Hey all! I am sorry for it being so long since my last update. There has been a lot going on lately. I got a new job and just recently started a graduate program. So, that's been taking a lot of my time.

This is a long chapter, so I hope that makes up for it a little. I also didn't post earlier because I do not want to publish anything subpar for this story. I want to do it justice.

Thank you for staying with my story and wanting to read more.

Now, without further ado, enjoy!

Chapter 15

The warmth of the sun's rays bled through the suite's sheer curtains. Despite the light snowfall outside, the bright light shone across Hermione's face, rousing the girl awake. Blinking, she sighed as she looked scornfully at the window. She was comfortable and didn't want to move. Last night's sleep was one of the best night's rest she's had in a very long time. But, she knew that she needed to get up.

Hermione knew she needed to get ready for the day, but the warmth of her blankets and pillows were too comfortable to leave. Sighing, she begrudgingly sat up, blankets still bunched up around her. However, refusing to leave her bed, Hermione simply leaned back against her bed's headboard and flicked her wrist, and watched as the curtains pulled apart, revealing the giant window. At this moment-her watching the snow fall gently outside the window-there was nothing that could beat this serene and enchanting feeling, filled with a comfortable silence.

A knock, however, pulled her out of her light trance. But, before the young witch could respond, the door opened, revealing her sweetly smiling girlfriend. Alright, maybe there could be something that could beat that tranquil moment.

Beckett silently made her way over to the bed as Hermione pulled back the blanket invitingly. The metamorphmagus seemed to have just woken up, the young witch noted. Her purple hair was ruffled that indicated bed hair while she was dressed in a loosely fitted twisted sisters black tee that seemed to have been cut to turn it into a muscle shirt, sleeveless with the skin of her ribs showing. Her arms were covered with full sleeve tattoos, with the dark mark laying proudly on her left forearm, surrounded by the other designs. She also wore a pair of black, slightly baggy joggers that she had pulled up to her mid-calf, also showing hints of some leg tattoos.

Smiling at the smaller witch, Beckett immediately climbed up onto the bed. Though, as soon as she got close to Hermione, she pulled the girl out of her comfy position to scoot her forward a little. When Hermione did so, the purple-haired witch sat behind her, leaning back against the headboard. Beckett pulled the younger witch towards her, Hermione's back against her front. Tucking her head in the crook of Hermione's neck, Beckett inhaled deeply, taking in that almond and vanilla scent that surrounded the girl.

"Good morning, little witch," she whispered lovingly.

The teen giggled lightly before snuggling herself backward in Beckett's arms. "Good morning, Bex," she whispered back.

Planting a kiss to the crown of Hermione's head, "did you just wake up?"

"Hmmm, I woke up a little bit ago. I didn't want to get up. It's too comfortable for me to move." Hermione replied as she kept her gaze on the snowflakes before turning her head to look over her shoulder to look into those alexandrite eyes. "I still don't want to move," she giggled lightly. "This is perfect," she mumbled, looking down at the other's lips before tenderly kissing the older witch.

Beckett responded in kind but soon broke the moment. "Mmmm, I have to agree with you, love. But," she said regretfully, "we are going to have to get out of this bed, eventually. Whether you like it or not." This caused Hermione to pout, pulling a chuckle from the purple-haired witch. "Although," she said mischievously. "I'm sure one of them will come and get us for breakfast. So, really, we don't have any obligation to get up just yet."

Giggling some more, Hermione turned her gaze back to the landscape outside her window, "good, because I have no intention of getting out of this bed right now." And with that, the two witches remained in their positions against one another for thirty minutes or so in comfortable silence, watching the snowfall over the garden and evergreens before another knock broke the serene moment.

The knock was slightly firmer this time than Beckett's, and the impending invader didn't open the door as the metamorphmagus had done earlier.

Turning her head, Hermione called, loud enough, granting entrance to whoever was on the other side. Slowly opening, the familiar blonde-hair wizard, Draco, popped his head in. Smirking, the boy finally entered the room and sat down in one of the comfy lounge chairs. He was amused by the scene before him.

"Oh, good morning, Draco," Hermione greeted with a warm smile.

Chuckling, "good morning, Hermione, Beckett. I trust the both of you slept well." he asked, more so as a statement than as an actual question.

Hermione quickly observed the boy as he made himself comfortable in her room. Like Beckett, he too was still in his sleep clothes: a pair of dark green joggers with a light gray undershirt. Ever the Slytherin, Hermione thought.

Both witches nodded with smiles.

"And you, cousin? I trust you slept well, too," Beckett asked.

"Of course, dear cousin of mine," Draco said, still smirking. "You both look comfortable," he continued, tone filled with mirth. "Though, I, regretfully, must disturb this fine morning, for it is time for breakfast. Auntie Bella and Mother sent me to remind the pair of you."

Hermione groaned at just the thought of getting out of her comfy position, let alone actually doing it. The other two chuckled at her expense.

"And Hermione, you don't have to worry about getting dressed for the day. We like to spend our mornings, including breakfast, in comfy wear."

Hermione's head fell back onto Beckett's shoulder; eyes closed as she released an annoyed sigh. "Fine," she whined before literally dragging herself out of bed with Beckett following her lead, albeit less dramatic.

Draco smirked once more as he looked over the curly-haired witch's state of dress. "Though, Hermione, I think you might want to put on some pants before you walk down." He gestured to her exposed legs.

Confused, the girl looked down and noticed her boy shorts. Looking back up at the chuckling wizard, "oh." She quickly went over to her dresser and grabbed a pair of light grey wide maxi pants. Once ready, she looked to the other two, "let's go?"

Breakfast had been a lovely affair so far. Hermione, Beckett, and Draco joined Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Lucius at the private family dining room with a delightful view of the front and side gardens. The familial group conversed amicably over how the two students' past term went.

"Dreadful as usual," Draco commented dryly. "My grades are still good, still on par with Hermione's," everyone at the table chuckled. "And aside from Quidditch and antagonizing Potter and Weasley, it's dreadfully boring. By luck, if it weren't for that and my friends...I would die of boredom."

Everyone chuckled at that. Bellatrix then turned the conversation to Hermione. "And how has your term been going, Ryann?"

"School has been somewhat trying for me this past term," Hermione started off.

"What do you mean?" asked Lucius.

"Well, academically speaking, it has been fantastic. I've excelled in all of my courses, which have been absolutely exciting, especially in Potions. I was already good in that class, but having Draco as my partner exceedingly improved my skills." She sent a grateful smile over to her new close friend.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly with a smug smile, "perks of having the Potions' professor as your godfather."

"He had also been lending a listening ear whenever Harry or Ron aggravate or annoy me. Much appreciation, by the way, Draco," Hermione smiled at the boy.

"Of course," he responded with a simple head nod and kind smile.

"However," Hermione continued on, "aside from my academics, the rest of it was the trying part. Harry and Ron, along with Professor Dumbledore, have been rather troublesome."

The rest of the table nodded their heads.

"Aside from Dumbledore's blatant attempt to keep me rooted with the Order by trying to place me with Mrs. Tonks, he has been trying to convince me into forgiving the boys for their abhorrent behavior towards me-especially Ronald. Actually, he has been trying to push me to engage in a relationship with him. He reasoned that his rather callous behavior were displays of affection and interest in me, romantically and...sexually."

The purple-haired witch growled, grabbing Hermione's hand possessively.

Hermione continued on, somewhat pointedly, as she lightly squeezed her girlfriend's hand. "Emphasis on trying," a well-groomed eyebrow rose. "And then, Harry, he's simply been an idiotic and self-centered git. He claimed to be best friends with both of us. But, every time Ron acts like a right foul git, he always picks him. Not that I really care about it anymore." She shrugged nonchalantly.

Everyone at the table, however, knew that she did, indeed, care.

"Luna, Neville, and Ginny, however, have been very supportive and helpful." Hermione mused, despite her melancholy mood. She paused, nodding to herself, taking a scoop full of porridge. "Though," Hermione added with an afterthought, "with all that being said, I am reasonably sure that I won't be welcomed back to my house when term starts again. I was met with hostility by most of Gryffindor that morning after the Daily Prophet article was released."

"I noticed that," Draco said, "though, I'm not surprised by their animosity. They hate anything different from them and anything even remotely associated with the dark arts. You might not be safe in your house."

"Yes, you'll definitely be in danger if their characteristics are anything like how the Gryffindors were when I was at Hogwarts," Bellatrix interjected.

"Lucius, is there anything that you could do? Maybe request a resorting for her. I doubt her safety will be guaranteed if she remains in that house," Narcissa implored her husband.

"I'll do what I can, Ryann," the blonde wizard turned her gaze from his concerned wife to the young girl sitting opposite of him. "Bella and Cissy are right. You need to be kept safe, especially from those involved with the Order."

Hermione smiled kindly, appreciating his service, regardless of any future outcome.

"Now, onto another note," he continued, changing the topic. "Narcissa has something she would like to do with you two today," he gestured to Hermione and Draco.

"Oh, yes. Ryann, Draco, we must go shopping for new wardrobes for the both of you. Draco, you need a new winter wardrobe, as well as dress robes for our annual New Year's Celebration. And for you, Ryann, you need an entirely new wardrobe that reflects your new status, as well as a gown for the celebration, too."

Hermione was a little surprised at this. But, she understood the need for a wardrobe change. However, that doesn't mean that she will give up her muggle clothes.

"And I thought we should go today. That way we could get the clothes shopping done and out of the way. And while we are at it, if time permits, we can do some gift shopping as well," Narcissa smiled as she finished.

"When will we be going? And who is all going?" Hermione asked curiously. "Oh, and since we're going there anyway, would it be alright if I go to Gringotts before we start? I still have to settle my estate with the goblins."

"Of course," came the immediate reply. "And since we have a lot to do then, we should go after breakfast, once you all have changed, of course." The blonde witch nodded towards their clothing. "Lucius has some work to do today, but unless Io has any work to do as well, I thought the rest of us would go," she sent a questioning look to her niece.

"I'm free today. I try not to work on the weekend. It just leads to too much stress," Beckett replied.

"Splendid," Narcissa smiled brightly, "we will reconvene in one hour and floo over to Diagon Alley."

Soon enough, the family found themselves walking down the cobblestone in Diagon Alley. Whispers filled the Alley as the family walked past the scandalized onlookers. The mutterings were all the same. They had all read Rita Skeeter's article about the lost heiress, Ryann Ronan, and how, apparently, this girl was hidden in plain sight, disguised as a muggleborn who's famously associated with the Boy-Who-Lived.

They knew of the girl's family and their association with the Malfoys and Blacks. However, despite that, they were still shocked to see the young witch intermingling with the notorious family. But, what surprised them even more, was seeing her arm entangled with that of the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Beckett Blackwood.

While it was rather known for the Department Head to be in association with the Malfoys on more than a few occasions with her attendance to all of the family's festivities and amicable work relations with the Patriarch, she had never had any contact with the Ronans before that fateful night. In fact, if what the chatter says is true, the only reason Miss Blackwood would have any associations with the Malfoys was due to her work at the Ministry. It's widely speculated that she's a half blood. Her familial name is not of a known pureblood family, but the Malfoys would never stoop so low as to even speak with a muggleborn.

But, it was clear to everyone who was unabashedly staring at the group that something was missing. There was obviously something they didn't know. There have to have been because there is no other possible explanation for why the newly found heiress' arm would be romantically entangled with that of Beckett Blackwood.

However, the family didn't pay them any attention, opting to stick to their own business-ignoring the frivolity. They were aware of what statement they would be making with Beckett accompanying the young witch on their shopping excursion. Firstly, it was signifying a strong association the purple-haired witch had with the family. And secondly, it was publicizing Hermione's and Beckett's relationship. Though, at the time, they didn't realize how much of Beckett they were revealing.

As they approached the imposing wizarding bank, the group of five decided to split off with Narcissa and Draco going to do some shopping at the Quidditch shop and Flourish & Blotts, and the other three entering the Gringotts. They wanted to give the young witch the time and space she needed to settle all of the documents and estate with the assistance of her godmother and partner. As Hermione and her companions entered Gringotts, they made their way over to the counter of the Head Goblin, Ragnok. "Good tidings, Sir. I am here, in need of speaking with the account manager of the Ronan estate." She spoke respectfully-you knew not to want to be on the wrong side of a goblin.

The goblin looked affronted for a moment before he cooled his features. He recognized the dark witch and the purple-haired witch, but not the young witch who had spoken. He ignored the greeting, however, "and just whom is requesting such an inquiry?" He said, equally respectfully, lest he wanted to insult the most dangerous living witch and an important Ministerial official.

Hermione was a bit thrown off by the curt address, but she nonetheless responded before her godmother could hiss her lethal venom at the blunt goblin. "I, Hermione Ryann Lyra Ronan, am requesting to speak with my family's account manager. I am in need of settling my inheritance and family's estate." The young witch spoke assertively, though her voice remained low, very aware of the few present wizards attending to their business.

Stunned again, Ragnok looked over the girl's features, just now recognizing the familial looks of the Ronan and Whelan families. She looked like a harmonious blend of her parents, Brendan and Maeve. He nodded his head in deference, "of course, Miss Ronan. I apologize for my offense. However, I must inspect your wands to confirm identities before any further business can commence." He relayed carefully, wary of the dark witch's narrowed gaze.

"Of course," Hermione responded before handing over hers, which lead the other two witches to do the same.

Ragnok first inspected the dark bent wand. "12 3/4 inches, walnut, dragon heartstring, unyielding. This wand belongs to one Bellatrix Lyra Lestrange." He handed the wood back to its owner. Picking up the next wand, "10 3/4 inches, vine, dragon heartstring, rigid. This wand belongs to one Hermione Jean Granger," he declared whilst handing the wand back. Ragnok took ahold of the third and final wand before he spoke especially quietly. "12 inches, ebony, dragon heartstring, unbending. This wand belongs to one, Io Cassiopeia Black; a name that hasn't been uttered for eight years."

The Head Goblin said before handing the wand back to the stunned witch. "Do not worry, Miss Black. Everything said here is of the utmost confidentiality," he said before coming around his tall desk, "and since I am your family's account manager, follow me to our secure meeting room."

Soon enough, the small group of four entered the meeting room. "Now, Miss Ronan," Ragnok said as the four of them settled at the rectangular table stationed in the middle of the room. The goblin sat across the table from Hermione, who sat in between Bellatrix and Beckett. "Before we get onto your parents' wills, I must conduct a heritage test."

Hermione knitted her brows, confused. Hadn't she had already done one?

"Why?" Her godmother hissed. "Didn't you already confirm our identities by examining our wands?"

Understanding the witch ire, "Madam Lestrange, it is merely a protocol of ours. This bank's security is our utmost priority. When accounts such as these are being accessed, their identity has to be confirmed by blood."

Hermione nodded, finding his explanation fair and valid, but there was one word that caught her. "'These?' What do you mean by 'these'?"

The goblin didn't answer but instead pushed again, "the blood test, first."

The youngest witch even narrowed her eyes at the creature, but nonetheless, she nodded. And with her consent, a pink-looking potion, athame, and a piece of parchment appeared on the table, in front of her.

"Please prick your index finger with the athame, Miss Ronan." She did as instructed. "Now, let seven drops of your blood drop into the potion." Again, she did as instructed. "Please swirl the potion counterclockwise four times and then drop three droplets onto the parchment." As she swirled the mixture, Hermione watched as the pink liquid turned pearl white and then allowed for three drops to hit the parchment.

Slowly, the four watched as the liquid spread throughout the page, twisting and turning until they formed a loose family tree with names dating back three generations as well as a more detailed version than Snape's heritage test. Though, it seemed to the three witches that it only provided the direct line of ancestry.

Ronan

Great Grandfather: Cian

Great Grandmother: Riona

Grandfather: Eoghan

Grandmother: Cadhla

Father: Brendan

Whelan

Great Grandfather: Donal

Great Grandmother: Sionainn

Grandfather: Senan

Grandmother: Aine

Mother: Maeve

Once the configuration of the names ceased their movements, the goblin took the parchment after a moment and examined the document. Satisfied with the results, Ragnok snapped his fingers, and suddenly, three files and two ornate boxes where each had an insignia on the top. One had a teal-colored seal, and the other had a light grey wolf's head.

"Now, with your confirmed heritage results, Miss Ronan, there are several documents that you will need to review, as well as address the items, here, left to you by your parents."

Hermione opened the file before pulling the parchment out. It was pretty basic, nothing too different from the information that she had already learned. Putting it away, she closed the folder before sliding it in front of her godmother.

Next, the goblin took the subsequent two folders and placed them in front of the teen. "Now, these two are your parents' wills."

This threw Hermione. Two wills? Hermione thought. "Wait, why two wills? I thought that there would be only one."

"Oh, yes, Miss Ronan. Your parents had separate wills," replied Ragnok.

"Why?" Hermione asked immediately.

"Ryann," Bellatrix spoke up, cutting off the goblin. "Your parents created two separate wills because they were the sole heirs to their respective Houses. Well, they were the Heads by the time of their deaths."

Hermione simply made an "o" shaped expression, but she didn't say anything.

Ragnok opened up the left folder, revealing it to be her father's will. "If there aren't any other questions, I will now read your father's will." None of the witches spoke, allowing the goblin to continue. "Now reading the Last Will and Testament of Lord Brendan Ronan:

To my dearest friend, Bellatrix Lyra Black, I leave you:

One vault that contains a total of 10,000,000 galleons, 1,450,000 sickles, and 975,000 knuts.

Five Ronan properties that span over Europe, North America, and Africa.

And in the event of my and Maeve's death, guardianship of my beloved daughter, Ryann Lyra.

To my future daughter in law, Io Cassiopeia Black, I leave you:

One vault that contains a total of 6,545,000 galleons, 1,250,000 sickles, and 750,000 knuts.

Two Ronan properties: one in Great Britain and one in the Caribbean.

You have free rein to do with these properties as you please, but I do hope you chose to use one of them as a honeymoon site.

To my darling daughter, Ryann Lyra Ronan, I leave you:

The rest of the vast Ronan estate, which includes:

Seven vaults that contains a total sum of 3,460,000 galleons, 700,000,000 sickles, and 450,000,000 knuts.

Seventeen Ronan properties that span across six continents (not including Antarctica).

And the six Ronan seats in Wizengamot.

And finally, the Lordship of the Ancient and Noble House of Ronan.

"Lord Ronan had also left each of you a letter," Ragnok said before handing each with their respective letter. To which they immediately began to read.

My little Ryann,

If you are reading this letter, then it means that I am no longer alive and with you. My darling daughter, I love you very much, and it pains me to think that you have to be without me and your mother's presence in your life. If I died the way I think I am going to, then I know that you had to grow up without me. But, if you are the woman that I predicted you to be, then you would be just fine. You are a strong girl, and I know you will be an even stronger woman.

However, my child, I must warn you. Please, be wary of everything around you, for things are not as they appear to be. I do not have any concrete evidence, but my suspicions are usually on point. As I mentioned before, if I had died the way I think so, then I know that the Order and Dumbledore are responsible and that you had to grow up away from the world you were born into. Ryann, do not trust anyone who claims to be light and follow Dumbledore. They are not as they seem to be, especially the Potters, Weasleys, nor Sirius.

My baby girl, I implore you to only trust Bella, Cissy, Reggie, Lux, Lucius, the Dark Lord, and above all, Io. She is your soulmate, and no matter what, she will be there to love, support, and protect you always.

Ryann, always remembers that your mother and I love you. We will always be watching over you.

Forever loving you,

Father

.

Bella,

Hello, old friend. Now, there is no use in explaining why I am writing you this letter. You would find it to be redundant and wouldn't even let me try. I hope you can imagine me laughing because I am. Now, firstly, in my will, I referred to you as a Black rather than Lestrange because I know that you prefer to disassociate yourself from your darling husband. Sidebar, I hope by the time you are reading this letter, he is no longer around. Now getting back to the will, I'm sure you are confused about why I left you something in it. Simply think of it as a tiny piece of appreciation of our priceless friendship and your role in Ryann's life.

Regarding my little daughter, Bella, I know you have viewed Ryann to be as much of a daughter as she is to Maeve and me. So, all I ask of you is to take care of our baby girl. She will need you in our absence.

With much love, my friend,

Brendan

.

Io,

I really wish that I could have watched you grow into the exceptional witch I know you are. But, alas, I was not able to do so. Now, I am sure that you do not truly care that I left you the smallest portion of my estate. You never really cared too much about the materialistic intricacies of who got what and who didn't. But I know you would appreciate it, nonetheless. However, whether or not I gave you something wouldn't matter when you have my daughter as your soulmate. I am relieved to know that my little Ryann is destined to be with such a loving, attentive, comforting, and protective witch. Don't be surprised that I am writing this because you have been this way since the day that Ryann was born.

However, sweet girl, I did not write this in my will, for I didn't want the others to know. But, I have left you one other item. In the vault that I felt you, I have placed my mother's engagement ring. I would so love it if you were to propose to my daughter with it. Though, of course, there is no pressure for I'm sure you'll find the perfect ring to befit our Ryann.

Io, with your I entrust my everything. Love her, cherish her, protect her.

Your loving father in law,

Brendan

The three witches wore thoughtful expressions after reading their respective letters, each contemplating the words they read.

Hermione had felt the love and warmth in her father's words. Though, she understood the severity behind his words. While a part of her didn't need his warnings, the other part was appreciative of it. The lies and deceit of the Order and Dumbledore were evident and blatant now that the thin veil was no longer clouding her vision. Her father was right about that, but one thing he mentioned, or instead failed to mention, was a warning about Andromeda. It was apparent that when he had written this letter, he was unaware of her true intentions and betrayal, not until it was too late.

However, despite all that, his words saddened her. It wasn't fair that the only memory she will have of him for a long time coming would be this letter. She didn't get to hear his voice again. She didn't get to see his face one last time. She didn't get the chance to have this conversation in person. And this letter just reminded her of that. And that is why Hermione is staring at the letter with a single tear sliding down her face.

Bellatrix, herself, was sitting there in a bittersweet slump. It had been so long since she heard or rather read any words that came from one of her dearest friends. The fact that he had left her a letter with his will was touching and made her heart soar and hurt. She was happy to have some final words from Brendan; it meant a lot. This was his way of saying goodbye.

Brendan had always known of her feelings towards her goddaughter and how she viewed the young girl. He had known of her maternal love for Ryann and acknowledged it in his letter, asking her to take care of their daughter-hers, Brendan's, and Maeve's. And she will.

On September 19, 1979, when Bellatrix first laid eyes upon that freshly born baby girl, she made a promise to herself to love, cherish, and protect her as any mother should. When her best friends were murdered and her goddaughter was taken, she made another promise to herself: that she would find Ryann, even if it was the last thing she would ever do. And now, today, she made one last promise to herself and to Brendan and Maeve. She will be the parent and love, cherish, and protect her in her real parents' stead. And with that promise, Bellatrix was finally able to say her last goodbye to her departed friend.

Beckett fared better than her two companions upon reading her father-in-law's words. While she was stunned at him having written her a letter, she was, nonetheless, appreciative. He had always cared for her, and this letter further showed that. She was comforted by his acknowledgment of her relationship with Hermione. Brendan had always accepted it and the fact that he was happy that it was she who was destined to be with his beloved daughter. He knew of her love and protectiveness and praised it. Though, she was shocked to have been given such an heirloom, hoping that she would propose with it. It meant a lot to her that he said that his greatest gift to give her wasn't something materialistic but rather his blessing. She noted, however, that she would need to get it at a later date, one where she is not in the company of Hermione.

"Miss Ronan," Ragnok said, breaking the silence and pulling the witches out of their respective worlds. "We still have your mother's will to review."

"Of course," she replied, simply, her voice thick with emotion.

Nodding, "Now reading the Last Will and Testament of Lady Maeve Whelan:

To my best and closest friend, Bellatrix Lyra Black, I leave you:

One vault that contains a total of 13,750,000 galleons; 2,450,000 sickles; and 1,045,000 knuts.

Four Whelan properties that span over North and South America and Eastern Asia.

And in the event of my and Brendan's death, guardianship of my beloved daughter, Ryann.

To my future daughter in law, Io Cassiopeia Black, I leave you:

One vault that contains a total of 9,237,000 galleons; 1,045,000 sickles; and 850,000 knuts.

Two Whelan properties: one in Canada and the other in the Netherlands.

You have free rein to do with these properties as you wish, but I hope you choose to use them as vacation homes.

To my darling daughter, Ryann Lyra Ronan, I leave you:

The rest of the vast Whelan estate, which includes:

Six vaults that contain a total sum of 4,665,000,000 galleons, 780,000,000 sickles, and 440,000,000 knuts.

Nine Whelan properties that span across Europe, North America, and the Pacific Islands.

And the three Whelan seats in Wizengamot.

And finally, the Ladyship of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Whelan.

Neither of the three witches were not entirely shocked by Maeve's will. Really, it was very similar to Brendan's, and again they weren't surprised when Ragnok informed them that the late witch had also written each of them a letter. However, they were confused when he told them that they were requested to read them later and privately. Agreeing, nonetheless, the group moved on to the rest bit of the business, focusing on the two boxes.

"Now, with that settled, on to the next two items," Ragnok declared as he grabbed the two wooden boxes in front of Hermione. "Since the two items have the same contents, we will cover these at one time." The three witches nodded their heads. "Miss Ronan, these two boxes were your parents': your mother's," he gestured to the box with the grey wolf insignia. "Your father's," he gestured to the other with the blue seal insignia. "And now they are yours," he pushed them to the spot right in from of the youngest witch.

"Now, Miss Ronan, to open them, it requires your blood. Once your blood is keyed to them, it will only open to you until you pass on the mantle to your future children." This caused Hermione to blush and Beckett to smirk at the statement. The goblin, though, ignored that as he grabbed the dagger. "Finger, please," he held out his claw-like hand for her to rest her hand on his before pricking her finger. "Now, smear some blood on the top of the seal and then on top of the wolf. They will glow, displaying that they have been keyed to you."

Hermione did as instructed, and the three witches watched as the insignias glowed the colors the represented their respective houses. Once the glow dimmed, they watched as boxes slowly opened.

"Miss Ronan, the first and most important items in these boxes are your house rings. Once you put them on, they will adjust to your finger size."

As she listened to him speak, she placed the Ronan ring onto her left pointer finger and then put the Whelan ring onto her right ring finger.

Next, he pulled out two identical black quills. "Now, I imagine that you'll only need to use one of these, but these are your blood quills."

"Excuse me?" Hermione jerked back.