"Miss Granger." She slipped off the stool and stepped forward to shake Hermione's hand.

"General," said Hermione, returning the pressure.

Hestia gestured to a narrow corridor behind her. "Shall we?"

"Oh." Hermione frowned at the clock above the bar. It was only half-seven. "Aren't we waiting on any others?"

"No." Hestia clasped her hands in front of her. "Most of the Council is military. I'm afraid we all have a habit of being pathologically early."

Pressing her lips together, Hermione nodded. She was silent as Hestia led her down the dingy corridor, stopping at a door with a faded sign that read, Pub Staff Only. The moment she pushed it open, a twisting staircase appeared. Hestia had to duck her head as she descended, and Hermione followed.

They poured out into a large waiting room filled with stiff chairs and an empty reception desk. Hermione examined the layer of dust on the coffee table as Hestia led her briskly down another long corridor.

Noise rumbled from the end of it, where a large room with open doors awaited them. Hermione tried to steady her nerves as they strode towards it, her heels clicking next to the thud of Hestia's boots.

"I presume you've read the papers," said Hestia. "We'll be voting to formalize laws and procedures all week. The most important item today is the judges' vote."

Before Hermione could process it all, they were stepping inside the open doors. Fifteen to twenty people sat around a square-shaped table, speaking in low voices.

Hestia paused at the threshold. "Miss Hermione Granger, everyone."

Every gaze snapped to her. Hermione managed a curt nod, ignoring her pounding heartbeat. Some faces were familiar; others were new. Most were in military garb.

Hestia led her to an open seat, and Hermione locked eyes with General Pierre as she sat down. His mouth tightened before he resumed his conversation with General Jacobs. On Pierre's other side was Fleur Delacour, dressed in full regalia. Hermione blinked as Fleur nodded at her, then turned to her left, angling her shoulders away from General Pierre. The wizard next to her began speaking in Canadian French, his hands gesturing on the table.

Hermione skimmed the table and found a pair of stony-faced wizards in grey military robes. The Swiss. She followed a line of unfamiliar faces until her eyes caught on a wizard in black — Gawain Robards. She remembered him from the papers. He'd worked under Scrimgeour as the Head of the Auror office, but vanished when the Ministry fell.

To Robards' left were a witch and wizard who she presumed to be Italian, based on their olive-green robes. She was just trying to remember where she'd seen the wizard, a man with a thick beard and dark eyes, when he nodded at Hestia and abruptly stood.

He cleared his throat and introduced himself as Luca Bianchi in a heavy Italian accent. Hermione's brain clicked. He was a member of Antonio Bravieri's Ministry — one of the council members who had gone missing in August, right underneath Romano's nose.