December 23rd, 1894 — Godric's Hollow

Still waking, she dreamed of crows. Hundreds upon hundreds of them-- so many they blacked out the sky and choked the cobblestones of a familiar street, and all flying the same winding way. Still waking she followed. Her mother's back was not turned for long, but Ariana had a knack for disappearing in the blink of an eye. In stockinged feet she padded down the streets of Godric's Hollow. The sight of her loose had become common, if still unnerving. Disheveled hair pale as falling snow and dazed eyes which barely turned if someone called out to her. She understood, in some distant way, why Mother wanted her tucked safe at home. It just made her skin itch to sit still for so long-- to ignore the flocks of shrieking birds that only she could see.

How long or how far she ambled, Ariana could not know. It was the birds who stopped. They perched on the posts of an old stone fence long overgrown, and on the shingles of a small cottage. The way the garden they brought Ariana too tangled and writhed, years gone untended, the place almost looked abandoned. Yet the crows croaked a gentle invitation, and Ariana-- not prone to her best reasoning nor her best manners when caught in the throes of a waking dream-- let herself through the garden gate.

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   Morrigan Crowley

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Godric's Hollow lay still under the winter sun. Morrigan was out in the gardens behind her cottage. She was feeding the crows.

The wind came from northwards and it was one to carry icy premonitions. She was therefore not entirely surprised that it blew a messenger into her garden. It was a girl, a small thing without shoes. Her hair was a colorless blonde and from afar, Morrigan wondered if she was being paid a visit by her own past. But no—this girl was elf-like and looked more gentle than she had ever been. "Little darling girl," Morrigan said to her. "You look a long way from home. Have you come to tell me something?"

The crows had scattered at the girl's arrival. Now they settled in the trees around them, and on the roof of the cottage.

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When the woman spoke, Ariana froze in her step just a short ways into the garden. Huge eyes wandered up the path until she found the source. There stood a woman who could have been a crow herself, drowned in mourning black, a sharp intelligence in her gaze. Ariana had never seen her before. She'd have remembered. Yet she felt a certainty, a comfort at laying eyes on this stranger. This was what the crows wanted her to see...

"The crows lead me..." she answered, and airy eyes wandered to the birds gathered on every post and platform. They were... fewer. Smaller. Not the horde of phantom birds she had followed, but they watched her with the same calculating curiosity. "I meet you, today. I don't know why."

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"They led you to me," echoed Morrigan. The crows were watching. Dozens of jet-black eyes glinted around them. Their raspy voices were carried onward by the wind. Morrigan drew closer. She stilted towards the girl through the overgrown grass, every step on her narrow heels a careful act of balance, until she stood an arm's length away from her. Slowly she folded downwards from her towering uprightness into a crouch. She wrapped her arms around her knees and contemplated the little face across from her for a long while.

"There is a reason you were sent here. For us to find out," she finally said. Then she looked upon the dirty stockings that covered the girl's feet. She was missing her shoes. Morrigan said nothing, but she thought about that. Eventually, she shook something out of her long black sleeves. A singular piece of candy in a whimsical paper wrapper fell into her hand.

She held it out to the girl like an offering, or like she was trying to entice a skittish animal into delaying its flight for a little longer. "Tell me your name, darling girl."

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