Last time...

"My apologies for keeping your son for so long, Lord Malfoy." Hera said as she gave a slight bow. The three had met in the lobby of Gringotts, along with Tony, Sirius, Ron and Hermione.

"That's quite alright. Lady Potter. Draco promised a return on a surprising venture he wished to investigate before discussing it with me." Lucius allowed with a nod to her.

"Well, I don't know what that was, but you are currently looking at one of the only known humans to ever set foot in the realm of dwarves." Hera insisted, clapping Draco on the shoulder. Lucius' eyes went wide. "Can't say it was for a peaceable trip, but we certainly got what we went for."

"Ragnok will be glad of that." Griphook announced. "He's been beside himself since your last meeting."

Once in the meeting room, which she'd invited everyone there to come with her, she began unloading all that they'd managed to abscond with. It was quite a bit more than she'd anticipated. Ragnok's eyes grew wide when he saw not only ingots, but equipment as well, all shrank down to manageable sizes for them. While goblins had a thing against stealing, they viewed retribution as something set by the individual, and this had been hers. However, she hadn't thought only of herself with this; She'd thought of her friends, her fellow students; She'd thought of the Goblin Nation.

"So, what do you think?" Hera asked, once everything had been unloaded. "Will this be enough?"

"If you were not Goblin Friend before, Lady Potter," Ragnok managed, his voice think with some great emotion she could not identify, his fist clutched to his chest in what she'd learned was a sign of deepest respect and gratitude. "you would be now."

Chapter 64

1995/ 5th Year

There was the nagging feeling that something was wrong the moment that they boarded the train. It continued all throughout the train ride, and up until Hagrid was to call for the First Years, and Hera took heart that everyone she knew was wearing some form of protection magic on their person; thanks to some quick craftsmanship by the goblins and an exceptionally fast owl post. Except…Hagrid wasn't there. A woman Hera couldn't immediately recognize was calling for the First Years instead. As they separated to go to their different tables, Hera couldn't help feeling like this year was going to be even more tumultuous than she'd anticipated.

She'd known that Hagrid was a part of the Order, but she'd still expected him to be there, and the hat's song of warning did nothing to make her feel better. That Hagrid wasn't was there was…concerning, however, there was something a bit more immediately disturbing in her view. Professor Snape was sitting next to the most concentrated amount of PINK Hera'd ever seen in her whole life; so much so in fact that the word needed to be in all caps; PINK. If the man ever had a nemesis, that woman was it. That had to be Dolores Umbridge, the woman Amelia wanted her to watch, the woman that had sent the Dementors after her.

"We need to come up with another level; something above Mad Eye and Shiny Teeth." Hera stated idly; torn between watching Snape trying to repel Umbridge by sheer loathing alone, and eating her food.

"What about 'Pink Menace'?" Hermione suggested, clarifying when Draco looked confused. "Hera's been rating her danger senses. There's a list. I'll show you after we guide the First Years."

"Is it always accurate?" Theo asked from down the table a ways, somewhat quieter than he'd been before. What his father did had been hard on him, as was quickly learning on the fly all the things he needed to know to be the Head of his House.

"Always, though I would love to know what happened to Lockhart." Hermione mused. "Never did work that one out."

Hera suddenly became quite interested in her pumpkin juice.

"So, after the thing with Gringotts, I told my father about what happened." Draco commented.

"And?" Hera wondered what the man's reaction would be.

"I got a lecture on how reckless and irresponsible it was." Draco shrugged. "Considering he also told me he was proud of me, I'll take it."

"Did you tell your mother?" She asked, grinning slyly.

"I left that task to Father." He admitted with a grimace. "I'd rather avoid the fallout for that for as long as possible, thanks."

Hermione and Hera both snickered at him.

"I tried telling mine before we left, but I don't think they understood." Hermione sighed. "I explained it rather well, but considering I also explained at length how reckless and irresponsible it was, they figured I'd already done a good enough job lecturing myself that they didn't feel the need to add anything."

That amused Draco and Hera greatly.

"Wonder what Ron told his mum." Hera mused. "They did go in that soundproofed room for a bit. He looked pale when he walked out of there, but he's always pale, so…"

"Just so long as she isn't also yelling at us." Hermione shrugged. Both Draco and Hera look at Hermione expectantly. "What? Of course, she was going to yell at him. It's sort of her default setting for anger, worry, panic, frustration, and well…you get the idea."

"Speaking of worrying our mother." Fred commented, coming from down the way a bit to sit next to Hera, handing her a bit of parchment. "What do you think of the sign?"

GALLEONS OF GALLEON!

Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?

Like to earn a little extra gold?

Contact Fred and George Weasley,

Slytherin common room,

for simple part-time, virtually painless jobs

(WE REGRET THAT ALL WORK IS UNDERTAKEN AT APPLICANT'S OWN RISK)

"Nice. Virtually painless doesn't necessarily negate all possible pain or harm." Hera noted, slightly impressed. "I would recommend an age limit; no First Years, at least until Beta testing. You'll know more by then. Hermione?"

She passed the parchment to Hermione to look over.

"As much as I don't like this, and I really don't like this, there are technically no rules against it." Hermione sighed grudgingly. "No testing on the First Years, or I'll look the other way when Hera goes after you for experimenting on children."

Fred gulped, and nodded before heading back to George.

"You wouldn't…really…look the other way, would you?" Hera asked in surprise, understanding dawning on her when Hermione began to grin.

"No, but they don't know that." Hermione replied, the grin on her face getting wider.

"And here I thought I knew you, Granger." Draco teased.

...

Everyone is talking about what they did over the summer, but with Slytherin it was always going to Balls thrown by the others' parents. With Fred, George, Hera and Hermione, it was something else altogether, and most of those around them took full advantage of asking them all about their summers; if only to hear something new. Hera's were vague half answers they all hoped she would elaborate on more in private, though many were theorizing she'd learned about muggle explosives from her brother, while Hermione's were tentative and hopeful as she described the places she and her family had traveled; Fred and George were conspiring with a few of them on just what they'd been experimenting with when it came to their prank supplies. There were quite a few who Draco wouldn't have expected to ask about the muggle world that did, or something in it, that either Hera or Hermione brought up. He had no doubt that was due in part to her ability to get rid of the Dark Mark, and the parents she had inevitably saved because of that.

"Hermione, whatever is about to happen," Hera spoke softly, though it cut through the conversation easily enough, interrupting one of Hermione's stories of her summer. "I need you to let it."

"Hera?"

"Hem, hem."

Everyone at the table froze.

"I wasn't aware that Inter-House fraternizing was allowed for an official feast." The woman stated, after what was supposed to be a girlish giggle.

"It isn't." Hera replied evenly, but Draco could see the corner of her lips tilt up in what was sure to become a shark like grin; like she could smell blood in the water.

"Then what are Gryffindors doing at this table?" Umbridge asked, feigning confusion as she looked around at them all. "Surely-"

"I believe you are mistaken, Professor." Hera continued, interrupting the woman, and now Draco was sure of it. The tilt of her lips was just a touch more noticeable now; blood in the water, indeed. "Everyone at this table is Slytherin."

"You were sorted into Gryffindor!"

"I was."

"Then you should sit with your House!"

"I am."

The words, so quietly spoken, rang out with finality. Hera was not going to let this go, but it appeared that the overly pink professor wasn't about to back down either.

"I am the teacher, you are the student, and you will do what you're told! Now, sit in your rightful place!" The woman shrieked, making nearby students wince.

The shark like grin was back, even as Hera replied almost indulgently. "Very well. If you feel this strongly about it, Professor, I shall sit in my 'rightful' place."

There was something in the way she'd said that, and Draco wasn't quite sure what she was implying, at least not until Uncle Severus froze in his seat at the Head Table. That's when it hit him. Hera was an Apprentice. Her rightful place was with her Master, but both Hera and Uncle Sev had felt it best she sit with her house in order to bond with them more. The others watched her with hurt and confusion, and then dawning understanding, as Hera made her way to the Head Table. She acted like it was nothing to sit next to Uncle Sev, where Umbridge had been, cautiously picking through the food to make herself a plate; that Uncle Sev didn't seem to know what to do, though he doubted anyone else could see that, was an added bonus.

…

"What do you think you're doing?" Severus hissed under his breath, unable to come to terms with what he'd just witnessed.

"Assembling a plate of food. What does it look like I'm doing?" Potter retorted, in much the same volume, before turning her head slightly towards him. "She told me to sit in my rightful place, and so I am. Why are you complaining? This saves you from the Pink Menace…Unless you want her to sit next to you? The two of you could have bigoted homicidal contrary babies together or something, if you're into that. I could always leave, you know."

"Don't you dare." Severus hissed back, not willing to acknowledge that he was all but begging his apprentice to protect him from that foul woman. She'd made more than a few unwanted advances on his person already, and he internally shuddered to think how many more he'd have to endure if Potter were to make good on her threat to leave.

"Forget James Potter. This woman is your real arch nemesis." Potter commented, clearly amused. "I mean, that much pink is clearly an insult to eyes everywhere. You actually looked like you were trying to eviscerate her with your glare alone."

"Hem, hem!" Both of them looked over to see Dolores glaring at Potter from across the table. The woman actually stomped her foot onto the floor like an angry toddler. "What do you think you're doing? That's my seat!"

"Actually, I think you'll find that it's mine." Potter's voice rang out over the Great Hall as she stood, calm and quiet though it was. Clearly, the other students wanted to hear this. It would never be so quiet otherwise. "I am Professor Snape's Apprentice, and an apprentice always sits to the left of their master. How unfortunate for you that he chose to sit at the end of the table, and that you can not resume your previous seat. However, you have no one to blame but yourself, Professor. You are, after all, the one who ordered me to sit in my rightful place."

...

While Filius didn't have much to do with the Underground day-to-day events specifically, having chosen to do his part in the fight above ground as a teacher of young minds, he had felt it when the magic of the Underground began to sing through Hogwarts. It wasn't the same as when his King came to call, but it was oppressive in its own right. Only when the students began pouring in did Filius realize it was coming from one of their own. Almost without thought, his eyes found Hera Potter – now among the Slytherin – realizing she was the source of the power he'd felt before. He'd noticed that each year she seemed to grow in power, but to feel it now…

He watched as Dolores made her first move, trying to challenge the young Lady Potter's seating, when he saw it. That smirk. If that smirk hadn't been the thing to draw in his king, he'd eat the Sorting Hat. The way her eyes gleamed as she found the loophole in Dolores' orders only cemented it for him. When it was clear that Dolores planned to sit next to young Lady Potter, intent on continuing her inquisition, Filius decided to make his move. Apologizing to his fellow colleagues for the abrupt departure, Filius swiftly made his way to the seat Dolores would have angled for. From the subtle grin the young lady was sporting, she knew he'd done it on purpose.

Dolores huffed at being sidelined, mumbling about inconsiderate half-breeds under her breath as she went to the seat he had vacated. They continued to make small talk as if they hadn't heard, but he noticed the look Potter gave the woman when her back was to them. He'd not expected to see the ring on her right index finger. That was the subtle mark of royalty; the ring with the Goblin King's insignia, the sign of his House. He had heard that a princess had been chosen, but he'd heard no word of who the princess was. It appeared that quite a lot had happened over the summer for young Miss Potter.

Later on that evening...

Sitting in the dimly let office of his new Head of House, Neville had never been more scared out of his mind, and he'd faced down his Gran! Hera had hit him with an extra strength calming charm before the door had even closed, but he wasn't sure it was going to hold. Professor Snape had called him into the office, and he knew it wasn't going to be good. Not even the first day of school, and he was already in trouble. Professor Snape didn't seem to be in a hurry, and Neville had the sudden fear that he'd been waiting for Hera's calming charm to wear off, a fact that was confirmed when he looked up from his papers once Neville began fidgeting.

"Mr Longbottom, why did you have yourself resorted into my House?" Snape asked without preamble. "You fear me, and with good reason. I have berated you at length in front of your peers. I have threatened to poison your familiar, and you, on more than one occasion, and yet…Here you are, in my House, despite the fact that I'm your boggart. Why?"

Did he dare tell him?

"The only reason the Hat put me in Gryffindor in the first place was because I begged it." Neville admitted, surprising himself by not stuttering with how nervous he was. "I was too afraid of what my family would do to me if it didn't. I didn't want to admit that to anyone, not then, and the Hat promised not to say anything."

"And now?" Snape asked, his face unreadable.

"Now, it doesn't matter." Neville shrugged. "I'm in the House I was always supposed to be in, and my family has backed off because Hera spoke with Gran."

Snape snorted; actually shorted. He could do that?

"That's one way of putting it." Snape remarked dryly. "The way it was told to me, Potter berated that woman in front of Merlin and everyone for her treatment of you. It's believed that the only reason formal charges weren't filed is because you didn't wish for them to be, and Potter didn't press it."

Neville couldn't help but blush in embarrassment.

"To that end, I fear I too must make an apology. Do not interrupt, because I am only going to say this once, and then it will never be spoken of again." Snape stated sternly. Hold up. Did he say apology? "There was a chance it could have been you, that many of the things happening to Miss Potter now could be happening to you. You could have been targeted by the Dark Lord, simply by virtue of your day of birth. I took out my anger on you, because it wasn't you, and because it was easier to blame you than to accept blame for what I'd done. And before you ask, no, I won't be telling you what that was."

"This is just self preservation so Hera doesn't roast you too, isn't it?" Neville accused, surprised that it had even come out of his mouth.

"I will not deny that plays a part. You need not know what else motivates it, only that it is genuine." Snape replied, not denying it. He really needed a way to preserve this memory. There was no way he wanted to forget this. "Now, what you do with that knowledge is up to you. You certainly deserve to hold a grudge if you wish, though from personal experience, I wouldn't recommend it. It's certainly done me no favors."

"Fair." Neville allowed, thinking it over, and coming to a decision quickly. "I'm not saying it will be immediate, but I could try. You don't plan on being that awful anymore, do you?"

"Do not expect me to hold your hand to stop you disastrous attempts at brewing, Longbottom." Snape warned.

"Wasn't expecting that, but a bit of genial civility might be nice. You make me nervous when you're all…grrrr..., and well…that's why the explosions happen." Neville pointed out.

Snape grimaced, like he was biting down a sneer, before nodding. "I believe we have an accord then, Mr. Longbottom. Now get out of my office. Potter is going to wear a groove in the floor, and I have no desire to trip upon it when leaving this room. Since she is so clearly waiting by the door to check on you, send her in when you leave."