AN: Fasten on your seatbelts kiddos, shit is hitting the fan.

_ _ _ 

I had been reading my father's journals for the past few hours, alone in my bedroom. It was funny, I thought, how we had unknowingly shared a similar habit. I had a diary too, in which I pretty much summed up my days to avoid forgetting them. That's one thing PTSD had given me, a terrible long term memory.

I also had a dream journal, in which I tried to write everything I remembered from my dreams as soon as I woke up. Considering my dreams were supposed to help me understand what was going on in my brain, I thought it was worth a try. But my dream logs had gotten so dark and confusing lately that it honestly bothered me.

It was the same feeling I had while reading my fathers entries. I'd started with the latest ones, with pages covered with the letter 'S'. The handwriting would vary, and the letters sometimes resembled drawings, black ink covering entire pages. The man truly was disturbed.

After a couple of recent journals, I started reading the earliest ones, dated from 1997, around the time my parents had split up. I figured that if I needed answers to my never ending list of questions, this was my best shot.

- Mother insists on visiting. Strange. Maybe she wants to make up for cutting off all ties after my marriage.

- Chloé turned two today. Her eyes are so blue it's unsettling.

- I shouldn't have visited mother. I really, really fucked up.

- I feel like Isabella knows something is up. I can't tell her though. I can't put her at risk.

- I saw him again today. I don't want to go back but I feel like I have no choice.

- His attempts feel like my brain is being sliced opened. I feel like I'm losing my mind.

- I think he was wrong. I was the wrong offspring. He wants to meet Chloé.

- I took Chloé there. She can't go back. I think he was right about her.

- I think I scared Isabella enough. I don't think they will be coming back. I think Chloé will be safe. I performed the Fidelius Charm on her. She will never know about this.

- Had I known about the prophecy, I would have never had a child. I wouldn't wish this curse upon anyone else

I read the last two entries at least a hundred times before grabbing the Standard Book of Spells, to read about the Fidelius Charm.

An immensely complex charm used to hide secret information within the soul of the charm's recipient, who is called a Secret-Keeper. The information is irretrievable unless the Secret-Keeper willingly chooses to reveal it, and only the aforementioned person can do so.

Goosebumps covered my entire body as I read these lines. If I was the recipient, only I could unlock what my father had concealed from me. But could I reveal this secret, if I couldn't even remember what it was?

Draco. Of course.

_ _ _

Draco had apparated to my room mere seconds after I'd texted him to do so. He took the sight of me, surrounded with journals and books, sitting in the middle of my bed. "What's going on?" I patted a spot next to me so he would sit down, which he immediately did.

"I read through my father's journals. There's some really dodgy stuff in there, including him performing the Fidelius Charm on me when I was two, to prevent me from knowing something." Draco bent over the scattered books to read the entries I was pointing to, a frown displayed on his face.

"Since I'm apparently the only one who can reveal this secret, and since I can't remember said secret, I thought you could dig into my brain and look for the memory yourself." Draco's frown deepened as he straightened up and looked at me. "Are you sure? If your father chose to keep it from you, maybe you shouldn't try and find out about it."

I pressed my lips into a thin line. I'd considered it, although very briefly, but curiosity always got the best of me. "Look, I can't deal with secrets. I need to know. I need to understand everything."

Draco slowly nodded and cupped my cheeks in his hands, while I let him access my memories entirely. I felt him trying several ones before finding the one we were both looking for.

_ _ _

My father was kneeling in front of two-year old me, sat on a blue sofa.

My father was kneeling in front of two year old me, sitting on a sofa patiently.

"Ma chérie, Papa va t'expliquer quelque chose de très compliqué. Ne t'inquiète pas si tu ne comprends pas tout, d'accord ? [Honey, Daddy's going to explain something really complicated. Don't worry if you don't understand everything, alright?]

Pourquoi ? [Why?]

Parce que Papa doit le faire pour te protéger ma chérie. [Because Daddy has to, to protect you honey.]

Me protéger des méchants ? [Protect me from bad guys?]

My father gave me sad look before nodding slowly.

Il faut que je te dise un secret. [I need to tell you a secret.]

D'accord. [Okay.]

Tu es une prophétesse, Chloé. Tu es destinée à de grandes choses. Si grandes que des méchants te cherchent. Et ils ne doivent pas te trouver, jamais. D'accord ? [You're a Seer, Chloé. You are destined to great things. So great that bad guys are looking for you. And they can't find you, ever. Okay?]

Oui Papa. C'est quoi une prophétesse Papa ? [Yes Daddy. What's a Seer Daddy?]

I don't think my father ever answered my question. Instead, he performed the Fidelius Charm on me, making me keep this secret within me for what would be the next twenty four years of my life.

_ _ _

Draco and I stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, both our minds racing to comprehend what we had just seen. "Who do you think he was trying to hide you from?" I bit my lip, thinking of the endless possibilities. "Maybe Death Eaters? That would have been what, a year after the end of the First War? Maybe they needed a seer?" Draco shook his head after a minute. "I'm sure I would have heard about it at home, or in meetings. I would have known if we had a secret weapon roaming the muggle world."

I licked my lips slowly, before looking over the diaries' entries once more. "He talks about a 'him' I thought it had to be Voldemort but the dates don't match." My eyes read through the entries quickly before I stopped on one in particular. "Vinda is mentioned in there before shit hits the fan. Maybe it's about her?"

We both remained quiet for a bit, before I sighed, rubbing my eyes harshly. "Fucking hell, first I'm a witch, then a seer? Do you think that's what my dreams are? Visions? Or am I..." Draco suddenly placed a finger to my lips, effectively silencing me and leaned towards my ear. "Someone is listening to us."

My gaze followed his other hand, now pointing at a brown spot on the carpet, right next to my door. It weirdly looked like an... "Extendable ear."

The door burst opened at his words, to reveal Lydia and Ollie, both wearing smug looks on their faces. "Oh well, no need to pretend anymore Oliver, don't you think?" Ollie had a wand raised towards Draco who was trying to grab his. "Oh I couldn't agree more. Pretending to be a muggle for so long was excruciatingly boring." Lydia rolled her eyes dramatically, playing with a wand herself. "You didn't have to live everyday like a muggle for months Oliver, I did."

My brain couldn't comprehend what was happening, my eyes darting between Oliver and Lydia. Speaking of which, she twirled her wand in between her fingers, taking a mocking tone as if she were speaking to a child. "Oh poor, poor Chloé. You do not have a clue, do you? Let me sum it up for you. You're going to follow us, someone very dear to us would like to meet you. And you too, Draco. You're quite popular where we're going." She started tutted as she noticed I was about to talk back to her. "I'm afraid neither of you have a choice on the matter. Accio wands." Both Draco and I's wands flew straight to her left hand and I heard Ollie speak up again. "Incarcerous." Before either of us could move, Draco and I's hands were bonded in our backs and both Lydia and Ollie were urging us to get up.

My eyes darted to Draco. If I would rarely panic, now was the time to do so. He caught on my stare and I immediately felt him entering my mind. "Don't worry. You're worth something to them. You'll be okay." I blinked slowly, only partially reassured. I didn't care much about my own safety, but about his. 

_ _ _

AN: So, who are going to meet?