With Gellert gone and the matter of her education taking place at Hogwarts, her matriarch had taken it upon herself to round out what she considered to be the incomplete education the British school offered. Her previous lessons of dancing, broomstick flying, deportment and manners had all been brushed aside as unimportant and she was now beginning an intensive sword fighting course to prepare her to start duelling next summer. Every morning she spent two hours with Master Brig, learning to fight with a huge variety of swords and knives and bows and otherwise muggle weapons. She was then allowed half an hour to freshen up before she had to begin her study of ancient magic, supervised by an elf. She was usually assigned a book to read and had to summarise the key points to submit to Lady Grindelwald.
In the afternoons she took occlumency and ethics with Lady Grindelwald, both lessons usually melding into one as the older witch assaulted her mind mid way through complex discussions of what scenarios dark magic could be acceptable in.
She enjoyed her lessons, but she really missed Gellert and he'd only been at Durmstrang for a week. She hung onto his letters and sent veritable essays back in return. He'd described the castle to her - dark and squat with very few windows and no privacy. His lessons seemed a little dull and elementary, but he claimed the library was good and the grounds were wonderful. He described wild forests and mountain peaks with complex trails they could ride their mounts along. He said there was still snow in some places, despite it being nearly summer and that it was light until half past eleven!
She would have killed to visit him and see the castle, with its many students and fascinating teachers.
She would see him for Harvest though.
It had been the day after he left that she'd been called to Lady Grindelwald's study and informed that she would be Sun for the harvest ritual this year. Her matriarch had been delighted, suggesting that Hermione was perhaps the youngest channel ever, at the tender age of ten. Hermione had been terrified.
Then, Anneken had swept in like an angel. The older witch had graduated now, and she turned up in a set of bottle green robes to match the impressive emerald adorned athame sheathed at her side. Hermione grinned and congratulated her - she knew from her etiquette lessons that a woman carrying a sheath with an athame in it meant she was formally engaged.
Anneken had taken one look at the dress Lady Grindelwald wanted made for Hermione and announced that that would not do. So Anneken took them to Paris to get a different one.
They all dressed in their best for the occasion and Hermione wore the lapis lazuli combs she'd been given to represent her family allegiance. It was the first real piece of jewellery that she'd ever owned and it was worthy of a queen. A silver cockatrice fought an exquisite dragon for the large polished stone at the centre of the piece. The two older witches had spent several minutes fussing and arranging her hair to show it off best.
There was a large blue and silver carriage waiting in the courtyard when they emerged, drawn by four of the huge black sleipnir. It had four lacquered wooden wheels and Hermione just knew it would be incredibly bumpy and uncomfortable. There couldn't be much space inside, and she almost dreaded taking the seat opposite Lady Grindelwald's wide skirts.
Except it had completely different dimensions inside to outside. She had to duck through the low doorway, then emerged into a luxurious living room, decorated in blue and silver to match the outside of the carriage. There were delicate settees and chaise, polished coffee tables and bookshelves lit by silver candelabra. There was a restroom through the door to the left complete with hot running water and a luxurious bath. When she remembered the other two women were already delicately seated and an elf was serving tea and cakes. She only realised they were moving when she saw the scenery whizzing past the window.
They travelled for several hours and the two women took it as an opportunity for Hermione to practice channeling their magic. She was very used to Gellert's magic, having worked with it and channelled it almost as much as her own, his was dark and familiar, cooling a white heat she didn't even know her magic had. Anneken's was smooth and sinuous, like a snake or water and Lady Grindelwald's was icy cold, colder than Gellert's; sharp and clear like ice. Anneken's was easy to control, willing to do as she bade. Lady Grindelwald's kept spiking out in odd directions and causing unexpected side effects, usually bangs and flashes.
They stopped in a gentle woodland in the late evening, taking a gentle stroll around the carriage to stretch their legs. The plan was to spend the night in the carriage, and Hermione had been sceptical at the image of Lady Grindelwald roughing it on the couch. Of course, she should have known that at two taps with a wand on the door would turn it into a double suite of rooms with four poster beds and a full size wardrobes; the spare clothes they had brought already unpacked.
When Hermione reappeared the next day, they had arrived in Paris. The carriage was stopped in a cobbled courtyard, a piece of scrolling metalwork above their heads announcing that they were at the "Hotel De Ginestou". There were two other carriages in the courtyard with them - one rather severe and black with small, barred windows and another decorated in crimson and gold flowers and carved lambs.
They went to a little Café for breakfast and ate soft, fluffy croissant and light, crisp french bread unlike anything she'd ever eaten in the past. There was a slightly runny jam packed with fruit and creamy fresh butter. Lady Grindelwald glowered at everything suspiciously - from the brown robed man reading the newspaper at the other table to the two wizards who were setting up their apothecary display across the street. She too had a copy of the paper, which had been delivered along with a formal looking card that morning, before Hermione arrived.
After breakfast, Anneken took them to "Maison Capenoir" which was only a couple of buildings down the street. Hermione was both amazed and delighted to find that the shop had little in common with both wizarding clothes shops that she'd visited in the Unterhalb. Maison Capenoir flashed with the rainbow light of hundreds of gems and beads, sewn into shining silk, glittering gold thread and airy lace. A small man with a midnight blue set of robes bowed them in and thanked them for their appointment. What they were looking for must already have been explained, because they were quickly taken into a more private back room where a rail of golden dresses awaited them. They were all roughly Hermione's size, and none of them were anything like what Lady Grindelwald had drawn up.
It took all of thirty seconds for the Grindelwald matriarch to toss more than half of the dresses aside, declaring them unsuitable, silly or obscene. Hermione had to admit that even she found some of the dresses more than a little silly - there were bows and ruffles, painful looking corsets and dripping jewels. Some dresses had enchantments to make them warmer or cooler, lighter or make them float in a particular way. Anneken seemed to find the whole occasion incredibly amusing, but even she slipped out when the attendant, looking more than a little offended, tried to advise the fearsome Lady on modern girl's fashion and was treated to a lengthy lecture on the presentation of women in rituals.
As the small man cowered beneath her fury, Hermione picked out a dress for herself. She had decided to go with something that would keep both women happy - all white, because she wouldn't bloom for several years, gold enough to make sure everyone knew that she was the sun, but not so flashy that it was ostentatious, simple and elegant but not revealing... the list of requirements was extensive. Fortunately she found one - it was mostly white, body hugging at the top and puffed out with petticoats around her skirts. The embroidery was exquisite, reaching up from the ankle height hems but finishing before it could become too extensive to be suitable for a child. She couldn't see how anyone could complain.
And nobody did. Anneken had a couple of robes for herself draped over her arm, Lady Grindelwald had frightened the attendant to tears and then the manager had arrived, apologising profusely for his staff's lack of respect for traditional magic and the the Matriarch was rather pleased with the beaded grey hat she'd been given as an apology.
Of course, a family of such standing as the Grindelwald's couldn't visit another country unnoticed. The card from breakfast turned out to be a formal invitation for dinner with the Delacour Family, whom Hermione had met at the Yule ball.
She had expected to see a chateau, perhaps something like the Disney castle or at least a large manor like the palace of Versailles. Instead, their carriage trotted down a long dirt driveway, splashing through deep puddles and bouncing over tree roots. They arrived at a farmhouse. It was medium sized, perhaps what one would expect of a successful farmer but certainly not one of the ruling French families. Their house was nestled between a paddock of remarkably normal looking horses and a field full of very hairy cattle. A generous barn hulked against the skyline like a giant rat, the winding dirt road that led to it like a great tail.
The walls of the house were freshly washed white, tarred black beams starkly outlining the small windows. Irregular glass panes twinkled with the light of the setting sun and the windows were open, allowing music to drift out.
The inside was dark, with heavy looking wood panels that seemed to suck all the light from the candles before it could reach the flagstone floor. Lady Delacour greeted them, adorned in a baby blue silk dress with a bulbous skirt that had to be squeezed to fit through the narrow doorway she led them through.
The drawing room they were led into was large... unusually large for such a modest building. It stretched out, long and low towards a hearty fire. Lamps and candles lit the intermediary space and lit carved wooden chairs grouped into huddles around knee high tables. The small windows were pinpricks against the light absorbing panelled wall and the other wall was thickly lined with books on a floor to ceiling bookshelf.
There were nine people already waiting, which suggested that they were the last to arrive. She recognised Monsieur Delacour in his sharp suit and coiled moustache. His son was virtually a mirror image, and he had an ethereal woman on his arm; dressed in silver, which matched her silver waterfall of hair, she glowed with inhuman beauty.
The eyes of two young men seemed glued to her, much to the annoyance of the women at their arms. Both were strapping, also dressed in black dinner jackets, one was shorter than the woman on her elbow, although if she had any sense she wouldn't have worn such towering heels. The final guest was probably their grandmother, if the age and family resemblance was anything to go by.
They were introduced; the three younger men were Delacours; William, who was the one with the silver haired woman, had just come back from Bulgaria. Samuel and Frederick were Monsieur Delacour's nephews and were visiting for summer. They would be returning for their last year of Beauxbatons in a matter of days. Eloise was the grandmother, and she was a grouchy woman who vocally disapproved of Gabriella, the Veela woman that William had brought home with him.
Dinner was announced, and Monsieur Delacour led Lady Grindelwald to the table on his arm. His son took Madame Delacour and the others took their own spouses, eventually the four remaining women, including Hermione, followed in behind them.
The dining room was also much larger than one would expect in a farmhouse. A large chandelier lit a long table with a crisp white table cloth. Rosy pink cards were the only touch of warmth against the cold silver of the plates and cutlery. Hermione found her own name, printed in beautiful script that rippled slightly over the embossed Delacour crest.
Dinner was unbelievable - they started with a bowl of soup, followed by oysters and little fish on crispy discs of bread, then there was clams and mussels in a rich butter sauce, glazed figs wrapped in wafer thin cured meat, olives and little squares of white cheese on sticks. There was a long break, where Lady Grindelwald and Monsieur Delacour discussed politics - 'Your ministry insists on making it difficult for my people to trade cauldrons.'
Then there was a glistening baked fish, no less than three, all longer than her arm and dished of crispy potatoes, salads, steamed carrots and beans. When Hermione was convinced she could eat no more, the most spectacular desserts were brought out. The pride of place was a wobbling tower of pasty poufs, carried by three elves but there was also sponge decorated with cream and strawberries, tarts with peaches arranged like sun rays. Then came yet another course of frozen berries over thick ice cream and finally the meal was over.
Hermione was surprised she could stand to drag herself back to the drawing room and was slightly appalled to see that the tall lady in heels had to be supported heavily by the nephew who'd brought her. The adults, as she was inclined to call Lady Grindelwald and Madame and Monsieur Delacour sat near the fire to continue talking business - 'You know our family has never taken a frontal role in leadership in our country, I can only make suggestions.'
As the only child, Hermione was excused to the carriage and was more than glad to leave the company of the French family.
It wasn't until she woke up back in her English room that Hermione realised she had somehow woken in the carriage. She had assumed she always appeared in her room in Grindelwald castle, seeing as no matter where she disappeared she always reappeared there. Appearing in a carriage in France was another matter entirely.