At What Price? Alternate Scenes

Warning- if Ginny is your vision of sweetness and light, this story may not be for you.

This is a ficlet set in the "At What Price? " story line. This takes place the same Sunday that Professor Figg joins Harry and the Dursley's for dinner. (Chapter 1)

 

The Seventh Son

‘All is right with the world.’ Ron thought to himself as he climbed the stairs of The Burrow. He passed Ginny’s room and noticed that she had her head stuck in the latest issue of Teen Witch Weekly.

"Hey Gin." He didn’t stop to see if she was going to respond. He kept just strolling down the hall whistling the latest song by the Weird Sisters, "Ensorcelled by Your Love". Ron thought he had never been so contented in his entire life, well maybe with the exception of a couple of hours ago but the effects were still lingering. ‘It’s too bad we can’t get together again tomorrow, maybe even a repeat performance,’ he was of course thinking of Hermione. The way she smelled, the way her hair felt in his fingers, the way her… *thud*.

"Watch where you’re going!" The mirror hanging at the end of the hall seemed to glare at him. Ron rubbed his nose from where he had run into the mirror. As he did so he looked carefully at his reflection. Something had changed in him. Granted, it had been some time since he had really looked in a mirror, but something had changed. He tried to arrange his face in a serious expression, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

"Do I look different to you?" Ron questioned the mirror.

 

"You look like the same old Ron to me." The mirror’s reply was neutral. It then added in a snide voice, "Clumsy as usual, anyway."

"Seriously, do I look different now than I did yesterday? I’m trying to figure out if it’s just me or if something has actually changed." Ron’s voice was speculative, almost as though he were asking himself as much as the mirror.

"Yes, you have that goofy smile spread all over your face, that one that says ‘I’ve been in the cookie jar and I didn’t get caught.’ However, the real difference is in your eyes. They have a contented look to them, a look that says ‘I am king of the world, the master of my destiny, I can do anything.’ Your father had the same look in his eyes the morning after he and your mother were married. I think it has something to do with being with a woman," the mirror dropped into a lewd male voice, "you sly dog."

"Thanks." Ron went into his room and sat down on his bed. He pulled out the letter he had gotten from Hermione the day before. It smelled like her perfume and he re-read it for umpteenth time since he had gotten it yesterday.

Saturday, June 23

Ron, my love

I wanted to owl you and let you know that I am free on Sunday afternoon. Mom and Dad are going to a wedding. The bride and I absolutely loathe each other, so my parents said I didn’t have to go. I know your folks are in New York helping Fred and George celebrate the new contract. I was wondering if you would like to get together for a couple of hours? Maybe I could come over and we can go walking down by the creek. I’ll need to be home by six, but if I come over about two that will give us almost four hours together. Just think- you, me, four hours, secluded grove by the creek, no parents- hmm the possibilities. I’m blushing just writing this. Call me through the fire when you get this and tell me if you want to get together.

I love Floo powder. Don’t like traveling by it, but it certainly beats traveling three hours by car from London to Ottery St. Catchpole.

I look forward to seeing you Sunday, tell Ginny I said Hi. Tell Harry I said Hi and to study hard.

Love always with many kisses,

Hermione

She had come over on Sunday, and they had, indeed, gone walking down by the creek. Ron smiled as he thought about how nice she had looked in her yellow sundress and how…

"Ron, stop day dreaming and listen to me." Ginny’s voice sounded annoyed as she waved her hand in her brother’s face.

"What do you want Ginny, I’m having a moment here." Ron really didn’t want to interrupt this train of thought.

"Ron, there is a travelling carnival in Ottery St. Catchpole tonight. I want to go, and you’re taking me." Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and leveled her best Professor Figg glare on him. The look went unnoticed, as Ron still hadn’t opened his eyes.

"And why would I do that, Ginny?" He was getting mildly annoyed now, and he really didn’t want that. It would be too hard to get back into his train of thought if he did.

"Because Ronald Arthur Weasley, you owe me!" Her voice was getting dangerous now so he sat up and looked at her.

"What do you mean, I owe you?" He stood up so that he could capitalize on the intimidation factor of his height.

"Ron, I am scarred for life, and it is YOUR fault." She stuck her finger in his chest to emphasize her point.

"How are you scarred, and how is it my fault?" He really had no idea what she was talking about.

 

"Because there are some things a girl should never have to learn about her brothers. And I know those things about YOU!" Again she stuck her finger in his chest. A tiny, almost unnoticeable smirk played around her lips.

"What do you mean, have you been in my room going through my stuff?" He was a little apprehensive about that possibility, there were things in there he’d rather keep private.

"Let’s see if this makes it a little clearer." Ginny cleared her throat and bent her chin into her chest so she could affect a lower tone of voice.

"Oh great Caesar! Oh gods Hermione! How do you know? Oh god!" Ron grabbed Ginny by the shoulders in panic and his mouth flopped open and closed like a fish out of water.

Ginny raged on, "I can never look at Hermione in the same way again. Dammit, she’s my friend! Every time I close my eyes…" she shuddered, "Ewww!" She was shouting at Ron now who was sitting on the edge of his bed with the letter still in his hand. "I need a Memory Charm is what I need. I need a Memory Charm so powerful I’d forget my own name! I am scarred for life Ronald Weasley."

Ron grabbed Ginny’s arms again; the look on his face was pleading and his voice was full of panic. "Don’t tell Mum or Dad. Please Ginny, I’m begging you. Please don’t tell. I’ll take you to the carnival. Whatever you want. Just, please don’t tell."

A smile of triumph spread across her face. "OK, I won’t tell, but you have to take me to the carnival. And get me cotton candy," she deliberated for a long second, "and win me a teddy bear."

"Why should I have to win you a teddy bear?"

"Because I want one, and if you don’t, I’ll tell." The look in Ginny’s eyes told Ron he had already lost this battle, he better quit before he lost the war.

"All right, when do you want to leave?" The resignation in his voice was total.

"Half an hour," she said thoughtfully. "I need to fix my hair and change clothes."

"Fine, wake me up when you’re ready to go." Ron stretched out on his bed, a large grin splitting his face as he thought back to the afternoon’s activities. He closed his eyes and his mind’s eye was filled with visions of a woman so lovely he could scarcely believe she loved him. The beauty of the sun in her hair, her liquid brown eyes, her cream coloured skin, the rich reddish-pink of her lips, the electric spark of her touch on his chest; he shuddered in ecstatic memory. In time the blanket of sleep overcame his ruminations, though his face betrayed the happiness of his heart.

Ron knew this was not real, for how could a man walk among the stars, and why would there be a building there? He saw a man and woman standing in front of a building, which was shaped like a giant ‘X’. As he approached he could see the woman wore robes of an ancient make and design and she bore the symbols of the Druids in her hands and around her neck. He sensed she was a woman of great power. On the other side of the doorway stood a man that bore a striking resemblance to Dumbledore, though he seemed more distant. Ron cleared his throat though neither acknowledged his presence. "Where am I?"

There was no answer, but the door between the figures opened and Ron entered a great hall. He walked to the middle of the room where the stars were visible above. He could see the four wings of the building extended ahead, behind, and to his left and right. The entry way to each of the four halls each bore seven symbols. Ahead of him seven cups were arranged about the door, to his right seven swords and to his left seven wands. Turning to look behind him he saw the archway was engraved with seven pentacles.

Intrigued by the door with seven wands he opened it, beyond he saw himself. As he looked more carefully he saw that he was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing the day before. He somehow looked younger than the reflection Ron had seen of himself in the hallway mirror this afternoon.

"You have already made that journey." The voice was that of an old man. Ron spun around expecting to see the old man from the front door, but it wasn’t.

"Who are you?" Ron asked the question directly, though he suspected the man was some sort of guide or wise man.

"I am the Hierophant, I will lead you when the time is right, but now is not the time. Return home, I will find you when the time is come." The old man’s hand passed across Ron’s face and his eyes closed. When he opened them again the room was gone and bright sunlight stung his eyes.

Ron blinked several times against the bright glint. Finally, the glint resolved itself into sunlight reflecting off of a picture of Hermione. Thinking of her, he grinned foolishly and got out of bed.

He walked down stairs to the living room where a small fire burned in the fireplace. Walking up to it, he tossed in a pinch of Floo Powder. "Comunus Infierno, Hermione Granger." After a couple of seconds her head appeared in his fire. He loved looking at her in the fire; it gave her face a hypnotic quality as the flames danced in her eyes. "Hey sweetie, how are you?"

"I’m," she hesitated for just a second as she tilted her head down demurely, "good, I feel like I’m walking on water. I just try not to walk too much right now." He wasn’t sure if he imagined that the fire was suddenly hotter or if it really was.

"Hmmm, so I take it a repeat performance tomorrow is out the question?" He sounded vaguely disappointed.

"Ronald!" Hermione’s voice was shocked and scandalized. Then she smiled wickedly, "Not necessarily." Ron gave very serious consideration to dancing right there in the living room.

"I’ll check my calendar, let’s see." Ron pantomimed opening a calendar. "Right here it says tomorrow I should spend as much time with my love as possible. Shall we make it a date?"

Hermione laughed, "No Ron, much as I would love to make that date, I have to go into London with my folks tomorrow." The emphasis she put on the word love made his heart skip a beat. "So what are your plans for the rest of the evening?"

"I’m taking Ginny to a carnival here in Ottery. She’s forcing me to under extreme blackmail." He really didn’t want to go, and his voice clearly illustrated it. Hermione gave him a questioning look.

Through clenched teeth he forced out, "She knows. She saw." Hermione gasped andin his mind he could see Hermione’s hands clutching in front of her chest as she the implications of that statement hit her full on.

"Don’t worry, she’s blackmailing me with it, but she has promised not to tell anyone. She told me she was never going to be able to look at us in the same way again and that I had scarred her for life. I think she’s being melodramatic."

"Ron, you don’t think she’ll squeal do you?" Hermione sounded genuinely concerned.

Ron replied trying to reassure her, "No, I think it’ll be OK. Anyway, I just wanted to say I love you and let you know I wouldn’t be home this evening. I love you Hermione, more than anything else in the whole wide world, even more than Quidditch." Ron’s eyes looked into Hermione’s soulfully.

"Oh Ron," she looked like she was trying to step through the fire to get to him. "I love you too, more than I can possibly express."

"You two make me ill." Ginny’s voice cut into their private moment like a hot knife into cold butter. In the most cloying and sickened voice she could muster Ginny mocked them "I love you more than springtime Hermione, I love you more than stars Ron." Ginny’s voice turned scathing again. "It’s disgusting the way you two act. No I am not going to tell anyone. I don’t want to have to live that moment again, ever." She stuck a slender finger down her throat and pretended to gag.

Ron turned back the fire, his face a mask of anger, his voice restrained. "Sweetie, I’ll talk to you later OK. Love you." He closed the enchantment before Hermione could respond. He turned on his sister and the mask of anger dropped away to reveal a towering rage. "What the bloody hell is your problem?" Ron was shouting at his sister now. "I know what your problem is, you’re jealous." His voice took on its own mocking tone now, designed to cut deep and leave scars. "Oh, Harry won’t go out with me, I worship the ground he walks on, and he hates me for it." He dropped the mocking tone in favor of an angry one, "Sod off, Ginny."

"Fuck you, Ron!" He could hear tears in her angry voice. "Fuck you! That was low, even Malfoy doesn’t go that low." Ginny felt her feet wanting to turn and run to her room to cry. She fought it though. She fought it with every ounce of strength she could muster. "You’re not getting out of this one. You’re fucking taking me to the carnival because you said you would. If you so much as mention Hermione or Harry or love or any of that other shit the rest of the night I will hit you so fucking hard they’ll be collecting your teeth at Hogwarts." The expletives rolled off her tongue with a practiced ease that shocked Ron, he had never heard her talk that way before.

Ron stood and looked at her, his expression and voice derisive. "What, aren’t you going to go cry?"

Shaking like a leaf in the wind she replied with a surprisingly controlled voice. "No, I am not going to cry. I am done crying. If Harry doesn’t want me, fine. I deserve better." Her voice began to crack, "I deserve some happiness too, dammit." Tears streamed down her face and Ron saw not the vindictive girl who was ridiculing his love for Hermione. Instead he saw his little sister, and she was crying. In that moment his anger was replaced by something deeper, something that went back to his earliest memories of her. He pulled her shaking frame to him and embraced his sister fiercely.

Ginny fought him, she wanted to be strong and she didn’t need him to protect her or comfort her. His arms were like iron though and the compassion in his voice as he apologized destroyed her resistance. "Why can’t I have happiness Ron?" Her voice sounded weak in her own ears. She sobbed convulsively into his chest and never heard his answer. The tears were cathartic and burned away her bitterness at Harry’s rejections. When she stopped crying she found that, amazingly, the tears had also washed away whatever it was that stopped her from seeing beyond Harry. As the last of her tears drained away she was filled with a new desire. She wanted to go out, she wanted to meet new people, she wanted to be noticed by boys her age, and she desperately wanted to be kissed. Kissed by somebody who liked her, Ginny Weasley.

She pushed away from Ron’s chest and looked up at him, "Ron, I want to go to the carnival. Can we still go?"

Relieved that the emotional roller coaster might be over he replied, "Of course we can, but I need to go change shirts first."

"So do I, and I need to do something about my face."

"Amen to that, try a hood." Ginny turned and looked at him and saw that he was wearing the same face that he did when he put frogs in her milk. She stuck her tongue out at him and then flounced up the stairs.

It was a good forty-five minutes before she finally made her way back down the stairs and Ron had heard her asking the mirror’s opinion of several different things. When she came downstairs he was completely unprepared for the sight that met him. She had piled her hair and several strands hung down, tickling at her neck. Her makeup was light but accented her features nicely, a little eye shadow, some light lipstick, and a touch of blush. She wore a short summer dress of light blue with white flowers. It had a spaghetti strap shoulders and the bodice laced and tied off in the back and the front was cut much too low for Ron’s liking. The glowering look Ron gave her told her all she needed to know.

"I’m going to have to beat them off with a stick, aren’t I?" His voice sounded displeased and threatening. She grinned mischievously.

"Whatever do you mean Ron?" Her feigned innocence wasn’t fooling anybody. Her voice was bouncy and upbeat and she laughed. She skipped over to where he stood and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Let me go get my Beater club, I’m probably going to need it." His voice was dark and full of threats of pain.

"You will do no such thing. You will not stand over me like some kind of bodyguard all night either. I am going to have a good time, and I want to look nice. No blood, no foul, that’s what you always say." The look she returned him was challenging. "Besides, it would be a shame if I had to tell mom." With that she turned and walked to the door, grabbing her summer cloak off the chair where it was draped.

Ron was good as his word and won her a teddy bear, as had four other local boys who watched her with entirely too much interest for Ron’s taste. She had flirted shamelessly and laughed at their jokes encouraged them to feats of strength and skill. By the time she was ready to leave Ron was carrying a bag full of teddy bears and pillows and inflatable toys. "I didn’t know I was coming along to be your porter." Ron complained as they prepared to leave.

"Ooo, Ron, look." Ginny pointed at a purple tent with stars and moons on it. Above it in gold letters read, "Madame Marix, Diviner of Hidden Truths." Under that it read "Tarot and Astrology."

"Ginny, you cannot be serious. For Merlin’s sake you’re a witch, you know that stuff is a fraud. If she was a real witch with any talent she wouldn’t be here, now come on, let’s go."

Ginny stuck out her bottom lip and hung her head slightly. Then she laughed and said, "Come on Ron, it’ll be a lark, we can laugh about it on the way home." Ron did a double take as an old man in a brown cloak stopped at the doorway of the tent and looked at him expectantly.

"Did you see that Gin?" Ron asked quickly. Ginny turned to look at the tent, then back to Ron.

"See what?"

"That old man that was in the doorway, he’s gone now. There was something eerily familiar about him."

"Sorry, didn’t see him. Tell you what, you get me a Tarot reading and I won’t threaten to tell mum for a week." The look she gave Ron would have melted polar ice caps. Ron was so glad to see his sister happy and laughing there was no way he would have said no.

"Alright." He slipped into the tent behind her; there was no sign of the old man. A woman, who he could only assume was Madam Marix, was seated at a table, bedecked in costume jewelry. The shawl draped over her shoulder reminded him of Professor Trelawney, though she didn’t have the spectacles that the professor wore.

"Ron, you’ve done Tarot, what kind of reading should I get?" Ginny’s voice was just slightly above a whisper.

Ron thought for a moment, the most accurate reading he ever had was during his fifth year. With a smile he replied, "Wizard’s Cross."

"I’d like to get a Tarot reading done please." Ginny sat down opposite the woman. She opened a box and pulled out a set of tarot cards similar to the ones he had seen in the shops in Muggle London while shopping with Hermione.

"Of course you would dear. Questions regarding love and young men are better answered by the Tarot than by the stars." She paused then, and considered Ginny for a moment. She set the cards back in the box and pulled out a different box. She opened it carefully and unfolded a purple cloth revealing a set of cards that appeared to be made of ivory. Ron shuddered, he had seen decks similar to this in Diagon Alley, and they were very expensive.

"Gin, I think we should go now." Ron’s voice quavered slightly. Madam Marix looked up as though noticing Ron for the first time. Her eyes were appraising, and Ron squirmed under her gaze.

"It is alright, the reading won’t take long, and much may be revealed." The woman’s voice lilted in the scented air and Ron got an uneasy feeling of déjà vu. She removed the cards from the box and asked Ginny to touch the deck before it was shuffled. Madam Marix deftly mixed the cards but one escaped her grasp and landed face up on the table. Ron looked and saw, with horrified shock, that the card featured an old man, with a walking stick, in a brown cloak.

"Gin, we need to go." There was urgency in Ron’s voice and he reached out and grabbed Ginny’s hand as she reached to cut the shuffled deck. His hand wrapped around her own before she could touch it, but his own fingers landed solidly on top of the deck. He snapped his hand back as a spark of energy snapped into his fingers from the deck, or perhaps it was the other way.

"Ron, get off. I want to have this done, there’s no harm in it."

"You don’t know that." Ron looked at his sister darkly.

"Ronald, just because you think the Tarot made you kiss Hermione doesn’t make it so. And even if it did, maybe somebody will kiss me after I get mine done." Ron stumbled and fell into a second chair and watched the deck with apprehension.

"Yes young man, the Tarot cannot direct your actions. It feeds upon your own energy to help you find the path. Perhaps the Tarot simply unlocked in your mind what your heart already knew, that you sought the affection of this woman, Hermione." Her eyes were critical as he glanced at her. "What question shall we ask Ginny." Her voice did not betray the look she had given him.

"I would like a Wizard’s Cross reading please." The woman’s eyes narrowed and she appraised Ginny. "The deck should already know the question as I asked it before you shuffled."

"Yes you did, though I find that the Wizard’s Cross is not the best tool for questions of the heart."

"You might want to re-evaluate that stance." Ron muttered to himself. If Madam Marix heard him, she ignored it and laid out the two five-card axis that made up the wizard’s cross.

"Well Ginny," she turned over the first card revealing a woman in ancient robes with religious symbols on her robes, "the priestess tells you to follow your intuition. Be receptive to impressions, especially those of unknown origin. Let the higher powers of the universe and fate draw you to the one you seek." She turned over a second card and laid it on top of the first. "The magician surrounds you with the forces of fate. Listen to them, follow them." Ginny and Ron shared a knowing glance, Ginny smiled.

Ron’s smile collapsed as he saw that the wizard bore a striking resemblance to Dumbledore, but he looked to stiff. Ron shuddered inwardly as something pulled at his sub-conscious mind.

"First, we will examine the decision itself, what must you overcome and when." The inner card of the right branch was turned face up by her jeweled hand. "The seven swords, inverted. You yourself oppose the changes that must be made. Something you do not believe, or do not want to believe, will have great impact on your life. You must accept this change to fulfill your heart’s desires. The Star on the outer rim tells us that this change will come at a time when all is well in your world. You will be rested and rejuvenated, then you will find immense happiness."

"Let us now examine the past leading up to this decision." She turned the inner card of the left branch, "The seven wands tells us that you are courageous, and that courage will serve you well as you go forward into uncharted waters. Be brave, for the paths of the heart are uncertain." Ginny gasped as the gypsy woman turned up Death as the outer card. "Fear not child, for Death is but a transformation. Something has changed, recently. You have shed one thing in favor of another, perhaps even come of age." Ron sputtered and coughed.

She reached for the inner branch of the lower arm, "The seven of pentacles, frustration. Your frustration at some achievement, or lack there of, will propel you to this decision which will bring you to a new beginning, perhaps a new love." Ron watched carefully as the woman reached for the inner card of the upper arm. He dreaded seeing that card, for he was sure he already knew what it was. As she turned it over, he confirmed his worst fear. The card was the seven of cups.

Rather than continuing the reading, Madam Marix stopped and examined the cards carefully. She turned the last card face up, the Ace of Pentacles. Ron remembered from his studies of Tarot for Divinations that the Ace of Pentacles was the Rewards card, the card he always wanted to see, but never had until now. The thought chilled him.

Madam Marix looked up from the reading and looked back and forth between the two. "Which of you is the seventh child?"

As one motion they each pointed at the other saying the other was the seventh child. "No, Ginny you are the seventh," Ron ticked them off on his fingers, "Charlie, Bill, Percy, Fred, George, me, then you."

Ginny responded, also ticking off them names on her fingers. "No Ron, you’re wrong. Charlie, Bill, Michael," this name she stressed, "Percy, Fred, George, YOU, and then me." At this listing Madam Marix opened her eyes wide and then narrowed them again as she eyed Ron critically.

"Is it true, are you a seventh son?" Ron hung his head slightly and nodded yes. "Leo’s eye!" she swore. Ron assumed she was swearing anyway, by the tone in her voice. "You touched the deck didn’t you?" She accused Ron.

"I might have."

"Did you feel the magic?"

"I might have." Ron answered the question warily, like a mouse watching a hungry cat.

"Yes or no Seventh Son, did you or did you not touch the deck?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously and her voice was like the edge of Gryffindor’s Sword.

"He has a name." Ginny defended Ron.

"Stay out of this Ginny." It was Ron, whose eyes were locked with the gypsy witch. He narrowed his eyes, which were hard as flint as he stared into the diviner’s eyes. Her eyes widened, and she looked away.

"It is true, you are a seventh son, you touched the deck, and realigned it to your own purposes. What games are you playing at here Seventh Son?"

Ron shot up out of his seat and leaned across the table. Ginny could see that the back of his neck and head were red with rising blood pressure. "Stop calling me that! I have a name, it’s Ron!" He took a deep breath and calmed his voice, though he continued to lean over the table. "I’m not playing at any games. I knew that last inside card was the seven of cups. When I saw the death card I knew it was transformation. I saw the Hierophant outside your tent, but Ginny didn’t." Ron sat down in the chair and rested his head in his hands. "What does it mean? Now that you know it wasn’t Ginny’s reading."

Madam Marix looked at Ron carefully. "I must say that is a relief. Trying to fit that reading to a question of love and desire was really stretching the bounds of my ability." She looked meaningfully at Ginny, "I am not some side show charlatan, nor are you some ordinary girl from some small town in England. You and I are witches, I would guess your brother is a wizard of no mean talent also." Ginny nodded her head as she began to reassess the witch sitting across from her. "That was why I switched decks. For the normal carnival reading, a standard deck will channel all I really need and I can fake the rest. Most of them are gullible and want to believe whatever I tell them." She took a deep breath. "Real witches and wizards are another story. They know when I’m faking it. I saw the look that passed between you two after the second card and knew you believed I was a fake. At that point it couldn’t be helped, I had a false reading and I was trying to fit it to the question." The gypsy woman let out a long, deep breath.

"How did you know I was a witch, and not just some girl from Ottery St. Catchpole?" Ginny was curious to hear the answer. She wondered if the gypsy could read auras.

"You asked for the Wizard’s Cross. Only witches and wizards with extensive knowledge of the Tarot know the Wizard’s Cross, for it is a powerful reading."

"Damn, you learn something new everyday." Ron actually sounded impressed.

"Well Ron, should we do this reading the correct way, now that we know the truth."

"Yes." Ginny and Ron answered as one. They hung on her every word, Ron out of foreboding, Ginny out of genuine curiosity.

Madam Marix smiled at them; "I won’t bother turning cards face up one at a time as we have all seen the total reading. Let’s start from the beginning. The Hierophant that fell out of the deck and stayed here on the table is the card of tradition, of mentors and students. In all cases relating to future events he indicates the presence of a mentor or a source of wisdom. It seems I am chosen." Ron jumped at this statement.

"What do you mean, you are chosen?"

"I’ll explain when we’re done, it didn’t make sense to me until all was explained." She indicated now the rows of cards on the table. "The high priestess is intuition. She is one of the low keys, a representation of the abilities of the human psyche to reach the higher levels awareness. She tells us to become more aware of the energies and forces beyond our own. As a seer you would concentrate on the forces of fate and universal law. The magician is another low key; here he represents what surrounds you. You are bound up in forces greater than you are, if you acknowledge them, they will guide you. In your case you will read them and understand the strands of fate as laid down in the universal laws." Using her finger she traced out the inner ring, indicating the four sevens. "Any time you have the same number in all four suits it is auspicious, if they are all in the same position relative to the center, it is not by accident."

"The left branch is the root, it represents the past, your foundation and what has happened to bring you to this point. Here, your foundation is courage-"

"Go Gryffindors." Ron and Ginny said together and then laughed. Noting the look of confusion on Madam Marix’ face Ginny continued. "We are both members of House Gryffindor at Hogwarts. Our most recognizable trait is courage, we follow in the steps of Godric Gryffindor."

"Ah, now the significance is clear. As you said Ron, Death represents transformation; recently something significant has changed in your life. Care to tell me what it was?" Ron blushed red and Ginny laughed.

"His girlfriend made a man out of him recently." Ginny laughed as Ron blushed even more, if that was possible.

"That is a significant change, you have come of age, and it has unlocked that which the juvenile mind was not prepared to accept." Ron was thankful she hadn’t ridiculed him. She even made it sound grand, which Ron had felt it was. "Coming down, we have the path of decision, that which influences you now, and that which is in front of you. You suffer from frustration in the here and now, there is something you want which you cannot achieve. Being the seventh son, I would assume you live in the shadow of your brothers. Here though, initiation indicates a new beginning, something you will become part of and can accomplish great things with. Embracing your role as a seer will set you on that path." She waited a few heartbeats before continuing, letting Ron think about the implications of what she said.

"To the right we find the obstacles and timing of the decision or change. The inverted seven swords means that there are favorable conditions for this change, or that you are resistant to it. Which is it Ron?"

"I think Divination is a joke, at least I used to before today. The only reason I started studying it is because Mum always did really well in it and I wanted an easy class."

Madam Marix’ voice was stern as she responded to his statement. "Ron, if you are going to travel this path, you have to accept that the stars lay down laws for the universe, that Tarot cards take direction from the human soul, that palms give us windows to our future, and that even tea leaves can hold glimmers of the future. You don’t have to become proficient in all of them. Nostradamus couldn’t even identify the three keys of the Major Arcana, yet he is widely regarded as the greatest seer of the modern world. I can’t read tealeaves to save my soul, but I know the manipulations of Tarot better than I know my own hands. Shall we continue?" Madam Marix stared into Ron’s eyes, her’s strangely compelling.

Ron nodded dumbly, unable to stop himself. "The Star, which represents illumination, tells us that you will manifest and decide during a time of contentment and healing, when all is right with the world." Ron smiled at this remembering how right everything seemed this afternoon. "Finally, the upper arm brings us resolution, what hopes and fears we have and what the outcome will be if we embrace the decision we must make. You hope to be able to distinguish illusion from reality, you fear that it will remain hidden from you as it has thus far, but if you are diligent you will be rewarded as indicated by the Ace of Pentacles. Your rewards will be great. As a seventh son, you could be great among the communities of seers, for it seldom occurs. As you know, great seers are well respected in the wizarding world, you could step out of the shadows of your brothers." Ron wasn’t sure if her pause here was for breath, or for dramatic effect. "Finally, your soul will rejoice if you embrace your nature and your birthright, and contentment will be yours. These are the rewards that await you."

Ron sat stupefied in his chair. Ginny spoke up tentatively, "Would he have to leave to study, go somewhere else?"

Madam Marix smiled and laid her hand on the Hierophant card. "Normally, the Magi of the Order of David train seers of great potential such as your brother. However, the Tarot has spoken and told me I am to be the mentor, your brother even said so himself."

This roused Ron from his contemplation. "Because I saw the Hierophant enter?"

"Not only that, but also because the Hierophant made himself known to all by falling out of the deck. When a card falls out during shuffling, it means someone present is seeking that card, or that the card is seeking someone present. In this case, you were seeking a mentor, though you did not know it, and the Hierophant was alerting me that I would be that mentor, though I did not know it. I must say, before I knew what was going on, the Hierophant had me sorely vexed."

"Sorry about that, I just thought it was static." Ron managed to look sheepish.

"It is all right Ron. So tell me, do you seek a mentor to lead you down the seer’s path? If so, I Madam Marix Rasputin, 3^rd Circle Diviner of the Magi of the Order of David, would like, would be honoured, to be that mentor." She rose from her seat and curtsied deeply to him. Ron sensing the solemnity and importance of this moment rose as well.

I, Ronal Arthur Weasley, seventh son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, would be honoured to have you as my mentor." Ron bowed deeply, though not elegantly. Reclaiming his seat Ron smiled, "There are, of course, a couple of caveats. First will be that my parents have to agree, I haven’t reached my majority as a wizard yet. Second would be that I stay here in Ottery St. Catchpole until the end of the summer and be allowed to return to Hogwarts with my friends in the fall for my seventh and final year of wizard schooling."

Madam Marix seemed to consider this for a moment, then she smiled. "Of course Ron, but I expect you to excel in Divinations this year, if you don’t I will come down to that school and tell everyone what I learned here this night," she smiled at him archly, "and I don’t think Hermione wants that." Ron laughed as he turned a little red, and the two women joined him in his laughter. Ron thought to himself for the second time that day, that all was right with the world.