Chapter 8
Minerva rolled over, her side catching…and any thought of drifting back to sleep was gone. She needed to get up, she directed to herself, despite her high level of fatigue. Her side, while whole, and much better was still…incredibly tender. And no doubt would be for a day or two. But that was the least of her problems. Her guts twisting at what she would be doing shortly, about the statement she would be making to the Ministry…about spending the next several days being questioned by Aurors and then the Wizengamout…and the very real, very painful reality that she would never again see the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, and it would be some time before she would again…be within the sanctity of the Manor. With a breath, she pushed aside those thoughts…self pity does not become you. You made a decision last evening, she silently thought. And knew the consequences of that decision…
Shifting, she went to get up, but stopped…as she heard movement. Her muscles immediately tensing, left arm drawing out over the covers to hold them to her as she sat up…acutely aware of her lack of attire, as her sense of smell realized whom the occupant was. Hermione.
Instantly her eyes confirmed that indeed the younger woman was in her rooms. From the intermingled scents, it was also easy to deduce; she had been within her rooms for some time. Waiting.
"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked, drawing up to the bottom right edge of the bed, attempting not to notice that Minerva's shoulders were bare.
"Better," Minerva cleared her throat, trying to dissolve her own unease with the situation. "Though, my side remains…stiff."
Hermione felt herself ringing her hands and jammed them into her jeans pockets, "Helena asked…" She took a step forward, eyes leaving Minerva's to the bottles. "When you woke that I…place a salve upon your ribs and…administer two potions."
"Hermione, there is no need as I can ask Tilx or…."
Hermione shook her head, "I…" She stopped beside Minerva, keeping her gaze level upon emerald eyes. "After everything you did…for me, Minerva." She fought back her own tears, "Please, let me help you."
Minerva began to shake her head, "Hermione…I did nothing…"
"You saved both of our lives." Hermione whispered, "How can that be nothing?"
Minerva met emotional brown eyes with her own turbulent ones, "What happened last night, Hermione…should…never have happened. And what…" She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steel her nerves and resolve to speak about what in fact did happen between them, "I did…to you…" She shook her head, "Never should have happened either."
Tears fell from Hermione's eyes, "It wasn't your fault."
"I participated, Hermione…" She swallowed the whole of her pride as she finished, "Willingly."
"You didn't…have a choice."
Minerva pierced her brown eyes, holding them with her own. "I did. And I chose to…act…and participate in a manner…that…" The word wanted to stick in her throat, but she continued on. "Violated you."
It was Hermione's turn to shake her head, "No."
A deep tenderness laced Minerva's voice and features, "Yes, dear. I did. Whether you see it that way or not, I did. You are a minor, and I an adult. What happened…is illegal."
"What you did…saved our lives."
"The Ministry will not see it that way, and I…"
"The Ministry!?" Hermione interjected, voice immediately two octaves higher. "What do they have to do with what happened last night?"
"I need to tell them…"
Hermione's eyes were wide, "No. No. They'll…" Her mind immediately fast-forwarded to an end outcome of what happened, the news…the articles in the Prophet. "You'll end up in Azkaban."
Minerva met Hermione's gaze with her own resigned one, "Yes. I will."
Hermione blinked, disbelieving. "No." She whispered, "No." She stated slightly louder, "I won't…no." She felt her back come to something solid, unmoving…a wall?...her mind churning at an incredible speed; bits and pieces replaying from the night before…the way Minerva's eyes had sparkled with tears as she had nodded to her…
Consenting…not to fight her…when she had pleaded with her…
"I asked…" Hermione whispered, "It's not your fault."
Minerva had always known the young witch possessed a startling intellect and had born witness to her lightening speed of deductive reasoning…and today was no different, as the seconds ticked by…and understanding of what Minerva knowingly did last night became reflective in the brown eyes staring into her own.
Hermione felt sick. Truly and utterly sick. Not nauseas like last evening; but…a sickness of the soul…at herself. She had asked Minerva last night not to fight her…and…then later…asking her to…to…make love to her…
Dear Merlin…they'll prosecute her to the fullest extent of the law…
She remembered reading about a wizard who had taken advantage...No! She thought. "You can't, Minerva." She gasped, "They'll strip of you of your wand, send you to Azkaban, never let you teach again…because…because…" Hermione felt as though her chest was going to burst, "Of what you did to save me."
Minerva met Hermione's tear streaked face, "Yes, they will. And they are right to do…"
"No!" Hermione interrupted. "They aren't! What you did…"
"Was illegal, Hermione." Minerva stated. "I took advantage…"
Hermione strode forward, within a handful of strides, she was standing in front of Minerva… "Consenting to make love to me…was very different than forcing yourself upon me."
"You are a minor…a…" Minerva forced the abysmal word out, "Student. My…student."
"Who you saved." Hermione breathed, "From not only death…but…" Her voice caught, "…I…was forced to…make love to you…"
Tears stung against the back Minerva's eyes as Hermione struggled to find words to describe what happened.
"Bellatrix…wanted me to succeed, and I…" Her eyes scanned across emerald eyes, "Did. But…I don't…feel violated, Minerva. Because…you…" She went to reach out, to touch the smooth skin…but stopped as Minerva drew backwards slightly and she knew…it was inappropriate too. "…loved me."
"And for that, I should and will be sent to Azkaban…"
"Would it have been better if you hadn't and we both died? If I was returning back to the Burrow under the Imperious curse and God knows what would be happening to you? If you hadn't…and…I felt…like I had…" She choked at the word, "Raped…you?" Tears splashed off her chin, "Would that make it better? Would it be alright then?"
"Hermione…"
"What happened was…" She shook her head, "I don't even know what or how to describe it. Only that it did happen. And now, you are going to turn yourself into the Ministry because you saved our lives…and we…had…sex…" Her arms moving about in as frantic fashion as her verbal tirade. "And …Voldemort and Bellatrix win. Because, you'll be removed from Hogwarts…and eventually placed in Azkaban…and that'll be another tremendous blow the whole of the wizarding world. First Dumbledore and then…you… And yours…will be unjust. Yes, the Ministry can prosecute you for inappropriate relations that happened between us as a student and teacher, but…" She paused, meeting green eyes, "I am of age and…not a minor." Her voice became more…fervent. "I'll be eighteen in September. You did save us, Minerva. And you did what you did…in part…to save me. Because…because I begged you too."
Minerva went to move, adjusting her weight…and Hermione gasped. "Oh…my God…your back…" She took a step farther up, enabling her to see the whole of Minerva's back. Over three-fourths of it was discolored in array of blues, greens, and black. Four marks, slivers…really…remained ghostly white just above her shoulder blade. Without thought, her hand was already reaching out…gently grazing across the marred flesh; trailing to one of the four marks…scars?
"Tssst…" Minerva winced as cool fingers touched her skin.
"Sorry…" Hermione stated as she pulled her fingers away. "Your back…is…this from last night?" She asked stepping away, enabling her to see Minerva's face.
It was with a resigned look that Minerva answered, "Yes."
Hermione visibly paled, eyes darting to Minerva's side…chest. "From…what I…"
"It'll heal, Hermione."
"I am…so…sorry." She breathed through her tears.
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
Hermione bit her lip, trying to force the tears away. "I have so much to be sorry for, Minerva."
"No…dear." Minerva stated went to reach out, but her side pulled…and at once, she yanked her arm back from the pain.
Brown eyes flashed with…worry…and she immediately moved to the end table; picking up the salve, the two potion bottles. "Here." She turned around, handing the first bottle to Minerva. "Please…drink this."
Minerva eyed the bottle, momentarily…and her inclination to debate the nuisances of her personal welfare and health…died before the words formed and spilled from her lips. As much as she wanted to spout that she was indeed fine...or rather, in this instance, would be after a bit more rest…she couldn't…wouldn't…do that to the young woman before her…Hermione had been through too much…and she had agreed to assist her, enabling her to remain in the privacy of her own home versus the alternative…St. Mungos. And the far more invasive treatment she would have received while there.
Minerva gingerly took the proffered bottle, and went to unscrew the top…but with a frustrated sigh, banished the cap. She noticed the light smile upon Hermione's face, and her brow quirked…before she upended the bottle. Drinking the contents, she handed the empty bottle back.
"And this." Hermione took the cap off, before handing it to her. Minerva eyed the bottle, and fought the urge to banish the bottle and its entire contents into oblivion. It was a sleeping draught…and…the last thing she wanted to do was sleep. She was already tired. Exhausted, in fact. And if she drank the potion…she would be asleep well into the evening.
She fought her hesitation…and downed the dreaded draught before banishing the bottle.
"I'll try and be careful." Hermione stated, placing some of the salve into her hand. "If I'm pressing too hard…"
"The area around my shoulder is still quite…" Hermione's hand brushed her shoulder blade and she involuntarily pulled away. "Sore."
"Sorry…" Hermione eased the balm along her back, noticing the smooth texture…and fighting to lean closer and drown herself in the lush lavender scent she associated with Minerva McGonagall. But her eyes…were riveted to the awful bruising that littered Minerva's back…and as she leaned around, realized that it was equally as bad if not worse along her side. "I need…" She stood up, dipping her hand back into the salve. "To do your side."
Minerva could feel the first tendrils of the draught coursing through her system which helped to dampen the overwhelming feeling of…embarrassment and awkwardness…but not by much. With aching slowness, she laid down…feeling the mattress push into her back…and she closed her eyes to block the momentary rush of pain.
"Minerva…"
Pursed lips let out a light moan, "One moment…"
"I need to finish…" She stopped her sentence at seeing a solitary tear slip from the edge of Minerva's eye, the pain she was in no longer completely hidden…
"I…know." Came the broken response. "I…just need…" She took a shaky breath. "Another second."
"Take as long as you need." She whispered as Minerva took another steadying breath, which she mistook to be for the pain…when in fact, it had been to steel her nerves. Before Minerva reached across and gently covered her right breast with her left hand before gently pulling the sheet down with her right hand…exposing the whole of the right side of her chest while she averted her eyes away from the young woman.
Hermione's breathe caught at the sheer…ferocity of the bruising. Her back had been…bad…but…it didn't compare to the dark angry black and purple stripping all over her ribs, beneath the swell of her breast, along her side. "Your…ribs…I thought you said…they were going to be alright."
Minerva flinched as Hermione sat down next to her, feeling the mattress pull along her back. "They will."
Hermione extended her hand out, fingers shaking…as she touched the marred skin. "I didn't mean…dear Merlin, Minerva…how can you still move?"
"With a bit of difficulty." Minerva admitted, trying not to feel…uncomfortable with so little on, and Hermione's fingers lightly resting along the edge of her ribs.
"Ohhhh…" Hermione took the jar of salve, "Is your other side bruised too?"
"Not as bad." Minerva replied as Hermione pulled another swath of balm from the container.
"Here…" Hermione began slowly rubbing the cream along Minerva's ribs.
Minerva fought to keep her eyes open, feeling the effects of the potion quickly overcoming her already weak reserves. She felt her muscles begin to relax… "You…need..to finish." Her normally clipped brogue…slurring.
Hermione glanced up in time to see…Minerva struggling to remain awake. Never in her life could she imagine seeing Minerva McGonagall scantly clothed, lying on her bed, barely able to keep her eyes open…and permitting her to be sitting next to her. "I will…" Hermione whispered, "Just relax."
Minerva felt her vision shift…Hermione's face skittering along the edge of her consciousness…and then…nothing.
Hermione watched as the formidable woman lost her fight against the sleeping draught, body succumbing to the effects. And Hermione just stared at Minerva. She was so different. It was like…she hardly knew her. Granted, she had spent countless hours talking over tea, after class and always…thirsting for another grain of knowledge that seemed to be endless when speaking with Professor McGonagall. However, she had a hard time remembering that this woman was Professor McGonagall…and not someone else entirely. As…Minerva…was beautiful, sensual, alluring…and she would never associate those things with her Professor, who in turn seemed rather aloof…incredibly intelligent, stalwartly reclusive, and unendingly equitable…and yet they were one and the same woman.
Hermione let her eyes drift over Minerva's face, the hue of her lips…and for a moment her eyes remained there; remembering how they had felt against her own. And…she shook her head, banishing or rather trying to banish the thought; as she did not want to think of what had happened. If she did…how could she go back to seeing…her…as anything other than…the woman; and not the Professor?
Berating herself and her meandering thoughts, Hermione finished applying most of the salve. She stood to see the area above her forearm and fingers pausing at the three…correction, she thought to herself as she saw the forth white mark on the edge of her breastbone mostly obscured by Minerva's forearm. Scars? On the front too… Her forefinger gently ran over the mildly raised mark, not remembering it from the night before. Then again, how much did she remember…?
And what were these from? She thought as she withdrew her hand. They look to match the wounds on her back; however those were a bit smaller...and their angel different…as though…she felt her world stop as she realized what the cause had been for her scars. The stunners, last year.
Hermione remembered the horrifying incident, watching from the Astronomy Tower…the way her body seemed to glow a shade of red as it was picked up and then…thrown backwards as though Professor McGonagall was nothing but a ragdoll to be tossed aside. After that, her memory was a blur and she didn't even recall how she had managed to finish or even if she completed the exam before leaving the area. It wasn't until she overheard Professor Sprout speaking with Professor Flitwick that the world began to refocus…
"…then she is alive?"
"Yes, but critical."
"Four to the chest, Filius. Dear Merlin, what were they thinking?"
"Obviously, they weren't, Pomona." A grave tone lacing his voice.
"Did Poppy give an initial diagnosis?"
"She…" His voice caught, and Hermione strained as it dropped lower. "Indicated that if Minerva made it through the night…it would be a miracle."
"She's strong…"
Their voices drifted away, and Hermione had remained rooted to the spot for who knew how long; shocked. She had never pondered a world without the likes of Minerva McGonagall or Albus Dumbledore. They were as solid of the foundation as…well…as Hogwarts. Permanent, unmoving…steadfast, resilient.
Then the incident happened at the Department of Mysteries, and her world along with Harry's and the entire Magical world altered as Voldemort announced his presence and Sirius died. The atmosphere at Hogwarts, with her friends, and even the Professors seemed to reflect that of Britain – scared, resigned, worried…and Dumbledore appeared to be…tired as the world began rallying around him.
Then McGonagall returned, and…she recalled how McGonagall made it appear as though it was business back to usual upon arriving back to Hogwarts after the incident, other than the appearance of her walking stick. Not an ounce of fear etched upon her face…resilient to the turmoil , immediately taking her place beside Britain's pillar…Dumbledore, and…the mood began shifting. The end of term had been…typical. As typical as it could be for Hogwarts, and McGonagall appeared…as steadfast and overly equitable as usual; despite Snape's objections. And…she had seemed, unhindered; as though her walking stick was merely for convenience. Now, however, Hermione began to wonder how much of that was a façade. And how much she would be able to continue portraying to the wizarding world?
With great tenderness, Hermione lifted the sheets upwards and covered Minerva. She paused for a moment, her hand straying northward…thumb gently grazing across the side of Minerva's cheek.
Minerva shifted slightly towards the contact...and Hermione immediately withdrew her hand as if someone had burnt it. Get a grip Hermione, she thought to herself. She's your Professor. Your teacher…and she believes what happened between us and her participation in the act earned her a trip straight to Azkaban…
At thought, she blinked.
Azkaban. The word reverberating through her synapses.
Minerva McGonagall…Professor Minerva McGonagall…in Azkaban. For saving my life.
For making love to me…so I didn't feel as though I raped her. For making my 'first' time…memorable and not a horrifying experience…she is to go to Azkaban…?
A woman who…has done nothing but save the wizarding world…save me…is to go to Azkaban while Bellatrix remains free…for making love to me…
Minerva…in Azkaban because…
Of me…
Because she saved me…in every way she could…and did…
Blinking back her tears, she spun on her heel and headed back to her rooms. She needed some parchment, an ink pot and quill, immediately. She had some letters to write…
Xoxo
A/N: Uhhh…haven't written much…and can't guarantee a posting on Bonding this weekend (ducks quickly behind the desk)…but I swear I have been working on it.
