I'm officially at the point of feeling guilty for not updating Seeking Time, but I hope that the continuation of Bucket List will appease you for the time being. With as much thinking as is involved my "Lost Founder" saga, it's nice to write something that doesn't involve a ton of deep plot. To be continued, hope you enjoy!

UPDATE: I have no earthly idea how I skipped posting part 6 for this story, but I've just updated to INCLUDE part six. Effective 4/25/18

6. Save the Wizarding World.

Hermione Granger, fourth year Slytherin, posted a notice on the general Hogwarts bulletin board. She and her friends had just finished with Christmas break, and it was on said break that Hermione had the idea for her latest House Unity project. She had stayed at the castle over the break, despite her parents' protests, knowing that Harry was remaining to keep away from his vile muggle relatives, and none of their other friends were remaining. Harry hadn't wanted to intrude on the Weasleys per his recent arguments with Ron about the Triwizard Tournament. They'd mostly made up from the initial argument but things were still a bit tense.

So, it had been Harry and Hermione against the puzzle that was how his name had ended up in the Goblet of Fire, and neither of them were making any headway on finding leads. Prior to the break, the Quad League (the name of their growing group of friends - now including six Slytherins, eight Gryffindors, seven Ravenclaws, and five Hufflepuffs - from all four houses and three different forms) had been trying to work out the problem together. Unfortunately, half the time they would have liked to be putting serious thought into the thing was being spent with teams of two following Harry around everywhere, making sure he wasn't attacked by some of those who were violently opposed to everything supporting Harry Potter. On the up side, the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were not so subtly trying to keep Harry safe as well. The foreign students liked the Quad League. They represented everything the Triwizard Tournament did; unity in the midst of diversity.

"What on earth are you up to now, Miss Granger?"

Hermione started whistling cheerfully, ignoring the Transfiguration Professor behind her. Effective the beginning of term, she'd begun only acknowledging Minerva in private if Minerva called her by name. The older witch was struggling to recognize her attempts that a normal student and teacher relationship with Hermione was not going to fly for the fifteen year old.

"Miss Granger, all club formations must be cleared with the Headmaster," Minerva pressed. "As you are surely aware. I insist you remove that notice."

Hermione continued whistling as she pulled out her wand and cast some charms on the parchment to prevent anyone, including teachers, from removing her advert.

"Oh for the love of…!" Minerva grumbled. "Hermione, cease that at once."

Hermione turned around and offered a smile. "Oh, hello Minerva. Fancy seeing you here. I was just posting a notice of the formation of a Think Tank. It's open to students ages thirteen and up, including the visiting students."

"You need the Headmaster's approval," Minerva said again.

"Already got it," Hermione said, pointing at the man's signature at the bottom of the notice, which was right above both Headmaster Karkaroff and Headmistress Maxime's signatures. She'd covered all the bases.

Minerva frowned. "I see that now. Dare I wonder what you all plan to think about in this little group?"

"Oh, the group won't be little," the younger witch corrected. "The rest of the Quad League will join up right away, and I know of at least ten others from Hogwarts who will likely be interested, as well as a dozen or so from the other schools. I figured we'd start with trying to solve the mystery of how Harry's name got into the Goblet of Fire. You Professors don't seem to be making any headway to that end, so I figured we'd give it a shot."

"Your egotism astounds me," the Deputy Head remarked. "Or at least, it should."

"And your foul temperament astounds me," Hermione countered scathingly. She was in no mood for Minerva's attitude. She was too worried about Harry. "You should be pleased that I am doing something to protect the-boy-who-bloody-lived, especially as he's in your House."

Minerva looked ashamed of herself, and rightly so as far as Hermione was concerned. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know why but your… insolence seems to bring out the worst in me. I do think a Think Tank is a good idea. Truly. Most of your ideas are good ideas, in fact. Why do we argue like this, Hermione?"

"Because you were raised in a world where unity and peace between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin was simply not done," the younger witch theorized. "And you are a Gryffindor, and I am a Slytherin. Unlike you, I refuse to be party to such an archaic mindset."

"It's more than that, and you know it!" Mineva growled, losing her temper in frustration and shoving Hermione against the wall.

Hermione stood still, both of them breathing heavy as their bodies nearly touched. "Min…"

"Just stop!" Minerva croaked, stepping back. "Whatever you're doing to me, please just stop."

With that said, the Professor turned heel and left Hermione to cope with the fact that the physical contact had been highly arousing. Draco and Harry - Slytherin and Gryffindor - had been telling her for over a year that she was developing feelings for the Scottish witch. She had denied and denied, then admitted to a minor crush which would most certainly pass, and then claimed that the feelings were already gone by the end of their third year. Here, now, Hermione could claim an ability to deny a crush, but only because she'd realized she was in much bigger trouble than that.

She was falling in love with Minerva McGonagall.

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, and forced those horrible thoughts into the back of her mind. She had to focus. Harry was in danger, and she had recruiting to do. This thing with Minerva? That could wait. It could wait until her death bed, for all she cared. She would not accept it, even if it was obvious, and especially if it was true. She could not accept it. Not now, not ever.

At seven that evening, the Think Tank had its first meeting, which included forty-nine participants. The week after, they had nearly twice that, and by week six, they had leveled out with one hundred and thirty-seven students between the ages of thirteen and nineteen. There were nineteen Slytherins, twenty-six Gryffindors, twenty-eight Ravenclaws, twenty-four Hufflepuffs, eighteen from Durmstrang, and twenty-two from Beauxbatons.

Week eight, they struck gold and solved the mystery. Harry's name had been put in the Goblet of Fire by the Death Eater Barty Crouch Jr, who had been using Polyjuice Potion and posing as Professor Moody. He'd made the Goblet choose Harry as a fourth Champion via listing him under a fourth school name - Ilvermorny, which he'd been able to do because Harry's mum was the child of a British muggle woman, and an American muggle man. As such, Harry had been accepted to Ilvermorny just as he'd been accepted to Hogwarts, though they'd never sent a letter because he'd been living in Britain when it had come time to begin the enrollment process. Further, via some Truth Potion that Hermione had gotten from her dad, they'd discovered from Crouch that he'd been planning to fix the final task so that Harry would win, and that the Goblet of Fire inside the maze was going to be a portkey to transport him to some graveyard over in Greater Hangleton, where Harry's blood would have been used to resurrect the Dark Wizard, Voldemort.

Of course, it was still months before the Third Task, and even Hermione knew that they needed to bring the Professors into the loop at that point. She'd gone right to Dumbledore herself, followed by nine of her over-age Think Tank members, all holding wands on Crouch in armed escort.

Dumbledore had awarded Slytherin House one-hundred points for the capture, giving her all the credit, very little of which she felt she deserved. Later that night, Hermione wandered the corridors, trying not to cry. She was so angry at the Headmaster for giving the points, as it awarded one house the credit for Crouch's capture, which was contrary to everything she was trying to accomplish. All the Houses deserved credit. It had been a Gryffindor who'd brought the Marauder's Map up, which had showed them that there was a Barty Crouch in the castle when and where the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement wasn't supposed to be in the castle. It had been a Ravenclaw which suggested that Polyjuice was being used as a means to disguise the Death Eater. It had been a Slytherin - not herself - who had noticed the pattern of Professor Moody drinking from his flask just under every hour. It had been a Hufflepuff, Harry's fellow Champion Cedric Diggory, who had formulated the plan to capture Crouch to confirm their theory before going to the Headmaster. It had been a girl from Beauxbatons who had suggested Hermione get the Truth Potion from her dad, and it had been mostly Durmstrang boys who had escorted Crouch to the Head's Office. All she had done was form the damn Think Tank.

"What. An. Idiot!" Hermione moaned into the darkness, sinking to the cool floor against a wall, tears falling freely.

"The Headmaster?"

Hermione didn't even attempt to hide her pained expression from Minerva when the Scottish witch stepped out of the shadows and into the pale moonlight. "Yes. The points he awarded Slytherin will almost certainly assure us the House Cup, but it's wrong! Every house contributed, and each of the three schools. I tried to tell him that, but all he could see was that it was a Slytherin's idea to form the group that led to all the rest. If Slytherin wins the Cup, Minerva, it will discourage the other houses from contributing. No one wants to be denied due credit!"

Minerva offered her hand and helped Hermione to her feet, surprising the young Slytherin by pulling her into a gentle hug. "Albus means well. He just doesn't understand the big picture sometimes."

"I know."

"I'll walk you back to your dorm," Minerva said calmly, pulling away after a moment.

Hermione nodded in agreement as she wiped her tears away with her sleeve, for once not even desiring to argue with the older witch. The walk wasn't far, and it was made in silence. "Thank you for… I wasn't really up to an argument with you," she tried to explain when they'd arrived a few minutes later.

"I'll take a rain check on that," Minerva offered with a tense smile. "And Hermione…"

The Slytherin turned back to face the Head of Gryffindor, rather than uttering the password to her dorms as she'd been intending to do. "Yes?"

"One-hundred points from Slytherin," she said softly, looking almost tenderly at the girl she was so often at odds with, "for being out of bounds after curfew. And fifty points to Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin each… for contributing to the neutralizing of a dire threat to this school."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She launched herself into Minerva's arms and hugged her tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she muttered into her Professor's shoulder. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"I believe I have an inkling," Minerva replied, removing herself from the embrace after a moment. "But you and I are best off pretending this… moment… never happened. The whole castle would die of shock if they saw us getting along."

Hermione smirked, and after a moment of hesitation, played a very dangerous card. "I'm not sure they'd be that surprised. Half my friends already suspect the enmity between us is unresolved sexual tension."

Minerva's eyes widened at the implication. "I… uh… that is… of course that's not…"

"Goodnight, Minerva," Hermione said in a teasing tone. She turned and uttered the password to her dorm, leaving the still gaping Professor alone in the dark corridor.

7. Admit to Dad that I'm crazy about Minerva.

It was nearing the end of fifth year now, and Hermione sighed as she made her way to her dad's quarters after yet another argument with Minerva. After her bold statement toward the end of the year prior, Minerva had begun this back and forth state of nearly bipolar behavior regarding the sixteen year old Slytherin. They'd get into a fight, and then they'd engage in a perfectly civil conversation about something unrelated to school. They'd toss never reported hexes at each other, and then they'd share a long embrace over a shared hurt in the wake of Dolores Umbridge's rampage at Hogwarts. Back and forth, back and forth, and Hermione was on the verge of going insane in the process, and her feelings for the older woman were continuing to grow, despite all of it. Clearly, she was going mad.

The Think Tank, sans the foreign students from last year, was still functioning, albeit the group now included teaching themselves Defense Against the Dark Arts. It wasn't as though they were learning anything from Umbridge, and knowing what Crouch had been trying to do the year before made them all yearn to develop the skills to fight a war they were each afraid was coming.

Mind, they did still try to solve mysteries. Their obsession for the better part of this term was the locket that Umbridge always wore. Draco had recognized it as Salazar Slytherin's lost locket, and Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw, had shared that she could sense very dark magic coming from the piece of jewelry. Susan Bones of Hufflepuff had contacted her Aunt Amelia - Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement now that Bartemius Crouch had stepped down - who confirmed that certain witches and wizards could simply sense dark magic, which had been a confirmation to the rest of the group of Luna's initial statement. The Ravenclaw was rather strange, but she wasn't wrong. Luna earned a place in the inner circle of the Think Tank after that, and her now fellow Quad League member, Neville Longbottom, asked the girl out shortly after. They'd been going steady since, and Hermione now counted Luna as a friend.

Harry, her favorite Gryffindor, had contacted his godfather, Sirius Black, and gotten some good books on how to narrow down what sort of dark magic might leave a strong enough trace for a witch like Luna to sense. They'd been studying the texts for months now, and had a theory. Hermione, who was still the only one brave enough to speak with Severus Snape outside of class, had been elected to ask the Potions-Master-Who-Knew-A-Ton-About-Dark-Magic if he could confirm their theory before they took it to the Headmaster. Enough of the members of the Think Tank had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, including Hermione via her adoptive father, for them to know that Dumbledore was Head of the Order as much as he was Head of Hogwarts.

"Dad?"

"You're early," Severus commented, glancing at the clock. They usually met on Saturdays at five-thirty in the evening, but it was only four o'clock now.

"Just finished with a Think Tank meet," Hermione explained. "And I wanted to go over some stuff with you. We have a theory, and I'd like your take on it."

"Of course, I'd be happy to…"

Severus' invitation to continue speaking was cut off by his door swinging open again, and Minerva storming in with what appeared to be righteous fury on her robe tails. "Severus, I really must… oh, Miss Granger. Good afternoon."

Hermione slouched over a book, ignoring Minerva's use of formality as per usual.

Severus frowned. "Hermione, Professor McGonagall greeted you. It's poor form to…"

"You needn't bother, Severus," Minerva said with a sigh. "Apologies, Hermione. I trust your day is going better than mine?"

Hermione set down her book. "That will depend on whether or not the Think Tank's latest theory is on the mark or not. What's got you in a tizzy, Minerva?"

"For once, not you," the older witch scoffed.

"I feel like I'm missing something," Severus stated. "Hermione, I'm quite certain I taught you the respect due a Professor."

"Minerva gave me permission to address her informally outside of class, dad," Hermione explained.

"Actually, you blackmailed me into it," Minerva countered, looking almost fondly at the younger woman. "Very much the consummate Slytherin."

Severus sighed. "In any case, Minerva, what did you need?"

"Order related, and hardly urgent," the Deputy Head waved off. "I should have remembered this was your evening with Hermione - we can discuss it later."

"Very well," he nodded. "If you return at eight, I should be free by then."

"It's a date," Minerva agreed. "until then, Severus. Hermione, I shall… see you around."

"Watch your six," Hermione urged. "Umbridge is… dangerous."

The Transfiguration Professor nodded in agreement. "You as well, my dear."

And with that she was gone, Hermione was in a puddle of mush at the term of affection, and silence resounded for a few moments before Severus broke it. "What the bloody hell was that all about?"

"Er…" Hermione blushed.

Severus' eyes widened. "No, Hermione, please tell me you are not…"

"Falling in love with Minerva?" she asked softly.

He rubbed his temples. "What could you possibly be thinking?"

"I really don't think that thinking enters into the equation," Hermione grumped. "And I certainly didn't do it on purpose."

Severus huffed. "Obviously."

"What am I going to do, dad?" the sixteen year old whimpered, putting her head down on the desk. "I don't know what to do."

A low whistle came out of her pseudo father's lips. "You've got it bad, haven't you? And in true Snape form, I suspect she's it for you. You'll love her and only her for the rest of your life, even if you don't get her."

"Nice pep talk," Hermione grouched. "I was still kind of banking on it passing until you said that. I know you're not really my dad, but I'm more like you than my muggle parents, in every way. It's no wonder that no one has ever doubted your claim."

"Perhaps we should consider making it official," he mused. "After your birthday in September, there'd be nothing standing in the way."

"To what end?" Hermione inquired. "You're not one for sentiment so you must have other motivation for even offering."

Severus smirked. "Well, logically speaking, eventually I'll kick the bucket and I do not have a natural heir to inherit my worldly possessions. I'd like them to go to you, when I'm gone. Further, can you just imagine the look on Minerva's face when she realizes that getting together with you will make me her father-in-law?"

Hermione grinned. "She'll be mortified."

"Indeed," he agreed. "Which I have to say is inspiring me to assist in your wooing efforts. Presuming that's the direction you want to go."

"Well as you pointed out, she's it," the young Slytherin grumped. "Of course I'll have to woo her, because her stubborn arse won't exactly come willingly."

"First of all, you need to stop provoking her," Severus stated. "Let her process the positive moments you share without overshadowing those feelings with the boiling rage she feels when you get her knickers in a twist."

"Provoking? Knickers in a twist?" Hermione looked slyly at the Potions Master. "My, my, it sounds like my daddy is suggesting I seduce my professor, rather than woo her."

Severus paled. "No, Hermione, that is not what I said! In any case, I advocate for nothing beyond a more civil, platonic relationship for the time being. She won't thank you for compromising her career. Nor will I support such an effort. You will need to wait until at least your birthday, though ideally until after graduation."

"My birthday, certainly, but I make no promises to wait until graduation," the young witch countered. "I blame my Slytherin ambition."

"An excuse formulated with your Slytherin cunning, I'm sure," he countered. "That said, this is a topic for later. I believe you came here early to discuss something your Think Tank came up with."

Hermione nodded. "Do you recall the locket that Umbridge always wears?"

"Yes," Severus confirmed. "I feel as though I've seen it before, but I cannot seem to place it."

"We've identified it as Salazar Slytherin's lost locket," the teen explained. "And we believe that it is cursed by a bit of very dark magic. Luna Lovegood - she's a Ravenclaw a year behind me - is one of those sorts who can sense dark magic, and she says it's the darkest thing she's ever felt. She described it as though the locket was containing a broken, tortured soul. We suspect it is a horcrux."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "The fact that you even know what a horcrux is should puzzle and dismay me, but right now I'm more concerned that you may be correct. Voldemort maintains his life because of those awful things - the Headmaster has been trying to hunt them down. To think there may be one right under his nose… I will need to see him immediately. I trust your research to be sound. You wouldn't have brought this information to me if you weren't nearly sure already."

Hermione nodded, completely aware of the gravity of the situation, especially now that her dad had linked the creation of those things to Voldemort. "I won't keep you," she said, summoning a pile of parchment non verbally. "Here is our research, should you or the Headmaster wish to review it before taking any action."

He took it. "Thank you. And Hermione, whatever books you found information on horcruxes in had better be on my desk by the time I return. Texts like that have no business in the hands of a bunch of teenagers, no matter how good their intentions," he said sternly.

"Yes, sir," she agreed. While the books were informative and she was loathe to give up such a resource, Hermione did understand that tone of voice and knew better than to argue. Besides, she had an eidetic memory, and had already read them all cover to cover. If she ever needed the information, all she'd have to do was search her memory. As far as she knew, she was the only one at Hogwarts with that strong of a recall ability.

An hour later, after moving the books to her dad's study desk, Hermione had opted to take a walk down to the astronomy courtyard in hopes of finding a nice patch of sun to read a book on Arithmancy she'd recently acquired. She had just settled down and begun to flip open the book Paul had recommended when she heard Umbridge's furious voice.

"YOU!" Umbridge screeched. "The Dark Lord will rise again, and when he does, you will be the first to die!"

Hermione dropped the text and scrambled to her feet, realizing in a heartbeat that Dumbledore must have, again, given her credit for something. She was really starting to hate that man. In this instance, he'd all but painted a target on her back! On the upside, Umbridge was not alone - apparently being escorted off premises by the Deputy Head.

"Not bloody likely," Minerva stated calmly, stepping protectively in front of Hermione. "This young woman is too smart to get caught. I would know."

Hermione had been on the verge of panic, but Minerva's apparent confidence in her took the edge off. She drew her own wand to defend herself, if need be, and stepped forward to be side by side with the older witch rather than behind her. "Quite right, Minerva," she said as calmly as she could manage. "Meanwhile, would you care for some assistance in escorting this toad off the grounds? Presuming that was what you were attempting to do..."

Minerva couldn't stop herself from laughing at the description of Umbridge, and at the offer itself. "I would say that you are a student, and send you along, but you never listen to me so I won't even bother. Further, as I can personally attest to your skills in defensive, and offensive spells…"

Hermione blushed lightly at the comment, knowing perfectly well that Minerva was referring to this year's ongoing battle of the surprise hexes between them.

"... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have an extra wand while removing Madam Umbridge from our school," Minerva continued. "I do apologize on Miss Granger's behalf, madam, for the rather rude comment regarding your toad-like appearance. I have tried and failed for five years to curb Hermione's insolence, to no effect. She is almost Gryffindor in her stubborn nature, but that stubbornness has a knack for seeing infestation where others do not. She's quite effective in removing threats to those she cares for."

The Slytherin looked at the Professor curiously. "I'm trying to decide if you just defended my honor or grievously insulted me."

"Two birds, one stone," Minerva replied, offering the hint of a teasing grin. "Will you consent to follow my lead?"

"Always," Hermione agreed, breathlessly, suddenly realizing how much her relationship with Minerva was evolving much like her dad's had with Lily Evans Potter. She could only hope she was cunning enough, and brave enough, to avoid the two of them repeating history.

8. Get a Birthday Kiss.

It was September nineteenth, Hermione's birthday, and while she was certain that her friends were planning some sort of festivities, and she was fairly certain her dad's errand was at the Ministry to pick up the forms needed for him to legally adopt her, the now seventeen year old Slytherin couldn't possibly care less about any of that. Today, she had one goal, one ambition; one birthday wish that she was going to make come true even if it got her expelled.

She wanted a birthday kiss from Minerva. Even if nothing more happened until after she graduated, Hermione felt that kissing Minerva would provide her with a baseline from which to plan her ultimate seduction of the older witch. The Transfiguration Professor's response to such a blatant advance would be very telling indeed.

Of course, it wouldn't do any good if Minerva knew it was an advance, so Hermione decided she'd simply play at being intoxicated. She wouldn't actually go get sloshed - she didn't want to be giving Minerva a drunken, sloppy kiss - but she had to make Minerva believe that was all that had caused her to do such a thing. She wasn't ready for Minerva to know the truth; she wasn't ready to face rejection. Of course, she was never ready to face rejection. Hermione wanted to be liked, which is why despite the close friendship she shared with the original members of the Quad League, not one of them knew she was really muggleborn - that Severus Snape was her father only by virtue of a bond formed under unusual circumstances.

"Hey, Hermione!"

The now adult turned to face her Gryffindor friend, Harry Potter, and a small smile formed on her lips as she remembered her first impression of the young man; that he was accepting and open minded, and not one to judge. In light of everything on her mind, it seemed fortuitous that he should find her. "Hi Harry, what's up?" she asked casually.

"Not much, just wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday, and give you your present," he said. "The rest of the gang are going to give gifts later…"

"At the surprise party I'm going to pretend I'm surprised about?" she asked cheekily.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I figured you'd have sussed out that was going to happen. Ron, Draco, and Paul were all sure you'd never see it coming. Anyway, I'm sure I'll get made fun of for giving you what I'm giving you so I wanted to do it now instead of in front of those arseholes."

Hermione's curiosity was piqued. "Should I be worried?"

"Nah. Opposite of that, actually," he said, handing her a package a bit bigger than a snitch. "And that was kind of the point. You worry too much."

With a raised eyebrow, she opened the small package to discover two small vials of gold colored potion, which she was able to identify at once. "Harry, this is Liquid Luck!"

He nodded. "Now here's the make fun of Harry part. I made it. While your dad is a bit of a jerk sometimes, he's been giving me private potions tutoring for the last year and a half. He says I got the talent from my mum, and I'm planning to apprentice under him after I take my NEWTS."

"Harry that's fantastic!" she exclaimed, completely shocked to discover that her dad had been tutoring her friend on the sly. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks," he replied. "Anyhow, so end of last term I asked Snape if I could try to make Felix Felicis, and he said he'd teach me how, and if I could manage to actually do it right, he'd personally ensure I gained a Mastery in Potions - that's when talk of becoming his Apprentice came up - and he'd award Gryffindor the required points to make sure we won the House Cup. So, he taught me how, I managed to do it on my third try, and that's why Gryffindor won the Cup last year."

"Harry, I think the Slytherins are rubbing off on you," she deadpanned, knowing how it would affect him.

As expected, her friend looked horrified. Some things would never change. He cleared his throat. "That low blow aside, one vial is for today - so you can have a perfect birthday - and the other is for the time of your choosing. Given what all we get up to, and stupid Voldemort and his continuing attempts to return, I figured you'd know when you needed the extra luck."

"You are the best friend a girl could ever hope for," she said thankfully, uncorking one of the vials. "Well, bottoms up!"

Harry grinned as she downed the potion.

Hermione grinned even wider a moment later, when said potion kicked in, and she realized that the type of carefree she was currently feeling would most certainly make her appear a bit drunk to Minerva. "Harry, I am going to go snog Minerva."

Harry's eyes widened."You're going to what?!

Hermione was on cloud nine and the very concept of being afraid of judgment was lost to her. "Minerva? Our Transfiguration Professor? The love of my life? I'm going to go snog her to find out if maybe she'd be open to that sort of thing with me, you know, more snogging after graduation."

"I know who you're talking about 'Mione," Harry groaned. "I was just a bit shocked to learn you still felt that way about her. You said it was a crush, back in third year, and that it passed."

"I lied," she said, apologetic. "I was afraid you and the others would make fun of me, and I've worked really hard to fit in."

"Listen up Granger," Harry said sternly. "You are quite possibly the most popular girl in school. You have no reason to be insecure about fitting in. Even the Professors love you! Except McGonagall, which probably blows considering how you feel about her. Sorry about that."

"How can everyone love me? I lie every single day. My housemates would murder me if they learned…"

Harry frowned. "Hermione, we've all known for ages there's something big you hide from us. Bigger than even liking McGonagall. We don't know what, but me and the others, we made a promise years back that no matter what it turned out to be, no matter when it came out and why, and no matter what reasons you had for keeping your secret… we'd love and support you anyway. You don't do things without reasons, Hermione, and I don't think this secret is an exception to the rule."

Hermione plopped on the ground, and Harry joined her. "You really mean that?"

"Of course,' he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "If you want to talk about it, I promise I won't make you tell the others if you don't want. I just want to be here for you."

"I'm muggleborn," she whispered after a ridiculously brief pause. She could feel the Liquid Luck urging her to open up to Harry. It was telling her he'd understand. "First muggleborn to be sorted to Slytherin in over a century. Professor Snape was concerned I'd be bullied or worse if the rest of the Slytherins knew, so he offered to pretend to be my dad. Funny part is, while neither of us expected it, by pretending to be father and daughter, we became father and daughter. I love him just as much as I do my muggle dad."

Harry let out a long sigh. "Well, I can understand why you two would do this. Who else knows?"

"Just the Headmaster and Minerva."

"Explains why you were drawn to her," Harry mused. "She was one of the only people who you never had to pretend for. For as much as you two bicker, you are unfailingly honest with each other, albeit sometimes in a brutal and scary kind of way that makes everyone a bit scared to be in the same room with the both of you."

She nodded. "Which is probably why it bothers me so much that I haven't told her I'm in love with her. I've never had to lie to her, not really, and I find that I outright hate doing it!"

"Well I wouldn't tell her yet," Harry advised. "After graduation, for sure."

"That's what dad thinks, too."

"Smart guy, your dad."

Hermione grinned, the Liquid Luck pressing her to go on with her day. "Harry, I adore you but your birthday gift is telling me I have somewhere to be. I have to go now."

Harry looked amused. "Where are you off to?"

"No idea!" she called back to him, as she was already trotting down the corridor: destination unknown.

As it turned out, Hermione was on her way to Greenhouse Four, where Minerva happened to be. It was unusual for the Transfiguration Professor to be down at the greenhouses. Sprout rarely asked for favors and otherwise, Minerva had never seemed particularly interested. "Whatcha doing?" the young Slytherin inquired, smiling brightly.

The older witch turned, startled. "Hermione, you surprised me. What are you doing here?"

"I asked you first!" Hermione said gleefully.

Minerva frowned, and peered at her student over her glasses. "Miss Granger, are you drunk?"

Hermione gasped. "I'd never do that! I have control issues, you know."

"Never say never," Minerva muttered, looking amused. "It's tempting, I must admit, to take advantage of your intoxicated state and try and get some reasonable explanation for your unruly behavior over the years."

"Well why don't you?" Hermione asked."Why resist the temptation to take… advantage of me?"

"You're incorrigible," the older witch stated, "but despite myself I find I've actually grown… accustomed to you and these days, I tend to just enjoy the banter and not bother with the question of why."

"Well that's just silly," Hermione countered, pulling out her wand and summoning a cluster of mistletoe which, while not quite in season yet, would serve to further her goal of getting a birthday kiss. She levitated the berried plant in the air just above where they were standing. "Don't you want to know why I just put mistletoe above us? I'm sure you know what it means."

"I do know what it means," Minerva confirmed, "though I really, really do not want to know why you'd...uh...why you'd want to…"

"Snog you?"

"Yes."

"Because I can," Hermione said with a shrug, lurching forward and pressing her lips to her Professor's.

She could only credit the Liquid Luck coursing through her system that Minerva did not back away at once and slap her. Hermione sighed happily as the kiss was hesitantly returned for a short while, before the Deputy Head's lust addled brain cleared enough for her to realize what she was doing and with whom. "Oh for the love of Merlin!" Minerva gasped, pulling away.

Plus side, Hermione still had not gotten slapped. "That was divine," she muttered happily.

"Are you out of your bloody mind?!"

"Hey!" Hermione defended herself. "You kissed me back, you know."

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

"Did not! Why on earth would I kiss you?" the older woman spat. "You have done nothing in going on six years but be a thorn in my side, Hermione Granger!"

Hermione knew, somewhere in her mind, she should feel hurt by that comment, but the Liquid Luck was telling her it was a lie and to not take offence. "But you still kissed me back," she replied, matter-of-fact.

Minerva sighed, leaning against a table with a look of defeat. "We can't, Hermione. Even if I wanted to, you are my student. The banter between us already crosses lines that any Headmaster other than Albus would never stand for. Even he would not support..."

Hermione moved forward again, pressing her body against Minerva's, watching for a moment - faces inches apart - as the other woman breathed heavily, conflict obvious in her pained expression. "Min…" she whispered.

"Stop," the Scottish witch pleaded weakly. "For the love of Merlin, just stop."

The young Slytherin, however, had just enough Gryffindor in her not to be deterred by the obviously half hearted request. "Why?" she asked softly, leaning forward just enough so that their noses touched briefly.

Minerva hesitated for another half a second, before she weaved her fingers into Hermione's curly hair all in a rush, and initiated a second kiss. This time, it was anything but gentle, and Hermione returned the kiss with equal vigor. Now, they were outright snogging, and above that, their bodies were pressed firmly against each other, hands wandering as each attempted to bring them closer together.

A few minutes passed, before the older witch abruptly pushed her student away, rough and hard. Hermione noticed at once that Minerva was crying now, taking only a moment to wipe the evidence off her face and storm toward the door. "Hermione," she said before she walked out, "you are everything I shouldn't want, and I hate you. I hate what you are doing to me, I hate that a part of me wants it, but most of all, I hate that this is a game to you. A game which I am quite through playing. Stay away from me, Granger."

"It's not a game," Hermione whispered to the empty greenhouse a minute later. "You're breaking my heart as surely as I seem to be breaking yours."

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