Chapter Two

"How did you find out?" Bonnie asked.

"I overheard mom once," I said with a shrug. It was the surest bet of something which couldn't be checked out. Talking about her reached at my heartstrings but it had to be done. "She must have been practising or something, because she was stringing Latin words together. I managed to catch one, Motus, and I thought it sounded close to motion. It was childish but I tried it out and it worked," I grinned at this before I frowned. "Before I found myself in hospital that is."

"I remember that," said Bonnie. "It was also the day when," she paused, deciding something before shaking her head. "I guess that's when they took away you memories?"

"Yeah."

"How was it? Having your memories gone?" she asked.

"It's weird," I said with a shrug. "Then, I didn't even realise it." Which was true, at least from the facsimile's perspective. It hadn't understood clearly why it had been in the hospital, of course Grams had filled it in with saying it had slipped in the shower and hit its head. "But all of a sudden it hit me. Everything just suddenly made sense, especially the strange things you've begun to deal with."

"The visions and feelings are part of being a witch?"

I shrugged. "Grams didn't really tell me much about what we could do. She just…"

"Took your memories," said Bonnie softly. "How are you dealing with that?"

I took a moment, mulling over, trying to get a feel of my emotions. "I'm angry," I admitted. "Betrayed. Some part of me wants revenge. I'm a mess right now."

She took my hand, giving me a smile. "We'll get through this."

"At least we got to get out of school for this right?" The smile was forced and I'm sure Bonnie could see it was false, but she didn't say anything, only letting out an unladylike snort before her expression sobered.

"Elena is going to kill me," she said looking wide-eyed. "We were supposed to pick her up."

I winced. "Yeah, she's going to kill you. Call her. I'll show you the trick that got me in the hospital."

She got to her feet, pulling her phone from her pocket and beginning the call. The moment she was out was the moment I chose to test whether or not my endurance had increased. I took a firm hold of my pillow and threw it across the room before giving it a firm glare; focusing entirely on the pillow and to make it hover.

"Motus."

It wasn't as before. I felt power leave me and a connection form between me and the pillow before it slowly rose into the air and stopped in a gentle hover; a breath out and I focused, hoping that I had awareness enough of my own body that I might be able to feel it when unconsciousness came closer.

Up. Down. Left. Right. The pillow followed the instructions without resistance and I hadn't knocked myself out. How to sever the connection? Everything seemed to have a mental component, maybe stopping the spell was like cutting the connection I felt between the both of us. It worked. The pillow dropped, succumbing to the effects of gravity.

"Holy hell that is amazing." I jerked. Bonnie was at the door, mouth agape and staring. The pillow dropped.

Note to self: Situational aware is shoddy when entranced in a spell. I would have to start working on that.

Bonnie rushed into the room, closing the door with a bang and taking a seat beside me. "Teach to do that," she said with infectious enthusiasm.

"Okay," I took a breath and tried to order my thoughts. It made sense why most witches kept detailed journals of their spells; there was the obvious of a way to remember all the spells you had in your personal collection, but also the unique quality to spellcasting. "Focus is the first part and effect is the second. I focus entirely on the object I want to effect, picturing the effect in mind before saying the incantation."

Bonnie took another pillow and threw it to join the other; she took a breath and glared. "What was the incantation?"

"Motus."

"Okay," she said taking another breath and a look of intense focus appearing on her. A minute passed before she spoke the spell. Nothing happened. She frowned and it took me a moment to figure out that I was frowning too. "What am I doing wrong?"

"We're different," I said after a moment. "Maybe how we do spells is different too? Why don't you tried gesturing at it with your hand where you want it to move or you could start with something smaller?"

"I can do this," said Bonnie. "Focus, effect then incantation," she muttered. Her hand rose, palm pointing at the pillow. Her lips were about to move, but it was already done, the pillow rising from the ground as though carried by a gentle wind. She smiled and I felt oddly jealous.

"Nonverbal," I muttered. Wasn't that supposed to be impossible save for when Expression was concerned? The details were screwy in my mind, the only thing I still remembered from the shows were the big details, those that stuck, and the first few seasons I was at a complete blank.

Maybe Bonnie was a natural at this. The Bennett women were the most powerful witches in the series after all, maybe to them magic came naturally, they could feel the flow of things better than their male counterparts. After all I remembered vaguely it being said that they felt Nature, felt their environment, and such feelings not being true for me.

Did Nature know that I was something of an invader? Was this her way of restricting me from using magic? No, that didn't make any sense. As proof by the whole Mikaelson debacle Nature was about showy gestures. Breaking known her own laws and finding loopholes was showy in and of itself.

If she had wanted to, she could have just made me a squib.

She didn't, which made me think that maybe there was a plan for me.

My thoughts were interrupted by Bonnie. "How much do you think we can lift?" she asked. "I felt a rush and slightly tired from the spell, will that get worse the more an object weighs?"

I shrugged. "I haven't had time to experiment yet," I told her. "But it's something I'm going to do the first chance I get. First though I'm going to guilt trip Grams into giving us at three more easy spells."

Bonnie sobered and her pillow thudded softly on the ground. "Grams knows about all this," she said and she snorted. "It's hard to imagine. I thought the whole witch thing she does is all an act. Conforming to the stereotype of being an Occult Professor."

"Refuge in audacity," I said.

"Right, I forget that really works. When do you think she'll begin teaching us? I'm excited all of a sudden. Learning about our family, our history."

I groaned. "History. I have no love for the subject."

Bonnie mussed the short buzz I called hair, giving me a pity pout. "Poor baby."

"Shut up. What did you tell Elena? Please don't tell me you said I freaked out and almost crashed."

"No," said Bonnie. "No, no. Cars are still something of a sore subject with her. I didn't need to worry her. Instead I told her you freaked out enough about school that you convinced dad to let us take the day off."

"Good enough lie, but it's sort of necessity that we'll have to get better. Unless you're thinking about telling Elena and Caroline about this?"

"Will you tell Jeremy?" she asked.

Right, I was friends with Jeremy Gilbert. The weedy guy who had turned to drugs lately to deal with lose. Our relationship had been becoming tenuous lately, the facsimile was much like me in that it didn't understand and rightly feared addiction, but if I remembered correctly finding out about the supernatural world had given him purpose.

"I think I will. That whole keeping secrets thing is a real cliché. Grams can take away any memories that might arise if he tried to blackmail me anyway." The look on Bonnie was one of disconcertion, it took me a moment before the memories were stirred up and I remembered that this was out of character for me. Different experiences had shaped the facsimile in a way I couldn't recognise as being me. It either meant I would have to act the part—which was bad considering I don't remember ever being a good actor—or just blame it all on the fact that I had been bewitched.

The latter option was easier but it would mean Grams and Dad would be guiltier while the latter would be a personal inconvenience. I was heavily considering the second option because I kept thinking that they deserved to feel guilty. Strange that I was thinking about my family in such a cold manner, but I knew myself enough to know I was truly a vengeful creature at heart and direct confrontations weren't my thing. This would be my way of getting back at them.

"How about a movie?" said Bonnie, breaking the silence. "Watching those Harry Potter movies you love will have a whole other level of fun now," she said with a large grin.

She was right.

"Let's do it."

A day and night spent watching television. Grams didn't come that day much to my chagrin. I internally fumed but that was lost because of its futility. Bonnie with the power of the curse, of course to her it was almost like telekinesis; an unspoken extension of her will. Which was the reason it was the only logical conclusion that we started on our grimoires

"Is this really safe?" Bonnie asked after a trip to the store and two leather-bound journals in front. "They're just books. Nothing is keeping anyone else from just opening and reading them."

"I'm sure there should be a spell to fix that," I said.

Bonnie snorted. "Is that going to be what you say for everything? There's a spell out there for it?"

I shrugged, already jotting down what I knew about the spell of Motion. "In most cases it's always true. All we have to figure out is if we have the power to pull it off."

Questions upon question jotted down about the drain of magic, the magical core and magical exhaustion. I already knew about fuel sources: blood from the doppelgangers, rare events, the spirits and Nature itself. Coming up with a plausible excuse for such knowledge however was something I couldn't conjure up which meant I had rely on my core, something that was a mystery to me.

Then there was the more passive abilities granted to a witch; the clairvoyance and nonverbal magic that Bonnie found easy on an instinctual level; why was that and how could I get it without having to go the Expression route (side note: How do I access the power of Expression?).

I toyed with penning the memories of what I remembered of the television show, but Bonnie's words resonated. Already I was risking something with what I'd already written down and this was only a book with nothing in the way of magical protection. But I feared forgetting it all; forgetting the cheats that would make my life harder.

From this point on it was a waiting game.

The next morning was both dull and incessant. The breaking of the spell had made me miss school but there was no longer any reason to. Bonnie didn't let me drive on the trip to Elena's place to pick her and Jeremy up. A few greetings later and the girls up front descended into girl talk.

"We should really consider getting our own cars," I said to Jeremy, pulling out his headphones in the same instance. "Stop brooding. It's getting old. I need you to keep my mind away from their chatter."

Jeremy groaned, sparring me a dead look before turning to the window.

"Come on. Talk to me. How was the first day of school? I've got this massive occurrence to tell you about and you brooding will make this take longer. Jeremy. Jer…Come guy, speak to me."

Surprisingly after a goodnight's sleep the memories were fitting in well into my mind. Everything was starting to fit into place, the facsimile's life going along the lines I thought my life would have gone and every decision the one I think I would have made did I not have future knowledge. I didn't need to act. I just needed to be.

"Dude, you're being annoying."

"You speak," I said brightening. "Now, speak a little more. I asked questions."

"School was and will always be, school. Boring and tedious as hell."

"I don't think hell would be boring," I mused aloud. "Not exciting exactly, but not boring. All those flames and or torture."

He snorted. "What's up happened yesterday? I was late because of you. Had to hear some damned speech about, 'that behaviour will no longer be acceptable.' Our teachers are douches."

"Two more years, brother. Then we're off to college. Living the carefree life of slacking off."

"Three more years," Jeremy corrected. "At least in my case. While you're living it up. I'll be slaving in history."

"Poor baby," I said giving a pout. "You'll live."

The rhythm I remembered shot off at that point. I stretched it out as long as I could before we had to separate for class. That was when the boredom set in: The memories of my previous were almost non-existent except for indecipherable and vague feelings; even through all this though, the strongest feeling I got was from my schooling days.

I had loathed it then and I loathed it even more now with the knowledge that I had done this before. I had gone through the schooling process and managed a year of college before—I hit a blank. I couldn't reach in too much without inevitably hitting that wall.

I let go of all those thoughts and instead focused on the day. Moving from class to class, having the odd conversation before I stopped, my heart pounding at the sight of him: Tall with dark hair, a brooding expression and a look of adoration pointed at Elena.

Stefan Salvatore.

It was already beginning.

Panic seized me. This was happening too soon, at least from my perspective. I only knew two spells, one of which was useful in an actual fight against a vampire, and even they needed a lot of focus for me to cast, not to mention that I was a little confused at how events would play out.

Caroline would die at some point; Grams would die at some point; at another point Jeremy would die; so many things would happened and though I knew they would I didn't know when. I couldn't plan thoroughly and to avoid the many deaths that would occur.

It hit me how very weak I was.

"I know right." I started, whirling around to meet Bonnie and Caroline who took were looking at Stefan and Elena. It had been Caroline to speak. "Talk about eye candy."

Bonnie hummed in agreement and it would have been a lie on my part to disagree.

"Who is he?" I asked, remembering there was no way I could no him.

"Stefan Salvatore," Caroline said. "New in town, obviously, and he lives in the Salvatore Boarding House with his uncle."

"How do you even know that?" Bonnie asked, surprised. "Never mind," she said with a shake of the head, interrupting what was going to be a chilling account of a man's life.

I had watched Stefan through a third person perspective—creepy thought, especially since there was the possibility that I too might be being watched by the eyes of bystander, I quickly pushed it aside—but I knew the knowledge I'd had would be nothing on what Caroline could dig up. But then again she was known by the entire school for being intense, what could I really expect?

"Talking about him is not the reason I tracked you down," Bonnie continued.

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking we visit Grams after school," she said. "It's all well and good to wait but we need to be proactive about this."

"About what?" Caroline asked looking between us.

"It's nothing," I said. "Family stuff that would make me think of snuffing out my dear sister for saying them out loud where any manner of riffraff might hear."

Bonnie snorted. "You love me too much for you to even consider that. We should get to class," she said to Caroline. "See you later?"

A quick nod and my eyes returned towards where Stefan had been. He was gone, but the feeling of panic still hadn't abated. Rationally I knew he wouldn't kill me, especially if he heard my surname, but I also knew that it all started with him being in Mystic Falls. I couldn't pay attention in the next class, my thoughts trying to reach into the blankness that was forgetting.

It finally hit me. Damon. He had been unstable at the beginning of it all and his relationship with his brother had always been somewhat perverted and twisted. Stefan being here would bring the older Salvatore here, and as intense as he had been, Damon wouldn't have any qualms about killing.

Note to self: Check the news for any killings or missing persons. What was the oft used cover story? Animal attacks.

If it was Damon, then there would already be killings.

I shuddered. Everything was beginning at this point and pretty soon everyone would be involved, my sister and me included. I would need to be stronger, more powerful.

I truly hoped Grams wasn't in the mood for history lessons.