Dashing through the snow... on a roll with this story! ;)

Emma looked up as the door to their quarters swung open, and their niece walked in with her two children in tow. Ashley Magnus and Henry Foss were both adorable, and having Helen herself around to help out with Vala had meant a great deal to Emma since Mother had gone back to work. Granted, it wasn't as though Mother had been a big help with Vala before she'd gone back to work, but that was water under the bridge. Emma had understood. Dudley spent most of his free time with Severus, learning what he could about politics and business, and Luna was doing her best to support him in that. Emma also knew that Luna had taken to spending time with Professor Trelawney, saying that while she couldn't really explain it, she felt like it was important that she did. Lucy had told her to not press the issue with Luna, which Dudley had confided to Emma had him concerned, given Trelawney's reaction to meeting Lucy for the first time.

Helena, being mortal again, still spent much of her time with Draco Malfoy, although the two of them were keen on being very proper about the whole thing and always found ways to ensure they were together in the company of others. On any given day they could be found at the market where the Quidditch Pitch used to be, or simply wandering around the castle elsewhere trying to be useful. Helena had taken to helping in the Orphanage Wing with Emma, alongside Helen, who had taken over being in charge of that after Arthur and Molly Weasley had died. Draco, on the days the girls were there, could either be found training with one of the Aurors, or in the Library hitting the books alone. What exactly he was studying was still a mystery; Draco hadn't even confided in his girlfriend what he was spending all that time in the Library for, simply insisting that when he found what he was looking for, he'd share. Despite the fact that Emma was prone to be suspicious on a good day, and nosy any other time, she'd come to see Draco as an extra brother in many ways, and ultimately, she trusted that he wasn't up to anything bad and would share when he was ready. In truth, if he and Helena married one day, he would be her brother by law, in time.

Of course, that left Harry. Harry was of course a bloody mess without Mum, made worse without Ron, and although he didn't admit it to anyone, Emma and Dudley knew his nightmares were back. The two of them had taken turns using monitoring charms on his bed so that they could be there if he had a nightmare. School would be starting back up soon, but even then the siblings had agreed that they'd be remaining in their quarters instead of returning to dorms. Mum had added another bedroom for Helena before she'd died, and Vala was staying with Emma in her room for now, so there was space for everyone. In time, Emma figured Mother could manage another room for Vala, assuming none of them moved out for good before then.

"How is everyone?" Helen Magnus asked, scooping Vala out of Emma's arms.

"Managing," Emma replied, eyeing the small crowd of people. Lucy was busy with Order stuff with Remus today, but Dudley and Harry, along with Helena and Draco had all gathered here this afternoon. Vala, of course, was a fixture.

"Mister Malfoy, it's good to see you," Helen greeted the proverbial extra.

"Doctor Magnus," he responded in kind. "Last we spoke you mentioned there had been some positive response from the Abnormal community regarding the offer for land to colonize. Has that progressed?"

Helen smiled, clearly appreciative of somebody taking an interest in her world, as it were. Draco wasn't the only one. Harry had admitted to Emma just the other night that he was hoping to ask Helen if he might spend some time at the Sanctuary after the war was over and he'd graduated. Her brother really did loathe his fame, and by extension to a point, the wizarding world. Harry felt, he said, that he couldn't reject magic altogether, and simply run off to the muggle world when everything was done, but he wondered if the Sanctuary might be just that for him; a sanctuary. He wondered if perhaps it would be a middle ground where he could use his magical gifts without prejudice, but still be removed from the magical community in general enough that most of those he interacted with wouldn't know who he was on sight.

Emma had joked that Harry's plan would only work out so long as he and Helen kept it secret that they were related, as according to Galahad she was as famous in her world as Harry was in theirs. Any relative of Doctor Helen Magnus would be hugely popular. Harry had just replied that it was a good thing his surname wasn't Magnus, then.

"It has," Helen replied to Draco's inquiry. "I've got about three hundred Abnormals, spanning about twenty different species, en route as we speak. They should arrive the week before the term is set to begin. My colleague, James Watson, will be accompanying them and will stay for a week or two to help get them settled."

"James Watson like in Sherlock Holmes?" Dudley asked, interest perked.

"The Sherlock Holmes character was actually based upon my friend James," Helen confided. "He, like myself, underwent experiments with Vampire blood which activated latent Abnormal genes in us. For myself, it was agelessness. For James, it took his mind to new heights, which included inventions by which means he has also achieved an extraordinary long life."

"Cool," Dudley said, grinning. "Was it just you two, or were there more of you?"

"There were five of us in total, although not all were happy endings," Helen replied with a sad smile. "Nigel Griffith was another. Storybooks recall him as the Invisible Man, and while that was an incredible gift and certainly useful during the Great War, Nigel died of natural causes at a perfectly respectable age for a human."

"How about the other two?" Harry asked, clearly drawn into the tale.

"Nikola Tesla was the fourth of us," Helen continued. "If any of you were paying attention in primary school, I need not tell you how he has been historically recalled. Nikola was… is, brillant, although I don't see much of him these days. I do believe that had he been a wizarding child and gone to Hogwarts, he'd have been sorted to Slytherin. He never lacked ambition or cunning, and sometimes skirted moral concerns in his quest to achieve scientific greatness. As such, we often disagreed. For Nikola, the infusion of Vampire blood into his system activated latent Vampire traits in him, turning him into something of a hybrid. He need not worry about sunlight or any of that, but he possesses the intellect and physical prowess of the Vampires of ancient times. Mind you, these are a breed of Vampires long extinct. Even your Mister Dourif is merely a descendant of those sort, with a shadow of the qualities they once possessed."

"So Leland and Tesla are kind of cousins?" Emma asked.

"I suppose, after a sort," Helen allowed. "I'd not be surprised if they'd crossed paths before, to be honest. Nikola makes it his business to know all things Vampire, after all, although I believe Dourif could give him a run for his money in sheer willpower. I do believe that a desire to get one's own way is fairly inherent to the breed."

"How about the fifth?" Draco asked.

Helen was quiet for a moment, as if debating if she should tell them or not. Finally, she spoke. "John Druitt. He was the great disaster of our experiment, and I share this as a lesson to you all to take care in the forces you choose to muck about with. History remembers each of the five of us differently, and with exception to John, we're remembered in a fairly positive light. We've been some of the great thinkers of the age, some of us more in the limelight than others. History recalls John Druitt under the name the newspapers of London gave him when his powers of teleportation drove him to madness, and he began killing working women on a spree that lasted months, before the rest of us were brought in to put a stop to it. He was called Jack the Ripper."

"Bloody hell," Dudley breathed out.

Helen offered a sad smile at the teen. "That was about our reaction when we learned what he'd become as well."

Minerva looked up from her desk at the sound of a knock on her office door. The beginning of term was just around the corner and she was up to her eyeballs in work. She hadn't seen the children in days except in passing, although she'd been pleased when they'd reported their intention to continue residing in the Tower even once school resumed. Completely aside from the logistics of not having as much help with Vala, she wasn't ready to be away from the children yet. She knew, eventually, she'd have to allow them space, but she simply wasn't ready for the deafening quiet yet without Hermione there. Oh, how quickly she'd adapted to family life after so many years of living alone. "Enter!" she called.

It was Lucy, speaking of family. "I have a couple of things to discuss with you," the other woman said. "Can you spare the time?"

"Not really," Minerva admitted honestly, "however I will. I suspect whatever you need is a higher priority than the fifteen thousand things I ought to learn to delegate anyhow."

"Quite," Lucy agreed. "Filius is always at your disposal, as is his responsibility. Further, I'm sure Leland would be happy to help out if you asked. He doesn't want to step on your toes, but you must know he's dedicated to you."

"And clearly capable of running this school," the Headmistress agreed, thinking of how absurdly organized Leland had left things for her while she'd been unable to function in the first weeks after Hermione's death. "I may just hire him as a secretary."

"You act like he'd take a sickle from you."

Minerva laughed. "Fair point. Now, what can I do for you Lucy?" she asked, pointing to the chair opposite her.

"The simpler matter first," Lucy began. "Draco Malfoy and Helena. They have been effectively courting for several months now, especially if you factor in the time they were spending together prior to her reanimation, however the hell that even happened. I realize that you may find the whole system archaic, but my sister comes from an age when arranged marriages were expected, and Draco comes from a Pureblood lineage where arranged marriages still are expected. I believe, and I think my Mother would have agreed, that the two of them would appreciate it if you were to speak with Lucius and Narcissa about arranging a formal betrothal."

Her head was spinning. This was one of those moments where Minerva had to recognize that logic and emotion were two very separate entities, and how she felt about a thing - that arranging marriages was barbarism - did not make it so. For others, and in situations like Lucy had very reasonably pointed out, arranged marriage was not an unreasonable conclusion to come to. The whole concept of betrothals had been an idea Minerva had hoped never to need to contend with, prior to the war, but in her capacity as a member of the Council, she'd had to take part in deliberations regarding lineage propagation assurances, which usually involved a betrothal contract of some kind. While Draco and Helena were not in that position, Lucy did have reasonable points given their respective family backgrounds. For as much as she knew she'd cringe through the whole damn process, Lucy had also been right in that Hermione would have done the thing without a second thought, and therefore she needed to do so in Hermione's stead.

"That's a valid observation," Minerva replied. "I will want to speak with Helena first, to ensure it is what she wants, and I'd have a conversation with Narcissa about having the same conversation with Draco before paperwork is drawn up. However, if both Helena and Draco feel confident in the match, and Lucius and Narcissa are content in Helena as a future daughter-in-law, then I will see a betrothal through."

"Those are more than fair caveats," Lucy replied. "Mother probably wouldn't have been quite as diplomatic about it, barrelling forth and assuming the children would speak up if it wasn't what they wanted, but then again, you're not Mother."

"Assuredly not," the Scottish witch said, accent thick in her defense. "I must say I find it deeply ironic that I am, if one were to be technical, the older party between Hermione and myself, and yet given the oddity of her life experiences, it was she who was the more old fashioned."

"If it makes you feel any better, she thought your progressive views were endearing," the other woman replied with a small smile. "That being said, I did have other matters to discuss with you and I know your time is limited."

"Go on," Minerva encouraged.

"You're a Wardling, as am I," Lucy began. "This comes with some perks, but there are some pitfalls as well. I know Mother meant to teach you more about the powers you had because you were a Wardling, but with her gone, I feel that responsibility falls to me. There is still much you need to learn."

"Such as how to bring the castle to life in defense of the people inside of her," Minerva muttered, mind flashing back to the day of the battle, bitter regret coiling in her gut.

"Piertotum Locomotor," her step-daughter said. "That's a tricky bit of magic, but yes, we can make a priority of you learning it. That said, I was more thinking about the spells necessary for every Wardling to cast on their own soul to prevent them from remaining bound to the castle upon their death."

"Bound to the castle?" Minerva exclaimed. "What the bloody hell does that mean? As a ghost?"

"No, that would be kind," Lucy replied. "As a ghost, you'd be able to interact with others still. If a Wardling dies without casting certain spells, their soul is trapped within the wards of the castle. You're neither living nor dead, cursed to remain out of reach of life, and out of reach of the other side of the veil, but stuck in between, isolated. It's a shite situation and as such I think a bit paramount that you learn that particular spell first. Not that I suggest you go getting yourself killed anytime in the near future, you hear?"

"But better safe than eternally sorry?" Minerva asked, grasping the situation.

"Exactly," Lucy agreed. "That said, those two spells are just the tip of the iceberg of what I can teach you about Wardling magic. To be honest, I can probably teach you more than Mother could have done. I am a Wardling. She was a Founder, which is close, but not the same. I've also been around and studying magic a bit longer than she has, technically. I'd like to set up a regular time for us to meet and work on things, if that's possible."

Minerva opened up her planner. "Tuesdays seem to be my lightest day at present, especially if I shift a couple of things to Filius. I can probably clear an hour or two in the afternoons."

"I have regular drills with the Slayers at Longbottom Manor just after lunch on Tuesdays," Lucy replied. "However I am back in the castle by three thirty. Will that suit?"

"How about we plan on four," Minerva countered. "Severus tends to show up at my office every afternoon about three to go over things, and we usually run about forty-five minutes."

"Four works," came an easy agreement. "Now, Minerva, last thing…"

"Merlin, woman, more?"

Lucy sighed, but continued speaking. "I want you to remember that underneath this eternally young form, I am still Perenelle Flamel. I am still the woman who has known you since you were a girl, who has watched you grow, mentored you, taught you… Minerva McGonagall, I know you quite well and I know that you are burying yourself in work to hide from the pain. So I want you to tell me - no lies - how you are really doing."

And just like that, Minerva felt like a girl again, the image of Lucy Slytherin seeming not to matter as her brain registered the reality that the woman who'd been a second mother to her was there, ready to hold her as she cried. Whoever thought that there was a point in a person's life when they were too old to need their mum was dead bloody wrong, because with every fiber of her being, Minerva knew right now, for the first time in weeks, that she was safe and protected and most importantly, she was allowed to cry.

Her hands moved over her watering eyes. "It's been shite," she admitted softly. "I saw her bloody explode. I know she's gone, but something inside of me also knows that she's still here. How do I begin to grieve, to let go of the love of my life at all, much less when I can still feel her presence day in and day out?"

"She was a Founder of Hogwarts," Lucy said softly, moving to pull Minerva onto a sofa nearby so they could sit together. "I sometimes still feel my father here, too. I think that there's just a fundamental part of being a Founder which leaves something magically tangible behind. That doesn't make it easier by any means, but where there is understanding, there can be an allowance for grace."

"I wonder if Helena senses Rowena," Minerva sniffled.

"You could ask her," Lucy suggested. "Her sense of the magic in the castle would have been even more heightened when she was still a ghost. If anyone could understand what it is to still feel a tie to a loved one who was a founder, other than me of course, it would be her. Remember, Minerva, that much like me, while Helena may look like a girl, she has lived through the ages. She would be a solid confidant for you, should you feel inclined to seek such a relationship with her."

"I find myself in the same dilemma with her as I do with you," Minerva admitted. "It's difficult to see an equal in somebody who is effectively my step-daughter. At least with you, I had a relationship with you that did not involve knowledge of you being my lover's child, prior to learning of the connection. With Helena, while I knew her in passing as a ghost of Hogwarts, we hardly had a relationship to speak of until she became an active part in Hermione's life."

"Time travel is troublesome, isn't it?" Lucy jabbed. "Adding prophecy to the mix doesn't help either."

"How do you mean?"

"Cassandra Trelawney," the other woman explained. "I met her a number of years ago, when I was still very bitter at Mother for leaving me the way she did. She effectively explained to me through prophecy that Mother had always been meant to go back in time, then forward, and that it would pave the way to other things. She also foretold Helen's birth and the circumstances of that - which were more than a little convoluted, I'll have you know - as well as my meeting Remus. He is my salvation."

"Remus?"

"Yes. According to Cassandra, my relationship with him and the reclaiming of my given name will culminate in the ending of my immortality. Somehow, soon, I'll become mortal again. It's a freeing thought, after all this time."

"Are you certain you're not mortal already?" Minerva inquired. "I mean, if your immortality was because of your parents breaking off pieces of their souls for you, shouldn't it have expired once both of them died?"

"Perhaps," Lucy said with a small smile. "I'd not considered that. I can't say I'm inclined to test the theory though. I have a future with Remus to consider. He'd be a bit vexed with me if I died now."

Minerva crossed her arms. "I'd be vexed with you. Bugger Remus."

"I'd not wish more grief on you," the other woman said, pulling Minerva into a hug. "I plan to be here for a while still. For now though, just remember that I'm here for you. I may not have the wrinkles anymore, but I'm still the same Perenelle you've always known. You need not hide your pain from me."

With that thought, Minerva leaned into the embrace, and for the first time since the children had pushed her to pull herself together, she allowed herself to cry, the nearby pulse of magic that felt like Hermione seeming to fade away into the distance at Lucy's soft assurances.

Made my lovely Beta cry in this one. PLEASE REVIEW!