A/N: So basically, this is a HP/TMI crossover, as you've probably already guessed since you clicked on it to read it. It takes place in the year 2022, when Jace and Clary are both 31. They've been relocated to the London Institute, which Alec has been appointed to run. To make the rest of the story easier to read:

Jace and Clary have one son, Stephen "Stevie" Michael Herondale and one daughter, Teresa Isabelle Herdonale.

Teddy and Victoire Lupin have one son, William "Will" Arthur Lupin (he did not inherit Teddy's metamorphagus traits)

Harry is still head of the Auror Department. Hermione works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcment but is still closely tied to the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, where she used to work.

Teddy is an Auror, and James is training under him. Victoire is a Healer. Rose, Albus, and Scorpius Malfoy are in their seventh year at Hogwarts.

I don't promise regular updates or anything, because I'm going away for a month sans internet/computer access ^.^

P.S. If you want mindless fluff, this is not the story for you. It has a very intense plot k thx.

-Spider (Chuck3397) and Caspian (me, duh) :D ((We're both girls tbh))

xxxxxxx

Prologue

The Seelie Queen strode quietly through the darkness of the Forbidden Forest, dressed in a simple robe. For any other task, she would have sent some lesser fey to gather what she needed, but not this one. This could be entrusted to no one else.

She drifted among the trees, ignoring the eerie whispers of the forest. They spoke of old battles and adventures, but she didn't need to listen to them; she didn't care about the wizarding world. It was a trifle – nay, a future trophy. But it was not concerning now.

There was one battle that she cared about. It was the same one that she still felt the sting of oppression from, even now. The Clave had proved true to their word, and had not eased a single constrained placed on the Fey Folk since the day they fought with Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. She had foolishly chosen the wrong side, so blinded by power she was. But she would not do so this time. No, this time, she had a goal, a tactic no one would see coming.

A glow in her peripheral vision caught her eye. A unicorn, of course. It had been a long time since she had tasted the succulent blood of a young unicorn. Fate seemed to be simling upon her, tonight.

The unicorn didn't shy away as she neared. She was a female, of course. The unicorn trusted her. Once near enough, she raised a dagger and threw it quickly and with precision. It embedded itself in the heart of the unicorn, which fell. Even in death, it was graceful.

They say that drinking unicorn blood extended the life of the drinker, but damned their souls. However, she was neither wizard nor human; she was immortal, and she was already damned. Knowing this, she lowered her head to drink the silver blood of the unicorn.

She licked her lips as she drained the unicorn dry of all its blood. Nothing tasted quite like unicorn blood, not even fey food. Perhaps it was the taste of innocence that it surely carried with it. She hadn't tasted the blood of a unicorn in eons; it was never wise to kill too many at once. It would arouse suspicions best left buried.

Sighing, she stood up and continued on. That was enjoyable, but not the purpose of the night. The night was much more important than that. This night would be one of the most important nights in history; human, Shadowhunter, wizard, or Downworlder.

She stopped, suddenly, sensing it beneath her. Her plotting and tracking had not failed her. It was here, beneath her very feet. She bent down, and delicately dug through many years worth of dead leaves, lichen, and humus, into old layers of the forest floor.

And there she found it. A simple stone, overgrown with moss, its strange inscription barely visible under layers of grime. She delicately, almost reverently picked it up. Ever so gently, she turned it thrice in her hand.

To her left, she heard a strange movment. It would not be detectable to human ears, but of course, she wasn't human.

"Jonathan, my love," she breathed without turning.

"It is I," he said in return. That was when she knew that it truly had worked. She turned to see the ethereal form of Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, standing in the night. She took him in, from his white hair to his black eyes, and sighed contentedly.

"We have a war to fight, and a war to win," she said softly to him. She came as close as she dared, but not touching him; never touching. He looked real and spoke as if he were real, but he was simply a shadow of the true Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern.

Of course, she had feared it wouldn't work. She knew, they all knew, that the heavenly fire had burned out the demon in him, and he had become a regular human before dying. But this Jonathan, this was the one she knew. This was the demon. This was exactly who she needed.

"This time, it is ours," he said to her. "The world is ours, and it will burn."