"Hermione," a feminine voice whispered.
The young witch stood up in the meadow and looked around curiously. A gorgeous river ran through it and she yearned to go to it. She spied Lily Potter sitting at a small round table and slowly made her way to her instead. "Am I dead?" Hermione asked, sadden by the thought of leaving her family behind.
Lily smiled at her and shook her head negatively. "If I allowed you to cross that river you would be. You are in a coma," she informed the girl. "Critical condition. Your mother is beside herself worried, your father is devastated and Leland is lost without you."
"The others?" she asked curiously.
"Undeniably grateful and saddened in equal parts," the redhead admitted. "You saved Minerva and the baby from certain death. The family is grateful for that but the thought of losing you is too much to bare especially for Harry and suprisingly Fleamont."
"Grandfather loves me," Hermione said with a smile. "He is probably regretting those knife throwing lessons I begged him for."
"He is," Lily confirmed with a mischievous grin. "Fleamont sees you as his granddaughter. In his eyes, you are no different than Rose. He has yet to learn why though. Those blades you used belonged to Winter Peverell, the unknown sister to Ignotus Peverell. You are her descendant and magical heir. It's why Fleamont and Harry have such strong bonds with you. Their magic recognizes you as theirs and will for all-time."
"James, Charlie and Rose don't respond to me as the same," Hermione said puzzled.
Lily laughed before revealing, "They take after Euphemia more. Harry and Fleamont have the Peverell magic coursing through their veins just like you do. The rest of the family adores you and this last stunt has undoubtedly cemented your place in their hearts."
"Why am I here if I'm not dead?" Hermione asked curiously.
"To learn," Lily offered with a grin. "Harry is destined to take over the Wizengamot while Minerva is destined to make Hogwarts great. You, my Winter, are destined to take the Ministry and change it with Harry. We both know Harry will never be able to manage the Ministry for the long haul. He will provide opportunities for you to shine. You need to bring the Ministry of Magic forward while securing the traditions our world was built on. It will be tough and require balance but I have faith in you."
Hermione eyed Lily for a minute or two. "You want me to be Minister of Magic?"
Lily smiled and nodded. "Harry doesn't have the patience to do that job," Lily replied. "You do. You also gained so much support for your heroics on the Quidditch pitch. With the continued support of our family and friends, you could become the the youngest Minister of Magic in British history."
"Very well," Hermione agreed. She realized how much change Magical Britain still needed and she would do her best to bring it out of the corrupt and dark past and into a new era that relies on it's traditions and beliefs while incorporating new ideas as well.
"Let's get started," Lily said as a library suddenly appeared around them.
Minerva sighed wearily as she sat next to Hermione's bedside. "Wake up Mione," she pleaded emotionally. When she had recovered from her injuries and learned what had truly happened, she had been devastated. Her sister of heart had sacrificed her all to protect her and her unborn child. "We miss you Mione."
Hermione had been stabilized over the past six weeks and recovered enough that Poppy insisted she be transferred into her care at Hogwarts. Hermione had been transferred from St. Mungos yesterday. Hector and Poppy had remained by her side throughout it all. They had just recently moved into the healer rooms at Hogwarts to remian close to their daughter.
"Any improvements," James asked as he came into the private room in the Hospital wing with the rest of the family.
"Her magical core has healed completely since she arrived at Hogwarts," Poppy answered. "I have no answer for that either. It should have healed weeks ago but didn't."
"Maybe she just wanted to be home," Harry managed to say. He had been in agony each time he thought of Hermione and how she had saved his family without any regard to herself. "We need you Winter," he whispered emotionally as he kissed her forehead. "I need you Winter!"
"You're a bleeding heart," the pale girl on the bed croaked out.
"Mione," he gasped suprised.
Poppy shoved him out of her way and started diagnosing spells. "Her vitals are all normal," she said relieved as tears fell from her eyes. She drew her daughter in her arms and cried relieved tears.
"Mum," she whispered emotionally as she felt her mother's magic surrounded her.
"You're suffocating her dear," Hector gently teased his wife.
"Daddy," Hermione said and held her hand out to him.
Hector wasted no time wrapping Hermione and Poppy both up in his arms and allowing his relieved tears to fall down his face unashamed. "I'm here princess," he whispered near her ear as he kissed her cheek.
"How bad are my injuries," she finally asked her mother. She was realistic enough to know a fall like that would leave some sort of damage.
Poppy sighed and closed her eyes briefly. She tucked an errant curl behind her ear before answering her child. "You were in critical condition. You managed to break most bones in your body. Your major organs had to be regrown and you drained your magical core more severely than anyone has witnessed before. I honestly don't know how you survived a fall like that without surrounding yourself with your magic."
"Minerva's magic surrounded me," Hermione interrupted. "I felt my scar flare to life."
"What?" Poppy said as she withdrew her wand and cast another spell on Hermione's chest. "Minerva's magical signature is faint but there. Can you withdraw your magic from her Minerva?"
Minerva looked as startled as Poppy but closed her eyes and focused on drawing her magic back. "Oh my," she muttered as she felt the depth of what her magic had done. She gently tugged Hermione's gown down to reveal the scar. The Gryffindor mascot was now in the shape of a lioness standing fiercely atop a pile of snow and scottish foilage. Winter was wrote in Minerva's elegant handwriting underneath the lioness. "How is that possible? I was unconscious yet there's no denying that is my handwriting branding her."
"Look at Heart's mark," a voice whispered in Harry's ear.
Harry moved to Minerva and tugged her top down slightly to reveal her own tattoo. At the end of her name were snowy paw prints. "Seems like you both branded each other," he said then looked at Hermione critically. "You already knew that though, didn't you Mione?"
Hermione smiled at Harry and nodded her head. "Lily told me," she whispered sadly. "I almost died but she met me before I could make it to the river. Once that is crossed, there is no coming back."
"What did Mum say?" Harry asked curiously.
"Too much to recount," she answered honestly. "She did inform me why our sibling bond is so strong though." Harry raised his eyebrow and waited for the answer. "Apparently my birth mother was from a long line of squibs," she whispered. "Winter was the younger and rather unknown sister of Ignotus Peverell. I am her descendant and our magic recognizes each other as siblings."
"Rose and Charlie doesn't react to you like that though?" Sirius said puzzled.
"James, Charlie and Rose take after Euphemia more magically," Fleamont said as realization hit him. "Harry and me have more Peverell magic."
"And have a stronger bond with me," finished Hermione with a smile. "Lily also said you were regretting those knife throwing lessons Grandfather."
Fleamont chuckled and nodded his head. "Indeed I am! I'm rather grateful you managed to talk me into that extra wand though," he answered honestly.
"Knife throwing lessons?" exclaimed Euphemia horrified at the notion.
"You really didn't expect us to spend that much time in the library, did you?" smirked Hermione. "Grandfather hasn't managed to learn to tell me no yet."
"Nor will he ever," muttered James prompting the rest of the family to burst out in laughter.
"We got those bastards," Sirius said as he entered the Hogsmeade Cottage.
"What bastards," Harry asked as he sat next to his wife.
"Those responsible for the attack at the Wizenmagot and Hogwarts," Fleamont answered as he entered the cotttage.
"Really," Harry asked suprised. All of the leads had so far yielded no results.
"Arthur Weasley had the last hoxcrux of Dumbledore's," James revealed wearily. "The goblins are certain that was the last one and it has been destroyed."
"Albus bloody Dumbledore," Minerva said in shock. The man had been dead for years and waas still causing her family grief.
"Arthur Weasley has been potioned for decades by his wife," Fleamont revealed. "Its doubtful he was competent enough to mastermind the attacks though they are blaming him anyways."
"Molly is the mastermind," Sirius added. "She won't be blamed for it but Ida Ross is already dragging her down."
"Gran is?" Minerva asked suprised.
"Along with Mother," James added with a grin. "Turns out the youngest two Weasleys aren't Weasleys at all."
"That news breaks tomorrow," Fleamont informed them. "Turns out Albus Dumbledore had children afterall."
Minerva and Harry just sat speechless at that.