Well the last chapter was a bit on the short side, and this one is on the long side. Yay for you lot. The end of this chapter made my Beta cry so... brace yourselves? ENJOY!
Rupert waved his red-haired companion into the lift that would take them to the office level of the Watcher Headquarters. "This whole building is full of Watchers?" Ron asked, having taken note of the oversized atrium that served as an entry to the nine story architectural example of ostentatious.
"Indeed," the older man replied. "While there's only one active Slayer at a given time, there are hundreds of Potentials, much like your sister, and they are assigned Watchers as well to help prepare them for if they're called. Rarely, though relevant because such is the case with Miss Summers, the Council will miss a Potential and she'll become a Slayer with no previous knowledge of her gifts and what they mean."
"Can we expect Miss Summers to be in poor fighting form, then? Since she didn't have training ahead of time?"
Rupert shrugged. "I'd imagine that her first Watcher, Mister Jamison-Smythe, brought her up to speed, though it would certainly be wise for us to assess her soon after meeting to get an idea on where she still needs training. Hopefully her gaps in knowledge won't be too extensive."
Ron nodded. "Is she going to know who I really am? Or does that have to stay secret?"
A laugh escaped Rupert's lips. "Mister Weasley, she won't even know who I truly am, as the Statute of Secrecy prevents us from telling her anything about the magical world. While she does have magical giftings, she's still technically a muggle, and thus, we cannot reveal our knowledge of true wizarding magic."
"I keep telling you, you can just call me Ron," the teen remarked. "And I guess that makes sense, though we'll have to tell her something to explain why I'm around your place all the time and why I'm helping protect and train her."
"Sorry, Ron, I'm still adapting to the familiarity we seem to be required to develop. Anyway, we'll tell her that you are a Watcher in training, apprenticing under me," Rupert replied. "Which will be the truth, as part of the reason you're with me today is because we're getting you enrolled in the Watcher's Academy, officially speaking. Presuming we manage to not get killed in the next four years, and should you be willing to remain in Sunnydale beyond the end of the war - presuming that isn't still going on in four years - then you will have earned the credentials of a fully fledged Watcher."
"What if that's not what I want to do with my life?" Ron inquired in a neutral tone, not giving away whether or not he was truly disinclined to become a Watcher in due time.
"Having the credentials means that you can use them if you choose, not that you are required to," Rupert answered. "As a tactician, I'm sure you can appreciate the merits of having options, and considering your sister is the first known magical Potential, there's no way to know whether or not her powers will activate - regardless of whether or not there is a currently active Slayer already in the field. If Vala's powers do activate, having her elder brother for a Watcher would greatly increase her life expectancy, as in general Watchers do not get attached to their Slayers, knowing full well they are likely to die young. This, in turn, means the Watcher is more inclined to put the Slayer in danger, to allow her to take risks, because there's no emotional bond. Personally, I don't know how one could not eventually grow attached to his or her Slayer, given what they must face together."
"So you'll get attached to Miss Summers?" Ron inquired.
"I imagine we'll form some sort of familial bond, though it's not that uncommon for younger Watchers - Mister Botwell being an example of this - to form a romantic attachment to their Slayers. Of course, I'm far too old to look at a teenage girl in such a manner."
"Hermione and Minerva are fourteen years apart in age," Ron remarked. "You never know."
"That's a far cry from the more that twenty-five years that stand between Miss Summers and myself," Rupert replied as they stepped out of the lift and he began directing them down a long hallway. "In any case, all of that is to say that if you want the credentials, it will require staying in Sunnydale for at least four years. I'd imagine your decision will have to be made with consideration to how your Mister Potter feels about things. How is he handling the notion of you leaving, speaking of?"
Ron sighed. "He says he understands, and I know that logically he does, though he can't hide the pain, or the feeling abandoned. Not from me, anyway. He's putting on a show of being strong, and Merlin knows he will be, but it'll hurt like hell. On the other hand, I think a part of him is glad that I'll be away from the front lines of the war."
"That doesn't necessarily mean you'll be away from danger. A Slayer fights Vampires and Demons and the like. We, as her Watchers, will be fighting by her side," the older man said pointedly.
"I know. That said, it's going to be bloody weird fighting vampires. I mean, Leland's a vampire and he's a good bloke. Why aren't these vampires good like him?" Ron asked.
"Simply put, it's the difference between a born Vampire and a made Vampire. A born Vampire, such as Leland, has a soul, the same as any other person. A made vampire is a person who has become possessed, after death, by a demon. That said, not all born Vampires are good. They are by nature very strong, very smart, and have a lust for power that often drives them to the darkness. Leland is actually quite the rarity."
"Are all demons possessed people?" Ron asked, seeking clarification.
"No," Rupert answered. "Most of them are flesh and blood from birth to death, though Vampires are not the only exception to this rule. Werewolves are much the same."
"So you're saying that Remus has a demon inside of him?" Ron frowned, obviously not liking that notion in the slightest.
"There are actually two classes of Werewolves as well, and you've met one of each. Young Henry Foss - Helen Magnus' ward, is a born Werewolf, or Lycan, and that process is much like Vampirism is for Leland. Mister Lupin is the product of a magical infection, which can be passed on, though it does not harm the soul."
"I guess I have a lot to learn," Ron sulked. "Get out of school early just to go somewhere else to be schooled even more."
"Regretting your choice already?" Rupert teased good-naturedly as they approached the door leading to Academy registration. "Last chance to back out…"
Ron's eyes gleamed with resolve. "Not a chance, Watcher-man. You're stuck with me."
"Very well."
The two entered the room, and Rupert was rather surprised to see a witch at the intake desk rather than a fellow Watcher. "Madame Trelawney," he greeted the very well known seer with a small bow. "What a surprise."
The red-head balked at the name, no doubt associating it with his least favorite Professor at Hogwarts. "Like Professor Sybill Trelawney?" he asked.
"Your Professor," the very old looking woman nodded. "My great-great granddaughter."
"Blimey."
"I thought you were up in Devon," Rupert said, handing her the paperwork for Ron's admission.
"I saw you to be the Slayer's Watcher," Cassandra said airily. "And I saw that you would bring the boy here today. I also saw that you were to meet a daughter of a dark house, and that you would bring her aid, but I didn't see how you met her so I simply assumed it was my job to tell you that part."
Rupert shook his head. "As always, seers give me a headache. Who are we to meet, when and where?"
"Katrina is her name, noon today is the date, and the stand-in king's café is the place."
Ron looked thoughtful. "I saw a sign for Regency Café on the tube," he remarked. "Guess that's where we're having lunch."
Cassandra smiled at Ron, confirming to Rupert that the teen was on the mark as to deciphering the where element. Why seers couldn't just say what they meant, he'd never know.
"Well, there you go," she said, handing Rupert back a few papers, as well as offering a badge to Ron. "You're enrolled, sister Keeper, sister Watcher. Twice over in the end, actually."
This time Ron looked truly perplexed.
"You'll see," she assured the red-haired teen. "I expect great things from you young man. Now off with you both. You have an appointment to keep with fate."
Ron and Rupert, both puzzled, left the Watcher's council after a brief stop in to another office for Rupert's updated credentials, and made their way to the café that Cassandra Trelawney had directed them to.
"Her…" the older man said, pointing out a woman with a wild head of curly hair. "Hermione's been trying to find her since Mungo's fell. She's a mediwitch, and a Voldemort sympathizer."
Ron tensed immediately, but followed as Rupert made the approach. Both men took a seat at the table where she'd been sitting alone. "Mind if we join you?" the redhead asked rhetorically.
"No isn't an answer we're going to accept, Miss Millson," Rupert replied. "I believe we have a few things to discuss."
The woman sighed, and rolled her eyes. "Well, which of my parents sent you?" she asked tersely. "You'd think at nearly fifty years of age they might stop acting like I was still an infant, but no. Not a bloody chance."
"Um…" Ron said, his expression betraying his confusion. "We were sent by Cassandra Trelawney, the Seer. She seems to think that your loyalties are not as Dark as publically believed."
Katrina looked at him in surprise. "Well in that case… pleased to meet you, Mister -"
"Weasley," the teen replied. "And this here is Mister Giles."
"Ah, George's boy," she identified Rupert by his father. "Last I heard you were working alongside that Slytherin woman."
"I do work with Madam Slytherin," the Watcher acknowledged, "but I'm being assigned elsewhere shortly and thus my business in London. Meeting with you was a last minute diversion per, as Mister Weasley said, a conversation with Madam Trelawney and her indication that you are not so loyal to Voldemort as we had previously believed."
"My mother comes from a family known for dabbling in the Dark Arts," Katrina stated, "and she has been clear in her expectation that I follow that path. When Voldemort was in power back in the day, I was in America to build on my existing Medical Mastery. I heard things, but never saw anything first hand. As I've never been one to judge on second hand information, I told my mother I agreed with whatever she thought - mostly so she'd not nag - and to me it didn't really matter because I didn't come back to England until nineteen eighty-three, by which time Voldemort had fallen and the dust was mostly settled. When he started to rise again, I saw the carnage first hand and began having doubts on where I stood. Then, after the attack on St. Mungo's, it was clear to me that I could not support such a monster, who'd attack helpless people, but given my history I didn't think the Order would offer much welcome. So I left."
"What's your connection to the Watchers?" Rupert wanted to know.
"Blood, unfortunately," she groaned. "My dear father has spent my entire life assuring me that if I ever got fed up with Wizard kind, I'd be welcome at the Watcher's Council. He even made me go through the process to get my Watcher credentials, which of course I've never actually used."
"Who's your dad?" Ron wanted to know.
Rupert was equally curious.
"Quentin Travers," she replied sourly. "I do believe you're acquainted with the bastard."
"Bloody hell," was all the older man could think to say. He'd known Travers for most of his life, and he'd had no idea that the Head of the Council had ever had a child.
Helping in the Orphanage Wing suited Emma, who'd had plenty of experience with small children when her Mum, Rosmerta, was still alive and running the Three Broomsticks. She was even more inclined to help the Weasleys out here now, having been witness to the birth of their new baby.
Vala was special. Emma expected that every parent looked at their child and felt they were something beyond average, but this wasn't just Molly and Arthur's opinion. The Watchers - Rupert, Quentin Travers, and that new fellow, Christopher Botwell, were positively swooning over the birth of a magical Slayer potential, and Emma herself just had a feeling about the baby. Something inside of her made her feel like Vala belonged to her just as much as she did the Weasleys, and she couldn't help but wonder what that meant.
"I don't know what it is about this little girl," Molly said, handing the baby over to Emma after she'd finished nursing, "but she is taking a lot of energy out of me. I suppose I'm just getting old."
"You're not old, Mrs. Weasley," Emma said gently. "New babies are just hard work. And you're still dealing with the other kids here too, which is why I'm on Weasley detail. I'm here to make sure you don't push yourself too hard. The baby deserves as much of your time as you can give."
"Which isn't as much time as I wish I could offer her," Molly said sadly, watching her now sleeping daughter. "How long are you here for today?"
"Just until three," Emma replied. She glanced at the clock on the wall and was surprised to see that it was quarter to three now. Last she'd looked it hadn't even been noon. She'd missed lunch, and her stomach was now grumbling over the fact.
"If you can take Vala into our quarters and lay her down in the pram before you go, I'd appreciate it," Molly said. "Arthur has been cooped up in there all day doing paperwork, so he can keep an eye on her."
"Sure, Mrs. Weasley."
Emma held the sleeping infant close to her body as she moved between the rows of beds for other children being housed here, and thanked Merlin that the boys were making her learn wandless magic when she realized that she didn't have a free hand to open the door with.
"Emma!" Mr. Weasley greeted softly, noting his sleeping daughter. "Time for you to be off?"
"How'd you guess?"
"You're relinquishing hold on my daughter," he teased. "You're very fond of her."
"Well, I did witness her birth, and she's named for me, and she's awfully cute…" Emma reasoned.
"One day I'm sure you'll have your own children," Arthur offered.
"Don't know about that," Emma mused. "I like kids, really, but I don't know if I actually want to be a mum. An aunt for sure, but I don't know if I could be responsible - completely responsible - for another life. I've got too much I want to do in life and I think I'm too selfish to be a parent. Learning matters more to me than a family of my own."
"You never know what will happen," the Weasley Patriarch said softly as Emma laid Vala down in her pram. "It may surprise you to know that when I was your age, I had no intention of having children either."
"What changed?" the teen wanted to know.
"I fell in love with a woman who wanted as many children as she could have," he smiled. "And love changes you."
"Well I'm in love with books," the Ravenclaw pouted. "And they don't have babies."
"Time will tell, Miss McGonagall," Arthur offered with a pacifying smile. "Now, off with you. I ran into Mister Malfoy a few hours ago and he was looking for you. I'd be willing to bet he's still looking."
The innuendo did not escape Emma. "Ew," she said, gagging. "Never in a million years. I could never be with a guy who took his looks more seriously than I do!"
That made the wizard laugh heartily, causing Vala to gurgle in her sleep. Emma took her leave a moment later, not wanting to wake the baby with their conversation, and went looking for Harry. Her brother would be easier to find than Draco, and he'd have the map, so she could find Draco that way. With so many people in the castle, new faces and old, it was hard to find anyone in the midst of the crowd.
As it happened, she found Draco waiting at the end of the Herbology corridor, and he nearly dragged her down a series of halls, claiming that he and Harry needed her help with something. The something they needed help with was the last thing Emma could have been prepared for. Dudley, who'd been dragged to the empty classroom by Harry much as Draco had brought her, seemed even less prepared to face a reality in which their ghost of a sister, Helena Ravenclaw, was no longer a ghost. She was a living, breathing person, and scared shitless of what Hermione was going to do when she found out.
"How did this happen?" Emma asked her adoptive sister.
"She hasn't the foggiest," Draco answered for her. "We figure we need to talk to Hermione - she can always figure things out, but Helena is afraid she'll be mad."
"Whatever for?" the Ravenclaw teen asked.
"Well I am from an age when the Dark Arts were more freely used," Helena replied. "I'm afraid she'll assume I did this of my own accord, or that I coerced someone else. She has no reason to trust my word."
Emma shook her head. "Mum has a very strict policy with her kids to believe them at their word unless evidence shows otherwise. It's the reason none of us like to lie to her. We don't want to ruin that trust. Right boys?"
Harry and Dudley nodded in agreement. "She's never had reason to doubt your word, and she won't assume she has reason to now," the latter agreed with his little sister.
"But she's so suspicious of everyone!" Helena exclaimed.
"That's Head of the Order Hermione that you're talking about," Harry tried. "Not our mum. I know she's both, but she doesn't bring her job into her parenting. I promise, Helena, you've got nothing to worry about. Mum will be glad that you're alive, just as we are, and we'll work together to figure out what happened to get you that way."
The five teens talked for a while about when to speak with Hermione, eventually opting to simply bring her home for dinner tonight and go from there. They knew that both Minerva and Hermione would be there, as well as Severus, which meant that three of the smartest people in the Wizarding world would be hands on deck to figure all this out. More than that, dinner was for family only, and even Draco agreed he had no right or reason to intrude on the reunion between the mother and daughter.
"It'll be an interesting evening," Emma surmised, earning nods from the rest of the group.
"Hector," Hermione addressed the Badger in human skin as the Sacred Twenty-Eight meeting was called to order. "Last meeting you said you were going to make contact and secure alliances with the Bears, Wolves, and Fauns. How is that progressing?"
"The Bears, unfortunately, seem to be internally debating the issue of who to ally with. They're not giving me a straight answer. The Wolves are much the same, though the head of the pack indicated that he was insulted I'd been sent rather than the Lycan representative," he said, sparing Helen Magnus a glance. "The Fauns have agreed to join us but are requiring certain terms, which are admittedly long-winded and will likely require negotiation before finalizing."
So much for 'I'll have them all on board by next meeting,' Hermione grumbled to herself. "Ahuitzotl, the Serpent community?" she continued, addressing the Basilisk.
"As Hector said regarding the Bears, there is debate regarding loyalty," came the reply, "though they seem to be leaning in our favor. The wife of Salazar is a stronger tie than some distant heir."
That was at least something. Hermione would have preferred a more solid yes from them, but of all the magical creatures, she knew the Serpents would be the hardest sell. They'd historically sided with the Dark. "Cypselus? Atshep?"
The Griffin and Sphinx representatives both stood. "My kind believe our numbers to be too small to risk taking either side of the war, though in the interest of peace we will remain neutral in the fighting, and we will provide any information we can to the Order, and not to Voldemort."
The tall man looked sour at the words coming out of his mouth, which didn't surprise Hermione as during the last meeting he swore his kind would be ready and rearing for a fight. That could have done wonders for their air support. Atshep nearly quoted Cypselus to the word, though she looked more at ease with the notion. There were even less Sphinxes left in the world than there were Griffins, and during the last meeting, she'd told Hermione to expect this answer.
"Sandor?"
"The Giants are with you and your cause, m'lady," the ragged looking man said gruffly, not even bothering to stand. "But they won't get here for another month."
"Viola?" Hermione directed her sight to her friend, trying to mask her disappointment that the Giants wouldn't be here sooner. "Obviously the Dragons have already declared for our side. They were supposed to be seeing what they could do about Gringotts…"
Viola rubbed her temples. "Well, they have in fact managed to empty Gringotts, making the resources within out of Voldemort's reach. However, they have taken everything to a supposedly secure location which they are not disclosing to me, and that of course means we don't have access to those items either."
"Oh, bloody grand!" Hermione groaned. "Work on that, please. I'm less concerned with the gold and more about the artifacts. Who knows what sort of useful items were in the Vaults. Merlin save me when Griphook hears about this…"
The reason Hermione was running the meeting today was because the human body of Griphook had managed to contract the common muggle cold, and was currently in the hospital wing recovering. The Goblin was milking it for all it was worth. One would think that he was severely ill. Hermione just thanked the gods he hadn't been here to hear that the dragons had made off with all the gold in Gringotts.
"Dobby, have you found a mate yet?" Hermione asked, hoping for better news.
He nodded vigorously. "Dobby is set to bond with Aroen, Daughter of Enwyn, of House Malfoy, at the next full moon in two weeks."
Finally. Good news. Hermione couldn't help but be exasperated by the fact that, so far, the House Elf was the only one who seemed to be doing what he was supposed to do, when he was supposed to do it. "Bane, Helen, and Robert. How is progress on getting that defense perimeter up and running?"
"Slow work," Bane replied. "We're getting less support from Helen's people than we were hoping."
"The Heads of the Sanctuaries have to look to their own protection as well," Helen elaborated. "James Watson is to be here next week to at least bring supplies, and I'm hoping I can cajole a bit more out of him once he can't simply hang up the phone."
"And I, of course, can't direct crews to build until I have more supplies to build with," Robert added. "Though I do have a list of about sixty people from the refugees that are willing and able to lend a wand once materials arrive."
"Jon? Galahad?" Hermione hissed, trying and failing to hide her mounting frustration at the lack of progress. "Has the Library decided if or not to loan us some artifacts?"
The Librarian answered. "The Library has agreed, though Charlene insists on cataloguing everything we borrow so we're sure to get it back, so it's going to be a trip of a couple of days to get everything. We're planning to go Thursday."
"And Hermione," Galahad interjected, "I was wondering if I might borrow Emma for that venture. Her skills would be of use, as would an extra hand, and I think she'd appreciate seeing the Library."
The Head of the Order had to smile at that. Emma would most certainly enjoy the wonder that was the Library. "Of course, my friend. Just be sure to remind me before you go so I don't panic over a missing child."
"Of course," he agreed easily.
"Alright, Christopher, what is the status of the Watchers Council?" she asked Rupert's replacement. Gods, Hermione was loathe to lose Rupert and even more sad to be losing Ron in the process, but she couldn't change the fact that the Slayer needed a Watcher, and Rupert was it. Sending Ron with him was logical on many levels, though it saddened her how much this was hurting Harry. Of course, as always, her son would endure.
"The Council is open to having the unactivated Slayers and Watchers be part of the fighting force when it comes down to a major, planned attack on Voldemort, though they want the girls to have some specialized training first, which means they'd need a place to train. There are already too many people here, so I don't imagine you'd want them brought here to train, but I can't think of anywhere else," Christopher, or Kit as he liked to be called, replied.
"I'll go back to that," she acknowledged. "Alright, Minerva, Augusta, Thomas, Liu, and Amos. You six are my curriculum team. What is the plan for dealing with the influx of students come September?"
In reality, this was Thomas McKinnon and Liu Chang's project, though they of course had to coordinate with Minerva in her capacity of Headmistress, and they'd recruited Amos and Augusta for the sake of their respective social circles and the connections they'd bring. Liu spoke for the group. "We have curriculum, but we're still short on teachers. Most of the subjects we're still trying to fill are for the younger students. Just basic reading, writing, and arithmetic. Most of the people who are skilled with children that young are already committed to working with the Weasleys in the Orphanage Wing. We're open to suggestions on where to recruit."
"Minerva, weren't you saying last week that you had too many people offering to help with classes?" Hermione asked her lover.
"That was before you insisted on shifting the excess to dueling classes for the adults," Minerva replied, "which has been very positively responded to and I'd hate to reassign them now."
"Right. Alright, um, Arthur, Leland, and Serina. What's the status on fresh water supply?"
The Black Lake was a freshwater lake, but they couldn't afford to use it as drinking water, because with the amount of people at Hogwarts, they'd end up taking too much and destroying the Merfolk's habitat in the process.
Leland answered for his group. "As expected, Serina's people agree with our concerns over using the lake. The three of us have spent the week scouting further north, and have found another large lake of freshwater, though this one is off the network of rivers the Merfolk occupy, so it's safe to take from. We've already begun laying a piping system to transport the water to Hogwarts, and Arthur is setting up a filtering system to clean it. We just need to know where on the grounds you want us to dig a really big hole to construct a well. It would need to be at least four meters wide to accommodate the flow."
Hermione nodded, and began thinking of possible locations for a well that size. "Okay, Vivian, Algie, and Garrick. Progress on setting up a shopping center?"
"Well we've gotten all the merchants to move their stores to the Quidditch pitch, but there's a lot of argument about how to lay things out," Vivian replied. "Petty bickering is a time honored tradition, and the shopkeepers seem intent on keeping it alive. I'd suggest you decide on a layout and tell them how it's going to be, because they aren't listening to any of us."
Hermione sighed. "Malcolm, how goes the Hospital's supplies? You said you were running low. Any progress there?"
"Not really," he shrugged. "Still running low."
Minerva rolled her eyes at her obviously unmotivated brother, and Hermione bit her lip to keep from outright screaming. "Severus, how's the legal system coming along?"
"It was almost complete when Griphook decided to fall ill. It will be complete a matter of days after his sorry arse decides to suck it up and get back to work," her friend grumped. He was obviously very displeased with the Goblin at the moment, and Hermione didn't blame him.
She took a deep, centering breath before addressing some of the issues that had come up. "Bane, how open would the communities in the forest be to sharing land on a long term basis?"
"Very open to it," he said. "Lady Slytherin, only about a tenth of the forest is inside the boundaries of Hogwarts. There is more than enough land to house new colonies."
Hermione looked over at her granddaughter. "Helen, use the promise of permanent land, free from human interference, as a bartering tool to get some help from the Abnormal community. You've mentioned to me more than once that many of them are displaced. And regarding extra teachers, once the Abnormals start arriving, I'm certain many of them would be qualified to help with the basic educational needs. Promise of jobs may also be a draw for them."
"That would help. I'll be sure to speak to James about passing the word along," Helen agreed easily.
"Kit," Hermione addressed the Watcher. "How many Slayer and Watcher teams are we talking about needing to host?"
"Fifty teams, maybe sixty," he replied. "They'd certainly have no problems double bunking, though."
"Augusta, are you willing to open Longbottom Manor up? We could Secret-Keep it, offering good protection, though the Watchers and Slayers are pretty far off Voldemort's radar so even without that ward they should be safe behind the Manor's existing wards."
The aging witch nodded vigorously. "No reason not to put the place to good use!"
"There, then. Problem solved." Hermione said, tone level. "What's next? Oh, right, the well that needs a location and the merchants who insist on squabbling over real estate. Well, how about you solve your problems together? Put the well in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch, and lay a path around it and then four paths out from that. It'll be like a town square, you see?"
"Of course, I don't know why I didn't think of that," Algie agreed readily.
"Severus, I do believe that Malcolm and Vivian both have legal backgrounds. Bugger Griphook and have them help you complete the new system of laws," Hermione continued. "And while you're at it, contact the Heads of the schools attached to the Room of Requirement and have a trade agreement written into the laws. I'm certain there are things we can produce here that they may be willing to accept as barter for the medical supplies that Malcolm needs. If you would all simply work together you might actually get things done! Merlin save the lot of you if I get killed!"
With that, Hermione simply turned and stormed out of the chamber, beyond frustrated with the lack of team effort. To no surprise, Minerva was hot on her heels a minute later. "Hermione, stop!"
Hermione huffed, but halted and waited for her lover to catch up. "What was that all about? Was it entirely necessary to rebuke us like a bunch of naughty schoolchildren?"
"If most of you weren't late or remiss in handing in your proverbial homework, perhaps I'd treat you like the adults that you are supposed to be!" she snapped back.
Minerva said nothing, but offered a pointed look.
"I'm sorry, alright?" Hermione said after a deep, centering breath. "It's just stress. I'm Head of the Order, and that's all, and yet Griphook has me lead more meetings than not with the Sacred Twenty-Eight, you talked me on to the new Educational board on grounds of being a Professor of Hogwarts and thereby highly qualified, Severus comes to me for advice on how to lead the wizarding world in general at all hours of the day and night, and I still have three children and a partner that I hate not having the time to spent with!"
"We'll see the children shortly, for dinner," Minerva said gently. "I'm busy as well, which you know, but we do need to make some time for us. The only way we're going to make it through this with our sanity intact is if we see to our own needs as well."
"We'll spend time Monday," Hermione promised.
Minerva sighed. "I've got Monday booked with interviews with refugees who might make good teachers for the younger children."
"Tuesday I have a meeting with the Confederation in the morning, but my afternoon is free," Hermione countered.
"So is mine," Minerva agreed. "It's a date."
"Excellent," her lover replied. "Now to dinner with the children? Severus had to decline this evening, but the children are likely already there and waiting. I'd not be surprised if they already cooked, trying to help."
"Hopefully it's edible," the Headmistress laughed.
The two walked in silence the rest of the way to the Head Tower, already feeling a bit less stressed having simply planned some time together. Minerva was right. They did need to make time for each other, for both their sakes, and the sake of the family they'd built. As expected, Harry, Dudley, and Emma were already there, though they had not made dinner.
That didn't, however, mean there wasn't a surprise waiting. Standing between the boys, who were looking all manner of courtly protectors, was her daughter Helena. While it wasn't unusual for Helena to join them in family time, the fact that she was not floating mid air, and was wearing jeans and a jumper that she must have borrowed from Emma or Ginny Weasley, and that she was not transparent - that was all decidedly out of the ordinary. In fact, it was extraordinary.
For once in her life, Hermione didn't give a single shite how or why something had happened. Her daughter - the girl who'd lived and died before Hermione had ever known her name - was alive. That was what mattered, and the joy that rushed through her at the sight was beyond words. "Helena," she choked out, rushing forward.
Both women's faces were streaked with tears by the time they met halfway across the room in a fierce embrace, touching each other for the very first time. Hermione wouldn't have traded the fall of Voldemort for this moment.
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