There was no pursuit.

Whether that was because no one realized just what had happened or simply because the city of Regis Som was in so much chaos after the collapse of the spire, Violet didn't know. Either way, the next few days passed uneventfully as they began moving toward the border. Her own injuries were relatively minor and nearly completely healed by now. The only remaining sign of the fight atop the spire were the burns on her arm from the touch of Summer flame, and even those were reduced to faint white scars by now, joining the fading lightning forks from the Wild Hunt.

Sirius was subdued. The awesome Summer power that had shone through him was quiet now, but he was not unchanged. The curse that had plagued him was gone, yes, but so were decades' worth of tiny cumulative injuries and wear. Before, Sirius had worn his time in Azkaban on his face in deep lines and a seemingly involuntary resting frown. But now it was as if the years had melted away. Most wizards would barely have a wrinkle at his age so it wasn't so strange in itself, but Violet was pretty sure he had mixed feelings about it. Azkaban's shadow had always hung over him, and for its physical evidence to vanish in moments must have been a lot to take in.

As far as he was concerned, that was it and done. He had said, unequivocally, that whatever power that rushed through him had burned bright and out. Violet wasn't so certain. True, she didn't sense Summer's presence around him, but something told her it couldn't be that easy. To gain such power in a moment of need, only to fade without a trace was… too good to be true. Power never comes free.

The politician spends decades gathering oaths and favors. The wizard learns for his entire life. Her own strength had been won with sweat and blood; danger and death. And, beyond that, seven years of service. Some power might claim to be a gift and nothing more, but isn't the price unseen the dearest of all? There was reason folk tales and legends warned never to accept a gift from the Fair Folk.

So, she kept an eye on him.

The silence of their travel might also have had something to do with its pace. With Sirius's health restored, he was able to maintain a constant lope in his Animagus form, alongside Violet's own tireless jog.

As such, it was only slightly over a week after the events of Regis Som when the first signs of Winter arose. The day's warmth was a little less overbearing, the night a little longer and a little darker. Birds of colorful plumage began to be replaced by cawing corvids and circling vultures, and one night, Violet felt a single flake of snow land on her forehead.

Between Summer and Winter stretched a thin band of contested territory. Its exact beginning and end changed with the ebb and flow of the Courts, and Summer's recent advance had pushed it in ragged, patchy sections into territory typically considered of Winter. But for all the ferocity of the war, there was one place neither would dare fight.

"Merlin's name," Sirius said after skidding to a stop and rising into his human shape. "What is that?"

On the horizon, a single great tree dwarfed its surroundings. Even the rolling of distant mountains seemed small next to it. The spire of Regis Som might have been taller before it fell, but it would have been a close thing even then. The tree was evenly divided in two: half abloom with living splendor, the other dead, black, and cold.

"The Origin," Violet replied. "Satria's court is fairly close on the other side, but we'll want to give it a good berth. The only thing Summer and Winter both agree on is not to allow even the slightest perceived threat to it. There's actually a joint guard around it."

"Must be something special for that."

"Yeah," Violet said, something unusually soft in her tone. "They say it's the source of, well, everything. Summer, Winter; the fae; maybe even the Wyld itself. But it's never really done anything, so I suppose it might just be a huge tree. Some think that too."

"What do you think?"

"Me?" Violet said, surprised by the question. She looked up at the Origin, feeling something cool settle within her breast. "I think it's true."

Sirius followed her gaze, and after a long moment, he said only, "I agree." He shifted, a dog once more with fur now sleek, and bounded away. Violet didn't follow for a time, standing stock still without the slightest expression showing on her face.

For some fraction of a second, as he looked upon the Origin, gold had flickered in Sirius's eyes.

~#~

It was during a blizzard that Violet had an epiphany. It wasn't that lost people ended up in Winter far less often than Summer. They probably did. But unlike Summer, which was merely stiflingly warm, Winter's freezing cold was lethal. Sirius was a wizard, but even with every charm that he thought might possibly help, his teeth chattered and frost formed on his beard and eyelashes. At least there wasn't much farther to go now, and Violet was finding it far easier to navigate now that they had made it to Winter. Part of was just familiarity with the lands she had wandered in her younger years, but there was also a distinct sense of knowledge that she had no business possessing on her own. She smiled at the thought. It was good to be back.

It was dark. Struggling firelight held back the night for a few paces, but beyond that, anything could have lurked in the whirling snow. Sirius had gone to relieve himself a few minutes ago, but that was before the storm had really kicked up. Even with a light, you wouldn't be able to see more than a few meters ahead because the falling snow would reflect it into endless white.

She got up. The snow's obscurement wasn't such a problem if you could see in the dark, but Sirius didn't have that option. He'd probably ended up stumbling into a snowbank somewhere. Violet found his trail easily, but the footsteps would likely fade in the coming minutes, such was the intensity of the storm. Away from the fire, her eyes quickly adjusted, until she could see nearly as well as on a clear day. Sirius's tracks were straight at first before eventually devolving into backtracking and aimless wandering, presumably when the blizzard grew too intense to see through. Eventually, he seemed to have picked a random direction—facing almost completely the opposite direction of the camp—and set off.

In following the tracks, Violet soon sensed a fae presence. The blizzard hindered more senses than sight, but she could tell they were of considerable power. They were also of Winter, thankfully. The last thing she needed was to run into a Summer war party. She picked up her pace all the same.

Over a crest of iced-over snow she climbed, revealing a scene she couldn't have come up with if she tried. She was overlooking a bluff leading down to a river, so clear and fast that it broke the light apart like it was liquid crystal. Near the rushing water, Sirius stood stiffly. That stiffness could, possibly, be attributed to the curved bone blade held against his throat.

Violet jumped off the bluff, a good five meters high, crashing through the snow beneath and flexing her knees with the impact. The fae woman holding Sirius captive looked over at the noise. Her eyes widened in absolute surprise.

"Violet?"

Violet grinned. "Believe me, you are a sight for sore eyes."

Satria tossed her hair in a wave of white. "Well, of course I am. I didn't know you were back in the Wyld, but your timing is excellent. This poor fellow was just wandering lost and aimless, the dear thing. And he's a wizard, too. He even tried to curse me!"

She brushed Sirius's hair away from his eyes in a gesture of casual familiarity that made him flinch. He squirmed, unable to speak without cutting himself on the razor edge of Satria's sickle. Violet wasn't sure whether he was more uncomfortable with the cold or the way Satria was pressing herself against him. Either way, it was amusing. He gave Violet an exasperated look.

She sighed. "Funny coincidence, that. You appear to have successfully captured my godfather."

"Oh," Satria said, sounding distinctly disappointed. She withdrew the sickle and hung it once more from her waist. Sirius hurriedly stepped away, rubbing his neck and frowning.

She stepped over to Violet and casually pulled her into a kiss. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"It's good to see you too," Satria said, pulling away. "I must ask, though—what in Winter's name brings you out here?"

"I could ask you the same," Violet replied, frowning. "Shouldn't you be at the court? I heard it came under attack."

Satria sniffed. "If you had just answered the mirror, you'd already know. I don't know how much time I've wasted trying to contact you."

"I couldn't. The enchantment failed."

"What? Impossible."

"It did," Violet said. She glanced over to Sirius and shook her head. She didn't need to drag him any further into fae matters than she already had. "Let's just say that it turns out Maeve has a point. It's the same reason I haven't visited for so long. I'll tell you later."

"Hmm. Very well." Satria cocked her head, turning to slowly look Sirius up and down. A wicked grin crossed her face. "Well, well. Aren't you going to introduce us? I had no idea you had informed him the truth of things."

"It may have come as a slight surprise," Sirius said, deadpan. Brief introductions were made, and Satria's grin widened.

"Wait," Violet said before Satria could give him too much of a hard time. "Why are you out here?"

"Oh, that," she said. "The court's blockaded."

"What?" Violet blurted out. "Fuck. You can't get through?"

"Regrettably not. By the time I made it back after hearing the news, Summer had entrenched themselves too fully to dislodge with my retinue alone. We attempted it anyway, of course, but were forced to retreat. The plan was to regroup and try to find a way to contact Armen for a synchronized assault, but with you here now, we may be able to take more… direct measures."

A low growl emanated from Violet's throat. There were few greater insults than to block a Lady from her court, and even if Satria was presenting an air of nonchalance, Violet knew she was inwardly furious. "I'm ready tonight, if you want to go."

"Best not," Satria said after a moment's consideration. "Better to ensure it's done right. The camp's not far if you want to join us. It will even be warm, for those of more sensitive persuasion." Her eyes flicked to Sirius.

"I do apologize for the untoward treatment earlier," she added to him. "Do let me know if you think of a way I could make it up you… Any at all." Then she swept off, leaving a befuddled Sirius in her wake.

Sirius shivered. "Did she just imply what I think she implied?"

"Oh, certainly," Violet said. "But she played a trick on you, too. She's hoping you'll be so busy thinking about her you won't even consider asking her for a sack of diamonds." She winked and nudged Sirius with her elbow. "Although, really, gold and gems are hopelessly trite. Take her up on her first offer, and I guarantee you'll never forget it."

"Didn't she just kiss you, though?"

"Uh, yeah?" Violet said. What did that have to do with anything? "She's very good at it."

Something between a laugh and a cough escaped Sirius. "Okay, sure. I'll keep that in mind in case I feel the need to make an indescribably stupid decision." He shook his head. "Merlin. Let's change the subject."

"I guess." They started off after Satria. After a little while, Violet said, "How about vampirism? That's an interesting topic, isn't it?"

"For the love of—" Sirius cut himself off. "I told you. There's nothing left. No Summer magic. No faerie shit. The wings were cool, but not worth the freaking baby face. Stop worrying."

"Cool." Later, "Only, we're probably going to have to chop up a bunch of Summer fae tomorrow, so if you're having any kind of conflict of loyalties, it'd be better to know now."

For a second, she thought she saw Sirius's expression slacken. But then it was gone, and she wasn't sure if it had been there at all. "No problem here. Like I said, still got a bone to pick over the baby face thing."

Violet was quiet once more. But as the lights of Satria's camp finally came into view, she couldn't help slyly adding, "I think she might have a thing for your 'baby face.'"

Sirius groaned.

~#~

Thunder tolled in eerily rhythmic patterns as they advanced toward the court. It was a nice change to actually be on horseback for a change. Of the some twenty Knights who made up Satria's personal guard, about a third had been killed or too severely injured in the previous attack to participate in this one. But they did have two mortal wizards, as well as the second greatest fae of Winter. Violet didn't mind their chances.

Besides, she had it on good authority that Summer's power was far from its height at the moment.

As they crested a hilltop, the thunder was given a face. Summer's encampments formed a wide circle around the court, with pavilion tents and banners raised high. Clusters of artillery sounded off, lighting the early predawn with the flicker of fire. Smoke rose from within the court's walls, and occasionally, answering shells and streaks of magic sailed from it.

The outskirts of the court, hastily constructed outside the walls in response to the swell of the populace after the Massacre of Lords, had been methodically leveled to leave not a scrap of cover for any attacking forces. Every tree had been felled, every mound and berm leveled. The walls that had once seemed impossibly white to her as a child were now scorched and cracked but unbreached.

Satria rode up beside her, surveying the scene. "I know this must seem a shock to you, but the court has survived far worse than this. Thrice, it was razed to the ground. To that, this is nothing. It shall be restored to a greater splendor than even before, I vow." She gave a quick, familiar smile that to Violet promised imminent and profuse bloodshed. "Right after we ensure Summer's finest remain in Winter permanently, of course."

There wasn't much to add to that.

Preparations were brief, the plan simple. With the rising sun at their backs, the forces of Winter charged from the high ground to the entrenchments below, brandishing saber, magic, and carbine. Behind them followed a swarm of ghoulish creatures, drawn to to the banner of a Lady of Winter, and scrambling over each other in their haste to fall upon the enemy. Seemingly taken unawares, Summer's line buckled under the assault. Violet leapt into the fray, reveling in the chance to utterly destroy those foolish enough to invade her adopted homeland. Sirius added the weight of his own mortal magic, fighting with a desperate urgency, as if to prove that his mind was still his own. Satria was a storm unto herself. Her power had grown since becoming Maeve's second.

As they drove a wedge through Summer's formation, amid agonized screams at the touch of cursed iron, the defending forces of the court took note and sortied forth, crashing into the scattered and demoralized Summer fae. From there, it was only a matter of mopping up.

Those who could not escape were chained as prisoners, dragged through the streets of the court, to be taken to dark places of suffering. Others lay where they fell, slowly being dusted with a coating of snow. Several Winter Knights lay there, too. Victory was never free, but at least they would have the chance to rise again, unlike those of Summer who had fallen to mortal hands.

Efforts to reestablish order and extinguish the fires burning in the court began immediately, and Violet retired with Sirius to the manor house at the court's center. It was distinctly odd having Sirius there with her. Her life in the mortal world and in the Wyld had always been clearly separated, and for all that weeks had passed since they first arrived, that had been Summer. This was home.

At least she had been able to change her clothes. Although undeniably of fine make, it had felt vaguely sacrilegious to wear garments of Summer.

"So we'll be able to leave tonight?" Sirius asked.

"You'll be able to, yes," Violet said. "I'm going to stay for another few days."

"Why? I thought we were trying to get back as soon as possible?" He shook his head. "I'm really not looking forward to explain why we disappeared by myself."

"You saw all those captive Summer fae, didn't you?"

Sirius's eyes narrowed. "Yes?" he said hesitantly.

"Well, we can't have them living to fight again, now can we? I've got work to do." She smirked. "Besides, I could do with a little stress relief, yeah?"

There wasn't much talking after that.

It was several hours later before Violet managed to exchange more than a few words with Satria. The Lady had been away from her court for a substantial time, and she was constantly surrounded with subordinates waiting to report on events in her absence. Finally, Violet managed to pull her aside.

"I think you've been holding out on me, Violet," she said, arching an eyebrow. "I haven't seen you wield Winter magic with such power before. I almost called you Maeve in the excitement."

"That's part of what I wanted to talk about," Violet said. She paused. "Do you think… Winter is sentient?"

"Well that's quite the question. I daresay that if I could answer that, I wouldn't have to listen to Maeve's ravings."

"It talked to me."

Violet had never seen Satria dumbfounded before, but, as it turned out, the experience was quite gratifying.

"I see," she eventually said. "Well. You'll certainly have to tell me about that. I suppose that does explain certain things… I always did wonder how my talisman transferred the touch of Winter to you…" She looked away, lost in thought, before snapping back to Violet. "I am almost fearful to ask, but did you say that was part of what you wanted to talk to me about?"

Violet leaned against the arm of a chair. The sitting room's enormous enormous glass window had been shattered by some manner of shrapnel during the siege, leaving it open to the elements. It would have been trivial to fix, but Violet thought the snow building up on the carpet matched the decor rather nicely.

"So, the short version is that Maeve was right, I'm pretty sure Esrid was roaming around my school's forests and destroyed your mirror while he was at it, the most powerful wizard I know thinks I'm working against him, I found out that the Wild Hunt's real after all, and Sirius and I may, possibly, have desecrated the heart of Summer's power. Oh, and I'm pretty sure I slept with a goddess."

There was a moment of silence.

Then Satria rubbed her forehead, got up, and returned a returned a few minutes later with a full bottle of wine. "Stars above, don't tell me I'm going to have to apologize to that woman. I was convinced she was a lunatic."

Popping out the cork, Satria took a long drink right from the bottle. "All right," she said, passing it to Violet. "I think I'm going to need to hear the long version now."

~#~

The next morning, Sirius's bed was empty, having left the Wyld with the blessing of a Lady and her court. That he had done so at all put him on a list of mortals that was very short indeed. But even he had not been unchanged. Most who came to the Wyld left something precious behind. Sirius had taken something with him instead, and that might have been worse.

Violet herself remained for only two days further. Satria promised to investigate the emergence of the Wild Hunt after centuries of only the scantest appearances, restricted even then to the mortal world and to coordinate with Maeve to try to track down Esrid. Violet in turn would be watching the Forbidden Forest like a hawk. She wasn't sure if Esrid had come through because of the Forest's general essence of magic and conceptual proximity to the Wyld, or if her presence had somehow led him there, but if he returned, she couldn't afford to miss it.

Leaving the Wyld always had something of a level of imprecision to it. Considering it literally happened while you were asleep, focusing intently on your destination came with predictable complications. Violet had become much better at it over the years, but it really was impossible to be certain. Trying too hard actually seemed to make things worse— she would never forget the time she woke up in the middle of the English Channel.

So, she wasn't too surprised when her eyes fluttered open to reveal the arboreal paths of the Forbidden Forest. That was certainly better than the other likely possibility. She might have enjoyed trying to escape the Ministry after reappearing under the artificial arch, but it wasn't wise to tempt Fate.

There weren't any tracks in the area, so she assumed Sirius had arrived somewhere else, hopefully not in the middle of the Ministry. She oriented herself with a quick spell and set off to the castle.

She wasn't entirely sure what day it was after spending the last few weeks in the Wyld, but judging by the relatively few students out enjoying the crisp autumn weather, it was probably a weekday. With a sigh, she started up toward the castle, making up her mind to level with Dumbledore. Odds were pretty good that a wizard of his power at least suspected that the fae were not quite as mythical as most believed, and with Sirius knowing, the secret was more or less out anyway. She couldn't afford to have her most powerful potential ally turn against her.

She spun a glamour around herself, creating a near-palpable illusion of a slightly worn Hogwarts uniform. Her actual robes had been abandoned somewhere in Summer, and she didn't care to explain where she had found a dress spun of actual silver. It would be inconvenient enough to explain her absence as it was, though if she could get Dumbledore on her side it would probably become a nonissue. He had demonstrated an impressive ability to redefine even firm Hogwarts bylaws to little more than inconvenient suggestions in accepting her as a transfer student, and she was sure a little blip of an absence could be similarly brushed over. If not, well, it wasn't as if she had to remain a student. The arguments for attending Hogwarts were the same as ever, but that didn't mean she was looking forward to more busywork.

It was actually quite funny the way no one took note of her at first. An easy pace and relaxed demeanor went a long way to avoiding attention, and in her experience, most people went through life in a sort of personal haze, ignorant of their surroundings until they felt the point of a metaphorical or literal knife in their back. The few students on the grounds—mostly NEWT students taking advantage of their free time blocks, took no notice of her.

But her luck couldn't hold forever. Shortly after taking a side entrance near the greenhouses into the castle, she drew near a scrawny Ravenclaw with a long-forgotten piece of toast in one hand and a much less forgotten book in the other. He did a double take and actually shrieked a little, dropping his book.

"Yeah, yeah," Violet muttered. "I don't do autographs or interviews. You going to stop blocking the hallway?"

He gaped, eyes quivering slightly. "You escaped!" he abruptly blurted out, voice cracking.

"What the hell are talking about? You didn't just get out of Potions, did you? I swear, Snape must be a real lunatic to make the least ventilated part of the castle his classroom." She frowned. "Did you hear anything I just said?" Judging by his stupefied expression, he probably hadn't.

"What's this, then?" said an older Slytherin, coming around a turn in the passageway. "Merlin, Dunchad, could you be any more pathetic? Let's see, that'll be five points for damaging Library property, a point for general wretchedness, and…" Just then, he seemed to notice Violet, and his eyes locked onto her. He swore.

"You need to come with me," he said, grabbing her arm. He pointed his wand at Dunchad. "Confundo. Get lost."

The poor Ravenclaw's eyes glazed over and he staggered off, bouncing off walls. Violet pulled herself free with a haughty twist of her arm. "And why," she said, voice dripping with contempt, "would I do that? Maybe after I have a word with the headmaster I'll consider sparing some time for you."

The Slytherin grinned widely. "Headmaster? You mean the man who's wanted across Britain and half of Europe for kidnapping you?"

His words, spoken with nothing more urgent than a lazy, confident arrogance, nevertheless sent a jolt of lightning through her. She stepped abruptly forward, bunching the lapel of his robes in one fist. His eyes widened as his heels cleared the ground.

"What did you just say?" she hissed.

"I just told you, damn it. Let go!"

Violet met his eyes, deftly parting the veils of his mind. Without risking the intrusion being noticed, she could only scan his current thoughts, but it was enough to evoke an image of wizards wreathed in swirling red, storming into the Great Hall in the middle of breakfast. They had clustered around the head table and produced their wands. Then Dumbledore stood, and they were thrown off their feet, unable to react before he vanished in a column of flame.

She broke away, releasing the Slytherin. "They're saying he abducted me?" she asked, voice now perfectly level.

"'s what I said, innit?" he muttered, straightening his robes. He smirked. "At least, that's what they're saying in the paper. Same thing as the truth, really. Now, as a member of the headmistress's 'Inquisitorial Squad,' you really do have to come with me."

"Headmistress?"

"Professor Dolores Umbridge. I'm sure you'll be touched to hear that she was one of the most instrumental voices in having your kidnappers brought to justice."

His words were could have come from the mouth of the Minister himself, but their tone was derisive. He had known the story was a sham from the start.

"What's your name?" Violet asked.

"Selwyn. Come."

Violet bit her lip thoughtfully and nodded. "Umbridge, you say? Yeah, I'll talk to Umbridge."