Things were awkward between them after Ostara. At least, Hermione felt they were. Gellert seemed to alternate between determinedly aloof and overly gallant. He'd escort her to classes and meals, help her in lessons and come with her to groom Katana. Then some days he wouldn't even talk to her, glaring at her lowly beneath his brows and refusing to talk to her during lunch. Unfortunately the others in their group seemed to take their cues from him, so she was forced to exercise her own powers as 'hostess' and gracefully sit with her own age group.
Neele was the girl that Berg had gifted his tulip to for Ostara. She was pale in appearance - white blonde hair, porcelain skin and silver-blue eyes. The first impression of her was that she would be frail, but she was wire strong and fast as a whip with a humour to match. She was the daughter of a new blood - the term used to refer to Muggleborns - who had managed to secure herself an invitation to the coven. An unrepentant dark witch, Neele's mother specialised in the creation of new counter curses and blood magic.
Neele however had yet to grow into her power, her magic had yet to manifest despite the hours of meditations her mother put her through. She hadn't ever had a tutor, nor was she quite used to the rigid upbringing of the old families that made up the majority of the rest of the coven's children. It was a point of familiarity between them, as was Neele's surprise that the rest of the children were already making their matches for marriage. Unfortunately, that was rather spoiled by the awe Neele held for Hermione's magical abilities and all intelligent conversation was lost in favour of requests to perform spells.
Yannik was the only other coven child her age, and he was as drab as it was possible to be. His magic had certainly manifested and although he was as powerful as any other child in their group, he lacked any kind of inventiveness. He stuck rigidly to the lists of spells he'd been given by his incredibly strict tutor. Apparently they were specifically selected to exercise his magic in certain ways and were to be performed every day, in order, no exceptions, no additions. He guarded the list jealously, not willing to let slip something that he believed would make him stronger than everyone else. Hermione had spied on him in the library and discovered the exact list - five charms, a pinhead into a button and a stinging hex. She was about as impressed with his spells as he was with her unstructured and aimless practice. That is to say, not much.
Without Gellert's constant support, her schedule began to feel more and more ridiculous. She couldn't even remember what it felt like to sleep and she was beginning to wish for a couple of hours of blankness. She hadn't read a book for pleasure for days, the second Redwall book had come out months ago and she still hadn't even seen the cover, despite members of her shallow circle having already read it (disapproving her theory that most of them were, in fact, illiterate.)
She had considered staying up late one night to see if she could miss a day at Grindelwald Castle but she did have obligations to attend to that were bigger than her or Gellert's childishness. Not to mention the lessons really were fascinating. Wizards had a long memory and could recall with great accuracy every event in their turbulent, bloody history. Clashes with muggles every couple of decades, dark wizards, magical creature rampages and meddling in the affairs and politics of muggles; there was plenty to learn in their history classes. The teacher was also very good - he had carefully preserved memories of important events, artefacts, talking paintings of historical figures... She spoke with Svard the Sorcerer, who had accompanied the vikings on their first raid of Lindisfarne and watched Ferdinand the Flighty's memories of the french invasion of the UK.
Transfiguration remained difficult - she could focus on several factors at once, but still occasionally forgot details. Her decoration was often off, or if she focused too heavily on that, the shape or materials were wrong. It was something everyone assured her would come with age and experience, but she still found it frustrating. Charms was tricky, particularly when used on living things, but her charms on inanimate objects were usually excellent.
Potions was fascinating but that was the time slot Lady Grindelwald had chosen to coach Hermione in Occlumency. Her hours with the tall, imposing witch were the hardest yet most fulfilling of the whole week. She was demanding and held expectations higher than anyone else but she was also fascinating. The witch was younger than her silvery hair suggested, but aged by life. She was usually dressed in her battle robes, which Hermione couldn't help but admire, with their intricate spell weave and striking look. The elder witch once even let Hermione admire the fabric, smoothing it between her fingers and examining the protective enchantments.
Hermione had a rough grasp on Occlumency, understanding the basic principals, but was too young to really form the impenetrable barrier that would be necessary to withstand a direct assault. Instead, the Lady was teaching her to redirect the attention with an assault of her own. This kind of tactic was unexpected and almost certain to throw off most legilimens, not to mention it might tell her something useful about the attacker in the meantime. If she gained entry, she then just had to rifle through thoughts so fast that most people would struggle to collect themselves to force her out.
She practiced on a shade - "an animated construct under the direct control of the caster," according to Beings and Non-Beings by Mir Age. This one was enchanted with enough accuracy to have a false, false memories projected behind illusionary walls and could channel magic cast by the Lady Grindelwald. It was terribly advance magic and there was books dedicated to creating even the simplest shade, all of them referencing other techniques well beyond her ability. She understood enough to know it was sorcery, the most powerful and complex form of magic.
Either way, the shade could have carefully limited abilities, so Hermione was able to break through the barriers of it's mind and begin flipping through the memories there, trying to move fast enough to be baffling to the attacker whilst Lady Grindelwald observed.
The memories were designed to be interesting, she was sure. One showed the witch riding a mighty silver dragon, another showed a complex lesson on ritual building that she could hardly tear herself away from. She managed to flick at appropriate speed through a series of rituals, visits to shops, hesitated at a Granian foal, passed through childhoos Gellert, propelled even faster thorough a gory battle scene and then saw something interesting. A man sat in a tall armchair by the fire, a little blond baby nestled in his arms. His features were unmistakable in the flickering firelight. Strong, bold jaws, prominent nose. Lady Grindelwald's mother had softened the crow-like appearance in her son, bringing a fullness to the chin and forehead that the man in the chair didn't have. Remembering what she was meant to be doing, she tore herself away from the memory and onto the next one, but evidently Lady Grindelwald had found her weakness. Even the knowledge that she was likely failing couldn't turn her away from this memory. Lady Grindelwald, hair a cascade of golden blonde down her back, stood across the hall from the man. He was older, though not by much, and he held a dark look in his eyes that spelled evil to Hermione. They were shouting, screaming at lines being drawn and what was necessary before Lady Grindelwald, tears streaming down pristine, porcelain cheeks, blasted him through the massive castle doors.
The memory closed down and Hermione found herself blinking up at the woman who was her teacher and patron.
'Curiosity is a powerful thing.' Lady Grindelwald said. Her voice was impassive and Hermione desperately searched for whether she was in trouble for so blatantly failing at her task. 'If you manage to succeed on your next attempt, I will tell you my husband's story.'
Hermione jumped to attention, desperate to prove herself and win this reward. Gellert never spoke of his father, infact, nobody did. There were no paintings or belongings, the man might as well have never existed.
The next attempt was better. She was so determined to hear the story that nothing could distract her from her goal. She breached the shade's mind faster than ever, plunging into the memories and flicking through them at blinking pace. She knew without a doubt that she had been successful when she found herself back in the drawing room, blinking fiercely to clear her spinning head of the multitude of images.
'Well done. Next time, see if you can recreate that without the incentive. However... as promised.' Hermione was gestured to the stool near the fire and a moment later a cup of cocoa was sent by the elves, a glass of dark liquid appearing at Lady Grindelwald's left hand at the same time.
'I met Frederich at Durmstrang, he was from a magical family, but not an old one. He was powerful, more than myself. As far as both our parents were concerned, and us too, it was the perfect match. He gained the Grindelwald name, we gained his power for our family. I should have known better from the start. He was too eager for the name and had next to no respect for the old ways. He was arrogant, viewed everything as below him, and considered even magic to be his servant. He never learned that magic is a force much stronger than those who wield it, he didn't understand that magic could harm him or control him, he delved too deep without the proper precautions.'
'Practicing dark magic is a tricky balance. One must practice it sparingly, each time you use it it had permanent effects. Sometimes it effects the appearance, other times the soul, and almost always your mind. It requires a strength of will, for it is undoubtedly powerful and addictive. Gellert's father didn't heed the warnings, he never understood that magic would harm him if he abused it. It drove him to madness, as it does many dark wizards and witches.'
Perhaps it was Hermione's imagination but the room seemed darker, the fire casting deeper shadows. A chill seemed to creep down to her bones.
'We argued and the castle sided with me, he was banished. I was unsurprised when months later the coven was called to hunt down a dark wizard who was using a modified elf bond to force wizards to do his bidding. It was a dark time, you never knew who he'd gotten to and I opened that castle to the people. They came, and we were here for six months before we finally managed to bring him down. Three hundred witches and wizards were trapped, unable to use their magic until their bond was linked to a new 'master'. It took us months to find next of kin who we could bond them too.'
Hermione was horrified, but suddenly understood so many things. Lady Grindelwald was such a strong woman, Hermione didn't think she could ever have lead the defence of the country against a dark wizard. For a moment, she tried to imagine Gellert in the place of that dark wizard, but the image was to contrary; Gellert was kind and generous with a deep respect for life and magic, an unshakable loyalty to his friends and the people his family ruled over and served. She couldn't imagine anyone further from a dark wizard!