A/N: Nothing really to report today. I've been trying to write chapter 22 forever so I'm posting this instead :) Lucky you guys lol

Thanks, as always, to Lib for her cheerleading and all the rest.

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Training with Minerva McGonagall was brutal and after hours of it, Hermione couldn't even keep hold of her wand.

"Alright, alright," Minerva chuckled, as Hermione dropped her wand for the third time. "Let's take a break."

"For someone with a concussion, you're awfully energetic," Hermione huffed, dropping to the sofa with a groan.

"I have been wielding magic for a while longer than you, my dear. It is only natural that it takes time to build up your stamina."

Hermione blushed, trying not to consider the other ways stamina was useful. She managed to distract Minerva by asking her to impart as many protection spells as she could remember instead.

"After lunch," Minerva nodded. "What would you like?"

"I don't know," Hermione chuckled. "What is there?"

"Let us find out," Minerva smiled, offering her hand.

"Only after we stop and check you over and put more bruise paste on," Hermione said hopefully.

Minerva grinned and rolled her eyes as she led them to her room.

"Do your worst," Minerva ordered, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"You're terrible," Hermione laughed.

She performed the spell, taking careful note that Minerva's brain looked absolutely fine and then summoned the bruise paste. Minerva plucked it out of the air and smiled at Hermione's frown.

"Put your wand away and summon it wandlessly."

She felt her eyes light up at the prospect and did as Minerva asked, frowning when she realised she wasn't sure how. Minerva, however, smiled gently.

"Think of what you are summoning. And for now, say the spell out loud and hold out your hand. To an extent, without a wand, your hand does the directing."

It took her three tries. The first time, the tub of cream jumped off Minerva's hand and onto the bed. The second it hovered for a few seconds but refused to move. The third time, Hermione felt something shift within her and the tub came sailing towards her, landing in her hand happily.

"Well done," Minerva beamed. "Congratulations."

Hermione returned the smile, secretly she was over the moon, but she couldn't very well cheer while she had Minerva waiting to have bruise paste put on her. Instead, she leaned closer and started dabbing cream on Minerva's temple before she stopped and simply looked at the woman.

"Thank you," Heroine whispered.

"You are most welcome, my dear," Minerva smiled.

Bruise paste on, Hermione let Minerva pull her up and escort her to the kitchen. She was fairly sure that Minerva hadn't noticed, but neither of them dropped the other's hand and while Hermione was sure that it meant nothing to Minerva, she was practically floating by the time they reached the fridge.

"Chicken, cheese, bread, scones," Minerva looked pensive. "Tomatoes. What about a pizza?"

"Oh," Hermione groaned. "Yes."

Minerva chuckled and got out the flour and cleared off the bench.

"You are not making pizza by hand. Come on."

Minerva laughed and threw some flour on the work surface.

"Would you like to join me?"

"Oh," Hermione said, her eyes going wide. "No, no, no. I don't cook."

"Nonsense," Minerva scoffed. "Everybody can cook. One just requires proper training."

"No," Hermione shook her head. "You don't understand. I once made a cake for my Mum and it was only in the oven for about twenty minutes before it set on fire. Cooking and I do not get along."

Minerva laughed and shook her head.

"Alright then, seeing as you insist you cannae be trusted around this sort of thing," Minerva grinned. "Sit ye down. You can keep me entertained while I work."

Hermione did, and Minerva summoned the orange juice and a glass for each of them.

"How does that actually work without a wand? Obviously I," Hermione hesitated as she poured a glass for both of them. "I mean, how are we able to do that?"

"Your wand is not the source of your power," Minerva said, running some water into a bowl. "It is merely an extension of your internal magic. Once you realise that, you can harness a great deal of it without your wand in hand."

"So a wand is," Hermione thought about it. "Like a magical conductor then? A lightning rod?"

"Yes," Minerva smiled. "Exactly that. It directs the power where you want it to go. Spellwork is similar, you create the words that direct the magic to a particular task or action. I," she frowned. "Do not make this public, but we -" Hermione shrugged. "My colleagues and I have discovered that some of us are able to alter how wandless or silent magic works slightly."

"How?" Hermione asked, her interest piqued. "You're saying that ordinarily, it works as you taught me? You say the spell and direct your hand? I assume if you are silently casting you -" she frowned. "How does that work?"

"You say the spell in your head and direct your wand," she pulled a face. "Or your hand, or," she shrugged, giving a demonstration. "A finger."

"Minerva," Hermione groaned as she plucked the bottle from the air. Minerva smirked at her. "So wandless magic is the spell without the wand?" Minerva nodded, starting to mix the dough.

"Wandless, silent spell-casting, is traditionally a mishmash of that. However," Minerva mused. "A number of us; Albus, Filius, Severus and a few other Masters I know, can do wandless, silent magic without pointed direction."

"Whoa," Hermione said, blinking. "That's," she swallowed. "I mean, I knew you were -" she bit the rest off, fighting her blush. "You must be incredibly powerful."

"Hmm," Minerva mused, pausing what she was doing. "Couldn't take on four at once though, could I?" she mumbled.

"That was hardly a fair fight," Hermione counselled. "And perhaps the reason you are even alive is because of that power," Hermione soothed. She hated the absent look in Minerva's eyes wherever she thought of that day.

"A novel idea." Minerva shook herself and moved onto kneading the dough. "Not everyone can do it, mind. Not everyone whom I would consider powerful can do it. But enough of us can that it is becoming a trend in powerful, intelligent magic wielders."

"That's fascinating," Hermione nodded. "Is it more taxing than regular magic use?"

Minerva thought about it.

"It is about the same physically, though it does require more focus, so I suppose it is a little more taxing, if you look at it that way."

"So you just imagine something? Ask it to move? Is it like telekinesis?"

Minerva laughed.

"Not so much. It's," she looked at Hermione's glass and it lifted into the air. "For example, if you are levitating something, with the regular incantation, you feel the weight of it in your arms, somehow. This," she nodded to the glass, "you seem to feel in your brain. It's quite bizarre."

"Has anyone ever done research on it?"

"Not beyond my discussions with Albus and Filius. I only know of the other masters because of small comments in their papers that are obvious to those of us who can, but not so much to those who cannot."

"Fascinating," Hermione grinned, resting her chin on her hands. "What else?"

"You are like an information sponge," Minerva chuckled, shaking her hair back. "Oh," she frowned when it fell over her face again. "Be a dear, will you?"

Hermione stood and moved around the bench, tucking the loose strands of hair behind Minerva's ear with shaking hands.

"Thank you," Minerva winked. "Now, back to information sponges," she laughed.

Hermione needed a moment to compose herself but shook it off admirably - if she did say so herself.

"I just need to know everything!" Hermione mumbled, still blushing. "How am I supposed to know everything if I can't find everything?"

"You are funny," Minerva smiled. "What else then? You pick the topic. I shall do my best to accommodate your thirst for information."

They talked endlessly while Minerva made them pizza and by the time she pulled it from the oven, Hermione's brain was racing.

"Shall I summon some paper and a pen?" Minerva chuckled, interrupting Hermione's thoughts.

"I would use it," Hermione blushed, looking away.

"There is nothing wrong with being intelligent, Hermione, never hide that."

"It is difficult," Hermione whispered. "Sometimes."

"I know," Minerva soothed. "But don't you hide it. If someone cannot cope with your brilliance, Hermione, then they don't deserve you."

"Honestly the only people that seem to be able to is Harry, Ginny and," she swallowed suddenly when she realised the other person she was going to say. "Um, you -" Hermione said, unable to stop mid-sentence.

"Then I am in good company," Minerva smiled, cutting the pizza and plating up. "Shall we?"

"Shall we, where?" Hermione blinked, looking around.

"I thought we would eat on the roof."

"You -" Hermione glanced at the ceiling. "Yes please!"

They made their way up onto the roof and Hermione sighed, looking around as Minerva constructed a dome to protect them from the weather and set the table.

"There we are."

"Perfect," Hermione breathed. "Thank you."

"Thank you," Minerva sat. "Dig in."

Hermione took a bite and moaned salaciously at the flavour.

"You are," Hermione shook her head. "Amazing."

Minerva grinned and sat back with a sigh.

"I must say," Minerva chewed thoughtfully. "It is rather good."

They sat in comfortable silence, eating thankfully while they watched the clouds gathering over the mountains.

"Have you any interest in the stars?" Minerva asked.

Hermione's answer sparked a discussion on Centaurs, which sparked a discussion on magical mysteries and by the time Minerva seemed to realise the time, they'd talked for hours and hours and hours.

"Gracious," Minerva said, looking at her watch. "It's late. We should get to bed if we want to surprise your family tomorrow?"

"I have no presents," Hermione muttered, following Minerva out of her seat and stacking the plates. "For you or for them."

"I need nothing," Minerva waved her off. "Save your company perhaps until the 29th?"

"What happens on the 29th?"

"That is the date I must return to Order business."

"No," Hermione protested. "Minerva -"

"I must," Minerva said quietly. "I must."

Hermione threw caution to the wind and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Minerva's neck. Minerva's arms wrapped around her waist and they held each other for a moment before Hermione stepped back, pulling on the sleeves of her shirt.

"I do recall promising you that I would be careful," Minerva whispered. "If that helps?"

"I think," Hermione swallowed. "That I could cope with anybody else laying their life down. Eventually, I mean." She looked up into Minerva's eyes and found them so very green in the half-light from the lanterns that had lit themselves as the sun went down. "But not you. I don't think I would ever recover from that."

"You will not have to," Minerva smiled grimly. "Though we all must play our part? How should I feel when you are plotting and scheming with Mr Potter? You have ended up battling some of the worst sorts, Hermione."

"But I needed to -" She realised what Minerva was doing and sighed, stepping out of Minerva's reach. "I understand."

"Do you?" Minerva asked gently, matching the movement and stepping back into Hermione's space. "Can you?"

"War is sacrifice," Hermione said sadly.

"Not if we can help it," Minerva soothed, her hand soft against Hermione's cheek.

Nodding in agreement, Hermione wrapped her arms around Minerva once more, sighing into her shoulder as she was held right back.

"We need some sleep. Tomorrow will be a day when I must perform some magic and I will need your help to do so."

"Me?"

"Yes," Minerva chuckled. "So sleep. We will leave fairly early, so you can enjoy the day."

"What will we do if they refuse?" Hermione whispered. "If they try to keep me from -" she couldn't finish the sentence, but Minerva bent a little to look into her eyes.

"At the very worst, you are now of age. And that means you are a free agent within the Wizarding World. I do not wish it to come to that, but if it does, do not despair that you will be alone."

Hermione nodded, trying not to let the tears in her eyes escape.

"G'night, Min," Hermione whispered, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to Minerva's cheek. "Thank you."

"Oh, Hermione," Minerva muttered as she left. "Thank you."