When classes resumed in January, there was a distinct change in the air for N.E.W.T. level students. This was their final term at Hogwarts, which was both exciting and foreboding. At one time, Athena's trajectory in life seemed relatively clear but the last few months had changed things dramatically.

Athena's eyes traveled over the patchwork of announcements and advertisements, spotting one written in vibrant green ink disclosing an upcoming visit to Hogsmeade for upper-level students. It had been a while since her last visit to the wizarding village that sat just outside of the castle's grounds. She'd have an opportunity to procure the firewhiskey she'd been craving. It was still several weeks away, but it gave her something to look forward to. Maybe she and Cedric could grab a drink together at one of the local pubs. She smiled at the thought. Things had calmed down substantially in the rumor mills now that the holidays were over-thank Morgana. At least regarding Athena & Cedric.

The latest buzz was about the groundskeeper, Hagrid, being half-giant. Though Athena didn't get what all the fuss was about. Half-giant? Half-goblin? Half-veela? It made no difference. A person is a person, and Hagrid had been decent and kind to her. He of all people didn't deserve the degradation because of his heritage - no one did. Also, the man was huge. Was anyone really surprised to know that he was at least some part giant? Still, it was unfair he was being judged so harshly.

It reminded her of the handful of times she'd been called a "mudblood." As if someone's blood could be dirty, she thought bitterly. It was a foul term used by blood-purists and bullies to harass muggleborns, like Athena. It was an insult that stung like a knife between the ribs. It didn't account for character or achievement but labeled the target as "lesser than" by virtue of their heritage. Even thinking of the word made her seethe.

The thought stuck with her all day and what was worse was she felt like she couldn't do anything about it. In fact, she'd been feeling useless a lot lately. Cedric had the Second Task figured out (mostly) and Harry had been avoiding her. At least, it felt like he was. She'd been trying to find him to talk strategy about the task with no luck. It had been several days since Athena had seen Harry, Ron, or Hermione, and she got the feeling it may have been by design.

As the date of the Second Task grew closer, the Potter-Diggory divide resurfaced. Athena suspected Harry might have taken offense to her new proximity with Cedric. His avoiding her only made her more worried about his preparation for the Second Task.

Athena had been in the library all afternoon, barely getting any work done, too many thoughts racing in her head. Amelia had ditched her about 15 minutes ago to 'find' Martin, what Amelia really meant was to snog him. 'Snog,' Athena's nose wrinkled at the word-it just sounded unpleasant.

She certainly didn't mind the activity it described. Especially when Cedric was involved. Once again, Athena's DADA assignment was neglected in favor of thoughts of the handsome Hufflepuff. At least she knew he would be prepared for the Second Task. Well, he said he had a plan anyway. That was more than she could say for Harry. She let herself worry about the younger Gryffindor for another few minutes before shaking her head, as if the vigorous movement would dislodge the intrusive thoughts somehow.

'He got through it once before without you,' she noted.

How could she have been so dense? Here she was worrying about what would happen next, when she had several books locked away in her trunk that very likely had the answers. Shoving her barely begun homework into her bag, she couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't thought about consulting her books sooner...It's not like they were particularly far away or difficult to access. They'd been under her bed for the last few months, untouched. Even remembering them seemed to be taxing on her brain. She dismissed that as post-studying fatigue.

By the time she reached her dormitory she was winded. "I need to..." she breathed heavily "... exercise more... so... out of... shape." Neither of her roommates were in. Good. She wouldn't dare take out the books if she had an audience. Amelia was far too nosy for her own good and Patti... well Patti Athena didn't know well enough to share more than small talk. How could she ever explain her situation to the girl that was barely there?

'Hi Patti, I know we've only said about 11 words to one another, but by the way I'm from the future and l need some alone time to consult my future stuff…"

Anyone in their right mind would have Athena sent to St. Mungo's for evaluation or worse... Azkaban. Time travel for the average witch or wizard was strictly forbidden. Back home it would have earned her a one-way trip to Yellowknife. Located far in the northernmost region of Canada, it was North America's maximum-security prison. Though the States had a handful of prisons that could rival Azkaban, Yellowknife was where the worst of the worst north of the equator were sent. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. Yellowknife was so close to the Arctic Circle it was not only frigid, but experienced months and months of darkness at a time. She remembered hearing somewhere that it completely messed with a person's sense of time. Days could feel like weeks, weeks months...well, you get the point.

'Distracted again, Athena,' she shook her head to re-focus her thoughts. One day it might actually work. Rifling through her trunk, she found a few titles that could be useful. The first was, "Wands of Winter: Wizarding Wars of the 20th Century" by H. Conrad Stowe, which should cover the last 100 years or so. The second, "Pride, Prejudice, and Propensity to Repeat Mistakes of the Past," by Amina Maroun. It had been required reading for all 7th years at Ilvermorny. Since the 1980s, Ilvermorny required students in their final year to take a seminar co-taught by the Non-Magical Studies & History of Magic Departments that addressed discrimination, genocide, and oppression in the magical and non-magical worlds and how it was every human's responsibility to face history and prevent such atrocities from ever occurring again. It was an emotionally heavy course, but one most Ilvermorny students don't regret taking. Stowe's text would likely have something more relevant than this one.

Athena sat cross-legged on her bed with Stowe's book splayed open in front of her. The Table of Contents divided the text into 4 sections: I. The Wizarding Conflicts of the Great War (1914-1918); II. The Global Wizarding War (1920-1945); III. The First Wizarding War (1970-1981); and IV. The Second Wizarding War (1995-1998).

1995. The number was searing her eyes, causing them to burn and well ups with salty tears. 1995. It was 1995. Athena really hadn't processed what it would mean for her to be here. Now. On the verge of war.

'Focus.' she willed herself to not let herself get completely derailed. Her mental breakdown could wait.

Athena flipped to the Fourth Section of the Book: The second Wizarding war. She read the Introduction aloud:

On October 31, 1981, the martyrdom and murder of James and Lily Potter and the miraculous survival of their son, Harry, the only known survivor of the killing Curse in recorded history, marked the end of the First Wizarding War. As the new millennium approached, so too did an old enemy, the criminal who referred to himself as "Lord Voldemort." (See Section III for more on the rise of the dark wizard Voldemort). Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry became the epicenter of unusual activity leading up to the Second Wizarding War including an attempted theft of the Philosopher's Stone (on loan from famous alchemist Nicolas Flamel), the opening of Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets - once believed to be a myth, the capture and subsequent re-escape of the now-exonerated Sirius Black, and the tragedy of the Triwizard Tournament...

The words on the page became blurry and streaked as if they were being washed away before Athena could read them.

'No, no, no.' She felt her throat tightening as a wave of panic coursed through her. 'This isn't happening-can't be happening!' But it was happening. Where there were once words, now were fading smudges of ink…just gone. With a sweaty palm she drew her wand from her robes, gripping the thin piece of Maple tightly. She began to rattle of spells in a state of absolute panic.

"Finite incantatem!"

"Revelio!"

"Finite! Finite!" she cried, but nothing made the words come back. She desperately grabbed for the smaller book. She breathed a sigh of relief seeing that each word remained in place. That comfort was fleeting. As the pages continued turning, several sections were marred by the same affliction and whole pages that were once filled now appeared blank.

Athena could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears -thump, thump, thump - and felt her lungs fill with sand. Every breath felt more labored than the last. She was sweating despite feeling so cold her toes could fall off. If her hand hadn't been gripping her wand like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to this earth it would have been trembling. Her vision was out of focus, and it made her feel even more disoriented.

It wasn't her first panic attack, but it was the worst one she had in a very long time. Without a Calming Draught all Athena could do was try to let it pass. Several times she tried to clear her mind, but without fail her thoughts returned to the vanishing words. The one advantage she had from the future disappeared before her eyes.

"What's the point?" she whispered to herself. Curling up in a ball, she wept while the question continued to haunt her. What was the point? She truly was useless.

Athena woke from a dreamless, unrestful sleep. Her eyes felt heavy and sore, and she guessed they were some angry shade of red. Her head was still pounding from the previous night or maybe the same night? It was still dark and judging by the soft snores she heard, her roommates were fast asleep. She chanced a glance at the watch on her left wrist and groaned. 4:53 a.m. Too early.

But now that she was awake, she couldn't go back to sleep. She changed as quietly as she could, taking care not to disturb Amelia or Patti. She grabbed her wand, the two books from her bed, and her bag before sneaking out of the room.

She needed to talk to Dumbledore about what she saw the night before. He would want to know. Athena left the common room leaving a groggy Fat Lady swinging closed behind her, muttering something about early risers and beauty sleep. Athena huffed. The portraits at Hogwarts were too opinionated for her liking. Forgetting the selfish portrait, she remembered the task at hand. She set off in the direction of the headmaster's office with urgency. Hopefully he was awake.

When she arrived, she was surprised to find the spiral staircase in the place where the griffin statue was supposed to be. Clearly, she wasn't the only one who needed to meet with Albus Dumbledore that morning. She climbed the steps slowly, breathing deeply to banish the lingering anxiety coursing throughout her. As she neared the top of the staircase, she could hear voices muffled by the large wooden door, which was open just a crack, which allowed Athena to hear some of the conversation.

"It's getting darker" a nasally voice said. It was the very distinct voice of the Potions Master, Snape.

"Karkaroff noticed it too," he continued. "He may run." Run from what? Or to what? She didn't know.

"And you, Severus?" the calm voice of Hogwarts headmaster probed." Will you follow?"

"My place," he paused dramatically, "is here."

Athena didn't want to risk getting caught eavesdropping and knocked several times on the door. "Headmaster?" She called out, even though she knew he was in there. "It's Athena Mayall, sir, I have something urgent to discuss with you."

"Come." It was spoken so softly, she barely heard it, but the door swung open revealing Snape & Dumbledore.

"Oh, ah, good morning, Professor Snape." Athena feigned surprise. "I apologize for interrupting and for barging in so early, but I wouldn't be here if it weren't important."

The older wizard gave her a knowing book while Snape frowned at her skeptically. It wasn't a complete lie. It was important.

He gestured to an empty chair in front of his desk as the heavy door swung shut. Athena took a seat, her eyes flickering to the sallow-skinned Snape who gave no indication that he intended to leave. That could make this conversation awkward.

"Uh, Professor Dumbledore," she started nervously, "It's sort of a sensitive topic." Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with mirth.

Snape cleared his throat. "I am aware of your... unique situation, Ms. Mayall." His face didn't give anything away.

"Oh," was all she managed to respond with. "I informed Professor Snape of your situation as a safety measure, Ms. Mayall, following the Yule Ball," Dumbledore explained. "Now, what has you out of sorts at such an early hour?"

He watched her carefully as she explained what transpired the previous day. Something flashed in his eyes so quickly when she described how the words began disappearing before her eyes and her spells could not bring them back. She handed the books to Dumbledore, observing quietly as he and Snape examined the pages, many of which remained blank.

"Time is a curious thing, Ms. Mayall," Dumbledore murmured, toying with the page between his wrinkled fingers. "It isn't always linear in terms of cause and effect."

She half expected him to explain time using words like "wibbly-wobbly" or "timey-wimey" like a character from a muggle television show she loved. "Ms. Mayall?" her cheeks flushed at being caught up in her own thoughts.

"Sorry, Professor, but if I'm following your thinking correctly, are you suggesting I've caused a paradox?" Athena was mildly horrified.

"It's very possible," he stated calmly. It was odd how calm he was. In Athena's very limited experience, paradoxes weren't exactly cause for celebration. She felt the anxiety building back up inside her. Breathing felt harder.

"But" the headmaster continued, "paradox is not always synonymous with disaster, Ms. Mayall. Your very presence in this time is a paradox, so occurrences such as these were not unexpected."

She tried to manage a smile, but all that she could muster was a half-hearted grimace.

"Perhaps it's best if Professor Snape and I monitor these books for the time being." It wasn't a question. She nodded solemnly.

"What am I supposed to do now?" She felt defeated, unsure of herself, small.

Dumbledore paused to consider the question. "Live, Ms. Mayall. Live."

AN: Do people still beg for reviews? Do people still write reviews? If you made it this far, do you still write reviews?

I'm doing this for me, so it doesn't matter one way or another to the story or what I plan to do with it if you leave one. I'm just interested to see what, if anything, people have to say.