Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I do not own

A/N the first few chapters are going to be very similar to the Originals episodes, but that's to set up the story line. After that, it's going to be different, so please stick around for it. Please review and tell me what you think!

The club was full of dry-ice smoke. Neon lights danced around the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Music boomed louder than Hope thought possible; she knew her ears would still be ringing the next day. Still, she navigated her way through the crowd, headed for the bar.

Under normal circumstances, the club was the last place she'd go. In fact, she went out of her way to avoid places like that. She hated them. They were loud, the smoke made her cough, the lights were blinding. The large crowd of sweaty bodies doing what she guessed could pass as some kind of tribal dance didn't thrill her either.

She ducked under a swinging arm, dodged a girl twirling drunkenly and squeezed past another teen swaying in no way in time with the music and finally reached the bar. The bartender looked at her and scoffed.

"You want water? Cause that's all you're getting."

"I don't want anything." Hope told him quickly. She looked up and down the bar, searching for the teenage witch that had promised to meet her there. The witch had told her she knew all about the birthmark on Hope's shoulder and could point her in the direction of her family. The fact that she didn't spill the information right away was unnerving, but Hope figured nothing could happen in a crowded club.

Worst case scenario, it turned out the witch knew nothing at all and she had wasted her time. Best case scenario… Hope didn't want to think about 'best' anything. She'd never had much luck in any area of her life, so she planned for the worst at all times.

Someone bumped into her shoulder and her ribcage slammed into the bar. She gritted her teeth, straightening up. Don't kill anyone, don't kill anyone, she reminded herself. Werewolf temper. Dangerous thing.

She knew all about the supernatural world. Witches, werewolves, vampires, the whole nine yards. She knew she was a witch with the potential to be a werewolf, should she kill anyone. In places like this, with everyone bumping into each other, with drunken guys trying to flirt with anyone with a pulse, her resolve to avoid murder was tested.

Someone pushed her hair aside from behind and she whirled, hand slapping theirs away before she even saw who was responsible for touching her. The woman, who looked older than everyone else in the club, chuckled.

"I was just checking out your mark. You were supposed to meet Yasmine here, right?" Off the blank look on Hope's face, she continued: "Teenage witch, five feet tall, too talkative for her own good?"

"Oh, that one. Didn't get her name."

"Yet you agree to meet her in a place you've never been before. You must be desperate." The woman noted.

"Where is she?" Hope had no patience for small-talk or other people questioning her admittedly questionable decisions.

"She couldn't come. I came instead. Between you and me, I'm much better company. I'm Sophie Devereaux." She held out her hand, obviously expecting Hope to introduce herself and shake her hand. Hope was used to not living up to people's expectations; it didn't bother her anymore.

"What do you know my family?"

"Not much for small talk, are you?"

"What do you know?" Hope repeated, hoping that she would get the point.

"They're a group of werewolves, but you already knew that, right? They were cursed a long time ago. They're not human anymore."

"Really, they're cursed? Not human anymore? Never would have gotten that from the world 'werewolf'. You're not helping me." Hope started to walk away, but Sophie caught her arm.

"Wait."

"You know something I don't or I'm leaving."

"Let me buy you a drink and we'll talk."

"I'm not here to drink. And I'm sixteen." Hope had to yell the last part; Sophie was already walking towards the bartender. She was ignored, so she stood there and waited for Sophie to return.

It was hot in the club, even though she'd chosen to wear some revealing clothes to fit in. Her tank top was sticking to her back and her hair was frizzing out because of the humidity. Still better looking than this lot, she thought, glancing around the crowd.

Sophie sauntered back over, carrying a glass. She handed it to Hope.

"Bottoms up." Since it didn't seem like Sophie was going to talk until she drank, Hope obeyed. The liquid burned her tongue and her throat on the way down and she ended up coughing as Sophie took the glass back with a smile.

"What was that?"

"It's called alcohol, honey. Never had it?

"Did you not hear the part where I'm sixteen?"

"So what? You're a good sixteen year old? You've never run away? You've never come to a strange city to chase down leads about a family you've never even met?"

"Okay. I think we're done." Hope was uncomfortable and suddenly woozy. She started to walk past Sophie, but Sophie caught her arm. Hope struggled, but she was too weak to do anything.

"When I was looking at your mark, I grabbed some of your hair. Passed it off to my friend. Right now, we're proving your worth. Then you'll be our leverage."

"And you're telling me you've evil plan… why?" That wasn't really the question that Hope wanted to ask, but that's what slipped out first.

"Oh, I just need it to look like we're having a chat. You're about to fall unconscious anyway." As if on queue, Hope collapsed. A warlock was behind her to catch her and swing her up into his arms.

"Looks like our friend can't hold her alcohol! Come on." Sophie spoke loudly to the warlock and they quickly left, with Hope limp in the warlock's arms.

"Jane-Anne Devereaux! Give it up for Jane-Anne! Come on, let's hear it!" Marcel was good at getting his men worked up. They surrounded the witch like a pack of hungry wolves. Klaus stood beside Marcel, watching the whole thing going down. Marcel twirled the thin tree branch in his hand.

"Jane-Anne Devereaux, you have been accused of the practice of witchcraft beyond the bounds of the rules set forth and enforced by me. How do you plead?" Marcel glanced at Klaus.

"Was that convincing? I studied law back in the fifties. Hold that thought." He turned back to Jane-Anne. "Seriously, Jane, tick-tock. You know the drill. How do you plead?"

"I didn't do anything." Jane-Anne told him tonelessly, as if she'd already accepted her fate. The crowd around her laughed.

"That's a lie. You know it, I know it and you hate that I know it. It drives you witches crazy that I'm aware of your every move. That you can't do magic in this town without getting caught. So why don't we just cut to the chase, huh? You tell me what magic you were brewing. I mean, you tell me, I'll grant you leniency. Hey, I am, after all, a merciful man."

Jane-Anne just scoffed. Like I'm going to tell him about that girl. She's our last chance, she thought. So she just shook her head at Marcel.

"Rot in hell, monster." A rumble went through the crowd and Marcel's smile faded somewhat.

"I'll tell you what; I'll give you one more chance…" Marcel flicked out the branch so fast that it slit open Jane-Anne's throat. She gagged, her hands shooting up in a feeble attempt to stop the blood rushing out and then collapsed, dead.

"Or not."

Hope woke up with a headache and the urge to murder someone. She tried to move, but found she was chained to a wall. Blinking, her vision cleared and she saw she was in a mausoleum, lit up with candles, as if that made the place any less creepy. She was alone, which meant they didn't think she was much of a threat.

She rolled her shoulders and wrapped the chains around her wrists to get a better grip on them. Then she started yanking on them, trying to get them out of the wall.

"That's not gonna work." Hope jumped and craned her neck to see Sophie standing in the doorway.

"You drugged me?!" Hope yelled at her. Sophie strode forward, calm as ever. Hope got a better grip on the chains, pressing herself against the wall.

"You're our leverage."

"Leverage over what? Or who? No one cares about me."

"A certain group people will."

"Great. You're just a lunatic!" Hope spat out. Sophie didn't seem fazed by this; she stood directly in front of Hope now, no fear in her eyes.

"You should me thanking me and my sister!"

"For what? Kidnapping me? Where is this dear sister of yours? I owe her a good kick in the teeth!"

"She's dead. She died so that we could do a spell to confirm the one thing that makes you valuable." Sophie hissed. Hope stared at her. Spell. The word echoed in her head. She knew magic. One of her previous foster mothers taught her the basics, claiming it was her to duty to make sure she didn't do something stupid that would end with the entire witch community in danger. So Hope knew that spells were powerful things and that one that resulted in death was even worse.

"And what did it confirm?" Hope asked, trying to sound braver than she was.

"Who your father is." Sophie seemed to enjoy the look of utter shock on Hope's face, because she smirked and continued on: "His name is Niklaus Mikaelson. You're new to the supernatural world, so I'll fill you in. He's the worst. The monster that monsters are afraid of. His protégée is the one running this town, killing witches that practice magic. We can't do the simplest of spells without his vampires raining down on us!" Sophie's voice steadily rose to a yell.

"May I suggest moving?" Hope asked, sounding calmer than she felt.

"We shouldn't have to leave our own home!"

"Your sister just died to do a spell that will supposedly give you leverage to take out this vampire running the city! Home is worth nothing without your family!"

"How would you know anything about family?" That was like a slap in the face for hope and Sophie knew it. My father. Niklaus Mikaelson. A monster. The thought overrode any other conscious thoughts in her mind. She had to admit, Hope Mikaelson had a nice ring to it, but she was committed to the whole idea. They're wrong. They made a mistake. She closed her eyes, thinking hard.

First things first, she had to get out. Forget New Orleans and the bayou and her stupid birthmark. She would find her family some other way. Preferably a way that wouldn't end with her being captured by psychotic witches.

But first…

She lifted herself up on the chains and kicked out. Sophie didn't have time to move out of the way of her foot. She stumbled back, her hand flying up to her bleeding nose. She recovered slowly, her head rising so she could look at Hope again. Hope looked pleased with herself.

That pleased look was promptly slapped off her face by Sophie. While Hope grimaced and tried not to cry out from the sharp blow, Sophie calmed herself down.

"I'll leave you to think. It'll be a while before we're ready to use you." Sophie started to stomp out, but she stopped in the doorway, turning back to Hope.

"Oh, and welcome to New Orleans." With that, Sophie was gone. Hope hung by her chains and, finally, let out the scream she'd been holding in. She was a prisoner. She was leverage. Going to New Orleans had been a mistake. She was going to die in a cemetery, no less.

Hope swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut. Her true father didn't matter. The witches and their problem with the vampires didn't matter. Her life mattered. And that was something she wasn't going to let go without a fight.

"Bring her out!" Hope had no idea how much later the shout from Sophie came. It could have been hours, it could have been days. Time didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that someone was coming in to get her.

Two warlocks walked into the mausoleum. They didn't even see the chain coming. It slapped one of them across the face and he fell to the floor. Hope wrapped the chain around the throat of the second, strangling him.

"Next time, don't imprison someone that has magic." She let his unconscious body drop to the ground and then high-tailed it out of the mausoleum. She barely made it two steps before pain erupted in her head again. She dropped to her knees, biting back a scream. The warlocks and witches surrounded her, moving to grab her.

The pain faded as two warlocks managed to grab a hold of her and haul her to her feet. She kicked and struggled as they dragged her around a corner, but they had a good grip. Around the corner, Sophie was waiting, with a man that Hope had never seen before. He didn't look like the monster to end all monsters, so Hope figured that this wasn't her father.

"This is Klaus's daughter." Sophie told her, waving with her hand.

"And you've held her here against her will?" The man asked calmly, his eyes never leaving Hope.

"She's our leverage. Don't worry, I have a feeling she's done quite a number on some of my people too." Sophie told him angrily. Hope looked at the two warlocks holding onto her arms; they weren't paying much attention to her beyond holding her there. Idiots, she thought, somewhat smugly.

She kicked out, catching one in the back of the knee. He let her arm go as he fell to the ground and she elbowed him in the face for good measure. Hope kicked up and caught the other warlock in the chin. As he fell towards the ground, she got him in some kind of wrestler's hold, legs wrapped around his chest and throat, arm angled back at a position that made it easy to dislocate.

Elijah watched in curiosity and more than a little surprise. Sophie, however, just seemed annoyed and angry.

"Hey, hey!" She cried, like that was going to make Hope stop. Her 'people' swarmed forward, but the Elijah blurred over to Hope and they all stopped, waiting wearily.

"Let him go." He told her sternly. Hope looked at him.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan. Then they'll kill me."

"I give you my word; I will not allow that to happen." He seemed fairly trustworthy, but the only thing that really sunk in was that she was surrounded and they were about to brain-pain her again. She snapped the warlock's arm back and he let out a scream. Then she let him go.

Elijah took her arm to help her to her feet, but she brushed him off and stood up by herself, glaring at Sophie as the other warlocks slowly backed up, most likely scared of Elijah. Hope stuck close to his side.

"I would like to speak to her alone." Elijah told Sophie. She nodded, somewhat reluctantly, and motioned towards the nearest mausoleum. Elijah waved Hope ahead of him and she hurried inside. As Elijah followed her, Sophie called after him:

"She doesn't leave until I say!"