*Trigger Warning*: Small discussion of/allusion to... possible domestic violence and/or corporal punishment or even physical abuse. Again in italics if you want to skip past.

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A/N: I feel like I need to swing back to this whole...zombie apocalypse thing. Please take it seriously. Please remain indoors where possible. Please don't take unnecessary risks. Please tell your people you love them every single day. I feel like the longer it goes on, the more blase we are getting but it's not going to go away overnight. It's going to be a minute so settle in.

And to everyone who is telling me that they spend their evenings waiting for this, I adore you. And everyone didn't tell me that, but who still sits and waits, I adore you. Thank you to everyone who's following for the love and kindness you've shown me while we take this long and winding journey ;)

For disclaimer, please see Ch2.

I'm an awful human being. I forgot to thank my wonderful, darling Spin...whom I can barely get through one day without. I love you and I'm sorry :(

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Returning to her rooms, Minerva decided that a chat with Hermione was in order. She took off her outer robes and let down her hair. For some reason, at this moment, she was not interested in appearing as Professor McGonagall but rather, as Minerva.

She knocked lightly on the door, peering her head around it to find Hermione face down on the bed, sleeping. She smiled as she watched the girl's chest rising and falling, but was disturbed by Hermione's sudden movement.

"No!" she muttered, now flailing from side to side, her face a picture of agony. "NO! Get your hands off her!"

"Hermione," Minerva said, moving to the bedside and taking Hermione's hand. "Hermione!"

"NO!"

She sat up, shaking uncontrollably and Minerva didn't think. She didn't want to see that look on Hermione's face anymore, so she pulled her into her arms and held her, rocking them gently.

"It's alright, it's just a dream," Minerva whispered, her head resting on Hermione's. "Just a dream."

"I," she cleared her throat and pulled away. "I apologise, Professor."

"Stop," Minerva said, peering at her. "Let's stop this, okay?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

"Yes, you do," Minerva said gently. "You have managed to call me Minerva in private for months. I'm sure you can find enough bravery in that big heart of yours to continue to do so."

Hermione looked up at her, confused. Minerva took pity on her and reached over to take her hand.

"I had a very interesting discussion with Miss Weasley."

"What?" Hermione said, trying to pull away. Minerva didn't let her and she settled back down again when she realised she had no choice. "That was none of her business, whatever she told you. She didn't -"

"Hush," Minerva said, kissing Hermione's temple. "I asked, and she is worried about you." She reached over and took Hermione's other hand. "I had no idea about your parents, nor that you were doing all that," she paused, finding Hermione's eyes fixed on her face. "For me."

"Well, I wasn't doing it for me," Hermione grumbled, but Minerva could see she was pleased. "I didn't mean for it to get so big," Hermione admitted. "I, well, it started off that I just wanted to help the youngsters. So I started checking the Second Year's homework. They came and asked me, us I mean. They couldn't get the movement right and you couldn't show them, so we," she sighed. "Ginny helped. So did Harry, it wasn't just me. We set up Transfiguration lessons. I went through what you'd done that week and helped them understand. I knew doing magic was hurting you, so I figured I'd give them the demonstrations where possible, to save you having to go over it too many times."

"Hermione -" Minerva began, but she didn't seem to be listening. She bit her lip and let the young woman talk. She knew how Hermione's brain worked and sometimes it was just better to wait and circle back.

"It grew to the First and Third Years after I noticed a few of them hanging about when we were doing the Seconds. Then, well, I bumped into Professor Flitwick and he knew what I was doing. Some of his Ravenclaws were sneaking in and listening to us. He agreed to take the Slytherins and Ravenclaws if I would do the Hufflepuffs. We worked out a schedule and it was working fine until the rest got involved. So Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra gave up their classrooms so we could take a proper class every night - you dont ever patrol that area. But I was still checking everyone's homework and suggested to Snape," Minerva cleared her throat, "Professor Snape that they should either nominate someone to do the same or allow me to do it." She chuckled grimly. "He dropped a hundred and eleven essays on my desk during Defence class and told me that he expected them back the next day."

"He -"

"It's alright," Hermione said quickly, squeezing Minerva's hands. "They're pretty smart, most of them. I did what I could and dropped them back on his desk the next day, just like he had. He didn't do it again. I think he's been checking them himself, to be honest."

"Everyone -"

"- Loves you, in their own way."

"None like you though," Minerva mused, watching as a bevy of emotions crossed Hermione's face.

"No," she whispered, dropping her head. "Not like me."

"And the detentions?"

"Oh," Hermione blushed. "Yeah, that was maybe overstepping the mark. I asked Professor Flitwick if there was any chance he could pass the notices to me, rather than you. That was when you really weren't well. Before Christmas," she shrugged. "Then it just carried on. It seemed to work and you were getting better."

"Hermione, Ginny suggested that Miss Brown said some terrible things," Hermione's eyes widened. "About me."

"They were," Hermione paled and Minerva pulled her into her arms. She couldn't remember ever doing so in quite the same cavalier way, but it felt right in the moment.

"Can you tell me?"

"I don't want to. I don't ever want to hear those words uttered again."

"I am a big girl, Hermione," Minerva whispered, dropping a kiss to her hair without thinking. "I will survive it. I've probably heard it all before."

"She said you were a has-been. Someone who -" she shook her head. "I can't, I'll spare you the details. It was nasty. And wrong. You're not alone, you'll never be alone and you're not anything like she suggested," Minerva nodded, continuing to watch Hermione avoid her gaze.

"And what did she suggest, hmm? What was the worst part?" Minerva said, seeing through Hermione's poker face. Hermione shook her head, but Minerva reached over and took her hand. "Tell me?"

"She suggested you preyed on students," Hermione whispered. "Children. Girls."

Minerva went very still. The horror she felt equalled the look on Albus' face when he had come out of Hermione's mind.

"Hermione, listen to me," she said, sitting the girl up and cupping her face. "You know that is not what I am doing? You -"

"Don't insult me!" Hermione said, standing up quickly. "How dare you imagine that I, for one second, would think that about you!"

"No," Minerva said, realising her mistake. "No, Hermione, I apologise. I," she took a deep breath. "This," she searched Hermione's face for a moment. "This relationship we have, I do not want you thinking that -"

"Do you seriously think that I think you have taken some sort of perverted liking towards me?" Hermione spat. "Of course I don't. You're married to Professor Dumbledore. You said earlier, 'as if I grew under your heart'. That isn't erotic love Minerva, that's platonic."

"No," Minerva said, getting up and crossing the room to where Hermione was fuming in the corner. "Not platonic, sweetheart," she brushed back Hermione's hair and made peace with it before she said it. "Familial."

She saw it coming, a long time before Hermione probably even realised. The first tear. Minerva wondered, as she pulled Hermione to her chest, how long it had been since the poor girl had really cried. It was clear it had been a long time. The heart-wrenching sobs coming from Hermione's small body were making her own eyes water and she navigated them back to the bed, summoning the pillows from where they looked to have been thrown, pulling Hermione closer.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, in between hiccups. "I'm sorry for everything."

"Shh," Minerva whispered, her fingers scratching Hermione's scalp. She vaguely remembered her grandmother doing it for her when she was younger. "Hush, child. Nothing is so broken that it cannot be fixed."

"But Professor Dumbledore, and now me and -"

"What is between Albus and I shall remain there, little one," Minerva muttered.

"But you said -"

"I was angry and upset," Minerva sighed, shifting slightly to ease her ribs. "And frankly terrified out of my mind that I was going to lose you as well."

They lapsed into silence as Hermione calmed down.

"He's dying."

"Hermione -"

"No, but," she sighed this time, leaving a warm spot on Minerva's neck. She let go just a little as Hermione turned around and pulled Minerva's arm around her. Minerva smiled into her hair. "He," she looked over her shoulder. "Do you know? Do you know what he and Harry are doing, I mean?"

"Hermione, I have long since come to terms with the notion that anything I ask Albus will go unanswered."

"But I do," Hermione whispered. "Harry knows, and he told me."

"Brilliant," Minerva muttered, having no more strength to hold her head up. Hermione's hair smelled of apples and parchment. "Bloody brilliant."

"Do you want to know?"

"Hermione -"

"I don't want to tell you if you don't want to know. It's a lot to comprehend but Harry and I can handle it, I just wanted to make sure you understood."

They lay in silence for a while longer, until Minerva let her head rest against Hermione's.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"No," Hermione whispered.

"Tell me?"

"Voldemort made Horcruxes."

"He made," Minerva frowned. "I've heard that word before, but I cannot recall -"

"Soul-stops. Caches of himself. He put a piece of himself into something, some things we - Harry and I - think that are significant to him, Professor Dumbledore too, I suppose but in the wrong way. He, Voldemort, made multiple ones to ensure he never dies. Professor Dumbledore thinks that it must have been at least three, maybe as many as six."

"Hermione, that is -"

"I know," she whispered."I think Professor Dumbledore's going about it all wrong though. I think," she sighed. "He thinks there are endless traps and insane challenges and brilliantly amazing artefacts but," she frowned. "I just don't think Voldemort is as complicated as he thinks. Why is the Headmaster so single-minded? He won't even listen to Harry when he tries to tell him!"

Minerva chuckled, pulling Hermione closer.

"Oh, child it is an argument that I have had with him for most of our lives."

"I know," she admitted. "I heard you."

"Hmm," Minerva mused. "I had forgotten you were here, I'm sor-"

"Don't," Hermione interrupted. "It was," she waited a bit and Minerva felt her shudder. "It was familiar. Mum and Dad, they," her voice broke. "They argued, I think, but only so they could make up afterwards. Which was horrifying to realise as a teenager."

"You're still a teenager, little one," Minerva chuckled. "But I understand," Minerva coloured as she realised what she'd said. "I mean," she let Hermione laugh at her expense. "You will too one day, I shouldn't wonder."

"I'm trying to ignore the thought of you and Professor Dumbledore doing that too," Hermione mused, making Minerva chuckle morosely. There was not a whole lot of that going on lately. Hermione sighed, drawing Minerva back to the present. "I miss them."

"Oh darling, I know," Minerva muttered. "What you did was so, so brave. You sacrificed your heart for their lives. That is beyond -"

"I tried to tell them to go. I tried," her voice wobbled again. "I gave them the choice but, they didn't," she hiccupped. "They wouldn't go. But I knew if they stayed, they would -" Minerva felt Hermione's whole body tense as she swallowed thickly. "I didn't want to be responsible for their deaths."

"Hermione," Minerva said, going still. She suddenly understood so much more about her young charge. "Look at me?"

Hermione huffed and rolled over, letting Minerva stroke her cheek and angle her face up to hers.

"You would never be responsible for their deaths."

"How can you say that! Of course I would," she insisted. "Because they're part of this world with none of the knowledge. They were completely unprotected. And now they're safe," she looked away. "Even if I'm alone."

"Not alone," Minerva whispered gently "I would be honoured to take on your guardianship while you are here, and beyond too, if you would like."

"I would like that," Hermione muttered, pressing her face back into Minerva's neck. "But it would still be my fault if they died."

"Do not take on the sins of those who sin."

"Did your dad tell you that?"

Minerva stopped, her eyes narrowing as she realised what she had said.

"Sorry," Hermione said, clearly reading the discomfort in her face. "You don't have to answer that. It's none of my -"

"My," she faltered. "Father was not a kind man," Minerva revealed, figuring that if they were bearing scars, she might as well join in. "He was a man of the Church, as you found out -" She frowned, glancing down at her young charge. "How did you find that out?"

"It was in your 'Hogwarts: A History' biography."

"Ah," Minerva chuckled. "I had forgotten about that."

"He was anti-magic?"

"He," Minerva mused, twirling a curl of Hermione's hair in her fingers. "He was afraid, above all. I think. A lifetime of God and the Devil and sins and sinners. And my mother," Minerva shrugged, tugging gently on the ringlet. "My mother, in an effort to placate him, gave up her wand. Before I was born." She thought about what she was going to say. "She pretended to be non-magical and once I was born, well, apparently I started exhibiting little incidents of magic quite soon after birth."

"She gave up her magic for him?"

"Yes," Minerva mused. "For love, as she did love him, I believe. Ironically, their relationship never recovered."

"What do you mean?

"Oh, he was," she whispered now. "He was not a kind man and was often violent. It didn't make sense to me even as a child, but he often punished us harshly for speaking out of turn or speaking out against the Church or," she shivered. "Using our magic at home." She sighed. "Well," she leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to Hermione's forehead. She realised absently that it almost felt normal to do so. Hermione just smiled sadly and snuggled closer. The distance in her eyes disappearing for a moment. "We were not happy children, my two brothers and I. My mother never lifted a finger in defence of us and I viewed her as quite a weak woman. From the age I could think for myself, I wanted to punish him for the things he did."

"The spell," Hermione whispered.

"Yes," Minerva groaned.

"Did you -"

"I didn't use it on him," Minerva said quietly. "Rather, on someone inconsequential, in not a dissimilar situation you found yourself in."

It was all that needed to be said for the moment and so Minerva let it rest, getting lost in her memories while Hermione lay in silence.

"I don't want him to die." Hermione's comment hung in the air while Minerva shuddered. "I'm sorry," Hermione muttered. "I don't know why I said that."

"It's okay," Minerva smiled sadly. "Me neither."

"Can you, we, not," she shrugged, playing with Minerva's watch. Minerva let her. "Stop it?"

"If Albus cannot, then no, darling, I doubt I could."

"What about us, together? Surely we -"

"You have your studies to think about," Minerva warned. "And I want you to do some research about that spell and come up with a decent counter curse. Consider it a punishment."

"But -"

"Hermione, I would ask you to leave it alone," she sounded tired, even to her own ears.

"Okay," Hermione whispered.

Minerva could feel her eyes getting heavy and she wondered how long it had been since she'd slept well.

"How will I research a counter-curse if I can't go to the library?"

"I have a library," Minerva said around a smile as she felt Hermione's excitement. "Will you close your eyes for me, darling? Your brain is tiring me out."

"You're being silly," Hermione muttered, pressing as close as she could get. Minerva tightened her arms around her, kissing her hair again.

"I am, but I'm an old woman. I'm allowed to be eccentric."

"You're not old! You're so full of -"

"Hermione," Minerva muttered. "Go to sleep!"

"Oh," Hermione breathed. "Alright."

"Just for a while," Minerva whispered, nuzzling Hermione's ear. "I confess I haven't ever felt like this."

"I have," Hermione said and Minerva could hear her smile. "But I'm really happy to be here with you."

"Thank you, my darling. As am I."

"Maybe suspension is going to be okay."

"Hermione," Minerva muttered as a reprimand, but she was unable to resist the call any longer. She let her eyes close and finally fell asleep.