A somewhat Dystopian AU with some kind of magic and a HEA for Hulda (another fem. Harry of mine).

'Mummy, what are the Dragonfly People?' A young Lily Potter looked at her four year old daughter Hulda.

'They are a myth, my little freckle.'

'Will you tell me about them?'

'If you want to!' Lily sat down next to Hulda on her daughter's bed and kissed her cheek affectionately. 'As I said before, they are a myth but there are still several people who have claimed to have met them.' She leaned against Hulda's headboard. 'The Dragonfly People are said to be magic. They live in a world no one has seen, a world separated from ours. They are said to be able to transform into dragonflies and hide within their common kinds midst, looking just like them. Whenever they walk in our plane, they resemble us so closely that no one knows if they are human or not.'

'But mummy, if they look like us, how do we know about them?'

'Well, most of us doubt their existence but some claim that they do exist. It is said that they will only be recognised when they are singing because their songs are hauntingly beautiful, entirely otherworldly and in a language unknown to mankind. And their voices - She halted for a moment - Their voices are said to be so full of emotions…'

'Have you ever heard them, mummy?' The little girl asked excitedly.

'No. Neither me nor your father ever did. But you are truly blessed if you do hear them!'

'Blessed? Why?'

'Because you will never hear something so uniquely ever again. And it will change your life.'

'How?' Lily laughed softly.

'I don't know, my little freckle, I never heard them.' She pulled the blanket over her daughters chest and tucked her in lovingly. 'Sleep now, my love, for tomorrow is a long day!' Lily Potter switched the light off and closed the door quietly.

Balls were boring. Hulda never understood why her parents insisted that she came, too. Mummy said that they belonged to the upper class of society and had to come whenever they were invited. At least Malfoy Manor was a beautiful house at the edge of Hogsmeade, their busy capital. Young Draco - who was also eight years of age - was her cousin and constant companion, as were Atair Lestrange and Nymphadora Tonks. Between them, the parties were bearable. Supper had just finished and the dancing had started. Some ladies and gentlemen were exhibiting their musical talents in the courtyard, while the majority swept across the floor.

Hulda watched the mingling people and - quite bored - soon joined her parents outside. Lord Nott, a member of the crowd his parents were standing and talking with, boasted about his children Theodore and Pansy, who preened under his praise, and talked about fulfilling their every wish.

'I told father - Pansy interrupted his rant - that my greatest wish for my thirteenth birthday was for him to catch me a Dragonfly Man.'

'Whatever for?' cried Hulda, shocked. Pansy grinned haughtily.

'He shall entertain me all day long and - once I am old enough and as beautiful as my mother - he will fall in love with me and sweep me of my feet, wedding me and making me one of them, thus blessing me with immortality. Imagine, eternal beauty and riches. La! What a life that will be! '

'You are so stupid!' Hulda ranted. 'Dragonfly People cannot be caught and kept like a servant.'

'Maybe not by you. But father will surely catch one for me! As if you wouldn't want immortality.'

'I do not care for such superficialities.' Hulda harrumphed.

'What do you care for, then?' Someone asked. Hulda turned around and found herself looking at a tall and handsome man with shoulder length, dark hair - held up with a ribbon - and seagreen eyes, a well trimmed beard and very fine, dapper clothes. 'What would you ask of them?'

'I would simply ask him or her for a song and nothing more.'

'Nothing more?' He asked.

'Nothing more!' Hulda confirmed.

'La! I do not believe you!' cried Pansy and turned her nose up. 'You will surely change your tune in a few years, once you are as grown up as I am.'

'I won't!'

'Or maybe your family can't afford catching you one and keeping him.'

'You vile little…'

'Hulda!' Her father cried. 'Enough.' She closed her mouth and glared at her father. 'Go and play something on the harp over there. You practiced a lot and I am sure that it will be a much more pleasant entertainment than your argument.' Hulda had tears in her eyes but stomped over to the harp nonetheless. On her way over she heard her father chiding Pansy and telling her that Dragonfly People were not real and that Lord Nott could impossibly - not for all the money in the world - catch something nonexistent. Pansy went away, pouting, while Lord Nott laughed artificially ere removing his person from their group.

Hulda sat down at the instrument and plucked a few strings aimlessly, her mother's brow rose slightly. She sighed and played what she had practiced these past weeks. The song she had heard on the shores of the black lake that partially surrounded Potter Manor. The song that had haunted her and that never completely left her thoughts because it was so so sad. She never noticed that the conversations around her stilled and that the people surrounded her, listening and wondering. Once she finished playing, it was eerily quiet. Hulda looked up and found everyone staring at her with different expressions.

She would never forget that evening. The shocked and desperate looks of the adults. The confusion in the children's faces. The utter surprise in those seagreen eyes. It would be the last evening spent like this in Hogsmeade for the world as she knew it was about to change. The next day, a war would break out. A war that had been long in the making. A war about political power, resources and riches. A war that would shake and break their society and mold it into something totally twisted. Killing people and leaving many of those, that survived, behind. Like the Potters and their family.

A new era dawned with a fortress - Nurmengard - as its centre. It grew - under General Gellert Grindelwald and his lover Albus Dumbledore - into the new and only intact capital and city where only members of the Alliance were allowed entrance and a right to live. Surrounded by a large marble wall, guarded by his loyal soldiers, the Acolytes. Claiming all of the most important resources and leaving the rest of the world with nothing. The cities were destroyed and fell into ruin. People not accepted in Nurmengard fled into the country and started to built themselves simple lives without electricity and all of the modern technologies they were used to. Others, who had lost everything, lived in the ruins of their old homes, stealing food and clothes from those people more fortunate. Some didn't even mind killing to survive.

The Potters were a bit more lucky than many because Potter Manor survived the five years of fighting ere Grindelwald had secured his reign. But only because the Manor was situated at the foot of the mountains, away from the city in a secluded valley. Surrounded by either the black lake, the forbidden forest or the first steep hills. Her relatives, the Blacks, the Malfoys, the Lestranges and the Tonks came to live with them early on during the war. Saving as much from their homes as possible and storing it in the Manors many rooms and vaults. One of the vaults contained their silver and moneys. They used it to keep the house habitable and to buy animals and the necessary tools for farming. Their fine clothes were resewn into practical working attire and the sheep they now had were shorn to spin yarn from. Once a week, Hulda, went to Hogsmeade to hand out some of the food and the clothes they made to the desperate.

Over the years, Nurmengard grew in size. Millions of people - all welcoming of the generals regime - lived in the city, which had to be expanded. A second wall - this one built of stainless steel - was erected. Everything was modern and comfortable. At the beginning, food was brought in from the country but soon, scientists had developed artificial food, that contained all the necessary nutrients and vitamins and was easily accessible without having to venture out into the wild, as the land surrounding Nurmengard was soon called, and interact with the Lost. All those people who either were not let in or had been on the wrong side during the war. For those living in Nurmengard, life was good. Or so it seemed. Grindelwald was feeding them and kept them healthy and happy. They had jobs, earned enough money - in form of credits - never grew ill and had the possibility to be as idle as they wanted to be. But those who rebelled or protested were caught by the Acolytes and never seen or heard of again.

Outside, life was so very different. Many struggled and died and those that made it, kept far away from Nurmengard because oftentimes, the Acolytes ventured outside to abduct some of their fellows and bring them somewhere inside the city. Whatever happened to them was unknown till today. Rumour has it that they were used as guinea pigs for their freak experiments.

People outside formed small communities and rebuild the train tracks to cover long distances by using the old steam engines. Small schools were founded, where the children learned to read and write and count. Books were saved from the libraries and the knowledge was preserved and taught to the young to not be forgotten, knowing that they probably would never have a chance to use it.

Nature, despite its beauty, was a fickle mistress and never made it easy. The winters became colder than ever, the thunderstorms were deadlier than before, destroying many houses and killing the people living within. Natural disasters became a regularity. Floods. Draughts. Wildfires. Tornados. Destruction.

Now, twenty years later, half of the people left behind had either perished or been abducted and the survivors were well used to the whims of nature (and Grindelwald) and the few resources that were available. Hulda - although well educated by her once rich and noble family - was living the simple life of a farmer in Potter Manor, together with her family and relatives. Some had been lost to the war, like her father James or her uncles Lucius Malfoy and Ted Tonks. She had been taught how to shoot and fight during wartime and was never unarmed - just in case she found herself in bad situations.

The shores of the black lake were still as peaceful as they had ever been. Darkness was falling and little fireflies flew through the reed and over the waters surface. Hulda had just returned from Hogsmeade. The city became more dangerous with every passing day. The ruins decayed and walls crumbled, burying people underneath if they weren't fast enough to flee in time. The Lost roamed the streets and mugged people, killing them and taking all of their possessions. And - to everyone's horror - Acolytes were sighted today. Rounding up people to take to Nurmengard. Everyone hoped that they would be gone soon but no-one knew how long they would stay. Hulda had been lucky today and been able to escape unscathed and unseen. Her hood pulled deep into her face. Scurrying from shadow to shadow. Her knife in her hand and her pistol armed. She had seen some of her acquaintances being hit, subdued and taken. Fear had gripped her. Like everyone else.

But now, at the edge of the forbidden forest, back on Potter grounds, with a view of the black lake, the calm returned and the fear retreated to a small corner of her mind. A nightingale was singing somewhere in the distance and the small, cheerful fireflies grounded her. Hulda leaned against the trunk of a tree and closed her eyes. Taking deep breaths of the clear, damp air and listening to the nightingales song. A song that was soon joined by a very familiar tune she had only heard once in her life. A tune she had never forgotten and which she could still play on her harp.

Opening her eyes again, Hulda quietly followed the tune that was sung by the same male voice. She wandered around the lake for some time until she found herself on the edge of a small clearing. There in the middle sat a man. A man that was strangely familiar, as if she had seen him before. He was sat atop a log, wearing black trousers and a soft white shirt. His hair was dark and falling on his shoulders. His face was covered by a well trimmed but still wild looking beard. His eyes were closed. Hulda scrunched her face for a moment, trying to remember where she had seen him. Memories flooded her mind. Pansy. Their argument. The song. A harp. People. Surprised seagreen eyes. The stranger from the Malfoys Party all those years ago. 'Twas no wonder that he was so surprised. The Dragonfly man, whose song had been played by an eight year old girl. Hulda smiled and retreated into the shadows, listening to his sad, lamenting but oh so beautiful song. The melody still familiar but the words in a language utterly unknown to mankind. More memories flashed in front of her inner eye. Of a time long past but better than the now. She was so deep in her mind that she did not notice him finishing his song. When she did, her eyes flew open. But the clearing was empty. The man gone. Sighing, Hulda turned around and followed a narrow trail to her home, never noticing the small dragonfly following her.

Hulda was welcomed by her panicked mother, who had heard of the Acolytes and had run circles in the living room in worry of her daughter. A small dinner was taken in the kitchen - the rest of the family had already eaten - and Hulda was asked about the happenings in town. She gave them very detailed reports but never mentioned the Dragonfly man. They would not believe her anyway because those tales and stories had fallen into near oblivion.

Later, in her room, Hulda went unto the balcony, staring out over the dark grounds while watching the stars and listening to the lonely but still singing nightingale.

'Would you still ask us for only one song or have you changed your mind?' Hulda spun around and found herself face to face with the Dragonfly man.

'You followed me? Why?'

'You have been happening upon me singing twice now. I was curious about you.'

'I am sorry. I didn't want to intrude but I couldn't help myself and my curiosity. It will surely kill me one day.'

'I hope that it doesn't, Hulda.' A soft smile appeared on his face, making him even more handsome than he already was.

'I am quite at a disadvantage. You know my name but to me, you are still the Dragonfly man.' He laughed softly ere offering her his hand.

'My name is Rafael. No last name. Crown Prince of the Dragonfly People.' Huldas brows rose while she placed her hand in his.

'A monarchy? I hope it is better and more humane than Grindelwalds dictatorship.'

'It is, I can assure you!' his fingers closed around hers. 'Do you want to see it?'

'How?' He laughed and picked her up into his arms. Hulda squiecked unladylike and found herself up in the air. He was flying across the grounds towards the lake and a panicked Hulda threw her arms around his neck, hoping that he wouldn't let go, dropping her into the water. He didn't.

The weeks and months flew by and the Acolytes, who had returned a second time some days ago, prepared to leave after rounding up enough people to take with them to Nurmengard. Hulda hid behind a wall near their camp, helplessly watching some of her friends being whipped and beaten and thrown onto small, wooden carts pulled by horses. Cars were only used in Nurmengard because of the deplorable conditions of the roads in the wild. Many of them were destroyed and overgrown. Only horses could pass over them. She sighed sadly. Knowing that she would see none of them again.

A pair of arms wrapped around her torso. A wooden scent that had become quite familiar during the past weeks filled the air around her. Hulda hummed softly and leaned back in his arms. Inhaling his scent.

'I wish I could kill them all for taking and hurting those people.'

'I know. But I am glad that you don't. They would take you, too.' She closed her eyes. 'And it would not make a difference. There are many more of them where they come from. You would have to kill the General and those closest to him. And that will be suicide.'

'I know, Rafael.' She sighed again, her hand touching the weapon hidden underneath her dress. 'I know.' She wanted to say something else but was stopped by a loud commotion to their right. People screamed and others cried painfully. It seemed that the Acolytes had found some more victims. The voices got louder and Hulda suddenly heard a very familiar voice. Draco. They got her Cousin. She stepped out of Rafael's embrace and ran to the edge of the ruin, her eyes skimming the crowd of people that was approaching her hiding spot. There he was. At the back. His blond hair gleaming in the sun. Blood all over his face and clothes. A black eye. His hands cuffed. She heard soft footsteps and found Rafael at her side. He knew, without asking, what she was about to do.

'Please lead them to safety, Rafael. Especially Draco. I will distract them and try to kill as many as possible.'

'We will meet at the ruins of the Hogs Head. They will be safe there.' He kissed her affectionately. 'Stay safe and try not to get captured.' She nodded and pulled out her silencer, putting it on her weapon.

While the first shot met its target, a beautiful Dragonfly was seen lifting up in the air, shimmering in all the blues and greens known to mankind.

He got them to safety but Hulda did not make it to their meeting place. She was captured and beaten and deported to Nurmengard.

It was dark when she opened her eyes. Everything hurt and she could taste her own blood. Somewhere above her, light tickled into the room through some small cracks and where it touched the floor, she could see moist stone. The air smelled stale and foul. She was alone.

Hulda sat up slowly, groaning and placing her hand against her hammering head. Her other hand was feeling around for a wall she could lean against. When they found nothing in her close vicinity, she tried to focus and glanced around. A few feet to her left was a stony wall. On her right were sturdy iron bars. A prison. Wonderful. At her feet was a small bowl with water. It even looked clear. Good. Food was not to be found. Not so good.

Hulda heaved herself over to the bowl and leaned her back against the bars, draining the water in one big gulp. Washing away the coppery taste. Somewhere in the distance she could hear voices. Cars. Children laughing happily. She was in Nurmengard. For how long, she did not know. The last thing she knew was the fist that had knocked her unconscious and the malicious smile upon the fell man's face to whom the fist belonged. Thoughts of Rafael and her family - who surely were quite upset by now - flooded her mind and the longing and pain broke her down. Tears flowed out of her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She cried until no tears were left and she had fallen asleep once again.

Days later - at least she guessed it were days from the ever changing light in the cracks - a few men came and hoisted her out of the prison. None of them talked much and Hulda was not able to get any information. She was brought upstairs into an old bathroom and a few maids - probably prisoners, too - cleaned her up and dressed her in a simple, grey linen dress. A servant's dress, she guessed, for the maids wore the same colour. Her hair was combed and braided and a rag was wound around her head. She received no slippers or shoes.

The men then led her out of the bathroom through a labyrinth of floors and corridors, stairs and halls until they arrived in a large courtyard. The grass was kept short and other prisoners - wearing the same coloured clothes - were already waiting in the hot sun. While she was led to the end of the line of grey clothed prisoners, she recognised some of her friends and nodded in their direction. Some looked frightened, some rebellious and some resigned. As soon as she arrived at her designated place, she was commanded to wait and keep silent.

A few minutes later saw the last prisoner being led into the courtyard. The men vanished and a group of soldiers arrived. Taking their place behind them. And then he appeared. General Gellert Grindelwald. He did not bother to greet them. He only nodded to the commander who had led the soldiers inside. Said commander - she heard him being called Flint - took out a burlap sack and gave it to the General. Inside - so Hulda found out some minutes later - were different coloured ribbons. Ribbons that were tied around their arms. The General looked at every prisoner ere deciding on a colour. The fair and handsome men and women received blue ribbons. The sturdy and tough looking prisoners got the red ones. Some - the weaker ones - received yellow and the rest - like her - had green ribbons tied around their wrists. Once he was at the end of the line, he gave the sack back to Commander Flint and left through the same door he came. Without taking his leave of anyone. Arrogant bastard.

Commander Flint whistled once and four men and women stepped out of the line of soldiers and rounded up the different coloured prisoners. Her group was lead by Ensign Umbridge, a toadlike, petit, plump woman with a saccharine yet mean smile. They marched out of the Courtyard and onto a busy street. The stony houses alongside the road looked well kept, as did the house they just left. However they were kept inside was probably a different matter.

All of the houses looked the same. They were made of red brick and had exactly four floors. The rooves were black and the doors and windows painted in the same dull green colour. The people walking on the streets and pavements looked simple but finely dressed and ignored them completely. Hulda guessed that they were in a working class area. After an hour of walking they arrived at the edge of a market place. The Ensign led them over to a small square and ordered them to wait. She then went to the waiting crowd of finely dresses upper-class people and told them that the bazaar was now declared open and servants could be bought. The people flitted across and looked them up and down. Mentally noting the servants they wanted. But ere they could buy, a cold but handsome man entered the marketplace and strode over to their corner. He wore the finest clothes Hulda had seen in many years and everyone seemed to respect - and in some cases fear - him. The people stopped their activities and let him walk over to them. The Ensign greeted him enthusiastically ('Admiral Parkinson, Sir, it is wonderful that you are gracing us lowly servants with your magnificent presence! Please have your pick!) and wagged around him. Simpering and kissing his ass. He was probably someone high up in the ranks of the Generals regime. Hulda watched him warily and prayed that he would not notice her. He didn't seem to be someone who treated his servants (or better, slaves) nicely. He walked in front of them for a few minutes ere stopping and calling Ensign Umbridge to his side. The prisoners that were pointed out by the Admiral were led to the right and ordered to wait for their new master to give them further directions. After choosing ten, he was about to turn away when his eyes fell on Hulda. He looked her up and down and nodded to Umbridge.

'I take this one, too!' He barked and pulled out a pouch, opening it. He grabbed a few green notes and pressed them in the Ensigns hand while a soldier grabbed her shoulders and led her to the others. Hulda didn't know if she would survive this. Him.

A soldier was hired to lead the Admirals new servants to his house while his cruelness took his car and left to do something important. The trek through Nurmengard was long and exhausting. The sun stood high and burned every body part that wasn't covered by their servants clothes. Their bare feet were strewn with blisters and wounds. Raw and bleeding.

They walked for some hours through the working class area and its terraced houses until they reached a much finer looking district that probably housed the crème de la crème of Grindelwalds men. The houses were built of sandstone and marble, the rooves covered in the finest tiles and the window frames and doors were made of expensive wood. Some houses were as grand as some of the manors that stood around Hogsmeade but not as old or refined. Just pompous. The left many of those houses behind until they reached what was probably the largest one. It was double the size of the others and looked as ostentatious and ornate as humanly possible. Hulda shuddered. They had reached their destination, it seemed. Admiral Parkinson House.

Instead of entering through the front entrance they were led to a servant entrance somewhere in the back. It was well hidden from view. They were ushered inside and greeted by an elderly, stern but kind looking lady. She was wearing finer clothes but also had a green ribbon tied around her wrist. She was a slave-servant, too, but probably in service for a long time and chosen as head of servant's.

'My name in Minerva McGonagall' She said after greeting them. 'I am the Head Housekeeper and will appoint you to your task after a short test. It will show me where your talents lie and where you will serve the Admiral and his family best' She interviewed them one by one. Hulda was last and - after a strenuous testing - was found to be especially useful in sewing and mending of clothes. A skill she had had to learn at home. They all lived on a floor built for the servants (slaves), below the ground. They had no windows and fresh air and very small rooms with a bed, a chamber pot (they had to empty those themselves) and a small washbasin. A small wardrobe with their servants uniform adorned another wall. A tiny table and chair stood next to it. It was probably more luxurious then the dwellings the other slaves had to live in.

During the first few weeks, Hulda rarely left her workroom, busy was she with mending all of their clothes. During their shared meals, she found out that getting a green ribbon was one of the better fates. Blue ment prostitutes. Red labour slaves. And yellow - the worst fate - guinea-pigs for the Generals cruel and bizarre experiments in a secret faculty. Those often didn't live longer than a few weeks.

Sometimes during her second month she met the Admirals wife. She had just started sewing, when the door opened and a handsome and elegant looking woman entered. Black hair dressed elegantly, wearing a fine gown made of the best muslins and silks and laces. Her face still turned away.

'Servant, I need you to tailor me a dress. I have already chosen the fabrics and the design. It will be delivered to you later today. It will need to be ready in a sennight.' Huldas brow rose quickly.

'You are aware, Mrs. Parkinson, that I am only a seamstress and no tailor. Are there no tailors in town to do your bidding?' The lady moved from the doorframe into the light and Hulda gasped. Pansy. She did not envy the woman at all for her marriage to such a tyrann. Yes. Tyrann. She had heard and seen him do many terrible things. If a servant made a mistake - as small as it may be - he punished them. With violence. If his wife didn't satisfy his needs, he took one of the prettier servant's - no matter whether boy or girl - to an empty room and raped them as long and as brutal as he wanted. They were traumatised for life because he didn't only use them once but many times. Hulda thanked the heavens for her average looks and the ugly clothes that hid whatever beauty she possessed.

'Oh I know. But to my misfortune all of the tailors I usually frequent are exceptionally busy and I need the gown for the annual celebration in the fortress. If I don't wear the best, my husband will be extremely displeased.'

'So the bastard is hurting even his wife. I pity you, Mrs. Parkinson, and I will try my best to keep him from being displeased.' The lady nodded in thanks. 'Do I need to take your measurements or have they already been taken?'

'They have been taken and will be delivered with the rest. I will return in a few days to be fitted.' She turned around and left the room. Hulda sighed and continued her mending, waiting for another servant to arrive and bring her whatever Pansy had chosen.

It was hard work - not only needed she to finish the gown but to continue her mending - and Hulda had to work late into the nights but she progressed nicely and managed to create the beautiful gown Pansy wanted. Exactly five days later the mistress returned, wearing only a dressing gown.

'Show me the gown, servant!'

'I live to serve.' murmured Hulda dryly. She pulled the gown from the wardrobe and held it out for Pansy to inspect. The lady was quiet for some minutes, looking at every inch.

'Perfect work, servant! I will try it.'

'I do have a name, you know.'

'Sure. But we have so many servants and many of them changing every other month that I do not bother to remember them.'

'The life of those fortunate enough…' She helped Pansy out of her dressing gown and into the new one she had created, placing pins where needed and taking notes, unconsciously humming Rafael's song, something she did quite often these past weeks. Pansy stilled ere she turned around abruptly.

'This song seems very familiar. I have heard it before.' Hulda stopped her humming. 'What is it?'

'A lament for a fallen friend or a family member.' Rafael had not only taught her the words of his folk's song but also his language.

'Will you sing it?'

'You will not understand it.'

'Why? I know many languages. And standard.'

' 'tis in a language long forgotten.'

'Well, I want to hear it. Sing while you are working. Maybe I even remember where I heard it.' And Hulda sang. Thinking of Rafael. Missing his smile, his voice, his scent, his love. Everything. Tears silently streamed down her cheeks and she had to be careful not to soil the fine fabrics. Pansy just stared at her. Her face unreadable.

'Are you of the Dragonfly People?'

'No. I would not be here, if I were. I would have flown away in the dead of the night. No-one notices a Dragonfly nowadays.'

'But you met them!'

'Yes, I did. He courted me and we fell in love. We are even betrothed. But then my cousin Draco was caught by the Acolytes and I saved his life but was overpowered. I will probably never see him again. Instead, I will die in this miserable hellhole of a city.' She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand as good as she could.

'Hulda?' Pansy cried in surprise. 'Hulda Potter?'

'The one and only!'

'Oh my god.' Pansy climbed down from her stool and threw herself in Hulda's arms. As soon as Hulda had manoeuvred hers around Pansy's shoulder, the older woman started to cry.

Whenever her husband, the Admiral, was away, Pansy could be found in Hulda's little workroom, helping her with her sewing and asking her about her life outside Nurmengard while telling Hulda of her marriage with the tyrannical Admiral. A marriage orchestrated by her greedy, grasping father who had moved his children to Nurmengard during the war after declaring for the General. In the beginning, her husband had been indifferent to her but after a few years - their first child had just been born - he became violent. Striking her, whenever she displeased him. Raping her, whenever he needed to relieve himself. Never seeking to please her. It became worse with every year.

Luckily for them, Hulda was a superb seamstress and managed to taylor a very beautiful, tasteful gown. Pansy was the envy of every woman and the Admiral had no reason to resort to violence. Pansy never returned to her former seamstresses. Hulda took care of her dresses and gowns and clothes. Hulda also tried to ease Pansy's life a bit - mixing tasteless sleeping pills into the Admirals evening drinks or taking a beating in her - or if possible - the other servant's stead. Whenever she did, Pansy found her way into her chamber, bringing medicine and nursing her back to health while scolding her for her saving - people - streak.

Nearly a year passed by and Hulda had gotten used to her new life somehow. Her memories of her family and Rafael grew more and more distant but were the only light in that bleak hellhole, giving her courage and keeping her from falling apart.

Hulda had volunteered to do the daily shopping herself and went to the market every morning to buy the fabrics and threads needed at the house and to build a network of her own. She befriended some of the other slaves and servants and tried to collect as much gossip as possible about the happenings inside and outside of Nurmengard. She also made a surprising ally in Theodore Nott, Pansy's brother, who hated Admiral Parkinson for all the cruelties he did to his beloved sister. Theo was a higher ranking Acolyte, assigned to command the soldiers that protected the outer wall and those that went on regular forays into the wild. He told her - in secret - that there were rumours of a revolution brewing outside to dispose of the General and his regime. People assembled to liberate the Lost and those aborted and imprisoned under the lead of a young and charismatic man named Tom Riddle.

It took another six-month for the revolution to reach Nurmengard. Chaos descended upon the city and slaves were liberated and fought for the rebels. The Acolytes were pushed back and the General and his most trusted were either killed or imprisoned or able to escape. Admids the chaos, Hulda managed to get Pansy and her children out of the city. They hid in destroyed buildings during the day and manoeuvred through the streets in the dead of the night. Stealing food, water and clothes whenever possible. As soon as they crossed the last wall, they took sanctuary in the forest and rested for two days or more ere they started moving again. They crept around Nurmengard and avoided the soldiers - no matter whose side they fought for - as good as possible.

A few miles after they had finally left the city behind, they were halted by a group of soldiers and led to their camp, thus slowing down their escape and safe return to Hogsmeade.

'Sir, we found some strays!' The soldier said after shushing them inside a large tent.

'Bring them in!' A familiar, female voice said.

'Aunt Bella!' Hulda cried in relief. The woman turned around quickly.

'Hulda, dear!' She hurried over with large strides and hugged her niece. 'We have been searching for you for days now, hoping to find you alive.' She kissed Hulda's cheek affectionately ere turning to the nearest soldier. 'Ltn. Weasley, send a message to Commander Malfoy. His cousin is found. Also inform his friend and Hulda's betrothed, Rafael.' Weasley nodded and left.

'He is here?'

'Yes. He has been searching for you for a long time. He even came to Nurmengard several times these past months. He never gave up hope although it looked quite bleak. Fine man you have found yourself! But please sit down, all of you and have something to eat! As soon as everyone is here, you need to tell us how you fared.'

Tom Riddle's Republic was slightly better and less bloody than the General's but it was still unjust for many. Like Grindlewald, Riddle rewarded those who followed him and offered them their dreams. All of the others were neglected and miserable, not getting good jobs or earning enough to care for their families. The cities were rebuilt and the society reinstated. Thanks to aunt Bella and Cousin Draco, their families were rewarded and needed not to worry any longer. Pansy, to no-one's surprise, never remarried. She moved to Potter Manor and helped Lily while raising her children. Draco moved to the Capital - now renamed into Hogwarts - and wedded a fine young lady and former slave, Hermione Granger. Bella became Riddle's second in command and was one of the few who tried to take care of those less fortunate because she had been one herself and never forgot.

Hulda was married to Rafael in a small ceremony at the edge of the black lake. He took her to his home in the other world. To heal from the hardships she had too endure and to protect her from the wars and revolutions that were surely to come. They rarely returned to the mortal world, except to say their farewells to those of Hulda's family that had died and were to be buried.

Over the centuries, they had many children and their own happily ever after far away from the worries of mankind. And although the Dragonfly People ventured into the mortal world rather often, the old tales were slowly forgotten and a dragonfly was just that, a dragonfly.