Chapter Four

Wedding plans were in full force as January came to a close, which both surprised Hermione and didn't all at the same time. While the Blacks on a whole were excited at their Head of House's miraculous return, they were all adamant that everything out of order get put in order as soon as possible. That meant that Sirius was reinstated as official Head within days of their arrival, which Arcturus was pleased with, and while some members of the family were gaping like fish at the notion that she was less than Pureblood, it also meant getting Sirius married to the woman he'd brought back with him sooner rather than later because propriety demanded nothing less. They weren't sharing a bed at Grimmauld Place right now - Merlin love this era's prudishness - but Sirius had made quite the fuss about how he didn't see much of a point of sleeping apart given he'd been bedding her for quite some time now. This, of course, had just made the women in the family lurch forward with the wedding planning and the men offer their keys to Gringotts to get it done quickly, Muggleborn or not. None of them would stand for their Head of House shacking up with anyone in such a manner, especially not publicly. Hermione almost felt bad for how Sirius was damaging their tender sensibilities.

Despite the celebratory nature of wedding planning, there was still a sense of grief lingering in the House of Black. Sirius and Hermione were struggling, personally, to let go of the friends and loved ones they'd left behind in the other reality, and while Hermione had been spending time with this reality's Melok, he wasn't the same as the Melok she'd known before. She knew, as a matter of inevitability, that she'd meet others who she'd known in previous incarnations, and was struggling to reconcile the differences. In fact, just yesterday she'd been introduced to an almost four year old Bellatrix Black, and her four month old sister Andromeda. That had nearly blown her mind to think that the tiny, impish little girl who kept asking if she had any sweets would grow up and either become someone she'd regard as a dear friend, or one of her greatest enemies.

Further along the line of grief, Sirius' newly adopted son, Regulus, had confided that in his Father's absence, he'd contracted Menspina Mors. While the Wizarding equivalent of Polio had been all but eradicated by the nineties, it was still running rampant in the fifties and sixties, and while Sirius had admitted he'd known Regulus Black had died sometime in the late fifties, he'd never learned the cause. While Polio might have been largely curable among Muggles, Menspina Mors was always terminal. It took years to kill a Witch or Wizard, but ultimately, motor function would decline, then organ function, and eventually, they would die. Meanwhile, Sirius was trying to breath new life into the House of Black and Regulus admitted that he wanted to be part of this brave new era for the family, although he was hesitant to take a wife and give her a child, knowing full well he'd leave her a widow and their child an orphan in just a few years. Absently, Hermione thought of Melok, who had confided that he and his wife were considering the idea of having a child themselves, and were stuck on the decision of whether to have that child by way of genetic donation or naturally between themselves. She had known a version of Filius Flitwick who'd been born either way, so she wasn't particularly fussed with how it turned out, but a desire to help Regulus in his own quandary made her consider urging Melok to speak with Regulus about being the donor. It would, after all, solve both of their problems all in one. Melok wouldn't need to worry about a genetic father butting into his child's life, as Regulus would only be alive for a few years into that child's life anyway. Regulus, in turn, would gain a contribution to the future that represented the way the Blacks were changing their mindset to include an equal rights ideal, and could die in peace knowing he did that without leaving some poor Witch a widow, or a child a true orphan. Yes, Hermione mused, she'd suggest it to Melok and see what he thought.

"Father is looking for you," came a woman's voice.

Hermione looked up from her place seated on the sofa in the Library. "Thank you Lycoris. Where is he?"

"Sitting room arguing with Uncle Phineas and Uncle Cygnus again," the other woman sighed. "They best settle on what to do about Marius soon, or I'm going to lose my mind."

"You and me both," came an easy admission. "They've been going in circles over it for a week now."

Lycoris shrugged, and then turned and left without another word. Hermione stood and made for the stairs, not taking long to hear the raised voices of the three men in the sitting room. The words being shouted were nothing new and honestly, she wasn't entirely sure what help she was going to be to the situation, because they all had valid points. Marius was Cygnus' son and if they were merging the family again, Marius did have a right to know the truth, given it was Sirius' rules that forced Cygnus to disown him when he was born a Squib. On the other hand, Phineas and Ruth had raised Marius from the day he was born. He knew no other parents. He was thirty-five years old and nothing was going to change the fact that he'd spent the entirety of his youth and young adulthood viewing his Aunt and Uncle as his parents. To ask him to accept Cygnus and Violetta in that manner now was ludicrous.

"What about Pollux, Cass, and Dorea?" Cygnus asked. "Don't they have a right to know their brother? Dorea especially, for Merlin's sake. She wasn't even bloody born when he was sent away!"

Hermione stepped in the room. "I don't think anyone is suggesting they don't know him. For the time being, however, why can they not know him as their cousin? Are you not a Slytherin, Cygnus? Is it beyond you to reason with your children that they, for the good of this change of attitude your brother and I are trying to encourage, make extra effort with their Squib cousin to justify why you want them to spend time with Marius?"

Phineas snorted. "Are you sure you weren't in Slytherin yourself, Miss Baker?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Home educated, as I've told you, Phineas. Also as I've told you, please call me Hermione. I'm marrying your brother, for Merlin's sake."

"Still fuzzy on what you see in the arsehole," the formerly disowned Black smirked. "However I concur with your thoughts on Marius. As I've said, Cygnus, I'm not against telling him the truth in the long haul, but I know you, brother, and you've always been one to take advantage of every opportunity. That's not a criticism, it's just reality. I don't give a damn who gave birth to him, but Marius is my son, and I will protect his interest, and I will not allow you and Violetta to use him as a prop to gain favor now that it is suddenly politically ideal in this family to be tolerant of things which are not Pureblood!"

Cygnus sighed heavily. "What will it take to prove to you that I genuinely just want to be able to speak to my child honestly for the first time in his life?"

Sirius chose that moment to interject. "Phineas, I don't think you can be objective here. Hermione, do you have a suggestion on a method, or perhaps timeline? I think Phineas has a valid point about not wanting to see Marius used as a prop, but I also know what it feels like to be separated from your child…"

Hermione pursed her lips, seeing both sides. "A year," she mused. "You've waited this long, Cygnus, I can't imagine waiting one more year is too much to ask. A year from now the novelty of having a Squib son to represent your personal stance on tolerance will have worn off, and it also gives you more than enough time to come up with other ways to prove to your brothers that you are as tolerant as you claim and that you have no desire to use Marius as a prop, but simply want to connect with your estranged son. This also gives Phineas and Ruth time, I believe, to prepare Marius for interacting with the Pureblood community, because while I am thrilled to see all of you making accommodations for those of us not of pure Wizarding lineage and so forth, it is not unreasonable that those of us not born of the fold also respect your traditions as best we can."

Cygnus offered her a nod of appreciation. "I believe I can accept those terms. Phineas?"

The older of the arguing brothers nodded. "Me as well. Marius' world is already changing so much, coming back into the Wizarding world. We've been so isolated. His brother went to Hogwarts, of course, but short of trips into Diagon Alley now and then, we've been living Muggle. So much is changing and I didn't want to…"

"...overwhelm him," Cygnus agreed. "That's more than fair."

"Alright then," Sirius said. "Shake on it, men."

Phineas and Cygnus shook hands, sealing their agreement to wait a year to speak with Marius. After that, Sirius dismissed his brothers, who both headed to the Floo in the kitchen and saw themselves out and back to their respective homes. "Well that was fun," Hermione teased.

Her lover flopped on the couch. "My jaw hurts with all this speaking properly lately. I want to run around saying fuck every other word and I know I bloody can't, and the worst of it is that I can't even go to bed with you at night and say it in the proper context."

"Not yet," she said pointedly. "Did Lycoris decide on a date yet? I am, by the way, deeply amused at the fact that in Pureblood society, the bride has basically no say in the wedding planning."

"Me coming back is apparently a big deal and all the big wigs of society will want to attend the wedding, so she tells me we have to wait another month," Sirius groaned. "She's nailed down February twenty-fifth for me. I told her that was alright. I hope you don't mind."

"Fine by me," Hermione shrugged. "It's not like my parents, or brothers, are going to be able to come, so as long as I'm told time and place, I don't really give a toss what other plans are made. I'd like Melok to be there."

"Cor wants you to choose four bridesmaids," he said, frowning. "She ought to be one herself, I think. Fitting given she'll be your step-daughter, but I haven't any ideas for the other three. Thoughts?"

"Cedrella for one, I suppose," she said. "For the novelty if nothing else, I'd love a Potter to stand by my side, so I'll snag Dorea if she's up for it. That's three. How about Ruth for the last? I'd enjoy ruffling some Pureblood feathers by having a Muggle woman standing as one of my bridesmaids."

"Wish I could green light that, but it's a magical wedding and the bridesmaids and groomsmen do play a role," Sirius said, wincing. "Ruth wouldn't be able to cast the proper spells."

"Bugger," Hermione huffed. "Alright, Genia Flitwick then. I know I haven't actually met her yet, but it'll give me a good excuse to invite Melok and her both, and I've been wanting to meet her anyway. Minerva always said they were good friends, back in the day…"

"Which Minerva?"

"Gods, we need to start figuring out how to differentiate, or this is going to get confusing," she groaned. "How about we start referring to our original world as Alpha, and the one we were in last as Beta, and if we're talking about where we are now we don't use an extra word at all. So if I say Alpha Minerva, then I'm talking about Minerva McGonagall, who was my Transfiguration Professor for six years, and if I say Beta Filius, I'm talking about the Headmaster of Hogwarts who helped me get my Charms Mastery. Make sense?"

Sirius nodded in agreement, then grinned. "So which Minerva?"

"Oh, Beta Minerva," she laughed, "Alpha Minerva never mentioned Genia. I knew she and Filius were close but I never knew why. It makes sense now, if I put into context that she was friends with his parents."

Her betrothed leaned back in his seat for a moment, and then rolled forward and stood. "As fun as talking is, I do have work to get done. Whoever said being Head of a Pureblood House meant sitting on your arse all day doing nothing was full of shite. No wonder Arcturus was happy to hand the title back, the jerk. Did you know that we own twelve companies with over fifty subsidiaries? Do you know how much work is involved with managing all that?"

"Hire a manager, love," Hermione suggested. "Meanwhile, I think I'm going to go to Diagon Alley for a bit. I was up in the Library before and was looking for a specific book you had in our time but don't seem to have now, so I guess you or whoever hasn't purchased it yet. I'm fairly sure it's already published, so I'm going to go look for it at Flourish and Blotts, alright?"

He waved her off, looking half defeated as he slumped toward his study. Hermione grabbed her cloak off the hook in the kitchen and then Floo'd directly to the Leaky Cauldron, and from there made her way into Diagon Alley, and down the way to the bookstore. She hadn't been in the store browsing for more than ten minutes before she heard the bell over the door jingle again, and a moment later, a very familiar voice spoke.

"Good afternoon, Mister Blott," the gentle, feminine voice said.

"Miss McGonagall," the owner of the store replied, good cheer in his tone. "A pleasure as always. What are you after today, dare I ask?"

Hermione turned around slowly and crept forward, getting her first look at a twenty-eight year old Minerva. The voice was the same, and while she had seen a few pictures, shown to her by her former Professor years ago, those images had nothing on reality. The woman was stunning. She felt her breath catch, remembering the feelings that had coursed through her during her last encounter with Beta Minerva, and had to push her magic down to prevent it from reaching out naturally to its harmonic equal, not six feet away. Everything inside of Hermione wanted to use this moment to begin a relationship with Minerva, but the reality of the matter was that doing so would only complicate her life, and for as much as she wanted Minerva in her life, she didn't need her in her life to achieve her aims.

The only thing she'd indulge would be a brief introduction, as Minerva was chatting with Mister Blott while Hermione was struggling to breathe, and Hermione had found the book she was looking for and needed to pay for it. Ignoring Minerva outright while they both stood at the counter would be rude. Letting out a little sigh, Hermione stepped forward and laid her book on the counter. "Excuse me," she said, glancing at Minerva as they nearly came in contact.

"No bother," Minerva replied, raising an eyebrow as she saw the title of the book: Advanced Parselmagic.

"Odd selection for a young lady, Miss Baker," Mister Blott commented. "A gift for Mister Black, perhaps?"

Hermione shook her head. "My betrothed would much rather be reading on the subject of Transfiguration, if he's reading anything of academic pursuit at all. On the other hand, I tend to read whatever I can get my hands on, and Sirius does spoil me with the freedom to expand our Library as I see fit."

"I'd heard that Sirius Black had been found," Minerva commented. "Baker isn't a Pureblood House I'm familiar with, however. Where are you from?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I'm from Molesey, but I'm not a Pureblood, Miss McGonagall. Baker is a Muggle surname, appropriate to my very Muggle parents."

"You're Muggleborn?" the Scottish Witch gaped. "Truly?"

"The Blacks are adapting, as you can imagine," Hermione shrugged. "I believe Arcturus, Lycoris, and Regulus were more pleased to have their Father back than they were upset he was intent to wed a Muggleborn, and with their support the rest of the family is, for the most part, falling in line."

"Anyone in particular giving you problems?" Minerva asked, giving a knowing look.

Hermione crossed her arms. "I take it you're familiar with the Blacks?"

Green eyes sparkled with mirth. "A bit. Is Walburga still a complete shrew?"

She couldn't help it. Sirius had warned her in advance, and Merlin knew she'd seen the portrait in the future, but young Walburga Black was, as Minerva put it, a complete shrew. "Yes!" she giggled. "It's all I can do not to hex her but I'm trying hard to behave for Sirius' sake!"

"Walburga and I were yearmates at Hogwarts," Minerva admitted. "We've never gotten on. Each of us can claim to have given the other a scar or two, and neither of us is sorry about it. I am certain that Professors Dumbledore and Slughorn were both ready to wring our necks by the time we graduated. The Headmaster, of course, was his usual oblivious self. Say, speaking of Hogwarts, you seem about my age, why don't I remember you from school?"

"Home educated," Hermione shrugged, absently paying Mister Blott for her book. "Thus my tendency to read whatever I can get my hands on. My parents never gave me a curriculum to speak of, so I just learned what I learned and moved on to the next thing. I never quit doing that - there was no point of graduation, so to speak. After they died, learning became the thing that kept me alive, and after that, it was just habit."

"Well you'd likely have been a Ravenclaw," the other woman said with a smirk. "Of course, this wouldn't be the first time I've gotten friendly with a Ravenclaw. One of my best friends, Genia, was one."

Hermione knew she probably shouldn't cement further connection between herself and Minerva, but she couldn't help herself when presented with the opening. "That wouldn't be Genia Flitwick, would it?"

Minerva's eyes widened. "Yes, in fact it would be. How do you know her?"

"I don't, actually, although I expect to meet her before long," Hermione admitted. "I know her husband. Melok was of great help in assisting Sirius and I when we got back to London. We'd both been declared legally dead, after all. It's no small task getting that sort of thing worked out. Melok and I found that we had a bit in common during the process, and I suppose you could say there's the beginnings of a friendship there. I hope to build on it, as time and propriety allows."

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "It's not often a Goblin connects with a human. How extraordinary. Consider yourself special, Miss Baker."

Hermione smirked in response. "Miss McGonagall, I've never in my life been ordinary, and I'm not about to start now. Good day to you."

She didn't look back as she walked out the door, bell over it ringing as she exited the store, and heart thudding wildly as she fought to keep her magic from reaching back toward the woman she'd just left behind. Seeing Minerva, so near and so beautiful, was intoxicating, and Hermione hoped to Merlin that it was some time before they crossed paths again, because she needed a much better plan than to just wing it if she had any hope of engaging even casually with the Scottish Witch and not being drawn in like a bee to honey.

Minerva McGonagall had been attractive enough when she'd been more than fifty years older than her. Now that they were almost the same age, Hermione felt like her first step when she got back to Grimmauld Place was going to be a cold bloody shower, because she had another month before she could take her frustrations out on Sirius.

Fuck.

Cedrella Weasley let out an exasperated sigh. "Septimus, darling, I know you're not used to all this Pureblood nonsense, but if they are willing to bend and allow us and our children back into the fold, I don't see why you can't bend a little as well, especially when that bending benefits us."

Her husband glowered at her. "I can take care of my own bloody family. We don't need your Uncle's bloody charity. We're doing fine on our own."

"It's not charity," Sirius protested. "I was a complete berk when you two got married. Cedrella was due a dowry and didn't get one. This is merely gold you are overdue, Weasley. I don't understand why you're being difficult."

"Because I'm raising my boys to understand that you work hard for what you have," Septimus ground out. "That means not taking heaps of gold from Pureblood prats who decided to develop beyond the emotional range of a teaspoon on a whim and are trying to buy away their guilt."

She almost felt bad for the man trying to fill her Uncle's shoes. Almost. Septimus was a proud man and he was not going to give in easily. Merlin knew they could use the gold; there were repairs that needed done on the Burrow that couldn't be managed with simple magic, the children were always growing and needing new clothes, and Transfiguration could only do so much, and keeping food on the table was a struggle in addition to the fact that they were squirreling away gold to pay for their childrens' educations, when it came to that. There were programs available for underprivileged children to attend Hogwarts, of course, and Peter and Arthur would qualify for that, but it wouldn't cover school robes or other supplies they'd need. It would only cover tuition. Then of course were the hundred Galleons a month Septimus insisted on putting away for their eventual retirement, accruing interest in a Vault separate from the rest of their gold.

"I'm not suggesting that Sirius doesn't have guilt," Hermione broke in. "He'd be an idiot not to. That he has guilt isn't the point, though. That he's trying to right his wrongs, is. Nobody is telling you what to spend the gold on, or when to spend it. If you want to teach your children wise financial management I think that's splendid, but do so without having to worry about if you have the means to put food on the table each night and be there to eat the evening meal with them, Septimus."

Sirius picked up where she left off, carrying forward on her steam. "There's a time and place for pride. If I've learned one thing in the last two years, it is that you cannot get back lost time. I will never be able to make up for the years I wasn't here with my family, and I will never be able to make up for the years that my own pride cost parts of my family time with one another because I felt Pureblood supremacy was more important than the bonds of love which bound us all together. I was a damn fool. I'm asking you not to be. Take the gold so you are free to be home every night to eat dinner with your sons. Take the gold so that when your children go to Hogwarts, you can afford to send them with all the supplies that they need, not just the bare necessities you can afford. Take the damn gold so you can take my bloody niece on a holiday, which she rightly deserves!"

"I wouldn't say no to that," Cedrella muttered. "France is lovely in the spring."

Septimus let out a sigh, and then waved his finger at Sirius in a semi-threatening manner. "You'll not be telling me how to raise my children? They might be Purebloods, but they aren't being brought up to believe any of that supremacy nonsense."

"Weasley, I don't believe any of that supremacy nonsense," Sirius said calmly. "Not anymore."

Cedrella let out a sigh of relief as her husband's shoulders finally relaxed, and she knew he was giving in. "Fine then, Black," he said. "I'll take the gold. I figure Cedrella can give you our Gringotts information."

With that, Septimus made a quick exit with what was left of his pride, and Cedrella shook her head. She then sauntered up to Sirius and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "If this is the end result, Uncle Sirius, I'd have had you kidnapped years ago."

Hermione snorted in amusement at her comment, although Sirius had the gall to look half offended. Her parting jab offered, Cedrella moved to follow her husband after giving Sirius a slip of parchment with their Gringotts information, although she paused just out of sight when she heard the pair speaking, curious what they would say with her gone. After all, it wasn't as though she believed this man was truly her Uncle, and it still begged to question who he really was; who they really were.

"Gods, doesn't she remind you of Ginny?" Hermione asked, laughing a little.

"Blood is blood, you know," Sirius replied. "Molly always said that Ginny favored the Prewetts in her looks, but I'm fairly certain at this point the girl was a Black through and through when it came to her personality."

"Then you think about Harry…" Hermione ventured, sounding amused.

"Poor bugger," Sirius laughed. "Oh, I don't know. They're well matched, Harry and Ginny. Not unlike Charlus and Dorea are, you know. You'd do well to get to know them."

"I feel like that much is sort of inevitable," Hermione countered. "They are family now, aren't they?"

He snorted. "They weren't before?"

"Point taken," she replied. "So, any update on wedding plans, speaking of Dorea…"

As conversation shifted, Cedrella moved away from her hiding place and toward the Floo in the kitchen, where Septimus had already gone through, back to the Burrow. She quickly stepped through the spelled fireplace and into her own kitchen so she wasn't caught by Sirius and Hermione, but took a seat at her kitchen table to ponder over the conversation she'd heard.

Blood is blood, Sirius had said. To Cedrella's recalling, there was nobody named Ginny in their family currently, nor had there been anytime in recent or even distant history. Very distant history, perhaps. In any case, whoever this supposed blood relative of theirs, called Ginny, happened to be, she was not someone who existed in the current era. That implied she was either from the very far past, or from the future. Cedrella was a logical person. She was a Slytherin and a woman, and nothing much got past her. She existed in a world of magic and time travel was a feasibility, even if traveling for more than an hour with the aid of a highly restricted Timeturner was very rare indeed. It was, however, possible.

Were these people time travelers? It would explain why her supposed Uncle Sirius was able to pass the genetic identification potions, and prove himself a Black. He very well could be, even if his name wasn't really Sirius. All the potion proved was that he was from the Black bloodline. Transfiguration, done by a Grandmaster, could have sorted out the rest of his disguise. The ring and the wand they would have had to have recovered from the real Sirius Black, but that would have been a simple matter of decent research to find wherever Grindelwald's men had stashed the bastard. As for Hermione, she could be anyone, really. She very well might be Sirius' Muggleborn betrothed, but from another time. The affection between them seemed to be real enough, which was part of what made their story so easy to believe. She did not think they were faking the nature of their relationship.

Cedrella knew her own family tree fairly well. Genealogy books were almost required reading when growing up a Black. The more she thought about things, the more she felt it likely the pair of interlopers were from the future rather than the past, and this Ginny to whom they were comparing her was likely a descendant of hers rather than an ancestor that she simply couldn't recall. That Dorea marrying Charlus Potter had been the first union of Potter and Black in something like fifteen generations was also evidentiary, when considering that Sirius had compared Charlus and Dorea to this Ginny and a man called Harry, suggesting that Harry might be a Potter like Charlus, and Ginny a Black, or if she was one of her own direct descendants, perhaps a Weasley. The evidence, Cedrella knew, was sketchy at best and all speculation at this point, but it was a working theory as to who they were that was a great deal more comforting than a theory that they were mere con artists.

After all, if Sirius and Hermione really were family, as they suggested, then could they honestly mean to do the Blacks harm? Had they come back in time on some sort of an anthropological study, from a future that did that sort of thing, or was there something bigger at play? Were lives at stake? Was the timeline? All and more were very good questions, the redhead mused, getting up to make herself some tea. That said, the boys would be up from naps soon, and she was sure that Septimus had already told Lycoris, who'd been watching Peter and Arthur while the two of them talked with Sirius and Hermione, she could go home. It was time to get supper made.

Once the boys were in bed tonight, she'd have to break it to her poor husband what a standard dowry in the Black family was. If she was a betting woman, and to be honest she was, she expected Sirius would forward an even larger sum than standard to compensate for how late in coming it was.

In an instant, there would be more gold in their vault than Septimus made in five years. He was probably going to have a bloody stroke.

Minerva McGonagall nearly tripped as a group of young people, likely recent Hogwarts graduates, rushed past her, paired off and probably headed to some restaurant for Valentine's dates. She didn't fall flat on her face because she landed firmly against the solid chest of a Wizard, who gently helped her to right herself. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she muttered.

"Not at all," he replied kindly.

Then, their eyes met and all at once they both jumped away from each other. "Orion," she choked, mind instantly recalling the last time she'd seen him. They'd spent the better part of their sixth year at Hogwarts sneaking around together, snogging in hidden places. They didn't dare get caught, and they also didn't dare have sex, both young and knowing full well what would happen if anyone found out they'd done that. Orion knew his parents were arranging a marriage for him. Minerva hoped love would win out and he'd run away with her. He didn't. The summer between sixth and seventh, he became betrothed to Walburga, and when he returned to Hogwarts, she stopped being Minerva, and began to be Miss McGonagall again.

He didn't call her Miss McGonagall now, though.

"Minerva," he said softly. "It's… Merlin, it's good to see you."

Another group of young couples passed them by, reminding her of the day, and almost bitterly, she reminded him of his wife as a response to his addressment. "It's Valentines, Mister Black. I'm surprised to find you're not with your wife," she said crisply.

Orion rolled his eyes, grabbed her by the wrist, and pulled her out of the busy street and into a deserted side alley. "Honestly, Minerva, let's not play with formalities. It never suited us. As for my harpy of a wife, she hates Valentines with something of a fury and traditionally kicks me out of the house for the day. Her brother Alphard assures me that it's not my fault. Something about how their parents used to get into wicked fights on Valentines and she doesn't like being reminded. Whatever, don't care. I stopped trying to be a sympathetic husband after the first three years of miserable marriage. At this point…"

Minerva smirked. "Walburga Black was born miserable, Orion. You bloody know that. Don't blame yourself."

"Her current misery isn't about me, thankfully," he admitted. "My Grandfather turned up alive and took back over as Head of the family, and Merlin is he shaking things up. Gran didn't survive their imprisonment, but he's remarrying a bird our bloody age, if you'd believe it. And, get this, she's Muggleborn!"

"I actually met her a few weeks ago," Minerva admitted. "We crossed paths at Flourish and Blotts. Miss Baker seemed to be rather nice. I was admittedly surprised to learn she was Muggleborn, though. That's a turn around for the Blacks."

"Yes," Orion agreed. "It's a shame my Grandfather didn't have this change of heart years ago."

"What makes you say that?" Minerva asked, raising an eyebrow.

Orion looked at her carefully, and then slowly raised his hand and touched her jawline with his fingertips. "If he had, then perhaps I never would have been forced to marry Walburga. Maybe… maybe I would have been allowed to marry you."

Her breath hitched at the declaration. Minerva knew she was still in love with Orion. He had been her world when they were in school together, and very little had changed in the years since. His gaze still made her insides melt, although she was no longer a virginal child, and nor was he. She was a grown Witch. He was a grown Wizard, and she was anything but a fool and realized that the man in front of her was very much propositioning her right now. He was a married man and Minerva bloody well knew that the Black marriage vows made divorce impossible, but with the new political situation in the family, him taking a Mistress, while something he'd certainly need to keep quiet, would be more permissible. It wouldn't be dishonorable by their code, in any case.

The question she had to ask herself was if her pride could handle being a Mistress, because that would be all she would ever be to him. He could never leave Walburga. She would never be publicly by his side. If she was his in the long term, it would prevent her from having other serious relationships. Could she do that to herself?

"Would you even still want to marry me," she asked softly, "if you could?"

Orion answered her with a passionate kiss, and as Minerva threaded her fingers through his hair for the first time since they were sixteen and felt his tongue dancing against hers, she felt like she was coming home for the first time in years.

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