Hi sorry about how short the prologue was! This next length should be better. Oh and also I sometimes have trouble with past and present tenses so if anybody has a suggestion in what I should do totally tell me please!

So with the disclaimer...I don't own Harry Potter and the Magical world of Wizardy...they belong to J.K. Rowling...but Eden/Moira belongs to me! :) She's kind of a dumb character but I mean...I can only do so much. A

nd if anyone is confused from my cryptic summary let me just say that this is a twin story so not your usual time fic...?

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts."
― Winston Churchill

Chapter 1

Moira believed that she was dead. At first it was because there was nothing. She was nothing and her thoughts were empty. But then her mind began to wander, floating through all of her memories of her parents, brothers, her sister, and the Weasley's, and the endless running they and the rest of the rebels did together. They never had one solid bed, kitchen, house, pet or property; it was taken away from them long before she could truly appreciate them. She pondered on the dreadful life that they all had to live, it was normal of course; staying in one place would be foreign to any rebel family. It was a life they had chosen. They could have had all those things, but refused because it was not right. Their families would never just stand aside and summit themselves to being ruled over.

The watch had been their only hope and she had failed because she had gotten herself killed. It was unfair.

HORRIBLE EXCUSE OF A DAUGHTER

She had been right there! Why couldn't her body have held on for just a few more minutes so that she could tell them, at least warn them?

Soft whispers travel inside of her and breathe one word

Failure

And it's enough to crush her. Her body cried out in pain as visions of her world assaulted her. And now they would all die and perish like she is now. Their corpses would litter the street with no one to claim them, leaving their loved ones to search night after night. She could see them all glaring at her through empty sockets, blaming her for their children's deaths and for their own deaths and for having to live a life not worth living. They all gathered around her, holding her down with them, making sure she lives through their hell. They bound her to an existence in the dark and she begged to move on to something different, begged for the memories to stop, and begged to be forgiven.

Pain, she felt pain shoot through her arm. She looked at it for a long moment and realized that her body had become visceral. And she wasn't sure, but she felt as if she was screaming. Everything hurt and everything was real again and this had to stop; the dead couldn't feel.

Eyes, she was moving her eyes, and in this revelation she felt her finger move as well.

Alive

She would have smiled if her jaw wasn't so clenched and tired. She continued tapping her bed sheets tap tap tap. She tried lifting her left shoulder, but found that it stretched a sluggish muscle in her back. But she was so happy. She had made it. She just needed her eyes to open. She twitched her eyelids repeatedly, her eyes moving back and forth.

She could hear sounds; a humming, and a woman's voice speaking. But the humming was not the woman's doing, rustling of objects could be heard from where her voice was talking, farther away from Moira. The humming, Moira suspected, came from right beside her. This was it. A new determination took hold of her, willing for all her senses to come back. A bad grimy moth ball taste came from her mouth, a sense she really wished didn't have to come until later when she ate something a bit more appealing. Her nose crinkled and she could smell plastic, a clean sort of smell that she hadn't come across before. Sort of like the honey of a pine tree. Her weak, heavy ridden hand gently came up and grasped the watch that hung from her neck. Satisfied that it was still there, she found the strength to open her eyes.

"Hello." Her voice was coarse as she barely whispered the greeting. She's not even sure who will answer.

"Hello my dear," Someone she suspected to be Albus Dumbledore looked at her from underneath half moon spectacles. "Fancy a lemon drop?"

She shook her head, "Water," She croaked, licking her cracked lips.

"Yes of course, here you go." On top of his table, that held the book he was reading, there stood a pitcher and a few glasses. She was thankful that it was a tall glass that he handed her. He waited and watched her as she drank the whole thing.

"How long?" It seemed as if she could only get a few words out at a time.

"Five days, you came in a rather frightening form, but I do say it sure made the feast rather interesting. There are a few times myself when I like to make rather dramatic entrances and exits. Why one time I went to go visit my friend Bathilda and I came straight through one of her mouse holes dancing with a very frightened rodent.," he chuckled at the very old memory, "Of course that was when I was your age."

"Y-y-You are rather funny…th - They didn't say you'd be funny," she smiled up at him and shyly looked away and resided to looking at a loose string on her bandaged arm. "I don't know what to say and I know you must want to ask. It's one thing for me to ask for your trust, but for me to give you answers… I just don't know if I can."

He looked very serious for a moment, deep into her sorrow flodded eyes that held no lie, but he could not be sure under these times and these circumstances, "Where are you from?"

"The future."

"What year?"

"2127"

His eyes were kind, yet at the same time his lips were curved into a grim line, mulling over her words, undecided on whether or not they were true, "Over a hundred years. That is a very long time. I don't proclaim to know all about time travel, so I'm rather interested on how your very distant arrival, thought impossible by many Great Wizards and Witches, came to pass."

She sighed and fingered the old pocket watch that hung around her neck, it was silver with engraved symbols and flowers interweaved on the surface, "An invention that my family has worked on for fifty two years. I don't know how my mum and dad finished it or what kind of magic they used. All I know is that it involved a long study of hour glasses, time turners and how they work. This watch has been passed down from generation to generation for more than a hundred years. It still works see," She opened it to reveal that the short hand was on the 1 and the long hand on the 7. "A few years ago we went on a search to find a time turner and we did. It was all my parents needed to finish it." Pride seeped through here every word, and her face lifted. "They were mad brilliant. But then…well, I can't say how or why, but they died along with my whole family and I think the Weasley's as well." She choked on the words and she reached for her glass of water to calm down her beating heart.

"You were being hunted. And you came here in the hopes that you would stop all of it from happening."

"Yes Professor. I wish I could get you to trust what I say is true and I wish I could tell you the fate of the upcoming battle, but I don't want to change any of your decisions that will have a great effect on the timeline. I only desire to change mine." Tears threatened to spill, but clung to her lashes.

He smiled thinly, the look in her eyes told him she knew that his death would be coming in a few weeks, "You know I plan on dying."

"Yes I do. By Severus Snape's hand…err wand." She tried to sit up, the more she talked the more fidgeting and restless she became. She was desperate for him to believe her and not think she was some horrible death eater spy that had come to go rogue and run rapid through the school and ruin all of his secret plans. Through the buzz of her overactive consciousness she thought herself a master of alliteration and couldn't keep the "R" words from rolling in her mind. She shook her head to rid herself of her childish thoughts, "I would wish for you to use legilmecy, but I'm afraid that you might see things that could ruin everything and the victory of…well I can't say. I jus-I can't," she gasped, flustered "I wish my parents were here. They would explain things better; they would know what to say…and they would…"

"That is all I need to know, don't get so worked up. You have a series of injuries already, no need to exhaust yourself and give yourself a brain fart." He chuckled. "I am very sorry about your parents and you family."

"It's alright," she said quickly, "they haven't died yet." The hope that shone through her eyes flashed fiercely, and then quickly died away as insecurities bubbled through her abdominal. She looked away from the headmaster's clear blue eyes.

Dumbledore, remembering that he had no knowledge of her identity exclaimed, "Excuse me! Where are my manners? You know my name, but I have yet to ask yours."

"My name is Eden Moira Longbottom. Call me Moira though."

"Ah, that explains it."

"What?" she asked, her dark brow rose innocently.

"Well when you arrived a student was overcome with the need to help you, He would be I guess your great-great-great grandfather."

"Neville?" excitement boiled through her veins. She had nearly forgotten that he was attending school at this time. "He's here? Oh I almost forgot! It would be great to talk to him. He will become a very great wizard you know! I am so beside myself right now Professor." She gave him a bright smile.

"He is in fact due to be here any minute now. He comes to visit you every day, you know. My guess is that bonds, through your family line, run strong."

"Family is the most important thing. Love really…" A certain knowing seeped through her eyes, her chin cocked to the side, her smile, reserved and cryptic. It was in that moment, that any doubt that Dumbledore had about the girl before had utterly vanquished itself immediately, leaving only a delighted Albus to allow himself a warm laughter to rumble from his chest.

"I should be going, Madam Pomfrey shall be back any minute now and she'd scarcely allow me to bug her patient any longer."

"Goodbye Professor Dumbledore. Oh wait!" frenzied, she arched her back slightly as she leaned forward. He turned back to face her, a questioning shadowed his lips. "It is important that I live with the Weasleys, not the Longbottoms. They um…they play an important part in this war and if anything is to go wrong with my plan I would be able to tell someone close to me about it, but that would mean I would have to become close to someone first ha."

"It'll all be taken care of. Don't worry, Longbottom." He winked swiftly.