Chapter 10

Hermione woke before either of the boys, eyes scanning across the darkness – heart cleaved in half as she continued to grapple with Ron's reappearance and the underlying meaning of his return. That in a way, perhaps, he hadn't abandoned them. That he wouldn't desert them.

But, she couldn't help believe otherwise. That while he may have had a change of heart, and ultimately returned, he still had left. What if something had happened to either she or Harry? As it almost had in Godric's Hollow…

While yes, he had been there to save Harry last night – charging in on a white horse to save him from seemingly no where; what if he hadn't?

And…how had he known where they were?

Minerva.

She answered without thought. She had somehow managed to find Ron and direct him to them…along with Gryffindor's sword. How else could it have been found in the small stream?

But whose patronus had Harry seen to lure him from the encampment?

Minerva's was a tabby cat, wasn't it?

She pulled her pillow closer as her heart warred with her mind regarding Ron's return and his rationale for leaving which was in direct opposition with her basic instinct and ability to trust him.

And then…there was the woman who seemed to be always out of sight but having taken up Dumbledore's ability at being able to pull up marionette's vast strings across the madness of the world to help not only her and the boys but who knew how many countless others. And how could she trust him more than her? She had already done so much for her. For them.

From the tent, the food, to Gryffindor's sword…this summer; how was she to believe that Ron could compare?

And yet, he was supposed to. She had seen the way Harry had looked at him and then her and back. The forgone belief that she and Ron would become more than just friends, but could she?

Could she trust him enough to perhaps enable the love she had felt for him rekindle?

Or…was it folly to believe in such foolish notions?

Because, in truth, her trust and heart already resoundedly belonged to another. Her feelings had begun through an unspeakable happenstance occurring this summer and had been tempered with each subsequent experience, forging her burgeoning feelings into something that had become…solid, resolute and unyielding. How was she to ignore the spark that had been solidified into what could now only be called – love?

How was she to do what she knew she must, as she could not continue to love the woman who had captured her heart? How was she to turn her back on Minerva and love…the boy on the verge of becoming a man because that is what was expected? What she herself had believed…what even Minerva believed what would come to pass.

Her mood continued to sour at the notion of giving up something so – precious. Because that is what Minerva's love was to her, for it was obvious in what little she knew of the woman how precious it was to have received a fraction of Minerva's love – of her heart…especially considering how distant she was to most, always remaining as the Professor. But to have seen and been a part of something so rare, so precious and beautiful – how was she to give it up, even though she never should have been touched by it?

How was she to give it all up for Ron? Even if Minerva had told her to do so, when she wanted nothing more to sink back into Minerva's warmth as only a lover could?

xoxo

Minerva eased her body into the steaming bath, sinking downward until the water lapped over her shoulders and rested at the base of her chin. It had been an exceedingly long day, which had followed another previously long day - which had been preceded another and another.

If something didn't give, other than her body, soon – she'd not have to worry about the coming day as she'd not be able to move to greet it.

"Minerva," Tilx's voice ringing in her bathroom causing emerald eyes to blink open. "I bring word…"

Minerva pushed herself upright, bringing her left arm out of the water and keeping as much of her right one within to help the muscle. "From who?"

"Mr. Shacklebolt."

"And the delivery method?" Minerva asked to be sure that it was safe.

"A note amongst the flames." Tilx stepped forward, hand upwards, staying her movement to begin leaving the water. "You needn't move. It wasn't an alarm, rather a message regarding a Mr. Lovegood."

Minerva relaxed back into the water, "They have found Luna?"

"He has been arrested and taken to Azkaban."

"Did he relay the charge?"

Any further discussion was nullified as her chamber's outer door was opened, and at once Tilx vanished and she jumped from the tub. Water streaming in rivers from her skin as she gabbed her wand as a mass of ebony hair fell upon her back, "Hello?" she called out while summoning her robe.

She no sooner grasped her robe when the door before her opened, and the man opposite drew to an abrupt stop as black eyes landed upon flush skin partially obscured from view. "You had better have a damn good reason to be here, Severus!" She snapped and a flush passed over his ghostly features as his mouth remained agape for a full two heartbeats before he managed to bring his eyes and focus back to raging emerald orbs.

"My apologies, Minerva." He took a partial step back, "I…will…ahhhhh," he spun on his heel, black robes whirling where had been momentarily. "I need to speak with you."

She kept her wand leveled at the doorway, despite his temporary disappearance behind the threshold. "Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"Then…" she set her robe upon the vanity's edge along with her wand, and took a step sideways, quickly returning back to the tub and easing back into the water. "Re-enter. I am moderately more decent."

"There was an attack at the Lovegood…" words once again faltered his command as he re-entered to see that she had returned to her tub. While most of her body was obscured beneath the water, he couldn't stop his body's reaction to what he had seen. She was an alluringly beautiful woman.

"I am aware." Minerva stated, moderately amused by Severus' reaction.

He cleared his throat, "Potter was there."

Her muscles tensed, "Did they get away?"

"Yes." Severus murmured, trying to overcome the distraction before him. "Thanks to Granger."

"And were you privy to any additional facts?"

"They had wiped Xenophilius' memory of their conversation," and despite his best intentions, he felt himself step closer. "When were you able to obtain a hair from Narcissa?"

"Over the years, I have obtained a great many witches and wizards hair; enabling a modicum of disguises in both human and animagus."

"Then your animagus' markings differ when you are someone else?"

"I trust that you will keep that bit of information to yourself." Minerva replied sensing that Lovegood ambush was not the only reason for his intrusion, "What else?"

"The Carrows are to hospitalize you."

"To what end?"

"A potion will be changed for another and you will cease to be the woman I have come to respect."

Minerva closed her eyes as she adjusted her neck along the lip of the tube, "At least my shoulder will finally have time to heal."

He stepped another half step closer, "This is serious, they will succeed."

"Severus, I can scarcely lift my wand arm. The infection is barely being kept at bay, my body has become riddled with scars and it takes me the better part of a half hour until I can move properly in the morning. Like you, I'm tired. There is no refuge ahead, only more suffering. So forgive me if I don't become passionate about what may happen while I'm enjoying the rare comfort of a warm bathe."

Black brow arched, "Your lack of concern regarding your welfare is astoundingly Gryffindor and exceedingly short sighted."

"What would you have me do, Severus? Spend what little time I do have to relax, planning what exactly? How to keep myself alive whilst protecting the children? Or when I can permanently incapacitate Alecto and Ameycus without making it evident so I can keep myself from ending up in Azkaban and the mother of his child?"

"Let me protect you against the Carrows."

"And what of him?"

"In a few months, it'll matter not; either way."

"Severus," she purposefully sat up, the water lapping just above her breasts, "I don't find you any more attractive now as I did three months ago and I'm sure you don't me either."

"That…" he leaned down placing his hand on the edge, "is not true." His left hand reaching out, brushing a lock of wet hair back. "You are a beautiful woman, Minerva."

"This won't change anything." Minerva breathed as his hand trailed along her neck.

"I wouldn't expect it to," he murmured leaning closer cupping her jaw.

"Nothing past…" his lips began nuzzling her neck, "oral…"

"I'd not have it any other way." He said leaning back as she unfastened his outer robe, his arm plunging into the water and pulling her upright – as both sought momentary refuge in the other. Their mouths crashing against the other, much like their houses, Slytherin and Gryffindor, neither relinquishing as they both battled against their own demons – their partners meeting and battling back.

Backs were slammed into walls as lips and tongues robbed them of breath, both vying for dominance; until their bodies tumbled onto the floor.

She stilled her movements, pausing – as she had not been with a guy for close to sixty years. She swallowed the notion, needing this as much as he did; and if they could give a momentary respite to the other…

Minutes later Lily's name fell from his lips…

"My turn…" he gruffly whispered as he blinked open eyes returning from the abyss, shifting and carefully rolling her beneath him.

"Severus…I don't know…"

"Shhh…" his black hair fell over his features as his mouth began tracing along her sternum, "Relax…my Gryffindor," he ran a hand along the four scars above her right breast, the ones marring her flesh along her left side and she found herself willing thought away she let herself simply enjoy the feeling.

Unlike last time she had felt a semblance of pleasure, it had been mutual and out of necessity and love; while this time…it was just about the feeling. There was no love, but he was of age…

Age.

She was too, she inwardly thought as her mind waged war regarding her age.

Her mind losing to the pleasures of her body and the knowledge that if she were to give into the feelings regarding the younger woman, that this…would be nothing like what she would be able to give her.

She loved her, and despite not wanting to see it, it was written plainly across Hermione's features when she had been at her home on Christmas.

And she moaned as she found herself wanting to picture that Hermione was the one between her legs.

A lover that couldn't be, but one that she could no longer stop herself from wanting.

"Yes…" she murmured as she stopped her internal struggle, no longer able to continue it as she succumbed to the needs of her body, her heart and Merlin forgive her, her soul.

As the last of any and all thought fell away; and all that she couldn't have melted into what she could as tears fell from her eyes as an orgasm ripped through the last of her resistance…and Hermione's name passed silently from her lips.