Last time...

"I need a drink." He mutters to himself.

He was not expecting his goddaughter to break out into a grin, before pulling out a crystal container. They were going to have to talk about destructive behaviour or something at some point, but for now he took the proffered bottle. One drink later, and holy shite this stuff was strong! He took a moment to make sure he could even move properly, not thinking over what a colossally bad decision it was to hand her back the bottle, and watched as she took a swig like the best of them. Maybe that destructive behaviour talk might need to happen now instead of later.

"Hera, what the hell is that?" Sirius asked, as he tried to breathe without burning his throat with the air. "Merlin's froggy bollocks, that stuff was stronger than anything James and I tried to make. Where did you even get it?"

"Straight from the goat's udders." Hera deadpanned, looking at him like he was the one that had lost his mind. "Where else?"

Chapter 58

"So, are we going to talk about you casually destroying a soul container in my kitchen?" Sirius asked nonchalantly, before taking another sip of the proffered mead from one of the whiskey glasses he'd found in a hidden compartment at the table, finding that if he took small careful sips then things were fine. Somehow, they'd ended up in the living room, sharing…whatever the hell this was…while sitting at a side table near the fireplace.

"That depends." Hera replied, following it up with a sip of her own. "Are you willing to let Molly find out you're allowing underage drinking right now?"

"Resorting to blackmail already?" Sirius reposed, before cracking a grin. "I'm so proud."

"Seriously though, you're not even freaking out about this." Hera pointed out, frowning. "Why is that?"

"I should, considering that I'm technically an adult." He agreed. "Snape told us about an experimental brew he thought would help you regain the height your lack of nutrition early on stole from you. I didn't honestly think it was a literal brew. What was with the goat comment?"

"I don't follow."

"Mead goats? Really?" Sirius asked, trying to wrap his mind around this and failing. Perhaps the mead was kicking in,…or it already had.

"You keep saying that like that's not how mead is made." Hera commented in confusion. "I don't understand. Is there more than one way to make mead or is this a translation error?"

"Hera, goats don't normally…" He trails off as he sees the tell tell uptick of the corner of her mouth, the same tell that Lily had whenever she'd managed to pull one over on James and he hadn't noticed yet. "How long were you going to let me go on like that?"

"Till it stopped being amusing." She admitted, letting her amusement show more openly now.

"You look like James, I know you've heard the comparison – even act like him sometimes – but that right there?" Sirius remarked fondly. "That right there was all Lily."

"Really?" Hera asked, and her expression is so hopeful it hurts.

"Yeah." He nods, settling in. "This one time, I swear, she…"

Though Alastor Moody could safely say he had had a long and danger filled career as an auror, he'd never seen anything like Hera Potter. With his natural eye he'd seen what everyone else had, but with the magical prosthetic…It was like night and day. This was power to rival Dumbledore. This was power that could damn a world, but at the same time…it was restrained. He'd wager she'd not really grown into it yet, didn't even seem to understand just how much of it she could access now; not if she were defending the place with a magic halberd.

He'd taken the time to go over things in his head, given the responses she gave when questioned after the events of the evening, and what he knew now. That girl was godborn, he'd wager his eye on it. Given the colour of the armour, the basilisk she'd claimed as a familiar, and the wolf at her side, it wasn't hard to guess who she'd been. The only question Alastor cared about was what she would do once she realized the power she held. The Dark Lord could be defeated; but he wasn't sure she could be, if she chose to turn against them.

That was the question, wasn't it? What would she do once her powers were fully realized? Would she stand against them? Would she defend them? He didn't know. Those that spoke of her claimed she was a kind soul with a vengeful streak against those that hurt the ones she cared for. He'd read the reports on the Tri-Wizard Tournament, which included photographic evidence and testimony from students of all three schools, marking Potter's innocence in attempting to place her name in the Goblet of Fire.

When he enters Grimmauld Place, he finds Sirius cradling the sleeping girl before carrying her upstairs to where he'd set a room aside for her. Neither spoke, but from the warning look Sirius gave him, he knew why he was here. Alastor waited for the man in the kitchen, where the Order meetings were held, knowing he wouldn't have to wait long. He was more than a little surprised when Sirius walked into the kitchen with Tony Stark, Remus Lupin, and Severus Snape. His lip curled up in a sneer out of reflex at the sight of the last one, but there was something different about the man now, something he hadn't noted earlier.

"You no longer have the Dark Mark."

"Finally noticed that, did you?" Snape drawled. "Defeats that whole 'some leopards don't change their spots' argument of yours."

"I wonder if she could cure Lycanthropy." Lupin hummed.

"Given that the Mark was thought to be permanent, that nothing could remove it from the wearer, it is entirely possible." Snape supposed. "She might prefer that to be her Fifth Year project, instead of the coffee infused Invigoration Draught she'd suggested last year."

"Do you know what she is?" Alastor asked, effectively silencing the room. "Who she was?"

"How do you?" Stark questioned, which was answer enough for Alastor.

He tapped the strap that held in the eye, replying. "This isn't just an oddity."

"You're telling me that out of the whole world of magic users, not one of you could create a believable looking prosthetic that does everything that one can?" Stark asked, making him pause. "How do you go out in the non-magical world like that?"

"I don't."

"Sixth Year project?" Sirius offered, causing Stark to snort in amusement.

"I am supposed to be training her up as a Potions Master, you know." Snape pointed out.

"I thought the term was Mistress for a girl." Stark frowned.

"Yeah, you suggest that to her and see how far you get." Snape remarked dryly. "I got a thirty minute rant about Mistress sounding like someone's side piece or a Dominatrix. Either way, sex and leather were involved. The rant would have lasted longer if I hadn't cast a silencing spell and called the argument in her favor. I personally don't care what it's called, so long as she learns all she can, and that I will make sure of myself."

"Back to the matter at hand, who else knows who Potter was, what she is?" Alastor insisted, bringing the conversation back around. "That girl is godborn. You have the bloody god of Mischief growing up as a teenage girl, and none of you are concerned about the threat she presents?"

"What I know is that people are more likely to become threats if that is how you treat them." Snape reminded him, causing Alastor to frown.

He was paranoid by nature, and couldn't afford the weakness trust offered, but the idea that his own paranoia attributed to the friction and possible threats to himself was something he had not considered.

"Alastor, I'm warning you now. Back down." Sirius demanded. "Hera is…I won't risk losing her to your paranoia. I've already lost so much time with her due to my own hubris. So know this, if she becomes the next Dark Lady because you pissed her off to the point where she decides that's the best course of action, not only will I support her, I'll help her end you myself."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Alastor demanded.

"She inspires loyalty not through fear, Alastor, but through compassion." Lupin pointed out. "It's that same compassion that inspires us now, and I have to agree with Sirius. If you press this, if you treat her as a threat from the start, I'll not help you when she retaliates."

None of them have answered the question of who else knows, which tells him that it is likely only the four of them, not that he can be sure of that.

"Does Albus know?"

"No, nor will he ever if I can help it." Snape proclaimed. "He'd use her, and you know it, Alastor. Whatever his intentions are, his goal has always been for the Greater Good no matter the cost. I won't have her be the price. It may be his intention anyway, regardless that he does not know all that she is."

"Are you going to tell him?" Stark demanded, also glaring at him.

He should, he knows…

"…No."

…but he knows Albus too.

When the news came in that Hermione was one of the Slytherin Prefects, and Ron was one of the Gryffindor, Hera just smiled and congratulated them both.

"Someone has to try to keep me out of trouble." She teased fondly.

She went with Molly to do the school supply shopping not long after that, still not okay with giving authoritarian figures the reins over her finances; though she did bring Tony with her. He loved the carts at Gringotts as much as she did, and it was nice to visit with the goblins there; strange how they all bowed to her now. It was during this that Molly seemed to warm up to Tony as Hera's guardian. He didn't make the woman feel uncomfortable with flashy shows of money, though he could be as pushy as she was if he wanted. No, what warmed Molly to Tony was seeing how he fussed over Hera the way she did. He was always making sure Hera had everything, even if he had an eccentric way of going about it.

"Need to pick up something for Ron, celebrate him becoming Prefect." Molly muttered, pulling her out of her thoughts. "A new broom perhaps?"

"I gave him my Nimbus year before last when I thought Sirius was trying to buy my love when he got me the Firebolt." Hera shook her head, grinning ruefully when Molly looked scandalized. "I know better now, but Sirius and I didn't really know each other then. Maybe some gear?"

"Oh, that sounds wonderful!" Molly sighed happily. Less expensive too. "You're such a thoughtful friend, Hera dear."

"It's nice, having friends that like me for me." Hera hummed. "What do you think about a pair of Beater gloves? Weather proof, fire proof, slick resistant. Charmed for comfort and durability. Maybe a broom servicing kit? Possibly a book on flying techniques for various positions? He doesn't have any of those. He's on the Gryffindor House team now, so the gloves and kit would be more practical, but the book would prove just as useful."

"That sounds like just the ticket, especially since I'm going to have to get those cauldrons too." Molly agreed. "They're rusting through."

"Hey, Hera, didn't you say you wanted to buy Hermione a new broom for her birthday coming up?" Tony asked, looking at the latest models. Molly almost had a heart attack looking at the prices.

"Not one of those, Tony. Those are built for speed." Hera objected, seeing which ones he was looking at. "Hermione doesn't know how to ride a broom, and is a bit afraid of them. After that first lesson, I can't really blame her, but still. I want her to learn in case we're ever stuck in a situation where it's needed, like swimming. Something sturdy, safe, and reliable. She needs that for a learning broom; a comet 260, or…No way!"

There in an out of the way corner of the Quidditch shop was an Oakshaft 79. It wasn't fast, not compared to what brooms were capable of now, but Hera had done her research. This broom was both sturdy and reliable. Hermione would argue no broom was truly safe, but Hera thinks she can sway her here. Plucking it out of the pile it had carelessly been placed in, Hera made for the Shop Keeper like a woman on a mission.

"Do you know what this is?" Hera demanded passionately, glaring up at the man. "This is an Oakshaft 79, and you had it half buried under old used brooms like. it. was. garbage!"

"Hera, it doesn't look like it's worth much." Tony objected, taking a look at it. "Why are you so intense about this thing?"

"It is the Amelia Earhart of riding brooms!" She seethed, incensed, keeping her voice low enough that only Tony and the Shop Keeper could hear her. "Jocunda Sykes used one of these to perform the first ever Atlantic crossing on a broom in 1935! It's a classic!"

The Shop Keep ended up selling her the broom just to get her to stop being angry at him, along with a broom servicing kit, and a book on tips for the beginner flyer. The rest of the school shopping went smoothly, and Hera had left them for a bit to do her birthday and Christmas shopping now. Even though she could shop in Hogsmeade, it felt better to have a backup plan. When they got back, they talked like going to the station was going to be all guards all around Hera, even though the trip itself wasn't for a couple of weeks. She just pointed to her Familiars; If they couldn't handle whatever danger was coming at her, she didn't know what could.

...

The party that evening was nice, and while Fred and George teased Ron relentlessly, they stopped making fun of him after Hera gave them a warning look. Teasing was all well and good, but belittling him for his accomplishments was not, so they settled for having the most fun out of finding new ways to tease their little Ronnikins. Molly presented Ron with the gifts Hera had suggested, watching as her son blushed at the mention of the Nimbus he'd 'forgotten' to tell her he had. While Ron was trying to recover, Hera presented Hermione with the Oakshaft 79 as an early birthday present, along with the broom cleaning kit and beginners guide to flying. At hearing the history of the broom model, Hermione seemed a bit more thrilled about it, happy that it was not in fact a racing broom; though the girl did put up a bit of a protest that the wards that now protected her family were more than enough of a gift.

As Hera enjoys the party though, she can't help but pick up bits and pieces of conversation.

"…Why didn't Dumbledore make her a Prefect?"

"He'll have had his reasons." replied Remus diplomatically.

"But it would've shown confidence in her. It's what I'd've done," The other persisted. "'specially with the Daily Prophet having a go at her every few days…"

Oh, she would be talking to the goblins about employing a solicitor for her, that was for sure.

"Well, I think I'll sort out that boggart before I turn in…Arthur, I don't want this lot up too late, alright? 'Night, Hera dear." Molly remarked absentmindedly, as she left the room.

"What's that you've got there, Mad Eye?" That was Sirius, having intercepted Mad Eye about something. Wonder what that was about? Hera mused as she wandered. They'd been not so subtly keeping him from her all evening.

"Have they found Crouch yet?"

"No. They've transferred me to Fudge for now, though given the state of things, I think it's more to keep him from messing things up than an actual promotion." That was Percy, which surprised her. She hadn't thought he could make it.

Some time later, Hera tiptoed up the stairs in the hall past the elf heads, shuddering as she tried not to look at them, glad to be on her own again. As much as she enjoyed being around everyone, she found herself seeking solitude often, and wondered if that was a cause of the Dursleys isolation of her or Loki's own. She would probably always find comfort in solitude, no matter how it came about, though she loved spending time with her friends dearly. Approaching the first landing, Hera began to hear noises. Someone was sobbing in the drawing room.

Hadn't Mrs. Weasley said something about that just moments ago? Hera called out, hoping Mrs. Weasley would hear her and respond, but no answer came. Something was wrong. Climbing the remaining stairs two at a time, Hera walked swiftly across the landing and opened the drawing room door. Someone cowered against the far wall, wand in hand, her whole body shaking as she sobbed. Sprawled out on the carpet, his head twisted at a funny angle, was Ron – clearly dead.

Hera's brain stalled, and all the air left her lungs. No. Not Ron. It couldn't be…Wait…It really couldn't be. Ron was downstairs. She barely heard the Riddickulus that was cast. Suddenly seeing Ron turn into Charlie, whose body was contorted into angles only achievable through torture, pulled her out of her downward spiral.

This was a boggart, but hadn't Mrs Weasley dealt with it already?…Oh! Charlie was replaced by Bill, then Mr. Weasley with his glasses askew, Fred and George, Ginny, Percy,…Her? The dead body changed each time Mrs. Weasley cast the spell, but Hera's brain had been unable to react, caught on the fact that Mrs. Weasley viewed her as one of her own. She'd never even considered the fact that such a thing was even possible, that Mrs. Weasley would feel that way about her, no matter how the woman had treated her previously; it just hadn't computed that she would feel that way. Her feet were moving before she'd even thought about what she was going to do once she got in there.

"Riddickulus!"

Hera's body vanished, replaced by someone she had not expected to see so soon, and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

"Thought you could escape me, did you?" Thanos' voice rumbled low, filling the room with dread, and Hera was unable to move. "You may wear a different guise now, but-"

"Riddickulus!" Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out, and with a pop Thanos was a Thanos shaped floating balloon, which frankly looked silly, prompting Hera to burst into giggles.

The balloon shifted into another dead Weasley, this time Arthur, but Hera countered by causing it to shift into Arthur happily surrounded by rubber ducks, and Mrs. Weasley laughed in spit of herself. Another shift, and Hera was looking at a battle hardened Óðin getting ready to wield Gungnir. Mrs. Weasley managed to counter by causing it to shift into a muggle garden gnome while still keeping it very much looking like Óðin. Back and forth they went, each inadvertently revealing their fears to each other, until finally the boggart itself vanished with a puff of smoke. Neither knew what to say for a moment, and then the next thing she knew, she had a sobbing Mrs. Weasley in her arms.

"It's okay, Molly. It was just the boggart." Hera murmured as Mrs. Weasley sobbed. "Just a stupid boggart…"

"I see them…see you…d-d-dead, all the time!" Mrs. Weasley cried into her shoulder. "I d-d-dream about it…What must you think of me, unable to get rid of a silly boggart."

"Don't be stupid." Hera tried to smile. "You saw how I reacted to mine. Yours are…I couldn't imagine…"

"I'm just s-s-so worried," she said, tears spilling out of her eyes again. "Half the f-f-family's in the Order, it'll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this…What's going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who's g-g-going to look after Ron and Ginny? What if one of you gets hurt because of all this, or w-w-worse? I c-c-couldn't-"

"Things are already so much better than I'd imagine they were last time." Hera insisted gently. "I've read up on what I could, and it was easy to see how outnumbered the Order was then. I can't promise your children won't get hurt, but I can promise to give them every chance to be able to defend themselves, every chance to protect themselves."

"Y-y-you can do that?" Mrs. Weasley asked, and her pleading eyes were so hopeful that Hera couldn't help but want to give the woman this.

"I vow on my magic, to protect your children to the best of my ability, to prepare them to the best of my ability to be able to defend themselves and others." Hera promised, the finality of it felt throughout the room.

"Hera, you shouldn't make vows like that so frivolously." Mrs. Weasley scolded weakly.

"There's nothing frivolous about it." Hera countered. "Your son offered up his family to me. It is only right that I try and protect it as my own. You view me as one of yours. Why should I not seek to protect those that are mine?"

Hera was promptly squeezed even harder as Mrs. Weasley cried new tears along with the old.

When they'd subsided, Mrs. Weasley let go, and gave Hera the most concerned look she'd ever seen the woman wear, as she asked. "Who was that first man?…The purple one that said you'd escaped from him…that you looked different...You can tell me, Hera dear."

"Someone I hope we never see." Hera admitted with a grimace. "He makes Ole' What's-his-name look like a harmless child, and I'd rather not speak of him at present. We have more immediate concerns."

"If he's after you-"

"Then I know that should that day come, I will have the ferocity of the Weasley Matriarch bearing down on his arse with all the might of the famed Valkyrie." Hera assured her, which seemed to appease the woman for now. "There's really nothing anyone can do at present anyway, not with everything going on as it is. Don't worry, he's a long way off, and I won't be seeking him out anytime soon."

"It worries me that you think you'll have to seek such a person out at all, Hera dear." Mrs. Weasley pointed out.

Hera just gave her a small smile, as she replied. "To protect your family, Molly, what wouldn't you do?"