Lillian's P.O.V (Third Person)
She was pacing the room nervously, overthinking once more what she'd seen. She had still not found any kind of affirmation of her discovery and it had started to affect her. Anxiety had rooted deeply in her chest and it stung whenever she thought about something that was even remotely related to Naomie and you.
The mole she'd planted within the Greater Good she now used for private matters. However, any displayed emotional involvement in the case would betray her vulnerabilities. And that was something she couldn't let happen.
She seated herself with a frown, biting her nails as she leaned forward, watching the door anxiously. Somehow the idea of her mother being alive and somewhere out of reach terrified her. She needed confirmation of her passing before she would be able to sleep again.
Night had fallen hours ago and the windows had no purpose in the darkness. There was a slight shade of colour on the horizon, which she knew meant the day would be starting in a matter of hours.
Days had passed since you left with Robert and Alyx, this she knew because of her mole. She knew that you had set out to find her, which made her feel even more dreadful. Because of the fact that she wasn't the only one to have seen her, making it more likely for her to be real. And since she was not the one to have planned this, she was unable to think of any other possibilities to calm her mind that would play out to her liking. All that could happen now would work against her.
She grabbed her head in anguish and closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She was paranoid for no reason. Naomie was dead, and the next report would prove it.
The sun peeked over the horizon, sending faint rays of light and colour up in the air above. The clouds hung low in the sky, mingling with the pallet of the morning shades. They were dark and dense and even a fool could tell that bad weather was approaching.
Her gaze scanned the sky outside, dread and misery taking root in the pit of her stomach. It was only when she noticed a speck of black against the light of the upcoming sun that she felt a sudden wave of euphoria. She knew what was coming to her. It was her saving, her ability to sleep flying back in her arms.
Her spy was about to report back to her. And once she knew where you were, there was little time to waste.
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Robert's P.O.V (Third Person)
His wings were beating against the strong wind. His feathers ruffled and he noticed he was starting to grow weary, his energy running low. At least they'd let him keep his ability to apparate. If he had to cross the sea before you woke up, it would've been an impossible feat.
His wings were beating tirelessly on the wind and he finally noticed the building. The one he was supposed to enter while airborne. He had not yet figured out how it was expected of him to enter, but that would all become clear once he came close enough. At least, that's what she'd said.
As he neared the building, foot by foot, he grew anxious. If he wouldn't manage to report to her in time, there would be consequences he was unable to face.
He reached the building, entirely exhausted. He had still no idea how he was supposed to get inside when suddenly, his vision started swimming before his eyes and a moment later he was standing inside the office.
His human body had been returned to him, he noticed, as he looked down at his hands and feet. She only gave him several seconds to enjoy being back in his own body. Because as soon as he noticed her, standing before him, her face stoic and grey eyes staring directly into his, he froze and she started bombarding him with questions...
First, she wanted to know where you were and where you were headed. Robert was embarrassed as he gave her the information, his face cast down in shame. ''She's in the Netherlands, looking for her mother,'' he muttered.
Her eyes glinted with anxiety as she heard those words, but it was quickly concealed as he looked up at her. A sudden flare of anger and bravery breaching his walls of self-preservation. ''You can't control me forever,'' his voice was raised only slightly, but it had made a difference nonetheless.
She stared him down, incinerating his sense of bravery and destroying his hope by merely looking at him. He cast his gaze down and immediately knew he had made a mistake and instantly regretted it. He knew that whatever he did, his actions had consequences for the people he cared about.
He was waiting for the punishment, but all she did was look at him. It unnerved him and he suddenly wished for her to simply yell at him, he would've even preferred physical abuse above this heated gaze that was pointed directly at him.
Suddenly, he was shrinking. His height was decreasing and he immediately noticed the feathers regrowing on his hands and body. He let out a shout that was already half a croak. Only moments later he had returned to his bird form.
His beady eyes were glaring up at Lillian before she shoved him out of the way, causing him to ascend with a protesting croak. ''Return to her now, and see to it that she does not leave that forest,'' she ordered, her voice unnervingly even as she turned to the window and murmured,
''It's high time this nonsense came to an end.''
☘
Bright daylight light pierced my eyelids, my consciousness slowly returned. I could hear shuffling close by and suddenly felt fingers brush against my face. Reflexively I moved away and found myself a moment later face to face with my mother.
Breathing heavily, I stared at her with a frown, feeling my vision blurring and a throbbing headache quickly building up Within my head.
She held up her hands as if to say she was no threat before helping me back down on the small cot, attempting to soothe me as I looked around. The small, wooden hut held little interest, but the items stored in dusty glass bottles on her shelf did catch my eye.
''What am I doing here?'' I asked softly as my head ached, throbbing painfully with a crushing headache. She retreated, leaning back in the wooden chair. ''I don't know, you tell me.''
Her eyes were kind as she looked down on me, examining my state as I lay with my gaze fixed on hers. It was incredible how much we were alike, and in turn, how much we bore the likeness of Lillian.
''I believe you have a concussion. You're lucky to be alive, however, with the rock that you head bumped earlier,'' she said as she offered me a cup of water that I hesitantly took. ''Your memories will return gradually.''
But after a few small sips, my memories came crashing to mind and I quickly placed the cup on the ground beside the bed. A frown came to her brow as I attempted to sit up and she immediately moved forward to help me back down as my headache split my skull and my eyes squeezed shut in pain.
''Take it easy. Your body needs a while to heal.''
As my eyes opened once more and the pain subsided to a tolerable amount, I spoke. ''You're my mother,'' I said thoughtlessly. She smiled and nodded wordlessly, offering me time to come to my senses.
''How are you alive? Everyone was convinced you had died, even Grindelwald, he-'' but before I could continue my rambling she placed a hand on mine to silence me. The gesture made me feel safe with her and so I lapsed into silence, allowing her a moment to compose her thoughts.
''That is how it should've been,'' she said, her eyes diverting toward the ground. ''But after those pictures of you made it to the press, and I knew you had found your father I figured it couldn't hurt to seek you out. I just wanted to see the daughter I had been forced to give up.''
Tears glistened in her eyes, a smile on her lips to display her contradicting emotions. ''And what a strong person you have become, (Y/N). But all the lost years I could've spent with you as a mother, make me regret all the decisions I've made.''
I felt my own eyes watering as I listened to her every word, allowing the emotions within me to run freely as I slowly sat up opposite my mother.
''It shouldn't have to be like that for any longer,'' I said softly as her gaze returned to mine. She remained quiet and so I elaborated. ''You could return with me to Nurmengard, to my father.''
The light in her eyes twinkled momentarily as I mentioned him, but they had vanished quickly as the troubles and complications of that situation presented themselves before her. ''It would be too dangerous,'' she said with a sad smile.
I shook my head. ''Grindelwald and I are the most wanted by the Ministry of Magic in the Wizarding World at the moment. And we are still free. We could keep you safe, you wouldn't have to limit yourself to this small hut,'' I said gesturing about. ''And distance yourself from any social interaction in fear of what might happen.''
Once more she shook her head to my perfectly logical arguments. ''If that had been the only problem in the matter, we would have found a solution much earlier before any of this occurred.'' Her eyes slowly grew distant as they fixed on a spot on the wall.
''Since you're living with him and have seen his...passion, for his cause, you must also know what methods he uses to achieve what he wants,'' she said, her eyes finding mine once more. Nodding slowly, I started to understand what she meant.
''The things he does for his beliefs are horrifying at times, and I did not agree with them. I left because he refused to change. And immediately after I had you...'' she trailed off, the pain in her eyes unmistakable caused by her memories.
''Anne came,'' I finished for her.
She looked up, surprised I knew, but then nodded. ''I would've come after you, find you. But the world thought I was dead. Dumbledore saved you from the Ministry, convincing them it was not fair to judge you on your father's actions. I spoke with him in secrecy for several weeks until he advised me to return here, build a life away from society. Since then I have had no contact with him, believing it would endanger us both.''
''After those first few years of seclusion, I got used to being alone and only left to town under a cloaking spell or the effect of polyjuice potion. Wariness and memories have been the only companions I've had all these years. And despite all the negative aspects of this life, I've come to enjoy it. And I believe your father is still not prepared to change his ways.''
Silently I absorbed the information she was giving me. And I was about to open my mouth to discuss her last argument when suddenly there was a bang on the window.
Focussing her gaze alertly, Naomie got up and opened the door glancing around the corner and finding a raven on the ground. She scooped it up in her arms as she returned inside with the creature.
My eyes rested on its form until its eyes opened and it sprang up, flying from Naomi's hands. Its beady black eyes soon found me and it soared down settling on the headboard of the bed croaking like mad and sending glances in the way of the open door.
Suddenly all clicked into place. ''Robert, is that you?'' I asked him and his croaking only intensified, as if he was warning me. But then he took off again, flying through the gap of the open door.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed as Naomie protested and I straightened, wobbling a little as I regained balance and went after my friend, Naomie at my heel.
But as Robert circled in the air before the trees, croaking urgently I noticed a figure running toward us at great speed, wand in hand.