Chapter Eight

Hermione was well used to there being a crowd at Black Manor, but seldom had the crowd gathered been so somber. It was unsettling, she mused, that short of the two men who hadn't been able to attend this evening, the thirty two people in attendance at present were the sum of people thus far who'd worked out she was a Mage. Granted, a large majority of them had been told, many of them family members. Eight of them were Blacks outright, not counting herself, of course. "Welcome," she greeted loudly, gaining their attention and causing the chattering to quiet. "If I could please have your attention…"

All eyes turned to her and after a pause, she continued. "Many of you are acquainted, but some of you have never had cause to meet. I trust that you understand first and foremost that regardless of what may set each of you apart, you all have a few things in common. First, you all have the common bond in knowing that I am a Mage and have earned my trust in keeping that fact in confidence. Look around you, ladies and gentlemen. The men and women in this room are those you are free to discuss that fact with should you get the overwhelming urge."

A bit of laughter moved through the crowd as she'd expected, lightening the mood a little. After it died down, she went on. "More importantly, you have in common a keen understanding that just because Grindelwald has been brought down, that does not mean darkness has been defeated. You understand that there is a new Dark Lord rising, consolidating what is left of Grindelwald's forces, and building up his power base as we speak. You understand that it is only a matter of time before it comes to war again, and have chosen to take a stand on the front lines, to be ears and eyes and intelligence for the Resistance against him. That is what we are here for. We are the Resistance. Let's open with questions. I have no doubt you have many."

Marius Black's hand shot up in the air, leaving no doubt in her mind that had he been born magical, he'd likely have gone to Ravenclaw. "Yes, Marius?" she said, pointing.

"I know I'm not the only Squib here," he said. "I know I'm only really in the know because my wife was in the know, so I guess I'm wondering what I can really be doing to be of help? What can those of us without magic be doing to be of use?"

She smiled. "Marius, I began actively fighting when I was no more than twelve years old. Yes, I had magic at my advantage, but I knew very little in the way of spell work at the time, and I was Muggleborn. At the time, I relied more on my eyes and ears and good old fashioned common sense to help the cause. I was of use in research. I was of use in being able to keep watch so those who were more magically superior could rest while things were quiet, me waking them if there was trouble. As I got older, I continued to utilize non magical skills as well. I was of use in building contacts who could be sources of information. I was of use in running errands to collect Potions ingredients so the more skilled Potions Masters didn't have to leave delicate Potions in the middle of an important brew. There are a lot of ways someone can be of use that have nothing to do with magic. It really just boils down to your willingness and your skillset. If you are skilled at cultivating sources, then I might utilize you in that manner. If you are skilled at haggling, then I might utilize you in making purchases that are typically expensive. If you are an able researcher, then I could utilize you there and you'd never see the light of day again!"

Her nephew cracked a grin. "Got it, I think I can work with that."

"Next question?" Hermione inquired, looking back at the gathered crowd.

Agatha Filch spoke up next, not raising her hand. "Watching and learning about this tosser is all well and good, Hermione, but we all know eventually it will lead to open war. That will mean battles, and our numbers are currently quite few in the grand scheme. I trust you have some consideration going into recruitment."

She let out a sigh. "I do agree recruitment needs to be a priority. Anyone already in the Resistance, do feel free to make discreet inquiries as to interest and send people to me for induction. Do not give them my name, and do not tell them I'm a Mage. Refer to me only as the Leader of the Resistance. Every Monday afternoon at three I will wait at the Hog's Head for an hour as a time and place to evaluate new recruits. Tell them they can identify themselves by telling the barman Tempus Iterum, and that the barman will direct them from there. Of course, that will be Aberforth. My only other bit of advice here is when considering recruits, please do not recruit children. By that, I do not mean that you can send them my way as soon as they come of age, or as soon as they graduate Hogwarts. I mean that if you don't think they are mature enough to take a spouse and make a life in that union, consider that they are unlikely to be mature enough to handle the emotional impact of potentially having to take a life in the course of a war. I was a child soldier. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"Time a second time," Charlus said, looking at her curiously. "What an interesting passcode."

"That would also translate to time again," Hermione pointed out, "as in it is time again to prepare for war."

Of course the passcode had double meaning for her, but she wasn't about to tell Charlus that. Cedrella was trying to hide laughter behind a cough, however, causing her to roll her eyes in annoyance. "Did you have a question, Cedrella?" she asked.

The redhead cleared her throat. "Oh, right, let's see. I know many of us have young children. I was wondering if we might be able to coordinate some sort of nursery situation, potentially with House Elves, or with those who know what's going on in the abstract way but aren't directly involved, wherein the children could easily be dropped off in an emergency, no questions asked, allowing those of us in the Resistance to come to meetings or assemble for battles, without having to worry about if our children are taken care of."

Dobby raised his hand. "Dobby is having many contacts who could be of service, Mistress."

"Anyone in particular you're thinking, Dobby?" Hermione inquired, knowing his contact with the Malfoy Elves had been severed.

"Dobby was thinking of the Magnus Elves, Mistress. So few Magnus' still be using Elves. Most of us have moved on to other families, but the bond to a Magnus would precede. Mistress Helen would only need to summon them."

Hermione's eyes flickered to Helen. "That might solve multiple problems with one stone. If Dobby can tell us what Magnus elves are with what families, we could deprive certain families we already know are serving Voldemort of Elves and bring them to us, potentially gaining not only some allies, but intelligence along with them."

"I hadn't realized I had the ability to summon the Magnus elves," Helen admitted. "I assumed I'd have required active magic for that."

"You is a Magnus," Dobby said, looking affronted. "We Elves remember!"

"Right then," Helen said, looking amused. "I can manage that, I suppose."

"Next question?" Hermione asked, turning back to the gathered crowd.

"You said something in your letter," Orion said, hand raising a bit, "about keying us into the wards here. Want to explain that a bit? Sort of thought we already were keyed in."

"Ah. Excellent question, Orion," Hermione said, summoning a leather case with a couple hundred vials of potion. "The wards to Black Manor have been upgraded. Effective tonight, I'll finish activating them and coming and going will require being keyed in via this potion…"

Sirius jumped in to help her explain. "Hermione and I had some friends a while back who warded a place similarly. Probably the best wards you can work, but they do come with a bit of embellishment. Anyone who's known me and Hermione very long may have noticed the Phoenix tattoo we both have. That's from the wards we were keyed into then. You drink this potion to key into these wards, and you will all be the proud owners of an Eihwaz rune tattoo. This will act both as a key into the wards here, and as a personal ward of protection and strength wherever you happen to be. Two birds. One bludger."

"Upside, we won't have to explain this one to Mother," Callidora whispered to Cedrella.

"Callie!" Charis chastised, as if she was speaking ill of the dead.

Hermione forced herself not to smile as she saw Minerva bite her lip in an effort not to laugh at the antics of the three sisters. "I spelled the tattoo to appear flesh tone, or close to it. It will likely be mistaken as a scar by most, so those who notice it won't ask too many questions."

"That's not stupid," Druella admitted. "Merlin knows my parents would hardly have approved of such nonsense."

"I know full well that socially speaking tattoos are hardly well thought of," Hermione admitted. "However it is a very simple way for people in the Resistance to be able to identify one another. The way the spellwork overlays, even if someone stole some of your hair and Polyjuiced to look like you, the tattoo would not transfer along, so they'd still not be able to get through the wards, nor would they be able to show the tattoo to a fellow Resistance member and trick them into thinking they were who they were falsely claiming to be. This warding is for everyone's safety. Those of you who are Blacks, I'd appreciate your help getting everyone else in the family to key in. Those unwilling will not be able to attend family functions here at Black Manor. If too many are unwilling, we may need to consider opening another property for family functions, but I'd really rather we just get everyone in the family keyed in so that when the war does get bad, we have a safe place to evacuate everyone."

"Is the potion safe for children?" Dorea Potter asked.

"Completely safe," Hermione assured her. "Speaking of children, before we close for the evening, Cygnus and Druella, I'd like a private word regarding your girls."

"Of course, Aunt Hermione," Cygnus said with an easy nod.

"Next?" she asked, turning back to the group again.

Angus Steward spoke up next. "Are we just recruiting locally, or…"

She shook her head. "By all means, if you have contacts in France, Russia, Africa, Asia, America, or wherever else, who feel like they have something to offer the Resistance, I'd love to speak with them. The last thing I want is to be the last to know Voldemort has been actively trying to gain a foothold in France, simply because we were too shortsighted to have cultivated agents of our own there. While I do believe the fight will be primarily here in the United Kingdom, that does not mean we should not stay on our toes and keep ears and eyes elsewhere, too."

Poppy raised her hand next. "While it is admirable that you do not wish to recruit children, I hardly think Voldemort will be as genial as all that. What do I need to be looking for, at Hogwarts? What do Minerva, Agatha and I all need to be looking for, as far as teenagers who have likely been recruited by Voldemort?"

Hermione sighed. "Mostly, just report suspicious activity and we'll launch individual investigations from there. I don't want to jump to conclusions with these children. You're not wrong about Voldemort recruiting there though Poppy. Honestly, you, Minerva, and Agatha should probably go ahead and start laying seeds to recruit other Hogwarts staff. Not Albus though. If he joins the Resistance, it needs to be because he learned of us indirectly and came to me."

"Why?" Minerva inquired.

"I have my reasons, Minerva," she said sharply. "My relationship with Albus is complicated to say the least. I ask that you trust me on this."

The Scottish Witch considered her for a moment, and finally nodded in acceptance. Hermione wondered if she might have fought the issue had they not shagged only a few weeks ago. It crossed her mind that given said recent shagging, it was probably about time she stopped treating Minerva like a bloody student all the time. Regardless of if it ever happened again, they were lovers now, and in most ways equals. She couldn't continue looking at Minerva like a subordinate, and snapping orders like she just had.

She resolved to apologize to Minerva later.

The meeting went on for another hour, potions were handed out, and then most of the crowd left, leaving only the core group behind to discuss a few more things. Hermione, Sirius, Melok, Aberforth, Cedrella, Helen, and James gathered in the den as the hour grew late, sharing drinks and discussing some of the finer points that had been brought up that evening.

"I wish we could just do in the bugger now," Cedrella seethed. The more she drank the more angry she grew, her parents' deaths still clinging to her.

"The Ministry hasn't even acknowledged Voldemort as a threat, Cedrella," Sirius pointed out. "Anyone who actually took him down now would be tried and convicted of murder. The obnoxious part is that the twat already has at least one or two Horcruxes, so he'd just come back anyway, which makes it an effort in futility. We don't have enough information to go after him at this juncture."

"I said I wish, not that I was a dunderhead," their niece said pointedly, glass of firewhisky pausing in front of her face. "Merlin, Uncle Sirius, don't be daft."

"Might be worth considering the option of planting a spy," James said thoughtfully. "The Death Eaters are doing a great deal of damage with all these hit and run operations. If we had forward notice of those attacks, we could save a great many lives. Even if we didn't stop the attacks, we could position strong fighters in the right locations, and Voldemort would just think it bad luck that those under attack were able to hold their own until Aurors arrived."

"As much as I'd like to save lives, James," Hermione replied with a heavy sigh, "and as much as I'd love the intelligence to do that, I am not going to authorize outright espionage. I had to watch what that life did to Severus in one reality. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. If we're going to get information, we'll get it the old fashioned way - through careful study and eavesdropping. If anything I'd be inclined to train a few more Animagi and hope somebody comes into a form more stealthy than mine or Sirius'. I'd give good Galleons for a rat or a beetle."

Sirius, who'd just taken a sip of his drink, spit the liquor out and laughed.

"I'll assume an inside joke," Helen mused.

"Peter was a rat. Half of what we got away with at school was because of his form," Sirius explained. "There was a reporter that gave Hermione and Harry some trouble in Alpha, called Rita, who was a Beetle. She'd use her form to hide in plain sight and overhear private information, and use it to break news on scandalous stories. Complete bitch. Still, gotta give her credit for being clever."

"You could probably talk Minerva into training some of the group in Animagus studies," Melok said pointedly. "I'd be willing to bet that Orion wouldn't take much training to get there. He and Minerva seem fairly close already."

"Don't tell Walburga," Cedrella smirked.

"Oh, gross, can we not?" Sirius gagged. "Minerva has way better taste than that."

"Does she?" their niece teased.

"In any case," Hermione said, rolling her eyes at the way Cedrella was baiting her Uncle, "if there's any good news to be had, Agatha said that Albus has had basically no success in recruiting for the Order. Aberforth, you were able to confirm that."

"Yes," the younger of the Dumbledore brothers said with a nod. "He's frustrated beyond words."

"I'm not surprised," she replied. "It wasn't until the late sixties before he got the Order off the ground in Alpha, although by then he was able to find more than a few ready recruits. Our goal should be to beat him to key members. I've speculated that many of the original members of the Order only joined because friends joined, and so if we snag those key people early on, their friends won't even consider joining Albus' Order if their friends are already with the Resistance. We just have to accurately guess who those key people are."

"Shouldn't be that difficult," James supposed.

"I wasn't there, James!" Hermione griped. "I have to base my calculations off of Sirius' shoddy memory of who the cool kids were!"

Sirius shrugged. "Yes, well…"

"Cool kids?" Helen said, shuddering a little. "Is that actually a common phrasing for the popular in the larger group in your generation, Hermione? Good Lord."

"I wasn't gonna say it," Aberforth grunted.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "In my defense, I rarely used it."

"Not to worry," James said, smirking a little, "she'll spend too many years with us old folks. Any irregularities to her vocabulary should be weeded out, root and stem, by the time she makes it back to the nineties. Good riddance, I say!"

"I don't know," Sirius admitted, "I sort of liked it when she was far more prone to say fuck. You lot are beating the habit out of her. You're turning my wife into a proper lady. For shame!"

"We're turning you into a proper gentleman," Melok mused. "Thank the Gods!"

"He really was rather crass when they first arrived, wasn't he, Melok?" James mused. "The old dog's come a long way."

"The old dog is sitting right here, you tossers!" her husband grumbled. "As for my evolution into a gentleman, that's mostly your fault, Watson. Did you swallow a Thesaurus in utero or something?"

Helen choked on her laughter. "Bloody hell, Sirius. He does sound a bit like he did, doesn't it?"

"Don't be such children about it," James said, rolling his eyes. "Speaking of children, Hermione, what was it that you were talking to Cygnus and Druella about, right before they left?"

"Oh," she said, sighing a little. "In Beta we learned that Narcissa is a natural Legilimens. Had I said something to them about it too soon, it would have been suspicious, but at this point we've watched the girls enough that, given both Sirius and I are known in the family to be Occlumens, it would be reasonable for them to conclude our background on the subject is why we would pick up on the trait in their daughter. I was talking to them about it, and recommending that they begin training Cissa, Andromeda, and Bella in Occlumency immediately, and get that training themselves, and to only allow people who are proficient in Occlumency around Narcissa until she is older and more able to protect her mind. Otherwise, her innocence is all but forfeit. At this age, she'd have no control over what to read and what not to read."

"Merlin," Aberforth breathed. "A natural Legilimens is incredibly rare. Maybe even more rare than a Mage."

"I told them to reach out to the Scamanders," Hermione admitted. "I haven't had the pleasure, but in conversations with Newt and Tina it came up that Tina's sister is a natural Legilimens. She'd know what works and what doesn't as far as training, and I imagine she'd be happy to mentor a girl like herself. At the least, Tina likely remembers what it was like for her sister, and may have some pointers she could offer."

Just then, Dobby popped back in. "Mistress Helen, Mister Biggy is saying that there is being a problem with the Mollox that cames in last night. He is thinking she is nearing her time."

"Oh, bloody hell!" Helen said, putting her drink down and standing. "Sorry you lot, I'm off. I've seen a number of these creatures in the wild, but we've not been able to chart their gestation cycle with any accuracy, so it was anyone's guess how close to term she was. I'd have left her in the wild if not for her injuries."

"You need a hand, Helen?" James inquired.

"If you don't mind, James, that would be lovely," she said, smiling softly at her London counterpart. "Mollox litters, from what we've recorded, can be as large as six to eight. That's unusually large for…"

"For a primate species," he agreed. "Yes indeed, it is. Ta, everyone. Hermione, I trust you'll let us know if you need anything of us."

"Of course," Hermione replied. "Best of luck with the Mollux. Let us know how it all goes."

With that, Dobby took James and Helen in hand, and a moment later, he was gone, Hermione having keyed him into the wards in a special way that allowed him to transport from within the wards, whereas none of them, even her, would be able to. She'd wanted that available for emergency situations, although convenience didn't hurt either.

"I best be off as well," Aberforth admitted. "Pub won't open itself in the morning, you know."

"Nor will breakfast cook itself for my sons," Cedrella said pointedly, standing at the same time Aberforth did.

"I guess it's just time to call it a night," Sirius mused, also getting up, flicking his wand and clearing the mess from their drinks.

Melok turned to Hermione. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like a private word with you before we take off."

Hermione nodded, then turned back to her husband. "I'll meet you back at Grimmauld," she said softly. "I shouldn't be long."

That being said, Sirius, Cedrella, and Aberforth all left the room, leaving Hermione alone with Melok. They both sat down again, and she gave him her full attention. What came out of his mouth next was the last thing she ever expected to hear him say.

"Can you keep the boys with you at Grimmauld for a while?" he asked.

Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"I believe there is a very real possibility that there are untapped resources, both in regard to information and potential allies, waiting to be found at the various Gringotts' around the world. Paris, Beijing, Rome, St. Petersburg, Varna, Brisbane, Cairo, Cape Town, and so forth. The wealth of information in the Catacombs of those banks is only accessible to a Goblin…"

"Catacombs!" Hermione exclaimed. "Merlin, Melok, are you trying to get yourself killed?"

He snorted. "Hardly. If I'm going in on official business, a Goblin by myself without human companionship, it won't trigger the traps you've described as experiencing during your trip through the London Catacombs in Beta. I'll be there doing research. Likely, each Gringotts will assign me a guard of half a dozen security Goblins to watch over me, both as safety in case a trap were accidentally tripped, and to ensure I'm not doing anything other than what I say I'm doing, which I won't be."

"You're sure you'd be safe?" she asked.

"As safe as I'd imagine you will be while I'm gone and you're routinely poking at Dark Lords," he fussed. "Likely safer. I just couldn't take the boys with me, nor would I wish to deprive them of you for that long."

"But you'd deprive them of you for that long?" she seethed. "I'm just their Godmother, Melok. You're their Father, for fuck's sake! How long are you talking about being gone?"

"A few months, likely," he replied. "And it is because I'm their Father that I feel I must do this. Bringing Voldemort down is essential to their futures. He rules, they don't have much of a future. Caelum especially. We both know Voldemort would have little tolerance for a half Goblin boy! We are both doing what we must to ensure they have a future worth having! I am doing this, Hermione, I am merely asking if you are willing to care for your Godsons while I am gone, or if I need to make other arrangements."

She felt like she'd been punched in the gut, and in a way she had. It had been a long time since she'd felt well and truly backed into a corner and without any option but to accept what was being asked of her. Melok knew damn well she wouldn't toss the boys off on anyone else, which meant she had to say she'd take them. She knew him well enough to know he was convicted in what he meant to do, and would go whether she liked it or not.

Hermione hated the fact that she was more upset about not seeing him for months on end than she was about the sheer inconvenience of having Filius and Caelum underfoot during that time. Merlin knew she loved the boys, but they were a handful and a half, and she had responsibilities outside of them. "You know I'll take them," she said softly.

"Good," he said with a firm nod.

"Just… Melok, it's nearly Christmas," she added after a pause. "Don't miss Christmas with the boys. Wait until the New Year to go. Please."

"Alright," he replied calmly.

She expected some tenderness. He usually showed some affection when they disagreed. Sometimes, they even kissed if it was especially bad. No, they couldn't be together, but there were moments in their relationship where emotion got the better of them and a line was tread upon. This was one of those moments and she expected him to move toward her as he so often did; as she wanted him to do.

To Hermione's surprise, Melok did the complete opposite. He offered a curt nod, stood, and moved to walk out the door. "I'll talk to you in a few days," he said. "We'll sort out the details of this then. Goodnight, Hermione."

Then, he was gone, and she just sat there silently for a few minutes, trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened. She may have suspected Polyjuice if not for the fact that Polyjuice didn't work for Goblins, which almost made her more concerned. Logic supposed the man she was just speaking with was Melok, but that was not how Melok treated her, and as such she felt like she'd just had a conversation with an impostor, somehow. That had not seemed, in the slightest, like her hus -

Hermione's heart clenched as she realized what she had just thought. Husband. She had just thought of Melok as her husband. Gods. It wasn't as if she didn't know full well she was in love with him. It wasn't as if she hadn't gone to bed with him that one night, even if it had been years now. It was just that the way they behaved around each other, the life they'd built around each other, had come to feel so normal to Hermione that she hadn't stopped to consider if it should feel normal, or if it was right for it to feel normal.

She hadn't realized, until this very moment, she'd been acting, and perhaps even feeling, as if Melok was just as much her husband as Sirius was. How the hell had she begun to live a double life without even realizing it?

It was understandable now, she saw, why Melok was behaving as he was. He knew full well he was the other man, and was trying to set boundaries between them. He knew that habits were hard to break when you were neck deep in the face of your proverbial addiction, so he was trying to walk away from her until he could learn to be alright without her in the center of his life. His choice to leave Filius and Caelum in her care was likely because he knew if he broke the habit of her with the boys in tow, he may never bring himself to see her again, and that wasn't going to work for them in the long haul.

He was her Master. She was his Mage. Further, somehow, they had two children together, and the boys were old enough at this point that undoing that would be something of a challenge. They couldn't just not be around each other. They could, however, step back and learn healthier boundaries. If that was what Melok needed, then Hermione resolved to give it to him.

Even if it hurt like hell.

Hermione sighed and went out to the main foyer, Flooing directly to the Hog's Head, unsurprised to see Aberforth still at the bar, setting a few things up for opening tomorrow. "Hermione?" he greeted. "Did I, or did I not just see you?"

"Sirius banished the liquor back to Grimmauld," she complained. "Pour."

The barkeep sighed heavily. "What did Melok do now?"

"He's leaving the boys in my care for a few months while he scuttles off to explore the Goblin Libraries for information that might be helpful to the cause," she spat, slamming back the first shot of vodka he poured. "Oh, that's smooth. Another."

Aberforth poured. "And of course, you rather astutely recognized that his decision to do this in an extended leave rather than in short trips spread out over a longer period is directly related to his desire to distance himself from you?"

"Pretty much," she reported, swallowing the second shot. "Keep pouring."

"I swear to Merlin, you're perfect for each other," the barkeep decided. "This is the last one, woman. You have to go home to Sirius eventually, and he'll want an explanation if you show up completely smashed."

"I can hold my liquor," she insisted.

"Nobody can hold a full bottle of Vodka, and you and Minerva were being all manner of competitive with the low quality shite Sirius brought earlier. I'm impressed you aren't already slurring your words."

"As I said, I can hold my liquor," Hermione declared.

"Either you're a former drunk or you used to know one," he accused. "Only people I know who can hold their liquor that well are one of the two."

"Harry," she admitted after a pause. "Harry, in Alpha, had a drinking problem after the war. There was a point when getting him to go home was only doable if you drank him under the table first. Granted, he was drunk when I got there half the time, so it sometimes only took five or six shots for each of us before he was down, but eventually my resistance was ridiculously high."

"But you never had a problem yourself?" Aberforth asked.

She looked at him thoughtfully. "For me, going to a bar is more about finding someone to talk to about what's going on. It was never about the alcohol. I don't dislike drinking, but if left home alone, I have no real desire to drink. I don't drink for the taste, I don't drink to get drunk. I drink for the social aspect, and occasionally I drink to get a little relaxed. I don't really have the makings of an alcoholic, though."

"Considering the kind of power you have at your fingertips, Hermione," the younger of the Dumbledore brothers mused, "I'm honestly rather glad of that."

Hermione tapped her glass. "For that bit of sass, Jiminy, you owe me one more shot."

Aberforth groaned, and poured her one more measure of Vodka. "That's not my name, Hermione!"

"Whatever you say, Jiminy," she smirked.

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