A longing invoked singularly by the owner of those emerald eyes, the most venerated witch without a doubt— a witch named Minerva McGonagall.
Year 1998
Chapter 3
Later that afternoon | Isolation and Desolation
Running from Hogwarts brought her back to their old house in London. The last two hours or so were spent sprawled in bed, staring at the ceiling doing nothing but torturing herself with the most overbearing weight that had settled within her soul. The silence of the house is only amplifying the truth and demanding for a confrontation, and Hermione is powerless to bury it any longer—
She loves Minerva.
She wants Minerva.
She needs Minerva.
and She CAN'T HAVE MINERVA.
Fucking hell, the woman is NOT for anyone's fucking taking.
"Falling in love with Minerva McGonagall! How fucking stupid Hermione!" As loud as she could, Hermione angrily shouted at no one with venom she didn't realize she possessed. She ran her hands over her face for the nth time with such force that again had left slight red marks on her pale skin and she could not care about the assault unto oneself.
"MC-GO-NA-GALL! Of all the witches in this bloody magical world! BRIGHTEST witch of your age and you did not see the madness of wanting the unattainable." She told herself in repulsion, and pounded the bed with both of her fist with her self-scolding.
"How did you let this happen?" She demanded. "It's the bloody war's fault. Bloody war!" And she insisted to find something to blame for. "It was simple and it was contained, and I was content with the order of things." She screamed in frustration.
Confusingly, the labyrinth it had become was far from linear that Hermione was used to before the war. She was a young muggle-born witch trying to show that she does indeed belong in the wizarding world just as the next witch at Hogwarts. And Minerva McGonagall for her was a figure of authority, and a mentor— both well defined roles as far she knew.
In the early weeks when she arrived at Hogwarts as first year, it was easy for her to single-out their head of house as someone whose devotion ran beyond her Transfiguration subject. Even those belonging in other houses were vocal of how Professor Minerva McGonagall is a disciplinarian through and through. But at the same time, there is a consensus that the woman is probably the most welcoming professor to any students who are wise (and perhaps brave) to come for advance lessons. And since Hermione was devoted to nothing else but becoming a better witch, giving her education an utmost importance, it was crystal clear at onset how she would seek the opportunity that actually made her a perfect protege. No one would say otherwise, not withstanding the predicaments she got involved with, a by-product of being friends with one Harry Potter.
Via the same educational goals, Hermione was granted a time-turner during her third year, which paved way for a friendly rapport with the older woman. But still, it was strictly the official kind as the professor guided her with the rigorous class schedule and the extra interactions afforded her to literally have more time spent with the strict Minerva McGonagall. But all of them were about helping her to unleash her potential, her magic.
In their fourth year, when her friends as well as the rest of the students in her year appeared to have shifted their attention from childish antics to courtship and dating, Hermione felt she was back in first year in those first few awful weeks before the troll incident. Again, she was feeling out of place and seemed far behind with everybody else in everything not related to assignments and examinations. So when the Yule ball brought trivialities, she gritted her teeth and yielded to give a piece of attention to such. She even accepted Victor Krum's request to be his date when all she wanted to do was to make sure that Harry will be prepared for the trials, or at least not get killed.
For a while, it pretty much set an impression to small-minded students that her case was not the absence of interest, but of her just being too 'finicky.' She was too pleased to be left alone regarding the aspect of her dating and yet not feel alienated amongst her peers that she let such inaccurate notion about her ran along as much as it could.
But that did not sustain, as she never encouraged Viktor for more than anything but friendship, so she needed another obfuscation. She then scrambled to appear that her lack of romantic involvement with the opposite gender could be explained with her lack of time for anything else other than for studying. That was not a difficult sell considering her brainy reputation. Predictably, it did not made her 'Ms. Popular' and did little to gain herself more friends, but as always, she is comfortable with handfuls. More importantly, she is far content to be best friends with Harry and Ron. And both boys never bother her about her lack of dating life, although presumably they were also convinced that she is too studious for 'normal teenage' antics.
'Too finicky' and 'too studious', two unrelated things helped her get excluded from most gossip related to romantic attachment amongst the student body and she allowed it thoroughly. But privately she could feel something's amiss and the feeling got more pronounced when she got in fifth year. Despite being in their OWLS year, Hermione with her much advanced revisions, she could and did complete the professors' tasks and homework easily and overly fast, which gave her vacuum for rumination. Again and again, she would find herself circling around a harrowing suspicion about herself. But every time she would arrived at a certain brink, she would dismiss it in the same way she dismisses Professor Trelawney's predictions.
However, there were nights that she cannot stop the self-interrogation; some questions she rather not answer would break out... Why she has zero interest to have Victor as a boyfriend? She knew that most girls are lobbying for that kind of opportunity to date him, but she could not make herself care about it. She was willing to be friends with him as it never hurt to have another, but clearly Victor wanted more and she wanted no more than friendship.
Another question- Why she felt no inclination to give back Ron's obvious 'crush' to her? Of course her mind had caught Mrs. Weasleys delight at the notion, including Harry's and Ginny's. Certainly it would be convenient, anyway she likes Ron and loves him too. But the kind of affection she has for him is one has for a brother. The kind that she has for Harry. And she would bet that Ron's 'crush' would eventually go away and sees her as his sister.
And a more honest question- Why she felt no inclination to date at all? Often, she would ask herself if she is simply not cut out for it especially that she cannot see what her fellow female students consider as 'interesting' and 'good looking' boys. She would ask herself if she lacks some sort of senses that are related to trigger attraction. Or that she has poor eyesight for failing to notice certain 'boys'.
To these questions, Hermione did not want to accept that something was wrong with her. She kept pushing her uncompromising stance on her academic goals as valid explanations. Her single-mindedness to learn and learn is what she would employ for the absence of attraction to both boys, or to anyone... But then, deep inside her a scream of how that was not entirely accurate would burst... that there is someone she considers attractive…
A professor… who is a woman… a well-known stern witch... who is a couple of decades her senior... whose name is Minerva McGonagall!
These are things that Hermione's mind would dig deeper for acceptable explanations. She would test her logic to make sense of it. She thought of how in her second year she had a 'crush' on Professor Lockhart? Ron and Harry thought that her admiration for the professor was something to do with his looks, as that is the prevalent reason why he was popular. But Hermione actually never saw the professor's 'good looks'. She admired Lockhart because of his 'achievements' that she had read from what he had written in his books. Of course that was before her own eyes condensed him to a dreadful wizard that he is. When his fabrication came into the surface, she was aghast that she ever admired him. She even berated the books she had read about him for the deception.
So with a bit of satisfaction, she would conclude that her admiration for her Transfiguration Professor is nothing more than an extension of her passion on education. That naturally, who would draw her fascination is someone she admires most and inspires her to do her best. (Even though she failed to consider that unlike Lockhart, she would workdouble hard in her transfiguration subject not just to have high marks, but also for a prospect of making the stern Professor McGonagall smile in approval for her excellent work.) But that is just that; her desires to get approval from someone venerable like Minerva McGonagall. And it can't be anything else.
Then the war came.
And cut all her bullshit.
During their quest to find the horcruxes, their days and nights were filled with danger and being on the list of undesirable made them constantly high on alert. But the ever-present threat of not being alive the next day drove Hermione to an ultimate confrontation regarding her life… her muggle world… her wizarding world… her best friends… her family… her heart.
With their world plunged into darkness; mortal peril is in non-hyperbole characterization, Hermione lost her proficiency at managing the unacknowledged fact about herself... She had to come out to herself... And then she had to confess to herself of what she harbors in her heart... that she is in love with one witch— in love with Minerva McGonagall.
Following the admittance, there were isolation, vulnerability, fear, neglect, hunger, confusion, uncertainty, and longing— these all carried Hermione to wrestle a promise out of oneself. A promise that if she survives the war, she will regard her heart's desire with full reverence no matter what.
Humorless laugh escaped from Hermione on how simple she thought things would be; to promise something so far-fetched was too easy… easy when one is not certain to live to carry the promise.
When Hermione angrily ran her hands over her face again, she was startled at the dampness, momentarily panicked that anyone would see her brokenness before she was reminded that she had locked herself in her old room at their house in London, and absolutely away from condemnation. Not for the first time the last couple of days that she'd find tears pouring out from her eyes with unaware wrecked sobs. Strangely, this time, it triggered a rage in her for what she is allowing herself to be— a feeble, and immature person.
"Cut your loses Hermione and move on" she scolded herself.
The empty house is suddenly too suffocating for her self-isolation. She needs to do something. She needs to shut this matter at once.
"Like ripping a haphazard placed plaster on an untreated wound." She told herself of the only approach she knows that is strong enough to shake her out of desolation.
She apparated to Hogwarts.
End of Chapter 3 | Year 1998 | Isolation and Desolation
I am just borrowing from JK Rowling her marvelous characters and spinning them into my liking.