Reservations

by pagesix

Hermione has been absent from the UK for 12 years. She returns for a new job and, hopefully, a new life. Way off post-war canon.

"I have reservations."

All eyes turned to Minerva McGonagall, Head Mistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry when her voice cut through the current discussion around the conference table, silencing the entire faculty.

After a moment of consideration, Filius Flitwick cleared his throat and questioned, "Reservations? But we are discussing Hermione Granger…"

"I am aware, Filius."

"But, it's Hermione, Minerva. She is probably the most qualified person for this position. She is a tri-master with honors in Transfiguration."

"And that is part of the problem. She is highly overqualified."

"Tosh!" Rolanda Hooch spat in annoyance. "The girl would be a breath of fresh air in this dreary citadel."

"We do not need excitement, Rolanda. We need a capable, reliable instructor for a volatile subject."

Neville Longbottom, professor of Herbology and contemporary of Hermione Granger thoughtfully interjected, "What are your other concerns, Minerva?"

Put on the spot, Minerva pursed her lips in annoyance as she tried to quickly form a plausible list of potential obstacles.

"Australia?" She began, with a voice full of contempt.

"The Mundaring Academy of Magic is a highly reputable institution, Minerva." Pamona Sprout soothed. "They have turned out a number of eminent scholars, both witches and wizards."

Minerva flashed a resentful glare at Pamona and scrambled for more evidence.

"I question her reliability."

"Her reliability." Filius repeated his voice flat and incredulous.

"Yes, her reliability. She just ran off to Australia on a whim, deserting all manner of relationships and obligations."

As the words left her mouth, Minerva knew she was drifting into danger. Changing tactics, she landed on a valid consideration.

"What of her soundness? She could be suffering from post-traumatic stress and we have no way of knowing. What if she suffers night terrors or flashbacks? What if she is triggered by something during a class and lashes out? Children could get hurt."

Neville protectively countered that point. "Hermione is the sanest and most stable one of us. She is the one responsible for keeping Harry on his quest, the one who solidified the 'golden trio' and pushed them to succeed. And she is the one who sat by you at your sickbed, willing you to heal. I don't think you need to question her mental stability." Blowing out a breath of frustration, he calmly continued, "But, I'm sure if you are forthright with her and address this subject honestly, she would most likely agree to an examination, or perhaps attend recommended therapy sessions to alleviate your apprehension."

Minerva considered Neville's argument as she observed the reactions of all the others at the table. With a single, definitive nod she agreed. "Very well. As it is your inclination to admit Miss Granger into our association, I will offer her a probationary position as Transfiguration professor. If she agrees, as Mr. Longbottom believes she will, to the conditions of an initial examination and guidance sessions through her novitiate."

Dear Ms. Granger,

I am pleased to inform you the board of governors of the Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry wish to offer you a professorship position in Transfiguration for the 2011-2012 school year.

Be advised, due to a scarcity of employment history, there will be certain conditions required of you. If you do wish to pursue this role, I will be available to meet with you prior to your final decision to discuss the stipulations. .

Please respond by 6 July with your intent to accept .

Sincerely,

M. McGonagall

Headmistress,, Hogwarts.

Hermione read the letter thirty times. The handwriting was definitely Minerva McGonagall's but the message felt remarkably cold. After pondering the note over a glass of wine she decided to place a fire call to Harry Potter; friend, confidant, and comrade in arms. With a flick of her hand, she ignited the floo network and placed her call.

"Harry? Are you available?"

"Hermione, what's the matter?"

"Are you free for a quick meeting?"

"When?"

"Now?"

"Um, yeah. Sure."

Hermione emerged from the fireplace, brushing soot from her clothes as she stepped into his den.

"So? What's wrong?" Harry questioned.

"This." Hermione handed the letter over. "What do you make of it?"

"You've been offered the professorship. Good work, 'Mione."

"Not the subject." Hermione sighed in exasperation, "the tone."

"Oh, well…seems typical of Professor McGonagall."

"Do you think, Harry. I mean, really?"

At Harry's blank expression, Hermione continued.

"Don't you think it sounds a little cold from a teacher to a favored student?"

"Well, it is a professional correspondence. Maybe she's just trying to keep it above board."

"Maybe. Anyway, I'll need to reply to arrange a meeting." Hermione plopped down into an overstuffed chair and glanced at Harry from under her bangs, "So, What's for dinner?"

Harry grinned at his friend. "I knew there was an ulterior motive." He laughed. "Good thing I already told Ginny you were headed over. She's set your place. Come on."

After Hermione sent her agreement she received a missive with a date and time for a meeting with Professor Flitwick. Puzzled by the mystery developing in her mind regarding Minerva backing out of a personal reunion, Hermione acknowledged the appointment and began to prepare herself and her résumé.

On the day of the interview, Hermione waited until the last possible minute and then apparated as close to the front gate of Hogwarts as was physically possible.

Filius was already waiting for her and swung the gate open with flair.

"Miss Granger, how marvelous to see you again."

"Professor Flitwick, a pleasure as always." Hermione smiled warmly at her former teacher.

"Come along. This is a formality that will be more tolerable with a cuppa and some macaroons that Pamona brought back from Paris."

"Oh, delightful."

"I hear congratulations are in order."

"Why is that?"

"Tri-Mastery with honors? Quite the accomplishment."

"Thank you. I did work rather hard."

"I'm certain you did. And in only six years, I am told. Have you done any work?"

"I have been working. Using my knowledge as best I can."

"Research, perhaps?"

"No. I got tired of the laboratory setting. I needed fresh air."

"Ah. Well, here we are." Filius held the door to his office open for Hermione. Please, make yourself at home."

Once settled together on a small couch near the fireplace, a hot cup of tea and macaroons in hand, Filius directed the discussion to the ordered topic.

"So, Hermione, you would like to return as a professor. Any particular reason you wish to engage in this particular profession?"

"Would it be overly sentimental for me to say I wish to come home?"

"Not at all. I would confess that most of us feel the same. But isn't there a more exciting life you would rather pursue?"

"Professor…"

"Please, Filius."

"Right. Filius…I think I have experienced enough adventure to last a lifetime during my last stay here at Hogwarts."

Filius laughed heartily at that. "Indeed you have."

"But seriously, Filius, I feel a need to return to my roots and take some time sharing my knowledge and abilities with our future. If I can help guide a mini-me to some level of competency in the craft and maybe get one or two students to follow a favorable path… It may be selfish, but I'd be here for me as much as the students."

"Honest reply, my dear. We all were quite thrilled to see your name among the applicants. There were a few concerns. I know you will understand that due to your absence these past years there were some questions that arose with the board of governors. I must inform you, this position is dependent on you accepting an interview with a counselor and potentially attending scheduled therapy sessions if deemed necessary."

Hermione did not react to the disclosure so Filius continued.

"Not one of us believes you are in need however, the posting is contingent on your acceptance of these restrictions." Filius waited patiently for Hermione to process.

"Right. Counseling. Because I may have lost the plot after the war. Very good. When do I start?"

"You're alright with it?"

"I want the job, so…" Hermione stood, signaling she was finished with the meeting. "Is there anything else I need to be made aware of? Will I be appointed a security guard? Locked up at eight o'clock every night? Disallowed entry to the library's restricted section?"

"No, no. Nothing that extreme. As I have said, we expect the interview alone will relieve the board of any and all concerns."

"Right. Well Filius," Hermione moved to the office door, impatiently tugging it open. "It was lovely to see you again. I'll await an owl bearing further directions, shall I?"

"Yes, yes. I will report to the headmistress post haste, and we will get all that onerous paperwork taken care of quick as a wink."

"Excellent. Thank you for your time. Shall I see myself out?"

"If you wish."

Hermione and Filius headed off in opposite directions. As soon as Hermione stepped foot beyond the front gate she disapparated.

"Hermione! What happened?" Ginny opened the door to find her best friend with a red faced scowl.

Striding past Ginny and directly to the liquor cabinet, Hermione poured a double firewhisky and slammed back a large swallow before answering.

"The freaking board of governors thinks I'm barmy. They won't proffer a contract unless I get my head examined by a shrink."

"Can they do that?"

"Apparently." Hermione huffed. After a second swallow of liquor she added, "Maybe I shouldn't bother. I can find something else to do."

"But its Hogwarts…"

"I know." Hermione groaned. "Best laid plans…"

"So, sit an interview. You're obviously the sanest one of all of us. One visit and Bob's your uncle…"

"It's an embarrassment. Harry and Ron never had to go through any hoops. The ministry just took them in with open arms. They didn't even finish their education, for Merlin's sake."

"It's probably just patriarchal misogyny."

"Right?" Hermione immediately agreed. "But, what about Minerva? Wouldn't you think she would have fought it?"

"You'd think. But, she is always fighting with the board and ministry about something stupid. Maybe it was a compromise for something else more important."

"Yeah. Maybe." Knocking back the remainder of her drink, Hermione glanced around. "Where's Harry?"

"He actually took James and Albus to the park."

"I always knew he'd be a smashing dad."

"Do you want to wait for him?"

"Can't. Things to do."

"Right. See you at Sunday dinner?"

"Sure thing." Thanks for the refreshment." Hermione grinned.

"Any time. See ya."

The owl arrived only two days after Hermione's meeting with Filius. An addendum requiring her initialing outlined the expectations for her to get mental health clearance. The board of governors even took it upon itself to arrange for the counselor Hermione was to meet.

She signed the final page and summoned an owl. Watching the grey bird fly off, Hermione wondered if she was doing the right thing. Was it a wise idea to return to the school or would it prove to be an unmitigated cock-up? She decided time would tell and opted to have an early night.

Hermione arrived early for her scheduled session with Dr. Lorenz Fuchs, preeminent head shrinker and infamous chauvinist. The office door swung open to allow entrance from the small reception area and a gruff "Come" resounded through the air.

Hermione entered the office, taking in the overtones of masculinity in the décor. Dark woods, leather, and stone gave the room a heavy quality that made it difficult for Hermione to breath. She waited until the good doctor directed her to the seat across from his own. Trying desperately to not give off physical signs of her indifference, Hermione settled on the edge of the uncomfortable leather chair and directed her full attention to the man across the desk.

"Miss Granger, I am told we must evaluate your suitability for a position at Hogwarts."

"So I've been told."

"There are certain questions that need to be answered; your honesty and forthrightness will get us through this session directly."

"I didn't realize an individual's mental health was a matter of expedients."

"Yes, well, this is obviously just a formality. I am sure we can illuminate any shadows from your past and declare you sound of mind. Now, would you care to explain why you made the choice to leave England after the war?"

"I went to meet up with my parents in Australia." Hermione left off the 'obviously' that was sitting on the tip of her tongue.

"Ah. Right. Your parents. And what are they doing in Australia?"

"They moved there to get away from the danger of the war."

"And?"

"And I wanted to spend time with them?"

"But why university?"

"Mundaring Academy offers one of the best programs in Transfiguration. The rest of their curricula are also well rounded and challenging. It met all my personal requirements for mastery education."

"I understand you completed three separate mastery degrees in only six years. Isn't that rather extreme pressure to put on one's self?"

"I perform best under pressure."

"But surely you found it taxing."

"Not nearly as taxing as fighting a war."

"Why would you say that?" Fuchs asked overenthusiastically.

"Because it's true." Hermione answered flatly, rolling her eyes at the asinine absurdity.

"Did the war have a direct effect on your decision to seek multiple mastery qualifications?"

"No."

"What did spur you on?"

"I have an innate thirst for knowledge."

"It was not a desire to better prepare yourself for defense against dark magic?"

"Some talents are more useful than others."

"Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. Quite the wealth of knowledge. Mastery in any one of those would make you a witch to respect. But the trifecta would, well that would demand a certain reverence."

"Are you trying to imply that I am a concern because the governors and ministry fear me, Dr. Fuchs?"

"Not at all."

"Hmmm, it kind of sounded that way."

"How does that make you feel?"

"Amused."

Hermione's eyebrow lifted in curiosity as the balding man in front of her jotted notes in his ledger.

"So why did you stay away for so long?"

"Again…my parents."

"Did you hold a job while in Australia?"

"I worked at a muggle primary school."

"Ah, that would explain the lack of work history on your CV."

"Except that I included it in my résumé."

"Yes, but that does not transcribe equally."

"So I am discovering."

"Why return now?"

"I wanted to come home."

"Wouldn't your home be where your parents reside?"

"Not necessarily. I can visit them when I like, but I no longer need to be living with my parents. That's sort of a side effect of growing up into an adult."

"Why Hogwarts? Why not a job with the ministry, like your chums."

"My 'chums' are in the auror department. That is not a position I ever coveted. My preference is to make a difference guiding our youth through their education. I wish to pass on my affinity for education."

"How did you learn of the opening at Hogwarts?"

"Harry told me."

"Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Yeah, you know, my 'chum'."

After entering a few more notations, Dr. Fuchs made another whiplash inducing change of topic. "Do you suffer night terrors?"

"Yes. Much less often than immediately after the end of the war, but I do."

"Have you ever lashed out magically from them?"

"No. I wake up in a sweat crying or screaming. You know… normal stuff."

"Do you blame anyone for the role you were forced to play during the war?"

"No. There is no one to blame but Tom Riddle."

"You do not hold Harry Potter accountable for placing the responsibility of saving the wizarding world in your hands?"

"I don't believe he did that. It was purely chance and circumstance that brought us together and bonded us in the struggles. We were kids. We did what we thought was right at the time."

"Do you feel the professors at Hogwarts failed in their obligations to you?"

"They taught us everything we knew of magic. How is that failing?"

"The year you were off with Mr. Potter, hunting horcruxes, did you not believe certain professors neglected you, leaving you on your own without aid?"

"The professors were doing what they knew how to do. They kept Hogwarts intact and protected all the students. Not one of them could have taken the time or risk involved to help us in any discernable measure. We knew our task was ours alone. We neither expected nor wanted any of the professors to jeopardize their position or lives. So, no, I do not hold any one of them responsible in any way that I wandered the countryside with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley searching for a way to end the war."

"You are being considered for a temporary position. What will you choose to do when the year is completed and the full time professor returns from her maternity leave?"

"I expect I will try to find another teaching position. I do have the flexibility to return to the muggle school systems."

Checking the hourglass on the corner of his desk, Fuchs jotted a final note in his book and closed it decisively.

"Right, well, that's our time Miss. Granger. I will send my recommendations on. Thank you for your candor. Good day."

Hermione left the office angry at the colossal waste of time. She disapparated the moment the office door closed behind her.

Ginny laughed when she heard Hermione's grumbling from the kitchen. Checking that her daughter Lily was busy with her pile of toys she forged bravely into the brewing storm of Hermione's exasperation.

"What an absolute waste. I have never encountered such an incompetent, ineffective, inept ignoramus in my entire life. Trust the board of governors to find the absolute worst head shrinker in the universe to interview me. Merlin's beard, I won't be able to get a job cleaning thestral stalls after that imbecile writes his report."

"Here, 'Mione." Ginny handed over a tall glass of firewhisky. "You can stay the night if you need." She offered brightly.

"Ta, Gin. Is Harry around?'

"He'll be home in about ten. You want to stay for dinner?"

"You don't mind?"

"Do I ever? Of course you can stay. And help."

"You're on. What do I need to chop?"

"Not sure you should handle a knife in this frame of mind. You can set the table and pour the wine."

"Fair enough."

Harry arrived as predicted and Hermione lit into him before he could remove his tie.

"You said there wouldn't be any problem, Harry. You told me it would be a shoe in."

"Yeah, well…I had no idea someone would label your file cautionary. Who did you piss off?"

"No one. I haven't even spoken to anyone but you guys in twelve years. I mean what the hell?"

"You don't know the report will be bad."

"I do know the man is an imbecile."

"We'll fix it if we need to. But I still bet you'll get in. Don't worry."

` "In the meantime, have another drink." Ginny proposed.

The summer flew by and Hermione once again found herself at the front gates of her primary alma mater. Moving her possessions was easy enough with a charmed handbag. A number of years earlier she replaced her old beaded bag with a leather messenger bag which she carried over her shoulder as she pushed through the wrought iron.

She continued warily along the pathway to the school, ill at ease from the absence of an appointed escort. Considering her evaluation was questionable at best, she assumed she would be monitored in some way at all times while at Hogwarts.

Her official letter of acceptance had arrived with her contract three weeks after her interview. Signing the contract also agreed to the concession of attending therapy sessions at least once weekly for 'progressive anger management'. Hermione agreed on the provision she would be allowed to find her own therapist.

Stepping through the front door of Hogwarts into the entrance hall was an enchanting experience. The memories that flooded Hermione's vision knocked the breath out of her lungs. The stillness of the castle was somehow both eerie and peaceful. Slowly turning in place, Hermione allowed her eyes to inventory the changes to the building. Repairs had returned the interminable bastion to its former glory, yet there was a subtle shift in the potentiality of the structure. A cloak of melancholy settled around her shoulders, making her yearn for the first moment she encountered all that was Hogwarts.

"Hermione, you are here." Filius Flitwick announced trough the charged air.

"Hello Filius." Hermione cheerfully replied. "It's good to see you again."

"And you, Professor Granger."

"Oh, please." Hermione laughed, shrugging off the last of the gloom invading her soul.

"This way. I'll take you to your rooms, let you get settled."

They made their way to the familiar rooms of the transfiguration professor. Hermione stood in the middle of the sitting room and let her eyes wander. There was nothing left of Professor McGonagall within the apartment, yet Hermione could feel the woman's presence in every stone.

"Dinner will be at seven tonight. Not everyone is here yet, but we still have meals in the great hall. I hope you don't mind the formalities."

"Not at all. I prefer to schedule my time around a specific timetable. Thank you, Filius. I will see you at dinner."

For four days Hermione worked tirelessly to prepare her class plans for the semester. She needed to organize and inventory her supply closet and acquire anything that was lacking. She realized that during the entire preface to the students' arrival, Minerva was never to be seen. The headmistress' seat remained empty at every meal and Hermione did not so much as receive a welcome note from the absent woman.

When she dwelled on the situation, Hermione would get chills of foreboding. Minerva's absence felt too familiar, pulling at memories of the often astray professor Dumbledore. It wasn't until the students had arrived and the first years were led to the great hall for the sorting ceremony that Minerva finally appeared.

Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away from the indomitable headmistress. The noteworthy witch did not look like she aged a day since Hermione had last seen her. Minerva's presence was as austere and powerful as ever. Her green eyes were aglow with perceptive intelligence, never missing a beat. Dressed in textured emerald green dress robes with a tartan sash over her left shoulder she easily carried an air of prestige.

"Beautiful" sighed past Hermione's lips.

"What's that dear?" Pamona Sprout asked.

"What? Oh...uh, nothing."

Hermione was so distracted hoping to catch Minerva's eye that she nearly missed her introduction as the new transfiguration professor. The fact that Minerva did not acknowledge her presence on a personal level or even glance in her direction tore at Hermione's soul. Half way through the first course, Minerva leaned in close to Filius to whisper something in his ear and then left the feast, leaving a gobsmacked Hermione in her wake.

Hermione numbly returned to her rooms after the feast, leaving the other professors and prefects to get the students to their proper dorms. Once cloistered in her apartment, she turned to a bottle of firewhisky to help counter the burning in her heart. Hurt and confused by Minerva's indifference, the aggrieved witch sought solace in her dreams, leaving the puzzle that was Minerva for another day.

Hermione took to teaching like a duck to water. Her notoriety helped capture her students' attention, but her passion for the subject and her natural respect for every individual in her care sparked fierce allegiance from each of them. The days rolled by without incident, but on Friday, Hermione received a message during her last class of the day.

I expect you will not forget your responsibility this weekend.

Hermione angrily shredded the note and torched it in the bin. She had not forgotten her Saturday afternoon appointment with her new therapist. The frostiness of the overbearing note got Hermione's hackles up and her reaction startled a couple of the first years.

"I am sorry for my outburst." Hermione offered contritely. "That was rather childish of me, and I do apologize."

A few of the students giggled at her confession of being childish. Smiling warmly she allowed, "It's a few minutes early, but why don't we call it a day? Just remember to finish chapter two for Monday's class."

The class dispersed energetically, bodies banging through the door and tripping over their feet. Hermione had to smile in spite of her own turmoil. Gazing back at the pile of ash in the bin, she gathered her books and slammed through the back room door to her office. She tossed her robes onto her desk and escaped the limiting confines of Hogwarts. She was free until dinner and she took advantage of the break. As soon as her feet touched beyond the security wards, she diapparated.

Harry greeted her at the front door begging her to keep her voice down.

"Ginny's asleep and Lily's finally settled."

"Oh, sorry. I kind of forgot Lily isn't feeling well." Hermione apologized meekly.

"No worries. What brings you here unannounced?"

"It's stupid. I should go."

"No, 'Mione, it's alright. What's going on?"

"Minerva has been completely ignoring me until this afternoon when she decided to 'remind' me of my mind probing appointment tomorrow."

"So…what did you want from me?"

"Explain it to me so I don't go back and throttle her."

"I guess she's been real busy. And I suppose she doesn't want you to miss your appointment because that would give the governors a reason to fire you."

"They want to fire me?" Hermione squeaked.

"I don't know. It's just what I came up with. No one knows why Minerva does anything. But it seems plausible."

Hermione ran through the excuse again. "Hm. Maybe. But I don't get it, Harry. Why is she being so distant? She hasn't so much as offered a 'welcome back' or 'how have you been'."

"That, my friend, is a question for Minerva. In the meantime, deal with you anger through your therapy sessions." He teased sarcastically.

"Boil your head." Hermione tossed back.

"You want to stay to see Ginny?"

"I do, but I can't. I have to be back for dinner so I don't get detention." Hermione laughed.

"Right. So, see you on Sunday?"

"As always. Thanks, Harry."

"Anytime. See ya." Harry waved as Hermione disapparated again.

The new therapist's office was in London. Hermione travelled via floo network through the ministry and caught a cab to the nondescript office near Charing Cross Hospital. Arriving fifteen minutes early, Hermione waited patiently in the airy anteroom. She jumped when she heard a feminine voice call her name.

"Hermione?"

"Yes."

"Hi. I'm Sarika Bakshi. It's nice to meet you."

Hermione grasped the offered hand, taking in the woman standing in front of her. A stocky woman with merry brown eyes and a friendly open smile greeted her. "Hello. Good to meet you, too."

"Please, come in." Sarika led Hermione into her office.

Hermione appreciated how the space was diametrically opposed to Dr. Fuchs' place. A soft, calming color palate felt homey. The comfortable furniture was welcoming and arranged to create a safe space for conversation. A sigh of relief blew past Hermione's lips.

"Please, have a seat."

Hermione relaxed back into the deep cushions of the couch.

"So, what brings you here today?"

"I'm here to work on my anger, as ordered by the board of governors."

"Ah, yes. And where are you on an anger scale of one to ten?"

"With the board? A solid ten."

"How about in general. Where are you in your day to day life?"

"I don't know."

"Well, do you find yourself losing your temper multiple times a day?"

"No."

"Once a day?"

"Nah."

"Weekly?"

"Honestly? Rarely. Normal daily life doesn't bother me. I'm loving the job and the kids. I'm really having an enjoyable experience."

"Do you find yourself getting irritated or annoyed?"

"Generally or specifically?"

"What's getting under your skin?"

"The headmistress is completely avoiding me."

"The headmistress…of?"

"Hogwarts."

"Minerva McGonagall is avoiding you?"

"Yes!"

"Can you explain this in more detail for me so I might get a point of reference?"

"Right. So, back when I was in school, I was considered her favorite. She mentored me, gave me individual guidance, hell, she even gave me a time-turner to help with my studies. Everyone knew she held me in special standing. But now…"

"What about now?"

"She hasn't even said hello to me." Hermione's voice broke as she tried to quell a sudden overflow of tears.

"I find that difficult to believe. She is known as someone who stands on decorum."

"I know." Hermione cried. "That makes it even worse."

"Hermione, am I wrong in assuming you graduated a while ago?"

"1999" Hermione confirmed.

"Where have you been since then?"

"I moved to Australia to be near my parents." She wiped her eyes dry.

"When did you return?"

"This past June."

"You have been gone for over a decade?"

"Yeah."

"Did you have a disagreement or falling out with Professor McGonagall during that time?"

"No. How could I? I never even spoke to her."

"You never…?"

"No."

"Correspondence?"

"No."

"You didn't contact her at all?"

"Why would I?"

"Was she not your friend?"

"She was my professor. What professor keeps in touch with their students?"

"Let's set this aside for a while. Is there anything else that is bothering you of late?"

"No."

"How are you sleeping?"

Hermione stared at Sarika, processing the turn in strategy.

"I… don't sleep very well."

"Night terrors?"

"Sometimes."

"Is there a particular dream that haunts you?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"No. I really don't want to talk about it."

"Ok. That's fine. How has your social life been since your return?"

"Good. I mean, quite. I see Harry and Ginny every week. I get together with some other friends from school. I work with Neville Longbottom at Hogwarts."

"Harry and Ginny? Is that Harry Potter?"

"Yeah, and his wife, Ginny Weasley."

"Weasley. Wasn't there a Weasley tied to you during your years at Hogwarts?"

"Ron. He and I don't see each other much. Sometimes at Harry's."

"Why is that?"

"We drifted apart."

"When you left?"

"Before. We were kind of together for a very brief time after the war. But, we were so not meant to be together. Every day became a battle. We called it quits before we could make a huge mistake."

"Was it your decision to distance yourself from him?"

"Not directly. He stopped coming around. He pulled away from me. But it all worked out. He's married and has a couple of kids now."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I'm happy for him. Truly."

"So, Harry and Ronald are both married with children. Have you had any relationships since that period of your life?"

"Of course I have."

"How long did your most serious relationship last?"

"I think… eight months."

"Ok. Hermione, why do you think you were mandated to get anger management counseling?"

"I can only surmise because Dr. Fuchs is an idiot."

Sarika smirked at that response. "Besides that. Was there anything you said or did in your interview with him that would flag you as being hostile?"

"I can't lie. I was pretty hostile. The man just pressed my buttons. I felt it was a total waste of my time to be in that interview. So, I may have been reluctant to work with him."

"Did you tell Minerva you were leaving for Australia?"

"No." Hermione was knocked off balance with the sudden change in direction.

"I think we can end here for today. Will you return next week?"

"I don't think I have a choice. Until you sign off on me, I have to continue to keep my job."

"Excellent. I will see you next Saturday. Same time?"

"I guess."

"Very well."

Sarika stood to show Hermione out. "Oh, by the way, you can floo from here. The waiting room fireplace is connected to the ministry. Have a good week, Hermione."

"Thank you. You too."

"So, how's the new inquisitor?" Ginny teased when Hermione arrived for their weekly dinner.

"So much better. She actually seems interested in my answers. We'll see how it goes."

"How are your classes?"

"They are amazing. Oh my god, Ginny, I am having such a great time. The kids are so curious and open. Even the six and seven years seem to be willing to learn something. It seems so different from when we were students."

"Yeah, well, these kids aren't fighting for their lives during study hall."

"True that." Hermione laughed. "Where's Harry?"

"Last minute Quidditch game at the Burrow."

"Oh. You didn't stay here to wait for me, did you?"

"Nope. Stayed with Lily. She's better but not over the cold."

"Will he be back for dinner?"

"Since these games usually end with a celebratory drink or six, I don't expect him."

"Well, then. Girls' night." Hermione squealed.

The evening with Ginny helped to reset Hermione for the upcoming school week. The tiny wounds Sarika had inevitably picked open with her innocent questions had Hermione feeling apprehensive. The laughter shared with one of her dearest friends soothed the ache and tamped her boiling emotions down to a gentle simmer.

The week of classes and grading kept Hermione distracted. By the time she was heading off to bed each night, she was too exhausted to even be haunted by her nightmares. By Friday afternoon, she was more than ready for a hot bath and a glass of wine. Moments before last bell chimed, a folded parchment appeared on the corner of her desk. Eyeing it warily, Hermione left it until the last student closed the classroom door, leaving her alone.

Fingering the note open, she blew out a sigh of relief and frustration. As her eyes absorbed the written words, a shiver ran down her spine. She wondered at the dual sense of cold and heat that pulsed through her veins as both anticipation and apprehension struggled for dominance as her fingers traced over the familiar handwriting.

Please join me for tea this afternoon. I will expect you at 5:00.

Appreciating the fact there was no reasonable excuse to decline; Hermione jotted a note of consent and sent it off, sealing her fate for the evening.

As the clock approached the top of the hour, Hermione decided to play it safe and donned her teaching robes. She had no idea what Minerva's agenda was, but she decided going for casual was probably not the most prudent choice to make.

At exactly five o'clock the heavy oak door slid open, allowing entrance. Hermione was presented with the imposing figure of Minerva McGonagall in her most dangerous capacity. The woman was dressed in formal robes, her usually sparkling green eyes were hard and shuttered against emotion, and the deep scowl across her brow announced she would tolerate no jocularity.

"Miss Granger, thank you for accepting my invitation."

Hermione's back stiffened at the cold formalities. "Thank you for asking, Headmistress."

"Please, do come in." Minerva swept a hand out, allowing Hermione access to her rooms.

Hermione stepped gingerly past the inimical witch and briefly surveyed the office set up. The chairs she fondly remembered using for refuge years ago as a child were set in front of the large fireplace, a chess board on display between them. The prominent mahogany desk monopolized the center of the room but allowed room for two straight backed Hepplewhite chairs for occupational visitors. Under the grand window, a small wrought iron café table with matching metal chairs was arranged with a tea set and tray of biscuits.

Hermione arched an eyebrow in astonishment. The dichotomy of the welcoming tea against the forbidding solidity of the cold iron was an intent not lost in translation. Despite proper etiquette, Minerva McGonagall was obviously pissed off.

"Please, have a seat." Minerva offered coolly.

Hermione planted her bum on the unforgiving seat and waited in the uncomfortable silence as Minerva played hostess.

Once Minerva settled across from her, Hermione decided to open the conversation.

"I see ginger newts are still your preference."

"I do prefer some things in my life to remain constant."

"I appreciate the consideration."

"I assure you, Miss Granger, I will afford you the same courtesy you have given me."

Hermione studied Minerva's eyes, trying valiantly to discern all that Minerva was not verbalizing. After a few moments of awkward stillness, Minerva continued.

"I choose to have tea with my members of staff individually to ascertain how everyone is faring with their responsibilities. Perhaps determine if any adjustments need to be made."

"I see." Hermione reservedly acknowledged

Minerva waited impatiently for the younger woman to continue, but no supplementary discussion was offered.

"Well?" Minerva's voice cut to the quick.

"What, specifically would you like to know?"

"How are you managing with your classes?"

"Oh, ummm…fine. Very well, actually."

"The students are behaving?"

"Oh,yes. They have been the epitome of respect."

Minerva eyed Hermione like she was trying to catch her in a lie. With a nod of acceptance, she continued, "Are you having any difficulties with your nights on duty?"

"No. It's only once a week and coffee helps me through on the day after."

"You drink coffee now?"

"Oh yes. Like a drug."

"Hmpf." Minerva grimaced in distaste. The familiar pursing of the woman's lips lured a wistful smile across Hermione's visage.

"Is there anything you need from me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's inner voice screamed in her head, "Yes! Please, forgive me for whatever I did to anger you. Please let me back in." But the words formed by her teeth and tongue betrayed her heart and simply said, "No, thank you Headmistress. For now, everything is satisfactory."

"Very well. Shall I see you out?"

"Oh," Hermione flinched. "No, thank you. I can find my way." She stood and turned away from the woman who had long ago offered friendship and comfort, but who now left her adrift.

Hermione arrived for her second appointment thirty minutes early due to her anxiety. When Sarika allowed her in, she dropped into the couch and covered her eyes with her hands, hiding from the world.

"Goodness. What happened to you this week?"

"I got my wish." Hermione moaned.

"Explain?"

"The headmistress had me for tea yesterday."

"Well, there you go. All is right."

"No, all is wrong. She definitely hates me."

"I doubt that. What happened?"

"She was cold and unemotional. Even in the midst of battle, you could feel her passion and devotion to everyone she fought beside. But last night she was walled off. There was no feeling of warmth or empathy, just ice."

"But she didn't fire you or hex you."

"That is a bright side, I guess."

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened the last year of the war, when you didn't return to school?"

Hermione eyed the counselor warily before letting go with a sigh and telling her story, from the attack on the Burrow to the end of the final battle. Two hours and four cups of tea later, she wiped a stray tear from her cheek and waited for judgment.

"The scars on your arm…?"

"I covered them." Hermione admitted guardedly. Pulling her sleeve up she showed Sarika her forearm. "I found an amazing artist in Perth. She designed it from an idea I had."

"That's beautiful, Hermione." Sarika absently reached out to stroke the tattoo image of a cat vigilantly safeguarding Hermione's torment.

Hermione weakly smiled, drawing in a shaking breath.

"What happened after the final battle before you left?"

"We cleaned up." Hermione stated mechanically.

"Who did?"

"All of us. Everyone involved in the battle. Well, most of us. Some went after the last of the death eaters."

"Who did you work with, primarily?"

"The Weasleys, mostly."

"Did you work with Minerva?"

"No. I hardly ever saw her. She was pulled in so many different directions overseeing the work. I doubt she ever slept."

"And when did you leave for Australia?"

"Oh, I stayed to complete my last year and take my N.E.W.T.S."

"During that year, did you have time to see Minerva?"

"Not really. They brought in a new transfiguration instructor since she was now headmistress. We would see her at dinner sometimes, but she was usually knee deep with repairs or off butting heads with the ministry about something or other."

"So you took your exams…"

"Yeah. I actually sat for them a few months early. Then I headed off to find my parents."

"Find them? Didn't you know where they were?"

"Not exactly. Remember, I sent them away after I obliviated their memories. They had no idea they had a daughter to keep apprised of their whereabouts."

"So what happened when you found them?"

"I felt the need to stay close to them after everything, so I applied to Mundaring Academy. After a couple of years and with some help, I was able to replace their memories. And then I had a lot of explaining to do."

"Did they return to England?"

"No. They're still in Australia. They decided they really like the weather down under, so…"

"Why did you return?'

"I…" Hermione struggled. "I…needed to."

"Needed? Why?"

"I felt lost."

Sarika studied Hermione in silence for a while. Finally, making a decision, she clapped her hands together and then rubbed her palms along her thighs. "Ok. Here's what I think."

Hermione glanced up, surprised at the bright smile facing her.

"I am going to sign off on those stupid forms for the board, but I would like it if you would continue to come in."

"Really?" Hermione hoped.

"I do not find any evidence that you are out of control or that you are a danger to the children placed in your care. But I do feel that there are some issues you could use my help with."

"I won't deny that. Even just having a safe place to talk…"

"Exactly. So, are you agreeable?"

"Yes." Hermione suddenly felt a heavy weight lift from her chest.

"Excellent. Now, I don't need you to come in every week. Would you think once a month?"

"I'd like to try that."

"Is there anything you would like to bring up before you go?"

Hermione hesitated but shook her head in denial. "Nah, nothing that can't wait a week or two."

Sarika studied the young woman before permitting the obvious ruse. "Very well. I'll let you off, for now. But, only because of all we covered today." She smiled benevolently. "I will see you in a month, unless something comes up and you need to come in sooner."

"Thank you, Doc."

"Oh, get over…" Sarika laughed.

Life settled into a routine for Hermione; for the most part. Teaching kept her enthusiastically busy during the weeks and on weekends she continued her Sunday visits with the Potters. Saturdays she filled her time most often with grading papers and updating her syllabus.

As time whittled away the month of October, the atmosphere in the school adopted a level of excitement not witnessed for many years. For the first time in over a half century, Hogwarts was going to host a Halloween ball. The week before the event, Hermione had increasing difficulty wrangling her students into scholarly submission. Thankfully, the only casualty was a burrowing owl that ended up with a teapot for a head. Hermione's reflexes saved the little bird from catastrophic breakage and the student responsible gave up three points from Hufflepuff house.

The fête itself was a wondrous affair. The great hall was decked out in laughably spooky effects, but the food was delectable and the music was inspiring. The guest list was rather encompassing, reaching well past the school walls. Families of students, ministry employees, and even some connected muggles were invited. There were so many attendees; the great hall had to be adjusted with an extension charm to have room to dance.

Hermione settled in at a table full of her friends. A conversation with Neville was interrupted by the entrance of the Headmistress.

All eyes turned to appreciate the rarity of her presence at such an event. Foregoing her usual Celtic green Minerva was dressed in Gryffindor red dress robes with gold trim and a golden lion brooch clasped at her throat. Her hair was done up in a softer style, giving her a more approachable presence. More surprising than her dress was the fact she opted to fully partake in the festivities.

As Minerva was observed willingly accompanying Kingsley Shaklebolt onto the dance floor Neville leaned close to Hermione to explain, "She never does this. Normally, if attendance is unavoidable, she dresses in her most conservative garb, has one drink and is out the door in twenty minutes."

"Hey, what d'ya think old McGonagall is drinking tonight? She never dances." Ron guffawed.

"She's not old." Hermione reflexively admonished.

"Something changed. I've never seen her so…animated." Ginny added.

While everyone was busy watching Minerva, Harry was watching Hermione. He made note of the dejected shadow across her brow and the somber downturn of her mouth as her contemplative eyes followed Minerva across the floor.

Ginny caught the concern in Harry's eyes and questioned, "What's the matter?'

"Nothing."

"Harry, what's going on?"

"Just a feeling. I'll tell you later."

"Don't think I'll forget."

"I'm sure you'll remind me." Harry laughed, leaving Hermione to mourn in peace.

A number of dances and even more drinks later, Harry decided to grill Hermione about her therapy sessions.

"So? Have you been deemed certifiable?"

"Ha, not even" Hermine tossed out easily. "I've been declassified from dangerous sociopath to harmless loon."

"They signed off on you? No more sessions?" Harry pushed, distracted by Kingsley twirling Minerva.

"Papers were signed last month. Now I just go for my own interests."

"That was total rot." Neville drunkenly swore. He leveled his unfocused slightly drunken eyes on Hermione and divulged disdainfully, "You know, it was her that flagged you."

"I'm sorry?" Hermione demanded clarification.

"Yeah. McGonagall. Despite me standing up for you. She said she had 'reservations'. She was worried you had PTSD or something."

"It was Minerva? Not the board?"

"The board backed her up on it, but yeah, it was all her."

A virtual storm cloud spun around Hermione's head as her brown eyes flashed with lightning. The barometric pressure nosedived around the table causing Harry to turn his attention back to his mates.

"What? What happened?" he asked, confused at the turn of events.

"She…" Hermione spat, slamming her chair against a wall as she fought to make an escape. The irony of the moment was not lost on her as she struggled to contain the rage that tore at her heart and ravaged her brain. As she bolted from the hall her vision constricted and everything turned red. Turning away from the hallway leading to her quarters, Hermione made a break for the front doors. She blew through the front doors into the courtyard, her heels morphed into trainers and her gown changing to jeans and a jumper as she fled.

"Hermione!" Harry's voice bellowed behind her, following her down the path. She was only two meters from the gate when she was tackled from behind.

"Get off!" She screamed as she bucked her assailant off.

"Wait! Hermione, stop!" Harry commanded.

Hermione fell back onto her buttocks, her fists pounding the ground.

"Hey, 'Mione…what just happened?"

Broken and defeated Hermione silently pleaded for Harry to understand. "She flagged me, Harry. Not the board. Minerva."

Harry sat next to his best friend, deflated. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"This is what it's come to. She's disavowed me. I am nothing to her."

"Don't say that Hermione."

"It's true. I've known it since I returned. I just didn't want to believe it."

"I still don't believe it." Harry pulled Hermione against his side, holding her tightly around her slender shoulders.

"I tried so hard, Harry. Wouldn't you think three mastery levels would be enough? I so wanted to come home."

"You are home. Ginny and I are your home. Neville, Luna, Filius, all the teachers. Even Ron, when he isn't being a prat. We are your home." He placed a kiss to her temple.

"I can't stay." She decided.

"Don't. Take some time. Consider your options before walking. Maybe talk to her."

"She doesn't talk to me. She's only had me to tea once."

"So, invite her to tea. Or maybe something stronger. But talk. Put it all out there. Fight if you have to. Just get it into the light of day. Then you'll know where it all falls. Then if you have to leave, I'll help you pack your bags."

Hermione snorted into his shoulder. Slapping his stomach she cursed him, "You are such a prat. I see why you're such great friends with Ron."

"You're my favorite, you know."

"You too." Hermione sighed, feeling completely wrung out. "I guess I should go back."

"To the party?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No. Absolutely not. A bed, a bed, my kingdom for a bed."

"You are so weird." Harry hauled a laughing Hermione off the ground.

Once on her feet, she properly hugged Harry, her face buried in his neck. "Thank you." She sniffled.

"Anytime. Coming to dinner tomorrow?"

"Of course."

The duo made their way back to the castle, Harry catching his best friend up on all the escapades, stunts, and shenanigans his children had gotten into over the week. He escorted Hermione all the way to her private rooms.

"Good night, 'Mione. See you tomorrow?"

"Yes, Harry. I will be there. Don't worry. I won't run away again tonight."

The morning sun relentlessly chided Hermione, holding her culpable for a sleepless night. Grumbling at the brightness of her room, she buried her head under her bed quilt. The persistent rapping of an owl's beak on her window pulled her from her cocoon. "What is it?" she protested, opening the window to receive the owl.

Tugging the letter from the tie around its leg, Hermione patted the owl's head and apologized for not having any food. She latched the window against the brisk autumn air and glanced at the note. Recognizing Harry's hand, she tore the message open.

Don't run away. I would miss you.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stumbled off to get a shower. Half an hour later, wrapped in a towel, she returned to her room. When she pushed her door closed with her hip she let out a shriek when she caught sight of Minerva McGonagall perched on the edge of her bed, cradling a steaming mug in her hands.

"What the hell? What is this? Am I no longer allowed privacy?"

With her face turning a dusty shade of red, Minerva apologized. "I beg your pardon, Hermione. I did not mean to intrude." She rose from the bed and placed the mug on the side table.

"You didn't mean to? You entered my home uninvited. How does that equate to not 'meaning to intrude'?"

"I was concerned for your well-being."

"My well-being?"

"After your sudden departure from the festivities last night and your absence at breakfast, I worried you may be ill."

"You worried. That is a hard pill to swallow. What do you want, Headmistress?"

Hermione's voice was flat with resignation and caused Minerva's eyes to snap up to study the younger witch with concern.

"Why did you leave so abruptly last night?"

"In truth?"

"Of course."

"Because I found out you are the one who raised certain concerns regarding my employment."

Minerva at least had the compunction to drop her eyes in embarrassment.

"Did you honestly think I was so damaged that I was standing on a hair thin line and a sneeze from a student might have set me off on a murderous rampage?"

"How would I have known anything?" Minerva barked in self-defense. "I had neither seen nor heard from you in over a decade. Not a single letter in twelve years, Hermione." Her voice was thick with her natural brogue.

"Post goes two ways, Minerva." Hermione bristled as she yanked a thick wool jumper over her head, covering the towel clinging to her body.

"Ye wur mah student." Minerva asserted, her anger pushing her into full Scottish dialect. "It wid nae hae bin proper fur me tae send ye a letter."

"Is propriety all you care about?" Hermione dragged a pair of jeans over her hips, yanking the towel free once she was properly dressed.

"O' coorse nae, ah care …" Minerva faltered under the weight of emotions. Rallying her fortitude she continued. "While th' war… ye hae na idea… ye wur gaen fur nine months, Hermione. Na word. Na wey tae git in touch wi' ye. Ah didnae ken if ye wur alive or deid. Then ye shaw up wi' th' wee jimmies 'n' bring hell doon upon us. Efter, whin ah hud th' chance tae soucht ye, ye wur gaen... Again.

"If you were so concerned, why didn't you look for me?" Some of the heat had dissipated from Hermione's anger.

"If ye hae moved far enough awa' that yin mist tak' excessive measures tae fin' ye, then ye dinnae wantae be found."

"I would argue the only measure you needed to take was a conversation with Harry."

Sucking in a fortifying breath, Minerva blew out her anxiety and tried to speak clearly.

"It was not my place. You obviously didn't hold me dear enough to trust me. I thought perhaps we had forged a friendship over the years; that you maybe had a certain amount of respect for me. After all, one would assume when your first boggart appeared in my guise that you held me in a modicum of esteem?"

Hermione's lips tugged into a brief smile despite her ire. "Your approval meant everything to me back then."

"And now?"

"And now you despise me."

"I never…" Minerva gasped in horror.

"You've treated me like a pariah since my return."

"I… you…" Minerva tripped over her tongue, unable to form a coherent sentence. Failing to justify her actions, she admitted her fault. "A'm an arse."

"You are. But why did you shut me out?"

"I have no good reason." Minerva drew in a deep breath and confessed her shortcoming, "I was simply being pig headed. My feelings were hurt and I wanted you to feel as I had."

"Your feelings… Are you kidding me?"

"It has not been one of my better moments."
"You think? Minerva, I almost left last night. For good."

Minerva sat dumbfounded. The idea of losing Hermione again burned her heart with ice.

"I am sorry, Hermione. I have been a foolish old woman. Can you ever forgive me?"

"You aren't old."

The oft used defense slipped subconsciously from Hermione's mouth. Smirking at her own inane response, she continued, "I should be furious with you. In truth, last night I was." Hermione glanced around the room, trying to center her thoughts. "What's in the mug?"

Minerva followed Hermione's line of sight to the cooling cup. "A peace offering."

"Coffee?" Hermione asked brightly.

"Yes. With cream."

"Ooh…" Hermione maneuvered across the space, grinning when her hand wrapped around the still warm mug. Taking a generous sip, she sighed appreciatively. "That's the ticket."

"Hermione, might we start over?"

"What do you propose?"

"I recall a time you found comfort in sharing tea with me at the end of your school week. Do you think you might be persuaded to revisit that custom?"

"That may be a start, but you owe me big, Professor McGonagall."

"I am sure you will levy a hefty fine."

Hermione smirked into her coffee cup.

"How is your chess game?" Minerva challenged.

"Not much better than fifth year." Hermione confessed with a smile.

"Tae ill." Minerva muttered.

Hermione watched Minerva through the steam of her coffee cup. The normally austere woman seemed to soften before her eyes. Hermione smirked when she realized Minerva was actually beginning to fidget. Taking a final swallow of her morning elixir, Hermione provided Minerva an escape.

"Well, thanks for this." She held the empty cup up. "I'd love to continue this visit, but I need to get going. I have a standing dinner invitation with Harry and Ginny."

"Oh, of course. Please don't let me keep you."

"So…Friday?" Hermione momentarily blocked Minerva's exit.

"Yes. I will see you Friday. Good afternoon, Hermione."

Pulling the door open, Hermione let her free hand fall to Minerva's back, resting just above a hip, guiding the woman through the door. "Have a good week, Minerva."

Emerald eyes snapped to meet espresso. Surprise gave way to something else that Hermione could not identify. An electric thrill flashed from her fingers to her heart, causing a skip in a usually steady beat.

"Friday." Minerva whispered before striding off.

The following Friday Hermione arrived at the Headmistress' office. Just as she was about to speak the visitor's password, the gargoyle nodded in greeting and slid open, allowing her entrance. Arching a speculative eyebrow, she stepped through the entry and let the stairs carry her to the office.

When she entered, she instantly noticed the iron café table from her previous visit was absent. As she glanced around the open space she felt a suppressed tension evaporate with a soft sigh when she took in the setting by the fireplace. Two overstuffed arm chairs were arranged side by side facing the dancing flames with a tea set already set out on the small table between them.

"Ah, there you are." Minerva's low voice filled the room. "Come in, sit."

Hermione grinned at Minerva sitting at her desk behind a stack of papers.

"I see you are inundated with correspondence as usual."

"An endless task." Minerva's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Would you mind terribly if I finish this. It won't be but a few minutes."

"Go right ahead. I'll just settle in over there." Hermione waved her hand absently in the direction of the fireplace.

Forty minutes later a contrite Minerva gently shook Hermione's shoulder to wake her from a fitful slumber.

"Oh. Sorry."

"No. I am sorry for being so engrossed with responsibilities. Are you at all interested in some tea?"

"Tea would be lovely. Thank you."

Minerva adeptly served the steaming brew and offered a plate of her ever present ginger newts.

Hermione melted into the combined warmth of the tea, fire, and Minerva's familiar deportment.

"How was your week?" Minerva asked with actual interest.

"It went very well, thank you. Although, I think Caitriona Kelly is trouble looking for a place to happen."

Minerva chuckled at Hermione's assessment. "Yes, that girl rivals you and Harry in the commotion department. She has been sent to my office by every one of her professors at least twice a year."

"I was thinking I'd like to tutor her in extracurricular studies."

"What exactly?" Minerva's curiosity was peaked.

"Most of the issues with her behavior stem from boredom. So, I thought I could help her study at a more advanced pace to keep her interested. She's fifth year now, and I think she could be prepared for her NEWTS in Transfiguration by the end of six."

"And what would you do with her for the rest of her schooling?"

"Use her as a teacher's aide for the younger kids. I always find teaching others really solidifies my own knowledge and competency."

"I appreciate where you are going. Work up a study plan and bring it to me in the next week or two. I think this could work."

Hermione sat back more than pleased with herself. Having Minerva McGonagall defer to her ideas always gave her a rush of satisfaction.

Before either woman could segue into a new topic, the peaceful ambiance was interrupted by a silver white stag patronus.

"Hermione, Varick Vakos was seen in London. Don't leave Hogwarts. I'll be there soon."

Deadly silence filled the room as the white stag disappeared. Hermione could feel her heartrate increase at the same time she could hear Minerva's slow down. She cringed when Minerva's icy voice cut through the stillness.

"And who is Varick Vakos?"

"That's kind of a long story."

"Hermione Granger, I think it is time you explain some things to me. Who is this Varick and what do you have to do with him?"

"Maybe we should have something a little stronger than tea." Hermione countered.

Minerva studied Hermione for a full minute before she capitulated and stalked across the room to grab a bottle and two glasses. Pouring a healthy serving of an amber liquid into each glass, she handed one to Hermione and returned to her seat.

"Speak."

Coughing after her first swallow Hermione choked out, "Damn. What is this?"

"Glen McGonagall scotch. 20 year. I am waiting." Minerva enunciated slowly.

Hermione turned to fully confront her former professor. Boldly facing off with the incensed witch, she began her tale.

"So, I may have omitted something from my résumé."

"Do tell."

"I am not in a position to confirm or deny this, but I might have been working for the ministry while I was in Australia."

"In what manner?"

"I might have been a spy."

"Hermione!" Minerva officially lost her cool. "Whit hae ye dane?"

"Nothing. I did nothing. I was simply inconspicuously monitoring the activities of Mr. Vakos, who is a person of interest to the ministry. "

"And what, pray tell, did you observe?"

"That's the thing. It would appear I witnessed Mr. Vakos actively taking the life of a dubious accountant."

"You witnessed a murder?!"

"Seems so."

"'n' ye juist decided tae come back 'ere 'n' leid this murderer intae oor home?"

"No! No, Minerva. I was brought here to hide out as a protected witness."

"'n' wha, exactly, is protecting ye?"

"Primarily the school. With its security and the wards in place, Vakos won't ever get to me."

"He is here, Hermione. I think he just might argue your viewpoint."

"He can't get in, Minerva. That's why Harry told me to stay put."

Minerva appraised Hermione for a moment. "That is why you apparate so close to the school wards. There is a greater concern than this Varick Vakos."

"Well… he has a propensity to hire professional assassins."

"Ach. Assassins, too. Howfur cuid ye pat a' body in danger lik' this? howfur cuid ye nae hae come tae me fae th' oncom?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Minerva's persistent slip into her deep Scottish dialect.

"Oh, right. Because you were so willing to have a conversation with me. Stop going all Scottish on me. It isn't going to help the situation."

Harry Potter stepped out of the flash of green flame into the midst of a private war. Before he could even consider a retreat, Minerva turned on him.

"And you! What were you thinking? How could you not have consulted me in this ridiculous scheme? The two of you have not improved your strategical insights since your third year."

"It wasn't Hermione's idea, professor. The minister directed her to return. He may have glossed over the fact that you were left out of the conversation."

"I am the headmistress of this school. How am I to effectively do my job and keep my pupils safe when you are undermining me at every turn?"

"Professor, you and Filius put the wards up after the war. Do you think there is any way to break through them?"

"What? Of course not, Potter."

"So, the students and Hermione will all be safe until we can bring Varick in."

"That is not the issue."

"Isn't it?"

"The issue, Mr. Potter, is the ministry's abject disrespect shown me and my school."

"But Professor…"

"Harry," Hermione interrupted "will you give us a minute?"

"Oh, uhm, yeah. I'll go talk to Filius."

Once Harry left them, Hermione stepped up close behind Minerva and laid her hand on the rigid woman's shoulder.

"Minerva, I am sorry. I never meant to lie to you."

Minerva dragged in a shaky breath. "I once thought I understood you. I thought you trusted me."

"I did… I do. I do trust you."
"Ye speak th' wurds, bit yer actions betray ye."

"I wanted to tell you." Hermione's thumb began to rub across the sinewy muscle straining along Minerva's neck. "I was planning on it. But we just now reconnected. Had this event not occurred, I would have used a more temperate approach. Perhaps without Harry's added hysteria you would not feel so aggrieved. There was no intent to dishonor you or your work… I never intended to cause you any anguish."

Minerva reached up and trapped Hermione's hand where it lay, stilling her thumb.

"What else do I need to know?"

"Come sit with me again?" Hermione implored.

Minerva returned to their cozy nest by the fire.

"I spent the last three years covertly surveilling Vakos. He's into the usual crime boss activities; extortion, money laundering, rigging sporting events. However, he came under the awareness of the ministry when some odd happenings began to occur at the Australian Magic Authority. There were long term employees suddenly taking early retirement. A conspicuous shift in political views and policy was taking effect. Dark policies. An increase of prejudicial regulations against muggle-born and half-blood individuals were being instituted. It smelled of Death Eater activity. Early investigation kept tripping over the name Vakos. So, the ministry wanted eyes on to gather information."

"When did you start working for the ministry?"

"About three years ago."

"You were recruited for this assignment." Minerva stated flatly.

"Yeah."

"Then what were you doing in the interim?"

"I was truthful. I did work as a teacher in a public school for muggles."

"Without a teaching certificate? I am not stupid, Hermione. Nor am I clueless on all things muggle."

"When I completed my masteries, I moved to New Zealand. I was working in a school teaching Māori children. New Zealand is not overly concerned about the red tape when it comes to the schooling of the indigenous tribes. Harry found me there when this issue came up."

"How could you let yourself get caught up in this?" Minerva questioned; the sting of her earlier anger curbed with concern.

"It came up at the right time. Or, at least, Harry came at the right time. It made sense. I wasn't attached to any bureaucratic office so the chance of Vakos noticing me was next to nothing."

"But still something."

"Yes, well…"

Harry returned with Filius on his heels.

"Minerva, are you aware of what has been happening?"

"Yes, Filius. I have been informed, finally."

"We must take action. We cannot have this maniac attacking the school."

"Filius, I dae nae think we should overreact. I am sure Mr. Potter has a plan to address this situation. Isn't that right, Potter?"

"Oh, um, well…"

"Ah. I see. Apparently, I give you too much credit."

To add insult to injury, the room was once again invaded by a patronus, this one a familiar terrier. Ron Weasley's voice blared through the room.

"Vakos is in Helmsdale. Surveillance reports he has an eight o'clock reservation for seven at the Boatswain's Whistle Inn. We have a team of six ready to fly."

"Well, if ever there was a time to have a plan in place." Minerva muttered angrily.

"Hermione, I need to go. You should stay here and wait 'til you hear from me…"

"To do what, Potter?"

"Minerva, please." Hermione's fingers curled around a tense bicep. "Please don't escalate things. Just leave it." Turning to Harry she stated firmly, "I bloody well won't stay here. I'm involved. I'm the reason he's here. So, I am damn well going to be included in his apprehension."

"As am I," Minerva insisted.

"I can't very well sit here on my own awaiting news." Filius put in. "And I know Neville and Rolanda will be quite put out if they are not included."

"This isn't a party." Harry tried unconvincingly.

"Of course." Filius gamely agreed as he sent a patronus to both Neville and Rolanda.

"I have an idea." Hermione announced.

"What is it?" Harry asked warily.

"Let's wait for the others.

Thirty minutes later six people appeared in a small copse of trees on the west side of River Helmsdale. Moments after that another six joined them. Harry stepped forward to brief Ron and the other aurors of Hermione's plan.

At 7:47 Filius and Neville entered the Boatswain's Whistle Inn and made their way to the bar. Ten minutes later, Rolanda wandered in on the heels of a party of four and joined her two friends. Minerva arrived seven minutes later, completing the group at the bar. Harry and Ron, both incognito with the aid of pollyjuice, followed Varick Vakos into the lounge, finding a table in a corner near the entry. The final auror remained concealed on the street as sentry.

By 8:30 all the seats at Varick's table were full and Hermione Granger confidently walked up to Varick directly, her presence demanding his attention.

"Mr. Vakos, I'm Hermione Granger. I believe you have been looking for me."

The man, who looked like a bulldog, turned his seat to better look at the young woman standing boldly in front of him.

"Varick Vakos," Hermione proceeded, "I am here to inform you that you are hereby under arrest by the authority of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for the crimes of murder, corruption, and treasonous acts against the state.

"Little girl, I think you have the wrong man."

"No sir, I assure you we have the man we want."

Hermione felt the change in the magical auras filling the room. She could feel Minerva and her group moving to better offensive positions. She felt Harry and Ron reposition themselves to block the doorway. She also felt every individual at the table shift, most likely maneuvering their wands to ready. Taking a single step back to allow Vakos space to stand from his chair, she made a final request.

"Sir, if you would please come with me."

Chaos exploded around her. Hermione released the spell she had at the ready and felt the magic swirl around her, forming an impenetrable barrier. The clamor of shouted spells was deafening but Hermione was able to center on Minerva's familiar brogue. She quickly checked to see Minerva easily disarm and subdue an opponent while she worked furiously in her own right. Powerful magic pulsed from the depths of her being and was projected precisely where she directed.

Curses and hexes flew about the room as tables and chairs flipped over and splintered apart. Smoke, fire, and bolts of lightning ricocheted throughout the bar. Hermione and company fought through the pandemonium. The battle ended with minimal peril. The ragtag team of aurors and friends had successfully taken the table of miscreants by surprise. Varick was caught making a run for it by Harry and Ron and was being led away in shackles with the rest of his henchmen.

Hermione started when she realized her right hand was restrained by both of Minerva's warm soft hands.

"What?" Hermione whispered, blinking her eyes back into focus.

"Are you injured?" Minerva cupped Hermione's cheek while she quickly checked the young woman for wounds.

"No. I'm fine. Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes. I am fine. I must say, this was a sorry bunch of hoodlums. Rather incompetent lot. One would think this Vakos fellow would have a savvier stable of henchmen."

Minerva's words spoken through a wry smile made Hermione guffaw.

"Come along." Minerva directed as she tugged Hermione's hand. "We'll allow the cleanup crew to complete their task, shall we?"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder to observe Neville, Filius, and Rolanda righting furniture, repairing damage, and redirecting the memories of the muggle patrons of the lounge. She silently followed Minerva outside, distracted with watching sets of aurors and prisoners vanish with their portkeys.

"Hermione?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I asked if you are ready?"

"Oh, right. Yes."

Minerva held out a gold coin in the palm of her hand.

Hermione grasped the hand and they both vanished from the scene.

The portkey deposited the women at Hogwarts' south gate. Hermione followed Minerva to the headmistress quarters, unwilling to return alone to her own rooms.

Once in the familiar setting, Minerva directed Hermione to their private retreat by the fire. Refilling the glasses still sitting on the table, she sank into deep cushions and knocked back the contents of her glass in one go. She eyed Hermione as the tawny haired witch followed suit, impressed that the woman showed no reaction to the burn of the liquor.

"What was that?" Minerva wondered, her voice silky soft.

"What?"

"I saw you, Hermione. I saw your magic. What was it? What spell produces a green dragon? And those runes? What were you doing?"

"I was protecting everyone."

"You what?"

"The dragon is a protection charm, an impermeable shield. It allowed me to cast the runes without being struck by hexes."

"What were the runes? I have never seen them."

"Ancient magic. Shields to safeguard the muggles and the building. Our battles tend to have a lot of collateral damage, so…"

"Where did you learn these incantations?"

"New Zealand."

"Hermione?"

"Minerva."

"Here." Minerva slid a refill across the table. Sipping her own, she could not take her eyes off Hermione. "What have you done?"

"Nothing. Nothing illegal or even dangerous."

"But… ancient runes. Ancient magic. And all wandless. I saw you Hermione. It was like watching a martial artist practicing kata. Never in my life…"

"Min." Hermione sighed with exhaustion. "It's not a bad thing. It's nothing to worry about."

"Why did you not defend yourself?"

"Do you mean why didn't I counterattack?"

"Well…yes."

"I fought in the war. I injured and killed people. True, they were enemies who were trying to kill me but, they were still people... souls. I can't stomach it. I hurt for so long after. If I can avoid raising my wand against anyone, I will. Call me a pacifist, but I don't want to harm people. It costs too much."

"You say you learned these new skills in New Zealand? So, not at university?"

"No. I finished my mastery levels at the academy. Then I traveled about for a while. Ended up in New Zealand. I made some friends there who are Māori. Turns out Māori are very adept at magic. They have perfected elemental magic. Tapping into the power of the elements is like increasing the strength of our spells tenfold. They also showed me how to create spells around my needs. The dragon is one I designed to meet my own requirements. I also studied with a grand master who taught me ancient runes. I'm sure there is probably more still to learn, but Harry needed my help, so I returned to Australia and began my life as a spy."

"I must tell you; I am very impressed."

"Are you?"

"Hermione Granger, I think you may well be the most powerful witch in all of Europe. I daresay, the entire world."

Hermione finished her drink and stood, ending the conversation.

"Thank you for the drink. I'm uh, going to head out. It's getting late and I need to report to the ministry before my appointment tomorrow, so…"

Minerva escorted Hermione to the door.

"Good night, Hermione. Sleep well."

The tingle across her skin where Minerva had absently brushed her hand at the door tickled Hermione all the way to her own room.

"How are you today?" Sarika's voice was too perky for Hermione's troubled heart.

"Do I at least get a cuppa?"

"Certainly." Sarika chuckled. "You know where everything is."

"I hope I get a discount. Making my own tea…"

Once Hermione was again settled on the couch with a hot cup of tea in hand, Sarika returned to a topic from the beginning of their therapy sessions.

"So, how are you sleeping?"

"I'm not…much."

"Mattress too hard?"

"No." Hermione smiled into her cup.

"Would you like to share your nightmares yet?"

"No." The smile turned to a frown.

"Then what would you care to discuss today?"

Hermione pondered the question. What did she want to talk about? She knew there were a number of issues she ought to deliberate, but they all revolved around a certain green eyed Scot and Hermione was not going to put that particular issue under a clinical microscope.

"I was involved in an incident last night."

"Ah. I see. You were at Helmsdale?"

"You already know about that?"

"Word travels fast. I may not have all the details, but the story of an explosive magical fight in a public muggle establishment tends to spread like wildfire."

"Right. Well…"

"So, Friday night. Isn't that your standing date with Professor McGonagall?"

"Mmm, yes. She was there, too."

"In the battle?"

"Yeah. We were just having a cup of tea in her office when it all hit the fan. We had a bit of a…discussion. Certain things were cleared up. Some things were shared…"

"What things, exactly?"

"I explained what I was doing while in Australia."

Sarika evaluated Hermione's posture and vocal tone. "What else happened last night?"

Hermione petulantly glared at Sarika, frustrated that the woman was so good at her job and wouldn't let Hermione get away with anything.

"I cast a discrete protection shield that may have extended out to envelop Minerva."

"So, you protected her."

"Yes, although unintentionally."

"And she knows this?"

"I'm not sure. She told me she saw it surround me, which is rare to see the form of someone else's spells. But, she didn't indicate she was aware it enshrouded her, too."

"What troubles you most about this?"

"That I subconsciously included her. It was not my design."

"But, it didn't constrict her abilities to fend for herself?"

"Not at all. Once in place it allows free use of magic."

"I don't understand what the issue is here, Hermione."

"My magic acted out on its own. I mean, you can say I did it subconsciously, but still…"

"You are troubled that you thoughtlessly helped someone you care about?"

"Yes! Well…no. But why didn't I instinctually expand it to cover everyone? I mean, Harry and Ron are my best mates and I left them to their own devices."

"Hermione," Sarika challenged Hermione. "You can't honestly be telling me you don't know the answer to that."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you discussed your nightmares with Minerva?"

"What? No."

"I can't tell if you are sincerely obtuse or if you believe you are being successfully covert. It's of no matter since you wear your heart on your sleeve. And specifically, that sleeve tattoo. Has anyone else seen that?"

"No. I tend to wear long sleeve tops." Hermione confessed with her eyes downcast from disgrace.

"Hermione, I am going to send you home now. You don't need to waste your time catching me up on your extracurricular activities. You do need to tell someone about your nightmares. And I don't think that person should be me. Go. Think about it. If you feel you need to talk with me, I'll be here. But for now, I feel you can find better answers by talking to someone else. Maybe share the story of your tattoo?"

"But…I don't know how.''

"I believe you will find a way. Take the week. If you need guidance, give me a shout. You know where to find me."

Sunday's luncheon with the Potters was an idle distraction for Hermione. Recounting the Friday night exploits had everyone at the table laughing to tears.

"You should have seen her, Gin."Harry recounted. "She just walks up to him like she was going to ask him for a light, and casually says 'I'm Hermione Granger. I believe you've been looking for me.' You could have heard a pin drop, except for the poor muggles who were totally unaware of the whole thing."

"I wish I had time to get mom to watch the kids. I would have loved the adventure."

"It could have gone worse." Hermione sobered up a little. "If we hadn't gotten the drop on them, it could have been more detrimental."

"Yeah, but we did and it wasn't." Harry protested. "Don't be a wet blanket, 'Mione."

"Harry," Hermione's voice slipped into its academic inflection. "Have you ever cast a spell that expanded to cover more than you intended?"

"You mean like a misfired hex?"

"More like a protection charm that covered a larger area than you meant to."

"No. I can't say that has ever happened. Why?"

"The other night. I cast a protective shield that inadvertently covered others. Not just me."

"Huh. Maybe because you weren't using your wand?"

"Maybe."

"I'm sure you'll study it and figure it out." Ginny noted.

"Yeah. So many experiments, so little time." Hermione laughed it off and the subject was changed.

The following week Hermione was so busy with her students and the extra work she brought on herself for Caitriona Kelly that she did not spend much time or effort devising a plan to approach the 'conversation' with Minerva. By the time Friday arrived, she got herself into a panic trying to decide if and how she would tell Minerva the truth about her night terrors. She debated avoiding the entire visit, but the thought of not spending the evening in front of the fire debating transfiguration theory formed a debilitating weight that pressed on her heart.

The stone gargoyle once again allowed her entrance without a password. Each step up was heavier than the last. When she finally shouldered her way through the office door, the room was unoccupied. Hermione hesitated and was about to back out when Minerva swept in through the doorway from her personal quarters.

"Ah, here you are. Come in." Minerva held her arms out to both draw Hermione near and usher her through to her private rooms. "I thought we could relax in here without interruptions." She suggested with unmistakable allusion to their previous meeting.

Hermione stuffed her inner alarms and followed along. She relaxed some when she saw the sitting room set up identically to their usual conversational nest. She was led to her customary comfy chair and gratefully dropped into it. The familiarity of the set up was like a comforting embrace. A steaming cup of tea was passed to her without preamble, the first sip releasing her tension like a Draught of Peace potion.

"That good?" Minerva asked in response to the solemn sigh that blew from Hermione's lips.

"It's been a long week." Hermione covered.

"I have been informed your extra work with Miss Kelly is producing benefits."

"She's good. I mean real good. And her concentration is improving with every lesson."

"Good." Minerva rather abruptly closed the subject. "And how are you doing?"

The older witch's voice was asking more than the basic words. Hermione eyed Minerva over her teacup, an eyebrow arched inquisitively.

"I'm well, thank you." Hermione offered tentatively.

"You have recovered from your Friday adventure?"

"I have. It proved cathartic to see Vakos led away in shackles."

"Rightly so."

The pair quieted, both getting distracted with their own thoughts. Hermione shifted, capturing Minerva's attention. Placing her teacup down, she turned to better face Minerva and with hooded eyes appealed, "Can I tell you something?"

Minerva tilted her head and arched an eyebrow in surprise. "Of course. You can tell me anything."

"It's about the war."

"Ah. I see. Does this require stronger libations?"

"Maybe." Hermione chuckled.

Minerva summoned the good whiskey and a pair of rocks glasses. Pouring a healthy double in each, she passed one to Hermione. Lifting hers she offered, "Cheers."

"Skol"

Hermione gulped half her drink and fidgeted while trying to decide where to begin while Minerva waited patiently.

"I don't sleep well because of night terrors." Hermione blurted.

"I am aware." Minerva replied carefully.

"I was tortured."

Other than a gasp of shock sucked through her nose, Minerva made no sound.

"We were captured by Fenrir Greyback and delivered to Malfoy manner." Hermione's voice was lifeless and monotonous. "I hit Harry with a stinging jinx so he wouldn't be recognized but I couldn't act fast enough to disguise Ron or myself. Bellatrix was at the manor. She questioned me…vigorously. And punished me when I didn't give her the answers she wanted." Hermione looked up at Minerva and inquired, "Have you ever been hit with a crucio hex?"

"No." Minerva blew out in a harsh whisper.

"I don't recommend it, it really hurts. We were rescued by Dobby."

"Who is Dobby?"

"He was an elf bonded to the Malfoys until Harry tricked Mr. Malfoy into releasing him. He died helping us. If it wasn't for Dobby, we would have died there."

Minerva's shaking hand rose to cover her mouth, the motion again catching Hermione's attention. Hermione caught the glint of a tear drop from Minerva's eyelashes.

"Have you ever been in love?"

"What?!" Minerva barked a laugh of disbelief.

"Have you ever loved someone so much that just the thought of their existence filled you with hope and peace?"

"I don't underst…yes. I have." Minerva revealed. "I am not the old spinster the student body believes me to be. I was lucky enough in my life to have given and received love a few times. I was even married at one time."

"Were you?" Hermione asked both surprised and actually happy for Minerva.

"Quite a few years ago. I lost him after only three years of marriage. But I knew him for many years. He was a lovely man; kind, gentle, and very bright. He kept me on my toes." Eyeing Hermione, Minerva knew she wanted complete honesty. Feeling raw and stripped naked by Hermione's words, Minerva added, "But my husband was perhaps a comfort, like an old warm quilt. He was supportive and caring, but I could not say we had a passionate affair."

"Passion. Don't you think that is for the fairy tales of youth?"

"This from a mere bairn."

"I am by no means a bairn."

"No." Minerva agreed frankly. "You are not."

"Did you ever experience that all-consuming passion?"

Minerva smiled wistfully. "That is a tale from my youth. There was a young man from my village. I fell completely in love with him. He asked for my hand, but I could not accept his betrothal."

"Why ever not?"

"He was a muggle. And at the time it was illegal to divulge our magical abilities to non-magical folk. I could not accept living as my mother had chosen and hide away that which I am. I would not live my life as a secret. I could not."

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Minerva."

"Do not worry yourself. It was a lifetime ago."

"Bellatrix did more than the crucio curse. Although, after the third time with that, I was about ready to give Harry up and curse him myself."

"Your strength of spirit has always been extraordinary. I doubt you would have talked."

"Doesn't matter. The scars have all receded to vague lines. And those that I thought were permanent have been effectively concealed so they no longer trigger the pain of memory."

Hermione tugged at her shirt sleeve, rolling it up over her forearm offering the inked design for Minerva's inspection.

"Wha… I dinnae…" Minerva struggled verbally as her fingers reverently traced the design. With a featherlight touch Minerva studied the portrait of a remarkably familiar tabby cat framed at the base with chess pieces and a quiddich snitch. Her eyes sliding up to capture Hermione's all she could say was "Why?"

"Because it's always been you. You are the one who fills me with hope and peace."

"Oh, Hermione." Minerva slid her fingers down Hermione's arm and grabbed her fingers in a desperate clasp. "No. Dae nae snib yer hert up fur someone lik' me, lass. Tis nae richt."

Hermione pulled her hand away slowly. She drew in a shaky breath and blew out her disappointment.

"It's alright. I don't want anything from you. I mean, I would like to keep our friendship. That's all I really need anyway."

"Och, mah dear. A'm yer mukker, ally, 'n' benefactor fur lee"

Hermione actually giggled at Minerva's dialect. "I'm sorry, Minerva. That was obviously profound, but I have no idea what you actually said."

"Your friend for life." Minerva whispered, her throat thick with emotion.

"Right. Brilliant."

Both of the women reached for their whisky. Draining her glass, Hermione rose to take her leave. Before she could get to the doorway Minerva arrested her with a hand on her arm. Eyeing the hand and then the green gaze of her heartbreak, she waited.

"I am sorry, Hermione." Minerva asserted.

"So am I." Hermione conceded.

Hermione remained ensconced in her chambers for the entire weekend. She begged off of her Sunday dinner visit and refused to attend any of the weekend meals in the great hall. By Monday, she had her emotions stable enough to approach her class work professionally without fail. She also returned to the community meals and was capable of holding animated conversations with her coworkers. On the rare occasion she sought out Minerva with her eyes, she was able to offer a passable smile of acknowledgement.

By the end of the week, her exhaustion from maintaining outward appearances as well as her heartache forced her to renege on her tea with Minerva. Feeling slightly guilty, she sent a note stating she was under the weather and buried her head under her bed quilt.

By Sunday, she was able to keep her commitment to her friends and showed up for dinner on time.

"Oi, 'Mione. Want a butterbeer?" Ron's overenthusiastic voice called across the sitting room.

"Hi Ron. How are you?" Hermione enthused, happy to be with her closest friends.

"Alright. Did you hear they're pushing the Vakos case through as priority? His trial will be up in like two weeks."

"Well, I hope that means you all have the evidence to put him away for life."

"Of course we do. What do ya think? So… beer?"

"No, thank you." She declined. "Ginny in the kitchen?" she asked Harry.

"Yeah. She said she was cooking, but I really think she's just drinking to celebrate her freedom. Molly wanted to take the kids this weekend, so…"

"Excellent. I'll just go say hi."

In the kitchen, Hermione poured a glass of wine for herself from the bottle Ginny had open. "Oh, that's good." She sighed.

"And not expensive. I do like those Australian wines." Ginny giggled,

"And how many glasses have you had?"

"Not too many. You can catch up easily enough."

Hermione grinned and chugged down the red fruity panacea.

An afternoon of catching up with friends and finding more in life to laugh about than cry over helped reset Hermione's soul. By the end of dessert, she was feeling more like herself than she had in too months.

When Hermione was about to leave Harry quipped, "You're too drunk to apparate. Maybe you should use the floo."

"I am perfectly capable of apparating."

"Yeah and getting splinched."

Hermione considered his argument against her condition and decided he was probably right.

"Fine. I will floo."She announced with grandiose affectations before stepping into the fireplace and disappearing in a green flash.

She stumbled out of the flames into a room that was familiar but not her own.

"Did we have an appointment, Miss Granger?" An amused cool voice forced Hermione to whip around and fall to the floor.

"Shit." Hermione sputtered from her place on Professor McGonagall's sitting room floor.

Cracking her eyes open, Hermione's gaze began at a pair of black leather boots and swept up a long robe covered frame to finally focus on laughing green eyes.

"Would you like a hand?" Minerva reached down to assist.

"I got it." Hermione rolled over and pushed herself off the floor, experiencing a modicum of difficulty standing erect.

"Successful visit with the Potters?"

"Yup."

"Do you think you can find your way to your flat, or are you in need of some coffee?"

"I think I know the way."

"Very well. I shall leave you to your own devices. Please mind the staircases."

Hermione staggered her way out of the headmistress' office, leaving a snickering Minerva in her wake.

Friday arrived without fanfare. The week had been rewarding with a number of promising advancements by her students and Hermione was sound enough to face Minerva. She had confirmed during lunch that their standing arrangement was still in effect for the evening, so five o'clock found her purposefully striding through the hallways.

On entry to the headmistress' office, Hermione was surprised to see the door to Minerva's private rooms was wide open.

"I'm back here, Hermione." Minerva called from the depths of her apartment. "Please come through."

Hermione found Minerva's sitting room set up exactly as it was her last evening in the woman's company. Minerva was sitting at a small writing table along the back wall. She stood to formally welcome Hermione into her home and caused Hermione's heart to trip over in her chest. The enchanting witch was dressed in casual muggle clothes; form fitting slacks and a loose blouse with the three top buttons unfastened.

"Please, have a seat. Would you care for tea or something stronger?"

"Tea will be fine, thank you."

"Lasting effects from an afternoon with Ginevra Potter, perhaps?" Minerva teased.

"You could have gone the entire evening without reminding me." Hermione grumbled.

"I could have." Minerva agreed with a chuckle.

Handing Hermione her tea, she begged forgiveness, "I am sorry, but would you mind giving me a few moments to finish this report for Kingsely?"

"Demands of the job are relentless." Hermione sympathized. "Take your time."

It only took fifteen minutes for Minerva to complete her task, but that was more than enough time for Hermione to be seduced by Morpheus. Finding Hermione curled into the chair with her legs over the arm and a teacup precariously balanced on her knee, Minerva banished the teacup to the kitchen and easily transformed the chair into a chaise lounge, allowing Hermione to fully recline into the cushions. After placing a flannel throw over the supine body, Minerva withdrew to her own armchair to continue with a novel she had been indulging in.

The quiet of the evening was shattered by heart wrenching cries from under the blanket. Minerva dropped the book and leapt to Hermione's side. Sitting on the edge of the chaise, she pulled the blanket off the younger woman and grabbed at thrashing shoulders, holding Hermione still and calling her name.

Hermione's eyes flashed open and she sat up with a horrific shriek.

Minerva flinched at the sound of glassware shattering from a surge of magic but did not let go of the woman in her hands. Instead of running, she pulled Hermione into her arms, holding her tightly and calling out to her.

"Hermione. My dear lass, come back. You are safe. Please, lass, come back."

Hermione stilled for a moment before she broke apart with body wracking sobs, her arms wrapping around the pillar of strength that was Minerva McGonagall.

Once the crying had reduced to hiccups, Minerva shifted to sit behind Hermione and pulled the distraught woman back against her chest, arms encircling her shivering body. She cooed softly against the shell of an ear, murmuring words of comfort and support, vascillating between english and gaelic.

When Hermione finally relaxed and leaned back into the warmth of Minerva's body, Minerva pleaded with Hermione to share her misery.

"What torments your rest, lass? The memories of your torture?"

"No."

"No? Then what? What is it that plagues you so?"

Hermione sniffed, wiped her eyes, and sat up away from Minerva. After a tremorous breath she answered. "The memory of you being hit by four stunning curses. I thought I saw you die that day."

The sheer agony of Hermione's last words tore at Minerva's soul. She pulled Hermione back again, clutching her slight body tightly.

"Oh, mah lass. A'm richt 'ere. A'm alive. Dae nae mourn fur me, fur ah hae nae crossed ower."

"Every night." Hermione's voice trembled. "I watch you die every single night. You don't know. Min… it broke me. When Umbridge and her lackeys attacked you and I saw you fall... Everyone said you were alive, but I didn't believe any of them. Not until Harry practically dragged me to Saint Mungos. You were so pale and small in that hospital bed."

As Hermione spoke, Minerva began to comb her fingers through the brunette's hair, scratching her blunt nails across her scalp. Her ministrations had the desired effect. Despite the painful words, Hermione actually started to relax against Minerva's body.

"Och, mo ghràdh, please dae nae fret. A'm 'ere wi' ye 'n' am o' sound body."

Hermione sighed. "Min, I swear, when you get carried away I don't understand a single thing you say."

"I said, I am alive. I am fine. Please don't fret so."

Hermoine inhaled a deep breath through her nose and sat up, pulling out of Minerva's grasp. Looking over her shoulder she offered a tentative smile.

"I'm sorry, Minerva. I'm sorry you had to witness that."

"I am not. Now that you have purged the horror, perhaps you will sleep better."

"One can hope." Hermione jumped as a new realization hit her. "Oh my god." She whipped around to fully face Minerva. "I am so sorry for falling asleep on you…again."

"I blame my riveting personality."

"Did I sleep long?"

"Almost two hours."

"Why didn't you just kick me out?"

"You looked far too peaceful for me to disturb you. Besides, you don't snore, so I was not bothered by your presence."

Hermione grinned at Minerva's teasing. "As riveting as your personality truly is, I think I should go back to my room and go to bed."

Minerva followed Hermione to the outer door.

"Good night, Hermione. I hope you can actually sleep through the night now."

"As do I."

Hermione froze when Minerva stepped in close and wrapped her up in a hug. She tentatively returned the embrace, breathing in the scent of Minerva's hair. When Minerva shifted, Hermione dropped her hands to her side and stepped back. She smiled weakly when Minerva tucked a stray curl securely behind her ear.

"I better go." She mumbled.

"Yes. Good night. Sleep well."

"I'll try."

Hermione did not sleep very well. However, it was not due to night terrors but from her heart warring with her mind. She replayed her evening over and over, trying desperately to analyze Minerva's actions. Her confusion only intensified from the unabashed mixed signals of Minerva's display of physical affection. Her mind insisted that Minerva was simply being a caring friend and supporting her through an intensely emotional episode. Her heart screamed that no friend would hold and caress her in such an intimate manner no matter the distress.

A horrid alarm dragged Hermione into a bitter cold Saturday. A steaming shower and a strong coffee could barely get her into a pleasant enough frame of mind for the task of chaperoning students for the day in Hogsmeade. She was relieved that Neville was also on duty for the village excursion so she would have someone sympathetic to her condition to hang out with.

Once the students had dispearsed across the village, Hermione and Neville headed for the Three Broomsticks. They made it through the tavern's door just as snowflakes began to blow about the streets.

"Ugh. This is probably going be an early winter blizzard." Hermione grumbled.

"Hope you have your woolies on." Neville laughed.

"Oi. Hermione!"

Turning at the sound of her name called from the back of the room, Hermione spotted Harry and Ginny at a booth with a luncheon spread out across the table.

"What are you two doing here?"

"Getting some early Christmas shopping done while mom has the kids."

"Your mom is a saint." Hermione chuckled.

"My mom is a masochist. But I'll use it."

"Join us." Harry offered.

"Thanks."

The friends shared a feast and a few rounds of butterbeer. Although not having nearly the effect that a decent firewhiskey would have, with the additional impairment caused by her lack of sleep, Hermione's inhibitions were effectively diminished. Feeling warm and safe in the familiar environment with the fire roaring and one or two drinks over her limit, she candidly shared the farce that was her life.

"I don't get it." Ginny reasoned. "If she denied you, why would she be so physically intimate?"

"She was probably just being a mother hen." Harry rationalized. "You know how protective and supportive she is of all her students."

"Hermione isn't a student, Harry."

"Well…no, but she used to be."

"She's in love with you." Neville quietly disclosed.

All eyes turned in wonder to the empathic man.

"What?" Hermione sharply beseeched.

Neville shrugged as he raised a mug to his lips. After swallowing, he locked eyes with Hermione and repeated adamantly, "She is in love with you."

"She's not." Hermione denied emphatically.

"You didn't see her while you were away. She spent the last twelve years in mourning. And it wasn't due to the heavy losses from the war. Any mention of your name brought a spark of expectation to her eyes like she was hoping you would follow your name into existence. She pulled away from everyone. This Halloween dance was the first function she attended willingly, and I know you realized she was dressed completely differently from her usual formal attire. She did that for you, Hermione. She may be denying it right now, but the woman is head over heels for you."

"Neville, don't make fun."

"I'm not. It's the truth."

"Whoa, look at the snow!"

The alarm called out by one of their students brought both Hermione and Neville back to the present demands of their job, sobering Hermione instantly.

"Oh. Well, we best round up the kids and get them back to Hogwarts. Thanks for sharing your lunchtime with us."

"Any time. You coming over tomorrow?" Ginny asked.

"Can I let you know? With December and end of term around the corner, I have a lot of work to prepare."

"Door's always open." Harry confirmed as Hermione stole a hug.

"I know. Thanks."

Harry gave her a squeeze and whispered, "Neville knows things."

Hermione and Neville waded out into the snow squall, firing patronus signals off in different directions to alert their pupils of the early departure.

Hermione missed dinner the next day, and the following four weeks. She also skipped a month of Friday night engagements. She kept herself busily distracted with schoolwork, and when that failed, she returned to her first love; books. She used the time to catch up with a number of journals and periodicals. Once she caught up with her backlog, she progressed to picking novels off her shelf to re-read.

December was also filled with masterminding holiday arrangements with all her students. Most were already returning to their families for the holidays. For those that did not have that option, Hermione and the other professors were trying to arrange interim coverage. New regulations required all students to be out of the school for the duration of the holiday break.

Despite invitations to Christmas from the Potters and the Weasley family, Hermione had made plans to visit her parents. The Sunday afternoon, prior to vacation, Hermione's reading enjoyment was interrupted by a firm knock on her door. Disentangling herself from her blanketed nest in front of her fire, she padded across the cold stone to allow her intruder.

"Minerva, hi." Hermione nearly swallowed her tongue from nerves.

"Hello, Hermione." Minerva eyed the younger woman cautiously.

They remained frozen, each assessing the other until the standoff was broken by Minerva.

"May I come in?"

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry. Please." Hermione admitted the headmistress, allowing her to pass.

Minerva entered and moved to stand by the fireplace, watching the flames leap about.

Hermione stepped near and politely offered, "Would you like a cuppa?"

"No, thank you." Minerva declined listlessly.

"Would you care for a seat?"

"Mmmm. Thank you." Minerva perched on the edge of the cushion, refusing to soften her demeanor.

"Is there something you needed?"

Minerva stared at her morosely. "I feel I must apologize for something."

"Apologize? For what?"

"Well, that's just it. I dae nae ken. But it would appear I have done something egregious enough to push you away."

"Push me away? Oh… no. No Minerva. You haven't done anything wrong. I really have been frightfully busy with the end of term. I'm not avoiding you."

Hermione could feel Minerva relax from the opposite end of the sofa. She smiled encouragingly and offered, "You sure I can't get you something? Water, a pain potion, a double firewhiskey?"

Minerva snorted at Hermione's attempts to lift her spirits.

"Thank you. I needed that." She smiled weakly at Hermione. "What will you be doing over the holiday?"

"I'm going to visit my parents. Christmas down under…"

"Ah. Warmer weather."

"Yeah. Plenty of sun down there. What are your plans?"

"I will be traveling to America to visit with my nephew's family."

"Oh. That'll be good." Hermione tried to cover her surprise at learning Minerva had family.

"Yes, well… I should go." Minerva stood to take her leave.

At the door Hermione clutched Minerva's sleeve, delaying her escape.

Minerva eyed her dubiously.

Hermione released the robe and spread her arms, inviting Minerva in.

Minerva hesitated, but stepped closer and slid her arms around Hermione's waist as Hermione's arms wrapped securely around Minerva's shoulders, holding fast.

Hermione held on until Minerva released the rest of her tension and sunk into Hermione's warmth.

"Have a happy Christmas, Minerva. I'll see you at the New Year ball."

"Oh, will you be attending?" Minerva asked as she pulled away from Hermione.

"Of course. I always loved ringing in the new year at the Ministry ball."

"Then I will see you there. Happy Christmas, Hermione. Be safe."

"I will be."

Minerva left a confused Hermione to her thoughts.

Hermione returned to Scotland on the 28th, after an abbreviated visit with her parents. Five days proved to be more than enough time to play catch up and suffer through her parents' persistent attempts to revert their relationship dynamic to match a nostalgic memory. With the New Year ball impending, Hermione dumped her luggage on her bed and beelined it to the Potter domicile.

"Hermione! What brings you here?" Harry happily embraced his friend.

"I need Ginny." Hermione appealed.

"Sure. Come around once in six weeks and ask for my wife. I see how I rate."

"Don't be a git. I have a shopping emergency."

"Oh, well… Ginny!" Harry called out. "Your expertise is required."

Ginny appeared with Lily on her hip. "What's up?"

Hermione just stared at her helplessly and announced, "Ballgown."

"Right." Ginny understood everything. Handing Lily off to Harry, she bussed his cheek and followed Hermione out the door. "This could take a while. Lily has two bottles in the fridge. Thanks, love."

The girls disapparated before Harry could form a word of protest.

Hermione and Ginny spent the afternoon haunting Oxford street in London. Four hours of hunting and trying and debating ended in triumph. A burgundy one shoulder sleeveless satin gown with a single thigh high slit up her left leg paired with Louboutin Kate shimmery strass pumps was the winner in the "how to attract the attention of a particular witch sweepstakes".

The women celebrated their success with a happy hour drink at the Cocktail Club in Oxford Circus. Despite the popularity of the establishment, they were able to find a small table at the back of the room that offered a small amount of privacy.

"So what's going on with your therapy sessions?" Ginny inquired, stirring ice cubes with her cocktail umbrella.

"I can't believe you're drinking that. It's basically sugar in a glass."

"I can't believe you're drinking scotch. And that didn't answer my question." Ginny shot back.

"I'm not going anymore."

"Why?

"I got fired." Hermione shrugged.

"You got fired from therapy? Who does that?"

"We hit a dead end. Sarika told me I needed to talk to someone else. We covered a lot, but there were some things that weren't right for that environment."

"Did it help?"

"I'm doing better. She helped me straighten out some things I needed to face. So, yeah, it helped."

"Great. Now, who is this dress for?"

"It's for the New Year's ball."

"Not what…who?"

Hermione stared at Ginny, the truth stuck on her tongue.

"Are you pulling out the stops for Minerva, or have you found someone else?"

Hermione dropped her eyes, staring at the tabletop. "There is never anyone else," she confessed, her voice hoarse.

Ginny reached across the table to grasp Hermione's hand. " Aw, sweetie…"

Hermione sucked in a deep breath, raised her face back up, and with a tremulous waver to her voice asserted, "Even if she doesn't notice me, I'll still look fantastic."

"Fucking fantastic." Ginny agreed vehemently.

Hermione entered the ballroom and was welcomed by the sound of music, laughter, and lively conversations. As she navigated the crowded space, she let the wrap she wore around her shoulders slide down her back. Spotting her friends encamped around a group of tables, she wove her way through the throng to join them.

"You're late." Ron yelled as soon as he noticed her.

"Fashionably." She defended.

"Wow, you look amazing." Harry proclaimed.

"Thank you." Hermione blushed.

"Here," Harry offered, handing her a drink. "I'll get another."

"Ta."

"So, has there been any dancing yet?"

"Nah." Ginny explained. "everyone is still in the catching up phase of the evening. You want to get 'em started?"

Hermione grinned at her friend. "Why not?"

Ginny grabbed her hand and dragged her through the multitude of revelers to the barren dance floor. Into the second number, Harry and Ron joined the pair and the floor began to fill with more partyers. After the sixth go round, Hermione begged off to get some refreshments.

Harry, Ron,and Neville braved the masses to fetch cocktails from the bar while Ginny, Hermione, and Luna returned to their tables. While the friends were on the dance floor, the entire Weasley family arrived and took over their seats. The easy conversations, familiar teasing and raucous laughter of the group soon began to drown out the surrounding affair.

It was a good hour into the evening when George Weasley interrupted his own story to observe, "Holy… Old McGonagall really pulled out all the stops tonight."

"She's not o…ohhh." Hermione's rote defense of Minerva died on her lips when she actually saw the woman.

Minerva's entry had caused a wave of astonishment to flow through the room. The normally reticent and modest witch had decidedly ignored her puritanical upbringing. In lieu of her usual conventional dress robes, she was draped in a form fitting emerald green embroidered tulle floor length halter gown that, possibly for the first time in public, exposed her arms and shoulders. Still, more extraordinary was her hair style; ebony waves cascaded down her back topped by a braided crown around her head.

Hermione could not breath. Her vision began to get blurry before she shuddered and sucked in a lungful of oxygen. Once she started breathing again, she began to hyperventilate and spiral into a full on panic attack. She felt hands squeeze her fingers and was able to focus on Ginny's concerned face.

"Breathe, Hermione. Come on, with me."

Ginny managed to bring Hermione back from the brink and pushed a glass of water in front of her. "Here, drink this. Slowly." She ordered.

Hermione swallowed a few sips before letting her eyes relocate Minerva. As her eyes tracked Minerva's progress through the room, she felt her body temperature climb and her blood pound through her veins. She watched as Minerva, with drink in hand, conversed with Filius, Pamona, and Rolanda. She nearly swallowed her tongue when Minerva glanced up and locked eyes with her before slowly swallowing a mouthful of whiskey without breaking eye contact. A cocksure smirk and sparkling green eyes were the coup de grâce. As soon as she was released from the optic link Hermione fled.

Minerva eventually appeared at the table Hermione had deserted as she was making her social rounds. After generalized greetings and well wishes, Minerva acquiesced to take a seat next to Harry and Ginny.

"Quite a new look for you, Minerva." Ginny snarked.

"Yeah, it really is stunning." Harry added in a gentler tone to counter the acidity of Ginny's words.

"Thank you." Minerva actively ignored Ginny's hostility. "Sometimes one just needs to break out of routine, wouldn't you agree?"

"Well, sure." Harry played along with the overt insinuation. "Sometimes something new and completely different gives us a new lease on life."

"Did I see you all dancing earlier?"

"Maybe. We were all out on the floor for a while."

"I thought I saw Hermione with you. Was I mistaken?"

"She left a little while ago." Ginny cut in. "She wasn't feeling very well."

"She was ill?"

"More like a sudden pain." Ginny implied, her eyes snapping with anger.

"Ah. I see." Minerva capitulated, admitting defeat to the protectiveness of Hermione's friend. "Well, I suppose I should carry on." Minerva stood. "Have a delightful evening. Happy new year." She strode off, nodding and waving to other acquaintances as she went.

Harry kept an eye on Minerva as she worked the room. When he noticed her move toward the exit he bolted after her. Slamming through the door, he found her nearing the floo network.

"Minerva…wait!" he called out, stopping her in her tracks.

"What is it, Harry?" Minerva turned back towards him with concern.

"Right…so…" Harry nervously looked around. "I am really stepping in where I don't belong, but…" He took a deep breath and blew out his concern. "She'sinlovewithyousodon'tplaywithher."

"Excuse me?" Minerva's voice took on a menacing tone.

"Hermione… she is in love with you." He stated clearly. "Don't play with her like this is some cat and mouse game. If you don't…or can't reciprocate her feelings, then don't go."

"Mr. Potter!" Minerva glared, once again the strict professor of his childhood. "You are correct. This is absolutely none of your business."

Harry winced at the angry words spoken in a heavy brogue.

Minerva suddenly stepped forward and engulfed Harry in her arms.

"You are a great friend, Harry Potter." She whispered fiercely into his ear before planting a kiss on his cheek. Leaving him for the floo she added, "Dae nae worry. This is not a game. Go back to your party."

"Brilliant!" Harry grinned as she vanished in a flash of green.

A steaming shower, comfy pyjamas, and a spiked hot cocoa helped to take the edge off, but Hermione could not eliminate the image of Minerva in that dress. Her frustration was overwhelming. Her confusion was mind-boggling. The raven haired woman had explicitly denied her emotional overture. And yet, since that disheartening moment there had been so many inconsistencies. Hermione no longer knew if she was coming or going.

The chime of a clock told Hermine it was half eleven. She had spent almost two hours staring at the flames snapping in the fireplace. The only clear conclusion she had reached was she would once again be alone for the new year. She rose from the sofa and shuffled off towards bed, dragging her blanket along like a child when she was immobilized by a faint knock on her door.

Tempted to ignore the intrusion, Hermione thought it could be Ginny or Harry checking on her. Feeling a little guilty for running off, she changed direction and reached for the door. To her immediate dismay she found Minerva McGonagall looming over her, leaning into her doorway with one hand on either side of the doorframe.

Minerva sauntered past without invitation. In the sitting room, she turned to eye Hermione, her gaze running from fuzzy slippers up a pyjama clad body and over a face flushed with embarrassment to troubled espresso eyes.

"I had hoped you would allow me a dance." Minerva stated.

"I can't do this anymore, Minerva."

"No, I suppose you cannae. But perhaps you can do something else? Something…more?"

"Please don't…"

"Hermione." Minerva slid closer to the younger woman and reached out with a hand, her fingers brushing against and then gently supporting Hermione's wrist, reverently cradling the tattoo. "I believe I have been remiss with keeping you apprised of certain… developments over the last few months."

"I'm not…"

"Will you give me a moment to try to rectify my indiscretions?"

"Fine." Hermione flung herself onto the sofa, curling into the corner and wrapping her arms around her knees to shield herself from harm.

Minerva gingerly settled beside her, her hands folded on her lap. She glanced briefly at Hermione before studying her own hands.

"A great many things have come to pass since the war. When you disappeared I was bereft. At the time I did not understand the reason nor the depth of my pain. You were often on my mind over the years. I always hoped you would reach out to me. Your application triggered a retroactive backlash of my affections. As we know, I reacted reprehensibly. I am embarrassed still."

Minerva pushed herself back, slouching into the couch and snagged a pillow to hug against her chest.

"Then that whole Varick Vakos business…" Minerva eyed Hermione warily. "I am aware your protection charm encompassed me but not the others. I have learned enough in my years to understand the significance of that phenomenon. Despite my deep-seated fondness for you, I rebuffed your proffer of a more profound connection for orthodox reasons, at best."

"And at worst?" Hermione challenged.

"Hmm, well… At worst; basic fear."

Minerva let her gaze travel over Hermione's visage, trying to read the woman's current disposition. "I recognize this has not been my best year. I have gracelessly bumbled through this entire reunion. I have neither excuse for nor comprehension of my actions. I only know that you affect me in ways that make me behave as I never have. For instance…" she waved a hand over her body indicating her gown as evidence.

Hermione smiled saucily, "I don't see that as a problem."

"I am quite sure I ruined my reputation this evening."

Minerva tossed the pillow she was clutching away and sat up to the edge of the cushion again. She twisted to square off with Hermione. "I never want to see you hurt. I tried ever so hard to protect you all these years. From your time in school, through the war, and during your self-imposed reclusion, I always did what I thought best; to the extent of my own detriment. And yet, here I am acting like a foolish lovesick lass attempting to sway your sentiment to my favor. I have forsaken my oath. I no longer wish to protect you from this… from me." Minerva's green eyes sought ought Hermione's espresso orbs.

"I have missed you." She whispered reverently.

Hermione unwound from her defensive position, planted her feet on the floor and scooched closer to Minerva. Extending a hand, she slid her fingers into Minerva's hand resting on the seat between them.

"You no longer have to protect me. I am fully equipped to fend for myself. To be candid, everything I have done since the war was to show you that very fact, to prove I am not helplessly dependent on you, and to be accepted as an equal. What hurt was the fact you wouldn't see that."

"Oh, but I did." Minerva turned Hermione's hand and began to trace her fingers over the tattoo. "Helmsdale unmistakably demonstrated just how equal we are. For lack of a better word, you were magnificent. How you took charge of the entire spectacle and your confidence confronting Vakos. Your self-assurance is rather attractive."

"Why, Minerva McGonagall, are you admitting to a possible interest in me?"

"Admitting, asserting, declaring a very potent, brilliant, and intoxicating interest."

"I doubt as intoxicating as you in this gown."

"Oh, do you like this?" Minerva preened.

"I really do." Hermione reached up to run her fingertips along the neckline of the dress.

"I must admit, I appreciated your frock as well."

"Did you?"

Hermione caught a flash in Minerva's eyes.

"Indeed."

"Would you care to 'appreciate' it again?"

"I would not object."

Hermione abruptly stood and started toward her bedroom.

"Give me a minute."

Minerva tended the fire in Hermione's absence and was posed leaning with one hand against the mantel on her return. A slight shuffle caught her attention. An astonished gasp exploded from her chest when she caught sight Hermione fully dressed and made up as she was at the gala.

"Oh, my. You are ravishing."

A skeptical smile flitted across Hermione's lips. "My exact thoughts when I first laid eyes on you tonight."

Minerva pushed herself away from the fire and offered a hand to Hermione.

"May I have this dance?" With a subtle flick of her wand, the furniture slid to the edges of the room.

Hermione giggled and accepted the hand.

Minerva pulled her close and swept her into a slow box step leading Hermione to the music in her heart.

"Where do you hide your wand?" Hermione wondered aloud.

Minerva smiled and held her right hand up, displaying a wooden bracelet around her wrist.

"Oh, that is ingenious. Does transfiguring have any lasting effects?"

"Not at all. Just as changing an owl into a goblet does not modify or harm the owl once reverted. This is even less invasive."

They danced on in silence, simply breathing each other in. Hermione's free hand drifted up, slid along Minerva's neck and tangled into her lustrous obsidian mane. "So beautiful" she breathed against Minerva's throat.

"Och, gaol. Please dinnae tease an auld woman."

"I love it when you go all Scot on me." Hermione sighed melodramatically.

"Dinnae push me, lassie. Ah kin pit back tae mah ancestral roots."

Hermione leaned back enough to catch Minerva's glassy eyes. "What does that mean to me, exactly?" she challenged.

"Let me juist say, thare wur some McGonagalls wha simply teuk whit thay wanted."

"That doesn't seem a reason for me to stop." Hermione breathed into Minerva's ear before catching a bejeweled lobe in her teeth.

Hermione squealed as she was spun around and pressed against the nearest wall. Lips pressed urgently to her throat, a hand pulled at the back of her thigh, and fingers twisted in her hair. Refusing to succumb to the onslaught, she palmed Minerva's cheek and redirected her attention, their lips meeting with enthusiasm.

Hermione pushed back from Minerva again. Breathlessly she panted, "You cannot leave tonight."

"Dear hert, ah cuid nae be dragged awa'."

Lips brushing together again, Hermione insisted, "Take me to bed."

Hermione lay on her side, head propped up on a hand, as she absently drew designs across Minerva's bare back. The dozing woman was lying prone, her face turned away from Hermione. At the sound of an amused groan from the surprisingly lithe witch, Hermione pushed herself up and crawled over Minerva's frame, hovering over the enticing body. She dropped a kiss to a chilled shoulder before lowering her body to cover Minerva's like a living blanket. She ran her hands down long sculpted arms to weave her fingers with Minerva's.

At a weighty sigh Hermione inquired, "Am I too heavy?"

"No ghràdh, a'm juist content."

"Content?" Hermione jabbed. "I'm sore."

An indelicate snort huffed from her captive.

Finally cracking her eyes open, Minerva gasped as she saw the condition of Hermione's room. Debris was scattered everywhere. There was a pile of splintered wood where there once was a chair. The mirror in the corner was now an empty frame with glass shards scattered out across the floor. Other minor but noticeable damage was strewn about the room.

"I already repaired the window." Hermione laughingly explained.

"Oh dear. Apparently we got a bit… energetic last night."

"I didn't know it was a thing." Hermione trailed her lips from a shoulder to the base of Minerva's skull before burrowing her nose in Minerva's hair.

"I'm not sure it is a 'thing'. But it has been known to happen on occasion."

"What occasions? Holidays?"

Minerva stretched and pinched Hermione's thigh. "No. On the occasion people get excessively amorous."

"I don't think I understand, Professor. Could you maybe explain this theory with examples?"

Minerva bucked Hermione off her back and proceeded to educate the younger witch. At the sound of glass breaking, Hermione laughed. "I just repaired that."

A silver tabby cat sprinted down the stairwell from the Gryffindor tower. Running along the hallways and staying close to the walls, Minerva hoped to reach her office without notice. She was within sight of the tower stairs when a sharp voice caught her.

"Minerva, you randy old cat. What have you been up to?"

With no escape, Minerva morphed back to her natural form.

"Rolanda, I would appreciate a bit more delicacy."

"I'm sure you would." Rolanda guffawed. "Delicacy is the least of your problems. You magical signature was underlying the entire light show. I expect everyone in Hogsmeade enjoyed the fireworks.

"Don't you have a quidditch practice to attend?"

"In a few. I've been busy making repairs around the castle this morning."

"What repairs?"

"Shattered mirrors, picture frames, your chair in the dining hall... You know, collateral damage."

Minerva could feel the burn of embarrassment creeping up her face.

"Is anyone else…"

"Nah. Lucky for you, I'm the only one on duty this weekend. Fancy is away with her husband celebrating an anniversary and Sybill is… well, Sybill."

"Quite."

"So, who is it?"

"Who is…?"

"Who are you shagging?"

"Rolanda! I will not stand here and have you mock me."

Minerva turned on a heel and stormed off to her office, leaving a chortling Rolanda Hooch in her wake.

Minerva was able to get a few hours of work done without interruption. At five o'clock, as the clock chimed, Hermione breezed in without hesitation. She marched directly to Minerva and leaned down into a welcoming kiss.

"Mmmmm, thank you." Minerva hummed.

"My pleasure." Hermione whispered, stealing another kiss before giving Minerva breathing room.

"We've been caught out." Minerva announced, getting straight to the point.

"Really? Who?"

"Rolanda, of all people."

"How did she…?"

"It would seem we caused damage beyond your quarters."

"Oh, no. Is this a problem, Min?"

Minerva leaned back in her seat, studying Hermione's face. Feeling everything within her right itself under Hermione's gaze, Minerva smiled softly and shook her head. "No. It is not a problem. It is just an annoyance. More so, she is an annoyance."

"What happened?" Hermione knew there was a story behind Minerva's exasperation.

Minerva deserted her work and led Hermione to her private quarters. Once settled into the sofa with Hermione snuggled into her side, Minerva explained.

"I encountered her on my way back here this afternoon. It did not take her much to figure things out. Apparently she was busy this morning repairing some minor damage around the school."

The intonation of Minerva's words said all Hermione needed to know.

"Around the school? Really? How far?"

"At least as far as the dining hall. My seat suffered."

"Wow. You really rocked my world." Hermione tittered.

Minerva squeezed Hermione tightly and placed a kiss to her temple. "That goes both ways."

"What was she doing here anyway? I thought she was visiting family for the holidays."

"She was covering the duty roster for the weekend. Even with the students out of the building, we keep a skeleton crew on. And she was holding a quidditch practice."

"You quidditch players are an obsessive sort."

"I don't know why you can't recognize the beauty of the game."

"I can appreciate the beauty of you on a broom. But the game is just way too dangerous."

"You sound entirely biased."

"I am."

Hermione broke away to adjust her position. She turned to straddle Minerva's legs and leaned in to partake in her favorite pastime. Minerva blocked Hermione's progress when her hands had successfully divested Minerva's top of its buttons. Sitting up, Minerva stilled Hermione's hands and forced the younger woman off her lap. She stood, dragging Hermione up with her.

"I think we can find a more comfortable location to continue this discourse."

In order to maintain respect in the classroom, Hermione and Minerva kept to their usual schedules. Their established Friday visits remained invariable when the students returned from holiday. The only change discernible to underage observers, should anyone have bothered to pay attention, was the frequent appearance of a silver tabby cat passing through the halls after hours and early mornings.

On Valentine's Day classes were canceled for half the day to allow preparation for the evening's dance. Hermione, dressed in suitable dress robes, arrived at Minerva's rooms to share a light tea before the festivities officially began. The gargoyle slid aside at the whispered password and the stairs delivered Hermione to the office. She let herself through to Minerva's rooms just as Minerva received a package by owl.

"Should I be jealous?" Hermione joked at the sight of red roses peeking from the top of the wrapping.

"Jealous?" Minerva raised an eyebrow. "These are not from you?"

"Sorry. I'm wearing your Valentine's gift under these robes." Hermione bantered.

"Well then, the card…"

Minerva's fingers grasped the attached card and she vanished.

"MINERVA !" Hermione spun at the sound of the floo in the office hissing. She ran from the sitting room and crashed into Harry.

"Hermione, Vakos has escaped." "Minerva disappeared." They shouted at the same time.

"What?!" again in stereo.

"Minerva disappeared." Hermione repeated. "Just now."

"Vakos has escaped." Harry replied.

"Fuck." In stereo.

"When did he get out?"

"Possibly a week ago."

"Possibly…? What the fuck, Harry? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We just discovered. He switched with his lawyer under polyjuice. One of the guards was bought off."

"God damn it! He has Minerva."

"How?"

"The roses." Hermione waved towards the door to Minerva's quarters. "As soon as she touched the card she disappeared."

They both collapsed into chairs staring helplessly at each other.

Minerva sprang to her feet, expertly quelling the effects of portkey travel. That's as far as she got since she was immediately hit with a full body- bind curse.

"Ah, Headmistress McGonagall, how thoughtful of you to join us." A gravelly voice sounded from behind her. "I do hope you don't mind the delayed invitation. I am aware you will be missing the Valentine's ball, but I'm sure you will find this party as equally entertaining."

Varick Vakos stepped into Minerva's line of sight as he spoke. She realized he was much larger than she had remembered as he leaned into her face.

"I expect Ms. Granger will find you without much delay, but I still must ask you for your wand."

Whoever had cast the binding spell released her right arm. Vakos held his hand out expectantly.

Minerva closed her eyes to communicate she did not have her wand.

Vakos pursed his lips in annoyance. "I am not playing with you. Your wand or…"

Minerva closed her eyes once again. In retaliation she was struck down with a stupefy curse to her back.

Hermione agitatedly paced across the floor, chewing at her thumbnail as she furiously thought. She stopped abruptly, paused to finish a thought, and then bolted back into Minerva's private rooms.

Harry followed, curious to know what Hermione came up with. He found her with a bouquet of roses in her hands, staring at them like she was trying to divine the end of time.

"What are you doing?"

"I think I can trace her."

"Trace her?"

"Yes. I've only seen it done over short distance disapparation

, but it might work."

"Do you need anything?"

"Quiet. If anyone comes, keep them out in the office."

"Right. Well… right, ok. Good luck."

Harry closed the door to Minerva's quarters, leaving Hermione to do what only she would be able to do.

"Got her!" Hermione yelped as she burst into the office space an hour after being left to her own devices.

"What?"

"I found her." Hermione grinned in triumph.

"How?"

"Everything leaves something behind. It's a law of nature. Physics, if you will. I followed the energy trail."

"Merlin's beard, Hermione. How do you do these things?"

"All my studying has to be good for something." She countered.

"Right. So where is she?"

"France. Hégenheim, to be precise."

"I'll inform Ron. We can get a portkey there within an hour."

Hermione retreated through a doorway Harry hadn't previously noticed, only to return shortly dressed in jeans, jumper, hiking boots and a wool coat.

"What…?" Harry asked so many questions with that one word.

"I'm going after her. Catch up when you can."

"Hermione, wait…"

Harry's plea fell on empty space.

"Bloody hell." He muttered to himself as he ran towards the floo.

Harry arrived at the DMLE offices and raced to the Ministry of Magic Witch Watchers office. Bursting through the door he shouted. "Did you find them?"

"There's a team from Montbéliard on the ground. Nothing yet." Ron reported.

"Portkey?"

"Fifteen minutes." The voice of Antonia Moretti called from a cubicle in the back.

"Ahhh." Harry groaned in frustration.

Hermione apparated to a park off Rue du Stade. She settled into a near trance, her respiratory rate slowed to only two breaths per minute as her heart rate slowed to 20 beats. Every fiber of her being was employed to seek out the whereabouts of Minerva. She felt a familiar vibration buzzing at the base of her spine. Concentrating on the telltale caress of Minerva's magical signature, Hermione set off, following the signal like a beacon.

450 meters down the road, the vibration had her entire body aquiver. She had arrived at a small solitary building, a good distance from neighboring dwellings. She couldn't detect any sign of life, but the amplitude of magical potentiality was off the charts.

Standing in the night shadow of a large tree, Hermione began to prepare her offensive by first setting up a defense. She set protection runes around the property to keep surrounding homes safe against stray magic. Once the perimeter was secure, she conjured the green dragon and set it off across the field to seek out its ordained responsibility. Following hastily, she ignored the echo of Harry's voice in her head begging her to wait.

Fully aware she was walking into a trap; Hermione decided to avoid artfulness and simply entered through the front door.

"Lumos"

Rather than a light emitting from a wand, Hermione's barked command lit up the entire house. It took only a millisecond for her to comprehend the scene at hand.

Minerva was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. It was obvious she had suffered from a number of hexes. She looked for all the world like she had been mugged in a back alley of London. Varick Vakos was standing directly behind Minerva with his wand pointed at the back of her head. There were five other people posted around the room and on the front staircase with their wands pointed at Hermione.

"Ms. Granger, I am pleased you could make it." Vakos drawled, his voice oozing malice. "Please throw your wand away."

Hermione pulled a wand from her back pocket and tossed it across the room.

"Thank you for making this easy for us."

"You do know I'm not needed to put you away. They have my memories for the pensieve."

"I do know that. This is simply revenge."

"So you don't care that a team of aurors is on the way here as we speak?"

"It won't matter. You'll be dead before they arrive."

No one noticed Hermione's fingers working in an intricate design. Nor were they aware both the magical and physical binds holding Minerva in place were released.

In his confidence, Vakos had moved from behind Minerva, taking all attention off the very capable witch.

The wooden bracelet around Minerva's wrist shimmered and stretched, slipping down her wrist. With the wand firmly grasped in her hand, Minerva dropped her head in a nod.

"I must say, it is a pity I am forced to finish you. You would be a splendid addition to my collection." Vakos raised his arm, aiming his wand at Hermione's heart. "But, needs must."

The explosion rocked the house off its foundation. In an instant the green dragons arose and encircled Hermione and Minerva. Minerva threw curses at the three henchmen in her line of sight. And Hermione dropped Vakos before he could complete the first syllable of the unforgivable curse he had planned to use against Hermione.

Hermione spun around and easily deflected the curses shot from the two remaining accomplices at the front of the house. Throwing counter curses, she turned one man into a stone statue and the second was thrown through the front door and left to lie in agony on the front lawn.

Facing each other across the room Minerva tilted her head slightly and cocked an eyebrow in evaluation of her rescuer.

"It teuk ye lang enough."

Hermione barked out a laugh. They met in the middle of the room, arms automatically encircling one another in a desperate embrace. After a dozen breaths inhaling each other's scent and synching their heartbeats, Minerva broke the moment. "Ow." She breathed.

Hermione released her and took a step back, joining their hands she held Minerva at arms' length to better look at her.

"How bad is it?"

"Mostly superficial. That little man in the hideous jumper hit me with a stunner and then a stinging jinx when I refused to give up my wand."

"That the worst?"

"That they did intentionally, yes. My ribs are suffering from my portkey mislanding."

Minerva glanced around the room, absorbing the extent of the damages. Her visual travels froze when her eyes landed on the body of Vakos. Even from the distance across the room, she could tell he was deceased. She looked back at Hermione with uncertainty.

"Did you mean to?"

"I did." Hermione admitted.

"Did you plan to?"

"No. It just…happened."

"Are you alright?"

Hermione studied the open face before her. She perceived love, awe, concern, approval, and worry. But mostly, she recognized her future.

"Yeah. I'm good." She acknowledged, stepping forward to once again wrap her arms assuredly around the woman who gave her a reason to fight.

The sound of voices nearing severed their peaceful connection. Hermione turned, and interlacing her fingers with Minerva's, led the injured woman from the remains of the melee.

Harry was the first to meet them. Taking one look at Minerva and surveying the nearby destruction, he summed up his observation sagely; "Savage."

"Did you happen to bring a healer with you?" Hermione asked pragmatically.

"No. Didn't think. But Thadeus Bell over there has medic training."

"Right. Vakos is inside." Hermione updated him before guiding Minerva to sit under the tree and calling out for Thadeus.

Harry strode past the one collaborator Hermione had blasted from the house as he was being shackled and joined Ron in the house.

"Bloody hell. What happened in here?" Ron asked, astounded by the wreckage.

Harry found Varick and crouched down to better evaluate him. The man was on his back, his dead eyes locked in an expression of complete surprise, and his mouth open as if conversing. His wand was locked in the grip of his frozen hand.

"Damn, what did Minerva hit him with?" Ron wondered aloud.

"I don't think it was Minerva." Harry suggested.

"What? 'Mione? No way. She doesn't fight anymore."

"I know."

Minerva was released from hospital on assurance she would seek medical follow up on her own. She accepted Hermione's arm for support as they found their way to the floo network. Arriving home, Minerva nearly collapsed in Hermione's embrace.

"Come on, Min. Just to the bed?"

Hermione assisted Minerva into a sleepshirt and stood by as the exhausted witch crawled into bed. She pulled the covers up to tuck Minerva in while smiling into the eye roll directed back at her.

"Humor me. I want to be sure you're all safe and warm."

"Get over." Minerva protested through a laugh. "Come to bed?" she offered.

"You sure?"

"It is what I most desire."

Hermione quickly changed and slipped under the blankets, scooting close to Minerva and settling an arm across her waist. Placing a kiss on Minerva's shoulder, Hermione sighed with relief against the warm skin.

"You are my hero." Minerva quipped.

Hermione's lack of retort worried Minerva. Rolling onto her side to fully face her love, she was startled by the anger in Hermione's eyes.

"Hermione, whatever is the matter?"

"It never should have happened. The entire incident was a total cock-up." Hermione glared indignantly. "I ended up killing a man tonight. I have questions. How did this happen? How did he escape? How did he know to go after you?"

"Hermione, I do not have the answers, nor can I honestly say you made the wrong decision. I expect we will eventually uncover the truth, however, no matter my opinion of your choices or my theories, you are the one who must forgive yourself. I love you. And I am really glad you came to rescue me." Minerva ended with her lips against Hermione's forehead.

They lay together quietly, listening to the sounds of their breaths, their heartbeats; their life force.

Just as Hermione began to drift Minerva pondered, "I wonder how the dance succeeded."

Hermione snorted a laugh against Minerva's neck and then snuggled in closer, finding comfort in the heat of her body.

Hermione sped down the corridor, late for her appointed meeting. She rounded a corner to espy Harry waiting just outside the office door.

"Hermione," He greeted somberly. "I'm sorry for this."

"No worries, Harry. It wasn't your decision."

"Yeah, but why an investigation? Everyone knows what happened."

"Harry, how long have you been in this job? There was an incident that resulted in someone's death. It wasn't an accident. So, of course there must be an investigation."

"I still think it's a waste of everyone's time."

"Of that, I agree. Now, let's go in. I'm already late."

Harry pulled the door open and they entered the Investigative Department of the DMLE. A young woman directed them to an interview room where Kingsley Shacklebolt and Penelope Payne, an experienced lead investigator in the department waited.

"Ms. Granger. Thank you for coming on such short notice. As I'm sure you can agree, the quicker we put this issue to rest, the better for all involved."

"Mrs. Payne, Minster," Hermione nodded. "I apologize for my tardiness, but getting away from Hogwarts last minute is a difficult task, to be sure."

Kingsley smiled understandingly at her excuse. "Of course, Ms. Granger."

"So, how can I help?"

"Ms. Granger, this is a formal investigation into events occurring the evening of 14 February 2012 in Montbéliard, France, involving you and Minerva McGonagall."

"Right, and?"

"Will you please share your version of these events as they unfolded, to the best of your recollection?"

"Of course."

Hermione relayed her account of the night from the moment she had entered Minerva's office until they walked away from the scene of the assault.

"So your assertion is that your actions, which resulted in the death of Varick Vakos, were strictly self-defense and not premeditated?"

"It was self-defense." Hermione maintained despite the note of doubt in Penelope Payne's voice. "I will grant I may have defended myself more aggressively than one usually would, however, Mr. Vakos had, on multiple occasions vowed to murder me if he had the chance. He spoke of his intentions again, right before he turned his wand on me. My response was valid, given his threat against me and his actions against Headmistress McGonagall that night. I was left with little choice. In the uproar of the skirmish, I reflexively did what I needed to do to end the threat."

"Ms. Granger, do you know Ewald Grimbly?"

"Professor Grimbly? Of course I do. He's the Arithmancy instructor at Hogwarts. Why?"

"Have you had any altercations with Mr. Grimbly?"

"No." Hermione protested. "I've barely even spoken to the man. Why?"

"Mr. Grimbly," Kingsley's deep voice resonated in the room, "has confessed to assisting Mr. Vakos."

"What?!"

"Although not an avowed death eater, he does apparently buy into the whole muggle exclusion theory. He was, to say the least, not happy about your position at Hogwarts or Minerva's favoritism towards you."

Hermione paled at the last part of the statement.

"He admitted to divulging the reduction in the school's warding net for the allowance of freer access of the visitors to the Valentine's Day ball which allowed the use of a portkey. He also speculated about a relationship between you and Headmistress McGonagall of a nature more personal than professional, thus hatching the nefarious plan."

"What does his confession have to do with me?"

"Ms. Granger," Penelope took the lead again. "What curse did you use against Varick Vakos?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What curse did you use? We found your wand at the scene, but there was no evidence of any use that evening, never mind a killing curse. And the remains of Mr. Vakos do not lend to you using any of the known unforgiveable curses on him. So, I ask again, what curse did you use?"

Hermione stared at Penelope as the implications of her possible answer bloomed in her mind.

"Maybe Mr. Vakos simply had a heart attack from all the stress."

"Ms. Granger, this is not a time for wisecracks. A man is dead, and from all evidence, it would appear you were the cause of his demise. We must know what magic was utilized."

"Do I need a solicitor?" she asked directly.

"No." Kingsley assured her. "Legally, you did not use a prohibited unforgiveable curse. We cannot bring action against you since there does not appear to be any wrongful use of magic." He explained, his eyes boring into Penelope's to reign her in. "All accounts corroborate your narrative of self-defense. I can assure you, we are not proceeding with any legal action, Hermione. We are simply attempting to explain all the unanswered questions left. "

"Well, if there is not legal cause for me to reveal the spells I used during combat with a convicted murderer, then I prefer not to share. Is there anything else?"

"No." Kingsley ruled. "There is nothing else." His words, inflection, and angry glare at Penelope mandated the case closed.

"Professor Grimbly was complicit?" Minerva's voice exuded doubt.

"I know. Right?" Hermione emerged from the bathroom and leaned against the door frame, drying her hands on a towel. "Who would have thought? I mean, the extent of my interaction with him was 'good to meet you.' Goes to show you can't account for anybody's ideology."

"So," Minerva's arms folded across her chest. "We have been outed to the head of our government by that little troll." She stated undeniably. "I suppose there is no longer a need to hide from the rest of the world."

Hermione sauntered across the floor and climbed onto the foot of the bed. With affected feline grace, she crawled across the mattress and loomed over Minerva.

The dark witch slid from the headboard to stretch out prone beneath her sultry paramour.

Lowering herself slowly onto her elbows Hermione settled her weight upon Minerva, molding their bodies together. As Minerva welcomed her with arms and legs wrapping about her, pulling her closer, Hermione breathed a happy sigh across her lover's throat.

"This ok?" Hermione questioned, concerned about Minerva's bruised ribs.

"This," Minerva nipped lightly at Hermione's throat, "Is perfect."

They lay quietly together for a dozen heartbeats before Minerva voiced her thoughts. "No proclamation." she began, dropping a kiss to Hermione's jaw. "No exaggerated public display." Another kiss. "Just you and me, living our lives." She ended with smiling lips against Hermione's.

Hermione laughed. "You have to let me tell Harry and Ginny." Her eyes sparkled playfully.

After a leisurely affectionate kiss that allowed a long moment of contemplation, Minerva agreed. "Fine, you may share with your compatriots." Pursing her lips in displeasure she added, "I doubt Ginevra will be able to keep it secret so, the entire Weasley family will be duly informed by Sunday dinner, I imagine."

"Don't scowl, Min." Hermione giggled. "I know you don't really care. Besides, this way we get to avoid repetitive explanations. We actually come out ahead."

"You know I am not…comfortable with others examining my life."

Hermione took time to distract and ease Minerva's worry with a provocative exploration of her exposed flesh.

"No one is examining us, Min." Hermione breathed across the top of her sternum. "And even if they were, all they would find is an undeniable love. So let 'em look."

"I had no idea you were an exhibitionist." Minerva teased.

"Only for your eyes; any place, any time." Hermione chuckled against Minerva's squirming belly.

"Smooth talker. We'll see whose laughing when we are interrogated at the next gathering."

"As long as we're together, who cares?" Hermione posed, nipping at Minerva's hip.

Minerva soon dug her fingers into fistfuls of blanket.

"Dear god, Mo ghràdh, dinnae ever lea me."

Music of My Heart

NSYNC & Gloria Estefan

You'll never know

What you've done for me

What your faith in me

Has done for my soul

And you'll never know the gift you've given me

I'll carry it with me

Through the days ahead I'll think of days before

You made me hope for something better

And made me reach for something more

You taught me to run

You taught me to fly

Helped me to free the me inside

Helped me hear the music of my heart

Helped me hear the music of my heart

You opened my eyes

You opened the door

To something I'd never known before

And your love

Is the music of my heart

You were the one

Always on my side

Always standing by

Seeing me through

You were the song that always made me sing

I'm singing this for you

Everywhere I go I'll think of where I've been

And you're the one who knew me better than anyone ever will again

You taught me to run

You taught me to fly

Helped me to free the me inside

Helped me hear the music of my heart

Helped me hear the music of my heart

You opened my eyes

You opened the door (you opened the door)

To something I'd never known before (oh oh)

And your love (your love)

Is the music of my heart

What you taught me

Only your love could ever teach me

You got through when no one else could reach me (baby oh oh oh)

'Cause you always saw in me

All the best that I could be

It was you who set me free

You taught me to run

You taught me to fly

Helped me to free the me inside (me inside)

Helped me hear the music of my heart

Helped me hear the music of my heart

You taught me to run

You taught me to fly

Helped me to free the me inside (me inside)

Helped me hear the music of my heart (music of my heart)

Helped me hear the music of my heart (yeah yeah)

You opened my eyes

You opened the door (opened the door)

To something I'd never known before (never, never, never felt before)

And your love

Is the music of my heart

The music of my heart

Music of my heart

Is the music of my heart

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Diane Eve Warren

Music of My Heart lyrics © Realsong