Jun-Aug201-2012

Chapter 26: Relativity

"The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once."

― Albert Einstein

Hazel Cross was...alive? Somehow, she could almost recognize voices and movement, screaming and the strangest feeling underneath the pain. As if she was slowly being drained, being….what was she doing, again? She'd tried..tried to apparate, right? Pain, burning, ripping, she was soaked, was it blood or something else? She couldn't feel her legs. She'd tried to escape, to bring the Lycaereum to Mason; she couldn't, didn't know where. Where to go, where she was. Was she alive? Still..? She tried to get to Mason's, but it'd failed...right? She couldn't feel her left arm. She could've sworn she felt something solid underneath her back, heard the clatter of the lantern and the shatter of glass. Maybe it'd been Mason's voice that she heard, rough and trembling, saying her name...over and over again. Her legs, where were her legs? She was probably staining the carpet, if she was alive. If she could speak, she'd try to apologize. Blood was difficult to remove from cloth. Fingers touched her right hand - she still had one, it seemed - peeling hers fingers from the handle. But she couldn't feel her left arm, just the pain, echos of the ripping -

There was another twist in her gut, Hazel drifted...somewhere. Between. Between awake and unconscious. Between living and dead. She'd lost three of her limbs. Lost her only child mere hours before. She lost, lost too much, gone. How was she alive? More voices, hands plucking at where her arm had been, something warm running across her. Liquid trickled over her lips, hands opening her mouth. "Need to destroy...after.." Maybe it'd been Mason's voice, or someone else, that yelled, ringing in her ears. "...to save.." She still had her ears, and could feel them brush against the soft material beneath her, against her hair, hands touching her face and skin. "...to go back now!" Were the only words she could make out. Was someone crying? Seemed silly, she wasn't dead. Not fully, not yet. Did they get the...the lantern? That was what mattered.

A palm turned her limp head, the figures blurring in strangely entertaining colors around her. Another voice, and the vaguely familiar magic pulled; suddenly, she was coughing and could see everything in sharp details. People moved around her, and she looked down. She'd only gotten a glimpse - Where were her legs, Merlin, her legs were gone, what the bloody - before someone grabbed her chin. "Hazel," Grey eyes bore into her own, strangely red around the edges, glimmering with heavy emotions, "You need to tell us when to go back. When were you at Ridgeway's manor after second year?" She hadn't realized she blinked until her cheek stung lightly, eyes slowly opening once more. Her arm...She'd lost so much, what was - "Hazel, love, focus. We can save you, but you need to tell us when to go back."

Thinking felt like...the swamp. With..someone...Kes?...she'd traveled to New Orleans, Louisiana to observe a pack of Rougarou, werewolf-esque creatures with a reputation for violence. They hadn't seen any, left only with a combination of relief and disappointment. They...they had gotten lost in the deep swamp. It felt like...like fighting against thick, slow slog of thoughts, distractions and sounds and noise around her. This was important, right? Hands gripped the back of her head, which felt surprisingly heavy. Especially given how light her body felt. Hazel tried to think of Marcus, of the manor and the lantern. The plan to change the world...as they...as they knew it. When had it been? Years ago, before their...what was it?..third year.

"Aug-" Something trickled over her lips as the witch tried to speak, unusually warm against her skin. "Aug-augus...tw-" It was difficult to speak when there was so much blood. When had it gotten into her mouth? She could feel too much and not enough. Someone lifted her head, and her vision rolled to the side. A light blue, knitted flowers and vines. Stained. "Twentif.." Her vision returned to the pale ceiling, heads above her. 2012. August 20, 2012….right? Her head felt heavy, and she could only taste metal and salt.

There was something soft pressed to her forehead, subtle drips of liquid falling onto her cheeks. A clink of metal, footsteps and low voices. Someone took her remaining - only - hand. Her last thought before the world twisted again was...what was it again? Her senses dulled, slipping into a comforting darkness, numb. Does history truly repeat itself?

.

..

…

….

Hazel Cross felt….small. The room around her was clear, acute edges and colors and shapes. Quiet. It was too quiet. For a moment, the witch marveled at the mere feeling of air moving through her lungs, the ability to open and close her eyes. Her toes wiggled underneath soft - Her toes! Bolting upright, the witch studied the body she found herself in. Her body..? She knew her breathing was ragged, knew the sheets crumpled around her, but found it difficult to care. She had her legs, her arm, everything was here. She was in one piece, seemingly whole. A deep, sudden pain ached through her entire body; Hazel curled in on herself as the memories and pain and everything flashed around her. Phantom pain echoed through her bones, running up and down her legs. She had legs, arms. She was here. But...where was that?

The bed around her seemed much too large for her skinny frame - right, she was twelve again, or in her twelve year old body. The room itself did look slightly familiar; it took her a second to recognize the manor, the bedroom she used when living with Ridgeway. Before. Merlin, was it 2012 now? They'd, they'd done it. They're back in time. Did that mean - Her eyes jumped to the door as one knock sounded, then two. She had to remind herself how to breathe as a voice called her name, muffled through the wooden barrier. She hadn't heard that voice since Paris.

"C'mon pipsqueak, we've got a busy day." As Markus Ryker walked inside, the wizard had to steady himself as a small witch barreled towards him in a tight hug, trembling. Thankful he couldn't see her face, Hazel used the beloved wizard - he was alive, still alive, Merlin, she'd missed him, she was back, they were here, safe, alive - as her personal lifeline as emotions rocked over her strangely small frame. Markus was alive, he was alive, he was safe and alive and here. Edward and Mohinder were alive, they were here and alive. Not dead, not gone. "Can't..breathe." Markus huffed dramatically, gently placing his hands on her shoulders to peel the witch from him. The grin nearly made her break down all over again, and she blinked rapidly, sniffling. "Hazel, are you alright? You're acting like you haven't seen me in forever." His chuckle echoed in the silence, and the witch desperately tried to reign in her raging emotions. She wasn't the innocent, sheltered twelve-year-old girl she'd been. Letting out a shaky sigh, Hazel didn't fight the responding smile that hurt her cheeks, meeting the incredibly wonderful and familiar green eyes.

"Aren't I allowed to be happy?" Hazel finally responded, stepping back to collect herself properly. Phantom pain raced up her legs at the movement. Pausing, she added, "It's August, right?" Markus's brow furrowed as he stared at the witch, likely wondering what in Merlin's name was going through her head. If only he knew. "Are you sure you're alright? I can get the professor." His bright smile diminished, and immediate panic raced through her. Keeping her lips lifted, Hazel rubbed the back of her neck, hoping to come off as sheepish. "Yeah, I just had..a nightmare. It had been scary, that's all. No need to bother him with this." She laughed at the irony. Nightmare indeed. Purple flames, green light, red blood, spilling, tearing, burning. "I'll meet you downstairs," She offered when the boy continued to eye her suspiciously. Sighing, the smile returned as Markus nodded, "Sure thing, pipsqueak." This time, Hazel broke into giggles at the achingly familiar ruffle, ducking her head with a grin. She was back, he was safe. Alive.

As she moved around the room - it'd taken a few minutes to remember her clothes were tucked into the lower drawers - Hazel thought about the others. Although she could scarcely remember traveling back in time, could only remember bits and pieces, pain and blue fabric and red blood dripping over her lips, the witch remembered that the plan had been for four people to return. Alongside herself, Kestis, Tim, and Mason were supposed to go. If they were returned to their bodies on August 20, 2012, today, then that would mean they're likely wherever they had originally been during that summer. This summer, the brunette corrected herself. Kestis had said he was...with Hagrid? They were out of the country, out of England. Romania, if she remembered correctly. Tim was with his family, and Jack - The shirt slipped out of Hazel's hands, and she quickly bent down to scoop it up, ignoring the intense aching. Merlin, Jack was alive. He was...as he'd been, before Paris. Before he had killed Markus. They were all alive. Dark eyes filled her mind's eye, and she shivered despite the warmth of the room and the underlying relief.

Hazel left the bedroom with a plan. A decent one, she hoped. With the others outside of Iceland, it was best to wait before destroying the memories. She could use the lantern, return it to the Ministry. Get Marcus medical help to remove any lingering memories or...influence. Hazel nearly threw up at the idea of apparition, but stood in the empty hall until she could breathe again. Never again, if she was lucky….which, knowing her, she wasn't. She'd written out quick, coded letters to both Kestis and Tim in the hopes that they could use it to find her...and find the manor. She wasn't sure if she was still a Secret Keeper, if the magic wards here in 2012 would recognize her. Even though it seemed to be a suitable enough plan, Hazel still felt guilty. If she was honest, the witch knew some of the stalling was simply an excuse to spend time with the Corre, with Edward and Markus. As she walked down the stairs, both wizards turned to smile up at her. Hazel returned the smile, happy to only temporarily ignore the underlying dread and aching of her limbs.