So this is it.
My debut as a fan fic writer. Quite exciting actually:)
This is just a first chapter. Please let me know what you think!
(I know the pairing is odd, but it was all the more exciting that way)
Chapter one: This is the dawn of realisation
"Aaah! This is just redicilous!" Hermione plunged back into the deep red armchair in the Gryffindor common room tilting her head back and covering her face in her hands.
Harry and Ron who'd been deep into conversation about the Weasly twins new inventions stopped in mid track at their friends outburst.
"Look, if you're that-" Ron started but she cut him off, knowing that he'd say the same thing he'd been saying for the past week.
"No Ron, I'm not asking for help. This is just stupid. I should be able to grasp this. I mean, it's not brainsurgery or anything." She sighed in frustration.
"Brainsurg-wha´?" Only Ron could look that confused. But before Hermione could take her frustration out on Ron, Harry quickly intercepted.
"Don't ask." He said to his friend then turned to Hermione. "You're working yourself too hard. Nobody gets it."
"Personly I think McGonagall is having some sort of fit. I mean honestly!" Ron looked from Harry to Hermione. "How are we supposed to memorize all these incantations and wand movements anyway. It's just insane!"
"It's not insane." Hermione muttered back. "We knew this year would be much harder-"
"But if you're having problems with it, what hope do we have?" Ron was not about to give in.
"I'm NOT having problems with it!" She argued, though she'd just proved otherwise. "I'm just...frustrated, that's all." She was not trying to convince the boys as much as herself. She was having problems. For the first time since she started at Hogwarts she found herself at a total loss. She just didn't understand it! Her other classes where doing very well, even potions for christ sake. But when it came to this years transfiguration class, she had no idea what to do. And there was no way she could afford anything but the highest grade right now. Her future depended on it. Depended on this stupid book she just couldn't understand! She slammed her hands against the open book, making two second year students in the far corner of the room jump slightly.
"Just ask McGonagall for help would you." Ron ignored the angry look he recieved at that comment.
"You're the last person to give advice on schoolwork." As the bitter words excaped her lips she imediatly regretted saying them.
"Fine. Don't pass then." Angrily the redhaired boy collected his things and made his way up to the boys dormitory.
"Ron! I'm sorry, I -" Hermione started, but he'd already slammed the door behind him.
"Harry..?" She pleaded. And as the designated peacemaker between his two friends, Harry just sighed.
"I'll talk to him." He said, packing up his things as well. "But at least concider talking to McGonagall. It couldn't hurt." Hermione gave him a reluctant nodd before he too vanished into his dormitory. She lunged back into the chair again with a deep sigh.
Maybe they where right, she tought, though imagine taking advice from Ron was a bit much for her to digest at the moment. Just talking to McGonagall didn't have to be interprited as a defeat. She could maybe get some pointers from her professor to help her in her studies. Yes, that she could do. It wasn't like she was saying she couldn't do it. No, she just needed a little guiding, that's all. She could do the rest herself. And she really needed that top grade.
As she started packing her books into her bag she decided. She would talk to Professor McGonagall the next day after class, just casually ask for some pointers.
As she felt at peace with her new desition, she left the common room to the two second graders whispering in the corner and went off to bed.
But something kept her up, even after hours of turning and tossing in her four-poster bed. A strange feeling in her stomach she couldn't quite place. She knew it was familiar, she'd felt it before. But she was to tired and to annoyed to piece the puzzle together.
She hadn't even noticed that she'd slept at all that night. But Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil where all to eager to let Hermione know that she'd been moaning in her sleep.
Well, at least I got some sleep then. She tought, noticing that she was already in a bad mood.
The rest of the day did seem to lighten her spirits a great deal. As Professor Flitwick ended the first lesson of the day by giving her a glowing praise for her work in charms, only to be topped when she got an "O" on her essay in magical history. And since the better part of the class had failed miserably in the same task, her grade was ever so much sweeter. Though she felt a sting of shame at that tought, she knew she'd earned it.
But as she walked into transfiguration class with Harry and Ron on either side of her, she felt the knot in her stomach from the night before return in a second.
It stayed with her all through the class, and at the end she was so frustrated she decided to ignore her pride and talk to her professor.
As McGonagall ended the lesson with a pile of homework, a muttering crowd started walking out the classroom doors.
Ron was quietly raging over the homework as they passed Hermione.
"Coming?" Harry had turned around to ask Hermione as he noticed she hadn't joined them.
"I'll meet you at lunch." She said somewhat distracted. "I need to speak to professor McGonagall." Harry gave her an aproving smile and dragged Ron with him out the door, knowing full well that his redhaired friend had a few jokes on the way about Hermione asking for help.
She took a deep breath before approaching her teachers desk where McGonagall was sitting, her eyes focused on the stack of parchment infront of her. Hermione took a quick moment to observe the woman at the desk. She was indeed the model of a distinguished professor. Though her age was marked in fine lines in her face and particularly around her eyes where the half-moon glasses seemed to magnify them, as well as several grey strains in her auburn hair, neatly tied up in a tight knot, her beauty was obvious. Her perfect posture was only enhanced by her emerald green robes and as Hermione stood there, a pair of surprised eyes in just the same colour as the robes, glanced at her from over the rim of the reading-glasses.
"Yes, ms Granger?" McGonagall had acknowliged her precense and Hermione strugled for a split second with her words.
"Professor, I was hoping I might have a word." She said in her most respectful voice.
"Certainly." McGonagall removed her reading-glasses and made a gesture to the chair in front of her desk. "Please have a seat." She said before laying her hands together on her desk as to show her pupil that she had her full attention.
The strange feeling in the pit of her stomach grew as Hermione took her seat opposite her professor. As the older woman looked at her with a concerned gaze, she knew that this feeling had nothing to do with her class.
She'd walked to the great hall in a trance like state and didn't even notice her surroundings until Harry poked her in the ribs at the Gryffindor table.
"Ouch!" She protested, holding her side.
"Sorry." He looked guilty for a split second before he remembered why he'd poked her in the first place. "You didn't answer my question." He reminded her.
Hermione looked at him as if he'd asked her to pass the fried hippogrif.
Ron sighed.
"Where've you been? He's asked you like three times how it went with McGonagall." Ron said irritably and looked at her with some suspicion.
"Oh." Hermione flushed a bit, realising she'd been playing the scenario over and over in her head since she'd left McGonagalls classroom. "Actually it went very well." It didn't take her long to restore her know-it-all attitude she was so well known for.
"And..?" Harry urged her on.
"And..." she continued a bit frustrated at their nosyness. "...I'll be going for tutoring twice a week." She wasn't that happy about reveiling this last part to her friends, but as she suspected they missinterpreted her reason for it.
"You're going for extra classes?" Ron gaped at the news.
"Stuff it Ron." She muttered back angrily.
"No, I'm just-" he tried to explain himself. "If you have to take extra classes, the rest of us are really screwed."
"I don't have to take extra classes Ron, I just.." She trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentance she'd thrown out in pure anger. It was the truth though. She'd realised that as she spoke it. But she'd never let her friends know that.
"Then why-?" Harry started but she cut him off.
"Because if I don't ace this class I can kiss my Auror career goodbye." She said a little too harshly. A quick glance at the boys made her realise she'd stepped over the line. "I'm sorry guys," she sighed.
"Don't worry about it." Harry said, giving her a careful smile.
"Yeah, we know how serious you are 'bout this." Ron continued.
"Sorry we pushed you." Harry added with genuine regret wich stung Hermione more than she wanted to admit. But she hadn't lied to them. She just hadn't told them everything. There was a big difference, wasn't there? Anyway it didn't matter much now. She had her first tutorial with McGonagall that same evening and just the thought of it brought a small smile to her lips.
What in Merlins name was she doing?
She'd been on her way up to McGonagalls office and caught herself straightening out her robes and hair in the dormitory mirrors. 'Would you get a hold of yourself!' She argued with her reflection. As she'd been talking to her professor earlier that day, she'd realised something about herself. Subconsiosly she'd probably known for a while, but as she sat there, trying to form words as McGonagalls wise green eyes surveyed her, there was no question about it anymore. She was never in the lack of words. On the contrary, Hermione was often known to say too much. But in that moment, her mind went blank. It had been doing that a lot lately, especially in transfiguration class. She had assumed it had to do with her worry about the Order. After all, she was very involved now and McGonagall was the one who she could count on to let her know if anything had changed. But she knew that wasn't it. She couldn't have cared less about the Order when her professor had layed a comforting hand on hers, telling her she would do her very best to help Hermione get the grade she wanted so badly.
It was that hand. The soft touch of a hand that had been in too many battles. 'Stop being redicilous.' She scolded herself. She was to focus on her schoolwork, and that was that. With a final glance in the mirror, she brushed of as much of these toughts as she could before picking up her books and walking out of her dormitory.
Five minutes later she was standing in front of the door to McGonagalls office. She was just in time and her hand shook slightly as she knocked on the solid mahogony door.
For a few moments no respons was heard and she lifted her hand to knock again, when a strickt voice of authority rang through the wood.
"Come in." Hermione took a deep breath before opening the massive door.
Minerva McGonagall was sitting at her desk as usual, with a quill in her hand and a stack of papers infront of her. Hermione wasn't sure if she was imagining the slightly flushed colour in her professors face, because within seconds it was gone.
"Sit down ms Granger." She said in a distracted voice without looking up at her visitor. Hermione was getting nervous. She cursed herself for it. It wasn't like she hadn't been in this office a hundred times before. Professor McGonagall was not only the head of the Gryffindor house, she was also a fellow member of the Order and she'd helped both her and her friends through their years at Hogwarts as they always seemed to get themselves into trouble. She knew most of this womans expressions by now. She could read her by the tone in her voice even. And that was probably the reason she was so nervous now, since the woman at the desk showed no expression or even the slightest hint of emotion in her voice.
But when she sat down and McGonagall finally looked at her, Hermione desperatly wished she hadn't. The elderly womans eyes where all but expressionless and the sudden warmth and sadness they showed struck such a cord in Hermiones heart she could have wept at the spot. McGonagall must have seen the change in the girls face since it took her less than a second to find her usual tone of calm and protective dicipline.
The sudden change bothered Hermione slightly, but she couldn't quite figure out why.
"I see you brought your books." McGonagall made a slight gesture to the books Hermione had tightly pressed against her chest.
"Uh, yes." Hermione still cursing herself for not being able to talk like a normal person in her professors precense.
"Let's get started then, shall we."
Hermione wasn't surprised when the lesson was a complete falure on her part. Her words got stuck in her troat and her wand movements where a total disaster.
"No, no, no." McGonagall had a patience worthy of a preeschoolteacher. They had been working for an hour now and yet her best student still couldn't master the basic wand movement. Hermione felt so stupid, but McGonagall reassured her every time.
"Look carefully this time." With an elegant gesture she voiced "Protean" and where there a second ago had been four copper chalices, there where now three and one very confused parrot. In another gracefull movement she'd turned the parrot back into a chalice.
"I know you can do this ms Granger," she was looking at her young pupil with confidence. But there was something else in her look as well. Hermione couldn't place it, but it made her head so very light that the task at hand seemed both impossible and so incredibly unimportant. They gazed at each other for a moment before McGonagall -as if startled by something- gained her focus and asked Hermione to try again.
She did. But her chalice was still a chalice, though now decorated with a few green feathers.
"I don't know what I'm doing wrong." Hermione said with a concern that was not at all directed at her failed attempt on the chalice. "It's not like I haven't done this before." She muttered, as McGonagall removed the feathers with a swift movement of her wand.
"It's not that strange that you should feel out of balance with everything that has happened this past year." The older womans voice was suddenly quite soft and warm.
"I'm not out of balance.." Hermione looked at her shoes. "I'm frustrat-" her voice was unable to finish the sentance as she looked up to find that McGonagall was standing just a bit too close. For a brief moment their eyes met and everything frose. McGonagall was the first to break the silence.
"It's you wand movement." She said, breaking their eyecontact but not the tention that had risen so fast between them. "Let me show you." She took Hermiones hand to help her follow through with her wand, but as she leaned closer Hermione couldn't help herself. Standing on her toes, se leaned in a bit too rough and she caught the professors lips in a hungry kiss. McGonagall tumbled back a bit by the impact, but neither of them broke the kiss. Instead it was returned, awkwardly at first, then with a passion so deep Hermione felt the floor vanish from under her feet. She'd caught her professor completely by surprise, yet there was no denying that her longing was returned. It was as if her body would burst with sensation as their tounges met and she could not hold back a slight moan. Then McGonagall backed away. Like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar McGonagall turned away from her.
"I'm sorry ms Granger, I don't know what got into me." She wouldn't look at her and Hermione could se her blush, but even worse, the sight that McGonagall was so desperatly hiding by turning away from her was the one that cut through her heart like a dagger. There where tears on her cheeks.
"Professor, I didn't mean to-" Hermione started, but her desperate attempt to explain was cut short.
"Let's just leave it at this for today." McGonagall still had her back turned but Hermione could se there where still tears falling down the professors cheek.
"Please, I'm-" but her protests where useless.
"Practice your wand movements untill next time." There was no defying the tone in her voice now. Hermione walked to the door, her wand hanging by her side and out of mere habit she remembered to pic up her books.
"Goodnight professor." Her voice was but a sad whisper as she gave McGonagall one last look. When there was no reply she walked out the door and closed it carefully behind her.
What had she done?