Granger Residence, Heathgate, Hampstead, London
"Don't bring any extra clothes today, Will. I have a feeling we'll be taking our time today."
"You haven't steered us wrong yet, dear. Maybe an extra bag for Hermione then?"
"Books?"
"Books. Oh! And the cupcakes! Definitely need room for those."
-{-}-
"Hermione! Breakfast!"
"Two minutes please!"
The young witch scratched a few more lines before returning her attention to her other notes, double checking anything she might have missed before organizing the pages in a neat pile, setting the books she's satisfied with back in her trunk.
Ever since they came home two days ago, she went straight to her spell books, looking through the well-worn and bookmarked pages for her scribbled thoughts and ideas. She compiled an initial list of concepts she was a little shy to discuss with her professors, a few theories she hoped to understand better.
She wanted to do well in her studies but not at the cost of getting too much unwanted attention from her peers. She's had enough of being the 'teacher's pet' in her old schools, she wryly thought as she reflexively rubbed left wrist.
She closed her eyes, breathing in through her nose and letting air out slowly through her mouth. She did this a couple more times until she felt more settled.
"I'm better. I will be better."
Deep Roots Studio, Flask Walk, Hampstead, London (1.5th Session)
"Dobroye utro," hailed a smooth, quiet voice as the small family of three pass through the sliding door of the studio again.
The greeting didn't hold their attention though as they were thoroughly distracted by the changes in the now more expansive space. More book shelves lined up the one wall with – from what Hermione could guess – magic-related references next to the various muggle books. More plants with medicinal properties are growing into the wood of the shelves instead of on the pots, which avoided any of the texts next to them. Replacing the glass windows on the other two walls were floor to ceiling glass doors decorated with fine tawny engravings. They lead straight into the sunny garden at the back. And finally, the circle of mats was moved to the right side of the space, making more room for a cozy area of settees with what they assumed was a tea service tray near it. An ornamental, hand-hammered brass container was in the center of the tray, with a stout teapot curiously on top of it.
The steam that lazily swirled from the container led their eyes up to the new design on the ceiling, where before it was low, and covered in simple wooden panels and a light fixture in an oriental design and shaped in a three dimensional rectangle, now its high, painted in a soft blue hue and a vast gilded painting of clouds. A large predatory-looking white and gold bird with six wings weaved in and out of the frame; its sharp stare had them rooted in place in awe when it flew in the middle of the picture to observe them.
Hermione broke from her craned position as footsteps sounded closer to them from the hallway going to the other rooms. She tapped her parents' arms discretely, staring blankly at the person putting down a tall cup of something very strong-smelling on the tray.
"Good morning," repeated the gentleman from the other day with a straight face. "Have a seat. Miya is just finishing a transaction."
They all blinked and remained standing, manners kicking in in response to the man's formal bearing.
His eyebrows rose slightly before his expression cleared in understanding and inclined his head. "I apologize. We have not been introduced. Miya won't mind if I do so without her presence." He walked up to them in long languid strides, and bowed, surprising them all. "I am Maksimillian Vasilovich Lebedev. You may call me Mr. Lebedev. Mr. Swan is also acceptable," he added in an afterthought, bowing again. His voice was a nice low baritone, his enunciation flawless. He would be highly attractive if only his towering presence weren't so intimidating.
Mrs. Lebedeva wasn't exaggerating about his name, Hermione mused before she felt a pang of anxiety, unsure of how to return his greeting. She never thought she needed to know the customs of other countries unless it's related to her studies. She'd have to convince her parents for a quick stop over in the bookstore on their way home. But for now when in doubt…
She glanced up to her dad, watching what he'd do. He seemed indecisive for a few seconds, studying their tall host, before smiling cautiously and bowed back, albeit a little stiff. Her mother though, even in her joggers, did a flawless curtsy with a small flourish of her hands. Hermione went with that but without the fanfare.
Mr. Lebedev's approving look broke the unconsciously tense atmosphere and held his arm out in welcome. "Please, have a seat. My wife will be with us in a few short minutes." He ushered them further into the lounge area while asking how they'd like their tea.
Hermione watched in fascinated study as the fair-haired gentleman prepared and served. From measuring the tea leaves of their choice – stored in smartly labeled canisters displayed at the bottom of the tea tray – to pouring boiling water into a teapot, the little spout near the bottom of the metal container opened up by itself and let off a discreet babble of gently flowing water.
When her dad was interested to try the tea their host was drinking, Mr. Lebedev simply nodded before wandlessly and wordlessly transfiguring one of the extra teacups into another pot. Hermione's widened eyes hinted to her parents that it wasn't a usual sight to see since all they knew about magic was what Hermione knew so far, and everything seem to require the use of a wand.
"Good choice. It's usually a beverage for the winter season; keeps you very warm. But it's high in caffeine, effective in waking you up. Sip slowly," he instructed succinctly.
William choked after he took a deep sip, "Ack! Uhh…that's very…robust."
"Indeed."
"What's in it?"
"Concentrated black tea leaves. Caramel. Dried cranberries – "
"Ah, so that's the sweet and sour – "
" – and fresh tobacco."
"…"
"You gave me nicotine-laced tea?!" cried her father, looking into his cup with alarm.
Hermione raised an eyebrow while stifling her giggles. She thought she saw their formal host use his cup to hide a smile. Cynthia was outright laughing at her husband while he sheepishly apologized.
"No. It's perfectly safe. The leaves are soaked overnight. The water draws away the nicotine and toxins. When dried and brewed with other ingredients, it adds a smoke-like depth to the drink," explained Mr. Lebedev with cool nonchalance. He then narrowed his gaze at Hermione. "The process is not unlike preparing ingredients for brewing, yes? I'm curious Miss Granger, would you know the properties of the Exstimulo Potion?"
"Oh. N-no, sir." Hermione answered with a small voice and wide eyes.
"Ah forgive me. It's in France that has the winged horses. It might not be commonly taught here. When is the best time to extract the Moonseed for a Moonseed Poison?"
"I…"
"Hmm. At what proximity will the Fatiguing Infusion affect a human?
"I…"
"No? How about a basic: which curse does an Oculus Potion counteract?"
"...basic?"
Cynthia and William looked over worriedly to their fidgeting daughter, hesitant to think if she was just nervous from being suddenly asked questions or she honestly didn't know the answers. They've done study sessions similar to this last summer and she always answered confidently and with detail, even though at that time she hasn't started school yet.
Mr. Lebedev hummed again and kept his silence, inclining his head with a small frown of his brow. He didn't seem all that disapproving but with his face set indifferently, they couldn't tell exactly what's on his mind, which made Hermione even more nervous, rubbing her wrist again in self-doubt.
A flute-like cooing interrupted the heavy atmosphere.
Everyone turned to the sound in relief and met the smiling eyes of the proprietress, a fluffy blue-grey dove with bright ringed eyes perched content on her shoulder. "Good morning! What did I miss? Ooh, are those cupcakes?"
She took in everyone's body language then, raising an eyebrow to her husband in silent question. He stood up and just waited until his wife took her place beside him, receiving a sweet thank you from her for an offered cup from the 'ladies' pot made with Russian Earl Grey, which is basically black tea with Thai lemongrass and sun-ripened orange peels added for a refreshing taste. She seems to ignore the awkward air.
"I just finished talking with Susan. She'll be changing her off days to Thursdays and Saturdays in preparation for a relative's wedding next month. I arranged for her classes to be rescheduled so we'd have the entire day today for ourselves. Isn't it great?"
Without waiting for a reply, she plowed on, "I assumed we'd need a slight adjustment to our planned routine for you, Miss Granger. I propose we defer your session to next Thursday as we now have a whole day, instead of half. I'm sure we'd be discussing a fair 'few' things," the proprietress teased warmly.
Hermione immediately grabbed onto her cue. "I understand, Mrs. Lebedeva. I actually do have a couple of things I'd like to clarify."
"Good, good. Identifying the problem is already halfway leading to the solution. We need to also know where you are right now in your education. If it's alright for you to share, may we know what subjects you took last year and what you're taking next year? What are your references so far?"
"We haven't received our school shopping list yet for next term. We might receive it two weeks from now. I thought you might ask so here's a list of my first year subjects and books."
Hermione proceeded to take out two separate lists from her folder, explaining how each professor decides on the appropriate material depending on the year of the student. The added tomes on her list are things she felt she should read on since she didn't grow up in a magical household.
All was silent as one couple studied the parchments in contemplation while the other pair studied the other and Hermione, who was fidgeting the bottom of her shirt while also staring anxiously at the Lebedevs.
"Hogwarts," Mr. Lebedev suddenly scoffed, shaking his head with a wry grimace.
Hermione felt her hackles rise from indignation. Never has she met anyone that had a bad word about her school before. She bit her tongue, lest her temper gets the better of her. She'd rather like to hear everything what the foreign gentleman has to say.
"I have heard stories of your school's…reputation. Let us say they only see one side of the coin to see the bigger picture."
"I don't understand."
"Exactly."
"Coo! Coo!" tooted the little dove, hopping over to Mr. Lebedev's folded leg and stared at him as if in reprimand. He simply gave it a flat stare.
"What Maxime means," chimed Mrs. Lebedeva with a pointed look, "is that the general education of your school seems…lacking. Holding back, perhaps?
We understand of course that the educational system in one country will be different from another's, based on culture, weather, needs and wants of the society, and the like.
But considering your country's history, we thought your educators would know better than to withhold pertinent information."
When the Grangers still looked befuddled, Mr. Lebedev broke his staring contest with his feathery adversary and simply stated, "Your Lord Voldemort."
"Well maybe not, your lord," Mrs. Lebedeva clarified, when she noticed Hermione's widened eyes. "We meant the self-proclaimed one. Quite arrogant if you ask me. I doubt it's even a name. More like a title. Ne, koi?"
Mr. Lebedev shrugged, but the slight tick of his brow was duly noted. His wife soothed her hand on his bicep in response to his mild irritation.
"You…said his name. You're not afraid?" Hermione asked tentatively, with a shy tilt of her head, waves of brown hair moving forward, as if to shield her from a negative response.
Mr. Lebedev softened his gaze as he explained, "'Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself'. Your own Headmaster said this in a newspaper interview. We just call him a zhulik, or rogue one. His influence remained mostly in the United Kingdom and its neighbors.
A few were tempted in the Balkans but none further east and north. Various…circumstances made sure of this," he finished with heavy meaning that Hermione isn't sure she has the courage to ask about.
"Our point is, we may need to do more for your training, judging by the state of your curriculum. It's honestly not a good start."
Hermione perked at the word 'training'. Mrs. Lebedeva saw this and smiled. "Miss Granger. I know this is only our second meeting but," here she flapped the papers she held, "I can see your dedication. That could be to your benefit. With your permission," she turned her head to the other couple, "I would like to teach not only our meditation and stamina exercises but some fundamental aspects of magick, which involves anything and everything considered 'dark' and 'light'."
"'Considered'?" asked Cynthia skeptically.
"Wait so, you want to teach our daughter good and evil magic?" asked William with worry.
The proprietress shortly giggled before turning back to Hermione. "Miss Granger, how does magic work?"
"Magic is done both from the innate ability of a person to produce it and their intent to use it," Hermione answered promptly with a straightened back.
"Very well said. If we likened it to the non-magical world, what determines how a person is perceived? How do you know if a person is good or bad?"
"By…their actions?"
Mr. Lebedev interjected. "Not quite. What if I stole food from the market and I gave it to the starving children in the street. Am I evil?"
"…no." came the slow reply. Hermione snapped her head up in realization. "No, you're not. Your actions are illegal by law but your motives, your intent is good."
"Yes. And that is what I meant by your school's reputation. It teaches, practices, and exalts the 'light' arts. In paper, it is ideal. But in real life? It will be a disadvantage.
How can you identify if you are the victim of dark magic if you are not educated enough to know of them? Defense against the Dark Arts is good for protection – as a reaction. But what if you need to be proactive? To plan ahead? To get ahead?"
The fair-haired wizard's voice grew dark at his last words, with an echo that reverberated all throughout the room. A dark shadow suddenly fell around them, slowly engulfing everything except their bodies with suffocating darkness.
Hermione furrowed her brow, concentrating on her magic, recognizing immediately he was testing her.
It…didn't feel dangerous, this aura. Not at all. It just feels...disconcerting. It's impressively subtle casting – no wand, no gesture, no words.
It's marvelously terrifying, his skill level. She felt utterly humbled, feeling her young age in comparison.
Looking over at her parents made it even more apparent that it was safe. Hermione felt like she's watching them through the telly – they paid the darkness no mind at all, continuing to work on finishing their cupcakes, polite but still relaxed. It's as if they're living in a different time, in a different place.
She looked back at Mr. Lebedev, who was taking a long sip of his tea, and studying her reaction in detached interest. Moments later, he seemed to decide.
"If you still wish to be under my wife's wing, depending on your progress and resolve, I may also offer to impart with you some of what I know.
As a comparison, in my former school, we are more flexible and open in all forms of the magical arts, mostly due to necessity. But diverse cultural practices, or socio-economic changes in politics is a factor.
For Miya's, they are more grounded in long-held discipline and tradition. They value the natural and spiritual world.
We can see you're potential, Miss Granger. It would be an honor to see you grow…if you have what it takes," Mr. Lebedev finished with a nod while putting an arm around his wife.
All the Grangers processed this quietly while looking at each other in amazement.
Hermione blushed brightly with a wide grin, comprehending quickly that the prospect of being tutored by not just one, but two intelligent, and likely powerful, individuals is such an extraordinary opportunity. Wandless magic itself is already difficult to perform and people that do it risk volatile results if not done properly. And they executed it like it was nothing!
Knowing also that they were educated in two other schools of magic, it could provide a gateway to so many possibilities that she never thought of before for herself.
Huh. Maybe she should start using the word 'never' less in her daily vocabulary from now on.
She looked up at her parents, rubbing her wrist lightly but with determination set in her eyes.
When they smiled at her with pride and turned to the Lebedevs to relay their consent, she felt more hope than ever before.
I'm better. I will be better.
Author's Note: It's shorter than I expected but I think it ended the way I wanted. The next chapters will focus on the next summer of our sweet wonder boy (yes, I'm calling him that.) I wanted to see where these kids will take us as we see their growth through the summers until the year 1994. (Added a scene during the conversation between the adults and Hermione. I thought to expand on their personality more~)
EDIT 10/11/2020 Requested Translation / Explanation:
Dobroye utro (доброе утро) - 'good morning' in Russian
"An ornamental, hand-hammered brass container was in the center of the tray, with a stout teapot curiously on top of it." - I was describing a Samovar (самовар) - 'self-brewer'. It's widely used in East, Southeast, and Central Europe, as well as some parts of India, and the Middle East.
For Mr. Lebedev, I imagined him as almost 2M (about 6'5" or so) and Mrs. Lebedeva as maybe 1.6M (about 5'3" or so)
'fluffy blue-grey dove with bright ringed eyes' - I was describing a Diamond Dove, another fancy pigeon breed.
Ne, koi? (恋) - 'Right, love?' in Japanese. 'Ne' is more of a filler word actually, but its used in this case as part of a question. Koi is short for Koibito (恋人), which means 'Lover'. Its like 'dear', 'darling', and the like but you can only use this for your special someone. It can't be used to describe anyone you're not close to because it might make you seem rude or a letcher.
Onwards!
Reine