Well, I was working on a challenge I recently got, and this totally random idea came to mind and BOOM, all of two hours later this was the result. This is a bit lighter than my work has been of late - less angst, more humor. Hope you guys like it, even if it is only rated T. Now, I'm keeping this one marked as "In Progress", because it certainly has potential to grow, though I'm not promising an update to this one anytime soon. I've got too many other projects on the pile, but I did my best to not leave you 'hanging' here. It could technically be a oneshot, though I know you lot won't be happy with that. :P In your reviews, or PMs, feel free to shoot ideas on where you would like to see this plot go!

"Come on, Minerva," Celia Brown, current Potions mistress at Hogwarts pleaded. "I don't want to go to the opera on my own."

"You said tonight?" the Headmistress sighed. "In muggle London?"

"Yes, it's Phantom of the Opera, one of my all-time favorites," the thickly built, middle aged witch replied. "I think you'd enjoy it, honestly."

"What's it about?" Minerva inquired. She did enjoy music, though she couldn't say she was a huge fan of opera. That said, it had been some time since she had been out of the castle. Since she'd taken up the Head of Hogwarts position after the war ended, ten years ago, she'd seldom found time to go out on the town, as it were. Celia had joined the staff to replace Slughorn, and Minerva and the blond woman had become fast friends in the decade since.

"It's about a young chorus girl in an Opera House, who gets voice lessons from a mysterious man who resides in the theater. He, also known as the Phantom, has fallen in love with her, and becomes enraged when a childhood friend comes courting her – Christine is her name – and she returns the young man's, Raul's, affections."

"A love triangle then?" Minerva asked, finding herself intrigued by the plot.

"In a way," Celia replied, "though Christine has no feelings for the Phantom beyond the fact that she appreciates his tutelage. There's action a plenty – the Phantom is barking mad, and goes about murdering people in his effort to turn Christine into the star of the show."

"Alright, what time shall we leave?" Minerva sighed.

"The show starts at eight this evening, but I'd suggest we leave here at seven, so we can get good seats," the Potions professor answered. "And don't forget, muggles like dressing up fancy for operas, so something along the lines of that slinky black dress you wore at the last Ministry gala would be appropriate."

Minerva frowned. "Are you attempting to set me up again, Celia?"

The blond woman grinned. "No, not really, but if I am getting you out of this drafty castle, to go somewhere there would be hope of meeting a nice woman, then I will certainly endeavor to have you looking your best."

"I suppose you'll be wanting me to wear my hair down, too?" the other witch growled.

"Oh course," Celia chirped happily.

"Hermione, the show starts in half hour!"

The witch in question, who had not lived as a witch since the end of the wizarding war ten years prior, nodded curtly to her manager, Devon Barlow, as she pulled her dress on. Had anyone asked Hermione Granger, ten or fifteen years ago, if she would be making her living via singing, of all bloody things, she would have laughed in their faces.

Alas, the day after Voldemort's demise she'd found herself in a muggle karaoke bar, drunk off her arse and singing in front of a crowd of people. One of those people had been Devon, who approached her after she returned to the bar, asking if she would be interested in a job at the local Opera House. Hermione still had no idea what had possessed her to agree, but she had, and ten years later she was playing the lead role in a world renowned Opera – Phantom of the Opera.

She thought, in retrospect, that she may have accepted Devon's offer because she wanted to leave the wizarding world for a bit, though Merlin only knew how a bit had turned into the last decade of her life. The brightest witch of her age, as she'd been called, had disappeared. She had not been in contact with anyone from the Wizarding world since that night she ended up in the muggle bar…

"Places!" one of the stage hands called.

Hermione took a deep breath, and began walking toward the stage. If only Harry, Ron, and the rest could see her now.

XOXOX

Minerva and Celia had managed a pretty good seat at the Opera, partially due to a confundus charm. It was an hour into the show and Minerva was very focused on the woman playing the character of Christine. She looked…familiar. And Merlin, she had a beautiful voice.

"Do you know who plays Christine?" Minerva whispered.

Celia smiled. "Hermione something," she replied. "Can't recall her surname off the top of my head. Amazing, isn't she?"

The older witch's eyes widened as the pieces fell together. "Let me see your looking glass," she said.

Celia handed over the small binoculars, and Minerva focused them on the woman currently singing.

"All I want is freedom
A world with no more night
And you always beside me
To hold and to hide me…"

"Granger…" she whispered in shock.

"Granger?" Celia said, nodding. "Yes, that sounds right."

"Hermione Granger," Minerva muttered, eyes wide and heart beating wildly. It had been ten years since her former student had been seen or heard from. Most assumed she'd been captured and killed in the direct aftermath of the final battle of the war. Yet here she was…seemingly quite well…and singing like an angel. "What is she doing here?"

"You know her?" Celia asked, realizing that something was up.

"She was Harry Potter's best friend, during his Hogwarts days," she said. "She vanished, presumed dead, at the end of the war. Apparently not."

"Shall I get a hold of some backstage passes for after the show?" Celia asked seriously. "By your tone, it sounds like she was…special to you."

"She was special; a brilliant young woman," Minerva nodded. "I will respect if she chose to simply leave the wizarding world behind, but I'm concerned that her memory may have been affected…"

"I'll take care of it," Celia said. "You watch the rest of the show."

Celia got up and made her way towards the back of the room, and Minerva refocused her attention on the woman on the stage – whose disappearance had left more than a mystery to be solved, but a hole in her heart.

Hermione took a glass of champagne from the waiters tray, and put on a smile as she prepared to greet the holders of the back stage passes for this evening's show. The Opera liked to offer the most generous backers the opportunity to meet and greet the cast, and while Hermione knew it was good for the business, she hated these events. Alas, the show must go on, as they said.

"Miss Granger," a clipped, Scottish voice said from behind her.

The young woman froze on the spot; she would know that voice anywhere, anytime. It couldn't be, she thought, forcing herself to turn around.

Her glass dropped to the ground and shattered as she looked into the emerald eyes of her former Professor, Minerva McGonagall. Oh my god.

"Hermione?" the older woman asked tenderly.

"Shit," Hermione muttered. "How did you find me?"

Minerva offered a gentle smile. "Mere chance," she replied. "I was drafted into coming to the show by a co-worker, and was surprised to see the star of the show was my old star pupil."

"Please, don't tell anyone…" Hermione begged, terrified at the thought of her ten years of freedom coming to an end.

"On condition that you meet me for tea somewhere, and explain where you've been for the last ten years," her former mentor bargained.

"Fine," Hermione snapped, irritated. "When and where, Professor?"

"Does tomorrow, noon, at the coffee shop on Forth Avenue suit?" Minerva asked.

Hermione nodded. "Fine."

"Be there, or I will come hunting for you," the older witch, reassuming her teacher voice.

A bitter laugh escaped Hermione's lips. "Of that I have no doubt."

Minerva nodded, and then stepped forward and placed and hand on her former students cheek. "I have missed you, Hermione," she whispered, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Until tomorrow."

Hermione couldn't speak, and after Minerva McGonagall turned and left, she continued standing there, staring after the woman in the long black dress. Shock of seeing her former teacher was wearing off, and she took a moment to observe that the woman she'd always held in high regard looked absolutely stunning in the long, black dress she was wearing.

"Who was that?" Devon asked, coming over to her. "You obviously knew her."

"Just someone from my past," Hermione murmured.

"Were you and she…involved?" he asked, grinning.

Hermione glared at him. "Absolutely not! She was a teacher at the boarding school I went to."

"So you were undressing her with your eyes because…" the thin, spectacled man asked.

"She did look good, didn't she…" Hermione found herself agreeing aloud. "But even if I were interested, it wouldn't matter. She was my teacher, and a woman like her would never look at a former student like that, I assure you."

Devon huffed. "She would have ripped your dress off where you stood if there hadn't been so many people about," he scoffed. "Former teacher or no, she is seriously into you."

"I couldn't possibly…" Hermione groaned. "Devon, even if you're right, and she's interested, and if I were mutually attracted to her…it would never work. Not now. She exists in a world I left behind when I met you."

"The bit of your past that causes your nightmares?" Devon asked, changing his tune and looking concerned.

"Yes."

"She didn't hurt you or anything, did she?" he asked.

"No!" Hermione quickly said. "Minerva would never hurt me."

"Pretty name…"

"Drop it, Devon," she hissed.

"Fine," he shrugged. "At least until tomorrow after you have lunch with that stunning creature."

Bugger. Hermione thought. Why had she agreed to that?

Minerva arrived at the coffee shop at five till twelve the next day, and was pleased to see Hermione already waiting by the front door. The young woman was wearing a black pencil skirt and a flattering cream blouse, and stood there fingering her right arm. It only took Minerva a moment to realize that the young woman was concealing a wand holster under her sleeve. She was glad to see that Hermione had not snapped her wand.

"Prompt, as you always were," Minerva said in greeting.

The young woman eyed her warily. "Good afternoon, Professor."

"Please, call me Minerva," she requested. "It's been some time since I was your teacher, Hermione."

Hermione nodded, and the two made their way inside and found a table. After orders had been taken, Minerva got down to business. "So, what happened, Hermione? Where have you been? Why did you leave? Why have you been in contact with no one at all? Your parents don't even know what became of you…"

"You spoke to my parents?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"When you off and vanished right after the final battle," Minerva frowned, "You were presumed captured and killed. "I was Headmistress. Who did you think would have the duty of contacting your parents to inform them?"

Hermione lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want an apology. I want answers," Minerva said frankly.

"I needed some time away," she began. "I met Devon, my manager, the day after the battle in a muggle bar. He heard me singing and offered me a job."

"On that note," Minerva said with a gentle smile. "I had no idea you could sing. You're amazing."

Hermione blushed. "Thanks. Anyway, I thought I'd just lay low for a month or two, just till I got my bearings. I didn't really try to hide at that point, but when no one found me, no one came looking…I realized how simple it would be to vanish for the long term. So…I did."

"I understand the need for space," Minerva said quietly. "But to not tell anyone…not even Harry…gods, woman, do you know what you put him through? You're like a sister to him. You being gone…you were his only family left, so far as he was concerned."

Hermione frowned. "I know. I do feel bad about that…how is he, now?"

Minerva smirked. "He and Ginny Weasley are getting married next weekend, finally."

A bright smile graced Hermione's features for the first time since Minerva had arrived. "Wonderful. What about Ron? And Neville?"

The older witch smirked. "I'll probably get hell for telling you, but Ron and Neville are actually a couple. Ron had a bit of drinking problem after the war, and Neville helped him through it. It was less than a year after Ron got sober that they came out as a couple."

"You're kidding!" Hermione laughed. "Never would have seen that coming!"

Minerva nodded. "They are happy together, though. Neville is teaching at Hogwarts, Herbology of course, and Ron took over Care of Magical Creatures last spring when…when Hagrid passed away."

The mirth faded from Hermione's eyes in a rush. "Hagrid died?" she whispered. "Oh, god, what happened?"

"We don't know for sure. He went missing, and was found deep in the forbidden forest a week later," Minerva said sadly. "Or what the wildlife left of him. We are pretty certain it was an accident…you know how Hagrid was."

Hermione nodded, sniffling. "I've missed a lot, haven't I?"

"Yes," the older witch agreed. "Please…even if you aren't prepared to rejoin the wizarding world, come back for a bit and let those who love you know you're okay. Harry, especially. He would be over the moon if I showed up at his wedding with you."

"With me, huh?" Hermione smirked. "If I didn't know you, I'd think you'd just asked me on a date."

Minerva was startled, to say the least, at Hermione's comment. It didn't quite seem like the younger woman was flirting, but still, a comment like that… two can play that game, she mused. "Well, you don't really know me, Hermione," she said in a teasing tone. "I am more than just a professor."

Hermione blinked. "Wait…were you…I mean do you…I mean…what?"

Minerva decided to go slow. She didn't want to risk scaring Hermione away from the wizarding world once and for all. "Let's just say that you have not been my student for more than ten years, and how I interact with you now is different than I would have then. I always enjoyed your company, Hermione. I've missed you, all these years, and regretted not having the chance to build on the relationship we had."

"Okay," Hermione sighed. "I'll go. To Harry's wedding. With you."

"Wonderful," Minerva smiled.

"On one condition," the younger woman said firmly.

"Name it."

"You stick by me like glue," Hermione replied tensely. "I don't want to be ambushed by people excited to see a long forgotten war heroine. Not to be egotistical, but I know how the wizarding world sees me now. It's part of why I chose not to come back. I don't want that life."

"I understand," Minerva nodded. "And I will stand by your side the whole time."

Hermione almost jumped out of skin at the sound of Minerva apparating into her apartment, as they had agreed. Today was Harry's wedding. Today, Hermione would be stepping back into the wizarding world for the first time in ten years. She was terrified.

"Hermione?" Minerva called.

"Coming!" she replied, checking her appearance in the mirror one last time. She was wearing a classic looking gown; floor length, empire waist, and deep red. The fabric was flowing and comfortable, held in place by thin straps. Her hair hung loose down just past her shoulder blades, still cured but a bit more tame than it had been in her youth. She wore only light make-up; preferring as she always had to look natural.

She took a deep breath and stepped out into the living room where Minerva was waiting, and had to surpass a gasp when the older witch came into view. If Hermione had thought Minerva looked good the night she'd come to the Opera, she looked downright stunning now. She was wearing a rather form fitting, gold, mermaid styled gown which showed each and every one of her curves. Her…absolutely incredible curves. Holy shit…Hermione thought. "You look amazing," she whispered, unable to stop herself from commenting.

Minerva smiled. "As to you, my dear. Are you ready to go? As I said, we're going to be a bit early, so you and Harry can have a little bit of time before the other guests arrive. Ron and Neville will probably be there a bit early as well, but we'll be the first to arrive. I told Harry to expect me, and that I was bringing a wedding surprise."

Hermione nodded. "I'm as ready as I'm going to be for this. Though, if you don't mind…it's been ten years since I've apparated so…"

"I'll side along you," Minerva nodded. "I figured that would be the case…considering you don't know where Harry lives."

"Oh, right," Hermione stammered, blushing. "I'm an idiot."

"You're anything but," the older woman chastised. "You're simply nervous. If it makes you feel any better, I am as well. I may end up getting hexed for not warning him."

Hermione laughed a little. "Maybe."

Minerva slid her arm around Hermione's waist, a sensation that the younger woman decided that she was enjoying way too much for her own good, and seconds later, they vanished from the spot and reappeared in Godric's Hallow, in front of the once ruined Potter Manor. "You alright?" Minerva asked kindly.

"Yes, thank you, Minerva." Hermione replied. "The Manor…"

"Is the reason it's taken Harry this long to get married," Minerva huffed. "He absolutely refused to even propose to Ginny until it was rebuilt, and that took quite some time."

"Well, it looks great."

The front door to the manor suddenly opened, and the familiar, albeit more mature face of her friend came into view from the end of the walk where they were standing.

"Hey, Minerva!" Harry called, waving and walking forward to meet them." When you said you were bringing a surprise I wondered if you'd finally gotten yourself a girlfr…"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks half way to their position, as recognition dawned on him. After a moment, he continued toward them, though slowly. "Minerva…is that…?"

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said with a small smile.

"Look who I found in a muggle Opera House," Minerva said, grinning ear to ear.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, reaching out slowly, touching her cheek.

Hermione felt tears beginning to well up. "Bugger, I'm going to cry," she muttered. "Yes, Harry, it's me."

Seconds later Hermione was engulfed into the tightest hug she could ever remember receiving, and as soon as she'd regained her balance, she returned the hug with equal measure.

"I've missed you…so much," Harry whispered. "So, so much."

"Well I'm feeling a bit left out," Minerva's voice rang, teasing.

"Yea, we gotta go find Ginny," Harry said, letting Hermione go, and grinning broadly. "She's going to flip out."

"Oh boy," Hermione said with a groan. "Minerva, remember, you're my protection."

Harry laughed. "So, Minerva, have you told Hermione that you're in…"

"You shut your mouth Harry Potter!" Minerva snapped.

"…love with her yet?" he finished, ducking.

Hermione raised her eyebrow, and glanced over at the older witch, who was blushing furiously. "I'm going to kill you, Harry." The Scottish woman glared.

"No you're not!" Harry huffed, still grinning. "I owed you that for showing up here with NO WARNING, with my missing, presumed dead, best friend."

"Bugger," Minerva muttered. "I was expecting to be hexed."

"Haven't you figured out by now that I'm not predictable?" he chuckled. "Now, you two wander around the back to the garden, I'm going to go warn Ginny, and then we'll meet you there. Give you two a chance to…chat."

"Right," the elder of the two women replied, still blushing.

Hermione watched the exchange with amusement. She didn't remember Minerva being so…relaxed before. Granted, they were children then, and then there was the war. Death and promise of more death was a surefire way to make anyone uptight. This version of Minerva really was…attractive.

"So," she prompted, glancing over at her date. "Harry was saying…"

"I really don't know what to say," Minerva replied, shrugging. "Like I said last week. I missed you. I regretted not having a chance to…be more to you than a teacher. I would have been, or rather I would be content to be your friend, Hermione. But if there were a chance for more than that…well, Harry pretty much blew my cover so I might as well be honest…I'd like to be more."

"I can't deny that I'm attracted to you," Hermione admitted, "since you've been so honest and all…"

"Like I had a choice…" Minerva muttered under her breath.

"But I'm not the same person I was, ten years ago. The young woman you…fell in love with…died ten years ago," she tried to explain. "I would be interested in exploring if the current you is as interested in the current me as you were the girl you remember."

"I'd like that as well."

Minerva was trying hard to keep her laughter contained. Ginny's reaction to Hermione's appearance was borderline hostile – the soon to be Mrs. Potter had to be held back by Harry to prevent her from breaking Hermione's nose. She was, of course, thrilled to see her long missing friend, but she was also rather vexed that she'd been alive, all this time, and had not sent word.

Ron and Neville had just arrived, and while Neville was just grinning happily, Ron was standing there wide eyed, poking Hermione's shoulder, seemingly trying to be sure she wasn't a ghost.

"Ronald, you dolt," Hermione snapped finally. "You're going to bruise my arm!"

"Bloody hell…" he murmured. "Hermione…McG, where did you find her?"

"An Opera House, of all wild places," Minerva replied. "Singing quite beautifully."

"Wait," Harry said, putting his hands up. "When you said you found her at an Opera House, I thought you meant you ran into her there, not that she was…"

"Up on stage, the lead role in the show that Celia drug me to?"

"Yea…I didn't know you could sing, 'Mione," Harry muttered. "Wow. Good for you!"

"Yes, well," Hermione muttered. "I didn't really realize I could till my manager found me, drunk, singing karaoke."

"I'd love to see one of your shows sometime," Neville piped in. "I adore the Opera."

"I…" Ron said with a resigned sigh. "Have come to appreciate it as well."

Hermione laughed. "Neville's been a good influence on you, then?"

Ron looked awkwardly at the ground. "So, McG told you about me and Nev?"

"Yes she did," Hermione said with a smile. "I'm thrilled for you both."

"We never talked about queers back then," Ron said. "And I admit, I wondered over the years if you would have approved or not."

"Well, as Hermione's agreed to go on a date with Minerva," Harry said smugly. "She can't be entirely straight herself, so…"

"Harry!" Minerva snapped. "How did you hear our conversation. Our private conversation?"

The dark haired man grinned. "Robbie, of course."

"Robbie?" Hermione inquired.

"House elf," Harry explained. "Dobby's son, actually. As soon as he was old enough to leave his mum, he showed up here saying he'd promised Dobby that he'd serve Harry Potter sir!"

The group laughed; the first of many to come as the afternoon wore on.

The wedding went off without a hitch. Some of the guests had recognized Hermione, and a few had even attempted to approach, but one glare from the Headmistress of Hogwarts sent them all cowering back to their seats with the clear message to leave the young woman alone.

Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter were not headed off to their honeymoon, and Minerva was now escorting Hermione back to her London flat. "That was a long day," Hermione sighed, kicking off her shoes the minute they arrived.

"It was, but, worth it," Minerva nodded.

"I had a good time," the younger woman said, looking at her former professor intently. "It seemed…natural, to be by your side."

"Does that mean you'll agree to a second date?" Minerva asked, lips quirking upward.

Hermione laughed. This playful, flirty side of Minerva was fascinating to behold. This woman was nothing like the one she remembered…though she admitted internally that she had never really known Minerva McGonagall, the woman, when she'd been a student at Hogwarts. "Who said the first date was done?" she asked with a smirk.

The older woman's eyes sparkled. "Certainly not I," she replied.

"Care for a nightcap?" Hermione offered, indicating a cabinet with a variety of liquor, all muggle, a few feet away.

"That would be wonderful," Minerva replied. "Though I remember you being a fan of firewhisky, and I don't see any of that here."

Hermione laughed. "I've been living as a muggle. I keep my firewhiskly, which for the record is hard to obtain while staying under the radar, cleverly disguised with a charm. One of the few things I've used magic for in the last decade."

"I shudder to think about how rusty your dueling skills are by now, not that you'd need them these days," Minerva joked. "I shall have to loan you the last decade worth of Transfiguration Today to get you up to date on your favorite subject."

Hermione grinned, and pointed at a bookshelf full of what looked like muggle romance novels. With a wave of Hermione's hand, a charm dissolved and the romance novels were not wizarding magazines. "Transfiguration Today, Potions Weekly, Charms Monthly, Defense Chronicle, and Arithmacy Annual," she said. "Getting things from the wizarding world is difficult, but not impossible."

Minerva laughed. "Of course. Well then, what did you think of Draco Malfoy's paper on charming muggle cell phones, in the last edition of Charms Monthly?"

"Aside from the fact that I was stunned to see Malfoy working on ways to integrate muggle technology into the wizarding world?" the younger woman gaped. "It was brilliant!"

The two women talked about various things for the next couple of hours, while sitting on the couch together drinking firewhisky. Alcohol inspired or not, Hermione eventually realized that she and Minerva had been inching closer and closer together. Hermione had taken a minute to change into a pair of sweat pants and a tanktop, and Minerva had transfigured her dress into something similar.

"You know Hermione," Minerva said, "I don't think you've changed as much as you think in the last ten years. You are still the woman I remember, though I do understand your being wary to reenter the wizarding world."

"The garish light of day…" Hermione mused.

"What?" Minerva asked, confused.

"In Phantom of the Opera," the younger witch explained. "One of the songs, Music of the Night, there's a line that says 'turn your face away from the garish light of day'…I think that's what I've been doing. I got so used to living in darkness, during the war, and when it was over and I was supposed to feel happy about it…I just…well, I couldn't adjust. So I turned away from what I knew and continued living in hiding, in darkness."

"I did much the same thing after the war with Grindewald," Minerva admitted. "I'd even gotten engaged to a muggle man before Albus hunted me down and offered me the job at Hogwarts. I remember him telling me that it did not do, to dwell on the past. Perhaps a simple thing to say, but it hit me when he said it that I was being…well, a coward."

"You think that's what I have done?" Hermione asked quietly, saddened at the idea of being perceived as a coward in the eyes of the Head of Gryffindor House, the house of the brave. "Been a coward?"

Minerva paused, obviously trying to come up with a diplomatic answer. "I think your courage was spent on the war, and you needed time to lick your wounds, as it were. That said, now that you've taken a step back into your old life, going to the wedding today, I might consider you a coward if you simply vanished again after tonight."

Hermione sighed, mulling over what Minerva had said. She was right. It was time to stop hiding. If fact, after this long she should have an overabundance of courage to use…and her slightly intoxicated mind came up with a good idea on how to start being brave again.

So, she leaned forward and put her hand on Minerva's neck, pulling her into a kiss. It was soft, and sensual, but not lacking in hesitation on either of their parts. It just seemed…right. When they broke apart after a minute, Minerva blinking a few times, and licked her lips.

"I call you a bloody coward, and you kiss me," she mused. "You are an odd one, Hermione Granger."

"Well," Hermione blushed. "So few people have the nerve to tell me when I'm being an idiot. It's refreshing, and…sexy."

"So if I told you to stop being a baby and go up to the Ministry tomorrow to test for your Transfiguration Mastery so I can somehow talk you into filling my open teaching post this fall?" Minerva inquired.

"Well, for that kind of comment, I might ask you to stay the night," Hermione smiled. Teaching at Hogwarts had been her dream, back then. She loved singing, but it wasn't what she wanted out of life. It was a hobby, that's all. And for the last season of her life, it had suited well enough to pay her bills. Now, however, she was entering a new season, with Minerva, it seemed.

"Well, I know Harry already said it for me, but this appears to be the appropriate time to admit that I love you," Minerva murmured, caressing the younger woman's cheek.

"I think it's a bit soon to return that feeling," Hermione whispered, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to Minerva's lips. "But I think I'm headed in that direction."

"Good," Minerva smiled, pulling the younger woman into a tight embrace. "As I don't think I could handle loosing you again."

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