Minerva opened her eyes to find herself in a brightly lit hall with large arching windows that appeared to overlook an enclosed courtyard. She was standing to one end of the hall that boasted a number of roughly hewn wooden tables and one obvious desk beneath the windows that looked to be the front of the room.
The space was entirely empty and she looked around, wondering what exactly she was supposed to be witnessing when a pair of French doors at the opposite end of the hall abruptly opened and two well-dressed wizards marched through, their long robes fluttering lightly as they moved.
"- sure about this, Aviv?" The man speaking seemed to be in his late sixties - his silvery hair pulled back into a smart ponytail as he frowned, his mustache and goatee reminding Minerva of Talfryn Hawtrey.
"Director, if you wish to stay, Master Granger is more than amenable. She has assured me that the students will be brewing alongside her and that the first part of the workshop is going to be devoted to points of safety. She doesn't tolerate shenanigans," the younger wizard replied confidently, already sweeping to the desk and arranging a few parchments.
"Still… you have to admit, Finite Transformatus is an incredibly complicated brew for teenagers, let alone our eight-year olds!"
Minerva's eyebrows lifted. She had to agree.
"Director, I trust her completely. I guarantee you that if you stay, you will be pleasantly surprised," the younger wizard replied confidently. He seemed to be mid-forties, though it was always difficult to tell with fellow witches and wizards.
Minerva frowned at realizing that while she understood the words being spoken, both sets of lips were moving slightly out of synch. The Pensieve compensated for languages - allowing the user to understand whatever was understood by the memory owner. They must be speaking… what? Hebrew? Arabic?
Before she could dwell on it further, Minerva found herself gasping as a figure passed straight through her in the disconcerting manner of all Pensieves. A moment later, she recognized the lithe figure as that of Miss Granger herself.
Unknowingly, Minerva found herself trailing behind the witch as she strode into the room, a plain leather satchel hanging over one shoulder as she extended a hand in greeting.
"Good afternoon, gentleman." The light, musical tone was unmistakable and despite the Pensieve's compensation, Minerva found herself smiling at the difference in accents. Miss Granger's clipped tones fell quietly upon the room in their familiar precise manner.
"Master Granger, welcome. I trust you had an uneventful journey?"
The younger wizard, Aviv reached out to clasp her hand, his dark eyes crinkling into a pleased smile. The director gave a gracious nod.
"Indeed, though I shall regret having to return. It was already thirty-three degrees when I departed this morning," Miss Granger replied. Minerva raised an eyebrow.
"I don't miss the city of gold, that is certain," Aviv chuckled, "Is there anything you require?"
The witch shook her head gently.
"Not at the moment. The students shall be arriving shortly?"
A growing swell of footsteps and laughter reached their ears and the Director merely raised his eyebrows in response. They all turned toward the French doors which quickly swung open to issue a stream of beige-robed children, the majority of whom boasted tanned skin and dark eyes. It was clearly summer.
Minerva allowed herself a moment to study the young woman standing next to her. Miss Granger was watching the incoming students quietly, her full lips curved into a gentle smile as Minerva's eyes raked over her lithe feminine form encased in a sleeveless linen dress in a rather lovely shade of olive. The witch's arms were tanned and well-toned, betraying sinewy muscles that Minerva didn't recall before her departure.
The mane of curls was piled high atop the witch's head and encased in an artfully arranged wrap with a floral pattern in ivory and gold. Minerva found her eyes lingering upon a few tendrils that had escaped the twisted fabric to trail along the deliciously long neck, and a moment later she flushed... realizing in embarrassment that she was practically ogling a former student.
The large group of children suddenly noticed their Director and Miss Granger and abruptly fell silent, quickly sliding onto stools with serious expressions. Minerva caught all three of the teachers hiding smiles.
"Hello everyone. If you would please set your belongings along the back wall. There is no need for books or materials today," Miss Granger said quietly. Though her voice was soft, there was an underlying strength to it that Minerva had never heard.
It seems she found her teacher voice, she thought with a smirk.
A few students looked at each other with surprised expressions but they all moved en masse to complete her instructions, a few already whispering excitedly. Before they could turn around and head back to their spots, Miss Granger quickly waved a hand and vanished all of the stools and leaving only four workbenches.
Wandless magic?
Minerva literally stopped and stared for a moment, taking in Miss Granger's lifted chin and the easy way in which she waited for the students to return. When did she learn wandless magic?!
Unlike Minerva, the students appeared to take the rather advanced demonstration of magic in stride and they shuffled back to the center of the now-clean space, clumping together and shifting… their linen robes making slight swishing noises.
"My name is Master Granger and I'm here to teach you a rather complicated brew today," the witch said swiftly. Setting her satchel on the floor in the middle of the room, Miss Granger motioned for the students to create a semi-circle around her.
A moment later, they gasped as a number of square parchments flew out of her bag and settled themselves upon the floor in a flurry of movement. There were at least thirty squares.
"Now, I need three brave volunteers," Miss Granger said seriously. "These volunteers must be confident and responsible individuals… unafraid of unexpected consequences and ready to help us all with a project that we will be working on for the remainder of your class today."
Minerva smiled at the warmth infusing the witch's words - noting the way it immediately resulted in several small hands shooting into the air. The witch made an artful show of deliberating and a moment later, three energetic students bounded forward. Two boys and a girl.
"May I have your names please?" Miss Granger asked. She received quietly mumbled responses that Minerva didn't catch before nodding and organizing them into a line in front of the desk. She folded her hands behind her back and began pacing around the small semicircle.
"Masters David, Kohali, and Rosenberg have graciously stepped forward assist us in our endeavors today. In a moment, they shall risk their dignity… and perhaps their lovely robes for us," Miss Granger said carefully, her eyes flashing mischievously.
The three students' eyes widened slightly and Minerva could see Aviv hiding a chuckle as he and the Director watched from the back of the room.
A moment later, the three students jumped and there was a good amount of giggling as they suddenly sprouted an array of extra things… Minerva's eyes widened.
The girl sprouted a peacock tail and turned over one shoulder to look at the long feathers in with open-mouthed shock. One of the boys was boasting a fire-red dragon tail complete with gold spikes on the end, and the last boy was the new possessor of a lion tail that whipped back and forth as he tried to catch it in both hands.
The laughter grew louder but before Minerva could grow concerned about the three transfigured students, Miss Granger stepped forward and began clapping for them.
"Please give our brave volunteers a gracious round of applause. They look magnificent, do they not?"
There was more laughter through the clapping and a lot of shouts of "yes!"
The three faces transformed from shock into amusement and they quickly began prodding each other, giggling, and making an exaggerated show of trying to grab their new appendages.
Minerva chuckled, impressed at how quickly the witch had managed to turn the experience into something… well, fun.
"My three masters, fear not - we shall soon come to your aid! We are benevolent class, yes?"
Miss Granger paused and gave a sideways glance to the students who were still giggling. She received a number of emphatic nods and a few more shouts before breaking into a sunny smile and turning back to the trio. Her easy enthusiasm was infectious and Minerva found herself smiling in response.
"Well then, it seems we are all in agreement to help return you to your proper forms. But in order to do so, we must work together to brew a very complex potion."
The giggling continued a bit but Miss Granger simply ignored them.
"Now, this is a brew that I typically give to my older students. In some secondary schools it's not taught until third year," she paused and Minerva smiled again as the entire class fell silent, many pairs of eyes widening in surprise.
"Our three masters have been temporarily transfigured. Can anyone think of a spell that one might use to cancel their… extra accessories?"
An eager girl toward the left raised her hand, her dark eyes flashing in excitement as Miss Granger nodded.
"Finite Incantatem, Master?"
"Very good, Miss…?"
"Mizrahi, Master." Miss Granger strode over and placed a warm hand on the girl's shoulder as she continued lecturing.
"Miss Mizrahi is correct. However, as none of us have wands today… we are going to brew the spell's equivalent. Let me be clear that unlike spells, Potions must be tailored to respond to the method that altered the taker. A Charm must be undone by a potion meant to undo Charms. Another Potion must be undone with a brew meant to undo a Potion. What did I use on our three masters?"
She opened a hand expectantly and a chorus of voices resounded.
"Transfiguration!"
Minerva was surprised by the obvious enthusiasm and she found herself chuckling softly.
"Exactly. Therefore today we shall be brewing Finite Transformatus. And we shall do it together."
Minerva found herself perching on the front desk as she watched Miss Granger conjure all of the necessary ingredients in small piles on the floor on small squares of parchment. First, the witch let the children paw through all of the ingredients - asking them to note small differences in smell, touch, appearance that would help them choose the right amounts and materials for the potion. There was a good amount of curious digging and laughter and she was rather surprised at how happily the students took to their task.
Then, Miss Granger had them split into four groups - rotating through stations as they learned how to properly julienne bubotuber roots, squeeze the juice from elderberries, carefully siphon pollen from bright purple Ellora flowers, and separate the stamens from dried saffron. After each successful completion of a task, the students reverently began placing small glass petri dishes in neat rows on the front desk, organized alphabetically.
Following the group rotations, she had them split into trios - each one receiving a list of simpler tasks that they were to complete together as the ingredient pool in the middle of the room gradually began to dwindle in size.
Despite her initial promise toward objectivity, Minerva found herself impressed at how Miss Granger effortlessly managed the class.
The witch demonstrated all of the tasks twice - once for left-handed students and then again for right handed students. Careful attention was drawn to tricky details, ensuring that everyone was aware of safety concerns, particularly when knives and more difficult ingredients were being handled. Minerva shadowed the young woman, watching her give notes and corrections... stepping in to rearrange small hands on handles, and to encourage them to use their body weight to help leverage some of the more difficult tasks.
Miss Granger was stern but also personable and Minerva was surprised when not even twenty minutes into the class, it was clear that she knew all of the students' names. She was quick to spot trouble and mischief - managing to convey her displeasure instantly and yet issue challenge so that the students in question rushed to return to their tasks with enthusiasm rather than resentment.
Aviv and the Director seemed to drift around the periphery and Minerva eventually found herself following, the three of them unconsciously wearing matching fond expressions as the eight-year old's admirably navigated the tenuous line between enthusiasm, focus, and rapt listening.
It is strange, she thought… to see such small children behaving so similarly to adults.
Miss Granger seemed to recognize the more rambunctious students' need for hands-on assistance in the more challenging fine-motor tasks and those who needed different explanations from those she had provided to the group. She was quick to offer praise and to point out specific students as positive examples while encouraging the successful individuals to act as leaders for their friends.
Minerva was further impressed as the witch continued to reign in the residual giggles as the three transfigured students occasionally ran into others with their new appendages. She was careful to ensure that they remained confident, comfortable, and responsible… even making a show of avoiding the one boy's rather enthusiastic dragon tail as it threatened to trip her on her way across the room.
From the way Miss Granger raised an elegant eyebrow and appeared offered a small aside, Minerva barely managed to contain a guffaw as the boy in question puffed up in pride and returned to his work with exaggerated deliberation, his dragon tail carefully curled around his feet. The dark shining eyes seemed to indicate he would follow her anywhere.
Minerva was surprised when she checked the clock on the side of the room and saw that nearly forty minutes had passed. Miss Granger had managed her time with astounding efficiency and it was no surprise when the witch clapped her hands and notified everyone that they had five more minutes before it was time to begin brewing in earnest.
Sidling to one side of the room, Minerva followed as Miss Granger drifted over to Aviv and the Director.
"They are doing a lovely job, Director," the witch said, her amber eyes warm. The two wizards exchanged a fond glance and the older gentleman shook his head lightly.
"Miss Granger, I am impressed. I've never seen them work so diligently for so long!" The wizard said, his pride evident as he gazed across the room.
"It helps that I am a new face… though they clearly have been taught well," she smiled, nudging Aviv with one elbow. He shook his head and chuckled.
"You make it look easy," he replied good-naturedly as Miss Granger chuckled and crossed her arms.
"It's all about balance," she murmured, already moving back toward the center of the room.
Minerva followed, smirking lightly as a number of eyes widened in panic and there was an increase in hissed whispers as the students rushed to complete their tasks.
"You have one minute left. Remember, rushing is only going to make your task more difficult! You can move quickly with purpose," Miss Granger said loudly, sending out a few pointed looks.
"A good potioneer knows how to remain in control of the situation! Take a breath, we're almost to the end of our tasks," she finished, stepping aside as a number of small bodies began converging on the front desk bearing more petri dishes full of ingredients, their faces purposeful and determined.
A few minutes later, the workbenches were clear and the ingredients on the floor had been vanished. Miss Granger had summoned a large copper cauldron out of her satchel along with a burner and three different types of ladles.
The students sat upon conjured cushions in their semicircle and they watched with rapt attention as Miss Granger explained the importance of mise en place, their eyes widening as she wordlessly called over the individual petri dishes - making a few comments on their work and scattered compliments as she organized the ingredients in an order that best facilitated the brew at hand.
Minerva also found herself listening with interest. The witch asked a number of leading questions that quickly explained her reasoning for the cauldron type, the methods of adding and stirring ingredients, and a bit more about the need for potions in general. Potions had never been a strong suit of her own and yet as Miss Granger spoke, Minerva found a number of small details and ideas making complete sense in a way that had never occurred to her as a student.
She found herself surprised and admittedly, rather fascinated as she listened.
As the witch spoke, she brewed - calling up various individuals one by one to assist her in the process - asking them to explain what they were seeing, smelling, or feeling as they added ingredients at her side, stirred, or adjusted the flames with her help. Minerva couldn't help but feel envious at times… the witch was clearly a natural teacher and in her element in a way that had taken Minerva years to negotiate when she had first begun teaching.
Their individual styles were very different, she noted, and Miss Granger seemed to balance a blend of gentle humor against careful direction. At times there was something almost… maternal about her methods that surprised Minerva. Somehow, she had imagined that the witch would have adopted a more stern persona like herself.
These students are much younger than those at Hogwarts, Minerva reminded herself - watching curiously as the witch crouched behind a shorter boy, hugging him gently at the waist for support as he worked with both hands to stir the thickening brew with a determined expression on his face.
A moment later Miss Granger murmured something quietly that only he could hear and the small features broke into a brilliant grin as he nodded in reply, turning to flash her an adoring look before she hugged him gently and sent him scampering back his place.
After a few more minutes Minerva watched as the three transfigured students stepped up to the front of the room, everyone laughing together as Miss Granger had them strike one last pose with their tails for good measure. She carefully ladled the potion into three clear phials, taking a moment to thank everyone for their participation as she indicated the potion was indeed absolutely the right color and consistency thanks to all their hard work.
The three students and everyone laughed again as Miss Granger encouraged them to pinch their noses before drinking, warning them that the potion tasted rather bitter.
A moment later the tails quickly shrank and the three students looked behind themselves in comical amazement to find their recent additions replaced with thin air. The class gave them another round of applause as Miss Granger quickly waved the rest of the potion into neat phials that labeled and stoppered themselves. The cauldron was vanished and the witch picked up her satchel before regarding them solemnly.
Wide eyes looked back at her as Miss Granger announced that their hard work would be sent to the school's infirmary as they had all pitched in to replenish a rather difficult brew that was hard to find in Tel Aviv. Their teacher, Aviv, came forward to corroborate the witch's words and the class fairly vibrated in their excitement at having made a "real potion."
Minerva found herself smiling openly as the class drew to an end… and thirty small figures suddenly converged upon Miss Granger, plying her with hugs and happy smiles.
The young woman gave them a big smile in return, reaching out her arms to try to draw them all into a large group hug, her musical laughter ringing in Minerva's ears even as the bright room began to waver and fade…
Lifting her up and away…
... Out of the bright sunshine and back into the familiar darkened chambers of her office.
Minerva paused for a moment, her heart swiftly pounding as her body readjusted to the real world. A glance at the grandfather clock told her that little time had passed; fortunately, despite their length, the Pensieve processed memories with immediacy similar to one's own mind. She still had a little over an hour before it was time to see to her rounds.
She closed her eyes, her thoughts still full of sunshine and childish laughter... potions ingredients... small eyes watching curiously. Her fingers gripped the edge of the stone basin as she reviewed the memory in its entirety... her lips quirking as she realized just why Horace had given her the bottle in the first place.
Miss Granger is a natural... we would be lucky to have her...
She replayed the witch's first entrance. How she had strode confidently into the room and managed to command everyone with such poise and ease.
Minerva hadn't realized just how much the young woman had changed. It was difficult to tell beneath the heavier layers of Hogwarts robes, but in the memory... she had been surprised by the lithe, feminine body. Strong arms and tanned skin...
The dusting of freckles across tanned cheeks and the straight, demure nose...
Long fingers deftly demonstrating how to julienne, the short nails painted a deep crimson...
Amber eyes glowing in amusement... catching the bright light...
Her own lips parted slightly as Minerva mentally traced the lovely caramel curls and full lips framing white teeth as the witch had thrown her head back in mirth...
She was arresting... luminous...
Opening her eyes, Minerva gasped lightly... suddenly at a loss to explain the unexpected direction of her thoughts. She looked around even as her cheeks flushed, but the portraits remained asleep and silent above her.
A lovely memory... but it was just a memory. Nothing more...
Assured that no one had been privy to such a lapse in control, Minerva smoothed an elegant hand over her dark hair, quickly stepping away from the Pensieve and banishing the memory back to its green bottle.
She took a deep breath and turned, bizarrely wishing for a mundane work-related task to occupy her time.
It was just a memory, she repeated.
Returning to the chesterfield purposefully, Minerva summoned a random book from a shelf and opened it.
Unseeingly, her eyes flicked over the text as she reached for the glass tumbler, barely tasting the Scotch as it slid down her throat.
The fire was burning low in the hearth, the peripheral embers bathing the room in shades of crimson.
Unbuttoning her robes slightly, Minerva tried to convince herself it was just the residual heat from the fire. That the warmth alighting upon her cheeks and chest was simply left over from the disconcerting experience of the Pensieve.
"It was just a memory..." she whispered.
Her emerald eyes gazed past the upside-down text of her book and into the crackling flames.
Watching the glowing tongues of fire, Minerva somehow manage to divine caramel curls... and deep amber eyes glowing with laughter.