Blink.
The first years are standing in line, looking nervous. There is obviously another Weasley, Potter is there, Malfoy, Longbottom, and…Granger…an awkward and out of place young girl. She steps forward and the Deputy Headmistress observes her through her spectacles before placing the hat upon her unruly hair. The hat takes but a moment to decide and she is placed within Professor McGonagall's care for the next seven years- joining her fellows at the Gryffindor table.
Blink.
A little girl with big teeth, bushy hair, and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge sits eagerly in the front row seat of her Transfiguration class, studiously taking notes as she studies the blackboard and the professor beside it. Her chocolate brown eyes are wide with excitement and her quill flies across parchment.
Blink.
Poppy calls her through the floo and insists she come through to the hospital wing. Minerva sighs but does as asked, her eyebrows arching as she takes in a very furry Hermione Granger, weeping into her pillow. She strokes the child's tail and settles in the chair next to her bed, knowing that her Gryffindor needs her.
Blink.
Stiff and still, the tiny figure lays at Minerva's feet as she tries to process what has happened. Green eyes grow wet as she kneels beside the small form of her student. She prays to Merlin that the child lives. Her breath is released all at once when she learns she was alive, petrified, but alive though her heart remains still. It starts beating again with a surge of pride when her eyes spot that same little Gryffindor is running through the Great Hall to her friends after the Basilisk has been slayed.
Blink.
Two boys ignore a miserable Hermione, shooting angry glares her way. They whisper harshly to one another, the wind carries it to their Head of House's ears. Broom. Snitch. Teacher's Pet. They're angry about the broom. The aging witch shakes her head, knowing that their friend worried for Harry's safety. This too would pass.
Blink.
It's the middle of the night and she has been roused from her peaceful slumber. Her destination? The hospital wing for three students. Of course it is them. Always them. Always her. Dread fills her as she enters to find Severus foaming at the mouth, Dumbledore insisting they had not caused the mayhem he claims. Her eyes seek out brown ones and she knows instantly that Hermione had broken her word. She feels anger and disappointment but does not speak, does not offer Severus the truth.
Blink.
Three champions stand nervously in front of her, their dates squirming slightly. She waits with a learned patience for Krum and his date to join the line. Audible gasps cause her gaze to rise to the top of the stairs. Darkening green eyes observe the young woman as she descends the stairs, the lilac colored dress highlighting her transformation into a woman. A spike of fury drives through her as she watches Krum take Hermione's hand and kiss it. The fiery anger is doused by the cold mental reminder that she is Hermione's teacher. Her attention returns to the task at hand and she hurries the couple to join the other three.
Blink.
Dumbledore sits beside her, explaining to Hermione and to Ronald their part in the second task. She feels a fierce need to protect her, to save her. She is her treasure, not Krum's! Her gray streaked hair threatens to escape the confines of its usual impeccable bun as she violently shakes her head, willing the thoughts to disappear. Her uneasiness grows as Dumbledore places them under his spell.
Blink.
Anger. Anger washes over her with the force of a tsunami as eyes alight on the faint outline of words marring the soft, otherwise unblemished, skin of her charge. Lips thin significantly as her questioning gaze meets the determined gaze of a warm chocolate pair of eyes. The refusal to discuss the matter makes her burn brighter with fury. When the fury has burned itself out, it is replaced with a deep feeling of failure. She had not protected her.
Blink.
Emotions swirled within her. Pride that Hermione had worked so hard to receive and give an education in defense despite the obstacles the pink toad had forced in her path. Anger that she had hidden it from all the staff. Understanding that Hermione was trying to protect her friends. Disappointment that she was not chosen as a confidant. And…one more. One emotion Minerva dared not wish to name though she could no longer deny it. Love. She was beginning to feel love. Her hand grasped at the neck of her robes, pulling at the collar that was suddenly too tight. She was Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Head of Gryffindor House, and Transfiguration Professor. She did not fall in love with her students. Ever. Or so she told herself as she clamped down hard on that emotion, shoving it into the recesses of her mind and vowing not to allow it to see the light of day again.
Blink.
Curses flew past her but it did not matter to her. She had eyes only for the young brunette constantly flirting with death as it continually passed her by, missing by inches each time. Her eyes flashed angrily as she registered that the killing curse had missed by a hair. A bushy brown hair. With a roar, she took out her opponent and cursed Hermione's. A silent nod of thanks was her only acknowledgement before a new opponent claimed her attention.
Blink.
The wind rushed from her lungs at the realization she was not coming back next year. If at all. Logically she knew Hogwarts would not be safe for her any longer but it was not enough to allow her to catch her breath. She wanted to protect her. Tears streamed down her face and she grasped her office chair for support. This was goodbye.
Blink.
A bolt of green light pierced the haze of smoke from the falling debris. The final battle would claim her life as it had so many others. It was with the determination and courage of a Gryffindor that she stared death in the eyes, knowing she could not escape it. Not this time. Her only regret was not telling her she loved her. Blink. A glimpse of brown eyes and then her world melted away to nothingness.
Blink.
Mourners gathered together, tears streaming down many of their faces as they stood around the grave of one of the most powerful and infamous witches to have ever lived. Long after the others had left, three remained. Harry and Ron watched on as the woman stepped forward to say her most painful goodbye.
Blink.
Knees touched dirt and hands clung to the smooth marble of the tomb so similar to Dumbledore's. Dirt turned to mud as tears ran freely from her face. "She loved you." The black haired boy broke the silence. He had known. He had seen it in the way the two women had looked at one another. It was silent. But it was there.
Blink.
"I love you." The words are ripped from her throat and are punctuated by sobs. She is not talking to the boys.
Blink.
After several moments, she regained her composure and stood. Taking the hands offered her by the boys, she looked back once more to where her heart lay.
Blink.
"Goodbye…Hermione."
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters belonging to said series.
Author's Note:
This is my first ever HG/MM fic and I hope you will review it and let me know what you think! Any constructive criticism is welcome! I really am not sure if you saw that coming or not but just in case you are still confused, that flash of brown Minerva saw as the killing curse headed her way was Hermione throwing herself in front of the curse and taking it instead. Minerva was hit with a different curse that knocked her out.
-R. B.