Chapter Five

"Bugger!"

Minerva raised an eyebrow at Deidra Crouch who had just stumbled walking out of the Great Hall after supper, on her way to dorms. Sorted to Slytherin like her older sister Delilah, the first year was notoriously clumsy. The Scottish woman had observed that much at various family functions over the years, and with a heavy sigh moved over to check on the eleven year old. "Deidra?" she said, approaching. "Are you alright?"

The blonde haired girl peered up at her, cradling her left wrist, lip trembling a bit as she made a valiant effort not to cry despite obviously being in pain. "My wrist hurts," she admitted.

She offered her hand, and helped Deidra to her feet. "Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey," Minerva suggested. "Honestly though, you've only been here a few hours. I was hoping you'd make it through the first week, at least, before you managed to injure yourself."

That got a bit of a grin out of Deidra. "Sorry Aunt Minerva," she said. "I can't help that I'm clumsy. Mother says I have two left feet."

"According to your Aunt Cedrella," the Transfiguration Professor confided, "Your mother had two left feet at your age, so with luck you'll outgrow it in time, my dear."

Deidra smiled as she followed Minerva down a corridor and up several flights up stairs toward the Hospital Wing, the two making small talk about the last family gathering, the older of the pair regaling the younger with a few tales of her mother's youth which Cedrella had told Minerva about, which Deidra was deeply amused by, taking the young Witch's mind off the pain she was currently in. Eventually, they arrived at their destination, Poppy looking bemused by the fact that she was already getting an injured student in her Hospital Wing.

"Welcome," the Healer said with a soft smile. "You, young lady, have the privilege of being my very first patient here at Hogwarts. I admit I knew somebody would be the first, but I didn't expect it to be so soon."

Minerva smiled. "Miss Crouch took a bit of a tumble coming out of the Great Hall. I don't think the wrist is broken. Likely a sprain."

Deidra shook her head in agreement with Minerva. "Yes, a break hurts more than this. I broke the other arm last summer falling out of a tree in our yard. That hurts."

"Well let's just get a professional opinion," Poppy said, looking amused, "if you two wouldn't mind?"

"Yes ma'am," Deidra said obediently, taking a seat when the Healer pointed to one of the beds.

Minerva had met Poppy in passing at staff meetings in the last few weeks, but they hadn't had much of a time to talk. She really didn't know much about the older woman, only that she'd begun her Healer training at one point and then stopped for a time, only to go back and complete it later. Albus had mentioned that Poppy had done the last of her training over in America, which Minerva found interesting, wondering why a British born Witch would choose to leave familiar territory like that, knowing full well from her own brother's various comments over the years that St. Mungo's had one of the best Healer Training Programs in the world. So, if that was true, why would Poppy opt to complete her education anywhere else?

"Well, it looks like you two were correct," the Healer said after flicking her wand around a bit in precise motions. "A minor sprain."

Another few quick movements and Deidra's wrist was shimmering as a magical splint was applied to keep the wrist still, and Minerva raised an eyebrow as Poppy wandlessly and silently summoned a Potion from the other side of the room, and offered it to the first year Slytherin. "Down the hatch," she ordered firmly.

"Artobfa?" Deidra asked, looking half annoyed as she looked at the vial of reddish liquid.

The Healer snorted in amusement. "Indeed."

"It's gross," the girl complained.

"It will ease the pain and reduce the swelling so your arm can properly heal," Poppy replied with a look that Minerva understood to mean that she was not going to negotiate with this child.

Deidra looked petulant, but didn't object further. "I know," she grumbled. Then, she upturned the vial and drank the potion in one gulp. "Let me guess, come back tomorrow evening for you to remove the splint spell?"

The Healer crossed her arms. "Just how often do you injure yourself, Miss Crouch?"

The young Slytherin shrugged. "Lots. Two left feet, or so Mother tells me. Aunt Minerva assures me I'll outgrow it."

Poppy glanced at Minerva, clearly a bit taken aback by the addressment. She sighed. "That's Professor McGonagall while in school, Deidra. Please do try to remember that, my dear."

Deidra rolled her eyes. "I'm not a dunderhead, Aunt Minerva, but there's no other students here. I don't think Madam Pomfrey cares that I see you on holidays or that you're practically part of the family. Besides, if you think I'm bad, just wait until Ed starts up here. If he's anything at all like Aunt Cedrella, you're in trouble!"

Minerva groaned. "I was really trying not to think about that, thanks."

The girl slid off the bed. "I best get down to dorms. "I'll see you in class tomorrow. I think I have Transfiguration in the afternoon."

"With the Gryffindors, yes," she confirmed. "You'll see Fabian and Gideon then."

"Along with that Muggleborn boy we befriended on the train," Deidra said with a nod. "Artie Fredericks. He sorted to Gryffindor as well. Evelyn Diggory went to Hufflepuff, of course, which is very inconvenient. You were right when you said we'd get on. I spent most of the train ride talking to her."

Minerva smiled at the connection made. Evelyn's mother, Olivia Gamp, had been a Hufflepuff in Minerva's year, and a friend of hers at Hogwarts. Knowing Olvia's elder daughter, Evelyn, would be starting this term, she'd mentioned it to Deidra and asked the girl to keep an eye out for the apparent Hufflepuff. Minerva had met Evelyn and her younger sister Anna more than a few times and she had been confident that Evelyn and Deidra would get on, different Houses completely aside. After all, that Minerva and Olivia had been in different Houses hadn't mattered. "I'm glad to hear you two are getting along," she replied. "Now off with you. It's getting close to curfew. Don't forget to check in with Madam Pomfrey tomorrow after supper."

"Of course, Aunt Minerva," Deidra said agreeably. "Thank you Madam Pomfrey."

With that, the first year Slytherin was up off the bed and ambling out the door, leaving the two women alone in the Hospital Wing. "You spend a great deal of time with the Blacks, don't you?" Poppy stated after a pause.

"Why? Did you want an introduction?" Minerva inquired with a bit of a chuckle.

The Healer laughed. "Hardly. I'm already fairly acquainted with their Head of House."

That caused her to raise an eyebrow. The Scottish woman had not realized the new Healer had any connection at all to the Blacks. "What occasion would you have had to meet Sirius?"

Poppy let out a snort. "Honestly Minerva, do you truly think he is the Head of that House?"

Minerva smirked, understanding dawning. Of course it was her. It always was, it seemed. "Ah, so you know Hermione, then. Yes, she makes quite the impression, doesn't she?"

The Healer was quiet for a moment, busying herself with the task of putting away some potions. Then, she spoke again. "I owe her my life. At some point I'd rather like to repay that debt."

Mage lore cycled through Minerva's mind. "She cannot accrue life debts, Poppy," came a quiet admission. "It's against the laws of magic for her to obtain them, so whatever you think you owe her, don't imagine she is holding it against you in any way. I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to explain why, exactly."

The Healer rolled her eyes. "I'm well aware she's a bloody Mage, Minerva," she said, surprising the Scottish Witch with her knowledge, "and I know she likes to keep that under wraps. I didn't mean in the magical sense. I just meant that she saved my life, and as a human being I feel like somewhere down the line, perhaps not in the direct turn about manner, I would hope to be able to help her in some way as some kind of thank you."

"What happened?" the younger woman asked curiously. "I mean, if it's not too rude to inquire."

Poppy sighed, taking a seat on one of the beds. "I'm powerful, magically speaking, and my early life was not without trials. Very long story short, I manifested an Obscurus. There is only one cure for that, and if you know enough about Mages to know that they cannot claim life debts, I expect you already know that a Mage is an Obsucrial's only salvation. In any case, I was prepared to die, and nearing the end despite my father's best efforts to slow my decline, and then Hermione showed up, and she saved me."

"Just like that?" Minerva asked, both awed and puzzled by such a random act of kindness. Obscurials only formed in the wake of particularly powerful Witches and Wizards. To cure one without any real knowledge of what sort of person that individual is could be a risky proposition. How did Hermione know that Poppy was a good person? She might have just as easily been a Dark Witch.

"Bloody woman just strolled into the Hog's Head looking for my Father one day because she was seeking a Potions Master to help her finish with her Awakening. She realized what was going on with me, and decided to fix me on the spot," Poppy continued to explain. "No questions asked, no conditions, no price. How does one repay that sort of kindness?"

Minerva blinked once, then twice, the pieces clicking together. "Aberforth Dumbledore is your father?" she exclaimed.

Poppy looked amused. "No need to shout, Minerva. And yes, that makes Albus my Uncle. There's a sensible reason I go by another name."

"It's not your Mum's name?" the Transfiguration Professor asked, that having been her first guess when her brain connected the idea that while a Dumbledore, Poppy clearly didn't carry the name.

"Hardly, although the first letter is right. Mum was a Prince. Seems like they like to disown a daughter or two a generation. Would love to find out what happened to Eileen, and Merlin knows Anette had disavowed Genia long before she died. Used to see Eileen down at the Hog's Head, now and then, not that she had any idea we were related, but after Eileen graduated she up and vanished. I heard she ran off with a Muggle."

Minerva nodded. "I remember Eileen from school. She was better at Potions by her second year than I was by my fifth. I haven't the foggiest what happened to her, although I'd be willing to bet Hermione would. Aside from the fact that she's close to the Flitwicks and has a connection to the Princes there, she also has to do business with Octavian and Regina Prince more than a little, and even though they disowned Eileen, I'd bet they do know where she is. Hermione has her sticky hands in every little corner, in any case. She'd be your best bet to find information."

"As if I need to owe her anything more than I already do," the other woman mused.

The Scottish woman chuckled. "I'm pretty sure she gets off on having and sharing knowledge, so honestly if you go to her asking for her help with information, you'll be making her day in all likelihood."

Poppy laughed loudly, and Minerva decided right then and there that this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Aberforth was surprised when his daughter Floo'd into the Hog's Head on the evening of September the first. "Shouldn't you be at the school?" he asked in greeting.

"I have a ward set to alert me if anyone enters the Hospital Wing," she replied calmly, "and I can easily Floo right back. I need to contact Hermione and as I can't cast a Patronus, I was wondering if you might do me a favor and send one on my behalf."

"Is the need that urgent?" he asked, concerned.

"Less urgent, and more an issue of sensitive information," Poppy admitted. "I don't trust Owl post not to be intercepted, and in this instance the contents of the Owl would connect me to Hermione and vice versa, which neither of us, I think, would prefer. Floo would have the same result. That doesn't even account for anything else I might add to explain why I want to speak to her, and who might be put in danger as a result."

"I think America made you paranoid, my dear," Aberforth teased.

"I'm afraid that's just a result of genetics, Father," his daughter bantered. "In any case, do you mind?"

The older of the pair nodded in agreement, pulling out his wand and casting his goat Patronus, sending it off to Hermione at once with instructions to tell her that Poppy was seeking an audience if she could get away immediately, and if not, to return a Patronus with word of when would be a better time.

Only a few minutes later, the Floo to the Hog's Head roared to life again, and Hermione stepped out of the fireplace and greeted the pair. "Aberforth, Poppy," she said with a soft smile. "What can I do for you this evening?"

Poppy launched into an explanation. "I was speaking with Minerva this evening about a girl who graduated from Hogwarts some years ago that I'd be interested in tracking down. She suggested that you might be a good source of information. Something about having your mitts in every corner or some such. Eileen Prince was her name."

Hermione looked skeptically at the Healer. "What possible interest could you have in the Princes?" she asked.

Aberforth answered on his daughter's behalf. "Her mother was a Prince. Eileen would be her cousin."

Hermione's eyes widened considerably, as if she had some new piece to the great big puzzle in her head. Aberforth was without doubt that somewhere in the mix of the worlds she'd traveled to, she'd known a Prince, perhaps even Eileen. The younger Witch cleared her throat. "I knew a Prince once. We had a Kinship bond. As such, I've made it my business to look out for the family, since I arrived in the area. Eileen is married now, to a Muggle man called Tobias Snape. I don't get the impression he treats her particularly well, but short of dragging her out of there by force, there's very little I can do about it, as I do not believe she's willing to return to the Wizarding World. I do own a property near her home, however, and spend some of my holidays there. Perhaps if you can be available, over Christmas break you and I could call on her. An introduction to a relative who will not judge her for her choices may very well be the opening we need to create a foothold in her life, so that when she is ready to come home, she knows she has options that don't involve going crawling back to Octavian and Regina. I've endured the pair of them at parties, and have little doubt why she opted to leave."

Then, in a flood, it all came back to Aberforth. Severus Snape. He'd be Eileen's son. This was the boy Hermione had it in her head for him to mentor in due course, and more than just some Prince, he was the son of Poppy's cousin. He'd already been convicted in his desire to set this child on a path that didn't involve the eventual murder of his brother, but now that conviction was even stronger.

Poppy nodded in agreement of Hermione's plan for a meeting. "I'll let Albus know to expect me gone for at least a few days over the break, then. I had seen and spoken to Eileen a few times in passing when I was still Aurelius, when she was a student, but even then she never knew we were cousins. It's long past time we connect as the family we are."

"I agree," Hermione replied. "She's going to need support within the Wizarding community if she's ever going to step back into it. I shudder to think what she'll endure if she thinks coming back will only ever mean surrendering herself to her parents' whims. Octavian has made more than a few comments over the years about how Eileen ruined his plans to form an alliance with the Lestranges or the Carrows."

Poppy groaned. "No wonder the poor girl ran off. That said, I should get back to Hogwarts. I'll speak to my uncle and get back to you about what days I can be free to go for that visit."

"Sounds like a plan," the other woman replied easily.

With that said, Poppy made her way back over to the Floo, Hermione not moving to follow, no doubt wanting a word with him before she departed as well. As soon as his daughter was gone, Aberforth got right to it. "Eileen will be Severus' mother, won't she?" he asked.

The Mage nodded miserably. "Oh yes. In fact, she should be getting pregnant with him before much longer. He's born in January of nineteen sixty. On one hand, I think to myself it would be better to get her out of that horrible marriage of hers before she's forever tied to Tobias bloody Snape because of a child, but honestly Aberforth, I can't fathom a world without my brother in it. Is that selfish of me?"

He sighed. "From what you've told us, Severus Snape was pivotal in helping Harry Potter survive the war. If everything goes to shite and we're not here to help Harry for some reason - if the timeline isn't something we can change in a major way, then Harry will need Severus' help. Preventing his birth could be extremely detrimental, no matter how much it would help Eileen in the short term."

"So, we play the long game," she said with a sigh.

"We play with as many cards in our favor as possible," he corrected. "Many long games assume that a single well thought out plan will go according to plan, but when one thing doesn't happen as expected, it all falls apart. I simply suggest we play in a manner which assumes Murphy's Law is in motion, thereby what can go wrong bloody well might, and take into consideration those variables and account for them."

Hermione snorted in amusement. "Good thing I have such a pessimist on my team, isn't it? Between the lot of us, I've got Gryffindors, Slytherins, and a few who'd have easily been Ravenclaws. I think I might need to add a Hufflepuff to the mix."

He looked horrified. "Why the bloody hell would you do that?"

"For the occasional bout of optimism, to start with," his companion teased.

"Do we even know any Hufflepuffs?" Aberforth grumped. "Trustworthy ones, I mean."

"I can think of a few, across Alpha and Beta, who were Hufflepuffs that I'd consider trusting with everything and that I think would have something to contribute to our team," she mused. "Of course, most of them are still very young, or not even born yet. Hell, most of them don't even know me in this reality."

"Alright then," he said, voice challenging, "hit me. Who have you got?"

"Well from Alpha, there was Alastor Moody. You'd like him, Aberforth. Hufflepuff, yes, but one of the most paranoid old bastards I've ever known," she began. "There was also Dora Tonks, but she won't be even born until the early seventies, if she's born at all. She wasn't born in Beta. Bella, my niece, was a Hufflepuff in Beta. I'd trust her with my life, even if that does still boggle my mind a bit. Then there's Amos Diggory. Good man, lost his son in Alpha, and was a source of a great deal of the intelligence we got out of the Ministry. Still trying to sort out where he is in this reality. This generation's Diggorys have two daughters, but no son. I could have sworn Amos said his father was Camden, but I can't recall what year Amos was born, so it's possible that Amos just isn't born yet, and that he marries young and Cedric is born very early in that marriage. Alternately, maybe Amos just isn't born in this reality. I don't know."

"This is the problem with reality jumping," Aberforth pointed out, "some variables are literally a twist of fate."

"You're telling me!" Hermione agreed. "Pomona Sprout would be the other one I'd consider bringing into the fold from Hufflepuff. She was Head of Hufflepuff in Alpha, and while her career path was slightly different in Beta, her House was the same. She seems to be, at this point, on track in this reality to end up like she did in Alpha, but not unlike Minerva, she's still so young. Any of my potential Hufflepuff recruits are too young."

"Maybe you're just too damn old," the barkeep muttered.

The Mage sighed heavily. "Are you really going to criticize me for trying to protect them? For trying to preserve their innocence while they still have a chance of holding on to it?"

"They cannot learn to walk if you continue to take away every means with which to pull themselves up off the ground," he pointed out. "At some point, you have to allow them to face challenges, ideally the small ones as they come, so that when the greater ones are there and you can't protect them, they don't cave to the pressure because they lack any experience at all."

Hermione rubbed her temples. "Alright. I hear you. I will try to back off a bit. Perhaps it's time to begin more actively recruiting for the Resistance. I know it's still years out from open war, but it wouldn't hurt to have ears to the ground above our core team and the few allies we've accumulated in the last five years."

"You mean the fifteen or so people who've caught on that you're a bloody Mage since Angus told you to shove off if you thought he was walking away after your Herbology Mastery finished?" he taunted.

"Yes, well," she blushed. "Angus is a stubborn prat."

"I agree, though," he said pointedly. "It's time to begin recruiting for the Resistance. In fact, I'd start by officially inducting Poppy. Merlin knows my daughter already knows half of it as it is, and she'd be eyes inside Hogwarts, which we both know you want."

"I think I'll probably recruit Agatha as well, and I already have eyes inside Hogwarts, remember?" Hermione teased.

"Right, that project you and Angus worked up," the barkeep remembered. "Remind me never to piss you off. You are a bit masterful at planting spies in plain sight."

"Loathe as I am to admit it, I learned that particular skill from Albus," the Mage confessed. "Albus is a dab hand at it himself. Rather, he will be, eventually."

Aberforth poured them each a shot of Firewhiskey and pushed one toward his friend. "To espionage!" he offered.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but nodded in agreement as she picked up her glass. "To espionage, and to the Resistance."

"I don't care," Cedrella said as she stepped out of the Floo into Melok's living room, as soon as she had spotted the Goblin and confirmed the boys were nowhere in sight. "I just want to preface this entire conversation with that."

Melok stared at her, looking more than a little confused. "Come again?" he asked.

"I. Don't. Care," she repeated. "I don't care how you feel. At least, I care far more about the long game than I do about how you feel, or even how she feels. End of the day, though, my Aunt is a bleeding bloody heart and even if I attempted to have this conversation with her, I have absolutely no expectation I'd have any luck getting through to her. You, on the other hand, I think can be made to see sense."

Melok pointed to an armchair. "How about you take a seat and start speaking a bit less cryptically. Just what am I meant to see sense about?"

Cedrella huffed, but took a seat all the same, staring Melok down for a few seconds before replying. "Aunt Hermione isn't your wife," she said plainly. "I need you to stop behaving as if she were, before it destroys her relationship with Uncle Sirius."

He crossed his arms. "We're not having an affair, Cedrella."

"You don't have to be shagging to be having an affair, Melok. The only difference between the two is that it puts Uncle Sirius in a difficult position of not having a leg to stand on with accusations, which in a way makes what you and Aunt Hermione are doing even more dishonorable than if you were shagging, because you've tied his hands. That's not fair."

Melok sighed. "She's Godmother to my sons, Cedrella. I can't exactly tell her to stop coming around."

"No, but you are not obligated to take part in her activities with the boys," she said pointedly. "Minerva is Godmother to Edmund, and I enjoy the break it offers me when she comes around and takes my youngest off my hands for a little while. Sometimes I run an errand, or take a nap, or get some housework done without him underfoot. You are not obligated to take every one of her visits with the boys and turn it into a family event, further sealing a bond between you."

"So I'm just to steer clear of the woman who's become my best friend?" he snapped.

"When she's a married woman and you're halfway in love with her, yes," Cedrella countered. Personally, she thought he was more than halfway in love with Aunt Hermione, but she wasn't interested in pushing the Goblin too much this evening. That his face paled at her accusation was confirmation enough, however.

"I'd find it difficult to not be with them all if she was here," he admitted.

"Then have her take them to Grimmauld," she suggested. "Perhaps even encourage her to have them begin building a relationship with Uncle Sirius. He's a good man, Melok, and it wouldn't hurt for Filius and Caelum to have another positive male role model in their lives, especially now that Regulus is gone."

He looked sick at the notion, which had Cedrella curious. It was as if she had suggested introducing his sons to his wife's boyfriend. "I can't say I'm keen on that idea either," he said softly.

"That you aren't is further evidence to suggest your relationship with Aunt Hermione has become inappropriate," the redhead said pointedly, trying to sound gentle. "Melok, does she feel the same as you?"

The Goblin let out a ragged breath. "It's under control, Cedrella. We're not… we're not sleeping together."

She sat back in her seat. "I'll take that as a yes."

"I didn't say that!" he exclaimed.

"You didn't have to," Cedrella said pointedly. "That you couldn't tell me no told me all I needed to know. That said, please give it some thought. You must already understand you can't be together, and that you two are dancing on the line of what can and cannot be is putting Uncle Sirius in a shite position, and destroying the trust between he and Aunt Hermione. Have you considered the long term implications of that? When the war starts to get bad, what happens if Uncle Sirius doesn't completely trust Aunt Hermione? What happens if a call needs to be made, and his doubts about her personally bleed into the war effort and he begins to doubt her professionally speaking. It could cost lives, Melok!"

The Goblin nodded, seeming to understand where she was coming from. "I'm not making promises right this second, but I will give it serious thought. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Even setting aside her relationship with my sons, and setting aside our friendship, and setting aside what we may or may not feel beyond friendship… Cedrella, she's a Mage and I'm her Master. There is no other for either of us to turn to in those roles. Mine is a sacred duty to her, and hers is an instinctual trust in this bond between us. Could she get the proverbial facts from someone else who has studied the lore? Maybe. Would it feel right, the way it does between us? No. The bond between us is generations in the making, and not something to be tossed aside."

Cedrella sighed. "I never suggested cutting you off from one another, Melok. Yes, she's the Mage and you are her Master. I don't want to come between that. What I'm saying is that yes, she's your Mage. She is not, however, your wife. I need you to figure out how to remember the difference."

"How the hell am I to stop loving her?" he asked. "I feel like that's what you're asking of me.

She huffed. "If I knew that, I'd have opened with that, instead of saying I don't care."

The Goblin eyed her critically. "You do care, don't you?"

Cedrella rolled her eyes. "Of course I care, you dunce. I'm just trying not to care, because I can't really afford to. Nor can you. There's too much on the line to be leading with our hearts."

"I don't like it," he grumbled.

She offered him a look of tender understanding. "Nobody likes a broken heart, Melok. I fear the greater good will demand more than just yours, before the end, however."

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