This was originally the second half of a very long chapter one. I have broken it down per a request to continue this story, and being NOT asouldreams, my chapters are not usually 10k. If you have read this part already, you can proceed to "chapter three", where the actual update to this story is. Enjoy!
Minerva didn't have a chance to steel herself for meeting Jean, as the woman in question was already sitting, suitcase in hand and looking miserable, on her front stoop when Minerva apparated onto the street in front of the Granger home. Jean got up at once and rushed into Minerva's arms, which had opened of their own violation, and then closed tightly against Jean's warm body.
"Why is it when I see you you're always crying?" Minerva murmured into the squib's hair.
Jean guffawed. "Because you don't come to see me often enough. I think half of these tears are just because I'm happy to see you."
Minerva sighed, thinking of the dozens of letters she'd exchanged with this woman, most of which had nothing to do with Hermione's education, and sometimes had nothing to do with Hermione at all. Their friendship had grown over the last year and a half, despite Minerva's rule abiding side protesting with every stroke of her quill. She just seemed to be bereft of reason when it came to this woman. "I'm happy to see you, too," she whispered. "Though I wish it was under better circumstances."
"Can squibs get into Hogwarts?" Jean asked, obviously thinking of her daughter's condition.
Minerva nodded. "We actually have a squib on staff. While John would see nothing, like he couldn't see the rash on Hermione from the Dragon Pox, you on the other hand will see Hogwarts just as a witch or wizard could."
"Good," Jean replied. "I was a bit worried you'd arrive and say that I wouldn't be able to see Hermione."
"And yet you seem quite packed and ready to leave," Minerva noted, eying a suitcase that was obviously prepared for more than a brief stay at the castle. "Did you at least leave John a note saying where you'd gone off to?"
Jean huffed. "I left him a note alright. A note telling him I'd be back in a week, and that when I returned we'd be talking about a divorce. I…"
"Jean…" Minerva breathed, a bit stunned at this turn of events. "Are you sure you aren't being rash… I understand you're upset but…"
"I was an utter wreck last night, Minerva McGonagall," Jean said sternly. "And that damned man didn't so much as look at me with concern. He obviously doesn't give a bloody shit about me, and I already know he has no love for our daughter, so pray tell, why am I with him still?"
Minerva was a bit taken aback by Jean's tone, and opted to let the argument go before it escalated. Truthfully, while she felt almost duty bound to urge her friend to see reason, she was less than sorry at the possibility that Jean Granger, this beautiful woman still in her arms, was on the way to single. The fact that they came from different worlds still stood between any potential relationship, not to mention Jean's feelings on the matter, but it was more than Minerva had ever hoped for. "Are you ready to go, then?" she asked after a moment, not answering Jean's question.
"Yes," Jean replied. "Are we going to… oh what was the bloody word… oh, right! Apparate?"
The Scottish witch chuckled. "Indeed we are. I do warn you, it is perfectly normal to feel nauseous when you do it for the first time."
"I'll try not to throw up on you," Jean quipped.
"I'd thank you for it," Minerva replied with a soft smile. "Hold onto me."
Jean did as she'd been asked, and with a deep, centering breath she apparated both of them to the gates of Hogwarts. She was pleased when she saw the look of awe on her companions face. While coming here today was not exactly a thing of joy, the castle was still a sight to behold. "Wow," Jean murmured. "Hermione's descriptions were vivid, but God, Minerva, this is incredible."
"If you open your eyes just a bit wider, you'll be the spitting image of Hermione when she first arrived," Minerva teased.
"According to my grandmother, your entire first year here you were bouncing in your seat during her class, you were so excited," Jean countered with a smirk.
"Oi! Not fair!" Minerva exclaimed, partly annoyed and partly curious as to why Jean had been asking Agatha about her in the first place. "Your daughter is no better, you know! In Transfiguration, she knows the answer to every question, and bounces in her seat to try and raise her hand just a little higher. She's a second year now, and it still hasn't abated!"
Jean's expression faltered. "I suppose we should get up to your hospital and see her, then."
Mood officially sobered, Minerva led her guest in through the gate, and up the marble staircase toward the Head's office. As much as she'd have liked to just take Jean right to the hospital wing, she needed to check in with Albus first – both to inform him of her return, and so that Jean could sign in. All guests at the castle were required to do so.
"This way," the Scottish witch urged. "Albus will want to meet you before we see Hermione."
Jean nodded, knowing full well who Albus Dumbledore was. In the course of their correspondences, Minerva had vented about her irritating boss more than once, though for each time she expressed displeasure, she'd at least three times as often speak highly of the wizard. Minerva and Jean had shared much with each other about their respective lives in the last eighteen months, and while she was glad to have Jean in the castle, she knew that she would have to answer to Albus about their relationship. There would be no hiding her own feelings about Jean from the dratted man, and as he was a very perceptive person, Minerva expected he'd have some insight on where Jean might be regarding Minerva. She both dreaded and looking forward to that conversation; one which, she shuddered at the thought, was decidedly impending.
"Albus, I'm back." Minerva said by way of greeting.
He stood and made his way over to the pair, extending his hand to the newcomer. "I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. You must be Mrs. Granger. I'm so sorry for what has happened to your daughter. She's quite a clever girl, and we're glad of her presence here."
Jean shook his hand, nodding politely before turning to Minerva. "He's exactly as I thought he'd be," she said, giggling a little. "And he does smell of lemon drops."
Albus raised his eyebrows and looked at his colleague. "I was not aware that you were so familiar with me, madam."
Minerva coughed. "Jean and I have…corresponded a fair bit."
"Well then, Mrs. Granger. If you'll step over here, I'll floo you directly to the Hospital Wing from here," Albus said, returning his attention to their guest. "I'm afraid I need a quick word with Minerva. She'll be along shortly. Madam Pomfrey will be waiting for you on the other side. Am I correct in assuming you understand a bit about the floo network as well?"
Jean nodded, offering Minerva an apologetic smile. "Purple powder, state your destination clearly, pop out of another fireplace," she muttered.
"Be my guest," Albus said, pointing to the pot of floo powder on the mantle.
"Tell Poppy I'll be along in a minute," Minerva said to Jean. "And brace yourself… it's going to be a bit of a shock to see Hermione the way she is."
"Thank you Minerva," Jean replied, pressing a quick kiss to the other woman's cheek. "I'll see you soon."
A moment later, the squib was gone, and Minerva busied herself looking at her shoes, waiting for Albus to speak. He finally did. "You're in love with her," he stated. It was not a question.
"Perhaps," Minerva admitted.
"She's married," he continued. Another statement.
"She's asking him for a divorce," Minerva defended quickly. "And besides, nothing has happened between us. I don't even know how she bloody feels about me."
"The same, I believe," the Headmaster replied. "Though she is scared of what that means. To be with you, she'd have to give up everything in her life, potentially including her daughter if young Miss Granger did not take kindly to her mother being with another woman, much less her teacher. The poor child is already teased enough, you know."
"She's got Potter and Weasley now," Minerva argued. "And most of the other children, sans Malfoy and his group, leave her be for the most part. I think she'd be alright with it."
"And what of Jean's job? Her home? Her friends in the muggle world?"
"Albus, nothing has happened between us," the Scottish witch snapped. "You are insinuating that we have a relationship to take to the next level, as in living together, which seems silly to talk about because we haven't even so much as kissed!"
Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "I strongly urge you to instigate a conversation at least talking about the affection between you, especially in light of her impending divorce. She may remain at the castle for the week, though after that if she wants to stay close, she will need to seek lodgings in Hogsmeade. I have a hard enough time keeping Lucius out of Hogwarts as it is – if he gets wind that a muggleborn's mother is allowed to stay at the castle , he'll be on the doorstep every time young Mr. Malfoy gets a scratch. Which, as the boy plays Quidditch, is likely to be often."
"I understand, Albus," she said. "May I go join Jean now?"
"Of course," he replied. "I assume you'll have her stay with you?"
"Being that she's not a witch, I think it best she not stay alone in guest quarters," Minerva concurred.
"My thoughts exactly," he said easily. "Though let her know it will probably be close to end of term before the Mandrake matures enough for harvest, so if she intends to remain close, it may be prudent she have a talk with Rosmerta or Aberforth soon. Also, should she decide to remain here, I can have an Auror available to escort her to and from places as she needs. I cannot have you skipping classes and staff meetings to help your lover."
Minerva glared. "She's not my lover."
Albus got a twinkle in his eye. "By week's end, I believe she will be."
Jean Granger was getting her things unpacked in Minerva's guest room when there was a knock at the door. She knew Minerva had classes till later this afternoon, so the sound startled her. Hermione was… petrified, so of course her daughter wouldn't be dropping by to see her, and she didn't know anyone else here. "Eep!" she squealed.
Albus Dumbledore chuckled at the sound. "I apologize firstly for startling you, and secondly for the intrusion, but I was hoping I might have a word."
"Of course, Headmaster," she agreed, moving toward Minerva's sitting room and taking a seat, ushering him to do the same. It was a bit odd how at home she felt in Minerva quarters, but it didn't strike her as awkward at all to be playing hostess with Minerva here.
"Mrs. Granger…"
"Jean, please."
"Then you must call me Albus," he said. "Minerva has indicated that you are planning to divorce your husband. Is this true?"
Jean looked at him, perplexed by his interest in the subject. Of course the divorce would impact Hermione, but not to the point that the Headmaster would need to know. Then it hit her. Albus must be asking on behalf of his friend. Jean knew how much she had grown to care for Minerva, and she was smart enough to see the signs that said Minerva felt much the same. Jean had hoped to speak with the other woman sometime this week. "It is," she answered.
"I'm sure you are wondering why I would ask such a thing…"
"I have a fair guess it has something to do with Minerva," she vocalized, her tone accusing.
"Quite," he replied with a smile. "At least, in part. But before we talk about your romantic interest in my Transfiguration Professor…"
Jean's jaw fell at his bluntness.
"…I was wondering if you might tell me what you already know if your grandmother's family," he continued.
Jean shook her head, adjusting her brain to the change of topic. If he was anything like Minerva said he was, then he absolutely had a reason for asking, and it was probably of some importance, and by the way he'd broached both the topic of the Tully family and her interest in Minerva at the same time, she reasoned that they two were probably interrelated. God, she really hoped she wasn't about to find out she was related to the woman who had caught her eye.
"My grandmother explained that she was a witch, and came from a long line of witches and wizards. She mentioned she had a younger sister who married a wizard, though my grandmother had married a… oh what's the word you use for non-magical people?"
"Muggle," Albus offered.
"Right," Jean agreed, remembering. "She married a muggle, and her only child, my father, was born non magical. I was also born non magical, and as my father wanted nothing to do with his mother's, er, magic and so forth, he never told me anything about it. I only found out after Hermione got Dragon Pox, a virus I also had as a child. That's when I met Minerva."
"Anything else?" the elderly wizard inquired kindly.
Jean shook her head. "Grandmum was failing by the time I approached her about it. I was lucky to get as much out of her as I did, information wise."
"She never mentioned your father's sister?"
Jean blinked. "My father had a sister? I have an aunt?"
"Indeed."
"Is she still alive? What about my grandmother's sister? Is she still alive? Did she have children? Do I have a whole pile of wizarding family out there somewhere?" Jean asked in rapid fire.
Minerva chose that moment to enter her quarters. "And that, my dear, is what Hermione sounds like when I introduce a new topic. Sorry to interrupt, I'm just popping in between classes to grab a book I'll need."
Jean ignored Minerva. "So?" she pressed Albus.
"Your grandmother's sister did not have children, and she was killed in the last war. Your father's sister, however, is still alive and a rather elite member of wizarding society."
"Agatha had a daughter?" Minerva asked, curiosity perked.
"Indeed she did, though being a Professor here at Hogwarts, she gave the girl an alternate surname as to not be accused of favoritism. You will of course, remember Augusta Stark?" Albus said, looking at Minerva. "She was after all, in your dorm room for seven years."
"Augusta was a Tully?" Minerva blanched. Then, as if remembering something left in the recesses of her mind till now, she burst out laughing. "Augusta failed her mum's class!"
Albus' eye twinkled. "I assure you, exactly how less than amused Aggy was about her daughter's inability to pass her Charms OWL was heard for weeks in the staff room."
Jean waved her hand. "Hey, over here? Augusta, where is she? Did she have a family after failing her mother's class?"
Albus sobered back up, and Minerva waved goodbye to them, and went back out the door and towards her next class. "Augusta did marry, and had a son. Her husband has since passed, and her son and daughter-in-law, Frank and Alice, are unfortunately residing in the long term care center at the wizarding hospital. Through Frank and Alice, Augusta has a grandson, who is a classmate of your daughter's, and a fellow Gryffindor."
Jean frowned, taking the information in and asking herself a question that had come from the litany. "Uh… how old is Minerva? If she's the same age as my aunt… no, she can't possibly be that old, can she?"
Albus chuckled. "How old do you suppose I am, my dear?"
"Oh, I'd guess about sixty-five," she replied.
"I am one hundred and eleven years old," Albus said with a smile. "Though thank you for the complement. Minerva is fifty-seven."
"Jesus," Jean uttered. "Is that a wizarding thing? You age slower than muggles?"
"We age just as you to until we reach physical maturity, around seventeen. After that, we age at half the rate a muggle would," Albus explained. "In such case, Minerva appears to be in her late thirties, and I, just as you guessed, about sixty-five."
"Well that's hardly fair," Jean muttered. "I mean, I know I look young for my age, but still…"
"It's the wizarding blood in you," Albus offered.
Jean suddenly remembered that they had no visited the topic of Minerva quite yet. "Onward then, before she gets back. I suppose you want to know my intentions toward your friend."
Albus chuckled. "I am suddenly understanding why the Sorting Hat put your daughter in Gryffindor. That said, yes, I was curious on the topic."
Jean sighed. "I will be honest – I'm not sure how I feel at this point. I care for her. I'm attracted to her. I think… I think I may be falling in love with her. But I'm scared. I wouldn't want to ask her to put me up, but if we were together, I'd want to be here, in the wizarding world with her, and leaving John means leaving the dental practice, which means I won't really have much in the way of funds to support myself. I know Minerva mentioned you have one squib already on staff, but I'm not arrogant enough as to think that a job could be found for me here, as well."
"I'm quite sure you'd be overqualified for any job I could offer you here in the castle, though dentistry is a field that the wizarding world really has not embraced as of yet, and I believe the need is there," Albus said thoughtfully. "Perhaps you'd consider opening a dental office in Hogsmeade – that's the village just off the castle grounds – should you go forward with your divorce proceedings."
"How would I even fund such an endeavor?" Jean asked, interested in the idea but skeptical of how she'd be able to upstart a new practice. "Buying a building and modifying it to suit my needs aside, I'd have to advertise, and hire a staff…"
"Your grandmother's fortune should provide you all the funds you require for both a business upstart, and for living expenses, with plenty of room to spare," Albus informed her, interrupting.
"My grandmother's fortune, as you call it, was spent on her funeral," Jean argued. "There was only a few thousand pounds left after it was all said and done."
"Her muggle money," Albus said gently. "The Tully vault at Gringots was left in my care by your grandmother, until such a time that one of two conditions were met."
"What conditions?"
"Agatha did not like your husband. I will spare you her actual words regarding his character, though since most of them were Gaelic curses, I'm doubtful you'd understand half of them anyway," Albus said. "Should you divorce him, her money will go directly to you. She did not want him to have a 'bloody red cent' as she said. If that condition was not fulfilled by Hermione's seventeenth birthday, the Tully inheritance would then have gone to your daughter, skipping over you entirely. That said, I do not believe you the sort of woman who would divorce a man based on a desire for your inheritance, which is why I've told you now, rather than waiting till the divorce proceedings were final. I merely thought that knowing that finances would not be an issue, many of your fears regarding a romantic relationship with Minerva might abate."
Jean cocked her head back and forth for a minute, thinking of all the reasons she'd been telling herself that she couldn't get involved with Minerva, and found that if money was not an issue, and John was out of the picture, she couldn't come up with a damn reason not to shag the living daylights out of the woman the minute she got back later this afternoon. Well, one reason – Hermione. She could not in good conscious get seriously involved with someone until she'd spoken to her daughter about it. She did not want Hermione to wake up to find that not only had her parents divorced, but her mother had moved to the town next to her school and was now shagging her teacher. No, that wouldn't do at all.
"It's food for thought," Jean finally said, realizing that Albus was still sitting there, sucking on a lemon drop, waiting patiently for her to come to some conclusion. "At this point my only remaining concern is how Hermione will feel about it. I'm inclined to put off even discussing our feelings with Minerva until I've spoken to Hermione, because I worry that feelings on the table, I won't be able to not act on them."
"Very wise," Albus replied. "And now, I expect Minerva will be back within the hour, and I do know I interrupted your unpacking efforts, so I shall be on my way."
"Thank you, Albus," Jean said sincerely. "If for nothing else, thank you for making me feel welcome. I know how much you mean to Minerva, and I expect you think just as much of her."
"Indeed," he replied.
Minerva was exhausted. Right after breakfast she'd gone to fetch Jean, and after that she'd had classes back to back all day, save for the lunch break, half of which had been spent detouring to her quarters to get a book she needed for the next class. Needless to say, she was looking forward to getting to her quarters, where she could remain the rest of the evening, as Albus had excused her from dinner so that she could dine with Jean. Albus planned to announce Jean's presence to the student body tomorrow at breakfast, with an amendment of her identity, which Minerva would be discussing with Jean this evening. "Jean?" she called, stepping through the door.
She wasn't sure why she was surprised – this was Hermione Granger's mother after all – but Jean was curled up on her sofa reading a book. "Hi Minerva," Jean said, looking up briefly and then returning to the tome in her hand.
"What are you reading?" the Scottish woman asked.
"Hogwarts, A History", Jean replied, eyes never leaving the page. "Figured if I've staying at the castle for the time being, I might as well learn something about it. It's all quite fascinating."
"Might I interest you in some dinner?" Minerva asked.
"Uhuh," Jean muttered, still not looking up.
"What would you like?"
"Uhuh," the squib muttered again.
Minerva chuckled to herself. "How about a game of Quidditch?" she asked.
"Uhuh."
"Would you like to go wrestle a troll?" Minerva asked, remembering Hermione's encounter with one the year before.
"Uhuh."
Minerva couldn't help but find the whole scene endearing. She wouldn't even bother to claim that she'd never been so engrossed in a book that she'd not paid an ounce of attention to anything around her. Once, Albus had resorted to banishing her clothing to get her attention. Now, Minerva thought slyly. There's an idea. "Jean, would you like to have sex?"
Jean's eyes snapped upward. "What?" she asked, looking both startled and interested in the same moment.
The Scottish woman walked the few paces to her guest and pulled the book out of her hands. "Let's have dinner, my dear," she suggested softly.
"But you just said…" Jean stuttered, gaping at her.
Minerva sighed, and took Jean's hand and pulled her to her feet. "I don't think either of us can deny the chemistry that's been building between us," she whispered tenderly. "And while we do need to discuss that fact, I do not believe we are quite ready to jump into bed. Come, we'll discuss it over dinner."
"Uhuh," Jean replied in a skeptical tone.
"What would you like to eat?" Minerva asked, nodding for Jean to follow her into the small kitchen.
"Whatever you're having, Minerva," the other woman replied easily. "Uh, where's the icebox? Or stove for that matter?"
Minerva ignored her. "Aspie?" she called.
Jean screeched when the house elf appeared out of thin air. The creature in question looked at her oddly. "Squib, this one is," the elf stated with a frown. "Is mistress wanting dinner for two?"
"Yes, please," Minerva replied, watching with amusement as Jean eyed the elf with a mixture of curiosity and worry.
"Anything in particular you's be wanting?"
"Why does he talk like that?" Jean asked.
Minerva eyed her companion. "The house elves' native tongue has a very different syntax than English does. It's actually pretty close to Latin. While elves for the most part have mastered the vocabulary required to interact with us, few of them have managed to grasp the syntax. Aspie, we'll have whatever you're already preparing for the students. No need to go to extra trouble on our account. We are merely hungry," she said, directing her attention back to the elf.
The elf remained a bit, staring at Jean with a frown.
"Aspie, Jean had just recently learned of her wizarding heritage," Minerva explained to the clearly offended elf. "She's lived her whole life as a muggle. Our customs are foreign to her."
"You is Granger Miss's bitch," the elf stated, still eying Jean with a frown. "Do not be giving us clothes."
Now Jean was the one looking offended, and Minerva again had to jump in and explain. "Jean, like in dog breeding, an elf's mother is called a bitch, and an elf's father is called a sire. It was not meant in offence. Now Aspie, if you would kindly get dinner, I will be sure to explain your customs to Jean. And Aspie, do not tell anyone that Jean is Hermione's…er…bitch. It is a secret for the time being, alright?"
"Yes, Mistress," the elf replied, bowing deeply. "You's dinner will be arriving soon."
"What the bloody hell?" Jean exclaimed as soon as the creature vanished.
Minerva sighed. "Quick version – elves are creatures of servitude, magically bound to particular families or establishments. It's how they like it, it's how it's been done for centuries. They're happy, and most wizards treat them as a member of the family. To give an elf clothing is a sign of freedom, which in a house elf's mind is a form of disgraced exile. Your daughter has yet to grasp the concept of what she views as slavery being something everyone involved is content with, and therefore has on numerious occasions attempted to offer clothing to elves, believing that if offered freedom, they would take it and be glad."
"I'm sure there's a more detailed explanation than that," Jean said after a moment, "but I think we have more pressing matters to discuss. First and foremost, I want to thank you, Minerva, for all you've done. Bringing me here, opening your home, looking after Hermione… earlier in the hospital…"
The other woman nodded, mentally cringing at Jean's mention of the incident in the hospital wing. Despite Minerva's warning to brace herself, Jean had not been prepared to see her daughter in such a state. Minerva arrived all of five minutes after Albus had sent Jean ahead, to find the mother kneeling by her daughter's bedside in complete hysterics. Minerva had done nothing more than hold the woman as she cried, but she nodded in acknowledgment of the thanks offered.
"You've done so much for Hermione and I over the years," Jean breathed. "We've known each other for seven years, you know that? I was disenchanted with John's charms before I even married the man, but you… Jesus Minerva, do you have any idea how special you are?"
"Hey, that was supposed to be my line," Minerva teased lightly, blushing.
Just then, dinner arrived, and for the next half an hour, the serious conversation was halted. Rather, Jean asked Minerva about her day, and Minerva offered to put out a selection of books for Jean to read as she sat vigil over Hermione in the days to come. She was certain Jean would be doing that during the day while Minerva was teaching, though she expected the other woman would retire with her after supper each day.
After they'd finished eating, Minerva poured two glasses of wine, and the two moved into the sitting room, sitting side by side on the couch, cuddled together much like they had been the evening Minerva had stayed much longer than needed to explain the wizarding world to Hermione and Jean, eighteen months ago. "How did we get here?" Jean murmured sleepily.
"I apparated us," Minerva quipped, setting down her empty wine glass, and taking Jean's before the woman dropped it.
Jean rolled her eyes, and then shifted her position so that she was facing Minerva. "No, darling," she whispered, slowly leaning forward. "Here."
With that, Jean's lips pressed gently to Minerva's. The Scottish woman twisted slightly so that she was not craning her neck in an effort to return the gesture. Their lips melded gently, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and before Minerva's mind could even wrap around who she was finally kissing, Jean's tongue darted forward just enough to tease Minerva into doing the same, though more eagerly.
"Jean, we shouldn't…" Minerva murmured.
In response, Jean upped the ante and crawled onto Minerva's lap, causing the Scottish woman to fall backwards, back now on the couch and Jean slipping her knee between Minerva's legs, gently pushing into the apex of her thighs. "Oh, yes we should…" she whispered in reply.
Minerva moaned. "Evil woman!"
"Uhuh," the other replied, biting on Minerva's lower lip. "God, I want you."
"You have me, love…" she uttered, all reason leaving as Jean bit down lightly on her neck. "Sweet Merlin you have me…"
"Your room or mine?" Jean whispered.
"Mine," Minerva replied, running her fingers under Jean's shirt. "Bed's bigger, and I'm pretty sure you're going to stay."
Jean pulled back and looked at her soon-to-be lover with soulful brown eyes. "As long as you'll have me," she whispered.
Minerva's abdominal muscles protested as she lurched forward, sitting upright and pulling Jean into a passionate kiss. "That could be quite a long while," she stated between kisses. "As I don't know if I have it in me to let you go."
Jean and Minerva were both half naked by the time they made it to the Scottish woman's bedroom, and fully naked when they finally tumbled onto the bed. They made love well into the night, all fatigue from the day they'd had stripped away in the face of their passion.
Minerva sighed contentedly as she watched Jean sleep later. She knew there were trials ahead, both in facing the dissolution of Jean's marriage, and in helping Hermione handle the upheaval that her family life would have become while she was petrified. Minerva was fairly sure Jean would transition into the wizarding world with ease, considering the only thing that had fazed her so far had been the appearance of a house elf. That was a small hurdle, if there ever was one.
Jean would probably start a dental practice in Hogsmeade, as Albus had suggested. She was not an idle person, and despite her considerable inheritance from the Tully estate, living the life of a socialite just wouldn't suit her. Besides, she'd need something to do during the day when Minerva was teaching, and while she had a child to mind, said child was a student at Hogwarts, and would be plenty busy during the day in her own right. So, unless Jean wanted another child…
Minerva paused in her thinking, suddenly wondering in all seriousness if Jean would want another child. With wizarding medical care at her disposal, there was no reason she couldn't physically do it, and even if down the road Jean did become a McGonagall, Hermione would remain a Granger in all likelihood, which meant that while she could inherit the Tully fortune in due time, Minerva's closest cousin would still take the McGonagall estate, regardless of if Minerva formally adopted Hermione.
The current McGonagall heiress had never before been with someone she'd even have considered having a child with, but Jean… Jean was an excellent mother, and Minerva wouldn't need to try very hard to be a better parent than John Granger had been to Hermione thus far. Of course, she would be trying. If she and Jean decided to have a child together down the road, Minerva would give it one hundred percent of her effort.
Jean was worth it. Hermione was worth it. This year, this day, this evening, this moment… they were all worth giving her all, and as Minerva McGonagall closed her eyes, she decided that one day, probably not too long from now, she was going to ask Jean Granger to marry her.
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