A/N: Patience... ;)


Minerva awoke to a light glow bathing the high ceiling above her in shades of rose.

She blinked several times, shifting to look around the unfamiliar space with a start before recalling where she was.

Hermione.

Unbidden, a smile slowly spread itself across her features and Minerva stretched, feeling deliciously rested and more peaceful than she had felt in years. Her nose picked up a subtle blend of cotton, pine, fresh flowers, and fresh bread and briefly she recalled the previous day and how her enterprising witch had spirited them away to this heavenly new location.

Your witch…

Green eyes flew open and Minerva gasped as more memories began filtering through the sleepy haze of the early morning. Her fingers drifted upward to brush across her lips as her mind suddenly recalled the echoes of Hermione's kiss. Merlin… was that even real?

More flashes… walking along a darkened beach, the air heavy with emotion and the warm briny scent of salt. Deep caramel eyes watching her intently. The weight of her own feelings… and then… their release.

Adrenaline surged through her for a moment and Minerva twisted beneath the white sheets in panic before recalling how the night had concluded.

There had been that terrible moment when Hermione had splinched herself. The image of deep crimson blood spreading across her fingers flitted into view… her shaking hands washing it away carefully. The golden square light ahead of her as she had been coaxed from the darkened hallway… returning the third floor sitting area to find the witch seated at the piano, wreathed in candlelight… with a rapturous look upon her face that Minerva had never before witnessed.

What had begun as a simple request on her part - a spontaneous desire arising out of the exquisite rendition of one of her favorite pieces by Liszt, had quickly evolved into a moment that Minerva realized remained quite unparalleled by anything she had ever experienced before.

The woman had looked so warm and inviting - her arms rippling across the piano keys, body swaying with feeling, and her expression so earnest and passionate that Minerva hadn't been able to help herself. Her fingers had risen of their own accord to release the soft mane of curls - giving in to her desire to run her fingers through them, and Hermione had leaned into her touch… responding so honestly even as she played that Minerva had felt a wave of desire wash through her, at once needing to feel more of Hermione against her in a way that had shocked her.

Her lashes fluttered and Minerva felt her body grow warm as she remembered the first few tantalizing moments of discovering Hermione's sweet mouth.

Those tentative silken touches had been heaven… and then Hermione had taken her someplace completely new.

It was real...

Chuckling softly, Minerva sat up slowly in disbelief, brushing her hair from her face as she waved open the gauzy curtains with a motion of her hand. Willing her heartbeat to slow down from its suddenly rapid dance, she took a deep breath. The sky was beginning to shift from shades of lavender and rose into a cool blue, promising yet another beautifully clear day.

Rising gently, Minerva padded over to the french doors and opened them - noting the warm temperature and the sweet scent of flowers upon the still air. A spray of feathery clouds crossed the sky high above, but beyond the exchange of birdsong, the world seemed content to remain in utter stillness.

Wetting her lips, she stepped outside, feeling the air press in against her like a tangible substance. The tiles were warm beneath her feet and Minerva resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose.

Another unbearably warm day ahead, it seems…

Inhaling deeply, Minerva stretched, relishing the pull along the muscles of her back as she lifted her arms over her head, her simple cotton nightgown lifting slightly and brushing against her thighs.

She exhaled with a sigh, releasing her arms and smiling softly, still in disbelief that her world had changed so much in a matter of hours.

Hermione…

Who could have predicted that the young woman would step into her life and turn it upside down by her mere presence?

Turning back to her rooms, Minerva suddenly wondered if the witch was awake… already itching to see her, wondering how they would move forward now that both of their feelings were out in the open.

Crossing the bedroom quietly, she listened but didn't detect any sounds coming from below. Accio-ing her wand from the bedside table, Minerva cast a quick tempus. 6:24.

That didn't necessarily mean that Hermione wasn't awake. Perhaps she's reading downstairs in the kitchen…

Smiling softly, Minerva stepped into the bath, determined to make herself presentable before going in search of the woman who had ignited her passion so quickly the night before.

In a short matter of minutes Minerva was standing beneath the warm spray of water, hands running conditioner through her hair and combing through the tangles with practiced ease. The ends fell almost past her buttocks when wet and the entire length seemed far more unruly and unmanageable than she desired… especially considering how fervently Hermione seemed to enjoy running her hands through it.

The thought brought a slight blush to her cheeks.

Now who needs a haircut?

Sniffing lightly, Minerva continued her ministrations quietly, letting her mind drift to the end of the evening and how quickly her body had run away from her.

Merlin, perhaps you're moving too fast… Hermione is still so young…

With a flush, she recalled the witch's bold statement just before they had gone their separate ways… "know that you have me entirely… whenever you so wish…"

Shutting off the water, Minerva squeezed the excess moisture out of her hair absently as she considered the weight of those words. Part of her was still entirely amazed that Hermione found her desirable at all… and that the young woman clearly felt open to… er… consummating their relationship without any cause for hesitation.

Minerva waved two towels to wrap themselves around her quickly, still deep in thought as she returned to the bedroom and began preparing for the day.

It wasn't until she began spreading lotion across her damp skin that Minerva began to feel the first twinges of insecurity thread through her mind. She wasn't exactly young, no matter what kind words Hermione had impressed upon her the night before. Though the witch had seen her let her hair down so to speak, in the last several days, it was completely different to be seen in casual attire and to be seen… naked.

Minerva returned to the bathroom and pressed herself closer to the antique mirror above the sink, raking her eyes across her reflection with a dispassionate gaze. While she did not consider herself vain to the standards of others, Minerva knew that in the privacy of her own bath, she was highly critical.

She had always maintained excellent care of her body - her skin in particular, but no one was immune to the effects of time, and the smattering of lines across her forehead, around the corners of her eyes, and surrounding her lips was evidence to that eternal constant. Long hands quietly worked lotion into the soft skin of her face and neck, testing quality and tone as they went.

While everything was as usual… Minerva couldn't help but feel that perhaps she was a bit lacking. Others had always commented upon her high cheekbones and "bedroom eyes," as one poetic lover had once said. She knew that Hermione found her attractive, but to her own gaze, Minerva had a hard time finding the appeal.

She looked plain. Severe, maybe. The line of her jaw was curved enough, but Minerva had always felt it appeared too masculine.

Her green eyes were bright and framed by dark lashes, but against her black hair and pale skin she had always worried she appeared too otherworldly or witch-like… in the Muggle sense.

Sighing, Minerva murmured a quiet drying charm and let her hair fold into the gentle waves it held when naturally unbound, before unwrapping her towel and surveying her nude body carefully.

Long fingers spidered across the scars nestled between her breasts, before drifting down to trace an uglier slash along the side of her left ribs that she had earned during the first War. Twisting, she could see another silvery starburst along her right shoulder-blade, though that one had healed properly and Minerva rather liked it.

Hermione has her own scars just as you do… if you can look past them on her, she can certainly look past them on you...

Minerva bit her lip and ran her hands across her stomach and over her breasts experimentally.

Her body type had always been rail-thin, though unlike Hermione, it was much harder for her to build muscle. She had kept herself in reasonable shape through the last several years, though the outline of her abdominals was much softer than she liked and gravity had begun to take its toll on her breasts which had always been disproportionately full in comparison to the rest of her relatively lithe frame.

Biting a lip, Minerva turned away from the mirror, at once uneasy and slightly apprehensive about what the coming days would bring.

There is only one more week before you must return to Hogwarts… surely you wish to deepen your relationship with Hermione?

However you also accepted her as your Apprentice, which leaves plenty of time ahead for those discoveries…

What if she rejects you and no longer wishes to pursue a Mastery?

Worse, what if she rejects you and still wishes to continue with her Apprenticeship?

Her thoughts continued in useless circles as Minerva dressed, summoning one of her usual oxford shirts and electing to transfigure it into a white dress similar to the one she had worn the day previous. She made a few alterations to lighten the weight of the fabric, adjusting the style so that the dress wrapped across her torso rather than buttoning up. The style set off her figure rather nicely and provided an open neckline that would be significantly more cool for the hot day ahead.

Sighing, Minerva waved her wand and tidied the bathroom before stepping back into the bedroom… and stopping abruptly.

A small spray of flowers was nestled against her pillow - roses of pale pink, apricot, yellow, and ivory.

Moving as if in a trance, Minerva crossed over to her bed and plucked them up carefully… noting how the thorns had been removed and the fragrant bundle wrapped in a single emerald ribbon.

She brought them up to her nose and inhaled deeply, absorbing the sweet scent fervently even as her eyes fluttered shut.

A moment later, Minerva smiled.


The sound of birdsong floated in from the open window and Hermione couldn't help the faint echoes of a smile that hovered about her lips as she went about preparing breakfast and lunch.

The heat had woken her rather early and despite a gentle headache that had lingered around her temples like a vice, she had risen well before the sun, showered, and begun attending to the day. Thoughts from the night prior continued floating through her mind like an insistent melody and after a peaceful cup of tea at the kitchen table, she had elected to step out of the flat and chance an early morning run to the boulangerie just down the lane.

Upon returning, the sound of running water had alerted her to the fact that Minerva was awake and it has proved the perfect opportunity to slip upstairs and deliver the small bouquet of flowers that she had glimpsed on her way back home.

The sight of the unmade bed and the witch's clothes tossed carelessly over one chair had been undeniably intimate and Hermione had lingered in the empty room for a moment, absorbing the small details that provided evidence that the night before hadn't been a dream…

Sighing happily, Hermione tossed a curl out of one eye as her fingers deftly mixed fresh blackberries and sugar.

You are being a ridiculous sap…

Still, she allowed herself a broad smile as she hummed quietly, whipping together her ingredients as the record player in the other room began to swell with the triumphant waves of Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2. The dreamy notes of the second movement began mixing with the sounds of the waking town floating through open windows and Hermione sighed again, inhaling the fresh scents of fruit and sugar alongside the more subtle blend of pine, fresh bread, and clean cotton.

For a brief moment, she realized that she was absolutely content. The coming day promised to be beautiful, if a tinge too warm for her liking, she had already prepared pan bagnats for later if they decided to venture to the sea, but mostly… Hermione realized how grateful she was to share such a beautiful vacation with Minerva and to have pressed forward into a new phase in their relationship that promised nothing but joyful challenge.

Rachmaninoff's crescendos began to grow in the background and Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself a dreamy spin, still holding a glass bowl in one arm as her expression settled into something that she knew must look incredibly blissful.

"Well… it certainly appears to be a good morning," a familiar voice said softly.

Hermione's eyes flew open and she could already hear the hint of a smile as she spun in place, nearly sending blackberry juice flying as she turned to find Minerva leaning against the threshold from the back staircase, arms crossed casually, and dark hair spilling over narrow shoulders.

"Indeed," she managed, unable to prevent the happy grin from spilling over her features. Minerva stepped forward slowly, green eyes seemingly content and Hermione quickly divested herself of her bowl and apron as she moved to intercept the woman on her way to the table.

Before the witch could sit, she pressed into Minerva's space… threading a hand beneath silky black waves to draw rosy lips downward to her own.

The lithe body before her stiffened for a moment and then abruptly relaxed as Minerva allowed herself to be drawn into the kiss. A moment later, Hermione was delighted to feel a curious tongue flutter gently against her lips, seeking entrance, which she was only too happy to oblige.

The taste of Minerva exploded on her tongue, silken and intoxicating.

The witch's mouth was full of warm, wet heat… fluid and titillating, eliciting a wave of tingling warmth through her body that had nothing to do with the summer temperature.

Hermione's other hand rose to trail down the sinfully soft length of elegant neck lightly, trailing across delicate collarbones, before suddenly being stopped by a firm hand.

"Hermione!"

Her name was released in a startled gasp as Minerva stepped back, a glazed look crossing the clear emerald eyes that suddenly made Hermione's heart beat a little faster.

She untangled her hand from Minerva's mane of hair and smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the long fingers that had stopped her wayward journey toward the neckline of the flattering white dress that the witch was wearing.

"Now it's a good morning," Hermione murmured softly, giving Minerva a fond little smile before turning away. She heard the witch clear her throat.

"I daresay that's one of the of the more unique greetings I've received in a while…"

Hermione turned over her shoulder to find Minerva sitting at the kitchen table with a distant smile upon her face as she gazed out the window, both hands pressed against the roughened wood as if attempting to steady herself.

"Well, I should hope it isn't an everyday occurrence for you," she replied gently, even as cautious eyes flicked up to meet hers. "I would admittedly be quite jealous if Filius or Pomona greeted you thusly every morning."

Ivory cheeks flushed as Hermione chortled, turning back to the stove and beginning her breakfast preparations in earnest.

For a moment the kitchen was silent save for the echoes of recorded applause as the piano concerto concluded and the sound of batter bubbling softly.

"Do you need assistance?"

Hermione smiled even as she flipped a pancake with practiced ease. Now this is a summer meal.

"Not at the moment. Would you like to eat here or upstairs?"

She turned again to see Minerva watching her with a curious expression that abruptly dissolved into a pensive one. The witch tilted her head slightly.

"Upstairs perhaps... unless you would be more comfortable inside," Minerva replied, half-asking the reply. Hermione was still unused to this timid side of the woman and it seemed that in some respects, Minerva was most definitely waiting for her to take the lead.

"We might as well eat outside… it would be nice to enjoy the morning before the sun rises in earnest," Hermione said, flipping another pancake. "Depending on what you'd like to do today I would either suggest staying indoors to avoid the heat or taking another trip to the sea where there'll be a bit more of a breeze."

Trickling threads of another piano concerto wound their way between the sizzle from the stove and the murmur of outdoor sounds as Minerva fell silent. Hermione continued tending to their breakfast as she stirred the blackberry compote, not wanting to pressure the woman into doing anything that she didn't desire. Don't forget that you brought her here to relax...

As the silence continued, Hermione turned to find Minerva gazing out the window with a lost expression on her face.

Advance and retreat…

Turning off the stove, Hermione cast a stasis charm over the plate of pancakes and poured the compote into a small ceramic pitcher. A few more carefully focused flicks banished the needed materials to the table on Minerva's terrace and she sent a number of smaller items there as well in case the witch desired something different.

Satisfied that breakfast would unfold to her liking, Hermione turned and quickly strode across the kitchen to stand behind Minerva's chair.

The witch had started slightly upon seeing her move and Hermione pressed her hands down upon narrow shoulders and bent forward to press a kiss against silky black locks. Her hands ghosted along long ivory arms for a moment, waiting until she felt Minerva relax slightly into her touch.

"There is no right or wrong answer to anything, Minerva," Hermione whispered, leaning in a bit further to press her lips against the soft shell of one ear. She felt the witch shiver beneath her.

"All I want is for you to relax… and the rest of the vacation is for us to enjoy. There is no pressure to do anything… either here in Saint Paul or with me specifically. I'm not going to go anywhere unless you tell me."

Another long moment passed before elegant hands rose to grasp her own and Hermione smiled as Minerva tilted her head back to look up at her carefully, a myriad of emotions crossing the emerald pools.

"I'm sorry, Hermione…" the witch sighed softly. "I s'pose I still need a bit o' time…"

"We have time, Minerva."

The beautiful eyes closed and Hermione stood up slightly as the witch sighed, shaking her head even as she turned sideways upon the chair to look over her right shoulder. Rosy lips curved upward into an apologetic smile and Hermione felt her heart melt.

"Come. Let us eat breakfast… and afterward I can remind you of all the reasons - logical and illogical as to why pursuing a relationship with me is the most brilliant option available to you," she said quietly, fixing Minerva with a lopsided smile.

Emerald eyes fluttered for a moment and Minerva lifted a long hand to cup her cheek gently, skimming down her neck to rest at the indention between her collarbones.

"The most brilliant and only option," Minerva whispered softly, rising suddenly to press a chaste kiss against her lips.

Hermione grinned in response, chuckling softly even as her hands skimmed down soft ivory skin until she found the witch's hands. Tugging gently, she pulled Minerva toward the back stairs even as one hand found her wand and managed to flick off the record player in the other room.

"Enough distractions for the moment," she murmured teasingly. She threaded her fingers through Minerva's own as they began to ascend the steps slowly, passing through warm beams of sunshine even as Hermione knew they wore matching smiles that would have undoubtedly made the other witch blush if she realized.

"Our breakfast awaits."