A/N: Working quickly! Sorry this one's a bit short, but we'll be getting to the good stuff soon.
Upon returning to the villa, Hermione had been surprised to realize that the hour was still early.
Only ten thirty?
She had pushed herself much harder than she thought.
Well, good. More time to left to accomplish the rest of her goals.
Today was her day.
Arriving to the kitchen, Hermione shucked off her sweaty shorts and shoes and banished them to her room before spying a plateful of fresh fruit and a protein shake. Suddenly ravenous, she marched over and was in the middle of reaching for a peach when a sharp crack off her left elbow startled her.
"Holy Helga, Eleni! Watch where you park yourself!" she exclaimed, glaring slightly at the Elf's subtle smirk. She could be worse than Peeves when she wanted.
Eleni glided behind her and re-apparated with another crack, this time sitting on the counter next to Hermione's food, her thin legs dangling as she smiled mischievously.
"You'll not win your witch by exhausting yourself, Apprentice," she said silkily. Trust Eleni not to beat around the bush.
"Who said I'm trying to exhaust myself?" Hermione replied innocently before taking a swig of the protein shake.
Chocolate banana. Her tastebuds sang. As difficult as she is, Eleni's the best.
"Careful, witch. If you work too hard there will be no room for pleasure." The last word was tossed off in a sing-song voice as Eleni hopped down and disappeared behind the kitchen's center island. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"And what would you know about that, Elf?" she retorted with more bravado than she felt. A blush was creeping its way up the front of her chest as her mind heedlessly flashed to Master Kallas' frozen expression and parted lips from a few hours earlier. Large green eyes suddenly glared at her from across the room.
"From the look on your face, I daresay I know a bit more than you!"
The glare dissolved into a high-pitched girlish giggle and Hermione felt her face redden with full force. Groaning, she shifted and leaned against the counter, putting her face in her hands. Merlin, sometimes I am such a child!
As if reading her mind, Eleni trotted over and gazed up at her with a half-sympathetic, half-amused expression.
"Hush, young one. You are here to learn and learn you shall," she said kindly. "Just be patient. Anticipation is half the game."
Hermione looked down at her friend and grabbed a few grapes to munch on mulishly. There were times she would give anything to shed what seemed to be a permanent aura of naiveté. I'm destined to be a cub forever.
A moment later, the Eleni swatted her leg.
"But tire yourself out and you'll be the only one to blame come the Master's return!" She batted her eyes dramatically and dodged the grape the Hermione indignantly threw her way. Cackling loudly she snapped her fingers and disapparated with another loud crack that left Hermione's ears ringing.
Incorrigible.
Forty-three years, my ass. I swear she's thirteen.
Huffing, Hermione marched off to her room to shower and change.
Dia was in the middle of inspecting Ana's inventory records when the owl arrived.
"Theia, this is for you," her niece's pale hand appeared before her holding a letter before retreating back into her office. Frowning, Dia plucked it from her fingers gently and quickly opened it upon recognizing the familiar green and gold seal. But what…?
Her heart stilled as she read the elegant emerald script. There hasn't been a quorum in nearly six decades!
"Ana… forgive me. I must return home," she said slowly, eyes still absorbing the last of letter's shocking contents. Hermione. Her niece's burnished red curls appeared from around the corner. Without looking, Dia knew there would be a crease between those flashing hazel eyes.
"So soon? But I wished for you to see -"
"I must leave at once, darling," she interrupted smoothly leaving no room for argument. "We shall have to reschedule." As she tucked the letter into her robes she caught her niece's expression. Ana frowned slightly, quickly reading her aunt's body language. Her soft linen robes whispered quietly as she stepped forward, both hands grasping one of her Dia's.
"What has happened, theia?" Her niece was nearly thirty years of age, but something in the soft question made Dia's heart clench.
She closed her eyes for a moment against the memory that threatened to resurface…
That same voice, much higher… more innocent… with the soft lisp of a child.
What has happened, theia?
Dia opened her eyes and attempted to summon a reassuring expression.
"I am not sure, darling," she replied honestly. Dia removed her hand from her niece's grasp and placed it upon her shoulder even as she felt her own expression cloud. "But please keep a close watch on friends and family. I fear something terrible has happened…"
Ana's almond eyes widened and she nodded silently, biting her lip. Dia brought her other hand to her niece's smooth cheek, rubbing a thumb across it gently before stepping forward and bestowing two sweeping kisses.
"I love you, darling. We will speak soon."
"Severus? A word, please."
After a long moment, the scowling face of Minerva's former Potions colleague drifted into his portrait frame. Even in death, Severus was elusive.
"Yes?" he drawled, somehow managing to look entirely bored even in oil brushstrokes. Minerva refused to baited. She stood her ground and gazed up at him evenly.
"It did not escape me earlier… your realization during my conversation with Filius. About the second event in Russia."
"Your capacity for observation is astute as ever, Minerva," he sneered, looking down his long nose at her. Rather than responding, she chose to wait. When it became clear that her intention was serious, Severus sat back slightly, fixing her with a pensive expression.
"The westernmost sanctuary of St. Basil's Cathedral in St. Petersburg possesses similar symbolic significance to the façades of the Sagrada Familia. You mentioned its collapse when the domes were replaced by iron," it was a half-question and she nodded.
Lifting his chin Severus continued, "The western compass point is dedicated to the entry of Christ into Jerusalem…" He trailed off to see if she understood the reference.
Lips pursed, Minerva nodded slowly, already thinking.
Again, a coincidence at first glance, Minerva saw Severus' intuitive leap and was inwardly impressed. According to many veins and offshoots of the Abrahamic religions, the end of the world would herald the arrival of a new messiah who would enter into the holy city of Jerusalem and usher in the World-to-Come. Another metaphor for death.
It was a leap, but better to divine symbolism where none existed than to underestimate the threat before them. Severus' silken tones drew her out of her ruminations and back to the questions at hand.
"- the use of iron could also be a subtle nod to the work of Death Eaters during the First War," he was saying. Minerva's eyes narrowed.
Thus far, everyone had avoided any mention of Death Eaters, but she was sure that everyone's first thought had been to comb the landscape for any remaining or former sympathizers. The five events had not occurred in Great Britain however and she was caught in remaining hopeful that it was an entirely external threat.
"You recognize the spell?" she asked. Severus nodded, one hand coming to rub his chin thoughtfully.
"It may be a cousin, however the use of iron was a rather crude invention utilized on Muggle sympathizers at the outset of Voldemort's rise to power. Antonin Dolohov's paramour, Valdis Shafiq was first responsible for its application. She was known for trapping her victims in compromising situations and then casting the spell to encasing them in iron, either leading to their death by compression or death by drowning."
Minerva nodded, keeping her expression relatively neutral. Inside, she shuddered. Iron itself was not such an unusual element, however its symbolism held a complicated relationship to the world of magic.
During the Dark Ages and before the ISOS, witches and wizards were imprisoned and threatened with burning iron stakes, chains, and a host of other unfortunate concoctions that Muggles had developed for torture. As a result, iron was a considered an unrefined and rather crude metal and the majority of cauldrons, fastenings, and other supports used in Wizarding craft, alchemy, and architecture were of other materials.
"Who would know of its usage?" Minerva asked, folding her arms carefully. Her sternum was beginning to ache again. Severus shrugged.
"Death Eaters, obviously. Families of former victims. Clerks responsible for death certificates." He rattled off ideas in a drawl and Minerva suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. For every helpful moment, Severus had to undo it with sheer cheek.
"Fine, I understand. Common knowledge. Thank you for your time, Severus," she said swiftly, already moving back towards her desk.
"My pleasure," he replied and Minerva knew by the time she turned around he would already be gone. Distantly, she wondered where his other portrait hung and wherelse he saw fit to travel. From what she observed, he was nearly always away and roaming. Just like Severus…
Settling in at her desk, Minerva pushed her spectacles up a bit higher and sighed.
The emergency ICW conference was scheduled for Wednesday, November 17th.
Just two days away.
Filius and I will be here all night… she thought ruefully.
Casting a tempus Minerva saw the hour was quickly drawing close to dinnertime. She would have to make a point to attend meals over the next two days, as the next few days would be fraught with tension until she left for the conference. As Headmistress, she had a duty to remain strong in the face of adversity.
There was also the chance that the Prophet would release an evening addition of the day's international events, and if so, she wanted to be prepared. There would be no raucous or hysterical behavior on her watch.
Hogwarts had seen an increase in foreign student attendance following the defeat of Voldemort, and she wouldn't see their students agitated needlessly nor their international reputation marred by distress.
Returning to her papers, Minerva penned a letter that would be copied and released to all families following the international news of the ISOS violations.
As they had endured both wars, Hogwarts would remain a steadfast sanctuary for any and all in need.