"Can you believe it?"

"A villain living among us! Eighteen years and no one knew! I thought they had captured them all!"

"All but one."

"What about her daughter? Why isn't she being locked away?"

"They say she hadn't done anything wrong."

"That we know of."

"They can't let her walk free! She's the daughter of The Evil Queen for goodness sake! She should be sent to The Isle to keep us all safe!"

Whispers and wary glances followed Evie like a dark omen. No matter how hard she tried she could not ignore them. They were everywhere. Evie was used to being in the spotlight - it was something she had been taught to covet and thrive towards - but not like this. This was not the fame she craved, this was infamy. Now everyone avoided her, afraid of who and what she was. Villain's child. Witch's descendant. The evil princess. Her classmates refused to talk to her, her teachers either ignored her or belittled her, people on the street gossiped and pointed, and her friends had abandoned her. Not a single person in Auradon hadn't turned against her.

With her mother gone, captured by the heroes and banished to The Isle of the Lost, she had no one. She was alone in a world that scorned and shunned her. Sometimes she wished the heroes had dragged her away like they had done her mother. At least then she would have been with people like her, people who understood her and would still have had her mother by her side.

Stars, how she loathed this place and everyone in it. She wasn't sure how much more of Auradon's ill-treatment she could take. She kept her head high, her words polite, smile soft and pretended she wasn't affected, that it didn't bother her that everyone loathed her and wanted her gone.

Her self-denial ended only a few months after her mother had been stolen away from her.

Evie had returned home late one night from another trying day at school, alarmed to find the door unlocked and left ajar. The sight she was greeted with was the final straw.

Her castle, her home, her only sanctuary in a world that despised her had been wrecked. Someone had snuck in while she was out and lay waste to the caste, no room being spared. The furniture was toppled and broken, her possessions shattered and scattered across the floors, the curtains shredded, the windows and mirrors smashed, and garbage had been strewn everywhere. Across the walls, in dripping red paint were all manners of graffiti. 'Sleeping death for the evil princess', 'There's no place like The Isle of The Lost', 'Witch!', 'Villain!', 'Old Hag!', 'Return to The Isle!', 'Mirror mirror on the wall, who will never be the fairest one of all?'

Evie stood in the centre of her living room, gazing numbly at the ruins of her home. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks as her chest heaved with ragged breaths.

As though possessed, Evie felt her feet move on their own accord. She let them take her through her home, seeing what damage had been done to each and every room. Every footstep she took, she could hear the crunch of glass and splintering of wood. Her fingers skimmed along the slashed wallpaper, occasionally ghosting over fresh graffiti, staining her fingertips blood red.

When Evie reached upstairs, her hand flew up to cover her mouth, a strangled gasp bursting from her chest.

Lying everywhere, piled on the floor, stacked on the overthrown furniture and sitting on the window sills were apples. Hundreds of rotten red and green apples. Mockingly, they winked at her in the moonlight seeping in through the windows.

Evie bent down and picked up one of the green apples, gripping it tightly.

An apple for the daughter of the Evil Queen. Her mother's token of death. Auradon had made their point perfectly clear.

Something snapped inside of her then, like a lock to a cage cracking under too much pressure, finally allowing the door to burst open. What it had contained was something cold, cruel and vicious. Something truly ugly and nasty, swelling with rage and thirsting for revenge. Evie felt it fill her entire being, hardening her eyes and twisting her lips into a snarl.

Outside, dark clouds hid the moon, casting the room into darkness. A light rain began drizzling against the window, a harsh wind rattling it in its frame. Evie stood in the darkness, her eyes shut tightly as she fought to control her tears and breathing.

Was this how her life was to be now? Bullied, degraded and despised? To have no safe place to return to after a day filled with being looked down on and spat on?

No. No, she refused to let this be! She was Evie, daughter of The Evil Queen, the true heir to her throne. Her mother's magic ran through her veins, the blood of a witch. She was a princess and no one could sneer their nose at her. She had never given the Auradonians a reason to hate her, never had a chance to show the world what she was capable of. But now, oh now she would. If a villain was how they saw her then a villain she would be. She would give them a reason to be scared.

With a single thought, the fireplace burst into flames, casting long shadows around the room. Evie's eyes dropped to the apple in her hand, her mother's ancient spell whispering darkly in her ear.

Put the apple in the brew, let the sleeping death seep through...

A draft swept through the room, stirring the torn curtains and open books. It carried with it a familiar scent of freshly baked apples, both sweet and fresh. It reminded Evie of her mother standing over her bubbling, foggy cauldron, guiding her through recipes, potions and all manners of brews. Generations of wisdom and witchery had been passed down to her through her mother. She would not let it go to waste, cowering behind a facade of politeness and timidness in futile hopes of going by unnoticed and being free of Auradon's hateful glares.

Look on the skin, the symbol of what lies within...

Evie tilted the apple in the flickering light, her mouth opening as the last words of the spell fell from her lips, her mother's voice whispering alongside it, as though she were here beside her. "Now turn red, to tempt someone to take their hunger for a bite."

The windows clattered loudly, struggling against the powerful winds picking up outside. Lightning lit up the room in a flare of white. If anyone had been able to see Evie's shadow on the wall in those moments, they would not have seen the silhouette of a young princess, but that of the Evil Queen - a tall, regal figure with a billowing cape and crown upon her head.

Evie could feel the vibrations in the air, the crackling energy of her magic coming forth. She felt the jolt of power tingling from her chest, moving to her fingertips. The rotten apple in her hand began to change as the magic flowed into it. The mouldy and decayed skin began bubbling, a light green mist rising from it. Slowly, the skin melted away, dropping to the floor in clunks of green foam. No longer was there a rotten, green apple in Evie's hand. Instead, there was a beautiful, crimson apple shining brightly. An apple so perfect and mouthwatering to look at that no one, not even a fair princess who knew better, could resist the temptation to sink their teeth into it.

Evie smiled, tossing the apple in the air and catching it.

Oh, Auradon and its people had faced many horrors. They had faced fire-breathing dragons, evil genies, fierce armies, sea monsters, spirits and all manner of curses. But just wait...

"They ain't seen nothing yet," Evie whispered, a malicious grin spreading on her face as lightning illuminated the room.

And the best part was, her enemies had given her the perfect plan.

Evie brought the apple to her ruby lips, kissing it tenderly.

Delicately held between Evie's fingers, an antique silver key glistened in the sunlight. Evie gazed at it wondrously, breathless at what she had found. She thought they had taken it, whisked it away as they had her mother. But no, here it was, having been hidden in the shrubbery of the garden. Fleetingly, she recalled the night her mother had been taken.

Armed guards battering the door to her mother's bedroom. Grey clouds darkening the skies. Her mother throwing open the window, tossing something out. Men charging towards her mother, grabbing her by the arms and hauling her away. Tears and screams of protest from a terrified daughter left behind. Darkness. Grief. Fear.

This had been what her mother had tossed from the window. It had to be. The key with a ghostly face that protected a treasure more valuable than any artefact that the Auradonians had stolen for their museums. With this, she had more power. With this... she wouldn't be alone anymore...

Evie rose to her feet and left the garden, swiftly heading back into the castle. She ran through the ruined castle, her boots echoing loudly in the barren halls. She had not bothered to repair her home. One day, she would have the beautiful palace that she longed for and deserved. Until then, her ruined home was a harsh reminder to never let her guard down, that her enemies were close and would strike her down the first chance they got. It nourished her fury seeing the carnage and being forced to live in it. The castle was no longer fit fort royalty, but it was the perfect dwelling for a witch biding her time.

The only part of her home that she tended to diligently was her garden, ensuring that the plants and trees were healthy and cared for. It was the only thing that mattered. The only thing she needed. In the garden lay all the ingredients for any potion or spell she could imagine. One day she would get her revenge against those who had wronged her and the garden held the key.

Evie hurried up the staircase that led to the tallest tower, where a room she had not been allowed to enter in nearly a decade lay in wait. She paused by the door, slowly inserting the key into the lock. She hesitated before turning it, her heart jolting when she heard the resounding click of the door unlocking.

After all this time - finally - she could enter the room.

Tentatively, Evie entered, her breath hitching when she saw the magic mirror on the wall. Slowly, she made her way over to it before reaching out and wiping away the layer of cobwebs clinging to it like a veil.

"Long time no see, old friend," Evie whispered fondly.

In a puff of green smoke, the man in the mirror appeared, still as emotionless as the day she last saw him. Despite his cold appearance, Evie felt a touch of warmth fill her. She wasn't alone. Not completely now. Now she had help. All the power of the magic mirror was at her fingertips. Any question she should have the all-knowing mirror would answer.

Only one thought occupied her mind, one that had haunted her for near a decade. One that could not wait any longer.

"Mirror, mirror let me take a look, at my true love... Harry Hook."

"Happy birthday, Harry!"

Harry grinned at the eruption of cheers and whistles as he entered Ursula's Fish and Chip Shop. Red and black banners, streamers and balloons decorated the shop, many of the balloons painted with crude versions of The Jolly Roger's flag's skulls and crossbones. There was less than pleasant looking grub laid out on all the tables, much of it already half eating by the swarms of villains cramped into the small shop. Uma and Gil - his two oldest and dearest friends - ushered him into the shop, their arms tossed over his shoulders.

"Welcome to your surprise birthday party," Uma said with a smile. "Nineteen years old and still no ones killed you. Wonders never cease."

"Not from a lack of trying though," Harry said, giving Uma a cheeky wink.

Harry, Uma and Gil took a seat in the centre of the shop, at a table reserved for them. After a quick bite to eat, Harry had gotten to open his presents and then shared a few dances with his mates. The party was a blast, only a few fights and arguments breaking out here and there - which really wasn't a problem as it provided good entertainment. It was later on in the night when the party had started to dwindle that Harry noticed Madame Mim - an old friend of his father - approaching him.

He did his best to hide his grimace.

"Hello there, my boy! My look at you! I haven't seen you since you were knee-high!" Madame Mim said, reaching over and ruffling his hair, much to his annoyance. "Shame you seemed to have skipped out on your father's good looks."

Harry fought to hide his scowl, barely biting back a cheeky remark about her haggard appearance. If his father found out he had been rude to an ally he'd be flung overboard faster than Peter Pan could crow. Villains or not, his father was a firm believer in good manners and proper etiquette - good form, as he called them. Captain Hook expected the same of his children, that they act like proper ladies and gentlemen. They were civilised pirates, after all. Other villains often gave him and his sisters raised eyebrows at their properness; it wasn't considered normal or right for a villain to say things like 'please' and 'thank you' or bowing and pulling out chairs for ladies. Harry suspected his families courteous ways had a lot to do with his father's upper-class upbringing before he had turned to piracy.

"I have a gift for you," Madame Mim continued, oblivious to Harry's irritation. Madame Mim reached into her sleeve, pulling out a fine looking apple before throwing it to him. "Straight from my garden. Quite a beauty, eh?"

Harry thanked her unsurely, not quite impressed with being given a fruit for his birthday present. Of all the things she could have given him, why this? It certainly looked delicious though, not rotten like most food on the Isle.

"Did you know," Madame Mim began conversationally, taking a seat right beside Harry, much to the boy's dismay, "that you can find out the name of your true love with an apple?"

"Really?" Gil asked, sounding excited. "How do you do that?"

"I'll only tell you boy if you ask nicely," Madame Mim smiled knowingly, tapping her nose. "Wouldn't you like to know the name of your true love, dear?"

"I couldn't care less," Harry said dryly, quickly losing patience with playing nice with the old witch. Couldn't she find someone else to annoy?

"Oh, don't be like that you sour sap," Madame Mim tsked, swatting Harry's arm. "Everyone wants to know who they're getting hitched to. Now take the apple and start twisting the stem. As you do that, say a name out loud, any name. Whatever name you said when the stem comes off is the name of your true love!"

Harry rolled his eyes, tossing the apple into the air and catching it. He examined it idly, not at all interested. He glanced at Gil, who was looking eagerly at him, clearly wanting him to attempt the silly game. A small crowd had formed around them, curious to see what they were up to.

"Fine," Harry mumbled.

Harry began rattling off names, twisting the apples stem for every one. After five minutes of name-calling and twirling the stem, he began to grow very agitated. The stem wouldn't come off. In a fit of annoyance, he tried yanking it off, fed up with this nonsense. Still, the stubborn stem remained attached to the apple.

"Oh, for crying out loud! This blasted thing's refusing tae come aff!" Harry snarled.

Gil tried clutching the apple while Harry pulled the stem, both grunting as they strained with all their might. Several people around them began sniggering at their pitiful attempt, which only served to rile up Harry even more. If this went on any longer someone was going to get hooked!

"I think you got a bad apple," Gil panted, giving up and flopping down on his seat.

"Give us another one," Harry sighed, putting out his hand.

"No, no, no!" Madame Mim snapped. "That apples fine! He just hasn't guessed the right name yet! It doesn't matter what apple you do it with! If it isn't the right name it won't come off! Now, try again!"

"I've mentioned everyone on this bloody isle! Including you!" Thank the Gods the stem hadn't come off when he had. "Who else is there tae-"

A thought occurred to him then, making him glance at the apple warily.

I wonder...

"Evie," Harry said.

The apple's stem twisted off easily.

Everyone erupted into cheers and clinked their mugs, thankful for the end of the frustratingly long game. Only Harry remained quiet, staring at the apple with confusion.

"And there you have it," Madame Mim said, a pleased smile on her face.

Gil scratched his head. "Who's Evie?"

"No idea," Harry lied.

Eventually, Madame Mim and Gil left him alone with his apple and his thoughts. There was some commotion outside, drawing everyone away but a scant few. Harry was too lost in a daze to care.

Absentmindedly, he spun the apple stem in his hand, memories of a blue-haired princess behind the glass of a mirror returning. After her mother had stormed into the room that day, he had never seen the fair princess again. In his youth, he had tried fruitlessly to see her, calling out for her in every mirror he could find. Eventually, he grew tired of looking for, his belief in her eroding away. He began to doubt that she had ever been real, that she was merely a figment of his imagination. A dream. A foolish wish. After all, no one else had ever seen her and he had no physical proof that she was real. If she had been real, surely, she would have found a way to speak to him again? They had been friends, hadn't they? They had made a promise. She wouldn't leave him here to rot.

"Harry, quick, check this out!"

Harry drew his eyes away from the apple stem, looking up to find an excited Gil bouncing on the balls of his heel.

"What are ye so excited about?" Harry asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"The heroes found her! They found The Evil Queen and have brought her to The Isle!" Gil said as he grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him to his feet. "Come on! I want to see what she looks like! My papa used to tell me stories about her when I was little! She's the one who tried to poison Snow White with an apple so she could take over the kingdom!"

"Wait a minute-" Harry shrugged off Gil, fixing him with a look of shock. "The Evil Queen? She's here? On The Isle?"

"Yeah, the heroes caught her a few weeks ago but they just brought her here today!" Gil said. "Maleficent, Jafar and Cruella are at the town square to meet her. Though apparently, they aren't happy with her, you know, since she left us all here to rot. But hey, it's not like they would have done any different- hey, Harry, wait a second!"

Before Gil could finish, Harry had scrambled to the door and taken off down the streets, rudely shoving aside anyone who got in his way.

If The Evil Queen was here then so was her daughter, if she had been real. Gil was right when he said Maleficent and the other villains weren't pleased with the Queen. She had let her greed get the better of her, refused to aid her fellow villains and left them all to wallow on the Isle while she flitted about freely. If Evie was with her mother, then she was in danger.

He had to get to her before the other villains did.

No one would harm her, not if he had anything to say about it.

Evie bit her lip, quickly fixing her hair before the mirror's pale face was consumed by red smoke. And just like that, there he was. Harry Hook. Her childhood friend and fated lover, leaning against the wall of his bedroom, staring at his feet and oblivious to her presence.

He was no longer a boy, but a young man on the edges of adulthood. His hair was darker than she remembered and much to her irritation, he looked taller than her - something she was sure he would lord over her. He was dressed in a white shredded blouse, black ripped jeans, and a sleeveless long red coat that reminded her of his father's one. Just seeing her childhood friend in the mirror was enough to raise her spirits, lifting the spell of despair that had cursed her these long and lonely months. For the first time in forever, Evie's face crinkled into a smile.

So he took my advice, Evie mused happily, eyeing the fake hook held loosely in his hand.

She was about to call out for him when she realized something was wrong. He slid down the wall, landing with a thump. He sat with his knees bent, his arms draped limply over each knee. He looked tired, his dark hair plastered to his face with sweat. His gaze was empty as he stared hard at the floor. That desolate look in his eyes and limp posture did not suit her pirate. Her pirate was cheeky and lively and filled with fire. What could have caused him such sorrow? Who had dared hurt him?

"Has being away from me for so long been that upsetting, Pirate Boy?" Evie quipped.

Harry's head shot up, his eyes widening at the floor-length mirror across from him. For a few moments, he seemed dumbfounded, blinking quickly. He wobbled to his feet, one hand resting on the wall to support him. He let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Princess?" he asked, the beginnings of a smile spreading on his face. "Is that really you?"

"In the flesh... sorta," Evie said with a nervous laugh. "Long time no see."

"For a while there I thought... maybe I had just dreamed ye up," Harry whispered, moving closer to the mirror.

"Well, I have been told I am quite dreamy," Evie said teasingly.

"I bet ye have," Harry said, his old grin making a delightful appearance.

He pointedly gave her a long look, taking in the sight of her from head to toes and back again.

Evie tried her best not to let him know how much his compliment fluttered her heart. In the past, flattery and sweet words stroked her ego but seldom did she let it show. But now, it was hard to bite back the widening of her smile and the blush lighting up her cheeks. It had been so long since anyone had been nice to her, to have someone speak freely and playfully with her. The weeks since her Mother's capture had been horrible, wearing her down bit by bit. Ever sneer, every jeer and every hateful whisper behind her back pushing her further and further into misery.

"What's got you so down in the blues?" Evie asked lightly, hoping her own hardships were not noticeable behind her smile.

"I heard about yer mum being brought tae The Isle," Harry replied, his voice soft. "I went there tae see if ye were there but ye weren't, so I thought that ye weren't..." Real, Harry's unspoken word hung between them. Harry shook his head, running a hand through his messy hair. "How come yer not here with her?"

Evie felt her smile falter.

"I've not done anything bad so they have no reason to lock me away on The Isle," Evie replied. She forced another smile onto her face. "Yet."

Harry grinned, taking a few strides forward to bring him as close to the mirror as he could. He lifted his hand, placing it flat against the glass. Evie's heels clicked loudly against the dusty marble floor as she approached the mirror. She reached up, placing her hand over Harry's, her fingers spreading out. Apart of her had expected something to happen, to perhaps be able to feel the heat from Harry's hand or something. To her disappointment, all she felt was the coolness of the glass. So close, yet still so far.

"Do you still want to get off The Isle?" Evie asked quietly.

"Of course." Harry snorted, as though the answer should have been obvious. And it was. After all, who on Earth would want to stay trapped on a tiny island, stuck with the most terrible people in existence, stripped of their magic, forbidden to see their homelands, and given only the scraps of Auradon? "The faster I get off this blasted Isle the better. Besides, I have a promise tae keep. Don't think I've forgotten, Princess."

"If I can break down the barrier you'll become my Prince Charming." Evie laughed, remembering their silly promise. She quirked an eyebrow, giving Harry a slow glance over. She pursed her lip, lowering her hand and crossing her arms. "Hmm, I don't know. I don't think you'll be able to live up to your end of the bargain. You look like you still have a long way to go before you come anywhere close to being princely."

Harry scoffed, crossing his arms and giving her a mock offended look. "Trust me, Princess. I'm the closest thing tae a prince ye'll find in this place."

Evie laughed. All too soon tears fell from her eyes, her smile wavering. She ducked her head, hiding her face behind waves of blue. Startled by her change in demeanour, Harry instantly pressed himself against the glass, wanting to be closer.

"Evie, what's wrong?" he asked. The concern in his voice only made her cry harder. How long had it been since someone expressed any worry over her well-being? How long had it been since someone cared for her?

"I just-" Evie cleared her throat, trying her best to put a smile on her face. She didn't want him to think her weak, to openly admit that Auradon had succeeded in making her miserable. "I'm just happy to see you again. I haven't had someone to talk to since mother..."

She couldn't bear to tell him of how cruel Auradon had been to her, but she knew he could tell her life hadn't been easy. Harry's face softened, his hand clenching at his side.

"Princess, I promise ye, yer not alone anymore."

Evie nodded, wiping away her tears on her sleeve. The small reassurance felt good to hear.

"I know."

"Do ye have a plan to get us out of here?"

Evie flipped her hair from her face, giving Harry a wicked grin despite the tears still sneaking down her cheeks. "Naturally. Ready to light the fuse?"

Harry grinned.