A Talented Squib

by BetweenTheSeaAndStars

In the future a new Dark Lord rises. Melpomene is a Squib with Talent's, which they have learned 200 years in the future is a way squibs have very specific if often useless magic. She becomes a tool by the portrait of Albus to be sent back in time, and now her use fulfilled must adapt to a world that sees her as Less Than with no direction. Freedom can be scary when it's new.

1. Chapter 1

AN:

I blame the fact I've read over 13 Harry Potter fanfictions this week when I was too sick to type. Dang it. Anyways decided to mess with the whole time travel part. Carapace Chapter 2 is almost done, Ghost And the Obviously Crazy Child 9 is getting really long and I haven't figured out where to end the current chapter, it's over 11 pages already and going so at least I'm not slacking.

I've not decided how far back this shall go yet, feel free to review or PM me with opinions. General HP, Mauraders era..what do you wish to see? Curious...

()()()()()()

The wars did not end with Voldemort.

They Began.

Twenty years later everyone was complacent after the Boy-who-lived-again had settled in, his family had even gotten through Hogwarts for the most part. Everything seemed to be going well. Until the Dark Lord over the Water in the United States acted up and since that one had grown up in the muggle world during the era of computers and rapid technology actually took over and swept in while the various countries were up in arms over different terrorist groups around the world paired with natural disasters. What was one or two more seeming horrible events that couldn't be explained during that time?

It turned out the Dark Lord Faust had gotten his education half in Beauxbaton's summer program and half in the States own school in Salem. Now most every school outside the one in Brazil could claim they'd spawned a Dark Lord and Brazil really wasn't that sort of early schooling system.

He'd used the clever muggle system to spread out his followers and 'force' acclimatization. An utterly ruthless abolishment of blood purity standards, the introduction of Dark Arts as just being another form of magic and the truly heinous spells being the Blackest of Arte's now as they were formally called and heavily controlled by only the highest of medical and research staff for 'The public's protection'. Introduction of many 'Pagan Holiday's' that were entirely out of place as traditionally such worship and holidays were tied to the land of the place. Celtic holidays had no business being on American soil, those lands had numerous native traditions and while the blood of those people may call for observation of their own ancestor worship it didn't fit otherwise. Especially in countries which were perhaps more Norse, or Mayan, or the many hundreds of other cultures that existed out there. Squib's were forced into breeding programs to try and bring back the 'lost lines', dangerous creatures were given equal rights and it soon became non politically correct to begrudge them. The entire thing was a dream on the surface.

Sadly, like almost all social economic reforms what should have made sense and been for the 'greater good' was highly corrupt and self serving. Not all of the creatures were good after all. Most werewolves were foul and twisted, vicious and bloodthirsty. Most vampires saw humans only as cattle and the obsession that had spawned in the nineties of the 'beautiful beaux' style vampire had only made their work easier. Centaurs were wise and tied up in their prophecies but they also tended to lose control of their tempers and much like their ancient Greek an Roman ancestors, rape and slaughter at will. The lists went on forever.

Several new unforgivables were formed, numerous laws passed and right under the Muggle's noses the latest Wizarding War came in on a whisper everyone welcomed without seeing the danger. It had been an extremely sensible seeming and joyful start. What the reality became was a magically twisted version of the classic 1984 novel only focused on magicals. In the end it took little to entirely wipe out the muggles save for the promising minds who would be used for fresh 'blood' in breeding. There were more of them, but EMP's had long been tested as a viable threat to most societies. Growing up Muggle it was easy for Lord Faust Jones (and unlike many he had no shame about his name and origins but Lord Jones didn't sound right to the populace) to simply slam enchantment's in large numbers down on key areas around the countries to obliterate the electrical grid. Everyone was so dependent on technology that it made taking over simple. Most people didn't know how to get by without electricity, cars (as most had microchips or computers running things since the early 2000's) , food transport. The list went on.

Local government couldn't even contact it's people.

A few well prepared groups managed, but in time they were all tracked down and either put into slave camps or assimilated. After one hundred years people didn't even really remember 'before'.

Squibs were highly prized, in a disturbing twist of fate. They couldn't actually use proper magic to be a threat but they could brew potions, utilize magic artifacts where muggles couldn't. They carried magic in their genes and when matched with a better bloodline produced the most astoundingly powerful wizards and witches. In time it became realized Squibs accessed a different type of Magic and it was referred to as a Talent which was always passed on if the offspring was also a squib but lost otherwise. A good squib became like a Veyron car in the old days, exquisite performance tools of only the utmost luxury. Even pathetic twisted squibs were worth entire family fortunes and any family that found themselves with one could turn them over to the Dark Empire's Enforcer's and receive acclaim and wealth. Squibs that had Talent and procreated with another Talented would not have a new Talent but rather the Talents of both parents in turn, and sometimes lesser talents. There were entire groups set up to match Squibs and their Talents to try and breed new Talents.

This was the world I was born in.

It was hell.

If you didn't guess, I'm a squib. I have the supreme misfortune of being born to two squib parents who are both beautiful and Highly talented. An entire lineage that goes back to before the 'Enlightened Period'. My father is a blacksmith, my mother is a potions expert. Not a Mistress of course, because she can't brew the ones that do require magic assimilation assistance or spells added to them in brewing. My father's weapons are sympathetic to the core of a magic user and many choose them these days over a wand. Both of my parents are personally contracted and owned by the Dark Lord Faust's left hand. That's the hand no one acknowledges exists publicly.

It's a bad thing.

This means from birth I was raised in the Dark Court. I am a squib and I know this, but as some day I will either be matched to another squib of Talent (we call it that since we aren't magical but we have specific skills) or a Wizard of a bloodline that needs an influx...well, I wish I could say I'd been ignored.

Both my parents are gorgeous. My father is over six feet, muscular, chiseled features with dark blonde hair and blue eyes. My mother is barely five and a half feet and though she's built more like a tomboy she's a face that were she non magical in the old days would have landed her on magazine covers. They made me.

I'm happiest either with books on history or mythology from old or paints, one feeds the other. What I learn turns into my art and my art is my base. Base talent is always clumsy and awkward and not considered a very good Talent but it's what we do to think. I can trap stories and memories and emotions in my sketches and paintings that later on just need a simple influx of magic to become enchanted. My grandparents used this. My father uses it to help sketch out new smithing ideas before he starts and my mother to plan her potions. It's actually a very common Base though more common is using words to think. My parents have been teaching me both their Talent's since I was able to hold my head up and while I haven't' the muscle for my father's craft if I wasn't Talented I can still hammer and shape knives and jewelry. I prefer pour molding, and where he works with metals I prefer stones and glass when I craft, or simple wood as it keeps me from revealing my depth of skill. Attention isn't good after all, and I often hide the expanse of my Talent even from my family... I like sharp pointy objects though so I love learning to fold the metal. It's when my Squib magic Talent I got from him comes into play. Metal wants to move for me, it wants to twist and bend and obey. I don't need muscle to shape it. Just lots of fire and time and the right materials. We keep that quiet though because it's a high level of Talent that isn't normal.

And my Sire has no idea how much further I hide from him.

My parent's don't really want to let that be found out. Especially because I also got mother's.

Yes. Magic Talents from both. It runs in the blood now, I have the family Base from both sides, and I've been experimenting with mixing potions and smithing. Most squibs have a few talents these days, even Metamorphagus is considered a Talent since enough Squibs have it but can't cast spells. All Squibs of good breeding have at least a score of Talent's these days but we don't think about most. The important ones are either the Rare or the High talent's. Those get you matched and observed.

My Base is pretty high though, to the point that even if I can't paint photorealism (that means I can't do portraits) I'm kept busy enough creating stories about our "Saviour Faust'' for the little ones. I hate it.

The only blessing is I'm often sent to travel to many locations, to sketch places and be told stories of the "Great Lord and Saviour of All Majick Faust'' to put into stories. There are sadly, at least a dozen to two dozen of us that do this. Even the muggle's have children raised on this now. Pretty moving picture books that tell of his grand deeds to bring magic to the magicless and modern political correctness and social reform to the barbaric lost in time magic world. Every muggle hopes to be found a long lost squib or muggleborn or have the potential to be chosen for their minds to mingle with the magicals. No one ever wonders about how Faust may have really come to power.

1984. Seriously.

The very fact I've read that book and own a copy by the way, even in an era where most things are electronic as they found a way around magic impeding it..is a death sentence.

I read it regularly. It's missing pages, it's still priceless. Without that book, I may have never started to think. I may have never began to wonder. I may have just accepted my number and Ranking and abandoned any hope of individuality after puberty. That was the usual. I can't tell you my parent's names because they didn't have them. They called each other pet names or usually "3920b" and "3082p". How's that for romantic? I called them Parental Units or Egg Donor or Sperm Donor, or Dam and Sire. Mother, father, all those terms were considered to be..non politically correct. You can have a partner of the same gender and not be judged unless they wish you for breeding. Even then two matched couples can form if you have a kind overseer of your matching and often double partnerships and raising of the spawn occurs. My situation was like that once. My Dam and my Dam2 were in love. My Sire and Dam2's Match were both like my Sire's, and I grew up content with my cousins. We had similar lesser and Base Talent's. Neither of my Sire's were drawn to the other but they apparently were hardly upset that the Dam's were...my eldest cousin would laugh and say it wasn't anything to think too hard on, while being bright red.

They were all killed.

They tried to flee.

My Sire and My Dam never spoke of them. I found another Talent that day, as I watched the public execution (they were always public, always mandatory to attend..I had seen too many..) It struck me again, not for the first time how despite being so highly valued they were just killed off en masse and disposed of like trash rather then a luxury.

Squibs may be the shiny toy, but we had no real value as people.

It was as I watched my older ''cousin'' whom I sometimes daydreamed of being matched with, all brown tousled hair and serious eyes and smiles..as he had the injection punched into his spinal cord and just slumped, as if asleep see how merciful to those who shun his greatness the orders of Great Saviour of the Dark Lord Faust's rule is? Instantly dead. It was so..anticlimatic. So peaceful. So easy to just accept as it was almost bloodless and indeed seemingly merciful.

It wasn't.

I knew because my Dam had shown me how to make the concoction. It would eat at them, destroy them from the inside but be a paralytic and freeze them from moving or making a sound. They'd suffer for hours.

That was when my other thought snapped into place. When my heart broke knowing it may have even been my own Dam or Me that made the injection torturing my family.

My heart broke.

My mouth opened, and something else poured forth. I didn't know the words and I didn't care, my New Talent rushed forward and the most heart breaking song of loss came out. Those around me fell silent, my voice was untrained, I'd never been able to carry a tune or even halfway hit the correct pitch before. At this moment though I was Melpomene, I was the muse of tragedy. She fell through my veins and burned my soul. Tears fell from my eyes but as my words were making no sense, in no language tongues I was speaking no, singing in tongues! It didn't matter. I would not be felled for this. The tones were pure and drew gasps and awe around me as my Talent manifested, potent and viscous and tangible to all of us.

As no one knew what I sang, and the fact they were moved to tears could just as well be interpreted as devotion to the Great Saviour, I was praised rather then sent to join my family.

After all any occasion that would bring about a New Talent in a blood line was a good one as far as our government was concerned. I was 4098u. In my heart though, ever after, I was Melpomene. I remembered in my readings of the great Greek Mythos she had once been only the muse of singing and became the muse of Tragedy. It was the opposite though, my Tragedy brought forth my singing.

It didn't take long until I was exploring the museums usually kept only to the most elite of Wizarding society with the blessing of my..Patron and Owner, because the best way to nourish a Talent was to feed it. With any Talent that manifested of the Arts, one needed to immerse into the Arts. I'd been given food charms and a blanket as well as writing supplies and told to return to the front gate if I needed anything or I would be fetched in a month, and after I had best be inspired as I would be presented to the Great Saviour to amuse him with my voice.

Apparently though there were singing Talent's, there were no others like mine that had forced those around me to be emotionally moved to tears.

Having an entirely new Talent was a terrifying thrust into the spotlight I had never wanted.

A few days into my exploration I came to the portraits. Ancient, almost 200 years old, these paintings had been last seen by so few who were currently alive even when placed in the museum originally.

"Hello there, my dear girl.."

I found no words. The magic in this portrait poured and undulated. It was joyful, solemn, serious, regretful. I felt this painting. There was a phoenix that glittered in and out of the frame at times, or so I assumed the flicker of fire was. I knew this man, we all did. Stories of the Great Ones were still shared after all, the Great Ones were dead and no threat to the Great Saviour. I sat on the floor by the portrait, curled up in my simple but warm gray uniform blanket.

"...Hello.." My voice was filled with awe and I just blinked, so many times. "Albus Dumbledore..the great redeemer.."

"Oh, is that what I am known by now?" Albus blinked at me in surprise. "Redeemer?"

"Yes, of course. You were why Grindlewald showed loyalty in the end against Voldemort and didn't betray you..you were whom guided the great Order of the Phoenix and Harry Potter..you had a hand in helping so many.."

"I..failed..many too my dear.." Albus whispered. "I am just a man, I was at least, and I had faults..sometimes I forgot people were people with their own precious lives and hearts..though I tried to remember.."

"My..grandparents had grandparents who used to quote an old television series..The needs of the Many outweigh the needs of the one.."

"It's a horrible choice still.."

"And all the greater the one who can make it and weep for it."

Albus paused, he looked at me and I swear though it was just an enchanted portrait I felt every inch of the power there. The rich heady taste of magic all around me..

"Who are you dear girl?"

"40.."

"no. No.." Albus sighed, cutting off my reciting of my name and rank. U. I was young and Unmatched after all. "Your name."

"we don't use them for Squibs.."

Albus looked stunned as he looked at me. "Dear girl I can feel and see the magic about you.."

"Oh that. That's just my Talents."

"Talents?"

"Squibs have access to our magic in a different way, Great One. We can't use wands or cast spells but we have Talents. Usually they pass on to our children if we Match with another squib. If we are Matched to a Wizard it generally produces much more powerful children or reawakens talents in their bloodline, but the Squib talent's aren't passed on. We're considered like..the Abraxan's or similar prized animals in your day."

Albus frowned and gave a faint shiver, visibly upset. "And ..you are married then?" I had the feeling from how he said it that he'd gleaned far more then I told him.

"Of course not, we're just Squibs. A few may become mistress or lover on the side for procreational purposes but true marriage is only for Muggle to Muggle or Wizard and Witch..though they'll pair off their own gender if there's a Squib for the magical's to procreate with and they desire to.."

"You.."

"I don't like it.." I don't know why I said it, but my confession came out in a soft painful whisper. Albus met my eyes, his own light blue to mine, his twinkling softly.

"What are your..talents..dear girl?"

"My family Base Talent is to draw and paint things, if someone with magic activates it then it works like a clumsy version of your portrait..a lot more can be stored and shown than with a regular magical drawing. Usually we use these to illustrate points or stories. My Sire's talent is in forging weapons and some he's taught to me.." I fidgeted, something about his eyes made me confess. "I'm better then I let even my Sire know..the metal wants to do what I want it to..I can feel it. Sometimes it folds in my hands like putty.."

"..Incredible..." Albus blinked and then nodded, smiling fondly. "Go on..is there more?"

"Ah, my Dam's talent is in potions..she's taught me. We're good enough for not being able to enchant or stasis or adjust the temperature of our cauldrons..we have so many potions we can't make but we've figured out for Squibs lots of ways since you've been gone to heal with potions that you didn't have..especially for children of magicals who can't risk their cores by taking too many of the higher level potions. My Dam and I came up with a potion that helps draw out ones talents too..Um, I think that's why I have more then the usual. I was the test subject after all."

"Usual?"

"Family Base talent's if they're the same pass on as do the parent talent's. Sometimes one or two other lesser talents pass on. It's part of why Squib Matching is such a big deal. I have the Base of Art, Crafting Weapons, Crafting Potions..and um.I think..singing.."

"What do you mean, you think?"

I paused, then thought carefully on my fear, my hopelessness, my concern. Unsure if it would work again I opened my mouth and felt myself becoming Melpomene again. The notes made no sense, they didn't need to. My voice was an instrument that had no words, just notes and tones in richness and emotion that made my eyes close and my spine straighten. The spiraling and twisting of my song started to overtake me and the pure sweet euphoria of the song became the focus. Melpomene shed her shackles, her stone encasement and regained her ancient status. Tragedy flowed into pure music and grace.

My notes were matched.

All of a sudden something was on my shoulder, a solid comfortable weight and my notes and cries were matched perfectly. The song twisted and folded around the new voice, clearer and sharper, higher, richer than my own. Melpomene burst out in joy and taunted and challenged him. I was the muse of song, the sister of poetry and art, of history and all that had been in that moment as I lost myself to the song.

When it died the pressure on my shoulder shifted and moved to my knee. As my eyes opened I gasped.

There was a phoenix on my knee...

On. My knee.

A Phoenix.

The last one hadn't been sighted in almost 150 years..

"Fawkes.." Albus whispered.

A trill was his answer and I did the only thing I could.

Yes darn it, I fainted.

()()()()()

I spent a lot of time with Albus Dumbledore. His phoenix was amazing company and between the two of them I found myself wishing for a better world. There was a lot of heavily philosophical talks with a number of other portraits whom would visit him and the one called Flamel in particular gave a lot of information.

It turned out there had been warning signs and things that should have triggered fail safes put up to prevent another dark lord taking over. It had probably happened too gradually. Much of the conversation went over my head but I did manage to grasp that something in the timeline was wrong, very much so.

"I only have another few days.." I whispered one night, curled up in my little nest I'd made of my over coat and blanket, the beautiful Phoenix often keeping me company and warm.

"What do you mean, Mel?" Ah, yes, Albus Dumbledore had heard my shy ramblings about how I saw myself as Melpomene and had twinkled at me before promptly using that, or the sweet Mel every time we talked. It was as if he wished me to forget I was a nobody, just a New Talented Squib who had yet to be matched.

"My month is almost up."

"...I confess, I had forgotten of that.." Dumbledore sounded so regretful, though I didn't doubt for a moment he had remained aware. Nothing got by this man's portrait, and if this was just a shallow echo of the one he had been then no wonder he had made Terrible Mistakes as he always emphasized, I could feel the capitalization of the words when he said them in that tremulous voice with his eyes distant. I imagine it was like my cousins. They're parents had taken the risk, my Dam2 and Sire2 to flee with their children rather then have them ...Focused.. it was such a terrifying thing. Just the idea made me tremble and I heard Fawkes soft worried croon.

Gulping several times, I knew I was shaking and having a panic attack. It didn't matter, I had so carefully not thought of the word or the idea.

"Melpomene!" Albus snapped out sharply, he'd found that I responded best to being talked to straightforward rather then coy games and tones. I think for some reason, he was relieved by that.

"S..sorry..I just.."

"Take a deep breath my girl, and another. Good, good. Now..what has you so panicked?"

I felt my lungs chill and my whole body shudder. Leaning into the solid warmth of Fawkes he took his cue and began a soft low melody that all but forced my body to ease. Looking up into the twinkling blue eyes as the Headmaster set aside his spectacles to gaze at me I felt a slight lightening of my heart that had nothing to do with the ethereal music. If anyone could understand, and offer solution or sympathy, it was the Great Redeemer. More, the man who faced his demons and faults that resided behind, lingering in paint and magic on canvas here with a little squib girl not even into her mid teens yet.

"There's..have you heard of ..from the other portraits.." I paused and closed my eyes. I wasn't searching for courage I was hoping for advice. "..when a Squib is Focused?"

There was a long heavy silence. The portraits around, I had later learned all from the century that Albus Dumbledore was, seemed to still in fright. Dumbledore for once, seemed clueless and looked from portrait to portrait. "I fear that I do not, and from my once colleagues utter and complete lack of sound..I do not like the sound of this. Will you fill me in child, or should I ask one of them?"

"They cannot speak of it, Albus." The voice was rich and low, melodic and seductive. I am not sure where Lord Fausts' minions had located the treasure but it was the height of irony that he was included in the selection of the Second Wizarding War room of the museum. Gellert Grindelwald.

"Hallo, Grindlewald."

Gellert glanced down and gave me an amused smile, apparently I didn't annoy him very much (Albus had laughed that from him that was high praise) and he had been rather fascinated with the information on Squibs and their Talent's I had provided. As it was such a direct contrast to so many of his own theories he had often picked my brain rather ruthlessly before he would wander off. I wasn't exactly surprised they didn't have the charm to prevent his explorations on his portrait as they did so many others. Indeed, I surmised I could seek out the other Dark Lord's, Gellert had flippantly remarked they all had portraits and were even having some highly amusing debates at times. For obvious reasons I was far too scared to do so.

"Ja, Vögelchen?'' Little bird. It was his nickname for me referencing when I first sang. This man was incredibly charming and dangerous, I did love watching Albus shake his head or roll his eyes fondly. It was clear that the man behind the myth of Albus Dumbledore really had loved Gellert, and though I think the former Dark Lord of Durmstang as we called him now, was fond in return in his own way. It just was that for Gellert, his goals and power had come first.

"You know then?"

There was a huff and a flicker of his hand, careful controlled elegance that drew your attention. ''Of course I know! Some of us can wander, much as Faust gloats he leaves his predecessors freedom to roam and we are fully aware of the implementaitons he has made. He likes to brag about how none of us ever realized that Squibs were useful. Upstart." He began to mutter then in annoyed German and from the blinking Albus was doing, and I think a blush, it was pretty colorful.

''Oh.''

Gellert paused then, his eyes snapping towards me. I think that I was brave enough to ask him questions, and that even at my young age being a Squib born to two Highly Talented, raised in the Dark Court, I was mentally far older then my years. The only recourse from the Court's dull restrictive socializing was studies after all.

''You, think they shall Focus you?'' It was phrased as a question but Gellert hummed, steepling his fingers together and leaning back in his ornate chair he'd apparently 'magicked' into being in Albus's frame. That it was a thing of dark luxurious beauty that far outstripped Albus's, didn't seem to do more then make his Light counterpart twinkle in amusement. Nothing the former Dark Lord did was on accident so while he made it seem a question it was a statement. ''Your voice, Vögelchen, is wondrous. Not unlike your sparkling turkey companion there.'' Fawkes didn't even bristle, it was Gellert's way to show affection for Albus and Fawkes in thin insults. I think he still couldn't admit he had such a weakness as affection, and with the familiar bond so strong in the legendary Order leader and it's namesake, caring for one naturally meant you cared for both.

''It's unique." I knew I sounded like I was despairing when I said that, but I had good reason.

„"Humor an old man..Focused, Gellert?" Albus asked so softly and looked at his once opponent and ally, his in truth staunchest and most loyal of companions to the end and Gellert cut his dark eyes over to him. Eyes sharp he sighed.

''Even now you must know everything, hm Albus? Very well. To Focus a Talent in squibs referrs to corrupting and twisting their magic so that only a singular talent remains. It makes it more focused and refined, hence the phrase. It dulls the others or outright obliterates them. It is how they breed specific talents even if they crop up regularly. I'm told it's often..very painful.''

''It's why my...cousins..tried to flee..'' my voice came out soft, shaking. ''It ..I saw them..injected. I may have even brewed it with my Dam..'' I heard a muttered curse going around from all the portraits. ''It's what made my voice..um..the talent wake up. I just..''

''I have found..'' Gellert said slowly, not the sort to comfort but definitely the sort to give advice when it suited him. ''That all those who followed after me, and whom I learned from..'' Other Dark Lord's then. ''A single specific use weapon is a dramatic and delightful thing, if highly impractical. You are..fair, at your High Talent's?''

''I'm..I kept most of my skill hidden. I'm mother's level at my age with potions. I make them best by instinct rather then a recipe like most of us Squibs who don't have proper magic to imbue. My metal work though..I have only ever shown half my skill..''

Gellert's eyes and Albus were both sharp now as they stared at me. Two incredible powerful Wizards who had almost made all of Europe their chess match had their undivided attention focused on my slim form. This was only a fraction of who they had been. Great stars but their attention and the mere mimicry of their former power when combined made something in me tremble. Had they ever stayed together as a force,my world now would doubtless not exist. Nothing would have stood against them.

''Show me, now.'' Gellert's voice was a dark order, fire warmed velvet over iron. I didn't hesitate and took out my raw supplies from a bag specifically rune made just for me. All Talented had one, so they could keep their supplies on them at all times. It would actually fuse to my skin as a series of runes but I hated to do that. My markings already present that ensured I stayed a squib and declared my name and current ranking already did that.

I licked my dry lips but took out iron, it was ugly and raw, just a twisted series of badly made items that I got. I preferred scraps. They were stubborn and hadn't done what someone else wanted, so playing with them always made me smile as if I won some arguement.

I pushed my finger against the iron, feeling the comfortable warmth of my Talent manifest. It covered me like a warm blanket against my skin, a soft cool breeze that played along my soul. I felt my throat moving as I hummed, a new unavoidable and undesireable side effect to my singing. The metal moved. I soaked it, saturated utterly in my Talent, my magic and my core that permated it so that with twists and stretching, smoothing of my fingers and careful nudging with no more then my nails it began. My thoughts and will directed the shaping but my hands crafted and played as an instrument. Soft whispering song began to slip away from my lips and it couldn't be helped. I loved working with metal and it showed.

Slowly the euphoria faded, and the last note died off as my hands held up to Albus and Gellert, unintentionally like an offering to the Light and Dark Lord of times past. There was no sound, save for Fawkes fidgeting and my breathing.

And cupped in my hands, what was once iron, was now highly polished metal though it remained a deep blackened iron from the misfire mistake that had once made it a scrap, a dark rendition of fawkes in flight, beak opened in song. Intricate to the last feather.

''I'm..flattered..'' Gellert of course saw what I had done. I purposefully chose a dark metal to create what was long thought of as Albus's symbol.

''It's a pity we can't bring it in with us..'' Albus smiled at me fondly. I think he also appreciated the symbolism. To me, they just always were told as a part of the other. I set it down infront of their frames and smiled.

''It's ...a powerful skill. And you sang, Vögelchen. You sang when doing it. This you must do when you are presented. You show that at least it is the two that go together, you find a way to mention your potions can help treat and form better the metal ideas you have. You mention you needto sketch to first plan your ideas. They will not Focus when it is in the blending of your Artes that I think is your destiny..'' Gellert was a passionate man, and above all he loved power and magic and I was showing him reverence with what smatterings I had of mine. He nodded then, and leaned back, done with me. Instead he started to talk about something else with Albus, in German, clearly baiting him. He'd given a lowly squib advice from one Dark Lord to how he'd percieved another.

I left the statue and went to wander in another room.

It was probably a good thing that the living Gellert would have ignored or killed me, because I could completely see his appeal. And unlike the famed 'Voldemort' he had not lost his intelligence or sanity, but I hoped partly, that being around Albus and Gellert for a month would have helped me resist the famed charisma of Lord Faust.

()()()()()

''You leave, tomorrow.'' Albus regarded me, helping Fawkes with his feathers and grooming him best I could on his back with my fingers. I just nodded. After a short time Albus continued. ''You will of course, never return. Not with such gifts. They'll likely send you to other places and museums..oh don't frown dear girl..'' Albus trailed off and stayed silent a long time in thought before he sighed. ''You are..close to anyone?''

''Only to those in this room..and Gellert if he's off visiting..''

''Well I am Glad you think of me.'' Gellert chuckled from his own portrait, he'd long since stopped snapping at me for using his name so familiarly.

''My dear, I am in ..two other rooms.'' Albus began softly. ''In the collection of Wizarding Heros and the Third War room..in both, there is someone I wronged.''

''Two people, Albus.''

''One didn't make it into the Hero room, Gellert.''

Gellert shrugged, going back to playing with his hair. He was a rediculously vain man.

''You wish me to go?'' I tilted my head at Albus, curious where this was going.

''In a sense. More, I wish to have Fawkes escort you some When.''

I gaped, then swallowed. Time travel was a well documented fact and ruthlessly controlled by the Un's. The Unspeakable's had ventured out into the Unknowables, and the Unavoidable as well. The Unknowable's were the ones who handled memories and mental arts, the Unspeakables still were the researchers and the Unavoidable's were Fausts private and utterly ruthless enforcer's. They had proven you could go back more then an hour but only up to a year so far, and it was strictly controlled.

''You have a plan.'' I accused softly, and I heard Gellert laughing uproar.

'' Vögelchen knows you well!'' He chortled a while more before entering the portrait besides Albus, a sharp glare sending the frames proper owner scattering. ''It is a good plan though. Flamel, french idiot that he is..'' Gellert muttered, I didn't know what the two had gotten into a fight over in the last few centuries but apparently the feud was still going strong. ''Is right. The Time is wrong. I specifically helped create the intricate rune arrays and calculations they made for the precauctions. Even in my cell..'' he glared at Albus for that and as always, Albus looked abashed. ''You will make certain whenever she goes, I am not to stay in it. You had other methods, Albus.''

''of course..of course..and I should have used them..'' Albus sighed and then smiled down again. ''I do. It would not work I had thought once. I spent...decades..wishing to go back in time and undo..our fight. I couldn't choose an event and it must be only once used. It's a difficult task but I could never figure out the calculations because of what it would do to ones magic. Until you came a month ago and mentioned Squibs and Talents. I seem to recall telling you I could see your magic. You have a great deal of it, that it is furrowed only in a few directions, which as Gellert has pointed out before all seem to wish to interplay together..means there is still more then a slight amount that could be..utilized.''

''You mean how I can use items others have crafted and simply activate the latent spells?'' I traced my fingers along the runes I knew lay twined around my ankle. Simple spells, I had a few on my hands and nails even for things like Lumos and Nox, there was the emergency red sparks one as well. Standard and applied fresh before my fourth birthday once they'd tested and assured I was a Squib.

''Exactly. You will be the channel and the power fueling the spell but needn't worry about damage to your core's channels because you don't have or use them as a regular witch or wizard would. Fawke's, you see my dear girl, is the key. Fawkes is not restricted by Where and When, but cannot take another save but once. It is why I couldn't experiment with it..''

''What will it cost Fawkes?" I asked concerned, my hand tracing the beautiful flames of Fawke's feathers. The phoenix crooned at me in delight over my consideration.

''His life.''

Gellert observed silently the utter stillness that overcame the room at his words. I couldn't move, and his dark eyes latched onto mine, merciless and calculating. ''It will cost his life Vögelchen, it will in a way take yours as well. You will be going back to When a squib was thought less then a muggle, you will be considered vile and useless. You will have a land that loathes you and your kind, you will not have even the basic consideration you do here, as a pampered pet though you'd have it. But this time is wrong. Albus prattled on for hours about how we could not ask you to do this. So I am not asking. Vögelchen you WILL do this because I am ordering you to. I deserved better then to languish in a tower.''

Funny how Gellert could manage to avoid saying all the other things. He hid it easily, and I felt my stomach tie up.

''And..When..there?''

''Fawkes will take you to Fawkes so to speak my dear girl, and thus to me. After that..depending on When it is, you'll be under my care. You won't be able to tell me of course, to preserve the future all key information is locked away in the spell crafting. It was to prevent accidents and all..though most information will be easily side stepped and utilized. The key will be in Fawkes returning to me I will have an overlay from him of what to avoid and expect. In a way you are not the changer of the time, dear girl, you are just the means to get Fawkes to me so that I can do something about it.''

Perhaps someone else would have felt slighted, I only felt relief. I paused letting my mind mull over the idea. He said spell so since he clearly could not cast it and I was not a witch it must be runic, which meant Fawkes coming into contact with the spell would activate it. I was to be the battery essentially, the vehicle but it would be fawkes inputting the directions. I licked my lips again and looked up. I was utterly terrified at the idea but I knew without a doubt otherwise my best bet was to impress with my talents to Dark Lord Faust, as Gellert had advised, and wait for whichever wizard or squib I was matched with. My life would be an unceasing motony of using my Talent's for anyone but myself and providing a brood until I was bred out, or disposed of unless my singing was worth keeping me around until old age.

I would be lucky if my cage was larger then a room and my actions not always directed for me.

Or I could dive into the unknown, be a tool for a man who openly admitted that though he was sorry he had to make such manipulations and mistakes in the past that Albus Dumbledore still made them, and provide him via his familiar some information or senses of what needed to be done that this future I was in would never exist. They did not assure me it would make a better world, perhaps Albus would have tried but Gellert wouldn't have allowed it.

''I don't suppose you'd tell me where to find your portrait when it's painted?'' I asked instead, looking up at Gellert. The Dark Lord of Durmstang roared his laughter, delighted.

'' Vögelchen..if you ever can make it to my spire, I'd be glad to pry apart your mind for each and every scrap of information that the spell doesn't block and continue to corrupt you.'' Gellert smirked, but I was under no illusions that I saw the Greatness in him, even as I knew at any point before this month had I somehow found the living man I'd be dead or destroyed without thought.

''You'd also try to kill me off.''

''Only once you cease being amusing.'' Gellert smirked at me, and I could hear Albus's disappointed sigh but he was used to the fact I was shameless in my devotion to the former Dark Lord. I had been Raised to view Faust as the Great Saviour but I acknowleged only Gellert as a true Lord of the Artes. I wouldn't follow him of course, his ideas and ideals had been..not for me. But I could say his mind and his wit were just as alluring as the call of dark magic must have been to his followers and unlike Albus Dumbledore, Gellert took joy in being so upfront with me and not needing his games. I think he was just entertained that he essentially stole away a born and bred follower to another Dark Lord because of the exact measures that had been put in place to seal our devotion from the start.

''All right then, my dear child..get out your journal and try to copy the exact appearance of the symbols I will be making with my wand, I will mirror them so you just copy as they look. I'll go slow..'' Albus said as he started making his portrait wand glow with leaving trails of soft golden light. ''The first...''

()()()()()

It took all night and most of the pre dawn hours. I went slow, methodically, so I could be certain on the very first time that I got the image correctly. I'm certain Albus or Gellert or even Nicholas, as all three men were in the portraits now having coached me through the symbols, had not forgotten my Base Talent. Each symbol I drew, each on it's own piece of paper to ensure I had it right was then copied down onto my skin. Because I lay each paper out on it's own and my talent made it where the symbols animated, exactly as when I was first shown them, I could easily trace it on my skin next. The ink had to be mixed with my blood and phoenix tears and I think all three portraits were a little surprised how casual I was about drawing my own blood.

My explanation that it was how we identified ourselves whenever we went somewhere because then we were documented and the obedience spells in places that controlled the masses would take effect..and that I didn't even blink about their use, chilled even Gellert. After all, they worked on everyone and it was mandatory.

I'd stripped down to my under shorts -everything utilitarian was unisex these days- so I could actually cut the symbols in and then rub the ink after when I asked Nicholas if it wouldn't be more effective that way. Seeing all the runes on me clearly had the men wishing to ask questions, but they didn't. After all, from collar bone to knee wrist to ankle I had numerous twisting black rune forms covering me. All Squibs did. I did explain some of them as I would rest to eat or the like in between, to steady my hands before the next symbol.

''Since we can't use spells we get Rune Arrays. One that portkey's us in an emergency to a set person..'' I had to explain the Matching and Master bonds to them, even Gellert seemed troubled at that and muttered that if Voldemort had just been unfortunate enough he could have created a match bond and found himself beholden to all his Death eaters to procreate and wouldn't that have been amusing..

''And that one?''

Flammel was the most curious, I liked Nicholas a great deal and smiled as he pointed out the one over my heart.

''That's different. The collarbone and Heart arrays are proclaiming family and lineage.''

''Any special ones?'' Gellert just couldn't help his blood commentary and I found myself chuckling.

''Well almost all The olde Ones were brought back. Most squibs have a number of them now. I don't know if any of mine would correspond to names you'd know, I can't read my own runes there.''

''Haven't bothered to look in a mirror?'' Nicholas teased but I just blinked a few times.

''Um, we..can't. Squibs aren't to know what we look like, or read our own runes. We aren't allowed to discuss family either..well lineage. That only becomes known if we are matched to a magical.''

''You've never..'' Nicholas pinched his nose. ''Child do you not know what you look like?''

''I can guess because of my parents and cousins, and I know my hair color because I have it kept long as any of the Court does..but no.''

''...crazy world.''

The rest of the conversation was abandoned as I went back to carving my skin, it was just barely deep and since I needed my own blood anyways it made it where mixing the ink and phoenix tears would be a lot easier to do. They'd scab over faintly but easily break back open when I rubbed it back on by hand later. Finally just as I could tell the sunrise was starting from the sky light, I was done. I'd scrubbed and almost tore a few marks in my effort to completely cover the new carvings in my skin, as faint as they were, with the three men assuring I didn't miss a location. Then I pulled my attire on, rune sealed my bags back into my skin with a flinch. It always felt like a cold heavy stone in my gut to do that, as they'd settle into my core. Luckily some last moment configuring had determined as my body was used to the bags it wouldn't alter the spell. I bundled up as best I could and wrapped the blanket around me for good measure, then nodded to Fawkes.

''When ever..literally...''

Fawkes tilted his head back then and sang, it was beautiful and I felt my tears spring forth. It was hope. I couldn't have helped myself if I tried, and I didn't. I didn't want the last sight of me in this dark twisted world by these three men, for as long as this future would last, to be of me the tiny gray clad figure they were sending off to uncertainty. I would be Melpomene. I would be Melpomene as she was meant to be not what she became later to the world.

My song burst out sharp and clear and then softened into crystalline notes that melded with the ethereal and ever so much more perfect tones of Fawkes. His song became even more heartsoothing and I felt his claws clamp deep on either side of my shoulders, where my garment didn't cover. His talons pierced deep and despite the trickle of blood my song only raised higher.

Let my tragedy be put to use, Fawkes. Whenever we went, I would be grateful.

()()()()()()

The last of the tiny phoenix fire sparks glowed into the marble floor, leaving behind three silent and serious great minds of their age.

''You wouldn't think a little thing like that would be of much use, would you?'' Gellert said idly. It didn't fool either man. Shades though they were, the tiny squib child had been an eager mind and willing tool. Something that all three could value.

''I wonder, to when they shall go?''

If Albus was to have answered, perhaps with a final clue he'd managed to divine through some favor of his outlook or transcendent knowledge, it never came. Their future and everything in it with them, was no more.

To When, was the true question.