Maeve Barker is used to watching.
Watching the quidditch pitch. Watching the twins execute their latest prank. Watching fractured glimpses of a future she never asked for.
A gift passed down through the blood of a father she never met, the blood Voldemort failed to erase in the Great War.
Stepping into her Sixth year, she'd never known a gift to be so blessed and cursed at the same time. Seeing golden-boy Cedric Diggory and falling for him is easy. Watching his future demise and having to stand in the side lines is not.
Because some things we see are warnings.
Others are inevitable countdowns.
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