“How do you do it? Your public speeches have them completely engaged and focused. You get them to laugh. I put them to sleep. I try to be thorough and precise, and all I manage to do is have them check their watches”. Lyra was finished doing Hermione’s hair, and was now doing her nails. Of course they could have done it with magic, but where was the fun in that? She smiled.

“Your mistake is in assuming you’re fighting their lack of information and wrong ideas. Your approach is to create a meticulous, very well researched argument, and then you start with everything everybody would normally miss. So, of course, you lose them in the first sentence.” Lyra applied the acrylic gel very carefully to Hermione’s finger. Normally, it would require UV light to cure, but they did that part with magic.

“Also, your mind is your greatest weapon, so you’re behaving like a person who has a hammer and keeps acting as if everything were a nail. Talking to people is not the same thing as writing a scientific paper. You’re fighting their ignorance, yes, but mostly you’re fighting their boredom, lack of attention, and belief that they have better things to do later. You need to engage them in such a way that they forget about everything else, and you do it by wrestling away their attention from everything else and commanding it instantly. Are you familiar with the medieval mnemotechnic methods? Coena Cypriani, in particular?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the sudden topic shift. “I heard of it, but I can’t say I gave it much thought. Why?”

“Well, they used colourful imagery, that instantly catches attention and wakes up the mind, in order to make something possibly boring or unremarkable extremely easy to remember. It would be something related to sex, indignity or absurdity, and once you remember the funny version of a story, you never forget it, and it’s easy to reconstruct and remember the actual version. That’s the method I use in my speeches. I get their attention with something colourful, and once I have them listening, I just tell them what I need them to know”, Lyra smiled as she applied the dye to the last fingernail of Hermione’s right hand. She closed her eyes, and in a brief flash of magic the dye was cured. Hermione offered her left hand. “Remember how I addressed the Wizengamot after the war?”

“Everybody in the world remembers it”, Hermione smiled. “It was published verbatim in the Daily Prophet, and it became the cornerstone of our politics ever since”.

“Honoured ladies and gentlemen, allow me to bring your attention to a very interesting fact that I noticed. We just won a war against a group that liked killing and torturing people very much, and all of it justified by the supposed fight for wizard supremacy. They had all kinds of derogatory names for people who didn’t share their beliefs. One of them was ‘blood traitor’. I find this term quite funny, since I did some looking into things, inspired by my glorious husband. You see, he brought it to my attention that anything less than three children per couple leads to biological extinction with mathematical certainty. One would expect this to be the cornerstone issue of wizarding politics and ministry policy, but on the contrary, it is never mentioned. The pureblood families instead talk a lot about pure blood and how much it matters, but when it comes to actually making pureblood babies, they always seem to have something better to do – things such as killing or torturing pureblood wizards and witches. Just look at Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald. They spent their youth conceiving plans for wizard supremacy, but they never bothered to conceive some actual wizard babies, and so both their families were extinct. The Crouch family had only one son, who was so busy with pureblood supremacy politics that he never bothered to marry, so their family went extinct. The Lestranges, too, cared so much about pure blood that they both never bothered to have children. After all, who would have time for something as trivial, when more important things were at hand, such as torturing the Longbottom couple to insanity and ending up in Azkaban. Even when wizards and witches actually bothered to have children, they would usually stop at one. My own parents used to be the paragons of pureblood supremacy, but they spent their fertile years in political scheming and only bothered to conceive one daughter, whom they, I am sorry to say, exposed to all kinds of dangers by turning our ancestral home into the headquarters of Lord Voldemort and his murderous followers. I could have been killed at any moment and I spent three years in mortal terror; and that’s how they treated an actual pureblood heiress, the only hope for their ancient family to continue. So, I recommend that we redefine the term ‘blood traitor’ for people like the Dumbledores, Crouches, Lestranges and my own parents. They betrayed their blood by allowing their families to come to the brink of extinction, or merrily cross into it, all the while making big statements about the importance of pure blood that served to demean the ‘lesser’ wizarding families, such as the Weasleys, whom I’ve heard addressed in all sorts of derogatory names, ‘blood traitors’ being the foremost, and yet, if we had to name a family that is at no threat of extinction, it would be the Weasleys, because they are a pureblood family that treated their pure blood with enough respect to actually bother having seven children. If anything, they should be given a medal for their great service to the wizarding community, because they acted in honour of their blood, where others spent mere words. And while we’re at that, I will now bid you farewell, because I have a baby to make.”

“You were absolutely hilarious; you had them switch from laughing to deathly seriousness and back to laughter. But your next speech, that was even better”, Hermione laughed so hard that her hand shook and Lyra had to pause painting her nail.

“Most respected judges, I have been called here to tell you about the anti-Dementor spell that I devised. I will do so, but only after I explain the necessary conditions that made its creation possible. You see, there are certain expectations in society, such as that my husband and I, both members of the magical law enforcement, are working when we are at the Ministry, or out in the field, hunting werewolves, dementors and death eaters. But that would be such an unfortunate mistake, because two Aurors, who are also husband and wife, never actually stop working. For instance, at one point we were in bed, resting blissfully after a very enthusiastic effort at making a baby, when I thought that our present state was very much the opposite of what a Dementor is, and thought to make use of this by making a spell that relied on the specific state of both our souls. I would never have thought of it in that boring office, that would make one into a Dementor sooner than giving them an idea on how to defeat one. And why are wizards and witches even spending their best years in that building, pretending to be muggle clerks at the tax office? We are magical beings. We can communicate at a distance. We can connect to coworkers easily from home. We can apparate instantly if there’s a need. I don’t even know who thought of a brilliant idea of wasting magical lives in order to emulate the dreadful muggle bureaucracy that is inherently devoid of everything magical. We can do so much better. We can accommodate for married couples and treat them as a unit, rather than pretending they are separate individuals. Married couples are so much more effective as a team than anything else, and this fact is completely ignored. Also, women are treated as if they were men – and so, no accommodation has been made for the fact that they might want to have babies. It’s actually discouraged and seen as unprofessional, or unbecoming. Believe it or not, I actually hunted down a werewolf while I was six months pregnant, and I think I handled myself quite well. Unfortunately, he resisted arrest, as they somehow always happen to, but that is beside the point, which is that we can’t have an effective repopulation policy unless we stop separating the married couples, having them waste their best reproductive years in dull offices doing paperwork, and treating women with proper respect only if they emulate men, who are never pregnant or breastfeeding an infant. Of course it would be foolish to relegate women to a housewife role only, since we can’t afford to be deprived of their brains and abilities. But we must create an option for a woman to integrate motherhood with career in ways that would make things easier for her, and not create a double burden. Do not underestimate the importance of marital intimacy in a deeply professional setting; I hear that my spell is esteemed quite highly. I just wanted you to know how it came to be, and that, by the way, is a pun. Thank you for your attention”.

“That was fun, especially considering I was so far along with my pregnancy, I was almost in labor when giving that speech”, Lyra grinned, curing the dye on the left hand.

“I would know, since I helped with the delivery, as you well know”, Hermione smiled at her best friend. “And mine was not much behind.”

“So, about the speeches. You seem to think that more evidence and logic will be more convincing. Sure, put it all in the footnotes of a printed copy you give out to the audience. If they want evidence for some thesis, they can find it there. Just don’t lead with that. Give them the bottom line, give them very visual examples that illustrate it, and then just indicate that there’s more if they’re interested. Give them an example from real life. For instance, if you want them to take House Elf rights seriously, tell them about Doby or Kreacher. Make them feel like the actual persons they are. Don’t get too abstract. I know, you do it because you’re good at it but it’s counterproductive at times”, Lyra smiled and returned the hand with the freshly finished nail job.

Hermione hugged her. “Thank you, my goddess”, she giggled.

“Wait, how am I your goddess if I’m doing your hair and nails?”, Lyra hugged her back. “I thought I was your lady’s maid”.

“No, you’re just a wonderful goddess who has a very intimate and personal relationship with your worshipper”.

Lyra whined out of embarrassment, to Hermione’s delight. “Beige pink?”

“The usual”, Lyra smiled as Hermione took her hand.

“Tell me how it was for you”, Hermione was sitting on the couch next to Lyra, while Harry and Viktor were talking Quidditch. “To me, when you were being offensive and hostile, I initially reacted with the typical childish pouting. You know the kind, ‘she’s just a stupid cow’”, she giggled. “But when I saw you later for what you are, it became one of the worst feelings in the world. You were not a stupid cow. You were horrifyingly intelligent, competent, dignified and brave; I was despised and considered subhuman by the best girl of our generation. After your stunt in the hallway when you challenged Harry to kill you, I outright admired you, and my reaction would normally be to come talk to you and tell you how impressive that was, but I was too much of a coward to face the possible humiliation of you looking at me from head to toe, making a face like you smelled something nasty, and just silently turning away”, she finished.

“I’d like to be able to say that you were wrong, because I really was a stupid cow”, Lyra grinned painfully. “I was just a kid repeating what my parents taught me, and at first, I thought that the ‘mudbloods’ were people devoid of all the virtues I was taught to be the property of a pureblood wizard or a witch; intelligence, courage, dignity, refinement, tradition, magical ability, nobility and so on. Then I saw people like Crabbe and Goyle, who were idiotic buffoons, while you were the smartest girl in our generation, a magical prodigy, and a brave girl who stood by Harry Potter, who was at first number one on a list my mother taught me, of the boys from ancient magical families who are fit for me to consider for marriage. Soon, he became the only name on my list. And not only did I have to live with the fact that I offended a girl who might have been my friend and confidante through school, but she was also ideally positioned to destroy my life by either taking him away from me, or poisoning his mind against me. To my great fortune, you proved to be a better person than I, and I found out that when you talked to Harry about me, you were impartial and kind. But probably the worst of all was, I couldn’t face any of it at the time. If I was wrong about you, then one of the cornerstones of my parents’ ideology falls. They might even be on the wrong side of the coming war. I could look at Harry and concede that the parts of his mother in him made him better, not worse, but I managed to rationalise it somehow. So, I remained stubborn, if inoffensive, until Voldemort came back and I saw what he’s actually like, and I understood that my father was completely, unjustifiably wrong, and I was stuck at the wrong side of the war, in the headquarters of the worst people in the world, and even worse creatures, where I regretted every nasty word and ugly thought I ever sent your way, and yearned to apologise”, Lyra sighed.

“You weren’t in an easy position”, Hermione nodded. “I can’t imagine what it would have been like for me to find out that my parents taught me wrong and are sided with the greatest evil in the world, and that by trusting them I did all kinds of horrible things. But probably the worst for me was knowledge that you might be right about me. Harry kept your confidence like a perfect gentleman, but he revealed the general gist of your conversations. I couldn’t say for sure that you’re wrong. And also, what I read between the lines is that you’re such a magnificent person, that even what little I surmised seemed to be very far off the mark. Knowing you despised me was hard enough, but knowing that your actual reason was that I lacked tradition, upbringing, that I wouldn’t know the fairy tales the wizards tell their children, that I knew next to nothing about that entire world, and that I might actually be someone who will make a pureblood wizard bond to me for life, only to have non-magical offspring and see his tradition disappear forever. What if I actually end up being a hamster – a cute pet one can’t have a family with? I think I only got over that once I saw my baby levitating in the crib, obviously magical, so I could finally set that terrible thought aside and accept that I’m a proper person”, she shivered.

“It was a terrible thing I did to you, but I didn’t know it was wrong, either. Scientifically, we didn’t actually know. The statistical pool was too shallow for certainty. Squibs happened, and nobody still knows why. Harry might have been an outlier. We don’t actually know how magical blood emerges in muggle marriages, and if it’s inheritable. Your obviously magical daughter increased the statistical probability that I was wrong by a huge factor; that’s how little we know. My obviously magical son is also contributing slightly, and I can’t say I wasn’t a little bit scared; for all I knew, some recessive gene from Lily Evans might have activated in the second generation. However, with what I know now, I would not hesitate to redefine ‘pureblood’ to include you and Lily. You are both obviously pureblood witches. Your magical ability is formidable, and matched by the purity and kindness of your character. Your magical ability is inheritable. What you lacked in education and tradition is easily learned”, Lyra smiled.

“Thank you”, Hermione smiled back and cuddled with her best friend. “You know, I wanted to ease the pang of your insults by believing that the purebloods are just a bunch of inbred haters. However, you actually looked like a superior human being. Other than hating me, I couldn’t point to any single thing where you didn’t appear perfect. You were so beautiful other girls hurt to look at you. You were so smart, I had to work to keep up. You actually looked like a concentration of magical essence and all other virtues. But then I saw other pureblood wizards and some truly looked like inbred haters, so I decided it’s just you being a freak of nature”, she laughed. “It didn’t hurt less to have a beautiful super-genius princess think you’re a hamster, but I didn’t actually feel like one. Instead, I developed a girl crush on you”.

“What does that mean?”, Lyra wondered.

“It’s a muggle thing. It’s what they call one girl admiring another for being all the things you aspire to be. It’s not romantic or sexual, but I guess it’s the second best thing to religious worship”, Hermione smiled shyly. “And to be perfectly honest, since you hit me with that spell of yours, I’m not actually sure it didn’t cross into full religious worship”.

“Please don’t do this to me, Hermione. I’m conceited enough as it is already. I’d actually rather have you think I’m an inbred cow; at least sometimes”, Lyra hugged her and hid her embarrassment in her hair.

“Oh, I’m fully aware that my personal goddess is completely human. However, that just makes you even better, so suck it up”, she giggled at her friend’s embarrassed whine.

“When we mentioned the Dementors yesterday, I had an idea”, she whispered in his ear as they lay intertwined in bed.

“?”

“They multiplied in the dark years. There’s much more of them than there used to be, and it’s a problem. Of the kind that’s our job to solve, now.” She kissed his earlobe.

“Since I don’t think you mean going to all the dark places and blasting them with the Patronus charm, forcing them to relocate to a different dark place, I assume you have a better idea”, he whispered back, smiling.

“I think they are not multiple entities. They are connected in a mesh of sorts. Each individual Dementor feels more like a node in a network, or a tear in space, than a being. That’s why they can’t be killed”, she mused.

He kissed her nose. “Interesting. And if they are all connected, something that kills one could spread across the entire mesh, wiping out all the nodes. And I have something you might find interesting. Since we’re together, like, really together, I never had to use the Patronus charm. It’s like it’s always on. You’re my Patronus without even needing a spell.”

“I’m the Mistress of Fear”, she nodded. “And I’m always yours. That would do it.”

“I can see you have a theory, I just don’t see what it is.” He kissed her temple.

“We make a new spell. You and I together, like this. Perfectly happy. Perfectly home. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. No fear. Death is irrelevant because it would change nothing, we would be in the same place just without the bodies. No threat. Fulfilment. You breathe me in. I breathe you in.” She closed her eyes, and worked something with her finger, as if weaving. He felt deep magic stirring. She whispered a word: “Exalto!” and made a fist. Light exploded in his soul with such power that he put his head on her breasts and wept.

It took him minutes to get his bearings. “What did you do to me? This was absolutely wonderful. It felt like our concentrated love, but not just that – also the memories of my parents, of Dumbledore, of the King’s Cross station representation of Heaven, the moment when I realised that I loved you more than anything, the moment you said ‘yes’, our first kiss, all the times we had sex and came together, all in one moment. My heart exploded”, he whispered.

“I tried it on you first”, she smiled. “I’m glad it works as intended”.

“Wow”, he managed.

“Let’s go to work; we have a captured Dementor there”. She pulled him out of bed.

…

They got all the permissions and went together into the enclosure. The Dementor hissed at them, but there was no reaction. Both of them had permanent and complete immunity. She closed her eyes and pointed her finger at the Dementor. “Exalto!”, she whispered.

The Dementor shivered, exploded with light where there used to be a dark, shrouded appearance, stayed like that as tiny wires of light expanded from it everywhere through space… and the dark fissure in space closed. Everywhere.

…

“You didn’t even need a wand”, Hermione was incredulous.

“I don’t need a wand any more”, Lyra explained. “Humans are naturally only partially magical. We need a conduit, something that is between ourselves and the magical layer of the world beneath the visible. Something that harmonises us with it, allows us to touch it. I first learned to do it without spells, and then I learned that I don’t need the wand if my mind is in the right state. I can tug at the layer of pure magic with my naked mind, without intermediaries”.

“That’s just incredible”, Hermione whispered. “The house Elves can do it that way, I knew that already. Humans can do wandless magic sometimes. Other magical species don’t use wands at all. But I don’t know if any human ever achieved this before. Can you show me? Both the wandless spellcasting, and that new spell? Please?” Hermione cuddled with Lyra, mock-begging with a wide smile.

Lyra smiled back and ruffled her hair. “OK, but be warned: this will be emotionally intense. Really intense.”

“Will it be bad?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“No. It will be the opposite of bad, but so powerful, that I wouldn’t do it outside a private environment because it will leave you completely exposed and vulnerable for a while”, she warned.

Hermione thought about it. “I trust you. Do it.”

Lyra closed her eyes, smiled, touched Hermione’s heart and whispered “Exalto!”.

It took Hermione fifteen minutes to stop crying. Then she hugged Lyra and whispered “I love you so much”.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. I love you too”.

“You were right. I wouldn’t want to feel this outside an intimate setting. I don’t know what God is supposed to feel like, but it can’t be better than this”, Hermione sobbed.