End of the line... for one character. *hands out cookies to the several reviewers who guessed my intentions*
Minerva and Harry looked unnaturally chipper for five in the morning as Hermione hugged them each goodbye. Hermione, the other witch noticed, was her usual bright eyed self, though she seemed a bit sedated. "Are you alright?" she asked.
Hermione nodded. "Just apprehensive about my plans for today."
"Care to share?" Minerva inquired, not liking that Hermione was hiding anything from her. She had kept Hermione's secrets faithfully these last months - it seemed odd that she'd be holding back now.
"You'll know by midday, though I ask that you refrain from the lecture till I've had the opportunity to explain myself," Hermione said, eying Harry warily as he munched on an apple while Sirius was begging him to take lots and lots of pictures.
"That really doesn't make me feel any better," the older woman mumbled. "However, you're a grown woman and I trust you wouldn't do anything if you didn't believe it necessary."
Hermione laughed. "Remember you said that, later."
With a shake of her head, Minerva called out to Harry. "Portkey in thirty seconds," she announced, gently pushing Hermione away from the copy of the Daily Prophet which had been used to make said travel aide. Minerva had to appreciate the irony in Hermione's choice of objects to enchant.
Harry rushed over, bidding what Minerva assumed was a farewell to his guardian. They were conversing in Parseltongue, so for all she knew, they were discussing state secrets. "Ten, nine, eight…" she started counting.
Harry moved to grab the other end of the rolled up paper, waving to Sirius, and a few seconds later, he and Minerva were tumbling through the fabric of space-time and a bit of wibbly wobbly after, they landed just outside the boundaries of the wards surrounding the stadium. Harry landed in a tangle of limbs, and Minerva, who had landed as graceful as ever, smirked down at him.
"Teach me how to do that?" Harry requested grudgingly.
Minerva nodded. "Another time. I'm sure you're anxious to meet up with the Ronald and his family."
Harry nodded, and they were off. Finding the Weasleys was no trouble at all with a simple Point Me charm, and the morning progressed with no trouble at all, all parties enjoying the start of the match. It wasn't until they'd headed down to the food court for lunch that Minerva's world turned on it's axis, and Hermione's comments that morning began to make perfect sense.
"Harry! Ron!" A familiar voice called out.
There, just a few yards away, stood a teenaged girl that Minerva had spent three years mentoring, hoping for a picture perfect future for the intelligent young witch that she knew now would never come to pass.
"HERMIONE!" Harry yelped, bolting toward her.
"Bloody hell! HERMIONE!" Ron joined in, catching up quickly.
By the time Minerva had caught up to the trio, they'd pulled apart and the boys were listening with rapt attention as Hermione explained that she'd taught herself to apparate so that she could come today, having heard from a friend, whose mum worked at the Ministry, that tickets to the Quidditch World Cup had been given to Arthur Weasley. She'd been sure that Ron would be there, and hoped Harry would be able to come as well.
"I'm glad to see you looking well, Miss Granger," Minerva said sternly. "Though it was incredibly foolish to do what you've done."
Hermione visibly gulped. "Professor McGonagall," she greeted.
Harry brightened. "You can just call her Minerva," he told his friend. "Me and Ron do. Bugger, I wish my godmother was here today - you'd love her - but like I told you in my letters, Minerva's around the cottage all the time, so…"
"Mate, you're babbling," Ron said, grinning.
"Right. Sorry," Harry blushed. "I'm just so happy to see you, 'Mione!"
"I'm glad to see you guys as well," she replied. "I hated that I didn't even get to say goodbye to you, before I left."
"Well it's not as if we thought we'd never see you again," Ron shrugged. "Even if we had to wait till we were seventeen, we'd have managed to get together again. You just don't fight trolls together and not be mates for life, you know?"
Hermione smiled at Ron, pulling him into a tight hug. "I've missed you so much, Ron."
"You mean you miss him more because the tosser doesn't write you enough," Harry teased.
Minerva watched the exchanged with conflicted emotions. Firstly, there was worry that whatever Hermione had done was permanent. Would they need to be reconsidering Harry's placement, if she was back to being a teenager for good? Second, there was the understanding for why she'd done it, be it permanent or temporary - she was inclined to believe the latter, mind. It was about closure, for both she and the boys, especially when one considered the conversation they'd had two weeks ago with Molly about putting an end to the fabricated life of Hermione Granger. Minerva knew, and Hermione did as well, that this was the last afternoon for the Golden Trio. This was goodbye.
The other aspect of this situation playing havoc on Minerva's emotions at the moment was the harsh reality of the fact that this was the child she'd known, but she was also the woman Minerva was falling in love with. Awkward didn't even begin to explain the feeling. Hermione had deaged herself to the point she should be now, not where she was a year ago, and a year ago Hermione had still looked like a girl. Now, she looked like a young woman, and Minerva cringed as she mentally evaluated the curves in the teen's body.
Bad cat, she thought to herself.
Teenaged Hermione joined Minerva and the boys for the rest of the afternoon, Minerva favoring the company of Arthur to participating in the trio's conversation. Despite the utter excitement in coming to the match, neither Ron or Harry seemed to care much about Bulgaria versus Ireland now that their friend was there. As it should be, Minerva reminded herself over and over again. As much as she'd have loved to spend today with Hermione, today wasn't about her or her stupid feelings. It was about Hermione and the boys.
It wasn't till they were heading back to the camp to settle in for the night that Minerva had a chance to pull Hermione aside while the boys were helping Arthur get the fire going. "Please tell me this change isn't permanent," she muttered.
"Rest assured, it's not," Hermione replied. "And even if that was possible, I wouldn't do it. Harry needs me as a gaurdian far more than he needs me as a friend. I could not take an action that would result in his being sent back to the Dursleys."
"Good," Minerva said. "I didn't figure you could be that irresponsible, but I am looking at a teenaged girl at the moment, so forgive me for double checking."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I hope you're not wondering why I didn't tell you ahead of time what I was doing," she scoffed. "I knew that the minute I suggested it, you and Albus would both start treating me like a fifteen year old!"
"We would not!" Minerva said sternly.
"You're doing it now!" Hermione snapped. "That look on your face right now is all Professor McGonagall. I don't see a single trace of my friend Minerva right now."
Minerva was about to retort, but she stopped upon hearing shouts that did not sound as celebratory as it had been a few minutes ago. "Hermione, get out your wand," she whispered.
"I'm not going to Duel you!" Hermione exclaimed, looking at her incredulously.
"No, not me. Listen," she ordered, point toward where increasing screams were coming from.
"Oh, bloody hell," Hermione muttered, pulling out her wand at once. "This potion won't wear off for another several hours. You need to get Harry back to the cottage, and Harry can't see me at the cottage like this, so I'll go to Hogwarts, I suppose."
"And hope nobody is in Albus' office when you arrive?" Minerva said skeptically. "You can't be seen."
"I'll portkey to the Room of Requirement, not the Head's office," Hermione declared. "I don't really want to argue with Albus over my condition, either."
Minerva nodded, unable to argue in light of what she'd just seen shooting up into the air. It was a symbol she'd not seen in fourteen blessed years. "Hermione…" she whispered, pointing.
"The Dark Mark," Hermione growled.
"It's time to say goodbye, dearest," the older witch said softly, pointing to where Harry, Ron, and Arthur were still stoking the fire, oblivious to the mayhem coming their way. Then she called out to the elder Weasley. "Arthur!"
"Yes Minerva?" he replied absently, still observing what he'd hoped would cook their supper.
"We're under attack, Weasley!" she snapped.
That got Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Arthur's attention. The twins' heads popped out of the tent, and Ron, Harry and Arthur looked her way.
"What's that sign, dad?" Ron asked, pointing at the eirie green mark in the air - a serpent and a skull.
"The Dark Mark," Arthur said. "Boys, grab only what you would not want to lose. We'll come back for the tent and other supplies later. If there's a Dark Mark in the air, then Death Eaters won't be far behind."
"But what's the Dark Mark? And what are Death Eaters?" Harry wanted to know.
"I'll explain when we get you home, Harry," Minerva said patiently. "Say your goodbyes, quickly."
Harry and Ron both rushed over to Hermione. "It's not fair," Ron grumbled. "We should have had the whole weekend together."
"I know," Hermione replied. "But this was enough. You boys take care of yourselves, you hear?"
Minerva knew the tears on Hermione's face were not fake or forced. She knew this was the last goodbye, even if the boys didn't. If Minerva knew Hermione, she'd use this situation to her advantage and Harry and Ron would be shortly receiving news that she'd died trying to escape the Death Eaters. If that very plausible tale hadn't already crossed the Madam Slytherin's mind, Minerva intended to suggest it. Perhaps it was selfish of her, but she was not inclined to ever encounter Miss Granger again. It was too...confusing.
She already had the Portkey for she and Harry in hand. As soon as Harry choked out the words 'good luck' to Hermione and Ron, she placed a hand on his shoulder and muttered the activation key. The word closure Hermione had instructed her to use this morning now made perfect sense.
Once again, Harry fell to floor when they arrived at the cottage, though this time he did not complain. His mind was elsewhere, and Minerva didn't blame him. He had right to fear for his friends, even if he didn't know what the Dark Mark, or Death Eaters were. The whole mood of the group had shifted from carefree to fearful by the time they'd left.
It was a good hour before Sirius managed to pry Harry away from his position in front of the fireplace, and after Minerva had coaxed him into eating something for dinner, the three of them sat down and discussed what Death Eaters were, and what the Dark Mark meant. It wasn't long after that when Molly's Patronus arrived to let them know Arthur and the boys had made it safely back to the Burrow, though there was no word from Hermione - not the teenager Harry wanted to hear from, nor the adult that Minerva knew was waiting to return to being.
Finally, at nearly midnight, a tired looking adult Hermione arrived back at the cottage. Harry tackled her into a hug at once. "Where have you been?" he demanded.
"I had business to attend to, Harry," she explained. "I only just heard about what happened at the World Cup - Albus sent word to me and I came as quickly as I could. I hadn't intended to be here all weekend."
"I haven't bothered to contact Albus," Minerva said. "How did he find out?"
Minerva was fairly certain she knew exactly what Hermione was going to say, and if she was right, this would be the prompt the other woman needed to present the sad news.
"Albus was contacted by the Ministry to identify a body recovered at the campground," Hermione replied. "I'm sorry, Harry, but it appears that your friend, Hermione Granger, was at the match today and was killed while trying to escape the Death Eaters."
Harry collapsed, but both Minerva and Hermione had been ready for it and grabbed him on either side, easing him onto the carpet. "NO!" he screamed. "NO!"
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione cooed, holding him close. "I am so, so sorry."
Minerva sat there, rubbing the other woman's back as she and Harry both cried. She knew Hermione's own grief was two-fold. First, for the laying to rest all that was left of the life she'd been born to, and secondly for having to deceive her best friend is the worst way possible. Minerva didn't doubt that the brunette would feel she'd done nothing short of betray Harry tonight, and would never blame him for refusing to forgive her when he, one day, was told the truth.
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