Domino One

And as always, this fic is dedicated to everyone from the RPG, but especially Ashley and Ola. Ola, you’re the best, and no opinion comes before yours in regards to the fic. Thanks for reviewing and keeping me updated on your story. I hope finals go well. And Ashely- save me a piece of wedding cake! Congrats, and blessings on you and your husband-to-be.

Enjoy everyone!

* * * * *

Chapter 11

"Lesser Mortals"

by Sine Nomine

"No up, no down in the evening sky.

It is endless. Do you know why

You blandly look on men and kings

And sadly upon happy things?

Heaven and Earth cannot abide.

The normal rules do not apply."

Kezia stood in the most secret place in the entire world, her arms folded around her as she gazed upon the altars of the Guardians, seven of them, circling the crystal sanctuary of LebabTower. Her own stood before her, glittering in amethyst and diamond as it rose to meet the heights of the distant ceiling, but falling far reaching even half way. A magnificent sculpted angel stood upon it, radiating warmth and beauty, though made largely of unmeltingice. Its left arm swooped down to embrace the soft grey stone statue of a child who held a bouquet of flowers as no one on Earth had ever seen. The angels right hand reached out to Kezia, though she supposed it would reach out to anyone who stood in its path. After all, as was the dictum of the DevinonLys Ome, the name of the purple-eyed Guardian, "Nja ha devinoxø sammyr." `Let not the smallest pieces of heaven beforgotten.´

Her eyes turned to view the rest of the room, the six other altars, placed in their particular order. To her left was an altar of black stone, a dark figure with the stars of the evening gleaming from its masking veil. Passed that, an altar of gleaming, crystal clear amber, highlighted with swirls of gold that increased the majesty of the figure of a great knight holding a greater shield. Then the altar of a crystal of the deepest brown; a great lion, with fire and bronze in its main, perched on a rock with watchfulness and might. Further around the round tower stood the green figure of a tree, each individual leaf made of individually unique emerald and ice. Then, at the head of the round room, a great altar of silver, intricately mixed with platinum, steel, diamond, white marble and ice: a second great knight, this one kneeling and honoring a brilliant, shining sword of glass before those who gazed upon it.

Finally, her eyes roamed to the end of the circle, the statue that was placed between her own and Kasek´s. Hardly an end to the ring, but to an altar that definitely stood out among the rest in the gleaming white room: a gleaming sapphire and topaz figure of a butterfly perched upon a great hour glass with snow as white as unicorn tail frozen from falling three quarters of the way through. And in the diamond plating of the hour glass was written the motto of the Devinon Seeleum. "Vin sayon, vine ne ceradęev hyn;" "See in time what has been missed for eternity."

Kezia´s eyes wandered to the list of the past Devinon Seeleums, beautifully etched on a pillar behind the alter. Names known to every seer - Josiah v. Anblick, Katrina v. Anblick, Margareta v. Anblick, Japheth Anblick, Analeise Anblick... Omri Anblick - covered the pillar, stretching down to the altar. More names from a single family than any other. And Ana would be the last.

"They always were the greatest," said a clear and firm voice from behind her. Kezia needed not to turn around. The voice continued. "The best Guardians - the very best Guardians - never came close to what the Anblicks accomplished."

"Yes, but you must remember, Kasek," Kezia answered, "that hardly any of them were part of a completed circle."

There was a moment of silence before Kasek sat at the round table in the middle of the room, before his great silver altar. "How is she?"

"Better," she sighed. "For a while I thought we were going to lose her. These attacks are taking their toll on her. And what makes it worse is that I cannot say for certain that no other attack will happen."

"Nor can the entire Circle," replied Kasek, resting his head on the back of the high-backed marble chair.

"The stars are hiding something from us," muttered Kezia angrily, her face twisted in comparison to the amethyst angel behind her.

"Peace, Kezia," said Kasek solemnly. "For there will be a time in the near future, when there will be nothing that the stars can hide from our eyes." He paused to meet her eyes, his silver eyes piercingly cold. "But you must be careful. There is much that the young True Seer must know." He looked at her firmer. "You know of what I speak."

Kezia lowered her eyes quickly. "I do."

"Then I hope, young one, that you know what you are doing. For fault will be found with you, if things do not happen as we plan."

* * * * *

Ana stood on the castle steps, watching the carriages arrive with students on the first day of September. True, it was evening upon their arrival, and the sun had just set, but that didn´t change the fact that it was the warmest autumn in nearly a decade. Professor McGonagall, who was pacing at the bottom of the steps waved a charmed fan in front of her face and Professor Sprout, the new Herbologyprofessor, placed Abominable Snow Plants around the castle to try to provide relief from the heat. But Ana shivered as she watched the black carriages approaching rapidly, seeming to carry the shadows from the outside world with them. For reasons beyond her knowledge, she stepped behind a statue on the front stairway, partially hiding her from plain sight.

She had felt the chill from the day after the attack. For a long while, she refused to use her powers, or attempted at such, simply to fight of the darkness that she could feel in every ounce of her being. She could hardly look at James without trembling, though he had long recovered from the attack. And not even Remus could give her solace. Nothing helped. To make matters worse, even trying not to use her powers resulted in the powers taking over. There was no dreamless sleep, even with a potion. There was no escaping visions, waking or sleeping. And, though her dreams of Voldemort were dying away, she always was ready to find him around every dark corner of the castle.

But the sands of time did not stop, even for the worries of a young Guardian. Classes were beginning once again, and this year would be as studious as ever. Though Ana had caught up on her work over the summer, she was now a full time student, with extra potions classes. Professor Stikupas, who was quite impressed with the extraordinary presentation Snapeand she gave on the Hiligea-Wazer Potion (-a fundamental, yet complicated potion known for its resistant and reversing affects to poisons and potions), immediately assigned her to Potions VI, an independent study with Snape, and Pre-Alchemy. Professor Pyrre and he battled continuously over how she should be spending her time, as she was training to be a Guardian. Professor Stickupas plainly told Professor Pyrre to go stuff a crystal ball up her you-know-what and that he was not willing to compromise in any way to give up the best Potions student he had ever had. Hence the problem was solved, at least in his mind.

Ana was actually pleased with this new development. Since that summer, she had quite felt like she was free falling into a strange, cold world. She appreciated the break into something logical, where rules were predetermined. But Potions class proved to be an inadequate parachute, for not even that could stop her from seeing the world as it was. For like potions, the world had its ways and its rules, many of which could not be broken.

She smoothed her Hogwarts robes nervously as the black carriages approached. A dimming light from the doorway made her look up and see Professor Dumbledore looking on thoughtfully. She smiled slightly. She knew that he knew nothings of the feelings she had, and she was grateful. `Maybe,´ she thought, `just maybe, this is the once true source of goodness in the world.´

Dumbledore looked at her, and his eyes sparkled. "Ah, now there´s a sight we have not seen for quite some time," he smiled through his bearded-moustache. "It is good to see your smile again." Ana couldn´t help but smile broader. They both watched the carriages traveling through the evening in silence until they arrived before they castle. Ana immediately knew through powers beyond comprehension, which carriage carried her friends, and she watched them emerge. Remus saw her first, smiling and holding up a bouquet of white roses.

Dumbledore looked at her, a small hint of nostalgia behind his bright blue eyes, and nudged her with his elderly elbow. "It would appear that no matter what happens, great things can come out of the darkest of times."

Ana nodded, smiling at Remus, who was pushing his way through the crowds, his prefect pin glittering as he entered the light of the castle. "It would appear so."

At that moment, Remus found a break in the droves of students, and skirted up the stairs to meet her. "I have returned," he said in what Ana had deemed his "deep, manly" voice, and Ana couldn´t help but laugh. He presented her with flowers, which she took as he kissed her gently. In effort to wrap her hands around his neck, she accidentally passed off the flowers to nearby onlooker. He gasped audibly.

"She gave me flowers!" came the voice near them.

Ana was so startled she jumped back to see James cradling the flowers like a baby as Sirius cracked up behind them.

"Ana!" he breathed with amusing awe, "I had no idea that you felt this way!" Wiping away an imaginary tear, he immediately lunged into her arms (being careful not to crush the roses) and started sobbing loudly into her shoulder (which actually made Sirius tear up in his laughter). "I LOVE YOU TOO ANA!" he wailed through sobs.

"I´m sorry?" came Lily´s voice through the raucous. "Did I miss something?" she asked, her face contorted between laughing and any of her attempts to frown. "Ana, you had better get your hands off my man!" she said, unable to avoid cracking up.

Ana grinned as she wrapped her arms around James´s sobbing head lovingly. "You´re man? Lily, you must be quite mistaken; for I highly doubt that there is a man worth stealing within miles of here."

Lily giggled. "Yes, perhaps, dear Ana. We´ll just have to stick together, won´t we?" At this, she extended her elbow, which Ana took willingly, after dumping James into Remus´s open arms. They stepped towards the doorway.

"You boys coming?" Ana called back.

"Why?" sniffed James with mock insult. "To be insulted some more?"

"Well, yes, naturally," agreed Ana, "but moreso to be in our company!"

The boys looked at each other blankly.

"There´ll be food!" grinned Lily.

At this, all four sprang from their spots and into the glowing castle, leaving Ana and Lily as the few left behind.

"Guess its right what they say about men´s hearts and food," commented Lily.

Ana smiled, as she felt her back chill against the dark night. She stepped through the door willingly, happily embracing normalness of life for as long as she could.

* * * * *

James actually knew Remus casually before either of them arrived at Hogwarts. Perhaps to say that he 'knew' him would be slightly exaggerating, but they certainly had seen each other before. The Department of Magical Security sponsored a series of picnics for the Aurors and their families in thanks for their "immeasurable service to their country." Once a year, and usually in the Summer, Aurors from grouped counties would join together and spend a day relaxing and spending time with family and friends. Though James and Remus lived quite a distance from each other, their Aurorfathers were put in the same group, and thus, they shared the same picnic.

The AurorPicnics were always great fun. Each family brought more food than necessary, resulting in a smorgasbord of phenomenal proportions. James never did get to try everything he wanted to- he always stuffed his small, wirey frame to the absolute brim before he even covered half of the food selections. Then there were plenty of other children there from all different age groups. -All age groups, as James quickly learned, except his own. There always seemed to be lots of people one year older than he, and several more one year younger, and the only person that was his age was a girl by the name of Suzanne Simfry. It was the case every year, including the particular year of this story, when James was at the wise age of nine. No nine year old wants to hang out with someone younger than he, and no nine year old boy is ever willing to hang out with a girl. Consequently, James found himself in the position where he was forced to hang out with the eight year olds, which he did so cheerfully, but always waiting for the year when he was considered old enough to hang out with the ten year olds, or, stars willing, the Hogwarts students.

But there was one other boy. James had spent a lot of time studying the boy in past years (as he was at every picnic), merely because it was rumored that he didn't speak. He seemed to sit close to his mother's side, silently observing the picnic table at which he sat with dull interest. He never rose his eyes to the other children, and the other children, James included, didn't go near him. Some of the children were told by stern parents to stay away from the boy. Others had no idea why, and followed the lead of their friends. James, never really understanding this phenomenon, didn't push the issue. The boy looked normal, but there was something definitely very odd about him. Though it wasn´t spoken, all the children knew or believed as James did, whether they chose to covertly persecute the boy, or simply (but blatantly) ignore him.

As one particular picnic wore on, James noticed that the coolest children were the first to leave ( -this seemed to be the case every year). By the time the last hour arrived, he was left with slim pickings for sources of entertainment. A number of girls were sending him devilish girly glances from a huddle not too far off, making James very wary indeed. As he looked around, the only person who seemed to be of any interest was the small, hazel-eyed boy who never spoke. Scratching his messy black-haired head with boredom, he studied the boy diligently as he leaned on a secluded oak tree. His chin was rested on his neatly folded arms wearily as he gazed at the red picnic table. Every once and a while, he would dig the toe of his shoe into the ground underneath the picnic table dully, as his mother, close at his side, picked at a plate of food. And if anything was obvious about the boy who didn´t talk, it was certainly that he was very bored indeed.

Abandoning his tree, James walked up to his father who was sitting at a table with a bunch of men, discussing the latest news of "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" -the newest and most evil dark wizard to take power since any, even the eldest, could remember. Walking as silently as he could, he listened with all his might for the name of this dark wizard. His mother had firmly told him that it was not proper to speak his name. It was rumored by a smarmy ten year old by the name of Stephanie McPherson, who overheard a secret meeting (which James doubted was a meeting at all, let alone secret), that the dark wizard's name was "Lord Moldy Warts." James put little faith in this information.

James regarded his father as he sat solemnly in his seat, holding a quiet aura of power that no one else seemed to exude. He did not speak during the argument that pursued, just sat silently, listening and observing, as if he was putting a puzzle together in his mind. James knew, as he watched, that when he grew up, he wanted to be just like his father.

"Dad," he whispered as he tugged as his father's sleeve gently. Immediately, and without a thought, James's father turned to him, ignoring the ongoing conversation at the table. "Who's that over there?" James asked, pointing to the young boy who sat at a picnic table not too far from them, seemingly ignoring everything around him.

James's father's deep brown eyes trailed along the invisible path his son had drawn to the boy. For a moment, James thought he saw a look of concern in his eyes, but it vanished as he turned back to him. "Why don't you ask him?" he asked encouragingly.

James shifted uneasily. "But, he doesn't talk... all the kids say he's different, or something...."

"The kids also say that before you can be sorted at Hogwarts, you have to spend a night in the ForbiddenForest."

"It's not true, then?" asked James with visible relief.

His father gave him an amused look. "Not yet, anyway. Go talk to the boy, James. He talks. I've heard him speak."

"But, why is he sitting all by himself? What's different about him?"

"Different?" his father replied glancing at the boy appraisingly. "The only thing that's a bit odd about him that I can see is that he doesn't seem to have many friends, now does he?"

"But why doesn't he have any friends, dad?" said James impatiently.

His father turned to his son more fully. "James, I want you to listen to me very carefully, because what I am about to tell you will be very hard to understand. It's a grown-up thing I´m going to teach you, but I think you're ready to understand, right?"

"Yes, sir," said James, listening carefully and earnestly as he stood up a little straighter at the prospect of being treated like a grown-up.

"You like your mother's potato soup, right?"

James nodded.

"And you've seen a potato? Straight out of the ground?"

He thought for a moment. "Yes," replied James carefully, wondering if this was a trick question.

"So, you've seen its gritty, thick skin, eyes, and roots growing out of it?"

"Yes, mum makes me pick them for her from the garden!"

"And you still want to eat it? Didn't it look frightful?" he asked, his face contorted into a disgusted grimace.

"Well, after it's cooked and cleaned, it tastes fine!" laughed James.

"But say you had never eaten one before. Would you believe me if I told you that they make the best soup in the world? Say you saw it, roots and dirt and all, and I told you that we were going to eat it. Would you be excited?"

James thought for a moment. It wasn't an easy thought to comprehend. "I guess not... But I know that they taste good! We make them all the time!"

"What if you had refused to ever try them, just by looking?"

"Then I'd be missing out!"

His father smirked. Putting an arm around his boy, he turned him to look at the silent boy. "What do you suppose he's like?"

"He looks quiet."

"Yes, perhaps. But potatoes look odd at first sight. You never know. You could be missing out."

"I should go try, then?"

His father looked at him thoughtfully. "You hardly need a lesson in this. You already seem to know what you're talking about!" When James gave him a dubious look, he continued. "The point I'm trying to make is that no one is going to be exactly the same as you. Some people are going to look different, some are going to act different, and some people are going to have differences that you're never going to be able to see. Lots of times people will say that you shouldn't talk to someone because he's different. But how are you going to know for sure?"

James looked at his father for a moment before he walked away without answering. Nervously, he weaved his way through the tables, finding his way to the quiet boy who took no notice of his approach. Even his mother, who was busy digging through her enormous handbag, didn´t seem to notice. James stood on the other side of the table, regarding the boy in front of him (if just the top of his sunken head) quietly. The boy looked up, wearing a look as if someone was watching him. James was met with two large, hazel eyes.

"Umm... hello," said James nervously. "I'm James. What's your name?"

The boy's mother had stopped her shuffling to watch James speaking to her son curiously. She studied James for a moment with extreme suspicion until her eyes softened and she glanced at her son expectantly. The boy had shrunken back slightly and his eyes widened slightly, as if he was afraid James would throw a sludge frog at him.

"I think he's talking to you, love," his mother whispered. Meanwhile, James felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. Turning, he found Mrs. Simfry, Suzanne Simfry´s obnoxiously match-making mother, bent low to speak in his ear.

"James, I don't think your father would want you talking to that boy. Why don't you go play with Suzanne?"

"But he told me to!" insisted James defensively. Mrs. Simfry straightened up to get a better view of Mr. Potter, still seated at the picnic table not to far from the scene. He was watching them with calm curiosity as Mrs. Simfry waved him over urgently. Even James's mum, sitting halfway across the grounds immediately noticed, stood swiftly, and approached.

Mrs. Simfry held her head up authoritatively as the two adults approached. Sending a quick glance at the young boy at the table, she muttered in hushed tones, "I'll have you know I just stopped James from consorting with the Lupin boy."

James's mother dropped her jaw. "And why on earth did you do that?"

Mrs. Simfry smiled knowingly. "Oh you don't know? Well, perhaps we shouldn't talk about it in front of the -"

"- In front of the what," snapped a voice from behind them. Mrs. Lupin was standing, her eyes nearly glowing with maternal anger as she glared down Mrs. Simfry.

"Madeline-" started James's father with diplomatic warning.

Her glare jerked to meet his dark eyes. After a moment of silence, she turned to her ever-quiet son, who watched wide-eyed from the picnic bench next to her. In a very controlled manner, she bent down and whispered something in his ear. James was the only one close enough to catch her words. "Remmy, go to the gates, and wait for me there. I'll be just a minute."

The boy hung his head as he stood and walked away swiftly. James watched, wide-eyed, as his mother rounded the table with very direct and overly-composed motions. She moved to within inches of the now visibly nervous Mrs. Simfry, and spoke so softly that James had to take a step closer to hear.

"I have had just about enough of this, Jaqueline. If I ever see you near my boy, hear you talking about my boy, see you talking about my boy, SENSE that you're talking about my boy in any way but the way you would want yourself talked about, I swear by all that's good in the world that I'll-"

James felt a hand on his shoulder, breaking his concentration. Turning, he found his mother looking at him pointedly. She guided him away, though he turned his head to try to get a sense of what would happen, but his mother blocked his view. Some distance off, she stopped, and pointed to a tree by the gates. It took James a minute to see what she was pointing at, but eventually he saw it- a corner of an elbow was peaking out slightly from the back of the tree.

"Let's go talk to him," she smiled down at her son, her wavy black hair spilling out of the bun it had been so neatly arranged in that morning. James walked a ways with his mother until he stopped short.

"Mum," he said quietly. "I'll go. Just me."

His mother regarded him for a moment before a wide smile spread across her narrow face. "I'll be right over there, if you need me," she said, pointing to a table not to far from the tree. She kissed his forehead and walked away quietly. James looked around to see if anyone saw the kiss as he frantically wiped his forehead down with his robe sleeve. Turning back to the tree, he approached it slowly. A small form of a boy appeared gradually as he rounded the trunk until he was in full view. The boy looked up quickly and wide eyed. Then he looked around James's legs in search of someone else.

"You're mum's still back there," mentioned James. "She'll come in a minute."

The young boy stood, his own eyes falling an inch or two below James's. James always would be taller. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he looked at him expectantly.

James shifted nervously. "You know, it's really a bit creepy when you don't say anything... maybe the other kids would talk to you if would talk back."

The boy frowned and regarded him for a moment. "Not likely," he said, sounding much older than he looked.

"Ah, so you can talk!" muttered James with half-hearted enthusiasm.

"And you don't stop," snipped the boy.

James grinned, not at all deterred. "Or it could be your bad manners that scares them away..."

"Well I´m not sure your glasses are doing you much good," smirked the boy, folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh," laughed James, as he took off his glasses, "these? I don't need 'em. My mum makes me wear them."

"Hand them here, then," challenged the boy. James did so offeringly. He couldn't see much through his blurred vision. What he did see was the strange boy wind up his arm and throw them into the adjacent field- so far that they died into the blurry fog. "Go find them, then!"

James looked in the direction his glasses went for a weary moment until he turned to the young boy. He could see his smirk quite clearly through the blur. It wasn't a smarmy smirk, but one of suppressed laughter. "You're trying to get rid of me," said James, stating the obvious.

"And whatever kids sent you," nodded the boy.

James frowned at him (or rather, in his general direction). "Nobody sent me," he muttered. "You just always sit by yourself, so I thought I would talk to you."

The boy smirked, this time with darkness behind his eyes. "Even with what I am?"

"What you are? What are you, then?" asked James, squinting out towards the blurry field. "Besides the git who lost my glasses." When the boy didn't answer, James turned to face him. The young boy was regarding him quietly. "What?" muttered James.

The boy was very silent for a moment. "You don't know?" he asked quietly, his voice softening a bit.

"Know what?"

The boy was silent for another moment, studying James with scrutinizing eyes. Finally, he spoke with extreme caution. "Nothing... I guess...."

James frowned and turned back to the field. He couldn't help but notice through the blurriness that it looked darker than usual. Off to his side, he heard the young boy speak under his breath. "Bloody Hell!"

James turned to him. "What now?" He could see the boy backing up slowly, pointing at the dark field in disbelief. "Smoke..." he breathed. Then louder, "Oh... dear.... fire!" James looked back at the field to see patches of fire springing up on the dry grass of the pasture.

"FIRE!" exclaimed James at the top of his voice as he felt the boy grab at his robes and yank him back to camp. As quickly as the wildfire spread, the aurors present dashed for the field, their wands extended, shouting water charms in a frenzy as the blaze stretched with the breeze. James and the boy sat on a picnic table and watched, their mouths dangling open in horror.

"I can't see a thing!" snapped James. "What's going on?"

The boy spoke slowly. "The aurors are controlling the fire... it's pretty much out... they're looking for something."

"Probably what started the fire," added James smartly.

"They've found something! It's... it's... oh... oh no!"

"What!"

"It's your glasses!"

James didn't need his eyewear to see the a group of Auror's approaching them, led by his parents. He shrunk down as far as he could, being seated on top of the picnic table.

"JAMES FRANCIS POTTER!" snapped James's mother as she approached, his glasses clenched in her hand. "Explain yourself!"

"What!" he cried out. "What did I do?"

"Nearly set fire to the whole picnic, that's what!" growled his father sternly. "The sunlight reflected off your glasses and started a fire!"

"Please, sir," spoke up the boy next to James, "I-"

But James nudged him in the side. "Sorry, dad. I didn't mean to..."

"Merlin's beard, James!" cried his mother. "What were you trying to do? The size of half a quidditch field is annihilated. I just don't know what to do with you sometimes!"

"I said I was sorry!"

His mother sighed as she unfolded the glasses, stepped up to him, and placed them perhaps a little too firmly on his head. Placing a very brief kiss on his forehead she walked away briskly. His father gave him forgiving, yet still stern and disappointed look before following his mother. The other Aurors felt it necessary to glare at him before returning to their picnic.

James and boy sat on the picnic table silently, staring at the scorched field before them. The two boys glanced at each other in silence for a moment, before they boy simultaneously broke into laughter. They both laughed for a while, -at the fire, at the situation, and at their getting caught- until it finally died down. The boy, smiling, nudged him. "You didn't have to stick up for me like that. It was my fault."

"And let you take the credit?" gasped James, horrified. "That was the coolest thing to happen at one of these picnics in years. No way are you taking the fame!"

The boy grinned for a moment before he stuck out his hand. "Remus Lupin," he introduced himself.

James shook it briefly. "James Potter."

"James Francis Potter," snickered Remus.

"What kind of name is Remus anyway?" he snorted, as they both continued to laugh.

Though they hung out faithfully at the Auror picnics, James never did learn what was so mysterious about this one Remus Lupin, and no one- neither his father, nor his mother- seemed obliged to tell him. To James, he was just a regular boy, save the fact that he had an odd name. But James knew there was something odd about him. If it wasn't the boy who tripped him off, or the other children, it was Remus's mother. James had heard her one night when they were leaving the picnic. She had gone up to his parents, with tears in her eyes.

"You are the most extraordinary and kindest people I have ever met. Thank you for looking past the prejudices."

And though James didn't know what she was talking about, or what the word prejudice meant, he certainly did understand that in some way, his parents were extraordinary...

* * * * *

"Francis?" giggled Lily in absolutely laughable horror. "You're middle name is Francis?"

"It's better than Sirius's..." muttered James as he reclined on his bed. Sirius and Peter were bent over their charms book, discussing their assignment while Remus red quietly on his bed and Ana sat in the window sill, her eyes shut, trying to develop her clairvoyant powers.

It was nearly one month into the semester, and as far as Ana could tell, extraordinarily terrible had happened. While this thought would have relieved a normal person, and perhaps put them at ease, Ana instead was more nervous than anything else. Like the feeling before vomiting, she knew something horrible was going to happen, and it was just a matter of waiting. But while she was forcing patience, she was sure to keep all her eyes open.

"See anything yet?" she asked Remus. He had agreed to be the recipient of the clairvoyant colors.

"No," he muttered, lazily turning a page in his poetry book.

"And what, may I ask, is wrong with my middle name?" demanded Sirius.

"What is it?" demanded Lily, leaning over James's reclining position, and staring him dead in the eye.

"Don´t you dare," Sirius warned James darkly.

Taking Sirius´s warning to heart, he smiled at Lily. "Ophiuchus," he snickered.

Ana's eyes popped open in horror. "Sirius Ophiuchus Black? That's terrible!"

"Dreadful!" Lily countered.

Sirius glowered. "Oh, and I suppose you two have better middle names?"

"Rose," replied Lily simply.

"Hilde," shrugged Ana.

"Hilde? See? That's different!" pointed out Sirius defiantly.

"It's my mother's name," glared Ana. But she almost had to smile at the look of guilt that spread across Sirius's face. "Okay, so it's different. But Ophiuchus is just strange."

"Where have I heard that name before?" frowned Lily, deep in concentration.

"It's a constellation, I think," muttered Ana.

"Yes, stargazer, it's a constellation," sighed Sirius, getting very well tired of the conversation.

Ana snapped her fingers in realization. "It's near Lupus! I remember that from that Astronomy project I had to do last year." She was tempted to start singing "Joy to the World" at the memory. Remus seemed to be reading her mind as he glanced over his book, his eyes wearing the laughter that his face hardly showed.

"Hey..." gasped Peter in one of his few moments of glory. "You realize that you're initials are-"

"-Shut up, Peter!" hissed Sirius covertly. But Lily had heard.

"Sirius Ophiuchus...oh no!" she laughed aloud. "S.O.B.!!! Your initials are S.O.B.!"

Sirius bit his tongue as he glared out the window.

"Oh don't worry, Sirius," smirked Remus from the bed, his hazel eyes wide with honesty. "You're the jolly best S.O.B. I've ever met." The room erupted into snickers.

Conversation died down after that, leaving Ana to concentrate on her studies. Her eyes closed, she started breathing slowly and deeply. She spoke into Remus's mind. "I'm going to try again, okay?"

She had been working on sending clairvoyant images since the summer. It was no easy task. Kezia explained to her how this was a specialty of one of the Guardians, Michael, and how he could transmit visions from his mind to countless others. But Ana was at the very early basics. "First, learn to transmit colors," Kezia had said. "Then two colors. Then three. Then shapes, and four colors. Then full pictures. Then moving pictures. Then sound." Ana was still working on one color.

Reading Remus's mind just briefly enough to hear his consent, she began. She concentrated. 'Red... red... red...' she said in her mind.

"Red!" replied Remus from his bed. Ana's eyes flew open.

"You saw it?" she gasped, excited.

He smirked. "No, you were talking to yourself."

Embarrassed, Ana sighed and closed her eyes and tried to imagine anything with the color red. Roses, fire engines, apples, all these things flew before her mind as she concentrated. Then, oddly, another object entered her mind - an object that had no business being there, as she had never seen or bothered to fathom over it before. A red envelope. Ana opened her eyes in confusion, her eyes gazing out the window onto the red and orange trees that glowed in the autumn sun. Her attention was captured by the movement of a large bird - an owl - who carried a letter in its talons. A letter in a red envelope.

The owl circled over the trees below her, slowly ascending until Ana was looking at it straight on. Its feathers were as black as the night as it slid through the air gracefully, always seeming to keep on eye on Ana as it flew in an ever circular motion. It was a beautiful bird, but one that filled Ana with dread as it soared through the air. She almost forgot to breath as she instinctively grabbed her wand, never letting her eyes leave the inky shape. Quite suddenly, the bird broke its form and flew directly towards the window at an alarming speed. Ana, stunned and unable to find a curse, dove to the stone floor in a heap, covering her head with her arms in the brace for the sound and possible pain of glass shuddering above her. Waiting, waiting for the very moment when the dark creature would fly through the window...

- Yet, the glass never broke. There was no sound of collision. The only sound she heard was Remus calling her name.

"Ana? You okay?"

Ana removed her arms from her face and looked at everyone staring at her. Slowly and tentatively, she sat up, and stared out the window to see nothing out of the ordinary. No owl. No red envelope. Just her own, blue-eyed reflection in the glass. "A vision..." she frowned.

"What was it?" asked Sirius, having taken much interest in her abilities since the incident on Remus's last birthday.

"A black owl... carrying a red letter."

"A red letter?" gasped Peter, growing pale.

"A letter in a red envelope, yes..." confirmed Ana. "Does this mean something to you, Peter?"

"Well..." he shifted uneasily.

James stepped in. "Death notices usually come in red envelopes... especially those reported by the Ministry."

Ana nodded in comprehension as meanings to the vision flew into her mind and a chill ran down her spine. But suddenly, the sound of footsteps outside the room caught her attention. Both her and Lily exchanged glances as they dove under the beds of James and Sirius, just in time to miss the attention of Professor McGonagall stepping through the doorway. Ana could feel the seriousness of her voice, even from under Sirius's bed.

"I need to speak to the prefects alone for a moment. Mr. Pettigrew, Mr. Black, if you would be so kind to step out for a moment?"

Ana heard shuffled footsteps and the door closing. New prefects had been added to the roster over the summer, including Remus and Lily. While Sirius was largely intelligent, his mishap with Snape the previous year had cost him dearly in the eyes of Professor Dumbledore. And poor Peter, though thoroughly likeable, simply did not have the grades to earn the position.

"Gentlemen, I have some terrible news that you as prefects should be aware of," she began most solemnly. "It would seem that the dark wizard, Voldemort," she fumbled with his name, "has made a series of attacks in the London area, beginning a battle that may influence the lives of many students here at Hogwarts."

"What happened?" Ana heard Remus ask, his voice as tight as it always was when he was concerned.

"The Minister of Magic," replied McGonagall evenly, "has been assassinated."

A stunned silence followed her words. Ana had the strange suggestion that even their brains stopped thinking for a moment, not knowing quite what to think.

"It can't be!" gasped James.

"I'm afraid so," replied the Professor. "Headmaster Dumbledore will be making the announcement to the students at dinner. There will be many frightened students, especially students whose parents are involved in ministry positions. And not all of them will want to speak with the professors about their fears. As prefects, you will need to assist us in maintaining the well being of the students here. Furthermore, the fireplaces will need to be guarded from an excess of students wishing to contact their parents. That is not what the common room fires are meant for and prefects will need to address this. There will a meeting at 4 o' clock in the Prefect's Room on just how to handle this. Do either of you have any questions?"

"No, professor," each said in turn.

"Then I am needed to inform the rest of the prefects. If you see any, be sure to tell them, but do not inform the student body just yet. Understood?"

The boys must have nodded, for Ana did not hear answers. The door opened, footsteps left the room, and the door shut again. Ana rolled out from under the bed and sat up in a daze. James and Remus stared at each other in amazement.

"The Minister of Magic," breathed James in terrified awe. Remus just shook his head distantly.

While Ana could feel their worry, which was muddled by a thousand thoughts that clouded their mind, the clearest feeling in the room was from underneath James's bed. Crawling over, Ana slid underneath and came face to face with a wide-eyed Lily.

"What's going to happen, Ana?" she hissed, her green eyes glittering with tears. "Can you see it? Is he going to take over?"

Ana's mind swirled at her proximity to Lily. Any fear that she had felt from her before had increased greatly as she met her eyes. Ana had felt fear stronger before, but this was deeper. This wasn't fear. It was dread. Irrational, insuppressible dread.

"I- I don't know, Lily," she said back, a certain fear creeping washing over her own heart, though Ana wondered if it was just the extent of Lily's emotions.

"But you're a True Seer!" replied Lily desperately, her voice raising from a hiss to a strained gasp. "You know what's going to happen! You know! Tell me! Please!" Lily was nearly shaking as she grabbed at Ana's robes with an odd look in her eye.

Ana shivered as she tore her arm away and rolled out from under the bed. She hopped up and fled the room, ignoring the calls of Peter, who she passed as she ran through the Common Room. Sprinting through the hallway, she focused her mind on one point. Not knowing if she could concentrate hard enough while sprinting, she took a deep breath, and screamed out telepatically.

"KEZIA! KEZIA, come quick!"

She ran down the staircases, nearly falling to her death as one of them decided to move at the very wrong time. Lily's frightful eyes still flooded her mind.

"PLEASE, KEZIA!"

Ana flew past the library and the great hall, nearly knocking over Professor Dumbledore, but not stopping to apologize. She ran with all her might, screaming out as loud as her psyche would let her.

"KEZIA! KEZIA! KEZIA!"

"WHAT," was the firm reply as Ana flew out of the castle doors. Kezia waited, her face flushed with worry, at the top of the marble staircase. Her wand was extended as she looked around swiftly with large purple eyes for something to pursue Ana. But nothing came. She glared at Ana with concern. "What?" she asked more gently than the first time, putting an arm around the young guardian. "The entire Tower heard you, Ana, what on Earth is going on?"

Ana was gasping for breath. "The Minister- he's... "

"Dead," nodded Kezia. "Yes, we know." Her eyes still questioned Ana in search of the chaos.

"But why? What's going to happen?" Ana said, trying to maintain her composure, but feeling quite ill, and shaking in response. "Voldemort's gaining power and people could die and-"

"Ana," sighed Kezia. "Ana, stop! Calm down!"

But Ana would not calm down. "Why can't I see? I´m a True Seer, no?"

"These things take time, Ana, you know that," Kezia replied, giving Ana a cautious glance.

"But Lily wants to know, and I have nothing to tell her! You should have seen her!"

Kezia stopped for a moment. Her gaze was steady, but there was something behind her eyes that made Ana stop and look, wondering what it was. "You could," said Kezia slowly, "tell her exactly what she wants to hear."

"What, that we're all going to be okay? Kezia, I haven't seen anything like that. I haven't seen anything at all! But every feeling in my body tells me that this is the beginning of a long and dark path..." Ana trailed off, shaking her head. And she could feel it. The air outside, though a warm September day, whipped and whirled, chilling her to the bone. "Do you feel it?" she asked quietly. She felt as if she was very small, like a small child even, but she asked anyway, needing to know. Kezia put an arm around her again as she guided her down the castle steps.

"Let's go for a little walk," she said quietly, glancing back over her shoulder. Ana, feeling quite patronized, allowed herself to be reluctantly led with a sour glower. Kezia didn't say anything more until they were a good distance from the castle, walking on the leaf-covered path around the lake. "Yes, Ana," she agreed, "I feel it, and the fact that you're beginning to feel it means that you're growing more advanced in your powers. But what you have just begun to feel, Ana, is something that the Circle has known about for years. There is a war going on, Ana. A war beyond the walls of Hogwarts, or what you perceive as the troubles of your own life. A dark power is taking hold of this world - a power so strong that knowingly or not so, it is compromising fate."

"Voldemort," whispered Ana.

"Voldemort," nodded Kezia. "Even regular seers can see that the future is not bright. Normal wizards are nervous. Muggles, though clueless, could someday learn all that we have kept so silent for years."

"We have to tell people!" insisted Ana. "Dumbledore! Dumbledore will know what to do! He'll-"

"He must never know!" hissed Kezia firmly. So firmly, that Ana stopped to gaze in wonder at the sharpness in her voice and eyes. Never before had Kezia seemed so serious, and to see such a break from her heavenly grace nearly took her breath away. Even her eyes glittered in a way in which Ana had never seen.

"But... why?" asked Ana tentatively.

"Because, Ana," said Kezia, her eyes and voice softening once more, "what will be, will be."

"But evil-"

Kezia stopped walking completely and turned to look at Ana meaningfully. "Good things can come out of the darkest of situations. The worst thing that you could imagine- the absolute worst - can be used for some of the greatest things in the great plan. Every step in fate is important, Ana, even the bad ones. And if we tell anyone of the bad things that will be, they will ultimately try to avoid them. What we know cannot be known to anyone else."

Ana was stunned. "Do you want Voldemort to succeed?"

She looked abashed. "No! Of course not! But fate has other plans, until we are told otherwise."

"Fate is cruel," muttered Ana.

"Yes," agreed Kezia, wide-eyed, "to a human who doesn't see the big picture. But beyond this life is a life that makes up for every hardship that there ever was."

Ana thought for a moment before turning and continuing down the path. Kezia followed.

"What am I going to tell Lily? My friends? If they can't know, what can I tell them?"

Kezia thought. "Sometimes, Ana, it is simply best to put the person at ease."

"Lie."

"Lies can be justified, especially for people in our situation. The normal rules don't apply to us in the same way they do to the lesser mortals."

"Lies," Ana said again. It wasn't hurt or accusing, but rather, just confused.

"It's not that bad, Ana, you'll see."

* * * * *

Ana walked solemnly back to the castle, having thanked Kezia for coming, but learning quite quickly that her doing so did not put her at ease. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she convinced herself not to throw up, though from the outside, she looked calm and peaceful. She looked exactly like what she was and was not. She was a student- a sixteen year old girl, with youth in her face. But her eyes deceived her. For even now, fine wrinkles, only visible to one conscious of them, were beginning to engrave in the shadows around her eyes. Though her shoulders were relaxed and set, and Ana looked strong, there could sometimes be seen an invisible weight that weighed her down and back. And her mouth, normally straight-lipped, was beginning to sink at the corners, though ever so slightly.

A bunch of students ran passed her as she ascended the castle steps, carrying brooms and mounting them as they happily did tricks and stunts to each other´s amazement. She frowned as they laughed and shouted, and enjoyed the afternoon. Yet, she sat down on the wide railing, and held her knees in her hands, watching them curiously. It wasn´t long until she found herself joined by the only person (besides, perhaps, Dumbledore) who could locate her without psychic means.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Remus asked quietly, following her bright blue eyes to their fellow classmates.

"You´d sooner be paying me to take away what I tell you," she said, smiling in newly found cynicism.

Frowning, he brushed a stray tendril behind her ear. "You left in quite a hurry."

"I had to talk to Kezia."

Remus frowned. "What did she say?"

Ana pondered how to answer him before deciding on the easiest reply. "Nothing of importance."

Remus sighed as he viewed the love of his life before him. "Bad mood today?"

Ana raised an eyebrow at him. "The Minister of Magic is dead."

"Yes, I know," he replied, nodding in confirmation, his bright hazel eyes searching hers for further explanation. "And what else is wrong?"

Suddenly, a fury rose in Ana that not even she could locate. "And? What don´t you understand? Remus, you don´t even know the half of what´s going to happen!"

"Then tell me!" he said, backing off, and growing defensive.

Ana hopped off the railing and stepped up to him. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. `Tell you? What do you want to know?´ she thought in her mind. `How the world is going down the drain? How Voldemortmay take over? How every night, in my dreams, all I see is unimaginable pain?´ She glared at him, her mouth hanging open with the words that wouldn´t come out. Kezia´s voice was still fresh in her mind: "What we know cannot be known to anyone else."

Slowly, Ana´s mouth closed, and she lowered her eyes. Her fists were still clenched, but she took several deep, cleansing breaths that though they did clear her mind, did not clear her psyche. The chill took over her once again. "I can´t tell you," she whispered. "I wish I could, but I can´t."

"Why not?" demanded Remus. "Ana, I love you. We´re supposed to share everything with each other."

Again, Kezia´s words came into her mind: "The normal rules don't apply to us in the same way they do to the lesser mortals."

"That´s how it is for normal relationships, Moony," she said firmly, yet quietly, "but there are some things that I will never be able to tell you about."

"So what am I supposed to do?" he muttered, shaking his head in frustration. "Just sit around and tell you I love you whenever you get all mopey?"

Ana´s anger flared again as her eyes flashed to meet his. "Not if you don´t want to," she sneered.

Even he was taken aback. But it was only a moment before he regained his ground. In a very pointed whisper that darkened his bright eyes, he nodded and agreed. "Fine. You deal with this. All I was trying to do was help, but it´s quite obvious that there´s nothing I can do." He started to speak further, but just shook his head and turned and left, leaving Ana in the chill of the stifling autumn day.

* * * * *

Ana almost didn´t attend the evening meal that night, not because of Remus, but because she wasn´t sure she could handle the upsurge of emotion that would surround her when Dumbledore broke the news. Unfortunately, having missed her afternoon meal, she was hungry beyond words, and required food in the worst way. So rather than sitting through Dumbledore´s speech, she opted to arrive late. It would not be too difficult to determine when the speech was over. She sat on the grand staircase outside of the Great Hall, and simply waited. She could barely hear Dumbledore´s muffled words through the powerfully thick doors, but what she could feel was the chill creeping through the cracks. The air around her was deafeningly silent, and though hundreds of people lay on the other side of the wall to her right, Ana felt completely alone.

Then, suddenly, it happened. A chill she had never experienced washed over her, bringing tears to her eyes as all she could feel was dread and fear, despair, anger, grief... the emotions of thousands of students pouring through the walls, leaving her in a state of absolute shock. Forcefully, she made herself stand and start walking towards the great hall, though the emotions were absolutely pounding. Her head ached, and she felt nauseous and dizzy, and had to collapse against the wall for support. But shaking her head forcefully, she stood up straight and continued on until she reached the doors, and pushed them open.

There was very little sound in the Great Hall that meal. Ana made her way in solemn silence to her place at Gryffindor Table, between Peter and Lily. She paused briefly to let her shining blue eyes wander over the students, fascinated at how suddenly, she was able to identify certain emotions with certain students. Though pleased with herself, Ana could not find it in herself to smile. Briefly she raised her eyes to Dumbledore, who was watching her gravely. He gave her an acknowledging nod as she sat down.

"Hi," she whispered to Lily, who stared at her empty plate quietly. She looked at James, who was picking at his food, and Remus, who seemed more solemn than angry at her. Peter was filling his plate uncontrollably as Sirius busied himself with buttering bread.

Lily looked up at her, her green eyes full of tears. Neither she nor Ana said a thing before Ana hugged her tightly. If Ana could identify one thing, it was that Lily was probably one of the most frightened people in the entire Great Hall. Ana had to remind herself that she was strong and that the emotions she felt weren´t real; they were Lily´s. But suddenly, a more powerful feeling struck through her, like a sword through her middle. It almost tickled; in fact, it did tickle, and Ana was surprised to find herself smiling. A happy laugh escaped her lips as Lily pulled out of the hug and glared at her. Even James frowned.

"Ana, what a time to be laughing," he muttered in disapproval. Looking at James only made Ana happier.

"I don´t know why... just this feeling of happiness..." she said between gasps of laughter that were become quite noticeable, "I think it´s coming from you!"

"Me?" frowned James, "but Ana, what are you talking about?"

Just then, Ana felt the presence of two strangers who promptly entered the Great Hall. Normally, Ana was wary of any and all strangers, even the first years. But these two, a middle aged man and woman, walking hand in hand, brought only smiles to her face. And as she viewed her companions around her, she found that she was not alone. For Sirius and Peter had stopped eating, and Lily had smiled for the first time the entire afternoon. James stood immediately, and toppled around the bench to meet the adults: A man with slicked back black hair, and a woman with impossibly wavy, messy, ebony hair.

"Mum! Dad!" exclaimed James as he rushed towards them. His mother smiled a warm, picturesque smile and his father shook his son´s hand as he pulled him into a hug. It was not every day that parents visited Hogwarts, but they were most certainly welcome. Smiling, Ana looked around at the students, all of whom were aglow, whether they knew the Potters, liked the Potters, hated the Potters, or not. The only ones who did not seem pleased where the figures at the faculty table, namely, as Ana noticed, the stately figure of the school´s headmaster, AlbusDumbledore. His eyes lost their twinkle as they lowered to the plate before him, leaving Ana to wonder, as the chill returned to her, just what this all could mean.

* * * * *

Dumbledore did eventually come to welcome William and Elizabeth Potters, and led them to a well-furnished lounging room where they, James, and the others could relax and enjoy their time together. Ana wondered why he didn´t inquire about their arrival, but was so caught up in the blessed ease from the pain she had felt, if just temporary, that she didn´t particularly care. In the room, Mrs. Potter hugged Lily while her other half shook the boys´ hands cordially. Afterwards, both paused to glance questioning at Ana.

"And who is this?" asked Mr. Potter, his voice the perfect match for formality.

Mrs. Potter warm smile darkened slightly into a smile of wonder. "You must be Ana," she said softly, taking a step towards her. Ana couldn´t help but see flash of pity in her eyes. "James has told us so much about you."

Ana knew what James had told them. Most of the time, when people talked about her, it revolved around her powers, or being attacked, or Remus, or the like. Forcing a smile, as she had become so accustomed to doing, she nodded. Feeling very political, she welcomed them. "It´s nice to meet you." But her stomach was tied in knots. "Yes," she thought to herself, "I am the one that got your son shot."

James broke the short pause that followed. "Why are you here?" inquired, not seeming too worried about the answer.

Ana saw the two exchange a glance before Mr. Potter answered very gravely. "You have all heard about the Minister?" When all nodded he continued. "We thought you all were due for a visit, considering the circumstances."

Everyone smiled in relief at their answer, except for Ana, who viewed them with new suspicion. There was something very strange behind their dark eyes that made Ana wonder. Slowly, trying not to be noticed, she took deep breaths and cleared her mind, and let herself hear Mrs. Potter´s thoughts, her powers being considerably better in the realm of mind reading.

"...He´s getting so big... when did he grow up? I hope we raised him well..."

Raising an eyebrow slightly, she focused her energy on James´s father as she joined the rest of the group in heading towards the easy chairs.

"How are we going to tell him?"

Suddenly, Ana´s thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Potter. "Ana, I suppose you´ll want to sit by Remus," she said, scooting over to make room between her and Remus. Ana glanced at him and he at her as she sat down heavily, more towards James´s mother than her boyfriend, though neither seemed an optimal choice at the moment.

As James and Sirius discussed quidditch with Mr. Potter, Ana was startled to find Mrs. Potter´s attention suddenly cast upon her. She smiled at her thoughtfully, and for a moment, Ana thought that she saw a glimpse of resemblance to her mother in the woman beside her. But she quickly figured it was a trait that came naturally with being a mother.

"My, you two are quiet tonight," she said, nodding to her and Remus. "How long have you two been dating now?"

"Almost a year," Ana replied, somewhat surprised herself.

"Nine months," Remus countered.

Ana frowned. "Nearly ten!"

He rolled his eyes and turned back to Peter, who was sitting on the floor near his feet. Ana bit her tongue.

Mrs. Potter´s eyebrows raised in a manner that much resembled James when he encountered a surprise. Her dark eyes shone in amusement as she prodded further. "Trouble in paradise?" she asked, sounding less like a mother and more like a sister.

Ana laughed at the word, paradise. "It´s nothing major," she said, smoothing it over. She heard Remus falter in his conversation with Peter. He always was listening, as Ana knew well. "What!" she demanded.

He looked at her with horribly displayed innocence. "What? What did I do?"

"You know very well what you did," she said quietly, trying to keep the argument that was beginning to develop between them, ignoring the fact that the entire room was now listening.

Remus groaned as he pressed his head in his hands briefly. "What do you want from me?" he muttered.

Ana´s mouth hung open. "Me? What do I want? Remus, what do you want?"

"I want my girlfriend back!" he said evenly, staring her directly in the eyes. Ana looked away. "This is not the Ana I know and love," he said simply.

Ana found it difficult to breathe. `Yes, it is...," she wanted to say. But the words came out in the form of Ana standing, and heading towards the door. Quite suddenly, she felt someone grab her wrist. Ana yanked it away. "Don´t..." she muttered, sending a quick glance to Remus. But it wasn´t, as she realized, Remus who caught her arm. It was Mrs. Potter, and on her face was an expression of desperation.

"Ana, wait just a moment," she whispered. Turning back to Remus, she extended a hand to him. He looked at it smugly, but her eyes pressured him into it. He took it and she pulled him up. Taking both of them, she led them into the brightly lit corridor outside the lounge, and closed the stained glass doors. She turned to them. Her eyes were deep, and Ana shrunk under their power. No one said anything for a moment, until Mrs. Potter began.

"Just tell me what is going on," she sighed, placing a hand on Remus´s shoulder.

Ana and Remus exchanged a glance. Angrily, Ana gave him a warning look as it was hardly any of Elizabeth Potter's business what was going on between them. But Remus frowned, having much more faith in James's mother than Ana had ever noticed. "This whole year, she´s been moping around, and refuses to tell me why."

"I can´t tell you why," Ana replied, feeling an exhausted lump grow in her throat. She turned to Mrs. Potter. "It´s Guardian stuff."

"And you´re upset because you don´t know what´s going on?" Mrs. Potter asked Remus.

Remus shook his head. "I´m upset because I can´t do anything about it." He turned to Ana, not particularly caring that Mrs. Potter was standing before them. "I miss the way things were."

Ana cringed, and Mrs. Potter put an arm around her. "I want to tell you two a story," she said sadly. "It´s a story that I used to tell James as a little boy, though he needed I far less than you two need I today, I think," she said quietly, Ana feeling what could only be her heartache. "In the far past, there lived a man and a woman who were very much in love. They lived their youth, and got married, and started a family. And they loved each other so much, that every day was better than the day before. But in those days, a dark witch ruled the area, and she was so jealous of the love that was shared between this man and this woman, that she went and took the woman´s hair, and stripped it of its color. The man, upon seeing his wife, was so disturbed at what was lost that he could hardly speak. But the woman smiled, and said, `See? I am still here, my love. For I am the same person that you have loved for all these years. I can still sing as sweetly and cook as I have for times and further. Won´t you tell me you love me?´ But the man was so upset by this change that he took his wand and headed out to find the dark witch, so that he could find what had been taken away. The dark witch, however, was so crafty, that the man spent the rest of his days searching for what was lost, leaving both the woman and himself alone until the day of their death."

There was a pause as the story sunk into the listener´s ears. Ana shifted. "James had some interesting bed time stories..."

Mrs. Potter smiled slightly, but turned to Ana. "And there´s another one, love. Another story I used to tell him, and that my mother used to tell me. There was once a stag, who lived in the great Woods of the Highland. And all the animals respected him, and looked up to him, for he was the greatest of the stags. But in those days, the creatures didn´t have antlers. And the stag of our story was, in fact, the first to grow a pair of mighty antlers. But, horrified, the stag fled the wood, never to return, secretly carrying the strange load upon him that no other creature seemed to carry. Hiding from the eyes of the loving creatures, he forced himself into solitude, and to this day, the great stags always do stand alone."

Ana lowered her eyes. She found it difficult to apply the story to herself, but she could relate to the stag.

"Children," started James´s mother, "there are hard times approaching, where nothing is certain. But one more story for you, if you will be so kind. There was once a tree that sprang up from tiny acorn in the Valley of Notsdyl, that was so small and weak, that the other trees laughed at him and mocked him every day and every night, in their own tree-like way. But the Earth, she loved, the tiny tree, and she held his roots tightly. She held his roots so tightly, in fact, that even when the tiny sapling had stopped growing, he still stood strong. So strong, that when a fierce winter storm tore through the valley, a storm that upturned the greatest of trees, the small tree stood fast, held by the Earth who loved him.

"Now you two," she continued, "probably think I´m a bit nutters, but I see you two, and I have heard of your love. And though I know there are things that you can´t tell him, Ana, and I know all you want is to love and be loved, Remus, you have to understand that there are greater things at stake here."

Ana listened with interest, no longer feeling guilt towards her anger at Remus, nor any feeling towards Remus in particular, but rather, a need to know Mrs. Potter. For as she spoke, Ana could feel how much she loved them, though she had only personally met herself shortly prior. But there was so much more, more that Ana could not see that struck a fear in her heart as she watched Mrs. Potter smile and give both of their shoulders a squeeze and head back into the lounge room.

Slowly, she looked up at Remus, who was looking back at her. "Remus," she said, breathlessly, "I´m afraid."

Gently, he moved towards her, and they both gradually submitted to each others´ hugs. "I know, Ana, we all are." And Ana smiled as he whispered a familiar poem into her ear: "Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright, their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

"You and your poems," she chuckled sadly, burying her face into his shoulder for a blessed moment. "But," she continued, wondering if she should say anything at all, "I fear for her."

"Mrs. Potter?" he asked, drawing back, and staring at her with full attention. "What have you seen?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, glad that she had not, in fact, seen anything, "but she just seems to me like..."

"Like she is somehow on the same line as Dumbledore... the last bits of true goodness in the world." She looked at him earnestly. "I almost killed her son," she exclaimed, continuing so fast as to cut off Remus's objections, "and still, she won't have me in any distress. I wish you could feel what I feel when I see her. I want to smile and laugh, but there's such a quiet peace around her... It's beautiful, Remus."

Remus nodded, slowly. "The Potters..." he drifted off, an odd smile coming over his lips. "Ana, I ..." he fumbled for words, "...there are just no better people in this world. Not you, not me, not Dumbledore... there´s just something different about them..."

"I feel it," she said with a wide-eyed smirk. "That I do." But her smile faded. "And that makes me afraid."

* * * * *

They stayed late, almost later than curfew would allow, but James, being a second year prefect, would be allowed special privileges, especially considering the circumstances. However, when the time was growing short, Mr. and Mrs. Potter politely asked everyone to excuse them for a while to talk to their son. Mr. Potter shook everyone´s hand formally, while Mrs. Potter hugged everyone and kissed them on the cheek. Ana and Remus especially got an extra squeeze on the shoulder as she gazed at them with meaningful, deep eyes. They were so dark, that Ana´s worries only multiplied.

Nonetheless, Ana and the rest gathered their things and returned to GryffindorTower, spirits generally lightened and refreshed. Peter and Sirius retired to a game of chess, while Ana stretched out on the Common Room carpet with scrolls of Pre-Alchemy homework. Remus stretched out near her with his Magical Creatures textbook, and read, every once and a while, catching her eye, neither smiling nor frowning, just reminding her that he was still there. And Ana would smile slightly, which was better than nothing, and they would go back to their homework once again.

Unfortunately, having such a welcomed disruption to the normal routine threw off everyone´s schedule, and midnight came and went without notice. It was Lily who finally spoke up.

"James sure is out late, talking to his parents." Ana didn´t need to be a Seer to hear the concern behind her casualty.

Remus looked up at the grandfather clock with wonder as he agreed. "It´s going on 12:30. Do you think we should go looking for him? I could call it a `Prefect Mission,´ if you wanted."

"Or Ana could just figure out where he is," offered Peter.

"But what´s the adventure in that?" gasped Sirius, apparently offended by the idea.

Lily ignored him. "Ana, do you mind?"

Ana hardly had to think. She opened her mind to find his, and upon finding it, an icy stabbing pierced her mind. She visibly convulsed as she sat up quickly, rubbing her head firmly.

"What happened?" asked Remus, scooting up to her.

"He´s in the lounge room," she grunted, still rubbing her head. "I don´t know what happened, though." And she didn´t. Never before had she felt such a surge of energy... or whatever it was.

Remus looked up at the group, now wearing more concern across his already largely mature features. "I don´t like this. I´m going to go check up on him."

"I´m going with you," replied Lily, standing and smoothing her hair and uniform.

Sirius jumped to his feet as well, but Remus shook his head. "Sorry, Sirius, you can´t go."

"I could take you with two hands tied behind my back, Moony," Sirius replied, though smirking. "Don´t tell me I have to miss a chance to break rules. You know how much I love breaking rules."

"Yes, yes," muttered Remus. "Rules are meant to be broken, aren´t they. I had almost forgotten," he sighed. Seeing Lily having already left, he rushed out the portrait hole, calling back behind him, "And you couldn´t `take me´ if you had both hands, Padfoot!"

"Oh, so it´s a bet, is it?" laughed Sirius, stepping through the portrait after him, disappearing into the darkness. Though Ana couldn´t see a thing through the inky blackness of the post-curfew corridors, the void that lay beyond the open portrait caught her eye as she stared at it. It was so black, that Ana felt that a candle wouldn´t do any good. She frowned as she gazed out the open portrait, wondering if there was anything blacker - or even as black - as the depth that lay before her. She almost didn´t realize Peter was talking.

"Fine, leave me here," he was muttering, lazily packing up the chess pieces.

"You could have gone," Ana reminded him, as she continued to examine the darkness. When he didn´t answer, she turned half way to view him. He knelt on the floor, holding the box of chess pieces, wearing a look that she had never seen on him before, but looked as if it suited him well.

"I wasn´t invited," he replied quietly as he stood, and walked to the boysstairwell, disappearing up into his dormitory.

Ana watched him go, analyzing his comments, but the darkness of the corridor still captivated her. As she looked at it, visions passed before her mind. The black owl. The black carriages arriving at Hogwarts. And as she viewed the darkness on her doorstep, she quickly realized that what was to be, was to be at that moment. Closing her eyes briefly, noting how much lighter her closed eyelids were to the rich ebony that lay beyond the corridor, she forced herself to see.

`Just see...´ she sighed as she let go, and the voices began.

The first voice was distinctly Mr. Potter. None other. "James, your mother and I need to tell you something, and this is not going to be easy for any of us."

"What is it?" It was James´s voice. His mother replied.

"Well, love, as you know, your father and I have never had the safest jobs in the world..." Her voice was shaky as she spoke, and butterflies jumped in Ana´s stomach as she listened. "..butwe have always taken risks to try and help people who are in need."

"Yes, I know that. That´s why I want to be an Auror!" James´s voice was so full of admiration that Ana smiled a fumbling smile as she listened. But, she already knew what was coming. She had felt it since the moment the Potters arrived. It was why Dumbledore was so downcast at having their visit.

"James, what your mother and I are trying to tell you is that with the passing of the Minister today, we´ve just been assigned to a new mission..."

"What is it?" asked James quietly.

"Oh, pet, you know we can´t tell you that. But this one is very important, and there´s a good chance that we won´t be in touch for a long while. It would probably be best to plan on staying here for Christmas."

James´s voice faltered slightly. "It´s not dangerous, is it?"

Even James´s father became softer after a short pause. "All missions are dangerous James. But we have to go anyway. It´s our duty."

"But you´ve never had to leave for this long before!"

"Ah, but James," Ana heard his father reply fondly, "it´s nothing you can´t handle. You´re a fine wizard, and a finer young man. You´ll get along, and so will we, and we´ll be back together again before you even realize we´re gone..."

Ana didn´t hear the rest of the conversation, as figures started emerging from the blackness. James, pale and shadow-eyed emerged, followed by a very downcast series of friends. He stepped through the gate into the dim room, stopping to glance at Ana.

"You already know?" he asked, having to clear his throat, though it did not do much good.

Ana nodded, feeling an emptiness within him that rivaled the void of the corridor. Ana wanted to reach out and hug him, and hold him, if just only to have some company in the void. But he floated by her, and up the staircase to the boy's dormitory, followed by Sirius. Remus kissed her head, and followed. Lily stepped into her watchful view.

"I asked you earlier today what´s going to happen, and I know you know," she said shakily. "Can you tell me now?"

Ana looked at her for a moment, as the days events flooded before her. Finally, she responded. "I can tell you, simply that it´s all under control, and that it all works out in the end."

"The end?" frowned Lily. "What do you mean by the end?"

"Well," Ana shifted uneasily, "It´s like dominos... in a row, and really-"

"Dominos?" snorted Lily. "You must be joking. Give me something concrete, Ana."

Ana looked at her for a moment before her sparkling blue eyes dropped to the floor. "I am, Lily."

Lily left her then, and Ana remained in the shadowy Common Room for quite some time before retiring to bed.

* * * * *

"You seem awfully uneasy tonight," Kezia observed as Ana paced the lawn of the castle, blanked in darkness of the bitter cold night. Ana paused to glance up at the stars for a moment before she looked away and continued pacing, bundled in her black velvet winter cloak. Her feet crunched softly in the shallow snow as she stepped lightly and lazily, but with her head lowered against her chin. "You usually like stargazing," prodded Kezia, her purple eyes shining in the dim light emitted by the castle.

Ana glanced up at the sky tentatively once more before lowering her eyes again. "They're quiet tonight."

For the group, but especially for James, life was lived day by agonizing day without word from his parents, their whereabouts, their business, their health, their status. Letters in red envelopes had begun to flood the school. At least two a week, if not more. Some students were removed, some were allowed to stay. But as the days turned into weeks, which turned into months, Ana began to see it in James´s eyes: it was the look of one who wanted the red letter. And as Ana´s powers increased on an exponential note, James´s strength dissipated at the same rate.

Kezia bit her lower lip, awkwardly before speaking. "You sure? The stars seem to have plenty to say to me."

"And what do they say to you?" asked Ana, if not slightly bitter.

"They're telling me that your emotions are clouding your judgment."

Ana glanced up at the sky one more. "The stars are bright."

"That they are."

"Too bright. It almost hurts," she observed, her mouth a thin line across her face.

"But do you know what they're trying to say?"

Ana dug her boot into the shallow snow for a moment before lifting her eyes to Kezia's. They were almost challenging and direct, and would have been considered harsh if they weren't so alone. "I've been looking at the stars for a few months now, and I've been seeing the same thing every night. -Well, I guess some things change, but as a whole, the stars are still shining, and the night is still dark. Each star stays in its place, aside from the general stellar parallax, in some great organization that is so set in its ways that it makes you wonder."

"Wonder what?"

"What they're hiding. You know the students who are always organized in everything they do. It's almost as if they're trying to make up for something. It's like there's something behind their organization they don't want you to see."

"And you think the stars are hiding something?" asked Kezia, not at all glancing to the sky.

"They´re shining to hide the darkness behind them," sighed Ana as she turned and walked up the castle steps. She paused at the door. ."I think there's something that they definitely don't want me to see." She stepped into the glow of the castle.

Kezia's purple eyes followed her from the dark until she entered the warm glow of the castle. "As there is, Ana," she whispered. "And someday you'll be ready." Kezia walked towards the towering steel gates of Hogwarts, bundling herself in her robes as she stepped through. She straightened up to disapparate, but stopped. The snow rushed around her feet in the winter wind, and the lights of Hogsmeade seemed to dim in the dark night. As readily as the stars spoke to her, she knew that she was being watched. Easily sweeping the area with her psyche as she reached for her wand, she found the source of the eyes. She forced a smile.

"And what did you see, Vespera?"

There was a snapping of a stick as a dark image loomed out of the nearby trees. "Still generously using your psyche, I see," smirked the Guardian, her black eyes still blacker in the evening. "But so is she, now, isn't she?"

"She's growing stronger," nodded Kezia, but frowning slightly, "but surely you didn't need to come all the way from LeBabto see that."

"I was wondering if the stars were going to show her tonight," shrugged Vespera. "Apparently they did not."

"And if they did?"

"I thought I might be of some assistance."

"I could have handled it," muttered Kezia, starting down the path. But Vespera's simple reply stopped her.

"Could you? She is not at all prepared for what she is about to see. It will be a good wake-up call. A harsh one, but a good one."

"She's a strong girl and-"

"You know," interrupted Vespera, taking a few slithering steps toward Kezia, her black eyes direct and ungiving, "there are many things you have failed to mention to her."

"When she's ready I'll-"

"What, you'll scare her away?"

"Look, do you think that you could do a better job of training her?"

"I think you're perfectly capable of helping her, but the girl has enough power that she doesn't need much helping."

"So are you saying I should just leave her to fend for herself?" spat Keziain disbelief.

Vespera rolled her eyes. "You miss my point entirely. I'm just saying, if you're not careful, this whole matter could come back to bite you in the ass."

Kezia shook her head slowly, giving her superior a scrutinizing look. "And when, Vespera, did you become so concerned with people besides yourself."

"I am thinking of myself," was the simple answer as she turned and disapparated away.

* * * * *

Dear Ana,

Happy Christmas! I´m sorry that I cannot be there with you, or you here with my family and me, but I hope that all is well with you and James and Peter at the castle. How is James doing? Has there been any word on his family? I had hoped that his parents would try to find a way to communicate with him for the holiday. But do keep all your eyes on him, and take good care of him. He needs all the support he can get.

Meanwhile, I received your preliminary gift this morning, right on schedule, and no, your owl still does not like me (-I have the scars to prove it... sorry if he´s missing a few feathers). But my, my, Ana, dog tags? For Christmas? I really thought that would have been a Valentine´s Day gift. But I will wear them with pride when the occasion calls. For right now, and until I can join you again at Hogwarts, have this small gift to keep you going.

I will see you in a few days.

Stars be kind, and love be kinder,

Moony

Ana smiled as she folded the letter in her lap and attended to the small package that was attached. Shaking it, it jingled slightly, but was extremely light. Frowning, she willed herself not to use her powers to decipher its contents; she always did love surprises, now more than ever. Tearing off the neatly folded paper, she opened the small box to find, naturally, a leash. She broke into snickers. Remus had finally reached the point where he and Ana could joke about being werewolf, so naturally, she found it necessary to get him a set of dogtags, pronouncing him "Moony, property of Starling," as he had taken to calling her. (Which was a coincidence, as it was the name that Ana remembered her father calling her, back in her first and only memories of him). And now, as Ana viewed his gift, she had a leash.

"I´m not even going to ask," muttered James as he viewed her gift from his easy chair at her side.

Ana fought a blush. "It´s not what you think-"

But he shuddered and waved his hands frantically. "Don´t-want-to-know," he spat. Ana laughed. He certainly was in good spirits. Ana was pleased. It was Christmas, after all.

Peter bumbled down the stairs, carrying an overflowing armload of gifts that naturally toppled out of his hands and all over the floor. Sighing in the relief of getting the gifts down the stairs (one way or another...) Peter grinned. "Presents!" he announced.

"Bloody Hell, Peter," remarked James, "where did you get all these?"

"Been hiding them for Sirius, Remus and Lily!" he said, exuding pride. Kneeling down he picked up a small package and read it. "James, this is for you, from Lily," he muttered, tossing it to him. Picking up another, he threw it to Ana. "From me," he announced.

Ana smiled, and ripped off the paper to find two silver and aquamarine hair clips in the shape of butterflies. Standing, Peter brought out his wand, and whispered a charm. A soft silver light came from Peter´s wand, and the butterflies came to life, fluttering their sparkling wings gently.

"Oh, Peter, they´re lovely," replied Ana, nearly speechless.

"Yes, Peter, lovely," grumbled James.

"What´s wrong? What did Lily give you?" asked Ana, concerned.

"Nothing," muttered James.

"Come on! Let´s see it, then!" laughed Peter.

James glared before slowly reaching behind him and pulling out a brush. Peter and Ana burst into snickers.

"Think she might be trying to tell you something?" asked Ana.

But Peter never got a chance to answer. "Hey! Look!" he exclaimed. "The Huffelpuffs and the Ravenclaws are having a QuidditchSnow Bowl!" Ana and James rushed towards the windows. Sure enough, what few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were still on grounds for the holiday had resorted to a Christmas game of quidditch, snow or no snow... and it was snowing, of course, for everyone knows that it snows on Christmas, especially at Hogwarts, if nowhere else.

"Well Peter?" asked James.

"Well what?"

"We going to go show them what real quidditch is?"

"But James," huffed Peter, "I´m a horrible flyer!"

"Peter," replied James, turning to look him square in the eyes, "We´d be playing against Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs."

A grin spread over Peter´s face as he nodded. "I´ll get the brooms!"

And before Ana could say `frostbite,´ the two boys left the tower, throwing their winter cloaks over their pajamas and robes.

She laughed to herself as she made her way over the piles of unopened presents and retreated to the showers. After preparing herself for the day, she went to the window of her dormitory and sat in the sill. The snow was falling lightly, still allowing her to view the action of the distant quidditchpitch. Distinctly, she could see two fliers dodging around mercilessly, bumping into players and passing the quaffle smoothly. She laughed. Sirius always had said that the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were too polite to play quidditch. He claimed that they apologized every time they did anything that could be even considered offensive, including scoring a goal. As she watched James and Peter bludgering around the field, she shook her head, and averted her eyes with a smirk. Some things, not even a Seer could watch.

Suddenly, a dove grey owl swooped passed her window. It circled around and Ana opened the latch to allow it in. Around its neck was a collar bearing the black and white insignia of the Caucus Resistance. Ana smirked to herself as she opened the letter.

Dear Ms. Anblick,

The Caucus resistance would like to wish you and yours a very Happy Christmas. We are very pleased that the alleged attacks have seemed to cease for this school year and we wish you the best of luck in your studies.

In light of the tragedies that have interrupted your life because of your unfortunate affiliation with the so-called "Circle of Sight," we will be in contact with you in the next few months regarding methods of keeping you safe and protected after graduation.

Again, if you are in any need of our assistance, we may always be contacted at any time or hour. But for the moment, have a happy holiday season.

C. Crouch

Director, Caucus Resistance

Ana shook her head in amazement at the persistence of the small and largely ignored faction of the Ministry. An amused smile was on her face as she stood, and moved to toss the letter into the fire place. But just as the heat of the fire was soothing her hands she stopped. The owl hooted quietly from the window sill and Ana glanced between it and the letter ponderingly. For reasons beyond her knowledge, she took the letter and placed it in a safe folder in her trunk before sending the owl on its way and heading down for the Christmas Supper.

* * * * *

The Christmas feast was something to behold. More students than usual decided to stay for the holiday, which was no surprise. Many of them had parents in similar situations as James, though none of them looked to each other for support, or talked about it openly. Ana would have thought that would have occurred, but as she looked deeper into the issue, they seemed so sure of their parents return that they simply did not need to be reassured. That, and behind their set mind was a fear that Ana had tackled and would mercifully never have to face again: the fear of loosing parents.

Everyone seemed in good spirits for the holidays. Professor Dumbledore had dragged his red and green holiday robes and hat out of his trunk for the occasion, making him look much like a present without the bow. Students laughed and mingled up and down the Great Hall, some with snow still melting in their hair from the mighty quidditch match (that Hufflepuff won, surprisingly). James and Peter were still in the towers, changing their clothes after a most unfortunate incident in which they found themselves at the mercy of Ravenclaws and snowballs. Ana snickered into her steaming spiced cider as visions skirted across her mind.

And Ana was more than welcome to let everyone's good feelings absorb her feelings of facing the darkness on her doorstep. Though it was like trying not to think about an expected bad grade on a test or an unpleasant upcoming task, it worked well to think of other things for a while. And she smiled genuinely when Dumbledore approached her.

"Happy Christmas, Ana," he said, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles, laced with garland for the holidays.

"Merry Christmas, Professor," she returned the greeting enthusiastically. "How is the holiday treating you?"

"Ah," he smiled, "Very well, very well. Professor McGonagall has bestowed on me a most wonderful gift."

"What was it?"

"Lemon drops!" he said, his old figure nearly shaking with excitement. "A year's supply!"

Ana laughed as the most powerful wizard in the known wizardingworld bubbled over the gift of candies. "I hope," she smiled, "you have room for one more present." Reaching into her robes, she pulled out a small package, wrapped in transparent, red paper. Inside, lay a small tower of oreos that Lily had picked up and owled to her the minute she returned home.

Dumbledore's eyes widened at the sight of them. "I do say, Ana, I will be a wider man by the end of next year! Thank you very much," he smiled. "And, it so happens that I have a gift for you as well."

A pit grew in Ana's stomach as the man who had done so much for her, taken her into his castle and given her sanctuary from the deepest of evils, led her out of the Great Hall and into the teacher's adjoining room. On the table, wrapped in shining silver paper, sat a square box.

"It belonged to your father," he said, extending his arm towards it. "And I think, perhaps, it is time it went to its rightful owner."

Ana, feeling stupid at the thought of giving the man oreos, approached the box slowly. Even before she opened it, she could feel the greatness of its contents and the sense of her father and those before him.

"It's old," she commented, staring at the outside of the box.

"Very old, indeed," nodded Dumbledore.

Slowly, and lifted the lid of the box, and parted the silver silk that lay within it. She gasped as she lifted out (with difficulty) the crystal ball that lay within. Setting it on the table, she viewed it in awe. The ball itself was perhaps thirty centimeters in diameter, and the white, swirling fog glowed in a translucent white as it moved slowly within the ball's interior. More impressive was the stand, made of crystal, silver and glittering sapphires in the shape of seven glittering butterflies that balanced the ball on their outstretched wings.

"Are they real?" she asked, running her hands along the blue stones of the butterflies wings, almost appearing as eyes looking in every direction.

"Quite real, yes," nodded Dumbledore. "I'm afraid that it is very, very valuable, and I would hope that you would be very careful with it."

"I can't keep it in my dormitory," she whispered, still running her hands over the butterflies. Taking a closer look, she found each to be standing on a crystal star base.

"I doubt it would be any safer in the DivinationsTower," agreed Dumbledore. "If it is your wish, I would be more than willing to keep it in my office. But I think, perhaps, as you advance, you will be using it quite often. There is a largely unused tower on the west side of the castle with a room that I think would suit you well as a study room, if you would like. We could have it protected as the house dormitories are, if you so choose."

Ana's mouth hung open as she regarded the generous man before her. She wanted to say that it wasn't necessary, but it was growing increasing difficult to concentrate in the presence of Professor Pyrre's domain of the DivinationsTower. And her dormitory and the Common Room were never suitable for proper divination meditations. Unable to come up with an honest excuse, she nodded in astonishment. "Thank you," she breathed, hardly able to find words.

He smiled, very much satisfied, and Ana's eyes wandered back to the crystal ball. The white mist swirled gracefully, parting just for a moment to expose a dark shape of a bird. But the mist swirled back again, hiding it from view. Still shaking her head in amazement, Ana gently heaved the crystal ball into the box, and gathered it up.

"No need," said Dumbledore hastily. "I will see that it will arrive safely in the tower. But perhaps we should return to the Great Hall, for the House Elves have surely outdone themselves this year." He placed the oreo package in his pocket and invited her back to the Hall with a wave of his hand. Ana followed, numbly, walking from a moment of sheer, honored happiness to one of further joy. Everyone was making their way to the only table in the Great Hall, which was covered in a rich red tablecloth with brass dishes gleaming in the light of the candles and sunlight that illuminated the grand ballroom. Ana always knew she loved the holidays, but as she walked towards the crowd of celebrants, she had no trouble ignoring the problems of the world.

Absently, her eyes made their way out of the gleaming glass windows to watch the snow falling and swirling, blanketing every object on the outer scene in a white fog. Vaguely, she could see trees and the lake and the quidditchpitch. If she looked harder, she could even see the far gates at the edge of the property, and a new visitor stepping through. Dressed in a black cloak, the stranger, a man, bundled himself in his clothing, which whipped and flapped like black wings in the blustering white snow. Ana shivered, as the all too familiar coldness returned, though only briefly, as she was distracted by voices behind her.

"Ana! Come on!" yelled out Peter from the table. Turning, she saw him waving frantically to a spot near him and James, wearing a new white sweater from his grandmother. James wore his bright red sweater that Lily loved so much, and Ana could see why. Against his dark hair and dark eyes, the color suited him well. Ana warmed at the sight of them, and stepped towards the table eagerly, pausing only to bend down next to Dumbledore, already seated at the head of the table, and whisper, "There's someone here." She pointed out the window as she stepped over to James and Peter and sat down.

Through the corner of her eye, she saw Dumbledore stand and walk to the window, gazing out through the glass. One of the professors stood to join him, and they conversed in hushed tones as they both shook their head in confusion. Dumbledore whispered something in firmly and the professor nodded and returned to the table, leaving Dumbledore to retreat towards the doors of the Great Hall.

Students were gradually making their way to the table as well as professors, and Ana couldn't help but notice some of the Ravenclaws giving James and Peter very satisfied looks. They on the other hand seemed well to ignore them, or distract themselves with the prospect of Christmas dinner. But Ana would smile and wish them a happy Christmas. One student in particular, a darker skinned girl by the name of Katrina, wore a beautiful Ravenclaw sweatshirt with a thestately silhouette of an eagle across front. Ana complimented her on it, but returned her attention to Peter and James.

But, quite suddenly, it struck her. She could have laughed, if it weren't for the seriousness of the nature, that she, a True Seer, had overlooked the signs... the dark bird in the crystal ball... the dark figure of the stranger... the shirt on the Ravenclaw... Ana pondered for a moment what it all could mean. A black bird. There were many black birds, ravens and crows for example. But as she smiled and pretended to listen to James's recollection of the Yule Ball that had occurred just a few weeks prior, her eyes were distracted by his red sweater, which seemed to glimmer brighter than the red table cloth, the red ribbons on the Christmas tree, or any other color red in the room. And Ana knew, knew as a stab wound to the heart. The black owl. The red letter.

Shaking, she stood, not very sure why she was standing or if she intended to go anywhere. Ignoring James's and Peter's looks, she carefully stepped around her chair and floated towards the door of the Great Hall, flashes of her red and black surroundings standing out as they would against the fog of the winter snowfall. Pushing open the doorway to the hallway, she needed not to wander far to see a very solemn-looking Dumbledore standing in the open doorway, greeting an elderly man who stood, and shook the white snow of himself pointedly. And though Ana had never met the man before in her life, or seen pictures, or had even heard of him, she knew by his familiar eyes and some unseen aura, that this man could only be one person.

Dumbledore and he exchanged a long, silent glance before Dumbledore lowered his eyes and turned. "I will let Mr. Potter know you are here," he said, sounding quite older than he had seemed just minutes ago. The elderly stranger nodded, his eyes dropping as well as he buried his hands in his cloak for warmth. Dumbledore's eyes met Ana's as he ascended the stairs to the Great Hall. Exchanging a brief glance, he stopped by her side. "I don't think this is a time for anyone besides James and his grandfather," he replied, turning her back towards the Great Hall. Ana let herself be guided, still feeling the chill of the air that was let in from the blizzard outside. Through the glass mirror, she saw the reflection of the elderly man, taking his hands out of his black cloak pocket, grasping two, distinctly two, red envelopes.

* * * * *

James returned to Hogwarts the day before classes began, like everyone else, though he was so visibly broken, that he was unrecognizable in his own way. A double funeral had proven a great toll on him, and Ana wished she could have been there with him (as everyone else was), but her protection, in Dumbledore's eyes, was far more important than the support of her friend. If any good luck could be found in the situation, it was that James did not have to pack his things out of his home. Family money had paid for his tuition, and the house was more than paid off. His grandfather, as one of the few kind things the man had ever done for any relation of his disowned daughter, had gruffly agreed to sign off on James's inheritance of the house and family fortune, keeping it safe until James was of position and age to own it independently. But be a surrogate parent, his grandfather would not, for reasons kept well within the Potter, or rather, the Newcastle (-as was Elizabeth Potter's maiden name) family.

And it was taking its toll on everybody. Besides James, who was largely prone to constant mood swings in addition to his nature to try and deal with it with as much poise as could be expected of him, Lily swore that he would never be the same. Night after night, she would return to the dormitory in tears, not saying anything besides how he wouldn't talk to her. Sirius became angry when James wouldn't talk with him either. Remus remained worried but passive and Peter avoided the conflict all together. If there was one given truth about the situation, it was that one should never, ever bring up James's parents around him, whether talking about them, or about their death, for no one really could tell what James would do besides simply walk away.

To Ana, he felt like an empty box, or a wall to a wide, open room. All of his emotions seemed to come at her at once, but she couldn't sense much of anything behind them. It was nothingness. Like a wall without a room. And Ana could only guess that James himself didn't even know what filled that vacuum void.

The suggestion came to Ana one day during a talk with Remus. Cuddled on a sofa in Ana's new, personal divinations tower at the end of January, the topic of James came up rather casually.

"How is he doing, really?" Ana asked Remus.

He sighed shortly and he pondered his response. "I think you would probably know a lot more than I would."

"What my powers see-"

"-Not because of your powers," he interrupted, "but because you've been there. Peter was too young when he lost his parents to remember anything, and Lily and Sirius and I still have both of ours. You're probably the closest thing he has to relate to."

"But he's no better?"

"He won't be until he starts talking about it." Ana sat up, and looked down at Remus, her dark hair raining towards his face, and he gazed up at her as he tucked some of her layers behind her ear. "Will you talk to him? I know it would mean so much to Lily and the rest of us."

Ana averted her gaze. "I suppose if he'll talk to me, I will listen."

* * * * *

The warmth of Christmas had more than cooled, leaving Ana to walk in the corridors of Hogwarts, feeling the darkness of the ways of the world beneath her feet with every step. Sometimes she wished with all her might that she could make the feeling go away, the dreams go away, the visions go away, just for one day. But somehow she felt that the granting of that wish would only make matters worse. And she began to see the omens more clearly with every passing week, until she was no longer surprised when the owls carrying letters in red envelopes swooped into the Great Hall to deliver the telegrams of death to non-expecting (or awaiting) students. Kezia suggested that Ana begin trying to talk to the students about the will of the stars, but Ana was quite sure that was the last thing that they wanted to hear upon the loss of their parents.

It was at the beginning of February when Ana watched the all too familiar red envelope enter the Great Hall, carried upon the talons of a dirty-brown owl. Most students looked up woefully and fearfully. Ana watched it dully, already knowing who the person was that passed on and whose father he was. She also knew that the student, a first year Gryffindor, knew from the moment the letter entered the hall, that it was going to her. She was pale long before the owl dropped it into her hands. People looked on quietly as she held the unopened letter in her hands, and professors were approaching quickly. Ana glanced up at James, who was watching with tired, wide eyes, with an emotion that almost seemed nauseating. Lily, who was next to him, put her hand over his, but he quietly dismissed himself, stood, and left the hall. Lily stared into her plate. Sirius picked at his food. Peter looked after James intently as he left. Remus looked at Ana.

From the other end of the table, Ana could see the young Gryffindor, trying to work her way into some emotion, whether anger or pain, as she ignored the professors speaking to her. She remembered that feeling. She didn't really know what to she was supposed to do, or say, when she received the information about her mother. In many ways, she didn't believe it. In others, she had known it all along. And the young Gryffindor, who lived just down the hall, without a drop of psychic in her, was reacting in the same way.

Ana thought of James, as she turned at nodded to Remus as she stood, and walked towards the hall doors, stopping only to give Lily a squeeze on the shoulder. A quick thought of the school, and Ana knew that James was in the library. She tried to read his mind, but it seemed quiet. Climbing the stairs, she rehearsed things that she could say to James. But the butterflies in her stomach reminded her that there was nothing that she could do or say that hadn't been said or done already. Regardless, she stepped through the library doors quietly, finding James seated at a table, bending over a book.

"What are you reading?" she asked, sitting down.

He looked up, but immediately returned his gaze to the reading. "Just some curses," he muttered, turning a page in self-distraction.

"Trying to find out about the one that killed your parents?" Ana asked simply. It was all very clear to her, without even trying to search his mind. Unfortunately, his head snapped up and he gave her a startled glare. Ana shrugged, not relenting. "Well? Aren't you?"

He shifted uncomfortably, still glaring at her. "It's no big deal, I'm just curious," he grumbled.

Ana could almost feel his defensive shields rising. "That's fine. I probably would have done the same thing if I knew what kind of curse killed my father." She felt a pang in her heart, not knowing whether it was her own or James's.

James paused from his reading (or his attempt), and gave Ana a pondering look. Then, with a slight frown he looked back down at the book. "Ana, I really don't want to talk about this."

"No, no one ever does," replied Ana stubbornly. "You understand why I tried to keep my mom's death a secret?" James was growing impatient, she could tell. But at the same time, she saw him nod slightly as he turned a page absently. Not wanting to mess around any further, Ana sighed and leaned back in her chair. "So how are you doing, considering the circumstances?"

James didn't answer, but that didn't surprise her. She felt the anger that she was accustomed to when people had continually asked her, with undying sympathy, how she was doing after her mother's death and after every attack. He read for a while, turning a page, and then turning back a few, taking moments to glance at the index and turn to a new set of pages. Ana watched quietly for several minutes, waiting for his response. After all, he had not left the conversation. And with every page he turned, Ana could feel a new series of emotions building.

Finally, he snapped. With a sudden jerk, he slammed the book closed and glared at Ana with fierce, dark eyes. "How did you do it?" he demanded.

"How did I do what?" she asked, herself somewhat startled.

"How could you live not knowing how your father died?"

Ana raised an eyebrow at the thought. "Well, I was very young, and what matters is-"

"But serious, Ana," rambled James, "I mean, somebody killed your parents! Both of them! Voldemort killed your mother, when she didn't do a bloody thing!"

Ana fumbled for words, "You move on, James, I know it's hard but-"

"How can you move on," he asked, a disconnected look on his face, "when you don't even know how they died?"

"Well, what do you want?" asked Ana pointedly. "You want to have someone replay the scene in front of you so that you can watch your parents die?" James seemed to consider this before his eyes lowered. "No," continued Ana gently, "you don't want that. Nobody wants to watch their parents die."

James had to clear his throat before he spoke again, his eyes jerking around. Ana could see and feel James allowing himself the privilege of showing emotion. "I just want to know..." he said, his voice shuddering, "...I just want to know if they... you know..."

Ana moved to get into his line of sight, and she looked him directly in the eye, knowing full well what he wanted to know, for she had thought it time and time again. "You want to know if they were in pain," she offered.

James shuddered and turned away, taking a few steps from the table, and glancing out the window, if just to not look at Ana. From behind, she saw him take off his glasses and pinch the corners of his eyes. It was a moment before he turned back to her, his face very set, and very firm.

"I just want to know if they were in pain," he agreed. "But there were no people there to see their deaths... they were separated from the rest of the aurors... You're right, Ana... no one wants to see their parents die... but sometimes, I wish I could just see... " he trailed off. He raised his eyes to hers, his eyes full of pain and helplessness. "I just want to see, just want to know if-"

But he stopped, very suddenly. He stared at Ana very, very hard, as if seeing something about her for the first time. "What is it?" she asked him, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

"It's just... you're eyes... they're so bright..."

Ana's blue eyes were nothing new to James. She stared at him, trying to read his thoughts, though all she could see where the wheels turning in his head, which made her very, very nervous.

"So," he said, clearly trying to come off casually, but the desperation being clear in his question, "you could pretty much see anything... being a Guardian and all..."

Ana felt herself rise to her feet. "Oh... James... I-"

"You've talked about your powers, and how you could conceivably see things that were, are, will be... even the things that aren't even real?"

"Yes," agreed Ana, but continuing quickly, "but you hardly believe in this stuff, right? Remember?" she prodded, nervously trying to coax him out of the idea that he had definitely planted in his mind.

But he would have none of it. "Ana," he said, looking at her directly in the eyes, I will rest easy when I know whether or not my parents were in pain. Until then, it's just a bunch of questions. Just a bunch of nightmares," he added distantly. "Just do this one thing for me Ana, please. Will you try to find out how they died? Try to see it? And then tell it to me?" He gazed squarely at Ana, not letting her look elsewhere. "Please, Ana, please."

Ana's mouth was hanging open as her own mind blanked at the exact moment when she needed it most. She tried desperately to come up with an argument, any argument, for or against James's proposition, but to her horror, she heard herself speak quite clearly.

"Okay..." she said.

"Promise?" James asked, not quite satisfied.

She felt herself nod. "I promise."

* * * * *

Ana paced in her golden divinations tower wearily, waiting for the setting sun to strip the room of its gold color, leaving her with the darkness and the halo of the stars. Remus had left earlier, and she knew that James wouldn't want to be around her that night. On the coffee table before the settee was a medium-sized cardboard box, full of memorabilia from the Potter family.

"How am I going to do this?" she had asked Kezia. Kezia's response was not completely unexpected.

"Do you really need to do anything?"

But Ana had promised. And she felt obligated to James. Of course she did. No matter how much he attempted to be normal and forgiving to Ana, and though Ana could feel no malice within him, she was still the cause of a rather painful summer for him. And she couldn't make it up by joining his pranks, or helping him with his homework- that was too small. But this- seeing what she could see, helping him to feel better - this she could do. And she would do it, and do it honestly, whether Kezia said it was good for him or not.

"So really, where do I even start?" was her question. Slowly, Ana broke her pace and stepped to the box, lifting out items and setting them around her room.

"You tell me," Kezia had replied. Ana picked up a gray cardigan, obviously hand-knitted and made with wool thread. And held it to her nose, inhaling the smell of Mr. Potter. In the back of her mind, she could see a young James running up to his father and being caught up in his lap, where they shared pastry as James pretended to be interested in the issue of The Daily Prophet his father had read.

"What will you need, Ana? Cards?"

The next item was a family photo, Mrs. Potter trying to smooth James's hair as he sat, very much embarrassed and Mr. Potter playfully giving his mother tips.

"No cards. Cards won't show me things past, or anything good for that matter."

"Palms?"

Setting the photo on the fireplace mantel, Ana reached in the box and pulled out a map Kezia had provided. A large, red circle drew her attention to a city of Belfast, Ireland, the place where the murders occurred.

"No palms available."

"Stars?"

Ana next pulled out a pair of keys. Ana could see a black, ivy-covered fence surrounding a gothic country mansion.

"Stars will only tell me where to look, if that."

"Tealeaves?"

A pair of white, satin gloves and silver hand mirror, both very old. Ana's blue-eyed, shadowed. reflection was seen in the darkness of the last minutes of sunlight.

"No tealeaves. Caffeine, maybe."

"Then what, young guardian, is your only option?"

The last item was a small, black, draw-string velvet pouch, which sat roundly in Ana's open hand. Ana ran her hand over the opened pouch, and felt her heart twist. Pulling at the strings gently, she opened it, and let its contents fall into her waiting hands.

"Crystal ball. It's the only way to go."

"I agree. What else?"

"Probably some familiar family objects."

"Did you want me to stay?"

Ana, having emptied the box, set it on the ground, still holding the contents of the velvet pouch fast in her grip. Moving to the crystal ball table, she set herself in the luxurious chair, and removed the silver silk cover from the piece. The white smoke swirled as it always did, waiting for Ana's eyes to burn it away.

"No, I don't think so. I think this is something I have to do on my own."

"Be patient then, and wait for it to come to you."

Ana let the contents of her hand fall onto the lace tablecloth: two golden wedding bands. She rested her head on the back of the chair and closed her eyes as the sun fell below the horizon, allowing the stars full reign of the sky.

"I will wait all night, if I have to."

"Stars be kind, then."

* * * * *

Belfast, Ireland was a unique city, ranging from the ancient to the modern from one street corner to the next. Once grand copper statues and plating seemed now a chalky sea green. But the sea was lovely. Built on a bay, it was a natural seaport, and perhaps, was the only reason why it became as large as city as it did. It was gray during the day and black at night, at least from what Ana saw, and it was not a place, judged on this impression, that she would ever want to visit. For she was most certainly advancing in her powers, and the city, the jewel of the North, seemed nothing more to her than a hub for some of the most radical wizards and witches- good and bad- that Ana had ever encountered. Ana wondered if the stars even had a say of what when on in this corner of the Island, for not only were the powers and struggles strong, but Irish, too.

Ana had let her hair down as she sat, curled in a blanket before her family crystal ball, seeing things clearer than any crystal ball she had ever used. But as fascinating as the city was, Ana needed to see more. Four hours of searching Belfast had turned up nothing.

"I need to see the Potters," she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment a rest. When she opened them, the scenes of Belfast had gone and the white mist had returned, glowing brighter than it ever had, filling the room with a blinding light. Ana squinted against it, trying to see its source, but found herself immersed in it so fully that she couldn't even see the rest of the room. Just the blinding light. And perhaps it was spots of darkness that came naturally when being blinded, but Ana swore she saw the silhouette of a woman with dark flowing hair. The silhouette stood before her and Ana struggled to keep her eyes on it. It reached out its misty hand and Ana, against better judgement took it. And everything went black.

Voices filled her mind. So many voices that she couldn't keep track. Screams. Cries. Shouts. And loudest of all, a whisper.

"Be strong."

When there was light in the room once more, Ana found herself not in her divinations room, but in a shadowy stone room, lit only by one fire torch in the center of the room.

She could hear footsteps and yells seeping out of the connecting tunnels, but Ana made no attempt to hide. She would not be seen. A crowd of jeering and laughing men and women in black robes entered, dragging two people behind them in chains. Mr. Potter, stumbling and limping was one, followed by a very sedate looking Elizabeth. She walked calmly, in a daze, and Ana didn't need to guess that she was in a trance.

The Death Eaters laughed as they yanked the chains, forcing Mr. Potter to fall to the stone floor with a muffled grunt. Untouched, the black-robed figures kicked him and forced him to his feet, taking his chains and attaching it to a hook that dangled from the razor pointed ceiling. By magical force the hook raised, jerking William off the ground by nearly half a meter.

"I love to see a man in chains," whispered woman with voluptuous red lips. They were the only feature exposed behind her black hood. She cackled as she ran her hands down his legs and chained his feet to a facet on the floor stretching his long body out vulnerably.

"Caught spying on us, were ya?" jeered a taller death eater.

"And what did you see?" added another darkly.

"HORRIBLE crimes?" asked one, shuddering in mock disgust.

"MURDER?"

"DARK ARTS?"

"Well, William Potter," said the first one humoringly, "You've ain't seen nothin' yet."

Ana's eyes wandered nervously to William's face, which was staring lovingly at his wife, who stood behind the crowd, wearing her chains with disinterest as she gazed blankly at the floor. Ana could hear his thoughts. "I love you, Elizabeth." His face was softer than it had been when Ana had seen him. Behind the bruises and blood were soft, accepting eyes which nearly broke Ana's heart in two.

Shuddering, Ana shook her head fiercely. "Stop... Stop..." With enough effort, she opened her eyes, and found herself in the divinations room.

She rested her head in her hands, trying to erase the look from her mind. She had done well up until that point. The jeers and the taunts of the death eaters... the chains... she had expected torture. But not his eyes. Not his eyes...

Her eyes wandered to the picture of the Potters on the fire place mantel. Having grown up in a single parent home, Ana never could imagine such a close love between its members. They were, in fact, the perfect family. Mr. Potter, poised and professional. Mrs. Potter, loving and kind. James, all of the above. But the broken, yet so gathered look on William's face only made it harder for Ana. She stood and retrieved a glass of water before she continued, finding her way back to the place where she had left off.

"William Potter," was the call of one of the Death Eaters, snickering behind the mock formality, "you are hearby charg'd with bein' nothin' but an upstandin' citizen, serving the ministry with all yerheart." The death eater wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "For such charge, there is only one punishment."

"DEATH!" cackled the woman with the voluptuous lips. "Your 'pure' auror blood'll paint the walls of our fortress when we're finished with you."

"Ah, ah, but wait a minute," interrupted the 'judge', "We probably should let him speak."

"Oh, of course," laughed a few.

"Naturally," added the others, beginning to open their backs of weapons and dumping them onto the floor.

"So speak, Sir William, and perhaps by amusing us further, you will bring yourself a quick death."

William was still wearing the look as he gazed at his wife. He took the opportunity gladly. "Elizabeth, I know you can hear me, even if you cannot answer..." A few death eaters snickered.

"-but I love you, and you know I do, and there is nothing you can do that will change that. Nothing."

"Nothing?" asked death eater, laughing.

"Di' he say, 'nothing?'" laughed another.

"Well, Elizabeth," spoke a Death Eater who had not yet spoken, but spoke very clear now, "COME HERE."

Her body jerked in an almost mechanical way as she approached her cursed commander.

"Good," he said darkly. "Now pick up this sword at my feet."

At first she bent slightly, but she stopped. Ana could see her eyes clear momentarily. She was fighting it.

"DO IT," said the Death Eater, more clearly, his voice deeper than before. And she immediately fell with gravity to reach the sword, and stood stiffly.

"Now," continued the death eater. "Go to your husband, and..."

Ana groaned as she took herself out of the vision once more. She stood, and paced for a moment before she forced herself back into her chair, and her mind to clear. She brought herself back.

Elizabeth was holding the sword steadily against her suspended husband, who gazed down at her with forgiving eyes.

"Go on," prodded the death eater. "Do it."

The crowd snickered. "Show him how much you love him, Elizabeth!"

Ana looked away when she did it, but she heard William's gasping groan. Eventually, she turned her eyes back to see blood poring from his stomach, where his wife had stabbed him.

"Now," commanded the Death Eater, "Take him apart."

Ana swore she would vomit right there, but was so startled by Elizabeth dropping the sword to her feet that she was brought back to focus. Slowly, the woman, who resembled James in so many ways, reached into her husband's stab wound with both hands, twisting and turning in his soft, warm innards, ignoring the cries of her husband, grabbing at the slippery organs. And could her it from her position. Ana, loosing all feeling, watched as she ripped William apart, bodily material falling to her feet. William had gone silent and lifeless, though he was not completely dead at that point.

"Take his heart," the death eater instructed. His body was lowered enough for Elizabeth to reach way up into his chest. At that moment, the commanding Death Eater laughed low in his throat, and Ana understood why. At that moment, Elizabeth Potter's eyes widened, back to focus, to see her own hands in the flesh of her husband, up and beyond her elbows, his blood spilling down her body.

She staggared backwards, wearing a look that Ana forced herself not to feel, choking for words and control, but she fell to the floor, and scooted back from the blood pile. The fair skin that her and her son shared had gone significantly paler.

"Elizabeth," scolded one of the Death Eaters, though a laugh hung in the air, "look at what you've done!"

She shook her head. "No..."

"But look at your hands, Elizabeth. You are covered in your husband's life blood."

"NO!" she said, gasping for air.

"It was your fault you got captured, and your fault he's dead, Elizabeth," taunted another black-hooded fiend.

Ana couldn't tell if she were hyperventilating or sobbing, but at that moment, she suddenly went blank again.

"Stand up," commanded the Death Eater, and she complied blankly. "Say it, Elizabeth. Say you killed your husband."

"I killed my husband," repeated the woman absently.

"Oh, make her say she enjoyed it," laughed the woman with the red lips.

"Say you enjoyed it," was the command.

"I enjoyed killing my husband," Elizabeth Potter's lifeless puppet repeated. The Death Eaters hooted with dark laughter. But suddenly, her body jerked, and there was a dark light in her eyes. "But not as much as I will enjoy killing you..."

The Death Eaters had little time to get over their shock before she lunged toward the sword at her feet and charged toward them, dragging her chains with her, in one last heroic fight.

* * * * *

Kezia opened her eyes.

It was already light at LeBabTower, but the bright skies did not mean that the stars did not speak to her. She was a Guardian. They would speak to her every day, every minute, every second for the rest of her life. She knew, of course, that Ana had seen. And for a moment, Kezia saw the vision of blood on her own hands.

"She's young," she said.

"Do you think it was wise to let her see?" asked Michael, who was reclining in a chair by the sunny window, gazing out to the magnificent grounds of the Tower. There was a quietness in his normally laughing voice that one rarely heard from the hazel-eyed Guardian.

"She needed to learn sometime..." shrugged Kezia.

"Yes," agreed David, who was learning against a pillar on the other side of the lounge, his green eyes standing out against the white room, "but such a thing to see. She's only sixteen years old."

"You'll break her," Vespera reminded her, giving her a look to bring back their conversation.

"I will not," Kezia said softly.

"She may be broken, whether you do it or not," David supported Vesperagently.

"Kezia, perhaps I was too quick to suggest you take on such a responsibility," offered Michael apologetically. "With the amount of work we have to do, we can hardly find time to keep track of Ana, and that means that you're pretty much on your own. I know you wanted responsibility, but perhaps-"

"-Perhaps," replied Kezia quietly, "we need to stop and think about the fact that though I am young, I am a Guardian, just like the rest of you..."

"Yes, Kezia, we don't doubt that," stepped in David.

"She is strong," continued Kezia, standing. "She can take care of herself. She knows her responsibility, and her powers are increasing rapidly.

"So where is she at, then," demanded Vespera.

Kezia answered her in her own way. "She'll be stronger after today, and stronger the day after. And someday, she may be the strongest of all of us."

"Perhaps, Kezia, perhaps," conceded Michael, "but we have missed much time with her, after the measures Omritook to keep her hidden from us for so many years. If she's as smart as her father was, and we must admit he was smart, if nothing else -"

"Traitorous fool, if you ask me," added Vespera quietly.

"-but intelligent at the same time," continued Micahel. "And if Ana is as smart or as gifted as Omri, or any of the other Anblicks, she must be watched as closely as possible, which will be tough, considering the psychic block."

"Michael," breathed Kezia with obviously forced patience, "I have it under control."

"But what she's seeing is still too much for a girl her age, in my opinion," stated David.

"But she's not a girl, David," said Kezia distantly. "She's a Guardian."

"Well she sure as hell is now," muttered Vespera dryly, folding her arms and leaving the room.

* * * * *

Ana slowly put the silver silk over the Anblick crystal ball, unable to speak, unable to cry, and unable to block the repeating memory of Elizabeth's death. There had been nine death eaters, and Ana wasn't sure what was more horrible, the sheer numbers or her enemy. They had done considerably worse to her than William, and Ana was not surprised that they had cremated the bodies for the funerals. It probably made them look better.

She stood in the firelight slowly, looking out at the night sky. For the first time, she looked and saw the expanse of it. It didn't end. Not upwards, not outwards... it spread across everything she could see. And she felt nothing.

It was nearly three o' clock in the morning when she gathered the pictures and the sweater and everything that she had been given to assist her in her task. She folded the map and sweater neatly. She avoided her reflection in the silver hand mirror. She used her wand to put the rings back in the pouch. She did not want to see any more tonight. Picking up the picture as the very last item, she could hear James's desperate voice.

"... You're right, Ana... no one wants to see their parents die... but sometimes, I wish I could just see.... Just do this one thing for me Ana, please.... Promise..."

The word promise echoed in her mind as she placed the family picture back in the box. She stepped up to the balcony doors and gazed through the glass, her brilliant blue eyes looking back at her through the darkness. She looked away.

Elizabeth Potter's screams were still fresh in her mind as she moved to the fire to try to warm the chill off of her. At that moment, someone knocked on the portrait door. She heard the voice say the password, "Credyn," as it stepped through. Neither surprise nor unnerve took over Ana. She had seen him coming all night.

He looked around the dark room nervously as he cleared his throat.

"Ana, it's almost three thirty in the morning."

She said nothing in reply.

He continued. "Filch will have your neck if he finds you."

Ana couldn't help but smile, though it was more shadowed than any smile she had wore before. The worries of world on were on her shoulders. But to a young wizard, the powers of the almighty Filch consumed his mind.

"What are you smiling at?" asked James, looking at her cautiously.

"Lesser mortals," said Ana, answering questions with questions. "Don't worry James, I was just about to return to the tower."

James frowned at her in confusion. "Are you all right?"

Ana saw her reflection through the mirror by the portrait. A small confirming smile came across her face that was performed with the accuracy of a Broadway star. "Fine, thank you," she answered.

His eyes wandered to the box on the coffee table. He shifted uneasily, hesitating before asking. "...Did you... I mean..." he fumbled for words.

"Not yet," she smiled reassuringly, the politician's smile spreading across her face. "Come on James, let's head back."

At that, she stepped and brushed passed him, walking steadily into the pitch black corridor.

* * * * *

Everyone noticed a change in Ana, which comforted Ana greatly. According to Dumbledore, she seemed happier than at the beginning of the year. According to Sirius and Peter, she was back to her old self. To Lily, she was the roommate she had grown to love. And Remus? Though he gave her scrutinizing looks from time to time, he was gradually beginning to accept that she was better. And Ana breathed a sigh of relief. It was what she wanted them to think.

She practiced her smile in front of the mirror in her divinations tower, and her speech to James when she would make it. A month passed, and her excuse to James had not changed. "I haven't seen anything yet." She forced herself to practice walking with her head up and to laugh with bright eyes, and to mask the darkness that surrounded her. And everyone was satisfied with the result. Everyone except Kezia.

She watched Ana one day in March, not long after Remus's birthday as she roamed back and forth in the tower, stopping in front of the mirror, practicing her smile and speech.

"Your parents fought bravely, James.... No, I can't say that they 'fought.' Too harsh of a word." Ana thought aloud. She glanced at Kezia, who sat in her chair, staring out the window sedately. Ana searched her expression, it becoming easier and easier with every day that passed. "You're worried about me."

"Perhaps," agreed Kezia softly. "You are angry."

"I am not," frowned Ana, folding her arms across her chest defiantly.

"Don't forget who you're talking to, young Guardian," smiled Keziawith shadows behind her dusty purple eyes. "You may be gaining power at a phenomenal speed, but I still see more than you do and feel more than you do, and I can feel the chill coming off of you, even behind that well rehearsed smile."

Ana set her jaw , letting the smiling mask fade naturally from her face. "How can you possibly feel more than I do? Don't tell me that there's even more pain out there in the world even worse than I what I've been dealing with." A simple glance from Kezia was all that was needed in answer. Ana felt ill. "Unbelievable."

"But once the Circle is complete, we will begin to ease some of the world's pain. We'll take Voldemort out of power, and find cures to diseases, and-"

"-find peace for ourselves?" asked Ana directly, with obvious hidden hope.

"It's our job to provide for others," said Kezia gently.

"And who provides for us?" laughed Ana, though shakily as paced before the portrait.

"We have to find our own peace."

"But we can't block our psyche. If the stars want us to know something (which they always do), they'll find a way to tell us, whether we want to or not. I've tried blocking the pain, but it just doesn't work. It always-"

"-it comes back stronger than before, I know," finished Kezia. "And pain killers and cheering potions and tranquilizers don't work. This is nothing new Ana. Guardians have gone through this for generations and generations, and at what cost? Great advances for man kind- wizard and muggle."

Ana had no answer to the argument without sounding selfish. "It's just not fair," shrugged Ana.

Kezia stood and walked over to her and hugged her close. "You're not alone, young Guardian. And you will have a more than comfortable and safe life, well protected and guarded by every power that we possess."

"If I decide to join the Circle."

"Is it really still a question of if, Ana? Soon, I will bring you to LebabTower, and you will see for yourself what waits for you after Hogwarts. Nothing here can surpass what you will have with us. Nothing. And your joy will be found in easing the pain of others. For you will know more than they, and what you know will make you powerful. And for your power, you will be loved."

"Ease the pain of others," whispered Ana.

Kezia let go of Ana and gazed into her eyes from centimeters away. "It is our calling. For if we spend all our time concentrating on the pain of the world without taking it on, we will go mad. So we must fight it. We must destroy it. We must put pain at ease."

"So what will I tell James?" Ana asked, shrinking slightly.

Kezia did not blink. "You know what you must say."

"Do you do that to your friends?" frowned Ana.

There was a distant, silent look in Kezia's eyes that told Ana many things and nothing at once. "You know what you must say," was her repeated response.

* * * * *

March, April, May... they had passed, and Ana had still not told James. He had asked, occasionally if she had seen anything, but every time, she denied it. Kezia spoke with her repeatedly about putting James at ease. Ana claimed that if she did that, it would ultimately hurt her. Kezia promised it wouldn't.

And at the age of seventeen, Ana Anblick lost the last of innocence she had clasped in her blank palms, submitting herself to her powers in a way she never dreamed.

Yet, ask Ana looked around with newly opened eyes, reading the thoughts of half of the Great Hall in a simple moment of the Hogwarts Graduation Ceremony, she saw only things that she had already known about. Berenice had tripped her in front of everyone on the way in, just like she always did. Snape gave her a disapproving glance from his spot at the Slytherin table. Peter grinned at her. James and Sirius were trying to put a transparency charm on Berenice's graduation robes. Lily scolded them both. Remus gave her hand a squeeze as she sat next to him. Dumbledore's eyes glimmered as he shook the hands of the new graduates. Professor McGonagall nodded approvingly. Parents clapped. Students clapped. Ana clapped. And, perhaps for the first time since the beginning of the year, Ana found order once again.

She smiled at Remus, who smiled back and kissed her nose. She laughed as she let the happiness of others overwhelm her, glad to see that there was happiness in the world after all. But she could still see James watching parents hugging their children with empty eyes.

After the ceremony, Ana pulled James aside, leaving Remus open to be attacked by Berenice, who came bearing her parents, introducing them eagerly. She smiled, but guided James out into the corridor. "I need to talk to you," she said with a small smile, as it was all she could manage against the butterflies in her stomach.

They walked to her DivinationsTower in silence, he knowing what she was about to tell him, though Ana herself wasn't quite sure herself. Her blood began to pump quicker as she got closer to the tower. She had made a promise. But Kezia had a point. But she had made a promise.

James held the portrait door open for her as they stepped into the incredibly bright room. They walked, and Ana dropped to the settee, motioning for James to sit next to her. He sat attentively, sitting straight-backed with fists clenched and sweaty. She couldn't help but smile to herself. James was James, as if it was the only way to describe him. She loved James, Sirius and Peter equally, though all three were distinct and unique in their way. And she did love James. And she had made a promise.

"I saw," Ana spoke simply. James shifted uneasily.

"You saw," he repeated.

Ana nodded in response.

He looked like he was going to be ill. "Show me?"

Ana shivered slightly. "No," she replied. "You will not see your parents death."

He looked like he had been kicked in the chest. "It was horrible, then..."

Ana marveled at his ability to draw conclusions, and was glad that he knew. She breathed a sigh of relief of having him know without her having to say it. But a pit grew in her stomach, and Kezia's words echoed in her mind.

"You know what you must say."

Ana took a deep breath and spoke. "No."

James looked up at her, startled. His eyes questioned her with scrutiny. She looked away.

"No," she said again, fighting for the right words.

"No, what?" he asked eagerly, his bright eyes not missing a beat.

Ana shifted. "No..." she said shakily. "It wasn't horrible. Well... they were killed," she stumbled, wondering where her words were coming from, "...but their death was quick..."

James gazed at her with wide eyes.

"And painless," she whispered. "They didn´t much pain..."

At that moment Ana wanted to run. She stood quickly, turning away, finding herself staring out the window at the skies as the sun shifted to behind the clouds.

James finally spoke, Ana only being able to feel the tears rolling down his face. "No pain?"

And Ana lied again, the vision of Elizabeth's hands covered in the blood and flesh of her husband still vivid in her mind. She closed her eyes, hoping it would go away. "No pain," she said, seeing his mother's sharp eyes turn upon her and the sigh of his father echo through the wind outside of the window.

There was a pause as James considered this. "Look at me," he commanded. Ana took another breath, and prepared the face she had been practicing. No smile crossed her lips, but as she turned, her eyes and face were still as she gazed James in the eye. She wasn't prepared to see the state of his face as he had taken off his glasses and had stood to meet her eyes with his tear-soaked own. "Please, Ana, I need you to swear that what you're telling me is true."

Ana almost gasped, but played her role well. "James, I don't think-"

"-Swear it," he said sharply, yet still quietly.

Ana set her jaw as she feared she would cry. Slowly, and with much thought, she looked directly at him. "I swear it, James."

"Swear on your mother's grave," he insisted.

At that moment, Ana saw in her own reflection in the mirror behind James, her mother take her spot. Her voice shook as she looked away. "I swear it, James..."

He paused, before speaking again, with more authority. "Swear it on your father's grave."

The blue of her eyes conquered the brown of his. "How dare you ask me to-"

"Ana... please..." begged James.

She could almost feel her shadow separating from her soul. Her mouth opened and closed a few times. The silver silk that covered the Anblickcrystal ball seemed to dull, even in the bright morning light. "All right, James," she conceded. "Your parents felt no pain." She took a deep, deep breath. "And I swear it on my father's grave...."