"The baby isn't going to live more than a few months," he admitted, voice thick with emotion. This was part of the gift Grandma Esther so desperately tried to warn him about. And it wasn't that she was trying to warn him so as to ward him off from use of the gift, but merely to make sure he understood from a young age that not everything the inner eye saw was lovely.
He drew his knees up suddenly and made move to hug his legs tight to his chest. He buried his face against his knees and closed his eyes tight. His effort to wish away the vision was in vain. Eyes closed or open there it was: the brief and terrible vision of a child dying with nothing any healer could do.
"Do you know how to do an obliviation charm?" he asked, words muffled.