Monday, Nov. 29 (four days before the Quorum)
Dia leaned against a warm brick wall as she absently scuffed a heel against dusty asphalt and waited. Tired eyes were hidden behind reflective sunglasses and despite the current of anticipation buzzing through her system, she felt a fleeting thrum of contentment at simply blending into the colorful snapshot of daily streetlife.
Across the bustling street, her subject seemed content to shoot the breeze with a street vendor, laughing raucously as he slapped the other man on the shoulder. The two men laughed and spoke loudly, with the arrogant assuredness of those accustomed to power, something that Dia had absorbed with patience, amusement, and a practical sort of acceptance.
The flow of street traffic gave the two men a noticeably wide berth and Dia had noted multiple pairs of eyes skitter away upon catching at least one flash of silver tucked into worn denim.
Muggles could be so predictable.
The Disillusionment took away most of her need for pretending to do anything other than what she was currently doing. But still, Dia took time to consider her treat which she held carefully balanced in two hands, loathe to let any of the butter go to waste as she watched her subject from afar.
The elote was fresh and full of flavor, perfectly roasted with just a hint of lime and salt. Unlike the Mexican version, no mayonnaise was needed. Above, the sun was growing quite warm and Dia ignored the trickle of sweat that slithered down her neck.
A Cooling Charm would have taken little more than a gesture, however Dia was determined to keep her Magical signature as unobtrusive as possible.
Besides… there is no one here to assist if you are compromised.
Movement across the way drew her attention and Dia's eyes narrowed, watching as her subject shouted a greeting… one hand raised in casual welcome even as his demeanor abruptly changed. The casual bravado had been replaced by carefully concealed fear. Another glance indicated that the street vendor had already made himself scarce. Someone important was arriving.
Leaning forward, she turned her focus to the right, already reasonably assured of who she would see. A pair of women crossed her field of vision, chatting amicably and rearranging their colorful baskets and shawls as they gossiped and Dia tossed the now-finished husk to one side, leaving the safety of her shadowy perch behind a stack of blankets.
No one noticed when it simply disappeared into thin air.
Cancelling her Disillusionment, Dia strode forward.
It was time for answers.
"Apprentice?"
The young witch sitting upon the couch flinched, expression falling slightly as she straightened upon the dark leather with a penitent air.
Turning away from the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the steep cobblestoned lane below, her aunt's apprentice deliberately angled herself toward Ana with a guilty twist of her lips.
"I apologize, Ana."
Hermione's voice was appropriately repentant, but that was not what caused Ana to frown in response.
It was the third time in the past hour that the young woman had allowed her attention to slip away toward the bustling port. Ana was almost tempted to transfigure the office windows into a solid wall out of sheer irritation, but a different thought suddenly crossed her mind.
"I suppose my aunt neglected to mention the side-effects of long distance separation," she found herself remarking dryly, shaking her head as she circled around to lean a hip against her desk. Raking her eyes over the tired young witchling before her, she allowed her features to soften.
"It appears you are suffering from the typical lack of focus, fatigue, and immunodeficiency associated with bonded pairs."
The young woman's eyes widened in recognition and she sat up a little straighter. Long lashes blinked dramatically and Ana found her lips twisting at the endearingly naïve display. The British witchling could be rather… cute.
"What? I haven't read any such findings!"
Ana sniffed and barely managed to save herself from an eye-roll. That youthful indignance was almost amusing. But now was not the time for distractions.
"Be thankful your bond is not formal. The effect would be tenfold."
At that, Hermione actually blanched and Ana twirled a hand impatiently to Summon a Brightening brew from her private stores. Pressing off her desktop she took a few steps forward and crossed her arms as she gazed down at her young charge.
"I haven't the time to negotiate our schedule around your malaise, and neither do you. But be cautious of your Potion intake over the next several days, Apprentice," she instructed firmly. "Every good Brewer must do well to remember that our discipline is meant to assist with, and not to supplant the body's natural rhythms."
Hermione's chin dropped a few centimeters.
"Yes, Ana."
Ana rolled her eyes at the meek tone and snapped her fingers to prompt the younger witch into accepting the small phial that had appeared just off her left elbow. Hermione jumped before grasping it with another guilty look. Ana glared in annoyance and paced a small circle around herself.
"I am not your Mistress and I do not need your unquestioning obedience. Your focus and your actions are enough for today. We have other materials we need to cover if you are to progress with your... extracurricular studies," she snapped, changing course and striding for one of the octagonal bookshelves adorning the far wall of her study.
They were already well behind in the materials that Ana had intended for them to cover for the morning. She had hoped that the young woman would breeze through the incidental asides related to Quorum rulings and Gallery conduct, however Hermione's mind seemed to be acting a sieve rather than the steel-trap she had already come to expect. It was frustrating, however Ana was doing her best to remain understanding of the young woman's fragile mood.
It had been easy enough to reconcile the witchling's demand upon her time once the rest of the family had been requisitioned to assist in her studies. While Ana was still reluctant to admit it aloud, Hermione was an excellent student and a pleasure to teach… and at the very least, it had given the family a burst of new material to discuss amongst one another outside of the usual extended family drama and Hellenic council gossip.
While her aunt's past apprentices had always matched the girl's zest for learning, Hermione's ambition was somehow far more compelling than Ana recalled from past interactions with students. Only one witch came to mind who could have matched Hermione's well-rounded interest in all magical matters, though there was something almost noble in this new witchling's attitude that Konstantinos had already declared to be "morally inspiring."
Ana wasn't prepared to give her stamp of approval so quickly, however she was forced to admit that Hermione's most recent request had piqued her interest… as well as her penchant for devilry.
Smoothing a hand over her hair out of habit, Ana folded her arms as she sighed quietly and considered one of her favorite bookshelves.
The geometric blossom of black wood housed more of her nontraditional Wizarding texts, a majority of which were carefully warded for safe-keeping. Perusing the titles carefully, she directed the next question over her shoulder, ready to move on from their brief pause in the day's work.
"You do wish to conceal your thoughts from my aunt, do you not?"
The momentary silence was longer than she expected.
Ana turned to find Hermione regarding her with a slightly stricken expression that took a moment to smooth before the witch nodded once in affirmation. Ana's eyes narrowed before she returned her focus to the bookshelf and began unraveling the protective enchantments with a practiced series of gestures.
"Then what has transpired that has simultaneously removed both your focus and your backbone today?" she asked icily, giving into her temper just a little. "For all your inventive questioning last we spoke, it seems I have met ghosts with greater substance."
At hearing no immediate answer, Ana turned again - a sharper barb ready to fall from her lips when she saw that Hermione seemed to have deflated. The young woman was slumped forward, head in hand and despite her irritation at their slow progress through the morning, Ana felt a flash of intuitive concern.
"Yesterday… Yiayia… she took me home to visit my closest friends…" The halting explanation paused as Hermione finally looked up, offering a feeble half-smile, "Home.. to London."
Ana waited, willing her expression to remain neutral even as the young witch provided an explanation of what she already knew. Yiayia had indicated the trip to London had been emotional for the witchling.
"It had been quite awhile since I'd spoken with either of my friends and there were several topics that arose for which I wasn't quite prepared," Long lashes fluttered for a moment before Hermione shrugged listlessly, "I suppose I am still processing everything."
So… not just a simple case of bond-sickness.
The young woman turned away, her gaze growing hazy as her eyes rose to watch the fringe of ivy fluttering down from the scalloped terracotta rooftop just outside the windows. Ana waited, observing the young woman quietly as the pensive expression was briefly replaced by a shadow of pain. The quickly morphing micro-expressions told her that there was significantly more to the story than she had just heard.
Ana's eyes narrowed as she took stock of the exhausted witchling before her.
This does not bode well.
Before she could formulate a careful response, Hermione surprised her by continuing.
"As you say, I suppose that Mast-Dia's absence is not helping matters either… I really wish… I mean... I... just miss-" Hermione abruptly closed her mouth and straightened, though the expression of fatigue and what Ana now knew to be melancholy did not lesson as she turned.
"I apologize, Ana. I know your time is valuable."
The witch sent her an apologetic half-smile, but rather than respond immediately, Ana turned back to her bookshelf and plucked another thick tome from its place as she thought hard.
The wave of empathy she felt for her aunt's Apprentice would have to be meditated upon at a later time, however Dia had charged her with the witch's protection in her absence and something told her that Hermione was beginning to buckle beneath the increased demands of her Mastery and new life direction.
Whether it was her theses or the Quorum or the Order of the Phoenix, Ana did not know. Perhaps it was exactly as the witchling said - the brief reminder of home and difficulties renegotiating lateral relationships in the wake of her new life on Naxos.
Perhaps it was all matters combined.
Ana felt another flash of frustration.
There was still so much about the young woman that remained a mystery… whether her aunt was willing to admit it or not. And despite the rocky start to her fledgling relationship with Hermione, Ana felt a wave of protectiveness for the young woman; for the moment, it was also within her interest to follow it.
And it seems that the trip to Great Britain has unearthed several matters of importance…
Ana buried another thrum of irritation directed toward her family.
Yiayia, she could handle.
And when Dia returned, they would have words, but now was not the time.
From the beginning - or at least as soon as Dia had begun singing the young woman's praises, Ana had been the first to suggest that the witch's diligence was unnatural. Admittedly, the notion had been laced with accusation and jealousy prompted by tales of Hermione's prowess and Dia's upsetting decrease in available time, however Ana had long since let that snitch fly. Her aunt's subsequent lesson had been harsh but necessary, and Ana had been willing to concede the point gracefully.
However, almost as soon as she had begun working with Hermione directly, Ana had revisited her initial observation, informed this time by personal experience.
The near-eidetic memory was a skill that the young woman seemed to have carefully honed over the years, but not even that accounted for all of the witch's abilities.
Hermione's single-minded determination and almost-militant ability to focus on a task without the slightest distraction - those were skills that hinted toward experience beneath significant pressure and possibly duress.
Why Dia refused to acknowledge the obvious remained beyond her.
Stroking a long finger over the spine of a book, Ana ignored the object's quiet purr as her eyes passed over titles unseeingly.
Hermione's mood seemed to have changed drastically since her visit to Great Britain the day previous. While the young witch had already been well on her way to exhaustion as a combined effect from her studies and the events of the previous week, Ana had worked with the woman on Saturday and been pleasantly impressed at how much ground they had covered in preparation for the Quorum.
Now, it seemed that the young woman was falling apart at the seams.
Ana frowned as her fingertips snagged upon a familiar plum-colored tome. The faded gold lettering flashed as she pulled it from its resting place with an irritable yank.
Of course Yiayia would have rushed the girl into matters with far greater roots than she could have foreseen. The elder witch's assessment of the jaunt to Great Britain had been positive and Ana felt a flash of irritation as she quietly surmised that once again, her great aunt's Kefalas confidence had blinded her from seeing what was directly in front of her.
Hermione was struggling through something personal… whether a present challenge or a past one, Ana couldn't say, though the fact that the young woman's shift in demeanor had been precipitated by a visit with her close friends did not seem to be a good sign.
"Ana, did you mention immunodeficiency?"
The young woman's non-sequitur drew her from her thoughts and Ana strode back toward the leather couch with more purpose than she felt, two books clutched in hand as she frowned at the young woman currently preoccupying her thoughts. Hermione seemed pale despite her deep tan, and a closer glance revealed that the Brightening potions did not seem to have the desired effect.
The witch was looking up at her with a curious expression, oblivious to her inner turmoil.
"Earlier… when you were talking about bonded pairs. You mentioned that immunodeficiency could be a symptom of long-distance separation?"
Ana sat, puzzled by the shift in topic.
"There has not been a great deal of research into the nature of bonds between Magical persons, however it has long been common knowledge that separation can lower an individual's ability to stave off illness and fight infection," she replied evenly, unsure of which direction the witch's questions were headed.
"Why?"
"Why do you suppose, Apprentice?"
Hermione bit her lip and tilted her head as Ana noted the dark circles beneath amber eyes.
This does not bode well at all...
"Well… I suppose I am not sure. From what Master Kallas explained, our bond is not formal and there has been no meshing of Magical energies. I suppose I think of our bond as a radio signal… and now we are both out of range," Hermione answered, angling her knees toward Ana unconsciously. "But that wouldn't explain why I would be experiencing any physical symptoms."
"An apt metaphor for the most part," Ana agreed, crossing her ankles quietly as she sighed. Given the young woman's present situation, she decided to allow the tangent.
"Unfortunately, it is more complicated than that and you must not confuse the lack of integrated magic with a complete lack of integrated energy at all."
Wetting her lips demurely, Ana's eyes narrowed as she refocused.
"To use your metaphor… you must also consider that a radio needs a power source in order to operate. Your body and your magic expend energy to maintain your bond with my aunt. When you are in close proximity with one another, the output is minimal - think of it as being in the same room with her and having a constant awareness of her presence. Your signal is strong, yes?"
Hermione nodded, her tired gaze a bit more focused with the prospect of interesting information.
"However for lack of a better image, imagine that she has now left the room and you are now in the process of looking around and actively searching for her presence. That is what your magic is doing right now… it is expending its own energy as it searches for her magical signature in order to reassert and reaffirm your bond, which in turn affects your body, your ability to focus, and your general level of energy."
Hermione appeared to be thinking hard, but she nodded again.
"And a formally bonded pair? How would a long-distance separation affect their magic?"
Ana ignored the niggle of suspicion at the witch's interest.
"Such knowledge remains in the hands of those who have experienced it firsthand," she lifted a brow and allowed her voice to drop into a lower register, "A formal bond is quite intimate, Apprentice. Our metaphor of sharing a room would no longer be sufficient to describe such an experience… instead, one would be privy to the inner landscape of another individual including their thoughts, emotions, dreams, desires… it is far more information than can be quantified in words, however that being said… try imagining yourself in such a position and then having all of that deeply intimate awareness stripped away."
Ana paused and looked deep into troubled amber eyes.
"It would be a loss, Hermione, and an extremely unpleasant one at that."
She let the witch digest her words for a moment as she leaned forward and set her two literary choices on the low table before them.
"Be thankful you are not in such a relationship," Ana concluded, settling back and gesturing toward the two volumes expectantly.
Hermione glanced at the books before tucking her chin and folding her hands in her lap. The witch's bottom lip was suddenly being worried between bright white teeth.
"Forgive my impertinence, but… have you ever been formally bonded, Ana?"
The question should not have taken her by surprise, and yet it somehow did.
Eyes flying wide, Ana flinched and suppressed an involuntary shudder.
"Certainly not," she snapped, sitting forward and pressing into the other woman's space as anxiety gave way to embarrassment and anger. "And while I forgive your impertinence on account of my agreement with your Master, do not mistake my honesty as an excuse for your ignorance. In any other situation, such a question would be taken as an insult - one worthy of initiating a duel. Have I made myself clear?"
Hermione's eyes were wide and fearful as she nodded, one hand pressing against the dark leather for reassurance as she clearly worked to avoid the instinctual impulse to shrink back.
"Yes, Ana. I-I'm sorry," caramel eyes were suddenly filling with tears, "I… didn't realize it… I mean, I knew it was a personal question, but… I just… I didn't know that it would come across as so invasive."
Annoyed with the witch and still off-balance from the question, Ana bit her the inside of her cheek hard before replying, busying herself with smoothing out the sapphire silk of her robes even as she felt the young woman next to her fairly vibrate with insecurity. She took a deep breath, knowing that the force of her emotions could be rather intimidating.
Irritation quickly gave way to guilt as Ana acknowledged the cultural gap that the young woman was still striving to overcome... which then re-blossomed into annoyance at her aunt for not having clarified something so elemental to the world of Masteries.
Gods above, Dia! What have you been teaching this witchling?
Sighing, Ana levitated the two books from the table and gently sent them toward Hermione as a peace offering. A tentative hand reached out to accept them and Ana pinned it beneath her own. She felt the young woman flinch.
"Apprentice. Be thankful for your curiosity as it opens many doors… but be cautious as you go. Our Kefalas fire seems to feed your natural ambition, however you are also young and newly versed to some of the older Wizarding ways. Do not depend upon our incendiary methods before you have built and earned your own path in this world… and do not think my aunt's reputation will always be there to protect you."
For a moment, Ana worried that her note of caution may have tilted the scales too far in the wrong direction, but the shadow quickly disappeared from the young woman's tired features and Hermione nodded solemnly.
"I understand."
The witchling took a deeper breath and then Ana watched carefully as something akin to her own well-practiced mask of professionalism slammed down into place. Hermione's lashes fluttered and she gestured with a long hand as if clearing the space between them.
"Let us continue, Ana. I shan't waste any more of your time."
Noting the careful return to etiquette, Ana nodded demurely as per requirement and flicked a wrist to open the first book to the chapter she desired. Even as she was pleased that Hermione seemed to have understood and accepted their return to more pertinent matters, Ana felt a stab of worry that went far deeper than the young woman's minor… well, not minor… gaffe.
Hermione was troubled.
And again, Ana found herself wondering just what the young woman had endured and just how soon the truth would work its way to the surface.