Chapter 4
The return to Hogwarts was horrid for everyone. Ron and Hermione tried not to look as they stepped over the bodies of the Death Eaters destroyed when Voldemort fell. Dead and dying Aurors lay on the grass, and Professor McGonagall began to cry as the burning towers of the school appeared in front of them.
And then the celebrations began, and the rumors, and somehow that was almost more terrible.
Messiah, savior, the boy who killed Voldemort.
Hermione watched from her window in the hospital wing as crews worked day and night first to bury the dead and then to restore the ancient building. She watched as the banners rose again, and the courtyards filled with gawkers coming to celebrate the final fall of the enemy.
The worst part was the loneliness. Harry was somewhere deep in the Ministry, with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape. She and Ron had been debriefed as soon as possible after their physical injuries were tended- a roomful of anxious Ministry officials had crowded into their sick rooms and asked question after question until Madam Pomfrey had been forced to remove them for her patients' safety. Ron left the next day, taken back to the Burrow by his parents until the school re-opened.
Hermione snuffled a little as she remembered arriving back at Hogwarts itself. They had opened the doors and straggled into what remained of the Great Hall; Dumbledore carrying Harry and walking with Snape, she and Ron with McGonagall a few steps behind. Two Unspeakables carried Madam Hooch on a litter.
Inside Aurors, Unspeakables, and Ministry officials mixed with teachers, parents, and students. The sounds of sobbing filled the room, as more and more names were slowly added to the lists of the dead and the injured.
"RON!"
Mrs. Weasley turned from where she had been comforting a wailing first year, and shrieked at the sight of her dirty, battered, but above all live, son.
A moment later and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were wrapped around their son, desperately kissing and hugging the weeping boy. A crowd of shouting bodies ran to surround the small tattered group.
"Molly, Arthur, we really must get the children to the hospital wing," Dumbledore called over the din.
"Of course, of course," said Molly Weasley, laughing and crying all together.
"Mum," Ron got out, tugging at his mother's sleeve. "Hey mum?"
"What is it Ron, what do you need?" Molly said. She bent down to hear.
"Would you hug Professor Snape? Please? He deserves it," Ron said.
Molly Weasley looked into her son's eyes and nodded slowly. She marched to the potions master, who was leaning, forgotten, against a wall.
"Severus?" Molly said.
"Yes?"
Carefully the red-haired woman wrapped her arms around the taller man, hugging him close.
Snape stiffened in suprise, and then sagged to his knees.
"We brought them home Molly," he said, choking. "They didn't have to see."
Molly knelt, and hugged the man more tightly. She wasn't sure what had happened, but her soft heart broke at the sight of the cold man she had known since childhood weeping like a child himself.
"Whatever you, and the others did, you brought me back my Ron," Molly said, "And for that you will always have a place in my heart. Anyone has anything to say about you, they'll have to go through the Weasleys first."
Hermione watched as Mr. Weasley went to join his wife. A moment later he too had wrapped his arms around Severus Snape.
A light touch on her arm startled the girl.
"What? Oh, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said.
"You need to be in the hospital wing," Minerva said, "but first I must say something Miss Granger."
Hermione gulped. Professor McGonagall was going to kill her.
"I have never, in all my life, had someone disobey a direct order from both myself and Professor Dumbledore as blatantly as you did."
The girl's breath begin to hitch and she struggled not to cry.
McGonagall took Hermione's hand and squeezed. "And I have also never had anyone willing to do what you tried to do today. Why in the name of Merlin would you put yourself at risk to save me?"
Hermione looked at the floor and mumbled.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione looked up. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out.
"We will talk about this later," Minerva said. "What you did was both incredibly brave and incredibly foolish; I would have thought you had learned better after the incident with the troll."
Hermione nodded and would have said something, but at that moment Madam Pomfrey trundled down the steps and began to bark orders right and left. Before the girl could protest, she was hurried up to the hospital wing and the dreary business of healing began.
She had been avoiding Minerva McGonagall ever since, unable to find an explaination that did not make her sound like a complete and utter prat.
She pushed back the covers and slid her legs from the bed. She had told Madam Pomfrey that she did not want visitors, any visitors. There really wasn't anyone wanting to visit anyway, not with Ron and Harry gone.
Anyone but Professor McGonagall anyway.
Hermione winced as she pulled on a pair of loose black trousers and a soft white shirt. Professor McGonagall was there every day, and every day Madam Pomfrey told her to go away.
Right on cue, an argument began at the edge of the girl's hearing.
"What do you mean I can't go in?" Minerva McGonagall's voice sounded angry. "She's the Head Girl of my House and she's been in there almost a month. Now Poppy be reasonable!"
There was a quiet reply from Madam Pomfrey, and then Hermione heard-
"What do you mean, I should be reasonable? Poppy, I am going in there, now stand aside."
There was another mutter and then, a slam.
Hermione sat down on the bed as Minerva McGonagall stepped into the room.
"Is Madam Pomfrey all right?" Hermione asked.
"I threatened to transform her into a cockroach, if you must know," Minerva said, "She's gone to compose herself."
McGonagall seated herself on the bed beside the girl. "Miss Granger, why in the world have you refused to let me in? You have never been afraid to face up to your actions before."
Hermione blushed a deep red. "I didn't want to talk about what I did."
McGonagall shook her head, "I'm not going to take house points for something like that."
The girl swallowed miserably. "I just don't want to talk about it."
Minerva McGonagall looked annoyed. "You needn't re-live what happened in that horrible room. I simply need to know why you did what you did. Why did you try to draw him away from me after you had been told to protect yourselves?"
Hermione bit her lip. "Please, don't make me tell you," she whispered.
McGonagall's face tightened. "Miss Granger, you have to tell me," she said. "I have nightmares every night. During the day I ask myself over and over, why?" She looked up.
"Do you know what answer I fear the most?"
Hermione shook her head slowly.
"That you felt you had to. That somehow you believed I would blame you if he raped me."
Minerva let out a shaking breath. "There, I said it. Now for Merlin's sake child, let me hear the truth, whatever it may be. I'm not here to reprimand you, I simply need some peace."
Hermione threw herself full length on the bed and hid her face in the pillow.
"I did it because I couldn't stand to see him, to see anyone, touch you," the girl choked out.
"But why?" Minerva asked in confusion. She laid a gentle hand on the girl's head. "I am your head of house, but surely you did not believe your obligation extended that far?"
Hermione shivered. "Don't you know?" she said miserably. "Do I have to say it?"
There was a long silence.
"Oh Miss Granger," said Minerva, "No."
Angrily, Hermione rolled over and glared at the older woman. "Well, you wanted to know. I'm sorry if my silly sixteen year old emotions are embarrassing."
"I'm not embarrassed," said McGonagall, her face reddening.
"Well now you know and you can laugh at me for being so smart and such a bloody git at the same time," Hermione snarled.
Minerva closed her eyes. "Hermione, I am four times your age."
The girl laughed bitterly. "And saying that makes it go away? I've always known there's no chance."
"But you were still willing to suffer in my place?"
"I'm sorry," said Hermione. She sat up and buried her face in her bent knees.
"I know you think this is just a crush and that I was being thoughtless and theatrical," the girl said hopelessly, "But I knew what I was doing. I would rather he ripped me to shreds than that he so much as touched your face."
A hand touched her shoulder and she looked up.
"Hermione, I'm old," Minerva said firmly. "I wouldn't know what to do, even if I could. I'm
flattered, of course, but it really is out of the question."
The girl shook her head, "You're middle aged for a witch, and there's not that much to it, if you wanted to. There are books in the restricted section of the library that explain it all."
"Hermione," Minerva said waspishly, "Sexuality is not some sort of, of- research project. I will not use this tragedy to justify sexual exploration with a child."
Hermione grabbed McGonagall's hand and said desperately, "Would you consider it?"
Minerva looked down, but said nothing.
"Have you ever thought about it?" the girl asked.
The woman reddened again. "You are one of my students, even if I care for you very much. I would not consider it. This conversation is becoming foolish."
Hermione took a deep breath.
"I love you Professor McGonagall." She squeezed the woman's hand. "Please, I - "
McGonagall stood abruptly, pulling her hand free. "I have to go."
"Come back later, please," Hermione begged, "Madam Pomfrey goes to bed at 11 PM and I have the room to myself until dawn unless I call."
"Miss Granger, I have to go now." Without looking back, the witch escaped the room.
"Well that could have been better," Hermione said softly. She sat back on the bed and waited for Madam Pomfrey to re-appear.
The return to Hogwarts was horrid for everyone. Ron and Hermione tried not to look as they stepped over the bodies of the Death Eaters destroyed when Voldemort fell. Dead and dying Aurors lay on the grass, and Professor McGonagall began to cry as the burning towers of the school appeared in front of them.
And then the celebrations began, and the rumors, and somehow that was almost more terrible.
Messiah, savior, the boy who killed Voldemort.
Hermione watched from her window in the hospital wing as crews worked day and night first to bury the dead and then to restore the ancient building. She watched as the banners rose again, and the courtyards filled with gawkers coming to celebrate the final fall of the enemy.
The worst part was the loneliness. Harry was somewhere deep in the Ministry, with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape. She and Ron had been debriefed as soon as possible after their physical injuries were tended- a roomful of anxious Ministry officials had crowded into their sick rooms and asked question after question until Madam Pomfrey had been forced to remove them for her patients' safety. Ron left the next day, taken back to the Burrow by his parents until the school re-opened.
Hermione snuffled a little as she remembered arriving back at Hogwarts itself. They had opened the doors and straggled into what remained of the Great Hall; Dumbledore carrying Harry and walking with Snape, she and Ron with McGonagall a few steps behind. Two Unspeakables carried Madam Hooch on a litter.
Inside Aurors, Unspeakables, and Ministry officials mixed with teachers, parents, and students. The sounds of sobbing filled the room, as more and more names were slowly added to the lists of the dead and the injured.
"RON!"
Mrs. Weasley turned from where she had been comforting a wailing first year, and shrieked at the sight of her dirty, battered, but above all live, son.
A moment later and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were wrapped around their son, desperately kissing and hugging the weeping boy. A crowd of shouting bodies ran to surround the small tattered group.
"Molly, Arthur, we really must get the children to the hospital wing," Dumbledore called over the din.
"Of course, of course," said Molly Weasley, laughing and crying all together.
"Mum," Ron got out, tugging at his mother's sleeve. "Hey mum?"
"What is it Ron, what do you need?" Molly said. She bent down to hear.
"Would you hug Professor Snape? Please? He deserves it," Ron said.
Molly Weasley looked into her son's eyes and nodded slowly. She marched to the potions master, who was leaning, forgotten, against a wall.
"Severus?" Molly said.
"Yes?"
Carefully the red-haired woman wrapped her arms around the taller man, hugging him close.
Snape stiffened in suprise, and then sagged to his knees.
"We brought them home Molly," he said, choking. "They didn't have to see."
Molly knelt, and hugged the man more tightly. She wasn't sure what had happened, but her soft heart broke at the sight of the cold man she had known since childhood weeping like a child himself.
"Whatever you, and the others did, you brought me back my Ron," Molly said, "And for that you will always have a place in my heart. Anyone has anything to say about you, they'll have to go through the Weasleys first."
Hermione watched as Mr. Weasley went to join his wife. A moment later he too had wrapped his arms around Severus Snape.
A light touch on her arm startled the girl.
"What? Oh, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said.
"You need to be in the hospital wing," Minerva said, "but first I must say something Miss Granger."
Hermione gulped. Professor McGonagall was going to kill her.
"I have never, in all my life, had someone disobey a direct order from both myself and Professor Dumbledore as blatantly as you did."
The girl's breath begin to hitch and she struggled not to cry.
McGonagall took Hermione's hand and squeezed. "And I have also never had anyone willing to do what you tried to do today. Why in the name of Merlin would you put yourself at risk to save me?"
Hermione looked at the floor and mumbled.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione looked up. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out.
"We will talk about this later," Minerva said. "What you did was both incredibly brave and incredibly foolish; I would have thought you had learned better after the incident with the troll."
Hermione nodded and would have said something, but at that moment Madam Pomfrey trundled down the steps and began to bark orders right and left. Before the girl could protest, she was hurried up to the hospital wing and the dreary business of healing began.
She had been avoiding Minerva McGonagall ever since, unable to find an explaination that did not make her sound like a complete and utter prat.
She pushed back the covers and slid her legs from the bed. She had told Madam Pomfrey that she did not want visitors, any visitors. There really wasn't anyone wanting to visit anyway, not with Ron and Harry gone.
Anyone but Professor McGonagall anyway.
Hermione winced as she pulled on a pair of loose black trousers and a soft white shirt. Professor McGonagall was there every day, and every day Madam Pomfrey told her to go away.
Right on cue, an argument began at the edge of the girl's hearing.
"What do you mean I can't go in?" Minerva McGonagall's voice sounded angry. "She's the Head Girl of my House and she's been in there almost a month. Now Poppy be reasonable!"
There was a quiet reply from Madam Pomfrey, and then Hermione heard-
"What do you mean, I should be reasonable? Poppy, I am going in there, now stand aside."
There was another mutter and then, a slam.
Hermione sat down on the bed as Minerva McGonagall stepped into the room.
"Is Madam Pomfrey all right?" Hermione asked.
"I threatened to transform her into a cockroach, if you must know," Minerva said, "She's gone to compose herself."
McGonagall seated herself on the bed beside the girl. "Miss Granger, why in the world have you refused to let me in? You have never been afraid to face up to your actions before."
Hermione blushed a deep red. "I didn't want to talk about what I did."
McGonagall shook her head, "I'm not going to take house points for something like that."
The girl swallowed miserably. "I just don't want to talk about it."
Minerva McGonagall looked annoyed. "You needn't re-live what happened in that horrible room. I simply need to know why you did what you did. Why did you try to draw him away from me after you had been told to protect yourselves?"
Hermione bit her lip. "Please, don't make me tell you," she whispered.
McGonagall's face tightened. "Miss Granger, you have to tell me," she said. "I have nightmares every night. During the day I ask myself over and over, why?" She looked up.
"Do you know what answer I fear the most?"
Hermione shook her head slowly.
"That you felt you had to. That somehow you believed I would blame you if he raped me."
Minerva let out a shaking breath. "There, I said it. Now for Merlin's sake child, let me hear the truth, whatever it may be. I'm not here to reprimand you, I simply need some peace."
Hermione threw herself full length on the bed and hid her face in the pillow.
"I did it because I couldn't stand to see him, to see anyone, touch you," the girl choked out.
"But why?" Minerva asked in confusion. She laid a gentle hand on the girl's head. "I am your head of house, but surely you did not believe your obligation extended that far?"
Hermione shivered. "Don't you know?" she said miserably. "Do I have to say it?"
There was a long silence.
"Oh Miss Granger," said Minerva, "No."
Angrily, Hermione rolled over and glared at the older woman. "Well, you wanted to know. I'm sorry if my silly sixteen year old emotions are embarrassing."
"I'm not embarrassed," said McGonagall, her face reddening.
"Well now you know and you can laugh at me for being so smart and such a bloody git at the same time," Hermione snarled.
Minerva closed her eyes. "Hermione, I am four times your age."
The girl laughed bitterly. "And saying that makes it go away? I've always known there's no chance."
"But you were still willing to suffer in my place?"
"I'm sorry," said Hermione. She sat up and buried her face in her bent knees.
"I know you think this is just a crush and that I was being thoughtless and theatrical," the girl said hopelessly, "But I knew what I was doing. I would rather he ripped me to shreds than that he so much as touched your face."
A hand touched her shoulder and she looked up.
"Hermione, I'm old," Minerva said firmly. "I wouldn't know what to do, even if I could. I'm
flattered, of course, but it really is out of the question."
The girl shook her head, "You're middle aged for a witch, and there's not that much to it, if you wanted to. There are books in the restricted section of the library that explain it all."
"Hermione," Minerva said waspishly, "Sexuality is not some sort of, of- research project. I will not use this tragedy to justify sexual exploration with a child."
Hermione grabbed McGonagall's hand and said desperately, "Would you consider it?"
Minerva looked down, but said nothing.
"Have you ever thought about it?" the girl asked.
The woman reddened again. "You are one of my students, even if I care for you very much. I would not consider it. This conversation is becoming foolish."
Hermione took a deep breath.
"I love you Professor McGonagall." She squeezed the woman's hand. "Please, I - "
McGonagall stood abruptly, pulling her hand free. "I have to go."
"Come back later, please," Hermione begged, "Madam Pomfrey goes to bed at 11 PM and I have the room to myself until dawn unless I call."
"Miss Granger, I have to go now." Without looking back, the witch escaped the room.
"Well that could have been better," Hermione said softly. She sat back on the bed and waited for Madam Pomfrey to re-appear.
