Disclaimer: The books belong to J.K. Rowling, I own nothing.

The title is taken from the "Comment" by Dorothy Parker

AN: This story is set in book six. Some of the events will be the same and some I may tweak so they work with my story. This is a Minerva/Hermione story so if that's not your thing, just don't read it.

The sunlight danced through the curtains, landing softly on Hermione Granger's eyelids. She stretched, eyes fluttering open. Rolling over, she gently bumped into her bed partner.

"Honey, wake up," Hermione whispered, placing a kiss on her lover's lips.

Hermione smiled as said lover woke up with a purr and a grin.

"You could do that again."

Hermione obliged her lover, leaning over and meshing their mouths together – softly at first then slowly increasing in passion, tongues exploring the contours of mouths, hands getting tangled in hair. Reluctantly, the two broke for air. Hermione sighed contently. She leaned her head against her lover of five years' chest, intertwining their fingers.

"You have gorgeous hands," Hermione said.

She was met with laughter – deep and throaty, and a kis on her neck, just above her collarbone.

"If you keep that up, we may never get out of bed."

"Your point?" the kisses continued along her shoulder.

"Minerva!" Hermione laughed.

Minerva McGonagall wrapped her arms tighter around her young lover. "I love you 'Mione."

"I love you too Min."

They sat in comfortable silence until the sound of Celestina Warbeck came from the radio.

Hermione groaned, "I have to get up."

Minerva kept her in a death grip, "No you don't."

"Min, really, it wouldn't do for the Headmistress and her Deputy to not show up for breakfast in the Great Hall."

"I suppose you're right."

"I usually am!" Hermione smirked. She got out of bed and began walking towards the bathroom. Celestina's voice continued to croon. It was joined by the off-key warbling of Lavender Brown.

Hermione sat straight up in bed. That dream was… heavenly – no, odd, strange, completely inappropriate. Hermione mentally scolded herself.

Studpid girl, dreaming about your Transfigurations professor and mentor – oh my, that doesn't mean I'm a les – does it? No, of course not, it's just my subconscious reacting to lack of sleep. Hermione shook her head trying to clear it. What she needed was a hot shower. Perhaps the steam would clear her head.

An hour later, Hermione sat with Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table. The boys, between shoveling fistfuls of food into their mouths, were making up answers to their Divination homework.

"Honestly, I don't understand why the two of you are still taking that class. It's a load of rubbish. You should have taken Arithmancy instead, there's an actual, worthwhile point to it!"

"YoudswandlatMagowmall," Ron muttered.

"Pardon?" Hermione snipped.

Ron swallowed, "You sound like McGonagall." Normally Hermione would have glowed at being compared (however snidely) to her favorite teacher, but today it only served to remind her of her dream… Hermione glanced toward the Head table and immediately whipped back around, her face burning red.

"Hey, 'Mione, you alright?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, fine, um… I have to go… library," Hermione all but ran out of the room.

"Library? We've only been in classes three days, how can she already need the library?" Ron asked.

"I don't know mate, but that's Hermione for you," Harry replied.

Hermione didn't go to the library right away. Instead she wandered the empty halls thinking about her dream. What did it mean? Hermione hated the feeling of not understanding something and she didn't understand this at all. Did she have an infatuation with McGonagall? No – that was ridiculous, she admired the Deputy Headmistress, she didn't like her – not in the way her dream suggested. Besides, Hermione wasn't gay. She liked men, after all there was Victor in her fourth year and currently there was…there was… There had to be some guy she liked! Alright, so what if there was no one she had a crush on at the moment, that was normal, it happened to everybody.

Hermione pushed open the front doors. The sunlight danced on the lake reminded her of the curtains and Minerva's hands and those lips on her neck and –

"No!" Hermione cried. She sat down heavily and pulled her knees up to her chin. Oh my, what if I am a lesbian?

She sat there for another minute, then she got up and began walking toward the library, perhaps being around books would help her clear her head.

For the first time in Hermione's life, the library failed her. There appeared to be no solution to her problem. Sighing, Hermione gathered up her bag and books. She pushed her dream out of her head, it would have to be dealt with later, and with that, she rushed of to N.E.W.T. Ancient Runes.