"That's it, isn't it?" Draco asked. They stood across the street from the neat cottage at 152 Rue St. Ann.
"I know this house in my sleep. The only thing different about the Vieux Carré of our time is its appearance. That's the house." Épiphanie let out a long sigh.
"What is it, my love?" Draco gave her a look of concern.
"Isaiah said I look just like her. People have mistaken me for her already. I didn't even think of that. Draco, bad things happen to people who meddle with time don't they?"
"Well, you could go in under a glamour," he suggested.
"Ma Mère is a very powerful witch. Even with a glamour, she might suspect that I am an imposter. And I have the wand." Épiphanie worried her lip.
"Okay, well. We have to do something. The longer we stay, the more likely we are to disrupt history. I say just go in as you are. If she can help us, she'll figure it out anyway as soon as we show her the time turner. Just don't show her the wand."
"I guess you have a point."
The door of the house opened. A statuesque young woman about their age stood surveying the street as she puffed a cigar. Her hair was covered with a brightly colored cloth that was elaborately tied atop her head. Her dark-colored dress was simple, and she wore a shawl draped over her shoulders. Her eyes landed on the couple standing across the street and held the gaze of the elegantly dressed woman. She nodded slightly and withdrew into the house, leaving the door ajar.
Épiphanie found herself caught in the woman's gaze as if looking at her own reflection in the mirror. This was the same woman who'd taught her nearly everything she knew about magic—her ancestor—youthful and in the flesh. When the woman nodded her acknowledgement and went back into the house, suddenly, she felt rooted to the spot as if under a Stickfast hex. Draco took her elbow, and she was finally able to will her feet to move, stepping nervously into the street.
The house was darker than Épiphanie was accustomed to it being—given that it was being actively lived in. The air was thick with the pungent aromas of spices and perfumed oils. They moved to the sitting room where the woman sat in the side chair Épiphanie knew her to favor.
"I wondered how long it would take for you to come around. You surely caused a stir 'round here."
"Madame Paris, it is an honor." Épiphanie nodded respectfully and offered her a bouquet of witch hazel, agrimony, and white lilacs.
"Je vous connais." The woman gave Épiphanie a pointed look.
"I—well, um…"
"I received divine insight of a girl, far in the future. She stood there on the other side of the street, just like you."
Épiphanie exchanged looks with Draco.
"Do you know the girl, Madame?"
"Intelligent, n'est-ce pas, ma chère? (Clever, aren't you, my dear?)" She carefully stubbed out her cigar.
"Well, I had a rather unconventional education, to say the least."
You know who I am then?
"I know you, yes." Marie smiled. "Come," she beckoned them to follow her to the back of the house and offered them both a meal of curried meat and vegetables.
"Eat," she commanded and took a seat at the table, fanning herself with her hand. "How did you do it?" she asked.
"My gods, this is delicious!" Draco exclaimed. "I don't think I've had this meat before. What is it?"
"I'm glad you like it. It's curried goat." She smiled.
"Goat?" Draco paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, and looked up at her.
"Goat." A mirthful expression flitted across her face. "Eat, sha."
After a moment, Draco shrugged and resumed eating, heartily cleaning his dish. Épiphanie shook her head.
"He's an aristocrat," Épiphanie explained.
"Of course." Marie waved her hand and the shutters at the windows closed. "How did you manage it? No one has been able to leap through time like that before. Not in their own bodies."
Draco retrieved the time turners and placed them on the table.
"Are you familiar with these?" he asked. Marie picked up one of the artefacts and examined it carefully. She shook her head.
"I've never seen anything like this before. How does it work?"
"They're time-turners. These two are the only ones of their kind which let you travel anywhere in time." He pointed to Nott's time-turner. "We think this one is the original prototype. See how the metal is inferior? We came into possession of it by accident. This one," He pointed to his own time-turner. "…was given to me by my father. As you can see, it's slightly different, and the metal is much higher quality. With traditional time-turners, which have a limit of about five hours, one simply has to turn it the number of hours one wishes to travel. These are true time-turners; one certainly doesn't turn it hundreds of times. It would take forever to get anywhere."
"What he's leaving out, is that we hadn't intended to travel in time. We had no idea that they were in our possession until we wound up here. Apparently, they had been placed inside our portkey."
"I see." Marie lightly fingered each item and drew her hand back. "I can feel the magic in this one." She pointed to Draco's time-turner.
"Then it's not broken?" asked Draco. "I wonder why it wouldn't work when we attempted to go back."
"It isn't broken, no. Turning it is not the key, I don't believe. You said that it was inside your portkey?"
"Yes. Both of them were," replied Épiphanie.
The priestess tapped her lips thoughtfully. "Magical objects should never be paired unless they are designed to be so. It is possible that the travel charm disrupted the time charm. You had three of them together—one of which was broken."
"Do you think that if we placed the time-turner inside another portkey, it will take us home?"
"It is possible. This is very distinct magic, and very unstable. You could create an alternate time line and even change the course of one's life path."
"Such as…meeting you," Épiphanie murmured.
"Perhaps, ma chere. Mais, je vous connaissais avant que vous vous connaissiez (But I knew you before you knew yourself)."
"So, wait—you knew that we would meet—you had already met me when I saw you—well your—for the first time?" The young witch stared at her ancestor in astonishment.
"I suppose I did. I'm not dead yet, but the vision cannot be denied." She smiled. There was a knock at the door. They quickly put away the time-turners. "Stay here."
Épiphanie groaned in frustration. "This is crazy!" She rested her hand on her chin and watched her husband help himself to another dish of curry. "Wow. You're really going in over there. Seriously?"
"'Sgood!" Draco mumbled, mouth full.
"My God! Draco Malfoy! Did I really just witness you talking with a mouth full of food?"
"Shu-up!" he replied. She snickered. He swallowed and neatly wiped his mouth before he spoke again. "We helped that group get away, and we bought Isaiah's freedom. Do you think that we altered their life paths?"
"I don't know. We—" Marie entered the kitchen again.
"Ma Cher, I need your help." She didn't stop, but kept walking out of the door and into the yard.
"I'm sorry?"
"You need her help? Why?" Draco asked when the woman returned, holding an egg. She went to the pie safe and took a jar of honey and a sack of flour. Épiphanie's eyes widened and she stood immediately.
"I'll have to tell you later," Épiphanie replied. "Madame, I'm not properly dressed."
"I assume you know your way around this house. Go find something." Épiphanie went in search of a change of clothes and the other woman took the items she had fetched and left the room. Draco followed, and watched as Marie crossed into the small room where he recalled Épiphanie and the woman's ghost convening with anxious spirits when The Servants had attempted to take over the city, a few years ago in their future past. He saw an anxious black woman kneeling next to a man who appeared to be writhing on the floor.
"Draco. You can't stay here. This is not for you." He turned to see Épiphanie dressed from head to toe in white, her hair covered in an elaborately tied swath of white silk. I will meet you in our room when I can."
"I can't just leave you, beloved."
"I'm safe, my love. If I can't trust Ma Mère—even in the past, I can't trust anyone. I will send my patronus if I need you. Promise." She gave him a kiss. "Why don't you look through those papers and research to see if there's anything that we might have missed. See if anything has changed since we read it last. That might indicate whether we have altered any life paths."
Draco sighed reluctantly, and acquiesced. "Promise you'll send me a patronus immediately if anything goes wrong."
"I promise."
Draco gave her one last apprehensive look before he stepped out into the early evening. He made his way back to the guest house and began to go back over the family trees first, but found little of interest. The dates of death for all those involved did not appear to have changed. He began to read the articles concerning the lawsuit again, and discovered that the plaintiffs bringing the suit were in fact descendants of Isaiah—one of the names of the plaintiffs being Isaiah Delhomme IV. He breathed a sigh of relief that their actions seemed in keeping with the history which they already knew.
The room had grown dark while he read, the sun having gone down shortly after he entered the room they had rented in the neat Faubourg Marigny guest house. Draco looked at his watch and wondered what could be keeping Épiphanie. He stepped out onto the balcony to watch the goings on in the street below. Music floated up from a tavern down the block, and here and there people strolled along alone or in couples. He noted that many of the couples were mixed race—white men in the company of black women of generally fair complexion. All of the women were finely dressed. He assumed that these were the octoroon and quadroon women who were fancied for plaçage relationships. Draco realized that is why the landlord barely batted an eye when he entered the establishment with Épiphanie. He hadn't originally given it much thought, since race was barely a factor in the wizarding world—he had been taught much more about the importance of blood status during his upbringing. The room filled with bright white light, and he noticed a few people on the street looking up to the windows. He quickly entered the room and waved his wand to close the shutters. The large dragon patronus filled the room, folding in its wings.
"All is well, love. See you soon." Épiphanie's voice appeared as gentle and melodious as always as the patronus dissolved. He breathed another sigh of relief and returned to the desk to continue reading.
Épiphanie waved her wand to lace up the corset and pulled on her dress, flicking the wand once more to fasten the row of buttons up the back and slipped her wand into the small handbag that she had transfigured from a scrap of fabric when they first arrived.
"So, you wear my vévé."
The young witch turned around to face her ancestor, still slightly unnerved to be looking into a near mirror image.
"I—I don't know how I came by it," she replied. The other woman smiled and advanced into the room. She brushed Épiphanie's hair from her face and bade her turn, whereupon she began to plait the long curls.
"Ma chere. It is clear that fate has brought you here. There must be a reason for it. It has not escaped my notice that you chose not to share any information concerning my future or demise. I don't know whether that is by chance or design. As I said, I had already received a divine insight regarding you. It is gratifiant de savoir that I will have children at some point in the future, and that my magic will continue and even be a source of protection for you."
"Did you know that I would be able to communicate with Pyé?" Épiphanie asked.
"He requested you specifically."
"How would he even know to find me here—in this time?"
"Papa Damballah is the highest of all the Lwa. Why wouldn't he be able to find his children?"
"So we really can't leave this era because we do have tasks that will alter the life paths of others if we don't complete them?" Épiphanie shook her head. "Wow. Draco is going to have a coronary." She sighed.
"Perhaps a prayer to St. Christopher is in order?" the woman suggested. Épiphanie nodded and they knelt on the floor, crossing themselves and joining hands.
"In the name of the Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit. Amen. Dear Saint Christopher, protect me today in all my travels along the road's way. Give your warning sign if danger is near so that I may stop while the path is clear. Be at my window and direct me through when the vision blurs from out of the blue. Carry me safely to my destined place, like you carried Christ in your close embrace. In the name of the Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit. Amen." They crossed themselves again.
There was a knock at the door.
"Ah, that will be my Englishman." Marie smiled.
"Your Englishman?"
"Mais oui, ma chère. Monsieur Ollivander. I do believe he is a wandmaker."
Épiphanie furiously attempted to school her features before the woman faced her again.
"I should go." Épiphanie drew on her gloves, thinking to herself that the clothes of the past were nearly as superfluous as the wizarding robes her pureblood friends were so reticent to give up. "I'll take the rear, so your guest won't be startled by your doppelganger."
"My what?"
"Your ka—spirit double."
"Oh, yes. Au revoir, ma petite reflet de mon destin (reflection of my future). I await our reunion in tomorrows." The ancestor embraced the descendant.
"Au revoir…ma mère."
Épiphanie stepped out into the evening and strolled up Rue St. Ann towards the Burgundy Street apartment that Draco had rented. She fanned herself lightly and cast her eyes down whenever she approached an unaccompanied male. This gesture was successful in fending off any who might have accosted her until she was about halfway between St. Philip and Ursuline.
"And just where do you think you're going, gal?" The tall, red-faced man blocked her path.
"Je vous demande pardon, monsieur. Je reviens là où j'appartiens (I beg your pardon, sir. I am returning to where I belong)."
"You have papers?"
"Monsieur, I am expected. Please allow me to pass." Épiphanie silently began to count as she opened her purse. It would not do well to lose control of her magic. One…two…three…four…
She was struck hard on the back of her head and the man in front of her became a fuzzy blur before everything went black.
