A/N: I had two weeks and this is what I come up with, I hope you like it but it seems I've been struck by a case of 'unlucky thirteen'. Thanks to all who reviewed, I hope you like this one.
Disclaimer: Whatever.
~*~*~*~
To Right a Wrong
"Interrupting the evening's programme to bring you this breaking news report… information has just come into the WWN News Centre that a statement has just been released on behalf of the family of Mrs Hermione Granger-Krum by Mr Ronald Weasley in weekly newspaper The Quibbler, concerning the parentage of a pair of identical twins."
"The twins, Aimee and Maia Black, known for the stir created last October by their meeting with Miss Pansy Parkinson, girlfriend of known former Death Eater, Mr Draco Malfoy, are now being claimed for the family of Harry Potter, and not the House of Black as was earlier alleged."
"In the statement that appeared in a late, special issue of the paper, Mr Weasley declared: 'My only intention here is to settle an outstanding issue concerning the twins known as Maia Jae and Aimee Jean Black. I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, acting on the permission of my friend, Hermione Jane Granger-Krum, declares that the twins, Maia and Aimee, are the biological, natural-born daughters of Hermione Jane Granger-Potter and Harry James Potter, born the fifteenth of May, 1999. The twins are not relatives of Mr Draco Malfoy, Mr Sirius Black or Mr Regulus Black.'"
"There has been no information on whether there will be a name change, arrangements on where the twins are to stay for the upcoming Christmas vacation or whether they have met the surviving blood relatives of their father, the Muggle Dursleys."
It began with that late evening news broadcast via the Wizarding Wireless Network reporting the shocking statement that had been released in The Quibbler just hours before. Within minutes their headquarters were inundated with owls from anxious listeners demanding answers they could not provide. By the next morning, the Daily Prophet had scrapped its original Sunday front page to declare in bold, "Heiresses of the Chosen One: Meet Maia and Aimee Potter!" with a vivid photograph of the triumphant Maia hoisted on her team-mates shoulders and reaching down to her sister after her Quidditch victory. No one knew how they got the picture, and every headline and article for four pages after featured some mention of the twins.
And it had only just begun.
The Evening Prophet continued to build the momentum, adding its own, "French Connection: Transfer Students Potter's Secret Family!"
Somehow, they managed to procure a photograph of the twins in their first year at the Beauxbatons Academy, pale blue robes and all, and an interview with two of their friends, Constance Sauvignon and Lisette Betancourt. The two girls had little to provide in terms of what the reporters sought, and a third, Aubrey Huppert, actually asked, "Who's Harry Potter?"
Their former teacher, Madame Gwendoline Fontaine-much more informed than her students-had nothing but praise for them both, and doubly so when she was told the identity of their parents.
No one could reach Hermione, Ron, the Weasleys, or even the Dursleys, for comment.
Monday morning in the Great Hall (and it had to be Monday for the twins hid for much of Sunday), was an awkward affair. Aimee and Maia walked in for breakfast and immediately all conversation ceased and all eyes-and this included teachers-turned to them.
Taking their seats at their separate tables they smiled shyly at Ron, Padma and Professor Theoden, then tried to eat without looking up… but couldn't. Even Philippe was looking at them, an unreadable expression on his face, but staring nevertheless.
Inevitably, the intense scrutiny quickly drove away their appetites and they gave up. Snatching up a few sandwiches, they rushed back out of the hall and away to their weekend hiding place, Hagrid's hut, until classes began. The Daily Prophet headline today encouraging the attention, "It's In Their Genes: Researchers Claim Potter Twins as Magically Gifted as Father!"
But when classes did begin, it was more or less the same thing. As soon as they walked in they were stared at, and even if they turned to look the person directly in the eye. Ron could do little to stop it in Defence, Padma gave up after a few attempts and Professor Theoden didn't even try. Of course, that all came to an end in Charms when Aimee "accidentally" spelled a few of her classmates. That earned her two hours' worth of detention, but at least they stopped staring… now they whispered.
Hagrid welcomed them back to his hut before bedtime, but only for a short time, and just to tell them with an encouraging smile, "Don't mind yer little heads about it too much, same thing used ter happen ter Harry… it'll clear up after a while."
"What if it doesn't?" asked Maia, clearly worried.
"No, it will… yeh'll see," he told her. "Can't keep staring forever, now can they? And they won't when there's nothing to see."
Yes, and that worked quite well for Harry.
Tuesday, Hermione had their names officially changed to "Potter". Ron couldn't dissuade her, she refused to give them her late husband's name and she would not accept the suggestion of "Granger". The person who did it was still smarting from his wounds well into the night. The Evening Prophet spread the news with the headline, "It's Official: Twins Take On Father's Name!"
It was a welcome change from that morning, "Shh! It's a Secret: Wartime Affair Spawns Twins, Secret Marriage for Chosen One!"
It wasn't soon enough though, to stop Maia earning herself a detention after one too many people harassed her on the way to Quidditch practice: "Psst! Hey there! You… Potter! I mean Black! Granger! Whatever… ready for Ravenclaw Part Two?"
She had let everything slide until that one, it was just too lame.
Her detention was noticeably light, only a half-hour, but no one would dare accuse Professor Theoden of it-he was no Snape but he inspired as much fear as the real thing. And once she was free Ron called the twins into his office and gave them something he had kept since he left Hogwarts fourteen years before: the Marauder's Map and James Potter's Invisibility Cloak.
When they saw them on his desk, they didn't seem awed or even mildly surprised. And at their reactions neither was he, he guessed that Harry must have told them about that too. He ignored the twinge of annoyance at the loss of momentum, and that he probably didn't do it in person, and desperately tried to hold onto the moment. Harry may have told them about them, but he was giving them over.
Toying with an edge of the almost liquid silver of the Invisibility Cloak's material, Aimee turned to him and asked, "Why give it to us? I don't think Lord Voldemort's still alive and waiting to kill us… lead us down into the Chamber of Secrets or by some deranged accused murderer who's really our godfather…"
He smiled, "I know he isn't, but… this isn't mine, I can't give it to my son, and I won't give it to Philippe… it belongs to you…. Wait a minute, who's your godfather?"
She took the Map and spread it out on his desk, while Maia threw the Cloak round herself and went before the mirror, "You are… supposed to be-I think I'm going to be sick…"
Ron laughed, "It's not that bad… but maybe you shouldn't let Nearly Headless Nick see you like this, he might-"
He stopped mid-sentence when he heard Aimee utter, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
It was the clever pass to the map's secrets courtesy Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.
She looked back at his startled expression, and giggled.
Wednesday brought Witch Weekly into the fray with, "Forbidden: Secrets of Clandestine Potter-Granger Love Affair Revealed!"
All copies of the paper were immediately seized.
The so-called eye-witness accounts detailed some rather fantastical and sordid tales that were unbelievable as they were untrue. But a few copies still managed to slip past the censure, and it wasn't long before almost the entire school was buzzing about it. Ron threatened quite a few with detention, which quieted most of the buzzing, but it was much too late. He had to be grateful though, that at least no one mentioned it to the twins.
Of course it probably had something to do with the fact that Maia had sworn loudly at breakfast that she didn't care about detention, suspension or expulsion if it meant that they would leave her alone. No one in authority may have openly agreed with her, but they could not pretend that they didn't.
At lunchtime Ron took advantage of the scandal to rib a rather red-faced Hermione until she cried. To be fair, she was already upset about it so that she didn't take too well to his attempt at making light. Unfortunately, that only made him call over his mother to spend some of the day with her-much to her displeasure-and she ended up laughing herself to get her to leave.
That night after Astronomy, the sisters both received anonymous star charts, clipped from the paper, which apparently charted the romance of their parents. Undecided as to whether it was well-intentioned or not, they kept it anyway and put it up in their trunks.
Thursday morning, Maia and Aimee Potter received a visit from the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour-which Professor McGonagall ended quickly-and a number of interview requests. But it was not ended fast enough to prevent him, in the presence of a number of reporters and before the entire school for that matter, from presenting the twins with a number of their father's posthumous awards.
As he handed them over, he said with a smile, "Standing up here with these two lovely young ladies, I cannot help but wonder upon an infamous newspaper headline in the early days after the war. 'The Death Eaters' Triumph' it had declared when we found ourselves without a hero to praise. But no more… here we have his children, concealed-as so many others during those dark times-for their protection, or maybe it was 'kept'…. Kept until we were ready for them, the symbols of our triumph, we have been vindicated!"
The look on the twins' faces spoke volumes. Much like Harry they weren't too thrilled by the attention brought by their newfound and somewhat ill-gotten fame… or the idea of being Minister Scrimgeour's poster-girls. And much like he had taken to doing during later days of the war, the Minister made a point of ignoring them.
Fresh off the morning's misadventure then, there was a minor misunderstanding with Philippe-though they didn't much care to correct his view that they were actually revelling in the attention-which was ended by Ron threatening to tell his parents. But Philippe had been irrationally moody-not that they were paying attention to him for any reason whatsoever-since that Monday. The thought of his parents' scolding should they learn of his behaviour may have silenced him, but did little to change anything else.
Gilderoy Lockhart sent them autographed copies of his autobiographies, and Memories in Magic. Ron offered to dispose of the books for them, but was left thoroughly scandalised instead when Maia declared that she and Aimee were "great fans". No amount of assurances after that they were merely joking seemed to convince him that they hadn't been bewitched.
There was some hate-mail-which they never opened for Ron had all of their mail confiscated-and fan-mail, from which he gave them the cards and toys sent by well-wishers. They couldn't conceal their embarrassment at receiving them during a break between classes. Maia's sweet smile concealed the whispered threat to "make him pay" to her sister after.
In the press, the only headline that concerned them was in the Daily Prophet's, "Potter or Krum? Family of Viktor Krum Want Answers on 2004 Marriage!"
It took much of the lunch break for Hermione to assure them that it was not their fault that her in-laws were upset. When they went back to their classes though, it was clear that they didn't entirely believe her, but how could they? The Krum family weren't too pleased that the virtuous bride they thought Viktor had married hadn't even been one to her first marriage… it was bad enough already that she was Muggle-born.
The highlight of the day then, came when Ron introduced them to Rosalie Dursley. He would never forgive her family for what they did to Harry but they were still their family and he couldn't deny them the chance to hate them on their own.
After a somewhat uncomfortable start, the three girls spoke for nearly an hour and then left Hagrid's hut on far better terms than Harry and Dudley had possibly ever had. The hut had been chosen as it was now the most private place in school, one too many students had seen them going in to Ron's office… and it was neutral ground in case of trouble.
There were some surprises though, Rosalie knew quite a lot about Harry, and in fact, had been told about him by Petunia the day she received her Hogwarts letter. The twins confessed that they had known about Rosalie before they came to Hogwarts, and that Amaranthe had even arranged for them to go to the Dursleys if anything happened to her before they began their formal Wizarding education. Thankfully, of course, nothing had allowed that to occur. And at the end of the meeting there was a promise to visit each other during the Christmas vacation, Number Four, Privet Drive clearly excluded as a location.
Proud of himself then, Ron sent a letter to Petunia, carefully explaining to her about the twins and reassuring her that she would never have to see them.
A last surprise before bedtime, Petunia sent back the owl with a note, on which were scribed three words: "Okay, thank you."
Friday, was thankfully uneventful all the way to Potions. No one stared, whispered, joked, pointed, or even bothered with them much. News headlines had gone back to the usual, the twins had been relegated to the third page and they weren't even mentioned in all the day's WWN broadcasts. They had slipped into the background again, and though being addressed as "Miss Potter" would take some getting used to, it was over.
Well, for the twins at least.
For Hermione, Ron, Lupin, Mr and Mrs Weasley, and Snape, the search for Harry had just begun.
~*~*~*~
Saturday, began sunny.
The sky was clear, a deep cerulean touched only by faint wisps of white clouds as the day progressed. With most birds gone on their annual migration, and some animals lost to hibernation it was quiet. But then it was also rather cold, the bright sun mocking all who dared to step out of the warmth of their homes. Thankfully though, the small party of Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Lupin, Mr and Mrs Weasley and Snape gathered at Malfoy Manor for the meeting (yes, Malfoy Manor) had arrived before the contemptuous sunrise. The purpose of their meeting was important but not entirely worth freezing to death for.
No one had been more surprised than Draco Malfoy when he was roused from his bed at dawn by an insistent knocking and upon answering the door found the unlikely visitors awaiting him, warmly bundled for the early morning trip. He had come down angry, prepared to give the rude ne'er-do-wells a piece of his mind and when he saw them the words died in his throat. Never, not once ever, in his wildest imagination had he dreamed that he would ever see them there… and yet they were, all bundled up and waiting to be invited in from the cold.
He couldn't even speak, just stood looking at them until finally Ginny pushed past him saying casually, "Thank you, I thought we would freeze to death standing out there in the cold."
The others followed her lead, muttering greetings and depositing their cloaks, coats and hats with him at the door before continuing on into the living room and making themselves quite at home.
Ron ordered some cups of coffee and tea of the house elves, Hermione scolded him for it, Ginny laughed. Mr and Mrs Weasley took the time to survey some of the antique vases in the room-he made a mental note to check if anything was missing after they left-and then took the chairs closest to the huge fireplace-as everything in Malfoy Manor, exaggerated, over-embellished and old-where Mrs Weasley immediately started a fire. And the last through the door, the ones responsible for the whole thing, Severus Snape and Remus Lupin walked in and took up positions in the corners-though noticeably not looking in the other's direction or at him as they went. After all, one was the reason he was now under house arrest instead of in Azkaban, and the other was his perpetual guardian and therefore had unlimited access to the Manor and its sole occupant.
Confused, but quite aware that no protest he could come up with would get rid of them, he closed the door, dumped their cloaks on the floor and went into the living room after them.
In his house, in this house, something that would probably have never happened were his parents still alive, now sat Mr Arthur and Mrs Molly Weasley, blood-traitors, two of their blood-betraying brood, Ron and Ginny-also former schoolmates and nemeses-the werewolf Remus Lupin, and of course, worst of all, the Mudblood-now also to be known as Potter's mistress-Hermione Granger. Snape was a traitor to the cause but a common visitor, his freedom assured by the 'services' he had provided in the war while Draco was imprisoned for a 'dangerous' interest in the Dark Arts.
His parents were well and surely turned over in their graves.
Smoothening his silken pyjamas and hair, and settling into his armchair at the fireplace, he yawned and asked, "Okay, wonderful, I now see that it's 'walk-all-over-Draco' season and you all have finally decided to join the fun, desecrating the home of my ancestors in the process…. What's this about; I'm missing beauty sleep…."
Ginny groaned, "Don't tell me you've decided to give the great Zabini a run for his money in the posing department, I thought you had more self-respect than that…."
He glared at her, "Listen Weasley, I don't have time for nonsense, you all come to my house at five in the morning without invitation and settle in like we're all here for a spot of tea… I'll be what I like, thank you very much."
Hermione cut in before Ginny could retort, "Malfoy, please, we wouldn't be 'bothering' you if it wasn't important. And before you start we're not accusing you of anything or trying to… but it does involve you and therefore we've come here for our meeting. I'm sure you've heard the announcement earlier this week?"
In the face of such sweetness how could he be anything other than himself?
He scoffed, "Heard it? It's all I can bloody know in this place seeing that I can't leave without permission. Potter knocked you up in the middle of the war while Weasley here was busy recuperating from serious injuries-great friends you two were by the way, how'd you take it Weasel?"
Ron grunted but gave no reply, and Draco shrugged, "Fine then, be that way… so what does that have to do with me? I had nothing to do with Pansy's visit and I certainly don't care for the hate-mail I hear some have sent your kids. If I wanted to hurt you, I'd hurt you, not them."
"I've already explained that to them, Mr Malfoy, but Miss Granger here wanted to speak to you…" explained Snape.
"Yes," began Hermione, taking over, "I wanted to hear it from your mouth, your words that your aunt is no longer after Harry."
He looked at her stunned. Then he turned to look at Snape and the others, and then back to her… and finally burst out laughing.
"You come here, all of you, at five in the morning to ask me that? To find out if my dear aunt is after your late husband? Have all of you forgotten Owl Post? Are your owls sick? Are they dead? Well anyway, rest assured that she isn't, but she and my father must be having kittens waiting for the chance to get him in hell. She died two years ago."
"T-two years, did you just say that she died two years ago? So what was that load of crap Snape's been feeding us since we found out that he's partially responsible for Harry still being out there? She's been dead this whole time?" asked Ron, clearly shocked and none too amused.
"Harry is still out… you mean Scarhead is… Scarhead is still alive?" asked Draco, his turn to express surprise.
Ron made quite of show of trying not to roll his eyes, "Yes, yes, don't act like you don't know… you just said about your aunt waiting to… well, whatever, this is done, let's go."
Ron rose at once, heading for the door, but halted when no one followed, and turned back to them annoyed and impatient.
"It was worth the shot…" muttered Draco, giving him a sympathetic but clearly condescending smile. "But seriously, you've got what you wanted, why aren't you leaving?"
Lupin spoke up quickly, "There is more, and yours is the most private place to discuss it. Was there, is there still a plan of action to kill, injure or in any way attack Harry, Hermione or their children should he ever show himself? Severus here refuses to answer-"
"That is because there is nothing to say, I know nothing. When last I saw Potter it was maybe nine years ago when he was finally well enough to leave my care entirely. He went off to Aberdeen as Kent MacLachlan, and then the last message was shortly before the children went to France, then he was James Anderson of Scarborough-"
"Yeah, and I was a bloody queen-" cut in Ron, crossly.
"If Potter ever shows himself, and now that my aunt is in the 'beyond', I doubt they'll try anything. But if you don't believe me, talk to Pansy Parkinson-no she's not my girlfriend anymore… you know, you all really should screen my visitors, I think she's well in with them now and those 'neo-Death Eaters'-anyway, talk to her instead, she might know. And maybe Blaise Zabini too, he's always with her though I doubt he's as stupid as he has to be to associate with them-narcissistic little upstarts. Until then, please leave, like I said before I was sleeping when you came in," Draco told them and yawned for added effect.
They ignored it, Hermione asking, "But there is a possibility that they might try something still… right?"
"Maybe, but since no one's seen him properly in years, and there have been some 'unexplained' attacks on Death Eaters in the past, there may not be. He killed the Dark Lord, and apart from my mad aunt to them that says something. The Dark Lord was one of the most powerful Dark Wizards they had ever heard of… or at least bad enough that you respect the person who stops him, even if it was just Scarhead," Draco replied.
At this answer, Hermione was silent a moment and then turned to the others. Ron read from her face what she was thinking: There is nothing keeping him from us, not anymore at least, hasn't been for two years, we can be a family again.
But she did not say it, instead she began, "So how do we know if this Blackpool address is his current?"
"The children said he wrote back didn't they, the letter had to have come from somewhere…" said Mr Weasley.
"Yes it did, but it didn't have to be there, remember what I told you about him moving about, why don't you ask them if he left a name in the letter?" asked Snape.
"He's their father and they know it, he wouldn't need an alias," protested Ginny.
"He would if he didn't want his secret discovered. Find out to whom the letter was addressed and if this person is still in Blackpool and you have him. Going without an alias when you don't want to be found is foolish, but hiding in plain sight, and especially under some name like Henri Black or whatever his simple mind could come up with isn't," Snape told her with an annoyed air. "Honestly, how did any of you survive the war?"
"We didn't have you to help us fake our deaths," said Ron, glaring at him.
There was a protracted silence where this continued-Ron glaring, Snape ignoring him-and then Draco yawned again, "Well children, this was all lots of fun, but if you'll excuse me, Uncle Draco has to sleep…."
"Oh no, you don't Malfoy," said Ron. "We're not done yet."
"I think we are. I've already told you what you wanted to know. Bellatrix is dead and not after Scarhead, and I've just confirmed that I don't care about the existence of his offspring. The only thing you could possibly want now is to threaten me to keep it secret, well, done. I solemnly swear that I have nothing to say, that I won't tell anyone about them or this meeting here and that if anyone contacts me with any plans on hurting them you'll be the first to know," said Draco, with a hand to his breast and standing to come to attention.
"With our meeting… so who's going to Blackpool to confirm the address?" asked Ron, ignoring Draco's action. "I'll do it, but I have school, Hermione has to go to work or they'll dismiss her, the rest of you really don't have much to do, and I don't think Snape would-"
"I'm going, alone," said Hermione, cutting him off.
"What?" Ron asked, turning to look at her, clearly shocked.
"Of all of us-I'm sorry-but I think I'm the one who needs the explanation most, he left me and our daughters behind, I deserve an answer for that," she replied.
"Yes, you do, but so do the rest of us, how can you expect us to just sit by and let you go on your own?" demanded Ginny.
Draco settled into his chair again to listen in.
"I don't, but I… I want to speak with him first, alone… you have to understand, I-I need to do this…" Hermione tried to explain.
"Ron, tell her this is crazy, that we go together…" she turned to her brother and pled.
Ron looked at both women a moment, and then replied, "I can't Ginny, and you know Hermione never listens to me…. If she wants to see Harry, then she should, alone… they've got some personal stuff to sort out before we kill him."
Draco snorted.
Ginny at once turned to their parents, "Tell him to listen, please, I need to see him too! I need-"
"You need to focus on your wedding," began Mrs Weasley, cutting her off. "Hermione really should see him first, alone…. After what we did, you all were really just an unintentional audience… and with Mr Malfoy's confirmation here that it should be all right… they have children together, you two broke up before he went to-"
Lupin cut in quickly to silence Ginny's coming protest, "Actually, I think it would be good for someone to accompany Hermione to Blackpool. You would appreciate the heightened threat to your safety since your announcement, Miss Granger. We may find nothing in Blackpool but an empty house, or a trap, and your children need you-something we should have remembered-so it is only right that you not go there without some escort."
Hermione gave an exasperated sigh, "Fine then, Ron can come with me."
Ron shifted nervously in his seat, "H-Hermione… I don't think that would really be a good idea, if you want to talk to Harry you should know that I may not be too keen on talking when I see him. It's hard enough talking to them here as it is…."
Mrs Weasley dropped her head slightly, Lupin looked apologetic, but Snape merely settled himself further into his seat. Draco yawned again.
"Okay, okay… I'll take Caspar. He has to meet him anyway, and I'm sorry, but I don't want anyone here with me when he does. I really need to speak to Harry alone, I need… I don't know, but I want to hear it from him that he didn't just up and abandon us on some flimsy excuse of Snape's," replied Hermione, seriously.
"Miss Granger, do you wish to hear the details of the night your parents died?" demanded Snape.
"Severus…" began Lupin and Mrs Weasley, warningly.
He ignored them.
"Flimsy excuse…? If your husband hadn't decided to be his usual chivalrous self and tried to help restore memories that… well, if he hadn't been there they wouldn't be dead now. He and every one he dared go near after the war's end was a target, leaving you was the best move he made. You may have always been targets but not like this, you can't imagine what they could have done to you had he not left. He was in no position to help you and you all could not help yourselves, and especially since there was a war between calling you heroes or vigilantes. That last battle took a toll on you and you all know it, Mr Weasley here could barely walk for months!"
"As long as I wasn't dead I would done something!" declared Ron.
Again Snape ignored the protest.
"As a matter of fact, the first mistake you made was carelessly rutting in the middle of a war when there were people around you dying. Some ridiculous prophecy may have claimed that Potter was the saviour of us all but I always knew that he was the same arrogant fool his father was-" he continued over Ron's interruption.
"That's ridiculous!" snapped Hermione, her voice rising. "You hated Harry before you even got to know him; you hated his father and just transferred that to him the day he stepped into your class. I know Harry and I made a mistake, but you took advantage of the consequences in some idle revenge plot you must have planned the day they asked you to make the potion. Harry left on your word, the word of a man he does not trust! I was given a potion you well knew the effects of and possibly more than Harry's dosage despite weight difference! You helped them, probably even convinced them to keep our children away from us well after it was safe again and I'm sure for the simple purpose of getting back at James Potter for years of humiliation. You can't get him, get his children and grand-children… but I have to know, what did we really ever do to you?"
Snape nearly roared, "This has nothing to do with that! Leave the conspiracy theories to the young Mr Weasley here's wife. The danger was very real, even Molly knew that the minute she walked into that kitchen and saw you in all your expectant glory. The Dark Lord could have killed you, or at worst raised your beloved daughters into the same madness you were supposed to be fighting against. In fact, you were a distraction to Potter that at least ensured that that madness dragged on unnecessarily longer than it should have, and for all your intelligence you still don't seem to have noticed that. You want to blame someone for your family being split up, blame yourself and Potter. You were irresponsible, conceited and excessively foolish, and the worst part of it all was that you knew exactly what you were doing was wrong."
"We had no idea that it would have gotten that far, I had never even thought of him in that way until that night," protested Hermione, fighting a rising blush.
"Quite a leap, no wonder you didn't want to marry him after you found out your little surprise, was it only supposed to be a temporary fling?" demanded Snape.
Ron wanted to cut in but could not wholly bring himself to. The others could say nothing either, other than Mrs Weasley's faint protests at Snape's argument, and Draco didn't want them to. This was the most excitement he had had since Hallowe'en.
"I will not apologise for any action I've taken since I met you and Mr Potter in that forest that winter twelve years ago. I did what I had to as the situation required. I found out you were pregnant I informed the others to help keep it quiet. They realised the danger of the Dark Lord invading Potter's mind and finding your secret, I brewed the potion for him-not you, you should have stayed with your children as any good mother would, so you really can't blame them for that either. Potter defeated the Dark Lord; I concealed him so that he wouldn't go the way of the Longbottoms, his parents and the hundreds of others who had ever dared to cross the path of one Tom Marvolo Riddle the wrong way. Every danger you faced was real, surviving them must have gotten to your heads and made you think you were invincible, but you weren't and neither were those two little girls."
"It was still our decision to make, all of it," said Hermione.
"Yes, it was, but as Dumbledore reasoned the day he took Potter to the home of his relatives: No matter how unpleasant it was going to be, in the best interests of those involved and in the absence of good judgement and reason, it had to be done," Snape told.
"You bastard," Ron growled, finally coming to her rescue, rising from his seat.
For a time Hermione had nothing to say after this, and then she turned away and headed for the door, "I'm going, and taking my son with me. You will all be the first to know how it went. Good day to you, don't forget to Obliviate Draco on your way out."
Ron sighed, but Draco was up in an instant too, and repeating, "Yes, it is time for you to be leaving, and don't forget to… hey, what?"
~*~*~*~
"Mischief Managed," was the soft whisper in the darkness of the Owlery, followed by a gentle rustling and the twins stepped out of the shadows to find a familiar roost.
"Lumos," said Aimee, the tip of her wand lit up and she held it above their heads, "Where's Mercury?"
"Probably out hunting, we may have to use a school owl," replied Maia, after a moment's scanning revealed nothing but his empty place.
Aimee sighed, "Where is he? It's cold up here… but we haven't finished with the letter yet anyway… so we could wait a while."
Maia lit up her wand and drew the small envelope from her pocket, "What more are we going to put in it? This is all that's happened to us this week, me winning for Hufflepuff, meeting with Mama, Caspar, and Rosie… hey! Oh no, you don't, we're not going to tell him that, he and Mama have to talk now."
"I know, but we should at least give him some warning, what if she shows up and he thinks it's a trap? Polyjuice Potion, remember? It's what all the impostors are taking, he might stun her," said Aimee.
"Funny. Stop being so dramatic, and besides, if you're going to get yelled at it's best to get it quickly and over with than waiting for it to get worse. They might hex him," reasoned Maia.
"Papa's not a coward; he's not going to run away. Now who's being dramatic?" asked Aimee… with an echo.
Both girls immediately froze and turned to the doorway, just as Philippe stepped into it, dressed in his pyjamas and a heavy robe. He had followed them, all the way from Gryffindor Tower without Invisibility Cloak or Marauder's Map and hadn't been cornered by Filch, Mrs Norris or noticed by them on the map.
How perfect was that, why didn't things work for you when you needed them to?
But now that he had them, instead of gloating, threatening to tell or otherwise smirking, he looked rather sheepish and muttered, "I was studying when Aimee went out with you, and when you didn't come back in I went looking… first place I thought you'd be too… I saw you here before on Hallowe'en."
Neither replied, nor moved for that matter, staring at him in muted surprise and alarm. He had followed them, and this wasn't the first time.
He stepped away from the doorway and came over to them, lighting up his own wand. As soon as it did though, he noticed the envelope in Maia's hand. He paused at once, "You're writing to him again, aren't you? Your father…? You did it at Hallowe'en and now you're doing it again… going to tell him that Aunt Hermione's coming to him?"
Aimee quickly regained her speech, "So what if we are? We always write to him, just because we have Mama now doesn't mean we'll stop."
"I never said you should…" said Philippe, defensively. "But… why didn't you tell someone something sooner, like when you first came here… why'd you wait this long if you really are who you say are?"
Both girls looked at him open-mouthed in astonishment. But astonishment swiftly turned to anger.
"Would you have believed us if we had just come in and said we were Harry Potter's long-lost children? No, you wouldn't, and Tantie Marie had already warned us that Mama didn't remember us either. And this too, your grandmother and Mr Lupin knew about us, why would they help our little scam?" demanded Maia, irritably.
"Sorry… I was just… anyway, so are you really going to tell him that your mother's coming? Don't you think he knows that already?" asked Philippe, attempting to change the subject.
"He doesn't know when," replied Aimee. "If you two won't believe that he might think she's an impostor, what if he isn't home when she goes there? She might think that he's gone again or something. If he's going to be yelled at and get it over with then he at least should be there when it happens, or it could really go to hexes…. Or what if it's too dangerous for her to meet him at the house, and something happens when she arrives? We've just gotten her again; I don't want to lose her."
Maia exhaled heavily, "Here's the quill, just scribble it in as a P.S., pick an owl and we can go before Filch catches us. And hurry, s'il vous plait?" <Please?>
Aimee took the quill, spread the letter out on her knee and quickly scribbled: "Mama is coming to see you next week, Saturday night. When she spoke to us, we had to tell her where you were. We don't know if she'll be alone but Professor Weasley Uncle Ron said that she doesn't want them with her and he doesn't want to go. Sorry. Bonne nuit,
Aimee, Maia."
Maia then took the letter, refolded it, sealed it in the envelope and scanned the roosts again for Mercury. He was back, and carefully preening himself with the remnants of what could have been a mouse still stuck in his beak.
Grimacing slightly, she called him down to them and attached the envelope to his foot. He nipped at her fingers and took off at once to the night.
With him gone, the girls turned back to Philippe. He was still standing in the doorway, looking at them, and said now, "Aren't you two going to go to bed now… you know, you didn't have to sneak up here after hours to send a letter, no one would care."
Aimee gave a slightly sarcastic smile, "Except that we're 'Potters' now, we couldn't get up here unless we went after hours. You see the paper this morning? Here's a copy-Unsolved Mystery: How Did Potters Keep Their Secret? I heard the first few words and I don't care anymore, I don't want to know why they weren't with us, I just want us together again."
"Your Mum does, and Uncle Ron… they had a meeting this morning, Aunt Ginny told me, and she's probably going to go look for him tonight. She was going to take your brother but she decided not to, something about her in-laws… if she sees your owl she might get mad," he told them.
"We're just making sure he's there, she'll be madder if he isn't," said Maia. "Wait a minute, did you say 'tonight'?"
No sooner than had the large grey owl descended into the window of the shabby old beach house than did the snowy white strut over to it, snatch free the small envelope on its leg and take off into the night to Wiltshire. The grey owl waited until it had disappeared, pecked at an owl treat on the table nearby, took up the letter the white owl had brought and left as well, heading back the way it came.
This was the pattern it had come to know from the first day it had been given a letter by the twins. Whenever it arrived at the beach house the white owl would be waiting and she would take the letter away, apparently to a master that no longer lived there. In turn, there was always a letter to be taken back to the school, as he was delivering now, soaring over the firefly lights of the blackened, slumbering earth while determinedly ignoring the call of the hunt.
Why this was so was not for his concern, and if there was another letter to be delivered the snowy owl would bring it, his job for the night was done.
But there wasn't another letter to deliver, that was not the plan, not at all the plan for tonight.
Inadvertently, unintentionally, the message he had brought had ruined it. And neither he nor those who had sent it would know how much. For as it was, the snowy owl had not really been waiting on him to deliver a letter, it was awaiting another.
A woman, who arrived soon after both had left and knocked and called and searched in vain until realising no one was home. A woman, who instead of reacting with the expected anger, simply dropped onto the steps of the back porch facing the sea and cried to the waves breaking on the shore.
All this way, at this late hour for nothing, all that argument, all that yelling for no one, he didn't want them to find them. He had run away because he wasn't ready for what she had forced him into, he didn't want her, he didn't want them….
And then, once she had determined that she had been there long enough, and that no one was coming, walked back round to the front of the house, away to a grove of trees near the property and Disapparated.
How like cruel irony then that she had arrived too late and would leave too soon. For, as the soft "pop" of her departure dissipated to the sound of the sea, the snowy white owl appeared again. Back again, this time, to stand silent guardian in a now hopeless watch.
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