I had an idea to do a fic in which Minerva was the one struggling with the after effects of the war, and Hermione bring her around. This, after a very slow day at work, was what came out of my keyboard.

1997

She felt sick. And tired; so, so tired. Bodies littered the grounds of Hogwarts, and the stench of burning flesh was bringing Minerva McGonagall to a fork on memory lane which she had long since walked. The early seventies had been full of many good times, and her fair share bad choices. Minerva found herself remembering with fondness the feeling of being alert, excited, and fearless, and was suddenly overcome with an overwhelming desire to feel that way again.

Just once more down the rabbit hole, she told herself as she walked to her quarters. It all seemed very logical at that moment; she need burst of energy to get through the rest of the night. Harry was back at Hogwarts, and he needed her to hold Voldemort's forces at bay for just a while longer. Hell, chances were she wouldn't live out the night so what did this matter for anyhow? No one would know. Her high would be mistaken as battle lust, and Merlin knew her reflexes were at their best when she did this...

Minerva pulled a small stone out of the wall in her quarters, which accessed a small, hidden cubby a few inches to the left. The small hiding place had not been touched in more than twenty years. Dust surrounding a small, plastic bag that lay there, forgotten till this moment. She silently removed the stasis charm which had preserved the contents of the bag for all this time, and slowly leaned forward and inhaled deeply.

Small particles of the powdery contents filled her nasal passage, and a few seconds later, she felt a buzzing in her head; light, invigorating, and just as addictive as she recalled. With a sigh of resignation, she reached back into the cubby and pulled out a short straw, and a muggle bank card which accessed an account under her over her assumed names; a name she had not used in decades.

A few minutes later, Minerva sat back in an arm chair, feeling every beat of her pulse as energy flooded her system. She sniffed, no longer feeling the need to break down crying. After putting the contents of the cubby back in their hiding place, she shook her head, and walked back towards the battle, head held high.

2000

Hermione Granger looked at her watch again, frowning. She was set to meet her former Professor and present friend for tea...half hour ago. It was decidedly unlike Minerva to be late. She felt silly for being worried that some harm had come to the older witch; the war had been over for three years now. That said, concern flooded her veins as the minutes continued to pass. After waiting an additional half hour, Hermione paid for her drink and walked towards the fireplace of the Leaky Couldren. "Hogwarts, Room of Requirement!" she said clearly, as she three a handful of floo powder into the flames, and stepped forward.

Accessing Hogwarts by floo and without permission from someone on the inside was not something just anyone could do, but Minerva had years before told her the secret of how. Only someone who had previously been in the Room of Requirement could get in this way, and a series of portraits, that of the four founders, had to grant you access to leave the Room itself once you were there.

"Good afternoon Godric, Helga, Rowena, Salazar," Hermione greeted.

"Thank Merlin you've arrived!" Godric said frantically. "Go to Minerva, now! Her quarters!"

Hermione didn't even question the portrait of her house's founder, bolting out the door of the Room of Requirement and toward the Head of Hogwarts' personal rooms. A quickly uttered password allowed her access, and she rushed in, eyes scanning the room quickly until she saw Minerva crumpled on the ground near her favorite armchair.

"Minerva!" she screamed, rushing over.

The older witch was out cold, but alive. On the ground beside her was a TV tray which had been knocked over, and a white pile of powder lay partially ground into the plush carpet. Hermione was confused about the powder at first, until she saw a small straw laying a little further away.

"You didn't..." Hermione muttered, grabbing Minerva's face and tilting her chin up, allowing her to exam the older witch's nostrils. White dust coated the left side of her nose, and Hermione's heart nearly stopped in shock.

"You stupid, stupid, stupid woman!" she shouted, gathering the Headmistress into her arms.

Hermione was surprised at how light Minerva was. Her robes, which she was currently only wearing the undermost later of, normally covered this pathetically frail form. Fighting away the disappointment, anger, and fear, she accessed Minerva's private floo and took them both directly to the infirmary.

"Poppy!" she shouted, laying Minerva on the nearest bed.

"What happened?" the Hogwarts Matron asked with a worried look.

"Cocaine overdose," Hermione muttered, still shocked at the implications. How had she not known?

"WHUT?!" Poppy yelped.

Minerva woke feeling like she'd been hit by the Knight Bus. "Damnit," she uttered.

"Awake, are we?" she heard Poppy's voice say...loudly.

"Not so loud," she whispered. "What are you doing in my room, Poppy?"

"Your room?" her friend's voice exclaimed, indignant. "Open your eyes, you little shite. You're in the Hospital Wing, and have been since Granger brought you here eleven hours ago."

Minerva's eyes snapped open. "Whut?" she asked slowly. "How? Why?"

"How long have you been an addict, Minerva?" Poppy demanded, ignoring her boss's questions.

"Addict?"

"Addict. As in addicted to. As in cocaine of all stupid bloody things!" Poppy snapped. "How could you, Minerva McGonagall?"

"Oh..." Minerva said miserably. "That."

"You nearly died yesterday!" Poppy continued to rant. "I can't believe you would..."

"Enough, Poppy," Hermione Granger's voice spoke softly. "Let it be."

Minerva turned to see the young woman who had, by the sounds of it, found her, presumably unconscious, the day prior."What are you doing here?" she asked dumbly, smiling a little. She liked Hermione. She liked Hermione a lot, actually. More than she ought to, as it happened. Still, she didn't really fancy her former student seeing her here, like this. God, her hair was probably a mess...

"I've been here since yesterday," Hermione replied curtly. "When you missed our tea date, I was concerned and came to Hogwarts via the Founder's entrance. Godric alerted me at once that something was wrong with you, at witch point I found you, overdosed on cocaine in your quarters. I brought you here, and have been here since, save a few times to step out and use the restroom."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Minerva uttered, feeling ashamed.

"Don't apologize," the young woman stated firmly. "Just promise me that you will do what it takes to get clean."

"I can't," Minerva whimpered, thinking of each time over the last three years that she'd tried to go more than a day or two without a fix. She'd rather be under the Cruciatus Curse.

"You've never come up against anything you couldn't beat," Hermione pressed, anger lacing her tone, "and you have gotten clean before. I had a nice chat with your friend Marcus while you were out. I also made it clear to him that should he come near you with a three meter pole, I will make his life as miserable as possible.

Minerva gulped. "It seems I have lost certain liberties regarding my own life."

"Yes," Poppy huffled. "As you have not updated your living will since Albus passed, I assigned a person to have control of your medical decisions and personal property until you are fit to resume your role in society. Effective nine hours ago, Hermione Granger is in charge of your life. She has assigned Filius as temporary Headmaster, as you have taken an extended leave of absence due to a personal emergency. You will be removed to your Manor, under Hermione's care, later this evening. I don't want you here when the withdraw really hits."

"Is that so," Minerva said coldly, decided less fond of Hermione than she had been a minute before. And Poppy, damn that witch! "Exactly who do you think you are, to take my rights away?"

"Your long time medical professional," Poppy stated firmly, "and a remarkable young woman willing to put aside her own life for the next few weeks in order to see you through this. Honestly Minerva, how the bloody hell did you get it in your head that COCAINE was a good idea?!"

"Poppy..." Hermione said warningly.

"As you say," Poppy muttered. While Poppy had given her the power, Hermione now had power over the Hogwarts matron. She was, in essence, Minerva's legal gaurdian until Minerva proved she was of sound mind and body.

"Damn you both..." Minerva spat angerly, wanting to reach out for some blow, and knowing none would be there.

"Where's my wand?" Minerva demanded when they reached McGonagall Manor that evening.

Hermione stared at the older witch incredulously. "Ha ha. You're so funny," she said dryly. "I think not, Minerva."

"I'm going to the library," Minerva huffed.

"It's not there," the younger woman called after her. "I've already swept the Manor. Harry gave me a hand. There is no cocaine left on the premises."

"I hate you," Minerva spat.

Hermione frowned. She knew this was going to be hard, on both of them. Minerva was going to say and do things that were hurtful as she went through the withdraw, and Hermione would have to stand her ground, even if it meant disrespecting the woman she held in highest the regard. It had been two days now, since Minerva's last fix, and the symptoms were started to show. By tomorrow, she would begin to experience the more profound physical symptoms. Shaking, sweating, pain; and no matter how painful it would be for Hermione to watch her friend and mentor go through that, she had to let it happen.

"You don't," she replied. "I know you don't think so now, but when all of this is over, you're going to thank me. How long have you been using? Since you started again, I mean. I know you quit in the seventies."

"I got high the night of the battle at Hogwarts," Minerva confessed. "I needed an extra push to get me through the night. And then the night after, and the one after that..."

"So three years," Hermione concluded. "The entirety of our friendship." That explained why she hadn't noticed; she'd never known Minerva, on a personal level, any other way.

"I never would have befriended a student, if I wasn't high," the older witch said bitterly. "I guess drugs do make you stupid. A real friend would never be this cruel to me."

Hermione felt her heart clench. Gods, this was going to be hard. "I'm sorry you feel like I'm doing this to harm you," she said quietly. "But that will not change my mind. Even if you choose to end our friendship after this...I will not regret helping you get clean."

She hoped she wouldn't regret it, anyhow. It killed her to think that she might lose the relationship that meant the most to her. Every cutting word Minerva said broke her heart, but she supposed that wasn't a new phenomamon. As it was, comments about how good a friend she was were difficult enough coming from the woman she was in love with.

The last time Minerva had been through this, she'd had someone who loved her by her side; someone whom she loved in return. Amelia often reminded her that at the time, she had not felt like Amelia loved her, but like all things, that passed, and they went on to have a wonderful twenty-two years together. Upon Amelia's death four years ago, Minerva had contemplated getting high to ease the pain, but she'd felt like it would have been a slap in her wife's face.

In the agonizing pain that swept over her body now, she wondered why, a year after Amelia's death, she had not considered that notion. It had been four days under the care of Hermione Granger, here in her Manor, and she was, with the aide of some potions, past the worse of it. Yesterday had been shakes and fever. She remembered Amelia's arms wrapped tightly around her as she cried and screamed...but today, she knew Amelia had been dead for years. Had she been helucinating, too?

"It was me," Hermione's voice said tenderly as she stepped into Minerva's bedroom. "You did seem to think it was Amelia, however."

Minerva looked at the younger witch, confused. She knew she was out of it, but she was fairly sure she had not been thinking out loud.

"You can't occlude worth a damned right now," Hermione explained. "I've been monitoring your mind, in case you thought to harm yourself."

"Oh," the older woman blushed. "So what information that I'll never live down have you gleamed?"

Hermione shrugged. "Very little. I already knew a lot about your history with drugs from Marcus. I found out about your marriage to Amelia while I was still at Hogwarts...I do admit I now know more details about that then you'd prefer I did."

"Oh, well..."

"It's fine, Minerva," Hermione assured her. "Anything I find out, I will not speak of, except with you. I may, I admit, be inclined to make good use of some of the information in other ways, however."

"Going to blackmail me?" Minerva asked bitterly. Impulse made her ask, though the logical side of her that was trying to push through this pain knew that Hermione would never do that to her. "Bugger, I didn't mean to say that," she muttered.

"I know."

"I'm sorry," Minerva apologized, suddenly thinking of what else she'd been thinking a good deal about the last few days. "For...how I feel...about you...I never meant for you to know."

Hermione reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. "We'll discuss that in another few days when you're feeling a bit more yourself, alright?"

"You're not...disgusted?" Minerva dared ask, seeing the level of calm remaining in Hermione's eyes.

"No," Hermione said softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on Minerva's cheek. "Now rest."

Confused, but knowing nothing could be done for it, Minerva curled up in a ball and did as she was instructed.

"Feel up to some chess?" Hermione asked Minerva, trying to gauge her former professor's progress. The last week had been...well, enlightening to say the least.

On the list of things that Hermione had found out while accessing Minerva's mind, nothing had surprised her more than the fact that for several years now, Minerva had sported a rather big crush on her. One one hand, this was utterly thrilling, because she too was interested in seeing how their relationship might evolve.

Alright, fine... more than interested. She was excited beyond bloody measure at the prospect.

That said, she knew that for Minerva, these feelings had developed while under the influence of cocaine. How real were they, once the drugs were stripped away and no longer a part of the equation?

On the other hand, Minerva had gone through the exact same thing, nearly, with Amelia Bones. They had been friends, and when Amelia found out Minerva was using cocaine, she had told her to get clean or bugger off. That time, it had been Minerva's choice to stop using drugs, but Amelia had helped her through it, much like Hermione was doing now. The brown eyed witch found herself praying that history would repeat itself.

"I think so," Minerva replied, moving to set up the chess board. "Black or white, my dear?"

"I'll go first," she said, internally smirking at the irony of that comment. She had promised herself that if Minerva was up for chess, she was up for the conversation regarding her feelings for Hermione, and the younger witch knew she'd have to be the one to bring it up.

Board set, Hermione made her first move. "Pawn to A4," she stated.

Minerva nodded, and responded. "Pawn to C5."

"Can we chat while we play?" Hermione asked, taking another move. "Knight to A3."

"Of course," Minerva agreed. "Queen to A4, capture pawn."

"About how you feel about me?" the younger witch suggested. "Pawn to E4."

Minerva's breath hitched. "Right, that. I've already said I'm sorry, but I can't change how I feel. You're an incredible woman, Hermione. Hell, look what you've done for me in the last week alone...pawn to D5."

"I don't want you to be sorry for it," Hermione said. "I want to know why you never told me. Queen to D2."

"What difference would that have made?" Minerva inquired sharply. "Bishop to F4."

Hermione wasn't sure if the sharp tone was because of the conversation, or because her last move had prevented Minerva from getting a quick checkmate. "Queen to F4, capture Bishop. After a brief pause, she spoke softly. "I feel the same, Minerva. I'm in love with you."

Minerva's eyes snapped away from the board and directly into her own. "Whut?"

"Make your move, Minerva," she said. Again with the double meaning, she thought with amusement.

Minerva's move, as it were, involved jumping up so quickly that the chessboard and pieces fell to the ground, and Hermione barely had a chance to gasp before Minerva's lips were on hers. It wasn't long and passionate, but rather a peppering of several dozen kisses before Hermione's head cleared.

"Calm down Minerva," she ordered, grabbing the older woman's face and pushing it back in few inches. "Relax, love."

Minerva looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry...I'm still not...I mean... my control seems to be still somewhat lacking. I was just..."

"Excited?"

"Understatement," she replied, fire burning in her emerald eyes. "I've wanted you, loved you, for a long time now. That you could also want me..."

"I've actually been in love with you longer than you've been in love with me," Hermione smirked. "I know how you feel. When I read your mind and found out...let's just say I took a run in the garden and squealed like a little girl down at the lake."

Minerva smiled. "Can I kiss you now?" she asked. "This time with my head on a bit straighter?"

The younger woman nodded, gulping. "Yes," she moaned as Minerva's lips slowly moved forward again, this time gentle and loving, tongues connecting for the first time a moment later. The kiss went on for a bit, but eventually Hermione pulled away. What they felt for each other out in the open now, but Minerva still needed time to heal. Hermione didn't want to push before the older witch was really ready.

"Thanks," Minerva said eventually.

"For?" Hermione inquired.

"Saving my life. Bringing me here. Helping me get clean. Loving me. Being you," the older witch listed. "For everything, Hermione. For the first time since Amelia passed, I feel like things might be okay."

"Give it another week," Hermione said softly. "And we'll make you feel more than okay about the future. I promise."

"I believe you."

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