A/N: I hope all of you had a lovely holiday. Thanks for continuing to read! :)
Before Hermione could even brush the ash off her from the long floo journey, Alex scurried up to her from the center of the large room and began enthusiastically shaking her hand. He was an older man about her height. Despite his age, his black hair was only slightly dotted by gray. "Hermione, I am so glad you have come to consult with me on your translation difficulties."
The Headmistress, sitting in a chair across the room with her mouth forming a tight line, was significantly less welcoming. Other than a quick "hello," she dived right in to rules detailing the how the contract terms would be observed; apparently limiting conversation with students meant that Hermione wouldn't be able to see them, except perhaps on accident. She was to report to Alex's office first thing in the morning and take breakfast and dinner in her own room. And a house elf was going to escort her everywhere to make sure she didn't stray from that short path.
Hermione opened her mouth to argue but was immediately cut off as the Headmistress and Alex left the room—the latter more apologetically—and left her with the elf.
"I'm Hermione," she ventured.
"Miss will follow me, please," responded the elf curtly, watching her as they walked in a way that reminded her of how Kreacher treated the Order: like an intruder.
The next morning, the same elf knocked on her door with breakfast. It seemed like she had just closed her eyes, but she didn't even feel she could mention her exhaustion in case it made Alex nervous about her knowledge of the time zone. Hermione tried to ascertain the name of the elf, but the elf was all business and perfectly comfortable ignoring her.
Hermione arrived at Alex's office a bit worse for wear, but managed to remain somewhat perky with the aid of three and a half cups of coffee. The other half Hermione intentionally dropped to distract the house elf as they passed a row of photos that she wanted to scan for Demetri, but it was just old Quidditch team photos and he wasn't in them, or she couldn't locate him. She would have felt worse for creating more work for the house elf if he weren't so rude.
There were no students on the way to Alex's office despite the fact that there was daylight filtering in through the darkly painted stained glass windows. Hermione assumed that was intentional. Their paranoia was almost admirable in its effectiveness, but it was mostly irritating.
Hermione greeted Alex cheerfully and worked with him for a few hours before making casual conversation. She brought up her brief relationship with Krum and, when she saw Alex's warm smile remembering him, she knew it was the right decision. They talked lightly about his success in Quidditch and when the conservation was dying down, Hermione made her move.
"Actually," Hermione said, glancing far off in the distance to make it look as though she was just casually thinking of this now. "There might be another friend of mine who you would know. Demetri Vole?"
"Oh yes, of course!" Alex's eyes lit up with recognition and Hermione's heart went straight to her stomach and her mind began to race, but could he have planted this recognition? Still, just because she had been right about Demetri being up to something didn't mean he didn't really go to Durmstrang. And this trip isn't wasted, Hermione reassured herself as her plan began to feel a bit silly, you can still find out more about him.
"What was he like back then—I mean when he was a student?" Hermione asked, trying to seem nonchalant but aware that she was failing.
Alex thought about that for a moment. "He was quiet and incredibly committed to his studies, even considering that he was the top student that year."
"That year?" Hermione questioned, finding the phrasing odd. "You mean his last year here?"
Alex made eye contact with Hermione again as he seemed to return from his memories. "I didn't know you didn't know," he mumbled uncomfortably.
Hermione bit her lip as she tried to ascertain the best course of action as quickly as possible. So far, Alex's only interests seemed to be Ancient Runes and her ex-boyfriend, and Hermione couldn't think of a way to tie her curiosity surrounding Demetri with either subject. Unlike Cormac, he wasn't creepy and trying to use anything in the realm of sex would only embarrass them both.
"Can I trust you to keep a secret?" Hermione asked tentatively, deciding to push the matter further, even though it was incredibly risky given Durmstrang's obsession with privacy. "One Runes enthusiast to another?" She added, not very subtly trying to remind him why he liked her company.
"I know I'm being nosy and that's not a trait that's appreciated here," she continued when Alex remained quiet. "It's just that Demetri is a good friend of mine, and I know he wouldn't want anyone to know this, and that's why I've asked you to keep it between us, but he's having a really hard time adjusting to living abroad. And it hurts me to see him struggling so much, and he's such a private person that I thought maybe…" Hermione trailed off, shrugging and shaking her head. She considered trying to make herself tear up, but decided it would be a bit too much.
"Demetri is lucky to have such a good friend," Alex replied, patting Hermione awkwardly on the shoulder. "What I was referring to earlier was that Demetri was only here for one year—his final year." Hermione pressed her fingernail into her palm behind her back to channel the tension building in her as Alex continued; her mind was already racing as she thought of what this might mean. "He was an only child and lost his father when he was very young. His mother homeschooled him and passed away shortly before his last year of schooling, so he completed it here."
Hermione nodded mutely before finding her voice and managing a sad smile. "Thank you for sharing that with me, Alex. I can assure you it will remain between us, but it does help me understand where Demetri is coming from."
By Thursday, Hermione had made a significant amount of progress on her Runes project—enough that it seemed legitimately worth it to take the trip after all. And even though she couldn't find any photos of Demetri or question anyone other than Alex, she had found some valuable information about Demetri, so she couldn't fault herself for the impulsive travel. What she could fault herself for was the fact that she missed him, so much so that she kept catching someone out of the corner of her eye that looked vaguely like him and turning around hopefully, and that she was finding it harder each night to be angry with him for swapping her sweatshirt without his permission.
Just as she was thinking this, a familiar bird tapped at her window.
Dearest Hermione,
Her throat caught at "dearest." That was new.
I haven't heard from you since your sudden departure. Please let me know when you are planning to return so that we may plan to see one another. I miss you.
Forever yours,
Demetri
Hermione sighed, tracing over the last three words of the letter. It was more of the new, vulnerable side of Demetri, and she wondered if her demand that he show her more of himself—his eyes, for a start—was something that came from her, or whether it was exactly what he wanted. Because she had never felt so close to him and so hungry for more. And that was perhaps exactly what he had intended.
But whether she was the cat or the mouse, she missed him, too. And just like he had, maybe, she intentionally gave him more of her by telling him so.
Dear Demetri,
I'll be back Friday, but in the middle of the night. Why don't we meet Saturday morning at my apartment? I miss you, too.
Yours,
Hermione
She stared at the letter for a moment, glancing between it and Demetri's oddly patient bird. "Was Demetri really home schooled?" She asked aloud to the bird, and the bird continued to stare blankly at her. Somehow she doubted the answer was yes, but it seemed at least that he had spent one year at Durmstrang; certainly he could have altered Alex's memory, but why would he alter it with such a strange story? It was unlikely.
Hermione thought back to the Durmstrang sweater and the strange timing of it—what if he had known she was coming here to consult with Alex and decided to allow her to find out what she would? What if he were letting her get close and allowing her to think it was all her idea? Hermione swallowed nervously, unsure what it all meant and moreover, if it mattered. She knew she would continue on this course whether it were truly her own or not.