Cold
It was the worst snowstorm in the last decade with so much snow that many trees buckled under the weight. The temperature dropped drastically below zero at night and the wind chill was even worse. Most people stopped their useless attempts to shovel the white mess and gave in to their fate, trying to heat their houses to feel warm, at least at home. In four days it would be Christmas anyway. The season of love. Hermione Granger wondered exactly how much love she would get this year as she, already dressed in a cosy, warm, nightgown, stared through the window at the lonely starlit night sky. Everything looked so calm and peaceful covered in white, when a sudden loud bang echoed through Hermione's home, causing a violent jolt of shock to pass through her.
Grabbing her wand from the nightstand the young woman carefully headed for the front door, curious as to who would await her outside.
"Who is it?" she asked, her wand ready to defend herself if she had to.
"Miss Granger."
Although the voice outside the door dithered so much that it was barely understandable, Hermione would have recognized it out of a million. She opened the door immediately, gasping aloud at the sight before her.
"Oh dear God! Professor McGonagall, come in!"
The girl couldn't keep the terror out of her voice and her face, seeing that her beloved Professor barely managed to stand, let alone walk without help. Hermione quickly reached out to support the shaking woman and virtually dragged her into the house, shutting the door with her foot to keep the chill out.
"Professor, can you use a spell to get warm and dry?" The young witch asked, concern clear in her voice.
"N-n o-o. D-de-a-th-th-eat---ter," was all she managed to reply.
Hermione nodded. "We need to get you upstairs where it's warm as soon as possible."
"I d-don't th-ink I c-can," Minerva whispered, ready to give up and faint from exhaustion.
"Shh, it's alright I'll help you. Come on step by step. Lean on me, I promise I won't let you fall," the young women soothed, leading her slowly upstairs, while carrying most of her Professors weight.
"That's it. We're almost there. Hold on just a little while longer. I know you can do it!"
Hermione wasn't too sure if she said that to encourage the wet and terribly shaking woman or herself, too wet by now from holding and supporting her professor.
They entered a warm bedroom, with a large wardrobe to the right and a double bed on the left, nightstands on either sides of it. It was a nice looking room with furniture made of wood and walls painted in warm colours.
"Here we are," the young witch said as she helped her mentor to sit on the bed.
It was now that Hermione had enough time to look at the older woman properly. She was still shaking madly, her thick robes that were covered with snow and ice a few minutes ago were now soaked with water. Her hair, tied in the usual bun, had become a mess and the loose wisps were still frozen stiff. From her unhealthy blue coloured lips, she managed to form the words "hot bath" that shook Hermione out of her observation.
The girl tried to keep all her emotions out of her voice.
"No, Professor. I'm sorry but your temperature is much too low for a bath. Even barely lukewarm water will feel extremely hot for you. We'll need to warm you up the slow way with blankets and hot water bottles." Taking a breath she added "But first of all we need to get you dry. Can you remove your clothes on your own?"
The exhausted woman nodded her head slightly. "I t-th-ink s-so."
"Good. I'll bring a cosy, warm, nightgown and get the hot water bottles ready. I'll be right back," she assured her mentor and headed for the door.
When Hermione entered the bedroom once again, she noticed that her teacher had managed to remove her outer robes and a thick jumper, now desperately struggling to open the buttons of the blouse she was wearing. Seeing this, the young witch placed the three hot water bottles she was carrying under the blanket and laid the nightgown on top of it, before facing her professor. She took the trembling hands in hers and gave them a reassuring squeeze.
"It's alright. Let me help you," she said gently while unbuttoning the woman's blouse.
Her Professor couldn't look her student in the eyes and observed a spot on the carpet, when she suddenly remembered something.
"Herm-m-ione, your p-parents. Where…"
She was cut off by Hermione. "They're gone. Don't worry."
Minerva was slightly irritated that the girls' parents weren't at home a few days before Christmas and in weather like this, but didn't ask, because Hermione finished her task and moved on to help her get off the trousers.
"I t-think I can d-do the r-rest on my own. Thank you, Her-m-mione," she whispered, embarrassed.
The young woman knew how hard it was for her Professor to accept help and decided it was a good sign that she wouldn't let her remove the most private parts of her clothing.
"All right, Professor. I need to get something. I'll be back in a minute." She smiled reassuringly at the woman she loved like a mother and wondered briefly what had happened to her and why she came to her in the first place as she left the room.
Minerva McGonagall changed as fast as her shaking extremities would let her into the nightgown Hermione had provided and was just finished when the girl re-entered the room. The older witch wondered at what the girl was up to with the strange things she was carrying, but trusted her enough not to be alarmed.
Hermione smiled amused as she saw her stern transfiguration teacher in a checker muggel nightgown.
"Here Professor," she said and handed her mentor a cup of hot tea and draped an extra blanket around her mentors shoulders. "You drink and I'll take care of your hands and feet. It would probably be safe to assume that they are numb with cold, so I brought a heating lotion."
"Yes, they are, but you don't need to… I mean, I can…" The old witch searched for the right words, but the young woman with the big brown eyes understood and quickly reassured her, secretly pleased that the dithering in the woman's voice had vanished.
"Please Professor, don't worry. That's no problem at all," she said kneeling down, slowly kneading her mentors' feet with the lotion. She didn't look up, in order not to add to her Professor's embarrassment until she was ready, then reached for the woman's hands and proceeded with her gentle treatment.
"There now. Why don't you lie down and let me blow dry your hair."
Nodding, Minerva McGonagall moved to obey her student, when she abruptly stopped.
"Let you what?"
Hermione smiled at the sudden outburst. "This is a muggel hair dryer," she said, picking up the strange thing Minerva noticed earlier. "It works with electric current. You put that end in an outlet and warm air comes out of the other side. See," the girl asked turning the dryer on, causing her now lying Professor to jerk at the noise.
Now convinced that the utensil wasn't dangerous, she let the young witch, who cared with so much love about her, proceed. Feeling much better now that she was dry and tucked in a warm blanket, she slowly relaxed under Hermione's gentle touches, though she still felt cold.
The noise went off and Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her mentor with concern in her eyes.
"Are you feeling a bit better now?"
"Yes, dear. I'm very tired and still cold, but much better," the still slightly shivering woman replied, gratitude evident in her voice
"Would you tell me what happened?" the young witch asked shyly.
The stern transfiguration mistress couldn't look her in the eyes.
"It's absurd, really. We knew there would be a death eater meeting not far from here and I wanted to spy on it. Albus practically begged me not to go in the storm. I was stubborn and had to stay for twenty-six hours in the cold, in order not to get caught. One of them saw me and I had to disapparate. This was the first place I had in mind."
The words came out as if she had lectured one of her students. Her voice strong and almost emotionless, and only her eyes betrayed her shame for not listening to the headmaster.
Hermione reached out and patted her mentor soothingly on the hand.
"I'm so glad you're here now, Professor."
"Please Hermione, I think you earned the right to call me Minerva," she said, taking the girls warm hand in her cold one.
The young woman blushed furiously. "I'm honoured Minerva. Is there anything I can do for you? Are you hungry? Can I bring you more tea?"
"No, my dear. I'm just so tired."
Hermione squeezed her mentors hand lightly, before she stood up "I'll let you sleep then. Have a good night and if you need anything, just call me."
Minerva smiled warmly at her. "Sleep well Hermione."
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When Hermione entered the bedroom an hour later to make sure everything was all right, she found her head of house still awake.
"Minerva, why are you not sleeping?" she asked concerned, as she walked over to the older woman.
"I can't. I'm so very exhausted but I don't fall asleep." Her voice sounded more desperate than Hermione had ever heard it. "I still feel cold."
The young woman knelt down and held the older woman's cold hand between her own. "Let my stay with you tonight. You can cuddle up against me and I will warm you. Body heat is matched by no fire after all."
The witches green eyes widened in surprise. "No, I don't think that…"
"Minerva," she was cut off, "this doesn't have to be awkward. I know your thoughts are as pure as mine, and you'll be able to sleep. It is as easy as that."
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A special thanks to artemissan09!!!