The Grind (And Helping Heather Potter) [Book 2]

Susan sighed contentedly, "Ah, now this is the life."

"A proper cuppa in this world," Hannah mused with humorous awe. "Who would have thought?"

"This might just be my favorite place after Hogwarts," Neville chuckled.

The three of them sat in a cozy, booth-seated nook within one of the closest places to modern civilization that they'd come across. It was kind of amazing, Susan mused, that something so simple could invoke a sense of home. The locale was nothing more than a simple cafe. Notably, not a tavern though. Its walls were wood and stone and plaster. A light, foggy rain drizzled on the striped awnings outside the windows. Tables, chairs, and booths were scattered around the cafe with plenty of space between them for privacy. The staff brewed tea or mixed juice, honeyed water, and even more exotic offerings, serving them throughout the cafe without the customers having to stand at all.

Herbal scents filled the air. Soft music was played by a bard with a harp, giving the building and all who sat within its walls an undeniable sense of peace and comfort. A delicate mural was painted across the back wall of the cafe, depicting a misty city of a hundred islands as seen from the eyes of a colossal Titan. It was a beautiful place. One that would have been unique but not completely out of place in modern London.

But then, they'd found that a surprisingly common sight in the city they found themselves in. After fleeing the North and Westeros, Neville, Susan, and Hannah made their way across the Narrow Sea to Essos. Braavos was the city that called to them first.

The youngest, richest, and most powerful of the Free Cities actually lived up to its name. Unlike its 'sister cities', it practiced freedom. It was founded by escaped slaves and had risen to prominence despite not bowing to the sick practice that infested the rest of the Eastern continent. It was built on freedom, hope, and rebellion. They hid themselves away from their Valyrian masters and made something for themselves that could never be taken away from them.

In doing so, they just so happened to create the best place this world had to offer. After Hogwarts, of course. But Susan hardly thought that was a fair comparison. Nothing lived up to Hogwarts, not in their old world and especially not in this new one.

The very first law of Braavos banned slavery, thralldom, and indentured bondage. They were the only 'Free' City to do anything even remotely like that. They were the only 'Free' City to be truly free. They hadn't bowed to the ancient Valyrians and their Dragons. Nor to their city-state peers, despite being greatly outnumbered. No, they held true to their principles and prospered until their city was at the very top of the world.

They even practiced religious freedom! Religious freedom! In a medieval world!! That was beyond Susan's wildest expectations. It was honestly a miracle. A relatively primitive one, of course, compared to modern Earth attempts at such. The Braavosi version of religious freedom was composed of giving every known religion — living or dead — a place in their city. That obviously led to its own fair share of issues and gave rise to a whole new game where a hundred disparate religions vied for standing and influence within the city. But the Braavosi were still fairing leagues better than any other in that arena. No one religion was allowed to rule the greatest of the Free Cities, not even the Braavosi's own Moonsingers or House of Black and White.

Still, the prominence of Braavos might just have something to do with 'divine' favor. Susan couldn't dismiss the prospect out of hand. Not in a world where gods were real, if not truly 'divine'. She could easily see the city being declared a sort of astral meeting ground, sacred to almost literally every religion and god in the world. If that was true, it wasn't too much of a stretch to say that Braavos was a city that bore the favor of a hundred gods. And even further, magic's return to the world would likely see that favor expressed much more concretely in the near future.

Personally, Susan didn't care much for all of that religion-realized junk. The gods of this world might have been powerful, but she was a firm follower of Magic itself. Perhaps Lady Hogwarts as well if pressed. She didn't worry or care much for the unfathomably powerful magical entities that this world called gods otherwise. She and Neville left that business up to Hannah. Their gentle companion was very much the brains behind their coven trio.

Susan knew that Hannah had ideas to best work with and around (read: exploit) the gods of this world. As good as the three of them were (and Witches and Wizard to boot!), they'd need all the help they could get for their quest. Pseudo-divine favor would certainly be a boon. They'd already ruined that chance with the Old Gods of the North. They'd manage no matter what — of that, Susan was confident — but 'sponsors' wouldn't be remiss when they were crusading against an entire continent.

According to Hannah's research into the various 'divine' powers, the Old Gods of Westeros would have been prime candidates. Before, you know… they broke one of the most key pillars of their worship… Guest Rights were a big deal, who knew? And while they wouldn't be getting divinely smote anytime soon, they also wouldn't be seeing any support from the Old Gods and their magical network.

The Seven of the Andal Faith were another prime candidate, Hannah said. They were very focused on humanity itself and hated slavery just as the Old Gods did. With magic's return to the world, the Seven were becoming much more materially active, granting magical miracles to their followers and Faithful. If the three of them could gain the Seven's blessing, their crusade was all that much more likely to succeed.

The tentatively second-best option was the Many-Faced God of the Faceless Men. But there was woefully little information available on that faith. People were rather scared and wary of the literal death cult in their midst, it turned out. Hannah had only been able to find the bare minimum, even in Braavos where the Faceless Men based themselves.

The true identity of the Many-Faced God was whispered and heavily debated in hushed tones. Was it the Stranger of the Seven? The Great Other opposite of R'hllor? The Black Goat of Qohor? The Yi-Ti-ish Lion of Night? All of them and none at the same time? The only certainty was that the Many-Faced God dealt only in death and the Faceless Men granted its gifts. In all likelihood, that was its most accurate recounting. The Many-Faced God was simply Death by another name and it had a place in every religion.

But Hannah had happened upon a key bit of information that led her to consider taking the Many-Faced God as their 'sponsor'. Strangely, the information wasn't in a book or text. Instead, it was whispered to her by a suspiciously plain-faced man at a suspiciously perfect place and time. Susan would have rolled her eyes if she hadn't been busy glaring the obvious Faceless Man half to death. He only seemed to revel in her deadly, Auntie-inspired glare though…

The man recounted the history and founding of the Faceless Men and their House of Black and White. From his lips, the Many-Faced God truly was Death. Death that'd been prayed to and for by slaves across the continent. Eventually, some of the slaves escaped and began to carry out Death's will. They granted the gift of peace to their still-enslaved brothers and sisters. Eventually, the Faceless Men expanded their efforts, spreading death in their god's name for coin and favors. But they never forgot their origins and they were always especially eager to gift death to slavers over everyone else.

It wasn't an offer. But it also wasn't 'not' one. Rather, the message was clear. The Faceless Men somehow knew of their coming crusade against slavery. And they wanted in, it seemed. Or at least, they weren't opposed to helping any and all slavers see the graceful gift of death. Honestly… Susan wasn't completely sure how to feel about that.

In a way, it was vindicating. Slavers only deserved death. Even Death itself thought so. Susan's crusade was beyond righteous. It was practically divinely ordained. In another way… It was somewhat worrying. The Faceless Men weren't shy about their beliefs that death was the ultimate gift. They'd given it to slaves with no other options just as readily as they gave it to the slavers responsible for their suffering.

Susan didn't particularly want to invite that kind of widespread death into her crusade. For slavers and those who supported them? Absolutely. But not for the slaves who had no choice but to pray for death. She wished for them to be free, wished for them to see the world without chains weighing them down. So she was perhaps understandably wary of the Faceless Men and their Many-Faced God.

"-And that's not even mentioning how they knew about our crusade in the first place," Susan said as much aloud to her dear companions. "What, are they spying on us or something?"

"Maybe Lady Hogwarts told their Many-Faced God and it told them," Hannah suggested.

"That-!" Susan paused. "Oh, I hate how that's not even that far-fetched…"

"We just have to trust that Hogwarts has our best interests in mind," Neville soothed. "And honestly, watching the castle's spirit grow into a goddess in her own right — by this world's standards, at least — can only be a good thing."

Hannah nodded, "She came with us to this world and now she's proving herself the Patron Saint of Wizardry. If only the Founders could see their creation now."

"I'm still going to be wary of all of the religious BS," Susan grumbled. "Auntie warned me about the tedium of dealing with politics. I just never thought it'd be 'divine' politics when I dealt with it…"

Neville chuckled with that low rumble of his that sent Susan's stomach into butterflies, "I doubt she expected it either. Still, this is the world we currently live in. One way or another, we'll make do."

"Not even the 'gods' will stop our crusade…" Susan shook 'divine' thoughts from her mind, "Bah! Enough of that. We're finally out on our own, and in the best city this world has to offer to boot! Let's just enjoy our vacation here together."

"Our honeymoon, you mean?" Hannah teased with the slightest of smirks.

Susan unsuccessfully fought down her blush, "I-I mean…"

Thankfully, Neville did the same beside her in the half-circle booth, "W-We haven't officially handfasted just yet…"

"I'm sure we can change that," Hannah said, nonchalantly blunt in that direct and dutiful way of hers. "In a city like this, there's likely a plethora of men and women who are willing to carry out a foreign ceremony."

She was right, of course. In a city like Braavos, they could throw a rock and come up with someone who would wed them, and in their own traditions as well. The thought sent thrills to Susan's romantic mind. To be married in a wonderfully foreign city like this, it would be as if they eloped in a whirlwind of romance instead of fleeing the consequences of their business in the North. Still, part of Susan positively ached at the idea…

She shook her head, "Auntie would never forgive me. I don't want to do it without her. Or our friends. When we wed, it should be in the Great Hall, under that familiar ceiling, and to the cheers of friends and family. Besides, Professor Sprout should do the honors."

Hannah nodded without taking any offense, "I thought you'd say as much. I've half a mind to be already pregnant when we finally join our hands anyway."

"P-Pregnant-?!" Neville choked on his tea and Susan couldn't help but giggle.

"You object?" Hannah raised a single, unfazed eyebrow.

"Surely, you can't be surprised, Neville~," Susan teased.

"Not surprised, no…" Neville took a moment to gather himself. "I just didn't know you were so eager, Hannah."

"Seeing to the next generation is our duty — in this world or the last," Hannah said unflinchingly. "I'm determined to see all of our Houses continued. I will birth strong heirs for you, Neville. They'll take the Abbott and Longbottom names and they shall be ours forevermore. I would have you raise them beside me. Of that, never let yourself doubt."

"Just one for me," Susan snorted. "If that. Little Edgar will be able to continue House Bones just as well as I can. I'd rather be out and about, changing the world than be stuck barefoot and pregnant."

"I'll take up your motherly duties as well if called upon. So you may play the returning hero as many times as you wish, Susan," Hannah said cannily.

Susan couldn't fight back her blush at that, "… Having a loving home and family to return to each time will be more than enough for me."

"And where does that leave me?" Neville asked, chuckling.

"As a husband and a father," Hannah answered firmly. "As a protector and provider. As a warrior and hero for us and our children and so many more beyond."

Neville got that sort of dumb and dumber-founded look in his eyes. He was practically stun-locked, his eyes going distant. Susan knew he was — as always — trying to fathom their relationship. It was at times like this that the scared boy she once knew peeked through the confident man he'd become. It was flattering and worrying in equal parts. So Susan moved to deliver the knockout blow to Hannah's blunt verbal combo.

And she only barely stuttered to say it out loud! "A-As the man we both love. And who loves us in turn."

Neville sucked in a sharp breath and a wide, boyish grin spread over his nobly handsome face, "I think I can live with that."

Susan couldn't help but smile as well. His joy was infectious. It was better than she ever imagined it would be when she was younger. Neville was sweet as a boy. It was that sweetness that she'd fallen for as a girl in the years they grew up together before Hogwarts. But he also had a sense of melancholy to him then, a sense of being beaten down by the world.

That melancholy continued after he came to Hogwarts and stumbled in his first few years. Susan had wanted nothing more than to see him happy like this. Now, he'd grown into a man she barely recognized in the best of ways. Her stomach flipped and her heart fluttered that she and Hannah were the reason for his joy.

"Good," Hannah nodded, her tone no-nonsense and sounding much more callous than Susan knew it truly was. "I'd expect nothing less from the father of my children."

Neville blushed slightly but his grin never faded. Susan couldn't help but giggle as a thought struck her, "Maeve and Morgana, you're going to be insufferable pregnant, Hannah."

"Most likely. And I'll expect both of you to do your duty and wait on me hand and foot despite that," Hannah said imperiously.

Her tone, words, and Neville's sputtering sent Susan into peals of laughter. It felt like her soul itself was warmed over by the domestic bliss of the scene. Just the three of them, sitting in an honest-to-magic cafe in a city that surpassed their greatest expectations for this world. They had good tea and good company. What more did they need?

Not even thoughts of their coming crusade could dampen Susan's mood. It wasn't as if they were slacking off on that righteous mission and purpose either. But all they could do for the moment was wait for the next piece to fall into place. They might as well enjoy themselves in the meantime.

Soon enough though, that 'next piece' did fall. The fourth and final comrade of their crusade returned to them. Susan wouldn't put him nearly on the same level as Neville or Hannah, but Domeric 'Rightie' Noname was useful and agreeable enough. And he was most certainly loyal to them — and their cause through them — because of the little… situation… they'd saved him from.

Domeric came stumbling into the cafe and up to their booth. He was dazed and unsteady on his feet. He clutched his one remaining arm to his chest as if he'd been wounded but there wasn't a spot of blood on him. He was… a touch dramatic, they'd found out. A real drama queen, though Susan hadn't called him that to his face. She was saving that for when he hammed it up a bit too much… So of course he earned the 'title' right then and there.

"S-So… much…!" Domeric muttered and wheezed. "Paperwork!"

He collapsed into the booth at Susan's side, exclaiming a plea to the concerned hostess who followed him and tried to assist, "Ale! By the Seven Above, ale! As strong as you've got! I can only hope I don't succumb to my weary woes before you return with it…!"

Susan rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up, you drama queen. You're not dying and this isn't that kind of establishment."

Domeric immediately turned pleading pale eyes onto the hostess, "No, fair lady, tell me it isn't so!"

Even without an arm, Domeric was a handsome man. He had his father's eyes — like shockingly blue ice chips — but pretty features to go along with them, unlike his disavowed sire. Additionally, his pretty 'blue-eyed boy' eyes lit up with energy, again unlike the late Lord Bolton. In all, combined with the earnest if dramatic plea, the hostess was left blushing and flustered at his attention.

"I-I'm afraid she is correct, Esteemed Customer. This is a teahouse, not a tavern. My sincerest apologies for the inconvenience," She bowed deeply as if she were trying to cover her blushing cheeks.

Domeric grinned like a dashing rogue, "Oh~? Well, then what can you offer, fair lady~?"

"We have a variety of teas to be brewed. And the juice of the Summer Island's mango fruit is quite exquisite, in my opinion. 'Tis my favorite and we are lucky to have a fresh shipment in stock," The hostess said, growing more comfortable on the familiar ground.

"Then perhaps I will partake after all," Domeric replied. "And perhaps a certain fair lady wouldn't mind being bought a drink from her fine establishment if she has the free time~?"

"Flirt later," Hannah cut in, saving the hostess as her blush redoubled. "Report now."

"Very well," Domeric sighed dramatically before leaving the hostess with a parting question and offer, "Will I find you here when night falls, fair lady? I would treat you to the fairest of company. Or at least, all that I can personally offer you~…"

The hostess squeaked and began to scurry off. Before she fully could, she gave Domeric a series of flustered nods. He just winked and waved her off after that. And as much as Susan wanted to roll her eyes at his flirting, it was good to see that his torture and losing an arm hadn't killed his love for life. He was a good bloke at the end of the day and Susan was happy to have him working with them. Of course, to actually get anything done, they needed to cut through his theatrics.

"Now~!" Domeric turned his attention back to them with a flourish. "You three officially have a meeting scheduled with the Iron Bank. They're expecting you and a manager has been assigned to accommodate whatever time is most convenient to you."

"That's good news," Neville nodded. "I wasn't expecting nearly that much progress."

"Yeah," Susan eyed Domeric with narrowing eyes. "I would have thought the managers of the famed Iron Bank would be too busy to meet with three unknown foreigners."

"An Iron Bank manager isn't nearly as important as the position sounds. They'll speak for the Bank but it's not as if I secured a meeting with one of the Keyholders. Still, it is a boon from them to be certain," Domeric chuckled. "It seems that Neville's recent exploits within the city are already becoming legendary. The Iron Bank seems to think you'll need a place to store the small mountain of gold your sword has won."

"It's not my fault!" Neville groaned. "They just kept coming! I didn't start a single fight! It was like they wanted to split their throats on my sword!"

"Yes, you've just described the bravos of Braavos rather well," Domeric said, smirking.

"That's just what they do?" Susan asked, barely holding in her laughter.

"That's just what they do," Domeric confirmed. "They live for the drama and the fights."

"Even more than you do?" Hannah bluntly interrupted.

Domeric rolled his eyes, "Yes, even more than me. They're essentially dueling peacocks, out to prove themselves and their skills. Their water dance and the art of the blade are sacred to them. It's a strange way of life. They don't need much if any reason to fight and they don't even mind if they die in the process. And since Neville carries a sword, he's fair game."

"Fair game for half the fucking city to challenge me to deadly duels?" Neville stared incredulously.

"That's about the sum of it," Domeric smirked.

"This-… This is ridiculous," Neville sighed.

"All things considered, they're rather civil about it. They have a code that they tend to stick to and they rarely involve innocents in their fun," Domeric elaborated. "But everyone in Braavos knows to stay away from the men in flashy colors with their swords by their sides."

"Rarely involve innocents, my ass," Neville grumbled. "What am I then?"

Domeric shrugged, "You wore a sword in Braavos. That's about as close as you can get to asking for it in this city. Then after you utterly dismantled your first bravo, your reputation as a worthy opponent would have quickly spread to the rest."

"What's done is done," Hannah cut in. "You got us a meeting with the Iron Bank, Neville. That should count for something. You don't have to like it but we can make our case for funding now."

"I'd say the Bank is likely to agree but you can never be sure," Domeric said. "Who knows what goes through the minds of the Keyholders? They're some of the most powerful people in Essos and not one of their names is known publicly. I'd imagine we'll meet one soon enough though. Once known, your plan won't be seen to by a mere manager."

"Oh, oh! What fun~!" Susan practically vibrated with excitement. "Progress! Finally! What are we waiting for?!"

Hannah sniffed imperiously, "I'd like to finish my tea, at least. It might be a long time until we find another cuppa like this."

"I'd also like a moment to rest," Domeric put in, amusement clear in his voice. "I did just spend the whole day running around and doing your bidding, after all."

"Fine…" Susan grumbled. "But hurry up. Freedom waits for no man."

"Or cuppa," Neville joked.

In the end, they did wait for Hannah to fully finish her tea. Not that Susan was all too happy about that. Now that they'd seen progress, every moment felt like a moment wasted. They should be making haste to the Iron Bank. The sooner they secured funding, the sooner they could begin truly crusading. Braavos might have been free but no other city in Essos was. Men, women, and children languished in chains. And while Susan logically knew that a cuppa tea didn't truly cost them much if anything, she couldn't help her righteous rush to action.

Unfortunately, reality seemed to have a glaring grudge. The need for money was ever-present and unavoidable. Even Hogwarts and the flourishing New Hogsmeade couldn't singlehandedly fund a continent-wide crusade against slavery. Much less the aftermath of unknown millions of freed slaves. As much as she hated it, Susan couldn't rush straight to the dreadfully named Slaver's Bay and lay waste to its slavers. Their fledgling crusade would need… help if it wished to get off the ground.

The worst part of that help would be relying on others, Susan knew. Oh, how she knew… If Auntie could've done everything by herself, Magical Britain would've been crime-free years ago. And Susan would be running into the same infuriating inability to be everywhere at once. She'd have to wait as muggles arranged things in their nonmagical way and she just knew it would drive her up the wall. Yet there wasn't anything to be done. At the very least, they'd need muggle gold before they could go running off and actually do something productive.

After Hannah finished her tea, they paid and left the cafe. Immediately, they were greeted by fog and the lightest of drizzles. The hidden city of Braavos was plagued by dreary weather. Susan felt it only added to the atmosphere though. A sort of mysterious and protective veil that'd allowed the city's wonderful advancements to flourish without interference.

The city itself was spread over a great many islands within the lagoon in which it sat. Much of the travel inside Braavos' limits was done by boat or gondola. It was like Venice or Amsterdam in that sense, and some of the larger islands even had canals that ran through them to further facilitate water travel.

Their quartet of future crusaders caught a gondola to ferry them to the Iron Bank. Domeric assured them that the Bank would answer their calls, even as night grew near and dusk began to fall over the foggy city. They set out to calm waters and busy 'streets'. Everywhere they looked, people were out, about, and moving. It was a sight befitting London. It seemed even in this new world, cities never slept.

Nightfall also happened to be the time when Neville's 'fated rivals' came out in force. The bravos of Braavos strutted and swaggered on every island in sight. They commandeered boats and gondolas, standing tall at the prows like figureheads. They postured and picked fights over the slightest of slights to their pride. Every now and then, the sounds of clashing steel echoed throughout the city's streets and canals. The sounds only grew more frequent as night fell in truth.

Neville didn't escape their attention, though he very much looked as if he wished he did. But as Domeric had said, his reputation was already becoming legendary. Susan couldn't help but giggle at the utter exasperation on her lover's face. He looked moments away from hiding his face in his hands and praying they all went away.

The bravos called out as they saw him — praising and challenging, goading and exalting, and altogether peacocking to ensure they were heard and seen.

"Ser Hexblade!"

"Taste my steel if you dare, good bravo!"

"The Knight of a Thousand Duels!"

"Haha! Impressive! But will your skill be enough for the legendary Spotted Boobie of Sweetwater?! We will be the greatest of rivals, my friend!"

"I shall bring your fledging legend to an early end!"

"The Knight, the Knight!"

"The Knight of a Thousand Duels!"

Through all of their goading and challenging calls, one title stood out. The 'Knight of a Thousand Duels'. Honestly, Susan thought it was quite clever if as flamboyant as anything else the bravos did. It referenced Neville's 'Westerosi' origins and the first night they arrived in Braavos. They'd been ignorant of the bravos then and Neville walked around after dark with a sword at his side. That made him free game for anyone to challenge. Open season, and he didn't even know it at the time. Bravo after bravo challenged him to duel after duel. Neville won them all. And the beginnings of his Braavosi legend were forged on that 'night'.

While Neville tried his best to cease existing, one bold bravo leaped into their boat. His footing was firm and graceful and he wielded a thin rapier as was so common among the water-dancing bravos. A head of curls billowed in the wind, so luscious and full that Susan couldn't believe it wasn't a primitive perm of some kind. Twin scars marred his cheeks.

"Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya! You killed my father! Prepare to die!"

Neville groaned and threw his hands up in frustration, "Not tonight! I'm not wearing a sword, see?! No challenges!"

The unexpected reply brought the man up short, "Ah. Ah, I see… My apologies, Knight of a Thousand Duels. I shall seek you out at a later and more convenient date."

Meanwhile, Susan and Hannah were practically gaping at the familiar man and his famously familiar line. They might have been Witches and rather ignorant of muggle matters. But Auntie had taken Susan and Hannah to see that particular cult classic. It'd been their first moving picture after Auntie caught quite a bit of it during one of her stakeouts.

They exchanged glances and Hannah said what they were both thinking, "Surely… it's just a coincidence… right?"

Unfortunately, they didn't get the chance to pick Essosi Inigo Montoya's brain with the hundred questions they suddenly had. Their gondolier diverted the gondola close to the edge of the canal and he hopped onto dry land. Before they left him, Inigo Montoya saluted Neville with a flourish of his blade. Neville waved back, exasperation heavy in his every movement. After that, their trip to the Iron Bank passed without another incident. Susan and Hannah were forced to push their questions to the back of their minds, only hoping and praying that they'd be able to revisit the coincidence in the future.

Their gondola eventually came to the Sealord's square. The island it was on was well-positioned, immediately to the east of the Purple Harbor. Braavosi ships returning home would see their city's grandest sights as they disembarked. One side of the island was dominated by the Sealord's palace, a grand and sprawling thing befitting the ruler of Braavos. Many domes and towers housed the seat of Braavosi power. A spire reached above it all, bearing a golden lightning bolt that seemed to shine like a lighthouse through the fog of the city.

The other side of the island was dominated by the Iron Bank. It was a large, brutal building, with vaguely Roman styling and architecture. Pale, bleached stones made up its walls and harsh corners. Many pillars of shining marble lined the walls like a Grecian pavilion, some many stories tall in impossible feats of architecture, engineering, and logistics. Statues of blackened iron lined the roof, their constant vigil almost invisible in the city's dimming light.

Domeric led the way into the Bank. Immediately upon their entrance, the four of them were seen to by the staff. As if their arrival was predicted or otherwise warned about beforehand. Considering it took them all of 30 minutes to traverse the city on the way there, that was an impressive feat. Deep into the Bank's iron depths, they were led. So deep that Domeric even began to shift uncomfortably.

He chuckled awkwardly, "Ah, I may have miscalculated something…"

"Domeric…?" Susan asked, a warning in her tone.

"Nothing to be worried about!" He quickly reassured. "Just… I do not believe we'll be seeing a mere manager after all."

When they were firmly underground, walking through tunnels that must have been mineshafts at one point, the Banker leading them stopped. He bowed before a great iron vault door, reminiscent of anything the Goblins of Earth would have built, in Susan's mind. It turned and swung open with an eerie silence.

"The Keyholders will see you now."

Wary and constantly vigilant, Susan was the first into the vault. Her wand was already out and ready. In an instant, she could send curses and hexes flying. Just as Moody and Auntie had trained her to. But in the end, violence wasn't necessary. The only things in the vault were a table, cut from a giant slab of marble, and a few chairs on either side of it. Sitting in those chairs, a pair of suspiciously familiar faces greeted them.

Susan sighed and slumped herself unceremoniously into one of the offered seats, "Faceless Men."

Domeric jumped at that, but Hannah and Neville didn't flinch at all. Their faces were set and serious as they joined her in the seats. Neither side said anything more until Domeric managed to conquer his nerves and sat as well. Both of the Iron Bank's Keyholders wore the same face that'd whispered the history of the House of Black and White to Hannah. Yet they clearly weren't twins. Instead, they were the exact same person, sitting side by side, down to the tiniest details.

Both Keyholders nodded their heads in shallow bows of acknowledgment and greeting. As they did, their features and bodies shifted and morphed in a magically familiar way. Though they stayed identical through the process, Susan didn't recognize the new face they assumed. It was blank and wholly unremarkable… other than the fact that it wasn't flesh any longer. The Keyholders' very faces were replaced by masks of iron.

Then they spoke with the same voice, and Susan guessed that the identical likeness between them was much more than skin-deep, "Welcome, Bones, Abbott, and Longbottom of Hogwarts. We are one. We are many. We are Keyholders. We are 'They Without Face'. Our benevolent god tells us we must give generous thanks to you and your patron, for your arrival has blessed us and them beyond any measure. Our gifts are yours to give for some time and your noble cause shall be ours if you only ask."

"Wait, wait!" Domeric couldn't hold his tongue. "The Iron Bank are the Faceless Men?! The Faceless Men run the Iron Bank?!"

The Keyholders' replies echoed in eerie synch, "We are one. We are many. We wear faces, all and none."

"Wonderful," Susan grumbled. "Just bloody brilliant. A whole hivemind order of Metamorphagus assassins who also happen to run the fucking world economy."

"What do you know of Hogwarts?" Neville cut in, his tone and words dangerously sharp.

"Lady Hogwarts is good and kind. Lady Hogwarts is protective of her charges. Lady Hogwarts is the Bringer of Magic. She recognized our benevolent god for what they are, despite their many faces. She remembered her own legends of them and their purpose. She has carved herself a place in the pantheon of pantheons and no divines dare question her position, for she has aided them, one and all. No longer does the world's magic strangle itself and choke on a half-millennium-old Doom. To the Bringer of Magic, even Death would bow their many heads in acknowledgment."

The dual-toned answer silenced them all. Domeric looked panicked and plagued by existential dread. He was likely only moments away from fainting on the spot. Neville, Hannah, and Susan took the Keyholders' words in better stride. But even they barely knew what to do with the information. It was above their pay grade and far from their area of expertise. The only thing Susan could think to do with it was hand it off to the research teams back home and try her damnedest to wipe her hands of the fact that Hogwarts was becoming or had already become a magical goddess. They'd suspected as much, of course, but it was a whole other thing to have it confirmed.

"Nice…" Susan said slowly. "Cool. Great. Wicked. That's all wonderful to hear. Anyway… Moving on!"

The Faceless Keyholders didn't laugh but Susan could practically feel amusement radiating from their iron masks, "Indeed. We are only mortal servants, blessed by our benevolent divines. Their godly game is played through us but we must make our own moves and actions. It is in these mortal machinations that the Iron Bank and House of Black and White might help you. You and your… crusade…"

Susan frowned at how much they knew, how much their Many-Faced God apparently told them, but Hannah pressed onward for her, "You'll fund us? Assist us? Maybe take the blame so it doesn't all fall on us?"

In synch, the Faceless Keyholders nodded once, "Slavery is… an abomination. The greatest sin. The Many-Faced God first rose to give their gifts to those weary souls who could no longer bear the burden of their chains. Their followers then became the freest of men. We would see our god's work continue. See it is finally finished. For your noblest of crusades, you would have our every resource at your disposal…"

The declaration lingered in the air for a moment before a wide grin began to split open across Susan's face and she practically purred, "Perfect~…"

In that vault deep below the Iron Bank, history was made. A righteous cause and its champions found essential support. A continent-shattering ball was set into motion. Lady Hogwarts had brought more than just magic back into the world. She brought change as well, and the shining souls who would see it through, for good and for bad alike. Uprooting a continent-wide cultural institution was no small matter. Yet Lady Hogwarts looked upon her charges fondly. Under their patron's watchful eyes, Susan, Neville, and Hannah were determined to do what was right, no matter what their crusade might come to cost them…