AN: Hello, fanfiction and Harry Potter fans. I do not own Harry Potter, but feel free to enjoy this or hate it. If you enjoy it, please leave a lovely comment, if you hate it, then leave some constructive criticism, thanks!

AN2: Merry Christmas Eve Eve! I hope everyone enjoys their holidays and stays safe!

Can You Take the Jump?

Chapter 4

Cokeworth, England: January 30th, 1960

"Robert! Robert! Start the car!" A blond and heavily pregnant woman screamed while clutching her kitchen counter.

A bang, crash and a loud "Ouch" could be heard in the suburban two-story home before a man with a head of brown hair popped through the door way.

"Ivy? What's wrong? Are you alright?" he asked still wincing and he clutched his knee.

"Oh dear, are you? Did you fall?" the woman clutched her stomach, but waddled over to her husband.

"Oh Lord! Ivy! Your water broke!" Robert's eyes grew wide. "It's time! Come on, I'll grab all the stuff you need, you just try getting into the car carefully." He placed the car keys into his wife's hand. The knowledge that his child was going to be born today made the pain on his knee disappear as he raced around their home grabbing everything his wife would need during labor.

"Oka—Ohhhhh" her response was cut off by a contraction. "Oh goodness, the contractions are really close together already. She must be in a real hurry to get out, but she's early! Robert, what if she's not okay?"

"Hush now, love. Everything will be alright. Let's get you to the hospital immediately. And yes," he said as he saw his wife's mouth open to interrupt him. "I remembered your special pillow this time."

…

"Where are you taking my wife?" Robert exclaimed when he saw a team of doctors and nurses wheel his wife's bed out of her room.

"Sir, there's been a complication, we need to do an emergency C-section. Now." It was the same doctor who greeted him at the emergency entrance.

"Complication? What kind of complication?" Robert asked in alarm.

"We're not sure why, but the heart rate of your baby is unstable. Please, I need to go." Without another word the doctor ran back to the gurney.

"Daddy? Is mummy going to be okay?"

Robert looked down at his oldest daughter with his most confident smile, but he couldn't help it when a shuddered sigh escaped his mouth. He hugged his daughter close to him, feeling useless as he could do nothing but sit back down, wait, and pray for the best.

…

"Doctor, she's alive."

"Don't be absurd. That's impossible."

"Her heart is beating."

"I did the preliminary scans myself. I'm telling you, you're wrong."

"Sir, I can feel the baby's heart beat under my fingers right now."

"Give me that baby." The lead doctor demanded. "Dear God! She's alive! B-but I don't understand, I swear on the scans only one of the twins had a beating heart."

"Is she healthy sir? She didn't cry."

The lead doctor grabbed his stethoscope and listened to her chest. "Her lungs are clear. Haha! This must be a medical miracle!"

"Perhaps, you made a mistake sir?"

"Don't be foolish, I've been delivering babies before you were in high school and looking at ultrasounds since they've been implemented into this hospital! This is a medical miracle I tell you!"

"Wow! Look! She's already opening her eyes!" A surgical nurse pointed out.

"Hello Miracle Baby!"

…

She felt weird. She couldn't really open her eyes properly and her mouth felt like something was missing. And her skin, oh bloody Morgana she felt sticky and wet.

When she finally pried her eyes open, she found her vision blinded by a glaring light above her. Was it the sun? No, she didn't feel heat, in fact, it was freezing cold. Suddenly a giant dark blob covered the light for her. "What the hell is that?" she thought to herself. She moved her arms to push the blob away, but that was when she saw the outline of her arms.

Stubby. Fat. Very pink, but covered in a chalky white substance.

"H~~o M~~~c~~~ Baby!"

"What baby? Baby? Huh?" she said, but it didn't come out like she wanted. More like a cry.

…

"Freak Gas Explosion at Cokeworth General Hospital"

"Look at these bloody headlines." Muttered a man. He was tall, but the way he stood made him seem shorter than he actually was. His voice was gruff and cranky like he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed for the past 20 years.

"Do you know how many muggles we had to Obliviate because of this one incident?" he exclaimed to no one in particular. "It's like a fucking tornado had hit this room! One of the female muggle healers almost died because one of those tiny knives hit a major blood vessel!" The more this man talked the more frantic he was getting. "It had to be an attack! There is no way this happened because of that!" He yelled as he pointed to a pink bundle held in another man's arms.

The pictures on the muggle newspaper showed a snapshot of the room they were currently standing in. The surgery room of the muggle hospital had shattered windows, lightbulbs popped, and other non-fixed materials and equipment seemed to have been thrown around or broken beyond repair. The grumpy man was right, it did look like a tornado had come through.

"What else does it say Alastor?" An old wizard in peculiar clothing asked the newly appointed Deputy Head Auror Alastor Moody.

Albus Dumbledore stood in the center of the catastrophe as he held a pink bundle in his arms. His curious twinkling blue eyes looked down at the child. She was beautiful with almond-shaped eyes wide open in amazement, but she didn't seem to quite make eye contact with him.

'An unexplained gas explosion in Cokeworth General had people both horrified and shocked. It has been confirmed that a woman was receiving a C-section during the accident, but no statements about her current condition has been made by the hospital." Moody read out loud.

The old man nodded along and stayed silent for a while. He glanced at the third man in the room who'd been silently inspecting the child from an arm's length.

"Healer Black, perhaps you should inspect the child? Make sure she's okay."

Alphard Black, stood tall and handsome at the ripe age of 28 with the other two men in the disastrous room. He'd been on-call, but he didn't expect to be called into a muggle hospital at 3 AM in the morning. And then to arrive and see Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody holding a newborn baby in this disaster of a room? No, definitely not what you expect to find on a Friday night, leading into the early mornings of Saturday.

"Ah, yes." He took her from Dumbledore's arms, a small bundle just big enough to fit in his forearm. She was so small, with whisps of curly red hair poking out from her soft pink knitted hat. Her big almond eyes came into direct contact with him, which caused her mouth to drop open. Her stare was intense, far too knowledgeable for a baby that was born a few minutes ago.

"What can you make of this, Healer Black?" Dumbledore asked, interrupting Alphard from his musings with the newborn.

"What?" The young Healer looked up to his old professor. "Oh, um, frankly, I've never seen anything like this. Accidental magic this powerful? This young? No, never. Even with healthy pureblood babies, where magic has been in their veins for generations, I've never seen or heard of a newborn so magically powerful." He was simply astonished.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "You're right, but there doesn't seem to be any other explanation. If she didn't do it, who else? Everyone else in the room were muggles."

"There's no way she did this, Dumbledore." Moody argued.

"Are you telling me that you think this was a random act of terrorism by pureblood radicals? That they snuck into this muggle hospital to kill off this one child without even knowing if she was magical?"

At this, Moody did not respond. While it was highly unlikely that this disaster was caused by that pink bundle, there was really no other explanation that made sense. It wasn't a muggle accident like the paper claimed, they could feel the residual magic radiating in the room. If it were radical blood-purist fanatics, the attack wouldn't have even succeeded in sending a message. Cokeworth wasn't a big town, the attack was too small and not lethal enough.

"And the child, she's healthy?" Dumbledore asked.

"It seems so, I'll need to do some extra scans to make sure, but I think she's perfect." Alphard nodded. "But, if it really was her doing, I don't know how those muggle parents are going to raise a child teeming with such magical abilities."

She stared at directly at him with eyes like a kaleidoscope, at times they were hazel, sometimes they were like honey, then amber like firewhiskey; it was entrancing. He'd never met a baby that could make such direct eye contact.

Her brows were furrowed, like she was also in deep thought, as if she was also worried about what they were discussing.

He couldn't help but smile, what a peculiar little baby.

"Hm, you're right." Dumbledore didn't finish his sentence but turned his gaze back to the pink swaddle. He watched as the newborn maintain eye contact with the man holding her, but she had avoided his gaze. For a brief second, he wondered if she could possibly know his ability. No, that would be insane, she was only about 30 minutes old.

"I have a preposition, but not one I make with a light heart." He stated. "I suggest adoption."

"WHAT?!" The two other men shouted.

Both men started speaking their opinions at the same time, loudly.

"Albus, that's insane. The child has a family." Moody stared at the old wizard as he's finally lost it.

Alphard fervently nodded, "Sir, we can't just take a child away from the parents! A child needs proper parental love and support!"

Dumbledore put his hands up. "Yes, I am aware of the concerns, but these parents have no way of handling this child. She is bound to get emotional and let loose control of her magic again and what will happen then? She nearly killed a nurse this time. What if she succeeds next? And if her victims are her parents or her siblings?" He asked calmly.

"What if we set up some defensive shields around the parents and the kids… and around the house?"

"Then the parents will never be able to make direct contact with their child, how is that any better? Besides, unless they are wards, defensive shields fade after a couple of hours. Even I can't make them last more than a day." Dumbledore placated. "I know the options aren't ideal, but there really is no other choice. According to records, the muggle healers assumed she was stillborn. If we change the memories of the staff here today, the parents will not suffer any further heartache than they already faced."

Alastor Moody didn't like the situation. He hated complicated things, and this situation was as complicated as it gets, but that didn't change the fact that what Dumbledore was saying made a lot of sense. Babies cried, children threw tantrums, and teenagers were hormonal.

"This is madness." Alphard shook his head when he saw that Moody was relenting to the idea. "You're talking about kidnapping a child from her parents, allowing them to think that she died when she's breathing and…" Alphard paused and looked down at the child in his arms, "beautiful."

"I will personally search for a family who will love this child as their own." Dumbledore promised as he glanced at Alphard Black who gripped the child tightly, not willing to set her down.

Alphard stared at the child. He was amazed at how expressive she was, her responses were truly like she understood what was being said. She was so small in his arms, 5 weeks premature. That meant her lungs weren't fully developed and there wasn't enough fat deposit to keep her warm. She seemed too small and fragile, too beautiful to be cast away to some random family who will probably tell Dumbledore that they can't handle her. She was a diamond in the rough.

"It's not right." Alphard shook his head, looking directly into the eyes of the great and powerful wizard. "I know you only brought me here because I was on-call, and you might want a different Healer who would have agreed with your plan, but I'm here. You're going to have to take my opinion into account."

Dumbledore raised his brow, not used to being told 'no' for any of his plans.

"I will take her." Alphard's eyes were wide open, as if he couldn't believe what had just said. "But only for the first few weeks to do preliminary checks and to measure the threat this child will have on her family. The parents will be informed of this, and they will have the choice to come visit their daughter whenever they please and be a part of their child's life."

"That'll mean they're going to have to know about magic."

Alphard stood straight and stared at Dumbledore with the arrogance and snootiness that Purebloods were well known for. "Well then, I suggest you should go and pay them a visit, Professor Dumbledore."

…

Alphard slowly approached a couple who stared at their baby with a mixture of awe and concern. The mother was weeping as she touched the glass that separated them, while her husband placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. They looked frazzled and confused, but it was understandable. They had left their home 5 hours ago, hoping to have at least one healthy baby, but found out that the other baby was actually alive, but still ill, and that the concept of magic was not fantasy, but a reality.

"She's beautiful." He remarked when he stood next to them.

They jumped, the mother was sitting in a wheel chair and the father stared at him with wide red-rimmed eyes. Dumbledore stood away, on the side, waiting for their verdict after they discussed their options with Alphard.

"My name is Alphard Black." He gently introduced himself. "I am the Healer in charge of taking care of your baby." He pointed to the small infant lying in a crib behind the glass.

"Healer?" The woman asked hesitantly.

"He is what you would call a doctor." Dumbledore supplied.

Alphard had no idea what a doctor was, but he had a feeling that if he made any form of negation, the situation would just cause more confusion, so he nodded and smiled. It was his special smile that he used on particularly scared patients' parents. It was one that eluded confidence and reassurance, or so he was told.

"Yes, I graduated 1st in my class and aced ever single one of my tests at Healer's—I mean Doctor's Academy. I'm the best there is in the country."

"So…" the father hesitated, tears welling up in his eyes. "So, she's okay? Our baby's okay?"

"I'm going to do the best that I can to make sure she will be." Alphard answered.

"You're saying that she caused the explosion in the surgery room?" the mother asked.

"We believe so, but to make sure, we're going to have to keep her under supervision for the next few days." Alphard assured. The two parents looked so shaken, the looked as if they'd fall over with the smallest push. "I was told you'll have a portal connecting you to your room in the mug—other hospital and to our hospital, here in St. Mungo's."

"We went through a wall!" the man shouted, as if he still couldn't believe what had happened.

"Is she dangerous?" The mother whispered, almost inaudible to anyone. She was staring at the little pink bundle with an indescribable look on her face.

Alphard bend down to look the woman in the eyes. He reached out to take her hand, but hesitated for a moment. This would be the first time in his life that he's ever touched a muggle before. He could hear his blood-extremist family and ancestors screaming in his head, but he grasped the woman's hand hard, forcing her to look at him.

"Mrs…?"

"Evans."

Alphard smiled, "Mrs. Evans, truth be told, I don't know what you're feeling right now. I'm not a parent and I grew up with magic surrounding me. It's been a part of my life since I was born. But what I can tell you about magic is that it's… magical."

Mrs. Evans cracked a smile.

"Maybe it's hard to think of magic in a positive light right now," Alphard acknowledged, "but it's the thing that's allowing you to go home with two daughters. Not just one. As unconventional as it may be and as bizarre as everything that's happened was, isn't the fact that this little baby is alive and breathing something to celebrate?"

Alphard looked up to Mrs. Evans's eyes to notice they were the same as the baby's. The woman nodded with conviction and looked up to her husband who gave her a reassuring smile.

"Yes." Mrs. Evans nodded vigorously.

"Good." Alphard smiled brightly and stood back up. "Now, important question. What's going to be her name?"

The couple smiled at each other once more before responding in unison.

"Hermione Katlin Evans."

…

Two days had passed, but there was no sign of baby Hermione's destructive tantrum. In fact, she was the quietest baby Alphard had ever seen. She never cried or whined once, no matter how wet her diaper was or how long she'd been awake.

In fact, he's never seen her sleep. She always seemed to have her almond shaped kaleidoscope eyes wide open, silently observing everyone and everything as they passed her.

The Evanses were there everyday, sometimes with their other daughters, sometimes not. After Alphard had completed his preliminary tests, she was deemed her safe for the family to touch and hold, which elated the parents. Ivy would come in alone sometimes and sit with Hermione, speaking to her softly and smiling when the newborn responded.

"She's so smart, it's like she can understand everything I say." Ivy smiled as she looked up to Alphard. "That must mean her brain is developing well. Maybe she can leave the hospital earlier?"

"Let's not get too hasty Ivy," Alphard chuckled, but admitted that Hermione was an intelligent baby. "We still don't know what caused the explosion in your surgery room, and her tests show that she's not gaining as much weight as we'd like."

"Maybe it's my milk. Maybe it isn't nutritious enough?" Ivy asked, looking worried, but the frown eased when Hermione gripped her mother's index finger with her tiny hands.

Alphard watched with amazement as the baby soothed a mother's worry. It must have been a coincidence.

"You should test my breast milk, I'm sure I brought another bottle." Ivy shook Alphard out of his thoughts when she started digging through her bag for another bottle.

Alphard took the bottle from the woman's hands, but he didn't believe that the breast milk was the problem. "Lily's gaining weight perfectly fine, right?" Alphard asked. "And you're not giving her more than Hermione?"

Ivy nodded.

Alphard gently placed the bottle back into Ivy's hands, "Then I don't think your milk is the problem. We fear she's not sleeping enough, and the most recent blood test shows and immensely high cortisol level." Ivy stared at Alphard blankly, so he quickly paraphrased his words into laymen's terms. "She's stressed. Really stressed."

Ivy turned to her sick child with a frown on her face. "What are you thinking of in that big brain of yours?" She softly asked the baby girl lying in her crib. Alphard turned to Hermione, wondering the exact same thing.

"Oh, and Ivy," the woman turned to face Alphard's serious expression. "She's not crying."

…

It was early morning of the third day since baby Hermione's arrival to Alphard's ward. He walked up to her crib to unsurprisingly find Hermione lying awake, looking up at him with the most exhausted expression he'd ever seen on a baby's face.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" He asked her quietly. Of course, not expecting a response, he resumed to check her vitals for the day and took an early morning blood sample. She flinched as the needle pierced her skin, but made no other noise, like always.

He ran some tests on the sample to find the same insanely high levels of cortisol, but levels were always high in the morning, so hopefully they would drop in a couple of hours.

"Pinky!" he whispered. With a crack, a young male house-elf appeared in front of the two.

"Yes, Master Alphard has called his Pinky?"

"The usual." Alphard said, as he put on his Healer's robes and checked his list of patients for the day. "Make sure you call me if she starts sleeping or crying, or doing anything remotely baby-like."

"Yes, Master. Pinky knows."

Alphard left the room with a heavy feeling in his chest, like something bad was going to happen, but he needed to go see his other patients. It was impossible to keep 24h supervision on the newborn when he had other patients to worry about, but at least Pinky was good with children, and he knew how to swaddle a baby.

Alphard when about his day, running around St. Mungo's Hospital, tending to the children in need of treatment when one of his colleagues tapped his shoulder looking incredibly nervous. "Healer Black, I really need you to follow me. Your sister, Mdm. Walburga Black is here. She won't let any of us come remotely close to her to ask her why she's here. She claims we're tainted by touching and treating muggleborns. Please hurry."

Alphard raised his brows in shock. Walburga never came to St. Mungo's. Whatever she was here for must have been a real emergency for her to even step foot in the building. With an uneasy feeling in his chest, he jogged after his colleagues to greet his sister.

A tall pale woman with dazzling grey eyes stood in the private sector of St. Mungo's. She would have been considered quite stunning if it wasn't for her nasty sneer. She stood in the center of the room with two healers who stood in the corner of the private suite that cost more than their monthly salary.

"Walburga." Alphard greeted as he entered the room.

The older sibling turned her nose up on her younger brother. "Well, you took your sweet time getting here. Although I don't understand why you insist on working at this miserable filthy place," she glared at the two healers in the corner, who looked affronted at Walburga's crass behavior. "If you insisted on working at such a primitive place, then you should at least be on time. Blacks should never be less than perfect." She stated primly.

Alphard resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but there was no point in arguing with his sister. With a sigh he got to the point of the matter, "Why are you here Walburga? You hate coming here."

"Mudbloods everywhere." She grimaced in agreement as she took a step away from the two healers in the corner as if she could somehow be infected by them by their proximity.

"She's from the Bones family, and he's a Prewett. Neither are muggleborn, the hospital sent two capable purebloods when they heard you were coming." Alphard explained.

"Blood traitors aren't any better than mudbloods, Alphard, or have you already forgotten all of your teachings since you've left home."

Alphard could hear the two Healers' appalled scoffs. "What do you want Walburga?"

Walburga stared at her brother's tense posture. Always so easy to provoke, he was always a horrible Slytherin, and more importantly, a horrible Black. A desire to provoke him further rose, but she glanced at the disgraces to the Pureblood name that stood in the corner. Taunting would have to be delayed to a later date if she wanted to leave quickly.

"The baby won't shut up. And the useless elf can't do anything about it." She simply said.

"Sirius?" Alphard's voice turned genuine. "Why? Is he sick?" he asked with concern.

"No, the our healer says he's fine, but the damn child won't stop crying. Mother and father will be coming to visit tonight. I need him to behave, but I don't know what to do."

"If Kreacher's taking care of him, he should have all the necessities, is Healer Montgomery sure that Sirius is fine? Maybe its an ear infection? Or a fever?"

"No! Its none of that!" Walburga snapped.

Alphard frowned. Babies only cried when they needed food, nappies changed, or were tired. What else?

He turned to his sister with a look a fury in his eyes. "Have you hit him?" he asked in a low snarl.

Healer Bones put a hand protectively against her 6-month baby bump and Healer Prewett gasped in horror.

"No." Walburga snarled in reply and shot a deadly glare to the two healers.

"Walburga if you're—"

"I'm not lying. I wouldn't dare to hurt the heir to the Black family name." she said.

Alphard sighed in relief. Then he didn't understand why his nephew would be crying.

"What have you tried? Have you done anything that's worked?" he asked.

"He only stops crying when I hold him." Walburga seemed to sigh with frustration and annoyance. "Well? Do you have something I can give the child? A potion maybe? Or a spell?" she asked, patience waring thin.

Alphard could see the two Healers with wearing horrified expressions. He turned to them, "Healer Bones and Prewett. Thank you for your assistance today. I can take it from here." The two healers' eyes looked back and forth between the two Black siblings. With a reluctant nod they left the room.

The second the room door clicked shut, he threw a silencing charm at the door and whirled around to his sister. "YOU CALL YOURSELF A MOTHER? YOU WANT A POTION? A SPELL? JUST HOLD YOUR FUCKING SON!" his throat felt tight, and his eyes burned. Unwilling to show his weakness to his demon of a sister he turned around and put his forehead on the cold wall.

Walburga stared at her younger brother's episode. "He should be glad I held him at all." She whispered. Her voice turned cold and filled with dark resentment. "If he was a girl, I wouldn't have so much looked at his direction." With that, she stormed out of the room.

Alphard winced when he heard the door slam. He sat down on the soft sofa in the luxurious room and put his head in his hands.

It was a great disappointment to their parents, and eventually herself, that Walburga, the first born child of the great and powerful Black family, was born a girl. The talented, beautiful, and intelligent Walburga Black was taught to curtsy, sit pretty, dress nicely and drink tea while her brothers, arguably less talented and less intelligent, were taught politics, and medicine. Not just that, she was less doted, less held, less congratulated. Alphard's earliest memory of his sister was when Walburga returned from Hogwarts after her first year. Their parents hadn't even gone to greet her at King's Cross station.

"Ladies don't slouch Walburga." Their mother reprimanded.

Straightening her back, Walburga gently handed the piece of paper she was holding to her father. "Father, these are my grades. I did well. All the professors were very impressed." She smiled obviously proud of her achievements.

Pollux Black took barely a second to glance at his daughter standing in front of him before turning his gaze back at the Daily Prophet.

"Smart girls aren't attractive to men, Walburga."

The clear devastation in her father's lacking response was evident on the 11-year-old's face. She turned to her mother to see if she'd say anything, but she sat there pouring tea for her father.

Their youngest brother, Cygnus, sat in his high chair "Wahbooga!" waving his chubby toddler arms to his sister. Their parents smiled, "Yes, my little prince, that's your sister. What a smart boy." His mother lifted him from his high chair and snuggled him. His father reached over the table and ruffled his hair. When Alphard had turned around to congratulate her sister on their inattentive parents' behalf, she was gone.

From then on, according to Alphard's memories, Walburga never really cared for her grades. She always managed to pass, but her concerns were more on looking the best and landing the right husband in order to become the head family.

Before he could ponder on his sister's situation any further the door burst open.

"Healer Black! Your house elf is going crazy looking for you sir! He's screaming something about a baby? He's quite…"

Alphard stopped listening after the mention of Pinky and ran out the door. By the time he arrived at Hermione's private room, the door had already flung open, allowing him to see the chaos inside.

A high pitch scream pierced his ears and echoed throughout the large corridor of the hospital.

"Oh, Pinky is so sorry. Pinky didn't know what to do. Oh!" Pinky cried. Alphard looked at his elf, he was bleeding on his forehead with a deep looking cut. He looked around, he called out to Healer Bones, who'd come out to see what the commotion was, in fact many people were in the hall to see who was screaming.

"Bones! Fix his forehead!"

"Healer Black," Bones gave him a worried glance. "is everything—" She was cut off by another scream.

Normal babies did not scream like that. They cried and wailed from hunger and exhaustion, maybe sometimes even fear or a small injury, but the scream he was hearing was of torture. Alphard pulled his wand out and ran into his office.

"Alphard!" Heather Bones yelled after the man, but he wasn't able to hear her. The 6 months pregnant Healer chased after her colleague, but whatever she was expecting to see in the room, it wasn't this.

A small baby was floating in the middle of the room, squirming around like she was trying to get away from something. Her eyes were tightly shut as fat drops of tears rolled down the sides of her face. Her mouth was open in silent scream as her small little lungs ran out of air to make any sound.

"What the fuck?" she stood there with her jaws dropped open.

Alphard, unaware that someone had followed him in to his office, jumped. Both Healers stared at each other with jaws slacked and eyes wide. But neither had time to daze in shock, as the baby took a deep breath, probably to start screaming again. Quick to react, Heather Bones turned around and shut the door quickly throwing a silencing charm on it, she pulled the blinds over the window and turned to see Alphard approaching the floating baby. She took 3 large steps and yanked him back.

As the child screamed again, the healers cringed and clamped their hands on their ears. The objects in his office started to levitate, and thin glass was starting to vibrate dangerously fast.

"Black! We need to get out of here!" She yelled over the screaming, she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. "This is incredibly dangerous! We need to get out of here right now!"

"What are you talking about?" he asked and trying to pull his arm out of her grip.

"She's an Obscurus." She said fearfully. "I don't know where you found this child, or how she came to your care, but this is far beyond our skills. We need to call someone who's better trained to handle matters like this."

As if Bones's mention of the dark magical parasite was a honing call, the baby started vibrating in front of them, her eyes flew open but instead of her normal hues of hazel and golden brown, there was only white. She was having a seizure and it broke Alphard's heart. He pulled his arm out of Bones's vicelike grip and walked towards the child.

"Alphard!" Bones screamed in panic, she tried to reach for her colleague again, but when a pair of scissors whipped dangerously close to her pregnant belly, she took a step back.

Considering that he had been to the delivery room where she was born, thus witnessing first-hand the damage this child could do, he knew what he was doing was stupid, and potentially suicidal. However, if he learned anything today with his sister's visit, you needed to hold an upset child. He strangely felt calm approaching the shaking girl in front of him as raw magic whipped around him like tornado. He had no idea what he was going to do once he held her, but he knew it was better than standing there and doing nothing.

Carefully, he reached out with his arms, but felt a resistance. Her pure unadulterated magic surrounded her like a cocoon. He could feel its force pulse around her like a real heartbeat. His sleeves ripped apart and his arm tingled painfully like tiny needles stabbing him everywhere, but he pushed through the magic barrier to put his arms around the floating baby and pulled the volatile child into his embrace.

"There, there." He patted the baby gently. He didn't really know what he was doing but decided just to go with what felt right. "I'm here, you're not alone now." He gently whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry for leaving, but I'm here now." He started softly patting her back and stroking her soft hair. "You must have been so scared, all alone. You're okay, I'll take care of you. I can help you." He continued to speak softly into her ear. At first it seemed like his soothing had no effect, but slowly the shakes decreased, her intense frown lessened. Eventually the explosive magic disappeared.

The ragged breathing and tears calmed, and within a few moments, she was soundly sleeping in his arms as if nothing had happened.

"Oh my god."

The two healers whipped their heads around at the sound of the voice to find Ivy Evans standing there, jaw dropped and terror in her eyes.