My Family

It was not difficult for Dorea to deduce when fighting was taking place on the continent. St Mungo's would become inundated with the wounded whenever it did, but despite the lack of admissions due to the war, she had not heard from Charlus or Arcturus in almost a month since the former had left her company.

It was becoming quite the concern for her.

Had Charlus changed his mind?

The thought filled her with dread, and though she tried to not dwell on such a maudlin prospect, she couldn't help it.

If Charlus was having second thoughts, his silence was understandable, but it did not account for her brother's.

Ever since he had pledged himself to the war, no more than a week would pass without a missive of sorts from him.

"Go home, Black," Healer Camden instructed. "You may as well get as much rest as you can before the next influx."

"Are you expecting one?"

"The continent will not remain at peace," Camden sighed. "Not for much longer at least."

Dorea nodded her agreement before readying herself and taking her leave of the hospital.

She had an early start the following morning so the extra hour or so she had been granted was much appreciated, if of course her respite was not intruded upon by a sudden need of her presence here.

Arriving home, she was greeted by Elgar, the ever-dutiful elf relieving her of her coat before ushering her into the kitchen where he had a pot of tea ready for her.

Next to the pot was an unusually large stack of letters, unusual as Dorea only ever received one letter from Lord Parkinson per month, and two or three from both Charlus and Arcturus.

Before her now was four envelopes.

She spread them out in front of her and recognised the handwriting on three, one from each of her correspondents, and one in a hand that was not familiar.

This one was the thickest, but it was the one from Lord Parkinson she read first.

As expected, it was merely a report on the affairs of the family that the man was overseeing on Arcturus's behalf.

Putting it aside to add to the others she had received from the man, she reached for the one with Charlus's familiar scrawl.

Opening it, she frowned at how short his note was.

Dorea,

I am sorry that I have not written, but once you read the letter from your brother, you will understand.

Yours always,

Charlus

His words gave nothing away, but the feeling of trepidation she had been feeling over the past few weeks returned as broke the seal on the missive received from Arcturus.

To Dorea,

Imagine my surprise when I was approached by Lord Potter to negotiate a marriage contract between him and yourself.

I was aware the two of you were communicating, but to learn that your affections for one another had become so deep was shocking.

I expected that Charlus would eventually reveal that he was writing to you and perhaps seek permission to court you. Needless to say, I was stunned, but having spoken to him in depth, I have no reason to believe that his intentions towards you are nothing short of honourable.

I do not like being surprised as a rule, but under the assurances he gave, I have given the match my blessing under the condition that you are happy with it.

If you are not, Potter can hang for all I care and I have told him this.

You will receive a copy of the contract for your approval, and you need only sign and return it to our family law firm.

Upon doing so, they will prepare the formal announcement.

The contract is standard, but I would urge you to read through the agreed upon terms made between myself and Charlus.

If this is truly what you want, you have my blessing.

I have watched you grow into a wonderful woman that I could not be prouder of and having spent as much time with Charlus over the years, I have no doubt that he is a good man that will treat you well.

If he doesn't, I will personally make sure the war we are fighting feels like a leisurely stroll through the park with what I will do to him.

Love,

Arcturus

Dorea gave a watery chuckle at her brother's declaration as she wiped a tear from her eyes, her worries finally abated.

Charlus had kept his word and spoken to Arcturus, and she felt foolish for the doubts she'd had, though a new concern rose as she placed his letter with Charlus's and picked up the last of the pile.

This one could only be the contract, and Dorea found herself wondering just what agreement the two men had reached in her absence.

Knowing there was only one way to find out, she released a deep breath before opening it.

Inside was a folded-up wad of parchment adorned with the wax seal of both the Black and Potter families along with a separate note that Dorea read first.

Dear Miss Black,

Please find enclosed the original copy of a marriage contract dated 28/06/1941 signed by both Lord Potter and Lord Black.

I offer you my congratulations on such a momentous and unprecedented match and look forward to a response from yourself.

Best Wishes,

Leonard Fawley,

Contracts Manager

Fawley, Smith, and Goldstein Practitioners of Wizarding Law

It was with a trembling hand that she reached for the sealed accompaniment, the sight of both family crests on one official document likely never having been seen before.

This truly was an unprecedented occurrence and were it not for the anxiety that had gripped her, she would have appreciated it more for what it was, but she was concerned.

Charlus had stated that there was nothing Arcturus could ask of him that would be too much, and she hoped her brother had not attempted to exploit him because of it nor that Charlus had made too many concessions.

Taking a few calming breaths, she broke both seals and unfurled the parchment.

Dorea had never been educated on contracts, her father never seeing fit to do so as such things would never be her responsibility, and because of that, she could barely make head nor tail of the jargon used.

She would have to take Arcturus's word that it was a standard marriage contract and was confident that he would not have signed it if he was displeased with anything included.

Instead of focusing on the paragraphs of jargon-filled prose, she skipped ahead until she reached the page that explained the terms of the agreement between Arcturus and Charlus, frowning as she did so.

Terms of Agreement

Listed below are the terms of the above agreement, some of which being attached to a timescale in which they must be fulfilled.

These have been noted where appropriate and will automatically be altered when these conditions have been reached.

If, for any reason, one or more terms are near expiration and have yet to be honoured/fulfilled, all parties named in the document will be notified with sufficient notice so that they may be.

The terms are as follows:

- At the request of Lord Charlus Potter, the sum of 1 Galleon will be paid by Lord Arcturus Black in the form of a dowry. (Fulfilled)

- At the request of both parties, there will be no requirement to offer assistance/support with regards to politics, agendas, or the passing of laws if it does not coincide with the traditional, political interests of their respective houses. Assistance may be given freely, but it shall not be insisted upon due to a relationship through marriage.

- At the request of Lord Arcturus Black, any male born of the Potter line stemming from Miss Dorea Constance Black and Lord Charlus Potter will become the Heir of House Black if no male heir is available from the direct line of the future Lord. This is subject to change at the discretion of any future Lord Black if they deem it to be necessary.

- At the request of both parties, should either family find themselves in a position where they are unable to provide suitable care and upbringing for an heir befitting their station, that care will, without prejudice, revert to the other family to ensure suitable preparation for future responsibilities. This is to coincide with the second term of this agreement, and in addendum to that, the heir should be educated in the traditions and practices of their primary paternal family.

- At the request of both parties, the agreement outlined shall have no impact on current or future business endeavours of either house nor does it supersede the autonomy to solidify or create any further alliances, be they political or personal, chosen to pursue by each house respectively.

The contents of this agreement and the terms hereby agreed upon will be made available in the public archives as per the agreement of both parties and will be available for any and all who wish to peruse the contents at their leisure.

Dorea was relieved but also thoughtful as she finished reading the terms of the contract.

In essence, neither house gained much other than assurances that they be allowed to continue in accordance with their separate traditions and were secure in the knowledge that the family lines would be secured through a mutual agreement of fostering if such a thing became necessary.

Well, Charlus had also gained a galleon as a dowry, something that amused Dorea.

The most important thing she took away from the terms, however, was that it was being made clear to all that this was not a political or financial agreement, but one that both Dorea and Charlus desired for nothing more than their affections for one another.

That would mollify those who would claim that the traditions of the families were being changed to accommodate the match to an extent, but most would still be shocked and displeased when the announcement was made.

Charlus was a desirable match for most families, and though Dorea was merely a daughter of a patriarchal one, the name she carried was equally valuable to many who wished to better their social standing.

With the two of them opting to marry each other, it would very much leave the social standings as they currently were, a rather sour prospect for many a lord who had hoped to improve their own by association with either of the prominent families.

Thumbing her way through the rest of the contract, she reached the final page where she found both Charlus and Arcturus had signed with a final section left blank to be filled by her own.

It felt to be almost dreamlike as she readied her quill.

Even since before she had graduated from Hogwarts she had allowed her hope to blossom to the point that she had envisioned an accord being reached between hers and Charlus's families, and though it hadn't transpired as she had imagined, Dorea was no less elated.

With her hand still trembling, she signed the document before replacing it in the envelope and sending it off immediately, her future now decided.

She would not be marrying one of the awful heirs of a lord of her father's choosing, but she would be marrying the man she loved, and she could not have asked for anything better.

She would, in the future, become Lady Dorea Potter, a prospect that filled her with more joy than she could ever show in gratitude to her brother.

(Break)

Having been unable to send reinforcements in time to Romania, and subsequently losing the rushed attempt to re-establish themselves in the country, Grindelwald's men had retreated, only to set up a strong defensive border.

The men of the ICW now found themselves in a somewhat similar position to what they had faced during their time in the trenches between France and Belgium, yet this time, they were the aggressors.

Harry was not content with holding their lines and it was him and the forces under his command taking the fight to Grindelwald.

Much to his chagrin, progress on the front was only successful in small increments, but slowly and steadily, they were beating Grindelwald's followers back.

When he was not overseeing the operation, he was assisting with the relief work across Romania, much of his focus being on the basilisk farm and ensuring his wishes regarding it were being carried out to keep both the snakes and the workers safe.

It was an arduous process and one that would involve dealing directly with the ICW to seek approval for moving and housing the heavily regulated creatures.

He could see no reason why Abreo or any other representative would object, but he had been warned by Vasile that the paperwork alone was extensive.

Currently, he was awaiting the arrival of the documents, but his mind was occupied elsewhere.

The due date for the birth of his and Minerva's baby was drawing ever closer, and it had been months since he had seen her.

She wrote often informing him of the outcome of her healer appointments and what she had purchased in his absence, but it was not the same as being there.

From what he could gather, she and the baby were happy and healthy, something that relieved him greatly, but it didn't stop him feeling uninvolved and even useless being so far away from her.

He would have preferred that the war had been concluded, but it wasn't to be. It would be months, perhaps even years before that, and as frustrating as it was, he was determined to see it through to the end.

Grindelwald certainly would not allow him any respite, and Harry would not abandon his men.

No, that wouldn't do, and just as much as Grindelwald would not allow him any grace, Harry was not inclined to do so either.

The war would continue until a victor emerged, and Harry was determined to ensure that would be him and the men he commanded.

"How is the move coming along?" he asked Gilbert.

The man had been a blessing since he'd returned, taking it upon himself to assist the locals with the housing crisis, overseeing repairs, and had even found a new home for Sorina and her daughter, the very thing Harry wished to enquire about.

"It's going well," Gilbert replied with a smile.

"She's got you wrapped around her finger," Harry chuckled.

"She has not!" Gilbert denied. "Bloody hell, you try saying no to that little girl."

Harry chuckled as he shook his head.

"It's your own doing," he pointed out. "You caved to her the first time."

"I only lifted her on my shoulders," Gilbert defended.

"And have done so almost every day since."

Gilbert huffed, though he did not attempt to remove his smile.

He had become dedicated to the girl and her mother, and in doing so, he had shown a side to him that Harry had not seen.

If anything, it endeared the man to him.

"She's a good woman," Harry commented.

"She is," Gilbert agreed. "Too good for an old lag like me."

Before Harry could respond, he walked away shaking his head.

Gilbert had grown fond of Sorina and Iulia, and both of him.

Harry wouldn't pretend to understand in what context that was, but what he did know was that Gilbert felt unworthy of it.

Yes, the man had proven to be a pain throughout the time he'd known him, and for most of his life by his own admission, but he was not the same man Harry had met so many months prior.

Gilbert had grown beyond being a petty criminal, and Harry, along with the rest of those that regularly interacted with Gilbert, had come to respect and value him.

Still, Gilbert needed to recognise his own worth. That was not something anyone else could help him with.

Leaving the man to brood, Harry made his way to Vasile and the other men that had been employed thus far to oversee the running of the farm.

"How is the new lair coming along?" he asked.

Vasile shook his head and cursed under his breath in his native tongue.

"The new cavern is suitable, but tunnelling from it to the river will take some time," he explained, unrolling a map he had created and indicating the proposed line. "It is almost one hundred metres away, and the rock is thick here, here, and here," he added, pointing to the various points.

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"But everything else is going well?"

Vasile nodded, the other six men following suit.

"The snakes are more cooperative," Vasile said, relieved by the development. "They are, as you have seen for yourself, eating well, and they will not be milked for six months to ensure they are healthy enough to replenish it once it is taken. I do have one question though."

Harry gestured for the man to continue.

"What happens to them if they are no longer capable of producing venom."

Harry released a deep sigh.

It was something he had considered.

Having looked into the matter and speaking to the oldest of the basilisks, when one could no longer produce venom, it meant that their body was beginning to shut down, and it was only a matter of time before they died.

Harry did not understand why it happened, it simply just did on occasion, particularly when the snake was poorly nourished or living in unsuitable conditions.

He hoped that with the introduction into their new home, the serpents would begin a much better quality of life than they had become accustomed to, thus ensuring they continued to produce venom and remain healthy.

"We will address that if it continues to be a problem," he replied.

Vasile nodded his agreement.

"Sourcing food is not a problem," he reported. "Our supplier is happy to continue doing so at an increased rate."

"What food do they supply?"

"Cows mostly, but the basilisks seem to like goat and horse also."

"Then we will make sure they have plenty of it."

Vasile offered a shallow bow before addressing his companions.

"We will begin with the tunnelling," he informed Harry. "The sooner we start, the sooner they can be moved into a better home."

"Let me know if you come across any problems," Harry instructed. "I will be around."

Vasile offered a final nod before leading the others away and Harry headed back towards the centre of the magical district of Bucharest.

Accommodation was being prioritised, but some of the shopkeepers had resumed plying their trade, and Harry was hopeful that a full recovery for the country was possible.

He'd had his doubts, but finding himself and his men in an unwelcome, yet familiar stalemate had irked him, and his mood reflected that.

Soon, however, he had no doubt that the neighbouring Bulgaria would fall to the pressure he and the men of the ICW were applying, and if fortune favoured him, the delay would prove to only be a minor setback.

(Break)

"Well, who would have thought we would see the day that a Potter and a Black would marry," Rosalina commented as she perused The Daily Prophet.

It had been the topic of discussion in the castle, particularly amongst the pureblood students who understood the ramifications of such a coming together.

It had come as quite the shock to Minerva.

She had seen Charlus and Dorea Black interacting in the library on occasion whilst he had been attending Hogwarts after they had graduated, but she hadn't thought anything of it.

It was no secret that Harry and Charlus had come to Dorea's aide against McLaggen and his ilk, but never would Minerva had imagined it would result in this.

"It will certainly upset a few people," Rosalina snorted amusedly, an anticipatory grin tugging at her lips.

Minerva nodded.

Although she had no involvement in the politics of wizarding Britain, she knew enough to know that there would be those displeased by the development.

However, what piqued Minerva's interest wasn't of a political nature. What intrigued her most was that if Charlus and Dorea had married where Harry had come from, then she was his grandmother.

He hadn't mentioned such, likely because he hadn't wanted to interfere, but it was something else she had learned about.

She winced as another jolt of pain shot through her, the past few days having been filled by sporadic bouts of it.

"Are you okay?" Rosalina asked worriedly.

Minerva waved her off dismissively.

"It's been like this for a while now," she assured the woman. "I'm only a couple of weeks away now."

Rosalina frowned but didn't comment any further on it.

"Is everything ready?"

Minerva smiled as she nodded.

Almost every week her mother had insisted on taking her shopping to buy things for the baby, things that Minerva would not have even considered until she had need of them.

"My mother has been a lot of help," she said gratefully. "I wouldn't have known where to begin without her."

Rosalina chuckled.

"Now that you mention it, I wouldn't either," she replied with a shrug. "What does a baby even need other than food, sleep, and nappies?"

"The list is endless," Minerva sighed, "and the older they get, the more they need."

Rosalina grimaced.

"Rather you than me."

Minerva laughed.

She thought that Rosalina would be a wonderful mother, undoubtedly strict, but she would suit it better than the woman herself thought.

"I'm looking forward to it," Minerva declared, "but I'm terrified at the same time."

She winced again as she felt another jolt of pain and shifted in her seat to find a more comfortable position, only to gasp as a sudden warmth ran down her legs and onto the floor.

"Oh no," Minerva groaned as she looked up at Rosalina.

The woman had frozen, her expression one of abject horror, something she snapped out of quickly, but she became panicked.

"What do I do?"

"I don't know," Minerva yelped.

Rosalina looked around desperately.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing!"

"But it's not time yet!"

"Well, the baby says differently," Rosalina huffed. "This is what you get for having a baby with someone like Evans."

"Someone needs to tell him!" Minerva said worriedly.

"Getting you to a healer is more important," Rosalina countered as she transfigured the chair Minerva was seated on, giving it a set of wheels. "I'm not delivering the little bugger."

She wheeled Minerva out of the room and raced towards the hospital wing, relieved that it was later in the evening and the students were in their common rooms.

Bursting through the doors to where Rosalina hoped the healer would be, she startled Madame Morgana who had evidently been taking stock of her potions.

"She's having the baby!"

The seasoned healer remained calm, unlike Rosalina, and merely nodded as she made her way over to one of the beds.

"Bring her over," she instructed. "We need to make her as comfortable as we can."

Relieved, Rosalina did as she was bid and helped the woman shift Minerva from the chair onto the bed.

"I think it is best that you inform the headmaster," Madame Morgana urged. "Explain that Miss McGonagall is in labour and that no students should be sent here. Ask him to request for a healer from St Mungo's to attend the castle."

Rosalina nodded and all but sprinted from the room.

"Now, I need to check you over to make sure everything is as it should be," Madame Morgana explained. "Have your waters broken?"

Minerva nodded.

"And are you experiencing any pain?"

"It comes in short bursts," Minerva replied.

"How long has this been happening?"

"This is the third day."

Madame Morgana frowned as she used her wand to cut away the lower half of Minerva's robes before humming.

"You're dilating, but it could be some time before the baby is here. You're definitely in labour and probably have been for a while now."

"How long will it take?"

Madame Morgana shook her head as she smiled.

"You can never be sure with babies. It may take an hour; it could take another day. The best we can do is wait and make sure you're as comfortable as can be."

Minerva took a deep breath and nodded her understanding only to grit her teeth as another wave of pain washed over her.

Since her water had broken, it was becoming only more frequent and with increased intensity, making everything seem much more real now.

The past months had been something of a haze.

She had been buying items for the baby, had swelled to a size she wouldn't believe possible, but it still hadn't felt quite real.

The pain, however, made it so, and for the first time in a while, Minerva felt the same fear creeping in she had experienced when she first learned of her pregnancy.

"The headmaster is coming," Rosalina announced breathlessly as she returned, having seemingly run through the corridors of the castle. "How are you?"

"I'm scared," Minerva admitted.

Rosalina offered her a comforting smile as she took a seat next to the bed and held her hand.

"You will be fine, Minerva," she said reassuringly.

Minerva found it difficult to believe her words, not when everything was happening.

The baby was coming, and she didn't feel ready.

In truth, she never knew if she would, but she would need to be, nonetheless.

"Oh, good lord!" the voice of Armando interrupted her thoughts, his face flushing at her state of undress.

"GET OUT!" Rosalina yelled.

Armando sputtered as he withdrew behind the curtain that had been drawn, though Minerva didn't remember it being done.

"I just wanted to see how you were," the headmaster said apologetically. "Albus is here."

"And he can stay away too," Rosalina replied. "If you want to make yourselves useful, find a way to get Evans here."

"And my mother," Minerva added.

The two men scrambled from the room and Rosalina chuckled.

"They wouldn't make it any easier," she sighed.

Minerva offered her a grateful smile.

"I will be okay, won't I?" she asked.

"Of course you will," Rosalina snorted. "It's me I'm worried about."

"Why you?"

"Because now I have to stay for the duration."

Minerva shook her head.

"You don't, I…"

Rosalina cut her off with a sharp look.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly. "Not until I know that you and the baby are safe. Even if Evans makes it, he will have to put up with me."

Minerva smiled at the sentiment.

As rare as such a thing was from Rosalina Nott, it meant so much to her knowing the woman wouldn't leave her alone.

(Break)

The men were celebrating, Charlus's engagement to Dorea Black being announced in The Daily Prophet the articlehaving inspired the festivities. Harry had been as surprised as the others, but the additional time Arcturus and Charlus had spent together now made more sense.

Harry had simply been too busy to take much interest in it, though he could kick himself for not doing so.

"You two are going to be brothers?" Yaxley questioned, his gaze shifting between Charlus and Arcturus. "A Black and a Potter. Bloody hell, I wouldn't want to be there for that Christmas dinner."

The others laughed and the two prominent lords could only shrug in response.

"What's the big deal?" Gilbert asked.

Not being a pureblood or having learned much of the customs, he didn't understand the implications of the match.

"Both families are well respected," Yaxley explained, "but for vastly different reasons. The Blacks are known for their ruthlessness, political acumen, and penchant for delving into some dark shit. You don't fuck with the Blacks if you want to live a long, healthy life."

"Succinctly put, Reg," Charlus huffed.

Yaxley smiled, and continued, undeterred by the glares being sent his way.

"Now, the Potters are similar in many ways; ruthless, politically astute, but they traditionally stand on the opposite side of the spectrum to the Blacks. Oh, you wouldn't mess with a Potter either if you know what is good for you. What I know of their history, I know I wouldn't."

"And what do you know of my family history, Reg?" Charlus questioned curiously.

"That you have always bred fighting men, and that your family magic is a sight to behold. We've seen that for ourselves," he added.

The others seated around him nodded.

"Is that all?" Charlus pressed.

"That's about it," Reg agreed. "It's not much is it?"

Charlus smirked as he shook his head.

"You know nothing, Yaxley," Charlus snorted. "My family history is much darker than you would expect. You only need to go back a few hundred years to know that my line was not always seen as a paragon of virtue. If you go back even further, it's much worse."

Reg looked on interestedly, gesturing for Charlus to continue and groaned when it was clear he wouldn't.

"My marriage to Dorea has no political ramifications for either of us, something we were both adamant about before we signed the contract," he explained.

Arcturus nodded his agreement.

"As a family, I gain nothing from this, and neither do the Potters," he added. "It is a match based on mutual care and love for one another."

The others fell silent at his declaration until Yaxley snickered.

"I never took you for a sentimental man."

"I'm not," Arcturus denied, "but I care for my sister more than any other, and if you ever mock me again, Yaxley, I'll kick your balls into your throat."

Reg paled as his eyes widened.

"I-I."

"Shut up, Reg," Arcturus chuckled.

Yaxley deflated as he realised Arcturus had been jesting, but he still released a deep breath and shot Gilbert a look of relief.

"What is that?" he asked as a beam of light shot towards them.

Before any could react, it came to a stop in front of Harry who frowned as it coalesced into a patronus, the form it took leaving no mistake as to who sent it.

"Is that a phoenix?" Gilbert asked. "Why isn't it saying anything?"

"Because he doesn't know how," Harry muttered.

"Who does it belong to?" Arcturus questioned.

"Dumbledore," Harry murmured thoughtfully.

Why would Dumbledore send a patronus to him?

His eyes widened in realisation.

"Minerva!"

"She must be having the baby," Charlus pointed out.

"No, it's too soon for that," Harry denied, not knowing what to do.

"Only a couple of weeks early," Charlus huffed. "If Albus sent that, she must be at Hogwarts. Come on, get yourself moving!"

"Bloody hell, what do I do?" Harry asked desperately.

"You get the fuck to Hogwarts, Evans, before I bloody curse you," Arcturus growled as he stood and drew his wand.

"But…"

"We will look after everything here," Charlus assured him. "Go on, take as long as you need. I'll inform Petr."

"Get going, Evans!" Arcturus snapped.

Having finally composed himself somewhat, Harry nodded before activating his portkey and leaving Romania behind, more fearful now than he had ever felt throughout any battle he had fought in.

"So, we just wait?" Yaxley asked.

"What bloody else is there to do?" Arcturus grumbled as he paced back and forth.

"Why are you worried?" Charlus questioned the man.

"I'm not!" Arcturus denied, taking his seat once more, though the tapping of his foot only made Charlus smirk.

"Alright, I don't want anything to happen to the little shit, happy?" Arcturus growled. "I like Evans and McGonagall, is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I didn't want to hear anything," Charlus replied with a grin.

Arcturus's nostrils flared.

"If you weren't marrying my sister…"

Instead of finishing his sentence, he simply threw his hands up in the air and shook his head.

"Fucking Potter," he grumbled.

(Break)

Minerva didn't know how long she had laid here, how many times in the past hours that Madame Morgana had examined her. She had been given a calming draught and a concoction of other potions, but none of them stopped the pain she felt.

Inexplicably, it came on even more frequently, tearing through her body every few minutes or so.

Her mother had arrived some time ago, her father unable to do so with Hogwarts being hidden from muggles.

Not even the headmaster had the power to change that.

"You're doing so well," Rosalina said encouragingly, dabbing Minerva's brow with a damp, cool cloth.

Her mother was pacing frantically, pale but doing her utmost to remain composed.

"Where is he?" Minerva asked.

Rosalina could only shake her head.

Albus had left hours ago to do what he could to reach Harry. How he would do so when he was stuck in the middle of a warzone, Rosalina knew not, but if anyone could do it, it was Albus.

"He sent a patronus," Armando explained from the other side of the curtain.

"Would that even reach him from so far away?" Rosalina questioned.

"I don't know," Armando sighed, "but Albus has gone to wait for him at the gates and he has informed Nicholas. Perhaps he can be reached by the Flamels."

Minerva released a deep breath as a longer, more intense pain took hold of her.

"We can't wait for him any longer," Madame Morgana declared. "The baby is coming now."

Minerva gasped and gritted her teeth as the pain remained, pulsating through every fibre of her being.

She didn't want to give birth without Harry being here.

"You're almost there," Rosalina spoke softly.

Minerva squeezed her hand tightly, hoping that it would somehow offer her some comfort or at least alleviate the agony she was experiencing.

"I can see the head," Madame Morgana announced. "When I tell you to, you need to push."

Minerva nodded, her breathing laboured and coming in short bursts as she readied herself to do so.

"Push!"

Minerva did as she was told until she no longer could, groaning as she sucked in mouthfuls of air.

"One more should do it," Madame Morgana encouraged. "Push!"

Minerva was exhausted, still, she fought on, her vision swimming until the room spun, but the sound of crying cut into the turmoil.

Her body ached and she closed her eyes, continuing to breathe heavily whilst Madame Morgana checked the baby over.

"Is everything okay?" Minerva asked worriedly.

She opened her eyes to the sight of the healer approaching her with a bundle of white blankets.

"Everything is fine," Madame Morgana replied with a beaming smile, placing the swathe of blankets into her arms. "You have a healthy little girl."

Minerva swallowed deeply as she peered at the babe, her little red face poking out of the top of the swaddling, a beautiful pair of eyes staring back at her.

She couldn't stop looking, not even paying attention to Madame Morgana cleaning her up, nor what anyone else was doing.

It was several minutes after the baby had fallen asleep that she looked up to see her mother, Rosalina, and Armando looking at her expectantly, but Minerva couldn't ignore the absence of the one person she wished was here sharing this moment with her.

"He didn't make it, did he?"

Her mother shook her head sadly, and Minerva turned her attention back to her daughter as she wiped her tears away.

She wasn't angry, nor was she upset with Harry.

Minerva was devastated for him.

No matter what platitudes were given to him, Harry would never forgive himself for missing the birth.

(Break)

The map that hung on the wall in his study looked so very different than it had only six months before and Gellert could not rid himself of the feeling of trepidation that had gripped him.

The ICW forces were advancing, and everything his own men had done to prevent it had not been enough.

It was frustrating to say the least but worrying more so.

If they continued at the rate they were, which was unlikely with the introduction of Gellert's reinforcements, it would only take them a little over a year, perhaps two, before most of the continent was back under their control.

Gellert could not allow that.

Evans and his men had to be stopped, or their progress slowed to a crawl whilst Gellert established his control and continued to spread his influence.

"It paints quite the grim picture, does it not?" he questioned Cassiopeia.

"A minor setback," she replied dismissively.

Gellert snorted as he nodded his agreement.

"Indeed," he agreed, only to frown as the door to his study was thrown open and Selwyn entered.

Gellert scowled at the man.

He had not requested Selwyn's presence.

"I have quite the news to share," the man declared smugly as he handed Gellert a copy of The Daily Prophet, the section he wished to bring his attention to circled in red ink.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," Gellert declared as he handed the paper to Cassiopeia.

The woman frowned, her mouth falling agape as she read.

"Dorea is marrying Potter?" she whispered. "No, that can't be right."

"It isn't," Selwyn replied smugly. "Your brother thinks he may have secured a contract, but little does he know…"

He trailed off as he removed a thick roll of parchment from within his robes and handed it to her.

Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes.

"You brokered a contract with my father?" she hissed. "He was unwell when he signed this."

"But he signed it," Selwyn pointed out, "and it takes precedence over the one your brother signed with Potter."

Cassiopeia's nostrils flared.

"It says a daughter of house Black. It doesn't name my sister specifically."

"Well, you could always marry one of my sons," Selwyn offered, "then that way, I need not intrude upon your sister's happiness."

Gellert released a deep sigh knowing that an explosion of anger was impending.

As expected, Cassiopeia drew her wand and banished the unsuspecting lord across the room.

He hit the wall with a dull thud and laid upon the floor in a crumpled heap.

Before he could catch his bearings, Cassiopeia was on him, and seizing a handful of his hair, she jabbed her wand into his neck.

"I would cut off your son's balls and ram them down his throat," she growled. "If I were you, Selwyn, I would forget about this contract. My sister will not be lumbered with the likes of you and yours. That will happen over my dead body."

Selwyn grimaced, coughing from having the wind knocked out of him.

"It's too late," he wheezed, "I already activated it."

"You did what?" Cassiopeia spat.

Selwyn cowered before the woman, and Gellert was not inclined to intervene on his behalf.

The man had acted foolishly.

"I-I activated it today with my lawyer. Your brother will receive the notification of it shortly."

Cassiopeia shook her head as she took her seat once more and began perusing the rest of the document.

"What did you hope to achieve from this, Selwyn?" Gellert asked. "You have made an enemy of Lord Potter and Lord Black. Do you think either will take kindly to this?"

Selwyn merely frowned in response as he stood.

"I thought that anything that would inconvenience them would be of benefit to us," he grumbled.

Gellert shook his head irritably.

Was this man truly so dense?

"Have you read this in its entirety?" Cassiopeia questioned, her expression no longer one of anger but of a barely concealed amusement. "Have you read the terms?"

Selwyn's frown deepened.

"I helped write the terms."

"And you still signed and activated it?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Cassiopeia cackled as she stood and pointed to a section of text, the writing so small that it was barely legible and would be easily missed.

"Should either Lord find disagreement in the activation of this contract, the option to buy out of it remains available for the period of 28 days. If, however, said Lord chooses to, they may opt for a second option of a duel to settle the matter either representing themselves, or finding a suitable champion to do so within the same period of time," Gellert read.

Having done so, he couldn't help but deduce that Selwyn was indeed a rather stupid man.

"It seems that my father was not as addled as you had hoped," Cassiopeia said smugly.

"That just means your brother will have to pay through the nose for your sister's freedom."

Cassiopeia laughed humourlessly.

"If you think Arcturus will do that, then you do not know my brother. He will gladly choose the second option, but the question remains, will it be him or Potter that you will have to face?"

Selwyn had paled at the implication, his gaze seeking out Gellert desperately.

"I think not," Gellert denied immediately.

He had much more important things to focus on other than remedying the man's foolishness.

Selwyn's gaze shifted to Cassiopeia and the woman smirked.

"Even if I wished to, which I don't, I am unable to intervene," she said gleefully. "I am a Black."

"What do I do?" Selwyn scoffed.

"You really should have considered that before acting," Gellert sighed, a smirk tugging at his own lips.

Whatever happened to Selwyn from here was of his own doing.

He had tried to coerce what he believed to be a weak and vulnerable man into an unfavourable agreement, only for the perished lord to have the last laugh from beyond the grave.

"But…"

"I think it is best you left, Lord Selwyn," Gellert urged. "I believe you will soon have a duel to prepare for."

Selwyn opened and closed his mouth a few times before he did so, realising that he would get no help here.

"The man is a buffoon," Gellert declared.

"He is," Cassiopeia agreed quietly, "but he is not completely stupid. He will find someone to represent him. Going against my brother or Potter would be no better than suicide for Selwyn."

Gellert nodded.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Cassiopeia shrugged.

"My little sister. It's strange to think of her marrying, especially Potter. There has never been a marriage between our families."

"But what better way to solidify a budding relationship," Gellert pointed out. "Your brother and the Lord Potter have grown close."

Cassiopeia shook her head.

"No, it wouldn't be a political alliance," she said thoughtfully. "No matter how close they may have grown, the family politics would never align. It must be a match for other reasons."

"Love?"

Cassiopeia frowned but nodded.

"I can't imagine any other reason," she sighed. "Arcturus cares for Dorea more than any other. He wouldn't match her with someone unless she wished for it."

Gellert chuckled.

"Such foolish sentimentality."

"It is," Cassiopeia agreed with a sad smile. "If you will excuse me."

Gellert gestured for her to leave.

He had no doubt Cassiopeia was loyal to him, but her feelings towards her family were undoubtedly a barrier for her to overcome.

She cared for them despite the fact that they were enemies, and sooner or later, something would have to give, and it wouldn't be her dedication to him that would waver.

Of that, Gellert was certain.

(Break)

"She is in the hospital wing."

That was all Harry had needed to hear from Albus before he took off in a sprint towards the castle and through the corridors, leaving the man in his wake until he arrived in the hospital wing, stopping only when he rounded the curtained off area.

Breathing heavily, he was greeted by the sight of a tired Minerva holding a bundle of blankets close to her chest, her hair in disarray and eyes full of tears.

He was too late.

Harry was angry with himself, with the war, and everything in that moment, though Minerva gave him an understanding smile.

"Would you like to meet your daughter?" she asked.

"My daughter?" he choked.

Minerva's smile widened as she nodded.

Harry swallowed deeply, his anger dissipating immediately as he stepped forward, his arms trembling as he took the babe in his arms.

"We will give you some time," Armando declared.

The words barely registered with Harry, his focus solely on the little girl he held so carefully, his eyes meeting hers.

Both he and Minerva had green eyes, but the baby had his brighter shade that stood stark against her pale skin.

They searched his face almost questioningly before she yawned and fell asleep only a moment later.

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured.

Minerva sighed as she shook her head.

"We both knew this could happen," she pointed out. "You have nothing to apologise for."

"I should have been here."

"You're here now, and there wouldn't have been much you could do even if you were," Minerva snorted. "I think I traumatised Rosalina. She was with me for the whole thing."

"I bet you're her favourite person now," Harry chuckled.

"She was amazing," Minerva said sincerely. "Even when my mother arrived, she stayed with me."

Harry wouldn't have expected anything less from his mentor.

Despite her disdain at the thought of becoming a mother herself, she would not have left Minerva.

He grinned at the thought of how far out of her comfort zone the woman would have been.

"That'll teach her for the hours of torture she put me through," he muttered.

"I heard that, Evans!" Rosalina snapped.

Harry chuckled.

"I suppose they will all want to meet her," he sighed.

"We would, Harry, very much so," Dumbledore said eagerly.

Harry shook his head amusedly.

"Come on then."

Dumbledore was the first to round the curtain, followed by Isobel, Armando, and then Rosalina who shot him a glare.

Harry merely smirked as he looked at his daughter once more, his eyes widening as he did so.

"What is it?" Minerva asked.

As with the shared colour of their eyes, both he and Minerva had dark, almost black hair, but the babe he held in his arms did not share that with her parents.

"She has red hair," he pointed out, indicating the small tuft that was protruding from the blanket. "My mother had red hair," he added with a whisper.

"We have redheads in our family too," Isobel explained, holding her arms out expectantly.

Harry handed the baby over and took a seat next to Minerva, overwhelmed by the many emotions he was feeling.

"She is beautiful," Isobel murmured proudly. "She is going to be a stunner."

"May I?" Dumbledore asked impatiently, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly.

Isobel rolled her eyes at the man but handed him the bundle of blankets.

His eyes began twinkling merrily as he simply stared at the baby just as proudly as Isobel had.

"Oh, she is precious," he said to himself.

He said nothing else for several minutes as he simply rocked the baby in his arms.

"Alright, Albus, don't hog her," Armando huffed eventually, having waited long enough for his turn.

It was amusing to watch so many fawning over the baby, each wanting to have a moment with her.

The only one that did not appear to be so keen was Rosalina who was content with hanging back and watching from afar.

"Your turn," Armando declared to the woman who shook her head, her eyes widening fearfully.

"No," she denied. "I've never held a baby."

"Then there is no better time to learn," Armando chuckled. "Rest her head here and support the rest of her body with your other arm."

Rosalina stiffened as she held the babe, not knowing what to do now that it had been handed to her.

"Have you thought of any names?" Albus questioned.

Minerva shook her head.

"We haven't settled on one…"

"Rosa," Harry offered. "My mother's family had a tradition of naming their girls after flowers, and this way, we get to give her a name of another person that will be a big part of her life," he added, nodding towards Rosalina.

Without her, Harry would not be who he was today, and she had been here for Minerva when he couldn't be.

If there was anyone who deserved for the baby to be their namesake, it was his mentor, and the woman that now held his daughter in her arms.

"I like it," Minerva said with a bright smile. "Rosa Isobel Evans."

Harry nodded his agreement, his gaze shifting to Rosalina who could not hold back a sob as she stared down at the baby that had been named for her.

"I'll bloody kill you, Evans," she choked as tears spilled from her eyes. "Someone take her."

Isobel did so and handed the baby back to Minerva whilst Rosalina attempted to compose herself, failing miserably as she continued to cry, though she was smiling through her tears.

Harry only had eyes for Minerva and their daughter, his heart full of an unparalleled love for them both, the two most precious things he had in his life that now only felt more complete.

He was proud of Minerva, for how she had coped with him being away as much as he had, for how strong she had been. He couldn't imagine his life without her, and now, he had another to add to that most exclusive list.