Another trip to the past, Miranda returns to Harry and Hermione, Hermione and Miranda have some awkward conversations, and Christmas!

"Miranda, please calm down." Gellert drawled wearily.

She sucked in deep panicked breaths from where she was crouched on the floor, "Papa, I-I…"

"The boy is dead." He stated bluntly, nudging the small body with the tip of his shoe.

"I killed him." Her voice was hollow, her fingers tangled in her own hair.

"He upset you. I did tell him not to upset you." He sighed in disappointment, "I should have found you a more docile companion. My mistake. I'll do better next time."

"I flew apart. I was smoke." She whispered, starting to shake again. "Tearing. Clawing. Death."

"Master?" Claudius called cautiously.

Gellert brushed his blond curls back from his face. The honeyed locks made him look more human, less alarming for her now that she had her sight, but they were a pain to take care of. Her blue eyes stared up at him, the magic tainting her body as it gave her her sight. The loss of that power was a small blow, and he'd have to carefully monitor more than just his hair when he was around others who were familiar with his appearance. It had been worth it though, to see the smile on her face with the magic he had once held bleeding through not just one, but both of her eyes. It liked her more than him, it seemed. He didn't even have it in him to be jealous.

The child had turned him in to a complete infant.

He'd made a mistake in selecting a companion for her though, and the other child was dead. Pity. He was a sprightly little muggle. He'd asked too many questions though, and she'd lost control on the monster inside of her more than once. The first few times, according to Claudius, she'd merely tossed him away. Now his body was growing cold on the stone floor, his face mutilated by her magic. He had apparently brought up her brother.

"Evanesco." The corpse vanished, along with every other trace of the boy that had lived with them for the last three days. Claudius didn't even blink.

Miranda gasped, scrambling away, still shaking, moments away from losing control of the obscurus again. "Papa?"

"Claudius, calm her."

Her magicked eyes widened as a silver hairbrush started dragging through her hair, the elf's magic working just as it had so many times before. The boy wasn't the first companion she'd maimed or killed. Not that she remembered, of course. Being on the cusp of womanhood had affected her more than he'd assumed. She was finally struggling to keep the monster at bay. A reason why most of her kind died young? Possibly.

Now that she was calmer though, he used a hand to tip her face up towards him, "Look here, Pet. Everything will be fine."

She smiled drunkenly, echoing him as the smoke that had been swirling around her in anticipation seeped back into her skin, "Everything will be fine."

"Of course it will be." He told her before he whispered, "Obliviate."

She fainted for just long enough for him to arrange her on the sofa nearby. She stirred, opening her blue eyes and giving him another smile, "Papa?"

"You've been ill, Pet. A fever. You'll be tired for a while longer, but you're out of the woods." He explained easily, using the same excuse he'd used before.

Miranda frowned, which she hadn't done before, "That's a shame."

"Pardon?"

She smiled weakly, covering her face with her hands, shaking her wrist at him, the one with the enchanted snake twined around it, "I thought with this I'd finally not be sick all the time. I've been fine these last couple years. I thought it was doing more than giving me my sight." She yawned once, and rolled over, tucking herself closer into his side before falling asleep, her earlier exertion too much for her.

Gellert took her arm in his hand, the runes on the snake glowing up at his touch. He hadn't noticed that she'd been conspicuously healthy in the months since he'd placed the artifact on her. Of course he'd been gone often as well.

He had to figure out a way to help her maintain control. If he didn't and she let the creature consume her, his last four years would have been a waste.

—

Miranda's first instinct was to hex the snot out of the person who had it's arms around her, but then she recognized the scent of her favorite boy. "Harry?" She said, confused. But of course it had to be him, her magic had long reacted negatively to being touched unknowingly by others, but not by him. Until she'd realized that her magic had a life of it's own she'd never really made the connection.

She had one glimpse of his green eyes before Harry kissed her soundly, leaving them both breathless with his fingers tangled in her hair as he whispered, "I had a feeling if I hung around long enough, you'd come back."

"I said I'd be back." She whispered back, tucking herself against his chest and wrapping her arms tightly around him.

He bumped his cheek against her temple, "Ron didn't come?"

"No." Miranda answered, breathing in his scent, "Why are you here now? We promised to wait a week! You could have been caught!" She tried to sound irritated, but she just was so glad to be back with him. The insanity of the last few days had left her feeling shaky, but being in his arms made her mind clear.

Harry sighed, "I know, but I just..."

"Had a feeling." Miranda finished for him, shaking her head. There was so much going on that was out of their control, so much she didn't understand, and so much that she couldn't tell him. In all of it though, she had to protect him. "Harry, you shouldn't have done that. He could have been the one making you feel that."

He stroked the side of her face, pulling her back so he could kiss her nose as he grumbled, "Its not like I've been camping out here or anyting, I've just been coming once a day and staying for ten minutes or so. It's given me something to do besides listening to 'Mione cry."

"She's still not any better?" Miranda asked, concern etched in her voice.

He shook his head, "She was better today, but it's the first real improvement I've seen."

"Hopefully I can help a little."

He groaned in angst, "Do you have some other potion up your sleeve? Cause Ron isn't with you. That's the only thing I can think of that's going to make this any better."

Miranda narrowed her eyes at his attitude, "If I knew there was a potion to cure heartache I'd have been quite the wealthy witch." She laced her fingers with his, "I think I talked him off the ledge at least. He just needs some time. Burga and I always needed a few days to ourselves after a bad row. He'll come back, I'm almost certain."

Harry frowned at her, "How's he supposed to do that?"

"I'm not certain." She answered honestly, "He'll find a way back. I have a feeling that Weasley's don't give up too easily."

"Why do you say that?" He asked.

She giggled, "I stayed a bit at the Burrow and met his parents and Ginny, they sent me to Shell Cottage where Bill and Fleur are living. Ron was there, and I also met Charlie when he came to rest. He's quite the flirt."

A predatory look entered Harry's eyes, "A flirt?"

Miranda decided very quickly that she liked jealous Harry, very, very much. She bit her bottom lip, "He was handsome." Harry's eyes looked like they could have started a fire. She kissed him, "But you're the only I want, Harry. You don't have to worry. I love you."

He smiled broadly, jerking her close and kissing her deeply, running his fingers through her hair again before linking them behind her waist. "That makes me so happy." He trailed his lips along her jawline, and Miranda's insides were suddenly molten.

"Harry," Miranda sighed, reaching her scarred right hand up to hold the back of his head when he started in on a sensitive spot behind her ear she'd never known existed.

He shifted even closer to her, whispering in her ear, "How about we stay here for a bit? We haven't really had any alone time." He brushed his cheek against hers, "I'm tired, Miranda. Hermione will be fine for a while. I missed you."

Miranda wanted to tell him yes, her body wanted to tell him yes, to see wherever these soft touches and sweet words were going, but it just wasn't wise. He didn't know enough, and she couldn't be sure she could control herself if memories she'd tried to bury surfaced in the midst of a rushed moment with him. "Harry, we're in the middle of a war. And you're the one they want. It's not safe here."

Harry grumbled and kissed that spot behind her ear again, "No where is safe."

She scrunched up her face, "True, but it's even worse here, there's no wards. You know that." Miranda grasped his hair and pulled his very determined lips away from her neck, "What's gotten into you?" She asked, kissing the corners of his mouth and brushing a strand of black hair out of his eyes, "We need to cut this again."

"Blimey, you can see?" Harry exclaimed, jumping back and staring at her in disbelief. "How did I not notice?"

Miranda's blue eyes were laughing, but she kept the rest of her body in check, "It seems Mr. Weasley likes to bring strange things that like to bite home from work. I owe him a great deal. I'm not usually gifted with that kind of luck."

"Wow." Harry said, in awe, sitting back down, "So you can really see me?"

She nodded her head at him, kissing his forehead, just over the scar her brother had left on him, "Yes, I can see you Harry, but that still doesn't explain the way you're acting. Have you been wearing the locket?"

He winced, and nodded slightly, "Miranda, I just get so tired of having to be me! I don't want to be the bloody Boy-Who-Lived! I don't want to have to have all of the answers! I want to be who I was seven years ago, Just Harry!" He was angry, but unlike before, this anger was his own. She could neither see nor feel the locket's presence.

Miranda gripped his chin like a mother would an obstinate child, "You are 'Just Harry'. You always will be, to me and your true friends. It doesn't matter what the rest of the world thinks, you're Harry. Do you think Ron and Hermione would have even come on this journey if they didn't love you? I love you, Harry, and not because you're the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. But because you are utterly handsome inside and out. You are unfailingly kind and unexplainably resourceful. I wi-…I would die for you, Harry, in an instant. You don't have to have all of the answers, but I know that you are the only person who will be able to find them."

Their eyes stayed locked for a long time, Harry just staring back at her as he sorted through all the things she had just spat out at him. "I love you too." He finally said softly, shaking his head regretfully, "Thank you for knocking me out of that rut. With 'Mione not really talking, I've had a lot of time on my hands." Harry sighed, shaking his head, "You always seem to know just what to say."

She never knew what to say, she just got lucky, but that wasn't what he needed to hear. "It's not terribly difficult." She lied. He needed her to lie. "I've been doing it my whole life. My brother lost faith in himself often. Walburga was too hard on herself, and Brennan was hopelessly devoted to her." Miranda shrugged after the three truths, trying to play them off, "I drafted out lectures like that one in my spare time. Old habits die hard, I guess."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and she finally came to some sort of a decision. If it could even be called that. It really wasn't, but she couldn't just let them sit there, "Alright, I'll set some wards so we can talk without disturbing Hermione." She took an unsteady breath, "I need to tell you some things, but…"

"We can't leave 'Mione in the woods alone." Harry finished for her, smiling wryly, "I know. I left the locket with her too. She's had a hard time with it, I've been keeping it except for when I leave her."

Miranda picked her bag up from where it had been dropped upon his 'attack'. "Then let's go. I've got a few of her things that might make her feel better. That, and the locket should probably stay with me."

They wrapped themselves in another long, lingering embrace before Harry finally sighed, and, with one last look at the forest around them, apperated them both to where Hermione was waiting.

Of course they couldn't apperate directly to the camp, but less than a half hour of walking hand in hand passed before they stepped through the wards. Hermione looked close to tears when she saw they were alone, her honeyed eyes pinching shut for a long moment, "He didn't come?"

Miranda shook her head slowly. It was a lot harder to tell the other girl than it had been to tell Harry. She had no idea how Hermione might react, and couldn't imagine if they were in one another's shoes.

Hermione sucked a long breath in through her nose, holding her breath for a moment before letting a gust of air out from between her teeth. "Of course he didn't. Why can't he ever make anything easy?"

Miranda decided it was best she pretend the question the other girl had asked was rhetorical. "Well, Mrs. Weasley sent some of the things you'd both left behind. I've got them in my bag if you want to have a look while Harry goes to bed and gets some rest?" She checked the look on the other girl's face, "Unless you'd rather sleep now."

Hermione hissed in irritation, "No, I'm too pissed to sleep. Go, Harry."

Harry brushed a kiss to Miranda's temple before heading in to the tent and leaving her with his best friend to explain how her vision had suddenly returned.

To her credit, Hermione seemed nonplussed about the serpentine coil being the aide by which Miranda had sight. "Of course it's a magical artifact, that much was obvious. There are loads of things we have to cure muggle ailments, they're usually potions, but objects work too." Hermione prattled, folding and unfolding the same blogs no less than four times, "It's one reason I hate we have to keep ourselves so hidden. Just think of what could happen if human doctors and mediwizards worked together!"

Miranda laughed ruefully, "That would be a dream, wouldn't it? We can't even manage to get along with ourselves."

"We're trying." Hermione whispered, finally putting the poor blouse to rest.

Miranda nodded in agreement, absently wondering why their conversation was so familiar, "You're right."

Hermione dug around in her newly recovered bag, and sighed in relief, "Thank goodness. I was afraid I'd run out soon."

Miranda glanced over, dragging her eyes away from the fire she'd lit just after Harry had retired for the evening. "What's that?"

Hermione blinked furiously at her, the box in question held tight in her left hand as a blush crept up her neck. "These are…Miranda…these are sanitary towels. They're for your monthly. You've never…"

"Had a monthly?" Miranda finished, suddenly feeling like she was much younger than the other girl, "Of course! I was eleven, almost twelve, scared my…father…half to death when he heard me screaming from my room."

Hermione studied her, "You lived in the muggle world, right? What did you…"

Miranda shook her head, her own face growing hot, "They've never actually been…monthly. They don't come at all when I'm stressed. Come to think of it, I haven't had one since I woke up here."

Hermione's head tilted to one side, "You know that can be a really bad thing, right?"

Miranda nodded, and Hermione continued on gleefully, "There's a potion to help with that. I don't have it…" The blush crept father up her neck and onto her cheeks, "Haven't needed it, but with how you are at potions, I'm sure it wouldn't be difficult for you to make. If you'd like I can put some effort into finding the potion book it's in." She pursed her lips, eyebrows knitted together, "The antidote for a love potion may have been on the opposite page."

Miranda stared at her friend.

"There was lots of drama at Hogwarts. Daft boys and barmy girls." Hermione said with a sigh.

Miranda shook her head, "I can only imagine."

Hermione fixed her with a serious look, "It's kind of important, Miranda. Mum told me to be mindful. We aren't completely immune to cancer, you know."

It took her several minutes to respond, "I hadn't thought about that." No, she'd only ever thought about her damaged body in terms of never having children of her own, it had never crossed her mind that her body could betray her further and outright kill her. If she was right about that damned prophecy though, it wouldn't matter. Her days were numbered.

Sure, she played the role of the concerned young woman, but letting Hermione fuss over her reproductive health wasn't going to make a difference in her life span.

The days after she rejoined the pair passed sluggishly without Ron's constant complaining, although Miranda and Harry found ways to pass the time. The new level of intimacy between the two of them was wholly unfamiliar to Miranda, but, every time her thoughts strayed to how she felt every time he was near her, she couldn't imagine giving it up for the world. He was her choice.

Harry and Hermione had also grown closer. It was so sweet to watch them together. Their relationship reminded Miranda of the one she and her brother had had when they were very young, before everything had gone so terribly wrong. She had smiled so widely it hurt when Harry had pulled a moping Hermione to her feet and made her dance with him. It had been a crucial moment in Hermione's recovery, and Miranda had felt honored to be fortunate enough to witness it.

Miranda cut Harry's hair and then spent half a day working knots out of Hermione's hair before giving the girl's hair a trim. She proved to have a much steadier hand than Hermione, and even managed to trim the dead ends off of her own hair, which had been previously flirting dangerously with her waist. Miranda then occupied her time not spent researching or snogging Harry by brewing potions…of all kinds.

Over the course of the next odd month or so, Hermione got better, Miranda became wistful, and Harry got more outrageous in his suggestions. For the most part they were easily dismissed or occupied them for half a day of research before eventually being dismissed. Until he got to one they couldn't deny, stating firmly one morning, "I want to go to Godric's Hollow."

Hermione combated the theory vehemently while Miranda had remained quiet. "Harry, that's exactly what he'll expect you to do! We simply can't go!"

Miranda let her carry on for a few minutes before taking Harry's hand and looking beseechingly at the other girl, "'Mione, I don't think it's such a bad idea. Dumbledore sent you on this mission, and didn't the woman who wrote that biography on him live there? Perhaps we could learn something there? Maybe he left another clue for Harry?"

Harry nodded, "My parents...they died there. I was born there. I just feel like I have to go to understand where to find the next Horcrux."

Hermione had relented after a few days of persuasion, and they went to the place where Miranda's brother had been blown apart by an infant Harry. Harry was under the cloak with Hermione when they apperated, but Miranda could feel him walking closely at her side once they arrived.

They ascertained that it was Christmas very quickly, and Miranda had shivered when they approached the cemetery. Harry, who had taken the cloak off of them both after the first few blocks, insisted they enter, "My parents...they would be...in there, wouldn't they?"

Hermione had nodded numbly and the trio had entered.

Something just didn't feel right to Miranda, so she waited at the entrance, waving at the few people who walked by, wishing them a happy Christmas. "Miranda, come look!" Hermione had exclaimed.

Panicked, Miranda and Harry had rushed to their friend. "What's wrong?"

Hermione rubbed the snow off the top of a raised tomb, "It's the mark from Dumbledore's book!"

"What's the name?" Harry asked, and suddenly Miranda felt the urge to back away, to leave. Her instincts were telling her that they were dangerously close to exposing her, although how they could do that in a cemetery, Miranda didn't know, until Hermione read the name off the stone.

"Ig...no...tus...Ignotus Peverell!" She sounded out, and suddenly all eyes were on Miranda, "You didn't tell us you had relatives in Godric's Hollow."

Miranda shrugged, trying to maintain her composure with what she hoped was a blasé tone. "I wouldn't know. I was adopted, remember? I knew very little about my birth family." That was a half truth. She knew more than enough about her family, but not a lot about the Peverell's.

Hermione looked doubtful, "And you're certain you never saw that symbol before I showed it in the book? It seems to be your family crest or something. Surely your father would have had it about somewhere."

Miranda didn't know what to say, and just stared at the other girl. Harry wandered off, not willing to get between the two girls when he could feel in his bones that a great discovery was close. He kept reading name after name until: "Hermione, Miranda! They're here...my parents...are here."

The girls set aside the interrogation and stood on either side of him, each putting a hand on one of his shoulders. The tombstone was beautiful, "The last enemy that shall be defeated is death." Miranda read.

Harry frowned, "Isn't that a Death Eater phrase?"

Miranda and Hermione shared a look, and Hermione corrected him, "Harry, I'm sure it's intended to mean that they believed in life after death. It's beautifully romantic."

Harry clasped Miranda's free hand in his own, closing his eyes when Hermione conjured a wreath at the base of the stone. Miranda let her eyes wander to the street, sensing a familiar presence. "Harry, someone's watching us." She whispered into his ear.

The trio turned their heads to look, seeing an old woman watching them from under the kissing gate. "I think it's Bathilda Bagshot." Hermione whispered, "She was Skeeter's main contributor."

Harry seemed entranced, "I think she wants to talk to us." He pulled away from the girls, ignoring their soft protests. They followed him as he trailed after the old woman, stopping briefly to gaze up at a burnt house, "This is my old house. This is where my parents died."

Miranda read all of the messages that had been spelled around the house. "They are missed. Look at all of the people wishing you luck. See, Harry this is why we have to keep fighting."

But he wasn't listening to either girl, he was down the street, following Bathilda. "Harry!" Hermione cried, grabbing Miranda's hand and pulling her to catch up with him.

Apprehension filled Miranda's every cell, and a voice seemed to whisper to her, so softly she almost missed it, almost ignored it completely in favor of blind faith, something she'd promised herself she'd never do again. It was a warning: "Turn around. Go back. Not safe. Run away. The end. RUN!"

She reached out, grabbing Harry's shirt, "Harry, are you sure we should go with her?"

He looked at her strangely, "Yes, Miranda, she knew Dumbledore. She might be able to tell us something about the Horcruxes."

"Wait, Harry, Miranda might be right." Hermione tried, but Harry just kept following the elderly woman.

Miranda cursed under her breath, "'Mione, why the bloody hell is your best friend so damn stubborn?"

"I don't know! Shouldn't you? He's your boyfriend!" Hermione snapped back at her as the girls ran after Harry.

Bathilda's house was run down with a musty smell, sending more feelings of terror through Miranda. Harry picked up a photograph, "Ms. Bagshot, who is this?" He asked, but the old woman didn't reply, simply walking through the living room with a flickering candle. Miranda found it strange that she didn't use her wand to light the candle or even to use it to cast Lumos.

Harry followed the old woman, through the maze of her house, Miranda and Hermione trailing right behind until he gestured for them to stop, "Wait, you two stay here. I think she wants to just talk to me."

Unwillingly, the girls stayed downstairs, and Hermione wandered off down a dim hall. Miranda picked the photo up off of the bookshelf Harry had sat it on, and gasped. It was her Papa. She couldn't mistake the blonde curls or high cheekbones set above a square jaw and below his broken nose, even on a man decades younger than when she had known him. She heard a pile of books fall over in Hermione's direction, and moved, photo still in her hands, to see if her friend was okay...until she heard a whisper of what she knew for certain was Parseltongue.

Everything happened at once:

Hermione screamed, terrified, "Harry! Miranda!"

A crash resounded from the upper floor.

Miranda heard Harry start shooting off spells and ran to the stairs as fast as she could. Halfway up the stairs, her foot fell through the rotting wood, and it was only by pure strength of will that she was able to jerk herself free. Hermione got to her right when she stumbled forward from the force of freeing herself. The other girl steadied her and they continued their sprint up the stairs, breaking into the room where the sound of Harry's spells were coming from.

Hermione went in first. The instant Miranda entered, she knew that she had no way out. She wouldn't be continuing on with the Golden Trio. Her time with them was over.

In the middle of the room, stalking Harry, was Nagini. Although the snake and the witch inside should have been long dead, Miranda couldn't mistake the unusual size or markings for anything but the creature who had often been her Papa's companion. She must have joined with Miranda's brother once her Papa had been imprisoned. As she feared, the snake turned to her when she smelled her, Harry momentarily forgotten.

"Mistress?" The snake hissed in confusion, and Miranda shook her head, horrified.

"No." She said, trying not to tremble in desperation, and the snake seemed to believe her as it lit back into action, going after Harry again. He tried to get between the girls and the snake. "Harry, run!" Miranda yelled, lunging around him at the snake.

Nagini was smart, she always had been, and even though she was confused over the scent coming from Miranda and the conflicting words, she knew that Harry was trying to protect her. That she understood. The snake changed her target. Miranda felt the stinging crush of the snake's bite before she heard Harry and Hermione start screaming. "Miranda!" She heard Harry yell.

He tried to get to her, scrambling over rubble, but Nagini's tail was lashing near him, making it dangerous. Miranda laid helpless in her jaw, "No! Harry! Run!" She yelled, the pain searing through her, making it hard to breathe. "She's his! He'll be coming! Leave me! Go!"

Hermione was closer to Miranda, and had gotten to a relatively safe place where she could see the other girl's face, "We won't leave you!"

Miranda cried out in pain when Nagini locked her jaw in place, the sharp fangs sinking deeper into Miranda's shoulder, releasing toxins into her body. She was sobbing, her heart breaking, "You have to go! Take Harry and leave! Please!"

Hermione stared a Miranda for one unbearably long second before she grabbed Harry, pulling on him as Death Eaters began to arrive. He struggled against Hermione, "No! I won't leave her!"

Their eyes linking for just an instant. Blue into green, and Miranda forced all of her grief and pain and love into hers, hoping he understood someday. She mouthed 'I love you' as Hermione cast a knock back jinx at the first solidifying Death Eater. They flew backwards through the window, and apperated mid flight, disappearing with a pop from Miranda's sight.

Heaving in pain, both emotional and physical, Miranda stroked Nagini's head, "I'm sorry, lovely. I didn't mean to confuse you. Let me go now, Nagini." She whispered in Parseltongue. The snake obeyed instantly, coiling around her lovingly, hissing her apologies and greetings.

Miranda sat up, fighting dizziness and holding her shoulder, realizing numbly that her wand was gone, as well as her bag. Her body and mind were at odds trying to figure out what the largest crisis was. Her ravaged shoulder or being apart from Harry and Hermione?

The one voice that had paralyzed her as a child living in Nurmengaurd sounded through the destroyed room, distracting her from both tragedies, "I recognize your scent, little girl. Are you the mudblood Granger?"

Panic filled her. She had to come up with a plan that wouldn't result in her being killed, or, even worse, becoming the plaything the creature before her had desired all those years ago. Priorities were quickly sorted. She had to become steel, to echo the woman Walburga had become in order to keep her son safe. In one vivid instant, Miranda understood the terrible choice her dear friend had made. Miranda had to keep Harry safe, at all costs.

Miranda slid into her new persona with some difficulty. She was not the same girl that had been raised by her adoring and sheltering Papa anymore, she was not the woman who loved Harry James Potter more than her own life and was loved equally in return. The darkness she sometimes felt rising inside needed to protect her now. She was the girl who had been raised by Gellert Grindelwald the evil wizard, and the woman who had wooed Harry Potter, Public Enemy Number 1. They could make their own assumptions about her ruined relationship with Harry. Probably that she'd seduced him just to play with him like a cat does a mouse. This was the only way she could keep him safe.

She forced herself to stand, thinking it was a good thing that she was wearing Fleur's dress. It made her look taller, more regal, and in her current state, she would need to be as intimidating as possible. Her voice was silky, mirroring the tone she instinctively used while speaking Parseltongue, "Fenrir, I'm hurt. You don't remember me?"

He looked her over, but was interrupted when the rest of the Death Eaters joined them. Instantly, Miranda was forced to her knees, a wand at the back of her neck. She cried out when one of the brutes pressed his hand unknowingly onto the snake bite.

"Let her go!" Fenrir yelled, seeming to compute where he had seen her before.

"Wha'?" Said the scruffy looking one behind her.

"I said let her go!" Fenrir said, panicking, and hitting the scruffy man away from her.

Miranda laughed as she stood, low and dark, covering up her terror as best as she could with words that didn't feel at all like her own, "Good dog, I see you aren't totally a mutt."

"You-you're Miranda, aren't you?" He said, looking at her, scared.

"Yes, I am. I'm glad you respect my father enough to not treat me like your common capture." She drawled, brushing the hand of her uninjured arm down the dress to smooth what wrinkles she could. She couldn't do a thing about all the blood though.

"Greyback, who the bloody hell is this chit?" Said 'Scruffy Man'.

Fenrir growled at him, "She's Gellert Grindelwald's daughter! I met her when she was just a little delicate morsel."

Morsel. Miranda spent a split second in her head, remembering the first time he had seen her. She sucked in a breath, managing to make it sound like an impatient sigh before she spoke more condescendingly than she ever had in her life, "Now, now, Fenrir, let's not lie. You did not meet me. You tried to eat me. You're actually very lucky my father chose to let you leave Nurmengaurd with your life." She said, petting Nagini to distract herself. The snake had brought her wand to her, the piece of holly held gently between her powerful jaws. "Take me to Voldemort." Miranda commanded.

The instant she uttered the name, more Death Eaters descended. One shot a spell at her, and she acted on a deep hidden instinct, whipping her wand in his direction, a spell she didn't know she knew flicking to the forefront of her mind.

The man was dead before his body hit the ground.

She wanted to feel sad about it, but she was drained. Spells were so bloody hard on her and she was exhausted already. Nagini's venom was coursing through her, and her body had to fight it off. Only she wasn't mentally prepared for the fight. It didn't help that the bite wound itself was bubbling blood down both sides of her dress.

Nagini cushioned her fall.