A/N: Getting there!
It was close to nine in the evening when Master Kallas finally dismissed Hermione from the lab. They had been brewing for over eight hours without a break.
She felt bone-weary beyond belief and each foot ascending the stone steps had felt unimaginably heavy, as though she hadn't slept in days. Scrubbing a hand over her face, Hermione yawned unabashedly and grimaced as the muscles in her neck protested. Lifting a heavy arm, she massaged at them slightly, wondering how she could feel so stiff.
With a jolt, images from her busy morning flooded back into her memory and she sighed, recalling her swim and intense hike with a shake of her head. Merlin's beard, that seems like a week ago…
Hermione floated through the darkened villa, too tired to even wave a wand to light the candles scattered throughout. The adrenaline rush that had sustained her toward the end of the session seemed to be dwindling. Her forearms ached from stirring, grinding, and cutting, and her eyes felt as though she had kept them open for the last several days.
Brewing in the round had been a grueling experience, but Hermione couldn't help but feel a niggle of pride at realizing she had survived it. The first few hours had kept her on edge. Fifteen cauldrons split between two brewers wasn't a completely insane feat, but she had been unprepared for how taxing it had been on her mental abilities.
Her mind had been twice as active as her body - balancing each individual brew's needs against time and the others - always thinking two cauldrons down the line to ensure they were being tended to properly. Master Kallas had ensured they kept a clockwise rotation which allowed the two of them to keep moving in a manner that tended to the brews without allowing their bodies to grow stiff.
The largest cauldron holding the Mandrake Restorative Draught had been the most finicky - requiring a hand every thirty seconds to two minutes for nearly five hours until it was left to simmer. It was a complex brew and one she had been eager to try, though she hadn't anticipated having fourteen other cauldrons to oversee at the same time.
Hermione paused on her return to her room at seeing the door to the terrace left ajar.
She frowned.
Eleni and Stelios were nowhere to be seen, though she imagined they were likely out attending to Master Kallas' order from the apothecary, spending time with their families, or seeing to the news outlets. The announcement had rattled everyone and Hermione was surprised to feel rather grateful that Master Kallas was who she was. The letter from the Potions society had at least allowed them to do something useful in response.
As she moved to close the sliding glass door, a fresh breeze passed over her grimy face and Hermione was drawn like a moth to a flame. Outside, the sun had just passed below the horizon, leaving a brilliant watercolor of orange and red above the shimmering sea.
Stepping past the threshold, she saw that the outdoor table was still full of vegetables from the afternoon.
Eleni must not have returned at all.
A glance told her that Master Kallas' stasis charm still held and Hermione passed by, too tired to clean up the mess. She perched on the low adobe wall at the edge of the terrace, shifting a bit to avoid an errant grapevine that snaked up a wooden column to support the pergola. The bright white flagstones leading down to the sea path seemed to beckon invitingly, but Hermione knew that even walking to the low lookout would mean she would end up sleeping there. I'll just sit here for a minute...
She rested quietly, content to revel in the soothing sound of the waves.
The sweet scents of pine and wisteria reached her nostrils. It felt like balm to her overloaded senses which had been assessing various brews through taste, touch, and smell for too many hours. The skin of her face felt both oily and raw from standing over steamy brews, but between the fresh air and cool breeze, Hermione felt herself relaxing slowly.
Her eyes flickered shut and she replayed several images from the session.
Chopping and dicing. There had been a lot of that.
Adding ingredients and watching surfaces bubble, steam, or change color. There had been a lot of watching too.
Master Kallas' amazing demonstration of non-verbal wandless magic as she had prepped the lab. That had been… Wow.
Hermione smiled as the memory returned with full force.
As Master Kallas had shut her eyes and opened her arms to prepare the space, Hermione had felt both a flush of anticipation and sense of intimacy, as though she were bearing witness to something extremely private. A short moment later, her jaw had nearly hit the floor upon watching what felt like the entirety of the lab respond to her master's call.
Cauldrons had soared through the air followed by hundreds of ingredients - everything dancing around each other, filling the space, and eventually settling softly into neatly arranged settings at each of the workbenches. The cauldrons had filled themselves with perfectly portioned amounts of water and the tools had lined themselves up with an invisible hand.
Flames were ignited, and when Master Kallas had lit the hundreds of white candles surrounding the walls, Hermione had been filled with a deep sense of awe and yearning - the same sensation she had felt upon first entering the Great Hall at Hogwarts as a new student. It was an arresting feeling - to truly perceive the potential of magic, as well as to acknowledge a deep-seated need to understand… to know… to be able to conjure and participate in such beauty for herself.
It was a feeling that prickled at the corners of her eyes and Hermione had known she must have looked a complete fool to her master, but the moment had etched itself indelibly onto her heart.
Once again, Hermione Granger had affirmed to herself the enormity and privilege of what it meant to call oneself a witch.
She grinned again, shaking her head at her own silliness. Reaching up, Hermione gently touched her cheeks... realizing with a start that it had been a very long time since she had been filled with happiness from within. Sure, she laughed with Eleni now and then… or would come across something amusing in one of her books… but the warm sensation spreading through her chest was much deeper. This is something I would use for a Patronus.
The realization was slightly startling. Unbidden, Hermione's cheeks flushed as her mind raced ahead and flashed to other memories that suddenly seemed rich and more poignant than they had a few hours earlier…
The soft planes of Master Kallas' face illuminated by the flash of a quickly changing brew - her full lips parted, eyes wide and attentive, one errant curl lingering beneath her left ear…
The comforting presence of Master Kallas' compact frame sliding in to stand flush against her, a gentle arm brushing Hermione's elbow to encourage it to lift by a few centimeters while she stirred…
What is with you? You weren't thinking about Master Kallas like that during the session!
Abruptly, Hermione made a face and stood, taking a big step up to stand on the low wall. She stretched both arms overhead and sighed as they released, feeling a few cracks in her spine.
It was true. She had been entirely focused on their task at the time. A low-key rumble of anxiety had persisted in the pit of her stomach until she had felt her master countering it through their bond. After that, everything had been about time and efficiency. Measurements. Counting stirs.
None of this... mooning over your Master...
But as she shifted weight between her aching feet and looked down toward the sea, Hermione's mind kept drifting back to small details about the witch. The sound of her boots echoing lightly on stone floors. Her lips quirking slightly in approval. Her delicious, natural scent…
Hermione sighed and shook her head, unsure if she felt like grinning like a fool again or closing her eyes and sliding back into the pool of memories that seemed to call to her enticingly…
… Sure dark hands stepping in to relieve Hermione of a small mishap with one of the Awakening Draughts that had received a hair too much honeywater. Un-doing the mistake hadn't been out of her abilities, but there had been two brews to the right that would have been ruined without proper stirring.
Master Kallas had relieved her without a word, somehow managing to communicate her intention for Hermione to continue and reassuring her that everything was under control. Her master's wand automatically left and went to attend to two brews on the other side of the circle by itself. Their communication had been easy, effortless… nice.
Watching the elder witch brew was something that would never grow old, in Hermione's opinion.
Master Kallas oversaw her work with a raw sort of energy that was both entirely professional and entirely personal. She never rushed - instead moving quickly with purpose (Hermione was positive there was a difference). Her seafoam eyes were quick and attentive - able to discern minute changes to brews with well-honed perception that Hermione was only beginning to follow.
Those same eyes also managed to hold some form of emotion… Hermione wasn't sure what to call it. Love seemed a bit strong, but there was a tenderness, a care to the witch's gaze that almost made Hermione envious of the brews she attended...
Hermione chuckled aloud at the thought and quickly inhaled, flushing slightly as she realized she was still standing alone atop the adobe wall.
Smooth.
Now you're cackling to yourself… Hermione sniffed wryly. What a witch.
She jumped down and looked around.
By now the sky had deepened to a rich greenish-blue near the horizon while an inky indigo spread itself overhead, lightly dotted with several stars. The sea still stirred gently below and Hermione sighed again as she gazed out over the darkened waters, feeling a familiar wave of freedom, nostalgia, and longing. For the millionth time since she had arrived on Naxos, Hermione felt a blanket of reassurance wash over her.
Strange you should feel so secure when there are terrible things happening on the other side of the world…
The thought elicited a small shiver, but another sweeping glance of her surroundings quelled the insecurity. No. The villa was Secret-Kept and Naxos was entirely out of the way. She was safe.
In fact, if she were being entirely honest with herself, Hermione felt far safer on the island than she had ever felt at Hogwarts.
Especially after the War…
She closed her eyes again against flashes of the horror that were too quick to jump to the surface of her mind. They were always there. Lurking just out of sight at the edges of her thoughts. Images of her home and refuge crumbling down around her. Spells tearing the walls apart. Bright flashes of red and green.
Hermione shuddered.
Voldemort had made it entirely apparent that while Hogwarts was indeed a magical stronghold, it was by no means infallible. Her efforts in the repairs had made that doubly clear. A castle - even a magical one - could be torn asunder and be reduced to bricks and mortar.
No. For now, Naxos was much safer. Here, she was practically invisible to the rest of the world and it gave her time to assemble her own defenses, build her skills and knowledge, and recraft herself into a witch able to fend for herself.
Clenching her jaw, Hermione took a deep inhale and willed herself to cut the spark of anxiety that had flared in the pit of her stomach.
She was safe.
She was learning.
And most importantly, she would never be caught off guard or unprepared again.
Never.