'... and the air was charged, you could feel it, like when you can taste a storm. Then, once you were safe, she did this.' Theo did vague impression of Hermione's violent, slicing wand movement.

'Boom!' Ginny agreed enthusiastically. 'I was right over the entrance. I could smell it - metallic and sweet and it was hot, like a summer day, and windy, like a train going past.'

'It was incredible, blew the dementors to pieces - little wisps of fabric everywhere.' Neville agreed.

Hermione shook her head, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

'It didn't kill them. Just... well, I suppose it did blow them apart, but they're non-beings. You can't kill something that isn't alive.'

'But it was still awesome.' Theo insisted, glowering at her. She shrugged.

'It was family magic; the combined magical residue of the family. The more family members that have their magic bound after death, the stronger the magic is. Mine isn't that powerful in the scheme of things.' She had never seen the Grindelwald family magic in action - it tended to respond best to dark magic and duelling, but she'd felt it stir occasionally in response to her own. There were over a thousand years where members of the Grindelwald family had harnessed the powers of their ancestors, and there were many of them. The Grindelwald line may have been reduced to two blood members this generation, but it had once been an extensive enough family to fill Blau Berg.

'So we all have it?' Harry asked. It was the first time he'd spoken during his friends' animated account of Hermione's actions in the stadium. He'd spent the visit staring at the shattered remains of his broomstick.

'Perhaps.' Hermione glanced at him, considering. 'It's controlled by the family head, and transfers with the title. Really, it depends if your ancestors bound their magic. Its... a very old fashioned thing to do and... well, it was widely accepted on the continent, but not so much here. As usual, the ministry labelled it as dark magic.' She scoffed.

'The Notts do... bind their ancestors, I mean.' Theo admitted, glancing around as if afraid he'd be overheard.

'Longbottoms too.' Neville agreed.

'My family don't.' Ginny snorted. 'I don't think my dad is even aware that it's something you can do. He'd probably call it necromancy.'

'It's not necromancy.' Neville objected immediately, affronted. Hermione rested a calming hand on his arm.

'No, it's not. But to the uneducated, any magic that concerns the dead is necromancy. They don't know enough to even understand that there are things you can do with dead other than unwilling reanimation.'

Neville's tense arm relaxed beneath her hand and she released him.

'But, you won't be able to access it until you're patriarch or you're ritually... it's complicated.'

'So Sirius has mine?' Harry asked, finally looking away for the broom. Hermione shook her head.

'No. The family magic doesn't discriminate over age. I've had mine since I was born, Berg's sister inherited hers when she was 14. If yours exists, it's dormant inside you.'

'Can you find it?' Harry asked eagerly, pulling himself up in the bed and placing the bundle of broomstick shards off to one side. Hermione eyed him speculatively, then shrugged and climbed up onto the bed, sitting opposite him with her legs crossed. She shuffled up to make room next to Ginny beside her, whilst Harry did the same for Neville. Theo shuffled his chair around and they all linked hands.

Immediately, her awareness of the other magics tripled. Working with the rest of their quintet was wildly different to working with Gellert, Berg, Anneken and Mordred. She didn't know whether it was some result of their upbringing, or genetics, or just coincidence but her aristocratic 19th century friends all had much more somber magic than her own. Gellert's was a dark, cool blue, Mordred's was even darker, although fiery as her own. Anneken's was supple silver and Berg was earthy brown. In fact, her bright white-gold flames were the anomaly in that group. Her modern friends were a dazzling rainbow of colours and vibrant sensations. Harry; blinding golden light, scalding hot and just as likely to burn you as warm you. Ginny with flames not quite as warm as Hermione but a vibrant orange-red which matched her hair and Theo who seemed to be almost as polar opposite her as Hermione was to Gellert, with his dark emerald, serpentine magic which seemed to spend most of it's time sunning itself, but could lash out with all the speed of a striking snake if Theo called upon it. Neville was the last to connect, his magic like a young tree; uncertain, blown this way and that by the hasty demands of those who didn't understand how to nurture his magic, yet slowly and surely growing into a mighty oak. They had almost nothing in common, yet Hermione shepherded them all into line anyway with the experience borne of channeling rituals.

Then, instead of channelling they joined magics like she usually did, she tried to lead them into herself, copying what Lady Grindelwald had once done to her. It was an uncomfortable sensation - as intrusive as legilimency, as though some had decided to perform an Egyptian mummification and was rummaging around in her intestines with a hook.

The year before, Hermione had been checked out by a St. Mungo's mind healer after Tom Riddle had forged an unwilling bond with her magic. It turned out that modern wixen, even if they did possess bonds beyond the marital bond, usually didn't actively recognise or use them, so she'd been the hub of the hospital as mind healers marvelled over her multitude of powerfully maintained bonds and the fact that she could consciously manipulate them.

Now, that proved to be a disadvantage as her friends, who didn't have the practice and familiarity that Hermione had, blundered through her magical core like bulls in a china shop. She winced as Harry accidentally tugged on her bond with Gellert, who clearly felt the sharp jerk even from distant Nurmengard and tugged in return. Then Ginny almost wandered down the sect bond and Hermione had to reign her in sharply because she dreaded to thing what would happen if anyone else accessed that ritual-formed bond, particularly with the protections her family often placed on things that they believed to be theirs.

She led her friends down, deep into her core to the dark nucleus that was her family magic. It slumbered, the wild winds of it's power calmed to a gently twisting breeze. She felt it rise momentarily, a tendril of ancient magic reaching out lazily like a slumbering dragon opening an eye to watch intruders into it's cave. It brushed up against each of them individually for just long enough to feel that it was not her - an ancient and seperate identity that whispered with the unearth combined voices of her ancestors. Then, seeming to decide that they weren't worth it's time, the magic returned to it's slumber.

She brought them back to the surface and opened her eyes, the pain in her crossed legs suddenly rising to her awareness as she realised that they must have been sitting for longer than anticipated.

'Wow.' Theo commented, rubbing at his eyes and shaking his shoulders.

'Awesome.' Ginny agreed. 'So it just wakes up when it feel like it, does what it wants and then goes back to sleep again?'

'Almost.' Hermione agreed, massaging at her guts subtly in an attempt to settle them after the uncomfortable experience. Her core seemed a little stirred up, almost as if she had apparated, she she carefully began smoothing and stoking it back to its usual intensity. 'Certain things interest it - rituals mostly, but large pieces of witchcraft too. Powerful emotions, like fear and anger will awaken in too and it usually... an alliance. I can suggest what I want it to do and it might do it.'

'So do I have family magic?' Harry asked eagerly, his eyes clenched shut. He flailed around with his magic, knocking a get well card off his bedside table and ruffling the pillow on the next door bed.

'Harry!' Neville scolded, slapping away a wild tendril with one of his own branches of magic. 'You're not doing it right. You need to be a bit more meditative.'

'Meditative?' Theo asked dryly. Neville blushed a little bit, then rallied his courage and crossed his arms.

'Yes. Meditative. He needs to look inside his core, not wave his magic around.' Neville affirmed stubbornly.

'I would say "meditative" is relaxing you core.'

'I think.' Hermione interrupted the budding debate, 'that Neville is correct.' The Gryffindor boy shot Theo a smug look whilst the Slytherin leaned back in his chair sulkily. 'In the way that you look at us on the magical plane, you need to try to look at yourself. Your magic won't do it naturally, it will try to look below, above, behind - anywhere but inside, but you'll need to get the hang of it anyway if you want to do self-transfiguration wandlessly anyway.'

'More work...' Neville moaned. 'You realise just how much homework Trelawney set us last week? We've got to analyse every cup of tea that we drink.'

'There is a solution to that.' Theo pointed out, a smug smirk painted across his face. He'd taken great pleasure in the 'easy subject' of divination requiring more homework than Arithmancy.

'Don't drink tea?' Ginny snickered, earning a doleful look from Neville and a considering one from Harry.

'Good idea.' The Boy-Who-Lived praised. 'I mean, it's not like she knows when we've drunk tea. I'll just change the dates on the ones I've already done.'

Theo and Hermione rolled their eyes at Ginny. The younger witch had already decided to follow them into Arithmancy rather than bothering with divination.

They lapsed into silence for a moment, interrupted only by the faint clinking of vials in Madam Pomfrey's office.

'We're going to learn the patronus as soon as you're allowed out, Harry.' Hermione announced, the others looked at her in surprise. 'I'll write to Berg. He can teach us over Yule.'

'Oh!' Ginny exclaimed, perking up. 'Are we doing that...' She glanced over at Madam Pomfrey's office, the lowered her voice. 'Are we going to do the Yule ritual again?'

'Absolutely.' Hermione confirmed, then she grinned evilly and glanced at Neville. 'And you're not escaping the Malfoy Ball this year.'

Ginny paled as Neville realised what Hermione meant.

'Oh yes.' The Longbottom heir agreed, 'Ginevra Weasley, would you do me the honour of attending the ball with me?'

'Hey!' Theo protested, shoving at his arm. 'I was going to ask her.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

'What about me?' She asked archly, adopting a dramatised expression of offence and clutching her hand to her chest as though pained.

'You?' Theo asked, laughing. 'I wouldn't dare steal you away from my father.'

Ginny snorted.

'I think your father would prefer to take another witch to the ball this year.'

Theo choked on his own tongue and spent several seconds spluttering as Neville walloped him on the back, looking supremely cheerful.

'Who?' The Slytherin finally wheezed.

'Anneken Krum, of course.'

'What?' Harry demanded, looking between the two purebloods. 'Lord Nott is into Lady Krum?'

'Oh yes. I saw her leaving the master bedroom on the night of the Avalon ball.' Ginny looked triumphantly around. Clearly, Neville had also known and Hermione had had her suspicions but Harry and Theo had clearly been utterly oblivious. Harry had adopted the visage of a fish, gaping soundlessly whilst Theo had buried his head into the mattress near Harry's knees, his ears burning a telltale shade of pink.

'I think its rather sweet.' Hermione decided breezily. 'They're both widowers...'

'There's a fifty year age gap!' Theo moaned.

'Well yes,' Hermione acknowledged.

'They're both old and grey.' Ginny pointed out. 'And Anneken doesn't even look half her age.'

'There's a 98 year age gap between Gellert and I and we're courting.'

'Eww!' Ginny wrinkled her nose whilst both pureblood boys choked.

'You're courting him?' Theo demanded, his eyes bugging. The matter of Anneken and his father completely forgotten.

'Well, we are in 1896.'

'That's different!' Ginny argued. 'I mean, really, he's only a year older than you then. And Parvati says he was really good looking as your boggart.'

'Ginny!' Harry exclaimed, sounding outraged.

'He is.' Hermione agreed. 'And I'm still working on how to make him young again.'

'You're planning to reverse age him?' Neville asked dubiously. 'I mean, I suppose it's possible. If an aging potion exists, that there might be something that works the other way.'

'That's why Nicholas Flamel gave you his notes!' Theo realised suddenly, 'because they contain the secret to eternal life.'

Hermione gave him a mysterious smile and Theo grinned.

'There are some hurdles.' Hermione admitted. 'Flamel's elixir only worked on those pure of soul and magic and of course it didn't make him younger, it just stopped him dying.'

'Pff.' Theo waved his hand dismissively. 'You're Hermione Granger, High Priestess of Gorlois and Ward of Gellert Grindelwald. You'll figure it out.'