Chapter 28

Laughter had long since subsided and exhaustion, emotional and physical, set in shortly thereafter. On top of the covers, the young woman held the ebony haired witch, back to chest, and Hermione drifted into slumber with her faze nuzzled against the nape of Minerva's neck. It was a dreamless and deep sleep. She so rarely had rest like that. More often her nights were interrupted by imagination drudging up older memories. This was like heaven, or something like that.

Having fallen asleep so terribly early, it really wasn't much of a surprise when consciousness intervened and her eyes began to open only to see darkness. She felt the woman in her arms breathing deeply, unflinching, and had to assume the woman was still fast asleep. A craving began to present itself, not an unusual craving, but still it became less and less bearable as those quiet minutes drew on. Softly, she lifted her head from the pillow and pressed a featherlight kiss to her lover's shoulder. Gently peeling herself away, hoping that the green eyed woman would remain soundlessly asleep, Hermione slipped her arm out from beneath the pillow her lover's head rested upon. As it would be, she did manage. She quietly got out of bed and tread softly to the guest bedroom. With aim not to wake Minerva, she found some underwear and a sports bra to slip on with ease, then turned to her side table. Apprehension settled in.

Delicate fingers hooked the drawer and opened it, revealing a number of loose items for her to view. Squinting through the darkness she found a paper pack and a box of matches. She grabbed her wand from where she had left it on the side table hours before, before she had ventured to see Rolanda for her near daily physical therapy, then turned to leave that bedroom behind and crept through their quarters into the kitchen.

The room wasn't a large room, in fact, it was rather small. Almost as though an afterthought, it was a long rectangular space where counters and cupboards lined one wall and more counters, sink, gas stove, and small cold box lined the other. At its end was a large window and that was where Hermione continued to silently wander until she could open it wide and let the cool air in. Now that the end of November had found its way, snow flakes fell upon the towers, and blanketed the grounds. She had always loved the snow. Some of the fondest memories were of Hogwarts at Christmas, especially during her last year of school when she remained one of the few who didn't venture back to a family home, rather, spent the Christmas morning with the Weasley's only to return in the evening to continue research with Minerva. It was one of the most relaxed Christmas days she'd had in her adult life. Since then, Christmas had always been almost stressful, highly dreaded, and an event to quickly begin and end just to get it out of the way.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she laid down her pack of cigarettes and matches on the window sill and shook out her long hair. With her mind wandering back to the woman who lay sleeping in bed, she withdrew her wand from the place it had been held beneath the chest strap of her bra and gave it a flick, lighting a few dim lamps on the counter. As flames licked wicks within their glass domes, she laid down her wand and turned back to the window with a sigh, reaching to withdraw a cigarette and a match, sparking the thin wood. Sulfur filled her nostrils and she cupped the flame, drawing it to the tip of her cigarette.

"You're up early…"

The brunette jumped, her body half turning towards the kitchen doorway with a lit match in her hand and an unlit smoke hanging from her lips. Gaze fell upon the Headmistress standing there, leaning against the frame, her hands tying her robe. Hermione paused. If she was caught… Then she was caught, she thought.

"I guess that's what happens when you go to bed mid-evening." She replied softly, cigarette bobbing between her lips before she turned back to the window in time to light it with the flame edging closer to the tip of her thumb and index. A hum filled the silence behind her. She tossed the match out the window and leaned against its frame, peering out at the large flakes falling as far as the eye could see.

"I thought I had smelled tobacco on you, but it hasn't been for some time," The voice grew louder as the woman drew closer, until Hermione felt the warmth of a hand on her hip. Minerva didn't sound upset in any form, her tone was calm, thoughtful. "When did you start?" Oh, the joys of being partnered with an animagus...

"Nineteen, I think… Eighteen maybe… It wasn't long after I graduated." She replied through the plume of smoke snaking from between her lips. Much to her astonishment, the hand on her stomach drew toward the cigarette in her hand and lightly pinched it above the filter, taking it from her. She tilted her head to witness the ebony haired witch mirror the same act. Hermione's brow rose, her gaze questioning. Emerald eyes caught her expression and Minerva parted her lips to speak.

"It won't be a surprise to you that Poppy was a very poor example in post-secondary." Poppy… Hermione had to smirk. It was, actually, a strange realization for her to consider the fact that Poppy… Medi-Witch Extraordinair, tight lipped, law abiding Poppy would ever smoke a cigarette. Despite the smoke lacing their breath, as Minerva handed her back the stick of tobacco between her fingers, Hermione tilted her head and kissed the corner of Minerva's lips.

Silence enveloped the women who stood by the window. One cigarette turned into two, their sharing continued, until Minerva turned to her fridge and withdrew a bottle of wine. Hermione declined but didn't mind the taste of aged, spiced grape on her lover's tongue. She didn't trust herself, not with wine or liquor, not yet.

"I need to tell you something that I don't know you'll want to hear, darling." Through the dim light of the kitchen, she saw Minerva raise a brow in response, her gaze briefly leaving the wine glass she was filling to glance at the woman sitting on the window sill, a cigarette held aloft. Hermione's features displayed nothing that would indicate regret or disappointment, which eased her. Still, she questioned the calm.

"What is it?" Asked the ebony haired witch, the wine bottle meeting oak with a light tap.

"If I ever find any evidence of that woman on you again," Fingers flicked finished smoke out the window and hands settled on the wood grain on either side of the brunette's thighs. "I will kill her and make it look like an accident, she had no right to touch you without permission."

Minerva stilled as she eyed the woman. The young woman she had known, opposed to the woman who sat there then, if the same words had been spoken, she wouldn't have believed. Now this woman, who's eyes bore only the purest of sincerity, she was nothing but serious on the matter. A glint of jealousy still shone through the darkened room and caused butterflies, butterflies that felt more like sparrows, to begin circling in Minerva's stomach.

"I don't remember you being so possessive with me…"

"I never thought I had reason," Hermione replied without skipping a beat. "I meant what I said yesterday… I don't do halfway, in these walls, we are us… You were waiting for me, I was waiting for you, and that landed us in a very strange place… Now your waiting is over and I am telling you - If you think that you really want this, and me, then I need you to tell me that this is what you want.."

Having spent so much time floating around the topic, and each other, without touching, Hermione could see that Minerva was equally as exhausted by the invisible buffer they had created between them. They lived together well, they fought, debated, conversed, and paid thoughtful attention to one another. Over the past month, there could be no denying that experimentation had paid greatly. But it wasn't a relationship. It wasn't a union or a commitment. It was an unspoken arrangement from the night they had discussed it, which led to a day where Hermione finally let the layers of her protection begin to be pulled back, one at a time.

Minerva took up her second glass of wine and turned, leaning, against the counter. Pondering, she drew it to her lips while the brunette watched on with interest.

"I think you should gather your things from your quarters and we should consider renovation if that is the case…" The Headmistress finally replied before taking a sip from the glass in her hand, her eyes trained over the rim at the woman who appeared to freeze on the spot. Tanned features grew unreadable and she began to wonder what had caused the change. She wondered if her heart could survive the consistent transitions between relaxed thumping and feverish, intense beating that occurred every time the brunette seemed to be struck.

Hermione's mind raced. Move in? As in, share quarters permanently? Wouldn't that have been a rather bold move? An air of anxiety surrounded the brunette and travelled like an airborne infection.

"Minerva, my dear, wouldn't moving in on a permanent basis be rather forthcoming, or obvious? It would cause question…"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Confusion clipped her words. That look that she had become accustomed to seeing over the past month and a bit since Kingsley's trial flooded Hermione's features. She clammed up once more. Minerva placed down her wine glass on the counter and closed the distance between them, her hands lifting to rest on the sides of the woman's neck. She felt Hermoine's own hands rest on her sides, gripping the fabric there. Minerva waited for an answer.

"I'm absolutely petrified, and I don't get scared by much," Hermione ventured to state, unable to ignore the look about emerald eyes, which was pleading for some sort of concrete understanding. "You see, Miss. Blanchett looks like the sort of woman who you would take up with, even her credentials are… Very highly regarded now…"

"You're still questioning this, questioning my level of commitment here?" What a far throw from hours before when she allowed for Hermione to have her way, the confidence and the strong will to claim and be claimed was dashed in the moment when raised question of their immediate future presented itself. It was a stark contrast.

"No, no… Not that, darling, and it's even very little to do with the woman herself," Clarified the brunette who immediately raised a hand to lay it atop one that rested against her neck to lift it enough to turn her face against its palm, placing a kiss there, before continuing. "I'm worried that you will be questioned on your choice of partner… I fear that because people won't view me as suitable for you that they'll… be unkind toward you."

"What is it exactly that you mean?" Minerva's hands cupped Hermione's cheeks and drew her face upward, her eyes casting a proper look over her features to determine the less masked expression. Hermione chewed on the inside corner of her mouth, the words playing on her tongue tasting like vinegar, sour and unappetizing.

"I'm worried that people will think that you've chosen someone less deserving of you, and that, darling, will pose a problem for us both… Especially if the details of the Minister's trial become public, then my business will also be made public, and what will people consider about me then?" Pausing for a beat, Minerva gently ran her thumbs over the apples of Hermione's cheeks. It was something that she hadn't thought about, the trial, at least. She had more important things to be worried by, like trying to get their life back to normal. And here her lover was, worrying about what other people would think, not because of the difference of age, their foundation of when, how, where their romance had started, or their positions, really… But of what people would think when they stood side by side. Hermione had grown insecure. She imagined that she had a hand in it with how they had tried to conduct their personal business over the last weeks.

"I thought no one cared about who I fucked but me, dearest." A quiet snort filled the room, Hermione shook her head, surprisingly unfazed by how her words had come back to bite her in a moment of real fear. Of course, Minerva had brilliant memory in times like this, despite herself Hermione could feel herself begin to almost relax.

"I need to be prepared for something like that, I want it… I would love nothing more than to live with you, and be in this without feeling like I'm aiding in a mistake that you are making… I love you so fiercely… But I would like to wait until after Christmas, and maybe until after that damned woman is no longer needed, so I can start regaining some of my bearings here." Taking a moment to take in what the younger witch was explaining, Minerva, eventually, bowed her head in a nod. It was a fair ask, considering the newness of their developments. They had no reason to rush, really… In their private rooms, they were what they had wanted to become and could live gladly with that. But the more the advancements were made, the more Minerva was able to set aside her own concern and feel she was ready to take on whatever life threw, as long as Hermione was ready to take on the task as well.

Too much time had been spent apart, that wasted time began to feel like a fifteen pound weight in the pit of her stomach. She could be made so unbelievably happy, finally find herself at peace, but Hermione needed to be presented with the same scenario. And she needed to believe in it with the same conviction. She wasn't ready. It wasn't something Minerva had expected, it seemingly came out of nowhere, but her lover was a guarded person. Her emotions could be so concealed, the overlapping curtains could only be peeled back one at a time. She was complex. It was like rediscovering the woman beneath the armour all over again.

"I understand you, I accept you, and we will wait." Replied the Scottish witch with the ghost of a smile tugging the corners of her mouth as she saw the relief wash over the tanned features below her own. Hermione finally rose from the window sill where she had been leaning, seated, and drew the older woman close, her arms embracing her lover firmly. Her mind was a minefield. She needed to so carefully take steps and learn the paths, each bomb presenting her with a what if that her foot falls would have to combat with a then I will do this to avoid the explosion threatening to tear her limb from limb. She needed to prepare for any of the numerous scenarios she could concoct. It didn't feel unnecessary. Not when your partner and lover was the Headmistress of Hogwarts school.

"We have a staff meeting this morning at 6… If we go back to bed now, we can still manage a few more hours of sleep." Hermione murmured against Minerva's shoulder, punctuated by a kiss to the side of her neck.

"You're going to be joining us? Finally?"

"I think it's about time."

_~*HGMM*~_

They did manage to sleep for a few short hours before they had to get up and get dressed for the day. The women moved around their bedroom and the bathroom as though they had done the dance many times before, only occasionally, a lingering moment of mutual affection was taken when opportunity presented itself. It did take Minerva by surprise, however, when she felt a hand give her ass a none too delicate thwap with an open palm as she bent down to tie her heeled boot. The emerald eyed witch turned her head to witness the brunette wandering shirtless into their room for a blouse, failing to mask a wide smirk by biting her lower lip. Minerva couldn't help but wear a similar look. She'd never been spanked… At least, not in adult life and certainly not by Hermione.

"That is not the way you greet your Headmistress in the morning." She called as the figure retreated into the bedroom briefly, unable to deflect the notes of humor in her own tone.

"Luckily for me," Hermione called back, stepping out into their living room a few seconds later while buttoning her blouse. "In these rooms you aren't my Headmistress… And I'll do with that arse of yours what I so please."

"Such brazen disregard for authority." Minerva tutted, but the smile that pulled at her lips was unmistakable.

"Oh, I know… It's too bad you can't take away House Points, isn't it?" Chuckled the brunette whilst she tucked her shirt down into her charcoal trousers before grabbing her leather jacket off the back of the couch, pulling it on, then releasing her hair from under her collar.

"Ready?" Minerva asked, straightening and smoothing the fabric of her own shirt over her abdomen.

"After you, darling." Hermione replied, reaching for the door handle to open so that Minerva could lead them onward. A brief kiss and they were out the door, down the stairs, and wandering down the corridor. Hermione kept her distance still, but it was no longer a discomfort. There was a place where she could have Minerva close. She could reach for her when she needed which was fairly often. And she could easily live with that.

The women chit chatted along their way about nothing of importance, eventually, their little two person group became three as Rolanda met them at the juncture of two corridors, then Filius appeared and greeted them. It almost felt normal. He greeted Hermione warmly and was openly glad to see she was doing well, he expressed his concern and his hopes that she was doing just fine, considering it had been some time since she had ventured into the teachers lounge or joined them for meals. He eyed her leg as she walked, her limp apparent, but clearly not holding her back from keeping in stride. She explained that it had been a drastic injury, but with Rolanda and Poppy's assistance, was getting much more manageable. The look on Rolanda's face as Hermione explained her involvement was nothing but sheer pride. She had done marvelous work. Hermione wouldn't have known what she would have done without her.

The small group entered into the teacher's lounge to see the remainder of the faculty already there and pouring coffee or tea, passing scones, and discussing lightly. Among them was the red headed witch who seemed vaguely disinterested in attempts at morning conversation, until she saw Minerva. Blue eyes bounced from the Headmistress from the across the room to Hermione. Hermione played it off easily, especially when her fellow staff noted her arrival. A fair few - in the forms of Hagrid, Sprout, Vector, Binns, and Trelawny - ventured forward to properly greet their lost member of staff.

It was overwhelming. Pomona gave her a great hug and sniffed as though she was holding back a few small tears, it was like being greeted by your favorite aunt who hadn't seen you over the summer. They briefly conversed and Hermione was taken to the table with her fellows, relief mixed with appreciation flooded her, even as she was sat next to her replacement who gave a tight smile and airy good morning, evidently affected by the kindness she had been afforded simply for showing up. Hermione was well liked. She could have even possibly been loved. As Minerva had stated from the beginning, they were a tightly knit group. There could be no denying that, when you were a part of faculty at Hogwarts school, it was a dysfunctional family of sorts.

"Thank you professors for meeting so early… Let us begin with mid winter reports." Announced the Headmistress as she took her seat with a cup of tea in hand.

Down the line they went, describing wins and pain points, growing pains, really… A few students showed great promise across the board while a few floundered, as was customary of the school year, it was typical for First Years to just be learning their footing, while their furthered classmates in years six and seven were beginning to consider possible post-secondary placements. Hermione listened, interestedly. It was like she was beginning all over again from scratch. She had had such a brief introduction before being whisked away on Ministry business. Now she was in the throws of academia once again and it was such a welcome change. She found she lived for it.

Augustine's report was less than stellar. The woman appeared to have only vague notions of what the goings on were in her class, utilizing the excuse of the barbaric curriculum that she was forced to deal with and not having had a grasp of the students from day one. Hermione eyed her suspiciously but said nothing of the woman's critiques. Of course, she didn't have to. As a brief look toward Trelawny put her mind at ease when the woman returned her glance with rolled eyes, magnified behind the lenses of her thick glasses. The brunette found herself giving a soft snort of laughter.

"Of course, if zer is anysing Granger vould like to add, it seems she's apt to interrupt me." Clearly irritated by the brunette, Augustine raised a manicured eyebrow and aimed a heated glance at the woman who wore a good natured smile beside her. Hermione raised a hand to her mouth to make it appear as though she was briefly, delicately wiping her lips but it did nothing to erase the smirk that settled there.

"If my curriculum is too advanced for you, Miss. Blanchett, I would be glad to take over for you if Poppy will clear it… And then you'll be free to return to your idle pen pushing." A smile that Minerva hadn't seen for some time graced those lips, a cheshire like smirk that only clung to one corner of Hermione's mouth. A squeak emitted from across the table but when Hermione looked, Filius was being elbowed by Rolanda who was evidently trying to deflect the small man's humor.

"Idle pen pushing? You insult me…" Quiet encompassed the table as the exchange drew underway. Minerva was caught for a moment, her stilled tongue not entirely sure how to navigate between the two strong willed women who, evidently, were about to start a row. Hermione leaned back in her chair, relaxed. Her arms drew to fold loosely over her chest as she tilted her head and peered at the woman who sat poker straight beside her.

"You, my dear, insult our students by your evident lack of paying close enough attention to the quality of their education… A baboon could have given that report while waving a banana, where there should have been details… You gave excuses, so please… Spare me your indignance." Hermione wasn't wrong. She knew she wasn't wrong. Still, it was a rather harsh statement to be made despite her voice not carrying with it anger, resentment, or clear disdain. Before Minerva could put an end to their little spat and give Hermione a slight reprimand for her outspoken deduction, Poppy cleared her throat and interjected.

"To motion to Hermione's previous statement, Headmistress…"

Many pairs of eyes bounced to the Medi-witch who addressed their employer who sat stiffly, torn between duty and personal opinion.

"She has made great improvements to her injury, she could return to work on a part time basis within her class, but they would need to share the duty… As much as I would love to tell you," Poppy turned and leaned forward to address Hermione down the length of the table. "That you could return full time, Rolanda and I have determined that your initial reinstatement would require you to take some more time off, but that doesn't mean you can't teach some days of the week."

Hermione's gaze met Poppy's and for a moment lingered, before her eyes shifted to gaze down at Minerva who appeared to be pondering it, herself. As much as Hermione truly would have enjoyed taking over full time, she wasn't about to do more harm and risk not being able to teach at all. If it meant working with the ginger viper beside her, she could make it work… Or simply lock her away in a cupboard somewhere to spend the rest of her days… Either or.

"I object to zis… It's absurd."

"I'm afraid that isn't your decision to make, Miss. Blanchett," Minerva announced, her tone regaining some of that severity that Hermione had come to recognize when her lover became mostly business, and little heart. "Professor Granger, do you feel you can adequately work with Miss. Blanchett, work out your schedules and routines, to benefit your class?"

The brunette took a moment to consider it, or, at least, appeared to take a moment to consider it, despite her mind already having been made. Peering past the author at the Headmistress, she finally gave her head a short nod.

"Of course, it is my duty to this school after all to ensure our students are provided with the best form of education… If that means on a part time basis until I can achieve full time reinstatement, I will work with Augustine to find a solution that works for us both… If she is willing to participate." A questioning look was passed and the red headed woman pursed her lips. She wasn't having it. But, much to Hermione's astonishment, the woman relented and adorned herself with a sickly, smooth smile.

"As you wish, Minerva… I vill try to appeal to zis woman and see if ve can… Make it verk," Deep blue eyes aimed a glance back at the brunette as the woman's voice dropped low, quiet, like a whisper. "Bezides, it'll give me ze spare time to pursue ze pleasures the castle has to offer."

"Marvelous, then, with this settled, you will meet tomorrow evening to re-configure your schedules. Let's move on, shall we?" And again professors began to finish the last of their reporting, leaving Hermione to sit and try to concentrate while wondering what in the world that was supposed to mean. She would broach it with Minerva later, but for now… She had the prospect of work. Work she really needed to return to. That was a plus.

TBC...