This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and/or Marvel Comics, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, Marvel Comics, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. (I think that covers it)

All characters, settings, and situations not pertaining to the aforementioned are property of Trinity Heart.

Three years ago...

She didn't know what to expect when she went to see him. When she made her resolution to visit him, she first envisioned him in one of those prison cells like they show on those Muggle cop shows. Then it dawned on her that her father was no ordinary Muggle, therefore they would go to extreme measures to make sure the man in custody would stay that way.

They would also go to great lengths to catch her.

She bit her lip as the guard opened the door and entered. Avery followed, unsure of her decision to come here. It had, after all, been over a year since she'd seen him. How much had he changed? Would he know her? Would he resent her for not writing until now? Would-

Her thoughts came to a halt, just like the guard before her. They had gone into a room that resembled an airline terminal. A long desk lined the east wall where two very strong men sat, looking rather bored over their game of cards. Against the west wall was something similar to the on-board baggage x-ray while a metal detector framed the door before them.

"Please remove all metallic items from your person and place them on the counter," one of the men behind the counter droned. "You may pick them up upon your departure from the St. Pierre Institute. Also remove any flammable material such as matches, lighters, perfume, flints, hairspray..."

As the man droned on, Avery began plucking hairpins from her hair and placed them on the table, soon followed by her necklace and two rings. She glanced at her escort for direction. He merely pointed towards the metal detector. Avery shrugged, then walked to the door that separated her from the answers she needed. She took a deep breath and started walking. She passed through the detector, which remained silent at her innocence, and to the door. Her hand trembled ever so slightly as she grasped the doorknob and turned it.

The door revealed a small room divided by Plexiglas. A chair and table with an ordinary black telephone stood in the middle of her half of the room while the other half mirrored it. She walked to the table and sat down to wait. No one sat across from her... yet. He would be here soon, though. She could feel it, yet at the same time, she couldn't help but feel that she, too, was a prisoner now.

A door on the other side of the room opened. A man in a wheelchair wearing the stereotypical orange prisoner's jumpsuit entered, being pushed by a masked figure in a suit scientists wear in nuclear waste areas. The prisoner was deposited at the table before his escort left the room.

John Allerdyce picked up the phone on his side of the Plexiglas. His daughter did the same. "Well, hello there, Coren," he said, using the alias she had told him in her letter. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Avery was silent, as her eyes grew wide with tears. The man before her looked nothing like the man taken from her so long ago, yet the twinkle in his eyes assured her he was no other. His skin was gray now instead of its once golden tan. His red hair had faded to brown and his blue eyes had died away to gray. Worst of all, the disease had taken over him now, covering him in ugly painful boils that were crusted over with pus.

"Hello... Uncle John. I guess you got my letter?"

'He looks so weak... My Daddy looks like my grandfather...'

"I did. How's school?"

"It's... great. I'm starting my third year at my new school this fall."

"Learning a lot?" Avery nodded. "That's good. You're with good people a t that school. You'll learn a lotta good things there, as long as you put 'em to good use."

"Yeah..."

John smiled weakly. "So... Is there a reason why you stopped by?" He glanced at the corner behind him at the video camera surveying their every move.

Avery nodded in understanding. She also assumed their conversation was tapped as well, so she chose her words carefully. "I was... sick recently. Auntie said you had the same thing once... when you were about my age."

John's head lifted slightly as a look of understanding came to his eyes. "Uh-huh," he said. "I think I know what you're talking about. Did she tell you how it took to me?"

She nodded. "Yeah, she said it... hit you pretty hard?"

Again, John nodded. "Real hard," he echoed. "Did she say your symptoms were the same as mine?" He received a nod in response. "Uh-huh. Well... Be careful, Coren."

Avery inhaled sharply. So it is genetic. "Do you think my brother will get it?"

"Who's to say?" His voice was calm, but his eyes were troubled. "Watch out for him, and if he does... catch it... you watch out for him."

"I will," she said, then hesitated. "Uncle John?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened to Aunt Tabitha?"

There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence. John's smile faded as his chin dropped to his chest. She had asked a difficult question and she knew it, so she allowed him all the time he needed. 'She was his wife, after all... But she's my mother, too. '

"She was murdered, back when we lived in England," he replied softly after a few moments. "You were too young to remember, only three if I was guessing. There was some stuff going on outside of London, some bad stuff. Some even called it a war."

He caught her eye, looking for understanding. She nodded quickly. "We learned about it in school," she said.

"Tabitha-God bless her-always tried to be some kinda vigilante among her family and colleges... You remember where she worked, right?"

"Yeah, I remember you telling me once."

"Yeah... She got wrapped up in all the war happenings and she... She was murdered days after we thought the war was over."

You-Know-Who... "By one of... the head man's followers?"

John nodded. "Never caught the bastard, either. I had the cops, the Ministry..."

Avery winced at his slip-up.

"...The whole damn continent looking for him. All I got was his first name and nothing more.

"What was it?"

"Lucius. Damn bastard of a name..."

She could see tears threatening to spill from her father's eyes at the thought of her mother's death, so she quickly thought of a better subject. "I miss you."

John's smile had long since faded, but did not return at her words. "I miss you, too, love."

"I wish you could come visit us, and take care of us... like you used to." The lies were coming easier now as metaphors took the place of truth.

"Me, too. But we wouldn't want you catching the ol' Legacy Virus, too, now would we?"

If she was like him, then she would. Then she'd die slowly, just like he was now. "Yeah, that'd suck," she replied while forcing a laugh. "I can do magic tricks now, Uncle John."

"Really? What can you do?"

"I learned them while I was sick... You know, just like you." Her eyes lifted and met his. "I can do all the tricks you used to be able to do."

A grim smile was all John could force. "Yeah," he replied. "Just like me."

TH