Consequences of Falling

Ch. 6

Time seemed to slow as the pair of women peered at one and other. Hermione was none too thrilled to be in the presence of the green eyed woman, she would have preferred to just return to her work and throw herself into a task, but that was not what fate had planned for her. Instead, she was drawn face to face in what had to be one of the most awkward of interactions. Staring down her employer in her private quarters, a woman who plagued her daily, even more so now that both resided within the same residence. Composing herself swiftly, she edged toward her desk in the corner of the room, the all too familiar chill radiating from her form without pause. Realizing how her prior questioning could have been misconstrued as charmless and rude - not entirely undeserved, mind you -, she parted her lips to speak a second later.

"You surprised me, I apologise. What can I do for you, Professor?"

"Forgive the intrusion," Minerva began, folding her hands before her as she took a few steps toward the younger woman, however halting when she noticed the brunette growing stiff with discomfort; she dared not cross that midway point. "As it would be, we've not yet had a proper meeting to go over your lessons and what plans you may have for the upcoming term."

The brunette's gaze narrowed, sensing the Headmistress had not yet finished with what else she had planned to say. She lowered herself down into her chair and leaned back into the seat, folding her arms over her chest defensively, evidently waiting for the other woman to continue. Which, of course, Minerva did so do not a moment afterward.

"I do understand that our circumstances are... Unique," Oh, how Hermione would have scoffed if she could have done so without feeling like a petulant child - Unique was a bit understated, she thought. "Although I do hope moving forward we can adopt a certain respect and understanding, move past our differences..."

"I'll have my curriculum on your desk by the end of next week, feel free to make whatever notes you see fit and drop it off at your leisure," Hermione responded flatly while beginning to busy herself with uncapping her ink well and rifling for a quill in her desk drawer, willing the interaction to end, hoping that by looking as though she had her own matters to tend to it would be just the trick to ensure that would be the case. "As for our differences..." Her tone sharpened, a rather pointed glance aimed toward the Headmistress in addition. "What's done is done, I'm in no position to waste your time with personal matters, so... Whatever it is you're planning to attempt at easing me, I assure you, there is no need."

Minerva listened intently, somewhat stunned.

"Now, if there's nothing more I can assist you with, I do have an abundance of research to contend with as I'm sure you have more pressing matters." Without waiting for the woman to respond, Hermione drew her gaze down to the pieces of parchment left upon the surface of her desk from the night before, indicating her wish to be left alone.

Finding it rather remarkable how Hermione chose to address her, how dismissive and stony the witch became in her presence, Minerva couldn't quite manage to contain the slight spark of a flame the altogether quite cool reception had ignited in her chest. She found herself unable to pick up her foot and take a step. Clearly, everything was not fine and any extended olive branch was clipped at the base, but that was not the way a proper working relationship was to work. There had to be balance.

Despite her better judgement, thoroughly unsettled by the attitude her new professor seemed keen on adopting, the Headmistress didn't make her way toward the door to relieve the woman of her company, but instead found herself taking calculated steps toward.

"Need I remind you, Miss. Granger, of who it is you are speaking to..." Minerva's tone adorned an edge of authority, one that roused the brunette to lift her gaze immediately only to note that the Scottish woman was then standing directly across from where she sat, leaving only the separation of her desk as barrier between. "I will not tolerate a member of my staff to undermine me in such a manner within these walls."

Gaze bore into gaze.

Hermione felt her temperature rising the longer she spent peering back into those emerald eyes, those eyes that were just as haunting then as they had been since the last she'd seen them. And that was enough to elicit a a slight growl.

"Need I remind you, Minerva, of who it is you are talking to..." She countered in return with a slight raise of a brow, fingertips releasing her quill to rest within its inkwell for later use.

This was not the response Minerva had anticipated upon receiving at all.

"I may be your subordinate, you may be the Headmistress of this school, but I was also, and most regrettably, your..." Plaything? Distraction? Hermione couldn't quite form the proper term on the tip of her tongue as with each that sprung to mind, the more bitter and grotesque the terminology became. "Well, fuck whatever I was, it doesn't matter, what does matter, however, is that I have every intention of doing my job and ensuring our students receive an education befitting a Hogwarts attendee. And I can easily do this without having to force myself to be cordial with you, you who has done nothing these past eight years to garner an ounce of my sympathy. Do you understand?"

If anything was to set off Minerva, it was certainly that. Hermione didn't know half of what she thought she knew. She hadn't the slightest the extent to Minerva's own suffering, how much the woman had loved her, truly loved her - at least, who she had been before agony and time dismantled the woman seated before her. Perhaps, it was high time to have it out, lay it all down, rip off the band aid and just let the pieces fall where they may. Any option was a better one than what appeared to be going on.

Whether right or wrong, something had to give.

"You have no inkling..." She finally stated quietly, but before she could finish Hermione was already rising from her chair to lean threateningly over her desk, palms meeting surface.

"Do enlighten me, Professor, I beg to hear what it is you have to tell me after all this time. If it is some apology, save it... I have no need for it." The words were nearly ground between teeth as the younger woman seethed, growing more heated by the passing of moments as old wounds were beginning to be torn wide by the length of minutes she was being forced to dwell upon the subject. She didn't need comfort, she hadn't asked for it, Minerva couldn't even attempt to scratch the surface of forgiveness when the last thing Hermione wanted was to grant the opportunity for a decent nights rest. Let her lay awake in those darkened hours, let the guilt consume her for all she cared, it was the only sweet thought that allowed Hermione some peace; knowing that the woman who'd shredded her trust and heart suffered for it long after it had been done.

Hitting wits end, the internal inferno reaching its maximum, Minerva found herself willing not to run in the opposite direction. The torment of Hermione's evident and unbridled pain nearly too much for her to bear, pain which hadn't subsided as she had hoped it to over time.

"I wanted to run after you that day, find you and tell you that I did feel it in my heart to love you as I'd never hoped to before, believing that you could not reciprocate my affection, Hermione," The words tumbled over her lips and she permitted them, the quickened syllables reaching out to stroke Hermione's disbelief, lighting that emotion in chocolate brown eyes. "As I made to leave my private chambers to find you, Rolanda stopped me, she didn't allow for me to make it through my door to seek you. And I felt she was right, anything I had to say then... I felt wouldn't be reaching and I would not have been able to bear the hurt, as I have said many times... I have made a terrible mistake."

Earnest. Minerva spilled herself to pool before her ex lover and watched emotions ignite and extinguish furiously upon the marred features opposite her own. Those lips twisted, growing grim, and she could tell by the way Hermione was pressing down upon the surface of her desk that she was exercising great restraint. Restraint for what? Minerva couldn't say. All she knew was that a storm was brewing upon that face, she nearly flt the temperature drop as a lacy flush crept up the side of Hermione's neck.

The brunette was caught somewhere between wanting to scream, wanting to cry, and wanting nothing more than to reach for her wand and hex the Scottish woman into oblivion. Revealing that Rolanda may have had some prior knowledge about what had transpired between herself and the Headmistress made her feel... Almost betrayed. Was that why she was close? Was she Minerva's spy? Was the friendship just a ploy? Trust evaporated quickly and, despite herself, even after what Minerva had declared - feelings had been shared, she may not have been crazy after all -, it did little to sooth the beast that had become her since heartbreak overpowered.

It was too much.

"Please... Get out." Unbeknownst to her, tears had begun to well within already red laced lids. If she could have seen herself she would have been livid for allowing more than control to contort features. To her dismay, Minerva didn't look about to move and leave whatsoever. Instead, horrifyingly, she watched lips part to speak once again.

"If I had known that the outcome to my blunder was that you would become so... Mistrusting and hardened, that because of my lack of action you would not be able to overcome what happened between you and I to lead a full and happy life as I had hoped you would have done, I would never have let you walk out that door... I would have kept you," Minerva watched the young woman tremble, the quivering of her lips the telling sign that she was flooded with emotion that she simply would not allow herself to reveal - before the chance to further thwart her arose, Minerva pressed on without care of consequence. "You had never been, nor will ever be, considered a whore... I did love you, I did very much. However, I was too blind to permit it. I am truly, very sorry that you ever were lead to believe otherwise..."

"GET OUT!" Thundered the brunette at once, her volume unmatched, as she grabbed her now cold mug of coffee and threw it against the stone wall, sidelong, the need to smash and to break something overwhelming, and the act itself kept her from taking hold of her wand instead.

The young professor was livid, wild eyed, and Minerva was far from finished, although she chose to give Hermione some room to breathe and to digest what words she had been gifted with. Some explanation to consider before they attempted at reconciling, which was the ultimate goal before term began. The ebony haired witch turned without another utterance and left the those quarters, a minute weight lifted from her shoulders by just having the chance to say what she had wished she had such a long time ago.

She left Hermione standing there, her body feeling as though she'd been splashed with petrol and handed a lit match, the fire of fury engulfed every inch of skin and she could hardly take those seconds of silence when the door finally closed. Her chest rose and fell quickly, she began to feel herself descend into that realm of chaos that only Minerva seemed to provoke. With all that had been said, what Hermione hadn't realized she'd been waiting to hear for so long, containing what the knowing had left her with was beyond what she could manage.

So, the woman had... In fact, loved her. Loved. Past tense. She'd managed to move on from the feeling or nullify it.

The dam broke once again and she felt herself collapse back into her chair. No amount of preparation could have shielded her against the effects of that apology. She wanted to break it down, find the lie, call her ex lover out for it but she did know the woman, even still. She knew when dishonesty was being passed between them; of which, there had been none. Not a single ounce. Hermione tried to blink away the tears but one shallow breath gave unspoken permission for them to snake down cheeks, and she leaned forward, resting her forehead against folded arms upon her desk, her body wracked with furious cries while she let it all out. Alone.

.-*HGMM*-.

"You really are a piss poor liar, Rolanda."

Seated in the staff room, the community space for faculty, Minerva reached over and poured her friend another drink, refilling her own glass afterwards. Rolanda grumbled and told her to fuck off, taking up her rye and nursing it, as Minerva replaced the bottle down between them.

"I told you... I am not the go between. Why couldn't you just let me confide in you and have that be it, god knows the poor girl's been through enough without you antagonizing her further." The grey haired witch muttered into her glass, aiming a look over rim, before tipping its contents to pour down her throat. Minerva just sighed and took up her own glass.

"I was selfish and I was irrational, and I needed Hermione to hear it. Now she has and the rest is in her court." She plainly stated with an air of nonchalance, mirroring her company and drawing her drink to her lips. "Time to move on."

At that moment, Poppy wandered into the faculty quarters and fell into a chair beside the ebony haired woman, peering between the two women and the bottle.

"Bit early in the day for a nosh, don't you think?" She piped, though she did summon a glass from the bar mantle across the room in order to join her friends in a drink.

"It's three in the afternoon on a Tuesday, dearest... Let's call it Happy Hour." The flying instructor raised her glass to the new entry with a spot of sarcasm, the corner of her mouth twitched. Minerva could only sniff in mild disdain.

"What's the occasion?" The medi-witch inquired, her curious gaze bouncing to settle upon the Headmistress who appeared less than thrilled.

"Just another day, Poppy. Nothing more." She answered with a casual glance.

"Have you seen our youngest yet, Minerva... You two were quite close. I do hope she's settling in just fine?" Attempting at making light conversation, little did Poppy know that she was touching on a subject most tender.

"She's fine."

"Oh... Well, that's good." Rolonda shot Poppy a glance and gave a short shake of the head, her pointed gaze eluding to something more for a later time. Unaware, Minerva kept her eyes trained upon the emptied fireplace. Somewhat lost in the sight of dead ash and flecks of white.

The woman fell silent.

Frankly, Minerva didn't know what the next steps were to be. She had left Hermione to her own devices for a length of time and now she knew she was having to do the same, again. Waiting was what killed her. Minerva never claimed to be a patient woman, she didn't revel in being kept in a the dark... Everyone was highly aware. But, in this case, she had no other choice. She had to allow Hermione the time it took to heal or to, at the very least, draw upon the conclusion that it wasn't her intention to truly cause her more harm. Professionally, she needed Hermione. She needed someone who possessed a great attention to detail, she needed someone who cold go above and beyond as most professors who had made a name for themselves at Hogwarts would.

Credentials aside, the woman had acquired all the knowledge she needed to in order to make a damn fine teacher. Minerva knew this. Though in matters that treaded upon the more personal, Minerva remembered her student and friend. Somehow, Hermione had managed to surpass what others had rarely attempted as though it were as simple and easy as colouring within the lines. She learned Minerva's traits, fostered the woman's care, and snuck herself deep within the skin. They had been close friends... It hadn't taken very long at all to accomplish after the war had ended.

"Do come in!" Her hands were quickly sifting through parchments, searching for on in particular; a letter from the Minister she seemed to have misplaced. She heard the door open and close, the sound of faint footsteps drawing closer, though she didn't look up from her more frantic motions with aims to seek.

"Troubled, darling?" A rich voice caught ear as arms looped loosely about middle. Humming, distracted, Minerva turned face to catch her lover's lips in a chaste kiss. Pleased by this small act of affection, Hermione gave the woman a brief squeeze before wandering off to start the kettle.

"I have lost a letter... From Kingsley. One which I wish I could find..." She called out, hearing the tap in her small kitchen spring to life. Tea... Brilliant woman. Shifting around her desk, Minerva strode to her bookcase and decided to investigate the small pile of letters there, letters she often placed in a small nook for safe keeping.

"Was that the letter from last Saturday, Minerva? The one you received during our lunch?" Hermione called back in question amongst the sounds of tea cups and saucers being sought out and placed upon the expanse of counter top.

"That would be the one..." No sign of it. Frustration was not a kind look upon the woman who thought 'I must have brought it to my office...'. "We settled on a date for our meeting but I must have forgotten to fill in my calender... I feel like I'm losing my mind, I could have sworn..." She felt a hand on her hip, guiding her to turn. She aimed a look upon the young woman who looked near laughter, her smile stretching.

"Minerva... Your meeting is at 5 in the evening, next Thursday, here..." The brunette produced the letter and gave it to her lover to be checked over. Sure enough, in Kingsley's signature lilted scrawl, 5 p.m., Thursday evening, in her office... Hermione leaned to press a small, soft kiss to the base of the woman's neck, chuckling.

"Where in Merlin's name did you find this?" A flush crept over Minerva's cheeks as her lover withdrew upon hearing the sound of the softly whistling kettle.

"In the bedroom, my darling... On the chair, under my maroon sweater, that you tossed when you had a particular craving for 'dessert'..." Hermione gifted her with the flash of a mischievous smile before once again disappearing to make up their tea. This information lit a small fire in the pit of her stomach. 'Ahhh... Now I remember...' She thought, a small smile curling the corner of her mouth.

"What would I do without you..."

Relaxed and at ease, she quickly jotted down the reminder upon her calender then strolled to find her lover; the woman with the tea. As was routine on Friday evenings, the pair had begun to spend that time quietly together, chatting about the week, reading, and sharing a cup of hot brewed drink. They slipped into a comfortable routine, somewhat like the one they had slipped into before the night Hermione had decided to make her attractions known. It still shocked the older witch every once in a while, but she couldn't help herself but to bask in the joy it brought. Not to mention the fact that Hermione could be an absolute vixen should she wish to tap into that facet of her personality. Both had endured great hardship, they deserved some peace and fun. Minerva tried not to think at what cost.

"So, I was thinking... I've become quite adept at glamours recently and I noticed that Flourish and Blott's was having some sort of event tomorrow evening, what do you say to you and I taking just a few hours and going together... No one will know, just to change things up a bit." Resting against the doorframe, leaning there, Minerva listened and watched with thinly veiled intrigue as the younger woman nearly finished up. She didn't raise her sights from the task but sensed the Headmistress, smiling.

"You want to go out to town tomorrow?" Some surprise filtered through her expression that remained otherwise collected, though Minerva felt a small pinch of uncertainty about the idea. What if they were caught? What if something happened? It was so much easier just to pretend their affair was perfectly fine and normal behind closed doors... But to go out?

"With you, yes. Just once... We could go to the book shop, go to dinner, then come straight home... No one will even know it's me." Allowing the tea to steep, the young woman turned then to approach her lover, sensing her unease. 'Please... Just once. Just a little date... Let me love you and buy you a book', Hermione thought. She'd watched the woman circle through her collection many time, knowing full well each volume had been read upwards of three times already. She wanted to do something nice, she wanted to appreciate the woman, even if just for an evening out.

"I don't know if that would be a very wise idea, dearest." The Scottish woman said at long last, reaching when her lover was near just to brush a few strands of of a curl behind her ear, leaning to press her lips to those soft, delicious, ones the brunette possessed. The vibration of a hum sounded into the kiss, Hermione's hands lightly smoothing over the green eyed woman's sides and waist. Her lips trailed to place lingering kisses along the edge of her jaw and down, paying what felt to be special attention to the gentle slope of Minerva's neck. Try as she might to suppress a groan of pleasure, when fingers curled into her hair and gave a gentle tug to guide the woman's head back, she couldn't help but to gasp.

"Please, Minerva..." An airy voice, lust laden and almost roughened, sounded just beneath her ear. Hot breath and the mix of that tone stirred the older woman - how could she possibly refuse?

It was the little things. Those short moments of affection and appreciation. The telling signs that she had been truly loved... She should have known. Hermione had worn her heart on her sleeve and Minerva had mistaken it for something far less.

She remembered that day vivedly. How the nip of Autumn swept across any skin shown to the elements, how bundled they both were on their trek to Diagon, and how closely Hermione held and, well concealed beneath a heavy glamour, still looked radiant despite looking nothing like herself. She'd managed to age herself fractionally, making it all the less aparent the true identity of the woman beneath. Much to their pleasure, no one bothered with them. They let the women live. Just for a moment, it felt like another life. One far less complicated.

By now the staff room was the place of conversation and Minerva found herself drawn to the window, peering out across the land ahead absently until speck in the distance called upon her attention. Strange how it moved, how it sped and slowed, it took a few moments realize that it must of have been someone on a broom... But no. Not a broom. It closed some distance to zip back toward the mountains, and through the sprinkling of rain, Minerva was able to conclude upon the distinct outline of a bike. Specifically, a motorcycle. There she was...

Escaping through daredevilish type feats meters and meters above ground. Minerva would have been impressed if the sight hadn't stirred a sort a queasy feeling.

Turning away from the window, she rejoined the group in hopes of fixing her mood.

Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the next day... Perhaps not even the next month or year... But just maybe they could return to the comfort of friendship. Possibly. It was a long shot. But more than lovers, they had been wonderful friends.

She could live with that.

TBC...