A/N: So this chapter is going to jump around in the timeline, but we will finish that kitchen scene- DO NOT WORRY. Also beta's?! Magical creatures that I'd sell my soul for! Find me and let's make deal?

April 11th, 1998 – Northampton, England, UK - Elingston Estate

Abbie stared at the girl on the swing. The deal was riddled with a bad stink and regret. But she knew she'd regret not taking it later on tonight. So she nodded, hypnotized by the plain brown eyes, searching for the red.

When the girl disappeared, Abbie stayed on the swing. She stayed all night and in the morning she was found by the staff who delivered the news. She had nodded and cried tears of relief.

She had been questioned and taken home and finally when it was done, she called a private investigator. She would like to know what price she would pay in ten years.

August 28th, 1998 – London, England, UK – Ministry of Magic

Hermione had the inexplicable urge to smoke. It was irrational and disgusting. Nevertheless, she had the urge to find Mundungus Fletcher, slap him across the face and nab his ridiculous smelly pipe.

Her fingers twitched as she stared at the courtroom door. She was waiting for Harry to finish; she promised she would be waiting for him in this seat. This, very uncomfortable, ugly seat.

Hermione sighed as she felt the urge to run gain on her. She had been good on keeping her disappearing act in check for about two months now. Although, Hermione didn't really call them disappearing acts, as Harry dubbed them. She just liked getting away, every once in awhile.

Like now, apparently. She was halfway down the hallway before she realized she was moving. Part of her was screaming to go back and keep her promise. The trial was going to be draining on him and she would be there, an understanding shoulder. The best friend that had spoken before him, in front of the Wizengamot but even as she thought these things, she picked up the pace. The Malfoy case. They'd get off, Hermione was sure of it, with two war heroes speaking in their behalf. She didn't want to be there for the end, she had planned on getting out with Harry before the verdict was delivered to the public. She was on the lifts, and she realized she might have planned ditching Harry because she was moving faster than usual.

Twisting around the Ministry easily until she was in old familiar corridor, she smiled as she twirled once around the circular room with multiple doors. Picking the one to her left, she found herself in the Research Room of the Department of Mysteries. Plucking her discarded research from underneath her favorite table, she hummed to herself as the tension of the trial and week faded away.

International Security and Secrecy: The Muggle Alliance was a book that was currently being written by Blaise Zabini and Terry Boot, much to Harry's chagrin. Because it meant that Hermione was spending an inordinate amount of time with a pompous uppity researcher and poser snooty Slytherin. As if called, the chair across Hermione was suddenly occupied, "Hello Blaise," Hermione hadn't looked up from her journal, jotting down notes in the limited margin space.

"How would you like take a trip to France?" Hermione closed her journal and pushed across the table, smiling.

"A trip?"

Blaise flashed teeth, "To Lyon." Hermione grinned.

Interpol. They were going to see CeCe.

"Let me leave a note."

July 2nd, 2000 – Singer Auto Self Service Salvage, Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Sam was watching his father stare at his uncle Bobby who was in turn staring back at his dad. He cocked his head to the side to look at his brother who was unabashedly staring at Genie, who was watching him and smiling. Genie looked over to Bobby and shook her head and quirked her lips before turning her eyes to John. With a careless shrug she challenged him and Sam almost didn't want to look.

There was a loud CLICK. Empty. Which was impossible- dad's Beretta was always loaded. Genie was smiling, gloating really, when John stood, Chair scraping the cheap linoleum and he positioned himself in a tackle stance. And Sam started counting.

ONE.

John reached for Genie. She bends and-

TWO.

flips John over her shoulder. He lands, feet first. Arms circle her torso,

THREE.

she smiling as she slams her foot down on his. There's a grunt of pain.

FOUR.

Her bony elbow is digging itself into his solar plexus. And she's tucking in her chin.

FIVE.

He is letting go. But it's too late. Her head slams back into his face-

SIX.

there's a crunch. An almighty curse. Blood gushes out of his nose.

SEVEN.

A reverse flip. His dad is on his back. She's in him-

EIGHT.

she's twisting his arm around. Flipping him onto his stomach, pulling-

NINE.

a zip tie from her apron pocket.

TEN.

And tying his hands together. Stepping back. Smiling.

Sam turns to look at Dean, who is staring down at dad in shock. Because honestly, she has him bound and bleeding, in ten seconds. Sam finds her at the counter with the kid, Teddy, washing away the strawberry stains from his face. She turns to him,

"Can you get Teddy's booster chair, Sam?" Her hands waving carelessly towards the child's seat under the table. His hands move automatically and he secures it to one of Bobby's old kitchen chair and dusts it uselessly. She was there, again, impossibly fast and placing Teddy in his chair and pushing him in.

"Well, sit down, boys, and dig in." She motions to the food on the table; Dean sits next to Bobby, but looks confused as he's uncertain how he got into his chair. Sam follows, because really, what are his options?

She's moving over to his father, who by now has managed to sit up and is attempting to escape the zip tie that binds his hands. Sam watches as she crouches and hands come up to cradle his face, the next second there a crunch and his father swearing. She's pulling out tissues, from that god forsaken apron pocket, and starts dabbing away the blood.

"Gotten out of the ties, yet?" His dad is nodding, and she's standing, offering her hand, which Sam is surprised to see, his dad is taking.

He watches as his dad's blood streaked face twisted in a grimace as he takes a chicken thigh onto the plate in front of him and begins digging in. Like a spell being broken Bobby and Dean follow suit and Sam sees no point in arguing, for the first time, and gets a drumstick as Genie sits down, next to John and Teddy. He watches as she cuts up chicken before placing it front of Teddy and then eating herself.

"So-" Genie held up her hand, forestalling Dean's question, "Dean, I said no research at the table." Sam watched his father smirk, as Dean faltered.

"What are we supposed to talk about?" He heard himself ask as he nodded acknowledging Dean's grateful look.

She was smiling again; the sweet one and John knew that he was not going to like anything about this girl. In fact, John Winchester was convinced that this girl was put on this green earth to mess with family.

And it was working miracles.