A/N: I know some of you may not have read my non-HGMM work but you really ought to be warned... When you feel like they're getting all soft and comfortable and it's lovely. Don't get comfortable lol This is 27 chapters long ;) There's a ways to go yet, dear ones.
Thanks, as ever, to the wonderful Lib McGranger.
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"Oi!"
Hermione huffed as her quill slid across her parchment without her control. She glared a little at Ginny but couldn't hold it for too long; she really had been a great friend since New Year's Eve.
"Sorry," Ginny said easily. "Are you coming to Hogsmede?"
"Probably not," she shrugged. "I have things to do."
"Mhmm," Ginny grinned. Hermione squinted at her smile and put down her quill.
"What?"
"Oh nothing," Ginny smirked. "Only that I happen to know that there's been additional personnel added to the chaperone list."
"What?" Hermione frowned, turning to face her properly. "What do you mean?"
"She's back."
Hermione gaped. Minerva had disappeared, from class, days ago on what Hermione assumed was Order business.
Despite their growing closeness, she hadn't seen Minerva to talk to since they had said goodbye to each other at Minerva's house on the 29th. Though she held it together at the time, as soon as she'd arrived at The Burrow and nodded quiet hellos to the Weasleys, she'd run upstairs and fallen onto her bed sobbing. Ginny had followed and sat with her while she cried. Eventually, she managed to coax Hermione out of her sadness and they'd talked about everything that had happened while she'd been away. At the end of it, Ginny had smiled and pronounced them practically married. Hermione had screamed with laughter and then burst back into tears.
The levity had helped, though. Hermione had eventually fallen asleep, clutching her pillow and awoke refreshed and resolute about it all. After a shower and a long, silent, conversation in the mirror she pulled herself together and had truly enjoyed the rest of their holidays. They'd played and laughed and if anything, her love for Harry, Ginny, Fred and George had deepened. She wasn't sure Fred and George knew of her feelings for Minerva exactly, but they had all done their best to take her mind off being sad.
Ron, on the other hand, was not talking to any of them. After his outburst at the game, Fred and George had taken to 'accidentally' tripping him down the stairs whenever possible. According to the tale weaved by Ginny and Harry, Molly had been inconsolable after the first few incidents, but apparently, in the time since Hermione had been away, it had happened so often that Molly no longer even looked up when he cried out. What made Hermione smirk just a little more, was the odd bludger that just happened to appear in his room whenever he was alone. The morning after she got back, one had appeared and had apparently tried to kill him. In an effort to defend himself he'd set his Chudley Cannons poster on fire and while she didn't laugh, she did bite back a smile when Fred winked at her.
New Year's Eve had, despite her melancholy, been lovely. The whole Weasley family, minus Percy of course, had spent the night watching Fred and George's fireworks. Their shop had been trading for barely six months and they were already doing so well. It had made her happy to know that there were others doing good in the world, even if she sometimes didn't understand it. Through it all though, she had looked forward to seeing Minerva again, once they returned to school. Reality had turned out quite differently. While she had seen Minerva in class, they had not found the time to have tea and chat. In fact, Hermione sometimes felt like the whole thing had been a dream.
Then, three days ago, a bowl of baked beans had arrived at breakfast, right in front of her. She had frowned at it for a long time. The Elves weren't prone to making food like that, especially at breakfast, and it took her much longer than it should have to realise that someone had ordered them just for her. Finally understanding what it might mean, she had looked up at the Staff Table, only to find Minerva's seat mysteriously empty.
It had remained empty at lunch and it wasn't until the last lesson of the day that they found out why. In Minerva's place, at the front of the class, was a man they'd never seen before. He had introduced himself as Professor Jones; Professor McGonagall's temporary replacement while she was indisposed. Harry had looked at her puzzled, but she'd shrugged. It had left a bad taste in her mouth ever since.
"Hello?"
She blinked, looked up at Ginny.
"Sorry," she shook her head. "What?"
"So?" Ginny grinned. "Are you coming to Hogsmede?"
"Of course I am," Hermione grinned. "Why wouldn't I?"
Ginny laughed and drew Hermione's cloak, scarf and hat from over the back of the sofa where she'd left them and offered it up to her.
"Well then, let's go!"
They ran out of the Common Room while Hermione struggled with her cloak and just made it outside in time for the headcount before they were allowed to leave. As they stepped forward, she saw Minerva for the first time in what felt like forever and stopped dead in her tracks.
To put it plainly, she looked awful. She was clearly exhausted, she had a pallor that was terrifyingly pale and there was a darkness in her eyes that Hermione didn't like at all. But, more importantly, Minerva seemed to have adopted a rather bizarre stance as she stood next to Professor Flitwick, who called out names while she marked the Parchment of Attendance. As most of the group started off down the path, she watched carefully from the back as Minerva took a step forward and winced, her hand going to Professor Flitwick's shoulder suddenly. She continued to watch as the two Professors had a heated, whispered conversation.
"She looks terrible."
"Do you mind if I don't come? There's something definitely not right."
"Nah," Ginny muttered. "I'll tell Flitwick."
She squeezed Ginny's hand and let her go first, stepping through the crowd as though it wasn't there. Her sole focus was Minerva and the white-knuckle grip she had on Professor Flitwick's shoulder. He was small, but he seemed much stronger than she would have imagined. As Ginny popped up in front of them, Minerva had been forced to let go as he stepped back to avoid bumping into her. Hermione pounced, her arm going through Minerva's and her body at a slight angle to accommodate the weight she knew she'd feel once Minerva realised she was safe.
"I -" she sighed as she saw Hermione. "Hello."
"Hi," Hermione whispered evenly. "What are you doing?"
"My duty."
"Hmm," Hermione nodded. "So you neglected to tell anyone just how hurt you are and nobody has bothered to tell you to rest?"
Minerva's cheeks went pink as they watched Professor Flitwick and Ginny leave them, along with the stragglers from the back of the group, leaving them in front of the castle, quite alone.
"In the hour or so since I've been back, the ones I have spoken to have had plenty to say, actually," Minerva huffed.
Hermione chuckled even as Minerva glared at her.
"Ginny said she'd tell Professor Flitwick, do you need to tell anyone else you're not going?"
"No," she conceded eventually. "I was an extra pair of eyes."
"Martyr." Hermione rolled her eyes. "You need rest and care. And somewhere to sit.
"I might," she acknowledged. "Poppy is otherwise engaged today. Would," she hesitated. "Would you do it?"
"I will certainly try," Hermione smiled, her thumb rubbing Minerva's arm a little. "Do you have first-aid things in your room?"
"I am, unfortunately, out of my supplies. With all that happened, I did not think to restock before I left."
"You should have said, I have some spares you could have taken," Hermione muttered, her brain already three steps forward. "No matter. I know where to go."
"Oh," Minerva winced as she stepped forward.
"What is it?" Hermione asked as she moved back to Minerva's side.
"An ill-dodged Diffindo."
"Minerva!"
"I know," she groaned. "It could not be helped. I only got back this morning."
"Bloody hell. Alright, come on."
She wrapped her arm around Minerva's waist, readjusting to avoid the wince she made when she took more of her weight. Minerva groaned and leant more of her weight against Hermione. She wrapped an arm around her and held on tightly as they set off. It was a long way, but Hermione walked Minerva carefully to the Room of Requirement and asked it for somewhere to rest and heal. She opened the door to something out of a dream. Soft, inviting sofas with a full medical bay at the back of the room.
"Perfect," Hermione nodded, leading Minerva in.
"I have heard of this place," Minerva muttered, looking around in wonder. "But I have never been inside. How did you find it?"
"Um," Hermione considered it. "I think Harry found it first. This is where we trained for Dumbledore's Army though," she chuckled, meeting Minerva's surprised eyes. "It will turn into anything you need if you ask at the door. I'd like to spend ten years researching it."
Minerva perched on the sofa with a groan.
"I am sure you would."
Once she was settled, Hermione stepped back and looked at her.
"Don't fret," Minerva muttered, refusing to meet her eye. "I'm fine."
"You promised."
"And I am here," she said testily.
"I assumed, Minerva, that your promise would include general ill-health and injury!"
The tension that had been creeping between them broke and Minerva scoffed.
"I know," she sighed. "I am getting old."
"No you're not," Hermione rolled her eyes. "What is more likely is that you should have told Professor Dumbledore that you needed more time." Minerva's lips twitched but she didn't reply. Hermione remembered that the woman was in some pain. "Alright. Give me the list."
"I -" she huffed and tried to stand.
"What are you doing?"
"This is ridiculous."
"No it's not," Hermione said, kneeling on the floor beside the sofa. Minerva stopped struggling and with some help, lay back with a groan.
"You should not have to spend your life looking after me."
"I assumed that was what," she swallowed. "Friends did for one another, no?" she waited for Minerva to finally glance her way. "It's what I've been doing for Harry these last six years, at any rate." Minerva did laugh at that and groaned, clutching her middle. "Broken ribs?" Hermione asked lightly, giving her an amused look.
"Aye," Minerva winced. "Wicked bruising. A stone wall fell atop me."
"Hopeless," Hermione muttered. "Diffindo to the leg. What else?"
"They are the two primary issues."
"And that," she said, pushing Minerva's hair off her damp forehead. "Was not what I asked."
She knew she was pushing her luck, but if she wanted to help, she would need to know exactly what was ailing her.
"You realise that you sound exactly like Poppy, don't you?"
"I am doing well, then," Hermione smiled, sighing as she leant closer. In a moment of bravery, she cupped Minerva's cheek and turned her face towards her own. "Min? Please?"
She pulled a face and smiled.
"You are far too good for this world, Hermione Granger," Minerva said quietly.
"I just care about you," she said without thinking. Realising what she'd said, she clamped her mouth closed and pulled away. "Right," she said, trying to stop her hands from shaking. "First things first, I suppose. Let me look at your leg?"
"I," Minerva's face turned a deep red and Hermione suddenly realised the position she was in.
"Um," she said carefully. "Where -"
"Top of my thigh," Minerva winced. "Just here."
She motioned vaguely to just under her right hip and buttock and Hermione let out a breath. For one gloriously terrifying moment, she had tried her hardest not to imagine Minerva's inner thighs. But now, she was trying not to imagine her arse as well.
"Well. Right. Let's -" she looked around, spying some things she would need in the medical section. The Room of Requirement also helped, providing a throw on the back of the sofa for their use. "Oh," she chuckled, picking it up. "It's so soft. Thank you," she called. Minerva smiled, despite the situation and Hermione lay the blanket over her. "I know it's uncomfortable for you, but it might be worth undressing. Two birds with one stone or whatever," she winced and shook her head. "However you want to do it. I'll be over there and we can work out how this will work when I get back, okay?"
"Fine," Minerva nodded.
Hermione nodded again and turned, stopping as a strong hand gripped hers, the thumb twitched against the inside of her wrist.
"Thank you," Minerva husked. "I know I am being difficult, but I -"
"You are not being difficult," Hermione muttered. She turned her hand over and took Minerva's. "You're uncomfortable, in pain," she shrugged. "But it will be okay. I'll do what I can and when Madam Pomfrey gets back, you must make sure you go and see her?"
"I promise," Minerva smiled.
"Alright," Hermione nodded. "I'll be right back. Get comfortable."