Minerva McGonagall quickly walked up the path to the house she had visited all those years ago to invite a young and innocent Hermione Granger to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The memory faded as Minerva pulled her robes closer, the icy wind biting at her skin. It seemed a lifetime ago since she had stood in front of this door. Minerva had been pleased to find the 'For sale' sign still up in the front garden. There was a small chance Hermione had returned here after Molly had sent her away.
The old witch straightened her back. She had no idea what she would say to the girl.
Suddenly, the door flew open and a threatening wand was held to her face.
"Miss Granger, is that how you treat guests?" Minerva said in her best professor voice, a bit harsher than intended but the shock still quickening her pulse.
Totally unimpressed by the older woman's words, Hermione asked, "Who are you?"
"Miss Granger, I know I have aged considerably during the war, but I haven't changed that much!"
Hermione didn't move her wand. Minerva McGonagall hadn't so much as talked to her after the battle of Hogwarts. She wouldn't suddenly show up at her doorstep. "What was the name of my last paper I handed in to you?"
"Merlin, Miss Granger, the war is over! Do you really think a teacher can remember every paper a pupil hands in?!" To say she was shocked was the understatement of the year. She had expected all kinds of reactions, but surely not this.
Hermione held her wand a little higher, her voice becoming more dangerous than before. "The real Professor McGonagall could."
That was it. The elder witch had enough of this nonsense, and with a swift movement, disarmed her former pupil. "I can. 'Transfiguration through the ages'. Now, can we stop this madness, please?"
Hermione's face took on a look of unbelieving wonder. "Professor McGonagall?" she asked. "What are you doing here? How did you know I'm here?"
Satisfied that Hermione had obviously come to her senses, Minerva let her eyes wander around the house. They stood in the hall, but through the open doors, she could see the house was totally empty. Did Hermione really sleep here?
"I'd much rather discuss all that sitting down," Minerva replied, and it was the truth. The pain potion was slowly wearing off, and she needed to get off her feet, and soon. "As this house seems to be empty, I suggest my home, if that is agreeable to you."
Hermione was speechless for a moment, having a hard time comprehending the past several minutes.
The pain in her whole body making itself known spurted the older witch into action. "Miss Granger," she brought the girl back to earth.
"Yes, sorry, Professor. Let me get my bag." Not waiting for a reply, Hermione took the stairs to the room that once was her bedroom.
Minerva used the momentary solitude to lean against the wall, taking some weight off her hip. To her annoyance, it didn't bring much of a relief, as the rest of her body started protesting, too. Thankfully, it only took a moment for Hermione to get her bag.
"Professor," Hermione asked softly, seeing her former mentor's creased forehead and the way she held herself.
Angry that she had allowed herself this moment of weakness in front of her former pupil, Minerva briskly closed the distance between them. "Please take my arm, Miss Granger."
The split of a second later, they stood in front of McGonagall manor. It wasn't as grand as one would have expected, but big enough that Hermione took a step back. They must be somewhere in the Scottish highlands, Hermione assumed. The wind unmercifully blew big snowflakes through the morning mist. The young woman watched in awe as one of the two stone griffins guarding the estate to the left and right of a wide path stood to shake the snow off before sitting down again, becoming lifeless statues once more.
Therefore, it didn't surprise Hermione much when her former professor nodded her head in greeting before walking through the entrance, quickly making her way to the door. Following the footprints in the snow, Hermione entered the manor just in time to hear the older witch asking a female House Elf for tea.
Turning to her guest, Minerva wanted to suggest taking her jacket off when she realized that Hermione wasn't wearing one and the melting snow was slowly soaking the girl's skin. Taking a closer look, Minerva discovered that her charge wasn't wearing any winter clothing at all. Thin trousers, a shirt with a round neck jumper meant for summer and shoes that didn't even reach her ankles. This wouldn't do.
"Holly?" The House Elf immediately appeared. "This is Miss Granger. Please take her to the red guest room and then bring her warm socks, thick tights, the brown shirt and the long cream cardigan from my room."
"Professor, I…"
"Please, Miss Granger. You are soaking wet, and I don't want you to catch a cold. Get changed, and when you return, please meet me in the sitting room. It's through that door," she said, pointing to the door on the right, her patience waning. She'd use the time of Hermione's absence to swallow a much needed pain potion, and then she really needed to sit down.
Not waiting for her mistress's guest's reply, Holly started leading the young woman upstairs. Holly couldn't remember anyone being in the house, apart from her mistress and Professor Dumbledore, ever before.
Xxx
Having made the detour to take the potion, Minerva finally sat in one of the armchairs by the fire with an audible moan. She knew the pain relief would help soon and it was just a matter of a few minutes before she'd feel like a person again. Staring into the blazing fire, she shook her head at her own stupidity. What now? Why did she bring Hermione here of all places and what was she going to do with her now? They hadn't had a proper talk since the girl said goodbye because she and the boys wouldn't return to school. What if they didn't get on after everything that had happened and what would she do if Hermione refused to stay? Would she simply let her go? No. No, she couldn't. That much was clear. Hermione's reaction at the door showed clearly that the girl needed help to pick up the pieces of her life. Anger welled up in her body, thinking of how Molly had turned Hermione down. The experienced mother surely would have been a better person to help the traumatized girl, a much better choice than someone who had never got the chance to raise a child of her own. But then again, who could blame Molly? Having lost her unborn child all those years ago, Minerva knew that it changed everything.
The soft steps of Hermione brought Minerva back to focus. She smiled involuntary at seeing the young witch in her clothes. The look suited her, and she looked almost comfortable.
"Please sit," Minerva invited and waited until Hermione took a seat on the large sofa next to her armchair.
The elder woman didn't know how to begin this conversation, and as the silence stretched on, Hermione asked, "Why am I here, Professor?"
A deep sigh escaped the elder woman's mouth. She couldn't tell Hermione anything but the truth, as uncomfortable as that might be for the girl. "I visited Molly this morning." She saw how Hermione immediately tensed up beside her. "She said you'd been to see her yesterday and that she had suggested you'd spend Christmas with your parents. Just that moment, Mr. Potter joined us and informed us that your parents are in Australia and asked you to renew a memory spell you had cast prior to the war."
Minerva had expected the fury in Hermione's eyes as the young woman stood up. "He had no right to do that, and I am no charity case, Professor. Thank you for your…"
Knowing where this would lead to, Minerva stood, too, wincing loudly as she took Hermione's arm before the girl could escape. The sound of her professor's discomfort distracted Hermione long enough from her own rage, enabling Minerva to push her down again.
"Professor, are you…" Hermione started, concerned, for never before had she heard the stern woman make the fact known that she was in pain, but Minerva cut her off.
"Will you just stop trying to run away?! I'd like to talk with you without chasing you through the house if that isn't too much to ask."
Hermione felt her cheeks stating to burn in shame. It wasn't her professor's fault that her life had gone to shambles, and it wasn't right to behave like a child.
Satisfied that Hermione wasn't moving, Minerva decided to take the place next to the girl on the sofa, her body throbbing from the sudden movement. She took a deep breath as she faced Hermione, who refused to look at her.
"I know you feel like Mr. Potter betrayed your trust, but he really had no other choice. He was more than concerned, and if your places had been reversed, you'd have done the same. That reminds me that I need to let him know you're safe when we've finished this talk. I promised him to find you."
"You have found me," Hermione whispered; her voice indicated that she didn't know if that was a good thing. "How did you know I was there?"
"I asked Mr. Potter where you would go to if you needed a place. He said it was your parents' house if it still wasn't sold or Hogwarts. As one doesn't exist as such at the moment, I took my guess."
Hermione nodded slowly. Yes, that would have been the places to turn to, but neither of them was really there anymore.
"Is it true, Hermione? Did you cast that spell?"
The sound of her first name made the young witch look up, and Minerva could see the girl tearing up at that memory. It pained her to see Hermione like this, but she needed to know the whole story.
"Yes, I did. I sent them to Australia." Suddenly desperate for her former mentor to believe her, she pleaded, "I needed to know they would be safe. I couldn't help Harry without protecting them."
The old woman awkwardly patted Hermione's arm. "I know, child. In all likelihood, you've saved their lives. I'm not judging you for that, and I know you cast the spell right; I never doubted your abilities."
Normally, the rare praise would have lifted Hermione's spirits, but today it failed its purpose. "I found them after the war and reversed the spell." Tears rolling down the girl's sunken cheeks made Minerva's heart clench painfully. What had the girl done to deserve that?
"It was useless. I explained and explained and apologized, but all was in vain. They couldn't forgive me. After weeks of trying to live together as a family, I realized that it would never be as it was. The next morning, they informed me that they had made a decision the night before and asked me to give them the life back they had. A life without me."
The tears had stopped and were replaced by a faraway look. Though very painful to watch, Minerva had liked the tears better. Again, she patted the girl's arm, wishing she could comfort better than that and again cursing Molly that she hadn't taken Hermione in. She would have done a much better job here.
"I don't know how you feel, Hermione, but I've lost enough people to know that you will get through this, as doubtful as it may seem at the moment. It won't be easy, and it will take time, but in the end, you will enjoy your life again, despite everything you've been through."
"How can I?" Hermione asked desperately. "I'm all alone now. Not even my friends want me anymore."
"That's not true, Hermione. Harry is a true friend, and when Ronald gets over his feelings for you, he'll come around as well. They didn't know you've been at the house and weren't involved in the decision."
Hermione stared at her with disbelieving eyes. "What happens now?"
"I'd like you to stay here for the time being," Minerva stated, hoping the girl wouldn't protest. Seeing Hermione shake her head, she knew she wasn't that lucky.
"I can't possibly stay here. I could never intrude like that."
There the difficult part began. "Wouldn't you have gone to Hogwarts if it was still open?"
Hermione nodded.
"And who would have opened the door for you? Whom would you have seeked to talk to?"
They both knew the answer. "That is different than staying in your house."
"How so?"
The young witch stared into the fire. "At Hogwarts, I would have been out of your way."
That stung. "Do you really think I care so little?"
A humorless laugh left Hermione's mouth, but she didn't turn around. "Professor, with all due respect, I can see how uncomfortable you are, and if you hadn't been to see Molly, we wouldn't have any contact at all."
Minerva was reminded once again of Hermione's intelligence. It wouldn't be easy to convince the young woman that she was wrong. "I like to think we would have stayed in contact, and while you are right that I'm not entirely comfortable with the situation, I do care. I just think that Molly would have been the better person to give comfort, as you are well aware. Give me a little time. This came as unexpected to me as it came to you."
"It's all right, Professor. I'm not angry. This is really nice of you, but you don't have to pretend. If you really cared, you would have talked to me after the battle or at least found out if I was still alive. You didn't even know I was in Australia for months, and while I appreciate that you feel you have to help me, this is not your problem. I do thank you, though."
The stern woman felt herself tearing up and did her best to swallow the hurt the girl's words caused. It wouldn't do to cry in front of a former pupil. From Hermione's point of view, it all seemed so clear, only that her conclusions were false.
"Hermione, you have to believe me that I do care about you. Much more than I care about any other of my pupils, I have to admit. I didn't come looking for you, because I needed treatment. I spent two weeks in St. Mungo's, but I can assure you that Poppy and Kingsley informed me about everything they could." She left out that she had to be so heavily sedated to keep her in a hospital that she wasn't conscious. Never again would she set foot in a hospital. Never again. "I knew you and the boys were alive and not gravely injured. I realize now that I should have contacted you, but I was sure you were safe with the Weasleys. I thought I'd find you in the comfort of a family today, and I'm more than sorry that my assumptions turned out to be incorrect."
Carefully, she reached out to take Hermione's hand, causing the girl to look at her. "Please, Hermione. Stay."
A tear ran down the young woman's cheek as she turned the hand that covered hers to trace a faded scar of a long gone injury. "I searched the whole castle for you. Finally, I saw you with Kingsley, and you seemed all right. Before I reached you, Filius interrupted the two of you and lead you away. After that, I couldn't find you."
Minerva nodded, the memory of the moment becoming clear before her inner eyes. "I searched the castle with him for any injured people who might not have been found yet. When we came back into the hall, most people were gone. Poppy cornered me and insisted I let myself get checked in St. Mungo's."
"What did they find? " Hermione asked, hoping she didn't overstep her boundaries. "Are you better now?"
"Oh, this and that," the old woman said with a wave of her hand. "Nothing major. I am better now, only a little uncomfortable at times."
The young woman didn't believe a single word. "They kept you two weeks for minor this and that?!"
"I'm fine, Hermione. I'd be even better if you'd agree to stay here. I'm ready for breakfast, too."
The girl laughed at Minerva's dry comment and slowly nodded, not knowing if it was the right decision, but as there currently were no other options, she had to agree. "Okay, Professor. Thank you." At least she could keep an eye on the elder witch. Minor this and that…
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