Halliwell Manor, San Francisco

The Manor was resoundingly empty when Chris and Piper Orbed into the foyer. They both looked around, surprised.

 

“Paige?” Piper called up the stairs. “Phoebe?” There was no response. “Phoebe!” she called again, louder. Still nothing.

 

Piper felt a shiver of apprehension go down her spine. It was too eerily similar to the time the Source’s assassin, Shax, had attacked them at the Manor, and Phoebe had headed up to the Book, and seemingly disappeared.

 

In reality – according to Leo – Phoebe had been in the Underworld, hiding out with Cole, after making a deal with the Source to help turn back time to before Shax’s first assassination attempt and thereby save Piper’s life.

 

It had all been for naught anyway, as Leo, stuck in the Underworld with Cole and Phoebe, had returned too late to be able to heal both Piper and her older sister, Prue. Having to decide between Prue’s fatal head injury and Piper’s fatal abdominal wound, Leo had followed his heart and saved Piper.

 

Sometimes, Piper still felt like blaming Leo for that.

 

“Mom?”

 

A touch on her shoulder made her jump. She spun around, hands rising to either freeze or explode . . . and froze herself when she realised it was just Chris.

 

“Sorry,” she sighed, apologetically, dropping her hands to her sides. “Bad memories, that’s all. Could you go find Phoebe, please?”

 

“Sure, Mom.” One corner of Chris’ mouth curled up, wryly. “Paige probably dropped her in the middle of the ocean mid-Orb.”

 

A laugh burst out of Piper before she realised it, and she laughed again, more naturally, at herself. “Probably,” she agreed. “But better check anyway.”

 

“Sure thing. Back in a tick.” And Chris Orbed away in a swirl of blue-white lights.

 

He returned, ten minutes later, with a Phoebe who was drenched to the skin and spitting mad.

 

“Pheebs?” Piper tried valiantly to swallow her laughter, as Phoebe did not look amused in the slightest. “Did Paige drop you in the ocean?”

 

“No,” Phoebe spat, wrenching her arm away bad-temperedly from Chris. “She ‘dropped’ me right in the middle of downtown . . . in the pouring rain . . . with no car, and no purse!”

 

“Oh, dear,” Piper chortled. If she hadn’t sent Chris, Phoebe would have faced an hour’s walk to get back to the Manor. “Uh, I mean,” she said, hastily, seeing the glare Phoebe turned on her, “bad Paige!”

 

“I’m going to go change,” Phoebe announced, and squelched her way towards the stairs.

 

Chris and Piper barely waited until she was out of ear-shot before they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

 

 

---

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

“Did you think of anything?”

 

Severus paused, one hand on the back of a chair, and glanced at where Harry was all but bouncing in his seat like an over-excited puppy.

 

“Still haven’t quite got the hang of the typical morning greeting, have you?” he said as he took his own seat. A large mug of coffee appeared at his place. He had the house-elves very well trained by now.

 

“Good morning,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Did you think of anything?”

 

“No, unfortunately, I did not,” Severus had to admit. “But it’s early yet – something will come, no doubt.” He took a large sip of his coffee, and spent a moment allowing it to spread through his bloodstream. “Of course,” he continued, “it all depends on how precisely Voldemort and the . . . uh, Source intend to return.”

 

“It does?” Harry tilted his head in puzzlement.

 

Severus rolled his eyes. “If Voldemort returns as he was, then a simple Avada Kadavra will be enough to kill him, but you cannot cast the Killing Curse on a wraith or spirit,” he explained.

 

“Because they’re already dead,” Harry said, nodding to show his understanding.

 

“Precisely,” said Severus, giving a sharp nod of his own.

 

“You’re not still on about that, are you, my boys?” a voice interrupted from behind them.

 

Harry gave a jerk of surprise and uttered a shrill yelp – although no doubt he would claim it was a manly yelp, Severus thought – and spun round in his chair to face Albus, who was staring at them with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Severus, who had caught sight of the Headmaster approaching out of the corner of his eye, calmly sipped his coffee.

 

“Perhaps now that the school year has ended, you should go on holiday yourself; rest, relax . . . forget about Voldemort,” Albus continued, laying a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

 

“Albus, really, I’m not imagining—” Harry started, only to be interrupted by Albus’ raised hand.

 

“Some sun, some time alone. How about Portugal, my boy?” Albus queried. “Or perhaps Spain?”

 

“Or perhaps America,” Severus suggested, wickedly.

 

Harry glared at Severus, but then apparently caught on to Severus’ train of thought, and nodded, slowly. “Like a road trip, for instance?” he said.

 

Albus beamed, delightedly. “That’s the spirit, dear boy!” he exclaimed, clapping Harry on the shoulder once again. “I shall expect postcards – lots and lots of postcards!” Still beaming, he moved further down the table towards his own seat.

 

“You really think we need to go to America?” Harry asked, softly, once Albus was out of ear-shot.

 

“We may, but it also gives us a valid reason for knowing Phoebe and the others,” Severus pointed out. “One that doesn’t involve visions Albus doesn’t want to know about.” His breakfast finally appeared on the table in front of him, and he turned his attention to it.

 

However, he could still see Harry out of the corner of his eye, anxiously fidgeting. With a sigh, Severus looked up at him. “Why don’t you go and start researching,” he suggested. “Try the Restricted Section first.”

 

“All right,” Harry agreed, amiably, bouncing to his feet. He took a few steps away from the table, and then paused, before sheepishly turning around again. “Uh, what exactly am I supposed to be researching?” he asked.

 

Severus heroically restrained from rolling his eyes in exasperation. “How about how to banish a spirit permanently after it has returned from death,” he said. “Or what sorts of methods it could use to return.”

 

“Right!” Harry nodded briskly, and started to walk away again.

 

Severus finally gave in, rolled his eyes, and returned to his breakfast.

 

 

---

Halliwell Manor, San Francisco

 

“Hear these words,

Hear my cry,

Spirit from the other side.

Come to me,

I summon thee,

Cross now the great divide,” Phoebe finished lighting the last candle as she spoke and stepped out of the circle, holding the image of her mother and grandmother in her head. The Elders didn’t believe her, but maybe the ghostly plane had heard or felt something.

 

Two columns of misty white lights swirled down from the ceiling and formed in the circle of white candles, solidifying into ethereal bodies, one of whom was facing away from Phoebe, and the other facing to her left.

 

“So she says—” “Did you see his face—” Two voices overlapped, before the owners abruptly realised they were not where they had been. Making confused sounds, they spun round.

 

“Hi, guys!” Phoebe greeted them. She shoved her hands into the pockets of the tracksuit bottoms she had put on after having to shower and change. When she next saw Paige . . .

 

“Phoebe!” her mother exclaimed. “I was in the middle of a conversation!”

 

“As was I.” Her grandmother gave her a stern look.

 

“Well, it’s not like I can tell when it’s convenient, ya know,” Phoebe muttered.

 

The two older women sighed and glanced at each other.

 

“No, I suppose not,” matriarch Penny Halliwell admitted, and stepped out of the circle, becoming corporeal as she did so. “Hello, darling.”

 

“Hi, Grams.” Phoebe hugged her grandmother tightly. It was almost six years since Penny had died, changing Phoebe and her sisters’ lives forever, leading them to discover they were witches.

 

“Where’s Paige and Piper?” the other ghost enquired, peering around the attic.

 

“Patty!” Penny scolded, turning to face her daughter with her hands on her hips. “Can’t you even say hello to Phoebe first?”

 

“Oh, right.” Sheepishly, Patty smiled at Phoebe. “Hi, honey.”

 

“Hi, Mom. Paige is at her new temp job—”

 

“Another one?” Penny interrupted, raising her eyebrows.

 

“—and Piper’s downstairs playing with Wyatt,” Phoebe finished, pulling a mild face at her grandmother. “Listen, I called you guys for help.” She wished she could have summoned Prue, as well, but the Elders hadn’t allowed her to visit them yet. Apparently Phoebe and Piper weren’t ready to see their oldest sister. Phoebe wondered just when they would be ready, or if the Elders would use that as an excuse until they were old and grey and ready to meet Prue on her side of the divide, rather than theirs.

 

“Not another slime demon, is it?” Penny asked, frowning in remembered distaste.

 

Phoebe had to stifle a giggle, as her mother mouthed slime demon? from behind Penny’s back. “No, Grams,” she finally replied. “I had a premonition . . .”

 

 

---

It took a while to explain everything – and convince both Penny and Patty that she hadn’t lost her mind and hadn’t just had a bad dream.

 

“I wasn’t the only one who had the dream,” she finally pointed out, exasperatedly.

 

“And you trust them?” Penny asked, sceptically.

 

“What, you think they’re just setting us up?” Phoebe asked. “Why? They want to stop their guy coming back as much as we want to stop the Source.”

 

“And you’re sure they want to stop him?” Penny pointed out. “Not join him?”

 

Phoebe opened her mouth to hotly deny this, then paused. They really didn’t know a lot – or indeed, anything – about the two male witches.

 

“Okay, Grams,” she agreed. “We’ll be careful. But in the meantime, could you and Mom still check up there for us?”

 

“Sure, honey,” Patty agreed, and almost instantly disappeared in a swirl of bright lights. Phoebe raised her eyebrows.

 

“That must have been some conversation I interrupted,” she said, half-jokingly.

 

Penny made a noise deep in her throat that could have meant anything and stepped back into the circle of candles, becoming transparent again. “I’ll let you know what, if anything, I find,” she said, and then paused to eye Phoebe, thoughtfully. “And I just might check to see if anyone knows anything about these British witches, too,” she added, and swirled away before Phoebe could respond.

 

“Thanks, Grams,” she muttered, leaning over to lift one of the candles. With a small puff, she blew the flame out.

 

 

---

A Demonic Wasteland, the Underworld

“What is this place?” the shade of Voldemort asked.

 

“The edge of the Demonic Wastelands,” the Source replied. It spread the dark mist of its wings as a hot wind roared past them.

 

“Demons?” Voldemort sounded interested, but wary.

 

The misty column that made up the Source turned to look at its equally misty partner. “You have not dealt with demons before?” it asked.

 

“No. Nothing I read about them said they could give me what I wanted,” Voldemort admitted.

 

“And what is it that you want?” the Source asked, in what was almost a purr.

 

“Immortality.” Voldemort looked around at the misty grey landscape. “Though not quite this way.”

 

“I know several demons who grant immortality,” the Source informed him, vaguely puzzled.

 

His companion snorted in disdain. “But only at a cost,” he responded. “I was not, and am not, interested in petty bargaining of that sort. I want true immortality, that is not conditioned on anything, or anyone, else.”

 

“Very well, then.” The Source spread its misty wings again, the edges trembling eagerly as another hot wind rushed past. “Let us get started.”

 

An instant later, the mist was trailing upwards, towards the blood-red mist that indicated a sky. A second later, Voldemort’s own mist was trailing after it.

 

 

---

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

Severus found Harry in the library, his head resting on his folded arms, surrounded by towering piles of books. It appeared that they were held back from falling on his head only by the grace of magic.

 

“Did you find anything?” Severus asked, and bit back a smile as Harry jumped and jerked himself upright, his eyes wheeling frantically around the otherwise empty room.

 

Seeing it was only Severus, Harry scowled at him and slumped back into his chair. “No,” he responded, turning the scowl onto the books on the table. “Plenty of ways to bring a spirit back, or to banish them to haunt somewhere else, but nothing to permanently get rid of one.”

 

“Well, maybe the others will have found something,” Severus suggested, sitting down opposite Harry. “It may require a combination of our magics to defeat both.”

 

As if his words had been a signal, there was a faint musical sound from outside the library, and an instant later, the head of one of the sisters – Paige? Severus thought – appeared around the door. She cast her eyes around the large room, and her eyes widened in either disbelief or awe.

 

“My God,” she breathed. “What is this place?”

 

“Paige!” a voice snapped from outside. “Are they in there? Where are we?”

 

Harry and Severus exchanged looks. “Never subtle, are they?” Harry said, beginning to grin.

 

“They’d fit right in with Gryffindor,” Severus agreed, amused. He sat back in his chair, and his movement caught Paige’s eye.

 

“Oh, they’re here!” she confirmed to whoever was behind her, and pushed open the door.

 

Phoebe followed her in, and she, too, gaped at the tall shelves. “Wow,” she said, spinning in a slow circle. “All these belong to you?” she asked absently, over her shoulder.

 

Severus snorted. “Of course not,” he informed her. “This is the Hogwarts Library.”

 

“So many magic books,” Paige breathed, shaking her head.

 

“You don’t have magic books?” asked Harry, tilting his head.

 

“We have our Book of Shadows, obviously,” Phoebe responded. A brief look of confusion flashed across her face. “It’s our family spell book,” she continued, before either Harry or Severus could even ask. “Handed down from our ancestor, Melinda Warren.”

 

“Uh, Phoebe,” Paige interrupted. “Perhaps we should get Chris to find some of that potion for them?”

 

“What potion?” Phoebe and Severus chorused. They blinked at each other, as Harry hid a smile behind his hand.

 

“The potion that Chris had that allowed us to block you?” Paige persisted.

 

“If you, or Chris, have the recipe, then I could probably brew it myself,” Severus insisted, looking slightly put out. “I am a Potions Master.”

 

“Block you from what?” Harry asked at the same time.

 

Phoebe sighed, and finally tore her gaze away from the books to look at them both. “I’m an empath,” she said, reluctantly. “It’s a fairly new power, and I haven’t quite got it under control yet.”

 

“You’re . . . an empath,” Severus repeated, sceptically. He glanced sideways at Harry. “That’s almost as bad as ‘your greatest power is love’.”

 

“Hey!” objected Harry and Phoebe simultaneously. “Speaking of Chris,” Harry continued, “where is he?”

 

“He and Piper should be here soon,” Paige said, wandering over and beginning to scan the books on the table beside Harry. “Piper had to take Wyatt to Magic School.” She glanced up as both Harry and Severus snorted. “Huh,” she said, thoughtfully. “I guess this place shouldn’t come as such a surprise to us,” she carried on, slightly ruefully.

 

“May I ask who Wyatt is?” Severus queried.

 

“Wyatt’s her son,” Phoebe told him, smiling at just the thought of her nephew. For a while there, Piper had been worried that she’d never have children at all, due to all the injuries she’d picked up from fighting demons.

 

“And . . . Chris is her son, too?” At Phoebe’s raised eyebrows, Severus made a small movement with his shoulders that wasn’t quite a shrug. “When you were here before, he called her mum.”

 

“Yeah, but that’s . . .” Paige exchanged glances with her sister. “Complicated,” she finished.

 

Just as Severus opened his mouth to respond, Harry kicked him under the table. Glaring at the younger professor, Severus was interrupted again – this time by the blue-white column of light that appeared beside them and then solidified into Chris and Piper.

 

“Hey . . . wow,” Piper interrupted herself, catching sight of where they were.

 

“Yeah, yeah, Hogwarts Library, not all theirs, tons of books. We already covered that,” Phoebe added, waving her hand dismissively. She looked at Chris. “Do you have any more of that empath-blocking potion?”

 

“No, and I can’t get any more made, either,” Chris said. “Why?”

 

“If we’re going to be here for any length of time, they’ll need it,” Paige explained, gesturing at the two British wizards.

 

“If you have a recipe, I may be able to brew it myself,” Severus interjected.

 

“Not a written one, I don’t.” Chris tapped his temple with a finger. “It’s all in here.”

 

Severus slipped his wand out from its holster. “Accio spare parchment and quill!” he ordered, and gave his wand a quick flick. Puzzled, the Americans stared at him, and then all four did a double-take as the requested items zoomed through the air past them to land neatly on the table in front of Severus. With a smirk, he pushed them over towards Chris.

 

“What was that?” asked Phoebe, sounding breathless.

 

“A simple Summoning charm,” replied Severus, airily. He nudged the parchment and quill again. “The recipe?” he prodded.

 

“Uh . . . right.” Chris gingerly reached out as though expecting either quill or parchment to leap up and attach him, or vanish. Once assured they wouldn’t, he began scribbling, although it took him a few tries to get the hang of writing with the quill.

 

Severus was just leaning over to watch when there was a sudden, high-pitched wail. It was almost higher than they could hear, but with an undertone that sounded like rocks, falling down a mountainside. At the same time, Harry suddenly let out a sharp hiss, and clamped his hands over his forehead.

 

“Harry?” Severus rested a hand on his colleague’s arm. The wail seemed to double in intensity for a moment, then as abruptly as it had started, it stopped. “What was that?” he asked out loud, not really expecting an answer.

 

Chris looked just as confused as he himself no doubt looked, and Paige had the far-off look of someone trying to remember something, but Piper and Phoebe were exchanging dark looks.

 

“Mom?” Chris prompted.

 

“There are gargoyles on this castle, aren’t there?” Piper asked, looking at Severus. Harry slowly lowered his hands to look at her. The lightning bolt on his forehead was inflamed.

 

“What does that—” Severus began, but paused at the seriousness of her expression. “Yes,” he said instead. “There are gargoyles in the castle.”

 

“Gargoyles aren’t just ugly stone ornaments,” Phoebe explained. “They’re magical guardians; an alarm system, basically. We’ve—” she gestured between herself and Piper, and vaguely included Paige “—heard them before.” She looked at her younger sister. “You were probably more concerned with . . . who was it, Shane?”

 

“Ah!” Paige nodded thoughtfully, although she didn’t look happy.

 

“What are they a warning system for?” Harry asked, briefly examining his hand. “No blood,” he added in an aside to Severus. “He’s not close yet.”

 

“The gargoyles only cry when the Source surfaces into our world,” Piper said, running a hand soothingly over her rounded stomach.

 

“And my scar only hurts when Voldemort is nearby,” Harry said.

 

“Well, then,” Severus said, looking from one to the other. “It appears that we now have a major problem.”