A Harry Potter Fanfiction by
Author's Note: Special thanks go to Cap'n Kathy (AKA Elanor Gamgee) for her
help with the book titles (she came up with the best ones) and for letting
me borrow 'Aura Libris' - go read her story -
Not So Bad After All - it's awesome. To my wonderful beta readers - you
guys ROX! Also, to Jedi Boadicea, a big thanks for asking me to be a part of her
Yahoo Group. Join us at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Weird_Sisters
Disclaimer: Harry Potter et al belong to the wonderfully talented J. K. Rowling.
Who would want it any other way?
Chapter Two: Glimpses of Books
Reed eek of Joseph, and ther shul ye
Wher dremes ben somtyme (I sey nat alle)
Warning of thinges that shul after falle.
~From the Nun's Priest's Tale by Geoffrey Chaucer
Ginny sat back in her chair and rubbed her eyes, taking a moment to rest before
plunging back into her research. She didn't know what was worse, studying
for a full set of N.E.W.T.s or only having a few along with the paper. McGonagall had
decided that they needed something to make up for the lack in end-of-year
tests. How nice for Ginny and her remaining classmates that McGonagall had
thoughtfully added a research paper - at least twenty whole rolls of parchment! As
if they hadn't been through enough. The war had left Hogwarts closed for
almost a year and many of the former classes were still not being taught. As
it was, she was finishing with only the core classes in her last term.
Not that it mattered. She and most of her classmates had learned things by
trial and error, out in the real world. Ginny shook her head. She didn't
want to revisit those memories. Not right now.
But it was too late. Visions of the last moments before the end swirled around
inside her head. Fallen classmates and teachers strewn against a backdrop
of crumbled brick and mortar. And just like every other time that her
memory traveled back to the not-so-distant past, it stopped on Harry.
That night. It had been the beginning and the end. A beautiful memory and
a horrible nightmare all at once. It had been innocent and wonderful;
they had talked in the common room for hours about nothing in particular. It
was late and the common room was empty of anyone but them. She'd known
that Harry hadn't been sleeping much during that time, and usually Ron
and Hermione were there, keeping him company. But that evening had been
one of their library nights and Ginny, having long overcome her
self-consciousness around Harry, made herself at home next to him on the
couch in front of the common room fire. They had become good friends over
the last few years, and up until that night Ginny had been sure that she
had her feelings in check.
They had been laughing over a shared joke - a joke she could no longer recall. What
she did remember was how his hand kept brushing against hers. How he had
seemed to move closer to her on the couch. When he laughed, he had leaned
into her, and when Harry Potter had turned his head to smile at her, she'd
known what she had to do. The kiss had been wonderful, brilliant. She
didn't care that she had initiated it and not Harry - the wayshe'd always
imagined. She just knew how right it felt; she knew that he hadn't stopped
Ginny couldn't say when his glasses had come off or which one of them had
removed them. She remembered that he had looked so different without them. His
face had seemed younger, almost free from worry. Almost.
That night was one she would never forget. That was the night that changed
all of their lives forever.
Ginny sat quiet and still for a moment, waiting for her head to clear. It
didn't do to dwell. Sighing, she sifted through the books and parchments
piled around her, feeling around for something in particular. It was a
large package wrapped in crisp paper that had been delivered that morning.
Turning it over in her fingers, she felt the large, wax seal. She had seen
it enough times to know what it was just by touch - the official seal of
the London Magical Library - the letters LML in large, gothic print surrounded
by a ring of laurel leaves. Hermione had sent the material to her by owl
not long after she had left for work in the morning; Ginny had almost forgotten
She found and opened the accompanying letter, which Hermione had charmed to
read itself out loud. Ginny smiled as she heard her friend's voice...
I was able to find several texts that I think will be essential to
your research and sent them out first thing this morning. I know you
are eager to get your paper done and I didn't want you to have to wait
until tonight for them. I also happened upon the last one while reorganizing
some of the collections in storage. (Honestly, you wouldn't believe
the mess! You would have thought the boys worked there.) Anyway, I
hope you find it interesting. It's the journal of an Ancient Muggle
named Joseph. He was a holy man and a prophet. Let me know if it proves
I do hope you find the books useful. The Hogwarts Library is still
one of the finest, but I know how helpful it would have been to have
access to other resources when I was there. I'm still trying to persuade
Madam Pince to participate in interlibrary loans - but she's very
resistant. She doesn't want any of her books to leave Hogwarts. I'm
not sure that I blame her, considering what happened. It's lucky that
so many survived. I'm sure I'll convince her though, as it's in the
best interest of the students.
Let me know if there is anything else you need, or if you need any
help. I'll see you at home.
Ginny put aside the letter, a smile crossing her
lips. Imagine wanting more books in school! Only Hermione. As
it was, Ginny hadn't asked for these, Hermione had just taken it upon herself
to send them. However, since many of the books in the Hogwarts library
had been stolen or destroyed, good resources were hard to come by. Besides,
since Hogwarts wasn't open, she didn't have anything at the ready. Madam Pince was
wonderful, owling her whatever she needed, but
Ginny wasn't going to complain about the unsolicited help that Hermione
Classes still were not being held at Hogwarts. The
staff was minimal, and the students willing to return were few. Some teachers
had fallen during the war; others had retired, desperately in need of quiet
after the events of the past year. The same held true for the students
- many were trying to come to terms with what had happened and few were
ready to continue with their normal schooling. The staff that was at Hogwarts
was spending much of their time performing Cleaning Charms, taking inventory
of everything from the chairs in the common rooms to classroom supplies,
and most importantly, reproducing the protective magic around the school
Twice a week, those students from Ginny's year
who had decided to continue their lessons met in a room at The Leaky Cauldron
with one or more of their professors for lessons. There were only eight,
including Ginny, but she looked forward to the time they spent together. It
felt almost normal as she and her classmates spent time after their lessons
walking through Diagon Alley and enjoying an ice cream at Florean Fortescue's. Almost
Ginny shook her head clear. She had to stop dawdling
and get to work. Unwrapping the package, she counted five large books
and one smaller one. Tapping her wand to the covers she said, 'Recitare Titulusi,' and
her wand read the titles of the books to her. There was If We Knew
Now What They Knew Then: 10 Ancient Prophets and How They Could Have Changed
the World if the World Hadn't Thought They Were Dingbats, Violent Visions, Goggling at Glass: Crystal Gazers of the 20th Century. Ginny
laughed hard when her wand read, Scrying With
Seers by Gilderoy Lockhart. Sometimes Hermione was really funny.
The last book was small; its pages and
cover felt fragile and it smelled musty. Ginny was almost afraid to touch
it, and probably wouldn't have even opened it if she hadn't been positive
that it had already been charm-protected from further aging and damage.
Carefully she opened the book, and it
fell to a page near the end. Using the Aura Libris Charm,
she quickly found that she didn't understand a word. It was written in
some ancient form of English with a mix of Latin. She pointed her wand
at it muttering, "Converterious English." The
spell transformed the words into modern English.
Her wand described what must have been
a map of Britain. An ancient map of Britain - she didn't recognize many
of the names although some sounded familiar. It continued reading, describing
a particular area that was detailed on the map: Glastonbury. Now Glastonbury
she was familiar with. She and her family had visited the town and famous
abbey there when she was younger. Fred and George had complained how boring
it was, Ron had been very interested in the grave of King Arthur, and their
father had gone on about how their ancestors were originally from Glastonbury. She
remembered the moans and eye rolling that went along with this particular
story. All the Weasley children had heard, no less than a thousand times,
about the Muggle persecution and how all wizards, including their ancestors,
had been forced into hiding. That was when some ancient Weasley relations
had left Glastonbury. Blah, blah, blah. Her father could go on and on.
Well, it probably wasn't going to be
any use to her, but she made a mental note to tell Hermione to show it
to Ron. He might be interested in the old maps and the King Arthur references.
She flipped through the book pausing
occasionally to listen to bits of the entries. It seemed that Joseph had
traveled extensively and had documented, in detail, the many places he
had been. Ready to put the book aside, she flipped through one last time,
landing on the last entry. Her wand read the short passage aloud:
And the Guardians will receive the light
and bear the one.
Ginny yawned. Even though Hermione's
opinion might differ, Ginny knew that not every book could be helpful.
She placed the book off to the side,
grabbed another text, picked up her wand and began listening to - “Lockhart?”
she burst out loud to no one.
Ron came into the flat, dropped his
bag next to the door, and threw his Ministry ID badges on the table. As
he walked over to the couch and flopped down he heard noises from the kitchen.
Not that he wasn't happy that Hermione
was there, he was. But one of these days he hoped that it would be Harry
He and Harry had taken the flat last
fall, and Ron had hoped it would help lift Harry out of his funk. In school
they had often talked of taking a flat in London, about the jobs they would
have, about what they would do out on their own; and that September, after
the end of their last year at Hogwarts, after the end of Voldemort, they
had moved out of the Burrow and into the small, two-bedroom flat. Ron
had been excited but Harry had been indifferent. He'd been more and more
withdrawn since the end, putting more and more space between himself and
his loved ones. Shortly after they had moved in, Harry had taken a runner
and fallen off the face of the earth. No one had heard from him in over
six months. Ron's emotions were constantly rotating from hurt and frustration
to a powerful anger that hurt his stomach. Potter was giving him an ulcer
and not even Pomfrey's Powerful Peptic Potion
was making it feel better.
He laid back on the couch, propping
his feet on the coffee table, but as he did so he knocked off a stack of
books that was piled not only way too high, but precariously close to the
edge. He reached down, muttering to himself about librarians who bring
their work home with them, when he picked up a small, blue, innocent looking
As soon as he touched it, he cursed
and let go, as if it had burned his hand, dropping it onto the table. Ron
knew immediately that he wasn't interested in any story that book
had to tell. Hermione had heard the racket and came into the room. "What's
the matter?" she asked.
"Nothing," Ron replied, trying
to keep his voice steady. "Is this your book?" he asked, pointing
to the small blue one he had dropped at the top of the stack. "Never
mind, stupid question."
"Ha, ha," Hermione responded
dully. "Actually, that's one of the books I lent Ginny. She said
you might be interested in it. Something about old maps and King Arthur."
"It seems pretty old even for a
library book," Ron said, looking but not touching the book. He couldn't
help being a little bit curious.
"It is. I found it in the basement
in a box marked 'special collection'." Ron watched her face; her
eyes sparkled whenever she spoke about books. "I probably shouldn't
have taken it out, but no one will ever know. It was buried way in the
back of the basement. Anyway, it had something to do with her topic. It's
filled with hand drawings of old maps of England. She thought you might
like to see it. Why don't you take a look?" She opened the book,
turning pages until she came to a drawing. "Here,” she said, holding
it out for him to take but Ron instinctively drew back.
"What's the matter?" she
asked, still holding out the book. But Ron couldn't help backing away
like it contained the plague. Hermione gave him a confused look then said, "Really
it won't bite, I promise. There's not even anything magical about it.
It was written by some ancient Muggle."
Ron shook his head, not so much in an
answer as to clear it. "No," he answered flatly. That book had
something to say all right, but he had no desire to find out what that
was. Bloody stupid things. Always wanting to talk.
"Fine," said Hermione looking
at him like he was going slightly mental. Placing the book back down on
the table, she pulled another book out of her bag and started reading.
Ron resumed his silent meditation, watching
Hermione. He still hadn't told anyone, even though the danger was over
- well, except for Harry. He'd told him during the war, but then it had
been because lives were on the line. It had been necessary and Harry had
demanded the entire story. Still, he felt guilty about not having shared
it with Hermione and there was no way he could predict her reaction from
his morning tea leaves.
The problem was that it was becoming
harder and harder to keep it hidden from her. Lately it had seemed more
pronounced, but maybe he was just noticing it more now. He had had little
time to dwell on it before. Now though, Ron was pretty sure Hermione was
starting to notice. It wasn't unusual for them to finish each other's
sentences, but lately Ron had begun to start hers before she did, and she
was starting to give him funny looks.
He really had let his defenses slack
once Voldemort had been defeated. Maybe he should just tell everyone. He
thought back to their early schooldays when Hermione had stormed out of
Divination, and grinned at the memory. He had been in such awe of her
on that day. But then he was always in awe of Hermione.
But for all his precognition, he really
couldn't be sure how she would react. He had kept the secret for so long. Now,
however, it was different. Before he had been in danger and he would have
endangered the lives of anyone who knew. Now he was just hiding something. Something
that was becoming more and more difficult to conceal.
So what would he tell her? How would
he tell her? Hey, Hermione, you look lovely today. By the way, you
know how you're always teasing me about Divination and my tea leaves? You
know that 'Inner Eye' Trelawney was always going on about? Yeah, well
I have it. You know, I can sense the future, well danger mostly. I can
also see things about a person's past. Oh, and objects - they're the
best. I can touch something and if it has any residual spiritual energy,
look out, Ron can tell you what happened. Oh yeah, she'd buy it. Hermione
was sitting across from him still thumbing through her book.
Argh! What should I do? He supposed starting at the beginning
was as good as anything.
It had been their sixth year and he
had been the only one of the three of them to continue studying Divination. Harry
and Hermione had tried to convince him what a waste of time it was, that
he would be better off taking anything else, but he had just passed
it off as an easy O.W.L and left it at that. He really wasn't sure himself
why he had continued to take it, but it definitely wasn't just the easy
O.W.L. The classroom was hot and stuffy, Parvati and Lavender were annoying, and Trelawney was a flake. Or
at least that's what everyone had believed.
It had been late in his sixth year when
Trelawney approached him. It was a particularly warm afternoon in April,
which meant that the temperature in Professor Trelawney's classroom
in the North Tower was unbearable. Ron was pretty sure he had dozed off
during the lesson on Mediums, because he suddenly realized that he was
the only person left in the classroom. He gathered his books and was just
about to go through the trap door when Professor Trelawney appeared out
of a shadow.
"Ronald, may I have a word with
you?" she asked, startling Ron, not with the question but with her
voice. It was not the soft, misty voice Ron had been accustomed to associating
with his Divination teacher. It was a strong, forthright sounding voice. His
jaw dropped and he stood there looking confused. She sounded normal.
"Ronald, I asked you a question," she
stated, still using the new voice. "Never mind, it's a silly question
because," and here she went back to her flighty voice, "I already
know the answer." She grinned mischievously at him, but all he could
do was stare back in astonishment.
"Come Ronald, have a seat." She
pointed to one of the overstuffed chairs next to hers at the front of the
room. Ron hesitated a moment then crossed the room and sat down.
"I'm just going to get right to
the point," she began, "and tell you that I've been observing
you since you first started this class three years ago." Ron still
stared at her unbelievingly. He really couldn't get past the voice.
"I've been taking note of all your
predictions from assignments, what you've seen in the orb, and in the teacup
- although, I have to tell you," she chuckled, "I don't put all
that much stock in tea leaves. But," she shrugged, "others seem
to think them useful so I teach them." With this Ron could no longer
"What is going on? Why are you
talking funny? And what happened to your voice?" Ron was incredulous. "What
do you mean you've been observing me?" He blurted it
all out, practically shouting the last part. Then, as if suddenly remembering
himself, he added, "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout, it's just, well
- I'm confused. Why me?"
Professor Trelawney smiled at him and
patted his arm reassuringly. "Ever since you came into my classroom,
I knew. You see, I'm what is called an Auric Visionary. I can see and read peoples' auras. Yours
just screamed at me that you had the gift.”
"The gift? What gift?" Ron
said sounding with complete disbelief. "You've got the wrong person. I
don't have any gifts." Ron had truly believed that too. He
was certain that he was just an average wizard with average wizard abilities. He
may have found himself in extraordinary situations, but they were a knut a dozen those days.
After giving what she'd said some serious
thought he said, "Maybe I was standing too close to Lavender or Parvati."
"A typical Ronald Weasley answer," she
said laughing. "But please, those two? Nice girls, but they are
only good at interpreting the signs from a book. True Seers, Ronald, are
very rare." Professor Trelawney looked extremely serious, especially
since she had taken off her ridiculously oversized glasses and headwrap. "No, I can see it, and it's just as
apparent now as it was three years ago - maybe even more so." Then
her voice took on a much more serious note. "You know about it, Ronald. You
cannot honestly say that this is a surprise to you."
He didn't raise his eyes to meet hers.
He just sat and stared at a spot where a button was missing from his robes. How
did she know? What was going on? Even more importantly- could
she help him sort things out? He took his time answering. He felt
a breeze flowing through the room and the air felt less stuffy. She
must have opened a window. Ron looked up and stared out at the cloudless
sky. He had no idea what to say. He just kept wondering
how she knew.
After a long period of silence, he took
a deep breath, looked up at her and spoke, "What do I do?"
That was the beginning of his mentor
relationship with Sybil Trelawney. During those last years of school,
no one really noticed that he was gone for long periods of time, or that
he spent this time up in the North Tower. Harry and Hermione had both
on occasion asked where he was, to which he would shrug and say, "Just
hanging around." He figured that most of the time everyone thought
that he was just going about his prefect duties or off making up new Quidditch
That was also the day he had learned
to keep his gift a secret. Not that he hadn't been doing so already. However,
now the reasons for hiding it were completely different. Once he became
aware of the danger he was in, he became even more guarded.
Professor Trelawney did not put on the
'crazy fortune teller' act for nothing. There were several reasons, which
she explained in detail to him. First, and most importantly was Voldemort. He
had sought out Seers during his last reign and now that he was gaining
power again, it was even more important that they keep their gifts secret. When
Ron had pointed out that her teaching Divination at Hogwarts was not exactly
a secret, she told him that was the reason she continued using the persona
she had created, not why or how it had started. Ron soon found out that
Sybil Trelawney and Tom Riddle had attended Hogwarts together and that
she knew he was Voldemort. Luckily, in school, she had put on the 'crazy
fortune teller' act to make a joke out of it. However, the one thing she
was never able to completely control was her channeling abilities and,
on occasion, she would fall into a trance without warning. Riddle had
been witness to one during their school years. She only hoped that he
had long forgotten it, and that he still remembered her as the flighty
Gryffindor he'd thought she was then.
Another reason for the act was simply
that Sybil Trelawney had a brilliant sense of humor. It really had all
begun as a childhood prank, but early on, she learned of the danger surrounding
her gift, so she continued the act, dressing and acting the part of the
flighty fortune teller. She even admitted to stifling a laugh that time
during his fourth year when he had made the Uranus joke to Lavender. Ron
had vaguely remembered it, but he couldn't help but start to warm up to
her after she admitted finding him funny. When he had asked her why, if
she had found it so funny, had she given them extra homework, she replied, "Well
it may have been funny, but it still was not appropriate. I couldn't have
the class thinking that I was a complete pushover."
After their first meeting, Divination
was that much more bearable for Ron. Until, of course, his last year at
Hogwarts when it was canceled. Professor Trelawney went missing after
the Christmas holiday and Ron had neither seen nor heard from her again. He
didn't like to think about what Voldemort had done. It was then that Ron
really realized and understood the danger Trelawney had told him came with
He sat staring at the book on the table. Whatever
it was going to tell him, it was going to do it one way or another. It
might as well be now. Slowly, he reached for the book and as soon as he
placed his hand on the cover the images began. He saw knights on horseback,
battles, women running, a king being crowned. Then suddenly, something
happened that had never happened before - he began to see images of what
could only be the future. Not only that, the visions were of himself and
Hermione, Harry and Ginny.
Panicked, Ron stood up and practically
threw the book across the room. Shaking, with temples throbbing, he stood
in shock, sweat running down his face. He felt as though he was going
to throw up. Hermione ran from her chair to his side, taking his hand
and gently smoothing the sweat-drenched hair from his forehead. "Ron,
what is it? What's the matter?" She sounded frightened. "Sit
down," she said as she eased him back onto the couch.
Ron sat, and slowly he lifted his head
to meet her eyes. Still shaking, he blinked back tears and said, "Hermione,
I have something I need to tell you…"