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Chapter Text

Chrysanthemum
Chapter One :: Lily
(The flower most commonly associated with funeral services as they symbolize the innocence that has been restored to the soul of the departed. The white lily expresses majesty and purity, where as white stargazer lilies specifically symbolize sympathy.)

Falling through time was an odd experience, even for Azalea Dorea Potter-West - a witch who had thought she had experienced everything life had to throw at her. But, in a way, it wasn't truly life throwing her for a loop for once; apparently she could blame her latest Goddamnit moment on Death of all entities.

Rude.

And Wally had been dragged in right alongside her.

Well, at least there was one silver lining about the whole broohaha they had found themselves in, because it seemed the personification of the end of all things really wanted them to see something, because it was tugging them all over the time stream, and honestly? Azalea was starting to get real tired of Death's shit.

Scowling at the golden void around her, Azalea placed her hands on her hips in a move that would have cowed her children and made her husband pause, and glowered. "Alright Death, what do you want?"

A dry chuckle resounded around the husband and wife pair, "As impatient as always, my Mistress."

Azalea clicked her tongue, "Yes, well, you took my husband and I from our home. Nearly scared said husband to death. And you've been dragging us through time and space. I think you're stalling."

"Death?" Wally shot her a look that seemed to be asking her if she were crazy. "Something you were planning on mentioning, Honey?"

Azalea fought down a slight wince, "Something I didn't know how to put into words for you... How do you tell someone you're the legendary Master of Death?"

"We'll be having words when we get home." Wally sighed, but didn't push furthed. "But really? Sassing Death?"

Really, Wally. Her darling husband needed to learn that she needed to be firm with immortal beings, otherwise they would think they could get away with everything.

Death chuckled again, and their boring golden surroundings pulsed and reformed.

Malfoy Manor.

Azalea shivered slightly, eyeing the extravagant decor around her that brought back memories of torture and Hermione's screams. Her hand twitched for her wand on instinct, and her foci cuffs flared in time with her nervous magic, before relaxing when Wally's larger hand slipped around her own.

The shadows around them twisted, gathering together as they rose from the ground, writhing as they melded together to form a humanoid shape. And then the darkness seeped away, leaving the two humans to stare at a mirror image.

The form Death had chosen was that of its Mistress; identical in everything but the eyes that were crimson instead of green, and the lacey black gown.

"Nice dress." Azalea offered dryly, and Death grinned fluttering it's eyelashes at her.

"Thank you, Mistress." It brushed a delicate hand gently across the embroidered waist of the dress. "I must say, your form is very comfortable."

Azalea hummed, studying the personification. "Maybe I should cut my hair again."

"I am so weirded out right now." Wally whispered, voice strained.

Death smiled coyly at Azalea's redheaded husband, and Azalea herself quirked a grin.

"So, Death. Why did you kidnap us?" The witch asked, turning her eyes back to the immortal being. "We do have a life, D."

"You will not if you do not listen to my warnings, Mistress." Death's smile melted away and Azalea found herself pinned with hard red eyes, and Azalea straightened.

"What do you mean, Death?" Azalea's voice was harder, much more serious than the one she usually used; the voice she had used to lead and inspire a student army into battle and to victory.

The voice of the leader she tried to pretend she wasn't.

Death's head tilted, and it looked almost proud as it studied her. "Follow me." Death turned and swept down the hall, leaving Azalea and Wally to exchange a look before following after it. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor, December 1997."

"I recognized the tacky decorating." Azalea drawled, "Not something one easily forgets - even if most of my time here was spent in the dungeons." Wally released a displeased grumble at the mention of her torturers, and the dark-haired witch offered him a small smile.

Death hummed, "What happened on this day was not something within my area of expertise." It continued, coming to a halt in front of a thick door. "The bringing of a new life." It shot them a small glance before melting through the wall as if it didn't exist.

"A baby?" Wally said flatly, and Azalea shrugged, gently tugging her husband into the room after the personification of death.

The scene they came apon was frozen, like someone had paused a movie. A woman with wild dark hair, and a gaunt face that could have once been beautiful contorted in pain lay in the bed before them, bent partially over her distended stomach.

Azalea recognized her immediately.

The woman who murdered her godfather.

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

Wally let out a slow hiss of breath; he recognized the name from the story of Sirius Black's murder, a death that still weighed heavily on Azalea's mind and one that she had tearfully told him when telling him of the man who could and should have raised her.

Death nodded, "The life that Bellatrix Lestrange brought into your world in 1997 would forever be painted with death - an echo of what could have happened to you, Mistress. An orphan who would lose her parents young, raised with cruelty and hatred." Azalea stiffened, "However, where you were born to a loving couple who did not deserve to meet me the way they did, Bellatrix Lestrange and Tom Riddle cared not for the precious life they had brought into the world, and were fated to suffer after death when they turned down the path they did."

Bellatrix and Riddle had had a child.

"Shit."

"Indeed." Death agreed, "You were both expected to be great, but for different reasons. Where you became a hero, this child became a villain."

"Damn." Wally muttered quietly.

"Just as you became the opposite of Tom Riddle, his daughter became the opposite of you." Death continued. "And if she succeeds in her goals, the End will come for all life on Earth."

"I knew it had been too quiet this year." Wally complained lightly, but Azalea knew her husband well enough to know he was trying to bring light to the dark conversation. "No one had tried to destroy the Earth yet."

Azalea cracked a small grin, then turned back to her mirror image. "What does she want?"

Death frowned heavily, red eyes sliding back to the frozen image of Bellatrix Lestrange, it's face serious and it's lips twisted in disgust.

"To control Death."

Chapter Text

Chrysanthemum
Chapter Two :: Gladiolus
(Typically used in fan sprays, which are classic and elegant arrangements for traditional funeral services. Embodies strength of character, sincerity, and moral integrity. They are available in a wide range of colors, including white, pink, red, purple, yellow, orange, salmon, and green.)

Violet -Hexen, when in costume, she had to refer to herself as Hexen- drooped lower in her seat, watching silently as Robin put the youngest and newest member of Young Justice through her paces, of course Hexen didn't have much seniority over the other girl, having only been a member for a little over three months. Miss Martian was a year younger than Hexen herself, twelve going on thirteen, and the youngest daughter of Hermione Jones, Hexen's godmother. The young half-Martian was absolutely dwarfed in both size and personality by the twenty year old Robin, she wasn't used to hand-to-hand combat and, forbidden to use her powers during the spar, she was loosing badly, but she was nothing if not stubborn, Hexen could give her that, and kept getting back up.

"She may not be good at fighting, but she has a fighting spirit." Nightstar said lightly from her seat, and Hexen glanced towards the older girl, raising a hidden eyebrow, and her father's goddaughter grinned. "With a little more practise, she'll be able to hold her own. Robbie wouldn't allow for anything worse."

Hexen hummed in agreement as Miss Martian hit the mat for the twentieth time. "He's nothing if not a persistent teacher."

Nightstar nodded, brushing long black hair over her shoulder as she turned dual-green eyes away from the younger superhero. "Any new news?" The half-Tamaranean asked quietly, and Hexen couldn't stop the small flinch that wracked her frame.

No.

There was no news further than her parents had been missing for over seven months, and that Teddy had a shaky lead but couldn't verify it because, as an Auror, he had given an Oath not to share important details of his cases unless given permission. He had only been able to admit to Uncle Barry and Uncle Hal that there was a group of magicals killing people in their search for the Deathly Hallows before his Oath had made him choak on the rest of his sentence.

"No." She said quietly, hunching her shoulders as she ignored the pitying glance her brother's girlfriend sent him. "But, you could have asked my brother, he would've given you the same answer."

"You looked like you could use someone to talk to." Nightstar said simply, and placed a gentle hand on the fourteen year old's shoulder.

"They missed my birthday." Violet admitted, allowing her shield of Hexen to drop. "I'm fourteen now and they weren't here for it." The other girl was silent for a long moment before opening her mouth once more.

"I was seven when I lost my mother." Mar'i mused, squeezing Violet’s shoulder before letting her hand drop. "You would have been too young to remember. And for the longest time, I felt guilty whenever I was happy, and every birthday that passed felt wrong without her there. Dad was a wreck too; they weren't dating anymore, and he was, and still is, happy with Shawn, but he still loved her. Jake was too young to understand what happened, he wanted his mommy to come back but he didn't understand where she had gone."

Violet hitched her shoulders higher as the older girl spoke, and a frown twisted her lips. "I won't believe they're dead unless I see a body."

"Reasonable." Mar'i dipped her head in agreement, then offered the smaller heroine a gentle smile. "I've seen Irey talking to Milagro and Jon, Jai's been speaking to Lian, when she's not busy with the Titans, and sometimes Conner or I. If you want anyone to talk to, you can always talk to me, V. You don't have to be alone."

Violet’s cheeks burned in embarrassment, but she nodded her head silently in face of the offer from her godsister. "...Thanks." She muttered quietly, and Mar'i patted her gently on the back.

There was a clatter as M'gann hit the floor again, but for once Robin stepped away, head tilting as he lifted a hand to his comm. unit with a frown.

"-tt-Got it." Hexen's cousin said briskly, then turned his head to the younger heroes loitering around the training room. "Hexen, Green Lantern. We have a mission, Abuse, Kid Flash, and Impulse are waiting for us in command." Then he swiveled his head back to Miss Martian as she brushed her skirt off, "Miss Martian, continue training. Ask anyone in the mountain."

The redheaded Martian nodded shyly as Robin swept away from her, the two other girl's he named moving to follow him; Hexen shifting away from Nightstar, and Milagro breaking away from her spar against Conner both falling in step behind the older hero. But the Kryptonian clone couldn't complain about the loss of a sparring partner before Miss Martian was approaching him.

It didn't take long to cross from the training room to the main chamber of Mount Justice that made up their team's command center, and Colin, Irey, and Jai were already waiting for them.

"What do we have, Wilkes?" Robin asked, striding into the large room, and the auburn haired young man sent him a kind smile.

"Sorry D," Irey said playfully, rolling her shoulders, as she adjusted the jean jacket she had thrown over her uniform. "We're still waiting for the last two members of our team." Her words seemed to signal the arrival of said two more members, as the door slid open to allow entry to Frostbite and Blaze, two heroes Hexen hadn't had a lot of experience working with.

Frostbite ran a hand through her short white hair as she studied the other heroes in the room, before her eyes landed on Colin and she moved closer to the small group, Blaze, with his head of golden flames a step behind her, lIke always. The two elemental teenagers seemed to work better as a pair than in a group, but they were powerful; Frostbite had near perfect control of ice and could freeze nearly anything she touched with a thought, while Blaze was her near opposite with a body that could become fire itself.

Hexen dipped her head in greeting, which earned her a small grin from Blaze.

"You are new, yes? I haven't met you, not personally anyways." Blaze mused, his voice carrying a thick Brazilian accent, and moving forward, he thrust out a deeply-tanned hand for the younger teen to shake. "Mateo da Costa, and this is Ania Gardener, my partner, she doesn't talk much."

"Violet, but call me Hexen." Hexen offered politely, nodding to Frostbite when the older girl's silvery eyes glanced her way.

Blaze smiled kindly, golden eyes shining. "Muito prazer, Hexen."

Robin cleared his throat impatiently, and the group of young heroes turned their attention back to him and Colin.

"Penny-Two contacted us about some strange going-ons in Wales." Colin started, pulling up a hologram of the continent of Wales, where multiple red lights lit up the small country. "Lots of cult activities, the occasional mysterious death, and missing children. It's been happening a lot in the United Kingdom recently, the Justice League has been spread thin, between off-world missions and various happenings around the world, which is why checking out Gwynedd county falls to us." The venom-enhanced hero said, pointing to the area with the most red within its borders. "Gwynedd is an area in north-west Wales, a large geographical area with sparse population."

"John Constantine is the one who brought the situation up with Julia," Jai was leaning on one of the consoles, goggles pushed into his hair as his green eyes studied the map. "He's been investigating the area, and thinks he has an idea of where a group of the cultists are hiding, but he needs backup. He and his son will meet us outside of Llan Ffestiniog."

"We're not sure how large this cult is, but it seems to be spread all throughout the United Kingdom." Colin picked the explanation back up again, "Constantine thinks they're connected to the group that caused the deaths of two Justice League members earlier this year." The nineteen year old added quietly, and next to Hexen, Blaze's hands clenched into fists.

The deaths of Fire and Jade, two superhuman and frankly powerful members of the Justice League, had shocked the world. The two women had been part of a group of heroes sent to investigate Britain, and ended up separated from their team when one of them had accidentally triggered a trap, their sudden deaths were shrouded in mystery - they had been missing for two weeks before their bodies had been found in Scotland, stabbed multiple times and drained of blood.

And, from what Hexen knew from the files, Fire was Blaze's mother.

"Hate to ask," Milagro spoke up, "But if they're some of the people that managed to kill two powerful members of the League, why are we being sent?"

"Because it's a relatively small group." Colin said, "We're working with the Justice League for this mission, between Constantine and our informants, we've located a large number of their bases spread throughout the United Kingdom. There are two bases in Wales, the one that we're tackling, and the one that Zatanna is leading a group of Titans against."

"It's a magical cult." Impulse spoke up, eyes shooting towards her sister, and Hexen straightened, eyes widening under her domino mask. "One of our informants had a run in with them a few months ago, and almost lost an arm."

Teddy.

She was talking about the group that almost killed Teddy.

The people he thought were connected with their parents disappearance.

Chapter Text

Chrysanthemum
Chapter Three :: Carnation
(Long lasting and fragrant, carnations are a popular choice for sympathy arrangements. The red carnation evokes admiration while a pink carnation stands for remembrance. White carnations stand for pure love and innocence.)

Bart easily slipped around every single spell thrown at him, as long as he didn't slip out of his speed none of the attacks would take him by surprise. Which was actually kind of funny when he thought about it(he easily plucked a couple wands from the hands of the cultists attacking them, gently tipping the magicals over), the spells looked to be made from light(he snapped the small collection he had obtained, dropping them into a pile) so why was it he could dodge them without even having to break the sound barrier? Maybe they weren't actually comprised of light(he slipped around a bright green spell aimed for Black Lightning's back, moving the other man a couple centimeters to the left so it could pass by him harmlessly), maybe the spells were made of something unknown to humans(he swept the feet out from under an entire group of them as he passed, and, out of sheer curiosity, he wedgied one as well), he would definitely have to talk to some witches and wizards afterwards(he stole another wand, stripping the man of his outer robe, then used the fabric to hogtie the wizard), maybe Teddy would have an idea.

Mercury let his speed slow to a stop as he came to an abrupt halt next to Red Robin and Spoiler, grinning widely as he watched the chaos he had caused unfold.

It was glorious.

Spoiler giggled, twisting to throw a batarang, and Mercury nodded proudly as he watched the wizards freak out over the loss of their wands or groan in pain on the ground.

Zal would be proud of the humiliation he caused the magical cultists.

The speedster kicked himself back into high gear, slipping back into the fight without much issue, clearing the way towards the cultists' base for Dick and Zatanna. The two older heroes burst into the large manor, and Bart slowed to a stop a few steps behind them, looking around the rather extravagant welcoming chamber.

Mercury whistled, "Impressive and shiny."

Batman grunted, but the speedster could tell the man wanted to laugh, and Zatanna cracked a rather frightening grin as sharp gray-blue eyes studied the area around them.

"It reeks of Black Magicks." The magician said in distaste, and the former Boy Wonder frowned.

"Lead the way." Dick said quietly, and Zatanna nodded, wand kept at the ready as the three heroes marched furthur into the mansion.

It was eerily silent, all of its inhabitants having been drawn outside by the attack members of the Justice League had thrown, or having fled the moment the first explosions started, and Bart followed close behind the two older heroes, golden eyes studying the expensive but medieval and gothic decor.

"Rather creepy." Bart mumbled, "I'm not a big fan of all the blacks... and the pointy things." He cast an eye towards the wickedly sharp looking weapons hanging from the wall, as if it were perfectly normal to use torture instruments as wall decor.

Batman's lips twitched into a small grin as the two men followed Zatanna through what seemed to be a large audience hall with a lavish throne and towards a darkly lit spiral staircase hidden strategically behind a large dark green and silver tapestry depicting a fanged skull and a hissing black snake.

"Even creepier." The brown haired speedster admitted as the snake hissed at them as they shoved the heavy fabric aside. Bart hissed back mockingly, watching the fabric reptile writhe furiously on the green banner. "I hate snakes."

"Then stop mocking the magical snake tapestry." Dick pointed out, and Bart rolled his eyes.

"Where's the fun in that?" The white and blue clad speedster drawled, allowing the heavy fabric to fall back into place as Zatanna lead them down the narrow staircase, pitching them into darkness.

"Evig su thgil." The dark haired woman intoned, and, with a flick of her wand, a glowing ball of white light illuminated their path. "Please, stop acting like children. I need to focus."

Bart decided, since he was a mature adult, he would do the grown-up thing.

He stuck his tongue out at the back of her head.

Batman shook his head fondly, and hissed under his breath. "Real mature."

"I'm an adult." Mercury pointed out, "I can do whatever the heck I want."

"Heck?" The older man echoed with a snort.

Bart ignored him.

Zatanna glared at them both as she stepped off the final step, wand held aloft. The area that they had entered was circular, lit dimly by nothing but burning ritual candles, there was a glowing pentagram confined within a pulsing red circle. At each point was a runic array, and the symbols were splattered with blood. Directly across from the entrance was a raised stone slab stained even darker by old blood, with a small shape laying atop it.

"Sacrificial Blood Magick." Zatanna hissed, pretty face contorting in pained disgust, shifting around the room without touching the summoning circle in the center, and Bart trotted wearily behind her, casting uneasy glances as the pulsing symbols on the floor as Batman moved to block the door.

"Is that thing active?" Mercury mumbled, and then winced fighting down the horrified gag that wanted to force him to his knees.

Laying atop the stone slab was a young girl, probably within the ages of five and seven, with bushy dark brown curls and olive skin, her big brown eyes were wide an unseeing in death, and while her face may have been untouched, the rest of her body wasn't; her thin neck had been slashed, splattering her chin and chest in crimson blood. She was completely nude, a pentagram identical to that on the floor had been carved into her stomach.

The golden eyed speedster stumbled back, hand flying to his mouth as he coughed. He recognized her; she had been in the files filled with faces and faces of missing children and worried parents.

Braith Driscoll. She was a little girl from Wales, five years old, her parents, Aaron and Bronwyn, had reported her missing three months ago after she had gone missing from their backyard where she had been playing with the family dog, Flower.

She would never go home to them, and her parents would have to live the rest of their life with the death of their daughter weighing on their minds.

Braith had been butchered like a pig.

She had died slowly, bleeding out on a cold hunk of stone, alone and afraid.

(And Bart, with his photographic memory, would never be able to wipe the image from his mind.)

Zatanna had spun around, eyes widening in fear. "Bart, wait!"

His eyes widened, then slowly moved downwards.

The heel of his foot had landed on the glowing red circle of the ritual pentagram.

It pulsed - once, twice, thrice..,

And a blinding white light exploded outwards.

Chapter Text

Chrysanthemum
Chapter Four :: Hyacinth
(These are mostly added into an arrangement of assorted flowers. There are a variety of thoughts behind the meaning, ranging from “you’re included in my prayers” to deep anguish.)

The amount of magic she was exerting was oppressive, Azalea knew that as she stepped out of the ritual circle, her eyes locked onto the tiny body laying on the stone slab and the writhing spirit of the girl chained to it. The poor thing was trapped by the ritual she had been used in, unable to move on, and if she lingered she would know nothing but a pained existence, never able to move on, until her soul would darken, tainted by the Black Magick, and become something evil, no longer the little girl.

She would just become another angry phantom haunting the place of her slaughter, adding to the dozens she could hear hissing in her mind, angry and full of dark hate.

The multiple children that had died for one person's mad grab for Death were restless.

The witch swept past a stunned Bart, the hem of the black dress Death had decided to gift her with dragging on the ground, the Cloak of Death fluttering around her shoulders, the Resurrection Stone, placed into a silver chain, warm against her chest, and the Death Wand clenched in her fist.

And as she left the runic circle, the ritual shattered.

'To break the chains, you must accept me, Mistress.' Death's voice hummed in her ear, 'You must accept my power, and my title. You must accept your title.'

Azalea could no longer deny the Hallows, she could no longer pretend that she wasn't the Master of Death.

Death was a part of her, it had always been with her; haunting her steps and whispering in her ear. Death had been a constant in her life since she was an infant, a part of her bloodline since the time of the Peverells.

Green eyes hardened, locking onto the sight of the child's spirit.

'You know the words, Mistress. You know what you must do.'

"I accept you, I accept your gifts." Her voice was soft, power rolling through her veins as the words came to her. "I accept you, Death. I become you. I am the Master and the Servant, a child of the End of All Things. I am the Guardian of your Hallows, the Master of Death."

In her hand, the Elder Wand crumbled to dust as the Cloak of Invisibility shimmered and melted away, and laying against her chest, the Resurrection Stone sunk into her skin.

She was no longer the holder of the Hallows, instead, she had become the Deathly Hallows herself.

The magic in the air thickened with every step she took towards the young specter, weaving through the air and humming in her bones. The spirit of the child stopped thrashing, wide, pleading eyes turning to the figure approaching her, the angry spirits that haunted the chamber stopped whispering.

Azalea's hand hovered over the child's body, brushing her eyes closed with gentle fingers, and watched with sad eyes as the girl's chains crumbled, allowing the soul of Braith Driscoll to be seen by those around her for a moment long enough to give the four adults around her a sad smile.

And then she was gone, taking with her the lingering phantoms of the other murdered children.

"Azalea?"

The dark haired witch turned, green eyes meeting gold, and she opened her arms, welcoming the hug that she knew was being thrown towards her. Bart bowled into her, wrapping strong arms around the woman who had raised him, "'Lo Bart." Azalea greeted easily, and nodded to Dick over the younger man's shoulder, "Birdy."

Bart pulled away, keeping his hands on her shoulders as he looked her up and down in shock. "Where have you been? Where'sWally? Whatjusthappened?"

Azalea blinked in slight amusement, before hardening her expression, "I'll explain everything later," She said instead, shrugging off the speedster's hands so that she could pat him on the cheek. "I have something I need to do first. Those gormless tosses are playing with forces they don't understand."

If they wanted Death so badly, she'd introduce them.

Marching past Bart, Zatanna, and Dick, Azalea paused only once in her determined stride to hiss at the furious magic snake sewed into a tapestry, if only to watch it rear back in shock in the face of her Parsletongue insults. She could sense her adoptive cousin, and the man she had helped raise following behind her as she swept through the manor, her powerful, furious magic rattling things as she passed.

She could feel the sick magic in the air; the wizards they were fighting were black-hearted, and tainted by the Black Magick they were dabbling in, her connection to Death allowed her to feel the innocent blood staining the hands of Delphini Riddle's followers.

These people had slaughtered numerous children in their pursuit of Death; they had caught Death's attention alright, but they had also caught it's ire.

Death did not condone the killing of innocents.

Azalea strode out of the manor, casting an eye about the battle as it came to a close, and the small group of Justice League heroes went about collecting and restraining the defeated wizards. A sharp green stare shifted from cultist to cultist, looking for something that would distinguish the leaders from the grunts, studying the black robes and silver masks.

Her dress brushed across the lawn with every step she took, and she ignored the surprised looks she received from the heroes as her eyes zeroed in on one of the men with the green and silver trimming on the otherwise plain black fabric. The witch came to a halt, peering down at the defeated man, "Well, hello there."

She reached down and plucked the mask from his face.

"Peregrine Derrick," She hummed, head tilting thoughtfully to the side as she studied the former Slytherin Beater. Blue eyes glowered up at her from the man's handsome face, and Azalea's lips twitched. "My, my, you have quite a lot of blood on your hands, Derrick."

"Potter!" The black haired man spat.

Her returning smile was all teeth, "How many children have you killed, Derrick? Why follow Delphini?"

"The Augurey will control Death, and her most trusted will never fall!"

"Bzzt! Wrong answer." Azalea shot back playfully, and despite the cheerful tone her eyes were dark and angry. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, Peregrine. You can tell me where Delphini Riddle is hiding, or I can rip the information from your head, it's your choice."

Derrick glowered, "You wouldn't! Perfect Princess Potter of the Light, trying to threaten me? You're nothing but a trained bitch!"

"The hard way then!" She chirped, grabbing the collar of his robes and yanking him up to eye level so she could glare into his blue eyes.

It took next to no time or effort to pull the information from the older Hogwarts graduate, his mental shields were shit; arrogance at its finest, he had never thought he would ever get caught, in his mind he was too important. Azalea let her probes retreat, and dropped the twitching man back onto the floor.

"He'll be fine." She drawled when she saw the dissaproving stares some of the heroes sent her, "Give him a few hours of sleep and he'll be good as new."

Delphini Riddle had her people, and it was time for Azalea to gather hers.

Chapter Text

Chrysanthemum
Chapter Five :: Rose
(White roses evoke reverence, humility, innocence, and youthfulness. Red roses convey respect, love, and courage. Pink roses signify love, grace, appreciation and gentility. Dark crimson roses denote grief and sorrow. Yellow roses are given by friends of the deceased to symbolize their strong ties. When you include a single rose in a bouquet it expresses enduring love for the deceased.)

Hexen crept through the empty halls of the small Welsh house, clenching a hand on the wakizashi hanging from her belt. It was frustrating, being underage, she wouldn't be able to use her wand if push came to shove, and even if her cousin had been training her to fight for a number of years, her first mission without the use of her magic made her nervous.

In America, the underage restrictions on magic was different, she could use her wand freely, but the United Kingdom was different, more restrictive. If she used her wand, the operation would be blown apart.

Zachary Constantine glanced back at her, cool gray-blue eyes studying her, "Your first mission, huh?" His lips twitched into a crooked smirk, and Violet had to fight down the blush that wanted to appear as the older boy stared at her. "Nervous, streghetta mia?" The second Zatara asked, voice drawling smoothly.

Dammit, Violet hadn't expected him to be so pretty, it was throwing her off.

Damn Zachary Constantine and his pretty face, his fitted suit and his Italian teasing, and damn her for never thinking to learn the stupid language. She had met plenty of pretty people in her life, but none of them had ever distracted her so much.

Hexen blushed, smoothing a hand across her belt. "Only a little." She said quietly, "I can't use my wand here."

Zatara hummed, running a white gloved hand through black hair, appraising her. "Say, why don't the two of us go out for dinner after this?"

Violet blinked behind her mask, "Like... a date?"

The magician smirked, "You bet."

He was asking her out... in the middle of a mission?

"Okay." She agreed finally, "Just give me a heads up."

"Of course, gattina." Zatara purred, and Hexen's flush deepened.

Her comm. crackled to life, and Hexen turned her attention away from the handsome boy to press a finger against her ear, allowing Blaze's Portuguese swearing to fill her ear.

:"Filho da puta!": Blaze was saying, :"Found some of the children! These...! These cabrões have them caged like animals! Chupa-rola!":

:"It seems that we've found the go-between.": Frostbite spoke up, :"They seem to store the children here before shipping them off to other places.":

:"Anyone speak Welsh?": Blaze asked,

:"Seems to be all these kids are talking.": Her sister said, and then went quiet.

:"No.": Robin growled.

Hexen paused, eyebrows furrowing as the skin on the back of her neck prickled. There was electricity in the air, something powerful, something familiar.

:"Hey... does anyoneelsefeelthat?": Impulse said hesitantly, her voice picking up speed as she spoke.

The Speed Force.

A shiver ran down her spine, and her body stiffened.

She may not have had the same amount of super speed as her brother and sister had, but Violet still had the Speed Force running through her veins, she was just as connected to it as her blood siblings, just not in the same way.

:"SpeedForce!": Kid Flash said suddenly, voice warping in her ear, buzzing and popping as if he were standing in a lightning storm. There was a moment of silence from her brother's end, before suddenly; :"Dad?":

"KF, what's happening!?" Violet barked, shooting a nervous glance towards Zachary.

:"Holy shit! Irey, V, it's Dad!":

Jai had been zipping around the perimeter of the old fashioned cottage Constantine and his son had led them to, nervously listening to the ambient chatter on his comm as his sisters moved through the building in search of the missing children. The yellow-clad speedster himself had been helping the trench coat wearing Demonologist, and Robin in rounding up and hogtying the small group of cultist wizards on the property when he had felt it; the crackle of static electricity as it sparked from his shoulders, the sudden pull, and the heavy feeling permeating the air.

:"Hey... does anyoneelsefeelthat?":

"SpeedForce!" Kid Flash only had a heartbeat to holler the warning across the communication channel before something faster than he could follow tore past him, golden electricity trailing behind it, and the teenager let out a shriek of surprise as he was swept off his feet and dragged right along behind it.

He had been caught in the speed trails, bound by the golden static wrapped around him. The only person able to do that was...

"Dad?"

Green eyes hidden behind red goggles locked onto the form pulling him along, and he felt a grin stretching across his face. It was his father.

:"KF,": Jeeze, Violet sounded worried. :"What's happening!?":

"Hey, kiddo!" His father glanced at him over his shoulder, the top half of his face hidden behind his cowl and his lips twitching into a playful grin.

Jai didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry, or maybe even punch him.

(He'd punch him later.)

"Holy shit!" Kid Flash yelped, ignoring his father's scolding 'Language, James.'. "Irey, V, it's Dad!"

The moment they reappeared on the Watchtower, Irey threw herself forward, colliding with her father's side as she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tightly. She felt her dad chuckle, lifting her into a warm hug,

"Hey, Bunny."

The use of her childhood nickname; a call-back to the years when curly red hair would always be pulled into pigtails, and her new front teeth were a little bit too big compared to her baby teeth, made the redhead laugh though her tears as her father tightened his hold on her.

In the blink of an eye, Jai was there too, barreling into their father without even trying to look tough in front of their teammates, and Violet followed seconds behind him.

"What the hell, Dad." Jai mumbled, probably trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably, voice just as choked as Irey felt, and Violet released an agreeing sniffle.

Their dad let out a long sigh, lips twitching as he stretched his hug to include all three of his children.

"It's a long story."

Chapter Text

Chrysanthemum
Chapter Six :: Hydrangea
(The meaning behind this flower is not as well-known as the others, but many believe it symbolizes true heartfelt emotions.)

Azalea strode into the dusty welcoming chamber of the Potter Manor, green eyes surveying the area as she flexed her fingers, magic humming under her skin as the magic of her ancestral home hummed back in greeting.

She had been to Potter Manor, affectionately called The Pottery by the Potters that had come before her, only once before, it had been her first stop when she and George had run off to explore the world, and the grand stone manor had been repaired since then, a job she had haired a team of dwarves from Sweden to take care of.

Goblins held nasty grudges, and the less she had to deal with them, the better off they both were.

It was nice to see that the dwarves had done so well rebuilding her family’s home as she moved down the winding halls, gently fishing her DA galleon from her pocket as she did so.

Seemed like she had to gather the old crowd.

(In England, retired Minister of Magic and current History of Magic Professor of Hogwarts Hermione Jones felt her galleon heat up around her neck, pausing mid grade on a group of Second Year essays as she exchanged a glance with her colleague and former Housemate, Neville Longbottom as the Herbology Master pulled his coin from his pocket.

Head Auror Ronald Weasley felt his galleon, something he could never truly bring himself to get rid of after his falling out with the last Potter, vibrate in the pocket of his trousers. Teddy Lupin watching him in surprise as the redhead stared at the golden coin in surprise.

In the wilds of Africa where she and her small family were studying the breeding habits of Gulping Plimpies, Luna Scamander smiled as, on another continent George and Angelina Weasley closed shop early.

All across the United Kingdom, members of the former Dumbledore's Army pulled their galleons from where they had stashed them to study the encrypted message sent to them by a woman they had followed into a war, and from the looks of it, they were about to accompany the same person into another.

Things were getting pretty boring anyways.)

"What are you up to, Granddaughter?" The ghost of Charlus Potter, a specter left to haunt his ancestral home after his death, asked in amusement, peering over her shoulder as scowled down at a letter she was attempting to write.

"I need to talk to my contacts." The living Potter said quietly, "I know where Delphini is hiding, but I need to know the lands and the manor."

Charlus let out a noise of intrigue and approval, and Azalea knew, as a double War veteran, Charlus Potter supported her need of information. He may have been a Gryffindor in his early life, but the World Wars had taught him that recklessly rushing in head first and without a plan did nothing but get others killed.

"She's using Rowle Manor as her base of operation," Azalea said, "My contacts should know something about the place, and even if it's not much, something is better than nothing."

"I've attended a few galas at Rowle Manor in my life, and my Dorea was a close friend of Bernadette Rowle's." Charlus offered, "But I don't if I can help much, the Rowle's lost a lot of prestige after Grindlewald."

Sharp green eyes moved from her writing and towards her grandfather, "What can you tell me?" She asked, moving her quill so her ink wouldn't drip.

"The Rowle's were well known for their augurey breeding, back before Newt changed to creature breeding laws anyways." Charlus said, "Gothic-Victorian decor with a small welcoming chamber, but a lovely ballroom. There were a lot of winding stairs, but I never saw much beyond the first floor. There was a large aviary for the creatures on the lands, but otherwise they had a small plot."

"If I give you some of my magic, could you draw out what you know?" Azalea asked, ignoring the surprised look the ghost sent her. "I can make you corporal long enough to do it."

"If you think it will work."

(In two separate places, two men looked up from what they were doing as silvery stags pranced through the walls, glowing softly before them, before dissolving. Silver mist spilled across their desks, gathering slowly to form a sealed scroll.

The white wax held the imprint of a five petaled blossom with long stamen.
An azalea blossom.)

My old friend,

I'm afraid I must call upon your expertise in my most recent foray into gardening; the birds are ripping at young blossoms and I cannot stand for such a thing. These birds need to learn that even the most delicate flower can be venomous.

On another note, my pottery is looking much better.

~ A

Chapter Text

Chrysanthemum
Chapter Seven :: Tulip
(Tulips represent elegance and grace. Yellow tulips represent cheerfulness. White tulips represent forgiveness. Purple tulips represents royalty. Lastly, red tulips represent perfect love)

"We're not to get involved any furthur, Azalea will take it from here." Wally declared as he strode into the main deck of the Watchtower just as debriefing had begun, his three children dogging his steps and his cowl thrown back. "Also, I'd like to state, for the record, that my wife is a badass."

As if to prove his point, a silver stag phased through the metal walls of the Watchtower to gallop to the speedster's side. Wally absently gave Prongs a pat as it opened its mouth, and Azalea's voice spilled from the magical construct.

"I've passed our information on to the Ministry, am coordinating an attack now. Stay out of trouble - this will be deadly."

Wally gave the stag another pat as it faded away, it's message delivered, and Wally turned to his youngest. "The Trace won't be able to track you up here, could you send your patronous to your mother and tell her that we got her message?"

Violet, her own hood removed from her head, but domino mask still present, nodded her head, slipping her wand from its hidden pouch on her costume, brandishing it in front of her as she took a deep breath.

With a jab of her wand and a light mutter of "Expecto Patronum!" a glittering panther was leaping from the end of her wand to sweep through the crowd in search of a threat, before coming to a stop in front of its summoner.

"Hello Sìth," Violet greeted, stroking her patronous' chin. "Message for mother: Message received. Be careful and come back. Message end."

Sìth was bounding away within moments, slipping through the walls to head back towards Earth where Azalea would be waiting.

It said a lot about heroes that they barely blinked in the face of the magic performed in front of them.

Wally turned back to the gathered heroes, face serious, and anyone who would have complained went quiet. "It's become a magical military problem now that they know what they're doing, and they'll follow Azalea's orders. She's done this before, but people will die - that's why we're not getting involved; Wizarding Britain needs to do this themselves." Flash was not the type of hero to be serious, so Wally knew that his fellow heroes would be listening to him.

"But, if people are going to die shouldn't we be interfering?" Dove spoke up, shifting when Wally's eyes landed on him.

"I don't like it anymore than you do, Dove." Wally admitted, "But Azalea told me that in situations like this, it's kill or be killed. She learned that last time, and that's why she's asked me to make sure no heroes got involved any more. She doesn't want to put us in a situation where we might have to kill."

"It feels wrong." The other hero muttered.

Wally nodded, "It does, but we've been asked not to take part in the battle. We need to respect that sometimes people don't want us to interfere."

"It's good to see you back, Flash." Superman's lips twitched, and Wally shot the older hero a grin. "Want to share to the class where you've been?"

The speedster chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "Funny story, that. Got kidnapped by Death, and it took us for an adventure to the past."

"Death." Dick deadpanned, and Wally shrugged, as if saying 'what can you do?'

"You can't really tell the personification of Death no if it decides to grab you in the middle of dinner for a joyride through time." He smirked, "It's bad for your health."

"We've got the Ministry on our side," Draco Malfoy drawled as he stepped through the floo into the Pottery, regally brushing braided white-blond hair over his shoulder. "Weasley's got us the Aurors." Then he moved forward, slipping a large rolled up scroll onto Potter's make-shift wartable, watching as the woman moved her attention from the ghost of Lord Charlus Potter and towards him, Zabini at her side as they were bent over plans, and Draco lamented that the scrawny little mess of a girl had grown into such a beautiful woman.

He had seen the signs in Third Year, and he would never admit outloud that he had always found the Gryffindor Golden Girl attractive; if not her looks, then her status and titles. And she had really blossomed by the time Fifth Year and Sixth Year rolled around.

Before Azalea Potter, no one had ever denied Draco anything, and he couldn't help but feel that maybe if he had been a little less Malfoy and a little more Draco, could Potter have been his wife instead of Astoria?

It was no secret that there was no love between Draco and Astoria Malfoy, only duty, and Draco had always craved the passion that bled into Potter's every breath. She never did anything by half, she didn't have the same dainty and reserved disposition the girls in the Pureblood social circle did, and it was Azalea Potter's similarities to his daughter that made sure that Draco could never hold Estelle's absolute disregard for traditional social restrictions against the fourteen year old Hufflepuff.

"The complete floor plans for Rowle Manor?" Potter asked, unraveling the scroll to study the magical map, and Draco nodded, studiously avoiding Zabini's smugly knowing stare. The Italian had known before Draco had that the blond Malfoy had been attracted to his schoolyard rival.

"And Warding." Draco said simply, "If they added anything to the Wards, it will be nothing for a powerful wizard to tear them down."

"Bill and Dominique should be enough to work through those after I get rid of any extra nasties they thought to add." Potter mused, intelligent green eyes studying the map, and Draco glanced down towards the plans and calculations the Lady Potter had already made.

"Why did you never show this level of intelligence in Hogwarts?" The Malfoy Lord asked, eyebrows raising in surprise. He had always assumed Potter's victories lay with her ungodly amount of luck, or just pure stubbornness, but if she had always been able to make plans so well, it would make a lot more sense.

Potter looked up, lips quirking into a toothy grin, "I've always been good at hiding behind a mask,"

Ah.

Draco couldn't help the answering smirk as he said, "I believe that would make two of us."

It wasn't a perfect apology for childhood actions, but it was a start.

Chapter Text

Chrysanthemum
Chapter Eight :: Daffodil
(Bright yellow daffodils are a symbol of renewal and fresh starts. For this reason, they are believed to bring encouragement and hope to a person who is grieving or unhappy.)

Azalea hit the ground with a painful thud, chin scraping across the tile of the Rowle Manor halls, shoulder aching from whatever had rammed it, but in the middle of a battle she couldn't stay down. The dark haired witch rolled back onto her feet, sending a Bombarda towards the group of wizards she, Hermione, and Ron had come across, watching the floor on the other side on the overhang buckle, sending bodies plummeting to the hard floor of the ballroom floor below.

(It had been ironic that the battle had drove the three members of the Golden Trio back into familiar fighting patterns as the three had ended up fighting the same group of Neo - Death Eaters, watching each other's backs as they plowed through them and into the Rowle Manor.)

Delphini, just as charismatic as a young Tom Riddle but a lot less powerful, would be on the top floor, staying out of the battle and that was where they were heading.

"Ron!"

Hermione's cry had Azalea spinning around, eyes widening in horror at the sight of the bloody body laying still on the ground.

And suddenly her fall made sense.

Ron had pushed her out of the way of an attack she hadn't seen coming.

Hermione dropped to her knees beside her ex husband, gently rolling him onto his back to expose his shredded chest as the redhead gasped for desperate breaths, darkness moving swiftly through his red Auror robes.

Freckled hands grasped futiley at the bloodied slashes across his chest, as resigned, but panicked blue eyes stared up at the two females of their childhood trio.

"It's - it's not healing!" Hermione said, voice raising in panic as every attempted healing spell only caused the wounds to tear open even further.

Ron choked, blood bubbling past his clenched teeth, and Azalea fell heavily to the ground, ignoring the pain it caused as she crawled to the redhead's side.

"SsUseless..." The Auror gasped, "Save... your... ....magic."

Hermione sobbed, dropping her wand to the floor to press her hands against the man's chest in a desperate attempt to slow the blood flow.

"You pushed me out of the way." Azalea said dully, eyes watering as Ron stared up at her with sad eyes. "Why?'

"Because..." Ron murmured, voice gurgling and breaking as more blood dribbled down his chin, brows furrowing as his eyes grew confused. "Because... huh... I... don't know." His lips twitched sarcastically, "Foolish.... Gryffindor courage... I g-"

He seized, body jolting before going limp, eyes gaze vacant and empty.

Hermione wailed, but Azalea was numb as she forced herself back onto her feet.

"You need to keep moving." Ron's soul stood over his body, and when their gazes met the man shrugged sheepishly, lips twitching sadly before he faded from view.

"We need to move." Azalea whispered, and Hermione flinched.

Footsteps were rushing towards them, and Azalea turned, magic burning in her palms as a tawny coloured wolf rushed around the corner, maw stained with black blood and golden eyes wide.

It slid to a stop, shifting mid slip, wolf melting away to allow a man to take its place, and Teddy's eyes stared down at Ron's body in shock.

"Teddy?"

The metamorphmagus physically shook himself, golden eyes snapping back towards his godmother, "We need to defeat the Augurey, she's released Inferi!"

"Fuck!" Azalea hissed, running her fingers through the hair that had fallen from the tight braid she had tied it in earlier. "Fuck! We need to move!"

"Neville and Luna are at the door to make sure none get past." Teddy gasped, moving to Azalea's side and Hermione rubbed her sleeve across her eyes as she stood, scooping her wand back into her hand as she did so.

"Fire spells are my specialty." The bushy haired woman said grimly, "I'll go help them, you two get to Riddle."

"Kick their undead arses, Mione." Azalea shot her friend a shaky smirk, which was returned.

"Watch your language, Lea."

And she was gone, turning and sprinting back the way Teddy had come, and Azalea looked to her godson, who gave her a wolfish grin.

"Let's go."

"Right behind you, Mum."

"So you came,"

Delphini Riddle was lounged across a plush throne at the top of the Rowle Manor, twirling her wand almost playfully as she seemed to enjoy the sunlight filtering through the glass wall behind her.

"So I came." Azalea agreed dryly, watching the younger woman. "At least you're prettier than the last asshole Dark Lord I beat."

Delphini bristled, grip on her wand tightening as she ground her teeth together. "My father was a great man who had great plans for our world, and you ruined it!" The silver-haired woman leapt to her feet, gray eyes furious.

"Ah yes, I forgot," Azalea agreed sarcastically. "His genocidal goals were for the betterment of the human race, just like all murderous psychopaths. Good Ole Helterskelter, eh?"

Delphini hissed eyes narrowing, and Azalea merely raised an eyebrow, as if she were speaking to an unruly toddler.

"Give me the Hallows." The younger witch pressed out - it would appear she had her parents' temper.

Azalea could work with that.

Azalea pretended to think about it, tapping a finger against her lips before her eyes sharpened and snapped back to Riddle. "How about no."

Delphini snapped, and with a shriek she sent a beam of white magic towards them.

Azalea dodged easily, foci cuffs lighting up with magic as the other woman's spell left a deep gouge in the floor where she had been standing before, and Teddy, dodging in the other direction, shifted into his animagus form midleap.

With a wolf baring down on her, Delphini was forced to roll behind her throne coming up on the other side to send a Depulso towards the wolf, knocking him back and away from her where he slammed into the wall, and keeping the spell chain send another curse towards Azalea.

The dark haired witch ducked, sending a quick Ventus to send to other woman sprawling backwards with a blast of powerful wind while also tearing her skin and clothes, as her own now-shortened hair settled around her shoulders. So she tried to catch her with a cutting curse, apparently.

"You want to control Death, Delphini?" Azalea asked as she straightened, flames erupting in her palms. "What do you think that will get you?"

"I'll bring my father back, and we'll rule this world together!" Delphini snapped, struggling to her feet to glare at the older witch. "Just like we were meant to!"

"Tom Riddle didn't share power, Delphini." Azalea told her, a blossom of pity for the fellow orphan growing within her. She sounded like a child, an angry child who wouldn't hesitate to kill to get what she wanted, but still a child. "The moment you served your purpose, he would have thrown you to the side." She told her, "One of the hardest parts of being an orphan is coming to terms with it, trust me, but you need to accept that you are an orphan."

"Shut up!" The woman shrieked, "Shut up! You're wrong!"

"You're an orphan, Delphini, and you will always be an orphan."

Chapter Text

Chrysanthemum
Chapter Nine :: Orchid
(Orchids say "I will always love you". When giving an orchid plant as a gesture of sympathy, it is important to give consideration to color. Pink and white are traditional colors of sympathy.)

("Mum! Look out!"

A scream tore through the air.)

Wally was across the room in seconds the moment the phone rang, buffeting his uncle, cousin, and children with a sudden gust of air, and he lifted his cell and flipped it open.

"This is Wally." He said quickly, the hand not gripping his phone vibrating anxiously as the person on the other end hesitated.

:"Wally?": It was Teddy, his voice was quiet and shaky, and Wally's hand twitched faster than a person could blink.

"Hey Ted, you got news?"

:"It's over.": Teddy breathed, :"Riddle and most of her followers are dead.": His grown ward hesitated, taking a deep, shaky breath. :"We lost a lot of good people too... Ron was one of them.":

"Shit."

Teddy chuckled grimly, :"Yeah. He was the only one taken out by wizards though... there was a number of Aurors torn apart by Inferi.":

Inferi - magical zombies... to borrow one of Azalea's favourite sayings: bloody fucking hell.

:"Luckily the ones that got away from Hermione's Fiendfyre dropped when we took out Riddle. It was her magic keeping them going.":

"Teddy..." Wally said slowly, "What are you trying to avoid telling me?"

Teddy was quiet for a moment, :"I had to leave to tell you.":

"Tell me what, Ted?"

:"Mum's in the hospital.":

(She staggered back, eyes widened in shock when her eyes flickered to where she had been hit.

Shit.

No time to hesitate.

Her arm reared back, cuff glowing eerily, before she swiped it downwards.

Blood splattered across the ground.

"MUM!"

Teddy howled.)

Azalea was still, surrounded by clean white sheets pulled up to her chin that made her sickly pale skin look absolutely ghostly, save for the unhealthy flush to her cheeks that spoke of a severe fever.

"They've done everything they could." Teddy said distantly, and Wally brushed shaking fingers through his wife's shortened hair. "It was a Dark curse, and those never heal."

"This kind of reminds me of the Zoom attack when you were a kid." The speedster let put a painful chuckle, "And when she woke up, she was more worried for me than she was herself."

"Sounds like Mum." The younger man agreed with a choked huff of laughter. "She forgets she's not invincible."

"At least that terrible scar is gone, though." He knew he was digging for the positives in the situation, but he couldn't help himself. He had grown so used to Azalea all-but swearing off fighting during their entire relationship, perfectly content to just run her bakery and raise the kids the way she had always wanted to be raised, where she didn't need to fight for everything.

She was happy that way.

And yet, she had been dragged right back into a fight by the personification of Death.

She hadn't needed to, but Wally knew his wife was nothing if not a hero in her own right, if she saw someone in danger, she would save them. She hadn't been able to completely shake the conditioning that others would always be more important than she was.

What a pair their made.

Just regular old human messes.

"Never liked that scar anyways." Wally finished, carefully smoothing his fingers across Azalea's flushed cheeks, his voice wavering.

Quiet fell over the two men.

"I killed her, you know." Teddy said suddenly, voice haunted. "Riddle. When I saw Mum go down, and all the blood, I snapped... I threw her out a window and watched her fall to her death." He snorted grimly, "What a mess."

Wally's lips twitched, and he couldn't help himself. "Literally?"

"Literally."

(Glass shattered, and a woman screamed as she fell, voice cutting off abruptly with a wet crunch.

Her vision was fading.

"Mum! Mum, stay with me!")

Azalea's eyes fluttered open, vision blurry as she took in the ceiling above her before sweeping around the room, Teddy's panicked begging echoing in her ears.

Her arm throbbed, and, wincing, she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

Only to topple back over when one arm didn't respond, and she cried out in pain when she landed awkwardly on her shoulder.

"Fuck. Damn it." The dark haired witch hissed under her breath, rolling over onto her other side so she could clap a hand against her pulsing injury as she half curled into a ball.

She froze, fingers slowly tracing down from her shoulder and down to her upper arm, twitching when they bumped over bandaging, and then stopped as her memories flooded back to her.

Getting hit with some kind of curse and watching in horror as her fingers began to wither, then beginning to panic as the curse began to spread rapidly up her wrist and lower arm. Making the snapshot decision to stop the curse before it moved any furthur up her body, even if she had no idea of the counter curse.

She remembered severing her arm just above her elbow.

Stunned, Azalea slowly traced her hand over the slope of where her arm now ended.

The door swung open, and, alarmed, Azalea looked up, catching the sight of a flustered Wally standing in the doorway the moment before he sped to her side faster than she could follow.

"Azalea." He breathed in relief, hands patting down her body in a blink, before moving to cradle her face, and then jerking down to crush their lips together in a desperate kiss that took away what little oxygen the injured witch had in her lungs. "Thank god."

"The kids?" Azalea muttered as Wally pressed their foreheads together, letting his hands slip down to press gently again her pulse.

The redhead chuckled, "Worried about you, but fine. They've been visiting."

Visiting?

"How long...?"

"Almost two months." Wally muttered.

Azalea let out a shaky sigh, "My arm... I had to cut it off. It was cursed - would've killed me-"

"I know." The speedster interrupted, fingers twitching against her pulse. "I love you."

"I love you too." Azalea blinked, lashes fluttering against Wally's freckled cheeks as he pulled her even closer to himself.

"I will always love you." He pledged, "One arm or two, you are mine, and I am yours."

The woman let out a breathy laugh, eyes sparkling in amusement. "You're just one big piece of cheese."

(And life went on. It was harder with the loss of her arm, yes, but life continued and Azalea coped.

In the words of the great Monty Python; tis only a flesh wound.

She was nothing if not stubborn, and she refused to let a missing arm slow her down.)

FIN