Just a quick note: the Potter/Granger/Weasley split won't be talked about in depth since it takes place in the four years between the end of the war and the start of this story, but it was more a case of wanting different things out of life, with a touch of post-war trauma involved.


The day dawned bright, the sky blistering with radiant sunlight and clear skies even as those going about the day felt anything but wonderful.

Potter Hall had been unusually somber; Harry and Teddy were expected at the anniversary gala held in honour of those who had lost their lives, and Elia was attending alongside her children.

Ignoring the whispers that broke out when they entered the Great Hall at Hogwarts, Elia tucked an errant curl into place on Teddy's head as she murmured, "Will you be fine?"

"Peachy," Harry muttered, a small smile on his face. "Just a few hours to deal with them before we can go home."

Oddly, for all that Harry had despised public appearances when she first met him, this was one of the few he had no qualms with. The anniversary of Voldemort's defeat was often used as a day to lavish praise on him, but he had always used it to remind the rest of the world of the incredible sacrifice that had been made in those dark days.

The group he had been referring to was obvious, and Elia could feel the lingering glances sent by those he had once been so close to.

They sat in the front row, Minister Shacklebolt greeting Elia and the children.

"Teddy," he said. "You've gotten so big."

"Thank you, sir," Teddy replied, moving forward to take his seat. Aegon and Rhaenys claimed the chairs on either side of him, a slight scowl on their faces as they saw the number of people eagerly watching their brother.

"Behave," Elia murmured as she took her seat, leaning so that they could hear her. "We don't need another accident."

At her pointed look, Aegon turned slightly sheepish. Elia hid her fond smile, turning instead to those seated near them.

There was a family of redheads, with varying shades of colour mixed in as their eyes flittered between where she sat and where Harry stood with his old professor.

Narcissa was keeping to the back of the hall, she knew; much as the woman had done in keeping Harry alive, her prior actions had not truly been forgotten. Nor did she seem keen on entering the spotlight.

A slight hush fell over the room as Minerva McGonagall took to the podium. The old battleaxe swept her stern glare across the hall, eyes softening at the sight of Teddy. They had come to an odd truce, content to ignore any problems so long as did not harm Teddy. Thankfully, the older woman had softened to her sometime in the past two years, and Elia was silently grateful she would not have to deal with a woman as learned in magic as she was.

"…allow me to welcome Herakles Potter-Black."

"Thank you," Harry said, waiting for the light applause to die down.

"Seventy years ago, a young wizard received a letter from this very school. He had come to Hogwarts brimming with potential, eager to learn as much of magic as he could. Young Tom was expected to become the future minister, an unspeakable, go to the ICW; the very world was at his fingertips. But he chose instead to bring destruction to the world.

Tom would go on to gather followers, seducing them with promises of glory and power. And in the midst of it all stood a number of people who refused to bow down to what he truly was. He did not want to restore the Wizarding World to glory. He did not intend to share his power with anyone else, for he believed that he deserved it all. Thousands of people died in a seven-year span, in hopes to see an end to the terror he had plunged them into. It would take a couple desperate to protect their child to see his end, but the world hadn't known that it wasn't the end.

In 1994, the first casualty of the second war came in the form of Bertha Jorkins, whose only crime had been her concern for a fellow worker. The second…the second would be Cedric Diggory, a young man with a bright future ahead of him. Cedric's only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And on it went. Innocent people harmed as Tom Riddle attempted to grasp power. Thousands killed, magical and non-magical, in his attempt to mould the world to his vision. That is why we are gathered here today. To honour those who lost their lives for simply being there; for daring to exist; for fighting to restore order to a world that had fallen to a madman.

Today, we honour those who once were amongst us, old and young, who deserved to live fulfilling lives without fear. Those who had made the difficult decision, at times, to do what was necessary to end a threat to us all. Those amongst us who stood strong in the face of disaster, and who live our lives every day – befriending those we might once have scorned, loving freely when it might not have been tolerated – to honour the ones who died so we could do so. Thank you."

There was thunderous applause as Harry took the empty seat next to her, and Elia slid her hand into his, feeling Harry's grip tighten slightly as his fingers curled around hers.


It was as she was exiting the hall to use the restroom that she came across Hermione Granger. The woman was seemingly lying in wait, brown hair softly curled as her brown eyes bore into Elia.

"Mrs. Weasley," she greeted as Hermione fell into step with her.

"I've never heard the name Martell before," Hermione stated.

"A shame, I'm sure," Elia said dryly.

The woman bristled slightly, and Elia quickly shook her head when she caught Narcissa's eye. The Malfoy matriarch merely narrowed her eyes before nodding in agreement, though Elia assumed she would be close.

"I heard Teddy call you mum," she said bluntly.

Oh wonderful, Elia thought. It was always so refreshing to meet someone who did not engage in the dance of words that she had been brought up in.

"You're not his mother," she continued.

"Not by birth, yes," Elia said calmly, entering the restroom. She ignored Hermione as she fixed her robes, smoothing an unseen crinkle.

"Not ever," she snapped.

Elia stilled in surprise at the audacity of her, locking eyes with the young woman through the mirror.

"Mrs. Weasley," she started slowly, eyes impassive. "I do not see how my relationship with Teddy concerns you."

"He has a mother," she bit out, mouth snapping shut in stubbornness.

"And a father," Elia drawled, turning to face her.

Hermione Granger was a pretty woman, with delicate features, but Elia knew she was also one to stick to her ideals fairly tightly. Unfortunately for her, she picked a topic Elia was more than willing to argue.

"Harry is very much Teddy's father, and though he had a mother, I happen to be the one he considers such."

"Yes, until he decides it's time for you to leave," she retorted, stunning Elia with her words. "Lord Potter-Black has very different standards now."

"Is that what you take issue with?" Elia countered, angry at her willingness to say such. "That Herakles took control of his inheritance? That he no longer relies solely on your advice? That he decided the best thing for himself and his godson would be to adopt the child fully?"

"He stole his identity," Hermione scoffed. "And he lost himself in the process, cavorting with those Blacks. Remus and Tonks did not die so their son could be considered someone else's."

"They died so their son could live a full life with the godfather they chose," Elia snapped. "Just as Lily and James Potter died so their son may live." Elia felt her anger recede, staring at the younger woman with pity. "No, he found his family. That you would begrudge him that because of whom he chose is a failing on your part, Mrs. Weasley. He was not a child to be scolded for making decisions regarding his life – decisions his parents wholeheartedly supported – nor does he have to tell you every thought that crosses his mind."

There was something like resentful uncertainty flashing in Hermione Granger's brown eyes, but Elia was unwilling to wait a moment longer. She had said her piece, and Elia made her way to the empty grounds, a slight chill in the air.

Not his mother, she thought darkly.

But…the woman hadn't lied. Much as Elia adored Teddy, she was not his mother; would only be considered such until it was time for them to return to Westeros.

Closing her eyes, she thought of the last years of her life.

Potter Hall was comfortable; it was warmth and safety and the missing feel of home. Much as she had been homesick those early days, the thought of leaving Teddy behind tore her heart in two. And Harry…

Harry Potter was a singularly infuriating man; able to worm his way beneath the walls Elia had erected to protect herself as if they were made of cotton. At some point, between his adoration of her children and the easy friendship they had built, between the late nights in the library and their days playing the game with the Wizengamot, Elia had been unable to imagine the future without the green-eyed man. She had steadily fallen in love with him, even when she knew it was the last thing she had needed.

The gods have cursed me to find love when it is impossible, she thought ruefully.

She had not loved Rhaegar, nor had he loved her. Theirs had been a comfortable partnership, before it had burned into ash.

That Harry felt something for her was not in question; Elia had seen the way he looked at her, saw the hesitant adoration in his gaze, as they both knew it could not possibly last. She would be forced to pick between returning, or staying and building a life here with the family she had forged.