The morning was a long way off as far as she was concerned, and it would only prove more helpful to lay still until she fell asleep. These were considered farmer hours; go to sleep at dusk and wake right at dawn, which had more common sense than anything. If only she was adjusted to it. She was in a way, often to wake in time for flight runs, but that was about it. Things were gruffer here, edgy but there was a beauty in it that she missed greatly back at her modern time period, where people appeared to become stupider by the day, with hardly much context at all. No one ever had the decency, the common sense, to treat someone with kindness. What happened today, truly felt magical to her, as if she were back at her late grandmother's. The couple just… took her in. Just like that!

Back home, the only joy she would have was flying, which would take her mind off the world for a while. Her mind would get lost to the music and the air flowing through her feathers. Working as a performer, they would do her up all pretty in a jumpsuit that held the same color scheme as her feathers, so it would look more swift when she transformed in front of the audience. This was how she met Lyra, who had just become a legend, along with her surrogate father, who both had vanquished one of Darkest wizards to date. Thus saving the entire wizarding race, as a whole. Both of whom had observed the performance and were enraged by the audacity of masking the cruelty many suffered behind the scenes…

It was only a matter of time for someone to finally come, and Lyra's surrogate, Orpheus Prince, had ordered the operation to be shut down or else blackmail would be involved… However, this led to Anya to be sent into the custody of the Ministry… However, being friends of the Princes opened this door… on the day there was mention of a force going back to mess things up, in order to bring back Riddle. It all began with an ancester who voiced peace to the entire world under a regime that almost succeeded in ruining their current timetable. The voice of a halfblood Peverell, the last forefather leading to Lyra's natural birth. If thwarted, killing off this ancester would change the prophecy of the Dark Lord's downfall by completely turning the tables.

This voice created this precious Prophecy, having enchanted the regime to transform before World War II, and had inspired hidden magical blood to soon come out of hiding.

This is the war this Peverell had fought and survived, able to birth Lyra's grandmother, Isabeau. This was what the decoy named Mulciber the Second, had tried to ensure before being dealt with by several agents, who stayed hidden by the Peverell's stolen identity by use of potions. In hopes this would get the Peverell murdered, this also made possible for him snuck inside the regime, in the nick of time.

A single voice, laced with magic through inflamed passion, set the world free… with no wand necessary, the emotion was so strong… The Peverells had a natural talent of elevating beauty and love within others, by touch or by voice… Just like Ignotus who was the wielder of the Elder Wand, who protected it. An ancient wand that held the power of life and death, ironically related to the name Elden, her great great grandfather's last name.

Still, others were aiming to ruin all this, to bring about a horrid result meaning Lyra's life to never be concieved.

This was all in a record in the Ministry and what was strange is that Lyra Prince discovered that Charlot Elden had an unnamed surrogate daughter after the fact, prior to her grandmother ever being born. Prince mentioned that a time traveler had stayed in that time period. It seemed that this family line had a habit of adopting lost souls, dating far back. It was a sweet thing to consider.

Shelly searched around for the safest route down to another window. Once she hopped down, she found the window that belonged to the Barber, on one upper level. By ear, she slowly realized before passing the sill that something was amiss… A sorrowful sound led her to quietly peek her head through the curtain to find a room of simplicity. A drawer sat ahead of her, a stair to the left of her and a table with a wash basin and jug sat next to this bed where a sleeping Barber remained. However, it sounded as though he was sobbing, in his sleep…

Worried, she quietly hopped in, feeling that this was a nightmare. Approaching him, she could make out in the dark that he was curling. This poor little man tried to hide further in the bed but it was no longer possible. Pressing against the thin pillow, he seemed to try bury his face in his folded arm, apparently weeping, nearly silent…

As a cat, there was only two things she could do. One was to leave… the second, to be alone in the midst of a nightmare was horrible… Memories were stifled beneath this Confundus but they were there still. They may be trying to leak out, despite that. Shelly softly came toward him and lightly hopped up the the corner of the bed. Close now, along his tensed shoulder, she took a soft paw and delicatedly placed it there, in an effort to let him know that he wasn't alone. He generally sighed… his snivelling came to a calm stop, but he didn't lax at all. Shelly curled and loafed, staying against the wall and silently observed the poor Barber, as his dreams seemed to soften…

'God, this is going to be harder than I thought…' Shelly thought to herself. 'Anya was right, the spell isn't that strong. He'll remember soon, at this rate. They all will… Man, if you're crying, sir, than it will seem that there's no hope at all… Hope is all we have…'

Nights were often hard, even at the best of times…yet morning mercifully came. That little heart to heart was unknown to the Ghetto, let alone the Barber's furry comforter had vanished in the night, leaving no traces. Anya spent most of the evening before trying to figure out what to say… However, she was not the only one whose mind was plagued…

There was the vision of an old cottage, a woman was screaming for mercy. The cry of a babe, and the fierce, green flash of the Death Curse~ She was walking through the hall as thunder rolled… followed by a feeling of dread. The crying became louder, ever so… before, that flash. The one that always haunted Lyra, appeared to be haunting here. It was meant to haunt him.

It was all fragmented and surreal, but it left Anya scared… She awoke right as Mary had entered to bring tea for the two. Her look of concern caught Anya's attention as she sat on the bed, pale.

"What ever is the matter, child? You are as pale as a ghost…" Mary observed, as Hannah came to Anya.

"What happened?"

"Nightmare." Anya spoke very little. She was given a towel to wipe the sweat off her head, but she mainly wiped her eyes. "A very bad one…" she continued, being given a fragile cup of tea.

There was the idea of using this… as a means to stay, but it was so very hard. Leaving here was a bad idea.

"Where is Mr. Charlot?" Anya asked.

"Tending to his shop. Why?"

"I-I, um… It is only that~ I don't think you two should come with me…" Anya got right to it, not wanting to ramble.

"Oh, don't be silly… To let you go alone~ it is abandonment. Charlot would not hear of it!"

"Then, I'm staying." Anya decided, firmly. "I just dreamt… of both of you — I can't say it!" she choked up, prompting a hug from both women.

"What in the blazes is going on?" Mr. Jeakel entered, obviously startled by them comforting an apparently emotional teenager…

"She is in hysterics, quick, Mr. Jeakel —"

"Where is Charlot?" Anya begged. "Please!"

"He is below, what is the meaning of this?" "Please, I need to see him, please!" Anya made no room for argument.

"Jeakel, bring Charlot here~ She has just suffered a nightmare…" Hannah explained, as best she could and the elder wasted no time.

The Barber shop was barely opened, but Charlot intended to unlock the front door as soon as he got the floor was swept up as something to keep busy with until Anya was ready to leave. Again, he awoke feeling strange… as if disconnected after an awful nightmare. At first it was all so subtle, beneath the shadow of a storm, he followed a scream. Horribly, he came to a scene where a child laid in her pram, crying so intensely it sounded as though she was burnt. It did not matter how hard he tried to find her, she was no where to be seen. Her cries hurt his ears as if she was directly in front of him~ before there came an omninous presence accompanying that strained voice.

A flash of green, with the strength and power of a grenade struck his eyes so hard that it hurt~!

He finally awoke, finding that his cheeks were moist from him weeping during it. Often, he'd wake from nightmares, either with a startle or the sorrow of having one without remembering any of it, but this felt so vivid… as though he was truly there, with her. All this was on his heart and mind as he got his smock on. Right then, Mr. Jeakel came through the court door, startling him and the hidden feline watching.

"Oh! Good, you're here~"

"Mr. Jeakel?"

"Come with me ~ Anya awoke from a night terror… She requests to see you!"

"M-me? What's happened?" Charlot's voice was littered with worry and wasted no time in following.

Shelly growled under her breath, worried.

"Frightened beyond reason, she refuses to leave the Ghetto now…" Jeakel explained as they both scaled the staircase, quickly until they were met with the three women… Anya's eyes lit up upon seeing Charlot come in with Jeakel.

Anya found her hand being taken, trying to avoid seeing the panic on their faces. Anya grasped Charlot's arm as he came to her side. It shocked him when she embraced him as if it were the first and last time… Hannah was confused, if not visibly upset… Mary paced, just as upset.

"You're all right!" she breathed, in relief, trying to sound truly distressed.

"O-of-of course I am, I—" Charlot stammered, trying to look her in the eye but she tightened her arms around his neck. "What is it?"

"It felt so real… I just needed to see you…" Anya spoke in a shaken voice. "I'm so glad it wasn't true…"

Charlot furrowed, rubbing her back as his thoughts fell to his own nightmare, following those strange disconnected days. She seemed to have been suffering the same… He willed himself to look at Hannah for a moment before whispering to the poor girl…

"Tell me…"

Hearing that, Mary Jeakel found it important to leave the three to speak. Something was beyond amiss, but in this heat of it, it was best to not rouse more upset than there was now. Quietly, Anya heard the door shut, softly. Anya felt a true tear leave her eye…

"You wouldn't believe me…" she sighed, depressingly. That was true to her, really.

The cat lingered outside, finding a spot to hide behind an ale barrell, listening. Shelly swore that this was no pretend get up by Anya, using a nightmare as a ruse, however, Charlot had one also… If that was so bluntly obvious, it only proved Charlot's natural magical ability, enhance physical beauty to even sharing dreams… There were not only two magical bloods in this Ghetto, but three. Meanwhile, Anya contemplated during this moment of silence before Charlot spoke…

"Try me," he told her, encouragingly. "If you've known where I've been, you'd be surprised of all the stories I've been told~"

Anya smiled, mustering the courage to look at the couple. Formulating a story, she could not outright lie, but laced with some fabrication, using their closeness to her without malice, of course, to render them to stay where it was safe. Anya drank more of the tea to keep her mouth from drying out.

"Take your time, sweetheart…" Hannah whispered, dabbing Anya's eyes with a handkerchief.

"You're as safe as can be," Charlot said, giving her hand a squeeze.

Anya's heart welled up, feeling all this love all of a sudden. She couldn't tell if it was magical or what~

"We were, w-well… You were both with me, as planned today… walking with me to the caravan. It seemed like normal. But… not long after we left through the gate~ erm…" Anya sniffled, no doubt feeling Charlot hold her hand closer. Their eyes were anxiously locked on hers as she began her telling.

"A-at once, when we left through the gate," she continued, carefully. "… it felt like there was a shadow following us along the path. We couldn't see it, but we could feel it there. We were on the road when I saw this… flash of light…" Anya quickly flashed her palm to emphasize. "A sickly green light, as if someone hit me…"

Charlot slowly paled as he listened. "…a-a light?"

Anya shook her head. "N-next thing I know, I look down… I see both of you, lying on the road. Neither of you ever move again."

Anya heart truly hurt because this was the intent of that Death Eater Shelly experienced, and she had seen that curse before. A tear fell down her cheek as she bit down on her lips to keep it together. She believed they were to think her mad… Fabricated for the most part, but the truth of that light… it was a very real threat.

"Anya…" Charlot's voice prompting her to look into his eyes.

"You must think me insane~" she shook her head again.

"Perish the thought ~" Charlot sounded a bit breathless.

Anya brushed some of her own hair back, with a shaken breath, she managed a sorrowful sort of smile. Her cheeks were dabbed at again. "…thank you."

Hannah exchanged glances with Charlot who was in some deep thoughts before Hannah brought forward a frightful question. "What of the whereabouts of your friend? Are they not with their own…?"

"I was to meet with her." Anya sighed. "…but no, I… Right now, I don't know. I feel it's best to stay where I am. I'll make do~"

Charlot held a bolder look in his eyes in disagreement. "You silly girl, no. You are under our care, until you are abled."

Anya shut her eyes seeing that it was just as she predicted. If she even left the Ghetto to stay elsewhere, he would try to stay close. She wasn't sure that was a good thing or not.

"I cannot burden you further…"

"Oh, do not flatter yourself." Hannah tapped the top of her hand, not taking well to this depressive streak. "During such times, we keep a chin up around here. Don't we, Charlot?"

Charlot seemed very distant for a second. " … I —" was all he could choke out. Nervously and worriedly swiping his forehead, which caught both women's concern. Before Anya could press further, there was that worried knock at the door.

Perhaps the old couple could not be held back for very long and the door opened… The trio looked over and they appeared frazzled to the old couple before a reign of silence fell between them all. After a blink or two, there was finally a word, after all this private murmuring in their lodgings…

"She's staying," Charlot airily said, much to Anya's relief.

"It took you that long to come to that?" Mr. Jeakel asked.

"It's complicated…" poor Charlot slowly stated, keeping his eyes up at the couple.