Chapter Twelve
By the time Sirius crawled his arse out of bed on Christmas morning, it was nearly nine, and he rubbed his eyes blearily as he came down the stairs to find his wife in the kitchen. "Where are the kids?" he asked.
"Already over at the Manor," Hermione replied, smirking at him in amusement. "I believe they dragged Regulus out of his flat as well to help get things set up. Everyone else, including us, are expected to arrive a bit before noon. This is according to Lycoris, mind you, and at this point I've learned not to cross her, so I plan to be prompt."
"Merlin save us when she and Cedrella gang up," he grinned, taking a seat next to her and pouring himself a cup of tea. "Or alternately, she and Dorea. Women!"
"I resemble that remark, Sirius," she teased.
"Yeah well, I don't like it much when you team up with Cor, Cedrella, or Dorea either," her husband remarked. "I've said it before, Hermione, but you might as well have been born a Black. You certainly fit in well enough. Strong willed obstinate women, the lot. Every single one of you likes to get your way!"
"I'll make no apology for that, love," Hermione laughed. "It isn't as though you Black men are much different. Bull headed, each and every one of you. I have no idea how Arthur missed out on the gene. He was always so gentle and willing to compromise."
"I think he's far more a Weasley than a Black," he said. "Slytherin tendencies aside. Besides, if he'd been more like the rest of us Black men, he and Molly would have killed each other. She's certainly got that strong willed woman thing down in spades. Anyway, good thing the kids are gone. I think it's probably best I give you your Christmas present privately."
"Color me intrigued," she replied, wondering what on earth he might have gotten her. "Although admittedly, I had much the same thought in regard to your gift. No, it's not lingerie."
"Aw, bummer," Sirius pouted. "I was getting excited there for a moment."
"I think you'll like it anyhow," she mused, fairly confident in her assessment. "You want yours first?"
"Probably wise, as yours will distract you between now and when we leave," he admitted, smirking.
Well, Hermione thought. Now she was very curious indeed. With a nod, she wandlessly summoned an envelope from her study. As usual between them, there was no fancy wrappings, and with a look of curiosity Sirius pulled what appeared to be a large, blank sheet of parchment out of the envelope. "Tap it with your wand and say the password," she instructed. "I'm willing to bet you can guess what it is."
He breathed in sharply, and pulled out his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Sirius whispered reverently.
Lines began to snake out along the parchment. Unlike the Marauder's Map, this one didn't show Hogwarts. It showed the whole of the United Kingdom, and it had taken her several months to pull the bloody thing together. After he'd unfolded the whole thing, she tapped it with her own wand. "Assignifico Regulus Black," she incanted. Quickly, the map zoomed to Wiltshire, and to Black Manor, where suddenly a dot representing Regulus became clear, very near to dots representing both Arcturus and Lycoris Black. It also appeared that Charlus and Dorea Potter were in the Manor already.
"Wicked!" Sirius said, grinning. "Who all will this thing show? What are the boundaries?"
"It shows everyone in the family, at this point," she said, "as well as the Flitwicks, although technically I suppose they're family as well through Regulus. They're coming for Christmas, after all. I'd like to add the Dumbledores as well, but I haven't yet. There's some spellwork where I basically imprint a magical signature onto the map and after that, it can track them indefinitely. As for boundaries, I designed it to work anywhere within the UK. I'll teach you various spells to zoom into different locations to different degrees. The development of the map - I'm calling it the Black Map - will be ongoing. The more detail we can provide it, the more detail it will be able to give us in the future. I can input blueprints and that will allow us closer looks at the interior of buildings, but until then you'll have to settle for the simple location of the building in question. Some locations - Gringotts for example - will likely never be mapped in full, but I've already got Diagon and Knockturn Alleys fairly well mapped so you'd know what shops anyone was in if you were looking."
"This is incredible, 'Mione," he said, smiling wide. "It'll be great to have a project that doesn't involve bloody politics."
"My thinking was that it would be a fun, nostalgic thing for you to work on once I got the basic groundwork done," she admitted. "In the long run, it'll be incredibly useful, especially once the war picks up. I don't know for certain if your younger counterpart and his friends will still make the Marauders Map, in the seventies, but regardless if they did or not, knowing who was in Hogwarts was only going to be so useful. Eventually, I'll be able to get Voldemort's signature and add him to the map, and we'll be able to track his location as long as he's not behind the protection of a secret kept location. I specifically did not make this map able to see beyond Secret Kept veils, on the off chance it fell into the wrong hands and they learned to use it."
"Yeah, I agree that would be irresponsible," Sirius mused. "I can think of a few things we can add to it, feature wise, though. Remus and I talked about tweaks to make to our map, but never got around to it before I… you know. For example, we wanted to make it so the dot would show up different colors to indicate different things. If someone was in Animagus form, or under the guise of Polyjuice, or under Imperius, and so forth."
"Not terrible ideas," she agreed. "If the Marauder's Map had those features back in the day, we'd have known from the off about Pettigrew, and about Crouch."
"Ergo our ideas," he remarked. "Right then, you ready for your present?"
She grinned. "Of course."
Sirius looked like the cat who'd gotten the canary. "What was the name of the House Elf we met in Beta, who'd been staying with the Malfoys? The one you knew from Alpha, who Harry freed from Lucius?"
Hermione frowned, not sure where he was going with this. "It was Dobby," she replied.
Suddenly, with a pop, there was a familiar looking House Elf standing beside her. "Dobby is happy to serve his new Mistress!"
Her eyes lit up. "You didn't!" she said, looking at her husband gleefully.
"Cost me more than I care to admit, but I managed to get Abraxas Malfoy to sell him to me," Sirius shrugged. "I know you don't like keeping Elves and you'll probably bloody free him, but he's yours to do with as you will."
Hermione grinned, turning back to the House Elf. "Dobby, do you know how to connect your soul?"
His eyes widened. "Mistress has known other Dobbys?" he asked, looking amazed.
"Yes Dobby, I have," she said, smiling. "Two other Dobbys, in fact, so brace yourself."
As she expected, his finger came forward and pressed into her forehead, and a moment later he was stumbling backward. She reached out her hand and steadied her trusted friend, and while his return grip was hesitant at first, it became stronger as he processed the memories. "Dobby was free! Twice!" he exclaimed.
"Three times," she replied, "if you'll allow me."
He shook his head. "It is not done here. In Dobby's heart, he knows he is free, and for now that is being enough, Mistress Black. There is being too many questions if Dobby is freed now. You is a wife of a Pureblood. Too suspicious."
She sighed, knowing he was right. "You tell me if you ever change your mind, alright?"
He shrugged. "Mistress, I be serving you and your cause either way, so it be making little difference. The choice is being mine, and Dobby knows this." He turned to Sirius. "I is thanking you for buying me from Master Malfoy. If the first Dobby you be knowing was to be an indication, this Dobby's future was not meant to be… pleasant."
"I have hopes that Lucius can yet be redeemed, and be a better man than you might recall," Hermione admitted.
"More like Master Lucius in the second Dobby's mind?" the Elf asked.
"Yes, more like him," she said agreeably.
Dobby let out a sigh. "We be taking down Voldymort again, isn't we?"
"That's the plan, mate," Sirius replied.
The House Elf shrugged. "Maybe third time is being the charm."
Hermione hadn't laughed that hard in weeks.
Minerva was startled when the Floo in her personal quarters at Hogwarts came to life first thing Christmas morning. She was planning to go up to Ross Abbey later to visit with her parents and brothers, at least for a few hours, but she certainly hadn't anticipated any holiday guests at half past eight in the morning. Good bloody thing she'd already gotten dressed, she thought as she left her en suite office and moved into the living area. "Orion?" she greeted. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you," her lover grinned. "Wanted to wish you a Happy Christmas, you know."
"You're an idiot!" Minerva exclaimed. "Surely Walburga will miss you, today of all days!"
"Oh, I told her I was headed over to the Manor to help with set up. Aunt Lycoris will cover for me if she bothers to ask, and Walburga hates the family gatherings, so she won't be there until noon when everyone else is arriving. I have a couple of hours, and I wanted to spend it with you."
"I'm still baffled at the notion that your bloody aunt is covering for us," Minerva grumbled, falling into a kiss.
"She's basically my Mum," Orion reminded her. "You know how Mums are. They'll do anything for their kids' happiness, and she knows Walburga makes me miserable, and you make me happy. Simple as that."
"What if she tells your father, though?" she asked. "Merlin knows those two are close."
He shrugged. "She won't, Min. There'd be no point in it. Stop thinking like a Gryffindor. We Slytherins don't do things unless there's a good reason for it."
"Oh really?" she said scathingly. "So pray tell, what is your good Slytherin reason for shagging me?"
"Love," Orion whispered, nipping lightly at her ear. "Best reason of all. What time are you off to the Abbey?"
"In about two hours," she moaned, arousal beginning to flood through her as his hands deftly began to unbutton the fasteners on her robe.
He gently nudged her back toward her bedroom. "Plenty of time, then. Let me give you your Christmas gift, darling."
Absently, she thought that it would be a great deal easier to put up with Robert and Malcolm's antics this afternoon on the other side of an orgasm, much less her parents' criticism. "Fine," she muttered, falling back on her mattress, uncaring of the fact that she'd never made the bed this morning.
Orion's naked body fell onto hers, and the familiar sensation of guilt swept over Minerva. It was muted these days, the act of repeated adultery dulling the sensation. Still, she knew right from wrong, and knew that going to bed with another woman's husband fell firmly in the latter category, no matter how much she found Walburga Black to be a loathsome woman. Orion had confided recently that the other Witch had suffered a miscarriage, and that had elicited a feeling of sympathy in Minerva toward her lover's wife that felt foreign in her gut. She'd never felt sorry for Walburga in her life and she hated to start now, but she'd known enough women who'd gone through that who she had cared about to not understand the emotional suffering of the experience, and very much did find the thing worthy of pity. No woman, no matter how dreadful, deserved to lose a baby. Not even Walburga.
Still, the love Minerva felt for Orion overshadowed the pity for Walburga and the guilt she had for being a mistress, the fact that Lycoris seemed to be advocating for their relationship almost justifying it in her mind. Orion's aunt had even provided them with a Secret Kept cabin to meet at, so they no longer had to risk meeting in Knockturn Alley. He rarely came to Hogwarts, and with good reason. It was a risk of being caught if he were here, and they both knew it, although it was Christmas today and the rest of the staff expected her to be going to her parents' place, so she didn't expect they'd be interrupted.
More rationalization, Minerva knew. It always did come down to that.
Her hips arched against his thrusts, body tingling as her orgasm began to build. Long, pale legs wrapped around his hips as she whispered soft encouragement into his ear, his heavy breathing telling her that he was close to his own climax. A few minutes later, and she came with a rush, and shortly after that, he did as well, sliding off her slowly, kissing his way down her body reverently as she panted in exertion. With his fingers, he drew another orgasm out of her a few minutes later, grinning like a schoolboy as the word fuck spilled out of her lips for the intensity of it.
Happy Christmas indeed.
After that, he flopped on the bed at her side, and after they'd both caught their breaths, he pulled her close and they just cuddled a bit. "It was reckless of you to come here today," she chastised softly. "You could have waited until next week when we planned to meet at the cabin."
"Could have," he agreed. "However I have to spend the rest of the bloody day with my family. I wanted to spend some of my Christmas with you, Min. Is that such a crime?"
"Not a crime," she replied. "I didn't even say I was sorry you came. I just said it was reckless and you could have waited."
Orion laughed. "I'm starting to think that I'm the Gryffindor and you're the Slytherin."
"A Black in Gryffindor?" she snorted. "Not in this century."
"Grandad Sirius likes to say that if Aunt Hermione had gone to Hogwarts, she'd have been a Gryffindor," he remarked. "So if that's true, there's already a Gryffindor Black."
"It doesn't count if she's married into the family," Minerva retorted.
"Does it count if they're Blacks by blood but don't carry the name any longer?" he asked, offering a cheeky grin. "I mean, Dorea married Charlus Potter, and he was a Gryffindor, so chances are any children they have could be Gryffindors. Same with Cedrella's children, since Septimus was Gryffindor. My sister's children as well. The Prewitts have been Gryffindors for ages and ages. Merlin, now that I think of it, there may be a great many Gryffindors in the Black family in this next generation."
"Gods, and I'll have to bloody teach them all," Minerva groaned. "By then I may even be Head of Gryffindor. I remember Charlus from school. He was a Prefect when we started. Head Boy later, though with his tendency toward troublemaking I don't know what Professor Dippet was thinking to give him the position. Any child of his is going to be loads of trouble, I have no doubt."
"Charlus Potter's trouble making genes," Orion laughed, "along with Dorea Black's know-it-all, sneaky tendency to get away with everything? That'll be beautiful!"
"That child will be in detention every other week," she decided right then and there.
"Likely. Maybe he or she will have a cousin or two backing them up on their schemes," her lover mused. "They'll get into all sorts of trouble, a bit like you and Anne did, back in the day."
Minerva frowned. "Don't talk about Anne, please."
He sat up on his elbow. "I thought you were fond of Anne."
"I was," she replied, closing her eyes against the pain of her deceased lover. Orion never knew they were more than just friends, nor was she inclined to enlighten him. He could understand her in a lot of ways, but in others he was still very much a product of his upbringing, and she didn't imagine he'd think well of her for taking a female lover. One day, perhaps she'd tell him, but it certainly wouldn't be now, and certainly wouldn't be when they were lying naked in bed together. "I just don't like thinking about her is all. It's bad enough I have to work with Avery every damn day."
"I wish you'd let me talk to my Grandad Sirius about him," Orion complained for the dozenth time since she'd admitted to her discomfort regarding Tiberius Avery. "I could see to it that he was gotten rid of."
"Once again I remind you that you cannot be seen doing favors for me," she rebuked. "Besides, Professor Filch seems to have developed something of a mission to keep him off my back. She's even recruited help. Madam Dagworth and Professor Hancock have both taken to walking me between classes when they're able. Olivia claims she needs the exercise and thinks I'm good company. Dajan claims he's keen to expand his knowledge of Transfiguration. I think they're both full of Hippogriff dung and are just keeping an eye on me, but one way or another, I find I'm rarely alone outside my quarters these days. If Avery tries to approach me with one of them around, they'll all come up with some excuse to send him bloody packing. It's quite nice."
"What brought that about?" he asked, chuckling.
"I have no idea," she admitted. "It started with Agatha, so I have to assume she just noticed my discomfort around Avery and took it upon herself to assist. I can't figure out any other cause."
"See, now you're thinking like a Gryffindor," he smirked. "A Slytherin would be wondering if someone else - someone outside of Hogwarts - had arranged for your protection."
Minerva frowned. "Like who?"
He shrugged. "Not sure. Someone who knows you have issues with Avery. Probably someone who knows the history with Avery and Anne and you. Maybe one of your brothers. Maybe Wood. Could even be Flitwick, although if it were her I'd figure Professor Keating would be in on it."
Outside influence had not occurred to her, but if she were perfectly honest, it did make more sense than Agatha Filch taking a special interest. As she nestled further into Orion's embrace, enjoying the last minutes she had with her lover before they each had to be off to their respective holiday gatherings, she absently rolled her mind over the possibilities. Who did she know who knew Agatha and could have set her to task in looking after herself, and also knew the history regarding Avery and Anne?
Aberforth's mouth quirked upward in amusement as his brother made a toast to the mysterious Mage, without whom it was unlikely they'd have had Aurelius with them this year for Christmas. "I'm just so very thankful," Albus said sincerely.
"As am I," Aberforth agreed.
"No more than I," Aurelius inputted, "given it is my life the Mage saved."
"I still don't understand why you two are being so secretive about the whole thing," his brother grumped.
"Albus, I made a promise," Aberforth said warningly.
"I know, I know," the elder of the two Dumbledore siblings replied genially. "I'm not pressing, but I can't help my curiosity."
"That's a bloody fact," the youngest among them teased. "Honestly Uncle Albus, it's a wonder you weren't a Ravenclaw with your covetous nature toward knowledge."
"You're the one studying to be a Healer, dear nephew," the Transfiguration Professor bantered. "Apple and tree, I should say, although your Father is much the same. It's something of a habit among Dumbledores to be studious, in their own way. We've not all been academics, per se, but where we find our passion, we easily find excellence. Even the Squibs in the family have excelled where they strove to."
Aberforth frowned. "When did the family last have a Squib? I'm not sure I recall."
"Mum's brother Ronald, remember?" Albus said, smiling a bit. "His passion was more for that Muggle wife of his than anything else. It's a shame they never had children. I imagine cousins through him would have been good fun."
"I think he was also rather adept at fencing, from what Mum said," Aberforth remarked, remembering. "Chess as well."
"You'd be hard pressed to find a Dumbledore who wasn't good at chess," Aurelius laughed. "I know Father doesn't play much, but he beats me soundly every time I can talk him into playing a game."
"Play your Uncle," he said to his son, chuckling lightly. "At least he likes the bloody game. I'll leave that rot to the natural chessmasters. Skill does not equate passion, nor does passion equate skill."
"Which is why you are the family Potions Master," Albus remarked. "That is your passion, for which I have absolutely no skill."
"I still can't believe you almost failed your Potions NEWT," the younger brother said, thinking back to their youth.
"On the other hand, you went to Arcturus Black who was a year below you, for Transfiguration tutoring," Albus laughed.
"My sisters were nowhere near this much of a pain in the arse," Aurelius said ruefully. "Well, maybe Chastity. Modesty though, she was a good kid."
"Any idea what became of her?" Aberforth asked his son. "Modesty? I know you said Chastity is dead."
"Uncertain," Aurelius admitted. "She's a No-Maj, so it's not like I could have told her the truth about me."
"Given what she must have witnessed," Albus said thoughtfully, "and that she was raised with a Wizard for a brother, I would think the Ministry would give you dispensation to break the Statute."
"I've admittedly wondered if she's well, over the years," came a slow admission. "Hunting her down would be a trick and a half. Perhaps…"
"I'll ask the Mage if there are any contacts we can use in New York," Aberforth promised his son.
Aurelius smiled a little. "She'd be a grown woman now. Nearly forty, I think."
Albus stood. "I should get back up to the castle," he admitted softly. "Best of luck in finding your sister, Aurelius. I know your Father and I bicker like mad, but I'd not have him any other way, and there's no replacing a sibling when they're gone."
"Anything you want me keeping an eye out for in the New Year?" Aberforth inquired. He acted like he hated when his brother enlisted him as a spy in his own bloody pub, but secretly he enjoyed being someone Albus valued. They'd gone too many years estranged, after they lost Ariana, and the jealousy of youth had torn their relationship to shreds. It was still being built back up.
"I'm mostly curious right now about the Pureblood community's response to the Blacks," Albus admitted. "Sirius Black and that Muggleborn bride of his are turning things about in almost miraculous ways. I've heard of several other Pureblood families who are beginning to take more tolerant stances. It seems that Sirius has begun something of a trend."
For the second time in a single evening, Albus was giving Hermione Black credit for things without understanding he was even doing it. He credited the Mage, but had no idea the Mage was Hermione. He credited Sirius Black for the political changes going on right now, when it was Hermione Black's masterminding that was getting all of it done, even if her husband was the figurehead. Aberforth was all but certain of that. He'd only had to meet Sirius once to realize while he wasn't a complete dunce, he was no mastermind. There were few like Albus and Hermione. The great analytical thinkers of the world were well and truly a rare thing.
Too bad even they had blind spots. For Albus, he couldn't see the Mage in front of his face. For Hermione, it was her lack of ability to delegate. Aberforth hoped that Hermione, in time, would realize she couldn't save the world by herself.
After Albus left, he and Aurelius sat down at the bar for one final drink before retiring for the night. They were quiet for a time before the younger Wizard spoke. "I've decided, Father. I'm going to do it. I'll wait till I finish my Healer training in two years, but after…"
Aberforth let out a sigh. "If this is what will make you happy, then I'll support you. I can't say it will be easy for me to adjust, but I will make every effort. I do love you, no matter what. Have you decided what name you'll take?"
Aurelius frowned. "I'm uncertain about the given name. For the surname I'm leaning toward Pomfrey. I knew a Healer some years ago, a No-Mag Healer back in New York… he tended to me after Mary Lou hurt me, and never asked questions. He had to have known, of course, but there was nothing he could have done above what he did. I never have forgotten his kindness."
"Is he why you wish to be a Healer yourself?" he asked, not having known about this before.
"In part," the younger man admitted. "Part is guilt. Another part is a desire for a legacy which is less… loud. I don't wish to become noted like Uncle Albus, or even revered like you. Healers, even when they accomplish great things, are seldom noted beyond quiet acceptance that they are qualified."
"A valid observation," Aberforth allowed, thinking about how, while not nearly as famous as his brother, he couldn't step into a Potions conference without being swarmed by admirers. In his field of expertise, he was, as his son called it, revered.
He could, he would, accept Aurelius' decision. That didn't stop him from worrying though, because as a father, it was his duty to want the best for his son - his child - and no matter how old that child got, his desire to protect from the cruelty of others would remain.
Melok wasn't surprised to find Hermione alone on the side porch of Black Manor as the evening wore on. Christmas dinner had been lovely, and it was nice, he mused, to have family to celebrate it with these days. Of course, Christmas wasn't really a Goblin tradition so much, but he celebrated it all the same for Genia's sake, and for Filius'. His son had just as much a right to his human heritage as he did his Goblin heritage, and on the New Year they'd celebrate Altzeugen, the day of the year on the Goblin calendar meant to honor the ancient Goblin lords and their most sacred traditions. Today, though, was Christmas.
"I always seem to find you hiding away toward the end of these large family gatherings," Melok said, stepping outside to join her, quickly casting a spell to steel himself against the evening chill.
"I get maudlin in the evenings," she admitted. "I'm the same at home, Melok, you're just not there to see it. By this point in the evening I'm not particularly good company."
"I always think you're good company," he countered, smiling a little. "What's on your mind tonight?"
She laughed a bit bitterly. "Sirius would rather just avoid me when I'm like this, but you… oh, Melok, no matter what reality I'm in, you're as constant as the moon. Even your older and supposedly wiser self never shied away when my mood was poor. As for what I'm thinking of, well, I'm thinking of what I was doing this time last year."
"Tell me," he urged, always intrigued to learn more about her life before she'd come into his world.
"There was a mission," Hermione said softly. "Me and two others went out to what remained of Azkaban. It hadn't been a prison in years. Rather than Dementors, the place was surrounded by Inferi."
He hissed lowly at the mention of those abominations. For as much as Goblins had a reputation of walking the line between light and dark arts, there were lines even they weren't foolish enough to cross. Necromancy was one of the Forbidden Practices, in their creed. The other four were Enslavement Bonds, Kinculling, Thievery, and Pedocide. The creation of Inferi defied both Necromancy and Enslavement Bonds, and depending on who the subjects were, might also be Kinculling or Pedocide. In all ways, they were an abomination. "There were Inferi in that reality?"
Hermione nodded sadly. "Early in the war, after the Statute of Secrecy fell, the Dark Lord recruited Muggles to make good wand fodder in some of the larger engagements. In the first stroke, they were literal human shields under the Imperius, and after they'd been killed, they were raised, turned into Inferi, and then relocated to various sites to serve as guards. There were thousands of them. We got very good at using spelled fire. That mission, last Christmas, I cast Firestorm on the island once we'd finished. I never did go back and confirm I'd gotten the lot of them, but the place was ablaze when I left and would have been for days. I can't imagine many survived."
"What was so important to risk going to such a hell?" he asked.
She frowned. "Something we had to destroy before we took out the Dark Lord. Looking back, the whole thing seems so horrible, but me and Minerva and Severus actually had quite a good time on that mission. The thrill of the hunt, you know? It was still Azkaban, so the anti-henge properties were still in effect, of course. That made casting a challenge, and we resorted to swords for much of our self defense."
"Goblin made, I hope," he teased.
"Of course!" Hermione said, smiling a little. "Sirius was put out we went without him, but I wasn't prepared for him to set foot on that island again, no matter what he might have said about being fine."
"I presume by again, you imply he'd been there before," Melok concluded. "I'm also not getting the impression it was a pleasant memory for him."
Hermione sighed. "Twelve years. When there were still Dementors there and Azkaban was still a functioning prison, he was held there for twelve years, unjustly, framed for his best friend's murder."
"Gods," Melok said, looking aghast. "I mean, I knew your husband was a little mad but I didn't consider that there might be a good reason for it."
She laughed, loudly. "Oh, that's only one reason of many. His Mum was a nightmare. His best friend growing up was a bloody werewolf. As a teenager he lived and breathed for pranking and was often subjected to various Potions and Transfiguration accidents, so Merlin knows what that did to scramble his brain! Ended up in a relationship spanning several years with a man who he bullied as a student. His cousin used to put a leash on him and take him for walks sometimes. That's just the short version."
"His cousin put a leash on him?" he frowned, imagining a small child being pulled around on a lead by a larger child, like some sort of twisted babysitting.
Hermione smirked. "Sirius is an Animagus, same as me. He's a great big dog though. His cousin liked to take him for walks when he was in his Animagus form. Sirius, for some mad reason, indulged her, although they said it was a tactical thing as it made them appear like unsuspecting victims for our enemies, when really they were both bait and trap all in one."
"That's not stupid," Melok admitted.
"True, but not exactly sane, either," she countered.
He raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall Sirius mentioning something about King's Cross the last time we all got talking about mad ideas. I presume that was a reference to another thing that happened… over there."
"Just call it Beta," she shrugged. "Less weird."
He almost asked what Alpha was, in that case, but realized that Alpha was likely the world she and Sirius were born to, and Beta the one they traveled to prior to coming here. Not inclined to tip his hand of knowing they'd been to multiple realities, he snapped his mouth closed for a moment before responding in a more careful way. "So King's Cross?" he asked. "In Beta?"
"Very long story short, in Beta the odds weren't great on the best of days, and several attempts were made before I joined up to retake King's Cross Station, to get access to the Hogwarts Express line, but it hadn't been feasible to hold the position. Our forces just got overwhelmed too quickly," she explained with a reminiscent smile. "I came up with a brilliant idea, to retake the station, although it was admittedly a bit mad in concept and Sirius likes to hold that op - that and the Baker Street op - up as shining examples of my sort of crazy. In short, we merely held the position long enough to build a house around the barrier at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and then Secret Kept the house. In an instant, the Regime was cut off from the platform, but we were able to access it any time we liked, especially once we added a Floo in the house."
"That's actually genius," he admitted. "Especially in an engagement where you're outnumbered. What, five to handle the build, another two or three for warding, the Secret Keeper themself, and then I imagine ten or twelve could have held a good perimeter while you worked?"
She grinned brightly. "See, this is why we get on, Melok. Five, three, and twelve. We think so alike, you and I. It's quite ridiculous, actually, and as time passes I'm sure it will annoy those around us deeply. I knew a set of twins back in the day who finished one another's sentences. Maybe we'll end up like that."
The Goblin forced a smile in response, ignoring the punch in his gut at the mere suggestion that they might have a sibling-like relationship. It was hard to look at Hermione Black as a sister when his mind had already questioned if, in another time and place, they'd been lovers. It certainly didn't help that the very question of what may have been between Hermione and the other Melok she'd known made him deeply question the nature of his own feelings toward her, and while he did not think he was in love with her, even almost a year after meeting her, he'd more or less given up on denying that he found her attractive; body and mind.
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