This fic is dedicated to she who gave me the challenge, which was too long to repost here without me feeling guilty about how much it would boost the word count...lol...aka the wonderful, beautiful, Holli! The Prompt was based on Pink's song "Run".
This one is a bit out of my usual box, and I'd covet your thoughts on how it was! Thanks!
Take the best of what I've got,
And you know no matter what,
Before you walk away,
You know you can run back to my arms.
2020
Minerva McGonagall stood on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters with her wife and eleven year old daughter, Matilda. It was odd to be here; a parent seeing her child off to Hogwarts for the very first time. Any year before, she would be already at the distinguished school, preparing to meet the new class of first years, as well as the returning second through seventh year students. At her wife's request, however, she had retired at the end of last term, leaving Filius Flitwick as Headmaster, and leaving Matilta to have the full experience of what it meant to be a Hogwarts student, without her parents there watching her every move. Like Minerva, Hermione McGonagall, formally Granger, had stepped down from her Hogwarts post, the resident Potions Mistress, in order to give their daughter the freedom o be a kid like any other. The two would have much more time together, now.
Aside from the wonder of being a parent sending a child to Hogwarts, Minerva thought it was absolutely bazaar to consider that the younger witch standing beside her now was actually hers to call wife at all. She had Hermione had, to her never ending shame, gotten involved when the other woman was just seventeen, at the beginning of her sixth year at Hogwarts. Granted, she was beyond grateful that the brown-eyed beauty was hers.
"Mum?" Minerva heard Matilda ask Hermione.
"Yes, sweetheart?" Hermione replied as the former Headmistress watched from a distance. The younger of the two of them had taken to parenthood like a fish in water, and while Minerva had certainly gotten better over the last eleven years, she just wasn't born with that maternal instinct. She very much took on the father role in their parenting efforts; head of the household, as it were.
"What if I get put in Slytherin?" Matilda asked.
Minerva forced herself not to laugh. McGonagalls had been Gryffindors for all living memory. The idea of one going to any other house was preposterous, and Matilda should know this. The fear of being put in Slytherin was illogical, and had Matilda asked her what she'd just asked Hermione, Minerva would have told her exactly that.
Still, there were things about Hermione that Minerva often thought were Slytherin. Her ambition was very suited to the house of Salazar, though the stability of her marriage depended on her never, ever saying that to her wife…but she remembered moments that made her question.
"Minerva," Hermione said. "I cannot stay here, with you. Even if you were willing to work with a long distance relationship, I have to focus on my studies. Hogwarts has been easy for me, but working for a mastery…you'd be a distraction."
"I see," Minerva replied, trying to be understanding. She and Hermione had been secretly involved for the better part of the last year, have connected after the younger witch had returned to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year, after the war. Minerva had known that it couldn't have lasted when she started sleeping with her student – regardless of Hermione's desire to continue her education, there were plenty of other reasons why their dalliance had been doomed from the start.
Still, a part of her hoped that Hermione would come back, after she got her mastery, and would once again be in her arms. There wasn't really much hope of that; except perhaps a fool's hope.
Minerva shook her head, refocusing on the present, as she felt her daughter's arms wrapping around her waist. "Bye, mother," Matilda said. "See you at Christmas."
"Be safe, my dear," Minerva muttered, stroking the hair that was so like her own. "I love you."
Remember make believe in you
All the things I said I'd do
I wouldn't hurt you, like the world did me
Keep you safe, I'd keep you sweet
2021
Hermione McGonagall sighed, reading over Matilda's most recent letter. The second year Gryffindor was having a hard time dealing with the Quidditch coach, Ron Weasley, who had never quite forgiven Hermione for not being with him. It seemed that he was taking out his feelings on she and Minerva's twelve year old, much like Severus Snape had taken out his hatred of James Potter on Harry.
"He told me that I flew about as well as you, mum' Matilda had written. 'I said that I took that as a compliment – I mean you fly just fine, even though you don't like to. Then he laughed, a mean sort of laugh, and said 'I must have said it wrong, then.' What a bloody brat, mum! If he gets much worse, I might start thinking of quitting Quidditch, but on the other hand, I don't want to let mother down – me being on the team means so much to her…"
Hermione growled, knowing that nothing she said to Ron would change his behavior toward Matilta, and he hated to put Harry in the middle. As much as she wanted to spare her beautiful little girl the kind of torment that Harry did, she knew she couldn't. After all, pain helped you grow.
Minerva walked into the room. "A letter from Matilda?"
"Yes," the younger woman replied. "It seems my past is catching up with her, unfortunately. Ron is giving her a hard time, like Snape did Harry and I."
"I don't suppose you're going to let me go put the fear of McGonagall into him, will you?" Minerva asked, frowning.
"No, darling," Hermione smiled. "As much as it pains me to say, there are some battles she'll have to fight on her own."
"Considering whose personality she inherited, I think that you should at least offer some moral support," Minerva huffed. "As opposed to…not replying or something equally ridiculous."
Hermione was immediately thrown into her memory –the memory on of the more stupid things she'd done on the road to being happy with the woman standing beside her now.
An absolutely soul wrenching letter sat at her desk. Hermione's eyes were blurred with tears over the passionate letter that Minerva had just sent.
"I know I never said it while we were together at Hogwarts," Minerva had written in conclusion to a long list of fond memories, including some of their more interesting sexual encounters, "but I love you, Hermione. I love you more than I've ever loved another, and I was a fool to let you walk away without saying so. I know this changes nothing, but I wanted you to know…"
Minerva was right. The three words made no difference now, but they might have done if they'd been said eighteen months ago, before she'd left. Now, she had her mastery to work on, and she couldn't spare more than this moment to think about the woman who had always held her heart. She couldn't afford the breakdown that was sure to follow if she reconnected with Minerva now…
And so she had never replied to the letter.
Hermione lurched back to the present, looking at the letter in her hands now. Of course she'd reply. She'd never really forgive herself for never writing Minerva back after that letter, even if it had been just to say that she understood what the older witch was feeling, since she'd never uttered those three words to Minerva at that point, either.
"Could you get me an inkwell and quill?" Hermione whispered, looking up at her wife.
Everything that I went through,
I'm grateful you won't have to do
I know that you will have to fall
I can't hide you from it all
2022
"Mum! Mother!" fourteen year old Matilda said, stepping off the Hogwarts Express, ready to be home for Christmas break.
"Hi Sweetheart!" Hermione called, waving from she and Minerva's spot a few meters away.
Minerva watched as her daughter launched into Hermione's open arms, smiling ruefully. She couldn't bring herself to be jealous of the closeness that her wife and daughter had – Matilda had always been too much like her for them to get along very well. She hoped, in time, that her clone, as Harry Potter referred to her as, would mature to a point where their mutual volatile nature would ebb enough for them to have a closer relationship. Until that happened, she would wait. God knew she waited long enough for the girl's mother…
Minerva sat at her desk, staring down at a bit of parchment with a grand total of four words and a name. The name had been unnecessary, as she could have recognized the handwriting anywhere, anytime, but the four words –
"I love you, too."
It was a reply to the letter she'd written to Hermione nearly a year and a half ago, a choice she had made then to take a chance and say what she had neglected to say when it would have mattered. Apparently, the confession had meant something to Hermione Granger, after all.
"I love you, too."
Not loved, but love. Present tense. As in, feelings that still existed, despite having not seen each other, not communicated, for the better part of the last four years. It seemed like a fool's hope had been enough after all.
The short message had been sent a few months before Hermione's completion of her Potions Mastery, and it had spurred a series of letters which would become the foundation to the relationship that they would build. Their time together at Hogwarts had been a sordid, dirty little secret, but Minerva and Hermione had agreed that if they decided to resume their relationship, they would be doing so publically.
And they had.
"Mother?" Matilda ask, as soon as they'd apparated away from King's Cross and back to the street on which they now lived.
"Yes, dear?"
"How did you know you wanted to be a teacher?" the green eyed young lady inquired.
Startled, Minerva frowned. "Are you thinking of that being your career path, Matilta?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," the third year said quietly. "I know students don't have to start thinking about careers until OWLs, but I've been thinking a lot about it, and wondered…well…if that would make you proud?"
Minerva kneeled, taking her daughter's hand and looking up at the green eyes that matched her own. "My dear, I will be proud of you no matter what career you choose, but if you were seeking my approval to become a teacher, you absolutely have it. I know your mum would feel the same. It's an admirable occupation, to wish to shape the minds of the next generation."
Matilda's arms were latched around Minerva's neck seconds later. "Thanks, mother," she whispered. "I love you."
The older witch forced herself not to tear up. Like she and Hermione, Matilda had difficulty saying those three words, which meant that when she did, she meant it fully. It was good to know that her little girl was growing up, and that despite all the trials she would surely face, she would always know where to go when she needed love.
See, here's the bloody, bloody truth
You will hurt and you will lose
I've got scars you won't believe
Wear them proudly on my sleeve
2023
Hermione stared incredulously at Matilda's latest correspondence. "You have got to be FUCKING kidding me!" she shouted.
"My love, what's wrong?" Minerva said, having rushed into the den upon hearing her wife's outburst.
"Our daughter thinks she is in love…" Hermione said with a groan.
Minerva frowned. "Well, she's getting to be about that age, you know, for first love and all that."
"With Ronald –FUCKING –Weasley!"
"Oh," Minerva said, stunned. "Are you sure?"
Hermione handed off the letter with a sigh of exasperation. She knew she wouldn't give Matilta any grief about being with someone older, nor could she disapprove of the fact that she was interested in a teacher…but RON?
"Unbelievable," Minerva muttered, handing back the parchment. "What are we going to do about this?"
"Well that depends on if Ron is interested in Matilda," Hermione muttered, irritated. "That would be so like him. Praying on little girls…"
"You mean like I did?" Minerva inquired with an amused tone.
"Yes, thank you darling," Hermione drawled sarcastically. "Please remind me of why I would be hypocritical to voice disapproval of her interest in that GIT!"
"I'm less concerned about her interest being directed at Ronald Weasley, and more that I hate to have to watch her deal with the same things you had to," Minerva mused. "Fighting with the social stigma involved with being in a May-December relationship."
Hermione sighed, remembering the year that she and the older witch had come out as a couple. After a year of exchanging love letters while Hermione completed her studies, she had come back to Hogwarts to teach Potions, and she and Minerva had agreed off the bat that they would not be hiding their relationship. She had known before they made that decision that it would be hard to handle, but the amount of pain involved in the people you love most rejecting you was not something anyone can really prepare for.
Hermione stormed into she and Minerva's shared quarters, after a lunch with her parents, fighting the onslaught of tears.
"What's wrong, love?" Minerva asked, voice laced with concern.
"My parents," Hermione choked out, flinging herself into her lover's embrace, "don't approve."
"Oh, sweetheart," Minerva murmured, stroking the younger woman's hair. "They'll come around, you'll see."
"They said that want no part of someone who supports…who supports…" Hermione sobbed, "pedophiles."
If Minerva was affected by the notion that Hermione's parents thought of her in such a manner, she didn't let it show, which was of some relief to the younger witch.
"I'm sorry, my love," the older witch said, soothingly. "I'm so sorry."
Hermione groaned at the thought of her parents, who she had not spoken to since that day. At least one thing was for certain. If Matilda's affections were returned by Ron, then no matter how she might feel about him, she would not abandon her child the way her parents had abandoned her. "I guess we just wait and see what happens," she said.
"Can I send an Owl to Ronald, just to clarify how young Matilda still is?" Minerva asked timidly.
Hermione laughed. "You mean a Howler? The last time you did that he stopped being mean to her, which is probably why we're having this conversation now. So no, my dear, no Owls to Ron. We just have to love and support Matilda, whatever happens."
I hope you'll have the sense to know
That sadness comes and sadness goes
Love so hard and play life loud
It's the only thing to give a damn about
2024
Minerva watched as Hermione and Matilda flipped through photo albums during the summer between her daughter's fourth and fifth years. Thankfully, the girls interest in Ron Weasley had only lasted a few months, which had spared Minerva the trouble of breaking up a fight between her wife and daughter that would have surely happened, had Matilda come home for the summer, angsting after the red-haired Flying Instructor. Thank Merlin for small mercies.
"Mother, come look!" Matilda said, spotting her leaning on the doorframe between the kitchen and living area. "Mum and I are looking at your wedding pictures."
"I don't need to look, my dear," Minerva said, coming over to the couch they were sitting on anyhow. "I remember that day like it was yesterday."
"I wanted to get ideas for my wedding," the sixteen year old beauty said, grinning.
"Don't rush!" Minerva said, gaping. "Good god, girl, you are still so young!"
"I have a boyfriend!" Matilda said in her duh tone.
"Who is also too young to be thinking of marriage," Minerva said, glaring at her wife who was doing nothing to assist her in talking good sense into their teenager. The older witch thought about the Ravenclaw boy, Jai Larson, who Matilta had taken to about three months ago. He seemed like a fine young man, but he was still a hormonal teenager, as was Matilda, and Minerva had lived long enough to know that lust couldn't hold a relationship together…not that lust wasn't a great part of a relationship…
"This is better," Hermione had said to her as they stood hand in hand at the later, preparing to take their vows. "Love, honest and true, over the lust that began our story?"
"Much better," Minerva replied.
"Your mother is right," Hermione said finally. "We can always talk about ideas, but if you want to be a teacher, you will need to get your mastery after Hogwarts, and trust me when I saw that working on a mastery is not conducive to a relationship of any serious sort."
"Yea, yea," Matilda groaned. "Heard this story, like, fifty times, mum."
All this time I swear I'll never waste it
All your smiles I'm always gonna save them
Put it in the back of my mind
Back to my arms, and they will hold you down
2025
Hermione stared at her daughter, too shocked for words. Matilda had Owled her and asked to meet over the sixth years Hogsmeade weekend, and she had gladly agreed, but now she was wishing she had not done so. "Excuse me?"
"I think I might be pregnant," Matilda mumbled. "I was too afraid to go to the Hospital Wing…"
"And you thought I might react better than Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione exclaimed.
"You'd react better than mother," the soon to be seventeen year old snapped, "And Madam Pomfrey would have Owled mother straight away!"
"Pshh," Hermione huffed.
"Mum…I know you know the spell to find out," Matilda pleaded. "I'm only two weeks late…it could just be stress."
Yes, Hermione knew the spell. The last time she'd cast it, it was the day she'd found out she was pregnant with Matilda. Then, the worry had been that she was not pregnant, but now she found herself terrified that her daughter was.
"So, were you right?" Minerva asked excitedly. "Are we pregnant?"
Hermione saw the orb in front of her abdomen flash once, and then twice, and then on the third flash she grinned broadly. "YES!"
Minerva's smile couldn't have been brighter. It had taken them a year of trying, but it had finally happened. They were having a baby.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione pointed her wand at her daughter's abdomen and cast the spell non-verbally. The familiar orb appeared.
One flash to show it was working.
A second flash to show fertility.
The orb vanished then, and a few seconds ticked on in silence as Hermione internally thanked all the gods that might be listening. No third flash. No pregnancy. She finally let out the breath she'd been holding, and looked up at her daughter's anxious face.
"Mum?" Matilda asked, trembling.
"You're not pregnant, sweetheart," Hermione whispered, reaching out and grasping her daughter's hand, and giving it a comforting squeeze.
"Oh, thank Merlin!" Matilda groaned, resting her head on the table and taking a few deep breaths to calm herself.
"That said," Hermione said sternly after a moment. "It appears we need to have a chat about contraceptive charms."
Matilda gulped.
Run, run, run,
Back to my arms, back to my arms
Run, run, run,
Back to my arms and they will hold you down
2026
Minerva had never been so proud as she was today. Not only was Matilda graduating Hogwarts with top marks, much like Hermione had, but she was leaving these hallowed grounds only to move into her own apartment near where the Charms Master she would be apprenticing under was living, in Paris. Even though Matilda had been out of the house for the better part of the last seven years, after today, she would call somewhere else home, and set out on the journey to follow in her parents' footsteps and become a teacher. Eventually, Matilta hoped, she end up back at Hogwarts, though getting her mastery in France offered her the foothold into Beauxbatons Academy as well.
Gods, Minerva thought. I remember the day she was born.
"She looks just like you, Min," Hermione breathed, holding the seven pound, three ounce baby girl in her arms. Dark hair, green eyes, and high cheekbones which were clearly a McGonagall trait were featured on the newborn.
"Let's hope she gets your personality," Minerva commented. "Merlin save us if she gets my temper."
"She has my nose," Hermione cooed, ignoring her wife's comment.
Minerva smiled to herself, though her attention was perked when she heard her daughter say "I'm scared, mum," to Hermione, where the two were standing a few feet away. Being an animagis meant that Minerva would easily eavesdrop from this distance, if she applied herself….which she did.
"Of what, darling?" Hermione asked their daughter.
"Of everything!" Matilda exclaimed. "I mean, if I fail and end up not meeting mother's expectations, or if I succeed and never have a family like I know you want, or if Jai is wrong and he can't handle the long distance relationship thing and I lose him…"
"The boy did ask you to marry him last week," Hermione chuckled. "I don't think Jai is going anywhere."
"Yea, well…what about the other stuff?" Matilda said, shifting uncomfortably.
"Matilda Alice McGonagall," Hermione said, taking her daughter's hand. "Don't worry about what me or your mother expect of you. As long as you do your best, we will be proud of you. If you succeed, we will celebrate with you. If everything get to be too much, and you feel like just running away…then you run home, where we will be waiting with open arms, to love and support you in whatever direction your life leads you. You cannot fail, because from our perspectives, your very life has been the greatest success we could have hoped for. You are a brilliant, beautiful young woman, Matilda. We love you very much."
The green eyed girl let out a sigh of relief, and pulled Hermione into a tight hug. "Thanks mum. I love you too. So much."
A moment later, Matilda was accosted by her fiancé, Jai Larson, and left Hermione standing alone, staring after her little girl. Minerva slowly walked up behind her wife, wrapping her arms around the younger woman's waist and pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck.
Hermione leaned into Minerva and sighed. "It's hard to let her go."
"I know," the older witch whispered. "I feel much the same today as I did the day you left Hogwarts. Like you said to Matilda, your life was already a success in my eyes, and I wished the best for you, even if that meant not being with me. Granted, I was happy beyond words when you came back."
"I should never have run in the first place," Hermione muttered. "I've always belonged at your side."
"You had to go, my love," Minerva said, letting go of her grip on Hermione's waist and taking her hand, guiding her forward. "You needed room to grow. Just like Matilda does now."
The End
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