Thimi looked around the corner, sure to keep herself unseen, as she watched her family enter the foyer. Dobby had spoken highly of the young man and her kind mistress had made him her brother in blood. She hoped that he wouldn't mind that she was a part of the Granger household when they told him about her. She knew that they had their reasons for not telling Harry Potter about Thimi. She was reassured many times that they were not ashamed of her. She was a proud member of the Ancient and Noble house of Granger.

Hermione looked in her direction, somehow just knowing she was there. The curly haired witch subtly tilted her head in a jerky motion towards the kitchen. The small house-elf understood the signal and went to wait in the kitchen.

Abagail noticed her daughter's movements and gently guided Harry towards the kitchen.

"Harry, we have someone we want you to meet," Abagail said gently.

Harry's pace slowed with slight trepidation, "Who?"

"Don't worry, she's family. But we keep her a secret for safety reasons," she replied.

He furrowed his brows in confusion wondering if it was for the safety of the family or for the family member. Now knowing that the Granger family was high profile and well to do he was sure they had more than a few secrets and safety precautions.

Taking a wayward step to bump into his shoulder, Hermione grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Squeezing back Harry smiled and let his sister drag him into an open spaced kitchen towards the large table. She made sure he sat next to her, away from the end of the table. The only one with the chair out from under the table.

They all took seats at the sides of the table instead of one at the end and made themselves comfortable. The kitchen light was dimmed, but comfortably so.

Harry looked towards the doorway they just entered wondering if the person would be coming in after them. With his nerves making him anxious he looked at his sister who just shook her head and looking at the end of the table. Curious now at what she was looking at, or looking for he stared hard in the direction she was looking in. Hermione was many things, but she wasn't crazy nor was she a fool.

"Harry… meet Thimi," Abagail said quietly, her voice was warm and soothing.

As soon as her name left the Granger matriarch's tongue, Thimi appeared soundlessly, her disillusion dispelling like a wisp of smoke. She was nervous, but thrilled with how she was being introduced to the newest family member. It was a little discombobulating since she was still a house-elf and used to certain ways, but her family was unusual in traditional aspects concerning the wizarding-elf relationship. She knew the original agreement like many house-elves, but after a hundred years they had resigned themselves to the eventual mistreatment after the third generation started assuming more and listening less.

"Hello, Master Harry, I is – I am Thimi. I serve the Ancient and Noble house of Granger. It is a great honor to serve such a wonderful family," she said with a shy smile.

The wizard's eyebrows furrowed tightly looking at Thimi closely, "Hello, Thimi. Would you happen to be related to Winky? Your eyes and nose are practically the same."

A small frown slid onto Hermione's face at his question, but decided to let Thimi answer it however she wanted.

The little house-elf flushed in response, immediately looking down and wringing her hands self-consciously. She fidgeted in her seat before looking back up at the young wizard.

"Thimi was once Winky before sh – I started serving the Grangers."

Harry frowned at her response knowing how miserable Winky was, practically drinking herself to death. She was unkempt, filthy, and full of self-loathing all the while crying about how she was a bad elf and wanted nothing more than to serve the Crouch's again. Sitting in the chair before him now was a house-elf that reminded him of slightly of Dobby, self-respecting and happy with how his life was now. She wasn't as exuberant as Dobby, but it was clear that she was happy as she was a far cry different from the last time he saw her. Seeing her wearing clothes though made him slightly suspicious.

"Thimi, do you still want to serve the Crouchs?" he asked, looking hard at the small elf. Hermione had to bite her tongue as she glared at her brother out of the corner of her eye.

Thimi frowned, aware that he was still not told of her old boy master's part in their lives, but responded anyways, "Thimi does miss her old family, they were her home and family since birth, but she is extremely happy serving for her new family now. I willingly bonded myself to Mistress Hermione and her magic accepted me. I would do anything for my Mistress."

"What if Crouch said he would take you back?" Harry pressed.

"Thimi is a proud member of the Ancient and Noble house of Granger. Old master Crouch and old young boy master cannot have Thimi. Thimi belongs to Mistress Hermione and the House of Granger," she replied folding her arms as though his questions were insulting and annoying.

In that simple action though, Harry recognized his sister's behavior. Thimi was annoyed, but dealing with his persistent questions only to calm his nerves and emotions.

"Oh… why are you wearing clothes?"

"Thimi does not wear clothes, Master Harry. Thimi wears a uniform since being presentable at all times is an order," she pouted, "Mistress insisted on buying Thimi cloth."

His lips quirked up, "It's nice to see you're doing better, Thimi."

Thimi beamed at Harry Potter, newest member of the Ancient and Noble house of Granger.

Severus had returned to his childhood home and was about to kick off his boots when he felt the burning fire in his Death Mark.

He waved arm and summoned his cloak and mask, quickly putting them on before putting his wand to his mark and letting it whisk him away to the Dark Lord.

Once he landed, he bent onto one knee and let his mental shields snap into place like an elastic band. They glimmered softly like the sheer shower curtains he had in his house, barely noticeable. Voldemort knew about them, but Severus always told the Dark Lord that it was to save him the trouble of sifting through memories of his sexual encounters.

Before he switched sides it was the truth, and he proved it to his lord by letting down his shields allowing the twisted dark wizard to see all the debauchery he had been involved in up until that date. His… unique tastes intrigued the older wizard, but also left him feeling uncomfortable and self-conscious. He had left Severus's shields alone since then.

Severus assumed it had to do with growing up in the 1930s. However he was simply glad that out of all the Dark Lord's 'discrepancies' he wasn't a voyeur. It was obvious he enjoyed what could be considered a little burlesque, from the way Bellatrix flaunted her breasts and flitted around him.

Bellatrix was sadistic, it was no secret that she enjoyed it a little too much. Still even when she was enjoying herself, putting on private torture shows for the inner circle, she only showed but so much skin in teasing flashes, nothing that could be considered truly indecent. Only her wanton behavior.

Growing up in the 1970s, a decade well known for the sexual revolution had benefited him at least in some way. While the magical community was ahead of the muggles in some aspects pertaining to social acceptances of sexual liberties, the older generations were still private and conservative about it. The witch hunts were a small factor. It was more the half-bloods and muggleborns who lived in the muggle world bringing their knowledge with them. That and a few of the more daring and rebellious purebloods who had somehow obtained copies of the Kama Sutra...

"My Lord."

"Sseverusss, I'm so glad you could join us. Rise."

The thin wizard slowly rose to his usual imposing stance, keeping his hands by his sides.

"Luciusss here has informed me that royalty has graced the walls of Hogwarts with magical blood."

Severus's eyes quickly flashed over to his blond haired friend before returning to Voldemort.

"Yes, my Lord. I only recently found out myself at the end of Pettigrew's trial. It was Lucius who told me."

"He told me that his son has slighted the young Lady with his misinformation. Tell me… how much has the Malfoy heir distanced himself from her?"

Severus could see Lucius's spine go rigid at the question.

"He has… caused a rift that would be hard to overcome. He has ridiculed her for her upbringing and her appearance up until last year."

"I ssseee. It would appear that the youngest Malfoy should be reminded how to properly treat the fairer sex. Regardless of proper beliefs, he should have a public face of indifference pertaining to witches. Going out of his way to be cruel to a young lady… is it only her, Severus?"

Severus almost hesitated, "Yes, my Lord. While he is an opportunist in taunting his fellow unbecoming students, he goes out of his way for Potter and the rest of Dumbledore's golden trio. A Weasley and muggleborn Lady Granger."

The wizard waited with baited breath, hoping he had worded it well enough that it would keep his godson from being in too much trouble. The damage was already done, even if the young heir didn't know it. If it weren't for his apprentice being of royal blood he was sure that it would have flown under the Dark Lord's notice.

"I see… with it being put in perspective I suppose it was only his youth clouding hisss judgement. Potter is a thorn in my sside and the Malfoy heir sshowing disssdain for Potter and his friendsss iss what I would encourage," he paused raising his thin pale hand to his face, "Luciuss, tell your sson to make amendsss with the young lady. He may continue his treatment towards the others, but it would be easssier to get on her good side if he stopped."

Lucius's spine relaxed, "Yes, My Lord. I'll see to it right away."

"While you are here Severus, have you any newsss?" he asked lightly.

The professor internally steeled himself.

"Yes, My Lord. After I was made aware of Lady Granger's true background I began to contemplate her potential. It was with great deliberation that I decided to offer her an apprenticeship with me," he took a calming breath, "She accepted."

The silence was almost deafening. Staring at his friend with a bright light in his grey eyes that bordered on awe, Lucius was filled with a brotherly pride. He had taken Severus under his wing when they were at Hogwarts together and had helped cultivate his friend. It was in this moment that his dark haired friend's ambition was shining like a beacon.

Voldemort stared at his spy impressed, trying to decide whether to be pleased or not with his choice of action. The dark wizard weighed the pros and cons before deciding. He knew that his spy was secretive, even before he joined his side as a Knight. The potions professor's knowledge was his prize possession having grown up desolate and poor. The witch would have to be brilliant for his spy to deem her worthy, royalty or not.

"Severus," he paused, "You have done well. She is now under your wing, your protection, and you will fill her with all of your knowledge. Knowledge that you have guarded fiercely. You have finally decided to share it with someone who is sure to be worthy. I am proud of you."

The dark eyed wizard held his breath waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I know that an apprenticeship relationship is sacred. One of the most prestigious in our world. When she is ready… when you feel she is ready, as her master, I would like to meet her. It is an occasion that must be celebrated."

Ice filled Severus's veins even as he forced his lips to quirk upwards.

"The honor shall be ours, My Lord," he replied, bowing his head in deference.

The words flowed off his tongue like silk, but left an aftertaste that resembled ash. He knew it was a possibility but had hoped that the Dark Lord wouldn't entertain the idea for some time. The Duke and Duchess had somehow been aware of the protection he could offer from both sides. At least Hermione entered the apprenticeship with full knowledge of his position before she accepted. She knew what she was getting into, especially as the body guard of Potter.

Sitting alone in his office, glaring at the fire, Albus was appraising the situation that had thrown a niffler into his design.

'I have to find a way to bring Harry back under my influence. His galleons are needed just as much as his sacrifice. It's the only way for the wizarding world to win the war.'

Fawkes watched his wizard under the guise of preening his feathers. As an orphaned chick he was grateful to the wizened man who had cared for him. It was for that reason that he had stuck by his side even as the wizard walked a dangerous and shady path. Until a dark magic started to caress his person, Fawkes would stay with him. Even as a misguided wizard, Albus was doing what he thought was best for the Greater Good.

Barty was sitting in his holding cell waiting for the final decision on what was to happen to him. They kept his hand and ankle cuffs on to prevent any attempts of escape he may have considered. He didn't have much faith knowing he would either be sent to die surrounded by dementors in Azkaban or given the kiss. He waited until the aurors had left him before allowing himself to cry. Merlin had gifted him a little bit of happiness in the form of his pupil. Now that he was back in Ministry custody and waiting the verdict of how he was to die, he cried.

Barty had wanted to live, but he was also grateful that he had been able to do something good before he died. Only two people would ever know, but at least someone would remember him as something other than a criminal. Someone would remember that he was innocent and did his part in helping take down the Dark Lord.

"Thank you, Lady Granger… no. Thank you, Hermione. Whatever happens, you were my saving grace, and I can die happily knowing that the words left my lips, even if you'll never hear them…"

Tears dripped down his face as silent sobs shook his body.

Bartemius Crouch Sr. frowned as he listened to his son cry on the other side of the door. Alastor Moody may be mad, but he wasn't wrong about a dark wizard, and he was right. His son was no dark wizard…

He breathed slowly to calm his nerves and straighten his face before opening the thick metal door.

"Barty, it's time for your trial."

Barty looked up at his dad and nodded, his eyes wet and red before standing up waiting to be led to the courtroom. His father grabbed his arm firmly but not painfully and slowly walked him down the halls of the Ministry.

When they reached the door to the courtroom Crouch Sr. paused.

"Barty, I… I'm not on the panel this time. I'll stand with you, not against you. I love you, son."

Before Barty could respond his father opened the doors and lead him to the chair. The chains slithered around the chair before settling on the back of it. Before he knew it, he was alone in the middle of the room facing the Wizengamot, the Minister, the Minister's Undersecretary, and the head of the DMLE.

He ignored most of the trial not expecting anything but a death sentence. At this point he was sure it was all a simple formality, despite what his father said. He was already an escaped convict, it was a mere miracle that it was a private trial.

They hadn't administered any potions, usually it was because the Wizengamot had already decided what they were going to vote. They hadn't administered anything his last trial either, instead letting his father talk over him. Barely allowing him to defend himself or say anything. Being caught at the scene of the crime with the Lestranges and two incapacitated aurors was enough.

He saw a blur of colors, at least ten different members of the community took the stand either to testify against him or as part of his defense. Barty wasn't sure of which or whom they were, already resigned to his fate.

If he looked up he would have seen the old wizard who had become his friend walk up to the stand as he tuned out the rest of his trial.

"Alastor Moody, you were subject to an imperious curse cast by Bartemius Crouch Jr. Were you not?"

"I may have been," said a gravelly voice with a huff. Barty recognized the voice and looked to see who was on the stand.

"Mr. Moody, we know that you were one of the best aurors in all of Magical Britain. No one will think less of you if you were caught unawares by an unforgivable while in retirement in your own home," Amelia Bones replied.

"Don't ye think if I were unable to throw off a measly imperious during m' time that I'd still be alive!?" He barked at her.

"Mr. Moody we are not questioning your abilities," she said as a few murmurs went up at his response.

"Do ye think if I thought for one moment that I was in danger or there was somethin' serious I wouldn' be able to take care of m'self?" he growled.

Amelia's temple throbbed; while she respected Alastor and knew it was an exemplary auror, he also knew how to get under her skin.

"Then why were you found at the bottom of your trunk at Hogwarts with Bartemius Crouch Jr. posturing as you?" she asked through grit teeth.

"I was fussed about in m' home by Pettigrew and this lad here! If it weren' for him, I'd probably be snake food. He may have pretended to be me, but all he told me to do was 'stay still'. He could have told me to hold m' breath. He could have had me sleep the whole time. Could have poisoned me or put me under a draught of living death! 'Stay. Still.' I believe a lot of things, but I think this lad deserves a second chance. Lad did his time! He was in the wrong place at the wrong time firs' go 'round. His father was harsh when he didn't need t' be. If anythin' slap him with a fine! 1000 galleons!"

Barty chuckled softly to himself. He was all cried out and had dissociated so much that his body barely made a noise as he did so.

With a loud sigh Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose, "That will be all, Mr. Moody."

Alastor hobbled off the stand with a loud 'Hmph!', a pink haired witch tried to help him only have him lift his arm away from her with an obvious growl on his face. The straw color haired wizard's heart ached at the sight, glad that he could at least see his friend one more time.

"The Wizengamot has heard testimonies both for and against Bartemius Crouch Jr," she said, "Now they will decide – "

"Hem hem."

Amelia looked at the witch with the black bow and pink robes poking from under her black ones. Inhaling slowly Amelia closed her eyes and looked up at the other witch.

"Yes, Undersecretary?"

Umbridge smiled coldly, "We have heard the testimonies, but if the Wizengamot decides to give this upstanding citizen a second chance, deciding give him a lesser sentence; how will we know he won't repeat the offense? Wouldn't it be best to keep him in custody just to be sure? He has slipped through the cracks before…"

Uncomfortable murmurs rose around the court.

"Should he be given a lesser sentence; he will be on parole. He will still be under watch and his wand will be subject to inspection each meeting. If he violates his parole, he will be sent back to Azkaban."

"I just wanted to be sure. Ultimately if Crouch Jr. is seen fit to return to society he should know that with the severity of his last sentencing he won't be getting off without penalty."

Amelia made a noise of derision.

"Without further ado," she cleared her voice so it was once again booming, "How does the Wizengamot find this wizard? Those in favor of Bartemius Crouch Jr's innocence?"

Barty looked down and closed his eyes tightly, ready to meet his fate.

"Bartemius Crouch Jr. you are found…"

"NOT! GUILTY!"

His head snapped up in disbelief. Pettigrew was sentenced the Dementor's kiss. He looked at the Wizengamot's members and noted that they were almost evenly split. Those who found him innocent were those who once followed the Dark Lord or were supporters. Four of them were neutral, and surprisingly he had five who were considered light. His eyes looked at each individual witch and wizard and finally fell upon Malfoy. The platinum blond discreetly nodded his head at him.

Barty knew then that there was an undercurrent at his trial that hadn't been there last time. Last time his brothers in arms were also awaiting their own trials and had galleons flowing to keep them out. His father was head of the DMLE and had come down on him the hardest, there was no hope to save him, even if he claimed imperious.

"Bartemius Crouch Jr. you will be released into your father's custody and will receive an owl containing the details of your parole," she boomed.

Standing up slowly, the cuffs around his arms and ankles clinked open and fell in a pool between his feet. He rubbed his wrists gently.

"Thank you, Lords and Ladies, for giving me this second chance. I hope I do not disappoint you again," he bowed at his waist with a flourish.

His pureblood etiquette was showing, impressing many of those in the room. It may have been more than a decade, but he remembered his upbringing and manners. A good sign to most of those in the courtroom.

Nonetheless, he had to go to the Dark Lord's side at his earliest convenience. The dark mark on his arm meant that he was still a Death Eater. Those who didn't answer the call were hunted down and killed. The only excuse acceptable was being kept in custody by the Ministry or a resident of Azkaban. Of which he was now neither.

Molly glared at the food she was cooking with red rimmed eyes. Arthur had asked her what was wrong and she couldn't tell him. Instead she lied to her husband and blamed it on Harry's muggle relatives. Throughout their marriage she had withheld information from Arthur, but this was the first time she ever felt like she had lied to him.

She had the best marriage contract she could ever have hoped for, for her daughter, and it was voided. Albus had told her that he didn't do it, but that meant that someone else had the authority to do so. Gringotts allowed it. What made matters worse was that she couldn't demand anything from them less she be fined on their behalf or potentially cost her son his dream job.

Arthur felt miserable that he couldn't do anything to help his wife, his youngest son filling him in on details of their grievances with Harry's muggle family at the Tournament. He let Ron tell his side of the story, from which he knew his son was much like his mother and often felt slighted by the littlest of things and didn't take much of it seriously. From what he gathered Molly had thrown a tantrum and someone had told her no. Anything that happened afterwards he wasn't entirely certain.

His wife had come home solemnly before informing him that the Order was being reformed. After that she let him know there was an Order meeting the next day. His redheaded wife was fine for the first few days, then after that she changed. Her eyes were rimmed red like she had been crying for hours. She was moody and closed-mouth, thus he spent more time in his shed to take his mind off what he couldn't fix. He had told her repeatedly he couldn't fix what he didn't know was broken.

Ginny was deeply unsettled by her mother's behavior. Every time she caught her mother looking at her, her mother would break down and start crying. No one knew why and she refused to tell anyone.

Molly had stubbornly hoped that she would be able to convince Harry that her daughter was the one for him. She just had to try harder now to convince him that he was family. That he belonged. Be that as it may, her hardest task was Hermione Granger. The matron had no idea that they were related and had treated the witch indifferently and even scorned her for a few months. She was obviously important to Harry, so her opinion mattered. The trouble though was that the muggleborn was already extremely opinionated and smart. How was she going to convince the young witch after she had thoroughly offended her and her parentage?

'Who cares if they pay more!? It is a privilege for their children to even be here in the first place!'

She put her head in her hands and sighed soberly. Molly had let her Prewett temper best her again, and she had to think of a way to fix the mess she made. From what her kids had told her, Hermione Granger easily forgave, but her tongue had slipped and showed her distaste for muggleborns in general. That was something that the matron knew would not be easily forgiven.