Foreshadowing the Past

Prologue

Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.
--Percy Bysshe Shelley

"Grandma, will you tie my shoes?"

Molly looked down at little Connor, who was sitting on the floor and holding one of his feet into the air, and sighed happily. All of the children were growing up so fast! It was hard to believe that this little boy was already almost six years old! Life had rewarded her family well, and she wished with a pang that Arthur could have lived to see it.

She knelt down beside her grandson with a smile, ruffling his mop of black hair before she took the laces in hand, and manually tied them while he watched the process, his serious green eyes taking in every step. He had been trying to learn to tie his own shoes over the past month, but had not yet mastered the chore. He soon became frustrated with her slow methodical tying when she reached the second shoe, and wriggled impatiently, urging her to hurry.

"Grandma!" he said, drawing the last syllable out for an extra beat. "They're going to start without me!"

Molly chuckled and finished the bow. "There you are, sweetheart. All done!"

Connor jumped to his feet and grabbed his broomstick, looking like a miniature version of his father, and headed straight for the door. His little hand was on the handle, and Molly cringed, waiting for the door to be flung wide and slam into the wall as the child exited, but the crash never came. Instead Connor had frozen in place and announced, "Auntie Hermione is going to have another baby."

Molly was startled by this news and asked, "She is?" She felt slightly hurt that Connor would have known such happy news before her. She waved that bit of dented pride away, thinking that he must have overheard Ron telling his father about it, or some such thing.

"Uh-huh," he nodded. "A girl one."

"How on earth do you know that?" Molly asked with surprise. Ron and Hermione had not wanted to know the baby's gender for the last two pregnancies; why would they break with tradition this time?

Conner shrugged and then flung the door wide with a crash and ran to join his cousins in the garden. The children had organized a game of Shuntbumps, and were busily preparing to try to knock each other off of their brooms with padded "lances" that Bill and Charlie had devised for them. Molly stepped onto the porch of the Burrow to take in the scene. It was turning out to be a beautiful warm June day, and perfect for celebrating the eleventh birthday of her oldest Grandchild, Sarah. She would be the first of the newest generation of Weasleys to attend Hogwarts in two and a half months time, and Bill and Fleur were as proud as any parents could be. The family was scattered all around the garden, enjoying the day and each other's company.

Molly spotted Percy and his wife, Susan sitting in the shade with their three-month-old Judith asleep on a blanket beside her two year old cousin Matthew, who was Charlie and Brianna's youngest. Brianna and Susan chatted quietly while their children napped, and Percy was looking on with concern as his three-year-old son, Brian, rode the toy broomstick with reckless abandon. Fred was sitting at a table with his wife Catherine, Ginny, George's wife, Zoë, and Bill and Fleur. It was easy for Molly to tell her twins apart since George had lost his left arm during the attack that had taken their father from them. That had been many years ago, now, but she could still feel the lump form in her throat when she thought of it.

Pushing the sad thoughts away, Molly scanned the rlative chaos of the game going on in front of her. Harry, Ron, Charlie and George were all supervising the children on broomsticks, making sure that older kids weren't too rough with the younger ones, and scooping the unseated players out of harm's way in good time. There were shrieks of laughter and snippets of conversation all around her, and Molly was filled with peace and contentment. She had all of her children safe, and they had married well and had produced seventeen grandchildren for her to dote on. If she heeded Connor's announcement of a few minutes ago, that number was going to increase by one in the next few months.

Molly spotted Hermione filling drink cups and standing beside Ron, and decided to go and congratulate her on her news.

"They're going to all end up in St. Mungo's at this rate," Hermione said with a laugh as she watched Connor attempt to make his toy broomstick speed up. "He's definitely one of Harry's!"

"He's got just as much Weasley blood," Ron grinned as he watched his Rachel surreptitiously grab the tail of Connor's broom and give it a tug. Connor reached back and made a swipe at the long red plaits that hung from his cousin's head, but she was too quick. The two were only a year apart, with Connor in the lead, and they were fiercely competitive.

"Hermione!" Molly smiled as she wove her way around the kids. "I hear that you're going to have a new addition to your family!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Mum," Ron smiled, "But I think you heard wrong."

"Actually," Hermione blushed. "She didn't. I don't know how you heard, though, as I just found out myself this morning! I'm due in January."

"We're having another baby?" Ron shouted.

There was a moment of silence all around, which was suddenly broken by cheers from all sides. A grin broke out on Ron's face, and Hermione nodded and stepped into her husband's happy embrace.

"How did you know, Molly?" Hermione asked. "I haven't told anyone."

"Connor told me," Molly answered with her brow furrowed.

"Connor!" Ron called the boy over, and attracted the attention of his parents, who headed over to see what the problem was.

Conner rode his broom over and hovered on it at about waist level to the adults.

"How did you know I was going to have a baby?" Hermione asked him gently.

Harry and Ginny looked at each other warily before turning their attention to their son. Connor shrugged his shoulders and said unconcernedly, "Dunno. She's going to have one too!" He pointed to the table that Ginny had just left, Straight at George's wife, Zoë.

Zoë held her hand up in front of her and said with a laugh, "I don't think so," when all eyes turned to her.

"Uh-huh!" Connor contradicted firmly, as if it was absurd that she would contradict him. "A girl one, just like Auntie Hermione!"

"Sorry kid," George said, scooping him up off of the broom expertly in his one arm. "But if Zoë says she's not having another baby, there's not much else to argue about."

"I told you, she's going to have a girl!" Connor insisted. He rolled his eyes at them in a manner that belied his six and a half years that told them all that he thought they were being dim-witted.

"Is it possible, Zoë?" Ginny asked cautiously.

"Anything's possible," Zoë laud. "But as great as that would be, unless it's happened in the last three weeks, I wouldn't count on it."

"Look," Hermione said with an amused grin, "There's one logical way to settle this." She walked over to Zoë and asked, "Do you mind if I check?"

Zoë rolled her eyes as well and said, "Why not?" George set Connor on his feet and walked over to stand beside his wife, an amused smile on his lips.

Ginny and Harry's eyes met again, and they both stood beside a bored looking Connor while they watched Hermione mutter a soft incantation under her breath, and hold her wand in front of Zoë's flat stomach. When her want lit with a blue glow that indicated a positive resse, everyone gasped, and Harry put a hand on his son's shoulder in a protective gesture.

"I told you so," Connor said, when everyone looked back to him.

George was now kneeling in front of his wife, and they both looked stunned, but pleased with what they had just learned. Their four and a half year old daughter jumped off of her little broom and ran over and asked, "Is mummy really going to have a baby?"

"It looks that way," George grinned, putting his arm around her.

Molly hadn't missed the looks that had passed between Ginny and Harry, or the way they flanked their son as his predictions were proven to be true. As their twins, Lucy and Ian, ran over to see what was keeping their big brother out of the game, Ginny told Connor to go ahead and get back to playing while the adults all gathered around the table for an impromptu family meeting.

"All right, you two," Ron said without preamble once they were all grouped together. "Spill it."

Harry sighed, and pulled off his glasses to rub tiredly at his eyes. Ginny put an arm around him and checked behind her to make sure that none of the children were paying too much attention. "Connor has been making predictions about little things for about a month now," she said quietly. "At first we thought it was just coincidence, but now we're not so sure."

Harry replaced his glasses and added, "Little things, like Ginny's bracelet falling behind the sofa, and Lucy's Puffskein hiding in the flour canister. Last week he told me that Uncle Fred was coming, and about five minutes later, Fred Apparated into our front garden. Any of that could be chalked up to clever observation or coincidence. But there's been other things too, that have been making us question that."

"Like what?" Hermione asked, fascinated by this turn of events.

"He knew that Harry was going to get a raise in pay the day before it happened," Ginny explained, "And when we took him into Flourish and Blots the other day, he told Mrs. Diggory that book she was planning to buy was missing some pages in the middle. When she checked, pages 214 through 222 were blank."

The rest of the family was staring at Ginny and Harry with varying degrees of shock and disbelief on their faces.

"Have you asked anyone about this?" Bill asked. "Taken him to St. Mungo's?'

"He's not sick!" Ginny answered tersely.

"Of course not, dear," Molly immediately answered soothingly. "No one's saying that. But if Connor is showing signs of being a seer, shouldn't he be tested?"

"By whom?" Ginny asked. "I don't want him to be labeled by some researcher and made into a spectacle. He's not even six years old yet, and he's already got to live with the fact that he's Harry Potter's son."

Harry comforted Ginny, and said, "I've already sent a letter to Dumbledore, asking his advice. We'll be better able to make some sort of decision once we hear what he recommends. Until then, we're just going to wait and see what happens. What he's doing doesn't seem like prophecy making to me, but more like having premonitions. We might not have to do anything at all about it."

No one was very convinced by Harry's last statement, but there really wasn't anything more they could say, and so they focused on the good news of the day, and celebrated the birthday that they had all gathered for, and the newest additions to the Weasley family that were on the way.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The reply from Dumbledore came three days later. He was abroad just then, but had asked a good friend of his by the name of Amelia MacTaggart, who was particularly versed in forms of Divination, to come and evaluate Connor's talent. Harry was reminded forcefully of Professor McGonagall when she first arrived on their doorstep only two days later. She wore her hair in a similar style to his old transfiguration teacher, and wore similar spectacles, but that was where the similarities ended. Once she was introduced to Connor, her severe manner evaporated, and she smiled warmly at him. She asked to be left alone with him for a couple of hours, and when they emerged from their meeting, they both wore smiles and seemed to be comfortable in each other's company. She sent him off to play with his brother and sister before preparing to talk to his parents, who were obviously anxious. Connor's father had experience with prophecies in the past, as was well known in the Wizarding world, and she was sure he was wondering what all of these things happening with is son meant.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Potter," she began. They were seated at their kitchen table, having tea while they discussed Connor. "Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, and I can see why. Connor is a delightful boy. I've spoken with him, and used a few small spells and charms on him to try to ascertain the extent of his abilities to date. He's a clever child for his age, and we got on very nicely; you should be very proud of him, indeed."

"We are," Ginny assured her. "He's a joy to be around."

"That he is," Mrs. MacTaggart agreed. "I want to put your mind at rest straight away. I do not think that Connor is a seer in the strictest sense of the word. He is making predictions, certainly, but I don't believe that he is going to be making any prophecies."

"What exactly is the difference between a prediction and a prophecy?" Harry asked with relief evident in his voice. He did not want his son to be a seer; his own connection with two separate prophecies almost twenty years ago had turned his life upside down, and he was not comfortable with the idea that his oldest son might one day speak the words that would rule another person's life in the future.

"For the most part, prophecies tend to deal mostly with major historical events. The seer will usually deliver a prophecy from a trance-like state, and it will often come in the form of a riddle to be solved, or be open to different interpretations. They often aren't aware of what they've said during the delivery, and would need a witness to record it." She paused to let this information sink in. She had given them a very simplified explanation of a very complicated subject, but they really didn't need to be bored to tears over her research. "What Connor is doing is making clairvoyant predictions. Generally they are about things in the present, like finding lost objects and that sort of thing, sometimes the past, or events that will occur not very far into the future. He doesn't enter a trance-like state to receive the information, though he may pause from time to time as he absorbs the new knowledge. He's actually one of the most perceptive clairvoyants that I've ever encountered, having seemingly dozens small revelations a day, though that could be down to his youth, and the openness of his mind. He probably doesn't even recognize that it's happening for the most part, and just finds that the information is suddenly in his mind, where it wasn't before; like his knowledge of your sister-in-law's pregnancy before she even knew it herself."

"So what should we do about it?" Ginny asked, trying to understand that this woman had just told her that Connor was experiencing dozens of clairvoyant events every day. "Will he need special schooling or training of some sort?"

"No, no!" Amelia assured her firmly. "Not at all. Just do as you have been doing, and continue to raise your son to be happy and healthy. He will learn to recognize these little visions for what they are in time, and will most likely cope with them in stride. I would suggest keeping an eye on him so that he doesn't depend on the information he 'receives' as absolute truth, and to protect him from anyone who might try to exploit him for his abilities. Only time will tell as to whether or not he will eventually be able to control his talent and to channel it toward specific demands or come up with answers to specific questions."

"So we do... nothing?" Harry asked with surprise.

"Encourage him to use discretion, especially as he grows older, and keep an eye out for signs of anyone trying to use him and his abilities for personal gain. You two are doing a wonderful job as parents, and it shows through Connor. All you have to do is keep up the good work." She answered warmly. "Has either of your twins exhibited signs of having a similar talent?"

"No," Ginny answered. "Is it likely that they will?"

"Not particularly," Amelia smiled. "However it would have been fascinating for my research! Feel free to contact me if Connor develops any other talents in this area, or if you have any concerns."

"Thank you." Harry and Ginny saw their guest to the door, relieved and concerned at the same time with what they had learned.

"Don't mention it," she smiled. Before she Apparated away, she smiled mischievously at the couple before her and said, "Oh! And according to Connor, congratulations are in order for the two of you as well!"

She chuckled at their stunned looks of dawning comprehension before disappearing with a pop.

End Prologue