This can be considered a continuation of my previous stories, though it is not necessary to have read those before this one.
For owlofathena and her persistence.
Hermione Granger and Minerva McGonagall sat across from each other in a dimly lit and quiet room, the only source of light spilling from the nearby fireplace. Someone had opened the windows that overlooked the teachers' gardens to let in the cool fall breeze but the new moon provided no light. The hour was late and the two witches had clearly been working alone for quite some time. Both had removed their outer robes and the Headmistress had rolled up the sleeves of her red oxford shirt. The older witch looked relaxed but composed, sitting upright in her favorite armchair in her study with slender legs crossed while the younger sat stiff and on the very edge of a small settee, knees together, left hand clutching her outer thigh, her eyes closed and brow furrowed in concentration.
The fire popped loudly but neither witch seemed to notice. Minerva watched Hermione intensely as a small glass orb hovered at a fixed point over the low table between them. An unknown liquid swirled slowly inside, shimmering and seemingly defying the laws of nature. Hermione held her wand up and pointed at the orb, her wrist twitching and rolling as she murmured under her breath. The moment was tense as they approached the crucial point in their work for the night. Minerva leaned forward in anticipation as Hermione's spellwork sped up and the liquid in the orb froze briefly before settling to the bottom, no longer moving.
Minerva closed her eyes and dipped her head slightly to collect herself as a drop of sweat ran down Hermione's temple from her hairline. She raised her hand and caught the orb as is flew toward her, busying herself to hide her own disappointment at another failed attempt for all the work her protégé had put in. Hermione slumped back into the cushions and let out a deep sigh. Her chest felt tight from holding her breath and her throat was closing up around the tears of frustration she tried to hold back.
"I'll never pass," she croaked.
Minerva set the orb into its box on the table and looked up at Hermione with a piercing gaze through her wire frame glasses. "You will pass, dear. You were much closer this time but you still aren't fully clearing your mind."
Hermione shook her head and sat up, reaching for and opening a leather-bound notebook. Spreading it across her lap she began to scribble notes with a quill she had pulled from between the yellowing pages. "I've been running through the drills again and again," she said without looking up and furiously flipping for a missing page, "…and I still don't understand."
Minerva knew that the young woman was not use to having this much difficulty learning a spell and could tell she was becoming frustrated. When Hermione reached this level of stress, it was best to remain silent. Minerva watched Hermione write while lost in her own thoughts, not realizing that she was staring unseeingly into the hazel eyes before her.
Experience told Hermione that the raven-haired woman was mulling over the lack of progress made that day by reviewing the past hours of work in her mind. Her Transfiguration mistress had a sharp memory and could recall incorrect hand motions months later. It was infuriating but enlightening as well and explained the success of her most dedicated students. Still, the scrutiny was unsettling and Hermione tried not to flush under Minerva's gaze. Finishing her annotations and enjoying how her tight but neat letters looked next to Minerva's flowing script in the workbook from decades ago when her mistress had been apprenticed to Albus Dumbledore, she looked up and took the opportunity to run her eyes over her professor's face as they sat in silence. It was so rare that Hermione had the chance to observe the older witch without her noticing that she greedily stared at the relaxed features before her. Her hungry eyes darted from long dark eyelashes to elegant cheekbones slightly red from the warm fire. Trying to suppress her thoughts of how she could cause those cheeks to flush a similar shade if given the chance she looked into Minerva's unfocused green eyes, seeking out the familiar flecks of yellow before moving to the slight creases at their outer corners that she adored and finally settling on dusky rose lips quirked in thought. Hermione clutched her quill tightly, not caring about the ink she was smearing on her littlest finger, remembering the few other times she had had the chance to stare at those lips, mostly when the beautiful woman they belonged to was wrapped up in conversation with someone else. At those times Minerva's lips were pursed in anger or frustration. This time they were relaxed and revealed their softness. Hermione finally did blush as she imagined said woman coming closer, settling a hand on her lower back as she brushed those lips along the skin of her shoulder, following an unseen trail up her neck and across her jaw to capture her own…
"When I was at a similar stage as you are now I had a difficult time separating Emslie's transfiguratory practices in changes of states from the meditation necessary to achieve an animagus form." Hermione jumped as the attractive features she had been intensely focused on suddenly began to move. Her eyes flicked up to Minerva's own and, realizing that her mentor was expecting a response and that she had not been caught staring (Thank goodness), she scrambled to respond but found it difficult to engage intellectually.
"In what way?" Hermione asked, tilting her head in a manner reminiscent of her animal counterpart when trying to solve a puzzle, a recently acquired trait that Minerva found incredibly endearing. Minerva shifted her weight forward, bringing her elbows to her knees and folded hands beneath her chin as she leaned closer.
"When clearing your mind try not to focus so much on emptying it of every thought. You aren't trying to find and listen to an inner consciousness that has always been there but-"
"-but a point of dense nothingness," Hermione finished, clearly quoting from a source that she had poured over again and again. "Because that makes complete sense."
Minerva quirked an eyebrow in response to the look of exasperation on Hermione's face and the nearly imperceptible roll of her eyes upwards. "If it did it would not take scholars years to achieve." She reached across the space between them to gently brush the tips of her fingers on the hand Hermione had resting on top of her notebook, still clenched around her quill. She dropped her voice to gently admonish, "We've only been at this task for the past month."
Hermione sighed and let her eyes drop down to the minimal yet sensuous contact between them, enjoying how Minerva's fingers just barely moved to stroke her hand, an action that the older witch clearly was not aware of or she would have pulled away already. Hermione's voice cracked as she admitted to an observation she had yet to voice aloud, even to herself.
"I feel as if I'm hitting a wall. I've made so little progress..." She leaned back into the cushions again, breaking contact with Minerva and closing her eyes to block out her mentor's response. Minerva jerked her hand back as if burned, Hermione's movement making her realize just how long she had been gently touching and caressing the witch next to her. She cleared her throat to gather herself though Hermione hardly noticed she was so wrapped up in keeping her composure. At that moment Minerva realized how tired the other witch looked and how long they had been sitting before the fire. She glanced at the clock on the mantle and raised her eyebrows in surprise. How was it already past midnight?
"Maybe it is time for a break." So that we can both collect ourselves… "Tea?"
Hermione hummed in agreement though her eyes remained closed and she did not move. "I suppose so."
Minerva stood and made her way over to the small table before the windows. When she was too busy or up too early to make it to the Great Hall for breakfast in the mornings it was her favorite place to rest and enjoy her tea. At night it was her preferred spot for spending time with Hermione, personal or professional, but she felt that it would be easier to bring the beverage to the younger witch than trying to convince her to move in this state. She continued talking as she busied herself with preparing two cups from the pot brought by her house elf hours before and kept warm by magic.
"You've been at it for a while, Hermione. If you keeping pushing yourself too far and tiring yourself out then you will accomplish nothing tonight." Minerva picked up two cups and turned to walk back to the seating area. She handed one to Hermione who nodded her thanks before cradling the cup in both hands. Minerva hesitated briefly before sitting gingerly on the settee to Hermione's right, leaving a calculated distance that was close enough for their knees to occasionally brush while far enough away for any touch to be written off as an accident.
Hermione felt the hairs on her arms stand up in response to the closeness but continued to blow on the liquid in her cup while staring into the fire. She knew that if she acknowledged Minerva's proximity the latter would move across the room or find a way to end their lessons for the night. Earlier in the week she had unintentionally managed to lure the Headmistress close by needing help with the physical movement of a spell. By the time Hermione could smell the older woman's shampoo and felt elegant yet strong hands settle on her hips, Minerva was behind her desk and dismissing her apprentice for "urgent business" she had just remembered. Driving Minerva away was the last thing she wanted in this moment and so Hermione drank in what little physical comfort Minerva was willing to give.
Minerva shifted to set her cup on the low table before them before turning to Hermione. She waited for her young protégé to turn toward her before voicing the observations she had made earlier.
"I think you're too focused on your posture and it is distracting you."
"You said to sit upright."
Minerva quirked her eyebrow. "Upright, not stiff as if you've been petrified." Hermione dipped her head to hide a smirk in response to her mentor's quip. Minerva stood and bent over to remove the cup of tea from Hermione's hands, letting her fingers briefly skim those clutching at the cup.
"Let's try again for the last time tonight." Hermione shifted to the edge of the settee as Minerva moved to stand behind her.
"I'm going to help you through the exercise this time. Just try to relax and focus on the incantation instead of me." Hermione nodded nervously but with determination. She raised her wand, elbow bent slightly. A bare arm reached around from behind her, briefly correcting her wrist before disappearing again.
"Keep your wrist relaxed and your shoulders back and down. Your posture should be straight but preserve the natural curve of your spine." Hermione adjusted her shoulders in response.
"Good, now begin your breathing exercises and focus."
Hermione closed her eyes as the orb levitated off its stand and began to cycle her breath in through her nose and out through her slightly parted lips. She continued this for a moment before opening her eyes to locate the object before her, adjusting her wand and beginning the incantation silently. She jumped but did not stop as Minerva's hands slid along the sides of her jaw.
"Relax…" Minerva drew out the word and her breath slowly, feeling Hermione unclench her jaw and settle before her. The older witch gently brushed loose strands of hair out of the younger woman's eyes and behind her ears as she drew her hands away. Minerva shifted her focus to the orb before them as the liquid began swirling once more. Hermione quietly started to speak the spell aloud. Once again the liquid froze but, instead of falling to the bottom of the orb like before, slowly thickened and solidified before fracturing and becoming crystalline in structure. Neither witched moved but Minerva's eyes brightened as Hermione successfully completed the exercise in reverse. The younger witch dropped her arm and turned to look at the woman behind her, letting a slight smile grace her lips at her success.
Minerva rested her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Well done, dearest."
Hermione adverted her eyes and turned forward again. While not unwelcome, the constant touches from the alluring woman next to her were wearing away at her ability to hide her feelings. "Thank you," she said quietly.
Minerva moved around the settee to the table to retrieve her cup of tea. Hermione's eyes widened as the witch bent over in front of her, the gray slacks pulling nicely along muscular thighs and a delicious backside. She has no idea what she does to me.
"What did you do different this time?" Minerva asked as she righted herself and turned. "What was your point of nothing?"
Hermione blushed a deep red and Minerva tilted her head in curiosity. The younger witch felt caught and compelled to speak the truth. "Y-your touch on my face," she said softly, stumbling over the words as if the witch was charming them out of her. Taking a deep breath before locking eyes with the stunned woman standing so close, she tried to push the words out confidently. "It allowed me to clear my mind instead of focusing on my previous failures and I find your touch to be… so… centering."
Minerva felt her heart flutter and chest catch at the swirling feelings in Hermione's eyes that she herself did not feel confident enough to acknowledge. But, if she were to admit the truth, there was something about this moment that was forcing her to abandon her long list of reasons to ignore those feelings.
"…Hermione… please don't."
The younger woman stood up from the settee, sliding her wand into a hidden pocket. "You know I've been dealing with all these… frustrations recently. I can't focus!" Hermione exhaled forcibly and ran her fingers through already wild curls. "My work is suffering. I read the same chapter three times this week and retained nothing." She took a step closer to Minerva, who clutched her cup of tea defensively. Hermione spoke softly this time, "Please… Minerva…"
The headmistress shook her head and set her cup back on the table, turning slightly away from the younger witch and folding her arms across her chest. "What would you have me say, Hermione?" she asked quietly.
Hermione stepped closer again, leaving just as much space between them as Minerva had earlier – close enough to touch but not quite. She knew from Minerva's sharp inhale that the woman could feel her magic and smell her just as she could. Hermione let the back of her hand brush against Minerva's hip and received a tremble in response.
"I just need to know if you feel the same."
"Frustrated?"
Hermione frowned slightly at the sarcastic tone but her hope was buoyed by Minerva's continued closeness, though the woman still would not look at her. Her profile only provided a glimpse of carefully guarded features as they gazed out the window.
The younger woman let her fingers trail up from Minerva's hip, along her waist and up to her shoulder. "We've ignored this for so long. Remember last summer?"
Of course she did, Minerva thought as she tried to not think about but truly enjoyed the warmth and weight of the woman's hand on her. Hermione had practically thrown herself at Minerva when she had agreed to let the new graduate apprentice under her in transfiguration. By that point the older witch had already been watching the brown haired beauty for too long. For longer than I care to admit.
"Of course I do," Minerva replied honestly and softly. "There has always been a… tension between us since after the war."
Hermione stepped around to stand in front of Minerva, forcing the women to look at her. Despite the height difference between them she could see the caring within the emerald eyes she searched.
"Why do you think that is? Why not before?"
Minerva felt the truth pulled from her as if veritaserum had been slipped into her tea though she knew it was because of the warmth she saw in hazel eyes and the innocence of the question. "You left Hogwarts with Potter and Weasley a young girl, a bright student. When you came back and the battle was over you were no longer either but instead a strong woman with a brilliant mind who had come into her own."
Minerva raised her hand to brush her fingers along Hermione's jaw. The young witch let her eyes flutter but not close, not wanting to miss the moment. Minerva hesitated before adding so quietly Hermione had to strain to hear her, "You are increasingly hard to resist for all those reasons and more."
Hermione's breath quickened. The headmistress had never been so forward with her before and she could feel herself becoming lightheaded and reckless between her adrenaline and Minerva's touch.
"You still did not answer the first part of my question." When Minerva tilted her head in question Hermione continued, "Why is there tension between us?"
Minerva lifted a delicate eyebrow. "I think you know why, Hermione."
The younger witch nodded. "Then why continue like this? Why not give in?" Her gaze flicked down to rose lips and back up to emerald eyes. "Why not end this frustration?"
Minerva licked her lips as Hermione leaned incrementally closer, causing her heart rate speed up. "I can think of a myriad of reasons, dearest."
"And what if I don't care?" Hermione let her hands settle on Minerva's waist. "As you said, I'm a strong woman and strong women tend to know their own minds, let alone their feelings."
Minerva felt her resolve soften at Hermione's words and did not resist as she was pulled closer, their thighs brushing against each other. The older witch let her hands trail up the arms holding her as she dipped her head. "And what feelings are those?"
"Love…" Hermione murmured as their lips finally met and slid slowly across each other. As they kissed the two women moved closer, their bodies flush. Their hands explored each other gently as they released a year's worth of pent up emotions in a single moment. Leaning back slightly, Minerva smiled gently at the flushed look on Hermione's face.
"And here I thought you'd say frustration."
Hermione laughed gently, leaning in to once again capture smiling lips with her own.
End