The Guile of the Traveller

by Kingmaker'sUmbreon

After being hit by the Killing Curse, Harry finds herself in a limbo that looks a lot like Kings Cross station. Deciding that the remnant of Voldemort's soul does deserve a chance at redemption, Harry finds herself in London, 1944. However, Harry soon makes a name for herself, and discovers that adventure and drama followed her everywhere, including into the past.

45. Chapter 45

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

The morning of the 23rd of December was already a busy one for Lady Praxilla Malfoy and her two children. The ball was the following day, but that mattered little to the Malfoys. Preparation was everything. Even through breakfast, they were making the final preparations to the catering, the decorating of the ballroom and that the elves and humans working as waiters and front door security all had the proper uniforms. The protection wards on important antiques and portraits were also triple checked.

Lady Malfoy, accompanied by Loreley and Abraxas, was going through her extensive checklist while trying to avoid the bustling decorators and servants.

"The Blacks will arrive as a clan … so will the Averys, Mulcibers, Dolohovs, Weasleys … Potters without Artemis … the Lady Hera's family … Have we already sent a letter to the Lady Hera, Mr. Riddle and Heir Nott that they are permitted to arrive together if they wish?" Lady Malfoy did not lift her eyes away from her parchment as she spoke.

"Not yet. We should probably do that soon," Loreley responded immediately. "For if Heir Nott arrives with his parents, events will reach a perilous crossroads."

Her mother nodded along as she listened. "Then we must ensure that it does not come to that. OK, we have the holly boughs … yes, in good order … the dais and thrones … very good … what's the status with the missing honey wine?"

"No update yet, Mother," Abraxas, who was practically glued to the two-way mirror that they had been using to communicate with their caterers, answered worriedly.

Loreley sighed. "The caterers really need to do something about their house ghouls. They really are starting to become a pest."

Lady Malfoy and Abraxas exchanged a look before Abraxas decided to call the caterers to ask if they had house ghouls, and if so, to check their lair for the honey wine.

Lady Malfoy then turned to her daughter. "Are our belongings sufficiently protected this time, dove?"

The girl smiled serenely. "I think our suits of armour may need one or two more, Mother, but other than that, I would say so."

"Good," Lady Malfoy breathed a sigh of relief. "Has anything changed in the status of our musicians."

"Not yet but if anything does, there will be three other musicians who could assist us in our little dilemma," Loreley responded whimsically, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Though I hope for the sake of your nerves, Mother, that our musicians' lead harpsicord player gets over her cold soon."

"I really do despise the cryptic veil you have to adopt sometimes," Lady Malfoy sighed.

"You are not much better, Mother," Abraxas commented as he got off the call with the caterers. "And Lorri was right again: the ghouls in their company had taken the honey wine. They will be shipped this afternoon."

"Splendid! Now, security-"

"There will be a raven arriving in one minute to address that matter," Loreley informed with a smile.

Lady Malfoy and Abraxas both looked quite nervous at this point, which only increased when indeed a minute later, a handsome corvid with a Peverell medallion flew into the room through one of the grand windows leading to the garden – servants and decorators dodging out of the way – and landed on the arm Loreley had already extended in anticipation.

The raven held out its leg to Lady Malfoy, who gave a nod in thanks as she untied the letter. The bird took off almost immediately as she broke the silver seal on the back and unfolded the letter.

Dear Lady Malfoy,

This is probably the last thing you want a day before the Malfoy Yule Ball; you no doubt have a lot to attend to and preparations to make, but I want to address some concerns the Lady Hera has been having about security. She has apparently heard some tales of Balls in the past and just wants some clarification.

One of her major concerns is if there will be a thorough check for wands and second wands on all the guests. Apparently, most of the tales that have her concerned is the number of fights and petty squabbles have broken out over the years, and she wishes to know if you have taken extra measures to make sure it doesn't happen again.

The Lady Hera is aware she is new to these functions and the pureblood culture of Great Britain but is a little anxious to ensure she comes out of her first Yule Ball hosted by your House out of the other end with her arms and legs still attached to her body. Forgive the turn of expression; I couldn't stop Melanie from adding it.

Yours sincerely,

Mr. T. Burke

Lady Malfoy smiled to herself. "I should have Seen this coming," she muttered to herself in amusement.

"What is it, Mother?" Abraxas asked, trying to keep the anxiety he felt out of his tone.

"It seems the Lady Hera has some security concerns," the Sighted Consort of Lord Malfoy answered, giggling slightly as she spoke. "Specifically, regarding checks on wands."

"Wands and second wands," Loreley added, not surprising her mother and brother that she already seemed to know what her friend was worried about.

"Of course you knew," Abraxas huffed. He frowned and then his eyes widened and he lowered his voice. "She thinks those disguised Grindelwald agents might have two wands on them, doesn't she?"

Loreley hummed in affirmation.

"Well, that is very good to know," Lady Malfoy mused as a serious expression took over her countenance. "Do our mutual friends who like determining people's fates wish for us to intervene?"

"No," Loreley answered firmly. "Write back to Mr. Burke. Let the course run."

"Lorri," Abraxas shook his head.

Loreley fixed him with a hardened look. "The paths are meant to cross – all of our futures depend on the outcome of the collision. To interfere will put House Peverell, House Malfoy and every other House in danger!"

"I will write the letter, but first the status of the garden decorations-"

"They will be arriving late in the afternoon due to past issues of material production and they may need to be enchanted with some Anti-Withering Charms because there will be a blizzard tonight," Loreley stated, rattling off the Moirai Fate Report.

Lady Malfoy sighed happily. "Oh how glad I am one of my twins got our ancestor's gift of Foresight! Thank you, darling."

As their mother left to answer Mr. Burke's letter, Abraxas turned to his sister with an ominous look. "You had better be right about this, Lorri. Because I would hate to see Tom Riddle become Lord Voldemort because of the death of one of his future Consorts!"

Loreley was unphased. "She is the Mistress of Death. She cannot die unless she wants to, or has an Heir willing to take over the role."

"That is no guarantee!" Abraxas hissed as they went outside and took a turn about the garden. "You might take this lightly, but I do not. You keep saying that Hera is the key to ensuring our Houses have a future and yet, you want us to sit back and do nothing when there is a threat coming near her!"

"The threat will be dealt with," Loreley promised. She then smirked. "As for you, brother, I would advise you to heed Harry's words very carefully tomorrow night and avoid Father today at all costs. Tomorrow too, if you are able."

Abraxas blanched. "Oh no – not another potential match!"

"Indeed," Loreley sighed. "But if it's any consolation, Harry will come up with a very elegant solution. One that Father might actually agree to."

Abraxas did not know if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

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

"So, Harry is the Mistress of Death. How do you know?"

Tom had escaped to his room after breakfast that morning to call Altair because there was still one unresolved topic between them, and that was the revelation that Harry was apparently a being spoken of in a fairy tale. Altair apparently had the mirror glued to his side because he had picked up almost immediately after Tom called.

"Well," Tom swallowed nervously. "It was just putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. It was Loreley who … accidentally tripped me into it. The Peverells hiding, James Peverell taking his wife's name – not the other way around – Harry having both Potter and Peverell blood … the weirdness around her. The fact she survived the Killing Curse with that scar-"

"Marked by Death," Altair whispered. "The Three Brothers, by outwitting Death, became Marked by him because Death cannot handle being beaten by mortals."

Tom's eyes widened. "You think it is the same with Harry? That she's Marked?"

"I am willing to bet on it," Altair sighed. "It would explain why she has a serious amount of dumb luck and doesn't seem to be affected by magic that would have normally been the end of any other witch or wizard."

Tom nodded in agreement. "Indeed."

"Now that I think about it, it would explain why Harry would risk everything to get the Flamels out of Antwerp and save them from the Tracker," Altair continued. "It even explains why she is able to use Soul Fire while only being seventeen-eighteen years old! Why she sometimes speaks like she is from a different time."

Tom frowned at that. "What?"

"Haven't you noticed?" Altair smiled. "She has these strange turn of expressions that just don't make any sense. She knows about creatures of the past no one else seems to know. Harry acts and dresses less like a lady and more like a guy unapologetically. It's just her whole demeanour – she's like she is out of time. Beyond it, even."

Tom considered for a moment and felt a smile form on his face. "You may be onto something there."

Altair continued. "It's just a funny feeling. I am betting all Masters and Mistresses of Death have had something funny about them. I mean, it seems that none of the Peverells could be considered normal! They were spies, wand makers, musicians, Necromancers, alchemists, diplomats – I can't claim many of my ancestors being as interesting as Harry's."

"Nor I, though I may be tempted to ask Evren's portrait for some stories about her cousin, Tezan Gaunt," Tom smiled to himself. "It seems like there was some kind of rivalry between those two and I want to see if my hunch is correct."

"Before doing that, I think we should talk to Harry about the thing she refused to talk about yesterday," Altair insisted. "I don't like the idea of something going down and the possibility of us not being to do anything about it, simply because she was too stubborn to tell us."

"I think so too, my dear," Tom smiled.

Altair then switched the subject. "Speaking of hellish situations, are you sure I am not allowed to get a sneaky peak at your costume for the Yule Ball?"

Tom smirked impishly. "I had wanted to keep it a surprise but I may if I can see your costume in return?"

Altair flushed at that. "I think I look ridiculous in it. I would rather not embarrass myself prematurely."

"I very much doubt you look ridiculous," Tom smiled as charmingly as he could manage.

Altair groaned to himself, hanging his head to hide his further embarrassment. At hearing that sound, Tom shoved the errant thoughts about the Nott heir that were more and more difficult to control back behind their Occlumency shields. Altair huffed and looked up again. "You know what, why don't you show me Athenaïs' costume instead?"

Tom chuckled. "Absolutely. Frey, do you want to come too?"

*Oooo yes please! Atty refuses to show me.*

Athenaïs was most obliged to show off her costume to Altair and even to Frey – the Gargouille had worried that her friend would laugh at her. Tom preferred to keep a distance and help Melanie and Perrie in the kitchen while watching Athenaïs, Frey and Altair joke, play and then dance to the music on the radio, though it was difficult to see the boy dancing through the mirror.

Altair and Tom both stopped what they were doing when they saw Mr. Burke leave his rooms and headed for the Peverell study with a letter in hand and a concerned expression. The two boys then shared a quick look of agreement: they would need to talk to Harry, and soon. They needed answers sooner rather than later.

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

Like Tom, the moment breakfast was over, Harry had escaped up to her study to finish the rest of the non-combative Yule gifts for her friends and family. The presents for Walburga, Druella, Ophelia, Artemis, Loreley, Ygraine and Orion were already finished. The gifts for the deities and the Flamels too. She was putting the finishing touches on the miniature portrait of Tom, which was the third present she had made for Altair, when there was a tapping at her window.

The Lady Regnant leapt up almost immediately when she saw the Gringotts medallion around the owl's neck. The owl hooted gratefully at the speed at which the witch came to the window and Harry allowed the bird to come in and warm up a bit before taking off again. She turned her attention onto the letter, breaking the seal eagerly.

Dear Lady Peverell,

I hope this letter finds you well. Considering you are responsible for bringing the possibility of a fake Blood Curse with regards to Nymera Lestrange's illness to our attention, it is only right that you be informed of developments.

This morning we have received a letter from Lord and Lady Lestrange, confirming that they will allow Rava and our Healers to test their daughter for an enchantment that simulates the effects of a Blood Curse. The test is set to take place this afternoon; you will be contacted should your theory prove correct. If not, Lord and Lady Lestrange wish to express their gratitude for your diligence and concern for their family.

May your enemies always fall at your feet,

Rosberg,
Account of the Lestrange Family Vaults

Harry exhaled sharply as she put the letter aside. So, Lord and Lady Lestrange had come around. It really did seem they had nothing left to lose.

"Good news, Niece?" Ignotus asked in a whisper so as not to wake Cadmus and Antioch from their naps.

"I am not entirely sure yet," Harry admitted.

As she mulled over what Rosberg had written to her, the Lady Regnant went back to work on finishing the miniature of Altair for Tom this time. Just when she did, there was a knock on the door.

"Harry? Are you busy?"

"Just a minute, Tosti!" Harry called back as she put down her paint brush, the miniature and cast an Disillusionment Charm on the presents and got to her feet. "Come in."

Thanatos opened the door and stepped into the room, then shutting it firmly. Harry leant against her desk, regarding him with an assessing look. "So, what does Lady Malfoy have to say?" she wanted to know.

The God of Death smiled smally. "Well, good news is that you and your suitors are permitted to show up together. She apologises in hindsight for not taking your Sacrum Vinculum into account. As to the matter you wanted me to write to her about, Lady Malfoy says that there are wand and cloak checkers at every Floo entrance and exit, and that there will be people subtly checking for second wands and other weapons, and that any and all wands and potential weapons will be handed to the guards and given back at the end of the event."

Harry nodded and then frowned. "Other weapons?" she repeated.

"Indeed," Thanatos did not look too happy about this. "Which means, bringing your scythe, rapier or daggers is out of the question."

"Bugger," Harry commented, pinching the bridge of her nose. She sighed. "That means the only thing I can take with me, in theory, is my lantern and perhaps Evren's violin."

"Yes," Thanatos confirmed but he smiled reassuringly at her. "It is a good thing that nonverbal and wandless magic is not an issue for you."

"True," Harry scoffed. "But I like having people underestimate me. A wand makes me a lot less threatening – unless one knows some of my little tricks, that is."

"Quite," Thanatos smiled.

"Well," the Mistress of Death grinned to herself, "I guess I will just adapt to circumstances!"

The God of Death chuckled and then looked at his surrogate mortal daughter. "I am glad that your spontaneous visit to the Tower Guardians went so well, considering that Tom and Altair do not know who you really are."

"Me too. The Ghosts all were very careful about mentioning you, Melinoë or even how we came to be acquainted in the first place," Harry scoffed to herself. "There was just … something that took me by surprise and that I still can't shake."

Thanatos frowned. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Tom and Altair took to Edward and Richard like it was nothing and even managed to settle Lady Jane twice – once when she tried to scold the Princes again and the second when she almost started another verbal joust with Queen Catherine." She laughed. "It was like they were used to it."

"They could have been doing that for your sake," Thanatos pointed out. "It could just have been a case of acclimatising quickly to make sure they don't insult you or them."

"No," Harry disagreed firmly. "No. There is more to this. I just have a funny feeling."

"Well then," the God of Death grinned impishly. "I say talk to them."

Almost on cue, there was a careful but firm knock at the door. Harry gave Thanatos a pointed look; the God of Death tried to look as angelic as possible but was failing miserably.

"Harry, are you busy? I have Altair on the mirror call with me. May we come in?" Tom called through the door.

The Mistress of Death mock-scowled at her divine friend. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

"Don't forget to put Silencing Charms and privacy wards on the door," was Tosti's answer as he turned around and opened the door.

Tom sprang back a bit, looking a little guilty; Altair in the mirror physically grimaced a bit. "Oh. Sorry. I can come back," Tom sounded a little sheepish, which almost made Harry laugh at the absurdity of it.

"Nonsense. Harry and I just finished our business," Thanatos replied brightly as he gestured to the open door as he walked out with a grin. "She's all yours, gentlemen."

Tom gave a quick smile of thanks before he came into the room, unaware that Harry quickly fortified the Disillusionment Charm on the pile of presents that were scattered about the study, and closed the door behind him. He turned to look at his future Consort, who was desperately trying to maintain a neutral expression and not subtly look to her right.

Harry quickly turned her attention on the mirror in his hand to aid in her deception. "Morning, Altair! Hiding from your father again?"

"Not this time. He left for London the moment that the seamstresses stated that our costumes were perfect," Altair informed, sounding angrier at this fact than he did at the fact he was forced to keep out of his father's way. "The worst part is she and her sister will be at the bloody Malfoy Ball so at some point I know I am going to be forced to share space with her! I already feel like upchucking just at the thought."

"Wait, the Underwoods are invited to the Malfoy Ball?" Harry could hardly believe her ears. "Despite the fact that there are still unconfirmed and circulating rumours surrounding Anne Underwood and possible illegitimate children?"

"What?!" Altair squeaked.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "The girls were giving me a political run down on girls' night and that was when they mentioned something about Anne being a recluse and having a child out of wedlock whose father is unknown."

Altair promptly began cussing.

"Rumours or not, they are still a high ranking House and Diantha Underwood's latest role has practically ensured their invitation this year," Tom informed her once Altair had calmed down a little, looking very grim. "For an invitation to not be sent to them would be a scandal before the Ball has even begun! It is not the kind of publicity that the Malfoys want."

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "No," she agreed reluctantly as she lifted her head. "Plus, they do not know. Or at least, even if they suspect, they have no evidence since it is clear Lord Nott has been covering his tracks very well, it seems."

Or perhaps, he thinks he has, her Slytherin voice piped up. Someone had to be there for the birth of those children. Midwives and Healers; we all know Lady Nott found out somehow. The rest must be paid to stay quiet.

"Speaking of the Yule Ball," Altair spoke up, knocking Harry back down to Earth. "Tom and I wanted to talk to you about something that has been concerning us."

Harry frowned. "What is it?"

Tom and Altair exchanged a brief look before Tom regarded her seriously. "We want to know what is going on. You are up to something, and don't even think about lying to us – we know your tells by now, and it has to do with the Ball tomorrow."

Harry's eyes darkened slightly. "It is not something you need to concern yourselves with."

"Oh, we disagree!" Altair responded firmly. He took a deep breath. "Look, we know our place. We know that as future Consorts or even if and when we marry and become official Consorts, we will have no influence in the business of House Peverell. We will only be able to give advice. But we get the feeling that this goes beyond simply Peverell business and concerns your safety! That is our biggest worry right now, and we want to know if you are in any kind of danger."

Harry scoffed lightly. "I have been in danger since I was born. It's nothing new. Besides," she looked at them determinedly, "my greatest concern is making sure that you two, and the others, are kept out of this. I will not risk you for nothing!"

"Your life is not nothing to us!" Tom shot back, his burgundy eyes half glowing red. "Grindelwald can throw as many Dementors as he wants at Malfoy Manor tomorrow. It will not stop us from protecting you!"

Harry laughed shortly. "He isn't sending Dementors tomorrow."

"Then what is he sending?" Altair demanded.

The Lady Regnant was still stubbornly refusing to divulge information, a look of defiance in those verdant eyes and her arms folded. Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus had been listening in silence, not wanting to alert their Niece and her future Consorts as they studied their interactions a little more closely. The Brothers didn't know precisely when to intervene until they saw that Harry had no intention of telling Tom and Altair anything no matter how hard they pleaded with her.

"Niece," Antioch spoke up with a tone of authority, drawing eyes to him immediately, "tell them."

Harry scoffed and shook her head. "How, Uncle?" she demanded as she walked towards him. "How do I tell them? How can I when it would mean divulging-"

"We know!" Altair blurted out. "Harry, please! We already know!"

Harry swivelled around and the portraits frowned. "Know what?" she demanded in a shocked whisper, already dreading the answer.

Tom and Altair swallowed.

"You're the Mistress of Death," was the response from Tom that stumped the Three Brothers and was the reason Harry's already pale skin lost even more of its colour and her heart skipped several beats.

The Mistress of Death began shaking. "How … how did you …" Harry mentally kicked herself for short-circuiting and thus sounding so breathless and weak.

"It just adds up," Altair replied softly. "Your father took your mother's maiden name to hide. You are related to the Peverells twice over; you were hidden your entire life. You survived the Killing Curse – you were thus Marked by Death. You appear and disappear without anyone noticing; you risked life and limb to get the Flamels out of Antwerp. You're able to use Soul Fire, for Merlin's sake, and your buddy-buddy with the Tower Guardians!"

The Nott heir laughed in disbelief at this before continuing. "Plus you left us that clue, and well, Heron commented that you know where the Hallows are, which Grindelwald apparently wants. He would want them to become Master of Death. But it would mean challenging to current Mistress of Death … you."

Harry blinked at them, scoffed three times under her breath before spluttering with laughter. Her uncles and lovers were momentarily worried that she might have been experiencing a full mental breakdown if she didn't recover quickly, which Harry did. "I knew I was being a bit too obvious with that clue," was all she commented. "I guess the cat is truly out of the bag."

"Not really. Only Altair and I figured it out. And Loreley Malfoy," Tom replied, giving her a small smile.

The Lady Regnant regarded him curiously. "How long have you known?"

"Less than a month, give or take," Tom answered candidly. "I only told Altair until quite recently."

Verdant eyes looked at him with a sadness swimming within.

"And you … don't fear or hate me?" Harry knew it was stupid to ask but given Tom's Boggart, she could not help herself.

Tom looked for a moment like he had been slapped in the face. "Do you even feel the need to ask that? Harry … I could never fear or hate you! Never!" He stepped towards her, burgundy eyes swimming with hurt and determination. "It took me by surprise when I figured it out but I think that I might have suspected for a long time that you had giant secret that you needed to keep hidden. I don't care about that; I care that you are in possible danger."

"Agreed," Altair stated simply. "Mistress of Death or not, you are our Harry and no one messes with our Harry."

Harry laughed at that, sniffing as she fought back the tears of relief.

"I think it is safe to say that you can tell them, Harry," Ignotus commented lightly.

The Lady Regnant chuckled softly to herself. "So it seems," she stated before gathering all the courage she had. "It's true what Heron says: I know where the Hallows are. Grindelwald as has the Elder Wand, the wand created by Uncle Antioch. However, I have been informed by allies of mine that the Wand is rebelling against him. As it turns out, it is tired of serving him and, well, wants to come and work with me." Harry sighed. "Grindelwald isn't happy about this, of course, and is trying to maintain control over it by trying to find the other two Hallows as quickly as possible."

"Which means, finding you as quickly as possible," Tom stated.

Harry nodded. "Not that he has figured that out yet. But in an effort to find the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak, Grindelwald has opted to send two of his best Generals to England and infiltrate the Malfoy Ball in hopes of something slipping."

"Which two?" Altair wanted to know immediately.

"Queenie Goldstein, the Natural Legilimens, and Vida Rosier, Arcturus and Druella's cousin," Harry answered easily.

"Oh shit," Altair muttered. He then realised something. "You don't think it was Goldstein who was responsible for the attack on your Occlumency shields yesterday, do you?"

"Yes, in fact I do," Harry sighed. "Because it stands to reason whoever these two are disguising themselves as is subscribed to The Court of Britain and thus would have seen the piece on Lucretia Black's Presentation. Ergo, they would be able to recognise me from the photos almost instantly."

"Bloody Blacks," Tom pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "They should have had the foresight to keep you out of it!"

"I doubt that Lady Black even considered the ramifications of what she had done, and yes I am pretty sure it was Orion's mother who was behind this," Harry sat down on the nearest windowsill.

"Still, it was stupidly reckless and Orion, Walburga or Druella should have told her that!" Altair exclaimed.

"Yes, but I think they could have told her that it was too dangerous until they were blue in face and it wouldn't have mattered all too much," Harry sighed with a short laugh. "If it's one thing I have learned by seeing the Blacks up close is that talking endlessly and a cast iron stubbornness appears to be genetic!"

Tom laughed at that but Altair frowned in confusion at that, but decided not to ask why it was so funny. Instead, Altair turned the conversation onto the other Hallows. "So where are the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak?"

Harry smirked. "The Potters possess the Invisibility Cloak given to Ignotus; I have an Invisibility Cloak myself but that's beside the point."

"Beside the point?" Altair repeated incredulously. "You're telling us there is more than one Cloak and you think it is beside the point?!"

"What, do you think Tosti only has one Cloak? Please!" Cadmus scoffed. "If that was the case humans would be freaking out left, right and centre because they could see the Reapers coming for their souls!"

"Yeah, OK," Altair concurred weakly. "I see your point, sir."

Tom frowned and then realisation hit him once more. "That's how you have been sneaking around with no one seeing you! You have an Invisibility Cloak, which means – that's how you snuck into our dorms without anyone noticing you!"

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus looked at Harry with scandalised expressions.

Harry flushed. "Before you three start throwing accusations around, Uncles, I snuck into their rooms to prank them!"

"Yes, and very effective ones they were too, Miss I Replace Textbooks with Muggle Romance Novels," Tom mock-scowled at her, causing Cadmus and Ignotus to splutter with laughter and lean on their frames for support. Tom then looked at Harry curiously. "So, the Elder Wand is in less than desirable hands and the Invisibility Cloak has two homes. Where is the Resurrection Stone?"

The Lady Regnant could barely contain her glee as she got up and approached him with a lopsided smirk. Wordlessly, she took his right hand in hers and she pointed towards his ring with a bright smile. Tom and Altair both looked set to faint at this point.

"The Resurrection Stone is set into Tom's ring?! How?!" Altair was almost losing it. Harry hoped he had put Silencing Charms on his door or there would be a lot of awkward explaining to do to Lady Nott and her household.

The Slytherin voice in Harry's head voted to Obliviate them but Harry's Gryffindor voice vetoed that option immediately.

"The Stone was passed down from one generation of Cadmus' line to the other, remember?" Harry grinned. "The Gaunts are his direct descendants, and if you remember, Aunt Evren recognised that ring immediately. You didn't ask yourself why that was, Tom? Come on, my darlings, it should have been obvious what that stone is."

Tom caressed the ring with his thumb in stunned silence. He seemed to be battling with some kind of inner turmoil that Harry didn't even want to begin guessing at, knowing that the ring was currently a Horcrux. She was about to ask what the matter was, because the silence was getting a little eerie, until Tom did something that completely stumped her.

He took off the Gaunt ring set with the Resurrection Stone and put it into her hand, causing Harry's mouth to hit the floor.

Altair could not believe what he was seeing through the mirror. "Tom, what are you doing? That is your House Ring!" he exclaimed as Harry gathered her mouth from the floor.

"Harry is the Lady Regnant of House Peverell. That Stone is hers by right," Tom stated firmly.

"Tom, no! This is the Gaunt Ring. You will need it if you want to prove to the goblins you are Lord Gaunt," Harry added, knocking herself out of her shock and trying to hand the ring back to her future Consort, who was refusing to oblige.

"I have no vaults, Harry. The Gaunt fortune disappeared a long time ago," Tom responded sadly. "The goblins will not allow me to open any accounts as Lord Gaunt without significant wealth and significant backing to my claim to the title."

Harry smirked. "I think you know as well as I that can be arranged, especially since our courtship. All you would need to do is take an inheritance test and show them the money I gave you. It shows you have something worth investing at the moment."

Tom did not look convinced and tried to look away from her, but Harry stopped him. "We will get the Gaunt fortune back. One way or the other; I promise you. Besides," she grinned, "I have a feeling they may already be waiting for you to write to them on the matter."

There was a ten second moment of silence.

"I know the weight the Peverell name has with Gringotts, but I don't want to use the power of your name," Tom admitted.

"In this case, I more than encourage it," Harry stated firmly. "The Gaunt name is rightfully yours; you have Cadmus' blood flowing through your veins. Plus, it will be an awesome screw-you to anyone who still sees you as a respectable interloper! More importantly, you are my future Consort and I am choosing to trust you with the Resurrection Stone."

Tom was speechless as he finally allowed Harry to put the ring back onto his right hand. Altair chuckled. "Yeah, you can't argue with that one, Tom."

As she saw those burgundy eyes well up, the Lady Regnant threw caution to the wind and captured Tom's lips in a warm, loving and reassuring kiss, which was returned in seconds. She entangled her fingers into his curls; Tom gently pulled her closer in an embrace. Antioch's not so subtle throat clearing made sure that the kiss did not last too long, for which he earned something being thrown at him by Ignotus, but Tom was at least smiling, which is what Harry had aimed for.

Tom hugged her close, not yet ready to fully let her go, his breath shuddering quietly. "I don't deserve you," he whispered.

"Yes, you do, Sappy," Harry answered firmly.

Altair then started laughing. "My sun and moon, as much as I love getting up close and personal with the two of you, I currently am looking into Harry's back and it's rather dark."

"Oh, sorry!" Tom laughed as he and Harry parted.

Harry then lit up and an impish look plastered itself onto her countenance. "Would the two of you like to meet Thanatos, or Death as you know him as?"

Tom and Altair suddenly paled.

"Erm … maybe another time?" Tom didn't feel brave enough to come face to face with the being he most feared just yet.

The Brothers snorted at that.

"It seems Tosti will have to hide a little while longer," Cadmus chuckled.

"Tosti?" Altair repeated, sounding like he was trying not to laugh.

"Our pet name for Thanatos," Harry answered fondly. "He absolutely hates it!"

"You have a pet name … for Death?" Tom chuckled in disbelief. "Are you Peverells even human at this point?"

"Last time we checked," Ignotus laughed. "We are just different."

"I agree with that statement, sir!" Altair commented.

"Hopefully this does not scare you all too much," Antioch grinned.

"Absolutely not, sir," Tom answered with a smirk.

"Life with a Peverell is never boring," Altair added jovially. "Especially when her name is Hera."

Harry rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering in her heart and stomach, and then remembered she still had some presents left to finish. "Hey, guys, I still have some business that I need to finish that are absolutely not to be seen by anyone with legs before Yule so – I must ask you politely to vacate my study."

"Ooooo they must be presents!" Altair squealed happily as Tom went towards the door, eyes shining with amusement.

"Yes, they most likely are," Tom agreed, chuckling. "I should warn you though that Nick, Perrie and Melanie are already preparing an extensive lunch so make sure to watch out for a Patronus coming for you."

Harry grinned. "Will do!"

She was happy to be distracted from the pesky pull of the Sacrum Vinculum, finishing the miniature of Altair and then moving onto the few unfinished presents she had thought of for Arcturus and the rest of Tom's Knights. Because Harry was so quickly distracted, she didn't see the growing concern in the faces of her Uncles.

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

Like all goblins, Griphook prided himself on being able to keep a very good handle on his emotions. However, as the arrival of the Lestrange family became more and more imminent, Griphook, and Rosberg as well, found themselves pacing up and down the hospital wing of Gringotts in undisguised trepidation and trying not to sweat with nerves. Even Rava and the three other goblin Healers were slightly on edge.

There could be only two outcomes of the test on young Nymera: either the Lestranges' prayers would finally be answered and they would know what was keeping their daughter and sister in such a permanently weakened state, or their prayers would continue to go unanswered and Nymera's health would likely continue to deteriorate.

A fake Blood Curse; Rosberg had originally been very sceptical of the idea until Katerina, who had inadvertently eavesdropped on the conversation between Griphook and Rosberg, had burst into the room in a full on tirade about how pesky, nasty and underhanded those Curses were. The worst ones were allegedly more virulent than a Power Wither Hex. It had been Katerina's babbling and erratic panic that had convinced Rosberg to take the possibility very seriously.

Lord and Lady Lestrange had decided very quickly that they had nothing left to lose, plus Heron had been instrumental in convincing his parents that Harry's theory was worth exploring. Artemis too had reassured that Harry had no ill will to the House of Lestrange and was genuinely trying to help.

As for young Nymera herself, she was nervous about seeing goblin Healers but she was very excited at the prospect of being allowed out of Lestrange Manor for the first time in what felt like forever. Nymera hated that she was too ill to attend Hogwarts and hoped that the goblins could help assure that she could perhaps attend the following year.

If Merlin, Morgana and all the fairies of Avalon wanted her to.

Heron was practically bouncing in one spot due to his anxiety as his mother and father wrapped Nymera in two extra blankets and covered her head with a woolly hat, before preparing to open the Floo Network to Gringotts. Artemis, whose attendance was insisted upon by Nymera, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Would you like me to get you a Calming Draught?" she asked gently.

"I doubt it would help in this case," Heron admitted with a sharp exhale.

"Maybe take some deep breaths then," Artemis smiled smally. "We don't need the goblins to resuscitate you while they are busy worrying about Nymera."

Heron laughed shortly and nodded in agreement before closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths while counting to ten. He then placed his right over her hand and gave it a squeeze in an attempt to reassure himself.

"I am glad Father and Mother agreed you could come," he whispered. "I think I might have run mad otherwise."

Artemis grinned. "Heron Lestrange, running mad? Now that would be a sight to remember!"

Heron scoffed. "Of course you would find that amusing, you little harpy!"

"Well, you are composed ninety-nine per cent of the time," Artemis pointed out. "Running mad in the garden would make you a bit more human."

"I never specified the garden."

"No, I just did that for you."

Heron chuckled as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly, causing Artemis to flush.

"Artemis, Heron, look! I look like a mummy!" Nymera called to them, knocking the young couple out of their bubble and immediately pulled the two of them to her side.

Artemis could not resist cooing at how adorable Nymera looked in her blankets, hat and scarf, being carried by Lord Lestrange. "You are the cutest mummy I have ever seen, plus the more fashionable! None of that silly bandage nonsense," the Potter heiress tried to sound as serious as possible, which made the young Lestrange heiress giggle. "Do you have Little Lacey with you?"

"Yep!" Nymera triumphantly made the little stuffed dragon made of a fluffy material and lace peak out from the blankets.

"I think that means we are ready," Lady Lestrange stated with a small smile.

Nymera's eyes shone. "This is so exciting!" she squealed as her father carefully took some Floo Powder and ducked carefully as he stepped into their entrance fireplace.

"Gringotts Bank!" Lord Lestrange stated clearly as he flung the Powder down.

"Whooohooo!" Nymera cheered as the flames leapt up.

Heron, Artemis and Lady Lestrange could not help but laugh as they one by one followed suit. The family stepped out into the office of Rava, the Head Healer, welcomed immediately by the Head Healer, Rosberg and Griphook.

Rava bowed to them. "House Lestrange, thank you for trusting Gringotts in this matter. I am Rava and I will be conducting the test on Mistress Nymera today. As per your request, Rosberg will be here to make sure no one asks any awkward questions about the authenticity of our excuse as well as Accountant Griphook on behalf of the Lady Hera."

"Hello," Nymera waved weakly at the goblins, causing them to give the young wand-wielder a rare smile.

Lord Lestrange even gave them a curt nod of the head in acknowledgement.

"Let us not waste any time," Rava stated and gestured towards the medical bed that had been prepared. "Place Mistress Nymera on the bed over there, please."

Lord Lestrange wasn't used to following orders from goblins but he did so without so much as wincing at how his fellow purebloods would have called him an amoeba for doing so. As soon as Nymera was on the bed, Rava's Healers began to carefully unwrap the blankets from around the sickly child who frankly looked like death warmed up and carefully attached some suckers with runes and sigils engraved in them to her arms, legs and head before wrapping the girl back up again, including Little Lacey.

Credit where credit was due, Nymera simply watched the goblins work and didn't ask any questions, staying very quiet as she studied them. Lord and Lady Lestrange, with the latter holding onto her husband's arm almost for dear life, bit their lips nervously as they watched them too. Heron and Artemis were not much better.

Rosberg, though, regarded the Potter heiress coolly.

"You are not a Lestrange," he stated bluntly. "You will need to wait outside until the test is finished."

Artemis smiled weakly. "Very well."

Before she could even begin to move, Heron glared at his Family Accountant. "She stays, Rosberg."

"Sir, I am aware the two of you are courting, but our regulations are clear," Rosberg responded calmly.

Lord Lestrange intervened at this point. "Rosberg, my daughter requested her presence during the test."

"Artemis, can you look after Little Lacey for a bit? She's scared!" Nymera's request solidified the point.

Rosberg did not look too happy as Artemis Potter approached the young Lestrange and carefully took the stuffed dragon into her arms and petted the toy's head. Griphook regarded his fellow goblin with a small smirk. "I think we can let it slide this once, can we not, my friend?"

Rosberg huffed. "I suppose so," he growled reluctantly.

Rava stepped up to the young girl's bedside onto a high chair to make sure the goblin could make eye contact with her. "All right, Mistress Nymera, we will soon begin the spell. The spell will trigger the runes and the sigils and the magic within will 'read' you, your magic levels, your heart rate, et cetera. It will tickle a bit and might feel a little bit uncomfortable at some point. Try not to move too much, OK?"

"OK," Nymera affirmed quietly.

"Have you got any questions before we begin?"

"How is goblin magic different to our magic and how will it help?" Nymera asked candidly.

Rava blinked a few times but smiled gently. "Our magic works a little differently to human magic in its behaviour. We have a few spells in our repertoire that are a little more far reaching than the ones humans use. Dark magic, some Light families might call it but we usually ignore Light families anyway in their prejudices to our practices."

The young girl looked a little sombre. "This won't heal me, though, will it?"

Rava's eyes went soggy with sympathy. "This is only a test, I'm afraid. To see what is the matter with you."

Nymera shuffled a bit. "Will it hurt?"

"No, it shouldn't hurt," Rava reassured. "There might be an uncomfortable pricking sensation when it comes to reading your blood. Any other questions?"

"Do I need to be put under a Sleeping Charm?"

"No, dear, there is no need for that."

"OK, then I guess I am ready," Nymera stated.

Rava nodded and gave the child a bright smile, careful to make sure that the girl didn't see any of her pointed teeth. The Head Healer jumped down and together with the other Healers made a semi-circle around the girl's bed. The Healers began to chant in their native language, sounding like shamans trying to summon spirits or open a gateway into the spirit world, the runes and sigils glowing almost immediately in response.

The diagnostic spell first ran an orange light over Nymera's body, then a blue one, then a red one and then a yellow one. With each scan, Nymera made an effort not to even breathe too much just in case it could ruin the test. The Lestranges and Artemis watched in anticipation, hoping that any one of these scans found something they could work with. Artemis clutched onto Little Lacey for dear life. Rava was standing in front of a weird device that the wizards didn't recognise, keeping an eye on something.

The test lasted only ten to fifteen minutes but for everyone in the room it seemed to go on forever. Finally, when the yellow light faded, the Healers began systematically taking the suckers off Nymera's skin and then began checking her vitals and shining a light into her eyes while Rava continued to watch the strange machine print something.

Rosberg and Griphook exchanged a nervous look. Finally, the machine stopped printing and Rava took out several sheets of parchment and put on a pair of reading spectacles. As the Head Healer continued to read whatever was on it, those spectacles eventually fell off the goblin's pointed nose, somehow, in shock.

"Rava, what is it?" Rosberg demanded.

Unfortunately it seemed Rava had lost the ability to speak coherently in either English or Goblin because what came out of the goblin's mouth was, "iiiaaaa begogogo whaaawhhaaaa?!"

"Am I going to die?" Nymera asked rather too bluntly for the taste of many.

Rosberg huffed in annoyance and went over to see what had drained the life out of Rava's face and switched off the language button in her head. Rosberg went through the test results and suddenly too began to pale the more and more he read. Unlike Rava, the Accountant of the Lestrange Vaults managed to mechanically move himself to the Lestranges and wordlessly handed the report to them in a gorgonised state.

Lord Lestrange gulped quietly as he took it and forced himself to read it out loud.

Patient name: NYMERA DELPHI LESTRANGE

Age: 11

Results: MALIGNANT MAGICAL MALADY, ENHANCED COUNTERFEIT BLOOD CURSE

Heart rate is abnormally erratic, as though being placed under constant stress and pressure to do its job from a foreign invader.

Dangerous iron deficiency and low blood pressure due to dangerous foreign invader.

Lung function is, on the whole, stable; Patient Lestrange's magic seems to be defending this function the most.

Dangerously weakened muscles; slight risk of muscle atrophy present.

Stomach and bowel functions appear to be relatively normal.

Patient Lestrange's magic in a dangerously weakened state due to almost permanently focused on fighting the disease. The magic focuses on healing any damage and fortifying protections in conjunction with the white blood cells. Antibodies have formed but are not killing the disease.

Malignant malady acts in a manner akin to Male Magicae but is attacking the body much more violently than normal. Conclusion: counterfeit Blood Curse was tampered with.

"Morgana!" Lady Lestrange's hands went to her mouth. "The Lady Hera's hunch was correct!"

Lord Lestrange was going purple in the face with fury. "How. Did. We. MISS. THIS?!"

"My Lord, as far as I am aware, your people have yet to do proper research into the uses and side effects of half of your own branches of magic," Griphook stated dryly. "Correct me if I am mistaken, but I haven't read a single article in your people's academic journals on counterfeit Blood Curses."

"That is because, Mr. Griphook, no one dares to touch them, for good reason," Lady Lestrange sounded breathless. "I think the next question is, what can be done?"

"Well, I am afraid it means taking some of Mistress Nymera's blood and taking a closer look at how this disease acts," Rava stated grimly.

"You can take it," Nymera replied almost immediately. "If it will help."

"Merlin, she's brave," Artemis commented as one of the Healers took a needle, which made her flinch immediately, but didn't faze Nymera in the slightest. The girl didn't even flinch or scream as the needle pricked her fragile skin.

Griphook turned to leave. "I will update the Lady Hera on the results. I know she is most anxious about it."

Lord Lestrange looked up sharply. "Mr. Griphook, could you be so kind as to ask if she is able to visit us at Lestrange Manor in the afternoon tomorrow, at around two or three? I know it is Yule Eve tomorrow but I would really like to speak to her face to face without the possibility of being overheard at the Malfoy Ball."

"I will make sure to mention your request, sir," Griphook responded crisply. "But I cannot guarantee her answer."

Lord Lestrange nodded in acknowledgement. Once Griphook finished the letter and sent it off, the owl seemed to know instinctively how urgent the matter of the letter entailed and so put some extra gusto into its flight, reaching the Evren Estates, hidden in Devonshire, in record time.

The Lady Regnant had been playing the violin while her guardians and the Flamels were singing old Yule songs from the past when the owl pecked erratically on the window to catch her attention. Harry had rushed to the window to allow the bird in, take the letter and allow the owl to warm up while she broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

Once she had finished reading, the Mistress of Death raised her head in resignation and exchanged a look with the Gringotts owl. She had hoped her hunch had been wrong, but apparently she had been right on the money. How had no one else noticed this or even thought of exploring this avenue?

Had there been Healers who were putting their careers first rather than the life of a young girl?

"Harry, everything all right?" Tom asked, looking up from his book, looking a little concerned.

"I hate it when my funny feelings aren't really that funny," Harry commented cryptically as she folded the letter back up and promptly burned it, putting it into a heatproof bowl. "I am going to see the Lestranges at two tomorrow. Lord Lestrange wants to speak to me."

"About what?" the Immortal Alchemist asked, sounding a little nervous.

"That is what I intend to find out," was the answer he got from the Lady Regnant as she went to quill her answer.

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

"I don't like this," Meg commented, shaking her head at her so-called uniform. "I don't like this at all."

"Meg, this is the only way we can theoretically be able to get some answers," Ghost stated. "I don't like this any more than you do – I mean the costume is bloody ridiculous – but the Malfoys have hired extra security-"

"No, I am not complaining because of the costume, idiot!" Meg snarled. "We are effectively party crashing to try and not only find Grindelwald's agents, but to effectively stalk a girl who may have been part of Operation Sparta!"

"Sssssh!" Goliath came back into the room with food and drink at this point. "Do you want the people in Room 10 to hear you?"

Ghost and Meg glowered at each other before clenching their jaws.

Goliath closed the door firmly and looked at his colleagues. "Wisp has been in touch. High command has ordered that Grindelwald's agents cannot be allowed to leave Malfoy Manor alive. As for Ambrose and Bradley," Goliath swallowed, looking extremely solemn and sombre, "we have been ordered to leave them in St. Mungo's."

"What?!" Ghost could hardly believe his ears. "Abandon them, now? When we are getting close and closer to beating the Alliance?"

"Wisp says the two of them are compromised," Goliath stated as he sat on the floor with his food. "He does not want us to spend any further energy when we have the opportunity to strike a blow at the very heart of Grindelwald's operation. Wisp made his wishes clear: 'ignore the girl, get the snakes'."

Ghost was red with rage. Meg nodded her head in agreement. "This is total bullshit! We would not have been able to do half of the raids and missions we did without Ambrose and Bradley!"

"Lorcan, it is out of our hands," Goliath sighed. "We will deal with their lack of sanity when Grindelwald has fallen."

"Unbelievable," Ghost scowled. He forced himself to get a grip on his emotions for a moment. "I do have one question. How will we be able to even find the agents?"

"Wisp is sending something tomorrow," Goliath informed. "We just need to keep an eye on our fireplace, apparently."

"Of course," Meg rolled her eyes. "Wisp and his eccentric ways."

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

Harry has had several types of Yule Eve in the past: ones that were miserable, a few that were genuinely happy, and ones which had made her wish Yule had decided to skip a year just so that she could avoid all the peace and good will and family love around her. Yule Eve of 1944 was the first time that Harry woke up at what most people call an ungodly hour, five-eighteen in the morning to have some fun, but not to finish her gifts. Those were long done.

She stepped out into the garden, dressed in full Mistress of Death battle armour, the thin layer of snow on the ground crunching beneath her feet. Harry closed her eyes and took in the cold English winter air before taking a happy sigh, opening her eyes, and conjuring counterfeit humans and Dark creatures alike. They were not as good as the fakes the Room provided but they would have to suffice.

The humans were a decent challenge for her, given that they fought in a comparable manner to Voldemort's Death Eaters and were pretty decent in hand-to-hand combat. Her Dark creatures were not as much of a test, except her werewolves and vampires. Harry didn't even need to call on her soul friends apart from the arctic fox the entire time, which annoyed her more than she was willing to express.

As the defeated enemies disintegrated, the Lady Regnant huffed to herself in frustration. But before she could conjure the next set, she sensed something flying at her through the air and her eyes flashed silver. Harry whirled around to see that her magic had halted a dagger to her back with Melinoë up on the roof, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

The Mistress of Death scoffed. "Wow. Really Melinoë? Attacking someone while their back is turned is so not cool."

"I knew you'd catch it," the Goddess of Ghosts shrugged nonchalantly as she elegantly jumped down and landed on her two feet without an issue. "Hypnos said that he felt you escape the Realm and he would have come down himself but he busy sorting out yet another squabble between Morpheus and Phobetur. Tosti is sorting out a complaint left by his Reapers that there seems to be a multi-claim on a soul."

"Multi-claim?" Harry repeated.

"Yeah," Melinoë chuckled. "That sometimes happens when multiple divisions have staked a claim on a soul. In this case, my father's realm, Valhalla and Annwn. The last multi-claim was between Anubis and Heaven, with Anubis winning because the girl had felt closer to the old Egyptian gods than she did her parents' Christian faith."

"How come I didn't get to know about it?" Harry frowned. None of her visions had shown her that.

"Because it was above your clearance level, so to speak," Melinoë grinned. The Goddess's staff turned into a rapier at this point and she bowed. "May I have this duel, my Lady?"

Harry smirked and bowed back. "I couldn't say no to a goddess."

Melinoë chuckled.

The Mistress of Death and the Goddess of Ghosts spent almost three hours sparring and training while discussing everything and nothing. Melinoë even opened up about her relationship with her siblings, Macaria and Zagreus, and their parents, which Harry had not expected.

"My father is actually a big softie if you know him properly," Melinoë stated as Harry sharpened her blade. "My mother wears the trousers in their relationship. Most of the new methods of punishment for evil souls in our realm are her ideas. Heracles was right to call her the Iron Queen because mercy is only reserved for those she deems worthy of it."

"Seriously?" Harry couldn't help but smile at that.

"Oh yes," Melinoë exhaled sharply. "Persephone has very little elements of Kore left in her."

Harry nodded. "Do you … see them often?"

"I try to see them as little as possible, though I am forced to regale stories to them every time I come home even for a minute," Melinoë sighed. She laughed shortly.

The Lady Regnant got to her feet with a small smile. "Another bout, my friend?"

The daughter of Hades and Persephone nodded, welcoming the distraction. She and Harry were level on points, after all, and Melinoë never liked being bested. Plus, Harry was so enthusiastic that she found she didn't have the heart to say no.

During their umpteenth sparring session, Harry did turn things up a notch with the Soul Fire balls that she was conjuring with her own soul's fire! It seemed that the Mistress of Death had put herself under an extremely strict training regime. Melinoë had found herself laughing with glee as she deflected the powerful fireballs or cut right through them skilfully. The goddess found herself actually panting from the effort, though.

Melinoë had suspected it for months but now she was almost convinced that Hera Peverell's potential in power alone eclipsed those of some of the other naturally born Masters and Mistresses of Death. She simply could not wait to see Harry in battle once more!

Before the Goddess of Ghosts could summon her Hounds, someone cleared their throat very loudly, and the two of them looked up to see Nicholas, Perenelle, Athenaïs and Tom, watching them in fascination, all of them drinking hot chocolate.

"It is a little bit nippy out here to be doing this, isn't it?" Nicholas called jovially.

Harry chuckled. "The chilly air wakes you up, Nick! You should know that by now."

"Yes, and will also ensure that you may catch a cold. Come inside, the both of you," Perenelle stated, shaking her head. "Tom has been an absolute angel and made some hot chocolate just now."

Tom looked a little sheepish. "I thought Melanie and Harry might like a warm drink after training so hard."

"You have a gentleman in your suitor, Harry," Nicholas laughed as Harry and Melinoë walked towards them.

"I know I do," Harry smiled lovingly at Tom as he handed her a mug of cocoa. "Were you watching for a long time?"

"Oh no, not at all," Perenelle reassured. "Now, how about I make a spot of breakfast?"

"But I stink like a kipper!" Harry protested, nearly choking on her cocoa.

"You don't," Tom disagreed as he placed a lingering kiss on her temple. "Well, nothing a quick shower won't fix."

Harry rolled her eyes but couldn't help smile. She did take a quick warm shower before breakfast though. It gave her some time to mentally prepare to come face to face with the Lestranges properly later that day.

Tom helped a lot with mental preparation for the day, mainly because after breakfast he insisted on seeing the map of Malfoy Manor and discussing the potential scenarios that could play out during the Ball regarding Grindelwald's disguised agents. The two of them had sequestered themselves away in Harry's chambers, away from the prying eyes of the five immortals and the Three Brothers. Evren's portrait was dozing silently as the two huddled on the floor over the map.

"I think the best we can do is keep an eye on anyone who seems overly eager to make your acquaintance," Tom stated as he once more studied the map.

"I also think Goldstein and Rosier will not risking disguising themselves as anyone too prominent," Harry responded. "They will likely be someone from a Minor House or a vassal House. Important enough to invite but not important enough to pay too much attention to. It's what I would have done."

Tom nodded to himself. "Still, I will write to my Knights to keep an eye on things." He pursed his lips and looked at her with an unreadable expression. "Harry, I hate to ask this but is there something else that bothered Caius, other than being called a Communist, and … fearing his own friends?"

Harry smiled smally. "It is not for me to say. It's not something I feel comfortable discussing without his permission."

Her future Consort scoffed softly. "You're unfailingly loyal as always."

That Lady Regnant's expression softened quickly.

"Maybe you should try to talk to him yourself?" Harry suggested. "If you're genuinely concerned about Dolohov's issue then I think it is best that it comes from you personally, rather than me."

The last Gaunt took a moment to consider her words.

"I think I will try," Tom sounded like he was more talking to himself than to her. He then switched the subject again, swallowing slightly. "May I ask you something that's perhaps none of my business?"

Harry could not help but smile a little at his nervousness. At this point it was almost endearing how careful Tom was with some of his questions and then not with others. "Go ahead."

Tom chuckled nervously. "I don't know if I have asked this before, but when did you realise you had feelings for Altair?"

The Traveller blinked and smiled with fond nostalgia. "It's difficult to say, but I know the embers of attraction were lit the evening that Altair came to me for help with Potions and I knew I liked him when he stayed with me doing knitting instead of going to class because he refused to leave me alone while my Sickness and that Ill Health Curse were affecting me so badly."

Tom looked away in shame at this point. Harry took one of his hands in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She cocked her head slightly, studying him closely. "What about you? When did you know?"

"For him, I still haven't been able to pinpoint it," Tom admitted. "But you … I think I can now say that the embers of attraction, as you so wonderfully put it, started somewhere in our game of Ask Tom a Billion Questions. To be honest, it may have been earlier but I just can't say for certain."

Harry didn't even attempt to stop the goofy grin forming on her face.

Tom then closed his eyes and exhaled sharply in annoyance, causing the grin to fade a little as Harry's thumb began caressing the hand she held. "What is it?" she asked in a gentle tone that was almost a whisper. "Something's on your mind and weighing you down." Would he finally come clean to her?

The conflicted young man next to her lifted worried and sad burgundy eyes to her kind verdant ones. "You know what I did to my Muggle family. How … why … what do you even feel for me knowing what I have done?"

Harry blinked at him in surprise but quickly recovered. Perhaps this was her chance to convince him to confess to his little Horcruxes! She quickly fortified her Occlumency shields and put a determined look into her eyes. "What I feel for you is what I felt for you before and after what I had seen; I trusted you then and I trust you now. Some would call me a fool for doing so but I don't care. I am not much better," she scoffed at this. "My hands are anything but clean."

"You did not commit cold blooded murder," Tom had lowered his voice so that only Harry could hear him.

Harry then decided to take a risk. She lowered the Occlumency barriers around the Battle of Antwerp and rescue mission to save the Flamels, and the events surrounding the victory over the Tracker and then stated, "Tom, look into my head."

Tom's eyes widened and for a moment he hesitated, but very quickly he moved closer to her, cupping her cheek as he whispered, "Legilimens."

It felt like an eternity that Tom was watching Harry taking out Grindelwald's men, stabbing one of them literally in the back, the Flamels escaping as Shadow Hounds together with some of Melinoë's Hounds. The ensuing battle between Harry and Grindelwald's best Generals had not been pretty either – the Lady Regnant had not even tried to hold back in lethal attacks and she knew Tom now knew she didn't regret any of it. The memory ended the moment Harry was struck with the Power Wither Hex and then showed Tom what she did – to the sleeper agents and the Tracker. The last memory he saw was Harry's sacrificing one of the men to send the Tracker back to the Otherworld.

Tom exhaled sharply as he withdrew from her head and Harry rebuilt her shields. The boy was pale and his eyes were dancing with too many emotions to discern properly. Harry found herself babbling again.

"Do you see what I mean? I was trained to kill! The measures I took would have been seen as unnecessary to many and would have been content to condemn me for it. Tom, I get rage and vengeance better than most – you know this! Please, if something is bothering you, I want to know about it. Please … let me help you."

There was a tense silence as Tom seemed to be battling internally with the dilemma of whether or not to tell Harry. The Lady Peverell put her left hand over Tom's hand that was still cupping her cheek and that seemed to have broken something in Tom because very soon, she found herself on her back with her lover claiming her lips into a hungry, longing kiss. Harry returned it in seconds but allowing Tom to take the lead; he clearly needed to be in charge of something he could control at the moment. She did almost internally kick herself when she let out a small whine of disappointment when he stopped plundering her mouth. The disappointment was very quickly replaced by a wave of desire as she felt Tom's teeth and lips nip at her neck.

"I did promise Altair you would not escape this treatment," Tom commented hoarsely in between nips.

"Tom," Harry groaned as he found one of her many weak spots. "You will leave marks…"

"Good."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at his flippant tone, trying to ignore her growing lust. "Not good! I do not want any awkward questions from half of wizarding Britain tonight!"

Tom was unphased as he stopped to look at her with mischief dancing in his eyes. "We have Glamours for a reason, love."

Harry shook her head at him. "You're incorrigible!"

"Oh on the contrary, my love, you have changed me almost beyond recognition," Tom argued easily, moving onto the other side of her neck. "You, and Altair."

Harry moaned as Tom continued marking her neck, running her hands through his curls. Once he was done and satisfied with his work, Tom claimed her lips in a loving kiss before letting her up. Harry immediately went to look at herself in the mirror to see just how many Glamours she would need.

The answer: around fifteen.

"Tom!"

Tom smirked to himself, looking very pleased. "Yes, my darling?" he asked in a faux innocent tone.

Harry spluttered with laughter. "I look ravished! This is going to take ages to cover up."

"True," Tom stated matter-of-factly.

The Lady Regnant huffed dramatically and started to get to work on the Glamours. "You are lucky Aunt Evren's asleep."

The only magical portrait in the room startled to chuckle. "Not anymore!"

Harry's face turned tomato red in two seconds flat.

"Oh and Niece, you missed one."

"Bloody hell!"

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

After what felt like an hour of covering up the incriminating markings on her neck with Glamour after Glamour, Harry prepared herself to visit the Lestrange family. She had chosen to wear a nice clean cut pair of black trousers, a simple-looking cotton shirt with a Renaissance cut to it and a rather high collar to it, a jerkin with dragon and thunderbird patterns, one of her velvet jackets with a high collar, her knee-high snow boots and a black low top hat with an Edwardian cut. Harry also made sure to wear Evren's amulet as an extra reminder of her status, just in case Lord Lestrange didn't take her seriously.

Evren had been very approving of this move. "All you need is one of those canes the purebloods these days are taking to," she had commented.

Harry snorted. "Just as long as it doesn't have a snake head."

She really did not fancy becoming a female Lucius Malfoy.

Her immortal friends and her future Consort had also readily given their approval of her attire, which made Harry relax that tad a bit more. She stepped into the living room fireplace with some Floo Powder and stated, "Gringotts Bank!", as clearly as she could, green flames engulfing her in seconds.

Harry had been very thankful that the goblins had decided it was best she travelled to them first in order to ensure that the Lestranges would not be able to simply open up a Floo Network between them and the Evren Estates whenever they pleased. She already knew that when this war was over, she would find a way to thank the goblins for their service in protecting her and her family.

The Lady Regnant stepped out into the office of King Ragnok, surprising herself that she didn't even stumble out this time or get too covered in soot, where she was met by the Goblin King, Griphook and the goblin she assumed was Rosberg.

"Blessed Yule, my Lady," the King greeted jovially. "I trust you are well?"

"Blessed Yule to you too, and thank you, Your Grace," Harry smiled brightly, curtseying, "I am very well. As are my family." She frowned a little. "How are Mr. de Vere and Mr. Hirano-san?"

"Tired," Griphook informed candidly. "Wishing they could be back home for Yule."

"I can imagine," Harry stated grimly. She then lightened up. "How about yourselves?"

"Looking forward to having a few days off!" Griphook laughed.

"And sleeping in," Rosberg added.

The King chuckled at this and then composed himself. "The Network is ready for you, my Lady."

Harry nodded her head in thanks, took a short fortifying breath, stepped into the fireplace again, took some more Powder and called out, "Lestrange Manor!"

When the green flames around her faded, Harry stepped out into a grand room with several more fireplaces for the Floo Network, all of which were decorated with candles and wreathes of holly. Her welcoming party consisted of Heron, his mother the Lady Rhiannon Lestrange whom Harry had met only briefly at King's Cross and who was carrying a young eleven-year-old girl in her arms, cloaked in around three blankets, as well as Felix, Malum, Oizys and Dolohov. The latter four looked rather smug at her undisguised surprise to see them.

Harry removed her hat elegantly and gave a bow of the head to Heron's mother. "Lady Lestrange, it is a pleasure to see you again," she stated politely, lifting her head but keeping her hat off her head.

Little Nymera was the first to answer. "Mama, is this really the Lady Regnant? She dresses like a man! Why do you look so much like Artemis?"

"Nymera, hush!" Heron flushed in embarrassment.

Lady Lestrange bowed to Harry as well as she could manage with her daughter in her arms. "Welcome to our home, my Lady. It is an honour to truly meet you. Heron and Artemis have told us a lot about you."

"I'm sure they have, ma'am," Harry flushed a little herself.

"Don't fret, my Lady, they kept the embarrassing stories to a minimum," Felix informed her with a face-splitting grin.

"Felix!" Heron stated warningly.

Lady Lestrange cleared her throat, taking control of the situation once more. "My husband is still currently finishing some business he needed to attend to, but would you like some tea, scones, sandwiches and cakes? We were going to have an abnormally early afternoon tea. It is utterly inappropriate to have now under normal circumstances, I know, but with my husband's work and the Malfoy Ball being today as well, we find ourselves in a bit of a chaotic mess."

Harry smiled reassuringly at Heron's mother. "My Lady, I assure you I do not mind. A few months ago I would not even have known it was inappropriate to have afternoon tea after two instead of after five so I am the last to judge you on the matter."

Lady Lestrange deflated with relief.

"You really are abnormally blasé," Nymera observed. "It borders on impertinence."

"I did tell you," Oizys grinned.

While Heron and Malum gave their sisters a warning look, Harry found herself chuckling. "I suppose I am rather," she agreed as she followed the Lestranges and their guests out of the Floo Room and into the grand entrance hall of Lestrange Manor. "Especially when I believe someone is making a fuss over nothing."

"A fuss over nothing?!" Nymera repeated in disbelief. "Proper afternoon tea etiquette is not nothing. It can make or break a courtship! No one wishes to marry a wife or a husband who is an absolute slob."

"Oh, I agree," Harry tried to keep a straight face at this point. "But frankly I think it is utterly ridiculous to drop a potential suitor simply because he mishandled how he put his spoon on his saucer after stirring his tea cup. Now, if a person starts burping for no good reason, then I will be the first to defenestrate the scoundrel."

That got the reaction Harry had been aiming for: Nymera, and Oizys, started giggling madly at this.

However, the two girls – plus Heron, Malum, Felix, Dolohov and Lady Lestrange – kept a close eye on her etiquette skills and Harry had expected that. She tried to ignore them as she put her napkin on her lap and stirred her tea silently, precisely three times up and down before setting the teaspoon on the right side of the saucer. The Lady Regnant sat up straight, maintaining almost perfect posture, as she sipped her tea, her thumb and index fingers meeting in the handle and her middle finger tucked underneath the handle.

All the while, Harry could hear Walburga's voice in her head.

Do not slouch! This is afternoon tea, not high tea!

Stir silently; you don't want to create unnecessary noise or damage the tea cup.

Pinch the cup; you don't ever hook your finger through the hole and stick your pinkie out!

There was another who seemed to be reading her mind.

"It seems Black, Rosier, Rowle and White's militant training paid off," Oizys commented with a grin as she tucked into a tea sandwich.

Harry smiled weakly at that, cautiously picking a sandwich from the afternoon tea stand.

"Do you do this with your guardians?" Nymera asked curiously.

"No," Harry smirked momentarily. "We just have a very big lunch and a nice mug of tea after dinner."

"Oh," Nymera frowned a little. "Did you ever have afternoon tea with your parents?"

Harry's lips pursed momentarily. "No."

"Nymera, sweetheart, I think that's enough of that," Lady Lestrange cajoled gently. "Every family is different."

Felix and Dolohov scoffed in conjunction with each other.

"That is putting it mildly, Lady Lestrange," Dolohov commented sourly.

The curious young Lestrange turned back to Harry, regarding her carefully as Harry carefully ate her sandwich. "You have very pretty eyes."

Harry smiled weakly. "Thank you. They're my mother's eyes."

"Was your mother as pretty as you?"

The Lady Regnant could not help but laugh, her memory of seeing some old photos of her parents in her old photo album and Sirius' room flashing in front of her eyes. "I'd say she was prettier," she responded candidly.

Nymera hummed and narrowed her eyes at Harry's forehead. "Your scar looks like lightning bolts."

"Yes," Harry agreed with a small sigh. "It's what happens when one gets touched by an evil curse."

Heron intervened at this point. "Nymera, I think you need to stop interrogating our guest."

"It's fine," Harry reassured weakly.

Malum decided to steer the conversation away from the dangerous subject of Harry's dark past. "How are you, Tom and Nott holding up?" he asked curiously.

Harry tried not to flush as she thought about the amount of Glamours on her neck. "Erm … in what way?" she questioned.

"The Sacrum Vinculum pull," Malum responded, sounding slightly awkward.

"Oh that. It's messing with our heads a bit," Harry confessed. "Other than that, it's just a simple case of missing each other."

"Is it true nothing too scandalous happened at Lucretia Black's Presentation?" Felix asked eagerly. "Mother read and re-read the piece in The Court of Britain but there was not a single mention of single shoe being thrown around!"

Harry suppressed an eye roll as she sipped her tea, trying not to laugh. "That's because no shoes were thrown around. No cousins were kissing under the mistletoe either, before you start asking."

Dolohov somehow picked up on something in her tone. "But … something did happen?"

The Lady Regnant wilted slightly and she pursed her lips momentarily and scoffed lightly. "It's nothing to write about, which is why it wasn't mentioned," Harry eventually spoke up.

"What happened?" Felix wanted to know, all mirth and humour gone from his tone immediately when he noted her change in demeanour.

Harry smiled coldly. "Caspar Crouch refused to acknowledge my status as a Lady Regnant, showed open disdain for my mother and accused Lycoris Black of being a hypocrite when she expressed how sorry she was for the death of my parents." She set her tea cup down. "I should have expected it, in hindsight."

Heron and Malum looked absolutely scandalised; Lady Lestrange did not look happy about this either. Felix and Dolohov looked extremely conflicted.

"I assume you managed to somehow keep your temper?" Malum guessed. Harry nodded in affirmation.

"Well done," Heron praised with a beaming smile. "That could not have been easy."

"It wasn't," Harry confessed.

"Anything else that the article neglected to mention?" Dolohov dared to ask.

The Lady Regnant turned a little bit nervous at this point. "I had a debate with Arcturus Black the Elder about Muggles and the Black tradition of blasting family members off the tapestry."

"Excuse me?" Lady Lestrange blinked while the children gaped. "You debated with Arcturus Black the Elder on two of the most taboo subjects and you did not get hexed or cursed for it?"

"I was rather surprised he didn't. I think he enjoyed it, partially," Harry admitted sheepishly.

"Merlin," Felix scoffed, chuckling. "You really do have nerves of steel."

"That could have gone wrong so very easily," Oizys pointed out. "The Blacks must really like her in order to tolerate that."

CRACK!

Harry jumped slightly when the Head Elf of Lestrange Manor appeared, bowing reverently to Lady Lestrange. "Lord Lestrange has finished with his busy-ness, Mistress," the elf stated grandly.

"About time!" Lady Lestrange laughed and looked to Harry. "Marrow will take you to him."

The Lady Regnant rose to her feet, folded her napkin carefully and placed it to the left of her tea cup. She gathered her hat and bowed her head to Heron's mother. "Thank you for the tea, Lady Lestrange."

Lady Lestrange beamed. "My pleasure, my Lady."

Marrow the elf bowed lowly to her and held out his hand. "Take Marrow's hand, my Lady."

Harry did so and in a blink of an eye found herself in a very grand, Gothic room with giant bookcases, sofas and Brocade carpets and coverings. The room was extremely light, mainly due to how big the windows were. She saw an amazing amount of carved ravens around the room. Her eyes were drawn to the grand oak desk and the man sat behind it.

Lord Francis Lestrange was clearly Heron's father because Heron was a mini copy of the man. Much like Sirius Black II, Lord Lestrange had a gravitas that command one's attention and respect but unlike the former Lord Black, Heron's father did not instil a fear in Harry. It was more a slight apprehension but Harry could at least think straight with this guy. However, that didn't mean that Lord Lestrange was a man to be crossed lightly and it was the last thing she accidentally wanted to do.

Marrow bowed to his Master. "Master, the Lady Hera to sees yous," he stated grandly.

Lord Lestrange looked up from his book and looked up. He smiled momentarily at Harry and then regarded Marrow with a natural expression. "Thank you, Marrow. You may leave us."

CRACK!

As soon as the elf was gone, Lord Lestrange got up from his grand chair. "Thank you for coming, my Lady. I realise that this is highly unusual but given the circumstances I felt this conversation is more aptly conducted in person rather than over a letter."

"Indeed, sir, I understand," Harry reassured as Heron's father guided her over to the sofas.

"Good. Well, I would first like to thank you for not only keeping the truth of my daughter's illness a secret but also that you cared enough to bear her situation in mind," Lord Lestrange's sigh was so heavy, Harry feared he would start blubbing.

"No thanks necessary, sir," Harry reassured. "I just have this inability to ignore a mystery."

The Noble composed himself quickly. "Then I really must ask, my Lady, how did you come to theorise that it was a counterfeit Blood Curse?"

Harry frowned. "Did Heron not tell you, my Lord?"

"He did not; he only pleaded on your behalf for Lady Lestrange and myself to take you seriously," Lord Lestrange replied.

Harry nodded. "Believe it or not, it started because of a joke about a Hufflepuff using a fake Blood Curse as part of revenge against someone who pissed him off – excuse the language but 'vex' is an understatement. That was when I got one of my funny feelings and I continued asking about counterfeit Blood Curses; how virulent they are, how they work, you get the idea. Heron had told me a little bit about Nymera's symptoms and those symptoms were eerily similar to the ones of a counterfeit Blood Curse. That's the long story made short. Naturally I had no evidence so I decided to try and get some with a great deal of discretion, which is why I wrote to my employers at Gringotts."

Lord Lestrange blinked. "You put two and two together?"

"I am going to be honest – it was mostly hoping against hope I was wrong because when I get one of my funny feelings, I usually am right and I hate it when that happens. Because it usually means the worst," Harry sighed. "I hoped two plus two equalled seventy and not four."

"Well, in this case, four is the correct answer," Lord Lestrange responded, smiling slightly in amusement.

"So, if I may ask, what will happen next?" Harry wanted to know.

She thought that she might have overstepped the line when the man pursed his lips, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. But Harry's fears were stilled when Heron's father answered. "They are testing her blood to see what kind of counterfeit Blood Curse we are dealing with and to try and find a way to counter act it. Hopefully."

Harry nodded. She subconsciously started fiddling with her Head of House ring as she asked her next question. "My Lord, may I know what your political circumstances were when Nymera first fell ill? Did you … have any enemies?"

Lord Lestrange smiled lopsidedly. "We all have enemies, my Lady, especially in politics. My greatest rivals and foes at the time, though, were the people Heron mentioned to you. Lord Black, Lord Malfoy, Lord Nott and the Carrows." He frowned deeply. "Do you genuinely believe one of them had something to do with this?"

"Every crime is composed of three simple elements: motive, means and opportunity," Harry responded easily. "We know the means, now we need motive and opportunity. Who would stand to gain from Nymera's illness? Was there something to gain from it? Was Nymera even the original target? Was it meant for Heron, or yourself?"

Lord Lestrange's eyes widened as he listened to the strange Lady Regnant in front of him, voicing some of the thoughts he and his wife had been having for all those years Nymera had been ill. However, now someone was actually validating their suspicions. He was almost knocked out of his chair by his surprise when the Lady Hera started apologising profusely.

"-I really need to watch my tongue! I am so sorry; once I start, I find it difficult to stop. You should ask Heron and Artemis – it drives people up the wall! You should also ask Tom and Altair-"

"My Lady, stop! There is nothing to apologise for," Lord Lestrange found himself reassuring the strange young Noble Cursebreaker. "I have found myself asking those very questions over the years but I always believed I was mad, or holding onto a grudge." He sighed. "The issue is, each one of them may have had motive or opportunity but would have covered their tracks splendidly. Especially the Malfoys."

"Or got someone else to do it for them," Harry added thoughtfully.

"That too," Lord Lestrange agreed. "Rhiannon and I were considering going to the Aurors soon with some of our suspicions and the results of the goblins' test."

Harry paled. "With all due respect, sir, it is far too early for that. The moment that it is made known that the Lestranges are launching an investigation into someone cursing their daughter with a counterfeit Blood Curse, the culprit will start destroying evidence. They will run for the hills and you may well lose your answers for good."

Lord Lestrange's jaw clenched momentarily but he quickly relaxed. "You make a good point, my Lady."

"Would you be averse to me doing some more sleuthing tonight? See if I can winkle one or two clues out of the main suspects?" Harry asked tentatively. "I know people know I am friends with Heron but many still see me as the uneducated foreigner and I think that could play to my advantage."

There was an unreadable expression in the eyes of Heron's father at this point. The Traveller found herself feeling slightly uncomfortable by the close scrutiny but relaxed when there was a smile on the man's countenance. "I think you must be one of the most singularly unique people I have ever met, Lady Hera."

"I have heard that before," Harry chuckled nervously.

"Rhiannon and I would be obliged if you kept your ears open," Lord Lestrange stated finally. "But mostly try and have some fun tonight. From what Heron and Artemis have told us, you need a bit more enjoyment in your life. We are already grateful that you are as sharp-witted as you are. Now, I think I have kept you long enough and I know that Nymera has been eager to make your better acquaintance."

Harry rose to her feet elegantly. "So I gather. You have an honest and precocious daughter, sir."

Lord Lestrange chuckled. "Yes. I suspect she takes after Rhiannon's side of the family!"

"Oh?" Harry's eyebrows went up in surprise at the blunt statement.

"Yes. Must be because Rhiannon's family is Welsh, I often think to myself. They are not always so keen on the British stiff upper lip or hiding their emotions and thoughts," Lord Lestrange had no issue with divulging, grinning as he did so. "My mother-in-law and father-in-law have some very interesting things to say about the English but half the time they start ranting in Welsh so I usually don't understand most of it. Heron often has to translate for me."

Harry chuckled lightly but didn't dare to press further for information. But she did have to admit to herself that when she went home at around five, after spending hours listening to Oizys and Nymera babble and ask questions and ask their brothers to play a game, Harry needed to take a quick power nap before being able to handle the Malfoy Ball.

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

Queenie and Vida spent a good three hours preparing for the Ball and their mission. In typical Vida fashion, the Rosier scion had booked them a hairdresser's appointment as well as a manicure in one of the lesser known alleys that branched away from Diagon Alley. Queenie had wanted to point out the risk of doing that but Vida was not to be dissuaded, despite being the one who advocated for caution to be taken.

It was a very good thing that Gellert had packed them extra Polyjuice Potion. Gellert had even packed some extra pieces of jewellery with a note that had read, You will have to wear those ridiculous dresses to stay in character but that doesn't mean you have to use their cheap trinkets – Gellert.

Helena Urquhart and Isobel Runcorn did have some ridiculously pompous dresses, which had made Queenie and Vida wince, respectively. Apparently the Malfoys had opted for a costume ball this year around and had assigned every guest a theme. Urquhart's had been Ice Simurgh and Runcorn had been assigned Handmaiden of Winter. Both women had ordered their dresses before the two women had been seized by Queenie and Vida and promptly locked away in Vida's special trunk that was usually used to transport prisoners.

Queenie had done some minor improvements to the dress, getting rid of some excess feathers on the gown that were simply not necessary while Vida actually added one or two things to her gown because she felt Runcorn's seamstress really did a poor job in making the gown look simple but still of high rank.

At least they felt comfortable wearing the gowns in public after the amendments. All the while the two of them were getting dressed, the Rosier scion ran down the itinerary for the evening. "I have ensured that our dear escorts will meet us at Malfoy Manor – I cannot believe I am stuck with a bloody Bennet while you are going with a Yaxley! Oh well, it is a good thing we have work to do tonight; it will make having to put up with their tedious swanning just a bit more bearable. It is a good thing Caspar, Macnair and Rollo will be there. It will make slipping away a whole lot easier – Queenie! Are you listening to me?"

The Natural Legilimens rolled her eyes and smiled as angelically as she could. "Of course, darlin'."

Vida regarded her suspiciously before huffing. "Well, just make sure to mention a lot about familiar breeding and Abraxans tonight to keep up the pretence."

"You don't need to tell me how to do my job, dove," Queenie smirked. "Just focus on bein' your good old gossipy, annoyin' self and everythin' will be rosy."

Before Vida could make a retort, her two-way mirror that Credence had given her started to hum to the tune of Paper Doll. Queenie reached over and picked it up from Isobel's vanity table where the small mirror lay and picked up the call with a smile.

"Hello, Credence, darlin'! Are you missin' us that bad?" she teased as Vida hurried over.

"Yes!" Credence stated candidly. "It's too bloody quiet around here."

"Permit us to doubt that," Vida scoffed, Queenie chuckling. Both girls then grinned when they noticed his outfit. "Are you dressed as snowman?"

"Yes! I cannot wait for Yule – Gellert has been going nuts for the past few days since it is the last time he gets to humiliate me in this manner," the Obscurus wailed. "Girls, hurry up and get back here as soon as possible. I am going mad!"

Queenie then noticed fully that Credence was in a very dark room and she started spluttering even more. "Credence, dove, are you hiding in your closet?"

Credence started crying to himself. "Yes! It's the only place Gellert hasn't looked yet!"

The other two Generals inelegantly snorted with laughter at this point. The both of them did have to sit down on Isobel Runcorn's bed because there was a sudden scream on the other end of the line with Gellert jovially exclaiming, "Everybody stop panicking, I have found Credence in the closet!"

The Dark Lord then noticed that his General was making a call and decided to see who it was because Gellert's curious face popped into view. When he saw Queenie and Vida, he lit up. "How are my favourite girls doing? Everything prepared? Have you got your Polyjuice flasks? You have some extra Anti-Sweat Potion? We do not want you girls stinking like warm cabbages tonight."

"Everythin' is prepared," Queenie reassured him once she gathered her breath.

"Good, then while I have you on the line, I want you to keep a very close eye on our little birds that are attending tonight," Gellert stated. "I have a feeling some new information may come to light tonight – my Sight practically confirmed it – so I need you to be alert. Treat our little Cursebreaker civilly tonight; can you get her favourite cake out of her do you think? Her favourite tea and cookies as well. And keep scoundrels away from her."

"I think her suitors will be able to do that job," Queenie chuckled.

Vida snorted. "What could a pair of seventeen-eighteen-year-old boys do against adults?" She made eye contact with her leader and gave a nod. "We will keep an eye on her, sir."

"Splendid!" Gellert beamed. "Now, ladies, very important question: what kind of Yule log do the two of you want? Do you want raspberry jam fillings or would you like something different this time? And what icing do you girls want? We already have requests for espresso, liquor, buttercream-"

"Gellert, just surprise us," Queenie grinned while Vida looked a little bit irritated that the subject had gotten back onto cake again. "We will contact you later when we are set to return."

"Please hurry!" Credence begged.

"Now, now, Credence, that is enough of the dramatics," Gellert admonished happily. "You promised to help with making the glühwein and the spaetzle. You are not going to be a Scrooge again, are you?"

The last thing the two Generals saw was their comrade being yanked out of his closet by an enthusiastic Dark Lord and the last thing they heard was Grindelwald singing O Tannenbaum while doing so. Once the line went dead, Queenie and Vida both chuckled to themselves.

At least they were missing the Yule madness at Nurmengard for once!

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

"At least none of us had a dress malfunction or costume meltdown this time!" Melinoë laughed as the family gathered downstairs, everybody dressed up. Harry flushed a little at this.

Nicholas and Perenelle were beaming at their godly friends, the young Mistress of Death, the disguised Gargouille and the last Gaunt scion. "You all look absolutely amazing!" Nicholas gushed. "Melanie, you look so much like your mother."

The Goddess of Ghosts flushed. Ironically enough, Tosti had been assigned Attendant of Hades and Melinoë thus decided to dress as her mother Persephone's handmaiden but apparently she looked more like Persephone herself! Harry could not help but smile at that thought.

As for Tom, when she first saw his costume, Harry could admit that she had almost fainted. Not in the swoony way, but the panicky way, because the costume for the Wild Hunt looked freakishly similar to the uniform of the Death Eaters she had to face in her original timeline. True, Tom looked handsome in it, but the Lady Regnant very nearly had a heart attack out of fright.

It was a good thing that Athenaïs looked criminally adorable as an undead Hound. That had saved Harry the ignominy of actually fainting.

"Remember to have some fun. Thomas, I hope you will not be a wallflower," Perenelle continued. "Tom, do not worry about Frey. I will keep an eye on her."

"Thank you, Perrie," Tom smiled as Thanatos opened the Floo Network, which had been made untraceable by Lord and Lady Malfoy, and Hypnos stepped into it first, looking a little nervous, which made Harry giggle to herself.

A god nervous about taking the Floo Network. Never in a million years did Harry think she would ever see that sight!

One by one the unique Peverell family stepped into the fireplace, took some Floo Powder, stated "Malfoy Manor!", and were transported to the place Harry thought she would never come back to, let alone attend a party there. Harry was rather happy that she didn't stumble out again – it seemed she was finally getting the hang of this stupid travel method!

Tom would have been able to save her from humiliation though, because he had waited to help her step down from the slightly raised fireplace. Harry saw that Mr. Rowle – dressed in a Wild Hunt costume with an aloof dog next to him, dressed as a Hound – and Altair – who was dressed in dark blue robes, embroidered with intricate frost-like patterns, with an ice-covered staff that looked a little like a shepherd's crook.

Harry flushed a little. He really made a fetching Jack Frost.

Altair at present was greeting a very excited Athenaïs. "Wow, Atty! Your costume looks even better in person. You ready to have some fun?"

Athenaïs howled and chirped excitedly, causing him to laugh, and then she nudged him and pointed at his costume while howling mystically. Altair cocked his head at her. "What is it?"

Harry grinned. "She says your costume looks very pretty and that it suits you very well."

Altair beamed. "Really?"

The Gargouille nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, thank you!"

"Harry, Tom, Altair!" Melinoë called to them. "We have to go through security. We cannot hang around here too long. There are more families that need to get through and we don't want to be in their way."

The trio and the Gargouille followed the adults to where there were several security guards waiting to check their wands, then place them in safe-keeping boxes and then check their cloaks and even the inside of their boots. Harry was secretly very happy she only brought Evren's violin and her lantern because the security only gave them a quick look over before giving them back to her. Tom and Altair were not happy about having to leave their wands in the custody of security but they kept their displeasure until they were out of earshot of the intimidating men and women.

"This is ridiculously over the top," Altair complained. "Taking wands out of the equation is not going to stop someone from throwing a chair or throwing a punch."

"Indeed," Tom agreed crisply.

Harry said nothing; she simply exchanged a look with Thanatos, Hypnos and Melinoë. Hopefully they would soon get to know if anyone came with a second wand or not. The Lady Regnant was a little sorry that she had deliberately kept her lovers in the dark, but she needed to make sure that certain reactions were natural to them.

"I am completely out of my depth," Mr. Rowle commented as they followed a party of masked guests, who were busy talking animatedly with each other, towards the ballroom.

"Agreed," Hypnos concurred immediately.

"Yeah, I think this may be the last pureblood event I will attend for a while," Harry added with nervous laughter. "I think I will find a nice curtain to hide behind."

"I'll join you," Thanatos stated.

Melinoë rolled her eyes. "No, you will not! You will be fine. It's not like we're going into battle."

"Yeah, because going to battle is less scary than this!" Harry shot back. "In battle, you have a clear enemy. Hit the other side of the battlefield; here, you don't know who is a potential friend or a potential foe unless you have some kind of acquaintance. It is a living hell!"

"Absolutely," Mr. Rowle agreed readily. "I should have gone to Japan with Oscar and Satoshi."

Altair regarded the Lady Peverell and her allies with a look of almost disbelieving amusement. "None of you like the spotlight, do you?" he asked in a tone that was curious but also tentative.

"I hate it," Rollo admitted readily. "I dread the day I become Lord Rowle. I don't want the damn title. It should be Ophelia's but my uncle … is old fashioned and doesn't believe our House could be sufficiently lead by a woman."

Harry snorted at that. "Then he probably hates my guts already!"

"He does not hate you, my Lady," Rollo informed her. "But he does hold some suspicion towards you."

"As expected," Harry commented, most to herself.

"Well, we will just try and avoid them," Melinoë stated brightly. "I am going to have some fun and I suggest all of you try and do the same. It is Yule Eve!"

Harry tried to distract herself from her nerves as she looked at Altair. "Where are your parents? Are they here already?"

"No, Father wants to make a grand entrance, like many of the other pureblood clans," Altair scoffed. "Like they are part of some messed up pageant."

They then stepped into the grand ballroom. Harry could not help but stop in her tracks and gape. Candles and enchanted lights floated above their heads and everything was decorated by wreaths and boughs of holly and even ivy. There were guests mingling and dancing already, the band playing some very old timey instruments. Harpsichord and the hurdy gurdy were among them. Harry already saw members of the Black clan dancing, as well as Heron's parents. She saw the Rosiers, the Mulcibers, the Dolohovs and the flame red hair of two people she assumed were Weasleys. There were two thrones raised on a dais, carved entirely from holly wood. Behind them was a humongous Yule tree. The whole room was so light it was almost blinding.

"Whoa," she stated breathlessly, barely daring to blink.

"Yeah, the Malfoys go all out every year," Tom chuckled at her expression. "They really have outdone themselves this time, I have to say."

A knot of fear coiled around her stomach at this point. It had just hit her how many people there were in the room. One slip up, one wrong move and it would be noted the length of the British Isles! That alone suddenly instilled a lot of anxiety in her, something Athenaïs noticed immediately because the Gargouille nudged her Witch gently.

It seemed that her fear was noted by her suitors too. Because after exchanging a knowing look with Altair, Tom took her right hand and gently squeezed it. "Harry, it's OK. Breathe – in and out. It's OK. We're here, your family is here. Everything will be all right."

Harry took a few deep breaths, nodded despondently and cautiously followed Tom, Altair and her family into the room. Fortunately, it seemed that perhaps the Malfoys had foreseen that the Lady Regnant would be hit quite hard by the culture shock because Lord and Lady Malfoy, who had been greeting some other guests, came over, dressed all in red and green with holly crowns on their heads.

"Messrs Burke, Miss Rollins – Rollo, I am so glad you decided to come this year," Lady Malfoy gushed. She then turned her attention onto Harry, Tom and Altair and immediately her hands went to her mouth momentarily. "My, my, I hate to toot my own horn but you three suit your themes impeccably! Loreley was absolutely right. My Lady, you look divine! Mr. Riddle, you look dashing – Heir Nott, I do believe if I didn't know better, I would say that you are Jack Frost himself."

Harry flushed in embarrassment, as did Tom and Altair. It was the latter who managed to speak first. "You are too kind, Lady Malfoy."

"Too kind! That would be a first," Lady Malfoy joked. She then gasped when she saw Athenaïs. "Oh I am risking turning into Melania, I know, but you, little Miss Athenaïs, are absolutely adorable!"

The Gargouille preened happily, chirping ethereally.

"Praxilla, my dear, I think it is best not to overwhelm the guests who are not used to gatherings such as this," Harry never thought she would be as grateful as to a Lord Malfoy as she was to Brutus Malfoy for intervening at that point. There was a hint of a smile on his face. "Would you allow me to do the honours of showing you the ropes, my Lady?"

Thank Merlin's saggy balls! her Gryffindor voice sighed in relief.

Harry congratulated herself for managing to keep her composure. "Of course, sir."

Lord Malfoy gave her a quick, genuine smile before composing his countenance once more. "Most of the Heirs, including Abraxas and Loreley, are in the next room – we have set up several buffet tables because we know how ravenous teenagers get. However, each one had to go through the 'quick mingle' as Loreley nicknamed it."

"Quick mingle," Harry repeated.

"Meeting one or two important guests," Altair translated. "Tedious small talk."

"Indeed, so let us pick someone who is unlikely to be of tedious company," Lord Malfoy stated in a jovial, conspiratorial tone. "I have just the person in mind. Do you trust me?"

Harry took a fortifying breath and nodded. Lord Malfoy beamed and led her towards a large group of people, most of them bodyguards who were forced to drink something and look like they were having fun. The people amongst them who were having fun were two men in their forties and two women perhaps in their thirties. The quartet stopped their guffawing as Lord Malfoy approached.

One of the men, with strawberry blonde hair, grinned at him. "Ah, Brutus! Just the man. You witnessed Arcturus Black the Elder's humiliating defeat at the hands of the young Prewetts first hand! Is it really true that the old dog lost five hundred Galleons in one game?"

"David, hush!" the other man chuckled. The man then noticed Tom and Altair, a beaming smile spreading onto his countenance. "Heir Nott! I am delighted to see you. The handsome gentleman next to you must be Tom Riddle."

"Yes, sir," Tom and Altair smiled charmingly.

Harry tried not to roll her eyes at his schmoozing behaviour. She didn't see any reason to be coddling up to this man. The gentleman then lit up when he looked at her and turned to Lord Malfoy. "So this is her?"

"Indeed, Leonard," Lord Malfoy chuckled. He turned to Harry. "Lady Hera, may I introduce you to Mr. Leonard Spencer-Moon, our current Minister for Magic and a dear friend of mine?"

Harry tried not to gulp as the man bowed to her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you at last," the Minister for Magic stated with a smile. "I have heard many tales about you from Brutus and Praxilla. Oh yes – before I forget, all three of you have the warmest of congratulations from my friend Winston Churchill and indeed the King himself."

Harry paled even further at this. "Thank you, sir," she managed to answer without her voice shaking too much.

"Thank you, sir!" Tom and Altair were by far the most overtly happy.

Mr. Spencer-Moon turned to his companions. "May I introduce to you David Horner, the Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation; my Senior Undersecretary Melissa Shelby and her wife, Ingrid Shelby."

The other three people bowed and curtseyed to her, Mr. Horner and Mrs. Melissa Shelby's eyes dancing with amusement. Harry bowed her head in acknowledgement, utterly at a loss what to say or do. It seemed to be noticed by the seasoned politicians.

"My Lady, perhaps you can settle a small debate we have been having," Mrs. Melissa Shelby grinned.

Harry swallowed a little. "What is the dilemma?" she asked carefully.

"Well, our friend the Head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports wishes to add magical auto racing to our sporting repertoire," Mrs. Shelby informed her. "Muggles have been doing it since 1895 and our dear Albert went to a race once and came back besotted with the idea of competitive magical car racing." She gestured to Mr. Horner. "David is daft enough to think it is a good idea while I think it is utterly absurd and Leonard obstinately refuses to give an opinion!"

Harry blinked a couple of times in pure shock. "Are you serious?" she couldn't help asking.

"Unfortunately," Mrs. Ingrid Shelby huffed. "What is your take on it, my Lady?"

For once, Harry was actually happy Vernon and Dudley had been Formula 1 fans for a while in order to get a better in with Vernon's bosses. She smiled slightly. "I think the Muggle sport is already dangerous enough as it is. The drivers are barely given protection and crashes can be fatal and even if measures would be taken, the speeds at which they go already makes the sport ridiculously lethal. It's pure madness."

"We have spells for protection, little Lady," Mr. Horner pointed out.

"And that is still no guarantee," Harry countered easily. "I think if you really want a new racing sport, stick to brooms, Abraxans or kelpies if you can get them not to drown you-"

"Kelpies?" Mrs. Melissa Shelby repeated.

"Just throwing out ideas. Would be kind of fun to watch underwater horse races with some interesting circuits. Swimming races even. I would watch a few of those," Harry shrugged. "No offense, sir, but if you want a suicidal option, why don't you try dragon racing? I think it is best to allow the Muggles to keep their suicidal sports, and we simply get our own."

There was a moment of a stunned silence before the Minister and his party started to laugh heartily.

"The girl has wit," Mrs. Melissa Shelby commented.

"And humour!" Mr. Horner chuckled. "Dragon races! I can honestly say I have never heard anyone make that suggestion before."

Harry smiled smally. "The point I am trying to make is, if you introduce car racing to our world, you not only risk alienating important allies who may be opposed but you are effectively trying to imitate Muggle culture." Her smile only grew. "The Muggle and magical worlds share a lot in terms of culture but I think we need to avoid blurring the lines. It will take the fun out of both worlds! I don't know about you but I rather like the fact there are unique differences between us and them."

Minister Spencer-Moon regarded her with amusement before he looked to Mr. Horner. "Her Ladyship makes a very good case there."

"Indeed!" Mr. Horner was forced to agree. "Are you sure that you do not wish to have a career in politics rather than Cursebreaking?"

"Perhaps one day. Right now, I have no appetite for it," the Lady Regnant responded candidly.

"Pity," Mrs. Ingrid Shelby smiled at her. "The Wizengamot could use a spitfire like you."

"Frankly, ma'am, currently I think I'd give everyone a headache on day one," Harry commented bluntly, causing Mr. Horner to chuckle again.

The man then clapped his hands together and rubbed them together. "Who is up for a game of cards? Brutus, my friend?"

"Absolutely," Lord Malfoy, who up until now had watched the interactions between the Minister and his friends, and Harry, with silent fascination, agreed readily, pulling up a chair.

"Do you play cards, Lady Hera?" Mrs. Melissa Shelby asked, as she shuffled a deck of playing cards.

"Absolutely not, except perhaps Exploding Snap," Harry replied candidly.

"Do you have an aversion to it?" Mr. Horner wanted to know.

"No, it simply does not interest me."

"So, what does interest you?" Mrs. Ingrid Shelby continued the questioning.

Do not reveal your hand too early; keep your cards hidden, Queen Anne's advice rang in her ears. Harry had enough of their interest; now it was time to mellow herself down a bit.

"Reading, drawing, music, swimming, flying," Harry listed flippantly. "Duelling is also quite fun."

"Ah yes, I remember! Hesper Black mentioned that you and Heir Black are the season commentators," the Senior Undersecretary lit up. "You had the whole school, her husband included, in stitches and almost gave Albus Dumbledore a heart attack because you were 'biased'."

Harry snorted. "Ma'am, if you had been in my position and had seen Beaters take out members of their own team, you would have called them out on it as well."

"Oh absolutely! But I seem to recall that was one of your more milder moments," the woman's bright pearly eyes sparkled with mirth,

"Understatement, ma'am," Altair grinned.

The Moirai had apparently decided that Harry could be rescued at this point because Loreley Malfoy, dressed in a beautiful blood red gown with a holly circlet fixed in her hair, practically floated over. Harry almost flushed at the sight of her; the Malfoy heiress looked like Aurora in the flesh. Loreley flashed her friend a winning smile as she looped her arm around Harry's.

"My Lady, you look absolutely stunning!" Loreley beamed fully.

"Thanks to you," Harry huffed slightly.

Loreley then turned her attention on Tom and Altair and nodded approvingly. "You boys look very handsome! And Athenaïs – you make a very adorable Hound."

Kyyuuuooo!

The Malfoy heiress looked to her father and the party playing cards. "May I steal the Lady Hera and her knights away? I am sure they are rather hungry and our friends are hoovering up the food, as Billy Prewett would say."

"You may steal her if the Lady Hera agrees to dance the Cotillion with me," Mrs. Ingrid Shelby piped up.

Harry, who had not expected that at all, tried to keep her composure as she dipped her head. "I would be honoured."

Loreley guided her friend away, Tom and Altair following closely behind. Athenaïs, though decided to stay behind. Harry then looked at Tom and Altair. "Do either of you mind that I said yes?"

"No," both boys chorused immediately.

"Harry, this is a good moment to get to know our society a bit better," Altair added. "Just – if you don't feel like dancing – be very mindful about how you turn someone down."

"Of course," Harry exhaled sharply.

"You at least made a good impression on the Minister and three of his closest allies," Tom informed her, looking – of all things – proud of her. "Lord Malfoy decided to throw you into the deep end and you swam like a fish in water."

"I felt like I was drowning," was Harry's immediate answer.

"You weren't," Altair reassured her. "If you were drowning, they would not have offered you to join them."

The out-of-depth Lady Regnant was soon distracted by the buffet room, which was filled by tables and chairs and several tables full of food and drink of almost rainbow colours. There were several giant centrepieces made of ice, much like the ones that had been at the Hogwarts Yule Ball during her original timeline.

"Harry! Merlin, that dress looks even better in real life," Walburga had hurried over the moment she saw them. She quickly appraised Tom and Altair too, nodding in approval. "You boys look extremely dapper."

"Thank you, Black," Tom answered, eyes dancing with amusement.

"So, tell me," Walburga guided them towards the tables in the back where Harry's girls sans Druella, Orion, Artemis, Heron, Malum, Felix and Dolohov were sitting with the Weasley twins, Cederella, Lucretia, Ignatius, Tessa and Billy. "Has our Lady Regnant got an offer to dance yet?"

Harry blanched at this.

"She has. Mrs. Ingrid Shelby," Loreley informed serenely.

Walburga's eyes lit up. "For the Cotillion, I hope?"

"Yes," Altair confirmed.

"Oh thank Merlin!" the Black heiress sighed with relief.

"Wally, give her space to breathe would you?" Ophelia grinned.

"So, you survived the obligatory small talk," Felix grinned as Harry, Tom, Altair, Loreley and Walburga joined them.

"Just about," Harry confirmed weakly as she sipped the water in front of her. She then frowned as she backtracked in her mind and then looked between Cederella and Septimus before cocking her head slightly at them. "Are you two escorting each other?"

Cederella and Septimus flushed almost in sync before everyone started giggling and laughing at their expense.

"Indeed they are," Ignatius confirmed with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Since when?" for the first time since she arrived, Harry physically lit up.

"Well," Septimus cleared his throat. "We got talking at Lucretia's Presentation, as you know, and we just didn't stop talking I guess."

His ears were turning red at this point.

Harry chuckled. "I am happy for you. What do your families say?"

"My mother is bloody relieved, despite the fact there is an age difference between us," Cederella admitted. "Father laughed and started joking about grandkids with red hair, as I expected he would."

"Our parents are fuming," the twins chorused.

Septimus added with a grin. "Nothing they can do about it, though. I no longer have to listen to them on the matter of courting."

"Out of curiosity, who did Lord Malfoy drag you to meet?" Octavius asked eagerly.

Harry flushed. "The Minister for Magic and his party."

"Seriously?" Dolohov looked slightly envious. "You really do have all the luck."

"Not really. I was scared out of my wits," Harry responded candidly. She showed him her shaking hands. "I still haven't fully recovered."

"Excalibur and Clarent, you're actually shaking!" Tessa gasped, eyes wide and her hand over her mouth.

"Oh Harry," Ygraine's eyes softened with sympathy. "It stressed you out this much?"

"I think I underestimated just how many guests were invited," Harry wilted a little. "I also didn't think Lord Malfoy would introduce me to the most politically powerful wizard in the damn country!"

"Why not? Minister Spencer-Moon has been rather looking forward to it," Malum informed her. "My parents betted whether it would be Lord Malfoy who would introduce you to him or the Minister would have come over himself."

Harry blanched. "Why?! There are so many more interesting people to meet."

"Nope, everyone practically knows everyone by now," Billy contradicted brightly. "You are a foreigner with a title and growing reputation as a Cursebreaker. You are literally the most interesting person at this Ball!"

"Kill me," Harry muttered.

"My goodness, you really do hate attention, don't you?" Lucretia Black shook her head at the strange Lady Regnant.

"Loathe is a better word," the Traveller responded crisply as she stood up to go and plate some food. Lucretia and Cederella decided to join her.

"We were told already, but, I hope you don't take offense when I admit that I didn't believe it," Cederella confessed as Harry immediately gravitated towards the treacle tart.

"Why is it so difficult to believe?" Harry asked curiously as she plated a tart.

"I don't know," Cederella admitted. "When Orion introduced us, you carried yourself with ease. I have no idea how to describe it but I felt compelled to give you a fraction of my attention. You're a strange contradiction: you are open and honest and yet you prefer your privacy and to stay hidden in a corner. You're a Lady Regnant yet you don't seem to be too keen on claiming your seat in the Wizengamot."

"Orion and Walburga told me a lot about your aversion to attention that you feel you don't deserve, or even want," Lucretia continued. "They told me about your treacle tart obsession too."

Harry flushed sheepishly. The Black heiress continued. "Look, I am not going to pretend that I understand the horrors you had to endure. There will be those who are interested in you for their own ends; that's politics I am afraid. But you can use that to your advantage too. You can hate it all you want, but try not to let them see it."

Lucretia secretly thought she was perhaps overstepping the line, borderline lecturing a Lady Regnant. Cederella clearly thought so too because she was giving Lucretia a pointed look. However, the smile that grew on Harry's face told them otherwise. "You sound like someone I know."

Neither Lucretia nor Cederella dared to ask who. The Lady Regnant promptly turned the attention onto something safer: gossip. Both Blacks happily obliged, dishing out the observations they had made on each new arriving guest. The new rising tensions between the Averys, Mulcibers and Dolohovs, the new civility between the Malfoys, Septimus and Octavius, the growing hostility of Light families to the twins and Artemis and the eagerness to meet the enigmatic strangers that were Harry and her family were the main topics. Lucretia and Cederella even told some funny, embarrassing stories about some of Harry's friends that cracked the Lady Regnant up.

Very soon, Mrs. Ingrid Shelby came to collect Harry for their agreed dance. Artemis and Heron, Ignatius and Lucretia, Malum and Ophelia, Octavius and Tessa, Tom and Loreley, and Orion and Walburga followed closely behind. Their group were amongst the first couples on the dance floor, and Harry felt the nerves of the previous Yule Ball hit her like a freight train. It didn't help that the rest of her friends came to watch from the side lines too.

She forced herself to focus on her breathing and the life forces in the room to stop herself from losing control again. Her dance partner was fortunately very patient with her. "Just focus on the music and the dance," Mrs. Shelby whispered in her ear. "You'll be fine."

Harry had never been so thankful to Druella's dancing lessons. Though Mrs. Shelby took the lead, the Lady Regnant found herself being able to mirror her moves almost effortlessly, enjoying the music and almost forgetting there was others in the room. Even through the allemande, promenade and moulinet changes, Harry didn't even stumble once. It helped that Ignatius, Malum and Heron, her partners through the respectively changes, also knew how to keep her distracted from that layer of trepidation, even getting her to laugh.

At the end, after Heron and Harry had bowed and curtseyed to each other, Mrs. Shelby came to express her gratitude as they moved out of the way for the next dance. "Thank you so much for obliging me, my Lady. That was a lot fun!"

"Indeed it was!" Harry didn't even try to control her smile. "You dance very well, ma'am."

"So do you! I think I need a drink after that," Mrs. Shelby curtseyed and left to get a beverage from the next room.

It was at this point that Artemis practically ran over, her pallor deathly pale. "Harry … oh Merlin, how could I be so stupid to forget … Harry, my family are coming – all of them!"

Harry's heart skipped several beats, knowing immediately who Artemis was alluding to. The friends who overheard, were already working on creating a buffer. Tom and Altair – who had watched from the side lines – were at her side in a flash.

"Should we quickly head back to the buffet room? Or the garden?" Orion suggested.

"Too late," Artemis groaned. "They're here."

Indeed, a clan with men who had curly, uncontrollable hair and dark eyes with daughters who had similarly wild hair. The wives were distinguished by their blonde hair and-or styled and controllable hair. Like Artemis, they were all dressed in silver. At the front of the clan was a man Harry assumed was Fleamont: he was in his early forties with a haughty arrogance to him. Her father James had definitely inherited Fleamont's face shape as well as eye colour and shape. Harry saw Charlus and Dorea directly following, Charlus looking none too happy. Artemis' father and stepmother were directly behind them, followed by Hecuba – who looked like she would rather be out in the field than at this party – and Electra.

Lord and Lady Malfoy were there to welcome them. "Fleamont! For a moment you Potters had us worried you would not attend this year after all," Lord Malfoy quipped in a faux jovial tone.

"What an absurd notion," Fleamont responded easily, smirking. "You really are getting some funny ideas in your old age, Brutus."

"So my children also tell me," Brutus Malfoy shot back coolly, which momentarily wiped the smirk off Fleamont's face.

Harry felt her Link open.

You think Fleamont wishes he had his wand on him? Thanatos waged.

Absolutely, Harry answered without hesitation.

Lord Malfoy composed himself. "Well, I hope you enjoy yourselves tonight. Euphemia, you look a picture as always. Charlus and Dorea, it is a pleasure! Henry and Eleanor, I am so glad to see you. Miss Hecuba and Miss Electra, welcome!"

The Auror and the investigative journalist curtseyed to their hosts but very quickly made their way over to where they saw Artemis, Heron and Harry. They deliberately avoided anyone who was an eligible bachelor that their father would theoretically insist they talk to as they made their way over.

"Sister, be glad you were not at home!" Electra stated as they drew closer. "I swear Eleanor and Aunt Euphemia were about to rip each other's throats out over a damn pearl necklace. A good thing Dorea was there to keep an eye on them." She then noticed Harry and gaped. "Merlin and Morgana … you were not kidding about the likeness being uncanny, Hecuba."

Harry flushed. "Good evening, Mistress Electra."

"Lady Hera," Electra dipped a deep curtsey and rose elegantly.

Hecuba smiled apologetically at Harry. "How are you, my Lady?"

"Very well, thank you, Auror Potter. Yourselves?" the Lady Regnant responded diplomatically.

Henry Potter's eldest daughter smiled smally this time. "We are quite well, and please, I am not on duty. Call me Hecuba."

"And I prefer to only be addressed as Electra," the journalist added. "How is your evening so far?"

"Already eventful," was the candid answer that came out of Harry's mouth, which made her friends chuckle. "Only had one dance set, though."

"Sorry to hear that?" Hecuba had no idea how to answer that.

"Oh don't worry about it. Don't particularly like dancing," Harry reassured easily. "How is work?"

Hecuba blinked once in surprise but smiled. "Busy. We are swamped with cases at the moment as well as doing odd jobs that get asked of us by Mr. Churchill. I am lucky to get a few days off."

"I did say that taking a job as an Auror will result you in being silver by age thirty," Electra teased.

"Oh please, your job is not much better, sis," Artemis rolled her eyes.

"Fair enough," Electra admitted sheepishly.

"What are you currently working on?" Harry asked curiously.

Electra's eyes shone. "Top secret, I am afraid, but all I can say is this – this project could make or break my career!"

"So this is the famous Cursebreaker whose name has been flying around."

The Potter heiresses, the Traveller and her friends tensed in an instant when they realised Fleamont and Euphemia Potter had approached at this point, butting into the conversation without so much as a formal greeting. A sickly feeling once more entered Harry's stomach. Tom and Altair took one hand each and squeezed it before letting go just in case someone asked why they reacted in that way.

"Hello, sir," Harry tried to keep her tone as civil as possible.

Fleamont, ignoring the dark looks he was getting from the Lady Hera's friends, studied her closely, his eyes narrowing at least twice. "You have something … familiar about you," he informed her candidly. "Not just because you remind me of Artemis. It's your eyes. There's … something in your eyes that I have seen before but I can't seem to place."

The Lady Regnant swallowed a little but then a small smirk etched onto her face.

"What is it? Is it the ghosts of my past?" Harry could not help but quip. She had no idea why her confidence suddenly returned; perhaps it was Fleamont Potter's genuinely annoying demeanour? "I did tell them not to go swimming today. My apologies if they freaked you out."

Fleamont's eyes darkened at this. Apparently, he did not have much of a sense of humour. "Watch your tongue, girl."

"My Lady," his nieces corrected coldly. The hostility of the others increased too.

"It is you who should watch your tongue to her," Artemis added fiercely. "Plus, we were having a conversation that you just butted into without so much as saying an 'excuse me'!"

Euphemia placed a hand on her husband's arm. "My dear, I think it is best we go and see Fabian and Gyda. I don't believe we are welcome here." Lady Potter smiled smally as she looked at Harry and dipped a curtsey. "Apologies for any offence or disturbance that we may have caused, my Lady."

Harry's expression softened slightly. "It's forgiven."

Euphemia Potter had the common sense to drag her husband towards the Weasleys before he could say or do anything else. Henry Potter's daughters scoffed in tandem, wearing disgusted expressions that looked exactly the same.

"It is times like these I am happy Uncle Fleamont has no children yet," Hecuba seethed quietly.

"I dread any child that man might beget," Electra commented bluntly, which made a good deal of Harry's friends tense up slightly. "They will just turn into an arrogant, self-centred toerag like he is."

It seems Snape and Electra would have gotten on, Harry snidely stated in her head to herself. But she couldn't exactly disagree.

It was at this point Eleanor and Dorea Potter came to collect Hecuba and Electra, apparently to introduce them to 'friends of theirs'. Hecuba and Electra, both of whom were not born yesterday, saw right through the pretence.

"Eleanor, I refuse to meet another of Father's friends' sons who does nothing but file paper work and runs errands for his superiors!" Hecuba complained. "The last one was as dull as powder."

"I promise this one is more amusing," Eleanor Potter bribed with a small smile, careful to conceal her canines. "Please, Hecuba? For the sake of Yuletide peace?"

Hecuba groaned but dejectedly followed her stepmother anyway. Dorea was having a little more trouble convincing Electra to meet a potential suitor because the journalist was actually trying to escape towards the buffet room with Dorea in hot pursuit.

"Electra, you are acting like a child!"

"Dorea, I will meet someone eventually and if I don't, whoop-de-doo I am not a wife or a mother. At least I will have my career! Besides, Artemis will give Father enough grandbabies to spoil. Leave me alone!"

Harry could not help but giggle at the antics of the Potter family; Artemis had her head in her hands.

"Oh Merlin, that was too close for comfort," Ophelia stated in a low tone so that only their group could hear her. "I cannot believe that Lord Potter acted in such an atrocious manner!"

"We should count ourselves lucky he is that arrogant or his memory would have been jogged," Orion was actually fanning himself with Walburga's fan at this point.

"I'll admit, I barely dared to breathe," Malum agreed.

Unfortunately, the group of Heirs and Heiresses were not given much time to recuperate because it was soon Altair's turn to want to try and escape. Lord Nott arrived not long after the Potters, Lady Nott once again not looking as assertive or confident as other Lady Consorts. Harry also noticed that Altair's mother's dress was not as fine or flashy as the dresses of the women who followed close behind. One of them was Diantha Underwood, recognisable by her short brown hair and blue eyes – Harry recognised her from the journals she read. The woman next to her, Harry assumed was Anne. The woman had auburn waves and carried herself with grace, seemingly ignoring all the stares of adoration her sister was getting.

"It would seem that Lord Nott spared expenses when it came to his wife again," Octavius commented coldly. "No offense, Nott, but I think your father is a disgrace."

"You share my sentiments," Altair growled.

Fortunately the last dance was finished and couples were already heading onto the ballroom floor again for a Viennese waltz, including the Mrs. Shelbys, Lord and Lady Black, Minister Spencer-Moon and Lady Malfoy, and Rollo with Ophelia's mother. Harry shoved her trepidation back into her mental forest as she took Altair's hand and started leading him towards the dance floor, much to his own surprise after handing her violin over to Dolohov, who blinked in surprise but quickly cradled the precious instrument close to him.

"But Harry, you hate dancing," Altair pointed out.

"True, but I hate seeing you miserable even more," was Harry's blunt answer.

Very soon, the rest of the group decided to join in too. Orion rescued Druella from another dance with Cygnus, Walburga dragged Alphard away from the punch to dance, Tom asked Melinoë for a dance, which the Goddess of Ghosts readily agreed to, and Septimus and Cederella readily took to the floor too. Malum and Ophelia partnered up again as did Artemis and Heron. Ygraine saved Abraxas from his father. Octavius and Lucretia followed; Ignatius had decided to save Tessa when their mother had called to her to come over. Loreley also pre-emptively saved Felix from his father introducing him to some eligible pureblood heiress. Only Arcturus and Dolohov were left to watch, which neither seemed to mind too much since they were on Guard Evren's Violin duty.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Altair whispered in her ear as they took their positions.

Harry smiled wryly. "Yes."

It was much easier to focus on the music, the dance and her partner this time round. Altair had clearly been to more than one ball in his life and had some seriously skilled dance tutors because he was not only an effortless dancer but he was a flawless leader. Harry was glad she was more than capable of keeping in time with him, but still felt incredibly clumsy in comparison. Apparently some of the audience didn't think so because the Lady Regnant did hear slivers of comments on her 'nice posture' and the gown whose phoenixes seemingly flew around her dress with each twirl she made, leaving 'black fire' in their wake.

Thanatos and Hypnos felt a little overwhelmed by the compliments they were receiving on Harry's behalf, which made Sirius Black II, Hesper and Lycoris – with whom they had been in conversation – chuckle. Indeed, it was also difficult to say whether Mattheo Nott was more pleased by the praises he was receiving about his son or more irritated that Altair was at the centre of those exaltations.

Lord Malfoy, who never let an opportunity to make a snide remark to his rivals go, smirked slightly. "Your son is a credit to House Nott. You must be very proud, Mattheo."

"I am," Mattheo Nott lied effortlessly. "Thank you, Brutus."

Lord Malfoy wanted to scoff but kept himself composed. "It's just as well. You have no other children to fall back on had your heir proven to be a … disappointment. But apparently your decision to only have one child was fortuitous after all!"

Lady Nott had flushed at this in embarrassment, making sure not to make any kind of eye contact with her husband, whose eyes had darkened dangerously.

The dancers didn't note the growing tension until perhaps afterwards. In order to avoid a food fight or a boxing match of any kind, Harry, Altair, Arcturus, Dolohov and several of their friends escaped into one of the entertainment rooms where there were several groups of people chatting and playing games. While the Heirs began to mingle, Harry, Druella, Ophelia and Tessa made themselves at home on two of the many sofas in the room.

"Riddle and the others have some nerve staying in that room," Druella commented.

"It's a good thing the Malfoys have everyone's wands locked up," Ophelia agreed.

"Someone needs to remind Lord Nott Yule spirit still exists," Harry added, scoffing as she shook her head.

"You girls hiding?"

The Lady Regnant and the three Heiresses looked at the approaching woman, who was sipping from a whiskey flask. She was dressed in a manner akin to an ice bird of some kind; the dress was very flattering and elegant, Harry noted. The woman had chestnut brown hair, pale skin, an almost permanent smile on her face and grey eyes that had a glint of amusement.

"Madam Urquhart," Tessa greeted with a polite dip of the head. "Hiding would be an accurate assessment. My parents are relentless this year, especially since Ignatius was accepted by Lucretia."

"Ah yes! I read about that in The Court of Britain. My most sincere congratulations," Madam Urquhart beamed. "Might I join you for a moment? I need a momentary reprieve from my own party."

"Of course," Druella answered civilly.

"Thank you," Madam Urquhart took the armchair with a contented sigh. "I do wish Lord and Lady Malfoy would limit their invitation list for one year. I am positively boiling!"

As the Minor Noble began fanning herself with her hand, Ophelia looked at Harry. "My Lady, may we introduce to you Helena Urquhart, Heiress Presumptive of House Urquhart? Madam Urquhart, this is the Lady Hera Evans."

Helena Urquhart lit up. "The young Cursebreaker who saved Hogwarts from Dementors? So the rumours I have been hearing are true?"

Harry flushed a little. "Yes, I'm afraid so, ma'am."

"Good gracious. I can definitely see why House Black took such a shine to you," the woman took another swig from her flask. "Naturally I know there are other reasons as well but you truly are a breath of fresh air. We need that – the air has grown quite stale of late, and it isn't just the factory fumes and whatnot. The social landscape has become dull and grey."

The Traveller cocked her head at this uncharacteristically blunt woman. Perhaps she had a little too much to drink? Helena didn't seem remotely drunk or tipsy though. "I have heard some things about you as well, Madam Urquhart. Your passion for Abraxans, art and your anti-familiar breeding campaigns."

Helena chuckled at that. "Indeed. Shocking, is it not? To advocate against breeding animals and magical creatures for the sole purpose of bonding with us, without choosing to," she sneered. Ophelia's lips pursed at this; the Rowle heiress was definitely trying to keep her opinions to herself.

"On the contrary, I believe freedom of choice is very important," Harry responded jovially. "My own familiar chose me, after all. She was wild, but chose me anyway."

Helena's interest was apparently piqued further. "So you know of the complications that can arise in breeding familiars? The horrors that can arise during breeding for aesthetics and certain traits only?"

"I am aware of them," Harry answered. She had seen first-hand, thanks to Aunt Marge. "Muggles do something similar with their dogs. In fact, humans as well. Especially Royal and noble families, which is why so many of them had health issues. Have you heard of the diseases haemophilia and porphyria?"

Madam Urquhart leant forwards slightly. "No, I haven't but I would like to know."

"Well, these diseases arose due to inbreeding," Harry explained. "It was bad before the Victorian era but it got worse during and after. You see, Queen Victoria had so many children and grandchildren who married into the Royal Families of Europe, which ensured that the Royal Houses quickly became more family of each other than before. It meant that pickings of Royal and noble brides suddenly included more first cousins. Haemophilia and porphyria were inherited diseases so could sporadically pop up. Haemophilia is a disorder that impairs the body's ability to make blood clots which can cause unexplained bleeding, nose bleeds, pain, swelling – it's downright unpleasant and there is no cure. Only treatment but even that is barely extant. Porphyria isn't any better. It is a set of inherited blood disorders that cause severe pain in the abdomen, chest, legs, back, nausea, vomiting, high blood pressure, blood in urine and has no cure either. Both are life threatening too."

All the pureblood heiresses gaped.

"That is horrible," Druella stated candidly.

"Yep," Harry agreed. "Which is why I was a little shocked when I first heard Orion was engaged to Walburga and that the Blacks have no issue marrying their own cousins."

"But the Blacks don't have those diseases in the family as far as I know," Ophelia frowned.

"Apart from the famous Black Madness," Tessa pointed out.

"That's true," Druella concurred heavily.

"But you see, there are similar issues in familiar breeding," Helena brought the topic back on track. "Complications during birth, health complications throughout the familiar's life – it is just cruel."

"And what do you propose as an alternative?" Ophelia wanted to know, raising an eyebrow. "For us all to go into the wild and hope to Merlin and Morgana an animal will find it in their spirit to bond with us?"

"At least the familiar will have a say in the matter," was Helena's simple answer.

"They do have a say in the matter! No one can force a familiar bond," Ophelia countered. "Familiar breeding ensures that there is potential for every witch or wizard to have one."

"Yes, your mother is very diligent with that, I heard," Helena smiled. "Alas, that is not the case with all familiar breeders. Some do it for a profit, completely disregarding the health of the familiars involved."

"Which is vile," Ophelia concurred, her tone and expression softening.

"At last, something we can agree on," the strange pureblood heiress stated jovially as she took another swig from her flask.

"Have you found any good new talent in the art world, Madam Urquhart?" Tessa decided to switch the subject to something a little safer.

Helena sighed a little dramatically. "Oh my dear Heiress Prewett, do not get me started. One minute I like a piece and the next I can see nothing but its faults and then I change my mind back because I feel the fault adds something to the piece. I recently saw this landscape of a coastal town with a storm far out to sea but coming closer and closer – it filled me with such anticipation and dread and excitement because it felt like I was the one standing on the shore, awaiting my fate. I wanted to get my hands on it but someone had gotten there before me! I could have hexed the first person I met out of anger, I tell you."

It was at this point Orion came barrelling into the room. "Harry, you promised me a dance! I came to collect," he announced happily as he did so. Out of her peripheral vision, Harry noticed Helena frown slightly in irritation.

Harry rose to her feet and dipped her head at Helena. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Madam Urquhart."

"Likewise, my Lady. I hope we may meet again at some point," Helena smiled.

Harry didn't get to make a reply because Orion was already leading her out of the room, babbling away as he did so. "You are going to love this dance – Auretti's Dutch Skipper is really fun. How was Madam Urquhart? You didn't die of boredom almost, did you? That woman can easily put an entire room to sleep."

"Not this time. It was actually quite … interesting," Harry responded. "Mostly debating the anti-familiar breeding sentiments she has. We were onto art when you arrived."

"Urgh, Madam Urquhart has no taste in art," Orion's lip curled slightly in disgust. "How anyone can visit that gallery of hers is beyond me. Megara, Francis and Lyra can do better between them. But I suppose I do have a bit of an old fashioned taste. By the way, Alphard would like to dance the Pavane with you. Is that OK?"

"That is more than fine with me," Harry reassured with a grin as the pair lined up next to Felix and War – Harry was momentarily surprised to see her – and Mr. Horner with Melinoë.

The Auretti's Dutch Skipper was an active dance, so the Lady Regnant was rather surprised when Orion, War and Melinoë managed to dish the gossip they had gathered. Lady Black had managed to convince Tosti to dance, Hypnos and Rollo had both danced with Lady Nott, Tom managed to get a dance with Lycoris, Dolohov Senior and one John-Royston Macnair had made snide remarks about the Shelbys, and the Potters, Lestranges and Lord Nott had been peacock strutting for the Minister.

The usual, apparently.

"I swear we were not gone that long," was all Harry managed to comment.

"Oh trust me, the moment your back is turned, some other shit storm can occur," War told her candidly. "Welcome to wizarding Britain!"

That had all three couples chuckling.

By the end of the dance, Harry almost forgot she agreed to dance the Pavane next with Alphard, who eagerly came to collect when Orion informed him that she had agreed. She had wanted a moment to catch her breath but the Lady Regnant put on a brave face and followed the Auror onto the dance floor once more. Altair had been none too happy about seeing Alphard and Harry paired up, but none of his friends dared to ask him about his jealousy just in case he would do something stupid. Tom and Loreley had steered the Nott heir towards the Weasley twins, Ignatius, Lucretia, Cederella and some other pureblood heirs and heiresses to distract him.

It wasn't just Altair who seemed to have jealousy issues. After the Pavane, Harry escaped back to the buffet room to get some more food and take a break from being ogled while dancing as well as gather her breath. There were only a few people in there, but Dolohov was sitting alone with Evren's violin, stabbing his pudding with his spoon. The Lady Regnant frowned and didn't take long to decide to join him. After getting a treacle tart of course.

"OK, Captain Grumpy, why are you sitting here on your lonesome?" Harry asked jovially as she took a seat beside him.

"Hiding," Dolohov grumbled, not looking up. "From my father and from having to pretend that I don't want to leave."

Harry cocked at him. "Well, I understand that feeling – I just had to dance more times than I would like already and I felt like a fool doing it."

"You didn't look it, though," Dolohov reassured with a small smile, looking at her.

"Well, thank you," Harry smiled back. She nudged him gently. "Why do you want to leave?"

"Have a look," was all the Russian responded, nodding his head in the direction of the door.

The Lady Regnant frowned, got up, went to have a look and soon her eyes were drawn to the dance floor. She saw Arcturus dancing with another pureblood heiress; Harry had no idea who it was but that was not the point here. She returned to her seat and cut into her treacle tart.

"Do you always avoid seeing him dance?" Harry wanted to know.

"Yes," Dolohov confirmed. "Every single Yule Ball since fourth year."

Harry hummed ponderingly as she ate a mouthful of tart. Once she swallowed it, Harry turned to him. "Did you try to dance in order to avoid Arc?"

Dolohov scoffed. "That would insinuate that anyone willingly wanted to spend an evening with me. I only ever had an escort to the Hogwarts Yule Ball during fifth year and that was because everyone was scared shitless of the murder that happened. I didn't spend a moment longer with her than I needed to."

Harry nodded despondently. "From what I heard, that was some nasty business you guys had to go through."

"Not as bad as the shit you had to endure," Dolohov countered easily in a lowered tone. "But yeah … it wasn't pretty. I mean, I never liked Myrtle Warren – she was mopey and annoying – but no one deserved to die the way she did. In a fricking bathroom?" The Knight scoffed. "The only good thing that came out of it was that it became slightly more acceptable to talk about … unorthodox topics such as Darker branches of magic and the wars."

"Arcturus mentioned that he enjoyed that conversation," Harry nodded.

Dolohov smiled momentarily. "Yeah. We debated the different tactics used by each side, how we would have done things differently if it had been us; that kind of thing. We even tried to use some kind of psycho-analysis, as Tom called it, to try and see if we could predict the next moves of the Resistance and the Alliance. The … Generals too." Dolohov looked contrite at this point and spoke quietly. "We didn't think for a moment that a General could be no older than us."

"It's OK," Harry reassured gently. "We were an underground operation. I would be more worried if you did know."

The Russian regarded her for a moment and then lowered his tone. "You said you saw active duty since fourteen."

Harry's expression darkened slightly. "Yes."

"While we were all dealing with a murder and Hogwarts almost closing down, you were on a battlefield," Dolohov scoffed.

"It was mostly training, avoiding the demon toad and dealing with the fact Ron's father got attacked whilst guarding something the Dark Lord wanted," Harry stated lightly. "It was preparation work … until I was led to believe the man had captured Uncle Sirius and I led a raid to save him."

The Traveller fortified her Occlumency shields as she felt the tears threaten to fall.

"It had been a trick," was all that she was able to add. "A trick that had cost Uncle Sirius his life."

Dolohov didn't say anything; he focused on trying to finish his pudding. When the both of them had finally finished, Harry got an idea, jumped to her feet and held her hand out to Dolohov. The Russian frowned at it.

"Evans, what-"

Harry grinned brightly. "Dance with me. The next one."

Dolohov laughed shortly. "You have to be joking!"

"I am not," Harry shrugged and then smirked. "Scared?"

"No!" Dolohov flushed. "But the next dance is a foxtrot. Are you sure you want to dance … with me?"

"Yes," Harry sighed. "We will give my violin to Thomas so that is also covered."

"But won't your guardian want to dance too?"

"Not unless you manage to catch him," Harry responded with an evil smirk. "Lady Black got lucky."

Dolohov laughed at that. As for Thanatos, the God of Death was indeed hiding in one of the entertainment rooms with Hypnos and Rollo; they were more than happy to guard Harry's violin while they were trying to escape from Lady Livia Rowle and Melinoë. The Russian Knight tried not to pay attention to Arcturus Rosier as the boy followed his partner from the dance floor after their set.

"I actually have a bit of an ulterior motive for doing this," Harry admitted quietly as more couples once more got ready for the foxtrot.

"What is it, my Lady?" Dolohov frowned.

"I need to make sure no one can overhear what I am about to say to you and report it to your father," Harry replied candidly, speaking in a tone so that only Dolohov would be able to hear her. "Take it from someone who knows how painful pining can be, what you're doing isn't healthy." She exhaled quietly. "You aren't ever going to tell him the truth, are you?"

Dolohov looked conflicted as the music began. "I … can't. You know this! My father-"

"Is a bit of a bigot, yes, I know," Harry smiled. "But I am mostly concerned about what you want. And if it is to follow your father's wishes, then go for it but then I hope you will take some advice."

Dolohov cocked his head slightly.

"Either you find a way to be honest about yourself without him finding out, or you try to find a wife who not only is understanding of your situation, but is willing to help keep things under the radar," Harry stated bluntly. "If you choose this route … you may have to try and have at least one heir to keep up the pretence or recognise any child she bears as yours. Not ideal, I know."

Dolohov blinked a few times in shock before nodding slightly. "I will bear it in mind."

"Also, if you choose to be honest with yourself and say, 'go jump into the pit of Tartarus, Papa', I will be the first to kick anyone's butt who tries to say anything to you," Harry added bluntly.

The Knight almost lost his composure as he tried to swallow the bout of laughter that was threatening to come out. Once he trusted himself to speak again, Dolohov genuinely smiled at her. "Thank you, Evans."

"Oh please, call me Harry. I think we're past the animosity bit of our relationship," Harry quipped with a smirk. "Considering what I know about you."

"Fair enough," Dolohov concurred. "Call me Caius then."

"Well I am still planning on calling you Captain Grumpy when I see you moping," Harry informed him, attempting to sound serious.

"I didn't expect anything less!"

"Just so we are clear!"

Both Harry and Caius surprised themselves that evening with the fact that they both actually enjoyed the foxtrot with each other. None of their friends had actually believed the people who said that Ivan Dolohov's son was dancing with the strange Cursebreaker and had barely been able to look away in disbelief when they saw everyone had been right.

Altair and Tom had tried not to laugh at the absurdity of it.

"Someone has Confunded Caius Dolohov," was all Altair was able to say.

"He needs a Mind Healer," Druella agreed.

"OK, who hit Dolohov with a frying pan?" Artemis put in.

"I think we should count ourselves lucky they are not trying to kill each other," Felix shrugged. "Would be a bit awkward to explain to Abraxas and Loreley's parents."

Arcturus was conspicuously quiet as he watched Caius and Harry dance.

"It's a good thing I know Harry is besotted with Nott and Tom and that Caius usually cannot stand her, or I would think there is something between those two," Malum voiced, causing Ophelia and Ygraine to actually whack him around the head with no remorse and no thought about who saw them do it. "OWWW! What? I heard enemies-to-lovers stories are quite popular with people!"

"Well maybe keep that to yourself the next time," Tom glared at him.

"Tom, Caius is not after your Lady. You know this!"

"I know, but I don't like the suggestion he might be either."

"Agreed. It is in poor taste," Orion agreed, shaking his head at Malum.

The Heirs and Heiresses were still in disbelief when after their dance, Caius and Harry joined them, bantering together with ease.

"Caius, you up for a game of cards?" Felix asked eagerly as the two of them approached.

"Just as long as it is not against Billy Prewett," Caius answered easily.

"Harry, would you like to take a turn about the garden with myself, Artemis and Druella?" Loreley asked serenely.

"Yes, please! I need fresh oxygen," Harry exhaled in relief as she already began to follow them.

"Yeah, I think I might be in danger of getting heat stroke," Artemis complained as they stepped out into the suddenly bitterly but refreshingly cold winter air, the girls immediately putting Warming Charms around themselves. "OH MORGANA THIS FEELS AMAZING!"

Druella snorted. "I don't think the Muggles on the other side of Wiltshire heard you, Artemis."

"I don't care," the Potter heiress responded bluntly.

"I hope no one inside heard you out of context," Harry smirked.

"Shut up, Hera!"

The heiresses chuckled heartily as they set down the middle path of the garden, which was decorated like a winter wonderland. As they drew closer to one of the many grand fountains – Artemis and Druella still in disbelief that Harry had actually danced with Caius Dolohov – the girls came across Abraxas, who was suddenly like a deer caught in a headlight.

Loreley chuckled. "Hello, Braxi. Trying to hide from Father again?"

Abraxas sneered momentarily. That was Malfoy-nese for 'yes, shut up'; Harry giggled at how much he looked like Lucius at this moment.

"We're taking a bit of a walk. You're welcome to join us," Harry offered.

"I think I just might," Abraxas huffed as he rose to his feet. "It might give me a genuine excuse because I have already exacerbated the I Need To Help Mama excuse and I Have Sprained My Ankle So Cannot Dance excuse."

"What is your father doing that is forcing you to hide in the garden?" Artemis asked curiously.

Abraxas flushed. "I am not hiding!"

"Yes you are," Druella scoffed. "Come on. Tell us."

The Malfoy heir glowered at her but then his indignation deflated slightly. "It is nothing to worry about."

Harry exchanged a knowing look with Loreley for a moment. "Has your father been trying to introduce you to eligible heiresses again?"

"Yes," Abraxas was forced to admit, not looking happy about this. "Why are you always so sharp?"

"Because it is all our parents seem to be doing these days, shoving us all around on the political marriage chess board," Druella pointed out. "Who is Lord Malfoy trying to push under your nose? Lucinda Yaxley?"

"Amongst the group. Victoria Grey, Rhona Percy, Alya Shacklebolt, Calliope Carrow as well. I would rather be courting Bletchley or Pucey! All of these Houses want to rise in rank and naturally they are trying to use me to do it. Frankly, I am rather tired of it," Abraxas began to complain. "I want a wife who has some standing of her own already – someone I can also trust. I have heard stories about my ancestors who married women they did not trust. Lucius Malfoy who married Georgiana Diggory but did not trust her due to her friendship with Lady Margaret Peverell. Armand Malfoy IV who was forced to marry Lucy Potter to avoid a blood feud between their two families. In both cases, they spent each day and night suspecting their wives of plotting against them, only seeing them in order to …"

"Get an heir," Harry stated.

"Indeed," Abraxas sighed. "I don't want that. I will not be married to a potential spy."

"So, who would you consider?" Artemis wanted to know. "No offense, but for a pureblood match, you have slim pickings."

"I was maybe considering a foreign match," Abraxas admitted. "Liebhertz, Rinaldi, Mistflarden, Hofhuis, Delacourt, Anaya, Gomez, Ortega, Vulchanov – just some names I have been considering without my father's knowledge."

"Do you want a long courtship?" Harry questioned. "Or a short one? Would you mind a long-distance relationship?"

"I … have not got a clue. I am thoroughly stuck," the Malfoy heir admitted. "I do not want to settle for someone my father picks, but I also want to pick someone who I want and still conforms to my father's wishes."

"What does His Highness want?" Harry asked bluntly, causing the group to splutter.

Abraxas spluttered before composing himself. "Standing, potential allies, increased political clout – whether national or international. He is a very simple man in that regard, but don't you dare tell him I said that!"

Harry rolled her eyes. "I would not dream of it. The reason I ask is, have you perhaps considered Ygraine?"

The three heiresses and the Malfoy heir almost grinded to a halt. Clearly, none of them had seen that, which was interesting because Harry would have thought Loreley would have perhaps Seen which girl Harry would suggest.

Apparently not.

"Ygraine? Our Ygraine?" Druella paled for a moment.

"Druella, are you going to lecture me that our girl could do better?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "The Whites have standing in the wizarding world because they have proven Sídhe blood and they have both earned wealth and inherited wealth. If I remember what I read in those journals correctly, Ygraine's father has made a fortune in specialised Hangover Potions and was responsible for funding parts of Minister Spencer-Moon's election campaign."

"You remember correctly," Loreley confirmed mystically, her eyes shining with amusement.

"So, the Whites have powerful magical blood, they have standing, wealth, political clout and I am pretty sure they could allow House Malfoy to gain favour with the powerful Sídhe," Harry listed. "On paper, Ygraine is an ideal candidate for Abraxas to consider."

"An ideal candidate for any pureblood heir to consider," Artemis agreed.

Harry continued her campaign. "Ygraine is already slightly known to you. Right now, she has no other offers of interest; Dru and I share a dorm with her. We would have heard by now because Ygraine had such a potent disgust for her last Goyle suitor that I think we would have gotten a Howler of complaint."

"Absolutely," Druella agreed readily.

"So, you do not have competition right now," Harry went on. "But if you're going to do this, I would suggest you make sure you try not to overdo it and make sure that Ygraine wants to choose you as well. Because her parents are quite guilty for putting her on the marriage market when they are both mates."

"Seriously?!" Artemis gaped. "Whoa, Veela mates are really rare!"

"You saw it in Ygraine's head, didn't you?" Druella guessed.

Harry nodded. "I am only telling it now because I think Abraxas and Ygraine – if they go about their courting correctly – could genuinely come to like and respect each other."

Abraxas, who had been listening keenly, started nodded despondently. "I will consider this most carefully. Thank you, my Lady."

Harry beamed. "No problem."

"But would you trust Ygraine with him?" Druella wanted to know.

Abraxas looked affronted. Harry gave her a pointed look. "Abraxas is not violent, he is loyal to his family and I am sure that will extend to his wife. He needs a wife that can also lighten him up and Ygraine will know already what it means to be a Lady Consort in British society. A foreign bride would need to be willing to adapt and adapt quickly while experiencing the parasites that is our press."

"Aiii, she has a point," Artemis winced.

"Yeah, not everyone can do that," Druella was forced to concede. "Do you think Ygraine would agree?"

"I don't dare to presume to know her mind," Harry replied. "But I do give Abraxas a good shot."

"Agreed," Loreley put in whimsically.

I think I should also do a Match Maker business on the side at this rate, her Slytherin voice joked.

The conversation soon turned on the remarkable lack of altercations up until this point between rival Lords and Ladies. Harry found it rather pleasant that she could take a back seat and just listen and laugh along to her friends' debate about how long the peace would last.

Just before the group went back into the Manor, Loreley momentarily pulled Harry aside and whispered into her ear, "Runcorn and Urquhart had second wands."

Harry's heart skipped several beats. So, now she knew who to really look out for; the Lady Regnant could not help but wonder which one out of Vida and Queenie she had been talking to.

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

Athenaïs was having a lot of fun at the human party. The food was good and she had many interesting humans to observe. The Blacks were all really funny – Orion and Walburga were still her favourites though – and Athenaïs loved the Lestranges, the Rosiers, Charlus and Dorea, and took a liking to Eleanor, Hecuba and Electra Potter. The young Gargouille already decided that she did not like Lord Potter, Lord Nott, Caspar Crouch, Royston Macnair and she hated the Underwood sisters.

Diantha basked in the adoration of those who talked to her and loved her work, never asking anything about the people who were talking to her – as if it didn't matter. As for Anne, she was glued to the side of a man with a mate and was overshadowing the man's said mate. Athenaïs already knew Lady Amaris Nott and would take the kind witch to talk to Melinoë or Thanatos or Hypnos or Rollo. The Gargouille even convinced Altair's mother to play a round of cards with the Prewett siblings, Regulus Black, Hecuba Potter and Mr. Horner.

However, once Athenaïs took a disliking to someone, she kept a close eye on them. Which meant that Fleamont Potter, Mattheo Nott, Crouch Macnair and the Underwoods had a very wily spy – and they didn't even notice, because they ignored all the familiars dressed as Hounds anyway. As such, when the Familiar of the Mistress of Death went to ask for a refill of her bowl, she noticed something out of the corner of her beady onyx eyes.

Caspar Crouch was leaving the ballroom, and not to one of the entertaining rooms or the buffet room. Not even to the garden – he was heading towards the main entrance. Macnair was following him. Athenaïs felt that this was really weird since none of the other guests had done that.

The Gargouille forgot her parchment and carefully followed the two men, making sure to keep a safe distance. The two men were not heading to get their wands; they were heading towards one of the main stairs. None of the security guards seem to notice, mainly because many of them were drinking tea and reading or chatting with each other.

Bloody idiots, Athenaïs commented to herself.

Knights and servants were never permitted to be so lazy in the past, Lara agreed.

Athenaïs silently padded after the men, opting to fly up to the first floor rather than risk being heard on the stairs. You never know if they were creaky. Old houses like the Evren Estates were quite creaky. She followed the two men carefully down a corridor, making sure to stay in the shadows of suits of armour or under cabinets or behind statues. The past Familiars in her amulet used their powers to keep her cloaked in shadows just in case.

"Do you know where they are?" she heard Macnair ask his companion coldly.

"No," Crouch answered coolly. "I doubt they have showed their face already. Corban and Adorabella would recognise them instantly."

At the end of the corridor that was close to the din of the Yule Ball, Crouch and Macnair bumped into two women Athenaïs had seen around but had not been introduced to, or approached by. One was dressed almost like a giant icy bird while the other was dressed like an icy serving girl or something.

Crouch and Macnair almost jumped out of their skins but composed themselves quickly.

"Urquhart, Runcorn!" Crouch tried to keep his tone light. "What are you two doing up here?"

The feather-dress woman smiled jovially. "My, my, are you boys up to mischief? What would your wives say?"

Athenaïs watched carefully as the Macnair man put his hands behind his back and started fiddling with his ring. "We are looking for the lavatory, if you must know, Helena. No mischief here."

The Gargouille's eyes widened when she saw a small spike in the ring shine in the moonlight.

"The lavatory? Really?" the other woman raised a sassy eyebrow. "Come on, Macnair, we expected better from you. Gellert would not be happy if you got caught with such a pathetic excuse."

Athenaïs barely dared to breathe at this point.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"What did you just say, Isobel?" Crouch's voice was barely a whisper.

"You heard me, and my name isn't Isobel – as you may already know," the woman-who-was-but-wasn't-Isobel smirked. She turned to her friend. "Are they as shocked as I think they are, Queenie, my friend?"

"Oh absolutely, doll," the feathered woman purred, smirking. "Frightened too. Apparently they had not expected us to blend in so well. I do a posh, English upper-crust accent quite well, don't I?"

"You sound exactly like Helena, Goldstein," Macnair commented as he put the top of his ring back on.

"That is very good to know. I did practise a lot," Goldstein laughed like the man had told a good joke. "Now that we have established that Vida and I are not the real Helena and Isobel, let's get down to business. Do you two remember what went wrong with Operation Blood Hound?"

"No," Crouch growled. "I remember doing the Blood Rite and then going home – it is a blur and a mess from there. We were kidnapped and by the end, one of us was dead. It looked like we were taken by the Tracker for this angel and her ghost friends but I don't trust my own damn eyes. I can't say if I was awake or asleep."

"Ditto," Macnair added darkly. "All I know is that we did what we were told but failed."

"Damn it," the woman-who-was-but-wasn't-Isobel – Vida apparently – hissed. "All right, what about Meg, Ghost and Goliath?"

"Last we heard they were still in the country," Macnair responded coldly.

"That could be a problem," Goldstein commented. "What about our little Cursebreaker? What do you know about her?"

"Her? The filthy half-blood that calls herself a Lady Regnant?" Crouch scoffed. Athenaïs had to use all her willpower not to start hissing in anger. "She is an upstart with undeserved arrogance and has a big mouth."

"Lady Regnant?" Vida repeated in surprise. "She's a Lady Regnant?"

"Apparently, but I refuse to acknowledge her as such," Crouch sniffed. "Her name is Lady Hera Evans. Evans is a damn Muggle name, not a Noble one!"

"Evans," Queenie stated in a deadly quiet voice. "Hmmm."

"I heard something about her," Macnair spoke up. "Doubt it is true but I keep my ears open and all, just as instructed."

"Oh?" Vida raised an eyebrow sassily. "Well, don't be shy, Mr. Macnair. Do tell."

"Well, my friend Norton Lament told me something," Macnair began.

At hearing the name 'Lament', Athenaïs knew that she couldn't just hide and be still anymore. She needed to shut him up – now! The Lament name was trouble, trouble that her Mistress could ill afford. Immediately the Gargouille looked around for something to knock Macnair out. Her eyes lay on it quickly.

Shields on the walls. Perfect!

Athenaïs smirked as her eyes glowed bright green and the shield began being surrounding by a neon green outline. Within seconds, the thing flew off the wall and hurtled towards the side of Macnair's head, hitting him in the back with some force. The man dropped to the ground in seconds, causing the other three to leap about five feet into the air.

"What the – Royston!" Crouch exclaimed and crouched down next to his friend. "Buddy, wake up!"

He began slapping Macnair's face, but it was no good.

"Great!" Vida seethed. "Now we have to make it look like he was drunk."

The Gargouille smirked to herself as she turned her powers onto the window behind them. She started making the window opened and close rapidly, banging it in a manner akin to the one she had seen Peeves the Poltergeist use at Hogwarts. It made the three conscious wizards back away in pure trepidation.

"What the hell is going on?" Vida commented.

"I think the Malfoys may have a poltergeist," Goldstein added.

"I doubt it but let's get outta here before someone ask questions," Crouch was set to run.

"Idiot! What about Macnair?" Vida pointed out.

"I will take him and tell someone that a shield fell down from the wall and knocked him out," Crouch responded easily as he levitated his unconscious friend and already began hurrying back.

Great, and when he becomes conscious, that man will start blabbing, Athenaïs grumbled.

You need to tell Harry – now! Eve hissed.

The Gargouille sprang into action. She didn't even try to use the stairs; she simply flew down the giant opening and down into the ballroom, scanning the wizards below for Harry. She fortunately found Harry in a corner of the room, chatting with Thanatos, Hypnos, Melinoë and Lady Nott.

Athenaïs dived down and immediately started pulling at Harry's dress as she growled, HarryHarryHarryHarry, you need to listen to me right now!

"Not now, Atty."

It is very important!

"Could you stop pulling at my dress please? You are making a scene!"

Athenaïs would not stop. Harry, they went out and talked to two people who are not really the real people. One of them knows a Lament! They said 'Gellert' too. I heard them!

That had Harry's attention. The Mistress of Death picked up her Familiar and fixed her with a serious look. "Atty, calm down. You are not making any sense."

The Gargouille scowled and immediately started hissing and howling irately. Crouch and the ugly one – Macnair. They went out and met with two witches who were not really the witches they pretend to be. Vida and Goldstein are their real names. They asked about the Tracker and about you and Macnair said he knew a Norton Lament who apparently blabbed something and I knocked him out! But if that guy comes round he will start talking.

Harry's eyes widened in realisation. "Of course … the flask," she whispered. "It's an old trick … "

The Mistress of Death exchanged a look with the God of Death, who had used their Link to eavesdrop into the conversation between Harry and Atty. The other two gods caught on easily.

"Is everything all right?" Lady Nott, who only heard the Lady Regnant's familiar hiss and howl eerily and angrily, asked nervously.

"Yes, yes, Athenaïs is just annoyed that her favourite snack has run out," Harry lied smoothly.

It was at this moment that Caspar Crouch returned with a clearly unconscious Macnair, pretending to look extremely sheepish, while the Malfoys hurried over to see what had happened. The unique Peverell family went to investigate immediately, as did many of the other witnesses in the room.

"-it was stupid but the shield fell out of nowhere and just knocked him out," they heard Crouch explain as they approached.

"Well, we can put him in one of the upstairs rooms until he recovers. We may need to give him a check-up when he wakes up," Lord Malfoy turned to some of his guests. "Does anyone have experience with head trauma?"

"Ooooo we do!" Melinoë and Hypnos piped up immediately.

Crouch did not look happy about this at all, but Athenaïs knew he could not say or do anything without looking mad because both Malfoys beamed.

"Excellent, thank you so much."

The Gargouille almost had to smirk as the double agent was forced to hand over his friend to the God of Sleep and the Goddess of Ghosts and the Lady Malfoy led them out to show them which room they could put Macnair in. Crouch glowered at their backs and then at Thanatos and Harry as if this was their fault.

Quietly, Athenaïs wished for the first time in her life that she had a breath weapon.

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

Harry had been keeping a close eye on Lords Black, Malfoy and Nott as soon as she, the girls and Abraxas had gotten back into the room to see if she could pick up on any incriminating behaviour. She had even joined in some gossipy groups in order to see if she could pick up on any motive they might have had to curse Nymera or any other Lestrange the way they did. The Carrows' behaviour was so openly hostile to the three Lestranges that it was frankly a miracle that they were once Slytherins at all.

By the time Athenaïs had arrived with her information that Grindelwald's sleeper agents were indeed disguised as Helena Urquhart and Isobel Runcorn and that her Gargouille had knocked out one of the sleepers in order to shut them up, Harry had determined that Arcturus Black was likely innocent because Blacks would have used a real curse on an enemy and that the Carrows were perhaps so openly hostile they would not have bothered with subtlety.

That left Nott and Malfoy.

While Hypnos and Melinoë dealt with Macnair and Thanatos was apparently keeping an eye on the disguised Queenie and Vida because they had come over to join his conversation with Rollo, Harry returned her attention back onto her two remaining suspects. Lord Malfoy was finally taking a break and dancing with Lady Rosier and Lord Nott … was slipping out into the garden with Anne Underwood.

Harry's lip already started to curl in disgust. Without so much as reconsidering her decision, she set off after them, barely registering that there were three people who decided to follow her. The Mistress of Death saw Lord Nott and his mistress head to the left of the garden. Thanks to Edmund Peverell's map, Harry knew she could head straight down the path and then to the left and then ahead again towards one of the entrances to the labyrinth and still keep an eye on her future father-in-law and his secret lover.

The Lady Peverell was very happy that she had some stealth training because it certainly came in handy. She rather liked that she could blend in with the shadows almost naturally because it allowed Harry to walk close enough to listen to their conversation.

"-it is driving me mad! Even when I got out these days I have those gossiping fishwives whispering behind my back."

"They have not confronted you, my darling?"

"No, of course not! None of them have the stomach for it," Anne scoffed. "I just have to put up with the ignominy of tolerating their smirking."

You should have thought about that before going after a married man, Harry sneered.

"It will not be forever, my love," Harry almost wanted to gag at the smarmy promise coming out of Lord Nott's mouth. "Once I find a way to finally escape my marriage to Amaris without tainting us with scandal, we can live out in the open."

Keep on dreaming, Harry commented snidely. Divorce will ensure your fall from grace.

She had once overheard Vernon and Petunia discuss the days that a divorce ensured that people could no longer be invited into the Queen's box during horse races because it was considered that bad.

Plus, the wizarding world also didn't take too kindly to divorce either. If abdication was frowned upon, divorce was too.

"So you keep saying! But it has been years and still nothing," Anne complained. "Wren and Evelina are still illegitimate – you said you had a solution already, Mattheo."

"I do, I just am struggling to get my legislation to be taken seriously in the Wizengamot," Lord Nott responded, sounding very irritable. "They are being … difficult about it."

"Then find a way to convince them! Any way you see fit," Anne growled. "Even if I have to take matters into my own hands – again!"

Harry almost froze to the spot at hearing this.

Wait … again?

Lord Nott also stopped and stared at her. "Anne, what do you mean, again? When did you take matters into your own hands?"

The Underwood woman scoffed. "It doesn't matter. All you need to know is that I failed."

"So this is where you decided to scurry off to!"

Before Lord Nott could question his mistress further, Altair had arrived, followed by Tom, who seemed ready at any moment to restrain their future Consort. Even from where Harry was standing, she could see that Altair's face was dangerously red and there was something in his eyes that told Harry that Mattheo and Anne were in some serious trouble.

Altair scoffed. "You cannot even control yourself at a Yule Ball. I should have expected it, I suppose."

"Altair," Lord Nott greeted him coolly. "This is none of your concern. Go back inside."

"I don't think so, Father. Because you humiliating and tormenting my mother in public is absolutely my concern," Altair shot back.

"You should show more respect to your father, boy," Anne had the nerve to sneer at him.

"And you should show more respect to your superiors," Tom shot back with a cold smile. Harry found herself smirking too as she started to come out of the shadows.

Anne grew red at this. "He will not be my superior for long!"

"Oh really?" Altair stated snarkily. "Are you finally getting married to someone else rather than being an O-grade strumpet?"

"Altair!" his father snapped. "Enough!"

"I'll take that as a no," Altair responded smoothly. He turned back to his father fully. "Why don't you just do us all a favour and request a formal separation from Mother? It will save her grief, me a headache and humiliation and you don't ever have to see us again. Everyone would be a great deal happier."

Lord Nott clenched his teeth; he had no intention of answering. Anne, however, apparently could not resist rubbing their plan in her lover's heir's face. "Because we want to marry, stupid boy. Marry so that our children can be legitimised in the eyes of the law. Provide some more suitable heirs for House Nott."

Altair's eyes flashed dangerously as did Tom's. "Even if you succeed, the Minister will never allow the illegitimate heirs to take precedence over the legitimate heir of the first marriage," Tom stated in a dangerously calm voice. "Your children were born bastards. Besides, if Lord Nott chooses to recognise them publicly, they still have some rights even without legitimisation. You know this."

"I will not settle for some rights," Anne hissed like an irate cat.

"He will never marry you," Harry had made her entrance at this point, stepping out of the shadows.

She smirked at the surprised looks of both Lord Nott and his mistress; she did appear out of thin air for them. Anne recovered quickly and sneered at her. "Ah, brilliant, the interloper from Europe is here too!"

Neither the Nott Heir nor the Heir of Slytherin took kindly to that insult, judging by their darkening expressions.

"She is a Lady Regnant and our future Consort," Altair snapped at her, eyes flashing a bright purple so momentarily that Harry thought she was perhaps seeing things. "So show her some damn respect!"

Anne ignored him, turning on Harry. "I will get what I want eventually. We are working on a way to marry – for years. We are so close-"

"No, you're not. Not by a long shot because you're battling against an idea held by not only thousands of wizards but many Muggles as well. His Lordship will also have to face public humiliation," Harry responded smoothly. "Because, the only way you could become Lady Nott is through a divorce, during which you will be labelled as a home-wrecker, a harlot and a disgrace to your House and stories will begin emerging in the Prophet about how poor, innocent Lady Amaris Nott had to put up with her husband's philandering whilst being a dutiful wife and mother."

Harry smirked as Anne's widened. "You see, if you go through with it, you will make Lady Nott the victim in the story, and thus the protagonist. Because all people will care about is that there was another woman in the picture who was the source of Lady Amaris' woes. They won't care about your feelings or whether you actually love this man or if the Lady Nott is mad or not. They will see you as the source of her madness. Your social and political life will be over because no one wants to publicly associate with adulterers, even if behind closed doors they do it themselves." Harry looked to Lord Nott, who had not tried to rebuke her statements. "That is why he will never marry you. To save his own neck."

Lord Nott glowered at her, but still kept silent. Altair and Tom watched on proudly, smirking. However, Anne recovered quite quickly.

"Sounds like to me you are scared that your precious little lover may lose what little power and standing he has," she taunted. "Your union would not be very prestigious then. A nobody from Europe with Hogwarts' rising star and the demoted son of House Nott; that is not something to write about in a letter, let alone The Court of Britain!"

Anne had expected the strange witch with bright peridot eyes to lose her temper. She frowned deeply when Harry started to laugh in a manner that was incredibly cold. "You clearly don't know me very well if you think I give a fig about Altair's standing or how prestigious my match is or isn't. Because even if Altair is demoted or disowned or disinherited, I will not break my oath to him." Harry had stopped laughing at this point and was now glaring at Lord Nott's mistress. "Even if you throw him and his mother onto the streets, I will happily take them in because of one simple reason: I love him."

At those three words, Harry's eyes glowed bright silver, an ominous, purple wind suddenly arising around them, howling and whistling eerily. Anne had the common sense to take a few steps away from Harry, her eyes wide with fear. Lord Nott pulled her towards him protectively, clearly not happy he didn't have a wand on him. However, Anne made the mistake of making direct eye contact with the angry Lady Peverell.

The ruthless Slytherin part of Harry wasted no time in incanting Legilimens in her head and the moment Harry found herself in Anne Underwood's head, she searched for the incriminating memory of Anne 'taking matters into her own hands', her funny feeling guiding her decision. Anne's head wasn't complex so the Lady Regnant found it quite quickly, and it surprised Harry so much she knocked herself out of Anne's head.

Anne had cursed a slice of cake at a party that had meant to be for Altair but the young boy said he wasn't hungry, so the person who took it – had been Nymera! Anne Underwood was responsible for Nymera's illness, because the child had eaten a cake slice meant for Altair.

In order to disguise her rage and what she had sneakily done, Harry continued the wind spell for a little longer before dispelling it and smiling brightly. "Have I made myself abundantly clear?" she asked sweetly.

"Crystal," Lord Nott reassured through gritted teeth as he took his mistress's hand and the two of them fled back towards the Manor, not even looking back at the triad as they did so.

As soon as the pair were gone a tension descended on the three wizards, the rising winter wind sounding louder than normal all of a sudden. Altair was the first to turn back to Harry, his eyes darker than normal.

"Did you mean that?" his quiet question sounded like a shout in the silence.

Harry smiled. "You should know me by now to know the answer. But yes – I meant every word. I would take both your mother and you in without a second thought. I never cared about your status or who your family is; I care about you. I," the Lady Regnant plucked up some latent courage, "I love you. So much I … don't know how to say it-"

At those three words, Altair closed the distance between them and as soon as he reached her, captured her lips into a passionate, heated kiss that ignited every atom in Harry's body, cutting her off before she could start rambling. One of his arms snaked around her waist, holding her close to him and his other hand carded through her curls; normally Harry would have cursed herself for enjoying someone's touch but she could not find it in herself to feel guilty for enjoying it. The Traveller ran her hands through her lover's hair, not even stopping the moan that wanted to escape as Altair made their kiss slightly rougher, an animalistic growl coming from his throat.

Finally, what felt like an eternity, both of them needed to stop to catch their breath. Both Harry and Altair found themselves unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterwards, their foreheads still touching. Altair's hand withdrew from Harry's hair and went down her right cheek, caressing it lovingly.

"I love you too," he whispered hoarsely. "More than you know. My beloved Sunna."

Harry could not help but smile.

Altair then ran his thumb gently over her lips. "The things I want to do to you …" he continued in a reverent whisper. "Harry …"

"I know," she whispered back. "Me too."

Altair kissed her longingly and with full of promise, eliciting a moan from both of them. The pair forced themselves to stop before they lost complete control and turned to look at Tom, who had been watching with an entertained smirk, his eyes almost black. "About time," he commented.

"Tom," Harry managed to say in a whisper. "I love you also."

"I know, my love," Tom reassured as he approached the pair. "But I know the both of you needed this." He pressed a loving kiss to her temple, and then to Altair's. "I only wish it had not been so public. This sight should be mine and mine alone."

"Mr. Possessive," Harry teased lightly.

"Absolutely," Tom didn't even want to deny it as he kissed her neck lightly.

"I doubt anyone else saw us," Altair added.

"I don't care. It is the idea that we could have a voyeur," Tom growled, nuzzling Altair's hair, burying his face into Altair's curls. "You are both so divine …"

"So are you, my beloved Moon," Altair responded, closing his eyes as Tom nuzzled him some more and then planted a kiss onto his neck.

"Agreed," Harry smirked as she watched them.

It took a moment for the three of them to be able to gain full control again, gather their breath and be able to part again.

"I think I should go back and check on Mother," Altair stated, his breathing slightly heavy.

"I will come with you," Tom answered immediately.

Harry smiled smally. "I think I will gather my head for a bit. I will see back inside in a minute."

Her lovers nodded, each planting one more kiss on her temple before turning back. Harry herself could not wipe the smile off her face as she continued towards the labyrinth. But she didn't get very far.

"You had me worried there for a second," Harry stopped and turned around as Ophelia stepped out of the shadows, the Rowle heiress blushing brighter than fresh strawberries.

"We know how to stay in control," the Lady Regnant reassured her friend gently. "Don't worry."

Ophelia approached. "I wasn't talking about … that. I was talking about Lord Nott and Mistress Underwood. I thought you were going to use that wind to suffocate them to death or throw them up into the air."

Harry paled quite quickly. "You saw and heard all that?"

"I did," Ophelia commented, shaking her head. "I wanted to talk to you in private, but I never expected to hear and see what I did."

The Traveller regarded her friend sadly. "You … won't tell anyone, will you?"

"No of course not!" Ophelia scoffed.

Harry nodded, sighing quietly in relief. She then regained her composure. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

The Rowle heiress suddenly became a little skittish, her hands starting to fumble with each other. "I … erm … I want to ask you something that may cause a great deal of offence but I need to know for the sake of my own sanity."

It was at this point Harry felt the Link between her and her godly friends open.

Harry, we may have a bit of a situation, Thanatos stated grimly.

What is it? Harry questioned immediately.

We may have knocked out Ghost and Goliath, Hypnos answered sheepishly. They wanted to take Macnair; we have already wiped his mind clean of what Norton Lament told him. Don't know where Meg is.

And we have lost sight of Goldstein and Rosier, Thanatos added.

Harry paled slightly.

"Harry. Harry! Are you OK?" Ophelia asked urgently as she shook her friend slightly. "Is it the Fainting Sickness? You're spacing out again."

Before the Lady Regnant could answer, her magic started to hum and threaten to strike, which only meant one thing. There was a threat behind her. A silky voice then sounded. "Fainting Sickness? That does not sound good at all."

Harry and Ophelia whirled around to see Helena Urquhart – well, the fake one – behind them, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere. The Lady Regnant narrowed her eyes slightly to study the facial expression of the disguised General; whoever it was, looked like she was having fun.

"Yeah, it's a deadly nuisance," Harry drawled.

The smile on the General's face only grew. "I can imagine. What are you girls doing out here in the freezing cold? You should head inside before you get ill."

"We will, but I need to speak to my friend about something," Ophelia answered candidly.

"What a coincidence!" the fake Helena lit up. "So do I."

Ophelia must have picked up on the underlying menace in her tone because Harry felt her friend tense next to her. Almost instinctively, Harry put herself between the fake Helena and Ophelia, her hand close to her lantern. "What do you need to speak to me about, Madam Urquhart?"

The disguised General chuckled. "I would like to know a little bit more about your background," she stated jovially. "Here we have a young orphaned witch who appeared out of nowhere, who was born in Europe, was taken on as a Cursebreaker by Gringotts, managed to save an entire school with a powerful Patronus and who freed two Resistance members from a cursed portrait with powerful magic. Yet, no one knows who her parents are or where she was born." She cocked her head slightly. "Curious."

Harry swallowed slightly and then her eyes narrowed. "How do you know it was me?"

The fake Helena frowned slightly. "What do you mean, doll?"

"How do you know it was me who saved Hogwarts?" Harry clarified. "The papers never mentioned my name."

There was a momentary look of surprise on the disguised General's face before she composed herself. "It is as I said before, people talk."

"Indeed," Harry suddenly tried not to smirk. "So how do you know the two men were in the Resistance? That was definitely not in the papers either."

The fake Helena knew she had finally been caught in a serious mistake because her expression changed to one of pure irritation before disappearing again and being replaced by one of abject amusement. "You really are too sharp witted for your own good, doll," suddenly that Southern American accent came out of Helena's mouth.

Ophelia's eyes widened. Harry smirked to herself; it was Queenie Goldstein.

"Who sent you here?" the Cursebreaker was pleased she managed to keep her composure.

"Oh, dove, I am sure you know by now," the Natural Legilimens purred. "He's become rather fond of you, you know. He wants to know a bit more about you. You have his congratulations on your courting, by the way."

This did take Harry by surprise but she quickly recovered because she felt Ophelia begin vibrating with pure fear behind her. "Tell him, thanks I guess," Harry responded coolly.

Queenie hummed and smirked. "Are you not going to ask who I am?" she asked sweetly.

"Does it matter?" Harry could not help respond sassily.

It was at this point that the Lady Regnant of House Peverell felt something hit against her Occlumency shields, causing her to wince slightly but quickly focused on fortifying them and focusing on plugging any hole Queenie could exploit. Behind her, Ophelia was doing the same.

"Is this enough of a clue?" the General smirked.

"Queenie Goldstein," Harry growled.

"Indeed. Hmmm … Occlumenses. Both of you. Now this is definitely interesting," Queenie giggled as she stopped her attack on their minds. "You have no idea how annoying it is to be able to hear the minds of others in the room and then to hear deafening silence when it comes to you, your friends and your family. It really isn't fun to actually be forced into a conversation and face potential boredom."

"Oh, my sincere apologies," the Mistress of Death sassed sarcastically. "Must have been dreadful for you."

"You really are a fiery one," Queenie beamed. "He will be pleased to know that."

"Pity I don't care what he thinks," Harry shot back immediately. "Why are you really here?"

"Well, to meet you of course. I wasn't lying about that," the Natural Legilimens informed her happily. "We also had to meet a couple of friends for some clarification, nothing more. Unfortunately we didn't get anywhere. So now, I would be obliged if you answered my questions."

Harry glared at the General defiantly. Queenie narrowed her eyes at her. "Who are you really, Lady Hera Evans?"

Ophelia took hold of Harry's right hand at this point, still shaking in absolute terror. Harry herself smirked slightly. "You recognise my surname do you?"

"I lost many good people to a bloody Evans," Queenie informed her. "But I know for certain she is dead. Because I was the one who killed her and you look only like her, just with raven hair. So … who are you?"

Harry decided to use this anger and information to her own advantage. "I didn't and don't exist," she responded cryptically. "No one would ever acknowledge that I did."

Much to Harry's own covert delight, Queenie's eyes widened. "No … it can't be … Operation Sparta," she whispered. "The Resistance was actually mad enough?"

Harry took control of the conversation again. "Now you know, why don't you hurry back to your beloved leader and tell him to leave me alone if he knows what is good for him?"

The General regarded her with an almost unreadable expression. Both Harry and Ophelia watched her unblinkingly as she began circling them like a lioness about to strike. "I doubt he will be able to do that, dove. You are too interestin' to him already," Queenie informed her candidly. "I truly am sorry for it."

Harry spluttered. "Sorry? You're sorry?!"

"It is not an enviable position to be targeted by a Dark Lord, as you know," Queenie responded. "They are arrogant and possessive, and if something has their interest they will attempt to keep it no matter what they need to do. Their attention is fickle, though."

Harry and Ophelia stayed silent.

Queenie continued. "I joined Gellert to be able to undo the out of date laws in my country and others that state we magic folk cannot marry No-Majs. I wanted to marry the man I love, a baker called Jacob. He was a No-Maj who was permitted to come into our world and live in both ours and his. I believed Gellert could help me get that, and I still do. But as always, his fickle attention is on somethin' else."

"What? Another crappy cookie?" Harry sassed before she could stop herself.

Queenie laughed. "If only. He's obsessed with finding a particular magical family and his lead to them disappeared. He ain't happy about it, of course. Gellert is now more set on findin' them than ever. So I would like to give you some advice."

"What?" Harry growled.

"Continue to entertain him," Queenie's answer took her by surprise. "But make sure you don't give him a reason to come after you as well. You Operation Sparta people were a pain in our side and I'd rather not see Nurmengard destroyed from the inside."

Harry could not help smirk at that.

Suddenly, shouting drifted into their ears. "Helena, where are you? We need to get going right now!" Harry assumed the person calling was Vida disguised as Isobel.

Apparently her theory was right because the disguised General smiled serenely. "Ah, our time is up. How disappointing. Well, it was a pleasure to finally meet you properly, Lady Hera."

To her surprise, Queenie dipped a curtsey and disappeared practically in a blink of an eye.

Ophelia finally dared to breathe. "Oh Aithusa's unholy farts …"

"Yeah, my sentiments exactly," Harry agreed, her hearth thumping out of her rib cage. "We need to get my guardians, now!"

"Shouldn't we be going to Hecuba Potter and Alphard Black?" Ophelia countered as they carefully ran back towards the house, making sure their gowns did not get in the way of their feet.

"Two Aurors are not going to help against Queenie Goldstein and Vida Rosier," Harry answered candidly. "Just … please trust me."

"I do," Ophelia reassured without a moment's hesitation.

Just as Harry and Ophelia reached the entrance back into the ballroom, they almost collided with a female security guard and an angry Athenaïs, who looked about as murderous as a dragon could get.

Harry frowned. "Atty, what is the matter-"

"Oh there you two are! Did you see Isobel Runcorn?" the female security guard asked urgently.

"No," Ophelia frowned. "What happened?"

Haaaaayyuouaaaauooo! Athenaïs howled.

Harry translated it instantly. 'She got her wand and attacked Lady Malfoy and five security guards. They know she's an imposter!'

"Your familiar was amazing," the guard informed. "Chased her all the way upstairs and got some decent hits in. We lost track of her on the third floor."

Ophelia and Harry exchanged a look.

"She was in the garden," they chorused.

The female security guard, the Lady Regnant, the Gargouille and the Rowle heiress decided to search the grounds together. Athenaïs even checked the labyrinth from the air just in case but they were not there either. Harry did not even sense their life forms on the grounds anymore. They were gone.

"Damn it," the security guard seethed. "They got away."

Harry regarded the young woman for a moment. "I hope your superior will not punish you too severely for this, Meg," she stated casually.

The Hit Witch tensed immediately and looked at her in disbelief. "How did you …"

"You're taking this personally," Harry responded simply. "Yes, we know who Isobel Runcorn and Helena Urquhart actually are. No we were not able to stop them."

"Queenie Goldstein disappeared in front of our eyes," Ophelia told the Hit Witch. "We were on our way to get Harry's guardians when we bumped into you."

"Well, they are searching the Manor up and down for you two," Meg admitted. "I should get the three of you back inside and to them – I can worry about Goldstein and Rosier later. I also need to find my colleagues; they have mysteriously disappeared."

Harry really hoped that Hypnos and Melinoë had not buried them under the patio or something. That would be awkward to explain.

Presently what was most awkward for both Harry and Ophelia was the fact that their families rushed over to check on them the moment that the two of them were caught sight of. The gods played the role of concerned guardians beautifully and even Rollo gathered both Harry and Ophelia into a rib-crushing hug because he was so relieved.

The girls' friends rushed over not too long afterwards.

"You girls missed quite the show!" Felix informed them as Altair, who looked like he had been crying, and Tom both hugged Harry close, both of them shaking with left over fear. "The guards tried to seize Runcorn and she managed to get her wands back from 'em and took down a bunch of them and Lady Malfoy. Atty battled with her-"

"We know. Meg told us," Ophelia answered curtly.

"Meg?" Melinoë narrowed her eyes at the guard. "I thought I recognised you!"

Meg flushed a little. "Hi."

"I think it is best we leave," Lord Rowle spoke up with a tone full of authority. "I can take fights over dresses but imposters disguised with Polyjuice Potion is a step too far for me."

"Agreed," Thanatos nodded. He turned to Harry and Tom. "I think it is best we go home too."

The two of them nodded solemnly as Rollo handed Harry back Evren's violin.

Melinoë then looked at Altair. "Would you and your mother like to come too?"

Altair lit up. "Yes, please!"

"We will update you guys tomorrow," Malum told the four of them as the group followed them out towards the entrance hall again to get their wands and cloaks back. "Hopefully before the Prophet gets a hold of it."

"Hecuba and Alphard are already on the way to the office to get some Aurors," Artemis added. "Hopefully they will catch them."

Harry silently already knew the answer. There was no way Hecuba and Alphard would be able to catch two of Grindelwald's best. If she was a betting girl, Harry would bet a lot of good money that those girls were already perhaps half way back to Austria.

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

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE MOIRAI HAPPENED TO YOU?!"

Queenie and Vida had returned home far quicker and earlier than Gellert had expected but he had not Seen that Vida had a nasty black eye, several deep scratches and had a torn dress. It had really taken the mood out of the surprise Yule Eve party that he had been planning for them. She looked like she had been attacked by a rabid animal. Queenie was in pristine condition as always, which meant she had either been able to defend herself, was not attacked or simply had not been present during the attack. Credence, still wearing his snowman outfit, was already busy nursing Vida's wounds.

"What the hell happened?" Carrow demanded, half in awe and half in fear.

"They sussed out Isobel was not really Isobel," Queenie informed with a little sigh. "Vida here tried to escape with witnesses around and was apparently attacked by one of the Hounds."

Vida scowled at her. "I was attacked by a fricking dragon! A Gargouille! One of the damn familiars was a Gargouille."

"Amazing!" Gellert's eyes shone brightly. "Did it belong to our little Cursebreaker?"

Vida was affronted. "THAT is your main concern?!"

"Well, you are alive, are you not?" the Dark Lord pointed out jovially.

The General huffed but then composed herself slightly.

"Well, the thing is certainly petulant enough," Vida growled.

Queenie gave her a pointed look before she turned back to Grindelwald, who was looking oddly adorable in his tinsel scarf. "The Cursebreaker's name is Hera, but she prefers to be called Harry. She is a Lady Regnant, well-liked by many of the pureblood families already, especially the Blacks, and is a powerful Occlumens."

"Really?" Gellert beamed. "Do you think she knows the Silver Dragon?"

"I really could not say," Queenie admitted. "Because she wasn't the only Occlumens. Her friend who was with her was as well. Most of her friends were, as were her family."

"All of those snot-nosed kids are Occlumenses?" Vida exclaimed in disbelief. "How? Why? Not many pureblood families require Occlumency anymore because using Legilimency without someone's permission is illegal on the British Isles."

"It could be a requirement from Gringotts as part of the relinquishing of that gag order," Credence pointed out.

"That is a good point," Vida was forced to concede.

"She is an intelligent young lady," Queenie continued, seeing the Dark Lord's eager expression for more news. "She has some ideas that British purebloods would consider unorthodox, but I think she just may be ahead of her time."

"Excellent," Gellert beamed.

Vida harrumphed. "Let us not forget that we also lost a potential informant because of a shield knocking one of our agents out, Queenie," she added. "He was about to give us more information on Hera when-"

"What kind of information?" the Dark Lord demanded.

"No idea," Queenie admitted. "Something about who she is from someone called Norton Lament. Could just be pureblood hearsay because she is a foreigner that no one really knows."

"Well, I say we try and find this Norton Lament and invite him over for a nice cup of coffee and some cake," Gellert stated happily. "But after Yule and New Year's. It is simply poor manners to ruin family time."

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

Harry's future Consorts know the truth behind her powers. Drama has ensued once more at the Malfoy Yule Ball. Harry came face to face with Queenie but not in the way the Lady Regnant expected. Athenaïs attempted to keep her Mistress's secret safe but Macnair put enough of an idea into the two Generals' heads. Will Gellert insist on inviting Lament for coffee or will he once more change his fickle mind? With the 29th fast approaching, will Tom come clean to his future Consorts and ask for their help? Stay tuned to find out!

Oh my gods the Yule Ball is finally done! Yes! I have been so busy with this and stressing about work – I hope you guys forgive me that it took so long because I also spent some time stressing about the fact it took ages for my work schedule to arrive and I have it now so I am all good. Yeah – stress related issues suck…

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope to see you in the next one!

Orion: SHE FINALLY SAID I LOVE YOU! YES!

Gellert: ABOUT BLOODY TIME!

Queenie: Those three really are as sweet as pie.

Orion: Why did you have to be so creepy, by the way, Queenie?

Queenie: I was not creepy!

Gellert: You were. Even I would not have done that.

Orion: No, you would have announced your presence with fireworks.

Gellert: As one should!

Oh dear … See you later guys!

Kingmaker'sUmbreon