This is one of the best oneshots I've ever written and posted, or so I've been told. I hope you like it. It was another request, but I wanted to have fun with it.
I do not own Harry Potter, the Harry Potter series, or any of that stuff. No copyright infringement intended.
I can only watch from afar; no one will love you when you're just lost in time. There's no consistency, nothing to hold on to, nothing to latch your heart onto. I can't love either. I wish to be free of the curse, but doing so might destroy everything I hold dear to me, and my own life.
Hello, my name is Meghan Granger. I am Hermione's long lost sister, only, she doesn't know that.
A long, long time ago, at about age two I'd say, I showed my first signs of magic. I come from a family of muggles, and this was a big deal. Hermione had never showed what I showed.
I made the threes speak and the grass sing in rhyme. I made the clouds dance and the animals keep the tune.
However good this may sound, living in a muggle neighborhood, it wasn't. The muggle protection agency locked me up. I became an unnatural being, a monster, a freak.
This wasn't the first time magic was visible before the eyes of a muggle. It happens all the time with reckless wizards. Unfortunately for me, I displayed the properties of uncontrollable magic at age two, and they could not teach me the wrong of my actions.
I was in the closed ward of Saint Mungo's for close to six years. My family's memories were modified. They would never know who I was. I was tethered to no one. I was alone and dying.
At age ten, I escaped through the unlocked door of my ward, the mental ward. A careless healer in training had left it open and I pounced on the opportunity to wander into the open world.
I changed my name and knocked on the door of a family the minute I realized I could not do anything without assistance or money. This family was called the Clearwaters.
Ralph and Lita Clearwater, the parents of the household, could not have been more gracious to me. They let me move in and took care of me as if I was one of their own. The children, on the other hand, were not quite as kind.
Pheobe had finished her magical education the year before and hardly ever talked to me or even made eye contact. Penelope was in her fifth year at an institution called Hogwarts. She was the cruelest. She pointedly made out as if I wasn't there, even go so far as deny me food. She didn't like people intruding in her personal business. Patrick was too young at age seven to care about my presence, but seemed to think that I would be leaving soon.
On August twelfth, I turned eleven and received my Hogwarts letter as well. The Clearwater parents congratulated me and even went as far to admit that they had seen this coming. They knew I was magical. I vowed to myself to become less conspicuous.
So I went to Hogwarts that year. I made friends with the least popular girl in the school, Hermione Granger, my sister, but at the time I didn't know that she was. I never knew my last name until recently. My name that I gave myself was Megara Anthony, a very classical Greek name.
First and second years passed quickly, and, I realized at some point of my second year, that Hermione was my twin sister. A lot of people noticed our almost identical looks, even though I let my hair grow very long and braided it into a swinging rope, while hers looked like a bush stuck to the back of her skull.
The minute I figured out my sister's name and my past, I fled. I did not go home with the Clearwaters after the train home from second year. I ran away, through crowds of people to avoid them finding me. I knew I could no longer assume a false identity. I became a master of the shadows and was never seen again by them.
I lived on the streets for several days, and those days were the easiest. It was easy to make muggles feel sorry for me and spare me some change. I bought bread in the local store and kept myself alive.
One day, as I meandered aimlessly throughout Diagon Alley, a short, stubby, old warlock came up to greet me.
"Hello, young girl. I have foreseen this meeting."
I froze. By this point in time, I had known to avoid sketchy strangers, as I had many close calls with muggle strangers. However, this old warlock seemed fairly easy to run from, so I replied cautiously, "You have, have you?"
"Yes, Meghan. You do not know me, but I am a Seer, as you are."
"Seer? What's a Seer?" I was confused, as I had never heard the term before.
"One who can glance at the future when the time calls for such sight."
"And I'm one of them?" I asked, slowly, enunciating each word carefully, so as to bathe in the negative reply I would hopefully get back.
Instead, the warlock replied positively. "Yes you are. I foresaw this moment two weeks ago. You are homeless, helpless, and in need of help. And you do not like what you are hearing."
"I don't like the unfamiliar," I remarked, musing, "But I will hear you out. Tell me, can you see my next move?"
"I do not See upon command! But in Seeing the unfamiliar is your friend, and it would be wise to become accustomed to it."
"We're acquainted," I replied dryly, "I wouldn't go as far as saying we're friends though. Anyway, so what's the big deal about this anyway?"
"Meghan Granger, hold your tongue! Seeing is an ancient power, that goes back farther than the first civilizations of wizards. We are the carriers of a majestic power and the bearers of the burden as well."
"The burden?" I inquired, my eyes doubtful.
"Oh, yes, the burden," the warlock said into the sky, "The burden of the Sight for one thing. But for another, we must pass on our Sight so that the next generations may possess our knowledge."
"So you're telling me to see and have babies, are you?" I said, putting two and two together.
The warlock looked disgusted. "Child, what have I told you? This ancient practice is nothing to joke about. You are a Seer whether you like it or not, and you must learn how to properly use your Sight unless you want the pain of the unforeseeable and unlucky for the rest of your mortal life!"
"And you're saying that you have good luck and can see everything that will happen?" I tried to use some of my innocent charm, but the stranger didn't even look down at me.
Speaking into the sky again, the warlock spoke. "I am two hundred years old, girl. I have never had an ounce of pain in my life because I can use my Sight properly. Now, would you like to learn or not?"
"Learn from who?"
"Why, myself of course, do you see another capable teacher?"
I fought back a retort that was struggling to escape my lips, and managed to hold it down. Instead of being sarcastic and possibly cynical, I spoke, "No, I do not. I feel that perhaps, this Sight might be worth having. I would like to learn, Mister..." I did not remember his name, but I did not think he gave it to me in the first place.
"Just call me The Sight Man."
"Mr. Sight Man, then."
He smiled, making the wizened skin that was visible under his cloak crack horribly. "You have much to learn."
He did teach me, and, it took me six months to master my Sight to his satisfaction. My thirteenth birthday had come and gone. I left the Sight Man during the night, knowing he would know I did and know why as well.
I couldn't take it anymore, not knowing. Despite what the Sight Man had taught me about the world, I still feared the unfamiliar. I feared myself, my abilities, my strengths and weaknesses. I didn't know what I was capable. People at Hogwarts called me brilliant, but one teacher called me a "sarcastic pig." That made me self-conscious. I didn't know what I was, as I couldn't see anywhere but outward.
I left to learn my past, and hopefully, to find the answers I searched so long and hard for.
To do that, I knew I had to break into the Department of Mysteries. I learned at Hogwarts from Professor Flitwick that Time Turners were found there. I needed one to proceed in my business.
So the deed was done, and I had the hourglass shaped necklace around my neck. No signs of a break-in were found, as I could foresee how best to break in in the first place. The Sight was helpful; I had to hand it to the Sight Man that he did know what he was talking about.
To test the Time Turner I set it back a year to my second year at Hogwarts. It was during a Feast, and I found myself outside the Hogwarts building because that was where I wished to be.
I let myself in, trying to avoid the people that passed, but that was an easy feat. They never noticed me before. That hard part would be hiding myself from myself. I could foresee when I would make my way down the corridor, talking to Hermione about Transfiguration and how easy school was. She hesitantly agreed and struggled to beat me in classes.
I walked around the school, occasionally ducking to avoid the gaze of teachers, but going around completely unnoticed. I could have been an axe-murderer but no one would have noticed. I did not want to be detected, and no one could find me but a Seer. I knew that, and did my best to forsee the movement of Hogwarts' own Seer, Trelawney.
She remained up in her tower, but I couldn't be sure of whether or not she had Seen me. If she did, she wasn't doing anything about it, and I decided not to worry myself with it. I would not remain at this point in time for much longer.
I saw faces I had not seen for a long time. I saw Penelope Clearwater, her nose turned up, snubbing people as she walked, hand in hand with Percy Weasley. I saw Ron Weasley, one of my acquaintances, a fellow Gryffindor. I saw several Slytherins, ones I disliked, and, with a lurch of my stomach, laid my eyes on Draco Malfoy. Just his arrogant smirk was enough to make my blood boil. He was so over confident! It was disgusting. He wanted his presence known, so different from the way I perceived things from my point of view in life. I did not want to be seen and therefore wasn't. He wanted to be seen, to have people worship him, and they did, except for me; I saw through his diguise like he was transparent.
Lastly, I saw a face that I was looking for. It was the face of Harry Potter.
The scar, the green eyes, the slim figure, everything I remembered had still held true. My past eyes and memory had not betrayed me. We was the same as ever, and I still had the old same as ever unknown attraction to him.
I couldn't stay away and I couldn't seen anything in his future but death. I wanted to protect him, but I didn't want to leave my mask of deception. My name wasn't Megara Anthony as he knew it, but was Meghan Granger, the product of the negligence of society.
I would not call my feelings love, just obsession. I wanted to let him know it was I who lurked in the shadows, but I knew it would not go over well. I tried to See the outcome, but my decision to talk to him hadn't been made up yet, and therefore my Sight was void.
He walked on, talking to Ron Weasley. My ears picked up on the conversation as I followed them, creeping in the darkness behind walls and columns.
"I can't stand that Lockhart. He's a bloody moron I reckon," Ron said to Harry, shifting his books in his arms.
"I well agree, but, that strange happening in detention last night is still disconcerting..."
"What do you mean?" Ron wondered.
"I mean that I'm hearing voices. Hermione says it's never good to hear voices, but I know I can't tell anyone or they'll think I was crazy..."
I could sympathize with him. If you did one thing wrong in society, just one tiny thing out of the normal order and expectation, then you were shipped off to a mental facility. I didn't want to be there ever again, and I certainly hoped that he wouldn't be there either.
"Well, what did it sound like?" Ron wondered again.
"Kind of like a hissing, strangling noise, but at the same time, it told me to kill. It said it was thirsting for blood."
"A vampire?" Ron suggested.
"I doubt it," Harry denied, "More sinister. Remember, no one else could hear it."
"I don't know, mate, maybe you are crazy," Ron said, lamely.
"Yeah, that would be a better explanation than I can think of," Harry said, glumly.
I felt bad for him, but, in my feelings of pity and sympathy, let my face out into the light. They spotted my immediately.
"Megara?" Harry questioned suspiciously as I emerged from the shadows, my head hanging in shame.
"Yes, it is me," I admitted, my head hanging even lower.
"Where are your school robes?" Ron blurted, unable to control himself. That was typical.
"I changed. I slipped and fell into a puddle of mud and it wouldn't come off..." I lied quickly.
"What about 'scourgify'?" Ron said, looking arrogant.
"It was prank mud," I lied again, "So McGonagall is trying to get it off in her office now."
"Charms are too easy for the best of our year and possibly the school, but when it comes to prank mud...oh no..." Ron mocked, looking completely cocky. I would have to fix that.
"Get lost Ron," Harry growled through his teeth, beating me to it.
Ron obeyed hesitantly, and took off running, his shoes clomping and punctuating his every footstep.
"Megara, why are you here now? You should be in Potions," Harry said, "You would never miss a class."
Forseeing the future, I considered my options, then took a breath and carefully said, "Harry, you cannot be alarmed by my response, but I must tell you my story."
Harry looked a little skeptical, but nodded all the same. I took a deep breath and told my story:
"Harry, I'm not my current self. I'm taller, bigger, and, I'd like to say smarter than my twelve year old self. I'm thirteen. I'm from the future."
He looked a little shocked, but it seemed to be nothing unmanageable so I went on:
"My name is not Megara, for starters, it's Meghan. Granger, not Anthony."
He cut in, "But that's..."
"Hermione's name, I know. She's my twin sister. We were separated at birth and I was confined to a mental ward. That's another story completely. My whole life is made of disguise and deception, like a Shakespeare comedy. But there is no humor in these thirteen years.
"In the past year I have Seen what will happen in the future to come, and by that, I mean what will happen to you when you turn seventeen. I am a Seer, a power that gives me the ability to see the future as it presents itself to me.
"Your future is stalked with death and despair," I finished, and watched as his face became a mask of horror.
"I'm...I'm..." he stammered, but I calmly looked into his eyes and said, "You will face Voldemort inevitably. If you are not prepared for that encounter properly, then you will die. I can tell you what to do."
Harry shook his head. "I knew there was something wrong with you the minute I saw you. the thing is, that I was wrong. Nothing's wrong with you, rather, everything's right with you. It's like you're the perfect child."
"You're missing the point. You are going to die if you are not ready for this meeting of power and death. For neither one of you can live while the other survives!" I exclaimed, referring to a previous vision and, at the same time, losing any hold or restrain on emotion that I had before.
"No, you're missing the point, Meg, I like you."
"But you're going to die!"
"But I like you!"
"But you're going to die! I can't let that happen!" I shrieked, my arms waving in the air as if to beat some sense into him.
"No, Meg, you don't get it," Harry said, shaking me on the shoulders, "I. Like. You. Get it now?" He smiled like an immature child telling a secret.
"You are you talking about? Of all the bloody things to reply with, you say that," I said, disbelievingly.
"Just shut up and like me back, okay, Meg? You know you do."
"I know you're right," I admitted, sighing, "But this isn't an appropriate time to be discussing this matter."
Then, before I could tell what was going on, Harry kissed me. I could not have forseen it because he did it on impulse, my stupid slow senses. But I found that i was enjoying the feeling of his lips on mine. Still, I knew I could not waste time on this. I only had so much time to remain in the future.
I pulled away and breathed quickly, "You must unite the Hallows. You have the cloak but you need two other items. You must destroy the pieces of Voldemort's soul for him to be mortal once more. But you must keep me from your memory. I am a dream, got it?"
"No, you're not. Come back," Harry pleaded.
"I cannot, and any moment I will disappear."
"No you won't. You're not a dream," he said simply but stubbornly.
Then I did something I knew I would always regret. I raised my wand and muttered, "Obliviate!"
As I felt my being disintegrate, I touched Harry's face for the last time. "I love you Harry, but goodbye," I said, looking into those green but far off eyes.
I do not own Harry Potter, the Harry Potter series, or any of that stuff. No copyright infringement intended.
I can only watch from afar; no one will love you when you're just lost in time. There's no consistency, nothing to hold on to, nothing to latch your heart onto. I can't love either. I wish to be free of the curse, but doing so might destroy everything I hold dear to me, and my own life.
Hello, my name is Meghan Granger. I am Hermione's long lost sister, only, she doesn't know that.
A long, long time ago, at about age two I'd say, I showed my first signs of magic. I come from a family of muggles, and this was a big deal. Hermione had never showed what I showed.
I made the threes speak and the grass sing in rhyme. I made the clouds dance and the animals keep the tune.
However good this may sound, living in a muggle neighborhood, it wasn't. The muggle protection agency locked me up. I became an unnatural being, a monster, a freak.
This wasn't the first time magic was visible before the eyes of a muggle. It happens all the time with reckless wizards. Unfortunately for me, I displayed the properties of uncontrollable magic at age two, and they could not teach me the wrong of my actions.
I was in the closed ward of Saint Mungo's for close to six years. My family's memories were modified. They would never know who I was. I was tethered to no one. I was alone and dying.
At age ten, I escaped through the unlocked door of my ward, the mental ward. A careless healer in training had left it open and I pounced on the opportunity to wander into the open world.
I changed my name and knocked on the door of a family the minute I realized I could not do anything without assistance or money. This family was called the Clearwaters.
Ralph and Lita Clearwater, the parents of the household, could not have been more gracious to me. They let me move in and took care of me as if I was one of their own. The children, on the other hand, were not quite as kind.
Pheobe had finished her magical education the year before and hardly ever talked to me or even made eye contact. Penelope was in her fifth year at an institution called Hogwarts. She was the cruelest. She pointedly made out as if I wasn't there, even go so far as deny me food. She didn't like people intruding in her personal business. Patrick was too young at age seven to care about my presence, but seemed to think that I would be leaving soon.
On August twelfth, I turned eleven and received my Hogwarts letter as well. The Clearwater parents congratulated me and even went as far to admit that they had seen this coming. They knew I was magical. I vowed to myself to become less conspicuous.
So I went to Hogwarts that year. I made friends with the least popular girl in the school, Hermione Granger, my sister, but at the time I didn't know that she was. I never knew my last name until recently. My name that I gave myself was Megara Anthony, a very classical Greek name.
First and second years passed quickly, and, I realized at some point of my second year, that Hermione was my twin sister. A lot of people noticed our almost identical looks, even though I let my hair grow very long and braided it into a swinging rope, while hers looked like a bush stuck to the back of her skull.
The minute I figured out my sister's name and my past, I fled. I did not go home with the Clearwaters after the train home from second year. I ran away, through crowds of people to avoid them finding me. I knew I could no longer assume a false identity. I became a master of the shadows and was never seen again by them.
I lived on the streets for several days, and those days were the easiest. It was easy to make muggles feel sorry for me and spare me some change. I bought bread in the local store and kept myself alive.
One day, as I meandered aimlessly throughout Diagon Alley, a short, stubby, old warlock came up to greet me.
"Hello, young girl. I have foreseen this meeting."
I froze. By this point in time, I had known to avoid sketchy strangers, as I had many close calls with muggle strangers. However, this old warlock seemed fairly easy to run from, so I replied cautiously, "You have, have you?"
"Yes, Meghan. You do not know me, but I am a Seer, as you are."
"Seer? What's a Seer?" I was confused, as I had never heard the term before.
"One who can glance at the future when the time calls for such sight."
"And I'm one of them?" I asked, slowly, enunciating each word carefully, so as to bathe in the negative reply I would hopefully get back.
Instead, the warlock replied positively. "Yes you are. I foresaw this moment two weeks ago. You are homeless, helpless, and in need of help. And you do not like what you are hearing."
"I don't like the unfamiliar," I remarked, musing, "But I will hear you out. Tell me, can you see my next move?"
"I do not See upon command! But in Seeing the unfamiliar is your friend, and it would be wise to become accustomed to it."
"We're acquainted," I replied dryly, "I wouldn't go as far as saying we're friends though. Anyway, so what's the big deal about this anyway?"
"Meghan Granger, hold your tongue! Seeing is an ancient power, that goes back farther than the first civilizations of wizards. We are the carriers of a majestic power and the bearers of the burden as well."
"The burden?" I inquired, my eyes doubtful.
"Oh, yes, the burden," the warlock said into the sky, "The burden of the Sight for one thing. But for another, we must pass on our Sight so that the next generations may possess our knowledge."
"So you're telling me to see and have babies, are you?" I said, putting two and two together.
The warlock looked disgusted. "Child, what have I told you? This ancient practice is nothing to joke about. You are a Seer whether you like it or not, and you must learn how to properly use your Sight unless you want the pain of the unforeseeable and unlucky for the rest of your mortal life!"
"And you're saying that you have good luck and can see everything that will happen?" I tried to use some of my innocent charm, but the stranger didn't even look down at me.
Speaking into the sky again, the warlock spoke. "I am two hundred years old, girl. I have never had an ounce of pain in my life because I can use my Sight properly. Now, would you like to learn or not?"
"Learn from who?"
"Why, myself of course, do you see another capable teacher?"
I fought back a retort that was struggling to escape my lips, and managed to hold it down. Instead of being sarcastic and possibly cynical, I spoke, "No, I do not. I feel that perhaps, this Sight might be worth having. I would like to learn, Mister..." I did not remember his name, but I did not think he gave it to me in the first place.
"Just call me The Sight Man."
"Mr. Sight Man, then."
He smiled, making the wizened skin that was visible under his cloak crack horribly. "You have much to learn."
He did teach me, and, it took me six months to master my Sight to his satisfaction. My thirteenth birthday had come and gone. I left the Sight Man during the night, knowing he would know I did and know why as well.
I couldn't take it anymore, not knowing. Despite what the Sight Man had taught me about the world, I still feared the unfamiliar. I feared myself, my abilities, my strengths and weaknesses. I didn't know what I was capable. People at Hogwarts called me brilliant, but one teacher called me a "sarcastic pig." That made me self-conscious. I didn't know what I was, as I couldn't see anywhere but outward.
I left to learn my past, and hopefully, to find the answers I searched so long and hard for.
To do that, I knew I had to break into the Department of Mysteries. I learned at Hogwarts from Professor Flitwick that Time Turners were found there. I needed one to proceed in my business.
So the deed was done, and I had the hourglass shaped necklace around my neck. No signs of a break-in were found, as I could foresee how best to break in in the first place. The Sight was helpful; I had to hand it to the Sight Man that he did know what he was talking about.
To test the Time Turner I set it back a year to my second year at Hogwarts. It was during a Feast, and I found myself outside the Hogwarts building because that was where I wished to be.
I let myself in, trying to avoid the people that passed, but that was an easy feat. They never noticed me before. That hard part would be hiding myself from myself. I could foresee when I would make my way down the corridor, talking to Hermione about Transfiguration and how easy school was. She hesitantly agreed and struggled to beat me in classes.
I walked around the school, occasionally ducking to avoid the gaze of teachers, but going around completely unnoticed. I could have been an axe-murderer but no one would have noticed. I did not want to be detected, and no one could find me but a Seer. I knew that, and did my best to forsee the movement of Hogwarts' own Seer, Trelawney.
She remained up in her tower, but I couldn't be sure of whether or not she had Seen me. If she did, she wasn't doing anything about it, and I decided not to worry myself with it. I would not remain at this point in time for much longer.
I saw faces I had not seen for a long time. I saw Penelope Clearwater, her nose turned up, snubbing people as she walked, hand in hand with Percy Weasley. I saw Ron Weasley, one of my acquaintances, a fellow Gryffindor. I saw several Slytherins, ones I disliked, and, with a lurch of my stomach, laid my eyes on Draco Malfoy. Just his arrogant smirk was enough to make my blood boil. He was so over confident! It was disgusting. He wanted his presence known, so different from the way I perceived things from my point of view in life. I did not want to be seen and therefore wasn't. He wanted to be seen, to have people worship him, and they did, except for me; I saw through his diguise like he was transparent.
Lastly, I saw a face that I was looking for. It was the face of Harry Potter.
The scar, the green eyes, the slim figure, everything I remembered had still held true. My past eyes and memory had not betrayed me. We was the same as ever, and I still had the old same as ever unknown attraction to him.
I couldn't stay away and I couldn't seen anything in his future but death. I wanted to protect him, but I didn't want to leave my mask of deception. My name wasn't Megara Anthony as he knew it, but was Meghan Granger, the product of the negligence of society.
I would not call my feelings love, just obsession. I wanted to let him know it was I who lurked in the shadows, but I knew it would not go over well. I tried to See the outcome, but my decision to talk to him hadn't been made up yet, and therefore my Sight was void.
He walked on, talking to Ron Weasley. My ears picked up on the conversation as I followed them, creeping in the darkness behind walls and columns.
"I can't stand that Lockhart. He's a bloody moron I reckon," Ron said to Harry, shifting his books in his arms.
"I well agree, but, that strange happening in detention last night is still disconcerting..."
"What do you mean?" Ron wondered.
"I mean that I'm hearing voices. Hermione says it's never good to hear voices, but I know I can't tell anyone or they'll think I was crazy..."
I could sympathize with him. If you did one thing wrong in society, just one tiny thing out of the normal order and expectation, then you were shipped off to a mental facility. I didn't want to be there ever again, and I certainly hoped that he wouldn't be there either.
"Well, what did it sound like?" Ron wondered again.
"Kind of like a hissing, strangling noise, but at the same time, it told me to kill. It said it was thirsting for blood."
"A vampire?" Ron suggested.
"I doubt it," Harry denied, "More sinister. Remember, no one else could hear it."
"I don't know, mate, maybe you are crazy," Ron said, lamely.
"Yeah, that would be a better explanation than I can think of," Harry said, glumly.
I felt bad for him, but, in my feelings of pity and sympathy, let my face out into the light. They spotted my immediately.
"Megara?" Harry questioned suspiciously as I emerged from the shadows, my head hanging in shame.
"Yes, it is me," I admitted, my head hanging even lower.
"Where are your school robes?" Ron blurted, unable to control himself. That was typical.
"I changed. I slipped and fell into a puddle of mud and it wouldn't come off..." I lied quickly.
"What about 'scourgify'?" Ron said, looking arrogant.
"It was prank mud," I lied again, "So McGonagall is trying to get it off in her office now."
"Charms are too easy for the best of our year and possibly the school, but when it comes to prank mud...oh no..." Ron mocked, looking completely cocky. I would have to fix that.
"Get lost Ron," Harry growled through his teeth, beating me to it.
Ron obeyed hesitantly, and took off running, his shoes clomping and punctuating his every footstep.
"Megara, why are you here now? You should be in Potions," Harry said, "You would never miss a class."
Forseeing the future, I considered my options, then took a breath and carefully said, "Harry, you cannot be alarmed by my response, but I must tell you my story."
Harry looked a little skeptical, but nodded all the same. I took a deep breath and told my story:
"Harry, I'm not my current self. I'm taller, bigger, and, I'd like to say smarter than my twelve year old self. I'm thirteen. I'm from the future."
He looked a little shocked, but it seemed to be nothing unmanageable so I went on:
"My name is not Megara, for starters, it's Meghan. Granger, not Anthony."
He cut in, "But that's..."
"Hermione's name, I know. She's my twin sister. We were separated at birth and I was confined to a mental ward. That's another story completely. My whole life is made of disguise and deception, like a Shakespeare comedy. But there is no humor in these thirteen years.
"In the past year I have Seen what will happen in the future to come, and by that, I mean what will happen to you when you turn seventeen. I am a Seer, a power that gives me the ability to see the future as it presents itself to me.
"Your future is stalked with death and despair," I finished, and watched as his face became a mask of horror.
"I'm...I'm..." he stammered, but I calmly looked into his eyes and said, "You will face Voldemort inevitably. If you are not prepared for that encounter properly, then you will die. I can tell you what to do."
Harry shook his head. "I knew there was something wrong with you the minute I saw you. the thing is, that I was wrong. Nothing's wrong with you, rather, everything's right with you. It's like you're the perfect child."
"You're missing the point. You are going to die if you are not ready for this meeting of power and death. For neither one of you can live while the other survives!" I exclaimed, referring to a previous vision and, at the same time, losing any hold or restrain on emotion that I had before.
"No, you're missing the point, Meg, I like you."
"But you're going to die!"
"But I like you!"
"But you're going to die! I can't let that happen!" I shrieked, my arms waving in the air as if to beat some sense into him.
"No, Meg, you don't get it," Harry said, shaking me on the shoulders, "I. Like. You. Get it now?" He smiled like an immature child telling a secret.
"You are you talking about? Of all the bloody things to reply with, you say that," I said, disbelievingly.
"Just shut up and like me back, okay, Meg? You know you do."
"I know you're right," I admitted, sighing, "But this isn't an appropriate time to be discussing this matter."
Then, before I could tell what was going on, Harry kissed me. I could not have forseen it because he did it on impulse, my stupid slow senses. But I found that i was enjoying the feeling of his lips on mine. Still, I knew I could not waste time on this. I only had so much time to remain in the future.
I pulled away and breathed quickly, "You must unite the Hallows. You have the cloak but you need two other items. You must destroy the pieces of Voldemort's soul for him to be mortal once more. But you must keep me from your memory. I am a dream, got it?"
"No, you're not. Come back," Harry pleaded.
"I cannot, and any moment I will disappear."
"No you won't. You're not a dream," he said simply but stubbornly.
Then I did something I knew I would always regret. I raised my wand and muttered, "Obliviate!"
As I felt my being disintegrate, I touched Harry's face for the last time. "I love you Harry, but goodbye," I said, looking into those green but far off eyes.
