Chapter Nineteen

Hermione was well used to Melok showing up at Grimmauld Place unannounced, although he usually came by Floo rather than to the front door. She was not, however, used to him coming with Albus Dumbledore. That, she had to admit, was unexpected to say the least, although considering it was a mere week after Minerva had given birth to her son, she was immediately concerned. "Melok," she greeted with a frown. "Albus. Is all well with Minerva and the baby?"

Melok looked a bit apologetic, as if he'd not anticipated how his arrival in this man's company might appear to her. "Minerva is quite fine, Hermione," he assured her quickly. "We come, rather, in regard to your skills with warding."

Albus was eyeing her with deep curiosity. "Yes, Lady Black. I was contacted by the Ministry about a particularly sensitive problem and a need for a warder with skills rivaling what the Unspeakables could offer. Naturally, the Ministry contacted the Goblins, as they generally do in such a situation. I was rather surprised that when I was referred to Melok, he insisted that the person who I needed to speak with was not a Goblin, but in fact you."

She glared at Melok. "I do hope this is worth tipping my hand to him for."

He just smiled at her. "I haven't tipped it entirely, my dear. Your skill with warding is merely one card of many."

They both pointedly ignored Albus' look of extreme curiosity at that comment. Hermione sighed. "Very well. What's the problem then?"

"An attack on the Queen," Albus replied, voice grave. "The Aurors have already confirmed it was magical in origin, and while the Ministry is unwilling to attribute it to Voldemort's Death Eaters officially speaking, you and I both know better. Her Majesty, of course, has always had her residences warded, but the attack breached those defenses yesterday evening, and as such Protection Command is keen to get this sorted sooner rather than later. They know full well there is little they could do if there was another attack of this nature."

She was dumbfounded. "The Queen? As in… the Queen?"

"Lovely girl," he said with a nod. "She's anxious to meet you."

"The bloody Queen of England wants to meet me?" Hermione asked, damn near stupefied.

Melok patted her arm. "Mostly, I think she just wants you to fix her wards. That said, she's nice enough for a Muggle. Albus has met her a number of times, given his role on the Wizengamot. I've met her as well, although we correspond more often than see one another. You didn't honestly think that the Queen of England didn't know about our world, did you?"

"I suppose I just figured the Statute of Secrecy applied across the board, regardless of station," she admitted in a dazed voice. "Bloody hell. How has this not come up before?"

"Most major world leaders are aware of the Wizarding world," Albus revealed. "It's necessary in times of crisis to coordinate cover stories or man hunts and other such things."

Hermione suddenly recalled seeing, on the television the summer between second and third year, all about the escaped criminal called Sirius Black. It hadn't meant anything to her at the time, although she did remember thinking later that it was strange to have seen a Wizard being talked about on the Muggle news. This must have been something coordinated with the Muggle Ministry, in Alpha. The evidence had been there; she'd just been too thick to see it. "Right then, how do we get there?"

"Well, I'm to escort you, as I'm already familiar with her Majesty," Albus replied. "Melok simply insisted on escorting me this far, although I'm not sure why that was necessary. I could have come by on my own."

She snorted. "Trust me, Albus, it was better he came. I'd not have agreed to go with you if he hadn't. I'd rather he was going with us to see the Queen."

"Sorry Hermione," Melok said with a smirk. "Far too many Muggles about. I don't think a Goblin in Buckingham Palace is going to go over very well. As for why it hasn't come up, I'm afraid the subject is need to know, and up 'til now, you didn't need to know."

With a heavy sigh, Hermione stepped out her front door and warded it behind her, following Albus and Melok into the street ahead, pausing only to press a kiss to Melok's cheek, and then trusting the Goblin to find his own means home, she turned to the elder of the Dumbledore brothers and offered her arm. "Whenever you're ready."

"I did not realize you and Melok were quite so close," Albus commented after Melok was down the street, but before apparating.

Hermione decided to pity the Hogwarts Professor, and actually give him a bit of information. "I'm Godmother to his sons, and given the loss of his wife, that means I spend a great deal of time in the company of both him and the boys. I'll certainly never replace Genia Flitwick, but I'm the only mother Filius and Caelum can recall. So yes, Albus, Melok and I are fairly close."

He seemed to take her confession in with a look of deep curiosity, making no comment before he gripped her hand and then stepped forward, apparating. A moment later, the pair were standing in an ornate room, presumably somewhere inside Buckingham Palace. She was still trying to take in the sights when a soft, feminine voice caused her to turn around.

"I think I'm finally getting used to your sort just appearing out of thin air," she said. "You arrived quicker than I anticipated. It's good to see you, Albus."

"Your Majesty," Albus greeted, offering a little bow. "May I present Lady Hermione Black?"

Hermione curtsied, well used to doing so by now. "Your Majesty," she offered. "I understand you require some advanced warding."

The Queen eyed her seriously for a moment, saying nothing, before her gaze flickered back to Albus and she addressed him again. "Albus my dear, how about you toddle off and find Philip? I know he's dying to catch up. I believe he's in the Library."

Albus clearly knew dismissal when he heard it, and after offering a curt nod he turned and left. Hermione realized, in an abstract way, that she was in the presence of the Queen of England, but she couldn't help the way her eyebrow raised in curiosity, nor the words that tumbled out of her mouth. "So few can order that man about."

The young Queen offered a mischievous smile. "According to Melok, you are one of the few, Lady Black."

"Do feel free to call me by my given name, your Majesty," she offered. "I admit to an immediate fondness toward a woman who has the favor of one of my closest friends."

She nodded. "Elizabeth, then, although not in front of my staff or I'm certain they'll stroke out. I have so few people in my life to whom I can even dare suggest a sense of equality might exist between us, but I believe you might qualify. Aside from your unique position professionally speaking, your husband is a Lord, both in your world and ours. You are part of the upper echelon, between your place as a Mage and as a Lady."

Hermione laughed. "Not bad for the daughter of two dentists. I was Muggleborn."

"You know," Elizabeth said, raising her eyebrow at the information the Witch offered regarding her background, and waving for Hermione to join her as she started pouring tea for them, "Melok didn't say outright, but I am correct in surmising that you are a Mage, yes?"

"When you first said, I'd assumed Melok had told you. An impressive deduction," Hermione muttered with a frown. "One I'd appreciate you not sharing with Albus."

The Queen nodded. "I'm a Muggle, not a moron. I could tell by how guarded Melok was being in regard to how one woman might have skills far above an entire division at your Ministry that whatever your story, it was one you wanted kept quiet. It wasn't until after I'd begun to suspect you were a Mage that I learned there'd already been a Mage born in the last generation, some twenty years ago called Jackson, although he didn't live past his thirteenth birthday. It's unusual, according to the lore, for another one to be born so soon. If I were a betting woman, I'd assume that Jackson's existence is why Albus doesn't already suspect you're a Mage."

"That's my theory as well," Hermione admitted. "I'm inclined to let him keep thinking that for as long as possible, to be perfectly honest. I don't mind using his narrow mindedness to my own advantage, just as I don't mind using my skills to assist those who need and deserve the help. Albus has good intentions most of the time, and there are many great things to say about his character, however…"

"When given true power, he tends to abuse it?" Elizabeth guessed.

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"He and Philip are not dissimilar in that regard," she admitted softly. "That's not proper for me to say, but it's the truth. It is a good thing, for England, that I am Queen and he is merely Prince. Those who want power should never have it. I think you understand this better than most."

"I understand it very well, Elizabeth," Hermione said in agreement, surprising herself with how easily the name came out of her mouth without the title. "The true test of having power, I believe, is if you yearn to hold it or merely yearn to be a good steward of it while it's yours. When Albus met this challenge, in my opinion, he could have done better. It's my hope that in not allowing him to see my power for what it is, I both remove temptation from his path and eventually teach him some humility when he realizes that he never had nearly the control of the situation he thought he did."

"The long game," the Queen surmised. "I take it you're a chess player."

"By necessity more than joy," she replied.

"What about warding?" came the next question. "Is that a skill of necessity, or joy?"

"That one is pure joy," Hermione mused, thinking of her earliest attempts at bringing down and building wards, and the rush of the magic involved. No matter what magic she ever did in her life, she thought she'd probably still love warding the most. She imagined Melok would say that was the Goblin blood in her and at this point, she wasn't certain she'd argue with him.

Aberforth looked up and saw his brother enter his pub, chuckling a little at the timing. Hermione's Patronus, warning him this was likely to happen, had just come and gone, not ten minutes prior. Albus was, if nothing else, predictable.

"Aberforth!" came an unusually cheerful greeting.

"No," the younger Dumbledore stated firmly, pulling a bottle of Whiskey down from a shelf and letting it slam onto the bar with a clunk, grabbing a clean glass from under the counter so he could pour himself a drink. Gods knew he needed it when dealing with Albus' machinations.

"I haven't even asked for anything yet," Albus replied dryly.

"You greeted me in a friendly tone," Aberforth responded, "which implies you want something that I am ill equipped, ill prepared, or just disinclined to give you."

"It's nothing dramatic," he was assured. "I was just wondering if you might have some insight on Hermione Black. I know you see the Blacks socially on occasion, after all."

Under normal circumstances, he'd be telling his brother to bugger off about now, but Hermione had requested that he give Albus something to chew on. In fact, he was supposed to give him a specific something to chew on. That of course meant he had to lead Albus to it through a maze, or his conniving brother would assume he was being fed misdirection. He had to believe he'd whittled it out of Aberforth in order for the ruse to work. As such, Aberforth sighed and resigned himself to the task at hand. He was a Slytherin. He could manage. "What about her?" he asked irritably.

"I learned recently that she has extraordinary warding skills," Albus confided. "Above and beyond even what the Unspeakables at the Ministry are capable of. One woman, Aberforth. A woman who, by the way, has a Mastery in Potions, not one in Defense. I might find it less curious if her Mastery was in Defense, or possibly even if it was in Charms, but Potions? There's no real connection."

That was true, Aberforth admitted to himself. There was basically squat you could do for protecting a property with potions alone. You could enhance certain wards with potions poured over ward stones, but by themselves potions were more or less useless in warding. He considered his response, mentally running over the cover story that was generally known to the public, and that Albus was likely already aware of. "The Blacks spent two years as guests of Gellert's men. I imagine they both picked up some useful skills during that mess. From what I heard, after they were left for dead, they had to systematically break down the wards from the inside. Not that I know from experience, but I imagine you'd learn a lot about wards if you were trying to escape them."

"If that was true, then why would Melok not have referred me to Sirius and Hermione," Albus speculated. "Surely they'd both have learned a skill if they both had the opportunity to do so, and Melok specifically insisted it was Hermione Black to whom I should be speaking when I came looking for a warding expert."

"Oh, so it was Melok who set you on Hermione?" Aberforth asked. "That makes sense."

He knew this, obviously, but it was a lead that his brother could follow. It was a tease that Albus would almost certainly go after like a Niffler after gold.

"Why does that make sense?" Albus asked, leaning forward and attempting, badly, to look casual about it.

Niffler. Gold.

Aberforth raised an eyebrow. "Really not your business."

"Oh, come on!" his brother snapped, losing his temper and smacking his hand on the bar in frustration. "Give me something here!"

It took every ounce of Aberforth's self control not to look smug at that moment. He'd needed to get Albus to lose his temper so he could lose his own in response. The only way Albus would believe the information he was being given was if it was given under duress, or at least, it appeared to be. So, rather than looking smug, he snapped right back. "Bloody hell, Albus, just stop and consider that she's raising two boys with a damn Goblin! Coincidence? No more than her wand core is, I think."

His brother blinked, and then smiled. "She has Goblin blood," Albus concluded, not doubting it in the slightest.

Aberforth took a sip of his whiskey and then offered a curt nod of confirmation, before going a step further to feed the validity of the conclusion. "She can hear a ward's harmonic, not just feel it like most of us. I've seen her dismantle wards in ten minutes that took five professionals ten hours to get in place. She's quite a wonder in that regard."

"If she's so gifted in that manner, why in Merlin's name did she not get her Mastery in Defense?" Albus inquired, frowning. "Why Potions?"

It still absolutely boggled him that Albus had never asked who she got her Potions Mastery under when he knew full well his brother was a Potions Grandmaster. In fairness, he also knew Aberforth rarely took on students. In regard to his brother's query, he answered the question with another question. "Don't you think she's seen enough war?"

The elder of the pair nodded in understanding, seeming to accept, in principle, that somebody who had spent time running for their life as a child soldier might be disinclined to study a discipline that was focused around dueling and other defenses against the dark arts. "Thank you, Aberforth."

With that, Albus was out the door again, leaving him to his whiskey, which he topped off in self congratulations. After he was certain Albus was gone, he shot off a Patronus to Hermione. "The prat took the bait," he said. "Tell Melok that next time he cleans up his own mess."

Sirius could tell that his wife was deep in thought by the way she was rapidly tapping her quill on the tabletop as they sat together, just finishing up supper. "What, Hermione?" he asked, exasperated.

She sighed. "Do you suppose we have the political clout to start a school?"

He balked. "Uh, well, I mean I'm not sure there's really a need, love. Hogwarts has more than enough room."

"I was thinking more of a Preparatory Academy," she explained patiently. "It would be a day school that students, Muggleborn and otherwise, would attend the year prior to coming to Hogwarts. Unlike at Hogwarts, there would be no sorting into Houses and all that rot. If we needed to break students into smaller classes, we'd do so on a rotation so that all students had the opportunity to meet one another on even ground. It would be a transitional period between not attending magical school at all, and attending magical school full time, just for one year, and in the same stroke, force students from all backgrounds to interact with one another without House affiliations getting in the way of them forging friendships."

Sirius looked at Hermione thoughtfully, considering her proposal. "The biggest hurdle I'm seeing offhand is that we'd need to get the Wizengamot to agree to allowing students to get wands a year earlier, which will be tough if you mean not to board them. They tend not to like kids to have free rein with wands at home until they've learned a bit."

"So we have them store their wands at the school," Hermione suggested. "That's not high level Arithmancy."

"Okay, what about transportation?" he asked, considering what he knew the next big issue would be in the Wizengamot's mind. "How do we get the students to and from this Academy of yours every day, especially considering that the Muggleborns won't have parents who can apparate, and even some of the children with Wizarding parents will live far enough away that Apparating would be a strain."

"We can have a Floo at the school," she reasoned, "and as part of the startup cost of the school, we can set up a network of Floo stations all over that make it reasonable for most people to either apparate or drive to those locations. For those out of range of those stations, we could get Portkeys authorized. There's also the option of coming up with our own version of the Knight Bus. Ideally one that isn't so bloody traumatizing to ride."

"I think a Knight Bus variant is more reasonable than Portkeys, especially if we're talking about Muggleborn students," Sirius admitted. "Some Wizarding adults have trouble with Portkeys. I hate to think what it's like for a Muggle. I'm assuming you've already plotted out a location for this school…"

"I figure London, or a bit north of London, would be most central," she admitted. "Finding a building large enough might be tricky in the city, but not impossible. We know how many students enroll on average each year to Hogwarts, so it's not going to be hard to calculate how large our student body would be each year, and unlike Hogwarts, we'll only be dealing with a single age bracket, as when one group graduated and moved on, we'd be getting a fresh group the following year. Our student body would likely average no higher than forty students. That's a large class, but not unmanageable."

"The Ministry won't go for this just on the basis of wanting to encourage integration," Sirius said, wishing otherwise but knowing it was true. "Have you got other reasons to justify the project?"

"Tons!" his wife exclaimed. "When I was a First year, I knew a lot of students, from every background, who struggled with penmanship, and were penalized on homework for it. Severus gave many of us hell for not knowing a lot of very basic things regarding the preparation of Potions ingredients, and while perhaps that was just him being a bad teacher, there's nothing to say there aren't certain things that are taken for granted as common knowledge on either side of the divide - Wizard or Muggleborn - which children should be educated on. Wizarding children should go to Hogwarts with a basic understanding of reading, writing, and arithmetic, and as things stand our people home educate to the best of their ability but not everyone can afford private tutors, and there is no standard of what should be known by the time the children go to Hogwarts. I remember poor Neville getting docked so many points on essays simply because he used commas like they were his favorite bloody candy! On the flip side, Muggleborns go to Hogwarts with no concept of Wizarding customs or what are common dangers in the Wizarding world. I remember Colin Creevy, one year, wandered to the edge of the Forbidden Forest and touched a Felrobur weed…"

Sirius winced. "Ouch."

"Exactly!" she exclaimed. "It looks like a bloody dandelion except for the shape of the stem. Every Wizarding child knows better than to touch Felrobur. They know it's poisonous, and they know if left untreated it can be deadly. Colin was Muggleborn and thought he had Poison Ivy. He waited three damn days before going to see Poppy. He nearly died! It's things like that, Sirius, that make me feel like it is vital to start a Preparatory Academy, because Muggleborns shouldn't go to Hogwarts without knowledge of things like that, or of how to use a Quill properly, and Wizard born children shouldn't go to Hogwarts without knowing how to write an essay properly, or how to use the Tube!"

He frowned. "I'm on board with this, although I think the school should also facilitate a summer program for Hogwarts graduates. It doesn't need to be the whole summer. Maybe just a few weeks. You talk about the dangers of the Wizarding world, and you're not wrong on that count, but there are dangers in the Muggle one too, and most of the ones that come to mind aren't appropriate for ten year olds to hear about. I'd want a program where we'd be teaching the recently of age students about date rape drugs, both Wizarding and Muggle. Driving lessons for Wizard born kids if they want them. Finance lessons, both sides, with an understanding of conversion rates between Galleons and Pounds. I'm sure I could think of other things."

"It would be hard to make it mandatory if they'd already graduated," Hermione mused. "Perhaps we could work with the Hogwarts Board of Governors to make it a Seventh Year, second term, mandatory class. We could either have the students Floo to our facility, or we could simply have our instructors Floo to Hogwarts for the class once a week. It would still be under our banner, but…"

Sirius nodded. "Either way I think we'll be the most successful if we work with the Hogwarts staff on this. I mean, if we plan to do an introduction to Potions and show ten year olds how to prepare ingredients, it's a waste of our time and the Professor at Hogwarts' time if they're already planning on doing the same thing for the first four weeks of first year. We can't assume the worst of them. We'll need to talk to each Professor and ask what will help them the most if we prepare these kids ahead with certain knowledge so they can dig right in with lessons."

Hermione grumbled, deflating as she spoke. "So in other words, I'm going to have to work with Albus?"

He smirked. "Well, if we do this sooner rather than later, you'll have to work with Dippet. Given that Minerva does the lessons for the early years, it would be her that you'd want to talk to regarding prepping the Transfiguration students. You might be able to pull off avoiding Albus, at least mostly."

She let out a resigned sigh. "Start talking to who needs to be talked to at the Ministry. I'll start looking at properties and drawing up plans for a basic curriculum. I'm prepared to get this thing started, but I'm certainly not going to be teaching or heading it up. I feel like there's a need and I'll sit on the Board, but…"

"Yeah," Sirius grumbled, "I figured that would be the case. Who are you thinking for Head?"

Hermione's lips curled up in that way that always concerned Sirius deeply. "I wonder if I can talk Angus into it…"

He laughed. "That might actually sell the Wizengamot, considering who he is."

His wife smirked. "My thoughts exactly. Who wouldn't want to authorize the formation of a school to be Headed by a descendant of one of the Founders of Ilvermorny? Can you imagine the headline in the Prophet?"

Just then, the Floo came to life, causing them to pause their conversation. There were a good many people who had direct access to Grimmauld Place, who could come by without having to request the wards be brought down for them before just barging in, but most of them were family members. This was no exception, technically, although it was not someone Sirius had expected to show up.

"Constance!" Hermione greeted, smiling widely as she stood and pulled the older woman into a warm hug. "We were just finishing up supper. Have a seat?"

"Sorry to barge in, you two," Constance said, taking a chair beside Hermione, "however we have that meeting with the rest of the so-called circle of trust next week and quite frankly, I feel ill prepared. I had some time this evening and was wondering if you might indulge me in a bit of time and dimensional travel course."

Hermione smirked. "Were you more interested in scientific theory, or in our experiences?"

"I'm sure the theory is fascinating, Hermione, however at present I am more inclined to hear about your experiences," Constance replied, raising an eyebrow in the exact same manner Hermione did, that Sirius actually found kind of creepy. For the first time since he'd met this woman, he was dead certain the two of them were related, even if he had been told it was a fact.

Granted, while he'd met Constance Dagworth several times thus far, it had only been at some of the family bashes and in passing, as he was always so occupied then. She'd also come to the last big Resistance meeting, but again, there was shite going on and he'd not had a real chance to talk to her, or even study her very closely. This was actually the closest he'd been to her person for more than two minutes at a time.

"Well we never met you, in Alpha or Beta," he commented. "So that's a starting point. No idea what happened to you."

Hermione frowned. "All I knew of your family in Alpha was that I was asked by Horace Slughorn at one point if I was related to the Dagworth-Grangers, referencing Hector. As I've told you, I denied the relationship, not knowing better. He didn't give me indication on Hector being living or dead, or if he was the last in his family or one of many still around. The war was devastating though, for two generations. By the time I was asked that question, the second war had already begun to pick up. People were already disappearing."

Constance waved her hand dismissively. Sirius furrowed his brow, spotting yet another thing this woman did that Hermione did, in the exact same way Hermione did it. There was a gene for that? "Irrelevant. I'm not particularly concerned with what became of the family there. I'm concerned with what will become of my family here. I cannot be accountable for three realities, nor do I need that sort of stress. What I want is information which will better prepare me for paving a future in which my family is safe and secure here."

"So Voldemort's actionable movements, patterns, biography, and information about key players and how they fit into the current landscape of things?" Hermione clarified.

"Yes, that would do quite well," the older Witch said, nodding.

"Holy shite," Sirius muttered, leaning back in his seat. "Never, ever let anyone doubt you two are related!"

Constance snorted in amusement. "Dear boy, that was obvious the moment it was clear she had a brain. It's a Boleyn trait, and by the by Hermione, I heard you met Elizabeth recently."

Hermione frowned. "How'd you know about that?"

"She mentioned meeting a young Witch named Hermione when we had tea the other day," Constance said dismissively. "Don't fuss, I didn't tell her more than she already knew about you, although honestly, it would behoove you to be honest with her about our relation. She is our cousin, after all."

Sirius coughed. "Excuse me?"

"Bugger him," Hermione said, looking wide eyed. "Excuse me? What do you mean she's our cousin?"

"Well, we descend from Anne Boleyn. She was a Squib. Elizabeth descends from Anne's sister, Mary Boleyn. Of course, it's however many times removed at this point, but all the same, it can be traced. Elizabeth was commenting on how nice it was to meet someone with whom she felt she could share something resembling equality with, given your status as a Lady, but the ironic part is you're a Lady through Sirius, a Duchess through the Boleyns, and a Princess through the Goblins, and that doesn't even account for your status as a Mage. For Merlin's sake, Hermione, you're among the rare few who, like Elizabeth, hold multiple titles."

Sirius cleared his throat. "Babe. What's this I hear about Princess?"

Hermione glared at Constance. "I was trying to keep a lid on that, thanks. I already had an argument with Melok over it. Do me a kindness and not mention it to anyone else. I am opting against claiming the title. Trust me when I say it's not worth it."

Constance nodded in understanding. "I'll trust your judgment on that as with Melok as a resource I'm certain your information is more clear than my own, but that is a bleeding shame."

He raised his hand. "Princess?"

She sighed. "Yes. About that. Turns out when you descend from a Royal bloodline of the Goblin nation, it means you're a Goblin Prince or Princess. Oh. Prince. That means Richard… oh, bugger, no wonder he understood full well why I was keeping a lid on it. Shite."

"Friend of yours?" Constance inquired.

"A young man who also descends from Goblin Royalty, and since I didn't know better I basically shoved him into the arms of the Gringotts Goblins, thinking they could help him hone his gifts and give him a good start in life. I had no idea I'd handed them a Prince. That may, however, give me some workable way into the Goblins staying out of the conflict with Voldemort. Richard seems inclined to join the Resistance, from what little we've spoken on the topic. We've had one meeting, and we're meant to meet again soon at which point I think we'll both stop beating around the bush, but if I can bring him in, he can effectively give us the Goblins."

Sirius shook his head. "So you're a Goblin Princess? Does that make me a Prince?"

She shook her head in the negative. "It does not, as by their laws, I can't marry you given you do not have any Goblin blood. They find out I'm a Princess, they'd want us to divorce."

"But we can't do that," he said, feeling the color drain from his face. "Even if we wanted to… we can't."

She sighed. "You can't, Sirius. Breaking our vows would destroy your magic, however my Goblin DNA would prevent that from happening to me, and the Goblins know that. Ergo, they can never find out what line I descend from."

He laughed. "Why not? What are they going to do, force us to divorce?"

"I can think of three ways off the top of my head that they could end our marriage," she whispered. "Yes, by force."

Constance looked at Sirius thoughtfully. "They could kill you. There's an old, dark arts spell that would forcibly eject your marital bond. Neither of you would even need to be conscious for that. What's the third, Hermione?"

He felt sick just thinking of the first two.

"The whole point of this would be a preference to marry me off to a pure Goblin to keep the bloodline alive as long as possible," she replied, looking apologetic. "They wouldn't necessarily be unkind about it, and they know full well there is a Goblin with whom I already have an emotional connection. They could very easily knock both of us unconscious and perform a ceremony. Because of my lineage, that bond would take precedence and eject my bond with Sirius in response."

Sirius took minute comfort in the fact that Melok - points to Hermione for not actually saying his bloody name right now - wouldn't have to enter into that willingly. He'd never know, if that happened, if the guy literally stole his wife because he wanted to or didn't want to. Merlin knew he was already sharing Hermione with him emotionally speaking, but to comprehend that Melok had it within him, because she had fucking Goblin DNA, to just decide to marry Hermione one day and that he could without anyone consulting him on the matter was making his guts twist uncomfortably.

Actually, that was no comfort. It was the opposite of comfort. He wasn't honestly sure how he was going to look at Melok next time he saw him, knowing what he knew now. It didn't matter if he wanted that power or not, Melok had it. He had the power to take Hermione away, and strip Sirius of his magic all in the same stroke. Shite.

Sirius stood rather abruptly, his chair skidding on the tile floor like fingernails on a chalkboard. He watched as his wife winced. "I'm going to bed," he said softly. "I won't wait up."

"Sirius…" she called after him.

"Not waiting up!" he snapped, and he hoped like hell she got the message.

Don't fucking follow me. Not right now.

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