The train was far louder than they had expected - bumpier, too. And yet, it was still more comforting knowing that the trip was still a bit longer than anticipated. The rain and fog had delayed their departure time, and, as inconvenient as it was, luck must have been on the Visage twins' side.

Io Visage was the oldest, but her character made up for what she lacked in stature. Her black near-sapphire blue fringe fell into her face as she struggled to read the papers in her hands, blurry from fatigue.

Her twin, in comparison, Aster Visage, stared out the window, daydreaming past the glass and out into the gloomy hills of the countryside. She pulled her icy blonde curls back to stay out of her face, grayed out and sullen. They had been on the train for a few hours now, and any conversation worth having fizzled out. All they had to view were gray skies, gray faces in photographs - gray as far as the eyes could see. The actual Hogwarts Express was in front of their cart. Apparently their arrival was meant to be somewhat of a secret, but to Aster, this made it more of a scene. They'd be the oldest of the new arrivals. Not that she cared that much. She relished the idea of making an entrance, and she knew, deep down, Io felt the same. While Aster didn't hide her vanity, Io played coy, defining their individual charisma.

Io and Aster were fraternal twins, though they could probably get away with being confused as identical. Io was born with the darkest midnight blue hair imaginable. By the age of five, it was pin straight and she struggled to keep it out of her face, so their mother gave her bangs that sat at her brows. She still has the bangs, while her hair has changed lengths over the years, never that far below the shoulders. Aster on the other hand had hair as white and icy as her demeanor. Her hair was always longer than Io's. Together, they looked like perfect puzzle pieces, dark, charismatic, and, frankly, frightening to anyone who hadn't spoken to them before. Io didn't like to admit it, but she liked that people were scared. It kept them curious. Aster wanted to frighten them more - if only for a chuckle.

Io looked at the pictures one by one. They were given so many people to study, and it just wasn't enough time. While each person had their own distinct features and she had no doubt she'd be able to find them easily, she still worried that maybe her gift of perception might not be as accurate as she hoped. Of the natural born gifts the twins possessed, perception, empathy, and intuition were her strengths.

Putting all her materials down, she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small pendulum, the very end of its string grasping onto a small gray crystal, decorated by black beads and golden shimmers from the light. It was a beautiful cloudy gray color, shaped like a teardrop.

"It's a moon stone - beautiful, isn't it? Quite small, but very great in terms of importance."

"What's it for?"

Io recalled Uncle Altair's gaunt face as he pondered his answer for a moment. He stared at her quietly, looking past her glance and into the stone as if he was transpiring a message.

"Keep it safe."

Noticing her distraction, Aster's gaze shifted over to her sister's trinket, being reminded that she'd been holding onto her own, letting its chain tangle in between her fingers, now warm with anxiety. She was always the more fiery of the two, being younger and more attuned to what she did and did not want. The elder was always more inclined to hold back her negative reactions, able to control her face better when in distress. At first glance, Aster's own pendulum was something she did not want, and in fashion, she made it very obvious.

"Not to your liking? It's jade."

"It looks like a superfluous trinket."

Their uncle grinned at her naivety, for the first time letting his humor shine through his sad eyes. He held it in her hands like it was a treasure before letting it rest on her palm. The pale green stone was carved into a dagger-like point.

"Why didn't he tell us what they were for?" Aster suddenly spoke with a harshness drawn out from spite.

Io placed hers down on her lap. "Maybe because - "

" - because he thinks we're children? Because we don't need to know yet?"

"Maybe because we're just not supposed to."

Io didn't like knowing any more than Aster, but she had faith in their uncle. If they needed to know what these were for urgently, he would have told them.

Wouldn't he?

Aster sighed and placed her pendulum back in her pocket. She leaned in towards the window, the fog setting in with an eerie air. They would be at Hogwarts soon, and the anticipation was near enough to kill.

"What do you suppose it's like?" Io asked quietly. Her hair swayed quietly with the motion of the train's rumble.

At Ilvermorny, they were allowed many privileges. However, for the Visage girls, most of the free moments any normal student would enjoy were taken up by extra lessons at the request of their Uncle who had long been the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. And while Uncle Altair was a pristine man to be respected, they never suspected that the extra work he had requested of them was for something so secretive and so important that it required them to be shipped off across the sea to another wizarding school. Any chance they had to complain was absorbed by reassurance and the constant reminder -

"Life is not a picture - it is a puzzle. A puzzle whose pieces have been scattered about the world, always seemingly unfinished. Keep practicing, and find those pieces."

Uncle Altair had raised the twins for as long as they could remember. He didn't speak much of his brother and their mother. As curious as the girls were, they never found the right time to ask, and they never felt the urge to pry. They were always well provided for - wonderful gifts at Christmas, lavish weekends in the country on birthdays, and a Parisian-inspired wardrobe in honor of their family roots. Among the sweets came the pains, and lessons never stopped - not in that household.

Io recalled the morning she finished training for her animagus transformations. Uncle seemed quite surprised to find a sleek black cat with piercing silver eyes perched on his desk so early in the morning. He merely smiled, scratched her chin and said "Good job."

Aster spent more of her time with her books, practicing every charm to be found on the small objects in her room. She didn't have the patience to become an animagus. It wasn't until the day that Uncle tried confiscating her makeup bag that he learned she'd finally perfected the anti-theft charm-and had successfully managed to cast it on almost every object of importance to her. At that point, he had decided she had earned at least one or two luxuries.

Both girls, however, shared one skill that they cherished above all, and it was a skill their Uncle insisted on. Legilimency was difficult to master, but it served them well. Uncle Altair practiced Occlumency, hiding his thoughts at all times as did the other professors at Ilvermorny. Not many students studied this, so it was essential.

The unspoken motto for their family carried much weight in their hearts, far away from home, and felt like lead crushing their chests like a silent burden.

"It's not home if that's what you mean." The younger girl responded plainly. "New people, new friends, new classes - all superficial until this is over."

"I imagine the friends won't be superficial."

"We're befriending them for reasons unknown, and when those reasons come to light, we will no longer be friends. Don't lie to yourself, Io. It's superficial." Aster spoke with such spite. "None of them know what we're here for. I almost hate people like us."

Io sat upright to defend their purpose. "It's not like we have a choice. You heard what Uncle said, if we don't do this - "

" - we risk losing everyone."

"Yes. We risk losing everyone."

Altair Visage sat alone in his office at Ilvermorny. The moon was already shining bright, and the other professors were sound asleep. This was the first time Io and Aster had been truly out of his sight in years. 15 years ago when his brother Ion pleaded with him to take the girls to America, he didn't think they'd be going back to the very place their parents decided to let them go.

But it was happening again - Voldemort had returned. Things were starting to look and feel like they did back then. Altair packed up his office at Hogwarts to keep his nieces safe, but now that the time had come, only they could piece together how this war was going to proceed.

Altair had been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts ever since, but when a young Seer was the last to leave his class, everything had changed. She grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with blind fear as she delivered this prophecy, not knowing how it would change his life and his nieces lives from that point forward.

Albus Dumbledore was going to die - and Harry Potter was going to witness his death.