Disclaimers: See chapter 1.

~x~

Minerva woke to feel the heat of the woman still curled around her. Opening her eyes, she squinted at the light filtering through the open curtains and growled a little. Dawn had just broken but as far as she was concerned, it was still far too early to be awake.

The woman in her arms stirred and pressed closer, throwing her leg over her, pinning her to the mattress and the arm that was tucked under the brunette's neck was numb but her fingers tingled with an onslaught of pins and needles and she knew she'd need to move to stave off the feeling.

Hoping that clenching her hand would suffice, Minerva tried this, only for the pins and needles to hit full force, causing her to hiss slightly and try to pull her arm free.

Not only did she have the desired effect of releasing her arm, but the movement spun Hermione away from her until she fell off the bed and landed on the floor.

Hearing the low groan of pain, she held her arm against her chest and clenched her fingers. She peered over the edge of the bed and forgot her discomfort upon spotting Hermione's shoulder held at an odd angle.

Scampering over the mattress, she slipped from the bed and fell to her knees beside the younger witch.

Ignoring the pins and needles, her hands reached out and when she touched the shoulder lightly it was clear something wasn't right when the gentle touch was greeted with a loud yelp. Bleary, pain-filled light brown eyes met hers and she exhaled the breath she'd been holding. "I'm sorry, lass."

"What the hell?" Hermione tried to sit up and cried out again. "Merlin's left nut. Fuck! Ow, ow, ow! What the hell?" She squawked.

Minerva heard the sound of heavy footsteps padding down the stairs until they stopped outside the door, no doubt pulled towards it by Hermione's colourful yelling. A low knock came at the door, followed by Harry's low voice. "Professor? Hermione? Is everything okay?"

Rubbing her hand over her head, in an attempt to smooth down her bed hair, Minerva sighed. "Come in, Harry." Her hand tugged Hermione's nightshirt down from where it had ridden up, exposing her toned stomach. She noticed the faint stretch marks that showed how Isobel had changed the woman's body and wanted desperately to map them with the tips of her fingers and mouth. When the door opened, she glanced up at Harry and frowned. "Hermione fell out of bed and I think she has hurt her shoulder."

Hermione continued to struggle to sit upright, her left arm hanging uselessly at its odd angle. Harry moved closer and Minerva tried to help but was wary of hurting her further. "How on Earth did I fall out of that very large bed? I was perfectly content in the middle of it, snuggled up to your side not half an hour ago." She groaned, finally getting herself upright and sitting against the bed frame with a huff. She glared down at her useless shoulder. "Bloody hell, it hurts."

"I don't think it's broken, just dislocated," Harry stated, kneeling at her feet. "'Listen, Hermione, I need you to put your right hand on my shoulder. Keep a tight hold and don't move," he told her.

Hermione did as she was told, holding onto Harry's shoulder so tightly he winced. Gently taking hold of her left wrist, he slowly moved her left arm until it was held horizontally out to the side then pushed it slightly upwards until they all heard a satisfying pop. Hermione whimpered and Harry grinned at her.

"Better?" He asked. Giving her shoulder a few tentative rotations, she exhaled a pained breath then nodded at him. "It'll be sore and you may end up with some swelling and bruising. I think you should see a healer, just to make sure there's no further damage, but the usual Muggle trick of ice and rest should see you back to normal in a few days. A pain potion or two will help in the interim." Harry looked at Minerva. "I'm sure you can take care of things from here, right, Professor?"

Before she could respond, Hermione did. "Of course, she can." She released her death grip on his shoulder, raising her hand to ruffle his perpetually messy hair. "But before you go, you can help me up off this floor."

Harry grinned and eased Hermione to her feet before pushing her down gently onto the mattress. "Get some more rest, Hermione, it's still early." He grinned down at her before turning and offering his hand to her too. "Minerva." He spoke her name hesitantly, having never said it out loud in her presence.

Taking it, she let him pull her to her feet and then cupped his stubbled cheek. "You're a good man, Harry James Potter," Minerva told him. "Thank you."

Blushing a little, Harry pulled back and left the room as quickly as he appeared, muttering a low, "you're welcome" before the door closed behind him.

Sighing, Minerva turned towards the bed and eyed the young woman sprawled on top of it. "I hope I haven't made him uncomfortable."

Patting the space beside her, Hermione gazed at her, waiting for her to lie at her side but instead of crawling back into the bed, Minerva settled Hermione further into the pillows before turning away and stepping into the ensuite bathroom. Grabbing a pain potion, she moved back towards the bed and handed it to the younger witch.

She watched Hermione swallow the potion with a grimace and satisfied, at least for the moment, she lay down beside the brunette.

"I doubt Harry's truly uncomfortable, maybe just a little overwhelmed," Hermione explained with a frown.

Minerva considered the words and her mind roved to something she'd not allowed herself to dwell on for many years. "You know, I was against him being left with those Muggles. Not because I hold any sort of prejudice against them, but after watching them, they just seemed like the worst sort of people." She sighed. "I offered to take him in, but Albus insisted that he needed to go to his only living relatives and that it would keep him safe."

"And it did," Hermione assured her. "It's true, he was treated rather poorly by the Dursleys but he wouldn't be the man he is without those experiences."

"I know that. I do. But I can't help but wonder how he would have turned out if things had been different and he'd been brought up in a loving home." Minerva groaned. "Sometimes I wonder if I should have fought harder for him rather than blindly following Albus."

"What-ifs are perfectly normal, love," Hermione told her. "But you can't let them consume you, or they'll stop you from living in the moment, and right now, I know I wouldn't want to be anywhere but here and I'm sure Harry feels the same."

"I'm not certain about that, lass. Not with everything that's going on." She sighed sadly. "I know Molly, probably better than anyone, and she is overprotective when it comes to her family, even if it's to her detriment. Knowing her as I do, I've offered Harry my help because I can see him needing to fight should they decide to make life difficult over the children." Minerva advised Hermione softly.

Hermione frowned. "To be honest, I never really understood what Harry saw in Ginny, they were such an odd match, what with her having that serious case of hero-worship. But then, while we were on the run, I saw how much he missed her and when they reunited after the battle he seemed happy again so I kept my opinion to myself."

"In what way did he miss her," Minerva questioned. "I still don't fully know what happened while you were away, other than what was reported afterwards."

"Well, I suppose it can't hurt to tell you now," Hermione stated.

~x~

Hermione lay back against a stack of pillows and tried to get comfortable while Minerva settled on her side, waiting for the tale to begin.

"As you know, we were on the hunt for Horcruxes. Harry had destroyed Tom Riddle's diary when the Chamber of Secrets was opened, and Dumbledore destroyed Marvolo Gaunt's ring, but not before being cursed. On that final night, just before Dumbledore died, he and Harry had gone in search of Slytherin's Locket. They acquired a locket but realised it was a fake. We finally found out that Umbridge obtained the real thing from Mundungus after he ransacked Grimmauld Place, so, with the help of Polyjuice Potion, we breached the Ministry and managed to get it from her." Hermione grinned smugly, looking pleased with herself. "We used various spells to try and destroy the locket, the Reductor Curse, Incendio, and the Blasting Curse, but nothing worked, so it was decided we'd all take turns wearing it so it wouldn't get lost." Hermione shifted to find a more comfortable position, a frown suddenly marring her forehead.

"Will you go on?" Minerva urged.

"The Horcrux fed off our deepest fears. Harry grew frustrated and angry and began to doubt our loyalty, living in fear we would abandon him, so he became defensive, picking fights with us. He couldn't even find it in himself to cast a Patronus. As for me—well, I'll admit, before I started questioning my sexuality, my biggest fear was my grades and my parents' safety, but those things were no longer of concern since I'd left school and sent my parents away. Instead, it picked at my growing confusion over my sexuality and I became silent and sullen. I'd spent years thinking Ron and I would eventually be together, primarily because it's what everyone expected, but even before then, from my fifth year really, I'd started to question it." She licked her lips. "For some reason, Ron was affected more than Harry and I. We knew he was impatient, easily frustrated, impulsive, often quick-tempered and had the propensity to jump to conclusions, and it fed on his feelings of inferiority. It brought out the worst in him and before he left us, his biggest issue was how easy my friendship with Harry was. He suddenly saw it as romantic rather than the brother-sister relationship that had formed between us, and he was jealous."

"He left you?" Minerva seethed, stunned by this new knowledge.

"Yeah, he left," Hermione stated.

"And what then?" Minerva asked.

"By leaving, I felt like he'd betrayed us, but then he came back months later as if nothing happened, and Harry forgave him. I was so angry about that because rather than taking responsibility for his actions, he just blamed it on the necklace as if the damn thing didn't affect us all." Hermione told her. "The fact was, even if Harry couldn't see it, he acted true to form, with insecurity and jealousy, as he had in the years before then, like when Harry's name was pulled from the Goblet of Fire or when Krum asked me to the Yule Ball. He acted out because he wasn't the Chosen One or the so-called Brains. It was—" She let out a hiccupping sob, covering her mouth momentarily to hold them back. "—it was me that made sure we had enough to eat, me who cast all the protections and around our campsites so we weren't captured, me who kept researching, me checking the wards when I should have been sleeping, me practising magic until I lost all feeling in my arm, me who remained loyal and fucking stayed." She curled up in a small ball and let her tears fall. "It didn't seem to matter though."

"Oh, my beautiful lass. It still played on your fear of failure." Minerva suggested. "You would never willingly give up, but it pushed you, almost to breaking point." She soothed the young woman, her fingers running through her hair and down her back. "You didn't fail though, lass. You stayed strong for Harry when he needed you the most."

Eventually, Hermione calmed down and slid closer to her. "I swear, I don't usually cry this much." She said hoarsely, taking deep breaths and drying her eyes on her nightshirt. "Back then, when I felt like everything was falling apart, and his betrayal played on my mind constantly, I cried in my cot each night, trying to stay quiet and hide the fact from Harry. We'd stopped talking to each other by that point. Then one night, I saw Harry taking out the Marauder's Map and examining it by wand light. I thought he was hoping Ron's name would appear at Hogwarts but it never did. He checked that damn thing every night for weeks, so one night, while he was on guard duty, I snuck close behind him and I realised he'd been staring at Ginny's name. He looked so desolate."

"I'll admit, I was always curious about Harry's ability to find his way through the castle without getting caught. He handed the map over to me shortly after we returned from Australia." Minerva frowned. "Regarding Ginerva, from his behaviour in the second year onwards, although it was clear he liked her and they have a similar sense of humour, it didn't seem at all romantic. I thought she would be like you, simply his friend or perhaps like a little sister."

"I told Ginny to get on with her life and go out with other people, thinking if she relaxed around him and let him see the real her, he might take notice. But in our fifth year, she dated Terry Boot and Michael Corner, and he barely batted an eyelash, then in the sixth year, when she started seeing Dean, it was like someone had kicked his puppy." Hermione rolled her eyes. "There were no indications that they'd ever be together before then and if I was any kind of cynic, I'd say he ingested a love potion or three."

Minerva bolted upright. "Merlin's beard, lass! Your sixth year was when Horace returned to Hogwarts, and I know he was permitted to brew Amortentia to show his sixth-year students. Did you ever find out what it smells like to Harry?"

"I asked him after that first potion lesson. He told me it smelled like Treacle tart, the woody smell of a broomstick handle and something flowery he thought he might have smelled at The Burrow." Hermione told her. "Why?"

"He seemed to experience a sudden extreme infatuation," Minerva mused.

"But he'd have had to keep taking a potion while we were on the run." Hermione reasoned. "It wasn't possible."

"What if it wasn't a love potion, but an Entrancing Enchantment? If I remember correctly, you learn about them in Charms during your fifth year." Minerva stated.

"Professor Flitwick told us about them, but he never taught us how to cast them," Hermione stated, her brows knitted.

Picking up her wand from the small case on her bedside table, Minerva waved it briskly. "Captivari." She muttered. A purple light flared from the tip enveloping them both. Unable to resist, she gazed at the brunette beside her and smiled when she noticed how she was now staring at her. "Something wrong, lass?"

"Uh, no-uh-oooh." Hermione drawled, gazing at her like the sun rose and set with her. "Morgana's tits, you're a beautiful witch."

"Thank you," Minerva smirked. "Will you marry me, Hermione?" She grinned.

"Yes." Hermione breathed. "In a heartbeat. Today." She slipped from the bed and stood there, wincing slightly before holding her hand out towards her. "Come on then."

Having heard enough, Minerva cast the counter-spell. "Surgito."

Hermione shuddered and came back to herself, her eyes clearing and her frown returning. "Wha—?

"Thank you, lass," Minerva replied.

Hermione shook her head in confusion and dropped her arm. "What are you thanking me for?"

"For agreeing to marry me, of course," Minerva told her, her tone teasing.

"Wait, what?" Hermione squealed. "Marry you? When did I—damn it, Minerva."

"Is it wrong for me to want to marry you?" Minerva asked, only half-joking.

Hermione shook her head thinking of the things they'd been discussing before she'd cast the enchantment. "Why can't I remember?"

"That's, unfortunately, one of the side effects of that particular spell," Minerva explained. "It's why, once the enchantment is reversed, it's unlikely that the couple will continue to live a long and happy life together. The long-term effects on someone that's lived under an Entrancing Enchantment can be extreme, especially where the curse has spanned years and when there are children involved."

"Shit! So if Harry is under an Enchantment, he could forget the kids?" Hermione clarified, a shiver running through her.

"Aye, lass." Minerva sighed, patting the mattress beside her. "If it is true, we can't go in wands blazing."

Hermione hopped back onto the bed and snuggled under the duvet. "I hope, for his sake, we're wrong." She whispered before turning her focus back onto her. "Seriously though, love, you know you don't have to enchant me to get me to marry you, right?" She blushed furiously. "I've been in love with you for more than half of my life."

Minerva was stunned by the admission. "Really?" She queried hopefully.

"It started in my Fourth year," Hermione admitted shyly. "I realised I had the biggest crush the night of the Yule Ball. You looked gorgeous in those tartan dress robes." She grinned cheekily. "Though, I must admit, that wreath of thistles around the brim of your hat was seriously hideous."

Rolling her eyes, Minerva smirked down at her. "What did you expect me to wear on my head, lass? A diadem?"

Hermione giggled a little, causing a blaze of happiness to unfurl from within her.

~x~

At Minerva's request, before breakfast, she and Hermione Flooed into Hogwarts after ensuring Madam Pomfrey was available. Stepping into the hospital wing, she watched her come out of her office, concern written all over her face.

"What is it, Minerva? Is everything okay?" Poppy questioned.

"I'm fine, Poppy," Minerva explained. "I asked you here to check on Hermione."

Poppy's eyes were immediately drawn to the younger witch hovering behind the Headmistress and she sighed. "I read the article telling if your return." She said brusquely. "Well, at least you don't have whiskers this time. Come along." She gestured for them to move further into the large room and waved her hand at one of the examination tables. "So what have you been up to now, Ms Granger?"

Hermione sat on the edge of the table. "I had a mishap and fell out of bed." She admitted.

The medi-witch cast a diagnostic spell. "A mishap?"She glared at Minerva. "I suppose you had something to do with it?" Her wand moved up and down Hermione's body and once she had finished a scroll of parchment appeared. "You appear healthy enough, but there's some tissue damage to your shoulder, from a recent dislocation." She shook her head. "You'll need to drink a muscle-strengthening potion every morning and evening for the next three days to ensure there are no lingering effects. I will also suggest you rest, and when necessary take a mild pain potion." She frowned down at the parchment. "There's also some unusual scarring—" She faltered. "—down there—" She trailed off and nodded towards Hermione's lap.

"Oh. That would have been from Izzy's birth, Madam Pomfrey. She came a little too quickly and—" Hermione shrugged. "—I tore."

"Izzy?" Poppy queried.

Minerva smiled lightly. "Our daughter, Isobel." She pulled out the photograph she'd put into her pocket a few days before and had not yet returned to Hermione. She handed it to the medi-witch.

Poppy stared down at the photograph. "She's a bonny lass." Turning her eyes on Minerva, she smiled. "I suppose I should offer up my congratulations." She handed the photo back and turned away, moving into her office while muttering about barbaric Muggle medical practices.

Minerva could sense Hermione's discomfort. "What is it?" She stepped closer and ran her fingers through Hermione's hair gently.

"I don't think it was just Izzy's birth, although that didn't help." She admitted. "I—I think he damaged me too," Hermione whispered.

"Who?" Poppy was back and neither Minerva nor Hermione had noticed.

Hermione closed her eyes right and shook her head and Minerva watched her old friend approach and place a gentle hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

"As a healer, I swore an oath to uphold patient confidentiality." Poppy stated. "You can tell me anything, and I promise it will not leave this room, fy nghariad aur [my golden darling]."

"I feel so humiliated." Hermione whimpered. "The thought that he was ever inside me makes me want to vomit."

"Is this why you left?" Poppy asked, her voice gentle.

"At first, I didn't want to see anyone or be anywhere that would remind me of him. I spent a long time afraid to look people in the eye because I felt so much shame." A tear rolled down Hermione's cheek. "I had no control over what happened and I should have been able to defend myself, but I couldn't."

Minerva caught Poppy's eyes and saw the blazing anger fighting the sadness. "The freeze response is a known survival mechanism, your brain and body shut down in shock, making it difficult to move, speak, or even think. Sometimes once the initial shock wears off, the usual flight or fight tendencies kick in."

Minerva continued to run her hands through Hermione's curls. "I hope that one day it will become easier for you to accept that you are not responsible for his actions. You did not bring this on yourself and you have nothing to be ashamed of, lass."

"Everyone's going to know soon enough and I still have to tell Izzy before she reads it in the damn Prophet." Hermione cried. "How do I explain this to her?" Her panic was clear.

"Hermione, I need you to sit with your back straight." Poppy insisted. "Put one hand on your chest and the other on your stomach. Take a slow breath in through your nose, to the count of four."

Hermione did as she was told.

"One, two, three, four. Now hold your breath until I tell you otherwise." Madam Pomfrey told her. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven." Her voice was calm. "And exhale through your mouth slowly. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Now repeat that cycle until you feel centred."

She kept her hand on Hermione and explained the process to her. "You should find the slow movement of your hands on your chest and your stomach soothing. It will help you gain control when you're feeling overwhelmed or panicked."

Minerva was extraordinarily grateful to her friend. "Thank you, Poppy."

Poppy nodded and gazing up at her, mouthed her initial question. "Who?"

Glancing down at Hermione and realising she was starting to relax, Minerva turned her gaze to the Medi-witch once more and responded in kind. "Ronald Weasley."

Poppy looked aghast and removing her hand, she wiped at the sudden wetness forming under her eyes. She moved back into her office but returned quickly. "Drink this, Hermione." She urged gently.

"What is it?" Minerva demanded.

"Dr Ubbly's Oblivious Unction. I believe it may help clear up some of the nastier mental and emotional scars his actions left behind." Poppy told her.

~x~