Chapter 10

Minerva McGonagall, former Headmistress of Hogwarts, sighed with relief as, at last, she managed to turn off the alarm that had begun to sound through her rooms several minutes prior. She did not know how, by Merlin, Hermione had managed to sleep through it when she herself had been woken in the next room. When the noise had continued to go on after several seconds and Minerva had lost all hope for Hermione or anyone else to turn off the alarm, she, herself, had risen and summoned her cane and wand before going into the sitting room to see where exactly the hellish sound was coming from. She had located the clock very soon and had walked over to it –– quite uneasily, since she was stiff in the mornings after having laid for hours in nearly the same position –– first doing an effort to make it stop on her own, without magic, before eventually still using a Silencing Charm.

She had been a tad surprised herself upon seeing the time indicated by Hermione's conjured clock. Everyone who knew anything about Minerva McGonagall knew that she was a very early riser. Without alarm, she had woken at five-thirty every single day since many decades already, given the fact that she had never needed much sleep –– not even when she had been a teenager once upon a time either. Today had been the very first day in over half a century that Minerva McGonagall had stayed in bed past five-thirty.

As she quietly set the noise-maker down on the table once again, Minerva looked over at the witch in the bed, sprawled and, seemingly, still peacefully asleep even after the alarm had resounded beside her so very loudly. She must have been absolutely exhausted. Minerva really hated having to wake her, but she couldn't let her continue to sleep and arrive at work late after convincing her to stay the night prior, especially.

Sighing, Minerva McGonagall reached over to take a hold of Hermione's foot dangling from the edge of the bed, no longer covered by the sheet, and shook it gently. "Hermione? Your alarm's gone off." When the younger witch made no indication of having heard Minerva's words through her sleepy haze, she shook a bit harder and said a tad louder, "Hermione. Your alarm's gone off; it is time to wake up."

At last, the younger Gryffindor witch began to stir a bit, eyelids fluttering then opening. She looked slightly confused at first, undoubtedly at the unfamiliar surroundings in which she had woken. "Good…" she began when her own words got interrupted by a yawn, her hand going to her mouth to try and hide it as best she could, "morning," she finished before slowly moving to sit up in bed.

A small smile involuntarily lifted the corners of Minerva McGonagall's mouth. Hermione's eyes were still filled with sleep at the outer corners, she noted, as mocha eyes adjusted to the dim light that still spilled in even through the curtains and a hand reached up to rub her eyes as she barely managed to stifle a second yawn. "Good morning, Hermione. I'm sorry to wake you," she apologized, "but I thought you would like to know that your alarm's gone off."

Hermione frowned at that, and her gaze flashed to the dial of the clock only to find herself utterly shocked –– ten past six. "It didn't wake me? Or, didn't it go off?" she wondered.

"Oh, it did," Minerva assured with a little smile on her lips.

Hermione's eyes widened; realization hit. "I'm so sorry!"

"Please, don't be," Minerva waved off with a hand gesture that fit her words. "I am awake at five-thirty every day." With this, she failed to mention how today had been an exception to that rule. "How about… we get dressed first and foremost and then we ask the House-Elves for something to eat? How does that sound?"

"That sounds like a plan."

"All right," Minerva responded. "Then I will go and get dressed, and I will ask a House-Elf to send something up for two when I am back."

Before Hermione had a chance to voice her thanks once more, Minerva McGonagall had turned away already and had managed a few steps in the direction of the door to the hallway. Minerva was leaning rather heavily on her cane, Hermione saw, and a bout of genuine worry creased her otherwise-smooth forehead. She wondered if the older witch was in any pain at all right now, and, if so, if it was in the degree she had witnessed last night when Minerva was asleep. As Minerva made her way back to her bedroom to get dressed, her long graying hair spilled down her back. Hermione wondered why she rarely left her hair loose. It hadn't thinned like with most women of her age, and it was still shiny and smooth. Hermione didn't see any reason at all for her to still pin every wisp of her hair up in her customary bun. After all, she didn't teach anymore. Habit?

Sighing, she slipped from the bed and summoned her wand into her hand to first re-transfigure Minerva's red couch then change her attired into something a bit more work-appropriate: a dark blue lady suit, as she usually wore to go to the Ministry of Magic.

She felt her bushy hair, made a face. She would really need to fix that prior to leaving for work. There was no way that she could leave with what was undoubtedly a resemblance of a bird's nest. Her hair had always had a tendency to work itself in knots when she was asleep, even when she was still a little girl. Again, the Gryffindor's thoughts trailed off to the spare bedroom she had discovered the night prior. She was very hard-pressed to ask Minerva about it. Then, however, she would have to admit to having invaded Minerva's privacy…