Chapter Twenty One

Helen was working in the lab when her Dear Friend came walking in. To her surprise, he was not alone. "Dobby," she greeted the House Elf with a smile, "What brings you to Old City?"

"Mistress Helen," Dobby said with a deep bow. "I is being sent by Mistress Hermione. She is requesting your presence at once, at the Hog's Head."

She sighed. "Hermione does realize I have a job doesn't she? I can't just drop everything…"

"EM Shield is down, Dobby," her Butler interrupted.

"Excuse me?" Helen exclaimed.

Dobby took hold of her hand. "Thank you Master Biggie."

The next thing she knew, Helen was far away from Old City, and left to rely upon her Dear Friend and the rest of her staff to handle affairs there, as she'd been kidnapped by a House Elf all the way to bloody Scotland. "Well, I should say…" she muttered.

"Ah, Helen," she heard Hermione say. "There you are."

"I didn't exactly get a choice in the matter," Helen replied tersely. "Why have I been summoned?"

An unfamiliar man and woman sat at a nearby table with Aberforth, her attention shifting to them as the younger of the Dumbledore brothers raised his hand to wave at her. "Don't be cross, Helen," the barkeep barked. "You want to be here. Trust me."

Hermione nudged her along. "Helen Magnus, may I introduce Newt and Tina Scamander. Newt, Tina, this is Helen Magnus. I have a hunch Newt and Helen are going to have a bit in common."

Aberforth chuckled. "I did tell you that Hermione had sticky fingers in every corner, did I not?"

The man, Newt Scamander, smirked. "Hermione tells me you work with magical creatures. So do I. Actually, your name sounds familiar, now that I'm thinking of it."

"I doubt you've heard my name, Mister Scamander," Helen said, remembering what her friend had told her about how, in Beta, this man had worked with her father. "Gregory Magnus might ring more true to your recalling."

"Ah, yes!" he said with a wide smile. "I never did meet the chap, but I certainly admired him from afar. He did like to rub the Ministry the wrong way when battling for creature rights. That was ages ago, though. He must have been, what, your grandfather? Great grandfather?"

Helen examined her fingernails for a moment, and then crossed her legs before replying. "My father, actually. I'm not nearly as young as I appear. What year were you born, pray tell?"

He frowned. "Eighteen ninety seven. Why?"

Hermione chuckled. "Newt, Helen has nearly fifty years on you. She was born in eighteen fifty."

Tina's eyes widened in surprise. "But… you look… how? Hermione said you were a Squib, for pete's sake. You're not even a Witch!"

"It's complicated," she replied. "To say the least, I've been working on the frontiers of science, and with magical creatures, since before you were born. The benefits, and curses, of such a life, can sometimes be surprising. In any case, I've heard the name Scamander just as you've heard the name Magnus. We may not have crossed paths before, but our mandates, professionally speaking, do align, I believe."

"I imagine a tour of the Sanctuary would be in order," Aberforth said thoughtfully. "I'm sure James would be accommodating, and I'm damn sure he'd welcome a visit from you, Helen."

"Trying to be shot of me already, my friend?" she teased the Slytherin. She wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but among their little circle, Hermione and James aside, Aberforth had come to be the one she was most fond of and most inclined to trust. It wasn't that she distrusted any of the others by any means, it was simply that she hadn't felt a particular connection with Sirius, Melok, and Cedrella the way she'd felt it with Hermione and Aberforth. Hermione was a kindred spirit in nearly every way, and they made natural allies just by a simple understanding of one another. Aberforth, the eldest of the group, was the only one besides James who could come close to being counted as a peer to her. He was nearly thirty five years her junior, but three and a half decades wasn't much to quibble over when most she interacted with were twice as many years younger than her.

Aberforth rolled his eyes and playfully shoved her shoulder. "You wish, Magnus. Just anxious to see the look on this one's face when he sees your operation."

"Operation?" Newt inquired, raising an eyebrow.

She sighed. "I am Head of a growing global corporation called the Sanctuary Network. Our facilities, of which there are currently eight locations, houses and protects what we call Abnormals. These include all creatures on this earth which are considered monstrous by Muggle eyes, and especially takes into account the magical creatures which the Ministry of Magic is not taking responsibility for. My father began the Sanctuary. I've continued and will continue his legacy. As I stated, we're at eight locations now; we're set to open in Berlin in a few more years, and I think James has his eye on Paraguay after that, probably in Asunción."

"How many of these Sanctuaries do you anticipate opening in the long run?" Tina asked.

"How many magical creatures are out there, around the world, vulnerable and in need of help, or perilous and in need of containment?" she countered.

"I see your point," the other woman replied. "Your work will never be done. I hope you have a plan of succession in place, in case something happens to you."

"Every Sanctuary has a Head of House," Helen reported. "This is an idea, admittedly, I borrowed from Hogwarts. While I'm Head of the Network and make the logical choice given my vastly superior experience, if something were to happen to me, the current Sanctuary Heads of that time would hold a vote amongst them, and it would be one of those men and women who'd rise to lead the Network on the whole, while remaining in charge of their current House. It isn't as though the Head of the Network is required to live where I live."

"Which is where, exactly?" Newt asked.

"Old City, up in Canada," she replied. "I made the Trek to America initially in nineteen twelve, although that may not have been the ideal ship to be on at the time, even if I did end up meeting the woman who'd help me get the New York Sanctuary up and running…oh, dear Margaret Brown. Died in thirty two, and never did get to see the Sanctuary she insisted was in dire need of happening get completely built. New York didn't open until thirty-five."

Hermione crossed her arms. "April of nineteen twelve, by chance? When you decided to hop the pond?"

Helen eyed her curiously. "Yes, why?"

The younger woman let out a sigh. "Of course you were on the bloody Titanic."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time, Hermione!" she snapped. "It wasn't as if I knew what was going to happen!"

Hermione huffed, clearly getting her double meaning.

Aberforth chuckled lightly and glanced at Newt and Tina. "You'll have to forgive these two. If you didn't already know they only met a few years ago, you'd think they'd been friends for decades the way they snip at one another like an old married couple."

Helen rolled her eyes and also turned her attention back to the Scamanders. "So, if Hermione is quite through poking fun at my decades old blunders, how would you two like a tour of the London Sanctuary?"

"I think we'd like that very much," Newt said agreeably, "however if you wouldn't mind, Tina and I only just got in this morning from Italy and we're both fairly knackered. If you aren't in a rush to get back to Old City, could we perhaps do the tour later this evening, or even tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is fine," Helen replied with a nod, thinking she'd just need to send Dobby back to Old City to alert her staff. With that agreement in place, the Scamanders excused themselves and headed upstairs, presumably to one of Aberforth's stayrooms. Aberforth was putting some things away, and Helen turned to Hermione, suddenly realizing they hadn't really had much time to chat since everything had happened between her and Melok. "How are you holding up, darling?" she asked gently. "How is he?"

"They're managing, Helen," Aberforth replied, snorting in amusement as he moved back toward them. "Bloody idiots, the both of them, I say, but they're finding a new normal the best they can."

Hermione scowled. "I believe being obnoxiously perceptive is inherent to being a Dumbledore. He confronted us not long after I got back from Old City, saying he knew from go what had happened."

Helen gave a resigned sigh. "Ah. Well, at least you have a friend, locally, in your corner, Hermione. This cannot be easy for you or Melok, especially considering you still have to work together."

The younger woman frowned. "Narcissa was born the other week. Sirius is getting that look in his bloody eye again that makes me know he's going to start a conversation about having children again. I keep telling him I don't want to, because I can't afford to be pregnant with a war on. That's not a lie, but if I really wanted a baby I wouldn't let the war stop me, to be honest. I just don't want to tell Sirius the bigger reason I'm against having children."

"So what's the bigger reason?" Aberforth asked, not beating around the bush at all.

Hermione sighed. "Honestly, if I can't prioritize one partner in my heart, what right have I got to add a child to the mix? Especially when I know that no matter what happens, even if I had five beautiful children of my very own, at the end of the day, Harry Potter will be born, and he will always be my number one priority. That will come before any friend, any lover, and yes, before any other child. So why would I even think about giving some child of mine a complex about a mother who was willing to lay down her life for a boy who wasn't her son, but couldn't stay alive to raise them?"

"Hermione, you make it sound like you're certain of your own demise in the coming war," Helen said, frowning.

The Mage shook her head. "Of course not. I'm just being morbid, I suppose. Being what I am means I'm going to be at the front lines. No matter how powerful, and how skilled I might be, I'm still mortal. One day, my luck just might run out. I'm not sure I can gamble that my luck will hold long enough for any child of mine to reach their majority."

Helen narrowed her eyes. She'd been around far too long to not know when someone was lying to her, and while Hermione wasn't outright lying, she wasn't exactly telling the truth either. If she was to guess, there was something in Hermione's mind - be it her research or simple instinct - making her believe it unlikely she would outlive this conflict with Voldemort. It made her heart clench to think of it, as rather despite herself, she'd grown quite fond of Hermione Black.

Minerva McGonagall stepped into the Hog's Head in a desperate attempt to dodge Tiberius Avery. For a while there, he seemed to have gotten a clue that she wanted nothing to do with him, regardless of the fact that they were working together, but about a month ago he seemed to have gotten into his head that she was simply playing hard to get, and that her behavior toward him indicated that rather than being disinterested in friendship that might have been appropriate between colleagues, she was actually interested in romance. As such, presently he was attempting to corner her with promises of treating her heart with care and treating her how a woman ought to be treated by a man at every turn, and it was bloody infuriating.

To her relief, up at the school she'd found an unlikely ally in Professor Agatha Filch, who seemed oddly aware of her distaste for Avery and since he'd begun making those sorts of advances, Agatha had been nearly like a second shadow during her free periods. She was actually getting to know the woman fairly well at this point. That said, Agatha had a commitment with her son today, and Minerva had needed to pick up some things in Hogsmeade, so at present she was on her own. She was unsure if Avery would attempt to follow her into the Hog's Head, however she was sure that if he was uncouth in any way, Aberforth Dumbledore would insist he minded his manners, at wand point if necessary. That was just the sort of man Aberforth was.

"Well hello Minerva," Aberforth greeted with a small smile as she all but skidded in the door. "What's your hurry?"

"Hiding from Avery," she huffed. "Promise not to report me if he follows me in here and I slug hum?"

"I swear to you, my dear, if you clock the prat I will personally tell Albus he broke his nose by running into a door frame," the Wizard said with a smirk. "Now, how about a drink?"

Minerva sighed and walked over to the bar, to find Aberforth already pouring her something. "What's this?"

"Poison," he replied. "It only kills prats who make unwelcome advances, though, so in your case it will probably taste like top shelf Muggle brandy. You seem like the brandy sort."

She'd never had brandy before, but took a healthy swig anyway. "Merlin, this is good," she said, the taste setting well on her tongue, and the burn of alcohol running down her throat smoothly. "Good call."

"Hey Abe! Is Hermione here yet?"

An unfamiliar man and woman came into the room from the direction of the stairs that led to the stayrooms, likely guests who'd spent the night before here at the Hog's Head, although the fact that they were asking about Hermione intrigued her. "You know Hermione Black?" she asked, question tumbling out of her mouth without much thought.

Aberforth shook his head at her nosiness. "Newt and Tina Scamander, meet Professor Minerva McGonagall. She's teaching lower years Transfiguration at the moment, but she'll take over the department entirely when Albus promotes to Headmaster after Dippet retires. Minerva, Newt and Tina Scamander."

"As in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?" Minerva asked, eyes wide. This man was a legend in the magical creatures world. She, admittedly, loved magical creatures, although she hadn't thought she could manage a career in the field, opting to pursue Transfiguration instead. That did not mean she didn't try to keep up with what was new in the discipline. "It's an honor, sir."

Newt nodded. "Always a pleasure to meet a Hogwarts Professor. I say though, when I was in school, there was a Professor Minerva McGonagall then, too. Obviously you're not the same person as she, but to have the same name, first and last, is quite odd. A relative, perhaps?"

Minerva groaned. This was not the first time, nor did she expect it would be the last, this woman had come up since she began teaching. Many of her students' parents recalled this other Professor McGonagall and asked her if they were related. "From what I understand, she was a Muggleborn, and while a fine teacher, of absolutely no relation to me. Albus has said that the two of them rotated between Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts post for a number of years. She had been trying to expand her work experience, and wanted to prove to future employers she had skill enough to teach both subjects. Once she moved on, Albus took over Transfiguration completely and Professor Hardy took over Defense. That's who I had. Recently, Professor Avery has replaced Hardy."

"The man you want to slug?" Tina asked with a sly grin.

She groaned. "That would be him."

Newt chuckled. "What did the poor bloke ever do to you?"

Minerva didn't have a chance to answer, as Hermione took that moment to arrive and answered for her. "Avery married a close friend of Minerva's, the marriage forcing the girl to withdraw from school after completing her OWLs. She then fell pregnant, and upon the birth, neither she nor the child survived. Minerva is holding something of a grudge."

She might have appreciated the looks of sympathy coming from Newt, Tina, and Aberforth as the story spilled out if not for the fact that Minerva was certain she'd never shared with Hermione her background with Tiberius Avery. How in the hell had she known about that? Minerva figured, after stopping to think, that with as many functions in the Pureblood circles as Hermione attended, it was possible she'd crossed paths with the Averys and heard the tale from them, although she knew that they considered the incident a best forgotten part of their family history, and generally didn't speak of it. Still, Minerva couldn't think of any other way Hermione might have known.

Her curiosity on that subject was waylaid by the fact that Hermione had not arrived alone. In her company was a woman with dark hair, bright blue eyes, and Minerva would be damned if she didn't think there was something about this woman that felt familiar, although she couldn't place it. She cleared her throat. "Hermione, will you introduce me to your friend?"

Hermione's hand brushed the other woman's arm lightly, leading her further into the room. "Minerva, this is Helen Magnus. Helen, of course I've told you about Minerva."

"Indeed you have," this woman - Helen - replied, offering her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard such good things."

Minerva took the proffered hand, a bit boggled that Hermione had mentioned her to anyone in great detail. "A pleasure to meet you as well, Ms… Mrs?"

"Doctor, actually, if you must be formal," the woman said with a small grin. "I'm a Squib, and a Medical Doctor in the Muggle world. The name Magnus used to be more prevalent in the Wizarding world, but there aren't many in my family left. All that said, please don't stand on formality for my sake. Any friend of Hermione's is a friend of mine, likely by her insistence."

Aberforth barked out a laugh, and Minerva could hear Newt and Tina snickering lightly as well, seeming to agree with Helen Magnus' supposition that Hermione was the one determining who was going to be friends with whom. Minerva didn't disagree. "She is a bit of a force of nature, isn't she?"

"I'm passionate!" Hermione exclaimed.

"You're bloody bossy is what you are!" Minerva countered with a grin. "I imagine when you're not getting your way you have a hissy fit worthy of a five year old."

Aberforth picked up a glass and rag and began cleaning a seemingly already clean cup, whistling under his breath. Minerva smirked knowingly, taking that as confirmation. Hermione Black had many wonderful attributes, this was true, but while she might criticize Albus Dumbledore for his tendency to crave power, Minerva wasn't certain Hermione was all that different in disposition. What chilled Minerva to the bone was a keen understanding that the drive to have power was greatly in part because of how powerless they'd each felt in the wake of war, and a wish to never feel that weak again. She hoped that whatever her future brought, she wouldn't have to suffer as they did; that she wouldn't end up needing control in order to feel safe.

Seeing her was startling. Hermione had seen Minerva quite a bit, especially in the last few months as they'd been doing magical theory lessons together, and while he had met Robert McGonagall, in more than a year he'd not actually crossed paths with Minerva himself yet. She was so bloody young, Sirius thought as he stood still in the doorway of the Burrow. It was easy to understand, now, why his wife was so adamant that they preserved Minerva's innocence while they still could. The Witch might grow up to be someone he, or at least his younger counterpart, viewed as a mother figure in replacement for Walburga Black, but at this point in the timeline, she was barely more than a girl herself.

That she and Hermione were practically peers in this timeline made him feel a bit like a letch, but he reminded himself that it was less age, and more experience, that was what made all the difference. Hermione had gone through as much as he had, if not more. Minerva, on the other hand, had been too young to fight Grindelwald and Voldemort's war hadn't really gotten off the ground yet. Hermione's experience made her his peer in every way that mattered. Minerva's inexperience meant that she was still, in his mind, someone younger and in need of protection.

"Uncle Sirius!" Cedrella greeted, spotting him.

Minerva's head whipped around, and her gaze fell on him as he slowly moved from his place by the door toward where they were seated in the living room. "Lord Black," the Scottish woman said softly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. With as often as I see your wife it's a wonder our paths haven't crossed sooner."

"The pleasure is mine," he replied, meaning every word. Relative youth completely aside, it was a pleasure to finally have the occasion to cross paths with Minerva. "Hermione speaks highly of you."

"I expect you and Aunt Hermione both will be seeing Minerva around a bit more often," Cedrella said with an amused glint to her eye. "She's been named Edmund's Godmother."

Raised among Purebloods, Sirius knew full well what the social expectations of a Godparent were, and had to commend Cedrella for sorting out a means to bring Minerva into their circle without having to tell her a bloody thing about who they really were. Clever girl. He had no idea how she'd managed it, but he had to give her points for the good idea. "I shall expect to see you at future family functions then, Professor McGonagall," he said after a pause, reminding himself that it would be inappropriate for him to call her Minerva without her invitation to do so, even if reverting to her title after knowing her on a personal level for so long felt sour on his tongue. "I'm sure you'll be a splendid addition to the family."

"Yes," Minerva replied. "Cedrella and Hermione are slowly getting me up to speed on all the Pureblood protocols on Godparents and so forth. My Mum was Pureblood, but with her marrying a Muggle and all she didn't really like to talk much about the old traditions. Doesn't, I should say. It isn't as if she and my father are dead or anything. I just rarely see them. We don't get on very well, I'm afraid."

"Parents can be difficult," Sirius remarked. "Your brother Robert mentioned a standing discord with his parents, so I'm not too surprised to hear that. Is it the same for your other brother?"

The Transfiguration Professor raised an eyebrow. "Mal indulges Mum with a visit once a month, so he says, which is more than Rob and I can claim. How do you know Robert, out of curiosity?"

Sirius shrugged. "He's my Healer. We grab drinks now and then when I can talk him into leaving Mungo's for five minutes."

Minerva laughed. "Yes, that's Rob alright. I'm fairly certain his tendency to obsess with work is the only reason I haven't already got nieces and nephews. I know Lisbeth wants children, and I think she's ready to have them now. At least with Mal and Katrina, I'm fairly certain they're in agreement about waiting a few more years to start a family."

"And what about you, Minerva?" Cedrella asked, joining the conversation. "At what point will you settle down and have a family?"

The other woman laughed. "Me? Not any time soon, if ever. I'll be the spinster Aunt and doting Godmother, most likely. With my career, I haven't time for a husband or children."

Sirius' mind wandered back to Beta, thinking of Malcolm and his brothers, and to Dougal McGregor and how happy Minerva had been with her family there. He thought about the joy in her face when she learned Jean was expecting shortly following her and Malcolm's wedding, the promise of a new grandchild to add to the several she already had exciting her. That this Minerva seemed so dismissive of the very idea of having a family seemed strange to him, but on the other hand, the Minerva he'd known in Alpha hadn't gone on to have a family of her own, and she'd seemed happy enough in her life.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Alpha Minerva had always seemed a bit sad to him. He wondered if she'd always regretted leaving Dougal behind, and choosing her career over the idea of a family. He wondered if there had been other opportunities for love, men or women, along the way, which she'd set aside in favor of keeping her focus on her career. He resolved to make sure that this Minerva always knew that she had options; that she could have both career and family if that was what she wanted, or that if she wanted a family at expense of her career, she'd have support in that pursuit. He carefully worded his rebuttal. "It may seem rational to dismiss the idea of love and family considering your career path, Professor, however I've found that when it comes to love, rationality often exits the picture."

She snorted. "You would know. Pureblood Lord marries Muggleborn. How rational was that?"

"Not very," he admitted with a wry grin. "So tell me, how'd you end up being Godmother to my newest nephew?"

Cedrella answered. "She was there when he was born."

Sirius' jaw fell open. "Hermione didn't tell me that! Merlin, I'm going to strangle that woman!"

His niece smirked. "She probably knew you'd fuss, and attempt to do something horrifically Gryffindor."

He pouted, and turned to the woman who, in another life, was his Professor. "Minerva McGonagall, I am quite in your debt, it seems. My sneaky wife mentioned Cedrella had some help during the birth when she was pinned down as the attack was happening in Diagon Alley, but had I known it was you, I'd have already shown up and inquired as to what I can possibly do to thank you for your kindness."

"Merlin," Minerva said, looking amazed. "Cedrella wasn't kidding. How utterly Gryffindor of you. I thought you were a Slytherin, sir."

Hermione was going to have to fall on her sword here. "Blame my wife. She rubs off on me. So?"

"I can't honestly think of a thing," the Scottish woman replied. "If you're going to be Gryffindor about it, I suppose I'll in turn be Slytherin and just hold on to the I owe you, if it's all the same to you, Lord Black."

"I should be appalled at that notion considering you're in line to be the next Head of Gryffindor," he teased. "However, it's perfectly fair. That said, how about just calling me Sirius, yes? You're friends with my wife, and my niece evidently, and Godmother to my nephew. Formality seems a bit ridiculous, to me at least."

She nodded in agreement. "Minerva, then. Not sure how pleased Hermione will be if we end up becoming friends though. I've lost count of how many times I've heard her say, You're as hot-headed as Sirius! to me when I lose my temper during our lessons, or alternately, You're as impulsive as Sirius! when I am ready to leap into the next exciting idea and she wants to proceed with more care. Evidently we are similar in temperament."

He snorted. He'd never really thought about it, and honestly Alpha and Beta Minerva had both been older and likely far more practiced at reining in both temper and impulsiveness, so it would likely not have been so readily apparent, however looking back he could still see examples of both from each of the Minervas he'd known. He could see it in how Alpha Minerva had run off after Umbridge in defense of Hagrid, and how Beta Minerva had lost her temper on Albus in regard to the expellment of Hagrid. Actually, now that he thought about it, Hagrid seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for Minerva no matter what reality she was in. Huh. He wondered why. In any case, he supposed he and Minerva were just both very Gryffindor, end of the day.

"Well if we have similar temperaments, that bodes well for the future of your relationship with my wife," he teased. "She married me, so I expect you to be lifelong friends."

"Of that I have no doubt," Cedrella agreed. "Aunt Hermione very much has a type, when it comes to those she gets close to. You two, along with Melok… maybe Helen as well. So few can stand equal to her. So few will she allow to stand her equal."

Minerva snorted. "I very much doubt I'll ever stand her equal, you two. She's something quite incredible. Helen, though. Is that Helen Magnus? I met her briefly not long ago."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, both at Minerva's lack of self worth and at the fact that she'd crossed paths with Helen. Hermione hadn't mentioned that either. Deciding he didn't technically know Minerva well enough to start talking to her about her self worth, he addressed the other issue. "Yes, Helen Magnus. She's something else."

"She mentioned being a Doctor, in the Muggle world," Minerva pressed, clearly trying to dig up more information about Helen.

He opted to give a little. "Her father was a Wizard, and a magical creatures expert. Being a Squib hasn't stopped her from continuing his work. Her medical degrees are essentially so that she is in a position to treat magical creatures who come to her in need of care."

"That would explain what she and the Scamanders were doing together," the Scottish woman said with a nod of understanding. "I'd wondered what they had in common. I'm uncertain what Hermione's connection with the both of them is, as I wasn't aware she has any interest or knowledge in regard to magical creatures."

"You'd be hard pressed to find a subject Hermione doesn't have some interest in," Sirius said honestly. "That said, where Helen and Newt are concerned, it's more political maneuvering than anything else. Hermione and I had a friend back in the day who knew Helen and knew Newt, but knew they hadn't met one another. He wasn't in a position to make the introduction himself, so when opportunity presented, Hermione took the initiative and just made it happen. Helen and Newt made natural allies, and that Hermione was the one to introduce them will make both of them inclined to do her favors down the line."

"I hadn't realized Hermione was so involved with politics," Minerva admitted.

"She's not a trophy wife," Cedrella chastised. "Aunt Hermione is Uncle Sirius' equal, point blank. Often I think she's above the prat. Honestly, we all know who's really Head of the Blacks these days."

He didn't even try to deny it. "Truth. I'm not without use, but Hermione is the mastermind behind most of the political maneuvering House Black has done this last year. I'm not saying she's doing anything I don't wholly support, mind you, but it's like if you wanted a portrait done and you had the option of picking a five year old to do it or someone who had been trained specifically to draw portraits… who would you hire?"

"But she hasn't been trained to be a Pureblood Lord," Minerva objected. "She's Muggleborn, for Merlin's sake."

"That doesn't stop her from being a genius," Cedrella mused.

Minerva didn't seem to have a counterpoint to that.

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