Lady Grindelwald didn't wake at all that night but Gellert didn't leave her side, despite the throbbing knot of anger in his chest that demanded he exact vengeance on Fleiss. Berg left instructions to keep the high witch cool using damp cloths then departed on Hermione's orders to visit every coven member's home, delivering her summons and offering assistance to those who needed it; Hermione was adamant that news of the coven's fate not leave the immediate family of those involved.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning, Berg returned. His skin was ashen and the dark shadows beneath his eyes were as pronounced at those that Gellert could feel dragging his own eyelids shut. Gellert's ward brother cast a couple of diagnosis charms, then pronounced that Lady Grindelwald's fever had broken.

'How are the others?' Gellert croaked. Berg was already making his way back to his waiting mount, which didn't seem to suggest good news.

'Much the same. Frau Kollmann fell when she was attacked. I don't think the skelegro is working, but I've managed to set her leg.'

'Oh.' Gellert couldn't muster up more of an answer than that. 'And Hermione?'

'I haven't seen her.' Berg rubbed at his forehead and sighed, 'you should get some sleep though. She'll need you to help sort out this mess tomorrow.'

Then Berg was gone and Gellert let his head flop forwards onto his mother's bed in relief. His ward brother may not be a true healer, but he was very very good. His mother would survive... but what was she without her magic? What was any wixen without their magic?

When Gellert next blinked, it was daylight.

'Morning.' He looked up blearily, then blinked rapidly to clear his eyes. His mother was awake, steaming tea in one slightly shaky hand and a half eaten bowl of soup on her lap.

'Mother.' He sat up, glancing around the room searchingly.

'Hermione came in three hours ago.' His mother answered his unspoken question, her voice eerily collected after last night. 'She is up in the lighthouse now, I believe.'

'Doing what?' Gellert croaked. His throat was very dry and his entire body ached, particularly his neck where he'd been bent over on the bed.

'She had a list of matters to attend to about as long as her wand.' His mother said dryly, then she winced. Her wand, Gellert noted, was on the bedside table, still within reach despite being useless to her.

'I'll go and help.' Gellert decided, pushing up from the chair that he'd slept in.

'Yes.' His mother agreed, 'but Gellert..?'

He paused at the sharp tone, looking back at her.

'Yes?' He prompted. His mother's gaze was very cool.

'I don't want to see you using that wand again.'

'Which wand?' Gellert acted oblivious. The only wand that he had used for the past months was the elder wand and the two witches in his life had fought every step of the way. They didn't understand how powerful it was, and how he could use that power to fix so many problems.

'Don't play the fool.' His mother sounded tired, rather than her usual snap. 'That wand is dangerous and I don't want to see it again.'

For a moment Gellert just observed her, then he shrugged and left. He'd carry both, he decided, and use the old one whenever his mother was around. He had no intention of giving up the tool that could save his family. Hermione wouldn't be alive if the wand hadn't been in his hand to help him curse Frau Fleiss.

Hermione called him up as soon as he entered the lighthouse and he climbed up the stairs, emerging into the brightly lit office at the top, then he paused to absorb what he was seeing.

Hermione had been the Locum Matriarch a number of times so she knew the business of running the family even better than Gellert, but she still looked incredibly out of place at the massive desk. She had a kind of energy and presence that suited ancient castles and battlefields, not the formally upholstered chair or the heavy ledgers that she poured over.

'Over there.' Hermione barely greeted him, instead pointing at another massive book; the cover was embossed with swirling silver lines and a title which was so long and complex that it took up half the first page.

'What are we doing?' He asked, taking the seat opposite her.

'I'm working out which wards will have collapsed, and what we can replace them with. You're going to be looking into magical signatures.'

'Why?' He asked. Hermione finally looked up from her book, fixing him with an intense look. Oddly, she looked just as well rested as she usually did, but her eyes carried deep shadows of worry and her brow was wrinkled with stress. He resisted the temptation to smooth his thumb across the deep furrows.

'Because if the revolutionaries even suspected that the coven was gone... we'd be killed so that we couldn't form a new one. It would be like Russia all over again.' For a second the haunting shadows in her eyes flickered across her whole face, in the hollows of briefly sucked in cheeks and the line of her mouth.

'And so you're going to pretend that the coven still exists.' Gellert realised. 'You're trying to replicate their magical signature.'

Hermione shrugged a shoulder.

'It doesn't need to be exact, just similar. Most people outside the coven can't sense magical signatures anyway.' Already, a list of enchantments that would need to be replaced was forming at her elbow.

They worked in silence as the sun slowly tracked it's way across the sky, lengthening the shadows in the room until the witchlight and it's sparkling mirror array outshone the crimson setting sun. Several times during the day, elves popped in to serve tea and little sandwiches. Just before the candles were lit, Berg appeared to notify them that the meeting Hermione had called would be able to go ahead over dinner.

Finally, finally, Hermione put aside her books, standing up to stretch. Taking his queue from her. Gellert stood as well, his spine popping as he reached for the ceiling. He wasn't old, but a day and night spent curled up on uncomfortable chairs and four hours of sleep certainly made him feel it.

'So...' Hermione asked, leading the way down the staircase. 'Did you find anything?'

'Not really.' Gellert admitted. 'Polyjuice would work if we had hair from before they lost their magic.'

'We might be able to do that.' Hermione interrupted before he could continue. 'But that's a short term solution; we'll be lucky to get three months before the hairs lose all potency.'

'It's the only solution I've found so far.' Gellert admitted.

'It will have to do then, until we can find something better.' Hermione acknowledged, then summoned an elf and had both of their clothes and hair magically fixed before throwing open the door.

There were two carriages already waiting near the stables, horses dozing in the evening sun. One was quite plain but the other was a deep, velvety purple that was the signature colour of the Dünhaupt family in the same way as royal blue stood for Grindelwald. The familiar Lintzen carriage worked it's way up the hill from the portal, golden lion crests glinting brightly.

The dining cottage had been set up by the elves to take advantage of the warm evening. The back wall had been vanished to allow the gentle breeze to meander between candelabra, sending the flames dancing. Despite the plentiful light, a darkness seemed to linger cloyingly in the corners. The room had been designed as a summer entertaining room, with the assumption that serious business would be conducted as Blau Berg so the table was small and intimate, meaning that the fourteen chairs were crowded around with barely enough room and the elves had been forced to forgo side plates.

One half of the room was already full; Frau Dünhaupt, her husband and Mareike. The young witch looked like she'd shed half a pound of baby fat overnight and a fire burned in her eyes. With a twinge of regret, he recognised the sudden maturity that had been forced on his siblings in her face too. Huddled next to them was the Kollmann family; unlike Mareike, Yannik looked awful. His usually pristine robes were rumpled and his eyes were still red from crying. His mother, stripped of her magic, looked like she was ready to set fire to the table cloth with just her eyes.

Then he looked to the other side of the room and noticed that his mother was already in her spot at the head of the table. She leaned wearily against the wings and once again he spotted her wand, within reach despite being of little more use to her than a stick. Berg was already in his seat, still looking like death warmed over and blankly staring somewhere in the vicinity of his salad fork.

They took their seats in tense silence, the scrape of Hermione's chair deafeningly loud as Gellert pushed it in for her. He took his own seat at his mother's right hand and with his back to the spectacular view over the cliffs. Several minutes later, the Lintzens arrived, taking up the remaining places.

'We will eat first.' Lady Grindelwald announced as an awkward silence fell. There were several nods and meals appeared on their plates. It wasn't quite the elaborate fare that was usually served at the Grindelwald table, but it was still delicious and small requests for salad, salt and wine broke the ice a little.

The sun set fully whilst they were eating and the moon rose, glowing through the open wall and making the plates glitter with false cheer. Yet even as the additional lamps were lit around the walls, the darkness continued to linger, curling out from beneath the table and wrapping fingers around the walls. He wondered if it was the absence of magic; the five beacons that were the coven extinguished to leave the pale flames of their families and Hermione as the single bastion.

As the dessert plates disappeared, silence fell again. Eyes turned to Lady Grindelwald expectantly. His mother took a deep breath.

'Yesterday, we discovered that Arika was the one behind the attacks on us. She was the one to talk Alice Tunninger into challenging Hermione, she was the one to bring down the Blau Berg wards whilst we were preoccupied by the duel, she sabotaged the harvest ritual, she abducted the Baba Yaga, she poisoned Rose and she tried to attack my wards yesterday.'

There was a general hiss of outrage and discontent.

'When she passed through the portal, she awakened the Barrow Wights and managed to hold them at bay for long enough to catch Hermione and Berg unawares. I...' His mother's voice cracked and she had to take several breaths before she could continue. 'I traded the coven ring for Hermione's life, believing that you would revoke her and matters would end there...'

His mother seemed to loose her voice entirely then and Hermione took over, standing smoothly to address the room.

'Barrow Wights are the parent species of dementors - before Ekrizdis corrupted the enchantments. They render those who cross their circle with ill will harmless by removing their magic. They then follow the magical bonds to remove the immediate superior and subordinates of the offender, thereby rendering the threat void.' Her delivery was factual and could have been read from a text book, if text books actually existed on the subject. Gellert suspected the only references beyond the commonly accepted "terrible consequences" were buried in the depths of dry history scrolls.

'And Arika became our superior when she put on the High Witch's ring.' Frau Lintzen concluded, her eyes sparkling with tears. 'For just long enough to share her fate with us.'

'So we kill her.' Mareike spat, banging her palm against the table.

'And what good would that do?' Her mother argued.

'What is important now is the future. Germany is without a coven.' Herr Lintzen rumbled. 'The revolution will take advantage of this.'

'I do not believe the revolution know. Arika's attack was a response to Gellert and I stumbling upon her involvement in previous schemes.' Lady Grindelwald spoke up, then gestured to Hermione. 'My ward has a suggestion.'

Hermione folded her hands in front of her skirt, making the silk shimmer against the encroaching darkness from beneath the table.

'I have a temporary solution.' Hermione corrected, without sounding like she was contradicting his mother at all. It was quite a feat. 'Polyjuice. If you add half a cup of powdered iron before the boomslang skin, the victim's magical signature will become the dominant signature in any casting performed whilst under the influence of the potion.'

'And if the drinker is a relative, the effect would be even stronger.' Frau Lintzen seemed buoyed, glancing at her daughter speculatively. 'It wouldn't have to be often; just a public appearance every couple of days.'

'It would give us time to work on something else.' Frau Kollmann agreed, glancing at Hermione before returning her gaze to her clasped hands.

'Hermione brewed a brilliant batch right before Russia.' Berg put in.

'It will take me a month.' She agreed.

There was a moment of silence as they all looked at each other around the table. Then Anneken stood up.

'I'll do it.' She announced, glancing down at her mother. 'My magic's close to mother's.'

'Me too.' Mareike agreed, glancing at her mother.

'I'm probably a closer match to you, Herr Lintzen.' Hermione jerked her chin towards the burly man, whose magic was a burning, red inferno. Less wild that Hermione's blaze, but more potent.

'Gellert can transform into me.' His mother spoke for him and Gellert nodded along. He would do anything to protect the coven's interests, including transforming into his mother.

'Yannik is nothing like me.' Frau Kollmann glanced down at her son.

'I'm closer.' Krum offered, standing up and taking his betrothed's arm. 'I can be you, Frau Kollmann.'

There was a moment of silence that hovered on becoming awkward before his mother made a decisive noise and everyone sat down with a scrape of chairs. The next couple of hours were spent hashing out details, right up until Frau Kollmann's husband dozed off in his chair and they all decided to reconvene the next day. Most of them had slept fitfully, if at all, the night before.