Chapter Four

Hermione was waiting for her in what was now their quarters when Minerva returned from Malfoy Manor. The older woman sighed as she closed the door behind her, for the hundredth time that day wondering what in Merlin's name she had gotten herself into. A wife more than half her age? A pregnant one at that? Who was technically still her student? That didn't even take into account the fact that Hermione was a social icon of the wizarding world, and tongues were sure as hell to wag when this got out. It didn't matter that they were clearly attracted to one another, just as much as it ultimately didn't matter how dreadful the public fallout was. Handfasts could not be undone. Things were what they were. The best they could hope for was to hide this for a few more months until her young wife graduated.

"We're not going to be able to hide this until I graduate," Hermione said in greeting.

Minerva groaned. It was like the younger witch could read her mind and had set out to rip whatever sense of hope for peace and quiet she had left out from under her. "Why ever not?" she demanded crisply.

"Because if I take the potions to stabilise my magical core, it will effectively abort this pregnancy," Hermione replied calmly. "Alternately, if I continue casting spells without taking the potions, every use of magic is a risk it'll be the last time I do. I've been lucky thus far, and I suppose I could just keep taking the risk, but Poppy thinks that with the pregnancy adding to the jumbling of my magical energy, I'm just asking to have my magical core implode. So, either I take the potions and don't have this child, but graduate with my class, or I have this child and delay graduating until after the pregnancy. I could technically go through with the pregnancy but not admit to having married you…"

"I'd not allow that," Minerva cut her off.

The Wizarding World was backward in a number of ways. Its mindset regarding bastard children was one. If Hermione had this child outside of the confines of a public marriage, it would be considered a bastard, and its inheritance rights would be minimal. Given that this child was the last Malfoy, it had more rights as a Malfoy bastard than a bastard typically would, but that was not the norm by any stretch. If Minerva and Hermione had other children down the road, but this child was not born within the confines of their publicly acknowledged marriage, it would have less rights than their siblings despite being the first born. Minerva didn't want that for the child, even if it wasn't her biological offspring. She would be his or her parent in every way that mattered.

"Then if I'm to carry on with this pregnancy and cannot use magic for the next nine months," Hermione said, "I cannot see a way for me to explain things to anyone, even for the next two months. Why am I not sleeping in dorms? Why can't I use magic? Why am I having tea with Minerva McGonagall at eight in the bloody evening? Seriously, how am I to explain anything?"

Minerva put her hands up in defeat. "Alright, alright. You win. It is Friday though. Can we at least take tomorrow to perhaps go away together and just… wrap our heads around things? Then we can each spend Sunday telling who we feel the need to personally inform before all hell hits the fan Monday morning? Merlin knows the Great Hall will be buzzing by breakfast if Ginny Weasley has anything to do about it. I know the girl means well, but she gets more and more like her mother as the years go on…"

Her younger wife smirked a little at that. "She does, although she hates being called out on her tendency to gossip. Ginny is always sure she's sharing important information, and only to those who absolutely must know. She just doesn't account for the fact that those she tells will tell five other people, and it blows up from there. Molly is the same way. I figure I'll tell her last to ensure Harry and Ron find out directly from me."

"Probably wise," Minerva agreed.

"So, how did it go with Narcissa?" Hermione finally dared to ask. "Is she ready to beat the baby out of the Mudblood?"

Minerva hurt at the false bravado in Hermione's voice, knowing damn well the younger witch was scared of the answer. She'd heard, second hand, that something bad had happened to the trio of friends at Malfoy Manor, but she didn't know what. She also knew it took a lot to scare the bright young woman in front of her. The fact that Narcissa had been willing to burn the Manor to the ground in order to gain Hermione's favour was extremely worrying, and before this conversation went further, Minerva felt it was time she learned some things about her wife's past.

"What happened to you there, Hermione?" she asked softly.

Doubt flickered in Hermione's eyes, as she crossed her arms across her body defensively. "What does it matter, Minerva? It was war."

"Narcissa responded positively," Minerva shared. "She was pleased at the notion of being a grandmother, even under such circumstances, and asked if there was a possibility of being a part of this child's life. I told her that ultimately that was going to be up to you, but frankly Hermione, you are far more forgiving in nature than I am so before even contemplating the notion of allowing her access to our child, I want to know why the thought of the Malfoys runs your blood cold."

Hermione's eyes softened a bit. "Narcissa didn't do a thing," she said after a moment. "That, perhaps, was her one fault. She didn't do a thing. She watched on. Draco did much the same. If I was able to make my peace with him over it, I can likely make my peace with her. Not in the same way."

Minerva smirked. "I should hope not. I take that whole forsaking all others clause rather seriously."

"I figured," Hermione said.

"Dare I ask what they watched?" Minerva pressed. "And whom? Did Lucius…?"

Her wife scoffed. "Lucius would have been kinder. Lucius was so broken by that point in the war, he didn't have the strength to be that vicious. He, too, watched on, as I was tortured and mutilated by Bellatrix Lestrange. That is why my blood runs cold at the thought of Malfoy Manor. Not the Malfoys. They don't frighten me at all. That Manor though… I didn't nearly lose my life there. I nearly lost my sanity."

Minerva's eyes widened in horror as Hermione lifted a number of glamour charms, and stripped off her shirt. One, on her forearm, covered the word mudblood, which looked to have been carved into the skin with a cursed knife. Her back was marred with hundreds of small burn marks, like someone had put cigarettes out on her skin repeatedly. On top of those were what looked like healing lashes. On the left side of Hermione's neck was what was clearly a large snake bite, and the flesh around the wound seemed to have melted. Minerva couldn't help but touch it. "What the hell…"

"Nagini," Hermione replied softly.

"How in Merlin's name are you alive?"

"There was an antidote," she said. "I was given it. Bellatrix didn't want to kill me. She wanted to destroy me."

"It's a shame that wasn't available for Severus," Minerva mused.

Hermione reapplied her glamours and put her shirt back on, and Minerva noticed rather quickly that her young wife was not meeting her gaze anymore. She cleared her throat.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to, Minerva."

"Hermione, I would really prefer to not be in a marriage that has a foundation of mistrust, or worse, outright lies," she replied. "I don't want secrets between us. I know there's a lot to catch up on, on both sides, but whatever you're keeping a secret about regarding Severus is clearly on the table so…"

The brunette shifted her feet. "Did you know that Professor Snape makes us all test for blood type at the start of OWL year? There's a number of potions that require a blood component, and he says that's why he does it, but honestly I think he does it just so it's in Poppy's records in case we mess up so badly we need a transfusion. Blood replenishing potion has to have an RH factor if you need more than one dose. That's NEWT level Potions, of course."

Minerva just stared. "Go on. Still waiting for you to make a point."

"Well, I have A- blood type," Hermione said, offering a smug smile. "As it happens, so does Professor Snape. I was the only one in the class who shared his blood type. He used to, every time somebody cut themselves, snap, 'Only Miss Granger is allowed to bleed on me, and only if I require a transfusion,' as a rebuke and it so annoyed me at the time, but the night of the battle, well… me and Ron and Harry were there. When he was attacked by Nagini."

"I'm sorry you had to see that, but I still don't understand…" Minerva was growing frustrated with story time.

"I had been given the antidote less than a week before!" Hermione exclaimed. "It was still fresh in my veins. Since we shared a blood type, it was easy to do a transfusion. As soon as I could dodge the boys, I doubled back, did the transfusion, stabilised him, and then hid him in a dark corner of the castle I knew nobody would ever look, at least for a while."

"Are you telling me that Severus is alive?" Minerva all but fell over at the confession.

"Alive, although in a coma," Hermione confirmed. "My blood prevented his death, and I've been working all year to try to duplicate the full antivenin I was given to completely purge his system, but it's slow work considering Nagini was killed in the battle and her body turned to dust. I had to use markers from mine and Snape's blood, in what little spare time I have."

"Where the hell have you been hiding him? Where have you been working?" Minerva demanded.

"His quarters, and his personal lab," Hermione smirked. "I know you, Minerva. I knew you'd be the next Head of Hogwarts, and I knew you'd blow off going through his personal things for as long as you could manage to justify it. You'd fix every inch of Hogwarts and call that the priority before you could face the emotional task of going through Severus Snape's personal property. It was the only sensible place to hide him."

"Why didn't you get help?" Minerva asked, trying not to be affronted by how well her wife knew her.

Hermione scoffed, looking angry. "Hearing the likes of Poppy, or Arthur, or other people who mean well talk about how it was best that Snape was dead sort of turned me off of the notion. They all seemed to think that while dead he could be seen for the hero he really was, alive he'd have been nothing but a liability that the Order would have needed to deal with. Bugger that! I know what people do with liabilities. They shove them into St. Mungo's and do nothing to help their condition improve. Snape deserves better, so he's staying put until I can find a way to fix him."

"Fine," Minerva agreed.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, looking started. "Fine? No protesting? No trying to talk me out of it? No demanding we bring in a professional mediwitch to look him over, because I can't possibly know what I'm doing, especially now that I can't do magic at all?"

"I was thinking less of a mediwitch and more of a Potions Master," the Scottish witch mused. "And honestly Hermione, when has arguing with you done me any good whatsoever? I tell you not to go after the Philosopher's Stone, you do it anyway. Not to go looking for the Chamber of Secrets? You get yourself Petrified by the monster within. Not to try to go poking around in Professor Lupin's personal affairs? You nearly get mauled by a werewolf. Et cetera, et cetera. After all these years, I bloody well give up!"

Hermione grinned widely. "Robert?"

Minerva let out a sigh. "We're not going away tomorrow are we?"

Her wife shook her head in the negative.

"I'll send him an Owl and ask him to come by after breakfast," Minerva gave in.

Hermione walked up to her with a pleased look on her face and wrapped her hands around Minerva's neck. "Hold on. I don't have to use magic to kiss you…"

With that, Minerva sank into Hermione's lips, savouring the sensation. Beltane had been special, and most of it had come back to her by now, but she still held some doubts regarding the chemistry between her and the young woman in her arms now given the intoxication on both of their parts the night before. She'd not allow things to progress to sex tonight - she wasn't ready for that yet - but right now, she couldn't deny that kissing Hermione felt just as right in this moment as it had the night before, and she couldn't explain that away by intoxication.

Hermione awoke on Saturday morning with Minerva wrapped around her. Unlike yesterday, they were both dressed in pyjamas. This had been at her wife's insistence, and while Hermione thought it was a bit like closing the gate after the hippogriff had left the stable, she'd decided to let her wife have the argument. It wasn't like she desperately needed to have sex, even if kissing Minerva had certainly left her aroused. If Minerva needed to take things slow for a while, and adapt to the idea of being married, then Hermione could give her that time.

"Morning…" Minerva murmured, kissing the side of her jawbone.

"Good morning," Hermione responded, pulling her wife tighter against her body. "When is Robert due?"

"He's due at nine," the older witch replied groggily, "however Robert likes to be an arse and show up early, so we best be ready by half eight."

"I knew there was a reason I liked him," Hermione giggled.

"No…" Minerva grumbled. "Don't tell me you're a morning person too…"

"Afraid so, sweetie," she admitted. "Always have been. My parents stopped setting alarm clocks by the time I was four. They rightly assumed I'd wake them up at least a half hour before they really needed to be getting up for work anyhow."

"I'll have to ask Narcissa if Draco was a morning person," Minerva groaned. "See what my chances of ever sleeping in again are."

"Slim," Hermione confided. "Draco and I used to run into one another in the Library before breakfast all the time. We were both top of our class for a reason."

"Fuck," the older witch pouted. "At least I can hope for any children we have, after this one, to take after me."

"Plan to keep me barefoot and pregnant forever?" the brunette teased, sitting up.

"Only until I get a child who is not a morning person," Minerva decided, also sitting up, albeit slower. "Or Robert decides the McGonagalls have done their part to repopulate the wizarding world. You'll have to take it up with him."

"He'll want male heirs then, I trust," Hermione mused.

Minerva shrugged. "I don't think that's on his mind so much as the stories passed down. Robert is less concerned with the McGonagall name surviving so much as the legacy of the family. He does not want to be forgotten. Who we were. What we fought for. What some of us died for."

"What Malcolm died for," Hermione suddenly understood.

"Yes," Minerva confirmed. "Our child need not carry the McGonagall name, nor even the McGonagall blood to do that, Hermione. Even if the only child we ever have is the one you carry right now, that would be enough. It would be a child to pass down the story of a family who was almost brought to extinction by a Dark Lord, but through an incredible twist of fate, wasn't."

"Minerva, I think you and I can do better than enough," Hermione said softly. "I have this baby, then take those potions, and after that there's nothing stopping me from continuing my education and working while continuing on with further pregnancies. I don't have to halt my whole life just to build a family with you."

"One baby at a time, my dear," the older woman said, pressing a kiss to her wife's lips.

The two got up and dressed, and then hurried through a quick breakfast before, as Minerva had anticipated, Robert arrived at just past eight thirty. He hugged his sister and kissed her cheek, offering a smug remark about how she was glowing, and then offered his new sister-in-law a brief hug as well.

"So, what's new with you two?" he asked. "Knocked up yet?"

Hermione almost spit her tea out of her nose. "Merlin, Robert, just go for the jugular."

"I'm motivated, what can I say?" he smirked.

"To answer," Minerva replied, "yes and no."

"How can you be pregnant and not pregnant?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It was Beltane," Hermione said scathingly. "And prior to your so kindly binding me to your sister for the rest of our natural lives, I had a brief and meaningless encounter with a classmate who did the courtesy of impregnating me. Of course, the child is legally Minerva's. The child's biological father was among the casualties of the attack that night in any case, so his interests in the child are… minor."

Robert blinked, taking all of the information in. "Minor? How can a dead man's interests be anything but moot?"

"Drop that subject for now, Robert," Minerva interrupted. "The biological father is between Hermione and myself for the time being. It's not important, nor is it really what we wanted to discuss with you today. Trust me when I say you will be far more interested in the topic we had in mind."

Hermione watched as Robert shook his head in surprise. "I'm sorry, Minerva, but my interests have been pretty focused on the continuation of our family for a very long time, so how could I possibly be more interested in anything other than…"

Hermione also knew her wife well enough to know that she wouldn't have deflected the identity of her child's father if she didn't have a very good reason, so she opted to help Minerva out and give Robert a new bone to chew on. If Minerva had been right about Robert's interest in Severus Snape's welfare, the fact that he was still among the living would be a bone worth chasing. "Severus Snape is alive," she interrupted.

Robert stopped talking to his sister, head whipping around to face her. "Excuse me?"

"He's in a coma," she confided, "but he is alive."

"Is this a joke?" he asked, turning back to his sister.

Minerva snorted. "Really Robert, do you honestly think I'd joke about this? Hermione evidently saved his life during the battle and has been trying to heal him this last year, without help. She believes, and I don't think she is mistaken in her belief, that if the Order knew Severus was alive but in this condition, at best they'd throw him in St. Mungo's with no intention of trying to restore his health, and more likely, arrange for his condition to deteriorate. It is far better for the Order to have a dead hero than a living liability."

"They wouldn't dare outright kill him," Robert argued, appalled at the notion.

"Not if he was walking and talking," Minerva agreed. "However, that is not his present condition. While he is vulnerable, he is literally vulnerable to the Order doing the simplest thing to avoid a political maelstrom. Integrating a former Death Eater into polite society was a challenge for Albus when said Death Eater had done little in the public eye and most everything was rumour and hearsay. To accomplish that again, after the same Death Eater had been Head of Hogwarts during a reign of terror, where children were tortured? It won't matter that he never did any of the torturing himself. He watched and let it happen. He was Voldemort's right hand for all of the wizarding world to see during a very bloody war. Nobody will want him anywhere but Azkaban!"

"Despite the fact that they all call him a hero now?"

"As Minerva said, it is easy to call him a hero when he's dead," Hermione said softly. "When he's a figure of memory, a knight on a chessboard in a game that is over, it's a simple thing to look back and smile. However, when he walks down the street and a teenager sees the man who stood by while she was tortured under the Cruciatus curse… it isn't easy anymore. It isn't a memory. It's present, as if the war isn't over after all, and if the war isn't over, then how can he really be a hero?"

Robert sagged, realising they were right. "So what's the point of even fixing him? Heal Severus so that he can live a life of even more hatred?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, it would take talking both of you into it, of course, but you weren't cursed into sterility until the early eighties, so how is anyone to know if you happened to find a long lost son? There is an adoption potion which alters the adoptee's physical appearance, after all. If you're both amenable, then we heal Severus Snape, and we turn him into Severus McGonagall. It would surprise nobody at all that he was a Potions genius. You are his father after all."

"Changing his first name would probably be prudent as well," Robert said, raising an eyebrow. "However, your plan is actually quite solid otherwise. The only issue I can see is that once he wakes up from his coma, his Headmaster portrait will go dormant. That will be questioned."

"Conveniently, your sister is Headmistress," Hermione mused. "Just have her get upset about…something. Something potions related, perhaps."

Robert chuckled, and Hermione knew that he had caught on to what she was thinking. "Oh, I'm liking you more and more by the minute. Are you sure you're not a Slytherin?"

"You lot are rather fussy about letting Muggleborns in the club," she admonished.

"Right, that," he said. "We really need to fix that. I'm sure you'd have fit right in."

"I did not marry a Slytherin!" Minerva grouched.

"Perhaps not, but I'm feeling pretty good about my odds of a Slytherin niece or nephew," Robert grinned.

The older witch groaned.

Minerva never called staff meetings on the weekends, so it was no surprise that the whole of her staff looked edgy as they gathered directly after lunch on Saturday. Hermione and Robert were plotting - Merlin save her - after which Hermione was set to go talk to Harry and Ronald.

Merlin and the Founders save her.

Meanwhile, she was informing her staff of the development regarding her marriage to Hermione, the pregnancy, Hermione's previously undisclosed twin, and therefore her official withdrawal from further classes and exams until further notice.

"Have any of you looked over student rosters since Beltane?" Minerva inquired. "Save me the trouble of announcing?"

Pomona shamelessly giggled in her corner. "Nope," she said innocently.

"You can just shut it, Pomona Sprout," she snapped at her best friend. "I'm still mad at you."

Nobody, it seemed, had looked. Bugger. Pomona raised her hand. "Can I tell them?"

Minerva sat down in her chair. "Can I stop you?" she groaned.

The Head of Hufflepuff stood, grinning widely. "Our esteemed Headmistress got herself handfasted on Beltane," she said.

"To Hermione Granger," Poppy added helpfully.

The whole room erupted with chatter. She let them go on for about two minutes before she stood back up. "Alright, alright, that's enough. Thank you Pomona, and Poppy, for having so much fun at my expense. I wish I could say that this was the end of the announcements and walk out of here with what little dignity I have left at the moment, however I don't have that luxury. Hermione did not share, upon her entry to Hogwarts, that she lost a twin brother at the age of eight. As such she was never treated for the Geminae Mortae Syndrome. Clearly, she is well beyond needing treatment now, and cannot participate in classes or exams until such time as she gets that treatment."

All of the teachers nodded in agreement, even Slughorn, who tended to have next to no concern over the health of his students. On the other hand, he was a Potions Master, and this treatment did involve a potion.

"Hermione also fell pregnant the night of Beltane," Minerva confided. "Please keep this to yourselves. For the love of Merlin, until you hear the students chattering freely about it in the Great Hall, likely by Monday afternoon, please keep all of this to yourselves. If you don't know your potions, this means that until she delivers, Hermione cannot take the potions to stabilise her core. She'll have to live mostly muggle for the next nine months."

"Blimey," Hagrid uttered. "Poor Hermione. Do Ron an' Harry know about all this yet?"

"She plans to talk to them this afternoon," Minerva replied. "Again, please keep this all to yourselves for now. We both have people we want to talk to privately before the news of our marriage, and of the pregnancy, is on the front page of the bloody Prophet. Merlin knows it is likely to end up there."

"Have you and Hermione been…involved for some time?" Filius was bold enough to ask.

She cringed at the question, but knew that he wouldn't be the last to ask. "Beltane was the first we'd ever engaged one another in any manner other than as student and teacher, Filius. I'm not saying that we both weren't nursing something of an attraction, but we had also both dismissed that attraction as unlikely to come to fruition and not allowed it to fester into anything more than a fleeting thought. It turns out a matchmaking friend and a brother keen to get you married, combined with intoxication on Beltane can yield rather permanent entanglements."

"Are you unhappy with your new marriage, Minerva?" Filius inquired.

She shook her head. "Far from it, to be perfectly honest. Just still in shock and trying to wrap my head around the concept. It's a great deal to adapt to in a short period of time. I ask all of you to bear with me in the next few weeks. I think that Hermione and I have a good shot at a happy life together, however as you all know very well I am a stubborn mule who is hard pressed to accept change, and here I am thrust into a bucket full of it. The Astronomy Tower looks very friendly at moments."

"That's still not funny," Rolanda muttered. "Especially when a Head says it."

Several staff members nodded in agreement. Minerva just sighed and wondered when they were going to stop letting moments define how they saw a place. If she let certain moments colour how she saw things, she'd have run screaming from Hogwarts years ago. How could they forget a thousand beautiful sunsets, or watching a dozen couples share their first kisses on that tower, in favour of remembering the one night somebody died? Suddenly, Minerva wanted nothing more than to arrange a date with Hermione on that damn tower. If nothing else, she was quite gifted at proving a bloody point.

"So," Hermione said as she and the boys sat down together at the Three Broomsticks. "Either of you get impulsively handfasted on Beltane?"

They both laughed, clearly thinking she was joking and not setting them up for her own announcement. Harry answered first. "Not a chance, 'Mione," he said. "I had Ginny glued to my arse all night long, and we both stayed sober."

"She wants her dream wedding, she does," Ron added, thoughtful. "Handfasting is great and all, if it's part of a big wedding ceremony, but on Beltane? Who even does that? I mean, I certainly got wasted, but not that wasted."

Hermione blushed. "I might have gotten that wasted. Actually, the sad part is I wasn't that wasted. A bit inebriated, sure, but not out of my mind completely. I certainly remember everything about, you know…"

They were staring at her in complete shock. "... getting handfasted," she finished.

"You're joking!" Ron exclaimed. "You must be joking!"

"Really not," Hermione shrugged. "Also, I'm pregnant."

Harry nearly fell out of his chair. "But…but… er…"

"Bloody hell…" Ron said, running his hand through his hair. "Any other bombs you want to drop today, 'Mione."

"Yes, but they take more explaining and I feel like I should let you digest for a moment. You haven't even asked who I've married," she mused. "Who, for the record, isn't even the same person who fathered my child. My life got exceptionally complicated over the course of a single night. I officially repent of my desire to be a reckless teenager."

Harry smirked at that, having been the one to have lectured her when she'd been telling him off for sacrificing his childhood in its entirety to duty and the cause and all that rot. He'd told her that they were too old to play at being kids anymore, and saying it wasn't fair didn't change that they'd already lost their childhood. He'd gone and told her so well and proper. "So what freckly git knocked you up?" he asked.

She sighed. "I preface this by saying that when we hooked up we both agreed point blank it was a one off. Neither of us were pining, or wanting anything more than a bit of fun on Beltane. So please don't give me a hard time. It's difficult enough knowing my child will never know their father."

To her surprise, Ron got it immediately. "Oh, 'Mione, you didn't shag…"

"Yes, I did in fact, enjoy a singular shag with Draco Malfoy," she snapped.

Harry winced. "I'm sorry. Is your husband okay with raising his kid?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "My wife. And yes, she is."

The boys both did a double take. It wasn't as if they'd not seen her around with girls. Hermione suspected that they just thought it was an experimental thing, and that she'd not actually settle down with a woman. Bummer for them. She had a wife.

"Didn't see that coming," Ron admitted. "Cool with it though, of course. If you're happy, I mean. Who's the lucky lady?"

"Harry might want to hold onto his chair," Hermione teased.

The dark haired young man rolled his eyes. "Come on, what's going to top the fact of you being pregnant by Draco Malfoy? I don't think you're going to shock me again."

Ron laughed at Harry's expense, picking up his butterbeer.

"I married Minerva McGonagall," she smirked.

The butterbeer in the redhead's hand dropped to the table, spilling everywhere. The boys both pulled out their wands and cleaned up themselves. "You've got to be joking," Harry muttered. "McGonagall?"

"Do one of you mind cleaning me up as well?" she asked, shirt wet.

"Clean yourself up!" Ron snapped, annoyed at her for shocking him again.

"I can't!" she shot back, her frustration over her inability to do magic growing with every day. "I'm not allowed to use magic until after I have this baby."

They both stopped moving for a moment, and then Harry quietly cast a cleaning charm. "Why?" he asked softly.

She sighed. "Didn't you guys wonder why George and I got so close after the battle?"

"Sure I did," Ron admitted. "Honestly though, George was closed off to almost everyone, even family, and it seemed shitty to kick up a fuss over him opening up to somebody, even if it made me a little jealous. Harry and I wondered if you two were dating. I'm guessing not at this point."

Hermione scoffed. "You weren't the only ones to guess that. Minerva thought so, too. I guess it made sense that people would think that, but no. We connected in the way siblings do. Like twins do. Boys, I wasn't always an only child. I had a brother for the first eight years of my life; a twin brother. George and I grew close because we both knew what it was to have your other half ripped away."

"Merlin, 'Mione," Harry breathed. "Why did you never say?"

"Nicolas was mine," she said softly. "Mine. All I had left of him was the memory of him, and I didn't want to share that. Stupid in retrospect, because I didn't understand the magical implications."

"No shite," Ron agreed.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"If a magical twin dies, it makes the living twin's core unstable. You have to take a bunch of potions to fix the damage. George said that they were gross," the redhead provided.

"What George didn't know was that the longer it goes untreated, the more damage occurs," Hermione added. "Further, there is an increased risk that something as simple as casting a cleaning charm will cause your magical core to implode."

"So that's why you can't use magic right now?" Harry asked. "Because you are still taking the potions?"

"No," Hermione said. "If I was on the potions, my core would already be stabilising and I'd be okay for low level casting. I can't cast because I'm not taking the potions. The potions would kill my baby, so I can't take them until after the baby is born."

"And therefore, no magic until after the baby is born," Harry concluded, understanding. "Wow. That sucks."

"Any more mind blowing news?" Ron wanted to know.

"I think that's it," she replied. "Except to say that my ending up with Minerva was partially due to the fact that the Head of Hufflepuff was playing matchmaker."

Harry nodded. "That tracks. I've heard a lot about students being pushed together by her. Seems like she's got an eye for it."

"How was I not aware of that?" Hermione asked, stamping her foot.

"You're not dating Ginny Weasley," he deadpanned. "The gossip of Hogwarts is part of my weekly routine. Just don't tell her I called it gossip."

"Now Hermione's part of the gossip," Ron grinned. "Wait till you tell Ginny about this. He can, right?"

"Yeah, Minerva and I figured that if I told you guys, Harry would tell Ginny, and Ginny would assure the rest of Hogwarts knew by Monday morning," Hermione admitted. "You can tell her about the marriage, and the baby, and the fact that I'm dropping out of school. Please don't tell her that the baby isn't Minerva's, or why I'm dropping out. Let people assume I'm dropping out simply because of the pregnancy. I don't want everyone to know I can't use magic…"

"Nobody needs to be aware you can't defend yourself, you mean," Ron agreed. "Though I pity the idiot who tries to attack you with McGonagall watching your back. I mean really, who'd be that thick…"

"I sort of love the fact that Professor McGonagall sanctioned her marriage announcement to be spread by way of the Hogwarts gossip mill," Harry confessed. "I feel like Sirius would have found it funny."

All three of them laughed in agreement. All was well.

I really do have a problem. I try to let Severus stay dead and then my muse says "that's cute. Plot twist!" I may write for the HGMM ship, but Severus Snape will forever be my favorite Harry Potter character. PLEASE REVIEW!