Chapter Text
February, 1692 - Salem, Massachusetts
Esme Bennett had always been able to see the future. It was a particular gift of hers, one that she had honed to escape her captivity and stay one step ahead of anyone that would see her burnt at the stakes for the gifts that she possessed.
It was her gifts now that were warning her something was on the horizon - a bout of fear and paranoia that would see witches like her burned alive. She may have been powerful beyond any mortal measure, but she was still only one woman. It was time for her to leave Salem.
In one life, Esme would have made a short, safe journey to what would one day become the state of Virginia. Her children, their children, and her long distant descendants would become the protectors of a town that took them for granted and bled them for their magic at every opportunity. They would live good, moral, upstanding lives, barely scratching the surface of the power that they possessed.
But as she gazed off into the long distant future, Esme saw another option. A hard, years-long trek across the hardly discovered American continent, to a new little French speaking city that would be founded in a few years. New Orleans. There, the Bennetts would find a place to become an institution, to hone their abilities and be respected by all. There, they would have power.
(And there, one of her descendants would change the world. Though for the better, or the worse, she wasn’t quite sure.)
To Esme Bennett, the choice was an easy one.
February, 1993 - New Orleans
New Orleans was a city of power, and one thing was clear: the Bennetts were a powerful coven. Their numbers might have dwindled since their peak in the early 20th century to barely a handful of witches (which was what tended to happen when one restricted coven membership to members of your own family), but they were one of the founding three covens of New Orleans.
And if there was one thing that the covens of New Orleans - world-renowned practitioners of ancestral magic - respected, it was history. And when a rich family history mixed with the raw power that could be found in pretty much every Bennett witch, that meant that the birth of a new one was always a big event.
Which was precisely why Mathilde Deveraux, one of the witches of the French Quarter coven, was keeping an idle eye on her two unruly daughters as she traded gossip with a fellow witch in her coven.
“Did you hear about Abby Bennett?” Her brunette friend asked, so quietly that Malthide had to strain to hear it over the constant din of Rousseau’s.
Mathilde resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Why had the ancestors willed her to be born the same year as a Bennett ? The Bennett witches also occupied the French Quarter. They were so small in number that French Quarter witches and Bennett witches normally didn’t cross paths that much outside of official meetings or festivals, but Abby Bennett had been in the same year in school as her, which meant she had to see the other girl constantly.
Of course, the Bennett witch was a natural prodigy at magic, and being the same age as her meant that Mathilde’s father and aunt had a constant basis for comparison. “I heard Abigail Bennett learnt that delinking spell in two days, so why can’t you manage it? Or - Sheila Bennett told me her daughter was chosen to represent water for the Fête des Bénédictions! At only eleven.”
“What’s going on with Abby Bennett, Cara?” Mathilde asked. Last she had heard, Abby had left New Orleans for college in Virginia. She didn’t doubt the other girl would be back. After all, why bother staying somewhere where you were a nobody, when you could return to a city where you were basically witch royalty?
The Bennett reputation opened doors. They were the coven every vampire, werewolf, and lesser witch went to with their problems, which had made them respected beyond measure and wealthy as shit. Even now, there was a rumor that Sheila Bennett had run off to Portland to sort out a problem with a coven there.
“She’s back in the city. And you’ll never believe this: she’s nine months pregnant with the baby of some random human guy she met back in Virginia. Rudy something. I think he’s in law school or something, but he totally freaked when she told him she was a witch and now she’s gonna raise the baby alone.”
Mathilde raised her eyebrows. Virtually every witch family (and even some of the werewolves) wanted their children to marry into the Bennett family, but they almost always went for ordinary humans instead, to avoid raising their children with another coven’s influence. “How do you know all this?”
“You know Delilah Claire’s little brother is the biggest snoop. He was listening to Sheila Bennett when she went to meet up with the regent last week, and she naturally brought up the fact that Abby was returning to the quarter.”
She raised her cup, in a mocking salute. “The prodigal daughter returns. How great for the rest of us.”
Cara sighed. “God, imagine how annoyingly powerful this kid is going to be.”
~~
April 2001, New Orleans
Bonnie Bennett was a little girl with a very rigid schedule. That was what tended to happen when your mother was in the running to become the next Regent of the Nine Covens of New Orleans – basically, from what her Grams explained to her, the Queen of all Witches in New Orleans. The same way Marcel, the really pretty guy with the storybook eyes, ruled the vampires.
Her schedule was longer than most people she knew, but it was fun. First, there was magic practice in the morning, before school. Normally, morning magic practice was Bennett-coven only, which meant learning about Bennett grimoires and communing with their ancestors. Normally, her Grams ran their sessions, though sometimes it was Great-Uncle Samuel.
Her family was the smallest it had been in generations, which meant that it was normally just her, Lucy, and Lucy’s annoying little brother Léon. And Bonnie was a way better witch than Léon (and a little bit better than Lucy, too), so that always ruled.
After that, it was school, which was long and boring. Bonnie didn’t even know why she needed school - it wasn’t like she was going to get a job or anything. Her mom told her once that the Bennett money came from the magical help they gave others, or the magical objects they sold in their store. She was a witch, and one day she’d be a fully practicing member of her coven.
But no, apparently she had to be well-rounded or something. Which meant going to stupid fourth grade, and learning math and science and other stuff she didn’t really need. Bonnie liked some of the girls in her gym class though, especially Ara and Julia.
After school every day was more magical practice, though this time it was with the French Quarter witches. Because the Bennett coven was so small and the French Quarter coven lived in the same area as them, they often trained together. While there were only two Bennett witches in the same age group (between six and nine), there were twenty French Quarter coven witches. Which was a lot! There were only ten Bennett witches alive.
There were a lot more rules when Bonnie practiced with the other witches. She wasn’t allowed to do any Bennett only spells, or antagonize any of the witches, even when little Monique Deveraux was being so annoying and bragging about how big she could make plants grow. Her mom depended on the French Quarter witches to support her Regent claim, which meant Bonnie had to make friends.
The only French Quarter witch she actually liked was Davina Claire, though. Even though Davina was younger than Bonnie (two whole years!). She was pretty funny, and always gave Bonnie extra oreos whenever her mom sent her to magic class with a snack. Plus once, she had helped Bonnie set Monique Deveraux’s hair on fire.
Davina was cool, Bonnie had decided. The other witches were super lame.
On Mondays and Thursdays, Bonnie had gymnastic class, because her mom wanted her to do something not-magic, and Bonnie loved all the flips and stretches. It felt like she was flying, and powerful not just because she was a witch. Other days she helped Grams harvest herbs for spells, or watched Friends with Lucy.
Everything was normal for Bonnie Bennett, witch and daughter of the future regent of New Orleans. Until the day that it wasn’t.
~~
March 2001
“You know, my mom is, like, super jealous of your mom right now,” Davina whispered to Bonnie one day, when they were listening to Sophie Deveraux (who had to cancel a date with boyfriend to be here and kept bringing that up) explain to them how to do a locator spell.
Bonnie didn’t say anything. It had been a few days since Bonnie’s mom had been chosen to be the next regent of the nine covens. Since it was the first time a Bennett had been chosen in over a hundred years, everyone was super excited. There was going to be a huge parade to celebrate, and Bonnie had a fancy sparkly silver dress to wear, and her Grams had spent hours braiding her hair into pretty box braids with matching silver extensions.
“Aren’t you excited?” Davina asked, picking up on Bonnie’s silence. “You’re gonna get to look pretty like a princess, and all the vampires and witches will have to bring you gifts. I wish my mom was the regent.”
Bonnie knew she should be excited. She was happy for her mom, really. Abby Bennett was now one of the most powerful people in New Orleans. Last night, her mom was out for a meeting with Marcel, the vampire king, and Mr. O’Connell, the leader of the humans. There used to be werewolves invited to the super secret meetings, until something had happened two years before she was born, and now werewolves weren’t allowed to leave the Bayou.
“I’m not not excited,” Bonnie sighed. “My mom has just been… a little weird lately.”
Davina seemed to accept that, and the conversation moved on. But Bonnie was so lost in thought, she nearly missed Sophie’s lesson. What happened last night had just been so weird.
After her mom had come home from her meeting with Marcel, she had gone to the cemetery to commune with the ancestors. And she had come back pale and shaking, before grabbing Bonnie’s Grams and taking them upstairs, the two of them talking in hushed whispers.
Bonnie had cast a quick quieting spell on her feet and gone to eavesdrop on their conversation. She couldn’t make out it all (and her mom would definitely know if she cast an amplifying spell), but she had gotten bits and pieces.
“She’s your daughter , Abigail. I raised you better than this,” that was her Gram’s voice, cold and biting.
“The ancestors said… prophecy… destined to… the supernatural order of New Orleans.” Her mom’s voice was much quieter, and hard to make out.
“Prophecies have a way of coming true regardless, Abby. Don’t you think this is a bit drastic?”
Bonnie could hear the faint sound of her mother’s voice: “my position as regent is still so new, and it’s my duty to protect New Orleans-”
Her Grams cut her mother off. “What about your daughter? What on earth makes you think that Rudy has what it takes to take care of your child? God knows that boy ran the second he found out you were a witch. You really don’t think Bonnie will be miserable in Mystic Falls?”
You really don’t think Bonnie will be miserable in Mystic Falls?
In Mystic Falls….
Was her mom sending her away?
Bonnie felt like she was going to throw up. She couldn’t leave New Orleans! Leave the Quarter and the magic in the air and Lucy and magic lessons and gymnastics and her coven and even stupid Léon.
She could barely make out what her mom said next. “The ancestors have spoken. Bonnie will stay here until the end of the month, for the parade. And then I’m sending her to Rudy.”
This couldn’t be happening.
Could it?