On the last Sunday of term, just before the Hogsmeade trip, a viscous looking bird flew in with the rest of the owl post. It circled once around the hall, then deposited the letter at the Gryffindor table. Harry had cautiously detached it and spent several minutes staring at the seal before getting up and heading over to the Slytherin table, ignoring the sibilant hisses of protest of Hermione's housemates.

'I think the owl got lost.' He informed her, passing over the letter. She recognised the seal instantly, then flipped the letter over to see Harry's name written on the front in Gellert's careful calligraphy.

'No, it's definitely for you.' She said, raising her eyebrows as she passed it back to him. Mystified, Harry opened the letter, scanning over it's contents. His eyes got wider and wider with every line.

'Did you know?' Harry asked. Hermione cocked her head and held her hand out for the letter. She had no idea why Gellert Grindelwald would be writing to Harry Potter of all people. After barely a moment of reading, her eyes matched Harry's. Wordlessly, she passed it along to Theo who barked out a laugh before clapping his hand over his mouth.

'I can't believe it. Surely he can't believe he'll get it? I mean, the Dark Wizard Grindelwald with guardianship of the Boy-Who-Lived?'

'I believe it's guardianship by the Grindelwald family, not Gellert himself. That would mean Anneken.' Hermione replied, barely managing to contain her own incredulous reaction.

'So you knew?' Harry demanded.

'That Gellert was going to put in a bid? No.' Hermione laughed.

'My father's putting in a bid too.' Theo revealed. Hermione had expected that of course, and Harry had already conferred that both Dumbledore and the Weasleys were making bids, but Gellert's bid was the real surprise.

'Surely he can't get it?' Harry asked incredulously. Hermione considered for a moment.

'Maybe he could.' Hermione hummed, running her finger around the lip of her bowl. 'The Dursleys are the only blood relatives in the mix, and they're clearly out. So really, it's just whoever can provide the best life for you.'

'But Grindelwald can't actually care for me, can they?' Harry asked, an eyebrow raised.

'Well, that's perhaps his disadvantage. The others are all winning out there. But I doubt the Weasleys stand a chance because of their financial situation, Lord Nott might run into problems because of his... previous affiliations. That leaves Dumbledore.'

'But I don't want to go with Dumbledore!' Harry exclaimed, scowling up at the headmaster who seemed to be reading a rather important looking document over his eggs.

'Well...' Theo remarked dryly, 'Just remind the court that Dumbledore had been in Locum Parentis for your last three years of education during which time you've almost been killed by a possessed dark wizard, eaten by a three headed dog, expelled by a feral house elf and devoured by the Dark Lord's pet basilisk. I'm sure that will put a jam in his bid.'

Hermione nodded along in agreement and Harry looked considerably brighter.

'But how can Grindelwald win if he can't even look after me?'

'Maybe he's asked Anneken to? Although I imagine it would have been easier to use her Krum, or even Lintzen names in that case.' Hermione pondered, then jerked her bowl out of the way as an owl barrelled down infront of her. It dropped a scrap of paper from it's beak and she fished it out of her juice with a frown, charming it dry before the ink could run too far.

'Dumbledore wants to see me in his office.' She informed the two boys, pursing her lips.

'What about?' Theo asked, glancing up at the headmaster, then looking away quickly when the headmaster smiled at him.

'The lightning bolt on the pitch? This? Avalon?' Hermione suggested, shrugging. Theo bit his lip and then announced that they'd wait for her in the courtyard. The two boys wished her luck, then Harry courteously offered his arm to escort her to the door on his way back to his table.

At the head table, Dumbledore stood as well, sweeping down between the tables as everyone watched. Conversation faltered and Hermione picked up her pace to slip between the doors before the entire school could see her talking to Dumbledore. She did not need whatever rumours that would start.

Unfortunately, despite the growth spurt over the last term, Dumbledore had much longer legs and she had barely cleared the doors when he caught up with her. His pace slowed to match hers and then, to her great surprise, he offered her his arm.

She took it suspiciously, allowing the headmaster to escort her through the deserted corridors. They made it up to the second floor before he said anything.

'Miss Gorlois, I must commend your efforts with the werewolves.' He began and Hermione had to struggle to keep the scowl off her face. Although she had planned for the information to become public, she had wanted the employment contracts to be in place before it did.

'Professor Lupin was discussing it in the staff room.' Dumbledore informed her, as if he knew why she was upset and wanted to reassure her. 'He wanted the assurances of those who'd been teaching you a little longer before he reached out to his kin.'

'Good. I hope that it won't spread beyond these walls. If Umbridge catches word of my plans, I don't doubt that she'll force something through to prevent it.' She glanced at Dumbledore and he nodded solemnly.

'I'll be sure to remind Hagrid to be discrete.' Dumbledore assured and Hermione pinched her lips. Hagrid was far from discrete, which meant that she'd need to accelerate her plans. It wasn't ideal because it taxed her contacts more, but she could certainly put pressure on the right parties to speed up the process. 'I have a contact that might suffice for your potions master, he used to be a teacher but retired at the end of the war.'

'Oh?'

'He's a very good potioneer; rather likes his comforts and if fond of allying himself with powerful and talented people. I imagine he'd be rather interested in you and your little group of friends... Parma Violet.' At his word, which had clearly been the password, the statue ground upwards to his office. They both stepped aboard, Dumbledore finally releasing her hand and the difference in altitude made it impractical.

'What an awful choice.' Hermione commented blithely. Dumbledore blinked at her. 'Of sweet. I don't think there has ever been one that tasted more like soap.'

'What would have chosen, Miss Gorlois?' Dumbledore asked curiously as he pulled a key from his robes and unlocked the door.

'Fruit Pastilles.' She answered, taking the seat that was offered as Dumbledore made his way around the desk. A moment later a house elf appeared with a pop, placing a tea service on the desk and served them as Dumbledore opened a pot of ink and pulled out a clean sheet of parchment, writing down a name and address. She waited until Dumbledore had taken a sip of his tea before drinking some of her own.

'I was hoping that you might be able to explain to me what happened at the quidditch pitch. I must say, I've never seen magic quite like that.' Dumbledore asked airily and Hermione knew instantly that this was the price of putting her into contact with this potion master. Fortunately, she had no qualms with telling him exactly what had happened, so he'd just wasted what truly would have been a valuable bribe. She his her smile behind her teacup and pretended to be somewhat reluctant to reveal the secret.

'It was my family magic.' She admitted. Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

'An active manifestation?' He demanded and Hermione blinked, wondering what exactly she'd missed. Had Theo and Neville failed to enlighten her on some aspect of family magic that was meant to be common knowledge in Britain? Fortunately, Dumbledore continued. 'I have heard of family magic before, of course, but it was never suggested that it could be used to actively perform magic. Most use it as a way to key wards and protections, or perhaps to focus certain enchantments.'

Hermione paused to consider, running through key words that she should avoid if she didn't want to incriminate herself or her beliefs.

'It's a matter of the strength of the family magic - the more members of the family who have become a part of the magic, and the more that are still alive at the time, the stronger the magic. It's a little bit like a portrait, I suppose; you can leave a little bit of yourself behind in the magic, and the more people that do that over history, the stronger the collective magic is. If only a handful of wixen have to that in your family, your magic will really only exist as a connection between the living, which can be used for all manner of things. But if every member of a family for millennia has added to it, the resultant force can be quite powerful.'

'Fascinating.' She could see the thoughts and questions flashing behind the headmaster's eyes like lightning. 'Did Gellert have access to this power?'

'The Grindelwald power is the strongest I've ever known, but he was fighting against the values of the family so I doubt it would have answered to him.'

'So it's sentient? Like a possession?' Dumbledore asked and Hermione's eyes narrowed at the negative connotation.

'It's as much a part of us as our own magic, like sharing a family bond with your parents.'

'Ah yes...' Dumbledore mused, pushing his cup aside and steepling his fingers. 'Gellert used to discuss bonds. He claimed that we shared one.'

'Gellert used to be very good at seeing bonds.'

'Yes... There is just one more matter I wish to discuss with you.'

'What?' Hermione demanded, already having a suspicion which was confirmed a moment later.

'It is the matter of Mister Potter's custody.'

'And what is it you wish to discuss with me. Surely this is a matter to be discussed with Harry?'

'I believe that you might understand this matter a little more that Harry and you do have considerable influence on him.' Dumbledore explained. Hermione waited silently for him to continue. 'You see, the true reason why Harry must return to the Dursley's house every year is because his mother cast a spell upon her death - a ritual, perhaps you would call it. So long as Harry shares a home with his mother's blood, no evil can touch him.'

Hermione blinked in surprise, then blinked again. Then had to fight to stop her jaw dropping.

'And?' She demanded.

'Harry will always be targeted by Voldemort and his followers, but he is safe as long as he lives with his Aunt and Uncle.' Dumbledore explained.

'You want him to stay there because a single sacrifice ward protects him? You're placing his muggle family at risk every time they leave the house - you do realise that if someone kills his Aunt, the enchantment is voided?'

This time, it was Dumbledore who looked shocked before he managed to conceal it behind his usual expression of twinkle-eyed kindness.

'And 'cannot be touched by evil'? That's not a suitable identifier for any ward...?'

'Voldemort cannot touch him.' Dumbledore clarified, looking like he'd been forced to swallow a stone.

'What about Voldemort's followers? Lucius Malfoy touched him just fine when they shook hands at the ball.'

'And Lord Nott?' Dumbledore prompted. Hermione sneered.

'Lord Nott is not a follower of Voldemort.'

'He was once. Perhaps you should discuss the matter with him.' Dumbledore prompted, a dark look in his eye.

'I have.' Hermione replied shortly, her fingers curling into her robes beneath the table. 'I assure you that he does not follow Voldemort.'

'Because he follows you?' Dumbledore prompted.

'He follows himself. I have only extracted an oath from Apophis.' Hermione corrected. Dumbledore seemed to decide to let the matter slip because he shrugged, passed her the slip of parchment with the potion master's details and then leaned back in his chair.

'Harry would be many times safer behind a set of ancient wards, with a magical guardian that he could rely on and communicate with. He'd have the clout of his family name to protect him...' The something occurred to her which made her insides turn to ice. 'Unless you didn't want him to have that - you didn't have time to raise him yourself, the Weasleys had too many children already, and you couldn't trust anyone else to make sure that he was absolutely loyal to you. You wanted Hogwarts to be his salvation, his only connection to the wixen world. That's why you sent Hagrid to pick him up, even though he's vastly under qualified.'

'I assure you...' Dumbledore interrupted.

'No, I think that makes sense. I don't think you realised just how vulnerable he was with the muggles of course, but you need him loyal to you for some reason... how many votes did you get to allow you to become Supreme Mugwump?'

This time Dumbledore looked genuinely surprised.

'It would have just skimmed by, even in the wake of the war the dark bloc has always been slightly bigger. You'd have needed every vote that you could get to come to power.' Hermione shook her head in disbelief. 'Well, Harry has his ring now, and whoever becomes his guardian will have his vote. I promise it won't be you, and I can promise that Harry will be safer and happier behind the ancestral wards of whichever home he ends up in.'

With that she stood, making a deliberate effort to glide out of the room rather than stomp like a child throwing a tantrum. The door closed heavily behind her.

She reigned in her temper all the way down to the courtyard where Theo and Neville were playing fetch with Sirius whilst they waited. Harry hovered nearby, petting Cavella. They took one look at her expression and demanded to know what had happened.

'Later.' Hermione hissed, 'I'll tell you later.'

She dragged the two into a carriage, Sirius bounding in behind them.

'Cavella, stay with Harry.' Hermione ordered. The bundle of white fluff was bound to get lost in the thick blanket of snow in the grounds. The puppy sulked for a moment, then bounced back to Harry who scooped her up gratefully. A pair of fourth year Ravenclaws tried to climb in with them but Theo sneered at them so impressively that they changed their minds and decided to wait for the next carriage.

The boys waited a moment until the carriage had moved off down the hill and passed between the dementors at the gates before asking her what had happened. She told them everything, her fingers clenching and unclenching in her robes and leaving a rumpled patch on her thighs. By the end of it, both boys looked furious.

'He shouldn't be in power!' Theo hissed. 'All those awful laws restricting the old ways that he's forced through over the last decade should be abolished.'

'Gran would never have voted for him if she knew he'd so something like that. She only voted for him because she didn't want a death eater sympathiser getting in.'

'We had an election at the beginning of second year, I remember because they passed that awful law that let Weasley do all those raids. So at the end of next year, we'll get him kicked out then.'

'Our first political move.' Neville vowed. Sirius yowled in agreement.

The carriage drew to a stop just outside Hogsmeade a moment later and Hermione piled out with the others, already feeling considerably better. The wizarding town was very quaint with old Tudor style houses, tar black beams piled up with snow and hung with Christmas holly garlands. The boys led her straight to the little pub, planning to miss the rush in there, then go after the rush to the other shops.

The Three Broomsticks was a very traditional British pub; low, dark ceilings which were currently decorated by strings of brightly coloured Christmas cards. Glasses twinkled merrily from where they were hung above a gleaming wooden bar and a roaring fire filled the two fireplaces.

The serving lady was tall and curvy, wearing a glittering pair of heels and a dress that would have been considered scandalous even in the muggle world. She sashayed her way over, introducing herself as Madam Rosmerta and inviting them to sit at a well loved wooden bench. She asked all of their names, and Hermione was very impressed when she then remembered them as she returned with three large butter beers and a bowl of chicken broth for Sirius, who yipped in pleasure and began lapping messily at it on the floor.

Hermione was just debating asking for a bowl of chips and gravy when the door swung open, allowing a group of adults into the room. They paused as Madam Rosmerta swept up next to them, greeting the group of teachers by name. It wasn't until Hagrid finally moved aside that she saw Minister Fudge was with the group. His eyes met hers briefly and he quickly altered course to come via their table.

'Merry Christmas, Lady Grindelwald!' Fudge beamed his politician smile. 'Heir Nott, Heir Longbottom.'

They all mumbled replies.

'Magnificent ball you held over Summer. My wife enjoyed herself a great deal. Remarkable home, indeed.'

'Thank you, Minister.' Hermione smiled, nudging Sirius under the table with her foot. She didn't think that the minister knew about his animagus form, or he surely would have broadcast it across the whole country, but she didn't want to take the risk that the conspicuous auror guard that had followed him in might have some way of detecting animagi.

'Will it become a yearly event?' Fudge asked and Hermione shook her head.

'I wouldn't want to clash with Madam Parkinson's yearly summer ball, but perhaps I might hold another if there's something to celebrate?'

'Excellent, excellent. I don't suppose I could sit, for a moment.'

Neville shuffled sideways obediently, making room for the minister to sit opposite Hermione. Sirius edged even further backwards.

'I don't suppose you've heard that the Quidditch World Cup will be held in Britain next year.'

'I hadn't' Hermione replied. Ron had probably mentioned it at some point, but she rarely bothered to listen when he was talking about quidditch, so she couldn't remember it.

'Ah, well, anyway. You see, in previous events the Black family has assisted with accomodation and hosted the pre-match party, and I was going to see if Lucius had anywhere appropriate but... well...' Fudge adjusted his bowler hat uncertainly whilst Hermione considered.

'Ministry expense?' She asked after a moment.

'Yes, yes, certainly. We'll organise and pay for everything; food, drinks, entertainment, decorations, bedding even. A thousand galleons per week for six weeks. Top box tickets to the match too for yourself and your friends.' The Minister assured hastily.

'I want to have a representative on the planning committee who has veto power.'

'Certainly.'

'And a potions trading licence.' Fudge looked taken aback, but then shrugged and agreed.

'And I want a visit with my patriarch for myself and my friends.'

This time, the Minister hesitated for a little longer. Hermione was willing to bet that he'd looked into the feasibility of Hermione visiting months ago, incase he ever needed something from her. Taking all of her allies, however, would be another matter entirely.

'How many can you accomodate?' Fudge asked. Hermione smiled.

'How many are you bringing? Theres about seventy bedroom suites in the castle, although many need renovation to be inhabitable and several hundred houses in the lower town. I've got a team of goblins working on repairing everything at the moment.'

Fudge choked on his own tongue, spluttering across the table.

'How in Merlin's name did you get goblins to work for you? I can't even get King Ragnuk to meet with me.'

'Tintagel mine belongs to the Gorlois family. The goblins mine it for a very favourable rate.' Hermione explained, glancing at the two boys at the table. Their faces were blank masks, although Theo sent her a quick smirk. Fudge blinked, seeming to reassess her quickly. She could almost feel herself rocketing up the list of people he needed to pander too.

'Right... Well then. Er, visiting Grindelwald was it? I can certainly see what we can do.'

'Wonderful.' Hermione beamed at him. 'Please, send through the details and I'll pass them on to my estate manager.'

They shook hands and Fudge departed, heading over to where the teachers had talked Rosmerta into sitting with them. As soon as he was out of earshot the boys burst into excited chatter, discussing how exciting it would be to have box seats for the World Cup. Neither was particularly Quidditch mad, but even Hermione had to admit that if there was one match worth seeing, this would be it.

But more important than the match itself were the political implications of being chosen. She would bet her sword that the minister just wanted to show off the sheer size and grandeur of the biggest estate in wizarding Britain. But he'd also passed over the much wealthier and more influential Malfoys to do so, and that would be noticed. It would irritate the Malfoys, but she was reasonably certain that ship had already sailed by the attitude of Narcissa in Diagon Alley earlier in the year.

'Would Daphne be interested in representing me on the planning committee?' Hermione asked, interrupting the boy's discussion on the current Bulgarian seeker and whether he was related to Anneken. Theo glanced over at her and shrugged.

'Maybe. It's pretty prestigious but a lot of work.'

'I'll ask.' She decided.

'All finished, dears?' Rosmerta asked. The tables were filling up with Hogwarts students rapidly, so Hermione and her friends took the hint and left. It had started snowing again whilst they were inside and a small group of students were singing in the central crossroads. A hat lay on the snow in front of them, along with a sign saying that proceeds went to St. Mungos. The boys showed her around the village; the sweet shop, the joke shop, a tacky little tea shop, an apothecary and oddly, two cauldron shops right next to each other. They spent a while in the bookshop and even longer in the little plant nursery as Neville dithered between two types of watering runestones for his grandmother's newest greenhouse.

They headed back up to the school reasonably early; all of them were taking an intensive course load and needed to catch up on homework. Even Hermione, with her impressive work ethic, had fallen behind in an effort to keep up with her usual deep and detailed essays.

Harry was already in the transfiguration classroom with Ginny when they returned. Both of them leaned over a large sheet of tattered parchment and were looking up before they entered.

'Guess what? Hermione's hosting the Quidditch World Cup teams and officials at Avalon this summer.' Neville grinned, emptying his pockets of the sweets they'd brought back for the less fortunate duo. Then he glanced down at the parchment, frowned and swept the brightly wrapped packages aside. 'What's this?'

'A present from Fred and George.' Ginny replied.

'It's called the Marauder's Map.' Harry raised his eyebrows significantly at Sirius. The marauder barked and bounded up onto the closest chair, resting his paws on the table in an incredibly human gesture. Hermione sighed and leaned over as well. It was just as Sirius had once described; older, more worn, but still showing an intricate rendition of the castle that was dotted with the names and footprints of everyone inside it. Her eyes slid to the transfiguration where "Sirius Black", "Harry Potter", "Ginevra Weasley", "Neville Longbottom" and "Hermione Gorlois" stood around a table. Minerva McGonagall was just walking up the grand staircase and a steady ant trail of students made their way up from Hogsmeade.

'It shows animagi.' Hermione realised.

'So it will show Pettigrew.' Theo concluded. They shared a victorious grin.