[ She would be, frankly speaking, lying if she said the lengthy sermon (is it a sermon, or a quickfire of vitriol?) didn't affect her. She's had time to sit with it, by now.
And, although please understand that Hermione is never going to make the effort to find whoever was the author of that message and apologise for her arrogance, she's still making things right. For herself.
And thus, the self-imposed study time. She has become consumed by the things she knows - potions. Was her gift of making healing potions not the peak of her worth to the group in Akhuras? Without a considerate friend offering a book on local medicinal herbs, she never would've adapted the potions she can make from memory alone to local flora.
It's easier to think about local flora, and potions, than it is to think about how she's not back home and how she doesn't feel as bereft about it as she should. (Did she do this to herself? Think back on the adventures and growth of three years in Akhuras at the time of touching the beacon, and wistfully wished herself into a new strange world? Let's not examine that!)]
It seals wounds. [ Is the clarification, her quill pointed towards dittany. She looks up from the book and meets the gaze of one imposing, and uncomfortably beautiful woman. Also, a dog, somewhere behind her. Hermione blinks. ]
Uhm. At least, brewed into Essence of Dittany, it acts as a healing potion. I adapted a version of it to local flora before, but... [ She looks back down to the book, tilting her head in confusion. ] Maybe not elfroot? I don't want to get people, or myself, high.
no subject
And, although please understand that Hermione is never going to make the effort to find whoever was the author of that message and apologise for her arrogance, she's still making things right. For herself.
And thus, the self-imposed study time. She has become consumed by the things she knows - potions. Was her gift of making healing potions not the peak of her worth to the group in Akhuras? Without a considerate friend offering a book on local medicinal herbs, she never would've adapted the potions she can make from memory alone to local flora.
It's easier to think about local flora, and potions, than it is to think about how she's not back home and how she doesn't feel as bereft about it as she should. (Did she do this to herself? Think back on the adventures and growth of three years in Akhuras at the time of touching the beacon, and wistfully wished herself into a new strange world? Let's not examine that!)]
It seals wounds. [ Is the clarification, her quill pointed towards dittany. She looks up from the book and meets the gaze of one imposing, and uncomfortably beautiful woman. Also, a dog, somewhere behind her. Hermione blinks. ]
Uhm. At least, brewed into Essence of Dittany, it acts as a healing potion. I adapted a version of it to local flora before, but... [ She looks back down to the book, tilting her head in confusion. ] Maybe not elfroot? I don't want to get people, or myself, high.