*braces* So, I may be dusting off the mothballs of this story. Is there enough interest still to keep it going? What do you guys think?

Harry eagerly ripped into the envelope with American postage plastered all over it, grinning at the thought of his boyfriend having to learn about the muggle way to send mail. With the war on, international mail had to be posted the muggle way across the pond, before they reached a wizarding mail station and came the rest of the way by Owl. The trans-atlantic mail stations, where Owls or apparating postmen could safely stop along the long route across the ocean, were not in operation at this point. Ron had been in California for over two weeks now, and this would be the first Harry had gotten word from him. Patroni weren't feasible at such a distance, and given the incursion at Hogwarts and the other schools, the Floo network was all but shut down save for dire emergencies.

Letter finally in hand, green eyes scanned the page quickly, as if the words would disappear if he didn't read them right away.

Harry,

Me and Rupert arrived in Sunnydale safely. We actually managed to beat the Slayer here, as she was also transferring in from another school. Rupert said something about her being expelled. Don't tell your Dad, or he'll take an instant dislike to the poor girl on that point alone! Anyway, we got a nice enough flat, and to simplify things for my registration at the local school, we're playing at Rupert being my uncle, and that he's got custody of me or some rot. Not sure I'll ever call him Uncle Rupert - he's already too much like another older brother, honestly - but it makes our living together and familiarity plausible enough.

Buffy, the Slayer, didn't exactly take kindly to meeting us at first. She'd kind of hoped after her other Watcher died that she was free of this whole Slayer business, so us showing up to carry on with her training sort of blew that plan out of the water. She reminds me of you, in some ways. She gets that she's destined or chosen or whatever, but instead of letting that go to her head and getting all high and mighty about it, she almost resents it. She just wants a normal life with normal things.

Of course, also like you, she's not normal. She's got a destiny. And bloody hell, Buffy can kick some serious arse! Also, for the record, did you know that if you stab a vampire through the heart with a stick they explode into a pile of dust? Like poof! At least, the sort of vampires around here do. Not sure Leland would, since he's a different class. I'm still learning about all that rot. In any case, it's pretty wicked when one second you've got this ponce trying to take a bite out of you, and the next he's just a pile of dust.

Me and Buffy are getting along decently well, I suppose. I mean, we don't have a ton in common, but the fact that we're both bound to the same fight is bonding in its own way; her because she's the Slayer, and me because I'm training to be a Watcher. I haven't told her about Vala yet, but I think I will eventually.

We've also managed to make two other friends, who while I can't tell them about real magic, the Watcher's Council is less stingy about people learning about what goes bump in the night. Rupert was hesitant to let them participate in any of the fighting, but agreed they could at least help with research. They seem to end up helping with the fighting anyhow. We're all learning together. It's a good team we're forming. Safety in numbers is a good thing.

Willow is a lot like Hermione was, you know, back then. Always raising her hand in class, knows every answer, bloody teacher's pet, the works. That said, she's also a ginger. So cross Ginny and Hermione and you get Willow, and it's bloody scary, I'll tell you. She's still so young, I guess we all are, but I imagine when she grows up she's going to be a force to be reckoned with. She seems really interested in magic, too, and Rupert suspects she may be a muggleborn that has gone unnoticed by the American Ministry. Common enough thing, here, he says. Americans don't run scans for Muggleborns the way we do. They have to do some major accidental magic before they turn ten or eleven to get into Ilvermorny. I sort of hate the Statute of Secrecy right now. There's so much me and Rupert could teach Willow if it wasn't in the bloody way.

The other friend is a bloke. Xander. If I had an American twin, it would be him. I mean, we don't look a bit alike, but habit wise, the way we think, what we prioritize, and so forth are all very similar. I know we're going to probably butt heads here and there, because we both get hot headed sometimes, but end of the day I think our common interest in protecting Buffy will keep us in line.

That being said, he is straight so don't you worry about a thing. Even if he were gay it wouldn't matter. I love you Harry, and no matter the distance, no matter how long it takes, we'll be together again one day. I know the Floo is a no go right now, but eventually things will get better, and maybe then we can at least talk every day or two, perhaps even spring for international portkeys now and then. Merlin knows I miss home already, but even so I'd love to show you Sunnydale sometime.

Well, the Scoobies just knocked on the door, so I gotta close. Rupert will hold them off for a minute but Willow already suspects I've got someone back home and keeps trying to get me to give details. I just don't know how to explain who you are without talking about magic. Bloody statute of secrecy! Oh, here she comes!

Gotta go! Love you!

Ron

Harry grinned widely, enthralled by the picture Ron had painted of the new people in his life. He easily pictured a cross of teenaged Hermione with Ginny, and decided he really wanted to meet Willow someday, and figured if Xander was anything like Ron, they'd get along just fine too. Buffy, Harry mused, might be what Mother would call a kindred spirit; somebody who understood him deeply but felt no need to complicate the relationship beyond simply enjoying that it existed. Somewhere out there, was a girl called Buffy who had her life chosen for her, a destiny to protect others from great evil, even if it cost her greatly; a girl who was just like him. For the first time in over two weeks, Harry didn't feel alone in the world.

Minerva supposed she should have expected it. When Amanda Ruehl had died, leaving Elizabeth and Quinn on their own here at Hogwarts, she should have expected that word would eventually reach their idiot father of what had happened. Amanda had been quite clear that he'd been unwelcome in the children's lives, but with her gone and them both underage; Elizabeth sixteen and Quinn thirteen, technically speaking Ethan Rayne had every right to come along and take his children away.

That said, Ethan Rayne was still an agent of Eygon, so far as Rupert had said, and Minerva wasn't about to let two innocent children go off with a man who worshiped a chaos demon. Not if she could help it. Rayne's cocky grin as he locked eyes with her upon his approach only steeled her resolve. "Go get Severus," she whispered to Sirius, who she'd just been speaking with, newly out of the Hospital and desperately trying to make himself useful. "Quickly."

Sirius transformed into his Animagus form at once and quickly bounded away, leaving her alone to deal with the approaching guest.

"McGonagall!" he greeted cheerfully. "How's things? You look great!"

"Bit of a war on right now, Rayne," she replied crisply. "Can I assume you are here because you received word of Amanda's passing?"

He let out a sigh. "I had a tracking spell on her. When it went inert, I investigated and learned there'd been something of a squabble here. I wasn't one hundred percent certain she was dead, but figured it was likely. Since you've confirmed that, I'd like to see my children."

"You assume your children want to see you," Minerva countered. "They loved their mother dearly, and I sincerely doubt they'd be inclined to go with a man she rather loathed."

"Neither they nor you have a choice in the matter, McGonagall," Rayne replied. "Even under this new Confederacy that's pulled together in the wake of the war, I have a right to my children."

"Ah," she replied. "Laws can be changed, and I have a bit of pull with the Lord Regent, as it happens."

"I'm sure I can be equally as convincing," Rayne insisted.

Minerva did not feel even slightly guilty for the look of abject horror on Ethan Rayne's face when Severus' voice boomed from behind him. "You will have a rather difficult time convincing me of anything, old friend. As I'm rather practiced at seeing through your lies."

"Severus?" Rayne exclaimed, turning around in shock. "You? They made you Lord Regent of the Confederacy? The world really is going to hell."

"It's a shame you didn't arrive two weeks ago," Minerva's friend replied, a hint of a smile on his lips. "You only just missed Rupert. He'd have been delighted to see you."

"Bloody hell," Rayne breathed, clearly recalling some score that was most definitely not settled. "Dodged that bullet."

"Minerva," Severus said, addressing her. "If you would kindly get hold of Griphook, I'd like to draft up a new law which allows minors to seek asylum within the Confederacy, their needs provided for by us, should their parents or guardians be in violation of Confederacy laws, should they feel they'd be in danger in that custody, etc. I'm sure we can hammer out the details. More than Elizabeth and Quinn could benefit from this kind of legislation. Were it not for other circumstances, Draco might be in a similar situation, for example. Children need not be forced to follow in the footsteps of idiocy."

"You do this, Severus, and I will make you pay," Rayne promised, balling his fists.

Sirius, who had returned with Severus, stepped forward. "You threaten the Lord Regent again, and I'll rip your balls off. Respect your betters, you piece of shite. How about you think about that while I escort you off the premises?"

As Sirius grabbed Rayne by the cuff of his shirt and began forcing him to move back toward the front gate, Severus moved to stand beside Minerva. After a moment, he let out what sounded like a rather satisfied sigh. "Sirius Black just defended my bloody honor," he said. "I think hell just froze over."

Minerva laughed. "Don't forget, Severus, that Sirius was once a boy stuck in a home where his parents were beating him because he refused to practice dark magic, or follow Voldemort. The law you just proposed, had it been in place thirty years ago, would have changed his life dramatically. Further, it would have saved Harry from his situation with the Dursleys. I do believe you made a new friend today."

Severus balked. "I didn't think about all that. Merlin. How the hell do I keep collecting Gryffindors?"

"We're just good like that," she smirked, laughing again at his annoyed eye roll.

"You ready?" Lily asked.

"Would you be ready to meet up with two exes who both did you wrong after flinging you nine-hundred years into the future?" James inquired.

"Don't be a toerag," the ginger woman snapped.

"All these years, and I still don't know what a bloody toerag is," James muttered.

"Let's just assume all Gryffindor men are toerags at some point," Hermione mused. "The implication is idiotic bravado tied together with insensitively stating the obvious."

"Huh. That makes sense," he replied.

"In any case," Lily said, "best be on with it. I sent word we were coming. Sort of figured they deserved some warning."

"How did you send word?" Hermione asked, curious. "I've not been able to do any magic here since I arrived."

"All due respect, Hermione, but I've been here a bit longer than you," Lily smirked. "It took years, but eventually our magic started to work again. Mostly, it's useless, but with proper motivation we can even affect the outside world in small ways. Peeves is an odd sort of being, and he can access both sides of things. Half the pranking he does are things he and James come up with together. I mostly keep to myself, but boredom will sometimes have me knocking books off the shelves of the Library and then using my magic to turn pages so I can read. I only do it after hours so Madam Pince doesn't have a fright. In this case, however, I sent my Patronus to the Founders' Room. Simple enough."

"Impressive to do so wandlessly, though," Hermione regarded as they came upon a familiar wall, a door already forming to give them entry to the Room of Requirement. "Now, shall we?"

Lily nodded, taking Hermione's hand in silent support, as James moved forward to open the large wooden door. Hermione wasn't quite sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't what she saw.

Salazar, Rowena, and Helga were all sitting on sofas, clearly awaiting their arrival. They looked too solid to be ghosts, and yet there was a shimmer about their bodies which clearly indicated some enchantment at work in their construct. Further to Hermione's surprise, they were not wearing the sort of clothing she recalled ever seeing them in, but rather they were dressed in modern attire. Salazar wore a black three piece suit with a green tie, his dark hair tied back not unlike the way Severus had taken to wearing his lately. As she met his eyes, he tore his away, as if he felt some great guilt, and Hermione wasn't surprised by this. Rowena wore something Hermione imagined she'd stolen out of Helen Magnus' wardrobe; a gray pencil skirt and flowing blouse with just enough detailing on the seams to hint of Victorian leanings, along with a gray vest to match the skirt. Her brown hair was tied up in a bun, eyes fixed on Hermione in a manner which spoke of an understanding that there was conflict to resolve. Helga wore muggle blue jeans and a comfortable looking cream button down, her hair braided and resting on her shoulder, simple joy in her eyes at the sight of the coming reunion.

"Where's Godric?" James asked, noticing the fourth Founder's absence only a split second before Hermione did.

"Gone," Salazar whispered. "You Gryffindors and your damn propensity for self sacrifice."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Helena," Rowena answered after a pause, and it was all the explanation Hermione required.

There were old, dark magics which she had learned during her time with Salazar, Godric, Rowena, and Helga. They were magics long forgotten, buried in the past for good reason, or in some cases, just forgotten because of the rarity of circumstances for which the spells could be utilized. Several things clicked together in Hermione's mind all at once. For James and Lily to be here, that meant that James Potter must have been a Wardling; his spirit bound to this castle much in the same way hers was by being one of Hogwarts' founders. When Lily bonded herself to James, she in turn bonded herself to Hogwarts, her spirit being dragged along into the wards right along with James. There were spells to prevent wardlings from being trapped in the wards like this; Hermione had meant to teach them to Minerva in due time so that she was spared this very fate. Clearly, nobody had taught those spells to James, and by extension, to Lily.

Further, there was a spell which allowed somebody trapped within the wards of Hogwarts to sacrifice their life force - their soul - so that somebody lost between places could have a second chance at life. In other words, it was a means to bring a ghost back to life. Godric had given up his soul so that her daughter Helena might have a second chance. Hermione had no earthly idea how to feel about that. Grateful? Grief stricken? Angry that Godric would do something so utterly reckless?

"When you came back," Salazar spoke, "Godric watched as you and Helena suffered the separation of life and death. You, his sister. She, his goddaughter. Then, Helena took interest in young Draco Malfoy, and to the astonishment of all of us, he in her. A mortal who could love a ghost? In all the years we've watched over this castle, it has never been seen. Godric felt that if magic saw fit to bring Helena her mother, and a young man worthy of her love, all at the same time, that he could do his part to make the mechanics a bit simpler. I did try to get him to see reason."

Rowena was looking at the floor as Hermione approached, and tilted her face up. "You didn't," she gently accused.

The dark haired witch slapped Hermione's hand away. "You and Salazar were both willing to give up your souls to save Lucy. Why should I be any different for my own daughter? Godric had the idea. I volunteered to make the sacrifice myself, but he wouldn't hear of it. Once I realized it was possible, it was just a matter of who would do it. Not doing it was impossible."

Hermione nodded, understanding. "Knowing him, he knew that I would have questions for you that he couldn't answer. Godric and I said our goodbyes a long time ago, and while Merlin knows the man infuriated me, I could at least count on him to be honest about everything. Gods above, Rowena, why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"

"You lose," Helga called, pointing to James.

"Bugger," the dark haired man whispered. "Fine, two hours sparring tomorrow then, you wench."

Lily shook her head, looking annoyed at the Hufflepuff Founder and her ex husband, and explained. "Helga and James made a bet as to how long it would take before you confronted Rowena about the thing."

"Really?" Hermione snapped, glaring at Helga.

"What?" Helga shrugged. "He was convinced you'd wait till you found some private time. I told him you'd been walking around with a stick up your arse since the day you found out Helena was your daughter, and that you'd not last five minutes without taking it out to beat Rowena with it a bit. Sorry for bloody knowing you!"

Hermione smiled a little, the old banter between her and her somewhat uncouth friend remembered, allowing her to shake loose of the shield of propriety she'd been holding up since the day she'd returned to her present. "Bitch," she snipped.

"Whore," Helga whipped back, grinning widely. "Oh, Hermione, it's so good to see you. That said, on with the drama. I mean, it's been almost ten centuries, Rowena. Surely you've come up with a decent answer by now."

"Hopefully an honest one," Hermione said curtly, turning her attention back to her former lover.

"Because I didn't want my child to go through what Lucy was going through," Rowena snapped. "How's that for honesty, Hermione? You showed up in the past, clear from go that you were going to find a way back to your own time. When you got pregnant with Lucy, I know I was supportive of the notion, but looking back I wish like hell I'd been on your side. Merlin knows I love my goddaughter, but it killed me to watch her count the days till she knew her Mum was going to abandon her. When I realized I was pregnant, as much as I was overjoyed to have a piece of you to hold onto, I knew damn well that if I told you, you'd stay longer. You'd draw out Lucy's suffering, and then she'd have children and then they'd grow to know you and love you, and lose you too. Then, there was our child to consider - and I felt like it was better for that child to never know her other mother than to grow to care for a parent whose first priority was never to her, but rather to a future that she could never be part of."

Silence permeated the room for a full minute before Lily's whispered "Damn," broke it.

Hermione knew she was crying, and she didn't really care. "Oh gods," she finally said, voice shaking. "I'm so sorry. I never… I never looked at it that way before. You're right. For as much as I regret not being there for her childhood… you made the right decision, Rowena. Not just just for Helena, but for Lucy and her children as well. Bloody hell I'm such a selfish bitch."

Rowena moved forward, pulling Hermione close, and kissing her gently on the forehead. "Yes, well. You're our selfish bitch, so forget about it. What's done is done, love. All we can do from here is move on."

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