Deep Roots Studio, Flask Walk, Hampstead, London (1st Session)

An incredibly sweet and cooling smell welcomed Hermione as she took her first steps inside the surprisingly expansive space. Instead of the heavy and clunky exercise equipment she expected, the room has only minimal but tasteful decorations, with color-coordinated pillows and mats spaced equidistant from each other forming a circle, surrounding a single pillow in the middle.

Unsurprisingly, she gravitated to one wall of the room that displayed small indoor plants and books; some catching her eye: The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying; The Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones: The Practice of View, Meditation, and Action; Shaolin & Taoist: Herbal Training Formulas; One Day One Lifetime: An Illustrated Guide to the Spirit, Practice, and Philosophy of Seido Karate Meditation.

Movement at her periphery made her look up. Two women were chatting pleasantly near a couple of speakers, back dropped by massive windows hugging around the two other walls, opening up the space even more with cheery sunlight and lively foliage filtering through.

From the relative quiet, Hermione surmised they were the first ones there. Her mother's design most probably. She processed everything for a few moments before finally nodding her approval at parents who quietly let her take in her new surroundings.

"I honestly thought you're going to trap me in a fitness center, mum," she joked dryly. Hermione wouldn't have minded that if it's as clean and tranquil as this place. It's the sweaty, testosterone-filled machismo kind that she's not so keen about.

She remembered she instantly regretted visiting Harry at the Quidditch pitch locker for a pep talk. The moment she smelt the place and heard the rough housing, she turned tail and ran before the match began.

Never again.

At least they're not flying, Hermione consoled to herself while admiring the shiny and spotless hard wood floor.

That's one physical activity she's glad she can drop next term.

"Well it technically is, butter cup. You're going to carry your own weight to help you along with any fitness you want to see on your body. You'll see. But we think that could come later and have you concentrate on improving your mind. But I gather your exact routine will depend on the teacher," chimed her father patiently. "For example, ever since I've improved on my arm and shoulder muscles, it's easier for me to use my extraction forceps now!" he cheered.

There's something unsettling about a dentist who would be so pleased to pull someone's teeth out, Hermione thought, looking away with raised brows.

Giggling, her mother added her two quids. "The teacher would create routines unique to each participant depending on their needs. She's the one with the blonde hair, over at the sound system. I'm not sure who she's talking with though. She's definitely not a participant," her mother squinted with a tilt of her head. "She's wearing the studio logo on her shirt. We've never seen her since we signed up for the sessions."

As if feeling the curious eyes on her by instinct, the guest inclined her head and spotted the trio immediately. The teacher looked over to them and smiled wide, waving them forward.

"Welcome back to the studio, Dee, Will. I was just talking about you renting the space for the morning on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and some weekends, like you requested. My boss said it won't be a problem considering my usual class schedules," she chirped before bending down to take a look at Hermione better.

And hello there. I assume you're their little lady?" said the friendly blonde, holding out a hand to shake.

"Hermione Granger, miss," returning the gesture with a shy smile.

"Oh! You called me 'Miss'! I like you already. I'm Susan Smith. Call me Susan. Su for short," shaking Hermione's hand more enthusiastically before placing her hands on her hips.

Hermione can already tell why her parents like the place aside from aesthetics.

"You're just in luck! Let me introduce you all to my boss, the owner of this place who has graced us with her presence this month," gestured Susan grandly to the other woman next to her with a chuckle. "She normally checks in maybe twice or thrice a year, depending on business so you wouldn't have seen her before now."

The said owner stepped forward and allowed them to take her in.

Standing relaxed, a petite hand on her hip, she smiled warmly at the small family, her almond shaped eyes and light complexion, with an undertone of brown, led them to believe she is comfortable under the sun. Her slight figure makes her look younger than her probable age would show – owning your own space in London either means you came from old money and inherited the area, or you've invested in other business ventures to save up a substantial amount of capital to afford the place –

Then again, exercise has been known to help with maintaining skin elasticity.

"Good morning. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Miya Lebedeva. You may call me Mrs. Swan if that makes you more comfortable. Otherwise, you may call me by my first name," she greeted with a well-modulated voice, not unlike a radio broadcaster's. It's quite pleasant to listen to.

The Grangers were fascinated while murmuring a greeting back, with Hermione getting a sense of deja vu from hearing the intonation of the owner's full name. As much as London is a hotpot of diverse cultures, they have never met someone with a face, voice, and name like hers put together. And the way she said her last name…

Like meerkats on the lookout, all three Grangers looked behind themselves in synchronicity at the gentleman that's still talking on his device outside, and back towards the Asian-looking woman. In contrast to the seated stranger, whose casual-formal shirt and slacks are in tones of a light stormy sky – and his body language striking him as an unapproachable figure – the woman has a more vibrant dress and a hospitable air to her.

The owner blinked, looking over their shoulders in an elegant side bend before straightening up with a cute giggle.

"Ah! Good eye you three. That's my busy husband. His whole name is a mouthful so you may call him Mr. Swan. Or Mr. Lebedev as it were."

Hermione tilted her head, a small frown on her brow. She can't help herself from asking, "Why do you have different names Mrs…Le-bede-va? Is Swan like a stage name?"

She doesn't feel comfortable calling a stranger without some form of address at first meeting. Just calling her by first name seems way too casual.

But this is such a great opportunity. Hermione always planned to learn other languages in case there were spells that couldn't be translated to Latin. Today's as good as any other to start, even if it's just a surname. The syllables are easy enough but her cadence will need some work.

Mrs. Lebedeva studied her patiently before explaining with another smile, "Our last name literally means "Swan" in English, so it's easily digestible for any western speakers' hearing. In Eastern and Southeastern Europe, there are male and female forms of surnames. I chose to accept my husband's family name, Lebedev, which turned into Lebedeva upon acquiring it. The added suffix depends on the last name though. They could add a 'skaya' instead. Like Yeshevskaya from Yeshevsky."

She went on to summarily discuss about the patronymic name system and having no equivalent for 'Mister' or 'Missus' when addressing a stranger. Its either you address them by their first and patronymic name, or call them certain forms of address based on age.

The petite woman turned her gaze up to the older Grangers next. "My husband might not have the time to introduce himself today. Maybe another day. He just started his call with one of his business partners in the Nordic countries when you arrived. It's why he has that device before its scheduled release in November actually. It's called a 'cellular phone'. It'll be the future in communication! We're so thrilled about it!" Mrs. Lebedeva cheered with an excited single clap of her hands.

William whistled. "I've been hearing about that with my mates. Is there any chance we could pre-order locally, Mrs. Swan?" he said with a winning smile, eyes sparkling, opting for the 'western version' of her name.

"Dad!"

"William!"

Mother and daughter were horrified at his forward behavior; getting chummy with a stranger they just met. But the owner didn't seem to mind. She laughed instead.

"Oh it's alright. They're actually planning to market the hand-held devices in the following weeks. But my husband is very sneaky. He knows using one out in the open like that will attract curious potential buyers. That's why I know he'll have no qualms of me telling you about it," she reasoned with an amused smile, her index finger and thumb positioned in a gesture that means money. "You'll have to ask him about it. I'm sure he'll be glad to do business with you and your friends."

Hermione was intrigued herself and impressed with the stratagem. But she still felt discomfited of potentially offending the proprietress. But her mother, bless her, had perfect timing as always, "I'm sure it'll be a huge success, Mrs. Lebedeva. Landlines can only do so far when you're stationary. It's definitely a step up from payphones."

Her mother suddenly had her by the shoulders, and thrusted her forward towards the smiling women. "On the other hand, we'd like to register our daughter for sessions during this summer. We wanted this to be a family bonding experience."

As smooth as a vacuum cleaner, mum, Hermione thought with a wry smile.

"Oh? We haven't had participants as young as her before. Most of the time, young people would fall asleep or won't have the patience to go through with the motions," Mrs. Lebedeva queried, raising a challenging eyebrow.

Hermione straightened her back – Gryffindor pride rearing its ugly head. She turned towards the owner and affirmed determinedly that she's interested. She might not have understood that well yet what she's getting into but she trusts her parents' sound judgement. She doesn't want their efforts to have gone to waste. She's aware, that in the coming years, she won't be able to connect with them as much as now. And the more she spends her time in the magical world, the more they get left behind.

She wants to appreciate whatever time she has left with them.

Mrs. Lebedeva considered her for a few more moments, arms lightly crossed with hands at her elbows. It took a lot from Hermione to not fidget. She didn't think her own judgment of character was off with the proprietress but her stare feels as penetrating as Professor McGonagall's during detention.

She never thought she'd experience that again so soon.

Finally, Mrs. Lebedeva hummed and turned to the teacher, "Susan, do you mind if I take over this? It's been awhile since I've taught anyone," she explained as she walked back to the stereo and fiddled with some dials and buttons. A lilting sound from a flute started to play, together with some type of stringed instrument from the music player, followed by the natural sound of a quiet thud of something that caused an equally soft splash of water.

Susan dropped her jaw with wide eyes before stuttering, "Of course, Mrs. Swan! It's no trouble at all." She turned to the family with a grin. "You lot must have really wicked lucky. Mrs. Swan was the one that taught me everything I know before offering me a job here. Speaking off, I need to finish up some paperwork. I'll just leave some towels before I go. If you need me, I'll be at the office adjacent to the wash room where you can refresh yourselves before you go. Have fun!"

As the door shut behind Susan, the proprietress turned teacher directed the small family to take the three mats facing away from the entrance of the studio while taking up a position on the single pillow in front of them. She made them sit on crossed legs, checking to make sure they're comfortable.

The older Grangers didn't mind receiving the same set of instructions as if they're still on day one. Since Mrs. Swan is a new teacher, it feels like a new experience all over again. Her melodic voice drifted towards them as she started.

"I want to start our day first by thanking you for choosing our studio for your family activity. I will only serve as a guide and not dictate your journey to your individual self-discovery. Since this is your summer break, Miss Granger, think of these sessions as… retreats for your body, mind, and spirit – for the last, in not the strictest religious sense; unless you're inclined to that. Think of it as a re-arranging of your mind, setting it to keep your thoughts positive. This will help declutter the vast amounts of information up there and free up more space for creative endeavors.

Or anything you would like to put your mind to."

Mrs. Lebedeva went on a few more details like the timing of their sessions, asking for a courtesy call in case there is a schedule conflict and what not. Hermione smiled in appreciation, nodding along her understanding of the objective of the class.

Their new teacher began by showing the way to breath, encouraging them to take in the scent and sound of the room, rotating their shoulders in time with their breathes, leading their bodies to ease into some of the initial stretches.

Time passed very slowly for Hermione as she was given more attention to practice the motions. Her exact routine will be established after figuring out what she likes best.

Being used to multitasking and processing various information almost all at once in one seating, the measured procession of movement and the quiet atmosphere lulled her too much, making her drowsy. She felt guilty for becoming inattentive, for the first time in her life, in class. She shook it off as best as she could. Glancing behind her while doing some stretches, her parents were in their own worlds for their own routines already.

Their instructor sat in a 'lotus' position, observing them, with Hermione in the middle receiving most of her attention. And because of that, she was able to sense her youngest participant's internal struggle right away. She smoothly moved to a kneeling position in front of the young girl, gesturing for her to seat back in her crossed legged position again.

"Miss Granger, is there something troubling your mind? Are you having difficulty concentrating on the movements?" she said kindly in a low tone, politely respecting her space and that of her parents.

Hermione shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Lebedeva. No, your instructions are well made. I think I'm not used to this kind of quiet."

The teacher gave her a peculiar look and a tilt of her head, "Have you never been to a library before then? Or is your neighborhood noisy?"

Hermione surprised herself with a sudden quiet laugh, cutting it off out of embarrassment for disturbing the silence. "Quite the opposite, ma'am. I love reading. The library or any other place with lots of books is perfect for me. And our neighborhood is peaceful so it's a tranquil kind of quiet. Here there's not much…stimulation?"

The instructor hummed, tapping a finger on her chin, "Ah, you're used to the hustle and bustle. I imagine even the sound of traffic or the hum of appliances might have soothed you unconsciously. You might also have boisterous friends? Classmates? You didn't have the chance to develop your tranquility yet.

Sou desu ka…let's focus on the library then. I'm assuming you like to spend your time at the one in school?" Hermione nodded eagerly.

"Aside from reading, what do you do?" Mrs. Lebedeva's focus on her never wavered, even as she silent gestured to her father to correct his stance.

"Well, I like working on my assignments and essays there. Less people bother me and I can reference more books with the entire width of the table available to me," Hermione whispered matter-of-factly, trying to hide a yawn by blinking rapidly.

"So the environment is quiet and you can do a routine without interruption. Which is exactly what we're doing now," The proprietress pointed out. "What else is interesting at your school library?"

"I like to practice for my lessons. It's a bit tricky sometimes with the movement, and since there are less people around, I won't poke anyone's eye out," Hermione fidgeted, her knees starting to fall asleep with her mind along with it.

"Ah. Charms wand work then? Or was it for a test in Transfiguration?"

"Both I suppose since one needs a good – " Hermione answered absently before freezing in place. She tensed up as her mind woke up instantly from her lethargy and snapped her head to gape up at the teacher so fast her parents thought she might develop a crick. The older Grangers were similarly in a gawking state.

" A– Are you – how did – but when…" Hermione stammered, mind working frantically, not knowing if this broke the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Even if Mrs. Lebedeva is actually what Hermione thinks she is, this building is built for muggles, isn't it? And she didn't exactly tell anything but thoughtlessly agree to a question. That could give her leeway, right?

Hermione desperately tried to recall the clauses she might have breached, her eyes moving around the space, even searching if Susan was lingering in the room.

She only passed her first year! She couldn't afford to get expelled. She shook off the incoming dark thoughts on picking up muggle schooling again.

When she looked back at her teacher again, she saw her lips curved up in muted amusement. But after looking at Hermione's frazzled expression, Mrs. Lebedeva seem to take pity and moved in. She gently soothed Hermione with a hand on her shoulder and another at her back, rubbing it in a slow rhythm. "Easy, Miss Granger. It's alright. All is well. This is a safe space for individuals to practice their craft. Magical or not," she emphasized. "Yes. I am a witch. The moment you walked in, the room notified me of your…special presence. We made it that way." She answered Hermione's almost-questions in order in a calming, even tone.

The Grangers bodily sighed in relief before collectively looking over at Mr. Swan behind them, noticing right away the stressed wording the proprietress used in her last sentence. He was staring right back at them all with mild curiosity and a raised eyebrow before rotating his head forward again to attend to his call. His arm draped the back of the bench and seeming to relax back into his long-distanced conversation.

"You're a – But you have a business. A muggle business. You both know how to deal in muggle businesses but still practice magic," Hermione whispered in realization. "Then you could –"

Mrs. Lebedeva interrupted her with a nod and steady smile. With a flick of a finger and a quick glance towards the entrance, blinders slid down the glass doors and the music changed into café bossa nova music.

The trio gasps in varying levels of wonder.

In her excitement, Hermione straightened up into a kneeling position. "I know doing business needs permits and the like; do you have to check in with our Ministry of Magic? You don't live here often, Miss Smith said. Do you travel magically? Or did you travel by sea through a ship? Or air through a plane? This area is safe? So it's sanctioned by the Ministry? How – "

Mrs. Lebedeva laughed softly as she held onto Hermione's shoulders. "Calm down, Miss Granger. We'll get to all that. Now, let's try something simple while we're on the subject and more eager now for your first session." She then moved to sit down at her pillow again.

"Look at your parents first and then look at me. Try to find something different in me that you couldn't see on your parents."

Hermione nodded and changed her position so she could see all the adults in her field of vision.

Her dad waved with a thumbs-up, showing his support. This was followed by a light slap on his shoulder courtesy of her mother, who turned back to Hermione while eyeing the revealed witch instructor.

Hermione looked closely and could only see her parents as she always seen them every day. She gasps though when she turned to face the teacher.

Mrs. Lebedeva also sat still for her with a smile. This time, Hermione understood that the vibrant air that welcomed them a while ago is exactly that. Pulsating energy is subtly emitted out of her instructor's body in controlled burst. A moment later, it evened out until it's as non-existent as her parents'.

Hermione tried her best to tone down her enthusiasm. This is the first time, separate from Hogwarts, the Leaky Cauldron, or Diagon Alley that she can openly talk about magic outside of their home and witness it; witnessed wandless magic and magical auras for that matter. Or what she thinks as auras. She ponders if she could take Divination in her third year as an additional on the two other elective classes she's already planned on taking.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Lebedeva. It's just…you're the first witch I met that's well adjusted to muggle life. I couldn't even notice it before you showed me. When we first discovered I can attend Hogwarts, I had to conform or else I'll be left behind," said Hermione as she thought back on the day she got her letter.

Every strange happening at home since she turned nine years old made sense that faithful day an owl swooped in at their dinner table: the blooming flowers in her mother's favorite windowsill despite the cold; the warmth of the living room regardless of the unplugged heater, and the unlit fireplace; and the quick healing on Hermione's hands after she fell down the stairs and got nicked by the metal railings.

Everything made even better sense once Mr. Arthur Weasley arrived a few days later and explained in more detail, as was one of his duties in the Ministry of Magic.

A Ministry of Magic, Hermione's younger self thought with awe.

Speaking of Mr. Weasley…

"The few wizards and witches I did see that tried to 'blend in' with the muggle population aren't doing a good job at it, treating everyday objects like it's, like it's alien technology from space or something." Hermione gesticulated wildly in emphasis. The picture she painted was highly amusing to all of the adults.

Mrs. Lebedeva was interrupted from answering then by a distant coo and a light flap of wings coming from behind her.

Wait, flap of wings? Owls are supposed to be silent flyers.

The Grangers were in for another surprise that day. Instead of an owl – which they now associate with windows and mail – a pretty bird flew in from a gap in one of the windows and landed next to the proprietress, a rolled up paper attached to its back, wearing a remarkable body collar they couldn't quite see in detail.

While Mrs. Lebedeva excused herself to skim her message, Hermione watched as the bird hopped in her direction with a bob of its head. It clicked then that it's a large pigeon or dove. She put her palm out in encouragement, her parents slowly closing in at her back, watching with great interest.

It did rotate its head a few times, taking a good look at them with either of its eyes. Up close, it's bigger than any of the Grangers have ever seen in London parks or sidewalks; about the size of an average Barn Owl perhaps? And it looked…fancy? Its body is covered in soft-looking russet plumes while its head and tail feathers are white as snow. The brown feathers close to its head fluffed up in such a way that made it look like its wearing a mini fur collar.

When it moved around Hermione and the older Grangers with a pitter patter of its feet, it started to stomp rhythmically, bowing its head in time, tail feathers fanned out like a peacock, surprising the family. It cooed melodically in time with its movement. Overall, the performance made for an adorable sight.

"Oh that's surprising. He likes you. And on first sight too," interjected Mrs. Lebedeva with a smile as she made her letter disappear like a stage magician would: closing her hands over the parchment until it was just…gone.

She made a particular gesture next and cooed which made the charming dove instantly fly to her outstretched arm, cuddling close and nibbling on her chin as she brought him closer to her chest. "I think this is a good time to end today's session. Susan will be looking to prepare for afternoon and early evening classes and would want to grab a bite to eat. Would you like to join us?"

"No, I think we're good. We didn't expect – well, we didn't expect anything like this today!" exclaimed Cynthia in a happy daze. "Mind if we take a rain check? I don't think we'll be able to stop the deluge of questions once you get us started."

"I understand," replied Mrs. Lebedeva, giggling with a side head tilt.

The Wells Tavern, Flask Walk, Hampstead, London

Picking a nice secluded table at the first floor, the family of three fell silent, stupefied, on their seats while waiting for their luncheon.

Her mother has that scheming look to her face again. Her dad on the other hand couldn't keep still anymore and blurted, "So! How about that cellular phone? I'm serious about buying one of those. Do you think there's reception in your school? Might be faster than owl mail," William opened casually, playing with his table napkin.

Cynthia tittered and rolled her eyes before turning to their daughter and stage-whispered, "Men and their machines." Hermione's answering giggle finally broke the tension on their table.

"We definitely can't speak of it here but, I'm feeling you'll be more excited for the next session, won't you, dear?" said her mother with a wink.

"Two days from now. I can't wait. There so much to ask. She could help me so much," said Hermione impatiently but with relief.

"Then better ready a notebook for your Q & A, buttercup. And hey, we're there with you. If the Mister isn't busy again, we'll be able to navigate the 'D. Alley' circles by the time we need to buy your school books next month."

And wheedle his way towards getting that device no doubt, thought Hermione in amusement.

Author's Note: Everyone needs support, even our trusty, knowledgeable lioness~

EDIT 10/10/2020 Requested Translation / Explanation:

The books in Mrs. Lebedeva's bookshelf are real. Try to check them out~

quid - simply put is just another term for the pound sterling of the UK currency. I used a play on words when Cynthia Granger added her 'two quids'. The original American slang is 'add/put your/my two cents' - adding your/my own tentative opinion. On the other hand, if you used 'be quids in', it means you're making a profit in English slang.

sou desu ka - 'is that so? / oh I see' in Japanese. or something similar to that phrasing.

Fancy pigeons / doves are also real. Check out the variety out there~ (although unlike in my story, they're not really good flyers. Most of their beautiful feathers are for show, not flight.)

Onwards!

Reine