A/N: A bit of a transitional chapter here, but we'll be meeting some new people in the next one... Thanks for the feedback!
Eleftheria floated through the eerily silent villa, already knowing she would find the two witches she sought in the kitchen. The day was rather bright and glowing squares of sunlight streamed across warm tiles as she turned the corner, her robes whispering across the floor quietly.
"Kaliméra," she murmured softly.
Eleftheria swept over to the kitchen counter, unperturbed by the lack of reply - indeed she had not expected one at all. She prepared a cup of coffee, quickly noting how her two charges sat on opposite sides of the informal table, Hermione's eyes rather red-rimmed and Dia's spine unnaturally stiff as they gazed toward their breakfasts unseeingly.
For a long moment, the only sounds were the gentle spill of sugar and the tinkling of her spoon before Eleftheria turned around, expression falling somewhat as she crossed over to the table and placed a warm hand on the younger witch's shoulder.
"Hermione, my darling… I am sorry for your loss," she murmured softly. The young woman's chin tucked and she bit her bottom lip before nodding.
"Thank you, Yiaiyia," she whispered. A glance to the other end of the table saw her niece with a more complicated expression upon her face, which smoothed as soon as her seafoam eyes recognized Eleftheria's attention.
"Yiaiyia," she said simply, the greeting sounding rather hollow.
Eleftheria sighed and waved a chair out on the adjacent side of the table, between them both. She chose to sit closer to Hermione.
"I came as soon as I heard," she said, by way of explanation. "I received word this morning and just saw the official article regarding... the accident."
"It was not an accident," Hermione hissed vehemently, her voice choked with emotion. She blinked a few times and then slumped back, one finger picking at the table's wood grain absently. "Minerva's message was evidence enough."
"Then we are all in agreement," Eleftheria replied kindly, already knowing that her niece had likely shared her thoughts.
Hermione's shimmering eyes looked up to hers, her brows drawing together.
"What do you think?"
Eleftheria wet her lips for a moment before sitting back and considering the question. She had already spoken with several sources since receiving the news around five. The Greek opinion was a bit divided, but those she trusted had found the death rather suspicious. The wizard, Sturgis Podmore, had been in a well-respected position within the British Ministry.
"Forgive my bluntness, Hermione… I know Sturgis was a friend. However I do believe it was an accident in the sense that he was not intended to be killed from the outset," she replied carefully. "Intelligence suggests that your friend may have gone to meet someone after his shift. I have to wonder if he was simply stepping into circumstances bigger than his control."
"What do you know?" Hermione asked sharply, surprising her with the forcefulness of the command. A shift to her right indicated that her niece was also interested. Caramel eyes softened slightly.
"We have heard nothing since receiving Minerva's message," Hermione whispered.
Eleftheria sat back and took a sip of coffee.
"When the Prophet arrives, you will likely read that Sturgis Podmore was killed in an accidental warding misfire as he returned to the Ministry after a late-night sweep of the building's perimeter. She gave a thoughtful tilt of her head. "A plausible first theory and Renata has confirmed the diagnostics."
"You know Renata?" Hermione asked, surprised.
"My work with the Guild often brought me into adjacent missions alongside the Order during the First War," she explained. "Though admittedly, Renata's reputation and career precedes her, and I have no doubt that her Healing hands have touched many a person across all of Europe."
Another subtle shift told her something far more curious. I see Hermione has not informed my niece of our conversation…
"And?" Dia prompted, an edge finding its way into the simple word. Eleftheria lifted an eyebrow.
"Sturgis Podmore was an accomplished Auror long before he ascended to the role of Deputy Head in the British Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Even a decade or longer out of the field, that entire skill-set would never have abandoned him," she said quietly. "Certainly not for something as ridiculous as a run-in with the Ministry's wards."
Hermione's brow furrowed.
"So you think that someone made it look like an accident?" she asked.
"It is not the first time in the last month," Eleftheria replied dryly, rearranging her robes.
"Perhaps Sturgis uncovered something unsavory… or was about to," Dia said, frowning lightly. "With his position in the Ministry, there would have been little chance for someone to escape unscathed if he had opened an official investigation to pursue it. Killing him would have been the logical option."
Hermione made a face, likely for how calmly Dia had relayed her thoughts. Her niece really did have to work on her delivery.
"Minerva mentioned that the Order's information has been leaked and that we are all to lay low for a while," Hermione said after a moment, biting her lip worriedly.
"I highly doubt she meant that your information was leaked to the press. While knowledge that the Order has been restored would undoubtedly be irritating and alarming to many in the public eye, a number of you are already well-known for your efforts during the War," Yiayia replied, thinking aloud. "No, if she told you to lay low… it means your profiles have been released to the enemy."
Hermione's eyes had grown wide and Dia sat forward to place a reassuring hand on the table.
"Hermione… consider how high-profile you were during the War," she said softly. "Does this truly make circumstances much different for you?"
The younger witch blinked and frowned.
"No, I suppose not," she replied. "Though the blanket statement makes me worry that that everyone currently involved will now be at risk."
"It would seem to me that such information could have only come from within the Ministry's files, which likely haven't been updated since the end of the War. With Shacklebolt at the helm, I doubt there has been any incentive nor time to create new files for your new party," Eleftheria said reassuringly.
Hermione was looking at her curiously, perhaps wondering how she knew so much about Great Britain's Ministry. Takes one to know one...
"I would agree," Dia said, nodding. "Likely, she wishes all of us to remain beyond suspicion and out of the way of the continuing investigation and public scrutiny. For now I believe it best to heed Minerva's words."
"Do you not wish me to attend the funeral then?" Hermione asked, her shoulders slumping slightly.
"If you were in Great Britain, would you have attended?" Dia inquired gently.
"Yes, of course."
"Will it raise suspicion if your return from abroad to do so?"
Hermione's eyes fluttered and her mouth twisted.
"I am not certain," she said softly. "If I were there, it would make sense for me to attend since a large number of us who fought in the Battle of Hogwarts would be there to pay our respects. But outside of knowing him through the Order, we were not close… I suppose I don't know if it would look suspicious if I were to make a special appearance."
Dia tilted her head.
"Then I believe we should consult Minerva's advice," she said softly. Hermione nodded, gesturing slightly to indicate that Dia could make the call.
Eleftheria's eyes narrowed at the small movement. It seems they have come to an arrangement.
"I was planning to owl Harry and Ron today," Hermione continued quietly. "Do you think I can mention Sturgis in my letters?"
"Carefully," Eleftheria and Dia spoke together and exchanged a look. Eleftheria sniffed lightly and took a sip of coffee.
"Unless you have another method through which to communicate?" Dia asked, one eyebrow lifting as she pressed a hand to the tabletop in apparent invitation. Interesting...
Hermione's mouth opened for a moment as some form of realization spread across her features. One hand pressed itself to her pocket and then a moment later she was still, hands folded atop the table. I see we have a bit of work to do with those first reactions… perhaps Konstantinos can help with that.
"I understand."
"If you still wish to owl them, I would suggest we make a stop by the post office. Hermes is rather recognizable," Dia said even as Hermione nodded.
Eleftheria polished off the rest of her coffee and vanished the cup and saucer. The development between her niece and Hermione posed new problems for her to consider.
"Well darlings, I apologize for the interruption," she said, rising smoothly. "However, it seems I have a bit more investigating to do. I'm going to loiter around the Pantheon's halls until someone breaks down and tells me what I want to know. Shall see you in a few hours?"
Hermione looked to Dia with a surprised expression, apparently having forgotten about the family lunch.
"Indeed you shall, theia," Dia replied assuredly, giving her a solemn nod. "I expect we'll arrive around one."
"Very well. I'll leave you to your morning then… Adieu!"
The mood at Grimmauld Place was somber and though he had sat down to review his notes for Defense, Harry hadn't begun reading them at all since settling nearly a half hour previous.
The Headmistress' patronus had appeared at the Burrow during breakfast with Arthur Weasley returning not long after, dark circles beneath his eyes, and a deep furrow at his brow.
While Harry and Ron hadn't known Sturgis Podmore very well, it was clear that the elder Weasleys were greatly impacted by his death… and while Arthur had been unable to reveal the particulars of the ongoing investigation, everyone had quickly divined that the circumstances had been suspect. The Headmistress' message of warning had seemed to confirm that fact and when the tension at the Burrow had grown too great, he, Ginny, and Ron had slipped away to Grimmauld Place to find some peace.
The Daily Prophet's article on the matter had been predictably sensationalized and also entirely tactless. The memorial for Sturgis had been relatively tame and well-written, though a number of additional opinion pieces had sprung up on the next page calling the wizard's efforts with the Order a conspiracy.
Everyone was uneasy with the idea of the Order profiles having been released, and although Arthur hadn't said as much, Harry had understood that the Headmistress had meant they hadn't been released to the public… which only left one terrifying alternative.
After a bit of discussion, he, Ron, and Ginny had agreed that circumstances were much as they had been prior to the height of the War, and that being marked as an "undesirable" of sorts was something they had all already experienced. Ginny had her public position as a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies to hide behind while he and Ron were firmly ensconced beneath the protective grasp of the Auror Academy. While the consequences were something he could live with, Harry was more preoccupied with dark thoughts about those who had stolen their information... and the reasoning behind Sturgis' mysterious death.
A scuffling sound, a pop, and some muffled curses caught Harry's attention and he was on his feet in a moment, wand outstretched as he quickly circled behind the armchair and followed the line of the wall to pause at the threshold of the living area.
"Ron?" he called loudly. He thought he heard some irritated mutters.
"'S fine, Harry. Kreacher… er, captured an owl…"
Frowning, Harry turned the corner and peered across the hallway to see Ron emerging from the drawing room holding a disgruntled looking barn owl with mussed feathers and a rather ratty letter in one claw.
"Oh, uh… here," Harry offered, digging in his pocket for an owl treat. Unexpectedly his fingers brushed something warm and he pulled it out alongside a bit of dried frog leg.
"You still carry your D.A. coin?" Ron asked incredulously, pinching the treat and stuffing it in the owl's beak rather gracelessly. It nipped his fingers before fluttering off, clearly ascending the staircase in search of an exit.
"Try the Library!" Ron called after it, leaning forward as Harry brushed a few pieces of lint away from the glowing coin.
"I think Hermione sent it!" Harry said excitedly, squinting at the small numbers. "Wonder what she means by this?"
"Blimey, looks like this letter is from her too," Ron replied, already splitting the tattered envelope with his fingers.
They moved to sit on the bottom steps of the staircase as Ron passed him a parchment, the both of them settling into read with a bit of much-needed enthusiasm.
Harry,
Thank you so much for your letter… I can't tell you how much it meant to me, especially considering how rotten I've been to you both in the last several months.
It would take more than a few pieces of parchment to explain my reclusive behavior and honestly I'd rather wait until we can meet - you deserve to hear my response in person. I can't tell you how many times I've considered writing… even before we last saw each other, and I've been so ashamed of myself for pulling away. And so I have to thank you earnestly, from the bottom of my heart for still believing in me despite my silence… even though I've managed to lose myself a little along the way, I'm starting to heal and come around and it's time I put everything out in the open.
I'm hoping there will be an opportunity for us to meet in person sometime soon. Keep a look-out for another message or two once I get my schedule straight.
I know you'll be reading into the bit about losing myself… but I do promise that everything here has been going well. Really well, and perhaps that's been adding to my guilt. I've learned so much in the last several months and it's been thrilling, Harry. I can't wait to tell you about some of it. I finally feel like I understand what to do with the rest of my life and that's a great feeling indeed.
I'm sending this after seeing a familiar feline that we all know well. While I've been assured that sending a few cat treats is fine on this end, I'm not so sure that it will be appreciated by others at large and I hope you'll forgive me if I don't manage to bring the catnip. People might think I'm a crazy cat lady!
Anyway… I'm happy to hear that Kreacher has been keeping you on track. I've heard through the grapevine that you both are doing just fine without my nagging, though if you need me to charm some quills with some reminders, I'd be happy to send them along.
Stay out of trouble and don't go looking for it, all right?
See you soon, I hope!
All my love,
Hermione
Ron waited for him to finish, impatiently reading over his shoulder a bit before Harry let the letter drop, a small smile on his face. Even in writing, he could hear his friend's voice and it felt good to know that she was doing well.
"Well?" Ron asked.
"Did she write you about the cat treats? I'm assuming that means she received Minerva's message, but I wasn't sure about the rest," Harry said, frowning as he re-read the words.
"Pretty sure it means that she's unsure of whether or not to come back for Sturgis' funeral," Ron replied, looking at his own letter.
"It sounds like her master approves… but the part about 'others at large' and 'crazy cat lady' I think means that she's not sure how it will look to the public. Someone might read into the connections to the Order and she's asking us to forgive her if she doesn't come back."
Harry's brow furrowed as he nodded. He pulled out the D.A. coin again and looked at it closely.
"Looks like the date is set for the 28th at… three in the afternoon," he said, tilting the edge to see the light more clearly. "What do we have on that day?"
"Nothing, that's a Sunday…"
"Did she say where to meet?" Harry asked, already looking through his letter for more clues.
"It's Hermione, I'm sure she'll find a way to send word." Ron shrugged, clearly confident that they would hear from their friend before time.
Harry paused, looking at his Ron's face which looked rather pensive.
"What'd she say to you?" he asked quietly, wondering what Ron was thinking.
"Probably 'bout the same as you… she wants to explain why she hasn't written us in person and that otherwise she's doing really well," he replied, one hand coming up to stroke his beard thoughtfully.
Though he hadn't said as much, Harry thought Ron's beard looked rather nice, and to be honest, he was a bit jealous that the look suited him so well. In comparison, Harry still felt he looked rather boy-ish.
"You alright, mate?" Harry asked softly. He knew that Hermione continued to be a hard subject for his friend to talk about.
Ron sniffed and shook his head.
"Yeah… just, y'know… sometimes thinkin' about her makes me wonder what would've happened if I'd just pushed a little harder," he replied, gazing down at the letter in his hands. "I'll always have to wonder whether or not I made the right choice in letting her go."
Harry's lips twisted as he clasped Ron's shoulders firmly.
"I can't know for sure… but I think you did both of yourselves a really good favor," he replied quietly. "Hermione needed to get away from here after the War and you were always dead set on attending the Academy."
"Yeah, but even distance -"
"Hold on," Harry interrupted, angling slightly so that he could rest his elbows on his knees and face his friend more directly. "As much as you love her and care for her, you have to know that all of your shared interests and similarities could be counted on one hand, right?"
Ron chuckled at that and he nodded, flipping Hermione's letter between his hands absently.
"Right… now, I know it can be argued that opposites attract. But d'you really think you would have made each other happy? In the long run, I mean?"
While they had talked around the issue of Hermione plenty of times, Harry held his breath… knowing that he'd never asked the question so pointedly.
Ron was silent for a long moment, his brows drawn together in thought.
"No…" he replied after a while. "As much as I hate to admit it, I know you're right."
Sighing, Ron slumped back on the stairs and crossed his legs, leaning back on his elbows while he stared unseeingly toward the front door.
"As much as I want a career as an Auror, I also know that eventually I want to settle down and have a family. I want what my parents have, Harry… without as many kids of course, and I'd be happy if my wife wants to continue pursuing her own career… but," he shook his head sadly, his lips twisting.
"I know that Hermione is destined for a non-traditional life. She loves to learn in a way that I know I'll never understand… and while I know she wants kids eventually, we would have run into friction at some point. I would lose my patience and temper and she'd blow at up at me for it… we'd kiss and make up, but then it would keep spiraling until we'd eventually push each other away. And I'm not such a saint as to think it wouldn't be her career that would suffer for it."
Harry listened, surprised at how much thought Ron had put into things… and at how well he knew himself. Ron wiped a hand over his face tiredly before continuing.
"Hermione deserves to do all the things she wants. To keep learning and discovering and inventing things… getting her name written down in all the books that all our kids'll read at Hogwarts. She's ambitious, that's for sure. And as much as I love that about her, I also know that she's not what I need and I'm not what she needs. We both deserve other people."
The last bit was almost said as an affirmation and Harry smiled softly, proud of Ron for how much he had grown since their time at Hogwarts and how wise had become.
"Guess that's your answer, mate," Harry murmured, giving his friend a small smile.
Bright blue eyes found his and a moment later Ron gave him a half smile, sighing even as he folded his hands beneath his head and lay back against the staircase in earnest.
"Yeah… guess it is."