Chapter 18 - Insight

"No! Absolutely not! Out of the question! No way!" Harry shouted.

"You can't be serious, Hermione!"

"I'm completely serious, Ronald!"

Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose and checked his watch. The 'golden trio' had been carrying on like this since Hermione had put forward her plan and it didn't look like the debate was going to end any time soon. He began wondering if Neville had any snacks available but decided now probably wasn't an appropriate time to ask.

"I refuse to allow you to use yourself as bait!"

"Allow me?! You wait just a minute, Ron Weasley!"

"You're being ridiculous!"

"And just how else are we supposed to flush this woman out of the woodwork, Harry? Send her an engraved invitation to turn herself in?!"

"We'll think of something!"

"And while we keep thinking more and more innocent people are getting hurt!"

"Hermione, just calm down..."

"Calm down?! Harry Potter, did you honestly just..."

Neville, having held his peace all this time, finally stood, slammed his fists on the desk and roared, "ENOUGH!"

Everyone fell silent. Even Draco found himself sitting a little straighter as Neville crossed the room, picked Hermione up and sat her on the long reading table so they almost were eye to eye.

Ron glanced at the pair then whispered to Draco, "Huh. 'Bout time. Harry pay up yet?"

Luckily for them Hermione wasn't listening. She was staring at Neville who had leaned in so close that their noses were almost touching.

"Is there ANY possibility of convincing you to rethink this?"

"No. I can't take this anymore, Nev," she said, her voice cracking. "Living in fear, looking over my shoulder, wondering who might get caught in the crossfire next. I've done that for too many years and I refuse to do it any longer. I won't. Please don't ask me to."

He kissed her then rested his forehead on hers. "Okay. Then what do you need from me?"

xxx

The group worked late into the night developing various scenarios for capturing their quarry. After everyone else had left Neville gathered Hermione in his arms and held her as she mourned Margaret until they fell asleep.

The following morning he rose quietly and fixed breakfast before nudging her awake.

"Wake up, love. I've made us something to eat then you need to get ready. You're getting company."

"Company?" Hermione murmured, rubbing a bit of sleep from her eyes. "Who?"

"Can't tell you. It's a secret." Neville made a motion of locking a key over his lips.

"Nev, I'm sorry but I really don't feel like seeing anyone right now."

"You'll want to see this person. I promise."

Hermione sat up, now fully alert. "Why? Who is it? What have you done?"

"You know, for a witch with such an extensive vocabulary you seem to have a problem grasping the concept of a 'secret' now, don't you?" Neville helped her to her feet, gave her a kiss then propelled her towards the kitchen. "Eat. You'll find out soon enough."

Despite her best efforts, Neville held fast and refused to divulge any further details of Hermione's guest. An hour later there was a knock at the door and Neville rushed to reach it before Hermione did. He checked the peephole and before admitting the visitor he turned to Hermione and said, "You can fuss at me all you like later. For now, please, listen to what she has to say."

With that he opened the door to reveal Harry standing next to the still imposing presence of Minerva McGonagall. Neville greeted both of them warmly.

"Hullo, Harry. Hullo, Professor. Please, come in."

He motioned for them to enter but Harry shook his head. "I can't stay, Nev. Got a meeting with Kingsley. I can confirm the Professor's identity has been verified so she's safe to leave with Hermione."

"Thanks, mate. See you tomorrow then."

Harry gave a nod then apparated away as Neville turned to Hermione and their former professor.

"Ladies. If you'll follow me I've prepared the sitting room for you."

As they entered Hermione noticed Neville had set out tea and biscuits for them and she briefly wondered how long he had this planned.

He gestured towards the two comfy wingback chairs he'd positioned in front of the fire. "I'll leave you two alone. If you need anything, just shout."

"Thank you, Mister Longbottom. You are a most thoughtful host," Minerva said in her lilting Scottish accent. "Your Grandmother would be quite proud."

As Neville slipped from the room the women took their seats. There was a brief silence before Hermione spoke.

"It's wonderful to see you, Professor but I have to admit I'm at a bit of a loss as to why Neville asked you here today."

The older woman poured two cups of tea and offered one to Hermione who accepted it gratefully.

"It is my understanding, Miss Granger, that recent events have led to something of a crisis of conscience regarding certain decisions you made in the past. Mr. Longbottom quite rightly deduced I might possess some insight into that particular situation and felt sharing my information might prove useful to you."

Hermione fidgeted with her cup. "Did he tell you what's happened?"

"No. I possess no specifics. Other than what I just told you, I was simply made aware that one of my former students required my help. That is all I needed to know."

Hermione fought back the tear that was forming in her eye. "Thank you, Professor. I don't really know what to do. It's so awful and it's all my fault…"

"Stop right there, Miss Granger. There are very few circumstances in life that are ever entirely the fault of only one individual. Even Voldemort required the complicity of others in order to enact his plans. Trying to carry the entire world upon your shoulders is a recipe for being crushed under its weight."

"But it feels…"

"Feelings can be a wonderful thing but they can also be quite misleading. You of all people should remember the importance of reviewing the facts while assessing a situation." The elderly woman took a sip of her drink then added, "However, that being said, I know what you mean. There are many, many times – particularly during your tenure at school – when I felt something very similar to what I assume you are experiencing at this moment."

"Really? When?"

"It would be easier to list the times when I didn't feel responsible for the things that happened during those years." McGonagall gave a thin smile. "I used to pummel myself with guilt and questions. Should I have pressed Albus harder – forced him to be more forthcoming with the staff as well as with you and Mister Potter? Should I have noticed the quandary poor Severus found himself in? Should Pomona, Filius and I have banded together and more forcefully opposed the dearly departed Dolores?"

The sharpness of her tone indicated that she found the 'departed' part of the sentence her favorite thing about 'dear' Dolores Umbridge.

"Should I have more fully considered how entrusting a time turner to a young girl – no matter how brilliant and gifted – so she could further increase her already substantial scholastic workload while also keeping her rather impulsive friends alive would have impacted her physical and mental health?"

She shifted in her seat. "Then there are the faces of students that appear to me in the night. Young Colin Creevy. Cedric Diggory. Fred Weasley. So many promising lives cut short." She took a moment before continuing. "I could keep going but I fear by the time I listed all my regrets you would be far older than I am at this very moment. Suffice it to say that I know what it is like to look back and wish that one could do things differently."

"How did you get over all that?" asked Hermione.

Professor McGonagall looked at her in surprise. "Who said anything about 'getting over' it? You don't 'get over' things like that, Miss Granger. You simply learn to move past and muddle forwards."

"So how do I learn to do that? You don't know what I've done."

Hermione then began pouring out her heart. She talked about everything from the situation with her parents to regrets regarding all the lives lost during the war and finally her current predicament. She spoke for a long while but as she finished her resolve crumbled and she began to cry.

She rushed to summon a tissue to wipe her face. "I'm so sorry," she sniffed. "I wish I could be as strong as you."

"Poppycock," admonished McGonagall. "Expressing emotion isn't weakness, Miss Granger. Far from it."

"But you never..."

"Just because I never cried in front of my students does not mean it never happened. I can assure you the tears flowed freely on numerous occasions. I simply held them back whilst in public so as to not frighten my pupils. Children look to the adults around them to determine how they are supposed to react in stressful situations. Seeing me fall apart would have done nothing to reassure them. We, however, are adults. There is no need for pretense between us."

"So - what should I do now?" asked Hermione.

"You do what you have always done, Miss Granger. You get on with the task at hand. You learn whatever lessons you can from each and every experience and try to utilize that insight moving forward. You try, as best you can, to enjoy the simple pleasures in each moment because, even under the best of circumstances, life is terribly short. You look to the future which lies ahead instead of obsessing over a past that you cannot change. Lean on the people in your life that care about you. I can personally attest that there are a multitude of people that care about you very, very much, not the least of which is Mr. Longbottom."

The woman leaned forward, placing her teacup on the table between them. "But make no mistake. While these may sound like easy things to do, I assure you they are not. They are, however, the steps you must attempt if you want to experience any sort of joy in your life. And you deserve joy, Miss Granger. You. Mister Longbottom. Mister Potter. Mister Weasley. All of you. You've been through enough suffering for one lifetime."

Hermione gave a weak nod. "So have you, Professor."

"Thank you, my dear. I appreciate that." Professor McGonagall gathered her robes about her and rose gracefully from her chair. "Now, as much as I would love to stay and catch up on the less perilous aspects of your life, I'm afraid I still have a school to oversee and yet another batch of students that require constant vigilance. I do hope when things settle down a bit that we can have another visit?"

"I would like that very much," smiled Hermione.

The Professor made her way towards the door then stopped. "I hope I'm not speaking out of turn but, as you may already know, Mr. Longbottom has expressed an interest in joining us at Hogwarts during the upcoming school year as an assistant to Professor Sprout with an eye to eventually taking over that post when she retires. Is there any hope you might possibly consider pursuing a similar path? Filius has mentioned on more than one occasion his fervent wish that you might one day see fit to take his position teaching Charms."

"Really? I rather thought Professor Flitwick would be like Professor Binns and stay in his position for time immemorial."

Minerva chuckled at the mention of the deceased History of Magic Professor that had continued to show up to teach classes even after he had passed away.

"Not quite. Since I know I can trust you to keep this quiet, I'll let you in on a little secret. Filius harbors a lifelong ambition to write the definitive text on Charms. It will be a massive volume covering its history, practice and implications on other branches of magic. He toils away at it during his free time but of late he's been wanting to concentrate on the project more fully. Knowing that he would be leaving his pupils in your most capable hands would be tremendous encouragement to him. May I dare give him a glimmer of hope in that regard?"

"I-I can't think of much of anything other than my current situation right now, Professor but hopefully in the very near future I will have time to give that proposal the attention and thought that it rightfully deserves."

"He shall be elated at even the prospect of your consideration."

Just then Neville stuck his head in the door. "Sorry. Don't mean to barge in but I just wanted to check and see if either of you ladies needed anything."

"We are fine, Mr. Longbottom. I was simply telling Miss Granger that I need to get back to the school but I hope that we can visit again very soon. Perhaps next time you will join us?"

"I'd like that very much, Professor." Neville stepped into the room and gestured towards the fireplace. "Would you prefer to use our floo to return to school or shall we lift the wards so you can apparate?"

"I think, given the current circumstances, that your wards should remain firmly in place. I can open a temporary floo link to school. I promise that I shall seal it immediately upon my arrival so as to maintain your privacy as well as Miss Granger's security."

She made her way to the hearth and took a handful of floo powder. Before leaving she briefly surveyed the room then turned to face Neville. "I meant what I said before, Mr. Longbottom. Augusta would be incredibly proud of the man you have become. So would your parents."

Neville swallowed hard. "Thank you, Professor. That means a lot. Honestly."

The woman gave an almost maternal nod then cast the powder down and disappeared in a flash of green smoke.

There was a brief silence then Neville said, "I hope you don't mind me sending for her. I just thought talking with her might help somehow."

"It did. It helped very much. Thank you, Neville." Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist. "Once again, you knew exactly what to do in order to help me."

Neville rubbed her back gently. "I don't know about that but I'm glad you feel better."

"I do. I truly do." Hermione paused then looked up at him and said, "She's right you know."

"About what?"

"About your parents being proud of you."

"I'd like to think so but I'm not sure if they realize that I exist or who I am."

"I know they do."

"How could you possibly know that?" Neville asked.

Hermione stepped back and summoned her bag then pulled out a handful of candy wrapper butterflies. "Because your mother gives me one of these every time I visit."

Neville was incredibly touched that Hermione had kept the things his mother had given her but was unsure how it proved her point.

"She gives those to everyone," he said.

"No. I checked. She gives used candy wrappers to others but you and I are the only ones who get ones twisted into butterflies."

"Okay but I don't see how that..."

"When did she start giving you butterflies instead of just the wrappers?" Hermione interrupted.

"Not sure. Sixth year, I think."

"About the time you got your new wand, right? When you started feeling more in control, more confident in your magic?"

"I suppose. What's your point?"

"Your mother started giving them to me when I mentioned that I was your friend and told her stories about what a fine man you had grown into. Don't you see the connection?"

"No. Not really."

"Think of the life cycle of a butterfly, Neville. It starts off as a vulnerable little caterpillar, crawling around trying to find its way. Next it gets wrapped up in a dark, lonely place while it undergoes a transformation. Then it fights its way out of that place to spread its wings and become what it was always meant to be."

Hermione held up one of the cellophane butterflies, looking from it to Neville. "Sound familiar? Your parents, at some level, realize what you've gone through and try to acknowledge that the only way they know how."

Neville took the wrapper from her hand. He wasn't sure if he entirely believed her theory but Merlin he wanted to. He stared at it and whispered, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She gave him another hug then said, "Come on. Take a walk with me."

Before he could say anything, she hastened to add, "Here. On the grounds. I want to learn more about your gardens. Then later I'd like to make you dinner. I'm not much of a cook but I can make a mean Spaghetti Bolognese. I saw a Merlot that would pair nicely with it in the cupboard."

"Sounds lovely but what brought this on?"

"The Professor reminded me that even under the best of circumstances life is short so I've decided that I want to enjoy the pleasures in front of me right now instead of floundering about in a past that I can't change."

She grasped his shirt collar and pulled into a long, slow kiss. When they finally parted, Neville whispered, "We are definitely inviting McGonagall over more often."

"I'm onboard with that plan." Hermione smiled and took his hand. "Now, let's go outside and take advantage of this beautiful sunshine while we have it."