Rachel was wandering from room to room again. She was starting to recognize repeated sequences of rooms in her wanderings, though she still found at least one room that was new to her a week. As she walked, she took the time to stop and look at different things the rooms contained - most of them, at least. Whenever she encountered the void, she simply hurried through the room, and she still had not gotten a good look at the aquatic monsters and nor did she want to. She was getting the suspicion that the Department knew she was delaying her work on the Morsius Pensieve and was helping her in her own way by diverting Rachel to other rooms.

She left the room that she called the 'lost and found', which was the room filled with a variety of objects, some cataloged and some not, and stepped into a room that she definitely hadn't seen before.

The room was filled with shimmering light, which, after a moment of looking around, she identified as coming from a large bell jar. When she grew closer to the bell jar, she found shimmering sand inside, and an egg. The egg quickly hatched, grew into a hummingbird, grew smaller again, and then the egg reformed around it. There were clocks of all sorts, from small time pieces on tables to grandfather clocks stretching up to the ceiling, and all of them were ticking away, though she noticed that none of them seemed to say the same time. In a large glass cabinet on the wall, Rachel recognized something she'd only seen described in books.

Rows upon rows of glass hourglasses of various sizes - some ornamented with gold or silver casing and some not - each containing an amount of shimmering sand. Rachel drew closer. She'd heard the rumors that the Department of Mysteries had time turners, who hadn't, but she hadn't quite imagined them all lined up like this. There were at least three obvious spots where time turners were missing.

"Come to gawk at our time turners?"

Rachel startled, lifting a hand automatically as she turned.

"Ah, no need for that. We don't cast magic in this room unless absolutely necessary," a tall man with sandy hair said as he came into sight.

She lowered her hand sheepishly. "You startled me, that's all."

"Former aurors are notoriously jumpy, so no surprise there," he said. "What brings you to visit the Time Room today?"

"Just lost, actually. I think the Department is showing me around."

"She does that, though not a lot of people wind up here. Are you interested in studying time?"

"No, I'm in the potions group. Though, I do have some questions," she said. The man seemed somewhat terse, but maybe he could at least point her in the right direction.

"Why didn't we interfere with the war?" he asked, looking slightly put upon. Her expression must have given her away, because he nodded. "Everyone who winds up here asks that question."

"Is there an answer?" she asked, because she thought it was a pretty understandable question, all things considered. There were dozens of time turners here, surely they could have done something.

"Department policy. We don't interfere in wars or battles."

She continued to look at him, waiting for something more than just the idea that it was a policy.

"You want to know why, don't you? There's a file in the Archives. 647.22. Read it and you'll understand," he said.

"Alright. Thank you," she said, figuring that was as good as she was going to get. "My name is Rachel."

"Of course it is. Do you think you're not the most recognizable person in Britain?"

"I generally find it polite to introduce myself when I meet someone new," she said pointedly.

He rolled his eyes. "Ezra Wilkins, and no I'm not related to that Wilkins; I'm a half-blood."

Since Rachel didn't know of anyone named Wilkins, she simply nodded. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Ask."

"Does the Department really give time turners to Hogwarts students as a prelude to recruiting them?" she asked, since that was the other rampant rumor she'd heard about time turners.

The corner of Ezra's mouth curled up. "We've been known to do that on occasion when a student wishes to take all of the electives and their Head of House and the Headmaster or Headmistress vouches for them. It doesn't happen often, but it happens."

Rachel laughed. "My friends and I talked one of our friends out of signing up for all the electives. She would be so upset if she knew she missed that opportunity."

"Which friend?" he asked.

"Hermione Granger. She's currently a curse specialist."

"Ah, yes. The Department has been watching her for some time. You also would have been a candidate to have received a time turner, should you have decided to take all of the electives."

As interesting as that sounded, Rachel knew that wouldn't have been good for her. "My father never would have allowed it."

"In general, we don't tell the students' parents. Their ability to keep a secret is one of the things we're testing," Ezra said.

She thought that sounded downright irresponsible. It wasn't right to put that much pressure on a thirteen year old. It was a little painful though, to consider all of the things she might have done with a time turner. She could have saved lives, depending on how far back she could travel. Sturgis Podmore, maybe. Maureen Nash. Charity Burbage. Possibly other people, if she could have identified them from her visions.

"Other questions on the nature of time?"

"Is there nothing that can be done for that poor bird?" Rachel asked, pointing at the bell jar.

"I'm afraid not. We're not in the habit of being cruel, our goals are generally to help people. The bird was an experiment from two hundred years ago - we don't experiment on animals anymore. As far as we can tell, the bird is at least not suffering," Ezra said, his gaze going to the bell jar.

Rachel nodded. "Is that the same sand that is found in time turners?"

"It is. As you can see, it's best kept contained for a reason."

"Can you make new time turners or are they ancient artifacts?"

Ezra turned back to her. "That's classified, I'm afraid. Speaking of classified, how is your project going?"

"Pretty good," she hedged, not sure how much she was allowed to say.

"Working with the Morsius Pensieve is always a tough project. Studying death isn't easy for anyone. Give Patrick hell if you need a break from it. You can say no to him if you want to," Ezra said, looking entirely serious.

Rachel wasn't really sure about that. She'd tried telling Patrick that she didn't want to do this anymore, but it hadn't really gone very well. "Thank you," she said anyway.

"Anything else while you're here?"

"No. Thank you for answering my questions. Is this a terminal room?" she checked.

"It's not, but more often than not, that door leads to the Hall of Prophecy, so you might wind up having to retrace your steps regardless," he said.

"Okay. I'll leave you to your work." Rachel decided to go through the far door, just to see where she wound up. The next room was not the Hall of Prophecy, but what she'd come to term as the 'bone room', thanks to all of the bits of human and creature skeletons. "Lead on," she told the Department. She wasn't really in a mood to watch Tom Riddle's memories today anyway.

She found herself busy in her office on Monday afternoon. She had drafted four letters, which she then set aside for Booker to transcribe on official Wizengamot parchment and bring back to her to sign. She had read a proposal from Adam Harkness, which she thought she might be willing to vote for, but she wanted to talk to him first about some of the wording. That was fine because she wanted to talk to him about her House Elf proposal. She made a note for Booker indicating she wanted a tea or dinner appointment with Harkness and for him to find out when this proposal was being voted on.

Her next order of business was to read the much smaller tax proposal that Francis had sent a rough draft to her for her comments. She half wanted to strangle Francis - taxes were not her problem nor should they be, and she never should have involved herself in the issue to begin with. Hopefully Alwen had drafted this with Francis and also hopefully it actually made sense this time. She still had half a mind to gather Alwen and Rufus and suggest that the tax code be rewritten, but she'd been in government long enough to know that was a massive undertaking and could easily take the next ten years. She did not want to do that and she strongly suspected that Alwen and Rufus didn't want to either.

Looking around her desk for something to deal with that wasn't taxes, Rachel found her tally for the House Elf proposal. She still needed to make a lot of inroads, but Sirius and Draco had reported that everyone in her faction had fallen in line following her promises for support during the election. She'd take it to Amelia next, and then Rufus. Hopefully by that point Janice and Ethan would have sorted out the Guilds faction. If she could get all of them and a promise of their factions' votes, then she just had to round up a couple of independents and she could schedule the vote. Easier said than done

She'd done everything she could on that for the time being, so she tucked that away and searched her desk for any errant letters she hadn't dealt with or memos that needed answering. Unfortunately her desk was surprisingly clear; Booker took good care of organizing the things that she needed to do. She literally could not do her job without him, and that was even without considering that he took care of the bulk of her mail. Rachel didn't mind acting as her own clerk in the Unspeakables, but her workload in the Wizengamot was entirely different.

Unable to find something else that urgently needed doing, Rachel took Francis' proposal from where she'd stashed it along with a pile of parchment so that she could take notes and settled in to read for what would probably be the rest of her workday. She was not taking a tax proposal home with her, she outright refused.

She was about two pages into her notes, most of them figures with question marks next to them, when there was a knock on her inner office door. "Yes?"

Booker peered in. "Is this a bad time?"

"No. What do you know about taxes? Anything?"

"Not enough to help you with this, you'll want Alwen again. Do you want me to see if he's available?"

"No. Let me get through at least one pass at this and see if I can get anything from it. I swear I used to be better at maths. I did a NEWT in Arithmancy and it made sense when I did it then," she complained.

"Different maths, for a different application. I'm not surprised it doesn't translate," Booker said, coming to take a seat opposite her.

Rachel felt that maths should be maths, it shouldn't matter what she was using it for, but apparently the world didn't work that way. "I have letters for you, and I want tea or dinner with Adam, but I also want to know when voting on his proposal is," she said, gathering her stack of parchment that she'd set aside for him.

"I'll look into it. I have this for you, though I can simply tell you its contents," he said, holding up a letter.

"What now?" she asked, guessing this was why Booker had felt the need to sit and have a conversation with her instead of just delivering things.

"Did you see in the newspaper, about six weeks ago, the killings in Oxfordshire?" he asked.

Rachel wracked her brain for any memory of that. "Death Eater related? That's too early for the Death Eaters, isn't it?"

"It was three weeks before the first Death Eater attack, but there's nothing linking it to the Death Eaters. It was a family murder. A woman killed her husband and three children."

Now that Booker had described it, Rachel vaguely recalled seeing something about a family murder in the newspaper, though she couldn't place it. "I assume you're telling me this because it's a full Wizengamot trial?"

"That's right. You have summons in two weeks. If you are not recovered enough from your procedure by then, we can let Janice know and she'll excuse you," Booker said.

Rachel found that she wished she wouldn't be recovered by then, she hated sitting on murder trials, but she had been told that she should be up and about within three days of the procedure. "I should be fine by then. Why is this a full Wizengamot trial; was she using Unforgivable Curses?"

"No, it's a lesser used law. When someone murders their own children and there are no mitigating factors, under most circumstances the law requests a life sentence," he explained, watching her.

"What would be considered a mitigating factor?" she checked, uncertain what would possibly make it okay for someone to murder their own children.

"If they were under the Imperius Curse or were in another way compelled to the action. Or if the child dies under their care, but it is found not to be willful neglect. This is to prevent the penalty being given for unforeseen accidents, but it would still apply in instances where a child was not being given sufficient food or shelter or if the parent were purposefully bringing them to dangerous dealings."

Rachel nodded, understanding the difference. "Do we know why this woman killed her own children?"

"I do not know. I've only seen the summons," Booker said, placing the letter on her desk.

She looked at it grimly. Since the end of the Death Eater trials, she had only sat on fourteen trials total. In general, the full Wizengamot wasn't convened for a trial for anything less than a life sentence. Most single murders were only twenty five year sentences, as long as there weren't additional complications like illegal spells or torture.

"Alright, put it on my calendar," she finally said, not seeing anything she could do about it. "Do you know what time Amelia has me on Thursday?"

"Three o'clock, in her office here in the Wizengamot," Booker said. "I'll see what I can find out about Adam. Let me know when you want Alwen. Anything else?"

"Are there books about taxes?" she checked.

"Not that I know of beyond reading the tax code itself. It would be better to consult with National Finance; they'll be able to make it clearer than the code."

Rachel nodded, resigning herself to stumbling through it.

"Let me know if you need me," Booker said, gathering the stack of parchment she'd given him and letting himself out.

She gathered up the tax proposal and went into her outer office. "Do you know anything about taxes, Monty?"

"Only that they were a pain in the rear when I was dealing with them. This is just part of being in the government, dear," Monty said.

"That's what I figured. Was the tax code as much of a mess when you were on the Wizengamot?"

"I'm sure it was. Every few years they tack something new onto it," he said.

Rachel was getting that impression as well. She understood the purpose of taxes. They funded the Ministry, Hogwarts, and St. Mungo's, and all three were very important cornerstones of magical Britain. What she didn't understand was why they had to be so convoluted. "Alright. I'm going to read this. If I don't come out in two hours, holler at me, because I'll probably be brain dead."

"Will do, dear. Take care of your brain, it is the only one you have."

She supposed that was true. Even with magic, there was no fixing the brain. Some things, like taxes, were just too difficult for even magic to solve.

"Alright, welcome to the first meeting of the let's get Millie and Natalie finally married committee," Isobelle said. "I propose we put up a sign at the wedding that says 'it's about damn time'."

"You're one to talk. You're not married," Millie said, giving her sister a look.

"I haven't been dating someone for nine years," Isobelle said.

Millie rolled her eyes. "You don't date anyone for more than six months."

"It's a good thing I'm not marrying them then, isn't it?"

"Anyway, we have a basic list," Rachel said. "But we should discuss it and figure out more specifics on what we need to do and the order things need to be done in."

"Are Natalie's sisters taking care of Natalie?" Ginny asked, peering at the list.

"Yes, Tiffany is her maid of honor, and then her sisters are bridesmaids," Millie said. "We're getting married at Natalie's grandmother's church, so that part should be set. We still need a venue for the dinner afterwards. I'd like something smaller and more intimate than what Draco and Neville had."

"Do we have a list of people you're inviting?" Isobelle asked.

"Right…" Millie paused, shuffling through the parchment on the table. "Here. Not finalized, but pretty close. I'm sure we're forgetting people."

"At least you don't have to invite the entire Wizengamot," Rachel pointed out. Half the people at Draco's and Neville's weddings had been Wizengamot members and their spouses.

"That's a relief. And we're in the same Guild, so no worries about that part," Millie said. "Guild. Families. Friends. I can't think of anyone else we're supposed to invite. We need catering, but Hannah told me to pick a venue before the catering."

"Invitations, you don't have invitations on your list," Ginny said, picking up a quill.

"Hard to invite people without invitations," Isobelle said. "You need flowers."

Millie moaned. "Flowers. Bouquets, I suppose. What else do I need flowers for?"

"Table arrangements, maybe? Though those don't have to be flowers," Ginny said. "How are you doing your hair? You could do flowers in your hair."

"No, I want as few flowers on me as possible."

Rachel nodded. That was good to know in advance.

"Dress shopping. Are the bridesmaids in matching gowns?" Isobelle asked.

"Do you want to be in matching gowns?" Millie asked, looking at them.

"It's your wedding, Millie. We aren't going to complain. Though do you want us to match Natalie's bridesmaids?" Ginny asked.

Millie looked thoughtful, her eyes moving back and forth as she considered it. "Complementary, but not matching, I think. It should be clear that you're my bridesmaids and that Natalie's are hers."

"Then we should match a color in your gown somehow, and Natalie's should have a matching color with hers," Isobelle said. "Here, let me write."

Ginny passed the list to Isobelle. "What about a hen do?"

"No hen do. Natalie and I are in absolute agreement about that."

"Bridal showers?" Rachel checked, feeling that they had to do that at least.

"That I can live with," Millie said. "Astoria said we needed to sort out dresses well in advance, so I'm thinking we're shopping for them in January or February. We should have a venue decided on by then as well."

"Cake," Isobelle said. "You've got to taste cakes and pick one."

"Those usually have to be arranged well in advance too, I think," Ginny said.

"Somehow six to eight months does not seem all that far away when we put it like this," Millie said, leaning over her sister's shoulder to look at the list.

"We'll get it done in time. I think the first thing you and Natalie need to do is pick a date and a venue, because you have to make sure the church and the venue can both have you on that day. All of the other things you need will want to know that date," Rachel pointed out.

"Want us to look at venues with you?" Ginny offered.

"Uh, maybe. I'll check with Natalie and see what she wants to do," Millie said. "I'm leaning towards a mostly indoor venue, in case of rain."

"Makes sense," Rachel said. It rained enough in the spring that it was impossible to guess whether or not they'd get a clear evening.

"Anything big that we're missing?" Isobelle asked, looking over the list again before passing it to Millie.

"Merlin only knows," Millie said, reading the list again. "Every time I think we've got everything, someone tells us about something new we need."

"We'll figure it out," Rachel said. "We've got enough people working on this that we'll catch everything. Maybe ask Hannah and Astoria to look over your list and see if they had anything that you want to add."

Millie nodded. "I think I'll start there and then Natalie and I will figure out the date thing."

Rachel knocked on Amelia's office door in the Wizengamot on Thursday afternoon, her mind busy with all the things she needed to touch base with Amelia about.

Stella opened the door a few moments later. "As expected, right on time. How are you, Rachel?"

"Pretty good. How about yourself?" she asked, stepping into Amelia's office when Stella held the door for her.

"Oh, you know how it is. Everyone in the MLE is pretty keyed up right now," Stella said.

"I'm sure they are. Any luck on anything?"

"I'll let Amelia go over what we have with you. The short answer is, we have something. The long answer is it isn't going to do us much good," Stella said.

"Miss Stella, you should not be running your mouth," Alcott Bones, the portrait in Amelia's main office, said.

"Rachel already knows everything, Alcott. She's involved in the investigation," Stella said, semi-patiently.

"Back in my day they did not let Wizengamot members get involved in MLE investigations," Alcott said firmly. "Let alone join the aurors or the Unspeakables."

"The Unspeakables are really not very dangerous, if that's your objection," Rachel said.

"Tell that to the reports of Unspeakables we lose every year to that horror of a Department," he said, shaking his head at her.

Rachel didn't quite know what to say to that, even as Amelia stepped into the doorway from her inner office.

"I'm certain Rachel is taking all reasonable precautions when entering the Department of Mysteries," she said steadily. "We've talked about you haranguing my guests, Alcott."

"I am not haranguing them. I am trying to make them see reason," Alcott said.

"Please leave that part to me," Amelia said before looking at Rachel. "Come on back."

"I take it Alcott is like that with everyone, not just me?" Rachel asked once they were safely shut inside Amelia's inner office.

"Only if they are doing something he disapproves of, which is most everyone," Amelia said as she sat down.

"Who does he approve of?" she asked, unable to help herself.

"He rather likes Adam Harkness, but I think that's because Adam offered to have a drink with him. Alcott can't stand poor Rufus. I can't let Rufus anywhere near my Wizengamot office. Rufus does not need another lecture about how to run the Ministry."

Rachel laughed. "I'm sure Rufus would take it in stride."

"Even so, he shouldn't have to bear it. What order do you want to discuss things in?" Amelia asked. "I'm sorry to rush you, but I have Janice at four."

"That's plenty of time. Stella said there was an update of some kind?" she asked, since whatever the Death Eaters were up to was clearly their biggest issue.

"We caught the person who was posting the scrolls of muggleborn names in Knockturn Alley. His name is Charles Lithbridge. We questioned him extensively, and while he certainly agrees with the Death Eater ideologically, he's not affiliated with them," Amelia summarized.

"Any idea why not?" she checked. "Last I heard, Death Eaters weren't that picky about their recruiting."

"He's a squib."

Ah. That would do it. "What are you planning to do with him?"

"Hold him for a while until we see if any Death Eater attacks are directed at the people on his lists. If not, we'll charge him with incitement to violence, fine him, and release him. If people are killed following his lists, then we'll have to decide which charges we're pursuing."

Rachel nodded. That was probably all that could be done. "Anything about the Death Eaters themselves?"

"Nothing. We're not even certain how many we're looking at. We've placed undercover operatives in an attempt to be recruited by them, but no luck so far. We'll keep trying. In the meantime we've been sending people to homes of muggleborns and assessing their security, but it is slow going," Amelia explained.

"There's something I wanted to ask you that's probably going to sound paranoid," she said, feeling uncomfortable asking, but she knew this was going to be the only way she could manage her upcoming procedure.

"If it has to do with your security, the answer is yes, whatever it is. I've never known you to be paranoid, and you likely ought to be, all things considered," Amelia said, though her tone was not unsympathetic.

"I'm going in for a procedure next week to deal with my shoulder. I'd like it if Auror Tonks was with me while I'm unconscious, just to make sure everything is…" Rachel trailed off, uncertain how to put her concerns.

"I think that's a wise idea. St. Mungo's is a very good hospital, but if you are going to be vulnerable for an extended period of time, I would prefer that you have an auror with you. Let Stella know the dates you need Tonks, and I'll assign her to you," she said, pausing to make a note to herself.

"Hopefully it will just be the one day. I'd prefer to do my recovery at home." Her intent was to be released from the hospital after the procedure.

"Please listen to the Healers. If they say you need more time in their care, then that is what you need. I'm happy to assign a rotation of aurors to guard you while you're in the hospital." Amelia raised her eyebrows at Rachel.

"I'll listen to them, but it's really best for everyone if I'm at home. I have people there who can care for me." Theo was taking a few days off work and Hermione had volunteered to come by to see to Rachel's healing needs. Severus also planned to be there at the hospital with her.

"Well, take as long as you need. Are you intending on being back for the trial in two weeks?"

"I am. I should only be a few days before I'm well enough to come back. What should I know about the trial?" she asked.

"Not much to know. She was found at the scene of the crime. She confessed immediately. It should not be a drawn out trial," Amelia said, shaking her head.

"Did she say why she did it?" Rachel asked.

"She insisted that it had been necessary, that it was the only thing she could do, but wouldn't say more beyond that. I honestly have no idea. They were financially stable. As far as we can tell her husband wasn't mistreating her or the children, and when we asked her, she denied any maltreatment or infidelity. We simply don't know."

"That doesn't make sense. There has to be a reason." People didn't just simply murder their families out of nowhere.

"I have worked in the MLE for a long time. As much as we would like for there always to be an understandable reason that a crime was committed, sometimes there is not. Sometimes people simply do things that defy explanation," Amelia said.

Rachel thought of Tom Riddle killing Myrtle. Could she say that there had been a reason there? She didn't think Tom even genuinely hated muggleborns. "I suppose."

"I believe you wished to speak with me about your proposal," she prompted.

"I do. I hope you've had a chance to look over it, though I completely understand that with the chaos of the past couple of weeks you might not have had time," Rachel said, ready to switch topics as well.

"I've read it, and overall I'm supportive. I think we're going to have a lot of difficulty enforcing this proposal if the statutes within it become law."

She nodded. "I know. There's a lot of complications that come with it. This isn't meant to solve everything, it's meant to take the first steps. I'm hoping that we can bring a slow cultural shift over the next fifty to a hundred years, where we can continue with later legislation to bring more freedoms to House Elves."

"I don't know about that. This may be something that has to change with generations. But I will vote for your proposal, assuming you have the votes for it, and I will encourage the rest of my faction to do the same, though you should talk to Rufus about it as well," Amelia said.

"Thank you. I'm not bringing this before the Wizegnamot until I have the votes. If you could let me know what your faction thinks, that would be helpful." Hopefully with Amelia and Rufus' influence, that should count all six of the Ministry faction votes in her favor.

"I'll keep you informed, but it may be a while before I get to it. Anything else we need to discuss today?"

"Taxes and Francis. He sent a draft to me for comments, and I'm not sure why he wants my comments. I don't know anything about taxes."

Amelia frowned. "He wants to know if he has your faction's support so he doesn't have to withdraw another proposal. That was embarrassing for him, but he should know better."

"I'll have a meeting with Alwen and see if I can get him to explain it to me then. I'm not voting for something I don't understand. Why isn't Francis coordinating with Alwen on this?" Rachel asked.

"I will…I will try to find the time to talk with Francis and see if Rufus or I can reinforce that with him. I haven't had time to look at Francis' latest draft, but I will see what I can do."

"I'm not trying to give you more problems," Rachel said feeling a little guilty.

"No, if someone in my faction is causing problems, then I need to corral them. I will take care of it. You can talk with Alwen in the meantime, so he can explain it to you, but don't say anything about Francis coordinating with him until I've done something about it," Amelia said, jotting another note.

"Thank you, I appreciate that. Anything you need me for?" Rachel asked.

"How long does your recovery from your procedure look like? How limited will you be in mobility? I don't intend to call upon you unless it becomes necessary, but I'd like to know when that would become feasible."

"I'll be in a sling for about two months, but it's not my main casting hand. There will probably be about a week or two after the procedure where I'll be totally useless to you," she admitted.

Amelia shook her head again. "I'm not going to send you into combat in a sling; that's just asking for them to target your injury. Alright. Two months. I'm sure we can manage for that long."

"I could hold off on the procedure," she suggested, hoping Amelia would say yes.

"No, absolutely not. Get yourself sorted out. If you're in combat, I'd rather you had full use of your arms. And we do not know how long this will go on for. Better to do it now while there is a lull in things," she said firmly.

"Alright," Rachel said. She supposed she was going through with this then.

Rachel was using her time for something slightly different today. She was giving her recipes a break so that whatever worked in her mind could go over them in the background and then she'd take a fresh look at them when she came back to work. For now, she had gone into the Department Archives and found a slim volume with the call number that Ezra had told her about. The book was rather battered, so Rachel guessed that Ezra directed any curious Unspeakable to this volume.

The book told the story of a man only referred to as U. E., a former auror and an Unspeakable who worked in the Time group. The tale began in 1941, with an attack by Grindelwald's forces in a village in South Oxfordshire. Forty two people were killed in the attack, including three aurors. U. E. was summoned, and he use a time turner to travel back in time to the beginning of the day, alerted the aurors to an incoming attack, coordinated with the British police to evacuate the village, and then joined the aurors to fight off the Alliance forces, who fled when when they realized they had been routed.

To Rachel, this seemed like exactly the right thing to do. Nearly fifty lives had been saved. An entire village had been saved. The newspaper had reported several large attacks during the war, and this seemed like the perfect way to stop those attacks. Since all of this only took the first chapter of the book, she figured there was more to it than simply the heroic time traveling Unspeakable saved lives and all ended well.

The next chapter told of U. E.'s exploits over the course of the war. He'd saved many lives, and the writer of the book often noted the names of the people he'd saved. U. E. used his time turner several more times in this fashion, though the attack in the first chapter was the biggest attack he averted.

In the next chapter, the first hints of a problem had arrived. Lieutenant Walter Fischer was a rising star in Grindelwald's Alliance and was leading a series of attacks on Britain. It turned out, in averting the attack in 1941, Fischer had survived, when he initially had been one of the casualties. Rachel considered this for a little while, but she didn't think it was really a reason enough to ban time travel interference during wars. That was just battle. Fischer could have easily survived that battle, or another survivor could have taken his place in the hierarchy. It was noted that the British suspected there were time travelers on the other side of the war, as various incidents were not adding up. It was speculated, but not confirmed, that Fischer was time traveling as well.

The next chapter brought them to 1944, in the lead up to the end of the war. They had been trying to assassinate Fischer for nearly a year now and nothing was working. The British couldn't afford to lose more operatives. U. E. volunteered. He would travel his own timeline back to 1941 and kill Fischer in the attack he'd averted. This was by some unnamed method of time travel that the book seemed to assume she would know about. The Minister and Head of the MLE at the time agreed that the situation was dire enough for him to go.

No one knew what happened when U. E. went back to 1941, but it must have been disastrous. Not only did U. E. never return, but his wife no longer recalled marrying him - it was noted that the marriage had taken place late in '41 - and his child did not exist. Then the reports of sudden disappearances started. Over 300 people vanished the day that U. E. traveled back in time to 1941. It didn't take long for the MLE and the Unspeakables to connect those people to lives that U.E. had saved in those four years. Fischer vanished as well, but the damage he'd done remained.

The rest of the book was theories about what had happened when U. E. had gone to 1941 and theories about why those people all vanished in October 1944 instead of vanishing when they would have died. It used a lot of terms Rachel was unfamiliar with, but she got the gist.

She was kind of on the fence about the whole thing. Those people would have died anyway without U. E.'s intervention, so many of them had several more years of life than they otherwise would have. That wasn't nothing. U. E.'s child not existing was unfortunate, but she didn't know that one missing life was a reason not to use time travel. On the other hand, it was easy to see how one small change in the timeline could have big repercussions.

"Ah, you must have found the time room," Cyril said as he approached and nodded at the book on her desk.

"Yeah. Do you think they're right?" she asked.

"About not using time travel during the wars?"

Rachel nodded.

"No, I don't. We can't let one slip-up stop us, not even if it costs lives. Progress will always cost lives. And there were many attacks during the war that they could have averted through the use of time turners," he said, sitting down at her desk.

She wasn't sure she felt quite that way, but she could also recall a number of times where it seemed like it would have been simple to use a time turner to save lives. "I suppose it just seems like a waste."

"Time travel is tricky, I'm not disputing that. But I think it's better for us to harness it, rather than let it sit there only being used for trivial things. The most successful time travel is done when nobody knows about it except the traveler."

"I suppose there's more to it than I know about," she admitted.

"We're not losing you to the Time group, are we?" he asked.

"No, I have no real desire to travel through time." She had enough problems with just taking things day to day.

"Good. Time and Death are the two groups that are likely to get you killed in the Unspeakables. They account for most of our casualties."

"Good to know," she said. She figured she'd stick with potions.

"Alright?" Severus asked.

"So far," Rachel said, though she wasn't thrilled at being in a hospital gown in front of everyone. Severus and Theo had apparated with her to St. Mungo's early this morning and they had met Tonks there. Tonks was looking very official in her MLE robes, and she'd already discussed with the Healers about what to expect during the procedure so there were no misunderstandings.

"We'll be here when you wake up," Theo said, not for the first time

Rachel nodded and took a slow breath through her nose. She wondered if it was too late to call this whole thing off. Probably. She couldn't believe she'd agreed to this. What had she been thinking?

"You're not going to feel anything. You'll be unconscious the entire time," Severus reminded her.

Truthfully, Rachel wasn't thrilled about that either. She'd rather know what was going on. On the other hand, she wasn't sure if she could keep herself still under the pain of them going through her shoulder, regrowing her scapula, and then dealing with the mess she'd made of the tissues and muscles in her shoulder. Unconsciousness was probably the better deal.

"You trust that I'll keep you safe?" Tonks asked, apparently taking in Rachel's worried expression.

"I do." And she did. Tonks had been a good friend for a long time now, and she was a very capable auror.

"Then take a breath. This can't even be in the top five of the scariest things you've done, can it?" Tonks asked, raising her eyebrows.

Rachel considered that for a moment. The top one was probably back in Malfoy Manor, following Lucius Malfoy into the ballroom to where the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters were waiting. Draco had completely redone the interior of Malfoy Manor and that ballroom didn't exist any longer, but there was a new ballroom that looked entirely different on the other side of the manor. He'd also found the secret passageway to the dungeon and had it changed into an open passageway and a wine cellar.

The next one was probably going out to meet the Dark Lord at the end of her seventh year knowing she was going to her death, though the scariest part about that had been having him speak openly in her mind.

Beyond that, there were a lot of scary moments that kind of blurred together, but the main factor had always been that the situation was out of her control. And this was just like that, she was going to be unconscious, except she was voluntarily doing this. That was harder than just suddenly being thrust into an unpredictable situation. She couldn't defend herself here, her wandless and elemental magic were useless to her. Helplessness had never been something that she could feel without being reminded of all sorts of things.

Healer Peterson entered the room with another Healer, both of them in white surgery robes. "Ready, Miss Snow?"

Rachel swallowed. This was it then. "Yes, I'm ready."

"Alright. We'll take you to the room where the procedure will take place. We're going to give you a potion that will make sure you're not going to feel anything. You're going to wake up in this room in about eight hours. Questions?" Healer Peterson asked.

"Is it just a sleeping potion?" she checked.

"No, it's called the Insensibility Potion, which will both put you to sleep and disallow you to have any physical sensation from your body while you are under the potion. It was discovered many years ago that with just a sleeping potion, people would have flashbacks to the pain their bodies experienced while they were unconscious," he explained.

That was good to know. She was glad they were taking that precaution then.

"More questions?" Healer Peterson checked.

"Auror Tonks will be there the whole time?" she asked.

"She will be. We have a viewing space for her. You'll be within her sight for the entire time and she'll be here when you wake up."

Rachel nodded. She supposed she'd just have to trust them. And she did trust Tonks. "Alright. I guess I'm ready." As ready as she could figure out how to be.

"Go ahead and lie down, we're going to take you on this bed," he said.

Everyone moved themselves out of the way and Rachel laid down and tried not to bite her lips as she was maneuvered out of the room. A short trip later and they were in the surgery. There were three more Healers there, who quickly introduced themselves.

"I'm right here," Tonks told Rachel once she was directed to a place where she could stand without being in the Healers' way.

"Thank you," Rachel said, getting a good look at her.

"You're going to drink this potion, then you'll feel sleepy. The next thing you know, you're going to wake back up in the room with your family," Healer Peterson said, handing her a small vial of a light blue potion.

Rachel took it before she could talk herself out of it. She laid back down as she felt a rush of exhaustion roll over her, and then pain in her chest as she struggled against being forced to go to sleep. She hated this feeling, it felt like she was being crushed and was exactly why she didn't take standard sleeping potions. With one last gasp for air, darkness overcame her.

"There you are."

She felt weird. Something was wrong with her shoulder and she felt weird. She managed to open her eyes. "Severus?"

"Right here," he said. "Can you look at me?"

Realizing that she'd closed her eyes again, Rachel opened them and found Severus at her bedside. "What happened?"

"You had a procedure on your shoulder. Do you remember coming to the hospital this morning?" he asked.

She remembered a pain in her chest. And maybe she remembered the hospital. "Theo?"

"I'm here. And Tonks is at the foot of your bed. She's been with you the whole time," he said, stepping into view.

Rachel blinked a few times. "My shoulder."

"Don't try to move it," Severus warned.

She wasn't even sure that she could move it. It felt…large, for some reason.

"You're going to feel groggy for a little bit, that's just a side effect of the potion. Let us know when you want to try to sit up," Severus said.

That wasn't going to happen any time soon. She wanted to go back to sleep. "Can I go back to sleep?"

"Yes. This is the third time you've woken up. You can go back to sleep again," Theo said.

Rachel didn't remember that, but things felt very fuzzy at the moment. She closed her eyes again and let sleep reclaim her.