CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Sirius Black II had one of the most eventful Tuesday mornings he had in a while. He had stressed out sixth and seventh years asking for extra help and updates on when Professor Babbling would be returning to teaching and for extra translation work. One of the visitors that the former Lord Black received was one that he had only half expected.

During one of his free periods, he heard his portrait swing open after the whistle password had been given. Sirius raised his head from the letter sent by his daughter-in-law asking for any Hogwarts gossip and raised a curious eyebrow as he watched his Great-Niece, Walburga, waltz in the room, maintaining perfect posture as always and her countenance betraying nothing but her bearing betrayed her enough for him to know to take her seriously. She was on a mission; Sirius knew that for certain.

"Great-Uncle Sirius, forgive me for troubling you but may I have a moment of your time?" Walburga asked formally, as she always did.

The interim Ancient Runes professor smiled fondly. "Of course, my dear! How may I be of assistance?"

Walburga glided into the room and elegantly took a seat on the sofa opposite him, still keeping a neutral countenance. "I have a favour to ask, sir. It is rather important. Do you happen to know if Lycoris still has some tickets left for her performance?"

"Why do you wish to know?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I did not know you intended on attending. You never showed any interest in any of her concerts before."

Walburga let her mask slip only a fraction of a moment but composed herself just as quickly. "I do not ask the tickets for myself, sir," she confessed. "But I know of someone else who does, and she wishes to make a special occasion out of it."

"Indeed?" the former Lord Black had to bite into his cheek a bit to keep a straight face. He leaned forwards slightly, eyes dancing with mirth. "Has this got to do with one Harry Evans, by any chance?"

"I think you know the answer to that question yourself, sir," Walburga smiled momentarily, clearly annoyed that he had managed to poke through her motives so quickly.

A grin spread onto the man's face. "Indeed. Then may I make another educated guess? I take it then that these tickets are part of a rather special gift box?" the former Lord Black pressed further, enjoying himself immensely.

"Yes, sir," Walburga confirmed easily, not wishing to deny it now that her Great-Uncle had sussed it out.

Sirius chuckled. "Well then it seems I owe your Great-Aunt Hesper fifteen Galleons. I will never hear the end of it," he sighed dramatically as he got to his feet. He could feel Walburga's eyes follow him to his personal chest, decorated by his favourite family photographs. The former Lord Black fished up the envelope his wife had sent with her rather cryptic letter, which in hindsight was not so cryptic anymore.

Walburga will know what to do with these, Hesper had written.

Inside the envelope were four tickets to Lycoris' performance. When Sirius handed them to his late brother's granddaughter, he bit his lip and watched her unblinkingly, eager to soak in her reaction. Walburga peeked into the envelope, blinked and looked up disbelievingly. "How … Great-Aunt Hesper had one of her funny feelings again?" Walburga asked.

"You could say that," Sirius smirked. He composed himself quite quickly. "I hope you will inform Miss Harry that the fourth ticket at least must be used for a chaperone."

"I will," Walburga promised as she jumped to her feet and bowed her head. "Thank you, sir."

"Tell Miss Harry I wish her luck," the former Lord Black grinned.

Walburga grinned back before she made herself scarce.

Sirius momentarily contemplated writing a letter to Hesper that the tickets had indeed been taken by Walburga but knew that his wife would not be able to contain her excitement and would tell Melania, who would promptly tell every pureblood Lady Consort in her acquaintance and soon whole magical Britain would know what had happened.

That would be no fun at all!

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"Remind me again why I decided to pass as a History professor?" Hypnos grumbled as he put aside yet another marked essay, which unfortunately was the one that only marked the half way point in his marking.

"Because you wanted to prove a petty point?" Melinoë reminded him with a grin, smirking over her tea cup. "I don't see why you would put yourself through all that pain. Do you want your own students in your Realm, dear cousin?"

"At least I am not deliberately passing off as a student in order to wipe the floor with everyone around me," Hypnos shot back.

"Being immortal has some advantages," Melinoë smirked. "Having met the ghosts of some of the people we 'learn' about also helps, I suppose."

Hypnos snorted at that. "You're incorrigible!"

"Very true," the Goddess of Ghosts readily agreed.

Suddenly, there was a tapping at the window that pulled the God of Sleep out of his marking and made Melinoë look up sharply. A rather handsome owl – sent by Gringotts, judging by the medallion around its neck – was looking at them expectantly, looking a little annoyed that they were leaving him so long out in the cold.

Melinoë got up and went to the window and let the bird in. The owl hooted as if to say, "bloody finally!", and glided onto the dining table where Hypnos was working and stuck out its leg to him. Hypnos blinked in surprise.

"For me?" he stated in disbelief.

"Hoot!" the owl confirmed with a slight nod of the head.

"Are you sure?"

"Hoot!"

"Oh please, cousin!" Melinoë rolled her eyes. "Take the damn letter and let that owl get back to its business."

The God of Sleep, still confused, untied the letter from the owl, who flew out of the window again. The Goddess of Ghosts shut it again with a wave of her hand as she watched her cousin turn the letter over and broke the seal and unfolded the letter. Melinoë watched Hypnos read through it, and promptly turn bright red with embarrassment.

"Are you all right?" she asked with a frown.

"Mmmhmm," was all he was able to answer, his cheeks now positively burning.

"Are you sure?" Melinoë could not help smirking.

Hypnos huffed. "Oh, read it for yourself!" he held out the letter, sounding a little petulant as well as nervous.

Melinoë took it, biting her lip and started to read.

Dear Mr. Henry Burke,

I do hope you are well. Forgive any inconveniences the owl and this letter may have caused you but I have an odd and perhaps too forward question to ask of you. As you are aware, the Malfoy Yule Ball is fast approaching and I have been foolish enough to agree to attend for the first time in an eternity. As a result, I am expected to find an escort for the Ball, considering who my family is, and frankly I detest social occasions at the best of times so I have been trying to find someone who is willing to escort me and help me escape from the prospect of tedious company. Plus I would like to be able to say I am at least a little acquainted with the person I am taking.

I do not wish to be presumptuous or put you in an awkward position, but I was wondering if you would agree to be my escort for the evening?

I await your reply with slightly bated breath.

Rollo Rowle.

"Romantic letters is not this guy's forte," Melinoë joked.

Hypnos scowled. "So what? At least I know where I stand with him. You girls, mortal or otherwise, are not as clear about your intentions!"

Melinoë snorted. "Touché, cousin," she grinned. "So, are you going to accept or refuse?"

Hypnos flushed. "I have nothing against Mr. Rowle and it would mean all three of us will be there to protect Harry. I think for that reason alone I will say yes."

"Will you be able to put up with him for an entire evening?" his cousin teased further. "What if he spends most of his time brooding in a corner?"

"I am sure it will be fine," Hypnos responded dismissively as he took some parchment and quill.

"Yeah, Tosti can always take him off your hands," Melinoë chuckled. "Two dark handsome strangers in a corner, hating the fact they are forced to be social-"

"I think Harry will make sure that Tosti won't be a wallflower," Hypnos snorted as he quilled his response to the Head of Cursebreaking at Gringotts.

"Oh good grief, can you imagine if she makes him dance?" the Goddess of Ghosts snorted with laughter. "The last time Thanatos danced it didn't really go very well!"

Hypnos barked out a laugh. "It's a good thing Lanais was not there to see it!"

The two deities were still laughing at the God of Death's expense when the raven Hypnos had summoned set off to Gringotts with his reply. In his office, Rollo was once again swarmed with letters and reports of business and dealings for potential clients when the raven belonging to the Burkes tapped on his window.

Rollo admittedly did not expect such a swift reply and was quietly nervous about what Henry Burke had answered, which was why he was rather slow in opening the window and untying the letter from the raven's leg. The corvid seemed to sense his anxiety and treated him with astounding patience.

Rollo took a deep breath and broke the odd seal on the letter and unfolded it.

Dear Mr. Rowle,

I was admittedly surprised by your letter and your offer, but I find myself not averse to going to a ball with someone in my family's acquaintance. As such find myself unable to refuse your offer, even though I do not enjoy the prospect of having to pretend to smile at or care about tedious people.

I assume there is a protocol one must follow at this ball? Would you meet with me at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch to discuss them?

Yours sincerely,

Henry Burke.

For a moment, Rollo genuinely smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, his goblin guards noticed this and they exchanged an eye roll while shaking their heads despondently. Humans really were a strange kind of creature. Goblin courting was by far the best kind; present your intended with the best chicken, the finest goblin forgery one could make and gold. There was no room for misinterpretation!

################################

During the final week of the fifth year mock exams, the scales of stress seemed to be leaning more and more towards the end of the seventh years as each day went by and the only thing the fifth years were doing was fretting about what answers they missed, had to guess at or what points they might have failed to mention. But there were two seventh year Gryffindor and Slytherin girls who seemed to spurred on by their stress rather than flattened by it.

As soon as Harry had made her intentions clear to Altair and Tom about sending them Courting Boxes, she immediately started planning the composition of the Boxes, and the gifts that would be included in them. She had spent a great amount of time fretting that people were likely to sneer at her for not spending as much money as other suitors would have done but Artemis reassured her that creative gifts were a much more personal option, as Druella pointed out, and thus better.

From late Monday to Friday, Artemis, Harry, Orion and Loreley pulled off what Orion had dubbed Operation Eros. What they would do was, every single time they found themselves studying in a group and decided to take a break from the books and piles of homework and coursework, Loreley or Orion would take it in turns to make an excuse for the four of them to escape from the group. By Wednesday, they had gone through the Making-Sure-Athenaïs-Is-OK excuse, the Help-Artemis-Ask-Professor-Black-A-Question excuse, the Harry-Professor-Merrythought-Needs-To-Talk-To-Excuse and they found they were running very quickly out of believable excuses. However, Heir Black and the Malfoy Seeress had two diabolical allies from Gryffindor House. The Confetti Grenade prank that the Weasley twins helped to engineer when Orion and Loreley felt they were running out of proper excuses helped them a total of four times.

Once the quartet had managed to make their escape, they immediately headed to the Room of Requirement – if they knew it wasn't taken – or to the Armoury, where Harry would continue painting the miniature for Artemis' locket for Heron and the group in turn would help Harry with her Courting Boxes. The times that they were in the Room, it eagerly provided Harry with boxes of ornate cedar wood and some carving designs – Artemis, Orion and Loreley eagerly helped to carve golden jackals, amphiteres, stags, Hungarian Horntails, Grims and werewolves into the good. Some of the images were adorable and other just down right funny, like the jackal and Grim chasing the amphitere, stag, werewolf and Horntail with feathers to tickle them. Harry spent ages on the lid's design as well as preparing the riddle spell Minerva suggested.

Orion happily helped with the Rune work for it. Harry then set to work on the quasi-visual novel for the inside of the boxes.

Walburga, Druella, Ophelia and Ygraine quickly became fast allies, as well as Minerva. As promised, Walburga got her hands on tickets for Lycoris Black's show – Harry had rolled her eyes when the Black heiress reminded her to get a chaperone. Druella, Ophelia, Ygraine and Minerva were look-outs, spies and distractors, often working in tandem with Athenaïs. It was sometimes like they were characters in a spy movie; the moment Altair, Tom or Heron made a move and the girls noticed it, they sent their Patronuses off to warn the quartet. Athenaïs would tail the three unsuspecting boys, sometimes even leaving her beloved amulet behind for extra camouflage. If they got too close to the Room or the Armoury, the Gargouille would jump out at them to distract them.

At one point on Thursday when it looked like Harry and Orion were not going to be able to sneak away because of how full the common room was with fifth years on left over adrenaline and increasingly nervous seventh years, Ophelia and Ygraine caused one of the biggest distractions they had done so far.

They had shoved their books off their laps, jumped onto the sofa behind them, and began screaming about seeing a rat in the common room, pointing in all directions as they wailed the common room down. Walburga, not realising there was not rat, also jumped fifteen feet into the air and onto the sofa, hyperventilating. Druella, who did realise Ophelia and Ygraine were faking, was trying desperately to not laugh.

As one can imagine, chaos had ensued. Girls were screaming, a few boys were screaming too – Stefan Greengrass and his friend Parkinson amongst them – climbing onto furniture to escape the imaginary rat while the people not afraid of rats were forced to crawl under furniture to try and get rid of the trespassing creature, including Altair, Tom and the Knights.

The best part was, they were making so much noise, Professor Slughorn had come to investigate and when apprised of the situation, joined in the hunt for the errant rodent. By the time that everyone realised that the "rat" was gone, Artemis, Harry, Orion and Loreley had safely sequestered themselves in a disused classroom on the fourth floor with Orion and Loreley acting as look-outs for students, teachers, Patronuses and poltergeists alike while Harry and Artemis finished the silver ring boxes topped with engraved Cobra Lilies, put the courting rings into one each.

"But where is your ring?" Artemis asked with a frown as she put the finishing touches on her Cobra Lily's petals.

This had made the Lady Regnant pause.

"I don't have one," she admitted sheepishly as she slid the courting ring for Altair into the velvet cushion she had put into the ring box.

"But you have to have one!" Orion pointed out, calling over his shoulder.

Harry wilted. "Issue is, I have no idea where Professor Chattox got these rings from."

Loreley turned to momentarily grin at her. "Then why not use a modified version of the Duplication Charm? Use the basis of the boys' ring to make a more female version?"

Artemis lit up. "Lorri, you are a genius! Why did I not think of that? Hera, I will show you the spell and how to do the modification."

The Potter heiress taught her excited doppelgänger the spell and they spent a good two minutes practising on conjured rings before putting the spell onto the boys' rings.

"OK, rings! Check. Tickets to Altair's favourite composer. Check!" Artemis grinned. "What next?"

"Personalised songs," Harry answered with a fond smile. It faded only slightly. "But I don't want it to be sheet music. I want it to play to them whenever they want to listen to it."

"Then create a music box," Orion grinned, looking over his shoulder momentarily.

Harry deflated slightly. "But we're not in the Room-"

"You don't need the Room," Loreley sang mystically. "Forge with the fire of your soul and magic, Harry."

Artemis rolled her eyes, but Harry and Orion knew exactly what Loreley was referring to. The Potter heiress seemed to notice the shared look and frowned in confusion. She looked at Harry, cocking her head slightly. "Am I missing something?"

The Lady Regnant, in turn, gave her doppelgänger a serious look. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course, silly," Artemis scoffed. "Why do you even feel the need to ask?"

Harry smiled smally and took out a lantern from behind her belt that was hidden by her cloak. Artemis watched with wide eyes as Harry pulled out a glowing orb that could easily be construed as a soul and soon her hand was engulfed by something the Potter heiress thought she would never see: Soul Fire!

Artemis' eyes widened, but she soon found herself basking the glow of her doppelgänger's unorthodox flames.

"That's why," Harry replied simply with a short laugh as she dissipated the Soul Fire, put the soul back into the lantern and fixed it to the back of her belt again.

The Potter heiress gaped for a little while longer, blinking rapidly before she recovered her ability to speak.

"Merlin's sainted mother Hunith, that was awesome! Did that just happen? Merlin, you just keep taking us all by surprise, don't you?" Artemis squealed, Imperius eyes shining excitedly. "You Peverells are so kick arse!"

"Artemis, language," Loreley rolled her eyes.

Artemis ignored her best friend. "Can you do that without the spirit-wisp thingy?" she asked eagerly.

"Sort of," Harry admitted. Her training for magical forging had gone rather slow; Hypnos' instruction through the two-way journal hadn't helped much, which annoyed Harry greatly. "I have to do it like this."

Artemis watched as her Slytherin sister conjured two adorable dragons with a nonverbal, wandless Draconifors, used a spell to make the cute, tiny dragons, both of whom were asleep, slightly bigger. The strange Peverell then conjured butterflies that flew straight towards the sleeping dragons and once they landed on them, began turning the dragons crystalline within gulfs of Soul Fire. Much like the butterflies Harry conjured had done to the flowers that one lesson when Professor Dumbledore was in a grumpy, sulky mood.

"Whoa," Artemis breathed.

Harry looked at the dragon that was going into Altair's box, fingers drumming on Evren's violin as she pondered on what to do. The Traveller had been trying to plan the music but each time she had hit a break wall and ended up procrastinating, because none of the sounds were good enough in her eyes. Loreley seemed to sense this was the issue as she turned to face her friend.

"Stop thinking," she cajoled gently. "You of all people should know that music is not something that can be forced. Close your eyes and think about he makes you feel, and simply begin to play. Do the same for Tom."

Harry considered for a moment, smiled to herself and scoffed before nodding. Once again she was overthinking things. The Lady Regnant raised Evren's violin, her wand turning into a bow and Harry closed her eyes, focusing on every memory she had of Altair and her feelings for him in each moment. Almost subconsciously, the Lady Regnant began to play, her statue glowing a blue-silver colour as it began to record. Artemis, Orion and Loreley listened blissfully in silence – as did Professor Binns, who had been heading back to his office for some peace and quiet.

The Traveller repeated the process for Tom. Admittedly, Artemis and Orion noted how dark, heavy and eerie the music started and seemed to stay like for two minutes until it became lighter, jovial and a whole lot more warm and loving. Throughout, the group felt goosebumps on their arms.

Not long after Harry had finished Tom's song, the group had to get moving because Septimus and Octavius' magpie Patronuses came to inform them that their suitors were trying to find them again, secretly giving Harry some more time to plan the next gifts.

##################################

Thursday evening after dinner, the Slytherin seventh year boys, sans Orion, and a few good acquaintances from the year below decided to take a rare bath in the Prefect's bathroom. Altair had been nervous about accepting the invitation from Avery of all people, especially because Tom was going as well. This shouldn't have been a problem, but it was technically against protocol. According to official pre-courting rules, taking a bath together was highly unorthodox. It was already bad enough that Altair felt touch starved after Monday; he had no idea why, but the hug between him, Tom and Harry made him feel whole and he was desperate to get that feeling back.

It seemed that no one, perhaps with the exception of Arc and Tom, noticed Altair's nerves. If someone did notice, it was soon forgotten by the time they were in the warm waters and the conversation turned to the strange behaviour of their female friends. Altair had difficulty concentrating due to Tom choosing to sit directly to his right.

"Is it just me or have Harry and her girls been acting weirder than normal this week?" Avery asked with a frown.

Dolohov snorted. "Is that even possible?"

"Black and Harry have been disappearing quite a bit but let's face it, it's practically a character trait," Mulciber pointed out as he lathered his hair with shampoo. "I think Harry just wants to explore the castle while she can."

"Why?" one of the sixth year boys scoffed. "I heard from Flint and some others that the girl knows this castle like the back of her hand. It's actually kind of scary."

"Harry loves her secret passageways," Altair commented before he could stop himself, smiling rather fondly.

"Oh? And how would you know, Nott?" another of the sixth years smirked. "Something you want to confess to?"

The others snickered at this. The leader of the Knights wasn't happy about this, though.

"Tone, Montague," Tom stated warningly.

Altair flushed red. "She showed them to me and Orion on her Samhain pranking spree."

"Guys, this goes beyond even wanting to explore the castle or passageways," Avery tried to bring the conversation back when he saw Dolohov ready to sneer at Altair again. "Confetti randomly going off, rats that appear and disappear – I mean, when have you heard Ophelia Rowle, the girl who is amazing with all kinds of magical creatures, scream because of a rat?! It makes no logical sense!"

"I think the stress may be getting to them," Malfoy stated primly. "I would not overly concern yourself with the girls, Malum. They will calm down eventually."

"Uh-huh. Your sister is also involved in this, Abraxas," Avery raised an eyebrow. "Anything you would like to share?"

"Malum, you of all people know I am not my sister's keeper," Malfoy returned the sassy look. "What she does is her own business."

"Plus, it is not just Harry," Heron pointed out. "Artemis is a whole lot more quiet."

"Maybe that poem of yours scared her away?" Mulciber teased him.

That earned him a tidal wave of water in face from his friends as Heron deflated visibly.

As almost everyone rounded on Mulciber for being an idiot, Altair felt a hand slip into his right hand, entwining their fingers and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. He felt his breath hitch; the Nott heir didn't dare to look at Tom just in case he would do something unbelievably stupid.

Sometimes Altair hated protocol.

"So, it's your birthday soon, isn't it?" how Tom managed to sound so casual Altair didn't know.

"Yes," Altair answered as he cleared his throat.

"29 November?"

"You remember," Altair smiled to himself.

He felt Tom's thumb caress the back of his hand. "Of course. Is there anything you particularly want for your birthday?"

Altair shrugged, trying to ignore the flush in his cheeks. "Not really."

"I doubt that," Altair didn't need to look at the boy next to him to know he was grinning. "Come on. There has to be something you want."

Altair forced his Occlumency shields up to stop one of his many explicit dreams coming to the forefront of his mind. Fortunately it seemed Arc sensed danger because he stated brightly, "Tom, would you like to join us for Altair's birthday tea? It's going to be myself, both Blacks, Dru, Harry, Potter, McGonagall and Loreley. Harry promised she would ask you but I doubt she got round to it, so … what do you say?"

"I'd love to," was Tom's bright answer.

"Great!" Arc grinned.

It wasn't long afterwards that the boys began clamouring out of the bath, Avery and Mulciber still arguing about whether or not they should test the fifth years for the Seeker position. Altair made to move after them but he forgot his hand was still captured, and Tom had no intention to let him go just yet as he pulled Altair gently back to him. It seemed that Arc knew exactly what was going to happen because the Rosier heir made sure the rest of the lads were bundled into the changing rooms in record time.

"Tom, they could come back out," Altair told him, still avoiding looking at him.

"I know," Tom confirmed teasingly.

Altair shook his head. "We need to go."

"Not yet."

"Tom-"

"Altair, look at me," gone was the light, teasing tone. It was replaced with one that sounded heavy and slightly desperate. "Please?"

Altair could no longer resist, and his dark eyes met the burgundy eyes that were almost as black as his own likely were. Seconds later, both eyes were closed as Tom initiated a kiss that had been hungrier than the first or even the second one they shared. It was like Tom had been starved for oxygen; frankly, Altair was not much better as it took all of his self-control not to moan. They broke apart too quickly for both their likings but they both knew they couldn't risk it being longer.

"I had to do that," Tom whispered, resting his forehead momentarily against Altair's.

"I don't think I can keep hiding much longer," Altair whispered back. "After Monday-"

"I know," Tom agreed, laughing shortly. "Harry had better hurry up with those damn Boxes!"

Altair snorted. "Couldn't agree more."

Fortunately, when the two boys came to the changing room to get dressed, no one even noticed they had been tardy. Arcturus, however, shot them a subtle, knowing smirk.

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Harry worked through Thursday night and well past the break of dawn on Friday morning in the Room of Requirement to create the final presents for her suitors. She had settled on making a classic self-portrait miniature of herself in one of her Samhain dresses with Athenaïs by her feet and a blue rose in her hand with her Peverell amulet around her neck as one present. The second was a self-made spell that would activate the story centred around the painted stories she had done around the inside of the boxes. The Lady Regnant worked on a combination of stone cold determination, coffee provided by the Room and energy garnered from sporadic naps.

The Traveller had just finished the riddle charm on the boxes when she sensed the castle being released from the Realm of Hypnos and she smiled in satisfaction at her work. Yes, the extra stress had definitely been worth it! Hopefully the boys would agree.

Harry carefully packed the boxes into her extended school bag and began to make her way back to the Slytherin dungeons. Just as she was about to reach the entrance to her House, the Lady Regnant was surprised to be greeted by Artemis' eagle Patronus.

"Harry, are you awake? Have you finished your boxes? If yes, meet Lorri and me in the Owlery! If not, please still come!"

The Traveller frowned to herself, huffed slightly at the prospect of having to climb stairs but made her way to the West Tower, making sure that her Invisibility Cloak was still wrapped around her as she did so. It was a good thing too, because otherwise she would have had to explain to the caretaker why she was up so early without sounding like she was up to no good. The Mistress of Death only removed her Cloak before entering the Owlery, bracing herself.

Artemis and Loreley were both dressed too and greeted her with a grin. They weren't alone. Clytemnestra, Artemis' Merlin hawk, was back and she was wearing a proper Potter medallion around her neck, looking very pleased with herself. With her was Tosti's raven and another raven Harry did not recognise. They were both carrying a box each and Tosti's raven had a letter attached to its leg. Both birds looked very amused; the owls around them were looking on curiously.

"Morning, girls. When did they get here?" Harry frowned, petting the birds gently.

"Just after Clytemnestra," Loreley informed with a knowing grin.

Harry felt the Link in her head open.

You can't hide anything from me, Mistress, Harry heard Thanatos tease. I knew you would be finished in record speed, given how much time you spent on the Boxes.

You sound way too smug, Harry commented back.

I think I have the right to be a little smug. I saved your birds the ignominy of flying without a medallion.

Erm, what?

Frowning, she stepped forth to untie the boxes and the letter and saw that inside the nicely carved boxes were two medallions with a coat of arms, ravens and butterflies in the shield with an executioner's sword crossed with a staff of power. Harry didn't need lessons to know what it was. The original coat-of-arms of the Peverell Family. It was the voice of the Sighted Ravenclaw that knocked her back down to Earth.

"You remember the tradition, correct?" Loreley asked serenely.

Harry smirked. "Yes, Professor Malfoy. Official intentions of courting and/or accepted courting proposals by Heirs of a House and/or Heads of House have to be delivered by avians wearing the House Seal. However, this custom is not followed by all pureblood families."

Artemis grinned. "Good girl!"

"We borrowed that tradition from the goblins," Harry stated with a smile as she put her bag and Cloak down.

Artemis frowned. "I swear the goblins took that tradition from us," she fired back.

"Nope. Gringotts have been using medallions on their birds since 1480," Harry responded brightly. "The first time wizards started to put medallions around their own birds for personal business was 1522 by the Malfoys, Potters, Blacks. Three Heiresses from each family, who happened to be friends, worked on their courting gifts together and designed the medallions their Houses still use today."

"Huh," Artemis looked low-key impressed.

Harry proceeded to put the Peverell medallions around the necks of the two ravens, who stood to attention like soldiers about to receive a medal and preened once the medallions were around their necks, causing the witches around them to laugh.

"So, when are we going to do this?" Artemis frowned.

Harry smiled smally. "You're probably going to think I am mad, but I think they should deliver them at breakfast."

Artemis and Loreley both gaped.

"Are you sure about being that bold?" Artemis wanted to make sure. "Because if we do this, the whole of wizarding Britain and even possibly the King is going to know."

"And courting gifts require witnesses," Harry pointed out. "I think the whole school should suffice, right?" she added brightly.

"You, my friend, are quite scary," Artemis sighed. "What the hell? Let's do it!"

The Potter heiress turned to her familiar and to the two ravens.

"OK, we need to talk to you guys about timing," Artemis told the birds seriously. "Do all of you know when our breakfast starts? OK good, I don't need to explain that then – Clytemnestra, ravens; we would like you to arrive in the Great Hall by eight-twenty. That should be enough time for the boys in question to arrive. Ravens, do you know who Altair and Tom are?"

The Potter heiress was shocked when the two ravens actually saluted her with their left wings.

Harry frowned. "I think Clytemnestra should enter first, maybe fifteen minutes into breakfast."

Artemis looked surprised. "You do?"

"Yes," Harry stated firmly. She grinned impishly. "You need put Heron out of his misery."

Artemis snorted, giving her a nudge but didn't disagree. She smiled smally. "You know, I thought for a while Heron had a crush on you."

Harry almost choked on her own saliva at this point. It got worse when Loreley stated, "it was touch and go for a minute, I have to say."

"LORRI!" Harry was bright red in the face.

"Sorry, Harry, I do not lie," Loreley responded serenely, eyes shining.

Harry huffed until a thought struck her and made her groan and then laugh. Artemis smirked. "What is it, dear doppelgänger of mine?"

"It seems Heron has a type," was Harry's blunt answer that caused Artemis and Loreley to split their sides.

After she had recovered her ability to breathe, Loreley helped Harry to tie the Courting Boxes to the ravens' legs while Artemis made sure Clytemnestra gripped the string around the box that contained the locket rather than the blood red ribbon and the Merlin hawk took the scroll that contained Artemis' official reply to Heron's proposal in her beak. The birds quietly prepared themselves for their flight while the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin went back to their respective Houses to prepare their bags for the day ahead and pretend like they had not been up to something.

Walburga, Druella, Ophelia and Ygraine, however, knew the opposite was the case and they shared excited grins as their group headed to breakfast without the boys. They especially started dancing when Harry and Artemis, who was waiting for them outside the Slytherin dungeons, made the conscious decision to join War, Bletchley, Pucey, and some of their friends for breakfast instead of sitting with them at the Gryffindor table.

Courting Rule Number Two: when a proposal or acceptance is made, the interested party is not allowed to sit near their intended to ensure that no unnecessary pressure is put on the party being proposed to.

It had been Harry's girls, along with Tessa, Minerva and Loreley who had stopped Altair, Tom, Heron, Orion or any of the other boys – who had all noticed that the girls were sitting away of them – from joining the girls.

"What have we done now?" was Dolohov's demand when Loreley, Walburga and Druella blocked one path and Minerva and Tessa blocked the other.

"Sit down," came the curt order from Loreley. "Tom, Altair, you sit with Orion and Heron; Heron next to Septimus, please. The rest of you, normal places."

The rest of the girls were giving them very dark, threatening looks that told the confused boys that they would be in serious trouble if they didn't comply. Tom and Altair exchanged a small, suspecting look but of course complied to the order. Naturally, everyone in each House and the faculty had noticed this shift in dynamic and there was suddenly an aura of excitement and anticipation going through the Great Hall. This was clearly not normal. Especially since Harry and Artemis flat out refused to look in the Gryffindor table's direction.

Courting Rule Number Three: the interested party is not allowed to look at their intended until they are completely distracted by the Courting Box or the reply sent to them.

The Slytherins seemed to have figured out what was happening because as excited murmuring arose, War had nudged Harry slightly as she took a deep interest in her coffee. "Have you finally fucking done what I think you have done?" she whispered with a grin.

Harry didn't move her head but gave War a covert thumb's up under the table, which made War chuckle to herself.

"Merlin's blessed father Balinor!" Pucey's hands went to her mouth. She had known immediately what War's chuckle had meant. Fortunately Pucey's back was to the Gryffindor table so none of the nonplussed boys could see her reaction.

Harry and Artemis were almost regretting having to sit staring at their breakfast for fifteen to twenty minutes until there was excited chatter coming from all around the Great Hall.

"I know that Merlin hawk! It's Clytemnestra, Potter's familiar! Wait … she's carrying something? Is that a medallion around her neck?!"

"Morgana, has Potter finally done it?!"

"Both of you?!" War couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Harry and Artemis could suddenly feel all the Slytherins around them vibrate excitedly and were tempted to look up but they didn't dare to until Loreley gave the signal. Very soon, Artemis had a miniature swan flapping in front of her; Heron were distracted. Harry prayed for her Gryffindor counterpart as she nervously raised her head; the Traveller was slowly getting bored of looking at jam.

War obliged her by giving a running commentary. "He's opened the box – is that a locket of some kind? Oh, he's opened it – ha, he's going red in the face, Evans you should see it … oh wait, you're not allowed to. He looks set to faint, I almost feel sorry for him. Oh, now he's reading the scroll … Potter, you any good at poetry?"

"She's decent enough," Bletchley commented. "Her poems were some of the funniest during the poetry club-"

"Thank everything good and holy – he sent up green sparks!" War announced, Harry grinning to herself as Artemis was gone in seconds. "Well at least we have one pair of pining idiots less to worry about."

"Evans, where are your birds?" Pucey asked, frowning.

It wasn't too long after the Hall finished celebrating on Artemis and Heron's behalf that the energy spiked again as the excited chatter returned.

"Evans, raven – wait a minute, there's two of them! They are heading going for Nott and Riddle – BLESSED AVALON, THEY'RE CARRYING SOMETHING!"

"Two ravens?! With boxes?! NO WAY!"

"It's happening!" the first year Slytherins started cheering.

A silver swan sat on Harry's toast and began flapping its wings. Taking a deep breath, Harry raised her head and looked towards the Gryffindor table.

#################################

Tom and Altair had been quietly jealous of Heron and Artemis' public reply and the locket that held a portrait of Artemis that was very likely painted by Harry inside it. They were happy for the both of them, obviously, but both boys doubted Harry would be that bold. Thus, when those two ravens, each wearing the official medallion of House Peverell, flew in, both Tom and Altair had felt their hearts stop for a moment. They exchanged awed and excited glances and then had bowed their heads in thanks to the delivery ravens, who bowed in return before taking to the sky.

It shouldn't have been too much of a surprise. Tom and Altair had both known what Harry had planned, but they never would have thought that she would be this daring! Harry, the Lady Regnant who enjoyed her privacy, was making her intentions clear for every wizarding family to see, essentially. Because there was no doubt there would be letters sent home about what had happened.

"Blinking hell, look at those," Arcturus whistled, looking at the details on the Courting Boxes.

The Courting Boxes were exquisitely carved, by magic no doubt, with all their Patronuses in each scene. Altair had to giggle at the funnier scenes and even Tom couldn't wipe the grin off his face. It was like looking at carvings fit for a castle or a cathedral, not a simple box! The top of the box was just as beautiful: there was a golden jackal, a Gargouille and a snake sitting on carved thrones of equal height. Both boys' hearts leapt up; the symbolism was clear. A partnership between three powerful Families, treated as equals.

"It's stunning," Altair breathed.

"You took the words out of my mouth," Tom agreed, putting one hand over his mouth.

"Come on, guys, what are you waiting for?" Artemis, who was now placed between Heron and Tom, grinned. "Open it!"

The Gryffindors, Slytherins, one Ravenclaw, and the Hufflepuffs behind craned their negs eagerly to watch, watched eagerly as Altair and Tom tried to lift the lids from their Boxes, only to find that the lid was practically stuck firm to the rest of the box. The boys frowned in confusion while Harry's girls started giggling; Minerva was grinning knowingly.

The boys tried to open it two more times with sheer force but again the lid resisted them.

"Whoopsie. It seems Harry has made this a bit more difficult," Druella smirked.

"Has she glued the bloody thing shut or something?" Ignatius was spluttering by the third attempt.

"Wait for it," Minerva replied cryptically, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Patience, boys. Watch."

Tom and Altair lifted their hands off the lid and lowered them, watching the box lid with unblinking looks. Suddenly, Runes and sigils that had secretly been carved into the box began to glow. The eyes of the jackal, Gargouille and the snake on the lid began to glow too. Everyone watched in awe as the jackal, Gargouille and snake began to move. They looked about them and then cocked their heads at Tom and Altair.

Their words seemed to echo around the Great Hall. "For those who come for our Witch's heart, this riddle we doth impart. Answer correctly, and from the box we will part."

The Ravenclaws lit up at this. There were a few Slytherins who shouted, "damn it, we forgot she was almost a Ravenclaw!"

There was a moment of silence before the jackal, Gargouille and snake spoke again.

"A meeting in a hollow,
A moment of sorrow,
A traitor's request for atonement,
A loved one's moment of triumph,
What do these four things have in common?
"

"Oh, bloody hell!" several Ravenclaws, including Quirrell and Goldstein chorused, clutching their heads in shock. They had expected to be able to help the suitors with this riddle, but apparently Harry Evans had out-manoeuvred an entire House!

"What kind of riddle is that?" Dolohov scoffed.

"That is bloody impossible!" Mallory added, before being nudged sharply in the ribs by Edward Diggory and Ossian Gilbert, both of whom scowled at him.

"Couldn't you have made that a bit easier?" everyone heard War berate the Lady Regnant.

"War, I think the whole point was for them to have to think about it!" Oizys Avery shot back.

But Tom and Altair – they regarded each other with knowing looks, sharing conspiratorial grins. Altair had asked to meet Harry at the hollow by the Black Lake to apologise and explain himself for betraying her. Harry had grieved next to a lake for her godfather. Tom had wanted a second chance; he had done so while walking with Harry by the Black Lake. And Tom was finally able to cast the Patronus next to the Kelpie's Pool.

They all had one thing in common.

"A body of water," Altair and Tom chorused confidently.

They sighed with relief – and their witnesses cheered – when the box stopped glowing and the lid slid off the box, allowing the boys to lift them away. The moment that they did, the boys' eyes widened at the vast array of gifts inside. Orion and Loreley were giddily exchanging looks; clearly they knew exactly what Harry had done.

The first thing Altair pulled out of his box was the beautiful crystal dragon, who was curled up asleep. It was absolutely adorable and definitely made with Harry's own magic, and it made his heart do several backflips. But just as he withdrew his hand from the dragon as he set it down, it started to uncurl and yawn. Altair watched in awed silence as the dragon sat up, began glowing with a blue-silver light. The Great Hall was soon filled with the sound of a violin playing. It was a piece no one had ever heard before, going from fiery, to gentle and calm back to a dark, intense to melancholy and then to something everyone could only describe as loving. With each change in note and feeling, so did the dragon's colours. The Nott heir's eyes welled up with each note; he knew Harry must have composed this song.

Once the song was finished, the dragon curled back up and went to sleep.

No one dared to move or speak for a moment before Tom reached into his own Box and gently lifted out his own dragon, his heart racing. Tom's breath hitched as his own dragon woke up the moment he lifted his hand away, uncurled itself, sat up proudly and too began to glow blue-silver. Right from the start, almost everyone got goosebumps from the song: it was dark, heavy, eerie and almost malignant to begin with – intense. The eerie tone still remained when the song first started to calm down, spiking heavily, before slowly coming to a section that was calming, neither angry nor happy and very quickly the notes got higher and happier and ending in a crescendo that had more than a few people blowing their noses into handkerchiefs and dabbing their eyes with their sleeves.

Again, as the song died down, there was a moment of pure silence as the dragon went back to sleep.

"Bloody hell," the chorus from the Weasley twins sounded too loud for the quiet room.

"How can she top that?!" Malum was the second who dared to speak, still wide eyed.

Tom and Altair ignored him and they each picked up a sterling silver case that was engraved with a snake and amphitere for Tom and jackal and sparrow hawk for Altair. The looked at each other and signed a count down together before opening the small oval object. Inside, their eyes widened at the beautiful, hand-painted miniature of Harry, looking more regal and Queen-like they had ever seen before. Even the painted image of Athenaïs exuded power! Orion dared to take a sneaky peek at the portrait. His eyes bugged out completely.

"Merlin!" was all he could comment.

"Orion, get back!" his fiancée hissed at him.

"Sorry, dear."

Altair and Tom shut their miniatures simultaneously and reluctantly placed them next to the dragons. The next present made Altair laugh excitedly and he was actually able to verbalise what he was feeling for the first time. "Tickets to see Lycoris Black, high box seats?! No way!"

Tom lifted out his with a disbelieving look. "But how – weren't tickets to see Lycoris Black always practically impossible to get a hold off?"

"Yep, especially VIP tickets like these! Mother and I were lucky to go at least once and we were sitting in one of the lower boxes, not the high ones," Altair's eyes shone.

"How did she …" Tom's voice tailed off and he looked diagonally across the table, ignoring his shocked and slightly jealous Knights, to look at a very smug Walburga Black. "Am I right in assuming you have had a hand in this, Heiress Black?"

"My lips are sealed," was the answer he got.

"Harry's pulled out all the stops," Tessa laughed as the boys carefully put the tickets under the miniatures, just in case someone had any ideas of stealing them.

Altair and Tom both took a fortifying breath as they took out an ornately decorated leaf of parchment and a small ring box. They made a silent pact to leave the ring boxes for last and looked at the parchment in front of them. Altair and Tom frowned in unison. Tom looked up from his own and looked to Altair.

"Altair, is yours written in Old English too?" he asked.

"Ah, so that's what this is!" Altair laughed dryly. "Tom, do you know how to pronounce it?"

"Vaguely. Just follow my lead," Tom smiled.

The boys put the parchment with strange words down and took a deep breath. "Lætaþ þone ġiedd insittendee asecgan!" they chorused in unison.

The words on the parchment shone with bright silver. The runes and sigils in the box soon followed, as did the inside of the box. Everyone watched as the painted scenes in the boxes began to play a painted movie, with the dragons providing a soundtrack, about a race between two rival pirate Captains for The Lost Treasure of the Kraken's Daughter, their adventures, and their meeting with the Selkie Astraya. Almost everyone noticed the implications of the friendship between the Captains and the Selkie; the children were crying when Astraya got injured protecting them from the giant sea Hydra.

Much to both Tom and Altair's delight once the story was done, instead of simply fading, it sculpted itself into a little pocketbook, one for each of them. How Harry had pulled it off, they had no idea, but the boys didn't care.

"I hate to say it, but Her Ladyship knows how to make a Courting Box," Dolohov begrudgingly stated.

"This is even better than I ever imagined it would be!" Ophelia squealed happily.

Tom and Altair finally opened the ring boxes and looked at each other with beaming grins. Stunning courting rings, decorated with animals clearly associated with their Patronuses and House emblems. As if they couldn't be taken more by surprise, the rings started glowing bright blue-silver.

Harry's musical but nervous tones sounded. "Now I have made my feelings for you as clear as day, for my doing anyway, what do you say? Yay; green, or nay; red?"

There wasn't one person in the Hall who wasn't watching Tom and Altair's reactions with unblinking eyes, eager to see what answer they would give. Professor Griffith had even dropped his cutlery he was so nervous. Many were visibly praying; War, Bletchley and Pucey were unable to sit still due to nerves. But they shouldn't have been that worried. Tom and Altair wasted very little time to give their answer; they both raised their eyes to meet Harry's and raised their wands.

Into the air went green sparks.

The Great Hall positively erupted.

"FUCKING FINALLY!" was a sentiment shared by many students who had watched the three Slytherins pine for each other. They were also promptly scolded by the faculty for using foul language.

Harry had all the while burst into smiles and had run over to the Gryffindor table where Tom and Altair were already waiting to embrace her, the three of them chuckling with the palpable relief they clearly all felt.

"You're unbelievable," Tom commented into her shoulder.

"I am lost for words," Altair admitted. "The work you put in … how long did it take you?"

"A whole week," Harry confessed wryly. "I wasn't avoiding you; I was trying to keep this as much of a surprise as possible."

"Let me guess – Ophelia and Ygraine didn't actually see a rat," Altair stated as they parted.

Harry grinned impishly. Tom and Altair scoffed. "We should have known," Tom chuckled.

Malum looked unbearably smug. "See?! I told you so! I knew something was up."

Ophelia and Ygraine preened, looking very pleased with themselves. "We were very good, were we not?" Ophelia grinned.

"You had me crawling under a flipping sofa to find a rat that didn't exist for more than fifteen minutes. Yes, you were good!" Altair grumbled.

As chuckles ran around their friends, Harry leant over and picked up the court ship rings and gestured to them with her head. "May I?"

"Of course, our Lady," the boys chorused with a grin.

Harry put their rings around their right-hand ring fingers, as was customary, and the moment she had put the last ring around Tom's finger, her spell activated, and a feminine copy of their ring formed around her own ring finger, cementing the bond between them.

"Well," Altair grinned, "I think I have something to write home about tonight!"

As did ninety per cent of the student body. By the end of the day, everyone from Lord Brutus Malfoy to the Minister of Magic to Winston Churchill and even the King knew that a Potter Heiress was officially courting the Lestrange Heir and that Heir Nott, the rising star of Hogwarts Tom Riddle and the mysterious Lady Regnant from the continent had entered an official courtship.

###############################################

With the news arriving from Hogwarts, courtesy of Ophelia Rowle, there was great excitement amongst the goblins and Cursebreakers who knew what it meant to have a Sacrum Vinculum match between Lady Peverell, the future Lord Nott and a boy many suspected was the as yet unrecognised Lord Gaunt, given the rumour that he had the ability to speak Parseltongue. Griphook was especially ecstatic at the prospect of such a powerful match – oh yes, having the Lady Peverell as an ally had definitely been a worthy investment!

He had already planned on getting in touch with the Lady Hera to give her the second half of her payment, but now it seemed that he also had to make sure that she understood her financial power should she choose to marry her suitors. But first, Griphook needed to deal with the business of the three Hit Wizards on behalf of the Goblin King.

Meg, Ghost and Goliath had come to the bank with intention of finding out the precise events that had led to their colleagues being freed from a cursed portrait. King Ragnok had naturally tried to stop them pursuing their line of questioning by citing that it was Gringotts business until the three of them pointed out their status as the Flamels' former protection detail and the fact Grindelwald had plots on going now on the shores of Great Britain itself to try and hunt down the Peverells. After Meg had showed the King some of her visions, to the chagrin of her two compatriots, Ragnok could not deny that they were not only telling the truth, but that their business could potentially affect the Lady Peverell. As a result, he had asked the three Hit Wizards to give them some time to think about what they discussed and to come to a formal decision.

Because the deadline was drawing closer, Griphook knew that the Lady Peverell's guardians needed to be apprised of the situation sooner rather than later. The goblin really did not want to ruin what should be a day of excitement and celebration for the Lady Regnant's nearest and dearest, but it needed to be done.

He had sent a letter to Thomas Burke, requesting a meeting, but he wasn't expecting Rosberg to come to his accounting desk and state in a low voice so only those two could hear, "Mr. Griphook, I have a Messrs. Thomas and Henry Burke, Miss Melanie Rollins and three portrait uncles to the Lady Peverell for you."

Griphook sat up and nodded. "Thank you, Rosberg. Is there a room we can use?"

"I have already reserved Meeting Room 7 for you, my friend," Rosberg smirked.

Griphook snorted. "Always one step ahead. I assume they are waiting for me?"

"Indeed," Rosberg confirmed brightly.

Griphook rolled his eyes and hopped off his chair and made his way to Meeting Room 7, which was fortunately only a minute's walk. The strange Peverell family and their allies were waiting patiently for him, all three of them reading books to one of the portraits. It was positively one of the oddest sights Griphook had ever seen.

Melanie was the first to notice his presence, smiling brightly. "Hey, you must be Griphook! My cousin's told me a lot about you. I am Melanie Rollins, as you probably might already be aware."

Griphook bowed his head in amusement. "Yes, ma'am. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I do not know if Her Ladyship has informed you, but may I offer my congratulations on the Lady Peverell's official courting?"

Antioch's portrait scoffed as Griphook closed the door behind him. "Come now Griphook, you should know better by now! Of course we are aware," he stated primly.

"Thank you, my friend," Ignotus responded, glaring at his brother.

"We are plotting to find a way to meet her suitors without being too indiscreet about it," Cadmus confessed. "We haven't found a good excuse yet."

The two Burkes and the Rollins witch rolled their eyes.

It was Henry Burke who got the topic back on track. "Your letter mentioned that you had something of great importance to discuss regarding one of the Lady Hera's previous jobs for you."

"Indeed," Griphook shoved the chair in front of his desk over to them grimly and hopped onto it. "Last Monday, in the late afternoon, we received a visit from three people, claiming to be colleagues of the two unfortunate souls the Lady Hera and her friends rescued from the painting Grindelwald sent her."

The atmosphere turned very serious in a matter of seconds. "Go on, Mr. Griphook," Thomas Burke encouraged.

"They went by the names of Meg, Ghost and Goliath. They had managed to track down their colleagues and visit them in St. Mungo's on Saturday and had spent the entirety of Sunday trying to track down who had rescued them in order to question them further," Griphook continued. "Naturally, all leads came to us here at Gringotts. His Grace refused to answer most of their questions but apparently Grindelwald is becoming increasingly bold in his bid to find the Peverells. His agents will be at Malfoy Manor for the Yule Ball."

"How do you know this? How do we even know these are not agents in disguise?" Ignotus wanted to know.

"Well, Meg apparently has the Sight, and she showed her visions to His Grace," Griphook confessed, taking all six of them by surprise. "Yes, we were very surprised by how candid they were as well, given the fact they are members of the Resistance."

"What do they want?" Melanie questioned further. "Because if they want Nick and Perrie back, they are going to find themselves having to deal with the Lady Hera herself."

"My understanding is that they want the sleeper agents, the agents Grindelwald is dispatching to the Yule Ball and to try and figure out how the Lady Hera freed their colleagues and to try and cure them of their … 'slightly cursed mental state', was the phrase Ghost used," Griphook responded. "We made it abundantly clear that here at Gringotts we know nothing and if we did we wouldn't tell them a thing."

"So, what would you like us to do?" Henry Burke inquired. "We have very little say in the business of House Peverell. We can only act as the Lady Hera instructs-"

"I would like you to meet the three of them and assess them," Griphook confessed. "His Grace has made it clear that he refuses to countenance putting the Lady Hera in any more unnecessary danger – unless of course we have another assignment for her."

"And where would this meeting take place?" Cadmus wanted to know.

"Here at Gringotts of course," Griphook reassured. He smirked a little. "Just in case we need to initiate containment procedures."

All twelve pairs of eyes widened slightly at that threatening statement.

"Are you willing to meet them?" the goblin sounded uncharacteristically nervous.

"Well if it concerns our beloved Niece, then we have no option," Antioch stated firmly. "But I warn you now, Griphook – do not bother her unnecessarily. Her mock exam week officially starts tomorrow and she has enough on her plate without worrying about three upstarts!"

Griphook knew better than to underestimate Antioch Peverell, even as a portrait. The goblin cleared his throat. "Agreed. Then I thank you for your time and I will get down to business. It will either be myself or Mr. Rowle who will be in touch."

The portraits, Thomas and Melanie started giggling as Henry Burke flushed.

"Petulant children," Henry commented.

"Thank you, Griphook. Have a good day," Melanie grinned as the group left.

Griphook resisted the urge to answer, "not bloody likely anymore."

##########################################

The last thing the Lady Amaris Nott expected to receive during the day was the news her only son had accepted the proposal from the girl he had been falling for since September, alongside the boy Altair very much had some powerful but conflicted feelings for. The Lady Nott was ecstatic, but that elation abated slightly when she realised that it now fell to her to inform her husband.

For once in his life, Lord Mattheo Nott was dealing with business from home. He had gone for the morning session in the Wizengamot and had surprised his wife and his servants – elf and human alike – by coming home for lunch and locking himself almost immediately in his study. At first, Lady Nott had fretted that there had been an incident in the chamber but when three hours passed she realised he was either focusing on a new piece of legislation or he was escaping from someone.

Maybe Anne has asked for one too many purses? came the rare snide comment in her mind.

When the formal notification from their son and heir arrived, Lady Nott was rather excited to have a pertinent reason to disturb him. She had even straightened her posture for the first time in a long while – she didn't notice herself, but her maidservant Avyanna, or Ava as Lady Nott always called her, did, as did Master Altair's Northern Inuit dog familiar Andras – and headed towards her wayward husband's study with something that felt like determination.

Lady Nott had no idea if it was or not but all she knew was that she was getting ready to defend her son's courtship. So when she came to the double cedar doors, she stood there a moment, taking a deep sigh and then wrapped her knuckles five times on the door quite loudly.

"I thought I said I was not to be disturbed, Frederick!" came the dulcet tones within.

Lady Nott gritted her teeth momentarily. "I apologise for disturbing you during your extremely important paperwork, my Lord, but I am afraid I have a matter of familial importance to convey to you that cannot wait," she stated, forcing her voice to stay as neutral as she could.

All the while, her heart was trying to escape from her chest. It was exacerbated by the fact there was a long silence coming from within.

"Come in," Lord Nott responded coldly.

Lady Nott opened the grand doors and stepped into the room she only had been in once or twice before: once during their forced introduction before their Presentation and once when she confronted him about Anne Underwood, or 'the Trollop', as Ava had dubbed her. as expected, her husband was behind his grand desk full of books and papers, with a Firewhiskey crystal bottle and a few photographs in frames on the desk. Lady Nott did not even want to countenance who they were of!

Lord Nott raised an expectant eyebrow. "Well? What news have you got to convey, madam?" he demanded, clearly wanting to be rid of her as quickly as possible.

She already felt the sweat begin to bead her forehead. Lady Nott felt like cowering in a manner of a naughty schoolgirl, but she gathered what little spine she had and stared her husband in those dark eyes of his. "Altair has received an official courting proposal, my Lord, and he has accepted," Lady Nott responded calmly, quietly celebrating that she managed to keep her voice controlled.

Lord Nott's countenance barely shifted. He simply blinked a few times and held his hand out expectantly for the letter. Lady Nott forced herself to draw closer to the man who has been a ghost to her since Altair's birth and used every ounce of energy she had not to flinch when the man practically snatched the letter from her hands. The man sighed heavily, like he felt he had something better to do, and read the letter from his only legitimate son and heir in such a way he was more scanning than reading it.

"The Lady Hera Evans, known as Harry," Lord Nott mused out loud. "If I have to hear another word about this girl from the Rowles, or Arcturus Black or Brutus Malfoy, I might such faint to escape that tedious conversation. Oh, and Tom Riddle. I remember that boy. That one has much potential."

Lady Nott braced herself for her husband's refusal. But, all he did was, fold the letter and flippantly set it aside, turning his attention back to his work already. She could hardly believe her eyes. "That is it?" she found herself saying in disbelief. "That is all you have to say on the matter, Mattheo?"

Lord Nott raised his head sharply at the rare usage of his name. "What else is there to say, Amaris? The two young people have decent reputations already; one is apparently a Lady Regnant in her own right. There is no cause for objection. What do you want me to say?"

Lady Nott gritted her teeth. "Well, since you are asking, I want you to write to your son and heir and express your approval. Take some time out of the day to acknowledge your heir."

Lord Nott narrowed his eyes at the undertone. "Very well. You may go. Have a good day, madam, and please close the doors behind you."

For the first time in almost eighteen years, the former Macmillan felt her hands curl. "I suppose there is only one consolation to this: that Altair is much less likely to dishonour his Consorts, as his father has done!"

Before an rebuttal could be given, or indeed that Lord Nott could process that his timid, weak wife suddenly found a pair of fangs to dig into him, Lady Nott had swept out of the room, slamming the doors behind her and fleeing to the safety of her chambers. Ava was already waiting for her there.

Lady Nott was as white as now. "Ava, I think a stiff bath is in order," she stated, visibly shaking.

"Of course, my Lady," Ava jumped to it immediately. "May I inquire what happened?"

"I … I … I stood up to Mattheo," was the disbelieving answer.

Ava almost dropped the bubble solution she was putting into the extensive tub in the ensuite. She coughed to clear her throat and straightened. Ava could barely keep her countenance as she stepped out to help her mistress undress. "Well, no offense, my Lady, but it is about bloody time."

Lady Nott smiled smally. "Yes, I think so too."

################################################

"WHY DID YOU TURN MY BISCUITS PINK, YOU INSUFFERABLE, OVERGROWN, SPOILT TOOTHPICK?!"

Alliances members and prisoners alike winced and sighed in unison as the latest angry outburst cascaded through the corridors and chambers of Nurmengard. It had become more and more frequent to hear Grindelwald explode for the most minor infraction, from a lack of sugar or honey to the size of his tea spoons to the fact someone had managed to escape from the Resistance but lost a shoe on the way. It had gotten so bad that the Alliance members had made some noise-cancelling ear plugs, and even gave some to their prisoners! The only things that could calm him down, was Queenie mothering him – i.e. putting on music, wrapping the Dark Lord in a blanket and providing him with a new puzzle to solve – the sight of Credence's latest outfit or news delivered from Rowle.

At present, Queenie was still researching the woman she would be impersonating, Credence was taking some me time in the bath and Rowle had not delivered any news since Monday, which meant the Dark Lord was a walking time bomb and the Elder Wand had decided to pull his beloved biscuits into its campaign of petulant pranking.

Fuming, Grindelwald chomped into the pink chocolate cookie and was a little peeved to find that that chocolate chips had been turned into fruit chunks! The Elder Wand hummed with laughter.

Albus did this prank once, was an errant thought that ran through the Dark Lord's head that he tried to squash almost immediately.

To make matters worse, Grindelwald's visions were becoming more sporadic and when the Weavers did allow him to see something, it was so vague that the Dark Lord knew that not even his new skull-hookah could elucidate properly. He really did miss his old one. Damn Leta Lestrange and her last hurrah! And when he did finally get a vision that was clear, he saw three of his agents get their butts handed to them by an odd stone dragon with an amulet around its neck and a giant Shadow dragon attacking Nurmengard.

Gellert had relied on his Sight and the Wand in order to win his victories; his strategies were guided by them. He wasn't a born strategist; that had been Albus …

"Sir! Sir!" the excited calls from Vida knocked him out of his thoughts. It seems she was prepared to risk kitchen duty to deliver this message.

Grindelwald turned his eyes to the door expectantly. Seconds later, Vida came bursting in, followed by an exhausted Queenie and a rather jubilant Maia Carrow. "Yes, what is it?" he demanded coolly. "It not a shoe sale is it, Vida?"

Carrow tittered while Queenie kept her eyes trained on him. Vida flushed red. "No, sir. Rowle has been in touch. It seems that Ambrose and Bradley's meddlesome team are in England after all and have been at Gringotts to discuss what happened to the two of them." Carrow snorted at that. "He has also found himself a partner for the Ball – and, this is where it gets good in my opinion. According to our translators, our favourite little Cursebreaker is officially courting! He does not mention who though…"

Grindelwald's expression softened slightly. "Courting you say?"

Queenie smiled sadly. He sounded almost like an absent father who found out his little girl had grown up without him. "Apparently so."

"Young love, always such a treasure," Grindelwald smirked to himself. "Let's hope it will end well for her." He looked at Vida. "Tell our friends to tell our eyes and ears in Gringotts to keep an eye on Meg, Ghost and Goliath and report anything they may yet say. Has he found the Silver Dragon yet?"

"Nothing. They seemed to have disappeared into thin air," Carrow responded.

"Interesting," the Dark Lord mused. "Very interesting…"

"Our agents also have gone back underground without much issue," Vida continued.

"Well that is something I suppose," Grindelwald drawled. "How is your preparation coming along, ladies?"

Vida huffed. "My girl has the worst taste imaginable. I think I will have to adjust her dress before the Ball."

"I think I am prepared," Queenie replied easily. "We just need a time and place to put them to sleep."

"Good," Grindelwald grinned. "Do not forget a gift for your hosts, girls. We don't want to be rude."

"We won't," Vida huffed. "I might get Lady Malfoy a better cloak. I saw her latest photograph in Witch Weekly; I would not want to be caught dead in that dreadful design by Niccolò de Volterra even if you paid me a million Galleons!"

Carrow's lip curled into a sneer. "Of course because Vida Rosier always has such impeccable taste in clothes. May I remind you that you once tried to make orange work with green?"

"Ladies, I think that is enough of that," Queenie interjected before Vida could make a comeback because Grindelwald's cursed eye started glowing. "Plenty to do and preparations to make." As Vida and Carrow left with a huff, glaring at each other, the Legilimens turned to her friend as Carrow shut the door behind her. "Sir, may I have a word?"

"Of course, my dear," Grindelwald stated, not so subtly fortifying his Occlumency shields for this conversation. "What is it?"

"You are shouting more and more often," Queenie responded candidly. "I understand the pressures you're under, doll. I can read you all too well, especially after you have had your cocoa. Somethin' is really badly wrong and I just want to make sure you are OK."

Gellert regarded her with a cold look and Queenie thought he was contemplating strangling her again, but then he smirked slightly. "You know me, I am a bit of a grumpy old man," he chuckled.

Queenie's eyes turned onto the Wand. "You called your wand a toothpick, darlin'. That goes beyond grumpy."

Gellert's eyes flashed dangerously. "Careful, Queenie. You are bordering impertinence."

Queenie smiled slightly in an overtly playful manner. "Darlin', I can feel the feelin's of others and read their minds without tryin' to. Everything about me is impertinent." The playful glint was soon replaced by one that was almost menacing. "You wand ain't listen' to ya, sugar, and that could be a problem for all of us but mainly for you. You ain't powerless without a wand but if your wand refuses to defend you, we lose our leader and our cause!"

Gellert glared at her. "You think I don't know that?! Why else do you think it is now imperative I find the Peverells? They are the only ones who can tell me how to regain its loyalty. The other Hallows are a bonus at this point."

Queenie regarded him for a moment. "How did you win its allegiance to begin with?"

A cold silence descended on the pair. Grindelwald regarded her with a Basilisk glare.

The General didn't need to break through his Occlumency shields to know the answer. "You didn't win it, did you?"

The Dark Lord had a predatory grin on his face. "Gregorovitch was not worth the effort to fight for it. Plus, he was arrogant; the Wand was barely guarded. It was ripe for the picking, just as the world is for us. Just as your eyes will be for the birds if you breathe a single word about what we have discussed!"

Queenie flinched slightly. "Don't fret, doll. I was not plannin' on sayin' anythin'."

"No, of course not," Gellert chuckled. "You were just expressing your concern for the grumpy old man in the castle! Now, Queenie, you have some of your people scheduled to return. I am sure you want to have a moment's peace before you have to compile a report. Off you go."

The General fled the room just as she heard Grindelwald bellow, "WHAT IS WITH THIS UNSIGHTLY MOSAIC?! IS THAT A – HOW DARE YOU, YOU INSOLENT, VULGAR TWIG!"

Queenie knew it would be wise to avoid Grindelwald for the next twenty four hours as much as possible.

#################################################

On the morning of Saturday 20th November, it had become the duty of the Houses to not vex the seventh years and to help keep them calm. As with the fifth years, the seventh years taking Advanced and Intermediate Astronomy would be taking their first exam that evening and the stress of the eleven students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw was felt by their fellow seventh years because it meant it was their turn to see how well their efforts had paid off.

Walburga, Druella, Ophelia, Ygraine and Orion were the only ones from their group of friends who went to Hogsmeade, mainly to pick up the rest of Harry's new wardrobe, much to the Lady Regnant's chagrin. The rest of the group were balancing Occlumency and Legilimency practise – Harry flat out refused to invade anyone's mind so acted as moderator – with coursework, dissertations and revision. Artemis, Loreley and Minerva were invited to enter into the Snake Pit, and were treated to a surprise attack from Athenaïs, which had made Artemis and Minerva jump out of their skins but Loreley did not so much as blink.

The group had gone through Mind Magic class and chugging through their other work when Harry, getting irked at the silence descending on the common room, got up from her spot between Tom and Altair and decided to switch the radio on and started to work on finding the music channel. Loreley and Athenaïs were playing a game of Match the Picture, with Loreley winning by one point. Just as she did, her girls and her future business partner returned, looking triumphant and all of them loaded under boxes.

"Harry, get your butt to the dorm immediately," Walburga ordered.

"Not until I found the channel I want," Harry responded, still dialling the knobs on the radio. "How old is this damn thing – no I do not want the politics channel! We are not opening that can of worms. Ah, music. Oooooo, they're playing The Saltarello!"

Walburga was not having it. "Hera Elizabeth Peverell!"

"I am currently almost finished with my dissertation and I still have a few essays to write, woman! I need my music," Harry shot back.

"Yes, those essays are meant to be handed in two weeks, you mad woman," Ygraine pointed out. "Just indulge us. Please?"

"Kill me now," came the dry comment from the reluctant Lady Regnant.

"I don't want to face a wrathful Riddle and Altair, so no," Druella stated brightly.

Harry huffed and turned to look at her amused suitors. "Help me?"

Altair grinned. "Sorry, Harry. I am rather looking forward to seeing those dresses."

"I concur completely," Tom added, smirking.

"There's more than just dresses," Walburga stated haughtily.

"Really?" Tom looked too excited for Harry's liking.

"I refuse to become the lead model in a spontaneous Hogwarts fashion show," Harry grumbled.

"Too late!" the girls chorused as they began to drag their friend towards their dorms, taking the rest of the boxes from Orion. Athenaïs joined them, eager to see her Witch's new clothes.

"I am not courting for a day and I am already being hung out to dry by my knights in rusty armour," mock-sulked the Lady Regnant.

Tom and Altair spluttered and gaped. "Knights in rusty armour?!" Altair repeated through laughs.

Harry attempted to maintain her grumpy countenance. "I am a damsel in distress and you are refusing to save me from the Walburga dragon."

That comment killed her friends in five seconds flat.

Harry gritted her teeth and allowed her girls to begin dressing her up in her new outfits, and begrudgingly admitted the pieces looked much better in real life than they did on paper. Harry even found that they were easy to combine with her leather jacket. She also loved three of her old fashioned, Gothic jackets. With a few of the girls' favourites, the Lady Regnant was dragged out to show their friends her transformation.

"Oh Morgana and Morgause, Harry looks conventional," Felix smirked at the third outfit. "This is certified nightmare fuel."

"Thank you, Felix," Harry responded brightly while her suitors looked set to hex him.

"You really don't look like Harry Evans," Arcturus agreed. "Definitely Lady Hera Peverell, though."

"No offense, sis, but I was worried about that one in particular but you somehow pull it off," Artemis grinned and got up from her spot next to Heron on the floor and went to investigate Harry's outfit before lighting up. "Merlin's neck scarf, there are tree patterns in the fabric! Yew if I am not mistaken. That's so cool!"

The Lady Regnant smiled but grew quickly agitated by the attention. "Can I change now?"

Her friends rolled their eyes but nodded. The Knights laughed at how Harry could not get back to her dorm fast enough, Athenaïs looking disappointed. She loved seeing her Mistress looking so powerful and spooky. Tom placated her with lots of pats.

Orion and Harry's Slytherin girls collected their own books and coursework, and joined the group. As he settled down, the Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black grinned at the Heir to the Noble House of Nott. "So, Altair, have you decided what you would like for your birthday yet?"

Harry came back into the common room just as Altair shrugged nonchalantly. "I already have what I want most," he responded candidly. "Now if someone could send a Howler to my father telling him to go and fling himself into the North Sea, that would be highly appreciated."

Felix snorted. "Not a very subtle way of seizing your father's throne, Nott!"

"I have no interest in his fucking throne," Altair growled as Harry retook her place between him and Tom, the Lady Regnant curling up to him. Altair immediately put his arm around her, holding her close to him, squeezing her slightly as if to give himself strength. "What I am also not interested in is his so-called approval!"

At this, Altair momentarily removed the arm that was around Harry to pull out a letter on the inside of his jacket pocket and handed it to Felix, his eyes dark with palpable hatred. Felix gulped slightly at this but still took the letter and read through it, Arcturus and Malum reading over his shoulder.

Arcturus snorted as soon as he was done reading. "The nerve of the man! 'I am pleased to know that you have managed to find two people with suitable reputation and growing rank; I almost feared you would choose someone beneath you.' How bloody dare he?"

"He has no right," Harry agreed, scoffing. Altair gave her arm a reassuring rub and a quick, warm kiss on the top of her head.

"He has every right, unfortunately," Tom replied grimly. "Without Lord Nott's approval, our courtship may not appear legitimate to many of the pureblood families still stuck in the Dark Ages. He's given it; that's another worry dealt with."

"Lord Nott can go kiss a Dementor, the hypocritical earth worm," Harry snarled viciously.

"Agreed," Arcturus growled.

"Not going to argue there," Tom reassured with a nasty smirk.

Dolohov narrowed his eyes at the vitriol shown by the three of them. Worried and slightly scared looks were exchanged amongst the group. Even Athenaïs shied away slightly, causing Malum, Heron and Artemis to give her reassuring pets.

"Are we missing something?" Dolohov demanded.

"Like we would tell you if you were, Dolohov," Arcturus responded coolly as two pairs of eyes behind him started to glow menacingly.

"Caius, you should stop poking your nose where it isn't wanted," Abraxas added lightly, knowing that his friend was seconds away from being hexed into oblivion by a powerful Dark wizard and the Mistress of Death.

"Abraxas, I was only asking if there is something they're not telling us!" Dolohov protested. "I am not trying to antagonise anyone-"

"Your track record is against you on that one, Dolohov," Arcturus sneered.

Dolohov flinched at the coldness in Arc's tone.

The girls, who had also been reading the letter from Altair's father, frowned too.

"I have never heard a father so disinterested in the life of his son and heir as Lord Nott does," Ophelia commented, shaking her head in shock. "What is wrong with him? Is the stress getting to him?"

Altair snorted at that, laughing coldly. "If only."

"Speaking of approval of families," Walburga looked at the Lady Regnant who was still curled up against the side of Altair, "have you heard anything from your guardians and your uncles yet about meeting Riddle and Nott yet?"

Harry shook her head. "Nope, but I suspect I will soon. I have already sent the photos back; I expect a demand in the reply letter. Especially from Uncle Anthony."

"Have you thought of a good person to chaperone for Lycoris' concert?" Druella asked with a slight grin.

"I was considering asking Melanie," Harry responded, "but then I remembered Lady Nott is also a Lycoris fan."

"You wouldn't mind Mother being our chaperone?" Altair lit up. "Really?"

"Yep," Harry popped the 'p' lightly. "Tom, what do you say?"

"I say ask her," Tom answered with a grin.

Altair beamed at the both of them.

Walburga then rounded on Artemis and Heron. "Have you heard from your families yet?"

"We have," Heron flushed red. "My parents want to meet Artemis during the Yule holidays and get to know her."

"And my father has expressed his delight, but is surprised I have picked a Lestrange," Artemis scoffed. "As if I could pick a Bones or a Macmillan like my father was expecting! I'd die of boredom within a week."

As the group chuckled, Harry grinned impishly. "Or a Wolpert."

This caused the chuckles to evolve to all out laughter. Artemis growled playfully. "I still fucking hate you two for that!" she huffed. "But you're right. I would have likely turned Luke into a rug."

"What do your sisters say?" Harry wanted to know.

"Hecuba is not happy, but there is nothing much she can do about it, considering the fact she is on thin ice with Father for being partially responsible for putting you in danger," Artemis informed, looking unbearably smug. "Electra, though, couldn't be happier. 'At least we have Father off our backs for a while, now. Thanks for buying us some more time, little sis!'"

"Your sister is on thin ice?" Harry's eyes widened. "Artemis, please tell me you didn't tell your father that she was one of the Aurors who delivered the Time Compass to Gringotts."

"I absolutely did," the Potter heiress gave her a sassy look.

"Oh, Arty!"

"Hecuba was lucky she didn't receive a jinxed letter!" Artemis' Imperius eyes flashed dangerously.

"Remind me again which exams we have first?" Malum sighed, head in his hands, cutting through the growing tension.

"Astronomy today for some, then Monday we all have Charms theory exam, Potions theory exam, and then the practical Transfigurations after lunch followed by History of Magic," Ophelia answered with a small smile.

There was a moment of daunted silence until it was disturbed by the group laughing at Athenaïs dancing – well, jumping from side to side and chirping along to the lyrics – to the music on the radio.

"So, a little birdie told us that you girls have been throwing stuff around your dorms and fighting," Felix grinned at Harry, Walburga, Druella, Ophelia and Ygraine, who exchanged looks that were reminiscent of deer being caught in headlights.

Ygraine scoffed. "So War did blab to someone."

"We were not throwing things around," Ophelia corrected. "That was Harry practising her dagger throwing before she disappeared off to the Room of Requirement, as always and Druella tried to do it but failed."

The Rosier heiress gave her a pointed look before beginning to sulk.

"She just needs training," Harry tried to soothe her friend's ire as she looked up from the essay on Seelies and Unseelies.

"And we were not fighting," Walburga sniffed. "Harry and I had a duel before bed."

"What?!" Altair and Tom blanched.

"With rapiers," Harry added nonchalantly. "Wally is actually a decent opponent."

"I duel with my brother Alphard, remember?" Walburga reminded primly, looking quite pleased with herself.

"That is clear but your footwork does need work," Harry responded bluntly.

"I know," the Black heiress huffed.

"So, you duel with Wally?" Orion pouted a little. "Are you still willing to train us? Tom mentioned that you would not mind-"

"I think it would be best if we picked a day during the Yule holidays and I will see if I can bribe Thomas, Henry and Melanie into helping me," Harry chuckled.

"Wait …" Artemis lit up. "You mean that we would get to come to your home?"

That had made the others sit up a little straighter than they had been. Clearly they had not considered that implication.

Harry blinked a few times and smiled brightly. "Yes, it would. That's not a problem is it?"

"A problem?" Arcturus spluttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "Harry, have you any idea how many of us wish that we could step onto Peverell land at least once? To be invited to your home – which ever one you occupy right now – is an honour."

"Well then I suppose we need to pick a good date that suits for all. Check your diaries, would you?" Harry grinned.

"But the 20th is off limits as is the 24th," Walburga stated. "For obvious reasons."

"Indeed," Harry agreed.

The conversation was tactfully cut short as the common room began filling up once more with younger ones coming back from the library and the fourth, fifth and sixth years who had been to Hogsmeade and kindly brought back some sweets from Honeydukes for the stressed out seventh years.

#############################################

Harry and Athenaïs discovered that slipping out that evening was a lot more difficult than normal, mainly because it seemed that the seventh and sixth year boys insisted on staying up a whole lot longer than usual. The girls had all gone to bed an hour previously and the Mistress of Death had thought the boys had done the same until she sensed the multiple life forces in the common room.

Harry and her familiar exchanged a look that translated to, 'Uh-oh, not good', and with a quiet Tospringe, the Traveller opened the door that led to the common room, making sure that she and her Gargouille were still fully covered by the Invisibility Cloak.

"-you must be cheating, Flint! Your dragon was nowhere near there."

"Oh suck a Liquorice Wand, Mulciber. No one likes a spoilt sport. I hear Warrington doesn't like winging cry-babies," Flint teased back.

"I have no idea what you're on about, but you ain't funny, Flint," was Felix's taut reply. "OI! Heron, Potter isn't here. You have no one to impress. Give me my chalice back!"

Heron chuckled with restrained mirth. "Not a chance! You left your lair unguarded for too long, Felix my friend. Good thing War did not see that, indeed!"

"You two are barmy. Why would Warrington give a shit?"

Dolohov snorted. "Come off it, mate. We may have all been focused on getting Heron and Potter together and to try and get Peverell to put Nott and Tom out of their misery, but that doesn't mean we didn't notice you're paying Christina Warrington more attention than normal."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Harry and Athenaïs exchanged an awed look. Felix Mulciber had a crush on War?

"Sure you don't," Altair chuckled. "You never get Calming Draughts for the rest of us when we're losing our minds, but you did for her! Why don't you just admit it that you like her enough to care?"

"A little rich coming from the guy who spent almost three months pining after the girl he wanted and is still refusing to bloody kiss her!" Felix shot back.

Harry's eyes bugged out of her sockets. Athenaïs puffed up her cheeks in an attempt not to begin laughing.

"Felix!" Tom snapped. "That was uncalled for."

But it seemed that Felix's line had been crossed. "I could even say the same about you, Tom. You three are courting for fuck's sake and both of you haven't made a single move on your own Lady. I suggest you two man up and do something about that before you start lecturing me! Or better yet, get Malum to talk to Ophelia instead of trying to escape from her every chance he gets?"

Harry, is everything OK? You're still in the common room, Thanatos had opened the Link.

Tosti, I am learning some very interesting things right now. I will be with you as soon as possible. I have a bit of problem – mainly, the boys aren't in bed!

Oopsie, Hypnos commented. Would you like me to rectify the situation?

Harry then grinned evilly. No, no, I will deal with this myself.

Oh boy, the twin gods commented before closing the Link.

Harry then frowned and pondered momentarily before a diabolical thought struck her. She still had not forgiven Malum, Felix and Dolohov entirely for their prank at Samhain and all of the boys had their guards down.

The daughter of Prongs smirked. Prank time!

She opened the door a tad further and focused on the fire in the fireplace, imagining the heads of a Cerberus being formed within. She felt her magic gather to her eyes and her eyes bleed silver. "Cwiofyr!" she incanted lowly.

The flames within immediately sculpted themselves into an image that was akin to Fluffy the Cerberus. The issue was, none of the boys seemed to have noticed the change in the fireplace at all because they were still arguing if Flint cheated or not. Harry, Athenaïs and the fire Cerberus all scowled in unison. The Mistress of Death's eyes glowed silver once more.

"Windlband!"

A powerful blast of wind swept into the common room, blasting the door of the older girls' dorm open, the door to the older boys' dorm open and the other doors as well. Now, this did get a reaction – the boys all leapt to their feet, a few of them drawing their wands. Harry slipped into the common room like a ghost, silently observing the boys, Gargouille at her heels.

"What the hell was that?!" Malum demanded.

"Powerful magic, that's what!" Flint retorted as he and Greengrass went to check the corridor towards their dorms while Heron and Arcturus went to peer carefully down the corridor to the girls' rooms.

"Where did it come from?" Tom demanded as the rest of the boys began getting up to investigate as well.

"I have no idea, Tom," Heron answered easily, utterly nonplussed.

"Me neither," Flint agreed.

"No one down here, boys," Greengrass informed, coming back from searching their own corridors.

Harry smiled smally at Tom and Altair's backs. Forgive me, my sweethearts.

"Āgal!" she incanted in a whisper to the fiery Cerberus, who had been watching the proceedings curiously.

The living flaming Cerberus then started to bark and howl Mozart's 'Queen of the Night Aria' at impressive tones, causing all the boys to jump fifteen feet into the air and screaming at impressive octaves. Felix, Dolohov and Malum actually clutched each other in fear; Tom had put himself between Altair and the intruder with his wand drawn.

While the seventh and sixth year boys were left to deal with a singing fire Cerberus, Harry and Athenaïs safely made their escape up to the Room of Requirement, splitting their sides laughing. Thanatos, Hypnos and Melinoë were laughing as well, having clearly spied on her subtly.

"I almost pity poor Tom and Altair for falling for such a merciless prankster," Melinoë giggled.

"I will make it up to them at some point," Harry flushed red with guilt.

"I bet they quietly love that about you," Hypnos chuckled. "So, you wish to train your friends to fight without magic?"

The Mistress of Death nodded meekly. "Yes. Just in case they find themselves without a wand or wandless magic that is somehow suppressed."

"It's a good idea," Melinoë grinned. "We'd be happy to help."

Harry sighed with relief. She then frowned. "You were looking into my head again, weren't you?"

The three deities looked a little guilty. The Traveller huffed. "So I guess you also know that I am stumped for a gift for Altair's birthday."

"Well that is why we wanted to meet tonight. To help you with that and also start your lesson in Soul Fire Forging. We thought you could perhaps gift your man a set of daggers for his very own," Thanatos smirked.

Harry blushed. "Sounds perfect. Kills two birds with one stone; let's do it."

The Room, surprising Harry once more, turned itself into something closely resembling a forge. She dumped her stuff as she watched with a grin. As the Mistress of Death started studying the exemplar daggers the Room had also provided, the gods began their lesson.

"Soul Fire Forging is the primary method that the Cyclopes used to forge Zeus' lightning bolt, Poseidon's trident and the Helm of Darkness. Now you may not become a forgemaster for the gods or be able to create divine weapons, but you will be able to create some powerful devices," Hypnos informed her. "You used the souls of your animals and your own magic to create a musical statues, which is the basics. So now we will teach you how to control your own Soul Fire before we begin picking the metal you wish to work with. Close your eyes and focus on your own life force."

Harry did as she was instructed. It was an admittedly odd sensation to feel her own soul humming away in the recesses of her stomach, feeling so light and … fluffy, almost. It was even odder than feeling her own magic coursing through her veins.

"Good. Now carefully make your own soul vibrate but not too much," Thanatos continued.

As the Traveller followed the instructions, she felt a rather funny feeling in her stomach. It was almost like she had eaten something off the day before but it wasn't making her feel nauseous. No sooner had this happened, Harry found her right hand being snaked by a coil of Soul Fire, weaving its way in between her fingers in a rather playful manner.

Almost instinctively, the Mistress of Death snapped her fingers, igniting the Soul Fire further, much to her own delight. It tickled a lot but that was about it. She formed a ball of Soul Fire experimentally and was rather gleeful at how perfectly spherical it was.

"Very good, as always," Melinoë nodded proudly. "So, which metal do you want to practise with? Olympian bronze, Stygian steel, Elysian aluminium?"

Harry blanched. "Erm … what's the difference between them?"

"Olympian bronze is the lightest of them all which is excellent for quick and agile attacks but weapons do need a whole lot of tender love and care because the metal is a bit sensitive," Hypnos began to clarify. "Stygian steel is hewn from the depths of the River Styx itself so it packs quite a bit of a punch. The metal is a bit temperamental though. Elysian aluminium is definitely the safest option since it is mellow but not a push over and does both offensive and defensive quite well."

"Your own weapons are made of an alloy made from Elysian aluminium and Stygian steel," Thanatos grinned.

Harry's eyes shone. "Elysian aluminium is first I think."

"Good choice! Let's get you started."

Athenaïs was very soon laughing quite loudly as attempt after attempt went literally up in flames. The first two daggers were melted in Harry's Soul Fire while attempts number three and four were taken off the Soul Fire too early and too late; as a result the blades were practically liquid. Attempt number five was a bit more successful, mainly because Harry had learned to regulate the temperature of her Soul Fire, time how long the metal should be left on it and then could be struck and moulded before being put into conjured cold water. Attempt five at least looked like a dagger.

There were four more blunders before the Mistress of Death and her familiar returned to the Slytherin dungeons to get some sleep. She was surprised to see that her fiery Cerberus was still in the fireplace, sleeping sounding in its embers; clearly the boys had not managed to get rid of it.

##############################################

Tom spent much of his Sunday in the Restricted Section of the library, searching desperately for any and all books on Soul Magic. All the books he had used five years previously mentioned nothing about how a Horcrux could be destroyed and the soul inside of it preserved; once again, it seems he had been the first to even contemplate undoing what he had done. Felix's comments the evening previously and Tom's ever growing desires for Altair and Harry spurred him to find a solution before either of them could find out the heinous acts he had done in a bid to escape death.

But nothing. He had searched for almost four hours straight and there was nothing! Absolutely nothing on fixing a soul!

In his frustration, Tom flung aside Secrets of the Forgotten Arts as soon as he realised it didn't hold the answer he needed either. The young Dark wizard felt tears threaten to prick his eyes as he hung his head.

"What have I done … what have I done … they will hate me … they'll leave …"

Tom couldn't feel being that alone again; he couldn't bear the prospect of losing Harry and Altair to his own foolishness. He couldn't lose them to two damn Horcruxes!

"Throwing books is mean, you know. You hurt its back."

Tom looked up sharply to see Loreley Malfoy kneeling at the entrance to the aisle he was in, caressing the book on Dark magic like a wounded animal. "There, there, Mister Book. Forgive my friend. He is under a lot of pressure."

Tom cleared his throat and began dabbing his eyes. "Loreley. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, me? Good question," Loreley sighed whimsically. "I was revising Herbology with Harry, Nott and Heron and then I felt like I needed a walk. I met Athenaïs, Sigyn and Seraphina on their walk – I said hello and somehow I ended up here. Curious."

"Yeah," Tom whispered. "Curious."

"Why are you angry at the book?" Loreley asked with a frown.

Tom sniffed. "I need answers. Badly. But I can't find them anywhere." He scoffed. "You wouldn't understand."

"Are you sure about that?" the Malfoy heiress asked slyly as she sat down on the floor opposite him. "Try me."

Tom felt his eyes water once more as he met the kind, gentle saffron orbs of the girl he strongly started suspecting of being a Seeress with True Sight. "Do you remember my Boggart?"

"Of course. Death. Your death."

Tom swallowed. "I did something … terrible, in order to try and escape it. But now … I want to undo what I have done and I have no idea how to because the books I used to do the thing I did – they have no answers. I hate what I've done because I will lose the two people who matter more to me than … immortality, if they ever find out."

Loreley hummed. "Are you sure that you're not missing a step?"

Tom frowned. "Missing a step? Like them wanting to put me into Azkaban?"

Loreley scoffed as though the idea was absurd. "Don't be melodramatic. It really doesn't suit you, Mr. Riddle. No. Did you happen to ask anyone for help?"

Tom scoffed. "Absolutely not. No one would have help me if I did and none of the Knights know what I have done. I only ever asked some questions to-"

The answer dawned on him instantly. "Professor Slughorn."

Loreley smirked knowingly. "Well, I suggest you try and catch Professor Slughorn during his afternoon tea. Someone has sent him his favourite treats so he should be in a good mood. But if I may advice you on what to do afterwards?"

Tom looked at her with disbelieving eyes but gave a curt nod.

"Write to Mr. Thomas Burke," was the answer that took him further by surprise. "He will know what to do."

"How do you know?" Tom whispered. "How is it you already seem to know…?"

"You already know the answer to that question," Loreley got to her feet with a serene sigh. "I did say the thing you fear the most would be the thing you care about the most, after all. I was right about that too."

"What are you-"

As Tom was about to question her, it hit him like a freight train.

Death.

The thing you fear the most will be the thing you care about the most.

Lady Hera Peverell.

Descendant of the brothers. The ones who had the Hallows. The Deathly Hallows. Together they make one Master of Death.

The Hallows … Harry knows where the Hallows are.

Oh … No … NO.

Tom felt himself take a sharp intake of oxygen."Harry's the Mistress of Death, isn't she?" Tom whispered in disbelief. "That's why Grindelwald is after her!"

That triumphant grin on Loreley's face as she left was all the answer he needed.

She left Tom shell-shocked, staring into space as several thoughts ran through his head.

I need better Occlumency defences.

Hopefully Slughorn will not jinx me out of his office.

I just had to fall in love with the Mistress of Death, didn't I?

###############################

Monday morning saw a spike in tensions in the seventh years. They tried to keep up appearances but everyone knew that things were off the moment Orion Black woke up and kept his mouth shut from the time he stepped into the shower all the way to breakfast. He wasn't even excited the moment Arcturus told him that snow had been predicted for the weekend of Altair's birthday lunch. In fact, Orion looked set to faint at any given moment. The girls were not any better – none of the girls were gossiping about anything, not even the fact that Mallory apparently already had moved onto girlfriend number four and that Slughorn still could not figure out who had conjured a fiery Cerberus into the Slytherin fireplace.

In fact it was Tessa Prewett, Yvonne Randall, Katie Huxley and a bunch of the other female Gryffindors who had taken up that mantel. The only one who seemed relatively at ease, was Harry herself.

She was humming jaunty tune after jazzy number as she sketched designs for daggers: some of them with golden jackal designs, others with sparrows, others with Triskelion designs although she didn't know what possessed her to contemplate drawing those. As Harry worked she went through Chim Chim Che-ree, Hakuna Matata, Livin' on a Prayer and started whistling Heigh-Ho.

Most had no complaint to make about the tunes because some of the songs were helping to keep everyone calm by giving them something else to focus on. Unfortunately, not everyone was very tolerant to an overload of the sense at present.

"Evans, quit that infernal noise, for fuck's sake!" Dolohov exploded, slamming his hand down onto the table.

Many people flinched at the force the Russian Knight used, and then promptly took sharp intakes of breath as Harry and Artemis' cups full of pumpkin juice keeled over onto the table. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't get her sketchbook out of the way in time and her book was soon soaked in the orange sap.

"Kilgharrah's saggy balls, Dolohov!" Druella cursed as Harry quickly rescued her book and began working her Cleaning Charms on her book. "Was hitting the table necessary or something, you dead brained Inferi?"

"You could have asked her to be quiet without doing that," Abraxas added lightly.

"It's fine," Harry reassured, her attention directed on saving her beloved sketches.

Artemis snorted, glowering at the regretful boy. "No, it isn't! Dolohov needs to stop being such a child. Oh wait, not even the first years act in this manner! What the hell is your problem?!"

Dolohov shot her a dirty look but didn't say anything. Harry, meanwhile, had managed to dry her sketch book and she was relieved to note that there was no lasting damage to any of them. One or two were rather smudged, though but they were mostly sketches of Hogwarts architecture.

"Phew! No lasting damage," Harry stated brightly.

"Awwww, now I don't get to kick his butt into the Black Lake," Artemis pouted.

"You couldn't even if you tried," Dolohov shot back.

"You want to bet, Red?" Artemis challenged, her eyes flashing dangerously.

The moment that she called him that, Dolohov's eyes had darkened dangerously and he had jumped to his feet. "Do. Not. EVER. Call. Me. That. AGAIN!" he snarled, visibly shaking with anger. Heron was ready to draw his wand, as were several others. "If you know what is good for you, Potter!"

Before the teachers could get out of their seats, because they had seen the dangers and were already deciding to intervene, Dolohov grabbed his stuff and stormed out of the Hall. Harry frowned and she looked at her doppelgänger with disappointed eyes. Because Harry knew why Dolohov had reacted in that way.

"You went too far," she stated gently.

"How? I don't get it. They're Russian, the Dolohovs," Artemis frowned.

"No, you accused him of being a Communist," Harry stated bluntly as she too started to get to her feet. "It's a good thing Charms is first. I will see you guys in a minute."

Altair frowned, eyes soaked in concern. "Harry, are you sure-"

"I can look after myself," she smiled reassuringly, giving his shoulder a light squeeze before setting off to find the one Knight Harry genuinely had no reason to like but did have some begrudging respect for.

Fortunately, he was exactly where she hoped he would be. Dolohov was outside the room that had been designated for their Charms exam, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. Harry took a deep breath and sat down next to him.

"I don't need you here, Evans," Dolohov sneered when he noticed her presence.

"Perhaps not," Harry answered easily. "But I am the one person who understands why you reacted the way you did."

Dolohov didn't dare argue against that.

Harry started to fumble with her courting ring a little. "You know, I am sorry for my humming and singing and whistling. I should have known it could annoy someone-"

"Oh shut up, Evans," Dolohov sighed. He leant his head back onto the wall and closed his eyes as if praying. He sighed to himself as he sat up again. "My family was forced to flee Russia after the 1917 revolution."

"You don't need to tell me," Harry stated.

"Yes, I do. Because, as you said yourself, you're the only one who could understand," Dolohov sighed. "My family supported the Tsarist Regime, as we have done for centuries. Because of this my father, grandparents, uncles, aunts were targets for wizards who supported the damn Communists. My grandfather had wanted to stay behind in Russia to try and help the Tsar and his family but they had all survived one assassination attempt and my grandmother didn't want to risk another. We were granted asylum in England by the Minister of Magic. By the time Father had met and married Mother and had me, they were all citizens. But that mattered little for the British elite – because we are Russian, we must be Reds."

Dolohov spat at that word with vitriol.

Harry swallowed. Dolohov continued. "Father took to the vodka. He is not friendly on most days, but it is worse with alcohol. Losing our power and status … it hit him hard. He has been trying to regain a sliver of what our House has been used to for centuries, but it just isn't the same. Because of that, I am expected to further our family's aims and standing." He shook his head. "My father can ill afford an heir who is imperfect."

"Hate to break it to you, Captain Grumpy, but we are all imperfect," Harry pointed out light-heartedly.

Dolohov closed his eyes. "You don't understand, Evans. My father expects me to marry a girl of high rank and one who is pureblood. The issue is-"

"You aren't interested in girls," Harry finished with a lopsided grin.

For the first time in the conversation, Dolohov looked directly at the strange witch sitting next to him in disbelief. "You knew?"

Harry snorted. "I had suspicions but of course, I am not going to blab. I am not called Orion Black."

Dolohov actually laughed without restraint at that. "Fair enough! Just curious, how did you know?"

"There is one thing that gave it away – well, two," Harry decided to confess. "I noticed it almost immediately to be honest."

Dolohov looked at her disbelievingly and with a hint of fear. "What? What is it? How did you notice it?"

Harry grinned impishly. Dolohov sighed in frustration. "Evans, please! I am not Nott or Tom; I am not a patient guy. Just – tell me!"

"Fine," Harry smiled smally. "The first thing that I noticed was that you were horrible to Altair for almost no apparent reason. But then when it came to Arcturus, you were friendly, considerate, helpful and always had a good word to put in. It was so weird to witness and I originally thought that Tom had put you up to acting like that but when Altair once said you hung around like a bad smell since before Hogwarts, I knew there was more to it. You always make excuses to spend time to Arc, especially without Altair there. Every time he and Altair do their usual routine, you get jealous."

"I do not get jealous!" Dolohov was tomato red by now.

"Yes you absolutely do," Harry rolled. "You still make snide remarks to Altair even though you know he isn't interested in Arc! I mean, it's a little pathetic. Sorry to say it that bluntly, but it is."

Dolohov spluttered incoherently but eventually closed his eyes, sighed and nodded despondently. "Yeah … I guess it is. I've been jealous of Nott for a long time and that hasn't really changed all that much. He has a father who is disinterested in what he does and two people who actually like him back and are willing to take dents to their reputation for him. The first is something that will never happen in my case and the second, even less likely."

"Yeah well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't destroy what little self-confidence my future Consort has left," Harry replied icily. "Because I will do what I need to do to protect him. Even if it means taking you down a peg or two."

Dolohov chuckled mirthlessly. "I would expect you to. You're still more Gryffindor than Slytherin in my book, my Lady."

"I think in situations such as this, that is a compliment," Harry smirked.

"I wasn't trying to insult you to begin with," Dolohov smiled wryly.

"Oh, that's a first," the Lady Regnant stated snarkily.

Dolohov scoffed and then he grinned. "Yeah."

It was at that precise moment that the nervous chatter of the rest of the seventh years drifted down the corridor. Harry and Dolohov exchanged a resigned look before getting to their feet, Dolohov actually being decent enough to help her up.

Altair was by Harry's side in a flash. "Everything all right?" he asked, brows furrowed and voice dipped in concern.

"I wasn't going to hurt her, Nott," Dolohov stated in a tone that was almost too civil and sheepish.

"Has everything been resolved?" Tom wanted to know.

"For now," Harry smiled and then gave Dolohov a knowing look. "Exam stress needed a place to go."

"Everybody ready for pain?" the twins chorused loudly.

"YAAAAAAAY!" came the petulantly sarcastic cheers.

"Then we welcome you to the beginning of the Week of Pain. Please remember to keep your sanity intact and not sing near Dolohov in case he rips your head off. Come to the pain halls on time or your winter report card may result you in getting Howlers sent to you," the twins added, causing the seventh years to attempt not to laugh out loud as the doors to the exam hall opened and they stepped in to find their seats.

################################################

Meg, Ghost and Goliath experienced enough battles and missions to know when they were stepping into hostile territory but they had yet to experience the kind of danger and hostility that faced them in the form of the bookshop owner they had heard rumours about, his brother, their young cousin, three very stern portraits and a group of suspicious Cursebreakers led by the very intimidating Rollo Rowle. The three of them only knew the man by reputation but it seemed that rumours were not exaggerated.

King Ragnok wasn't exactly friendly, which they had expected, and the goblins who were present in the room, Griphook and Goldheart, looked like they were sizing them up for an axe on a chopping block.

The moment that the door to the meeting room closed behind them, they exchanged a slightly nervous glance before bowing and curtseying to the Goblin King.

"Your Grace, thank you for granting us an audience," Meg began, smiling smally.

"You've been poking your nose into business that left us with no choice but to grant you one," the King responded gruffly. He gestured to the rare book collector, the History professor and the strange young student and the portraits. "Meet the family of the Cursebreaker you wish to contact. Thomas and Henry Burke, guardians and House allies, along with their cousin Melanie Rollins and the portraits are Uncles and ancestors of the House that the Cursebreaker is Lady Regnant of. Given these uncertain times, we cannot allow anyone to simply demand to see our employee."

"And if we are not satisfied that you do not mean our Niece harm, a trip to St. Mungo's will be the least of your worries," the oldest brother of the portrait brothers threatened.

"We came here looking for answers, sir. There is no need for veiled threats," Ghost stated.

"What veil?" Melanie raised an eyebrow sassily, her eyes glowing ominously.

Ghost gulped. For some reason, he knew instinctively that there was just something not right about Melanie, or her cousins for that matter.

"Take a seat," the King ordered them and the three Hit Wizards complied almost immediately.

"So, let's start with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you any deity you please," Melanie started procedures. "Why have you come to the British Isles when the Resistance is still fighting a war?"

"Originally we were dispatched to find Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel," Goliath answered easily. "Our safe house in Antwerp was discovered and the Flamels were taken, just not by Grindelwald. Intelligence told us they were taken to England but after that, they disappeared almost without a trace."

"Go on," Henry Burke encouraged.

"We spent ages trying to find them until Meg got a vision that Grindelwald had awoken some sleeper agents to summon the Tracker of Souls into our world on Samhain's night to try and get the creature to find the Flamels for him," Goliath continued, causing the goblins and the Cursebreakers to look at each other in surprise.

The Burkes, Rollins and the portraits did not even flinch at that.

"We thought we were finally getting somewhere until we came to the Tower of London and found out that not only had someone had performed a Blood Rite to send the Tracker back, the Tower Guardians were very hostile to our presence and practically kicked us out of there, telling us the situation had been dealt with," Ghost continued, shaking his head. "One of the children threatened to throw the head of one of the queens at us if we didn't leave. Not long after that we discovered where Ambrose and Bradley were and what had happened to them. Now we know that the fiasco with the Tracker won't be the last trick up Grindelwald's sleeve because he's sending agents to the Malfoy Yule Ball on a reconnaissance mission."

"We appreciate the head's up. But, pray, why do you want to involve a young Lady Regnant, who is already facing enough trials in her young life, in what is clearly your problem?" Melanie demanded.

"The girl was responsible for freeing our brothers," Meg answered gently. "We need to know what kind of magic has taken hold of Ambrose and Bradley so we can heal them up for active duty again."

One of the portraits snorted. "Unbelievable! First unhappy clients and now whinging Hit Wizards who don't understand a single thing about the fickleness of the human psyche," the brother in the middle was unimpressed. "Let me tell you something about the magical effects of powerful curses, especially Dark ones, on the mind: they can twist the fabric of someone's being to the point where they do not recognise their own loved ones! Your comrades got off with a deep cut, but that cut is deep enough to leave a scar that will never leave. There is no curing them!"

"We have to try," Goliath insisted. "Ambrose is our eyes and ears on missions and Bradley is our most efficient tactician. Every successful kidnap we pulled off is because of Bradley."

"Our Niece is a seventeen-year-old orphaned girl who has been used enough times as a pawn for other people's games," the youngest brother snarled. "She is still processing the trauma that she has and we are thankful she has been given a relatively long reprieve from her last assignment. Plus, she may be talented but she's not omnipotent. She knows what was done to your friends, that is all!"

"We just want to hear her version of events," Ghost sighed. "We don't want to trouble anyone-"

"Then leave," Melanie stated bluntly.

"Not until we have some answers," Goliath responded.

"Well then you're in hard luck," Thomas Burke spoke up for the first time. "Because we will not allow you to ask our charge any questions until after her mock exams are finished and if you want to contact her, you will only be able to do it through myself or Griphook."

The three Hit Wizards did not look happy about this.

"That is a little excessive, sir!" Ghost glared at the book collector.

"Is it?" Henry Burke sneered. "Are you incapable of waiting a week?"

Rollo Rowle snorted.

"We do not have much time left!" Goliath tried to reason with them. "I implore you to see reason-"

"The decision stands," Thomas Burke stated. "I will not have her stressed unnecessarily. The health of the Lady Regnant comes before all else."

The men bristled but Meg nodded her head. "We understand, sir. We will keep to your terms."

"Meg!" Ghost couldn't believe his ears. "We don't have time to mollycoddle-"

"Lorcan!" Meg snapped. "Read the room. They have compromised; I don't need my powers to know that they were close to refusing us altogether. This deal is the best we're going to get."

"At least one of you has a brain," Melanie smirked.

Meg flushed.

Both Ghost and Goliath looked set to argue further but they knew that, whoever this Cursebreaker was, was an asset that Gringotts were willing to move the Heavens and the Underworld to protect – from Resistance members, clients and Alliance members alike. Her family too must have some kind of alliance with the goblins to allow the King to speak on Goblin Nation soil.

"Is that all?" the King asked, very eager to dismiss these interlopers.

"Yes. Thank you once again, Your Grace," Meg, ever the peacemaker, smiled. "You know where to find us."

As Goldheart's guards led the three Hit Wizards out of the room and out of the bank, Katerina scoffed. "Good riddance! Those three stunk of arrogant presumption."

"They clearly do not have children of their own," Miles agreed. "The welfare of a child is more important than anything, even in times of war."

"I suppose I should inform Her Ladyship of what has transpired," Griphook sighed as he jumped of his chair. "I still need to send her wages, after all. Might as well kill two wand-wielders with one catapult."

The Three Brothers blanched at the idiom and were rather worried that none of the Cursebreakers, nor the disguised deities even blinked at that phrase. No one so much as too offence to it. Apparently the Brothers had been in the vault for too long!

###############################################

Whoo-hoo the official Courting of our pairings has begun! Meg, Ghost, and Goliath are sticking their noses where it shouldn't go, but no surprises there. The Elder Wand is causing Grindelwald more grief and Queenie's suspicions have been confirmed! How will she handle it? Will the three Hit Wizards find a way to get answers? How will this affect the events of Yule? Stay tuned to find out!

Oh my gods this week has been busy and stressful! I am so sorry it is taking so long; I am currently working on the chapter on Yule and well, this one got kind of ignored a bit too long. I am really sorry about that.

Orion: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

Gellert: I did not miss this headache …

Queenie: Awww stop being such a sour puss! Let the boy have his fun!

Orion: THIS IS GOING TO BE EPIC!

Harry: Hopefully…

We will see you guys in the next chapter!

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