Hermione's jaw ached. She tried for the umpteenth time to unclench it, but every time she marginally relaxed, anxiety would needle at her heart again and her teeth clamped together. She stared at herself in the mirror, forcing herself to keep looking when normally by now she would have turned away. She concentrated on her eyes, and found she no longer recognised the being she found in them. Perhaps other people saw her differently, she mused. Perhaps that's why no one had ever said anything. Or perhaps, she had always been this way, and she was only just recognising it for herself. Somehow, she thought not. She remembered a time where looking at herself hadn't brought such sadness. She turned away from her reflection, picked up her bag and left her bedroom.

"Ready?" Ron asked, as she trundled down the stairs.

"As I'll ever be," she mumbled, grabbing a light jacket suited to the overcast day. She took Ron's arm and concentrated on the apparition point just outside the boundaries of Hogwarts. In the blink of an eye, they were there.

Ron nudged her shoulder when she stood still, keeping her eyes closed for a moment longer than necessary. She smiled somewhat glumly.

"It'll be fine, you know," he encouraged as the gates slowly opened to admit them. "Just like last time."

Hermione's smile tightened.

"Yeah," she replied, absently. "Just like last time."

*5 years ago*

"We don't have to go," Ron said as he wrapped his arms around Hermione. He kissed the top of her head.

Hermione laughed. "Oh yes we do! Can you imagine the headlines, the talk? Not to mention…" a shudder went through her as she mock-whispered, "Your mother!"

Ron laughed. "Well, when you put it like that! Come on, then. If we're going, I'd rather not be late."

They stood for a few moments, staring up at the entrance gates, until they opened enough for them to begin their journey along the path to the castle.

"Does it feel weird to you, coming back?" Ron asked, grinning at the first glimpse of the castle. Hermione's eyes wandered along the path, in the direction of the boathouse steps. Her breathing faltered, and she momentarily leant heavily on Ron's arm.

"In a way," she whispered, failing miserably at keeping her voice steady. "It feels like a part of me never left."

Ron, lost in his own memories, didn't pick up on the wistfulness of Hermione's answer.

"Yeah," he said, smiling sadly. "I know what you mean."

Hermione squeezed his hand as they entered the castle and made their way towards the Great Hall.

No sooner had they entered, than they were bustled back out again by Molly, out to the grounds by the Black Lake to assist Harry and Ginny with last minute preparations. They were kept so busy that Hermione almost forgot her nerves, forgot that she would still have to face the woman that had somehow managed to avoid her for the last five years. After setting out a few extra chairs and double checking that all charms were in place to protect them from the unpredictable weather, the small group relaxed for a few minutes before the real bustle began. Just as Hermione was beginning to let down her guard, her skin prickled. Holding her breath, she turned her head slowly. She had expected to see the venerable Headmistress walking down towards them in the lane between the chairs, but she hadn't been prepared for the exact effect it would have on her. Her heart skipped several beats, and she had to concentrate very hard on her breathing to bring it back under control.

Minerva nodded at the four.

"Molly informs me that you all have three minutes to smarten yourselves up."

Everyone rolled their eyes good-naturedly as they dragged themselves up. Despite her best efforts, Hermione couldn't completely conceal the shaking of what felt like every inch of her being.

Ron's voiced concern brought all eyes towards her.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Just…" she waved her hand about, "This. All of this. It's a bit overwhelming."

They all nodded, except Minerva, who held Hermione's eyes for a fraction of a second before looking away. Hermione sighed raggedly, allowing her trembling hand to be taken by Ron's. They made their way up to the dais, where chairs were lined up behind a podium. With several minutes to spare before the rest of the wizarding world descended on them, Hermione was forced to endure listening to small talk with Minerva, as she caught up on the lives of her former students. Hermione became absorbed in listening to Minerva's voice. She closed her eyes, blotting out the words but allowing the lilt and cadence to wash over her. Her heart ached as she remembered that voice, whispering in her ear, words for her only. She sighed raggedly and tore her eyes open, only to be pierced by sparkling green, tinged with sadness. Hermione opened her mouth, not sure what she was about to do or say, only thinking that she could no longer sit and pretend that this woman was the same to her as she was to her other former students. She was stopped by Harry's voice.

"People are arriving."

She closed her eyes in resignation as they moved to greet the ministry officials, and forced herself back into the moment.

As Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva took to the stand first to address the crowd. A Sonorus charm ensured that her voice reached even up to the castle.

Hermione bit at her lip to keep the tears from falling, and noted that many in the crowd were not as successful. Minerva's way with words ensured that she was addressing each individual in the crowd, whether they had fought in the Battle, lost someone in the Battle, or sacrificed something in order for the Wizarding world to rebuild and recuperate.

"It is not for me to allocate each of you with honour, or retribution, if that is what you desire. You all know what you have done, the Battles you have fought, and you do not need the words of an old woman to validate those actions or to approve your worth. Hold your heads high, remember the dead, remember their sacrifice, and yours, and live your lives with pride."

Minerva introduced Harry, and the crowd hushed once again as he cleared his throat. Hermione looked at him then, really looked, and felt her heart swell.

He addressed them quietly but clearly, the maturity of his words striking each in the crowd. Hermione's eyes glistened as she listened, almost overwhelmed by the young man stood before her, her soul aligning the little boy who, with his spiky hair and ill-fitting clothes had tackled a mountain troll, and the mature young man, who had stared death in the face and accepted it, willingly, but more than that, had professed his love to his best friend's sister, and not flinched in the face of Molly Weasley. She cried for him, and she cried to him, and when Ron took to the stand to speak for himself and her, she made no move to conceal her tears.

Ron had his own way with words; Hermione knew this, and loved him for it. If she was honest, it was one of the things that made her stay with him so long. His acceptance, even if he didn't understand.

"Hermione," he said, and she cried all the harder, "Hermione accepted everything Harry did, and she questioned it, sometimes as did I. But more than I did, she stood by him, whatever he did, whatever he thought, and whatever she thought of his thoughts and actions. I have no doubt in Harry's intentions. He is one in a million. Not even a million, a million trillion-" he stopped for titters in the audience, "Look, you know what I'm trying to say. But if it wasn't for Hermione, we wouldn't be standing here now. We might've been standing here ten, maybe fifteen, twenty years from now, but the truth is… the truth is, Hermione got us here, without her logical bloodymindedness, none of us would be stood where we are right now. So, apart from thanks, to all of you, and to her and Harry, there's not much more I want to say."

Ron looked behind him at the dais and saw everyone nodding vehemently. Hermione stood shakily to meet him at the podium. He linked his hand with hers, squeezing hard. She made no move to conceal her tears.

"I did what I had to do," she began, breathing deeply to try to contain her emotions. "And I'm not going to stand here and play it down. What we all, Harry especially, went through, was nothing short of tragic and life-altering. But I'm not going to stand here and relive it all for you, either, so anyone that has come for all the graphic details that the delightful Ms. Skeeter hasn't already provided you with, I'm sorry to disappoint. Enough reliving goes on in my mind. Today, I am here to look at you all, and remember what we were fighting for; to be thankful and remember that it was worth it. People died: good, honest people. I'm here to pledge to never forget that, and to always strive for a place where everyone can be safe and at peace, regardless of their blood status or any other differences. Thank you to each of you that are always going to contribute towards this, that will remember why along with me. To those of you that won't-" she couldn't stop her eyes from lingering briefly on the Malfoy's, who had hung somewhat back in the crowd, and didn't look half as haughty as they once had been. "-I hope you enjoy the world created for you. And I hope you see their faces, and remember those that died and those who are suffering so that you could live."

She took a deep breath, reigning in her desire to be more sharp with her words. She could feel Harry's gaze on her back, and forced herself to relax as she smiled hesitantly.

"I have wonderful friends, who have become more than family over the last years. I wouldn't be here without them. And I wouldn't be who I am without them. For which I am eternally grateful. Especially to my boys."

She turned and found herself engulfed in two pairs of bulky arms, causing her to laugh through her tears. Harry and Ron did the same. Vaguely, she became aware of the crowd cheering, and she opened her eyes to see most everyone hugging, clapping, crying, or a combination of the three. A close movement caught her attention, and she ducked under Harry's arm to see Minerva arching her wand, a phoenix blasting out in a wreath of flames flying straight up. A collective gasp rose from the crowd as the giant, majestic animal took a sweep of the grounds, before beginning to sing directly above them. Entranced, the crowd quieted, watching as the phoenix's wings rippled with golden colours. Hermione found herself stood right next to Minerva as everyone shifted for a better view. She let her hand drop, shaking, and gingerly latched her baby finger onto Minerva's. She took a ragged breath as she felt the slightest pressure back, and let the tears fall. The phoenix soared, and erupted, lighting the sky and showering the grounds in shimmers of gold. She heard sobs as people turned to hug each other. Impulsively, she shifted and pulled Minerva towards her. She held her tightly, breathing in the scent at her neck.

"I've missed you so much," she whispered. She felt Minerva's hands at her waist, and closed her eyes, only to reopen them when she felt Minerva pushing gently at her.

Minerva reached up to wipe a tear track on Hermione's cheek, then pointedly looked over Hermione's shoulder.

"Perhaps we shouldn't leave it so long before we next catch up. You two aren't half the handsome couple, aren't you?" she smiled as she smoothly eased Ron into conversation.

Ron shrugged as his ears turned pink. "She's got the looks. I'm the comedy half of the duo."

Minerva rolled her eyes affectionately.

"I'm sure you have lots to offer each other, and balance out in each other. You've fought your battles, too many of them, now it's time to enjoy. I wish you the very best, as always."

She patted Ron's shoulder, and nodded her head to Hermione as she headed towards Harry and Ginny, only averting her eyes at the last possible second. Had Hermione been able to see anything other than her world crumbling again, she would have noticed that Minerva's eyes were red-rimmed, too.

*Present*

There was less of a gathering this time, and the speeches were a less formal affair of thanking each other, and reminiscing with each other. There was no dais; everyone stood side by side, and cleared a space every time someone wanted to address the crowd.

Minerva announced that food would be served in the Great Hall whenever everyone was seated, and pretty soon only Hermione and Ron remained just within the castle doorway.

"You managed the meeting quite well," Ron said softly, jostling her shoulder. Hermione shrugged.

"I don't have many other options, do I, Ron? Smile and pretend like I'm just another former student," she snorted. "Apparently, it's not even pretending."

Ron placed an arm around her shoulder. He had seen the way Hermione had almost blanched when she came face to face with Minerva just now, after five years. Months of preparing herself had all been forgotten as soon as the Headmistress had smiled softly at them, and he had put a steadying hand on the small of Hermione's back. He also hadn't failed to notice how McGonagall's eyes had almost imperceptibly misted more than they were when she first looked upon Hermione, or how her voice had quivered when she said her name in greeting.

"I'd expected to find you Mrs. Weasley by now," she had said, and Ron, despite his frustration with the woman, had to admire how controlled she was.

Hermione paled, and Ron noticed the darkening of her eyes as if in anger. He stepped in quickly.

"We're not actually-" Hermione's hand on his arm cut him off abruptly.

"We're not decided on the details. Excuse us." Hermione had all but dragged him away, leaving Minerva to stare after them.

"What-" Ron began, but again, Hermione cut him off, her eyes blazing, this time with frustration, anger and tears.

"She doesn't deserve to know! I want her to think we're still together, because I hope… I hope it's making her miserable!"

Ron sighed, and took her in his arms as she sobbed.

Ron watched as Minerva smoothly circled the room after the feast. He saw Professor Flitwick nod and then, had he blinked, he would have missed her whisking out through the doors. He also watched as Hermione's shoulders sagged at the same time as Minerva's departure, even though she was apparently engaged in conversation with Neville. It wasn't long before Hermione wrapped up the conversation, and gravitated towards Harry and himself.

"… So many memories just in this room alone," Harry was saying. Hermione found herself nodding as she joined the tail end of their conversation. "McGonagall's said her farewells," Harry continued in a new vein as his eyes searched out Ginny and the rest of the Weasley's. "I think we'll be off soon. I'll just go around, say my goodbyes."

Ron clapped him on the shoulder and Hermione gave him a brief hug and a tight smile.

Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione once they were alone.

"Are we going?" she asked, ignoring the meaning behind his look.

"I am, soon," Ron replied. "I think you have some things you need to sort out."

Hermione sighed, raking her hand through her hair.

"She's gone, Ron. I think it's clear that there is nothing to sort."

Ron resisted the urge to roll his eyes and slap his best friend.

"She's gone. I think that's a clear indication that there is something to sort,"

Seeing Hermione gearing up to argue, he held up his hands. "Or at least something you need to put to rest, for yourself. Even if you don't speak with her, go and sort it out in your own head, because you can't live another ten years like this."

"Why not?" Hermione asked defiantly. "It's not as if I'm unhappy."

"No," Ron answered gently. "But I'd prefer you happy."

Hermione's eyes bore into his, then, and she softened.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "For everything I-"

Ron held up a hand to stop her.

"No, 'Mione. We've been there and done all this. You and I… she's not the only reason we wouldn't have worked, we know that. I want you to be happy, because you're my best friend, and I don't want to see you in pain, however dull it becomes, for the next decade of your life. So go, talk to her, don't talk to her. Just try and reconcile yourself. For your sake."

Hermione shook her head.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Ron shrugged and smiled goofily.

"Just lucky, I guess."

Hermione gave a watery laugh.

"Cover me?" she asked, heading for the doors. Ron's smile widened.

"Always."

Hermione stood outside the entrance and breathed deeply, the air thick with the threat from the overcast sky. She fumbled with the bag in her pocket, pushed in her hand, and pulled out a bottle of Scotch as she walked. She fingered it as she picked her way along the path, thinking about the same journey she had taken ten years previous, and how different things had been.

With barely a conscious thought, Hermione found herself at the boathouse, standing on the harbour, watching the gentle lapping of ripples over stones. A sob wrenched free of her constricted throat, and it seemed to jolt her into the present. She stared at the bottle in her hand for a long moment, before she heaved it over her shoulder and off into the lake with a strangled scream. She slid down against the wall, and buried her head in her knees.

"The Merepeople will have a cheap night."

Hermione looked up, startled at the presence of another. When it sunk in who the voice belonged to, her jaw clenched even as her insides rode a roller coaster. For a fleeting second, she began to scramble to her feet, then thought better of it, and let her arms fall back around her legs, willing herself to keep her eyes staring off into the distance.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, monotone. Minerva sighed and run her hand over her face.

"Much the same as you, I expect," she replied softly, staring out onto the lake. "Trying to forget and making myself remember. Or, if you're looking for the literal answer, watching you ruin yet another fine bottle of Scotch."

She glanced at Hermione, watching as the echo of the past washed over her.

She waved her hand in the general direction of the Lake.

"My bottle has already been snatched up. I couldn't face it."

Hermione lifted her head, then, her eyes cold.

"All it will bring is regret and a headache, after all."

Minerva seemed to sink. It was as if she shed a glamour charm and her face became an exhibition of all the years and pain passed between them. She sat slowly down next to Hermione.

For once, Minerva allowed Hermione to see her grapple with a sense of control, as she struggled for words.

"Where's Ron?"

Hermione barely held back a sob.

"Up at the castle, making excuses for my absence and ferrying his family out of here before they come looking for me whilst I fall to pieces, drinking myself into oblivion."

Hermione gestured towards the Lake. "I suppose I need a new plan."

Minerva frowned.

"He'll come for you?"

Hermione let her head fall back onto the wall.

"Not while he thinks I'm looking for you. "Putting it to rest,"" she air-quoted.

Minerva couldn't hide her confusion.

"He… He knows? About… what happened?"

Hermione met Minerva's gaze, her eyes challenging.

"Yes."

"And he's… ok with that?"

Hermione clenched her jaw, wanting to lash out, to hurt Minerva as she was hurting. In the end, she got to her feet, standing just outside of the Boathouse as a light drizzle fell from the sky.

"We aren't together. Haven't been for years. About four and a half. He realised we weren't compatible. So did I, but he had the guts to end it, before I dragged him down, too." She wrapped her arms around herself. "And yes, he's… ok with it. He knew there was more of a reason why I wasn't myself, after the war. It took a while for me to admit it to him, a good while after we had split up. We hadn't talked for a couple of months. I cried on his shoulder one drunken night. He's my best friend, he's been there for me."

There was a heavy silence between them for a while, Hermione hyper-aware of Minerva's shaky breathing.

"I… I thought you would be happy," Minerva whispered.

Hermione finally turned to face her, her eyes swollen from unshed tears.

"I tried," she cried quietly. "But you were wrong, you know."

Minerva got to her feet and slowly stepped towards Hermione.

"About what?" Her eyes brimmed with her own tears.

"About having fought all my battles. There was one I gave up that I should have fought with every fibre of my being. When you said, to save my fight for going to capture my life, I should have. I should have held you and never let you go, because… because you have been my life anyway. The shadow of you, always. It didn't get better, I didn't get lighter. I should have fought, and captured you."

Hermione was openly crying now, her eyes devouring Minerva's face as if she'd never see her again. Minerva shook her head, her own tears falling.

"You were so young…"

"Don't! Please, don't dismiss me with that! Tell me you never wanted me, you were caught in the adrenaline, you thought I was someone else, anything but make excuses on my behalf!"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,"

Minerva hesitated in taking another step to close the gap between them.

"For what? I need you to be very careful right now, Minerva, because honestly, you could bring me down in pieces on the floor of this damned building, and I won't have enough fight left to put myself back together. Not again."

Minerva weighed her words, before dismissing them all and launching herself forward, dragging Hermione into her arms and squeezing her tightly into her, her hands pulling and clenching at Hermione's jacket as she tried to get her closer still.

"I'm so sorry for everything," Minerva sobbed. "For walking away, for not listening to what you wanted to say, for not giving you a choice. I was scared; I chose for you because I was scared that I'd ruin you, and vice versa. I've seen too many wars, too many casualties, I didn't want you to be one because of my own wounds."

As Minerva spoke, Hermione's hands slowly wound around Minerva's waist and held on just as tightly as Minerva was, her nails digging into Minerva's sides even through her robes. She cried, hard, as Minerva continued to squeeze her.

"I thought you'd be happier - I wanted you to be happier than I thought I could ever make you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for not giving you a chance."

They held each other for a long while, crying out years of pain and regret. Hermione, waves of agony and anger rolling over her, alternated between clutching fiercely at Minerva and balling her fists into Minerva's side, her sobbing becoming heart-wrenching racks. Each time this happened, Minerva would squeeze her tighter and begin again her mantra of "I'm so sorry, Hermione… I'm so sorry," into Hermione's hair.

When Hermione felt utterly drained of her emotions, she pulled back, trying to collect herself.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, drawing a shaky breath. "It's unfair of me to take everything out on you. I could have fought harder. You weren't to know that I still wanted you."

Minerva shook her head. "I'd already put the lid on you… us. I don't blame you for not trying."

Hermione stared into Minerva's emerald orbs for agonising minutes. Minerva endured the scrutiny, giving Hermione time to construct something that was obviously plaguing her into words.

"Did… do you regret what you did? Then? Now? Please, I have to know."

Minerva took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Every single day. Now, more than ever. I was sure it was for the best, but that didn't make it better."

Hermione gingerly took a step towards Minerva.

"I… I don't want us to regret anymore."

Her fingertips connected with Minerva's cheek, and they both gasped softly. Minerva covered Hermione's hand with her own and leaned into the touch.

"Is it too late?" Minerva asked, her voice betraying her fear.

Hermione cupped Minerva's other cheek, bringing herself closer again to the other woman. Her thumbs stroked the tear tracks away.

"I don't know about you, but I don't want to live another minute feeling like I have been the last ten years. So no, it can't be too late, not if we both want this."

Minerva heard the hint of question in Hermione's tone, and closed the last of the gap between them, her lips ever so gently touching Hermione's, the simple touch causing both of them to whimper.

"More than anything," Minerva whispered, opening her eyes to meet intense brown ones.

They moved together at the same time, lips meeting firmly this time, hands weaving through damp hair. They stepped slowly backwards until Minerva was pressed against the wall. All the while keeping eye contact, Hermione worked to divest Minerva of her robe, leaving her clad in a light under-robe. Minerva's stomach clenched as Hermione's eyes turned black. She reached for Hermione, tugging at the hem of her jacket, hinting. Hermione stepped back, and Minerva's heart clenched at the uncertainty in her posture. She moved her hand underneath Hermione's chin, until Hermione met her eyes.

"I'm not going to leave you, Hermione," she stated, firmly. "I'm yours." She laughed through tears. "I never stopped being yours."

Slowly, gently, giving Hermione time to change her mind, she pulled Hermione close to her. Hermione pulled her jacket down her arms and let it slide to the floor. She brought her arms up and wrapped them around Minerva's neck, bringing her in for a long kiss. They explored each other's mouths languidly, hands around each other's necks and tangled in hair. Their kisses became shorter, sharper as the need for more air took over them both. They each wiped at the tear tracks mirrored on their faces.

"I've missed you so much," Hermione whispered, her hands pulling Minerva's hips so that they were flush together.

"Oh, Gods I've missed you, too," Minerva replied, lowering her head onto Hermione's collarbone, making the other woman gasp as her breath tickled her neck.

Their hands worked to divest Hermione of the remainder of her clothing and Minerva's robe, until they were both naked and panting, skin flushed, eyes brimming with tears and love. Hermione brought Minerva's hand down between them, coming to rest atop the heat and wetness. She gasped and arched as Minerva's fingers explored her, as if memorising every inch.

They moved together, hands trying to reach everywhere, until they slipped inside each other and it wasn't long before they were both crying out and shuddering against one another. Minerva opened her eyes first, and felt her heart speed up again at the sight of Hermione resting in her arms. Gently, she held the other woman's shoulders and turned her around.

"Look," she whispered.

Hermione smiled widely, as Minerva's hands began caressing her from behind.

The rain had stopped; the clouds were parting and the sun shone.

Sorry it took so long. As always, reviews are encouraged and I hope you all enjoyed.