59: Joan Jett: 'Do You Wanna Touch Me'

Minerva/Hermione


"Minerva, this is ridiculous." Hermione began as she stood in the doorway of Minerva's private rooms, the light from the outside silhouetting her.

Minerva continued furiously scribbling away by her desk, one hand resting on her temples.

"I'm busy." Minerva stated succinctly, not raising her head, although when Hermione pushed away from the doorframe and stepped into the room, Minerva's writing hand visibly picked up its pace, the words becoming even more of an unintelligible blur.

"You've been busy most of your life." Hermione replied. "But you always had time to sort out problems."

"Well at the moment, I don't." Minerva replied, the fingers resting on her temple tightening their grip as she acknowledged the fact that she sounded like a petulant child.

"Minerva," Hermione tried, as she fully moved into the room, the door clicking softly shut behind her. She took another step towards the desk. "please..."

Before she could get further, Minerva had violently pushed back from the desk and rose from her chair, which overturned, causing Minerva to aim a hearty kick at it.

"What do you want, Hermione?" she almost shouted, her voice raising an octave higher than normal. "I am busy, and if this is going to be a continuation of your insinuations..."

"Is that what they were?" Hermione asked quietly. "Mere insinuations?"

"What do you want me to tell you, Hermione?" Minerva shrieked, exasperated, wisps of her normally prim and proper hair flying wildly about her face at almost the same intensity as her hands. "That you were right, as always; that I have been avoiding you; that I have come up with excuses not to be in the same company as you; that I am fighting a bloody attraction to you?"

As their eyes met on the last sentence, Hermione saw first the shock, then the fear, then the fire leave Minerva's eyes. Minerva's hands flopped to her sides, and she turned away from Hermione with a sigh.

"Just leave, Hermione. Spare us both the embarrassment."

She flinched as she felt a hand on her shoulder, but it was gone before she could shrug it off.

"Is that what you think this is? An embarrassment? Bloody hell, Minerva."

Hermione bent and gently righted the chair.

"I don't want you to say those things because you think that it's what I want to hear. I just want an honest answer as to why, in the last year, you have come up with an excuse to avoid every single Weasley party; every Ministry function that you could delegate; and every informal, casual invite that I would be present at. And don't tell me that I'm imagining things. I was born ugly, not stupid."

"You are not ugly." Minerva said automatically, to which Hermione smiled softly.

"Matter of opinion. Anyway, I really want to know, because the only plausible reasoning is that you cannot stand to be around me anymore, and that...well, it breaks my heart. I have come to...um...care a great deal for you, Minerva McGonagall, and I miss you."

After a moment's silence, Minerva whispered, her voice full of emotion, "I can't stand to be around you."

Hermione nodded softly, a dazed, confused, hurt look on her face. She couldn't wrap her tongue around the word why; it stuck to her suddenly dry, tight throat. She stumbled backwards, determined to reach the door before the sobs broke free, but she stopped as Minerva's voice sliced through the deathly quiet of the room.

"I miss you, but I can't be around you, and it's tearing me apart."

Finally, before she could stop it, the word left her lips, almost unbidden, a hoarse whisper in contrast to Minerva's feminine one.

"Why?"

Minerva snorted, though it could have been a sob, and Hermione saw her hands come up to cover her face.

"Do you really have to ask, Hermione?"

The silence in the room became full of tension, as Hermione, for once in her life struggled to find a response.

Minerva laughed bitterly.

"Merlin, what a mess. I told you to leave, Hermione. I never wanted this to happen."

The last sentence came out as a whisper as Minerva wrapped her arms around herself. Hermione chewed her bottom lip, then took a deep, shaky breath.

"You never wanted to tell me?"

Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Yes...no...please, just stop, before..."

"Before what? You think you ruin everything? Before I run out and never speak to you again? How old do you think I am?"

"Not old enough."

Hermione took a decisive step forward and reached out to brush Minerva's hands with her own. Taking a hold of one, she tugged gently but firmly, and breathed a sigh as Minerva finally gave in and turned around.

"Oh, Minerva. I am old enough to know my own mind."

At this, Minerva did laugh, and though she would not meet Hermione's eyes, Hermione saw the bright shimmer in them before a stray tear escaped.

"Well then teach me how, because I have walked this planet for decades longer than you, and now I'm not sure I am old enough to know my mind anymore."

Hermione entwined her fingers with Minerva's, who to her relief but also to add to her nervousness did not pull away.

"Of course you are. You're just not brave enough to listen to it."

"Hermione..."

Hermione cut her off with a squeeze to her hands and a tug, which caused Minerva to stumble closer to her. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she let go of Minerva's hands and brought her arms up to wind around Minerva's waist and rest on her back. She stepped into the embrace she had created, and rested her chin delicately on Minerva's collarbone. She breathed out, and felt Minerva's heart quicken and her breathing hitch.

"Can you feel this?" Hermione asked softly.

Minerva's eyes squeezed shut as she finally allowed her arms to raise and rest on Hermione's back.

"You're shaking." Hermione stated.

"Aren't you?"

"Yes." she whispered, her lips resting against Minerva's neck. "Because I want you. But I want you to want me. Do you want me, Minerva?"

Minerva sobbed, her arms involuntarily tightening their grip, pulling Hermione closer to her.

"Yes." came the halting, fractured response.

Hermione worked one hand into Minerva's not-so-severely-pinned bun, eliciting a gasp from the other woman.

"Do you want this?" Hermione asked as she lightly massaged Minerva's head.

"Yes."

She pressed a light kiss against Minerva's neck, feeling the racing pulse underneath the hot skin.

"Do...do you really want me, Hermione?" Minerva asked, so gently that Hermione thought she didn't really want the question to be heard.

"I want every part of you, to be near you for the rest of my life." Hermione stated simply. "Let me show you...please."

She felt Minerva stiffen underneath her, and pulled back slowly. Their eyes met, both teary and filled with a myriad of emotions.

"Do...do you really want to touch me, Minerva?"

Minerva's eyes bore into Hermione's with such intensity that she gasped.

"Oh, Gods, Hermione, yes."

Hermione reached around to grasp Minerva's hand.

"Where?"

Minerva smiled softly, though Hermione still saw the trace of apprehension in her eyes.

"Show me?" Hermione asked gingerly as she brought her hand entwined with Minerva's to hold between their bodies.

Minerva brushed Hermione's cheek with her free hand, before their entwined hands began to move, inching tortuously slowly towards Hermione.

"Where do I want to touch you?" Minerva echoed, her voice meltingly soft and sweet. Hermione nodded, her eyes moving from Minerva's to follow the path of their hands.

They came to rest on Hermione's chest, both feeling the dull thumping underneath their hands.

"There." Minerva said simply.

Hermione's eyes darted from their hands to Minerva's eyes, searching for answers, hoping she was giving them, too.

"Thank God." she breathed, as she took Minerva's other hand and brushed her lips across the knuckles. They slowly melted into each other, all the issues surrounding them fading for now as they finally acknowledged the fact that their hearts had touched each other's long ago.