Wolf Daughter

by Kendianna

Daughter of Fenrir Greyback and his late wife, Hermione is destined to be the next alpha one day with her adopted brother Harry as her loyal beta. When she accidentally claims the lordship of the house of Black, her family’s situation radically changes. Werewolves aren’t allowed at Hogwarts, but who would dare keep the head of a noble house from their rightful magical education?

10. A week in the life of Lady Longbottom

Augusta reflects on raising her grandson, signs an important contract, and fixes a mistake

Augusta Longbottom was no fool, she was very aware of the many mistakes she'd made trying to raise Neville in his father's image. It had taken her years and caused her unimaginable pain, but she was nearly ready to at least privately admit to herself that the boy was not and never would be a replacement for her Frank. He was his own little person, and she'd just have to do her best to accept him as he was.

Although she had wanted to love him right from the very beginning, she often struggled to over the years. The boy was just so different from her Frank in so many awkward and difficult ways. He was clumsy and chubby. He had great big wonky front teeth and a stutter. He wasn't exactly dim witted but the boy would forget his head if it wasn't firmly attached. Worst of all in her opinion, he was as quiet as a mouse and terrified of his own shadow - she simply hadn't the foggiest idea of how to nurture such a meek and frightened little thing.

But the moments where he shone like a little gem were almost worse. He could be so sweet, polite, and thoughtful at times that she was reminded of her Frank in the most heart wrenching way. She didn't mean to push the child away but her old soul was more fragile than she let on, and seeing her boy's doppelgänger come to life took her breath away at times like a nightmare.

Then there was the issue of his magic. She knew he'd had it as an infant and toddler - Frank and Alice had always raved about the rainbow bubbles he'd make float in the tub and the sweets he'd summon down from high shelves. As far as she knew though, the last magic he'd done was his explosion of accidental defensive magic during his parents' torture. His initial amplified scream had deafened the Lestranges, but only served to make them angrier and their spells turn even crueler.

When they had gone to turn their wands on him he'd turned himself invisible and they hadn't been able to find him the entire rest of the night. They had ransacked the house looking for him after they'd left poor Frank and Alice catatonic on the floor, but he had somehow evaded them until the aurors arrived. No one would have ever known the ordeal the poor baby had gone through that whole night if the Crouch boy, the most stable of the lot of them, hadn't mentioned it offhandedly in his testimony before the wizengamot.

Child specialist healers from across the country and even one from the continent had all assured her that his experience, though traumatic, shouldn't necessarily have any lasting negative impact on his magic later in life. But still he gave not a single sign of having any magic for years and years. She'd had his core examined by masters who confirmed that it was neither fractured nor in any way diminished, "Just shy" they'd said "and cautious after what he's been through. It'll come out again when he needs it, if he's ever hurt or in danger. Give him time"

How Augusta regretted telling her foolish fop of a brother that! She'd come home from the wizengamot one afternoon to find him dangling her grandson out of an attic window by his ankles, the poor boy crying in terror. At that moment she had completely frozen - unable to run forward to help him, unable to pull out her wand, unable even to scream. It was like a scene out of one of her worst nightmares, and her stupid brother was laughing!

The world felt like it had slowed down then, as he noticed her where she was standing by the front gate and let go of one ankle to wave cheerfully. The little leg, finally free, had kicked wildly and come into contact with her idiot brother's stupidly large chin. Served him right, but the other ankle was summarily dropped and her precious boy dropped from the- gods be good, the fourth story! A scream ripped itself from her chest and without even realizing her wand was in her hand she sent the most potent non-lethal hex she knew at her brother like a lightning bolt from Zeus' own quiver.

Tearing her eyes away, not even caring to see her missile strike true, she made to cast a cushioning charm or perhaps an arresto momentum, or gods maybe both? But to her absolute shock Neville had bounced off of the gabled roof over the second floor window with an audible boi-oi-oing noise. He shot back up into the sky and came down on the grass in front of her with another boinging bounce, the earth beneath him jiggling like jello. His screams of horror had turned into giggles and squeals of delight as he bounced again and again on the lawn, doing somersaults in the air. She poked the grass with her toe and it felt rock solid, but each time he landed it turned as springy as a trampoline for him and him alone.

It was like she had just taken a ride on one of the mine carts at Gringotts, her guts churned and she felt as though she had emotional whiplash. She had been so terrified and then so angry and now she was so relieved. She wanted to scoop her grandson up into her arms and hold him for the rest of the day. Or for forever. But she didn't know how to say that to him, they'd never had a particularly warm relationship. Going for nurturing, she found herself instead barking harshly for him to stop bouncing about like a loon. She winced - bugger!

The boy's jumps trailed off in height until he was standing still on the lawn, wringing his hands and wearing a somber look on his little face. He shuffled over to her and apologized for getting too excited, and she hated it. Hated herself. Hated her brother. Hated the coldness and the distance between him. She reached out both of her hands and clutched desperately at her grandson's shoulders, holding him at arms length and inspecting him for signs of harm. Meaning to say something comforting about how terrible that had been of her idiot brother and how glad she was that Neville was alive and well, she instead croaked out "Algie certainly has no cause to say you're not magical anymore, does he?"

Gods be good but she could be worse than her bloody grandson at times when it came to expressing herself! His poor little face had fallen and she instantly knew she'd said the wrong thing. She wanted to apologize, to tell him how much he meant to her, to say his magic didn't matter as long as he was alive and well, but that wasn't the woman she was or the one she'd been raised to be. One didn't backpedal, one moved ever forward.

With no other available course of action, she pulled the boy into an awkward and somewhat cold hug. But it was a hug all the same. As she clutched his head to her breast a little more forcefully than was probably comfortable for him, she hoped he would understand at least in part what she meant by it. He finally hugged her as well, patting her back lightly.

Over the next few years his confidence may not have exactly grown in leaps and bounds, but she saw noticeable signs of him beginning to come into himself. If allowed to he would gladly spend practically the entire day outside in the gardens and greenhouses and then come in blissfully unaware or uncaring that he was covered head to toe in dirt and grass and plant matter and smelling absolutely wretched (she was quite certain that there was an impervious layer of dirt beneath his fingernails that had taken up permanent residence there). Though she despised the outdoor smells and detritus that he often tracked into her home, she hadn't the heart to stop him from something he clearly enjoyed more than anything else.

Unfortunately she was afraid she'd managed to bring to a screeching halt whatever stride he'd been building, and possibly even destroyed much of the good progress he'd made. Neville had been so excited to go to Diagon Alley and get his school things and his own wand. Why hadn't she just let him get his own wand like every other child? His eyes were lit up like stars as they passed the wand shop, and his voice had been practically reverent when he'd asked her what type of wood she thought might suit him best. Before she'd even realized she was speaking she'd told him in no uncertain terms that he'd be using his father's wand, that it was still perfectly serviceable and would do him just fine. He had looked absolutely devastated, and although she instantly regretted her words she wouldn't go back on them.

All she knew was that she had desperately wanted to avoid that tactless old goat Garrick Ollivander and his altogether too insightful remarks. She was just sure he'd say something about Frank and Alice or that would send her spiraling. She knew rationally that Neville should really have his own wand, but she'd honestly rather neither of them have to hear whatever he might have had to say about their family in general. He was just too unpredictable, and liable to say something entirely out of pocket.

It seemed like such a small thing at the time, he may have been disappointed but everything else he'd gotten had been new firsthand. His own robes and books and supplies. She'd even let him pick out a pet and not made a peep when he chose a toad, which she rather didn't care for but respected as a familiar. She should have realized sooner what a truly disastrous mistake her decision about the wand was, and when she did catch on she should have done something about it instead of ignoring her instincts. The confidence he'd been gaining seemed to dissolve, and he backslid into all of his worst habits over the last few weeks before school started. Stuttering and stammering, tripping over things constantly, and forgetting everything and anything you told him.

She'd gotten him a rememberall as a gift in the hopes of helping him stay better focused, and though he hadn't made a single peep of a complaint the look on his face had made it plain that he had clearly taken it terribly. She had tried to put herself in his awkward young shoes and found that she couldn't really blame him for being embarrassed that he was having such trouble he needed the gift of a memory aid. She supposed she could see how it may have been embarrassing, but it was too late to take it back and she could only hope that it would at least prove useful to him.

Everything in her told her she'd failed her boy as she dropped him off at the train for school. Her grandson was woefully unprepared and would of course inevitably underperform, and it was all her fault for being stubborn and stuck in her ways. As they waited on the platform he practically radiated misery, one could be forgiven for interpreting his expression and body language as a testament that he was headed straight for the gallows. She hated to let him leave her sight in a mood this dark, headed off into a completely new environment without even the benefit of friends or family at his side.

Leave he eventually did though as the train pulled into the station, and she'd never felt a stronger or more urgent instinct to go and collect him and bring him home to the safety of her supervision. She remembered how cruel children could be and she hoped he wouldn't be bullied too terribly, that his classmates and housemates would be able to see and appreciate his strengths even if he couldn't yet.

After watching the train pull away from the station, she headed home and spent the afternoon drinking herself silly for the first time in nearly a decade. When she woke up later in the night with a pounding headache she found herself surrounded by crumpled drafts of a letter to Minerva pathetically begging the woman to let her homeschool her boy. Frantic, she called for Thistle to make sure she hadn't actually sent one, and to her immense relief her elf assured her no owls had left the estate.

She couldn't help but laugh at her own dramatic drunken antics, and tucked herself comfortably into her own bed for the rest of the night.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Augusta was quite surprised to have a letter waiting for her on her breakfast table the next morning. She was a notoriously early riser even after a night of foolish drinking, and that someone had gotten up far enough before her to surprise her with correspondence over her morning meal was nothing short of suspicious. Her head still swimming a bit, she narrowed her eyes and pulled it towards her. It bore a familiar crest - pressed into the wax was the official Longbottom seal, and her eyes widened upon seeing it. Her Neville was writing to her already? She immediately feared the worst, what could have possibly happened in the last 24 hours for him to have to write her a formal letter about?

She knew she must have taught him how to draft one at some point during his many childhood etiquette lessons, but she'd certainly never expected to actually receive one from him. She lifted the seal up with the flat side of her knife rather than cutting it, she hadn't realized he'd even taken his stamp with him. She was quite proud he'd done the impression so well, it was even and round and the edges were perfectly tidy. As she opened the letter and began to read it she grinned at the heading - her boy was a lion after all!

Dated the first of September, in the year 1991
From the 1st year boys dorm
Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts School

Dear Gran,

You'll surely have already realized from the heading, but I'm proud to report that I was sorted into Gryffindor house like my parents before me, and like you and grandfather both were as well. I hope you are pleased to hear this. The tower is as cozy and comfortable as you've always described, and as I haven't figured out where the owlery is yet I write this from my dorm room to be delivered via Thistle for you to read in the morning.

I think you will be even more pleased to learn that I have managed to make a very good friend already on the train ride here. I am excited to report that she is also the witch I intend to marry. Please do not tell her I said that when you meet her, I haven't told her yet and would like to do so myself when the time is right!

Her name is Lady Hermione Elena Greyback, and she is a werewolf and the new Head of the house of Black. This may be shocking, but please bear in mind that she is also the friendliest, kindest, loveliest, and smartest person I have ever had the privilege of meeting. We are young, but I am very certain of my heart.

(We are the same age, if that was a concern. I do not yet know how she was elevated to head of her house. She also happens to be the adopted twin sibling of Harry Potter, who I was able to make friends with as well. I'm not clear on exactly how that works yet either. If her family name is of concern, she assures me that rumors about her father's reputation are false.)

I left you at the train station a boy but now with love and friendship in my heart I feel like a young man. Thank you for the rememberall, and I'm sorry for not appreciating more the spirit in which it was given. On reflection, I'm sure it will be very helpful in my studies.

I'll write you again soon,
Neville

Augusta wondered what the noise she was hearing was, and realized quite belatedly that it was her own snorts of braying unladylike laughter. Reading it through again, her heartstrings were tugged by the memory of a very similar letter she had received from Frank only a few days into his first year at school. He too had met the love of his life on the train and had been equally determined to marry her the moment they came of age. Cheeky fuckers, bold as brass the both of her boys.

She sighed in utter contentment, delighted that he'd clearly gotten back whatever confidence he'd lost in the last month or so. She hadn't set him back irreversibly as she had feared she might have. Thank all the gods.

It did seem like she still had some things to worry about however. As much as he'd warned her not to be concerned, and she counted two separate instances where he had done so explicitly, there were some rather important matters to address. Her last name was Greyback, which Neville all but confirmed meant she was his daughter. He was well known as one of the most brutal and vicious killers still alive after the war, still doing his departed lord's work and attacking muggles in their homes.

She considered the rumors that circulated wizarding Britain and the lack of evidence she'd seen to back them up, and wondered at the discrepancy. People tended to be idiots, but gossip usually came from some place of at least partial fact. Augusta could see how Greyback's reputation may have been exaggerated, but couldn't imagine that it was entirely fabricated. There had to be a nugget of truth somewhere in the rumors, and that was enough to make her hands tremble with fear on the edges of the letter she held.

"Thistle!" She gasped, calling for her elf and feeling a minuscule tug at her chest as the summon reached out to draw her near. She popped into place on the arm rest of her chair "Yes, Mistress?" The elf inquired curiously. She was a young thing with wide enormous eyes, and was only a single human generation old. Neville had been the very first Longbottom baby she had helped raise. Her skin was closer to a purplish grey than the greenish grey of most British elves, as she had been a gift from a friend on the continent.

"Thistle, you brought this letter from Hogwarts last night?" She asked and the elf nodded her little head "Did Neville say anything to you when you saw him, or was there anyone else there with him?" She demanded a little more harshly than she meant to, and she winced when her elf covered her eyes and shook her head "No Mistress! Thistle be going straight to the young Master and bringing it back, she only be telling him yes sir and goodnight. The only other people Thistle is seeing is being the three young sirs asleep in their beds in the dormitory" she said, and Augusta relaxed marginally and put her hand on the elf's small shoulder.

"I'm sorry for being harsh with you Thistle. You see, I have a difficult task for you, my dear, but it's essential to keeping our Neville safe at school" she said firmly, and the elf perked up and looked eager. Nodding enthusiastically, she fiddled with the collar of the funny little dress she'd fashioned from a scavenged swath of jacquard upholstery fabric that had been in the attic for years "What shall Thistle be doing, Mistress?" She asked tremulously.

Augusta sighed, unsure of where to begin and how much to tell the elf "Our boy has… a new friend that we need to make sure won't be a bad influence. He says she's perfectly friendly and kind and I'm want to believe him, but Thistle the girl is a werewolf-" she was interrupted by the little elf yelping and tugging on her ears fearfully, pulling them across her face to cover her eyes.

She reached out and patted her shoulder "I know, dear, I was scared to hear it myself. That's why this is so urgent. I need to know more to be sure that he's safe, and so I need you to go and watch and find out about her for me. I'll give you a potion you can take that should hide your scent - as long as you've disillusioned yourself and don't make any noises, the girl shouldn't be able to tell you're there watching. I want you to watch for at least a full day, maybe even longer. This is your top priority until I call you back to report, understand? You don't have to worry about taking care of your duties here around the house, Rosie can take care of everything else here while you're gone" she said firmly.

Her elf seemed much less afraid knowing she'd be able to hide "Thistle shall be watching the young Master or just his wolfy friend?" She asked, and Augusta considered this "Watch how they interact, and see if she's really as nice to him as he thinks. He hasn't had friends before so maybe she's teasing him and he doesn't realize it. Pay attention for things like that, but when they aren't together stick to her and see what else she does and who else she talks to. Her name is Hermione Greyback, and I want to know everything you can find out about her" she told her elf.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thistle was gone for nearly two and a half days before she finally came back to the estate, and Augusta was practically chomping at the bit to hear what the elf had to report. She clapped her hands together with excitement in a way she hadn't since she was a girl, and summoned Rosie to bring the other elf something to eat or drink if she needed it.

In rare form, Thistle sat herself right upon the table and lay down flat on her back for a few minutes with her eyes closed. She breathed heavily and her skin glowed a bit, clearly reintegrating herself into the ward stones after being away for awhile. She chuckled a bit "Much calmer here, isn't it my dear?" She said softly, and the elf wheezed a little laugh "The castle's magic is being so loud Mistress, it is making the estate feel like the quietest place in the whole entire world" she croaked.

After a good five minutes the elf sat back up fresh as a daisy, visibly revitalized and alert. "Thistle is having much to report! What is Mistress wanting to hear first?" She asked, and without even needing to think twice Augusta asked the first thing on her mind "Please Thistle, is my Neville safe around that girl? Is there even the slightest chance of her hurting him?" She beseeched the elf desperately, reaching out and clasping her little hands in her own.

For a young elf, the soft smile Thistle gave her was very knowing "There is being no one the young Master is safer with, Mistress. It is being very good timing that Thistle is arriving so early at the school on the first day after the train, as she is hearing an important conversation between the young Missy and her brother. Missy Hermie is telling her brother that our young Master Neville is being her true mate!" The elf said quite dreamily, her hands over her heart and a faraway romantic look in her eyes "It is being such a blessing Mistress, so few magical beings is granted their mates in their lifetime! Our young Master is being so lucky he is meeting his Missy at such a young age"

Augusta had heard many outlandish things in her life, but rarely had they been said to her with such overwhelmingly earnest sincerity. That alone gave her pause and made her give her first impression of the statement a second thinking over. She nodded absentmindedly for Thistle to go on.

"Young Missy is being just as kind and good and friendly as young Master is saying! She be very smart and is helping him in all their classes and never letting him get lost in the castle. She be introducing him to her cousins the Weasleys and the Malfoy boy and helping him make friends with them. She be talking about him to anyone who will listen when he is not being around about how sweet and funny he is being and how much she is liking him. She is being a very active child, Mistress! She is running and jumping around everywhere she is going and having lots of fun, and helping young Master have lots of fun too. Young Missy's hearing and smelling is being very good, Mistress - she is able to be talking with her brother across the entire hall during meal time at a whisper, and is able to be telling what someone had for lunch yesterday!"

The elf kept happily rambling on and on about the girl and all the many positive attributes that made the sun shine out of her arse, and Augusta just took it all in with a growing sense of awe and admiration for the child. Whatever it meant that she thought her grandson was her mate, the girl was clearly very good for him and to him. That was the important thing. Everything else could shake itself out.

"And she's not the slightest bit violent or out of control?" She asked, needing to make sure. To her surprise the elf dithered a bit "Out of control - absolutely not, Mistress. Young Missy is having complete control over her wolf and her shift, she is being more like an animagus than a normal werewolfy… And Missy Hermie is never being violent to young Master, but she is being very comfortable ah… growling or showing her clawsies to other students if they is being rude or naughty? Like a real wolf. Young Missy is acting like she is being raised not knowing people is scared of werewolvesies" Thistle said, shaking her head in confusion, brows furrowed.

"So she's willing to openly defend herself and protect what she sees as hers… And she sees our Neville as hers. Have you seen her be possessive of him, or keep him from making other friends?" She asked thoughtfully, rubbing her chin. Thistle blushed bright purple on her high cheekbones "Ahh, no Mistress. In fact, knowing our young Master… he is probably making more friends with Missy Hermie by his side than he would be without her. She and her brother is both being very popular and most of the other first years is wanting to be friends with them except for some of the slithery snakies, and she is making them all include the young master if they is wanting to be getting to know her" the elf admitted quite candidly.

Augusta couldn't help but be impressed with the girl, despite not yet having met her. Realizing the last detail she'd forgotten, she turned her gaze back to Thistle "She does sound like a lovely young lady. Now tell me my dear, what does she look like so I can have an image in my mind the next time he writes" here her elf finally hesitated, pointedly looking down at her little feet.

"Thistle? What does she look like?" She asked again, a bit firmer. The elf gulped, and still wouldn't meet her eyes "Missy Hermie is having the classical bearing of her house, Mistress" she said softly "She is being very short, she is being pale of skin, she is having lots of long curly dark brown hair, and she is-… she is having light grey eyes, Mistress. The grey eyes of the house of Black" she finished, her voice barely above a whispering sigh.

It felt as if her blood turned to ice in her veins. For all she had feared a child with Greyback for a father, she suddenly needed to know more than anything who the girl's mother was. It couldn't be… no it couldn't be. Bellatrix had been crazy, she had never been capable of bringing a child into the world without killing it. It wasn't possible.

She tried to tell herself to calm herself down and realized she was hyperventilating wildly. Thistle was panicking over her, calling for Rosie and Thorn to come and help settle her. She felt like she was standing outside of her body watching herself have a heart attack. There was a terrible wrenching pain in her chest. She slammed back into her body and gasped out for one of them to summon a healer, before her vision blacked out and she was dead to the world.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She came to with none other than Healer Tonks seated at her bedside. Andromeda had helped care for Gerald before he'd passed, and she trusted no one more to see that she survived whatever that terrible spell had been. She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, and was pleased to find it didn't hurt anymore and that her breath came easily.

"Hello Auggie," The younger woman said with a wry smile, and Augusta scowled at the impertinent nickname. She tried to sit up and Andromeda helped her with a strong hand, fluffing a pillow for between her back and the hard wooden headboard. Feeling as though at least some small part of her dignity had returned to her by virtue of being upright, she steeled her spine "You can be honest - how bad is it, Andy?" She asked, her voice more fearless than she felt.

The Healer rolled her eyes and laughed at her, the rude cow "Your heart is absolutely fine, Augusta. You're as healthy as a horse you utter hypochondriac. You did have a right bludger of a panic attack, though. Your poor terrified elves here nearly broke my office door down - care to tell me what upset you so?" She asked not the least bit delicately, handing her a cup of tea. It was just the way she took it, and she glanced around her bedchamber and saw Rosie and Thistle holding themselves in the far corner of the room looking absolutely miserable.

Tutting and "tsk"-ing, she held her hand out in their direction and beckoned them over, and they popped onto her bed on either side of her and laid their little heads in her lap cooing and crying. She sat her cup down on the small table next to her bedside and settled each of her hands on their backs gently. They were such devoted creatures, and she was incredibly grateful for their care and companionship "I'm terribly sorry for frightening you, my dears. Healer Tonks has just told me I'm quite fine so there's really nothing to worry about at all. I just had a moment of silliness, but I'm still very glad you went to get her for me" she said with feeling, meaning every word down to her old bones.

Rosie looked up with her huge red-rimmed eyes and nodded silently, but Thistle, still so young and sensitive, continued sobbing into her little dress and refused to uncover her face from beneath her floppy ears. She sighed softly "My dear, you did nothing wrong. You only told me what I asked you to find out. I'm sorry for reacting the way I did, and I'm glad you told me" she insisted. The tiny creature let out a wretched whimper and shook her head vehemently, and next to her Rosie spoke up "When Mistress be collapsings, poor silly Thistle is thinking she is killing her and breaking their bond. Rosie is having to be restraining Thistle so she is not hurting herself, Mistress" the elf said somberly, not raising her eyes.

Both women in the room inhaled sharply at that, and tears welled in Augusta's eyes. She cleared her throat and addressed the creature firmly "Thistle, look at me please!" She commanded, and the elf did so slowly and rather unwillingly.

She cupped the elf's little chin, rubbing her thumb over her cheek "Thistle as your Mistress I hereby command you that you are never to hurt yourself while you are in the service of the Longbottom family. Even if you think you have misbehaved or displeased us somehow. Even if you think you deserve it. Even if you have made a horrible mistake. You are never to intentionally lay a hand a tool or a weapon upon yourself with intent to do harm, you are never to intentionally ingest anything that may cause you pain or death, you are never to intentionally allow yourself to be injured by an untamed animal or dangerous person. If you ever desire to cause yourself harm you are to come to me and tell me about these feelings. Do you understand these orders? Do you swear to obey them?" She demanded.

The elf closed her eyes and nodded, and her body went boneless as she relaxed fully into Augusta's lap. She glanced at Rosie, "Those orders apply to you as well, my dear. Though I know you'd never need them" she said softly. Leaning back and closing her own eyes, she felt winded. She raised her voice slightly when she next spoke, addressing the other woman still in the room "I'm sorry you made the trip here for nothing other than a bit of foolish worry, but I'm actually quite glad to see you Andy. You're just the woman who might have some answers to my questions, you see" she said with a little smile.

Summoning Neville's letter from the other day, she passed it to her long time friend and healer "What exactly do you make of that, hmm? I've had Thistle here trailing the girl for the last few days, and I'll admit I was quite pleased with what I heard about her until she described her appearance. I may have-… well I can admit that I may have over reacted a tad" she mumbled, stalwartly refusing to be embarrassed. She opened her eyes and glanced at Andromeda with a raised brow and narrowed eyes "I'm guessing you can fill in the details my grandson is unclear on? Seeing as the girl is your head of house. Congratulations on your reinstatement, by the way" she said genuinely.

Augusta listened as the other woman told her the most outrageous tale of a child accidentally challenging the wrong house ring and being accepted anyways. Of a kind and compassionate young heart who immediately sought to help and get to know her family, and to right wrongs that had been done wherever she saw them. Of a man whose life had been twisted and lied about for reasons none of them understood. And most importantly, a girl whose mother was not Bellatrix.

"Alphard's Hydra? Why, I scarcely remember her at all. She always stayed on the sidelines, never choosing sides or making waves, practically blended into the wallpaper" she thought aloud, and was surprised to see Andromeda shake her head in disagreement, brow furrowed. "She may have kept a publicly neutral facade, but she did some very big things in the background. She's the only Black who ever refused their own inheritance, she insisted her father leave it to me and Sirius after we were disowned, and the rest of it she anonymously donated to the light side's war effort. Nearly every move Dumbledore's order made in those last few years was underwritten directly out of her personal pocketbook. I still don't know exactly why she was killed but that had to have been part of it. Someone in you-know-who's ranks must have found a paper trail and followed it back to her" she said sadly.

This gave her pause, and made her reconsider the Black family in an entirely new light. She had known Alphard quite well, they had been contemporaries and school friends. Privately she had always considered him and the woman before her to be some of the only Blacks worth knowing. Lucretia and Cedrella had been alright, but they'd both been quite a bit older than her and she'd never gotten along particularly well with either of them. Walburga wasn't even worth mentioning, and quite frankly she was glad the detestable woman was in the grave.

She suddenly wished she'd paid more attention to Hydra Black while she'd still been around, it seemed like she'd missed out on a rare gem.

"She's so much like her mother it blows me away sometimes, bold and fearless and always following her heart" Andromeda continued "it's funny, you know Hermione actually sent me a letter just the other day asking how one goes about asking permission from a head of house to court a young man under their care. Her etiquette lessons with Narcissa hadn't covered it yet" she said with a devious smirk.

Augusta felt like she herself had been blown away as well, it seemed the girl meant business just as much as her grandson. She was strangely relieved by that.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The very next day found Augusta heading to the school for a meeting of the board of governors. It was quite early in the year for them to be convening, and she wondered nervously if it had anything to do with the Greyback children. She knew there had to be a great deal of parents that would be profoundly outraged at the idea of the two of them being educated alongside their own little darlings.

As she crossed through the ancient cast iron gates, she felt the castle's magic rush to meet her own, and it felt somehow more robust than in years past. If she had feathers they'd be rustled, and she hurried up the path and into the school. Minerva met her at the doors, and greeted her politely enough. For them, anyways. She'd deck anyone else who dared to call her a "Cantankerous old heifer," and she certainly would never address anyone else in the world as a "fussy wee pussycat"

As they made their way up to the space the board traditionally met in, she asked her friend under her breath if it was about what she suspected. Minerva looked at her askance and she rolled her eyes "My Neville sent me a letter and then Andy filled me in the rest of the way" she huffed impatiently "I know all about those two"

The other woman hissed at her lightly, and then "tsk"ed and looked away. She shook her head "Yes, alright! Their father and family lawyer are here already, they plan to have some sort of educational contract reviewed. I can't tell you any more because that's all I know, so don't ask me" she said rather peevishly. Augusta raised a single brow at her "Fine, don't tell me" she muttered.

Immeasurably thankful she didn't have to cart her sorry old arse up all seven sets of stairways, she entered the second floor classroom they turned into a makeshift conference hall whenever they needed to convene. To her great displeasure, the first thing she heard as she crossed the threshold was Malfoy's pompous slimy voice buttering up some of the old guard who should have known better than to be so easily flattered by his sweet nothings.

She fought not to roll her eyes at he yet again mentioned his close and intimate friendship with the minister. Intimate was right, his hand was more often than not so far up the other man's arse he could be confused for a muppet. Not even bothering to hide her sneer of distaste, she made her way to the head of the table and took her rightful seat as chairperson of the board. She did not miss his scowl, and relished it a bit hedonistically - he was deeply and openly resentful that she was both resistant to his charms and able to see so clearly through them.

Settling in and glancing around the room, she saw that everyone was present and cleared her throat pointedly to usher them to their places. Looking like children caught red-handed sneaking sweets after bedtime, they all slunk to their seats around the table. She noticed there were two visitors she hadn't accounted for, and she suspected she knew exactly who they were and what they were there for. For propriety's sake she activated the dicta-quill that took the official minutes and opened the meeting.

"On this morning of Thursday, September the fifth, 1991, I, Augusta Fredericka Longbottom, chairperson of this board, do hereby call into order this meeting of the Hogwarts School's Board of Governors" She said with all appropriate officiousness. She looked down over the top of her spectacles at the extra persons in the room "Board members, please sound off for the record" she instructed her colleagues.

"Professor Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress and faculty liaison, present"

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, board treasurer, present" (one son at school, Draco)

"Jesterly Fawley, board secretary, present" (two sons at school, Jacob and Johnathan)

"Hyperion Greengrass, present" (one daughter at school, Daphne)

"Esme Zabini, present" (one son at school, Blaise)

"Nasir Shafiq, present" (one daughter at school, Amira)

"Preston Parkinson, present" (one daughter at school, Pansy)

"Hester Abbott, present" (two daughters at school, Harmony and Hannah)

"Deuteronomy Smith, present" (one grandson at school, Zacharias)

"Ezra Goldstein, present" (one nephew at school, Anthony)

"Molly Weasley, present" (four sons at school, Percival, Fred, George, and Ronald)

The rest of the room was surprised to see Molly, as she was a new face at the table. Augusta was quick to dismiss any curiosity "Madam Weasley has been chosen anonymously and randomly from among the parents of the current student body to replace the late Mister Avery, who passed away over the summer and has no other relatives who wished to take over his seat" she said brusquely.

"Thank you all for coming in on such short notice, now would you gentlemen please introduce yourselves and state your business?" She prompted authoritatively. The two of them came over to the table from where they had been standing next to the window and both bowed. One man did so perfunctorily and completely correctly, as if he did so many times every day without a second thought. The other did so haltingly and awkwardly, watching the other man's movements and copying them as if he'd never done it before in his life.

"Thank you for seeing us this morning. I am Asmund Rowle esquire, solicitor in the service of the house of Black, here as legal representation for my client Mister Fenrir Greyback. We are here to present an educational contract on behalf of his children, Harry Potter Greyback and Hermione Elena Greyback, for review and enactment by you fine members of the board" the blonde man announced clearly and politely. She nodded at him once, settling back and getting comfortable "So noted Mr Rowle, and what is the nature of the contract?" She inquired.

With a wave of his wand, he duplicated the document he held and a copy appeared in front of each board member. To her surprise the contents of the pages were blurred "What is the meaning of this, sir?" She demanded sharply, to which he demurred "Forgive me, madam chairperson, only a simple precaution to protect my clients' privacy. The details of this meeting will reveal highly sensitive and personal information about a member of the British wizarding peerage. Her rights are protected under wizengamot precedent. Once this board has unanimously sworn a standard non-disclosure oath, the documents in question will become fully legible and open for discussion. I'm afraid this is non-negotiable" he said coolly, knowing he had them in a corner.

She bit the inside of her own cheek sharply - as much as she appreciated the integrity that his firm adherence to good protocols showed, she didn't like being told what to do. Especially not in her own house. She narrowed her eyes at him "Very well, according to the school's charter and ministry bylaws you are correct that you have the right to demand such an oath on your clients behalf. Governors you have the option to either swear an oath of non-disclosure and stay for the rest of this board meeting, or refuse and leave immediately. Your ability to attend future board meetings that concern this same matter or address any information learned during it may be compromised if you choose not to make the oath, but otherwise the choice is yours" she instructed.

Standing, she took her own wand in hand and placed it over her chest "I, Augusta Fredericka Longbottom, do swear on my magic that I will not share any details about this contract, the meeting reviewing it, the decision rendered by this board, or the private information about the students contained within it, with anyone other than those who were present for this meeting and the students it concerns. So mote it be" she swore, feeling her magic invoke and swirl around the room, building as the other board members stood and did the same.

As the rush of magic grew and mingled and then slowly died down, she felt briefly connected to everyone else in the room as if by spidersilk thin strands. Rowle clapped his hands and bowed again "Thank you very much, your cooperation is sincerely appreciated. Now that you have all been sworn in, I can reveal that the nature of this educational contract is in regards to the rights of my clients as werewolves, and how they will be treated by this institution over the next seven years as they receive their schooling" he said with a smug grin, visibly relishing the scandalous and provocative subject.

Gasps and outraged cries filled the room, and Augusta frustratedly made a loud bang out of the end of her wand like a judge's gavel "Enough! Silence! Now Mr Rowle I am not in any way condoning this particular policy, but Hogwarts does not and has never produced offers of admission for non-human children. How is it that your clients are already students at this school if they are, by your own admission, werewolves?" She demanded curiously, trying to not reveal the slightest hint of her own personal investment into the matter. Why did her boy have to set his sights on one of the difficult ones?

Rowle's answer was surprisingly candid "I do not know madam chairperson, and frankly it is not my responsibility to answer that question. Clearly it has at least twice as I have seen the letters that invited them to matriculate here with my own eyes. As far as I understand it this institution is still using the same semi-sentient book of admissions that the founders created, but that's not relevant. However it happened, your school has offered a place to these children, and they are here in attendance. As registered and enrolled students, they are due the same rights, privileges, and protections as any other child here. One of those is the right to medical accommodation for permanent disease or disability, which I will argue reasonably includes the condition of lycanthropy. Therefore, consideration must be taken to support their needs to the best of this school's ability. I will allow their father, Mr Greyback, to answer further questions about the specifics of their needs. Sir?"

He prompted the other man to stand and face the board. Fenrir Greyback was much larger than Rowle, and though he was clean and tidy he was also a bit less well dressed. He looked profoundly uncomfortable, but she could tell he was making a genuine effort. He cleared his throat and it sounded a bit phlegmy "The rights that I am requesting be signed into contract and honored by this school are very simple, and I am willing to compromise with this institution to see them met. If my children are allowed to floo home in the afternoon or evening of the full moon every month, their transformations will never have to happen on or anywhere near school grounds or be a potential liability here for the staff and students that live and work here" he said gruffly. She glanced around at the other board members and they seemed confused by his request.

She took the initiative to give him a bit of a nudge in the right direction "Mr Greyback, am I correct in the understanding that by signing this contract you take full personal parental responsibility for your children's actions during the full moon, even while they continue to receive their educations here?" She said, pointedly raising her voice a hair's breadth, and sharply raising one brow.

The man in question blanched, and spun back around to consult his solicitor, who vehemently shook his head and looked at her assessingly, "Allow me to rephrase my client's statement," he said "there are several very strict stipulations about how this school must treat the Greyback children so as not to infringe upon their basic rights. As a parent Mr Greyback is more than happy to continue to take on the responsibility of supervising his children's full moon transformations, and his willingness to do so is not in any way meant to be construed as a bribe or reward for the school agreeing to do the bare minimum in seeing that his children's rights are not trampled."

She scowled, that wasn't what she had meant! She had been trying to help him come across as more sympathetic to the other board members. Bugger! "Of course," she said a bit tartly "Now can you please clarify exactly what rights Mr Greyback is concerned about his children being denied?"

Rowle placed a hand on his client's shoulder, who she noticed with a touch of anxiety seemed to be getting a bit agitated "Mr Greyback would like to ensure that his children are granted the right to a least-restrictive environment. What this means is relatively straightforward. Outside of the full moon Harry and Hermione are harmless children, and he insists that they be treated as such. They are to be given no potions or be cast upon in any way that would restrain or sedate them unless there is an active emergency situation. Their admission to the school is not to be called into question, threatened, or revoked because of parent outrage or press if word gets out about their condition, or by government intervention if their rights are legislatively revoked - in other words, their continued right to finish their education is to be stringently protected. Their safety and wellbeing must be given the same protection and priority as the other children. And most importantly, in any instance of discipline beyond a simple point loss or single detention they must be allowed the right to have their family solicitor, myself, present to represent them"

The room erupted again into objections and arguments "Our own human children don't even have those rights!" Preston Parkinson argued furiously, his face reddening. Minerva glanced at him sharply "That is categorically false and you well know it, you bloated old toad. The right to have and finish an education uninterrupted, to have their safety guarded by staff, and to have legal representation if so needed are all written into this school's original charter by the founders themselves" she informed him.

"And what about the very first demand, hmm, that these beasts cannot be potioned sedated or even restrained for any reason? What are your staff to do if they transform and start attacking the other children - politely ask them to please not do so? It's outrageous! I've never heard anything so absurd in my life!" He continued, only getting madder and redder.

At that the rest of the angry governors cooled a bit and looked at each other and then at him askance "Do you hear how foolish you sound, Parkinson? Werewolves may be dangerous when they're transformed but everyone knows they can only do so on the night of the full moon, or did you not pass third year defense?" Jesterly Fawley chided him, unamused by his show of ignorance.

"As Mr Rowle attested, as long as they're out of the castle and off of school grounds from sundown on the full moon to daybreak the morning after, they should be no more dangerous than regular school children. I don't see why they shouldn't have the right to not be administered potions or have spells cast upon them against their will. A professor that did the same to any of our children would be brought before this very board for review of their actions! It goes against disciplinary policy to do any of those things to a student except in emergency situations, which again the contract does grant exemption for if you had been listening, Parkinson" Nasir Shafiq reasoned calmly and thoughtfully. Heads nodded around the room.

The man in question sputtered and stuttered "Well what about not being removed? No other student in the school is granted impunity from expulsion!" He countered weakly, and several other governors scoffed.

"You daft twit, he didn't say a single word about impunity from expulsion. He said parent outrage or sensationalized media response. Again, this school has never removed any student due to public outcry alone if they did nothing to warrant removal. This is more than reasonable, as they are likely to face widespread censure if word gets out about their condition. As long as they are in good academic and disciplinary standing, it is perfectly acceptable to expect not to be removed from school for no reason! We would grant any other student the same basic courtesy of not tossing them out unprovoked" bellowed Deuteronomy Smith, the oldest of them all and more than halfway deaf, cowing Parkinson quite effectively. The man actually looked shamefaced, and was doing a moderately good impression of a turtle withdrawing into its shell as he slouched lower and lower in his chair.

"Hmm, well said Smith!" Hester Abbot chimed in "As far as I can tell from what I've seen skimming through it, there's nothing in this contract that couldn't be argued applies to any other child in attendance at the school. I'm of the opinion that they're really not asking for special treatment at all, and I don't see why we can't have this approved today and be done with it" she suggested diplomatically. Several other governors nodded.

"Parkinson may have been wrong, but are we really all buying into the fantasy that these two children are completely harmless? None of us have ever even met them, how do we know they're not aggressive or violent? Even an actual human child can do terrible damage if they are motivated enough, add in claws and animal instincts and I don't want my Blaise anywhere near them. I'd say ask their father how different they are from regular children but I'd be shocked if he himself knew. For all we know they don't even need to be transformed to have the sheer strength to break another child's neck" Esme Zabini purred venomously, shocking the rest of them with her poisonous rhetoric. Augusta noticed that it looked like Hyperion Greengrass, who had been on the fence before, might have been swayed by her words. Parkinson looked like he'd been triumphantly vindicated.

Molly Weasley looked even more furious than Greyback at the insinuation, and rose swiftly to her feet "Pardon me, madam, but I do in fact know these children! They are cousins of my own children, and I have watched them play together without ever having any problems whatsoever. They are sweet and well behaved, and I've never seen either of them hurt a fly. I'll grant you that they may be stronger and faster than the average child their age, but they are acutely aware of it, and adjust accordingly. I've actually seen them voluntarily go out of their way to give themselves handicaps while playing with my children to make games and contests more fair. None of my brood would do that, and I'd argue none of yours would either" she defended them passionately, clearly she loved these two dearly.

"And if you don't believe me," she added tartly "why don't you just ask Lord Malfoy his opinion on the matter?" she said with a smirk, drawing looks of startled confusion from the rest of the governors, including Augusta herself. She glanced over at him to see a pained grimace flash over his face for a fraction of a second before it smoothed back out into his typical bland countenance. What on earth could he have to contribute to this discussion?

Malfoy stood "Madam Weasley is correct. The Greyback twins happen to be cousins with my son as well, and I have observed the same good manners and sound judgment she testifies to when they are at play. They are keenly aware that their human cousins are weaker and… more fragile than them, and they neither take advantage nor intentionally do harm. In fact, I have seen them playing extremely roughly with each other only to immediately adjust accordingly the instant human children joined them. I am willing to attest here before this board that I have never seen or heard tell of them scratching biting or in any way injuring another child, even untransformed" he eloquently argued, and Augusta felt thunderstruck.

She remembered a moment later that his wife was a Black, and therefore the girl must be her head of house. It took everything she had to hold in the bark of laughter when she realized. That certainly explained his begrudging support. Oh that's just delicious she thought to herself, imagining him obediently playing the hapless jester jingling miserably for his supper in eleven year old Hermione's little court. The mental picture so entertained her that she was sure it would be strong enough to power a patronus.

Zabini seemed satisfied enough by Malfoy vouching for the children, and gave a carelessly casual shrug as if she had never been truly bothered in the first place. Greengrass was pulled off the fence entirely and fully onto the other side. Even Parkinson looked like he was finally at the very least considering the matter neutrally. Everyone else was sold. Augusta cleared her throat again.

"Unless there is any other evidence or testimony to present I believe we are finished deliberating, yes? …Then in the matter of the educational contract presented by Mr Asmund Rowle on behalf of the students Harry Potter Greyback and Hermione Elena Greyback, how does this board vote?" She asked, and each governor raised their wand, and all eleven of them including herself shot green ribbons out of the ends of them that formed check marks in the air. She nodded, pleased as punch "Very well, then by unanimous vote the contract is approved and will be signed and enacted by the school this very day" she said.

She turned to Rowle and requested the master copy, and when he provided it she pressed her wand to the top line of the signature box on the bottom of the parchment. Her family crest appeared in shining gold, and she signed her name next to it. She passed it around the table and the rest of the governors did the same. Passing it back to Rowle she saw him sign as a witness, and instruct his client on signing as well. To her absolute shock, a stout figure she hadn't noticed waddled out of the shadows and stepped forward.

It was a goblin - on school grounds!

"Excuse me," she barked without a moment's hesitation "Who is this, and have they been here in the room for this entire meeting?" She demanded, drawing everyone else's attention to the figure. Rowle held up his hands to calm her "Pardon me madam chairperson, this is the house of Black's accounts manager Gornuk. He is here in his capacity as a senior Gringotts employee to notarize this contract, and was already aware of the information you all swore to protect" he said calmly.

The creature bared his wickedly sharp teeth in an expression that could not possibly be confused for a smile, and it sent a shudder down Augusta's spine. It turned keen knowing eyes on her, and she felt distinctly uncomfortable. With a shallow bow that was really little more than an exaggerated nod it addressed the room "I am Gornuk son of Nograk, and I am here on my Lady patroness' behalf to notarize this contract between the Hogwarts School board of governors and her father Fenrir Greyback" it rasped, and murmurs followed.

"I had heard the house of Black had a new head after Acturus finally died last year. Tell me goblin, just who exactly is your patron?" Hyperion Greengrass inquired with all the grace and wit of a quaffle. The goblin only turned up its long pointed nose, and with all the dignity the question deserved replied "The Lady Black"

Rolling his eyes the wizard huffed "Well yes, obviously. Don't take that tone with me you beastly little thing. Who is the new Lady Black? You and the solicitor both claim that you are here in her service and on her behalf, why has she not shown herself at this meeting if it is a matter of such importance?" He demanded rudely, his temper rising. Stupid man, she thought to herself idly, you never insult the ones that guard your wealth.

Rather than have to debase itself by responding to such a remark, Minerva crossed her arms and addressed the man herself. She glanced at the clock on the wall "Seeing as it's 10:37 Wednesday morning, Miss Greyback should be outside in greenhouse three with the rest of the first years for her herbology lesson. As we are reviewing a contract that states her education shall not be needlessly interrupted, I think it would be rather ironic to summon her here during her class time, wouldn't you think, Hyperion?" She asked matter-of-factly, leaving the man gaping like a fish. Gods but Augusta loved that woman.

Ancient old Deuteronomy Smith shook his head as if clearing his ears to hear better "Now Minnie, do you mean to tell us that the Lady Black is actually the child this contract is regarding? Have I heard you correctly, m'dear?" He asked, once again rather too loudly but at least not shouting this time. Augusta rolled her eyes and spoke loudly and enunciated clearly in his direction "YES, Smith! It would appear that Miss Hermione Greyback is both the student and the Lady Black - one and the same" she clarified. She nodded a bit desperately at the goblin to continue with whatever it had planned.

Pulling a very small knife from its waistcoat, it stabbed the tip of its own finger. As a bead of dark purplish blood rose to the cut it had made, it dragged it across the signatures they'd all made on the parchment. With a telltale tingle of magic in the air, the blood that had smeared over the names lifted up off of the parchment and arranged itself into the shape of the bank's official seal. As soon as it was the correct shape it slammed back down and seeped into the page, staining a mark of the seal and drying instantly with a shimmer of magic.

Returning his small knife to his waistcoat, he nodded at her more respectfully than he had a moment ago "I, Gornuk son of Nograk, senior accounts manager for the house of Black, do hereby notarize that I did witness this contract having been fairly negotiated and then signed in good faith by willing parties, on the fourth day of Haligmōnadth in the year of 1991" he intoned blandly. She felt the creature invoke its magic as the seal activated on the parchment and glowed golden before dulling back to red. There was the odd sensation of a slightly metallic reverberation in the air, as if a tuning fork had been ever so delicately struck and allowed to ring, and it was gone nearly as soon as it began.

Ignoring the stunned silence of the governors of the board entirely, the goblin bowed to the professor and addressed Rowle, instructing him on how to have official copies made at the bank and which upcoming deadlines he would need to adhere to in order to ensure proper filing. It struck Augusta that though she'd known it was possible to have important documents authenticated and notarized by the bank, she hadn't ever actually seen or heard of it happening before. She recalled having overheard someone once say that it was a premium service the goblins offered only to their most preferred clientele.

…Huh…

Out of the corner of her eye she thought saw the goblin actually reach up and… did he just shake Greyback's hand? That couldn't be right. She was no commoner or peasant hedge-witch, she came from a family with a seat on the wizengamot. But the goblins didn't treat any humans like that - not even the Malfoys and Blacks of their world. Then again, by his own admission Mr Greyback was very clearly not a human.

…Hmmm…

She jolted back to herself and cleared her throat "Unless there is any other pertinent school business to discuss?" She asked the room, and when no one said a word she continued "then I do hereby adjourn this meeting of the Hogwarts School board of governors. Professor McGonagall, by end of week I'd like the rest of the professors to be brought into confidence and given access to our copy of the contract to read through. If they ever need to discuss it amongst themselves it's to be referred to as the children's medical accommodations. I don't want a single member of faculty in this school not knowing their responsibility to these children" she said with a note of finality, leaning back in her chair.

Jesterly Fawley summoned the parchment and dicta-quill that had been recording the conversation and brought them over to Rowle and the goblin "We don't exactly have a protocol for what to do with the minutes of a meeting that contain confidential information. These would normally be filed in the deputy headmistress' office for posterity and official record. Are there any spells that should be cast upon them to seal them somehow?" He asked the two of them smartly, and she was glad he'd been appointed secretary as he often did things competently.

Rowle nodded at him approvingly "Yes, there are an entire subset of privacy charms we regularly cast upon our documents in the legal profession, and I'd be quite pleased to do that for you now. The spell I will use allows only those who have sworn to keep the information secret to read it" he said, taking out his wand and casting on the parchment. It shimmered and straightened out, then rolled itself back up neatly. He handed it back to Fawley "I'll be taking this master copy of the contract to the bank with Gornuk here to have two official copies made, at which time I'll return and give it to you one to keep for your records, and have the other filed with the ministry. Asmund and Associates will hold onto the master if you ever have need of it" he told Fawley succinctly.

Turning back to Augusta he bowed rather more gallantly than was typical, with one hand over his chest and one behind his back "Madam chairperson, governors, professor, thank you for your precious time and your bold open mindedness. You've done something truly groundbreaking today by granting these two werewolf children the same legal protections as their peers. I do sincerely believe that history will look back on it kindly" he said quite earnestly. She was a bit taken aback, but realized that he had a point. As far as she knew this could be the first time in the school and possibly even the country that a non-human person's educational rights had been in any way codified.

Suddenly she had an inkling of an idea why the goblin was so chummy with the two gentlemen. Ensuring the legal rights of two children from noble houses to attend school may not seem like a particularly hot button issue, but it was a very easy and very slippery first step to one day seeing those two children on the wizengamot where they could speak for those who had helped them along the way. Such as their goblin friend. And their werewolf father. And who knows who else.

Augusta suddenly got the distinct impression that they'd all just been taken for a ride. She kept her face calm but inside she was cackling like a swamp hag. On her way out of the school she stopped Greyback and told him how pleased she was for their children to be friends, and his blank glazed look of confusion told him he didn't know a thing yet. Interesting… If he didn't know then she wasn't going to be the one to tell him - he'd find out eventually. She rather enjoyed being unhelpful like that at times, it was one of her greatest pleasures in life.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

If Augusta had been surprised to receive word from her grandson that he had met his future wife at the ripe age of eleven years old, she was positively stunned speechless to receive word from his head of house that he and his little friend had made heroes of themselves and potentially saved their classmates lives in their very first potions class.

Dated the 7th of September, 1991
From the desk of professor Minerva McGonagall
The office of the deputy headmistress
Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

Augusta,

Although I cannot make regular reports home for all of my lions, I will make an exception as I know you have feared Neville might struggle at school. I tell you now that although he is a bit of a nervous lad, I've seen no sign that he's had any real difficulties so far. You should be proud to know that your Neville has had a fine first week at school, and is comporting himself well as one of my lions. He's attended his classes on time, he's made good friends, and seems to be getting along with the rest of his year mates.

I've been approached by both Severus and Pomona with compliments to his performance in their classes. You undersold the lad's green thumb, apparently that keen intuition about plants has given him a leg up in potions as well. Severus Snape has never before openly praised a Gryffindor student in my earshot in all the years he has been a professor at this school. Imagine my surprise when he told me all about your boy teaching him a new and effective trick for identifying expired ingredients! I've known that dour young man for over twenty years and I've never heard him sound quite so impressed. He earned more points in one two-hour potions class than the man usually awards all of Gryffindor house in an entire year.

Needless to say I think we can expect good things going forward. I had feared he might have inherited Frank's terrible knack for ruining any and all potions he came into contact with - luckily it must have skipped a generation.

Minerva

As pleased as she was to hear that he'd done so well in potions, she couldn't help but wonder a touch guiltily just how the boy had managed it. In all of the lessons she'd given him at home he'd had the most trouble in the lab. Pre-school aged children didn't need to know how to brew actual potions, but in her day it had been bad form to send your child to school as a first year knowing nothing of the basics. The potions professor simply didn't have time to teach dozens of eleven year olds the difference between boiling and simmering, dicing and chopping, squeezing and crushing, and so on and so forth. It was expected they'd have learned those skills from their parents at home, which was why so many muggleborns typically struggled in their first few years.

Try as she might, she hadn't been able to get Neville prepared with much in the way of practical potions knowledge or ability. Like her Frank before him he'd cut himself on knives, burned himself on his cauldron's fire, and even nearly dissolved one of his toes off with armadillo bile. She still wasn't sure how that last one had happened, but they'd mutually agreed not to ever discuss it again. Suffice it to say he was a walking disaster and she'd kept him clear of both her lab and kitchen since realizing his natural… proclivity for disaster. Anticlivity?

Maybe all this time he'd just been a late bloomer waiting for the right moment to blossom. Or perhaps she'd been too stern and he'd needed space away from her to perform well. He had always been such an anxious boy, and she had never been as warm as she'd wanted to be. She always taken delight in intimidating social rivals, maybe she'd let herself become too cold and closed off. She knew she had made mistakes raising him but they were hard to admit and harder still to change. As easy as it was to assume that his problems started and stopped with him, it was becoming impossible to ignore the effect she had on the way he had turned out. Especially when she got reminders like this, that he was out of her house and away from her influence for less than a week and was suddenly thriving.

She stewed on those thoughts for a few days until another letter from Minerva arrived with a decidedly different tone. The owl that had delivered it was unusually hostile, and she'd never seen a letter that wasn't a howler steam before. She cast a diagnostic charm before gingerly opening it.

Dated the 12th of September, 1991
From the desk of professor Minerva McGonagall
The office of the deputy headmistress
Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

Augusta, you are not a foolish woman. I cannot for the life of me imagine what could possibly have made you decide to send your grandson to my school with his father's wand instead of one that chose him. I've heard now from multiple sources that Neville was unable to channel even a simple lumos charm through it. Filius informed me today that he is the only first year who hasn't managed to cast it yet - even the two Slytherins who might as well be part troll have gotten their wands to light! Miss Greyback came to me confused as she was quite certain he had perfect intonation and wand movements but still couldn't get it to work for some reason - color me surprised. A private conversation with Neville himself has revealed to me that the boy sincerely believes himself to be a squib that has miraculously managed to fool the book and hat somehow.

I know it's Frank's wand, Augusta. I taught that boy for seven years in this very castle, don't think for an instant that I don't recognize it well. I don't understand why you've done this, and although I'm sure you must have had some reason, I'm afraid I cannot allow it to continue. It is clearly a very poor match, one he cannot be successful with in the long term, and I insist that you collect him before the coming weekend is over and take him to get one that will actually work.

Think of how much more painful it might be if he needed his wand to save his life and it refused to work for him. Keep Frank's wand as an heirloom for him if you must, but for all the gods sakes don't make the boy use it. I know how much you've lost my dear friend, don't set yourself up to lose him too. He might as well be defenseless with such a poor tool in his arsenal.

Minerva

Augusta's chest felt hollow and she yearned to throw the parchment into the fire and curse her friend for over reaching. Meddlesome cow, how dare she! But… she was right wasn't she, that could be the only explanation for her boy being unable to even light his wand. It wasn't his wand after all, it was his father's and it must still be loyal to him even in his deteriorated state. She'd taken her Frank to get it after he graduated from Hogwarts so that he'd have a proper auror's wand when he started as a cadet at the academy. Ollivander had said her son's sweet nature wasn't exactly suited to such violent work, but he'd found the perfect match for him to do what he needed to apprehend death eaters and survive duels and skirmishes alike.

What had she been thinking sending Neville off to school to learn his first year charms and transfigurations with such a deadly implement? She might as well have been trying to teach him table manners with a sword instead of a knife. It was a sheer dumb luck that it didn't warm to his touch, he might have accidentally killed someone with it if it had actually taken a liking to him.

She called for Thistle and asked her to go to the school and let Minerva know she'd come that very afternoon and take Neville to get a new wand. She couldn't let another day pass without correcting this mistake.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Marching through the gates and up to the castle she felt a keen sense of humiliation that she was coming here not for official board business or to see her boy receive an award for great achievements, but to fix such a thoughtlessly foolish thing she'd done. She'd always taken umbrage with the way silly little airheads often saw fit to run around not considering the consequences of their actions - what a prize idiot she felt like now being one of them.

Minerva was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps leading up to the front entrance, her boy fidgeting anxiously next to her. He looked so small still with those enormous doors behind him, and Minerva looming sternly. She steeled herself for whatever the woman might say, she'd maintain her dignity for as long as possible but she had very much earned the lecture that was sure to come.

"Glad to see I was able to knock some sense into you, you daft old cow. Now go get him a proper wand. Mr Longbottom, have Thistle let me know when you're on your way back and I will allow you to floo in through my office. Have a nice afternoon, you two" she said with a sharp nod, and promptly took off back into the castle. Augusta's and Neville's eyes both followed her, longing for the buffer of a third party so they wouldn't have to be alone together with the awkwardness that always lived between them.

Looking down at her grandson, she swallowed audibly, dreading letting him realize just how much of her stern no-nonsense persona was to keep up appearances. She'd heard the way people talked about her, they called her tough as a boiled owl and she was happy to let them think it was the truth. Having lost her parents, her life partner, her brother, her beloved son and daughter-in-law, cousins and friends and associates and even most of the enemies that she'd been cordial with, she was in reality a woman who lived on the very edge of total collapse at nearly all times.

Bereft was a sensation that she had crawled inside of and made a home for herself out of.

There were four reasons she was still alive and breathing and three of them were house elves and one of them stood before her, eyes full of questions and a bitterness she had never seen in them before. She couldn't say nothing, she owed him an explanation. Hand on his shoulder, she led him back down the lawn and through the gates. It was a bit chilly, and her old bones didn't have it in them to make the hike down to the village, so she held onto his upper arm tightly and apparated them both to just outside the three broomsticks. He followed her silently like a little lamb into the tavern where they sat at a table and had a pair of butterbeers.

He drank timidly, still not saying a peep, but his eyes were aflame with something she didn't recognize in them. A bit of early onset teenage resentment? She couldn't exactly blame him if it was. Clearing her throat she cast a privacy charm around them and though it was frightening for once she let herself be soft and weak and vulnerable, even if only for this single conversation. He deserved it from her not to be barked at, not to be handled at arm's length and with the traditional British stiff upper lip she'd been raised to emulate.

"You let me think I was a fraud," he accused mildly before she could even open her mouth to say a word "I was just biding my time waiting for the day they'd tell me they found out I didn't have any magic. Expecting to eventually be expelled and obliviated."

"Don't be ridiculous, squibs aren't obliviated unless their parents send them into the muggle world" she retorted, and then winced. That was not the correct point to address in his statement. Gods what was wrong with her?

"That is to say - you are not and have never been a squib, Neville. Your parents saw your magic when you were a baby, and the healers assured me your core wasn't damaged from the trauma of their attack. I saw it with my own eyes when my idiot brother dropped you from that window and you protected yourself from the fall. It nearly scared the life right out of me, but it was absolutely undeniable," she said conversationally, trying to imagine that he was Minerva in front of her and not the grandchild she didn't know how to talk to. His eyes were wide and his little mouth hung open, and she realized these were things that she should have told him before now.

"Losing your parents has made life difficult for you, my dear boy, and that's my fault and I'm sorry for it. Because you have relied on me to raise you, and losing my son and daughter has made my life a shadow of what it was. Of who I was. It's the single hardest thing I've ever had to deal with. I'd have laid down on the floor and held Bellatrix's wand to my own head and taken those curses for them if I could have, if it would have spared them what they had to endure."

"What you have to understand is that your parents were wonderful and they were popular and they were war heroes. Wizarding Britain mourned the two of them almost the same way they did your friend Harry's parents. And because people are gossiping fishwives, mention of them follows me everywhere I go. You'd think people would be better behaved than to ask a grieving mother the juicy details about the night her son and daughter-in-law were tortured to insanity by a terrorist, but that's expecting too much from polite society apparently. So to protect my poor old heart, that's admittedly more tender than I like to let on, I wear a very stern mask in public Neville - because people are bold and cruel, but they're also cowards. No one asks me about your mother and father when I look at them like I might eviscerate them wandlessly by sheer willpower alone."

"I've been wearing that mask of strength and stoicism and sternness for so long that's it's become a part of who I am. I don't know how to take it off and relax, because I fear without it I'll fall into my grief and never come back out of it. I never should have put it on in the first place, I should have let the world see exactly how beside myself I was. I should have let myself mourn like a mother ought to. I should have let you know me better. I'm sorry Neville, I'm so sorry for being this way, you deserved to grow up with so much better than the pathetic remains of my stilted and crippled emotions to nurture you." Her voice broke, and she had to wipe tears from her cheeks.

"It's the reason why we didn't get you a wand when we were shopping. Garrick Ollivander is the shrewdest, most intuitive old goat I've ever met in my entire life. He loves to say things that cut to the core of you to make himself appear insightful and clever. He gets such a terribly smug look in his eye as if he knows everything about you and will bring it all up just to get you off your rhythm. I can't stand the sight of him, and I've avoided him for years, and I even put off getting you your own wand because of it. I don't know why in Merlin's name I did such a cowardly thing, can you ever forgive me?" She begged him, feeling as if she'd cut herself open and revealed her very viscera. She couldn't believe she'd been so candid, but it had been a long time coming. She didn't want these walls up between the two of them anymore.

When she finally found the courage to look up into his eyes they were wet and crinkled at the corners, "You can be just as soft and as soppy as you like gran, Godric's hat but you've certainly earned it. And if that Mr Ollivander even tries to act like a busybody, well then I'll simply tell him to bugger right off for you, alright?" He teased sweetly, and she nearly snorted her butter beer out through her nose.

"That would be much appreciated my dear boy" she said a bit weakly, a wry grin curling her lips at the corners.

For the rest of the day she tried them on for size, being soft and warm and vulnerable and all of the things she hadn't let herself be for too long for her to recall, and found them more comfortable than she ever remembered them being. Walking around in the world without her mask and her guard up was frightening, but when she saw the wonder on her boy's face as his wand glowed and shot sparks and chose him, when his eyes were as bright as starlight all the rest of the evening with how thrilled and proud he was, when he hugged her goodbye and his embrace was tight and warm and loving, it felt like it was more than worth it.