Everything is possible with magic, isn't it?

by Minerva394

A reflected spell out of an old journal in the library at Grimmauld Place forms an unusual bond between Hermione Granger and Hermione Dolohov.

Everything's possible with magic, isn't it?

Note: After trying for some time to write a serious Antomione for HwaetWeGardena this very strange plot-bunny bit me. I am not quite sure where the border between fantasy and a crack-fic lies but this story may well be beyond it …

June 26th 1996, Department of Mysteries

Antonin Dolohov was pissed, mightily so. As if fourteen years of Azkaban for a murder he didn't commit were not enough, now he was at the beck and call of a madman who sent his minions off to fight children. Children! Children were to be cherished, to be loved.

During his sixth year at Hogwarts Tom Riddle's ideas for a stricter segregation between wizards and Muggles had been a worthwhile goal. Antonin, being a half-blood, knew more than his pureblooded peers about the advancement of Muggle technology. He had joined Riddle's Knights of Walpurgis wholeheartedly. But soon, during his second year as an appretice with a wardsmith at Gringotts, their leader had changed. He had veered off the political path, had become paranoid and wanted to be called Lord Voldemort. The conflict between Dumbledore's followers and the Knights, now dubbed Death Eaters, had escalated. Most of the time Antonin was safely ensconed with his master at some Gringotts mine but that fateful day fourteen years ago he had been for a pint with Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. The fromer wanted to escape his wife and the latter liked to pick the Russian's brain for some combination of runes and wards he worked on as his mastery project in Ancient Runes.

When Moody, Black, Potter and the Prewett twins had ambushed them it was fight or die. He had not cast any Unforgivables but may have hit one of the twins fatally. A conviction of involuntary manslaughter he would have accepted, but then there had been no trial. And while the defenses of his mind were formidable, after fourteen years of exposure to Dementors his memories of that time were rather hazy and would not help him now. Such was it that the selfstyled Lord Voldemort was his only option at the moment. Absconding to his native Russia was not an option due to the far-reach of the Dark Mark. But if it were a possibility Antonin would leave all his troubles at Britain behind and go home. At the age of 34 the Russian was of a mind to finally follow his mother's dearest wish and give her some grandchildren.

Lazily he waved a Confundus at MacNair as the zealot came too close to a whispy blonde teenager. He tried to cast as little as he could get away with. An older girl with wild hair rivalling Bellatrix' effortlessly hexed Lucius while shielding the hapless Longbottom boy a moment later. If he ever found the mother of his future children he wished for a witch like that one. Ah, he had been too lost in his thoughts, she was casting at him. Waving her spell away he sent a tickling hex at her he had modified to look like something much more sinister and quite like his signature fire-whip. To his surprise something about her hindered his spell to hit her and it rebounded. Antonin felt a slight stab in his lower belly but nothing more. Feeling the atmosphere changing at the arrival of the Order he retreated to the department's Apparition chamber and turned on his heel, hoping fervently that none of the teenagers got hurt.

July 30th 1996, Hampstead, London

For once Hermione Granger's parents had veto'ed her going to the Burrow after being home for a scant two weeks. They had argued that they could understand her staying at Hogwarts over the Easter holidays because of her studies but during the summer they did not want to lose even more time with a daughter who grew more and more estranged from them.

Mrs Granger set down the rule of family dinners but during the day Hermione was free to visit with her friends via the Floo, set up in a warded guest room of the house, or via the Knight Bus. Today she had travelled with the former to Longbottom Manor for Neville's birthday party. The invitation had arrived on fine parchment, stating formal attire. Not sure whether Ronald had gotten an invitation Hermione could not ask Mrs Weasley. Nymphadora Tonks had pointed her towards her mother. Mrs Tonks, instead of simply writing back, had invited the young witch over for tea. There the girl had learned more about wizarding society and politics than during the last five years in Hogwarts. Andromeda Tonks, née Black, had recommended sensible shoes – a garden party at Longbottom Manor inevitably ended up in one of their greenhouses – and otherwise attire suitable for the Queen's garden party, combined with a ligthweight open summer robe, no hat for a sixteen year old (but a fascinator might be permissible) and only minimal jewellery. And she earnestly entreated Hermione to put her hair up in a tight chignon. Leaving it open was a big no-go in the upper echolons of wizarding society. The present the young witch had already selected took Mrs Tonks' fancy, carefully selected organic seeds of old species of herbs, fruits and vegetables complete with a handwritten manual for their cultivation.

Neville, standing next to his grandmother to greet the guests, looked different than at Hogwarts, taller somehow. He really had grown into his looks. The young man bowed over his fellow Gryffindor's hand before turning to greet the next arrivals. Hermione wandered towards a terrace she spotted some people her age after depositing her gift on a table placed for this purpose. Daphne Greengrass came over and introduced her younger sister Astoria. Theo Nott fetched her a limonade and Justin Finch-Fletchley offered her a seat at a table on the terrasse. After that afternoon at Mrs Tonks Hermione was no longer surprised at the mix of people and also not of their kind welcome after she'd offered the traditional greetings.

When the young people were called to a dance Mrs Longbottom stopped Hermione before joining, "Miss Granger, what do you know about the quarter days and how their magic affects us?" Seeing her uncomprehending look the matriarch sighed, "I see Dumbledore is up to his old games, keeping the Muggleborns ignorant. My grandson tells me you are a bright and virtous young woman but take care, these dances connect with our witches magic in a way that is quite overwhelming. Unscrupulous young man have been known to take advantage of the euphoria the steps induce."

Hermione closed her mouth and offered her thanks before joining the circle of dancers. Afterwards she stayed close to Daphe and Astoria, both as rosycheeked as she herself, and together they watched the more or less accomplished flirting of the others.

Back at home the young witch wrote a list of things to research and then meditated before falling asleep, concentrating on her new awareness of her body.

Same day, Yaxley Manor, Loch Coruisk, Isle of Skye, Scotland

Flora MacDonald Yaxley was a formidable woman, much like her ancestor and namesake. She was also a powerful witch and a natural healer. Politics had been relegated to the back for the last twelve years due to her children, but she was well connected and well respected. Flora had few weeknesses, only two rather: her husband Corban Yaxley and her children, three girls between eleven and seven and the twin boys Hamish and Alasdair aged five. The eldest, Aoife, was to attend Hogwarts come September, Caitlin and Moria would follow in two respectively four years.

Being Scottish and proud Flora did not like the mark of servitude on her husband's left arm. Corban had gotten it during their engagement, meaning to impress his intended. Who had been appalled. Flora practised the Old Ways and worshipped magic but never adhered to any kind of blood purity. While her family had always preferred Scottish suitors they were open enough to anyone else if those marrying into the clan submitted to the clan elders' authority. Corban had come from an old but unimportant family with little money and land, had distinguished himself at the ministry and, most important, he had captured Flora's heart. She was not blind to his faults but she loved him with all her heart. After the Dark Lord had been vanquished everything had been all right, Corban never being indicated as a Death Eater, but since Voldemort's resurrection Flora had researched for ways to get rid of the Dark Mark. So far she hit only dead ends and suspected that it could only be erased by a Parselmouth.

With her husband being a member came his comrades who were also friends. Privately she thought the Lestrange brothers both being a few cups shy of a tea-service, Rodolphus lost in a world of his own, full of poetry and ancient scrolls, anything really making him forget the woman he was wedded to, and Rabastan with his head in the clouds. Those at least had manners, something which could not be said of Thorfinn Rowle. The lad tried but had no idea of his own strenght. Since the loss of three of her antique crystal goblets she had ordered her elves to only serve him drinks in tankards. Corban likened him to an overgrown puppy and Flora knew that he reminded him of one of his cousins who had died in a flying accident as a youth. Her husband and Antonin Dolohov had tried to shield Rowle from the more gruesome aspects of being a Death Eater after the youth had been marked against his will.

Most vexing right now was Dolohov. Corban had dragged the man home to their manor because he was worried about him. Apparently since the skirmish at the Department of Mysteries the Russian behaved rather oddly, with violent mood swings and even bouts of crying. Rodolphus' detection spells had not shown anything malevolent but something or other was bound to have caught Dolohov in a way that Corban worried for his safety, should Voldemort notice his behaviour. After stretching her magic towards her children to make sure they were safely occupied Flora made her way towards the tower where her husband had put the Russian in a guest-room.

"Hello Antonin, what seems to be the problem?"

Dolohov sprang to his feet and greeted her with a bow.

"Flora, I am very grateful that you agreed to put me up here. I hope I won't be a bother for long after you find out what afflicts me so."

"It started after the Department of Mysteries?"

"Yes. At first there was nothing wrong. There I got hit with a spell that felt like a little prick in my lower belly but when Severus checked us over afterwards there was nothing there. About a week later I started to tire easily, after another week I often felt nauseas without any apparent reason. And there is something –" There he stopped and looked at Corban, "Look mate, could you step outside for a minute?"

"Tony, I've held your hair back when you were puking your guts out after your first girlfriend dumped you, there's not a lot that would shock me. I will leave if you insist but in this case I think the more minds are put to it the better."

"You're right, Yax. Flora, during the last weeks my breasts have swelled and my nipples are ridiculously tender. I am borrowing Roddy's silk shirts as anything else drives me to distraction. And that crying at the drop of a hat! Just this morning I watched your little Hamish when he sung to a ladybug and started sniffling again!"

Corban's eyebrows rose and Flora was thoroughly puzzled.

"All right. Can you tell me exactly what you were doing at the Department of Mysteries and in which room you've been? Try to leave nothing out, no sounds, no curses, nothing."

Dolohov's account was fairly straight forward until the prophecy chamber.

"Antonin, you said you were distracted. What were your thoughts then?"

"I was wishing I were back in Russia, settled down with a witch and give my mother some grandchildren."

"And then your tickling hex on the curlyhaired witch rebounded?"

"Yes, but I felt no tickling, just a little `ping´."

"Mhm. I think I need to see your memories. Corban, please fetch our pensieve while I cast some general diagnostics."

"Aye. But Snape already did that."

"There's a reason you brought Antonin to me, I know things Snape wouldn't think of."

When Corban had left the room Dolohov addressed her, "Flora, please promise me that you will send me away if it is something dangerous. Under no circumstances would I want to endanger your family."

The witch waved her wand, chanting in Gaelic, before laying her flat hands on different chakras, closing her eyes.

"I would do that anyway, but at the moment there's no indication of anything contagious or otherwise that could be a danger to others. Lay back and close your eyes for a moment."

The Russian did and Flora waved her wand over his lower belly. The result, a leavy green pulsing point, surprised her. This needed further research before sharing it with the men. When Corban returned Antonin deposited his memories and all three entered the pensieve. After watching them as a whole Flora made them watch again, stopping here and there and asking the patient to explain his thoughts at various moments. The short flare from the rebound spell reminded her of something. Withdrawing she presented her results.

"Right, the good news is that I found no dark magic – safe the mark – on Antonin, no compulsions from spells or potions. Your overall physical status it slightly below that of a man your age but better than one would expect after fourteen years of Azkaban. Your circulation is working more than warranted, with a slightly raised heart-rate. That would explain your fatigue. As of now I do not know why that is so. Your mind is sound and again with less memory loss than expected after the Dementors, yet you have no Occlumency shields up at all. Can you explain?"

"I worked out in Azkaban and I Occluded nearly constantly when not in my Animagus form. Dementors cannot feel animals, that's why I was not as much affected as other prisoners. Since the break-out I have lowered my shields when not in the Dark Lord's company, now I can only raise them with difficulty."

"Hence the emotions. I need to look something up in a family grimoire. That rebound spell reminded me of something Corban's great-aunt Lysandra invented. She married a Black. What puzzles me is how that witch would know about the spell."

Corban offered, "I will try and ask Severus about the children involved in the fight. Maybe he could shed some light on this."

Dolohov interfered, "Be careful. Sev is sitting on the fence at best if he is not wholly in Dumbledore's camp."

"Mate, what do you take me for? Must I remind you that I am playing these games for far longer than you? Let's meet again after the boys have gone to bed."

Flora closed the Yaxley family grimoire with a thud. Lysandra had invented a shield spell that cast the caster's intention back at him or her and not the actual spell. It was meant to be a last resort in times when the witch feared rape or murder.

In Antonin's case it explained the inexplainable leavy green diagnostic result. As he had been thinking of the mother of his future children being just as fine a witch as the curlyhaired one when casting that tickling hex what was rebounded was not a tickle but an impregnation. Magic it seemed did not care if it was hypothetical or wishful thinking – Miss Granger, that was the name of the witch who had used Lysandra's shield spell, had impregnated Antonin Dolohov.

According to Severus Snape the girl had visited Harry Potter over two summers in an unplottable location that belonged to the Black family, with unrestricted access to its library. Flora knew that there had been trials with male pregnancies, some of them successful, but never had she experienced one close by. Sending Antonin to St. Mungo's was out of the question, sending him back to Voldemort, too. She did not relish the thought of telling the Russian of his condition.

July 31st 1996, Hampstead, London

Mrs Granger did not need a lot of persuasion for Hermione to invite Harry Potter for a week. The headmaster had forbidden him to go to the Burrow but not to the Grangers. In all honesty no one had asked Dumbledore either. Today mother and daughter would drive over to Surrey to fetch the young wizard. While still in awe of authorities Hermione had started to question her own complete obedience of the headmaster's orders. Why would he forbid them to contact Harry? A boy who had lost his godfather only weeks before? A boy who had been shipped of to uncaring relatives without any psychological help? Dumbledore's questionable running of Harry's life in combination with her newfound awareness of the more traditional side of the wizarding world thanks to Mrs Tonks made for some uncomfortable inspection of her previous conduct. Hermione knew that some aspects of wizarding Britain were rather backwards but others not so much. And why were Muggleborns kept in ignorance by a school whose headmaster preached solidarity? A lot of misunderstandings could be avoided if there were such a subject like wizarding studies. Which had been taught at Hogwarts, at least until Dumbledore had become headmaster.

Mother and daughter Granger shared a cup of tea in the morning, waiting for the worst morning traffic to pass before setting out for Surrey. Hermione had used the telephone to confirm with Harry that he would be ready at lunchtime. Helen Granger watched her daughter.

"Hermione, you have grown up this last year, you're a young woman now. Do you want to go shopping sometimes? I like your new hairstyle, it suits you, but I think you need a more grown-up wardrobe to match it."

"I'd like that, mum. Yesterday I made an appointment for robe shopping with Daphne, I think she would like to accompagny us to Muggle London. Let's see how Harry is and plan then. I did a spell at Hogwarts to determine my true age because I used a time-turner during my third year. I have added four months to my age, I am now already seventeen. Which means I can use my wand without the ministry noticing it."

"I still think it highly irresponsible of your headmaster to let you use that device! You were always a levelheaded child but there should have been other ways to let you chose your electives, like self-study. I fear that he would not let you have that time-turner were you not that close to Harry whom he's grooming to be his perfect and obedient child-soldier."

"Mum!"

"Hermione, please open your eyes! Yes, we raised you to respect your teachers, but that does not mean not thinking for yourself. I am well aware that you do not tell us half of what goes on at Hogwarts. There are at least three teachers that have no qualifications whatsoever. You were down for Wycombe Abbey, for heaven's sake! Just imagine a biology tutor there that hasn't even passed his O-levels. It is unthinkable, isn't it?"

Hermione had to agree, even more so as her mother's concerns mirrored her own.

"Yes, it is. And I have studied independently in subjects where I felt the theoretical background lacking. But Hogwarts is the best magical school in England."

"That may be but it is steadily dropping since the current headmaster took over. Your father and I feel that is because Dumbledore is dancing on far too many weddings – chairman of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the IWC, headmaster etc."

"How do you know that much about him?"

"We go into Diagon Alley for books, we read the IWC reports, we talk to other Muggleborn's parents, the Finch-Fletchleys for instance. Justin is working on his A-levels as well, he wants to go to Oxford after graduation. Jonathan, his father, did a survey on influential people in the wizarding world, a survey by blood status as well as Hogwarts house affiliation. A Muggleborn Hufflepuff like Justin could have twelve NEWTs with straight Os and still would not get beyond middle level at the ministry at best. Most department heads are Slytherin-"

"Of course, Mum, that's just the pureblood old boys network!"

"Do not interrupt me, young lady! They may be Slytherins but nearly half of them are female, forty percent are Muggleborn and another third are half-bloods. Same with the head-healers at St. Mungo's. Successful businesspeople tend to be Hufflepuffs."

"There are no Muggleborns in Slytherin!"

"Are you sure? Did you get to know them? I meet with Ms Davis regularly and with Mrs Perks and we went golfing with the Padgetts last weekend."

Hermione shook her head in denial. Another whole area of her life onto which her view had been severly biased. Her brain had wanted to tell her things for a while now but things at school had always been so stressful, she never had time to think things though. In retrospect that may have been deliberate. Combined with the fact that her social skills still were quite lacking, that she had no friends outside their tightknit cercle, there was a real possibility that she had missed a lot of clues and important information about the world she was committed to.

"Come on, Hermione, you can think on all this on the drive to Little Whinging."

August 1st 1996, Lughnasadh, Yaxley Manor, Loch Coruisk, Isle of Skye, Scotland

The children were already outside running around waving their corn dolls when a whitefaced Antonin Dolohov ambled into the dining room. He looked at Flora, "It was no weird dream, was it?"

"No love, you are indeed expecting. How was the nausea this morning?"

"I had some water and dry biscuits before getting up. Is there coffee? Am I still allowed to have coffee?"

"Our stuff here is rather week and you put in a lot of milk, I guess that is all right. Listen to your body, it will tell you what it needs."

"Flora, what am I going to do? What will I tell my mother? What about the next time the Dark Lord curses me, will it affect my baby?"

"One thing after the other. I will go to London for some books on your condition, Corrie meanwhile is laying the ground for the Dark Lord not to call you, he already hinted at some mysterious, probably contagious ailment of yours. Try not to worry, get some fresh air, we will take one step after the other."

With that she took her leave. Despite her admonishments to the Russian Flora worried plenty. But she followed her own words – one thing after the other. `Flourish & Blotts´ thankfully had the books she needed. On a whim she went out to Muggle London and looked for a telephone booth. There she searched for dentists with the name of Granger. There was one entry in Hampstead, and a Granger residential address only a few streets away. Flora decided to do some reconnaisance work, in case Antonin wanted to contact the mother of his child. Or was Miss Granger the father in cases like these?

Going back to the Leaky Cauldron she took the Floo to the Spaniard's Inn in Hampstead and from there a cab. The Grangers lived in a quiet street with beautiful old houses. As the witch neared the address she stretched her magic and was astonished that there were no wards, no alerts even, anywhere. Miss Granger was publicly known as Harry Potter's best friend, why hadn't Dumbledore or her wizarding friends never bothered to guard the girl and her family? Originally Flora had only wanted to ascertain having the right Miss Granger but now she felt she had to warn the young witch. She rang the bell. Someone in the house shouted `Coming!´ and moments later a blackhaired teen in overlarge clothes opened the door without as much as asking after the visitor. Flora's eyes widened when she recognised Harry Potter.

"Mr Potter!"

"Yes? Do I know you, ma'am?"

"My name is Flora MacDonald Yaxley, is Miss Granger home?"

A young woman appeared. At least she had her wand out.

"Miss Granger? I come in peace but I commend you being cautious. Mr Potter, at least ask before you open the door!"

"Hermione, this is Mrs Yaxley. She has come for you. Mrs Yaxley, look at Crookshanks. If you were an enemy he would have told us."

A huge, squatfaced cat was sitting on the stairs next to the door, calmly licking a paw.

"Well, better than nothing. Miss Granger, might we sit down somewhere?"

The girl sent Potter to the kitchen for lemonade and offered Flora a seat on a settee in the living room.

"Are there any Muggles around outside the `Statute´? I would like to send a message to my family that I will be late."

"No, my parents know about magic."

"Would you call them? What I have to say concerns them, too."

"They will be home in half an hour."

Flora cast her seagull-Patronus and gave him a message, "Tony, I will be home after lunch, please make sure the children eat something, and not only sugar!"

That was hardly necessary, the nanny elf would do so anyway, but the content of the message relaxed the two teens.

"Mrs Yaxley, I seem to remember a Yaxley with the Magical Law department."

"That is my husband, but his work has nothing to do with why I am here. Miss Granger, one of his ancestors, Lysandra Yaxley, invented a shield spell. She married a Black. I think you have been using her spell without knowing all the consequences. Today I wanted to find your address, I had no intention of calling on you yet. But looking for your parent's house I noticed that it is neither protected by any wards nor are there any alerts. You are known as a close friend to Mr Potter, you are Muggleborn, you are at risk! Even Tom Riddle knows how to read a telephone directory."

At the teeangers´ puzzled looks she explained, "Tom Marvolo Riddle, the name the Dark Lord was born with?"

"You are calling him the Dark Lord. Only Death Eaters call him that," Potter bellowed, jumping up and brandishing his wand.

"Mr Potter, kindly sit down again. The other name carried a taboo during the last war and likely still does. The Dark Lord used it to find his enemies. Tom Riddle is a dark lord and it is prudent to call him thus. You-know-who is just ridiculous."

"Harry, please do as Mrs Yaxley says."

"But Dumbledore always calls him V-"

Granger clapped her hand over her friend's mouth.

"At Hogwarts, the most secure place in Britain. I do not want to find out whether the taboo still works while being a sitting duck here. And I have come to question a lot of Dumbledore's actions recently."

Flora's mind worked overdrive. Antonin was one of the best wardsmiths in Britain. If the Grangers knew about him in a benevolent capacity it might be easier to tell the young witch about her impending motherhood.

"Miss Granger, I realise that you have no reason to believe anything I say. Would you agree to a truthspell?"

"Of course."

They did as proposed and the Scottish witch told Hermione about a client that had been caught in the backlash of the shieldspell. At this point of the narrative the young woman's eyes narrowed.

"I only wore the spell at the ministry and in Diagon Alley. Your client must have tried to hex me there."

"I can only tell you more if you agree to a vow of secrecy, both of you, and I have to ask first whether I am allowed to tell you more. More pressing is the fact that you have no warding whatsoever around this house. One of the Weasleys is a curse-breaker, he could help you."

"Bill is in Egypt right now, he won't be back before Christmas. I will enquire with Gringotts, maybe someone else could do wards."

"A sensible solution. Would it be allright if I came back tomorrow?"

"Yes, please do."

Flora took her leave. After she had gone Hermione dashed upstairs for her pureblood-directory to look up the Yaxleys and the MacDonalds while Harry finished preparations for lunch.

Back at home on Skye a five year old ball of energy came running towards his mother.

"Mum, Mum, we found bilberries and made cakes for tonight with Uncle Tony!" Alasdair was shouting. His elder brother – by seven minutes – Hamish was following at a more sedate pace. Who had done the most work on the cakes was obvious, Hamish looked like a cute little demon with his blue lips and fingers. Making her way into the kitchen she saw Antonin putting a tray of bilberry tartletts for the Lughnasadh celebration in the evening into the cooler. He was wearing loose linen slacks and a peach coloured silk shirt. With blue stains.

"Antonin, Rod will duel you for ruining one of his favourite shirts."

"It's just some stains, they will come out."

The kitchen elf was shaking her head, "No, Master Tony, bilberry stains do not come out."

"Not even with magic?"

"No, not even with elven magic."

"Mhm. I will have to design a small ward around each stain that contains a permanent glamour, Rod will never know about this."

"Speaking of wards – is your magic stable still? Usually it gets a bit wonky during the second trimester."

"Everything is fine, I tested it in the copse behind that hill before the boys found me. It is only my Occlumency that is affected."

"I need you to do some free-lance work for an unprotected Muggleborn."

Antonin's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Miss Granger by chance? She is a close friend of Potter, surely the flaming chickens did something to protect her!"

"No, they didn't. It might be good if she gets you to know in a professional capacity before -, if you want to tell her, that is."

It was quite uncharacteristic for Flora to wear her heart on her sleeve.

"Right. I was thinking about how and when to tell Miss Granger about the baby. It would not be right to keep him or her from the mother, but she is terribly young on the other hand."

"If it helps she seems quite mature to me."

In the morning, the children were still sleeping after the celebration the night before, Flora used the landline installed at the manor to call the Doctors Granger. They were interested in wards but understandably insisted on vows of parley and secrecy, which was right up Flora's alley. She Apparated Antonin into a nearby copse and together they walked to the Granger's house. Hermione made the introductions and Flora was about to ask the family and Mr Potter to form a cercle for the vows when the boy jumped towards Dolohov, pressing his wand into the Russians neck.

"Hermione, they're Death Eaters! You remember the wanted posters from the DA?"

Mr Granger meanwhile had drawn a vicious looking revolver which would cause some damage at this close a range. Flora had to act.

"I, Flora Hestia MacDonald Yaxley, vow not to do anything to endanger the Granger family and Mr Potter. I further vow that I am acting solely for the safety of the Grangers and Mr Potter." A dome of golden light appeared.

"Are you satisfied, Mr Potter? Might we proceed with the other vows? I would think you of all people might understand that things often are not as they seem."

At the uncomprehending mien of the teen she continued, "Sirius Black was in Azkaban for twelve long years for a crime he did not commit. My friend here joined the Knights of Walpurgis when they were a political movement and he too got thrown into jail without a trial."

Antonin cleared his throat, "Mr Potter, you have my condolences on the death of your godfather. The Prewett twins along with three other wizards attacked me and two friends while we were sitting in the garden of a pub. I might have hit one of them or even both but that should have been self-defense or involuntary manslaughter at best. Alas, I did not have a trial because everyone with a Dark Mark was considered guilty. Many wanted out when Riddle changed his tactics from politics to civil war. Not that Moody or Dumbledore cared. I never went on any raids, I was working on wards for a stricter segregation between the Muggle and the wizarding world, something I still think is necessary."

Harry withdrew his wand a few centimetres when Hermione butted in, "Why? What is your problem?"

Mrs Granger sounded angry at her daughter when she answered in Antonin's place, "Hermione, think! I have nightmares that one day we will have irrefutable proof of the wizarding world from a satellite or on a CCTV and then wizards and witches will be rounded up to be used as guinea pigs by pharmaceutical companies, the military or the secret service!"

While the girl was about to protest Potter was nodding, "That was one threat Uncle Vernon used, that he would sell me to the highest bidder to brew potions against cancer. He was quite disappointed when he saw my potions grade."

"There are no potions or spells against cancer, many halfbloods have already tried. But we are disgressing, vows please!" This time everyone followed Flora's command. Shortly after the Grangers left for work. Flora too wanted to say her goodbyes when Hermione enquired after her patient.

"Miss Granger, first things first. It is not urgent, but please do not use the spell again in the meantime. Antonin can show you other possibilities for protection."

The girl agreed grudgingly but soon forget her anger while watching Antonin prepare to set the wards. When her constant questions became too bothersome for his concentration he turned towards her, "Miss Granger, if I tell you roughly what I am doing would it be possible for you to write your questions down from a distance? This is really advanced magic, it is strenuous and needs my full concentration without interruptions if it shall work as intended!"

The girl blushed while the Potter boy sniggered from a safe distance.

"Of course, Mr Dolohov, sorry. I got carried away."

"Right. I will set some perimeter alerts. Then I will ward the house and the garden against magical people with ill intent. This will mean that even a Squib salesman who wants to sell you something overpriced cannot find the house. Or a wizarding suitor who wants to take you out with less than honourable intentions. If your parents wish it we could construct a sealed room within the house, but those are highly impractical when only Muggles use the house for most of the year. I would rather issue Portkeys to your parents. Or, if you agree, raise some blood wards."

"Aren't those illegal?"

"Yes. And yet Dumbledore used them to protect Mr Potter's home. They are illegal since about fifteen years ago, when Dumbledore got the law through the Wizengamot. One can do horrible things with blood magic, but it is also used for the most potent healing potions or family wards. Blood wards are impenetrable."

"We will talk about this with my parents."

Antonin proceeded with his warding, Hermione took notes and Harry yet again took care of lunch. Shortly after eleven in the morning the Russian asked the two teens to accompagny him for a walk. They set the alert in a twohundred yard radius around the Granger home with Dolohov anchoring it now and then together with Hermione. Then they used an old walkie-talkie to test it, with Harry crossing the alert at various places and Hermione hearing the quiet `ping´ sound in every room of the house. Antonin explained that the wards considered Potter a member of the household, too. When the elder Grangers came home for lunch they invited him to stay and eat with them. Over the explanation of the emergency Portkeys and a discussion on whether to use blood wards he relaxed to an extent. Potter really was a good cook although for some reason he struggled with accepting compliments for his work. Mr and Mrs Granger left again after half an hour, Hermione was doing the dishes, with magic. Antonin wanted to leave but the wizard held him back.

"Mr Dolohov, with your experience with warding and cursebreaking, may I ask you a question?

"Of course, but not right this moment. Sometimes they send someone from the ministry due to underage magic, not ideal in my situation."

"Oh that, Hermione will be 18 in November, her trace broke a while ago because she used a timeturner excessively in her third year."

"Okay. Then ask away."

"Might a Parselmouth be helpful in the removal of the Dark Mark?"

"It is probably the only way to remove it. A friend and I have studied it extensively, we know how to remove it if not for the last command."

Antonin's heart beat faster, a solution to his situation at his fingertips.

"Do you want to try now? Would he know that we are working on it?"

"We can't remove my mark without some preparations. The Dark Lord already knows that I am ill, we told him that it is contagious. And no, he does not feel every mark he's ever created, that would drive him even more insane. What would be your price for the removal?"

"The knowledge of your support in vanquishing him is enough. What kind of illness?"

"That's personal, Mr Potter, but in no way dangerous for you or the Grangers."

"I gathered that, but won't it worsen if you use a lot of magic designing the wards?"

"No, I would have found a colleague then. Do the Grangers have an answerphone?"

"Yes, they do, but Hermione invented something that may be more practical."

After a minute the young man came back with a galleon and explained its use. Contrary to the DA coins it worked between Harry, Hermione and Dolohov only.

Back at home Antonin talked to Flora and firecalled Yaxley at the ministry. His friend would stop by at Malfoy Manor after work and tell the Dark Lord about a fatally ill Dolohov. As deathbed visits from their master were not to be expected they should be safe.

Harry and Hermione meanwhile had a long talk. Both had had revelations during the last few weeks that did not sit well with the `We're Gryffindor and therefore Light´- canon they'd been raised to since their entry into the magical world. In the end they agreed to at least listen to the other side and help people like Dolohov if they wanted to get rid of their Dark Mark. Hermione also had skimmed through some of the books of her parents had about the magical world which painted a different light than those recommended to her through the Muggleborn pamphlet. The tenor there was that the more conservative faction of the Wizengamot leaned towards a stricter segregation due to fear while the more progressive one accused anyone not in line with them of being anti-Muggleborn and dark. Harry pointed out that if the progressive wizards' understanding of the modern Muggle world was as sketchy as Mr Weasley's they were severely underestimating Muggle technology and consequently the danger it presented for magical Britain. Hermione still wanted to ask adult Order members for their input but Harry pointed out Dumbledore's many failings in his own upbringing and what it had cost him. Mrs Granger's words rang in her daughter's ears and combined with their knew knowledge of the prophecy they were likely true.

"Hermione, I do not want to die. And neither do I want to kill. It took fourteen years and the help of Death Eaters for V- Moldiefart to come back. If we eliminate his powerbase any auror or Dumbldedore himself can vanquish him again. I guess he would not have used the bone-of-the-father etc. ritual for rebirth if there was an easier one. If we destroy any bones left we should be safe enough."

"That might be true. I still think there is something Dumbledore is not telling us, something that only he knows about that tethers the Dark Lord to the earthly plane. Maybe Dolohov knows more. I think you should ask for a boon for getting rid of the Dark Mark, bartering like this makes us less looking like naïve children."

"Yeah, it would be the Slytherin way of quid pro quo."

"My, Harry, did you crack open a book?"

"No, I just watched `Silence of the Lambs´. And no digressing – what is it with you and Dolohov? You were following him around like a little puppy with stars in your eyes. Or was it hearts?"

She threw a cushion after her friend, but not before blushing deeply.

"Death Eater or not, he is a very skilled wizard. It is like watching Yehudi Menuhin play the violin. I do not understand half of it but his wards are a work of art, very elegant."

"He wears silk shirts! Don't you think that a little strange?"

"Haven't we just agreed to be more accepting? It could be a cultural thing."

"To my knowlegde a cultural thing would be an embroidered smock in case of a Russian."

"Pureblood culture?"

"He's a halfblood. But maybe he has an irritating rash. He told me that he suffers from an illness or something."

"Oh, and still he came to do our wards."

"Don't go all Florence Nightingale on him, he has Mrs Yaxley to mother him if necessary."

"Let's work on your wandless magic. We do not want the ministry after us if you work on their marks."

"I was planning it somewhere the ministry wouldn't notice. According to Neville all the old manors are off the map trace-wise."

"That is so unfair! Yet another disadvantage for Muggleborns!"

"He said it is because there are magical adults around who can help."

"Well, why then did we clean Grimmauld without magic? It is unplottable and Fidelius protected."

"I guess Mrs Weasley cannot supervise all of her children at once. Just imagine Fred and George being allowed to do magic."

"They do it anyway. Right. Let's wait for a message from Dolohov, but we could still practise."

Yaxley returned from Malfoy Manor with the Lestrange brothers in tow. Voldemort hadn't granted him a visit in private. He had shaken his head, instructed Rookwood to find a new wardsmith and dismissed his minions. When the Scot had walked towards the edge of the Malfoy wards he was stopped by Rodolphus.

"Corrie, do you think I could see Antonin?"

"Of course, I will tell Flora to prepare him."

Yaxley summoned his Patronus, a seagull, and in Gaelic instructed his wife to glamour Antonin for a deathbed-visit from Rodolphus Lestrange. Just then Rabastan emerged from behind a rosebush and frowned, "Why would Tony need to be glamoured?" Yaxley sighed, "Please Apparate to my manor's borders." He travelled first and stunned the Lestranges on sight, which was suspiciously easy. Rabastan was not easy to make out but Rod was very sharp behind all that poetry and mideaval scrolls. Floating their bodies behind him he made his way to Antonin's corner of the manor. Settling the brothers comfortably he used only minimal bonds to keep them there after Renervating them. Both were suspiciously relaxed.

"Yax, my friend, that was bad manners. Don't you trust us?"

"I do not trust anyone at Malfoy manor, there's portraits, there's elves, for all I know Lucius could be a peacock Animagus."

"Right. Do you truly have a way to let Tony die without the Dark Lord getting suspicious? Has he designed a ward around the mark?"

"Even better. I need vows from you."

The brothers agreed and the vows were done. Yaxley smiled at their expectant faces.

"We found a Parselmouth willing to help. The procedure is experimantal yet but I had to prepare the Dark Lord in case it worked at the first try. And if he does feel something through the mark, which I think highly unlikely, then he will think that's Tony in his death-throes."

"That is indeed good news. May we pay our respect to Lady Flora?"

The Scot rolled his eyes. Rod and his ideal of courtly love, fixated on his wife. Well, there was nothing to be done about it, the Scot did not have the heart to take away one of the few joys he had from the elder Lestrange and Flora liked the poems and songs well enough, even more so when Corban recited them to her at night. But he vowed to himself to find his comrade a more attainable woman after this whole Voldemort madness was over.

"Of course. And you can tell me whether the glamour is convincing."

Rab and Rod played along. Antonin was lying on his bed behind a class five shield, dark pustules oozing purulence, eyes darting about unseeing in fever.

"Oh dear! My Lady Flora, this looks like the Black Death!"

"It is, Rodolphus, it is. I am not sure whether a new curse or whether he got infected in the Department of Mysteries. I do not put it beyond them to keep dangerous viruses for research purposes."

"Flora, my love, the Lestranges are in the know and already vowed their silence. Tony, drop it."

"Thanks, that was uncomfortable. Flora transfigured my skin in case the Dark Lord tagged along."

They went over to a parlour and had tea and some leftover bilberry tarts. The Lestranges listened to the developments with open mouths. Rabastan could not contain himself any longer, "Tony pregnant! And Potter willing to get rid of the Dark Marks! Rod, will you pinch me? And do you think Miss Granger will gift me with a baby as well?"

Flora reigned the younger Lestrange's enthusiasm in, "From what Tony and I've read about male pregnancies they do not happen easily, are very rare and rather more dangerous for a man than usual pregnancies are. I would recommend the old-fashioned way of finding a witch and courting her if you wish for children."

"I might have found one but she is too young yet. I planned on approaching her after her NEWTs if our legal troubles are over then. But a man would suit me better."

"Right. I will contact Mr Potter soon and Corban will keep you informed. He and I have decided that he will keep his mark but will approach Kingsley Shacklebolt, demand a vow and work with him. Potter is not overly concerned whether a Death Eater deserves to get rid of his mark, he is pragmatic insofar as every minion less weakens the Dark Lord."

Rodolphus looked thoughtful, "It would be wonderful if Rab and I could get `killed´ on a mission. I have already filed for a dissolution of my marriage on the grounds of Bellatrix' refusal to bear an heir unless it is the Dark Lord's. Before that is through she might feel through our vows that I am still alive."

"I do not think that. On one hand Bella is not aware of you and on the other hand your bond is already hanging by a thread. I can see auras, the bond between Rab and Tony, who are mere comrades, is thicker and more vibrant than that between Bella and you. You do not need to wait in my opinion," Flora offered. Rod sketched a bow in her direction, "I'd rather not leave lose ends. My marriage will be history within a few days and the Dark Lord is planning a very dangerous mission next week while Bella is in Egypt. Usually we get sent together but not this time. Rab and I will volunteer, stage the scene and then come over here. Maybe Shacklebolt can brag about blowing us up. And before that I will tell our account manager to stall any very distant cousins from inheriting by doing a very thorough audit. Hopefully by the time the goblins finish that we can raise from the dead again."

Corban nodded his head, obviously avoiding Flora's worried gaze. With Dolohov and the Lestranges gone he was moving up in the inner cercle. He caught his wife's eye, "Flora, love, do you agree to a trial of maybe two months? If we do not make headway I will get rid of the mark, too, and we raise the war wards around the manor. They would take even the Dark Lord several months to unravel. Until then, would you agree that we house my comrades? It pools our ressources and seems the safest option to me."

Flora did not like it that Corrie had asked in front of their visitors but he was right. She had a few stipulations, though, "It goes without saying that I expect from all of you to take utmost care to keep as much as possible from the children. Am I understood?" Seeing only solemn, even slightly fearful in Rabastan's case, nods she continued, "I would further try to bring Snape and Narcissa Malfoy on board. Her boy is due to be marked, she would like to spare him. And her Occlumency is much better than Lucius'. Besides, the Dark Lord always understimates women. And I want an honest status quo meeting at the end of August. If Potter is back at Hogwarts he might not be available for Corrie for an extraction. She may not have the time but I think Mrs Granger too would be an asset for a war-coucil. I think we should reconvene after Antonin's extraction, but otherwise I agree with my husband. Rod, there are some books in your library that might help, Antonin can make a list. See that they are here before your mission."

Corban's eyes shone with pride and admiration still after everybody had left and they were alone in their bedroom.

"Flora, love, come to bed. I would like to practise."

The witch knew what her husband liked to practise but played along.

"Whatever for?"

"For the time when my mark is gone, the sucker is gone – if we work quickly our new boy or girl is in the same year as Antonin's!"

"Well, yes, that's true, even if Antonin's child will likely go to Durmstrang, he wants to go back to Russia. But we could try that shield spell, you could carry our next child. What do you think?"

To his credit Corban did not flinch, "A possibility, sure. But I am selfish – you are even more beautiful when your body is round and your breasts swell while I might waddle around like Slughorn."

Flora tugged him down into the bed.

Two days later Flora, Corban and Antonin had gone over their old notes of research concerning the dark mark and felt as ready as they could be. After asking Potter via the galleon Flora went to Hampstead to fetch the teen. She had to make the journey twice because of course Miss Granger wanted to tag along. As a precaution all of the Yaxley children were with cousins on the Isle of Harris, Corban citing a re-casting of the wards as reason.

Down in the ritual room of the manor Antonin had prepared a container usually used for class five potions ingredients, sage and other herbs for cleansing, a circle of salt and he had changed into a white shift. Traditionally this garment would be linen but Antonin had changed to silk. He was wearing one of Flora's summer nightshirts and as it was not commended to do any magic on the garment the lace had stayed on. Granger's eyes went wide but Potter took it in stride. Antonin explained the procedure and cast a spell that visualised his own magical aura – cool blues and greens much like an aurora, mixed with purple and dashes of orange here and there and a black area on his left arm. For comparision he cast the same spell on Potter. The teen lit up in a vibrant green with golden hues and a blackened area around his scar.

Antonin, the Parselmouth and Flora entered the cercle, the last two also changing into shifts and leaving any jewellery outside the barriere of salt. Corban was a dab hand at spells but they feared that the extracted mark would latch onto his were he to join them in the cercle. The MLE official asked Miss Granger to have her strongest shield spell at the ready and Flora started to chant. Antonin was trying to visualize his magic and detangle the strands that anchored the mark. At Flora's nod Harry started to chant in Parseltongue. The whole ritual room thrummed with powerful magic the like Hermione had not felt before. The Russian was sweating and growing paler by the minute, Flora's hair started to emit sparks. At last the mark started to shimmer and seemed to lift up from Dolohov's arm. With a hissed command it disengaged and seemed to drift towards Harry's forehead before Flora contained the small malevolent cloud into the potions container. She shooed both men out of the cercle and cast Fiendfyre on the whole container. Hermione got her first inkling of how truly dangerous and addictive such powerful magic could be. She had to hold Yaxley back from stepping into the cercle of salt. Finally the container was no more and Flora had controlled the spell.

Then her husband was no longer able to wait, he rushed to her side and drew her into an embrace. Harry seemed fairly unaffected by the whole situation therefore Hermione concentrated on Dolohov, who was sitting on the floor, staring at his arm and trembling. The witch cast a basic diagnostic spell that told her of nothing wrong. She knelt down and touched the man's shoulder.

"It's gone, it's truly gone!" Tears started to roll down his cheeks and after a moment of watching helplessly Hermione simply drew the man into an embrace.

Once more in their day-to-day clothes the group assembled for a spot of tea. Flora cast some more diagnostics on Antonin and on Harry, too, to prevent magical exhaustion. Corban excused himself to fetch the children back home but not before pleading the Lestrange's case to Harry, who promised to at least think about it. Hermione noticed that her friend was obviously uneasy about the power he held in his hands. And she felt that there was something Flora and Antonin held back. A glance passed between the two adults and would have likely lead to something being disclosed if not Harry chiming in. By now they were all on a first name base.

"Antonin, now you can get your illness treated."

Flora's eyebrows rose while the Russian cleared his throat.

"I told Mr Potter my need for non-skin-irritating fabrics comes from a condition. I guess this is as good a moment as any to tell them, don't you think, Flora?"

"Well, yes. Hermione, what we are going to tell you is of a deeply personal nature. Shall we ask Harry to wait outside?"

"He's my brother in every sense, we do not have secrets from each other."

At the boy's blushing she added, "Harry, I know that you like boys more than girls. It is painfully obvious to anyone except yourself and Ronald."

Potter blushed even more, "And you're all right with it?"

"Why wouldn't I? Is this another one of the Dursley's preaching lingering?"

He looked at the others in the parlour. Flora took the conversation up.

"Indeed, Harry, sexual preferences are seen differently in the magical world. As most marriages are arranged a lot of homosexual witches and wizards marry, have children, either with the help of spells or potions or just the natural way, and live their lifes according to their leanings. Triads and polyamory are less common now but still a respected form of forming a magical family."

"Wow."

Antonin took up, "Hermione, please bear in mind that nearly everything is possible with magic and that magic works not mainly through incantations but through intent. The Dark Lord broke me and others out of Azkaban. We had very little time to recuperate before he started to send us on to missions. I thought of defecting but seeing the twitching body of Igor Karkaroff and how his arm was burned off little by little via the Dark Mark I bided my time. Arriving at the ministry I was appalled that we were sent to fight against children. I always wished for a family and my greatest dream was going back to Russia, find a witch and raise a gaggle of children. I cannot and will not fight them at the behest of a madman. I shielded a blond witch from MacNair's spells by Confounding him and sent one over to you. I had tweeked a tickling hex to look like a fire-whip curse. Watching you darting around, casting and shielding effortlessly, I wished for the mother of my children to be such a formidable witch. Please believe me that in no way was I thinking of you in a sexual capacity. I sent my modified hex to keep you from running into the corridor MacNair had disappeared into but it rebounded. I felt a small ping low in my belly and then, through the mark, the Dark Lord and the Order approaching. I ran to the Apparition point of the Department of Mysteries and left."

Hermione's eyes were big and round, she did not yet know whereto this all was leading. The wizard continued, "Keep in mind the power of intent. The spell you used on yourself was one Yaxley's grandmother invented for her protection. As she was a rather young witch then it is rather crude in its construction. If someone would have stunned her with ill intentions it would have been those intentions that would be thrown back at the attacker and not the actual spell. As I cast a tickling hex to keep you from running into more danger I was thinking of what a formidable witch you were and how I wished for the mother of my children to be the same. Back at the place where all the others were staying after a few weeks I noticed things – constant fatigue, nausea, bouts of crying, elated heartrate and hightened sensitivity, hence those silly silk shirts. Corban feared that I had come across something dangerous in the Department of Mysteries and brought me home to Flora. Who, as an oftentime mother, cast a diagnostic usually not cast on wizards. In short, I am eight weeks pregnant. The only explanation for this we came up is that Lysandra's shield reflected a wish to impregnate – even if not targeted at you personally."

Hermione let out a little squeak before hiding her face in her hands. Harry looked totally bewildered. He enquired, "Male pregnancies are possible?"

Flora nodded, "They are quite rare and more prone to complications than female ones, but yes, there are a few books on them."

The teen blanched, "What about the birth?"

Mrs Yaxley had to chuckle at his horrified mien, "There are reports that sometimes a birth-canal develops in the man but usually the baby is delivered by a cesarean."

One had to give it to him, the boy rallied quickly, "So, congratulations to you both! Hermione?"

The young witch was still frozen in shock, staring at Antonin.

"Hermione! Come out of it!"

"Harry! I impregnated Antonin! What will my parents say? I am not yet 18, how can I be a mother? Or am I a father? This is so - " Words failed her. Antonin took one of her hands.

"Hermione, while it may be a lesson to you not to use spells you do not know inside out, I do not expect to support us financially or otherwise. I will find work in Russia, my mother will help with the baby. But I did not want to leave before you knew about the baby."

"What do you mean you do not expect anything from me?"

"It would be different if we had had engaged in physical relations resulting in a pregnancy due to our carelessness. But the only thing you did wrong was use a spell with unknown side-properties for your own protection. Again, intent."

"But I could see you and the child?"

"Of course. For both of your sakes we should be discreet, my reputation in England being what it is for the foreseeable future, but I would not keep you from him or her."

She still seemed to be in kind of a shock when Harry spoke up again, "Right, Hermione, get your planner out. We will have to get rid of You-know-who as soon as possible. A new government should get everyone involved fair trials, the world has to be safe again for your son or daughter."

That got her notice. Antonin was secretly impressed by the magically modified planner she took out of her little bag. Writing down a few points she asked Antonin, "Do you have a healer and a midwife who knows about male pregnancies? Will you travel to Russia by Muggle means, in case V-Moldieshorts monitors Portkeys and the Floo? Do you have Muggle documents?"

"Yes, no and yes. Hermione, I am pregnant, not an invalid, and I am an adult, perfectly capable of looking after myself." Harry held up a hand, "That's her way of coping with stress, give her some time and let her fuss over you, it is easier that way. Hermione, let's focus on getting rid of U-no-poo."

Another exchanged glance between Antonin and Flora. The Russian adressed Harry, "Will you let me cast a spell at you? Flora is casting it at me first, to show you what it is about. It is called Hominium Revelio. The reason why I am asking is that there is something strange about your scar. You have seen it light up black, just like the dark mark."

"Dumbledore said it bleeds sometimes and gives me visions because it is a curse scar."

Flora sat up, anxious all of a sudden, "What kind of visions?"

"Last year I used to dream of a hallway in the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore would not be alone with me, never looking me into the eye. He said that from the day my parents died the curse scar formed a connection, that You- fuck it! – the Dark Lord could send me visions. Only he sent me a false one, of Sirius being tortured in the Hall of Prophecies. When we got there we realised it was a trap, Sirius had been at home, safe. He came then to help me, it is my fault he is dead."

Antonin shook his head, "It is Bellatrix' fault first, then the Dark Lord's, and also Dumbledore's because he obviously knew what the connection was about and did not tell you."

Flora could no longer detain herself, "Tony, if the Dark Lord can send Harry visions he can see what we are doing here, none of us is safe and Corrie is in grave danger!"

"No, I did not have a vision in two months and I also did not get flashes of anger or glee from him. Dumbledore made me learn Occlumency with Snape, which was a disaster, but at least I got as far as noticing when someone tries to enter my mind. And the headmaster said that the Dark Lord was depleted after their duel, that he lacks the magical strenght to use our connection at the moment."

Again Dolohov disagreed, "That may have been the case right after their duel. I can't fathom him staying weak for such a long time. There are dark rituals, like eating the still beating heart of a werewolf, that boost ones magic. No, Flora is right, your scar is a potential danger to us all."

"Can you do something about it?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Yes, an accomplished Legilimens could block it possibly. I wonder why Dumbledore never tried."

"Because Harry is his weapon and because he wants to keep his options open and us stumbling blindly. I am thoroughly disenchanted with the old mage," Hermione offered, "But first things first – will you do the Hominium on me first?"

The result looked much like the aura spell, safe for a glowing patch on the young witch's sternum. Flora then cast it on Antonin. His own sould glowed much like Hermione's but there was small speck of a glow above his pubic bone. Hermione made an instinctive motion to reach there, aborted it when she came to her senses. The Russian took her hand and laid it over his belly, "There's not much to feel yet, although sometimes I mean to feel a connection that goes beyond anything I have ever felt for my family or friends."

Flora then cast on Harry. While his soul glowed golden at the same place as with the others there was a ragged patch of something in sulphurous yellow at the place of his scar. The elder witch sighed and Antonin switched into curse-breaker mode. He cast detection after detection spell and then one that showed Harry's magical core. The foreign magic from the scar was reaching into it but it did not look too intricately meshed. The cursebreaker stopped and drew a deep breath.

"Fuck Dumbledore! I can't imagine he doesn't know about this and still he left you in the dark!" At Harry's panicked state he continued, "The good news is that you are not possessed and that I am fairly sure that whatever it is I can contain it in a way that neither he could send you visions nor you could inadvertedly betray our plot."

"And the bad?"

"I will have to look something up in the Lestrange library first. It does not look like what I feared but then you got it when the Dark Lord vanished. It might be atypical. I will tell you as soon as I know."

Flora offered the teens to stay here but they wanted to return to the Granger residence, Hermione asking for something to read about magical pregnancies and babies and about male pregnancies as well. The young witch tried to apologize to Dolohov but the man would not accept any apologies, deeming them unnecessary.

"That child is already very dear to me and might well be my saving grace. It is a gift from magic itself."

Back at Hampstead Harry distracted himself by planning an elaborate dinner, providing Hermione with a jug of lemonade for her reading spree. They would bring the Grangers up to date after feeding them tiramisu.

August was a rather busy month for our conspirators. Mr and Mrs Granger joined the war council, as did Narcissa Malfoy. Shacklebolt proved to be already tired of the way Dumbledore and Moody led the Order and became an important ally. The Lestrange brothers never went on their assignment. They, along with Thorfinn Rowle, got rid of their marks while Shacklebolt staged an ambush where all three of them were blown up supposedly. Corban Yaxley went to the Dark Lord with the sad tale of Antonin's passing because of a previously unknown wizarding strain of the Black Death while wearing a hazard shield. Due to taking Severus Snape in the boat – Harry had to corner him at Spinner's End with pictures of a young Snape and Lily Evans, courtesy of Rabastan Lestrange – they managed to ` infect´ Lucius and Draco while letting MacNair die of gruesome blackish boils. The Dark Lord got even more paranoid and sequestered himself away in the rotting Riddle Mansion in Little Hangleton, with only Peter Pettigrew as company.

Harry was devastated by Antonin researching him to be a living Horcrux. He did not leave his room for three days straight. Severus Snape and Rabastan staged an intervention, Snape shouting at the boy quite incoherently things like "Lily's boy" and "vowed to keep you safe" while Rabastan ignored the smell of unwashed teen and drew the youngster into an embrace, telling stories of how he kept himself occupied in Azkaban by dreaming an impossible dream of his life afterwards. In the end those words did it, "Harry, you have got the best magical minds of the magical world working on your problem from all angles – potions, cursebreaking, runes, arithmancy. Tony warded it and Corrie used up all his favours with the Goblins for a ritual, we will help you and we will get rid of it! You have to plan for the next year, you are Quidditch captain again!"

"Let Ron have it, I have to deal with Moldie and prepare being a godfather."

"That's the spirit! Off to the shower with you!"

Hermione had several long talks with her parents, her mother particularly. She still struggled with all the emotions surrounding her impending motherhood but had a plan mapped out: she would take her NEWTs at the middle of her sixth year. Hermione was positive to be able to pass them, even with reasonably good marks. She buried her dreams of being Head Girl, of getting the highest marks in several decades, streamlined her courseload and started to learn Russian, as her plan involved staying with Antonin, their child and his family at least for the first months.

The conspirators sped up any plans to help unwilling Death Eaters getting rid of their marks because none could see Harry suffer because of the Horcrux in his scar longer than absolutely necessary. They surmised that with the soul-piece the Parseltongue would be gone as well, the goblins, who would do the ritual, thought so as well. The last ones to get rid of the mark were Yaxley and Snape, the latter having brought round at least half of the year six and seven pupils of Slytherin house for an extraction first. Hermione had voiced her doubts about some of them but when Theodore Nott had to be dragged away crying after hugging Harry for some minutes she was more inclined to believe the Potions master that they all were sincere in their wish not to be under Voldemort's command.

Mr and Mrs Granger had gone on some hiking tours in the area of Little Hangleton during which they managed to attach an infrared camera to a tree with a good view of the old Riddle mansion. Mr Granger had busied himself with old records of the area and had found out that during the thirties the Riddle family had been the first in the area to establish a gas supply line in their home.

Harry Potter went back to Hogwarts. Antonin had shown him a permanent glamour that made his scar appear like before when in reality it was hardly noticeable anymore. The ritual at Gringott's had worked without a hitch and enabled the goblins to find another Horcrux, a cup in Bellatrix Black's vault. With the two Horcruxes they were confident to come up with a ritual to call all possibly remaining pieces.

Dumbledore sometimes called Harry to his office, showing him memories of Tom Riddle as a child and later a Hogwarts pupil. Working with Snape on his Occlumency under the guise of detentions – and this time really learning the art – Harry was prepared for those strange lessons with the headmaster. The old mage did not suspect that his weapon was no longer loyal. Even after Snape had shown Dumbledore his unblemished forearm the man was adamant that the prophecy was still important and that Harry had still to confront Voldemort. And the sixth year still found time to come to terms with his blossoming sexuality. Snogging Theo Nott in the library, crushing on Draco Malfoy, testing the waters for a full coming-out by telling Neville and Luna first.

Katarina Dolohovna was overjoyed to have her youngest back home in early October even if the boy told her that he would have to travel to and fro at least until the Dark Lord was gone for good. Apprehension filled her when, after a lot of tears, hugs and a meal, Antonin told his mother that he had something really serious to tell her. After he revealed his pregnancy she relaxed. Her youngest's baby would be her eight grandchild, everything would be fine. But she wanted to meet the mother as soon as possible.

Before dentistry Mr Granger's first interest had been chemistry. His parents' financial situation had not allowed for him to pursue it on university level but the interest had stayed. Besides, it was not really difficult to build a bomb. It might be overkill but the conspirators had agreed that the goblins would do the soul shard collecting ritual at the same time that Mr Granger, Thorfinn Rowle and Kingsley Shackelbolt would blow up the Riddle mansion. Hermione's father had the time of his life murmuring things like `ready at 2200´ to his co-conspirators. Mrs Granger rolled her eyes. Just in case the prophecy might be right after all they let Harry connect the last wire on the bomb. The plan was simple: after ascertaining the whereabouts of Riddle and Pettigrew in the main dining room via the infrared camera Thorfinn would take the bomb and walk the public footpath bordering on the grounds. Then he would enter the grounds whereupon an alarm would sound in the mansion. Shacklebolt had prepared the inhabitants by confounding hikers to trespass, watching and having a shield spell ready, just in case. It was as expected – the Dark Lord did not need the complication of a dead or missing Muggle near his hideout. Usually he and the rat-Animagus watched and waited, sometimes they re-cast a Muggle repelling charm. Both Voldemort and Pettigrew had gotten used to these sort of false alarms. Which gave Rowle about three seconds to sprint across the lawn, throw the Quaffle, pardon, the bomb, through the window into the dining room and turn around towards safety again. Much to the joy of the Yaxley children this had been rehearsed with a fake bomb over and over, with 97 successes out of a 100 throws, to which Severus Snape commented that it was a hell of a better ratio than Dumbledore's average plans had. Harry agreed heartily.

Hermione Granger delved into her schooling with gusto. Her teachers were glad that finally her homework was within the assigned length. At least twice a week she exchanged letters with Antonin. Her crush abated somewhat after the Russian had explained to her that he could and would not reciprocate for two reasons. The first was the gap in age and maturity but the more important one was that he did not want to endanger their relationship as parents. Mrs Granger reinforced Antonin's arguments. When her daughter countered that with wizards a twenty year gap meant nothing at 140 and 160 she answered, "I won't say a thing when you are 140, you have my blessing. For now you are 17 and wish for a man who has spent 14 years of his life in prison, he went to Azkaban when you were entering kindergarden. That is a disparity in life experience that cannot be bridged by knowledge and learning. Do not misunderstand me, I like him a lot, but I fear entering a sexual relationship with each other is not in the best interest of all three of you." Time would prove that Mrs Granger was right and lots of extra schoolwork and planning to end an evil dictator distracted Hermione for the moment.

Antonin had to be honest with himself. With pregnancy hormones all over him after nearly 15 years of enforced celibacy he had been tempted by Hermione. Very sensible arguments and visions of Mr Granger and his chemistry set cooled his ardour. Whatever time was left from planning his move back to Russia and getting things in motion for a mostly Death Eater free ministry after Voldemort's demise with Yax and Shacklebolt was spent on getting healthy and learning about childrearing. Contrary to Hermione, who relied on many books, Antonin spent a lot of time with the Yaxley children, talked to Flora and to the nanny elf and his midwife. At the beginning of September he meant to detect a very slight bulge on his otherwise still lean frame. His last meeting with Hermione before leaving for Russia during the first Hogsmeade weekend started akward enough with the witch overcome again because of the visible changes but soon they found other things to talk about and planned a visit from all the Grangers over Yule at his family home on the Lake Baikal near Irkutsk.

A week before Samhain Luna Lovegood cornered Harry after dinner and told him that the next two days would be ideal for getting rid of a dark presence in all of their lives. How the witch knew remained a riddle, at least until Rabastan confessed to being Luna's penpal since winning one of the Quibbler's invisible creature – competitions shortly after Azkaban. Years later Harry would sometimes shudder at how many things could have gone wrong then – Thorfinn not being quick or exact enough, the bomb malfunctioning, Luna inadvertedly revealing their plans. But by then ten years of peace and a mostly fair government with Kingsley Shacklebolt as minister, would have gone by.

On the evening of October 25th 1996 Mrs Granger drove her husband, a bomb and two wizards to Little Hangleton, mindful of potholes. Then she parked behind a copse off the road. It would not do for someone noticing a foreign car on the day the old Riddle mansion blew up. Although the evening was chilly she kept the car window open and was glad that at exactly 2200 hours an almighty `Boom´ was heard. The bomb had obviously worked. Minutes later her husband and Thorfinn came running, elated and talking simultaneously. Shacklebolt would remain and arrange everything in a way that Muggle firemen and police would come to the conclusion that a minor leak in the gas pipeline had, although the gas had been turned off in the house proper, over the years had filled the cellar and that two vagrants had inadvertedly blown themselves and everything else up trying to heat some tins in the dining room fire.

Yaxley at the ministry had stayed long into the night together with Amelia Bones. They took careful notice of who acted suspiciously, like calling in a sudden illness or trying to clear their desks at night. Twentytoo hitherto unsuspected Death Eaters were caught that way. Their forearms bore a faint imprint of the Dark Mark still.

In the morning they sent their Muggle liason to the mysterious explosion in Little Hangleton. The two Aurors collected DNA (and the magical signature) and, seeing that their Muggle counterpoints had everything in hand and read the clues the way the conspirators wished for, left. The MLE confirmed after two hours, the Department of Mysteries took their time and confirmed after two weeks but then it was official – Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. aka "Lord Voldemort" and Peter Pettigrew had died in an explosion due to a gas leak.

The goblins sent a terse note to Mr Potter that all soul shards had been destroyed.

Rabastan Lestrange had found his soulmate the day Harry Potter extracted his dark mark. But as the boy had not even quite accepted his own homosexuality the younger Lestrange settled in for quite a wait. Harry and he kept up a correspondence during the teen's last two years at Hogwarts, first centering around runes tutoring which they had started back in August when the youth had been intrigued by the endless possibilities of that art in rituals and protection magic. It was by then too late for Harry to change his electives but with Rabastan's one on one tutoring, his own growing interest and Luna's occasional help he managed to become quite proficient in Ancient Runes. After the first few letters more and more personal matters were discussed as well. Rabastan helped Harry through his first major heartbreak – Theo Nott had found out that he was bisexual and wanted to explore that side as well – and tried to distract him with more and more complex runes. After Rab's acquittal they usually met during Harry's Hogsmeade weekends, taking lunch together before tackling some rune project. Later Harry would pinpoint one afternoon at Rosmerta's, when the sun had highlighted the reddish hue in Rab's locks, as the time he had become aware of the younger Lestrange as a man.

Nadeshda Guinevere Granger Dolohovna was born on March 31st in 1997. Antonin was quite glad that it had been a cesarean. Severus Snape had tweaked an existing potion so that both parents could breastfeed little Nadja. Hermione had sat for eight NEWTs at the end of January, her lowest grade had been 92% in Herbology. After the exams she had gone to Siberia to prepare for the birth. During her many academic discussions with Antonin she had found her true calling in Arithmancy, mainly in the practical application of this branch of magic. Her stay in Siberia afforded her a broader view of the magical world and had brought Japan and its own special way of wielding magic into her focus. As the jump to Sapporo was just about possible with Portkeys from Irkutsk the young witch enrolled in the wizarding university there and additionally trained with the goblins of Gringotts Irkutsk. She would eventually marry a fellow Arithmancer from Salem university and have two more children.

Finlay Corban Yaxley was born on the 1st of June the same year. Flora had spared her husband the toils of pregnancy but told him that with three girls and three boys any more pregnancies would be on him. She kept in touch with Mrs Granger and altough neither woman ever held any official position of power historians would later trace the roots of many new legal initiatives back to them. By clever networking they brought British wizarding society into the 21st century without endangering the Statue of Secrecy. Mrs Granger was the only Muggle ever to be awarded the title `Friend of the goblin nation´.

Albus Dumbledore found that more and more of his plans unravelled without him being able to pinpoint the reason why. Harry Potter behaved oddly. The boy was attending his lessons, he even was interested in Tom Riddle's youth, but he seemed to reach the wrong conclusions. He started to ask strange questions like why children were sent back to London during a Muggle war. Or how he had known that the things he had burned in front of little Tom had been stolen. Maybe that Muggleborn Granger had put such strange notions into the boy's head. The headmaster was not sorry to see her leave Hogwarts due to a family emergency during her sixth year. And then the ministry insisted that Voldmort had died due to a Muggle accident! It was like in '94 again, they tried to appease the masses, but he, Albus Dumbledore, knew that the fiend was only vanquished temporarily! There were the Horcruxes and the prophecy, too. Only Harry Potter could kill the wizard!

Severus Snape had few weaknesses. One was Muggle cigarettes and the other attending Heavy Metal festivals. But, despite that he often enough hated the man for his highhandedness and his cavalier attitude towards bullying, he also had a lingering fondness for Albus Dumbledore. The man had gotten him out of Azkaban and had given him shelter at Hogwarts during a time he was in no shape to even tie his own shoelaces. Therefore he made a valiant effort to convince the headmaster that Voldmort was truly gone. Yet the old coot only twinkled at him and continued to call Harry for pointless lessons. He also ignored Minerva McGonagall's and Poppy Pomfrey's more and more urgent hints about getting his mandatory health checks until the board of governors suspended the headmaster. Dumbledore went to live with his brother for a few weeks until they both agreed that he was better off in a wizarding retirement home in Madeira where he passed away after his 121st birthday. Snape trained Aurora Sinistra as Head of Slytherin before quitting his teaching career. He went into independent research, funded by the Malfoy family, and patented over twohundred new potions besides being godfather for a lot of the numerous offspring of his former pupils and comrades. Ten years after the demise of the Dark Lord he met a Muggle woman, a human rights lawyer with a mean motorbike and tattoos all over, at Wacken Open Air Festival. They bought the neighbouring houses at Spinner's End for a laboratory and a garage and spent their money on a state of the art sound system and two Harley Davidsons.

Antonin Dolohov took to parenting like a fish to water. When Nadeshda was old enough to stay with her grandmother for a few hours a day he startet working part-time as a wardsmith at Gringotts in Irkutsk where he met his future wife, a curse breaker. They married quickly and had five more children.

Rodolphus Lestrange continued to write poetry for Flora and finally had enough time to learn playing the lute. Some sonnets were directed at Luna Lovegood as well as Amelia Bones. All three women let themselves being courted with grace but no inclination whatsoever to let it progress further. Roddy would not have known what to do then in any case. One day, about five years after the final vanquishing of the Dark Lord, Neville Longbottom had asked Rod to travel in his stead to a fellow herbologist for the delivery of some very delicate saplings because the birth of his first child was imminent. Marceline Devereux was a widowed witch who ran some greenhouses on the border of Honey Island Swamp in Lousiana. Neither Longbottom nor Lestrange had spared any thoughts to hurricane season, which hit this part of the country just after Rod had delivered all his saplings. Instead of going home back to England he spent the following week hardly sleeping and helping Marceline cast enforcment spells on her greenhouse roofs and keeping a shield over the whole enterprise. After catching up with the witch – initially Rod had tended to think up elegant but complicated solutions when timely intervention was needed most – they and their personal brands of magic worked surprisingly well together. During the days that followed after the worst was over they recuperated, nearly depleted by keeping powerful spells up for such a long time, and got to know each other.

Marceline, widowed with two children aged eleven and thirteen, had never before thought about medieval poetry, but she was an accomplished witch, very much in touch with her own magic and the magic of the lands around her. She awakened something in Rodolphus that had been lain dormant since his late teens, a feeling of hunger and desire, lust even, and on its heel the possibility of loving an attainable woman. The elder Lestrange would travel between Hertfortshire and Lousiana a few more times before acknowledging his feelings towards Mrs Devereux. Mindful of Marceline's reputation and that of her children they handfasted a year after the first delivery. Both sets of friends looked at the surprising relationship with trepidation but soon were mollified. When Rod got into one of his moods Marceline's down-to-earth approach and even more her deep and abiding love for him managed to snap him out of it. When Marceline got weighted down by her manyfold duties as a mother, a business woman, a boss he pampered and spoilt her and yes, read poetry to her until she felt like the most desirable woman on earth again. They had two more children together and lived happily ever after.

At the age of twentyfour Harry Potter sat at the Burrow's back garden, nursing a butterbeer and watching family and friends. His last relationship with a French Quidditch player had petered out nearly eight months ago. Seeing all the Weasleys with their red hair he finally realised that his thoughts always returned a man with a darker shade of chestnut, an irresistible smirk and a vast knowledge of Ancient Runes. He sent a Patronus to Rabastan to meet at a pub. When the man arrived he took one look into Harry's eyes and sighed, "At long last!" They were inseparable since.

All was well.

Fin