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Ginny Potter was now thirty-five years old. Her life was all-in-all good. She had three beautiful children, two of which were boys, seventeen years old, and ten, and one little girl, just born. She was now a healer, abandoning her post at the Harpies when she had James. She liked her job, but not as much as her flying. Seeker had always been her passion, but when she thought of why she'd given up her post, she always smiled. She'd do anything for her children. She smiled as she walked up the long corridor to the filing room. She picked up the new files that needed to be put away and side. Placing them alphabetical order, she couldn't help but glance at the names. Townstoone, Vesimick, Volurrd, Weasley. She removed the file quickly opening it and furrowing her eyebrows at her father's name. He was never sick, she didn't understand. In fact, the only time he'd been in a hospital for health purposes was for his snake bite over twenty years ago. She glanced the file realizing his appointment had been today. Why hadn't they told her. She glanced over at the other side and flipped through the EKG's and X-rays. Obviousley this healer had no idea about what she was doing. Ginny realized right away he had internal bleeding and another spot on the head exam they'd done. She couldn't help but let out a long breath and stuffing the file in her cloak. She remembered it all now and wondered how she could have been so stupid. The blood in the bathroom in her immaculate home. James walking past her with certain side-glances, a healer in training himself and learning maybe heads-up from his mum. Lilt being so drawn to Arthur when she was but eight months old. She recognized now, and it made her sick. Why hadn't her mum told her when she had to know there wasn't much time left?