Vivian could hear voices in the distance. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was eating her dinner, she had just put Demetrius to bed. What had happen? Had someone drugged her? She was on the couch in someone's parlor. She sat up and almost laid back down. Was her body always this heavy? She moved towards the voices, she found a door just barely opened. She stood in the shadows trying to strain her ears to hear what they were saying.

"What are we to do with her now?" Harry asked the older witch staring out the window. Phoebe hadn't given it much thought honestly. They had successfully retrieved her daughter, but after that, aspirations hadn't been realized as of yet.

"Without her, or the baby's power she won't be able to protect herself." Ginny warned. She still felt guilty for having a hand in binding Vivian's powers from her. She was basically a muggle now.

"It will make it harder for him to track her. They will look for a magical scent when there isn't one."

"They'll figure it out eventually, won't they?" Phoebe sighed, this wasn't a time for twenty questions.

"Yes, they will. Then they will come after the ones that stripped her of her powers." She turned the group, Ginny looked pale. Harry held his wife's hand, trying to soothe her.

"I was never told that they would target us." Ginny stated quietly. Phoebe let a sarcastic laugh out.

"I told you there was risks. The more potent the magic the greater the risk. You all have been targets for many years now, it shouldn't be outside the norm."

"Now we'll have to work twice as hard to conceal more than just Harry. We've already had to turn to others for help as it is."

"I resent that." Pansy exclaimed.

"Are our services dissatisfactory? If you haven't noticed we're the only others willingly to help you anymore Potter." Blaise retorted.

"Don't twist my words." Harry put his hands up, trying to diffuse the tension in the room. "We are glad for the support. But if at any point I would have thought I would ever turn to former Deatheaters for help, I would have thought I was going mad."

"Maybe you are." Harry just shook his head and stared down at the floor. Phoebe just wanted to scream, they were squabbling like school children. Human emotions were still a struggle for her to understand. She had been numb for so long it was hard to understand anything that wasn't anger.

"Knock it OFF!" She shouted, silence loomed. She smirked, she could command a presence after all this time. "You all are grown adults. Most of you are well into your forties and you act as if your teenagers. Well guess what? You're not. We need to make some important decisions here today, and bickering over petty things or bringing up old rivalries will bring us nowhere. If anyone has any ideas to move on from here, speak now."

Voldemort knew he should have listened to the whispers. He had thought better of this reputation, everyone in the world should understand what happens when you take from the dark lord, the bloody source. The fields will be set ablaze, buildings will crumble, the air thick with smog and the smell of burning flesh. The sky will rain blood when he was through with the traitors and bystanders alike.

"Daddy?" Squeaked out a little voice.

"My lord." He corrected. Voldemort had almost forgotten in his rage, his son was still with him. He turned to see his son reaching for him. He pushed him aside, he wasn't going to satisfy the boy's wants for attention. He needed the space he needed to figure his next plan of action.

He stopped in his tracks, that hellish screeching was too much. He sent a silencing curse at the boy, curtailing the tantrum. The boy was more surprised than anything, it almost made Voldemort laugh. Almost. Vivian had always been against punishing the boy with magic, but she wasn't around. He'll do whatever he damn well please with his son. She was all about teaching him different skills, mostly useless in his opinion. "Come along Demetrius." One of his demonic constituents had appeared in the doorway.

"My lord?" He bit back his anger. He had been waiting for a report since the night before.

"Yes?" Voldemort had no problem showing his impatience.

"We've lost them my lord and we…"

"What?!" The servant gulped.

"We think either they were relieved of life or magic." In his rage he had slit the throat of the nervous messenger.

"HOW DARE THEY!" Voldemort roared, blasting all corners of the room. They had taken almost everything from him. How was he supposed to ensure his life if they possible could relieve them of their bonds? The silence was maddening. Voldemort heard a glass clink, he quickly turned ready to curse the source of the noise. He watched his toddler son sloppily scoop some of the split blood into a dish. His attention was instantly turned elsewhere. What was his son doing? He approached his father, clutching the dish in his small hands.

This oddity had admittedly piqued his curiosity, he watched his son walk towards a broom closet, whispering something he barely understood himself. Was it a demon language, Latin possibly? A door had appeared, one Voldemort himself wasn't too familiar with. Where had he…Yes, yes! He had seen Vivian summon the door previously during his lessons. He had never paid any mind previously, but now, where did this door lead to?

The room was lined with shelves, which were filled with vials of blood. There was an altar at the center of the room, he observed his son clambering around trying to find somewhere to store the blood. He placed the tray under a stand and pointed to the book above. He carefully touched the book, it wasn't cursed or enchanted. It looked old, it was designed a lot like the Grimoire. He narrowed his eyes at the boy, he was pulling on his robes. He gazed followed the boy's outstretched finger, handwritten papers was tucked between the pages. It was in Vivian's handwriting, Voldemort flipped the pages over, and it looked to be instructions? Instructions of binding blood magic? Ahh…blood magic, was a realm that he himself wasn't too inept with. Never had interested him until now, an oath binding, curses and blood tracking. The options now looked limitless. He smirked at the young boy, "You have done well."

Those bastards. They stole her powers, and her baby's magic. They took it all from her. Vivian clenched her fists as she felt the rage bubble below the surface. They made plans to steal her away, take her magic and then they were debating what to do with her. As if she couldn't make her own decision. She should be able to find her own way, all she had to do is find Demetrius and she would just sneak out before they realized. If tracing her would be as hard as they spoke, she could leave and they wouldn't be able to find her. After a while she would learn of new capabilities in this magic less form and go on to get back at everyone who had a hand in this peril.

"My lady." Vivian winced, how long someone had been watching her spying on the group in the other room.

"Malfoy?" Surprise overtook her when she turned to see one of her husband's many henchmen, or so she thought?

"Sleep well?" She could see the fatigue in his face.

"Better than you I suppose."

"A good night's rest is hard to come by these days, a rarity really."

"Yes, yes it is," Vivian waited a while in silence before the desire to know became too strong. "How long Malfoy?"

"From the moment I brought you to him. No one should suffer the fate you have. My hand being in that mix has guilt me for so long."

"Are you the only one?"

"No."

"Good." Vivian was satisfied that her husband's so called supporters were turning against him. He was losing the power he tried so hard to claim. Her father held his crown for many years before the tide began to change, Voldemort couldn't maintain control.

"Where's my son? We need to leave here. We need to disappear." Vivian watched Malfoy's body tense, which in turn Vivian's familiar greeting instantly sour. "WHERE. IS. MY. SON?" In her anger her voice took an icy tone, one she had not personally revealed to anyone other than Voldemort in her rage. Force muggle life wasn't going to stop her from gaining answers.

"That is something you need to discuss with them."

"THEM?" Vivian had an iron grip on the front of Malfoy's robes, if only he could shrink away from this confrontation. Despite her being as powerful as a lowly muggle, she could still frighten Malfoy. He had been trained his entire life to fear what the dark lord could do to his family, but he never was prepared for the wrath of his woman. Their entitlement and anger mirrored each other, Draco just had to remember the fact that she was powerless behind her threats.

"Let's go and talk to them, calmly." Suddenly Malfoy dropped to the floor in pain. She had done something to him. Vivian seethed at Malfoy as he hit the floor. She had put all her might into her fingertips, she had dug into a pressure point. And cold cocked him as his knees gave out from the pain. She may be pregnant and she may be powerless, but that didn't make her fragile or weak.

She wrapped her hand in his hair, whispered into his bruised face, "Take me to them NOW." Draco spit blood on the carpet below him and he swallowed what little pride down, he had never wanted to strike a woman as badly as he wanted at that very moment. He had to hold onto the fact that this wasn't about him, this woman, his junior by more than twenty years, had a role in the fate of free world, muggle and wizard alike.

"Follow me." He mumbled, his mouth still stinging. Vivian wanted to smirk finally given her way, but she was nervous. For what she wasn't entirely certain. It could be for her son, for her fate or for the identity of her liberators. Were they truly enough to conceal her from Voldemort?

"About time Malfoy, we were just…" The room fell silent. The redheaded man sat back down, Vivian's menacing gaze had silenced them all.

"Who is in charge here?" Phoebe stared at her daughter, surprised by her sudden appearance. It was too soon, they hadn't figured out the details yet. "Damn it, I said who is in charge!" Harry stood up, releasing his wife's desperate hold.

"I am. If you want answers, you will sit down and hear us out." Vivian was going to pipe in, but Harry held a warning finger. "Then and only then will we answer your questions."

"Fine." Vivian snarled taking a seat for herself, her back was aching in pain, as well as the arches of her feet. Her rage had disguised her own exhaustion from her, she had never felt such fatigue as she did right now. Harry and his wife stole a look from the girl's mother, who had immersed herself in the safety of the shadows, she kept her presence arguably quiet. Harry sighed, recounting the events leading up to that very moment.

"Do you have any questions for us?" Harry quietly asked the pregnant woman before him. He could see she was trying to process all the information they had given her, all well trying to keep an emotionless façade. Her composure was slipping, tears piqued the corners of her eyes. She only had one question, just one.

"Where is my son? Where is Demetrius?" Vivian watched as their eyes darted behind her, with pleading looks.

"Phoebe do you care to explain this to her," Harry cautiously asked. Vivian turned, releasing a small sob.

"Mother?" Phoebe wanted to hold her daughter, but she knew she had to put up as strong front. As much as it hurt her to be the cause of her daughter's distress, she couldn't change what happened.

"I'm sorry Vivian, we weren't able to locate the boy in time." Phoebe tried to put a comforting hand on her daughter, for support. She slapped it away, storming from the room.

"I HATE YOU!"

Phoebe sighed, "I'll talk to her." She followed her angry daughter's exit. Phoebe found her curdled on the sofa they had laid her on earlier.

"How could you do this?" Vivian bit back a cry. She hurt, her heart hurt.

Phoebe held her daughter close, moving the loose pieces of hair from her face, "We tried darling. We didn't have a chance to take your son from him."

"You didn't have a chance to save your own grandson?" Vivian whimpered. "He's just a child, alone to deal with that monster."

"We tried what we could, but we only had time to take you." Phoebe pulled her pregnant daughter close, letting her tears fall onto her blouse. She couldn't let her know the truth, know the real reason for the boy's absence. Eventually the pain would pass, and she would overcome the anger. For now, she couldn't know, and hopefully never know.

"I'm afraid for him. I don't know if I can do this without him mother. A boy needs his mother." Phoebe directed Vivian to another seat, summoning a box of tissue.

"I have something for you." She turned digging into her bag, Vivian had paused almost confused. She watched her pull an envelope and set it front of her, her name elegantly scrolled on the front of the letter.

"What is that?"

"From your father." Vivian sucked in her breath, he had left her a message? Her mother had kept a letter addressed to her, for two years?

"What does it say?"

"Do you want me to read it, or?"

"I doubt I could see clear enough now to even try."

"Ok." Phoebe took a deep breath, what she was about to say was some heavy ladled words.

Vivian,

It truly saddens me to have to write this. Hopefully you are in a place of comfort before reading further. No words can express the guilt that has plagued me since your return. We had done this to you, more specifically I had done this to you and your mother. I do not have much time, but I wanted to let you know, that are much loved and will always hold a light in my dark heart. I want to apologize for failing you, as your father, as your protector. We thought we were doing what was best for you, which we all know the consequences of our mistakes. I wish things were different, but don't dwell on it. Forget, forget the wrongs and push forward, take care of your baby, better than we treated you.

Sincerely,

Cole

Neither Phoebe nor Vivian said anything. Her father had spent his last moments alone, wishing he had done better for his daughter, better for his family. Phoebe hadn't dare to read her daughter's note, she remembered how Cole's news for her destroyed her completely. She didn't want to have to anticipate Vivian's heartbroken reaction. She would just be there to maybe mend the pieces. To give her a piece of mind that Phoebe had developed over time. Time healed all wounds, but not always soothed them. There was always scars left in their wake.

"I want to forget." Vivian mumbled in the silence.

"What?" Phoebe asked out loud, hoping she had heard her wrong.

"Make me forget. I want to forget everything."

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't I? I don't want to be in a world without my son. I want to forget!"

"I promise, Vivian," Vivian cut her mother off.

"Please do this. I don't want to live with this grief any moment longer." Harry had approached the pair, raising his wand. Phoebe stared in terror, he couldn't!

"No, NO!" Phoebe stood up frantically shaking her hands, "I need more time."

"Please, please do it." Vivian begged. Harry shook his head, this was the right thing to do.

"Oblivate." Vivian passed out, her reaction to the spell surprised Harry.

"Why would you do that?!" Phoebe shriek, bordering between shock and anger. "She had that done to her so many times I don't know if there will be problems!"

"You know it was better this way." Harry walked away, leaving Phoebe to grieve over her daughter's lost memories.

**** And my dears, that's where I'm going to end it for now. Read next for the teaser.