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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, ideas, and situations created by JK Rowling and owned by her and her publishers. I own the original elements & characters. No money is being made by me, and no trademark or copyright infringement is intended.

"What's up?"

"I'm staying with you tonight."

"Really?"

"Really."

Hermione frowned. "But why?"

"Because I know you were planing on sleeping with a Weasley tonight, and you should."

"So was Neville," Hermione pointed out.

"I'm not quite ready to show him my tattoos," Ginny admitted. "I'd forgotten how shocking they really are until Mum saw them."

"I know what you mean," Hermione agreed.

"Now, my sister by ritual, may I share that lovely bed, like we did last summer?"

"Exactly like last summer?"

"I'll kiss your tattoos if you'll kiss mine."

"All right," Hermione said, shutting the corridor door and moving towards the bedroom. "I really need a Weasley to snuggle with, if you're sure Neville won't mind."

"I promised to make it up to him." Ginny paused at the entrance to the bedroom. "Did you and Luna do this, too?"

"A little light snogging and petting, nothing more. You?"

"A little light snogging, no petting," Ginny answered. "Harry probably wouldn't mind if Luna slept with you some nights."

"I'll be fine," Hermione said, "I'm just glad I won't be alone tonight."



Ron was in the middle of a very confusing dream, when he suddenly found himself very centered. "Hi, Ronnie."

"Hi, beautiful."

"Ronnie?"

"H'mm?" Ron said, leaning forward to kiss Rina, something he hadn't dared do yet in real life.

"Ronnie, stop that! This isn't just a dream."

"Then what is it?"

"This is a visitation."

"A what?"

"A visitation. You see, I've inherited this power called Dreamwalking. . . ."



After nearly fifteen minutes, Ron had finally figured out what was happening, and understood exactly what Sabrina's powers were. "So you've been in my head before?"

"Yes," she admitted. "Now, the only times I was here, you were dreaming of me. I had no idea you had been going with Hermione, let alone had any feelings for her."

"I wasn't sure what to do," Ron admitted. "I mean, while I was awake. I wasn't trying to hurt you, or Hermione. I do like Hermione; I have for two years. But then I met you, and well. . . ."

"You wanted to date me, but weren't sure what to do about Hermione, since she wasn't just your girl friend, but a close friend."

"Exactly. She, Harry, and I were a team, a really good and effective team. And I messed that up."

"It's hard to let it go, isn't it?"

"I have to let go of part of it," Ron admitted, rather disappointed in himself. "I won't be allowed back for a year and a half. Still, I won't let Harry down. Harry has to face Voldemort." Ron was surprised about how much easier it was to say the name like this.

"Has to?" Sabrina suddenly found herself forced from Ron's mind. To her shock, Ron was sitting up in bed, although it was clear he wasn't either awake or dreaming. He opened his eyes, and turned to look straight at her dream-self, although his eyes were unseeing.

"The Dark One Hides and Plots,
/Dreaming of Revenge against the One-He-Has-Not-Killed./
The-Boy-Who-Lived Finds Strength
/From the Ones Pledged to His Soul./
Let No One stand between them when they Clash,
/For if they do, they shall not last./
Let the Boy Prepare, let the Dark One plot.
/When the Time Comes, only One survives./"

Ron fell back on the bed, exhausted.

"Oh, shit." Sabrina fled to find her mother.



Ron woke up at little before 8:00. To his surprise, Sabrina was sitting at the foot of his bed. "Hi."

"Good morning," Sabrina replied. "First of all, thanks to you I missed the sunrise service. This will cost me some penance, not that I blame you at all. It does mean I can't kiss you today like I was planning to -- that was the penance I was assigned. Secondly, I really was in your dreams. I am a Dreamwalker. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah," Ron answered, surprised that what he remembered was true, "but then it went away."

"Yes, well, it turns out that you made your first prophecy."

"I made my what?"

"Your first prophecy, o seventh son of a seventh son."

"Oh, shit."

"You know, that's exactly what I said this morning. Now, get up and get dressed. After breakfast, there are going to be some revealing discussions. I've already had to swear my general silence about anything I hear."

"I made a prophecy?"

"Yes, dearest Ronnie. You are a prophet." Sabrina smiled sadly at him, for she knew this could become a burden. "Get used to it. Now, unless you need some help in the bathroom, let me get out of here so you can get dressed. Everyone is waiting for you."

Ron blushed a little, but did as he was told.



None of the teens from Britain were sure what had happened in the night, but it was obvious something had. The group, augmented by Henry Dorff, ate in near silence.

After breakfast, they all went into the parlor. The teens arranged themselves in pairs in the large chairs, except for Hermione, who was sitting on a footstool between Harry and Ginny.

"Please keep you attention on me," Tabitha started off. "First, let me tell you the outline of how we came to fight in Britain, and what we found when we got there."

Tabitha outlined her experiences and interests in Voldemort, and how the Confederation, pushed by the Old Believers, had sent previous teams into Britain to help in the underground struggle, and then how she and Tom Lawrence had been recruited by Henry. Lloyd then told the story of how he and his brother's group had come into it, and how he had found the residences for the North American groups.

Tabitha took up the general story, of the initial conflicts and then growing friendship between herself, Lily, and Alice, and of the slow improvements in the fight against Voldemort from Halloween until Easter, and then the reversals after Easter which showed, especially after July, 1981, that there was a traitor somewhere in the ranks.

"Later, Dumbledore decided that the main targets were going to be Neville's and Harry's families. We now know that a Prophecy was made in June, 1981."

"The one Voldemort was after last year?" Hermione asked.

"Exactly."

"It was lost," Ginny pointed out.

"No, the record of it was lost. It was made to Dumbledore, so he remembers it."

Tabitha quoted: "If I remember correctly, it goes something like, The One with the Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord Approaches. . . . Born to those who Defied Him, Born as the Seventh Month Dies . . . and the Dark Lord will Mark Him as His Equal, but He shall have Power the Dark Lord knows not . . . and either must Die at the Hand of the Other for Neither can Live while the Other Survives. . . . the One with the Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the Seventh month dies."

"One of Voldemort's minions overheard part of the prophecy, but not all of it. Voldemort decided to take Harry and his family out first, although his followers didn't know why. At that point, we performed an ancient rite of protection for both boys, seven of us swearing to protect them. One was killed over the next weeks, the other a few years later."

"And the four besides you?" Hermione asked.

"Tudor, Henry, Tom, and Lloyd, of course. Tudor was the main sponsor of Harry, Henry here of Neville. While we formed the inner circle of protectors, a larger group formed the witnesses. That included all three of your father's friends, Harry."

"Pettigrew," Harry spat.

"Exactly. His report made Voldemort hesitate a few weeks. In that time, the decision was made to hide you both away for at least a year under the Fidelius. Pettigrew betrayed the secret, and we all know what happened."

"Is everyone certain that Harry's the one, not Neville?" Ginny asked.

"I wasn't Marked," Neville reminded her, "Harry was."

"Exactly. However, only Voldemort and whomever the spy was knew anything about the Prophecy. We think that's why the Death Eaters went after you and your family after Voldemort was defeated, Neville. They knew there was something about you the Dark Lord was interested in. They tortured you and your parents. . . ."

"They tortured Neville?" Ron blurted out.

"Neville has only recently overcome the lingering effects on his memory," Tabitha said. "The Head of the Department of Magical Catastrophes decided to use a memory charm on Neville, to help him cope with the memories of the torture. He'd forgotten that you shouldn't use that spell on anyone under three."

"Dumb bastard," Henry growled.

"Fudge," Hermione said.

"What?" Sabrina asked.

"Not 'what', 'who'," Hermione said. "Cornelius Fudge, late Minister of Magic, was the Junior Minister of the Department of Magical Catastrophes, which means he was the head."

"Exactly," Henry said, "just in case any one wonders why we weren't about to cut him any breaks right from the start."

"Let's go back to the Prophecy," Hermione said. "You mean. . . ."

"Either I kill Voldemort, or he kills me," Harry said. "Neither of us can live in peace until one of us is dead."

"And what's this power, or aren't we allowed to know?" Ron asked.

"It could any one of a number of things," Tabitha said. "We'll be exploring some after Christmas. Now, let me explain about something called Mundane Dreamwalking."

When she was done, and had answered a few questions from Hermione about it, Tabitha went on. "This gift may appear spontaneously, or it may be passed down. A few people even manage to acquire it through rituals. It is most commonly found in families of witches. It is possible that Harry's mother had the gift, but it was not awakened. Left on its own, it generally awakens when one is in their thirties. However, in families of witches, mothers often awaken the gift in their daughters spontaneously. This was the one magical talent my mother had, and she awakened it in me, as I awakened the gift in Sabrina. Luna's mother awakened it in Luna, and Luna awakened it in Harry. Even if I had not sworn to protect Harry and Neville, I would have come to help Harry and Luna understand their gift. That is why I showed up before the start of the school year, however."

"And is that the 'power'?" Hermione asked.

"It might be," Tabitha agreed. "There are some other possibilities. Anyway, this morning, Sabrina decided to reveal her gift to Ron. It turns out Ron also has a gift. He made a prophecy."

Everyone looked at Ron with shocked surprise, except for Tabitha and Sabrina. Ron reminded himself that he didn't like being the center of attention.

"It doesn't tell us much that we didn't already know. Still. . . ." Tabitha quoted, "The Dark One Hides and Plots,
/Dreaming of Revenge against the One-He-Has-Not-Killed./
The-Boy-Who-Lived Finds Strength
/From the Ones Pledged to His Soul./
Let No One stand between them when they Clash,
/For if they do, they shall not last./
Let the Boy Prepare, let the Dark One plot.
/When the Time Comes, only One survives./"


"Not very helpful," Hermione agreed.

"Sorry," Ron said in a hurt tone, "it's not exactly something I can control!"

"I didn't mean it that way!" Hermione protested. She frowned as Sabrina started to rub Ron's shoulders to help him calm down.

"Now, even if no one can safely insert themselves between Harry and Voldemort, to go with the just most obvious meaning, that does not mean Harry faces Voldemort alone!" Tabitha stated. "Our job," she said, indicating the adults, "is to help Harry, and the rest of you, train, so that you are all prepared. It is all our jobs, except for perhaps Sabrina's, to prepare and fight with Harry. Even if he must face Voldemort alone in the end, it's our job to make certain he gets to fight that fight in the best condition possible, and to clean up afterwards. Neville and his family, and others, suffered after Voldemort's first defeat because the Ministry didn't clean up properly. We will, this time."

"Will you be in a position to?" Harry asked Dorff. "How much longer will you be running the Ministry?"

"Probably only until the end of next June, July, or August. If Voldemort hasn't been defeated by then, we'll still be running security."

"But . . . but won't the Ministry be back in full control?" Hermione asked.

"We've struck a deal returning limited sovereignty until Voldemort is defeated," Dorff replied. "That gives a lot of local control back, while enabling us to keep up the fight. Some in the Ministry don't like it, but since their only other alternative is Voldemort . . . well, we hope we've weeded out those who might support him."

"Now, I want you each to return to your bedrooms, and I do mean alone!" Tabitha instructed the teens. "Think about what you've learned. This afternoon, after lunch, we'll try to answer any questions we have answers to, and then it's time to tell Harry and Neville more stories of their parents, and the war."



Right before lunch, Harry had a visitor. "Professor Spellman. Come on in."

"Full day already."

Yes, it has been. It was . . . odd, hearing about Ron's prophesy, even if it didn't say anything really new."

"No, it didn't, but prophecies often reenforce one another if you associate with those with the Gift."

"I wonder how they're all taking it."

"Ginny is a bit upset about the prophecies themselves, Hermione and Ron aren't happy that you didn't tell them about the original one. Neville had a good idea of what the prophecy said, and Luna knew, of course. None seemed surprised."

"I was," Harry said in a grumbling voice.

"Well, the rest of us have a greater appreciation of you than you do, Harry."

"I'm sorry your vow dragged you back to Britain."

Tabitha glared at Harry, which made him squirm a little. "If I weren't your teacher, I'd slap the back of your head! Harry, do you want Voldemort to win?"

"What? Of course not!"

"Now, he's the most powerful Dark Wizard in a few centuries. Why do you think you should be able to beat him and his forces by yourself?"

"I don't. . . ."

"Then smarten up! Yes, you have to defeat Voldemort, but if you keep pushing us away, you'll be facing Voldemort and whatever allies he picks up!"

"I know, and that doesn't mean I can't hate it, can I?"

"No, hate it all you want, but you have to move away from that feeling. It doesn't do anything except make you miserable, and you've had a miserable enough life without your adding to it."

"That's easy for you to say."

Tabitha frowned. "Come here, boy!" she commanded.

Harry's eyes went wide. Tabitha walked over to him and grabbed his head between her hands. Harry was too startled to do any of his Occlumency exercises, and they wouldn't have helped much, since Tabitha was sharing knowledge, not trying to take it from him.

Harry felt the terror she had felt when she had woken up for the first time at the Ysgol, not even knowing if she was a boy or a girl. He felt the thrill and fear she had felt when Marcus Malfoy had tried to kill her. He saw the Death Eaters who had attacked the Old Believers being burned alive in the distance. He felt the losses of her friends killed over the years, the pain of childbirth, emotional pain from the betrayals of her lovers. He felt her adrenaline and fear as she fought in fire-fights that made his experiences at the Ministry look tame. He felt her revulsion at cleaning up the scenes of several massacres. Tabitha paused between the horrors, allowing Harry to wonder for a moment if the Patil twins even knew they had been triplets -- the third girl was being partially butchered for a dark ritual just as the Confederation forces had arrived. Harry felt the revulsion Tabitha had felt for herself after she had angrily killed the two Death Eaters who had just cut out the baby's liver. He felt the terror Tabitha had felt when the alarm announcing the attack on Godric's Hollow had sounded, and her relief when she had arrived and saw Harry safe in Hagrid's arms.

Tabitha picked Harry up and tossed him onto the sofa. "Do you still think you have a monopoly on suffering, Harry? Shall I ask Neville to relive being a two year old under the Cruciatus? Ginny to relive the terrors of waking up with blood on her hands? Lloyd losing his brother? Tom witnessing a human sacrifice?"

"No," he mumbled.

"I would think not. You have a burden, Harry, but you are far from the only person in this home to have one. You have to face and kill Voldemort. That is not an easy thing to live with, but a number of us live with worse."

"I think it's going to be harder living with it now that everyone knows about it," Harry grumbled.

"Probably the number went from about fifteen to nineteen. Not exactly a horde of people. Probably the only one you think you can't trust, although I know I can, is my daughter." Tabitha caught Harry's chin with her right hand. "You're a good person, Harry, but sometimes you just get too introspective and moody for your own good."

"I was a lot worse last year," Harry retorted.

Tabitha frowned. "I'm sorry about that. I wish we could have arrived at least a year sooner."

"I would be happy if you had arrived just a few weeks sooner," Harry retorted. "Politics, right?"

"Right."

"You said you didn't really know my father or Sirius, right?"

"Also right. I met Sirius in passing, and that was it. The same was true of Remus and Pettigrew. I knew your father slightly. Henry spent a Christmas with the Marauders, you, and your mother. You'll want to talk with him. I spent the day with Neville, Alice, and Frank. I knew Alice fairly well, although I was a bit closer with your mother. I'd even say we were friends, although in large part because we were stuck together a lot of the time. Here," she held out a present.

"Bit early, isn't it?"

"We Old Believers exchange presents from the solstice through Twelfth Night. So, just open the present."

As Harry suspected, it was a photo diptych. One side showed infant Harry sitting on Tabitha's lap while his mother supported him. The other side showed a larger group -- the six North Americans, Alice Longbottom, his mother, and the two babies.

"Lloyd took those. I gave something similar to Neville, along with this." She produced a match box from her pocket, and enlarged it into a large photo album. "All your friends will be here in a moment to take you to lunch. Enjoy -- we all took photos, and Lloyd's been working on putting these together. We'll be in the library, if you have any questions. If not, we'll talk with you all after dinner. It's time we told you some of our happier stories."

"Thank you," Harry said.