Author's notes:

1. Sorry to all the Battle of Wills enthusiasts, I promise my next update is going to be that story! But I bought a nice behind the scenes book of Harry Potter where I saw JKR's chapter planning scheme which I decided to try and I had written such a nice outline for this story that I couldn't resist updating it.

2. This story is quickly turning into my most elaborate project yet. I have a total of FIVE intertwining plot lines in this story whereas previously I only had a single plot: getting HGMM together. So please bear with me :)

3. As you will surely notice, Hermione will become increasingly OOC for a good while. I promise there is a very good and very deliberate reason for that which will reveal itself by the end of the story. Until then please exercise willing suspension of disbelief :) Guesses and speculation are always welcome. Winks

4. MUSIC: As not everyone is going to like my music I am trying to reflect on what each song is meant to convey so that the story will still be enjoyable for those who skip the songs. Please let me know if I'm doing a good job with this?

Chapter Four

The room in which Hermione was kept under strict watch was barely lit, the curtains closed, the only light coming through the crack Minerva left when she didn't close the door completely. She and Poppy assumed that it would ease the young witch's suffering once she woke up, and hoped that she might appreciate the sentiment.

Minerva always felt eternally grateful for her animagus senses whenever she had to walk into a dark room. In her third year she was pushed into an unused broom closet by her peers. In their minds it was nothing more than a harmless prank, but for Minerva it ranked rather high on her list of most horrible times of her life. Unknown to her classmates, the room was occupied by a boggart and, as they had yet to cover them in Defense Against the Dark Arts, she had no way of escaping what appeared to be her father raging at her for being a witch and demanding that she give up with her sinful ways. She loathed entering dark places right up until her first successful animal transformation which resulted in her significantly improved night vision.

Of course, being an animagus had other perks as well, such as improved hearing. Even through the faltering music playing in her mind she could hear the girl's breath hitch in her throat as she caught on to the fact that someone was with her in the room.

[song1: Anything from Immediate Music]

"Wh-who's there?" Hermione croaked out, her vocal chords not as obedient as she would have liked them. She found that her throat was as dry as a parchment. Stirring weakly in the bed she turned her head in the direction of the light, squinting into it in the hopes to discover who her visitor was.

Minerva, weary after their last encounter, wisely said nothing as she walked closer. Hearing the younger woman clear her throat she reached for the glass and jug at the bedside table and offered her some water. Hermione tried to sit up but it appeared that withdrawal symptoms already started plaguing her in the form of temporary muscle failure.

The older woman took pity on the girl and sat down on the bed, holding the glass in one hand while she reached behind the young witch's back and under her armpit to help her sit. She positioned the glass to Hermione's lips who drank in as large greedy gulps as Minerva would let her.

In a matter of moments Minerva found herself fiercely blushing – yet again something she would have to mull over later. 'There's certainly plenty of that going around recently...' In her mind there was something very intimate in the way she gently held the glass to Hermione's lips while she was cradled into her embrace. The odd mixture of feeling thrilled and at the same time very much responsible for the fragile creature in her arms was something that puzzled her. In Minerva's reasoning only the latter should have been acceptable.

The thin ray of light that penetrated the darkness was enough for her magically enhanced eyes to see that some water had escaped the younger woman's lips and were now dribbling down her chin onto the covers. After putting the almost empty glass back on the table she used the sleeve of her own robe to gently wipe away the excess liquid. The gentle act of caring sent another chill down her spine and she suddenly found herself hoping that, given enough time, the bushy haired young woman would allow these small acts of kindness to form a connection between them rather than push her away again. Why she so desperately needed that connection all of a sudden was something she would have to figure out once her charge was taken care of.

Hermione, torn between feeling touched and embarrassed, cleared her throat again. Despite her current condition, she too realized the emotionally charged nature of her mystery visitor's interaction with her. A sense of gratefulness washed over her, yet there was a mixture of simple curiosity and weariness tugging at the edges of her mind. Being in a strange place and being cuddled by a strange person was certainly not something Hermione's past year had taught her to trust unquestioningly. But it was so dark in the room that she had no idea either about her whereabouts or the identity of whoever was holding her so closely. The scent was familiar, and the only reason she was not panicking was because she somehow associated safety with it, but her mind was slow and she felt groggy. "Th-thank you." She said eventually, hoping that at least she might recognize the voice if they replied.

Minerva dared not answer. Instead she just smoothed the matted hair out of the younger woman's face. That was yet another act of caring that Minerva tried to write off as motherly or even teacher's instinct, but even as the thought formed in her mind she knew that it was something entirely different. She internally berated herself for her emotional turmoil and her un-Gryffindor-like cowardice, but she was not at all looking forward to another possibly physical fight with the girl. She had regretted slapping her and she had yet to apologize for it but had a suspicion that Hermione might be volatile if she were confronted with her identity just yet.

The silence was thickening between them fast, neither woman knowing how to proceed. Hermione felt fragile and uncertain, the last few days were nothing more than a fuzzy jumble of images with frequent intervals of blackouts in between. It was the most sober she had been in a while and she was not sure whether to like it or not. Oddly enough she did not remember waking up to nightmares. 'Ch, that'd be a first...' Her thoughts were turning sour rapidly as loathsome images bombarded her mind in quick succession. Her first kill. Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry seemingly dead in Hagrid's arms. Bellatrix Lestrange. The turmoil after Voldemort died. Rogue death eaters murdering innocent people. Bellatrix Lestrange. Minerva slapping her...

Before Minerva could finally work up the courage to speak a new tune started playing inside her head, causing the words to die on her lips.

Everything is so dark
And I know there's something wrong but I can't turn the light on [song 2 – Never go back Evanescence from Synthesis album]

Yet again a melancholy song, betraying more hurt and pain than the first. Instinctively Minerva hugged the girl in her arms closer to her side. 'I wish I could take your pain away...' She thought sadly. Although she had always cared about her young lions she had yet to examine exactly why she was feeling so excessively protective of this one. Suddenly an image flashed in her mind: Hermione's furious eyes, just before she roughly smashed their lips together in a desperate kiss. She banished the thought, brutally wiping even the trace of it from her consciousness. 'THAT is not something I ought to be thinking about right now... she wasn't herself, she didn't mean it.' Minerva reasoned with herself, but to her utter horror she couldn't help but remember that her body seemed to mind the kiss a whole lot less than her mind.

The older woman could feel her body tensing, which caused the younger woman to tense in return, getting ready to pull away. It was then that she noticed the barely audible sniffs and sobs Hermione had been struggling with. 'Merlin... I was so preoccupied with myself that I didn't even notice her crying?' Realizing that the girl was crying in her arms she turned towards her more fully to give her a proper embrace, allowing the brunette witch to hide her face in the crook of her neck.

[music shifts – song 3 tourniquet - Evanescence]

She concentrated on the music the spell was projecting into her mind, as she held the crying girl close to her, unconsciously rocking back and forth in an attempt to calm her. Minerva knew enough about the spell to know that it was not a literal translation of Hermione's thoughts – if that were the case she might as well just have used legilimency on her. In an effort to at least offer the pretense of privacy the spell chose music that would act as a metaphor for the monitored person's thought patterns. The ones that had been playing since she entered the room were like a ray of hope to the animagus, as each and every one of them, while despairing and sad, gave her the vague impression that Hermione was not happy with the way she was turning out and did indeed want to be saved.

Hermione's thoughts were not as coherent as Minerva would have thought though. She mostly only wanted to forget. Forget her past, be relieved from the pain and nightmares, the shame. And she also wanted to be relieved from her future. The expectations she was not sure she could or even wanted to live up to. But in addition to the tremendous amount of self-loathing she was also grateful that the yet to be identified witch – for she was sure it was a woman – was there to hold her. All she wanted to do after the horrors she had experienced was to come undone, to be the one to be cared for, to be anything else than the brains of the Golden Trio, the perfect war heroine. It was the first time in months that she allowed someone to just hold her. She never dared to cry in front of others. Being the Hermione Granger meant that people looked up to her far too much for her to afford showing weakness.

Yet there she was, hiding like a broken creature in the arms of Merlin knew who, and it felt GOOD. Hermione wrapped her arms more tightly around the warm body for comfort, feeling more secure than she had in over a year. Yet despite the reassuring care of this unknown woman she couldn't let go of all the pain, she could not allow herself to completely break down just yet. But this body felt so nice against her own, she couldn't resist this small act of reaching out. Without thinking, she moved a hand up the nape of the woman's neck, her body seemingly having a mind of its own.

Minerva froze when she felt a questing hand move up the back of her neck. 'oh Merlin, Hermione...' She felt trapped, her hand refusing her will to move to stop the younger woman. She dared not speak, lest Hermione be able to identify her but she was certain that allowing the younger witch to roam her body was an equally disastrous idea.

Hermione's hand bumped into what appeared to be a bundle of hair and she froze immediately. 'A...a bun?' She knew all too well that from every single person she knew only one witch wore her hair in a bun. She suddenly jerked away from the previously so soothing body as if it had burned.

[music shifts – song 4 Disturbed – pain redefined]

"M-Minerva?" Hermione stuttered. The scarce images that her mind had retained from their last encounter started violently flashing in front of her. 'Oh GOD I'd kissed her...and she slapped me...' The younger witch frantically tried to put some distance between them, but she was still sore and her muscles refused to work properly. She did manage to pull away from the woman but not at the rate she had wished she could.

Memories don't lie
You're no better than
Memories don't lie
You're no better than

The animagus in question willed her hearing to breach past the violently disturbing music that now started up, desperately wanting to reach out to Hermione who pulled away from her embrace so abruptly.

"Wha-what the hell are you doing here?" Hermione had finally found her voice. Suddenly all the calm she had gained from the woman was gone, she felt angry and confused. She had no clear recollection of what transpired between them except two things: she and Minerva had been fighting about Merlin knows what and then the woman slapped her after she was stupid enough to kiss her. 'What the bloody hell did I do that for?' Through sheer power of will Hermione made her aching legs work in order to pull them up in front of her chest as a protective barrier against the woman whom she least wanted to see at that moment.

Minerva winced at the tone her young ex-protégé used, saddened by the message her body language screamed. If she were honest she had expected it but she hoped against hope that they might have a fresh start. "I'm sorry Hermione. I merely meant to check up on you and comfort you." Minerva said truthfully.

"And what made you think that I'd want YOUR comfort after what you did?" Hermione spat, her voice turning ugly with the rage and shame she was feeling. 'She bloody HIT me!' The young witch was seething. She needed her rage, needed to cling to it with both hands lest she die from utter mortification.

"You seemed to be enjoying it rather a lot just a minute ago." Minerva replied tersely. The moment the words were out of her mouth she mentally slapped her forehead. She should know better than to taunt the young woman but this blasted curse of a music playing inside her head was driving her mad. The drumming was much too violent and resulted in a painful throb just between her eyes, rendering her rather shallow reserve of patience even more meagre.

"I didn't know it was you!" Hermione ground out between her teeth.

"Would it have made a difference?" The older witch asked, already fearing the answer. The very notion that the girl would reply in the affirmative pained her more than she cared to admit. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to be able to help the talented young woman.

"What do you think?" Hermione scoffed indignantly and moved further away from the older witch. "You fucking HIT ME!" The last words were screamed hoarsely as she tried to smother the pain that came with the memory. All she ever wanted was to please the older woman, to live up to her expectations, to make her proud. 'To love h... no. No, you are not going there Hermione. She went and bloody hit you when you kissed her, remember?'

The older witch felt a guilty pang as she flinched at the fury in the younger witch. "You left me no choice..." Minerva began weakly, knowing that it was not an excuse. Before Hermione could respond anything she hurried on. "However, that does not make it right. I should never have hit you, Hermione, I am truly sorry. " 'But you should never have kissed me either...' Minerva kept the last thought to herself for the time being, judging that it was not wise to broach that topic just yet.

"A bit too late for that, Professor McGonagall." Hermione bit darkly, reverting to using the older woman's honorific, which she had not done for some time.

It hurt. The use of her title in such a spiteful way had hurt Minerva more than she was willing to acknowledge just yet. She would have to mull over the extent of that pain a little later. The animagus took a deep breath, gathered all of her Gryffindor courage, and experimentally laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder in an attempt to reach out to her. "Hermione..." that was all she managed to get out before the other witch jerked away yet again.

"Don't touch me! GET OUT!" Hermione screamed. Her voice was rapidly reaching a pitch Minerva had never heard from the woman, signalling starkly that she was on the verge of becoming hysterical.

Knowing a lost battle when she saw one, Minerva chose to relent for now, hoping that they would have plenty of time to reacquaint themselves to a more friendly relationship once Hermione was more herself. 'The goddamn potion must still be influencing her ability to control her emotions.'

"Very well. But for your information, you are currently in a heavily warded room at McGonagall Manor. Your wand had been confiscated and your are under...constant medical supervision." The older witch made it to the door as she said that, forcing her voice to sound as neutral as possible.

She waited at the door for a moment for her final attempt at reconciliation to break through but when she received no response she added, rather hoarsely. " No one knows of the true extent of your predicament other than Poppy and myself. Harry and Ronald have received but an edited version of what truly."

Although Minerva never condoned the idea of drowning one's issues in drink she felt the undeniable need to pour herself a healthy glass of Firewhisky. She was nursing the liquor sprawled on her sofa, as she stared into a blazing fire. The music constantly playing inside the animagus' head became more and more unbearable. Ever since their argument a couple of hours ago it had portrayed nothing but rage, violence, loathing, hatred. 'Merlin, she's so angry. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.'

Several minutes later she was pulled out of her gloomy thoughts by the familiar popping sound of one of her house elves appearance. Minerva shook her head to clear her thoughts, expecting to hear that she was needed at Hogwarts despite Filius' earlier message affirming the contrary. 'After all, it IS Hogwarts... chaos can break out within a matter of minutes within those walls...'

"Yes Milly?" She acknowledged the tiny house elf. She was rather fond of the ageing creature, who had taken it upon herself to befriend her and make her feel herself at home when she inherited the estate from her mostly estranged Ross ancestors. As far as she knew her pure-blood grandparents had not been impressed when their only daughter chose to marry a muggle and had completely cut their ties off. And so, it came to her as rather shocking news when an owl landed on her desk bearing the last testimony of grandparents she scarcely knew, claiming to leave Ross Manor and all that entailed to her. 'Well it's not like they had any other living relatives...'

"A Mr. Ronald Weasley is here to sees yous, Minerva. He is looks quite earnest and anxious to bes admitted." Milly replied dutifully. While she had eagerly taken on the task of making her new mistress feel at home it had taken her a long time to get used to addressing her so informally. However, Minerva was adamant, reminding her at every turn, and slowly Milly accepted that it was not a form of empty kindness on her mistress' part but a genuine request.

Minerva, if possible, looked a wee bit more aggravated than before Milly's appearance. She pinched the bridge of her nose, contemplating whether she could possibly ignore the redhead young man, before she sat up with a heavy sigh. 'I suppose I cannot...' The very fact that she had wanted to made her look at her own motivation more closely. That Ronald Weasley was in love with Hermione was blatantly obvious, as was the general population's expectation that they should marry sooner or later. But she thought the idea rather irksome which in turn made her feel exceedingly guilty. 'And just why in the world should she NOT marry him, Minerva McGonagall?' She chided herself. The animagus tried to reason with herself, enumerating all the reasons that made her think they were not well-suited for one another, but a nasty little voice had appeared at the back of her mind, taunting Minerva that if she looked at it closely enough she might have some less selfless motivations as well.

"Thank you, Milly. Let him in..." She said, resignation clear in her tone. Minerva McGonagall was not particularly thrilled to discuss anything with the young Weasley boy. 'With all this agonizing music screaming inside my head I shouldn't be too surprised if I hexed him into next week within minutes...'

"What do you mean I cannot?" Ron asked, completely dumbfounded.

"Well, the expression generally means that you are either incapable of doing something or are not allowed to. It this case it is the latter." Minerva quipped in a snarky tone. They had not been talking for more than three minutes and Minerva indeed was losing her temper. The frustration clearly evident on the ginger haired man's face reminded Minerva that she had not been particularly helpful. With an inward eye roll she attempted to rein her temper in. "Look, Ronald, she is...exceedingly fragile and completely unpredictable at the moment. I simply cannot let anyone in yet."

"But I'm her best friend! Surely she would want to see me!" Ron said stubbornly.

"Like she had wanted to see you the last few times she completely evaded you and Harry? Which is why he asked for my assistance in the first place?" Minerva inquired.

The youngest male Weasley had no comeback for that. He was still miffed at Harry for ever involving McGonagall in the first place, but he had to grudgingly admit that the woman was exceedingly efficient where they failed miserably.

"Please? I desperately need to see her." Where force and stubbornness failed, he hoped that puppy dog eyes and embarrassing honesty would prevail. "I don't know what's happened... one day I thought we were getting somewhere...and then the next it was like her personality completely changed."

Although not for the right reasons, Ron had accidentally nailed it. Minerva McGonagall was completely astonished at the boisterous young man's admission and felt quite embarrassed for a moment. 'If they truly had something going on before...' However, when Minerva lined up all the facts and arguments they simply did not add up. 'Perhaps Hermione had changed her mind but Ronald refused to accept it? She certainly didn't say anything about them to me when she was helping with the renovation of the castle...' Minerva mused, all the while racking her brain to find a way to dissuade the man standing in front of her from wanting to see Hermione.

"Mr Weasley. It is not going to happen, I'm sorry. She's just woken up today from the magical coma, she's disoriented, and the potion she's been using is still wrecking havoc with her emotions. She's volatile at best." Minerva finally settled for the truth. Admittedly it was a heavily edited version but every single word had been nothing but true. "That's my final word." She declared imperiously, using her sternest Professor McGonagall voice.

Ronald Weasley, this aspect of him had not changed much since childhood, was fuming, his ears turning red almost instantly. He considered whipping his wand out and charging through Hermione's door only to realize that he did not actually know where the woman of his dreams was being kept. 'Goddamnit...' It seemed that the only thing he achieved was alert his formidable ex-professor about his intentions as Minerva jumped from the sofa on which she had been seated and marched right up to him, promptly getting in Ron's face.

"If you so much as DARE to think about charging into that room I swear I'll hex you into oblivion Ronald Weasley!" Her eyes were ablaze with anger. Truly, when personal issues were at stake, it did not take much for her temper to get the better of her.

Yet another thing that rubbed on Ron both from auror training as well as a year on the run was to know when it is advisable to retreat. Sometimes it was much better to run and fight another day than to die trying. "Will you at least give her a message?"

"Which would be?" The animagus asked suspiciously.

"Just that I miss her. And that I hope she gets better soon so I can see her." He said, not wanting to repeat his earlier words. Meanwhile his mind was working furiously.

"I'm sure that can be arranged." Minerva consented. "Now... kindly see your self out, if you would, Ronald, I have had a gruelling day and the couple of next weeks ahead do not look even a speck brighter."

"Fine..." Ron spat disdainfully.

'What a bloody horrible day...' Minerva mused as she settled back on the sofa, nursing the same Firewhisky she had poured herself some time ago. Just as she was about to doze off her fireplace caught her attention when the yellow-orange flames suddenly turned venomous green. "What the hell is it THIS time?" She ground out, hoping that it wouldn't be Potter.

"I've merely come to check up on Hermione, Minerva. But if this is not a convenient time?" Poppy replied tersely.

"Ah, Poppy. Of course. My apologies, but I just sent Ronald packing not long ago. He was bent on seeing Hermione." Minerva explained. "However...seeing how she damn near hexed me with her eyes alone today, I suspected that any more visitors might not be a good idea."

"That bad, huh?" Poppy said, steeling herself in preparation for the hell she was likely to get from the girl.

"Well...we were actually connecting when she had to go and start exploring... her hand bumped into my bun and she started screaming almost instantly." Minerva said matter-of-factly, not even thinking about how her words sounded.

"Exploring, eh?" Poppy said, surprise and humour lacing her words.

Minerva at first did not even understand, she had half the mind to ask what was Poppy on about when her own words echoed inside her head and the double meaning of her unfortunate phrasing of events suddenly hit her. "Uh... she started crying, and I moved to comfort her. She seemed to want an embrace. And then her hand moved into my hair for whatever reason." She clarified, the last words spoken in such a rush that they were almost unintelligible. She could feel a blush creeping up her neck. 'Bloody hell...'

"For whatever reason... uhum. Well, I shall leave you to ponder these reasons, as I am sure you were doing just that when I arrived. I will be back momentarily." She gently touched Minerva's shoulder as she passed her, giving her a reassuring look.

When Poppy walked out of Hermione's room a good solid hour later she looked but a shallow ghost of her normal self. Minerva, instantly growing concerned upon seeing her friend's shaken expression, rushed to her side. "What happened Poppy? Did she hurt you? Is she okay?"

"Well... she's a right sight better than Agatha had been, the anti-toxin potions seem to have done their job. But that's about the only positive thing I have to say." Poppy replied. "She's in a foul emotional state. I'm not sure if it's a miracle or a curse but it seems she's more psychologically addicted than physically. While she is not in any immediate danger of dying from organ failure the withdrawal backlash is going to be hell, Minerva." She paused for a moment then asked "What's the music like?"

"Right now? Melancholy. Self-loathing, bleak. But when I last exited the room it was nothing but violent rage." Minerva answered.

Poppy was deep in thought for a few minutes, distractedly brushing her cheek with her thumb as she rested her chin on a propped up hand. "I think you ought to check up on her as often as you can. Anger is better than self-loathing. I fear there might be a real danger of suicide attempts." She said finally. "I shall come tomorrow to check on her again." The medi-witch stood up to leave, still visibly shaken.

Minerva grabbed her arm as she stood, looking the medi-witch straight in the eye as she turned back. "Poppy. My cousin died because NO ONE found her in time. The lot of us are just as much to blame as anyone else who knew Agatha. Do not torture yourself with the past. No one holds you accountable for her untimely demise." She said earnestly. Her coward of a cousin died because she took to that potion rather than face her reality and they had all been late to realize it. Poppy's only fault was that she was human and as such, incapable of god-like miracles.

Haunted eyes stared at Minerva's green ones for endless moments. The animagus was not quite sure if Poppy was staring at her or though her, but she held the gaze unwaveringly. She had meant what she said. Finally Poppy blinked with a sigh. "Minerva... as far as I'm concerned, Agatha died because I had told her that it was not pr-proper for me to start a relationship with an apprentice." Her voice broke over the offending word. Since then the medi-witch had often wished that she had a time turner only to go back and slap her younger self silly. Then a spark went off inside Poppy's head and she asked "Minerva...is Hermione... in such a state because you refused her?"

TBC

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