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Annabelle stumbled back from the pensieve, her hands over her ears and her eyes shut tight. The office swayed under her feet. She felt sick rising in her throat. She jerked a hand down over her mouth, drew in a shaking breath-
And she puked.
She fell to hands and knees, and she heaved and cried.
Daphne...
A gentle hand on her back, rubbing circles. A quiet, soothing voice in her ear.
"Annabelle, that was then, not now. Daphne is safe, safe under your care. Free and well as she can be." Despite his words, Dumbledore's voice held a slight tremor to it - a note telling of disgust, and still-lingering shock.
"I- gotta go get back to her-" Annabelle choked. She wiped at her mouth and stood up again. She picked up her Invisibility Cloak off the floor, shoved it into the waistband of her jeans, and pulled on her jacket. She headed for the door with a swimming head and shaking shoulders. With arms wrapped around her middle. "Check on her- dinner- wash her up-"
"Annabelle, I don't believe you're in any right state to apparate," Dumbledore called after her. "You're likely to splinch yourself, perhaps even fatally. I would advise you to stay a while - I can take you to the hospital wing for a-"
"Gotta get back to her..." Annabelle murmured, pulling open the door with a distant, numb hand and starting down the spiral staircase. "Gotta see her again...she needs me..."
She screamed for me. She begged for me. Every time, all the time, it was always for me.
"Back now?" Daphne spoke, sitting up in her bed. She gestured with a long arm to the food tray on the nightstand. "Ate already." She snorted, shook her head. "You get nothing! Nothing from-"
Annabelle sat down on the bed and wrapped her arms around Daphne's lanky figure. Leaned into her, and started stroking her arm.
"-me," Daphne finished quietly. "Sad? What- for?"
"You," whispered Annabelle, soft as she could.
Daphne wrapped long arms around Annabelle, and she lowered herself back onto the bed - took Annabelle with her. Her grip tightened; her claws dug into Annabelle's ribs. "Found you," she breathed, in nothing but warm, happy tones.
"Found you, too, Daffy..."
They lay together for many long minutes, not kept track of - not known; didn't matter. Uncared for. Each other, were the only things they cared about in these many minutes.
Annabelle eventually had to move. Only, she realized Daphne had fallen asleep with her. She apparated from out of Daphne's embrace, to reappear in the kitchen downstairs. She shed her jacket, threw it on the back of a chair at the little round table. She pulled her Cloak from her jeans and tossed it onto her jacket.
She was rummaging around the cabinets for something to make, when Gertrude entered the kitchen.
"You missed damn good food," Gertrude rasped out, a wide grin splitting her face. She climbed up onto a chair and brushed her disheveled, dirty black hair out of her eyes. "Lieutenant Phelps...oh, the things he can cook up. You humans eat this sort of thing all the time, though, don't you? It probably doesn't taste like anything special. But me...I choked up all that flavor. It's goddamn overwhelming!"
"I can't really imagine," responded Annabelle; she shifted a few boxes and cans around in a high cabinet.
"You can stop screwing around with that stuff - we left you a plate in the fredger...fridgeter...the cold box," Gertrude finally settled on, letting loose a joyous but throaty cackle.
Annabelle opened the fridge - found the plate. She took it out, walked over to the table and sat down beside Gertrude. She smiled, gave her cheek a little caress. "Thank you, Gertrude. That was really thoughtful of everyone."
"Wasn't my thought," Gertrude chortled, shaking her head.
Annabelle shrugged, reached for a handful of cooled pasta. "Yeah, well, you still pointed me to the-"
"Where's your fork?"
"What?"
Gertrude mimed the use of a fork, jabbed a claw at the plate. "Human culture. You eat with those metal sticks - you're the one who told me how big of a rude move it was to not do that," she reminded. "I didn't do it at dinner tonight, didn't even need to be told not to," she continued on proudly.
"Not every human culture uses them," Annabelle responded, picking at her noodles and stuffing them into her mouth. She set an elbow on the table, rested her arm.
"See, now you're doing that too-"
"Gertrude: I don't care," Annabelle interrupted. "Not tonight. Just be yourself for me and try not to care, yourself, okay?"
Gertrude frowned at her. Shrunk down into her chair. "Did someone piss on you while you were off doing whatever you were doing?"
"What?"
"What? It's happened to me once." Gertrude's face was overtaken by a sudden grin. "Actually no, it's happened twice - second time, I asked for it, from this really crazy giantess named Kigari-"
"I don't care," Annabelle reiterated, clenching her teeth. "Let me eat - or, go away. Fuck. I don't care. Just shut up, fucking shut up-"
Gertrude leapt up onto the table, took two steps forward, and then she kicked Annabelle's plate clear across the kitchen. It shattered; her food splattered all over the floor. Gertrude raised her hands and flipped Annabelle off in stereo, then turned and jumped off the table, and quickly left the kitchen.
Annabelle stared after her. She let her head smack down onto the table, and she started to cry. Frustration, helplessness - things way too common inside of her these days, she reflected.
October 31, 1998 - Las Vegas, Nevada
Annabelle ran, leapt, apparated in the air and reappeared several blocks ahead. She set her jaw, threw her shoulders back and raised her wand - flourished and chanted; and around her the barrier formed, rose up and became a great dome just as the rampaging Nundu closed the distance between them so unbelievably fast.
The barrier coalesced, solidified itself around them, trapping Annabelle and the Nundu at the intersection. The Nundu who was large enough to take down and eat elephants - which, some did, in other places in the world.
Annabelle kept her wand up as the Nundu's head whipped down, as those ferocious eyes found her. That mighty tail flicked behind him. Spotted fur rippled from the muscles beneath.
"What are you doing?" Annabelle said, clear and loud.
The Nundu let out a deep growl that was simultaneously low in volume yet so thunderous it rippled through Annabelle's body. He raised a massive paw, flexed his claws. Took up a pace, back and forth, always keeping his eyes on her. "I understand your words, Annabelle Potter."
"Okay, good. Then tell me why you're running around destroying everything, and causing a lot of serious harm to people."
"That is not my intent here tonight. I am fleeing."
"Fleeing? Okay," Annabelle nodded. Lowered her wand. She set her metal hand on her hip. "How about you tell me just what you're fleeing from? Maybe I could help you; that's kind of my thing - don't know if you keep up with current events in the world."
"I am aware of who you are and what you do for those not born human."
"Great. So? Fleeing. What's got you so spooked that you're accidentally causing a lot of destruction and pain around here?"
"My...your human term is wife."
"Yeah?" Annabelle nodded, patiently gazed up at the Nundu's face. "That's the word. What about it?"
"I'm fleeing from her!" the Nundu growled. "To you humans, I must seem great and dangerous - but to me, she is the great and dangerous one. Females of my species grow large enough to topple mountains. And she...is not pleased with me tonight. She wishes to consume me, as is customary in the...but I...I did not want to be killed, so I fled. I had been with her, in that...society for many years, but now I cannot stand to be. I left it, I left her, and she wants to kill me for it."
"Okay. Are you talking about a city, or a...a government? Or...is this some kind of cult thing that you ran away from?"
"I do not know - that term, cult, is not familiar to me." The Nundu shook their great, sleek head. "It does not matter what to call it. I am not a part of it, I have no wish to be a part of it anymore, and she is trying to eat me for it. I...I do not know where to go, I do not know who I should ask for help. I do not know how to find help. Especially not among members and governments of other species. None of us are used to even considering such a thing as an option in times of crisis...and yet we all seem to be doing it recently."
"Well, you're talking to me right now," Annabelle smiled. Softened her voice. "I can help you with this - or at least help you get to somewhere safe, and somewhere that you can actually talk to human nonmage officials capable of and willing to assist you. They'll shelter you, give you food and water, protect you as much as they can. I promise."
"And my wife? When she comes here after my scent trail, she will not just cause the occasional damages and injuries as I have done tonight: she will trample over your entire city, and she will likely breathe on it."
"Right - toxic breath - I know your species has that," Annabelle nodded. "Okay, here's what we're going to do: I'm going to let this barrier down for you, and we're going to not provoke anybody into shooting you with a lot of guns, or blasting you with a lot of spells - there are a few mage citizens here, and US Divison Aurors are going to be on the scene in a minute here. Here's what you're going to do for me: you're going to stay calm, stay relaxed, and you're going to tell the authorities everything you just told me. You're going to ask them for sanctuary, for protection, and they're going to give it to you. And if they don't...I'll personally take you someplace you won't have to worry about your wife finding you."
"I will accept human protection."
"Okay." Annabelle flourished her wand, undid all her enchantments. "Try and make yourself appear nonthreatening, would you?"
"Yes." A pause. "What will your people do when she comes? She will not stop following me, even if you move me, or surround me with your magic or your metal weapons. She will come, and she will kill to reach me."
"No clue," Annabelle said honestly. "I don't think anyone is prepared for some Godzilla Kaiju shit to go down anywhere - but we're going to prepare as best we can for it anyway."
"I'll try to help in whatever way I can."
"Thank you."
When Annabelle reappeared in the safehouse, James Phelps was waiting for her.
"What?" she asked.
James held up a phone, stretched out on a cord. "Long story short, there was a call from your Magical Britain Minister to our nonmagic president, who called the FBI, who called us, who put a call through between us and this Minister for Magic. He's just looking to talk with you. Might be good, might be bad - I don't know, kid. But if it's anything bad, tell me and I'll try to help."
Annabelle stepped over to James, taking the phone from him. "Thanks," she said. She raised the phone to her ear. "Hello, Minister Fudge?"
"Ms. Potter," Fudge's familiar voice came, in equally as familiar, friendly tones. Like nothing at all had happened in the world between now and the last time they'd met. "You've made me quite the busy man these past many weeks."
"I'm not going to apologize," Annabelle stated calmly, as neutrally as she could. "And if you're hoping to ask me to come back to the Ministry for trial and sentencing, you'd better have your torture bullshit prison system sorted out already - if you haven't, forget about me even thinking about showing up."
"We're still working on that," Fudge said airily. "I'm sure you're doing just fine - wherever you are - and I'll not inquire! No, no, why I'm calling you on this...telephone, is because I..you see, I'd like to offer you a job."
What? "You won't just try to arrest me the moment I show up?"
"No, I promise you," Fudge said quickly, all assurance. "Annabelle, my dear, if you were to take this job offer of ours, you'd be granted something of a pardon on my personal behalf - I do have the power to do that sort of thing, you know. You'd be free to return to our society, free to do as you wish, live as you wish - I'm sure you miss home? Being able to roam freely?"
"You're saying free a lot."
"Yes, well, I know it's something you've always put high value in, particularly when it comes to yourself..."
"Because I spent the first ten years of my life in a little cupboard," Annabelle stated. "Right. Well, I'm not hurting for money here, so I assume you'll be getting a few benefits out of this pardon deal of yours?"
"It is partially self-interest, yes. But it is also coming from a standpoint of optimism and altruism! We want to offer you the position of official liaison between the British Ministry of Magic and the various nonhuman societies around the world. Ambassador, if you will."
"Ambassador Potter...Sounds a bit stuffy."
"How about envoy, then? Envoy Potter?"
"Much more sleek and stripped down," Annabelle grinned to herself. "I could possibly accept that. What all would this position entail?"
"Well, besides being at the forefront of our relations with nonhuman governments, you'd also be sometimes required to...put in a good showing. The things you usually do, only with a few cameras pointed your way. Show the world exactly how you are: compassionate, open-minded, empathetic."
"Because the Ministry isn't coming off that way, so you need me to be your public face, change that for you?" Annabelle bluntly ventured.
"Yes," Fudge replied, a slight hesitation. Anxious. "Of course, I'm sure you're well aware that we've made our mistakes as a government, as a society, over the course of our history - and such mistakes aren't easily forgotten by...by many...people out there. But we have begun to make changes, concessions, upon realizing our...errors. And now we would like to start making greater strides, bigger showings toward the other nations that we're very committed to continuing to change and improve. And that, we think, needs to start with reaching out to the downtrodden, damaged, or otherwise oppressed nonhuman societies. Sort of build them up after we kept them down, repair the things we broke for them, you understand?"
"I do," Annabelle said quietly. "And that sounds...like a reasonable plan of action, moving forward. Future generations will probably look back on you as the Minister who was progressive, and sympathetic to those who need it, and who led people out of a transitionary period and into a new era of prosperity, trade, and relations."
"Yes, yes, I imagine that would be so," Fudge agreed quickly. "So you see...Annabelle...would you be willing to help me do that? Help me keep our...our nation on track, so to speak? Help them push through this trying time and into a better one for all?"
"Yeah." Annabelle answered, after a moment's thought. "Like you said, just give me the pardon, just let me keep doing my thing - only now with actual, official government backing - and things for you will keep on looking up. You'll reach the end of your term and become immortalized as one of the greatest Ministers in history or whatever. If you stick with it, and you don't backslide here. No matter your own personal views on things. You understand me, Minister?"
"Oh, I'm well aware of the concept of- of keeping up appearances, don't worry about that. Thank you, then; we have a deal here." Fudge paused. "If you would, while I still have you, I'd like to...sort of task you with something, a first mission of sorts. You see, I think, given the severity of the Azkaban fiasco, and the issues that surround it - your issues with it - I think you should start with the Dementors. I assure you that we have been working very hard to deal with that little problem, to decommission its use as a prison these past few weeks! In fact, we have already erected extremely powerful, ancient barriers around that island, and now it only serves its original purpose that it had when it was first discovered so long ago: being the home of the Dementor species."
"Right," Annabelle encouraged. "What exactly do you want me to do, or say to them?"
"Well, just...given their nature, and how averse they usually are to ever communicating with mages, we've kept barriers raised around that area of sea, sort of kept them confined to their territory, as I've said. A border control, a blockade, if you'd like to think of it that way. For everyone's safety. Most of the other mage nations have agreed with the action, but...still, quite baffling, there are a few muggle...nonmagic nations rather, who still don't agree with it. They were pacified when we put an end to using it, and the Dementors, as a prison and as prison wards, but some of them still think that we need to try and open up a dialogue with them. Work something out - I'm not sure what, however. The original deal we had with the Dementors was near impossible to wrangle out of them to begin with, and individual Dementors have gone against the deal many times before. So I'd...I'd ask you, Annabelle dear, if you could go to Azkaban, go to the Dementors, and try to establish relations with them again."
"Anything specific, or just in general?"
"In general, I think, for now. Just trying...talking with them. Maybe weekly visits? Just a pop over once every few days? Eventually, it would be very good for us if you could influence them to...change themselves. Make a new deal with them, if you have to. Something like: turn yourselves into something resembling a restrained, civilized society, or face the consequences. The consequences being what we originally threatened them with to ensure they honored the deal: mass containment via transfigured prisons and unbreakable boxes. Dementors, see, are not intangible, and so they do have a real reason to fear being trapped for the eternity of their amortal lives at the bottom of the ocean, for example, or deep inside the Ministry. And they know we are capable of that if we all come together; they understand strength in numbers is what we have over them. Now the nonmagics, they don't really truly understand Dementors. What they're capable of. So it's- understandable. Their perspective is...a little naive, charming even, but it's not the reality of things as we know it to be. So, yes, I'd also ask you to maybe bring a few nonmagic ambassadors out to meet the Dementors with you once or twice. Show them how it feels, show them what they're like. Of course, I wouldn't ask you to just blindly bring such important government officials into the middle of a swarm of Dementors - maybe if you could get particularly close to one Dementor, that would be safe enough?"
"I'll take all of this under consideration, and I'll get started within the next six hours," Annabelle said finally. "Consider me hired, Minister."
"Thank you, Annabelle!" Fudge oozed praise.
"You're welcome - though, I'm not doing this for your public image: I'm doing it for the Dementors themselves. Because they deserve to have a first chance to try to become something better, something more."
"Oh, I'm well aware," Fudge said honestly, seriously. "Annabelle - while I don't truly agree with your view of things, I do appreciate your efforts for what you've accomplished as matter of pure fact, and I'm impressed with it all. I've been impressed by you. You've done more in a few months than anyone has done in decades or centuries of life - except for perhaps Albus Dumbledore or Nicholas Flamel, of course. And I respect your dedication, and I respect your skillset. I really do. I just wanted you to know that: I respect and admire you, even if I don't agree with your worldviews."
"I appreciate the honesty," Annabelle returned. "And I appreciate you for not smiling at me through your teeth. You told me what you wanted, why you wanted it, and how it could benefit you as much as me, as well as legitimately benefit other people. Which is fine with me - I'll just be looking more toward the benefit it affords others rather than how it reflects on you."
"That right there - that's what I admire about you, my dear lady. I haven't had anyone talk to me like that since my early Ministry years."
"Right. Give me that pardon, and I'll see you around." Without further ado, Annabelle hung up the phone. She cast a nonverbal summoning charm, and her jacket zoomed down from upstairs and into her hand. She looked at James, pulling her arms through the sleeves. "I'm going out again - I'm an envoy now for my home government."
James smiled at her, a little exasperated. "I heard. Also heard you got a pardon; well done, kid - unless it's some kind of trap."
"If it is just a way to get me, I'm not going to walk into it like an idiot," Annabelle assured. "I'll walk into it with a few contingency plans - I love making those."
"That's the spirit, kid."
November 1st, 1998 - 7:49 PM - Azkaban Island
Annabelle stepped off the motorboat and onto the island's dark sands.
"Hey!" she called out to the nearest Dementor swarm, waving an arm in a wide sweep. "Could one or two you please come over here for me?"
Annabelle didn't get one or two - she got several times that. Easily two dozen of them glided straight for her, at superhuman speeds that were nearly too fast for her eyes to track; all she was were blurry figures and motion trails left behind.
Annabelle felt the familiar chill grip her soul. She felt her throat closing up. She heard the voices...felt the terror...
"...not getting anything to eat today until you clean up this mess..."
A hand across her face...
Hands that found her in her bed, hands that drifted over her skin...under the thin little pieces of fabric she had to herself...long nails that curled, dug in deep inside her...
Annabelle clenched her metal fist. Lifted her head and stared up into the shrouded hood of the Dementor in front of her, as several others closed in with outstretched, scabby hands. "All of you are going to stop this, right now. You're going to stand there, you're going to be still, and you're going to listen to what I have to say. Or I'll cast the Patronus, and I'll shove all of you into little coffins and drop you all down into the bottom of this ocean. And after that? Well, who knows? I might forget just where I put you all..."
Several long, admittedly terrifying moments passed Annabelle by. Then- the Dementors retreated to a respectable distance, their arms lowering, their hands disappearing into the folds of their cloaks.
"Better," Annabelle said, and she smiled. She crossed her arms, gazed up at the Dementor that was directly in front of her. "You and me," she went on, pointing an absent finger from her chest. "let's talk." She drew her wand, transfigured a nearby rock into a plain old office chair to seat herself in. She rested her hands on her thighs, her wand still held between her fingers. The Dementor simply inclined their hood further, to keep her in their field of view proper.
Human...mage...why are you here? a voice rose in Annabelle's mind. Toneless, soft, pitched high so as to be nearly feminine. At least, what a human would attribute to being a feminine sort of voice. Who knew anything about Dementor biology? They could have been male, or both, or neither - or sometimes one, neither or both, and sometimes otherwise. Your Ministry of Magic broke our agreement - and decided to imprison us here instead. Were they trying to starve us? We would have thought your kind had learned by now that we cannot die of starvation. Neither can we die from the passage of time, as your kind does. Why, then, do you keep us here? Here, alone?
"Because you don't have any laws, or rules to yourselves," Annabelle said truthfully, leaning forward in her seat. "You're wild, and dangerous. You cause emotional and mental harm to people when you feed off of their emotions - when you draw out and destroy their optimism, their good memories, their love and their hope, and their joy. When you do that, just so you can get at the negativity inside them - or their soul - you're hurting people. It's torture, and in most of our societies that's been called wrong. Immoral. Illegal. Punishments are handed out to those who would commit these acts."
So, you are attempting to punish us. The Dementor wasn't asking a question. You allowed us to before. You aided us in this "torture." You gave us a constant supply of emotion - though you did refuse to let us have the souls. We have faced punishment for that before.
"Humanity...isn't a single entity," Annabelle explained, patient and calm as she could be given the situation. It was cold. Wet. And the Dementor's presence, even when they were actively suppressing and restraining themselves...Annabelle could already feel herself weakening. Magically, and even physically. She shifted in her seat a little, tried to nonchalantly slap some life into her flesh and blood hand again. "And humanity doesn't just stay the same all the time. Humans change, individuals change, they improve. They...become better than they were. And better than we were, when it comes to the situation here, is that we're not going to allow people to keep being imprisoned here and acting as living emotion batteries for your species."
"Because I know about your species," Annabelle carried on, raising her volume a little. Putting strength into it. "and I know that while you are amortal - can't die of old age, can't die of starvation or dehydration, can't even be destroyed by any known magical or nonmagical means - I know you can be contained and locked away physically, as is happening right now, and has happened before. That's only one of two things you fear in this world. One: being imprisoned for eternity. And two: being deprived of any emotional sustenance, the energy of the soul. Because while you can't starve to death, if you don't have that you do go into a dormant state. You just...drift around, aimless, unable to really move, or even speak. Of course, achieving this with you is nearly impossible, because as long as there's a single person or even an animal within a radius of twenty to thirty meters of you, you can leech off them and get back to being active again."
"Doesn't matter if it's a dog, a cat, a fox, owl, crow, mouse, and even some insect or arachnid species - doesn't matter. If they're in your vicinity, you'll be back in action again."
Your knowledge of us is correct. Are you telling us this knowledge to threaten us?
"Me? No." Annabelle sat back in her chair. Tapped her fingers against her knees. "I just want us to have an honest discussion here about a few different topics on my mind today."
We have limited reserves of energy, since your Ministry broke the deal and removed our food supply. Many of us have already started to go dormant.
"I realize that, and I know I'm probably asking a lot, to ask you to use some of that talking with me here. But if you can manage it, it might be worth it for your people. Or...maybe at least some individuals, or small groups. I'm not sure yet."
If you are here to make another deal with us, do not waste your energy, human: we will not abide by any terms you could set for us. It is evident to us now that humans cannot be trusted to maintain an agreement.
"Some humans, yes," Annabelle agreed. "Just like some Dementors over the years haven't stuck to the terms of the old agreement. But I'm not talking about my species and yours, in general. I'm just talking about you and me - right here, right now, today. That's all. I'm just Annabelle Potter, and you're just...sorry, do you have a name?"
On our own? No. But, a certain sub-collection of our kind has adopted the concept from your human societies, and they have assigned us with a "name."
"Why?"
They feel...curiosity. Some of us have begun...feeling, in these past weeks. It is always the ones known to have consumed the highest number of souls. They themselves have started to self-generate emotions. We will show you.
"What happens to these emotional Dementors? Do they try to feed off themselves in some kind of endless feedback loop, or-"
We will show you. Come.
Annabelle followed the Dementor further inland. To the old fortress, massive and standing tall above all else. They entered it, began navigating the depths, the cold, stone, dark corridors.
Down several flights of stairs, they emerged out into a large, empty chamber.
Too many Dementors to count were all crowding around something in the center of the room.
Annabelle could hear their rattling breaths, and she could heard...something else. It sounded like a high-pitched whine or whistle. Intense, but low in volume. Almost barely heard.
The Dementors parted, and Annabelle was able to see past them all to the middle of the room. She saw a Dementor, in appearance like any other - but not in behavior. Not in action. The central Dementor was down on the floor, robes pooled around them. Scabby, dead, open palms slapped at stone in a chaotic, shaky sort of rhythm. Their hooded head was bowed low. For the first time in the entire history of their species' existence, a Dementor was experiencing pain.
Annabelle lifted her wand in a flash, and she screamed out to the world: "Expecto Patronum!"
Her silver stag exploded into existence, waves of energy casting off it, slamming into the Dementors and pinning them against the walls.
Annabelle stalked forward, right up to the downed Dementor. She dropped to her knees in front of them, reached out and grabbed their robed shoulder - it was freezing, and skeletal under her grasp. Under those robes. "Are you...all right?"
A human? Here again? Is the Ministry willing to renegotiate?
"Yes. But I'm not here to negotiate terms - not yet, anyway. I just want to talk with you all." Annabelle stood, looked around the chamber. "I really, really want to talk to you all." She drew breath. Let it go. Drew breath. Let it go. Her wand ceased trembling against her palm. "I understand what's happened here - or, at least, I have some kind of theory: Evolution."
What is evolution?
"Evolution is...how an organism, a person, an animal - a Dementor - changes and adapts in order to ensure the survival and prosperity of their own species. It usually occurs over the course of thousands of years, but with the aid of magic it can be much faster. And you...you seem like you've started evolving in response to your environmental change in a matter of months. Your greatest soul-holders started to create their own emotions, either because they've started gaining souls of their own, or they're using the souls they've consumed to do it. Either way, that's happening, and the rest of you...you've evolved into cannibalism. Feeding off of your own people's newfound emotional capacity."
We like evolution.
"Yeah, it's pretty great. Most of the time. But yours, this...? You can't do this. Evolve out of it again. Resist it."
Why?
"Because I came here to make an offer for you all: if you want to be let off this island ever again, you need to change. Change...as a society, a people. Those sub-collections, with the names? They have the right idea. All of you, or most of you, have to do that too. You need to make rules, and laws, and set limits. And enforce imprisonment and punishments against the ones who break them. You need to create an actual society for yourselves, and you need to start communicating with everyone. Making more deals, trading, offering and receiving services - gaining curiosities and enjoyable activities that don't involve harming anyone else. You need to do this...or you're never leaving this island. And I'm sure you all know just how long an eternity can last. You'll be here for that eternity. Even if you retain and resort to this cannibalism, you'll never leave this island again. Even if you breed with one another to your heart's content, at some point...you'll fill this place to capacity, and then you'll just...well, not a picture I want to paint. You'll be packed like sardines in a can, I guess. Unable to even move at that point. Pressed against each other."
Your reasoning is valid to us. We will consider the creation of a society, in order to continue the survival and prosperity of our species freely in this world.
Annabelle smiled. "Glad to hear it."
Another voice spoke then, deep and damn-near a growl in Annabelle's head. Grating inside her skull like a serrated blade.
Whether or not any of us creates a "society" to mimic after all the rest of these lower creatures in this world, it will change nothing for me: I feed when and where I want, and on whatever creatures I feel like.
Your continuing that line of old reasoning will see you to an eternity in a box, spoke another Dementor. If we can change our very nature, why can we not change our chosen behaviors? We just need to choose something else. We lose nothing in doing so - we cannot age or starve or be destroyed - and yet we would gain much, it seems. I dislike being trapped here, and I would not like to be here for much longer. If I have to change my behavior to be free, I will do my best to do so.
Annabelle seized the arm of the Dementor at her feet, pulled the lanky entity to their...feet, surprisingly. She couldn't see any feet, or legs, but...they must have been standing on something, because they sure as hell weren't hovering. That was some sad irony, she thought. Dementors affecting other Dementors to the point where they couldn't use their magical abilities, just like they did to mages.
"Uh, Dementor who I've been talking to exclusively - my tour guide - sorry, I didn't get your name, can't identify you! Where are you? I'd like your help in getting this emotional type out of here."
Pamel, came that recognizable, high voice, as a single Dementor raised an arm. Your guardian prevents our approach.
"Yeah, I know: it also prevents theirs," Annabelle responded, gesturing around herself. "I'll let it go for a minute, but only so we can get this hurt one out of here, okay?"
We agree with your plan - but we do not understand why this cannibalism should be stopped.
"Because you're hurting someone else to benefit yourselves," Annabelle answered, flicking her wand and starting off for the corridor; her Patronus dimmed, faded, and retreated to the far side of the room. But didn't disappear completely. "In any society, cannibalism isn't...acceptable. You'll need to make that one of your first laws, to protect your emotional types. That's a big thing in any society - empathy, sympathy, taking care of your own, and not doing to other people what you wouldn't want done to yourself...like being the main course at a cannibal feast."
We will take this under advisement. Pamel hovered over to Annabelle very quickly. They bent low and seized on the injured one's arms. Lifted them up into the air effortlessly. They hovered along ahead of Annabelle, taking the lead down the corridor. Annabelle's Patronus trotted along behind them, emitting a powerful aura to prevent any sneak attacks on them.
Of course, that didn't prevent anyone from blocking their path ahead - which, happened in the next few minutes.
They were just emerging out of the fortress and onto the island proper, when they found themselves surrounded by several dozen Dementors.
These Dementors...didn't seem to care about who Annabelle was, about the situation, or anything else. They flat out ambushed her, rushing her and seizing onto every inch of her body and squeezing her arms and legs so hard she felt like her bones would snap in two! Two hands found their way to her throat, while four others held her head straight, as several others took to trying to dig their fingers into her eyes, nose, mouth and ears!
Every single one of these hostile Dementors were breathing around her, draining her as a singular, giant force.
Annabelle thrashed, kicked and punched, elbowed and kneed, and even tried biting. She clenched her metal fist and wrenched that limb free with superior strength, brought it crashing around and caved in the skull of a Dementor through their hood - they didn't pause in the slightest on taking this damage. She reached over to her other side and ripped a Dementor's wrist off her arm. She opened her palms and exerted her magic outward while she still could, knowing she'd only have enough strength for one or two attacks. Her first move was to induce massive tendrils of plantlife to emerge out of the ground, spurring on little leaves and thickets into great tentacles to aid her. These tentacles whipped and surged, scattering Dementors and batting them away from her, even wrapping around their bodies and forcibly lifting them away. Others simply impaled Dementors through their bodies and pulled them far away.
With her surroundings cleared up a great deal, Annabelle exerted her magic a second time; the dead hands holding her legs were forcibly detached, as great pillars of rock shot up to carry the Dementors high.
Freed now, Annabelle took up a hard sprint for the edge of the island. She'd put some considerable distance between herself and the Dementors when she turned back to survey the situation. Many of them were starting to get free of the plants, starting to come back at her. And Pamel and the injured one were-
Pamel was being restrained by others, and the injured one was being dragged back inside the fortress.
"Expecto Patronum!" Annabelle yelled again, summoning her Patronus once more. Bright and powerful it appeared for her. "Go, save Pamel and get the hurt one free!" she instructed it quickly. The giant stag didn't even give her a bow or a nod - just charged, leaping across the ground without disturbing it, and at unbelievable speeds. Her Patronus tossed its great horns and sent the Dementors holding Pamel flying. Pamel themself shrank down to the ground at being right next to such a powerful force of positivity, visibly and viscerally weakening in its presence.
Annabelle...! Pamel cried out in her mind, sounding afraid? Get the guardian away from me - I cannot...I cannot- please?
Please?
Annabelle rushed forward, even as several more Dementors came shooting forward to intercept her. She waved her wand and sent one flying back across the ocean as if they'd been struck by a speeding train - near enough; she'd sent a conjured up, stone wall toward them. She created a mobile, domed barrier of translucent rock around herself that the others slammed into, scratched at. Annabelle waved her wand again, and massive stone pillars shot up from the ground and carried the Dementors skyward; and then, at the apex of their ascension, the tops of the pillars burst and became stone domes around the Dementors.
Annabelle reached Pamel's side, noting how they were already starting to float up again - her Patronus had taken off into the fortress, after the injured Dementor. "You're okay, you're okay - I'm sorry! I'm so sorry."
Why did we say that to you? Why is there this...in our core...it burns...? Are we to be an emotional one, too?
"Maybe," Annabelle said shortly, eyeing the fortress. "Worry about it later, all right? We get in there, we get the cannibalized one back, we bring them back here, we make a huge barrier to keep the aggressive types away. Plan?"
That is an acceptable plan - we will assist you in carrying it out. Your Ministry might not keep to its promises, but you will. We understand this.
8:22 PM
Behind a massive stone wall, a witch and a Dementor conversed.
"If I were to take you off this island, so you can be safe somewhere away from the others who assaulted you...would you agree to the terms I'm going to outline for you?"
What would your terms be?
"You'd need to stay in one place, a building, a facility. And I'd bring you animals to feed off of. But, you need to get a real head start on the whole laws, rules, and morality thing, okay? The cornerstones of a society. You need to start that, lead by example for the others who want that too. If I outline some rules for you, some codes of ethics, some lists of morals, will you agree to stick to them at all times, from here on out?"
Yes. As I remember another saying back in Azkaban: it costs us nothing to create a society, and adhere to the laws and rules inherent with it - and we will gain so much from it in return.
"Okay. Good. I'm...I'm going to trust you on that. And as long as you don't break your promise, I won't break mine."
We have an agreement. Between...you and I. Pamel and Annabelle. One and one.
"Alright. Let's go."
"Annabelle, kid, I need you to listen to me here: this is a safehouse, not a motel. You cannot keep bringing people in and out like this. We allowed Daphne because you assured us she was never going to leave, she wasn't going to compromise your location! We allowed Queen Nyllia because she had already just showed up in our backyard one night and we couldn't do anything about it, and she was coming from a place of ignorance. But now - now, Annabelle - here are these...nazguls here, and I need you to tell me: are they going to stay inside 24/7 too?"
"I can make more space," Annabelle said calmly. "I can make an entire stadium's worth of space if you want me to. Hell, I could make a small city's worth of open field for you if you let me, and literally contain it all inside a box."
James sighed, slapped a hand to his forehead. "That isn't the issue I'm having here, kid: it's the gaping security holes that you keep multiplying around us by the day! Our job is to protect you and your friends here, but you're making it harder and harder to keep on doing that! Sorry, kid, but I'm putting my foot down here on this one: get them out. Tell them they can't stay, tell them to forget about where we even are - you didn't tell them, did you? You just teleported here?"
Annabelle looked to Pamel. "Sorry, I made a mistake bringing you here. We didn't get permission to have you here. But I can take you somewhere else, as long as you still hold to the agreement."
I will still abide by our deal, no matter where I am.
"Okay. Sorry - take my hand again." She looked at James. "I'm sorry. But I'm pardoned now - why can't I do this?"
"It's not official - it was just something talked about over a phone call," James said, like he was talking to a toddler. "Annabelle, kid, if and when your magic government makes an official announcement about it, when it gets legally declared, and then our president gets the word over here about it, then yeah, you'll be free to leave, or free to bring to us anybody who might need protection - but you cannot keep just bringing people in at the same time as we're meant to be focusing on just you."
"Fine. I get it. Sorry." Annabelle took Pamel's arm, secured her grip on the other - no name, but hurt.
"Kid, I am sorry - I live my life to help people too - but I can't help them today. Not here. It's a matter of security-"
"Fucking security?!" Annabelle yelled, balling her metal fist. "You want to talk about fucking security problems?! I can go outside right now, right fucking now, and find upwards of a dozen goddamn spiders with webs set up around the house, or within five feet of it! The hell your problem is about security!"
"You said that it was 'like a one in a billion chance any of them ever learns to even read,'" James grated at her.
"They could still show someone where to go, they could still-"
"Okay, kid, enough! Go. Just go, all right? Get those things-"
"People!" Annabelle hissed, stalking forward and shoving her face in his. "They are people! Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence - and goddamn apologize for it, right now!"
"Back. Up. Kid," James growled at her, not blinking, not moving. "Back off. Neither of us here wants to do anything we'll regret."
"Apologize to Pamel, and I will back off."
"No, you'll back off because I'm fucking telling you to, kid - step back and simmer down."
"Make me," Annabelle scoffed.
"Not unless you make me make you," James retorted. "Get a handle on your temper, kid. You'll get into a hell of a lot of trouble if you continue on through life with it."
"Fucking make me!" Annabelle yelled, bringing her metal arm up swinging-
James moved, something slammed into her ankles, her arm was twisting painfully, and then she found herself somehow flat on her face on the carpet of the living room. James' weight was pressing down on her. Her arm was pulled up very painfully behind her own back.
"Get yourself under control!" he snarled into her ear, as she tried to twist and bring her enhanced arm about - but she couldn't reach him with it. "Get rid of it, Annabelle. Let it go. You already know you should, we've already gone over this together. Your therapist already has done it."
"Fuck you, I'll fucking-!" Annabelle's words were cut short as her arm was shoved higher up her back. She could only scream.
"What the hell do you think your kids are going to think about you? How are they going to be treated by you, if you continue on like this? Every time you get pissy, you hit it, you break it. So are you going to hit your kids, Annabelle? You going to get pissed off at them when they're older and throw them into a wall, huh?"
"Let me fucking go, let me up, let me the hell up right now, or I'm going to fucking break your-"
James shoved her arm up even further; she screamed again. "I'm going to break your arm if you don't let it fucking go! You don't have a goddamn excuse, kid, you know you can't do this, you know not to get this way! So why do you do it? Why are you being like this, right now? Why aren't you stopping it, stopping yourself? Why aren't you using those centering techniques your therapist taught you? Where's all that gone?"
"I don't fucking know!" Annabelle screamed. She lifted her head up and slammed it back down into the floor. Again. And again. And again. "I don't know, I don't know, just let me go, just let me go please, please I can't- please- let me up! PLEASE!"
Her arm was free; the weight disappeared from her back.
Annabelle jumped to her feet and threw herself across the room, slamming into the front door. She tore it open, clear off its hinges with her metal arm, and staggered out into the grassy field. Sobbing and gasping for breath, she fell to her hands and knees. She sucked in cool air, breathed in flowery scents and grass-
The ground shook under her violently. Thundering footsteps grew closer, very quickly. [Annabelle, are you okay? I heard screaming, and you're crying - I was going to break through the wall to get to you if I had to.]
Annabelle trembled, lay her forehead in the grass.
[Annabelle? What's wrong?]
She sniffled.
A long, thin, wet tongue stretched out, and dragged itself across her whole face.
[Okay, okay!] Annabelle half laughed, half cried, quickly sitting upright. She sat back in the grass, braced herself on metal arm, and looked Norberta full on in her slitted cat eyes. [I needed...air. Open space. I...I lost it, inside. I got angry, and I got my ass kicked by someone who doesn't even have magic - and he had some real good points I need to think about.]
Norberta lumbered closer, settled down parallel to Annabelle. She curled her tail around Annabelle to pull her against her flank. Her neck came around, and she blinked at her in sharp concern. [You have been extra moody these past few weeks. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were the one who's been laying eggs - not me, or not Anju.]
[It's not pregnancy craziness - I intend on never doing that in my life ever,] Annabelle said firmly. She leaned back against Norberta's scaly flank, shut her eyes. The feel of Norberta's great ribs expanding, contracting behind her, along with her thundering dragon heartbeat...it was so comforting. [It's- I guess stress? I thought I'd figured that out with Anju, I thought I was getting better...and today I just- I did a good thing, and the other day I did a good thing, and I...I just got a pardon, and I...god, why am I still so screwy?! Norberta, I feel like a kid again! Like when I first came to Hogwarts, those first few years, where I was so...extreme, and panicky, and- I feel like that again. That fragile, temperamental little girl again. And I hate it, I hate this! I'm not that girl anymore, I'm not! I- I'm so much better, I'm so good, I'm strong, and I control myself,and I know what I want, and I know- I know! God dammit, James was right: where the hell did all that go lately?! Why am I that girl again?]
[You're going through a lot of changes in your life lately - most of them brought on by yourself, against yourself,] Norberta mused in gentle tones. Her tail flicked, tightened a little bit more across Annabelle's stomach. [The whole world is changing, and that even scares me.]
[Everything scares you, you lazy scaredy cat.]
[True. But I mean being a mother, and a partner to Emerich, for me. I've never done that before, and it's scary to think about. Even scarier to think about actually going through with my goal of creating a legitimate dragon nation someday.]
[I'm scared of being a parent, too,] Annabelle sighed. [I'm scared of being a partner to Anju. And I'm scared of...myself. But I know that, I know it, so that doesn't help me figure out why I'm becoming a wreck again.]
[When was the last time you saw your therapist, again?] Norberta inquired. [Couldn't she help you get back on track with yourself?]
[Maybe. I don't know.]
[We're all dealing with so much right now. You can afford to go a little crazy - I think it's all driving me nuts too.]
[You've always been nuts.]
[Oh thanks, mom.]
Silence.
Annabelle set her hand on Noberta's tail, started absently stroking it. [I don't know what to do to fix this. I don't know how to stop this- this falling apart thing I have going on here. I don't like it, nobody around me likes it. I want to make it stop.]
[You've been doing a lot lately, nonstop, all the time,] Norberta spoke softly. [Annabelle...could I just ask you to please take a vacation? Just isolate yourself, don't think about anything or anyone else. Just be alone - or with me, at least - and do fun stuff. Play games, watch movies, eat bad human food that smells horrible and tastes even more horrible? You've always been a workaholic, but these past few months since graduation you've been pushing it way too far. That's not healthy by itself, I don't think. What I think, Annabelle, mother, is that you've finally just burnt yourself out. And I should have said something way sooner. You need to recharge, relax. Please?]
[Fine,] Annabelle agreed, slumping down in the grass. [But - I want to do one thing first! I just need to go see Maria. I need to check on her, see if she's had any...breakthroughs, I guess, with herself. Daphne asked me to keep tabs on her - wanted to know if her friend was getting better.]
[All right. Just this one visit, then you're staying with me for a few weeks! We could go to a beach? Or what about one of those movie theater parking lot places? I can go to those now! Oh, yes, let's do that a few times!]
[I thought this vacation was for me,] Annabelle giggled, slapping Norberta's tail lightly.
[Me having fun will help you have fun,] Norberta said quickly. [Fun is contagious.]
[Point,] Annabelle conceded. She shoved Norberta's tail off herself and got to her feet. She took Norberta's large face in her hands and kissed her on the nose. [Off to St. Jones, then. I'll be back...in a few hours. Maria might not want me there, but for Daphne's sake, I need to try to stick around and talk to her.]
[Don't forget to take the Dementors away!]
[Oh, shit, sorry!] Annabelle apparated back inside the safehouse, half expecting to find people inside rendered soulless. But everyone was fine.
Pamel and the hurt one were simply hovering where she'd left them.
Annabelle seized their arms, and immediately disapparated with them.
They reappeared in the mountains that Norberta and Emerich called home - or rather, where the cave was that they called home.
"Okay, stay here, enjoy your lives - start thinking about making a society, all right? Brainstorm for me until I can get back to you on it. And if you haven't hurt anybody in that time, I won't have to throw you in the bottom of the ocean and forget all about you."
Threats are not necessary. We agreed - and unlike humans, we keep our agreements.
Annabelle stared. "Did you just hold a grudge?"
Yes.
"Right. Sorry. Bye. I'll be back in a few days - or weeks. I don't know." Shaking her head, Annabelle apparated again.
8:37 PM - St. Jones Hospital, Limeswell City
Annabelle stepped into the private hospital room. The barrier raised behind her.
"Daphne says hi," she greeted Maria, who was laying on the lengthy bed in magical chains and binding cuffs.
"Is that all you came to tell me?" asked Maria, narrowing her pure black eyes in contempt.
Annabelle approached the bed, sat down in a chair. "No," she answered, smiling. "I was wondering how you were doing. You've been here a few weeks now, you've been talking with that psychologist-"
"You were wondering if I've decided to give up Ellesmere yet? Give up on my path to perfection? The revolving door of cops and Aurors keep wondering the same thing," she snorted.
"No. I was wondering about your family. Have they been contacted yet? Do they know their lost little girl is alive? That she's here? Have they come in to see you yet? Talk to you?"
A flicker. Shock. Pain. Horror. Rage. Spite... "No! They haven't. Not that it matters to me - I left them behind a long time ago. They couldn't even start to understand what I am now, and what I will be later. They're stupid, useless, they're nothing."
"Uh-huh. I bet they still love you. Miss you. Probably think about you every single day that passes. Wonder about you. If they'll ever get to see you smile, hear you laugh, tell you how much they love you. Hold you. Kiss you. And never let you go again."
"They did let me go," Maria snarled, her voice breaking. "They never came for me, they never even noticed I was gone, they never-" She stopped. Went still on the bed. Her face went blank. Her eyes dimmed. "They're nothing to me."
"Maybe now, but they weren't before. They used to be everything to you. Daphne tells me that you told her that you had great parents. You said you had the best, actually, if I remember right."
"I have a more enlightened view of what the best actually is in this world," Maria retorted. "And it isn't them."
"Yeah, you're lying to yourself there. But it's fine - just, eventually, you'll have to stop, you know."
"Go to hell."
"Some days I feel like I'm already there."
"I feel like I am right now, with you around," Maria retorted. She froze. Shook her head and sighed. "Just shut up and sit there if you're not going to leave me alone." She sank back down into the bed and closed her eyes.
"All right," Annabelle agreed, smiling to herself. Wasn't this something of a victory? Some tiny bit of progress? She hoped so.
After some ten minutes, Annabelle decided to let her eyes rest too. She leaned back in her chair, stretched out her legs.
Lost herself in thought.
Eventually, somehow, she actually fell asleep there.
When she woke from the nap, she did it slowly. She kept her eyes shut still - resting was nice. Then she realized... There was a smell in her nose - extremely powerful, nauseating? What-
She opened her eyes and straightened in her chair - and then she started screaming.
Body parts. There was a pile of body parts in the middle of the hospital room. Blood everywhere, muscles and guts strewn out of the ends...
Arms. Legs. Torso. Head. Piled on top of each other. The heads were on top of the pile, carefully placed as opposed to the haphazardness of the other parts, staring straight ahead - at Maria's bed. There were five of them: two looked like adults, two others looked like- like kids, and the smallest one was the one that held the open-mouthed, screaming face of an infant.
On the wall was a message, written in blood: E 5th Avenue N, Number Eight - they replaced you. Just like I told you they did. And now I've kept my promise, honey, although I'm disappointed that I had to with you. You were always my favorite. Now I'll make you another one to keep: If you really want out, you need to do the same thing for me that your parents did, so that, just like them, I can make up for the loss of all those years I wasted on you. 10:30 PM, Brinsburg Park. Bring me a new girl - you know my specifications - and let's hope she turns out better than you did. If you don't show there tonight, I'm going to be very upset with you.
Maria woke up, too, from all Annabelle's screams. She looked at the pile of body parts, just sort of blinked, and then she looked at the message on the far wall. She looked back at the body parts. Looked at the severed heads. Really looked at them; Her eyes...glistened with recognition. Her lips trembled. "D-daddy? Mo-mommy?"
Annabelle, in all her post-scream hyperventilating, looked at the clock in the room: 8:58 PM.
9:06 PM - Lisa's Apartment, London
Annabelle appeared in the middle of the small living room, along with Maria.
Lisa entered the room just then, in an act of supreme timing. She didn't look surprised at all. "What are you doing here, and what is she doing here?"
"Still have a tracking charm on me?" Annabelle greeted, frowning.
"I put a new one on you before you left the diner, after I watched you take off the first one," Lisa answered, flushing.
"Whatever," Annabelle muttered. "Lisa, I need your help with something - probably illegal, probably dangerous, and probably-"
Lisa raised a hand. Her scarred, small face scrunched up. "Save it. Just tell me what you need from me. You look pressed for time."
"Yeah. We uh- we have about an hour and a half until we need to be somewhere to meet Ellesmere. I was visiting Maria here at the hospital, and she dozed off and I dozed off, and when we woke up again it was to...her family, in front of us. In...pieces. There was a message on the wall, in blood. It said to bring a girl to a park, to replace Maria. Ellesmere's condition for...letting Maria go free. She's pissed."
"What do you need from me?" Lisa repeated impatiently.
"In your line of work," Annabelle began with utmost bluntness - now wasn't the time for anything else. "you've met people who don't really do things the same way you do, or for the same people."
"Such as the government."
"Yeah. Some other bounty hunters, some mercenaries, they work for crime lords, crime organizations. They do it for money, or for the thrill. Can you get me into contact with one of them? I need to hire one real quick."
"What are you looking for in your scumbag?" Lisa questioned.
"They need to be able to handle a sniper rifle," said Annabelle. "So, a half blood or a muggle born. Someone with experience with it."
"I can think of two people - one of them was ex military, and the other just loves killing mages with quote unquote inferior muggle contraptions to prove that they can."
"Okay. Get in contact with both of them, I don't care which one ends up getting hired. Just make sure they can follow a plan."
"Fine. You still have that look on your face - what else?"
"Polyjuice, and the hair of a random teenage girl."
Lisa's nose scrunched. "Any other context, Annabelle, and I'd think you were into some sick shit."
"I'm not my aunt," Annabelle snapped, unable to help herself.
"I know." Lisa gave a nod, then disapparated.
Silence.
Maria sat down on Lisa's sofa, her long arms draped across her legs. Her hands were together in her lap. She didn't say a word, didn't look anywhere - just straight ahead.
Annabelle walked over to her, sat down with her. "Maria, for the plan to work...you have to work with it too. Work with me. Ellesmere-"
"I'm going to kill her," Maria's distorted voice came, quiet and choked.
"I'll take that as a yes."
11:28 PM - Brinsburg Park
"Let me go, let me go, let me fucking go you crazy freak! Help, someone-"
Maria kicked Annabelle in the back and sent her sprawling flat on her face in the wet grass. Mud and grass caked her front. She turned her over and stamped on her throat, pressed down on her. Her pure black eyes gazed down at her with very real rage and disgust. "Stop it," she hissed down at her, bending low to seize her youthful, teenage face in her claws. She sliced across Annabelle's cheek, and blood spilled out. "No one can even hear or see you - no one's coming for you, no one's going to save you - so just shut up!"
"Why are you even doing this, please?! Please I just- I just want to go home, I just want to-"
"Maria." A figure materialized in the middle of the park, stood not ten feet from them. This figure...had no real figure. They wore bulky robes, a heavy and billowing cloak overtop. They had a loose hood pulled up, and a mask beneath it. They were faceless, formless. Even the voice was altered, distorted and deep - nearly demonic. "I'm pleased to see you've listened to me one last time." The mask tilted, the eyes behind it stared at Annabelle. "Stand the girl up - bring her to me. I need to make sure she's even a suitable candidate."
"I brought her," Maria said, insistent and quiet as she straightened, stepped off Annabelle. "Ellesmere- I - I listened! I made sure she was viable - I still remember how you ran those tests on me. I remember the incantations you used."
"What's going on here? What is this! Please, let me go, I'll do anything I swear, just-"
Ellesmere apparated, crossed the distance. With an impatient, frustrated noise she reached down and seized Annabelle's arm and pulled her to her feet again. A wand was produced; Annabelle found herself suddenly unable to speak. Ellesmere began waving her wand in complex patterns about Annabelle, and speaking long, drawn out incantations in a language Annabelle didn't recognize. A gloved hand ran up Annabelle's arm, across her chest, up along her neck to touch her face. A tendril of green magical energy was left in the wake of Ellesmere's roaming hand, a perplexing but harmless trail. This treatment continued on for several long minutes, until Ellesmere lowered her wand and stepped away.
"Did I do good?" Maria asked.
"She's adequately primed for treatment," spoke Ellesmere, pleasure in her distorted voice. "Not as much as I would have liked, but I'll make do. Goodbye, honey - enjoy the rest of your life. I keep my promises." She took hold of Annabelle's arm again, tightened her grip, pulled her roughly a few steps away from Maria-
The side of Ellesmere's head blew out in a spray of matter and blood. She collapsed on the ground. Following this, a great boom was heard in the distance.
Ellesmere's wand hand spasmed. Drifted over the grass toward her head...
Annabelle stomped on her wrist and kicked the wand out of her hand.
Lisa materialized beneath a nearby tree. She leaned against it, her arms crossed. Just watching.
A full thirty seconds passed, with Ellesmere's hand searching out blindly beside her for the wand beyond her reach. Little noises, puffs and gasps and half-started words came out of her mouth. Annabelle watched her for these long, long seconds, and she felt...she wanted to look away - cover her ears - puke and laugh all at the same time. But she never did a thing. She just watched. Stood there, silent, and watched. In this silent time, her polyjuice wore off, and she regained her true physicality, features, and height (though the increase wasn't much). It wasn't until the hand went still, and those little sounds stopped coming from Ellesmere's lips, that Annabelle moved again.
She crouched down and pushed the hood back, pulled the mask off. She stared into the wide, blue eyes unmoving. She took out her wand and vanished away Ellesmere's cloak and robes-
And found a perfectly smooth, utterly unmarred body beneath it all. A body with a stretched, oversized belly.
Annabelle shot to her feet and whirled toward Maria. "Tell me this is her."
Maria stared, wide eyed and in utter confusion. "It's not her! But- but she could be using polyjuice, or- or- or transfigured herself to hide her distinguishing features as a precaution, I-"
"When you last saw her, was she pregnant? I never saw that in Daphne's memories," Annabelle said, her voice shaking. "I never- I didn't-"
"N-no, she was never...this isn't...what?"
Annabelle dropped to her knees and waved her wand over the corpse. Medical diagnostic spells. The results came to her, floating the air. Swirling, glowing. She drew a shaking, quick breath, and cast a spell to reverse any charms or transfiguration effects: nothing happened. She couldn't- she didn't know how to- you couldn't apparate a pregnant person, not so late- not so late- so- not-
Annabelle disapparated. Reappeared in the middle of St. Mungo's.
"I need a fucking Healer!" she screamed at the lobby.
A robed mage with an insignia hurried over to her, wand coming out. "Annabelle Potter? Are you hurt? Can you tell me-"
Annabelle seized the Healer's arm in her unbreakable metal grip and apparated with them back to the park. She shoved them over and pointed down at the woman's corpse. "She's been dead a minute - save the baby!"
The Healer didn't need any more encouragement. He immediately began waving his wand, rapidly murmuring out incantations and making precise and complex movements...
November 2, 1998 - 12:15 AM - St. Jones Hospital
"I am so sorry."
"So am I. Whoever she was...fuck, this is my fault. Some- innocent person is dead and I did that to her..."
"My family is dead because of me. Ellesmere kept her promise. E 5th Avenue N, Number Eight." Maria whispered. "She always told me my address, she always reminded me that she knew where I used to live. Where they still did. Where she'd taken me from. She promised me, she'd go back there and kill them if I tried to escape, or if I told anyone..."
"Maria, I..."
A knock at the door.
Annabelle crossed the room and opened it, prepared for trouble with the staff's night shift. Her eyes were drawn down to a teenage girl in a wheelchair. Small, thin, and pale, with bandages wrapped around a shaven head. "Uh...hey? Maria, do you-"
"I don't know her."
"Okay, um, I think you have the wrong room here, sorry," Annabelle spoke gently to the girl. "Also, it's way past curfew, I think, so-"
The girl looked up at her, met her gaze. She smiled a light, weak sort of smile. "No, I don't."
"Sorry, sweetie, but I think you do," said Annabelle kindly, patient as she could be in her current state.
The girl wheeled herself closer to Annabelle, bumped into her legs. She reached out with weak, shaking arms and grabbed her arm. "Don't ever try to outsmart me."
"I'm not- trying to outsmart you?" Annabelle replied, shaking her head. "You really do just...have the wrong room - sorry."
"The woman you murdered in that park was named Jessica Cobert."
"I- what?" Annabelle stepped back, drew her wand. Held it at her side.
"You're not looking for Ellesmere Danton," the girl stated softly. "You don't even know what you're searching for. Ellesmere has been my most prominent and longest-lasting hand, but she won't always be. Jessica Cobert was a temporary hand; I only needed her for tonight - I didn't want to lose Ellesmere, I need her back at base to care for my subjects. And this girl - sweet girl - is temporary too," she finished, bringing a trembling, weak little hand to her chest.
"You're going to let her go," Annabelle said firmly.
"Yes - I've just said that," the girl snorted. Shook her head. "What you're going to do is stop chasing something you can never catch. You'll only end up getting even more of my hands killed, ignorantly believing each and every one of them to be...the true me." She laughed an airy, pained laugh, clutched at her chest again. "And I'm sure neither you, Maria, Daphne, and anyone in this world in law enforcement - sworn to uphold justice and truth, and all the rest - wants to run up a track record of cold-blooded murders of the innocent. Because that's all you'll ever find - my limbs. And my reach...is everywhere, and at any moment."
"No, it's not," Annabelle refuted. "You might plan ahead, you might be really damn smart, but you're still just one person. You had to set this up, you had to know where we were, where we'd be, and you had to set things up beforehand. That doesn't mean we can't catch you when you show up to set your trap and start your games - or set one for you right back. We can do that without anyone getting hurt."
"Maybe," the girl conceded, with another laugh. She smiled. "I'll be interested to see if you can."
"Why Jessica Cobert?" Annabelle gritted. "She was innocent, she was pregnant! Why- why her? Why not anyone else?! Why...a baby? Why?"
"That wasn't me, that was you," the girl said pointedly. "Speaking of Jessica and her baby, it's lucky he survived. The odds were in his favor, with magic on your side, but...still lucky. I wonder if his luck will hold as he grows up. And I wonder if you're ever going to go to him, and tell him - when he's old enough to understand, of course - that you murdered his mother. You're all about truth, freedom, and doing the right thing. He deserves to know, doesn't he? I'd say he does."
"You sick piece of shit," Annabelle hissed, clenching her fists at her side. "You- you fucking psychopath. You-"
"Do you want to keep Daphne?"
"What?"
"I already replaced Maria two weeks ago, tonight's show was just to deliver a message - something I planned on doing at some point anyways," the girl said airily. "Would you like me to replace Daphne too? I'll let you keep her, if you say yes. A trade - I keep my promises."
"No!" Annabelle snapped, clenching her metal fist at her side. "Don't...don't take any more kids. Don't hurt them. Don't. Please...just stop..."
"Do you really think I'm just going to go, Okay, because you asked so nicely, I'll stop!" The girl laughed to herself. "Why even bother asking?"
"Since you're so big on promises and deals, why don't we make one?" Annabelle said sharply, switching gears. "You promise me that you'll stop kidnapping children to torture and brainwash, and I-"
"What? What can you possibly give me in return for that? That's a tall order."
"I'll give you me," Annabelle replied, firm and quiet. "You can keep me for decades, centuries, you can use me for whatever you want, do whatever the hell you want to me...and I promise I won't try to escape, or run, or hide, or even fight back. Just...just stop it, please. I don't care. Just stop."
"If I had a different goal than the one I actually do, I might actually make that deal with you. But," the girl went on, a bit of a grin showing up on her pale face. "I'm building an army, so I can't get by with just one soldier under my command."
"Then- adults!" Annabelle blurted, reaching out to seize the girl's arm. "Stop with- at least stop with kids- start- taking adults? At least they'd have a fighting chance-"
"That's why I don't take them. Even Daphne proved that point true; she was right on the upper limits of what I'm comfortable with, at eighteen."
"Please! Please, just stop, please..."
The girl startled in her chair. She blinked. She looked around herself. Spotted Annabelle. Her eyes widened in recognition. "Hi? I'm sorry, do you know...how I got here? Last I remember, I was in my room, but it's all...fuzzy?" She frowned, pointed at her bandaged skull. "Might be because of this - I was in a car accident a few days ago. Or maybe it's weeks now? I don't know anymore."
Annabelle breathed. Let her metal hand uncurl. Goddammit. "Yeah...yeah, sweetie, um...do you know who I am?"
"Glinda the Good Witch, from the news."
"That's me, yeah," Annabelle said, laughing softly. She dropped to her knees, took the girl's hand, smiled at her. "Would you like me to help you get better?"
"How much do I have to pay you for it? I have sixty bucks of allowance at home, but they're not letting me out for a few more-"
"No, no, sweetie, you don't have to pay me anything. I just...I love to help people, when I can. And right now I would love to help you. What's your name?"
"Terra. Terra Newman."
"Okay, Terra..." Annabelle lifted her wand, smiling. "I'm going to help you, and I need you to sit still for me please. It's not going to hurt at all - but it might feel weird."
"Ok..."
November 5, 1998 - US Government Safehouse, Unknown Location
"...the teenager, sixteen year old Terra Newman, was found dead inside the home. She was discovered hanging from the ceiling fan by her uncle, Richard Powell, when he went upstairs to bring her down to breakfast this morning. Terra Newman was reportedly subject to a recent miracle, gifted to her by the famous witch, Annabelle Potter, who was visiting the St. Jones Hospital at the time..."
Annabelle shot up from the couch, feeling sick and shaky. She saw stars. Her breathing grew shallow and quick. She swayed on her feet, and she puked all over the living room floor. She fell to her knees, slammed her metal fist through the floorboard, sending up splinters and dust and scraps of carpet.
"No! Noooooo! No, no, no, no! NOOOO! Fucking shit, fuck - WHY?! Goddammit, goddammit fuck this, fuck them, fucking goddamn them!"
"Annabelle, what's going on...?" Anju's words trailed off as she spotted the television broadcast.
"...Terra Newman was staying at St. Jones due to a..."
Anju lowered herself down next to Annabelle, and wrapped her wings around her.