heart. Now that Ginny was coming to her as a child, it broke her heart as well.

"Of course." That was all she had to say. Ginny pulled up a chair. "I wanted to talk to you about your relationship with Harry, dear."

"It seems like everyone does," Ginny remarked and carelessly pulled a lock of her hair in frustration. "Right now there is no 'us', despite what the prophecy supposedly says."

"You mean to tell me he held your hand in the headmaster's office all that time and there isn't anything between the two of you? I doubt that."

Ginny laughed. "That's all that he has done, Mum."

Ginny raised her eyebrows, and Molly chuckled. "Not to mention he's probably scared."

"What is there to be scared about?"

"Well, I can think of six really good things to be scared about off the top of my head," Molly said with a smile. "Though one of them seems to be a bit out of it at the moment. Then there's me, of course."

Despite her lighthearted tone, Molly kept a close eye on her son, continually stroking his hair soothingly. He was her youngest son, and he had already proven his bravery, courage and strength. She just wished there was another way he could have done it.

"Harry wouldn't be scared of my brothers," Ginny said confidently.

"He would if he were smart," Molly countered, "and that boy's very intelligent, make no mistake about that."

"There's not much that any of them can do. I've made up my mind about Harry."

"It's not that, it's just going to be hard for them to accept that you're growing up and can take care of yourself. It's hard for them to understand that you can feel this kinds of feelings. It's hard for your father to accept, and goodness knows it's hard on me. You're the last of my babies," Molly said fondly. "The last one. I almost lost you."

"What?"

"Well, I was older than I had been the last time I was pregnant, you know. The medi-witches advised against me having another child, even when I was carrying Ron, but I so wanted a little girl." Molly's eyes filled with tears. "I didn't listen to them, I went ahead and got pregnant. I had a near miscarriage with you. Then, when you were born, you were so little. I was afraid you were going to break, even though I'd been through the same thing with your brothers. That's really why they call you 'little one' you know. Because you were so tiny."

"I'm still tiny," Ginny admitted, and grasped her mother's hand. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't want to think about it. Now the Dark Lord's back, and he had Ron. He's had two of my babies, and now you're both back. It's the Weasley stubbornness that got him through it, you know. I'm scared that he wants to have either one of you in his filthy hands again."

The tears in Ginny's eyes spilled over, and the two women cried silently together for a moment in time that neither of them really measured.

"Ginny!" Professor Black called from the door of the hospital wing.

Ginny raised her sore eyes, dried out from crying, and found the strength to answer. "Yes?"

"We didn't see you at supper and we were all very worried. I came up here to find you. One of us was very worried," she added almost as an afterthought.

Molly smiled weakly. "See, what did I tell you?"

"Mrs. Weasley! I didn't see you there," Anna exclaimed. "We haven't been properly introduced, Miss Weasley. Perhaps you would do the honours?"

Ginny stood determinedly and smiled. "Mum, this is Professor Anna Black, she teaches Divination here at Hogwarts. She's my mentor." Mrs. Weasley nodded courteously, and Ginny continued. "Professor Black, this is my mum, Molly Weasley." The two women grinned at each other and shook hands.

"Pleased to meet you, Molly," Anna said, amused at the introduction, and a bit shocked.

"The pleasure's mine, I'm sure, Professor."

"Oh, drop the 'Professor' nonsense. I'm not used to it, by any stretch of the imagination. Call me Anna. I have your son in my class, you know. He's a very creative young man."

Pride burst from Molly, and her face lit up. The effect was astonishing. Anna reflected that Molly was pretty in the sort of neighborhood mum way.

"Arthur and I are proud of him," she said, trying not to sound like those overbearing parents that teachers were always complaining about. "Do you have any children of your own, Anna?"

Anna's face fell. "No, not yet. Remus and I never made it to the altar." At the look of confusion on both of the Weasley women's faces, she clarified, "Remus and I were engaged. There's never been anyone else, not really."

"I understand. It was that way with Arthur and me."

Anna bit her lip to keep from confiding all of her secrets in less than five minutes. These two women radiated an aura of caring and love that was very hard to resist.

"Ginny, why don't you come with me and reassure Harry that you're still alive? It was good to meet you, Molly."

"It was a pleasure," Molly responded.

**

Harry toyed listlessly with his food. Ron was in the hospital wing, and here he was, Harry Potter, eating an almost feast and being congratulated for being nominated and voted in as Quidditch captain. It just didn't seem the same without Ron.

Then, from around the corner, Ginny appeared with Professor Black, talking and gesturing with that wonderful way she had that made everything seem much better. The whole room brightened when she entered, and Harry felt his mood lift noticeably. Waving quickly at Professor Black, she ran towards the Gryffindor table and sat down heavily.

"Hullo, Harry, Hermione. Thank you, Neville. Would you hand me those potatoes, they look marvelous today," Ginny chatted, saying all of this in one breath. Instantly, the conversation at the Gryffindor table lightened immensely. The Gryffindors all seemed to think that if Ron's sister could take what had happened in stride, so could the rest of Hogwarts.

"Where were you, Ginny?" Hermione asked interestedly.

"Oh, I went up and saw Ron. He was conscious for about ten minutes, but now he's resting, thank goodness. Rest is what Madam Pomfrey said he needs more than anything. Then Mum came by to sit with Ron, and I had a talk with her." She clapped her hands at the sight before her. "I'm starved."

Hermione smiled shyly. "How was Ron?"

Ginny grinned. "You know perfectly well how Ron is. You only spent all of last night and your morning break with him."

Hermione blushed. It was amazing, Ginny thought, how love could change you.

"Tell Harry that we love him..." The thought came to her so suddenly it was almost painful. Just a few more minutes, Ginny decided, then she would pull him aside.

"Hermione, I need some help with Muggle Studies," she said on a whim. Hermione would be the person to ask, and she did need help, but she knew that more than anything this was just a way to stall until she could get herself in order.

"Of course," Hermione said, diving in and sitting next to her.

Harry was lost in his own world, and no one could seem to pry him out of it. Seamus and Neville tried to talk to him about Quidditch, and that drew him out briefly.

While they were walking back, Ginny cornered him. "Harry, I need to talk to you. Soon. It's about the prophecy."

"Meet me in the common room," he decided. "In an hour. I have to finish some homework. We'll play a game of chess, all right?"

"I'd like that," Ginny said, and they both went their separate ways.

**

Hermione, on the other hand, headed towards the hospital wing to visit Ron again. She'd never realized how much she leaned on him until he wasn't there every minute of every day. Hugging her books tightly to her chest, she pushed open the door.

"I finished it all already, Mum. Hermione helped me with it when she came in to see me this morning," she could hear Ron saying. "Hermione!"

"No, don't sit up," Hermione said in vain, but Ron was already upright. She stood awkwardly in front of him for a minute, unsure of what to do. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley. Hello, Ron."

"Now that you two are here, I want to hear everything that you two know about this prophecy. Don't leave anything out."

Hermione told the story of everything they knew. "We still have no idea where the second prophecy might be located," she said with a frustrated sigh.

"I think Ginny might be on to something," Ron interrupted. "She came in here to see me, but she was really looking for Harry. She had a message to give him, something about working out a part of the third prophecy."

"She didn't tell me," Hermione mused. "I wonder why."

"I don't know," Ron said crossly. "I just wish there wasn't a prophecy, damn it!"

"Ron!"

"Sorry, Mum. Honestly though, it's got everyone on edge. It's all they can think it about. It's all I can think about. I'm just glad that I'm not a part of it."

"How do you know that?" Hermione shot back. "We could be part of the second prophecy, you know."

"I'm not sure I'd be happy about that. Harry and Ginny don't really have a choice about falling in love."

"Neither did we."

"Yeah, but we don't have to get married and carry on the family name. If we do or if we don't, it won't affect history dramatically."

"Of course it will. Honestly. The way you look at things..."

"Don't 'honestly' me, Hermione. I'm just trying to tell you what I think."

Hermione stamped her foot in frustration. "You think- hah. Now that is funny."

Ron regretted, momentarily, that his mother was in the room. He might have been able to turn this whole conversation around. However, he didn't want to shock his mother. "Hermione..."

"I'm going to my dormitory to think, Ronald Weasley. I'll see you later." With that, she stormed off in a huff.

"She's always going off somewhere to think. If she'd just stop thinking so much, we wouldn't have all these problems..." Ron muttered to himself.

Molly Weasley sat, an amused smile on her face.

"What are you smiling at, Mum?"

"You and that girlfriend of yours. You remind me of someone I used to know," she added.

"She'll come back," Ron said confidently. "Right?"

"Of course, darling. She always will, if you do everything right."

"I'm trying," Ron mumbled. "I'm trying."

Meanwhile, Hermione stomped up to Ginny's dormitory and knocked politely. Ginny opened the door and took one look at her friend's face.

"Did Ron do something wrong?"

"Yes! He irritates me to no end!"

"He always has. That's why you like him so much," Ginny countered. "You like someone that makes you think, that lets you stop thinking every once in a while. Would you really want someone that agreed with everything you said?"

"No! But that doesn't make this any better. I don't psychology, I want sympathy! You know, the good old 'men are bastards, let's kill them all' type of sympathy."

"That's my brother you're talking about," Ginny said, entertained. "Besides, we've never been able to pull that off. We love our boys too much."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed sadly. "Do you ever think we're missing out on something, though?"

Ginny laughed. "Not tonight. Ask me sometime when Harry makes me mad. Speaking of which, I'm supposed to meet him for a game of chess. I hope he's prepared to lose."

"Well, I've got homework. I was too busy helping Ron with his to get mine done," Hermione said and smiled faintly. "Thanks, Ginny."

Ginny merely waved her off and ran down the stairs at full speed. She seemed to have a lot more energy than ever, Hermione thought, and closed the door behind her firmly.

Ginny arrived the common room late. "Well, Harry Potter, prepare to be humiliated," she announced, and sat down dramatically on an armchair across from him, flipping her robes out and straightening her hair.

Harry granted her one of his rare, and growing rarer chuckles. "My move, correct?"

"Right!"

They played in silence for a few minutes, then Harry broke the silence with a confident, "check."

"Hmph," was all the noise Ginny made, but she twirled her fingers in her hair, a nervous habit that, as Harry was learning, meant that she didn't have a clue what to do next. Her chess pieces took this opportunity to shout suggestions at her, until she clicked a long nail on the chessboard, and then they fell silent. She made her move, and then settled back to watch Harry think.

Harry, however, had a different idea. "You had something to tell me?"

"I had a dream last night, Harry." She looked up at him, and her eyes were dark and troubled. "It may sound silly to you, but it made me feel ever so much better."

"I could tell," Harry said dryly. "I promise I won't laugh or anything."

"All right. It was your mother, Harry."

"You talked to my mum?"

"Sort of, she wanted me to tell you that your father and your mother love you very much. She told me to hang on to my love for you."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that, but didn't make a sound. The two of them sat, each of them lost in their thoughts.

"She also told me where to find what she wrote."

"Did she tell you what it was?" Harry asked, snapping to attention.

"No. But she said, 'in all of the years between my terms at Hogwarts and yours, not much has changed. What you're looking for is five stairs up and to the left in a little closet.'"

"Which stairs?"

"I haven't the foggiest. Your mum couldn't be too direct, I think. Something about breaking the rules."

"Breaking the rules! I've got it! I know where it is!"