Minerva descended from the Headmaster's tower quietly, her enhanced hearing already picking up the telltale swell of noise from the Great Hall below. A familiar thrum of anticipation flickered in the pit of her stomach at the thought of so many eager minds waiting to be filled. Whatever students thought of their professors, Minerva knew that her colleagues all felt similarly - no one was immune to return-of-the-term jitters, not even teachers.
Smiling lightly to herself, she elected to take the back way, pleased as the castle staircases quickly rerouted themselves to her wishes.
A few moments later Minerva found herself at the rear doors to the Great Hall, heart already swelling with emotion as she made to enter unobtrusively.
Stepping into the brightly lit chamber, Minerva's eyes rested upon her colleagues who sat at the High Table calmly, already watching over the undulating sea of black robes whose voices were raised in excitement.
Neville and Draco sat with their heads close together, likely making some sort of wager that she didn't want to know about. At the opposite end of the table Poppy and Rolanda were engaged in something similar, and Minerva felt her lips purse in displeasure even as Pomona caught her eye and gave her a wink.
Minerva glided into the High Chair quietly, emerald eyes already scanning the sea of faces, feeling a hint of satisfaction at seeing a number of the younger faces notice her and whisper amongst themselves in a combination of fear and awe.
"First years are about five-minutes out… Filius just sent word," Pomona muttered quietly, giving her a small nudge.
Minerva nodded absently, attempting to look around the Hall surreptitiously. She noted the Sorting Hat shifting subtly on the bench even as her gaze traveled past it over toward her table, where amongst the shifting robes were spots of gold and red.
Her brow furrowed a moment later, but before she could comment upon the conspicuous absence of their returning student, the Great Hall doors opened with a subtle creak and Hermione Granger emerged… Looking like…
A goddess, her mind quickly supplied, and Minerva fought to keep her features impassive.
The witch's entrance had been subtle enough - by the end of one's third year, most students had figured out how to open the heavy doors to the Great Hall unobtrusively.
However, as the witch made her way down the long aisle between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, the whispers began and soon the entire room was craning to watch as Miss Granger gracefully walked the entire length of the room to sit nearest to the High Table. She kept her head held high, responding to curious onlookers with a gaze so direct and impassive, Minerva saw a number of students shrink back in surprise.
Despite herself, Minerva was unable to prevent her eyes from raking over the undeniably lovely and womanly vision before her. Briefly, she was glad at having authorized the last minute changes to the witch's uniform as the formal look suited her perfectly. The lithe, yet clearly voluptuous figure was tastefully concealed beneath a long skirt, vest, and blouse that made Miss Granger appear like the academic edition of some sort of runway model.
Dark hair was highlighted in shades of gold and pulled away from her face in a rather severe style that only accentuated her high cheekbones and sweeping brows. The witch's full lips were stained a dark red and Minerva realized with a start that while her former student was recognizable, she was clearly a grown woman and a very attractive one at that.
There was a change to her physicality as well. Minerva's eyes narrowed - the witch glided with a nearly feline grace, her dark robes billowing mysteriously before she slid into place with ease, barely sparing a glance at the shocked faces of her fellow Housemates as she somehow managed to make sitting at a bench look regal.
Briefly, Minerva felt a pang of sympathy for the witch's inherent status as an outsider… they had never had to deal with a returning student of her age. But that feeling dissolved a moment later as Miss Granger shifted her focus to the High Table, her gaze slowly shifting from one professor to the next as she gave each of them a slight smile and nod of acknowledgment. It was, again, the action of a confident woman… not the insecure glance of a girl seeking reassurance.
Where had this witch come from?
Minerva felt her breath hitch as the weight of that gaze began growing closer and closer to the High Chair. Pomona waved next to her and then… abruptly, she was skipped over as Miss Granger continued down the table - her eyes crinkling into a small smile as Septima blew her a light kiss.
She tried not to feel slighted. Nor irritated when Rolanda blew the witch a kiss too and Miss Granger's shoulders visibly shook as she chuckled attractively.
A moment later, the entire Hall's attention shifted as the doors opened with a resonant clang to reveal the trembling cluster of new first-years fresh off the boats and shivering with anticipation as Hagrid called out a loud greeting.
Predictably, Minerva felt her heart soften slightly as the group of nervous round faces followed Filius toward the center of the room, shuffling their feet as big eyes gazed around the room looking like a bunch of lost owlets. She fought not to glance over toward her Gryffindors... intent upon greeting the newest students with the attention they deserved.
Miss Granger would have to wait.
Unfortunately, her best intentions were thwarted and Minerva suddenly realized she had barely heard the Hat's song before the Sorting began in earnest. Her thoughts were decidedly preoccupied.
She clapped politely with the entire room as the group of first years began growing smaller and smaller.
Distantly, Minerva kept one ear open to the side conversations at the High Table - Draco and Neville had a good natured bet going regarding the final tallies of Gryffindor and Slytherin's newest recruits, while Poppy and Rolanda were betting something similar between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. And speaking of…
"GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat shouted enthusiastically as another wave of applause rose from the left side of the Hall.
This time Minerva watched as the little witch - Emmalie Merritt, hopped off the stool and ran toward her new Housemates who were waving her over with open arms. The girl paused, smiling shyly before sliding in across from Miss Granger who reached across the table and patted the younger witch's arm encouragingly, resulting in a huge grin.
The Sorting continued, passing through the R's, S's and T's before Minerva chanced another glance over toward Gryffindor.
With surprise, she noted a small clump of first-years surrounding Miss Granger, apparently hanging on her every word as she explained something with elegant and refined gestures. The witch's back was toward Minerva, but it was clear that Miss Granger was commanding both respect and perhaps a few burgeoning crushes as the first girl, Emmalie leaned forward with a mischievous expression and said something that made the older witch laugh. Minerva just caught the delightful sound and it caused a shiver through her body that had nothing to do with the cool air.
A wave of applause resonated through the Hall, echoing between stone walls and with a start Minerva realized the Sorting was finished. Merlin, stay focused, Min!
Filius waved the stool and Hat away as Minerva rose smoothly, gazing toward the back of the Hall as everyone shifted to give her their attention.
"Good evening ladies and gentleman… before we begin our feast, I should like to take a moment to welcome the newest incoming students to our hallowed halls." She paused, her emerald gaze raking over many of the youngest faces in the crowd who looked back at her with big eyes.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has long been an institution whose reputation has garnered respect and admiration. The Houses into which you have just been Sorted will now become your home for the next seven years and I implore you to turn to each other for help, guidance, and most importantly, friendship."
Over at Gryffindor table, a number of the older boys were clapping each other on their backs as they smiled at each other with familiar camaraderie. Minerva lifted an eyebrow.
"Let us not forget, however… that we are beings capable of unimaginable growth. While your House may draw forth your confidence, your intelligence, your sense of community, or sense of self, I encourage everyone in this Hall to consider what may be learned from your fellow peers beyond the House colors. We are all far more similar than we realize."
The Hall grew quiet and Minerva could see a number of the older students mulling over her words as others looked around the room in a bit of confusion. The small Gryffindor girl, Miss Merritt craned to look around Miss Granger to the other tables across the hall.
Deciding the seed was planted, she gestured at the tables and they immediately filled with a beautiful spread of sumptuous dishes. There were a few gasps and Minerva's lips curled into a gentle smile.
"Without further ado, let us enjoy."
Hermione ate her meal quietly, smiling softly as she listened to the excited chatter of the group of first-years that had surrounded her unexpectedly.
There were six of them at the moment - bubbling over with joy as they talked about Quidditch. What else would it be?
She had dropped out of the conversation for the moment, instead surreptitiously glancing along the rest of her table where a number of pairs of eyes quickly averted their gaze.
Sitting at the long Gryffindor table without Harry and Ron by her side felt surreal… as though she had been plucked from the desert and placed into a theatrical production about someone else's life.
Her new robes were comfortable but far heavier than she was used to, and while the sights and smells were drawing forth overlapping waves of nostalgia, Hermione couldn't help but feel terribly… well, out of place.
Kingsley forced you into this decision, but now you have to live with it, she thought ruefully, spearing a buttery slice of sweet potato.
Re-enrolling at Hogwarts had been a calculated dig at the Minister's tampering and the look upon his face when she had declared her decision had been worth the many hours of fighting her way upwards through the many offices of the Ministry's Registry Department. It seemed that Kingsley had forgotten one thing about Gryffindor bravado - it was nothing if not bold.
Truthfully however, Hermione had been so caught up in finding a satisfying means of civil disobedience that she had forgotten that she would actually have to live with the consequences of her decision.
It was preposterous, really - a witch of her age and education status going back to complete her missed seventh year at Hogwarts? She could have sat her N.E.W.T.s blindfolded and passed with flying colors, but then... that was the entire point.
Her own Master had been appalled when Hermione had announced her decision over formal Friday dinner, but later laughed herself silly when Hermione had broken down her reasoning.
There was no way that the Ministry would endorse her decision, but at the moment they could do nothing to prevent it. By definition, she would be engaged in a course of full-time study which would render her exempt from the ridiculous penalties being applied to unmarried persons. For the moment, her choice had also guaranteed her a bit of peace and privacy - Hermione knew that Kingsley would keep her return to Britain away from the press as best he could lest she open her mouth to publicly protest the Ministry's decisions.
She would also gain another year of forbearance after she sat her N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year… giving her added time to finish out her Mastery thesis from afar (as of yet, the Ministry had no jurisdiction on Society matters), search for loopholes in the new referendums being passed by the Wizengamot, and attempt to establish a solid plan of resisting the absurd limitations being placed upon her individual freedoms.
Glancing up to the High Table, Hermione felt a brief pang of guilt at realizing that her plan would place the Headmistress and the other Hogwarts professors in the middle of a complicated political situation, but she hoped that they would see her decision in a positive light.
That had never been her intention, but then... everything had unfolded rather quickly.
Peaceful protest, she thought, taking another demure bite of vegetables. At least for the next year until you either find a way to take on the Ministry, begin another Mastery… or find yourself a partner.
The last thought was both terrifying and thrilling.
Hermione had scarcely given voice to the first sketches of a secondary plan forming in the darker recesses of her thoughts. There were so many unknowns... and part of her chafed against the Ministry's meddling, since it would mean giving into their entire system of marriage-laced propaganda.
There were far too many things to rationalize.
Besides, you haven't even spoken to her yet… whispered a quiet voice in the back of her mind.
Sighing to herself, Hermione returned her attention to the meal and attempted to shuttle away all concerns regarding impossible relationships and organized anarchy until later when she could journal in the privacy of her own rooms.
Just stick to the original plan... however it unfolds, you have the potential for success.
Hermione's brow furrowed as another deliberate bite of her dinner revealed a separate, smaller problem.
Hogwarts food was so heavy and rich - she had forgotten. Either she would have to train differently or… perhaps it would be possible to pay a visit to the House Elves?
Sighing softly, she idly considered her options.
"Miss Granger?" A light voice broke through her thoughts. Hermione turned slightly, fixing the young witch across from her with a half-smile.
"I'm not faculty, Emmalie. Please call me Hermione," she chided gently, folding her napkin to one side before giving the girl her undivided attention.
At least the students feel familiar...
The young witch squirmed under her scrutiny, dark cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she smiled shyly.
"H-Hermione? Could you tell us a bit about…" Emmalie trailed off as the girl next to her, Luz… her name is Luz, leaned over causing both girls to giggle. Hermione waited.
"Could you tell us about Headmistress McGonagall?"
"The Headmistress?" Hermione sat back slightly as both girls blushed, quickly grabbing each others' arm and giggling. Had she somehow given away her private thoughts? She had been expecting the name "Harry Potter" or "Ron Weasley" to fall from their lips, or perhaps a question about the War...
But Minerva McGonagall?
Her genuine surprise must have registered because both girls looked at each other wistfully, slightly embarrassed.
"Well, she's just so… beautiful," Luz said softly, her dark eyes drifting over Hermione's shoulder in the direction of the High Table.
Hermione shook her head slightly and smiled. Oh, if only you girls knew.
"Yes… that she is," she murmured softly, resisting the urge to follow the girls' dreamy gaze.
Unexpectedly, Kingsley's voice popped back into her mind.
'I imagine you still have the potential to surprise even her…'
Shaking her head, Hermione pushed her plate away and folded her arms on the table, electing to pin both girls with a conspiratorial look as she smoothed away her many questions and concerns about the future.
Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan...
"So what is it you want to know?"