A few snowflakes were drifting through the air, on a calm December night, as a cloaked figure sat down on a bench, with only the thin beam of a street light illuminating his surroundings. He looked to the hospital car park on the other side of the road. In the car park, a lone was seen pulling up, and a man and a pregnant woman climbing out, shouting at each other, before heading into the hospital.

Observing the scene, the old man pulled out a lighter. He flicked it a couple of times, and the light from the street lamp shimmered slightly, before pulling away from the lamp, and funnelling into the lighter.

“I see you’ve made the trip to this side of the ocean as well,” he said, turning to a small, silver, tabby cat who had jumped up on the bench beside him.

 The cat looked at him for a second, before growing, and unfolding into the shape of a woman.

“I’m as concerned as you are,” the woman said, pulling her robes tightly around her, shivering slightly in the cold air.

“Quite,” he replied.

“It’s not everyday that we see the birth a girl who will change the world, let alone two.”

“At least, not in the same generation,” the older man replied, his long, grey beard spilling out of his robes.

“The prophecies, Albus,” the old woman said, her voice raising a little in uncertainty, “They never foresaw such an outcome.”

“You know as well as I do, my dear Minerva, that despite all our advances, the art of prophecy is still an inexact one.”

“I’ll say,” she answered, scoffing, “If I had a knut for every time Sybil told me all my students would fail their OWLs, I’d be a much richer woman.”

“Is this your way of asking me for a pay raise?” The man said, chuckling.

“It was just an observation.”

“Hmm, indeed,” he replied, before growing serious again. “But Sybil, for all her eccentricities, is still the most remarkable seer I know. And she has recently shown, she is more than capable of shaking us out of our complacency.”

“Yes, that she has. But, I must say, this new prophecy of hers is hardly one that bodes well for our future.”

“There shall be a second…” the man began to recite from memory, “Born from pain, marked by darkness…”

 “And together and against each other, they shall rise and fall…” she continued.

“The balance will be altered… A new seed, illuminated by the burning flames,” he finished.

They sat in silence for a few moments, staring at each other gravely, before the woman spoke up, her voice oddly fragile.

“What are we going to do, Albus?”

“When the times comes,” he replied, “I shall arrange for her to get her acceptance sent from Hogwarts. From what I’ve seen today of her family, I fear that it will be all to easy to convince her to come.”

“And the other?”

“She is a year older. She’ll be at our school first. We will have to make sure she doesn’t fall into the wrong crowd.”

They sat in silence a little longer, lost in thought, before the woman stood up from the bench.

“I suppose we’ll just have to keep an eye on the two of them,” she said. “I will see you soon Albus.”

“Until later,” the man said, waving goodbye to the woman as she shrunk back into the silver tabby, before walking away.

Once she was gone, the old man sat back, and sighed. He stayed a while longer, watching the hospital, before taking out his lighter, flicking the street light back on, and turning away.