Author's Note:

Yes, I know that this chapter is the same as the other story, but I had a little cough trouble starting out. Plz R&R

Fond Memories-

Minerva is sitting at her desk, slowly, gracefully writing in her red journal, the one with the Griffindor seal upon the cover. It had been a gift to her, from her father when she was little. With the snow out side, she has nothing to do, yet.

Dear one who only knows secrets,

I can truly say I have not lived my life fully. I can see the snow on the castle's grounds melting away into spring, like the life I have lived turning to sorrow instead of joy. The students should be arriving soon, back from their holidays, as I have none. Every second I spend looking at him is a second not wasted on the day's duties and consent seconds of grading the transformation of a cup into a bird or a coin into a pin. Accurately, I can remember the day Severus confessed his eternal love for me. What a fool he was, and is. Laughing, I can truly say, I just wasn't his type. But after sixty years, give or take a few, pure torture is enough. Only the greatest wizard in our time is the one man who will ever hold my heart...My father had always loved me. Even after death I loved him. He with his Scottish accent, much like I have... when I am alone. I have shone no one my true feelings. How I deeply loved my father, and how I truly love one other man, but only one other.

This weather reminds me of the one I love. Warm winter fires on cold nights, and the white, white oh the whites of the hills in snow. The luscious wet fluffy snow that every winter envelops this land on which I live day in and day out. This land on which I work, the land on which I teach, the land on which I love. Our people, the magical kind, have always known about the witchcraft that goes on around here. The spells, the potions, the unusual things of the whole lot. The mess we teachers get ourselves into each and every year.

With the newest bunch, the Trio, as they are now called,- they give us so much paperwork. I love my little lions so much though. I could never speak ill of them, never. Harry is true to Gryffindor, as he is the bravest of his kind. Hermione is the wittiest of her day, a Ravenclaw almost, but as solid as rock, another lion accurately put into my house. Ron, another Weasley but always could play a great chess match. How I miss my youth...
The woman stopped to catch her breath for only a moment when she noticed a student, Hermione Granger, who obviously had been standing there for the longest time. Minerva was practically stunned. She hoped the young girl hadn't been reading what she had written, but she had.

"I-um..."

"Please Miss Granger, what might I help you with that is so important that you had to come all the way into my personal office?" With a hint of frustration, Minerva closed the book.

"I wanted to see you before I left for the Christmas holidays."

"Of course." She smiled slightly before allowing her to come behind her desk. A small hug made the older woman cry. To Hermione, she had never seen the professor even give the simplest expression and now crying; she was astonished.

"I'm sorry professor." Hermione said crying herself, "My-I got a letter today. M-My p-parents, their...dead." A now sobbing child wept upon her dear loving Transfiguration teacher.

"Hermione, I don't know what to do. Do you have anyone to go to? Anyone at all?"

Stated simply, "No." was the answer.

"Where would you like to stay? I'm sure we can arrange for you to be with Mr. Weasley, his parents are quite nice, and you could..." Minerva stopped her inquisition. Hermione was obviously staring into space and not paying attention to what her teacher had suggested.

"What do you want to do?" Minerva asked.

A day later, Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room awaiting instructions from the headmaster, the one and only Albus Dumbuldore. As she waited, the young girl began to cry. Slowly at first, then massive tears came rolling down her cheeks. No Gryffindor had been left in the common room, no one, but her. A few moments later she wiped her eyes clean off the sadness left behind. Hermione sat, starring out of the gigantic window, looking at the castle grounds.

'This, will be my last time to see the lake, to see the clouds hovering above, to see, to see everything. With my parents' death, I won't be able to come home, here, to this place where I belong. I-I won't be able to come here, again.'

She broke into quiet sobs, leaving the sorrow to take full effect. Someone standing behind her put his or her arms around the poor girl. Comforting, loving, arms indeed.

"Shhh, lassie, I am here now." An older woman quietly spoke with reassuring words in a very Scottish accent. They sat down, holding each other in an unbreakable bond like a mother and daughter.