A/N: Sorry for the break in posts! Needed some time to regroup and sort through new ideas... I promise the coming chapters will review a lot of the structural plot points that came before.

This one's a bit short, but enjoy! More to come soon!

Harry arrived in the kitchen to find George and Percy sitting at the table wearing matching bleary-eyed expressions.

After the Order meeting, he, Ron, and Ginny had elected to return to The Burrow where everyone had argued late into the night - rehashing points from the meeting and discussing additional reconnaissance options that could be effected in the coming weeks. Gawain and Wickleffe had stopped by for a while, providing a good number of ideas and helping to make a large dent in several cases of butterbeer before departing together just after midnight.

It seemed that everyone had been in agreement that the hazy and seemingly incongruous world events that Headmistress McGonagall had elucidated were puzzling, yes… but frustrating in a terrifying way that left Harry with a strange sense of dejá vú. It was almost the same feeling he had experienced nearly two years previous - tasked by Dumbledore to find the Horcruxes and destroy Voldemort - only this time, it felt like they had even less of a final picture to work toward.

"'Morning dear. Grab a plate… 'xpect Ginny will be down shortly."

Molly Weasley appeared off his elbow to press a warm kiss against his cheek and Harry flushed lightly, murmuring a greeting as he scrubbed a hand through his hair and slid in across from George.

"Sleep well, Harry?" Arthur Weasley strode through the door and pressed a kiss to his wife's head before sitting down at his customary spot at the head of the table and filching a plate from the pile.

"Actually yeah," he replied with a little bit of surprise. Despite the heavy conversation he and Ron had whispered into the darkness before falling asleep, Harry was surprised at how good he felt.

"Good, because we need to talk."

Harry froze, suddenly completely awake and acutely aware of both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's presence in the kitchen.

Oh Merlin... Please let this not be about me and Ginny...

"I was impressed by your offer to reinstate Grimmauld Place as an Order safehouse," Arthur began, piling his plate high with sausage and eggs. Harry felt an instant wave of relief pass through him even as the older wizard sent him a knowing look of amusement. He fought not to blush.

Fortunately, Arthur pressed on.

"I knew that you guys have been working diligently on the renovations, but d'you really think it'll be complete by the first of the year?"

Harry blinked.

"Uh… yeah, I do. Kreacher's been loads of help of course, but honestly I think we've managed all of the structural overhauls by this point. Ginny wants to repaint the upstairs bedrooms next week and Gawain says he has a friend who might be able to work some Architectural enchantments into the works to add another level of rooms, but basically everything is coming together really well," Harry replied easily, helping himself to a generous portion of eggs and toast.

"Good, because I was thinking that it would be helpful to have a neutral location on hand for the Order to use in the coming weeks and months. I have a feeling we're going to need it," Arthur said even as Percy nodded grimly and Molly sighed.

"D'you need any extra hands?"

George was peering at him curiously and something in the expression told Harry not to refuse. Briefly he wondered if his friend was simply searching for something else to distract himself.

"Sure, anytime. I've been spending my Monday and Thursday mornings there before classes and we've been going there on the weekends too, though you're welcome at any time. I'll tell Kreacher to look out for you - he can explain more about the different projects if you happen to go when we're not there."

"'e's been a right help, that one," a sleepy voice yawned. Harry turned and saw Ron entering the kitchen, his hair sticking out in all directions.

"Kreacher's completely chuffed with all the work we've given 'im. Reckon he hasn't felt this useful in decades."

"Anyway, Harry - you need any help, don't hesitate to ask," Arthur said, giving him a smile. "I can imagine Minerva would also grateful if we could reinstate Grimmauld Place sooner rather than later."

"If there's anything any of us can do for that witch don't hesitate to mention it, for that matter," Molly piped in, shaking her head slightly. She puttered around near the prep table with assorted vegetables that Harry assumed would make a later appearance at either lunch or dinner.

"Merlin knows that the woman will run herself into the ground before letting another War slip into her backyard."

The quiet mutter was nearly lost in the abundance of kitchen sounds, though Harry was surprised by the note of pity he heard in the witch's voice.

"Sorry, but what d'you mean by that?" Harry asked curiously, feeling like there was more to the comment that he needed to hear. He was still getting used to the idea of Minerva McGonagall leading the Order at all.

Molly turned in surprise, expression immediately falling slightly and she shook her head again.

"Minerva will never forgive herself for having let Hogwarts serve as the site of the Final Battle. And while she's never said as much aloud, I'm sure she still feels a measure of guilt for not having done more to thwart Voldemort's plans during the final year of the War," Molly replied, her green eyes rather sad.

"But that's ridiculous… we won! Hogwarts was rebuilt! And even though Severus was there as Headmaster for the final year of the war, Neville said that Professor McGonagall went out of her way to keep students safe. I expect Dumbledore wanted her in place because he knew what would happen if there was no one there to help keep up morale," Harry said, quickly growing irate. Why should she feel guilty?

"True… but I think there was also a larger part of Minerva that felt she should have inherently known Dumbledore's plan even if he didn't spell it out for her. And undoubtedly she was hurt by his perceived lack of trust in her abilities… I think she took it rather personally that she had to find out the entire story of you and Severus and the final plans after the fact alongside everyone else," Molly said, her lips twisting into a sad smile.

"But he never set out to deceive her purposefully! He just knew that we were the ones to finish the job!" Harry retorted, pushing his plate away.

"I know, Harry. But think about it from her perspective… she was Albus' Deputy for nearly four decades. They were obviously quite close for a number of years during her apprenticeship and practically attached at the hip afterward - even when Diamantina was there from what I hear," Arthur paused to sip his coffee, his expression pensive.

"And not to detract from the significance of Albus' trust in you, but I imagine it came as a shock to her when the three of you left Hogwarts to complete a secret mission to destroy Voldemort without her knowledge. Three teenagers going against one of the most powerful villains in our history and the woman heralded as 'The Most Powerful Witch of our Age' was left on the sidelines? A bit preposterous, if you ask me. Minerva has taken on some of the most powerful Dark witches and wizards in the country and survived to tell the tale. She's a three time war veteran and yet Dumbledore kept his plans secret from everyone except you and Severus. That had to hurt."

Harry mulled over that for a moment - at once indignant to think that the Headmistress could have taken Dumbledore's plans so personally, but then… how could she not? Though his ego had folded slightly at the mention of the Headmistress' prowess in comparison to theirs, rationally, Harry knew that the Weasley's were right.

Still, it didn't help when Ron chipped in.

"Yeah, mate. Hermione even said that she had Dumbledore's portrait banished from the Head's office for most of the reconstruction," Ron mumbled into his coffee, giving Harry a sad look. "I reckon she probably felt betrayed."

"I… guess I never thought about her role in things," Harry said softly, at once feeling wave of guilt. Ron clapped him on the back, already seeing through to his wave of irrational emotion. Not everything is your responsibility...

"Well it's certainly not your fault, Harry," Molly said kindly, giving voice to the inner mantra that Harry had been trying to pound into his head at the Academy. She dumped a few more fresh sausages onto a plate in the middle of the table. "Dumbledore burnt a lot of bridges with his scheming."

"Minerva was never one to let bad blood spoil her sense of integrity. I don't doubt that it must've taken awhile for her Scottish temper to die down but I hardly imagine she would be calling the Order together without having engaged in some discussion with Dumbledore's portrait. They were best friends… you don't just give that up," Arthur said kindly, reaching out to clap Harry's forearm.

There was a moment of quiet silence as he mulled over those words… still smarting at how obvious it was that Minerva McGonagall had been slighted by the one wizard that Harry still held in the highest esteem. But still... could Harry ever imagine keeping a secret of such magnitude from Ron or Hermione? And if he did, would they ever forgive him?

It hurt to think that Dumbledore could have been so cruel to the Headmistress… though privately Harry still had difficulty imagining the elegant witch as being all that Mr. Weasley said she was. He had seen snatches of her dueling during the Final Battle and it was clear that the woman was an experienced dueler, but somehow Harry still didn't understand why everyone kept heralding her as the "Most Powerful Witch of Her Age."

She was just Professor McGonagall…

Scary as hell? Yes.

Intimidating? Yes.

But truly powerful?

"Speaking of friends, what'd you guys think about seeing Hermione last night?" Arthur asked, interrupting his thoughts and brightening even as Harry and Ron looked up.

"Merlin, had I known she would grow into such a gorgeous witch, I woulda been on- oww! Shite! Ron!"

George's statement was cut short by a flying piece of toast, lobbed by Ron whose expression was looking rather dark. Molly Weasley quickly snapped admonishments toward the both of them.

"Don't speak about her like that! Have you no class!?" Ron roared, leaping to his feet. Both Arthur and Percy wore matching expressions of surprise even as Harry simply sighed and tugged his friend back into his seat.

Sometimes Ron was still so predictable.

George grumbled but simply plunked his elbows down on the table.

"She looked great, that's for sure," Harry said firmly, barring any further argument. "I was hoping we would get a chance to speak with her longer but she and her master left in a hurry."

"Well that was always Diamantina," Molly sniffed derisively. "Forever obeying her own agenda."

"Did you know her during the first Order?" Harry asked curiously even as Arthur sent him a small gesture that indicated not to ask any more questions. He immediately sank back as Molly's dishtowel whipped out of nowhere, her robes nearly snapping Harry in the face as she reached over the table to grab an empty plate.

"Yes," Molly snapped, turning on heel and marching to the sink. Harry and Ron exchanged matching bewildered looks. Arthur sighed, giving in to the expressions of curiosity surrounding him.

"Diamantina was always an enigmatic woman, though even as Minerva's apprentice she was remarkably outspoken and quick-witted," he explained, one hand absently smearing jam on his toast. "Used to drive Minerva crazy during meetings… I swear, nearly every session would conclude with them in the hallway with Diamantina receiving a harsh dressing down for her cheek. It's almost funny that she would be so demanding of Hermione to uphold the old Mastery traditions as it appears."

Arthur chuckled and took a bite, waving his toast as he gave the table a meaningful look.

"At the same time she was sharp. And I mean sharp. Brilliant strategist - she and Dumbledore could riff off each other for hours - expounding on different possibilities and angles with which to view a certain plan or mission. But no matter the play, Minerva was always there to cut to the heart of things and set them straight. They made a good team, they did. Almost like the two of you and Hermione," Arthur said, lifting his chin to look at Harry and Ron who were listening with interest.

"Yes, a brilliant strategist. So far-sighted in her goals that she never minded the occasional loss of life!" Molly interjected, spinning at the sink to nearly spit the words out. Harry's eyes widened, surprised to hear such venom in the woman's voice as she glared at her husband. Even George and Percy seemed surprised.

"Molly," Arthur chided loudly, turning to fix his wife with a look. The table was silent as the pair seemed to hold a short conversation in meaningful looks before Molly deflated somewhat and turned back to the sink, though she seemed to be wielding her Scourgify with an extra amount of vehemence.

Arthur sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair to wipe his mouth with a napkin even as he stared toward his plate unseeingly.

"Was I the only one who imagined it when it sounded as though the Headmistress had invited Hermione and her master to listen only?" Harry asked, voicing the question that had been burning since the night before.

He felt Ron shift next to him slightly.

Hermione had been one of the few subjects they avoided talking about the night before.

"Well, I know that Diamantina resides in Greece… that's not exactly our neighbor here, though I'm sure it wouldn't be much of a stretch for either her or Minerva to coordinate between countries. At the moment, I imagine she only attended for Hermione's benefit and that Minerva was leaving the open statement as a courtesy to Diamantina and Hermione's contract," Arthur replied quietly, giving Harry and Ron a searching look.

"Whud'you think?" Ron asked, folding his elbows on the table and nudging him slightly. Harry was both surprised and unsurprised to see that his friend's plate was already clean.

"I dunno. It's Hermione. On one hand I can totally see her dropping everything to come back. On the other…" Harry trailed off and shrugged.

"She might want to finish her apprenticeship," Ron finished, grimacing slightly at the thought of their friend remaining wherever it was that she was studying. Somewhere in Greece… never would figured her to end up there.

"Rationally, it would make the most sense for her to finish her studies," Percy said, sitting forward slightly and earning a glare from Ron. He opened his hands beseechingly.

"Hear me out. At the moment we have little information about the big picture… it could be weeks before anything comes of our intelligence. Or it could be months. While you both are able to chip in elsewhere due to your involvement with Gawain and Wickleffe, if Hermione were to return to now, what would she do? Take a low-end job at the Ministry? Freelance?" Percy paused and shrugged lightly even as Harry fought not to acknowledge how much the wizard's words made sense.

"It would be better for her to stay and finish through at least her second classifications before returning. At least then she would have a better shot for jobs that could actually advance her career. And from what else I've heard, it sounds like her master is pretty well-known for her dueling abilities. I can't imagine she would leave Hermione unprepared in the meantime," Percy said, folding inward slightly as he turned back to his plate.

Harry briefly felt a flash of guilt at recognizing how subdued Percy had become after the War. I need to work on growing past my first impressions...

"Y'know, I hate to admit it but Perce is right," George said, leaning forward. "Hermione would hate to be here and be unable to pitch in to the fullest extent of her abilities because of red tape or some other kind of bull. And if she were to interrupt her training now, it would be pretty hard for her to restart her apprenticeship later."

Ron sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair again, sending more tufts straight up even as Arthur gave his son a sympathetic look. Harry's lips twisted as he had to acknowledge everyone's logic.

"I have no doubt that Hermione will pitch in as she can," Arthur said quietly. "And Diamantina is an honorable woman for all her controversy. If Hermione wants to help, I have no doubt that she will restructure everything to make it possible."

Molly sniffed loudly from the sink but Arthur ignored her. I wonder what happened to make Mrs. Weasley so biased…

"Well it's already promising that the witch volunteered for the reconnaissance mission in Guatemala," George put in, giving Ron and Harry a half smile. "Can't imagine that they haven't talked about the possibility if Hermione's master was so quick to jump forward on the Order's behalf."

Harry nodded at that, feeling marginally better at the thought. At least her master seemed to be putting forth an effort...

"Yeah… just wish we'd gotten a chance to talk to 'Mione alone," Ron replied glumly.

For a moment the conversation lulled and the ambient sound was ruled by knives clanking and the quiet running of water in the kitchen sink.

"I think I'm gonna to write Hermione a letter after breakfast if you wanna put something in," Harry said eventually even as Ron shrugged absently. "I at least want to let her know that I support whatever she decides."

That made his friend sniff, and a moment later Ron's focus slid off somewhere to the left, his features betraying a mood somewhere between regretful and nostalgic.

"Yeah… guess you're right."

Hermione had awoken early, though judging from the temperature of the space next to her, it was clear that Master Kallas had risen long before the sun.

Following her brief flash of disorientation upon waking up in the witch's bed, she had been flooded with memories of the night before - the dire predictions from the Order meeting, the confusion and guilt upon seeing her friends and community back in Great Britain, and the unnerving discussion with Master Kallas at the end of the night that had left her feeling overwhelmed and undeniably panicked at the thought of the upcoming weeks and months.

Somehow the juxtaposition of all of those thoughts had been too much against the unfamiliar and undeniably beautiful surroundings of her master's bedroom, and Hermione had quickly risen… padding quietly back to her own rooms and attempting to keep her thoughts at bay.

Now, standing next to gauzy curtains and gazing out toward the brisk autumn day, Hermione allowed herself to feel lost.

A trickle of birdsong floated in from the open window along with the fresh scents of pine and sea salt… the light breeze wound its way through her curls, seeming to beckon her to its call...

A moment later, Hermione bit her lip and summoned a bag.

Quickly stuffing in a few books, parchments, and some writing utensils, she grabbed a swimsuit and towel and quickly came to a decision.

Training had seemed too arduous a task and she knew that she was still too unfocused to begin her Mastery revisions. She needed to get off the island or at least away from the villa for a bit, even as a pang of guilt suddenly twisted through her chest. Deftly pulling her needed materials together, Hermione cast one last glance around her room for good measure.

I just need to step away for a little bit… Master Kallas will understand.

Her feet carried her through the quiet halls of the villa until she arrived to the kitchen where an immaculate figure in a simple layer of ivory robes sat at the table, the slip of silk revealing the smooth expanse of a dark shoulder and glimpse of shaded collarbone.

"I'm going to go out for awhile, Master," Hermione announced quietly, somehow afraid to meet the witch's gaze. She waited nervously as a delicate hand paused in its correspondence.

"I'm going to attend to my revisions on Kato Koufonisi."

A moment later, the dark curls lifted and she was surprised to see Master Kallas' beautiful features arranged into an expression of indifference.

"Very well," came the soft reply. There was a long pause and Hermione wasn't sure if she imagined a flash of concern before the witch turned back to her parchment.

A moment later the quill continued scratching.

"We are on our own for dinner tonight. I will prepare a few things around seven."

The quill paused for a split second.

"You do not have to feel obligated to join me."

Inwardly, Hermione felt her heart seize slightly as her anxiety melded with relief and guilt at the quiet words.

"All right," she replied softly, trying not to sound too reassured by the offer.

She turned toward the kitchen counter and quickly slipped a banana and apple into her bag before peeking into the pantry and magicking together a few extra snacks that would see her through the morning. If she needed she could always stop into one of the local towns for lunch.

"Have a good day, Master," Hermione offered gently, already halfway toward the hall.

In the split second before she passed the threshold, Master Kallas looked up.

Hermione put one foot in front of the other diligently as she quickly made her way outside and down toward the beach below… desperately trying to ignore the way her chest had caught at seeing the witch's sad smile.