It felt like barely a blink before they were home again for Yule. They'd barely made it through the portal before Hermione landed Katana in front of them and began regaling them with her latest research on werewolves, international quidditch teams and dementors.

'What do you think goes through her head?' Berg muttered, rising in his stirrups to mutter into Gellert's ear. Hermione, who was chattering animatedly about the patronus charm's potential use as a messenger, didn't notice.

'World domination.' Gellert replied easily. Berg snickered, which unfortunately drew Hermione's attention.

'And what,' she demanded, twisting in the saddle so sharply that he was surprised her back didn't crack, 'is so funny about disguising the corporeality of a patronus?'

'Nothing.' Berg defended quickly, eyes wide. Hermione inspected him, the sniffed in mock offence. Gellert fingered his wand warily, noticing the little sparkle of mischief behind her offended mask.

'So what was I saying then?' She demanded, dropping her reins to balance her hands of Katana's rump. Berg had clearly noticed her expression too, because he had his own wand already in his lap and a shield charm shimmering between his fingers, ready to be expanded at a moment's notice.

But Berg didn't account for the training that Hermione's family had been doing with Katana. Gellert didn't even see the signal, it may have been as small as a shift of her weight, or a tap of her toe against his shoulder, but Katana swiped his thick, draconic tail through the snow like it was water sending a shower up, over and straight into Berg's face. Predictably, that made Berg's foul tempered Hippogriff furious. It screeched and reared up, lashing out at Katana who danced forward on pointed toes, easily getting clear of the furious beast. Berg, on the other hand, had had one hand on his wand and the other ready with a shield. He hadn't been expecting his own beast to move. He managed to cling on with just his legs for a moment, then slipped backwards, straight over his Hippogriff's glossy rear and into the snow.

Hermione screeched with laughter as the Hippogriff, freed of Berg's control and furious at the snow that still lingered on it's feathers, leapt up into the air. Berg dove for the reins, missed, and went face first into the snow again. Hermione was not so incapacitated by her amusement that she failed to notice his shield charm had morphed into a stinging hex. She ducked under it, then Katana surged up into the air, carrying her laughter away into the wind.

Gellert watched as the blue speck gathered height and speed, rapidly closing on the fleeing hippogriff. For a moment, the two dots merged as one, then separated again, this time with Katana's bigger wingspan in the lead and the smaller hippogriff obediently trailing behind. They soared away, back to the lighthouse.

He glanced down at Berg, who was desperately attempting to dust the snow from his collar.

'I think you lost.' He remarked, then offered his brother a hand, helping him clamber up onto Kelpie behind him. Berg scowled and muttered mutinously.

Together, they strolled the rest of the way to the cluster of houses at the top. Kelpie disliked snow because it froze against his naturally damp coat, so he was more than glad to be settled back into his cosy stall beside Katana. Hermione's horse, meanwhile, was busy conversing with Berg's in a series of screeches and hoots that sounded smug even to Gellert's human ears.

'Someday, that horse of hers is going to turn into a human.' Berg remarked, checking on his hippogriff to find that Hermione had already rubbed him down and, it seemed, offered him a pheasant as consolation if the fresh feathers over the floor were anything to go by.

'Technically, he's still juvenile.' Gellert pointed out. 'We have no idea how intelligent he'll be when he's an adult.'

'He is growing another tine. Do you think Longma go through beast-teenage years?'

'Tine.' Gellert snickered. 'It's just called a point.'

Berg scowled, then the expression deepened as Hermione poked her head through the stable door.

'Coming?' She asked, Berg twitched his fingers and there was a heavy whumpf of snow. Hermione squealed and vanished. They heard her cursing outside; a string of expletives about saggy underwear that made both boys blush. Once the sounds of her extricating herself from whatever trap Berg had set faded and Gellert had satisfied that Kelpie was warm and fed, they headed out the doors.

Gellert offered his arm to Hermione immediately, using his other hand to help brush snow out of her hair. She smiled and reached up on her tiptoes to peck him on the cheek. He wondered briefly how tall she would become; he would be quite tall, he already knew that, but he couldn't remember if she'd ever described her muggle parents to him.

'Where?' Berg asked warily, as Hermione started off towards the top of the hill.

'Your mother, obviously.' She rolled her eyes and Berg huffed, hurrying after them up the hill. 'Herr Hawdon is here at the moment, but he said he'd only be here for a bit, so he should be gone soon and then we can let her know that you're both home safely. She worries, these days.'

'Has she told you what the Yule plans are?' Gellert asked.

'Same as usual?' Hermione offered. 'I mean, she asked if I wanted to invite the Flamels again and the elves have been polishing the carriage harness.'

'Oh. Good.' Gellert had almost expected the ritual to be cancelled in light of what had been going on, but he supposed there was very little risk of death. The ritual robes were a powerful magical artefact but they never left the sight of his family, so it wasn't like anyone could tamper with them.

'It's good really. I have lots of questions to ask Nick.'

'Nick?' Gellert asked dryly.

'Nicholas Flamel.' She rolled her eyes and pushed him lightly. 'Don't tell me you're jealous of a five hundred year old man.'

'No.' Gellert denied, relaxing.

'Good.' Hermione allowed Berg to open the door at the base of the lighthouse and they paused on the ground floor, waiting until Herr Hawdon came down so that they could go up. It was gloomy after the crystalline snowscape outside; the single window was very small and almost entirely covered by a mound of snow.

'They're arguing.' Berg whispered. The trio shared a nervous look, then shuffled over to the staircase door and pressed their ears against the wood.

'-it's just not safe any more.' Herr Hawdon sounded desperate. His mother's voice was much harder to catch, further away from the staircase as if she was looking out over the cliffs as she often did when Gellert met with her.

'The Baba Yaga was stolen from their fortress, Rose was murdered inside my home... Merlin, even Hermione was almost killed when they poisoned the ritual sacrifice a couple of years ago. I can't continue to risk my family.' There was a crash; heavy enough to be a falling chair. His mother was suddenly much louder.

'What about the coven? You have a duty to this country.' His mother cried.

'I have a greater duty to my family.' Herr Hawdon sounded firm in his decision, but his voice wavered with regret. 'How many times have your three almost died? Ten, fifteen times?'

'My children are strong, they know their duty and they're willing to sacrifice for the greater good.' Any pride that Gellert may have felt was drowned by the sinking, leaden weight of the realisation that yet another member of the coven was leaving.

'They are strong, but the Baba Yaga were stronger and they were still taken. I'm sorry, Katerina, but you must understand that I have no choice. I must protect my family.'

There was a moment of silence.

'Very well.' His mother sounded colder than a frozen fjord. 'We shall excommunicate you after Yule.'

'Thank you. I appreciate your understanding.'

'Oh, I am not understanding. I think you are being cowardly.' Hermione tugged on his sleeve, pulling him away from the door. With a start, he noticed that a somber looking Berg was holding the front door open. He hadn't even noticed the icy flood of air.

'Come on. We'll send an elf.'

They hurried outside and hastily made their way to Hermione's cottage, which was easily the closest. Hexemeer was designed as a summer retreat for the Grindelwald family, so the little cottages were painfully cold. The fireplace was small, the doors and windows plagued with draughts and the decorations light and airy; not at all comfortable for winter. They huddled together on the rug in front of the fire, stoking it up to a roar.

Behind them, the shadows lengthened in silence, the snap-pop of the fire and their breathing the only sound.

'Another gone.' Hermione sighed mournfully.

'That's only half left.' Berg pointed out.

'And the more we lose, the weaker we get; the stronger out enemies become.' Gellert concluded.

They lapsed into silence again, each wrapped in their own thoughts. At one point, Hermione got up and fetched a thick, scratchy woollen blanket from her bedroom and draped it around their shoulders before rejoining them on the hearth. Even later, Flighty popped in and lit the rest of the candles.

Hermione's sudden, loud exclamation almost made him jump into the fire.

'Poison!'

'What?' Berg asked, twisting to stare at her. For a moment Gellert foundered, then like someone had just cast a witchlight, he realised what she meant.

'Every single attack has been poison. I was poisoned via the ritual bull and the Baba Yaga were stolen from their castle just after dinner. I'd bet my ring that there was some kind of sleeping draught in the meal.' Hermione explained.

'And Frau Hassel... you're a genius, Hermione.' Berg joined in, his eyes alight with understanding.

'A brilliant potioneer too, to fool so many people and not get caught.' Hermione added.

'With access to a house elf. We're looking at a potion master for sure, perhaps a member of the guild.' Gellert summoned a piece of parchment from Hermione's desk, along with a quill and started noting down.

'Someone with a good understanding of the coven - we'd think they were traditional, like us. They managed to get through the wards of Fort Stark to confound the elf to poison the bull and they must have gotten in to the Baba Yaga's castle to pick up their victims after they'd put them to sleep.' The young witch noted and Gellert marked that down.

'A family member of the coven?' Asked Berg eagerly.

'What about Herr Freidl? He was the first to leave.'

'Surely he wouldn't kill his own sister though?'

'That pea soup would have killed all of us if Frau Hassel hadn't tasted it first.' Gellert pointed out, jabbing the quill in Berg's direction to emphasise his point.

'I don't know that that means much.'

'Gellert?' Hermione asked. 'Have you still got that vision of the last meal that was served at the Baba Yaga's castle?'

He glanced over at her, then nodded. Borrowing her thick, fenrir skin cloak, he fetched it from his darkened cottage room. They spread the papers out across the floor, searching for the correct one. It took seconds, then Hermione made a cry of victory, holding the small sketch up.

'Found it. I was right, it's the same elf.'

Gellert took the image, glanced over it and quickly agreed.

'A court order.' He decided. 'An official court order for Herr Freidl to present his elves for inspection. We'll speak to mother and let her know what we've found out.'

'Yes.' Hermione agreed, tucking the picture safely into the fold of Gellert's robe.

'Now.' Berg concluded, glancing out of the window. The beacon was the only light in the tower. 'Tomorrow.' He amended.

'Tomorrow.' Hermione agreed.