Oh bloody hell these chapters keep getting longer. You lucky fans. :P Enjoy!


Hermione gave Harry a smile as they walked toward the market together. He, of course, would have preferred to fly, but even setting aside her own dislike for brooms, it was a muggle market and still within the anti apparation wards Hermione had put up when they moved here. It was only two miles. Harry would manage just fine. They could, of course, shrink the groceries after purchase so the walk back didn't include lugging a handful of heavy sacks. "Easy Harry," she commented, noting her wards brisk pace. "We're in no hurry. I've nothing to do till I go get your cousin this afternoon."

Harry frowned at the remembrance. "What if he messes everything up, 'Melia?"

"How do you mean?" she asked. "I am certainly not going to tolerate any bullying if he thinks of trying to revisit that activity with you."

"No, I don't think he even would. Losing his mum, seeing what Uncle Vernon did, I don't think he's the same guy anymore," the boy replied. "I mean he's going to need a lot of attention. And what if… what if you and Sirius start to like him more?"

Hermione stopped in her tracks, turned to face her ward, placing a hand on each of his shoulders. "Harry, I know this is going to be an adjustment, but nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing will negate my love for you. Yes, in time I may come to love Dudley in much the same way I love you - as a son - but I will not pick favorites. I certainly don't pick favorites between my daughters."

Harry blinked. "You have kids?"

Hermione internally cursed at her careless remark in her effort to assure Harry. "One daughter with my first husband, and another with a lover some years later. Both passed away a long time ago," she said carefully. She still hated to lie to Harry, but it was getting harder and harder to share things that didn't give away clues to her origins."

"Wow," Harry mumbled, looking sorry it had come up. "Are you still in touch with their dads?"

"My elder daughter's father passed away some years before she did," she replied. "My second daughter died rather young, and her mum died a few years after she did."

Harry raised an eyebrow about the fact that his godmother had mothered a child with another woman, but said nothing of it. He was certainly in no place to judge a same-sex relationship. "Guess a lot of people died during the war," he said sadly. "What were their names? Your daughters?"

"Lucy and Helena," she replied with a smile, glad for once to be able to answer in complete honesty. It was such a rare thing for her to be able to do. Hell, she hadn't even gotten around to telling Minerva about Helena. "I trust you will keep this information to yourself, Harry. I do not talk about my past to many people, and prefer to keep the existance of my family from back then secret."

"Siri knows, I bet," Harry assumed. "And Minerva."

"And Mrs. Weasley. None of them knows about Helena," she replied. "Though I'd been meaning to tell at least Minerva. Please keep that part to yourself if you must discuss it at all."

"Why tell them about one daughter, but not the other?" he asked, suspiciously.

Well. Hermione had to stop and think of how to answer that one without outright lying. "I was the proverbial father regarding Helena. I was not aware of her conception, nor her birth, until after both she and her mother had passed away. I was able to gain access to some memories left by Helena, which is how I've been able to get to know what sort of girl she was. I've only just recently learned all this. I've merely not had a chance to speak to Minerva or Sirius about it."

Hermione was very nearly glad when there was a sudden chill in the air and a feel of dread, putting a complete stall in Harry's questioning. Nearly, as that feeling could only mean the presence of a Dementor from Azkaban, though how on earth one could be here of all places was concerning to say the least.

"Is that…?" Harry asked through chattering teeth, remembering the very day they'd met as three black robed figures glided towards them, the ground at their feet beginning to frost over.

"Stay close," she ordered sharply, pulling out her wand, and drawing on her memory to find something happy to draw on. As her time with Salazar, Rowena, and the rest were in the forefront of her mind at the present, her mind drifted to the distant past.

She was sixteen, and she was teaching the Founders the Patronus Charm. There had been recent attacks from wizards and witches upset with them for trying to buck tradition and create a school to educate wizarding children at. Many did not want to lose the loyalty having seventeen years of undivided influence purchased. Yesterday, Octavius LaFoy had set dread creatures upon them, which he'd supposedly summoned with black magic from another plane of existence. Dementors, he called them, though Hermione already knew that. She, having learned the charm aside Harry during their shared third year, eagerly showed the others how to defend against Dementors, which had earned her a bit of respect within the group.

"High arc, back to front, and in incantation is Expecto Patronum. You have to be thinking of a very happy memory or it won't work at all. The stronger the memory, the more effective the charm. Dementors take away all thought of happiness, and so overwhelming happiness is the only defense against them."

It was one of the few times Hermione could remember seeing Salazar struggle with someone. Rowena, too, for that matter. Helga and Godric were well used to having to work at getting new spells down, so they didn't mind when their first few attempts fizzled out. It took nearly an hour of trying, and several bars of chocolate, but Salazar was the first to get it right, a large cobra shooting out his wand tip. "I got it Hermione!" he said with a childlike glee. "I got it!"

"Expecto Patronum," Hermione said softly, clinging to the memory of his smile. It was not a cobra, or a raven that flew out of her wand, nor was it an otter like it had been some months prior. Once more, to her surprise, her Patronus had changed form. This time, it was a growling lioness that sprang forth, attacking the Dementors with a fierceness not unlike Hermione recalled seeing on Minerva's face the night Harry's name had been pulled from the Goblet of Fire.

As the lioness continued to chase the Dementors as though they were nothing more than mice, the memories fueling the Patronus stopped being about Salazar and Rowena, and images of Minerva began to take their place. If she hadn't already known, she knew now that she was completely, utterly, and irrevocably in love with her former Head of House. Life really was funny.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think to bring any chocolate," she said, turning to a still shaking Harry once the creatures were gone. "I'd suggest we turn back and head home, but we're closer to the market than home at this point, and we can just as easily get some there."

Harry nodded, not saying a word. She cast warming charms on both she and her ward before urging him to keep walking, this time at a faster pace. Fifteen minutes later, they were feeling much better as they split a bar of chocolate, and after quickly getting the groceries they needed, they headed home. Hermione made a mental note to talk to Albus and Minerva about adjusting the way the wards were layered, so that the anti-apparation ward could be removed by her in case of emergency. On the other hand, it crossed her mind that the Dementors may have been sent in the hopes that she would drop the wards to get herself and Harry to safety, allowing for other assailants to launch a surprise attack. The fact that her location had been compromised enough to even sent the Dementors was troublesome in its own right. Yes, she needed to have a very serious talk with her Secret Keeper, lover, and the other people who had access to her location.

A few hours later, after stressing to Sirius that he needed to keep an eye on Harry at all times while she was gone in case there was another attack, Hermione Flooed first to the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts, and then after stopping in to say hello to her lover, she Flooed from Minerva's office to the Ministry of Magic. She'd made it nearly to the elevators when she bumped into the last people she really wanted to deal with right now.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

"Oh, excuse us," Lucius said briskly, before stopping and doing a double take. "Oh my," he uttered, flashing a smile. "I had heard the rumours, but it is an honor to meet you, Madam Slytherin. I am…"

"Lucius Malfoy," Hermione finished for him. Even if she hadn't already done research on the Malfoy heir and seen pictures of he and his family, she'd have known it was him in any case. The man was the spitting image of Octavius LaFoy, and from what she could tell, just as bigoted and big headed. "Your son speaks… very highly of you."

"Good to hear, Madam," Lucius said smoothly. "Though I believe my wife and I would like to get to know you ourselves, whenever you can find the time. Isn't that right, my dear?" he asked his wife.

"Well of course," Narcissa agreed with a genuine smile. "We must have you to dinner sometime. You and your husband, if you have remarried in recent years."

Hermione laughed a little. "Mrs. Malfoy, while yes, I am indeed married, I very much doubt my husband would be welcome in your home. It's in poor taste to invite disowned relatives to dinner parties, I believe."

Lucius looked confused, though Narcissa understood at once. "Oh my," she uttered. "Forgive me, but how on earth do you manage to put up with that man?"

"With unimaginable patience," Hermione bantered, almost enjoying the sense of humor Narcissa seemed to have. "As I'm sure you can relate to, marriages are so often made for the sake of allegiance rather than love. I required Sirius' name. Sirius required a spouse without a Prison record in order to gain custody of his godson."

"Harry Potter," Lucius spat.

"I'd thank you to mind your tongue regarding my ward," she said sharply, frowning at Lord Malfoy. "Your son has managed to improve his behavior around Harry, and I'd hate to think that your teenaged son has more sense of decorum than his father."

Lucius suddenly looked regretful he'd thought to invite her to dinner, though Hermione noticed a subtle quirk of Narcissa's lip, betraying her amusement at the chastisement. "Of course," Lucius said stiffly. "Forgive me. Old habits die hard. The Malfoy and Potter lines have rarely seen eye to eye."

That was the bloody truth, Hermione thought wryly.

"Of course," Lucius added smoothly. "I will of course submit to the Lex Excetra. Whatever you wish, Madam Slytherin."

"Thank you," she said with a curt nod. "Now, I'm afraid I am here on business, to which I must attend. Good day to you both."

"And to you," Narcissa said with a smile. Lucius just nodded in return, not inclined to exchange pleasantries. Hermione didn't image she was anything like he'd imagined. She would not be surprised if, when forming the Serpent Accord, Salazar and the others had neglected to mention her muggleborn heritage when passing along the memory of her role in the early years of Wizarding society in the United Kingdom.

A few minutes later, Hermione was standing in the office of Atticus Bowman and shaking the man's hand. "Good to finally meet you in person, Madam," he greeted.

"You as well, Mr. Bowman," she replied. "Where is Dudley?"

"With my aide," Atticus replied. "I wanted to talk to you about a few things before we go fetch him."

Hermione nodded and took a proffered seat. "Go on."

"The boy was there when his mother died," the Muggle Liaison Officer continued. "Not sure if he saw it or just heard it, but he was there. Called the Bobbies - muggle version of the Auror office, that is…"

"I'm very familiar with the muggle world," Hermione interjected. "No need to explain the terminology."

Atticus nodded. "Anyway, he called the Bobbies, and they heard the boy's father screaming profanities in the background, shouting about how it was all the mother's fault, how she deserved to die, and so forth. Bobbies came in quite a hurry, of course, but she was dead when they arrived. Since the call young Dudley made, he hasn't said a word. Not a bloody peep from him."

"How has your office been communicating with him then?" she asked with a frown.

"Basically a game of yes and no questions," Atticus replied sadly. "We're hoping he'll open up again in time, but you needed to know what you were getting today. It's also been hard getting him to eat. I've seen pictures of him from as recent as a year ago and he was a great tub of a boy, but you'd hardly know it was the same lad now. Wouldn't quite call him twig like at this point, but he's obviously not been eating well in at least six months. We've got him taking Nutrition Potions, which has put some color back into his skin, but he can't stay on them for the rest of his life. Getting him to eat again is gunna be a trick, though I daresay with more portion control than he had up till recently."

Hermione nodded, remembering how Harry had told she and Ron that Dudley ate like a pig and looked like one too. Yes, getting Dudley healthy - physically, mentally, and emotionally - would be top priority. Any behavior problems would be addressed along the way, though her instincts said that after what he'd been through, she was probably getting as close to a clean slate child as could be had. The boy Harry had known had died when his mother had. While he'd certainly have issues after facing such a trauma, she and Minerva agreed, most of the problems Harry had described regarding his behavior were largely instilled by Vernon, who Dudley would be the least inclined to emulate after witnessing him murdering his own wife. "Anything else?" she inquired.

"Well, not that I suppose it matters much in the grand scheme, but it's standard procedure for this situation to test blood status, just in case the paternity comes into question," Atticus said, offering a file which presumably held the test results and the rest of Dudley's medical records. "And much to our collective surprise, it seems that Dudley is the son of two Squibs. Now, since the parents were listed as muggle, I did some checking, and get this. If both parents are Squib, a kid comes out registering as Squib as well. Which means that bother Petunia and Vernon Dursley came from wizarding lineage. I took the liberty of tracing back, and found that Vernon's maternal grandmother was a witch who married a muggle. Petunia's case was even more fluke like - her parents were both Squib, all four grandparents were Squib, and both sets of great grandparents were one magical, one muggle. Petunia's parents had a fifty-fifty shot at producing a magical child, and of course everyone knows Lily Potter was a brilliant witch. Likewise, Petunia and Vernon had a fifty-fifty shot of producing a magical child. Had young Dudley had a sibling, they may have been magical. Like I said, not really important in the grand scheme, but I thought perhaps it might help Dudley adjust to the wizarding world if he knows that it is in fact his birthright to do so. He'll be able to see and visit Hogwarts or Diagon Alley, just like any other Squib."

Hermione took all this info in, filing it in the mental box of things to discuss with Minerva. She knew, just before she'd left for the present, Rowena had been working on a Potion to activate the magical gene in Squibs, though it had not yet been finished. If Hermione could find the notes her former lover had left, or even the completed formula, there was a chance that Dudley could do a hell of a lot more than just visit Hogwarts. Perhaps she was being selfish, but it would be quite a bit easier to deal with a new ward if he could learn to protect himself from the harm being around she and Harry would inevitably bring. Of course, she'd never force it upon him. If Hermione could find the Potion, completed or completable, then she'd offer him a choice, list of pros and cons included. "Alright then, if there's nothing else - we did the paperwork via Owl - I'd like to meet my new ward."

"Of course," Atticus agreed. "This way."

Two rooms down, Dudley sat with the aide, looking with mild interest at a Quidditch magazine. He looked up when the door opened, a flicker of fear in his eyes though it vanished when she offered him a soft smile. She approached silently, taking a seat beside him and reaching out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. Hermione wasn't going to be pushy, but she wanted him to know that she was not going to hurt him. "Hello Dudley," she said softly. "My name is Amelia. Your mum asked that I look after you."

The boy looked at her and blinked, though it was no surprise when he said nothing.

"Are you ready to go to your new home?" she asked patiently.

There was some hesitation, justifiably so as she was a perfect stranger to him. All Hermione had authorized Atticus to tell Dudley about her was that she was his guardian at his mother's request, and that she was the one who'd taken custody of his cousin, Harry. Hermione hadn't wanted the boy to be startled when he was suddenly sharing living space with the cousin he'd not so much as heard from in over a year.

Finally, Dudley took a breath and nodded yes. Hermione reached out with her magic, much in the way she did with Sorting children new to Hogwarts, to get a feel on his emotions at that moment. She was not going to break into his mind without his consent, of course, but this was more akin to what muggles called "Empath senses". For Dudley, there was of course some fear, and some guilt - probably related to Harry - but under all of that there was a definite sense of hope, and Hermione smiled at that, knowing just how far hope could take a broken heart.


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