A written apology for all of you who are waiting for my longer story, Time to Heal, to update. Work is really busy right now and I've been shuffling some chapter sections around on my computer when I'm not walking my dog or reading. I've been having some problems fitting everything that I wanted to into it (it keeps on getting longer and longer!) and this is one of the things that got cut. It's a stand alone but I might expand it next year when I have more time (and when I've finally finished my present 'long' story).
J.
'So if what Cooper-Hillock proposes is true, it would mean that all previous theories on the origin of Summoning charms would be nullified…wouldn't they?'
'Possibly,' Professor McGonagall frowned, 'Stricken's Law would still hold and, with some minor alterations, so would the Boylwellyn Complex. '
It was late on a Friday night and Hermione was walking back along the halls to the Gryffindor common room with her teacher as an escort. She had been in Professor McGonagall's office working on some extra credit work for her sixth year class and had stayed a little later than planned. They were still discussing a new article that had recently been published in the Transfigurational Theories of Today.
'I really can't understand why they'd assume that it applies to all objects. A strict generalization limits their understan…OMPH!
Hermione's breath was pressed out of her lungs with a wicked push. The books she was carrying flew out of her arms and scattered across the floor in a rough circle around them.
It felt as if she'd walked in a wall. McGonagall caught her before she hit the flagstones.
'What in the world?' Hermione breathed out with a gasp, clutching at her empty-feeling chest.
Having the wind knocked out of you at nine o' clock at night in an empty hall was a strange occurrence even at Hogwarts.
McGonagall had drawn her wand in an instant, and with one hand still around Hermione's upper arm, muttered an spell, all the while looking around with narrowed eyes for a culprit. After a brief moment of searching, the magic she had cast evidently did its work and she jerked her head up to the pinnacle of the archway.
Hermione tilted her own head upwards to see what had drawn the McGonagall's attention.
Mistletoe.
'A Containment Spell,' McGonagall hissed under her breath, reaching out behind them to prove her point. Her hand bounced off an invisible wall some two feet behind them. 'If I find the person responsible they are going to be in detention for the next epoch…'
The squeaking of sneakers on stone made them turn as one. Harry Potter had just run up behind them, out of breath and panting.
A look of horror crossed his face once he saw them and in reflex, quickly glanced up at the almost hidden mistletoe.
Hermione narrowed her own eyes. If Harry had known that the plant was there, then he…
'Oh damn…I didn't mean…I thought you were with Ron, Hermione…'
'Potter,' McGonagall's voice was glacial, 'What in Heaven's name possessed you to place a sprig of enchanted mistletoe at this particular doorway?'
'I thought…'
'No, you didn't think, Potter – therein lies our problem. Have you no common sense?'
Through an enormous expenditure of willpower, Hermione restrained herself from yelling at her best friend and instead knelt down to pick up her scattered books. If Harry was lucky, he'd be known henceforth as The Boy Who Narrowly Escaped the Wrath of Minerva McGonagall and Hermione could have her turn shouting at him. If not…
'Potter. You have ten seconds to release us.' McGonagall's voice was now at its lowest register – an impressive feat – and trembling with ill-contained fury. 'If you do not complete that relatively simple task in the time allotted, I shall find a way out of here and your already endangered life shall come to an abrupt end.'
'You have to…to… kiss…each other.'
Harry looked like he'd rather be anywhere other then his present situation, and as he continued on, Hermione couldn't blame him for wanting to disappear.
'There's no counterspell…Weasely's Wizarding Wheezes product…Portable Containment Spell…it's the only way to be released.'
Hermione nearly dropped her books again. Stunned, she turned and looked up at the woman beside her. McGonagall had gone strangely stiff and her hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists. Hermione watched as a whole range of emotions flashed in her teacher's face before McGonagall shut her eyes, in all probability cursing the ingenuity of the Weasley twins and simultaneously racking her mind for another way to nullify the spell.
When her eyes opened again, McGonagall's expression was blank.
'Turn around, Potter,' she said quietly.
The wretched Harry reddened but quickly complied. McGonagall watched him carefully for a few moments before turning towards her trapped partner.
'Miss Granger?'
Oh Gods. This isn't happening.
McGonagall was wearing a half-frustrated, half-apologetic expression on her face as she looked at her student. Not quite sure about anything, Hermione let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and awkwardly shrugged the books in her arms to one hip.
Her throat felt oddly dry.
Tentatively, McGonagall bent down, tilted her head slightly to one side and hesitated briefly before brushing her parted lips softly against Hermione's. The kiss lasted only a mere second but Hermione's heartbeat thudded to a clumsy halt, only to speed up again with a crescendo as the impact of what had just occurred sunk in.
Straightening to her own impressive height, McGonagall reached out and felt for the invisible barrier that had been there moments before. The magic had vanished, her hand passed through the archway into the next hall. With this newly-won freedom, she turned back to Harry, who had turned once it had become evident that the act necessary for freedom had been completed, and pinned him with a look. He nervously backed up several steps.
'Detention, Potter. Tomorrow. Seven o'clock. I dare you to be late.'
Every syllable was clipped to a point.
As it was, Harry had such an absurd look of relief on his face that McGonagall hadn't carried out her earlier threat that Hermione would have laughed had the situation not been so serious. Or personal.
'Hermione?'
She looked up, still in a haze of emotional incomprehension. McGonagall's voice was soft, and a wisp of her dark hair had fallen out of the carefully-pinned bun.
Hermione felt her cheeks flush and didn't dare meet the woman's eyes, instead focusing on the collar of her blouse.
'G…goodnight, Professor.'
McGonagall opened her mouth to say something else and then, seconds later, closed it without a sound. With one final look at Hermione, concern visible in her elegant features, she turned on her heel and walked down the adjoining hall, shoes tapping faintly into the distance. Balancing her books back into her arms, Hermione quickly strode down the hall opposite it, bound for the Gryffindor Common Room. After staring at McGonagall's retreating form for a few moments, a still slightly dumbstruck Harry ran to catch up with Hermione. He began to apologize as soon as he matched her footsteps with his own.
'Hermione…I'm so sorry. I thought if I could just get you and Ron to kiss, you'd make it up and things could be back to normal again. I didn't think to check as to whether you were with someone else. I found Ron in the common room five minutes ago and I realized that you were with McGonagall. I ran here as fast as I could but…'
'It's alright, Harry.' Hermione looked behind her at the archway where the unexpected encounter had taken place just minutes before. Harry was too preoccupied with his fortuitous escape to notice.
'God. It's lucky you weren't walking with Snape…I can't imagine…'
The enchanted mistletoe had disappeared along with the barrier.
The faint taste of ginger lingered.