Chapter 50 ~ December 4th, 2009 (Friday)

Minerva rolled her head to the side, try to stretch the muscles in her neck; as she sat fully upright, cringing from the lancing pain in her back and hip. Her right hand was already rubbing her neck; hoping it would lessen as she realized that the cause of her discomfort had been due to where she had dozed off at, her living room. Or more precisely, on the chesterfield last evening while Hermione had been massaging my foot.

I must have been more tired than I thought, she mused as she forced herself to stand, an involuntary moan slipping from her lips. A shower, a long one…should help ease my back. She pushed open her bedroom door, the sconces coming to life and her eyes found blue ones, almost the next moment.

"Why didn't you come to bed?"

Minerva bit back a caustic retort, as she continued walking towards her wardrobe. "I happened to fall asleep upon the chesterfield."

"But surely you awoke before now."

"No." She eyed the clock, noting it was shortly after 3. "I did not." She pulled a fresh set of clothes out.

"And how did your lessons go last evening?" He asked, voice sounding sincere but Minerva could feel a hint of jealousy reverberate through their bond.

"We worked on fluidity through dance," She paused, meeting his gaze with her own. "Let it go Albus."

"I have." He stated sincerely, "I trust you and our love."

"I know." She whispered, feeling a marginal weight settle upon her soul at his remark; because while she did too…it was becoming harder and harder not to notice and spend time with a certain brown eyed witch. "And I love you."


oxox


Feather light touches grazed across his back, bringing a semblance of consciousness to his world; muscles aching…and then he felt hands begin massaging his lower back…down his cheeks…a moan erupting from his lips as legs pressed against his own…

As hands slipped up his ribs, down his arms…

"I want ta feel ya….luv…" Rory whispered against his ear as he pressed his chest into his back.

"Hmm…" George murmured groggily, relishing the way his body hummed.

"Like…" Rory slid down, fingers tightening along hips; "This."

"Ohh…" A groan spilling from George's lips as his eyes sprung open, passion merging with shock and pleasure as Rory plunged deeper…his hips bucking in response as Rory pressed himself fully into his back. "R..ory."

"…yes, luv…" Came his thick reply.

"Don't…" George felt his own shaft hardening in response as Rory slowly pulled back, "stop…plea…ase." He whispered into the night.

"Aye…" Rory ground his hips forward, "Luv…"

George met his thrust, fingers clutching at the sheets; "Ohh…God…" He murmured feeling his erection tighten… "You feel…" He met the next thrust, throwing his head back, "So good…"

Rory began to quicken his pace…George meeting him thrust for thrust…moans filling the air…as bodies slid against the other…and Rory could sense the frantic movements…feel his own body want to release…but he ground their movement to a halt…a whimper leaving George's throat as he held them still… "Not yet…luv…"

"…I…" George innately tried to rock either forward or back, "…pl…ease…I…" His pulse pounding in his ears; his erection…painfully waiting upon the precipice… "God…Rory…take me…" He cried out, no longer caring if he should feel shame or not for his actions as he tried to buck again…

Rory kissed his neck, "I want to…" His gravelly voice murmured, "I do…" He began to slowly pull out… "But…I wanna feel ya…luv…" He whispered as he painfully pulled himself out from George's warmth, and cast a simple scourgifying charm as he turned George around…to see ice blue eyes staring back…and Rory felt himself shiver at

his young lover's lustful gaze.

Before George spun Rory around, instinct pushing him to do what he could not earlier in the evening…and he grabbed the elder wizard's hips and plunged himself deeply into Rory. "Ohh…" George cried, "Y…es…" The warmth and tightness surrounding his erection sending rivulets of pleasure that he had never experienced before today ripple through him.

"…Ge..orge…" Rory moaned as he reached back, grasping his hips and beginning to grind against him.

"Ro…ry…" George sputtered as he lost himself to the feeling, vaguely aware of how his body was reacting.

The way he thrust into Rory…

The warmth that swallowed him…along with the tightness…

How his hips pressed into him…

How the formation of words beyond grunts and moans were beyond his comprehension…

How Rory's skin felt as it's warmth slid along him…

The way his balls tightened…

The way Rory's hips pushed back…

"Ohhh…." He could feel Rory's muscles flex and his world stopped…as he felt a rush of warmth along his shaft…as his cream coated himself…and he pushed forward once more…body spent…"I love you…" He murmured before collapsing atop his lover; exhausted.


oxox


Hermione blinked again as Milksy touched her leg, "Miss Hermione's, you is in the same clothes as yesterday, you is needing to change."

"I…" She finally glanced downward to see her young house elf, "Was just about to." She stated, beginning to realize that it was indeed morning; and that while she hadn't slept a wink last night, her thoughts had been on other things, rather one particular thing…person…she finally corrected herself; as it just wasn't any person, that is where the problem…many problems…inherently lay. Because…she…was the Headmistress of Hogwarts, her boss…mentor…friend…and how could she suddenly find 'her' attractive.

Hermione sighed as she amended another phrase, because she didn't 'just' find Minerva attractive; that was the problem. She should have seen it coming…seen it for what it was; it had started as far back as…

"You'se clothes." Milksy prompted again.

"Right." Hermione absently stood up and strode forward, When really? When had she noticed Minerva…or rather her beauty? Because she had always noticed Minerva…how could you not? She 'was' one of the premier witches in Britain, Europe…not that 'that' mattered…

"Robe." Milksy rang out and Hermione obliged as she unfastened her outer robe.

But in a way it did…as Marx had remarked this past week regarding her beauty; and how he believed she often hid it and for whatever reason last week they were given the opportunity to bear witness. Much like her varying degrees of friendship and how much she permits a person to see about her…

Was that it? Was that the reason she found Minerva attractive, because she had begun to see Minerva for who she was? And…how the elegance…

"I'se need you to change the inner ones too."

Or perhaps the unending heart that so few saw is what attracted her? She thought as she peeled off another layer. Or…was it none of the above and she had always been attracted on some level? Because…Hermione slipped off her shoes, at my birthday I was worried about Minerva attending…being behind the door…

She walked towards the shower, banishing the last of her clothes as she turned on the water. "Bonnie's be here in five minutes."

"Thank you."

No, it was before that. She recalled waking up in a blue nightgown…and wondering why Minerva would choose that, she lathered up her skin. And possibly before I came here to teach, she rinsed off the soap; enjoying the way the warm water felt as it ran down her face.

She turned off the water, grabbing the towel…recalling an evening at the Ministry shortly after Rose's first birthday. The way the gown had clung to her skin, how her lilt had rumbled across the space and…how…

"Hermione, are you ready to begin your lesson?"

Hermione stopped in front of the mirror, inwardly cringing as she took in her own reflection and saw her shoulders sink as she realized that she had forgotten to wash her hair...in addition to the drawn face and circles beneath her eyes. "Just bloody great." She muttered.

"Hermione?" Bonnie knocked on the door.

"One minute." She cast a glance back to the shower, and audibly sighed. Perhaps a braid today? She wandlessly flicked her wrist; her hair falling into place as her skin dried.

Today is going to be a long day, Hermione mused trying to remain focused as she summoned her delicates and inner robes.


Oxox


Rory strode into Weasley's Wheezies, causing Percy to jump out from the office already yelling.

"I'm sorry, we're closed…"

"Aye," Rory stepped around the corner and fully into his way, "I came by ta let ya know that your brother willna be in today."

Percy's face dropped, "Is he alright?"

"Aye…"

"He said he had to take care of something for McGonagall…"

"Aye…"

"But he wouldn't tell me…"

Rory fought down a smile at the family's obvious talking trait, no wonder why they did so well in peddling wares. "If ya 're done, I'll be tellin' ya his message."

"Ohhh…" Percy stated somewhat shocked at Rory's brusqueness. "Of course."

"He asked fur ya ta watch the stor' for the next week. And that ya'd know mor' tomorrow afta the meetin'."

"But he is alright?"

"Aye, I believe ya'll be seein' him on the morrow."

"Then why didn't he just send me a message or ask me himself?"

"Don't know." Rory stated, looking perplexed as well, "He asked me ta relay it last night after dropping off a letter from Minerva."

"Do you know what else she asked him to do?"

"No," He honestly replied, "I dunno."

Percy sighed, "At least he's alright, and I guess I'll get more information tomorrow."

"Aye, I believe we all will." Rory confirmed, "And I'll see ya then, have some things to be takin' care of." He didn't wait for Percy to respond, as he did have a few things to do before too much longer; as George would be awake soon, and…he desperately wanted to be there for that.


Oxox


"Hermione…" Aurora gently touched Hermione's arm, "Are you alright? You have barely touched your food."

"I didn't sleep too well last night," Hermione truthfully answered.

"Holiday blues?" She inquired, knowing that often times new professors have difficulty adjusting to not being home for the bulk of the Holidays including preparing for them; which typically started around the first of December.

"No, rather just a recent epiphany."

"Ohhhh…" Aurora truly looked curious. "Care to share?"

"Not right now," Hermione stated, purposefully trying to keep her gaze away from the center of the table, but…her willpower faltered as brown eyes caught a glimpse of emerald; and she found herself gazing down the table. "I'm still trying to sort it." She heard herself saying as her eyes momentarily feasted upon Minerva; cataloguing the lack of circles that had been there last evening clear as Sybil's crystal ball, least the grim was coming.

"You know my door is always open, if you need to talk about it."

"Yeah…" Minerva's head shifted up, and Hermione adverted her gaze. "I appreciate the offer, and if I do…" She forced a smile upon her lips, "I'll let you know."

Aurora gently patted her arm, "Well, darling, the door is open. So don't hesitate." She turned back to her breakfast, "And…whatever the reason, whether lack of sleep or just needed to do something quick; I like what you did with your hair."

Hermione bit back the laugh at how ironical Aurora's statement was, "Was a bit pressed for time."

"Ingenuity is often breed by necessity." Aurora poured herself another cup of coffee.

"Apparently fatigue and lack of time worked today."

"Yes it did." Marx chimed in as he cut his scone. "And I agree with Aurora, it's rather fetching."


oxox


Exasperated, Minerva shoved volumes of books away from her, several of the leather tombs falling carelessly to the floor as she jerked into a standing position. "Damn it!" She snapped, palms upon the table, wisps of hair falling around her face as she gazed menacingly down upon the parchments, texts, and journals.

"You'll find it, dear; just calm down." Albus cooed and visibly winced as he felt her irritation and anger pulse across their bond.

"Calm down!" She snapped, picking up a handful of papers and a thin journal. "I'll be dead in just under 3 months, according to Adam's calculations and you want me to…calm down!" Several of the portraits winced at the shrillness abnormally coating her lilt.

"We both knew that this day would come, love." Came his disturbingly serene reply.

"Yes, we did!" She retorted, "And for the past thirteen years, death has been waiting and now…after all that time; it has finally decided to make its fatal call when we can least afford it to!"

"Death rarely comes when we want it to."

"Don't you think I, above most, realize that?"

Albus idly noticed that Severus vacated his portrait beneath him, as Minerva's wrath turned towards him…and he found her stubbornness regarding this topic, grating. Irritatingly so. "That is not what I was insinuating my dear."

"Oh really, and what are you stating? That I have to just accept my death, and in doing so, the death of so many of our family? Friends? And if that is the case, what has been the point of the last 87 years? Of our marriage?"

"Fate rarely works the way we want it to love, as you are well aware. And you know that Harold or Rory, even Tessa or Hermione have the skills to beat Johannes."

"He is not as he once was."

"You have to have faith."

"I do." She stated, "But that won't beat him, Albus."

"If you can beat him with the little magic you have left, surely one of them could best him."

"It's not the magic that frightens me, rather his knowledge."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"I am sure you do, because you remember him as he was and not as he is. And thirteen years have past since your last interaction with him."

"Past typically predicts…"

"He was an avid reader, Albus." She interjected.

"But after Esmerele's death, he no longer had our collection to read from."

"And for eight years he did."

"He…"

"Enough!" She yelled, "He is a threat that unless stopped, will kill our children and grandchildren Albus. What part of that do you not understand?"

"That is not his primary focus."

Her lips thinned at his comment, "No it is not." She grudgingly consented, "However, if he obtains immortality, it will be a bi-product."

"He will not achieve immortality." Albus' voice held a degree of strange certainty.

"And you didn't think you'd die that night." Minerva's rebuke causing the portraits to stop breathing.

"We knew there was the possibility."

"No," Minerva leaned forward, "We did not. Rather the following year…"

"This is not the time, my dear."

"You have to trust me, Albus; Johannes is within reach of his goal and he has the skill to obtain it."

"Minerva…"

She pulled her magic and bond to her; his eyes widening…

"Do not…" But then he felt their bond and tendrils of magic, her presence coating him…and then a rush as memories poured through him of Johannes.

He could see and feel the afternoon at the Alley…

The evening in London…Madrid…

And the memories were ripped away in a rush of pain through his soul, her fatigue pulsing so intensely that he could not summon the energy to gaze upon his wife to see if she was indeed alright as his own body slumped within the chair, exhausted.

"Albus!" Dilys cried out.

"Wake up!" The room chorused, eyes split between watching Minerva and Albus; neither one moving. As one, they switched focus; "Elgin!"

He immediately appeared, and Dilys voice directed him. "She did something with their bond, Elgin; and he is unresponsive as is she."

Elgin barely cast a glance at his master, his focus solely upon his mistress, "Minerva…" He quietly breathed as he knelt beside her a shaky hand reaching outwards and stopped just before touching her skin as he noticed the shallow rise and fall of her chest. He heard several breaths of relief as they too must have seen what he had.


oxox


A moan slipped from George's lips as he finally stirred to the realm of consciousness, body sore…and he couldn't be sure that last night had truly happened as he cracked open his eyes. And felt his body stir at the mere notion that it had, taking in the deep navy and linen yellow décor that was so dissimilar and yet comforting than his own.

"Good morning, luv." Rory stated, committing the wondrous image of watching George stir in his bed.

George tipped his head to the voice, rolling partially over onto his side to see Rory sitting in a chair, watching him. "Enjoying yourself?" George quipped.

"Quite." Rory leaned forward, "But neigh as much as last evenin'. And you?"

Just the thought of last night caused George to shift his lower body, his loins already reacting to the burr in Rory's voice. "A bit…tired, but…last night was rather memorable." He narrowed his eyes as he glanced to the window, "What time is it? Just after seven?"

"You're in the highlands, luv." He nodded to the window, "It t'is almost nine."

"What?" George flung the sheet off himself, jumping up off the bed only to feel Rory's clothes rustle along his skin as an arm grasped his and spun him around. "I have to go, the shop…"

"Already taken care of." Rory murmured, "Been ta London…"

"What do you mean, you've been to London?" George questioned, feeling his body responding to Rory's closeness; his musky odor.

"Had ta git somethin' this mornin'." Sure hands ran down George's side, "And spoke with Percy while I twas there." Cupping his hips, "Explained that you were workin' on somethin' for Minerva and wouldna be in the shop for the next several days."

"How could you tell him that?" George's irritation clearly evident in his voice, "I need to be…"

"Workin' on your father's campaign." Rory easily rebuked, knowing full well that his young lover would be upset with his actions; but he had already crafted a strategy on how he was going to appease him. "Which ya canna do while at your shop."

George's breathing caught as Rory's fingers shifted, grazing across the top of him. "No, I cannot."

"And I thought I could help ya," Rory kissed the side of his neck, as he continued to lightly massage the top of his pubic bone. "After breakfast."

"Breakfast?" George croaked, head innately falling back as his hips lurched forward. "Perhaps it could wait…" He moaned as his hand slid down him.

"Aye," Rory murmured, "It could." He watched as George's blue eyes began to turn pale…as his shaft tightened against his palm. "But I do nah wanna pressure ya." He let his hand trail to the end of the hardening member, thumb flicking across the tip; relishing the way George responded to his touch, hips jerking as blue eyes drifted close and a moan slipped from his depths.

"No…pressure." George ground out, "I just…can't believe…ohhh…God, Rory…" He whispered as a wet warmth touched his tip. "Yes…please…ohh…" He rolled his head back as Rory's tongue slid up and down across him, not taking him into his warmth. "Ohh…you talked to Percy…"

"Aye…" Rory swirled his tongue across George's end, tugging. "I did."

"You can't…oahhhh…yes…" George moaned, rocking his hips; "Please…Rory…" He reached down…fingers immersing themselves into his hair. "I…hmmm…am…so…ohhhhhh…ready…"

Rory sucked and nipped, teasing…not taking more than the tip of his pulsing shaft into his mouth. "I know…" He remarked, hands beginning to stroke the tightening sacs. "But…I'm not."

"Ple…ase….Rory…" His hips began to move forward... "Ple…" The rest of his words drifted off into a deep guttural moan as Rory encompassed him, completely.


Oxox


"The Headmistress can." Came the resolute voice across her classmates chatter, all eyes turning around to the second year Gryffindor; Samantha Meaur.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, with Helena's granddaughter, "She is a registered cat animagus."

"But why register?" Young Mr. Elcks asked, before finishing his thought aloud. "I think it would be better to not tell the Ministry so people don't know you're an animagus."

"Does anyone know why we register animagus?" Hermione asked, the second year class; hoping that someone had read the material they were covering. Hermione was not at all surprised with Samantha raised her hand, again. She was sure that the young woman had asked Minerva herself at some point in her youth. "Miss Meaur."

"To prevent someone from inadvertently using their skills to harm another."

"Excellent answer, five points to Gryffindor." Hermione gave a slight smile to the young witch, "Anyone else?" Silence reigned amongst the students and Hermione expanded upon Samantha's answer. "There is the safety aspect, but also, what happens if the Headmistress became her animagus but was then unable to return to a human form."

Mark Jenkins shook his head, "Never happen. The Headmistress is too strong of a witch."

Hermione fought to keep the surprise from her face at the young Slytherin's remark. As it seemed that she had even managed to impress the unimpressible house. "It has nothing to do with one's magical prowess Mr. Jenkins; as even she could be struck with a spell to temporarily or permanently force her to remain in her animagus state." His hand went up, and Hermione nodded. "Yes, Mr. Jenkins?"

"I agree that she could be struck with a spell, but…" He again shook his blond head, "I doubt it; she's far too clever."

Yes, she is. Hermione thought, More clever than anyone truly knows or realizes.

"And that's why she's the Head of Hogwarts." Jenkins voice held a note of pride within it, and in conjunction with the overwhelming rumble of a response from both the Gryffindors and Slytherins, especially the latter, it completely surprised her. Not because they supported her, because when Dumbledore was Headmaster, he was supported by most of the student body; however, not by most of the Slytherins. And from the overwhelming response she just heard, that didn't sound at all like that was the case; quite the opposite really. Which, considering the growing ill-climate in the wizarding world, it heartened Hermione…in that there could be unity.

"We are not here to speculate as to why Professor McGonagall is the Headmistress." Hermione stated, reigning the classes attention back to the lesson. "Rather the ability to transfigure a living animal into another living animal; and how this skill later becomes the basis for animagus training." Hermione inwardly sighed as Samantha's hand shot into the air. "Miss Meaur."

"Why aren't you an animagus?"

Outwardly, her face remained a picture of tranquility; however, the question sent her mind reeling. Of course she had once fancied the notion of becoming an animagus like Minerva. Who wouldn't? Especially seeing that as a first year; on the first day of class…it had left an un-mistakenable impression upon her; because…her world until two weeks before she started at Hogwarts had been the narrow scope and viewpoint of the muggles' life.

Then came Hogwarts…and the opportunity at a whole new world filled with possibilities; one she completely immersed herself in. However as wondrous as the splendor of Diagon Alley was, or the sheer magnitude of Hogwarts from the enchanted ceiling to the talking portraits and even the revered Headmaster…it was Minerva McGonagall's singular spell that forever altered Hermione's perspective on what it 'truly' meant to be a witch.

And that 'she' could accomplish that too.

For six years she had tried…and then Dumbledore died, Harry went on his quest and she dutifully followed… and…her world became irrevocably altered from the path she once believed herself to be on.

Before she had realized it, she was married…with child and…

"While adept at Transfiguration," She forced the rest of the sentence from her lips, knowing that the next part was anything but true. "I never wished to become an animagus."


Oxox


George wrapped a robe around his body, tying it around his waist; pausing before he followed Rory into his living area. Last night had been…he could feel a grin curl the corner of his lips, nothing short of unexpectedly wonderful.

He had wanted to take things slow, especially given how his mum and brother felt about same sex relationships; but Rory…

Dear Merlin, Rory…his brain stopped at his lover's name. Lover's name…he repeated, his grin growing. Lover…

It was a word that until now had been foreign in his personal vocabulary, but one…he was quickly loving the sound of.

And Rory was an excellent lover. One he had only dreamed of encountering.

George ran his hands through his hair, hoping to tame it as he stepped out from the bedroom and felt his heart burst at the bouquets of white roses littering the living room. Rory was a romantic.

"Tea or coffee for breakfast?" His deep voice rumbling from the kitchen.

"Coffee." George stated, the fragrance of the roses sweeping over his senses. "The roses are beautiful."

"As are you." Rory came out from the kitchen, two cups poised in his hands. "Here."

"Thank you." George took the proffered cup, "When did you have time to get these?"

"When I went ta London t'day." Rory easily responded, "Saw them, and thought of you."

George openly stared at the Highlander, "Are you always such a romantic?"

"Aye." Rory's thick cadence washing over him, "I am." His brow quirked in a way that reminded him of McG…and he idly wondered if, after a seventy year friendship with someone who had become family, they picked up each other's traits. "But only in private," He paused taking a deep sip, "And ta those I care about."

"I never figured…" George fought down his blush, "You for that."

"Life is too short luv ta not express yourself." A roguish smile light his grey eyes from within, "Is that goin' ta be a problem for ya?"

Blue eyes locked on grey, "No." He took a step closer, "But I warn you," He reached out, trailing fingers along his well defined jaw, "That I too am a romantic despite often being buried beneath the jokester."

"I know." Rory's lips kissed the inside of his wrist, but he continued on at the shock contained within his blue eyes, "You have a caring and kind spirit filled with hope..." He stepped closer, "That's what first drew me ta ya."

George felt his pulse quicken as Rory's body neared his own, "And the second?"

"I willna lie ta ya, George." Rory's cadence rumbled between them, "I did notice the way your robes fell about ya."

"I'm glad." George whispered, "Because I did notice the way your kilt fit you."

"And?" Rory questioned as George's hand fingered the edge of the material in question, pushing it up and letting his fingers graze the warm flesh beneath.

"I love how traditional you are."


oxox


Hermione schooled her features as the seventh year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw class brought the very topic of her late night ruminations back up for a second time in as many classes. She had known that today was going to be a long day, but…it had gone from long to insurmountable.

Of course, she should have foreseen the possibility. Minerva McGonagall is one of the leading experts in the field of transfiguration, and had published hundreds articles not counting having introduced, researched and verified some of the principles within the field. She had discussed her articles in prior classes…several times throughout the year.

Just…why did it have to be today?

"To become a Master in the field, you have to apprentice beneath an existing Master; is Professor McGonagall taking on new apprentices?" Ethan Stark asked.

Hermione found herself mildly flabbergasted at the notion that one of her students was hoping to become Minerva's apprentice. When would Minerva find the time? Or energy? The woman was stretched beyond thin between running Hogwarts and the threat of Johannes. She wasn't taking care of herself now, how in the world would she take on an apprentice too?

"I wrote and asked the Transfiguration board if Professor McGonagall was available." Bristal Stevens interjected before Hermione could respond. "They stated that it was unlikely, as she hasn't taken on an apprentice since 1990 and they had not been notified of any alterations."

1990? Since before she attended Hogwarts… Hermione was momentarily stunned, her mind trying to grapple with another minute tidbit regarding Minerva McGonagall.


oxox


"And now?" Minerva snapped.

"Albeit more knowledgeable, he remains the same man."

"Did you not see Madrid?"

Blue eyes flashed, "And you had the opportunity to stop him."

Helena cleared her throat, "This is not the time, you both need to rest."

"I opted to save a child's life. And when I saw him again, it was at Diagon Alley and…"

"He could be taken by Rory or Harold." Albus' voice exuded his usual calmness.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" Her lilt cutting across the air.

"Love, you would have beaten him and your magic was just over 60 percent."

"It isna about strength." Her brogue becoming prevalent, indicating to both Albus and Helena how upset she was getting. "But skill."

"Harold has the necessary skill to best him."

"And I am unwilling to risk his life in conjunction with Helena's."

"Dear we are both…"

Minerva cut off Helena's remark, "Alive, and I want you to both remain that way for a very long time. And if Harold tries to take Johannes, you won't remain that way."

"How can you be certain of that? Harold is an expert dualist."

"He is, however, Johannes had access to material that even Harold knows little about."

"Your library." Helena whispered more to herself than aloud.

"But Harold has overseen the Department of Mysteries and…"

"No!" Minerva cried out, "I refuse to entertain the notion unless there are no others! I care about you and Harold far too much, and I am already dying; whereas neither of you are."

"Minerva you are being obtuse." Helena's jaw dropped open at Albus' harsh comment to his wife, her dearest friend; because while Minerva was being stubborn, she was also being a realist. Minerva was dying. There was nothing anyone, not even her and her endless supply of knowledge in the medical profession could do to save Minerva. However, as far as trusting Minerva…she did so without reservation; and that meant her judgment too. Because, she had known her for over seventy-five years; and while they joked about many things…their lives and the lives of their loved ones was never something that either joked about…and if she believed Johannes would kill Harold, Helena believed her. She watched as Minerva's jaw flexed, brow arching and Helena was thankful that her tirade was focused elsewhere. Though, Helena couldn't help but wonder how frequent their disagreements occurred; because when he was alive, they were few and far between…when they did have a hellacious discord, their amorous make-up…helped to assuage any negative feelings…but what in heaven's name did they do now to clear the air, save for another row?

"Kingsley, have you somehow transferred your consciousness into my husband's portrait?"

Helena coughed at the biting retort, oh…dear. She thought, wondering how Minerva and Albus would possibly make up after this.

"As you seem less charming, rather insensitive and babbling about as though you've become the baboon that currently holds the distinction of Minister of Magic."


Oxox


Hermione felt a weight settle upon her shoulders as the last of her students exited the classroom; her day was far from over. She still had another three classes to teach before dinner, but it was where she was supposed to be and who she was spending her evening with that was the source of her dread.

As she would be facing the very person who had incessantly plagued her thoughts since last evening; and whose presence had managed to infiltrate the scant few times when she had the opportunity to distract her ruminations.

A faint knock broke her thoughts; and she turned to see… "Helena?" She innately drifted forward, "What are you doing here?" Brown eyes flickered towards the door and the area that held Minerva's quarters.

"Stopping by to see an old friend." Helena glided in, an air of grace and distinction mixing with her maroon robes as they smartly flowed around her; the door slowly closing behind her as she stepped into the classroom.

"Did something happen?" Hermione couldn't help the worry from lining her voice.

"As usual, she's just been pushing herself a bit too far." Helena paused, eyes momentarily narrowing as if in thought.

"Her hip?"

"No," Helena honestly stated, "Her imprudent nature surfaced, especially after being badgered by her husband."

Hermione frowned, "I don't…"

"She and Albus had a rather fretful discord, and I stopped by to make sure she was alright."

"And you are telling me this, why?" Hermione inquired, knowing that Helena would not breach Minerva's trust without cause.

"Because…" Helena's voice died away as she recalled the ferocious words being exchanged between Minerva and Albus…

"You well know that I never held a desire to become Minister; nor am I being insensitive. I am merely pointing out there are possibilities beyond what has become your narrow scope and vision."

"Narrow…" A rose hue graced her cheeks, "Is what 'your' view was with Harry."

He pulled his glasses from his crooked nose, "To permit too many persons to know of my plans with Voldemort about…"

"Your bloody plans! Not ours, but yours. Do ya not even hear what ya are sayin'? And ya call me narrow!"

"They were OUR plans, we discussed…"

"Rather dictated. I don't recall it being much of a discussion that summer!"

"You suggest that I work with Harry."

"Aye, ta work with."

Helena blinked, forcing the conversation that she never should have been privy to away; as the conversation continued to falter as their discord grew. "I was hoping you might have a minute to check upon her later." Helena drew her gaze back to the startled younger woman. "As I have a benefit this evening that I am unable to escape from."

"You said she had an argument with Dumbledore," Helena nodded…and inwardly realized her faux pas. "How's that possible, unless it was with his portrait?"

"It was." Helena hurriedly stated, hoping that Hermione's sharp mind didn't piece together the obscure clues with the large morsel she had just dropped unbeknownst in her lap. "Seems there was an unresolved issue regarding Harry and scope of his plans from the Dark Lord's days."

There was a knock, and the two women glanced to the door. "I was supposed to see her for another lesson this evening."

"She has left Hogwarts for the afternoon, and from her sour mood upon leaving;" Along with Albus', "I doubt she'll be back until breakfast tomorrow."

"I'll check on her after dinner." Hermione found herself saying without prompting or effort.

"Thank you." Helena moved towards the window, "And if she gives you a hard time, tell her I sent you."

Hermione went to ask what in Merlin's beard she meant by that, but…a red tailed hawk glided out through the window as the door to her classroom opened; and was reminded again…that she was not animagus.


Oxox


"No, Bonnie." Minerva handed the letter to the elder house elf, "I have no inclination nor desire to go to the Ridge this evening."

"Master Albus has requested your presence." Bonnie swallowed, wishing she knew what to do for the Mistress and Master to ease the growing divide.

"No doubt." She retorted, "However, barring his ability to stride from the canvas himself; he will have to wait as I am in no mood to see him."

Bonnie tried once more, "He stated it was most important, wishing to offer his profound apologies."

"Tomorrow, Bonnie." Tears obscured her vision, "I will hear his apologies, tomorrow."

"Mistress…"

Startling vibrant green eyes pierced Bonnie's heart, "I cannot…" Her voice trembled, "Not today, Bonnie."

"You know he loves you." Bonnie quietly interjected.

"Aye, and I him." The sincerity ringing from Minerva's voice, "But…we had a frightful quarrel that spanned the whole of the morning until I arrived this afternoon. I feel his sorrow and regret along with love, but…I just can't talk to him right now." A solitary tear slipped off her lashes, "Things were said on both sides that require cooler heads, much cooler heads before meeting again."

Bonnie nodded, needing no further encouragement as she had known Minerva since her birth, and her allegiance lay with the Mistress; not the Master. Though, she was sure, the Master would take ill to the response, as would Elgin. Their respective allegiances often putting them at odds with other when a discord would erupt between Albus and Minerva. "Are you taking dinner here?"

"That would be most kind, and if it is not too much trouble, prepare my room."

"Then you mean not to return to Hogwarts this evening?"

"No," Minerva answered without hesitation, "I shall be remaining here. Please deliver the letter before dinner to Hermione."

"At once." Bonnie vanished and reappeared in Hermione's rooms. "Milksy." She called out; the young house elf materialized in front of her.

"Miss Bonnie, what is you doing here?"

"Please deliver this to Hermione." She extended her hand out, "It is from the Mistress and of most importance."


Oxox


Hermione lifted her gaze, immediately noticing the rolled parchment now resting beside her left hand. Her eyes scanned the fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins; all of whom were busy copying their notes before the practical part of the lesson.

Momentarily assured that her students were occupied, the edge of her nail slitting the wax seal.

Hermione,

I will not be able to attend this evening's lesson, however, please be assured that it has nothing to do with the events of last night. Thanks to your care, there is little bruising upon my foot.

It would be assistive if you practice with Neville tonight.

Minerva

Hermione's grasped a piece of parchment, scribbling a note to Neville and asking for his assistance for an hour; less he could stand two after dinner. Then, she'd go to the Manor…to see how Minerva was faring.

Despite having an innate desire to end this class and dart off to the Manor to see her at once.


Oxox


"I still don't understand why she conducted the interview with the Prophet." George took a hearty swallow of mead; "It's only a matter of time before there is a recall election."

"She has her reasons." Rory finished cutting his steak.

"But why expedite it?" He shook his head, "Her resources are stretched, why not keep her focus upon Harkiss?"

"Her movements are being tracked by the Unspeakable division, and I am sure that has hindered her movement and response ta Johannes."

"There is more, isn't there?" George narrowed his eyes, leaning forward, forearms on the table. "That's why you and she had a disagreement about Aegis."

"Aye, George." Rory grasped his own drink, "There is, but I am goin' ta ask ya not ta inquire." A solemn expression washed over rugged features, "And ta trust me."

"What is it, Rory?" George easily read the sorrow in grey eyes, "What's going on with McG that you aren't telling me? Or anyone for that matter?"

"I canna say, luv. So, please, do na ask me again." Rory's fingers tightened his grip on his glass.

"Rory…"

"Don't." Rory interrupted, "I luv ya." His eyes burrowing into blue ones, "I truly do. I have na felt like this since Derrick died; but this…" He pointed to the two of them, "Is second ta Minerva, George. I've known her for eighty-two years; we met when I was six and she was five. She's my sister; and I will let ya know what I can, but some of it…will be off limits, luv. And for that, I am incredibly sorry; and I hope ya will understand because…" The tenor of his voice broke, "I do na wanna lose ya."

"It isn't about you making a choice," George laced his fingers through Rory's, "I understand that you and McG are family; probably even closer than my family. I just want to be here for you…" He squeezed his fingers, "Both of you. Because…from the look in your eyes, your actions…and her irregular actions; it doesn't add up. Unless…" He gasped, and went to withdraw his hand, but Rory's grasped his in return…their eyes locking, "Last night, when you thought I was her…you stated that you didn't care if she was d…" The word died upon his lips as he stared wide eyed at his lover, disbelieving. "Tell me, that I'm wrong."

"Ya aren't." Rory whispered in a choked voice, and teary eyes.

"How long?"

"Not long." He swallowed, "But no one knows save for her family, nor can they know."

"Rory…"

"It's her wish, George. And, I will abide by it." Grey eyes stilled his breathing, "As will you."


oxox


Hermione paused outside the gates, eyes taking in the splendor of McGonagall Manor; the effervescent light spilling across the brown grass with snow sprinkled across it as she took in a deep breath of the cold crisp air.

It was beautiful. Just like…its owner.

Hugging her cloak tighter against her frame, she quickly crossed the front lawns of the property; the brittle snow crunching beneath her feet. She raised her hand, and before she could knock upon the door…it opened to reveal Bonnie staring up at her in a pressed white wool shirt and a tartan skirt.

"Miss Hermione, this is unexpected."

"Do you mind if I come in?"

Bonnie opened the door, "Mistress is upstairs, in the library."

Hermione nodded, "How is she?" She slipped off her cloak and hung it upon the hook. "Helena asked me to stop by."

"She has been reading all afternoon between her correspondence."

"Thank you, Bonnie."

"Would you like some tea, shortly?"

"Perhaps a glass of whisky."

"Very well." She stated, and watched as Hermione began ascending the stairs to the den as a coy smile curled the tip of Bonnie's lips, as she whispered. "It seems as though you are acquiring the Mistress' tastes."


oxox


Harold gently rubbed his hand along the smooth skin of her back, "They've had arguments before."

"I know." Helena shifted her head, letting it fall completely upon his shoulder. "And perhaps its because I haven't seen one in years."

He shifted, kissing the top of her head. "She'll be fine." He murmured into her hair so as to muffle their conversation as Mitchell and Dawn Stanley neared them.

"I hope so." Helena straightened her back, forcing a smile upon her face as a resounding pulse of love swelled from within, Harold letting her know that he was there for her. "Dawn," She extended her hand outward, "You look lovely." She clasped her husband's hand, "And Mitchell, I am so happy both of you could come."

"Thank you for the invite," Dawn began and Helena inwardly sighed wishing she could check upon Minerva; but resigned herself to her obligation. Eternally thankful that Harold was there beside her; his hand firmly wrapped around her waist…giving both physical and emotional comfort…as she smiled, and mingled with some of St. Mungos largest benefactors. Wishing, the hospitals greatest benefactor was here this evening…so she could make sure her friend was alright.


oxox


Hermione stopped for a moment, eyes sweeping over her open and unguarded visage as the fire crackled behind her. Even from this distance, she could see the redness that lined her eyes and the dark circles beneath; but that was not as disconcerting as her lack of overall presence…that always filled the room. She seemed, small; disheartened…shoulders sagging; a veritable pebble amongst the sand versus the very shore.

"Good evening." Hermione broke the stillness, knowing that if she had waited too long Minerva would have known she was there. At once, her elegant head tipped up; an imperceptible glamour charm instantly descending upon her face at the unexpected intrusion before a soft smile crinkled the corners along her eyes.

"Hermione," She absently placed a bookmark within the center and closed the book, eyes remaining upon the younger woman. "This is a surprise." A wave of concern swept through her, "Everything is alright at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, save for Neville's feet." Hermione remarked, drawing a light chuckle from Minerva.

"Speaking from experience, he'll be fine." Her voice still light as she motioned to the chair opposite. "Please, have a seat."

"I…don't want to intrude." Hermione stated as she sat down, "I merely…" Brown eyes fixed upon unusually dull green, and she cleared her throat; and started over. "Helena was worried and asked…"

"That you check on me." Minerva finished her sentence, "As she is at St. Mungos holding a benefactor dinner."

"Yes, she is. And how is that you know that? Is there a spell that enables you both to know the other's activities all the time? It's uncanny."

Minerva was too tired to obfuscate, "No spell, just close friends. And, I was supposed to attend, but opted for an evening of solitude."

"Why?" Hermione shifted in her seat, as she crossed her legs at the ankle, "I would have thought you'd enjoy spending time with Helena."

"Helena and Harold; but not the drudgery that typically attends as I would be forced to spend time talking with everyone there due to my position at Hogwarts."

"Politics."

"Quite," A note of disdain lacing her voice, "And no dancing, unless I could coerce Harold onto the floor."

"He doesn't like to dance? I'd have thought being married to Helena, that he'd love it."

"Love is a bit of a stretch for either of them."

"Well after last evening, I would definitely not be a first choice for anyone's partner." A light crease furloughed between her brows, "Speaking of, last night you had asked to meet and conduct a training for this evening. You weren't planning on going to the dinner…"

There were times that Minerva loved Hermione's brilliant mind; and then there were times that she didn't. Tonight…happened to be the latter, because unlike most days; when she'd merely sidestep the issue and move on, tonight she didn't have it in her. "No I had not; I would have sent my apologies late in the afternoon to Helena that I would not be attending."

"So she thinks your lack of attending has to do with this afternoon, and it doesn't; does it?"

Minerva let her gaze drift from Hermione's, to the fire…thoughts upon another time, and she let the harrowing truth spill from her lips. "No, it does not. As I have to attend so many functions due to being the Headmistress; and in truth…" Her lilt cracked through her cadence, "I have long since grown tired of attending them alone."

Hermione could feel her jaw slacken at Minerva's startling revelation and found herself, momentarily at a loss for words. How do you offer comfort to a woman…who is the bedrock of wizarding world? Seemingly…un-fazed as the world rested its fate upon her and Dumbledore's shoulders; and then just hers. And yet, to discover; that the truth is far from what is perceived… "Why…" Hermione quietly stumbled onward, acutely aware of how sensitive the topic was. "Not ask Rory or Filius?"

"On occasion I have asked each, along with a few others." Minerva adverted her gaze to the fire as she finished, "However, there are times that it is inappropriate for them to attend."

Hermione felt her heart pull at the trodden expression lining her face, and she innately knew that part of the cause stemmed from her discord with Dumbledore's portrait earlier in the day. "You really miss him, don't you?"

Minerva lifted her gaze, a question in her eyes as she had barely heard Hermione's soft question.

"Albus." Hermione went to elaborate, but Minerva's cadence was already answering.

"I miss his solidarity; his steadfast presence; his comfort."

"Yet, he was not able to offer any of those while you both attended functions as he was the Headmaster and you, his Deputy."

"It might seem that way to you;" Minerva stated, "But, to us…it was not."

"I didn't mean…"

A gentleness befell Minerva's eyes, "I know. And from the outside, it would appear as though our love only existed along the shadows; when in fact it was the very light of our world. Much like Ronald was to you for a time."

"I don't think…" Hermione paused, for speaking of her own failed marriage still held many tendrils of ill feelings and heart ache. "I would have ever described Ron as the light of my world, he perhaps would have of me." Her comment caused a light crease to form across Minerva's brow. "It's not that we didn't love each other; but from your words and tone you describe Albus…as your soul mate."

Minerva felt drawn to answer her, honestly. "I believed he was." Minerva's contralto barely louder than the fire; because even a month ago…she still believed with conviction that he was. But her certainty had been replaced with a seed of doubt…as her feelings for the woman opposite seemed to be taking root despite every effort on her part to deter them. Quelling her musing, she diverted the conversation back to Hermione…sensing her unease regarding a topic that had remained foreign between them. "And Ron…was not yours?"

Hermione was still recoiling from Minerva's response, that she was utterly thunderstruck by the question poised to her and stammered a far too honest response. "I…ahhh…no, he was not." She shifted under the intense, yet warm emerald gaze as she expanded on her answer. "It was a love that spawned from our mutual friendship to Harry." She inwardly scoffed at how simplistic it all seemed now. "We became swept up in the fervor, both having been through so much, and he proposed. I accepted. And...the friendship that was the basis of our love began to become strained by the time we married."

"I don't recall there being a long engagement." Minerva recalled the lively engagement party followed almost immediately by the late fall wedding; the flowing ivory robes accented by lavender.

"No. We were engaged for four months, and got married after I returned from Australia."

"From retrieving your parents." Minerva vaguely remembered tattered bits of conversation shortly after Voldemort's death and the funerals. Hermione had come to speak with her regarding her parents' whereabouts; and the identity she had crafted for them.

"Yes." Hermione affirmed, as she pieced together the time frames and what had been going on in Minerva's life amidst her own crises. "You don't remember too much, do you?"

Minerva reached forward, a pair of glasses appearing beside the decanter. "No, I have to admit; the summer was a blur." She poured herself a glass, and then glanced up to Hermione who gave a brief nod, and she proceeded to pour a second glass. "With Voldemort's passing, along with Severus', the funerals, the trials, rebuilding Hogwarts…" She handed Hermione a glass, "While I tried to salvage what was left of my own family." Fingers numbly wrapped around the tumbler, as her eyes re-focused upon brown ones. "I do, however, recall that you were a stunning bride; unless there is another woman who was wearing a flowing, beautiful ivory robe with lavender accents."

Hermione set her glass down, "Thank you." She quietly stated, "For helping me with my parents."

Minerva took a hearty swallow of whisky, before answering. "You're welcome."

"I had no idea…" Hermione shifted forward, bringing her marginally closer to Minerva. "That you had just lost not only your husband, but your daughter too."

"Very few people did." Minerva tried to tamp down the memory.

"After everything you had lived through that summer, why did you agree to help me?" Curiosity burned in her breast at exactly what the woman opposite had agreed to do, despite what had happened to her not even a month before. "Why not send me a letter back with your apologies and well wishes?"

Minerva's eyes fell away as tears flooded her vision. "It was a long time ago, Hermione."

Memories coalesced with recent information, "I had gone to Hogwarts, to speak with you and Filius had stated that you were in the Highlands and would not be returning until a week before session. It was the end of July and I sent you a letter…"

"Which…I received." Her cadence faltering, as she forced her gaze back to meet brown eyes. "And subsequently met you in Edinburgh."

"You still didn't answer why."

Minerva's emerald eyes remained locked for several heartbeats as she sought for a truthful, yet partial answer. However, none came to mind. As she was too tired…from the months of strain and to emotionally exhausted from her continual verbal sparring with Albus. Standing, she swept away from Hermione and towards the fireplace, hand resting on the edge of the mantle. Almost immediately, she heard the cushions give way; and knew from the quiet footsteps that Hermione had come closer. Oddly enough, she found it soothing. "I…was not well after Albus died. Emotionally…or physically." She closed her eyes as she recalled the events. "And, despite appearances, I was…having significant problems."

"Was that the night you were injured too?" The quiet tenor of Hermione's voice confirmed Minerva's assessment, Hermione had moved closer. Much closer.

"Yes." Minerva obliquely answered, "And with Albus' funeral, Hogwarts, the children…Helena and I were also trying to discover the extent of my injuries without making them known. Three and a half weeks later, Esmerele was killed." She paused as she willed her daughter's face whispering she loved her out of her mind's eye as blood frothed at her mouth. A gentle hand touched her right shoulder, reassuring her; and instinctively, she reached up and wrapped her left hand atop Hermione's. "We learned that…my injury was fatal and I…cut myself off from the rest of the world." She let go of Hermione's fingers, head dropping farther. "Completely. I…couldn't handle it and didn't want to."

"Minerva…"

"It is hard to explain." She stepped forward and away from Hermione, "But my life had been..." Ripped apart. How do you tell someone that your lover, husband…mate…who you had been bound to; had been torn away from you, but you could still feel him? Could still talk to him? Could feel his magic pulse with your own? And, in the beginning…still touch him? How do you accept what happened, when in a way it never did; because he still lived inside her? And…she inside him? As, a part of her had died that day; with him. "Was…irrevocably changed." And continued to die, slowly…and with each passing day; bit by bit. "And I withdrew, from even my closest friends and family."

"I couldn't imagine losing my husband of forty years and daughter too within the same month; let alone the knowledge that you had been cursed and would at some point die to. It speaks volumes that you faced all that, and returned to Hogwarts that fall, despite what had transpired and eventually became the Headmistress." Her admiration for Minerva prevalent within her voice.

"Volumes…" Minerva's voice held a hollowness within it, "My dear, it had little to do with me," Her fingers tightened along the mantle as she spoke a long buried truth. "And far more to do with you."

Hermione was flabbergasted, "I don't…" She took a step forward but stopped as Minerva turned around, and she found herself rooted to the floor, motionless. The green of Minerva's eyes looked to be the color of pale spun sea green glass; the only visible sign at how deeply this conversation was affecting her.

"It was your letter. Your heartfelt request that helped to bring me back." She could still feel the weight of the parchment in her hands. The way Hermione's words sparked feelings within her that death had dampened. And later, much later, she felt a measure of guilt that it had been the desperate words of one of her most gifted pupils that had pulled her back from the brink, and not her children, her family or even her best friend that had. "It reminded me…" She felt her eyes inadvertently narrow, as Albus' words and the events of this past year coalesced with forgotten or rather purposefully ignored memories. The event with Hogwarts the evening Albus died, and the incident with Hermione in the hallway with the Death Eaters. The lancing pain, the energy exchange...the bonding. The bonding. Her mind reverberated again, Perhaps made me predisposed to…

"Minerva, are you alright?" Hermione asked suddenly very concerned.

Her. Minerva blinked as the ramifications spun through her consciousness. As her attraction could be a direct result of the events from thirteen years ago…and her predisposition that she subconsciously felt or had regarding Hermione… "Yes." She breathed out, suddenly needing a stiff drink. Several of them to be precise. "I'm sorry, I got caught up in memories," She feigned a smile, "As I was saying, your letter helped to remind me of my own youth and desire to save my family; at any cost."

Sincerity emanated from mocha eyes as she spoke, "What you did to help protect my parents, I cannot thank you enough."

"No parent should have to bury a child, and no child…" She stepped beside Hermione, "Should ever have to bury a parent for a death caused from ravages of war."

"I can't imagine."

Green eyes softened, "I'm glad you never had to."

Hermione gave a small nod, "Me too."

Minerva moved back towards the chesterfield, "To friends." She summoned her tumbler into her hand that Bonnie had mysteriously filled. There were time like tonight, she wondered if Bonnie was an angel. "And family."

Following suite, Hermione gripped her glass and nodded to the toast before stepping forward and clinking their tumblers as Hermione silently added, And to you.


Oxox


Two hours later, Minerva watched as Hermione bit back another yawn. "The game can hold until tomorrow or when time in your schedule allows."

Hermione's eyes dropped to the board, "Till tomorrow." She didn't want to postpone, but the alcohol in conjunction with not sleeping last night was having an adverse effect on her ability to remain coherent and awake.

"Perhaps after the Order meeting over a bite of lunch."

"Sounds," Hermione covered her mouth as she yawned again, "Good."

"And it seems you need some sleep."

"I was taking after you." Hermione chided, eyes sweeping once more over the game. She was losing, but there was still a chance for her to win. One she hoped to take advantage of; when she could focus on something other than Minerva's delicate fingers as she moved the chess pieces in between keeping her eyes open.

"Thankfully, no." Minerva gracefully stood, "As you would already be asleep."

Hermione pushed herself upright, "Are you remaining at the Manor this evening?"

"Yes," They fell in step beside each other as they stepped from library and towards the large winding staircase. "I'm not up to facing Albus quite yet."

Hermione turned to Minerva, "What happened between the two of you today?"

"Remnants of an old argument." Minerva carefully replied.

"I don't understand why you let it bother you." Hermione stated as she stepped off the stairs. "I know he was your husband, but…" Concerned brown eyes stared at Minerva, "He is just a portrait." And within a heartbeat, she watched Minerva's relaxed posture and mannerisms dissipate; as her angular jaw tightened and eyes smoldered.

"I am aware." Minerva stated in a strangely dispassionate voice.

Hermione was at a loss as to what she had said to elicit the chilling response that transformed over Minerva, "I didn't mean to offend you."

She clenched her jaw tighter, "I know. However, there are times…" She forced the words out from her throat, "That he seems like so much more."

"I know, but…he's dead, Minerva. And no matter what he says, it is only a shadow of who he once was; a two dimensional representation of a three dimensional man."


Oxox


A/N: I'd like to take a minute to say thank you to all the kind persons who have read and reviewed. It means a lot to me! And helps to keep me motivated, as we are still not even half way through and I'll admit that…there are times when I think, 'what did I get myself into'. So THANK YOU very much!

Also, would like to take a moment to send a plea to a fellow author – who is a wonderful writer for those who enjoy Hermione/Minerva fiction; Owlofathena – and also to help encourage each of you to poke her at least once or twice…for a lovely update. She has an outstanding open story that has left us all salivating for more.

And, to Xio – while I haven't read any updates to the story recently, due to work, she has developed a wonderful story – Unhappy…I would encourage you all to read (I know, I will when I have time to sit and enjoy!). Normally, I'm not into AU stories; but she is doing a magnificent job in her story arc, with a slow - natural build up between the two characters that the AU aspect falls away. Bravo.

I hope to have another update in a week and a half; going to try to get back on an every other Friday schedule. (Keep your fingers crossed!) Until then, stay save & be happy & see you all soon!