Disclaimers: See chapter 1.
~x~
Kingsley stopped pacing. Glancing at Hermione, he sighed. "It's really good to see you. You've turned into a beautiful woman, Hermione."
Hermione grinned up at him from her place between Harry and George. "Thank you, Royal. I hear the Ministry is continuing to do well under your leadership."
Kingsley preened a little, puffing out his chest before he sat down. "We've made great progress over the past few years, and changing some of the more archaic laws and people's perspectives on the old prejudices."
"That's good to hear," Hermione stated.
"I would like you to reconsider your stance over the memory of what happened," Kingsley told her. "No crime should ever go unpunished and this one, in particular."
"Why?" Hermione asked.
"Because no matter what, you did not deserve that," Kingsley stated. "To prove you are far stronger than he ever imagined you could be. Because you survived. He should face justice for what he did to you"
"I don't know, Kingsley," Hermione admitted. "People will look at me differently once this is out there. They'll treat me like a victim or judge me for not reporting it before, right after it happened."
"They're probably already judging you, lass," Minerva interjected. "Especially after the Prophet. But tell me, what do you care of anyone else's opinion other than those in this room with you now?"
"What about Izzy?" Hermione shrank back and lowered her eyes.
"Don't you want your daughter to know she's safe in this world, and that abuse won't be tolerated?" Angelina asked softly.
"I know that's what I'd like for Rox. I don't want her to feel powerless and fear that should anything happen, she won't be protected with the full force of the law. And I want my son to know there are consequences for certain actions."
"There's bound to be retaliation," Hermione whispered. "The Weasleys are well-respected within the wizarding community."
"My sweetling, do you seriously think that's going to change?" George asked, shaking his head. "We'll keep our reputation by doing the right thing, which is standing by you, and not that git."
"Do you want my opinion, Granger?" Draco questioned.
Hermione shrugged. "I suppose you'll give it to me whether I want it or not, Malfoy."
"Ron Weasley is, and always has been an obnoxious arse." Draco drawled. "You're better than him, and he deserves whatever happens to him after what he's done. It is your decision though."
Hermione leaned back slightly into Harry and sighed. "Okay." She agreed. "But I have conditions, Kingsley. The memory should only be shown to those who need to see it, and I don't want Harry involved more than he already is."
"That's fine. I'll head to the Ministry and organise for the Magical Law Enforcement Squad to take Ronald into custody." Kingsley stated. "I'll send the on-duty Hit Wizard with them."
With a crack, three crystal phials appeared on the coffee table. "Thank you, Effie," Hermione called out. Taking her wand, she pointed it at her temple and with a frown, pulled the silvery-white strand away until it hung from her wand tip.
Standing, Minerva passed her one of the phials with a sad smile. "Here, lass."
"Susan Bones will be stunned by this?" Harry muttered.
"What's Susan got to do with it?" Hermione asked as the memory floated into the phial and she put the stopper in.
"She has been following in her aunt's footsteps by joining the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Amelia would be so proud." Minerva explained.
"She's the on-duty Hit Witch this weekend," Harry advised. "She became rather adept at martial magic, and often says joining the D.A helped with her confidence," Harry told them.
"Oh, well that's good." Hermione offered lamely when both Harry and Angelina stood and extracted their memories of that afternoon.
Kingsley picked up the phials and pocketed them quickly. "I'll be off then. I'll let you know what's what when I have an update. Probably tomorrow morning." He waved and swept from the room.
"So I know Neville is at Hogwarts now, but what of Seamus, Dean and Luna?"
"Seamus and Dean finally worked out they're meant to be together. They got married last year and moved to Ireland." Harry grinned and sat back down. "Seamus is a Quidditch commentator and Dean illustrates magical children's books and has his own comic."
"Luna has become rather famous as a Magizoologist, travelling the world in search of her unusual magical creatures. She's been rather adept." Minerva replied. "There was some talk that she was dating the grandson of Newt Scamander last year, but I don't know how true that is."
"Oh, that's wonderful." Hermione chuckled. "I'm so pleased they're doing well for themselves." She glanced at George. "And what of Bill, Charlie and Percy?"
"Perce is still at the Ministry, he's head of the Department of Magical Transportation. He married a witch called Audrey a couple of years back and has two small daughters." George replied. "Bill and Fleur still work and Gringotts and live at Shell Cottage with their crotch-goblins. They have two girls and a boy. Their eldest girl, Victoire is heading to Hogwarts this year too."
"Charlie is still single and works in a dragon sanctuary just north of here." Angelina laughed. 'He says he prefers his dragons to most people."
"I can see why he'd think that some days." Hermione laughed, but when her stomach growled, she blushed and ducked her head.
"What is it, lass? Minerva asked.
"Dinner?" Hermione glanced up hopefully.
"Are you all staying?" Minerva asked, looking at the group of Gryffindors lounging on her hearth rug. Greeted with forceful nods, she turned to the only Slytherin in the room. "And you, Mr Malfoy?
"Oh, as long as it's not an imposition?" Draco muttered.
Minerva inhaled. "Not at all. I'm sure Effie is already rustling up enough food for an army, and if I'm not mistaken, she has the children baking shortbread."
"So tell me, Malfoy. What's been happening in your life? How's your mum?" Hermione turned her attention to the blonde man.
Draco blushed when everyone looked at him. "Well, I've been working with the Wizengamot and married Astoria Greengrass. We have a boy, Scorpius, who's about the same age as Potter's lad, Albus." He shrugged. "Mother is doing well. She, Astoria and Scorpius are having dinner with Andromeda and Teddy."
"What's Teddy like? Is he like Tonks or Lupin? What house was he sorted into?" Hermione fired off the questions quickly.
'He's going to be as tall as his dad, but fortunately, there's no sign of him becoming a werewolf." Draco told her.
"His hair's turquoise at the moment. Merlin only knows what colour it'll be by 1st September." Harry grinned.
"His hair was bright pink for the majority of last year," Minerva explained. "I must say, it clashed quote horrendously with the yellow and black of Hufflepuff."
~x~
Isobel spent the better part of the evening giggling at Malfoy and Harry's one-upmanship as they went out of the way to tell her the tallest tales imaginable, all of which she'd been advised to take with a pinch of salt. Along with George performing random Muggle magic tricks for her over dinner, there'd been a lot of laughter and Minerva couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed an evening so much.
Bedtime for the smaller children came about quickly after their hearty supper of beef stew and fluffy dumplings and when Malfoy announced it was time for him to leave, she saw Isobel follow the older wizard to the front door and overheard her asking if she could keep in touch with him. Ruffling her hair, Malfoy gave her a genuine smile and agreed.
Heading upstairs with George, Angelina and their children, Minerva transfigured various bits of furniture in Isobel's room into beds for Fred and Roxanne while George and Angelina pulled their clothes off and got them into their pyjamas. Once done casting spells, she left George and Angelina to tuck the children into bed.
When she returned to the sitting room, Hermione was next to Harry on the sofa and they were catching up on the years they'd missed. Hermione listened while Harry spoke of his children and the life he'd made for himself, working his way through the Auror Office until he became the head of the Department a few years before. Frankly, Harry looked bone-weary and Minerva felt a pang of sorrow for him, knowing Ginny, no doubt with Molly's assistance, would be spiteful.
Pouring herself a small Firewhiskey, she soon found herself sitting in her favourite armchair and settled back into the comfort it provided. She considered the two young people opposite her as Hermione began to tell Harry how she'd left her parents and started working her way across Australia until she had enough money for her airfare back to England plus some savings for a deposit on a flat. By the time she returned, she'd only just managed to acquire a small bedsit in a converted schoolhouse in Leeds when Isobel decided to make her early appearance.
When George and Angelina returned, telling them Isobel had decided to read in the library before bed, they all listened to Hermione describe Isobel's birth, two months early, the fact she weighed just over 3lb and was rushed away to a temperature-controlled incubator due to low oxygen levels and breathing difficulties. She'd been given oxygen to help with her breathing and the Muggle doctors had talked of potential long-term issues if she survived, such as hearing and learning difficulties and even heart problems.
During every single one of Isobel's development milestones, Hermione revealed how she had found herself growing ever more proud of her daughter's determination and strength, and the gratitude she felt when by the time she turned three, despite still being small for her age, she'd been given a clean bill of health. It was shortly after this that they moved to Manchester.
Minerva was delighted there were no lingering effects from Isobel's premature birth and also thankful. She couldn't fathom what would have happened if Hermione had also lost their daughter after all the other losses she'd sustained.
Sinking deep in thought, she marvelled at her mate's courage in the face of such life-altering events; from being told she was a witch, initially being dismissed as a know-it-all, eventually making friends and excelling at school, showing a passion for her studies, only to be thrust into a war where she felt she had no choice but to send her parents away for their safety, spent almost a year on the run, was declared an undesirable because she was a Muggle-born, was caught and tortured at the hands of a maniac and had to fight in a vicious battle that saw too many witches and wizards dying. Then, with an innate strength, Hermione returned to her life, taking the time she needed to heal. She'd finished her education and experienced love.
In all honesty, she'd taken an immediate shine to Hermione Granger on their first meeting when she arrived at the Granger residence as part of her pastoral duties, with the invitation to attend Hogwarts, but what had cemented things was her successful transfiguration of a match into a needle during her first lesson, before any other student. She'd been unable to stop herself from offering up a rare smile, simply because she'd seen a little of herself in the young bushy-haired witch, as someone naturally inquisitive and academic. Over time, she'd learnt that they had much in common, including the fact they'd both been considered for Ravenclaw before being sorted into Gryffindor.
Over the years she'd continued to see something truly special in the young Gryffindor witch and as she watched her mature into a stunning young woman, she'd told herself that she wanted nothing more than to be a role model for her, a maternal figure in the magical world. It was only when she'd inhaled and had been greeted by the intoxicating scent of the witch a few weeks after terms started Hermione's sixth year that she'd learnt what she felt for the young woman was far from maternal. Hermione smelled of all of her favourite things, like a vial of the most potent Amortentia. She'd told herself it was ridiculous and had fought against the connection with every fibre of her being, trying to convince herself that what she felt was bound to be one-sided and that they were simply kindred spirits.
She'd suffered from her denial of their bond and after her cubs had gone on the run in their seventh year, she'd found herself missing the brunette and listening to Potterwatch religiously each evening. It was during that time she began to unconsciously accept her feelings after learning that it was far more than some mild attraction. Hermione was her soul mate. It was during the final battle, upon discovering Hermione had come out unscathed, that she wholeheartedly accepted the connection.
They'd grown closer on Hermione's return to finish her seventh year, even as she tried her best to keep her at arm's length and not cross all boundaries by showing the young woman her improper feelings. She told herself she would give the younger witch time to find her feet and decide what she wanted to do.
Minerva swallowed deeply at her memories of the single night she'd spent with the lovely young witch on the night of her graduation. She recollected how they took their time to undress, the way they touched one another, initially hesitant, the way her fingers trailed over Hermione's body, worshipping every inch until goosebumps rose over her flushed skin. She easily remembered how her own body had reacted to Hermione's caresses, of how her name had fallen from her lips, no longer just Ms Granger or Hermione, but her lass. Before she'd realised what was happening, her Animagus had come to the fore and claimed the brunette as her mate, binding them together.
Minerva could understand how the betrayal of trust at the hands of her one-time friend the following day, someone she loved like a brother, had finally broken the young witch and caused her to run. No matter how much she wished Hermione had returned to her and had allowed her to help her overcome the events, she now recognised, from her words that afternoon, that she'd been left feeling unworthy and no doubt wondering why she'd given up her life, with parents who adored her, for a world she believed would never truly accept her.
Jolted from her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly, Minerva gazed up at the brunette. "What is it, lass?" She questioned.
"George and Angie are ready for bed and Harry looks dead on his feet. Where do you plan to put them?" Hermione told her.
"Honestly, I hadn't thought about it." Minerva frowned, considering her options. Although there were six bedrooms in the Manse, only four bedrooms were prepared for use, one of them her own and one being used by the sleeping children. No amount of magic could prepare a room quickly enough for use, and it wasn't like she could just expand the house to create a new room. The Manse wasn't Hogwarts after all.
Tilting her head, she glanced at the others and noticed their eyes drooping and yawns hidden behind their hands.
"I'd be happy to sleep right here." Harry offered, patting the sofa beside him with a rueful grin. "I'm sure I've slept on worse in my time."
Minerva scoffed. "I don't think that's necessary." She looked up into Hermione's face and saw her biting her lip nervously. "Are you okay to share with me?" She questioned the tense witch. At Hermione's subtle nod, she continued. "Well then, George and Angelina can have the room you had last night so they are near the children, and Harry the blue room in the attic." She told them, standing up. "Come on, I'll show you the way."
~x~
The night before, Minerva had been surprised when in the early hours of the morning, a warm body crawled into bed beside her. Realising there was only one person it could be, she turned and snuggled into the warmth the younger woman provided and fell back to sleep with gentle hands running through her hair soothingly. She'd woken that morning to find their positions reversed and her cradling Hermione against her chest, one hand trapped within her unruly curls.
Preparing for bed side-by-side in her ensuite bathroom was a different story entirely, as was the knowledge she'd have the younger witch beside her all night, rather than initially settling in separate beds only to be joined when her nightmares woke her.
Gazing at herself in the mirror, Minerva took stock of her features. Always tall and slim, that hadn't changed over the years, and being an Animagus helped keep her fit and active. Despite her age, she didn't think she looked too bad but understood that, in part, was because magical folk aged slower. Her hair was still dark, with only a smattering of silver running through it at the temples. Her emerald eyes, more often than not hidden behind the wire-rimmed square glasses she wore, shone with emotion. They expressed her excitement and passion for life but also her sadness and pain. Many said she was stern but fair and the truth was, she took great pains to hide her softer side, not at all willing to let her any perceived softness be used against her.
When warm arms encompassed her waist, and a soft cheek pressed against her shoulder blade, she waited patiently, her eyes falling closed as she inhaled a deep breath and waited for the younger witch to speak.
"You've been quiet this evening," Hermione muttered.
"Aye," Minerva agreed dryly. "I thought it best to let you spend time reconnecting with your friends once more. You may accept me for who I am beyond my various titles, but to your friends, I'm still their old Professor or Head of House and it's doubtful they'd know what to say or how to act when faced with the woman and not the Professor."
Turning her around, Hermione held on tighter. "You're so silly sometimes, love. Harry looks up to you, not only as his Professor and Head of House but for the woman you are. We always knew you cared, you made it obvious."
Minerva shook her head in denial. "Now, you're the one being daft, lass."
"So when I was petrified, and Harry told you he wanted to visit me, your voice wasn't hoarse, from fighting your tears?" Hermione asked. "Or how about when you encouraged Neville to take Charms, instead of listening to his grandma when she told him it was a soft option?" She grinned. "You were tough but never cruel and although we never received any preferential treatment, we all knew you cared about us. We're your cubs." She wagged her finger at Minerva cheekily. "And don't get me started on how you talked the Ministry into handing over a time-tuner to a 13-year-old. That in itself showed you cared, if only that I didn't get too bored."
"You were nearly fourteen." Minerva corrected before letting out an inelegant bark of laughter. "Going on forty."
"True," Hermione chuckled. "But going back to what I was saying, Harry, cast a successful Cruciatus curse on your behalf, so if you think you don't matter to him, or that he doesn't see you, you are wrong," she told her firmly. "You are important to every one of us that were lucky enough to fall under your care, Minerva."
"Harry's been a guest lecturer in the Defence Against The Dark Arts classes over the years," Minerva admitted. "He's never refused my requests."
"I know. He mentioned it earlier." Hermione grinned. "I also know you let him comfort you after you met my parents in Australia and heard what they had to say. So what's the problem, love? Tell me honestly."
"I don't know." Minerva turned her face away. After a few seconds, she spoke. "How did you do it, lass?" She queried softly.
"Do what?" Hermione asked.
"How did you adjust to an entirely new world, face its prejudices, and still show steadfast loyalty and immense courage?" She leaned closer and hid her face against Hermione's neck. "I've spent my years standing up for those around me, defending them against the prejudices still prevalent in this world and I'm so tired of it, lass. I hate to think how disheartening it must be for those on the receiving end and I respect you so much for your ability to continue."
"It was pure stubbornness. I just didn't want to fail." Hermione's arms released her, and pulling away slightly, rose to take the pins from her dark hair, releasing it from its usual bun and letting it cascade over her shoulders and down her back. "You know, you're such an enigma to most people, but everyone respects you, love. You're an icon in this world."
"So are you, lass, don't ever doubt that," Minerva remarked softly, holding out her hand. "Come on, I believe it's time for bed."
"Min—er—Minerva, you know I'm not ready for—" Hermione looked away. "—that." She whispered.
The emphasis on the last word was clear and she understood that Hermione meant she wasn't ready to be intimate with her. "I know," Minerva reassured, cupping her cheeks. "I'll wait as long as necessary and won't ever force things. Until you are ready for more, I will simply feed your soul, attempt to enlighten you of your brilliance, guide you, talk to you and love you."
Hermione pulled back and taking her hands, twined their fingers together and smiled. "I was right the other night, you're such a sweet talker." Tugging on Minerva's hand, she grinned when she stepped forward and let her lead her back into the bedroom and to the waiting bed.
Moving around to the far side, Minerva pulled the comforter away and slipped under it. Turning onto her side, she propped herself up on one elbow and used her free hand to pat the bed beside her.
Still smiling, Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and slid under the covers before turning to face her. "I'm really glad you turned up on Friday." She admitted. "I'm happy that Izzy will get a chance to get to know you and learn from you."
"You've given me the most extraordinary gift, lass." Minerva lay back and stretched out her arm invitingly. "You have no idea just how elated I am to have you both here. For the first time in years, I'm content."
Hermione sank and rested her head against her shoulder. "I think I'm beginning to see that," she muttered sleepily, snuggling into her arms and wrapping hers around her. "Promise you won't let go."
"I promise, lass," Minerva stated softly, pulling her close and placing a chaste kiss on the crown of her head. "Sleep, lass. You're safe with me."
~x~