Ok ok, I know I haven't updated anything in ages. For this I completely apologise, as I also do for the shocking brevity of this chapter. It isn't in anyway complete, but is an attempt to show that I haven't given up on this fic. I have had no time to do anything, practice my bass, read other people's fics, anything. I've just been working. So bare in mind this isn't me at my best. Try and enjoy, there's some plot development here at least…

Agnes, her round, concerned, comforting face unmarred by recognition or fear.

Vlad sat up, immediately Agnes and the wimpy one rushed to get him water…

Christ he could murder a cup of tea…

Two hours later, and proceedings had taken a rather surreal turn. Vlad was perched on a chair at the far end of the long table in Nanny Ogg's cottage. He had been like this for the past half an hour, and cramp was starting to set in; Vlad was too scared to move, his chair was also occupied by a large framed photo of Sean Ogg and family, grinning, it seemed to him, in a menacing type way outside a cheese factory in Quirm. One movement too many would be enough to send the picture flying, shattering along with it any hope of getting these mad old bats to help him.

Vlad gazed disconsolately over the table, where, partially obscured by nodding cows, souvenir vases and humorously shaped candleholders, the stern face of Granny Weatherwax could be made out.

'So' she demanded for perhaps the tenth time in the conversation, 'why do you think WE should help you? After all, you say you're human, or human shaped, but you say, you don't remember who or WHAT you were previously. That could be dangerous for us. And do stop looking at my cup of tea like that. What harm has it ever done you?'

'Maybe he'd like a cup, Esme.' Ventured Nanny, who was sitting a little way behind Granny, absently tickling that revolting collection of scars on its stomach.

'I h'aint about to offer no tea to a magpie, Gytha. It's unnatural.'

Vlad's heart sank.

Agnes spoke up next;

'are you sure you cant remember what you were? I mean, it would help enormously from the spell point of view. And we've had such horrible experiences with vampires before…'

'Now Agnes, lets not go around throwing out random accusations. Its very unlikely he's a vampire, they can't get in uninvited you know!' It was Magrat who had said this, in a very 'mother knows best' fashion.

'I know that! But Perdita says…'

'I don't care what Perdita says! It is unfair to accuse such an affable…um…magpie…on sight!'

Vlad was confused. Who was Perdita? Was there a FIFTH witch? His eyes widened in beady horror. And he flicked his head round quickly, as only birds can do, to survey the room they were in.

It was Nanny who resolved the situation.

'Oh, don't worry about Perdita, its just Agnes's second personality. A most, ahem, interesting young woman. Agnes, do stop twitching like that!'

'I can't help it Nanny, Perdita's got my Right hand and... '

'Well make her stop. It's very anti-social, and I had to pay Mr Black an enormous amount to redocorate the last wall she wrote on.'

'I'm trying. PERDITA! STOP! Yes… I know…STOP! LET GO!…'

This apparently one-sided argument went on for several minutes; Vlad's heart had stopped beating. She knew.

Well. One side of her guessed anyway. And she appeared to be fighting it. He just hoped she was stronger than she looked…