~Astra~

We didn't find much new about most of the children, but the five who had been missing from the files Teddy had pulled at the auror office were more promising. We knew the names of two of them, Cassie and an eleven-year-old boy named Ryder Portland. There were dozens of articles about each of them, about the vicious murders of their families. They were the first two disappearances, and the sloppiest, Poppy observed. At some point, they'd started trying to make everything look like an accident, with a lot of house fires or carbon monoxide leaks, but the murders of the Williams and Portland families were gruesome enough to have made the news for several weeks, until hope of finding the children had waned enough to let the stories fade.

Cassie had been in her first year of primary school. Her family had been sweet people, according to their neighbors, though a little closed off, especially the little girl. Cassie's teacher called her precocious and very independent. She was smart, but a little odd, it seemed, and always daydreaming. I mean, that made sense, considering it seemed like she was probably a witch and a seer. I'd never been called smart as a kid, but odd? For sure. Poppy said that matched up with what her primary school teachers had said about her, then her younger brother, too.

Ryder Portland's family had been killed in their sleep, and the muggle authorities had chalked it up to an attempted break-in. Ryder's disappearance got a lot less focus than it should have, but still enough to get some information about him. Ryder had been quiet, hadn't made friends easily, had avoided people. He had turned eleven a few weeks before disappearing. There were several pictures of him that Poppy saved for future reference.

We found an interview with Ryder's older brother, Jarred, who had been away at university when his parents and two younger sisters had been murdered, and his brother had disappeared. Jarred also said that his brother had been a little odd, sometimes, but a normal kid. Apparently, he'd been bullied by some of the other boys at his primary school for being weird. Jarred brushed over it in favor of talking about the tragedy, but he did claim that "there are perfectly normal explanations for all the weird things those little pricks made fun of Ryder for."

That was a very small part of the interview, but after Poppy read that, she paused to frown at us. "It sounds like he might've been a wizard."

Albus's eyes widened. "Do you think it's a coincidence?"

"I'm not sure I believe in coincidences anymore," Poppy said.

That opened up the question of if other children who had disappeared weren't actually muggles. We breezed back through a couple of articles about other kids, and started to notice that the obligatory descriptions of the families and children all had a couple of similarities. The families were all nice, or respectable, or lovely people, but "just a little closed off from people, if you know what I mean." The children were all independent or not quite all there or even outright weird. All things that'd we'd overlooked before, but now seemed like clues. Stillens wasn't just collecting children. He was collecting muggleborn witches and wizards.

The question that we couldn't figure out was why?

At around two in the morning, Poppy stumbled across an obscure muggle conspiracy theory blog that had documented all three children who had been erased from existence. Yes, it did attribute the disappearances to alien abduction, but it had scrounged up mountains of information that we never would have been able to find.

Emma Chaudhary had been a four-year-old from London who had been entirely erased from existence last July. The theorist had found her birth certificate by looking through thousands of hospital records from the area (probably illegal). Her parents' names matched the young couple who had been murdered and had a room set up for a small child in their flat but no evidence of ever having or trying to have a child. There were empty photo frames, for goodness sakes. He also eventually managed to track down a local mum who said she vaguely remembered seeing Mrs. Chaudhary dropping a little girl off at a preschool, even if every staff member at that particular preschool swore up and down that they'd never seen Mrs. Chaudhary or a girl named Emma. It was clearly aliens, and there was no other explanation.

Noah Wright had been an eight-year-old from a tiny village very near Hogsmeade. His parents, brother, and sister had been found dead in November, but that didn't explain the fact that their house seemed to have contained three children. Apparently, some reporters had asked around about it, but the village swore up and down that the Wrights had only ever had two children. This time, hospital records had been no use, but the theorist had snuck into the scene of the crime (definitely illegal) and done his own searching, and managed to find a single failed Year 3 spelling quiz stuffed in the back of a sock drawer, where it had apparently evaded the aliens' attention, which bore the name Noah and a date. From there, the theorist could estimate how old this Noah was. He also pointed out that there were some ruins near this village where weird activity had been reported, which made Albus laugh because apparently those ruins were what muggles saw when they came near Hogwarts.

Finally, Isla Foster had been a ten-year-old from Bristol who had disappeared in December. A man and woman, divorced nearly three years before, and both turned up dead on the same night, in the same, unexplainable way. There was no sign of poisoning, injury, or any other cause of death, but both had terrified expressions on their faces. They were found in their respective flats, both of which had a second bedroom made up as if it belonged to a young person, but there was no sign or record of a child or anyone else who lived there. Strangely enough, the couple had met up several times a month, just as any divorced couple would do to either pick up or drop off a child. The theorist had finally discovered a name and age by tracking down the couple's old landlord from eight years ago, who remembered little Isla because she'd been the same age as his grandson.

The theory was that aliens had abducted all three children, and the theorist had written thousands of words about how they might be connected or similar other than the mysterious circumstances of their disappearances, but had eventually drawn a blank. We were a little ahead of him, there; it seemed pretty likely that, if the other children had been muggleborns, these three were, too.

The questions till remained, though: why was Stillens interested in a bunch of muggleborn children?

It was nearly four in the morning before we got back to the castle. I was too sleepy to bother with taking my cloak off before I fell into bed. I was out like a light, and didn't wake up until noon. Not ideal, since we had several classes that morning, but Colette was still in bed when I rolled over, blinking groggily in the light, so at least I wasn't alone.

Wren didn't say anything when we showed up late for lunch with Albus, still half asleep. She just smiled brightly and said that we could copy her notes, if we wanted to. There were cups of coffee sitting next to each of our plates, which wasn't usually served with lunch. I raised an eyebrow at my cup, then at Wren. "Thanks."

"For what?" she asked innocently.

Colette yawned and picked up the copy of the Quibbler that Wren had definitely collected for her that morning and set out again now. "Did anyone notice we weren't in class?"

"Binns didn't notice you weren't in History of Magic, of course, but Professor Milligan and Professor Haverna noticed," she said.

"Did they ask you where we were?" Albus asked.

"Yeah." She shrugged. "I said I wasn't sure."

I pursed my lips. "Did Haverna take that well?"

The pleasant expression faded from her face. "I mean, no. I think she knows you all slept through class. She might track you down to ask why."

"We were studying late," Colette said.

Wren glanced at each of us. "I don't want to hear what you were doing."

"That's what we were doing!" Albus exclaimed, gesturing with his coffee. Some of it sloshed onto his sandwich.

"All right." She put her hands up. "That's all I need to know, okay?"

James grinned proudly at her, though as soon as she turned her head, he wiped the smile off his face. Clearly, he somehow knew where we'd been just as well as she did, though I wasn't sure he knew exactly why. I found myself wondering why we'd never bothered to include either of them in this. Oh well, it had gotten exciting enough that I was going to give it a few days (just so Wren might not feel like she was breaking the rules), then let them in on it.

The next few weeks were spent organizing our research. At the next Hogsmeade visit, Poppy and Albus spent three hours at a muggle oddities shop, trying to print the pictures she'd saved of the children. Colette had started pinning things up to the wall in the Room of Requirement in a very movie-like manner, seeing if she could find any connections we hadn't seen before. I was the one who had the bright idea of letting Mr. Potter know about the three kids who essentially didn't exist anymore. He said he'd look into it, but wasn't sure what he could do at the moment, since he didn't even know where Stillens was, let alone where he would be keeping 43 children.

Colette pressured me into telling him about Cassie, too. That got his attention. He told me to let him know if she came back with any information about where the house might be, and suggested we see if Trelawney had heard about anything like that (because despite thoroughly searching the library, Colette had come up with nothing about a seer void).

I made a face as we walked out of his classroom. "I would rather kiss the giant squid than go spend the afternoon seeing if Trelawney knows anything about this."

Colette sighed. "I doubt she has. She makes up ninety percent of the things she says."

"I know." I frowned. "But, I mean, she goes to such lengths to put up this image of herself as a seer, so maybe she does know something about it... She's probably looked into everything there is to know about being a seer. Maybe even more than you."

Colette looked like she was about to argue with me, but caught herself. "I... I guess you know more about this than I do." She shrugged and gave me a weak smile. "If you want to talk to her, I'll suffer through it with you."

I didn't want to, but I felt like it was probably the wisest thing to do. "We just... need to be vague," I said as I started in the direction of her classroom. "Definitely don't say anything about this happening to me."

Colette nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

"Maybe you read about something weird in a book. You do that all the time, anyway."

"Sure, Astra," she said, I though I wasn't looking at her, I could picture her rolling her eyes and smiling at me at the same time.

Trelawney's classroom was empty when we got there. As much as I'd hated the month or two that I'd actually been in her class, I hated being there when it was deserted even more. It was so quiet, with a mystical, almost eerie air that made my skin crawl.

Colette gave the classroom a very skeptical once over after we'd walked past the tiered seating and out into the open. I didn't blame her; the overwhelming amount of drapery, the cabinets full of tea cups, and the crystal balls and parchments scattered all over the room had always seemed over the top to me. I was grateful when she bit down whatever comment she clearly wanted to make about it all, though, and just turned to me. "So, she's not here?"

"Oh, she is," I said, and gestured towards the staircase nearly hidden along one wall. It led to her office, and though I'd never actually been up there, I knew she very rarely ventured into the rest of the castle.

I started up the stairs, and Colette followed. The creaking of the steps echoed in the quiet room. At the top, I raised my hand to knock on the door. Before I could, though, it swung inward. Trelawney's thick glasses magnified her eyes as she blinked at me. In fact, it was like her whole face was two large eyes within mounds of gray, curly hair. I stared at her for a moment, caught off guard.

"Oh, hello, dear; I knew you would be coming by today."

I saw Colette rolling her eyes next to me, but Trelawney didn't seem to notice. She opened her door wider and stepped back. "Come in, come in, yes, both of you..."

She put her hand on Colette's shoulder as she tried to walk by. "Yes, Miss St. Pierre, is it?" Colette raised an eyebrow at me, but Trelawney didn't notice. She'd closed her eyes in that trance-like way she always did when she was about to make a prediction about a student. This would be good.

"Let's see, hmm," she said, nodding as if agreeing with some invisible voice. "Oh, yes, I see it now. You could have been destined for greatness..." Colette seemed to be trying not to laugh. "But instead I see great pain." Trelawney opened her eyes, and Colette's expression turned serious immediately. She managed to look only slightly uncomfortable as Trelawney peered closely at her face. "Great pain, yes. How unfortunate."

"Um... right." Colette nodded slowly. "Okay. Thanks, Professor." She glanced over at me. "I... I think Astra had something she wanted to ask you?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Trelawney turned to me. "Have a seat, both of you."

She motioned vaguely towards three ottomans grouped around a low table, where three steaming cups of tea were sitting. I slowly sat down, trying to ignore the overwhelmingness of the room. There were three different types of incense burning in three different corners, shimmery scarves of all colors hanging from the ceiling and blowing in the slight breeze from the open skylight, and precarious stacks of journals and parchments on the floor and the tables and the chairs (but none of the one bookshelf, which was filled with even more teacups. In the very few spots where I could actually see the wall or the ceiling, there were star charts tacked up, marked with different colored runes that I couldn't understand. I looked down at my teacup and was relieved to see it seemed perfectly normal, even if I would probably have to sit through Trelawney divining my fortune from the leaves.

"How can I help you, dear?" Trelawney asked, tilting her head.

I glanced over at Colette, but she picked up her teacup and took a sip, a clear sign that she was going to let me handle that one. Fair enough, I supposed; I'd dragged her up here, after all. "Well... Colette and I were wondering if you'd ever heard of..." I trailed off. How could I describe this without making it sound as if I'd actually experienced it? "You see, Colette was reading up on seers, and came across something a little strange, so we were wondering if it was actually true or not. You seemed like the best person to ask..."

Trelawney looked as if I'd given her the best compliment of her life. Her eyes had grown a little misty (though perhaps that was because she'd had them open so widely for so long, staring at me), and she wiped at them just a little. "Of course, yes. I'd be happy to help you understand. The art of divination is a very difficult to understand subject, so it makes sense that you'd require some more... expertise, I suppose. Not all of us can have the gift."

I could tell Colette was barley restraining herself from rolling her eyes again, so I just nodded. "Right. Sure. Exactly. Anyway... It was something in some obscure journal from a seer, who... he claimed he could... there was this void, of sorts? He went there when he slept, sometimes. And he... well, he believed he could see other seers in it. Talk to them, too."

Trelawney's expression had grown a little less mystical. She frowned at me for a moment, then at Colette. "Who did you say wrote this book, dear?"

Colette stared at her blankly for a moment. "I... I can't remember."

"Interesting..." Trelawney studied her teacup for a moment, then shook her head. "You know, I never understand why seers feel the need to write books, since you can't really learn the Inner Eye."

My shoulders slumped. "So, you haven't heard of anything like that?"

Trelawney took a sip of tea. "I'm sure his dreams meant something very important. However, dear, you have to understand that some people who have the Inner Eye are actually tempted to make things up!"

"You're kidding," Colette deadpanned.

"No, indeed!" Trelawney exclaimed, shaking her head. She seemed truly distressed just at the thought. "Some of the less scrupulous among our ranks have been known to do things like that. I don't know anything about that particular wizard, of course..." She glanced at Colette, as if she might have magically remembered the name of the wizard. When Colette didn't seem to get the hint, Trelawney shook her head. "I'm afraid that's just not something I've heard of."

I sighed. "Oh. Okay. Well, that's all right." I didn't know what I'd expected, really; surely Trelawney would have gone on and on about this if it was something she'd heard of. I glanced at Colette, hoping she would be better at making up an excuse to leave than I would.

Colette wasn't looking at me. Instead, she was still watching Trelawney, her head tilted thoughtfully. "Are seers connected at all?"

Trelawney frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Like..." Colette closed her eyes as if it was painful to even suggest. "On a spiritual level, perhaps? Is there anything that draws you to other seers more than normal people?"

"Oh, of course," Trelawney said, the ethereal quality of her voice back in full force. "The Inner Eye is something that links us across all times and places. We are given glimpses into time, into the shadowy recesses of the past and the clouded mystery of the future!"

Colette nodded mechanically, and seemed to be regretting asking the question. "Okay, sure, yes. But... do think, maybe, that connection might be more tangible, sometimes? Perhaps for particularly powerful seers?"

Trelawney seemed to pick up on an insult that, for once, I didn't think Colette had meant to give. She sniffed. "I'm not sure you would know how to judge a 'particularly powerful seer,' my dear."

"Oh, no, of course not," Colette said quickly. "I was just curious, is all. It's a very interesting subject." I pursed my lips to keep from laughing, because I wasn't sure I'd ever heard Colette tell so smooth of a lie. "Aren't you descended from a particularly powerful seer?"

Luckily, the professor seemed placated by that. "Oh. Yes, I am, actually. Cassandra Trelawney was my great-great-grandmother, and the most celebrated seer of her time."

Colette nodded. "Right. Did she ever write about anything like what we're talking about?"

Trelawney opened her mouth, then paused for a moment, seeming to actually consider the question. I held my breath, suddenly excited. If there was anything, even the smallest, most irrelevant detail...

"She died a few months before I was born," Trelawney said. She didn't seem to be trying to put on some sort of production here, like normal; in fact, she was staring into the distance as if Colette and I weren't here anymore. "But she woke up one morning, certain that I was going to have the Second Sight. She'd seen me in her dreams, it seemed. Well, she'd seen my mother, but she told our family that she wouldn't have been able to see my mother if the child she was carrying didn't have the Inner Eye."

Colette's mouth had dropped open. Mine had too, actually. I closed it, then leaned forward. "Why did she think that, Professor?"

Trelawney started, then glanced back at me, blinking as if she'd just woken up. "Oh. I'm not entirely sure. She never explained what omens she had seen in her dream, and then she died a few weeks later. You know, she predicted that, too?"

"That's really interesting," Colette said, in the tone of someone who isn't interested at all. "Back to her prediction about you... Had she ever done anything like that before?"

"Oh, well, I don't know," Professor Trelawney said, frowning. "She was remarkably good at recognizing the Second Sight in others, though. So, obviously, one has to believe her."

I glanced at Colette again. Cassandra Trelawney had seen Trelawney's mother pop up in her dreams and known exactly what it meant, immediately? She'd been remarkably good at recognizing seers? Maybe there were other explanations, but maybe, just maybe...

I turned back to Professor Trelawney. "I'm about to say something that's going to sound mad, and like I'm making things up, but I swear I'm not."

Trelawney gave me a slightly patronizing smile. "Dear, I would never doubt the Eye of a true seer."

I blinked, not sure how she expected me to respond to that, then nodded. "Right. Anyway..." I shook my head. "Remember a few days ago, when you told me I'd been in your dreams?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" Trelawney put her hand on my arm and leaned forward in a show of seriousness. "A great challenge, that's all I said, right?"

Well, that's not where I'd been taking the conversation, but I didn't know how to steer it back, so I just nodded.

"Upon further reflection into the depths of the Second Sight," Trelawney said, gesturing grandly as if that was supposed to impress me, "I must warn you! You will know what needs to be done, but you must trust your instincts!"

Okay, Colette had definitely been right about that being absolutely bullshit. I glanced over at my friend, who was biting her lip and trying very hard not to laugh. Trelawney was still watching me, waiting for an answer, so I managed a smile that I hoped didn't look like a grimace. "Yes, ma'am. I definitely will. Um... I was going to say that I'd actually had a dream, of sorts, too, that night. You were in it."

Trelawney gasped. "A alignment of our Inner Eyes?" She put her hand to her throat like an actress in a period drama who's just heard the shocking news that her husband won't be returning from war, and is now about to faint. "I never could have wished for a protegee more in-tune to her gifts!"

Colette suddenly became overcome by coughing, which distracted Trelawney long enough for me to get a serious expression back on my face again. After Colette had assured her that she'd just choked on her tea, and she was all right, I finally cleared my throat. "Anyway..."

"Yes!" Trelawney turned back to me. "What happened in this dream? What do you believe it means?"

I glanced at Colette, who just shrugged. "Well... You were asleep. I don't think it means much of anything, necessarily. That wasn't my point."

"What do you mean, it doesn't mean much of anything?" Trelawney cut in. She sniffed, sitting up straighter. "The noble art of divining dreams isn't something to take lightly, Astra."

"Trust me, I know." I sighed. "This isn't quite a dream, though, I don't think. This is where it's going to start sounding mad."

Trelawney seemed less than impressed, but picked up her cup and took a sip of tea instead of saying anything. I took that as a signal to continue.

"I've been having these weird dreams about a little girl for a while now," I said. "They don't seem like dreams, though. It's almost like I'm transported to this void, thing, where I see her. I mean, my body never leaves my dorm, so I suppose it's a place I go in my mind..." I shook my head. That wasn't the important part. "Anyway, this little girl told me her name was One. I've been trying to learn more about her, because she gave off really creepy, 'definitely been kidnapped' vibes. But I didn't seem to be getting anywhere, and there weren't any symbols or omens, or anything. It all seemed weird and meaningless and we couldn't figure out what was going on. But then... that night, the void was suddenly full of people? Including you. I think they were all seers."

Trelawney, despite assuring me she would not doubt the Eye of a "true seer" literally five minutes ago, was giving me a very skeptical look. "What makes you think they were all seers?"

I shrugged. "The closest one, other than you and the little girl, was a man who is apparently a French seer. Colette showed me a picture of him afterwards. I'd never even heard of him, but I recognized him from my dream."

"And the little girl? You think she's a seer?"

"I mean, she'd have to be, if everyone was." I shrugged. "Her name is actually Cassie Williams. She disappeared a year ago. We found her picture earlier this week."

Trelawney frowned. "I've never heard of anything like this."

"But I think you have," Colette said slowly. "What if this is what your great-great-grandmother meant when she said she'd dreamed about you? If she could visit this place, where she would only be able to see true seers, and suddenly your mother had appeared, she would know what that meant."

Trelawney shook her head. "I've never been to any void."

Colette glanced at me. I sighed, rather dramatically. "Well... I don't know what's happening, Professor. I thought maybe you could help me understand..."

She blinked. "Oh. Of course, dear, I can help you."

I looked up, trying to look grateful. "Really?"

She grew thoughtful for a moment. "You know, a few of Cassandra's journals reference very obscure magical practices that I have never attempted. Perhaps she might have mentioned something close to that, and I didn't notice before..."

Colette perked up. "You have Cassandra's journals?"

"Well, of course," Trelawney said. "She was my ancestor!"

"That makes sense," Colette said, nodding quickly. "I've just been dying to read them, and learn more about her, but they aren't available to the public, of course..."

Trelawney smiled graciously. "Well, I would be happy to let you look at them. Provided you take good care of them, of course. And keep them here. I think that would be best."

Colette nodded seriously. "Of course."

Trelawney stood up and moved over to one particularly tall, precarious stack of books. "These are all hers. I'm not sure if they're in order..."

Colette had gotten up, too. "Oh, that's all right; I'm sure Astra and I can figure it out."

Just then, a large grandfather clock that I hadn't noticed before, since there were three scarves draped over it, rang out the hour. Trelawney glanced at it in surprise. "It's already time for class!"

Colette and I exchanged a glance. I didn't want to sit through this again later to actually see the journals. "Um... could Colette and I look through the journals while you teach class?"

Trelawney studied me for a moment, then studied Colette more skeptical for quite a bit longer. Finally, she looked back at me. "I suppose that might be okay."

"We'll take very good care of your books," I assured her, putting on my most charming smile. "Thank you so much, Professor!"

Trelawney hovered around us for a few minutes more, reminding Gus no less than five times to be careful, as the journals were very valuable, but she finally left to go teach her fourth year class. I suppose they were used to her being a few minutes late, anyway; better for making grand entrances.

Colette had begun organizing the journals by date. Once she'd finished, we sat back and looked at the overwhelming number of journals. There had to be at least a hundred. Colette glanced at me. "I know you're not a fan of it, but I think my copying spell might be our best bet."

I pursed my lips. She was right; I wasn't a fan of her plagiarism spell. However, there was no way we were going to read through all of these right now, or even skim them well. I didn't fancy spending our afternoons here for the rest of the school year. "If it's never been published, I don't suppose it's exactly copyrighted. Besides, these are ancient..."

Colette smiled and pulled her wand out. "It's a really simple spell."

It was, to my surprise. Touch the cover of the book with your wand and say, "Exemplum." Then you essentially had a photocopy you could go back and revisit any time you wanted. The spell to actually recall a certain book was a little more complicated, Colette explained, but she was pretty sure I'd be able to do it, if anyone could. I just needed to remember what the years were for the journals I was copying (since there weren't titles), so I'd be able to recall them. I hadn't been paying attention to that, of course, so Colette sighed and made a list on a spare bit of parchment.

We finished before Trelawney's class was over. After a fierce, quiet debate about whether it would be worse to wait for Trelawney to come back and then be stuck here for another hour as she talked to us, or walk out in the middle of her class and let every single fourth year who'd taken divination know that we'd had tea with Trelawney. We eventually agreed that our reputations weren't worth as much as our time, and snuck down during her class. Luckily, they were all focused on reading tea leaves, which was kind of chaotic. The only ones who really paid us any attention were Elmer, Pip, and Eviana, and all they did was whisper and giggle to each other as they waved at us.

Colette had to hurry off for History of Magic, so I walked back to the common room alone. Considering it was midafternoon on a Thursday, I wasn't surprised to see only a few people about. Those who were there seemed engrossed in studying, especially the fifth and seventh years. We were only a few weeks away from exams, I realized. I'd never been less concerned.

I spotted Albus at a table in the corner, surrounded by parchments. Somehow, I didn't think any of them were related to class. As I walked over, and saw a couple pictures scattered about, as well, I had my suspicions confirmed.

"Any breakthroughs?" I asked as I sat down next to him.

Albus looked up from the list he was working on, which seemed to be putting the children in order of age. "No. How about you? Was Dad any help?" He frowned and tilted his head. "You've been gone a while, haven't you?"

"We went and talked to Trelawney afterwards," I said, shrugging. "Mr. Potter suggested she might know something about these dreams with Cassie."

"Did she?"

I shook my head, rolling my eyes. "We think her great-great-grandmother might have, though. Trelawney let us look through her journals, and we copied all of them."

"Copied them?" Albus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Colette made a spell. It's morally iffy, but it worked really well here." I sighed. "We'll have to wait for History of Magic to be done before I can recall any of the journals, though. She didn't teach me that spell."

Albus seemed fascinated. "When you say copy, do you mean like... like a photo copy?"

"'Photo copy'? What is this, 2005?" I laughed. "Yeah, it's literally just making a copy of the whole book. I suppose it would work on any parchment."

Albus looked down at the table covered in parchments, then back at me. "That's amazing! There are so many possibilities for that..."

I pursed my lips. "The only other thing I've seen Colette use it for is to read books from Flourish and Blotts without paying for them, so I think it's just a new form of piracy."

Albus shrugged. "There are worse things than that." I raised an eyebrow, and he widened his eyes at me. "What? I'm not wrong! It's not like she couldn't have just sat in the store for a couple of days and read the books, too. That was just faster."

"Whatever you say." I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, we're going to read through all of these journals and see if there's anything about the seer void in there."

He nodded. "That's good. Have you heard from Cassie lately? Has she found out where Stillens' manor is?"

"No." I narrowed my eyes. He sounded very casual, but he had to know it was a ridiculous question. "It's been like... a day, Al. Why do you want to know?"

"Just interested," Albus said, unconvincingly. He was staring intently at the parchment in front of him, but seemed aware of me frowning at him. After a moment, he sighed. "I'm incredibly interested. Is that better?"

"Why?" I tilted my head quizzically. "You know I'll tell you as soon as I hear anything."

"I know..." He shrugged. "Wren will probably find out first."

"Wren?" I asked in surprise. Was Wren trying to find out where the manor was, too?

Albus nodded. "Dad asked her, I guess. She mentioned it a few days ago, but I didn't give it much thought then. Now that we're pretty sure all the children are at Stillens' manor, though..." He shrugged. "It seems important."

As much as Colette's insistence that I not be rash had been annoying me lately, I was starting to realize she was at least right about the fact that there wasn't much we could do besides gather the information. Albus didn't seem to understand that. I hesitated, then said, "Yeah, it's important. To the DA."

Albus nodded noncommittally, but he wasn't looking at me again. I sighed and tapped his shoulder until he looked up at me. "It's important to the DA, right? Not us?"

Albus hesitated, and I groaned. "You're kidding! You're supposed to be the reasonable one, Albus!"

"I'm being reasonable!" he exclaimed, frowning indignantly at me. "You don't have any idea what I'm thinking!"

"So you're not wanting to run off the the manor first chance you get and rescue all forty-three children?" I demanded.

Albus opened his mouth, but seemed to rethink whatever he'd been about to say. I groaned again, and he put his hand up. "Hold on! I'm not being unreasonable! Hear me out!" He paused, as if expecting me to argue, but I was too concerned about what could possibly be going on in his head to think of anything to say.

Apparently satisfied with my silence, Albus continued. "Obviously, I'm not an idiot, okay? I know we can't just go rescue all the kids by ourselves." He sighed. "I just... I'm worried that the DA is going to take too long to do anything about it. Look how long they've let this wait already."

"It takes time to plan things," I said, shrugging, even though I thought he had a point. "They know what's important, Al."

"I know they do." Albus glanced over at the pictures lying in a stack in front of us. He picked up the top one, a small Asian boy who was hugging a dog and grinning at the camera. After staring at the picture for a second, Albus let it fall. It fluttered back to the table and slipped off the stack, so it was now angled directly at me. Albus sighed, and when he spoke, his voice was nearly a whisper. "I'm just worried that these kids don't have that kind of time to wait, you know?"

I knew exactly. It had been over a year since children had started disappearing. We didn't know what Stillens was planning on doing with them, or what he'd already done. Every single day that passed as another day too many.

"What are we supposed to do about that, though?" I whispered.

Albus pursed his lips and gave me a sideways glance. "I... I think we'll have to do something ourselves."

I winced. "Albus, we've got to stop running into things blind. We could've been killed last year, you know. There are adults who want to help us."

"They're not doing enough!" Albus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I didn't say anything, because I agreed. Mr. Potter was overwhelmed, I knew, and he wasn't in charge of the DA anyway, but I'd been disappointed by his lack of immediate concern for the children. I felt Albus's frustration completely.

"I'm not saying we go in blind," he said after a moment. "I say we go with a plan, a foolproof one. But only take exactly as long as we need to make it, and no more. I don't care as much about being able to take down Stillens whole operation, like the DA. That's what they'll be waiting for, for when they think they can do that. Our only goal will be to get as many kids out as we can."

A small part of my brain said that was ridiculous, but it sounded far more reasonable than what I'd been expecting. I tilted my head thoughtfully. "How would we do that?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "That's part of the plan I haven't made yet. But I think that plan needs to be made as soon as possible. As soon as we can find out where the manor is, and find out as much about it as we can."

I nodded. The thought of going to Stillens' manor seemed terrifying, but there were only two of us. We couldn't rescue all 43 children, most likely, but we could rescue enough to possibly make the DA realize they needed to step up their game. I looked over at Albus. "I'm in."

He blinked at the page in front of him, then glanced at me. "You are?"

"Of course." I smiled. "You're my best friend. You think I wouldn't follow you anywhere, even if we weren't rescuing children?"

Albus smiled, still seeming surprised, but pleased. "Oh, perfect."

"Have you told anyone else?"

He shook his head, the smile fading. "I'm not sure we should."

"I guess Colette wouldn't be on board," I agreed. "Poppy?"

He shook his head. "She's got too much going on right now. I don't want to worry her." He shrugged. "I'm not sure she'd be on board, either. I mean, I wasn't even sure about you, and she's much less likely than you."

That seemed fair. Granted, I didn't have any experience suggesting dangerous or "impulsive" ideas to her (not that was Albus was suggesting sounded impulsive), but Poppy seemed slightly too sensible to be down for it. Not that being sensible was bad, but sometimes it got in the way of doing what was right, and we couldn't afford to risk that here.

"Think James would help?" I asked musingly. Wren was an obvious no. It would probably even be difficult to get the location of the manor from her without making her suspicious. But if we could convince James to help without telling her, he would probably be really valuable.

Albus hesitated. "I don't know."

"He would be great," I pointed out. "He's always been willing to help us before. He's smart, and good with a wand, and definitely wouldn't run off and tell your dad."

"Yeah, but that's all provided he doesn't tell Wren," Albus said. He drummed his fingers on the table. "Don't get me wrong. I love James, and Wren, and that they're dating. And I don't want him to keep secrets from her or anything. But he definitely doesn't do that and now won't be an exception, and I'm just a little pissed about it."

I shrugged. "You're not wrong."

He chuckled. "Well, I suppose it's just you and me, then."

"I suppose so." I smiled. "I mean, that's not exactly new."

"Feels about right, honestly." Albus smiled at me, but his smiled faded after a moment. "This feels a lot more real now that I've said it all out loud."

"Yeah, that tends to happen." I patted his shoulder. "We're going to be okay. We'll do the right thing." I remembered Trelawney's prediction, twice now: I would encounter a great challenge, but I would know what to do. Maybe this was what she meant. 

~~~~

My chapters keep getting taken over by unplanned scenes and honestly? My subconscious has a much better idea of where this story is going than I do, so I'm not even mad.

I sincerely hope you guys aren't as bored in quarantine as I have been. While writing is something I can do to pass the time, I'm also trying to write more so that you have something to entertain yourselves! Hope it's working. On that note, last weekend I updated The Ultimate Guide to Harry Potter Fanfiction for the first time in over a year. Go check it out!

Question of the Day: Given the chance to punch any one of my characters in the face with no consequences, who would it be and why?

Answer: There are so many people that I have created that I absolutely despise, but it's coming down to Ferdinand Welling and Magnus Caldwell for me. They're both horrible and I've given them no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I mean, Stillens doesn't have any either, but at least he doesn't seem to torture teenage girls for enjoyment. Not that it makes him morally superior or anything, but at least he has a purpose when he tortures people, like getting information out of them or something. Magnus is a pervert and Welling is a sadist and I hate them both and hate that I created them. I'd probably punch Welling, though, because it can be argued that Magnus is too much on idiot to care, while punching Welling would not only hurt his face, but also his pride.

Vote and comment and stay at home, please!

~Elli

Word count: 6884