A/N: This is a bit of a transition chapter, but I anticipate the next few will begin to grow longer, similar to the last one.
Dia's wand vibrated noisily on the bedside table, drawing her out of a heavy sleep much earlier than her body desired. Stifling a groan, she stretched - feeling the stiffness of her muscles and a the dull ache of much older and deeper pains that resonated more acutely in protest of the early hour.
Casting a tempus, she saw it was a little after five. Six hours should have been plenty…
Sitting up slowly and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Dia felt a pounding sensation in her temples and realized that six hours clearly weren't. Grimacing, she summoned a small blue bottle and knocked it back like a shot of ouzo. Abruptly, the vice-like grip of an impending headache dissolved and she felt herself blinking with a bit more clarity.
The events of the night previous slowly filtered into place and Dia found herself scrubbing a hand over her face indelicately as she recalled the impetus for her rather sudden departure. That witch…
Dia sniffed lightly in amusement.
Hermione, in all her transparent Gryffindor glory, somehow managed to remain unpredictable at the least convenient moments. She wasn't sure if the young witch's actions and reactions were truly that instantaneous or if she possessed a burgeoning streak of serpentry that was slow to emerge. Either way, she would have to remain more alert.
Sighing, Dia rose, wincing as several joints popped in protest. She padded over to the windows and shifted the curtains, taking in the greyish hue of the morning light and the choppy slate grey waters churning down below. Ominous black clouds hung low over the sea as they rolled in from the west.
It looked like an early morning swim would be out of the question.
Yoga, then.
Lifting her thin nightdress over her head, Dia banished it to the hamper in the bathroom and stepped down from the main bedchamber clad in only white cotton underwear. She strode over to the french doors that opened to the covered veranda and stepped outside.
She shivered slightly, her nipples hardening in response to the bracing chill of the morning air. Her nose detected the familiar briny salt of the sea and the impending freshness of rain as she unfurled her mat and cast a warming charm upon it. Her body ached and every fiber in her being wanted to crawl back into bed and burrow into the warm covers, but Dia simply spread her toes and took her stance at the front of her mat overlooking the dark water.
No excuses.
She inhaled deeply, feeling her lungs take in the fresh air and her mind begin to open to her practice. Her eyes fluttered shut and she pressed both palms together in front of her sternum. She began to quiet her mind - tucking stray thoughts into place the way she would tidy errant items scattered about a clean room.
Dia took a few more deep breaths, feeling the muscles in her abdominals and back begin to expand in response.
As she lifted her arms to the side, the skies opened and it began to rain.
Minerva was pleased to note that breakfast was a subdued affair following her rather grandiose oration from the night before.
The Daily Prophet had been delivered and received in a calm manner, and a quick glance through the morning edition indicated that there hadn't been any new developments to incite further panic.
Students spoke quietly amongst themselves and Minerva's attentive gaze was quick to detect a few heated debates, but nothing that seemed to indicate trouble. The other professors floated in and out of the Great Hall as they attended to their morning routines, but beyond the customary exchange of pleasantries, Minerva had largely been left to her own thoughts.
As she mused over the events of the last several days, Minerva acknowledged that she was quite proud of her staff.
All of the professors had taken the unexpected news of the ISOS violations in stride, asking attentive questions and quickly working together to restructure the needs of the school between them as Minerva and Filius had communicated their responsibilities to the ICW. She had been quite pleased that the two newest professors on staff had been quick to step in and offer to take extra rounds and cover their colleagues classes as needed.
Hestia Jones had proved to be an immediate hit amongst students who seemed to receive her youthful style and unorthodox approaches to D.A.D.A. with apparent relish. Although she was, of course, an alumna of Hogwarts, Minerva had come to appreciate the younger witch during a few longer operations they had shared together on behalf of the Order.
Unlike the stiffness she customarily found herself relying upon when interacting with past students, Hestia had an easy-going manner that Minerva found refreshing. The witch had graduated the Auror Academy with honors before rerouting her career and stepping into a logistics position within the Ministry that she had maintained throughout the War. She was a talented witch both in the field and in the briefing room and Minerva had been quite pleased to have her rather broad skillset on faculty.
On the other hand, Talfryn Hawtrey had been an unexpected and last-minute find, but Minerva and the rest of the staff had been quick to welcome his dry-wit and dependable presence with enthusiasm. The middle-aged Welsh wizard had emerged from a rather impressive research project in Mali just in time to rescue Minerva from having to teach Transfiguration and attend to her duties as Headmistress. His first year at Hogwarts had been a baptism by fire, but despite his lack of concentrated teaching experience, Talfryn had risen to the occasion admirably and had quickly developed a reputation for being as hard to please as Minerva herself.
Both Talfryn and Hestia had been thrilled to return a second year and despite the short nature of both their appointments, Minerva was already leaning toward offering the both of them longer contracts. Their work ethic and commitment to the students was inspired and she was impressed by how quickly her entire faculty had meshed together to create a more united front than she could ever recall.
Unity had been an elusive element amongst the professors of Hogwarts during the War and Minerva had been hellbent on creating a more open and inclusive atmosphere as soon as she had taken the Headmistress' oath.
While every community shared their difficult moments, it seemed, for the moment, that the current changes to staffing and several roundtable sessions with her colleagues had developed a more trusting connection between all of them. The tenured faculty were still working through a number of unspoken stumbling blocks that had slowly arisen over the last decade, but for the moment Minerva had been pleased to see everyone respond positively to the subtle shift in energy that her two new charges had brought with them.
Minerva's gaze slid to the right where the two professors in question were speaking quietly over breakfast.
Hestia was chuckling lightly at something the stately silver-haired wizard was saying, her cheeks flushed in mirth as she swatted his arm lightly. She blinked in surprise. The witch and wizard were angled toward each other subtly, not close enough to be misconstrued as unprofessional, but Minerva wondered when she had missed the development of the obvious chemistry bubbling before her. There must be at least forty years between them, she mused quietly.
Another glance saw Talfryn's blue eyes light up in as he covered a laugh by stroking his trademark silver goatee. Doubtless his characteristically dry humor had met its match with Hestia. From experience, Minerva knew that Hestia was whimsical at best and groan-inducing at worst. The witch loved puns and had a mouth like a sailor, rivaling even Rolanda for her use of inventive expletives. A moment later, Minerva's eyes caught Poppy's sparkling ones at the end of the table, and she knew that her own suspicions were echoed.
Still...
Minerva turned back to her breakfast and smiled thoughtfully, tamping down the wistful tendrils of emotion that suddenly sought to wind their way through her chest.
… What an unexpectedly beautiful match.
She sighed and let her eyes rake across the House tables.
Casting a tempus, Minerva checked the time before quickling polishing off her toast and bidding a good morning to her colleagues. The students parted before her as she made her way out of the Great Hall, mind already moving a thousand meters a minute as she mentally prepared for her meeting with Filius.
They had both received a more detailed itinerary for their impending visit to Atlantis. Portkeys had arrived, indicating their immediate departure to the Central Agora of Aetherion at exactly nine the following morning. The session was projected to last all day with a two hour break in the middle during which constituents were strongly encouraged to remain upon the island. Minerva had noted with amusement that in very fine print it was written that their Portkeys would ensure they would be summoned back in a timely manner should they wish to break elsewhere.
As elegant and visually-impressive as Aetherion was, it wasn't the most comfortable city. She would have to consider where to recess.
Minerva's thoughts were rudely interrupted as she flattened herself against the wall, nearly blindsided by a black blur whipping around the corner. The second-year skidded to a stop, a rushed apology dying on her lips as she looked up and paled at seeing just who she had nearly knocked over.
"Five points from Ravenclaw, Miss Rowntree. Should you wish to enjoy life as a cheetah, I suggest you attend to your studies with the same single-minded attention you appear to give to running. Perhaps your Animagus form will oblige," she snapped disapprovingly.
The girl stumbled a bit as she backed away with wide-eyes.
"I'm sorry, Headmistress!"
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Walk, Rowntree."
Still shaking her head, Minerva resumed her journey, albeit at a slightly quicker pace. They get younger and younger…
A few minutes later, she arrived to the gargoyle standing guard outside her office and walked toward it at full tilt, lips suppressing a smile as the stone creature had to rush to accommodate her.
She wasn't afforded many amusements as Headmistress, but she would take what she could get.
Hermione's conscious mind floated up to the surface slowly, rising from the peaceful depths of slumber reluctantly. Dimly, she registered the soothing sound of rain pattering quietly on the windowpanes.
A light hand threaded its way through her curls gently, passing over her forehead and soothing the pucker between her brows as she fought to remain tethered to the comforting embrace of sleep. A soft muttering of words seemed to encourage her waking.
"Mmmm," was the only response she could manage. Her ears pricked as a light, musical chuckle resounded close by and she turned her face slightly, wanting to breathe in the sweet scent of tea tree and eucalyptus that wafted gently toward her nose.
Her eyes parted of their own accord and Hermione frowned, at once aware of the unpleasant cold morning light. A moment later, a familiar presence seemed to block it and she twisted toward it unconsciously, her arms and torso wrapping around something warm and solid.
"Come, darling. The day awaits."
Hermione blinked and her eyes telescoped in on ivory linen fibers resting a few inches from her nose. Shifting to take in more of the image, her eyes traveled upward, registering several soft curves, a thin band of elegant Greek key that separated the linen from a luminous expanse of dark skin and sweeping collarbones, and finally the beautiful features of her master who was gazing down at her with a tender expression.
With a moan, Hermione drew herself closer, pulling herself into the witch's lap even further before comprehension shot through her and she was sitting up quickly, scuttling backwards, and pulling her blanket over her in embarrassment. Good Godric!
"Kaliméra," Master Kallas said softly, her features breaking into a smile.
She was sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed, already impeccably dressed in artfully folded robes and propped on one arm as she gazed at Hermione with a tilt of her head. The witch's curls were pulled back into a rather elegant twist, and at once, Hermione became acutely aware of her own disheveled appearance - her own hair likely rivaling the Devil's Snare, and her simple cotton tank top and boxer shorts rumpled from sleep.
"'Morning," she managed, wincing slightly as she attempted to absorb the strange wake-up call. Where is Eleni anyway?
Typically, the House Elf rapped on her door if there was a special reason for her to rise early. As far as Hermione could remember, Master Kallas had never been in her rooms aside from the first day when she had given Hermione a tour of the villa.
"Eleni and Stelios will be away for the remainder of the week," Master Kallas informed her, reading Hermione's thoughts as usual. "I apologize for having to wake you, but we have a great deal of work to accomplish this morning."
Hermione opened her mouth to reply but quickly closed it, wincing slightly as she nodded instead. Merlin, you probably have morning breath!
Master Kallas smiled sympathetically, likely mistaking her embarrassment for discomfort. She shifted, reaching into a pocket to withdraw a small blue bottle.
"Take this," she said, handing it over. Must be an awakening potion of some sort…
Dutifully, Hermione removed the stopper, sniffed its contents and knocked it back quickly, noting the pleasant fizzing sensation as it slid down her throat and the smooth taste of peppermint and sweet cream. A moment later, her senses seemed to sharpen and the aches and pains she hadn't even registered seemed to fade away. She felt remarkably rejuvenated.
"What was that?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity. Master Kallas smiled brightly, picking up her robes and rising gracefully from Hermione's bedside.
"Something of my own creation. A blend of several brews meant to simultaneously awaken and soothe a tired body," she replied, moving back slightly. Momentarily panicked, Hermione's gaze quickly raked the darkened room, relaxing a moment later when she realized she had tidied up the space before going to sleep. Thank gods…
"The hour draws close to half past six. I have a few matters to attend to before preparing the lab - I suggest you take the next twenty minutes to finish your morning ablutions and eat breakfast," Master Kallas said, light eyes narrowing as her gaze moved past Hermione to the storm currently casting itself upon the windows with ardor. A distant roll of thunder resounded in the distance.
"Can I watch you prepare everything?" Hermione asked eagerly, recalling the impressive demonstration of magic from yesterday. Seafoam eyes flickered back to hers.
"Regretfully, most of the lab remains in place from yesterday's session… however should it please you, I will await your presence and you may watch the assembly of the orders we finished yesterday," Master Kallas said, already moving to the door. Hermione nodded, slightly disappointed that the grand mise en place wouldn't be repeated.
At the threshold, Master Kallas turned and sent Hermione a playful smile. "And Apprentice... as we will be making a trip to Athens immediately after our session, I suggest taking a few extra moments on your hair."
Hermione flushed and as soon as her master had shut the door, she bolted out of bed and ran to check her reflection in the bathroom. Groaning, she saw her curls literally standing on end - floating around her face in an amorphous and rather unattractive halo. Rowena's Left Tit! You look like the sour end of a blast-ended skrewt!
Fuming silently, Hermione quickly turned on the shower and grabbed both bottles of her master's homemade shampoo and conditioner. After one more glare at her reflection, she swiped a smaller bottle of argan oil and set it out for later.
If her hair was measuring the baseline, hopefully events would improve.