January 8, 1982

Longmoore Street, London

Very, very early in the morning

Alphard Black was a notoriously light sleeper. A dedicated mind healer might suggest that this was the result of a traumatic childhood spent with Walburga and Cygnus, but Alphard rather smugly accredited it to his 'stellar reflexes'.

(There had been more than one occasion when his Quodpot teammates were horribly disappointed at the failure of their planned pranks due to Alphard's uncanny ability to become immediately alert if someone so much as breathed in his direction.)

Whether it was Alphard's deeply ingrained fear of his vicious siblings or his stellar reflexes that alerted him to a presence in his bedroom at half past two in the morning was hard to say, but the result was the same regardless: Alphard sat straight up in bed as if on a coiled spring, wand in hand and pointed in the direction of a very small creature.

A very small creature, indeed.

"Mistress' nephew is being very jumpy. He is also having very pathetic wards." The house elf's condescending whisper was surprisingly familiar, and after a brief moment of bleary confusion Alphard realized why.

"Pillow? Pincushion? Pipsqueak? What are you doing here at this hour?"

"Pip is very certain that her mistress' nephew is not calling her Pipsqueak."

There was a sudden pop! Near Alphard's ear and his own house elf was standing on his pillow with a cast iron skillet in hand. "Master, we is having a very rude visitor."

Bemused, Alphard nodded warily. "Oh?"

Quod nodded sharply, teeth bared at their visitor. "She is claiming all sorts of ridiculous things Master- she is even saying she is the Supreme Leader!"

Feeling very much like he might still be dreaming (a fever dream, perhaps), Alphard snorted. "Well thats a new one."

"As her mistress' head of staff, Pip is your Supreme Leader, you naughty elf!"

"Quod isn't serving House Black, only Master!"

"Er- about that. Technically, my family magic was pretty heavily involved in our bond," Alphard rubbed the top of his head sheepishly.

"MASTER!"

Pip smiled smugly. "Pip was trying to tell you so."

"It's quite a lot of magical power to create a new bond, you see, and we had a game the next day, so I didn't want to be totally drained…."

"MASTER ALPHARD BLACK!"

"Sorry, Quod, really- I can ask my aunt if it can be made right. I never even considered it when we moved back to this side of the pond. But, Pincu- Pip. Pip, it isn't polite to order around other people's elves, even if they are family."

Pip did a rather impressive little summersault up onto the bed and crossed her arms. "Pip is having messages for her mistress' nephew and his elf. Will you be remembering everything if I give them to you right now?"

Alphard nodded, still a bit abashed by the absolutely censuring look that his house elf was levelling at him. (It promised some form of retribution, and Quod was entirely too crafty for Alphard to feel comfortable with that.)

"Missy Cassiopeia's nephew should make plans to distract the guards when he is feeling our signal tomorrow. They must not know that you and Sirius Black are being called to a full family council. You is having a full hour from the signal to prepare."

"Distract the guards?"

"Yes."

"The guards from Azkaban?"

"Certainly."

Alphard grinned. "Quite the lark, that. And I don't suppose she left a single suggestion for how to do it."

"Pip is suggesting you is poisoning them, but her Mistress might not like it."

Merlin I hope that was a joke. "What time should I expect the signal?"

"If there was being a time, Missy Cassiopeia wouldn't have to give you a signal, would she? However-," the elf whipped a thick day book from an unseen pocket, "Pip is planning for her Mistress to call council during afternoon tea."

(A nagging voice in his head-another point of survival left over from his time living with Walburga and Cygnus- thought to question the safety of taking tea prepared by an elf who so calmly mentioned poison. Fortunately, the Blacks did have actual (necessary) rules in place about where one could acceptably poison a family member, and in the middle of a council was definitely not on the approved list.)

"And the other message?"

"Is being for your poor elf," Pip said firmly, and- wow, her tune towards Quod changed awfully quickly didn't it?

Quod looked skeptically at the other elf as if equally suspicious of the creature who had called him naughty only moments prior.

"Pip is telling Quod that he must manage his wizard better, because there is repercussions for naughty boys who don't send progress reports to their Head of House on time." Pip's hands settled firmly on her hips and her nose rose two more inches in the air. "And while Pip is talking about repercussions for naughty nephews, she will tell Quod about how being a family elf is better when your Master is making you angry."

Entirely too intrigued for Alphard's personal comfort (or perhaps safety would be the correct word?), Quod lowered his frying pan. "Oh? Quod was never planning to be an old family house elf. The United States doesn't take kindly to the old families, after all."

"Don't worry- Pip is showing you everything you need to know. Your Supreme Leader is helping you take care of everything."

Alphard gulped.

January 8, 1982

Chateau Black, France

Morning tea time

Helen Granger and Elvira Zabini had very little in common. Raised in completely isolated worlds and imparted with wildly different values, the pair would never have come into contact at all if not for Cassiopeia's interference in their lives.

However, there was at least one thing they could agree on.

"I hardly think it's appropriate for a house elf to be given permission to set the children in time out." Narcissa Malfoy's eyebrows jumped into her hairline as she peered down her nose at the shaky house elf who had been called from the main estate to watch the children while their mother's took tea.

Helen and Elvira shared a single long suffering look before Helen, taking a fortifying breath, finally responded. "The old families have relied on house elves for years, Narcissa."

"I know you're French, dear, and that your family's traditions may be different, but you must understand that in England such things are simply not done."

Helen, who was decidedly not French and who was quite uncertain why on Earth Narcissa would think so, declined to correct the other woman. (Perhaps this was all a part of Cassiopeia's odd, secretive plans.)

"Cissy, we were raised by elf nannies." And thank Morganna for Andromeda, who had agreed to come to tea with equal parts amusement and exasperation- she knew full well why Elvira Zabini would have deigned to send her a personal invitation.

"The Malfoy's have a different approach."

"Oh, I know." Andromeda sent her younger sister a censoring look, which seemed to say 'Do you really want to get into a full blown duel over discipline and the lack of it in your household in front of these people, because I am more than happy to do so if I must'.

Cheeks pink, Narcissa backed down from the issue and waved a hand breezily. "I suppose five minutes on a step will be fine if Draco actually did kick Nymphadora. Do tell him that I won't tolerate crass physical violence- that's a horribly muggle behavior to indulge in."

The house elf popped away, and Elvira and Helen shared a brief look of exasperated relief.

"I wanted to see how you'd all feel about a different sort of play date next time," Andromeda said, intentionally oblivious to her sister's pout and the clear irritation of the other women in the room. "There's a special on the evolution of wands in the Magical Children's Museum in London next week that Dora would absolutely enjoy, and I thought you lot might appreciate it as well."

Elvira frowned. "I don't think I've seen any of their programming- is it more educational or theatrical?"

"A nice mix, in my opinion. Ted and I have tried to take Dora at least once a month or so since she was about your childrens' age- they have a variety of different exhibits that are constantly changing. It's certainly a better introduction to wizarding history than the one she'll get at Hogwarts."

"I thought Hogwarts was the premier institution of the nation- do they not teach history?" Helen asked, surprised. "My schools have always placed an emphasis on the importance of knowing history so that one isn't doomed to repeat it."

Narcissa let out a decidedly unladylike snort. "Oh, Hogwarts does have a history class- but it's taught by a ghost who only remembers the goblin wars."

"Binns can't even provide an accurate overview of the goblin wars," Elvira sighed. "Complete waste of time, and its embarrassing how he never once mentions the rest of the world's magical history." Turning very intentionally to Helen: "It is one reason that the muggleborns are so behind, and stand out in our world."

Helen hummed in acknowledgement.

"Regardless, the wand exhibit should make for a fun day. If we catch the morning showing, we'll have time for tea before naptime."

("If naptime still existed," Elvira murmured into her teacup. Her father was the only one who could coax her highly observant child into closing his eyes.)

"I'll have to check with Daniel and send you an owl to confirm, but otherwise I'd be interested." In actuality, Helen would not only have to confirm that Daniel was willing to cover her scheduled patients but also with Cassiopeia, who had warned her that it would be quite tricky to pass as maybe-probably-a-witch in certain wizarding locations.

With a perfectly wicked smile, Elvira nodded. "Blaise would likely enjoy it if Hermione does- if nothing else, he does enjoy their play dates."

Frowning heavily at the suggestion that her own child had been left out of several arranged play dates, Narcissa tapped her fingers across the table before reaching for a tea sandwich. "We'll join as well. An educational field trip is always a joy- speaking of, have any of you had a chance to look at the book list I sent last week?"

Helen brightened perceptibly. "I did! Actually, I asked Pip to procure them for me immediately, and have made it half through. I was actually quite astounded by how late most of the authors you suggested recommended introducing mathematics."

"Math is of secondary importance compared to language," Elvira countered. "After all, languages are the root of the spells we use everyday, and knowing multiple opens doors to other nations."

(The education of their children had quickly become the absolute safest- and, frankly, most enjoyable- of the topics that the four women could discuss during these carefully planned play dates which were (according to Isla and Cassiopeia) vital to the long term success of House Black.)

Andromeda shook her head thoughtfully, thinking of the muggle math classes her own child had attended- they had been extraordinarily useful already. "Perhaps, but consider the importance of math in arithmancy, in potions, or even runes- not to mention daily life. Being able to count money, for instance, is an immediately necessary skill."

Narcissa, quite certain of herself: "Not when you have a reliable banker."

"But how will you know if your banker is reliable if you can't check their math to keep them honest? They might be-,"

A sharp pop! interrupted Helen's defense of one of her own favorite subjects, and the four mothers turned to see Pip standing in the doorway of the conservatory with a fresh pot of tea and three wax sealed envelopes on a silver tray above her head. "Missy Cassiopeia is inquiring about her guests' comfort."

(This was, of course, patently untrue, as Cassiopeia was actually in her laboratory working on a new potion for the Longbottoms and had completely forgotten that she'd offered use of her home for the playdate. But Pip was comfortable assuming that making guests think her mistress had some good manners was a part of 'taking care of everything else'.)

"Perfectly content, thank you," Helen smiled at the elf who had become one of her favorite new family members (no one else seemed to worry about safety the way she did). "Though you might pop in on the children- I asked Bing to help them build a fort in the solarium so they could take some sun, and I'm sure he doesn't want to take his eyes off of them for the amount of time it would take to assemble snacks."

Snapping her long fingers, Pip sent the teapot soaring round the table to fill each woman's cup. "Pip will be taking them more biscuits and milk at once, Missy Helen. Pip is also bringing letters from her mistress."

The three envelopes floated gently through the air and landed in front of Andromeda, Helen, and Narcissa.

"Pip is being sorry, Missy Isla's daughter, but they is being for family matters."

Elvira waved a single dismissive hand through the air, her eyes caught on the parchment in Helen's hand. A tiny smile played around her lips. "I assure you- the last thing I want is to be Called for another family's council."

January 8, 1982

Chateau Black, France

Morning tea time

Draco Malfoy, bless his boots, had very mixed feelings about play dates.

On the one hand, it was different playing with other children. At home, his mother read him soft-cornered books and his father took him for long broom rides, but there was no one to build forts or cause mischief with (Dobby was not particularly fun- he worried too much about everything).

Also, play dates so far had meant wonderful adventures. Draco had been absolutely thrilled by the Nutcracker (all of that dancing and jumping!), and even Great Aunt Cassiopeia's house was more fun than his playroom- there were dozens of hidey holes to explore and new pieces of furniture to jump off of.

On the other hand, Draco had rapidly realized that play dates meant prolonged exposure to Elves (which should not be confused with house elves, even if they did look sort of alike). Elves (always with a capital E) were terrifying creatures who corrected his manners and his posture and his attitude, always in the name of keeping him from being an embarrassment to the family. Worst of all, they withheld biscuits whenever he got fussy.

On the bright side, the Elves treated the other play date attendees exactly the same.

"Bing is being very disappointed in you children," the Elf before him lectured, "You is all needing five minutes on the naughty step and then we is going to be discussing why biting is just as bad as kicking."

Sat in a row at the bottom of the staircase leading to the solarium's second level, Draco, Blaise, and Hermione stared at Bing with confused, resigned, and irritated expressions on their (respective) young faces.

"They were only playing," Nymphandora offered from across the room where she was carefully reconstructing the recently demolished play fort.

"Bing is not thinking that playing storm the castle looks very fun when all of the soldiers fight one another."

Nymphadora giggled and ducked under a wall of pillows when the younger children glared in her direction.

"What is going on here?"

Draco froze on the step.

"Bing is putting the little childrens in time out for not playing nicely," the Elf said, shaking his finger at the trio on the steps once more before turning to the new arrival.

"Pip is thinking they is needing snacks. But if they is not being good, Pip cannot bring them any special biscuits."

Turning slowly, Draco's silver eyes widened when he recognized the Supreme Leader. He hadn't seen this most terrifying Elf since they went to the Nutcracker, but the impression she had left was clearly a strong one.

"Biscuits!" Hermione squealed, "Biscuits Pip! Biscuits!"

"Wait, I can have the special biscuits, right?" Nymphadora's face reappeared from inside the fort. "I was being good!"

The Supreme Leader shook her head. "Pip is thinking that it is all or none of you getting special biscuits."

"Biscuits!" Hermione repeated. "Biscuits please!"

Draco marveled at her nerve.

"Well, maybe if you all promise to be good for Bing for the rest of the morning," the Supreme Leader offered, squinting her oversized eyes at them.

"Yes, ma'am," Blaise offered quickly.

"Pllleeeaaassseee Pip?" Hermione wheedled. "I'll be good!"

The Supreme Leader frowned, and fixed her gaze on Draco. "And you young man?"

Draco squeaked. "Supreme Leader!"

Pip stood up straight and smiled broadly. "Special biscuits for everyone it is then."

January 8, 1982

Granger Corporation, London

Late afternoon

Marius Granger was right in the middle of trying to decide which of two research projects deserved improved funding when his twin sister- quite literally- came flying out of his fireplace.

"Cass, I do have a secretary. A secretary who is going to be very confused as to how you got in here," Marius sighed as he watched Cass brush Floo dust off her sleeves. She had at least thought to wear muggle clothing (and Marius needed to remember to ask her where she had gotten the heavily padded rose blazer, as Agnes would love the cut), but the thought of his secretary asking questions made him a bit anxious.

"Bonjour to you too little brother. Don't worry, I won't be here long."

Marius eyed her warily, then sighed as he gestured for her to take a seat in one of his high backed guest chairs. "I'm not even a minute younger than you, as you well know."

Cass waved a hand airily. "Facts are facts, Marius, don't argue. I'm here to ask for a favor."

"Of course you are."

"Tomorrow I will be calling a full family council to discuss the intentional abuse of Dorea's grandson."

Marius' eyes widened. "Dorea's grandson?"

"Yes, our sister Dorea."

"Dorea's grandson Harry Potter?"

"Really, Marius. I know you get the paper now, and the child's name is all over it- do please try to keep up."

"I thought he was somewhere safe!"

"He is now." Cassiopeia frowned. "Say, you don't happen to have biscuits do you?" When her brother nodded and silently reached into his desk for a tin, she continued. "You'll learn the details tomorrow, but for now, suffice to say that Albus Dumbledore assumed magical guardianship of the boy and placed him with a rather unsavory muggle family. I have Arcturus and his wife looking into it."

"Why on earth would you ask them to investigate a muggle family?"

Cassiopeia shrugged. "I don't particularly like Arcturus, but he is family. I thought he deserved a chance to prove his loyalties."

Marius was unconvinced. "Surely there are better ways than setting him on-,"

"He was told to be discrete- and Melania will keep him in check. She, at least, is quite bright. And for all his flaws, Arcturus was a forensic investigator during the war. The only other person I would have trusted the job to was Pollux, and I think he'd faint if I sent him on a mission." Cassiopeia looked a bit troubled. "He desperately needs a project."

Snorting, Marius took one of the biscuits from the tin for himself. "Don't look at me- we barely get on. And frankly, I think he's terrified that I'm contagious."

"We probably should have never let him marry that horrible woman," Cassiopeia agreed with a sigh, then tossed her head as if to shake her worries away. "But back to the situation at hand- tomorrow, family council, Dorea's grandson, our plan. Your favor."

"Do you remember the last time you needed a favor and it was to borrow my entire family?" Marius asked pleasantly. "Me, too."

Cassiopeia silenced him with a look. "I need you to make sure that Helen and Daniel won't be caught out- I'll be controlling the wards, but they'll need a full education on the call and responses, the customs… the works."

"And you can't handle it? You're a better teacher than I am, Cass- and its been several decades since I've participated in a council."

"I actually can't. I'm working on a time sensitive potion for the Longbottom's, and I need it ready for Andromeda to test before the meeting tomorrow if we're to stay on Pip's ridiculously rigid timetable." Cassiopeia grinned. "That means I have to leave it in your hopefully capable hands."

Marius sighed. "Tell me why Daniel and Helen seeming magical for now is so important to you?"

Standing, Cassiopeia snagged a handful of biscuits from the tin before striding back to the fireplace and grabbing a second handful of Floo Powder. "The issues with Pollux's family and Dorea's grandson won't last forever. Phase two of my plan to restore our family is going to require a little bit of cunning. But I'll let you figure out what that means for yourself. Consider it another project. Chateau Black!"

"Cass!"

A solid knock on the door made Marius jump, and he turned to see his bewildered secretary Komal's face. "Mr. Black, why on earth are you screeching?"

"Thought I saw a… mouse?"

Komal gave him her patented I-am-definitely-calling-your-wife look and sniffed. "I'll bring you tea."