Author's Note: I have been reading HG/MM fan fiction for several months now and have been delighted with the variety of stories. They have inspired me to try my hand at putting something out there. This is my first story. Please let me know what you think and if more chapters are wanted.
"Madam McGregor's proposal was impressive and ambitious," thought Minerva as she traversed the walkways that once carried her to her mastery courses. "The governors should be well-pleased and easily convinced to begin the fundraising campaign. Especially if I offer Hogwarts as a host for one of the benefits." Minerva's thoughts continued as she made her way to the library wing. "The expansion of the library will alleviate the Ministry's overflowing archives."
As she got closer to the famous Dulamain Library, Minerva could smell the bindings of the ancient texts mingling with the crisp scent of the newer publications, and paused to inhale the familiar fragrance. The headmistress would never grow out of the excitement she felt when walking into a library of any kind; however, she blinked, and sniffed again. There was another distinct and familiar scent picked up by her animagus senses. "It can't be," she whispered with confusion.
With a swiftness that surprised many of the students lingering in the stone archways of classroom doors, Minerva practically raced to the entrance of the library. There she stopped abruptly in her tracks raising her hand to cover the gasp that escaped her.
Minerva was shocked at the sight of her former protégé in the library of her alma mater: The Royal Scottish Academy of Mastery in Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Why didn't Ms. Granger inform me of her matriculation? Who wrote her recommendation?" The multitude of questions swirling in her head belied Minerva's true feeling for her fellow Gryffindor. She quickly recovered her wits, took a moment to smooth the shock and hurt from her expression and began approaching the library table. Minerva kept her gait steady, but she couldn't deny how much her attraction had grown for her former charge. Obviously out of sight was not out of mind.
Hermione didn't notice Minerva as she revised for final exams. Wandlessly summoning yet another set of notes from her bag, the young witch double checked her translation of the ancient rune. "It definitely seems Celtic in origin," she mumbled to herself. Inhaling deeply with frustration, she scratched out one of the more implausible theories. "Dougain is a fool, how did he ever get such rubbish published? This theory is easily disproved by Minerva's research." These quiet mutterings were typical of the enthusiastic scholar, and she was completely absorbed in her studies.
Her focus began wavering when she heard a familiar voice. "Merlin, Hermione, get it together," she thought. While the there were plenty of international students studying at RSA, the Scottish students' accent often caught Hermione's attention. It had only been within the last week that she had been able to gain control over the urge to wheel her head around expectantly at the sound. Today was no different, and she continued to ignore the all too common pull in her stomach. It was impossible for Hermione not to think of her former Transfiguration professor as she was seeking her 2nd level mastery in the same field. It was especially difficult when there were so many damn Scottish witches and wizards around her.
"I should have accepted DeLauder's offer..." While Hermione allowed herself to momentarily think it, she knew that she would never have seriously considered the French master's offer to apprentice with him at Beauxbatons. The Royal Scottish Academy was the most prestigious Transfiguration academy in the world. It would have been ridiculous to turn down a full research scholarship.
Hermione was torn from her musings by the clipped sound of boots on the hardwood and a flash of emerald. She involuntarily jerked her gaze up and her breath hitched...
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger. May I join you?"