A/N: Best laid plans...
Minerva rose from her desk as the clock chimed half past the hour, striding toward the hearth even as her fireplace began to glow green with an impending Floo call.
The morning had passed quickly in a haze of reports, budgetary concerns, and exchanging owls as she had striven to smooth over the bumps of the last several days. It had been difficult to rise from her bed at six and while Sylvie had already given her one pain potion, Minerva felt the weight of recent events more intensely than she had anticipated.
Waving a hand, she quickly locked her office door to ensure there would be no interruptions before coming to stand before the fireplace even as an elderly witch's face popped into the flames.
Madam Peronne Hesperia was a Professor Emerita of Ilvermorny, having held the post of Transfiguration for a number of years before retiring nearly a decade previous. Minerva had met her infrequently during Society events and read her work in several editions of Transfiguration Today. She had been surprised to receive the witch's correspondence… even further when the elder woman had demanded a private Floo call.
When earlier events of the week had interrupted her schedule, Hesperia had even gone so far as to indicate she would be willing to accommodate the time difference on Minerva's behalf.
Whatever the witch wished to communicate, it appeared to be urgent.
"Madam Hesperia… a pleasure," Minerva said, with a tinge more enthusiasm than she felt. The white-haired witch fixed her with a smile that looked closer to a grimace; the emerald flames gave her pale skin a strange, unearthly pallor.
"I'll beg you to forgive me, Madam McGonagall, if I dispense with the pleasantries for a moment?" Hesperia gave her with a pained expression and Minerva took it in stride, responding with a gracious nod. The slight Southern American accent caught her off-guard.
"By all means, as they hold little interest," Minerva replied evenly. Thank Merlin for small miracles.
From what little she could see, the witch visibly relaxed. The bright blue eyes raked the room quickly and Minerva gathered that the woman was leaning forward slightly.
"I came to deliver a warning," Hesperia said softly, voice barely carrying over the crackle of the flames. Minerva shifted, frowning slightly as she tilted her head.
"I can assure you that Hogwarts is indeed secure, so long as you can vouch for yourself?" She replied, answering the witch's unspoken question. Madam Hesperia closed her eyes briefly before nodding.
"I am speaking to you from Ilvermorny at the moment. As you know, we keep our own hearths free of the MACUSA General Network. May I pass a parchment?"
"Please."
A moment later, the emerald flames leapt slightly and Minerva's reflexes responded quickly as a rolled letter was spat from the hearth. She unrolled it carefully as Hesperia continued.
"I'll get right down to business, Madam. Perhaps you have heard… but as of earlier this week, a former student of mine has gone missing in Central America. Her name is Elizabeth Waterhouse and the current story is that she was lost during an archaeological dig in Guatemala."
Minerva glanced at the parchment which contained a copy of a Muggle newspaper article and a few runes scratched alongside in elegant cursive script.
"I know the name…" Minerva said, trying to put a face to the witch in question. Hesperia gave a sad smile.
"She completed her first classification in Transfiguration beneath me a very long time ago. Nearly twenty years, in fact. Lovely woman, brilliant witch… but eventually she discovered that her true passion lay in the realm of archaeology. She is well known in both the Magical and No-Maj worlds," Hesperia explained. Minerva nodded, lifting her chin and quickly reading the elder witch's concern.
"You do not believe her disappearance to be an accident," she deduced. Hesperia's face fell.
"I do not. Elizabeth was - is… a leader in her field. An absolute genius with an intuitive sensibility… Madam, I've never seen anything like it. She's uncovered twelve lost settlements throughout Central America the last decade. Twelve!"
The witch fixed her with an imploring look. Minerva nodded, brow furrowing as she attempted to understand what the situation had to do with her.
"Forgive me for being blunt, but how do you imagine that I can help?" she asked. The witch sniffed humorlessly.
"Yes…" Hesperia's hand appeared momentarily and smoothed back a strand of brilliant white hair that had come free from her twist. "I do not imagine you can help with the search. Either Elizabeth is in hiding and fending for herself. Or she is dead. These are the only two outcomes I can foresee."
Minerva frowned. There were a significant number of other outcomes that she could have foreseen, but Madam Hesperia seemed adamant. Suspend judgment until all the pieces are on the board, old girl.
"I have reason to believe, however… that a former apprentice of yours may have been involved."
At that, Minerva's heart dropped. She had only ever had two apprentices and it certainly wasn't about to be Diamantina.
"Petrus." The name came out as a whisper and Minerva felt her eyes widen even as Madam Hesperia looked at her in sympathy. Oh Merlin… Petrus, no...
"I am sorry, Madam McGonagall. But I happen to know that his wand signature was recorded by Guatemalan Aurors in a city not fifty miles from where Elizabeth went missing. It seems your former apprentice engaged in some sort of bar fight a day or so previous. A most curious coincidence."
"What is being done about the entire situation?" Minerva asked softly, mind still swimming with the implications. How does this connect?
"At the moment, the MACUSA has sent investigators down to Guatemala, but the results are not promising. Elizabeth's archaeological team was entirely made up of No-Maj scholars - she preferred to work with No-Majs… said they were more intuitive and less likely to defer to magic whenever things got rough. She was… is a tough old broad. I am still trying to keep up hope that she's managed to evade her aggressors, but the investigation appears to have reached a dead end."
"Have the Aurors linked Petrus to Elizabeth's disappearance?" Minerva asked, fearing either answer.
"They have not. I did my own parallel investigation upon learning of Elizabeth's disappearance. I have yet to inform anyone else of what I have learned. You sprang to mind immediately and I have it on good authority from Nyzette that you are connected in ways that may potentially result in swift action. You should know that your efforts during your most recent War did not go unnoticed. Nyzette assures me you are a witch of remarkable honor."
"I shall have to thank Nyzette for her kind words," Minerva paused… unsure of how to make her request without appearing self-serving. Best to be honest. "Madam Hesperia… while it is not my intention to obfuscate your discovery, I wonder-"
Before she could finish her sentence, the white-haired witch held up a hand and Minerva paused in surprise.
"You have my assurances, Madam McGonagall that the information I have just shared with you will remain in confidence. I imagine you have resources that can stretch well beyond my scope, and anyway I have little love for the MACUSA as they have done much to restrict the investigation and little to help. I will gladly provide you with additional information if you feel it may help."
Hesperia dropped her hand, her expression resolute as she looked at Minerva trustingly. Meanwhile, Minerva had to resist the urge to step backwards in shock.
"I… Thank you, Madam for your vote of confidence. I shall do my best to relay your findings to the appropriate authorities. Please believe me when I say that I hold little love for those who have chosen the pathway of Darkness. If Petrus is involved, he will be held accountable," Minerva replied, attempting to infuse her words with her own conviction. Merlin, if you were involved in this Petrus...
"Thank you, Madam McGonagall. My greatest concern of course, is uncovering the truth on behalf of Elizabeth." Madam Hesperia's eyes grew bright and Minerva nodded her sympathy. Briefly she considered how many students she had lost to violence over the years. It never gets easier.
The fire crackled for a moment and Minerva's brow furrowed as she reviewed the available information.
"Madam, forgive my impertinence… but do you know why Elizabeth would have been targeted?"
At that, the witch's expression darkened.
"You know, I've asked myself the same question over the course of the last few days. Beyond the fact that she was a strong and talented witch, I have to imagine it was because of her latest research." Hesperia paused and she momentarily twisted in the flames to look at something out of sight.
"I do not know what she uncovered… but she had written me a few weeks previous to tell me she was on the trail of something rather exciting. The article touches on a few suppositions, but I don't believe any of them to be accurate."
"Do you have your own theories?" Minerva asked, eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms.
"It was not in the nature of my relationship with Elizabeth to discuss either of our research in great detail. We have maintained regular correspondence throughout the years and still attempt to see each other when we can, but our disciplines are very different." The witch sighed and suddenly looked as fatigued as Minerva felt.
"However… when last we spoke, Elizabeth mentioned that she had uncovered an obscure manuscript that appeared to mention… or at least reference the existence of Wizards within an Ancient Maya religious circle. Such a revelation would be ground-breaking as there have long been oral traditions mentioning or at least preserving Magical memory, but no concrete physical evidence of their existence."
"And you believe this manuscript would have been worth her… life?" Minerva paused at the end, unsure of how to phrase the question delicately but Hesperia merely breezed past the intimation.
"Elizabeth indicated that it was a heavily coded document. I do not know the details, but it was her belief that the manuscript was to be read like a map… and that if it could be interpreted correctly, one would follow the map and discover an ancient Wizarding city of the Mayan people."
"That would be ground-breaking, indeed," Minerva said thoughtfully, mind reeling with the implications. "But… do you really believe Petrus D'Artagnan or others would have harmed her for this?"
"Now here is where I delve into the realm of pure speculation, Madam McGonagall…" The witch leaned forward and fixed her with a serious gaze. "Call it instinct or intuition, or the mad musings of an old witch…"
Hesperia closed her eyes for a moment before moving forward again.
"I believe that Elizabeth's intuition was indeed correct. But that, not only was she about to uncover a lost Wizarding stronghold… but a Necromantic one at that."
Minerva stilled even as her thoughts returned to the conversation she had overheard at the emergency convocation. There are no such things as coincidence.
"I understand, Madam," she replied, somewhat distantly. The witch's eyes narrowed perceptively.
"Yes… I believe you do."
They gazed at each other for another long moment before Minerva glanced down at the article in her hand again. It was a Muggle article and the witch gazing back at her was frozen mid-laugh, her hair spilling over one shoulder, eyes sparkling as if she had all the time in the world.
"Then we are understood?"
Minerva felt Madam Hesperia watching her carefully, and she lifted her head even as she inhaled sharply.
"We are. Thank you for the message, Madam." Minerva gave her a brusque nod and the witch moved back slightly, her eyes somewhat lidded.
"Thank you for your time, Madam McGonagall. I hope the situation presents itself soon."
There was a small pop! and Hesperia disappeared, leaving Minerva staring into curling flames that slowly returned to a familiar gold and amber.
For a long moment she remained, replaying bits of the conversation in her thoughts and extrapolating outwards until she held a map of the world in her mind with small pinpricks wherever she felt a flash of intuition. Río… Barcelona… Guatemala… They were all so spread out.
And then there were the players. Petrus… Waterhouse… Theodotus…
Points on a globe and players on a chessboard.
It makes no sense!
Unless…
Minerva felt her heart still as the images in her mind rearranged themselves.
"Albus?"
She turned slowly, her eyes lifting toward the circle of portraits where the blue eyes of her friend were gazing down at her impassively. No, knowingly...
The room seemed absurdly silent and Minerva felt as though her heartbeat somehow pulsed through the thickened air, even as the stone in the pit of her stomach seemed to pull her downward with the weight of her impending decisions.
"Forgive me my petty concerns and naïveté," she whispered. "You were right."
Albus took a deep breath and sat back, giving her a long look down his crooked nose even as she felt her eyes grow moist. Merlin help us…
"Nothing to forgive, my dear. At least now... we have more to offer by way of explanation," he replied gravely. The other portraits watched solemnly as Minerva walked a few steps closer, her heeled boots falling heavy as if they were made of lead.
"Albus… I don't know if I can do this." The pained admission came out as little more than a whisper and Minerva dropped her chin in shame.
She was too tired. Too old. Too weary…
The grandfather clock's tick suddenly caught her attention, marking the passage of time resolutely even as she waited for her friend's answer.
"You must, Tabby."
The silence stretched longer, separated by neatly counted seconds… numbering themselves upward even as the entire room waited for Minerva's response with a collectively held breath.
"It shall be done."
Hermione awoke to an insistent tapping on her forehead.
Sputtering slightly, she waved her hands defensively… her eyes squinting as she absorbed a burst of gold sunshine, rows of books…
Which meant… Damn.
Snapping upright, Hermione realized she had fallen asleep midway through reading a reference text on quantum mechanics. Muttering a number of curses under her breath, she blinked at the bright noon light streaming over the sofa and her spread of books and parchments.
Twisting slightly, she froze when she realized that a separate parchment was hanging in her field of vision, twitching slightly as it waited for her acknowledgement. Quickly she deduced that it had been the source of her rude awakening.
Hermione grasped it in confusion, her thoughts freezing for a moment as her eyes absorbed her name written on the front in an all-too-familiar hand. Despite herself, she felt her heart leap.
Why would she be writing?
She tore open the unfamiliar seal… pausing a moment at realizing it was Minerva's personal one - overlapping M's against the silhouette of a lion. She felt her lips curl into a soft smile.
However a moment later, her brief happiness dissolved as she read the letter's contents.
Hermione Granger,
I regret to interrupt your morning, however recent world events have brought to light new developments that I believe will evolve into a threat demanding of our time and attention. I have been presented with enough significant evidence to suggest that the Order of the Phoenix should be reinstated - heretofore advancing against the armies and influence of Lord Voldemort and now to counter a threat of perhaps even greater magnitude.
It is with great reluctance that I call you from your daily life and beseech you to render aid.
The first meeting of the Third Order of the Phoenix will convene tomorrow evening, Friday, November 19, 1999 at 19:00, local time.
This parchment will serve as a Portkey. Please ensure you have it upon your person should you agree to answer the summons.
Respectfully,
Minerva McGonagall
Hermione sat back, stunned… eyes traveling over the impersonal message without truly seeing it.
It was clearly a letter Minerva had sent out to all the others… Distantly, she wondered how the witch had charmed it to bypass the Kefalas warding.
Opening it again, Hermione read it a second time… brow furrowing as her lips mouthed the words, "threat of even greater magnitude." What does that mean?
She felt tendrils of fear snake across her skin, even as the warm sunlight continued to spill across her back from the beautiful day just beyond the tall Library windows. Surely she would have mentioned something last night…
Her heart stilled as she considered the possibility that perhaps Minerva had been thinking about reinstating the Order. But that something new had transpired to spur her into action. Good Godric… what has happened?
"Darling? Is everything alright?"
Hermione jumped, her wand already at the ready as Master Kallas suddenly appeared around the bookshelves, her dark brows drawn together in concern. The witch looked at her wandtip in surprise, her features momentarily betraying a bit of shock before they smoothed into a calm expression as she stepped forward a bit more slowly.
Hermione sat back against the sofa cushions with a huff, hastily stowing her wand even as she saw her master pass a careful glance over the letter in her hands. Bizarrely, her first urge was to hide it.
"I… don't know," she replied honestly, suddenly realizing that she was trembling. Master Kallas came closer, one hand already reaching for Hermione's shoulders as she made to sit next to her.
Unexpectedly, Hermione flinched away from the gentle touch and she felt her cheeks flush as she looked away in embarrassment. Why are you being so skittish?
Undeterred, the witch simply sat next to her, shifting a few books aside even as she made a clear effort not to touch Hermione.
"What is that?" Master Kallas asked after a moment, nodding toward the letter.
Hermione passed it over, watching carefully as her master's eyes took in the familiar script and opened it. The porcelain features betrayed no emotion as the light eyes read.
"I see."
"That's it?" Hermione blurted. She sees? There's a threat out there that might be bigger than Voldemort and she sees?
Master Kallas looked up, her light gaze open and searching.
"What is your intention?" the witch asked neutrally. Strangely, the question made her feel worse. Irritated, even. Hermione sat back and crossed her arms defensively.
"I… don't know. I'm still trying to process it. I assume she sent it to everyone else back home… I'd imagine they might know more, but maybe not," Hermione answered, thinking out loud. You didn't answer.
Looking back at her master, she saw the witch was sitting somewhat stiffly. Piercing seafoam eyes remained blank. Waiting.
"What do you want me to say?" Hermione asked. Master Kallas' eyes narrowed slightly, but she remained unmoved.
"This is your decision, Hermione," the musical voice replied neutrally. Again, Hermione felt an irrational flare of irritation.
"What kind of answer is that?" she demanded, knowing that her features were already settling into a glare. Master Kallas' gaze faltered for a moment and her full lips twisted slightly.
"What would you like me to say, Hermione?" she asked quietly.
At that, Hermione felt her eyes fill with tears and suddenly the hot burst of anger and irritation abruptly dissolved.
Her legs, which had been crossed on the sofa, uncrossed themselves of their own accord and Hermione found herself leaning forward until she could rest her forehead on her mentor's narrow shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she felt her eyes swim even as she gazed down into ivory silk… exhaling and biting back, surprisingly, a sob.
"I don't know," she whispered.
A moment later, a gentle hand rose to stroke the back of her neck soothingly and the offending letter was shifted out of her sight line.
"As I said, darling. This is your decision," Master Kallas whispered. Light seafoam eyes looked into hers imploringly, but behind the calm façade, Hermione thought she saw a glimmer of fear.
The witch sighed and shifted slightly, allowing Hermione to rest more of her body against her own.
"What are your first impressions of the situation?" Master Kallas asked. Hermione closed her eyes briefly and willed her emotions back into place… turning into their shared bond and drawing from her master's ineffable calm.
"That… Minerva would not have sent the summons if she did not believe it were true. To which, I know the majority… if not all of my friends at home will respond. If I don't go, I… I don't think I could not go," she said, thinking out loud. The hand that had been stroking her arm gently paused for a moment before resuming.
"What else?"
Hermione sighed. This is turning into a lesson, isn't it?
"I know that I don't feel ready," she said, sitting up slightly and turning to look at her Master more directly. "But, no one is ever ready for war. And that I know I am already far more prepared than I was last time…"
Master Kallas' expression remained inscrutable and somewhere deep inside, Hermione realized that she was afraid of the witch's reaction. A moment later however, she felt her hopes leap when full lips quirked into the ghost of a smile and the witch beside her took a deep breath.
"Then it seems we have a decision," she said softly. Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. We?
"As your Master, I am charged with your protection, Hermione. We are bound. Whatever threatens you directly also threatens me," Master Kallas explained gently and Hermione felt a spiraling sensation in the pit of her stomach. Merlin, you didn't even consider that… You didn't even think about her, did you? Oh Sweet Salazar...
Before she could open her mouth to apologize, the witch placed a reassuring hand over hers.
"I would never think to interfere with your decision on this point, Hermione. However, I was tasked with your protection and I will uphold my end of that contract to the best of my ability," Master Kallas said.
Hermione dropped her gaze for a moment, suddenly realizing the complicated position she had placed her master in... but a moment later, Master Kallas was leaning forward, undoubtedly responding to the unspoken question swimming in her eyes.
"While I realize that sounds rather clinical and business-like, I am simply stating it so that we are in agreement about the parameters of our Mastery contract. However, I assure you, darling... that even if we were not bound, that statement would still ring true."
Dark fingers tilted her chin upwards and Hermione found herself caught in a brilliantly clear seafoam gaze.
"I care for you Hermione, and your continued safety and protection is of great importance to me. While it is entirely your decision, you do not have to endure it alone."
Hermione took a deep breath and again found herself willing unshed tears to remain in place.
"Master Kallas… I… I'm sorry," she breathed. Shaking her head, she felt her lower lip tremble. "I did not… think to consider the position I would be placing you in by accepting the summons. I… appreciate your words greatly."
Master Kallas smiled gently and gave her a single nod, but Hermione realized that the witch still held an aura of tension. Her master rubbed her arm lightly and made to rise, but Hermione placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"You are still upset," she stated wonderingly. A dark eyebrow lifted in her direction and full lips thinned slightly. After a moment, Master Kallas let out a slow exhale and resettled.
"Forgive me, darling. The situation has caught me off-guard. Let me be clear in stating that I am not upset with you in any way for wanting to accept, nor will I be upset should you accept," she said, lips twisting slightly. Hermione waited, somewhat surprised that the witch was providing her with an answer at all.
Master Kallas shifted again, dark fingers smoothing the ivory silk over her legs carefully. At once, Hermione realized it was a gesture of insecurity.
"In most circles, it is understood that as your Master, I am the gateway to your correspondence. That is not to say that I am here to monitor your mail or messages, but it is a gesture of respect that acknowledges our shared schedule and the deep nature of the work we are engaging in at this time. To… go around that presents difficulty, as you are now realizing. A request of this magnitude should have been sent to me so that we could have examined the options with a bit more synchronicity."
There was just a little bit of reproach in her master's voice and Hermione found herself thinking back through Yiayia's tried and true methods of analyzing others. Surprised, she peered at the woman next to her and tried to absorb the gentle microexpressions passing across her beautiful features.
"So what you're telling me is that you're upset with Minerva," Hermione said gently. Her master's deceptively calm expression provided the answer and Hermione sat back, chewing on her lower lip.
"Well... I think you have every right to be," she replied thoughtfully.
Especially considering our conversation last night… I am surprised Minerva didn't think to at least mention the possibility of re-instituting the Order. And considering Master Kallas' own history… that seems a rather large overstep on her part to go directly to me.
Distantly, Hermione wondered how she would have responded to the summons had it come through Master Kallas first… probably a lot better than just now...
A soft chuckle cut through her thoughts and Hermione was surprised when her master fell back against the sofa inelegantly and wiped a heavy hand across her face, letting loose a long sigh that held the barest hint of frustration. Hermione remained sitting up, unsure of what to make of the witch's sudden departure from propriety.
"Oh darling… let it be stated clearly... that you are ever so unpredictable… and that, my darling girl... is an utter delight!"
Master Kallas punctuated her words by tapping a gentle finger on Hermione's arm and by the end, she found herself smiling broadly in response, reveling in the swell of emotion that suddenly grew between them. Hermione tentatively leaned back until she was as equally slouched as the witch next to her, their ivory robes overlapping in a messy symphony as her master continued to chuckle lightly.
They remained like that for a long while, Hermione giggling softly in disbelief as her master threw a shapely leg over one arm of the sofa even as they nestled closer together so that their sides were flush. One dark cocoa hand continued to stroke her arm gently and Hermione found herself relaxing, lulled into a peaceful haze as the concerns of world faded into the background.
Minerva's letter fell to one side, forgotten... as reassuring sunshine streamed through clear windows, bathing them in a warm embrace that quickly made Hermione's eyes feel heavy.
Realizing that she was getting sleepy, Hermione tilted her head to the right to see her master's eyes fluttering closed... her mane of curls framing her face like a dark halo.
Absently, she noted how the witch's open and relaxed expression was entirely captivating and beautiful. Her breath caught, and she felt her lips curl into a soft smile.
"Master?" Hermione whispered.
"Mmm?"
"Thank you."
Tomorrow would come soon enough.