CHAPTER THREE:  AVATAR

5 December 1993

It is so unfair!  Mum’s letter came today.  She’s letting Ron stay at Hogwarts over Christmas, to keep Harry company no doubt, but says that since I am “only twelve” that she wants me at home.  She let Ron stay at Hogwarts last Christmas too, and he was “only twelve” himself then and the year before that, when he was an immature eleven. 

I knew this was going to happen, I just knew it!  She’s being way over protective and its either because I’m a girl or because of what happened last year, or because I’m the youngest and she just doesn’t want to let go - or maybe all three.

So back to the Burrow I’ll go.  It will be nice to be able to get out to my garden again, if Mum will let me out of her sight for even that long.  Watch, she’ll insist on coming along or something, or in sending someone with me to be on the safe side.

It’s not all because of me wanting to be able to call the elements.  I think that I could do that now, silently, while standing right next to Mum in the kitchen if I wanted to.  The thing is, I sort of like to let myself go.  It’s a much more intense feeling.  Mira says that is’ almost as intense as a sexual climax.

I’m not certain if mention of sexual climax should have embarrassed me, but to be perfectly honest, after some of the things Tom showed me the concept of having an orgasm seems almost tame by comparison.  But I’m certain it’s not.  I mean, if it were boring there wouldn’t be so many people wanting to get into each others’ knickers, and not just grown ups either.

Look at Mandy, she and my other dear roommates talk about boys all the time; what it would be like to hold their hand and kiss them and what they think it must be like to have a boy take their clothes off, and they’re only twelve!  It would make a logical sort of sense that it just gets worse (or better) as the years go by and the hormones kick us over the edge (sexually speaking).

So it doesn’t really surprise me when I see sixth and seventh years emerging from unused classrooms looking rather ruffled, or even to see my own brother, Percy, Mr. Perfect Head Boy Himself, come in after curfew with his shirt on front to back and love bites on his neck.

But Mira didn’t seem surprised at my taking the comparison of calling the elements to sexual climax in stride.  I think she knows more about me than she’s letting on.  She seems to know exactly how to put things so that I’ll understand what she’s talking about, but she doesn’t talk down to me, either, interesting concept for an adult.

11 December 1993

Well, I did it.  I finally told Dumbledore about Mira.  I thought he’d be upset, or perhaps concerned for my safety when I told him about how she appears and some of the things we talk about, but he merely seemed curious.  Like Hagrid, he probably believes that the double circle keeps me from harm, and it very well may, but even so, I don’t thank that Mira would ever attempt to harm me.  Anyway, he is going to come with me this evening when I go to the clearing to meet her.  I’m supposed to meet him in the Entrance Hall after supper.

“What are you writing, Ginny?”  Colin’s rather shrill voice made Ginny start and blot her page.

“What?  Colin!  You startled me!”

“Sorry, Ginny, but is it a story?  Is it?  Can I read it?”

“No, Colin, it’s not a story.  It’s my journal.”

“Oh.”  He looked rather crestfallen.  “but you like to write, Ginny, yeah?”

“Well yes, I do actually.”

“Oh good, because Professor McGonagall wants me to start a school newspaper.  She said I’m always taking pictures, and so instead of reporting me for the pictures of Flitwick and the pineapples she said that she was charging me with starting a newspaper so that I could make myself useful.”

“That sounds great, Colin, but I’m sure you can find someone who has more experience.”

“It’s a brand new thing, Ginny, no one at Hogwarts has any experience, so will you help me?”

Ginny stared at Colin.  Her mouth opened to tell him no, but at seeing the look of glowing anticipation on his face, she closed it again.

“I — I suppose so.”

“Oh, great!  That’s great, Ginny!  Meet me up in the Common Room right after supper, I’m going to make you Content Editor.  You can arrange for people to write the articles and maybe even write stuff yourself.  I’ll do the photos and the layout and production, oh, and circulation of course.”

“Colin, I-”

“It’s going to be so much fun, Ginny, you’ll see!  But we need to get started right away!”

“Coin, I-”

“We need to draw up a list of sections first thing and then-”

“Colin!”

He looked around at her, beaming.

“I’d love to help you, Colin.  I will help you, but not tonight.  I have a meeting with the headmaster.”

“Oooh!” said Colin, his eyes now blazing.  “Can you ask him if we could do an interview?  I thought one teacher and one student ‘spotlight’ a month.”

“Sure, Colin.  I’ll ask him.”

“But we need to get started, Ginny.”

“How about we meet in the Common Room tomorrow, Colin, right after supper? And we can start drawing up that list.”

“Cool!” said Colin, not positively bouncing in excitement.  “I really appreciate this, Ginny, you’ve got no idea!”

Still shaking her head over Colin’s enthusiasm, Ginny pushed back from the Gryffindor table and made her way out to the Entrance Hall.

“What seems to be the trouble, Miss Weasley?” said Dumbledore kindly.  He was standing by the double oak front door, his long silver hair and beard glowing in the torchlight.

“Well, It’s Colin, sir.  He, ah-”

“Enlisted you for his newspaper, did he?” said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.  “I thought he might!”

“But sir, I don’t know how to write for a newspaper!  And I don’t think I could go around asking other people for articles!”

  “I think you’d do an admirable job, Miss Weasley,” said Dumbledore genially as he swung his midnight blue cloak over his shoulders.

“You suggested it to him didn’t you?”

“Me?  Certainly not!  Although I may have mentioned it to Professor McGonagall.”

Ginny stopped in the fastening of her own cloak and stared at Dumbledore for a full minute before throwing her head back and laughing outright.  Several students, including Harry, Ron and Hermione (who were headed up the marble staircase) stopped at the sound of her voice.

“What’s up, Ginny?” asked Ron bemusedly. 

“I’ve asked your sister to step outside with me so we could have a few minutes private conversation,” said Dumbledore smilingly.

Harry, who had turned so fast at the sound of Ginny’s laugh that he seemed to have cricked his neck, regarded her through narrowed eyes as Dumbledore spoke.

“Oh, well, have fun then,” said Ron.  He appeared rather startled.

The clearing was deserted when Ginny and the Headmaster arrived.

“Professor,” said Ginny as they approached the standing stones.  “How long have you known about these circles?”

“Hagrid told me about it years ago, after he stumbled across it by mistake.”

“But Lily Potter-”

“She was Lily Evans then.”

“Yes, of course.  Lily Evans.  How did she find it?”

“I never thought to ask.”

“But surely you investigated the circle when you found out about it.”

“When Hagrid suggested it as a possible location in which you could practice I came down and took a look around.  That was the first time I had set foot in it.”

Ginny frowned at the nearest standing stone.

“Lily Evans was a clever witch, Miss Weasley, but those were different times, and these are different circumstances.  Lily Evans was never in any danger when she used these circles as her own personal space.  There was no need for me to ensure her safety, for there was no threat on her in particular.”

“And there is a threat on me?”

“Several actually.  You are a Weasley, for one.  Your Father is influential in the Ministry, whether he believes it or not, and there is always the chance that someone could target you for that reason.  You are also a known friend of Harry Potter.  That alone makes you a target.  But now, well, you do realize how rare Natural Elementals are, Miss Weasley?”

Ginny nodded, watching the Headmaster warily.

“Then you must realize that a true Natural Elemental could turn the tide in our favor in an all-out war against Lord Voldemort.”

“The thought,” said Ginny in rather clipped tones, “the thought had crossed my mind.”  The idea of anyone using her to achieve their own ends . . .

“Miss Weasley, let me make one thing perfectly clear.  I will not now, nor will I ever ask you to use your gifts against your will.”

“Sir?”

“But if you were to use them to protect those you — love — to give them strength in their battles, we would have a decided advantage.  But we digress.  I believe you were going to introduce me to your friend.”

“She never comes until after I have called up the elements, and then only during the full moon.”

“A trigger,” said Dumbledore softly, more to himself than to Ginny.  “Most interesting.”  He withdrew to the base of the giant oak.  “Now then, Miss Weasley, pretend that I am nothing more than a shadow and do what needs to be done.”

Ginny walked slowly into the stone circle.  Her wand, which she had been holding while they traversed the distance from the castle to the clearing, she now slipped into the pocket of her jeans.  She stood quite still for several minutes, her arms at her sides and her face turned up to the silvery orb of the full moon as she tried to clear her mind. From somewhere not too far away a wolf began to howl, making her shiver.

“Come all to me!” she cried, reaching her hands towards the sphere above them.  “All be with me!”  Then, without understanding why, she added, “All be in me!”

They came at once, in a vortex of raw power, enveloping her.  The faint tremblings of earth, the swirlings of air, the liquidy gurgling of water and, finally, the sensations of white-hot flames skittering across her skin.

As always, when she felt the raw power pouring through her, Ginny threw back her head and laughed outright.  But this time, this time the powers didn’t merely swirl through and around her and then stop.  This time they filled her.

Amazed and not a little scared, Ginny watched as the ground seemed to fall away beneath her until the Hagrid sized stones seemed only to come to her knees, and yet she knew that she still stood where she had been, still Ginny-sized.  On some deep level she realized that it was her awareness that was expanding.  And indeed, she could see everything; the fish leaping out of the nearly frozen lake, the eagle diving to snatch it up, the squirrel digging furtively beneath the pine, looking for the nuts it had buried in September.  She was the fish. She was the Eagle.  She was the squirrel and the nut and the pine.

She could hear everything; the mournful cry of the wolf, the answering growling groan of a werewolf, the distant shout of a student being taken by surprise, the hiss of the wick in Professor McGonagall’s lit oil lamp and the soft shushing of the snowflakes that had begun to fall.  But she didn’t just hear them, she was the wolf and the werewolf, the student and the oil in the lamp.

Her sense of taste, touch, even smell, all were amplified a thousand fold.  She knew then, from one heartbeat to the next, that while it was the Akasha that was allowing her to see things this clearly, that it was, in truth, the way things were.  This is what magic was; the tapping into the web of energy to which all living creatures contribute.

Even as she became aware of it, she realized that she could see it.  It was stretched out to infinity around her, the strands connecting pulsating spheres of energy, which she knew instinctively to be the living things surrounding her.  The strands themselves were softly glowing, vibrating, she could feel the connectedness of all things in her very blood.  She just had time to think “Oh my God!” before the power that had filled her began to drain rapidly, like water from a bathtub when the plug is pulled.  Darkness closed in around the edges of her vision and she knew no more.

Silence.

Darkness.

Absolute quiet and dark.

But then, at the very edges of her consciousness, she heard voices.

“It was that last bit at the end, wasn’t it? 

That was Dumbledore’s voice.  Professor Dumbledore, her Headmaster.

“Be in me.  Yes.  It was an invitation not only to the elements, but to their greater form.”

That was Mira.

“The Goddess, yes, the essence of all things.  Does this happen often?”

“No, never.  She’s only ever used the phrase “come all to me, come be with me” which is the formal request for the Elemental presence.”

Ginny tried to open her eyes, but they seemed to be glued shut.  Her arms and legs, too, seemed weighted somehow, as if she had tripled in weight or as if her body had been stuffed with cotton.  As sensation slowly came back to the rest of her body she realized that she was lying flat on her back, on the ground from the feel of it.  Her head was cradled on someone’s lap and someone else was holding her hand.

“If you must know, I’m worried about her.”

“There is nothing to fear, Professor.”

“The energy invoked tonight was too much, it could have killed her.”

“It didn’t though,” Mira pointed out.  “And it won’t.”

Ginny wasn’t certain whether she was more appalled at the way Mira was talking to Professor Dumbledore, or more in awe of her courage.  She’d never heard anyone speak so informally to the Headmaster before.

“I can’t take that risk.  She is too important to the entire operation.”

“Operation?” said Mira in a sneering voice.  “You make it sound so impersonal Albus.  Clinical even.  These are children’s lives you’re playing with!”

“And in the hands of these children,” said Dumbledore in an uncharacteristically fierce voice, “lies the fate of humanity!  It is they who will decide the future of all beings, both magical and non-magical!”

“But your main concern of course is what Harry means to the wizarding world.”

“Yes, of course, but I’m not stupid.  I know that without her he is just a shell, Mira, a husk.  He doesn’t realize it yet, but those two are Soulmates, one is not complete without the other.”

“Oh he knows, Albus,” said Mira softly.  “He’s always known.”  She paused.  When she spoke again it sounded as if she were choosing her words very carefully.  “He knows, but at this point in time he does not remember.”

There were several seconds of absolute silence.

“How do you know this?” whispered Dumbledore at last.

“Hind sight is 20/20 professor.”

“You mean-?”

“Don’t you recognize me?”

“Of course I do, but I thought it must be an old man’s mind playing tricks.”

“The only trick, Professor, is time.”

“Then it all works out, in the end?”

“Yes.”

“But how?”

“I can not tell you how,” said Mira softly.  Her honey-rich voice sounded incredibly sad.  “If I tell you how things come to be there would be the temptation to do them differently, or better, and then they might not happen at all.”

Dumbledore gave a deep, shuddering sigh.

“But I can give you a glimpse of what it is like — after.”

“Go on.”

“It is not until his sixth year that Harry comes to terms with what he feels for our Ginny.” 

Ginny felt a hand brush the hair back from her face and realized that it is Mira on whose lap her head is resting.

“Suffice it to say that they discover each other and, in fact, become heart-joined.”

“Not just hand-fasted?” Dumbledore said shakily.

“No.  Theirs is a marriage of souls.  But their love will be discovered — initially- in the usual way.”  Mira chuckled, then added, “Well, in as usual a way as Harry does anything.”  They both laughed at that and even Ginny felt herself suppressing a smile.

Since when did Harry do anything normally?

“But in the end, Albus, Harry does destroy Voldemort.  He destroys him, but at a terrible price.”

Ginny could feel Mira shudder beneath her.

“And it is his bond with our Ginny — a bond that will be forged deeper than anyone yet realizes - that allows him to make the ultimate sacrifice.”

“You mean-?”

“Not death, No.  Harry does not die.  What I speak of is an ancient magic, one that binds him to Tom Riddle’s essence and allows him to sever the connection between Tom’s body and soul.”

“But that was done before.”

“Yes, but this time, this time Harry uses the ancient magic to take the process a step farther.  He uses it to absorb Tom’s essence, incorporate his very energy into himself and thus render him harmless.”

“He becomes Tom?”

“No.  Tom becomes Harry.”

“How?”

“I can’t tell you how, Professor, or when.  But rest assured that Harry does indeed become your apprentice.  You will know when he is ready.  Teach him everything you know, Albus, all the ancient arts, even the forbidden ones.  He will need everything at his disposal.  Hold nothing back.  He will succeed,” Mira said softly, “but there will be great losses and — sacrifices — that will need to be dealt with.”

“He has already dealt with so much!” whispered Dumbledore.

“In the overall scheme of things, Albus, his trials have barely begun but here,” Ginny could feel Mira’s cool hands on her forehead, “here lies the key to his victory.”

“And he will have power the Dark Lord knows not,” said Dumbledore, his voice trembling.

“Love,” said Mira quietly.  “Love will fortify him Professor. Love will spur him to victory and will hone his senses, but it will also be his salvation, bringing him back from grave’s edge not once, but twice.”

“No one should have to deal with this,” whispered Dumbledore, and Ginnyc ould hear the tears in his voice.

“I wish you could see him now, Albus.  The work they are doing has brought great changes in the wizarding world.  Harry has taken the Order of the Phoenix public.”

Ginny could hear Dumbledore’s sharp intake of breath. Order of the Phoenix?  She’d never heard of such a thing before.

“The Order will be needed again?”

“Oh yes, I’m afraid so, but this time you’ll have an edge.”

“Severus, yes.”

“Anyway, the Order, as it stands in my time, is funded from Harry and Sirius’ combined estates.”

“Sirius Black?”

“You will understand in time, Professor.”

“I am sorry, please continue.”

Yes, please, thought Ginny to herself.

“The Order is now working to enlighten and educate selected Muggles to accept our presence as a first step to reuniting our world and rendering another Voldemort impossible.”

“Harry has done this?”

“With the help of his friends.”

They sat in silence for a full minute before Dumbledore spoke again.

“Is — is he Happy, Mira?”

“More happy than any mortal has a right to be,” said Mira, a smile in her voice.  “He and Ginny were married directly after his seventh year.  By that time there was no way to keep them apart.  It took five years to get the Order of the Phoenix up and running smoothly, and for awhile that took all their time and energy.  But now, now they have three children, all girls.  A pair of twins, they are eight years old now, and they look just like their mother, except for the green eyes, their names are Chandra and Mira — yes, she named her after me.  That of course was before she knew.  And then there’s the baby.  Well, she’s three, not exactly a baby anymore.  She looks just like her father, only her hair is curly and her eyes are hazel.  Her name is Syria.”

“I take it that we are going to find out something wholly surprising about Sirius Black,” said Dumbledore musingly.

“You could say that.  But you should know, Professor, that I’ve never known two people more deeply in love.  Theirs is a partnership for eternity, not just the physical plain.  And here’s something you might find of interest, all three of the Potter girls tested blue.”

“Incredible!”

“Yes, quite.  Even more interesting, both of George’s children did as well.”

“You’re kidding!  What about the other Weasley’s?”

“None of the rest tested positive, although I have to admit, I was certain that one of Ron’s children would test blue, there are six of them now you know, four boys and two girls.”

“I take it that he and Miss Granger finally settled their differences.”

“Hardly, they fight every day of the week, but seem happy for all of that.”

“Poor Hermione,” groaned Ginny, finally prising her eyes open.

“Ah!  Miss Weasley, you are awake at last.  Here,” Professor Dumbledore handed her a silver-engraved flask which he pulled from a pocket of his cloak.”

Ginny tipped the flask to her lips and swallowed, spluttering as the raw heat of what she assumed must be Firewhisky made its way to her stomach.

“How much did you hear?” asked Dumbledore as Mira helped Ginny to sit up.

“Something about George’s children testing blue,” lied Ginny smoothly.  “And then the bit about Ron and Hermione having six children.  Are you from the future then?”

Mira was silent for several moments, staring contemplatively at the hands folded in her lap.

“In a manner of speaking,” said Mira carefully.

“But you know how its going to turn out.”

“I have access to certain information pertaining to events which are in your future, yes.”

“But you won’t tell us anything about how those events come to pass I suppose,” said Ginny carefully, “that would make sense, because if you did, you could cause history to be changed.”

“Exactly.”

“Which means everything must turn out O.K. in the end, or you’d be trying to convince us to do something differently.”

Mira and Dumbledore were both staring at her now.

“I told you she was sharp,” said Mira at last, her smile was broad and all-encompassing.  “Now Ginny,” said Mira, turing to the younger girl and taking her by the shoulders.  “Do you realize what happened to you just now?”

“I — I saw everything!” said Ginny faintly.  “I was everything.  There was this web — this web of light and — and energy and — and . . .” her voice died away.  “I was Akasha,” she said finally, the wonder still apparent in her voice.

“You added the phrase, “be in me” to your incantation.  Do you realize what this did?” Mira asked her, her voice very calm.

Ginny shook her head.  She didn’t trust herself to speak.  She knew what she had done.  She had heard Mira tell Dumbledore what she had done, but she wasn’t quite ready to tell them that yet.

“You summoned the greater form of the elements.”

“The Goddess?”

“Yes.”

“You meant that she — she possessed me?  But if she possessed me, why do I remember it?”

“Well, she didn’t exactly possess you.  You invited her, so there was no coercion involved.  That is why you can remember.  You acted as a channel, or more precisely, like an avatar.”

“It was phenomenal,” said Ginny shakily, “but frightening at the same time.”

She wasn’t entirely certain that the experience was something she wanted to repeat any time in the near future.

“Channeling entities, calling forth the greater essence of the Goddess is not something common, Ginny, even among Elemental Magicians of any sort,” said Dumbledore seriously.  “Even if you do not choose to channel the greater essence again, you have left your calling card for the Others.”

“The Others?” asked Ginny weakly.

“Yes.  Others.  Other beings, or, more precisely, other powers.  These are beings — entities — that are not manifested physically but who wish to interact with physically manifested individuals.  These are lesser beings; well, greater than us, but lesser than the Goddess.  They are always on the lookout for a channel of communication.”

“You mean me?”

“Yes,” said Mira and Dumbledore together.

“So, because not they know that I am here they might try and possess me?”

“Yes,” said Mira softly.  “And I’m afraid it’s not a question of if, but more a question of when.”

Ginny shivered.

“If it is any consolation, they usually have humanity’s best interests at heart,” Mira added, chaffing Ginny’s now cold hands between her own.

“A Seer?” Dumbledore said softly, giving Mira a piercing look.

“It is one of the risks that come with being an Elemental Practitioner,” said Mira, shrugging.

“But what if I don’t want to be a — a  - Seer?” whispered Ginny.

“There are protection charms, spells, that might work for a time,” said Mira musingly.  “They might give you time enough to come to grips with your gifts, your powers.  But eventually you will have to learn to deal with the threat yourself, including acting as a channel if so required.”  Mira turned to Dumbledore, addressing him specifically now.  “I’m afraid, Albus, that given my apparent — situation — that it will have to be you who casts the protection charms.”

“Gladly,” said Dumbledore gravely.  “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

12 December 1993

I stayed in my dorm all day today.  Yes.  Ginny Weasley skipped all of her classes.  I had to!  I couldn’t sit through Charms and History of Magic and actually concentrate, not after everything that happened yesterday. 

Where do I start?  With the calling forth of the elements going, well, further than it ever had before?  In hearing the conversation between Mira and Dumbledore that spoke of Harry’s and my children?  To be honest, I was still trying to wrap my

brain around the bit about his getting his act together in his sixth year when Mira dropped the bombshell about our children.  Our children.  Harry’s and mine.  This is not merely a schoolgirl crush or wishful thinking on my part.  This is for real.   Harry is mine.  Mine!  No matter what happens between now and (for me) fifth year, we are going to end up together. 

Damn.  You know what the hardest part is going to be?  It is going to be acting normally around him — possibly while watching him make a fool out of himself over other girls.  You tell me.  How am I possibly going to be able to survive the two or three more years?  (Mira didn’t say when during Harry’s sixth year that we get together, simply that it was during his sixth year, so it could be as long as three years!)

I’ll tell you how I’m going to survive.  I’ll survive by pretending that I don’t know any more than Harry does right not and trying my damnedest to pretend that everything is happening naturally.