Prologue

The bus pulled up to the faded red Victorian house on Prescott Street. The brakes squeaked as the door slid open and three girls stepped off. The driver waved to them before shutting the door and continuing on with his route. The oldest of the girls ushered the other two up the steps and to the front door. She tried the knob but found it locked.

"Prue lost her key again," Phoebe taunted, receiving a glare from her older sibling.

"Grams is going to be mad," Piper added as she watched Prue search under the mailbox for the spare.

"Not if no one tells her," Prue countered, eyeing her younger sisters sternly. She found the extra key and inserted it in the lock. With a swift push the ten-year-old had the door open and stepped inside. Phoebe pushed the front door shut with all the strength she could muster with her five-year-old arms.

'Girls, is that you?" Penny Halliwell called.

"Yeah, it's us, Grams," Prue replied, heading into the kitchen. Grams was standing over a large pot on the stove.

"Hi Grams," Piper greeted, giving her grandmother a hug and trying to peak over the edge of the pot.

"No peeking. It's a surprise," Grams chided, ruffling Piper's hair.

"How was school today?" she addressed her other two granddaughters.

"Prue lost her key again," Phoebe repeated, getting swift kick in the shin from Prue.

"Prudence," Grams said sternly.

"Tattle tale," Prue muttered out of the corner of her mouth. Without another word, the ten-year-old stormed out of the room. Phoebe started to giggle but caught Grams' disapproving look.

"Phoebe that wasn't very nice to tell on your sister," the aged woman scolded.

"Sorry," Phoebe mumbled.

"Go tell that to your sister," her grandmother ordered. With an over exaggerated huff, Phoebe scurried off upstairs.

"Grams," Piper called, sounding a little scared.

"What is it dear?" Penny questioned turning around to find her middle grandchild pointing at the pot.

"It's bubbling," the eight-year-old informed her. Quickly, Penny turned the heat of the burner down. The contents of the pot began to settle down.

"Thank you sweetheart. Now why don't you run along and see what your sisters are doing," she suggested. Piper nodded and dutifully headed upstairs. She headed to the room she shared with Phoebe to drop off her backpack. Just as she set it on her bed, she heard her sister's in the next room. She hurried in to find Prue glaring at a sniffling Phoebe.

"What happened?" the middle child questioned.

"Prue pushed me," the five-year-old whimpered.

"I did not," Prue denied.

"Grams said for Phoebe to apologize for ratting on you. You didn't have to push her," Piper interjected.

"I swear I didn't touch her!" Prue protested. Regardless, she bent down and pulled her baby sister into a hug.

"I'm sorry Pheebs," she murmured, stroking the little girl's hair.

"Me too, Prue," Phoebe whispered.

"You need any help with your homework?" Prue asked.

"Since when do you help Phoebe with her homework? That's my job," Piper commented.

"Well didn't you say you had a lot of homework? I don't so I'll help her today," Prue answered.

Phoebe got up and ran to grab her backpack, leaving Piper alone in their room. She sat down on her bed and pulled out her math book. She hated math but Grams told her that she was good at it. She flipped through to the middle of the book and rummaged for a pencil in her bag. Back in Prue's room, she and Phoebe were curled up on her bed, reading together.

Downstairs, Grams was siphoning the contents of the pot into vials, bottling each with a cork. Once she'd bottled several batches, she tucked them away in the cabinet above the sink, out of the reach of the girls. Just as she set to cleaning the pot out, a noise caught her attention. She slowly turned around but nothing was there. She knew better than to dismiss something like this. She cautiously walked into the conservatory but found nothing. Next she found herself in the dining room when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She spun around and came face to face with a grotesque looking creature. His dark blue skin hung off his face like the jowls of a basset hound. Penny took a step back, colliding with the table.

"Don't scream," the demon hissed, flashing her a set of pointy yellow teeth.

"What do you want?" Penny asked, losing her usual confidence around demons. All she could focus on was the girls upstairs. She had to protect them. They were more vulnerable now than they had ever been.

"What any demon wants witch," he snickered and sent her flying over the table. She pulled herself up and sent him flying into the nearby wall.

"You're attempts are pathetic," he hissed, advancing on her.

"You can't have them. They don't have their powers. They're of no use to you," Penny tried to argue.

"But they will have them…once you're out of the way," he cackled.

Back upstairs, Piper looked up from her homework. She thought she'd heard a crash. She tossed her book aside and crept out into the hallway. She didn't see anything but she still got a bad feeling. Quickly Piper turned and walked into Prue's room.

"Did you hear a crash?" she asked her older sister.

"No, why?" Prue replied.

"I thought I heard something downstairs," the eight-year-old answered with a shrug. Suddenly there were footsteps on the stairs, causing all three girls to look up.

Penny was trying to move as fast as she could. She had to protect her granddaughters. She turned and almost slipped. He was standing there, a devious grin on his lips as he plunged his hand forward and into her chest. Penny's eyes widened in fear and shock as she felt the life slip out of her. It was painful, she could feel his clawed hand wrapped around her heart, willing it to stop. She gave a shuttered breath as her heart stopped beating. The demon pulled his hand out and watched as Grams fell down the stairs. He heard three pair of footsteps coming and shimmered out.

"Grams!" Piper shouted, running down the stairs at lightning speed to her grandmother's side. Phoebe looked down the stairs and clutched Prue's hand, burying her face in her sister's side. Slowly Prue led her baby sister down the stairs. The oldest managed to get a free hand to check for a pulse.

"She….she's dead," Prue rasped. This couldn't be happening. It was too soon. First her mother and now her grandmother. Without a sound she got up and started walking towards the kitchen.

"Prue. What are you doing?" Piper cried, not wanting to leave Grams' side.

"Calling the ambulance," Prue answered, her young voice hollow.