Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries/The Originals or any quotes used/borrowed.

Notes: I am incredibly sorry for the extreme lateness of this chapter. Initially, my interest in the show had dwindled, but just as it rose again, my computer stopped working. I've just gotten it back with a repaired graphics chip, so I am good to go! Also, I've saved all of my material in alternate places so if it breaks again, I'll still have my outlines and such.

Thanks for being patient and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Warnings: A lot of this chapter is exposition. I'm sorry!

i knew you were trouble when you walked in

"If you want more of this
we can push out, sell out, die out
so you'll shut up and stay sleeping
with my screaming in your itching ears."

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Stephanie's raged licked her insides and heat broiled in the pit of her belly as she strode up the battered pavement leading to Sophie Deveroux's restaurant. Her converse sneakers smacked loudly against the ground, in tandem with her faster-than-normal heartbeat. Sweat caused by the sweltering sun and clinging humidity, gathered at her brow and the back of her neck. Stephanie had been receiving stares as she'd made her way through the quarter, on account of the vicious curl of her lips and the dark look in her intense eyes; they continued to watch her progress to the front door of the restaurant.

Stephanie's phone vibrated.

Clad in a soft summer dress that just concealed the growing bump on her belly, Stephanie strode through the entrance of Sophie Devereoux's restaurant, kicking the door in. It swung back and ricocheted off of the stone wall behind it with enough force to shake the glasses on the shelves and slammed shut behind her. Sophie, carrying a large cardboard box of miscellaneous glasses and tableware, looked up and flinched.

The witch had looked up at the noise and her lips formed a soft 'o.' "Stephanie."

"I think it's time we had a talk," Stephanie snapped. Her slim fingers darted back and turned the sign in the window from OPEN to CLOSED. "Now."

Sophie licked her lips and slowly set the box down onto one of the tables. She took a step forward and brought her hands around to her front, palms up in a sign of submission. "Listen, Stephanie –"

"You had a deal with Klaus," Stephanie reminded Sophie sharply. "He's taking down Marcel – dissembling his army of vampires – and you're helping us protect this baby; that was the deal. While Klaus was handling his end, you took me to your one of your witch friends where she tried to kill my child." Her lip curled. Fierce, protective anger was roaring in her belly.

Sophie jerked her hands back and pointed them at her chest. "I had nothing to do with it, I swear. You and I are linked, remember? Anything bad happens to you, happens to me."

Stephanie pressed her lips together and pretended to consider Sophie's statement while a wave of relief hit her at the same time; the witches didn't know the spell had been lifted yet. "Then who exactly was that?"

"Agnes is a part of a group of extremists," Sophie quickly explained. "Sabine isn't, she was just there because I asked her. She had that vision about the baby and Agnes flipped out and called the members of her group to eliminate the threat."

"Just how extreme is this faction?" Stephanie asked. "Elijah's talking to Davina, trying to get her onto our side."

Sophie straightened and her eyes widened. "Elijah's talking to Davina?" She repeated. She ran a nervous hand through her hair and then heaved a long sigh that spoke louder than words. "She'll certainly have a lot to say about Agnes' crowd."

"Like what?" Stephanie leaned forward. "I need to know what we're dealing with, Sophie." I need to know how to protect my son.

"I . . . wasn't always an advocate for the witches," Sophie started hesitantly. "My sister was devoted to the craft, just like our parents had brought us up to do. You have to understand, they were incredibly strict and it drove me crazy. I left the Quarter to travel . . ." Sophie rolled her lips together as she considered her words, "and to play. But I wanted to be a chef, so I came back here. The day I came back, my sister found me with some friends and said that the elders had decided to go through with the Harvest."

Stephanie's brows bunched together and she crossed her arms over her chest. "What is that?"

"A ritual that my coven performs every three centuries to maintain the bond to our ancestral magic. We appease our ancestors and they keep the magic flowing through us and the city." Sophie shrugged a little. "Really, our elders just want more power to fight off the vampires in the city."

"What does this 'Harvest' involve?" Stephanie walked around the table so that she was directly facing the witch.

Sophie winced. "That's where it goes downhill. It involves young witch sacrifices."

Stephanie scowled. "That's revolting."

Sophie licked her lips. "I thought so too. They had the girls in our community begin preparing months in advance. They said that it was an honor, that they were special. Honestly, I thought it was a myth."

"Was it?" Steph's voice was sharp, cold.

"It seems so," the witch replied, "especially considering that none of the witches came back to life like they were supposed to after they died."

"After they were murdered," Stephanie corrected. Sophie's head bowed.

"After they were murdered," the witch conceded. "Of course, there's always the possibility that the girls won't be resurrected until they're all dead . . . which would include Davina."

Stephanie rolled her lips and turned her back on the witch. She had to concede that Sophie had had nothing to do with Agnes' plot the previous evening. In the front pocket of her dress, her phone vibrated again, this time indicating a voicemail message. Stephanie turned back to Sophie to find that the witch hadn't moved an inch.

"Thank you for speaking with me. I'm sorry about the confusion . . . and about Davina. Maybe Elijah will be able to help her."

Sophie snorted and turned back to her box. "Yeah, right."

Stephanie slipped out the door of the restaurant and slipped her phone out of her pocket. The screen flashed, telling her she had one new message from Caroline Forbes. As she walked down the street, she lifted the phone to her ear and listened.

And the more she listened, the more she realized that there was something seriously wrong with Whitmore College.

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Elijah watched the girl sketch on her canvas. Charcoal, he noted absently, seemed to be preferred medium. She was a pretty girl, but also intelligent and quick-witted; a good potential ally. From the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of a violin. It was in poor condition, broken. With deft, gentle fingers, he picked it up and cradled the instrument in his hands.

Elijah cleared his throat, causing Davina's head to swivel around. "Do you play?"

She rolled her lips together. "It's not mine." He accepted her answer with a nod of his head, and found a seat at one of the lonely wooden chairs in the church attic. Elijah lifted the violin to his chin to inspect it, for he'd learned a very long time ago to play and care for them, but a noise started both the witch and the original. Davina shot him a significant look and Elijah placed the violin down and flashed to stand behind the door, quiet and stoic.

Marcel bounced into the attic. "Hey D, guess what? I'm moving you out of this dusty place." He gave her a luminous grin that Davina eagerly returned.

"Really, when?" She nearly squealed in her delight, making Elijah wince at the pitch.

"Tonight, but I gotta get some things in order first." Marcel ambled over to the coffin and his grin turned into a leer. "How's our original doing?" He moved to open up Elijah's 'final' resting place, but Davina interceded.

"Don't disturb the body; I have the spell in progress."

Marcel backed up and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I bet you do. Listen, D; pack up only the essentials, okay? I'll buy you anything you need. I'll be back tonight." He slipped out the attic door, shutting it behind him and it revealed Elijah once more.

Curious, he stepped away from his spot next to the wall. "You didn't tell him I was awake," he observed.

Davina shot him a coy glance. "We're not done talking yet." She returned to her canvas and settled in a stool in front of it. Elijah followed her, picking the violin up again as he went. "Marcel is my family," Davina said quietly.

"And yet he delights in terrorizing the witches." Elijah put a hand to rest onto the canvas. "Witches, who, as I understand, are your blood family. You're okay with this?"

"Yes," Davina said simply. "They deserve it."

Elijah tilted his head, intrigued and surprised. "Why would you say that?"

"They're liars. They made me and my friends do this Harvest ritual." She grimaced. "They said our participation would bring health and strength to our coven, that we would forever be celebrated as saviors. But all they really wanted was more power. So I left before they could get it. And now they're running out of time and getting desperate. Because after the Harvest is the reaping, and if there isn't a Harvest, there won't be a reaping; then they would lose their power and eventually cease to be witches all together."

Elijah's eyes narrowed. "What does this ritual require to be finished?"

"I have to die."

"Would you mind enlightening me? What do you mean?" Elijah sat carefully still in the wooden chair, gently tuning the violin in his hands. He began tweaking it, slender fingers sliding in and out of the instrument, repairing it. Davina was standing with her back turned to him, fingers playing with the creases of her bed spread.

"That's what the Harvest was." She lifted her head and looked at him with cool eyes. "They said that the four girls chosen would be in this state of peaceful limbo, reawaken, and then be reborn. Since I didn't die, the Harvest wasn't completed. If I don't die son, it's over."

"And then what?" He lowered the violin to his lap.

"They're punished and I'm free." Davina smiled, showing off blindingly white teeth.

"From Marcel?" Elijah asked.

"From magic; all of our power will drain away and I'll be normal." Her gaze was a little distant, presumably caught up in her fantasy.

"Is that what you want?"

"I just don't want to be what I am. I can't control it sometimes. The magic. I . . . hurt people. Even when I don't mean to." Davina's face crumpled at the mere thought, or perhaps of a memory of hurting someone close to her.

Elijah made sure his voice was soft and reassuring. "Can you tell me about your friends? You must miss them."

"There's Tim; he doesn't know anything about this witch stuff because he's normal. That's his violin, actually. He's a wonderful player." Davina smiled a little sadly. "There's also my best friend, Monica; she was a part of the Harvest too. She was lucky, you know? No one ever fought for me, but her Aunt Sophie fought for her."

Elijah furrowed his brows. The witches' lives were intertwined in ways they hadn't even thought about.

"No one but Sophie even questioned it, not even my own mother. We just . . . accepted it." Davina clenched her hands into fists. "We were so stupid. We were fools, thinking we were special. They led us out like princesses on the night it happened and I remember my mother was so proud. One of the elders called upon the past magic to bind our magic together; earth to connect us to our ancestors, water to heal the community, wind to carry us to our ancestors and back, and fire to purify. We knew what to expect, or so we thought anyway. All that needed to be done was a little cut on our palms for the blood sacrifice. Only it wasn't just a cut to the hand, it was a severed neck with a butcher's knife."

"Everyone involved in the ritual knew this would happen?" Elijah was disgusted. Violence to children was so cruel and unnecessary.

"Everyone but the four of us. They weren't putting us to sleep, they were slaughtering us!"

"Yet you survived . . ."

"Yes. Marcel saved me. And he's been protecting me ever since." Davina sat onto her bed and smoothed out the bottom of her dress. "But that's not all." She met Elijah's gaze. "Every girl who died transferred her power to the girl next in line. When I received the power and didn't die, the magic didn't go back to the ancestors."

"So the Harvest was actually working?"

"Something was working," Davina corrected sharply. "But they lied to us about killing us, how was I supposed to believe them when they said we'd be resurrected? I just didn't want to die. So I let him save me."

They were silent for a few moments, until Elijah stood and extended the violin out to Davina. "I have restored it for you; it can now be returned to its rightful owner."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. She sounded choked up as she said, "I don't even know if I'll see him again." The attic began to shake and tremor; the wooden panels on the window flew off.

"Davina," Elijah said quietly, concerned, "this power is too much for you." The tremors stilled. "You need to learn how to control it." He looked at her intently. "That requires study and practice. My mother was a very powerful witch, you see, and she had a grimoire with all of the spells she had acquired and created. My brother has it. It contains all of the tools that could help you learn to control your magic. If you release me, I can give it to you. However, if you leave with Marcel today we'll never see each other again and I won't be able to help you."

"The witches manipulated me. You know how that ended."

"This isn't manipulation; this is an exchange of one thing for another. I'm offering you a deal."

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Kol saw her sitting at the bar with a bottle of something strong at her elbow that had been almost entirely drained. Her tumbler was curled in her right hand.

"Mind if I join you, darling? I'm feeling a little lonely."

Katie looked up with bloodshot eyes and waved a clumsy hand at the stool next to her. She hiccupped. "I never knew vampires could get drunk. Thierry never said."

"Yes, well, they like to keep some secrets from the witches, especially debilitating ones like this." Kol winked. He waved at the bottle. "Do you mind?" Katie shrugged and down the rest of her glass. The original snatched her glass and poured himself a bit. "Thanks."

She took another look at Kol and narrowed her eyes. "You lied to me," Katie accused.

"Whatever do you mean?" He smiled innocently.

"You said you were a witch, but I remember you compelling me now. You're a vampire." She drunkenly jabbed a finger into his chest. "You're Klaus' brother, an original." Katie hiccupped again.

"Yeah, well, it happens." He swished the amber liquid around his tumbler. "People lie all the time in this world, darling. Get used to it."

"I lost Thierry because of you," Katie hissed. She put a hand to Kol's shirt collar and dragged him down to her face. "You made me do it. If you hadn't, Thierry wouldn't be in the Garden right now, rotting."

Kol detangled himself from the baby vampire's grasp. "Come on, I'm sure it would have happened eventually. He probably would have wanted to turn you and I imagine that's probably against another one of Marcel's rules. Really, you should be pissed at him, not me."

"I am," Katie assured him as she snatched back her glass. She filled it to the brim. "I am." The new vampire turned away from him and continued drinking in silence.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry to have hurt you," Kol admitted. "I don't care for hurting witches."

"Yeah, well, you did." Katie slammed down the tumbler and stood, swaying on her feet. She staggered away toward the ladies restroom and Kol declined to follow. He pursed his lips and then ordered a drink.

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"Klaus, my man, what brings you to Auggie's today?"

Klaus offered Marcel a tight smile. "I heard you frequented this God awful bar and decided to lower my standards in order to visit with you." He walked to the bar and pulled out one of the squeaky stools to sit on.

"Don't be so harsh," Marcel harangued. "The people here at Auggie's are genuine. They like me, I like them . . . they give me information on the people that pass through the joint when my eyes are otherwise occupied." Klaus only hummed in response and ordered a scotch. He rested his fingers in a steeple on the bar and gave Marcel the side-eye. Marcel noticed.

"What'd you want to talk about? Did something happen?"

"A few things did happen, actually. One, you promised that you were going to return Elijah." Klaus gave Marcel a significant look. "Or has your young witch friend grown fond of his company?"

"You're pretty curious about Davina, aren't you?" Marcel knocked back his drink and sent Klaus a sly glance.

"She's an all-powerful sixteen year old witch that you've stashed in the church attic, Marcel. Of course I'm curious. By the way, Kol found her again. He says she's lovely."

Marcel scowled. "Nosiness runs your family. I still don't know how he found her in the first place, let alone for the second now. You wanna tell me?"

Klaus smiled. "Not particularly, considering you refuse to tell me much about your little witch."

"You're never going to get her, you know," Marcel taunted, spirits lightening suddenly. Klaus only hummed. "You said you had a couple of things on your mind. What else?" Klaus pulled a sour face; sometimes he felt like he and Marcel were on a seesaw. He went up, Marcel went down, Klaus went up, Marcel went down . . . and on and on.

"The witches went too far last night," Klaus muttered. "They tried to kill the baby." He'd been doing a bit of thinking. If the witches were going to reengage on their end of the deal and instead actively try and hurt the baby, and the spell was already lifted from Stephanie, then he wasn't going to be stifled by their rules anymore. He'd do this his way.

Marcel furrowed his brows. "You should've figured they'd try something sooner or later. Listen Klaus, the witches think they're big stuff here and they're willing to do some . . . questionable things to get what they want." He beckoned Klaus forward and hunched his shoulders. "I never told you how I met Davina. There's this ritual called the Harvest they've been trying to perform. It involves the sacrifice of these teenage girls. They killed all of them . . . except for one."

"I'm guessing the last girl was Davina?" Klaus rolled his lips.

"Yes. One of the other girls in the Harvest happened to be Sophie Derveroux's niece, a friend of Davina's. Sophie tried to stop it, even went to Father Kieran, the leader of the human faction here in the Quarter. He tried to help too, but one of their witches got revenge on him quickly enough; Sophie told me that they put a hex on his nephew that made the kid lose his mind, all in a bid to keep Kieran occupied. It worked too, obviously. The kid went postal, you know? He killed all of his seminary peers and then himself. Kieran was so messed up that he left before the Harvest even happened. He came to me first though, and told me to make sure it didn't happen. By the time I got there, only Davina was alive. So I took her, helped her. I felt like she and I were kindred spirits."

Fascinating. It would be more difficult to get Davina away than Klaus had initially thought. "What's the point of this little story?" He asked, pretending to be disinterested.

"The point is, Klaus, that these witches are crazy, and you better be prepared for them to come after your baby again, because I can guarantee that they'll try." He leant forward and lowered his voice. "Also, I wanted to make it perfectly clear that I care for Davina a whole lot and that what we have is complicated. I protect her from all possible threats, including you if necessary. You hear me?"

"I hear you, loud and clear." Klaus sipped his drink. Didn't mean he was going to listen.

"I'm heading out, alright? I've got some . . . business to attend to." Marcel tipped his head and slipped out of Auggie's before Klaus could protest. "I'll call you later."

The hybrid rolled his lips together. Then he got up and pushed in his own stool, following after his friend.

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"I just witnessed the most interesting thing."

"Oh?"

Klaus hummed and kissed the junction between Stephanie's shoulder and neck. "Marcel and his friend, Father Kieran, had a loud argument in the church about who exactly was the boss of the Quarter. We learned that sweet Cami, you remember sweet Cami, is the good Father's niece, twin brother to the boy who went crazy and killed a bunch of kids and then himself due to a witch's hex."

"That's fascinating. And I learned today that Sophie had nothing to do with our baby's attempted murder." Stephanie relaxed in Klaus' side as they sat together on their home's porch. In front of them, the large green yard sprawled on for what looked like forever in the dark.

"So I won't get to kill her?"

"Not tonight."

"Please refrain from murdering anyone else in the Quarter, brother. It's distasteful and tacky." Stephanie and Klaus lifted their heads up to look at Elijah strolling toward them, still dressed impeccably in his pristine suit. "Since we are all sharing our day's successes, I would like to tell you that I made a deal with Davina. She let me go and I will be loaning her Mother's grimoire."

"Have fun prying it from Kol's cold, dead fingers," Klaus called teasingly, in an attempt to get over his surprise at seeing his brother. "I was in the process of bargaining with Marcel to get you back, you know." It wouldn't do to let Elijah think Klaus had intended to leave him with their enemy.

"Of course you were." Elijah took a seat on Klaus' other side and placed his hands on his lap. "Do you happen to know of Kol's whereabouts this evening?"

Klaus and Steph exchanged glances. "Haven't seen him all day, actually . . . which, come to think of it, is suspicious," Klaus mused.

"No need to fret, darlings! I'm safe and sound. Though it nice to know that you missed me." Kol jumped down from the roof and landed in front of the trio, a smirk curled on his lips. "Elijah, brother, how nice to see you up and about again. Now all we need is for Klaus to undagger Rebekah and for Finn to grace us with his presence, and then we'll be a big, happy family again."

"Where have you been?" Steph asked dryly. "Out terrorizing innocents again?"

"Not today. I was just here and there." Kol shrugged and put his hands into his pockets.

"Well, Kol, where's the grimoire?" Elijah cut to the chase. "It's important that I hold up my end of the deal."

"Don't get your panties in a twist." Kol rolled his eyes. "I'll give it to you, but have one condition though."

"I'm the one who gave you the grimoire, remember," Elijah reminded him sardonically.

Kol ignored him. "I want it back when she's done. This is a loan. Considering I'm the last Mikaelson with any magic at all and it is a Mikaelson grimoire, I should have it. Besides, in a town like this, it's best to make sure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

"Deal." Elijah said. Kol saluted.

"I'll just fetch it from my room then, I suppose," Kol drawled. He disappeared into the house, with Elijah following close behind. Then it was just Klaus and Stephanie again.

Steph cleared her throat. "Everyone is Mystic Falls is getting suspicious." She turned her head. "Caroline left me a message about a friend of hers going missing and then showing up again as a vampire. He was turned by one of the professors at Whitmore College and that's not the only odd thing about it; she said he was craving vampire blood."

"Just like my father," Klaus breathed. He put his hands onto her shoulders. "What happened?"

"Jesse – her friend – attacked Caroline and was going to kill her. Something in Elena snapped and she turned her humanity back on. Then she killed Jesse to protect Care."

"What caused him to crave vampire blood?" Klaus demanded.

"The professor experimented on him," Stephanie explained, "or that's what Jesse told them, which they were inclined to believe. Elena confronted the Maxfield – the professor – and he threatened, told her to leave Whitmore."

"Bloody hell, I hate scientists."

"Obviously Elena didn't listen because she stubborn. I have a really bad feeling about this school, Klaus. I think I need to go and check it out soon. Then I could explain what's going on down here in person after we figure out what's going on."

Klaus grabbed her hand. "I'd rather you didn't involve yourself, but knowing you, you're going to anyway. Just . . . wait, love. See what happens first, and then go. If it turns out to be something big, I'd rather go with you or send Kol at least."

"I don't need a babysitter," Steph snapped.

"No, but clearly your friends do, or else they wouldn't need you to come up there and fix their messes," Klaus pointed out sharply.

"They're my friends and my family and I will always help them clean up their messes, Klaus," Steph replied, "and anyway, it's not like this is any of their faults."

"I apologize for breaking up your conversation," Elijah's voice rang out in the night air, starling them both, "but there is something else that we must discuss. It's important."

Steph and Klaus exchanged glances. "Later, then," She said to him. They rose together and went inside to find Kol and Elijah already seated in the living room.

"What's the emergency?" Klaus drawled as he settled into the loveseat next to Stephanie.

Elijah rose and faced them. "Everything Sophie told us was fabricated. The French Quarter, this war that's brewing . . . it's not over territories, it's over Davina. Sophie wants to complete the Harvest –"

"– in order to get her niece, Monica, back," Klaus finished. The others gave him surprised looks. "Marcel happened to open up about the Harvest today as well."

"So they've been manipulating you all this whole time."

"Eight months ago, Jane-Anne and Sophie lost everything," Elijah continued. "Because Marcel was guarding Davina, they needed someone powerful enough to overthrow him, which brought them to Klaus." "But how to get the original hybrid to cooperate?" Elijah asked rhetorically. "Take something that he values. And everyone knows about the hybrid and the ripper's torrid love affair. It was just a matter of semantics then."

"And what, they figured a child would seal the deal?" Stephanie's brows furrowed.

"Well, if you weren't enough leverage, the witches thought that Klaus had to have enough of a heart to care about his own flesh and blood child at the very least. We thought we'd come here to wager war for power. Instead, it's for family. Sophie will risk her life to kill Davina to bring back Monica, and that makes her the most dangerous of them all."

Kol stood. "So, who wants a drink?"

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tbc.