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Lunch, November 8th, 1998 - Oxford City Centre

Hermione Granger

"A Faeries very essence is their name, and thus a faerie will never reveal their true name without utter trust."

"Would you please put that book down 'Mione!" Ron whined as the two waited at a small cafe on Cowley Street. It was a muggle establishment, a fairly typical place with sandwiches and coffee ready for lunch. The two of them had arrived separately and met up to have lunch. For some reason, Ron was wearing a normal pullover, and a pair of jeans. What drew Hermione's attention was the fact his hair was getting long again, longer than before. The last time it got this long was last year when they were on the run, and for some reason it appeared that the redhead was actually taking care of it.

"Ron, is there something you want to tell me?" she said after putting down the book of folklore she was reading.

"Nope," he replied far too quickly.

"Alright, well you know that you can tell me -anything-, right?" she asked.

"Yup, sure, anything - got it!" he chirped before turning around watching down the street.
Hermione let out a huff of annoyance and checked her watching, noting it was just past one o'clock and that both Ginny and Harry were late. Only five days ago Ron and Harry were arguing over gender identity. I mean I get it, but I've learned. Ron's pretty much a country-bumpkin of a pureblood. The thought caused her to smile widely as Ron was still scanning the passing crowd. Not unlike her friend she was in a dark blue cardigan, dark jeans, and a nice soft t-shirt of her favorite band. Tilting her head to the side she sighed happily at finally getting her hair properly braided and enjoyed having the mass out of her face.

"What made you so happy?" she asked her friend.

"Harry and I had a heart to heart, and they've got something to tell you."

"They....when did you evolve so quickly?" she asked him.

"Since, Ginny tore me a new one after our last debate," he said with a sigh.

"Oh widdle Ronnikins is growing up!" she chuckled.

"Shut it!" he protested.

"What are you two arguing about?" they heard Ginny a few feet away. Like before she had her new signature side shave revealing the right bare side of her head, and a dark red Holyhead Harpies hoodie on. What caught Hermione's attention though was Harry standing a bit behind their girlfriend, hiding as if they needed to. What in the world?Wow, I really must be out of the loop.

"Yeah, I finally sat down and got a new pair recently," they said before leaning in and whispering something to Ginny.

"Okay, so you three are dragging me to get makeup right?" Ronald asked, changing the topic.

There was a general nod of agreement from the other three leaving the tallest of them frowning with a sigh. Hermione chuckled at Ron's continued antics. Does he act this way on purpose to make us all laugh or is he really that immature. I mean...I really do wonder.

Early Afternoon, November 8th, 1998 - Oxford City Centre

Hermione Granger
More than an hour passed since they arrived at Boots and made their way to the makeup section. An hour of watching Ron sit astounded as both she and Ginny showed him the power of muggle shapeshifting. Harry for the longest time sat on the edge as Hermione wove through two aisles over and over again. Finding a foundation that fit her skin tone wasn't the easiest truth be told. Sure, being on the run and the fighting related stress had caused her to pale a bit, but she was still far darker than her friends. Well, except maybe Harry, but there was always the annoyance of finding the right tone for her sepia skin. She sighed before moving to a section professing to cater to non-European women and found something close enough.

I guess I can always just transfigure it. She mused as she tossed the small round glass container in the air and caught it before fingering the black lid. Still, even the wizarding world has problems with this stuff. Hermione sighed before watching Harry staring at a mascara tube for the eleventh time while Ginny and Ron were arguing over their preferred Quidditch teams. Slowly, she drifted over to her best friend and noticed how much weight they'd lost. Harry used to be one of the fittest people she knew, maybe not muscular, but lithe and speedy. The perfect build for a seeker, and yet she could see a hollow pallor to her friends face, and how frail their frame was. Are they handling their stress at all? Why aren't they talking to me?

This was what led her to slowly stand beside her friend and just watch them fidget. It really is the same mascara. What is that? Looks like Maybelline. Harry's green eyes were locked on the strange bluish oval shaped tube with confusion.

"It makes your eyelashes longer," she told them.

"I know what it does, it's just weird that girls put this goo on their lashes to begin with," they stammered.

"You like how it looks though don't you," Hermione suggested.

"Yeah. Ginny says I have naturally long lashes and..." they trailed off before putting it back on the hook. A flash of their hands revealed the green painted nails with a silver slash across the index.

"Slytherin colors?" she asked curiously.

Harry whipped around and stared at her and a series of emotions flashed across their face.

"I haven't told you....a lot...so much has happened since....I killed....Riddle." Hermione could tell Harry was having an issue putting thoughts to words, and was biting their upper lip hard. She could tell Harry wanted to say -something-, but there was a disconnect between the actual word and the meaning they wished to express. Is this related to their death and coming back? She read more than a few medical texts on the damage caused by those who died or a lack of oxygen to the brain. What was going on though? Was it brain damage? Trauma? So many things could be affecting her best friend and she felt helpless with a lack of input on the matter.

"Harry it's-" she started.

"Raine.....my name is Raine." The words came out harder than she suspected her friend wanted to say, yet Hermione could tell the tone was because her friend finally found the words.

"It's pretty," she replied.

"Its...unisex, and it can mean Queen or Ruler," they said and mumbled, "it was a name in some old baby name lists I found from my mom at Grimmauld."

"I like it," Hermione replied and opened her arms for Raine to give her a simple nod. Suddenly, she embraced her best friend who let out a shaky half-sob of breath and crumpled into her. Another shaky breath and the hug lasted for a while as her hand extended to the small of her friends back and she let out a sigh. Fuck. Her mind slowed down as she just let herself experience the comfort of making her friend feel better.

"Uh you two okay?" she heard as she spied Ron watching them both over Ginny was smiling with her arms crossed.

"So they told you their new name eh?" Gin asked, "I personally love it!"

"I mean it does make sense, Raine was always a Drama Queen," Ron joked with an emphasis on -queen-.

"A mad snake-man wanting to kill me because of some stupid prophecy does not make me a Drama Queen," Raine growled.

"Hey, keep saying it mate, but admit it. You do love attention," Ron pushed further.

"When you are starved for attention because you get locked in a fucking cupboard for hours on end," Rained whipped around, "you can joke about it, RONALD BILLIUS WEASELY!"

"Sorry," the redhead squeaked.

"You were so close brother'o'mine, so close to not pissing them off," Ginny sighed before retrieving her partner from Hermione.

Raine required a few minutes to calm down before they would remotely glare at Ron without their hand forming into a fish. Hermione herself was wondering about her friend's mindset, but was busy as she decided to give everyone a bit of space. I'm happy we beat Noseless. The happiness of defeating Tom Marvolo Riddle though came with a heavy cost. She considered as she sat there in the aisle and wandered away from her friends, for just a moment. Her hands clenched and unclenched as she thought about it.

Tonks and Remus are in comas....Ted Tonks is dead. They'd beat the Dark Lord, much like the end of Lord of the Rings, but the cost to herself and she glanced at the scar hidden on her arm. Plus the cost to her friends was terribly high. Memories came back to her in small bits. A silvery knife cutting into her skin; the cackling of a dark haired elfin woman straddling her hips; and she inhaled sharply. What's wrong with me? Hermione Granger glanced around her and caught an associate watching her while facing a shelf across another aisle. But, she was quickly lost in her mind once again.

She really should speak to someone about how she felt about the aftermath of the Battle and the War. A loud bang occured behind her and almost instantly she reached for the wand hiding in her back pocket. Hermione's eyes darted around as she homed in on the possible 'threat' and realized it was just Ron bumping into and knocking over some soft drinks. Moments passed as her heart pounded hard in her chest, and cold sweat pooled on her forehead. Only six months after she watched Fred Weasley perish and she was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. Months now since the War ended, but still it stayed with her. Hermione thought she could ride it out, speak to a mind-healer, and get a handle on things.

But that wasn't how mental health worked, she learned, what learned instead was she would likely live with the shadows of Bellatrix Lestrange forever.

Breakfast, November 9th, 1998 - Inish Eile

Bellatrix Black
"Delphini Black you will listen to me, now!" she snapped as she was on her last nerve. For more than an hour Bellatrix sat outside her daughter's room trying to coax her out for breakfast. What was annoying her so much was the young toddler seemed entire entranced stupid little video tape Erin gave her. After a few moments she uttered the incantation "Alohomora" and the lock clicked. What she found was her dirty blonde daughter sitting upright in her bed. Her eyes were glued to the small television screen across from her bed, and she was busily clutching some stupid little doll in her hands.

"Mum, just one more episode pleeeease!" she whined. In the months since they'd come to Inish Eile, her daughter had turned three, and was easily far more independent than a child her age. What annoyed her however was that her daughter was now completely fixated with a strange pigtailed blonde wearing a some sort of skirt outfit on the screen.

"Delpi, it's time for breakfast, no more Sailor Luna for now!" she stated and watched as her daughter ignored her while singing along to the stupid theme song.

"Sailor Moon mum!" Delphi protested.

"Whatever," Bella sighed.

"No - no! She's like you mum, she fights bad people like Queen Beryl!' Delphi rambled.

On the screen the blonde was crying about something as a strange little black cat lectured her. Bella sucked in a sharp breath as she considered what her daughter said to her. Six months to think about her actions, and she stared at her hands for a moment. She betrayed the Dark Lord and fled the battle after his death. No final stands or attempts to bring him back or resurrect the his cause. No, her daughter survived and that was what mattered. Cissy and Meda were alive, and even -if- Meda married a sodding mudblood, she never wanted to actually kill her. Well, deep down at least.

"I don't cry like that," she murmured.

"No well, you are definitely Sailor Mars though!" the girl pointed out as a red wearing raven-haired woman appeared to mock the blonde, who cried once again. The black haired woman was mocking the girl by calling her 'meatball head', and as the episode continued showed a strong moral ground. Bella stared at the television as she once again thought about her time recovering. What is that bloody faerie planning for me?Wait...why DID that little prat have green eyes. We all knew about his mother, but she was a powerful ritualist. Bella stood in the doorway of the dining hall and watched as Delphini trot over to the faerie and promptly push the faerie queen into a prattling discussion. Erin appeared to be listening intently to the child like any experience mother.

If she's as old as she says she is, that woman is at least two thousand years my senior.

"MUM! MUM!" her daughter was jumping up and down to regain her attention.

"Wot?" she asked, finally gliding over to take a seat on her Patron's right hand.

"You're going to fight the Sluagh soon right!?" Delphi was far -more- excited about this than her mother.

"Yes, she is," Erin said solemnly. Bella gave an uneasy smile as her daughter began to pester her further about fighting the Sluagh. An entire swarm of soulless shapeshifting birds. The daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black was completely unsure what in Morgana's name she was going to do. Training under a war goddess was a strange and eye-opening experience Flescaí were heavier and much larger than a standard wand, meaning a new flow of movement for Bella to master. Where once she moved with the fast paced allegro of a violin, she spun and whirled with the strength of a cello.

If Bella hadn't been given basic armed combat training in her dueling classes she wouldn't have had an idea how to fight with a walking stick. The dual sided casting ability of the Flescá was her favorite feature of the foci. It meant that not only could she snap off a quick curse to one target she could now more easily apply counters and react. The movement of battle was far more continuous and fluid. Honestly, the other nice thing was that her heavy black oak Flescá was hard enough to snap or shatter most normal wands in a single hit.

Hey I'll club those fucking souless buggers to death. The thought was pretty appetizing to her. There was one little hitch though; her attempt to use a charm similar to a patronus required her to face the worst and best of her memories. Images of torture, and much more. Actions she partook in and where she left the Longbottoms nothing more than useless husks of their former selves. Her mind twitched a little, the begging and screams of the Longbottoms weren't going to ever leave her, but as she sat there and felt her hands fidget as she considered a few things. Thoughts long oppressed and ignored for so long that ripping the bandage off to free them up was proving harder than she thought.

Sodding little mudblood. Why did she just have....

"Bella," Erin addressed her as the food was served. An elf placed a dish in front of her consisting of a standard country breakfast, a few rashers of bacon, fried egg, and some puddings along with sausage. The strange orange tinged sausages were still a little too much for her which meant Bella ended up eating the bacon and egg first. Actually eating blood pudding to her even if it was a "British staple" was not something the pureblood heiress found appetizing.

"Hmmm?" she hummed in response.

"Ye know tat no matter 'ow hard ye to try ta scare da House Elves, they'll just ignore you." Erin was once again bringing up another random topic. She's done this so many times I've lost count.' But she was right, Bella attempted to frighten or intimidate the House Elves of the manor more than once. What she discovered was that the Faerie paid them in a mix of actual currency and magical energy. The elves got a boost to their health from the faerie family magic and then gold to provide themselves with a life outside of servitude. An utterly alien concept to a pureblood British wizard like herself.

"Why are you telling me this?" she inquired.

"Because ye are spendin' mar time feckin about," she said finishing her breakfast and sipping a bit of white wine, "when ye should be practicin."

"I am practicing, Erin." Her voice rose slightly in volume as her frustration increased.

"Good," the deity scoffed before turning to her food. Compared to the two mortals, the six foot tall ate three times the portioning. There was some sort of potion smelling of vegetables sitting placed beside Bella's right hand. Likely another concoction to further make up for years of malnutrition. Delphini was busily sitting in her high chair babbling on and on about Sailor Moon. Or more appropriately 'Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon.’' It was one of several cartoons and television shows the deity gifted to the little girl, the worst being some series called 'Xena: Warrior Princess.’

Bellatrix LeStrange had changed physically, though not much mentally. The daughter of the House Black still considered muggles to be only slightly better than beasts. Her short experiences seeing the pollution and the war of the 1960s and 1970s had jaded her. Growing up in the shadow of Grindlewald's anti-muggle campaign easily tainted her views from the start. The witch mused over all of the destruction she caused, and felt a strange feeling starting to curl in her gut. An unsettling kin to nausea, but it burned harder. As she tried to push it away in her head, she felt an assault of flashes of memory - sounds and images. A staccato rush of information. First, the keening and screaming of a woman. '’Please anyone but my son!'' - then Rod's voice cackling out the crucio with her own incantation in tow.

'Please mummy, I just wanted to play in the fountain!’' her own voice as a child while her mother slapped her face. The hard impact caused the witch in that moment to visibly flinch, a hand rising to touch the cheek.

"Mumuh, what's wrong?" Delphi inquired, snapping Bellatrix back into the here and now.

"Nothing sweetling," she felt the tension in her bones and her muscles increase. Pain from years of abuse, and agony as bile rose to her gorge. Erin's eyes bore into her own, and the deity's face quirked into a frown.

Afternoon, November 9th, 1998 - Hampstead

Hermione Granger
Even after more than a year, the House was still in good shape. A small solace to the girl who illegally obliviate her parents to save their lives. Walking over the still clean cut lawn, the girl noticed that a for sale sign still hung outside the decently sized two story home. Her trainers skidded against the curb of the cul-de-sac as she slowly made her way out from an alley where she apparated from. Dressed in her favorite pair of jeans the teen made her way through the gate and past the hedge. Leaves were already gathering at the base of the shrubbery as the tree growing on her property already claws its leafless branches to the sky. She sighed as she checked the note sent to her.

"Dearest Hermione,
Your mother spoke of you at length before our falling out years ago. I would like to meet with you about the state of the home and about your family's sudden disappearance. I have a few gifts for you and something urgent we can only speak of in person.
Sincerely,

Your Aunt Perdita'

A noted riddled with queer assumptions and outright confusing information. Her mother didn't have a sister, especially one named for the same Shakespearean play as herself. Worst even yet, was the fact that the owl who delivered the note itself was definitely a magical creature of some sort. It appeared like any standard barn owl, but appeared to red burning eyes when it appeared the night before. The human-like screech it let out after leaving was even more frightening.

So, as she walked toward the porch of her old abandoned home Hermione Granger fingered her wand hidden in a coat pocket of her red anorak jacket. The same jacket she received on her 17th birthday the year before from her parents. As she reached the first step she turned around and scanned the cul-de-sac itself. Not a single car was parked outside at first, and then her eyes spied a blue mini cooper with a red dragon painted across its hood. Squinting she could make out the style and blinked.

Why is there a mini with a Welsh dragon on it?

She kept the thoughts in her head for once and turned around. Hermione climbed the rest of the way, and checked the knob. Unlocked, so someone was waiting for her inside. Music reached her ears as she opened and closed the door behind her. She tried to place the music as she walked past the entrance hall into the small well furnished living room. A cd player sat on the coffee table plugged into the wall nearby. Beside it sat a fairly large portable speaker filling the entire room with a mix of reggae beat and the whirling of a saxophone. Glancing at the walls she admired images from her family's vacation to Paris, Marseille and later to Barcelona. Each of the pictures were arrayed along the pastel lavender walls.

Her eyes lingered on a particular picture, this one moving noting it as a wizard picture. One she sent her parents after Fleur and Bill's wedding. Her hair was pulled into two large twist buns, done by her mother that same day. Smiling, she leaned in and kissed Ron's cheek as Harry smiled, dressed in formal wizarding robes. The simple airy dress she was wearing that day moved around her as the wind kept kicking it up at random intervals.

"You were beautiful that day," the words caused her to turn around. Immediately her hand was on her wand and she drew it while her muscles relaxed into a defensive stance. Standing a few feet behind her was a woman straight out of a fairytale.

What caught her attention was the woman's eyes, they were the color of burning embers and seemed to reach into her own. Her visitor was a little over six feet tall and sat at one of the couches near the coffee table. A dark green jacket over a slightly dark orange tank top, fitted green trousers, and a pair of shined italian loafers. Her lean frame spoke of years of training; each movement was precise as a cat. Now having Hermione's attention the woman sat up, as Hermione tried to remember if she'd been sitting there seconds before.

No. She just appeared...is silent apparition possible?

The woman's hair like her eyes was red with highlights of orange in it. Pulled back into thick cornrows it sat in a high pony and shook with each moment. Her skin was a warm russet tone. A triskelion tattoo was visible on her upper shoulder as well as a silver necklace and chain around her neck.

"Who are you?" Hermione implored.

"Oh...I'm Perdita." The woman said, shining too white teeth at Hermione making the teen feel even more unsttled. She's not human, her face is too perfect. Hermione side-stepped so her back her right side was closer to the door.

"I'm assuming you were whoever sent me the letter."

"Yes, indeed I did," the woman replied, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

"Why did you call me here?" Hermione queried.

"Oh yes," she said and rose slowly to her full height and let out a loud laugh. "I need to finish tea first before we continue. Do you like Mint?"

Hermione visibly flinched as the tall figure loomed over her causing the woman to frown. Flashes of another woman in darker clothing pinning her to the ground and holding a knife caused her to shake. The scar on her left arm started to burn hard causing her to wince. She took another slow step back toward the doorway before she felt the air around her still.

"Can you sit down please...." she requested as the tall woman acquiesced. Hermione stared at the door before the entrance hall briefly before adding, "Why should I stay?"

"Because I can help you get your parents back," she replied. This caused Hermione's hackles to rise as she stepped closer and hovered behind the cout to the right of the one where the woman sat.

"You're lying" she retorted, "Or there's a high price to it."

"Of course there is, Hermione Granger," she smiled and flicked her wrist and a teapot came sailing in from the kitchen. A series of saucers and cups floated in behind it.

"Do you remember in Wales, when sharing Salazar's Locket?" she asked plainly. The floating teapot served tea as the two cups landed gently on their respective saucers.

"No, not really, all I remember was running over a hill along a road," her eyes blanked as she realized, "that was Offa's Dike."

"Correct, and as you dashed into the woods you made a wish," the fae replied. Her lips cresting the cup as she drank the still steaming tea without nary a wince of pain.

"A wish, this is all about a wish?" Hermione gripped the top of the couch in her hands and leaned forward defiantly.

"Yes, you made a wish on my land, and thus the wish was mine to grant." The red haired woman finished her tea and let the teapot drift over and poor her another cuppa.

"You're here over one errant wish to see my family again?" Hermione asked.

"No Hermione, I'm here because you've been making wishes since you were a little girl at Hogwarts." Hermione felt bits and details starting to fall into place. A wish to pass her first exam as a child and suddenly having a greater focus for studying. Another for Harry's health during the tournament, and without fail his broom arrived far faster than it should. This makes no sense. She blinked as she stared at the woman before climbing over the couch and taking a seat. Hermione stilled her mind for a moment as she inhaled slowly, picked up her cooled tea and took a sip.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"