Chapter Twenty Seven

"I'm fine, Poppy," Aberforth said, exasperated as his daughter applied an absurd amount of bruise paste to his forehead. "Honestly, I just came up here because I'm behind on my brewing and didn't have a headache potion. You're overreacting!"

"You have a concussion, Father," she said firmly. "You're staying overnight."

"I most certainly am not," he countered, just as vehemently. "Place monitoring spells on me if you absolutely must, but I have a meeting with Hermione and Melok this evening I am not going to miss, and there's a party at the Hog's Head tomorrow afternoon I still need to get set up for. I'm not staying."

"Stubborn old goat," Poppy snipped.

"For Merlin's sake, girl, don't mother me!" he griped as she shoved him, forcing him to lay down on the bed in the Hospital Wing. What had he been thinking, coming up here after the brawl in his pub? He should have just suffered through the headache.

"Oh, Gods, what has he done to himself now?" a new voice inquired, the click of heels alerting him to someone's arrival. He identified the newcomer by voice, even if he couldn't see her from his current vantage point.

"Aggie," he greeted, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Abe," she returned, coming into view above him. "Well? Did you swerve when you ought to have ducked?"

"More like stayed when I should have gotten the hell out of the way," he admitted. "A couple of the upper years decided to get into a fisticuff over some chit's honor. Had it been a duel, I might have been able to break it up without issue, but hand to hand combat isn't in my wheelhouse."

Poppy elaborated. "As such, he showed up here with a broken nose, broken rib, broken wrist, and a concussion. Idiot refuses to even name his attackers or file charges with the Aurors. He might have been killed!"

"She's overreacting," Aberforth groaned. "The rib was only fractured, as was the wrist. Breaking a nose is so easy a first year could do it if they hit you right, and as for the concussion, that came about when I tripped over a chair and hit my head on the bar. The wrist was because it got stepped on once I was down. It was an accident. The only bit that was honestly a purposeful attack was the nose and rib, and honestly, I probably had that coming for getting in the middle of something that wasn't my concern."

Agatha Filch sat on the side of the bed beside him, looking him over carefully. "You are an idiot," she said softly. "Poppy has every call to be concerned, you prat. Shelf that Slytherin pride of yours for once, will you?"

He huffed. "But Aggie, what would be left of my charming personality if I did that?"

She scowled, and slapped his chest, causing him to wince. Poppy had mended the rib but it was still tender. "Nothing, I imagine. You'd be left with only your good looks to get you by, likely."

"Well at least that's something," he teased, grinning a bit.

Agatha stood, rolling her eyes. She turned to Poppy. "You'll need a dose and a half of Dreamless Sleep or any other potions meant to sedate if you mean to knock the prat out, my dear. He's built up a resistance over the years. Deliberately."

Aberforth glared at both of them, and then addressed his daughter. "Don't even think about it. I have shite to do."

The Latin Professor let out a resigned sigh and then after getting a package from Poppy, presumably the reason she'd come by in the first place, she was on her way. His daughter looked at him as soon as the other Witch was out the door again. "So. I hadn't realized you and Agatha were close."

He sighed, knowing Poppy wasn't going to let the subject go. "We made an attempt at a romance some years ago. It didn't last, although we did remain friends after the fact. I've got a decent relationship with Argus as well because of the time I spent seeing his mother."

His daughter raised an eyebrow. "What split you up?"

"She had an aversion to Slytherins, and I was a Slytherin and struggled with her belief that I was the only exception to the rule that all Slytherins were bullying bastards. That she worked at Hogwarts and had a good relationship with Albus didn't help matters. Ultimately, there were just too many big issues on which we couldn't agree," he explained.

To his exasperation, Poppy continued to fuss over him for the next hour before begrudgingly releasing him under the condition that he return to see her first thing in the morning before opening the pub so she could look him over one more time. He was under threat that if he was not in her infirmary by nine sharp, then she'd march right into his rooms with no care if he was in bed, starkers. According to Poppy, him being her father didn't change that he didn't have anything she hadn't seen before.

By the time Aberforth returned to the Hog's Head, he could tell Hermione and Melok were already there. First, it was evident by the fact that their cloaks were on the rack by the door, and as he began climbing the stairs to the room they usually met in when they opted to meet here, it was evident by the sound of them arguing, loudly. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but knowing full well that sometimes an argument was needed for people to say what needed to be said, and quite frankly not interested in getting in the middle of another argument today, he approached the room quietly, intent to wait until it seemed to be boiling down before entering.

"She's a perfectly sensible choice, Melok!" Hermione yelled.

"You haven't even met her, Hermione!" the Goblin shouted back. "I'll be tickled if Liz comes back to London long term and gets to know you and the boys, but to make her the boys' Godmother? No! I'd never take that away from you, first of all, and secondly I refuse to believe you won't live out this war!"

"We have to assume the worst," she insisted. "James and Lily counted on Sirius being around for Harry and then he got carted off to Azkaban, framed for their deaths. If something happens to both of us, we need to consider setting up a backup guardian for the boys. Godmother or not, you know I'm not purposefully walking away from Filius and Caelum."

"Well I'm not picking Liz," Melok grumbled. "This entire hypothetical conversation is stupid, but in the hypothetical, she has a lifetime habit of not forming attachments, and I wouldn't want the boys to be raised by someone like that, if we were both gone."

"Fine," she huffed. "What about Sirius?"

"Have you lost your ever loving mind?" Melok growled. "I tolerate him being Uncle Sirius because I must, Hermione. Do not mistake that for any inkling of interest in that man raising my sons. Do I respect him? Yes. That does not mean I like the man."

Aberforth peered carefully through the crack in the door, seeing Hermione cross her arms over her chest. She and Melok were sitting together on the sofa in front of the window. "What must you think of me, then," she inquired primly, "for loving a man you so clearly dislike?"

The Goblin's eyes widened in a manner which Aberforth knew well. It was an expression he'd seen on the face of many men over the years which meant 'I just fucked up, didn't I?', and yes, he had. The owner of the Hog's Head had to stifle a gasp of surprise at Melok's method of backpedaling, however. There was no apology. There were no words of assurance. The bloke just leaned forward, threaded his hand through Hermione's hair, and kissed her.

He kissed her quite passionately, in fact, and she kissed him back. They went on for several minutes, snogging like their lives depended on it. Aberforth was nearly ready to conjure a bucket of cold water to snap them out of it before they got carried away, when Hermione seemed to come to her senses and pulled away, shoving Melok off of her abruptly.

"Fuck, Melok, that's not fair! You know what you do to me, and it's not bloody fair for you to take advantage of the fact that I can't stay angry with you when you kiss me like that!"

The Goblin groaned loudly. "As if you weren't a willing participant, by the Gods, Hermione! Don't act like I've bloody assaulted you!"

Aberforth winced as that comment seemed to light a fire in Hermione, and she lunged at him and kissed him again. Melok grunted, as he was knocked onto his back, and Hermione crawled on top of the Goblin and straddled him. They were snogging furiously, and Aberforth was about ready to intervene when Hermione pulled away, sat up, and slapped the Goblin.

"Ow," Melok complained.

"You don't have to leave this room and face Sirius, or Minerva," she said harshly. "You don't have to deal with the ache of having a husband who wants you, who you love and should want in equal return, but on the days that you touch me like this my love… it's not Sirius' touch I want to make me come undone that night, but I don't have a choice."

Aberforth watched with morbid fascination as Melok sat upright and took her hand. He'd known there was something intense between them, but seeing it was making it more real and less of an abstract concept that he considered a problem more often than not. He watched as she pulled away, tears on her face, and then Hermione stood and began pacing the room.

"Let's get back to work," she said softly. Aberforth carefully stepped away from the door, determined to pop back downstairs for a bottle of very good liquor before he'd come back up and join them. It looked like they all needed it.

Minerva handed Trian to Hermione. "You sure you don't mind watching him today?" she asked.

"Of course not," the other woman smiled. "I'm sure you and Sirius will have a fun time without me. It'll be good for you two."

The infant in Hermione's arms giggled. "Merlin," the Mage said softly. "His core is so like Sirius'. Of course it would be, but…"

The Scottish woman raised an eyebrow. "I'd been thinking about how similar his core was to my own. It becomes a simple matter to sooth him because I know so much about magical harmonics, after working with you, given the similar nature of our cores. I can easily tap into what makes our cores the same and allow that harmonic to work for me."

Hermione's jaw opened and closed a few times, and then she quickly found a seat at the kitchen table, clearly not trusting herself to stand. "I…um…"

Minerva frowned. "What is it?"

Hermione looked at her desperately. "Minerva, what if my attraction to Sirius has always been because of the similarity to you?"

The other Witch sighed and sat down across from her friend. "Dearest, you're not in love with me. You are in love with Sirius. It's not the same. Sirius and I are not the same. The nature of our magical cores may be similar, and I won't say that isn't a part of your attraction to him, but that doesn't explain the love between you: not your love for him, nor his love for you."

The Mage shook her head, still unconvinced. "But what if… what if what I have with Sirius was only meant to be a bridge, Minerva? Something to get me from one thing to another. To help me transition from a life of casual sex to committed relationships? What if it was never meant to become a marriage and I've made a terrible mistake?"

Minerva didn't have to ask what, or whom Hermione was thinking of as the person on the other end of the bridge. Melok. It was always Melok, and it tore her apart to be in this position. What could she advise? One part of her wanted to advocate for Sirius - her son - but another part of her saw how Hermione was with Filius and Caelum, and with Melok, and knew they were a wonderful little family together and for as much as she missed Genia, loved seeing Hermione as a part of that family unit and did wish they could openly be as such. Ultimately, however, the point was moot, much as it had been with her and Orion.

"Black marriage vows are for life, Hermione," she said gently. "You know this."

The other woman bowed her head. "Yes."

Then, she said the only encouraging thing she could at present. "Both Mages and Goblins are very long lived. In time, perhaps…"

Hermione offered a half hearted smile. "Perhaps," she agreed. "I wouldn't ask him to wait, though."

"Nor would Orion ask that of me," Minerva replied, "however that is not up to him, nor is it up to you. If I wait for Orion to be free, or Melok waits for you… Hermione, we all have choices to make. What we can each live with is up to the individual. He's honorable, and he loves you. I'd bet good Galleons on him waiting for you, no matter how long it took."

"And will you wait for Orion?" she inquired.

Minerva shrugged. "I don't expect I'll be celibate between now and then, and I will try to be open to finding love in other places, but unless the Gods surprise me, then yes, I expect I will. He's the father of my son, Hermione. That's a bond that cannot be undone."

Her friend nodded in understanding, likely having similar feelings in regard to Melok. "I know," she whispered.

Conversation shifted from there to what Hermione needed to know about Trian's current care needs before Minerva moved to go find Sirius, the pair of them off to meet with Peter Pettigrew's mother today. Despite Sirius' being told the boy was Muggleborn, on the second of June the name in question had appeared in the book of expectant students, listed as Half Blood, which had both of them more than a little curious. It was nearly the end of June now, but it was the first afternoon both she and Sirius were free to go investigating.

Fifteen minutes later, the pair had apparated to the village of Stannington, to a cottage near the outskirts which looked a bit worse for wear, but well maintained for the most part. The name Pettigrew was neatly painted on the postbox, telling Minerva and Sirius they were in the right place. They'd both worn Muggle clothes today, the plan being to play at being from the records department of the hospital where Mary Pettigrew had given birth a few weeks prior. Before coming here, Sirius had done some investigating and learned that Mary was a single mother, and no father had been listed on the birth certificate. While she was technically within rights to not name a father, they intended to pretend to not be aware she'd declined to state a father purposefully, and that they were following up on what they deemed a clerical error.

"Ready?" Sirius asked, taking a deep breath.

Minerva rolled her eyes. "It's a Muggle and a baby, Sirius. Breathe."

"I'll take that as a yes," he grumbled, marching forward and knocking on the door.

Minerva followed quickly, taking her place beside him, and after a minute the door was answered by a woman with wavy, sandy brown hair and blue eyes. She was petite and a bit on the pudgy side, although she wore the weight well, Minerva thought, the curves on her body looking healthy and not unseemly. She held an infant, presumably Peter, in her arms, and looked as frazzled as Minerva had felt her first few weeks with Trian. "Can I help you?" she asked wearily.

She took the lead. "Ms. Pettigrew?"

"Yes?" Mary confirmed.

"I am Ms. McGonagall. This is Mister Black. We're from Northern General, Records Department. The Certificate of Birth for your son, Peter, was filed with us a few weeks ago, however there was no name listed for his father. We wanted to follow up to remedy that oversight."

The woman stiffened. "He's not in the picture. I haven't the foggiest where he is, or how to contact him. Things were fine and the moment he learned I was expecting, he buggered off. He doesn't deserve to be listed. I certainly won't be giving my son his name."

Sirius stepped up. "I can appreciate the difficulty of your situation, ma'am. We won't interfere with your life, nor tell you how to raise your boy, but you never know what the future may hold, and I do believe it would be wise to at least list the father's name on the birth certificate so that if one day either the father comes around looking, or Peter starts asking questions, you have some measure of proof at your disposal."

Mary Pettigrew looked at them doubtfully for a moment, and then down at her son briefly, before nodding. "Fine then," she said. "His father was called Eustace Slughorn."

Minerva and Sirius looked at each other, likely both thinking and feeling the same thing. Eustace Slughorn was Horace's younger brother. This was something of a shock. Sirius found his tongue first. "You gave Peter his father's name for his second name, I see," he muttered.

The Muggle woman nodded. "Peter, after the Serbian King, and Eustace, after his father."

The Scottish Witch raised an eyebrow. "What is your attachment to King Peter, if I may inquire?"

Mary offered a proud smile. "My father served with him in the Balkan Wars, and they remained friends after, even once Father relocated to England, until his death in twenty one. Father always told me that if he'd had a son he'd have named him Peter, so when I had a son, well, it just seemed the thing to do."

Minerva, knowing Hermione and Margot would approve, offered a business card to Mary. "Ms. Pettigrew, I'm a single mother myself. It can be difficult. This is the number of a friend of mine, Margot, who is in a position to assist if the need arises. Nothing that could possibly come up will surprise her, I assure you. She is married herself, but her husband is not the judgmental sort, nor is she."

Sirius spoke up. "She's one of my wife's best friends, and my wife has a knack for collecting people in need."

Mary frowned. "Didn't you say your name was Black? Any relation to Lord Sirius Black?"

He sighed heavily, and looked at Minerva. "I told you I should have used a fake name."

"I didn't tell you not to do so," Minerva countered. Then she turned back to Mary and shrugged. "Not a relation. He is Lord Sirius Black. He just likes to play at being a commoner. His wife, Lady Hermione Black, truly does make a habit of finding those in need and helping where she can, so in all seriousness, if you need anything, contact Margot and she'll get you in touch with whatever you need."

"What in God's name is a Lord doing working in the Records Department of a Hospital?" Mary asked, looking horrified.

Minerva shook her head. "He's not. He's just pretending at the moment so he could meet you and your son today. We expect Peter to grow up to be something quite special, Ms. Pettigrew."

The Muggle woman winced. "You mean… will he be like his father? Like Eustace? Will he have… magic?"

Minerva looked at Sirius. "I can't believe that a Slughorn broke the Statute of Secrecy. Honestly!"

Sirius shrugged. "Me and Hermione do it all the time. The fee really isn't that bad. They should make it higher if they want it to be a real deterrent. Anyhow, Mary, yes. Peter's going to be a Wizard. Margot is non-magical like you, as is her husband, however they have two magical daughters. They can also introduce you to Eileen Snape, who has a boy just a little older than Peter. She's a Witch, but she might as well be a single Mum for as much as Tobias helps out. Minerva here is a single Mum, sort of. She's magical, as is her boy, Trian. He's a few months older than Peter. I've got a nephew called James who is about Peter's age as well, and a niece called Callie who was recently born. We've got lots of people we can introduce you to if you'd like to connect with other people who have magical children Peter's age."

Minerva considered what they'd learned about Peter's paternity. "Further, if you'd consent to a simple test to verify that Peter is Eustace Slughorn's son, you can file some paperwork at our Ministry and claim financial support from him. Whether you give Peter Eustace's name or not is up to you, but at the least Eustace owes you some financial security."

Mary let out a little sigh. "That would be helpful. I don't know how to do any of that, though."

Sirius grinned. "You tell me when works best for you, Ms. Pettigrew, and I would be glad to be your escort."

She considered the offer. "My Mum watches Peter on Monday afternoons so I can run errands. Is there an upcoming Monday that will work for you, Lord Black?"

"Oh, Gods," he grumbled. "Please, just call me Sirius. This coming Monday should be fine. I have a Wizengamot meeting first thing in the morning, but that should be over by ten. I can come pick you up directly after, so be here by ten fifteen?"

"You must call me Mary, then," the Muggle woman said with a slight nod. "I'll mark it in my diary and see you then."

The trio said their goodbyes, and then Sirius and Minerva turned to leave, walking back down the street to the nearest apparition point. "A Slughorn. Huh," Sirius muttered after a bit of quiet. "I wonder if Peter ever learned ol' Sluggy was his uncle."

"Perhaps," Minerva mused. "He may have used it as a bartering tool to ingratiate himself among the Slytherin students as he was joining the Death Eaters. It's even possible that he confronted Horace about it, although knowing Horace as I do, if his brother never claimed Peter, then I doubt he would have either. Peter would have likely resented that."

"I agree," Sirius replied. "Good call on hooking Mary up with other Mums, by the way. Between that and getting her financially set up, that should make a world of difference in how Peter starts off life in the Wizarding world. I don't know if he'll grow up knowing Eustace Slughorn is his father or not, but he will grow up knowing he's a Half Blood, at least. Otherwise, that he's got a stipend will make no sense."

"His mother may tell him it's a stipend coming from a Muggle father," Minerva reasoned, "although I'd advise her against it. Peter will face less prejudice at Hogwarts if he enters it as a known Half Blood, even if who his father is remains a mystery. At present, I do feel it wise to attach him to a Godparent in the Wizarding world. If his father won't step up, that doesn't mean he doesn't need some sort of support, an adult, in our world. A Godparent could provide that."

"Not a horrible thought," the dark haired Wizard mused. "Knowing that brain of yours, you've already got a good idea for who to ask. Share with the class?"

Minerva smirked. "I was thinking of Svetlana Lestrange. Peter's aunt, Prudence, married Rasputin Lestrange. That's Svetlana's older brother. She'd not be Peter's aunt in all technicality, but he does have a family connection to Svetlana nonetheless. Like Peter, Svetlana is set apart from her family, so in that they'd be able to bond, and if ever Svetlana managed to reconnect with any part of her family, I imagine the more politically neutral Rasputin and his wife would be most open to it, allowing Peter to connect to his Aunt Prudence through his Godmother, and potentially learn about his father through her, even if his father wanted nothing to do with him at all."

Sirius grinned at Minerva. "You're getting better at that long game thing Hermione and Albus are so fond of."

"They are quite literally beating it into me," the Transfiguration Professor said, rolling her eyes. "It seems like every other question posed to me has a short answer and a long answer. They won't let me bugger off until I've thought out the scenario to a decade out and then some. It's bloody exhausting!"

By now, they'd reached the apparition point. "The Burrow?" Sirius asked.

"Might as well," she agreed with a shrug.

A moment later the pair of them appeared in front of the familiar house of the Weasley family, striding forward together with ease, not bothering to knock before entering, Sirius opening the door for Minerva and allowing her inside before following. Not an unusual sight as it was by now after supper, Svetlana and Septimus were at the kitchen table with Arithmancy books and piles of parchment spread everywhere, Cedrella puttering around cleaning up after the evening meal.

"Uncle Sirius! Minerva!" Cedrella greeted warmly. "What brings you by?"

All three of them were in the Resistance, so Minerva didn't mince words. "We just came from Mary Pettigrew's," she replied. "It led to an interesting discovery and potentially an assignment for Svetlana, if she'll agree."

The young woman looked up from her papers. "Me? I never get assignments. Also doesn't Hermione usually hand those out?"

Minerva huffed. "I do believe she'll approve, although if you wish we can confirm with her before putting the plan into action. She's not the only one in the Resistance with a brain, you know."

Cedrella chuckled. "Our little Transfiguration Professor is growing up. I'm so proud!"

The Scottish Witch tossed a non verbal stinging hex at Cedrella. "Bugger off!" she muttered.

Septimus, who like the rest of the Resistance members not in the circle of trust, was aware that Hermione had a special interest in Peter Pettigrew, stretched. They were being told that through their Hogwarts connections they were watching the Book of expectant students and checking into children, especially the Muggleborn and Muggle raised ones that could potentially be targeted or exploited by Voldemort in the long haul. "So. What's the news on the Pettigrew situation?" he asked.

"Well, like we said at the last meeting, we'd learned that Mary Pettigrew didn't list a father on the birth certificate," Sirius explained. "Minerva also shared that Peter showed up in the book at Hogwarts as Half Blood, so since we know Mary is a Muggle, that had to imply the father was a Wizard, although he's clearly not a part of her life at this point."

"I take it we sorted out who the father is?" Cedrella concluded.

"Eustace Slughorn," Minerva confided.

Svetlana dropped her quill. "You're shitting me. Eustace? Muggle hating, Pureblood idealist, Eustace Slughorn? Knocked up a Muggle?"

"From what Mary said, it was a long standing affair," Sirius reported. "He didn't ditch her until she told him she was pregnant. Then he took off. He even told her he was a Wizard. By the sound of things, he didn't tell her much about our world, but she knew enough to inquire if Peter might have magic, which made the whole conversation much easier than I'd anticipated."

Svetlana laughed. "So he shagged a Muggle, knocked up a Muggle, broke the Statute of Secrecy… Merlin, this is bloody great. What a hypocrite. What do you want me to do? Go hex him within an inch of his life? If yes, I'd be glad to."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "No, we want you to go with Sirius to meet Mary, and offer to be Peter's Godmother. The boy will need an adult - a magical adult - in his life as he grows up, who can be a mentor to him. Through your brother, you are connected to the Slughorns, and therefore offer an opportunity to Peter that one day, even if his father never acknowledges him, to potentially meet some part of his father's family. Prudence Slughorn, with as moderate as she is, will likely be happy to acknowledge Peter even if her brother does not. I don't expect that Horace will acknowledge the boy so long as Eustace refuses to. Credence, I expect, will likely be kind to Peter if they cross paths, but like his brothers, won't acknowledge him as a Slughorn so long as his older brothers maintain their positions on the subject."

Svetlana looked perplexed. "I don't know how to be a Godmother!"

"Nor did I when Cedrella dumped Edmund on me," Minerva remarked. "I managed. So will you."

"Don't Muggleborns usually sort to Gryffindor, though?" the other woman inquired. "I don't even like Gryffindors most of the time!"

Sirius smirked. "He's a Halfblood and father is a Slytherin, Svetlana. If his Godmother is also a Slytherin, and he grows up supported by her, odds are he'll be a Slytherin. Is that not a worthy challenge? Turn a Halfblood boy, whose Pureblood father meant to bury the truth of his bloodline, into a true Slytherin?"

Svetlana's eyes narrowed at Sirius, and then she offered a curt nod. "Alright. You're on."

Minerva sighed heavily. Slytherins.

Already in London to spend some time with Minerva and Trian, Helen Magnus was taking the extra initiative to socialize with Hermione. Both busy leaders in their own right, most of the time when Helen and Hermione saw one another, it was for meetings, and the pair seldom just got together as friends. Decades of experience had taught her, by now, how necessary self care was to continuing sanity, and so despite Hermione's protests that she really didn't have the time for a leisurely stroll down Diagon Alley today, Helen had insisted.

"I can't remember the last time I just sat down and had lunch," Hermione admitted after they left the Leaky Cauldron together and entered the Alley proper. "Either I'm rushing through it on my way somewhere, or grabbing a few bites as I'm getting the boys fed, or I'm only half paying attention to my food as I'm having a lunch meeting…"

Helen smirked knowingly. "I imagined that was the case. Thus my arranging a girls' day."

Hermione offered her a grateful smile. "Thank you for bullying me into it, Helen. I know I was being stubborn."

The Head of the Sanctuary nodded. "A leader's work is never done, Hermione, but you must remember that often, the work will wait. You'll burn out if you don't stop to breathe now and then. You need to remember to take care of yourself if you hope to take care of everyone else."

The pair continued to chat about this and that as they meandered down the shopping mecca, going in and out of stores but only half interested in actually looking at merchandise, the conversation more of value to them than whatever wares were available. They mostly stayed away from the topic of business, but when it did come up, Helen was understanding. Like her life was greatly encompassed by the Sanctuary, Hermione's was greatly encompassed by the Resistance. It was hard to set themselves apart from the organizations which had become a large part of their identities.

"How are things going with the merger?" Hermione inquired. "I know the talk with the Goblins went well, and Cor said that the talk with the Werewolves went well. You had the Merfolk last week, right?"

Helen nodded. "Again, it was a positive meeting, although the Merfolk are requesting some concessions regarding the penal system, as while there are spells and so forth to allow Wizards to temporarily breathe underwater and therefore attack Merfolk or otherwise violate their laws, those sort of spells would be difficult to maintain long term in the case of a prison. On the other hand, Merfolk cannot exist on land short of one potion which gives them human form for a month, and they are not particularly keen to make use of that to staff a prison on a long term basis, as it is a difficult brew with expensive ingredients."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "So you'd need someone else to staff the Merfolk prison, or have an agreement with one of the other clans for them to have oversight of Merfolk prisoners."

"We're leaning toward the latter. The Merfolk have a fairly good relationship with the Goblins," Helen explained, "as they historically have helped recover relics lost at sea. I'm working with Griphook and Melok at the moment to negotiate for the Goblins to take oversight in exchange for potions ingredients that are difficult to obtain for anyone other than the Merfolk."

"Not a bad plan," the Resistance Head praised. "Any other major hiccups you've run into thus far?"

Helen sighed. "Not related to the merger, directly. I am beginning to think long term, however, and if the Sanctuary and general Abnormal community is truly en route to merge with the Wizarding world, then it would be prudent to have a more cohesive exchange system in play. Yes, you can exchange Galleons for whatever Muggle currency is available where you are, but there are no banks specifically dedicated to people who live with a foot in each world. It's frustrating, to me, to have to worry about transferring funds from Gringotts to my Muggle accounts in order to make purchases in the Muggle world, or the other way around. It would be nice if I could just have one bank in which it was acceptable to draw funds from there no matter what the purchasing location was."

The Mage looked thoughtful. "I'd think it less an issue of having a third bank and more one of having a specialist within Gringotts who set up a system that automatically made the conversions necessary, and could offer the equivalent of cheques or like those new Muggle credit cards that were simply linked to your Gringotts accounts. I know someone who might be able to help with that, actually."

Helen raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Hermione nodded. "Richard Feliz. He's a Goblin Prince. Human though, like me. He works at Gringotts already. He had been set up to marry a Goblin because of the old laws, but after that meeting, he's no longer required to do so. Of course, he's being an honorable git about things and insisting on following through - to a point - on things he's already agreed to. He says while he's not going to marry a Goblin, he is going to agree to donate sperm to two or three Goblin women so his line will get carried on, and that he'll raise his own children and give them his name. It's a middle ground, and his children will be royals."

"Richard Feliz," Helen said, repeating the name, knowing it would help her remember it. "It's a good, strong name, isn't it?"

Hermione smiled brightly. "I think so, but I'm biased. In a way, Richard is something of a cousin to me, after all."

The older woman laughed. "I suppose he would be. Will you take as much of a shining to his children as you have to Filius and Caelum, with that in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know about that," she mused. "I'll likely consider them family, much as I consider Richard, but Helen, I'm a Black. Who isn't family at this point?"

Helen smirked knowingly. "True, that."

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