#hprpbebogang

[blackwood-legacyhp]

Augustus kept gazing up at the night sky and wondered when the last time was that he did that, just sit out on an open field to admire the stars. He was surprised by how he remembered the various constellations and was that a planet? It was so crisp and beautiful! A smirk graced his lips as he lay on the blanket and mapped out all of the stars. It was a peaceful for it, after all.

No tombs to dive into and no cursed, ancient artefacts to clean. It was just him and the stars on some field in Wales. What more could a man ask for?

[youngest-blackwood-boyxox]

He was stood up. Yet again. Considering that this was the third it had happened, Arian shouldn’t be too surprised. This was to be expected with affairs, not that Josefina ever acknowledged it later on. He should have given up on her a long time ago but he was naïve and still hoped she would be more open about it. Arian wanted it work as she was the most beautiful people he had ever known. Plus she was a friend and classmate of his older brother, Augustus. Besides, he reminded himself, it was Josefina who suggested that they met up to discuss their relationship and then she had to bail before she had even arrived.

Arian glanced nervously around the Hog’s Head, taking in the faces of the patrons and hoping that he didn’t get mugged or anything bad. If it wasn’t the regulars scaring him, it was the smell of farmyard animals. The stench made him think of home. How long had it been since he saw his parents? They sent him owls almost everyday and Prudence would try to peck the owl that delivered them. That bird was overprotective of him that was for sure.

“I’ll have another one,” he gestured to the bartender before unrolling the parchment in his hand. It was from Josefina and stated that there had been a work emergency but not to worry as she had it handled. That obviously meant that he shouldn’t go and assist her. Josefina was capable of taking of things on her own but never bothered to let anyone in. Augustus often stated it meant they hid a lot of dark things. Arian didn’t believe that or it was because he tried to see the best in people. This was probably why people questioned his sorting all those years ago. “This doesn’t bother me,” he muttered more to himself as he screwed up the note. He then drank his fire whiskey and shuddered, wondering what he should do now.

[romilda-vane]

Romilda & Sienna;

Being a good friend was sometimes really tough and despite everything that Romilda was, there was no denying that she was a good friend.

Growing up her parents had often reminded her that ‘patience was a virtue’ and Romilda needed all the patience she could muster while sitting in the library with her group of Gryffindor gals. 

“But I don’t understand,” one of her friends cried, “Where does it say that you need to stir the potion clockwise?”

“Bottom last paragraph,” Romilda sighed, pointing on the textbook’s page. “Stir the ingredients together 10 times clockwise before adding the wormwood THEN you stir it anticlockwise for another 5. See?”

Romilda never claimed to be the smartest witch of her age, but she was particularly skilled in potions, perhaps dangerously so. She was more than happy to help her friends with the Potions homework that she had already completed but some of the outrageous questions they were asking made her think they weren’t even remotely trying. She was doing her very best not to bite back with sarcastic comments and eye-rolls. 

Giving a dramatic sigh from boredom, her attention began drifting around the library. Apparently there was no eye-candy studying today which was highly disappointing; although it was very slim pickings to choose from at school these days  anyway.

Flicking her long curled hair over her shoulders, she rose from the table. “I’ve got books to return but I’ll be back.” She announced to the table, picking her brown leather bag from off the floor.

It wasn’t a complete lie, but she would also take this opportunity to scan the corridors of book shelves in the hope that she would catch an unlikely pair getting it off in a dark corner or finding some poor student having a breakdown over a recent heartbreak. Romilda loved drama and knowing people’s secrets put her in a very comfortable position. Knowledge was power after all. 

@siennagrayce

[falcoblackwood]

“I guess the wand chooses the asshole.” Falco grinned, momentarily reminiscing in the time his 11 year old self visited Ollivanders.

[kisaknabokov]

open starter; set in hogwarts

The sun was feeling shy today, the grey fluffy clouds covering it up, and preventing the brightness to shine down. A slight chill in the air, it wasn’t quite summertime yet, a realisation that soon came crashing down. She missed the sun, she missed going on her family holidays. To see her number of family members, and to enjoy family time, to appreciate those around her. She was certainly someone to not give a care in anyone’s assumptions about her, they knew her, good for them. They didn’t truly know her, personally. They knew her name, not her story, Kisa was scarred, metaphorically and physically. Her persona hadn’t changed, still the arrogant, foul mouthed slytherin that she’d always been, she had learnt that being nice, didn’t get her very far, and she certainly wasn’t going to change. No. She was Kisa Mikhailov, the daughter of a Russian mafia boss, who she had inherited his personality and her mother’s good looks.  Russet hues scanned around the grounds, her back turned to whoever she was sensing approaching her. “Give me one reason not to take my wand out and hex your ass.” Kisa demanded with a high pitched tone, she wasn’t going to wait around for a response, she didn’t have all day. 

[sapphirecarrow]

Open Starter

Sapphire Silvestra Lynch, nee Carrow had been through the ringer since leaving Hogwarts all those years ago. 

She had taken part in the Battle of Hogwarts, landing on the same side as her mother, Alecto Carrow, and her uncle, Amycus Carrow. She fought the good fight, or so she thought, finding herself gravely injured and moments from death. Had it not been for Freddie Lynch, her Hogwarts sweetheart, she would never have made it and would have fell victim to the second wizarding war. He had carried her to safety, supported her, helped her heal.

First, there was St Mungo’s. Here, Sapphire would go through days and nights of agony as the skelegrow coursed through her body, mending each and every shattered bone. She would toss and turn and writhe to the point of needing to be restrained y cuffs on both her wrists and her ankles. Nurses were cared to go near her in case she lashed our. ‘Mad’  they’d call her. Whisper and mutter about Deatheaters and how they should be tossed out to the dogs, left to fend for themselves. If they died they died. She found herself healing pretty quickly, so quickly in fact that before she knew it, she had been carted off by wizards in suits to Azkaban prison. She was given a dirty brown sack like robe to change into, phptographs of her dark mark were taken, along sie mug shots of her holding up a sign with a unique number on it: 010592. Two years she spent in that prison, being put through inner turmoil. Session after session of rehabilitation, questioning, mental torture and anguish. She was made to jump through hoops ad over hurdles to try and prove she was no longer dark magic inclined. She went through painful magic sessions to have the ink of the dark mark removed from her left fore arm. Everything she could do to try and get herself out of that prison, she was doing. She needed to, for Freddie, he was waiting for her on the outside. She needed to do this.

Her first few days back in the real world, she spent wandering through a forest, an oversized cardigan wrapped around her shrinking frame. She was but a shadow of her former self. She was thin, gaunt and tired looking. Dishevelled from head to toe as she tried to grasp as best she could and adjust to life outside of Azkaban prison and away from the dementors. It was tough, but she knew she could do it. She had to do it.

[ravenlestrange]

Like A Phoenix / Raven & Eva

[ @evalestrange - my writing is terrible omg I’m sorry! ]

-

It had been years since Raven had spoken to her twin sister. The last time the pair were spotted even close to one another was the Battle of Hogwarts all those years ago. Being the daughters of Bellatrix Lestrange, it was all about pressure and expectations. They were on the front line, fighting for the Dark Lord. Battling their fellow students who refused to be on the right side of history. It all ended in a flash and a boom; just like that, it was over. Everything the family had fought for gone. The matriarch of the family; gone. All that was left was Raven and her sister, Eva.

Years had passed and the sisters had remained distant. Nothing could seemingly reconnect the broken bond. The Lestrange sisters torn apart by a childish mistake. As Raven walked down the cold, cobbled streets, the heels of her boots clicking in rhythm, she thought about how ridiculous everything was. There was more important things about to come to pass. Things more important than a school time boyfriend. She quickened her pace, turning a sharp corner and continuing on her way. The hood of her cloak masked her pale, chiselled features as she dotted between the blips of light, cast out by the lanterns. For dusk, it was already rather dark.

Before her was a doorway which her eyes took in from top to bottom; ‘Same old sissy’ she commented to herself, ‘Never one for subtlety’. With that, she clasped her fist and firmly planted it on the darkened wood three firm times. Knock. Knock. Knock.

She waited. 

[the-trevelyan-legacyhp]

Quidditch was a strong part of Wizarding culture. Much like football was for Muggleborns. Most professionals started out during their school years by playing for their house teams, or even younger than that if their parents allowed it. Eustace Trevelyan was lucky enough to have parents who constantly gave him what he wanted but also knew when to give him some space. He was truly grateful for that and his brothers for putting up with his needs to play the game at home. It was difficult playing with less players than required but it worked. Eustace could really hone in on his favoured position: Chaser. Julian often pointed out his small build would suit Seeker but he never listened. His ambitious nature landed him in Slytherin and he often joked with Julian how they would beat Ravenclaw. Of course their house team still lost due to Gryffindor’s Seeker. It never fazed Eustace, however, who soon realised that he just enjoyed being up the air and playing in earnest. He disapproved of the rough tactics but attempted to blend in. At least he didn’t pick up a habit when he later became a professional player.

Eustace was so pleased with himself when he was offered a place on the reserves for Puddlemere United. It was some point after that he was actually playing. It was amazing to hear the crowds cheer his name and to be playing on a team that he admired. Plus his father shone with pride and was always boasting about his Quidditch player son. Eustace wished his mother was still alive to see his achievements as she was always his support. It almost broke him when she passed away as now there was a huge hole in his heart. Elspeth has tried to patch it up but it was never truly whole again. It probably never would.

“Trevelyan, this conference will forge international friendships and introduce you to the public. Go mingle with the fans, talk to the press. Just be on your best behaviour,” his coach gently pushed him towards the crowd. “If you need me I’ll be with Wood.” With that the older man disappeared, obviously going to find Oliver Wood; Keeper for the team and an old rival of Eustace’s. The two formed a truce when they realised they were on the same team now. It was easier than either one had thought it would be.

“Where to begin?” He mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair. Eustace could see Julian, Elspeth and their father in the crowd, obviously there for moral support. Eustace, however, could feel the butterflies fluttering around the pit of his stomach. He knew that he couldn’t speak with strangers without something bad happening. What he gave away something about his past or his constant struggles with his sexuality? If he ended up talking to a reporter, he might let something unpleasant slip.

[blakehawthorn]

Many things were different since the end of  the second wizarding war. The wizarding world had been changed forever, scarred by the memories and those left behind forced to pick up the pieces of a broken society and to mend their broken world. New shops had been popping up in Diagon Alley for years. Hawthorn Wands was one of them. Blake Hawthorn's family had been skilled wandmakers for centuries but had never quite managed to hit the open market what with Olivander taking up the top spot for Hogwarts students. Everyone had gotten their wands at Olivander's, Blake included. However, after the devastating destruction of Diagon Alley, and the death of Olivander himself, the Hawthorn family saw an opportunity to rebuild the most sacred and important part of wizarding life; receiving their wand.

Unfortunately Blake's parents died during the aftermath of the war, there were still hard feelings in the months after Voldemort's death, and they were murdered after delivering a particularly rare item to an old Death Eater. See, the Hawthorn's didn't just make wands. They also dealt muggle weapons on the side. Knives, swords, crossbows, traditional bows. That sort of thing. It wasn't strictly legal, but the Hawthorn's had kept it quiet when applying to take over the wand shop in Diagon Alley. The shop that Blake had inherited when her parents died. She had learnt the art of wandmaking from her father like he had from his father. It was the one thing she was really good at, apart from shooting a bow. She still kept a hidden room at the back of the store for those who knew what to ask for.

It had been a quiet day in Diagon Alley, Blake had only had a handful of customers as was typical when it wasn't nearing the start of a new term at Hogwarts.  She closed up shop, locked the door and turned around leaning against the door frame as she glanced up and down the quiet Diagon Alley street. In her mind's eye she could still picture what it looked like when she was younger; before the war. Some of the same shops still remained, but it felt different now. Blake sighed and started towards the Leaky Cauldron, she needed a good Firewhiskey that was for sure.

[healing-cassiaxox]

Having gone through years of gruelling training, it was now time to work as a professional and aid the wards whenever needed. Cassia Tullan particularly enjoyed when younger people came in so she could become silly or sneak in food for them. There was also the fact that she could be in the position of helping others and be in a lively environment. Her love of forging new friendships with a diversity of people helped her keep sane as she tried to keep up with the demands of daily life. St. Mungo’s Hospital in London and took on all sorts of magical maladies. Cassia enjoyed the challenge of proving herself as she was more versed in Herbology and really had to work hard to be there. Not that her superiors disregarded that and was always giving her tough assignments. She took that as a sign of being trusted.

It had been a slow morning at hospital and Cassia was enjoying a much needed afternoon break so ventured into Diagon Alley in the hopes of enjoying some ice cream. She had debated on going to the Leaky Cauldron but her sweet tooth had won out today so she went to the ice cream parlour. Hoping to see an old friend on her travels had proved fruitless but at least she would be able to indulge herself. Settling down at a table waiting for her order, she pulled out a sketch pad from her overstuffed bag and glanced around the tables, taking her surroundings. There were so many different witches and wizards that she could doodle today or she could capture one of the shop fronts instead. A small smile graced her features as idea formed in her mind. Perhaps she should think outside of the box and draw one of favourites? A niffler.

Nifflers were one of her favoured magical creatures and she had just spotted a window display fully of sparkling jewels. It wasn’t hard to picture the little creature in there as it loved anything shiny. So she set to work, only pausing when her ice cream came. This was such a glorious afternoon to let one’s creative juices to flow, after all.

[silver-tongued-misty-heartxox]

A LOT OF THINGS HAD HAPPENED since her schooling days. Lord Voldemort had been a constant during her teen years and most of her adult years. Whilst Cristemia Silverheart hadn’t taken the dark mark herself, she was obliged to help the cause as per her father. The horrors she had witnessed and even partook in couldn’t be changed, no matter what she did in her later years. Her peers and the next generation hadn’t trust her and she supposed she deserved their glares. The blonde wasn’t looking for sympathy nor did she want the fuss. Her main purpose was to live for others and that was what she intended to do.

After spending her time for her crimes, Cristemia settled into a job working for a Practitioner for Potions and got into the craft. Back at school, the blonde did alright at the subject and often tried to play it down. She hated the attention and still did. Cristemia preferred time work on brews in the back of the shop and only worked at the front when her boss was out. It just so happened that the man had an errand to run so she found herself sitting behind the counter.

Now, she had an excuse to work on her people skills. The blonde, admittedly, couldn’t spin a proper conversation these days without almost using offensive words. She had to bit her tongue or blush furiously through a loud apology. Whilst it was true she detested such words, she had formed the habit from speaking with her brother. Maximus Jr was now in a rehabilitation ward on St. Mungo’s and Cristemia, as his only living relative, felt obliged to visit as frequently as she could.

Having to look forward to that day’s visit, the blonde was reading through an article of Witch Weekly, absorbing the gossip it had come up with. It amused her at how popular this drivel had become and how she had been suckered into reading it. A shudder suddenly ran down her spin when the chime of the shop’s reached her ears. Dropping her magazine, she glanced up and mustered an awkward smile. “Um, hi, hello! Are you picking up an order or is there something else you need?”

[lawful-ambitions-xox]

There were many reasons why one could not sleep. One those reasons could be worry or getting through a tonne of paperwork. For Elspeth Trevelyan, it was a combination of both. The closing report of a rather difficult case had kept her awake through to the early hours of Friday morning. Her sudden immunity to caffeine hadn’t helped either and she wondered what had took her so long. Perhaps it was getting it done quickly or anticipating another case to land on her desk? Defending innocents in court had always been her dream and now she realised how tiring it was.

Not that she was complaining as she flicked her wand to send the pile of parchments to the correct cabinet. A deep yawn escaped from her lips as she turned towards the window of her office. The sun was finally rising and she had to squint at the sudden brightness. Spring had truly arrived, she thought sleepily and sank into her desk chair. How long did she have before any of her colleagues arrived at the office? How many had it been since she was at home?

At the sudden thought of her apartment, Elspeth straightened up in her chair and began to stretch to smell herself. She was now conscious of the fact that she hadn’t changed since the other day and what if she gave off a certain odour? Springing out of the chair, she strode over to the door and was about to grab the handle when she lost her balance. A string of grunted curses left her lips as she fumbled for the edge of her desk, only for her forehead to collide with the corner.

She hissed in sudden pain and managed to drop her wand in the process of being knocked to ground, “stupid woman,” she berated herself. Elspeth tried again to stand and grabbed her wand once she managed to stay on her feet. She wondered if the day would get worse before it got better. But it would! Her eyes snapped towards the door upon hearing a knock. “What is it?” She called out, hoping her voice didn’t betray her current fatigue.

[love-magic-comedy-tragedyxox]

It was very rare to have a dragon disturb the locals but it had been known to happen. Muggles who weren’t aware of their existence stumbled upon their nests and it amounted to a lot of fatal accidents. Allen Weasley couldn’t count the many times he had to clear up the mess and check on the dragon. Male dragons he could handle as they were more submissive than the females and a lot slower. Whilst the poor Muggles were being tended to, Allen and his team had the task of chasing down the beasts and get a reading on the situation. It was mostly dragons from the British enclosures that had these issues and depended upon volunteers from Romania. That was where Allen and his team came in.

Too bad that the dragon in question turned out to be female. She was fast and violent. Allen could only think of one reason for this; a baby. Mother dragons were over protective of their young and he often thought about his sister-in-law whenever he analysed the situation. The dragon fought hard despite her own injuries and he received third degree burns. He carried on with his job until the dragon family was safe and he collapsed from exhaustion.

Allen was now awaiting to be discharged from St. Mungo’s and wondered why someone had to take him home. His godson was running behind due to a work related incident. Allen was getting impatient, as usually and prayed that someone he knew came by. That way, he could at least get out of here early and send an owl to Felix. “I just want to see my dogs,” he pleaded with the healer, “I haven’t seen them in a while and I’ve had plans to cuddle them.”

[youngest-blackwood-boyxox]

Arian Blackwood was meant to meet up with Josefina Vesta but she had stood him up. He should have been used to this and ignore the odd feeling inside of his stomach. This time had been even more disappointing as there had been no note, no explanation as to why she did this. Perhaps this was her way of saying that their diligence was over? Arian should have suspected and he knew that his brothers would have told him so if they even knew.

“So you made it, eh, Blackwood?” A guy smirked in his direction as he stepped into the Three Broomsticks. There was an awkward pause as Arian tried to remember his greeter. “It’s Tullan. Jack Tullan, we had Herbology together.” After a short conversation, Arian made a beeline for the bar ignoring the shuttering of his heart. Maybe he should have just come to this reunion instead of waiting for Josefina? It was clear she wasn’t going to meet if the last few times were any indication.

“One fire whiskey,” he waved towards the bartender, keeping his expression neutral. The point of his relationship with Josefina was that it was meant to be secret. She was the head of his department at the ministry and the woman was keen on her professionalism. She didn’t want people to know that she was having sex with her staff.

Arian was naive in thinking that she liked him and was starting to realise that she was using him. Now it just became painfully obvious and he just had to accept that. From now on, he was just going to focus on his work and get over his first heartbreak. Sweeping it under the rug was going to be harder what was possible but he knew he could do it.

@littleanniebanning

[isabellestonem]

Work Experience: Open

The incessant scratch scratch scratching of the receptionist’s quill against the paper was slowly making Isabelle want to jam the feather into the woman’s eye. Why, for the life of Merlin, this company hadn’t invested in modern muggle technology and given their staff Macs, Isabelle did not understand. Surely even the middle-aged crone behind the desk knew that it was far more energy and environmentally efficient to store whatever mundane document she was working on in the cloud than to write everything with quill and parchment.  The scratching wasn’t the worst part, or even the fact that the woman kept clearing her throat every time she paused to dip into the ink... no, for Isabelle it was the fact that she was missing the train back to school with her friends in order to spend the weekend here. “The least you can do is start thinking about what you might want to do when you leave school...” her father’s voice echoed in her head as she stared around the musty reception, which was really not making use of the natural light. She recalled the impossible look her father had given her when she had suggested that she take some time out after school, used some time to go travelling. 

“Your father has pulled a lot of connections to get you this meeting,” was her mother’s voice now, “so don’t embarrass him...” Isabelle remembered rolling her eyes only to receive the piercing sharp glare that her mother was famous for... though couldn’t help but notice a flicker of a smirk on Clara’s lips. Both mother and daughter knew full well that Isabelle would never have to work if she didn’t want to. All Isabelle had to do was feign interest in the career of this person she was set to meet, give the impression that the Stonem’s had raised an incredibly polite and attentive daughter, then she could go back to school and to her own life.

Isabelle’s grades were perfect, she could really chose to enter any career she had even the vaguest, fleeting interest in, but so far she hadn’t been inspired by the “meetings” her father had set up for her.  Lifting her hand, Isabelle was minutely aware that the receptionist was watching her. Pretending to brush her blonde hair behind her shoulder, she discretely checked the time on the watch on her wrist, another piece of useless decoration her father had insisted she wear. “Everyone who wants to be taken seriously should wear a watch,” he had insisted. That time it was her mother’s turn to roll her eyes.

The woman at reception cleared her throat, causing Isabelle’s attention to snap to her, a small and polite smile dancing across her ruby red lips. “They are ready for you now,” the receptionist hummed, and pointed a long and shaky finger to the door on the left. “Fantastic, thank you so much,” Isabelle graciously stated, reaching down for her bag and turning towards the door.  With a slow outtake of breath, the blonde gripped the door handle and pushed it open. She took slow and deliberate steps into the office, wondering who on earth she was going to meet.

[elizabethabbotthprp]

History

Elizabeth as a Hogwarts student was bright and beautiful. She came from good breeding and was well thought of amongst her peers and professors. From the outset, she had all the elements required to become successful, but it was her choice of partner in her final years of school that ultimately defined her. She had fallen deeply in love with the wrong sort; the son of a high-profile and controversial Minister of Magic candidate, and though his family deeply disproved of their union, they continued their relationship in secret for a total of two years. 

Undoubtedly, she had been ready to marry him, and she would have done so too, had he not of betrayed her. As it happens, he had turned out to be a criminal of sorts, trapping her in his web of darkness and deceit. In hindsight, she would agree that the signs were there from the very beginning--he was always grossly against her training as an Auror, always trying to convince her of the capacity in her for greatness, and pushing for her to try spells she knew her professors would not approve of. He would often talk of how they could be dominant together, her by his side as he took his rightful place as Minister of Magic after his father. But hell she was a fool for that man--so much so that she could not see what was right in front of her, plain as day.

There had been other loves, of course, but none had touched her in quite the same way. She supposed that was to be the way of it now--first loves were always the most powerful, the most passionate, their endings the most explosive--everything else seemed rather dull in comparison.

It didn't seem to matter that she had fallen hook, line and sinker for him or that she was carrying his unborn child--in the end, he cared more for his prospects than he ever did for her. She was left alone and confused; a mere child in a frightening and fast-evolving world. 

When the time came for the wizarding world to look for a new Minister of Magic, his father was all too keen to take the spot. He did not ultimately win the election--a blow he took poorly--but this did not deter him from campaigning for another vote. He had supporters in droves--though some would say the wrong kind--but still it was not enough to win. At the time, when it seemed his dream of leadership would never materialize, the political fire having burnt out, they came after the child.

Initially, Elizabeth had resisted them, realizing that the child was the one thing that she was in control of. They'd never tried to hide their utter disdain for her--why should her child be any different? 

Invariably, it was a political move; they had hoped that by raising their grandson publicly that they could convince the people of their unitedness. She, however, was not to be in any way involved; a sum of money was offered for her silence and her disappearance. Their entire plan was a farce, of course--Elizabeth doubted very much if anything could have redeemed them in the publics perception. They had been linked to stories of illegal imports, blackmail, even murder. The father was a fraud, his son even worse, intent on using their influence to persuade the world into darkness. Once that haze of first love had gone, Elizabeth was horrified at the stories she had heard about the family of the man she presumed she would one day marry. 

She wrestled with what to do for some months. At the tender age of just 17, she'd hardly imagined that she would be a mother. In fact, she tended to agree with his parents that she was unfit for the task, she still a child herself.

Despite her doubts, she could not accept the alternative; that her only son be raised by a family who would likely twist his mind and poison it with dark magic. Suddenly, the child that she hadn't planned for became her primary reason to survive, her destiny to protect him. She vowed to keep the child herself; she planned to give birth abroad, enroll him in a foreign school--she had been a promising student and it shouldn't have been too difficult to find work. The plan was set, and though it pained her greatly to leave her friends and family behind, she knew in her heart that it was the only way. 

Yet, one fateful November evening, Elizabeth gave birth--two months before her due date. The labor had been long and complicated and both mother and baby were exhausted, but oh what a sight! Weary to the bone, Elizabeth held that sweet baby in her arms and the world faded away. This, she presumed, was what they meant by love at first sight. Her chest swelled with pride and relief.

Those sacred hours between mother and son were all too brief and that night Elizabeth took a turn for the worst. The premature birth had affected her in ways that nobody could predict and the Healers had to work all night to save her. Her precious baby had been placed in a moses basket and moved in with the other newborns. Whilst Elizabeth fought for her life, so came the thief in the night, stealing away her dear child and replacing him in the moses basket with another. As the story goes, no-one in St Mungo's that night heard or saw anything; not the heavy footsteps of an unauthorized visitor or the flash of green light.