You wouldn't believe how hard it was to find good oil paints in eighteenth century Europe.

Or at least that's what Professor Black had told her in a harsh tone. That she was being much, too demanding, and that requesting fine oil paints, solvents, and mediums, was too much. He had told her if she was a true artist, she would be able to work with what the school could supply- quills, ink, and a few bits of charcoal or pastels here and there.

Piper had responded with. "I am the painter. Not you. I know what I can work with and what I can't."

Professor Black didn't like that.

But, it was a school full of witches and wizards, somewhere somehow someone had managed to cough up at least five half decent jars of oil paints, a canister of turpentine, and a bottle of liquin. She still had some of her brushes on her from the night she vanished from Savannah, she had been leaving her current commission at the time she was chucked back in time.

She removed the olive leather wrap from her bag and untied its straps. It unfurled two rows of brushes and pallet knives and she selected a few that would be decent to work with for this project.

Professor Weasley had provided her with a panel of wood, which was not ideal, the paint wouldn't layer as nicely as it would on canvas or paper, but it would have to do. With her brushes selected and a pallet knife in hand, she got to work.

She scooped out colors of paint and began mixing. The professors had set her up in an old classroom that wasn't being used during the current term and allowed her to work.

Piper had always been a fast painter, it was one of the things that made her mediocre and not spectacular. When you paint too fast, you do not take your time to get certain details right or allow other layers of your painting to dry properly. An impatient painter is a careless painter, at least that was what her professor had told her when she turned in her second painting assignment three weeks early.

But that didn't matter right now, she wanted to get this painting done as soon as possible. She started with a thin layer of her blue, sketching out what she planned to paint, the castle among the hills with the glistening lake. She filled it in with color and it did not take her long at all. When she presented it to Black he studied it with harsh eyes.

"You may go."

He told Piper simply.

"That's it?" She retorted. "Excuse me?" Black raised a brow.

"No 'this is the answer to the ancient texts!' or 'this looks like shit, try again'. Just 'you may go'? That's it?"

"Yes that's it." He said firmly, harsher this time.

"If we need you again we will summon you. Now go join Sallow and Gaunt. I'm sure they can fill your ears with uselessness for hours on end."

⋆｡°✩

"Well?"

Professor Weasley asked after Piper had left and Black sighed as he handed her the painting.

"It's an exact match. A perfect replica."

He continued and took out another painting from a secret compartment within his desk. The compartment was etched with the golden impression of a singular eye. The painting he removed from his desk matched the one Piper had just done to a T. every brush stroke was exactly the same.

"I will tell Onai."

Weasley said with a sigh as she looked at both of the paintings and noted their similarity.

"In the mean time we must prepare." "How?" Black snapped.

"How do we prepare for a threat that cannot be known?" Weasley sighed and she recited Onai's words again, the ancient text.

" When the seer arrives, the greatest danger that cannot be known will unfold ." she uttered. " If the seer is not prepared, time will unravel itself. " she continued. " That is why the seer leaves traces of themself throughout time and space, markings, messages, for humanity to prepare for the greatest threat of all ."

Weasley looked at the painting, her eyes studying it and focusing on the Castle, Hogwarts Castle. It was captured in perfect likeness. Piper's quick work seemed to not sacrifice the accuracy of the castle.

" That which cannot be known ."

"How do we prepare for that?!" Black snapped this time, his voice was harsh and erratic.

"I don't know." Weasley said. "Perhaps Onai will have an answer. She can consult the text."

"She's been consulting the text for years. We don't have anymore answers than we already had." Weasley didn't know what to say. Black had a point. How do you prepare for a threat that cannot be known? Whoever wrote these ancient texts was very good at one thing, being incredibly vague.

"I know." Weasley finally replied. "But it's all we can do so it is what we must do."

⋆｡°✩

It was nearly noon. Piper hadn't shown all morning like she said she would to finish her mural for Hailey at the Cafe. She got nervous. She had called Piper countless times, no answer. The phone didn't even ring, it went straight to voicemail. Every time she sent a text it said "NOT DELIVERED" she became seriously worried. She called the police but they had told her until Piper had been missing for twenty four hours there was nothing they could do.

An alert buzzed her phone and she snatched it up so fast it slipped out of her hands at first.

"Shit!"

She grasped at it and caught it on the second, not first, try. Buttery fingers. Literally. She had been working on the croscants all morning. She checked the alert. It was from a local news company. She read it. Her heart dropped.

"TYLER MCALLEN FOUND DEAD AT AGE 22 IN ALLEY BEHIND LADY AND SONS."

The phone slipped out of her fingers again. Piper was missing and now her brother was dead. Something was seriously wrong.

" Nononono." She muttered. She quickly grabbed her keys and told her boss she had an emergency to take care of as she raced out of the door of the cafe before her boss could argue. She ran to Lady and Sons, Savannah's most famous restaurant, the alley behind it was swarming with police and news crews. She weasled her way through.

A black body bag was being raised to a stretcher and yellow police tape was being unwound around the scene.

"PLEASE!"

She screamed as she made her way to Tyler's corpse.

"HE WAS MY FRIEND!"

She wailed.

"HIS SISTER IS MISSING!"

Tears streamed down her face and an officer quickly stopped her.

"Ma'am this is a crime scene." He said firmly. "I'm going to have to ask you to calm down and step back."

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! HIS SISTER IS MISSING!" She screamed in his face. Another man, a younger one, seemed to hear her. He wore a brown leather jacked and his hair was cut into a neat trim.

"Excuse me."

He made his way over to Hailey who was about to throw hands with the officer, a criminal offense.

"Do you know the deceased?" He asked and Hailey nodded with a sniffle. He looked to the officer.

"I'll handle it from here." The officer shrugged and walked off. "Whatever you say." He mumbled as he went.

"I'm detective Radcliffe."

He introduced himself.

"Hailey." She replied

"How did you know the deceased?" "His sister was my best friend... he was my friend... I just don't understand." "Did you say his sister was missing as well?" Hailey nodded.

"What more can you tell me about her?"