Author note: I absolutely must acknowledge my favorite stories – The Calendar Club by anonymouth as a major inspiration for this story and The Ties That Bind by Tigertales for its scenes of a certain quidditch match on the beach as having some flavor of what I've had to use here - "His name is Dirk!". Both these stories are ASTOUNDING and a MUST READ. I acknowledge the following HP authors and many others – all of whom have inspired me: Sela McGrane, tigertales, jazwriter, McGonagall's Bola, asouldreams, lolwrwg, tanithw, anonymouth, GreenEyedBabe, onecelestialbeing, Renard Noir, Twisted DKat, CherriiMarina, SassyKinglet21, Mr-Spock1, my dearest Sadainea, and of course – extra thanks for my betas Sadainea and Willowezra.

I own nothing, I make nothing, all credit is given J.K. Rowling.

Love Amongst the Quidditch Pitch

Chapter 1

2005, Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The tall thin form of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall gazed out the window of her office overlooking the school's Fountain Courtyard. It was late, perhaps midnight, but there was a full moon so from her high tower vantage point, beyond the courtyard she could see Merlin's Gate and well beyond that the inky blackness representing the edge of the Dark Forest. It was quiet, save the crackling of her fireplace. She pulled the forest green woolen robe covering her tan cotton nightgown a bit tighter around her neck and sighed. She wondered where the spark had gone. Here it was seven years post battle and in general, life was good. Voldemort defeated and over time, any remaining Death Eaters and other followers had been rounded up. Without the zealous, charismatic, fearsome leader, they either did not have the conviction or spirit to regroup and fight or they were too arrogant to understand the powerful strategy of teamwork and they were slowly captured one at a time or in small groups.

So why was she so tired she wondered? Why had the mundane issues of school finances begun to defeat her spirit as surely as two wars. She was decades younger than the previous Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, yet she felt tired and uninspired. As Headmistress, she met every student, but the young faces did not infuse her soul with energy they way they used to. True, the students were not as innocent right now. Their faces not as bright and eager as before. Too many had lost family in the war and had lived through or heard the horrid stories. They had experienced good people staying silent while the evil spread. The children did not openly "trust" as young ones normally would. Some of the older students, as old as 21 right now, had to take some time away then come back to finish. Those few had even been on the grounds during the worst of the death and destruction at her beloved Hogwarts. She didn't seem to be connecting to any of the students anymore. Not as she had with the irritating Weasley twins or the miraculous Golden Trio.

It had taken years to rebuild every wall and building, repair every classroom and book. It had taken Hogwarts a long time to fully trust the Headmistress and staff again (some of the staff had been evil indeed and misused their authority during the war) and allow them to re-infuse all the wards and other special magic into the hallowed halls and artifacts while removing all the evil spells and traps. It had taken years for the return of the magical creatures to the forest and the flora to regrow on ground soiled by blood and treachery. In parallel, they had struggled to find staff and funding to keep up the standards of a quality education. She had used up much of what she had inherited from Albus for the school over these seven years plus a lot of her own resources. She was indeed humbled to find he had left her part of his estate, although it was not large, having given much over the years to the school himself. Strange to realize that becoming Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts usually meant depleting your own resources both financially and mentally. She would have to fight with the ministry even harder for a reasonable budget as her finances would never last decades. So here she was with her main potions professor, Horace Slughorn, finally insisting on retiring (not that he had actually been getting paid) and she literally had no budget to pay whomever won the application process.

It is almost as if the school sucked the life out of you while denying you any other sustenance. She stroked the long braid of ebony hair coming down her chest and noted it was much more peppered with grey than it used to be. She sighed again noting there had been several turnovers since the last Hogwarts head who had had an active family. Most were basically married to the mysterious stone walls of the school.

Minerva turned from the window and lowered her head – Is this all there is now? – she wondered.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The very next day, Hermione Granger, the brains of the Golden Trio, once again sat at a table in The Three Broomsticks and ordered a butterbeer for "old times sake". They always tasted better here. They brought back memories, good and bad, of her Hogwarts years. After the battle was won, she had stayed at Hogwarts to aid in the rebuilding and to finish her schooling, taking the N.E.W.T. exams in Transfigurations, Potions, Ancient Runes, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms (making O's in all of them, quite a feat). She had considered taking more but ran into a big problem. It seemed quite odd at the time that two years after the defeat of Voldemort and after aiding in getting the wizardry world back on track and finishing her own studies that she finally ran into something she could not solve, not defeat. She had let Ron Weasley and Harry Potter skip returning to school and go off to be aurors and hunt down the remaining Death Eaters. Ron's wishes for her to join him and ultimately marry him fell to the wayside. She realized she only thought of him as a friend. Over time, there was only one person that she admired, one person that started to haunt her dreams. Only one set of emerald green eyes that could pierce her heart from across the room, only one graceful lithe body powering through the hallways calmly leading the free wizarding world back from the brink. Hermione had been stunned when she realized that the reason she had returned to school had less to do with continuing her education but everything to do with getting to see Minerva McGonagall. The war had taught her one thing, that every day mattered and to go with her heart – no matter what incredible thing it was telling her and her heart told her that she loved Minerva McGonagall body and soul.

Hermione continued to reflect on her decisions some five years ago as she sipped her butterbeer. As her N.E.W.T.s came and passed, she realized there was no longer a reason to stay at Hogwarts. Her parents, Ron, Harry, and even Minerva kept asking her what her next steps would be. Everyone noticed Hermione had been tense and tired, and most chalked it up to the anxiety over the tests and the completion of school. In reality, she had spent the last months trying to get up the courage to approach Minerva with her feelings. She had tried to get close to the venerable Headmistress, but Minerva was so busy. The most powerful witch in the world, it was her powers waking up the damaged school and repairing its magical passageways. It was her spirit fighting to have temporary classes restart in a scant few months while repairs continued. It was her face at the Ministry fighting for budget and working with the aurors as the Head of the Order. It was her leading negotiations with magical creatures to return peace between the species. If anything, Minerva pulled back from interacting directly with anyone in a personal way, with the exception of Poppy Pomfrey perhaps, due to her heavy workload. With a heavy heart, Hermione realized things were just too busy to burden Minerva further with an expression of feelings from a former student, and a former female student at that, which she would probably rebuke anyway.

Hermione blinked back the tears remembering her packing and the plan she had worked out to attend Merlin University to work on Masteries in both Potions and Charms. Although she loved Transfiguration and studied it still, she just could not see getting a Mastery in it under anyone but the best Transfigurationist in the Wizardry World. So she chose her next interests to pursue. As a member of the Golden Trio, the Ministry had agreed to cover the costs including room and board so that issue was alleviated. Not that it was one. The Daily Prophet had paid handsomely for stories from the Trio and the many speeches she gave on teamwork, muggles, and her battles had earned a substantial amount in her bank account at Gringotts. She shuffled through those years concentrating on the schooling once again and living under the shadow of being a hero. She could never get Minerva far from her thoughts though. Over time, her feelings had simply clarified and become deeper, more ingrained in her. She was a noble warrior, honoring and loving another warrior from afar but never adding to their burdens. In general, she withdrew from being too close to anyone. Pressure from her parents and friends to date was ignored. She had fallen back on the "busy being the best at everything" persona. She visited Minerva when the Headmistress would allow but never approached the subject of their relationship. Over time, Minerva completed some of the tasks that had consumed her, but still seemed to always be busy and aloof.

Then the day came. Hermione had taken a few months after graduating, having gained her Level 1 Masteries in both Potions and Charms, to research where to go for the more advanced levels. She was playing with her wavy chestnut colored hair, contemplating leaving England to distance herself more from the ecstasy and agony of loving Minerva when she saw the notice in the paper. Horace Slughorn was retiring and Hogwarts was advertising for a Potions Professor, Level 1 Potions Mastery or more required. This was a sign, it had to be. It was not time to run again, it was time to try for a life with Minerva.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk reviewing the four final candidates for the Potions position. Once again, she was working well into the night. The office fireplace crackled and popped but failed to drown out the sounds of the gears turning in her head. Deputy Headmaster Filius Flitwick had already given his recommendation to her. The half-goblin Charms professor and Head of Ravenclaw House had surprised her and not chosen the candidate that had come from his own house some 10 years ago. Nor had Professor Slughorn chosen the candidate from his Slytherin house (even though it meant someone else on the staff would have to take over heading Slytherin). Three of the candidates were Hogwarts graduates (one Ravenclaw, one Slytherin, one Gryffindor) that had proceeded on to various universities while one was from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France and had gone to Marc University. All were relatively young, the oldest being out of university only about five years. The pay was not great so anyone with experience was already out in the world earning more than Hogwarts could pay. The Headmistress was still working with the Ministry for more of a budget so she had started with a bare minimum salary level. For the most part, this meant the candidates had bare minimum capabilities – except for one glaring inconsistency.

As Minerva studied the resume parchment, she felt something. A tickling in her stomach, a fluttering in her heart, a quickness in her breathing, and somehow, a single warm pulse emanated from her and into the cold school walls. For the first time in many years she was a bit unnerved, a bit flustered, and the source was not identifiable. It was not frustration over the budget or rebuild or classroom issues. It was not a cold nor some magical plague or spell leapfrogging through the school population. She opened the top buttons of her outer robe and took a deep, energizing breath.

This semester was ending. Horace has said he would stay a few weeks of the summer to overlap with the new faculty appointee and go over the curriculum, supplies, and processes. Minerva needed to make the decision for that overlap to happen. Yes she had waited two days already, each night staring at the candidate information and recommendations for awhile before going off to other work.

"Why? Why has she applied?" Minerva whispered to herself. She deserves so much more – Minerva thought. She had always held a special admiration for this one cub. The female member of the Golden Trio had won her stripes admirably. The smartest, the most innovative young witch of this generation. Many times she had been compared to Minerva herself. Hermione had been so good in Transfigurations that Minerva initially thought she would specialize in it so it was somewhat of a surprise to see the Masteries in Charms and Potions. I wonder why not Transfigurations… Minerva thought. To once again be under the same roof with Hermione. What would it be like?

Minerva rose and walked across the office to a small table with a few bottles and decanters filled with various liquid refreshment and several thick crystal glasses. She gazed at the table and poured herself two fingers of liquid relaxation in the form of Firewhiskey. She sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace watching the red and yellow flames dance with each other and sipped. She caressed the exposed skin at the apex of her warming throat as she thought back some five years to Hermione's departure. How sad Hermione seemed. Minerva assumed it was just because she was leaving her Hogwarts home. Minerva was so busy and focused at the time. She grimaced realizing just how little she had done to herald the girl's aid and achievements and comfort and guide her at that time. Now, reviewing her feelings, Minerva realized that was when the feeling of separation from people had started in earnest. She had been able to meet with Hermione a few times during her university studies, and each time had been a polite, cordial, and uneventful. She had felt Hermione had changed, the vibrancy gone. The thirst for knowledge was still there, but the innovative, spontaneous spark was dimmed. Hermione didn't seem to engage Minerva in conversation in any way outside of academics or studies, so Minerva had no idea if the war was still affecting the girl.

Minerva was worried for Hermione on so many levels. Would she be limiting Hermione's life or Hermione's ultimate achievements by letting the talented, famous witch return to Hogwarts in a standard professorship position? Could coming back here bring back bad memories? Or good ones? It was well known Hermione was unattached, how would she find a partner buried here with the average age of the staff more than thirty years her senior? But Hermione was an adult, a Potions and Charms Mastery Level 1, and had applied for the job without being asked to. Minerva had read in the paper that the young witch was even staying near the school in Hogsmeade already. Taking another sip, Minerva let her wheels turn and balanced the goals of this entire endeavor. The school and its students would receive the benefit of a truly talented witch and potions professor. The faculty would get new blood, younger blood, and someone intimately knowledgeable of the school and its history. She could take over the lead of Gryffindor House and be that person to connect with the students and help them trust again. Minerva reasoned she was doing what was best for the school. She nodded and pursed her lips proud at the logic of it all. She took another sip letting the burn linger in her throat. She sighed and let a slightly selfish impulse go through her, she could once again connect with Hermione too. She felt warm for the first time in quite a while.

So it came to pass that Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin First Class, member of the Golden Trio, the most talent witch of her generation, returned to the place that held her best and worst memories, but most importantly - the love of her life, and she became Professor Granger, Potion Master, Head of Gryffindor House, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

One month later…

Professor Hermione Granger stood at the rotating spiral staircase entrance to the Headmistress' office at the time she had arranged and stated the password "Jelly Slug". She smiled as she entered and the staircase turned carrying her up to the office level. She knew Minerva was paying tribute by continuing the tradition that Albus had started of using candy names for the passcode to the Headmaster's office. I miss him too Minerva… Hermione thought.

Hermione quietly walked into the ornate, high ceilinged room, always feeling a bit intimidated. Portrait after portrait held a portal to previous Headmasters and Headmistresses, many remaining to advise and watch over the current Head of Hogwarts although most had other portraits they could relax in also so there were plenty of empty frames. Some were also so old they spent most of their time snoozing away, but still, they had earned their slumber.

"I'll be right down Professor Granger," Minerva called from the open bedchamber door at the top of the office's internal spiral staircase.

Hermione winced. She knew Minerva was just trying to show her the respect that she wanted all the faculty and students to show their youngest professor, but she hated the "distance" that using their titles, even when they were alone, was causing. That was one of the things she was going to fix right now.

Hermione looked off to the left wall and locked eyes with the Albus Dumbledore portrait. He was there, a slightly dull version of himself but it was good to know not all of him was lost. He did not tend to talk a lot but she noticed he produced a little smile and winked at her. Hermione smiled back, gaining some courage from his support. Minerva came out of the bedchamber and proceeded down the staircase, the top of her black outer teaching robes unbuttoned to reveal a emerald green thin inner robe. Hermione's eyes followed the vision of matching eyes and robe as Minerva gracefully flowed down the stairs.

"Professor Granger, sorry to keep you waiting. Come, let's sit over here", Minerva said indicating the couch in front of the fireplace.

"So, I supposed to wanted to give me a status and tell me of any changes you are thinking about since this was the last of your transition days with Horace." Minerva continued.

"Yes and to ask a couple of favors." replied Hermione. Minerva raised her eyebrow with a twitch of her lip at the word "favors" wondering what her young cub could be up to.

Hermione took a deep calming breath. She needed to sound in control, logical, and definitely NOT appear flustered even though she was sitting alone so near Minerva.

"Headmistress, I must first say Horace has been quite accommodating and Hogwarts has the greatest Potions curriculum in the world for underage wizards and witches. You can rely on me to continue that tradition. I believe we are using the correct instructional materials for both the basic level and N.E.W.T. level classes and we have excellent supplies. My initial adjustments are only going to be to cover safety in a more integral way, I'm adjusting some of the supplies to put ingredients I need closer, and I learned a few options to adjust some of our basic skin and hair treatment potions that I want them to learn."

Minerva smiled in agreement with all that Hermione was saying and admired the young witch's maturity and knowledge. This was no longer the student she remembered. As Hermione continued on with a few other classrooms adjustments Minerva noticed Hermione's eyes had a gorgeous whiskey brown color, that her lips were the color of a precious pink rose … something about better lighting on her desk … that she could smell a light lavender smell – must be her soap … something about making teams from different houses …

Hermione noted that Minerva was nodding but her eyes seemed to be glazed over a bit and were overly concentrating on her lips.

"Now onto the favors I want to ask" Hermione said with a bit of an elevated tone. Minerva jolted out of her trance and blinked realizing she had been "drifting" in her concentration.

"Yes, what are you needing Professor Granger. Something for the class?" Minerva responded.

"No. Both of them are of a personal nature." Hermione responded with more hushed a tone. Minerva looked at Hermione with interest.

"First of all, I've noticed you call every other professor here by their first name but me. I know you mean it to show respect and make sure others are doing the same, but when at a private faculty function or when we are alone like this, or at any time you are using first names, I would really appreciate it if you would call me Hermione. You are singling me out and it makes me feel more distant from everyone." Hermione took a breath. She had gotten it out, now was Minerva going to be okay with it.

Minerva thought about what Hermione had said and had to agree, she had indeed been overcompensating.

"Hermione," Minerva sighed and nodded, "you are right. I've taken things too formal thinking some might try to take advantage of your youth. Indeed I see that it is not the case." Minerva's lips quirked into a lopsided grin, "I see you don't need my help affirming you are respected. At the right times, you can also call me Minerva."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and could not help but break into a very large smile, "Thank you…. Minerva." It was not easy to roll that name off her tongue even though her mind had thought of the Headmistress as just Minerva for years.

"So what is the other personal favor you need …. Hermione?" Minerva asked, still carrying a slight grin.

Hermione glanced at the fireplace embers. She had several reasons for the next request. Some obvious and logical and therefore it should look above board. But she also knew it would give her hours of time each week to spend with the Headmistress alone. Her heart fluttered at the thought. She could not bring herself to look Minerva in the eyes for fear Minerva would see through the logical reasons and find the hidden longing reflected in her eyes.

"I love Transfiguration. Always did and I think you know that. But I could not see myself at Merlin University or any other place getting a Mastery in it under anyone but you. Since I am here, will you please let me apprentice under you and gain my Transfiguration Mastery?"

Minerva smiled. She was exceedingly happy that she had an answer to Hermione's strange Mastery choices. She reached out to gently pull Hermione's chin and rotate her head so that their eyes met.

"I would be honored." Minerva quietly answered. The two greatest witches of their time stayed locked in that quiet moment. Another pulse of hope, of life generating energy, of feelings yet to be discovered emanated from the Headmistress into the cold walls of the school.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Three months later…

Professor Granger sat at the faculty table enjoying the hearty oatmeal and fruit that she had always preferred at Hogwarts for breakfast. The room was filled with the banter of hundreds of students starting off their school day. One month into the semester, things were going well in general. Hermione had reorganized the basic laboratory and curriculum for the potions class to better suit her style. She was quickly gaining the "no nonsense" command of the classroom that she needed for the respect of her students and to keep them safe. Potions always had some danger to it, so diligence and attention to detail was part of standard practices. So far, there had only been one "green cloud" that had caused three student's hair to fall out.

"Clearly told them only two drops of dragon's blood, not a full measure." Hermione whispered to herself in remembrance.

Professor Granger glanced around the room, stoically watching out for student misbehavior and took a sip of her coffee enjoying the dark brew with her customary milk and two sugars. She turned more and more so she could see down the faculty table. She had chosen to retain sitting to the far left of the Headmistress' seat just so she could observe a majority of the table's inhabitants. It was a customary spot for the potion's professor anyway. She also liked it because she only had one person next to her which was Professor Aurora Sinistra, Professor of Astronomy and now Head of Slytherin house. She glanced up watching as the dark skinned professor chatted with Professor Sprout. Aurora's story was actually quite complex. In the first war, Aurora's family had been brutalized by Voldemort. The family had a long history of belonging to Slytherin but their emphasis and expertise were in science and how to Defend against the Dark Arts rather than use them. Like Severus Snape was ultimately shown to be, the Sinistra family did not support the Dark Wizard and for that, few of her family had made it through the first war. When it was evident that Voldemort and his followers were returning, Dumbledore personally protected Aurora, often keeping her close and within the strongest wards that he and the school had to offer. Her relationship to Slytherin was not emphasized during Hermione's years at the school nor did she take much limelight, but Hermione had witnessed the normally quiet professor fight with fury as one of the faculty in the final battle and she had saved many a student with her defensive knowledge. When it was clear that Voldemort and his dark following was truly gone, it was like a veil was lifted from Aurora and she let the world truly in again. Hermione let a small smile curl her lips. She knew Slytherin House was in good hands with Aurora and the students sorted into that house would be led on a good, but still strong path.

Hermione continued to move her eyes down the mix of familiar and new faces at the table until her breath was once again stopped by the vision of Minerva's learned face. The Headmistress had finished her food and was sipping on her customary hot tea with milk while chatting to Madam Pomfrey. Minerva felt a tickle at the back of her neck, like someone was watching her. She subtly moved her eyes to look over the front of Poppy's face just in time to lock with Hermione's whiskey brown eyes. Both witches held onto the gaze for just a second, then Minerva gave a small nod, Hermione widened her eyes at being caught, nodded back, then returned to looking over the room of students. Damn her cat senses…. Hermione thought.

Hogwarts felt it first. Not a solid form – but a mass of magical energy. It was an old magic, something not used for more than Triwizard Communication for quite some time and even that tournament had not been held in some 8 years and may never be again. It was a message, a signal from one of the other schools free flowing to the Headmistress. It was clearly not malicious, nor did it hold power, just a communication that insisted on penetrating to her immediately.

A cold wave permeated the great hall. The Headmistress could sense the warning from Hogwarts – something had breached the wards. She snapped her head up looking out over the room and rising, wand drawn. Within seconds, others could feel it and in particular Aurora and Hermione rose in a defensive stance while a giant hush fell over the room. Students started to rise and scatter, breaking the silence with the sounds of panic and clambering feet, as a red, brown and black mass some ten feet wide started forming 20 feet from the floor in front of the faculty table.

"No one MOVE," the Headmistress' amplified voice commanded. She recognized the signal now. The quiet and stillness returned to the room.

With a huff, a relieved Headmistress McGonagall said, "Everyone, put your wands away and sit. This is a directed communication from one of the other schools. It is safe - just rarely used."

Minerva remained standing and hardened her jaw into her best commanding stare as the mass slowly took form into a giant disembodied semi-transparent head. Colorless eyes stared down from the red and brown face which included a slick of black hair and an ornately sculpted beard and mustache.

Minerva glared up at the mass. "Headmaster Tchekov, welcome to Hogwarts." Minerva held back on the scathing remarks she would prefer to have said such as: interrupting breakfast, being overly theatrical, and scaring her student body and faculty.

Headmaster Anton Tchekov had taken over the Durmstrang Institute once the previous Headmaster Igor Karkaroff had disappeared during the last war. Although they had only met twice since that time, Minerva respected the new Headmaster. The previous Headmaster and the school in general had leaned towards support of the Dark side. They had taught not only the Dark Arts (for defensive purposes only they said) but they only allowed pure blood students and very few females. Headmaster Tchekov had taken over two years after the war and refounded the abandoned school with funds from his own family and with the support of the Ministry and other families wishing to see the school return for the sake of the northern students. He had pushed compromises on both sides. The school developed a "Defense Against the Dark Arts" curriculum although they still taught some offensive dark spells. The school had to start allowing non-pure bloods although it would still not admit muggles. It hired more female faculty, upgraded to include fully separate female housing, and widened their sciences curriculum so more females were now attending. He still held the arrogant dark sneer of a confident Durmstrang Headmaster, but inside, Minerva knew he could be trusted.

"Thank you Headmistress McGonagall," his dark voice rang out through the hall. "I apologize eef my communication has interrupted your day but I bring an Honor Challenge to you. Ve vish to recreate dee comradre between schools und between our geographical factions that once existed."

Minerva's eyebrow rose at the words Honor Challenge. An Honor Challenge between the schools had not happened since before the first war. It was meant to be a contest for the pure honor of winning with some sort of side prizes. It was not meant to be excessively dangerous such as the Triwizard tournament could be and was from a time when life was truly a game, was truly fun. A time before darkness loomed over them. They were usually proposed in this fashion, a pure blindside from one school to another. She had heard a story of Durmstrang's Headmaster showing up at Hogwarts and literally throwing a gauntlet at the gate and challenging the Hogwarts Headmaster to an arm wrestling competition with the loser's entire seventh year class having to parade around the winner's school grounds naked. Hogwart's seventh years had "fine bodies" she heard.

Hermione gasped, she had read about Honor Challenges in "Hogwarts: A History" but had obviously never experienced one. She looked out and could see most of the student body were looking around at each other shrugging and had no clue what the Headmaster was talking about. She made a mental note to review the Hogwart's History lesson plan with the current instructor.

The floating Headmaster's head continued, "Honor starts vith dee faculty und graduates, so dis challenge ees not for dee students." A collective sigh rang out from those few students who did know what this was all about.

The head continued, "Een eight veeks time, ve shall return to play dee Hogwarts Headmistress, faculty, und graduates een a Qvidditch match. Our rules are simple: Headmistress or Headmaster und at least two faculty on dee field at all times baring injuries, graduates must have graduated at least three years prior und must not have played professional Qvidditch een three years or more. Catching Golden Snitch vorth standard points but does not end dee match, eet ees released, therefore a von hour time limit vith highest score at end vins. Independent referee from Vorld Cup. Everyone een attendance vill pay a fee und dee vinner vill get 75% of proceeds, dee loser 25% including part of any vagers."

The Headmaster apparition smiled, allowing the ceiling images to show through his transparent teeth in an eery sort of way, and winked at the Headmistress, "So vhat say you Headmistress Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts? Even vhen ve vin, you get something. Make some money for both schools. Do you accept?"

The student body reacted before the dumbstruck faculty or Headmistress had a chance too. They smiled and cheered and jumped up and down. The room came alive with a deafening roar of excitement and energy as the walls had not seen in years.

The pressure was on. Internally, Minerva did not like the distraction of this non-academic event and was slightly concerned on her own ability to play as it had been "quite some time". But to see the room light up with the energy that she had found missing was heartening. How could she possibly turn this down? She was going to need to challenge her "inner Albus". She also appreciated the Durmstrang Headmaster reviving this old tradition. Again, he had called out to the "good old days" and how could she refuse. Money for the school. How could she refuse?

Minerva looked over her right shoulder to note how Madame Rolanda Hooch, the Hogwart's Flying, Quidditch, and general Physical Fitness instructor, was handling this. Rolanda was one of Hogwart's more flamboyant instructors but the compact, hard-living ex-Quidditch player had a no nonsense countenance concerning Quidditch and flying. Her hawk-like features, glowing hazel eyes, and spiked blonde/white hair always led students to wonder whether she was actually related to some sort of magical bird-like creature. Minerva's mouth dropped as she saw Madam Hooch was already standing on the table, fists pumping in the air, cheering with the students. Minerva grimaced and called out, "Rolanda, get OFF the table". Madam Hooch sheepishly grinned at her old friend and climbed down.

Minerva made eye contact with each professor, they better understand that other than ones with physical issues, each professor's neck was on the line as much as her own. Each professor nodded their acceptance.

When Minerva finally locked eyes with Hermione, she not only saw the support and admiration that Hermione held for her, she saw something else lingering under that gaze. They had started spending a few hours a week together initially simply working on an outline of Hermione's Transfiguration Mastery plan. During that time, both of them had noticed how well they blended. How some of the ghosts of the war and recovery from it had disappeared. Minerva had started to relax more and had noticed some looks from Hermione that were flustering to say the least. Minerva's breathing hitched for just a moment as Hermione nodded to her and then her lips first pursed slightly together and then moved into a small glowing smile with some raised eyebrows.

That got her attention… Hermione thought to herself. She also thought she might have noticed a slight red tint appear on Minerva's face. Aurora watched the little display between the two witches and held back a chuckle. Minerva is in such trouble.. the astronomy professor thought to herself.

The noise still permeating the room finally knocked Minerva out of her Hermione trance. She broke the eye contact and took a deep breath calming her flush. Straightening her back, she turned and gazed back up at the auspicious form of the Headmaster Tchekov apparition. The room grew quiet, everyone awaiting her response.

In a loud, clear voice Minerva announced, "Hogwarts Accepts" and the room broke out in raucous applause and jumping again while the apparition imploded into a swarm of red flames and sparks, a dark haunting laugh mixing in with the jubilation.

Author's note: Reviews spur me forward. Please let me know what you think.