A bit shorter than the last couple chapters, but an update nonetheless. I didn't want to write the next sequence (teaser - where Hermione talks to the portraits again, regarding the deep vaults at Potter Manor, and Newton's report on who happened to not get hexed out the gates of McGonagall Manor when he visited...) in this chapter. That said...
"Um, you," Hermione said, pointing to the portrait two from Albus' left. There were hundreds of years worth of Hogwarts Heads on these walls, and prior to a week ago, she'd only spoken to one of them besides Dumbledore.
"Phyllida Spore," a kind looking woman replied. "First woman to become Head of Hogwarts."
"Egomaniac," Philius Nigellus snipped. "Thank Merlin Dexter succeeded you and restored the natural order of things! A woman in charge, of all things!"
"Shut it, Professor Black," Hermione barked. "You'll find no sympathy from me to that point. Now, Professor Spore…"
"Just Phyllida, dear."
"Fine, Phyllida," Hermione amended. "Can you tell me which of you have other portraits in other places, and where they are?"
"Of course, dear," Phyllida replied. "Let's see…we'll start with me, as I was the first to have a portrait done, and go down the list in chronological order. Does that suit?"
"Yes, just let me get a quill and parchment so I can write this all down."
"Ready?"
Hermione nodded. "I write quickly so don't wait for my cue to continue."
"Very well. My other portrait is in the Hogwarts' private greenhouse at Durmstrung. Dexter's is in the Wizarding Wing of Oxford Collage. Eoessa's is in the German Minister's office. Basil had an unstickable charm placed on his at the Leaky Cauldron. Amberose is in the church at Godric's Hallow. Everard is in the Department of Mysteries at our Ministry. Vindictus' was at Potter Manor in the deep vaults…"
"What deep vaults? Harry never found any vaults when he rebuilt the manor," Hermione interrupted.
"Well…"
"Forget it for now, and continue with the list. We'll talk about it later."
"Yes Headmistress," Phyllida nodded. "Dilys is in the admitting area of St. Mungo's. Heliotrope is here at the school, in the Room of Requirement, hidden unless needed. Quinton is at that French school, however you pronounce it. Phineas is at Grimmauld Place. Newton is at McGonagall Manor, where he was moved when Minerva's parents married."
"Why was he moved, and from where?" Hermione wanted to know.
"He was Minerva's maternal grandfather. Her mother was a late in life product of Newt's. Affair with an older student, if I recall."
Hermione's breath hitched. "I had no idea…"
Phyllida nodded. "Shall I continue?"
"Please," she said, mind still resting on the mention of Minerva.
"Well, Albus is the last of us to have duel portraits. His is at Gringots, in the entrance hall."
"What about Armando?" Hermione asked. One of the few Headmasters she actually knew by name and sight, and he had been missed.
Armando spoke for himself. "Headmistress, I fear that after my failure to see You-Know-Who for what he really was, while he was a boy, I only allowed one portrait of myself to be commissioned. With one, I can offer the current Head of Hogwarts my knowledge, but with two, I would have been, in a way, immortalized. I was too ashamed of my blindness."
Hermione nodded, offering no comfort or rebuke. She understood his reasons. "Thank you for your assistance, Phyllida."
"Is that all we can do for you today?"
"I have to go deal with some personal things, but when I get back, I want to talk to you about that deep vault at Potter Manor you mentioned."
"Very well."
"Oh, and Newton?" Hermione called.
"Yes, Headmistress?" a blushing, clean shaven man replied.
"Go check on Minerva, and report to me when I get back. She's been locked up at that manor for more than thirty years now, and I'm going to figure out why if it's the last bloody think I do."
"Consider it done," he replied with a smile.
"Bloody hell. You look younger than me. That's unfair," Severus Snape commented as he stepped over the threshold of McGonagall Manor. "Close the door, Minerva, it's freezing out."
"Nice to see you, too, Severus," Minerva quipped.
Severus raised his eyebrows. "So, who is it?"
"Who is what?"
"Whomever it is who has caught your fancy," Severus drawled. "I haven't seen you look this miserable since your husband died."
"First I look good, now I look terrible," Minerva chuckled. "Which is it?"
"I never said you looked good. Just younger. I, of course, am still as dashing as I always was."
Minerva leaned in and embraced her former colleague. "It's good to see you, my friend."
Severus returned the embrace and then put his hands on his hips. "So?"
Minerva scowled. "No one I can have, and therefore a moot point of discussion."
"Ah, who is she then?"
Minerva wanted to act like it didn't matter. And she was trying. But Severus would not give up, and who else was she going to talk to? She sighed. "The woman living my life."
"Hermione Granger," Severus said. It was not a question. Unlike her, he still received the Daily Prophet. After the war, and having been cleared of all crimes, the ministry had given him a substantial sum of money and insinuated it would be best if he stayed out of the public eye. Being that a life of solitude suited him just fine, he had taken the money, bought a small cottage in the countryside, and started a mail order Potions supply shop. The business kept him busy enough to not be bored, but not so busy that he couldn't relax in peace after his life of chaos and war. But, as he had to keep up with the times to stay in business, he received the Prophet, as well as Potions Weekly, and Brewers Elite, among others.
Minerva nodded miserably.
"She is divorced now," Severus said, as they walked through the main hall into the den.
"Just because she is divorced does not mean that her…personal preferences have altered," Minerva countered.
"Your preferences changed," Severus argued.
Minerva sat down in an arm chair and summoned a bottle of brandy and two glasses. "Not by any choice of mine!"
"Calm down, woman. For all you know this was destiny."
"Destiny? When Albus said that to you, I recall you sharing some very colorful bits of your vocabulary with him."
"Albus was right," Severus grudgingly admitted. "I've accepted that. If Lily had returned my affections, Harry would never have been born. Voldemort would never have disappeared for thirteen years, and may have never have been destroyed. If I had not been more or less forced into being a spy, the Order would never have had enough intel to stand a change against the Dark Lord."
Minerva sighed again, and took a swig of her drink. "Damn you Severus. I was hoping you would preach doom and gloom as usual and help me rid my heart of her. Your encouragement is not helping."
Severus shrugged. "I did my share of helping during the war. To hell with it, now."
Hermione stood when she saw Hugo walk into the small café in London they had agreed to meet at. She had not told him why she wanted to see her son; just that she needed to have a private conversation with him.
"So what's going on, mum?" Hugo asked without preamble, sliding into the booth she had selected. He was certainly his mother's son in that way.
"I know about you and Giles," Hermione stated a-matter-of-factly. No, there would be no beating around the bush.
Whatever Hugo was expecting to talk about today, this was not it. His face went deathly pale.
"I'm not upset Hugo," Hermione said quietly. "I just want to talk to you about it. I want you to tell me what exactly is going on, and how long you've known you were…"
"Gay?" Hugo gulped. "Um, since the beginning of my seventh year."
"That long? Why didn't you tell me?"
"You and dad were fighting a lot. I didn't want to…cause more trouble."
"Hugo…" Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you didn't feel you could come to me. I should have been paying more attention…"
"No, mum, it's fine. Don't beat yourself up. It is what it is." He paused. "How did you find out?"
"Someone from the Prophet saw you and Giles at a club. As luck would have it, that person told Minerva, who called in a favor to have the story squashed. Then Minerva told me, out of concern for you."
"Oh shit…"
"Hugo, you need to be more careful, if you're not ready for the whole Wizarding world to know about your relationship. And you owe Minerva a thank you owl."
"Yea, I'll write her tonight. And I know. I'm sorry you found out like that…" Hugo sighed. "I wanted to tell you…it just never seemed like the right moment."
Hermione wanted to console her son. And she knew the only way she could truly do that was to tell him that she had once considered… "Hugo, I have to be honest with you about something."
"What's that?"
Hermione took a deep breath. "While I've never acted on it, I myself am not strictly attracted to men. When I was in school…"
Suddenly, the truth smacked Hermione in the face. That was the first time she'd told a soul she found other women attractive. And in the space of a second, the 'why' behind Hermione's unshakable interest in Minerva's well being became clear.
"…and now," she whispered.
My goal for this story (which at this point I have no idea how long it will be) is to beat my current highest review count for a story. That's 92 reviews, on "The Weird Year" (A completed SS/HG, if you're interested!). I'd really like to see three digits on my review count for "The Slowed Decay of Time", when all is said and done...therefore...REVIEW PLEASE!
