A/N: Plenty of OC characters so stay tuned. I also have to add that if you're not comfortable with queer characters or POC, you're seriously in the wrong fandom. My stories reflect that a lot. I will also like to remind y'all that this story is rated M for a reason. You can check out my other story, The Companion for more Klonnie goodness even though it's more of a slow burn compared to this. I apologize for how short this is but I'll try to increase the subsequent chapters.

Enjoy!

Dreams were never just dreams. It was witchcraft 101. Bonnie had learnt very little from her Grams about their magical heritage before her unfortunate death aiding the Salvatore's but she'd manage to drill that little factoid into her. You could never ignore your dreams. And when they're important, you'll know.

She'd woken up sweaty and alert the first night. She searched her memory frantically hoping to get more, to see more but it came up blank. She couldn't remember his face, name or what he looked like. It should have been an inconsequential thing brought about by something she'd seen on TV or outside during the day but it left her immensely uneasy.

Uneasy enough to leave the stylish bedroom she was still adjusting to as hers and wandered out into the garden until the sun came out and enveloped her with its rays. Cordelia, her benefactor, found her there tending to the herbs she'd planted just a few weeks before. The woman bemusedly told her only pupil that breakfast would soon be served.

So there they were at the breakfast table enjoying toast with fresh jam, croissants, parfait and chicory tea. She'd never eaten as well all her life as when she moved in with Cordelia. The woman didn't cook much but her house keeper Bernard must have had hands sculpted by the deities of cuisine themselves. If it weren't for the frequent dancing she did to burn off calves, a year in New Orleans might have turned her into the ballooned version of herself.

"I can't seem to remember his face or even a general idea of what he looks like," Bonnie explained sipping her chicory tea. There were many times she'd craved actual coffee but she couldn't bear to disappoint Bernard who grew the plant himself and was always so happy to make it.

Cordelia regarded her with the calm regality she possessed. Bonnie subconsciously squirmed a little. It had been a year yet she was still intimidated by the woman. First by her power; though she had not met many witches in her short life, she knew Cordelia Vasquez was powerful by far. She didn't have a coven of her own yet many of the witches still bowed lowly when they passed by her in the streets. Only elders were given such respect.

Secondly, the woman had grace and poise of Grace Kelly, Princess Di and Jackie Kennedy all put together. Her brown long hair was always in an elegant curl that never seemed to scatter no matter what she did. She was gorgeous in a way that always made Bonnie want to curl in a corner with nothing but a potato sack on her head. Full pink lips, striking grey eyes and a perfect eight figure. The first day they met Bonnie had been sure the woman was on her way to meet the royal family but got lost in Mystic Falls.

There was surely no way she'd been looking for little Bonnie Bennett with her loose Whitmore sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants.

"But you say the eyes are golden?" Cordelia inquired, placing a hand under her chin.

"Yeah that's all that's been clear to me," She confirmed.

Cordelia hummed, "That's….curious."

"Is it a bad thing?" Bonnie didn't want to feel panic but she couldn't help it. Her life had been going wonderfully so far and she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Leaving Mystic Falls had been the best thing for her even if she missed Caroline and Matt terribly. Elena was missed but she hadn't exactly had anything nice to say about Bonnie's departure so feelings were a bit cool for the time being. She had her boyfriend Stefan to keep her company and his annoying brother Damon.

"No dear, nothing like that," Cordelia assured. "It's just that eyes like that are unique in our world. There's only a few who possess such, a small group I would say. But bright and gold in particular belongs to one. I'm not sure what it means yet."

"Who does it belong to?" Bonnie played with a piece of toast. "One of the witches of the Quarter?"

The woman smiled instantly abating her fears. She had a way of doing that, "Not even close my dear. Tell you what; I have some research to do. You go to the garden and prepare a few potions for practice. Don't consult your book of shadows, I'll know if you do," Cordelia added with a wink.

Bonnie nodded standing up from the table, "I will. Thank you again."

"Oh you should be used to all of this by now. You have nothing to thank me for, it is my duty," Cordelia patted her hand.

Still, she wasn't used to unsolicited kindness like this. Not after the only person who had loved her unconditionally had died a few years prior. She made her way to the large bountiful garden dutifully grabbing some gardening gloves along the way.

Breeze tickled her face and bare shoulders as if to welcome her outdoors. The garden was just behind the house where all manners of herbs and flowers grew wildly. Kneeling on the dirt and sinking her fingers sent the familiar tingles through her fingers that made her smile. It felt good to feel the magic on her fingertips. It was a mystery how she'd managed to go seventeen years without getting it.

Cordelia was a master at potion making and her garden reflected it. Rows and rows of flowers and roots covered the entire back yard. There was a greenhouse for the special plants that needed specific amounts of light or temperature to grow.

The house itself was a large antebellum style mansion with Corinth columns and a large metal gate. They lived in the garden district, close enough to the French Quarter but no witches seemed to wander their way.

Despite the respect she'd observed for Cordelia, she noticed that most of them went out of their way to avoid her and by extension Bonnie.

She asked Cordelia about it. "The witches of New Orleans practice a different source of witchcraft than we do. It makes them beholden to certain rules and practices that don't always make sense."

She explained that they practiced earth magic; the source of their power was the earth and nature itself. They tapped directly into it. There was also spirit magic which came from the spirits of witches dead past. Cordelia was not a big fan of them since she said they tended to manipulate witches to do their bidding most times rather than actually keep the balance, according to her. The witches of the French Quarter and all of New Orleans practiced Ancestral magic. They got their power directly from their ancestors and could only access it within the city. If they ever left their link to their magic was weakened and perhaps even cut off.

Bonnie plucked some lavender and curry leaves into her satchel. Her fingers brushed against a gorgeous yellow lily feeling its soft petals against her fingertips. She was reminded once again of her dream. It had been a week yet she was no closer to finding answers. Cordelia was hiding something she was sure of it but the woman had proven herself time again so she wouldn't give into any seeds of doubt. She had said she was going to research after all. Bonnie was certain that she'd get the answers whenever she had it.

Satisfied with the herbs she'd picked she left the garden into the house. She jogged light up the stairs to her bedroom and placed her satchel on the table in the corner. When Bonnie first arrived in the city, Cordelia had given her free reign to decorate her room in any manner she liked. She'd picked light pink chiffon curtains with white lace trimmings at the bottom. Paired with the grey cushioned window seat and bay windows, she felt like a princess. Even her bed was queen-sized.

Caroline had squealed happily about how jealous she was when Bonnie sent her a picture. She'd promised to visit soon but the coursework at Whitmore and her sorority made it difficult. Bonnie was definitely not going back to Mystic Falls. After Grams' death trying to seal the tomb, she felt like only a shell of her former self. No one seemed to notice but Caroline and sometimes Matt. Elena understood her pain but most times acted like she wished Bonnie would just get over it quickly.

Her Dad wasn't around enough to notice anything with her. She'd never known her mother since the woman took off on her fourth birthday and never returned. Not even to see her daughter.

Cordelia was an angel. The woman had saved her from drowning in sadness when she hadn't realized it herself. She taught her about her family and their history. About magic and the Bennett coven. Everything she'd been denied all her life.

For that she would be forever grateful.

"Curry leaves, lavender, fenugreek seeds," Bonnie muttered to herself crushing them together with her mortar and pestle. She hadn't been tempted to look into her book of shadows just yet. It was a basic healing potion. She'd done it a few times before but never without looking into the book. Nowadays her magic felt instinctual and less like guesswork. She felt more confident in her powers.

Suddenly, the image of the gold eyes flashed again and she dropped her mortar on the floor startled. Bonnie took a deep breath and bent over to pick it up.

Look for him, a tiny voice whispered to her. She looked around the room confused. Who was she meant to look for?

Who was this man?


"Bernard?" Cordelia gestured with a dainty wrist.

"Yes Madam?" the butler appeared next to his employer.

"Is she still in the garden?" She requested, her eyes were focused on the chair Bonnie had been sitting on moments before.

"She's gone to her room to practice her potions," He confirmed.

"Good," Cordelia muttered standing up, "Breakfast was lovely."

"You're more than welcome madam," Bernard stated humbly then began clearing the dining table. Cordelia walked to her office, Manolo Blahniks clicking noisily on the flawless marble floor. She entered locking the door immediately, lighting a sage candle and drawing down all the curtains to give herself absolute privacy. It wasn't that she didn't trust the two inhabitants in her house but there were delicate matters that needed to remain discrete for the time being.

Cordelia was many things to many people. To her uncle, she'd been the bruja who took his place and brought pride to the family name once more. To the vampires and wolves who'd heard of her, she was the Supreme they dared not trifle with. To the New Orleans witches, she was an arrogant snob and a thorn in their side.

But to herself, Cordelia was a failure. She'd failed to do as she swore to someone she considered a friend and lover. A mistake she'd tried her best to rectify as soon as she could. Bonnie had only been with her for a year and some months. She had lived for far too long without the use of her magic but she was gifted enough to make up for it. Sheila Bennett had tried her best but tucking the girl away and not teaching her about her heritage was a costly mistake. The woman had tried her best though once she felt the girl came of age.

Abby Bennett though was a piece of work.

Cordelia kicked off her shoes and knelt on the hardwood floors. She drew a perfect summoning circle with chalk and lit the candles around them with a simple flick of her finger. She stood in the middle muttering the word with her eyes closed tight and her hands spread apart at her sides. She focused the magic on her fingertips and visualized a face and a name. The room began to darken despite the bright bulbs. Her chanting was nearly involuntary now, the words of power beginning to take a form of their own. Her feet began to slowly lift from the ground. She floated in the air engulfed by the power, her eyes now pools of pure obsidian. A vessel for the magic.

"Cordelia?"

Her eyes opened instantly beholding the figure that appeared before her. She looked the same as always. Cordelia was thankful for that. Not even death could take away the beauty that first took her breath away.

"Amelia," She muttered sweetly. "I've missed you so much."

Amelia Bennett smiled, "You look wonderful dear. But why have you summoned me?"

Cordelia sighed remembering the purpose and trying not to get caught up in the sight of her dead lover as usual, "It's Bonnie. She's having dreams and I need to be sure. She's seeing him; at least I think it's him."

Amelia cocked her head to the side, "Seeing who?"

"Klaus Mikealson."

Both women were silent. It was obvious Amelia had known all this already. Cordelia needed answers quickly so she could not waste time, "What do the spirits know?"

"He's in the city," Amelia revealed, "He's searching for something."

"What?" Cordelia pressed.

Amelia shook her head, "There's a girl the ancestors want dead. She's not a witch and the union which brought her forth to them is an abomination. But she's very powerful."

"Too much for them to handle or control. No wonder they would rather have her dead," Cordelia couldn't help but snark.

"The ancestors have their own set of rules. It's what has kept their line alive and thriving all this time," Amelia gently reminded. It had been a long point of contention between them. Now was not the time to hash it up. Not when they only had a limited amount of time together.

"What does the hybrid have to do with Bonnie?" Cordelia asked.

"Their fates are intertwined somehow. That is all I can say for now." That made her heart drop from her chest. Bonnie was so young and a breath of light. She'd only just begun molding the girl. Why would fate chain her to Klaus Mikealson?

"Why?" She whispered.

Amelia couldn't help the sadness she felt at the sight of Cordelia. The woman was strong and powerful but she'd always carried too much on herself. She still blamed herself for not finding Bonnie on time due to the meddling of Abby Bennett. It also bruised her pride that she, the Supreme, had been tricked by an amateur witch even if she had been a Bennett. She wished she could embrace her former lover to ease her pain.

"I am not privy to everything yet but I can assure that he will not hurt her," Amelia said firmly.

Cordelia gasped, "He is dangerous! The king of the vampires! The hybrid who lays waste to his enemies until not even a speck of their dust remains. He rules his kingdom with an iron fist towards anyone who doesn't yield to his power. You and I have seen the things he's done. Is that who you trust your great-granddaughters life with?"

"As I seem to recall, he's a friend of yours," Amelia pointed out.

Cordelia snorted, "Which means I'm privy to exactly what his faults and weaknesses are. My duty is to protect Bonnie at all costs and teach her how to be the witch she was born to become."

"Then trust what I tell you. They are intertwined. You cannot stop it and neither can I. What you can do is be there for her and guide her. Remain the trusted one you already are," Amelia instructed calmly. "You've done well so far."

Cordelia smiled bitterly, "I'm afraid I've not done enough."

"Stop it," Amelia's voice took a more commanding tone. It was so strong a few papers flew off the desk behind them. "You cannot blame yourself for the choices my granddaughter and great granddaughter made. All you can do is keep doing what you're already doing. Your guilt serves to do nothing but weigh you down unnecessarily. Please my love, release yourself from it. For my sake."

Cordelia shut her eyes forcing the tears that wanted to escape to remain at bay. She would do anything for Amelia. Anything to keep Bonnie safe.

"Alright," She agreed. "Thank you Amelia."

"I love you Delia," was the last thing she heard whispered before she dropped back onto her feet and everything in the room went back to normal. Now she knew more than she did before. It was a good start.

Klaus was back in New Orleans for a reason and she needed to know what it was. There was one place she knew he would be staying. At the house of Marcel, the vampire king of New Orleans and Klaus' beloved son. Amelia had mentioned something about a girl the ancestors wanted dead. The whisperings she heard from the witches hadn't mentioned anything of the sort but she needed more information to be sure. Their Harvest had already occurred so it had to be something else.

She untucked her silk blouse from her Chanel pants and let out a large breath leaning against her desk. Somehow she had to inform Bonnie of what she'd learned so far. That meant having to explain about the Originals and everything they were. Cordelia had done a good job of keeping Bonnie informed of the supernatural world so far but she'd steered clear of the Mikealsons for a reason.

The family came with a special sort of danger, especially the middle child Klaus. They had been allies in the past. Some like Amelia considered them friends. But she was always aware of who he was and the lengths he went to achieve what he wanted. Staying on his good side could be like a game of Russian roulette at times but she grudgingly admitted that he rewarded those who were loyal to him.

She hoped Bonnie would be on his good side if it ever came to it. Although, she was more worried what that would entail.

"Bernard!" Cordelia called out snuffing out the sage candle.

The butler appeared in no time, "Yes Madam?"

"Get the car ready. I'm going out."