Author's Note: I got two reviews, thank you so very much!! I probably got WAY too excited to get reviews, but it was quite fun :))) I will absolutely be joining that Facebook group!
So, here's a new chapter. It's Hermione's seventh year... so we're just going to do some pretending. You can pretend that she came back to Hogwarts after the war, you can pretend there was no war, there were no horcruxes in the first place, whatever floats your boat! I suppose Dumbledore never died... We will pretend whatever we please until I decide. It's not crucial to the story. Not yet at least. If it becomes crucial, I will certainly make a definitive statement. What's fanfiction but a place to have fun and let your imagination go where it wants to? I say fill in any of my gray areas as you like :) Please let me know if this chapter is not to your liking, if you find it boring, or if it comes off as very out of character, and I will try to fix it up! Enjoy the update :)
Hermione sat on the edge of her seat, dreading the coming minutes. The bell would ring in thirty seconds and send her to her gloomy fate- talking to the most powerful witch of the age about what had distracted her, what had stolen her attention from that witch, aka her professor. The answer being her professor. Ironic. Hermione tapped her feet on the floor in a steady beat and recited her favorite books as a child, the authors of those books, and the year they were published. It was a handy little mechanism she had developed to cope with immediate stress. Just as she reached The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the bell rang.
All the students around her clambered out of their seats and began to talk and laugh as they left the classroom, done for the day. Hermione was left sitting in her seat, waiting for the silent and foreboding woman sitting at her desk in the front of the classroom to say something.
Professor McGonagall made one last note on the paper that held her attention, and then looked up at Hermione.
"Miss Granger, may I inquire as to why you seemed to be far away during my class? Why you weren't paying it any attention? And exactly what did you feel was more deserving of your attention at that time?" McGonagall looked disapproving and Hermione swallowed hard at her words. Never had she been accused of so much as sloppy handwriting. Now here she was, and her favorite professor had just accused her of not caring enough to pay any attention to her class. Hermione blushed deeply as she considered what she could possibly give as an answer to the woman's question. She was simply far too busy admiring her professor to listen to what she had to say? Yeah right. Her search for the right answer was made further difficult by the eye-catching witch slowly standing from her desk and walking closer to Hermione.
Minerva was unsure what route to take. She was concerned for her student, a student for whom she had never had so much as a complaint of sloppy handwriting. Normally, had a student zoned out during her class and not noticed her asking them a direct question, she would have been irked and demanded their attention at most. But not her star pupil. Not Hermione Granger. Something must be going on. She had known something was off as soon as she'd asked a question and Hermione's hand had not shot up as it usually did, somewhat aggressively, unknowingly endangering the students beside her in her enthusiasm to participate. Although Hermione had grown from an excited first-year to the inquisitive young woman in her seventh year that was now before Minerva, this habit of hers had not changed in the least. Minerva couldn't help but feel a bit defensive as Hermione was still eager to learn practically everything anyone might offer to her. She couldn't help but wonder why Hermione might not be eager to take in what she had to say. Her reaction was a mix of taken aback and worried.
As she looked at the girl in front of her blushing and subtly tapping her foot, Minerva suddenly worried her tone had been too harsh. She didn't want to scare or guilt the girl, she merely wanted to find out what had caused her out of character behavior earlier.
"Miss Granger?" She said uncertainly for what felt like the tenth time that day. There was a slight pause as Hermione acted quite similarly to how she had in class. She looked up as though she suddenly realized she was still in the classroom and her professor had asked her something that she was unsure how to answer.
"I'm sorry professor, I... I, well," she continued hesitantly as though she was fighting with herself on how to finish the sentence.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Minerva encouraged, further perplexed by her pupil's behavior.
"I suppose I'm just feeling a bit off today. I sincerely apologize for my behavior earlier. I hope you understand that my lapse does not reflect how I feel towards your class, nor my level of interest in the subject and how you teach it. It was unprofessional and I should do better. I won't let it happen again," Hermione finally finished in a regretful tone. She looked like she felt absolutely horrible.
Minerva was suddenly washed over with a feeling of guilt for making her student feel so badly. She had not meant to. This guilt was almost enough to over-power her feeling that Hermione was not telling her something. Almost enough, but not quite.
"Miss Granger, are you sure you have nothing else to tell me?" She pried.
Hermione blushed yet again, lifting her eyes to her professor for the smallest fraction a second before looking back down at her desk and shaking her head. This did not sit well with Minerva. Not at all. Something was going on, it must be. But she decided to not pry any further at the moment, not while her student looked so pitifully regretful.
She walked toward Hermione's desk and the young woman looked up at her with questioning eyes. She placed her hand on top of Hermione's which was laid across the desk.
"If you are sure, my dear. It worries me that you are not looking into my eyes and it worries me that you cannot elaborate any further. If you later find you have forgotten to tell me something you wish to, I am here." She looked at the girl once more, dark emerald eyes seeking for something, anything that might explain this strange behavior. She did not find it.
"I am not angry with you, Miss Granger." She said, honestly and gently. Hermione looked up at her, already looking more at ease. Less tense, less regretful, and less anxious.
"Thank you, professor," she nodded, feeling much more relaxed.
"Do you remember coming to my office for tea those few times in years past? We would work on spells together?" Minerva said, quietly remembering the hours that swept easily by as the she tutored the young woman and they partook in lively discussions, sharing in each other's great passion for all things magical.
"Of course, professor!" The young woman exclaimed, recalling the enjoyable times she had spent with the elder witch.
"If it would be to your liking, you could come by tomorrow after your classes and join me for tea..." Minerva suggested in what she hoped was a casual tone, taking the chance despite her uncertainty of whether or not Hermione would be interested in having tea with her again. She wanted to be certain Hermione was alright, she wanted to see if Hermione would share that something she seemed to be holding back today. Not only that, but she missed spending time with the young witch. She had found throughout their years together that she quite enjoyed the girl's company. The woman's company. Young Hermione was no longer a girl, she was a woman, Minerva reminded herself.
"Oh, I..." Hermione looked as though she might be trying to think of reasons why she could not. There was moment of silence as the young witch contemplated. "I would very much like that," she finished sincerely, followed by what appeared to Minerva to be a genuine smile. Hermione met her eyes, once more looking like the determined and confident woman she really was. This reassured Minerva greatly, and she felt relief sweep over her.
"Perhaps I could even go through a few spells with you... Epoximise may have been a simple answer, but it is not the most simple of spells... Even for the unstoppable Hermione Granger," Minerva added with a teasing and challenging smirk.
Hermione blushed a light pink and smiled up at Minerva. "I'm sorry, professor, did you say something?" She teased back, a waggish and mischievous smile playing on her lips.
"Oh, Miss Granger, you never cease to amuse me," Minerva said, merriment evident in her eyes and small smile, as she lifted her hand from the young woman's, suddenly realizing how long she had left it there and blushing slightly. She gave Hermione a nod that silently said see you tomorrow and walked back into her office.
Hermione walked down the hall minutes later, her cheeks still heated, her hand still on fire from where her professor had touched her. She though of the way her heart had fluttered when her professor called her "my dear." Her mouth was having trouble not turning up at the corners. Her heart was pounding slightly more rapidly than usual, thinking back to her McGonagall's teasing smile, something very rare, but surprisingly becoming on the professor's usually stoic face...
She wondered what had previously worried her so. After all the years she'd known her professor, she should not have forgotten the woman's strong trait of forgiveness and understanding. It was a bit of a harder thing to see in her, as she presented as a tough, no-nonsense teacher. However, she really possessed all these traits at once, which increased Hermione's respect for her even further, something Hermione didn't know was possible.
Hermione didn't quite understand why the time she had just spent staying after class to make up for not paying attention had brought her such a rush, such a feeling of excitement and gaiety, but she didn't want to consider why exactly. Not right now. Now she simply wanted to think about the coming day and tea time. Sure, she might have to come up with a more solid excuse as to why she had trouble concentrating in the previous class, but it would be worth it. It had been some time since she'd joined her favorite professor for tea. Now she would again, all thanks to not having answered a simple question quickly enough. Oh, lovely epoximise.