Similar to my other story, Interference, this will be told from another character's POV. It's a two-shot and the next, final chapter is nearly ready. Thanks for reading this and please leave a review. Also, I just posted a quick update to Interference! Enjoy and hope you're all well.

His life as Mike Shepard-the-weird-kid-on-162-Bluebell-Lane-who-can-predict-things ended when he received his acceptance letter to Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and when he officially became Mike Shepard-the-wizard-on-162-Bluebell-Lane. He spent his entire time at school, in between magical lessons and complicated romantic relationships, erasing traces of his early years. He promised he'd never again tell anyone how or when they would die. (It wasn't appreciated, apparently.) Or list the right Lotto numbers to play. (He'd never do it for his neighbor Old Man Sam whose favorite pastime was spitting from his front steps and letting it soar toward any random passerby on the sidewalk.) Or say which team to bet on for the Quidditch World Cup (Okay, maybe it was one time in 1994.)

No, his life as a wizard was already special; he didn't want to make it too special. It had worked well enough over the years.

However, Mike's staunch resolution dismayed his mother, who made quite a good living in the psychic circuit in middle-of-nowhere Arkansas. A pure-blood witch, she oddly preferred the Muggle world. She didn't think it was cheating in any way that she was a direct descendant of the seer Faye Sable Eloise Flanagan and, at some point in history, a relative of the medium Henrietta Abel. Mike's mother begged him to embrace his gifts; please, he was her only son and he should continue their "legacy," even though it'd only been her and him their entire lives.

Madame Morgiana—"It's more exotic than plain Morgan, right?" his mother asked rhetorically—passed away three months and five days ago, and her death shook Mike's world more than he expected. It blew all of his senses into haywire, and Mike had wondered once or twice if his mother had passed him her gifts from The Next Realm. He didn't know if it was possible, but if anyone could do it, it would have been his mother. He felt more things in the air. He sensed people's emotions. And he even saw into more people's lives. One touch would set him right off.

When he met Harry Potter on the first day of Auror training two years ago, Mike shivered. A horrible past clung to the man, but thankfully it was only a shade of the suffering he'd lived through. Mike sensed it would fall away, but he also knew that he was reading the aura of the famous "Man Who Defeated the Dark Lord." That kind of title came with baggage.

What Mike didn't expect to do was to befriend a perfectly normal man. Exceptional in his wand fighting skills and not pretentious at all, Harry wasn't the pompous hero that most expected. But he was, still, private. While he was congenial, Mike realized, six months into working alongside him, that Harry would only mention a few names during conversations amongst the team. The Weasleys seemed to be his adopted family. There were apparently many members, including a fiery matriarch, a list of talented sons, and one daughter who—despite one long-ago romantic entanglement—now felt very much like a sister. Ron Weasley was his best friend.

Then there was someone named Hermione Granger.

Mike gleaned from Harry's aura an array of emotions at the mention of Hermione's name—a rainbow, really, which made him feel like Madame Morgiana by phrasing it in such a way. His mother would've gleefully shouted the following truth, whereas Mike only begrudgingly acknowledged it: This man was in love.

Harry Potter would receive letters on missions, then find a corner to read them, his aura practically glowing. And while their teammates couldn't see the reality that Mike "saw"—including the bit about Hermione and Ron being already romantically involved—the fact that a full-grown man was hiding letters sent by a woman was a perfect reason to joke around. Yet, Harry, being Harry, never gave in, only telling them to "Shut it." That only made things worse, but things eventually died down once his teammates thought more about it and understood that Harry, if he were so inclined, could blast the lot of them to pieces.