Chapter 19 ~ October 4th, 2009 (Sunday)
Hermione had relieved Helena three hours ago, the witch looking as tired as she felt. "I'll be back just after sunrise with Harold. We'll take the six hours after that, and also deal with her children…as I doubt she'll want to celebrate her birthday with festivities today."
I forgot. Hermione thought as she nodded to Helena. With everything else going on this past week, including her ear splitting argument with Ron in the afternoon…she had forgotten that today was Minerva's birthday.
She would grab a few hours sleep and go up to London and shop. But what do you get a woman who has everything? Or at least the ability to get whatever they wish?
Hermione had spent the last three hours contemplating that notion. And she had yet to come up with any ideas.
Eyes drifting upwards to the woman laying less than five feet away. Minerva had barely moved since her arrival, which was quite different from Helena's report who had said she had been extremely restless.
A sheet and tartan blanket was pulled up over her body as she lay on her back, her left arm lifted out from beneath the coverings though the sheet was pulled up along the outer part of her arm, the corner balled up within her hand, fingers clenched around the sheet…head resting against her bicep, long black hair draped across her arm, pillow and bed. Her normally expressionless face looked far different as she slept.
Hermione found herself starring...mesmerized by the angle of her cheek bones, the way her jaw appeared without tension…how long her eye lashes really were…the subtle lines of her nose…as it led to her full lips…
Elgin popped in, eyes blinking up at her. "I's brings you'se some more tea." He said picking up the pot, a note in his hand.
Hermione pointed to the folded paper, "Is that for me?"
Elgin immediately withdrew his hand, dropping it behind his waist. "Is not something you'se should be seeing." His eyes darted over to Minerva, "Is for Mistress."
"You can leave it Elgin," She said pointing to the table, "I won't touch it."
An owl chirped below and he huffed, setting the paper down on the table beside the bed. "You'se shown great trust." And then he snapped his fingers and was gone and back with a copy of the Daily Prophet and a pot of fresh tea. "You'se can be reading this. Mistress not mind." And then he was gone.
Hermione stretched out her hand, pouring her eighth cup of tea as she opened the Prophet. Her eyes scanning the headlines, noting that Noraan Nash had been found dead yesterday. Hermione quickly scanned Nash's biography and stopped upon seeing the words Hogwarts Care of Magical Creatures…
"That's three…" She mumbled, disheartened.
"Three?" Minerva muttered, blinking. Her thoughts disjointed as dozens of memories surfaced…their sequences making no sense.
Hermione scrambled up, setting her tea down. "Minerva." She stood and quickly sat on the edge of the bed.
"I…" She narrowed her eyes at the blurry image of a woman with brown hair, "Who?" She frowned, not recognizing her. And where in Merlin's name was she? And why did she feel as though she had been through a wizard's duel…three of them, sequentially?
Hermione felt her breath catch, "Its Hermione. We went to the Glade last night, with the…"
"Centaurs." Minerva said, remembering…the rocks striking her side, their conversation leaving from Hogwarts. "The gildings."
Hermione nodded, and before she could say anything further…tears began pooling in her emerald eyes, glistening in the candlelight as a trembling hand released the edge of the sheet to come to her lips as she sat upright, "Esmerele."
The tartan cover and sheet tumbled from Minerva's body and Hermione felt a blush creep onto her face…as she realized that Minerva had no top on. She couldn't imagine Minerva sleeping without clothing, but then again…Helena had tucked her in last night. And as Minerva heart wrenchingly spoke Esmerele's name…Hermione pushed aside her momentary unease. She'd figure out what that was all about, later. Right now, Minerva needed her. And she found herself letting three precious seconds tick by, struggling over the notion of what she had to say, knowing that she had to, but the words seemed so callous…and cold. "It happened thirteen years ago, Minerva."
A trail of tears slipped down her black eyelashes, as she turned, irises focusing on Hermione trying to comprehend her words and the jumble of memories.
"You participated in a centaur ceremony, the Hukbar. The death of Esmerele was the last memory…"
Minerva could smell the brine from the Manor, the warmth of Esmerele's blood as it dripped down the backsides of her hands, the sound of her voice…but also the look in Johannes' eyes as he realized who she was after all those years of him believing she had died...her duel against Johannes and how she had chosen to save the muggle family…her conversation with Frienze in the morning…
"It's all a jumble…" She closed her eyes, as she tried to find her core reserves, her mask so to speak, to hide behind…she couldn't break down in front of Hermione, she wouldn't…she just needed…a minute. Using the sum of her willpower, she opened her eyes, searching and finding Hermione's… "Can you, give me a few minutes?" She asked, hands now drawn at her waist, made into fists.
In all the time she had known the formidable woman, Hermione had never seen her look so utterly lost. She hadn't even tried to cover herself up…the sheets stilled pooled at her waist. Her emerald eyes bordering on panic. She almost said yes, except Helena's words ringing in her head. Whatever you do, do not leave her until I arrive. "I wish I could." The truth of her words evident in her voice, "But Helena asked me not to."
Minerva tipped her head skyward, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. "Helena." Her voice cracking, wishing she was here versus Hermione. "She was here?"
"Elgin brought her after we returned." Hermione replied watching as Minerva finally dropped her head back down, gaze looking away from her.
Minerva vaguely asked another question, her soul feeling torn between her memories and the reality. "Were we successful?"
Hermione could hear the beginnings of the wall usually encompassing Minerva begin to return, the clipped, precise words, perfect posture. Something compelled her to reach out, "Don't hide behind work." She whispered as her fingers tentatively touched Minerva's bare shoulder. "Even though it happened thirteen years ago, I know it feels as though you just lost Esmerele."
The mention of her daughter broke the minute barrier she had constructed as memories poured through her, "I…"
Hermione covered the last of the space separating the distance between her and Minerva, and wrapped her left arm around the woman from behind. She felt Minerva become rigid at the contact, but she didn't move away. "I'm sorry." She whispered, as she slowly reached up and then gently ran her right hand down Minerva's long black hair, soothingly.
Minerva wanted to pull away, to run…but she couldn't, she didn't have the strength…the will…and it had been so long since she had sank into an embrace…but the times seemed off…Albus had just died last month or was it thirteen years ago...? The gentle strokes of her hair, the warmth of the body behind her…she found herself collapsing backwards…head turning and sinking into the other woman's chest as her body shifted. She reached her hand around, fingers curling around the surplus of the woman's fabric along her side…tears falling from her eyes.
Seconds gave way to minutes…Hermione silently stroking Minerva's hair as the elder woman's quiet sobs lessened. She went to shift her weight around, but stopped as Minerva tightened her grip…a soft voice breaking through her sobs and lancing Hermione's heart. "Don't. Leave."
"I won't…" Hermione said trying to keep her voice steady, "But I need to shift…" Minerva relaxed her hands and began to pull away, but Hermione kept her arm around Minerva's waist…holding Minerva, to her as she moved her leg… "Better." She said adjusting the sheet and blanket back across Minerva's body as she laid her head back down, eyes closing…enjoying the sweet scent of almond that encased her.
"None of it makes sense…time's off." She murmured, "It's like…waking up at the same time in six different days. I don't know what day it is."
Hermione smiled, "Your birthday."
"My birthday?" Her voice fading, as she recalled the meeting with the Board of Governors…how she had been running late… "I don't remember…" Her lilt becoming more pronounced, "I…can't get past, Esmerele…" Tears burning against the back of her eyes, "Thirteen years." She choked, "It feels like she died yesterday, I was…" She stared outwards, one of her hands falling and pooling the sheet into her hand, fingers absently flipping along the hem. "Running late…"
Hermione paused, turning her head to see Minerva's profile. "We all run late sometimes…"
"From a meeting with the Governors," Minerva continued on as if not hearing Hermione's statement, her soul taking the opportunity to cleanse an old wound that had never been properly healed. For she had never spoken of what had happened prior to Esmerele's death, why she was meeting Tessa at the Manor…only that she had arrived at the property, no one questioned it. Why would they, that's where she lived – or at least where they thought she lived. "Several wanted to close Hogwarts, stating it was no longer safe. Lucius…" Her breath caught, "Only wished to open it for pure bloods."
Hermione didn't move, listening to her soft voice. Imagining how Minerva would have felt at the meeting, just a month prior Albus had been killed and then they wished to take Hogwarts away too or at least drastically modify those who attended.
"The arguments that ensued…" Minerva paused, "Even Filius' face matched that of Gryffindor's colors."
Hermione couldn't stop the chuckle from erupting from her lips. "Sorry." She mumbled, a smile still upon her lips.
"I too found it humorous at the time." She said, eyes opening and starring out…images of the meeting and day so fresh. "Especially when Filius stated that none of the teachers would return without all the students attending. Lucius' expression was priceless, and ended the notion of splitting the school."
"And the closing of Hogwarts? How did you get them to agree to keep it open?" Hermione asked, feeling Minerva shift slightly.
Minerva could feel the tears sliding off her nose, down her cheek and into Hermione's robes. "My contract expired with Hogwarts."
Hermione knew she was missing several details not enabling her to have a baseline to piece together what she needed to understand Minerva's comment. "I don't understand." She whispered softly, running her hand down her hair.
"We all operate on contracts, at the time I had just finished my fortieth year and the end of a five year contract." The tears now totally obscuring her vision as she continued on, "I had not planned on returning after Albus' death."
"And the Governors knew this."
"Yes." She murmured. "I had already spoken to them about Filius running Hogwarts."
"But it wasn't enough…" Hermione stated, realizing what Minerva had done. "They wouldn't keep Hogwarts open…"
"Unless I agreed to return. They wanted to name me the Headmistress that day, but I asked them not to be hasty as I had arrangements already in progress and would not commit."
"But you committed to coming back to teach?"
"Yes." She replied, "And the meeting broke shortly afterwards."
Hermione knew that Minerva would not have readily consented unless there was no other choice. The meeting would have run long indeed. "Which caused you be late to a meeting with Esmerele?"
"No…with Tessa." Her voice breaking, sobs racking her body, "I was supposed to be there…she would be…alive…"
"You don't know that." Hermione replied, "You yourself stated that the fabric of time is a very delicate thing."
Minerva never heard Hermione's comment, as flashes of Esmerele lying upon the Manor's lawn, blood draining from her body…another member of her family who had perished upon the front lawns…breaths coming faster, sobs harder…as her soul cried.
Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
It had been twenty minutes since Minerva had moved, her breathing leveling off about the same time. She didn't know how light a sleeper Minerva was, but her own body needed some relief especially after eight cups of tea.
With great care, Hermione removed her arm from Minerva's waist and replaced the edge of the pillowcase for her sweater in Minerva's left hand. Slowly she maneuvered herself off the bed, replacing a large down pillow for her waist before taking a minute to readjust the blanket and sheet up over Minerva's shoulders. Hermione could tell the air temperature had dropped a few more degrees as the first inkling of morning began to grace the skies. With a flick of her wand, a fire burst to life and she summoned a pillow from one of the other chairs and transfigured it into a thick navy afghan, draping it over Minerva's body.
"Elgin." She whispered stepping away from Minerva.
"Yes?" He asked, and Hermione turned, surprised at how quiet the house elf had appeared.
"The bathroom?" She asked, eyes sweeping across the six doors…only knowing where two of them led.
"There." Elgin pointed.
"And, the paper you brought?"
Elgin's eyes darted to the folded parchment and then back, "Yes?"
"I don't believe she will be up to reading it today." Hermione stated watching worried eyes rove over to the Headmistress. "Perhaps tomorrow."
Yellow eyes blinked and then nodded. "Perhaps." He said, and with a snap, he vanished…as did the paper.
oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxooxoxoxxoxoxoxoxo
Harold watched as his wife tiredly fastened her crimson robes. "Are you sure you want me to come?"
Helena paused mid-button as she glanced up, "Yes. Not only for her, but me too."
"Hey," He stepped around the edge of the vanity, arms already upon her shoulders, "She'll be alright."
Helena closed her eyes, nodding. "I hope so." She quietly breathed out as her husband pulled her into his arms.
He held her close against his chest, "You said it was like the evening after Esmerele died?"
She nodded in his embrace, "Even her speaking in Gaelic…the only difference was the extent of her wounds, she had additional physical damage, and that she was already at Hogwarts."
"Being at Hogwarts had to have helped." He replied as she pulled back, taking a deep breath. He remembered when Helena had come home thirteen years ago, exhausted and thoroughly dejected that despite everything she had done, it didn't seem as though it was enough to save Minerva's life or even stabilize her. Helena, in combination with healers from around Europe had worked on the venerable witch throughout the night, to no avail. At daybreak, it was decided there was nothing left they could do, except for make her last hours comfortable. Helena had come home to shower and grab a bit of food before returning to her bedside vigil along with Minerva's last remaining son and daughter. Harold had accompanied Helena back to St. Mungos, not only to see how bad Minerva truly was, which at the time he did not entirely believe that the great Minerva McGonagall had been wounded severely enough to land her in St. Mungos, but…he had also gone to be there for his wife, who was barely holding it together herself. When they arrived, he had been utterly shocked at the damage done to Minerva's arms and hands – it reminded him of how Albus' hand had looked after the cursed ring in the old Riddle House…except it had not been confined to just her hand. It had been up her arms…and what you couldn't see was the internal damage it had caused to her lungs and heart.
Shortly after they had arrived, the family left to shower and eat…and that's when Minerva woke up…
Harold stared into milky green eyes, hazed with pain. "Minerva, dear." He whispered, Helena immediately at his side.
"We're here." She stated in reassurance as Minerva narrowed her eyes. "It's Helena and Harold, dear."
"…to leave." Minerva rasped.
"We aren't going anywhere." Helena's voice breaking. "We're right here."
Minerva let a rattling breath out as she slowly took another one in, eyes closing from the effort.
Helena pulled a cloth from a basin of water to lay on her forehead, when Minerva grimaced, pain flashing across her ashen face. "You're doing fine." Harold forced the lie from his lips, causing Helena to glare at him, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want her to know how bad it was…really, what was the point?
"Need…" Minerva groaned eyes fluttering open, "To leave."
"You're in St. Mungos, dear. We're doing everything we can." Helena gently placed the cloth on her burning forehead, "You have severe burns up both of your arms."
Minerva reached out, withered blackened hand wrapping around Harold's. "Toilieh." She whispered, voice raw as she forced her eyes open…opaque green eyes boring into his as she pleaded. "To Hogwarts."
Harold spoke before Helena had an opportunity to react, "You need to go to Hogwarts?"
Minerva let loose of his hand, face relaxing, breathing leveling off. "Yes."
"Alright, love." He said as he reached up and brushed a lock of hair from her face. "I'll take you."
Helena's tirade had been severe. He had only seen her as angry with him one other time, when he had almost gotten himself killed. Before they had been married…
"I will not allow anyone, and that includes you to take Minerva from this facility! She is not fit to travel, let alone survive the apparition! And since when do we listen to our patients, Minerva of all people? She is the worst one of the lot, walked around with a broken fibia for close to a month before even thinking to seek assistance!"
"Helena…"
"And don't Helena me! You are not able to throw your weight around in this building! If I say she doesn't go, it's final. She doesn't go! Do you understand, Harold?"
"Helena…"
"I won't let you kill her because of her need to see Albus' tomb one final time!"
"Helena…"
"She must remain in a sterile environment, the chance of infection…"
"Stop." Harold said, waving his wand…immobilizing his wife. And before he could say anything, a low chuckle could be heard from the bystander lying next to them.
"Good thing…" Minerva quirked her mouth upwards, "Already…married."
"Yes, it is." He said, turning to his wife, "That way she'll feel guilty about killing me, as I'm the father of our children." He slid his wand into his belt, "The spell will release in two minutes, and you are free to follow dear. But Minerva asked to be returned to Hogwarts, and whether you have accepted the fact or not, she is dying. The wounds are too extensive," He said knowing that his words were piercing his wife's heart as they injured his own. "We both owe her so much, and if she wishes to die at Hogwarts by her husband's grave, versus live another day perhaps two in anguish, then it is the least I can do."
He leaned down, "I'm sorry, Minerva…" He slipped his hand under her legs, and then paused at her shoulders. "This is going to hurt."
She didn't respond to him and after a second, he placed his right arm beneath her back and then lifted. He took another few seconds to carefully adjust her within his arms, before whispering. "Now, our escape." He said before opening the door. The length of the hall, he didn't see one person, nor in the elevator, but as the doors chimed and he was about to step off…that was another story entirely.
The reception area was bustling with hundreds of witches, wizards, healers, and even a muggle or two. He would never make it across the floor with Minerva in his arms without being stopped a dozen times, and Helena would be free by then. "You realize," He whispered, "That this stunt may very well destroy my marriage."
And Harold Harrison did something he had sworn to Helena he would never do near St. Mungos; he opened a vortex. 'Well', he thought, as everything in its entirety jolted toward the field, 'I never promised I wouldn't open one inside St. Mungos'. Parchment, hats, people, pets, chairs...he didn't have time to see how much mayhem he had actually caused, Helena was undoubtedly on her way down and with that thought, he stepped through and out into the manicured lawns in front of Hogwarts' Gates. Despite years of trials, he had yet to master a vortex within the fabled wards. After a while, it became a running joke between he, Minerva and Albus…neither giving him an adequate explanation as to what ward counter-acted the vortex. Merely commenting that it was a mystery and he did after all work in that department, so it should be an area he was familiar with.
Immediately the gate swung open…
"I see you have retained your free entry pass." He murmured, wondering how Hogwarts had known she was here.
"Wait!" Helena said as the gate swung close.
Harold turning back to her, "Either my spell didn't hold you for a full two minutes, or I've lost track of twenty seconds."
"Let me in." She said, hand pulling on the iron fence.
"I'm sure Hagrid will be along shortly." Harold said, wishing he could abide by his wife's wishes.
"I was wrong." Helena breathed into the still air. "Harold, Minerva…I was wrong." She choked, "Let me come with you."
Harold turned back to see the tears in her eyes, matching his own. "Helena, I…" He wanted to believe her with everything in his being, but he knew that regarding the care of her patients, even he could come second.
"I won't…" She rattled the fence once more, "I didn't even stop to help the throng of injured now littering my reception area, because I want to be with the two of you. I was wrong, Harold." Harold didn't have to move, as the gate released its rusty latch granting her entry.
Helena sprung forward, rushing to where Harold and Minerva were, and upon reaching them, leaned in and gave Harold a deep kiss that momentarily robbed him of his breath.
"I'm sorry." They both said at the same time as they broke apart, and then their eyes collectively dropped to Minerva.
"Come." Harold began quickly moving across the grass. "Her breathing has gone shallow." They crested the small knoll before Albus' tomb, "We haven't much time."
Elgin popped right in front of them, eyes blinking up at them. "You'se must take her to Mistress rooms. You'se musten hurry." He said pointing to Hogwarts.
Helena and Harold both stared at the house elf, they had seen him numerous times over the years, had been borderline friendly…he and Helena even traded jokes, but he had not been seen since Albus' death. "Elgin, she wants to see Albus…"
He flopped his head, "No's, the Masters portrait at the Ridge asked me to finds you'se…he's being saying she's has to go'se to her rooms."
"We…"
Elgin narrowed his eyes, jaw clenching. "I'se sorry." He then stepped forward and touched Helena and Harold, taking them to Minerva's inner rooms. The effect was immediate as she gasped…a blue and alabaster light began swirling through the floor. Harold looked to Helena, her expression telling him all he needed to know, she had no idea what in Merlin was going on either.
"Set her down." Helena said, noticing the bands of alabaster and blue were becoming wider, the magic circling her…stronger…
"Hermione Granger was there too." She began to finish fastening her robes.
He frowned, "I don't believe Minerva is going to be very keen on that."
"Especially since she saw Minerva get healed."
"As in…healed." He put a bit of emphasis upon the word.
She nodded, grabbing her glasses off the vanity. "As in her rooms…the same."
"How's her magical stores?" He asked, both walking through the doorway.
"Just over 40 percent." She uttered, trying to remain focused.
He reached out, hand upon her waist. "You're saying she lost 20 percent from her escapade yesterday?"
Helena's blond hair bobbed, "Yes."
"Helena." His breath fluttering across her ear. "Talk to me."
"At this rate…" She brought up and threw her arms down in frustration. "Dammit, Harold." She spun around voice rising, "She has given so Gods damned much to the wizarding world, more than what anyone will ever know and more than anyone should ever have to give up. And now she is going to die saving it because she has to."
"And you wouldn't have her be any other way. She's your best friend, and you love her because she is so damn uncompromising, steadfast, annoyingly prideful, and willing to go to any lengths to protect those she cares about."
Helena's lip quivered at his words, a tear hanging off her blond lashes… "She's declining too fast, she needs to slow down."
"That's like telling you not to heal someone."
"But, she'll be dead by the middle of the summer."
Harold's thumb gently rubbed across the bottom of her eyes, wiping the tears away. "Then embrace her philosophy, and enjoy the additional time we have been granted."
She nodded, relishing the feel of his warm hand along her cheek. "Just keep reminding me of that dear."
He leaned in and kissed her forehead, "I will."
They shared another meaningful look before she pulled away, taking a deep breath noticing that the sky was no longer misty black, but the sun had begun to rise. "We need to get going, Minerva is an early riser."
Harold nodded, grabbing the morning edition of the Daily Prophet off the table before joining her in front of the floo. He watched Helena vanish in a haze of green flames, and as he threw his powder in the grate he prayed for the strength to help both he and Helena through the next several months, and enable their tenacious friend to finally have a moment of peace before the end.
Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Helena held her breath as Minerva's eyes blinked open. Hermione had stated that Minerva had briefly woken up, spoken about the Hukbar, and that Esmerele had died – thirteen years ago. Hermione had said Minerva had cried slightly, and then fallen back asleep. Worry had been brewing within Helena since Hermione's departure, that perhaps Minerva wouldn't have the will to rejoin the land of the living. And as emerald irises narrowed in focus, Helena felt a measure of relief.
"Morning." Helena said, "How do you feel?"
"Sore." Minerva grumbled, "With muddy thoughts." She said, placing the palm of her left hand to her temple.
"It's going to take some time, Minerva." Helena's healer persona in conjunction with her own worry beginning to seep through, "Five memories through the Hukbar ceremony, Merlin your merely fortunate to have survived the stress to your mind and body, let alone…"
"Not today…" Minerva's low voice cutting through Helena's onset of a tirade and began to shift.
"Sorry, old habits." Helena placed her hand upon Minerva's arm. "Where are you going? You aren't up to…"
"Walking across the scant space to use the restroom and take a warm shower to loosen the ache from my muscles?" Minerva inquired brow arched, as she met Helena's stern gaze. "Whether you believe me or not, I am alright Helena."
Helena felt a frown curl across her lips, "You may think you are, dear. But the Hukbar…"
"Brought up some disturbing memories," She said as she sat up, swinging her legs off the bed, the sheet falling as she stood…and stopped. Realizing for the first time that all of her clothing, except her lace underwear was gone. At once she reached back and snatched the sheet…hand already rising…
"No magic!" Helena snapped, stopping Minerva's spell.
With a huff, Minerva swung the sheet around her body, "Where are my bloody clothes!"
"Elgin has long since discarded what remained of your robes." Helena retorted, "And I ensured you had adequate covering." She stated, mildly surprised that her dear friend remained incredibly reserved about her body, especially after all that had transpired throughout her life; from her extensive injuries during the war with Grindlewald to her baring children, and yet, unless fully clothed…she was anything, but comfortable.
"And you didn't think it worthwhile to transfigure or…" Minerva stopped, and merely shook her head. "Never mind." She muttered, knowing that propriety would never have entered Helena's mind. She was a healer. Minerva was covered by a sheet, blanket, etc. No one would have seen her, just Helena…and then more images flashed through Minerva's mind. Images of Hermione, the scent of almond blanketing the air, the feel of a warm embrace…
She opened the door to the loo, and paused. "How long have you been here?" She asked, voice still coarse from her screams last night.
"I…" Helena began to pull out her wand.
"I didn't ask for a diagnosis, Helena." She said, "My memory is intact, despite the large incongruity denoting the time sequences relating to my memories. The problem is," Her voice caught for a moment, "That I remember Esmerele as if she had been here yesterday morning, that we had spoken over breakfast and also that she died thirteen years ago. That is something, I am going to have to live with and…readjust to. However, what I cannot entirely remember is how long you have been here?"
"I arrived last night."
Minerva frowned, "I have no recollection…"
"You wouldn't." She reassured her friend, "Elgin came to get me. I stayed for just over 3 hours, conducted some initial tests while Hermione got a few hours sleep and then came to relieve me. She was here for four hours, left just after sunrise upon Harold's and my return. Hermione stated you woke up around 5."
"Very well." She said, turning into the bathroom, leaving a dumbfounded and exceptionally worried Helena in her sitting room staring at the now closed door that separated the women, physically and apparently emotionally.
Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxoxoxoxo
Minerva methodically stepped over, fingers rotating the brass handles, the water streaming from the pipes and crashing against the floor tiles. She stepped over to the mirror as the water warmed, eyes washing over her face.
The familiar green eyes greeting her, laced with fresh pain. She gently reached up, touched the area where the large stone had struck her yesterday…and found it still a bit tender, but even the swelling was gone. Her eyes swept to her shoulder, the marks gone…her hands and arms healed after the memory of the Hukbar, even the scar upon her legs had returned to it's previous state. "Only my memories." She murmured, slipping off the last of her clothes.
Initially the warmth felt good upon her muscles, and then her mind wandered…to recent and not so recent memories. She remembered bits of last night, waking up and the sheer disorientation. The mental overload. Her world slipping away as reality and memories merged, as her inability to create and maintain mental barriers crumbled. Then the images of Esmerele, her senseless and preventable death had flooded her mind. And in her moment of collapse, she had spoken words of guilt that she could no longer bear…words she had never meant to utter aloud, and if so, only to her dearest of friends – Helena.
But it had not been Helena, nor her warm embrace that had eased Minerva's burden last night. It had been someone who she knew far less, and who knew her incredibly less…and yet, she had felt comfortable. No, she thought, not comfortable. That was a term she would use to describe herself around Helena and Harold or Rory...
The thought of Rory…brought back a memory of him twirling her daughter in the air…
"Esmerele." She breathed, memories overtaking her as she sunk to the floor. The water running over her quietly sobbing form, curled up in the corner of the shower.
Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxxoxoxoxxooxoxxox
Harold's eyes remained riveted to the paper, fingers and knuckles turning white at the conversation between Percival and Minerva.
"As I said, Percival, I haven't had time to review the article." Minerva kindly stated.
"I needed it back by today to submit it to print." His stance forlorn, jaw clenched.
Minerva felt her heartstrings pull, she had planned on being able to read through his article this morning as she had not been able to fit it in yesterday. "I…" Minerva didn't want to disappoint her son, but the truth of the matter was it was taking everything within her willpower to see them today. She knew she wouldn't be up to reading a lengthy article and providing feedback for another day, perhaps two. "Won't be able to have it done before this evening."
"Would you mind just reading it now?" He asked, handing her the thick rolls of parchment.
Minerva stretched out her hand, and Harold could take no more. "I'll read it, Percival." He said standing up, folding the paper as he walked. "Minerva, I believe Tessa has just arrived." He stated, stepping between them.
"I…" Percival met Harold's steely gaze, "Don't know if you are familiar with the dynamics and mother is…"
His voice dropped as Minerva whisked down the stairs, "That's the point of the article, is it not? To educate us lay people." He snatched the parchment from the tall man's hands, wishing Minerva had told them of her ordeal last night. Or at least stated she was not feeling well today. "So let me see if I feel educated."
"That's not what I…" Percival began.
Harold reigned in his frustrations at Percival, meeting his green eyes. "I know, Percival. But, please remember that your mother's time is not always as free as everyone perceives it to be."
"She said she would be remaining at the castle last eve, and that she would have time to review…"
"Yes, and this is Hogwarts. Things have a nature of coming up."
"Did something happen last night?" Tessa asked gliding up to the two men, eyes gravitating over to Helena and Audrey. "Mother seems a bit withdrawn today."
Harold frowned, "Withdrawn?"
Percival matched his look, "She seemed fine, perhaps a bit tired."
"Hmmm." Tessa stepped around them, knowing from Percival's answer that he knew nothing. And if Harold did know something, he would not be the one to divulge what was going on with her mother. "Excuse me."
"Are the children…" Percival began to ask, but the squeal of delight coming from downstairs stopped his question.
"They and Malcolm are downstairs, with mother." She replied before taking the handful of steps over to Audrey and Helena. "What happened to mom last night?" She asked Helena without preamble.
Helena could feel the eyes of the small room descend upon her. "Last night?"
"Or this morning. Either way, Aunt Helena. She's…subdued, even for her. Her posture is stiff, an uncanny pause before she speaks and I have not seen a sadness as heartbreaking within her eyes since my sister died. What happened?"
Minerva met Helena's gaze for one striking moment as her long fingers wrapped around the top of the banister as she balanced, her granddaughter in one arm against her hip. "I went out last night."
All head's snapped to Minerva. "Where did you…?"
"And it's none of your concern." She clipped, stepping into her living room. "Is it Katherine?"
Her granddaughter shook her tiny head at her grandmother's antics. "Nos." She giggled as she was set upon the floor.
"You're our mother!" Percival cried out, "Of course we have a right to know what vexes…"
"And whether you have placed yourself in danger." Tessa chimed in.
Minerva straightened up, meeting her children's gaze. Stilling their words. "I went to see the centaurs last evening regarding some pressing Hogwarts' business, and did not arrive back until quite late. Now," Her voice softened as she scooped Katherine back into her arms, "I believe we are only missing a few people…" Katherine squealed at Minerva twirling her around in a circle.
"My turn Nana." Callum said. "You promised."
"So I did." Minerva replied as she waved her hand…Katherine giggling as her brother floated into the air, next to her…
"Jordon, Matthew." Malcolm smiled at the familiar faces of Helena and Harold's daughter and son-in-law, "And how are…"
Two little heads popped around their parents legs and ran out at once seeing their grandmother playing with two of their friends. "Nana…let us play!" The small blond haired boy asked jumping up, fingers trying to catch Callum.
Minerva chuckled at her 'other' grandchildren. "One moment." She slowly let Katherine and Callum down.
"But…we weren't done!" Cal cried out, the adults in the room laughing at his pouting face.
"Now." Minerva kneeled down, "I believe hugs are in order."
Four pairs of arms launched and curled around Minerva's chest…
Another streak of a child bolted across the rooms, wearing none other than Gryffindor colors. "Nana!" Samantha stated as Pomona and Filius stepped into Minerva's room, having collected and dropped off the young woman.
Samantha pulled back from Minerva and with a big smile flew into her grandfather's waiting embrace.
"Hello pumpkin." He rumbled, giving her a peck on the check.
She reached over grabbing Helena by the neck, "Missed you both."
And at seeing her brother and sister, along with Callum and Katherine floating up into the air…she wiggled down… "Nana…" She ran over, tugging at Minerva's robes, "How do you do that?" She asked in awe, "Without a wand?"
The answer was lost as a slender man with short cropped hair, paused at the top of the steps.
"Rory!" Percival and Tessa immediately said, light shining from their eyes at seeing their Uncle.
Rory paused at the top of the steps, smile lighting his face at the heartwarming scene before him. There, in the middle of the what he knew was the ever expanding room, was for all intents and purposes, his sister, Minerva…Allison and Douglas Maeur along with Tessa's children floating seven feet above the floor as young Samantha Maeur gazed up expectantly to Minerva as she asked questions, thirsting for knowledge.
Around the outer rim of the room was what now encompassed the family. Tessa was standing next to Audrey, and Helena…who had gravitated next to her husband, Harold who was standing by Percival. Jordan and Matthew were conversing with Pomona and Filius…the center, holding it together was Minerva.
"Hello, love." Rory said, stepping into the room and striding up next to Minerva and swept Samantha up into his arms, and twirled Minerva around…
Harold immediately pulling his wand out to catch the children.
"That was not funny." Minerva stated, body tipped back in a low dip of a dance move.
Rory's laugh died on his lips at the shadowy eyes staring back at him, "You went through with it."
He was the only person who had known what she was going to attempt last night. "Yes." She stated as they stood back up.
"Wow!" Samantha said, "Do that again!"
Rory turned his head to Samantha, "If you think that is wonderful, perhaps at some point Nana and I will dance for you." He finished with a wink before turning back to Minerva, her emotions buried behind her stoic face…but he knew it was a pretense. The pain was too close in her eyes, "I'm sorry, love." He whispered into her ear so as not to be heard by the others as he wrapped her in a warm hug. "I'm so sorry."
Minerva allowed herself a moment to draw strength from his embrace, before stepping back. Smiling forced upon her lips, "I still don't think you'll draw me onto the dance floor."
"I don't know…" He stated conspiratorially, "The day is young."
xoxoxoxxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxox
Minerva lifted her gaze up, eyes narrowing behind her gold frames. "I'll be right back, dear." She absently stated to her grandson as she stood and headed towards the brass banister.
Rory watched, concern upon his chiseled features as the joy fell from Minerva's face as her private life was interrupted by work, her walls instantly coming back up.
Immediately Filius extricated himself from his conversation with Harold, seeing the same thing as Rory. "I'll go Minerva." A tender smile upon his face.
Minerva paused, "I shall just be a moment." She said, "I'll let you speak with Marx shortly, instead."
Filius was about to ask what in Merlin she was referring to, but she was already gliding down the steps, disappearing from view.
Minerva stepped off the staircase as the door to her office opened and Hermione Granger walked through. Her eyes looked tired, face mildly drawn…a long gash upon her cheek, she was dressed in non-traditional wizard clothing, opting for a long-sleeved muggle cobalt blue sweater and jeans. "Good afternoon, Hermione."
Hermione had been surprised when the familiar green door had appeared, knowing that she would be getting off at Minerva's office. What she had not anticipated was seeing Minerva downstairs, in her office. "How are you feeling?" She asked, eyes sweeping over the woman, surprised to see an insurmountable wall and stoic face greeting her eyes.
A wave of children's laughter swept from her living room, "A bit tired." She stated, honestly. "The family has been here for a few hours."
Hermione couldn't help her gaze as it gravitated upwards, towards the stray sounds hoping to catch a glimpse of who she considered family. "Then Helena is still here?" She inquired, pulling her brown eyes back down to meet green ones.
"Yes." Minerva replied, "She is here, as is Harold."
Hermione allowed her gaze to drift upwards one last time, and then cleared her throat. "I'll come back in a few hours."
Instantly, Minerva understood. Helena had asked Hermione to come back, to relieve her and Minerva sighed, reaching out. "I'm alright, Hermione. No ill effects."
Hermione waited a heartbeat, before shaking her head, "No, you are not, alright as you say. Perhaps to most, that would have worked, I daresay, even your children or I before this past few weeks, but…" Her lips pursed, "Not now. The light is gone from your eyes, the slight slump to your shoulders, the way you hold yourself." She paused, voice becoming soft. "Even the wall you have hidden behind, all of which indicates you are anything, but alright, Minerva."
"Yes, well…" Her hand dropping from Hermione's arm, "I haven't time for much else. Especially healers under hands and feet."
"We're just concerned." Hermione rebuked. "To see Esmerele…"
Minerva closed her eyes at the mention of her daughter's name, "Enough, Hermione." She stated shakily, muscle rippling along her jaw as she forced her emotions to remain at bay. "She died thirteen years ago…"
"And yet, to you, it was like yesterday." Hermione's soft voice and kind eyes were shredding through Minerva's wall like it was paper.
Minerva felt her eyes drop away, no longer able to meet the young witch's gaze. "Please." She whispered, heartache lacing her words. "Let it rest."
Hermione felt tears in her eyes at Minerva's quiet plea. "You can't ignore that it happened. Nor that you have friends who want to help you through it."
"He'lo Hermione." Rory stated from above, leaning on the brass balcony, interrupting the soft conversation.
Hermione smiled up at the older man, "Hello Rory."
Minerva fought off a wave of panic, knowing that Rory would not push. But the last thing she wanted this evening was for Hermione to be questioned by the family, especially if they knew she had gone with her last night. She trusted Hermione, but…she couldn't take the chance. And as much as she didn't want Hermione and Helena under hand and foot, she would have to deal with it for a bit longer. "Perhaps a game of chess about seven."
Hermione nodded, "Will you please let Helena know?"
Minerva heard Helena's distinct gait draw up next to Rory, "I believe she already does."
Hermione glanced up as Helena smiled, "Good afternoon, Hermione."
"And to you Helena." Hermione replied.
"Has our esteemed friend invited you up or…" She felt a jab to her ribs, "Ow." She turned to Rory, brow raised. "That was uncalled for."
"So was that." He quietly remarked under his breath. "Good to see you, dear." He stood, fingers around Helena's arm causing her to come with him.
"Later Hermione." Helena called as she walked backwards with Rory.
"Good-bye." Hermione replied, dropping her hand from its friendly wave. "Chess is fine, or I can bring my marking." She stated. "I'm just worried about you being alone right now."
"As everyone has stoutly reminded me today, it is my birthday." She said, "So, perhaps a game of chess as I have not played in years."
Hermione felt a small smile play across her face, "Chess it is, then."
Minerva gave her a nod before turning away, feeling a bit lighter as she crossed the room…looking forward to this evening's match, the door closing behind Hermione. She walked up the steps barely noticing her hip, but did feel the Gargoyle jump again as she reached the top. "Filius." Her voice clipped, breaking his conversation with Percival. "Marx is coming up, I believe this one is your turn."
"Of course, Minerva." He pleasantly replied, excusing himself from her son and ambled down the steps to greet the soon to be arrival.
"Nana!" Cal jumped up, pointing to his recently built house of cards that towered as tall as him. "Look!"
Minerva took a step closer, "Fantastic." She said eyes peering into his blue ones…that twinkled so much like Albus'. As she heard Filius give a quick intake of breath, and both men quickly exit from her office…it seemed a handful of Slytherins had been a bit overzealous and charmed all of the furniture within the dormitory to invert and remain affixed to the ceiling.
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Helena turned to Rory, worry lacing her features. She didn't want to leave Minerva alone, but…she was out of valid reasons to remain, unless she told Rory…who had been waiting patiently for the last of Minerva's guests to leave to speak with her. "I shall see you tomorrow at St. Mungos."
Minerva merely nodded, "I believe eleven was our meeting."
"See you then." She replied, embracing Minerva. "If you need anything…"
Minerva stepped back, smiling. "I shall let you know." She turned to Harold, who leaned in giving her a gentle kiss on her cheek as he wrapped his arm loosely around her.
"Happy Birthday, love." He said, light shining through his blue eyes.
"Good to see you, as always." She said, "And do come over soon, I need someone to share the port with."
Harold and Helena chuckled as they both bowed their heads before throwing some powder into the grate, and stating Harrison's Hovel they were gone in a brilliant flash of green.
Minerva let out the breath she had been holding as did Rory. "Long day, love?"
Wandlessly she withdrew the pins from her hair, black waves falling down. "Quite."
"What time is Hermione coming back?" He asked steering her to the couch, and sitting beside her.
"How do…" She sighed, letting her head fall back onto the cushion. "Seven." She turned her head, eyes straining to see the clock. Hermione would be there in less than fifteen minutes.
He waited several seconds, before interrupting Minerva's silent thoughts. "Do you want me to come back?"
"No, Rory." She cleared her throat, pulling her head up and with a wave…her hair fell into a braid. "Elgin brought me a note this afternoon that the Centaurs have accepted my hospitality. I need you to give Tenian and whoever else wishes a tour of the southern part of the property."
"Of course." He replied, as he took her hand within his own. "I'm here if you wish to talk about it."
"I know Rory." She said, squeezing his fingers. "It's just too fresh for all the details."
"You have definitely given Helena a scare and from the look upon her face,
Hermione too."
"Hermione witnessed the Hukbar, and Helena saw me after." She replied tiredly.
"Esmerele was one of the memories." He whispered. They had discussed what memories she would undoubtedly need to show the centaurs to prove the truth behind her words, and each time…Esmerele's came up in discussion, neither had foreseen a way to avoid it. That memory alone irrevocably proved that she was not assisting the wizard.
"Yes." She whispered, "As was Wilhemenia's, my letter from Harry, and two of my duels with Johannes."
"Not the one in Madrid." He winced, remembering how she had looked upon her return.
"Despite the pain and the choice, it still remains quite satisfying to see his eyes bulge from his head as my spell struck his shoulder."
"I can see why both women would be concerned, Minerva." He ran his hand up her cheek. "To witness those memories had to be horrifying and I know that your return from various locations…you have been, shall we say less than presentable."
"As have you, love." She replied, a quaint smile barely lining her eyes.
Rory pulled back, hand falling to his lap. "Are you alright?" He asked, recalling the day she had arrived two days after Esmerele's funeral…hair unkempt…robes torn, glasses bent…haggard…and broken. She had remained at the north part of the property for the summer, only leaving to answer Order business or assist her children.
Numerous owls had arrived throughout the summer, begging and pleading for her return to Hogwarts. Asking for her assistance…wanting her to become the Headmistress…
He had watched as she ignored them all.
Every letter…every request…
Except one.
A letter from one of her students, Hermione Granger. To this day, he still didn't know what was contained within the letter, but it had started the beginnings of a change within her…and she had attended Bill and Fleur's wedding after she had initially refused the invitation.
"Well enough, Rory." She patted his leg, the grind of the gargoyle touching her ears.
"She's here?" He asked, her eyes confirming her answer. "Then I shall take my leave, as I will be having guests tomorrow."
"Thank you, Rory." She said squeezing his hand as he stood.
"No, love." He said, leaning over and kissing her cheek. "Thank you, for being…you." He rumbled, "And happy birthday." He pulled a small package from the lip of his kilt handing it to her.
"Rory…" She said about to chastise him for getting her a gift.
He shook his head, "Don't. I found this, and…" He nodded to the box, "I wanted you to have it."
She paused as the door to her study opened, Hermione stepping in. To see Rory leaning over, a small box in Minerva's hand… "Ohh…Hello."
Rory looked over his shoulder, "Good evening, Hermione."
Minerva tipped her head to the side, "Hermione."
"Minerva, Rory." She said, feeling mildly awkward for the second time that day.
"Please, come in." Minerva said, "Elgin is bringing up some tea and biscuits."
"I'm sure a few ginger newts too." Rory chuckled, "What do you see in those things, anyway? They are a bit dry."
"Actually, they're good with a spot of tea." Hermione interjected.
"And you find too much chocolate a bad thing too, I presume." He chuckled.
"Not bad, but you can overdose on chocolate." Hermione stated, sitting down.
"As Albus used to say, blasphemy." His comment drawing a nod from the portrait. "You have poisoned her with your ill notions, Minerva. Overdose on chocolate." He shook his head, "Nonsense."
Elgin chose that time to pop into her rooms. "You'se tray." He said, setting it down on the table. "And," He snapped his hand, an old velvet case with worn corners along with a tattered board appeared into the middle of the table. "Chess set." He turned to Minerva, "If you'se be needing anything else, just asks."
"Thank you Elgin." Minerva stated.
Elgin gave Rory a brief nod before apparating away.
Rory cast his eyes to the box within her hands. "Now, go ahead."
Minerva met his grey eyes before returning them to the item within her hands. Slowly, she opened it…heart hammering in her chest as her eyes landed upon the aged ring with emerald stone. Her mother's ring. "Where ever did you find this?" She asked shocked.
"Never mind, dear. It is where it belongs." He whispered, kissing her cheek again. "Enjoy your game." He said, backing away. "And beware, Hermione, she uses her knights on the chessboard as deftly as she uses her wand within a duel."
"I'll keep that in mind." She replied.
"Good evening." He said and swept toward the fireplace, and out of nowhere…green flames jumped into the grate without appearing to throw in any floo powder and then he and the flames were gone leaving the two witches alone.
Hermione reached into the edge of her sweater, withdrawing a small box. She then pulled her wand out, with a two deft flicks the package returned to its original state with navy paper and silver ribbon wrapped around it. "Happy birthday, Minerva." She stated, handing Minerva the package over the table.
"Hermione…" Minerva grasped the parcel, "Thank you. But know that you didn't have to."
"Nor did you have to, a few weeks ago for my birthday." She replied, her heart warming at Minerva's gentle smile. "Please, go ahead."
Minerva carefully untied the ribbon, the paper falling away from the box, her fingers slowly pulling at the edge and then removing the lid. A silver piece of tissue fluttered, as Minerva set the top beside her…eyes narrowing at the emerald fabric seeping through. Tentatively, she reached forward, pulling the tissue away…
To see a set of her robes starring back at her.
"Hope you don't mind." Hermione stated, a bit worried from the quiet countenance that had taken over Minerva's face. "I know it seems a bit, odd." She continued on, "It's just…in the last two months; I have seen three sets of your robes destroyed. And…"
Minerva raised her face, tears in her eyes. "Thank you." She stated, simply. "This was very thoughtful."
"I never realized how many layers you wore." Hermione stated as Minerva banished the box to her rooms.
Minerva raised her brow, leaning forward to pour herself a cup of tea. "Excuse me?"
"Your robes…" Hermione nodded to Minerva's attire, "I never realized how detailed they were."
Minerva waved her hand, the chess board snapping open. "I shall have to speak with Meredith."
"Actually, Melaine. Meredith was out when I purchased those." Hermione replied. "But, four layers, Minerva. Don't you get hot?"
Minerva smiled at Hermione, "No, they are specifically designed and the material breaths."
"Melaine stated that the only reason she was able to fill the order was that you had placed one this past Monday and the material for your robes had arrived last evening. She said your inner robes were composed of three different silks…" Hermione placed her pieces upon the board. "And that depending on the season, the weight of the material changes along with the stitching."
"Yes…" Minerva cleared her throat, "There are a few indulgences that I have allowed myself over the years. One, happens to be my clothing."
Hermione had been startled at the cost for Minerva's set of robes, they were three times the cost of her own. And Melaine had only charged her the shop's cost. "They've always seemed nice, and I've never seen another green as rich as your robes…but what makes them so…expensive." She said, moving her pawn two squares.
"Albus used to wonder the same thing." Minerva replied, hand hovering for a moment over the board. "Then…" She moved her own pawn, squaring off with Hermione. "I asked Meredith to make him a set of robes."
"And?" She moved another pawn.
"He understood." Minerva replied mysteriously.
"That's all?"
Minerva moved a pawn too. "There was a bit more, but yes. That's all."
"There's more to it." Hermione said, not believing Minerva's comment. "A lot more."
Minerva pulled a ginger newt from the tray, "Some things Hermione, are better left for the experience."
They slipped into silence as they traded moves back and forth, Hermione focusing on the game…Minerva, her thoughts returning to the jumble of her memories.
An hour passed, the moves coming much slower…
Minerva had devastated Hermione the past four moves, taking her bishop and rook…and yet…as Hermione glanced up, she could tell Minerva's mind was elsewhere. "Want to talk about it?"
Immediately, Minerva's eyes snapped to Hermione, clarity suddenly within her emerald orbs. "I believe it's still your turn."
Hermione nodded, "It is. But that isn't what I was referring to."
Minerva fingered the rim of her cup, eyes momentarily snapping out of focus. "I am aware Hermione." Her voice becoming distant. "But, I am not ready."
"Can you at least tell me why you didn't inform me of what you were planning?"
She asked, sliding her queen up the board.
"And how would you have felt if you had known?" Minerva asked, cornering Hermione's knight.
"I…" Hermione took a deep breath, fingers gracing the top of her knight. "I would have tried to talk you into another way."
"And then?"
"Reasoned with you on how to have a similar effect without the trauma." She said, the game momentarily forgotten. "You could have died last night."
"I had partaken in the Hukbar previously, so I knew my odds of surviving the ceremony were high. I was, however, unsure how we would be received by the centaurs."
"And you didn't think that you should have shared that with me?"
Minerva could feel the anger emanating off of Hermione. "I'm not accustomed to divulging business."
"Or anything for that matter." Hermione muttered, "But…" She forced the anger from her voice. "I can't work with you and help you if I don't know what you are planning."
Minerva met the younger witch's gaze, "I will try and share more with you, but…there are times that I will not. Last night, for instance."
"Will you ever trust me?" Hermione asked, the candles flickering along the wall.
Minerva peeled her glasses from her face, striking green eyes no longer hidden behind her lens as she pierced Hermione's brown eyes with her own. "How can you ask that, Hermione? After everything you have seen or heard?" Minerva asked voice raw. "It isn't about trust, Hermione." She stood, eyes blurring from the tears.
"Then why wouldn't you tell me?" Hermione asked, standing up…drifting around the sofa, Minerva already silhouetted next to the window.
"I think it's time you leave." Minerva's soft voice reverberating around the room.
"Minerva…I didn't mean." She drew closer, but Minerva shrank away almost disappearing in the shadows.
"Pity." Minerva's quiet voice sending chills down Hermione's spine. "I'll have none of it." She cleared her throat. "Good night, Hermione." She turned away from the window, half way to the brass staircase when a hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her around.
"I have never, nor will I ever pity you." Hermione said stepping up next to the slightly taller woman. Their brown and emerald eyes meeting, "Ever, Minerva." She whispered, "Not even after last night."
Minerva let out a shuddering breath, a tear slipping off her lashes. "I can't…" She flexed her jaw, "Stand to see pity in someone's eyes when they learn a meter of my life."
"Anger at not being told yesterday. Heartache for the loss of your daughter. Awe at your dueling skills. Dozens of questions I want answered, but not for one instance, pity."
"Those I can accept and understand…but not pity. Life is too short for such nonsense." Her fatigue evident in her voice, "There are times, Hermione that I need to make a decision that can have an ill-effect on myself or other's that I care about, but the decision needs to be made. And the last thing I want or need is pity regarding the outcomes of those decisions. At times those decisions could result in physical harm, and in recent years I tend to place myself in harm's way…" She gently pulled her arm away from Hermione's grasp. "As you saw last night, physical wounds only have a temporary effect upon me."
"That is why you have to come back to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked. "Will a regular healer still be able to help you? How were you healed? I have never seen anything like that. Is there a limit to how badly you can be injured?"
Minerva stepped back, "I'm tired, Hermione." She turned away, "I thank you very much for the new set of robes. I believe I'll be able to put them to good use. And I also thank you for the game. Perhaps, we can finish it one evening over the next week." She had already reached the brass staircase, Hermione debating on whether to follow when Minerva stopped. "To answer, I suppose the simplest explanation would be that I was a participant to a spell that had been cast years ago, and the effect has been rippling through my life for well over a decade. The first time I realized there was any effect between that spell, my injuries and Hogwarts was the night after Esmerele's death. I had shattered my family wards to apparate her to St. Mungos…" She paused, remembering the feeling of her and Hogwarts' magic ripping through her…scorching her hands, up her arms…burning her and the very air she breathed…the wards shattering…and then she had apparated to St. Mungos…breaking their enchantments to arrive in Helena's office. "The magic flash burnt my lungs, heart…and arms and hands. I was dying and had asked Harold and Helena to take me back to Hogwarts, to be with Albus or so I thought. I had been drawn back here, and upon arriving…I was taken up into the castle and the outcome was similar to what you saw last night." Her voice became soft, "The pain was unbearable and I wanted nothing more than to die."
"But you didn't." Hermione quietly stated.
"No." Minerva said starring down at the young woman, chestnut hair glowing softly in the candlelight. "I didn't." Though, there are many days that I wish I had, she finished silently.
Hermione could see the shadows play across her face, and she found herself asking a question she didn't want to know the answer to…but she already did. "But afterwards, you wished you had."
Minerva didn't answer, she merely met the other woman's brown eyes a tender look passing across her face as she began ascending the steps, her voice barely grazing Hermione's ears. "Good night, Hermione."
"Minerva," Hermione strode forward worry lacing her features as Minerva paused at the top of the steps.
"I'll see you in the morning, Hermione." Her Scottish lilt gracing Hermione's ears.
Hermione starred at Minerva's face for a long moment and finally nodded… "First thing."
Minerva nodded, "Good night." She said as she strode through the door and into her living room.
Hermione listened for a minute, heard the opening and closing of a door… "Elgin." She called, and at once, he appeared.
"You'se called Professor's Granger?" He blinked up at her.
"Please have Milksy wake me when Minerva awakens tomorrow."
His face blanched, "I's cannot…"
"Just tomorrow," Hermione stated, "I want to arrange my morning so I can have a private breakfast with her."
"You'se still worried." His face portraying his thoughts, "I's see to it."
"Thank you." She said turning away, but Albus' portrait cleared his throat causing Hermione to turn and look up. "Professor."
"She typically gets up just before five." Albus stated, concern lacing his features.
"I…" She nodded, "Thank you." She turned away…
"And Hermione," Albus' voice causing her to pause, "You'll need to move your bishop to E3 to save your queen."
Her eyes immediately leapt to the chess game, and then turned back to him. "How much longer will that save me?"
"Depends on respective courses, but you still could take the game."
She nodded, "Thank you." And walked to the door, and with a wave of her wand…the candles immediately dimmed and went out as she stepped into the stairway.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxo
A/N: Thank you so very much for your lovely remarks last chapter. To the shippers out there, hopefully this took a small bit of the edge off ;) We will rejoin our characters on the following day ~ October 5th.