A/N: Next generation, so Ron and Harry are already working in the Ministry. However, I picture I being rather early, so Lily and Hugo aren't born yet, but Rose, James and Albus are. Some Catching Fire spoilers in the following chapters, but not this one.

"Harry! Harry!"

Ron ran into the Auror office, looking thoroughly flushed. He pulled his scarf up around his ears, panting. "Harry, they've just gotten back!"

"Who?" Harry was in the middle of some trial reports, the strain of which had caused him to forget the previous month's mission.

"Down in the Department of Mysterious! From the Time Turners, remember?"

Harry's eyes bugged right out of his skull as he remembered the remarkable reinvention. Of course, their mission! "They're back?" he whispered, staring past Ron and out the grand window. It seemed awfully soon. He wasn't sure he was ready to hear the predicament of their future.

"You ready?" Ron asked, echoing his thoughts. "C'mon mate, let's go hear from them. Stanley was nice enough to go, after all."

It was true. Their good friend and coworker, Stanley Jensen, had accompanied the two Unspeakables in the hopes that the Auror department might actually get some information from this mission. You see, when reinventing the wall of Time Turners (which Ron and Harry had abashedly confessed to smashing, in their fifth year), the Department of Mysteries had managed to craft them so that they could travel forward, as well as back. It was a remarkable feat, and one that the ministry had been instructed to keep secret for the time being.

"What do you think they'll say?" Ron asked. The friends stood side by side, both shaking with nerves as they rode the giant elevator.

"How far did they go, again?" Harry asked, grimacing at his own ignorance. He had all of the information upstairs, on his desk.

"About a hundred years I think. No wait, they started there, and then went another seventy five or so." Ron shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure."

"Right." Silence lapsed against their toes, wading up to their mouths as anticipation overcame them. This was a big step, even for the Ministry.

"Hello Stanley," Ron greeted warmly, thumping the man on the back. He took a step away, allowing Harry to shake his hand. Only then did they notice his – and the Unspeakable's – distressed frowns.

"What?" Ron asked, as calmly as he could. "What happened?"

Stanley cleared his throat. "Robert's been taken to St. Mungo's, to be treated for shock. It's – it's no good Ron." He shook his head, clenching his teeth and sucking back spit. "Harry. What we saw…"

Norman nodded, taking it from there. He was frowning as well, but looked considerably calmer. "A hundred years, and it's more or less the end of the world. For our kind. Most of the continents were destroyed. Europe, Asia, Africa…. All of them, except for North America."

Panic seemed to spool from Ron and Harry's skin, as the message sunk in. It was years in the future, so it was no immediate danger of course, but what about their families? Most of the continents destroyed?

" 'Mione and I went to America last summer," Ron said. "It's – it's alright there."

"Not in a hundred years it's not," Stanley interjected. He gave a sigh, sounding considerably troubled. "Our people did it, actually. We recognized some of the spells, and besides, there's no other way they could have managed it…" He trailed off, obviously picturing what they'd seen. "They took over the country. The world, since that was all that's left. They used their magic, and they started ruling it."

Harry sank against a stray box, trying to think of it as information rather than something to affective. Using magic to take over the world? Wasn't that what they'd tried to stop in Voldemort?

"But it gets worse," Norman said, glancing at Stanley. "They kept their magic a secret, pretended everything they did was with inventions. Named their bloody government the Capitol." He gave a sneer. "Then, in seventy-five years…" He shook his head. "There's this other bloke ruling, Snow. I swear to God he's a Gaunt, if there ever was one."

"Gaunt?" Harry whispered, breathless. "That was… that was Tom Riddle's family." He looked up sharply. "But that's impossible. That family line ended in Riddle."

"Well, I don't know," Norman continued. "We only got a glimpse of him, with a stunning spell, and I can only tell you this. He's smart. Quick. He's good at ruling, and at making people believe he's right. But he's a wizard, mark my words. No other way he could have gotten to the place he was."

"When you say… when you say using the magic as inventions," Ron began slowly, "Do you mean they're giving them to muggles?"

"Hard to say," Norman answered. Stanley had turned away from the group, too wrapped up to speak. "They've all mixed so much, that only a few are obvious."

"Any relatives of anyone good?" Ron asked. "Me or Harry maybe?"

"No," Norman answered. "Not that we saw." Noticing their anxious expressions, he continued. "We didn't see everyone, though. They could have been in other places. Districts, they call them. Or – or they could have died in the war." Everyone was silent for a moment, thinking this over.

"Hang on a minute," Harry said. "How'd you know where to go? If Europe was destroyed?"

Stanley turned back, smiling wryly. "We somewhat guessed, when we noticed the land was gone."

"The actual land was gone?" Ron said, aghast. "How'd they manage that?"

"Vanishing spell. A powerful one. I promise you, whoever did it was a descendent of a death eater. But fellows…"

"So we lock them up!" Ron interrupted angrily. "We get the old death eaters, and we stick 'em back in Azkaban. How 'bout it Harry?"

Harry shook his head, "No Ron, I don't think –"

"Please," Norman said, sticking up a hand. "We haven't told you the most important part."

"What's that?" Ron and Harry asked, in unison.

"The second trip – the one seventy five years after the first one – that one had a war."

"A war?" Harry asked, his glasses falling down his nose.

"A rebellion, they call it. They have these games, called the Hunger Games." Norman shook his head, speaking quietly as if they weren't eve there. "They send in these children to fight, sort of like the Triwizard Tournament, only they have to kill each other." His attention snapped back to the Aurors, but then he turned to Stanley. "Can you, er, get the boy from the other room? We're getting to that part."

"Yes," Stanley answered quietly. He hurried off.

Norman nodded, continuing. "Well, they're having a rebellion. They cut the games short, somehow, and this girl is standing up against the Snow." He smiled. "She's only seventeen Harry, like you were."

"You met her?" Harry asked. He didn't ask any questions, because to be honest, it all sounded to familiar. The fighting, children's lives in danger. That was a world he knew. Catching a glimpse of Ron's taught, angry face, he knew his friend felt the same way.

"No," Norman answered. "Only heard talk from her boyfriend."

"Her boyfriend?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Well, it's complicated." Norman hesitated. "I'll let him tell you himself, all about it, before we make plans to go back."

"Go back?" Ron exclaimed, bursting forth from his silent thoughts.

"What do you mean himself?" Harry asked, suspicious.

Norman ignored them both, watching as Stanley brought the person in question from the other room. "Ah, good. Peeta, would you mind telling these two about Katniss and the Hunger Games?"

A/N: That's it for now! I would really, really appreciate any reviews you can leave – whether praise, CC or flame. Thanks so much for reading!