When Hermione bounced through the floo the next morning, all three of her wizarding classmates were waiting. Silently, Neville passed her a copy of the daily prophet.

"Darling of darkness: Grindelwald defends beloved ward before wizangamot."

Below the headline, which had been printed so large that it took up almost a third of the page was a moving image. She remembered the exact moment that the photograph had been taken - The photographer had managed to lean over the barrier of aurors and had shoved the camera towards them, the reporter beside him screaming questions. She'd found herself in Gellert's protective embrace as he spat a German threat at the photographer before the aurors had managed to get him away. The image played in a constant loop as Gellert snarled at the camera, then his expression softened as he looked down at her to check that she was okay. To her credit, Hermione decided that she didn't look too bad either - not like the damsel in distress. Her face was almost expressionless until Gellert looked down at her and she smiled up at him.

'What does it say about us?' She asked, flicking over to the next page and realising that the article covered no less than three pages.

'It's rather factual. They're probably too frightened of you both to speculate.'

Hermione looked up to see Sirius Black leant up against the doorframe. He'd washed and been lent a pair of clean robes. They were old fashioned and a little too short but he still looked miles better than he had mere days ago.

'I wasn't sure I even believed you... this is just weird.' Sirius said, gesturing to the paper. 'It says he actually hugged you.'

'He did. I'll admit that he was nothing like what I have heard of him.' Lord Nott had arrived too, Anneken at his tail. Hermione looked between the two of them suspiciously; it was very early for Anneken to have already travelled from Germany.

'Gellert has been devoted to Hermione for as long as he's known her. He'd burn the world for her.' Anneken swanned further into the room and double checked her appearance in the mirror before opening the vase of floopowder.

'You first, Hermione.' Anneken held out the jar to her and Hermione took a handful, departing the manor in a swirl of emerald flame.

She reappeared in the Leaky Cauldron. Hogwarts letters had yet to arrive so the usually busy pub was mostly empty. The rest of her friends and allies tumbled through, arranging themselves around her in a vast crowd of fine robes. Sirius Black bounded through in dog form, tail wagging excitedly as he shook soot across the room. Slightly further down the line, Ginny Weasley catapulted out of one of the other floos, her hair in disarray and her cheeks red with exertion.

'Sorry, Hermione. Mum's been yelling at Fred and George all morning.' The younger witch panted.

'That's fine. You're not late.' Hermione glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was five to nine, so they had plenty of time before they risked whatever Gellert had seen being bought by someone else.

With the whole group assembled, and once Anneken had made a valiant effort at trying to put Ginny's mane in order, they traipsed out into the street. It was early so the shop owners were just opening up. A rotund man in potion stained robes levitated barrels of ingredients outside the apothecary and an acne plagued young adult heaved owl cages up onto hooks outside Eyelops Owl Emporium. They drew lots of attention with so many recognisable faces; Ginny's crimson hair was a bright flash of colour against the dark colours that everyone else wore and Black bounded excitedly between them, sniffing every door and barrel with remarkable stamina for someone who'd been imprisoned for over a decade. Hermione could feel the eyes on her, but whenever she looked the watchers turned away abruptly. Everyone knew just who she was related to now.

They reached the Magical Menagerie, crowding in through the cages and crates. Lively, excited discussion was lost to the cacophony of screeching, squealing and hissing. Hermione made her way straight to the counter, clearing her throat to get the attention of the shopkeeper, who was absorbed in reading the morning paper.

He looked up, face paling when he matched her to the girl on the front page. It was more than a little irritating that her plan to keep the ministry off her back had the side effect of terrifying the public.

'Good morning. I was hoping to see what came in in your latest shipment?' She asked, doing her best to sound like any other excited child looking at getting a pet. The man looked at her with wide eyes, swallowed twice and then twisted away, tipping his head back and bellowing up the stairs behind the desk.

'Shane, get down here quickly!' A moment later a second man, presumably Shane, clattered down the stairs. He wore thick leather chaps and protective dragon hide gloves that ran up to his elbows. There was a nasty scar running along his hairline, which might have made him look terrifying if it weren't for the cheerful sparkle in his blue eyes and the yellow polka dot bow tie.

'Who's this?' He asked, holding his hand out to shake. The glove was covered in some kind of excrement, which Shane only seemed to realise after a moment of hesitancy from Hermione. He yanked it off with a chuckle, and Hermione shook his hand.

'Hermione.' Hermione replied, 'I'm looking for something... I'm not sure what though, but my guardian is a seer and he said I would find a familiar in your shipment today?'

'A seer eh?' Shane asked, a grin lighting up his features even further. Hermione couldn't help but like the man. 'Well, I suppose in that case you can come back and have a look... we did get a shipment last night.'

Hermione glanced back at Lord Nott, who detached from the shadows and ghosted down the staircase with her, following the figure of Shane. They emerged into a large underground stock room; powerful ventilation charms kept the air fresh despite no less than four potions with bubbling concoctions and shelves of various ingredients and products. Shane led them past everything and to a row of dark crates at the back.

'Come on girlie, take a look. It's not often we get to match a true familiar.' Shane urged. He grabbed a metal crowbar and began levering the top off the closest crate. Hermione peered inside; a litter of black kittens, each with glowing amber eyes. She shook her head firmly and Shane shrugged, unbothered as he began working open the next crate.

They opened all of them to find all manner of marvellous creatures; salamanders, pixies and snidgets, cats and rats, pigeons and parrots. Yet nothing seemed special to Hermione; perhaps Gellert had been wrong?

She put her hands on her hips, surveying the room as Shane bit his lip.

'What's in that one?' She asked, pointing to another crate. It had been pushed right into the darkest corner of the room, near the door.

'Don't look!' Shane shouted, before she could make her way over. 'It's got to go back and be released. Terribly unlucky.'

'What is it?' Hermione insisted, her curiosity piqued.

'An omen!' Shane whispered, 'I've never seen one before, never want to again.' He looked around furtively. Hermione's eyes began to creep wide.

'Not... oh, I think I know.'

Ignoring Shane's nervous babbling, she crossed to the crate and peered down. In the dim light, she could just see a little pile of white fluff, curled up impossibly tightly in the straw. It looked up when she appeared over the crate, two pink eyes blinking blearily up at her. Then it yipped, clambering up onto four oversized paws.

'A white grim!' She breathed, reaching in and picking up the small creature. It's little tail wagged so enthusiastically that the whole body writhed like a snake. 'Oh, you're perfect.'

'Merlin's moustache...' Shane muttered behind her. She spun to face him, beaming and holding the puppy out for the inspection of Lord Nott, who stood behind the shop keeper.

'She's mine. Gellert was right.' Hermione informed them both. 'How much do you want for her?'

'Merlin's moustache.' Shane repeated, still looking faint. 'You sure you want it?'

'Absolutely.' The young witch beamed, tucking the puppy under her arm. It took the opportunity to plaster every accessible inch of her chin and neck with licks from it's little pink tongue. Shane looked to Lord Nott for confirmation, perhaps assuming that he was her guardian.

'Her guardian sent her here, and he knew exactly what she'd find.' Lord Nott answered with a shrug.

They returned to the shop with the puppy, Shane the shopkeeper still stuttering behind them. Hermione's entire group crowded around the counter when they emerged, shepherded by Anneken. Her friends were generally exceptionally mature for their age, but the elderly witch looked a little frazzled and Theo had feathers in his hair. It looked a bit like Ginny had been fighting too - her hair was messed up again and her cheeks were flushed with fury.

When they saw what Hermione was holding, there was a collective round of coos and then Sirius jumped up with his paws on the counter, peering at the miniature of his animagus form.

'Bleeding heck. You've already got one.' Shane muttered, pulling parchment and quills from the desk. The other shopkeeper; the one who'd been at the desk when Hermione arrived cursed and stumbled backwards, his hand clutching at his chest.

'My family used to keep a pack of them.' Hermione laughed, watching as he filled in what was clearly a receipt. 'How much do I owe you?'

'Well...'

'Shane...' The other shopkeeper interrupted with a hiss, nudging the paper conspicuously. The massive headline glared up from above Gellert's scowling face, her own countenance wrapped securely in the dark wizard's arms. Shane glanced at the paper, then glanced at Hermione, then glanced at the paper again.

'It's nothing. Free.' Shane said abruptly, shoving the parchment and quill at her.

'Don't be silly.' Hermione chided. 'Even a runt Grim is rare. Don't deny Gellert the opportunity to spend money on me.'

For a couple of seconds, Shane dithered; torn between not wanting to charge so much that he offended her, and not wanting to charge so little that it offended her.

'Tell you what, let's go for three hundred galleons... you've got owls for about seventy, so for something this rare...' Hermione took the quill and filled the number into the relevant boxes, then signed her name and pressed her seal into the blob of wax at the bottom. She then passed the parchment back to Shane, who was doing an excellent imitation of a fish.

'Three hundred galleons... but it's a runt. They don't even charge that for a racing broom.' Shane protested.

'Think of it as two hundred then, plus a hundred for your solemn promise to notify me if you get any more Grims in. I'd quite like to have another.' Hermione reasoned, pushing the parchment towards him again. Reluctantly, Shane signed and a moment later Hermione left the shop with her new familiar curled up in her arms.

'What happened?' Hermione asked once they were back in the brightly lit street. There were a couple more errands to run before their lunch meeting, and the children trailed behind Lord Nott and Anneken with an exuberant Black taking up the rear. Hermione cradled her new familiar in her arms; the excitement of meeting her seemed to have worn the little puppy out, and it had fallen asleep in her embrace.

'My mum came in to buy some rat tonic. Scabbers is getting sick.' Ginny explained, 'I told her I was meeting friends, but I didn't say who. She wasn't very happy to find out that I was still hanging around with you lot.'

'Why not?' Harry asked, always obtuse.

'Because they think we're corrupting you with our evil magic.' Theo drawled.

'But that's silly. You don't use any evil magic.' Harry scoffed, missing Theo's eyes snapping to his father.

'That's because you understand it, Harry.' Hermione explained. 'But there's lots of people out there who like to stick labels on things they don't understand.'

'You can sort of sympathise.' Neville pointed out after a moment. 'I mean, dark magic does exist, but classifying what is dark magic can be quite difficult.'

'No it's not.' Ginny scoffed. 'Dark magic is any magic with the sole intent to harm - like a killing curse.'

'Its a bit more tricky than that, Ginny.' Theo pointed out, digging his hands into the pockets of his robes. 'A killing curse causes instant, painless death. We use it to slaughter cattle on the farm because its much more humane than cutting their throats like muggles.'

Ginny bit her lip, looking down at her feet as she considered his words.

'What about the torture curse?' She asked eventually, 'or the imperius?'

'Dark, definitely. But there's worse out there - blood bindings and curses that do horrible things. Rituals that require human sacrifice and others that only effect the children.'

'Human sacrifice isn't necessarily dark.' Hermione objected quietly. Sirius Black growled, his lips pulling up over white teeth. 'It's not. People used to give themselves up for use in protection rituals in the medieval times - they used to use them all the time during medieval sieges. That's no worse than a knight going out to war to protect his family?'

Black growled again.

'Let's not talk about this here.' Neville suggested as they entered Flourish and Blotts.

Hermione agreed and she spent several minutes among the shelves with her friends, picking out books to help study for their new subjects. She'd eventually settled on Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Theo had decided to take exactly the same, whilst Harry and Neville had chosen Divination instead of Arithmancy.

'Are there any runic languages you don't know?' Neville demanded as Hermione discarded yet another book on Futhark with a derisive comment on syntax.

'Asian Oracle, Cuneiform, Egyptian Hieroglyphics.' Hermione reeled off, picking up a book on the latter language. She'd learned a lot about ancient Egyptian magic in her two week holiday with the Flamels, but the language was still a mystery to her. Her answer earned her an eye roll and a scowl. She put the book on Hieroglyphics back and selected one on Cuneiform instead, which was a more complex language but far more likely to be useful. She also found a reasonably good ogham dictionary which she handed to Theo, who'd shown great interest in the subject.

'I wonder what we'll learn in Care of Magical Creatures?' Neville asked, browsing through one of the most extensive sections of the book shop. There were literally hundreds of books; some were general guides, others specific to types and species or habitats, some were breeding and care guides, many were extermination manuals and still more contained legal information, harvesting instructions... Hermione picked up Cavorting with Canines by Wulfram Lurch, paging through to find several handy charms to remove dog hair and magically clip claws. She put the book aside and selected Magical Dogs and How to Train Them.

Once they'd made their purchases and Theo had gallantly offered to carry her bags, they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Madam Bones was already waiting, Albus Dumbledore dressed in a conspicuous lavender robe beside her. They were discussing a bill on werewolves, which was a matter that apparently concerned Lord Nott, as a major producer of both Aconite, Dittany and Valerian. The Nott family specialised in producing commercial quantities of many potion ingredients, and often worked closely with the Malfoy family who owned a number of brewing labs and apothecaries. Recently, Hermione knew that Lord Nott had also begun to coordinate more recently with Lady Longbottom's experimental breeding greenhouses to produce more potent and hardier crops.

Bored, the children sat at their end of the table to coo over Hermione's new familiar, which had just awoken and was blearily licking at their fingers.

'Half an hour later, a man stumbled through the floo and approached their table. He had white hair that flew around his ears like a mad scientist and and odd way of walking as if he hadn't decided whether he really wanted to be moving forwards.

'Mr Scamander!' Madam Bones greeted warmly, rising from her chair to shake his hands. Scamander shook it eagerly, putting his battered case down to do so. 'You know of Lord Nott of course, and this is Hermione Gorlois and her friends; Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Ginevra Weasley and Theodore Nott.'

Mr Scamander shook all of their hands with the same twitchy excitability.

'Remarkable, wonderful to meet you Mr Potter. Do tell your Grandmother that I'm a great fan of her benign tentacula plants, Mr Longbottom.'

He hesitated when he came to Hermione, shaking her hand just as he'd done for everyone else but not seeming to have any enthusiastic greeting for her. There was a moment of tension, then Sirius jumped up, propping his front paws on the table and letting out a deep bark.

'A grim! How fascinating.' Mr Scamander enthused, petting him on the head and scratching behind one droopy ear.

'Do you know much about Grims, Mr Scamander?' Hermione asked in an effort to break the ice between them.

'Not much; I'm afraid I've never been fortunate enough to observe one up close.' Scamander answered without looking up from Sirius' paws. The animagus patiently put up with the magizoologist as his tail was measured and his jaws opened to count his teeth.

'We've just picked up a puppy form the Magical Menagerie.' Hermione informed him in an attempt to rescue Sirius from the examination. 'We were very lucky that Gellert saw it coming in.'

'Grindelwald... yes... Oh, it's white!'

With Scamander's attention shifted onto the wriggling puppy, conversation shifted to the matter of the basilisk. The decision had been made to coordinate the movement of the dangerous creature with the ministry registration of Avalon as a place of magical residence.

'Mr Scamander, are you equipped to deal with the Basilisk?'

'Certainly, certainly. Much easier than an erumpent.' Scamander nodded quickly, bouncing back up to his feet. 'I've been working on a nice habitat for it, lots of large rocks for it to sun on.'

'A habitat?' Hermione demanded sharply, glancing between him and Dumbledore.

'Every creature deserves a good life. Just because it isn't one that you think is pretty...'

'I gave my word and the minister agreed that Apophis would live out the rest of her days in my home.' Hermione cut him off coldly. 'We will be moving her to Avalon, where she will be more comfortable than she would ever be in a magically expanded crate.'

Scamander blinked at her in surprise.

'Miss Granger, Newt is an experienced magizoologist with world leading experience in the care of dangerous beasts. He can keep the basilisk safe and I am sure fulfil your promise.' Dumbledore tried to reason. Hermione turned cold eyes on him.

'And when he dies? I think not, Dumbledore. The snake will come to Avalon as I agreed with the minister.'

'If I might suggest that we get... Apophis, was it? Well, we could get Apophis' opinion on the matter?' Scamander suggested, looking between the two nervously. Hermione tossed her hair but agreed, knowing that she was bound to care for the snake to the best of her ability. Dumbledore did unfortunately have a point; Hermione was not an expert in the care of snakes but at least she had the advantage of a friend who spoke parseltongue. Finally, the headmaster agreed as well, and they all stood to head to the floo.

They landed in Hogwarts castle to find it's halls eerily silent. The portraits still spoke and visited one another but she'd never actually noticed the quiet muttering before. They made their way quickly to the girl's bathroom, but instead of sliding down the nasty, slimy pipe, Hermione tugged on the bond to bring the serpent slithering up towards them.

The first thing that Hermione noticed when it emerged, coiling like suspension cable through the room and collapsing toilet stalls with it's immense bulk, were the glowing yellow eyes. The second thing that she noticed was that she was still alive. Logically, the basilisk had some kind of protective eyelid or it would have been impossible for even a parseltongue to control one without risking death, but it was still a relief that her failure to look away hadn't resulted in her untimely death.

'Morgana's silver staff.' Madam Bones uttered, stumbling backwards out of the door as the snake finally finished slithering out of the plumbing.

Outside the massive chamber of secrets, with the trappings of civilised human life to act as a scale, Hermione realised just how massive the basilisk really was. She'd had to go up on her tiptoes to knight it, and now it had to touch it's chin to the floor to look into her eyes. She barely suppressed a fearful shudder as the glowing irises met her own.

'Apophis, this is Mr Scamander. He looks after lots magical creatures and he's generously agreed to help move you to Avalon. That's Madam Bones outside; she's a representative of the magical government who's here to make sure that you're safe in your new home and that is Professor Dumbledore over there; he's the headmaster.' Hermione pointed to the three important adults in turn and then introduced her allies, all of whom were separated by coils of poisonous green scales. The basilisk hissed, which was then interpreted by a distant Harry as being a greeting.

'Er... right, good morning, Apophis. There's some spells in my case here, one I open it, you'll be sucked inside, where you'll find a nice woodland to stay in whilst we travel.' Scamander, either very brave or slightly foolish, stumbled forwards and waved his briefcase. The basilisk's citrine eyes followed the movement of the leather object and a long, crimson tongue flickered out to taste the air around it.

'She asks if Hermione is sure.' Harry yelled, then shouted incoherently as the gleaming bulk shifted and he appeared up near the windows, clinging onto the basilisk's tail for dear life.

'I'm sure. Mr Scamander would never hurt a fly.' Hermione assured. The snake gave an unmistakable nod and Scamander placed the case carefully on the ground. He angled it towards the snake, then opened the latches with a tap of his wand. At first, nothing happened, then when the basilisk nosed towards the opening, it began to stretch, becoming long and thin and blurry. With a noise like a balloon being blown up, the snake disappeared into the case and Scamander shut it with a snap when the last whip of green tail was inside.

'Phew.' Theo panted, sagging down from the wall he'd been pressed up against and climbing over the smashed sinks.

'Phew.' Anneken agreed. 'But I'd just love to get my hands on some of that shed skin. The scale pattern is stunning.'

With the snake collected, they headed back up to Dumbeldore's office to partake in a soothing cup of tea... or perhaps something stronger. Hermione was surprised when Newt Scamander dropped back beside her.

'You're not much like Mr. Grindelwald at all, you know?' He said after a moment of awkward silence. 'He never much cared for anything he thought of as lesser.'

Hermione glanced up, realising that the magizoologist's blue eyes held warmth and kindness and that he had been attempting to complement her with his statement.

'I think that the Gellert I know is very different to the Gellert that everyone else knows.' She eventually said carefully.

'I do believe you're right.' Scamander's eyes wrinkled as his lip quirked up at one side. He pulled a clipping of a newspaper out of his pocket and unfolded it with one hand. This one held a different image; a tender shot of her and Gellert comparing their scarred wrists through the courtroom doors. Hermione unconsciously reached out and brushed her finger over the inked surface where Gellert's silver hair brushed over his shoulders. 'The Grindelwald that I fought was good at pretending he cared for people, but this looks rather real.'

'May I keep it?' She found herself asking.

'Certainly. It's from the quibbler - they might give you the original if you ask.'

Scamander handed her the picture and she carefully tucked it into her own robes.

'So, you have two rather remarkable creatures... is there any chance I might be able to study them at some point?' Scamander asked eagerly and she could almost see his fingers itching to go for parchment.

'I have a Longma as well.' Hermione informed him with a smile.

'Fully grown?' Scamander asked, eyes wide with excitement.

'Over a century. I'll introduce you; he stays in Avalon most of the time now.'

'Remarkable. And Grindelwald supports all this?' Scamander waved his hand in a gesture that encompassed everything - her friends, the school and the animals. Hermione smiled.

'Gellert knows that he has no right to judge me or my decisions.' She informed him. 'He failed in his duty to protect the people when he forgot that culture does not define our value.'

'So you believe in the same old values and traditions as he did?' Scamander asked, a note of disappointment in his voice.

'I believe in what he used to believe, before his morals were twisted by dark magic.' Hermione replied carefully, 'in old magic and the ambient power of the seasons, in collective strength and the responsibility of the strong to protect the weak.'

'Your beliefs are similar. I attended one of his rallies, you know?' They walked a little further in silence. Hermione hadn't known that Scamander - Dumbledore's darling hero - had heard her guardian speak in his prime.

'I have not studied events in depth.' Hermione admitted. Newt Scamander looked over at her and Hermione got an unusual feeling that he was seeing more than her skin.

'Dumbledore told me that you were a dark witch.' Scamander admitted, pausing at the foot of the spiralling gargoyle. 'But the Americans once labelled all breeders of magical creatures as dark as well, simply because they didn't understand them.'

The magizoologist stepped onto the moving staircase and Hermione hastily followed him.

'I will owl you my notes on grims and my research on basilisks. I would be grateful if you could let me know of anything interesting you discover whilst looking after them.'

Theodore's sharp laugh cut through the gentle offer from where her classmate had waited at the top of the stairs.

'Be careful with that offer, Mr. Scamander, otherwise Hermione will write a new creatures book.' Her classmate offered her his arm as she reached level with him and she took it, allowing him to escort her through the door and into the office.

Their next stop was Avalon itself. She deliberately didn't invite the headmaster, uncomfortable with allowing him into her sanctuary despite the knowledge that he'd see it in under a week, along with every witch and wizard in the country if the RSVPs were anything to go by.

They flooed to Nott Manor where they were met by uniformed Nott Elves with tea and little sandwiches to eat whilst they walked.

Unlike with the Goblins, they didn't have the convenient excuse of different languages to separate them into parties so they ended up engaging in awkward, stilted conversation all the way down the long, winding path. Hermione's new puppy woke up again for five minutes and amused them by careening through the wild garlic with Sirius in hit pursuit, but before long she was asleep again; fur stained green and drooling delicately down Hermione's robes. Grim saliva, she soon discovered, was copious yet odourless and conveniently vanished itself after a couple of seconds.

She opened the portal confidently, stepping through with her hands knotted into Black's fur; the animagus had never used the antiquated travel method before. Lord Nott accompanied Madam Bones whilst Newt Scamander happily allowed Anneken to take him through.

The courtyard of Avalon castle never failed to impress her, despite having visited several times now. Today though, in anticipation of the visit by the ministry, the castle elves and undead servants had gone above and beyond in their attempts to show off. The guards that usually stood stationed around the courtyards and battlements were doubled, dressed in freshly polished armour with luxurious blue cloaks that rippled in the afternoon breeze, which swept up the lake from the sea, bringing the smell of salt and summer. The standing stones around the portal gate had been freshly washed and the beds of heather weeded and trimmed into fluffy purple clouds.

She had barely a minute to realise that explaining all the undead to the ministry would be difficult, before the aforementioned official stumbled out of the portal.

Madam Bones took a deep breath, looked resentfully back at the silvery gate and then finally looked up at the towering castle.

'Morgana's mantle...' She uttered, neck craning up to peer at the top of the tallest tower.

'What creatures are these?' Scamander asked, quickly noticing the figures around them and drawing Madam Bones' attention downward as well.

'An ancient enchantment - it was some kind of honour to be allowed to continue to serve and protect the city even after death, back in the days of Morgana and Merlin. They're capable of independent thought and they mostly keep to themselves; there's barracks and common rooms and such available to them.' Hermione explained as the captain of the guard clanked over, bowing deeply.

'Fascinating - do they require magical maintenance?' Madam Bones asked, the same expression of morbid curiosity as Lady Grindelwald had worn when she first met them.

'Not to maintain their existence, but they do often get injured and ask for skelegro.'

'Well... It might have been necromancy at the time but we can hardly charge you because of something your ancestors did in the 6th century. Do you have elves?'

'Yes.' Hermione nodded to Lord Nott, who had prepared the paperwork for the registration of the twenty house elves that Flighty had employed. Hermione had bonded to all of them, but had otherwise barely seen them. They entered through the massive front doors and found the elves awaiting inspection, all dressed in freshly starched aprons over their woad-blue tunics. At the head of the row stood Flighty and Beastie, leaning on their walking canes.

There was a brief inspection. Madam Bones had a clipboard and she checked the information of each elf. A pretty thing with a bonnet was Flighty's granddaughter and was in charge of the household whilst Bobby and Bippet were twin elves and head of maintenance. They wore tool belts with hammers and secateurs as marks of their rank.

Once the elves had been registered, it became time to register the floo.

The massive fireplace had been built in less than a week by a team of goblins, carved out of the strange, seamless rock of the colossal curtain walls that encircled the courtyard. They'd done a spectacular job of it; the fireplace was flanked by massive stone grims which they had carefully designed to carry an enchantment which would sense intent of anyone passing between them and animate them to defend the castle should it be necessary. The hearth itself had been decorated by intricate Celtic knots which disguised the ogham runes of a number of more complex wards and enchantments which would allow Hermione to be able to close the floo completely.

Madam Bones had a checklist of things to look at both in and around the fireplace - dimensions, integrity, length of chimney, construction material and some mysterious variable called magical dispersion which required a number of spells which glowed either gold or blue.

Then, the official registration was done. Hermione could, if she so chose, submit an inventory to the ministry incase of break ins and theft; she wouldn't. She could also register blueprints and floor plans and grounds maps incase she ever needed assistance. Again, Hermione refused.

Then the clipboard was put away and several skeletons appeared with Katana, Lord Nott's broomstick and a couple of Anneken's Granians. She bit her lip to hide her exasperation when she saw that Katana's gleaming scales had been painted with swirling decorations like war paint. Nevertheless, she mounted up and watched as Scamander did the same with relative ease. Madam Bones managed with more than adequate grace. Neville, who hated broomsticks, also clambered up onto a Granian whilst Harry and Theo pulled out their broomsticks.

When they took off, the city sprawled out before them like ink spilling from a pot. Madam Bones looked around them in awe as Hermione led the way on a long, gentle flight around the towers and spires of the castle. The whole island was shaped a little like a door wedge - the eastern end slipped out of the water as a series of shell-encrusted beaches, blending into short fuzzy grass which rose up to become a swath of woodland which swept uphill along the increasingly sheer northern cliffs. The southern edge was cleared; currently overgrown, the faint trenches and mounds of fields still rippled beneath the grass. Then the city started; a thick wall, about as tall as a two-story house which cut from cliff to cliff across the island and was bisected by a sturdy gatehouse. The land then swept upwards sharply, speckled with houses and coiled with more curtain walls which could be retreated behind if outer ones fell. Finally, the castle crowned the island, perched on the western end where mighty cliffs already towered over the sparkling water. There was no clear definition of where castle ended and cliff began, and some of the towers hung precariously out over the void.

Dug into the cliffs were a number of caves which Hermione knew had once housed dragons. They were only accessible by air, but without their draconian residents they were a serious security risk as anyone with a broomstick could get deep beneath the foundations of the city.

She brought them down to the woods, setting down in the scrubland just before the treeline. Like Britain had been before the desperate shipbuilding of the tudors, the woodland was primarily oak and there was plenty of room for even the gigantic basilisk beneath the ancient boughs. Snarls of blackberry grew along the fringes, but a couple of well placed slashes by the razor talons of Katana's wings had the narrow entrance cut into the dappled woods.

'Suitable?' Hermione asked Scamander, who answered by climbing off his Granian and placing his briefcase on the ground. As soon as he opened it, the snake began to expand out headfirst like an elementary balloon animal.

It was making pleased hisses before it's tail had even escaped the trunk.

'There's several caves in that direction.' Hermione informed her, pointing towards the northern side of the island. 'And you'll find some nice rocks there too. I believe the woods are well stocked with deer, but I'd appreciate it if you could be sparing with the cattle.'

The snake hissed; a long, convoluted soliloquy which was embellished with tongue flicking and tail slapping.

'Apophis says thank you, and says that she is very grateful and that if you need her assistance at any time, she would be more than happy to help.' Harry translated, then hesitated and amended. 'Well, there was a bit more to it than that, but I got the gist.'

'Wonderful.' Hermione curtsied to the snake, which then slithered away into the woods to explore it's new home. The young witch turned to her companions. 'Is that all.'

'I believe so.' Madam Bones sighed heavily. 'What a day...'