Heirs of the Founders

by Animekitty2

A more mature, knowledgeable and motivated Harry Potter goes to school. His fated encounter with Hermione Granger comes sooner as they share a compartment aboard the Hogwarts' Express during their first journey to school. With greater self-confidence, the muggle-born and halfblood will start the long needed reformation of the magical world, hand in hand. HP/HG/DG/LL/OC

17. Chapter 17

Heirs of the Founders

Author's notes and other stuff:

Welcome back for another chapter of Heirs; I've actually managed an update in under than three months. Hurrah for me! Animekitty has been a good, well better is perhaps the better word, kitty this time; hopefully this isn't a fluke and that it's the shape of things to come for future updates: no promises though, sorry.

As usual, I want to thank my readers for investing their time and thoughts in my little bit of prose in a borrowed universe and say thanks for the reviews and encouragement. I also want to, again, welcome those who have come by Heirs this late in the game, have liked it and have chosen to follow it; even when I might be a mite long-winded and have a horribly (non-existent) update schedule.

For those of you who are interested in how our Disneyworld vacation went (some of this was actually written while we were there) I can honestly say we had lots of fun, spent lots of money (we had to buy extra luggage for our cornucopia of souvenirs) and saw and did a lot of neat stuff. Of course there were a few disappointments, all the songs that used to play an intragral role in some of Epcot's rides have vanished or have been relegated to the mere soundtrack and the Pleasure Island we knew and loved was gone as well (my son would've gotten a kick out of the Adventures Club). Unfortunately, our plans for Universal Studios didn't pan out and we were all looking forward to the World of Harry Potter: maybe next time.

That's all for now and I hope the next interval is shorter but who knows?

Thanks again,

Animekitty2

Obligatory blah blah blah:

I do not now, nor have I ever and only will if I'm the last person on Earth (at which point the whole concept of rights, royalties and responsibility, etc. . . becomes moot, to say the least) own Harry Potter or the characters therein, they belong to J. K. Rowling; I'm just playing with them.

Chapter Seventeen

The unfamiliar sensation of weight and heat bearing down on her chest was Danielle's first waking thought as her brain registered the stirrings of a new day. Her next thoughts, after the bothersome sensations of sleepers (the byproducts of a minor case of sniffles; acquired during what goblins considered light training) in her eyes, were: today is my birthday, today I'm eleven. Today is the first birthday about me and not about Lucius putting me on betrothal display for the like-minded and proper-blooded families of the Wizengamot. She forced those ire inducing thoughts from her head and returned her attention to the unfamiliar heat and weight puzzle. Blinking the crust from her eyes; Danielle's vision focused on a girl's face, framed by long blonde locks, with seemingly huge blue eyes gazing at her.

"Happy birthday, Dani," the girl greeted; her voice pitched to its usual dreamy quality, which belied the acute awareness the girl actually had for her surroundings.

Danielle was about to reply but—before she spoke—the young blond shifted, quickly straddled her and then promptly planted a wet kiss on the birthday witch's lips. Dani turned her head—startled by her sense of hesitance in doing so—and broke the unforeseen kiss that wasn't entirely unwelcome, which had become her first.

"L-Luna . . ." Danielle stammered, "W-why'd ya do that?"

"It's your birthday silly Dani," Luna replied simply as she leaned back on her knees but remained straddling her young host. Danielle immediately noticed that Luna wasn't wearing the unicorn foal pajama top she had retired in. The sight of the mostly-naked young witch triggered a series of memories from the night before; those memories included why Luna was now in her bed and ignited an unwelcome squirrelly feeling in her chest.

It had begun late yesterday evening, Danielle remembered, Mom conjured an additional bed for us and, after brushing our teeth and stuff, me and Luna crawled into bed. My mums gave me a quick hug and goodnight kiss and then I teasingly said they weren't being fair to Luna, she recalled. Mum and Emma-mum glanced at Luna and Luna was looking really sad. My mums smiled, like they understood or something, and went and gave Luna her first mum-kiss and hug since before Mrs. Lovegood died. 'Th-thank you' I remember hearing Luna whisper; she was brushing a few tears from her eyes with the back of her hands: she looked really cute doing it too. 'A kiss is a gift that requires no thanks, Luna dear' Emma-mum had told her, I think she was getting teary eyed too. Dani recalled and then remembered, 'Now, you two, tomorrow is a big day so you best get to sleep promptly' mum told us; she was stern but not really threatening. I remember Mum said, 'I best not hear a peep from either of you or you'll be sleeping in separate rooms'. 'You won't mum' I said and I think Luna said, 'We'll be quiet Mrs. Granger-Black'. Mum kinda scowled before saying to Luna, 'Please, Luna luv, call me Aunt Cissy at the very least'. 'I . . . I'll try t-to r-remember, Au-Aunt Cissy' Luna promised and then Emma-mum said, 'That goes for me too . . . well, actually call me Aunt Emma of course'. Dani remembered her second mum had added playfully. I remember Luna only smiled in reply; I guess she knew Emma-mum was serious though. Danielle recalled and then remembered; Emma-mum put her arm around mum's waist and kinda gave her a little squeeze that Luna couldn't have missed. Another thing I'm gonna hav'ta explain, I guess; I wish Sis was here, she's way better with this stuff. I wonder if Luna noticed the look my mum gave Emma-mum when Emma-mum hugged her. I don't even want to try and explain that look or why my mums sleep in the same bed with daddy; especially when we have all these spare bedrooms. The young witch shuddered a bit when she remembered that thought. I'm glad my mums only paused a second to turn off the light before leaving and closing my door; I was worried they were gonna get kinda frisky and forget Luna was in my room too.

Danielle also remembered that, surprisingly, they had fallen asleep quite quickly but only after a few hours of slumber she had been woken by soft whimpers; whimpers that were coming from Luna. Concerned, she had left her bed and had quietly checked on the restlessly sleeping blonde. 'Luna,' she remembered she had whispered and then whispered again, 'Luna.' She recalled her friend had suddenly sat up—not really awake—and, with her blue eyes wide open; Luna screamed a silent scream. Danielle had sat on the bed, had wrapped her arms around her friend and then drew Luna into a tight hug. She had woken fully when she felt Dani's arms embracing her. Dani recalled that her quirky friend burrowed her head into her shoulder and had quietly sobbed. 'There, there Luna,' Danielle recalled soothing her distraught friend and stroking her hair and back. 'It'll be fine, you'll see,' Dani had softly pacified before asking, 'now, what's this all about; you can tell me.' 'I . . . I was dreaming about my mum; about the day she died . . . I was there: I saw it happen.' Luna replied weakly, Dani recollected that her voice had been quite shaky. 'D'ya—I don't know—want me to get mum or something?' 'P-Please Dani, just h-hold me like this f-for a while,' the younger witch had asked in a whisper, she recalled. Holding her, Dani remembered her friend's silent and warm tears upon her bare shoulder; a sensation that had made her suddenly and acutely aware that—at some point—she had shed the t-shirt she'd worn at bedtime. After a few uncomfortable and somewhat humid minutes, Luna's quiet sobs faded and Danielle recalled her friend's tension slackened. 'W-what happened to your night shirt, Dani?' Luna had suddenly asked, the sorrow of mere moments past forgotten by the odd yet loving girl. 'Um . . . well I suppose I took it off at some point; this is how I usually sleep: I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable Luna,' Dani remembered she had worriedly replied. 'If that's how you usually sleep, why didn't you sleep usually, silly Dani?' 'I . . . I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.' 'Don't be ridicules, Danielle Granger-Black,' she remembered Luna had said firmly, 'this is your home; you have every right to be comfortable here but it's nice that you thought about me; it's almost like having a friend again.' 'Luna!' Dani had quietly exclaimed. 'You are my friend; my first friend, really, other than Dobby: Malfoy manor was as cold and distant as those—their children included—who visited it. This is a better place and here I have a real sister as opposed to a pretend brother. Mum is happier too; she's living with her real family now.' 'Your mums—two right?—and dad kinda confuse me; daddy's confused too, come to think of it,' Luna had said in barely a whisper, 'and I'm the first to admit me and daddy being confused is sorta odd and we're odd to begin with: at least others think we are.' 'I wish Hermione was here, she'd be able to explain things better; everything is pretty new to me too and—honestly—still kinda weirds me out.' Danielle remembered admitting before she had added, 'we'd better get back to bed before mum hears us and mum has never forgotten she's a Black; you don't want to see her angry, trust me.' 'Dani, c-can I s-sleep with you?' 'I . . . I suppose so, b-but why?' She remembered nervously asking. With pleading blue eyes, Luna had replied, 'Th-that was the first time I dreamed of my mommy in ages; I j-just wanna feel like I'm not b-by myself.' 'What about your dad?' Danielle recalled asking. 'Daddy's still haunted by what happened and he's only now getting his life in order; I don't want to worry him and I'd really like to see daddy smile again so I don't let him know about my dreams: it would make him sad again.' 'I . . . I think I understand Luna but we better use my bed, it's bigger.' 'Thank you, Dani, I hope I don't snore or move around too much.'

With that, Luna had wrapped Dani in a tight embrace before the blonde witch tossed the sheets aside. Dani recollected returning to her own bed, turning back her sheets and crawling in. Seconds later, Luna had unbuttoned and removed her unicorn foal pajama top and tossed it on her bed. 'Wh-what are you doing, L-Luna?' Danielle had managed to ask as her friend left her bed and crawled in beside her. 'Shouldn't we be dressed the same if we're sleeping together?' Luna had innocently whispered before lying down and cuddling into Dani; within seconds the blue-eyed witch had fallen into a peaceful sleep. Danielle recalled a few minutes of awkward confusion before she too fell to the sandman's wiles; feeling unexpectedly content with the unfamiliar sensation of heat and presence beside her.

"Luna, I-I still don't understand w-why you k-kissed me l-like you did," Danielle stammered as she looked at her friend.

Luna tilted her head, met Dani's eyes and, with an air of utter befuddlement, asked, "Did I do it wrong? I've seen your mum and your Emma-mum kiss like that; maybe I should ask them to teach me how to kiss properly: I don't want to be a bother to you, Dani, because I don't know how to kiss. Maybe we can practice; I'm sure I'll get better at it with you and your mums helping me."

"L-Luna . . . um . . . about my mums; they're . . . well . . ."

". . . Really close, right?" interrupted Luna. "They're like very close sisters and don't very close sisters do everything together: I wanna be your sister and I wanna be just as close to Danielle Granger-Black as your mothers are with each other. Wouldn't it be nice being sisters like that together with your sister Hermione too; I always wanted sisters."

"Ah . . . um . . . well . . . I . . . um . . . I d-don't kn-know," Dani replied incoherently; she would be forever thankful that someone chose to knock on her bedroom door at that moment.

"Dani; Luna: you two awake yet," they heard Emma-mum's muffled voice call from the hall outside; followed by another knock that preceded the opening of Danielle's bedroom door because neither girl had replied. "Sleepy heads," they heard Emma say softly as she pushed open the door and stepped into the room and looked towards the beds; her eyes went wide and a secretive smile crossed Emma's lips when she saw her daughter being straddled by her daughter's topless friend. Facetiously, she said, "Should I come back later?"

"Yes . . . I mean n-no; this isn't w-what it looks like, Emma-mum," Danielle vainly tried to defend the position her mum had found her and Luna in before embarking on a proper explanation. "L-Luna was having bad dreams last night and she asked if she could sleep with me. It was Luna's idea to take of her pajama top and it was Luna's idea to k-kiss m-me on m-my l-lips to thank me and to wish me a happy-birthday. It's your fault."

"My fault?" Emma exclaimed playfully, "How can it be my fault that a topless Luna is straddling my topless Dani and kissing her?"

"Luna saw you and mum being affectionate last night; she thought that since you and mum are sorta sisters it's the proper way to for sisters to behave: I guess Luna thinks we're sorta sisters too," Danielle scrambled to explain what had happened and that it wasn't what it looked like.

Emma Granger took a few seconds to study the two young witches and tried to think of a way to explain hers and Narcissa's relationship to the impressionable young Luna Lovegood. Not finding an immediate solution, Emma figured she and Cissy would talk later and then try to explain things together, soon; this evening if the two young witches were still awake enough after the little party they had planned. I'm glad Cissy is escorting them both back to Gringotts tomorrow; that means Luna's here for another night at least. We'd better speak to Zeno too, soon; I don't think he really understands his daughter for all he tries and Luna's exposer to our family is likely outside his experience but then again maybe not. Cissy did say that she had heard Luna's mother Selene was every bit her daughter's mother but that they never traveled in the same circles at Hogwarts or after.

"Honestly, I won't pry but you two should have your showers and then head down for breakfast," Mrs. Granger said before spiritedly teasing them, "you'll save time and water if you shower together." She immediately regretted her words when Danielle's face turned beet-red; Luna just tilted her head and looked baffled.

"Mum!" Danielle exclaimed in innocent mortification but she noticed that Luna seemed completely unperturbed by Emma-mum's bantering.

Emma smiled and told them, "Breakfast will be in twenty minutes; just be ready by then, okay?"

"Yes Emma-mum," Danielle replied as Luna said, "Yes Aunt Emma."

Luna's response brought a smile to Emma's face before she said, "Remember, twenty minutes and just twenty minutes, you two."

They two young blonde—of different shades—witches replied with a nod.

"Um, Luna . . . can you get off me now," Dani asked.

"Oh, sorry Dani," Luna replied, bent forward and stole another unexpected kiss before she essentially dismounted the birthday-witch named Dani; allowing her friend to rise as well. Luna, followed by Dani, got out of bed and then said, "You go have your shower first, Dani, you felt a little sticky there, at the end."

"Th-thanks, I-I'll go do that now," Danielle replied, as she made her escape to her closet and then into the washroom proper. Ah, sanctuary, she thought with relief. Leaning into the shower's glass enclosure, she turned on the water before answering the other call of the morning. Remembering not to flush, Dani removed and hampered her panties. She tested and adjusted the shower's temperature to her liking—a little below being too hot—and stepped under the multiple nozzles, which easily sprayed her entire body with little more than a simple turn either this way or that. Happily, she allowed the hot water to wash away her sweat and tension and absently wondered what her sister might say about her morning's encounter with Luna. For the time being, confusion was the predominate feeling she had. I suppose her lying on top of me when we were both mostly-naked didn't feel too bad, just . . . I don't know . . . kinda weird. And I suppose the kiss was alright . . . but it was my first kiss! Luna stole my first kiss! Aaurgh, I should be more upset about that—shouldn't I—it was my first kiss after all; it's supposed to be special . . . it was special. Danielle heard the last thought as little more than a whisper when compared to the earlier parts of her little mental rant.

"Dani, let me wash your back," Danielle heard over the sound of cascading water but before she could answer, the shower door slid open and Luna stepped in, with a washcloth and a bar of soap in hand.

"L-L-Luna, wh-what . . . w-why?"

""Your Emma-mum told us to save time and water, didn't she? Did I do something wrong? You are quite beautiful Dani; have I ever told you that? Ginny was very pretty but not really beautiful." Luna said without guile; Danielle was stunned.

"Uh . . . thank you I suppose," Dani said over her discomfort and inability to speak for a moment, "Who's Ginny?"

"Ginny was my old bestest friend before my mommy died; after that I hardly ever saw her and she didn't want to play 'Marry Harry Potter' with me anymore: I liked pretending to be Harry Potter; Harry Potter could kiss Ginny, so it was fun for me and felt kinda good too. Ginny was really pretty with her red hair and freckled fair skin but a little too much like her mum sometimes; I don't really like Mrs. Weasley, she always looked at me kinda funny like."

"Um, Luna," Dani managed after recovery from a brief period of shock, "I . . . I don't think you should've been doing that; even with your former best friend. Some people might think you're strange."

"I am strange, silly Dani, I know that; does strange bother you? Now turn around; let me wash your back."

Utterly flummoxed by her friend's atypical and very un-girly—well, un-girly for her age, anyways—behavior, Danielle relented to Luna's request and turned around. Luna began washing Dani's back like it was an everyday event.

"Dani, what's Harry Potter like?" Luna asked unexpectedly, "I've heard Silkenrobe, Casthand and Griphook talking about him but Goblins see things differently than witches and wizards; what do you think?"

"Ah . . . well, I'm not really sure Luna; it's complicated," Danielle struggled to explain, "He seems nice but I didn't even spend a day with him and my sister; I hardly had a chance to get to know him or my half-sister Hermione but I think I like them."

"Like them; or 'like' like them?" asked the blonde haired witch; the tone of her question seemed inscrutable to the young witch who had thought she was a Malfoy.

"Wh-what do you mean by 'like' like?"

"You know, silly Dani, 'like' like; like your mommies like your daddy and each other: that type of 'like' like."

"I c-can't really s-say one way or another, Luna. Like I said, I d-don't really kn-know them, yet; now do I?" Danielle's body took on a decidedly rouge colored glow as she stammered in reply; it was a question she hadn't really begun to consider. Avoided, is more like it, Dani, a usually quiet part of her thoughts just had to chime in, uninvited. It didn't help that she was sharing a shower with an attractive young witch who epitomized an odd juxtaposition of innocence and precociousness that called to feelings that woke after she had met Hermione. Not to mention when she learned of her mother's relationship with her real dad and her new other mother.

"What about me?" Luna whispered as she wrapped her arms about Danielle's waist and into an embrace that was far too intimate for Dani's comfort, especially the feelings that stirred when she felt Luna's chest tightly pressing into her back.

"St-stop th-that L-Luna," Danielle stuttered, pulled herself from the encircling arms of her blue-eyed friend and turned to face her.

"Oh pooh," Luna said with offhanded whimsy, "and that felt really nice too; don't you like me hugging you, Danielle Granger-Black?"

"No . . . I mean I do but . . . I don't know . . . I-I c-can't explain it."

"That wasn't very articulate, you know?" Luna teased as she soaped the washcloth and offered it to Danielle, "Can you do me now?"

Luna turned her back to a muddled Danielle, who had unconsciously accepted the soapy cloth. Running mostly on autopilot, Dani began washing her friend's back as her thoughts and feelings churned in turmoil. First sis, now this; by Morgana, I'm so confused, she thought. Do I really belong here? Luna seems more at home with these things and she lives with just her daddy. Maybe she doesn't really understand. Danielle appraised Luna with a sly glance; her friend seemed normal—well normal for Luna, anyways—even though she stood unabashedly naked before another and equally naked witch; Luna was obviously enjoying the back scrub with an almost catlike appreciation. I can almost hear her purr, Danielle's thought in brief coherence before her mind collapsed back to randomness.

"Y-you can rinse off now," Dani said, her voice barely audible above the comfortably hot cascade.

"Thanks Dani," replied Luna as she took Danielle's place under the shower's spray.

Briefly, Dani savored the sight of a nude Luna standing full-frontal and relaxed before her and then realized she was staring; she looked away. Luna noticed, smiled and said, first playfully and then seriously, "Silly Dani, I don't mind looking at you; you shouldn't mind looking at me. You have very pretty eyes, Danielle; I like looking at you, I wish I was as pretty as you are."

"Y-you're very pretty, Luna," she quickly reassured her friend.

"But you keep looking away, like you don't want to look at me; why do you do that, Danielle Granger-Black?"

"I-I . . . um . . . well . . . do like l-looking at you but . . . but then I get so c-confused. I've never f-felt like this before: not until after I met my sister and f-found out about m-my mums. I-I'm s-so unsure of m-myself these days and that's a really new f-feeling for me; I-I don't know what to make of i-it and it kinda s-scares me."

"What scares you, Dani?" Luna asked with concern; the innocent and ethereal Luna cadence replaced by—as Danielle, half-teasingly, had come to call it—the antedi-Luna-vian voice.

"This, my family, new feelings," came Danielle's almost pleading reply before an almost unheard whisper of, "my d-dreams and s-stuff."

"Family, feelings, dreams?" Luna replied; her tone unchanged and it made Dani consider a bit of an overheard conversation that Tomeminder-Prime had had with Griphook, when he had introduced the young witch to Gringotts' chief archivist. Luna continued in the same mien, "Such things are what they are. They aren't mitigatable and need to be embraced for good . . . or for ill. Family is our history; dreams, a glimpse of our tomorrows and our feelings—well—they tell us who we are today. These things play for and against each other; like ripples on a pond or waves on a sea, sometimes overlapping and sometimes cancelling but never still. They can guide you and beguile you; control you and free you but when looked upon they sculpt the mosaic, which becomes our lives. Only by being honest to ourselves, above all else, will lead to a life of minimal regret and when we remain honest to others we find a path to contentment."

Dumbfounded, Danielle slowly digested the stream of Luna's mature wisdom and found herself in agreement with her commonly eccentric friend; it didn't make things any easier for her or any less confusing or uncomfortable for that matter. Things became even more uncomfortable when Luna suddenly knelt before the confused birthday witch.

"W-why are you kneeling, L-Luna?"

"It's easier for you to wash my hair this way, silly Dani; you will wash my hair, won't you? I'll do you after. I just love—almost as much as pudding—the feeling of another's fingers washing my hair. I really like that tingly feeling you get; it makes me fell all . . . well . . . tingly."

Shaking her head, Danielle mused; this is the most surreal birthday I'll likely ever have, and picked up the shampoo sitting on a corner nook. She squeezed a dollop of foamy cream into her palm and re-shelved the bottle. Here goes, she thought as she spread the shampoo to her other hand and then began working the delicately floral scented product into Luna's blonde hair. Luna sighed contently as Dani washed the long locks beneath her gentle but firm fingers and the process of building a good lather drew the kneeling witch ever closer to her standing friend. Damn, Danielle thought as subtle shivers, which were created by Luna's warm breath against a decidedly private and extremely sensitive patch of skin, fluttered through the young witch's body. Trying her best to ignore the pleasant and yet uncomfortable new sensations, Dani remained focused on her—admittedly agreeable—task on hand.

Satisfied that she had done a thorough job with the top of Luna's hair, Danielle said, "S-stand up and turn around, so I can get the rest."

Luna glanced up, smiled at her obviously flustered friend and stood. The young witch with the dirty-blonde hair, which fell to her lower back, quietly sighed as Danielle washed the remaining lengths of locks. As confused and uncomfortable thoughts and feelings swirled through Dani, the young witch forced herself to focus only on Luna's hair and not the rest of her naked and shower sodden friend.

Dani combed her fingers one final time through Luna's tresses and then said, "G-give your hair a final rinse, Luna, and then we'd best get out before someone comes looking for us."

Luna turned around, sporting a little contented grin, and immediately wrapped her arms about Dani's waist and drew the her into a tight embrace before planting a naughty—but somehow still innocent—peck on Danielle's lips.

"Wh-what w-was that f-for?" Dani asked as her friend's lips came away from her own.

"Silly Dani, I was thanking you of course." Luna began but her voice suddenly shifted to an apprehensive tenor and she fretfully asked, "Did I do something wrong again?"

"Y-yes . . . N-no, I . . . I don't know. I . . . I . . ." Danielle stuttered before she regained some semblance of coherent speech and said, "I-I'm gonna ask my mum's to talk to you b-because I don't really know what to say. Let's just get dry and dressed; breakfast is probably ready by now . . . I wish Hermione was here."

Cocking her head in confusion, Luna asked with dreamy purity, "Why do you wish that, Dani? Still, I suppose if I had a sister I'd want her to be with me on my birthday too. Please be my sister for my birthday next month, Danielle, that way we can sleep and shower and do all these other neat things—like hugging and kissing—together again. I like kissing and hugging you Dani; it makes me feel different—a nice different mind you—and . . . and I like it: I like it a lot, especially when we're dressed—undressed—like this. We can even share my bed and I promise I'll dress the same as you and not steal the sheets either . . . at least not on purpose. I'm sure daddy will like me having a friend over . . . I haven't had a friend over since mommy died. I bet my mommy and your mommies would be like sisters too but I'm not sure what daddy would think of them kissing but I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Do you think my mommy and your mommies would tongue kiss like your mommies do? I wonder what a tongue kiss is like, do you know? We should do that someday and find out Dani; I'm sure your sister and Harry Potter would like to know what a tongue kiss feels like too, so maybe we could practice and show them when we see them someday. Won't that be fun?"

—}{—

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood before her full length mirror and contemplated her appearance. I'm getting old, she thought as she yawned. Critically, she studied her reflection and unconsciously sought to smooth nonexistent wrinkles in the best—only—muggle dress-suit she owned. Maybe I should get a new one? She silently considered. Sure, Albus would likely say something about a witch's vanity being a fickle thing. Humph, a witch's vanity is a 'fickle' thing? I swear, if he could, he'd change his robes to better coordinate with the hue of a blue sky. Perhaps, after today's introduction and invitation I'll do something for myself for a change; if I have the time. I'll likely need it, too.

Minerva glanced at the innocent looking envelope on her dresser and scowled: never had a Hogwarts' invitation caused her this much perplexity and trepidation or rang as many alarm bells in her head. If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought it a Marauders' prank but that was impossible on at least two accounts, she was sadly and truly aware. The first, there hadn't been a 'Marauder' (the Weasley twins notwithstanding) in Hogwarts since the spring of '78; and second, not even the Headmaster knew the how or where of an invitation's creation: they just appeared in the Deputy Head's special box when a recipient was a muggle-born. From there, it became the Deputy's responsibility to deliver the invitation and explain things to the invitee and/or the invitee's family. Such explanations were commonly followed by a period of mollification for the recipient and/or the recipient's family; this time, Minerva was certain she'd be the one needing to be mollified because everything about this invitation troubled her, to say the least. Picking up the innocent looking but sleep-depriving envelope, which had appeared after Saturday's supper, Professor McGonagall stowed it in her purse and exited her chambers.

"Good morning, Minerva; how are you this morning?" greeted Filius before Minerva almost stepped into her diminutive co-facility as her foot found the landing at the Entry Hall's floor; she abruptly stopped.

"Good morning, Filius; I'm fine and you?" She answered, her tone denying her response.

"I'm good thank you. A little distracted this morning are we?" he asked with a friendly grin.

"Is it that obvious?" asked Minerva.

"Surprisingly so, Minnie; you're usually far more composed and staid," he replied before asking, "What's got your tail in a knot so early on a Sunday?"

"A Hogwarts' invitation I'm to deliver," she replied.

"A Hogwarts' invitation, why? You've delivered hundreds through the years," he stated matter-of-factly, "why is this one troublesome?"

"It's the address, Filius," she replied, drew the envelope from her bag and showed it to the Charms' Professor.

"Ah yes, I see," he replied with a knowing smirk that Minerva missed; even after many years, she still commonly misread—especially when stressed—the nuances of the half-goblin's expressions. Filius added, "Well, I'll let you carry on with your Headmistress duties, Minerva; I've some homework to mark but I'm sure it'll be fine in the end. Farewell."

"Farewell, Filius," replied the Transfiguration Professor; before she carried on.

Filius Flitwick turned, watched a distracted Professor McGonagall walk away and quietly said in amusement, "Perhaps I should have a bottle of Scotch or a bag of catnip left in her chambers for when she gets back; she'll likely welcome it."

Minerva walked across the Entry hall, greeting a few early rising—mostly—fifth or seventh year students as she went. She continued past the Hogwarts' crest predominately displayed on the wall and reached Hogwarts' large double doors. The doors swung open and the morning light that streamed in played havoc with Minerva's sensitive eyes, for a second or so, until they adapted to the glare. Stepping into autumn's first morning, she began walking down the path to Hogsmeade and hoped the fresh air would help clear her mind before she had to apparate. At least I know where I'm going, I hate muggle taxis; they're almost as bad as the Knight Bus. She thought as she approached the gate, the demarcation point of the school's anti-apparition and other ward lines. Professor McGonagall felt the school's boundary with her magic as she passed beyond Hogwarts' grounds. Focusing on her three Ds (Destination, Determination and Deliberation); Minerva turned on her heel, vanished with a resounding pop and found herself victim of one, if not the most, violent and chaotic apparations she had ever experienced.

Reappearing, dazed and disoriented, the Deputy Headmistress found herself behind a tall and very thick shrubbery, which prevented her—or anyone for that matter—from seeing what might be on the other side. By Merlin, what was that? She thought as she automatically checked to ensure all her parts remained attached and in their correct places. Satisfied that she was indeed whole and proper, Minerva turned her attention to her location. That's a relief, she mentally sighed as she spied her destination beyond the traditional wrought iron fence she now stood before. Oh good, my shoes didn't get dirty, she thought in further relief once she observed that her arrival point was paved with flagstone and that the short path behind the hedge, which led to the drive and walkway was as well. Girding herself for more—but expected—surprises, which were absent on her last visit to this rather large and well-kept Victorian almost manor; Professor McGonagall stepped to the walk, turned and passed through the open pedestrian gate. She abruptly stopped.

"Bloody hell," she swore uncharacteristically and aloud as a wave of vertigo struck and, in its wake, there lingered a dampening field that suppressed her magic to an uncomfortable and worrisome degree.

Founders Four help me, did I just transverse a level five ward line? She silently asked herself as her head slowly cleared and then she resumed walking; she thought: Only goblins draw wards that nasty or debilitating; Merlin's beard, what is going on here? This is a muggle house in a muggle area, however did they receive Ministry approval for almost war level wards? Of course, she thought with a snap of mental fingers, Hermione's association with Harry makes the Grangers a vassal family of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter; this house, regardless of ownership, is virtually House Potter property now. Of course their daughter being the Lady Matriarch of their new House warrants protections too, but she'd have to appear and declare herself before the Wizengamot before its officious codgers would—likely begrudgingly so—proclaim this house as home of Seat Granger. Until then, or until Harry pronounces them, let's hope that an Auror doesn't happen past and notice these wards; they'd likely summon a squad of hit wizards and ward breakers before introducing themselves to the Grangers. Thankfully, the DMLE rarely patrols muggle London for more than a few blocks beyond the Leaky Cauldron, St. Mungo's or the Ministry proper; they'd be very surprised and worried to find protection of this nature and severity in a muggle area.

Even with the mystery of 'the why' of the unexpected warding solved, Minerva McGonagall was unable to fathom 'the how' of the rather excessive power that supported them. The Grangers—Hermione aside—are muggles; the only way to maintain these wards, when their daughter isn't home, is by using a power rune-stone but even that requires regular recharging, especially considering what these wards must be drawing. The Professor reasoned to a less than satisfactory answer as she continued toward the house. Minerva climbed the portico's few steps, approached the door with its leaded sidelights and stopped. With a cursory glance at her reflection, she thought herself presentable and knocked on the door; almost immediately, it swung open.

"N-Narcissa M-Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed when her vision penetrated the shadow that laid beyond.

—}{—

"Good morning Professor Flitwick," the part goblin heard the familiar duet of his current—if not most—favorite students he had ever taught.

"And a good morning to you Miss Granger; Mister Potter," he replied as he turned and saw the two, with a predator's grace, descend the last few steps of the grand staircase; as usual, they were holding hands. He asked, "Have you broken your fast this Equinox morn?"

"We have, Professor," Hermione replied as Harry nodded in agreement before he added, "but we were a little surprised when we didn't see you this morning; you're usually the first staff to arrive, Professor. I can't believe you slept in."

"An early missive from family that needed an immediate reply," Filius replied with surprising candor. "One does not leave one's Brood Matriarch waiting on a response, without good reason that is."

"I completely understand, I've had dealings with a few Matriarchs," Harry said knowingly, "they are generally not patient people."

"An understatement, Lord Potter," the professor agreed quietly; his use of an honorific said enough for Harry to know that, at least in part, the letter related to either him or Hermione: probably both.

The two Gryffindor's stepped from the grand staircase and stopped before their master; Harry said, "I've not had the honor to meet Cluster Brood Flitwick's Matriarch; next time I have an opportunity I should present myself to her."

"Alas, Lord Potter, there is no Cluster Flitwick; I share my father's name, as is the tradition for a male of wizarding descent."

With a polite bow that was little more than a head nod, Harry replied, "My apologies, Professor; I did not know that but I should still like to present myself to your Matriarch and sing your honor: you've been very good to Hermione and I and we're not even of House Ravenclaw."

"It has been my honor as well, Lord Potter; Lady Granger. Rarely have two students shown a goblin's work ethic or dedication to their studies and I can say that even not knowing the two of you for a month yet. Still, I hope you're not spending all your time in these hallowed halls with tomes of lore: school is not just about knowledge; it's about living and learning about life as well. Still, I see that you both know this and it's pleasant to watch your growing circle, the divide between houses is not what Hogwarts is about and seeing Ms. Greengrass and Ms. Davis of Slytherin interacting positively with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs bodes well for our futures. Regrettably, our esteemed Headmaster's preference to schedule our two most divisive houses together, as often as he does, leaves little time to intermingle with students of the other houses and a chance to learn of and from them; it hasn't always been so."

"How was it in your day, Professor?" Harry asked.

"I never attended Hogwarts," he answered before adding, with a hint of disdain, "Hogwarts would not have me; even now I doubt I'd be admitted."

"That's not fair! How did you do your OWLs and NEWTs then?" Hermione asked with an equal amount of disdain; gleaned from the part-goblin's tone and response.

"One can sit their qualifiers without attending a school, Miss Granger; it's just more difficult and requires more expansive exams, both practical and written, that's all and what does fair have to do with anything, my dear?"

His response surprised Harry; he'd rarely heard a tone or word of endearment from any goblin. Still, Professor Flitwick was part human so he was bound to be at least somewhat different, wasn't he? The green-eyed wizard supposed.

Having already faced an uncomfortable level of prejudice, in her short time at Hogwarts, Hermione could understand the Charms Professor's reply; that didn't mean she liked or accepted it. She said in pointed observation, "I'm wearing my heritage on my sleeve again, aren't I?"

With a quick nod from both Harry and her teacher, Hermione smiled weakly as the young lord replied, "You've a right to your righteous indignation Hermione; don't ever forget that. Still, best remember to temper it lest an idiot might overhear; at least until you present yourself and take your seat."

"Yes Harry," she replied demurely as her nature, which had—for the most part—become less noticeable than it had in the beginning; before they had settled into their current comfortable and friendly comradery.

Interesting, Filius Flitwick silently observed, I've not seen Hermione that deferent to Harry, or anyone for that matter, in her time here. Still, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised; Griphook did casually mention that our young Lady's family is not traditional, by human standards, but shares many similarities to that of the Nation's. I wonder, is Hermione's half-sister the same? Still, both her other mother and Danielle Granger-Black are Blacks of House Black and since most House Black born witches tend to be rather extreme in both preferences and devotion to their partners, she probably will be too. Well, at least Harry has the needed dominant mien about him and I heard Mr. Granger has it too: he has collared two mates after all and one is a very powerful witch. Lucius Malfoy was fool in school, remained a fool upon graduation and a fool after marriage; to see Narcissa as a mere brood mare and token wife was an error and now he reaps what he's sown. I hope his son smartens up and embraces his Black blood, before it's too late, but it looks like this may well be the last generation of House Malfoy and its small minded ambitions. If Draco's lucky, he might be absorbed as a cadet line to either House Potter or House Black; if he survives that long. I wonder, has Sibyll seen that with her inner-eye? He added surprisingly caustically.

"I suppose we should let you have breakfast before the elves stop serving, Professor; please excuse us," Harry said.

"Off with you now, Mister Potter; Miss Granger," Filius said in polite dismissal, "and ensure you enjoy your free time; providing it doesn't interfere too much with your scholarly responsibilities."

"Thank you, Professor; we will," they said in unison before Hermione added, "we're going to take a little walk outside since it looks like nice morning. I'm sure we don't have too many left; if what I've read about the Highlands is correct."

"Unfortunately, you are most assuredly correct, Miss Granger," he replied with a smile, "and while the Hogs' Vale is somewhat protected from nature's fury it still can become quite nasty when she's in a bad mood, as it were."

Harry and Hermione smiled in response and then turned toward the castle's doors. Professor Flitwick watched as they proceeded into, almost on Minerva's heels, the sunny morn that lay beyond. Smiling to himself, he turned and walked to the Great Hall and the wafting odor of a weekend's breakfast that hastened his step.

—}{—

"Happy birthday, Dani," rose the chorus of family and house-elf, with the addition of Xenophilius Lovegood, as Danielle and Luna enter the kitchen for breakfast.

"Oh goody, waffles!" Luna exclaimed and skipped to the table.

Danielle remained quietly embarrassed, her past birthday breakfasts had been relatively low-key affairs shared with her mother and maybe her brother with neither hide nor hair of Lucius being seen until the fallacy of her so called birthday party. At least I'm not facing the scrutiny of Lucius and his ever so proper associates as he takes bids for the honor of becoming my betrothed. Thank Merlin, I'm glad me and mum are here now; last year's front-runners were Goyle and Crabbe in exchange for their sons' protection of my dear brother Draco. She shuddered internally as she recalled her tenth birthday. It would've been worse this year since it's my eleventh; tradition nearly demands a daughter of the family become affianced for what little protection that provides, once sorted to Slytherin. Perhaps I should talk to mum, dad and Emma-mum and see if they can get Harry to agree to a non-binding betrothal contract for me; Hermione sure is lucky she's a Gryffindor, things like that tend to be unnecessary in her house. What am I thinking!

"Thank you, mums, dad; Mister Lovegood," Danielle said shyly when she found her voice.

"C'mon Dani, there's fresh strawberries and whipped cream," Luna said excitedly as her big blue eyes glowed with playful avarice, "Can I make up a plate for you?"

Smiling at her first real friend, Danielle joined her family—plus two and an elf—at the large kitchen table.

"Can Dobby get Mistress Dani a drink?" The house-elf asked.

"Dobby, the pitcher of juice is on the table; I can serve myself," Danielle replied; Dobby's ears wilted.

"Let Dobby serve, Danielle," Narcissa urged softly, "Emma wanted to make breakfast for you, today, and Dobby found himself against a very determined woman when he insisted it was his job."

"Oh," replied the birthday-witch in understanding, "I'd be very happy if you served me, Dobby."

The elf's ears unfolded and, with a renewed sense of purpose, he happily poured the juice as Luna placed a heaping helping of waffles before Danielle.

"Thank you, Dobby; Luna," Dani said after the elf had placed a filled glass before her and then another before Luna; he followed by topping off the teacups, which sat before the adults and himself; who he served last.

"Here you go Dobby," Luna said as she placed another heaping plate on the table before the house-elf's stool.

"Thank you Mistress Luna," Dobby said and his tone displayed his discomfort at being served by a witch but this was House Granger and House Granger's rules demanded that Dobby be treated like any part of the family or guest at the table. He still would wait until the others began eating but then he'd allow himself to eat too; in the meantime, he said very politely, "You make very good waffles, Mistress Emma-mum; Dobby would really appreciate if you showed him how. Dobby's waffles are never this perfect shade of golden-brown."

Emma smiled warmly and said, "I don't think it's me, Dobby; our waffle iron almost guarantees an almost perfect waffle almost every time but I inherited the recipe from my grandmother, I'll teach it to you next time."

"Thank you Mistress Emma-mum," replied an ecstatic house-elf almost bouncing with joy; Emma shook her head at Dobby's second 'Mistress Emma-mum' but she had learned not to correct their rather hyper-active domestic and adopted family member: it was better that way and far less dramatic.

"You're welcome Dobby," Emma replied honestly before noticing the overloaded plate that Luna had snuck before her, "and thank you Luna; you didn't have to do that."

"I'm happy to, Mrs. . . I mean A-Aunt Emma," said the younger girl who regularly bore an uncommonly forlorn demeanor: a demeanor that a girl her age should not have had to bear. Narcissa's and Emma's heart went out to their daughter's friend, happily sitting and eating with a family, which seemed to be growing both larger and odder with each passing day.

Pleasantly passing their time with small talk and familial light teasing; the Granger/Granger-Black household and their guests, gathered at the simple kitchen table, enjoyed a breakfast free of pretense or other 'noble' unpleasantries. The common casualness of her new home, which Danielle had yet to grow fully accustomed to, remained unremarked upon by the Lovegoods whom, obviously, seemed quite comfortable in all its informality. Even her mother, the pinnacle of pureblooded elite born and bred a Black of House Black, sat unfazed in her—tantalizingly revealing—tight leggings and equally tight t-shirt like it was an everyday affair, which it nearly was. At least mum and Emma-mum are being kinda formal and are fully dressed this morning—should've worn bras though, Danielle sighed thoughtfully before wondering, I'm not sure what Mr. Lovegood would do if he saw them lounging—sans all but panties—as is their want most mornings lately. I'm glad dad, at least, keeps his pants on while I'm in the house but sis did tell me that clothing tends to be optional unless guests are expected. The idea of seeing dad, in all his glory, really weirds me out but the idea of us all bathing in the all together has its attraction too. I suppose that won't likely happen any time soon, especially when Hermione isn't home; besides I'm too embarrassed to let dad see me like that yet. Still, even though my shower with Luna and my bath with sis weren't too awkward—except in the beginning—so I guess I can see myself bathing with mums without too much trouble; it'll still likely feel weird at first, I'm sure. I wonder what Luna—or Mr. Lovegood for that matter—would think if she knew about my family's penchants towards nudity? Dani silently asked herself and took a wily glance at her friend. Somehow, I don't think it would phase her at all. By Merlin, if I mentioned it, she'd be bounding about, her cute hiney as buck-naked as the day she was born, before I could blink my eyes. Cute! Where did that come from?

Suddenly, interrupting Danielle's inner dialogue and her birthday breakfast; the witches, a wizard and a house-elf named Dobby felt a ripple in the magic, which now permeated the Granger/Granger-Black home. Concurrently with the ripple, a quiet chime—that was oddly intrusive for all it lacked volume—alerted those not fully gifted with magic by its sound and above the kitchen door a gem glowed yellow. Narcissa and Xenophilius stood and drew their wands and Dobby looked hyper-alert.

"What is that?" Dan and Emma asked with concern but they remained composed, although their mien had become almost feline in posture and categorically predatory in nature, to say the very least. Danielle had never seen her parents like this and even Luna noticed and reacted; she had, unconsciously, shrunk away from them a little.

"The anti-apparition ward's been triggered," Narcissa replied with concern. "Someone unknown to the wards has just tried to apparate onto the property. I don't think we need to worry, though, the intent ward wasn't tripped but—just in case—let me check who it is. Xeno, please stay here with my husband and wife and our kids just in case; Dobby please come with me but don't let yourself be seen."

"Yes Mistress Narcissa," replied the house-elf, his tone deadly-serious and it surprised Danielle; she'd never heard such a tone uttered by a house-elf—any house-elf—ever.

"Be careful, Cissy," Dan said with loving concern; he knew this was Narcissa's forte and that he and Emma would be relegated to support, if it came to a magical fire-fight. He was man enough to not feel emasculated by this simple truth and knew that his wife was the same; they both recognized that to each came a role to play and for all it might not be heroic didn't mean it wasn't just as important: sometimes more so.

"I will, dear," she replied, before giving both Emma and Dan a quick kiss on their lips. She then faced Danielle and said, "Stay here and do what you're told, Dani, and if things get too dangerous; let Mr. Lovegood apparate you and Luna to Gringotts, immediately and without question."

"Yes mum," Danielle replied obediently but obviously nervous.

Narcissa smiled at her daughter, turned from the table and made for the front door. As she strode away, Dobby dissolutioned himself and did, what house-elves do best: remain unseen. From the kitchen she stepped through the home's foyer and stopped at the door. Narcissa heard a knock, cast a quiet detection charm and smiled; she felt much more secure than she had. Next time I see Lord Potter, I'm going to give him a big kiss as thanks for licensing Lily's warding schemes to Gringotts, she thought with amusement. Our uninvited guest has had their core suppressed by nearly fifty percent; that must be very uncomfortable and magically emaciating. Well I suppose I need to remember my manners and answer the door; don't want others to think I've become a bad hostess, reasoned Narcissa and opened the door to see a witch she had not spoken to in a very long time.

"N-Narcissa M-Malfoy!" Minerva McGonagall exclaimed; propriety and professionalism forgotten.

"Hello Professor McGonagall; it's been a very long time, hasn't it?" said the former Lady Malfoy as she stowed her wand in her arm-holster.

"Mistress," Dobby said as he dropped his dissolution charm; to Minerva's further surprise, "why is Professor Pussycat here?"

"I have my suspicions, Dobby; please add a place at the table for her," she asked and the elf popped away; she turned to their unexpected visitor and said, "Come in professor and join us for tea. I imagine you have a few questions to ask and doorsteps are the wrong place to talk; may I safely assume that you are here on Hogwarts' business?"

Nodding first and then finding her voice, she said, "I'm here to invite Danielle Granger-Black to Hogwarts, Lady Malfoy."

"I had thought Dani's invitation would've come by owl but seeing you here is rather informative," Narcissa said and then stated, "I'm not Lady Malfoy anymore, Professor McGonagall, I'm now Narcissa Granger-Black. My name and status change are due to a series of very unanticipated events, which were precipitated by my former husband and my son's inability to keep their tongues still when in the presence of their betters. I believe you know of whom I speak. Come professor, let us join my family and our other guests."

Narcissa, with a sweep of her arm and a little bow, invited her former Transfiguration Professor into her home. She closed the door once Minerva was inside and said, "Come, join us for tea; we're all in the kitchen."

Minerva McGonagall hastened to follow her former student and, as her eyes grew accustomed to the interior light, she noticed what the formerly prim and proper daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was wearing. Scandalous, thought the usually conservative witch, especially when it came to matters of dress. How can she wear those skin-tight pant-things that are so immodestly revealingly—not to mention—that clingy muggle shirt that may as well be see through, she's a Black by Merlin. At least she can get away with it, the years have been kind to her . . . Is that a collar on her neck? Professor McGonagall asked herself as she realized that her day, which had started with confusion, was not gaining any clarity. She suddenly remembered Professor Flitwick's smirk-like expression from earlier. Morgana's cauldron! That little . . . he knew and kept his part-goblin tongue still. Ha . . . Ha! He'll see, I'm going to maneuver my red-headed menaces into pranking Filius once I get back; that'll show him! Still, I wonder: what does Albus know about all this? Very little, I suspect; he'll not like that, when he finds out but that's his problem. Mister Potter, you are one very sly and cunning Gryffindor, as is Miss Granger. It's not a wonder that you and your young witch are getting along with Severus so well. I wonder, what does he know? Still, he's quintessentially Slytherin, I'll not hear anything from him. Still, Narcissa's presence here and her new name provides a pretty big clue about how Hermione became the Lady Matriarch Granger. Sirius Black, she thought with a chuckle, even while in Azkaban you remain a prankster and I wonder; how much of what's been said about you is true? I think there are more than just a couple of secrets fluttering about the Granger's home this morning.

Professor McGonagall's focus returned to Narcissa and, upon entering the kitchen, said, "I suppose you already know my husband and wife, Daniel and Emma Granger, and Xenophilius Lovegood but let me introduce our daughter Danielle Granger-Black . . ."

Danielle rose from the table and curtseyed in practiced formality; Minerva nodded her head in acknowledgment.

". . . and her friend, Xeno's daughter, Luna Lovegood."

Luna also rose but her curtsey was not nearly as practiced as Danielle's but her smile was infectious; the professor nodded again and smiled at the young witch with the uncommonly big blue eyes.

"Does Professor Kitty want either milk or sugar in her tea?" Said the house-elf Minerva had seen earlier, "or would Master's and Mistresses' visiting Pussy prefer cream?"

Dobby's question had Daniel Granger almost spitting out his mouthful of tea and Emma, trying not to laugh, turned her head and forced a snicker into her hand; Narcissa rolled her eyes. Meanwhile, Minerva and Xenophilius looked confused by the odd display but two young witches seemed to have at least some idea why the other adults were behaving in this manner.

"The house-elf is named Dobby and belongs to Dani, Professor McGonagall; he sometimes says things wrong but he's as much a part of my family as the rest of us," Narcissa introduced, hoping to restore decorum; Minerva nodded at the elf as well.

"I . . . I take my tea clear, Dobby, thank you," said the visiting witch.

"Come, join us and have some tea, Minerva; we've not seen you in quite some time: how have you been?" Emma invited; indicating the empty place setting beside her.

"I . . . I've been well Mrs.—or is that 'the Lady Regent'?—Granger," the professor replied.

"Pish-posh, none of that formal stuff now," Emma corrected with a smile, "it's Emma, just like before and I'm certain you might get hexed if you call Cissy, Lady Granger-Black."

Minerva glanced at the former Lady Malfoy, surprised to see the witch—known for her icy persona—almost sensually trace Emma's waist with her perfectly manicured fingers before kissing Daniel Granger on his cheek and she then settled casually into the chair beside him. Of all the images that Minerva might have of the former Lady Malfoy; this one was far too bizarre to ever be imagined, let alone believed.

"H-how long?" Minerva asked and then immediately regretted it; it was an extremely personal question and none of her business, after all: her name was neither Albus Dumbledore nor—Merlin forbid—Rita Skeeter. She said apologetically, "I'm sorry; that was incredibly rude and intrusive of me."

"It's okay, Minerva," Dan said, "We know we're facing questions and derision, especially with Narcissa being our wife; but since such things are not unknown in wizarding culture, we've decided to embrace our family in all its difference and glory. Now, come, have some tea with us; if it was later in the day I'd offer you something stronger. By the way, we've been together for nearly eighteen wonderful years and yes we knew about Lucius and Draco; Danielle was a definite surprise—in a weekend full of surprises—for Emma and I, though."

Still feeling like an intruder, Minerva made her way to the table and the offered seat. She said, "You've made some powerful enemies in Lord Malfoy and his friends, if I'm reading an uncommonly subdued Draco, correctly; the young man does seem to seethe whenever he sees my two cubs and I've heard a few whispered, 'when my father finishes with them' a few times. I suppose he's not aware that me being a cat animagus, leaves me with very excellent hearing."

"Oh, has my son stopped trying to engage our Hermione and her Harry in petty irrelevancies?" Narcissa asked sarcastically, she also sounded bitterly disappointed.

Minerva sighed and answered, "No, he still tries but he's rapidly losing face due to the chronic embarrassments he brings to himself and his house because all he sees is a half-blood and a muggle-born witch. Severus is at his wits end and has no idea what to do with him, anymore and term is barely three weeks old. He's beginning to worry about Draco's safety too but neither he nor Lord Malfoy seems to be listening; it does not bode well for House Malfoy, Narcissa."

"You'd think Lucius would learn," Emma said, "I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised though; he did come across like an idiot.

"You've had dealings with Lord Malfoy, Mrs. Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Just the once," Emma replied.

"Yeah, sis told me Emma-mum trounced Lucius; I wish I had seen it," Danielle said; her respect and fondness for Mrs. Granger was as obvious as her contempt for Lucius Malfoy was.

"Dani . . ." Narcissa's tone warned.

"Sorry mum," Danielle apologized.

"So, young lady, you're Danielle Granger-Black," Minerva said in redirection, which seemed prudent to avoid the unexpected and unspoken innuendo that seemed to permeate the Granger's home; not to mention awkward topics. "I've got something here for your birthday; do you want it?"

Danielle nodded excitedly and Minerva handed a yellowish parchment envelope to the young witch; she tore it open, removed the letter and began to read happily.

"Will you be delivering my invitation, too; Professor McGonagall," Luna Lovegood asked, "my birthday's next month."

"I think your invitation will come by owl, my dear," replied the deputy headmistress as she sat, "it traditional."

"Oh pooh!" Luna exclaimed and then said rather poignantly, "I was hoping I could show you around the Rookery; it's nice having an adult witch at home again, even just visiting." Out of the blue, she suddenly added, "We could have pudding too."

Minerva McGonagall could only stare at the odd girl; who had lost her mother just a little more than a year before, to a horrific magical accident. The Grangers might be not be a 'normal' family but they are definitely loving and Narcissa and Emma appear to have taken young Luna under their wings. She thought and felt better that the young witch had found a couple of maternal role-models but still, she was a little concerned about what the impressionable young girl might learn from them, though, and Xenophilius seemed oblivious. Still, Hermione seems a fine upstanding young witch; of course, whether she's 'proper' is yet to be established. The professor silently ruminated. I wonder what Lily would think of the witch who's become her son's shadow . . . partner?

"Professor McGonagall," Danielle began after reading her letter, "I think there's been a mistake."

"Sorry my dear?" Minerva asked in confusion.

"My letter, Professor," Dani replied, "It says here that the Hogwarts' Express departs King's Cross at 11:00am on January fifth and that classes resume on the sixth; I don't understand."

"May I see that Miss Granger-Black?" she asked in full Deputy Headmistress mode.

—}{—

Into the shadows of the Entry Hall from the brilliance of autumn's first morn, Harry and Hermione stepped into Hogwarts after their short walk about the school's nearby gardens. The state of the flora, while still green but lacking in other colors, had clearly shown the year had advanced towards its inevitable close and that winter was on a horizon; a horizon much nearer in these Highlands than it was at their homes. The doors swung closed behind them and darkened the hall further but not so much as to cause any real difficulty for Hermione or Harry, following on his witch's heels, to cross the floor. The young witch stopped before the Hogwarts crest, which adorned one wall and watched a faint ripple distort the image ever-so-slightly; the distortion was followed by the caress of a warm gentle breeze as her wizard came to stand beside her. When a furtive glance over their shoulders revealed an absence of others, Harry and Hermione stepped through the school's crest and vanished; leaving little more than another faint ripple in their wake and a solid wall.

"Good morning," Peeves, in his human form, greeted as Hermione and Harry entered the Patrons and Founders Chambers.

"Good morning, Peeves," the two replied in their common duet before Hermione added, "How are you this morning?"

"I'm good Milady/Milord; thank you for asking," he replied with worrisome formality; Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes.

"What have we asked with respect to courtly decorum, Mr. Peeves?" Harry asked stiffly.

"I remember My Lord but this is a formal request by the Founders and I was instructed to be proper," he replied.

"I see," said the young wizard, "I suppose we should go see them then."

"With respect, Milord, not you; just the Lady Matriarch I've been told."

"Me?" Hermione stated a little nervously, this was an unexpected summons.

"Yes, Milady."

"W-What for?" she stuttered. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I think not, Lady Matriarch."

"Then why?"

"If I knew I'd not be at liberty to tell," Peeves' tone tried to soothe, "and you'd not want me to speculate; or do you Milady?"

"I suppose not and it's not like they're very far away, only on the other side of the door," the young witch answered.

"They want to meet in the Ritual Chamber, Hermione; not the Council Chamber," Fiona said as she faded into view.

"Okaaaay . . ." Hermione drawled in confusion before absently adding in like tone, "Whatever for?"

"May as well just go and see, Mione," Harry encouraged, "It sounds important; I can occupy myself for a little while. Actually, I was thinking about checking out those Memory Marbles I got; I've not really had the opportunity before and I am curious."

"Okay, if it's alright with you."

"I'm fine with it, my little witchling; now off with you, before I flip up your robe and give you're an encouraging swat on your cute li'l tush."

Hermione blushed and looked at the floor, her feelings mixed: mortified because she was knickerless today and if Harry acted on his playful threat he'd see; electrified because, if Harry acted on his playful threat, he'd see that today she was knickerless. Unfortunately for the young witch, Harry had become adept at reading Hermione's non-verbal responses; although he still commonly misread the social-cues of others.

Harry waggled his eyebrows in facetious salaciously, smiled naughtily and purred, "Has something got your panties in a twist, my wicked little witch?"

Hermione shook her head fervently but couldn't look at her young wizard as she blurted out fretfully, "N-nothing mas . . . mast: I m-mean Harry."

Harry, Fiona and Peeves started to playfully chuckle but not maliciously. The young witch finally looked up and smiled timidly.

"You can go, Mione," Harry told her.

"Yes Harry," Hermione complied demurely and headed for the stairs; Peeves and Fiona followed and soon the three had vanished down the stairs.

With another chuckle over Hermione's alluring shyness, Harry turned and made his way to the table. Sitting before the ornately crafted box that contained the gift from his father, he studied the case for a moment before opening it. Inside, he found another envelope—addressed to him—and it looked like his father's writing. Slipping a finger under the flap, Harry broke the Potter—heraldry embossed—wax seal and opened the envelope. As expected, it contained a folded piece of parchment, which he then withdrew and—after a nerve settling deep breath—he unfolded the letter.

Dear son, Harry read his father's salutation, I can't commit anything to writing because of the nature of the device that is now in your possession and all I can say is if you're not somewhere private and secure that you shouldn't proceed further until you are: I suggest you head for the Founders' Chambers. "Already here," Harry whispered as he continued reading. Once there, take out the thing that looks a bit a like a gold multi-tiered candelabra and sit it on a firm table. (It's a priceless and irreplaceable Potter Family Artifact, which was a gift from Rowena Ravenclaw back when Hogwarts was founded; so you can imagine how truly precious it is.) As you see, there are also number of crystal orbs—or marbles if you prefer—inside: some smaller silvery ones, two larger ones—a coral pink and a coral blue—and a final and even larger one with pink and blue swirled together. Harry glanced at the box, saw the orbs and turned his attention back to the letter. Remove the pink and blue one and place it in the main or central socket of the candelabra. Wait, the time depending on when it was last used, until it begins to glow and turn transparent. In the center of the of the now clear crystal orb you'll see a shimmering and pulsing star-like shape; that indicates the orb is fully charged and ready to go. Now, and this is the important part, sit down and touch the base of the relic with your finger; your mum has a few things to tell you and I'll be along shortly. Love Dad.

"Okay," Harry said puzzled but curiously as he returned the letter to its envelope. He put it aside and looked at the open case and its contents.

Following another deep breath, he reached into the case and lifted out the candelabra like thing. Wow, kinda heavy, he thought as placed the device before him.

"Well, here goes," he said abstractly.

Harry withdrew the pink and blue marble he was told to use, judiciously placed it on the central socket and waited. Soon, he thought he could hear a faint hum and then slowly the orb began to glow and grow transparent. He watched it for a few more minutes, then slowly the orb rose a centimeter or so into the air; before, languidly, starting to rotate. Well, that was unexpected, he thought and peered into the depths of the orb. Within, he saw a star-shaped tetrahedron constructed from pink and blue radians, which shimmered and pulsated at its heart.

"Pretty," Harry whispered absently and brought his Gryffindor courage to bear on his next step. With yet another deep breath, he reached for the artifact and touched its base: the world went black.

"My dear Harry," the young wizard heard a woman lovingly greet from the all-encompassing darkness; the voice seemed vaguely familiar and from a long time ago or, perhaps, from a dream he once had.

Harry turned towards the place from whence he thought the voice had come and gazed into the bottomless black nothingness and said, "Hello, who's there? I can hear but not see you. Um . . . Excuse me but do I know you?"

The woman chuckled kindheartedly and replied inscrutably, "Perhaps 'of me' more than 'know me', Harry. Either way, all will become clear soon; it should take a little while before image and audio sync. That's just the way it is here in the Outside and for the moment; we are but minds without self-images, take a look, love. It won't happen again, I promise; providing you or somebody else visits regularly, honey."

"I'm sorry?" he said in confusion, not just due to her words but because of her casual familiarity as well; he did try to look at himself, nonetheless. Shocked by his current appearance, Harry yelped, "Hey, where am I?"

Harry's exclamation triggered another round of disembodied, feminine chuckles that seemed to come from a dim and shapeless blob of light, which was now visible and growing brighter by the second.

"Wh-what's happening?" He asked aloud, his voice rife with non-diminishing confusion.

"Just a few more seconds, sweetie, honest. I realize this is unnerving but all will become . . . mostly . . . apparent soon. Calm down," said the woman who then quickly added with a kind snicker, "Oops, sorry 'bout that, wasn't really thinking there, now was I? That's usually the most unrelaxing thing a person can ask of another, even when it's an innocent attempt at reassurance."

The young wizard felt himself nod but he didn't reply; he was trying to remain calm in the now waning darkness. He focused on the illuminated blob, which had taken on an indistinctly humanoid shape, but Harry noted that the ever brightening glow didn't reveal any details about this strange place. He then put his hand in front of his face and only saw another blob that vaguely appeared hand-shaped. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, Harry thought as, second by second, the former blob morphed into his hand; he found the sight fascinating. Transfixed, he watched as if he was focusing a camera; at last the image snapped into focus and he saw, blocking his view, the familiar sight of his hand.

"There we go," said the unseen woman; unseen now because Harry's hand blocked his line of sight and not for lack of light.

Harry lowered his arm but the next thing he saw stunned him to wide-eyed astonishment and embarrassment.

"Hello, Harry dear," said a very attractive woman who looked perhaps twenty but what was really distracting was that she was completely naked.

"M-m-mom?" Stammered the rattled, officially eleven year old, young wizard who finally did the decent thing and looked away. I must be as red as her hair, Harry thought and then embarrassed himself further when the unwelcome observation, all her hair, popped into his head. He then awkwardly stuttered in observation, "Y-you're n-not wearing a-any c-clothes."

"Rather gauche, I know, son," soothed the woman who Harry thought looked like his mother. She added with a grin, "Sorry about the attire—or lack thereof—but there's nothing I can do about it; it's just the way things are here."

At that, Harry looked at himself and—mortified by what he saw—he blurted out, "I . . . I'm n-naked!"

The woman smiled in understanding and sympathy and then offered her volunteered confession, "I know how you feel, I felt the same when your father brought me Outside for the first time; it was worse—far worse—when I met your grandparents in their Outside: I couldn't look them in the eye for a week, after that."

A soft titter followed her admission which seemed to encourage the young wizard to ask, "Are . . . are you really my m-mother; are you r-really L-Lily Potter?"

"Hmm," she began pensively, before continuing, "That's a hard question to honestly answer, honey. I think I'm Lily Potter; at least the Lily Potter I was when your dad and I last updated our Matrimonial Outside, which was just after your first birthday. I may have updated my Lady's Outside after that but this me wouldn't know what that me might've done and the last time I met that me and my other 'Outside' me was prior to your birthday."

His confusion unabated, Harry glanced at the red-haired woman with riveting green eyes who claimed to be—sort of—his mother, and noticed that her cheeks now matched the shade of her hair. All her hair, he thought again with unwelcome, unnecessary and disconcerting attention to detail before shifting his mental gears and asking himself: Why is she looking so wistful and embarrassed, now? It can't be this nudity thing, either, or it would've bothered her when we first arrived 'Outside', whatever that means. She looks kinda whimsical too, I think; like she's remembering something . . . nice but not for public consumption. She sorta reminds me of someone I know, too; just not that well yet. I'll think about that later; for now this Outside thing is the bigger puzzle. I suppose finding out the 'if' and 'how' that this—persona?—is really my mum is pretty bloody important too. I wish Hermione was here; strike that, if she was here she'd be naked too and that would be . . . awkward.

"Um . . . mum?" he began, Lily smiled; overjoyed that Harry called her that.

"Yes, Harry dear?"

"What is this place, this 'Outside'? I really don't understand."

With an introspective look, she stated matter-of-factly, "We are inside the Potter Family Grimoire, Harry . . ."

". . . I thought those were—you know—books?" interrupted the green-eye wizard.

"Well . . . yes, usually but we're talking the Potter Family, here; Potters don't do 'usual' . . ."

". . . Tell me about it," Harry muttered, ominously; to Lily's ears.

"I take it you've already experienced that, then; it's kinda the Potter Family curse," she said with mixed sympathy and curiosity, "but that's something to speak of later."

Harry nodded.

"So," she resumed her explanation, "like I said: we are in the family grimoire but it's more, much more; it's also the Potter Family's history and it's like no other because this history is kept and passed on by those who lived it."

The young wizard tilted his head in obvious interest and urged, "Go on."

Lily seemed to take a deep breath and continued, "Every Potter child—whether male or female—in the direct line and upon graduation from Hogwarts, or sooner if they ascend the seat early, record their 'being' in one of these Persona Orbs and create their own Outside. When the family head or the family heir designate marries they create a second Outside, their Matrimonial Outside, with their spouse; as Potter tradition dictates, the three days subsequent to our nuptials were spent creating our Conjugal Outside. I created my Lady's Outside once we got back from our honeymoon; it takes another three days, by the way. Your dad, of course, had already created his Outside; he did his right after graduation. Once you create your Outside, all you need do is spend an hour or so every now and then visiting your Outside to keep it updated. It's a Potter custom that goes right back to the Founders Era, when Rowena Ravenclaw taught the first Potter Patron how to make the orbs, before gifting the prime recorder and the reader/updaters to him.

"Anyways, enough of all the magical technobabble," Lily happily changed topics, "let's talk about you. Tell me about my boy named Harry; what's it been like growing with the Longbottoms? Are you and Neville close? Did Alice and Frank have any more children? They hoped to have a daughter, a girl who'd pester and annoy you and Neville—when she was little—but when you got older, you and her would discover you're each other's one and only, admit the love you've had for each other all along and get married. Me and Alice would then have a whole mess of grandkids for us to spoil?"

"Um . . . mum," Harry began nervously, "I didn't grow up with the Longbottoms. Actually, I didn't know Neville until we met aboard the Hogwarts Express; he was looking for his pet toad."

"W-what happened to Frank and Alice, honey?" his mother asked.

"Well . . . wow, this is kinda rough . . . um, well what can I say?"

"Spit it out son," instructed a man, with messy black hair and hazel eyes who suddenly faded in. He joined Lily, wrapped his arm about her waist and gave her an affectionate squeeze as he studied the young wizard visiting their Matrimonial Outside. The also naked figure, who Harry knew had to be his father, then asked sternly, "What happened Harry?"

"A-after Voldemort killed you and m-mum he tried to kill me but something happened and he was banished or something, instead," Harry told them with great discomfort. "After he vanished, a few of his followers tracked down the Longbottoms and rendered them incapacitated; Neville was bought up by his Grandmother, as far as I know."

His parents' personas looked saddened by Harry's news and Lily then said, "That's horrible, the Longbottoms were good people and magically powerful; to have that happen to them . . ." Lily trailed off and concluded with a shake of her head before asking, "Does that mean you went to your godfather? I do hope that old grimm finally grew up and became a good role-model."

Harry shook his head.

"He's not a good role model or you didn't go to him?"

"Didn't go to him," Harry replied.

"Why not!" James roared.

"He went after Peter Pettigrew and was accused of killing him and twelve innocent bystanders," Harry just said, he didn't know how to soften the information. "Sirius Black was arrested and put in Azkaban, where he remains to this day—bereft of a proper trial—because everyone just knows he was your secret keeper and everyone just knows he betrayed you to Voldemort. My friends and I know he's innocent—he's my godfather by godfather oaths and rituals, after all—but they can't get a motion moved that would see him have a proper trial."

"Why that filthy rat . . ." Lily hissed in anger, "If he's really dead—and I don't believe it for a second—I'll resurrect him myself and then kill him most painfully: I might even do it a few times just to make myself feel better! I don't want to hear any of Dumbledore's 'he just made a mistake; he deserves another chance' shit! I'd rather be locked in a room with Voldemort than with Dumb-old-door: at least I know Voldemort wants to kill me, I'm not so sure about Dumbledore!"

"Lily . . ."

"Don't you Lily me, James Ignotus Potter! You and the rest of the misguided, misogynist and moronic sheeple of this backwards bigoted culture can blow it out your collective asses, for all I care!" Lily stormed at James' persona, "I knew we should've listened to Goldenfang; the goblins might kill us but they'd never stab us in the back; but no, you were enamored with the Dumbledore of yore, the Great Hero, the mighty Defeater of Grindelwald and defender of the Greater God: his Greater Good!

"So, Harry, if not Sirius; where did you go?" Lily asked, her voice once more soft and warm.

"The Dursleys," Harry whispered.

"Excuse me, you're whispering; speak up dear," said his mother's persona.

"The Dursleys."

"The Dursleys!" she began a whole new rant. "Who put you there? No, don't tell me; Dumbledore did! Why that good for nothing egotistical bastard; there's your mighty Dumbledore, James, he took it upon himself to disregard our wishes because only he knows what's best! Merlin's saggy bollocks, who cares what we wanted; we're only Harry's parents! If I could, I'd stuff the old codger's beard down his throat, jamb those damned lemon drops up his nose and watch him suffocate. And don't you dare say I'm overreacting, James; you know what Petunia and that ill-tempered walrus she married is like: do you honestly think they'd treat our son even halfway decent? I. Am. So. Angry! Our baby was left . . ."

"Mum!" Harry shouted, "Stop this; yes they were bad and treated me horribly but they can't touch me now. You told me to go see Gringotts and seek council from The Nation and The People; I did that. Vaultlord Goldenfang executed his copy of your will and bypassed the seal, which was placed on the copy you'd registered with the Office of Lines and Successions. I am the Lord Potter now and an emancipated minor. Gringotts is currently working on my guardianship issues, in both the magical and mundane world; they think it'll be resolved by Christmas: then neither Dumbledore nor the Dursleys will have any power over me or the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter."

"Um . . . Harry?" asked James.

"Yes father?"

"What year is it?" his father's persona asked.

"September 1991, dad; I'm three weeks into my first year at Hogwarts and I'm in Gryffindor, too," Harry replied.

"That's my boy," James said proudly; Lily smiled.

"Are things going well at Hogwarts?" Harry's mother asked.

"Well . . . I've made some friends, a few big—really big—mistakes and acquired the odd enemy or so; you know how it is: basic school stuff."

"Enemies already?" Lily started, she sounded disappointed, "How and who? You've only just begun Hogwarts; rivals are one thing but enemies are another thing altogether."

Harry looked down and dug his toe into the black surface that was the floor, he replied, "I kinda trounced Draco Malfoy—he deserved it mind you—on the Hogwarts Express; he was being nasty and insulting my friend Hermione."

"I could never stand the Malfoys either, son; don't feel so bad about that," James said and then asked slyly, "Who's this Hermione, your girlfriend perhaps? Is she cute? Pretty? Smart?"

"Well she's a friend and a girl and . . . well . . . yeah, she's all those things, she's also a muggle-born in my year and house," Harry replied; Lily thought his answer was a bit cagey though, especially when he added, "She was also kinda on the receiving end of my first big mistake."

"Which was?" his mum's persona asked worriedly.

Harry scratched the back of his head and avoided eye contact when he replied, "I sorta elevated her and . . . um . . . kinda made her the Lady Matriarch of the new Noble House of Granger."

"How . . . How did you manage that, Harry?" James asked in a rather stunned manner.

"Well, I meant to just give her House Potter protection, because Draco was being a consummate prick and bigot," he answered then continued. "I sorta . . . by accident . . . misspoke the Rite of Protection and ended up speaking the Rite of Petition: it was my first night here, see; I was kinda nervous."

"Okay, I get that son but why did the Rite succeed, it shouldn't have," James stated in puzzlement, "your petition would've had to come to a vote before that happened and I can't imagine the Wizengamot voting 'yea', that's for sure."

"Actually . . ." Harry began, he felt his parents' eyes bore into him, "I'm . . . well . . . also my godfather's Heir-Elect . . ."

"Of course!" James interrupted as he snapped his fingers, "Sirius—the poor old dog—is stuck in Azkaban; you're sitting as the Black Family's Lord defacto, too, aren't you?"

Harry nodded.

"That is so funny! What a great prank on the stuffed robes in the Wizengamot," James exclaimed before he asked seriously, "Can it be overturned?"

Harry shook his head and said, "No, none of the Four Families have a seated member who can present challenge to either the nominations or elevations; it's a done deal: well a done deal in a week or so."

"Nominations? Elevations? You speak as if there's more the one," Lily's persona said, her sharp ears catching Harry's discrepancies.

"Well, I kinda did it twice," Harry replied shyly.

"Who?" James asked.

"Um . . . you see," the green eyed wizard began, "I sorta summoned Lord Malfoy—well Gringotts did at my behest—to a meeting because of ongoing troubles we were having with Draco; who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut . . ."

"Sounds just like his father," James interjected.

Harry nodded and continued, "Anyways, the meeting was held in the Inquisitor's Throne and Lord Malfoy was, of course, being stupidly obstinate with the goblins . . ."

"Not surprising," his father added offhandedly.

"James, stop interrupting Harry," Lily said.

"Sorry dear; Harry, carry on. I'll try to keep my comments to myself until you're done," James said.

"It's okay dad," Harry said and resumed. "Anyways, Lord Malfoy—in his anger—tried to attack Vaultlord Diamondwill I'm told . . ."

James and Lily gasped; then Lily apologized, "Sorry honey, we couldn't help it."

Harry smiled, he understood his parents' reaction, and continued his tale, "I know, dumb but it gets better. You see Hermione and her parents were also invited to this meeting—vassals and all you know—since Hermione had borne the brunt of Draco's stupid prejudice. Anyhow, when Lord Malfoy drew his wand Emma Granger—Hermione's mum—tackled Lord Malfoy, forced her knee in the small of his back and held him face down. She had disarmed him and then broke his wand; that's when I walked in with Vaultlord Goldenfang and Ragnok."

"The Overlord!" Exclaimed James as Lily exclaimed, "I thought you said Hermione was muggle-born, like me! How did a muggle woman disarm a Deatheater?

"Yes and yes," Harry replied, then answered the last question, "Hermione's parents are dentists but her mum and dad served together in the SAS before they got married."

Lily understood what this meant; James looked confused.

"Anyways," resumed the young wizard, "things got ugly and I was forced to Interdict Lord Malfoy; unfortunately I got the Lady Malfoy—who was also present—as well."

"Why was that unfortunate, Harry?" asked James before stating, "Narcissa Black is a bitch; it's sometimes hard to believe she's Sirius' cousin or Andromeda's sister. She may not be as bad as her wack job sister, Bellatrix, but that doesn't make her any less of a bitch."

"It's complicated," Harry said simply.

"How?" James nearly growled.

"Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black; now nee Malfoy too is . . . well . . . Hermione's second mother; Hermione even calls her Cissy-mum," he began to explain. "You see Hermione's family is sorta really complicated; Narcissa is . . . well . . . kinda married to Daniel and Emma Granger . . . now."

"What do you mean by 'kinda married now', dear?" Lily asked.

"Well, they—Dan, Emma and Narcissa that is—share a three way Soul-Bind; it's kinda unprecedented."

"Unprecedented! I'd say, I thought you said this Hermione's parents were muggles; muggles can't be Soul-Bound, they need magic for that: not to mention it's a three way bond," stated James.

"Over the course of the years—eighteen or something like that—of Dan and Emma's relationship with Narcissa; they—the Grangers that is—somehow got transformed into squibs," Harry quantified.

"How?" Lily and James said in unison.

"No one knows," he replied simply before carrying on. "That aside, Narcissa was the victim of my second big mistake . . ."

"Which was?" James drawled cynically.

"I sorta made her the Lady Matriarch Narcissa Granger-Black and created the Noble House of Granger-Black; by accident."

James looked stunned; Lily managed to say, "You've created two new noble lines and both are Matriarchal? By accident?"

Harry nodded. Lily started to giggle but soon her giggle morphed to a chuckle, which then morphed to a full on belly-laugh. Her laugh infected James and soon Harry's father was kneeling and clutching his sides in laughter.

"Hey, it's not funny; at least not to them," Harry yelled, "I really fucked . . ."

". . . Harry," Lily scolded in interruption, "I don't want to hear that sort of language from my son."

"S-sorry mom," the young wizard replied demurely and looked at the floor.

"I have to agree with Harry, though, Lily; he did fu . . ."

". . . James, you'd best not finish that line," Lily interrupted crossly.

"No dear," James replied, cowed.

"Good," she said, her green eyes aglow, "we may be just personas here but don't make me hurt you, Prongs."

"Fine fine, my love," said James before adding, "Besides, Harry's too young to see that kind of play yet; maybe when he's older."

Lily slapped James on the shoulder; it sounded quite loud and must've hurt Harry thought, he rubbed his shoulder in sympathetic pain.

"Anyways, honey, let's just tone down the innuendo and have a nice long chat," Lily said.

"Okay mum," Harry replied and that is what they did until they were interrupted some time later by a frightened voice.

"Harry?" they heard a girl's scared voice, "where are we? I can hear you and a man and a woman talking but I can't see anything. Everything is black, what's going on I . . . I'm afraid."

"Hermione?" Harry said worriedly.

"Harry, help me," she nearly whimpered.

"Everything will be fine in a moment, dearie," Lily soothed, "try to relax."

"Wh-who's that, Harry?" said Hermione, her voice a little stronger; she then asked, "What is this place? Where are we? How'd we get here?"

That's my Mione, always needs to know, he thought warmly before replying, "It's . . . um . . . complicated, Mione."

"I'm the persona of Harry's mother and you're in my Matrimonial Outside, Hermione isn't it?" Lily answered for her son.

"What's a Matrimonial Outside?" Hermione the bookworm asked.

"That's rather complicated, my dear, I'd rather not go into it just now," James answered.

"Who are you?" She asked then said, "Hey, it's getting brighter in here; I can see three blobs of light."

"I'm the persona of Harry's father, I'm James Potter," he answered before adding, "If you're beginning to see light it means the orb is becoming attuned to you; that's a good thing."

"Attuned?" Hermione's voice asked.

"Yes, Hermione, attuned," Lily stated, "It means that the orb has almost finished mapping the synoptic pathways of your being. It'll only happen the once as the orbs remember visitors; after that you'll be able to interact—as fully as you do in real life—here."

"How fully?" Hermione's voice and Harry asked.

"In all ways," replied Harry's mum, just as Hermione finally faded into view. Unfortunately, she was as naked as everyone else, in this place. It didn't bother the personas of Harry's mum and dad; Harry on the other hand.

"Um, Harry," Hermione began; sounding more curious than embarrassed although she was a little red, "Why is everyone naked?"

"Just because," he managed to reply without looking at Hermione.

"Good choice, son; you've picked a great witch," the persona of James Potter said; sounding proud of his son. "She's doing a lot better than your mum did on her first time in my Outside."

The bushy-haired witch blushed prettily but emboldened by James' words, she stepped forward, extended her hand and said, "Hello Lord Potter—I guess—I'm Harry's friend, Hermione Granger; it's a pleasure to meet someone I didn't think I'd ever meet."

"You're taking all this strangeness quite well, Hermione my dear; I'm Lily Potter, it's a pleasure to meet you," Lily said, extending her hand to the young witch, who shook hers after shaking James' hand.

"Well, I'm getting used to strange—after all, Harry's my best friend and strange is normal I've found—but I'm still honored to make your acquaintance, Lady Potter," Hermione said and lowered her head in respect.

"Pish-posh, none of that stuffy stuff," Lily's persona playfully reprimanded, "I'm not 'the Lady Potter', I'm just Lily here and my dear somewhat unscrupulous but roguish husband is just James; mum and dad works too I suppose. Rank means nothing here and since what happens in here isn't really real outside of Outside; we can do or be whatever we want with only memories as consequences: it's rather freeing."

"What do you mean by 'really real', Mrs. Potter?" Hermione asked warily; her tone striking a knowing chord within Lily.

Lily took a hard look at Hermione, gave the hazel-eyed witch a conspiratorial wink, and deviously said, "My, you are a cutie, aren't you dearie, and smart too; a mite precocious I think: two mothers, eh, and one's a Black; that must be interesting."

Incensed and embarrassed, Hermione said to Harry, "How does she know that, Harry?"

Harry looked at Hermione and then quickly glanced away; seeing Hermione like this and being completely natural with it was disconcerting. He finally mumbled, "I kinda might've mentioned your . . . um . . . unique family, when I was explaining the things I did through ignorance and accident."

"Harry look at me," Hermione said sternly, "I don't mind if you look at me and if I excite you it makes me feel good too. Besides, I told you about my family; you and Danielle are going to have to get used to this because I don't see mums, me or dad changing any time soon."

"I-I'm sorry Mione," the young wizard began, "I'm not accustomed to this level of openness from anyone but Silkenrobe; it's kinda hard to get used to."

Before Hermione could answer, Lily asked, "Who's Danielle?"

Harry's father then asked, "Who's Silkenrobe?"

"Danielle is my half-sister, she's a year younger than me," Hermione replied, "we share our father but her mother is my Cissy-mum; I grew up knowing her as my Aunt Nancy Moore. I only found out about my sister a couple of weeks ago; after Harry and I had a meeting at Gringotts with her former husband Lord Lucius Malfoy. He expelled her from the Malfoy family when he was humiliated by mum and found out about me, my mum and dad. Cissy-mum and Danielle now live at my house, we're family. I'm looking forward to getting to know my sister, I always wanted one, but that'll have to wait until Christmas break."

"Okay, correct me if I'm wrong," Lily began, "You basically have two mothers, one of whom I knew as Narcissa Malfoy nee Black and you and your sister share the same father."

Hermione nodded but politely corrected, "Not 'basically' she is. Cissy-mum is as much my mother as my birth mother is my mother we just don't share a blood connection. I hope Dani will come to feel the same for her Emma-mum as I do for my Cissy-mum but it must be really tough on her."

"That's some fine family dynamics you've got going there, Hermione love," said Harry's mum, "we must have your mums—both of them—your father and your sister over sometime. We can have tea."

"Tea?" Hermione asked, "I don't understand; besides how would they get here?"

"How did you get here, Hermione honey?" Lily asked.

"Well, you see, I'd had just had a meeting with some . . . um . . . faculty and I needed to talk to Harry about it," Hermione began, the Potter personas noticed the young witch's hesitation but said nothing. "When I got upstairs, I found Harry asleep—or what I thought was asleep—and when I called he didn't wake. I then sat beside him and went to touch his hand, hoping to wake him gently. Suddenly, I found myself swallowed by darkness and now I'm here."

"She must've touched The Stand," James said, "It's a good thing you were sitting, Hermione; you'd have risked being injured by a fall otherwise."

"Well, I guess you and Harry need to go; it was nice meeting you Hermione, you're welcome back anytime," Lily said.

"One question; how do we go back?" Harry asked.

"Another question: who's Silkenrobe?" James asked facetiously and still curious.

"Huh? She's Goldenfang's cute she-goblin assistant; what does she have to with anything?" Hermione asked innocently

Lily and James just raised their eyebrows in unison but said nothing about the young witch's odd choice of words. Instead, Lily answered Harry's question by saying, "You just decide to leave and viola you're back inside."

"Easy enough, I suppose; I guess me and Hermione need to go," Harry said.

"Don't you or Hermione be strangers now, Harry," Lily urged with a smile, "James and me are really going to enjoy teaching you; both of you."

"I won't be mum; bye, see you later," Harry said and suddenly vanished.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Potter," Hermione said, "I have a ton of questions to ask but I'll wait till next time but I really need to talk to Harry right now; I don't mean to be secretive but I'm not sure what to say right now, please forgive me."

"It's fine honey," Lily said warmly. "Me and James understand; prudence is usually wise when it comes to some things. I'd love to say we'll be looking forward to hearing all about this secret of yours but once you leave; James and me sorta go into a timeless, dreamless sleep until you or someone else comes back."

"I don't really understand but I want to; like I said I'll have a ton of questions next time but for now . . ."

". . . Hermione?" Lily interrupted.

"Mrs. Potter?" she replied.

"Ask Harry to introduce you to my Lady's Outside," she answered, "that way we can have a good ole heart to heart girls' chat, without any men about; my other Outside will love you I'm sure. Perhaps my other Outside me and you can visit me here; we can send the men off to do man things or maybe we can all just play together."

"I'm sorry?" Hermione said as she tilted her head in question.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione; Lily is being surprisingly naughty," James playfully quipped, "but like my wife said, don't be a stranger, love."

"I won't be Mr. and Mrs. Potter too much to learn to do that and I'm really curious but for now, good bye," Hermione said and next she found herself waking up beside Harry. They were sitting at the table in the Patrons and Founders' Chambers. Seeing Harry, she asked, "How long were we gone?"

Harry glanced at his watch and said, "Well, it looks like I was gone for about an hour. Wow, I feel really well rested; how do you feel, Mione?"

"I feel well rested too Harry; but that whole experience was about the weirdest I've ever had," said Hermione.

"I'd say and weird is getting normal for us too," Harry agreed before asking. "What did the Founders want, Hermione?"

"Um . . . Sal and everyone else want me to be Slytherin's Avatar; they even officially asked me," Hermione replied, "I really wish I could talk to mum and Cissy-mum before I answer; they said they'd like my answer by Samhain but I don't know what to do Harry."

"Slytherin's Avatar, wow they really want to make a statement, don't they?" Harry said, "I really thought Rowena was going to ask you; she's taken quite the shinning to you after all."

"I know, Harry, I was kinda expecting her to ask but she said she has a prospect who is actually of her blood—albeit quite distant—and that that person will be here next year," Hermione advised him.

"So, what does Miss Lady Matriarch Hermione Granger think about all this?" Harry teased.

"I don't know, for sure; like I said, I wish I could talk to my mums," said the young witch, who she nibbled her bottom lip for a moment before adding, "I don't want to put any of this in writing, either; too sensitive."

"Well you don't have to answer right now, Mione; besides it's lunch time and I'm kinda hungry, aren't you?" asked the young wizard and patron.

"Yes and no, Harry; I've got a lot on my mind, obviously, but I know in should eat," she replied.

"Allow me to escort you to lunch, Milady," Harry said playfully and waggled his eyebrows; he stood and offered his elbow to Hermione.

Smiling, she stood and linked her arm in his and said, "Mr. Potter you are incorrigible; what's a lady to think?"

Together, the young witch and wizard walked to the chamber's exit and the wall grew transparent. Seeing no one on the other side, they stepped through the Hogwarts crest and into the Entry Hall. They turned and began heading to the Great Hall—the smell of lunch making their stomachs growl—and almost walked into Professor Snape as they were about to join their peers for lunch.

"Ah, Miss Granger, I was looking for you," Professor Snape said; he sounded ominous but that was how he usually sounded so it was frightening.

"Professor Snape," Hermione replied politely, "what can I do for you?"

"I seem to require your assistance, Miss Granger," he began awkwardly, "I understand that you are in contact with my Goddaughter. I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to send my letter to her, it's her birthday; all the owls I've sent have come back with my letters undelivered. I'm glad, though, that Dani and Narcissa are safe behind some strong wards but I do miss the letters, reading and writing them."

"I'd be happy to help you, Professor," Hermione said and, distracted from earlier and without thinking, called out, "Floozy."

A young house popped in, "Does my Miss Granger need Floozy?"

"That's a house-elf," Severus Snape stated the obvious but unexpected, he was glad there were no other students around too, "why did a house-elf just answer a student's call?"

"Professor Snape," Harry began, using his Lord Potter tone; Hermione shivered, "Hermione just made a bit of a mistake and again you've been exposed to a matter that is best not shared with others; I will tell you this though: Hermione came by Floozy both honestly and innocently as a gift for her birthday. We'll not speak of who gifted Floozy to Hermione but suffice it to say you'd have a difficult time believing it; please don't pry, Professor."

"I won't, Lord Potter," Severus replied solemnly.

"I'm sorry Harry," Hermione began, she was looking at the floor, "I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay, Mione; you've got a lot on your mind," the green eyed wizard said softly. "Anyways, since Floozy is here we may as well take advantage of it."

"Yes Harry," Hermione agreed, turned to her house-elf and said, "Floozy, Professor Snape his Danielle's godfather, please take . . ."

With a resounding 'pop'; Floozy, anticipating her mistress' request, vanished with Professor Snape. Harry shook his head, rolled his eyes and said in resignation, "House elves; go figure. Well I suppose Snape's birthday greeting to Dani is going to be a little more personal than he anticipated. By the way, Mione, have you told your family about Floozy?"

Hermione smiled weakly and shook her head; she said, "Haven't really had a chance; I only got Floozy on Thursday: I guess mums, dad, Dani and Dobby are going to be surprised."

"I suppose," Harry agreed, before adding, "Let's go get lunch, Hermione, things are pretty much out of our hands for now."

Floozy suddenly popped into view and nearly shouted, "Missy Hermy! Missy Hermy! Floozy be making big big mistake. Floozy be taking Professy snaky to Missy's house when suddenly Professy Snaky be collapsing and not being able to use magic and even Floozy's magic not be working if Floozy be touching Professy Snaky. Missy and master must come."