Author's terribly long-winded note: Thanks to everybody who's stuck with this story, even though I've taken awhile to update. In addition to moving all my stuff home from college (and using the family compy rather than the beautiful baby I use at school (who shall henceforth be referred to as Mr. J.)) I've had to contend with the start of my summer job, babysitting twin 5 year old boys and their one year old brother (how does a baby weigh 40 pounds?!?!?), who are inordinately fussy. On my superhero's list are: ying zero, stargoddess, Genevieve, panda g. pinke, D.J. Jones, Hallie Marie, chix, LIZARD, foggynite, Grey Lady, Andrea, ~whiterose~, Bryn, Maeve, Water Sprite, debra, Phyllia, Renee, Amber Eyes, kate, Love Gordon, Celia, ~ANGELina~(~Dracaena~), Amber, zoe, DarkKnight, StrangerWithMyFace, spy_angel, Anne, ~*Snow Angel*~, w&m_law (whom I shall refer to as one of my most ardent supporters... Take a hint from her, people. Reviews are delightful in both quality and quantity), maidmarian62, Serafina, Silver, Robin, VUSunflower, Rebecca, Lana Mavi, Lily James Potter, trowas barton, Juliet_99, Joy, Mage, izzy, Mari and LissaLapin.
As always, with the exception of Marigold, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Hermione paused before knocking at the door to Ginny's flat. When there was no answer, she whispered "Alohorama" and the door opened before her.
"Ginny?"
"She's in the bedroom weeping," said a voice from behind the loveseat. Upon further investigation, Hermione found McGonagall crouching in her cat carrier, hopping from one foot to the other.
"How long has this been going on?"
The cat continued hopping and sounded a bit out of breath. "A few hours. Before that it was the kitchen table. Before the kitchen table it was the floor. Before the floor, the loveseat. As exciting as it has all bee, I've got to piss like a racehorse, pardon my French. If you could just lift the little latch thing..."
Bending down, Hermione liberated the cat and watched with a bemused expression as her former professor scampered out of the room. She supposed it was only natural for a student to feel odd when required to view an admired instructor as anything less than perfect, however the entirety of the McGonagall's situation made it more difficult than anything Hermione could have anticipated.
Moments later, the cat returned. "Well? Why are you standing about in the living room?" The feline queried. "Fix it."
"Well, I'm not particularly used to this sort of thing. Harry and Ron don't really have crying jags all that often."
"I'm under the impression that ice cream and tissue paper are of some assistance in this sort of a situation. You might also want to sing something by the Supremes, whilst using a hairbrush as a microphone," the cat advised.
"I suppose so," Hermione sighed and walked to the bedroom door. "Ginny? You all right in there?"
After much sniffling, Ginny stuck her head out of the door. "I'm fine," Ginny chirped over brightly. "I just have a little cold."
"Miss Weasley, I have never seen a worse liar in my entire life," called out McGonagall. "Miss Granger may be a poor excuse for a friend-"
"I am not-"
"Oh do shut up. You are," the cat said before returning her attention to Ginny. "However, she is also an auror, and while her comforting skills are woefully inadequate, her ability to detect the truth remains intact."
Hermione, having shut up, watched as Ginny and McGonagall attempted to outglare each other.
As at Hogwarts years ago, McGonagall won. It was to be expected.
"And then," Ginny sobbed into her hot cocoa. "He just walked out."
"A lovely man. Why ever were we not friends with him during our formative years?" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Because he was an insufferable little beast," McGonagall said logically. "Wait... were you being ironic?"
"He still is," sobbed Ginny. "And I've gone and fallen in love with him."
"I'm sure you'll get over it," soothed Hermione. "For now, the best thing you can do is not think about it more than necessary."
"There's entirely too much to be done to spend your time worrying about that silly git." Minnie agreed. "You'll need to explain things to your family tonight, and then there's the press conference tomorrow."
"And we'll have to get new robes your appointment to minister ceremony."
"All that?" Ginny's eyes went wide.
"And you'll have to help with the wedding. We've chosen you as maid of honor."
"Really? You've made it official?" Ginny's eyes began to fill again.
"Oh, don't cry over it," Hermione said in apology. "I didn't mean rub your nose in my happiness..."
"You'll make a beautiful bride," Ginny sobbed through a partially disintegrated tissue.
"Let her cry," McGonagall advised. "Tell me about the wedding."
"We haven't set a date yet, but we've decided it's going to be muggle."
"No magic?" The cat asked, scandalized.
"Theirs is a love that transcends the barrier between muggle and wizard." Ginny collapsed on the table.
"It'll be much easier for my family, and we can hopefully get all of the wizards who come to tone things down a bit. Plus, it'll be much less of a security nightmare if it's not attended by half the wizarding world."
"True," the cat nodded.
Hermione looked at Ginny, who was dabbing the last of her tears with bits of tissue. "I've got to go. I doubt I'll be there tonight."
"Lucky you."
"Tell Harry not to wait up for me."
As always, with the exception of Marigold, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Hermione paused before knocking at the door to Ginny's flat. When there was no answer, she whispered "Alohorama" and the door opened before her.
"Ginny?"
"She's in the bedroom weeping," said a voice from behind the loveseat. Upon further investigation, Hermione found McGonagall crouching in her cat carrier, hopping from one foot to the other.
"How long has this been going on?"
The cat continued hopping and sounded a bit out of breath. "A few hours. Before that it was the kitchen table. Before the kitchen table it was the floor. Before the floor, the loveseat. As exciting as it has all bee, I've got to piss like a racehorse, pardon my French. If you could just lift the little latch thing..."
Bending down, Hermione liberated the cat and watched with a bemused expression as her former professor scampered out of the room. She supposed it was only natural for a student to feel odd when required to view an admired instructor as anything less than perfect, however the entirety of the McGonagall's situation made it more difficult than anything Hermione could have anticipated.
Moments later, the cat returned. "Well? Why are you standing about in the living room?" The feline queried. "Fix it."
"Well, I'm not particularly used to this sort of thing. Harry and Ron don't really have crying jags all that often."
"I'm under the impression that ice cream and tissue paper are of some assistance in this sort of a situation. You might also want to sing something by the Supremes, whilst using a hairbrush as a microphone," the cat advised.
"I suppose so," Hermione sighed and walked to the bedroom door. "Ginny? You all right in there?"
After much sniffling, Ginny stuck her head out of the door. "I'm fine," Ginny chirped over brightly. "I just have a little cold."
"Miss Weasley, I have never seen a worse liar in my entire life," called out McGonagall. "Miss Granger may be a poor excuse for a friend-"
"I am not-"
"Oh do shut up. You are," the cat said before returning her attention to Ginny. "However, she is also an auror, and while her comforting skills are woefully inadequate, her ability to detect the truth remains intact."
Hermione, having shut up, watched as Ginny and McGonagall attempted to outglare each other.
As at Hogwarts years ago, McGonagall won. It was to be expected.
"And then," Ginny sobbed into her hot cocoa. "He just walked out."
"A lovely man. Why ever were we not friends with him during our formative years?" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Because he was an insufferable little beast," McGonagall said logically. "Wait... were you being ironic?"
"He still is," sobbed Ginny. "And I've gone and fallen in love with him."
"I'm sure you'll get over it," soothed Hermione. "For now, the best thing you can do is not think about it more than necessary."
"There's entirely too much to be done to spend your time worrying about that silly git." Minnie agreed. "You'll need to explain things to your family tonight, and then there's the press conference tomorrow."
"And we'll have to get new robes your appointment to minister ceremony."
"All that?" Ginny's eyes went wide.
"And you'll have to help with the wedding. We've chosen you as maid of honor."
"Really? You've made it official?" Ginny's eyes began to fill again.
"Oh, don't cry over it," Hermione said in apology. "I didn't mean rub your nose in my happiness..."
"You'll make a beautiful bride," Ginny sobbed through a partially disintegrated tissue.
"Let her cry," McGonagall advised. "Tell me about the wedding."
"We haven't set a date yet, but we've decided it's going to be muggle."
"No magic?" The cat asked, scandalized.
"Theirs is a love that transcends the barrier between muggle and wizard." Ginny collapsed on the table.
"It'll be much easier for my family, and we can hopefully get all of the wizards who come to tone things down a bit. Plus, it'll be much less of a security nightmare if it's not attended by half the wizarding world."
"True," the cat nodded.
Hermione looked at Ginny, who was dabbing the last of her tears with bits of tissue. "I've got to go. I doubt I'll be there tonight."
"Lucky you."
"Tell Harry not to wait up for me."