Chapter 7

Hair still damp, Hermione stepped from the bathroom, feeling…tired, but her mind too charged to fall asleep. The clothes had been close to her size, perhaps even Minerva's…she had thought while dressing but thought better of it as she could not see her wearing a pair of denim jeans and an apricot colored short-sleeved scoop necked shirt. Towel in her hand she padded across the floor, the morning light filtering through the room; and she took in the splendor of the apparently aged home.

Unlike her parents, or her parents' friends, the home's walls were non-traditional and were wood…a dark, rich lively color from floor to ceiling. A large tapestry and…her eyes stopped as they saw another door leading away from the exit slightly ajar. She turned back to the doorway that led to the hallway and obviously the rest of Minerva's home, then to the bathroom and then to the doorway that led…

Curious she stepped forward…

She flipped the towel over her shoulder, hand gently pushing the door open and she found herself standing in…? She turned around…and around…it looked to be a…powder room? There were two areas…mirrors…seating areas…and one had a vanity with nothing upon it…the other…

Hair pins…

Hermione swallowed…as her eyes landed upon the all too familiar gold rimmed square glasses and then her eyes landed upon the adjoining, partially open door.

She couldn't stop herself, and with shaking fingers she pulled the other door fully open to see a large spacious sitting room, albeit dimly lit, she could hear the faint cracking fire, and…she stepped forward. Stopping almost immediately as her eyes landed upon the oversized bronze leather chair and ottoman; which housed the normally vivacious woman…asleep.

And Hermione's breath caught at the sight.

Gone was any and all pretense of the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Mistress of Transfiguration and one of if not the sternest professor or person in the wizarding world. There, dwarfed by the leather furniture was a picture of…beauty.

Black hair spilled outward - she was asleep, perched up against the side of the chair…her body wrapped in an ivory robe…legs bent…knees and feet upon the ottoman and uncovered. Hermione felt her cheeks flush as her eyes slowly trailed up Minerva's legs…noticing the finely honed muscles of her calves…her knees…and the way the robe had been half-heartedly tied at her waist…the way the v along her neck line dropped to show…

Hermione jerked her gaze to Minerva's face. It was so…serene…expressive…

And then she noticed the end table, the mostly empty glass, and equally empty decanter...and Minerva moaned as she shifted…a flash of pain crossing her face.

Hermione glanced to where Minerva's left hand laid…and the way she herself was laying… Her ribs. She realized with startling clarity, She hasn't been treated for her ribs.

"…" Hermione stopped, not knowing if she should address her as…and shaking her head at her own absurdity, she started again, hand gently reaching out to touch Minerva's left shoulder. "Minerva."

The response was immediate.

Minerva jerked awake, eyes snapping open…pain flashing across her face as she moved, hand tightening around her ribs…and then emerald orbs landed upon brown ones, and a steady breath was exhaled, "…Hermione…" She eased her sore body back into the chair. "How…" Minerva didn't know what hurt worse, her head or her ribs, her voice thick from both sleep and the pain. "Are you feeling?"

"The more important question is how you are?"

Murky green eyes blinked, "Actually…your welfare is far more important."

Hermione felt her breath hitch at the emotion exuding from Minerva's eyes. "I'm fine, thanks to you." Hermione whispered in response.

Relief was evident immediately upon Minerva's features as her eyes fluttered closed, "I need a bit more sleep," Gingerly she shifted in the chair trying to ease the throbbing in her side, knowing that this afternoon when she spoke to the Auror office about what had transpired; she would be taken into custody and sleep would then become a luxury. "If you need anything, ask for Tilx."

Hermione frowned, "Tilx?"

Minerva nodded, "A house elf."

Hermione opened her mouth to begin spouting about house elves rights, but at seeing Minerva involuntarily flinch stopped. "Do you need to a see a healer?"

Heavy eyes blinked open, "I shall be fine…Hermione."

"And your ribs?"

"A bit sore." Minerva admitted, "Now…" She utilized her decades of experience, voice becoming steel. "If you will…"

Hermione fought her initial instinct, to obey her professor's voice, "Let me see your side." She quietly interjected.

The last vestiges of sleep were now gone from Minerva as were most of the effects from the copious amount of alcohol she drank earlier to dull the pain in her side and to momentarily black out her thoughts regarding what had happened. "Excuse me?"

Hermione stepped around the chair and away from her left side, to come closer to the area she recalled Minerva holding last evening. "Your right side," She lifted her eyes from the protected area to find challenging emerald eyes. "Let me see it."

Brow arched, "It shall be fine, Hermione."

"I know you were…" She fought back her own tears as she forced the awful truth from her lips. "Struck several times by…the Cruciatus curse, Minerva. And Bella's…" She swallowed hard as pushed the dreaded memory aside, "Had been cast with such ferocity."

Perhaps it was her eyes, Minerva mused, that had been her undoing last evening. They were so expressive, so gentle…so carrying; and they reminded her of someone else's eyes, except they were brown versus Amelia's sea of blue. As again tender eyes stared down at her, waiting…hoping…and Minerva was truly too tired physically and magically to hide behind professional detachment. However, she was also acutely aware of how bad her chest and ribs had looked last evening, and knew they would be far worse today from the bruising; and the last thing she wanted was for Hermione to feel worse about the situation than she already did. "It will heal, dear." She stated softly.

Hermione's eyes shifted away from Minerva's to her side, "How bad is it?" She asked, slowly raising her eyes back to Minerva, suddenly realizing that she hadn't moved since waking and dread filling her bones. "You aren't dying are you?"

In some ways life would be far easier if I were, Minerva silently replied. "No, however I will need a few potions later this morning, but I need sleep first."

"Do you need anything else?" Hermione asked, feeling…useless as she stared down at the woman.

Minerva barely shook her head no, "Just some sleep." She murmured, eyes already fluttering close.

Hermione remained there for a few minutes, quietly watching…believing that Minerva would not feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep in her presence, and…she probably wouldn't have; but with everything that had happened it made sense. She had been physically tortured, had expended tremendous amounts of magic, emotionally drained…Hermione shifted her thoughts as the lines eased upon Minerva's face…sleep taking hold. Hermione unabashedly stared at the older woman's sleeping form, and how vastly different the woman before her was compared to the Professor she knew. The woman…appeared…well…sensual, beautiful…strikingly beautiful; while the Professor seemed to cover or hide the beauty beneath her long voluminous robes and…

Her thoughts were jilted as Minerva moved, a light moan slipping from her lips; face pinched momentarily in pain. And Hermione turned quietly on her heel to leave Minerva, not really wanting too, but knowing she needed to…for Minerva's personal welfare. And after everything that Minerva went through to save her; she was not going to let her be in pain.

"Tilx." She stated as she stepped into her bedroom.

Almost immediately a stout well dressed elf appeared beside her, "Yes, Hermione. What can I help you with?"

"Thank you for the clothes, and…" Her eyes darted to the partially closed door separating her from Minerva, missing the slight bow of the elf. "Is there a floo here I can use?"

Tilx took a deep breath, he knew that the young woman was not held here; but he also believed the Mistress did not wish her to leave quite yet. "There is." He stated with reservation.

Hermione turned back to him at once, "Minerva needs medical assistance…"

Tilx blinked at the young woman, disbelieving. It was quite rare for the Mistress to bring anyone home, and…for that person to care and want to face her wrath regarding health concerns…was even rarer. Few persons crossed Minerva regarding her personal welfare and succeeded, however, two of the three were now dead. The third… "She indicated that perhaps today she would seek a healer's assistance."

"She's hardly moving, and looks to be in a great deal of pain." Hermione stated, "Is there a healer at St. Mungos or…"

He shook his head, "I shall get someone." And before she could ask what he meant, he was gone in a flash.


Oxox


Hermione stared at the stately woman who had arrived a mere moment ago. She wore rich silver and maroon robes, blond hair that fell just past her jaw and deep blue eyes shielded behind a pair of oval silver frames. She had seen a picture of her somewhere, and she hated to think of where…Ron's chocolate frogs…perhaps a picture in the Propeht?

The older witch arched her blond brow, "Where's Minerva, and who are you?"

"Ahhh…" Hermione cleared her throat, "Hermione Granger and…" Hermione's eyes darted to the doorway. "She's in her room."

The woman went to move but stopped, "Tilx stated that there was a duel last evening, and she had been hurt." Worldly eyes roved over the younger woman, "And you. Are you alright?"

Hermione nodded, as she was physically…alright. As for the rest…she wasn't ready to discuss with anyone yet what had happened…and even when she was, the first person she wanted to talk with was, Minerva.

"Well, speak up dear." The woman stated drawing closer, wand already out.

"I'm fine. Minerva, though, is having difficulty…moving."

Blue eyes peered intently into brown ones, reading…measuring…and Hermione swallowed feeling herself suddenly want to tell the blond headed woman exactly what happened, but the feeling ceased as she spun away. "Do you know what spell hit her and where?"

"The…Cruciatus curse." Hermione's voice quietly uttering as the other woman paused, fingers on the door, turning back around.

"What?"

Hermione suddenly felt her breath leave her body as blue eyes whirled around and met hers; concern and worry evident. "The Cruciatus curse…several to be exact."

Eyes narrowed, "Did this have anything to do with the Billings home?"

"Who?"

She shook her head, "Never mind." She muttered, "I'll ask Minerva." And she stepped through the passageway, not recalling a doorway here; but it mattered little. She doubted she would in the personal wing of the Manor again, as this was only the third time in their lengthy friendship she had ever been on this side of her home. One time had been regarding her health after Grindlewald, the other…Amelia's…

She felt herself pause at the doorway, noting her friend's unusual attire. Granted, she saw her very rarely in a relaxed stated, something that even Amelia used to chuckle at…how different Minerva was when they were alone versus with friends. According to Amelia, it was as vast a difference as between her interactions at Hogwarts and her friends as between her friends and…Amelia and one or two others.

She had always wanted their friendship to be deeper, but…their lives were so very different; that she cherished the friend for who she was and understood Minerva's reservations about being closer. And she couldn't help wonder why Mr. Potter's young friend was here…? Why hadn't Minerva sent her home after the event? Or…she stopped next to Minerva as she scanned her friend with practiced eyes. Had she been too hurt to take her home? She could tell part of Minerva's rib cage had indeed been compromised, and…she sighed. She needed to take Minerva to St. Mungos. And she couldn't help but inwardly cringe at the notion, she was the epitome of a horrible patient, and if things regarding Amelia were different…she would make arrangements for Minerva to remain home for the better part of the week; and away from her staff.

With a gentle flick of her wand, a diagnostic spell left its tip…and she felt the frown upon her face deepen. Compromised didn't begin to describe the right side of her rib cage. "What…in Merlin's beard happened to you last night?" She quietly whispered, momentarily forgetting about the young woman.

Green eyes hazily blinked open at the noise, "Her…moine?"

Hermione went to step closer, but the elder witch's hand stayed her movement. "She's here, Minerva."

Minerva knew that voice, and forced her mind to the brink of consciousness. "Helena," She licked dry lips, "What…"

Brown eyes widened in realization as to who the woman before her was…Helena Harrison, the new Administrator of St. Mungos…as her blue eyes snapped to the decanter and back in a heartbeat, "What would possess you to drink alcohol with your injuries…?" She sighed, "And why didn't you come in last evening?"

"That's my fault." Hermione stated before Minerva had an opportunity to say a word, "I…" Her eyes darted to Minerva's and then back. She wasn't ready to talk about what happened…and… "Fainted upon arriving outside…" She recalled large gates as the world whirled around her, her stomach nauseas… "Minerva's home. She had apparated us away…from Hogwarts and…the danger…and I…remember floating…"

Helena turned to Minerva who seemed to be staring at Hermione, disbelieving. And Helena herself, was dubious of the story, as to have been struck with several Cruciatus curses and to have walked away…and…then there was the very real abnormality that the young woman, a student, had addressed her; informally.

"It was barely noticeable last evening." Minerva replied, side stepping the whole of the previous conversation. "And as for the drink, it had been a long night; Helena."

Helena met murky green ones, and made a decision. "I have a feeling that I do not want to know, and that it correlates to what happened at the Billings residence last evening." She said stepping closer, "And if does, I do not want to be involved nor have any knowledge."

"The Billings?" Minerva questioned, a wince flashing across her face as her side pulsed.

"Their home was destroyed, their bodies found in the field just beyond, but the Ministry has found the burnt remains of three more bodies within the home; apparently caught in the fire or killed prior to."

Minerva inwardly cringed, she had known the home had looked marginally familiar last evening. But…Jorge and Marge…she mentally pushed aside her thoughts for later. "Dark Mark?" Minerva wheezed.

"No mark." She replied, "I need to get you to St. Mungos for treatment."

Minerva met her friend's gaze, "It'll be moot, Helena. I need to go the Ministry regarding last evening."

"File a report, Rufius will send a few Aurors to follow-up. But I need to treat you and have you supervised for the next 48 to 72 hours…"

Minerva went to interject, but Hermione stepped forward, "Can you treat her here, and…" She felt Minerva's eyes land upon her as Helena's blue one turned to her. "I'll…keep an eye on her."

Not even a pin drop was heard as both women absorbed what Hermione had proposed. Helena far quicker to recover, easily acquiescing. "I have no problem with that; so long as Minerva will listen." She turned to the unmoving woman, "As she is not the most, pleasant patient."

Minerva didn't know what to say; what could she say? No? I don't think that is wise…as I need to…what…expedite my trip to Azkaban? As…the very woman who volunteered to assist me…I…she closed her eyes, shame pulsing through her; causing her heart rate to increase and her side to ache…if at all possible, worse. And why was she volunteering to help her? Because…of last night? Because…of what happened…? She felt a tear trail down her cheek, originating from the pain in her side or…her thoughts…it mattered little.


Oxox


Helena paused outside of Minerva's door, meeting Hermione's gaze. "She should be fine. However, she is going to probably sleep for the whole of the day."

"What do I need…to do?"

Helena peered intently into brown eyes, "What happened last night, Hermione?"

"I…" She blinked back tears, "I told you." She whispered, "Already."

"I don't care what you and Minerva tell the damn Ministry; but…Minerva was tortured. And I have half a mind to do a complete diagnostic upon you, to see if you were too."

Hermione felt the tears, her voice breaking slightly. "She saved me."

"And were you tortured?"

"I…was forced to …hurt…Minerva."

"The Imperious curse?" Helena asked.

Slowly, Hermione nodded. "Yes." She answered shamefully.

"She does not blame you." Helena stated, placing her fingers gently beneath Hermione's chin, guiding brown eyes back to hers. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be in her home."

Hermione blinked through the tears, nodding.

"Now, the truth, were you tortured?"

"No." She whispered.

"But something happened last night." Helena surmised from the troubled gaze in conjunction with her medical diagnostic of Minerva.

"A lot happened last night." Hermione replied.

"True," Helena agreed and from the set of Hermione's chin and the glint in brown eyes, she knew that the young witch would not divulge any additional details of what had transpired. "But there will come a point when you need to talk about what did happen."

Hermione met blue eyes, "And when that time comes, I will. Now, what do I need to do to help Minerva?"


Oxox

A/N: Yes…I have stolen one of my characters, Helena Harrison (and perhaps her husband too) from Bonding. Yes, she is slightly different than the one in Bonding, just like Minerva is slightly different. They are different women, but…she is in essence, the same no nonsense…straight to the point, healer, good friend…etc. And as I tire of always having to create *new* base characters for various positions…and I do like her character…so…be prepared…she'll probably crop up in other stories too (and more of this one). P.s. hope you enjoyed :) See ya next week with an update to Bonding…(darts off to starts frantically begin typing on that story)….