Beta love to carbconnoisseur
"Oh good, you're here!" Steph grinned wickedly at her as she walked through the door, firing a stunning spell at her before she could blink. Hermione barely got her shield up in time. With a smirk, Steph continued to bombard her, leaving Hermione no doubt that Scrimgeour had not been exaggerating when he had called the witch deadly. It was all she could do to deflect her spells, barely able to send anything back.
Finally, in a move she prayed would work, Hermione cast the strongest shield she could before sending trails of fire around the witch's torso, binding her arms to her side.
Steph paused for a moment looking stunned, giving Hermione a second to breathe and calculate her next move. She had the witch's wand, but that meant nothing and she knew it. While she could, and most definitely should, just stun her and be done with it, Hermione was curious to see if the other woman could find her way out of her flames. Their weaknesses worried her and they hadn't yet been tested.
Steph smirked suddenly despite her attempts at removing them magically failing, automatically putting Hermione on her guard before she manoeuvred one arm out of the bind. Hermione immediately tightened her hold so she couldn't do the same with the other one, only making Steph's grin grow before she fired back wandlessly, maintaining her shield and putting out the flames.
"Interesting," she muttered, watching Hermione with calculating eyes.
Deciding to throw her off, Hermione cast a bombarda at the floor, disillusioning herself in the middle of the chaos before apparating to just behind the witch, stunning her quickly.
"Interesting tactics," Steph mused once she was revived. "You hesitated when I was bound. Why?"
"I need to know the flames' weaknesses.'' Hermione shrugged. "I haven't tested them all that much. I must admit I never considered someone just wriggling out of them."
Steph laughed. "Spoken like someone who has never been tied up in a situation they don't want to be in. You learn."
"Can you teach me?" Hermione asked bluntly.
Steph considered her. "Spoken like someone who has been tied up in a situation they didn't want to be in and couldn't get out," she revised softly.
"Yes," Hermione agreed bluntly, her mind picturing snatchers, a feeling of helplessness, Malfoy Manor and Bellatrix, and Dean Thomas. Gods, Dean, the boy who had stepped in front of Yaxley's wand to save Seamus only for Alecto Carrow to catch him from behind as Dean lay dying at his feet. She could still hear the gurgling as he drowned in his own blood.
"I'll teach you," Steph agreed, eyeing her with concern. "Forgive me for asking, but I need to know for… triggers. Were you… was it an assault?"
"An assault?" Hermione repeated stupidly before understanding dawned. "No. It wasn't. I was… ah, bound to others and taken somewhere for interrogation. The others though, they… they died eventually. I was there. I can still see it so vividly, and while I haven't thought about it specifically for a while…." she trailed off, not entirely sure how to put into words just how many triggers she had and how jarring it was to relive it for the first time in months.
Steph nodded. "I trained with the Hit Witches and Wizards originally," she informed Hermione conversationally, her face carefully expressionless. "I was… determined. I was going to prove them all wrong. Our world is so incredibly sexist on top of all the other prejudices. As a muggleborn woman? I was told I couldn't do it. Muggleborns are not as good at magic, you know? Or so they'd have us believe. It's bullshit, obviously. But a woman daring to join the DMLE, not wanting a desk job? Add in the sheer audacity of asking to join the most specialised branch of the DMLE there is, Merlin you'd have thought I'd confessed to summoning satan for tea and chats regularly." Hermione nodded, not sure what her point was. Steph smiled wryly, clearly reading the question on her face. "I was naive," she whispered. "So naive and idealistic. I am an amazing auror. It sounds like bragging, but I am. I was a horrific Hit witch. I wasn't prepared for any of it, not the reality anyway, the death I saw. Not just the people we were hunting, but my team. The mortality rate is high for a reason. It was dangerous, so much more dangerous than I ever anticipated. And now, I am dangerous because a bit like you, I've been powerless and I never want to be powerless again." She looked at Hermione sadly. "I can turn you into a weapon. Your instincts are good, far better than I anticipated if I'm honest. But you need to know, even knowing the things I'll teach you, there is no guarantee. I saw your face. You were right there, reliving something, and I'm not asking. It's none of my business. I just need you to know that you can't feel guilty for not knowing before. You can't spend your life constantly wondering what if. It'll drive you insane if you let it."
Hermione gaped at the witch, wondering what horrors she'd seen before Steph sauntered out of the room. "Same time next week?"
"Sure," Hermione croaked, feeling exposed and unsure as to what her next move should be.
"How are you darling?" Dorea smiled as she hugged her. "Are you looking forward to this?"
"I ah… don't really know what to expect," Hermione admitted.
"I'm not entirely sure, darling. Each spa is different, but most combine magic with physical techniques–massages, facials, baths." Dorea gave a happy little bounce. "Oh! I haven't been at a spa in ages. It's long overdue."
Hermione smiled, watching her usually composed godmother behave like a child as she followed her to the floo.
Randolph House was quite possibly the most opulent place Hermione had ever been. It was huge, reminding her of a National Trust house her mother had insisted they visit when she was younger. She was almost scared to move in case she broke something. Sticking close to Dorea, she walked carefully up towards the welcome witch.
"We're booked in under Potter," Dorea informed the witch as she ran her wand down a list.
"Of course, Madam Potter." The witch smiled. "You'll be with Sophia today. Miss Moody will be with Felicity. I understand you've yet to finalise your treatment choices?"
"That is correct," Dorea agreed.
"Then if you would follow me to room two and take a seat, Sophia and Felicity will be along momentarily to discuss your options. I do hope you have a relaxing day."
"Thank you." Dorea smiled as the witch rounded the desk, leading them into a dimly lit room with the squashiest sofas Hermione had ever sat on.
"Oh, I like this," Dorea murmured, sinking into the cushions.
"I sort of feel like I'm being eaten by a marshmallow," Hermione muttered, tilting her head. "I don't know why I don't hate it."
Dorea snorted just as the door opened and two women dressed in sage green robes entered.
"Madam Potter?" the redhead queried, eyeing Dorea, who nodded. "I'm Sophia," the witch held out her hand for Dorea to shake, " it's lovely to meet you."
"Then one assumes you're Miss Moody." The blonde beamed. "My name's Felicity. Are you ready to discuss treatment options?"
"Yes," Hermione agreed hesitantly as the woman sat down beside her. Her colleague drew Dorea into a similar conversation.
"I gather from your expression this is your first time?" The witch smiled gently, attempting to put her at ease.
"Yes," Hermione agreed.
"Well if you'd like some recommendations…"
"Merlin, yes!" she exclaimed.
Felicity laughed, holding up her wand. "If I may?" Hermione shot Dorea a look before nodding hesitantly, watching as she cast several charms that appeared to be a variation of a healer's diagnostic charm. "I would consider the healing springs first. It helps with any ailments you may have, small injuries. The water runs along a ley line. I'd follow it with one of our signature mud baths. They're wonderful for the skin. You wash it off in a separate healing pool that's used specifically for that purpose. After that, I'd recommend one of our full body massages with a potion that both soothes and nourishes. You are rather tense and your skin is slightly dry. I'd suggest following it with a facial using the same oil. We have a rather wonderful potion for curly hair if you're interested?"
"I don't imagine it'll hurt."
"Probably not," Felicity agreed. "To top it off I'd suggest a mani-pedi because why not?"
Hermione laughed, looking at Dorea. "It all sounds wonderful darling. Just agree."
"Ok," Hermione agreed, deciding to give in.
"Wonderful. If you'd follow me I'll take you to the changing room." Hermione stood, following the woman hesitantly, still not sure she was comfortable. "Now, there'll be a robe in that cubicle and a little box for your clothes. Press your wand against the lock and it'll be keyed to you for the day. The first healing spa is right through that door with the red glass. Stay as long as you want. There's no rush. Once you're done, you head through here and go through the door with the blue glass. The healing pool to wash off the mud is next to it. You can't miss it. Come back through here again once you're finished with all that and press your wand to that little sign. "Hermione followed her finger, seeing the sign next to the door with a little bell on it. "I'll come and get you for your message. Any questions?"
"I ah… just the robe?"
Felicity looked mildly amused. "Just the robe," she agreed.
"Ah."
"There's an obscuring charm around the edge of the pool." Hermione released a breath in relief. "Off you go then. I'll see you when you're ready."
"Thank you," Hermione murmured, darting into the cubicle.
Despite knowing and being able to see that the charm was in place, it still took sheer force of will to drop the robe on the bench.
"Darling, this is lovely. Do hurry up," Dorea called, a smirk of amusement on her face as if she could guess what was running through Hermione's head.
Silently, shooting Dorea a sour look, Hermione slid into the pool, swimming over to her aunt. She settled in one of the divots she assumed were seats and let out an involuntary sigh of relief as the niggly aches she'd learned to live with immediately started to ease.
"Ah, darling?" Dorea voiced hesitantly.
"Mmhmm," Hermione mumbled, her eyes still closed.
"You're glowing, darling."
Hermione's eyes snapped open. "What?" Dorea's eyes trailed down pointedly. Hermione followed them, taking in the blue light dancing over her skin. "Oh, fuck."
Dorea snorted loudly before she laughed so hard she was gasping. "I should reprimand you for your language darling, but sweet Salazar, Hermione!"
"Why am I glowing?" she asked, sounding panicked even to her own ears.
The supervising staff member glided over serenely. "You're here to relax," he chided. "You do not look relaxed."
"I'm glowing!" Hermione retorted.
"Yes," he agreed. "We're on a leyline. Those with more ills or with a greater sensitivity to magic tend to have… unusual reactions. And truly, blue is your colour."
Hermione's jaw dropped before she began to laugh. Dorea eyed her with concern, hearing the threatening hysteria.
"Darling, breathe," she commanded.
Forcibly pulling herself together, Hermione looked at her with wide eyes. "Why is nothing normal?"
"Normal is boring, darling," Dorea chided. "Now close your eyes and relax." She waited until Hermione had done as she was told, eyeing the brighter areas with worry she hadn't wanted her Goddaughter to see before she let out a breath and closed her own eyes.
Hermione opened her eyes cautiously once she was sure she was done. The glow had dissipated, thank all the gods. "I'm going to the mud bath," she murmured, not wanting to disturb her godmother. She looked like she was sleeping.
"Hmmm?" Dorea murmured, before rousing herself. "I'll join you, darling."
Sinking into the mud bath with a slight moue of distaste, Hermione was grateful to at least see she wasn't turning strange colours this time. "I don't think I like the… squelch," she muttered, making Dorea snort.
"But when you have skin that's as soft as acromantula silk, darling, it'll be worth it."
"It had better be," she muttered, trying not to move.
"Relax, darling," Dorea murmured disparagingly. Giving her a rueful smile, Hermione attempted to get over her dislike. She woke to find Dorea smirking at her. "At least you took my advice, darling."
Hermione blinked, attempting to reorient herself. "How long have I been asleep?"
"No idea." Dorea shrugged delicately. "There are no clocks here and my wand is too far away for me to reach."
Hermione groaned, reaching for her wand. "It's half-twelve!"
"Hmmm, three hours. We should probably go to the cleansing pool and then see about that massage. We'll have a late lunch."
Clambering ungracefully out of the pool, Hermione followed her into the last pool, feeling the same energy as the first, but without the glowing. "I much prefer this one," she murmured, settling into the side.
"Don't fall asleep on me again or it'll be dinner not lunch," Dorea chided, sounding sleepy.
"I'll try,'' Hermione agreed, already feeling the heaviness take over her body.
They woke at two. "I look like a prune." Hermione groaned.
"It is rather late, darling."
An amused Felicity appeared at their side. "I'm not hurrying you. I just came to check you were alright."
"We took rather longer than anticipated," Dorea murmured.
"Ben told me Miss Moody was glowing," the witch replied, waving her off. "With that strong a reaction, it's understandable that you'd take longer, and of course you were hardly going to leave her."
"Why?" Hermione squinted up at her.
"Why is it understandable?" At her nod, the witch continued. "Because given that some of the glowing was brighter in certain areas, I imagine there was some rather intensive healing happening. Did you have small scars? Or do you work somewhere where spell damage is common? Healers and Aurors often have stronger reactions to the healing pools. It often leaves the body tired though and needing time to recuperate, hence why we expect it to take longer.
"Oh," Hermione murmured. "Will it heal the scars?"
"It can," Felicity nodded. "Small ones usually. Bigger ones tend to remain, but the pools can improve their appearance."
Silently, Hermione lifted her arm, blinking to ensure she was seeing what she thought she was. "It looks almost healed," she breathed.
Felicity's eyebrows rose. "It was a cursed wound," Dorea murmured, in response to the unasked question.
"Ah. The pools have been known to help with those. It's not guaranteed, but it would seem you're one of the lucky ones."
"Jesus Christ," Hermione muttered, swiping at her eyes. It was almost silvery, more scar-like than raw wound, the letters fine, almost delicate looking.
"I'd hug you darling but I don't imagine you'd appreciate it given our current state of undress," Dorea murmured softly. Hermione paused for a beat, watching Felicity's graceful retreat before her aunt's words caught up with her and she laughed.
"Yes, thank you. If it's all the same I'd rather you didn't."
Dorea snorted. "If you insist, darling. Are you alright?"
"I don't know," she murmured. "I never thought I'd get rid of it."
"Things are changing," Dorea murmured softly. "Perhaps use it as a tangible reminder."
"Subtle Aunt Dorea," she laughed. "Uncle Charlus has been telling tales?"
"He was worried,'' Dorea contradicted. "We are not stupid, Hermione. We are expecting a lot. I think too much sometimes. There is no point in winning this if it costs you your sanity."
"I won't have any sanity if we don't end this," Hermione murmured. "It's already difficult. I'm living surrounded by ghosts."
Dorea bit back a wince. "I won't pretend to know how difficult it is, Hermione, but darling, you are doing everything you can."
"I know. Logically. Most of the time," she admitted. "But I… the periods of stillness–I don't know what to do with those. There were so few that last year and I… it makes me feel uneasy. Because before, periods of stillness meant something was coming. It always did, and then during our time in the tent, periods of stillness meant we'd hit another dead end. And for all my schedule looks busy, it still doesn't feel like I'm achieving much. I'm not… directly in battle. I'm not systematically working towards a defined end goal… or I am, but I'm not doing it in a format I recognise. I don't even know if that makes sense."
"Some," Dorea mused. "Not a whole lot, to be honest, but some."
Hermione snorted, finally dragging her eyes and her hand away from her arm. "Let's go and get massaged." She sighed. "Godric knows it's time we left this pool."
Dorea smiled slightly, a hint of sadness breaking through the mask. "After you then, darling."
Two and a half hours later, Hermione slid into the seat in front of her godmother. "Good massage, darling?" Dorea asked with an amused lilt.
"I think she stole my bones," Hermione murmured. "I don't think I've felt this… relaxed ever."
Dorea snorted at the sleepy look on her face as Felicity bustled through. "I want to see you back, Miss Moody," she scolded. "The state of your muscles! All those knots! Monthly at the very least, do you hear me?"
"Sure," Hermione almost slurred. "I'm too floppy to argue with you."
Felicity bit back a smile. "I'll book you in in two weeks' time then. Same time," she instructed before turning to Dorea. "Will you be joining her?"
"Oh, I think so. Add in another if you please. Izzah would adore this."
"Of course Madam Potter. You, Miss Moody, and…"
"Ah, Miss Shafiq, please."
"Wonderful. 9.30 on Sunday 29th."
"Oh, we're meant to be shopping that day," Hermione mused, blinking slowly.
Dorea covered her laugh with a cough. "We can do it afterwards darling." She turned to Felicity. "I assume next time won't be so… ah… potent?"
"No," the witch replied with a slight smile. "Unless something happens, she won't need the same level of healing from the pools, and now I've worked out a lot of the kinks, she shouldn't be so ah… high on magic from the massage. Breaking down the knots helps the flow. Her system was so knotted that magic had to fight to move through her. Now it doesn't. Her levels will adjust as it settles."
"I see," Dorea murmured. "I never thought to be grateful I got regular massages until now. I'd never live down appearing in public or at home like that."
Felicity smiled. "She'll be fine by tomorrow, but if you need the floo, there's one just to the left of the reception.
"Thank you. I might take you up on that. I don't think she's in any fit state for lunch."
"Probably not," Felicity agreed. "She should drink plenty of water, though. It'll help."
Dorea hummed. "Thank you." She turned back to Hermione. "Now then darling, we will get you home."
"Oh… to Nuri," Hermione slurred. "I've missed her."
"Yes, yes. Let's do that." She guided Hermione towards the floo, almost holding her up. "I think it'll need to be a joint floo, darling. Do hold on tight."
"Oh," Hermione blinked sleepily up at her. "I don't think I've ever done this."
Ushering her into the fireplace, Dorea almost fell flat on her face at the other end.
"What in the name of Merlin is wrong with you?" Alastor barked, appearing in front of them.
"If you could help?" Dorea asked waspishly.
"Is she drunk?" he demanded as Hermione swayed.
"No," Dorea muttered, handing over her goddaughter with relief. Small she may be, but she was heavy as a dead weight.
"I glowed, Dad," Hermione informed him. "It was pretty even if it was slightly alarming."
"Did you now?"
"Yes, and look!" Hermione thrust her arm at him, almost toppling as he staggered at the unexpected movement.
"It's your arm lass," he murmured slowly, his eyes flying to Dorea's. "Are you sure she's not drunk?"
"No, not drunk," Dorea smiled as Hermione stared at her arm in confusion.
"Where did it go?" she asked plaintively.
"I think you'll find it's under your sleeve darling."
"It wasn't before," Hermione muttered petulantly.
"Well no, darling," Dorea murmured, barely keeping her laughter under control. "You weren't wearing sleeves before.
"Oh," Hermione mumbled. "I wasn't." She turned to look at a concerned-looking Alastor. "It's under my sleeve," she informed him seriously.
He looked helplessly back at Dorea. "The pools have healing properties. It can cause some extreme reactions when you require significant healing. The massage however is the reason for this. Apparently she'll adjust, but for just now, she's high on her own magic."
"Sweet mother of Merlin," Alastor muttered. "What am I meant to do with her!"
"Give her plenty of water and let her sleep it off. She'll be fine in the morning," Dorea dismissed.
"Right," he muttered, adjusting his hold on Hermione. "I think it's the sofa for you, my lass. Yon wee dragon of yours will be pleased to see you."
"Oh! Oh, I missed her! I want to show her my nails."' She wiggled her fingers. "They match her scales."
"Of course they do," he muttered. "Can you walk?"
Hermione stared down at her feet uncomprehendingly. "Oh… I thought I'd lost those. I can't feel them. Or my nose. Why can't I feel my nose? Do you think this is how Tom felt? He was noseless. Maybe he'll give me tips."
Dorea's eyes closed as she bit her lip, desperately wanting to laugh. "Aye, I'm sure he will. But maybe not tonight," Alastor muttered dryly.
"Oh. Is he busy, do you think?"
"Probably lass."
"That's sad," Hermione sighed. "He's the only other noseless person I know."
"I think it might be getting stronger," Dorea gasped, her shoulders shaking silently.
"You think?" Alastor muttered, casting a featherweight charm on Hermione before lifting her up into his arms.
"Oh! Oh, I'm flying!" Hermione exclaimed, before her voice turned small. "I don't like flying. Tom can do that smokey-flying thing. Do you think he'd teach me that too? I might like that. Noseless people should stick together, don't you think?"
"It'll only be for a moment," Alastor soothed, ignoring the second part of her rambling. "Although, bed I think rather than the sofa if it's going to keep getting worse."
Hermione blinked. "My head feels heavy," she muttered. "Do you think my neck will snap? Just… crack… poor weak little neck."
"No!" Alastor exclaimed. "For Merlin's sake put it on my shoulder."
"Oh… Oh, that's better." Hermione sighed happily. "It doesn't feel like it's going to fall off now."
"Good to know," he muttered as he carried her up the stairs.
"Can we stop flying now?" she whined seconds later. "I really don't like it."
"Almost there," he returned, depositing her on the bed once Dorea had pulled the covers back.
"So soft," Hermione whispered, snuggling into the mattress, her eyes automatically closing.
As she let out a snore, Alastor began to laugh. "Sweet Mother of Merlin. That was…"
"Amusing?" Dorea replied, flicking her wand to swap Hermione's clothes for pyjamas. "I'm almost tempted to drag you there. I can only imagine how long you'd be stuck in the pools."
"No, thank you," he muttered.
"Well see. Lolly."
"Madam Potter bes wanting Lolly?" the elf inquired, appearing in front of Dorea.
"Yes. Can you bring a jug of water and Nuri? Hermione will need it."
The elf blinked. "The young Mistress bes being in healing sleep," she murmured. "Lolly will gets her animals."
She returned with a jug, Crookshanks, and Nuri, both of who immediately curled into Hermione's stomach.
"Will you keep an eye on her, Lolly?" Alastor asked gently. "She was… not herself."
"Lolly will," the elf agreed, settling down in the seat near Hermione's bed.
"You don't need to stay all night, Lolly," Alasor protested.
The elf rolled her eyes. "Lolly will sleep here. Now, shoo. The young Mistress needs to sleep."
Hermione groaned as she woke. Her head was pounding and her mouth was dry. She very much felt like she had after Sirius had thought it was funny to introduce her and Harry to firewhiskey during the Christmas holidays in fifth year. Struggling into a seated position, she almost jumped out of her skin when her eyes met Lolly's amused ones.
"Little Mistress bes feeling better?"
"No," she groaned. "I feel awful."
Lolly held out a glass of water pointedly, eyeing her with amusement. "Little Miss will drink that jug, yes she will, and then Lolly will get her a potion."
"If you take this pain away I'll love you forever Lolly," Hermione groaned, draining the glass only for Lolly to top it up immediately. It took two jugfuls for the elf to be satisfied, leaving Hermione with the uncomfortable feeling of being waterlogged. "I feel sloshy," she muttered, startling at the amused snort from the door.
"How are you feeling lass?" Alastor queried.
Hermione scrunched up her nose "Lolly made me drink two jugs of water… I feel…"
"Sloshy?" he finished with amusement.
Her eyes narrowed. "It's not pleasant."
"No, I imagine not," he agreed, still looking amused. "I gather you want one of these?"
He dangled the pain potion from his fingers. "Oh gods yes. My head is pounding!" Taking it from him, she downed it quickly, feeling herself relax as it immediately began to take effect. "Gods, I love magic," she muttered before something seemed to occur to her. "How did I get home yesterday? I don't remember…."
Alastor couldn't contain his bark of laughter. "Your Aunt had to carry you to the floo."
"What?" Hermione shouted, her brows furrowing in confusion. "I wasn't drinking…"
"No, you were so bloody knotted that you were high on your own magic. You wanted to nip off to become best friends with Voldemort," Alastor explained with a chuckle.
"What?"
"Voldemort. You couldn't feel your nose and felt he was the best person to talk to."
Hermione's jaw dropped before she groaned. "Shit."
Alastor snorted. "Indeed. It was rather funny. Now though, you need to get up and get moving. You are due at Hogwarts and you missed both lunch and dinner yesterday so I expect you at the table for breakfast in the next ten minutes."
Hermione groaned. "I'm full of water. I'm not hungry!"
"You're eating something, Hermione," he growled. "You said you were duelling the Evans girl this morning."
"Ugh! Fine, but if I vomit, I'm blaming you."
"Hermione!" Lily grinned, almost bouncing in her excitement. "How are you?"
"I spent yesterday at a spa and now that the headache is gone I feel better than I have in years," she admitted.
"Oh?" Lily looked at her pointedly, clearly waiting for more of an explanation.
"Apparently magical spas have healing properties. It was… well. It was an experience."
Lily looked at her clearly intrigued. "I didn't know there were magical spas."
"Me either," Hermione replied truthfully, settling into a seat. "There's one off Diagon Alley though, with pools linked to ley lines. Magical massages use muggle techniques combined with magic. Apparently knotted muscles can block the flow of magic around the body, so releasing them can have some ah… interesting effects."
"In what way?"
"My father thought I was drunk," she replied bluntly. "I don't remember getting home."
"Oh my," Lily hid her smile behind her hand.
"I feel ten times better though. Apparently, the first experience is the worst. It should settle after that."
Lily hummed, looking thoughtful. "Maybe I should go."
"You should! From what little of the chat I remember, they recommended everyone go at least semi-regularly. She said that it was all dependent on how much magic you were exposed to."
"In what way?"
"Well," Hermione began slowly, trying to remember how Felicity had phrased it. "Aurors and healers would need to go more regularly than someone who worked in Flourish and Blotts."
"Oh, I see," Lily murmured. "Want to come with me at Easter? It sounds fascinating! And I might need some relaxation before N.E.W.T.S."
Hermione laughed. "Me too. I'll book it next time I'm there. I'm back in a fortnight apparently."
"That soon?"
"I was… tense," Hermione murmured. "So I have to go fortnightly for the next two months and then I should hopefully move to monthly. My muscles need to be retrained not to reknot apparently."
"I didn't think that's how it worked," Lily began looking sceptical.
"Me either," Hermione shrugged. "But the witch was adamant, and I feel like a whole new human, so I'm not inclined to argue with her."
"Fair point," Lily nodded. "No arguing with the witch that makes you feel fabulous."
Hermione snorted but nodded her agreement. "Right. Where did you want to start?"
"Oh. Can we practise wandless magic?" Lily asked hesitantly.
"Yes. Let's go to the room though. I'll set up the dummies."
"Right," Hermione turned to face her once they were there. "What wandless magic can you do?"
"Very little," Lily admitted. "Expelliarmus and accio with limited range."
Hermione hummed, blowing out a breath. "Do they teach it here?"
"No. Professor Flitwick will help if you ask, but the focus is nonverbal over wandless."
"Alright, and when you're practising what are you doing?"
Lily frowned. "In what way?"
"Well… how do you make the spell happen?"
"I ah…" Lily paused. "I don't think I understand the question."
"Ok," Hermione murmured, requesting chairs from the room. Lily jumped when they appeared next to her.
"What the…"
"Sit," Hermione commanded. "Let's try how I was taught. Close your eyes. Relax." Lily snorted, sitting down. "It sounds stupid but trust me. You need to let your mind go still. Once you manage that, you want to look for your magical core. It's… hard to explain. Mine was a blue light. The person who taught me said theirs was red. One of my friends said he wasn't a light but a feeling, almost like electricity, so I gather it's different for everyone. All of us agreed you know when you find it."
"What's the point?"
"In the beginning, I had to consciously visualise the light travelling through me to my fingers to get the spells to work. The friend who described it as a feeling agreed. He said he could literally feel the magic going through him like heat."
"Oh," Lily murmured, wriggling to get comfortable. "How long did it take you to visualise it?"
"Over a month," Hermione admitted. "It… once I had it things moved quickly. And because I practised nightly, it helped with basic occlumency too."
"Occlumency?" Lily frowned.
"Oh. It's ah… it helps organise throughs, shield them. It's mind magic. It can keep secrets, prevent a legilimens reading your mind, and help keep you sane during torture."
Lily blanched. "Why aren't we taught it then?"
"It's difficult," Hermione began slowly. "Most purebloods are taught from infancy, and I can only speculate why the headmaster doesn't feel it important for everyone else."
"Will you teach me?" Lily demanded. "I… god, anything that helps is surely worth learning."
"Of course it is. Voldemort is a skilled legilimens, as are a number of purebloods."
"A legilimens is someone who can read your mind?"
"In the crudest of senses, yes," Hermione replied thoughtfully. "It's… they can skim surface thoughts and you'd never know they were there, they can hunt down memories you've long forgotten, and they can manipulate memories, change them to their own creation. It's… a truly terrifying skill. Of course not all legilimens are evil. Some healers are legilimens. It can be used to help people trapped in their own minds, it can help victims by softening the edges of painful memories, and it can be used to extract information from criminals not willing to talk."
"Sweet Circe and her kittens," Lily muttered, making Hermione laugh.
"That's a new one."
"I got fed up of hearing about Merlin's testicles," Lily replied with exaggerated primness.
"Ah," Hermione grinned.
"How does me visualising my magic help with occlumency?"
"Occlumency is based in mediation in the beginning, which is essentially what you're doing."
"And after the beginning?"
"Well after the beginning you have to decide how you want your mind to look. I'm still at that stage. My occlumency is rudimentary at best. I need to concentrate to manage anything and even then it's weak. I am, however, about to be made to learn. This morning, actually." She shuddered. "I'm not looking forward to it."
"Why?"
"Honestly? It hurts. Having someone pushing your mind to its limits isn't pleasant. I know it'll be worth it, but that doesn't mean I'm going to enjoy the process. Just getting to the level I'm at was difficult."
"Jesus," Lily muttered. "Why didn't you learn before?"
"Because there wasn't time." Hermione shrugged. "I did the best I could with the limited time I had. Occlumency is all well and good, but I needed to learn how to fight more."
"Why?" Lily demanded. "You make it sound like you were fighting a lot but there isn't another war I'm aware of."
Hermione froze cursing her slip. "At the end of the year, I'll tell you. I can't just now. Practice mediation and start building your defences. Maybe after today I'll have some actual tips."
Lily hummed. "Alright," she agreed with clear reluctance. "Would talking to a pureblood help?"
"Probably," she smiled impishly. "James has at least the basics down."
Lily flushed. "Hes… we're…." arching an eyebrow, Hermione waited. "He's less of an arse this year!" she blurted.
"And you find that you rather like him."
"Ugh. Yes. But don't tell him. He'll be utterly insufferable."
"Your secret is safe with me, but… you could humour him you know."
"Why would I want to do that?" Lily demanded.
"Because you like him and Merlin knows he's half in love with you!"
Lily hummed. "And if he turns back into an arse?"
"It's not marriage Lily! It's a trip to Hogsmeade or a walk in the grounds…."
"I'll think about it," she muttered, missing Hermione's satisfied smile.
"Right. Close your eyes and find your core."
Lily rolled her eyes but did as she was told.
"Ah, Hermione!" Perenelle smiled at her as she entered her Aunts office. "Miss Carrow isn't here yet. How are you?"
"Alright," Hermione hedged.
"Your session went well this morning?"
"Oh. It was… we were working on wandless magic. It's slightly frustrating for her, but she's determined so she'll get there."
"This is Miss Evans." Hermione hummed her agreement. "Muggleborn, isn't she?"
Stiffening, Hermione tried not to take offence at the question. I was valid, even if her own associations with it were poor. "Yes," she agreed, trying to keep her voice neutral.
Perenelle's smile was understanding. "I mean no offence, Hermione," she replied gently. "I inquired because we are always on the lookout for promising new members. Pureblood girls favour our coven. It is, after all, the best. However, we have half-bloods, as I know you're aware, but our ties to muggleborns are… less sure. Albus doesn't teach this, therefore they grow up not knowing about it. It makes the links harder to forge."
Hermione deflated. "I'm sorry. It's… nothing good ever follows that question in my experience."
Perenelle inclined her head. "I can only imagine. However, perhaps discuss rituals with Miss Evans. We can look into whether she would be a good fit later."
"What are the criteria?"
"We work as one," Perenelle replied firmly. "Therefore from the moment we step into that space, all prejudice must be banished. I have had to expel more than one member over it."
"Oh?"
"I gather you are acquainted with Madam Lestrange?" At Hermione's shudder, she nodded. "Her aunt, Walburga Black, her mother, and mother-in-law didn't last long either. There were several more prejudiced of the old families, some prejudiced half-bloods."
Hermione frowned. "Prejudiced against muggles?"
"Some," Perenelle nodded. "Some hated their muggle side, others hated their pureblood side due to being judged for what the families considered their less than perfect bloodline."
"Ah," Hermione murmured. "I see."
Prejudice is not merely the domain of purebloods, as I'm sure you know," Perenelle continued pointedly. "They just happen to be the ones currently shouting the loudest."
"I know," Hermione sighed. "It's just… difficult given the personal connection and the fact that their shouting goes hand in hand with murder."
"Which is understandable," Perenelle agreed. "But Albus is as prejudiced as Abraxas Malfoy. Their methods are different but both are dangerous."
Hermione blew out a breath. "I know."
"Good. We cannot work with prejudice. We need to eradicate it and the best thing we can do is break down barriers where possible."
"And when it is not?"
"Are you asking if I sanction murder, Hermione?" Perenelle inquired, her tone deceptively light.
"Maybe. I… I don't mean as a first action but… Bellatrix. She's insane and she delights in the torture of those she sees as beneath her. There is no… reasoning with her."
Perenelle hummed. "Could you do it?"
"Honestly? Probably," Hermione murmured, not looking the woman in the eye. "The lives she ruined…"
"Have you murdered someone, Hermione?" Unbidden, several memories flashed to the front of Hermione's mind. "I see," Perenelle mused. "There is a difference, don't you think, between self-defence, especially in the heat of battle, and premeditated murder?"
"Yes," Hermione agreed.
"And you think yourself capable of the latter?"
"Isn't that what we're doing?" Hermione shot back. "We're planning the death of Tom Riddle. Isn't that premeditation?"
"I suppose it is," Perenelle agreed. "Where is your line?"
"Pardon?"
"Your line. What criteria do you have for those you murder, and those you sentence to Azkaban?"
Hermione froze, pondering that. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's difficult. In the muggle world, there is hope of redemption for some, but here, dementors leave people as shells of themselves. There's no redemption. No chance to correct behaviours."
"Now you sound like Albus," Perenelle chided.
Hermione scowled. "No. I don't believe everyone deserves a second chance and I don't believe everyone is capable of correcting behaviour. But some?"
"And how do you decide?"
Hermione blew out a breath. "The severity of the crime, remorse, circumstances? Regulus Black forced into the Mark by his family after seeing his brother almost murdered for refusing would give room for some manoeuvring if, and only if, he was willing to engage in education."
"Such as?"
"Introducing him to the muggle world, getting to know muggleborns. Something that breaks down the things he's been taught and exposes them as a lie."
Perenelle grinned. "Well reasoned."
Hermione sighed at her. "That was a test?"
"I need to know where your thoughts go, what your moral compass looks like, where your blind spots are. Your arguments are interesting. What you don't say even more so. I do not doubt that you could put Bellatrix down and feel like you were doing the world a favour. Interestingly, despite their actions, you do not have the same strength of feeling towards the Malfoys or Antonin Dolohov. Greyback, you put in the same category as Madam Lestrange. It tells me that you are not determined that murder is the only option, but rather you see it as a last resort for those you consider beyond help."
Hermione stilled, not at all sure she liked the woman reading her thoughts or that she was comfortable with her assessment. Perenelle smiled knowingly but did not comment further. Still, she was beyond grateful when Pandora was escorted in.
"Ah, you must be Miss Carrow?"
"Madam Flamel.'' Pandora smiled, looking more subdued than Hermione thought possible.
"Well, sit down dear." Perenelle gestured to a chair by Hermione. Pandora sat gingerly, remaining utterly silent. "Hermione tells me you're a seer?"
"Ah, yes," Pandora agreed.
"And your Coven, dear?"
"I don't have an official one. I participate in rituals with some of the smaller sects, but not often. I… don't always do well with others."
"Oh?" Perenelle raised an eyebrow.
"I am… considered strange. I have few friends," Hermione frowned, all of a sudden seeing Luna sitting in her mother's place. "I…"
"Appeared to get on immediately with Hermione," Perenelle observed.
Pandora froze. "An unusual occurrence," she admitted. "I put it down to my daughter."
Perenelle hummed. "There is a fifth element. Did you know that?"
Pandora nodded slowly. "Ether or space. It manifests not as a specific talent but as a…"
"Binder for all the other elements. It is the space in between, the thing that connects them," Perenelle interjected pointedly. "Defined by their unusual wisdom and their ability to See."
Hermione sat still and silent, watching the byplay with interest. "Perhaps," Pandora mused.
"Not perhaps," Perenelle scolded. "Do not discount your own gifts, Miss Carrow! Hermione?" Hermione startled at being addressed.
"Yes?"
"Your other element, water wasn't it?"
"Yes," she agreed. "And potentially air."
Perenelles eyebrows rose. "Oh?"
"We agreed to try working together."
Perenelle looked momentarily flummoxed before gathering herself. "So, Ether, Air, Water, and Fire. You'll need your earth. There hasn't been a complete sect in decades."
Hermione looked at Pandora who was watching the other witch with wide eyes as Perenelle continued speaking. "You will gather the ones you have just now and practise harder. I wish to see it. Saul should too."
"I ah... That might be difficult given that Severus is still at school."
She waved a hand lazily. "Hogsmeade."
"Very well." Hermione blew out a breath. "When?"
"After your induction. Perhaps you'll find your earth amongst one of mine. Miss Carrow, you'll join us?"
"Oh I…" She snapped her mouth shut at Perenelle's glare, her refusal dying on her tongue. "Of course, Madam Flamel," she murmured.
"Good." The other witch nodded. "Now, dear. Hermione mentioned to you informing her that her returning was fate?"
Pandora froze, her expression turning thoughtful. "Without her experiences, we would lose," she murmured. "I See something guiding her. The consequences were severe but the reward will be worth it should we succeed."
"Is there a chance we won't?" Perenelle asked sharply.
"There are too many possibilities to narrow it down," Pandora murmured. "Too many variables, too few certainties. There is always a chance."
"I see," Perenelle murmured. "Is there anything I need to know?"
Pandora's eyes glazed. "We are the key," she rasped. "Without us, you will lose. But the leader of the light grows darker. He fails to recognise the knowledge he lacks. If he is allowed, he will lead innocents to their death. The red dragon falls first. If this happens fire will ravage the battlefields until the snake extinguishes it. If that happens all will be lost."
Neither Hermione nor Perenelle moved as Pandra shook her head, seeming to come back to herself. "Oh dear," she mused. "A prophecy vision?"
"I think so," Perenelle whispered.
"Might I ask what I said?" Perenelle recited it softly. "The red dragon," Pandora mused before a flash of pain travelled over her face. "Caradoc then."
"The Welsh flag," Hermione murmured, finally understanding.
Pandora hummed. "You're the fire," she stated.
Hermione blew out a breath. "I think we need Saul… and probably Uncle Charlus and Dad."
"Why?" Perenelle asked curiously.
"They're part of Dumbledore's order and so is Caradoc."
"And he controls the missions," Perenelle mused. "I see. Well then. Wednesday night? Might I also suggest your Aunt?"
"Yes," Hermione agreed. "Although can she leave?"
"Of course. We'll say it's family business. Now, Miss Carrow, I'm sure Hermione will help you get to her grandmother's for our discussion. If you agree, I'll induct you the following Wednesday with Hermione. There are… others who can help you hone your gift."
"Thank you," Pandora whispered.
"Wonderful! Now I assume you have no wish to see me delve into Hemrione's head. Minerva left the floo open for you."
Taking it for the dismissal it was, Pandora stood still looking pale and unsure. On impulse, Hermione stood and hugged her. "Tea tomorrow?"
Pandora's eyes brightened. "I'd like that," she agreed, squeezing her back.