The two scrolls lay benignly on the table. She couldn't see them because her eyes were closed but she knew they were sitting there. An apprentice scroll. She had been offered seven, before this. None of them had tempted her very much. They were binding and could be harsh, depending on the Master. Hermione had been unwilling to give another person so much control over her. It became clear quickly that there would be some prestige, wherever she decided to work or study. Recently there had been so much speculation about what she would do, that the offers had begun to come in from outside of the country.
She had received some good ones. The Magical Congress of the USA had offered her the choice of three charms masters and what amounted to a paid scholarship. All sorts of perks like lectures and access to learning institutions and private libraries. Several curse breaking options from goblins and humans had come. If she was looking to get rich quick or needed the money, that would have been her choice. The European Library executive had written her a combined letter offering her an apprenticeship with lifetime employment and even stipulations for project allowances. For moments here and there she had built a dream around them. Trying to see herself there and happy. It was easy, she could be happy doing other things.
This though, was something that had only been a dream. Never something she accepted as a possible reality. It was for good reason she could only find two other warding masters that took apprentices. It was rare and dangerous. Only the best survived, many burnt up in some way or another. Physically or magically, trying to do something and failing. Too much magic and an error meant heat or whatever you could turn it into. Enough of anything could kill you. The question wasn't did she want it. Overwhelmingly the answer was positive. It was working with him. Among other things. Things that she should think about.
Opening her eyes she was a bit surprised to find three sets of eyes all on her. That strange purple of Yaxley's, Dolohov's near black, and Rowle's bright blue. She reached for the standard scroll and scanned it. The payment was more than the average apprentice but she didn't care. For the right apprenticeship she would have lived as she had on the run, and much more happily. Five years maximum. No minimum, that looked different. Usually there was a minimum of time the apprentice had to serve the master in payment for their education. Nothing was listed except a minimum twenty hours a week. It was quite bare in details or even guidelines. A bit absently, she wondered if it was because this would be filed or because unlike more common fields of study, there weren't as many hard and fast methods or markers of success. Usually some time limit for completing each section of study was listed and terms that meant dissolution of the contract. None of that.
Then she reached for the second one. The private one.
The completion terms were fine with her. He was the only one who could tell her when she had achieved a level of mastery concurrent with the title. Dolohov never stopped learning or stretching the application of skills. Excepting the first stint in Azkaban of course. Though she wouldn't be surprised if his relative sanity was because he used his mind analytically. Math wasn't an emotion and couldn't be sucked out by dementors. One assessment, and that would have to be tonight or tomorrow. She didn't doubt that he wouldn't indicate she was meeting milestones, so she would just have to keep going until he called the probably abrupt halt when she had done enough. It would be hard. Only getting the kind of 'encouragement' she had up to this point. Continuing through the contract and doing her best to think things out. Trying to imagine how the contract would affect her day to day interactions.
Assessment, Yaxley, Access. Those were the things that came to mind to ask about regarding the contract. He might restrict her use of magic for others, that could be a sore point between them. Another one. That was another thing. If he wouldn't speak to her or let her speak how could she explain ideas or formulate them further. Trying to assemble her thoughts didn't help her decide how to speak them aloud.
One quick glance at Dolohov showed the same hard face and dark watchful eyes. He didn't look at all excited by the prospect of having an apprentice.
Rowle looked a bit pensive, like he too was trying to think through what could happen. That was a bit surprising, that he cared enough to expend so much concentration on it. Yaxley though, his eyes were watchful as ever. His dark friend was more hawk like in appearance but in personality he was more like a bear. Rueban Yaxley was a hawk, maybe even a crow. Dead clever and quick, the pair of them were a foe she would prefer not to have. Why was he here? How could she be his apprentice if they couldn't even speak about this.
Something must have shown on her face, Yaxley gave her a nod indicating she speak. When she opened her mouth nothing came out. She swallowed and ignored how stupid she felt. Trying again, this time she got sound.
"I have questions of course but this first. It is all moot if neither of us can speak to the other." Keeping her chin up and not hunching, he hated when she withered in his presence. Waiting, she watched fascinated as the two older men shared much in about twenty seconds of eye contact. Dolohov nodded, she thought it was his 'if you must' nod. If she must speak, or if she must ask a question, if she must argue. A grudging acquiescence.
"We will speak Malyshka. Boltovnya with others." Hermione had no problems saving her 'chatter' for others. He would speak to her. Let her ask questions.
"I can ask questions?" A raised eyebrow. "Zabotlivaya." She added. Thoughtful ones. Ones she had tried to reason out herself. A nod.
"What about advice for things I want to try or ideas?" A small furrow and then a change in his eyes. What it meant she didn't know but Yaxley straightened a bit.
"Dopolneniya." He often referred to increase in complexities or steps to a problem, additions. It seemed a broad word, more of a concept than a specific thing or change. This time it was a slight head tilt. Curiosity and less reluctant agreement. Maybe he hadn't thought she had other ideas. Did he think she just did what was required and never wondered or tried other things. She tried not to really, that's where a lot of the danger was. It wouldn't be so bad if there were others around who knew enough to act in an emergency.
"Alright. Why are these two here? Usually this doesn't have an audience." She would admit that this was mostly curiosity, a chance to ask questions was not to be wasted. A quick exchange of glances and it was Yaxley who responded.
"He was with you. I think, unless circumstances change, that I will be somewhat of a fixture in your time together." She thought that through. In no way was she opposed to his presence. Of course Hermione didn't know him well but she liked what she did know. When he wasn't trying to capture them, anyways. Loyalty was something she admired and responded to. Someone who could give it and hold it was worth knowing. He was also quick and had his own range of skills and knowledge. It did mean secrets though. Something she would have to figure a roundabout way around Harry.
That wasn't appealing. It was however doable, they could work something out. She wasn't a fan of the vow, what if she needed Harry's help with him at some point. Having the Head Auror in the know was always handy. It was often easier in the long run to use the system to your advantage. Perhaps this man had taught her that, in a convoluted way. She couldn't help a small smile at that. She thought he would approve. There was curiosity on his face, he was letting her see it. No doubt about what had prompted the smile. Gathering her thoughts, she ploughed on. Always conscious of the fact that he would be impatient with this, as with most other things.
"The assessment. Will you tell me where I stand now, in comparison to where I began and whatever completion looks like?" Again it probably wouldn't make a difference but if she could secure some kind of information she could use that would be helpful. It would be just like him to explain in a way she had no context for. It would be easier to manage her expectations too.
Yaxley chuckled quietly and Rowle looked thoughtful. The dark eyes just did that piercing thing and she tried not to lift her chin further in response. It was already appropriate and she needn't give further evidence of her uncertainty. Bravado it was, but she didn't need to advertise the depressing fact. A nod. Hermione could hardly believe it and the look Yaxley gave him said something worthy of a grunt from his friend. Maybe she would eventually be able to read something, anything. That would be a side project though.
"Why total Access?" This made her a bit uncomfortable but she wanted to be able to succeed and be prepared. The man definitely wouldn't want her underfoot all the time so it wasn't to keep her here, or wherever, for unnecessary redundant tasks.
There was a shift. Antonin Dolohov just shifted in his seat. Right before her very eyes. His face hadn't changed but still, it was disconcerting. He was so hard and unyielding that even a slight movement seemed profound. He met Yaxley's eyes and seemed to be left on his own. Rowle had a lesser version of her feelings on his face. Then speculation and their gazes met.
"Priority." A single word. She thought that over for a minute.
"This takes priority. I have friends, no actual family but people. I can't." Her eyes were down, immediately a sick feeling began welling.
"Net." She looked up and was sure from the look on the other two men's faces that all of her current emotions were clear on her face. She took a long blink and met his eyes. Trying to smooth her face and her feelings. Calm down, she coached herself silently.
"Otvlekayushchiye." Distractions or deviations maybe. She let her uncertainty show. At his frown she spoke the two interpretations uncertainly. He nodded. Then she had a thought.
"Like curse breaking or potions." No movement but she was right. That was unusual. Usually only yes or no questions got answers. Unless it was something that needed to be said about whatever magic they needed to actually speak about.
"Or Narcissa Malfoy's charity function next month." Rowle's voice was dry and she shot him a small smile. No loss for that one. Maybe even an excuse to just attend. She didn't see a way to get out of it. The glance Dolohov shot him was not murderous but it was rebuking. Obviously he had disobeyed in some way. Unfortunately it seemed to affect the large wizard less than it did her. Only once or twice had she gotten such a harsh look.
"Okay then." She looked around. Having expected some reaction, received none she resisted rolling her eyes. Holding her hand over the simple black leather tote bag, she summoned a quill, her favourite oversized hoodie, and a granola bar. They seemed to have come to life in the time it took to pull the Tornados hoodie over her head. Eyes blinked and Rowle shifted.
"It's Harry's. I won it." She didn't let very much of the triumph she felt at that memory shine through. Before she could summon the ink she had forgotten, a bottle floated to the table. It was clear, mostly. Kind of a cloudy white when she focused on it.
Suddenly she looked up at Dolohov and then Yaxley. Her heart pounded a little bit faster. It had calmed as she had, during the conversation. The hard eyes didn't say much but Yaxley let the slightly mad light show in his eyes. It was Magical Ink. Or it had the potential to be. She had never seen it before. They would tie their magics to it and sign. It would actually be their magic they signed with and not the seemingly innocuous white liquid. Hermione didn't know how to feel about this. What if she let him down. It wasn't just her. This was something he would be doing too. Giving up his freedom in a way. Gripping her courage tight, she forced the words out.
"If you don't want to do this. I'll let it go. I've just really thought about what you are giving up. You just got out of prison, all of you. Well you know what I mean Yaxley. This isn't something I want in return for anything. Lucius thought that. Still does I think." She forced herself to scan them and then focus on Dolohov.
"I didn't get you out so that you would do this. Yes I hoped you would. I didn't think you would though. Don't do this if you don't want to." There she had said it. For what felt like forever she held his eye contact before she just couldn't. If it wasn't for her usual determination not to cry in front of this man, she was sure she would have shed at least a cup of tears in a short while.
She glanced at Rowle when he shifted in his seat and handed him his coat back. Mentally she prepared herself to leave. Again. She was two for two at attempting to exit without breaking down with an audience. This one anyway.
"If you are ready then Hermione." Yaxley's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She glanced down and saw the quill in the dark russian's hand. Then she realised he had used her name. Her hand wasn't shaking when she picked up the quill and her wand. For the first time she noticed he was using his wand. The one she had last seen before sealing it into an intricately carved wooden box. He saw her notice and maybe it was his version of an eye roll or maybe it was a shrug. Kind of like a slight tic under his left eye.
With intense interest she watched his mouth form the words for the magic, there weren't many. While his wand made few but important movements. Then she let her magic feel what was happening, as best she could. Realizing as she did, that she was watching him do magic, for magics own sake, for the first time. This was the man from the journal and the paper. Her eyes flicked to his quickly, and she was surprised to see him watching her instead of the magic he was connecting to the quill via the liquid on it. There was a slight twist of his wand and then she closed her eyes to see better.
It wasn't her vision she was using, that was mostly her brain showing her what her magic could see. There was the connection, and she could see him exerting pressure with his magic so that it moved down the tiny connection between it and the inanimate object. Hermione opened her eyes just in time to catch the visible white ink write his last name on the parchment of their private contract. The look on his face said do it and she nodded in response, gripping quill and wand. It was like the first task on a long quest, she thought whimsically, so she was smiling slightly as she bit her bottom lip and attempted to mimic his previous actions.