A/N So sorry for the delay. I hope your holidays were happy and that the new year offers fulfillment, contentment, and many laughs.

Chapter 9

April 1998

Awaking slowly, Hermione stretches luxuriously, her feet flexing as she sighs contentedly. Opening her eyes, she notes how the early morning rays are filtering softly through the drawn curtains. She feels a warm body shifting next to her, and a well-loved lilt breaks the comfortable silence.

"Good morning, mo Gràdh," Hermione hears as an arm pulls her backward.

"Mmm," Hermione hums, turning so that she can face her companion. "It is with you here," Hermione answers before leaning in for a chaste kiss. She feels herself rolled on top of her love, her legs resting between Minerva's toned thighs.

"That it is. How did you sleep?" Minerva asks quietly, her hands running up and down Hermione's back, causing her to shiver deliciously.

"Lovely. I dreamt of you. Here. With me. And then I awoke to find my dreams have come true." She watches with consternation as Minerva's eyes begin to mist. "Minerva?" Hermione asks, her voice dripping concern. She is pulled into a tight hug, and she feels her concern grow as tears dampen her nightshirt. When she feels Minerva's grip loosen, Hermione pulls back enough to look into Minerva's eyes.

"What is it?"

"I don't want to leave you. Two weeks ago I came here to help you, knowing that I had failed you by not finding a way to protect you from capture. Now Easter break is ending, and I have a duty to return to Hogwarts. But I do not want to, Hermione. I want to turn my back on my duties and stay with you. Help you. Protect you. Love you."

"Then stay," Hermione whispers. "I know I'm supposed to remind you of why you must leave, of the students who need your protection, and of the precariousness of the wizarding world if you were to suddenly disappear, but I want you with me. These last two weeks..." Hermione shakes her head as she wipes a tear from Minerva's cheek. "Having you with me has made me stronger. My body is healed, and lying in your arms each night has chased away the nightmares. So stay."

Holding her breath as countless emotions cross Minerva's face, Hermione selfishly hopes Minerva will give in to her desires. She muses that this would not be the first time that she has persuaded Minerva to do something she wanted to do but felt she should not. Six weeks ago they made love for the first time in the dreamscape. It was glorious. Intense. And addictive. They had not been that intimate again: a consequence of the stresses brought upon by the war, their need to discuss strategy and share information, and Hermione's unfortunate capture with Harry and Ron that resulted in their being brought to Malfoy Manor, where she was tortured by Bellatrix.

When Hermione awakened the day after they escaped from Malfoy Manor, she found herself held tightly by Minerva, her body sore and achy, although not in the pain she had experienced before taking a Dreamless Sleep Potion at her friends' insistence. At first she believed that they were in the dreamscape. Yet, as the divine smell Hermione knew so well filled her senses, she realized that what she thought she had smelled while in the dreamscape had been a pale imitation to what she was surrounded by at that moment.

Minerva was already awake, watching over her. The kiss they shared was incredible—an affirmation of what they had shared in the dreamscape and a promise now that they were together. Before they could do more, though, a knock at the door heralded the boys' arrival. When Minerva tried to move away, Hermione held her firmly, glaring at her in warning. Message received, Minerva quickly changed into a cat and meowed with such haughtiness that Hermione could not help but chuckle. In retrospect, she could understand Minerva's resistance to allowing others to see her so informally.

It astounds her that two weeks have passed. Two weeks where they have kissed and held each other for hours, but done little else. Hermione was not feeling well enough, although she hated admitting it. While her bones were healed, they ached, as did her back muscles. So she rested. And rested. And rested. However, Minerva was with her most of the time, lying next to her and holding her safely or sitting in a chair next to the bed, reading. It made all the difference.

Not being able to make love with Minerva has bothered Hermione greatly. Knowing that she could have easily died while at Malfoy Manor has caused her to feel a sense of urgency. She needs to express her feelings in the most elemental, visceral way. Her recent experiences have reinforced just how precious every moment is. And today she feels well-rested and healthy.

Leaning in, Hermione softly kisses Minerva, tasting the salt of her tears. She swallows Minerva's sighs and threads her fingers through ebony locks as she delivers more kisses, each one more passionate. A moan bubbles up as she feels Minerva's arms tighten around her waist.

Breaking the kiss, Hermione rests her forehead against Minerva's as they pant lightly. She can't bear the thought of never feeling Minerva's arms around her like this again. The threat of death hovering over them compels Hermione to take what she wants, what is hers — Minerva.

With a whispered word she removes their nightclothes, swallowing Minerva's gasp with a thorough kiss. Her body heats up as Minerva's hands pull her closer, and she revels in the feel of her nude body sinking into Minerva's alluring curves.

Not wasting time, Hermione begins to move her body slowly as she breaks the kiss and slides her lips down Minerva's swanlike neck. She pauses to nibble where neck meets shoulder, feeling Minerva's shudder in response. Flicking her tongue out, Hermione laves the indentation of her collarbone before sucking on it strongly.

"Hermione," Minerva groans as her neck arches, her hands splaying on Hermione's lower back and her body bucking in response.

"I need you, Minerva," Hermione breathes as she slides down porcelain skin, her hands sliding under Minerva's back as her lips seek out a hardened nub. Sucking it into her mouth, Hermione pulls on it with her lips as she allows her tongue to play with the nipple. Moaning at how responsive Minerva's body is, she sucks more forcefully, her fingers playing with the other nipple. She becomes more excited hearing the sounds Minerva makes, her whimpers and moans, as Hermione devours one breast before switching to the other one. She holds on to Minerva tightly, feeling her back muscles flexing as she continues to lavish attention on the person who has captured her heart.

With every sensation so sharp and intense, Hermione can feel tears forming in her eyes. Minerva's body feels so solid and real. Real. What they shared for all those months while she has been hunting Horcruxes was real, too, but the memories of those experiences are hard to capture when she seeks to reminisce.

This though, this feels so much more substantial. As Minerva's body moves underneath her, she hears Minerva's gasps and whimpers, feels long fingers weaving through her hair and pulling her upward toward ravenous lips, tastes salt and skin and breath, smells their combined arousal, and gazes into darkened green eyes—eyes as green as the Scots Pine found throughout Scotland. And she understands, finally, that although what they have shared in the dreamscape has been profound and distinct, such encounters are poor shadows of what they are sharing now.

As their tongues stroke provocatively, Hermione is rolled on her back, Minerva's sinewy form hovering over her. Hermione's nipple is pinched, and she arches instinctually. She whimpers through their kiss, feeling her focus narrow down to their mouths, her delightfully abused breast, and the throbbing between her legs. She wants Minerva so badly, needs her with a passion that might have scared her, if not for the certainty that Minerva will always love her, protect her, cherish her. She knows this with the absolute certainty that she feels the same way.

Those devilish fingers continue to pinch and roll Hermione's nipple as their kiss breaks, and Hermione keens as Minerva's hot, hot mouth covers it, her fingers moving to her other breast to torture it just as deliciously.

"How I have longed to taste you, my love," Minerva mumbles around the aching nipple, and Hermione groans as she feels it nipped by sharp teeth before Minerva begins sucking on it again forcefully. She cups the back of Minerva's head, holding her close to her chest as she rolls her hips and hooks her feet to the back of Minerva's ankles. She can feel her wetness seeping between her legs, her center pulsing in time with Minerva's sucking motions.

"Minerva! Please," Hermione begs, her body so wound up she is sure she will pass out from the tension. Heat travels through her body, and she gyrates more forcefully, needing Minerva to complete her.

"I have you, mo Gràdh. I won't let you go," Minerva croons, her body slithering down as her hands push Hermione's legs apart to accommodate her.

Penetrating eyes capture Hermione, asking permission, before fingers slide through her swollen folds.

Hermione moans hoarsely, her legs quivering at the sensation. She can feel the slightest twitch of a finger, the smallest pressure on her bundle of nerves, pushing her higher, ratcheting her desire. "Oh, Minerva! Ohhhh," Hermione moans when thin lips cover her clitoris and suck strongly. A beloved, sharp tongue lashes out in a staccato rhythm, and Hermione cries out, ecstatic as waves of sensation overwhelm her.

The air becomes heavy and sweet, and although Hermione has her eyes closed, brightness seeps through her eyelids. It is not a harsh light, though. It is welcoming and warm, like Minerva's touch. Opening her eyes, she watches in wonder as Minerva's hovering body, gleaming with perspiration, is outlined by a golden luminescence. Hermione welcomes Minerva's kiss, loving the way their tongues rub together as Minerva begins moving against her. Hermione positions her hand between their bodies, seeking out Minerva's engorged nerve center. They moan together as her questing fingers find what they seek, and Hermione traps it between the two of them and pulls slightly.

"Ah, Hermione!" Minerva shouts out, her body quivering as she jerks her pelvis upward repeatedly, faster and faster. Hermione's fingers slip, and before she can pull up, Minerva impales herself on them with a growl. She can feel her fingers being grasped by strong inner walls, and the knowledge that Minerva is so close to release urges Hermione to take what is hers.

Curling her fingers, Hermione pushes into Minerva forcefully, loving how Minerva's pace quickens and her body shudders continuously. Adding a finger, Hermione feels Minerva's inner walls fluttering and hears a low, drawn-out moaning that makes Hermione smile fiercely and redouble her efforts. She slides her other hand down Minerva's spine and grabs her backside, pulling her closer as she repositions her leg so that it is between Minerva's. Greedy lips cover hers, taking her breath away, and she cries into Minerva's mouth as two fingers enter her and start pumping. She tears her mouth away, sucking in oxygen as her body responds to the new stimuli. She ignores the slight sting she feels, mesmerized by the glowing body undulating against her and by her body's capitulation to her lover's demands.

Their eyes lock as Minerva's body stops, frozen in ecstasy for a timeless moment, before rolling against Hermione's languidly, riding out her climax. Hermione follows her quickly, and she cries out Minerva's name as she loses control. Gold light envelops them so brightly she can see nothing save Minerva's passion-filled eyes. Minerva's mouth moves, forming words, but Hermione cannot understand them. She cannot concentrate. It is enough to hear Minerva's contralto voice, the desire and love sounding through each uttered word.

As fingers continue to pump into Hermione at a slower pace, a thumb brushes against her clitoris, pulling a strangled moan from her. Hermione's body moves in time with Minerva's fingers, and she notes with distraction how Minerva's body moves sensually against her leg while Hermione's fingers continue to thrust into her.

The golden light pulses brightly once more, and Hermione feels energy rush through her.

She feels alive and invincible and free.

"Beautiful, so beautiful," Minerva whispers reverently, her eyes glowing.

"Minerva," Hermione says, overcome by the moment. Her eyes slam closed as she falls over the precipice, Minerva's roar of triumph mingling with her cries of exaltation. Their rhythm slows, labored breathing filling the room and shadows seeping into the corners as the magical light diminishes. Minerva's head rests on Hermione's chest, and Hermione relishes in her ability to run her fingers through long, ebony tresses. The room becomes dark, the early morning rays struggling to pierce the drawn drapery once more.

Traveling in and out of consciousness, Hermione barely feels the soft line of kisses delivered across her chest. Sighing, Hermione hums in contentment.

"You have given yourself to me twice, mo Gràdh," a loving burr breaks the comfortable silence.

Abashed, Hermione keeps her eyes closed until gentle fingers cup her cheek and a warm voice says, "You need not hide from me. I feel honored. Humbled. And although I could not give you my maidenhood, I have given you my heart. My soul. All that I am. I belong to you just as surely as you belong to me. Whether we are together as we are now or separated by our responsibilities, we are never truly alone. We have each other."

"So, you're leaving then?" Hermione asks plainly.

"You know I must, Hermione," Minerva answers gently.

Nodding, Hermione allows herself to be pulled into a tight embrace. "We will see each other again. And we will build a life together. I refuse to believe anything else," Hermione says firmly.

"Nor should you," Minerva says, her eyes shining.

Suddenly, a bright light flares in front of them and solidifies into the form of a doe as the voice of a well-known nasally baritone fills the room. "Minerva, you must return by sunset. Use the west entrance that leads to the hidden corridors. Sharp eyes are watching. Do not miss dinner." The Patronus disintegrates, and darkness rushes back in.

"As much as I abhor the idea, we must rise," Minerva says as she unabashedly stands, stretching in the cold room. Her beauty and strength capture Hermione, leaving her mute and motionless. Minerva turns and raises an eyebrow, her lips lifting into a smirk as Hermione's eyes roam over the older witch's body. "Bathe with me?" she asks as she extends a hand.

Nodding dumbly, Hermione grasps the hand and rises wordlessly. They embrace for a moment before making their way to the adjoining bathroom. Each moment becomes bittersweet, knowing they will need to part in a matter of hours. They do not talk, allowing their hands to communicate their feelings. Unlike the nearly frantic pace of their lovemaking just a short time ago, each motion is tender, each moment drawn out. And when they climax in each other's arms, lips melding together and tears mingling with the shower water, no words are needed to express their love, their need, their fear.

"What's happened?" Harry immediately asks when he sees them enter the kitchen with solemn countenances.

"Minerva must return to Hogwarts today," Hermione says.

"What? You're not staying, then?" Ron says in surprise.

"I cannot. If I fail to return, the students will be in danger. Nor can I help you with your plans to enter Gringotts, although I suspect Griphook might be willing to, for a price. I suspect you will need to return to Hogwarts soon to finish your quest, and it will be better for you if I am there," Minerva says as she prepares some tea.

"How do you know what we are planning to do?" Ron asks in an accusing voice.

"I told her, Ron. Are you daft or just a bloody fool? We can trust her!" Hermione exclaims, stepping in front of Minerva. She notices with satisfaction that Ron quickly backs down.

"Right. Fine," he says, holding his hands up in a placating manner.

"Why do you think we'll have to return to Hogwarts?" Harry asks curiously.

"Hogwarts was created by some of the most powerful wizards who ever lived. They are envied by many, as are their artifacts," Minerva says as she stirs her tea.

"But that doesn't mean their artifacts are in Hogwarts, does it?" Harry asks.

"Doesn't it? Can you deny that your school years have molded you, helped you to become who you now are? Why shouldn't that be true for others, regardless of what roads they chose to travel once they graduated?" Minerva asks.

"But first, we need to look elsewhere. If we return to Hogwarts, it will all end there," Hermione asserts. They have discussed this very point before. Even if all roads lead back to Hogwarts, and Hermione know in her heart that they do for many reasons, they must follow up on any leads they have that point toward any Horcruxes being outside of their alma mater. Bellatrix was upset that they had the Gryffindor sword, upset enough to cause them to believe that she is hiding something else extremely important within her vault. They must take the risk to find out by breaking into the bank.

Looking around, Hermione regrets that their mood has become so somber. Yet they are committed to seeing this through. They must.

They decide to eat breakfast before creating a plan to break into Gringotts. Minerva serves as a good sounding board, her knowledge and battle-experience helping them to anticipate all the possible ways they could be caught. Although daunting, Hermione is grateful for her love's input. There are a thousand ways that their plan may go wrong, and they need to minimize as much as possible the chance that they might be caught.

"How do you plan to get into Bellatrix's vault?" Minerva asks.

"That's what we need to work out. Griphook has agreed to help us, but it's not as if we can just waltz in there," Hermione says. "Nor do we have much Polyjuice Potion left."

"I have some with my supplies," Minerva says, "but, as the batch was made on the day I came here, it will not be ready for over a week. You will be able to use it on May 1st."

"Well, that's okay. We can figure out the other details while we wait," Harry says.

"But, Harry! We need to get moving!" Ron squawks.

"That's right! Let's rush over there and just start waving our wands. I'm sure we'll have no problem," Hermione says bitingly, irritated by Ron's constant objections. "Ron, use that thick head of yours! We need the polyjuice. And while we wait we can rest up, get ready, go over our plans so that, by some miracle, we might make it out alive."

Subdued, they sit hunched around the table in the small, dingy room. Eventually, conversation begins again, Ron and Harry asking Minerva about the happenings at Hogwarts. Hermione is aware of most of the events thanks to their regular meetings in the dreamscape, but she learns a few new things as Minerva answers their questions.

The shadows in the room become more pronounced as time passes, and with a sigh, Hermione realizes that Minerva must leave.

She walks with Minerva across the lawn and toward the boundary wall. Once Minerva passes beyond it, the Fidelius Charm will have no effect, and she will be able to disapparate back to Hogwarts. They stop in the waning light, the sun blocked by the rising sand dunes and the wind pulling at their clothes.

"Thank you for coming here. You have made all the difference," Hermione says. She steps closer, her hand resting over Minerva's heart. "I love you, Minerva. I hope you know that."

"Aye. I do as surely as I know I shall never feel complete until you are in my arms again. We will talk next week in the dreamscape," Minerva says, her hand wrapping gently around the wrist of Hermione's extended hand as she lifts her other hand to cup Hermione's cheek.

They lean in, allowing the kiss to deepen as the sound of waves pounding against the shore surrounds them. The kiss is extraordinary, filled with dedication and desire and desolation, and once it ends, they remain motionless as they breathe each other's air.

Slowly, they pull back, and Hermione struggles to let go. She needs to. She lets her hand drop and smiles tremulously. "Until then," she says.

Minerva offers a jerky nod, her eyes brimming with emotion. "Tha gràdh agam ort. I love you. My heart belongs to you. Be safe, for my sake."

Hermione watches as Elsa appears, and she continues to stare into Minerva's eyes until their connection is broken by their disapparation. A sob bursts forth as she turns toward the cottage, and she feels as if a part of her has left with Minerva.

So much at stake. So many sacrifices.

Wiping away the tears with the back of her hand, Hermione makes her way back to the cottage. She will see this through with Harry and Ron. They will finish this quest, and they will get on with their lives.

Hermione has a glorious life just waiting in the wings, and she has no intention of missing it. The love she has found with Minerva is infinite, glorious, and profound. It has buoyed her when she has felt low, guided her way when she has felt lost, and strengthened her when she has felt weak. She will not be denied the happiness their union promises. And in the meantime, she will carry Minerva's love in her heart, burning away all the doubts, pain, and fear.