October 17th, 1995
Ministry Of Magic

"I sincerely hope you haven't forgotten I need the key."

Amelia Bones rolled her eyes when she turned around and handed Kingsley a small, gold key, before saying something to herself under her breath in Russian. He gave her a thin smile, and proceeded to unlock the door to the Department Of Mysteries. Then, he handed it back to her.

"Tell Arthur I'm relieved he did not insist on trying to come down here for this," Kingsley sighed. "Or, better yet, thank the Minister for having him continue his typical work schedule. I would rather this be handled by the specialists and, for all of Arthur's extensive knowledge of some more…obscure, shall we say, subjects, it's a sensitive issue."

Amelia gave him a sideways glance. "If we're going to be completely without pretences, I'm amazed Cornelius is able to bring himself to do any work at the moment. I know, of course, he's been working less considering his wife's…condition, but it shocks me nonetheless."

"Distraction is a primary mode of processing grief," Kingsley replied, continuing to walk down the winding halls with her. "Though I'll admit I am uncertain of how I feel about him giving each of his children a sigil key."

"That," Amelia said. "Is something I understand much more. Those keys are protective, and I can completely understand his rationale in having Catherine, Shyanne, and Edward wear one at all times, now. It is no worse than giving a Hogwarts student, such as Hermione Granger, a time turner so she could take more classes. Speaking of which, were those destroyed yet?"

Kingsley hesitated. "Are you completely sure about that order, Amelia?"

She bristled, pausing to look at him more closely.

"I have the authority to give the order as head of the Department Of Magical Law Enforcement. And I have done so," She coldly replied. "I have the additional signatures to back the order up. Time turners are far too dangerous for anyone to have and, now, with all of them confiscated, it is safest to destroy them. I hope you haven't forgotten what You Know Who could do if he or any of those in his inner circle could do if they were to acquire one."

Kingsley shifted uncomfortably. "How many signatures?"

"The Minister, the heads of all the other departments, and several high level members of my own department," Amelia replied, crossing her arms while one of her hands tightened around her wand. "That is, of course, apart from you."

"If used properly by others in the Ministry," Kingsley hesitantly began. "It is possible we could intervene in severe crimes committed by Death Eaters."

"Absolutely not," Amelia frowned. "I do not care what justification there may or could possibly be for even the most screened, most tested, most capable aurors using Time Turners. At the end of the day, they are a risk to everyone. They should, therefore, not be able to be used by anyone. If that means destroying all of them, then so be it."

Kingsley eyed her for a moment, and then curtly nodded.

"If that is your order, I will not stand in your way," He finally said as the two of them began walking again. "What's the date and time set for their destruction?"

"The 28th," Amelia said shortly. "At 7:30 that morning."

"Alright," He said. "But do ensure it goes smoothly."

Kingsley pulled out another key, jamming it into the next door and cursing at it a little under his breath when it got stuck. Finally, it opened, and they were able to step through.

"There won't be any problems, Kingsley, of that I'm more than certain," Amelia said darkly, glancing up at the glowing orbs. "You will be overseeing it with me."

"Of course," Kingsley paused, looking up at the almost wispy orbs. "If it weren't so ominous, the Hall Of Prophecy would be rather beautiful."

"Yes, it would," Amelia agreed, slowly stepping forward again. "But we aren't here to stare. We have something to retrieve."

"I know," Kingsley said, reaching up to pull down the prophecy they had been looking for. After a second of hesitation, he handed it to her. "Prophecies," He reminded her. "Can only be heard by those about whom they are made."

Amelia examined the orb before slipping it into a silk shroud she placed in her bag.

"True," She agreed. "But Potter won't object to using this once we inform their family we have it."

October 19th, 1995
London

"These are certainly not the conditions under which we had wanted to have this conversation," Victor Picquery handed Lily a glass of wine as he sat down across from her and Allison in the glitzy and, mercifully secluded, hotel lobby. "But we haven't a choice in the matter now."

"We don't," Lily took a sip of her wine with a sigh. "But it is inevitable. Everyone at work has been incredibly cagey about the subject whenever I bring it up, and I've become all the more confused as to whether or not anyone agrees with me that a prophecy about my son – should it exist as I believe it does – ought to be heard."

"They may be doing so in order not to raise your expectations for it too high," Allison cautioned her. "A prophecy is far from an unchanging thing. They are incredibly mutable. My grandfather – on my mother's side, that is – has many stories about MACUSA and prophecies and other forms of divination from the 20s. Most of them end badly. My grandfather on my father's side, Jacob, had always been deeply wary of them. I certainly agreed with him on that."

"Jacob was a more perceptive man than anyone gave him credit for the first time they met him," Victor shook his head. "My own grandmother included. She was as stunned as anyone to find out he had not been affected by obliviating. As it turns out, love truly is more powerful than many forms of magic. I absolutely understand why Queenie always reminds you and Jasper of that."

Allison briefly glanced down at her hands. "Indeed," She eventually said, taking a long sip of her Long Island Iced Tea. "Well," She looked to Lily. "I would be incredibly hesitant about this. If someone does turn out to agree with you on the matter, their motivation may very well be political."

"As is mine," Lily agreed. "This could have important ramifications. I need to be able to guide my son as best I can. This could be one way to do precisely that."

"Then you have to understand where prophecies originate," Victor nervously shifted a pen in his hands. "I don't just mean from the person who recites them. I'm referring to the sight itself."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "The sight?"

"Many no-majs have the sight as a latent form of magic," Victor said. "Whether or not you can use magic to its fullest extent the way witches, wizards, mages, or whatever one calls oneself in our community, every human being has magical potential. No-majs can have clairvoyant or, as they often refer to it, psychic abilities and experiences. For those of us in the wizarding community…it is full access, if one has it, to the sight. Frequently, it is involuntary."

"Involuntary?" Lily's brow furrowed in confusion. "How do you mean that?"

"A person can experience visions, or engage in some form with the sight without being able to recall it immediately," Victor continued. "Often times, when no-majs experience this, it's a result of some of the tools they use to fully engage the sight. By tools I, of course, mean chems or, to be most blunt, drugs."

Lily stifled back a laugh. "Sorry," She said, regaining her composure. "I simply hadn't considered those as being useful before."

Allison shrugged. "Many don't, but be it mushrooms, LSD, or any other form of psychedelic, those experiences can grant one access to the sight after which they will have to return to whatever notes or signs they had written or otherwise made during the experience."

Victor nodded. "Similarly, when someone in the wizarding community has full and involuntary psychic experience, they are often left a bit dazed and confused afterwards."

"Dazed and confused?" Lily hesitated. "Can that occur after visions or just prophecies?".

"It can occur after both," Victor said, a hint of scientific curiosity rising in him. "Have you ever had experiences with such things first hand?"

"No, although Eddie occasionally has visions. He has since he was about nine, I think," Lily off handily replied, taking another sip of her wine. "I wouldn't mention that to Delia, in case you didn't already know. She gets upset anytime someone makes even the slightest note of it."

"She doesn't get upset when we mention it," Victor eyed her strangely. "We've known that for years. He first had a vision of Jacob and Queenie's wedding – something he had never even seen a photograph of or heard about – when he touched his wedding ring which Queenie always keeps on a necklace she never takes off. I'm surprised to hear you say that. Lia can be overprotective of all three of her children, but –"

"She was even more that way about them when they were little, particularly…" Allison fell silent in horror. "I had almost forgotten, Vic, about –"

"Are you –" Victor sighed. "I hope you can understand, Lily," He said. "This is not my story to tell."

Lily glanced between the two of them, sighing when Victor suddenly stood up and began to pace in front of the bar on the other side of the lobby.

"I won't get into the details," Allison finally said, reaching over to rest one of her hands over Lily's. "But Delia's paranoia as a mother only grew worse leading up to her giving birth to Eddie. I don't know if she's ever told you, but he was born nearly three months premature. He survived, of course, and it certainly helped he was tended to by some of the most compassionate and skilled doctors I ever met."

Lily's face fell. "I had no idea."

"That isn't the only reason she's so bothered by the notion of Eddie having an ability well beyond anyone's expectations," Allison took a moment to take another long sip of her Long Island Iced Tea. "Two months before she fell pregnant with Eddie, Delia had an absolutely brutal miscarriage."

"She…" Lily's voice went soft. "She did?"

Allison bit her lip. "She was bedridden for over a week both from the emotional anguish as well as the painful bleeding. What truly crushed her had been knowing, when she finally brought herself to examined by a doctor, she had not only lost a pregnancy, but one with twins. She didn't let Catherine or Shyanne leave her sights afterwards, not for long unless they were asleep."

Lily swallowed hard. "Do her kids know?"

"They don't," Allison said softly. "For awhile, only Cornelius knew. I had never seen anyone be so attentive to and comforting of their spouse before then, not personally, and I had no idea what had happened until after I first saw Eddie in hospital. Tiniest little thing, hooked up to machines, constantly watched to ensure he was growing and stabilising. One night, after sitting with him in the NICU and having pumped enough milk to feed him for the next…day and a half, I believe, she broke down sobbing into me, still in the same damn slacks, blouse, and blazer she had been wearing for nearly three days, before telling me how desperate she was for him to be alright. I'm rarely without words, but that…it left me utterly speechless."

"Of course it would," Lily glanced over to where Victor was still indecisively pacing. "That's incredibly painful."

Allison nodded. "He was recovered enough to come home after two months in hospital. Two months, Lily. Did you ever wonder why she was so cold to you and James at the start? It was because she was bitter about how idyllic your life seemed. Don't tell her I told you any of this."

"I won't," Lily promised. "I only hope she will be okay now."

October 20th, 1995
Hogwarts

"I would be careful if I were you. It's time you learn to respect your betters."

Too quick for him to avoid it, Draco tripped Eddie down a flight of stairs out of the astronomy tower. The one time Slytherins and Ravenclaws have divination together, this happens. Fuck, I – Eddie stumbled, relieved, for a moment, that his bag containing his wand, books, papers, and pens was sealed and that he had charmed it to be far bigger on the inside than on the outside. It was only a momentary relief. He slipped again on his bag, and did not stop falling until he was at the bottom of the stairs. He let out a cry in pain when his head smacked against the floor, and, when he reached up, could feel a bit of blood starting to flow even through his dark curls. His glasses had fallen off in the fall, and Goyle quickly stomped on them. Crabbe then kicked him in the chest, leaving the fifteen year old winded and, briefly, gasping for air. He barely heard Draco calling them off as he sauntered down the stairs. By the time he, too, was at the bottom, Eddie had managed to get up, and swung his bag over his shoulder. He began to run the best he could in spite of his disorientation into the main castle. Without realising it, and still too disoriented to realise Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were leisurely following after him, Eddie all but slammed into Hermione, who jumped before trying to steady him.

"You look dreadful," She raised an eyebrow when she saw he was bleeding. "Eddie, you really ought to –"

"The hell's going on?" Ron said, finally catching up to her, Harry only shortly behind him. He grimaced when he saw Eddie holding his broken glasses. "Mate, you –"

"I'll fix them in a minute," Eddie said, his hands a bit unsteady. "It's fine. Where are the three of you going?"

"We were looking for you," Harry said, his eyes narrowing when he saw Draco approaching them. "It's an early weekend starting this evening. We were thinking it might be fun to go into Hogsmeade."

"Sounds great," Eddie unzipped his bag to quickly pull out his wand. Silently – or, just like mum says, the way we do things in the States – he repaired his glasses, set them back on his face, and slipped his wand back into the bag and zipped it up almost as quickly as he had opened it. "Probably should let Shyanne know, though. They've seemed antsy about staying around here."

"They already agreed to come with us," Ron said with a shrug. "But that's not a surprise. They –"

"Draco!" Hermione scowled when he smugly stopped in front of them in the corridor. "You forgot something," She said coldly, briefly sharing a glance with Eddie, who awkwardly rubbed at his still lightly bleeding head. "This!"

Not giving herself a moment to hesitate, she twitted him upside the head. Draco took a step back, and, when he looked up at them, he was seething.

"What right do you think you have to touch me?" He sneered. "You stupid mudblood."

"You want to go for that?" Ron flipped him off with both hands before starting to walk away with Harry, Hermione, and Eddie. "Honestly," He muttered. "That git is so high off himself he might as well be taking some of those muggle street drugs or whatever they call them."

"You're going to pay for that eventually, Weasley!" Draco shouted after them. "Just like his mother is paying for her bloody pride!"

Eddie paused, and began shaking when he glanced back at the blonde. Draco smirked at him, and both Ron and Hermione set hands to each of Eddie's shoulders while Harry started towards Draco.

"Say that again," He crossed his arms. "You think that's something to treat like a joke? You're sick."

"Of course you say that, Potter," Draco rolled his eyes. "Has all the second hand smoke from your mum finally gotten to and polluted your common sense?"

"Oh, the fuck is going on here?"

Surprised, Ron, Eddie, and Hermione stepped out of the way when Shyanne slid down the banister of the nearest staircase, their long, hot pink ponytail all but flying behind them. Taking one look at their brother, Shyanne tightly hugged him before glancing between Hermione, Ron, and Harry. Then, they sashayed past them to stand in between and to the side of Harry and Draco, who were both still scowling at each other.

"Ditching class, are we?" Draco laughed. "I hope you haven't forgotten I'm one of our house's prefects."

"As if I give half a damn about that," Shyanne replied. "Don't make me ask again: what is this?"

"He said your mum deserves to be in the state she is," Harry told them. Shyanne's gaze instantly grew dark when they looked back at Draco. "And," Harry angrily added. "We think he punched your brother."

"He simply slipped over my foot and fell down the stairs from the astronomy tower," Draco innocently said, taking a few steps back when he saw the way Shyanne was glaring at him. Crabbe and Goyle immediately ran off down another corridor. "That's what happened," Draco continued. "Your brother is a klutz, and your mother is paying for her bloody pride."

Shyanne's fingers began to curl and, briefly, they reached for their wand tied up in their ponytail.

"There's a saying we have back in the States," They said, calmly adjusting their glasses. "Now, where mum comes from in the South and where we lived, for a time, this saying usually involves a tire iron. But you know what works just as well?"

Draco began to laugh, only for the right side of his face to be punched thrice in succession by Shyanne.

"You're going to have a black eye, for awhile," They said when Draco stumbled, holding his face in his hands. "And no amount of makeup can cover that up, even if you try."

"I'm going to get you in a world of trouble for this," Draco hissed. "You think this is funny?"

"No, it isn't," Shyanne said coldly. "But it was necessary. People like you need to be knocked down more than a few pegs. Do you know why? Because, if you didn't, you wouldn't push someone smaller than you down the fucking stairs."

"I'm 5'9"!" Eddie called to them. "Shay –"

"And he's nearly six feet tall!" Shyanne turned back to Draco. "Go to hell. I'm not going to tell you so again."

"They're right," Harry said, stepping to be toe to toe with Draco. "If there's one thing I doubt you've ever understood, it's that some things are more important than –"

"You have no idea what my life is, Potter," Draco snapped. "Or what my family has been through. At least you have your stupid sister."

"Say that to Eleanor," Harry bit back, not immediately realising what the blonde was implying. "I'm sure she will have a field day with you on the quidditch pitch."

"And I'll be happy to set her head back on right," Draco went to slap him but Harry caught his wrist. "You can think any amount of foul things about me and my family, but you at least have yours fully intact."

"I don't," Harry snapped. "You think it feels good living without a father? How about we set yours up in Azkaban, see if that changes your damn mind."

Draco let his face slip for a second, fear and upset rising to the surface.

"Get your hands off me," He ripped his arm away from Harry before trying to shove him into the wall only to be pushed back. "You'll regret this."

"Maybe I will," Harry said, meeting the blonde's scowl with one of his own. "But at least I have real ground to stand on."