I know, I know, I should be strung up by my toes in the dungeons a la Filch, but if it's any consolation, I HAVE been writing! Simply not in order, and mostly during university lectures so that I have to type everything up. If someone could send me a Quick Quotes Quill I would be able to update much faster, but as it is I have to work my magic 'wandlessly'.
So without further ado, chapter 6!
"Now you're sure you'll be alright?" Albus eyed Minerva warily as he set her down in bed after he'd insisted on carrying her from the hospital wing much to her chagrin.
"Fine, Albus. We'll be fine!" Minerva patted her belly before touching his face tenderly as she reassured him. "Now Albus, you HAVE to GO. It's been nearly an hour since you were called back!" she admonished lightly.
"Get some rest my dear," Albus kissed her forehead before standing once more. "I'll be back tonight, as soon as the meetings are over and we'll have dinner, just the two of us. Er, well four of us as it may be," he smiled down at the bulge at her middle. "I'll let Harry and Hermione in on my way out."
He left the bedroom reluctantly, and almost instantly Harry and Hermione came in. "How are you feeling, professor?"
Minerva smiled, albeit tiredly, "Much improved I believe, thank you. Now since you're here as my de-facto babysitters as it may be, you might as well call me Minerva when we're alone."
She turned back the covers, "Now Harry, if you would be so kind as to help me over to the chair by the fire it would be much appreciated."
"Oh but Pro-Minerva," Hermione bit her lip nervously, "Professor Dumbledore said you were to stay in bed and rest."
"Professor Dumbledore, or Albus as I'm sure he would prefer you to call him, says a great many things to which I pay no mind. It's one of the benefits, if not prerequisites of being a fiancée I believe."
At the pair's blank looks, Minerva had to laugh. "We've been engaged for 45 years. He proposed after we'd defeated Grindenwald while I was still working as an Auror."
"YOU were an auror, professor?" Harry burst out incredulously.
Minerva arched an eyebrow. "Minerva, Harry…And yes I was, one of the youngest ever I believe. Not to mention the first female witch to hold the position."
Hermione's response however, was more along the lines of, "45 years?!"
Minerva laughed again, this time pulling a delicate silver necklace chain from beneath her robes, revealing strung on it a two carat emerald, flanked by glittering diamonds along either side of the slim band.
She slipped it onto her ring finger, pulling it off again quickly so that Harry and Hermione could see the elegantly scrolled 'eternitas' before it faded from her skin with the absence of the ring.
"That is SO romantic," Hermione gushed as Minerva snorted, seeing the wheels turning in Harry's head that very obviously revealed his thoughts to be "AND she has a tattoo?"
"The folly of youth," she replied, a wry wistful smile crossing her face. "I believe you both are very well acquainted with it."
Harry held out his arm for the older witch to take as she rose, ever graceful, from the bed. Leaning heavily on Harry's arm despite herself, Minerva allowed herself to be helped over to the lesser squashy armchair by the fire in the sitting room, although saying 'less' wasn't really saying much knowing Albus' preferences in chairs.
Minerva sat for a moment, frustrated at how tired she still felt even after several hours in bed. "Hermione, dear, would you be so kind as to fetch the pile of essays on my writing desk in the study?" she gestured towards another adjoining room.
"Shouldn't you try and rest?" Hermione asked hopefully, despite know what Minerva's response would be. "Your health…"
"My MENTAL health will be endangered if I'm forced to spend one more moment 'resting' or in bed. This is my compromise."
Hermione sighed and headed, defeated, towards the other room as she went to get the papers.
"Can I get you anything professor?" Harry enquired as he set an equally squashy footstool down at her feet.
"I hate to ask, Harry, really, but I'd love a cup of tea. Poppy, Madam Pomfrey, has insisted I try and use less magic outside of the classroom…some nonsense about preserving my strength."
"Course, professor."
Harry returned a few minutes later with a heavily laden tea-tray. "I know, I know it's a bit overkill," he explained in response to Minerva's amused expression as she peered up at him over her glasses. "I just asked for a cup of tea and some biscuits for someone who wasn't feeling well and they gave me all this!" He gestured to the double tiered silver platter once he'd set it down.
Along with a large pot of tea, covered in an extraordinarily lumpy tea cozy, part of Dobby's legacy no doubt, there were heaped on each tier a stunning variety of biscuits and crackers as well as delicate sponges and scones heaped high with fruit jellies and clotted cream.
Minerva just smiled and shook her head slightly as she examined the overflowing contents of the tray before selecting a biscuit from the second tier. "Ah, ginger newts," she exclaimed happily, "my favourite. And please you two, help yourselves; even eating for two I'd never be able to put away all this."
The ginger in the biscuit seemed to calm her tummy, and she went back to marking the third years transfiguration essays. Harry and Hermione sprawled out on the rug in front of the fire with their schoolbooks and started on their potions essays, which were to be 5 rolls of parchment in length detailing the effects cross-cutting had on wolfsbane and how the result differed if the stalks were cute lengthwise.
After an hour or so, Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'm glad Snape is back and everything now that I know the story behind what he did, but this is a bit ridiculous. D'you suppose he's making up for the time he was gone?"
Hermione, who had already managed to fill three rolls in comparison to Harry's one and a half, smiled sympathetically but held a finger to her lips, motioning for silence and nodding her head in the direction of their professor, who'd dozed off in the middle of marking essays.
Rising carefully from the mountain of books she'd buried herself in, Hermione gently slipped the essay from the sleeping woman's hand while Harry gently removed her glasses and folded them, putting them back in their case on the side table.
"She looks so fragile like this, Harry," Hermione whispered, choking up slightly and then coughing as if annoyed at her own emotions.
"I wish there was something more we could do for her," Harry agreed, pausing a moment in thought before disappearing back into the bedroom and returning after a moment with a woolly tartan afghan he had seen folded on the foot of the bed earlier.
He laid it over her gently as Hermione cautiously transfigured the armchair to stretch slowly without waking the woman in the chair, and lengthening and reclining the seat until it more resembled a chaise so that her professor was lying down.
Hermione looked rather pleased with herself as she put her wand down and surveyed her handiwork once she'd finished. "There!" she exclaimed happily, "Hopefully that's a little better. At least her feet are up now."
The way their professor had fallen asleep, they could just see the gentle slope of her belly underneath the afghan. The pair watched her for a moment more, deep in thought.
"I don't know what I'd do if something happened to her," Hermione admitted tearfully.
"I lost my parents, Hermione. I lost my parents, and I lost Sirius and Remus," he stared blankly into the fire, his gaze so bleak and haunted that it gave Hermione chills to meet his eyes. "If, if I lose her too…" he nodded his head in the direction of the exhausted witch; "Other than the Weaselys I've never known what it was like to have a mum or dad. But if I knew what it was to have a mum, if I had to choose or name someone it would be her."
Hermione nodded sadly, the words Harry spoke so genuinely resonated in her soul as well. "Ever, ever since I had to erase my parent's memories, and even before that God forgive me…I used to pretend she was my mum. It's stupid really, I know. But it's true…And I know that I'm of age now, but no one our age lives alone yet Harry, and I can't help myself thinking that it's not fair." Hermione's voice broke at the end of her impassioned, whispered speech as she sat, looking into the flames, her knees hugged to her chest.
Harry nodded and they both turned to look at the sleeping woman who had been as much of a mother to them as any biological connection could do. They fell silent once more, arms wrapped around each other in a simple display of friendship.
Minerva had woken a moment after Harry had spread the blankets over her shoulders. Now, as she felt their gazes upon her despite her closed eyes, she tried in vain to hold back the sob that had gathered in the back of her throat – causing her whole head to ache until she couldn't stand it any longer and she opened her eyes, not caring in the slightest as one tear, then another rolled down her cheek.
She bid them closer and they kneeled on either side of the armchair, their faces guilty and their eyes darting away in embarrassment.
In an act so far removed from her usual brisk demeanour as was possible, she placed a gentle hand at the back of Hermione's head, bringing it forward to kiss her forehead as the girl bowed her head in shame, before doing the same with Harry.
"You were always my cubs, you know," she admitted wryly as both students, old and experienced as they were, flung themselves into her arms and she held them tightly to her, her own composure slipping until tears dampened the bushy hair of Hermione.
After a long moment, they sat back, each furiously dashing a hand across their eyes to try and hide their tears. Minerva felt her heart swell as big as her belly as she looked at the two young people in front of her, so experienced and worn from war and trial, but so young, so so young.
"D'you mean that, professor?" Harry asked nervously, his brave façade slipping endearingly Minerva thought to herself as Lily Potter's expressive, earnest blue eyes stared up at her.
"I do, Harry. I know I'm known as somewhat of a cold, severe figure. But, like you, it's only time and pain of life that's built the wall no one can seem to see past." She smiled, thoughtful for a moment.
"That's why Albus is so good for me…It broke my heart to leave you that night, Harry, with the Dursleys. Truly I sat on that wall all night until they found you the next morning. I couldn't bear to leave you, it was onl because I wanted you safe that I did leave. Having the most talked about magical child of the world in the possession and care of the greatest witch of the century would have brought more attention to you than would have been safe."
"And every single time, a professor in the staff lounge mentioned you, Hermione. I couldn't have been prouder as though you were my own daughter. I'm ashamed to admit that at times I took as much pride and pleasure in you as real parents would."
"You're going to be an amazing mum, professor," Harry said honestly.
Hermione nodded, looking up once again almost shyly. "You've already proven that."
Ooh fluff, how I love fluff. I did try to keep it canon though. Let me know how I did/am doing so far into this story. I have about 20000 words written, just not in the right order...
But REVIEW! And hopefully inspiration for the next chapter will come to me.
P.S. Fun fact, I went to the Harry Potter theme park in Orlando two years ago (I admit to you dear readers, I actually cried while I was there...) and I've only just now used the first piece of Hogwarts stationary from the kit I brought there to send a Hogwarts acceptance letter to my sister while she's at camp in Northern Ontario :) Pretty proud of myself, I wrote in green ink (calligraphy obviously) as per the books/movies and sealed it with red wax and an 'H' stamp.
Anyway, where was I? Damn Nargles been at my brain again. Ah yes, REVIEW!
