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[ Hermione has somewhat recovered from the battle now, the weight of what had happened at Caer Scima still a solid one on her shoulders. Her hair has grown back a little, thanks to a bit of magic, and things are beginning to get fixed around her, but it doesn't feel the same. All the trust she had in people feels like it's wilted and faded away and she isn't entirely sure what direction to turn or what to do.
The first thing is, of course, to make sure that other places are safe, just like she promised Waver. It's far too easy to apparate over and go through to check all the places she can before she gets in contact with him to let him know it's safe and arrange a moment to talk. He doesn't know where her house is, not many people do, so instead she goes down the pathway they had met on last time, Padfoot walking along at her side.
She knows that Waver knows about her involvement with the sigils, she knows that he's close to Harry just like she knows that he'll know who exactly was behind the one that the High King had used. Her panic rushes through her and she breathes out, forcing herself to act calm as she settles to wait. Padfoot nuzzles at her hand and she breaths out, relaxing before she smiles softly. At least she has him to make sure that she isn't panicking herself into insanity. ]
[Waver had learned a little of the Barrel's fate through the words of others. Alice had been wise enough to use the building as a field hospital, and so it had been spared any sort of destruction. That was a blessing in and of itself, knowing that the place hadn't just survived but been put to the best possible use in light of the conflict.
It had also given him an idea, based on a conversation with Thrall. Handing the reins of the place over to him would enable a better information flow, the building would be in good hands, and the Barrel's mission could continue in its original home, even if the name was to be different. A matter of paperwork now, plain and simple.
But first, Hermione. He wanted to get her perspective on telling those who had evacuated the village to come back home, ultimately. The sigil matter was secondary, if only because Waver suspected that she was raking herself over coals for what had happened. It'd be hard not to.
So, when he approaches her on the path, it's with good cheer, his red coat buttoned up, the rest of him trying to hide in the scarf. It's bitterly cold, and he has no love for the weather right now.]
Hey.
It had also given him an idea, based on a conversation with Thrall. Handing the reins of the place over to him would enable a better information flow, the building would be in good hands, and the Barrel's mission could continue in its original home, even if the name was to be different. A matter of paperwork now, plain and simple.
But first, Hermione. He wanted to get her perspective on telling those who had evacuated the village to come back home, ultimately. The sigil matter was secondary, if only because Waver suspected that she was raking herself over coals for what had happened. It'd be hard not to.
So, when he approaches her on the path, it's with good cheer, his red coat buttoned up, the rest of him trying to hide in the scarf. It's bitterly cold, and he has no love for the weather right now.]
Hey.
[ Things weren't simple any more. Once, it had been easy to be here in the Drabworld; she had done what she had been told, she had earned a place here and she had thought she was really okay in trusting the monarchs, in trusting her friends. The blazing feeling of betrayal sits on her like an ache in her chest and she doesn't want to think about it, no more than she wants to think about the horrific pictures of Caer Scima that seem emblazened on the back of her eyelids.
Being in Nimh Gleanne is easier, at least, considering. It's as neutral as anywhere is going to get and she can bury herself in her house, in the ideas she has, in the company of the pets she has; Crookshanks and Padfoot are always there to lick at her hands or curl up on her chest if they think their mistress is being at all too solemn and sad and they refuse to deal with it. She's glad to see it; it's good to be forced out of her habit over over-thinking.
Her attention is on Waver, now, though, and she brightens, watching with an amused little smile at how wrapped up he is. She's got her scarf and her hat on, Padfoot still nuzzling at her side, but his wings flutter when he spots the newcomer and he darts over to inspect him quickly. ]
You look like you're in need of a bit of hot chocolate, Waver.
Being in Nimh Gleanne is easier, at least, considering. It's as neutral as anywhere is going to get and she can bury herself in her house, in the ideas she has, in the company of the pets she has; Crookshanks and Padfoot are always there to lick at her hands or curl up on her chest if they think their mistress is being at all too solemn and sad and they refuse to deal with it. She's glad to see it; it's good to be forced out of her habit over over-thinking.
Her attention is on Waver, now, though, and she brightens, watching with an amused little smile at how wrapped up he is. She's got her scarf and her hat on, Padfoot still nuzzling at her side, but his wings flutter when he spots the newcomer and he darts over to inspect him quickly. ]
You look like you're in need of a bit of hot chocolate, Waver.
[Waver grins, nearly into his scarf before he realizes that's a one way route into muffling his voice.]
I certainly wouldn't refuse the offer. This weather's unseaonable, from what I can tell, and I'm worried it'll mess with growing seasons even more than past events will.
[He's known about the Jabberwock's ability to cause famine for some time now, since Lancelot was kind enough to give him a book on the subject. In weeks and months to come, he'd have to start looking into how to undo that damage, but for now, well, property was the primary concern.
Padfoot causes Waver to crouch down, and hold a hand out to be inspected properly.]
By the by, who's your friend here?
I certainly wouldn't refuse the offer. This weather's unseaonable, from what I can tell, and I'm worried it'll mess with growing seasons even more than past events will.
[He's known about the Jabberwock's ability to cause famine for some time now, since Lancelot was kind enough to give him a book on the subject. In weeks and months to come, he'd have to start looking into how to undo that damage, but for now, well, property was the primary concern.
Padfoot causes Waver to crouch down, and hold a hand out to be inspected properly.]
By the by, who's your friend here?
[ Things have been changing and Hermione is getting worried; the start of things getting worse seems to have begun properly and she's scared that she might end up doing more harm than good, doing more damage than she might have done if she were doing anything else. She's a Sorceress of Caer Glaem, she's a witch and she is smart and powerful but even she has her limits and she thinks she might be about to meet them.
At least there's one thing she can focus on; the magic.
She's poured over Dorian's notes, learned the runes and the magic, she's spent time in Redgate and she's found out all the more thanks to Kaldur and the information he had given her. She's prepared to start things that, maybe, she should have done a long time ago but something tells her that it might not be a good idea to do it alone -- it's not a good idea to not have support, not with everything going on, and magic wise? The first person that comes to mind is Dorian Gray.
She asks a faerie to send him a message before she goes, the Tome she had been given as a boon sitting in front of her, nervous making her a little cautious. What she is asking is a lot, even for their tentative and rather wonderful friendship, and she's determined to be careful with it. ]
[ At least he's smiling; that's something she can cling to and she nods her head. She can trust Waver with the knowledge of her House - he can't get in without her, at least, given that everything is closed down and Floo is essentially the only way. ]
We can go to my house, if you'd like, and have a drink. It'd be better than standing around outside in the cold shivering our fingers off.
[ There's a lot to talk about and it's cold, the settled winds blustering her hair around her face before she shoves it up behind her hat. Thank goodness she'd brought so many clothes in her beaded bag, otherwise she'd be relying on the cloaks from Caer Glaem. She doesn't want to spend too long there if she can, not right now.
Padfoot beams, shoving his face into the offered hand with a happy noise, a contented growl. ]
That is Padfoot. A gift from a friend a while ago.
We can go to my house, if you'd like, and have a drink. It'd be better than standing around outside in the cold shivering our fingers off.
[ There's a lot to talk about and it's cold, the settled winds blustering her hair around her face before she shoves it up behind her hat. Thank goodness she'd brought so many clothes in her beaded bag, otherwise she'd be relying on the cloaks from Caer Glaem. She doesn't want to spend too long there if she can, not right now.
Padfoot beams, shoving his face into the offered hand with a happy noise, a contented growl. ]
That is Padfoot. A gift from a friend a while ago.
[Dorian arrives promptly. He would never be late for a missive from Hermione. Although things are quieter in these months, in the light of all that has come before, Dorian cannot fool himself into believing that the war will not become hot again, will not become worse. Violence is coming to them all.
All the more reason to stand by his friends.
When he steps into the workroom, his smile softens at the way she holds herself. It is clear he isn't the only one marred by dark thoughts of dark hours.] Miss Granger? [He matches his voice to his smile and approaches her.] I received your message. But tell me, how do you fare?
All the more reason to stand by his friends.
When he steps into the workroom, his smile softens at the way she holds herself. It is clear he isn't the only one marred by dark thoughts of dark hours.] Miss Granger? [He matches his voice to his smile and approaches her.] I received your message. But tell me, how do you fare?
Mr Gray! [ The formality lingers, even with the fact that she and Dorian are actually friends, now, beginning to be quite good ones, and she offers him a bright smile. She feels a connection to him, considering - they've studied together, shared notes, and she knows she has something to ask him that might be a bit of a burden to him, even now.
A hug may not be the best thing but she steps forward, almost embracing him before she stops herself and offers her hand instead.
At least they have their friends in these times and she adjusts, hoping they can ignore the pressure of war around their shoulders. ] I'm very good, thank you. Things are a bit quiet, aren't they? Please, sit down, I made us some tea if you'd like some.
A hug may not be the best thing but she steps forward, almost embracing him before she stops herself and offers her hand instead.
At least they have their friends in these times and she adjusts, hoping they can ignore the pressure of war around their shoulders. ] I'm very good, thank you. Things are a bit quiet, aren't they? Please, sit down, I made us some tea if you'd like some.
[When he takes her hand, he finishes the embrace she almost started. After these months, the gesture has become more familiar to him, and far less strange in coming from a woman. It is quite natural to complete it.]
[Pulling back, his smile takes lightness from her own happiness.] I admit, I'm more than a little grateful for the quiet. Tea would be wonderful.
[He is sure by now she knows how he likes his tea—with honey and lemon—and he sits across from her, content to wait for her purpose, if she has one, or merely socialize if she does not.]
[Pulling back, his smile takes lightness from her own happiness.] I admit, I'm more than a little grateful for the quiet. Tea would be wonderful.
[He is sure by now she knows how he likes his tea—with honey and lemon—and he sits across from her, content to wait for her purpose, if she has one, or merely socialize if she does not.]
[ She leans into his embrace easily enough, squeezing him gently and relaxing somewhat. Hermione has always taken comfort in the fact that she can be around her friends, embrace them, grab their hands or their arms and know they're nearby - it comforts her, and knowing that Dorian wouldn't mind makes her feel so much better.
She goes and sits opposite him, shifting a little as she pours his tea and passes the cup over, biting back her little smile. ]
Honestly? I have a bit of an ulterior motive, Mr Gray.
[ She puts her hands on the tome, pushing it forward a bit. ]
What do you know about the network - the lockets?
She goes and sits opposite him, shifting a little as she pours his tea and passes the cup over, biting back her little smile. ]
Honestly? I have a bit of an ulterior motive, Mr Gray.
[ She puts her hands on the tome, pushing it forward a bit. ]
What do you know about the network - the lockets?
[His eyes flicker down at the movement, and then back up to her. A candid confession of ulterior motives from Hermione does not inspire distrust. Rather, he is curious, and leans closer to her, interested in what she has to present to him.]
Very little, in truth. I know they are not functioning now. I know their basis is magic. I . . . suspect they are used in manners not overtly disclosed to us. [Spying. He means they're used for spying by the Monarchs. But he isn't going to say it in the heart of Caer Glaem.] What of them?
Very little, in truth. I know they are not functioning now. I know their basis is magic. I . . . suspect they are used in manners not overtly disclosed to us. [Spying. He means they're used for spying by the Monarchs. But he isn't going to say it in the heart of Caer Glaem.] What of them?
You're right - I mean, the monarchs must know who we talk to. We're not supposed to talk to the other courts, I don't think, not really, and I get the feeling things are going to get worse when it comes to that very soon. This?
[ She pushes the book a little closer. ]
This is a book I was given as a boon. It lets me make almost anything into a network device just like the lockets we were given - as long as it has a flat, metal surface, and we can use it off the networks too.
[ She pushes the book a little closer. ]
This is a book I was given as a boon. It lets me make almost anything into a network device just like the lockets we were given - as long as it has a flat, metal surface, and we can use it off the networks too.
[His eyes widen. It's impressive power. Very impressive power. He touches the book, careful. Anything with a flat metal surface—some mirrors, any sword and most shields, so much of what they have.]
[But he does have one paranoid concern, which he expresses in a creased brow as he looks up to her.] You say it was a boon. Can the monarchs trace the network through it, gain access to it, as it comes from a gift they gave themselves?
[But he does have one paranoid concern, which he expresses in a creased brow as he looks up to her.] You say it was a boon. Can the monarchs trace the network through it, gain access to it, as it comes from a gift they gave themselves?
That's one of the problems I've been having lately. At the moment anything I make is a little bit... Unsafe? I've been doing some reading, though, and I've found some spells that'll secure the line. No one should be able to peek in, but more couldn't hurt.
[ She shakes her head. ]
But that's not what I'm worried about. The lockets have been acting a bit funny lately and I don't know what that means about what the monarchs are seeing - doing.
[ She shakes her head. ]
But that's not what I'm worried about. The lockets have been acting a bit funny lately and I don't know what that means about what the monarchs are seeing - doing.
That's exactly what I'd like. I'm going to be a little busy with things at the White Citadel and I don't think I can do this alone. I thought maybe we could figure something out for the network, but also my potions? My friends have been telling me off for ages for not charging for them...
[ Her expression is careful, now, and she leans forward. ]
Only if you want to. I don't want this to be something that would be too much for you.
[ Her expression is careful, now, and she leans forward. ]
Only if you want to. I don't want this to be something that would be too much for you.
[Where she is careful, he is comfortable, easy. In truth, guardedness has never come naturally to him, and when he is happy for a thing, he goes forward on it without care. Thoughtless in his ease, he sets his hand over hers to reassure her.]
It would be my pleasure to help you, Miss Granger. I will do what you need of me.
It would be my pleasure to help you, Miss Granger. I will do what you need of me.
[ The relief washes over her quickly and she brightens, leaning closer. ]
Really? Are you sure? I know it's a lot to ask, but it would be a business and we would make some money from it. That or trade for things we might need, if anything comes up...
[ She breathes out. Keep it calm, Granger, don't get over your head. ]
You're - thank you, Doria-- Mr Gray.
Really? Are you sure? I know it's a lot to ask, but it would be a business and we would make some money from it. That or trade for things we might need, if anything comes up...
[ She breathes out. Keep it calm, Granger, don't get over your head. ]
You're - thank you, Doria-- Mr Gray.
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