**Hermione's POV**
Hermione was buried under a mountain of notes, parchments and books laying around her in a pile only she could organize.
Parchment covered every available surface in her cabin, the desk, the floor, even spread across her bunk. The map of Astapor, sketches of fortifications, lists of supplies, calculations of population and resources.
She remembered being interrupted by Ser Jorah while reading. (1 Hour flashback)
She was just getting to a *cough* decent place to pause reading her new book, to check on the potions of course, when a knock was heard on her cabin door.
The evening light filtered through the porthole, casting long shadows across the dimly lit candlelight of the room, the fireplace on board the ship being a vastly strange addition, giving off a soft glow of the dying timbers.
She got up from her comfy pillow bed and shuffled her way to open the door.
In hindsight, opening the door wearing only her pajamas and her fluffy cat slippers was probably not proper, but she was irritated at the interruption.
"Apologies for interrupting you at this hour, milady, but I wished to introduce you to Ser Barristan and inform you of the outcome of the negotiations."
Ser Jorah said this while indicating the older man she'd seen earlier that day, the same old man that almost made her miss getting that last warlock, if she hadn't anticipated their escape, she might have had to chase the rodent thru the streets.
The man simply nodded his head while looking down, his face red from obvious embarrassment at her current wardrobe on display.
Hermione realized she had not been wearing anything under her old Wicked Sisters camisole shirt, and it was a brisk evening.
Red faced she quickly put on a sweater from Molly Weasley from the last Christmas she'd spent with the family Molly being still a good Motherly friend, The worn wool was soft and familiar, even if the memories attached to it stung.
"Come in. I'll get some tea ready," she said while allowing them to enter her enlarged cabin with the tent set in the center nearest the fireplace.
The magical expansion still sometimes startled visitors, stepping into a space that shouldn't exist within the ship's hull.
The conversation that took place informed Hermione of who the old man was. She smiled at their fortune rethinking the usefulness of the old man. The knight might be a treasure trove of information, and if he is even half as good as described he would be a very welcome addition in protecting Dany.
Then she was given a rundown of the events that took place during the meeting, apparently another new addition was added thanks to Dany, A pretty young girl named Missandei who was an interpreter, another she would have to question later.
Apparently, the topic of selling the *fallen star* had come up, which made Hermione's eyebrow twitch, in irritation.
Ser Jorah must have seen the look on Hermione's face because he was very quick to tell her that Dany had, of course, rejected the offer. He also informed her that she even told them that she would not be revealing the Star to anyone unless necessary.
Ser Barristan just looked confused as to why Ser Jorah looked so terrified when Hermione's eyes started to narrow but he did feel as though there was an invisible knife to his throat for a second.
Ser Barristan was hardly even paying attention to the conversation until that moment. His eyes were everywhere, looking around in shock and awe as the tea glided its way toward them on its own, the pot pouring itself into three cups with practiced precision.
This caused the man to flinch and almost reach for a sword that wasn't there.
Apparently, no one had told the older man that she was, in fact, the star that had fallen and that she was in fact very magical as she gave a small demonstration with some wandless wordless magic reshaping my teacup into a cute little mouse and had it start dancing in my hands.
When he learned of this fact and then saw the small demonstration...well, it was a good thing they had taken seats at that point because she was sure the man was about to pass out.
The color drained from his weathered face, his mouth opening and closing without sound looking between Ser Jorah and Hermione.
He seemed to be an extremely devout man and believed her to be sent by the Seven or some such, she didn't pay much attention to what he was mumbling to himself as she had better things to do.
Hermione just gave him a calming draft and sent him to bed, and soon after Ser Jorah left as well. She would learn more tomorrow, but tonight it seemed she had a lot to do.
Dany was making her job harder for her, she wasn't certain if the girl was doing it on purpose or not, but at least it was better than being bored trying to find information the hard way.
Hermione had already figured out that Dany had no intention of letting these slavers go.
She would take the army, sack the city, and keep the dragons. It was easy to figure out her plan, just getting to know her she found that this girl attached herself entirely to people and things, and would never give up what she considered her first child to these slavers.
Which, on paper seemed all well and good, but it created even more unknowns for the future and unknowns almost always came back to bite you on the Arse.
This was the main hub of a slave army factory, in a sense. How many different countries and organizations used these people to create armies and wealth for themselves?
How many new unknown enemies would this make them?
Who was their main supplier of fresh slaves? Who funded the training and equipment?
Because there was no infrastructure here for large-scale weapons and armor, there was no food production there were few craftsmen and fewer fishermen. There was nothing made here except the slave soldiers, that she was sure many used.
In fact, the city was built on only one premise: large-scale export and import of slave soldiers.
It was, in itself, just a breeding ground for the poor to make new Unsullied.
If Dany took the city and ended the masters, as Hermione believed she would, then the city itself became almost useless unless you used it as a staging area for large scale invasions due to the wide-open training spaces.
It was not set up in an offensive strategic placement, rather more like a prison.
Similar to Qarth, in certain respects. Desert in all directions except toward the other slave cities.
This way, if you ran, you either died by the Dothraki or the desert, or were recaptured and executed and used as an example as she had seen with the dying slaves caged up around the city.
The master's here controlled the ports with the Unsullied, after all, but seeing as Dany was latterly purchasing every single one and all the ones still in training roughly 10,000 souls give or take.
Which was why Hermione was now buried under so much parchment, notes and books making notes and sketches of the city.
She was learning new large-scale permanent transfiguration charms, Professor McGonagall had gifted her all sorts of books recently and one included what she needed for some reason the Professors had each gifted her and even taught her individually for which she was very grateful for at the moment.
If they took this city, as she believed Dany was going to do, she would need to change a few things around to make everything more secure as the city itself was never designed for a siege or defense whatso ever.
She also wanted to set up a meeting with Dany to go over the logistics when everything was finished, they would need to find food to feed everyone and setup some kind of authority in the city as well as defenses.
She was not one hundred percent certain this was the plan Dany was going to go with, but she would be ready if it was, as Mad Eye would say "Constant Vigilance, prepare for all things you can and you will hardly be surprised by the outcome." That had been the last thing he had said to her before he died getting Harry away from his Aunt and Uncles home. The memory causing her to feel a bit of nostalgia.
Just ten more minutes and the first batch of potions should be finished; she just needed to add the ten tentacle leaves in and stir counterclockwise nine times and one time clockwise.
The cauldron bubbled gently in the corner of the cabin, filling the air with a sweet, medicinal scent.
Hermione did take a break to finish up the potion, and it was a perfect bluish and pink speckled mixture.
According to notes made by Professor Snape *yes, she stole all of Snape's personal potions books as it would be a waste to just box it up* adding just a bit of lemon before you bottled it would ease the discomfort of the potion regrowing *the missing bits*.
But the patient would still have to use the restroom and pee a ton for the first hour.
Not to mention the rehabilitation she was going to have to go over with these men, a conversation she hoped to only do once.
She was not looking forward to explaining how their walking, running, even sitting might now be affected, seeing as these men had spent most of their lives as they were now.
Luckily, she believed after only a day or so to instruct a few would be enough for the rest to help the others.
It was too bad it would still take a few years to help all these men, as she didn't have enough grown ingredients at the moment.
As it was, Winky volunteered to see to the replanting for me as she was far better at keeping up with household work then I was. The only downside was she would be very busy and was going to have to spend most of her time helping with the plants, as some of them took especially special care in order to grow correctly, but Winky assured me it was no big deal. *I will find a way to make sure you are truly free one day Winky* Hermione promised herself.
The small indoor garden she'd set up in the tent was already at capacity, herbs and rare plants growing in neat, labeled rows only 1 or 2 new sprouts showing as of now.
Hermione might just have to rethink her policy on not getting involved too much if Dany was going to be making even more complications arise from not thinking things through without all the information.
While she was grateful and happy that Dany wanted to free these poor people, this was not exactly the best time to start, they had no resources to aid anyone let alone this entire city.
Hermione wanted more time to figure out just who stood the most to gain by having slavery around and move down the chain, thus cutting off the head and the main body first.
Afterwards, cleanup would be simple, easy even by comparison as with no funding Slavery would even naturally fade away but with an army behind Dany and the enemy having no resources victory would be simple... so much for that idea.
"Well, it seems we are doing this the hard way," Hermione said to herself, drawing up plans and contingencies already figuring that they would find zero allies on this side of the world seeing as Slavery seems to be one of their main trades.
She spread out a fresh piece of parchment and began sketching fortification improvements, supply chain reforms, agricultural development plans.
She was thankful Ser Barristan had joined. He should be a wealth of information about, at least, the Seven Kingdoms and the lords that lived there.
Plus, as a former Kings guard, she could ask about the possibly missing Targaryen that Ned Stark may have hidden, as she needed to clarify a few things, but she was sure she was correct about her assessment.
If nothing else, some clarification as to certain events and timelines that did not seem to add up to her.
Hermione just ate a light snack, some bread and cheese from the ship's stores and decided that nothing was going to be solved tonight.
Best to put her energy into something productive.
She started bottling the potions for each person, thankful she had a separate bag set up for the vials.
The bottles clinked softly as she worked, each one given an exact dosage as the instructions in Snapes notes suggested she added the last part and the potion shimmered as described as she quickly stoppered it.
Because tonight was going to be a long night, hundreds of doses needed to stored by hand, to make sure everything was perfect, one down thousands left she thought to herself.
The ship creaked gently around her, the distant sounds of the port fading as the evening wore on.
Moonlight streamed through the porthole, illuminating her workspace as she worked late into the night, preparing for whatever tomorrow would bring.