A few hours into the much needed rest, Hermione was back in Malfoy Manor. It was all there: the fear, the terror, the…
Before the pain started, Hermione was suddenly awake, blinking back the terrors of the beginning nightmare. But why did it stop? What…
Minerva. She was whimpering softly, "No, no, please no." She didn't move at all, and Hermione started shivering when she realized that it must have been like that. Her mentor had been totally helpless, barely conscious, yet enough to know what was happening to her, and no pleading had helped her.
"Minerva, wake up." Hermione sat up and started shaking her shoulder. "You're having a nightmare. Come on."
There was no sign of waking, and Hermione started shaking her a little more. It was a strong potion the old woman had taken, and it wasn't easy to wake her up.
"No, no, please," Minerva murmured over and over until Hermione took her head between her hands. "Minerva," she said loudly now. "Wake up!"
Green eyes connected with brown, and the young witch sighed in relief and let go of Minerva. "You're all right," she soothed. "It was a nightmare. You're safe."
Minerva tried to get her breathing under control. It's Hermione. No one else was there. She was safe. Feeling tears gather in her eyes, she turned her head away from her guest. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Hermione shouldn't see her like this.
Hermione rubbed her tired eyes and sat with her back against the headboard. She wanted to reach out, but the stern witch beside her rolled to her side. "Don't."
Hermione didn't know what to do. Up until now, she had at least been able to comfort her mentor, but now Minerva's fever was down she didn't even allow that. She was of no use here. Tomorrow, she would leave for good.
The rest of the day and night went quickly. Hermione made sure the old woman got her treatment and Holly provided them with food. They only exchanged a few words when it was absolutely necessary.
When the morning came, Hermione went through the normal morning routine with Minerva and waited for Madam Pomfrey. Minerva's fever had disappeared with the medication, and she looked more like herself.
"Well, Minerva, the worst is over. You'll need to take the potions and cream for a few weeks, but with the fever gone, we can start working on your hip after the weekend. You were very lucky. I didn't think you'd respond to the treatment so well."
The old woman nodded. "Can I get up?"
"If you can stand the pain, yes. You need plenty of rest, though, so no useless running around the house. Your body will tell you how much you can move, but you need to listen to it."
…
"Where is Hermione?"
Holly's ears started drooping, and she suddenly looked very sad. "She's packed her bags and is just leaving. She said that you are well enough now."
The old woman's eyes went wide. "But she can't!"
"Holly tried to make her stay, but she wouldn't."
Coming out of her stupor, Minerva climbed out of the bed and instantly started swaying. After spending so much time in bed, her body couldn't cope with the sudden change. She was so dizzy the room was spinning around her, but she didn't pay attention. The pain in her hip and back was exploding, but she needed to stop Hermione from leaving. Maybe she was too late already. She stumbled from every furniture in the room she could hold on to until she more fell than walked out of the door and grabbed the handrail of the stairs. It was almost impossible to keep herself upright, but she'd made it so far. "Hermione!" she shouted. The front door was open already, but the young witch was still in sight. "Hermione!"
Shocked, Hermione turned around. What was Minerva doing there? She was supposed to be in bed. The plan was supposed to have been a secret escape now that Minerva didn't need her anymore. Merlin, she didn't look good. She was swaying dangerously, and her face was as white as a sheet. She was going to collapse.
At full speed, Hermione ran up the stairs and was just in time to grab the falling woman. "Minerva! What do you think you're doing?!" The young witch held on tightly as she slowly lead her professor back to bed. She could feel her shaking, her blood pressure playing havoc. Hermione settled Minerva against the pillows and drew the duvet over her. "What were you thinking?" Hermione scolded.
Minerva felt so drained from her little adventure she knew she would fall asleep very soon. "Needed to stop you."
Frustrated, Hermione ran her fingers through her hair. "But why?! We both know you don't want me here."
Minerva felt her concentration slip, exhaustion catching up with her. What could she say? "Please, I'm so tired. Please stay, we need to talk."
"Professor, I don't know what there is to talk about," Hermione said and sighed, resigned.
Knowing she couldn't fight sleep any longer, Minerva reached out and pulled at Hermione's arm. "Promise me you'll still be here when I wake up. We need to talk."
The young witch just looked at her.
"Promise me, Hermione. Please."
Hermione took a deep breath. It was a lost cause she was fighting. If the woman wanted to talk, they would talk. "Fine."
Relief flooded Minerva's veins. "Sit with me," she said and reached for Hermione's hand, trying to make sure the girl would keep her promise.
Hermione nodded and sank into the chair beside the bed. Minerva would have preferred the young woman resting on the bed beside her, but before she could utter a word, her eyes fell shut and she fell into a deep slumber. Hermione tried to nap as well as the lack of sleep was definitely catching up on her, but found herself unable to. Although her body was tired, her mind went round and round in circles. What did Minerva want to talk about? What was there to talk about? The elder woman didn't want her here, so she would go. Very simple. Where would she go? Not that simple, but she could always return to her parents' house as long as it hadn't been sold. And when it finally sold, she would have some money to buy a few winter clothes and maybe a small flat somewhere.
It must have been an hour and a half until Minerva stirred, finding Hermione beside her bed, staring out of the window. She looked tired. The dark circles under her eyes were shocking, and Minerva felt guilt overwhelming her. She girl must have watched over her sleep day and night despite her own condition.
"Hermione," she called softly so as not to startle the girl.
"Professor," Hermione acknowledged her.
"I think you've earned the right to call me Minerva." It wasn't as though she hadn't heard Hermione calling her that before when she had been more ill, but it didn't hurt to give her the permission.
The young woman nodded. "Can I get you anything?"
"Some water please."
Hermione got up from the chair, feeling every muscle in her body protest. Stiffly, she poured some water into a glass and handed it to her mentor, who took a few sips before handing it back. ermioHer
"Thank you."
The young woman nodded and sat back down. She waited for Minerva to say something, but the elder witch simply didn't know how to start and what to say.
"Why did you come after me? You quite obviously don't want me here so why not let me go?"
"Because I need you." The simple truth slipped out before Minerva could stop it, shocking them both.
Hermione recovered quickly. "Your fever is not clouding your mind anymore and you have Holly to fetch everything you need. You don't need me anymore. You don't want me anywhere near you and yet you call me back every time I try to leave."
Knowing Hermione was absolutely right made it even harder for Minerva to explain. "I know, Hermione. I know it doesn't make any sense and I know my behavior is disgraceful to put it nicely. I can't explain it to you at the moment. Maybe someday, but not now. You are right that I don't want you here to witness all that. I don't want anyone to see me like that, especially not a pupil who has enough to cope with as it is. I don't need anybody to see me at my weakest and lowest moments, and I try everything in my power to avoid it."
Seeing the faraway look on the old woman's face, Hermione knew what kind of memories she was recalling but remained silent. She wouldn't say what she knew, just as Elenor McGonagall had asked her to.
"But you were here. You are here. I brought you here because you need help and you ended up being the helper. That isn't right and that isn't how it was supposed to be. I am truly sorry about that. Nevertheless, you proved to be outstandingly kind, and I trusted you when I couldn't even trust myself. What you've done for me is exceptional, and I will carry that in my heart for the rest of my life."
"You've trusted me because there wasn't any other option. I was there and did what needed to be done. I don't regret it and I'm very glad I could be there for you. While your fever was so high, I tried my best to make the right decisions for you and comfort you the best I could. You did need me, yes. And I had a purpose. Now that your fever is gone, that purpose has gone, too. You refuse any form of comfort I can give, and your unwillingness to have me here radiates from you. Why am I still here?"
"Because I need you. "
Hermione put her head into her hands. She knew exactly how difficult it was for the older witch to say that. Professor McGonagall as a rule didn't need other people. She was like a rock. Some would say hard, but Hermione never saw her like that. She was solid. Constant. A foundation to build upon that no storm would damage beyond repair. And yet, she was asking a former pupil for help. 'I need you'. Hermione wondered if Minerva had ever said that to another person before.
"I am so sorry. Please stay and give me a chance to help you like you helped me. I feel very exposed and vulnerable when I'm this unwell, and truth to be told, your presence is a reassurance in a way I would have never expected. I know I am the worst patient and have hurt you needlessly countless times with my behavior. I am more sorry for that than you'll ever know, but if you can bear it, please don't go now. The thought that I fall asleep and wake up with you gone truly terrifies me at the moment."
The old witch was so brutally honest, that Hermione didn't know what to say. It was impossible for her to leave when Minerva was desperate enough to admit that she was afraid.
Still speechless, the young woman nodded and carefully reached out her hand towards Minerva, half expecting to be turned down again. It was surprising to her when warm fingers wrapped around her sun tanned skin. "I promise to not suddenly disappear. I want to stay with you. I care about you, and I know how incredibly difficult it is for you to tell me all that. I'm sorry I don't seem to handle the situation very well."
The old woman looked scandalized. "Hermione, you're handling this situation better than anybody else ever did. I wish I could make you understand how rare that is and how much I trust you. You are right that if I had a chance, I would have chosen to be alone, with no one around, but with your assumption that I trusted you simply because you were the only person here, you are sorely mistaken. You are dear to me, Hermione. The reason I didn't contact you after the battle is because I was sedated to keep me in hospital."
"But why?" Of course, Hermione knew exactly why, but it would be so much easier if the old woman told her.
Minerva held on to the smooth hand in hers tightly and closed her eyes. Slowly, she started shaking her head, 'I can't. I'm sorry, but I just can't tell you."
Hermione sighed deeply and gave Minerva's hand a little squeeze and nodded. "I appreciate how honest you were with me. I know that was very difficult, and I'm glad you actually want me to stay with you while you're unwell."
Emotionally exhausted Hermione needed a little space, and her former professor probably, too. She stood up and looked into green eyes. "I need the bathroom for a moment. I will be back. I'm not leaving, alright?"
Minerva's expression showed clearly that she was unhappy, but knowing how ridiculous she was, she tried to put on her stern professor face. "Of course, Miss Granger."
The look on the girl's face was enough to notice her slip. "Hermione, I meant Hermione. I'm sorry."
The young witch couldn't help the amused smile. It was almost endearing how Minerva slipped back into her Professor mode when she felt insecure. "I'll be quick," she promised.
