It was the beginning of Hermione's fourth year at Hogwarts. She had just boarded the Hogwarts Express and had found herself a compartment together with Ron and Harry. The two of them were talking excitedly about the new year to come, about all the things they were going to do when they got there, about Quidditch practice, about who the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher would be, about their new subjects…

Hermione was always interested in new subjects. She had started reading all her new school books as soon as she had bought them at Flourish & Blotts and she had nearly finished them by now. She did that every year. This year, however, had been different. She still looked forward to the new term as always, but she was less interested than usual in all the new spells and stuff she would learn. No, there was something else on her mind that had kept her busy all summer. A feeling she did not quite understand, but it was a pleasant feeling after all.

She had been thinking about professor McGonagall more and more. She had always liked her teacher. She was smart and serious and brave, everything that Hermione admired so much. She wanted to be like her. Last year, the professor had lent her a time turner so she would be able to take all the courses she wanted. McGonagall had told her that time turners could be dangerous in the wrong hands and that it was a great responsibility but that she trusted Hermione and thought she was very responsible and serious enough not to meddle with time and to use the time turner for the right purposes. Hermione had felt proud about this and was determined to prove she could handle this new responsibility and she did.

Every now and again, professor McGonagall, being their Head of House, had wanted a conversation with Hermione about how her lessons were going and also to make sure that Hermione wasn't overworking herself. McGonagall always invited Hermione to her office and they would have tea and a biscuit while they talked. Lately they had started talking about other things as well. They had in-depth conversations about difficult transfiguration issues and the professor told her a bit more about some well-known witches like Rowena Ravenclaw and Artemisia Lufkin, the first female Minister of Magic. Those women were all very intelligent and hard-working, just like Hermione and, she realized, just like McGonagall. Her professor seemed to admire those women very much, her bookshelves were full of books written by and about them.

At first, Hermione found it a bit confusing to meet her teacher outside the classroom and to see her as a normal person instead of just a teacher. When in class, there was always a certain distance. Hermione understood why, McGonagall couldn't be too friendly with one of her students, but it bothered her. During their conversations they got on really well and talked a lot and then suddenly in class, the professor was stand-offish and treated her like any other student.

During the summer holidays, Hermione found herself thinking more and more about her professor. She tried to remember the conversations they had and started longing for the new term. She just hoped they would continue to meet outside class, like they did last year. Perhaps not, because Hermione wouldn't be using the time-turner now, since it had proven to be a bit too much for her last year. The thought that their meetings might be over for good, made a slight panic rise inside her chest. She had been looking forward to those meetings, more and more.

Lately, Hermione found herself not only thinking about their conversations but also about McGonagall's smile, her light blue eyes, the softness of her emerald green robes which had brushed her hand now and again and about the sunlight that played on the brown hair bringing a ginger glow to it. Every time she thought about her professor, a slight smile played around her mouth and she felt a rush of affection going through her body. She didn't mind and didn't pay much attention to it, because it was a nice feeling. She kept it to herself though, this was something only she needed to know.

In the train, Hermione stared through the window and watched the landscape slide past. They had left London behind and were now gliding through the rolling countryside, passing some small village now and again. Hermione just stared but didn't really take in what she saw. She could only think about the feeling of velvet brushing past her hand, the smell of books and strong Lady Grey tea and the small lips of her professor curling into a lovely smile. She was so far away that she didn't hear Ron and Harry until they shouted her name for the third time. She looked around, bewildered, and saw that the lady with the trolley had arrived at their compartment. Ron was already buying all the different types of sweets and asked if Hermione wanted some too. She said she wasn't hungry. She didn't know if she was or not, to be quite frankly, she hadn't thought about it, her mind was somewhere else entirely.

When the train arrived at Hogsmeade station, the sun was already slowly disappearing behind the mountains. Hagrid greeted them and lead them to the carriages, drawn by the invisible Thestrals. Hermione watched the castle come closer and closer. Automatically, her gaze swerved to one of the little towers, and yes, one of the windows was lit, it was Hers.

As Hermione left the carriage and entered the castle through the great doors, she felt her heart jump, she was home again.

As soon as they had unpacked all their stuff in the dormitory and changed into their school robes, they went down to the Great Hall for the start of term banquet and the sorting ceremony. In the Great Hall, Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table with Ron on her right and Harry on her left. Everybody was laughing and talking excitedly. After all, most of them had not seen each other during the holidays, so they had to catch up on everything. Although Hermione was usually the one whose voice could be heard above all others, she was exceptionally quite this evening. She could not keep her attention to the conversation her friends were having. Instead, she kept glancing at the teachers table but she could not find the familiar emerald green robes nor the pointed witches' hat that her beloved professor used to wear at such occasions. Hermione was filled with a sudden sadness at the sight of the empty chair next to professor Dumbledore.

But then, all conversation died as the great doors swung open and professor McGonagall entered the Great Hall, followed by a large group of first years. Hermione's heart gave a slight jolt and she felt a funny feeling in her stomach when she saw McGonagall coming towards her with the loveliest smile on her face and a twinkling in her eyes. As she passed, Hermione heard the rustling of robes and took in the familiar smell of books, strong tea and the subtle but powerful spicy perfume that She always wore.

During the sorting ceremony, led by McGonagall, Hermione could not keep her eyes of the professor. She studied every movement she made and every word she spoke. In the end, she had no idea which students had been sorted in which houses. Ron or Harry gave her a nudge now and again to try and engage her in their conversation. She tried to concentrate on what they were talking about and to seem interested in the subject, but after a short while, her thoughts swerved to some place far away. It wasn't until everybody around her started talking about their timetables and Harry asked her what their first course would be the next day, that Hermione woke up from her reveries. She had learned her timetable by heart and not only hers, but Ron's and Harry's as well. She certainly remembered which would be their first lesson tomorrow. It was transfiguration. She had been looking forward to that all summer and that night she could hardly sleep from excitement.

She woke early. The other girls were still asleep and so she had some time of her own. Hermione liked that, she liked being on her own and preferred the silence to all the chatter and laughter. She got out of bed and went down the stairs, making sure she made as less noise as possible. The stone steps felt cold under her bare feet and she was glad when she got to the common room and the warm carpet. The fire in the fireplace was gone, there were only cinders left that were glowing faintly. She sat down before one of the large windows overlooking the grounds and the Black Lake. The trees in the Forbidden Forest were already starting to colour yellow, orange and red. And so was the tree that stood nearby the lake. She, Ron and Harry had spent a lot of warm summer days under that tree and they would do so again this year.

A few hours later, when walking down the corridor with Ron and Harry towards the Transfiguration classroom, Hermione started to feel a bit nervous. She had never felt that way, only before exams and they wouldn't get one on their first day of term.