A/N: A few things happening at once...
A knock on the door drew Pomona from her marking and she looked up, startled to see that the hour was quickly drawing close to five in the evening.
Helga's hippogriffs, you haven't moved in nearly three hours!
Groaning, she shifted her parchments to one side even as she called "Enter!" already wondering who would be stopping by so late on a Saturday afternoon. The majority of the students would likely remain in Hogsmeade until close to sunset, and as far as she knew, most of her colleagues were home for the weekend.
Pomona was surprised when Hestia's bright face poked past the threshold, appearing distracted as she gazed down at something she was carrying in one hand.
"Ah, Hestia! What a pleasant interruption…. Come in, come in! Is there anything I can get for you?" she called, smiling broadly. It had been a number of weeks since the witch had stopped by for a visit.
Her smile faltered however when Hestia barely looked up from whatever it was she seemed to be holding in one arm. The witch drifted into her shared quarters with Filius, waving the door shut absently, a frown marring her otherwise pretty features.
"Forgive me for interrupting, Pomona… I wonder if Filius might be around?"
Pomona frowned, sitting back slightly. "Well, I'm sorry, dear… but Filius is on duty in Hogsmeade for the next few hours. Shall I let tell him to find you later this evening?"
At that Hestia finally looked at her, somewhat startled, blinking as if suddenly realizing where she was.
"Take a look at this, would you?"
The witch strode over and quickly took a seat next to Pomona's favorite armchair, sliding onto the chesterfield and pressing a parchment into her hands.
Pomona looked over it slowly, noting the tinge of yellow around the edges, the relative dryness of the document, and the smell of dust, mold, and the more subtle breath of stasis potions. Her eyes narrowed.
"I take it this was sent to you from Alexandria?" she asked quietly, noting how Hestia shifted and nodded.
"Last night I found the article Hermione mentioned in Le Devin Quotidien," she whispered. "It was little to go on - I'm impressed that she managed to connect the dots, actually."
Pomona chuckled.
"I made two separate Floo calls from independent locations outside of Hogwarts. I managed to extract a bit of useful information. It seems that whomever was responsible for the break-in focused their efforts in two distinct areas of the Library's Artifact Archives. The Middle Bronze dynasty of Ancient Egypt and the Archaic to Preclassic Periods of the Maya civilization. I elected to continue my investigation with Egypt for the moment… perhaps Septima and Talfryn can make additional inquiries in the coming week," Hestia explained, her small hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke.
"You have been busy, my dear. Did you get any sleep last night at all?" Pomona asked in bewilderment, looking at the witch next to her in surprise.
Hestia sniffed wryly and pointed to the parchment in Pomona's hands. It appeared to be a detailed inventory list.
"I pulled a few strings and was given this list of Egyptian artifacts currently withheld from public display at the Museum of Alexandria. These are all specifically from the time period that the intruder was researching. A majority of artifacts listed on this parchment are held in the storage vaults beneath the Library. All but twelve."
Hestia shifted and began ticking them off on her fingers.
"Eight are currently in Restorations, three are on tour in Austria with an exhibit at the Kunsthistoriches Museum, and one more is in New York. Only one remains outside the shared grasp of the Library and Museum entirely… having been returned to its original location for unknown reasons. The aide who helped me only has record of the artifact's intake and subsequent return, not quite five months after it was absorbed for processing. That was in 1923."
"I take it that your interest lies in the last artifact?" Pomona asked evenly, eyes slowly absorbing the list and the magical check marks Hestia had placed next to the artifacts of note. She's thorough, I'll give her that.
"Indeed. I can find little beyond its record on this list and its having been added to the Archive's Banned Materials list."
That seemed to indicate that the mysterious object had been too unstable for storage or had not been vetted properly by Curse Breakers. Either way, that did not bode well.
"And there has been no further record of the object since its dismissal?" she asked. Hestia shook her head.
"I haven't researched anything further, but no... its intake and dismissal both happened in 1923."
"Who else have you confided in?" Pomona asked, her eyes still traveling over the parchment methodically.
"No one yet. I planned on discussing it with either Filius or Septima to see if they could run a few equations, but in my haste I forgot that he took Horace's shift in Hogsmeade this weekend. Septima won't be back until tomorrow evening," Hestia replied, watching her read with a concerned expression.
Pomona took another long moment to commit the list of items to memory, making a mental grid of the entire parchment and noting the text, the discolorations in the paper, and a few ink splatters with a practiced eye. Inhaling softly, her eyes narrowed and eventually she looked up.
"Good," she replied curtly, giving Hestia meaningful look. Re-rolling the parchment, she handed it back to to the witch who looked at her in surprise. Rising with a soft groan, Pomona flicked a hand toward the hearth in a well-practice manner and reignited the dwindling flames.
"Would you care for tea or coffee?" she asked quietly, turning to look back at Hestia who was watching her with a small frown. The witch shook her head.
"No, thank you," she replied, biting one lip. "What do you make of this?"
"One moment," Pomona replied gently, holding up a finger. The younger woman fidgeted impatiently but waited as Pomona called a House Elf and requested her customary blend of pumpkin spice tea and a small plate of shortbread biscuits. She plucked a throw from Filius' armchair and returned to her spot, folding the knitted blanket across her lap.
"Now then, Hestia," she said eventually, resettling in her armchair and taking a fortifying sip of tea. "You are going to repeat everything you learned about this matter between now and the meeting."
Predictably, Hestia's brows drew together in confusion and she shifted slightly, moving forward to rest her elbows on her knees.
"I don't see what that will tell you," she replied slowly. "I've summarized the significant points."
"Everything," Pomona repeated firmly. "I wish to know if my first instincts are an unwarranted mess of fanciful conjecture. When Filius returns we shall include him in this conversation."
"But Pomon-"
"Patience, Hestia," Pomona interrupted sharply. She softened a moment later, and sat forward.
"You asked me a question and I shall answer it in time, but first I need to know exactly what you've uncovered. Take me through your process from the end of last night's meeting through to this moment now. And tell me a bit more of your own impressions. What was the tone of your conversations? Were they pleasant? Were you able to read into the assistants who helped you?"
A curious little smile was playing at the corners of Hestia's lips and the witch seemed to be debating whether or not to swear or laugh.
"You're a tough cookie, Pomona," she said eventually.
Pomona sat back and took another sip of tea, her eyebrows rising bemusedly as she gazed into the fire.
"You have no idea."
Dia looked up as she felt Hermione's presence grow closer, waving a hand to send a charm so that the witch would know where to find her. Blinking sleepily, she ran a hand over her face, quickly organizing her parchments and ensuring that none had managed to fly away with the wind.
The beautiful day had proven warmer than she had anticipated and Dia had begun to doze after lunch when it had become clear that Hermione wasn't prepared to return for the midday meal. Squinting slightly, she saw that the sun had fallen from its zenith and was cutting a harsh glare across the sea below, straight into her eyes as she had stretched out on her stomach.
Dia shifted a pillow to her right to block some of the light and a moment later she couldn't help but smile as a tentative voice floated out upon the veranda.
"Master?"
"Out here, darling," Dia called, propping herself up on one elbow to watch the young woman approach. Hermione padded out from the shadows of her bedroom and Dia could tell from her body language that she was feeling insecure.
The witch seemed to hesitate on the threshold, her steps faltering just before stepping outside, and Dia's mood began to spiral, assured that the coming conversation would soon unfold into a dissolution agreement. However her thoughts shifted immediately to concern when Hermione emerged into the light.
"Hippolyta's sword, what happened to you?!" Dia exclaimed, rising quickly to meet her apprentice as she took a few small steps onto the sunlit veranda. "You look like a…"
"A lobster?" Hermione supplied helpfully, a sheepish expression on her face. A lobster indeed.
Dia's lips drew together and she snapped her fingers impatiently, summoning a few items from her personal bath as she drew closer and took stock of her charge. Her fingers gently traced along Hermione's reddened cheek, noting the darkened flush of sunburn that spread down the woman's throat and into the deep-V of her robes that Dia studiously avoided for the moment.
"I suppose the weather has been rather cold…" she murmured, moving around to see Hermione's other side. It seemed the witch's legs were just starting to color as well. "No one expected the sun to be so strong today, though fortunately it seems we've caught you just in time. So long as we apply a few remedies now, you should be fine in a few hours."
"I'm sorry, Master," Hermione apologized unnecessarily. Dia merely lifted an eyebrow and opened her hands, accepting three bottles that contained her variations on burn paste, hydrating lotion, and a healing salve.
"Come, let's move inside," she said softly, gesturing toward her room.
"I can do it," Hermione said hurriedly, turning toward her with an anxious expression. "I'm… um… not wearing anything underneath this."
Dia quirked an eyebrow and simply pressed Hermione toward her bedroom. Brits and their modesty...
"Lay on the bed my dear, I will transfigure something for you," Dia replied evenly in a tone that brokered no room for argument.
Stepping into the cool shadows of her bedroom, she followed Hermione across the cool wood floor and absently waved a hand to open a few of the gauzy curtains. The golden light illuminated the quiet space with a sleepy sort of glow and she watched as Hermione settled on the edge of her bed, scooting back slightly and watching her with wary eyes.
"Lie back, darling," Dia repeated, quickly settling upon the bed and moving so that she could sit to Hermione's right side as she lay back against the white sheets silently.
A moment later, her apprentice gasped lightly as Dia transfigured her light robes into two thin strips of towel, leaving her with space to apply the necessary remedies.
She could clearly see the outline of the bikini Hermione had been wearing across her chest. The skin around it had taken on an angry red tinge and it looked like the witch had already begun scratching.
"Hold still, darling," Dia murmured. Deftly she mixed the burn paste in with the healing ointment, creating a rather fragrant blend of coconut, mint, aloe and a few more pungent herbs.
"This should relieve the immediate itching and discomfort," she said, smiling as Hermione's eyes squinched shut as she spread some of the combination across her face. "At least you managed to burn yourself relatively evenly. I daresay you'll have a lovely tan by tomorrow."
Hermione smiled softly as Dia's fingers gently began rubbing the thick substance across her cheeks and into her hairline.
"I forgot to cast a UV Charm," Hermione murmured quietly, already visibly relaxing as Dia's hands moved across her neck and shoulders in a soothing manner. "I suppose the glare from the water didn't help."
"It was an unexpectedly bright day," Dia agreed conversationally, ignoring the shivers as she spread the salve across Hermione's chest and taut stomach. She worked efficiently, and as she shifted to get better leverage, Dia faltered in her ministrations as the angle revealed a subtle silver gash running diagonally across her apprentice's body from just beneath her left clavicle to the outside of her lower right ribs.
It was a thin scar and almost invisible beneath the witch's reddened skin, but Dia recognized the jagged edges and silvery cast… startled by the violent implications and immediately angered that a wand had been raised against her apprentice. I know that curse...
"Antonin Dolohov," Hermione explained unnecessarily, her eyes staring up at the ceiling unseeingly. Dia noted the tightness around the full lips and the slightly angry set of the jaw. "At the end of my fifth-year. He hexed me when we broke into the Department of Mysteries."
Dia picked up the hydrating lotion and quickly resumed her care, encouraging Hermione to relax as she worked the substance across her shoulders and down her arms.
"We are almost matching then," Dia replied softly, trying to reassure her apprentice. "Though the scar he gave me is on my back and not quite as pretty as yours."
Hermione shifted beneath her and tilted her head, looking up at her with a strange combination of admiration and gratitude. You are beautiful as you are, darling. The words caught on the tip of her tongue and Dia smiled gently instead.
"You broke into the Department of Mysteries?" she asked curiously.
Hermione wrinkled her nose in response and Dia swiped a bit of hydrating lotion across it, eliciting a girlish giggle. A long hand rose to rub in the offending substance and Dia continued working the lotion along Hermione's ribs, careful not to focus on the silvery scar.
"Harry was given a false vision by Voldemort. We thought that he was holding Harry's godfather captive when it was really just a trap to lure us to the Ministry so that Voldemort could get his hands on Harry's prophecy."
Dia sighed and poured a bit more lotion on her hands before starting on the witch's other side. There were still a number of events of the last War that she was still learning from Hermione directly.
"The faults of Legilimency are many," she murmured quietly.
"Are you accomplished?" Hermione asked. Dia's hands faltered, wondering what would have prompted her apprentice to ask such a question. Unexpectedly, Hermione grasped her wrist and Dia turned to meet the imploring caramel gaze.
"I don't mean to be rude in asking… but, the other night Minerva told me you were Occluding. I just assumed that you would have studied Legilimency as well," Hermione said softly.
"The two Arts do go hand in hand, though most people have an affinity for one or the either," Dia replied after a moment, moving down to spread lotion across Hermione's toned legs. She briefly allowed herself a moment to appreciate the well-developed muscles.
"Arts?"
Dia sighed and worked her hands down the witch's right quad, smiling mischievously when Hermione unexpectedly flinched as her hands passed over her knee. It seemed the witch was ticklish. Best remember that for later...
"In Darker circles, both Legilimency and Occlumency are referred to as the Arts… for the simple fact that they are incredibly challenging skill-sets, demanding the right combination of precision, intuition, and ruthlessness in order to wield one's magic in an artful way to either extract the gossamer threads of another's thoughts or protect them from unwanted invasion."
Hermione shivered and Dia's eyes flicked back to the witch's face which was again focused on the ceiling.
"Sorry… you just reminded me of Professor Snape," Hermione murmured, surprising Dia with her perceptiveness.
"I suppose that's only fitting. I learned a great deal from Severus," Dia replied honestly.
At that Hermione sat up slightly, propping herself up on her elbows even as one thin towel threatened to slip. Dia paused and shifted around to Hermione's left side, keeping her gaze from the glistening planes of the witch's toned stomach.
"You studied with Severus?" she asked incredulously.
Dia smirked and moved slightly to press Hermione back into lying down. She tugged the towel back in place unnecessarily and drew close so that her face was closer to Hermione's.
"The other way around, my darling," she purred. Hermione's eyes widened and she shrank back slightly.
Chuckling, Dia moved back down and worked the last of the lotion down Hermione's left leg with sure strokes. Already the flushed skin seemed to be cooling.
"At least… in the beginning," she amended. "Severus was a third-year when I became Minerva's apprentice. By the time I began teaching, he was an upperclassman and our paths had no opportunity to cross in the realm of Transfiguration. However I once stepped in to substitute his sixth-year Potions class for two months when Horace came down with a rather severe case of spattergroit."
Dia sat back slightly and averted her eyes as she gestured for Hermione to flip, quickly charming one of the towels to cover her buttocks carefully.
As she turned back she saw that Hermione was looking at her with wide eyes, arms folded beneath her cheek as she waited for Dia to continue.
"We had our own understanding," she explained softly, shaking her head at the memory and scooped up a liberal amount of the first concoction. "A friendly rapport, if you will. Later, I discovered that Severus had a penchant for the Arts. When he was no longer a student at Hogwarts I asked for his assistance in learning them. He obliged."
"Wasn't he a Death Eater by then?" Hermione asked softly. Dia was surprised to note that there was no accusation in the witch's voice - only genuine curiosity. She sighed, working burn paste into Hermione's shoulders where the skin seemed to be the most affected.
"Severus and I had an understanding that had always extended beyond the conventional. I was one of the few adults that he listened to and respected, likely because I had always kept an eye out for Slytherin students… and in the brief period that I had worked with him, I encouraged him to pursue a Mastery in Potions," she replied, gaze faltering as she remembered.
"I asked for him after he had graduated and we met on strictly business terms. I knew nothing of his activities and he knew nothing of mine. He sought a bit of information regarding a few advanced potions. I sought information regarding the Arts."
Dia blinked quickly, surprised at how the memory still affected her after all this time.
She returned her attention to Hermione's skin, carefully spreading the healing concoction beneath the rounded curves of the witch's buttocks.
"It was an arrangement that lasted three weeks in the summer immediately following his graduation from Hogwarts. Only later did I learn he had taken the Mark a few days after," she said softly.
A brief glance to her right saw that Hermione was staring at her with an odd expression, as if she couldn't quite make up her mind what to think. For a moment they remained silent as she worked hydrating lotion down the long lines of Hermione's legs in sure strokes.
"I do not expect you to understand. Many did not, including Minerva," Dia said softly.
"It's not that…" Hermione whispered, shifting back so that her chin rested upon folded arms. "I suppose I was just wondering how different our lives would have been had Prof - Severus actually invested in your friendship. I can only imagine how hard it was for you to hear that he had joined the Death Eaters, but I suppose if he hadn't… the second War may very well have been lost."
Dia's eyebrows rose at that, surprised and slightly touched by her apprentice's empathy and insight. She found herself at an uncharacteristic loss of words.
In her mind, Severus Snape would always be a thin, malnourished young boy from the Midlands, with inborn talent that she would always envy and a stubborn streak that would forever try her patience. She had gone out of her way to earn and keep the boy's trust but in the end, there had been little to show for her efforts.
Albus' words rang in the back of her mind and Dia shoved them away, loathe to spend more of her mental energy on the man who so easily betrayed those he found disposable.
"So which is your affinity?" Hermione asked.
It took a moment for Dia to understand that her apprentice was again referencing the Arts. She vacillated for a moment whether or not to divulge that information… in the wrong hands, it could lose her an advantage.
"If you're debating whether or not to tell me… I suppose that I should tell you something first."
Dia blinked and sat back slightly as Hermione rolled carefully so that she was lying on her left side, looking up at Dia with a solemn expression.
She fought to keep her own expression neutral, surreptitiously waving her fingers so that the towels grew and knitted themselves into a light set of robes that Hermione could wrap across her body. Her apprentice blinked in surprise, her skin glistening as she pressed herself up to sit on one hip, her legs draping elegantly across the white comforter.
"Dia?"
Hermione's eyes seemed impossibly large and Dia found herself leaning away from the young woman's close proximity, unnerved at how quickly the witch had unsettled her.
"Yes, Hermione?"
Amber eyes flicked across her face for a moment before her jaw seemed to set in determination.
"I've decided to stay," she said softly. The words didn't quite register and Dia blinked.
"I've decided that I can do more to help the Order at your side than I can on my own, and that… if you'll have me, I'd like to continue with our contract as planned. Depending on how the future unfolds, I still wish to stay through my third classifications and re-evaluate our arrangement then."
"Yes," Dia breathed, feeling uncharacteristically off-balance. Hermione gave her a shy smile and rearranged herself slightly, shifting so that she could sit cross-legged on the bed. The more familiar pose seemed to jar Dia from her haze and she cleared her throat and moved back slightly.
"Of course, Hermione," she amended, feeling a warm tendril of pleasure twine through their bond. "It would be an honor to continue working with you."
Hermione bit a lip and folded her hands in her lap and Dia hid a smile. Of course there is more to her decision…
"Thank you, Master," she murmured. A stray curl fell across Hermione's forehead and Dia briefly wondered if the young woman recognized how lovely she appeared wearing Dia's own informal hairstyle.
"I had planned on coming in here and telling you in a bit more formal manner, but it seems that plan has disappeared along with my clothes."
Hermione's lips curved into a soft smile and Dia felt her own curl upwards in answer. Merlin, she wants to stay…
She kept her pleasure buried and waited as the witch straightened slightly, squaring her shoulders and meeting her in a confident gaze.
"I apologize if I gave you the impression that your… conditions somehow made you feel as though I don't trust you," Hermione said, her brow furrowing lightly.
"At first, I think that I assumed too many things about why you would ask for such a thing. It also took me time to realize that we are very different people and that it is only prudent for you to protect the both of us through the means that are most familiar to you. Now that I've had a chance to consider your proposal, I think it is very wise on your part… I am still young and impulsive at times. I need to learn to defer to your experience and I am sure it will be a challenge for both of us."
Dia listened, impressed at how thoroughly Hermione had considered her words from the night previous and had divined a good amount of her reasoning. Their bond told her that the witch was speaking honestly, and Dia experienced a brief surge of disbelief at realizing how lucky she was to have accepted Hermione's apprenticeship application, nearly at random. You receive as much from her as she does you…
Smiling absently, Dia felt the witch's emotions shift slightly - swirling together in a manner that indicated Hermione was coming to some sort of decision.
"However, I think for the both of us to be satisfied with my decision… we need to agree on the conditions with greater specificity," Hermione said firmly, watching as Dia tilted her head thoughtfully.
"I appreciate your willingness to join the Order on my behalf, as it were, and I am more than happy to continue to defer to your experience as we move forward together, but I will also not have my own autonomy barred on account of our agreement."
If you needed any evidence to prove that she is learning from you, she has just presented it.
"What did you have in mind?" Dia asked carefully, curious to see what the witch would say.
She was not opposed to refining their arrangement. On the contrary - it would likely help them both. But Dia also knew that Hermione was treading a very challenging line between old alliances and new ones. Her provisions would help clarify where her difficulties lay, if any… and whether Dia needed to anticipate any difficulties in their partnership.
"I asked myself whether or not I would trust you if you ordered me to withhold information from the Order," Hermione began softly, her eyes still trained on Dia's face.
"I decided that I could. Even if you didn't provide me with an explanation as to why."
Dia listened, allowing herself to absorb her apprentice's words alongside the firm spiral of conviction she felt through their bond. Hermione genuinely believed what she was saying and Dia was rather touched.
She had already considered such circumstances and had already decided that she would be more than willing to keep her apprentice informed as they progressed. I simply cannot promise that she will like every answer…
"Then I asked myself whether not I could trust you if you ordered me to withhold information from the Order if I knew that it would result in someone's death," Hermione said quietly. Dia's eyes widened.
"And I decided that I could… however I have to ask that you will allow me to share in the weight of that burden." Hermione's eyes flashed and her expression grew hard.
"I don't ever want you to keep consequences to yourself because you think it will ease my conscience. I want to know exactly what our actions will provoke and I also want to know the instant that your intelligence will suggest any sort of shift that could result in significant injury or loss of life - whether on our side, the opposite, or somewhere in between… never keep something from me of that magnitude because of the ease of logistics. I will find out."
Dia nodded her understanding silently, taken aback by the force of Hermione's words and that the witch had already considered so many instances and exceptions to the demand. She was also somewhat shocked that her apprentice would so easily assume her ruthlessness… but then again, is she wrong?
An even deeper thought found her wondering whether or not it would be possible to get around Hermione's stipulations. Though if she wants honesty, who are you to protect her from the harshness of it?
"I understand," Dia replied eventually, her voice quiet. "I can agree to that."
It seemed that they were already building their contract.
Hermione's steely expression did not soften and Dia resettled, preparing herself for more.
"We shall be separated for any operation that could result in either my death or yours."
"Hermione…" Dia began, her voice dangerously low.
"No, Dia," Hermione interrupted firmly, holding up a hand. "I know what I am asking and we both know why I am asking it."
"Who shall judge such circumstances?" Dia asked quietly, willing her voice to remain free of the anger she felt.
"Minerva," Hermione answered immediately. "If you feel she cannot be impartial, it shall be voted on by two additional members of the Order. Of your choice."
Dia allowed herself a glare, both annoyed and pleased when Hermione didn't flinch.
"And if the operation would be best served by our shared talents?"
"Then we shall serve together. I speak of instances in which our talents may serve different goals that need to be accomplished simultaneously."
Dia sat back and mulled over that, briefly wondering what imagined scenario had compelled Hermione to ask for such a demand. Her mind shuttled ahead, quickly extrapolating how she could bend that condition to protect her apprentice if necessary. It can be done.
"Very well," she replied reluctantly. Hermione simply tilted her chin slightly and something in the set of her jaw made Dia steel herself for another difficult request.
"I ask that when we renew our Oath after my first classifications, you will do me the honor of allowing us to bond formally."
"Pósa kilá malákas eísé!"
Hermione's eyebrows rose up toward her hairline even as Dia flushed - simultaneously infuriated by the witch's demand and embarrassed that her mouth had gotten away from her. She raked both hands through her hair even as her mind raced to work around Hermione's request… Why, Hermione?!
Shifting smoothly, Dia rose and paced over to the windows, her face contorting in anger as she worked to rein in her thoughts and fears.
"You do not know what you ask, Hermione," Dia hissed, whirling to face the witch who sat calmly on her bed. So young… so full of life… she doesn't deserve...
"Dia… please…"
The quiet plea cut through her emotions and Dia deflated somewhat, already knowing that yes… her deliciously intelligent apprentice did understand what she was asking. Dia glared again, halfheartedly hoping to scare the young woman into withdrawing her request, but to her dismay, Hermione returned her harsh gaze with a fond smile.
Sweet Circe, she's smiling at you.
"Hermione," Dia said weakly, floating back to the bed as her hands gestured helplessly. "I cannot allow it… it would be negligent… I would -"
"Master."
Hermione's hand on her wrist forestalled the rest of her weak arguments and Dia lifted her gaze, feeling an uncomfortable lump of emotion rise in the back of her throat as the bed rocked slightly, pressing forward against her thighs.
"You would do me a great honor," Hermione whispered gently. The expression on her face was so earnest and hopeful that Dia found herself drawing back, averting her eyes even as they filled with tears. This is likely how Minerva felt when you asked her for the same privilege...
To formally bond would twine their magic.
Doubtless, the witch was primarily using it as a fail-safe measure to ensure their mutual protection… but beneath it, Dia's intuition suggested that Hermione's reasons were far more personal.
The bond she currently shared with Hermione was a variation on a more provisional arrangement; the ability to sense one another's emotional states helped facilitate an exchange of information, and an additional condition worked as a locator beacon if Hermione were ever threatened directly, immediately allowing Dia to Apparate to her location and render aid.
Formal bonds were a much deeper commitment… combining intimacy and deadly seriousness into one package. Blood magic would tie their lives together until it was mutually dissolved - or death intervened. If Hermione were injured, Dia's magic would act upon its own volition to save her and vice versa. However if one person died, so too would the other.
I cannot abide such an arrangement.
"If I do not agree?" Dia asked softly. Despite her efforts, her voice was constricted with emotion and Hermione watched her quietly.
"You would dismiss me?" Hermione asked in response. Dia closed her eyes and sat upon the edge of the bed, no longer able to look at the witch.
"Do not presume to know my intentions, Hermione. This thing you ask is no small matter," she replied coldly.
"Forgive me if being preoccupied with your welfare is a concern above my station!"
"You tread dangerous ground, Apprentice," Dia growled, barely catching Hermione's movement out of her peripheral vision. Her fingers gripped the edge of the bed in anger and she exhaled slowly, willing herself to dispel the surge of emotion that had risen as she realized how easily the witch had backed her into a corner.
She heard Hermione grow still.
"Master Kallas, you will do me this honor or our contract will be dissolved," Hermione said quietly. "I have weighed the consequences of my actions and I have chosen to put my faith in your abilities and I earnestly believed your trust in my own. If I presumed in error, let us correct it."
A small part of Dia was impressed for how the young witch was handling her, though the larger part of her was twisting in pain and anger for what she was being asked.
She could not very well send Hermione home to Great Britain alone. It would dishonor her without reason and while Dia knew that Minerva would be there to pick up the pieces, it would mar them both. Additionally, she knew that her former mentor had far too much on her plate already. Hermione would suffer as a result of Minerva's split attentions and her abilities would not be nurtured.
She played you like a lyre…
Dia sighed quietly and let her shoulders slump, giving into the weighty feeling of defeat that pooled through her. She felt frozen, already terrified beyond measure at the thought of Hermione's life thrown into jeopardy because of her own actions not yet made… her emotions began to spiral downward and Dia quickly closed her eyes, mind already working to shield Hermione from the onslaught of her inner turmoil.
"Stop it!"
The bed swung slightly and Dia caught herself on one elbow as Hermione forcibly knocked her to one side and drew close, her face pressing into Dia's field of vision as she poked one forceful finger against Dia's sternum.
"Diamantina Kallas, don't think for a second that I can't see what's happening behind your stupid Occlumency shields!"
Dia blinked, pulling back automatically even as her body stopped itself from flipping Hermione over and pinning her. What even-
Caramel eyes flashed as Hermione glared down at her.
"Nothing is going to happen to me because nothing is going to happen to you! Do you understand me?"
Dia blinked again uncomprehendingly.
"Do you understand me?" Hermione hissed and Dia found herself nodding mutely.
The witch sat back, clutching white robes between her breasts firmly, her eyebrows still drawn together in anger even as Dia rolled slightly so that she was facing Hermione on her stomach, still trying to figure out how she had been so completely blindsided by her apprentice's fierce streak of protectiveness that suddenly blossomed across their bond.
When did she begin to feel so strongly for you?
"I am asking for this condition because despite your stupid slithering notions of nobility and honor, I refuse to let you be a martyr for any reason, all right?" Hermione's voice had lowered itself by a few decibels, though Dia was struck at how thoroughly she felt as though she were being lectured.
"All this means is that I have to be good. I have to be really fucking good! I have to study well! I have to spy well! And I have to fight well! And you know what?! I'm good at learning, Dia! I'm really good, okay?"
"Hermione…"
"Shut up, I'm not done!"
Dia pressed her lips together and waited, willing herself not to flinch as Hermione brandished a pillow at her and began punctuating her words by punching it with a small fist.
"And you listen to me, Diamantina Kallas. You are the best - goddamn - mentor I have ever had - yes, ever - and I know without the shadow of a doubt that you are my best hope at getting through this next war alive and intact and by Godric's sword - you - are - going - to - get - through - it - with - me! Do you understand?!"
"Hermione…"
"Do you?!"
"I understand!" Dia snapped, losing her patience and grabbing the pillow from her apprentice's hands and shoving it to one side as she moved herself closer. "Hermione!"
"What?!"
The witch's chest was heaving and Dia could see the heat of her anger spreading across it like an angry rash. Hermione's curls had come loose from their twist and were spilled across glowing shoulders giving her an added aura of uncontrolled power. There was no trace of the brilliant but slightly insecure young woman who had shown up on the steps of the villa looking eager and nervous.
A powerful witch had replaced her... and she was an entirely new force made of sinew, muscle, and steel.
She is marvelous...
Unwillingly, Dia felt her heart soften.
Caramel eyes were still glaring daggers at her and Dia took a deep breath and propped herself up on one arm, extending other in an invitation.
"Come here," she commanded gently.
Hermione's eyes flicked over her for a long moment, appearing to weigh Dia's sincerity.
Abruptly, the expression crumpled slightly and Hermione launched herself forward, nearly knocking Dia's breath from her lungs as she pressed herself into the waiting embrace, the two of them falling into an ungainly tangle of limbs as the bed swung softly.
"I accept your conditions," Dia murmured quietly, pressing soft kisses into the mane of curls even as she felt Hermione tremble and begin to shake quietly in her arms.
"You infuriate me, but I accept them. And you do me a great honor, Hermione. I shall never understand your reasoning, but I know when to accept defeat gracefully…"
Their bond suddenly thrummed into place and Dia smiled, feeling hot breath spread across her chest even as the telltale trickle of tears began sliding gently between her breasts. Her brow creased. "Don't cry, my darling…"
The witch gasped quietly in her arms and Dia pulled her closer, rubbing reassuring circles on warm skin that she had so recently tended. Their mutual ire somewhat spent, a new sort of energy flooded through the both of them, warming them from the inside and tinging their shared connection with a new depth of color that hadn't been there before.
"Thank you, Dia."
They lay there together for a long moment and it took all of Dia's strength to keep her own tears at bay as she made her own solemn promise.
By Hippolyta's Line and all the powers between this world and next - you cannot fail her.
A/N: Translations
Pósa kilá malákas eísé! - rude statement, in this context basically meaning "why are you doing this?"
lit. how many kilos of asshole is this