Hermione stared at Albus' sleeping form from the doorway of the room he shared with his brother. Curled into the fetal position with his hands resting under his cheek, he looked even smaller than usual. His black hair fell over his face and a slight smile graced his lips while he dreamed. His brother lay in his own bed, sprawled over it with his hand hanging off the side, light snores leaving his open mouth. Hermione felt her heart tug at the sight they made. Her Godchildren.

"They've both had a spot of Dreamless Sleep Draught. Just enough to ensure neither of them will wake tonight." Harry whispered from behind her, leaning against the opposite side of the doorway. Hermione glanced at him and frowned at his disheveled state. His hair was messier than usual, and his clothes were wrinkled. Behind his glasses were dark circles and his face was drawn down in a concerned frown.

Reaching out, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "You don't have to do this Harry. I can find another way, if it would make things easier on you." She told him, searching his eyes for signs of doubt or hesitance. Neither would be productive for the Ritual to come, and she would not put her Godson at risk.

Harry met her gaze firmly, clenching his jaw and standing taller, "No. This I can do. For him. For all of us."

Hermione nodded and turned back to the sleeping children, crossing the room she covered James with the blanket he had kicked to the foot of the bed in his sleep, before kissing him lightly on the forehead. When he awoke, his brother would be a true Potter and the thought of Jonathon Grant would be nothing but an unpleasant memory.

Across the room, Harry was gently lifting Albus into his arms, cradling him to his chest and whispering quietly to him. Hermione waited patiently, before leading Harry and the sleeping Albus to the ritual circle in the gardens. Her Sentries were still searching for the possible location of the Moirai, after being warned away. As much as they liked to be near her, she knew that this was one event that they could not be a part of.

Approaching the prepared circle, she walked to the small table and lit the sage and lavender smudge stick, before wafting the gently billowing smoke over Harry and Albus. Once she was certain that both had been properly cleansed, she used her magic to light the candles surrounding the circle. Nodding to Harry, she stepped forward, "Harry James Potter, on this night you seek to call forth your Ancestors to ask them to bring this child into the bloodline. Be warned that if your intentions and words are anything but true once you enter, your Ancestors may call upon your blood in penance."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, "I understand." Clutching Albus tighter to him he kissed the top of his son's head. He would not mess this up. His boys were too important to him to do so.

"Then you may enter, may the Gods and Goddesses give you their blessings," Hermione spoke, moving to allow Harry to pass. She watched wearily as Harry stepped into the circle, moving slowly to the middle while he held onto Albus. Once he reached the center he began to chant, and as he chanted apparitions began to manifest.

The first could only be his father, James, with equally messy hair and square framed glasses. Next came his father, Fleamont, then Charlus, as well as a few other members of Herry's paternal line. Hermione couldn't name all of them but by the end, there were at least a dozen men surrounding Harry and Albus. Were it not for the fact that these men were Harry's family, she would have been concerned. She watched unable to hear anything as each man touched Harry's arm and then caressed Albus' hair, leaning down to speak softly in his ear. A soft glow had begun to surround them, getting brighter as each man approached. When James approached his son, Hermione could see the tears streaming down Harry's face before the light enveloping them became too blinding.

Shielding her eyes she was unable to see exactly what happened, but when Harry approached her with a smile on his face, she knew the ritual had been successful. Smiling down at Albus she placed her hand on his seemingly messier locks, "Hello again, Albus Potter."

The walk back to the manor was made in silence, Harry staring at Albus' sleeping face and Hermione being lost in her thoughts. She followed quietly behind Harry as he took Albus back to his room and waited for him to put the boy back to bed, before motioning for him to follow her to her study. Harry obliged and now they sat together in the dark room, the last embers in the fireplace the only light.

"I was skeptical at first." He told her watching the way the low embers would occasionally send off sparks. Hermione raised her eyebrow and poured them both a glass of firewhiskey, "Oh?"

Harry took the glass gratefully, drinking deeply before continuing, "Not in the ritual or well, you, but that my anger at Ginny would ruin everything."

Hermione nodded, "Understandable. But you did it. Albus is now your son by every right, and no one will ever be able to take him from you."

"From us." Harry corrected, staring into his glass. Hermione waited a moment to allow him to gather his thoughts properly. Thankfully she didn't have to wait long.

"You know, I've always wanted a family. A true family. I thought I had that with Ginny, but it was all a lie. Maybe not all of it, but enough so that the rest hardly counts. I never realized I had a family all along. At least I had a sister," He turned to face her with a smile, "After all of this, I find myself wishing that we had been able to have more time. I wish that we were truly family much the way Albus is now my son. I know it might not be possible, at least not directly for us, but there's still the future."

Hermione reached across the small space to grasp Harry's hand in her own, "What are you suggesting?" unwilling to mince words in such a serious issue.

Harry took a deep breath, "A Betrothal Contract. Between my sons and your daughters. Don't give me that look, I've heard your Sentries whispering about who would get to have the honor of producing the first heir to the throne. It makes sense to have them already spoken for, even more so by someone who you know would ensure their best interests."

Hermione sat back in her chair thinking over his words carefully. "I can't promise that I will have daughters. They could all be boys. And what if I only have one daughter? Which of your sons will be the one she's betrothed to?"

Harry took another swallow of his firewhiskey, "Well if you only have one daughter then it should be simple. If she is born the first of your children, she'll marry James and if she's born last she'll marry Albus. If you have sons, then I had best have daughters."

Hermione laughed and raised her glass in a toast, "I suppose that settles it then!"

Hermione was once again in her study, leaned over a heavy tome with her riotous curls falling into her face. With Albus officially a Potter she was able to focus her attention back to trying to discover where the Moirai might be. She was disrupted from her thoughts by a soft knock at her study door, calling out an "Enter" without looking up, she was unsurprised by the smell of food accompanying her visitor. It seemed as if everyone was encouraging her to eat these days, and no one would believe she wasn't hungry.

"My Queen, I've brought you lunch," Marcus spoke from the doorway.

Hermione sighed and leaned back in her chair pressing her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose, trying and failing to hide her annoyance. She knew she shouldn't be angry with him, after all, he, as well as the others, were simply looking out for her, but she found it difficult not to be when everyone around her was treating her like a child. Waving her other hand to indicate he should place the tray on the nearby table.

"Is something wrong my Queen?" Marcus questioned, placing the tray down and moving closer to her. He and the others had noticed Hermione's tense mood, and he had drawn the short straw to approach her to discover what could be troubling her.

Hermione glared at Marcus from across the desk, "Of course there's something wrong. I have less than a year to discover where the Moirai are, attack them and bring them to heel or else I could lose everything. On top of Molly Weasley being an idiot and trying to take my Godson away from his father. Not to mention planning to overthrow a country and in state myself as it's Queen. And in the past month, I have gotten nowhere!" She snapped closing her eyes in irritation. The dull throbbing at the base of her skull signaled an oncoming headache and she felt her ire grow more.

Marcus eyed Hermione from across the desk and decided to take a chance to approach her, a dangerous thing to do when she was in this state. Placing himself beside her he crouched at her side, grasping one of her hands gently in his much larger ones.

"I know things seem to be moving slowly, my Queen, but we are making progress. You will have everything you desire and more. The Moirai will be found and they will obey you. We are looking at every possible lead thoroughly, and when we find them you will have us at your sides and back to help you in any way we can, but you have to trust us as we trust you."

Hermione glanced down at Marcus and felt guilty for snapping at him. He was correct that they had been making progress, albeit very slow progress. All of her Sentries were trying to take care of her, but Marcus was the only one not afraid of her ire. He seemed to like looking it in the face and staring down the flames that would ignite along her skin. He would have made a hell of a Gryfinndor were it not for his cunning and ambitious streaks. She sometimes wondered how he could be so calm when facing her, but anytime she would ask he would divert the conversation to another topic or distract her with sex.

"You're right Marcus. I don't mean to be so angry, but it is overwhelming sometimes." She told him honestly. She knew she didn't have to fear to be weak around Marcus because he would never see it as weakness.

"Well then, how about I overwhelm you in a different way?" He told her, pushing her chair away from the desk and lifting her up. He moved the heavy tome back with one hand while supporting her with the other. Turning he placed her on the desk and proceeded to make her forget all of her troubles for a little while, no doubt making her screams echo throughout the wing of the manor they were currently in.

A/N: So, I'm back! thanks so much for all the kind reviews and an even greater thanks to my wonderful Beta Vino Amore! I appreciate you so much doll! I'm still fighting off a weird funk that's been making it hard to write as well as my laptop being down. But hopefully everything's fixed now. Fingers crossed. Sorry, this chapter is relatively short, but I'm trying to get back in the swing of things. I should have the next chapter up soon. Til next time, Lilbit903.