AN: Thank y'all so much for reading this.
HOUSE OF CARDS
Chapter Six
Hermione's dark eyes followed every movement the slim witch made as she lithely slid onto the bench opposite her. A small smile quirked up the corner of her mouth as Minerva began to expertly open the bottle of firewhiskey she'd brought to the table.
The older woman paused in her movements as intense green eyes focussed on the drink that the younger witch had been nursing. Raising an eyebrow, she reached across the table and grasped Hermione's full glass, "There is nothing worse than sitting there staring at a perfectly good glass of firewhiskey." With that, she raised the drink to her lips and polished it off in a single gulp.
"Firewhiskey is meant to be drunk not stared at."
It sounded so much like the older witch was in teaching mode that Hermione snorted, "So sayeth Professor McGonagall?"
Minerva smiled as she began to pour the contents of her bottle into the glasses she'd brought, "So sayeth my father."
A knowing grin made its way over her elegant features, "It was one of the few lessons that I actually learned from him."
Snickering, the chestnut haired witch accepted the full glass from her former professor and took a sip.
Nodding her approval, Minerva proceeded to do the same.
Hermione's dark eyes took on a curious gleam, "What other lessons did you learn from him?"
Emerald eyes twinkled as the Headmistress replied, "Oh the usual... how to fly a broom, how to keep my kilt on straight, um..." A mischievous grin turned up the Headmistresses thin lips, "... how to ask permission before mauling a beautiful woman..."
Hermione was in mid swallow when Minerva had said that last bit. Laughter bubbled up causing the young woman to spew her drink across the table.
Minerva stared at the mess her companion made and added, "And how to swallow before laughing."
Blushing, Hermione reached for the napkin holder at the end of the table. Plucking a few out, she began wiping up her mess, "Sorry."
Minerva reached out and captured her hand causing the young woman to pause, "Never apologize for laughing at something I say. I am not known for my humour." A cloud of... something settled over the older woman's features for a moment.
Hermione twisted her hand around and squeezed back, "Only to those who don't know you."
"And you do?"
Shaking her head, "Better than some but not as well as I'd like."
A dark eyebrow rose as Minerva asked, "Are you flirting with me?"
Laughing, Hermione took another sip of her drink, "No. Not really." She looked into curious green eyes, "Just hoping to get to know you better." Another sip was taken before she added, "Then I might start flirting properly."
Minerva threw her head back and laughed deeply. A good long hard belly laugh. Something she hadn't done since before Dumbledore had died.
Rosmerta looked up from her place at the bar. She could hear Minerva laughing at something Hermione had said. Smiling, she congratulated herself on her move of sending Minerva to the young witch's table. Both women looked like they could use a friend.
Maybe they had just found one.
Relishing the flavour of the fiery drink, McGonagall set her empty glass down and stared across the table at her companion, "So what brings you here?"
Swallowing down the contents of her own drink, Hermione paused as she felt the spicy liquid travelling down her throat and into her belly with a pleasant burn. Looking up, she saw Minerva's inquisitive green eyes fastened on her.
"Ron and I needed some time apart."
Raising an eyebrow, the elder witch reached for the bottle and refilled their glasses, "Things are not going well then?" She already knew this from her conversation with Harry and Ginny, she just wanted to hear it from Hermione.
Sighing, Hermione closed her eyes for a moment as she mumbled, "That's an understatement epic proportions."
The ensuing silence caused her to open her dark eyes to see her companion with her head cocked, waiting. Pinching the bridge of her nose to stave off the headache she felt coming on, the young woman proceeded to tell her mentor what had precipitated her move to the Three Broomsticks.
Minerva sat in shocked silence as she listened to the young woman detail her existence as Ronald Weasley's wife. Her eyes darkened with the anger she felt building as she watched silent tears slide down Hermione's cheeks.
Finally, she shook her head, "If life is so difficult with Ronald, then why stay?"
Chocolate eyes glazed over as she pondered her mentor's question. The young witch sat for several moments in silence. She could hear people coming and going as business picked up in the pub. She could even hear Minerva's increasingly heavy breathing as the older witch struggled to control her anger.
Finally Hermione rubbed a tired hand over her face and fastened melancholy eyes on her former professor, "I just want one thing in my life that I'm not a failure at."
Her hand was suddenly grasped within the firm grip of the Headmistress. Startled dark eyes gazed into fiercely sparkling green.
"Now you listen and listen good young lady. You are NOT a failure! You are one of the most brilliant witches it has ever been my pleasure to teach."
Hermione blinked as she whispered, "Pleasure to teach?"
Nodding emphatically, the older witch replied, "You were the kind of pupil that a teacher dreams to have. Someone who soaks up what you are trying to impart and learns from it. Someone who takes that knowledge and improves upon it."
Minerva shook her head, "Every single professor..." She paused and added with a smirk, "Well except Sybil..." She chuckled as she saw a smile brighten the younger witch's face, "Every professor except Sybil used to go on and on about your prowess."
A dark eyebrow quirked, "Even Snape?"
Nodding, Minerva replied, "Even Severus. He was not as demonstrative in his praise of you, but I had never heard him say that any of his other students was adequate. Coming from Severus Snape that was practically an ovation."
The elder witch let go of Hermione's small hand and sat back with a challenging expression on her elegant face. A tiny voice in her head commented on the softness of the skin of Hermione's hand. Startled at that thought, McGonagall crossed her arms over her chest in an unconsciously protective stance.
Hermione didn't notice, she was too busy mulling Minerva's words over and over in her head. Thoughtfully, she rubbed her scarred forearm against the edge of the table.
Seeing this, Minerva once again reached across the table and grasped the young woman's wrist. Pulling Hermione's arm towards her, the Headmistress lay it elbow down. Using her own strength to keep the other witch from wriggling free, she pulled the chestnut haired woman's sleeve up and pointed at her scar.
"Even bearing that does not make you a failure."
Hermione's dark eyes narrowed as she hissed angrily, "Let go." She tried to wrench her arm from the iron grip of her mentor but all she managed to do was cause Minerva to tighten her grasp.
Emerald eyes pierced Hermione's soul as Minerva whispered, "She could have killed you, but she did not."
Nostrils flaring, the young witch retorted, "Only because I was less important to her. She wanted to know how the Sword of Gryffindor went missing from her vault."
Dark eyes went unfocussed for a moment as Hermione remembered the torture she'd endured as Bellatrix sought to discover just how the trio had the sword in their possession. Quietly, she added, "I'm fairly certain that had her interview with Griphook not been interrupted, she would've gotten around to finishing me off."
There was a resolute expression on Hermione's face that caused a faint shudder to ripple through Minerva.
Seizing on the Headmistress's distraction, the young woman wrenched her arm free. Pulling her sleeve back down, she growled, "It doesn't matter anyway. It's a cursed mark. Made by a knife spelled to inflict the most pain, the most punishment. The scars it makes are permanent."
Minerva leaned in, "But it does not mean anything."
Hermione growled, "It means everything!" She watched emerald eyes widen at the vehemence in her statement. Pointing at her arm, she continued in a low, angry voice, "It means that I will always be different. That I will never belong." Tears began to well up...
"It means that no matter how clever I am, I will never be anything more than a mudblood."
Minerva watched as the young woman slid out off of the bench and hurried back up the stairs. Looking over to the bar, she saw Rosmerta mouth the words, "GO AFTER HER."
And she did.
Hermione was staring out of the window as she unconsciously rubbed at her scarred forearm when she heard a soft knock. Sighing, she walked over to the door and stood for a moment just looking at it.
A minute passed, then another soft knock. This time, the young witch heard Minerva's voice, "Hermione, open the door."
It was softly spoken but there was no mistaking the command...
Open the door. Now.
Frowning, Hermione pulled the door open saying, "Look Professor, I don't want to talk about it anymore."
Minerva stepped into the room before the young witch could slam the door in her face saying, "Well that is just too bad young lady because you NEED to talk about it."
Hermione huffed angrily, "Well that is certainly the cauldron calling the kettle black now isn't it."
Minerva frowned, "What do you mean?"
Hermione snorted as she went to sit on her bed, "Oh come now Professor. What was it I walked in on not too long ago?" She was referring to the argument between herself and Rolanda Hooch that she'd interrupted.
Minerva stood stiffly, her fists clenched tightly, "That was Hogwarts business."
Hermione snorted again, "Oh so the Flying Instructor knocking the Headmistress on her ass was Hogwarts business? Interesting way to run a school Professor."
Minerva shook her head, she was not going to allow Hermione to change the subject, "Rolanda and I worked out our differences."
She rocked back on her heels a moment and added, "As a matter of fact, she had a muggle punch bag installed in one corner of my office."
Hermione's mouth quirked up in a surprised smile at this revelation. In her mind, she pictured a thoroughly ticked off McGonagall beating the crap out of the helpless punching bag. A small giggle escaped her plump lips.
"You find this amusing?"
Hermione nodded as she stood, "As a matter of fact, I do." The young woman walked to a cabinet by the door and opened it. Minerva could see a number of different bottles of liquor inside.
Smiling, the young woman pulled out a bottle of Ogden's, "I think this would be a step up from firewhiskey."
The ebony haired witch nodded as she conjured two glasses from a pair of earrings on the nightstand, "Indeed."
Hermione's dark eyes reflected shock, "They were my favourites!"
Minerva shrugged, "And they will be again, once we are through." The elder witch walked over to the younger and took the bottle.
Hermione grumbled as she walked by McGonagall, "Yeah and you'll be so drunk that they'll probably end up as two left footed trainers."
Minerva smirked, "We shall see."
Several hours later...
Hermione leaned against the pillow she'd placed behind her back as she rested against the headboard of the surprisingly comfortable bed. Minerva had mirrored her actions after first removing her boots.
The two witches had polished off the Ogden's and were now working on a bottle of Jura.
Minerva gazed fondly at the bottle in Hermione's hand, "You know I nearly stole Alfons Jura's wife once upon a time."
Hermione snorted liquor through her nose as she cackled madly, "Whut happened?"
Her eyes were so large. They looked like two perfectly round chocolate bon-bons and Minerva remarked as such causing Hermione to guffaw loudly.
The young witch was laughing so hard that tears fell from her cheeks. She looked over at Minerva to see the stupidest grin she'd ever seen on the witches face.
Pointing at Minerva's imitation of Rubeus Hagrid's famous drunken smile, the young woman howled her laughter as she fell against Minerva's side.
"Now this is rather nice." The Headmistress remarked as she placed her arm around the shaking shoulders of her companion.
Sitting up, Hermione's impossibly large eyes got even larger, "Are you flirting with me?" Repeating the words that Minerva had uttered earlier with a devilish grin on her face.
Emerald eyes became just as large as her own as she watched Minerva place a hand against her chest and mock swoon, "Certainly not! What would the ministry think? Oh my word!"
Hermione snorted as she sat back up, "Since when did you ever give a flying fig what the ministry thought?"
Minerva smirked as she took a sip of the Jura, "Since never my dear." There was a glassy look in her emerald eyes that told Hermione that Minerva McGonagall was well on her way to being completely sozzled.
She knew the same was true for herself as she let out a loud belch.
Looking somewhat offended, Minerva sniffed, "So ladylike," Seconds later she let loose an enormous belch herself.
Hermione giggled as she took the bottle from her mentor. Eyeing the witch next to her, she asked, "So how are you getting along anyway? You haven't hexed Trelawney have you?"
Minerva sighed, "No. There are times when I would like to, but I have not." She paused as she looked into warm chocolate eyes, "I am learning to control my temper."
Hermione nodded sombrely, "I imagine it was quite hard on you." She was referring to what McGonagall had gone through whilst she, Harry and Ron had been on the run.
Minerva took the bottle back, "I am dealing with it." With that, she tipped her head back and finished off the bottle. Smacking her lips she stated, "Another dead soldier."
She placed the empty bottle on the night stand on her side of the bed; right next to the other two bottles they'd emptied.
"We have been quite naughty my dear." She whispered, not sure she was talking to herself or Hermione. Not hearing a reply, she turned to her companion only to see the young witch sprawled quite inelegantly on the bed.
Unconscious.
Passed out drunk.
Quietly chuckling as she unsteadily climbed out of the bed, the older witch mumbled, "Lightweight."
Finding a blanket lying on the floor, she picked it up and placed it over the sleeping young woman.
As she stood, slightly swaying, she spied the empty glasses on Hermione's nightstand. A wicked grin made its way across her face as she transfigured them into two left footed trainers.
Snickering, she picked up her boots and tip-toed to the door. Gazing once more at the young woman lying on the bed, the elder witch's eyes went soft as she whispered, "Sweet dreams my dear." Opening the door, she stepped into the hall and gently closed it behind her.
-to be continued
AN: Sorry for the delay. Will try to put out another chapter soon. Not sure about next weekend though as I'll be running in the Race For The Cure. Three years cancer free and damn proud of it! Thank you Marble for your generous contribution to the cause!