Last time...

"Hera, you're mental." Fred declared in clear disbelief.

"Probably." Hera acknowledged. "You were never bound for the Ministry; and once your mum gets over her own stubbornness, she'll realize that. You're pranksters. You like to make people laugh; sometimes at themselves, sometimes at others, and sometimes at nothing at all. Something tells me we'll need that far more than we ever have before too long. Besides, I don't think the Ministry would be left standing for longer than a week if you two started working there."

"But, Hera…" George objected weakly.

"You'll need a good solid foundation. I assume you have a business plan, and if not then you should really work on one. You'll need testers for your products, though I would recommend staying away from the First Years for reasons, and I would recommend becoming licensed Healers, just to make sure you can fix anything that messes up later." Hera continued. "Plan to go global, boys. I know you can do it."

"But, Hera…" Fred now.

"It's either you take my investment, or I chuck this money out the window right now." Hera replied with a shrug, holding up the bag. "You know me. I have no concept of money. I'll do it, and not think twice about it."

Ron looked like he was gonna have a stroke.

"I'm back!" Draco announced bursting into the compartment with Neville, Blaise, and Pansy. "What's the buy in? Also, why is Potter holding a bag near the window like she's going to throw it out? Please tell me that's not the prize money."

"You might as well accept it." Hermione pointed out, looking over to them. "Think of how many canary creams that is."

Fred and George looked like they didn't know whether to cry or faint, which would sort of explain why the two of them let out what sounded like a sob before promptly passing out.

Chapter 40

Neville had been thinking about this for most of this last term, but he hadn't wanted to chance it while Hera was dealing with everything. Now? Now, he could ask, if he wanted. His Gran wasn't here to cow him. He could be brave when he wanted. He'd proven that much already. He'd watched Hera have to be brave in both big and small ways all year. If he didn't get a move on though, Hera was going to leave before he had the chance.

"Hera, wait…Can I talk to you…alone?" He asked, eyeing Mr. Stark nervously for a fraction of a second, before looking back to her. "Please? It's important."

"Of course, Nev." Hera agreed, seeing how nervous he was.

"I'll just be over here." Mr. Stark gestured, and then left.

"You know about my parents, how they were tortured out of their minds?" Neville reminded her. "They've been in St. Mungo's all this time, and they're not getting any better. They've tried everything."

"What are you asking, Nev?" Hera asked, and then it dawned on her what he could want. "Neville, the mind is a complex organ. I've never done something like that before. What if I mess it up? What if I kill them?"

"The best mind healers in the world haven't been able to help them." Neville tried again. "Why not give sheer dumb luck a shot?"

Hera snorted at that, remembering Professor McGonagall's description of her antics.

"They're worse than dead already." Neville continued, his voice low. "If you can give me back even just a little bit of who they were…They may never be able to take care of me, but I could get to know them, you know? And if you can't help them, if they die, well then…at least they wouldn't be suffering anymore."

She looked at him, as if trying to parse out how dedicated he was to this plan, before nodding. "Alright, Neville, I'll do it. I'll give it a try, under one condition."

"Anything."

"You let me have a crack at your Gran."

"Not that." Neville backtracked. "Anything but that."

"Oh, look, there she is now." Hera continued to deadpan, as if she had not heard him, and Neville had the distinct impression that Hera had thought of that stipulation as soon as she'd seen the woman.

"Don't kill her, Hera. I need somewhere to live." Neville pleaded, following after her. "It's not so bad now. Besides, I like my Gran…mostly. She's not so bad, really."

"I'm not going to kill her." Hera denied, as she made her way through the crowd. Her denial did nothing to alleviate Neville of his worries. "If I did that, you'd end up as a ward of the Ministry, or worse, with Great Uncle Algae, and I would kill him."

They were nearing his Gran now, and Neville clammed up for fear that she would hear what they had been talking about. The woman looked like she'd murdered the vulture on her hat most days, and he couldn't quite get over his fear of it or her in general. As she stared them down, though Hera cheerfully forged on, Neville had the feeling that his gran actually hated Hera. Her glare had become something filled with rage, before being quickly smothered with the general disdain she seemed to hold for most everyone. She didn't put much stock in Skeeter's writings, so he couldn't think of what she'd hate Hera for.

"Neville, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" The woman demanded quietly.

"G-Gran, t-this is H-Hera P-Potter. Hera, this i-is m-my Gran." Neville acquiesced, hating that the stuttering was back around her.

"What did I say about stuttering?" She hissed, before giving Hera her full attention. "It's nice to meet you, Lady Potter."

"Pity that I can't say the same about you, Dowager Longbottom." Hera replied, pinning her with a look. You could have heard a pin drop in that train station.

"What would you know about-"

"I know everything I need to know about you." Hera hissed, cutting her off, and damn if Hera wasn't scarier than his Gran right now. Luna was right, being defended was nice. "You're the foul woman who let her own family hold her grandson out of a second story balcony in the hopes that they could squeeze just a little bit of magic out of him. You're the woman who belittles her own grandson by comparing him to his father, and then saying how he never would have been such a disappointment. You're the woman who refuses to buy Neville his own wand, insisting he shouldn't be so ungrateful, should be honoured, to wield his father's wand; Never mind that the man isn't technically dead, or that a wand works best when it chooses its owner. You're the woman who thought getting Neville a bloody toad would make him forget the years of having to dodge crazy family members trying to trip him into magic so he'd be useful.

How many times did he nearly die because some well meaning family member was trying to surprise him into bouts of accidental magic, instead of letting it flow naturally? How many injuries did he get trying to fend off relatives that were just trying to 'help'? Do you know what you could have done to him? How easily you could have damaged his magical core, or turned him into an obscurus? What if he hadn't bounced when he fell? What if he'd died? Better dead than a squib, is that it?!"

She finally seemed to come back to herself. Both Neville and his Gran are stunned by how voracious Hera was in her defense of him. He'd known Hera had issues with his Gran. She saw Gran's treatment of him as child abuse, and where he didn't quite see it, he wasn't about to tell her that either. The look in her eyes, haunted as it was, told him all he needed to know. She knew what she was talking about, even if it wasn't quite was he was experiencing.

"Sorry I got carried away a bit, Nev." Hera says quietly, looking a little embarrassed now. "Let me know a time later to see what's been done so far, yeah? I'll need to look at that before I attempt anything, and that's a lot of information."

"Sure thing, Hera, and…thanks. It means a lot that you'd want to stand up for me like that." Neville replies back, and the fact that his stutter is gone instantly calls to his Gran's attention. He hadn't had the stutter when talking with Hera, but he had one with her.

"You're my friend, Neville. Of course, I'd stand up for you." Hera insisted, trying not to catch anyone's eye now. "See you later."

When she was gone, he turned back to his gran.

"She's certainly something, isn't she?" His Gran mused, watching Hera leave.

"She was one of the first people to really see me as someone other than Frank's son." Neville stated bluntly, keeping his voice calm, but he could see how much the comment cut her after what Hera had said. "I think…I think we should sit down, and have a real conversation, maybe our first one ever, don't you?"

...

"You okay, Hera?" Tony asked, looking down at the girl. She looked so embarrassed, but still angry in defense of that boy. "Is that your boyfriend or something? Do I have to go over there and have the talk with him?"

"What?" She choked out, coming back to herself. "Neville's my friend, but he's not…No, just no…He's the other possibility, the other kid Moldywarts could have chosen. Some time after the man disappeared, his followers went looking for him, tortured Neville's parents to insanity, thinking that they knew something…They didn't. He's been raised by his Gran this whole time, visiting parents who don't know him, and dodging family members trying to scare him into bouts of accidental magic. I just…I wanted them to see him. You know?"

"You into girls? Boys? Both? Do you care? Are you not interested in anyone, or is it a wait and see sort of deal?" Tony asked, now curious for some odd reason. "It's cool, whatever, but I figured best to get the awkward conversations out of the way while we can."

"I don't know. I haven't had the time to really think about it, Tony." Hera sighed, looking annoyed and embarrassed in equal measure now, so that was an improvement. "When I was with the Dursleys, I didn't dare even try to make friends, let alone have a crush on someone. They would have bullied them too, so it was best not to think about it at all. When I started going to school, Snort-a-Wart started trying to kill me, and it's not like anyone has really caught my attention. Can I wait until after he's dead to think about it?"

"You really want to put your life on hold that long?" Tony countered, wondering if he should tell her what he knows. "That might take a while."

"Point. Okay…" She looks up, seeming to think about it, before he saw her eyes light up with a hint of mischief. "I like…Quidditch players."

Tony snorts. "Really? Magical Athletes do it for you?"

"It's their hands, you see." Hera replies cheekily. "Do you realize how artful a quidditch player's hands have to be? You know; rough hands, firm grip, and all that."

"Okay, I know enough! I know enough!" Tony insisted in mock alarm, sticking his fingers in his ear, running around halfheartedly. "Lalalalalala!"

"Oh, come on, Tony. You said you wanted to know." Hera teased. "How am I supposed to come to you with questions about older men, and what goes where, if you've got your pinkies in your ears?"

Tony stopped short, unable to believe his ears. "Older…what goes…That's it, you're being locked in a tower or something!"

"They really used to do that, you know." She snickered at him. "Also, not that I want to, but think about this in a few years…If I can't sleep with anything that moves, why can you?"

"Because I'm a slut, and you're supposed to be better than me, that's why." Tony declared, before realizing what he'd just said. "I mean…"

"It's okay, Tony, it's better that you know what you are than to be in denial about it." Hera replied sagely, patting his shoulder. "Knowing is half the battle."

"Brat." He chuckled, and then changed the subject. "How do you feel about going to the US with me?"

"Does it have to be right away?" Hera asked, a bit hesitant. "I have to do some shopping on this side of things, and it would help if we went to the Ministry too. They could tell me where the Wizarding things are in whatever part of the US we go to, and I just know they're going to cause problems at some point. I promised Fred and George that I'd invest in their joke shop, and Neville that I would look at his parents minds for him, and there's a small group of parents that want help with tattoo removal. I sort of…planned for things as if you would just be dropping me off at the Dursleys, even though you said you wouldn't, because I'm just so used to having to run away from there just to do things like shop or go to school. Merlin, that sounds awful now that I say it out loud like that."

"I was wondering, because I know you're going to have to touch base with your Potions Professor where he's your Master." Tony admitted, but the word left a funny taste in his mouth, and he couldn't help himself. "Is it weird that they still do Master Apprentice thing, or is that normal?"

"If you want to be considered a Master of the subject, an expert, then you have to apprentice with someone. I suppose you could consider it like getting your Masters Degree, though more focused. Not everyone goes that route though. Most don't consider it necessary, but I know Hermione is talking with a few professors about Mastery options. Professor Snape is a Master in multiple subjects, so she'll probably talk to him at some point too. He already holds her to a higher standard than everyone else." Hera explained, then looked over at him slyly. "Why?"

"No reason!" Tony squeaked, sensing things were about to get into uncomfortable territories he wasn't ready for yet. "What do you want for dinner? Italian? Chinese? Do you have a favorite?"

"I don't think I've ever had anything than what the Dursleys considered normal food, and Hogwarts doesn't exactly have a wide variation." Hera admitted after some thought. "When I started shopping for my own food, I didn't really know what to get, so I just got the same things as before. Recently, I got to experience French and Bulgarian cuisines. How much more am I missing out on?"

"So much, Kid, you have no idea." Tony insisted, knowing exactly what they were going to do now.

"What am I looking at?" Draco asked, surveying the scene before him.

His mother had come to get him from the station alone, something that had not happened before. Her eyes had held a secret humour in them that he didn't understand, and now that he was home he was even more confused. There were House Elves here in the Manor that he did not recognize. Had they acquired new help while he was away? Draco wracked his brain for some sort of clue, but then he realized there was one House Elf that looked like it had his father's eye colour, and he lost it.

"I see even my own son finds humour in my situation then." The House Elf in question haughtily sniffed. "I do not see what is being so funny."

"Really? You can't see it?" Draco wheezed through his laughter. "Personally, I think this is hilarious! How long have you been like this?"

"Almost immediately after he got home." His mother answered, when it was clear his father would not be, amusement ringing in her voice. "Perhaps your friend would be amendable to turning him back?"

"She's not left for the states yet, so maybe." Draco replied, agreeing that it was probably for the best, though this was amusing. "I think the place Stark is staying in has a Floo."

...

"Tony, I think we're going to have to go to the Ministry sooner rather than later!" Hera called out, before going back to staring into her trunk.

She'd opened it to sort out the new clothes Tony had insisted on buying her in muggle London. What she was faced with was a somehow shrunken down Jör, snoozing in her trunk. She hadn't even known basilisks could shrink like this. Hadn't he been Salazar's familiar? A protector of the school? She had thought that meant he couldn't leave it, but here he was in her trunk, cuddling the warding stones she'd been working on. To be fair, they did have a certain heat to them.

"What are you doing in there?" Hera hissed, and not just because she was speaking parseltongue. "How did you even get in there?"

~I can't believe you even have to ask those questions~ Jör replied lazily, sliding out of the trunk. ~It's like you don't even know me~

"Well, I didn't know you could do this!" Hera insisted, waving her hand at him. "I thought you were a protector of Hogwarts. What are you doing in my trunk?"

~You didn't visit me~ Jör replied, petulantly, as he made his way around her waist and wrapping himself around it and her shoulders. ~Your house elves brought me food, and relayed news of what was happening to you, but you did not visit me. I found it unacceptable~

"There was a spy about Hogwarts. I didn't want her to know about you." Hera argued. "I was trying to keep you safe. If she had escaped, what then? A team of wizards would have forced me to open the Chamber, and then you'd be dead via chicken. Is that how you want to go?"

~I am not so easily killed that a cock's crow could do me in, Little Speaker~ Jör scolded, now resting his head against her neck.

"I didn't know that either." Hera replied, pouting. "Now what are we going to do?"

~You are mine, Little Speaker. I will go where you go from now on. The Chamber is simply my nest while you are at school~

Well that was certainly news.

"Have you talked to Hedwig about another Familiar?" Tony asked, having watched the conversation from the door for the last little bit.

"Uh…" Hera fumbled, feeling a bit caught out. What was it other kids said in this type of situation? "He followed me home, can I keep him?"

"You're ridiculous, Kid. How are you even holding all that? He has to weigh a ton." Tony chortled, not acknowledging her question. "Also, why am I not dead?"

"What?" Hera asked dumbly.

"That's a basilisk, right? XXXXX dangerous creature, known wizard killer, can not be domesticated, wrapped around you like a wet spaghetti noodle, and looking strangely like he's sulking." Tony noted, gesturing towards her. "I read about them in this book by Newt Scamander, who I think secretly wanted one, because he was really particular with the details of how to breed them. Males have that scarlet feather on their head, but the book said they were green. This one is silver though."

~I like this one too. I think I shall keep you both~ Jör commented, snuggling into her neck.

"He likes you too. Says he'll keep us both." Hera relayed.

"Nice to be liked by the thing that can potentially kill and eat me." Tony remarked wryly, causing Jör to hiss in laughter. "What's his name?"

~I am Jörmungandr – the world serpent, but he can call me Jör, as you do~

"You're who?!" Hera hissed, jerking back, hauling Jör's body up enough that his head was in front of her. "When were you planning on telling me this?"

~You did not appear ready enough to know, or I would have told you sooner~ Jör shrugged, if a basilisk could shrug. ~You have begun integrating who you were with who you are now, so I felt it safe enough to tell you. And yes, before either of you asks, I am that Jörmungandr. No, I am not Loki's child, before he asks. Loki found me as a young hatchling, and Odin cast me out; thinking I would cause his end. Do not worry, I will not force you to be who you were, and I will protect you from Odin should it ever be needed~

"You just want the chance to eat him." Hera grumbled, unsure what else to say. Jör went back to snuggling her neck, having to readjust how he had himself wrapped around her waist and shoulders, his tail hanging down to drape across her outer thigh and hip. "He says his name is Jörmungandr. We can call him Jör. Hedwig, you're not secretly…I dunno…Huginn or Muninn are you?"

The snowy owl on her perch turned up her beak at that, and looked away.

"Sorry. Jör's being ridiculous." Hera cooed, hoping to appease her. "You don't mind sharing me with him, do you?"

The two Familiars looked at each other like they were sizing each other up to eat, before finally deciding to rub each other's faces in acceptance.

"Well, now that that's been decided." Tony chuckled at the incredulousness of it all. "Ministry visit tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah…" Hera sighed.

"Potter!" A familiar voice called from the living room. "My father's a House Elf. What did you do?"

"I swear my life was boring at one point." Hera commented, as Tony started laughing again. "Honest."