Hey everyone,
So this chapter is going to be – endless. I have no other words for it as this chapter really is going to be endless. It might just be the longest chapter I ever had and I am not going to divide it up into several parts because I feel it is just too important to put this all into separate chapters. I just cannot do that, not in good honor.
Also, I do have a change of plans, but that is thanks to a bit of PM'ing that I did with Daithi4377 and I realized that the plans I have for Rosie also concern several other characters and when I realized how many those were, did I decide that this increased amount was not enough for me to dice up the chapter.
Finally, would I like you all to know that, after seeing how Read All Books kept in the lead after 30 people had voted – come on, I know more of you read this – I decided to just consider that the winning vote. However, Venquine Mates is now the topic of my newest poll and I would like you all to go back and vote once more.
Thanks in advance,

Venquine1990


Chapter 14
Mothers Unite

Rosie's POV

Unlike last night, do I not feel as if my body has disappeared and been replaced by that of another. Instead of that do I feel that I am still in my body, only that at the same time my body has become transparent, which is only further confirmed by the fact that, looking down, makes me see that I am floating above ground.
Yet I only do this for a few seconds before taking my chance to quickly look around and again I get the feeling as if I am inside a house that is build by someone who either is low on budget or low on care for where he keeps the people I can now clearly see are actually within this house; and those people shock me.

Yes, Lily and James are indeed in front of me, yet there are also two men who look like they are twins and who, for some reason, remind me of the young Weasleys I met recently, and finally a man that I can only assume that he is related to Sirius as he looks like someone who could probably be the other man's younger brother.

The five of them are yet again seated at the table that Jeffrey described to us yesterday, but before I can do anymore than open my mouth in the hopes of telling them what we know, do I feel some kind of power force, probably the same that led me here, pull me away from the two, yet while leaving the room, do I not pass any wall.
Instead of that do I pass just blank emptiness, but while I pass back even further, do I also feel my body growing, which confuses me at first – until I see why I only pass emptiness the further I travel back and the thing I see makes my very stomach, whether solid or not, drop through me and fall down from where I travel.
The five people, three of which I know have a connection to those I have grown close to, not just since I moved to Little Whinging, but also over the last couple of days, have actually been shrunk to Barbie doll size and have been locked within an actual doll house, the emptiness I pass through being the front of the actual doll house.

"That's how Pettigrew hid them. He shrunk their bodies just when the Killing Curses were supposed to hit them and then duplicated their bodies to pretend they had been murdered, when actually moving them in here. That is what James meant when he said that Pettigrew had covered his tracks of their kidnap as greatly as he has."

This thought goes through my head, but then I notice that, while I am back to my own natural size, I am also moving slightly up and looking down, do I see that I have passed through a fake wall, one made of transparent rock that looks so solid that I believe I would have even felt it if my body wasn't transparent like it is.
I am also moving up a staircase, yet at the other end, do I pass through yet another faux-pas wall, this one presenting a wall that is made of solid cement at the upper half and boarded wooden parts at the lower half and this fake wall looks so convincing, I quickly make sure to remember the little cabinet on the direct right of it.
Then I continue moving back and to my shock, I end up in a small entrance hall that has the same kind of wall as the living room I just came from, but then with brown-painted cement and darker rusted wood, yet the slightly dusty, but otherwise healthy looking state of the wood has me worried about other possible occupants.
"Could Pettigrew have a possible accomplice? Someone who will actually help him escape before we can get justice on him or who will hurt those poor prisoners if we try to free them?" But then I pass through the front door and the first thing I hear is two older ladies talking as they pass the house, their words comforting me.

"Why does the state accept this? Why is the Prime-Minister not just selling this poor, fine looking house to the closest real-state broker? That little brat hit the sack years ago, more than a decade even. Seriously, why is the state accepting just a simple will stating that this house should remain in name of a death family?"
Yet while her companion has no answer for her and while I can tell that the street in which this house is located consists of 2 houses on the ground floor followed up by a porch leading up to the 1st floor houses, but without 2nd floor houses above them, do I also notice how the street only allows access to cyclers and hikers, no cars.
I take all of this in, from the grayish brown bricks that make up all of the houses on the block, to how there are three small poles separating one half of the street on the far right end of the block to the half behind me and how, while there are no roads for cars, the cycling road still separated the two sidewalks on each side of the road.
"Pettigrew, we got you and we know where you left your prisoners – and unlike us, do they still remember everything so, with their help, will we not just bring you down, we will take out all of your plans to the last miniscule detail." And with that, do I feel the power that gave me a headache and led me hear vanish from my form.

Lily's POV

I don't know how or why, but ever since last night has the belief that we will indeed be saved very soon, the idea that Pettigrew has somehow slipped up and got caught, that the ones we love are indeed remembering us for who we are in their lives, never been stronger and James and I made sure to share last night's events with the others.
Now, just a minute ago, do I feel again as if there is a presence here that doesn't belong to any of those sitting at the table with me, all of us done with our talks about what happened last night and now discussing all the things we can do once we get out of here, our hope in this being true having been reignited since last night.
I look around, drawing the attention of the two others and just when I feel as if I saw a spirit that looks like an old female friend of mine just older, do I feel something that definitely draws both my attention as well as that of everyone else; an excruciating pain that attacks me from within and makes me grab my temples with a pained scream.

I do hear one of my locked-up companions shouting with the same amount of pain and hear the others shouting our names, James shouting mine while the twins shout the name of our black-haired friend and while I can feel my old friend pulling me close with his hands on my shoulders as I try to see or even think through the pain.
But then I discover that the pain was handed to me for a reason as I see something that makes tears of pained joy spring to my eyes as I actually get to see the one thing I have always wondered about; I see Pettigrew, many years younger, holding onto two infant boys who are both no older than a year and moving far away.

Knowing that this is when he actually kidnapped my kids away from my husband and me away from him as well, do I keep my focus on him and to my anger, do I hear him talking to someone who looks like he could give Vernon a run for his money when it comes to build and talk the man into taking my so-called Squibs of kids.
To make matters even worse does he tell the man of James' survival and promise him actual access to the Potter vaults in return for the man never revealing that my kids aren't actually his and keeping them as miserable as a victim of Voldemort himself, the man he speaks to smirking more evilly the longer Pettigrew speaks.

To my relief do I not have to then witness what this monster does with my sons, yet what I do discover is that, while neither of them are actually werewolves like their father, my youngest does actually have an affinity for the Moon, whereas my eldest grows more powerful the more he is in the sun and then I discover it.
The both of them are actually Elementals and while they are – I can just tell thanks to their build in some of the visions that flash past my mind – obviously bullied and mistreated, do they actually somehow combine my incredible temper with their father's sense of humor, making for a pair of infectiously humorous pranksters.
And what is even better do to the both of them seem to grow closer to several other kids the older they get, meeting the gang when they look to be five maybe six years old and then, as another five to six years pass, does something suddenly clear up around the blurry looking gang of kids and this sudden vision shocks me out of my dazed state.

Messy black hair that looks like a carbon copy of the man still holding me, a pair of almond-shaped emerald green eyes that are covered by a pair of black-framed glasses that have obviously been broken at least two to three dozen times, a pair of cloths that would sooner fit a Cave troll than the boy actually wearing them.
The boy is actually, for the short second I see him clearly, reading a copy of Hogwarts, A History and he is obviously the same age as my twins, yet there is also no mistaking who he thinks he is. That boy right there is Harry – and while he probably thinks he is mine, do I feel tears gather in my eyes as I wonder where his actual father is.

"Sirius, where are you? You – you would never raise Harry like that. What – what did Pettigrew do to you to allow you to be so far away from your oldest son he gets raised by someone who treats him like – whoever it is that raises him like that. Where are you, my sweet doggy friend? Where in Magic's Name are you?"
And while I think this, do I not realize that I am also muttering it, until I hear a pair of shocked gasps and when I look to my right, do I see the twins looking at me wide-eyed, while James, who had been holding me only minutes ago, now seems to have the same dazed look in his eyes as I must have had while going through my visions.

James' POV

Lily and Regulus had been mostly quiet while we discussed our possible and hopeful plans for when we indeed get saved as I still very strongly remember how devoted and confident the voice of the person who borrowed Lily's body last night, yet suddenly the two changed from their silent behavior to the absolute opposite.
The two of them shout in pain, each of them grabbing for their temples with their hands as they scream, but while I reach for my sister in all but blood and while the twins rush for our black-haired fellow prisoners, do I then notice how the both of them then stop screaming, their eyes wide but glazed with an unfocused daze.

This makes me look at the twins in worry and then the one on the right says: "You feel remembered two days ago." The other then goes on: "Someone used Lily to convey a positive message to us last night." And then the first goes on: "And now two of our friends suddenly go into a daze caused by painful magic."
"Something big happened. Something big happened and it changed the entire game plan Pettigrew has been living with since he brought me here and took me my youngest son a seven months later." Yet this seems to be the magic thing to say as the same magic that must have attacked the other two – now assaults me.

I scream in pain as the magic attacks me from the inside mentally and then I see something I have been worrying about ever since the day I was brought into this terrible place; the boy that was taken from me on the same day I was to be presumed murdered by that terrible bastard that actually had it out for my precious angel.
Precious little Harry, as I see him from some distant Point of view, seems to somehow be changing before my eyes while he also seems to be transported somewhere and while I can only fear for wherever it is that Pettigrew brought my son to, do I gasp in absolute horror when I see what the changes cause to my son.
His sweet black hair becomes messier as if it's supposed to imitate my own, his sleek, aristocratic facial structure becomes a little more round, he loses his high cheekbones and to my absolute horror, do his gorgeous brown eyes with silver shine added to them change color and form until they resemble Lily's emerald green.

"Pettigrew! Why! Why did you change my son like that? What is your plan? Why make my son look like two people you made people believe to be dead? What's the purpose behind that?" I think, but then I see something else that makes me scream out as I see a woman and man that Lily swore to never approach again.
"DURSLEYS! Leave him! Leave my son alone! Bring him where he belongs! NO! No, don't take him in! You don't deserve him, you bastards!" Yet while I shout this, do I still see everything, perhaps not all that clearly, but still the magic makes me see how my son gets raised – or better said abused as he grows older.
Then, to my ultimate relief, do I see my precious little angel turn six and actually meet a very pretty girl with brown hair that looks like it's a right mess before he suddenly meets another person, this one a boy who seems at least one to three years younger than him and male, but when the vision clears, do I feel my heart stop.

Long black hair ringing down to his shoulders, very clear blue eyes, a pair of very familiar high cheekbones and a forehead that I recognize every time I look in the mirror. I don't know how, but Pettigrew managed to change my youngest son so that he looks like a replica of me and Siri, but only if you actually look close enough.
"Jeffrey, my – my sweet little Jeffrey. You're – you're with your brother. Oh, Thank Magic." I whisper to myself and then I watch on as the two as well as the girl and several others grow up together and grow closer, yet while this all happens, do I also see something that tears my heart into several weeping pieces.
While the two brothers are together and while they clearly have good friends, do they not recognize each other for the kin that they are, nor do they seem to be raised well as I can clearly see the desperation with which all ten of them are clinging to each other and the bonds that grow between them and that tears me apart.

Then the vision clears and I look up at those around me, the others looking at me and each other and just by the look I see in the eyes of Lily and Regulus, do I know enough: "We all saw them, didn't we? Our babies?" The two nod, while this still shocks the twins and then Lily says: "I – I saw Harry as well. James, he – he –."
Yet I stop her with a raised hand and a nod as I say: "I know, I saw him too. He looks as if we were a couple. Still, we need to keep one thing in mind, Lily." The woman looks at me and I smile as I say: "Your guest that visited us last night. We need to remember what she said and hold onto our hope in those words."

To this the others nod and then Lily tells us something that even increases my belief that we will be leaving this ridiculous prison soon enough: "James, I – before I got my attack and the visions, I – I was sure I saw something that looked like a vague specter or ghost of someone. I saw it appear over there and move away."
And while she says this, does she aim for the open wall of the whole prison, the place where one would think we would dash for in our needs to escape, but which we also know are covered in all the spells that keep us captive and the size that we have been forced to become all those years ago when we got kidnapped.
"And this specter? He – he or she moved through the wall of spells?" Regulus asks and Lily nods as she says: "It was definitely a female – she – she almost looked like – like Rosie – and she – I could have sworn I saw her gasp when she saw what we were locked up in." And this alone intensifies my belief in our upcoming release.

Regulus' POV

The story that James and Lily told the twins and me this morning is one I have much trouble believing, mostly because I know how determined my actual mate would be to find and get back to me if he were to have even the slightest of hints that I am still alive, yet James' sense of being remembered after so long does give me a theory.
"Could Pettigrew have played with people's minds? More than he did when he made people believe that his so-called master killed us? Is that why my lovely serpent has yet to try and find me? Has – has Pettigrew made people believe him dead, so they didn't even think to question him about possible secrets he could have?"
Yet while I do hear her, do I then get my answer as a sudden pain strikes my mind, passing through the mental shields I have been building around my mental strength if only to keep up my moral strength and while shocked that any kind of power could break through such well trained walls, do I see something in my mind's eye.

Something that, to me, was another reason for me to build up the walls, as I see my three year old son, my sweet boy with his sleek black hair, aristocratic looks and dark eyes change into a boy with a slightly round but not chubby face, darkish brown hair and a pair of eyes that look like a mix of my own and James'.
"My son, what has Pettigrew done to you? Where are you?" Goes through my mind and then I get my answer, one that breaks my heart as my son, by Pettigrew, being handed over to a thin, sick-looking woman who actually has a sigarette sticking out of the side of her mouth, while I can also see a lot of very, very yellowed teeth.
This is followed up by the woman constantly smoking into my son's face whenever he cries or asks for something as he grows up and while the way that my son gets raised makes my heart break into more pieces than that there were students at Hogwarts in my years there, do I also see something that makes the pain less hurtful.
As my son turns eight, two years after he actually discovers that he has an affinity for Stone based magic, does he seem to grow closer to nine other kids, one of them his age, one of them a year younger, five of them two years younger than him and one even four years younger than my boy – and then I recognize him.

He looks exactly like James, he actually has Lily's eyes instead of my brother's, he wears cloths that would sooner fit Hagrid than the boy himself – and yet I would recognize the boy that my brother fought with me to make me godfather anywhere and I think: "Harry, you're – you're there too? Then – who are – the others?"
Yet while I try desperately to use my own mind magic to clear up the images of the other kids, do I fail, but then I see something else as I see Harry – shockingly enough as the only one of the ten – going to Hogwarts and then I gasp as, on the train, he meets a boy that is obviously a Weasley, yet it is not the boy that shocks me.
It's the rat that the Weasley boy shows my eleven year old godson and while I feel my shock and anger overcoming the magic of the spell that showed me this, do I let my instincts respond to this vision and I shout: "PETTIGREW! YOU TOUCH MY GODSON AND YOU WILL DIE! YOU HEAR ME? YOU DIE!"

And with that do I break free of the spell and does my mindscape return to the prison I have been stuck in for the past thirteen years, the twins shocked when they hear me shout and Lily even looking at me with pure fear in her eyes as Harry is also her godson, due to James' choice, but when I look at James, do I see he is in trance too.
This makes me sigh and the twins ask: "Pettigrew? He's – he's with Harry?" I nod and while we wait for James to wake from his trance, do I tell them what I saw; how I saw my son get given to that bint, who I silently swear to get back at, how I saw his talent grow and how I saw him get befriended with nine other kids.
"I saw the same. My – my twin boys. They met nine others as well. And Harry was there. I saw him." Lily then says and I nod as I say: "I saw Pettigrew as well. I don't know how or why, but Harry is the only one who has been going to Hogwarts for the last couple of years and – and he met a friend – who owns a rat."
And those last four words say it all to those around me, before James wakes, discusses what we all saw and after James brings back our spirits with what happened last night, does Lily then make me believe a little stronger that we will be saved as she speaks of a specter – a specter of a woman who is my beloved's sister.

Emily's POV

My daughter is a witch. Something I never expected and, even though we have been on holiday to France together just a few months ago, does it still feel so very, very strange to know that my daughter goes to a school where the only way I can reach her is if I write a letter and send that off with what I thought was a nocturnal creature.
Yet while Hedwig, the owl of my daughter's best friend, is definitely an intelligent and amazing creature, does receiving mail through her still take some time for me to get used to, making me relieved that Hermione is as self-sufficient as she is at makes it so that she doesn't write me every single day or week.
Still, even though my daughter has magic while my husband and I do not, can I not help this seventh sense – almost like a mother's instinct – that has been bugging me ever since the Halloween night that apparently changed history in the world that my daughter has become part of; the night her friend prevailed over darkness.

I never really understood how or why a whole community would believe that a one year old infant could defeat someone they deemed the tyrant of the seventies, yet what confuses me even more is that, whenever I think of this boy and his bond with my daughter, I feel my instinct rear up, as if I am related to more than one of his friends.
I have already, in solid detail and on several occasions, discussed this with my husband, who at first told me it was just the whole experience with the world of magic, but then, after a few more conversations, actually admitted that he felt the same and that it was also always at the same moments as I did.

And then finally, after two years and several months of wondering why I felt like this – and almost twelve years of wondering why I am betraying someone when I call Hermione my only child – do I get my answer as my husband and I are enjoying our annual lunch break in the back of our dental practice when it happens.
A stabbing pain, like the one we sometimes cause our patients when trying to pull out a wisdom tooth, attacks me from within my own mind and while my husband dropping his usual espresso latte makes me know he must be feeling the same pain, can I only scream as the pain is bad enough I feel like blacking out.
Instead of that does the sight of my dental practice fade away, making me know that my sight in moving inward into either my mind or even my heart and the sight that I see there shocks me as I see myself, 12 years younger and fast asleep on a rocking chair, but instead of holding only my daughter – do I also hold a boy.

The boy himself has very pale hair that looks as if it will darken to my kind of brown over time and has Hermione's curls in his hair as well as my own chubby-looking cheekbones and is sleeping as softly as my daughter and me, his small infantile head leaning against the lower part of my shoulder as he gurgles in his sleep.
Wondering if this could be a time where I had babysat the child, does the same instinct as the one I have felt for years shout at me that this is not the case, yet then suddenly do I notice something. A series of three very soft colored lights shoot from the slightly ajar window on the left behind me and hit all three of us.
Looking at the window, do I see a small chubby man that is as high in size as my daughter is now crawl into the room through the window and with – to my shock – a wand in hand, does he approach us and then start chanting under his voice, me only picking up some of the muttering that he is saying while chanting:

"Stupid – Mudbloods – master – can't be – won't be – no more – they will – utterly annihilated." And while I have no idea what he is talking about and while his chanting does not make me understand it anymore, does he then suddenly stop and to my utter horror does he then take the boy from my grasp before he says:
"There. Together with that Mudblood, that Blood Traitor and that overconfident idiot's, you now make little brat #4, don't you feel special? And don't worry, I have just the place for you – as I do with all these unworthy little brats." And with that, and a pop that actually wakes my daughter and me, does the man vanish.

By now do I have no doubt that I just witnessed the day my only son got kidnapped, but then – while I wonder what magic allows me to see this – does my vision change and do I see a man driving into a very boring and dull-looking neighborhood on an actual motorcycle, his whole look screaming danger – and meeting the kidnapper.
I look between the two and my heart sinks in fear when I see the chubby kidnapper hand my son over to the man with the words: "Remember, blend in, mistreat the brat, force him into a soldier if possible – and the Potter gold is all yours." And while the dangerous looking biker smirks in greedy glee, does the kidnapper vanish.

After this the whole vision becomes slightly blurry and to my revulsion do I see my son grow up, his pale hair turning a soft silver white instead of warm brown due to him not coming out of the house until he actually escapes it at age six, yet what seems like days after his escape does something happen that comforts me.
A group of six kids, a few of them older by either one or two years and the others of my own son's age, seem to have been treated no better by their guardians than my son and while I take a mental note of this and everything I see of the streets around me, do I then see something that, as more time passes, shocks me.
About a year after my son's escape, does he actually meet another three people, one of them a year older, one his own age and one two years younger, yet it is the middle one of the three that shocks me absolutely senseless as I would recognize him anywhere after all the letters and pictures that my daughter has send me over the years.

"HARRY!" I shout, my shock making me be pulled out of my trance, yet it seems to take my husband a little bit longer than me to break free from the spell's hold. Deciding to wait for him, do I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, working my hardest to remember as much as I can, not just about my son, but everything else as well.
Remembering the looks of the man that kidnapped my poor boy – who is obviously my daughter's twin brother – to what he had been saying as well as how the person he gave my boy and the man's neighborhood looked like to the finest of detail, do I then hear my husband wake from his trance, his words pleasing me:

"When I meet that wild-driver and his ratty little friend, they're going to wish they never knew our world existed." And with that do I nod, the both of us conversing before we make a united decision. And as if our minds are not just united with each other, but with another – does Hedwig the owl arrive at our window.
We look from the snowy white being to each other and then nod, large, determined smiles on our faces and while I have no doubt that, if not thanks to our kids than to the spell that just hit us, we still possess at least a sliver of magic ourselves, do we close our practice and jump into our car, ready to head on north.

Narcissa's POV

I've always thought that Lucius was much too protective and – sometimes – even lavishing of my darling Draco, yet whenever I tried curbing in the man's needs, did a look enter his eyes that, while even he never quite understood the feeling those eyes expressed, they were still enough to make me accept his ways.
However, this is not always guaranteed and what the man caused both the youngest of the Weasley line as well as the entire school we both went to as teens is something I find highly unforgiveable and though some might find my methods too harsh, did I also know it was the only way to make Lucius actually feel regret.
I had told him how irresponsible it was of him to assume that an eleven year old girl and a randomly enchanted book, which was clearly from cover to cover filled with the darkest of magic imaginable, thus making it very violable, could control a creature that wasn't just considered legendary, but also very, very ancient and deadly.
I had reminded him of the last Heir, how said heir had lost control and then had to vanish because his monster had actually killed and while it was silently agreed between us that there had never been a chance for the Heir to have been Hagrid, had I still used the wild man as an example when I laid it into my husband and said:

"Hagrid may not have been the Heir, Lucius, but that Weasley girl is just as responsible for who the monster does and does not kill as the oaf. And seeing how no one knew from where the beast came, not even you, how could you have then guaranteed, not just yourself but to us – that Draco might not have accidentally walked into it?"
And with that the man had blanched, his mind realizing the truth behind my words and he had actually begged me to forgive him, yet I had only told him to never touch Hogwarts or any place where our son resided with such dark and dangerous beings and forms of magic again; the man swearing on his life he would see it done.

Yes, Lucius is a vane and powerful man, who sometimes gets lost in his own reputation of power, yet his care for me and his son, not to mention how caring and protective Lucius is of Draco, cannot be questioned and while I know that Lucius and Arthur do not see eye to eye, do I know that even the Weasley patriarch agrees on this.
Yet while I have sometimes wondered what it is about Draco that makes Lucius become so different from the cold and heartless Death Eater that he was when in service of the Dark Lord, do I not care for this either, never truly realizing that there is a meaning behind Lucius' natural instincts that is both traitorous and terrible.
Yet while I never realized this, does that apparently not excuse me as I suddenly feel something attacking me from within, as if a form of magic has been released from both my surroundings as well as my heart and are uniting in an attack on my mind, making it so that my mental shields of twenty years old are utterly useless.

Yet the magic that attacks me seems harmless in nature as I only find my surroundings fading before my eyes, yet the sight that replaces it shocks me to the core. I am standing in Draco's nursery, obviously twelve years ago, yet instead of there being one set of baby tools and furniture, is there a second set everywhere.
And what's even more shocking is that I am standing in front of the soft yellowish pink crib, holding onto what looks like a perfect little girl that could very well be Draco's twin in my arms, infant Draco himself standing in the crib behind me, while Lucius is actually dueling with a chubby looking wizard who is firing constant spells and curses.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH HER?" Lucius shouts, yet the wizard refuses to answer him and to my shock, does he use the fact that Lucius is not casting to shout this question as his chance to cast several dark looking spells, all of them hitting Lucius and making my husband float in mid air with an almost dead look in his eyes.
My past self screams at this, but then gets hit with the same spells, causing for her to drop my little girl, who then gets picked up by the chubby wizard, who gazes at the softly crying girl shortly before casting a sleeping spell on her and then he looks up and while his voice is clearly masked by magic, does he say:
"I know you, you slimery snake, and I know you become protective if you think something is wrong with those you actually let into your heart. I'll make sure your mind forgets this little brat exists, but I will also make an exception for you. Your mind will forget, but your heart will not. Because of that – he will be spoiled rotten."

And with that and dark sinister glee sounding through his altered voice, does the man look at my son, who seems dazed from all that he has witnessed and does seems too detached from his own infantile mind to really respond and while the man's altered voice changes from dark glee to clear disgust, does he continue and say:
"A spoiled brat who acts like the darker kind of that Potter fool I can use, two Purebloods who get raised with pride and therefore know all about Pureblood customs – and who will have Narcissa's desire to share what is important to share – no, the brat must hate the Malfoy's not get enriched." And with that the man vanishes.

Yet he also reappears seconds later in the vision, this time in a neighborhood that is so obviously Muggle I already fear for my little girl and the person who answers the door that the man approaches makes me hate whoever the two of them are with a vengeance that is not unlike the rivalry between Severus and the Marauders.
"Ah, so this is the little skank I'm supposed to change into my little – ahem – protégé?" The woman living at the address asks, wearing nothing but an almost see-through bra and a thong that has a pair of fishnet embroidered stockings covering her legs, though the word covering is one my mental self uses very lightly.

"Yes, and remember to fit in as well as possible. Abuse and use the girl all you like, just make sure you steal any mail from her that gets send through owls and you will receive all the money you will need.""And men? You promised me a whole onslaught of rich, good-looking purebloods, remember?" The whore asks.
The man grimaces and says: "That, we agreed, was the end reward to your actions. I can't present those to you until all my plans have come to a success. Until then, just make sure the girl is miserable and that she believes her only goal in life to be your apprentice." And with that the man walks off, hearing the woman call after him:
"Okay, but I will get those men from you in due time." And while she closes the door behind her, does my anger rise to the level of the Vesuvius when it exploded upon Pompeii all those years ago as she hisses: "One way or another, those Purebloods are mine. And now for you, little tramp, let's start your titty training, shall we?"

Yet, while my anger makes me almost turn into a right Molly Weasley when on a roll, does the magic apparently feel that it is far from done from showing me my daughter and while I luckily get sparred the info of whether or not my girl actually goes through this so-called apprentice training, do I still witness her as she grows.
Grows from an infant little girl into a fine looking young woman, who obviously inherited my natural mask of high socialism as she apparently defines herself this way, her soft blond hair with icy blue strands proving her to be a true Malfoy, while she still shocks me as I suddenly notice how she has warm green eyes.

Yet the greatest shock comes only a little later into the whole set of sights and visions as I see her, having become eleven years of age, giving a going away and good luck party Muggle style to a young man I would recognize anywhere, regardless of how I have lived in the magical world for the last twelve years.
The sight of this young man, this actual boy-hero, shocks me out of the vision and while I suddenly remember how my Draco had told us of how a bunch of upstart kids had shown up from the future, apparently friends with Potter and had come with books about the present and future, does only one thought cross my mind:
"Is one of those – my little girl?" And with that, regardless of what time it is, where my husband could currently be or what his activities are at the current time, do I change myself into formal Malfoy robes and call for a House Elf, telling it one direct order: "Fetch my husband and take me and Lord Malfoy to Hogwarts – at once."

Alice's POV

My mind is blank. As far as I know it has always been blank. It's blank when I walk. It's blank when I try to talk. It's blank when I get fed. It's blank when I go and fall asleep in my bed. I just lie in there when not walking or trying to talk and while the people caring for me are nice, my life feels like a piece of paper – utterly blank.
This has been my life for so long I do not even know if days, weeks or even years have passed since the last solid thought has truly entered and remained stuck in my mind, when the last time was that my conscious mind and memory were actually active and available for me to use. Time is as dull to me as my actual life.

Therefore, I cannot understand, nor immediately grasp what is going on, but after a few moments of feeling it and registering that there is indeed something that I feel, does my body respond and do I scream out, pain assaulting me from within the blank whiteness that I have, for so long, believed to be my empty mind.
Yet the pain is mostly caused because suddenly, together with hundreds and thousands of other things, I see things I have – it feels – long since forgotten and while I slightly know that this also counts for everything else, does it seem as if, to the magic returning my conscience to me, these visions are the most important to retrieve.
Screaming in pain for the onslaught of all that returns to me, do I try to lessen the pain by focusing on what this magic allows me to remember and the vision is definitely one that makes painful tears rush to my eyes as I see myself, being cursed and tortured by a truly mad looking couple of magicians, while babies cry nearby.

"Wait, babies? But why does my mother-in-law only visit me with my son? Why one when there's supposed to be two?" I wonder, pain assaulting me again and reminding me to keep an eye on the vision and just when I do, does it seem as if the crazy couple have deemed us tortured enough as they stop their casting.
"There, that ought to teach those blood traitors. Thinking they can produce a child that can take out our precious master? Ha, he won't get the chance. Let's go and kill the brat.""No." A mismatched voice, clearly charmed to sound unrecognizable, suddenly sounds in the room and when I see who it is, does the woman screech:
"No? WHY NOT? This is the child that can defeat our master! This is the reason you let us in! Those two are history, so why not –?" But then the couple suddenly gets hit with a whole onslaught of spells that leaves them hanging from the floor with a glazed look in their eyes as the man who cursed them approaches as says:

"The Dark Lord is a fool. One can never rule with fear and terror, it always changes to anger and anger leads to rebellion. And you are fools as well for not thinking that I could have an ulterior motive for bringing you here. I am no match for these two, especially not if I pose a threat to their offspring. So – they had to go."

The man ends, his voice still distorted, yet his tone sounding as if he is discussing the weather instead of our mental demise and while the two who tortured me and my beloved Frank glare at him, does he saunter into the nursery next door, minutes later does he emerge, yet the way that he does causes for the woman to scream again:
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THE BOY'S THE THREAT! TAKE HIM! NOT THAT DUMB SKANK!" And the man answers: "Because the best way to let the Dark win – is through a force of Light they will never expect. Time to pay a visit to sweet little Augusta – and some partners of mine to drop off this little brat."

And with that the man leaves and the vision changes, yet the emotions I finally feel are part of me once again do not and while I wonder who this lowlife thinks he is, do I feel my disgust and need to see him fed to the monsters of the Forest grow as I see who this so-called partner is that the man takes my daughter to.
The man may look regal and he definitely has a suit on that might make him look as if he works for high society, but the hate and disgust that shine in his eyes prove just what a monster this person really is. "Raise her well." The kidnapper says as he hands the man the girl and a slimmer of glee enters me as I hear how fearful he sounds.
Then I witness how my little girl grows up and while I can only compare it to a more brutal form of the Muggle story known as Cinderella, do my eyes also tear up in relieved joy as it seems as if the girl has inherited what I know is my kind and gentle heart and with pained pride do I watch as she clings to the kindness in her heart.

Then, as I see her grow older, do I also see something else that makes me feel easier at heart as it seems that, after a real nasty event that almost turned badly wrong in more ways than one, my daughter gained two new friends and thought them seven more, yet suddenly the vision clears on one of the first two.
And the sight of this young man, who is one year younger than my daughter, who I suddenly realize had been nearing the age of two when she was kidnapped after I had been tortured into my most recent state of being, is what not just makes me break free of both the vision and the state I have been in for so long, but also gasp:
"James!" For the boy I saw looked beyond too much like James to be normal, yet when I recall everything I saw about him, do I realize that the kidnapper of my daughter had a secondary reason for keeping me in my state as I whisper: "Lily, she – she isn't Harry's mother, but – then why – does he have – her eyes?"
And with that, while having the healers that have obviously cared for me for all these years fuss over me as they recover from seeing me suddenly awaken from my state of pretending to be a vegetable – for lack of better term – do I wonder what other child believes himself the son of the wrong set of parents – like my own little girl.

Molly's POV

"I love all of my kids. Let no one ever question that. If they do, they meet the wrong end of my wand. If they harm my kids, they meet the wrong end of my wand. If they even think of insulting them, whether in my presence or not, they will meet the wrong end of my wand." These thoughts go through my mind on a daily basis.
I also perform to them to the best of my ability and carry great pride not just over my reputation as Best Mother Witch of Magical England – something which Bill somehow got set up as an actual official award halfway through his third – but also pride for all the achievements my sons and daughter have performed.

Bill has become both Head Boy as well as earned himself a well-respected job at Gringotts, making it so that, after many years, we can put our fears of others stealing our money just because we're blood traitors to rest as Arthur, before Bill got his job, had sometimes got suspicious of how quickly his monthly income got spend.
Of course, the man had always kept a close tab on my own spending, but that is more because, in my youth, I had a really nasty shopping addiction and it had taken Arthur and my parents years to help me get over it. Arthur had wanted to stop after we believed I had healed, yet I had never agreed and so he had kept his check-ups going.

Charlie had been Quidditch Team Captain and won the Cup for Gryffindor several years, regardless of them not winning the House Cup as the Point System was really messed up sometimes and while I did have my biased opinion of that, had Charlie shocked me when he said it was often thanks to either Snape – or Filius Flitwick.
The man apparently felt he needed to keep working to winning the House Cup in order for him to hold onto some of his dearest memories of the Late Lily Potter and sometimes, Charlie had told me, the man played very cheap, yet never cheap enough that it would bring shame to either the memory of the sweet woman or his House.
Still, after this Charlie had taken a most unusual job, that is unusual for anyone who didn't know my son and while I will not deny that my motherly instincts are often times overworking themselves with worry, am I still proud for how dedicated and focused Charlie is when he comes home to tell us about his chores as a Dragon Handler.
Yes, Charlie and his job might give you the impression that he is nothing but a wild card with no real ambition or believe in an aspiring career, but the Reserve he works at is the very finest in the entire world and has earned several rewards for regrouping endangered Dragon species. Never let it be said that my son doesn't know his career.

And then there's Percy. My sweet intelligent young man who, while he sometimes thinks more with his head than his heart, has the kind of intelligence that, I know and sometimes snicker about, puts even his Ravenclaw girlfriend Penelope Clearwater to shame, which I know is one of the reasons she's attracted to him in the first place.
Oh, I know all about how my twin boys – who remind me of my lost twin brothers every day a little more – make his life hard because they and their behavior are practically the mirror opposite of my third eldest, but I also know that, whenever the twins aren't looking, Percy gazes at them with a love that only an elder sibling can give.
Yes, Percy will be great. If I can just make sure that he learns how to think with his heart and mind in equal amounts, then there will be nothing – not even our reputation as Blood Traitors – that will stop my son from accomplishing his dream and becoming the next Minister for Magic – once Cornelius has run his course, of course.

And then there are the twins. The two boys who probably think I hate everything about their dreams and ambition, but who are so into their heart's desire, they are not thinking like the business men I know they can be. They are always so focused on their products, I just no longer know how to make them focus on all the rest.
"Maybe when they come home over break, I'll – ugh, they'll hate me, but maybe destroying anything that has to do with their products, will have those two focus on the business itself. It's hard, but – it might just be worth the shot." I think to myself, stopping in my activity as I really don't like how I want this plan to succeed.

Instead of that, while going back to my chore, do I focus on what I sometimes, by motherly instinct, feel is the core reason I am so protective and caring for all of my kids; my youngest son, Ronald. I know even Arthur has forgotten it, but I remember very vividly what happened when Ron was one – or most of it.
I never fully remember why, but sometime between Ron's first birthday and that of his very best friend, did something happen that suddenly made Ron so depressed, he cried whenever he believed himself alone in a room and wouldn't sleep unless in the arms or bed of another person, whether they be parent or sibling.
No one had ever understood why Ron had behaved this way, but after a few months had the boy almost become dead to everything and everyone, no longer crying over anything, not being alone, hungry, with a dirty nap or anything else, but not responding to my cooing of him or others playing and caring for him either.
I had truly believed by that time that something awful had happened, something I could not remember, but something that had definitely somehow affected Ron terribly and just when I was truly growing desperate over this, did Ron seem to awaken from what I still to this day call his three stages of grief and acceptance over this grief.

I never found out why Ron was like this or what it was that I had clearly forgotten, but that infant Ron had not and had hurt him, yet as the boy grew a little older and became more aware of the fact that, by this time, he had a baby sister, did he hunger for Ginny as if he was her only brother; as if he was her guardian angel.
Ron cared for Ginny. Ron, as he got old enough, helped me change Ginny's nappy. Ron cradled and soothed Ginny if she cried or awoke in a fit. Ron helped Ginny learn how to walk. Ron was there when Ginny said her first word – which naturally was Won. Yes, Ginny became Ron's center of attention as he healed.
Yet to see a two, then three, then four year old and so on be that focused on a sibling of his that was only a year younger, something that, while he was two years older than his sibling instead of one, Bill had never done for Charlie, had worried me and from that worry my protective care for my children had grown and fostered.

Yes, Ginny is incredible and whether she ends up with Harry or another person who is just as good in caring for her as Harry and Ron – though Ron will probably have issues letting such a person near his little sister, knowing him – I just know she will live the life I have always dreamed of when being near my youngest, little girl.
I will also not deny that, like many other mothers of female Pureblood heirs, I have often dreamed of having Harry marry Ginny once they got old enough, yet this dream had gotten an honored grave when I actually met the boy as he was just too much like my own son for me to feel fully comfortable if he were to fulfill that dream.
Oh I won't deny the chance of it happening, of Harry and Ginny being happily married, loving each other and raising their kids with all the brilliant aspects of their characters that make them the brilliant young people they already are, yet I have just as little trouble just going ahead and adopting Harry, making him a Weasley by blood.

Yet while these thoughts, which have grown quite usual to me since I first met Harry at Kings Cross' Station, go through my mind as I finish my chore and go back to continue on one of the first sweaters I hope to have done by next week so I can get started on the others, does something shocking happen that stops me in my tracks.
A pain that assaults me from within, as if a surge of magic has suddenly gone from my core to my heart, filled itself with the intent of my emotions and then blasted itself into my mind, where it actually broke something I was never aware of that I had it, though my constant thinking often made me resemble an Occlumency Master.

The pain that this all causes makes the vision in front of me, of my family living room, turn vague and unclear as if I am seeing it through a fogged up window on a day where it rains and storms, yet this vagueness is suddenly replaced with something that I recognize as Ron's room, but then when it was still a nursery twelve years ago.
Realizing that I will finally discover what happened to upset my son as much as it did and what it was that I forgot all those years ago, do my eyes widen beyond comprehension as I suddenly notice how Ron's crib is way bigger than it needs to be, yet what shocks and frightens me even more is what is near the crib.

The person has the same height as Hermione Granger does right now, yet the form of the person reveals how he is obviously male and the way his shoulders are hunched easily proves to my keen eye that he is doing something highly illegal and when I see what this act of illegal activity is – do I feel my heart reaching my throat.
The man reaches into the crib and actually pulls out a little girl that has Ron's hair and face, bar his cheekbones and who's hair is much longer, while her nose is smaller. He then speaks, yet his voice is obviously charmed, further proving his dark intentions and dangers to my family and while I register his looks within me, does he say:
"There, that's the last of you brats. I don't know what it is that draws me to you seven, but at least I know of some of you that your existence can't be remembered. It will ruin everything I have worked for since that damned bint tried resisting my self-created foreteller spell. Now to finish my job here and reach your new family."
And while I can clearly feel how the man is chanting something under his breath while casting his wand at the center of the room, therefore actually strengthening his spell as that will make the whole incantation seep through all the wood that the Burrow consists of, does he then vanish and do I feel myself pulled along with him.

The man arrives at an alley that makes my own eyes widen as I remember what Harry told me of his home address and while I can barely believe that my youngest son's best friend has been living near a daughter I actually forgot about for all these years, do I want to scream like the banshee some people call me when I see the man's client.
The man is tall and lanky, yet not like my Ron as he is thinner than Harry when he returns from his yearly stays in this neighborhood and his whole body is covered in all kinds of tattoos, the man actually being shaved bald just to have tattoos shown over his shaved skull and there are actual needles stuck up his arms.
The man also has a running nose and a bit of disgusting drool hanging down his lips and while he runs his hand past his nose with a loud squelching that utterly disgusts me, does he then speak with a very country like tongue as he asks: "What?" And then gets handed my baby girl, while his so-called partner then says:

"Here she is. Remember, my partners will provide you with all your tattoo and drug money as long as you care for her and keep her at home. Capish?" Yet the kidnapper doesn't wait for an answer and turns on his heel. Still, one look at the man that has my baby tells me, if he had waited, he would have done so for a long time.
The client indeed just keeps standing, his lower lip protruding from his upper and new drool slipping out from the corner of his mouth before he looks down, moves back into the house and makes me want to absolutely scream at him and curse both him and the kidnapper into next millennia as he asks: "Eeeeh, you up for a coke?"

And so I see my daughter grow up, her father having absolutely no parental knowledge or care to gain experience for that and therefore making it so that my daughter is forced to teach herself to potty train on an adult toilet at the tender age of two and a half, alongside various other things that just make me want to cry and scream.
Yet, as I watch her grow older, do I also feel further angered at the kidnapper as he obviously charmed my daughter to lose her Weasley looks as her red hair slowly turns cherry blonde and her eyes turn from the usual baby blue to a pair of dark pink, almost red eyes, yet I also feel proud as she seems to develop an hourglass figure at young age.
And then the one thing I had hoped and prayed for while watching all this happens occurs, yet the way that it does makes me want to burst out laughing. First my daughter meets several other kids, who obviously look as mistreated as her and who make me wonder if their parents couldn't be possible clients of the kidnapper too.
Yet before I can fully register this, does a blur of black hair and green eyes actually jump my daughter, who I had already noticed has actually inherited my temper and while I look shocked at how Harry actually tries tickling my daughter at age 6 as a way of greeting, do I just laugh tears of sweet mercy as she almost roasts him in response.

I then wake from my trance, tears in my eyes, fury in my heart at the kidnapper and my mind at peace as I finally understand why I have always been so protective, why Ron has always acted like Ginny's guardian angel and why I never managed to remember what caused my son to go through such emotional pain at young age.
But then, as I register the last thing I saw in my vision yet again, do my eyes widen as I can only think of one thing: "Does – does Harry even know – that he's been friends with my daughter; my youngest son's twin sister – for several years now?" And with the need to have answers to that question, do I floo myself to Hogwarts.


WOW, I WAS NOT KIDDING!
This chapter is 15 pages and almost 11.000 words long! I knew I would have a chore with this chapter, but even I didn't expect it to take this long. Though the whole actual writing only took maybe a day or so, I am still very proud and will be very happy to continue this story and its new twist to the storyline.
YES, next chapter the file will be read, I am not about to have that skip yet another month, I want that blasted file read just as much as all of you. However, the file might just turn out to be a very small part of the actual entire chapter as all those people arriving at Hogwarts is sure to cause some events to occur, right?
I mean, two witches, two Muggles and one woman who's body is supposed to represent a vegetable all arriving at approximately the same time – plus all that Alice actually knows about the true bonds between the characters and what Rosie now knows of James and the others and their actual location – yeah, stuff is going down!
Have fun, next chapter,

Venquine1990