"I just don't recognize him anymore, or better, – what he has become. Everything was fine when we got married, but after the children were born, he began to change. At first, I thought it was just a phase and tried to be understanding. Merlin, I found so many excuses for him." The sad woman shook her head in disbelief, thinking about how stupid she had been.
Minerva's heart painfully clenched when she realized how much Hermione had to cope with and that she hadn't been there to comfort the young witch she had always loved more than she should have.
"It couldn't have been more classic, Minerva. Lipstick on his collar, the smell of cheap perfume, late nights… I tried so hard to make him happy, to save our marriage for my children's sake, but in the end I gave up." A hollow laugh erupted from Hermione's lips. "Isn't that great? I'm a quitter now."
"You…not," Minerva objected and looked for a place to put her cup. It was so damn annoying that she could only use one hand when she really needed both.
Seeing Minerva's troubles, Hermione took the cup from her and placed it on the nearby table. She wanted to sit down again, but Minerva signaled for her to come closer.
"Come," the old woman said and held her hand out.
Hermione looked skeptical for a moment. She wasn't sure what Minerva wanted, and she wasn't very comfortable with her little emotional outburst. However, she allowed Minerva to take her hand. The stern witch pulled a little and Hermione moved closer to her and sat on the carpet with her side resting against the sofa, facing Minerva.
Hermione almost smiled when she looked at her former professor. Minerva obviously wasn't very happy with Hermione's sitting position.
"It's comfortable, Minerva," she reassured and slightly squeezed her friend's hand before she let go.
"Lisen cafully." Minerva wanted to scream in frustration about her limitations, but right now, Hermione was more important.
The young woman nodded and rested her head on the sofa against her motherly friend's leg.
"You are…no quitter. Never w…as and never…will be."
"But I…" Hermione started, but Minerva placed a finger over the young woman's lips.
"Seeing …re…reason is…no givin up. You too…pre…precious to end…like that."
A silent tear escaped Hermione's eye. "Like what?"
Minerva tentatively let her finger stroke the young woman's cheek. "Unhappy."
More tears followed and Hermione hid her face, her forehead pressing against Minerva's leg, slowly soaking it with salty tears.
Sighing deeply, Minerva let her fingers skim over her young friend's head and through her hair, gently scraping her skull.
It was such a simple action, but coming from Minerva, it meant so very much to Hermione. It was hard to live without any motherly support, and Hermione missed it dearly. Her own parents had never truly forgiven her for altering their memories. Hermione couldn't blame them, but it broke her heart that they didn't even want to see their grandchildren more than a few times a year. They had at least Molly and Arthur, and for that Hermione was more than grateful. It pained the young mother to see especially Molly so torn, though. She was Ronald's mother, and she loved him unconditionally, but Hermione knew that she was shocked by her son's behavior.
Slowly, Hermione's crying ceased, but she enjoyed Minerva's attention too much to move.
"Wha…about the…childen?" Minerva asked.
Hermione sighed deeply and slightly turned her head to look at Minerva, who hadn't stopped stroking her hair. "He isn't overly interested in them. He keeps making promises, but hardly ever does as promised. It is a mystery to me. You can fall out of love with your wife, but how can you stop caring for your children? They're so innocent, and it is so unfair to them. Rose is so disappointed that she doesn't want to see him, but Hugo still adores him. It is heartbreaking to wipe his big tears after his father let him down again, though."
Minerva could practically feel her blood pressure rise. How dare Ronald hurt her perfect little kids! Maybe she should pay him a visit once she was better. Oh yes, she most certainly would pay him a visit. She had always been able to scare the hell out of that boy, and she would be damned if she couldn't do it again.
Feeling Minerva's sudden stiffness, Hermione soothingly stroked the woman's blanket -clad thigh. She was very touched that the old woman was obviously very protective of her children, and it was good to know that even if their father failed them, they would always have Minerva's support. "Don't let him get to you, too much. He's not worth it."
Slowly, Hermione felt the muscles under her hand relax and let her head rest against Minerva's leg once more. "I've missed this," she whispered, counting on her friend's sensitive hearing.
"Missed…what?" Minerva carefully asked and returned her hand to stroke Hermione's soft hair.
"I don't know. You, I guess. Our talks, your presence, your comfort. That motherly figure I always looked up to, the woman who seemed to know and understand me better than anyone else. Did you know that even on the run, I've always thought what you would have done in a situation before I acted?"
Noticing that Minerva's hand had stopped the tender strokes, Hermione looked more closely at her friend. She was more than surprised to see big tears rolling down the elder woman's cheek. She quickly got up and sat on the sofa, facing her friend. "What is it?" she asked concerned and reached out to wipe the salty tears. "Did I say something wrong?"
Minerva caught Hermione's hand and brought it to her lips, shaking her head. She was too emotional to try and talk right now, and Hermione did what she always did when the stern woman got overwhelmed. She enlarged the sofa to sit beside her and gathered Minerva into her arms.
"I mi…ssed you,…too. So much."
It was then that Hermione realized that Minerva was not hurt. No, she was touched by her words. It was unspoken, but it was right there in the room with them. The question why they hadn't stayed in contact if they both missed each other was hanging in the air somewhere between them. Hermione had half a mind to voice it, but she decided against it. She already knew the answer, and she was sure Minerva knew it as well. Each had been afraid to bother the other. Each had been afraid that they no longer fitted in each other's life.
Hermione tightened her hold around Minerva and pressed a kiss on her temple.
The elder witch nestled in Hermione's arms the best she could and sighed contently. She was glad that her young friend wasn't talking right now and simply allowed her to rest.
Their moment was interrupted by a tapping on the window.
Carefully, Hermione helped Minerva to sit on her own again and went to the window at the back of the sofa. "It's an owl," Hermione said slightly surprised. She didn't get owl post very often. Hermione opened the window and made room for the beautiful barn owl. The elegant animal landed on the table and waited patiently for Hermione to untie the letter. "It's from Filius," Hermione explained and handed the unopened letter to Minerva. She went into the kitchen to get a little treat for the bird and came back with a piece of bacon. "Here you go," she said to the bird and gave it a last stroke before it flew off.
"Anything important?" Hermione asked as she went back to Minerva.
The old woman opened her mouth to answer, but thought better of it. Instead she handed the letter back to Hermione.
"Oh, he wants to come by tonight."
A glance at her friend told Hermione that she wasn't very pleased. "Don't look like that, darling. I'll be right here if you need me, and I am sure Filius will be overjoyed to see you. He was the one who tipped me off about your former residence, after all."
The old woman managed a half smile. It was true. Her reluctance to see him, or any other person, was unreasonable, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that Filius could have done more for her than allowing the authorities to put her into a nursing home. That was the law, though. If you were unable to decide for yourself, your family got to decide what to do. If you had no family, the authorities make that decision. Thank Merlin, Hermione hadn't cared about that particular law.
Sensing her friend's mood, Hermione returned to her earlier spot next to Minerva. "How about we lay down for a while?"
Minerva smiled a little and nodded her consent. Hermione just knew what she needed, often better than she knew it herself. She allowed the young woman to help her lay down and gratefully accepted the loving arms around her. Soon, Hermione's warmth lulled her into a peaceful slumber. Yes, she had missed Hermione an awful lot.