A/N: Hope you're all enjoying it! It's not technically finished yet, but I have eight chapters finished and we'll try for a chapter every few days.
See disclaimer, Ch1.
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According to Ginny, the Weasley Christmas party had never been so popular. It seemed like everyone from the Order had been invited and once Charlie and Bill and Fleur had arrived, the party was in full swing.
Hermione was enjoying herself right up until Mr Weasley spied her standing with Harry and Ginny, laughing at something Fred had said.
"Ah, Hermione, just the person I needed to see."
"Oh," Hermione sighed, putting on a brave face. "Mr Weasley, Happy Christmas."
"Yes yes," he smiled, nodding expectantly. "I have here, a list. I wondered if you might," he trailed off but she plastered on a smile and nodded. "Excellent." He produced the list from his jacket pocket and nodded to the kitchen table. "First, what is the function of a punger?"
"A what?" Hermione asked.
"Um," Hermione frowned. He looked at his list again. "A -" he showed her.
"Oh, a plunger," Hermione chuckled. "It's for unclogging pipes. It creates -" She really didn't want to explain a vacuum. "Movement in the pipes and removes the clog."
"Excellent. And a tinder opener?"
"No, a tin opener. It's a device that helps muggles open tins, um," she frowned. "Cans of things. Fruit and vegetables etc. are often preserved in cans."
"Capital," he giggled, making a note. "Now," he said seriously. "Harry could not answer me this. What exactly is the purpose of a rubber duckie?"
"I -"
"Hermione."
Her heart sped up as and stopped all at the same time as the new voice reached her. She swallowed and turned to face the woman who's voice had so much power over her.
"Hi," she breathed.
"Hello," she smiled. "Arthur, I'm going to steal her away for a moment, you don't mind, do you?"
Mr Weasley stuttered for a moment before agreeing and Hermione felt a strong arm around her waist and was whisked away from Mr Weasley's questions and into another room.
"Thank you," Hermione gushed.
"You are most welcome," Minerva chuckled. "How many had he managed?"
"Only two but the first was a plunger and the next was a rubber duck."
Minerva chuckled and Hermione felt her breath catch as the woman's green eyes sparkled with mirth.
"If it's any consolation, it happens to us all."
"He didn't ask you as well?" Hermione gaped.
"He did," Minerva smiled. "Only once though."
"He's so much braver than I thought," Hermione grinned.
"You think it takes bravery to talk to me?"
"One has to be a little," Hermione grinned cheekily. "Plucky to do so, yes."
"Oh really," Minerva said, her eyebrow hitching on one side. "Plucky?" Hermione's lips were the ones to twitch this time. "What does that make you?"
Hermione laughed and realised Minerva was still in her cloak and hat.
"Oh," Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry. Talk about stupid. Here, let me take your cloak."
"Hermione, if there is one thing you are not, it is stupid."
"Even so," Hermione shrugged. "You rescued me so gallantly, and I left you in your cloak."
"Oh, I'm gallant now?" Minerva smirked.
"Lord," Hermione felt her face heat up so much she actually put her palms on her cheeks. "You are -"
"Teasing you," Minerva smiled. "Relax. I thought we were at a party?"
"We are," Hermione laughed. "But I'm making an idiot of myself."
"Nonsense," Minerva smiled. "Come on," she nudged Hermione gently with her hip. "I'm sure Molly has a bottle of whiskey around here somewhere."
"Whiskey? Molly?"
"No," Minerva chuckled. "You're right. I will probably have to make do with something less appealing."
"I can get you a Butterbeer?"
"I detest the stuff," Minerva admitted.
"I'll find something else then," Hermione grinned. "Be right back."
She made her way through the crowd of Order members and Weasley family members until she reached the kitchen. Ginny was standing talking to Tonks and Hermione tried not to catch their eye. She knew she'd failed when Ginny appeared in front of her, leaning on her elbows on the table and grinning lecherously.
"Don't -"
"Hi 'Mione," Ginny grinned.
"Ginny."
"Is she here?"
"Who?"
"So yes."
"What do we have to drink?"
"Butterbeer."
"No," Hermione shook her head. "Something else."
"Think Mum has some Schnapps somewhere."
"No, I don't think so," Hermione turned up her nose.
"Bloody hell," Ginny laughed. "Come look then."
She pointed to the pantry door and opened it as Hermione joined her.
"Holy shit Gin," Hermione laughed as she saw all the drinks Mrs Weasley had purchased for the party.
"I know. I did tell her she went overboard."
Hermione looked through the bottles until she found something she thought would work. She grabbed two bottles and grinned at Ginny, before disappearing back into the crowd. She made her way back to where she'd left Minerva, in the corner of the living room, and paused as she was met with empty space. She turned around and looked through the faces nearby until she felt it. The barest whisper of something by her ear and she grinned, turning slowly back to the space.
"Ginger beer?" she asked the space. "I'm afraid the beer part is a bit of a misnomer. It's non-alcoholic."
"What on earth is it then?" Minerva asked, reappearing with a shimmer. "And how did you know I was here?"
"Intuition," Hermione shrugged. "A feeling?"
"That's impressive, Miss Granger," Minerva smiled.
"Oh," Hermione said suddenly. "I didn't get you a glass."
"Come now," Minerva smirked. "You imagine I've never drunk from a bottle?"
"I -"
She couldn't say anything else as Minerva's lips wrapped around the top of the bottle and took a swig of her drink. Hermione nearly swallowed her tongue. She turned around to pretend someone had bumped into her and then realised she would need to find a different excuse when it was clear there was no one behind her.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, sorry, thought I'd stepped on something," she winced. "Um. Do you like it?"
"I do," Minerva smiled. "Good choice."
"Good," Hermione nodded. "Good."
She tried not to stare as Minerva took another drink, but she knew she was caught as Minerva smiled smugly and licked her top lip.
"Would you like to join me outside?"
"Yes," Hermione said, a touch too quickly.
She hesitated as their eyes met and just as she was about to look away, a touch of rose appeared on Minerva's cheeks and Hermione paused. A tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her of what Harry had said, but she discounted it immediately. Something had just flashed across Minerva's face that she couldn't read. But it wasn't that.
"Shall we?" Minerva asked quietly.
"Lead the way," Hermione nodded.
She could feel her heart beating so quickly she almost couldn't catch her breath, but she took a deep breath and slid her arm through Minerva's. They slipped out of the house and walked quietly beside each other out into the grounds of The Burrow. The cold day had warmed up considerably and as they came to a pause outside the garden, in the wild-space that the Weasley had on the Eastern boundary, Hermione stepped away and took a deep breath of crisp air.
"You are clearly a lover of winter?"
"I admit I do prefer the cold," Hermione smiled. "It's," she sought the word. "Clean, somehow. You can feel the edges of it. And, less poetically," she grinned as Minerva laughed with her. "You can always get warm if you're cold. When you're hot, you can only take off so much."
As she realised what she'd said, she blushed and Minerva laughed at her gently.
"I must admit, I do prefer the summer," Minerva muttered. "The smell of the lavender and then later, the heather? The softness of the grass underfoot? The babbling streams, cool and crisp and refreshing?"
"Well my attempts at poetry were pathetic," Hermione smiled. "And wherever it is that you spend your summers, I clearly need to visit," Hermione said with a sigh. "It sounds heavenly."
"The wilds of Scotland are some of the most beautiful places on this Earth, Hermione," Minerva muttered. "And I think I would be glad to show you, one day."
"After the war, I suppose," Hermione sighed.
"Yes," Minerva frowned. "Then."
Feeling like she'd broken something, Hermione moved back to Minerva's side and slipped her arm back into the crook of Minerva's.
"I'm sorry."
"Why should you be sorry," Minerva said, shortly.
"Because I've upset you."
"No," Minerva said vehemently. "I am not upset with you. I am upset that we are once again in a place that we should never have come to. That we are fighting a war with childr-"
"Hey," Hermione said, interrupting. "I'm not so much a child and I'm glad to fight." Minerva scoffed. "No," Hermione said, soothing the anger. "I know what you're going to say. That I can't possibly understand and you were right. I didn't. Not until last year. I didn't understand the feelings that accompanied it. Or what I would need to become in order to fight. But I do now."
"The Ministry was -"
"No, not that -"
"HERMIONE! McG!"
Hermione sprung apart from Minerva, biting her tongue to stop herself from telling Minerva that the Ministry was not the place where she had realised she was fully capable of taking a life. But rather a little before. When she'd seen that awful woman order her goons to shoot at Hagrid and then - she shivered. She remembered the slow-motion of Minerva's seemingly lifeless body floating through the air surrounded by red light. It was a horror that had followed her since. Like a dark and silent ghost just out of her reach. Not able to vanquish it, but not quite brave enough to face it either. That, perhaps, was better left in her own mind.
"Hermione?"
She crashed back to earth from her head and realised that she was standing beside Ginny and Minerva, who were both looking expectantly at her.
"Sorry," she shook her head. "I was miles away."
"Help me persuade McG to play Quidditch with us?"
"Me?" Hermione asked, then regretted instantly as Ginny's eyes grew ominously amused.
"If there's anyone that can persuade Professor McGonagall to do something, it's you, Hermione."
"I -" she glared daggers at her best friend and tried not to look at Minerva. "That's ridiculous," she said, rallying valiantly. "I doubt Professor McGonagall would do anything without actually wanting to do so."
"Quite right," Minerva said gently, amusement shining from her eyes. "And yet in this case, perhaps I will make an exception."
"Wait," Ginny said. "What. Are you serious?"
"Who else is playing?"
"It's 3-a-side and a Seeker. So just us. Bill won't play so we're one short. There's only one bludger so Fred and George will play one each."
"And where are you playing?"
Ginny grinned.
"Out the back, over the hill, away from the party."
"What do you think, Hermione?"
"I think yesterday I had to fix Ginny's broken arm after the bludger went wrong and," she spluttered. "As if, realistically, I could tell you what to do."
"Come now," Minerva smirked. "Where's your sense of danger."
"Danger?" Hermione squeaked.
"I thought we decided you were plucky," Minerva called as she turned.
After she spluttered for a further few moments, Hermione had finally decided on a retort, but it was too late. Minerva was already on her way, following Ginny across the yard and into the fields beyond. Rolling her eyes, Hermione followed, a sinking feeling in her gut.
Something was about to go horribly wrong.
