September 12, 1998

Incessant. Unending. Ear-bursting.

Crying.

Unfortunately, thanks to the soundproofing charms around the room, she was the only one to hear it.

Annabelle fell out of bed, snatched her wand off the nightstand, and stumbled her way across the room to the bundle of blankets in the corner. She pointed her wand at herself and vanished her top away, and then practically fell onto the floor. She scooted across the carpet, reached into the blankets and checked her wailing firstborn son for any bathroom issues - nothing to worry about there. Then she scooped him up out of the makeshift nest, away from his five siblings. Those five siblings being comprised of two girls and three boys: the girls were Aki and Jemma (a compromise between Anju's "Jemru" and Annabelle's "Jenny"), and the boys were Shyri (shy-ree), Ren and Tej (pronounced in almost a blending of "edge" and a general "shhh" noise that Anju SAID was pretty normal in her language).

All five of Kafe's siblings were all somehow still sleeping soundly. Annabelle hoped to god it stayed that way.

Annabelle cradled her son to her chest as she carefully stood up. Then she tried getting him to nurse (was that what he needed?). He didn't take to it for very long; soon enough he was disengaging, turning his head away and keeping on with the endless wailing. Annabelle took up a fast pacing around the room - round and round - along with a rocking motion for him. She felt like crying, herself - hated herself for it. She almost sort of went on autopilot, keeping the motion, keeping the words coming out of her mouth but not really aware of any of it.

And it just. Kept. Going. For what had to be half an hour, Annabelle was convinced.

Quiet, quiet, stop it, stop- Annabelle caught herself. Her thoughts. No. She went back to the bed and lifted a foot - gave Anju a hard kick in the ass. "Anju! Get up, please, I can't do this, I can't- I don't know what to even- I need to-"

Anju fluttered her wings in a violent awakening. She snapped her gaze to Annabelle immediately, then to Kafe. She was wide awake. She hopped off the bed and muttered a phrase in her own language. An incantation. Suddenly her wings were changing, shrinking and shriveling until they were replaced with feathered arms. Not quite the same as a human's, but good enough to use. She reached for Kafe with talon fingers, took him out of Annabelle's arms and into her own. She took up the same rocking rhythm, took up whispering words meant to soothe. She didn't have any better luck than Annabelle.

Anju glanced at Annabelle. "Did you check him first for-"

"Yes," Annabelle snapped. "None of the others are like this! It's almost, almost easy getting any one of them to just- they only cry when they actually need something, but Kafe, he just-" She stopped. Bit down on her cheek so hard she felt blood loosing. They could join the tears now falling down her face, then. Sorry," she added, immediate. Her throat was strained to hell. Even to herself, her voice didn't sound pretty. "I'm sorry. I just- don't know what-"

"It's all right," Anju assured, over their son's cries. "You can go downstairs for a few minutes - collect yourself."

"Maybe get some sleep..." Annabelle said hopelessly, already starting off for the door.

"If you need it, you can rest about a half hour or so," Anju called after her.

Annabelle ground out an ugly, "Thanks." and shut the door with a hard slam.

Instant, glorious, absolutely heavenly silence - and a chance for sleep.

She stumbled down the stairs, wandered her way into the sitting room, and collapsed on the sofa. She shut her eyes and tried to breathe. She brought a shaking, flesh and blood hand to her face. She automatically began methodically tearing out her eyelashes. Relief. When she didn't have anymore left, she moved to her head, and began plucking out single strands. Single strands became multiple - which became handfuls. She tore it all out and threw it on the floor without even looking. She breathed. She cried.

Frustration.

She jumped up off the sofa and swore at the room. She kicked the entertainment stand. She seized the nearest bookshelf with her metal, enhanced arm and sent it crashing down without much of an effort. She turned and shoved her metal fist through the television screen. She picked that up too, and threw it across the room. She punched at the wall with her real hand, scraping and bloodying it without giving a damn. She tore the cushions off the sofa and threw them into the kitchen; then she picked up the sofa with her metal arm and turned it right over.

She screamed and swore and stomped, breaking everything in sight.

Footsteps barely registered in her deep, thrumming ears.

The lights turned on, and there was Lt. Phelps, rushing out of the hallway with a sidearm in hand - though pointed at the floor. He holstered it immediately on seeing Annabelle.

"Ms. Potter, are you all right? What's got you so-"

"It's none of your fucking business, you nosy little shit!" Annabelle stalked up to Lt. Phelps and raised her metal fist at him. "Get your ungrateful ass back into bed or I swear I'll beat you so hard this time you won't be able to open your eyes for weeks!"

"Ms. Potter..."

Annabelle's heart stopped beating a moment. A long, long moment. Something cold washed over her. She blinked. Looked around herself. Looked at her raised fist, then to Lt. Phelps. She lowered it, clutched it in her real hand and backed away. "I- I almost- oh my god, I..."

"Ms. Potter, it's fine; you didn't do me any harm, and I assume you can just fix this whole mess up with a snap of your fingers? There's nothing to be so upset about. Whatever it is, it's fine. You're fine. You hear me?"

Annabelle let out a half laugh, half sob, and just sort of fell to the floor. She sat among glass, wood, and plastic.

Lt. Phelps sat right down with her, his legs crossed and his hands on his knees. He looked at her, up and down, then fixated very intently upon her face. "Ms. Potter, you want to...get decent for me here please?"

"No."

"Righty, then," Lt. Phelps sighed, shaking his head at her. "You do love New York, so...right, rock that topless look if you want." He hesitated then reached out and put a hand on her bare shoulder. "You want to talk about what caused the total meltdown you had?"

"Babies - kids. My kids!" Annabelle wiped at her running nose. She grabbed Lt. Phelp's wrist and pulled herself forward, and she leaned against him and just started heaving and bawling. "It's only been four fucking days with this shit, and already I haven't slept for more than, what, three or four hours?! And it's just- all the time- and- I just feel so- even with Anju- and I have to do this for the next year? The next two? How long? How the hell does anyone- keep this up?! How do I even keep this up, if I can't last four days?! What the fuck kind of parent will I even be when I'm so fucked up in the head? I've cut myself, tried killing myself, I spent years in a cupboard, I hardly got to eat, I never went anywhere, I've beaten the shit out of my friends before, and I just almost- almost hurt you because...because no matter how hard I try, how much help I get, I'm still just like my aunt and uncle! That's- that's them, that's me: my first instinct is to hit it, to break it, to- and back there, in that room with my- my son, I felt that, and I...fuck, would I have done it? Would I have actually done it? Did my relatives even go that far with me when I was just a baby? If they did, I can't even remember it. The first beating I remember, I was maybe four or five years old and I..."

"Annabelle-"

"If you're calling me that, can I call you James?"

"Sure, kid. I think we're at that level with each other - you're here, just destroyed a whole room, got no shirt on, and you're crying your heart out into my shoulder, and I'm here holding you through it."

"Okay. James. You know my dead dad was named James too."

"Annabelle: you're eighteen. Eighteen years old, still in the teens. No matter what you've gotten done in the world, or how famous you are in your magical societies, or how mature you might seem to be most of the time...you're still just eighteen years old. You're a kid, sorry to say it. So all of this? This thrashing you gave the living room? All these thoughts and feelings yo have in you right now? It's all...expected. It's natural, it's okay. Now yeah, it wouldn't have been okay to hurt your kid over it - or bash my face in with that cybernetic arm of yours - but you didn't. And you recognize that it wouldn't have been okay to do it. That's good. That's incredible, for a kid your age, you know? For a kid, just a girl of eighteen, to have done what you've done, to have kept it together despite everything in your life, that's a miracle to witness. I've been impressed by you, just in this past week or so we've even known each other."

James drew breath. Patted her on the back. Started stroking circles. "That said, you're still just eighteen. So you're allowed to feel these things, to think these things, and to...maybe get it all out of you. Not how you did here - this wasn't exactly healthy, destroying things in anger and frustration - but at least you kept it in long enough not to hurt people. No, how you can get it out is by sitting here with me now and talking about it all. Tell me every thought you have, every fear, every worry - doesn't matter how stupid or even how screwed up you might think it is. I want you to tell me. Just sit here, just get this all out. Or if you don't want to talk just yet, just...cry it out. As much as you can. You'll feel better after, I promise you that, kid."

"Do you- do you have any experience with b-babies?" Annabelle quavered out, still burying her head in James' shoulder. "Anything to...help me?"

"Turns out I do, yes." James let out a chuckle. "I have three kids - all grown. But I remember those early days like yesterday. They were hell, I won't dress it up. But I made it through it. Because I had my wife, and we talked, and we worked with each other, and...and we just didn't give up. That is the most important thing. I know it's a reason why a lot of people tend to walk away - they hear they're having a baby and they just get so damn terrified they book it - but I'd hate to see that be your reason. I'd hate to see you walk away. Ms. Anju is a sweet, gentle sort, and your kids need you. They need you, Annabelle. As much as it might be hell, like tonight, or worse...you just can't walk away. You can't just throw in the towel and give up."

"Can you tell me...honestly...does it get easier? When will it get easier? I want it to be easier!"

"Can't say, sorry kid. Some one and a half year olds will just be these quiet things, and some four year olds will just bug you to hell and back and not give you anything but five to ten minutes to yourself. And when you have more than one kid, that sometimes can overlap. Again, sorry to say, but you having six...it might be a good few years until you can get back to your life at all. But that's the sacrifice of having kids - they need you, they need your life for theirs. That's what you do, you devote to that, you keep with it. Doesn't matter how you feel, what you think: you stick to it."

"I- I feel like running," Annabelle whined. "I don't want to be here, I don't want to do this, I don't want to be this. I can't do this, I can't! I've- been all over the world, been in life or death situations, but this is just...it's insane, and it hurts, and I feel like exploding and overflowing, and I'm so fucking scared of it all!"

"It's good to say it. Just get it out. But don't actually plan on doing it, okay kid? You can vent, you can yell it to the world and you'd be justified about it - no one would blame you, I won't blame you - but don't actually do it. You got me?"

"I wish my parents were here...I want them to help me. I can't do this..."

"I can't imagine - just know it's a tough break. I have a friend who...let's say came out to me as a wizard this past week. Over the phone. And he told me all about you. Your past, your life so far - at least, what news publications have to say about your life so far. He told me about how your parents were murdered by some great, psychotic terrorist. How you lived. The Girl Who Lived, that's your moniker, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Funny they gave me that title; if they only knew how many times I've tried making myself The Girl Who Died already..."

"Tell me, kid, are you thinking about that now?"

"Right now? No. Maybe later, I don't know. Sleep deprivation is bad for your mental health. So is extreme, acute stress."

"Yeah, it tends to be, you're right about that. If you start thinking that way, you tell me. Got it? Can't have the girl I'm tasked with protecting offing herself under my watch. You'd put a heck of a blemish on my record."

Annabelle laughed. She sniffled all her nose's contents back up into herself. Lifted her head at last. "I'll tell you if I do."

"And you'll tell Anju? Or Ms. Norberta out in the yard?"

"Sure, yeah, whatever. I'll tell them too."

"I want you to make that a promise, kid. I don't know if you and Anju are...married - it's amazing that you can do that in your world, though; you said the woman from the diner was your ex wife? - but you should tell her. Talk to her. All of this, everything we just had here? You have that with her, or neither of you are getting through this okay. And your kids will suffer for it."

"I gave Kafe to Anju, before I came down here. She told me to. Said I could. Apparently harpies just don't need to sleep all that much, so she's doing just fine! That also explains why all our kids keep giving me hell every couple hours..."

"That's good. Then you two've already got some good communication going on. Keep that up, make sure not to hold back, okay?"

"Okay."

"Righty. So, kid, you want to clean this mess up? Show me some real, useful magic besides the slaughter of a show you put on for the news?"

Annabelle nodded. She stood. Rubbed her eyes. She took out her wand and concentrated, then gave it a general wave: everything in the room flew around, repaired itself, went back to its original position.

"That's it?" James touched the restored television screen with disbelief. "All that damage you did, and it really took you just five seconds to put it all back to rights? There aren't even any lines or creases, no stitches? It's just, it was broken one moment, now it's whole?"

"Uh-huh. Magic."

"Well..." James moved over to the couch. Gave the arm a pat. Looked her in the eye. "Why don't you get that rest, kid? And tomorrow morning, you'll talk to Anju?"

Annabelle fell onto the couch, turned on one side and curled up into a ball. "Yes. Promise."

"I'll hold you to that." James gave her a smile, a last nod, and then he wandered off back down the hall, shutting the lights off as he left.

Annabelle closed her eyes, and fell asleep in no time at all.

September 13, 1998 - Themyscira Island

In a stone chamber deep underground, Annabelle was conversing with her best friend. Helen was standing by the door, arms crossed, simply observing them. Making sure Daphne didn't hurt anyone.

"Daphne," Annabelle implored. "I need you to be at your best for me. You're going to see someone, talk to her, and...just try not to be scared, or-"

"Therapy?" Daphne questioned, narrowing her disturbing, pure black eyes. "Make me talk? About...what happen to me?"

Annabelle shook her head. "No, it's not a therapist, but it is about what happened to you. I'm sorry, but there are some things I need to know, things I need information about, and you and her are the only ones I can get any of that out of right now. So, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to remember things you maybe don't want to for me. Can you do this for me, Daphne? Please?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Annabelle nodded to Helen. "Bring her in, please. Let's see how this goes."

The other prisoner was led into the stone room, bound in chains and flanked by two of the toughest-looking women Annabelle could ever have imagined - but still she walked in with her head high.

The effect on Daphne was immediate.

"Maria?!" Daphne shot to her feet, lunged forward - the chains brought her up short, and pulled her back down again. "You escape! Knew you would - saw you, saw him - hurt, so sad, I saw-"

"You left me alone." The twisted woman's voice was as Daphne's: a strange echo running under it, and a distortion throughout it. But there was also something else in there, something Daphne didn't have in hers - hate.

Daphne shrunk back against the wall, as if trying to disappear into it. Her face twisted with grief. "Not mean to- not- want to- I- you said- said run- said go- I went to help! To Annabelle! Say, she can help! She can! She can! I promise- I promise-!"

"When will you put her down?" Maria sighed, turning to Annabelle. "She's broken, she can't be fixed - she's a failure. Why do you keep her here? Do you get pleasure out of seeing her like this?"

"I'm keeping her here because I believe she can be fixed," Annabelle said calmly. She backed up to the edge of the room and leaned against the cool stone wall.

"Not have success - got chained up," Daphne stated, giving an irritated huff and rattling the aforementioned chains - much more like the Daphne that Annabelle had grown up with and known; it almost made her smile. "And not fun chained up, this shit chained up," she added, shaking her head. Her snow white hair shimmered with every motion.

Maria smirked. "Good."

"Okay, what's your problem with Daphne?" Annabelle interjected. "Backstory, please. Something about leaving you? Behind, to die? Is that it? I can understand that, you'd be perfectly entitled to your feelings on it, but-"

"I'm very close to perfection," Maria interrupted, fixing Annabelle with a look of total disdain. Her voice just flooded with smugness - and spite. "whereas she's not. She'll never become perfect, not like me. Not like the rest. She's a waste, a failure - trash belongs in the trash."

"That is some insanely heavy Stockholm going on there in your head," said Annabelle, letting her hand drop from her hip. She looked between Maria and Daphne, and all she could feel was heartache.

"Stockholm?" Maria laughed, and it came out sounding like a grinding, serrated knife-on-metal type of noise. Not pleasing on the ears in the slightest. "No, it's simple truth."

"Really? How long have you been on the road to perfection?" Annabelle casually inquired.

Maria's eyes lit up with satisfaction, with excitement, with anticipation at the mere mention of such a road. "Twelve years."

"Right. And you're how old, exactly?"

"Twenty-six."

"Yeah - Stolkholm it is." Annabelle turned away from Maria, focused on Daphne. "Daphne, listen, I'm sorry your friend is so ill. We're going to work on getting her all deprogrammed, though. We'll bring in experts, trusted people from some magical society. We'll get sessions arranged for her, and maybe meds, whatever it takes. She'll be back to herself eventually. Maybe weeks, months, years...but she will. Just like you. Just like we're going to work as hard as we can to get you back to normal."

"Even if you do rob me of my chance for perfection," Maria began, in a tone that suggested she'd taken nothing but offense to Annabelle's assurances. "others will still reach it in my stead. They will carry on where I couldn't, and they'll do what we're all meant to do. And they'll do it for me."

"Not worried," Daphne snorted, tossing her head, her hair, like she would always do as a child. "When I am normal...when Mari normal...can help them after. Help them...be normal too. If some not...want normal...cannot be normal...then sad, but kill."

"We'll talk about that," Annabelle said sternly. "But not right now. Right now...Mari, I want to know why you were there at the diner - you and the other person."

"Isn't it obvious? Daphne ran right to you, and her being loose in the world means she can be found, spoken with, and studied - that isn't something She wants, again, for obvious reasons. So She sent myself and Stross to kill you, to keep whatever you might have learned or heard from Daphne from getting out to anyone else."

"Stross?" Annabelle noted. She looked at Daphne. "Did you know a-"

"Ryan Stross," Daphne exclaimed, like she had just gotten the right answer on a really difficult test. She frowned. "He...give me food, help train, help fight, help not hurt...anymore. After. Like him. Dead now?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"He'll be remembered," Maria said fiercely. "When I go back, I'll make sure none of the others forget him. He did good."

"I'm sure you believe that - that you'll go back to your captors, abusers - and I'm sorry you do."

"We not go back," Daphne said firmly, smiling at Maria. "Free now. Safe now. You forget? Made promise..."

"I changed my mind after you never actually came back for me. Where were your friends? Where was help? The great rescue you promised? Do you know what happened to me when She found me outside? When she knew that I'd been with you, helping you get free? When she knew I wanted to be free too? To sink right back into a pathetic, disgusting life of boredom, of mediocrity? Everything she had done for me, everything she taught me...I wanted to throw it all away, because you convinced me to! Do you know what she did to me when she saw all of that in my mind?"

"Sorry. I...sorry. Very sorry. Could not go back," Daphne pleaded, rattling her chains once more and ducking her head in indication. "Stuck here. Not let leave. Annabelle talk, others watch, magic not-"

"Our magic is beyond theirs! How couldn't you just get out of this, how can't you do that right this very moment?"

"How can't you?" Annabelle spoke quietly.

Maria looked at her with raw, murderous desire. But she said nothing in response. Nothing at all.

"Who's this 'She' you keep referring to?" asked Annabelle, wanting to bring things back to their original purpose. "The one who's responsible for these kidnappings? For the experiments? For the brainwashing?"

"She is the one helping us to become the most perfect, most powerful beings on this entire planet."

"Uh-huh. Okay. Want to throw me a name here? Description?"

Maria did her best to spit at Annabelle from across the room. "You lowlifes don't deserve to even speak Her name."

Annabelle sighed. "Right. I'll ask Daphne - Daphne, could you tell me who was holding you captive all those weeks? What her name was, how she looked? Did you see?"

"Saw," Daphne confirmed, a shiver running through her. "Talked to. Screamed at her - lots...at first. Not...make things better. I stop...stopped soon." She was quiet for nearly ten seconds, her eyes furrowed, her lip being bitten into. She seemed to be doing her absolute best to form coherent, much more full sentences; she knew this was important. "Her name...Ellesmere? Met Maria after. We share room. Talked. Say...about before. Our lives. I tell her...we can leave. Escape. If...we are...together. I say, to her, I have a plan. I did, we did. I got out of...underground place. I heard guards - followed us. I tell Maria, I will go, I will get help. I did...find help...but help chain me here," she finished, slow and halting. A face of wide eyes and quivering lips faced Annabelle.

"Ellesmere. All right. Now can you tell me, what did she look like?"

"Tall. Black hair. Heart face. Small nose. Chest have...big scar? Birthmark? Not know. Saw it...only one time. Mark go across, left to right, down. Curve to hip."

"Alright. Thank you, Daphne. At least now I have a bit to work with, instead of nothing. You've been a huge help, you've been- really good. Real good for me, and I'm so glad to have you back. That you're safe, and free again."

"Be more free not chained," Daphne strung together, shooting an annoyed look at Helen. "More free not...here."

"I know what you mean," Annabelle smiled. "It's the same problem I'm having now. Can't go out, can't really do anything, because of all the dangers out there, just waiting to spring out and get me. You'd have that too, sorry to say. But, what if we could at least get you your help in the same place as mine? Would you like to stay with me? If you can behave, and stay put?" she added firmly.

"Yes - promise," Daphne said quickly. "Off chains, take away. Please. Promise listen."

"Okay." Annabelle waved her wand, and the magic chains disappeared.

Daphne stood up, at her full, new height. She looked down at Annabelle, all smiles. "Feels better."

"Yeah, I bet. I'm sorry you had to be like this, while they had you here."

Daphne looked at Maria. Stared into her eyes. Black on black. Then, with all the cruelty - and coherency - she could muster, she said, "Fuck you, for try to kill my best friend." She strode from the room with exaggerated hip swing, and raised a clumsy hand to flip Maria off without looking back.

That is definitely still the girl I knew, thought Annabelle, following Daphne out.

US Government Safehouse - Unknown location

Annabelle and Daphne appeared in the sitting room with a loud crack (a deliberate thing on Annabelle's part: the security detail liked to have a bit of warning when people were popping in and out of reality - she'd scared the hell out of quite a few of them with silent apparitions before, leading at least one of them to comment on how she was as terrifying as a horror movie slasher).

"This is her, then, is it?" said James Phelps, eyeing Daphne up and down. There was the slightest hint of wariness as he took in the claws - or maybe it was just due to her looking similarly to Maria and the deceased Ryan Stross from the diner attack.

"Yeah," Annabelle confirmed, squeezing Daphne's hand and throwing a smile up at her. "This is Daphne. Thank you for allowing me to bring her here. She really needs it. She needs a room, she needs the help. And she needs to get it all in a safe place."

"Well, we've got two spare rooms upstairs - she can pick one," James replied. "Furnish it however she likes, I'm sure, with magic."

"That won't be a problem," Annabelle assured. "No one has to go out furniture shopping. We'll just get a few sticks and pebbles, do some transfiguration, and maybe a couple conjurations and we'll be good to go here."

"Right. Show her upstairs, then. Get to it. Make her comfortable. I'll put in a call to my wizard friend and ask him about any home caretakers or whatever you might have in your societies that's an equivalent."

"I'll pay for Daphne's sessions, all her potions - her meds - whatever it takes," Annabelle said, nodding. "You won't have to worry about that, either. I'm a rich woman."

"So I hear," James chuckled. He motioned toward the stairs - shot a meaningful look at his two fellow officers standing around in the kitchen. "Really though, get her up, if you would? I don't want her down here feeling crowded - certainly not by strangers."

"Sure." Annabelle gave Daphne's hand a tug, started off for the stairs. After careful climbing of the steps, they moved down the hall, passed many doors until they came to the last two on the right. Annabelle opened both of them, gestured inside. "So, Daphne: which one do you want?"

Daphne chose the very last room. A bit larger, with a nice window view of the field, and the woods beyond.

Annabelle smiled. "Good choice."

After helping Daphne set up her room, and spending a bit of time with her, Annabelle wandered outside to chat with a recently-arrived Norberta and Emerich. She returned to the house after, had a quick lunch - simple sandwiches - then she went upstairs and entered her and Anju's room.

And they talked, too. Started to. Annabelle didn't get very far into near-hysteric ramblings of a sleep-deprived woman until...

"If you can't handle this, just as a simple fact of biology, then I can do this on my own," Anju spoke in gentle tones. "I'm not a stranger to raising children - growing up myself in Rynegaul, I helped a few different families when I could. Our community has always been a community, with everyone doing their part for everyone else. That sometimes included looking after more than a few babies."

"Explains why you're so damn good at it..."

"Yes, it does! And if you're not, that's fine! If you want to...if you want to sit out these first, early, hectic weeks, that's just fine. I promise you."

Much as Annabelle's brain was screaming at her not to say it... "Skip the hard stuff and just drop in when it's easy? No, no, I won't do that, Anju. I'd feel like shit afterward, for the rest of our lives, probably. And besides, our kids need both of us. They need me - for more reasons than just the practical and obvious; they have to bond with me in those early times, don't they? I have to bond with them, or I'm not going to feel anything for them. Or maybe just...less than I should. And I don't want that. Not for them. I'll stick to it, Anju, I'm not going anywhere. I'd just...like a few more hours of sleep every twenty-four hours or so, that's all - sorry, can't help being human, we need at least seven or eight hours to be considered healthy."

"For your health, I can give you that," Anju assured. She embraced Annabelle in her wings, brushing her bare backside, covering her like blankets. Warm, soft. She kissed her. "I've never been around so many humans before, and not for so long, so I think this is partly my fault too - I had no idea you had such different needs than my people, than harpies. I'd thought it was simple inexperience getting to you, not your health. I didn't know you were suffering so terribly over it, and I am so sorry for that."

"Yeah, well, we've got it sorted out now," said Annabelle, trying to smile.

"We do."

"Thank you."

Late in the evening, Annabelle again found herself spending time with Daphne. Not for pleasure, though, and not really to help her in any immediate sense of things. However...

"Daphne, do you think you could do something for me?"

Daphne just looked at her, curled up on the bed and swathed in blankets as she was then. Her lips held a smile. "Yes. What?"

Annabelle got up from the desk and moved over to the bed - sat down beside Daphne. She touched her hip, stroked with an idle thumb. "I'd like to have some of your memories. Specifically, some memories from your time...wherever you were...and from your escape from that place - before you found me in that hospital."

"How?" said Daphne, the height of dubiousness.

"I've never done it myself - only seen it - but I've been told it's a natural thing," Annabelle said patiently. She offered her wand to Daphne. "Here: you can use mine for it, since you don't have yours anymore."

Daphne freed a lengthy arm from the covers. She took the wand in her clawed, thin hand. Held it up to her face and looked it over. "How?"

"Just...try to relax? Think about the things that I need you to think about, and then just...put your wand to your head and say the words, Memoria Extractus."

Daphne sat up very suddenly (even sitting, she towered over Annabelle). She frowned, stared down at the wand in her hand some more. This went on for nearly half a minute.

"Daphne, are you okay-"

"Quiet. Am concentrating," Daphne snapped, with a little huff to punctuate it.

"Sorry."

Several minutes passed before Daphne finally spoke the words - "Memoria Extractus!" - and began to pull a long, thin silver strand of memory from her mind. It stayed attached to the tip of Annabelle's wand as Daphne held it awkwardly about. "What now?" she asked.

"Now," said Annabelle, reaching out for her wand and its accompanying memories. "I put this all here for safekeeping-" She conjured a flask and stuffed the strand into it. "-and I take it somewhere it can actually be used." She stood, gave Daphne's cheek a caress. Gave her a smile. "You did great, Daphne, thank you."

"Welcome. Love you, best friend. But go away." Daphne disappeared under the blankets, long tresses of snow white hair the only part of her sticking out. "My room."

With a grin, Annabelle reached out and gave Daphne a hard poke. "Yeah, I love you too, Daffy."

Daphne shifted under the covers. "Fuck you!"

"Never going to happen."

"Out already! Out, out, out!"

Annabelle laughed. "All right, I'm going. Be back later tonight - hopefully in time for dinner." She focused her mind, and she performed a very loud apparition out of Daphne's room and back into her own. She put on her jacket, brushed her hair back over her shoulders, and breathed. Where she had to go next...she'd need to make a little pit stop first.

She apparated again, reappearing inside a large, dark bedroom in Grimmauld Place. Her bedroom. She opened up her old school trunk, pulled her Invisibility Cloak, along with the Marauder's Map, from dust and little broken bits and bobs - gave both of these items a proper brushing down with a loving hand. She contemplated going around the house in search of Sirius, but...no. She didn't want to have to tell him about Anju and their kids just yet - way too damn scary to even think about.

So Annabelle simply stuffed the Map in her jacket, donned her Cloak, and performed a third apparition to take her out of Grimmauld Place and on to her true destination.

Upon arrival, Annabelle navigated calm streets and little groups and individual villagers. She passed by shops and homes. She couldn't help the face-hurting grin that came over her. She looked ahead, far ahead, and took in the magnificent castle in the distance. Standing there just the same as the very first time she had arrived here at the age of eleven.

Hogwarts, I'm home.

"You've been quite busy since you left these halls, haven't you, my dear girl?"

"How do you always do that?!" Annabelle pulled off her Cloak, strode across the Headmaster's office, and threw her arms around Albus Dumbledore's middle. "How do you always just know?"

Dumbledore stared down at her with nothing but amusement as he returned her hug. "Perhaps one day I will indeed divulge my most closely guarded secrets to you - but alas, that day is not today," he added, utterly affectionate. They drew apart, and Dumbledore's face was overcome with the slightest of frowns. He took her in, and the frown deepened. "How have you been, Annabelle? Forgive me, but you look-"

"Like total shit, I know, but I'll get better," Annabelle cut across, laughing. "And how about you?"

"I must admit to not being at my best in recent days," Dumbledore began mournfully. "The Ministry has been requiring my constant attentions - and the Minister himself has been writing me nigh endless letters." He waved an absent hand, and a bowl of candies appeared in the air beside him. He plucked it out of the air and held it out to Annabelle. She took two without hesitating, started unwrapping them. Dumbledore watched her a moment, a delighted twinkle to his eyes, before he went on with, "Of course, it was quite a shock to learn the source of all this commotion inside the Ministry! The Statue of Secrecy torn away, calls for the ICW to convene every other hour, reports of dragons in New York City, a renegade fairy, and a miniature army of magi-arachnids on the loose! And when the Ministers and other various Heads of States moved to meet with their muggle counterparts, why they were met with small armies of muggles who were very prepared and willing to harm them - and some of them did, in fact, do harm to quite a few mages. It was all very chaotic and, again, so very shocking. And it hasn't lessened any this past week: we've had calls and meetings forced by muggle leaders, reports all over the globe about assaults on mage neighbors by muggles, as well as the opposite. All of it very unfortunate. Now, imagine my surprise when I learned the very source of all this trouble. When I learned justwhat it was that had caused such a fire to spread across the world!"

"Or rather, just who had caused such a fire to spread across the world," Dumbledore amended, that twinkle gaze of his growing more intensely emotional. Annabelle looked down at her own feet, twisted her hands together at her waist. "When I uncovered the identity of this incredible, wonderful, brave young woman I couldn't have been more proud."

Annabelle lifted her head in an instant. "Really?"

"Of course!" Dumbledore exclaimed, grasping her arms as if he were about to sweep her into another hug. "Annabelle, what have I always said?"

"Choosing to do what's right versus what's easy, yeah..." Annabelle trailed off, shook her head. "But I still threw the world into chaos. Like you just said, some people have been hurt or killed over it - and they will be, later. It'll take a while to...die down."

"Yes, you did, and yes, they will. And that is a regrettable price to have to pay for a better future for us all - but it is one we must pay. We will feel the weight of it for the rest of our lives, we will remember it, but we will still continue moving forward."

"Yeah. So you definitely think I did the right thing?"

"I do," Dumbledore said firmly. "Perhaps what was done should not have been done in so spectacular and abrupt a manner, but you got the job done all the same," he added, smiling at her.

"Thanks." Annabelle dug into her jacket, pulled out the vial of memories. She held it up for Dumbledore to see. "These are Daphne's. Did you read in the papers about how she went missing? Did you know she had a few warrants out for her?"

"I did read about that, yes." Dumbledore scrutinized the vial closely. "I also have heard about her having made an appearance at the hospital the day you changed the world. Of course, she was reported to have vanished along with the rest of those admirable people who put in appearances to support you and your cause. I presume you have been keeping her somewhere since that encounter?"

"Yeah. A few different places, actually. Things with her are...complicated, a little relieving, but mostly just sad." Annabelle sighed. She strode over to the desk and conjured up a chair - seated herself in it. Dumbledore followed after her, sat down across the desk from her. "She didn't actually do what everyone thinks she did to me - wasn't her. She was actually being held prisoner in some...horrible place. She was tortured, experimented on, along with more than a few others, I think. I've already met two more from the same place: one of them is dead, and the other one is being held somewhere safe. I had Daphne meet with the other one, a woman named Maria, and I tried to get as much information as I could out of them both. Maria wasn't too cooperative - she's brainwashed, all Stockholm-y. So I had to use Daphne as my main source. She agreed to do the memory extraction charm, to give me a few memories from her time in captivity, and now...here I am."

"And you require the use of my pensieve in order to uncover a much greater wealth of information on the ones responsible for doing all of this to Miss Greengrass," said Dumbledore, nodding at her. "I will, of course, allow you to use it to your heart's content. I will only ask that you copy these memories and give them to law enforcement - as well as a written document containing every bit of information you have heard from word of mouth, every speculation and theory you might have. If there are still other people out there undergoing such a terrible ordeal as Miss Greengrass and this Maria, then the law enforcement agencies of the world will be more than capable of handling it. Much more so than you yourself alone ever could, I'm sorry to say - you are, after all, still just one woman. One extraordinary, strong, and highly capable woman, yes...but still only one person alone."

"Agreed. But this won't leave me alone," Annabelle replied. "Maria and another, the dead one, a man named Ryan Stross, were sent to kill me because I had Daphne. Because she could talk, and be studied for what she was almost turned into. Now that I have Maria, and Stross is dead - giving the world another corpse to study - I'm not betting on the mastermind being happy with just letting me live out my life peacefully."

"Could Miss Greengrass provide any clues as to the identity of said mastermind?"

Annabelle shrugged. "Not much. Just a physical description, a bit about a big defining scar or something down her front, and a name: Ellesmere."

"A highly uncommon name, I believe," Dumbledore mused. "That should make things easier for law enforcement to investigate her."

"Great. There's something else I want to talk about here. A big, important part of this. So, yeah, uh, when Maria and Stross attacked me, Lisa was there too. She recognized...parts of them. She said they looked elven, almost. But, not really...fully elven. That's the goal, the reason for it all. Ellesmere is trying to turn humans into elves, just for power. A bunch of brainwashed mage supersoldier types. I don't know what she's going to do with them all after she gets the results she's looking for, though."

"Ahhh...one of the oldest mysteries of this world. The original elven species - so-called 'pure' elves."

"You know about them?"

"I have heard a little bit about them, here and there," Dumbledore elaborated. "Theories and speculation about them have been constantly circling around the greatest of minds, capturing their imaginations like no other. The sparse facts that we have uncovered about them over the years, little pieces of evidence - a structure here, an ancient document there - have only spurred theorists and researchers on further."

"What about you?"

"My areas of theory and research have always been more elemental and mystical than historical or biological - even among mages," Dumbledore answered. "However, I do keep up with other well-known researchers, and so I do know that even to this day there has been nothing more reported found from ancient elven civilization than a few buildings and a few scattered pages. No great treasure trove - in other words, nothing that could have ever led someone like this Ellesmere to discovering how to transform humans into elves, down to even altering the very nature of their magic."

"Unless someone did - maybe Ellesmere herself?" Annabelle ventured. "Maybe they just kept quiet about it. Kept it to themselves."

Dumbledore inclined his head. "That is always a possibility."

"So..."

"Would you care to view the memories now?" Dumbledore inquired, gesturing to the cabinet where he had always stored the pensieve.

"Yeah. Yeah, I just...could you come with me? Be there with me? Please?"

He smiled at her. "Of course, Annabelle."

Annabelle stood. "Thank you."

Together, they approached the pensieve...