Chapter 20

Minerva rolled into the warmth, a moan being pulled from her depths as she slowly roused from the ether world – eyes blinking open to a wild mane of chestnut hair as roving fingers continued their scintillating touch along her waist and warm, wet lips grazed along her jawline.

However, the moment was shattered as her brain processed who was nuzzling her neckline.

"H..ermione," her hands came up, gently pushing the younger woman away.

Brown eyes easily lifted and landed upon Minerva, seeing the hesitancy and war waging behind the elder witch's veil, "Good morning."

Minerva swallowed, "It is," she replied while sitting up as Hermione sat beside her. "How are you this morning?"

Hermione bit back the words, horny and hormonal, knowing that their relationship was at best upon precarious footing and still in its infancy. "I slept better than I have in weeks and I haven't even a hint of morning sickness."

Despite her reservations, Minerva turned to gaze at Hermione, noting how her chestnut hair trailed along her cheek and the rest of the brown locks were slightly messed from sleep. But it was the glow of impending motherhood that was adding a rose hue to her cheeks and a depth to hazel eyes; while she tried not to notice the slight swell of her bosom and waist or the hint of arousal permeating the air. Arousal that was calling to her baser and more primal urges, her pulse innately increasing as her animagus knew the scent of a previous lover. A lover who was carrying her child, but logic easily countered her initial physical reaction – because she was still having difficulties that she had in fact slept with a woman who was not even 21 and had been her student only a few short years prior. "I'm glad to hear it," she whispered, not permitting herself to run her hand along the smooth skin of her cheek, instead reaching out and gently squeezing her fingers before standing.

"Minerva," Hermione slipped from the bed, "is something wrong?" she asked drawing closer to the elder woman. "Did I…misinterpret the nature of our relationship? Because if I did…I'm sorry." Hermione quickly stumbled onward, "I...would never do anything to hinder our relationship. And if you only want a friendship between us I'm sorry if I mistook…" her words were silenced by the gentleness of touch upon her lips by long fingers.

"It will take me some time, Hermione." Minerva sincerely answered. "As there are times I see you as an engaging, enigmatic, beautiful woman; other times, I still see you as the pupil I taught in my classroom only a few years prior."

Hermione clasped her hand and kissed dexterous fingers, "If Helena hadn't given you veritasium would you have ever told me of your potential feelings?"

"No." Minerva honestly stated lowering their joined hands, "And while I'm still not entirely comfortable with being with you, it is not an indicator regarding my feelings for you. I just need some time to adjust to the notion and I believe as we spend some time with the other, we will be able to determine if there is something more that can exist between us."

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat at the honest revelation, and she wordlessly nodded before clearing her throat, "I'm going to take a shower, and I'll see you downstairs for some coffee."

"And tea." Minerva quipped with a final squeeze before her nightgown swept around her and she disappeared into her bathroom.

Oxox

Hermione was surprised when Minerva entered the kitchen wearing her Headmistress attire, but her ebony hair was draped over her shoulder in a thick braid and not pulled up into its traditional bun. "Do you have time for coffee this morning before breakfast in the Great Hall?"

"I, too, slept unusually well and far later than usual, but I do have time." She said while joining Hermione at the table and smiled at Tumble's efficiency, a cup of coffee resting in her place and a pot of tea resting on the table.

"I don't think I've ever seen your hair braided," Hermione said with a soft smile. "It looks very nice."

"Thank you," Minerva poured a dollop of milk into her cup, "what are your plans for the day?"

"I was going to speak with Kingsley regarding the overall review of magical creatures' laws and who will be heading up the committee."

"Do I detect an interest?"

"Equity amongst magical creatures and wizarding folk is essential, and this is the first piece of a much larger overhaul that is needed towards achieving that. Besides," she sipped the last of her coffee, "I will also need to supplement my income. Because even by postponing my mastery, I'm beginning to incur additional expenses that my editing and writing are barely offsetting, and I want…"

"My apologies," Minerva interjected, "I should have realized and…" she cleared her throat at the sudden ball of emotion, "for that I cannot begin to express how dreadfully sorry I am. Tumble." Her voice rang outward, calling her stout friend.

"Ma'am." He appeared instantly next to the two witches, large eyes gazing up to Minerva.

"Please ask Griphook to make time to see me this morning," she was already standing as her fingers pulled the leather tie from her hair. "Tell him it is referencing an urgent personal matter regarding my vault."

"Of course," Tumble replied and with a briefest of nods, he was gone in barely a flash.

"Minerva, I didn't say that because I want your money; rather to inform you that I want to be self-reliant and able to take care of myself and my…our child. And that I'm willing to make sacrifices to enable our child a future, because I am not a Molly Weasley who intends to be a dutiful housewife."

"Nor would I expect you to." Minerva said as her head spun around to pin the younger woman with her intense gaze, "But, I also do not expect you to give up on your dreams because of what happened, either. You are the brightest witch of your generation and will likely be heralded as the brightest witch of the age; and I have no doubt that you will always place our child's needs above your own, but I do have enough resources that that shan't ever be a problem."

"But what if…" Hermione felt her throat catch, "something happens between us or if an accident happens to you? I have to be able to take care of myself and our child!"

Minerva finished drawing up her hair, with an inaudible groan because Hermione didn't understand. And she wouldn't until she traveled to Gringott's with her to understand the scope of what was being relayed. "I want that as well, Hermione. I want you to do whatever it is that will make you happy. However, you needn't have to decide that today."

Tumble reappeared, frowning at the women who were now standing and appearing to have been in a mild debate. "Ahh, he has time now if you are available."

"Yes, I will be there momentarily, thank you Tumble." Minerva glanced back to Hermione, "Will you accompany me to Gringotts?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but blinked several times before the words she sought finally found voice. "I don't want your money."

"For the love of Merlin, I do understand that Hermione, and I am not asking you to take any of my money. However, I would like to know that you have access to funds should the need ever arise, and if you will permit me; I shall be more than willing to finish paying for your mastery while you are pregnant and handle the expenses associated with our child until you find an occupation not based upon need." Minerva bit back any further commentary and sighed, "Please, I believe you shall have a different perception after we go to Gringotts, if not, we'll undoubtedly have another conversation."

Hermione stood, "I want you involved in our child's life, not your money."

"As do I." Minerva replied, "Now, if you will accompany me, so we may speak to Griphook."

Oxox

It was odd really. To be walking beside Minerva and striding through the back corridors of Gringotts. Corridors she had never been to. She had only been through the main entry, where business was conducted and then through the western entry to the vaults. The area was as elaborate as the ornate main entry, but with little traffic and they had only passed one other human.

Minerva, though, weaved the back corridors with obvious familiarity; and upon her quiet question regarding where they were, Minerva whispered that she'd answer – later. Another minute later, they were sitting across from an elder looking goblin, Griphook. He had black, beady eyes and gold glasses sat far out on his nose while his deep voice bid good morning to Minerva.

"And to you Griphhook. I believe you have met Hermione Granger."

Unlike with Minerva, he didn't extend his hand outward only giving the briefest of nods in greeting. "Madame Granger." He turned back to Minerva, "Tumble indicated there was an urgent matter regarding your vault." His eyes flashed ever so briefly to Hermione and then back, "I can assure you it has remained sealed and undisturbed…"

"Not regarding the contents, rather the casting of another key."

Disbelief rang in his voice, "Another key? For…Madame Granger?"

"Yes."

Griphook cleared his throat, "Forgive me Minerva, but may I see your wand."

She withdrew the asked object, the dark wood reflecting the light as she handed it to him. "My key." She pulled off her broach and Hermione watched as it magically morphed into a pearlized key. "And I believe the word you will be looking for is abhaile." She turned to Hermione, "It means home in Gaelic."

Griphook handed Minerva her wand back, "And the level of access to your vault?"

Minerva paused briefly in her reply, as she weighed her answer. Unlike when having a key made for Katherine, part of her funds had been moved to a subsidiary account that Katherine believed was Minerva's actual vault – as Minerva had known Katherine and while she had loved her…she had never let her have unfettered access to the family's possessions. And after their divorce, she had been thankful, as the familial possessions had not been part of their divorce. Now though…she was having another key cut to her vault, and like before – Griphook was inquiring about the type of key to have made. As he knew of the treasures contained within, and also knew of her reclusive nature regarding its contents. However, unlike her instinct regarding Katherine and the desire to withhold full disclosure, which she was sure Katherine suspected and even inquired on a few occasions how she was able to manage the Manor on the funds within her vault as it were; she didn't have the same niggling doubt with Hermione. Perhaps it was because she had known her since her first year at Hogwarts, had watched the woman before her grow up, knew what the woman had been through while at Hogwarts, and had heard anecdotes of what she along with Potter and Weasley had been through during the last dreadful year of Voldemort; but what she did know was that her family history was safe with the woman sitting beside her – even if they were not destined to become lovers again, she was comfortable with giving her a key to the family vault. "A pearlized key will do."

Griphook's face remained blank as he responded, "Very well."

"If you will let me know when the key will be ready, I shall ask Tumble to retrieve it."

They remained with Griphook for a few more minutes, enabling Griphook to speak with Hermione regarding the steps she would have to take upon presenting the key the first time; as it would have to be verified, along with her identity and her wand along with a password once they reached the vault.

In truth, it was a little surreal. And she couldn't help wonder why there was such security around Minerva's vault. As far as she had been able to deduce, Minerva was a half-blood whose father was a muggle; so why the protections?

As if sensing her musings, Minerva laid a hand upon Hermione's arm as they departed; following Griphook to what appeared a secondary access to the fabled vaults beneath Gringotts. "I'll explain below."

And so, Hermione held her questions as the small group ventured onto the magical cart. Taking a deep breath, she tried not to think of the last time she had been within the bowels of Gringotts. As she still had not opened her own vault, preferring to conduct all her transactions 'above' ground; and as the cart shuddered forward, her grip on the side tightened until her knuckles were entirely white. She felt a warm hand upon her leg, and without thought, she peeled one hand free and intertwined it with Minerva's.

Hermione lost track of how far they had gone, knowing they were deep within the bowels having felt the magical waterfall; a waterfall that had almost spelled doom the last time she had ventured here – and still they went farther and farther in. She watched as the cart darted past Lestrange's vault and went deeper. "I didn't think there were any vaults past the Lestrange vault."

Griphook's laugh rippled through the air as Minerva merely cocked her brow, as the cart rattled deeper and Hermione's grip tightened on her hand and after another half minute, the cart began to slow down.

"What's your vault number?"

"Rather letter." Minerva stood as the lights along the passageway suddenly burst to life.

"Letter?" Hermione questioned as she took Minerva's hand and stood too. "I've never heard of letters being used as vaults."

"Nor would you." Minerva said as Griphook held the cart door open. "The Goblin's rarely designate a wizarding family a letter, as it is enchanted by their blood magic."

"Why is your family vault here?"

Griphook answered the question while placing his hand on a stone outcropping, "Because of what one of her ancestors did and that she herself still embodies the trait. Only a dozen family's vaults remain in our personal care, and I expect that you will not speak of this beyond these walls."

"No." Hermione turned to Minerva, more curious than ever. "I won't."

Griphook stopped and held up his torch, "That includes to your friends; a Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley."

A pink rouge went up her neck as Hermione turned to Griphook, "I understand."

He glanced to Minerva, "Your key please."

Minerva once again reached for her broach and with a flick of her wrist, it sailed through the air and morphed into the shape of a key.

Hermione watched and wondered where the vault was. As she was still standing before a wall of non-discreet rock; and then she noticed Griphook place the key sideways in the rock. For a moment nothing happened, then the key glowed a brilliant pearl color and leached outward across the rock. It wavered, it morphed…and then an aged oak door appeared with a carved letter 'L' above it.

"We'll be a few minutes, Griphook." Minerva said as she opened the door and motioned for Hermione to enter and she followed.

Hermione walked in and stopped. The vault was huge. It was half again as large as Bellatrix's and packed full of galleons and other treasures. But what drew her attention wasn't the massive volume of gold, but the bookcase littered with aged tombs along the back wall. "Who…why the letter L?"

"For an ancestor of mine bearing the name Leofwine."

Hermione shook her head, "I've never heard of the name before."

"I have no doubt, it was a name from the 8th century. While not a pureblood, it doesn't mean that my ancestory or yours for that matter doesn't go back as far as a purebloods. I'm descended from a long line of witches, the surnames having changed many times across the generations – and the family vault goes to the eldest of the family."

"You."

"Yes."

"Why do I get the feeling that there is more to the story?"

Rose lips twitched in a partial smile, "I haven't a clue, but I do hope you can understand why I said that helping you shan't be a problem."

Hermione turned back to the vault, "You have to be as wealthy as the Malfoy's."

"I reside at Hogwarts nine months of the year and aside from my clothing have few expenditures and little use for money; so if you can use a smidgen of it, by all means."

She felt herself nod, "At some point will you tell me what you do deem of value from your vault?"

Minerva stepped forward, "The tombs," she breathed while gently placing her hand across the small of Hermione's back.

"Do you mind?" Hermione edged closer to the bookcase but felt fingers tighten along her waist to keep her still.

"Actually, I do." Minerva murmured, "For a bit more time."

Brown tresses fell across her shoulder as she turned to see Minerva's face, "Then why bring me here?"

"To illustrate that you haven't to work out of need rather to enable you to find an occupation that you'd enjoy versus one of necessity."

Hermione's eyes softened, "Thank you." She breathed as she leaned closer, "But I don't understand why."

"I've already said." Minerva murmured, feeling the heat burning along her side.

Soft fingers ran along the well-defined cheek, "There must be more."

"No," Minerva whispered as her eyes fluttered close, Hermione's hand running along her flesh, "you are carrying my child and I merely want what is best for you both."

"And what if I wasn't carrying your child and it was only me?"

"Hermione…" Minerva's lilt breaking through her cadence as fingers plunged into hair, "you are being foolish."

"Would you care for me as you do if it were not the case?"

Minerva forced her eyes open, "My answer hasn't changed since tea last week."

She pulled Minerva closer, "Are you always so closed?"

Minerva gave way to her desire and leaned forward as she breathed her response across Hermione's lips. "No, but are you always so forward?"

Hermione shifted, her left hand dropping to Minerva's waist to bring her closer still. "I can't seem to help myself when I'm around you."

Despite the way her pulse thrummed, and the scintillating scent of Hermione permeating the air, Minerva kept her wits – barely. "Try, my dear." Her voice broke as Hermione's lips began nuzzling her neck and the underside of her jaw. "As I'm not ready…"

"I'm merely saying…" she gently tugged Minerva's ear lobe as she finished, "thank you."

Minerva stepped away, "You're welcome." And with a flick of her wrist, one of the volumes sailed through the air and into waiting fingers. "And I believe this will begin to answer some of your questions."

"I thought you said…you wished to wait." She said while taking the proffered item.

"I wish a great many things when I'm with you," Minerva honestly said while raising her hand slightly upwards to trail the backs of her fingers down the edge of Hermione's cheek and across moist lips as a tremble slipped up her spine. "But you have an uncanny ability to break through my resolve as if I had none."

Xoxo

a/n: I haven't been feeling well, so in between lying down, I've been writing a few words here and there. And have managed to eek out a few more chapters on Faces. For those interested in the ongoings of Bonding, know that it is peacefully resting, but certainly not forgotten. Unfortunately, up until the last two days, I have been working 70+ hours 6 to 7 days a week; and next week, looks to resume that pace. I've managed a whooping 3 pages of the next chapter…and can assure each of you that breakfast at Tessa's is 'going well' – especially with Helena and Harold in attendance.

As always, I hope you are enjoying this story as it twists and turns, ebbing slowly towards conclusion.