A/N: Like my previous story, this is an OC from my childhood all grown up. She's very dear to my heart. I hope you enjoy this! (And don't worry, I'm still working on Bailey's story.)

Samhain, 81 A.D.

Britannia

Roman Invasion

Thunder roared.

The little girl jumped, clutching onto her mother's skirts. Her mother grabbed her hand and pulled her forward towards the standing stones.

"You must stay close to me, Alastrine," her mother chided, violet eyes flashing in light of the lightning. "Tis Samhain-you are just as likely to be stolen by the faeries as the invaders this night."

The circle was already full of women in white dresses. Some were fair, some were dark, but Alastrine could see flashes of their violet eyes all around. In the center, three women stood. One was stooped with age, nearly bent in half with braided hair turned to stone by time-the crone. The second was young and fair, tanned face normally full of life and joy, though this night it was darkened by the seriousness of their situation. She was the maid. The third's wild black curls had been slicked to the side of her face by the rain, her round stomach straining against her robes. The mother.

"Mama, I-"

"Hush, storeen," her mother said.

The crone had stepped, the maid helping her to stand on a rock, that she might be seen and heard.

"Our way of life is threatened, my daughters!" she said in a strong voice that belied her age. "These foreign invaders seek to overthrow us-they wish to swamp our ancient magic of peace and understanding to replace it with war and intolerance!"

Women all around were murmuring worriedly. Alastrine tugged on her mother's robes, but her mother simply wrapped a hand around her mouth, effectively telling her child to be silent.

"We must act now."

"But what can we do, grandmother?" a voice shouted from the crowd. The maid then stepped onto the stone beside the crone.

"We unite our powers," she called. "We put them all into one child so that léitheoir aigne may be preserved."

Her mother gasped at the pronouncement. Alastrine looked up at her, questions racing through her eyes. Her mother turned away, refusing to answer those questions.

"Lose our power?"

"Surely that's too much?"

"We will be lost!"

"We will be lost no matter what we do now," the mother said in a dark voice, stepping forward, though not climbing atop the stone. Suddenly she groaned and clutched her belly. "There is no time to argue-the Romans come for us now! If we do not act, then all is lost. Is it not better for one to carry on the Gift than for hundreds with it to perish? Táimid ar cheann!"

There was a low murmuring throughout the crowd. Then, Alastrine's mother stepped forward.

"Táimid ar cheann," she said. "The Gift cannot vanish from the world-and I will not allow my youngest daughter to be slaughtered by the invaders either! We must do as the Three say!"

As her mother said this, Alastrine could not stop watching her eyes. They had always been a bright shade of violet, dancing and fun and mysterious and beautiful. The same as Alastrine's. But, now-now they were darkening, flashing between the dancing violet they had always been and a dark, dull brown. Alastrine tried to shrink away, but her mother pulled her forward.

"Say it with me, storeen," her mother whispered. "Táimid ar cheann!"

Alastrine looked at her mother wide-eyed and then turned to see the Three staring at her. She mumbled it at first. Then she grew louder.

"Táimid ar cheann. Táimid ar cheann."

Voices were joining theirs. The stones around them seemed to glow. Alastrine felt dizzy as all the violet eyes around her began to darken and change. Only the Three stood silent. A bolt of lightning struck the stone in the center, illuminating the whole circle.

The mother clutched her stomach and screamed.

October 31, 1981

Wiltshire, England

The Fall of the Dark Lord

It was raining still.

The woman clutched the toddler to her chest as he wailed his terror at the raging storm outside. Her husband's pained shout had woken them both before he sped out of their home, clutching his left forearm. The baby wailed and the wife prayed that he would return soon as she desperately tried to soothe their son.

She heard a pounding at the front door. Hoping against hope that her husband was already home, she opened the door.

Outside was not her husband, but a woman who was her opposite in almost every way. Her dark curly hair was slicked to her face, in stark contrast to straight blonde locks. The new woman's face was strong-sharp angles and hooded eyes in contrast to a fairy chin and doe-eyes. But, perhaps most striking was her figure. Where the first was slight and slender, the second was heavy with child.

"It's coming," the dark woman panted.

The fair one helped the laboring mother into the house, Transfiguring a nearby couch into a bed. Soon it was a steady rhythm of screams and pushes as a House Elf continously brought water, towels and took care of the toddler.

After many hours, the fair one was holding another small child with the beginnings of dark curls on its head.

"It's a girl."

The dark one turned away and fell asleep, leaving the fair one to tend to both children. She looked down into the newborn's face as the girl opened her eyes for the first time.

Violet eyes.

The next thing the fair one knew, the dark woman was up, moving stiffly to the door.

"Wait, stop!" the fair one said, startling both children. They began to wail. "What is going on? You come to my doorstep, you deliver your child-my husband is missing! Explain this to me, now!"

The dark one looked at her with dark eyes and shook her head, continuing her path to the door. The fair one grabbed onto her.

"Wait! At least tell me your daughter's name!" the fair one said, tears filling her eyes.

"It doesn't matter," the dark one said viciously. "Name the spawn whatever you want, she is of no use anymore."

"She's an infant!"

"She was supposed to begin a dynasty!" the other woman snarled. "But that is over-it's all over. My mission has changed-and an infant cannot do anything for vengeance."

"What about her father then-your husband can-"

The dark one scoffed. "You haven't lost your childhood naivete, have you?" she said. "Do whatever you want with the child. Stand by your husband, raise your perfect little family. I am doing what needs to be done to avenge her father."

The fair one gaped after her and the open door. Within moments, the dark woman had disappeared into the early morning mist. The newborn began to cry.

"Hush, baby," the woman whispered, bouncing the tiny baby gently in an effort to quiet her before she woke her son. "You need a name don't you? Hmmmm…"

She paced the length of the entry way, turning and pacing and bouncing. Until the last time she turned, walking straight into something hard and warm. She looked up to see her husband.

"Oh thank Merlin, you're home! I was so afraid-" she cut herself off, taking in her husband's face. "Darling? Darling, what happened?"

Her husband looked her straight in the eyes and then said the words that explained away all the strange happenings of Halloween 1981.

"The Dark Lord is gone."