Chapter One: A Different World
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, you can be sure of two things:
One: Hermione and Ron NEVER would have happened. Two: Harry and Ginny NEVER would have happened.
Warning: This is femslash (two women together and I do mean in that special way) and more specifically, it will eventually become Hermione Granger/Minerva McGonagall.
Edit: 23/10/2011
As any who survived a war would tell you, war has a way of tearing families apart.
Sometimes it was only distance that separated families, like in the case of Bill and Charlie Weasley. Other times, the separation was forced by a much more permanent hand, like in the case of Percy Weasley.
War destroyed.
Governments crumbled. Fear ran rampant. Safety became a thing of the past.
That's not to say there wasn't resistance.
The rebels weren't Superman or Wonder Woman. They were every day people. They were students who had seen death. They were mothers and fathers, daughters and sons, sisters and brothers.
This is the story of a small group who dared to stand against Voldemort.
~ooOoo~
It was on the 2nd of July that McGonagall sent her Patronus to gather the surviving members of the Order.
The following morning, the rag-tag bunch of exhausted witches and wizards were welcomed to McGonagall Manor by the majestic vision of the Scotland sunrise, reflecting off the dark stones of the ancient Manor. Standing regal in the midst of the magnificent sight was Minerva McGonagall, whose bearing radiated a sense of security they thought buried with Albus Dumbledore.
"Welcome to my home. I am pleased to see you all made it here safe. This is Fifi." She introduced the well dressed house elf beside her who gave a shy wave. "She has been kind enough to offer to show you to your rooms." Her eyes shifted from her recent students to her older ones. "However, I will be the one to show you three to your rooms. There is a matter I need to discuss with you." Arthur, Molly, and Tonks nodded their consent while Hermione lowered her head to hide her smile; her Professor still had no tolerance for idle chatter. Ron, on the other hand, became belligerent at the imagined slight.
"Hold on a minute! That's not fair. We're just as much a part of the Order as they are." He pointed an accusing finger at his flustered parents and Tonks. "We've fought Death Eaters, Dementors, and faced You-Know-Who."
"This coming from the boy who can't be trusted to do his homework." Hermione turned blazing eyes on the gangly teen. "And really Ronald, is it too much to ask that you use his name? It's Voldemort, if you've forgotten. Do you want me to show you how to spell it?"
Bewildered by the girl's unwonted conduct, McGonagall inquired, "Are you alright Miss. Granger?"
Hermione berated herself. McGonagall had enough problems without her adding to them. "I'm fine Professor. I'm sorry about my outburst." She only wished she could promise it wouldn't happen again, but Ron's behavior needed to be modified first.
"Maybe it would be best to let them in on all the Order's business." All eyes turned to the blushing Tonks. "Whether we like it or not, they are a part of this war. It is better to prepare them than it is to wrap them in bubble wrap and pretend He," she cast a nervous glance in Hermione's direction, "doesn't want them dead." All eyes returned to McGonagall while Ginny whispered, out of the corner of her mouth:
"What's bubble wrap?" Tonks' answer was an exasperated roll of her pink eyes. It figured that would be the only thing Ginny picked up on.
McGonagall's sharp eyes turned to the young adults in question.
The mischievous twins met her stare head on. Even though their methods were unorthodox, they proved in their seventh year they were willing to fight.
Ron, who was flushed with agitation, avoided her eyes. He had proven to be quick to anger, irresponsible, and had an inclination toward petty jealousy, yet he had shown himself to be loyal to his friends in dire situations.
Harry, The Boy Who Lived, was the most involved of any of them whether she deigned to include him or not.
Hermione, the brightest witch of her age, had the uncanny ability of finding heavily guarded information that fueled the Golden Trio's (as the newspaper had dubbed them) adventures.
Perhaps, it would be safest if she provided them with as many answers as she could?
"Though Mr. Weasley could have stated his opinion on the matter better, I do agree with your assessment Nymphadora."
Tonks glared at Ginny when the youngest Weasley snickered.
Ron barely managed to stutter an apology, before he lost what little ability he had to talk. Only the observant emerald eyes of McGonagall caught the annoyed roll of mocha eyes.
McGonagall acknowledged his apology with a small nod then turned her attention to the other wary travelers. "You all will be shown to your rooms. We will discuss the matter at breakfast in an hour." She turned sharply on her heels and led the way into the ancient Manor.
When she was sure she had escaped the animagus' scrutiny, Ginny let out a relieved sigh before following her friends and family inside.
Unlike at the Burrow and the Muggle house, there were enough rooms for everyone to have their own except for the twins who wanted to room together. They each, also, had a connecting washroom. It was a luxury that had Ginny doing a little jig and the twins exchanging devious smiles. Hermione hadn't had the courage to ask the boys what they were planning. She decided not knowing would be the best for plausible deniability.
When her friends started to make plans to search the rest of the Manor, Hermione politely excused herself and headed to her bedroom- the room at the other end of the hall.
She glanced out the large bay window as she lifted her suitcase on her bed. The sight of the valley in the moonlight would be lovely to watch on those sleepless nights.
Languid in her movements, she set to work on unpacking her suitcase. Two pictures, which she had laid protectively between her sweaters, were the first to be picked up. She paused to caress the smiling faces with shadowed eyes, before carefully setting them on the nightstand to the right of her bed.
Next were her books that enlarged once they were free of the confines of her suitcase. A small laugh escaped her as she recalled the sight of the Weasleys trying to pack everything, from their clothes to Molly's pots and pans, into a tiny suitcase... all without the use of magic. She had to endure the glares of the Weasleys as she brought her fully packed suitcase to the front door within five minutes of McGonagall's Patronus. Because she didn't fully unpack, her bag's magic was still functional. For the rest of the night, Harry, Tonks, and her worked hard and quickly to pack the Weasleys' possessions... and in the case of Arthur Weasley trying to stop him from packing the kitchen's appliances.
Returning to the present, mocha eyes searched the room for a place to set her beloved books. She decided on stacking them, by tens making sure she could read the spines, on the antique vanity parallel to her bed. Her prized Hogwarts, A History was given a place of honor between the two pictures on her nightstand.
She set to work on unpacking her clothes. She refolded each item of clothing then laid them on her bed. The familiar Muggle action reminded her of simpler, happier times. She allowed herself to become lost in her childhood memories: the days when she was too small to reach the clothing lines. She would sit under the oak tree in her backyard and watch her mum fold their clothes. When the wicker basket was full, her mum would call her over, and together, they would carry the basket into their home. They always dropped the basket on her parents' bed which is where they would sort the clothes. As they separated the clothes, her mum would tell her a story, usually about a fierce princess who fought to protect her homeland. Her giggles would grow so loud that her father would come in to 'investigate' what his 'two favorite girls' were doing.
A knock at the door tugged her mind to the present. "Come in," she yelled, expecting one of her friends. To her surprise, it was Headmistress McGonagall. Her emerald pullover fell to her suitcase unnoticed."Professor," she squeaked. What was she doing here?
McGonagall shut the door behind her. "Miss. Granger," she addressed, her attention split between the young woman and the changes that had been made to her guest room. She paused in her perusal to take a closer look at the pictures on the antique nightstand. One was a Muggle photo of a young Hermione cushioned between an older couple. They stood smiling in front of snow capped mountains with long sticks in their hands. They must have been skying. She never did manage to understand the appeal of the Muggle sport. The other frame held a magic photo of the famed trio. The three first years were in front of Hogwarts laughing at something off camera. Minerva knew the photo marked the beginning to the end of their childhood innocence.
"May I help you, Professor?" Hermione's query drew McGonagall's attention from the pictures to herself.
"I came to ask if there was something I could help you with."
Hermione's face clouded in confusion. "I don't have much to unpack, but thank you, Professor." The twins on the other hand... it was best not to think about.
"I was thinking more along the lines of is there something you would like to discuss."
Hermione took a sudden interest in her shoes. "No, Professor." Her words were a mere whisper.
"You still have not learn the art of lying."
"I didn't think lying was an art form."
"It is a despicable art but an art none the less." McGonagall stepped closer to the younger woman to lift her chin. She had learned, in Hermione's first year during the troll incident, that Hermione's eyes were easier to read than any book. "Tell me what is wrong."
Hermione stuttered, "I...I…can't." She wished she had the strength to look away.
"Can not or will not?"
Hermione faltered at the rare softness in her Professor's voice. "I... c-can't?" It came out as more of a question.
"Why?" McGonagall stroked the stubborn chin beneath her fingers.
Hermione leaned into the gentle touch."You have enough to worry about, Professor. You don't need anything more, besides, they're my responsibility."
"The unknown is more worrisome than the known," McGonagall reasoned.
She had to give the woman that. Hermione's world was filled with fears fueled by the unknown. "I had to protect them." Her voice wavered with tears. "Without me there, they would have been defenseless when Voldemort went after them."
"I assume you are talking of your parents." Hermione gave a small nod. "What did you do?"
"I erased their memories of me and replaced them with new one. I sold the house so they would have money to start their new life then apparated them to Australia and got all the Muggle paper work in order. They always wanted to own a café by the coast. My mum loves to watch the boats come in..." she trailed off, realizing she was starting to babble.
"What is the problem?"
"I'm going to die in this war." She had long ago accepted her fate. "They'll never get their memories back. I took their lives from them. I'm no better them Voldemort."
McGonagall could not argue against the very real possibility that they were not going to survive the war. She focused on reassuring the young witch of the one thing she had no doubt about."I cannot pretend to know what the future holds, but what I do know is that you have never been and will never be anything like that monster."
"But-"
"No, Hermione." The use of her first name startled them both. "Voldemort would have tortured and killed them. You two are nothing alike."
Tears filled Hermione's eyes at her Professor's words. "You really think so?" Surely, McGonagall wouldn't lie to her about such a thing.
McGonagall pulled the younger woman into a hug. "I do not think so. I know so." The gentle kiss she placed against the girl's head was lost in brown tresses.
In that moment, with the strong arms around her, the sturdy beat beneath her ear, and the warmth radiating off the older woman, Hermione believed for the first time since Voldemort's return that everything was going to be alright. She deeply breathed in the protection the smell of parchment, ink, and spice provided her.
Meanwhile, McGonagall relished in the feel of the smaller body she held against her own. Her enhanced senses picked up the scent of books, parchment, and lilies. Pulling back, she wiped the tears from the girl's face. "Are you okay?" She tucked a brown curl behind a small pink ear. Tongue tied, Hermione nodded her head. "If I survive the war and you do not, I will take care of your parents."
"If we both die?" McGonagall was as much a target as she was if not more so. The Death Eater who killed the current leader of the light would receive mighty praise from Voldemort. She viciously pushed away the small voice in her head demanding such a person's head.
"We will make a fail safe. Either way, your parents will get their memories back, and they will know what happened to their daughter."
"Thank you."
Minutes passed and neither moved.
"We should head down stairs. It is about time for breakfast," McGonagall suggested.
The dining room was a bustle of activity when they arrived. Harry and Ron were loudly discussing Quidditch; Ron was adamant that this was the year for the Chudley Cannons. Ginny's laughter mixed with her brother's crazed defense of the less than stellar team as Tonks contorted her face into a mixture of people and animals. Arthur and Molly watched their family silently.
"Where are the twins?" Hermione asked. It was never a good thing when the boys disappeared, especially when they were quiet.
The younger group turned wide eyes to her and stuttered at something about zits, sick, and picks. They hurriedly began talking again, hoping know one would ask them any details.
"Do I want to know?" McGonagall muttered out of the side of her mouth to the younger witch beside her.
"Probably not," Hermione admitted.
Chuckling, McGonagall let it go. As long as the twins didn't blow up her Manor, they could do whatever they wish. Some of their 'inventions' had proven to be valuable in battle.
Guiding the younger woman to her seat with a light hand on her lower back, McGonagall pulled out her chair causing Hermione to blush. "Thank you."
The Headmistress hummed her welcome and took her own seat at the end of the table directly across from Hermione.
With everyone seated, the breakfast magically appeared. McGonagall made a mental note to thank her house elf. Fifi had really out done herself. She had made a feast worthy of Hogwarts. Motioning to the food, she gave her permission to start, "Enjoy."
An hour later, the table was surrounded by groaning magical folks. Belts had been loosened, chairs had been pushed back, and plates had been pushed away. McGonagall watched in disbelief as Ronald shoveled everything that was left on the table into his mouth. She believed that Ron had a peg leg, as the Muggles would say... That did not sound quite right.
When he had gathered the last crumb off his plate with his last piece of bread, he leaned back and rubbed his stomach. "Are we having any desert?"
Ginny snorted. Only her brother could think of food after all that. "If you eat anymore, you'll be too fat to get on a broom," the youngest Weasley warned.
Ron scowled, "Shut'up."
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
"Enough," Molly ordered. "Minerva what was it that you wanted to talk with us about?"
McGonagall nodded her thanks before starting, "With Voldemort's return and Dumbledore's death, many are pushing for Hogwarts closing." She waited for the outbursts to stop then continued. "Thankfully, I managed to get the Ministry to agree that even with Voldemort's return and Dumbledore's death there is no safer place than Hogwarts for children who are yet untrained with matters dealing with magic and for those still needing to learn more. Hogwarts' reopening creates the problem of new Professors." Looking at each adult, she added, "That is where you three come in. I would like Tonks to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, Arthur Muggle Studies, and Molly Potions."
"What!" shouted Ron. "You want my PARENTS to teach at Hogwarts. I'll never live that down. You might as well turn me into a fairy and throw me in the Great Hall at dinner time."
"That could be arranged," Hermione darkly muttered. Maybe, she'd make the boy cupid. Better yet, she'd play cupid and make the bugger snog Crabbe and Goyle.
"B-b-but," Ron stuttered.
"Eloquent as always Ronald, " Hermione snapped.
Harry looked anxiously between his two friends, worried that they were going to have another one of their infamous blow outs.
McGonagall cleared her throat, stopping another legendary fight between the two friends. "Your parents Mr. Weasley, as well as Tonks, are very skilled in each of these fields and in fighting Voldemort and his army. Those are the kind of people I need at Hogwarts to protect my students." She softened her voice and reminded the ill tempered boy, "It would be good for you to remember you are one of the lucky few to still have your parents to embarrass you. There are many in our world, at this very table, that have lost that privilege."
The silence that followed was absolute.
"On that note," Tonks cheerfully stated, "I'd be honored to teach at Hogwarts. Merlin knows, I won't be able to do any good at the Ministry with it still going bonkers after Fudge's last stunt."
Fudge had put Dolores Umbridge- more commonly known as Umbitch- in charge of the Aurors before his death. The toad promptly fired Kingsley, who later died in the fight for Diagon Alley, and demoted those most loyal to him. A week later with the 'new and improved'Auror department, they raided a suspected Death Eater's house. Two minutes later, all eight of those 'Aurors' were dead. As for Dolores Umbridge, she is currently sitting with Gilderoy Lockhart in St. Mungo's. They are planning their wedding for next fall.
"Should have left her with the Centaurs," was grumbled in various voices.
"I agree with Tonks," Arthur clarified. While he was proud of what Hermione had done, he knew better than to say anything in front of his wife. "Hogwarts is the strong hold." It saddened him that the Ministry was falling. Like every government, know matter how good in theory, Muggle or magical, it was going to fall... all because of greed.
"I would like to be close to my family," Molly added. She had already buried one son and had another who bore the physical scars of Voldemort's followers.
"Thank you." It would do wonders to have people, friends, she could trust at her school. "Now that that is settled, I will leave you to finish your unpacking. The coming weeks will be hectic."
Everyone stood to leave. "Miss. Granger if you will remain behind, please." All knew it was not a request, no matter how politely framed.
On their way out, Harry and Ginny both patted Hermione's shoulder offering their silent support for the lecture they thought coming. Ron still angry walked by without a second glance. Tonks, being the last one out of the room, closed the door behind her effectively cutting off McGonagall and Hermione from prying ears and eyes.
Sighing into the silence, McGonagall rose from her seat. She walked over to the younger woman and kneeled down in front of her. "You need to control yourself. That behavior will costs you your friends."
Defiant eyes rose to glare at the Professor but quickly filled with tears when they were met with understanding.
"I don't know what's wrong with me." She knew the anger in her was wrong, but no matter how hard she fought, it grew stronger daily.
"You are worried, scared, and grieving. You have a right to be angry, but you must remember every person in this room earlier cares for you." McGonagall's voice was as confident as always.
"Even you?" It wasn't until she asked the question that she admitted how important the answer was to her. Fearing a negative response, she lowered her head.
Strong fingers lifted her chin. She wondered if it would become a habit. "Even me." Emerald eyes never wavered.
Standing, McGonagall offered a helping hand. "Come along. You still need to finish unpacking, and I have work to attend to."
"Yes Professor." She wanted to talk about her Professor's words, but if there was one thing she had learned about her mentor, it was that the older witch did not like to be pushed.
She took her Professor's hand and refused to let go once standing. With her bedroom on the way to McGonagall's study, she had no reason to let go.
McGonagall kept her questions about the younger's actions to herself as she led the way to the guest room Hermione had claimed.
At the bedroom's door, McGonagall bid farewell, "Until later Miss. Granger."
Hermione released the woman's warm hand and pulled her Professor into a hug.
McGonagall tensed. She didn't think she had ever been hugged by a student. The hug she initiated earlier didn't count. "Thank you," Hermione whispered near her ear. Stepping back, she slipped through her room's door. Her blush made visible by the sun streaming through the window.
Once in her study on the third floor, McGonagall looked into the small mirror on her wall. Her fingers shook as she traced her flushed cheek. "What is happening to me?"
~ooOoo~
Changes made:
The opening sequence (hated the first go 'round). Still have issues with this one but w/e. I give up.
Made it glaringly obvious McGonagall treats her elf right. We can't have Hermione getting cozy with a slave owner now can we?
Small bonus interaction b/w Tonks and Ginny... and by small, I really do mean minuscule.
Hopefully, more word variety. My vocabulary tends to go by-by when writing. Where did my teachers go wrong?
Most of the dialogue has been changed. Not in the way of contexts but more for flow... I still expect my old teacher to suddenly appear and attack me with her trident for daring to use the F word.
Lastly, I tried to clean up the grammar. I probably still failed epically, but hopefully, it has improved somewhat.
~ooOoo~
A/N: I feel I should warn you, I'm not Ron's biggest fan. If I was willing to deal with the emotional fallout of Ron's death, I would have killed him before this story started. Alas, it didn't happen and can't happen anytime soon with what I have planned. To sedate my sadistic side, I will poke fun at him but won't make him a complete bastard.