Disclaimers: Dark themes, police state ideas, mention of spousal abuse (including rape) on and off-screen, death of minor characters, graphic imagery and violence, frank sex discussion, copious bad language, villainising the Weasleys and Dumbledore, liberties taken with mythical history and the HP real-life timeline.

As sadistic revenge fantasies went, this was one reckoning that had been in the works for a long time.

For about twenty-two years ago, on a balmy October afternoon almost to the day, Alice Longbottom had been preparing her Auror Uniform ready for work. Frank was still out following a night patrol somewhere, and baby Neville had been placed with Frank's Mum, Augusta, so that Alice could get a few hours sleep before she went on her own evening watch somewhere around the town in which they lived.

But something wasn't right. Alice couldn't put her finger on what it was, maybe it was the tautness of the air or the tightness of her nerves making her imagine things, but she was tingly with a sense of foreboding. And it wasn't the normal one, either. She had been fighting in this war against Voldemort almost since the beginning, since first being recruited to the Auror Corps direct from Hogwarts nearly ten years previously. The war had only been a year old then … and neither Alice nor Frank ever imagined it would still be going on over a decade later.

That's why they'd delayed in their life, not only on getting married but in deciding to start a family, too. Frank was a couple of years younger than Alice … dashing, courageous, filled with the sort of bravery that would flutter even the stoniest Slytherin girl's heart. And he was a Hufflepuff, too, but with the daring spirit of the doughtiest Gryffindor.

Alice had been taken with Frank right away, from the first time she saw him perform an acrobatic Snitch catch during a Hufflepuff versus Slytherin Quidditch game in her last year at Hogwarts. He had a carefree flop of tawny hair, a chiselled jaw, and a nose so bulbous it earned him the nickname 'Frank the Conk'. But he took it all in good humour, revelled in the mirth and always volunteered to be Rudolph in the Christmas festivities at school.

It was this playfulness that really attracted Alice Morgan to him. He wasn't as studious as the boys who fancied her from Ravenclaw, nor as stoic as Slytherin boys with their haughty sneers. And he was younger too, which shouldn't have made things awkward, only it did. Getting attention from the imperious Slytherin Head Girl wouldn't have made the life of this Hufflepuff hero very pleasant, so Alice kept her distance, watched from afar and dreamt of what might have been.

Then, two years after graduating Hogwarts, Alice was personally responsible for recruiting the now eighteen-year-old Frank Longbottom into the Auror Corps, as her personal apprentice. Taking trainees was the final part of the development pathway for all junior Aurors … though within six months Alice was taking Frank in a far different way, one that certainly wasn't covered in the training handbooks.

Needless to say, Frank Longbottom passed his Induction Period with all sorts of merits and distinctions.

Two years later and Alice swapped her surname from Morgan to Longbottom as she and Frank married, but every year after that … for four years … they put off having a baby, even though they both keenly wanted one. Voldemort was on the cusp of seizing power, the world was far too dangerous to bring life into it, maybe next year things would be different …

Then came the fateful visit from Albus Dumbledore.

"A prophecy has been made, predicting the downfall of Lord Voldemort," the Chief Mugwhump had told them. "A child will be born within this calendar year, one possessing the curious ability to defeat our great enemy."

"How?" Frank had asked, keenly. "How can a baby defeat a wizard of such awesome power?"

"Oh, my dear Frank, I do not believe for a moment that the baby will defeat him," Dumbledore had chuckled, lightly. "But the child will be particularly gifted … and Voldemort himself will somehow make him into his equal. In some capacity, this will be the very act that seals his own doom, though the hour of this defeat can not even be guessed at just now.

"But after precious little to celebrate for nine years, I am telling this to members of the Order of the Phoenix to stir morale among our beleaguered number … let us call it a Christmas present, from me to you."

And Frank and Alice had been so excited by the news that they celebrated later that night by making passionate love … without even stopping to take their contraceptive potions.

Eight months later, at the end of July, Neville Longbottom entered the world.

Alice became great friends during her maternity period with a younger witch, called Lily Potter. Barely twenty years old, but lately married and with a baby due within a week of Alice's own, they bonded closely. They were constant partners during their breathing classes, shopped for baby clothes together and even held a joint baby shower when they were both almost ready to drop.

By that point, of course, they both knew that their sons were marked for death.

Alice had never intentionally made a child to fulfil part the terms of the prophecy that Dumbledore had heard, but by the time she realised that she was pregnant it just felt right to her and Frank, so they decided to go ahead and face the dangers. It simply made them even more determined to keep up the struggle for freedom.

And within a few months it seemed that their son wouldn't be the boy of the prophecy anyway. Frank's Uncle, Algie, kept trying to coax accidental magic out of the baby … placing pinches of pepper under his nose to see if he would sneeze sparks, placing enchanted teddies in his cot, that were spelled to react to magic and hug the infant, that sort of thing.

But nothing worked. For the longest time, Alice and Frank wondered if their son had been born a Squib. Maybe the stress of the world at the time of his conception had somehow affected his magical development. Alice honestly didn't know enough about it to make a guess. But it seemed less and less likely that the boy of the prophecy would be him. In any case, Alice and Frank had only defied Voldemort twice, they didn't fulfil the terms of the prophecy themselves.

Until that late afternoon in mid-October, when Alice heard a knock at the door and put her Auror Uniform aside. Critically, she left her wand in it's quick-draw holster next to her scarlet and gold robe … and cruelly out of her reach ...

To say that Alice was surprised by her visitor was an understatement. Of all the people she might have expected to see at her front door, her former Hogwarts best friend would have been way down the list. Alice hadn't heard from her in years, and had only ever come across snatched rumours about what had become of her. Whatever she had been up to, she hadn't aged well at all.

"Well, I never!" Alice exclaimed as she answered her door. "Bella Black! Isn't this a surprise."

"More than you can possibly know," Bella had sneered as she barged her way into the house flanked by three hefty and masked Death Eaters. "Oh, and by the way … it's Lestrange these days, Ally."

"Lestrange? But he's a Death Eater!"

"Yes ... and so am I. Crucio!"

Hence followed seven hours of such appalling torture that it defied description. Bellatrix kept her old friend cogent enough to feel every slice, every cut, every penetration of the Cruciatus Curse to the very marrow of her bones … demanding every half an hour that Alice give up her son to the mercy of Lord Voldemort and swear fealty to him. But she didn't break, despite the agony and torment pushing her mind to the limits of its endurance.

It was only when Bella showed her the horribly mangled, seemingly dead body of her dear husband that she finally cracked. He, too, had refused to give Neville up, defying Voldemort for a third time ... and thus was how the Longbottoms came to fulfil those terms of the prophecy. Then the Death Eaters simply beat Frank into physical submission, as a way to try and break Alice. Her last words of sanity, as she watched her beloved's broken body being smashed yet further, had been the anguished screams of Frank! Frank! …

"Frank? Frank?" Alice repeated now, holding her husband's wand arm to stop him casting a decisive spell. She was finding it almost impossible to get through to him. "Not now, it isn't the time … Harry needs her alive."

"He can use someone else," Frank growled, struggling to break free and launch himself again at Bellatrix, who was strapped to a chair and semi-conscious before him. A trickle of something dark was oozing from the corner of her swelling lips.

"He's chosen to use her," Alice stabbed back gruffly, pushing her hands into Frank's chest to hold him at bay. "And it would be fitting, too. His most devout servant, his very chief concubine … made into the means by which Tom Riddle's soul is finally banished from this mortal plain. It has to be this way. We've done enough … my thirst for vengeance is sated."

Alice looked down at her old friend as her head lolled onto her chest. Bellatrix's wild hair was matted with sweat and flecks of blood, both eyes puffy and swollen, as were her lips, the net result of Bludgeoning Hexes that Frank and Alice cast in sequence, one facing her from the left the other from the right.

They hadn't lain a finger on her, it was all spellwork. Neither wanted the taint of this evil witch on their flesh … but Frank had the scent for blood now.

"Yours may be, but mine isn't," Frank hissed. "She took us from our son for twenty years of his life, Ally! She tried to deny him parents at all, would have made us martyrs to the cause, just like Lily and James, if Dumbledore hadn't arrived before she could finish us off. We missed our beautiful boy growing up … missed his first day at Hogwarts, birthdays, Christmases … everything, Alice! I can never give her enough pain to make up for that!"

"Or to bring those times back," Alice pointed out gently, stepping in close and taking her husband's boiling face in her hands. "We lost our past with Neville to Bellatrix Lestrange … let us not lose our future to her, too. She will make our future, and that's how we get revenge ... by joyously living it in spite of her. Let it go, Frankie. Let all your hatred go."

Frank took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. His fury was unlike anything Alice had ever known in him. She knew he wasn't just angry for his own torture, or for what they lost with Neville, but for the damage Bellatrix had done to her, too. Frank had never seen his wife's broken body after the assault, having lost his mind, too … but in some ways, the imagining of it was worse.

"She has to die, Ally … she deserves to."

"And she will," Hermione promised, from her seat in the dark room behind them. She had been tortured by this hated woman, herself, and wanted the catharsis of watching her suffer in return, even if she didn't think that it was right to get involved herself. The Longbottoms were owed this in her opinion. "But let us, Harry or I, take the burden of the final kill from you. We aren't going to let any of these bastards get away with what they've done, so one more death wont make any difference to either of us."

"What are you going to do? Round them up and put them on trial?" Frank asked, bitterly. "Let them plead innocence and stupidity and go back to their lives just like before?"

Hermione spat at the notion. "Well Harry did joke about using our vast wealth to bribe the worthless Death Eaters and genocidal maniacs over to our side and, before I was abused to hell by one of them during their dominion, I was something of a pacifist. I might have considered bringing them all together and helping them get in touch with their inner turmoil, through art therapy and community work and street theatre, where we could all have discussed how sorry all they were as we sang songs around a campfire and ate candy floss and popcorn and became jolly good friends. I would have given the project a catchy name, like the Campaign for the Liberation and Integration of Death Eaters and their Rehabilitation Into Society, or something.

"The only problem with that would be that the abbreviation would be C.L.I.D.E.R.I.S … and that almost makes me sound like a bit of a pussy. Which I'm not.

"So no, Frank, there will be no due process in our revenge programme. We may host small, on the spot trials, but the bottom line is this … if we see a Dark Mark, we kill the wizard bearing it. Some may call it frontier justice … but Muggleborn genocide is where we draw the line, and the frontier beyond is where we will be the law."

Alice grinned darkly. "I think that told us!"

"I hope it did, because we need good people to rebuild this world when we are finished," Hermione added grimly. "Harry and I may not be suitable role models, you know. We will have touched our own dark sides, become almost as bad as our enemy to rid the world of them, making the worst of sacrifices so that other good people don't have to. But that will be our cross to bear … and we will bear it gladly.

"But you will be the real revolution … poster children for endurance against the darkness. You both suffered, and your son lost you from his youth as a result … but your victory will be complete when you look to a wonderful future together, defying all the Dark Machinations you faced and overcame.

"So lower your wand, Frank, and listen to Alice … don't give your soul to this heinous excuse for a human .. she might try and steal it, to replace the one she never had."

Frank looked at Hermione, swallowed hard and ruefully, then eased his wand arm down.

"Good, Frankie, good," Alice soothed. Then she turned to Hermione. "So what will you do with her?"

"Luna is creating her brimstone as we speak, in order to provide material to build the Veil Arch, but the slate has to burn for another thirty-two days yet," Hermione replied. "No-Tricks-Bella, here, wont enjoy a single one of them. Harry wants to interrogate her, himself … to find out how she broke into little Celesca's mind with Ginny and Draco, and somehow come up with a way to put a stop to it. However he does it, I cant imagine it will be a pleasant experience for this very-Le-strange old hag."

Frank guffawed at that. "And once the Veil Arch is ready … she dies?"

Hermione nodded. "Her death will provide the energy release to break the barriers between realms. The runic enchantments used will latch onto her very soul as it crosses over … then other spells will make sure the gateway doesn't close until we allow it to. Don't ask me any more than that, for even I don't fully understand it."

"That's a perfectly acceptable payback for us," Alice nodded, firmly. "As you said, our future is with Nev and Enola and baby Alison … we've given enough of our lives to this pathetic wretch."

"But what about the other future?" Frank asked. "What about her daughter?"

Bellatrix managed to raise her broken head at that, an angry snarl forming painfully on her smashed lips. Hermione grinned sweetly at her.

"Oh, you might want to listen to this, Bella, I think you'll approve of my plan," Hermione went on, conversationally. "I think I'm going to adopt her. Harry and I are going to treat her like the beautiful girl she is, we'll teach her and help her grow, shower her with as much love and affection as we can muster, as if she were our own child. She's still young enough to not be totally lost to society yet. We are going to bring her around to being good … show her that she needn't be Dark like her mother, not when her new Mummy is everything good and Light. That's me, by the way, Hells Bells … and I want little Delphie to call me Mummy before we take your pitiful life. I want you to have the pleasure of hearing it."

Bella groaned and cursed as best she could, but Hermione just smirked at her as she stalked forwards and dropped into a crouching position at her side.

"I know you didn't get a chance to ask when you arrived, Bella, but I'm happy to tell you what spell I hit Delphini with, to summon you and your hopeless guards to us," Hermione went on chattily, gesturing to the two bodies slumped off to one side of the room. Myfanwy had dispatched them both in a single wand movement. "I thought about a subduing spell … like Stupefy or Immobulus … because she's quite a defiant little thing. But in the end I went for a softer approach … and I actually used magic to braid that long hair of hers. She seemed to like that, and was quite delighted with the way it looked. I'll put a nice little bow in it later, see if I cant make it up even prettier."

Bella tried to spit at Hermione, but the saliva simply dribbled out of her numb lips and down her chin, which was shaking in her fury.

"I think it's time for you to go nap-nap," Hermione taunted in baby language. She drew her wand. "Nighty-nighty, Bellakins. Stupefy."

A flash of red sped from Hermione's wand and hit Bellatrix square between the eyes, Stunning her into unconsciousness.

"What now?" Alice asked. "Stupefy wont hold her forever."

"We'll get her back to the Palace, see if Cassie has any long-term sleeping Potions handy," Hermione replied. "If not, I'll look up the recipe for the Draught of Living Death … that should keep her quiet until we have need of her again. It will also nullify most of her brainwave activity, meaning she wont be able to harm Celesca while she's out."

Alice nodded approvingly, and the three of them began leaving the room. "So … is that true what you said? About adopting Delphini?"

Hermione tautened a little at that. "To be honest, I just made all that up on the spot. Well, all except the hair-braiding bit, that much was true, at least. I thought it was the thing that would irritate Bella the most. But now I've said it, I might actually follow through with it. Maybe it's what Harry needs, to heal his hatred … by showing love and mercy to the unfortunate offspring of his greatest enemy."

"You've not mentioned this at all to him then?"

"No, not at all," Hermione replied. "But it might flow nicely into the real conversation I have to have with him … about the other girl I brought with me."

"Yeah, I meant to ask about that," Frank cut in, as he handed Myfanwy the key to the room that was doubling up as a temporary cell for Bellatrix Lestrange. "Who is she? Why did you bring her?"

"I heard her name mentioned by the people I came across at the Academy," Hermione explained. "They didn't give me her first name … and she still hasn't found the courage to tell me it … but her surname is Dursley."

Alice gasped in shock. "Dursley … but isn't that the name of Harry's Muggle relatives?"

"The same," Hermione nodded. "They were talking abstractly about how she was Muggleborn and especially talented, and so I didn't think it was a coincidence. I couldn't leave her there once that thought was in my head."

"Harry had a cousin, didn't he?" Frank mused. "Do you think the kid is his?"

"I do," Hermione confirmed. "Magic often skips generations. Lily Potter was magical but her sister was not, though Harry has told me absolutely nothing about his maternal grandparents or even further back. I always found it suspicious that he never mentioned them … it's like he never even met them.

"But they weren't just his mother's parents … they were obviously his aunt's, too. We know Lily was a Muggleborn, from the historical records, so her parents must have been Muggles. But were they? What if they were actually Magicals, and for some reason were pretending not to be or even actively avoiding their heritage? Or what if Lily's grandparents were Magicals, and they children born Squibs? We also assume that the Dursleys weren't a Magical family, but Harry's uncle knew about magic and was accepting of it, even if he despised it. Did he get all his knowledge from Petunia, and why would she tell him if that's true?"

"It would violate the International Statute of Secrecy if nothing else," Alice mused. "Didn't Harry once fall foul of that law after defending his cousin from a Dementor attack?"

"He did, but never once did his earlier bouts of accidental magic bring the authorities down on him," Hermione continued. "We can only draw the conclusion that there wasn't as much Magical ignorance in the Dursley family as the story would have us believe. I think that Harry never met his maternal grandparents because they were a witch and a wizard … and that Dudley Dursley was prohibited from seeing them for the same reason."

"And now magic has flourished in his loins and he's had a witch for a daughter … maybe he even got a witch pregnant, without knowing what she was," Frank considered in amazement. "It's curious how magic often seeks itself out in others like that sometimes … and many Magicals have hidden their true natures, to escape the tyranny our society is currently living under. Wow. How will Harry react to all this, do you think? I know he has no love for that branch of his family."

"I truly don't know," Hermione grimaced, anxiously. "But it's not too dissimilar to the Delphini situation … if Harry can look past his hatred for the Dursleys and take the one little girl in, maybe he can do the same for the other. I'm hoping so … but Harry's hatred for both those aspects of his life is so violent that I'm genuinely not sure what he'll decide to do."

"I don't envy you, Hermione," Frank sighed heavily. "I know Harry loves you dearly … but this may be the biggest stretch you've ever deigned to put on that."

Harry flopped down into one of the low armchairs of his private living area, but he felt more like he'd been pushed into it. Hermione's declaration had hit him like a Bludger infused with the highest powered Stunner ever cast in the history of magic. It took several breaths and a good deal of head-scratching to truly assimilate the disclosure.

"Dudley had a daughter?" Harry breathed out in shock. "And she's a witch?"

Hermione, sat with her legs curled under her as she clutched at Harry's knees, nodded her head. "I'm almost completely certain. She hasn't spoken to confirm it yet, but I'm sure she will when she does. Or I could just ask Celesca to check for me."

Harry rubbed his chin and tried to calm himself. "You found Dudley's daughter … and you brought her here? I'm honestly not sure what I think about that."

Hermione squared up her jaw. "I couldn't leave her there. They were beating her, Harry."

"They probably beat all of them, Hermione! That's just what these sick bastards do," Harry bristled. "But, then again, she is a Dursley … maybe she deserved it."

"You don't mean that," Hermione replied, quietly. "I know you don't."

"Don't I? You've been in my mind, you know what they did to me. Or, at least, you know enough."

"What happened to you as a child was horrendous, but this little girl didn't do any of those things, she's not responsible for the actions of others. She doesn't deserve your scorn and censure."

"Then what does she deserve?"

"Your mercy … your protection … maybe even your love, Harry."

"Pfft!" Harry scoffed. "I don't have enough love in my heart to give any to a Dursley."

"Yes, you do. I know you do," Hermione cajoled. "And you'll show as much as you have to this scared little girl, to your first cousin once removed. She is family, Harry, whether you like it or not. And I'm your wife, so I consider her to be a part of my family ... our family ... too. We have a duty of care to her now … she has no-one else to look after her. You have no idea how proud this will make me of you, Harry, if you can find it in yourself to accept this girl into our lives."

Harry huffed bitterly. "That is such an unfair bribe, and you're a callous wife for using it on me. If I agree to this, it will cost you your entire quota of pulling that card for the rest of the year, just saying."

Hermione chanced a little grin. "Then maybe I'll use up next year's allowance with my next request."

"I don't want to hear this, do I?"

"Probably not."

"Out with it then," Harry insisted, grumpily. "I intend to give you a few hours silent treatment for manipulating me so easily, and I'd like to get started on them right away."

Hermione drew in a stout breath. "When we solve the equation of Bellatrix Lestrange, we are going to be left with a remainder to carry over … Delphini. And so, I was thinking … once Bella is dead … I - I think … I think we should adopt Delphini, too."

"No, Hermione, no way!" Harry growled, vigorously shaking his head. "A Dursley daughter is one thing, but the spawn of Tom Riddle and Bella Lestrange … that's too far. I wont do it."

"Hear me out, Harry -"

"No. There's nothing you can say that will change my mind," Harry cut across, brusquely.

"Listen, listen!" Hermione implored. "If we are taking on one new daughter, it might help for her to have a sister. She is going to be lost and confused, frightened even. Having someone her own age might be a comfort to her."

"If that's the best argument you have then give me the girls right now … and I'll take them straight back to the Academy you pinched them from," Harry spat. "Plenty of girls their own age there to make them comfortable."

"Harry Potter! Listen to yourself!" Hermione cried. "You're talking like a Death Eater! I'm actually a little ashamed of you."

That halted Harry at a stroke. His latest volley of protest jammed painfully in his throat. He closed his eye to avoid the admonishing look Hermione was giving him. The guilt it stirred was borderline unbearable.

"You don't know what you're asking me, Hermione, you really don't."

"Of course I do! I know how you feel about the Dursleys and about Riddle," Hermione argued back with passion.

"No, it's more than that," Harry replied in a weighty sigh. "You're asking me to disappoint you … to let you down … because I cant do this. I just cant. No matter how much you want me to."

"You can!" Hermione disagreed, gently. "And I think you need to."

"Need to? How do you work that one out?"

"This hate you carry inside, Harry, it's like a poison to you," Hermione went on, taking Harry's hands in her own. "You're right, I have seen into your mind, I know how dark it can get in there. But you cant let it consume you forever. At some stage, you're going to have to let it go … or channel it out of you as a way to deal with it.

"The Dursleys are probably dead. Will hating their memory forever make you feel any more satisfied about that? When you kill Tom Riddle, however soon that will be, will you dedicate your life to hating his evil legacy? Will you live with more hate than anything else? That makes you no better than him … in fact, Harry, it makes you like him."

Harry shivered with another burst of guilt. "So what … I should just forgive and forget?"

"No, of course not," Hermione snapped back. "That can never happen. But you have to stop letting the darkness of it consume you so completely. I am going to be with you for the rest of your life … but I don't want to share our wonderful future with your dark past. We have a chance, Harry, to do something good out of all this bad. The Dursleys and Voldemort tried to beat you with hate .. but if you can learn to love these two children born out of those sources of evil … it might just heal your heart of two of its biggest wounds.

"So help me, Harry … help me make a little family with these two orphan girls. It might be nice, you know, to have it already established, when we go out on our next mission .. to bring them an orphan brother to add to it."

Harry closed his eye and sighed heavily. "You've thought it too, then … about Teddy Lupin?"

"Ever since I heard you thinking it," Hermione nodded, sadly. "And I've been mulling it over … and I have to agree. It makes sense that he is one of the Horcrux Protectors."

Harry hissed, as though catching an open wound on a rusty nail. Hearing his fear so blatantly spelled out like that just seemed to make the whole thing so much worse.

"I wont be able to hurt him, Hermione," Harry muttered. "Not any more than I could you. He's my Godson … I cant kill him, I just cant."

"We'll find another way, Harry, I promise," Hermione swore. "We will locate all the Protectors then bring them back here and come up with a way to undo this magic. I don't know why, but I'm convinced that this is somehow the way to do it. That … that's why I rescued the Dursley girl … it's why I had to."

Harry snapped his eye to her in astonishment. "You think the girl is a Protector?"

"I do," Hermione nodded. "I sort of, felt it, when I found her, as though Riddle's magic in me recognised the spell in her. I think we're linked, you know ... all four of us ... almost like an adapted family enchantment. We are all one with the Horcrux. It's like how you could feel Riddle's other Horcruxes, when you got close to them. If I didn't know it to be impossible, I'd think you were part of the protections, too. It would be the ultimate defence, really."

"Hmm … I see what you mean. Like I'd have to kill myself to beat it?" Harry mused. "It's a fascinating theory, Hermione, but it only happens to fit the facts. I hate the Dursleys … everyone knows that. I'd have no problem destroying them to beat Riddle's Horcrux."

"But does everyone know it, though?" Hermione asked, shrewdly. "As famous as your story is, Harry, you were never explicit about that part of it, about your early life. Even I didn't know the whole of it until I went into your mind. If you kept that from me … and I assume Ron, too … who else might be expected to know about it? Sirius and Dumbledore maybe, but both are dead. I think this may be your biggest secret, Harry."

He thought about that a moment. "So you think, I'm guessing, that Riddle might have thought I … and this is going to be hard to say … loved the Dursleys? Urgh … I feel sick just thinking it."

"Maybe you do, but he might have thought it, too," Hermione pointed out. "And it would be a reasonable assumption. He couldn't touch you at Privet Drive until you Came of Age … it's not too much of a stretch for him to think that the Dursleys were active and complicit in protecting you."

Harry had to allow that. It was logical, even if it was wildly incorrect. But it stirred an unexpected hope in him.

"Okay, if we say you're right," Harry went on. "Then I suppose he could have used the Dursleys in his Horcrux protection. But why not just use Dudley or my aunt and uncle for the spell?"

"Who knows? Maybe he thought that they might be prepared to sacrifice themselves for you. He might have assumed that Petunia was as fearless and noble as Lily, or maybe he just thought you'd hesitate when faced with a child to kill. Whatever the truth is, I think his mistake is a stroke of luck for us.

"Because, if I'm right, we have two of the four protections under our very roof right now."

"There is an easy way to find out," Harry told her. "I know what this connection you have to Riddle feels like. If I can draw it out of the girl in a ritual, just for a few minutes, then I'll know for sure. I can even come up with a spell to detect it in others if I have two sources to work with."

"Then you can apply it to Teddy, whenever we find him!" Hermione exclaimed. "And whoever the other Protector is, too … though I have no idea about who that might be, unfortunately."

"No, me neither," Harry frowned. "But having two out of three that we do know ain't bad, as a song once said. Alright, Hermione, I'll go along with this for now. We'll keep the girls, both of them, and see if we can't right their minds in time. But let's start with my cousin's kid … because if she's going to become our daughter, I'd at least like to know her name first!

"So you'd better take me to meet her."

And Harry and Hermione rose as one, to add to their family far sooner than either of them had expected.

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