A glimpse at the past, when the relationship between our two favourite witches changed.

~x~

She sat on the edge of the large sofa, her elbows on her knees, her bushy curls flowing around her, eyes closed and her head in her hands. She was beyond exhaustion.

Feeling the dip of the sofa cushion beside her, when her hand was taken into larger warm ones, she opened her eyes and peered at the older woman beside her, seeing the tenderness in her green eyes.

How it was, that over the months since the war ended and they'd started spending time together, drinking tea, discussing all manner of subjects and playing Wizarding chess, her feelings for the older witch had grown this far out of proportion, she didn't know.

Over the years she'd studied at Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall had been a constant reminder of all she hoped she'd be one day. Humble yet fierce, with a moral code that showed she was inherently good, as a witch and a woman, she was absolute perfection.

The manifestation of her feelings had taken her by surprise and there was no one left in her life to reassure her that there was nothing wrong with her sentiments. Her parents had been banished, with no memory of her, to Australia, and her best friends had declined to return to Hogwarts in favour of beginning their careers as Aurors for the Ministry of Magic.

A thumb brushed against the top of her hand lightly in a comforting gesture "Hermione, I hope you know that I am here for you."

"I know." She whispered.

"Then talk to me." Minerva urged. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't know what to say." She admitted.

"I can see you are working too hard. Not only did you help restore the school, but now you're studying for your NEWTs and two masteries." Minerva's thumb continued to brush over her hand. "Maybe you've taken on too much."

Hermione pulled away, bristling indignantly. "How dare you!" She stood up and started to pace. "I can't believe—Merlin, I should have known—" The words were spat through clenched teeth, her frustration growing rapidly.

Minerva sighed. "After everything, you're allowed to sit back and take things easy, Hermione. I know you may see it as quitting or some kind of failure, but—"

She spun around to glare at the other witch. "You don't see me at all, do you? You can't see past the student I am. The know-it-all." Her anger was palpable and it showed in the sparks of raw magic that erupted from her. "You're totally bloody oblivious."

"I do see you." Minerva insisted. "How can you think otherwise? I'm not telling you to give up or to stop trying to be the best you can be, but—"

Tangling her hands into her bushy curls, she yanked them. "I love you, you foolish witch." She bowed her head and covered her face, unwilling to look at the older woman. The last thing she needed was to hear the sting of rejection she knew was coming. Turning away, she stumbled towards the door that would provide her escape.

As soon as her hand reached for the door, a hand encompassed her wrist and she was forcibly turned, into the warmth of the tall, slim body of the woman she loved. She looked up into glistening green eyes and unable to resist, moved onto her tiptoes and captured the soft, kissable lips in a blistering caress that seemed to stop the world. She felt the warmth of the older witch's magic surrounding her and felt content. For the first time since entering the Wizarding World, she felt like she belonged. It was all so wonderfully familiar and yet so very new.

When Minerva pulled away, taking three or four quick steps back, Hermione understood. The strength it took not to chase the blissful contact of their kiss, was a burden. And yet, she saw the disbelief and uncertainty etched in the older witches' expressive eyes.

"How can you love me, Hermione?" Minerva queried.

Her head bowed with the weight of the question. She would need to fight to make the other witch understand she meant what she said. Lifting her face, she caught Minerva's eyes. "You're beautiful. Your presence fills me with awe, and so much love, I can't keep ignoring it." She explained. "Your scent is all of my favourite things and it soothes me." She sighed. "You are everything to me, Minerva McGonagall. You are my pillar of strength and someone I trust beyond anything or anyone. I know you will never hurt me." She gestured between them. "There's nothing wrong or shameful in this since I am no longer a child. So tell me you don't feel the same, and I'll leave you be, but if you feel something too, I'll wait forever if that's what you need."

She could see her words lighting a fire in the older witch, clear in the desire darkening her eyes. And she understood, with startling clarity, that what she felt for the witch was in no way unrequited. Finally, she was free from the exhausting battle with her feelings and she felt the sudden relief crashing through her entire body.

If not today, then someday in the future she could finally embrace the other witch. They could be joined in body, mind and soul. Across all time and space, they would reach out to each other and find a way to be together.

She would remember this moment forever. She had finally let go of the one fear she held closest to her. Her biggest secret. That of her love for the formidable, and extraordinary, Minerva McGonagall.