Chapter Twenty Two

Melok was in his office working on research. Gods knew that was what most of his life entailed anymore. Either he was working on research for Gringotts or research for Hermione, although at the moment he had the rare free time to work on research of his own liking: Goblin genetics. The whole subject fascinated him, if he was perfectly honest. Fifteen hundred years ago the stature of his kind had been much smaller, and then they'd begun breeding with humans off and on, primarily in Germany where most of the clans were still residing at the time. Then, that blasted war had happened - the Great Culling of the half breeds - when Wizards and Witches of that era had taken offense to those of their brethren who'd found it in their hearts to make home and family with Goblins, and killed the offspring of those unions.

By then, half breeds had made up more than half of the Goblin population, and the war had taken the lives of just as many pure Goblins as it had half breeds. While in the aftermath of the culling, it was many generations before a Goblin would dare breed with a human again out of fear of the consequences, enough human blood had entered their gene pool to forever alter their stature, making them larger than they had been in previous generations. That said, even back then they'd figured out that spells were needed to preserve the smaller Goblin stature of the offspring produced by those unions if the mother hoped to survive, although on occasion a child was born, by accident, who had the larger physique.

According to Melok's research, there were twelve of those children who managed to use charms to appear fully human, and hide among their human brethren in the aftermath of the culling. They eventually married and had children of their own with other humans, disguising the Goblin features of their children until they were old enough to do it themselves, and in a few generations, the Goblin features simply stopped being visible. These twelve children would mother and father the lines that led to Witches and Wizards like Hermione, who continued to carry Goblin blood, even if it wasn't apparent to the naked eye. They were the end result of a war all but forgotten by their forebearers.

That Hermione's mother had been called Konig was of particular interest to Melok. Among the names he'd found, the twelve lines he could trace to have survived the culling and gone on to have children with their human fellows, the line of Konig the Great had not been on the list. It was possible that the name had been adopted in remembrance by someone from a lesser house, trying to honor the Goblin King by keeping his name alive among the humans who'd persecuted him, but Melok doubted that. First, a Goblin's family name, however situated it is on the social ladder, is precious to him or her. To trade it for another name would be a great oddity indeed. Second, Melok had dug into genealogical records for Jean Konig - Hermione's mother - and if he was reading the information correctly, Hermione should be barely making the cut of viably being able to tap into the magic her Goblin history afforded her. That she maintained such a strong connection to it regardless insinuated that the Goblin line from which she came was a particularly powerful one.

He wondered if his counterpart had known, when he took Hermione through the Hall of Kings in the Goblin Catacombs, that he was entering it with a Goblin Princess at his side. As it stood, Melok had elected not to mention to his Mage that her bloodline did, in fact, mark her as royalty in the Goblin nation. On one hand he realized she deserved to know, but on the other hand Melok knew her, and knew that she wouldn't see it as a gift, but rather as a burden, and in some ways it would be. As things stood he was technically breaking protocol by not informing his superiors of what he learned, because her status as a member of the Goblin royalty did lend to certain responsibilities, and Melok knew the Goblin Parliament would take full advantage of who and what she was, and Hermione being Hermione would yield to duty before taking care of her own interests. Therefore, what she didn't know, and they didn't know, couldn't hurt anyone. One day, perhaps, he'd tell her, but for now, she didn't need the additional stress.

"Melok?"

The Goblin looked up from his messy desk to see his wife standing in the doorway of his office. He then glanced at the clock and realized how late it had gotten. "Is Filius already in bed? I've missed his bedtime again, haven't I? I'm sorry."

Genia offered a sad smile, and moved the rest of the way into the room, taking a seat on the sofa. She didn't often come into his office for more than a moment to ask him a question. He honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd actually taken a seat in here. This was his space, and she respected that. "Come sit with me," she requested.

He sighed, not really in the mood for an argument about priorities. He already knew she thought he worked too much and needed to make more time for the baby. He was trying, dammit, but until Filius could walk and talk, he wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to do with the child. Putting down his quill and getting out of his desk chair and moving over to the sofa, he joined his wife. "Yes?" he asked, bracing himself for a lecture.

To his surprise, before she said anything else, she leaned over and kissed him deeply. He returned the gesture on instinct, taking in her taste and scent as his fingers wove through her dark hair. The kiss continued on for nearly a full minute before Genia pulled away, and his lust addled brain cleared all at once when he realized that his wife had tears streaming down her cheeks as she straightened back up. He'd opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but she beat him to the punch by answering the unspoken question. "I'm pregnant," she said softly.

His heart stopped.

"We weren't trying," he said after a moment of just staring at her.

Genia nodded. "I know."

"So we didn't cast the spells to…"

"Dammit Melok, I know," she snapped. "I know the odds. You don't have to rattle them off to me. I'm a bloody Ravenclaw, I did the research before we were even married."

He let out a ragged breath. "Genia, I don't know what to do. I don't even know what to say right now."

His wife shrugged. "Not much to do, or say. We're having a baby. That much is certain. I think I'm about eight weeks now, so in another six weeks, give or take, we should be able to go to Mungo's and do the test to find out if I'll be around to raise our children with you or not. In any case, regardless of what that test determines, there are a few things I think we should do before this child is born."

Melok forced a smile on his face, knowing Genia well enough to know she was trying to focus on the good of the moment, the idea of welcoming another child into their lives, and not be overwhelmed by the fact that there was a slim chance she'd survive the birth. Gods knew he wanted to break down right now, the idea of losing his wife crippling to consider, but he needed to be strong for her right now. She needed him to be strong. "Like what?" he asked.

"Well, even if this one is also a boy, eventually our children will want their own space even if they could viably share a room in the short term," she remarked. "I think we should move somewhere larger. Perhaps even a place with a yard the children could play in. I know it will be a pain to move all of your books, but maybe the new place will have an even larger office space for you."

He nodded, hearing the unspoken request. She wanted to be able to take part in picking the home her children would grow up in even if she wasn't there to see it happen, and knew they would outgrow this flat within a few years. Such a Ravenclaw thing to consider, but Melok didn't care if he had to empty his Gringotts vault to make it happen, what Genia wanted right now, Genia was going to get. "What else?" he inquired.

"Well the sensible thing will be to have Hermione be Godmother to this one as well," she said thoughtfully. "Especially if it looks as though I won't be around. I imagine she'll step in and help you out. Likely she'll be a mother to Filius and his sibling, if I can't."

Melok winced. "Genia, Hermione couldn't replace you. Nobody could. Please don't talk like that."

"It isn't about her, or anyone else, replacing me, my love," she said with a soft smile. "It's about meeting a need. You're a stubborn mule and it takes a rare individual for you to allow them to help you with a bloody thing. Hermione Black happens to be one of those rare individuals. I'd say Minerva is much the same and could also be counted on to keep you on your toes, but Hermione is already Filius' Godmother, and if I don't survive the birth, and then if something were to happen to you as well, it makes sense, logically, that both our children have the same Godparent so that custody arrangements are very simple."

He stood and moved over to his liquor bar and poured himself a drink, almost pouring her one as well before remembering she shouldn't have alcohol when pregnant. All at once, the reality of what was happening sunk in, and he dropped the bottle of Firewhisky back onto the bar with more force than necessary in his frustration and anger. "Just stop," he whispered. "Stop acting like you're already accepting that you're going to die. We don't know for sure yet… there's a chance, Genia."

"Less than one percent," she reminded him. "In all recorded history, there have been three hundred and sixty seven accidental pregnancies like this. Two of them have resulted in the child naturally forming the smaller stature, and in one of those cases there was suspicion the mother may have come from a Goblin line, which would have implied she never needed to cast the spells in the first place. If that's true, then the statistic is more like less than half a percent. Sorry, Melok, but I don't like those odds."

He sipped his drink. "What can I do?"

Genia sighed. "Hold me?"

Melok moved back over to the sofa and sat beside the brunette, and a moment later she had her head in his lap and he was running one hand through her hair and the other hand rested on her shoulder in an embrace. Nothing could change the reality of what they were facing, but here, now, he could give his wife this simple comfort.

He'd call into the bank tomorrow morning and let them know he was taking at least the next few days off. He and Genia needed some time right now, and to be perfectly honest he wasn't particularly inclined to leave her alone with Filius in the wake of everything going on. She was handling this with grace for the moment, but at some point she was going to break down and need to fall apart completely, and when that happened she wasn't going to be able to be a mother, regardless of what their son needed from her or when. Until he was certain she was actually past the shock of what was happening, Melok resolved not to leave her side. In fact, he'd send an Owl to Hermione as well, letting her know he wouldn't be available for the next little while. She'd respect his space, he knew, and best of all she wouldn't ask questions. Not unlike Genia, Hermione had a clear understanding of the Goblin tendency to play things close to the vest, and accepted what he would tell her, and chose not to resent what he didn't.

That said, one of the key differences between Genia and Hermione was that Genia expected him to be the strong one, and Hermione expected equality between them. He couldn't break down over this in front of his wife. She wanted, if not needed, him to remain steady in this storm for her. At some point, Melok knew, he was going to break. He was going to completely lose it, he was going to cry, scream, kick, and curse.

He just wasn't going to do it in front of Genia. The problem was that while he already knew who he wanted to support him when that happened, Melok also knew she was the last person on this earth who should be who he went to.

"Hog's Head, as soon as you can get away."

Hermione frowned at the note that Byron had just delivered from Melok. Last she'd heard from the Goblin had been two weeks prior, when he'd sent an equally cryptic missive saying that something had come up - non specific on the what - and that he needed to put off any lessons with her for at least the next week or so. She'd written back just to say that she understood and would wait to hear from him to schedule their next meeting. Hermione knew he had obligations outside of the time he spent training her, both with his family and with Gringotts, and she'd suspected he was working on some big project for the bank when he'd been vague on timeline. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd been put on assignment for certain periods of time like that.

Still, this latest note made her wonder if whatever he'd been up to had led to some new information regarding Voldemort's movements. There was something in his penmanship - it looked hurried - that gave her the impression of urgency. Hermione dropped by her husband's study to let him know she was stepping out to meet Melok and Aberforth, and then quickly Floo'd to the younger Dumbledore's place of business. A quick scan of the bar did not reveal the Goblin anywhere in sight, so she went up to the bar to inquire with Aberforth.

"He's upstairs," Aberforth informed her before she could even get the question out. "Room six."

Hermione frowned, glancing at the stairs and hesitating to move toward them, mind going back to the last time she and Melok had been in one of those upstairs rooms alone together. "Um…"

"I don't think shagging is on his mind, Hermione," the barkeep said softly. "He seemed quite upset. Wouldn't tell me what was wrong, but you know as well as I do that if I could see he was not well, then it is likely something serious."

Her heart lurched, knowing that if it was war related Melok would have hinted as much to Aberforth, as while the growing Resistance didn't necessarily share all intelligence to everyone, their core group did get all information that was gained by any of them. If it was about the war, whatever Melok meant to tell Hermione, Aberforth would be learning about, too, and Melok would have known that. This implied that whatever was wrong was personal. She gave Aberforth a curt nod and bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time and quickly making her way to room six and letting herself in.

The Goblin was standing by the window when she came in, turning around as she shut the door behind her. Aberforth had been right. Something was wrong. The look on Melok's face was grief, plain and simple, although Hermione knew that she was likely one of very few who knew him well enough to be able to identify the emotion in his expression at a glance.

"What's happened?" she asked softly.

"Genia's pregnant," he choked out, not even hesitating in his confession, as if he'd been using all his strength to hold it in this long.

Hermione didn't even have to ask if this had been planned, or if the proper spells had been cast. If they had, Melok wouldn't be this upset. He wouldn't be terrified that his wife was going to die. "Oh, gods," she uttered, the full gravity of the situation weighing on her, thinking back on her meeting with the Fates and their insinuation that Melok's line must continue. She'd worried this was how it would happen, and now she knew for sure. Hermione fell onto her knees. "Love, come to me. You need not be strong right now. Not here."

Quick strides brought the man she loved into her welcoming arms, all awkwardness between them gone in a desire to give simple comfort in this trying time, and at his whispered thanks, she merely held him tighter. They remained close like that for several hours, eventually migrating to the bed when their bodies decided they'd had enough of the hard floor. Aberforth was right to suggest he wasn't interested in shagging, although in the course of vulnerability, a few chaste kisses were exchanged, and in retrospect, Hermione wasn't sure who to blame for them, so she opted to just let it go. In all honesty, they'd hardly been sexual at all - merely intimate, and the reality of the matter was that there was no going back now.

She did have an intimate relationship with Melok. He was someone she was in love with, who was in love with her in turn. He was someone she'd gone to bed with, and so by definition her lover, regardless of if they ever went to bed together again. Melok had been right that night; they weren't friends. They couldn't be friends. They were lovers in the shadows, even if they never were intimate again. They had something special that lent to an emotional connection above and beyond what simple friendship ever could be. There were half a dozen people he should have gone to for comfort as he processed this, but he chose her, just as she would have chosen him if the roles were reversed.

"When will you know?" she asked as they cuddled on the bed.

"End of August," he said, voice raw from crying. "Gods, Hermione, what if she dies? How am I to raise two children on my own?"

She kissed his lips softly. "You act like I won't be there all the time to help out with my Godson one way or another, Melok. If we lose Genia, I'll just be by more, to help with my Godson and his sibling."

"She said something about making you Godmother of this one too," he admitted.

Hermione snorted. "Bloody Ravenclaw. She would."

"Oh, so that makes sense to you, does it?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

"It's logical, love," she shrugged. "She's considering the odds. When there are two living parents, the odds of children being orphaned in totality are minimal. When one parent has already passed, the odds of their children being orphaned go up a great deal. To make the children share a Godparent means custodial arrangements would be fairly straightforward if both parents aren't there to raise their children."

"That's nearly exactly what she said," Melok grumbled. "Are you sure you weren't a Ravenclaw?"

"Assuredly not," Hermione smiled. "One of my best friends was, however, and beyond being lethally intelligent, Luna was the sort who could set aside emotion and look at a situation at its simplest. That didn't mean she was without emotion herself, mind you. She had feelings a-plenty. Granted, she hardly had time to explore them. Far too busy looking after her father."

He raised an eyebrow. "Luna? I don't think you've mentioned her before. Alpha? Beta? Both?"

"Her father was murdered in Beta before she was ever born," came a sad reply. "In Alpha she was one of many child soldiers. Her father… Merlin, we never really did sort out why Xeno was so broken at the end of it all. He just seemed to give up. He'd always been a bit odd, but so was Luna, and then the war ended and Xeno just snapped. He went from being a bit strange to almost non functional nearly overnight. If I remember right, that happened during the trials. Luna had meant to attend them but she ended up not being able to because of what was happening with her father."

"One more life to save," he muttered. "Two more, actually. What about my wife, Hermione? You've mentioned Genia died in Beta, but you haven't said anything about her in Alpha. Does she survive the birth of our second child in any reality, or is this just fate?"

She sighed, not wanting to lie to her lover, but knowing the truth would hurt him deeply. So, she settled with a half truth. The Fates had all but told her that Genia having a second child, here, was a ripple in the timeline. "I'm not honestly sure how Genia died in Beta. Filius never mentioned a sibling, but that doesn't mean childbirth wasn't still the cause of her death. You know as well as I do that the offspring of these sorts of pregnancies don't always make it either."

"I know," he muttered. "Decent odds, though. About eighty percent."

"As for Alpha, I only ever knew Filius in the context of our Professor and student relationship, Melok," she admitted. "Truthfully, he never mentioned his parents to me except to say they were divorced, nor did he mention any siblings. I don't know if you or Genia were living in Alpha, or if he had a sibling there. So to answer your question, I simply don't have enough information to answer that. Maybe she was alive and well in Alpha, even if you're not together, never having had a second child. Maybe you two had a second child and then divorced after that but she's still fine. Maybe in either Alpha or Beta there never was a second pregnancy. I don't know. For all we know this pregnancy is less an issue of fate and more one of a ripple."

He glowered. "In other words, maybe we save the world from certain doom, but as a side effect I lose my wife."

She looked at him pleadingly, begging him to forgive her for a ripple that was causing him so much pain. "Melok…" she whispered.

The Goblin sighed, and leaned up to kiss her again, lips melding against hers and tongue gently sliding into her mouth in what had somehow become such a familiar dance to them. It was a kiss to reassure, and to reaffirm their love, and as it continued to build Hermione realized that if they didn't stop soon they'd end up crossing that line again. Fortunately, Melok seemed to be coming to the same realization, and he slowly backed off and disengaged. "Sorry," he muttered sheepishly. "It's difficult not to get lost in you."

"You weren't the only one getting carried away there," she reminded him.

His fingers brushed a few stray hairs away from her face and tucked them behind her ear. "In any case, Hermione, even if this is a ripple, and this child has only come into being because of your presence… Gods forgive me but I can't be sorry. I can't be sorry to have met you, I can't be sorry for taking part in building a future free of child soldiers. As much as I know it will kill me to lose Genia if it comes to that… at a certain point there is an issue of the greater good that must be considered."

She laughed. "The Fates are pretty keen on that concept."

He smiled. "Mage lore is fairly filled with it."

The pair remained cuddled in bed together for another hour before Melok insisted he really needed to get back to Genia. There was a silent understanding that while neither was regretful of the kisses shared that evening, it did not open doors to going back to a physical relationship with them. It had been an emotional night, and in some ways it was a promising show of their progress to see that they were able to have some intimacy without crossing the ultimate line. Perhaps the next time one of them had a deeply emotional moment and needed the other, they could get through it just holding one another, and forgo even the kisses. It was a work in progress, in any case, she mused. One way or another, Hermione knew she could not regret giving Melok comfort tonight. He tried so hard to be strong around Genia, to be man enough for her despite being a Goblin. Personally, Hermione thought that was silly; he was a Goblin, not a man, so why was he trying to prove he was something he was not? She loved him for who he was, not who anyone, himself included, supposed he should be.

Occlumency shields slammed into place, knowing full well how raw emotionally she was right now, as she Floo'd back to Grimmauld Place. She wasn't surprised, given the hour at this point, that Sirius was waiting for her in the den. "So?" he asked. "What's the verdict? Did Melok find something out about Voldemort's movements?"

Hermione let out a sigh. She'd all but forgotten that had been her initial suspicion when she'd left several hours prior. "No," she replied, taking a seat across from her husband. "It wasn't about Voldemort at all. Genia's pregnant."

"Oh," he said, frowning a bit. "So what, you guys were celebrating?"

She scoffed. "Hardly, Sirius. They weren't trying. Remember, I told you I was concerned about this after my Awakening. She's pregnant, they weren't trying, and now there is every chance she's going to die in childbirth. He's terrified."

"Merlin," the Head of the Blacks said, leaning back in his seat. "That sucks. What are the odds?"

"That she lives?" Hermione breathed. "Less than one percent. In other words, not good at all. The child living is about eighty percent, so much better, but there's still a chance Melok could lose both his wife and child. That said, if the Fates do have their sticky hands on this bloody mess, I'd bet good Galleons on the child surviving. I'm not sure they care much about Genia surviving, though. From their point of view, she's just a vessel to facilitate the continuation of Melok's line. Nothing more."

Her husband looked thoughtful. "Not to be an arse, hun, and I get why he'd tell you what was going on, but you were gone for hours. What the hell took so long?"

"Sirius, Melok is a wreck right now!" she exclaimed. "He found out two weeks ago his wife is probably going to die, and this is the first he's reached out to anyone for support of any kind. What took so long? I was being his bloody friend and giving him some time to fall apart without judgment. Merlin!"

"It's just weird, hun," Sirius admitted. "I wouldn't think Melok would reach out to you of all people if he was having an emotional breakdown. Doesn't he have guy friends for that? Maybe Aberforth?"

Hermione laughed. "Does Aberforth strike you as the sort to talk to about feelings? Besides, don't forget what I told you about having Goblin genes, love. We're kin, in a way, and that I'm human makes it easier for me to understand how he feels about Genia than any of his Goblin friends would, who likely think it's good riddance if she died. We've gotten to be close friends for a lot of reasons, Sirius. Melok and I have a great deal in common, and understand each other."

"Still, four hours?"

"If I was dying, how would you be faring?" she asked pointedly.

He nodded in understanding. "Okay, okay, I get it. I've just never had a close friend like that, who wasn't a relative, who was of the opposite sex. I'm not accusing or anything, but it's strange to me to see a man and a woman being all emotional around each other who aren't shagging. It's just out of the realm of experience for me."

"We weren't shagging," she said truthfully. Hermione kept her Occlumency shields firmly in place. That they had shagged in the past and that they had snogged that evening was entirely beside the point.

"I didn't say you bloody were!" he snapped. "I just… Merlin Hermione, I do trust you, but this isn't two thousand and five anymore. In this era, if a man and a woman are unattended together in a private place for hours at a time, especially with emotions charged and with a history of emotional closeness, it begs people to speculate about the nature of their relationship. I know Aberforth isn't going to make those sorts of assumptions because he knows you guys and knows your situation with the Mage training, but you're the wife of a Pureblood Lord and at some point I am begging you to start considering how you're making me look with as often as you and Melok meet privately, for hours at a time, with plenty of random idiots around to make note of it!"

She frowned. "Who said something?" came the obvious question.

Sirius grumbled under his breath about her knowing him too well. "Octavian Prince," he admitted after a minute. "Last Wizengamot meeting."

"Severus' grandfather?" she asked for clarification.

He nodded. "I'm starting to get a clear understanding where Severus got his tendency to be a complete prat from. He got that 'I know better than anyone' vibe directly from his grandfather. Bloody hell."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, I cannot promise to stop meeting privately with Melok. It's just not feasible with my training. I can, however, attempt to be more discreet about it. I'm sorry it's been causing you trouble."

Sirius shrugged. "Octavian is a prat. I'm sorry about Genia."

"It's late," she pointed out. "Let's get up to bed."

He nodded and the pair moved up the stairs, Hermione heading directly to the shower to get Melok's scent off of her before joining her Animagus husband in their bed. Had she and Melok shagged tonight? No. They had snogged though, and beyond that, she realized, the fact that she had been his first call in the aftermath of learning his wife might be dying was a testament of the emotional infidelity they were both willingly involved in. She could spend the rest of her life never going to bed with Melok again, but that didn't change the fact that she was having an affair with him all the same.

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