Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By Moon Weasley

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

Ginny's tale

"It all started with dreams," she began hesitantly. "At first I thought little of it, to tell the truth. I'd wake in the morning only to remember that Oops, I've dreamt of Harry Potter again and silently vow to stop the madness. Not that my mind ever really listens to reason, it's next to impossible trying to control ones subconscious ponderings anyway, but hey a girl could try."

Harry could little do but nod stupidly. Ginny had just agreed to tell him everything about this Strinx-thingy and if the start to her tale was anything to go by it could easily turn out to be the single most embarrassing moment of his life. His face felt so hot he could probably fry things on his forehead and for once it had absolutely nothing to do with his scar. Battling to control his blazing cheeks, Harry silently wondered what was worse; being mentally tortured by Voldemort or eternally mortified by the words of the girl he secretly fancied like mad. At this point Ginny was leading quite comfortably...

Taking no notice of Harry's embarrassment (she had yet to look at him as she spoke) Ginny ploughed on.

"Then one night the dreams suddenly changed. It began shortly after you and Hermione had arrived at The Burrow this past summer. I remember waking up thinking that had to be the most unusual dream I'd ever remembered having. It had seemed unnaturally real for some reason; not at all like dreams normally are." She glanced quickly at Harry offering a weak smile.

"At least my dreams had up till that point always been kind of hazy if you know what I mean. Events most times happening abruptly or going unnaturally slow like you're not getting anywhere."

"Sure," said Harry nodding in recognition. He was rather surprised to hear his voice sounding quite normal if perhaps a bit strained. "Most of my dreams are of the hazy variety, though I do have some dreams that are scarily real, but they usually involve Voldemort and his band of misfits." He shrugged apologetically. Ginny laughed nervously. She sounded oddly high-pitched and Harry felt strangely comforted by this. Discomfort shared and all that rot, he thought absentmindedly before turning his attention back to what Ginny was saying.

"It's not quite the same though," she continued in a small voice, her hands nervously fiddling with her hair trying half-heartedly to gather her red tresses in a pony-tail. "Whenever you have a dream about Voldemort, it's not really a dream but rather a vision."

Harry nodded grimly. "Yeah, unfortunately the things I see always happen in real life."

"Yes, they're real and they're in real time," said Ginny. "My dreams however where most certainly not in real time, because each and every one of the dreams were about you, and you certainly weren't kipping on a cot in Ron's room like I suppose you did at that time of night." She glanced at him hesitantly and Harry gulped.

"They did however turn out quite real," she added dejectedly. "At first the dreams were just about you doing normal everyday things like eating breakfast or practising Quidditch and I thought little more of it. It wasn't really until Ron accidentally threw a garden gnome in your face that I started thinking otherwise." She giggled softly and Harry grinned in remembrance.

"That was painful," he commented dryly.

"I should think so," said Ginny with a shrug. "They might be dim as a house plant but their claws are vicious."

"I'll say," muttered Harry, unconsciously rubbing the attacked spot even though the wound had long since healed.

"I remember watching Ron picking up the gnome and starting to twirl it above the head in his usual fashion. He then turned slightly to, well I suppose attempt is the most fitting term, flirt shamelessly with Hermione and at that point I felt an uncanny sense of déjà vu. I knew what was about to happen. I'd seen it before, in one of my dreams but the notion that it was about to become reality was so shocking that I just froze."

She glanced at Harry apologetically. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you, Harry." Harry simply waved her off. "Forget it, I've survived worse."

"I know," she whispered and he suddenly felt like an insensitive wart. Of course she knew.

An awkward sort of pause followed where Harry nearly stared a hole in the wall trying to avoid looking at the clearly distraught girl at his bedside. If it hadn't been for George's sudden cry of relief who knew how long they would've sat there in silence.

"I guess Alicia's awake," said Harry tentatively. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ginny taking a few deep breaths.

"Yeah," she said shakily. "George sounds happy."

That was an understatement to say the least. He was alternating between loud whoops of joy and heartfelt declarations of love and true to his nature these were delivered in decisively Weasley manner which meant a serious lack of grace and delicacy. Harry didn't quite know whether he was more amused or nauseated. Deciding it was more of the latter Harry opted to try and get Ginny back on track.

"Why didn't you say anything to anyone?"

Ginny snapped her eyes away from the reunion scene at the other end of the infirmary. Her shoulders sagged.

"At first I thought it might be a fluke, you know a one-time thing or better yet a coincident. I still continued having dreams about you after the gnome-hurling-incident but it was just of you doing really mundane and everyday things, so I couldn't really be sure if it were true visions or just figments of my imagination."

She blushed as she said this and once again she directed her eyes away from Harry.

"It wasn't until we returned to school that I started having visions when I was awake. I'd suddenly sort of zone out and when I came to myself again I'd have the vision inside my head - always of you. It almost seemed like the more time I spent with you, the more visions I had. As I said in the beginning it was just innocent things like you reading a magazine or something, but after a while the visions changed."

"How?" asked Harry bluntly? It was obviously rather difficult for her to talk about this, but things had progressed too far as it was without her sharing this information. On one level Harry could sympathize with her; he too had concealed and lied about things in the past, but experience had taught him this seldom lead to good things. Given her past one really should think Ginny would've known better, he thought feeling lightly aggravated.

Ginny sighed heavily. "Gradually the visions began changing from simple everyday situations to more serious incidents. I'd get visions of you stubbing your toe on a threshold, banging your elbow on the desk in Transfiguration-"

"I remember that one!" Harry interrupted with a wince. "I had to bite my tongue to avoid screaming out in agony. McGonagall was in the middle of a complicated explanation and I just knew I'd loose a handful of points if I interrupted her." He shook his head. "Neville had just chased Trevor around the classroom and she was in a terrible mood. That was obviously before Gladrags..."

"Yes it was," confirmed Ginny. Harry noticed her cheeks looked a little pink. "It was just after we had that little collision outside the changing rooms down by the pitch."

She chanced a quick glance at Harry who by now had turned a little pink-cheeked too. "You know when you ended up with my bra-"

"I remember," interrupted Harry squeakily looking absolutely mortified. Ginny fought the urge to giggle. Somehow it didn't seem appropriate.

"Yes, well it was as if that incident kick-started something in me, because in the time that followed the visions changed quite noticeably. I stopped seeing the really mundane stuff, and the ones I had were longer, more detailed and always it would include an event or happening that I knew, if you could choose, you'd erase, do differently or avoid. Simultaneously they became less frequent too, which in many ways was a relief."

Harry's head was spinning. True, he'd suspected for a while that Ginny was a Seer of sorts and consequently also his Strinx, but still it was nothing short of shell-shocking hearing her actually confirmed this. But what was even more shocking was that it had gone on for as long as it had without her saying anything to anyone. Why had she kept this a secret? Harry didn't understand this at all.

"Er, I know I kind of promised not to interrupt you, but there's something I really need to ask you. Can I?"

Ginny squirmed uncomfortably in her chair and even though her entire body language screamed "no", she nodded her head. Harry took a deep breath.

"If this started way back last summer and has sort of escalated throughout the year, why haven't you told anyone? I mean this is hardly a common thing, now is it?"

Ginny swallowed audibly and it looked almost like she was on the brink of crying. Her eyes were suspiciously glassy and her breathing quick and shallow. She was avoiding his gaze and for a split second Harry was sure she was about to flee the room. She didn't though.

"Well?" prompted Harry when Ginny a minute later still hadn't answered his question. Ginny mumbled something unintelligible and wiped furiously at her eyes.

"What?" asked Harry somewhat impatiently? Why was she stalling?

"I said this is embarrassing," squeaked Ginny her voice breaking slightly. "I will tell you, it's just hard!"

Her shoulder's shook with silent sobs and Harry felt like a pile of dung. "Sorry," he said remorsefully. "I didn't mean to push, just take your time." Ginny smiled weakly and mouthed a mute "thank you" when Harry clumsily handed her a handkerchief.

"There're actually several reasons why I didn't say anything," Ginny whispered hoarsely. "My reasoning evolved somewhat as time went and as I learned more about this thing." She gestured jerkily to her head and Harry felt his stomach tightening. She hates being the Strinx. Somehow this notion made him feel very sad.

"But though my motives for not telling changed underway, the core of the matter never did." Ginny's face was now traditional Weasley red. "I didn't tell anyone because it was about you."

Harry's eyes widened. He opened and closed his mouth several times but managed little besides letting out an almost inaudible gurgling sound. What on earth did she mean by that?

Ginny for her part had never felt so completely humiliated before, and that was really saying something considering that she'd lived with the twins for so many years. But not even in their most conniving and malicious moment of pranksterdom had Fred and George managed to evoke this kind of embarrassment in her. In fact Ginny had sped past embarrassment, waved goodbye to mortification and was now knee-deep in degradation. And yet she hadn't even gotten to the crux of the matter.

She chanced a quick glance at Harry. He was doing a pretty respectable goldfish-impersonation that normally would've had her in stitches. Yet there was nothing normal about this conversation, not that it even constituted as a conversation anyway. It was more like really long monologue; or perhaps plea was a more fitting description? Because that was what she was doing: pleading for Harry to understand, pleading for Harry to forgive her, and pleading for Harry not to push her away.

"I'll try to explain this to you," said Ginny with as much dignity as she could muster. "I just hope I don't die of humiliation in the process," she muttered under her breath, taking the time to breathe deeply a couple of times. Harry made another funny sound but it was hard to determine whether it was an amputated chuckle or a sound of disgust. Ginny decided not to dwell on this any longer and plunged right into her explanation.

"I don't think I'm telling you something you don't know when I say that I've had a major crush on you for the better part of my life."

Ginny heard Harry produce yet another indecipherable sound but chose to ignore it. "Ever since mum first told me about The Boy Who Lived I was simply in awe of this brave wonderful kid, and I would daydream about what you might look like, the adventures you'd embark on and I'd always picture myself being right there with you."

She laughed mirthlessly. "Of course deep down I knew perfectly well that I'd never get to know you personally, but I was just a kid with an overactive imagination and a huge little-girl crush on the hero of the wizarding world. Needless to say I was constantly teased by Ron and the twins but that didn't stop my star-struck obsession, far from it."

Ginny was momentarily distracted when the matron suddenly bustled by them in a whirl of pristine hospital robes clutching a generously sized bottle of Calming Draught and wearing an icy glower that would put Hermione to shame.

A minute later she returned after having forced three generous tablespoons down George's throat. He was now tucked firmly into the bed next to Alicia wearing a goofy grin and looking slightly tipsy. Fred and the others seemed to take this as their cue to leave and Ginny watched with racing heart as they got up and shuffled towards the door.

Please don't come over she begged silently. Almost as if sensing her plea Fred looked up and quirked his eyebrows in a silent question whether he should join them. Ginny shook her head frantically and it was a sign of how utterly draining that day had been for all that Fred didn't immediately jump at the opportunity to torment a sibling. With a shrug he stepped through the door and disappeared.

Ginny was safe to continue her tale.

"Needless to say my infatuation far from subsided when it came for a day that amazingly enough Ron was your new best friend. I spent an entire year living solely for the few and far-between letters from Ron that would inevitably contain a fair few titbits about you. I longed for the day when I too would board the train to Hogwarts where I finally would befriend you and more."

Ginny smiled weakly. "Pathetic, wasn't I? Some might even go as far as say I was delusional." Harry made yet another unintelligible sound. Ginny ignored it.

"Then you came to the Burrow that summer before my first year and I don't think it's necessary to tell you how that went." She giggled ruefully. "I don't think I managed to say even a word to you, just the odd squeak now and then. It was that and a lot of clumsy behaviour." She shook her head in self-disgusts.

"But even though I was far from eloquent around you, my crush certainly didn't diminish. I spent every spare moment trailing after you, gazing after you and generally dreaming about you. That year I had two obsessions: you and the Tom-infested diary."

Ginny heard Harry shifting nervously around in his bed. It was obviously almost as embarrassing for him hearing this narration as it was for her telling it. Somehow this brought her a little comfort.

"I don't think I have to remind you about a certain Valentine's Card, do I?" Harry shook his head fervently. "I remember," he said in a small voice. "I always wondered if that really was from you or if it was one of Fred and George's little pranks."

"Sadly I have to admit it was all me," said Ginny apologetically. "I've never been much of a poet," she added dryly and was heartened to hear Harry chuckle softly. At least he wasn't thoroughly repulsed; not yet anyway.

"Then of course you went ahead and saved my life in the Chamber of Secrets, and that in itself gave fuel to my rapidly growing infatuation. Despite the horror of my actions and the nightmares brought on by months and months of Tom Riddle poisoning my mind, what prevailed as the most important thing was the fact that you'd come to my rescue. I was a damsel in distress and you my knight in shining armour. It was just like a fairytale and in my mind I wanted desperately for this fairytale to come true."

She was once again disrupted by Madam Pomfrey as she rushed by Harry's bed, her wand held aloft. Next two beds appeared magically at the other end of the infirmary. Two steps behind her followed Snape busily levitating two stretchers and scowling menacingly in their direction.

Ginny craned her neck to get a look at the unfortunate souls being brought in and had to bite her lip not to break into shrieks of laughter when she identified the injured as Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott of Slytherin House. If that wasn't the work of dear old Fred Ginny swore she'd eat her broom!

The triumphant feeling that Nott and Zabini had gotten what they deserved lasted no more than ten seconds. She needed to complete her explanation and at this rate they would be here all night.

"Even if my crush on you grew I think I became better at hiding it in the time that followed," she began softly. "I stopped trailing you around school, I don't think I acted quite as clumsily around you and I didn't stutter too much. That said I was hardly chatty or at ease around you, but at least I think you stopped feeling so uncomfortable in my presence."

Harry nodded in confirmation. "Those who knew me well saw right through this of course," she added bitterly. "I was still teased mercilessly especially by the twins. Oddly enough Ron backed off a bit, but in hindsight I think that was mostly because he realized it would embarrass you as much as it would me." Ginny snorted. "He's nothing if not ridiculously loyal to you. Anyway, I've lived with the knowledge that half the school and then some are very much aware of how I feel, eh felt about you. When I suddenly started having visions about you; See things in your future, I was torn. Firstly I didn't even know if it was real visions, and on the chance that it wasn't I didn't particularly fancy telling a lot of people about it only to have it thrown back at me that I just said so because I wanted your attention, or that I'm so obsessed that I've started dreaming solely of you."

She stopped her rant, her breath heaving. "I realize this was selfish of me," she added a moment later. "But I don't think you realize how much I've been teased about my crush on you. The twins and Ron I don't care about. I mean that's just sibling squabbling and Merlin knows I give Ron an equally hard time about Hermione, and the twins-" She smiled mischievously. "Let's just say I have enough on them to land them in Azkaban for a very long time."

Harry actually chuckled at that and the sound warmed Ginny's heart.

"It's all the other comments that hurt. And before you say or do anything Harry," she said hurriedly with a stern glance at the boy who were now halfway out of his bed, "that's not what's important now. And even if it was it's not something you should meddle in."

"But-" began Harry but Ginny just shook her head.

"Leave it," she said firmly. "Please," she added more softly when she saw that Harry wasn't backing down. Reluctantly he nodded his head. Ginny sighed deeply. This talk was certainly branching out to include a lot more than she had initially thought and she wasn't entirely sure she liked the direction it was taking. But there was no turning back now.

* * *

Ron was a man on the warpath! Stomping up the familiar path from the Quidditch pitch, his face flushed with anger and eyes blazing murderously he certainly was an intimidating sight to behold. He paused to kick a medium sized stone with all his might across the lawns, imagining it was Max bloody Strober's head. It felt extremely satisfying, yet it would be a million times better when he had the real tosser at his mercy. Nobody messed with his siblings, especially not Ginny, without punishment!

Ron had always known there was something decidedly vile about Max Strober and hearing what his sister had to say about her ex-boyfriend had confirmed this and then some. Now if he could just get his hands on the wanker, he thought longingly, kneading his knuckles in anticipation, then the German would get a much needed lesson on how to treat girls.

Having reached the castle Ron forcefully pushed the doors open and stomped into the Entrance Hall. He narrowly avoided flattening Mrs. Norris and the cat, in its panic to escape, performed an impressive leap to safety landing unsteadily on top of one of the many suits of armour. She mewed loudly in indignation something which Ron knew with absolute certainty would summon Filch in a heartbeat. For a Squib he managed to move around the castle suspiciously fast, Ron noted, but this was not the time or the place to mull over the caretaker's modes of transportation. Ron had more pressing business to take care of, such as pummelling Max into an unrecognisable pile of, preferably bloody, limbs.

He let out a string of profanities that surely would've turned the heads of seasoned patrons at the Hogshead. Not wanting to linger about long enough for Filch to arrive and accuse him of attempting to maim his cat, Ron bolted for the stairs sending poor Luna Lovegood almost toppling over the banister. He vaguely registered her saying something about minding the Gnargle-infested torches or something to that effect and mentally shook his head. "Loony neighbour," he muttered under his breath as he reached the top, turned left and began walking briskly down the corridor.

At least the Sorting Hat had put her in Ravenclaw, thought Ron gratefully. He didn't think he could've handled having her in Gryffindor with all the crazy things she kept going on about all the time. Having her practically living at their house during the summers before Hogwarts had been bad enough, thankyouverymuch.

To be honest, he was the tiniest bit freaked out by Luna, and the fact that she seemed to have some sort of strange fascination with him hadn't exactly made her more endearing in his books. Never the less, Ron still kept some distance to the torches as he walked. For all her craziness, Luna was still a Ravenclaw and they were supposed to be rather intelligent. It was better to be safe than sorry and Ron certainly didn't need anything distracting him from the mission at hand.

He'd already spent a good half hour looking for the git but so far without result. When Ginny had told him about the horrid things Max had said when breaking up with her, he'd wasted no time and promptly exited the hospital wing with only one coherent thought running through his mind: To find and cripple the prat!

It was a damn fine plan in Ron's opinion if it weren't for one tiny snag: He couldn't find the bugger! Grinding his teeth menacingly Ron ploughed on with no real clue where to go. He had a sneaking suspicion that Hermione might be hot on his heels, because it would be a very Hermione-ish thing to do, storming after him and trying to calm him down, and so he was also running out of time.

The Marauder's Map would be handy right about now, he thought bitterly. Harry had explained to him how it had turned up again and helped them find him and Hermione when they were trapped. Now Ron was nothing but grateful for that, and he hated to think about what fate they would've had if it hadn't been presented to Dumbledore and the teachers, but damn it, it was just so wrong for something that good to be in the hands of professors. Somehow he couldn't see Sirius being particularly happy about that.

All thoughts about the confiscated map disappeared as fast as food on his plate when he suddenly realized he'd reached the library. Not too keen on actually entering the place Ron settled for sticking his head through the door and giving the room a quick scan. Nope, Max wasn't there. Swearing under his breath he was about to retract his head when someone glided soundlessly in front of him. A beak-nosed, bespectacled and highly annoyed someone if the scowl was anything to go by. Ron silently cursed whoever invented the Pussyfoot Charm. A confrontation with Madam Pince was not on his agenda for today and before she'd let out so much as a hiss, he grinned cheekily, gave her a mock salute and rushed down the corridor.

Ten minutes later he was standing inside a very boisterous common room. A lively victory party was in full swing and none of the participating Gryffindors seemed too bugged that very few members of the Quidditch team were in attendance. Or perhaps they hadn't even noticed Ron thought with a huff. Fred certainly was partying for three that much was certain. Ron watched in fascination for a moment as he juggled five bottles of Butterbeer and Colin Creevey's camera without magic much to the fourth year's evident distress. This display could only mean that Alicia was alright and Ron would be very surprised if certain Slytherins hadn't gotten what was coming to them as well. Something about the very rowdy manner Fred was hopping around the room suggested he and George had been off practicing the philosophy of an eye for an eye. That or Fred was just the tiniest bit tipsy. Or both.

A strenuous track around the room later and Max was still not found. Fighting off Seamus (who was thoroughly sloshed!), Ron stepped angrily out of the common room. He slammed the portrait hole shut drowning the sounds of the party and let out a frustrated growl. Where was Max hiding?

I should just send the prat an owl, thought Ron angrily as he rounded a corner and took extra precaution not to walk directly under the torch. Then he could just follow the bird and it would lead him straight to him. The plan was bloody brilliant if it weren't for one tiny hitch: It wasn't particularly easy following owls, not even on a broom and especially not around Hogwarts. That and Ron had a feeling Dumbledore might've set up a ward against it. Barking, that man.

Ron stopped dead in his tracks and clasped a hand to his forehead. Of course! The Owlery! Ron broke into a run.

* * *

Harry's insides were shaking with ill-concealed anger on Ginny's behalf. Sure, he'd sort of gathered that she'd been a bit taken with him when she first began Hogwarts, but after the incident with the Chamber of Secrets he'd thought little more of it. She hadn't been a prominent figure in his life in the years that followed and Harry hated to admit it but he'd more or less ignored her all that time. She'd just been Ron's sister; to some extent just a part of the décor at the Burrow in the way that he acknowledged her existence but not much more. Sure he talked to her on occasion about mundane stuff but not once had he ever noticed or mulled the possibility that she still had a mad crush on him.

But the knowledge that so many other people had noticed and teased her about it was making him very agitated. Firstly because he simply hated the notion that she'd been hurt and humiliated because of her feelings and secondly because he'd been too dense a prat to notice. Harry felt like hitting something in frustration but settled for shredding several of the Chocolate Frog Cards into fine-powdered confetti. It was no wonder Ginny had kept things a secret at first. Harry did after all know a thing or two about being talked about behind one's back.

Ginny had fallen silent and by the look of things she seemed to be thinking hard about something. Don't chicken out on me now, thought Harry feeling spasms of panic jolting down his back. He faked a cough to get her attention, and when her eyes met his, he tried his best to plead and encourage her to continue. To his astonishment Ginny managed a slight lopsided smile, and in that moment Harry was astounded at how much she reminded him of Ron. The more he got to know her, the more layers of her personality were revealed to him. Lately Harry had come to the conclusion that she in many ways was a mix of her brothers' best qualities; a sort of ultimate Weasley. There was no longer any reason to deny that Harry Potter was completely and utterly besotted with Ginny Weasley.

Engrossed as he was in thoughts of the loveliness that was Ron's sister it took him a couple of shakes to notice that Ginny was talking again. Shaking out the cobwebs of his love-addled brain Harry struggled to concentrate on what she was saying. It was hard, 'cause though his brain wanted to pay attention to her words, his eyes were betraying him, too wrapped up in staring at Ginny's moist, full and too-sexy-to-be-allowed lips and loving every moment of it. It took every ounce of his willpower to tear his attention away from the tantalizing mouth and refocus his attention to what she was telling him.

"- decided I had to try and find out why this was happening. I started searching the library during my free time, but you've seen the place, I mean Hermione marches you in there all the time, and it's huge. It was taking me forever going through it and the more time that passed the more frustrated I was feeling. It was almost like something was driving me to search for information and at one point I could hardly sleep so intense was the need to have more knowledge."

She inhaled deeply and smiled hesitantly at Harry. "That's when I started sneaking down to the library at night. That definitely sped things up because I could work uninterrupted but then - "

"_ then Hermione caught you on one of her Prefect patrols," Harry interrupted. He smiled sheepishly. "Me and Ron overheard you when you returned to the common room, you know."

"I gathered as much," said Ginny dryly. "Ron gave me the third degree the next morning. He's not exactly subtle," she added curtly. Harry sniggered. "No, he's more like a human Bludger to be exact." Ginny snorted. "That's a fitting description actually."

They grinned stupidly at each other for a few seconds and for a moment of two Harry actually forgot what it was they were in the middle of. A muffled moan from across the room however brought the reality crashing back. Harry dearly hoped it was one of the Slytherins and that the pillock was in great agony.

"Er, I always kind of wondered what you'd been up to that night," Harry stuttered nervously, taking extra precaution not to look at Ginny and silently cursing himself for blushing profusely.

"Really?" There was something odd in Ginny's voice as she said this. Hopefulness perhaps? Or maybe that was just his imagination pulling tricks on him. Merlin knew it had been doing that a lot recently.

"Yeah, but I never really considered you might be studying or doing research. Not of books anyway," he added in a mumble. Ginny sucked in a breath and Harry knew she'd heard him. But she didn't pursue the matter and so he happily dropped it. The way his heart was beating a mile a minute he'd be lucky if he'd live through this conversation without having a major coronary. Somehow he didn't think Madam Pomfrey would like that very much.

"It was most unfortunate that Hermione caught me that night," Ginny continued sounding almost miffed. "I could feel I was close to finding something, and then suddenly out of nowhere there was Hermione jabbing me in the chest and flourishing her prefect badge like a miniature McGonagall." Harry watched in fascination as Ginny visibly bristled in her chair. She must have sensed his eyes on her because she gave him a fleeting look and shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry about the rant, it's just that it was a real frustration for me at that point. Everyone, and by everyone I really mean everyone," she added pinning him with an accusing glare, "persisted in keeping an annoyingly close eye on me after that and I had to restrict my nightly wanderings to a bare minimum. I still hadn't found anything substantial to explain what was happening to me and I was reluctant to come forward for the reasons I've already given you. That and..."

Ginny trailed off and seemed to be steeling herself for whatever she was going to say next. Somehow Harry had a queasy feeling he wasn't going to like it.

He was right.

"What?" he probed in what he hoped was a suitably encouraging tone. Ginny was chewing on her lower lip looking very nervous. Harry dearly wished she'd stop that. It was very distracting, not to mention sexy and was starting to affect him in some highly unwanted not to mention horrendously improper ways. Thankfully she stopped.

"This won't sound good," she began hesitantly, "especially considering certain events of my first year." Alarm bells were already going off inside Harry's head. "But at that point it almost felt as if there was some invisible force guiding me, encouraging me to seek information; knowledge."

Harry's eyes bugged out and judging by the way the veins on his forehead were pulsing at an alarming pace, Ginny knew he was about to explode with pent up anger, frustration and perhaps also - protectiveness?

"Calm down, Harry," she soothed hurriedly, laying a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and she hastily removed it, her cheeks ablaze. Was he that repulsed by her? Feeling her courage leaking out of like a punctured balloon, she quickly pushed all emotion aside. She needed to tell him this now. They could deal with the bruised feelings and broken hearts later.

"I later found out that this is a common trait for people with my kind of gift. The ability does usually lie dormant until adolescence kicks in and any sudden urges to do things like seek information or keep close to certain people is a way to subconsciously learn and ultimate embrace and control it."

"Still sounds dodgy to me," muttered Harry darkly. The veins were still throbbing Ginny noticed.

"I thought this was rather spooky too," she said placidly, "but I knew I wasn't fooling about with any artefacts that could posses dangerous powers, I wasn't taking any sort of potions that might affect me, hadn't been hit with any dodgy spells or hexes. I wasn't afraid this time, not like with the diary. I was terrified in general about the visions and embarrassed by what it really might mean but throughout the whole thing I never felt that I was in any danger. I'm still here aren't I?" she added light-heartedly in a lame attempt to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

"Yeah," Harry replied in an unreadable tone, "you are. But for the record I want you to swear that you'll never keep secrets like this again." The intensity of his words shook her and Ginny couldn't help but gasp as shivers ran down her spine. Good shivers; pleasant even.

"I promise," she complied readily. At this moment she felt she could deny Harry Potter preciously little.

"Good, now please continue." Naturally she obliged.

"As I was saying earlier I had to cut back on my nightly library sessions and with these overpowering urges to get information I had a really hard time off it. I was barely able to sleep, and my days were spent thinking up ways to secure time to search. It was exhausting and I know I must have seemed off at times. I certainly felt off, and the visions were getting clearer and along came a new urge to confront you and warn you. Of course I knew this would eventually cause suspicion, but I was so tightly wound that my resistance were literally crumpling."

"The cup of hot chocolate," said Harry. "That was the first time you warned me wasn't it?" Ginny nodded.

"Yes it was, and believe me I regretted it profusely later. You didn't even take my warning seriously and all I managed was to raise your suspicion."

"You know, when you came over that night I'd just been talking to Ron about you. I thought you looked a bit under the weather. Guess I was right about that then."

Ginny's cheeks blossomed pink. He'd noticed! Something stirred inside her and if she wasn't much mistaken it was a fresh batch of what felt suspiciously like hope. Could he...? She quickly quelled the notion. Of course not, what a silly idea really. She really was pathetic.

"My next vision I had right in front of you," she blurted out, most eager to distract her inner musings from getting horribly off track.

"Hah," said Harry triumphantly. "On the way to Quidditch practice, right? That was scary," he added in an undertone making Ginny's heart kick start once again racing at top speed down what she was certain would be Heartbreak Avenue. She knew that street well.

"Yes it was scary for me too. I knew you'd be extra suspicious after that not to mention curious and I was right too. You kept hounding me about these incidents after that."

"Do you honestly blame me?" countered Harry indignantly. "One of my best friends suddenly begins to act strange and evasive around me, she keeps on warning me about shit that she really shouldn't know will happen and then refused to explain a damn thing. Mostly we were just worried about you, Ginny. You should've come to us about this. We would never laugh at you no matter what."

"Ron would," she bit back defensively and Harry sighed deeply.

"Course he would, but that's just because he cares about you, Gin. I've been told teasing is the way siblings show they care for each other." Ginny only shrugged in reply knowing of course that Harry was right. Ron was a prat 99 percent of the time, but at least he wasn't a malicious prat.

"Thanks by the way."

Ginny's head whipped up in surprise, the confusion visibly written all over her freckled face. Harry smiled strangely causing her breath to catch.

"For attempting to save me from the Bludgers," he added in explanation.

"One of them still hit you, though." She couldn't even look at him. She'd failed him that day and that realisation hurt.

"Yeah, it did," he agreed pleasantly, "but one bump is considerably better that two, and besides it landed Malfoy and one of his goons in a lot of trouble. That's worth a lump or two in my books."

"You're strange, Harry Potter."

"You're hardly one to talk, Weasley," he quipped and Ginny blushed yet again. Would her blood flow ever recover from this?

"Now, stop stalling and tell me more about this thing of yours." Ginny swallowed audibly before complying.

"The next time I had a vision something entirely unexpected happened. The vision wasn't about you; in fact you weren't even present." Harry raised one eyebrow in a clear invite to go on.

"The vision was about me," said Ginny reluctantly. "I saw myself holding a book in my hands. It was an old and tattered leather bound book and when I awoke from the trance I knew with absolute certainty that it was what I was seeking, what I had been wearing myself thin over finding. But still I knew nothing about where to find it. In my vision I was standing in front of a huge bookcase but Hogwarts is filled with bookcases, so I didn't feel as if this vision had helped me at all."

She smiled tiredly. "Turns out I wouldn't have to wait long to find it." Harry almost fell out of the bed and it was just his Seeker reflexes that saved him from a rather brutal rendezvous with the infirmary floor.

"You actually found it?" He looked absolutely gobsmacked and it wasn't an entirely unappealing look on him Ginny decided. She nodded stupidly, her brain partly addled by the endearing charm of a slightly confused Boy Who Lived.

"Mhm, the very next day you brought me, Ron and Hermione to see Dumbledore telling him about your latest Voldemort dream. I hate to admit it but I don't think I heard half of what you were saying that day. I was so distracted because it was as if the very air around me was humming with magic. It was calling me you see, the book. I had to go to it and I didn't even have to search for it because suddenly I recognised the bookcase from my vision."

"Holy Cauldron!" gasped Harry. "Now I remember it. Dumbledore caught you flipping through one of his books, didn't he? Was that the one?"

"Yes it was," whispered Ginny. "He startled me just as I'd opened the book and I dropped it to the floor in pure shock. I remember how utterly embarrassed I felt right then, being caught prying through the headmaster's private books. I think I probably would've died of humiliation if I hadn't spotted something rather mind-goggling. The book had landed on its back and it was opened to a page about halfway through. It was a drawing and it sent my pulse raising a mile a minute. I knew there and then that I had to have that book and would use any means necessary to secure this goal."

"How did you manage that then?" asked Harry impatiently. "Didn't he tell you students weren't allowed to borrow his books or something like that? That Pince would get her knickers in seriously worse knot then they already are if she caught wind of something like that?"

Ginny felt her entire body turning the traditional embarrassed Weasley-red and silently cursed her gene-pool. Squirming in her seat she reluctantly nodded her head. "Yes," she half-heartedly admitted. "He made that perfectly clear and I never bothered asking him anyway. I tried my hardest to forget about it, and for short stretches of time I was successful." She sighed deeply. "But then another vision would hit me and I'd be right back to square one. The New Years Ball was distracting enough for a while with all the hoopla and tension about dress robes, dates and whatnot." She glanced nervously at Harry who was looking at her with a nerve-wracking intensity. It made her shudder and falteringly she continued. "I had another vision that night, but I think you'd already puzzled that out for yourself."

"Oh yes," replied Harry dryly. "You gave me a nice, cryptic warning about watching out for rain. Really helpful that was." The sarcasm was evident yet still Ginny asked. "Really?"

Harry snorted incredulously. "No," he answered bluntly. "How was I supposed to know you were equating Peeves with a bloody rain cloud? Honestly!"

Ginny managed to stay silent for all of three seconds before she burst out in loud guffaws.

"It's not funny," sulked Harry in a ridiculous whiny voice causing Ginny to laugh even harder.

"Yes it is," she piped out between chuckles. Immediately after she clasped a hand over her mouth hoping both to quell her laughter and stop more lines like the latter to spill forward. She didn't want to summon Madam Pomfrey or cause more damage to her relationship with Harry. As it turned out she needn't have worried about the latter.

"I suppose it is sort of amusing," admitted Harry with a slight chuckle. Ginny's smile broadened to accommodate an over-large hippopotamus. "Oh, definitely yes," she readily agreed. Harry's eyes crinkled merrily and for a brief moment the seriousness of their conversation was forgotten. In Ginny's opinion they needed the break.

"The water balloons came with a very catchy tune too," added Harry mock-seriously. Ginny arched an eyebrow and folded her hands neatly in her lap. "How lovely, you don't suppose a recap of the song would be possible?" Harry shook his head with a tut.

"Sorry, Weasley but that's pushing it. You have to earn that right." He looked at her challengingly and she knew with absolute certainty that the break was over.

"Oh, yeah sure," she said haltingly struggling for a moment to remember what she'd last told him. Clearing her throat she hesitantly resumed the awkward confession.

"After the ball I went back to searching the library hoping against hope to find another copy of the book I'd seen in Dumbledore's office there. It took me ages to go through the parts I hadn't already searched before Hermione caught me and by the time I had finished I'd had yet another vision."

She laughed mirthlessly, tossing a wayward piece of hair over her shoulder. "This time is was something as pathetic as a leaky pen, and though I struggled wholeheartedly not to confront you this time, I once again succumbed to the urge building inside me. It was like fighting a loosing battle within. I knew you were beyond suspicious and I felt it was only a matter of time before you'd start demanding answers."

She paused briefly to gather her wits. They were nearing the crux of the matter now and her nerves were far from cool and collected, that much was sure. How would he take it? The answer was just minutes away; a few moments of torture and then she would know, for better or worse, how Harry felt. The thought was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

"You're right about that," said Harry evenly but Ginny still heard the slight edge to his voice. It didn't bode well. "I wasn't the only one though," he added and she felt her insides instantaneously turn to ice. Had he discussed all this with Ron and Hermione? Had they all been talking about her behind her back? Of course they have, a snide voice mentally sniped at her. Honestly, they were the bloody trio after all. Ginny concentrated to keep her breathing calm and slow, hoping to avoid the panic attack she felt building up in the back of her mind. She'd just loose it completely if Ron, the tell-tale bastard had owled their mother! Not that she seriously believed him to have done so. That was the sort of thing Percy would do, and thankfully there was preciously little of Percy in Ron.

"No?" she asked shakily. "You three discussed me then, did you?" Relief washed over her as she watched Harry shake his head.

"Not specifically no," he confirmed, "but I know my friends well enough to realize what they're thinking. I mean Hermione's a freaking genius, of course she was on to you, and Ron, well he might be a bit dense at times but after our second year he's been paying a particularly close eye on you." Ginny's eyes bugged out and Harry chuckled.

"Surprising isn't it," he said playfully, obviously savouring her shocked reaction, "realizing that Ron has more depth than you give him credit for."

"I'll say," she muttered distractedly. "Don't say he's been reporting to mum all this time!"

"Oh no, nothing like that," said Harry reassuringly. "He only does it to ease his own worry I think. He was really shaken up after the Chamber of Secrets, feeling as though he'd personally failed you. I doubt even Hermione knows he's doing this," said Harry with a sad smile. "It's a guilt-ridden thing you see and I know the signs well."

Ginny could little do but nod stupidly. This certainly was a night for revelations!

"Let's go back to the leaky pen," suggested Harry and Ginny quickly agreed.

"Alright, like I said I later really regretted warning you about that."

"I'm don't!" said Harry bluntly. Ginny was so taken aback by this comment that she nearly slipped off the chair. She'd been slowly inching towards the tip of it as her story progressed and her nerves became more frayed.

"Why?" she asked shakily, unable to phantom the reason behind Harry's outburst.

"Because thanks to that incident we finally received a useful hint about what was happening to you not to mention this whole prophecy-mess with Krum's grandmother," he explained looking shockingly unfazed. Ginny felt anything but.

"Your now ex-boyfriend," Harry continued smoothly with only the barest hint of smugness, "overheard the whole thing and of course he found it utterly amusing. I swear Ron was about to hex him something good, when he suddenly said something that caught our attention."

Ginny's voice was not working. She struggled to raise her eyebrows in a silent plea to tell her before she lost all control over her body. Harry ploughed on, clearly on a roll now. "Apparently he too had noticed that you had developed a tendency to warn me of dangers lurking just ahead. He said something like "She's almost Strinxish!"

Ginny gasped. He hadn't! How could he know about that? Not that it mattered really, but had Harry known this whole time about her being the Strinx and not done anything? That surely was a sign if there ever was one that he didn't feel the same way that she did. Though she felt dead inside, she struggled to mould her face in a neutral expression.

She tried valiantly to speak, but all that came out was a cramped squeak. Harry however didn't pay her any mind. "Naturally we rushed off to the library, but where met with closed doors and a very unaccommodating Pince. I swear she's got something against us," he added huffily making Ginny want to pull her hair out in frustration. "I mean she's down right mean to me and Ron, and okay so maybe we've sort of rubbed her the wrong way a time or two but banning Hermione I tell you! That's just not right!"

Still not in control of her vocal chords all Ginny managed was a frustrated growl. Harry stared at her oddly for a few seconds before he finally caught on. She wasn't interested in their personal war with the Hogwarts Librarian, not even a smidge and certainly not today of all days. Harry grinned sheepishly making Ginny roll her eyes in the best get-on-with-the-story way she knew how.

"Sorry," he offered with a shrug," it's just that she's been on our case all year. Anyway, we returned the next day and immediately set up camp in the Divination section. It took some time but eventually Hermione found a reference to this Strinx-thing. Giddily we checked the book out and rushed off to read it in private." He sighed deeply and leaned further back into the pillows. "In truth it was a bit of a let-down really, that book."

Ginny's heart was thundering so loudly she felt it was a wonder Madam Pomfrey hadn't kicked her out for disturbing her patients.

"How's that?" she managed to croak out relieved to feel that her voice was back. Well, sort of anyway if you were willing to overlook the fact that she sounded like Filch with a nasty head cold.

Harry let out a mirthless bark. "Would you believe the crucial page, the page with information about the Strinx was missing? Torn out it looked like. Rotten luck that was," he muttered darkly.

"I would believe that, yes," said Ginny with all the calm she could muster. It wasn't much.

"Huh?" Harry looked at her quizzically for all of one, two, three seconds. Then it dawned on him.

"You did it."

It wasn't a question. Ginny mentally squared her shoulders and slowly met his accusing eyes.
"Yes," she said flatly.

"For crying out loud why, Gin?" snapped Harry, his voice growing alarmingly near Pomfrey-radar-limits. Ginny knew the time to finally fess up and lay the cards on the table had arrived. Harry summoning the matron would seriously muck it up and in a desperate attempt to calm the harried Boy Who Lived down she laid a hand on his. It worked - sort of.

"I'll explain," she said imploringly willing him to look at her; to believe her. This time there would be no half-truths, no attempts to avoid the issue, no lies. Harry looked less than convinced and who could blame him the way she'd been keeping secrets for almost a whole school year. This would be harder than she'd imagined and that was hardly a comforting thought. But she was beyond the point of no return.

It was time.

* * *

The constant stream of German gibberish pouring out of the owlery came as no surprise to Ron. The moment the idea had struck him he just knew Max would be here, no doubt about it. And judging by the very aggravated-sounding gabble washing over him as he slowly opened the age-worn and crooked door, he was dead on.

Bedlam reigned behind the door. Owls of all size and colour were whizzing through the air, wings flapping angrily, aggrieved hoots spilling from snapping beaks. In the middle of the circus stood Max - correction crouched Max, arms flapping madly about in a vain attempt to shoo off the birds. Ron shook his head in disgust. Now he was hardly the most animal-friendly wizard around but even he knew how to handle a flock of normally very docile owls. Spotting the unnaturally small Pig in the middle of the fray being whipped about like Quaffle Ron decided enough was enough.

"Oy, Strober!" he called out causing Max to whirl around so abruptly he smacked two tawny school owls to the ground causing a fresh wave of hoots and snapping beaks to assault him. Ron shook his head. The guy was utterly useless.

Without thinking he raised his right arm pointing it at Max. The next moment Max let out a surprisingly girlish shriek as his feet left the ground and he zoomed out the door and into the narrow corridor. Another wave of his hand and the door slammed closed effectively blocking out the enraged herd of birds. Next second Max crashed to the floor with a loud thud. It looked quite painful Ron thought and he had to give the git credit for not crying out. At least he wasn't a total wimp.

Restraining himself from pounding on the seventh year straight away, Ron leaned against the wall folding his arms across his chest.

"You're lousy with birds, Strober," he said condescendingly. "Don't you have owls in Germany?"

Max struggled to his feet and began the tedious process of removing the feathers and owl droppings that were clinging to him everywhere. He was fighting a losing battle and Ron silently marvelled why someone only a few weeks shy of graduating wizard's school didn't think to just use a cleaning spell. Not that he cared anyway; it just seemed stupid doing it like this.

"Well?" asked Ron again, this time unable to hide his growing irritation.

"Well what?" snapped Max distractedly pulling out a large lump of owl excrements from his hair.

"The owls, dungbrain," said Ron through clenched teeth. "Don't you use owls where you come from? You're shite with them, always upsetting them."

"No, as a matter of fact we don't use owl back home. The German Ministry of Magic banned the use of owls several decades ago, opting for Ravens instead. Apparently they're faster and less attached to their owners. Less fuss in other words."

"A lot of tosh if you ask me," said Ron scathingly. "But I guess it does explain your dismal owl-treatment."

"How do you know anyway, Weasley?" asked Max suddenly a lot more suspicious-sounding. "How do you know I'm rubbish with owls? If this is the first time you've seen me handle these birds then you'd have no reason to jump to that conclusion. It could very well be an accident on my part."

Ron simply waggled his eyebrows and smirked. For a brief moment he wondered if this was how Malfoy felt every time he picked on them, showering them with is arrogance and conceit. If so he could somehow understand the attraction, at least on one level. It was a power-trip that much was certain...

"Maybe I've observed you before or maybe I haven't," he began breezily and watched with mounting satisfaction as Max seemed to pale somewhat. "That discussion however has to wait just a tick, though. You see I have a slight hen to pick with you about certain developments between my sister and you."

Obviously sensing where this discussion was heading Max dashed for the stairs, but Ron was too quick having anticipated the move. Another wave of his hand and Max were once again zooming through the air. A moment later he was sitting on a barrel, his arms and legs securely bound by magical ropes. Ron had thankfully had the presence of mind to use his wand and speak the incantations for that part. If Max was as untrustworthy as he thought it didn't do to have him notice certain gifts...

"You've gone mad, Weasley," snarled Max struggling fruitlessly against the restraints.

"Should've thought about that before you went ahead and broke my baby sister's heart you great sod," replied Ron angrily. He was circling the German slowly silently debating the best way to forever imprint his lesson: Never hurt a Weasley!

"What are you on about?" Max sounded honestly confused. Ron stopped momentarily glaring daggers at the bloke. How dared he try and act innocent with him? Ginny had been very clear about the break-up and the words that had been exchanged. She must've known he'd track the bastard down and hurt him, so why would she say it if it weren't true? Ginny might be a vindictive and conniving wench now and again, but cruel and malicious was not in her repertoire, that Ron was sure of.

"I'm talking about the appalling way you broke up with Ginny!" he roared causing Max to shrink back and flinch. "Though I admit I was never particularly pleased about you two going out-"

"That's an understatement," Max interrupted heatedly. "You looked fit to kill when you found out, and if McGonagall hadn't-"

"Did I say you could speak?" snapped Ron jabbing Max painfully in the chest with his wand. "I don't care that you've broken up, no wait a minute that came out wrong. Let me rephrase: I'm bloody ecstatic that you've through, but that does not mean I'm happy about the way it went down."

"But," began Max desperately. He was staring at Ron his face a mixture of annoyance and confusion. "But it was a mutual break-up! How can you object to that? Are you upset because Ginny didn't dump me?"

Ron was goggling. This wanker was so full of shit it made most Slytherins look benign and cuddly in comparison. And that was most certainly not a compliment!

"Mutual? Mutual break-up?" Ron had to stop his pacing to fully focus on calming down. His whole body was tingling and he could feel the wandless-thing building inside him. If he didn't get his emotions under some sort of control soon he honestly didn't know what would happen. A few deep breaths later and he felt safe to go on with his tirade.

"You're telling me that dumping a girl and then proceeding to actually tell her that she makes you sick, qualifies as a mutual break-up?"
"What?" yelled Max heatedly? "You've got your facts mixed up, Weasley. We did in fact agree that it was best to break up, although I certainly didn't want to. I fancy her like mad, but the fact still remains that every time we spend time together my stomach physically acts up. It had just gotten to a point were we couldn't even be in the same room without feeling queasy."

Ron stared at Max as if he'd just grown two extra heads. "Do you realize how totally daft that sounds?"

"Yes," answered Max resignedly, "but that doesn't change the fact that it's true. Surely you noticed that I was totally off today during the game?"

"Course I did!" spat Ron. "You were shite on a broom, Strober and if I'd had a reserve Keeper believe me he or she'd been on the pitch today instead of you."

"Don't you get it then," asked Max imploringly? "I was perfectly fine this morning during our warm-up session, but then Alicia was hexed and couldn't play and-"

"-and Ginny had to take her place," finished Ron flatly. "So every time she flew over to your end of the pitch then you became nauseous, is that what you're telling me?" Max nodded his head so viciously he almost lost his balance and toppled of the barrel.

"You could've been faking it for all I know," Ron added accusingly but some of the wind had gone out of him. "Maybe the Slytherins paid you off to loose the match."

"My dad's the second richest wizard in German," answered Max tiredly, "why would I care about pocket change?" Ron could offer no smart replies to that, something which silently irked him beyond words. Smart retorts were, after all his forte. No scratch that; snappy, somewhat-sarcastic and more-often-than-not-rude retorts were his forte. The smart ones were Hermione's bag of cauldron cakes not his, something which this entire conversation was a testament to. Ron detested not having the last word.

A silence fell between them and for a while the only sound was that of the still upset owls chirping and hooting up a storm behind the closed door. After a while Max became impatient and began struggling against the magical ropes. Ron didn't seem to notice, or if he did he didn't care. Finally he broke the silence.

"I've never heard of anyone begin- eh allergic - to another person." He pierced Max with a suspicious glare causing the irate German to groan in frustration.

"Neither have I," he yapped snappishly. "But the fact still remains that every time I went near her or touched her I began retching. It was quite painful actually," he added in a softer almost sad voice. "And by that I don't mean just the retching. It hurts not being able to be with the one girl you've ever fancied. But it couldn't go on. I wasn't the only one to get sick; Ginny experienced the exact same thing."

Ron was openly gaping now, his lower lip approximately level with his knee caps. She hadn't said anything about that in the hospital wing, the batty witch that she was! Not that he'd stuck around long enough to let her finish the sentence mind, his inner voice of reason chided sternly. It sounded eerily like Hermione.

"I asked the matron about it but she'd never heard of a case like this before," continued Max morosely. "It's almost as if fate's against us or something. Like we're not meant to be together."

Max looked so thoroughly heartbroken that Ron felt all of his anger and resentment for the git melt away. With a lazy flick of his hand he released the ropes and instantly felt like whipping himself for being so careless about his wandless magic. He needn't have worried though. Max appeared too wrapped up in his own misery to notice anything or anyone around him.

Poor sod, Ron thought emphatically as he did a one eighty heading for the stairs. He could just imagine how he'd feel if he'd suddenly begun to spew every time he was near Hermione. In fact that notion was so depressing Ron almost forgot that dating his sister was only one of the reasons why he'd never exactly warmed up to Max much.

Mentally chiding himself he spun around and strode up to Max again causing the boy to jump nervously on the spot.

"What?" he asked dejectedly eyeing Ron wearily, a haven't-you-bothered-me-enough-look plastered across his handsome face.

"There's just one more thing I want to know," said Ron imploringly, ignoring Max' groans. "I want to know why you've been keeping a close eye on Harry lately and who on earth it's so important to owl that you come up here regularly terrorising these poor creatures."

Max visibly paled and Ron grinned triumphantly. Max was up to something, no doubt about that and by Morgana he wouldn't leave the tosser alone until he knew what it was.

Ron Weasley: 1, Hermione Granger: 0.

* * *

Ginny was sure she was about to have a coronary. Surely one's heart wasn't suppose to beat this ungodly fast unless it was about to explode or implode or whatever it was hearts did when they seized to work. Her hands were clammy and cold, her forehead covered in sweat. These were all signs of serious health-problems yet she knew deep within that there was nothing physically wrong with her.

This is ridiculous a stern voice inside her head chided. You're a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake! It's time you showed it! For some reason the voice sounded frightfully like Hermione Ginny noted absentmindedly. She found it oddly fitting and wondered fleetingly if this was how one's inner voice of reason sounded to all people. She wouldn't be surprised if it was.

Appalled she pushed the musing aside. She was mentally procrastinating and she had to stop. Taking a deep mental breath she prepared to divulge the deepest secret she'd ever had.

"Before I tell you everything about this gift of mine" began Ginny haltingly, "I just want to confess one final thing."

For reason quite understandable Harry looked far from comforted at her words.

"I've had one more vision that I haven't told you about."

She had to give Harry credit for welcoming this news with an almost impassive calmness. "This vision was different," she continued softly, "because for the first time in a long time I was able to resist the urge to warn you."

This earned her a raised eyebrow. "In hindsight I really regret this decision, but at the time I felt you were getting too close for comfort and I needed some space to confirm things first. The book from the library had given me some new insights but I was for reasons you'll soon know, rather reluctant to accept these hands down without any secondary sources backing it up. I needed time to verify this first and I couldn't do that if you were breathing down my neck pestering me to tell you why I always knew what was going to happen to you."

Ginny chanced a glance at Harry and was startled to find him returning it. "You know what I'm talking about don't you?" she asked shakily. Harry shrugged seemingly indifferent. The stoop of his shoulders and the look in his eyes told her he was anything but.

"I have my suspicions," he responded flatly making Ginny cringe inwardly. Harry wasn't supposed to sound so cold and dispassionate, it wasn't like him. I've made him like this, she thought despairingly. Yet there was no changing the past. Ginny could only hope her admissions would earn her at least his forgiveness. Anything beyond that she hardly dared believe.

"I'm not surprised," she said barely audibly. "I still think I should tell you about it though. I'd hardly opened my eyes that morning before the vision assaulted me. It was the strongest and clearest I've had to date, and looking back I can't for the life of me phantom how I managed to resist telling you. It was absolute murder watching you playing that day, knowing what was coming. But somehow I managed it, and you ended up in the hospital wing. I'm terribly sorry," she whispered shakily but was unable to look at Harry. She felt too ashamed; too guilty.

"Do you know who did it too?" asked Harry coldly. There was a distinct harshness to his voice. It almost broke Ginny's heart.
"No, of course not," she croaked hoarsely. "I would've come forward instantly if I'd known who was traipsing around the castle casting the Imperious curse on poor, unsuspecting Hufflepuffs. You must know I'd never withhold information like that?"

The question was almost desperate, her voice shrill as it echoed off the walls in the almost empty infirmary.

"I'd like to think you would," he answered shortly. The unsaid doubt hung heavily in the air. Ginny felt like she was drowning. This was not good, not good at all!

"I would!" she said with all the passion and power she could muster, but it sounded weak even to her. Would she really? a taunting drawl inquired in the back of her head. Ginny would never know for certain, but if she didn't really believe it herself, then why should Harry?

Swallowing the urge to break out in gut-wrenching sobs Ginny continued talking. "I did have an ulterior motive for not warning you besides avoiding more questions," she admitted with heavy reluctance. "I knew finding a student subjected to the Imperious and trying to kill a fellow student would cause some stir." Beside her she heard Harry snort incredulously. "I kept watch of the comings and goings of the Hospital wing and as soon as I spotted Dumbledore and a slew of other teachers file into the infirmary presumably to see you, it knew my one chance had come."

Harry gasped. "Holy Morgana!" he barked in astonishment. "It was you, wasn't it? You broke into Dumbledore's office, didn't you, to get that book you saw?"

Ginny could little do but nod.

"Blimey!" was all Harry mustered and for a moment he just sat there staring at her with newfound admiration and awe. Ginny didn't think she'd ever resume her normal skin colour, she was blushing so hard.

"You hoodwinked Dumbledore's office wards?" stuttered Harry incredulously his eyebrows still hidden high up under his fringe. Ginny shrugged noncommittally. Obviously she had, though to this date she hadn't got the faintest clue how and why she knew what incantations to cast. Though she'd later learned that this wasn't entirely unheard of with cases like hers, she still didn't want to dwell on it. Harry wouldn't understand. He'd be wary, scared and painfully reminded of his second year. It was best to let that matter rest for now.

"Whoa," muttered Harry dazedly. "He never even found out it was you?" he asked incredulously. "I mean he's Dumbledore. He's like all-knowing you know!"

"Oh, I'm sure he knows," said Ginny matter-of-factly making Harry look (if possible) even more gobsmacked. "It's hardly believable that a fourteen year old witch can outsmart him just like that. No, I think he's just looked the other way; pretended it hasn't happened or whatever it is he's telling himself."

Harry chewed his lower lip thoughtfully for a few moments. Ginny wished he'd stop as it was far too distracting an action. "That sounds like something Dumbledore would do actually," he concluded with a frown. "To let fate play itself out or some tosh like that. He's barking, alright."

"Most likely yes," Ginny agreed, "but that's not important right now. The content of that book however is."

Harry's face said it all: He wanted to know everything. Ginny couldn't, wouldn't and hadn't the ability to deny him this.

"It's hard to explain properly," she whispered shakily, fumbling nervously in her book bag. With some difficulty she extracted an old and worn book and handed it wordlessly to Harry. He accepted it and Ginny felt somewhat comforted to see his hands shake slightly as he did so.

"Page 81," she managed to croak and watched with bathed breath as Harry thumbed to the appropriate page.

*

Harry's head was spinning and he hadn't even begun reading yet. When Ginny had handed him the book he'd eagerly yet shakily accepted it and wasted no time thumbing to the assigned page. He'd been on edge ever since Ginny began this long-winded explanation of hers and it was as if all the nerves in his body was about to short-circuit from the stress of it all. He understood that it was difficult for her, but still sitting through this tale had been something of the most difficult things he'd ever gone through, and that really was saying something Harry thought sarcastically.

His sarcasm was soon forgotten however as page 81 revealed itself to him.

Holy shit!

For a brief second Harry was quite certain someone was playing a very elaborate joke on him. He half expected Fred and George to bungee down from the ceiling yelling "gottcha!" on the top of their lungs or something equally outrageous because this was just too bizarre, too unbelievable and too damn scary.

"What-?" he began falteringly but Ginny simply shook her head. "Read it first," she whispered pleadingly and Harry could little do but nod stupidly. She looked so lost and distraught he couldn't find the power to argue with her. Reluctantly he returned his attention to page 81. It was equally as shocking the second time around but this time Harry took his time to study the image more closely.

It was a simple charcoal-drawing yet it was the most mesmerising piece of art Harry had ever seen. His eyes scanned to the signature and date in the corner and though he knew the book was beyond old he was still knocked completely of guard at what he saw. The drawing was almost a thousand years old! How could it be?

Dragging his attention away from the mind-blowing image, Harry concentrated on the text on the adjourning page.

The Art of Drawn Divination

Hogwarts founder Helga Hufflepuff was one of the most recognised artistic talents before her unfortunate demise. In retrospect her academic merits and key role in the establishment of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has overshadowed this side to her. Not only was she an extremely gifted portraitist, she also showed an enormous aptitude for Drawn Divination; that is the creation of paintings under trance showing a premonition of things to come.

Helga's sister Helena Hufflepuff confessed that Helga often felt as if something took control of her brush or quill and created works of art she had not intended to make. This book contains several of her "created in trance" paintings; the most famous being the piece of art labelled "The United Magic - The Four of Hope".

Well, thought Harry dazedly as he once again let his eyes sweep across the four faces staring back at him from Hufflepuff's drawing. At least this confirmed what Hermione had already proposed as a liable theory. The Prophecy of the Strinx was in all likelihood about them. How else could one explain a thousand year old charcoal-sketching depicting the spitting images of Hermione, Ron, Ginny and himself standing in a sort of circle surrounded by trees and with their wands touching?

It was probably the most surreal and outlandish experience of Harry's life, staring at what was clearly and undeniably his face, lightning bolt scar and all, staring back at him from a drawing created almost a century ago. He couldn't think of a single thing to say and so he decided not to say anything at all. Instead he turned the page, although somewhat shakily, and ploughed on reading, his heart almost jumping out of his chest. His nerves had never been more on edge, more frayed and more excited! He was on the verge of a life-altering revelation, that much he was sure of. But was he ready for it? That he wasn't so sure of, but it was too late to back out now. Especially with Ginny nearly falling apart next to him.

Page 83 turned out a mild disappointment. It was entirely made up of more or less useless hints about dream-interpretation, palm-reading and whatnot. After having skimmed more than halfway through the page, he shot Ginny a questioning look. If this was it, then she had no reason to look so utterly on edge. Honestly, this was almost tame compared to Unfogging the Future. She however looked far from calm.

"You can skip a few pages," she whispered shakily. "To page 87, the second heading."

Harry readily complied and felt a mix of excitement and utter terror surge through his body as he laid eyes on the heading in question.

The Prophecy of the Strinx.

Gulping down a fresh batch of nerves threatening to turn his entire body into nothing but shivering limbs, Harry let his eyes wander to the first paragraph and slowly began reading the words that would irrevocably change his world.

In the time when a millennium approaches a monarch of darkness and gloom will grow and fall only to yet again rise from the ashes to new heights of iniquity. His powers will threaten the balance of good and evil and the Magical community as we know it will find itself in peril of extinction.

However a direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor will possess the supremacy to resist this terror and a fateful encounter between these opposing poles can save our world. However the Heir to Gryffindor will only be able to conquer this evil threat with the aid of his two fellow Unimagiks. Each Unimagik possesses a rare and powerful gift but it is fused together in the bond of Unagi that the true extent of their powers will burst forth. A Unagi bond successfully created cannot be countered by anything aside from death, and should therefore not be entered into lightly as ones souls will forever be linked.

To form the bond of Unagi a fourth party is required. The powers of the Unimagiks cannot be linked and fused without the presence of the Strinx. This person provides a specific link to each Unimagiker; Faithful Friend, Family Blood and One True Love.

The Strinx or catalyst is a true seer. This person will have the ability to See the future for his or hers One True Love. The bond of love between them is triggered by a life-altering act and manifested by a distinguishing mark that will identify and acknowledge this union. The mark will show itself only when it is time for the Strinx to establish the Unagi. The Unagi will be released as a direct consequence of a severe and irreversible betrayal of what is believed to be a trusted ally.

The Heir to Gryffindor and his Strinx are true soul mates. They are destined for each other and share a love so pure it cannot be denied. Either may try to turn to others but neither will ever find comfort or love. Ancient Magic has sealed their fate and if they cannot be together they will be forever alone and the Unagi will never come to be.

Harry was blown away!

For the longest time he sat simply staring at the page before him, so completely lost in thought he was unable to move or speak. He tried reading it again to make sure that he'd understood it correctly but gave up halfway through. His mind was forever stuck on the last paragraph, and though the text was quite clear in its formulation the content still had him feeling absolutely gobsmacked.

So much of this they'd suspected, like the fact that Ginny was his Strinx and that he, Ron and Hermione would form a Unimagik-bond. What powers they were supposed to possess still eluded him, but taking this text and adding that scarily life-like drawing to the mix, he for one was beyond convinced that this truly was about them. Hopefully they didn't have to face up to Voldemort for at least some time, giving them ample opportunity to explore this aspect of the prophecy.

This One True Love business however was a tad more complicated...

A million questions were racing through Harry's head all battling for his attention. He'd always assumed learning the Prophecy of the Strinx would finally provide him with all the answers he needed and somehow the exact opposite had happened.

Somewhere beyond the fog that had settled on Harry's mind he registered Ginny shifting uneasily in her chair and instantly he tore his eyes away from the book and set his gaze on her pale and anxious face. She held most of the answers he knew, but somehow asking them felt more terrifying than any Acromantula, Hungarian Horntail or Blast Ended Skrewt he'd ever encountered. Even Voldemort himself would be less daunting, yet there was nothing else for it.

In that moment Harry realized that before him sat a person with more power over him than Voldemort would ever have. The realization was as exhilarating as it was terrifying. Knowing that Ginevra Molly Weasley, the little red-haired girl he'd watched chasing after the Hogwarts Express half laughing half crying the day he fully embraced who he was and where he belonged, was the same person who now held the key to the kind of man he'd become and to the fate of their world. All depending on whether they were in fact the other's One True Love.

"Well," began Harry haltingly, appalled at the way his voice croaked like Trevor the toad. "This certainly was - eh... informative."

He watched as Ginny gestured soundlessly though he'd no idea what she meant to convey. Not that it mattered much of course.

"There's - eh - a few things I'm, you know, wondering about," he continued less croakily but still far from his normal voice. But then again there was nothing normal at all about any of this so why should his voice be any different?

"Most of this we already knew-"

Ginny suddenly jerked her head up so abruptly Harry was surprised she didn't sustain a whiplash at the very least.

"What? How?" she asked frantically, her hair falling across her face and she impatiently brushes it aside. Harry's momentarily spellbound by the vibrant red tresses but quickly recovers.

"Uhm, actually we've just sort of gathered bits and pieces of information over the year and in sum it's roughly added up to something not too far off from this." He gestured to the book in his lap. Before he knew what hit him Ginny had snatched it away and was now cradling it in her arms like a small baby.

"How?" asked Ginny desperately? "I spent so much time and effort searching for information and had to lower myself to petty theft to achieve it, and somehow the three of you manage to stumble across it just like that?"

"Not just like that!" replied Harry defensively. "We too spent eons looking for stuff. It didn't just fall into our laps you know!"

"Then how?" Ginny all but screamed. Harry instantly lunged across the bed to clap a hand over her mouth.

"Don't scream like that," he hissed, "do you want to be kicked out for breaking her precious rule of not raising your voice and upsetting her patients?" Ginny shook her head vehemently and Harry removed his hand.

"Tell me how?" she begged in a whisper. Harry nodded.

"Hermione found a reference to Unimagik when she was at St. Mungo's. To her delight it turned out the hospital has an extensive library and she spent some time frolicking around during her stay."

"Oh," was Ginny's only reply. A pregnant pause fell over them while both seemed to be contemplating where to lead the conversation next. Ginny caved first.

"So you knew about all this One True Love stuff, then?" she asked tentatively her voice deliberately calm and blasé, yet Harry could see that she was anything but.

"Yeah, I did," he answered truthfully.

"How long have you known?"

"Since Hermione came back from St. Mungo's. Ron's been having a field day teasing me about becoming family and whatnot." The moment he said it he knew he'd made a terrible mistake. Ginny's face fell and Harry instinctively knew he'd hurt her deeply.

"So," she said in a strained voice, "you've been cracking jokes about this with my brother while I've been worrying myself sick over this whole thing, wondering..."

"Wondering what?" asked Harry. Ginny didn't answer.

"Wondering what?" he asked again. "Tell me Ginny, I can't talk to you about this if you're not telling me what you're thinking; how you feel."

"Isn't it obvious," she wailed, tears cascading down her cheeks. "Hasn't it always been obvious; from the day I met you? I've always been infatuated with you, and you know that. The infatuation has gone away but it's only been replaced with something deeper, something stronger. For my part this prophecy is true; you are my One True Love, Harry Potter and I've even gone as far as to prove it!"

Though he'd always known she liked him in that sense and she'd all but spelled it out to him earlier that evening, her words still hit him like a ton of bricks. He knew he was gaping like a flaming idiot, something that she was bound to misinterpret if he wasn't mistaken because his gaping-idiot-look was not his finest, but it was all he could do at the moment. A frantic voice inside his head had taken to shrieking at him to get his tongue working and just tell her already, but alas what came tumbling out was anything but a declaration of love!

"What do you mean you've proved it?"

Ginny looked momentarily taken aback by his question, but quickly recovered though there was a certain stiffness to her motions that suggested she wasn't quite as collected as she was letting on.

"Well," she began slowly and Harry mentally cringed at the sound of her voice. It was obvious that she was about to cry, and he just knew he wasn't doing anything to help avoid that by asking her about this. Deep down he knew the answer, but a childish part of him wanted her to admit it; to own up to the fact that she'd willingly initiated something that had hurt him in a way that no one ever had before.

"The prophecy said that neither the Strinx nor the Heir to Gryffindor could be with anyone else, so I thought the best way to really test if I was this Strinx was to -"

"Snog Max Strober at every opportunity?!" snapped Harry with uncharacteristic force making Ginny jump in her chair.

She was still for a moment and the only sound was that of Harry's uneven and furious breathing.

"Well," she started almost inaudibly, "it did confirm it. From the first day I felt slightly queasy when I was with him but at the time I assumed it was because I felt so damned guilty about deceiving not only him but you too." She closed her eyes tightly and Harry could see she was struggling not to break down completely. Still he did nothing but stare at her.

"It was so hard," she whispered, wiping away a tear. "But I needed to know for sure. I couldn't face you with something like this without knowing without an ounce of doubt that what I presented was true. Don't you see, Harry? I've been pining for you for so long, and everybody knew it. I was afraid I'd look like a desperate fangirl trying to woo you with false hope of saving the world if you just decided that you loved me. I couldn't do that, and though I know what I did wasn't particularly morally just, not to mention that I blatantly used a nice boy who had nothing but good intentions for my own selfish purposes, I still decided to go through with it. In hindsight it was hardly my best call, but I'm only human..."

At that point the walls gave away and Ginny broke down completely. For what seemed like eons Harry just sat motionless unable to decide what to do now. Yes, he was angry and hurt about what Ginny had done, but at the same time her actions had served its purpose. Now Ginny knew, now she could embrace her gift; her fate and they could finally be together.

That is if he could just get his act together and tell her that!

Awkwardly he scooted over on the bed and laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. Ginny tensed but didn't look up or stop sobbing. This was bloody hard!

"I recon this prophecy-thing is really true then," he croaked hoarsely. His heart was about to pop out of his chest, his face was as red as Ginny's vibrant hair and he was sweating like a freaking pig. And yet it wasn't nearly as awful as it was supposed to be. In fact it was rather liberating, finally admitting out loud how he truly felt about the young woman sitting in front of him.

Ginny's head whipped up, and their eyes met in the most exhilarating and soul-searching look Harry had ever shared with another being.

"You do?" she whispered incredulously, as if the meaning of his words hadn't yet sunk in.

"Yeah," he confirmed a bit more confidently moving his hand to hers, lacing their fingers. Ginny stared at their clasped hands with such open wonder Harry felt like laughing out loud in pure joy. Sure, she'd hurt him with her actions, but he was hardly one to throw punches at her when he'd been traipsing around with Eloise Midgen for the past few weeks without feeling for her anything but a deep appreciation of learning the finer points of snogging.

As if sensing where his mind had taken him, Ginny squeezed his hand lightly getting his attention. "What about Eloise?" she inquired uncertainly.

"Forget about Eloise," said Harry, "she's not who I want."
"But she doesn't make you sick, does she?" asked Ginny tremblingly. "Doesn't that imply that your feelings aren't the same as mine; that I'm not -"
"Not my One True Love?" interrupted Harry and Ginny nodded slowly.

"I wouldn't worry about that. I might not have gotten physically sick when we were together but there's been some other, strange things going on with us."

"Like what?" she asked still sounding wholly unconvinced.

"Like the fact that Eloise always ends up with a throbbing headache after just having spent a few moments in my company. I hadn't given it that much thought until now, but given what's been going on with you and Max I'd say it's the same thing."

"Oh," said Ginny numbly staring at their intertwined hands and biting her lower lip in the way that always sent Harry's blood rushing southbound. Though Ginny had certainly looked better, what with her bloodshot eyes, tear streaked face and out-of-control hair, she'd never been more breathtaking in Harry's eyes.

"What happens now?" whispered Ginny nervously; her eyes darting up to finally meet his.

"I'm not rightly sure," Harry answered truthfully. He'd never been in love before and hadn't the faintest clue what to do about any of it. He had a vague notion that dates would be involved, and if his one date with Eloise was anything to go by, then snogging would play a vital part. Instinctively he inched closer to Ginny, her hand still firmly clasped in his own.

To his stunned shock Ginny seemed to have gotten the same idea, because suddenly her chair had moved several inches closer to his bed. Harry hadn't noticed her doing so and suspected magic had been involved.

"I, uhm," Harry began but he never got any further because Ginny was clearly and without a shadow of a doubt leaning towards him. Harry wasted no time mimicking her motion. He could feel the air cackling with energy; magic. His and Ginny's magic! They were creating magic of their own, and they hadn't even kissed yet!

Their lips were as good as touching when the infirmary door burst open with a bang. Ginny and Harry jerked apart and hurriedly resumed appropriately innocent positions. Their blazing cheeks and shiny eyes betrayed them though, but the whirlwind that stormed in paid them no mind.

"I swear to Morgana, Ronald Bilius Weasley is the biggest bastard that ever lived and when I find him I'm going to kill him so hard he won't be able to walk for several days!"

Harry sighed deeply, grabbed Ginny's hand and quickly hid their intertwined fingers under the duvet. The kiss would have to wait, that much was clear.

And since when did Hermione swear? This did not bode well!