You can meet thousands of people and none of them will touch you.

And then one day, someone can come in and touch your soul and before you know it, your life has been changed forever.

Unknown

Prince Manor, Scotland: March 7th, 2006

"Shall I inform Lucius of his wayward son's whereabouts this time?" a baritone voice drawled as a blackette stumbled into the small kitchen of Prince Manor; heading straight for the smoking cup the owner of the voice was holding out to her.

"If I'm not included as the topic of interest," the young woman muttered as she virtually inhaled her potion-laced coffee, her eyes closed in bliss as she did so, "You can tell that bloody peacock whatever you like," she sniped as what colour her complexion held slowly started to return.

"Language," Severus Snape admonished, although the slight, upwards quirk of his lip gave away his amusement of what she had – quite accurately in his opinion – described Lucius Malfoy as.

The young woman winced, realizing what she had said and was quick to mutter an apology. "Sorry. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

The amusement that had been in Severus' eyes was gone with a blink at his niece's words, and as he decided in an attempt to keep his sanity to ignore her comment about lack of sleep, the look in his dark eyes turned immediately to critical study. "The potions don't seem to be working as effectively as they should be," he remarked, pursing his lips as he eyed the way the blackette still looked rather run-down and far too pale than normal after her morning potion.

"Yes, well we can all thank Bellatrix for that," the young woman muttered bitterly with an eye-roll as she turned to the sink to rinse out her cup.

Severus' expression didn't change, coming to the decision that he was going to be ignoring quite a bit of his niece that morning as instead of replying to her comment, he stated, "I need to have another conversation with Healer Gaskell about altering the potion once more. It seems that the curse has mutated again and we need to get on top of it before it can do anymore damage." His raven eyebrows knitted together ever so slightly as he added, "You should send a Patronus to Jack and let him know you can't make it in today."

"You know I can't," the blackette sighed as she turned back to her uncle, leaning against the benchtop as she cradled her cup against her chest, "I promised Master Dion that I would try and finish that report on the Weevil population in and around the rift. We're so close to working out where they're originating from, and I think it helps that they're much like vampires," her nose wrinkled slightly, "But without the entire 'walking undead' factor."

A raven eyebrow raised as Severus stared at his niece for a moment before he nodded and moved towards the fridge. "Breakfast, then?" he enquired, knowing that it was futile to argue. The wizard couldn't also deny that he had had noticed that the more Rylli worked with Jack at Torchwood, the more she was slowly starting to come out of her shell.

"You're cooking?" the young woman asked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow of her own.

The wizard huffed as he pulled out enough eggs and sausages for three, rolling his eyes when he saw an awfully familiar expression across his niece's face that had his heart missing a beat before resuming its normal rhythm. "I can cook, you know," he told her, ignoring the pang of loss that came with every familiar expression he could see appear on Rylli's face, "And besides," he continued before the blackette could say anything, "I have a rather free morning after some dunderhead decided that it would be a marvelous idea to bring his mother's wand into the psych ward she was staying in. The senile, old woman placed half the hospital under a sleeping spell before anyone could disarm her. Bloody idiots…"

Rylli blinked.

"Don't ask," her uncle grumbled as he summoned a frypan from the cupboard.

"I… I wasn't going to," the blackette replied with a slight frown, still trying to wrap her head around what she had just been told. Upon deciding that it was far too early for such thinking, Rylli moved over to the kettle and started to make herself another coffee – this time potion free. "I guess that means that those orders for the apothecary can be done before tomorrow night, then," she stated, turning to her uncle with a rinsed cup in her hand. There was a very detailed, green Slytherin crest printed on the obsidian looking cup that seemed to fade in and out in the light as the snake hissed. "Another?" she enquired.

"No, thank you," Severus shook his head as he turned the sausages, "And I ended up finishing those orders last night after Lucius fire-called me, spewing some rubbish about paying me double to get it done before his meeting with the Prime Minister this morning."

"You already had them finished," amber eyes slid to the wizard, "Didn't you?"

"I make it in bulk," Severus shrugged, unabashed.

The young woman idly stirred her coffee, a thoughtful expression appearing on her face as her eyes watched the creamy liquid swirl. "How much do you think Skeeter would have paid to know that Lucius uses a tonic to keep his hair that white these days?" she enquired offhandedly.

"About as much as it would cost her to pay her way out of Azkaban and back to the Prophet to write it." It was obsidian eyes that narrowed slightly this time before sliding to the blackette, "Why?"

"No reason," she replied 'innocently' as she moved towards the table and placed two cups of coffee down.

"And now why don't I believe that," Severus drawled, though his words only had the blackette smirking.

"Because I'm your niece," she quipped as she passed him, giving the wizard a quick hug from behind before moving to grabs some plates.

Severus stiffened at her action, still unaccustomed to such affections before his eyebrow twitched. "And that is precisely why I want to know your sudden interest in that particular insect," he finally said.

"Why does everybody think that I have something against Skeeter? It's not my fault that she decided to try and worm her way into my master's quarters at the DoM," the blackette complained as she started plating up the cooked sausages, "Everyone knows that when I'm studying, the place is fully warded to keep people out."

There was a snort from the wizard beside her, and the blackette frowned.

"What?"

"And the wards that you placed specifically for animagi of the insect variety?" a raven eyebrow raised as Severus looked to his niece.

"What's specifically for animagi of the insect variety?" a platinum blond asked as he stumbled into the room, heading straight for the blackette and wrapped an arm around her waist before kissing her temple. "How are you feeling this morning, Rylli?" he asked as he – much like the raven-haired wizard – had noticed her rather rundown appearance.

"Fine," Rylli waved the blond off, "And we were talking about how Skeeter got herself a one-way ticket to Azkaban after she tried to spy on me while I was studying with Master Dion. Your coffee's on the table, by the way," she added with a nod in the cups direction.

"Skeeter?" Draco placed another kiss upon Rylli's temple before he unwrapped his arm and headed for his coffee. "She was just asking for it if you want my opinion."

"Good thing I don't," Severus rejoined the conversation as he plonked a plate of food in front of the younger wizard. "Now eat. Otherwise I will be telling your father that you're once again stumbling out of my niece's room the morning after what looked to have been a rather…." he gave the hastily-dressed wizard the once over and his lip curled, "Very long night."

Draco just rolled his eyes, not at all affected by his godfather's threat. All the while Rylli nudged Severus' side as she passed, her own plate of food in her hands.

"We all know that until that contract is signed, Draco can do whatever he wants, Uncle," the blackette reminded the older wizard, "And besides, nothing happened last night. I couldn't sleep and he was keeping me company. We're twenty-five, not fifteen. Not everything is about sex."

Severus' expression was a mix of utter horror and distaste at his niece's blatant openness about her and Draco's relationship, though the wizard wisely kept his comments to himself. What his niece got up to with the platinum blond – as long as it didn't include dark magic, blood magic, or some form in between that would have the very Hounds of Hades on their doorstep… again – the former Death Eater was quite happy for Rylli to take those secrets to her grave.

He did not need to know the details of what they got up.

He was old… not stupid.

"Astoria and I were going to be looking at robes later," Draco spoke up after everyone had settled at the table, "Did you want to come with us?" he enquired, looking at Rylli.

"I've got that weevil report for Master Dion," the blackette shrugged, "But I think I could maybe meet you both at the Leaky for lunch. I can floo directly from the Hub."

"Do you think you could ask Jack if he could get me another sample of some Weevil saliva?" Severus enquired as he passed Draco the salt, "I don't think the direction we were heading is going to work. I wanted to try the porcupine quills with fire-salamander eyes."

Rylli frowned, her fork pausing before her lips. "The toad skin and quills didn't work?" she asked; surprised.

"No," the wizard scowled darkly at his food, "And I wasted thirty galleons to figure that out."

Neither noticed Draco pause in his eating; his normally pale complexion growing even paler at their topic of choice.

"I'll stop in at Gringotts on the way to the apothecary to replace what was lost," the blackette offered as she finished a forkful of eggs. "I need to stop by to top up Bandit's pouch and convert some funds over for Jack anyways. And besides," she pointed out quickly when she noticed her uncle about to argue, "I still have to pay you back for the griffon feathers and dragons spleen. And it was my question that had you interested in Weevil saliva in the first place."

"What question was that?" Severus asked, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. Though the dark wizard's gaze shifted slightly to look at the rather pale form of his godson.

"Was their bite toxic?" Rylli reminded him, "They sort of reminded me of the Komodo Dragons and how they're always drooling. Muggles first thought that they were venomous, though found that their saliva contains some kind of bacteria that's rather lethal when it enters the bloodstream – which would happen the moment the lizard would grab a hold of anything with it-"

"Can we not talk potions at breakfast!" Draco exclaimed, waving his hands in front of him to get them to stop – right at the moment the phone begun to ring.

"I'll get it," Rylli said as she stood up, dropping her fork onto her plate before heading to the phone.

Severus watched her go before turning to look at Draco. "Hrn?" he asked, seeing the younger man's perplexed expression.

"When did she get a phone?"

"Not all of her colleagues are magical, Draco," Severus reminded the wizard, "Some actually nee-"

"What do you mean a spaceship crashed into Big Ben?!" Rylli's voice cut through his words and the pair were already heading towards the blackette; their breakfast and conversation all but forgotten.

River Thames

By the time that Amaryllis finally reached the park that lay near the more wealthier part of Cokeworth, the day had already reached stifling temperatures; although the nine-year-old made no notion of removing the rather oversized, well-worn male's jacket that she was wearing.

The last thing on the young, raven-haired girl's mind were her clothes... for the moment, at least.

All that was currently on young Amaryllis' mind was that she hoped that she hadn't missed them again, and the laughter she could hear coming from up ahead told the blackette that she wasn't – much to her relief.

A grin appeared on Amaryllis' lips, although unlike any normal child hearing the familiar sounds of other children laughing and having fun; her steps slowed, her ears listening closely as she carefully made her way unnoticed towards the swings where the sounds of merriment was coming from. As she easily managed not to be detected by the other children – thanks to many years of necessary practice – the nine-year-old found her favourite hiding spot behind a clump of bushes. She watched on attentively as two siblings swung on the swings.

However unlike the last time she saw the duo, there was a third person with them. A younger boy of about seven or eight with a messy mop of black hair – much like the younger of the two siblings watching the pair on the swings.

Was he a younger brother?

Her dark brown, almost black eyes watched on curiously as the older of the two boys' swung higher and higher in his swing. It had only been the week before when Amaryllis had first come across them, and the younger sibling had done something that the blackette had been enthralled by."

"James, don't do it!" the boy's older sister cried, but he let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flew into the air. Two sets of eyes watched on raptly as the boy – or James as Amaryllis had just come to learn – quite literally flew through the air; launching himself skywards with a bark of laughter instead of hitting the ground like any normal muggle would have before he landed lightly on his feet.

"Mummy told you not to!"

His sister dug the heels of her sandals into the ground, causing the swing – along with herself – to come to a sudden stop. The moment she had come to a halt, the older girl was out of the swing with her hands on her hips.

"Mummy said you weren't allowed, James!"

The spying blackette couldn't stop her lip from curling at the other girl's shrill voice. She really didn't like that girl... and a glance towards the younger boy told her that she wasn't alone in feeling that way – if the unusual sneer that appeared on the boy's face was anything to go by.

"But I'm fine," James replied with a roll of his eyes, not seeing what the big deal was. "Hey Jr, Tuney, look at this," he suddenly called as he moved closer to the bushes that the blackette was hiding behind, and the nine-year-old held her breath, her whole body tensing when the younger blacket turned to look at the bush James had approached. Her dark eyes met his amber, and she felt as if he knew that she was there.

"Watch what I can do."

Barty Crouch Jr didn't hesitate to approach James, although the boy's sister glanced around the playground. Seeing that it was all but deserted; the only people being herself, her brother, and their new, and rather odd friend – along with the unknown (to the siblings at least) blackette that was spying on them – Petunia followed Barty. She was feeling rather torn between being curious to see what her brother wanted to show her, and disapproving at what she suspected James was going to do.

The boy in question plucked a flower from behind the bush Amaryllis was spying from, and when he was certain that the others could clearly see what he wanted to show them, James held the flower out towards the pair in the palm of his hand. It sat there, opening and closing its petals over and over again, and both Rylli and Barty were unable to draw their eyes away from it.

"Stop it!" Petunia shrieked as she watched what her brother was doing with jealous eyes. She hated that he could do things that she couldn't. Hated that she envied the creepy and strange things that he could do.

"It's not hurting you," Barty remarked with a frown as he eyed the other boy's sister. James just closed his hand on the flower before tossing it aside.

"It's not right," Petunia retorted. Despite her words however, the girl's eyes followed the discarded flowers' path; her gaze lingering upon the petals that had once been moving because of what her brother could do.

"How do you do it?" Barty asked, his head tilted to the side as his eyes shifted between the flower and James. There was something in the boy's voice that had Amaryllis suddenly curious.

"It's obvious, isn't it?"

Amaryllis made her presence known as she stepped out from behind the bushes, unable to stay silent any longer. Her unexpected appearance had Petunia shrieking and running off back towards the safety of the swings. But James and Barty – although having clearly been startled by her unexpected presence – remained where they were. And when Amaryllis' gaze once more met the warm amber of Barty's, the blackette suddenly regretted her impulsive move as the boy raised an eyebrow. Her cheeks took on a light dusting of pink that seemed far darker in contrast to her pale complexion.

She was quick to avert her gaze.

"What's obvious?" Barty asked as he looked Amaryllis up and down, causing the blackette to force herself not to fidget under his scrutiny. She knew that her clothes were rather mismatched; her jeans too short paired with her father's old school jacket over the top of one of her mother's horrible, old-fashioned blouses that Amaryllis swore should have died long before the twentieth century. The blackette also knew that she was rather skinny, though tall. And her long, oily-black hair fell lifelessly around her shoulders after her last hair-tie broke earlier that day.

Despite her appearance however, there was an air of nervous excitement around the young girl as she noted that neither James nor Barty had gone like the older girl and ran the moment she had made her presence known. And taking their continued presence as a positive, Amaryllis lowered her voice, and – with a quick glance in the direction of the distant Petunia who was now hovering around the swings – said, "I know what you ar-"

"Oh, sorry miss," a sandy-haired blond apologised after bumping into a young woman with long locks of platinum blonde hair, cutting off the tune that she had been humming.

"It's no bother," the blonde was quick to reply, a practised smile flashing brightly across her lips before she continued on her way; easily weaving her way through the masses that had congregated as close as they could to the river Thames – each person wanting to gawk at the ship that had supposedly crashed into the river after colliding with Big Ben.

Tortahl wasn't that interested in any of it, and as she tucked the wallet she had taken from the man she had just run into; a smirk made its way upon her lips as she glanced towards the soldiers that had appeared rather quickly after the spaceship had crashed. The blonde had always found it fun to determine which ones had done such a thing before; tuning into each heartrate to measure their stress levels. It also helped let the hybrid which were the Aurors working undercover to make certain that no magical folk tried to get a closer look at the ship.

Magic always sang to her, no matter the species.

As she exited the crowd, Tortahl renewed her humming, the tune both familiar and new – as they always were - though the hybrid almost jumped out of her skin when something scampered up her leg; appearing on her shoulder in a flash of black and white fur. Something cold pressed against the side of her neck, and the blonde frowned as she reached up to see what her friend had stolen this time.

"Oh, Bandit. You didn't," she moaned as her hand curled around the familiar, cold, and metal handle of a sonic screwdriver, the blue tip lighting up as if to confirm its identity when she pressed the button on the side. Why out of everyone in the crowd did her familiar have to target the one person she didn't want to run into.

"Hey!" a male's voice called from behind the blonde, and Bandit gave off a terrified squeak before vanishing the same way he had appeared. Tortahl turned slightly to glance back the way she had come, noticing that the man her thieving familiar had pickpocketed was looking directly at her.

"That's mine!" the Doctor continued as he started towards Tortahl.

Oh, this isn't good... the platinum blonde thought as her gaze went between the Doctor, his companion, and the Time Lord's sonic.

"How did you get that?" Rose Tyler demanded as she followed after the Doctor.

"Oh, joys," Tortahl muttered right before she turned on her heel and took off; a hand moving to her right ear and tapping the earpiece that was sitting snuggly inside. "Change of plans," she said as she ran, "You need to bring her to me."