Chapter 1
Hope
“I don’t know about this,” I say, my voice shaking among the chirping bugs.
My life has been like one long horror movie franchise. Before I was even born, I was hunted by magical creatures from far and wide. Between the witches of New Orleans, the Hollow, my various evil family members plus their enemies, and the latest is a mud monster determined to end my short life.
I suppose I can’t entirely blame him, I am Nature’s loophole in how to kill him. But, parading around in Landon’s body is beyond cruel. Even my Father would hesitate to go that far, but Malivore isn’t weighed down by pesky humanity. He just wants to consume every magical creature he can get his muddy hands on, absorbing their power until he is the only one left.
“I know, Hope. I know, but we don’t have any other options. We’ve gone over this,” Rebekah coos while smoothing my hair after the wind carries the strands. “You deserve to live as long as possible.”
“You aren’t even sixteen yet,” Freya starts, bringing up the same logic she’s drilled into my head a thousand times by now. “If you stay here, you will have to activate your vampire side soon. Very soon, Hope, and that would only be a temporary solution.
“Defeating Malivore just means that someone else will come after you, whether for your powers or for revenge against…Nik. Despite how often we win, we keep losing family, and I will not allow us to be whittled into extinction. I know this is not ideal, but if there was another way for me to keep you safe, I swear, I would.”
She pleadingly looks into my eyes, begging me to understand that she doesn’t want to ship me off. Freya would rather I stay right here with her and her new wife, but I’m not exactly safe to be around. Turning my face up to the dark blue sky, I count the the stationary stars in favor of letting the moisture collecting in my eyes free.
This won’t be goodbye, we will still be able to send each other letters and gifts. Freya spent over a week looking for a world with enough magic for my powers to be unaffected, and then another working out how to accurately send mail through the space time continuum. Once I arrive, and safe, the first thing I am to do is write to them. Proof that I’m alright, that this isn’t a huge mistake.
I still have no idea what I’ll be walking into. Just because the world on paper is habitable for me, I am fully aware there is no promise that I will actually be safe there. Not forever, at least. To go from constantly hunted to blissfully anonymous will be weird, but I’m trying to have a good attitude about it. Trying.
Rebekah triple checks that my backpack has enough supplies to survive the wilderness, “As long as you transition by the end of your seventeenth birthday and send us some of your blood, then everything will work out on our side. It won’t be two years here, Freya managed to find a world where time runs faster there and we are confident you will land in the best possible location. Whatever that may be.
“We might take some time to return your letters, but I assure you that we will answer the moment we receive them. Do you still have the bracelet? Remember the incantation?”
Nodding, I numbly play with the clear quartz stone on my wrist while looking at the odd contraption that is going to send me away from my family. At least, the ones still alive. It’s a bunch of metal, looking suspiciously close to what we used to send Rafael and his parents to another world.
The bracelet has a couple purposes. First, it will buzz whenever there’s a package or letter from my Aunts ready to be magically received. Second, it holds as much information from this world as the medium sized stone could store. Mostly, I managed to get Freya’s grimoire collection onto it, along with a few of my favorite books, but I also input every song I’ve heard from the last 50 years.
Computers and phones inspired me, so I just linked the crystal to some charmed headphones and one notebook. When I want to listen or read, all I have to do is take out my charmed objects and concentrate before music will play or words will appear.
The meteor shower tonight will start any moment, and this thing will rip me away. I can almost pretend that we are standing in this open field to stargaze, that the blanket wrapped around my shoulders is meant for us to lay on, just a little girl time. But that fantasy would only break my heart in the end, really I should be used to losing people at this point.
Wiping the tears decorating her cheeks, Freya pulls me into a big hug, “I love you, Hope. No matter where you go, you are not alone. Magic isn’t just a power—it’s a connection. You’ll feel us in every spell, in every moment you fight to survive. Remember, you don’t always have to fight for everyone else. You can fight for yourself too, you can save yourself.”
Rebekah joins the hug, my back warmed by her body heat as she squeezes just a little too tight, “You’ve faced trials that would break the best of us, Hope. If anyone can find a way to thrive in a world full of unknowns, it’s you.” Her voice breaks. “But promise me—promise me you’ll choose to live, not just survive.”
A thump forms in my throat, keeping the words stuck inside. After swallowing multiple times, I whisper, “I promise.”
“No matter what, we will be here for you. Forever and Always,” Freya tells me firmly.
Rebekah says as she holds back tears, “Forever and Always.”
“Forever and Always,” I breath, echoing the words that have bound my family together for centuries.
The ground suddenly lights up, almost like there are fireworks overhead. Pulling away, we all look up together to watch the beautiful celestial event. Long streaks of white fly across the sky, their patterns curved as if trying to create a vortex.
The wind picks up, the creatures living in the surrounding forest voicing their unrest, and my heart drops. Unable to hold them back any longer, tears race down my face.
With one last look at my two amazing aunts, the two women who have taken care of me the best they could before and after I became an orphan, I grab the hunk of metal and close my eyes.
********************************
Landing with a soft thud, I open my eyes to a cloudy night sky. The wind is absent from this new clearing, as is any chirping or rustling in the trees. Everything is different, from the atmosphere to the types of green foliage before me.
Even the air is cooler, my skin almost pebbling in the absence of the New Orleans heat. But, when I take a deep breath I notice something in the air.
Quickly, I jump into a defensive position, facing the person I can smell. The man startles, and I realize immediately that he probably doesn’t mean me any harm. He’s rather old, and not at all prepared for a fight, let alone one with me.
Before me is an ornate cottage with an older man sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch. He has long, auburn hair that is just starting to grey, with a beard that reminds me of a cartoon Merlin. Seeming baffled that I just showed up in his front yard, I straighten while studying the man.
“Well, this is certainly unexpected,” he says with a cheery British lilt. “Visitors usually have the courtesy to knock.”
Despite the jovial tone, I can see his eyes assessing me, looking for danger. I do the same, but also look for any sign that he either has magic or not. Just because Freya sent me to a world with magic does not mean that everyone will be able to use it, or even know about it.
Movement catches my eye, making me look into a large window. That must be the kitchen, if the floating dishes are any indication. Stuck in surprise, I watch as plates are cleaned and dried without any hands or people directing the movements.
“You have magic,” I say under my breath.
Relief floods me, I don’t have to beat around the bush to ask for help. I can just talk to this person. Even if he ends up being an enemy, maybe I can get some information about this world before things go sideways.
“Yes, that I do,” the man replies with a faint smile. He leans forward slightly in his rocking chair, his curiosity shifting to cautious interest. “And judging by your rather abrupt arrival, I’d wager you do as well. May I ask your name, young lady?”
His house is absolutely adorable, small enough to be cozy but big enough that I can tell he’s fairly well off. There’s a big chimney, ivy vines and honeysuckle hugging the stone and wooden exterior. There’s no driveway or street, we are in a large clearing of a forest, the treeline bursting with greenery.
Clearing my throat, “Right. Hello, my name is Hope Mikaelson, and I’m from a different world. I’m a refugee of sorts, my world was unsafe so my family sent here for a better life.
“Sorry for popping in unexpectedly like this, but would you happen to be in a charitable mood? I at least need to be pointed in the direction of an inn or something?”
Honesty might not always be the best policy, but, frankly, I’m not in the mood to be cryptic. Tears still wait just behind my eyes, the loss of my family and everything I know is fresh, and I’d like for the day to end already. Either this man is going to help me or he isn’t, and cutting to the chase is all I have the energy for at the moment.
He looks surprised, but his eyes twinkle as he continues looking at me. Curiosity quickly overtakes his hesitancy, and soon he’s walking towards me. With one hand behind his back and the other scratching his chin, I briefly wonder if this is in fact Merlin. Stranger things have happened.
“Well, I am Albus Dumbledore. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Mikaelson. A different world, you say? How fascinating…” He tells me once he’s close enough to offer a hand to shake.
I take his hand before my mouth falls open, “I’m sorry, Albus Dumbledore?”
My complete shock renders Mr. Dumbledore speechless. For a moment, we just stare at each other incredulously. He probably has no idea why I recognize the name, and I have no idea why a character from the Harry Potter series is currently shaking my hand.
It’s a very popular series, even got turned into a movie franchise. This has to be a coincidence. Just another man named Dumbledore, the odds are astounding. Just because he has the same name, general appearance, and overall attitude thus far doesn’t mean anything.
“Do you recognize me?”
His question brings a hysterical giggle out of me, “I…I don’t think so. Umm, you don’t have a pet phoenix and work at a magical boarding school, do you?”
Dumbledore’s smile immediately drops, and now he takes up the beginnings of a defensive position. He doesn’t look threatening, yet, but he clearly just lost any and all faith he had in me.
“How do you know me,” he commands.
Horror floods my system, never in a million years would I have expected to be right. Did the author steal the story from this world? Is the author from this world? How can two worlds simultaneously exist separately, other than a work of fiction? Is it fiction?
With all these questions going through my head, Dumbledore takes out his wand. Clearly, not wanting to wait for my head to wrap around these events. Knowing that a great and powerful wizard is seconds away from attacking does wonders to loosen my lips.
“Woah, woah, woah,” I say raising my hands in surrender. “Sorry, I’m just shocked. There’s a fictional series in my world where you are a character, all that information comes from books I read growing up. I swear this is my first time here and I don’t actually know you.”
That brings forth a dumbfounded expression, but he lowers the wand all the same. I keep my hands up, not wanting to frighten the oddly familiar person in front of me.
After a moment of thought, “Do you have any proof?”
The question stops me short. It’s not like I decided to take the book series with me, my backpack is already filled with essentials and the two magical objects I couldn’t live without. Running a hand through my hair, I think. I don’t have something from my world to offer, but maybe something from this world can vouch for me.
“My memories!” I nearly shout once I think of it. “You can look at my memories, right? In that weird sink looking thing—oh what was it called…”
“A pensieve?” Dumbledore asks amused.
I nod emphatically while he shrugs. Within just a few minutes, he’s harvested some of my memories (which felt weird but also satisfying) and walked into what I imagine is his house. He didn’t invite me in, and even though I’m not a vampire yet, I’m going to respect his space.
Not long later, an excited Dumbledore with a haunted look in his eyes exits the house. Despite the short time away, he seems to have aged, or maybe his years are weighing down on him more. Thankfully, the smile is back on his face, and looking more genuine than previously.
“Thank you, Ms. Mikaelson. Your memories more than proved your story, but I will admit that I am unsure how to feel about that book series, or those rather lively discussions on my involvement. Granted it is clearly meant for the future, the details I saw about the present are all…disturbingly accurate,” with that he lets out a long sigh.
“But that is neither here nor there, you have much more pressing problems at the moment. What are your plans for this world?”
Biting my lip, I debate just how honest I should be. Technically speaking, I don’t have plans for this world. I only just found out that there’s anything familiar, but my hero days at the Salvatore School are over. Plus, Voldemort loses so it’s not like I even need to interfere.
Sighing, I decide to risk my luck like so many others and trust him, “All I want is to live a comfortable life, one where I’m not constantly being hunted for just existing. To be completely honest, I’m…powerful.
“I don’t mean this world any harm, I’ve spent my life fighting those who want to hurt others. All I want is to live my life without constantly looking over my shoulder, and without random enemies threatening my loved ones.”
After I finish, Dumbledore nods and then looks to the sky. He must be thinking, now would be an odd time to chart astrology. The troubled look in his eye gives me pause, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think Dumbledore was debating whether or not to help me.
None of what I said should be a surprise, I mean I gave him enough memories that my story should check out. Still, honesty feels weird and it wouldn’t shock me if this all blows up in my face.
When he looks back at me, Dumbledore smiles softly, “Well, I believe we can achieve that goal. How old are you, Ms. Mikaelson?”
“Please, call me Hope,” I start, not liking how formal that sounds. “But I’m fifteen, turning sixteen. In my old world, there was sixty-three days before my birthday, so that many days from now should be my equivalent in this world. Do you know what day that would be?”
Dumbledore thinks on it for a minute before responding, “Why, I believe that would be July 25th, 1943 if I’m not mistaken. You say you’ll be sixteen by then?”
Odd, I’ve been a Capricorn my whole life and now suddenly I’m a Leo. I’ll have to remember that, my new birthday that is. Having a due date to die is daunting, but I don’t want fear to keep me from helping defeat Malivore. I’ve already been spared the worst of that fate, now isn’t the time to flake.
“Yes, that’s right,” I tell him with a small sigh.
Dumbledore takes on a funny expression, looking unsure of how to proceed while simultaneously being excited. Tilting my head, I wonder what he’s going to say.
“Would you potentially be interested in continuing your schooling? I imagine attending Hogwarts would be odd, but perhaps fun given your familiarity with it?” He asks.
“From your memories, it seems that magic works the same way from your world, as do potion ingredients. The last term has recently ended, and I could teach you what you might be lacking before the next. I believe it would help you begin that comfortable life you seek.”
Happiness floods me, and I don’t know what to do. I still lost my world, in person contact with my family, and my first love to his evil Father. Sadness and grief are still lurking around the corners, but is it so bad to make the best out of a bad situation?
“I—That would be amazing! Are you sure, though? Tutoring me and offering me a place to go…why help me?” I am a Mikaelson afterall, I can’t afford to be blindly trusting.
Sensing my hesitation, his smile softens, “I saw how hard you’ve fought for goodness and peace, how you truly want a quiet life. As you said, you are a refugee, a rather bright one at that, and how could I live with myself if I didn’t offer you a chance at the life you want? I am happy to vouch for you to Headmaster Dippet, just as I have for many other students in my time.”
I scrutinize him, taking the time to figure out if I’m trusting this man because of the books or if it’s the smart thing to do. He patiently waits as I do, seeming content to be mentally picked apart, and confident I’ll come to a safe conclusion.
“Okay, thank you. I would greatly appreciate all that help,” I tell him honestly.
Offering me his arm, he leads me into the cottage.