A New Beginning (Sequel to A Different Beginning)

Chapter Eleven - Messages and Dreams

Ron's entire body was burning and in pain, but at the same time he didn't feel anything, just numb beyond belief. He had no idea how long he had been in here. The minutes felt like hours and he couldn't even begin to count the days but he knew it had been a while; weeks at that. It was beginning to take a toll on him. He could feel it.

He also had no idea why he was still alive or how he had managed to block his mind. Not to mention the fact that he swore he was hearing Harry in his head. Now, he just thought he was going crazy. Had he wanted out so badly that he was hearing things, hoping to get out?

"I'll find you mate, I promise."

Far away, chained to the wall, those words echoed in his mind and Ron nodded. "Hurry".

Had be been going crazy that day?

Ron wasn't really sure of anything anymore. All he knew was that he was still alive and still being tortured on a regular basis. He was blocking his mind in a way that even he didn't fully understand. He wondered if all the talk about Occulmency that he had discussed with Harry had rubbed off on him in some way. Something must have happened because as far as he knew, there was no way he had that kind of power. Where had he learnt it?

Unless of course he just willed it so hard that it had happened? He laughed at himself ... right, that was it.

The door to his cell opened and he turned his head to see who entered. His eyes darkened at the sight of the one that used to be his old rat. Pettigrew closed the cell door behind him as he stepped into the room and he placed a bowl of water with a clean cloth on the table next to him.

"Pity you're still chained up," he murmured as he dipped the cloth into the bowl of water.

Ron glared at him. "Get out."

Pettigrew grinned. "Well, now, that's not anyway for you to be talking to someone here to help you now is it?"

"Like you're really going to help me."

"Well, I might." He dabbed the cloth at the fresh cuts over Ron's chest, admiring the deep gashes for a moment. "The Dark Lord really did a number on you this time. These knife wounds are quite deep. Nice of him to use the enchanted knife, so as not to hit any internal organs; we wouldn't want you up and dying on us now, would we?"

"Yeah, he's a real prince."

Pettigrew chuckled to himself. "The Prince of Darkness." When Ron didn't smile he sighed. "Now come on, Ron, I'm just having a bit of fun here. Here I am, tending to your wounds. I wouldn't want you to get hurt too badly, after all." He moved his face closer and his beady eyes stared into Ron's blue ones. "Did he use the spiked whip yet?" Ron's eyes darkened and Pettigrew smiled. "Shame, I love to watch when he uses that one."

He was quiet for a few moments as Pettigrew continued to wipe up the blood and clean the wounds.

"You can make it all stop, you know. The Dark Lord can give you anything you want. He can make you feel things you've never felt before. He can give you power and give you strength in ways you never imagined. He only wants a few answers in return."

"I'm not going to betray my best friend."

Pettigrew grinned. "Why? It's not that bad. I betrayed my friends. Pity they didn't actually die, it would have made my life so much simpler."

Ron spit on him.

Pettigrew wiped the spit from his face. "Why you little..."

"Wormtail! Leave him be." Voldemort demanded as he stood in the doorway.

Pettigrew looked like he wanted to protest but he nodded and left them alone, closing the cell door behind him.

Voldemort sneered as he looked at Ron. "I can't blame him for being angry, that was rather disrespectful of you. He was only involving you in polite conversation. It's not like he was torturing you in any way. Not like I plan to."

Ron didn't say anything. Instead he watched as Voldemort walked over to the small table and he picked up a long iron poker. Voldemort held it in the fire he had made appear next to it and he grinned at Ron.

"You know, I'm only doing this to get your attention. If you would just answer my questions we wouldn't have to go through this. It would save a lot of time and energy. I have other things to do, you know. Prophecies to figure out. Little girls to ... what's the word I'm looking for ... give me sight. I'm a busy man, Ronald Weasley, and I'm getting tired of waiting."

Ron shrugged, the chains rubbing against his wrists. "Not my problem."

Voldemort's eyes hardened. "Oh, I can make it your problem."

Ron closed his eyes at the sight of the red hot poker coming towards him and then he screamed.

*********

Harry sat in Dumbledore's office that evening waiting patiently for the Headmaster to return. There had been some sort of emergency Order thing that he had rushed off into and Harry was hoping that it had something to do with Ron. It had been a little over two weeks now and he was getting tired of waiting. He needed to find his friend.

The office door opened and Harry spun around. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in surprise at seeing him as he closed the door behind him.

"Well, Harry, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

Harry stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. "The Order emergency thing that caused you to leave during dinner did it have -?"

Dumbledore held up his hand to stop him. "No, I'm afraid not. We're still coming up empty when it comes to finding Mr. Weasley. Frankly, I'm running out of ideas."

Harry nodded. "Sir, something ... I might have imagined it. I don't know. But I was thinking in my mind about Ron and how I needed him here and then I kind of stated mentally that I would find him and I promised."

"That's understandable, Harry. Making such promises to yourself is a good thing. We will find Mr. Weasley and young Mira. The only problem is, we don't know where to look."

Harry shook his head. "No sir, I mean, I heard ... after I said that in my mind I swear that I heard Ron's voice answer back."

Dumbledore tilted his head to the right. "What did he say?"

"Hurry. I thought I imagined it. I was positive I did. I mean, there's no way that I can just communicate with Ron randomly. That's Ginny's expertise but her problem is that even if she gets into his mind unless he figures out how to respond we know nothing."

"Why do you think you imagined it?"

Harry shrugged. "Because I tried to do it again and I got nothing. But last night I had this dream ... I'm not even sure if it was a dream or a vision. I was seeing through the eyes of Voldemort."

Dumbledore glanced at Harry in alarm. "That hasn't happened since you saw the attack on Arthur Weasley. Are you sure?"

"I don't know, sir. I don't have any way to be sure. But I feel like it was real."

"What did you see?"

"Voldemort was torturing Ron with hot pokers. I don't know where he was. In a cell of some sort and he was chained to the wall, but I don't know the location. Voldemort wants to know about me, about the prophecy. I don't think he was aware of the fact that I was in his mind."

Dumbledore nodded. "Apparently not, but the question is, how did you get into his mind? You've mastered Occulmency and we haven't had this come across in two years. Unless ..."

"Unless what, Professor?"

"Maybe you did it subconsciously. You're so desperate to find Mr. Weasley that you may have pushed your connection with Voldemort through your scar to see something, to find a clue."

Harry frowned at those words. "How would I do that?"

"Easily enough, with your power. Your mental abilities must be very strong and complex. Harry, I suggest that you speak to your father about this. There might be a way for you to consciously push into Voldemort's mind and figure out where he is. But there is also the possibility that it was a fluke, a catch when both of you had your shields down and your scar connected. We won't know until you run it by James. He might know the answer." Dumbledore explained.

"If I figured out how to do that, could I find Ron?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "It's a good possibility. But Harry, don't get your hopes up on this power. Even if it's true, it might take you weeks if not months to perfect it."

Harry nodded as he headed towards the door. "That may be, but it's worth a shot. Thanks, Professor."

Dumbledore watched Harry leave and he leaned back against his desk. If Harry really could control the connection, then finding Ron would be one of the easier tasks that needed to be done.

Harry hurried up to his dormitory and pulled out his mirror. When James' face appeared on the mirror he quickly explained what he and Dumbledore had discussed. "So what do you think?"

James sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair. "I've got no idea to be honest. I don't know what you did, Harry. You were dreaming when it happened and for all we know it could have been a dream. I know you're worried about Ron, maybe your self-conscious just made you have a nightmare about what's happening to him."

"Da, it wasn't a dream ... it was real. I know it."

"Well, if it was real, and you somehow connected with Voldemort's mind, I have no idea how you did it. You'll have to figure that out on your own. I'm sorry that I can't be of more help."

Harry sighed. "That's what I was afraid of. Alright, thanks, Da."

James nodded. "No problem. Now get some sleep and keep me posted on that research you and Ginny are doing. The Flame and the Conqueror might have some untold powers that we don't know about yet."

"Right, good night, Da."

Harry watched his father's face disappear from the mirror and he sighed. He couldn't concentrate on anything except trying to find his friend. He needed Ron back and not soon, right now.

********

Delilah was lying on her bed. The clock beside her told her that she should just give up and go to sleep because she was not going to finish her Potions essay tonight. She was too unfocused. She heard someone leave the room and wondered who else couldn't sleep that evening. She tapped her quill impatiently on her textbook and let out a tiny shriek when an owl came speeding towards her. She ducked just in time to narrowly miss it as it crashed into her pillow.

The small owl was one she didn't recognize and he stumbled for a moment before holding out his leg. She accepted the letter and the owl flew off into the night. Delilah watched it go for a moment before she unfolded the letter and began to read.

I just thought you should know ... he's not what he says he is.

Delilah frowned at the note for a moment before her eyes found the photographs sitting behind them. Draco and Pansy, making love; Draco and Pansy kissing in the courtyard; Draco and Pansy staring at each other, so much in love ... this couldn't be right! The longer she stared at the pictures the more she began to wonder, until finally she decided that the only way to know for sure was to ask him.

Merlin knew, she prayed it wasn't true.

She scooped the pictures into her hands and headed down the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Draco was going to have a few questions to answer. Tonight.

********

A warm naked body snuggled up against him and he grinned at the touch. His dreams had always been vivid but this one seemed to be something special. Delilah, he thought, murmuring her name out loud as well.

This caused the woman to pause for a moment before she moved closer to him.

Draco's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer as he murmured in his sleep. "What are you doing here?"

Pansy grinned at the sleepy satisfaction that came from his voice and began to plant tiny kisses down his chest.

The dormitory door opened quietly and she grinned to herself. Showtime!

Delilah approached Draco's bed cautiously. She knew that she should just wait until the morning to confront him, but she just couldn't wait. The pictures ... they had to be wrong. Her heart was practically screaming at her that they were wrong, but still she had to know. She pulled back the bed curtain and her hand flew to her mouth on a gasp.

Draco was there alright, but he was far from alone. Pansy was in bed with him, obviously nude as she planted tiny kisses down his bare chest. Draco had a satisfied smirk on his face and his eyes were closed as if he was lost in pleasures.

Tears rolled down Delilah's cheeks as she shook her head. It just couldn't be happening. She dropped the pictures on the bed and shoved at both of them. The two rolled right off the bed and Draco bolted upright, staring around as if he was in a daze.

"How could you?" Delilah shrieked, not even caring that she was probably waking Ted up. "After everything that you said and ... no! You're a right bastard, Draco, and I hate you!"

"Delilah?" Draco murmured. He was still half asleep and not fully comprehending what was going on around him. Then he spotted Pansy who was holding a sheet up to her chest and he paled. "Pansy?"

Pansy smiled at him. "Mmm, hi, Draco."

He shook his head as Delilah headed towards the door. "Delilah, wait! It's not what you think!" He exclaimed, standing up. He was pleased to see that he was wearing his boxers.

Ted had awoken up by now and he climbed out of bed, pushing his bed curtains aside. "What's going on?" He took one look at Pansy who was still sitting in a pile of blankets and he shook his head. "Hell, Malfoy, what happened to not being interesting in Parkinson?"

"Draco, just stay away from me!" Delilah exclaimed, tears in her eyes. "I trusted you!"

"Delilah, wait, please just wait. I - I can explain."

Pansy smirked now as she grabbed her red satin nightgown and slipped it on. "Please, Draco, how can you possibly explain this one? You were making love to me."

"Shut it, Pansy! I was not making love to you! I didn't even bloody know it was you and I was still half asleep! I would never ... especially not with you!" He exclaimed angrily.

The dormitory door flew open and Snape stepped inside, his eyes prowling around the room. "What is going on in here? I've had noise complaints rising! It's the middle of the night!"

Delilah wiped tears from her eyes. "Nothing, Professor. I just realized what a huge mistake I made in trusting Draco."

Snape's eyes fell upon Pansy and he sneered. "If Draco is denying it, he's telling the truth, Miss Knight. His fath - the harlot isn't his type."

Pansy paled. "Excuse me, Professor?"

"You heard me, Miss Parkinson. I've taken a lot from you this year. You've been sneaking out of the castle to go Merlin knows where, and I'm tired of it. Now you're up here in Draco and Theodore's dorm room causing more problems. Do not speak! I can see that whatever is about to come out of your mouth is a lie. Thirty points from Slytherin and a week's worth of detentions. Now get to bed. All of you! I don't want to hear another peep until morning."

Snape waited until Pansy and Delilah had left the room before he turned to Draco. "Miss Parkinson's up to something, Draco, I don't know what it is, but watch yourself. You've got a lot of explaining to do to Miss Knight. Oh, and if I find out that I just defended you and you were fooling around with Miss Parkinson, then we're going to have a problem. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Draco murmured.

Snape closed the door behind him and Ted whistled. "Damn mate, talk about some drama. What the hell just happened?"

Draco brushed his hair out of his eyes and shrugged. "I've got no idea. I was having this deliciously naughty dream about Delilah, then I felt someone cuddle into me! I just thought ... my dreams have always been vivid. I don't know, I mean, I was half-asleep ... and the next thing I know Delilah's shoving me off the bed."

"Why was Delilah even here?" Ted asked.

Draco shrugged. "Now that's a good question. She never comes up to the dorm in the middle of the night. Speaking of ... what the hell was Pansy doing here? What was she trying to pull with tonight's spectacle?"

"No idea, mate."

Draco sighed and tugged his blankets back to his bed. That's when he noticed the pictures on his mattress and he picked them up. The words that came out of his mouth would have made the devil gasp.

"What?" Ted exclaimed.

Draco held up the photos. "Things are about to get a lot uglier."

******

Ginny placed her hands over her eyes as she poured over the books on ancient magic. Her eyes and her head felt as if it would explode from all of the researching, and she felt like they were getting no where. How were they supposed to find anything about themselves and their powers in books is something she would never know. She closed the book she was reading and leaned over to lay her head on Harry's shoulder.

"I give up."

He grinned at her. "Now what kind of attitude is that? Dumbledore seems to think we're going to find something here."

Ginny sighed. "Like what? The prophecy says I'm the Flame and you're the Conqueror, or we assume that's what it means. But it's pretty obvious what that means. I'm the Flame because I've got the red-hair, the temper, I actually have the ability to make fire appear out of thin air and use it as a weapon. I'm powerful and I'm an empath. You're the Conqueror because that's what you do is conquer, at least when it comes to Voldemort. But you also conquer in your magic. You're so powerful, what with the elementals and everything. Then you defeated Voldemort when you were a baby, and then again when you were eleven, an image of him when you were twelve, you faced him and escaped when you were fourteen, and again when you were fifteen. Harry, that makes you, the Conqueror of Voldemort. What else can we possibly learn?"

Harry sighed and took her hand in his. Both of them jumped when it sparked and Harry stared into her eyes for a moment. "What about our connection?"

Ginny's eyebrow rose. "Meaning?"

"Well, you explained a bit about this to me from what Emma told you could happen, but it's really powerful Ginny. I mean, sometimes it has more power than we do and we lose control, especially when we're making love. Our power consumes us, both of us. Maybe if we understood why we have such a strong magical connection and how we use that power when we connect, we'll learn more about our destinies and where it's going to take us with these titles of Flame and Conqueror."

Ginny nodded. "That makes sense. Maybe there was another couple somewhere down the line who had a similar connection. If we research that we might find out more and get a better understanding. In the mean time, I'll write to Emma and get her to help me out a bit."

Harry grinned. "Sounds good."

He watched Ginny scribble on the parchment for a few moments and when she smiled up at him and handed him the letter he began to read:

Dear Emma and Charlie,