Arundel Castle - Savage Daughter || Julia/Kathryn

Sunday, June 1, 1920
Afternoon,
Returning from lunch at The Goring Hotel

An uncomfortable tug in her belly button, and Kathryn found herself standing among rows of cherry trees. The little girl took scarcely any notice of them, the towering masses nothing but blurred shapes in the peripheral of her vision. Her hand hung loosely in Julia's grasp, her body sagging with the defeat and confusion she felt.

Before they'd left the hotel, her moth--...not her mother. Eleanor Longe, the woman who handed her over to a stranger with nothing more than a final parting pat beneath her chin and the admonishment that she be good.

"Don't embarrass me, now," the woman had said. "You'll show her how well you've been raised and what an exceptional little girl you are." She hadn't remained much longer; only long enough to take them out front where Julia collected the trunks containing everything that had ever been hers before climbing back into the car they'd arrived in and driving off...without her.

Kathryn had stood in stunned silence, watching the vehicle get further and further away until it disappeared around a corner, vanishing with the world that had become all she'd known for the last year. There was a heaviness in her chest that she couldn't place, a quiet grief she had no ability to recognise. Eleanor had been many things in the year she'd been her mother, many of them off-putting, but she'd also become something more. She'd become familiar. The woman had become a part of the routine that Kathryn clung to and now she watched it all burn without so much as an explanation beyond her no longer living in her home and needing to accompany this woman Benny called mother to her home.

Her reticence clung to her, the only shield against this new and terrifying thing. Kate didn't speak as she was led through the large French doors. Her head turned neither to the right nor to the left when they entered the massive library. By the time the got to the lavish suite of rooms belonging to the woman, Kathryn couldn't see through the thick cloud of moisture that coated sorrowful blue eyes.

Where was she? What was she meant to do? Who would this new woman be and what were her rules?

Kathryn craved the solace of her too-carefully curated room. She wanted to sit by the window seat overlooking the garden and wait for the clock to strike to begin her dance practice. Instead, she was...here.There was no longer a 'home'. It had disappeared with the midnight black Rolls-Royce that had peeled down the dusty cobbled street.

She felt adrift, standing in the middle of the room without the first idea of what she was meant to do. The little girl had lost her purpose, her direction and any of idea of herself. Was she still a dancer if her teacher no longer came to offer lessons? Was she still proper if her mother was no longer there to remind her of her posture and poise? Was she a daughter anymore without parents?

The anger Julia felt coursing through her on behalf of this little girl, was tempered only by the concern that overwhelmed it.

She spent not a moment watching Eleanor's car disappear down Beeston Place, choosing instead to tip the hotel doorman and thank him for his assistance. A quick glance up and down the street and the man flicked his wand, sending all of Kathryn's belongings ahead and off the street curb where they'd all been ceremoniously dumped.

"Come along, poppet," Julia's soft voice coaxed the girl, understanding that this poor child was likely absolutely beside herself with confusion and fright. "I promise you, this will never happen to you again as long as I'm living." The little girl's gloved hand in hers, Julia led her around the corner to Victoria's Square, and with a quick snap, the two vanished.

---

The scent of cherries filled the air before their feet had time to steady, and Julia was walking them quickly towards the castle. She would have...some explaining to do with James and Amelia, but they already knew Benji had a little sister and that the conditions were not ideal. The way Benji had described the inside of the Longe home - the pictures, the behavior, the general unsettledness - Julia could gather that for an already traumatized child it likely hadn't been the best arrangement for her.

Still, Eleanor had been her mother, not Julia and it had been completely out of her hands.

Thankfully, it was all rectified, and the siblings were soon to be reunited. For good. She would need to spend the next few days pouring all of her attention on the girl, getting her settled and acclimated and ensuring she was comfortable and knew her way around. It was lucky she had resigned from Hogwarts a few months prior, and only had the museum to contend with. Gary would be fine, and could certainly handle the exhibition opening on his own. It was time for her junior curator to step into the spotlight anyway.

As they moved through the library and into Julia's private rooms, she snapped her fingers, Fidèle appearing at once, surprise taking over the elf's features for a moment as his gaze landed on the little girl. "Fetch Benji first, and then the lord and lady, please." The elf nodded and was gone with a snap of its own fingers.

Julia turned and crouched down in front of Kathryn, seeing the tears welling in her eyes. "I know, sweet girl," she said gently, brushing a few strands of hair from the little girl's face, "and I'm so sorry. You deserved better than that." It would be around this moment that Julia would normally offer a hug, but she understood that this girl, this situation was wildly different from anything she'd encountered amongst her students at Hogwarts. She wouldn't push - the child didn't know her after all and would need time to feel comfortable around her.

"I know this is scary, but we'll figure it out together."

A knock came, loud and excitable. "Julia?" Benji's voice sounded through the heavy wooden doors and she smiled lightly at Kate.

"Come in, Benji."

Benji wasn't the biggest fan of Fidèle. As a general rule, the boy really liked house elves, finding them kind, generous and quirky overall. There were a few grumps here and there, and he did well to avoid them at school, knowing when they were on shift. Toddles was obviously his favorite, and he had it well in his mind that the kitchen elf deserved a hell of a better life than being a servant to kids who didn't appreciate him half the time. One day, he'd find a way to free him - he and Rae had both agreed on that.

Fidèle wasn't grouchy or mean. He was in fact, very polite and sweet.

He was also a dirty snitch.

Every time Benji thought he was being sly and pulling off something around the castle that he probably shouldn't be, there was Fidèle, tsking him and apparating off to go and rat Benji out to his uncle. The Hufflepuff had tried negotiating with Fidèle a few times, trying to see what sort of weaknesses the elf had that could be exploited for future negotiation tactics. So far, Benji had come up short. Fidèle had absolutely no desire to be bribed, his only pleasure, apparently, was James Laurence's approval.

Rosalie had scolded him several times, telling him to be nice to Fidèle, and that he was only trying to help and keep everyone safe. Benji had told Rosalie to mind her own business, and he'd dislike any snitch he wanted to, thanks.

If there was anything worse than a grouchy house elf, it was a brown-nosing one.

So it was no wonder when Fidèle suddenly appeared in front of him, his polite and agreeable smile plastered across his face, that Benji raised an eyebrow, not buying a second of it. "I'm not doing anything - I'm just sitting - "

"Lady Julia has asked Fidèle to fetch Master Benji for her. Lady Julia is in her rooms with a little girl."

Huh? Benji's facial expression mirrored his perplexity perfectly and he could see the exasperation spreading across the elf's own features.

"Lady Julia has asked Fidèle to fetch Master Benji for her. Lady Julia is in her rooms with -

"Yeah, I got it the first time," Benji said, snapping his book closed and tossing it sideways onto the nearby chair, much to the elf's disapproval. He paid little attention to the creature's tutting as he wandered out of the family sitting room and down the stairs and corridor to Julia's rooms.

When she called him in, the boy stuck only his head through the door, certain he was about to get an earful over something. What it had to do with a little girl he didn't -

"KATIE!" The boy flung open the door when hazel eyes landed on his little sister, and without asking a single question or waiting even a moment, he rushed to her, almost pushing his mother over in the process as he threw his arms around her. He squeezed his sister tightly, his breath catching in his throat as tears welled in his eyes against his will.

"She's staying right?" Benji croaked, blinking back the moisture, refusing to let his sister go, even as she stood rigidly and unmoving. He looked over his shoulder at his mum. "Julia, she's staying, right?" When his mum nodded quietly, he took a step back from Kate and looked her over quickly for any visible bruising or injuries. He didn't trust those weird people - and if Kate was here - it meant something horrible had happened.

"You're alright?" he asked her, his hands on her shoulders. "They didn't hurt you?"

Kathryn didn't react to the sudden appearance of the house elf. The estate that was once home had had its own. Baxter. Even in the final days when the little girl had watched in silent dismay as the only thing she called family fell apart, the house elf had been the one to help her maintain order. He'd ensured her meals were still served at the appropriate time, regardless of whether either parent joined her at the table. He was the one who took her into the garden for the 3 pm walks, always showing up at the stroke of the hour as if he understood that her routine was the only thing that kept her from unravelling.

She didn't know this house elf. He was another unknown in this vast and turbulent ocean she'd been unceremoniously tossed into without so much as a life vest.

Kathryn was drowning. The currents dragged her down every time she managed to get her head above the waves again, tossing her back and forth like driftwood at the mercy of the vexing winds and fearsome tides.

"Fetch Benji first, and then the lord and lady, please."

...Benny?

An uncomfortable flutter arose in her chest, growing quickly to a thunderous pounding that made her feel ill. For a girl who clung to stillness, her entire body had become a live wire of distasteful and cacophonous sensation. It was an assault on the internal harmony she strove to maintain. It shook the foundations of her safety, rattling her for her lack of understanding.

Kathryn had long forgotten the feeling of elation and relief, unable to see them for what they were now at the mention of her brother.

When Julia reached out to brush away the few strands of hair that had fallen into her face, the small child didn't take it as the sweet and reassuring gesture the woman had meant it to be. It was an immediate assault on her personage, another reminder that she hadn't been nearly perfect enough, that she wasn't polished enough, and that she had let herself slip from the image she'd worked so hard to maintain.

Gloved hands rose to her hair at once, now desperate in their attempt to smooth it all down. Without a mirror, she had no way of knowing when--or if--she'd returned to perfection, forcing her to prolong the motion. Her hands moved back and forth along the top and sides of her blonde head, her satin barriers making it impossible to feel for any individual strands that dared to rebel when she needed order and control.

It wasn't good enough. Nothing was good enough. Yet she continued in her pursuit, counting through each stroke of her hands long after Julia had abandoned her hair.

"Julia?"

"Come in, Benji."

Her hands fell limply at her sides. Kathryn watched the door open and the boy who still visited her dreams on occasion poke his head in. Heat flooded her small frame, a surge of adrenaline so powerful it manifested like wildfire inside veins that had cooled to frigid temperatures.

"KATIE!"

He pulled her in, wrapping her up like he always used to, and the dam that was her self-control received its first crack. The girl stiffened in her brother's arms, knowing instinctively that it would only take the wrong blow to break her composure. It would be unbecoming. She must be firm and uncompromising. Polished to the last.

"You're alright?"

Her chin wobbled.

"They didn't hurt you?"

Against her best efforts, a sob escaped her lips. The sound was jarring, nails against a chalkboard for the girl who'd learned not to cry. The distress of the outburst drew out a second sob. Slowly, hesitantly, one gloved hand reached out to grip his shirt. The other joined it with even greater hesitation as she tried to remind herself she must remain poised. Such a strong emotional display...it...she shouldn't...

Kathryn Elise Longe crumbled against her brother, her forehead pressed against his abdomen, and her eyes squeezed shut. The harder she tried to stop, the harder the tears fell and the more pronounced the heaviness in her chest. She wanted to be worried about messing up her hair and the undignified manner in which her nose had begun to snot to further drench her face beyond what her eyes had already done, but in that moment, she was only a little girl again, her porcelain veneer shattered as she felt every one of her 9 years.

"It's okay," Benji breathed, pulling his sister closer when she sobbed into his stomach, clinging to him in the same way she used to back home. He wrapped his arms around her and sat down hard on the floor, taking her with him.

The shock that overwhelmed him at her sudden presence caused the boy's breathing to spurn from his chest erratically, and he dropped his cheek onto the top of her head as he hugged her closer to him, wanting to ensure she felt every bit of him. He was here. She was here. Julia would never let them be separated again.

The moment took him back to those colder days when they'd curled up together in the corner of his bedroom, Benji holding her and shielding her as their mother's wrath exploded around them. She'd cried then too, clinged to him, and he felt that need to protect her washing over him all the same.

Still, this wasn't Hackney. He wasn't having to put himself in harm's way to make sure she went unscathed. She was...scared and traumatized all the same. But this was different. So different. It was the beginning of something better. Of knowing that now, his sister would always be safe, looked after, cared for, close to him. "You're home now, for good."

His eyes moved to Julia again, and though he didn't say the words, he was sure she could read the gratitude behind them. If there was anything that had taken away from his happiness here, it was knowing that Kate wasn't here with him; that she was in that strange home with those strange people being made to pretend she was someone she wasn't.

Now, she could finally be herself.

When the door swung open, Julia could barely manage to move herself out of the way before Benji was rushing to his sister. She stood, straightening herself and took a step back to give the two siblings a moment, knowing how important it was for both of them.

In the time she'd known Benji, when he went quiet or contemplative, he always spoke about his sister. His concerns and worry for her; his need to know that she was okay and safe. She had never understood why her ex-husband had been so against keeping the siblings together, to the point Kathryn was left in the orphanage without her brother. All it had done was cause Benji more guilt that he shouldn't have been burdened with, and, Julia assumed, made Kathryn feel abandoned.

Siblings, especially those who had weathered storms together in the way these two had, should never be separated. While the circumstances weren't ideal, Julia was relieved that she could do her part in bringing them back together.

She nodded, assuring her son that Kathryn would stay and wouldn't be shuffled off to the next family at the first opportunity. When the girl began to sob, it took all of her restraint not to take both kids into her arms and try to comfort them, but she knew that this was something Benji needed to be able to do for his sister. He was the only one Kathryn knew, the only one she felt safe with at the moment.

Another soft knock on the door, and Julia hurried to it, before allowing James and Amelia to peek their heads inside.

"What's going on? Why's the house elf in a half-panic?"

Julia looked over her shoulder slightly at the two kids before turning back to her brother and sister-in-law, shielding their view with the door. "Something happened at lunch with Ellie today," she said slowly, gritting her teeth and shrugging her shoulders slightly. Amelia's eyes widened while James's narrowed and he lolled his back in exasperation.

"Don't look like that," Julia whispered so the kids wouldn't hear. "How could I not? She's Benji's sister." James and Amelia looked at one another, a silent conversation passing between the two of them. Julia waited, swallowing hard, keeping the door firmly in the way.

"Can we meet her?" Amelia finally asked, her face softening. Julia looked over her shoulder again, the two now crumpled together in heap on the floor. "She's...not ready," Julia said honestly. "Dinner tonight though. Just us, and Edith. None of the cousins?" The two nodded solemnly, Amelia offering a small smile before turning to leave.

James tilted his chin at his sister a bit, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Keep it up Jules," he said lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets and backing away from the door. "We'll have to turn Papa's menagerie into a group home soon."

That Night At Dinner
The Family Dining Room

James sat back in his chair at the head of the long table, set for only six tonight. His fingers drummed lightly on solid oak as his other hand swished a glass of brandy on ice. Honey-brown eyes flitted briefly from each occupant to the next, before landing on his bleeding-heart little sister. Seating the blonde-girl between herself and Benji, Julia looked less-composed than she normally was, overcome with what must finally be hitting her at this hour.

Edith was stoic as always, barely an expression on the woman's face. His sister-in-law was soft-hearted, when she wanted to be. Becoming a mother last year had pulled that stick out of her ass in a real way, but she still took some warming up to.

Amelia of course, was completely beside herself, curious about the little girl and already looking eager to ask questions about her.

Amusement flashed over his features, coupled with the warmth and admiration he felt for Julia. Despite the past couple of years, and how migraine-inducing her marriage and subsequent divorce had been for him, she hadn't lost her heart. They'd had a slight bump in the road between the two of them last year, but she knew her place and kept it. She hadn't reopened old wounds, and he was thankful for it.

His sister was by far the most invaluable person in his life - moreso than his sweet wife. Julia understood the deep intricacies of running a family like theirs, and in many ways she was his right hand, able to keep most of the family members in line easier than he could.

And now she had another little Cuddrun to take care of. Benji was an incredible addition, and exactly what the family needed at the time he'd joined them. James had been well-aware there was a girl, adopted by the Longes, they'd eventually discovered. In truth, he never thought the child would wind up here at his table, but what was one more mouth to feed if it meant his sister didn't distract herself with another disastrous relationship?

Fidèle was busying himself amongst the smaller group, serving up warm bread rolls and soup before the main dish, studying Kathryn with curiosity and trying not to make it obvious.

"Benji calls her 'Kate' or 'Katie', so that's what we'll be calling her too, as her family."

James nodded at his sister, as he took a sip from his glass before setting it back on the table. Julia had already explained that the girl was mute, which proposed a new sort of problem if they were to groom her into a Laurence. She'd need to learn how to communicate eloquently, how to charm those she came into contact with, and most importantly, how to play them. He couldn't imagine those things could be done effectively by a mute girl.

"What is the plan for her when you return to Hogwarts?" James asked, his gaze shifting to the little girl whom Fidèle was now fussing over, getting exasperated at his repeated question if she'd like a roll with butter. "Fidèle, just give her the roll and leave her be."

James sat up slightly, picking up his spoon and indicating to Kate with it. "You just wave him off if he bothers you too much. He means well, but he's a bit of a fuss."

Dinner was at an irregular time.

She didn't like it.

Kathryn sat, her back uncomfortably straight against the cushioning of her chair. She was on autopilot, remembering her silent graces and the manners that had been drilled into her while she'd still been in the place that was no longer home. Small bites to avoid food pouches in her cheeks, no slurping, never having the spoon clink against the surface of the bowl, no talking with her mouth full--a struggle Eleanor Longe had never had when it came to the little girl.

Despite being sandwiched between her brother and the woman, whom she understood to be her new mother, Kate looked neither to the right nor to the left. The little girl kept her eyes trained on the warm bowl of thin soup. She took small swipes toward the bottom of her bowl, fishing out small chunks of carrots and eating them one by one.

The soup would be consumed after.

"Benji calls her 'Kate' or 'Katie', so that's what we'll be calling her too, as her family."

They were talking about her again. Without ever meaning--or wanting--to, Kate had become the topic of several conversations since her arrival. Quiet as she was, it had proven easy for some of the family to forget she was standing there. It resulted in many comments being passed about her as if she weren't there at all. Mute, they'd said. Strange, she'd heard someone mutter. Unsettling. Even now, from the corner of her eyes, she could see the house elf scrutinising her as if trying to figure out where she fit in this evidently large puzzle.

She didn't know. Benny had said this was her home now and that these people were family. A new family. Again. New names to remember, a new history to rehearse to perfection. Kathryn had waited for that, too. While they set her room in order and--true to Miss Julia's words, had burned her old things--the little girl had waited for the pieces of parchment with the names of everyone she was already meant to have known her whole life. She waited to be told who she was close to and who had never particularly cared for her, who had snuck her cakes when her parents--were there two this time?--weren't looking, who she swam naked in the stream near the castle with when they were toddlers, what she liked to eat, what she was interested in, whose lead she was meant to follow.

It never came. None of it did. Instead, Kate was left with a blank script and no idea of how to be. So she sat, in loud silence, blowing gently at the steaming chunks of carrots before placing them in her mouth to the distracting din of the elf's concerns.

"Little Miss Katie? Butter for the little missis? No butter? Little Miss--Little Miss--"

"Fidèle, just give her the roll and leave her be."

The house elf obediently plopped the overly buttered roll of bread onto the saucer by her soup bowl, drawing the small blonde's disdain. Too much butter. She would be fat. Her leotards wouldn't fit then her moth--oh...right. She wasn't her mother anymore.

The movement at the top of the table drew her attention.

"You just wave him off if he bothers you too much. He means well, but he's a bit of a fuss."

She didn't nod. The only acknowledgement she gave of the man's words was that impassive stare that seemed to go through him before she returned her gaze to her soup.

When she thought no one was looking, she tapped her brother's leg beneath the table before sliding her saucer across the table to him. You weren't meant to leave anything on your plate. It wasn't allowed. Benny had always helped her out of trouble, and a deeply ingrained part of her remembered that. Now, she silently requested that he rescue her from this offense.

Dinner was at its normal time, seven.

Fidèle was the sort of house elf that liked his schedules and kept the family strictly on them. He was a fusser of the highest level, able to be calmed and redirected only by James, a bit of a nuisance in his persistence with everyone else. He was gentle, polite and sweet - a far cry from some of the horror stories Julia had heard about some elves that served other pureblood families. But a nuisance all the same. Years ago, she'd asked her father to do away with the idea of house elves, find the whole idea of an indentured servant a bit distasteful, but her father insisted keeping an elf was far more economical than hiring a butler.

Apparently James had felt the same, and now Fidèle was harassing poor Kate over butter.

It had been a whirlwind since Kate had arrived. It was a matter of settling her into the rooms off of Julia's, ensuring she was comfortable and only kept the belongings she wanted. Julia was happy to rid the poor girl of everything she didn't want, making sure that in her new home, the sweet child would be comfortable and feel like herself. Who she was, Julia hadn't quite figured out. Her being mute didn't lend to long conversations, but they tried, writing back and forth on parchment as long as it made sense to.

Julia had never been a mother before Benji, and truth be told she was still trying to figure him out. Adding a little girl, quiet as she was, was daunting and the woman was adamant to get it right. It began at making sure she was comfortable and felt safe, which meant keeping Benji around constantly until she did. For his credit, the boy was overjoyed to have his little sister back, and it didn't take any prodding from Julia to have him spending every moment he had with her.

"What is the plan for her when you return to Hogwarts?"

Julia smiled lightly, watching as Kate pushed her buttered roll deliberately towards her brother. "She'll come with me, of course. I won't be leaving her behind," she said easily, tearing off a piece of her buttered roll to dip in the soup. "There will probably be a week once a month where I leave her here with Amelia and Edith so she can get accustomed to the castle and family without me."

Amelia nodded eagerly, while Edith tilted her head at the little girl slightly. "Do you think that's wise?" Edith asked softly. "I don't mind keeping her. I'm sure she'll love playing with Adira and Claire. But she'll still be adjusting to you, won't she Julia?"

Julia's eyes found Edith's, her face stoic and serious as it usually was. Over the past year and a half, since Edward's passing, the two women had found a new understanding and kinship where before there had been antagonization and resentment. Still, Edith could be a killjoy at the best of times, and an insufferable meddler at her worst. "She will, but she also needs to get to know all of you. You're just as much her family as Benji and I am," Julia said, popping the bread into her mouth and giving Edith a light shrug.

"I think it's a brilliant idea," Amelia's enthusiastic reply came. "Of course you do, Amelia, you're idealistic," Edith said with an almost bored air, waving her hand at her younger sister-in-law. Amelia pulled a face, and shook her head slightly as Fidèle offered her another glass of cranberry juice. Since Amelia was nursing, the poor woman had been bombarded with various juices at every hour by the house elf, insisting it was good for her milk supply.

Julia thanked Merlin for small mercies, having never been pregnant or nursing around Fidèle.

"It makes sense, sister," Amelia said, studying the girl for a moment, "If she's ours, she may as well truly be ours. It'll be like having sweet little Rosie all over again." Julia raised her eyebrows before looking at James and sharing an amused smile with him. "Well, perhaps we can stop talking about her like she's not right here," Julia said lightly, turning to Kate. "Pumpkin juice or chocolate milk with your main, love? Fidèle will get it for you."

It was truly the best thing that could have happened to him.

Aside from hitting the adoption jackpot with a mum who actually loved him and wanted good things for him, his sister was being taken in now too. It was a relief. For three years now, Benji had agonized over Kate’s safety and happiness, knowing he had no control over what happened to her. It had been a hard pill to swallow after looking after her for so long, and ensuring she was taken care of as best he could.

Now, he didn’t need to worry anymore. Julia was a great mum, and knowing his sister would forever just be down the hall from him set his heart at ease in a way he couldn’t explain. His little sister was the most important person in his life, and they’d never be separated again.

He’d spent the better part of the day helping go through the stuff Kate had brought with her from that weirdo house, chucking out all the portraits that she’d been magically added to. Keeping what toys and outfits she pointed to and none of what she didn’t.

It was still strange, knowing what her little voice sounded like, and still not hearing it, aside from when she’s cried. He remembered her bubbly laugh and the way her voice inflected when she was excited to show or tell him something. He hoped, one day, as she settled and realized no one would ever hurt her, that she’d find her voice again.

And if she didn’t, they’d figure it out.

He was busy, finishing his soup and mopping up the last of it with his roll to pay much attention to the conversation around them. It was his favorite pastime, eating, and he knew with summer coming, he’d have much fewer opportunities to just sit and savor his meals. His girlfriend would make sure of that. For some reason she thought other activities were more important.

He didn’t know who that girl was and what she’d done with Ruth Elliot.

A little nudge against his leg and he looked to the left to see Kate pushing her saucer towards him, obviously wanting him to take the buttered roll. He did, tearing it in half, only because he could use more, before pushing the other half back at his sister. “Eat,” he said, shoving his half in his mouth, his cheeks puffing out in buttered bread-y bliss. “You’re too skinny.” She was, in his opinion. It was no surprise that their sorry fucking excuse for a biological mother had starved her, but she should have put on more weight with the Longes if they were feeding her well.

When the house elf came back around, Benji thanked him as he took his pumpkin juice and pushed his bowl away, ready for the main course. It was the best thing about having a fancy pants family. They ate like kings, really. It was a miracle they weren’t all rotund humans.

The chatter turned to Kate living at Hogwarts and Benji’s eyes lit up. “Hear that, Katie?” he grinned at her, motioning again for her to eat her roll. “I’ll still get to see you every day. Could even come and brush your hair for you if you want. Like old times.”

The good part of old times, anyway. And he dared any of the other blokes to tell him something about brushing his little sister’s hair for her. They’d all find themselves at the friendly end of his knuckles for their troubles.

"She'll come with me, of course. I won't be leaving her behind."

Was she leaving again? Missing the larger context of the conversation, Kathryn could only sit and listen to the plans being made for her...again. When she'd arrived, they'd said this would be her home now. The little girl had thought, it seemed foolishly, that Benny repeating it meant it must have been true. This was his home. He'd shown her his room not far from hers. All his things had been there, his books for school, his clothing, his art supplies. She was reasonably sure this was where he lived.

But now they were talking about another castle and her going off with Miss Julia to live there instead. It caused a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest, one she barely flinched through, at the thought of being separated again.

Moving, more moving. It wouldn't end. There would always be another castle and always somewhere else she needed to be. Disappointment brought her shoulders into a sag as she continued to listen to what would become of her. She was to be between two castles, getting to know people, integrating until it seemed she'd always belonged. Between that, there would be periods of being kept away by the woman--her new mother--Miss Julia--her.

Kathryn knew better than to protest. She was to be seen and seldom heard. Questions were not an invitation for her input but a means through which further communication could be passed along. Here, no questions had even been asked, only declarations.

“Eat. You’re too skinny.”

Her mother hadn't thought she was too skinny. Kate looked down at the half a roll her brother had returned, her stomach churning at the thought of eating even half of it. The corner of her lips lifted with derision. She nudged it back to him, silent insistence that he finish what he started when--

"Pumpkin juice or chocolate milk with your main, love? Fidèle will get it for you."

Kathryn startled, having not expected anyone else to be speaking to her. When she'd zoned out of the conversation, the older women had been busy discussing her, not discussing with her. To have that attention suddenly turned on her had heat and colour rushing to her face as she realised she'd been caught off guard. The little girl wasn't prepared with her usual poise and composure, but a sudden, uncomfortable fluttering in her chest. She realised very quickly that she hadn't heard the question, while managing to convince herself that a spotlight had now been cast on her.

She mustn't shrink; it was unbecoming. Her shoulders must remain erect and her posture uncompromising.

Uncertain of what to do, she nodded, hoping it would be enough. Whatever the question was, the answer was yes.

“Hear that, Katie? I’ll still get to see you every day. Could even come and brush your hair for you if you want. Like old times.”

Everyday? Her eyes widened before she could rein in her expression, delight creeping through the crack in her porcelain veneer. Every day? All of them? But...but they'd said...she would be going to a new castle with Miss Julia. Was Benji going, too? She dared not hope, but the pitter-patter thumping inside her chest warned that hope was creeping in anyway. Her head swivelled from her brother to his mother...their...mother. Those deep and elusive oceans screamed with questions her lips wouldn't ask, silent pleas to be assured it was true.

If Benny was there, she supposed it didn't matter what castle she slept at.

---

Monday, June 13, 1921
Julia's sitting room
Nearing 10 AM

She was dressed and ready. Her mother had informed her a week before that they would be having an appointment at 10 with a gentleman who would be bringing her something. The woman hadn't said what it was or who the man was, but had smiled and insisted it would be something good.

Good.

A lot of things could be good, objectively speaking. New gloves were good, but she'd already given her some of those. Garden parties were ...good, but the one they'd had on Saturday had been less good. Then there were things that others considered good, but that terrified the little girl, like when Benny said they had to 'live a little', that they had to 'do the unexpected' and 'let loose'. Her brother became a terrifying creature then, proposing things that made her heart flutter uncomfortably, and her stomach drop sickeningly.

Her mother had said chocolate was good, candies, ice cream...milkshakes, but those couldn't be good.

Kathryn, back straight, hands folded in her lap above the silken skirt of her dress, pondered in the final moments which 'good' this one would be. The little girl sat with her legs crossed daintily at her ankles, her hair pulled tight into a neat but otherwise unremarkable bun at the back of her head.

9:54.

Blue eyes centred themselves on the door of the sitting room, occasionally glancing back to the clock on the wall.

9:57.

9:58.

9:59.

Kathryn smoothed the fabric of her dress, wanting it wrinkle-free for the moment their guest arrived. She straightened her already impossibly rigid posture, anticipating the moment their appointment would begin.

10:00.

A knock at the door. The little girl softly breathed her relief. Kathryn looked to her mother, her silent gaze asking whether it was this mysterious person who would bring them 'good'. 10:00 sharp. Perfectly in line with what had been promised. For every minute after the agreed-upon time, the little girl would only have sunk further and further into anxious speculation.

She had thought to cancel the appointment.

The family was in an uproar and had been since Saturday night. Rosalie was gone - having taken the money her father apparently kept squirreled away in a not-so-secret compartment. For what? Who knew. It didn't matter. What did matter was that the family was actively looking for her - and Cassian. Julia knew if they were found, it would only spell tragedy for what came next.

Sunday had been nerve-wrecking, Leo storming about the place in a rage she'd never seen before, Arthur hot on his tail, contacting everyone he knew to try and track the teens down. James had thrown all of his resources into it as well, certain that Rosalie was only going to end up in a life-or-death situation again, and wanted to get her home safe as soon as he could.

Julia knew better. Rosalie would never be safe within these walls again, as long as Leo lived and breathed.

Gretchen had put on the show of the heartsick mother, crying into her hands and wailing for her daughter whenever she thought it'd get her attention. Edith paid her zero attention, having witnessed the way Gretchen had treated Rosalie over the years. Amelia, sweet as she was, tried. All her attention did was make Gretchen wail dramatically louder.

This morning it had quieted, and Julia thought perhaps she and Kate could do with getting out of the place. Maybe head to the beach and just spend a day quietly by the ocean. The woman needed a good cry, and knew she could sit and just snuggle with her girl, watching the day drift by.

Alas, it was an appointment that Julia had made with Kate's well-being in mind. She could cry another day.

"Relax a little," Julia said, forcing a small smile as she smoothed a single wayward hair that had somehow been missed from Kate's perfect little bun.

10:00.

A knock at the door.

Fidèle entered, his large eyes visibly tired and worn from the weekend's stress, but he nodded politely. "Mister Conway has arrived to see Lady Julia and Little Miss Katie." Julia thanked him as he ushered in the man who carried a smart light-brown leather briefcase. He was dressed humbly in slacks and suspenders with a freshly-ironed collared shirt.

"Mister Conway, thank you for coming," Julia said, ushering him to sit in the armchair opposite Kathryn. "I haven't told her the reason for your visit, but I suspect she'll be quite excited when she sees what you have for her."

Julia smiled at her daughter, turning back to the man expectantly.

"Relax a little."

...Relax.

Wasn't she relaxed? Her breathing was even, her limbs limbre despite the tautness of her spine. Her heart wasn't hammering terribly inside her chest until it made her feel sick. The little girl was full of anticipation for the morning's visitor, and had gone stiff when her mother managed to find that one loose strand of hair after she'd so carefully brushed earlier, but did that make her...not relaxed?

Kathryn was suddenly self-conscious of the way she sat. She didn't know whether to find a way to sit even straighter or to bring her shoulders inward. Did she raise her chin? Lower it? For the first time that morning, the little girl questioned what to do with her hands. Once clasped and still, they now stirred in her lap. She unclasped them, reclasped them, moved them closer to her stomach, pushed them out toward her knees, where she rested them over the left kneecap.

No. That wasn't right.

She pulled them back to her lap. Below, her legs shuffled. Kate flung one over the other--careful, not crass, not disturbing the fabric of her dress's skirt.

The small blonde girl became so engrossed with the action of 'relaxing' that she never noticed the man enter until he was suddenly sitting in front of her. All her fidgeting died in an instant, the little girl going rigid again.

"I haven't told her the reason for your visit, but I suspect she'll be quite excited when she sees what you have for her."

Excited?

Blue eyes washed over the polished but simple man, silently questioning his existence and his purpose there in her mother's sitting room. There was nothing particularly exciting about the sensible, freshly-ironed shirt he wore, nothing remarkable in those dull, watery grey eyes or the way his hair swept to the left. His briefcase was just that, old with worn leather but otherwise in good condition. The pair locked gazes, Kathryn's unwavering and impassive. Doubt grew on his expression, doubt at her mother's words that excitement resided in such an uncompromising frame.

Mr. Conway cleared his throat, trying to dispel his discomfort. The man shuffled in his seat, finally offering her a small, uncomfortable smile before turning a more genuine one to her mother. He reached for his briefcase, snapping the latches open.

"Sorry to have had you waiting so long, Lady Julia. As I'd said, these are made to order, and I had to be sure it was the right fit after reading through everything you had sent over from the therapist."

The therapist? That woman spoke a lot, so many words, most of them useless, a few of them confusing. Kathryn hadn't spoken to her in months--if not a year...'spoken'...being a term used loosely. Their sessions, the ones they'd had, couldn't be considered productive. The woman spoke. The little girl stared. The clock struck the end of their appointment. The Laurences hadn't seen any need to keep up with such frivolous practices.

Mr. Conway reached into his briefcase and pulled out a pearl-colored box. He extended it to the woman. "It will..." his gaze shifted briefly to Kate."...require a bit of blood, if that's alright. After that, you shouldn't have any problems with her communicating."

With who communicating?

Kathryn looked at her mother, waiting for someone to explain.

"Sorry to have had you waiting so long, Lady Julia. As I'd said, these are made to order, and I had to be sure it was the right fit after reading through everything you had sent over from the therapist."

When she'd first heard of Mister Conway and his ability to create such objects to help those wizards or witches with special needs, Julia had sought him out quickly, wanting to be able to give her daughter a voice in any way she could.

Being a girl in this sort of world was silencing enough. She didn't want Kate to grow up with the ideas that even her simplest thoughts didn't matter. If didn't want to speak - or couldn't - then Julia would offer her another avenue.

Mister Conway, as gracious and polite as he was, still looked at her child as most people did. With caution, judgement and misunderstanding. It hurt her heart every time it happened. Most didn't know what Kathryn and Benji had experienced, and while they had processed it in very different ways, it wasn't the little girl's fault that she was the way she was.

That was Liza Cuddrun's fault.

"No need to apologize," Julia said evenly, flicking her fingers slightly so the man would return his gaze to her, instead of her obviously nervous child. "I understand these things take time and appreciate you bumping us to the top of your waiting list." The few hundred extra galleons James had thrown the crafter's way certainly hadn't hurt to persuade him.

"It will...require a bit of blood, if that's alright. After that, you shouldn't have any problems with her communicating."

Julia took the pearl-colored box into her hands and opened it. Her eyes set on a soft quill, the feather light and perfectly smooth. She plucked it from the box, turning it over a time or two to lightly inspect it. It was beautiful, finely crafted and delicate - just like Kathryn. Her eyes shifted to her daughter and she gave her a small smile, holding out the quill for the little girl to take and inspect for herself.

"It's enchanted," Julia said, "It'll write out the words that you want to say, instantly, so there won't be any delay in conversations. And it will only write what you want, and nothing more." She glanced back at Mister Conway to ensure this was accurate. "Isn't that right, Mister Conway?"

A bit of blood. Kathryn wouldn't fuss, but that wasn't something that Julia necessarily took solace in. She wanted her daughter to feel like she had autonomy and choices in her life. Julia had learned, especially over recent events, that it was important her daughter - while being a Laurence - still felt like her life was her own.

She didn't ever again want to stand in front of the Arundel pharmacy and have to say goodbye to a child she loved.

"Little, he needs to prick your finger to make sure the quill works just for you. It'll only hurt a moment, and I'll sit right here with you. Is that alright?" She waited a moment for her daughter to agree, before turning back to the man with a nod to go ahead.

Blood? Her blood? It would ruin her gloves. They were stark white, not a spot or stain in sight—her favourite pair—next to the powder blue that sat so well against her pale hands.

Blood wasn't neat. It wasn't tidy; it wasn't orderly. It was messy and bold, and it stained. Her mother would no doubt assure her that 'a quick spell would take it out', and she would be left scowling while she waited for it to be done. Kathryn looked between the pair, unsure she wanted to have anything to do with something that tarnished her gloves. Not that it mattered. Her mother had called Mr. Conway's attention back to her, returning the conversation to the adults.

It was just as well. Kate was fine with sitting there and waiting for it to be over. She preferred to. It required very little of her to be good, and if she was still enough, she could often avoid the attention of others.

Incurious eyes fell from the pearl box her mother held, showing no particular interest in the exchange. It wasn't unusual for her mother to have items brought in. She often spoke of the 'old ways' and how someday she'd teach them to her. There were artefacts she could either touch—she seldom did—or was explicitly told to avoid. Some were on display; others she watched her hide away with an extra reminder for her to stay away.

Kathryn needed no such reminders.

One was always sufficient.

This one was one she could touch. With further explanation, it became clear that it was...for her? That warranted a second look as her mother extended it to her. Golden stem. The feather looked smooth. Carefully, she took it, her eyes doing the only examination she required.

"It's enchanted. It'll write out the words that you want to say, instantly, so there won't be any delay in conversations. And it will only write what you want, and nothing more."

Enchanted?

Instantly?

Haste made waste.

Kathryn's brows knitted together, her gaze remaining on the quill. The little girl dreaded the very thought of poorly formed letters, sloppy loops, and too much pressure that left little ink splotches. It would make her work ugly; her words would be tarnished by a force outside of herself, a thing she couldn't control.

Then there was the matter of words. Her words. She'd begun carefully writing them when the required responses went beyond what a nod or a shake of her head could provide. Benny didn't have the patience for it. She didn't think most did, so she'd stopped. It didn't matter, not really. Rarely did she have something she wanted to add to any conversation—rarely did she know what to say. Kathryn was the sort of girl who thought too much, and by the time she was done, others had moved on, leaving no need for her careful cursive.

Her mother said it would write only what she wanted it to, but...what if...she didn't have anything to say? What if others discovered she was as hollow as she felt?

"Isn't that right, Mister Conway?"

"Yes!" the man interjected quickly, turning his attention back to her. "Yes, yes, that's what the blood is for. Think of it as an...anchor!" He tried to animate his voice, thinking this might win over the stoic child, who only continued her impassive staring. He cleared his throat. "It will tether the quill to you in a manner not unlike a wand, where intention will make all the difference. You'll have no worries about anyone getting into those secret little thoughts of yours, young Miss."

He tapped her head with affection.

She never blinked.

"Little, he needs to prick your finger to make sure the quill works just for you. It'll only hurt a moment, and I'll sit right here with you. Is that alright?"

It wasn't.

Kathryn nodded, understanding it was the more acceptable answer. Her chest rose high as she inhaled her courage. A prolonged moment later, she pulled the glove from her hand, deciding it was better to avoid the stain. Her fingers recoiled immediately, her skin crawling at this little hint of vulnerability. Already, she could feel the prickles running up her hand. Her chest tightened, and it took everything in her not to withdraw her hand and return it to its silken safety. Her hand trembled, not from fear but from the discomfort of the exposure.

Mr. Conway stepped forward with the kind of care that bordered on hesitation. He seemed almost afraid to approach in case he might break something delicate. The man looked back to her mother, silently asking whether she was sure. When she nodded, he took Kathryn by the hand, turning it over to display her wrist.

"Right here," he told her, tapping lightly by a vein. He took the quill from her other hand, turning the tip toward her skin. A prick, that was all it was. It wasn't anything remarkable, but it still gave him pause. Kathryn never flinched beyond the faint tug at the corner of her lips the moment the quill broke the skin. A thin stream of blood poured out, but even then, the little girl seemed wholly unaffected, almost as if she wasn't there at all. He looked to Julia again, now very clearly seeking reassurance that this was all truly alright.

The girl bled; she was human, but...nevermind.

He dipped the tip into the blood before taking the box and replacing it. He put the cover on top and gave a swish of his wand. A puff of lilac smoke swirled, vanishing within seconds. When the last of it cleared, he extended the box to Kathryn again, a faint smile in place.

"Why don't you give it a try?" The man rummaged through his briefcase and pulled out a length of parchment. "There are enchanted notebooks I can recommend. Charmed to be endless, but let's see how she likes it first." He looked to Julia again, more excited than he'd been a moment ago. "Go ahead, ask her something."

Not the finger then.

Mr. Conway hadn't mentioned it would come from her wrist, but she supposed whatever got the job done.

As Kathryn removed her glove, her little chest heaving slightly heavier than it normally did, Julia ran her hand gently along her daughter's back for reassurance. In a way, though the woman knew Kate was still too young, the little girl would need to get used to the idea of blood and sacrificing her own. Blood magic was a core part of the family's practices, and within a year or so, Julia would begin teaching her the fundamentals.

Slow at first. Smaller rituals and spells to ease her into it and help her understand that some of the most powerful magic wasn't neat and tidy. This wasn't so different. Blood was a binder - an amplifier, and Kathryn's was potent with her wild and untamed magic.

Mister Conway pricked the end of the quill quickly against a tiny vein, drawing the blood neatly into the tip. When he withdrew to finish the binding, Julia quickly waved her own wand over her little girl's wrist, cleaning any remnants and sealing the lightly-punctured skin. "Good job," Julia murmured, taking the little silk glove and holding it open for Kate to slip her hand back into.

She was well-aware that Kathryn was particular about her hands - as she was many things in her life - and that she was an obedient child, often willing to do things she didn't want to. Without saying the words, Julia had come to know in the year they had been a family that her daughter was anxious about the idea of being 'good'. And while obedience was valued within the overall Laurence family, Julia also wanted her daughter to start understanding that she did have choices, and she was allowed to say when something made her uncomfortable or scared.

Still, she saw what others might not. Where some saw a child crippled by the need to please, Julia saw bravery. She saw a girl that had overcome so much, that had endured more than any person should have to, and yet she still pushed through her fears and hesitation when it mattered.

There was a spark of a fire within her - one that the girl probably didn't even know existed - and Julia fully intended to nourish it until Kathryn could wield it on her own. A blaze - contained and yet powerful - controlled by a flick of the child's fingertips.

The first step was giving her her voice back.

"Why don't you give it a try? There are enchanted notebooks I can recommend. Charmed to be endless, but let's see how she likes it first."

Julia nodded when he instructed her to ask the first question. She smiled at her daughter, excited for this new chapter that was opening in front of them both. She'd start easy. Ensure that she didn't ask anything too important in front of the man that was a perfect stranger to Kathryn.

Something still that would make her daughter think - and decide how she wanted to answer. She needed to trust that the quill would only write what she wished it to.

"What is your full name?"

It was a loaded question. The girl had had many in her short ten years of life. And no matter how she answered - it would be the right one, because it was hers.

"Good job."

It didn't feel like a good job. Kathryn's chest became tighter the moment she watched her blood spill from the quill's prick. It was small—negligible, even. To most, it was nothing to fuss about, but the constriction in her chest grew unbearable. It may as well have been a gushing fountain with how monumental it seemed in the little girl's eyes.

What if it scarred? Was it big enough for infection? Her hand burned at the thought. The once uncomfortable tingles that shot through her hand and up her arm became wiggles, as if something had gotten under her skin and made itself a home there. Kate's gaze remained trained on the spot. She missed the man's gentle smile in the same way she missed him offering her the box again.

In a flash, the cut was gone, taking her fixation with it. Overwhelmed, it never occurred to her that her mother had swooped in to spare her the inevitable spiral. All she knew was that the offending liquid had been cleared, returning her wrist to its unblemished porcelain. The glove appeared at the corner of her vision, and the little girl snapped into motion immediately. Without a moment's thought or hesitation, Kathryn thrust her hand back into the glove, feeling the searing heat fade with each inch of skin that was recovered.

For the first time in minutes, she felt her lungs loosen. Breathing no longer required the sum of her concentration. That space was now occupied by the box that Mr. Conway extended to her.

Kate looked to her mother, as if silently asking her permission. No. Not quite permission. Assurance. Assurance that this new thing wouldn't further disrupt the carefully curated inner rhythm she'd woken with.

Earlier, she'd told her that she'd done a good job. Kathryn thought...perhaps...she might like to hear it again, so she took the box, letting her blue oceans wash over the mystery quill of wonders.

The small child barely registered the man's excitement or the shift that occurred in her mother. To her, this wasn't a moment to be eagerly anticipated but to be interrogated. When she was done, would they expect that same excitement in her? Was she meant to smile? Was this the part where she offered a hug of gratitude and expressed some believable degree of interest? She tried, genuinely, to smile but couldn't feel her lips. Her limbs were no more cooperative. The hug she envisioned performing vanished like smoke, getting no further than mere intention without execution.

Horror struck as her mind caught up to the rest of the conversation. She would have to answer a question. On multiplication? She hadn't revised her 7 times table lately--she didn't know what 7x8 was. Why didn't she? She had last week. Was it geography? The girl was nearly halfway through memorising all the counties in England, but...but she wasn't ready.

Her mother would know she hadn't studied hard enough. They'd have to change her schedule.

"What is your full name?"

Her...name?

The quill rose from the pearl-coloured box, springing to life with a flourish before drifting over to the parchment Mr. Conway placed on the coffee table.

Kathryn Elise Cuddr

The quill stopped suddenly, mimicking the sudden, grating halt that took place in her head. Her mind went blank at once, as if hit by a full-on collision from all sides.

Cuddrun.

That...it... How long had it been since she'd been 'Cuddrun'? Did she still count? Benny didn't use the name anymore. He'd thrown it away when he threw away the old brownstone on their dirty street. She was meant to, too. They'd already taken it from her twice. She was a Longe then she became a Laurence, yanking her further and further from the little girl she used to know. Did she miss her? Was she meant to? The questions left her paralysed and that paralysis brought her distress.

It wasn't a difficult question. Intellectually, she knew the answer. Miss Julia let her live with them. It had been well over a year, and her name had already been changed. She'd signed it so many times, sometimes still using "Longe" before catching herself in a thoughtless moment.

This wasn't a thoughtless moment; it was one of being overwhelmed.

Her face filled with searing heat as the evidence of her error stared back at her. She wasn't allowed to be "Cuddrun" anymore.

Kathryn reached for the parchment, swatting the quill away before taking the thing in both hands and ripping at it...viciously...with much purpose, doing everything she could to erase it. Again and again she tore, careful to keep the pieces as even as possible. The sudden action startled Mr. Conway into action, albeit uncertain action. The man stepped forward as if he meant to grab the parchment or the little girl but seemed to remember himself and pulled back.

"No, no, there's no need," he tried, extending his hands helplessly. "We...I have extra parchment. The quill also knows to slide down the page if there's been a mistake."

She couldn't hear him. Intent as she was to have the parchment disappear, Mr. Conway had become background noise.

It was time for Mister Conway to take his leave.

She could see the crimson spreading across her daughter's cheeks as she stared down at the name her quill had written. For whatever reason, it caused a negative reaction within the girl. Anger? Confusion? Sadness? Julia wasn't sure, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Kathryn was a Cuddrun, as well as a Laurence. Changing her name didn't take that away from her anymore than it took it from Benji. She was allowed to be who she was, and Julia never wanted her to feel shame for her roots or even acknowledging them. They were a part of Kathryn's story, and she was entitled to them.

"Thank you Mister Conway," Julia said politely, but with a gentle indication that it was time for him to excuse himself. Kathryn was tearing apart the parchment into little pieces now, and there was no reason to allow the man a glimpse into the world her daughter lived in. It was for their family to navigate - not outsiders. People as a whole were nosy and gossips. The last thing she needed was Mister Conway spreading word about the 'strange' little Laurence girl.

"Oh, ah, of course, Lady Julia. Thank you so much for your business, and I'll have one of those enchanted notebooks sent over this week. Free of charge."

The man quickly packed his belongings as Julia kept an eye on Kate, motioning her with a slight nod of her head to try and calm down. "That's very kind of you," Julia offered him a smile as she led him to the door, before ushering him out with another heartfelt thanks.

She looked at her daughter as she leaned against the door, her expression soft and she gave a little sigh. "That was a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Her tone was gentle, but there was a bit of amusement laced on her tongue as she pushed off the door and wandered back to the sofa. "Katie," she said, reaching for a nearby book on the coffee table. "There's nothing wrong with your name. Either of them. They're who you are. Sometimes you'll probably feel more like Katie Cuddrun, and other times more like Kathryn Laurence. And someday, you'll realize they're the same person."

She leaned over to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Let's practice a little more, until you get the hang of it." She settled herself in, wrapping an arm around her daughter, as she set the book down in Kate's lap, followed by the piece of parchment. The quill raised and hovered over the parchment, waiting for the little girl's thoughts.

"How do you feel right now?"

Kathryn never noticed the man take his leave. She never heard the door. She barely heard her mother's comment on the dramatic nature of what could only be considered a shameful meltdown.

Dramatic.

It hadn't felt that way when she began ripping the parchment. Her only concern had been removing the mistake before anyone else could bear witness to it. A lot went into a name, and everyone cared a great deal about what you answered to. Her other mother – the second one – never missed a chance to berate her on the few occasions she'd forgotten who she was meant to be. To forget the new story was a grave affront to the woman who'd worked so hard to erase every thread that had anything to do with her Cuddrun upbringing.

It was important no one ever found out.

Julia hadn't said as much – had never said as much. While it had taken her some time, Kathryn was coming around to the idea that she was no Eleanor Longe and didn't – for whatever maddening and confusing and...comforting reason – hold her to the same standards. But old habits died hard, especially those engraved in blood and suffering. Survival branded them into her soul, stains that no amount of scrubbing seemed capable of removing.

Julia wasn't Eleanor, but Kathryn worried over offending her all the same. The woman had already done so much. She'd offered her a new home and a new family, allowing her to be returned to her brother. She'd given her lessons and allowed her to keep up with her dancing. When the time came, she'd repaid her with the wrong name on parchment, written by a magic quill.

"Katie."

She tore the last of the parchment as her name greeted her, drawing her attention to the woman who had drawn close.

"There's nothing wrong with your name. Either of them. They're who you are. Sometimes you'll probably feel more like Katie Cuddrun, and other times more like Kathryn Laurence. And someday, you'll realize they're the same person."

They weren't.

Katie Cuddrun had always been hungry, dirty and afraid. In the end, her hair had been matted beyond any hope of salvation, and her frail body had teetered on the brink of giving up. She'd been a pale ghost inside a home without warmth, save what came from a boy who eventually disappeared. Katie Cuddrun never saw Benny again. Kathryn Longe did, then Kathryn Laurence. The latter pair was never hungry. They never abided the feel of even the thinnest film of dirt or grime on their skin. They were well educated, proper, and delicate. They had meals promptly at designated hours, wore the finest dresses and did not worry about either parent stumbling in smelling of a bar or returning from a catatonic state to wreak havoc.

She liked them better, but they came at a cost. Nothing short of perfection would do. Kathryn didn't think she could bear being surrendered a third time.

So, no. They couldn't be the same – they just couldn't. If they were, then Kathryn Laurence could be dirty, too. She could have her hair shaved to rescue it from the buildup of oils and dirt that tangled it.

She could return to being worth nothing.

The thought terrified her. Kathryn doubled down on her rejection, placing the ripped pieces of parchment into a neat stack on the corner of the table furthest from her. She rejected Katie Cuddrun and everything she represented, wanting nothing to do with that unloved and unwanted little girl.

She was Kathryn and would remain so.

"Let's practice a little more, until you get the hang of it."

The little girl straightened her spine, prepared to further distance herself from the girl she no longer wished to know. She would do better on the next question—she was determined to. Her eyes caught the quill as it rose from their corners. Kathryn stiffened against her mother's comforting arm, not allowing herself the grace of melting into her touch. Complacency drove error, and she'd already made enough for the morning.

"How do you feel right now?"

She faltered. Two questions asked, neither she'd studied for. How...did she feel? Her? Was she meant to feel something? Was there a right feeling? Kathryn's brows knitted as her hesitation grew. Her feelings were never something she'd pondered, finding they did little to alter her reality. Now, she was being asked, and she didn't have an answer at first.

She thought hard, her silence growing heavy with contemplation.

My ears are warm.

She paused a moment, interrogating herself further.

My cheeks and chest are warm, too. My heart is beating too quickly.

Julia wouldn't know - not anytime soon she figured - whether her words had any impact on the little girl. She meant every word she said, but whether Kate took them to heart or not would be left in the void until she expressed it one way or another.

It was a truth that Julia had accepted early on, that her child was different and wasn't going to make parenting her easy. It wasn't that she wasn't up for the challenge or that she didn't embrace exactly who Kathryn was. It just meant she had to be innovative and understand that maybe she wouldn't always know if she was doing right by her. In the year they'd had together, Kathryn and Julia had bonded in a sweet, unique way and the little girl was every bit her daughter as though the woman had birthed her herself.

But they still had so far to go.

She felt Kathryn stiffen beneath her arm, though she wasn't quite sure why. Maybe she didn't want to continue practicing, or more likely Kate was doing what she sometimes did when she became emotional - bury it and push it away.

Benji often did the same, until he couldn't hold it in anymore.

My ears are warm. My cheeks and chest are warm, too. My heart is beating too quickly.

Julia's eyes watched carefully as each letter formed, building the little piece that Kate would let her into. All physical feelings, none of the emotions. She thought for a moment, her eyes reading over the words a few times. "That's what happens when you're feeling anxious or scared about something." She tipped Kate's chin with her finger, gently nudging to look at her.

"What's worrying you, Little?"

They had to start somewhere. And usually 'somewhere' was uncomfortable, but Julia was willing to push that a bit to get her daughter moving in the right direction to understanding that her words and feelings mattered.