A/N: Thank you for the lovely feedback! Glad to know I haven't scared everyone off entirely ;)
Hermione woke to the sound of her wand vibrating loudly on the bedside table, instantly shivering as her body was revealed to cool morning air as she silenced the noise with her hand.
A smattering of disjointed images passed through her mind as the drew herself away from a rather pleasant dream… something involving soft contours, a flash of emerald, and a wordless sense of anticipation.
Wincing slightly, she sat up… already reluctant to leave the warm cocoon of her bed as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes. Glancing at the journal upon her bedside table, Hermione caught a glimpse of her timetable tucked between the pages; a nervous tremor of excitement suddenly blossomed as she realized it was Tuesday.
Transfiguration, first period.
Throwing back the covers Hermione padded to the window, peeking though the crimson drapes to see that while the ambient temperature seemed a bit more brisk than the day previous, the sky was free of clouds and there was a lovely sheen of mist hanging over the dark waters of the lake below.
Wispy tendrils were colored in shades of rose and lavender and suddenly Hermione was itching to step outside and be a part of the breathtaking scene.
She rushed through her ablutions quickly - pulling her curls into a high ponytail and donning a rather high-cut swimsuit before covering it with a jumper and pair of black leggings. Deciding that her goal of investigating the Room of Requirement could wait until later, Hermione tugged her trainers on and slid her wand up her sleeve.
A few minutes later she was bounding down the steps toward the main doors, smiling lightly as the staircases obliged her path with ease. True to her word, Hermione had spent the last half hour before curfew engaging in a bit of harmless play with a number of the stairs - even allowing one of the second-floor staircases to trap her in a vanishing step for a number of minutes while it had practically chuckled at her attempts to free herself - relenting only when she charmed its threadbare carpet into a pattern of garish yellow roses.
Her light steps seemed to echo throughout the stone corridors even as fine threads of sunlight began to dapple the halls in pale rays. It was invigorating to be awake before everyone else and she felt a brief stab of nostalgia at recalling her early morning runs in the warm streets of Jerusalem, the light stone echoing her steps in a familiar, friendly manner. It seemed surreal that her last one had only taken place a few days previous.
Time to let it go… you'll go back to visit soon.
Hermione sighed quietly, running down the last staircase in an easy, loping gait.
As she lifted her wand to open the heavy doors before her, she froze at hearing quiet footsteps to her left.
"Good morning, Miss Granger. Another morning jaunt is in order, I see?"
Professor Flitwick stood near the entrance to the Great Hall, dressed in his typical bright blue robes and wearing a warm smile that seemed rather impish. If Hermione hadn't known better, she would have sworn he had been waiting for her.
"Good morning," she replied, quickly drawing herself together with practiced ease. "Yes, I thought to make a habit of training before breakfast."
"Marvelous. I take it this is a practice you developed abroad?" Professor Flitwick asked, tilting one head to the side curiously.
Hermione smiled politely, wondering if this wasn't the wizard's subtle method of extracting more information about her time in Jerusalem. She had already noted the deliberate way that her professors continued to tread around the mystery of her disappearance. Likely, it was a command that had come from the Headmistress.
If he's not fishing for information, then…?
With a start, Hermione realized that the deceptively polite voice was one that Flitwick reserved for students… and with a sinking sense of resignation, she realized that she was now subject to the old rules and regulations of days past. Surely he wasn't about to admonish her, was he?
The thoughts flew through her mind in a barrage of information and Hermione blinked before answering.
"Indeed," she replied uncertainly, clasping her hands behind her back and mimicking his casual posture, "Though I imagine I will soon be looking for an alternative means of training as winter approaches."
The small wizard nodded thoughtfully and Hermione took a moment to resettle. Her memories of the old Prefect's handbook had sprung forward without effort; there were no rules barring her departure from the castle after five, so long as she remained upon the school's grounds.
"Ah, yes. The Scottish weather will undoubtedly subvert even the most well-meaning plans to pursue one's invigorating dips into nature… though I am certain that Hogwarts has means of providing whatever it is you should... require… when winter finally makes it's icy presence known," Professor Flitwick replied smoothly, beginning to make his way toward the staircase off to her left.
Hermione nodded in surprise, briefly wondering if the professor meant what she thought he meant… and then she saw the subtle twinkle in the wizard's eye.
There's no mistaking that look… she'd seen that mischievous gleam reflected in her own Master's eyes for years.
"I shall have to investigate my options thoroughly it seems," Hermione replied warmly, offering a genuine smile. The professor nodded, humming lightly to himself as he began ascending the staircase. Turning over one shoulder, he offered a cheerful salute.
"Enjoy your morning, Miss Granger."
Hermione smiled after him in puzzlement, wondering if the Deputy Headmaster was secretly a Legilimens or if it had been a convenient twist of fate that he simply divulged the information she had planned to seek out later.
Well... at least it appeared that she had one ally after all.
And now you know the Room has been restored…
Feeling a bit bemused, Hermione continued toward the doors, breathing the fresh air deeply as the brisk morning air cut across her face.
While she didn't quite understand what the Head of Ravenclaw was up to, she had the sneaking suspicion that she would have to keep a closer eye on Professor Flitwick than even she herself realized.
"Minerva?"
"Good morning, Filius," Minerva replied distantly, in the midst of penning a letter to the Educational Offices of the ICW. The Floo had just roared to life and without looking up she knew it could only be her Deputy at the early hour.
A moment later she glanced to her left and caught the time.
Just after five-thirty? Merlin… what is this day about?
"Our star pupil is engaged in her training endeavors at the moment should you wish to investigate," Filius replied airily, stepping out from the fireplace and already making a beeline for her door.
"Did you really just waltz in here to give me a play-by-play of Miss Granger's whereabouts?" Minerva asked exasperatedly, looking up just in time to catch the wizard's small chuckle.
"No. Also to tell you that I took the liberty of opening a few of your letters from last night. It seems that Augusta Longbottom and Arthur Weasley are in agreement that the witch should take over Horace's classes immediately."
"Really?" Minerva asked, sitting back in genuine surprise. Arthur Weasley was a shoo-in for Miss Granger's proposed position, but Augusta Longbottom was an unexpected supporter. Merlin knew that the elderly witch was difficult to please - she was largely the reason that Minerva had been unable to fill a second Potions position in the first place.
If she approves, that will sway at least four or five others on the Board for certain.
"Indeed. If Augusta's letter was any indication then I would imagine you'll be receiving additional affirmative responses from Renata, Elphias, Narcissa, and Cassius by the end of the morning," Filius replied confidently, fluffing his robes with a cheerful flourish.
"Do you really believe that Narcissa Malfoy will acquiesce to having Miss Granger on staff?" Minerva asked dubiously, lifting a careful eyebrow.
"You haven't forgotten that the witch holds a Mastery in Potions, have you?" Filius asked in surprise. "Surely she wouldn't turn down such a promising candidate for the sake of her personal feelings… especially one with Miss Granger's credentials? I know you might not like the woman, but you have to admit that she's been a remarkably objective voice upon the Board compared to Lucius."
Minerva's lips thinned at that. She had indeed forgotten that Narcissa Malfoy had once been a talented Mistress in her own right, though part of her still wouldn't be surprised if the woman raised some sort of obscure opposition to the idea. The witch was never one for unorthodoxy.
If Narcissa agrees, that only leaves two more spots open to gain a majority vote…
"It seems Horace may get his wish after all," Minerva replied thoughtfully.
Filius chuckled again, wand waving the door open with a deft flick.
"Oh pish-posh. His desires and everyone else's at this institution. She'd be a right asset to these halls and you know it, Minerva."
Minerva's lips pressed together as she barely stifled an eyeroll. It was far too early for Filius' cheek.
"Go make yourself useful or I'll have you writing lines on the virtue of objectivity," she snapped, flinging the door closed.
There was a satisfying "oof" on the other side and Minerva swallowed a smirk before shaking her head and resettling. Her Deputy's light footsteps trickled away and she was left to her thoughts.
It seemed that events were coming together in the most unexpected of ways and fortunately, ways that simply made her job as Headmistress easier.
If only the quiet flutter in the pit of her stomach would go away.
She sighed and set aside her quill, sitting back for a moment to gaze out the windows where she could just see the treetops of the Forbidden Forest edged in gold.
A second letter lay open on her desk and while it still lay unsigned, Minerva couldn't quite bring herself to send off the inquiry to the Ministry of Magic requesting Miss Granger's most recent records. As Headmistress, investigation into the witch's inexplicable reappearance was more than logical - especially now that the young woman was up for potential hire, but considering their long history together… it didn't seem right.
Be patient… surely she will come to you in her own time.
Turning back to her desk, Minerva tucked the unfinished letter into the center drawer and passed a hand over her immaculate hair. Until she heard back with a preliminary decision from the Board, her letter to the Ministry could wait… and hopefully in that time the young woman would offer up an explanation to satisfy some of the mystery.
And not just your curiosity...
The thought drew forth memories of the night previous and her embarrassing little slip-up in the basement corridor.
Albus had always found great amusement whenever Minerva's curiosity got the better of her - relishing in the infrequent instances in which she and her Animagus stumbled into trouble. He used to insist that she needed to follow her impulsive urges in order to balance out the high standards of control and poise that she held herself to upon a daily basis.
Pursing her lips, Minerva shook her head.
No, despite what her friend used to say... curiosity continued to be one of her worst faults.
And you should have more sense than to transform so gratuitously in front of your students!
She felt jumpy, anxious, and overly tired. Rising stiffly, Minerva made a quick circuit of the room before drifting over the windows to gaze down at the sun-kissed grounds below.
Perhaps an early morning walk about the lake would quell her nerves.
Her Mondays and Wednesdays were free all term and while Minerva had been granted a reprieve from teaching the day previous, her concerns regarding Miss Granger were coloring her usual preparations for the seventh year Transfiguration classes.
The night previous, she had spent several hours after her rounds revising notes and pondering through her curricula. Having a more mature witch in that class would undoubtedly challenge everyone, herself included... and for whatever reason Minerva found herself poring over her syllabus, wondering whether or not to switch up self-transformation with Transfigurative dueling, to begin with a lecture demonstration or to demand practicals on the first day back.
Realizing her thoughts were no less circuitous and irrational than they had been during the wee hours of the night, Minerva pressed a delicate hand to the bridge of her nose.
You have been teaching this course for over forty years, she thought firmly, twisting her lips and returning to her desk.
There is no need to change your entire methodology simply because you are concerned about the experience of one single student...
She dipped her quill into emerald ink with renewed vigor.
She would finish the letter to the ICW and run through her seventh-year curriculum straight afterwards. Her impending first period of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors didn't need more than a half hour of her time, especially not for syllabus day.
And if the weather wasn't too brisk, then that early morning walk certainly couldn't hurt...