[A/N: Thank you to Calamity Owl for beta-reading this chapter!]
Hermione had given up sitting in the floo room the next morning and was now pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. Even though she was expecting it, the green flare of the floo and the appearance of a face inside still made her jump.
"Permission to come through?" Professor Tonks asked.
"Of course," Hermione said, and went to place her hand on the fireplace brick to allow her through.
The older woman cleared her throat expectantly.
"Oh, right," Hermione said. "Sorry. I'm still not used to this yet. What's the password?"
"Winter."
Hermione nodded and placed her hand on the brick. Professor Tonks burst through the flame, landed as if she'd been born to floo, and primly dusted off her silver and forest green robes. Hermione could only hope that she had half the professor's regal bearing and calm dignity by the time she reached middle age, though she was too nervous to actually compliment her on it.
"Thank you," Professor Tonks said. "I'm sorry to be a stickler for the password, but Harry does have enemies. He's put a great deal of trust in you with the level of ward access he's given you, and I want to ensure you don't unwittingly put him in danger."
"I'm sorry, Professor." Hermione looked at the chesterfield, the ottoman, the floor, anything but at her guest. "I'm still not used to the capabilities of magic. I would never want to endanger him."
"I know," she said. "That's why I said something. I intend to push you, Miss Granger, because that's the only way you're going to succeed and because Harry and my cousin think you can handle it."
"I'll try." Hermione put as much steel into her voice as she could. "I can't thank you enough for being willing to help me."
"I have two reasons for doing so," Professor Tonks said. "First, my husband is a muggle-born, just like you. I would be…in a much worse place right now had I never met him. Second, you intrigue me. I met Harry when he was barely fourteen and he's always been an intensely private person, so I want to find out more about this woman he's invited to live with him on the spur of the moment."
Were her cheeks getting hot? Darn it, they were. "I don't know that I'm very interesting, Professor Tonks," Hermione said.
"Andi, please, Miss Granger."
"Alright. Please call me Hermione, then."
Andi nodded. "Very well. Tell me, Hermione, how did Harry find out you were a witch?"
Hermione knew she was blushing now as she explained their initial meeting. When she finished, Andi looked her up and down. "I understand now why Minerva is so interested in your progress," she said. "If we can keep you alive, you're going to go down in history."
"I just want my life back," Hermione said. "I'd rather study history than make it."
"That's as may be," Andi said, "but I'm afraid I'm right, regardless."
Hermione glared at her. "Then clear out a page in your history book for me, because I refuse to give up."
"Good. I think Minerva was right that you'd have been one of her Lions, too." Andi tied back her long, wiry brown hair. "Now, why don't you show me your lab?"
Hermione nodded and led her upstairs. Andi inspected everything carefully before nodding to her. "Excellent layout," she said. "Most students take years before they understand the importance of a good lab layout. Make sure you keep everything clean and organised going forward. That will reduce the chance of accidents."
"I understand," Hermione said.
"Good," Andi replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me for a moment…" she trailed off and began a string of incantations. When she finished, she turned back to Hermione. "There we go. Those Charms should protect the rest of the house from any unfortunate events in this room, but we'll still try to avoid that."
"Of course!" Hermione said. The older woman then quizzed her on different methods of ingredient preparation and the effects each method would have on the absorption of ingredients into a potion with a series of rapid-fire questions that, after fifteen minutes, left Hermione breathless and shaking.
"I take it you've been studying?" Andi asked, abruptly terminating her ingredient questions.
"Yes," Hermione said. "Did I remember everything decently? I only had time to read the textbook once and I'm not sure I really understood it all and this is all very new–"
"Hermione!" Andi cut her off. "You don't need to apologise. My first-year final exam comprises three sections: one section on ingredient preparation and lab management, one section on ingredient combination theory, and one section that involves brewing a potion. You would clearly be able to earn an 'O' on any question I would have asked you on the first section. That's an excellent start."
Hermione blushed. "You mean I didn't fail your questions?"
"Why do you think you would fail?" Andi asked. "You cannot have failed to notice you have an outstanding intellect."
"It's been several years since I feel like I really succeeded at anything." She looked down at the floor. "I guess I started wondering if everyone had just been wrong about me."
"Listen to me." Andi placed her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "Magic is more than just a science, where wand-wave A plus incantation B equals result C. Magic's results are driven by intent. You have to intend to succeed or you will fail. And I know you can."
"I've never thought about it like that," Hermione said.
"I'm not surprised," Andi said. "That kind of intent is easy to muster if you've grown up with magic, but a lot harder if you've never seen it before." The woman's eyes narrowed into a shrewd gaze. "Where's your wand?"
"Oh, I left it in my bedroom," Hermione said.
"Then your first assignment," Andi said in a tone that brooked no argument, "is to carry that with you all day, every day until the next time I see you. You are a witch, Hermione, and your wand is an extension of your body."
"I will," Hermione said, and hurried across the hall to her bedroom to grab her wand.
When she returned with her wand safely stashed in a worn, but still functional wrist holster Harry had given her, Andi gestured at the potions ingredients. "You've got the basics down, so I think it's safe to start you brewing. We're going to start with one that has a long list of ingredients and instructions, but that I think you'll do well with: the Wiggenweld Potion."
"Oh, yes, the anti-sleep potion that also restores a drinker's energy and stamina," Hermione said. She scanned the potions textbook's table of contents and flipped to that potion's section. "May I go ahead?"
Andi nodded, so Hermione began her work. She started by laying out the ingredients she'd need in the order that she would need them, read over the instructions one last time, and got to work.
The next half-hour felt like she was doing brain surgery. She followed each line of the instructions to the letter, only asking Andi occasional questions about when something qualified as "pink" vs. "red," or how fast one added lionfish spines vs. flobberworm mucus. Sweat dripped freely from her forehead by the time she finished, and only a timely reminder from Andi (as well as a handkerchief she transfigured into a headband) kept her from accidentally dripping some into the potion as she brewed it.
Once she'd set it aside and turned the heat off, she collapsed into her chair. Andi let her rest for a moment and get some water before asking, "How do you think you did?"
"I…think I did it correctly," Hermione said. "I mean, I'm not sure, and there are so many words I wasn't exactly clear about, but assuming–"
"You did it correctly," Andi said, gently cutting her off. "Some things, like how fast to heat a potion or how each ingredient is supposed to be added when not otherwise specified, you just have to learn by doing. And you second-guessed yourself a lot when dealing with otherwise clear instructions. Overall, though, this was a fantastic effort, and it shows your attention to detail is exceptional. I think you're going to be an excellent potioneer."
"Thank you!" Hermione said as heat rushed to her already-flushed cheeks.
"Now, for the final test." Andi motioned Hermione to follow her downstairs. Once they were in the sitting room, Andi sat on the chesterfield and pulled a mostly-empty vial out of a pocket in her robes. "This is enough Sleeping Draught to knock me out for a good hour. I'm going to take this, and I'd like you to wait until I'm fast asleep before pouring a vial of your potion down my throat."
"But…what if I made a mistake?" Hermione asked. "There won't be anyone here who–"
"I watched you carefully," Andi said. "The only mistake you made was in not trusting yourself." She drank the miniscule contents of the vial in one quick swallow. "Now, fetch me some potion. I don't wish to be late for my next class."
She lay her head down on the worn arm of the sofa, smoothed out her the velvet capelet built into her robes, and was asleep in seconds. Hermione took a deep breath and tried to undo the sudden knot in her stomach before heading back upstairs, but mostly failed.
Her hands shook so hard that she ended up spilling most of the ladle of potion she was trying to pour into a vial, but her cauldron held enough for three or four vials, so eventually she was able to fill one vial. Holding it carefully, almost reverently, she carried it back down the stairs.
Andi's soft snores greeted her when she arrived in the sitting room. Hermione gently opened the other woman's mouth and poured the vial into it. Andi coughed a little and woke up within ten seconds. "Whaaa…" she said sleepily, then rubbed her eyes and looked around.
"Oh! Right, I remember now," Andi said. "Nice work, Hermione. I knew you could do it. You're going to be a great witch."
Hermione nodded and tried to thank her, but she couldn't make any words come out.
"Is something wrong?" Andi asked.
"I'm…I really am a witch," Hermione whispered. "I thought…I was worried Harry was wrong and I was going to disappoint him and everyone else and I wouldn't be a witch, but I am. I'm a witch who just brewed her first magic potion."
Andi smiled. "Yes, dear. You are and you did."
Some indeterminate amount of time later, Hermione opened her eyes and found she was staring at the ceiling and the concerned face of Andi.
"Excellent!" Andi said. "That worked. You fainted and I realised it was a perfect opportunity to satisfy my own curiosity about whether Wiggenweld Potion also works to revive a person from a non-magical faint. It apparently does, which I'll make a note of. While I do worry about your low self-esteem generally, I'm glad this set of circumstances has allowed us to advance our knowledge of Potions."
"Oh…um…I'm glad to hear that." Hermione allowed Andi to help her up. "I'm sorry I fainted."
"Don't be, dear," Andi said. "I didn't realise how much today's lesson must have affected you. I'm going to head back to Hogwarts now, but why don't you take a bit of time off from studying after lunch and walk around the neighbourhood? I think you could use some fresh air. Oh, and I took the liberty of putting your remaining Wiggenweld Potion into a vial for you."
"I will," Hermione said. "Thank you. Thank you for everything."
"The pleasure is all mine," Andi replied. "For next week, I want you to start learning the basic properties of the different ingredients we'll be using. We'll brew some potions that both leverage those properties and demonstrate how they can have surprising results. In a month or two, you might even be able to help out around the house by brewing some common household potions."
"I'd love that," Hermione said. "I want to start pulling my weight around here."
"I don't think Harry minds, but I respect the sentiment. It might be a few months before you can brew my cousin hangover potions, though." The professor paused thoughtfully. "Harry and his friends were skilled troublemakers in school, but the one thing they never had was a potioneer to assist their efforts. I shudder to think what kind of mayhem those children could have gotten up to with some of the more complex potions like Polyjuice."
"I see what you mean," Hermione said. "I'll be cautious about what I brew and how I brew it."
Andi nodded. "I think this is going to be a fascinating year for both of us…assuming you survive, of course."
"Of course," Hermione said drily.
Hermione spent the remainder of that day getting a head start on next week's Potions assignment. The following day, she'd intended to try to wrap her head around Charms theory, but some unexpected owls gave her quite the distraction in the morning. She understood the basics of handling owl post thanks to Harry, but it was still a weird experience to have a foot-tall bird of prey flapping about your dining room (they all wanted to come in through the back patio off the basement/dining room for some reason) and demanding treats that you could have sworn were right there in the dining room but somehow ended up on one of the kitchen shelves.
Neville's owl showed up first with a question about where to deposit his old textbooks and apologising in advance for any incorrect notes he'd made in them or inappropriate scribbles Ron had made in them. Hermione sent a reply by return of owl indicating that the sitting room would be fine and assuring him she wouldn't judge them based on whatever silliness they'd gotten up to in school. Besides, with all of the horrific things she'd heard about from their time there she couldn't begrudge them any opportunity to act like normal schoolboys.
The next owl was a little snowy owl from Minerva McGonagall. She said Professor Tonks had extremely nice things to say about her and firmly implied that she (McGonagall) should teach Hermione, as well. McGonagall apologised that she would not be able to provide the same level of regular instruction, but did offer to come by on Saturday and provide a detailed introduction to the art of Transfiguration. She also told her to expect one more owl from one of her colleagues later that day. Hermione promptly wrote back appreciatively and accepted the Saturday session. From what she'd gathered from Harry, Remus, and Sirius, McGonagall was an instructor without compare and she'd be thankful for even an hour of the woman's time.
The final owl arrived just as Hermione climbed back up to the ground floor, at which point she facepalmed and climbed back down the steps. The excitable little long-eared owl burst into the room and flew around the kitchen for several minutes before Hermione was able to coax it to a stop with a liberal helping of owl treats. It bore a message from a man named Filius Flitwick, who said he was the Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts and Harry's former Charms instructor. He also apologised that he was so busy with his duties at the school, but offered to come by the following Saturday to give her a detailed introduction to Charms.
A frown flickered across Hermione's lips before she pushed it away. Sure, that would require reorganising her study schedule, but she could hardly decline more expert assistance. She owled (what a verb!) him back, thanked him for the offer, and agreed to the date. Afterward, she trudged back up the stairs, keeping her ears out for any more avian couriers. Nothing else disrupted her morning studying, but she did have to switch from Charms to Transfiguration now that she knew she'd have a guest instructor the next day. She hoped the Professor wouldn't be disappointed if she hadn't finished the whole textbook by then.
Lunchtime came and went without any fuss or even motion from Hermione, and it wasn't until sometime after two o'clock that she looked up to refill her ink bottle and realised that a stack of Neville's textbooks had appeared on the other end of the coffee table. Those poor house elves were amazing little creatures, and she vowed to herself that she was going to do everything she could to figure out why they seemed so enthusiastic about their enslavement.
The sound of the floo startled her out of her work and with no small shock she realised she was well over half-through Harry's old first-year Transfiguration textbook. "Oh…um…welcome home, Harry!" she said.
Harry took a moment to regain his balance and dust himself off. "Thank you," he said with a smile. "I'd thank you for waiting for me for dinner, but I have a feeling you didn't notice I was over an hour late, did you?"
"I'm trying to learn as much Transfiguration as I can before tomorrow," Hermione said, feeling a touch defensive. "Headmistress McGonagall offered to give me an introduction to the subject and I didn't want to disappoint her."
"That's great!" Harry said. "She's a fantastic instructor and you couldn't ask for a better introduction to the subject. Let's heat up those leftovers, now, though. I'm starving."
"Now that you mention it, I am, too." Hermione stood up and stowed her studying gear. When she looked up again, Harry was staring at her with a concerned expression on his face.
"Have you eaten anything since I left?" he asked.
"I got sucked into the reading," Hermione said. "How did you know?"
"Your hands are shaking again." Half a dozen long strides carried him from the floo room to the opposite side of the coffee table she'd commandeered for studying. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."
"I know," she said. "It's…this isn't like the research I'm used to, where I'm trying to answer specific questions or learn specific things. I feel like I'm trying to drink an ocean, but it's too delicious to stop for air. Every page answers one of my questions and gives me five more, and they're all so fascinating that I just keep reading."
Harry reached across the table and took her trembling hands. "The knowledge is still going to be here tomorrow, and so are you. I know we've given you a difficult task, but I know just as well you can do it."
Hermione felt like her knees were about to give out and she wasn't sure if it was from the hunger or the way Harry was making her feel just then.
"This is no way for you to live," Harry continued, blithely ignoring the effect his eyes were having on her insides. "First, come have dinner with me. Afterward, you and I are going out for ice cream, and from now on we're going to do at least one fun thing a week."
"I'd like that," Hermione said. Of course, with the way his smiling eyes were reflecting the flickering fire of the gaslights just then, he could probably have told her literally anything and received the same response from her.
Seriously, someone should have warned her about his eyes.
