A/N: To answer a bit of previous feedback, I realize that the "adventure" part of the plot has taken precedence in this story... though I assure you the romance factor is carefully planned and approaching soon.
In our characters' lives, many things transpired over the last "two weeks" - international events, threats at the Ministry, whisperings of conspiracy, etc... I would imagine a majority of those topics would hang heavy for most people, and our main protagonist has been struggling with her own identity and role in the midst of this. Not necessarily the greatest backdrop for romance, though I do promise that a few unexpected matters will soon prompt some new sparks.
As I said at the beginning... this promises to be a long-haul on the HG/MM path and we've barely chipped into the full calendar. I'm terrible, I know...
Meanwhile, for those concerned for Minerva - rightly so, she's not well... however I imagine her arc will force her to confront the way she's been living her life for the last several decades. And perhaps there have already been a few clues to hint at what might be done to save her...
Thank you always for reading and reviewing :)
Sunday, Nov. 28, 1999
A cold breeze blew in from across the sea and Dia shivered slightly as she crossed her chambers, inhaling the comforting scent of salty brine as the curtains billowed and tossed in the fresh air.
Outside the clouds were hanging low and she could see a distant shadow of rain coming across the stormy slate gray waters. Somehow the weather seemed to echo her mood and Dia moved slowly as she packed a few more items into a small bag and assembled her parchments, maps, and assorted documents upon her bed. A distant murmur of voices indicated that Hermione was awake and conversing with both Elves, the three of them likely waiting for her to emerge and wish them goodbye.
A flash of guilt passed through her and Dia pursed her lips, quelling the familiar sense of unease that preceded any sort of clandestine mission. As soon as she was off everything would likely slide into place… and all her hazy worries about not having spent enough time with her family or Hermione would quickly evaporate.
Besides… this is a reconnaissance opportunity… it is highly unlikely you will engage with anyone significant at all.
Waving her things to the chaise lounge in the other room she strode into the bathroom to cast one last look over her appearance.
Unlike her usual silken layers, Dia wore a plain set of shabby brown robes and scuffed boots. Her curls were pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck and she had taken extra effort to ensure that everything about her appearance was as plain and unmemorable as possible, even going as far as to mask her usual scent with Muggle soap and olive oil.
Following her arrival at the MACUSA checkpoint in New York, Dia planned to conduct her own minor investigation into the missing witch's academic life in Palo Alto. Elizabeth Waterhouse had been on faculty at Stanford and Dia planned to drop by the university before departing for the country's southern border with Mexico. If all proceeded to schedule, she would make an illegal crossing through the Gulf that evening before arriving to Belize and continuing southwest into Guatemala itself where the more challenging work would begin.
If her research had paid off, it would likely be an uneventful journey aside from any intelligence she could discover… and it could also give her opportunity to investigate the ISOS violation at the Golden Gate bridge in person before departing the west coast. Both Minerva and Renata had been apprised of her plans, the former returning with a simple stamp of approval, the latter receiving only silence.
Dia sniffed at her reflection and closed her eyes.
If the Healer wished to be difficult, that was to remain on her. Soon there would come a time when ego would not serve.
Dia had decided to make no effort to assist in the mediwitch's simplistic plans that Minerva had forwarded to her on Tuesday, though fortunately, it seemed that Renata's schedule would only have the potential to overlap with her own by half a day.
Reopening her eyes, Dia leaned forward and was pleased to see a nondescript shade of brown return her stare. Such a small transfiguration would be easy to maintain through the States' security checkpoint, and her documents gave little indication of her Transfiguration Mastery. To the international eye, she was still a small-business owner from Thessaloniki dealing in obscure potions ingredients and rare brews.
Satisfied that her most recognizable trait was successfully hidden, Dia set off, waving a hand to close the veranda doors as she passed through her rooms and waved her small bag to follow. All that was remained was seeing to Hermione's schedule and bidding her goodbyes.
The sound of cheerful voices greeted her ears and soothed her anxious nerves as Dia strode down the long hallway, turning right and blinking slightly as she stepped into the cool morning light of the kitchen. The Elves were seated across from her apprentice at the kitchen table, Hermione's dark skin peeking out from the simple ivory robe draped around her shoulders.
The sight of the witch's rumpled hair and glowing cheeks made her heart constrict for a brief moment… and then the image was interrupted as all three figures turned toward her, their shared amusement abruptly dying as they absorbed her modified appearance with somber expressions.
"Kaliméra," Dia murmured softly, ignoring the stares and moving toward the center island. She waved over an ivory coffee cup.
"Master," Hermione replied quietly. Even as she added cream to her cup, Dia could feel the weight of caramel eyes observing her solemnly.
"I trust Yiayia has informed you of the weekend's schedule?"
Dia moved to take a seat next to Hermione, eyes focused on her coffee as she knew her temporary transfiguration would prove unsettling.
"Of course," Hermione shifted and unconsciously angled herself toward Dia, causing a small ripple in her chest, "I expect most of today will be spent in the library reviewing my Transfiguration thesis… Yiayia plans to pick me up for dinner. Tomorrow Ana will be working with me in the morning and depending on Melina's availability with the children, I will either meet with Konstantinos in the afternoon or evening."
Dia smiled faintly and nodded, glancing up to see both Elves watching them carefully.
"And you know that both Eleni and Stelios shall be available if you need anything."
"Do not worry about me, Master… I am not a child," the reply in Greek caught her off-guard and Dia turned, surprised to find Hermione watching her with an amused expression, "Please be careful?"
"Of course, my darling," she replied immediately, feeling a wave of pride pass through her at Hermione's words. Greek was not an easy language to learn and a majority of her apprentices had stopped trying after they had learned basic conversational phrases. Their bond rippled with warmth and Dia watched as caramel eyes raked across her face as though attempting to memorize it.
"I wish I was coming with you…"
Hermione's voice was low and soft and Dia barely noticed when two small pops! occurred in swift succession. The faint blend of vanilla, honey, and cinnamon reached her nose and Dia found herself leaning forward toward the younger witch.
"Continue studying diligently while I am away. Your assistance will be needed during the Quorum and soon after… the more you can learn, the sooner you can remain at my side."
A honeyed hand snuck forward to smooth Dia's hair and she bit back a shiver, her lips parting automatically as Hermione's hand slid down her neck, a soft thumb gliding across her throat.
"Don't do anything foolish."
Rather than reply, Dia closed the distance between them and leaned forward to envelop Hermione in a smooth hug. Soft curls tickled her cheeks and she felt firm hands slide across her back and pull her close.
Though they had embraced many times before, their bond blossomed with a full pleasing warmth and Dia had to stop herself from pressing into the firm body against her. Beneath the thin layer of silk she could feel the heat of Hermione's strong, muscular body and the quiet desire to fold herself into witch in her arms and caress her one last time as a lover would flashed through her mind like a bolt of lightning.
Strong hands tightened around her and Dia took a deep breath before slowly extracting herself, pulling away and averting her eyes. Hermione would have felt the pulse of her desire, she knew, however there was no time for quiet conversation. Besides, no matter the situation, she disliked long goodbyes.
Dia rose swiftly, summoning her bag as she vanished her cup of coffee away.
"Fulfill your duties, my Apprentice," Dia intoned quietly, adjusting her robes before finally lifting her chin to gaze at the young woman sitting before her.
Caramel eyes met her own in understanding and Hermione inclined her chin, peach lips curling upward in a soft smile.
Before she could give in to the uncharacteristic rush of anxiety that washed through her, Dia vanished in a cloud of white smoke.
Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of their guide.
The nameless witch was a fireball despite her obviously mature age. Upon popping into an abandoned alleyway, he and Ron had immediately been assaulted by the strange woman who appeared as though Summoned and Harry was still having a hell of a time trying to figure out why their initial diagnostics hadn't revealed her presence.
She had stepped out from behind a dumpster with a grin, providing a short code phrase that had assured them she was friend not foe. Unlike most Magical folk, the witch had worn an impeccable royal blue ensemble beneath an elegant ivory coat and had promptly transfigured their robes into tailored Muggle business suits and overcoats that Harry had to admit were rather dashing. Her quick summary of their travel plans was efficient and thorough and he hadn't missed how the witch wielded her wand with assurance that had almost reminded him of Headmistress McGonagall.
After arriving, they had taken a circuitous walk through Muggle London before hopping in a taxi, the witch switching accents to argue with their cabbie whose loud Cockney had assaulted his and Ron's ears. Harry had been surprised at how well the woman seemed to know her way around Muggle London and even more impressed when she had argued over a radio broadcast attempting to rank the top ten football matches of all time.
The cab ride was a bit tense and Harry hadn't missed how Ron clutched his wand beneath the warm black overcoat nor how his friend had continued muttering under his breath, trying to memorize street names as his eyes had darted out the window suspiciously.
They finally arrived to a quiet area in the suburbs and abruptly stopped after a roundabout, the mysterious witch counting out Muggle money deftly and calling after the cabbie with a pleasant wave, and Harry's nerves immediately settled as they stepped into the bright ambiance of a small well-lit restaurant.
The reassuring smell of homemade food assaulted his nose in a mouthwatering blend of spice and warmth, and a quick glance around indicated that there were a number of families and young couples scattered about. It seemed like a nice enough establishment and Harry briefly wondered how Hermione or their mystery guide had happened upon the place.
A quick glance over his shoulder indicated that Ron was just as surprised by the locale as he was, though his friend appeared a bit more uncomfortable - likely due to the unfamiliar environment and his Muggle clothes. However bright blue eyes suddenly lit up and Harry knew that he had spied their friend.
Harry followed Ron's gaze and spied Hermione sitting toward the back of the restaurant, curls pulled back into a casual twist and features peaceful as she spoke quietly with a waitress.
Walking over, Harry felt a flush of pride as he absorbed the witch's elegant figure.
While he had been startled by her transformation at the Order meeting, seeing her in Muggle clothes revealed just how much Hermione had changed. In form-fitting black trousers and a rather beautifully tailored emerald blazer that set off her dark tan nicely, he could see that his friend had somehow transformed into a stunningly pretty witch - one who appeared strong and confident as well as unexpectedly… sexy.
Harry hid a blush as Hermione suddenly turned, her features lighting up as they strode over.
"Harry! Ron!"
Embracing Hermione felt good. The remainder of Harry's nerves fell away as he breathed in the witch's familiar scent, pleased that the hug felt as reassuring and comfortable as it had nearly a year previous.
"Hermione, it's so good to see you," Harry said quietly, a smile breaking across his face as bright white teeth flashed for a moment before disappearing into Ron's arms. Ron's lanky form fairly enveloped her and then Hermione was stepping back, a fond smile settling upon her features before addressing the mysterious witch that had led them.
"Yiayia," Hermione dipped into a gentle curtsy that seemed both out of place and entirely becoming, "Thank you so much for delivering my friends."
The shorter witch gave Hermione a fond smile before sweeping forward and embracing her warmly. He briefly caught the flash of bright blue nails before the elder woman withdrew.
"My pleasure, Hermione," hazel eyes flicked in their direction, "Always a pleasure to help… and what a wonderful opportunity for observation."
The witch now known as Yiayia winked and Hermione glanced over her shoulder to send them a happy smile.
"Thank you," Harry returned, extending a hand, "It was quite the journey."
The witch's eyes danced as she returned the handshake with a strong grip before sharing one with Ron.
"Of course," Yiayia replied smoothly, "I apologize for the subterfuge. Hermione shall fill you in… and please feel free to stay as long as you like. The owners of this restaurant are old family friends and they have assured us that your meeting is welcome," the witch winked again, "I hear the ouzo is to die for."
Ron sent him a confused glance and Harry shook his head to indicate 'later' as Yiayia swept forward to kiss Hermione's cheeks.
"Call me when you are ready, darling. I just have to nip over to Latvia for a moment and then I'll be in Diagon Alley," she whispered.
With a final twinkling wave, the witch departed - pausing at a rather full table to murmur something quietly that made the large family laugh in delight before raising their glasses toward her amongst enthusiastic shouts of "opa!" even as she swept toward the door with a broad smile.
Harry chuckled quietly and shook his head, assured that whomever Yiayia was, he wasn't likely to forget her anytime soon.
"What's ouzo?" Ron asked, turning back toward the two of them with a jovial expression. Harry sniffed and shook his head. Sometimes his friend couldn't resist asking questions that could wait until later.
"A type of Greek liquor… it tastes like licorice," Hermione replied easily as they slid into their seats, "It's ninety proof, so unless you want to wake up with a headache tomorrow, I suggest taking it easy if we try it later."
Ron snorted in amusement and Harry felt a flush of nostalgia as he realized that both he and Ron had chosen to sit across from Hermione, falling into their old school habits with ease even as a waitress floated over with a water pitcher.
Harry waited with raised eyebrows as Hermione deftly pointed to the menu and asked some sort of question, smiling softly as the woman replied with something that made her laugh.
"You speak Greek?" Ron asked incredulously.
"I'm learning," Hermione murmured, blushing lightly as she folded her hands demurely, "I've been spending more time with a few local friends. My master's family has been helping out a lot too."
Caramel eyes waited until the woman disappeared and then flourished her fingers quietly. Harry felt the telltale rush of magic sweep past them and quickly deduced that she had non-verbally and wandlessly cast a few privacy enchantments. Before he could voice his appreciation, Ron beat him to it.
"Geez, Hermione… what do they have you working on over in Greece?" Ron asked, his blue eyes wide, "Since when can you, y'know… do the wandless stuff?"
Hermione sent them a lopsided smile.
"Don't think I can do a good amount of it. It's definitely hard, but I've shifted my focus a bit and started working on it more. It's quite useful," she replied softly. Her eyes crinkled into a light smile and once again, Harry found himself appreciating his friend's beauty with new eyes.
"Well, you look great," Harry blurted before promptly feeling his ears burn, "I mean… not that you didn't before. It's just… it looks like your new life is really agreeing with you."
"Thank you, Harry… that's very sweet of you to say."
Hermione beamed at him even as Ron whacked his leg under the table, clearly indicating that he had wanted to compliment her first. Their friend remained oblivious as she sipped her water, caramel eyes flicking between the two of them happily.
"So, tell me about the Academy. How is your training? Oh! How did your practicals go?"
Harry opened his mouth to reply and shut it in confusion. Ron shared his bewildered look. How did she know about those?
"Relax… Master Kallas said that Minerva said that the Weasleys had said you were both studying," Hermione laughed, rolling her eyes lightly. "Honestly, I don't have superpowers."
"Yeah, whatever," Ron mumbled, chuckling softly.
"Things are really good… it's been tough, but I think we both feel that we're on a pathway that matches our goals," Harry put forth, glancing at Ron for confirmation. "Gawain Robards is our class advisor - you saw him at the Order meeting… he's kind of taken us both under his wing and I'm pretty sure he's going to take us both on as apprentices next term when we move on into more fieldwork."
"Gawain's amazing," Ron was nodding seriously, "He reminds me a bit of Remus but with a harder edge. The man has seen a lot… and unlike some of the other teachers he does a good job of balancing what happened to us during the War with what we're capable of now."
"So you don't have to address your teachers by their formal titles?" Hermione asked curiously.
Harry laughed. Trust Hermione to pick up on such a small detail.
"No… only if we're out in the field or shadowing them someplace that people will care - like the Ministry, maybe. But there's only eleven people in our cohort and eight professors total, the majority of whom have already seen us at our absolute worst," he explained, "When the work is this hard… and these people are testing your limits, your greatest fears, and then pushing you to go past them… the titles kind of just fall away."
Hermione nodded even as Ron laughed and shook his head.
"I can't even imagine calling Gawain 'Professor Robards' on a daily basis," he chuckled. "The man has literally cleaned up my piss, vomit, blood, and gods knows what else. I'd probably trust him to deliver my firstborn."
Hermione's eyebrows rose up toward her hairline as Harry explained.
"He's talking about last year during our Fear unit. They're extra hard on recruits in the first year of training because they need to weed out people who are serious from those who are just looking for thrill and adventure," he told her. "During the second term we all had to face a series of practical tests in which they essentially try to terrify us in every way possible so that we can master our instinctive responses and still get through a series of tasks."
"Did anyone drop?" Hermione asked softly. Dark eyes seemed rather sad.
Ron's lips twisted.
"Only one. She was a phenomenal witch… but… some things happened to her and her family during the War and she had to call it quits when she couldn't get through it," he said softly and Harry sighed as he remembered.
Jeannine had been absolutely phenomenal… but the Academy existed to test an individual's limits. All of the professors had been right there with them as they had worked through the Fear unit as individuals, and there had been a number of St. Mungo's Healers available who had also provided services. Harry himself had realized just how much baggage he had left over from the War... and Gawain and the others had been there to patch him up afterwards. They were the closest thing to family he had ever experienced - aside from Ron and Hermione, of course.
"We were all proud of her though," Harry finished. "She took care of herself in the end and that was far more important than getting through the training. She wrote us a letter saying she's currently in therapy and it's one of the best things she's ever done for herself. Gawain says she'll still be eligible to come back anytime in the next three years if she wants to finish."
Hermione's eyes were shining with some sort of unidentifiable emotion and Harry was briefly surprised when she simply smiled softly and nodded her understanding.
"I see that you've both grown in many ways," she said quietly, her eyes momentarily hidden as she looked down toward her hands. Something about the opaque statement told him that their friend had more to say, but that she wasn't quite ready to put it forward. Harry briefly noted that her palms looked rather worn and calloused, and that their tanned backs had a number of scrapes and smaller nicks. Potions…
A moment later those hands flourished again and the noise from the restaurant suddenly blossomed as if someone had turned up the volume. Harry turned to see their waitress returning.
"Wow, that was fast!"
Ron's appreciative comment was underscored by the arrival of several steaming plates and Harry's mouth watered as Hermione grinned at both of them.
"I figured that you might have already eaten lunch… but from the looks on your faces it seems I was right in guessing that you could still stand to eat a bit more," she laughed, "I took the liberty of ordering our meal before you arrived."
"This is insane! D'you eat this stuff everyday?" Ron asked, looking over the different plates with wide appreciative eyes. Hermione took a moment to murmur something to their waitress that might've been a thank-you before responding.
"Not everything. This is a spread you might see at Sunday lunch with the full family, but generally we try to stick to a cleaner diet than this."
"What for?" Harry asked, inhaling loudly through his teeth as the flavored fry he put in his mouth nearly scalded his tongue. Ron chortled.
"Master Kallas and I both train fairly intensively to stay in good shape. You've probably learned the same thing at the Academy, no? Physical strength has a direct correlation to magical strength," Hermione briefly stood to dump a few more items onto their plates.
Harry experienced a surreal jolt as he realized his friend suddenly reminded him of Molly Weasley. Before he could ask after the witch's curious statement, Hermione was pointing at different things on the table and giving short explanations of everything they were eating.
For a few undetermined minutes, everything felt as it had during their old times together at Hogwarts. Ron was highly impressed and kept making a number of asides declaring the Muggle cuisine nearly as good as his mother's, which was high praise indeed. Harry was happy to tuck into the unexpected meal with enthusiasm, though he couldn't help but notice the smaller differences in the witch across the table, the least of which was her changed appearance.
Hermione had grown… and the small differences he and Ron had picked up during the Order meeting seemed to magnify as they continued their meal. She seemed more confident and self-assured, that much was certain - not that she had been awkward or ungainly at Hogwarts, but there was simply a newfound poise that she exuded that made her seem much more mature and elegant than he remembered.
The brief mention of exercise became apparent when Hermione had deftly tugged her sleeves back to reveal toned forearms, and Harry finally recognized that a good amount of the witch's change seemed to involve her physicality. Hermione looked strong… and more present in her body which was far cry from the stooped, anxious girl he remembered who had always been weighed down by a satchel full of books.
Eventually the conversation came back around and his friend managed to get at the heart of things first as Harry helped himself to a third round of something called spanakopita.
"So what do you do, then?" Ron asked between mouthfuls, "For your training, that is?"
Hermione paused and dabbed her mouth gently.
"Most mornings I wake up and go for an hour swim. Afterwards I'll alternate between hiking or rock-climbing on the nearest mountain, otherwise a combination of running or weight-training," Hermione said casually, taking a demure bite of something she had called moussaka, "It's been quite fun, actually."
Harry and Ron exchanged an incredulous look. Their Hermione - Queen of the Library and bookworm extraordinaire - was professing enjoyment of physical activity? The concept was rather astounding and Harry briefly realized that he couldn't recall one instance of having even discussed the concept of exercise with their friend.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," Hermione snapped, rolling her eyes, "Hogwarts was hardly the place to stay in shape, and if it hadn't been for Quidditch, neither of you two would have done much either!"
"Touché," Ron replied easily, shoveling some sort of lamb dish into his mouth. The groan of appreciation inspired Harry to put some on his own plate.
Hermione shook her head and sniffed.
"I see time hasn't changed your table manners," she quipped lightly.
"I'll have you know that I can be perfectly civilized in polite company," Ron retorted, flashing her a messy grin. He nudged Harry's elbow, "Tell 'er, Harry!"
"What was it that Umbitch had me write? Oh right, 'I must not tell lies'," Harry replied good-naturedly, flashing his left hand toward Ron. The scar still stood out against his skin in a shiny white scrawl.
Ron chortled and pounded it with his own fist before turning back toward his plate. He froze with a fork halfway to his mouth and Harry glanced across the table to see Hermione staring at them with a stricken expression upon her face.
Oh… shit.
"Merlin, Hermione, I'm sorry…" Harry said softly, his fork clattering to the plate as he reached out to grab her wrist, "I forgot myself for a moment."
Thin tendrils of guilt wrapped around his chest as Hermione visibly took a breath, her lashes fluttering gently.
"It's fine, Harry… I suppose I just never imagined you'd be able to joke about something like that," she said softly, not quite meeting his eyes.
The feeling of guilt intensified as he and Ron shared a look.
"Hermione…" Ron began softly, "It's not that we've forgotten. And we certainly haven't dismissed what happened to us during the War. It's just that… in the course of our training we had time to confront the past and work through all the terrifying psychological 'what-if's' that continued to haunt us. Umbridge is a thing of the past and we've moved on with our lives. She can't hurt us, Hermione."
"Gawain calls our training 'guerrilla therapy'," Harry continued quietly, hoping his friend would understand, "And that's kinda what it was like. It was hard as hell… humiliating at times, but we got through it. Everyone around us was supportive and most importantly we were able to face up to our greatest fears and own them. I guess along the way we also learned that having a sense of humor really helps keep things in perspective."
Caramel eyes were bright with unshed tears and Harry cursed inwardly, forgetting how sensitive Hermione could be.
"I understand."
Harry sat back slightly at the unexpectedly clipped tones, brows furrowing in confusion when the moment seemed to pass and Hermione regarded them both with a serene expression. He blinked in surprise.
"You are right," she said clearly, her voice strong and stable, "Umbridge is a thing of the past and I'm proud of you both for having made strides to move forward. And she is a bitch, by the way."
Their friend sniffed lightly and stabbed a stray vegetable with her fork.
"You're… sure you're all right?" Harry asked uncertainly, brow furrowing as he searched his friend's features.
Hermione's expression softened and she twirled her zucchini absently.
"Yes. Forgive me… I didn't expect your comment, but I understand why you're able to joke about it. I suppose I'm so used to being around others who didn't participate in the War that you caught me off guard with the reminder. You of all people deserve to make light of things if you're comfortable enough. Perhaps it is good practice to put such things out in the open."
Harry resisted the urge to look at Ron for reassurance as a number of other questions suddenly surfaced in his mind, the least of which was his friend's unexpected reaction. She's so… calm. So… rational.
So completely unlike the witch he remembered. At least, when it came to her emotions.
"How are you, Hermione?"
His quiet question caused his friend to still slightly and Hermione set down her fork and sat back for a moment. The serene expression faltered and Harry caught a glimpse of the more stormy depths beneath before beautiful features smoothed over again.
"I did mean it when I wrote that I was 'fine'," Hermione replied slowly, giving him an amused smile, "But I suppose with recent events, I would add that I'm feeling confused. Tired from the extra lessons I've been putting in with my master and members of her family. Anxious about the course of my Apprenticeships and a few upcoming Society-related events. And a bit guilty and conflicted that I've decided not to return to Great Britain immediately."
"A person couldn't feel that many things at once. They'd explode!"
Hermione's lips curved upward into a slow smile as her eyes flicked over toward Ron.
"Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have."
A moment later they were all chuckling with the familiar joke even as Harry felt a surge of affection for his friend.
Ron always knew the right thing to say.
"Go on… keep eating," Hermione sighed, shaking her head with a smile, "I'll get to everything that I promised. I have a lot to tell you both today and we have plenty of time. Besides, you haven't tried the kolokithokeftedes yet!"
"Bless you," said Ron, eliciting another eyeroll.
"They're good… try them with the tzatziki," Hermione insisted, dumping two small fritters onto Harry's plate with a flourish.
Harry smiled at his friend across the table, realizing that it felt good to have her nag them slightly. It was like a small puzzle piece of his life had returned to its place and he briefly felt a flash of appreciation that time and distance hadn't managed to change the friendship that would always remain.
However beneath that, something else tugged… and Harry was surprised to find himself watching the witch across the table with a careful eye. Hermione had obviously changed and grown in ways that suited her, but he couldn't help but feel that the witch was holding onto things with more history than perhaps he or Ron could comprehend.
It was an unsettling feeling… and Harry wondered just what else their friend had in store.
Ron nibbled on a fry absently as he listened to Hermione speak, her hands gesturing elegantly as she regaled them with a brief overview of her new life as an apprentice.
From the circuitous way she spoke of her new life and her varied activities, he had gathered that she didn't live on the mainland of Greece, but likely on one of its many islands. It was also clear that wherever her master lived, it was bound by a Fidelius, and that even if she had wanted to share the location, she couldn't.
That had been easy enough to take in stride and Ron had briefly felt apologetic for prior bouts of irritation back when the witch had first moved out of Great Britain. Hearing about her new life and her studies helped alleviate his worry, and from the enthusiastic way that Hermione spoke of her master, Ron could understand why she was so enthralled with her studies. The witch sounded like an incredible mentor.
"- will all lead toward a number of practical and theoretical exams before I submit my theses to both Societies for academic review," Hermione was saying, fingers delicately dousing a fry in liberal amount of tzatziki.
"So what are your theses, then?" Harry asked, brow furrowed even as Ron reached out to smack him with the back of his hand. Sometimes his friend could be so dense.
"Harry, you can't just ask her. D'you really remember nothing from our debates on Magical law last winter?" he hissed, glaring as Harry gave him a bewildered look.
Hermione's eyebrows were lifted in amusement as she watched them from across the table, clearly surprised that he was coming to her aid.
"Until her work is published in a public forum, it's taboo! It goes against her Mastery contract to talk about it!"
Harry sent him another glare before pinning Hermione with an apologetic expression.
"Don't worry," she said quickly, holding up an understanding hand, "It's all very convoluted. Fortunately for you, I'm just in my first classifications, so I can't be greatly offended for the question. Anyone higher though, you'd probably be groveling."
Hermione sent Harry a soft smile.
"How many classifications are there?" Harry asked curiously and Ron rolled his eyes before whacking him again.
"You can't just ask!"
"Well how I am I supposed to know this stuff if it's all secret?" Harry asked angrily, whacking him back. "Merlin… I can't just divine it, all right? 'Sides… it's Hermione… I'm making an effort here."
Across the table Hermione finally laughed - a bright musical sound that was both familiar and entirely alien in its rippling elegance. Ron sniffed and shook his head.
"Honestly, Harry… don't you read?" he asked seriously, eliciting another laugh from both his friends.
Hermione's cheeks were glowing and Harry rolled his eyes as he raked a hand through his hair. Black tufts stood up in every direction and Ron clapped his friend on the back reassuringly as Harry sighed loudly. Harry was getting better, but sometimes Ron still forgot that he hadn't grown up in the Wizarding world.
"Society rules prevent me from talking about that," Hermione replied eventually, her eyes still twinkling as she sat forward to explain.
"Basically this arrangement continues to exist because of our history with the ISOS. Masters and apprentices were frequently persecuted together prior to the ISOS because they used to enter into contracts with one another that would tie their magic together. Part of those arrangements were for ease of learning - a master could better help their student if they understood more about how their student processed information… the other part was for safety. If one of them was captured by crusading Muggles, the other had a better chance of coming to their aid."
Ron wrinkled his nose as he shuddered lightly. He never liked hearing about the ages prior to the ISOS for the sheer insanity that history seemed to reveal. It was almost unfathomable to imagine crowds of angry Muggles tearing apart innocent families due to fear… or to think about those old masters trying to teach their students in secret, going as far as binding their magic together in a vain effort to keep each other safe.
Insane...
It was noble, yes. But still insane.
A glance to his right indicated that Harry was avidly trying to understand and despite his own internal monologue which felt so black and white, Ron knew that some aspects of their world would still elude his friend for many more years.
"After the ISOS, the world obviously became much safer… however it still took several more decades for the old fears to die away. And by that time, Societies were already well established, and rather than protecting themselves… masters soon began protecting their lines of research. It's continued through to now, and Societies continue to supersede Magical law on occasion because the rules that bind us are just as severe, if not worse at times."
Hermione leaned across the table and placed a hand between them, clearly willing Harry to understand.
"Our work is sacred, Harry," she said softly, "The higher you go in any discipline, the more magic begins to blend the laws of nature. Society rules forbid us from discussing our work with unqualified persons simply because some of our research would be far too dangerous to let slip into the wrong hands. We are also forbidden of speaking of our classification systems because it would endanger those whose research presses against some of those laws."
Harry was nodding quietly, a pensive expression on his face as he absorbed their friend's fervent words.
"Makes you wonder why Voldemort didn't just wrangle an army of masters," Ron joked.
Hermione's expression fell slightly and she sat back, twisting her napkin in both hands. Uh oh...
"Well… you did hear what Minerva said at the Order meeting. Her former apprentice might be involved and even though he was dismissed, it still doesn't bode well that he abandoned Society rule," she murmured quietly. Ron wrinkled his nose.
"Since when do you call her Minerva?" Harry asked curiously. Ron rolled his eyes and bit back a snarky comment. Of all things to ask…
Unexpectedly, the question caused Hermione to smile in a soft and distant manner that made his heart clench slightly.
"Well it's no secret that she was my Master's Mistress, so I don't see the harm in talking about it. In Society, her relationship to Master Kallas makes her my Eminent Mistress… it's considered an honored role in our 'Family,'" Ron's eyes zeroed in on full lips that worked to conceal a smile as it threatened to blossom again, "And also, simply because she asked it of me."
Ron's eyebrows lifted slightly, though he supposed it wasn't that surprising. Of the three of them, Hermione had always been closest to their former Head of House, and even if the Headmistress of Hogwarts remained a tad too intimidating for his own liking… he could definitely imagine her regarding Hermione with a bit more equality now that she had essentially decided to follow in her own footsteps.
"So, even if he didn't attain a Mastery, he still has the 'Family Secrets'?" Harry asked, clearly bringing the conversation back to the Headmistress' mystery apprentice, "Are you worried about what he might have learned from McGonagall?"
Hermione tilted her head thoughtfully.
"I suppose I am. I understood that Petrus D'Artagnan never finished his first classifications which would have put him in a similar position knowledge-wise to me right now. I can tell you honestly that most of what I've learned has been theoretical, and everything that I know about Minerva suggests that she would have introduced her apprentices to challenging material in a similar way," she replied slowly, "So, while I'm not concerned that he might've learned research or 'secrets' as you say, I am concerned that he's learned the basics of how Societies function. Much like you and Ron now know how the Academy works and how Aurors are trained to operate."
"So you're worried he'll take on the institutions themselves?" Ron asked soberly. Hermione's lashes fluttered again and her lips twisted.
"Yes… and no. I'm grasping at wands here, honestly," she replied, opening her hands slightly, "But if Minerva thinks he's a threat and is definitely involved in the ISOS attacks, then he's a threat and probably involved. She would have never accepted anyone who wasn't close to a genius, and even if he was lazy as she said… it doesn't mean that he didn't receive a solid foundation for learning Dark magic."
Ron sat back and mused over that bit of information as his thoughts began to turn toward the unfurling mystery that remained before them. Their adventures together back at Hogwarts had seemed so straightforward and clear cut.
Get the Philosopher's stone. Kill the basilisk. Take down Voldemort.
He and Harry had already spoken of their mutual unease regarding the Order meeting and the cards as they currently lay on the table. There were too many unknown variables… and this time, instead of dealing with Great Britain, they were looking at a worldwide conspiracy.
The dark thoughts did not bode well at all.
"Is there anything else you can tell us?" Harry asked softly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, giving voice to the question Ron had been about to ask.
Hermione sniffed mirthlessly before leaning back, passing a hand over her loose twist as she frowned at the table between them.
"I was hoping you might have more news from home. Maybe something about Sturgis' death?"
Ron stabbed a fry.
"We haven't really had a chance to speak with anyone about it," he replied honestly, "My father has taken over Sturgis' position as the Deputy Head to the Ministry's Investigative Department, and we're both pretty sure that McGonagall was in on his wife's disappearance, but beyond that-"
"Nothing," Harry finished.
Hermione took a deep breath and nodded before turning and fishing in a small purse at her side.
"I want to give you something."
Harry glanced at him and they both leaned across the table with interest.
"These are variations on our D.A. coins," Hermione explained, handing them each a gold coin, "I've been doing a lot of thinking and I was hoping you would both do me the favor of helping me stay up to date on information as it's happening back home. I'll be of more use if I'm not constantly learning of developments last minute. These coins have the ability to record short messages, and while I'm working-"
"So that means you're going to rejoin the Order?" Harry interrupted excitedly, twiddling the new coin between his fingers.
"Yes," Hermione replied, clearly biting back a smile, "We both are. Master Kallas has agreed to join with me."
"That's great!" Ron exclaimed, genuinely relieved to hear the news. A great pressure lifted from his chest as he beamed across the table, pleased when his enthusiastic response earned a shy smile in return.
"Your master, too?" Harry asked in confusion, even as Ron kicked him underneath the table.
"Certainly, Harry," Hermione replied, her brow furrowing slightly, "Originally I was worried that she was only joining because I was essentially forcing her to join me with our contract, but Master Kallas wants to help."
Ron groaned inwardly as Harry sent him a look. Though he silently agreed with Harry's hesitation, predictably it caused Hermione to sit forward with a glare.
"What?" she asked sharply and Ron winced.
"Well… we've just heard a bit more about her back home, Hermione," Harry said softly, clearly unsure of how the news would be accepted, "We've gathered that she's a bit… er, controversial."
To their combined surprise, Hermione's glare dissolved after a moment, and she simply sighed and sat back, twisting her water glass in one hand as her brows drew together slightly.
"It is difficult for me to talk about my master's personal history without betraying my contract with her or the rules of my Societies," she said quietly, "however, I can speak around those rules because I know that defending her honor is part of my duty as her Apprentice."
Ron was pleased that Harry wisely chose to remain silent even as their friend's soft words elicited an unfamiliar feeling… almost like unease. Something about her phrasing seemed familiar, but it rankled.
"You both know that Master Kallas was part of the first Order," Hermione stated, glancing up to see them both nod, "She joined while apprenticing beneath Minerva. What little I know beyond that is directly from Minerva herself, though you must promise me not to repeat it to other members of the Order and not to go digging around in other people's business."
Ron nodded seriously as Harry did the same. It was clear that Hermione knew more about the mysterious witch than they did and he decided to reserve judgement until learning more. Everything their friend had mentioned in the tales from her new life seemed to indicate the woman was an excellent mentor. If Hermione trusted her, then she clearly had reason for it. They would simply have to wait.
Hermione sighed softly, her expression pensive.
"I don't know the exact details… but somehow Master Kallas was betrayed during the First War and the Death Eaters managed to use her family against her. I've gathered that her elder sister was likely murdered… as well as her nephew and his family. Whatever happened tore her apart and she left before the War concluded."
Ron took a deep breath as he absorbed that bit of information. It certainly explained some of the tension he had witnessed at The Burrow… especially if Hermione's master had left the Order during a critical time.
Loyalty was a big matter in the Weasley household, though after his own experiences and having gone through Fear training with his comrades, Ron could absolutely understand why someone would have left the Order after experiencing such trauma.
"Do you know who betrayed her?" Harry asked quietly.
Ron was continuing to filter through the information he knew about the witch. His mother seemed suspicious of her, but not his father… and McGonagall obviously wasn't, though Gawain had slipped a few other asides to indicate he was optimistically cautious.
All of that together left him feeling a bit divided.
"No… and while I am just as curious about the matter as you, I do not plan to go digging around in her past if I feel it will unearth old suspicions. I ask that you do the same," Hermione said firmly, lifting her eyebrows slightly, "It's probably hard enough for Master Kallas to revisit Great Britain as it is, let alone to have the older members dredging up her painful past."
"D'you think we can still trust her?" Ron asked suddenly, one hand stroking his beard absently, "I mean… knowing that she cut out of the last War, how do you know she actually wants to participate in whatever is coming?"
Hermione's expression suddenly turned thunderous and she sat forward slowly, her eyes growing dark as she fixed Ron with a fierce glare.
"I will not hear a single word against my master, Ronald Weasley, is that understood?"
The quiet tone made the low threat even more terrible and Ron found himself leaning away out of reflex, staring at the lone finger the witch had lifted in warning. In retrospect, using the word "trust" probably hadn't been his wisest moment… but seeing the cold look in Hermione's eyes, Ron felt a chill run down his spine, briefly wondering who this new witch was and where their old friend had gone.
But then, caramel eyes blinked and Hermione abruptly deflated, sitting back with a rueful smile as she huffed quietly.
"Master Kallas has gone out of her way to ensure that I have been kept safe and informed through all of these recent events, Ron. In some ways, she's setting aside her life to rejoin the Order simply because she knows that I can't fathom remaining on the sidelines if the rest of you are mobilizing to counter this new threat. We're going forward as a team… you can trust her allegiance as you do in mine."
"It's sounds like you're rather close," Harry observed quietly. Ron felt a flash of gratitude for the mediating comment as their friend visibly softened.
"We are, Harry," Hermione replied wistfully, "I've… never felt a connection like this with anyone before. Not even Minerva."
Ron's eyebrows rose upward and a small glance to the side indicated that Harry was surprised as well.
That was high praise, indeed.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron said softly, reaching out to grasp her hand, "I just… want to make sure we're all setting ourselves up for success. And that, most importantly, you're going to be safe."
Hermione gave him a warm look as she squeezed his hand, her thumb lingering for a moment before full lips tipped upward into a grateful smile. Ron felt a familiar ache blossom in his chest and he flushed slightly before sitting back, trying to ignore how Hermione had chosen to resettle herself - draping across the back of her chair in an elegant yet suggestive manner that seemed entirely foreign to him.
"I trust her implicitly… and I know beyond any doubt that she is on our side, regardless of how she appears to others and what others might say," Hermione concluded, her expression taking on a Sphinx-like quality.
"Now… before we get off track too much, take out your coins. I have a few things I want to show you."
With remembered obedience of years past, he and Harry did just that before catching each other mid-gesture and laughing as they realized how quickly Hermione had managed to order them into submission.
Pulling forward the new coin, Ron glanced across the table to find Hermione watching them with a peculiar expression before noticing his attention and smoothing her features into something more reminiscent of her familiar indulgent smiles.
The shift was quick, but it surprised Ron nonetheless and even as he peered as his coin quietly and marveled at his friend's ingenious capabilities when it came to magic, another part of him silently acknowledged the disconnect he'd been feeling since they'd arrived.
Unlike the honest Gryffindor lioness that he remembered - who had always worn her heart on her sleeve and cried at the drop of a hat, it seemed that Hermione had somehow learned the ways of the serpents… learning to conceal her thoughts and emotions with the care and subtlety more suited to a Slytherin, and Ron realized that incongruity was rather frightening.
He twirled the new coin in his fingers and tried to ignore the weight of the stone that suddenly settled in his stomach. While a part of him hoped that Hermione had simply picked up on traits from her enigmatic master, another part was worried that something had happened to her.
Something he and Harry had missed…
Ron wasn't sure he could handle that.