Chapter 12:

Everything suddenly made so much sense!

Kingsley's insistence on speaking about their witchcraft only to the Starks.

There needing to be a Stark at the Wall and at Winterfell.

Their easy acceptance of magic, despite their initial weariness.

How the fuck did I not see this earlier?

The Starks had magic in their blood!

It had thinned out over the years. What with the eligible witches being burned at stake and then they having to marry muggles, but they still had the magic in them. A quick spell had shown that.

Arya's was strongest, that's why the manifestation. Eddard Stark's was dormant, he was only a carrier of the gene. Robb's weak but he could still manage feats like warging, especially with his direwolf, something he admitted with a lot of blushing and fumbling. Jon's was restrained, as if he was willingly keeping it away, as if it was all awaiting a push or a trigger. It was a new aspect for Hermione and she knew she had to study about it more to understand it.

She was to test the other three Stark children under the cover of the night, after they slept.

But the diagnosis she did do, had assured them all of one thing.

Starks were meant to have magic in their veins.

That's how they could protect their realm.

Kingsley Shacklebolt's words came back to her. "Keep a Stark at Winterfell… Embed yourself in their society… Do whatever it takes…"

Did he mean what she was thinking? Was that the reason why he had quickly relented to Ginny's request of sending the two of them here? While she trusted Kingsley, all said and done, he was a politician to boot. He had to be ruthless, first as the Head Auror and now as the Minister of Magic in a world that was deep in chaos. He was capable of it all. The underhandedness, the cryptic instructions..

"But did he really mean it?" Hermione whispered to herself, walking absentmindedly between two trees while tugging at the gold chain she wore around her neck. It had an ovular pendant that opened to the smiling faces of her parents. But for once she was not looking at the pendant wistfully, she was only toying with the chain while twisting her pout one way and another.

"Who meant what?" Ginny asked stepping in behind her. She had spoken to Arya at length about magic and how she could control it, giving her a few insights into Hermione's and her own lives as witches. And after a long time, she had finally fallen asleep.

While both Ginny and Hermione would have preferred to speak to Arya together, Hermione's insights as a muggle-born, even if they were from a different era, were probably more helpful for the girl, but they divided up. And since Hermione was much better than her in diagnostic spells, Ginny had walked out with Arya while Hermione had checked on the men.

Hermione quickly brought Ginny up to speed with all her findings and her suspicions and they both sat down on the ground wondering of the way ahead.

They wouldn't be leaving Arya behind, not now, not like this. Yet, they couldn't very well take a minor away from her parents.

"We're stuck here," Hermione spoke their thoughts aloud.

"And we need to introduce magic into the Stark bloodline. We might be here now, but for the future.." Ginny let her statement hang in the air around them.

"We're so screwed, Ginny."

"So.. so.. screwed, Mione."

The afternoon had been eventful for Jon. Well, he wasn't Jon, though, was he?

After Ginerva had announced that Arya had a situation, a number of thoughts had run through his mind, none of them good. He'd always been most protective of Arya anyway.

Then Hermione had confirmed the one thing he had never considered. His sister was a witch! Well, cousin actually.

Then, Hermione had left the men, telling them of their own magical ancestry and then she'd given not his father a stern look and left the room.

For the first time ever, Jon had seen Lord Eddard Stark's shoulders slump. He had sent Robb to find his mother and asked him to get her back immediately to the library. Then during Robb's absence he had finally come clean about Jon's birth.

He wasn't a bastard.

He was neither Jon, nor Snow.

He was a Targaryen. His name was Aegon.

And to top it all up, he was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.

He was brought up as a bastard only for his safety, because his adoptive father had promised his sister on her death bed that he would bring him up as his own and keep him safe from Robert Baratheon and the likes.

Young Ned Stark hadn't known what to do and when he'd walked in the halls of his family home with a tiny buddle in his arms, his new wife had assumed the worst and Jon's life had been branded since.

He'd hurt for so long because of this.

But now that he knew, what was he to do?

To be honest, the knowledge of his parentage, had only brought in acceptance of his name.

He was Jon Snow.

Son of Ned Stark of Winterfell. Brother of Robb, Arya, Bran, Rickon and even Sansa.

Those facts were not about to change.

He finally understood what Hermione and then Ginny had been telling him.

Names meant nothing.

It was what he was on the inside, the true person, that was what mattered.

"A rose called by any other name would still smell just as sweet.." he remembered Hermione quoting an author from her era.

And he didn't even want to think of facing her fierce friend again.

But he knew he had to.

He had a lot of apologies to make to that feisty witch.

His feisty witch. He smiled.

He'd make her his, he promised himself.

He had stayed away, thinking he had nothing to offer to the striking beauty.. not even a name. But now, things had changed. He had a name to give her. Hells, he had a throne to give if she so wanted it! He'd fight unto death for her, he knew that now, just as he'd known that earlier too.

What changed was that now he was at liberty to tell it to her.

But where was she? Somehow he just knew this was going to be a common practice between them. He'd be bursting with news to share and she'd be busy elsewhere breaking hearts with his sister in tow. He chuckled at the image.

Jon combed through most of Winterfell at a frantic pace and found her crouching on the hearth beside her friend, both of them lost in some gloomy thoughts, he could tell by the resignation he saw in their features.

"My ladies," he cleared his thought.

Hermione took one look at Jon and knew Lord Stark had finally come through for his nephew. She flashed him a radiant smile, looked at the frozen form of her friend beside her, then excused herself. Taking Jon by surprise when she engulfed him in a warm hug and then threw him a naughty wink.

"Good luck, Jon. You're really going to need it," she whispered beside his shoulder as she made her way back to the castle, leaving the two behind her.

"Go away, I don't want to speak to you."

"You don't have to. Just listen to me.."

"GO… AWAY!"

"No! I won't. You can bat boogie me if it'll make you feel better but neither of us is leaving before I'm done talking."

Ginny raised her brow, regarding Jon speculatively. It must be important, she reasoned. No one had ever voluntarily taken her hexing before. "Why?"

"Because.. I acted as a scared boy, who had nothing to offer but everything to lose. But now, I do have a name to give you. If only you'll take it."

Ginny looked up at that in shock and Jon knelt beside the woman who had his heart since the day he had stumbled upon her in Wolfswood. He had tried to keep his distance since, but she'd wormed her way into his cold heart, warming him up from the inside. Seeing her playing mischief with his sister, learning arms in the darkness, making jests with the only family he'd ever known, something bitter inside him had melted away, leaving a shining beacon in its wake.

He's pushed her away once. Hurt her badly. But he would never do it again, if only she'd give him another chance.

He kept his stance, staying at a decent distance away from her should they have any onlookers, and then narrated everything of his talk with his uncle about his parentage to her.

Quite unladylike, Ginny whistled. "And I thought my afternoon was busy."

Jon's lips twitched. "So, what do you say, my witch? Will you be my queen?"

Ginny smirked. "How do you wish it!"

"What do you mean?" Jon asked, bracing himself for the rejection he thought was coming his way.

"I mean, no, Jon, I will not be your queen. Absolutely not. I don't need a crown and if you ever do, I'll transfigure one for you," she joked cheekily. "I've never wanted you as anyone else Jon. Not that Aegon Tiger.. whatever. I've only wanted you – Jon Snow, the broody, angsty, young man whose eyes twinkle when he looks at his sister playing pranks, who can't hold himself back when someone needs him – even if it is women practicing forbidden weaponry in the dark. I've loved that man, Jon, uncaring of his name."

Jon opened his mouth to speak, but Ginny shushed him with a finger on his lips. "But, if your last name bothers you so much, we can always change it to Weasley. You'll be one soon enough anyway," she winked at him.

"You'll marry me, then?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Only if you promise me we'll have lots of Jons and Ginnys running about in our house."

Jon couldn't hold himself back. He threw his head back and laughed. "I'll give you as many little Jons and Ginnys as you want, but they won't be Snows, that I promise," he said and looked heatedly at the witch who was glowing with happiness, looking radiant as she was sat there in front of him.

"Are you waiting for an invite to kiss me?" Ginny finally snapped when she realized Jon wasn't making any move towards her, just staring at her lips instead.

"I don't think I can stop at one kiss right this moment, and I won't dishonor you or hurt your virtue by being with you before our wedding night."

Ginny's face pinched over. "Jon," she laid her small, fair hand on his black boiled leather tunic, pushing him back a little so she could look him in his eyes, "If you are expecting a virgin bride, you've got the wrong girl. I've been with boys before."

This time Jon's face pinched. "You have?"

Ginny nodded. "I've dated four and slept with two. You won't be my first."

Jon considered her words and then looked at her again. "Well, as long as I'm your last…"

Ginny flashed him a bright smile. "That can be arranged," and she pounced on him.

Jon fell off his crouch, with his back pasted to the ground, cradling Ginny over him. "Witch! We're out in the open, maintain some decorum. I want to make an honest woman of you, not a whore!"

Ginny chuckled. "Oh, Jon, there's so much you need to learn. Hold on tight and don't let go, okay?"

"Never," he promised, looking into her big brown eyes that were brimming with love for him.

Ginny pulled out her wand and with a crack they were both gone. Disappeared into thin air.

Thankfully for them, no one saw the sorcery happening in a corner of the open grounds. The privacy charm Hermione had thrown over her shoulders when she left the clearing had shielded the two new lovers from prying eyes.