Chapter 8: Aftermath Of First One


May 7, 1998

The following day


Darling,

I loathe leaving your warmth, and it was truly difficult for me to get up from our bed this morning, but there are these blasted meetings I have to attend.

Do explore the Manor however you desire. The first room on the second floor of the west wing will surely entice you, but please do not forsake mealtimes! You will need the energy tonight, as I have every intention to ravish you...

I do hope no imbecile would prolong the meeting and delay my coming home to you, or else I'd have to hex the poor soul.

I already miss you…

. . . . . . .

Hermione re-read the short letter for the seventh— maybe eighth or tenth time today. She could not help but again scan her eyes across words written by Minerva for her, nor the Cheshire grin that would adorn her face after she read them.

When she woke up that morning, memories of how she spent the latter part of last night, plus the lingering scent of Minerva and her, and them combined, immediately put a huge smile on her face.

When she stretched and turned on one side, she was greeted by a beautiful rose propped on the bedside table with the aforementioned letter, and a notable vine dragon heartstring— her wand. She knew she left her wand in the other room, and she chucked at Minerva's natural conscientiousness.

She reached for the rose first and ascertained right away that Minerva had placed a charm on it. The petals seemed to be breathing and the stem, with few leaves and thorns, was actually exquisite metal and stones. It also smelled so fresh, and Hermione had never seen a rose as beautiful, but considering the giver, one should not be so surprised at its extraordinaire.

Of all the many clichés in life that people fall into, she actually fell into just one— the one where her most favorite flower was the rose. When she was a kid, she planted a rose bush in their backyard, and her mom often told her the story of how she cried in elation when the plant bloomed its first flower, and how she also cried in grief when the entire thing died... And how they were so surprised at how it was revived just the following morning. That incident in her childhood was one of those things that had been explained when she found out that she was a witch...

She wondered if it was just coincidence that Minerva had chosen a rose to give her from all the flowers in the world.

After smelling again the flower, like the in love person that she was, she reached for the note and read it for the first time while still in bed, and still very naked.

Just by how the letter was addressed with the endearment 'Darling', Hermione's mind easily paraded moments of when Minerva called her as such and how the word would roll off Minerva's tongue and give her heart a jolt.

At Minerva's line of 'I have every intention to ravish you...' she brushed profusely. Then laughed aloud at the next words, as they seemed to be so Minerva with that exasperated reference to 'imbecile' and 'hexing of poor soul'. The witch's wicked sense of humour was one of the things she had long discovered and loved about Minerva.

"I also miss you already…" Hermione said to no one in the bedroom, in response to Minerva's parting line in the letter.

She quickly re-read the entire note for the second time before she got up and headed to the bathroom with a plan to exactly follow Minerva's recommendation to explore the manor, and follow the instruction not to skip meals.

After taking a bath, she was so touched that Dolly seemed to have guessed her need of clothes when she found one of Minerva's simple linen pants and blouse laid out on the bed. After a simple magic adjustment on the pants' length and her hair's ribbon lengthened and tied around her waist, she headed out of the room to hunt for breakfast.

Actually she realized that she was starving a bit because when she woke up, it was almost mid-morning and it was the streaming sun that roused her. She was surprised at how long she had slept and how uninterrupted it was. It had been about two years, or even more than that that she had unruffled sleep. Again, her mouth curved into another smile at the recollection of how she spent the latter part of last night— making love— with Minerva. And how obviously it was the reason for her peaceful slumber.

Last night, when their heavy breathing from the culmination finally eased into a manageable level, Minerva had shifted their position and slid back on her side and once again snuggled under Hermione's chin, then procured sheets over them with a wave of her hand.

Hermione could not believe how much Minerva liked to cuddle. The woman pressed their bodies close and intertwined their legs the entire time. She also felt thin lips brushed her clavicles from time to time, and fingered her spine quite randomly. The tenderness was too exquisite, and despite wanting to commit each moment, each stroke to memory, Hermione succumbed to a long overdue contented sleep.

When she stepped out of the room, as she was deciding which way to go, Dolly appeared before her and greeted her a good morning. Then the elf asked what she would like for breakfast as they walked towards a grand staircase that took her breath away.

When Dolly repeated her question, and drew her attention back, Hermione instead asked if she could go with Dolly to the kitchen and make her own waffles and eggs. After Dolly confirmed two more times that that's what she wanted to do, Dolly smiled brightly at her before directing their steps towards the kitchen.

In there, Hermione met two other elves residing at the manor who were already getting out the ingredients and another young elf carrying oranges to be made for her drink. After introductions were made and it was expressed that Hermione wanted to make her own breakfast, they compromised on doing the tasks all together, thus complicating the should have been simple waffles and eggs with so many hands digging into making them. But no one minded.

Hermione also wanted to eat with them but discovered that everyone had breakfast hours ago and so she settled into eating at the kitchen table while Dolly narrated a few stories about the elves at the manor.

Afterwards, Dolly gave her a tour of the manor's first floor and she was flabbergasted at the ballroom's grandeur. It almost covered the entire east wing of that floor, a bit short of half of Hogwarts' great hall, but still very large in size. However, it was not lost on Hermione on how sad it made Dolly when the elf said that the last time it was lit with a joyful affair was even before Minerva was born, when Dolly herself was a very young elf.

When they reached the den, Dolly's sadness was once again evident when she mentioned that it must have been a couple of decades since the charming room echoed with laughter from guests and friends of Minerva.

Hermione remembered that she had not even known of McGonagall Manor, that there was even a misleading reference to Hogwarts as Minerva's place of residence. But now knowing several details about Minerva, Hermione astutely comprehended how these things affected the manor's activities, which affected the other residents of the place.

Hermione could not say anything but reached out to Dolly's shoulder, and to her surprise, the elderly elf's somber face was replaced with something akin to a hopeful one. Hermione could not help herself, and returned the smile.

Before they proceed to the second floor, they opted to have lunch. Even though she just had waffles and eggs, Hermione curiously found herself already hungry. This time, the elves dined with her, or rather she dined with them.

She actually ate heartily; surely following Minerva's instruction from the note. The note which she re-read a few more times like a witless person when Dolly temporarily left her earlier to check on others about their lunch arrangement.

When they went back to the second floor after an enjoyable lunch, she discovered that the rooms she slept in were located in the far most area of the east wing. Dolly also showed her several notable guest quarters. Then they ventured to the west wing. Hermione's delight could not be contained upon entering that first room, the one Minerva mentioned in the note. And anyone who knew Hermione could easily guess that the room she just discovered was none other than the library— the McGonagall's private library!

There, as anticipated by Minerva, Hermione was utterly enticed. She spent the entire afternoon browsing the titles of the leather bound books, quite undecided on which ones to take out first. After she had scanned the shelves twice, she finally decided to pull about half a dozen books that she'd delve into. Already halfway into the first one, Dolly fetched her for dinner.

Regretting that she had to momentarily leave the room; she was consoled that Minerva would be home soon. 'Every intention to ravish you' floated into her mind and Dolly had to ask if she needed an outer jacket, because apparently she shuddered. She shook her head ardently, averted her eyes from yellow ones, afraid that Dolly would read the thought she tried to dispel in her mind— the thought of Minerva ravishing her.

After dinner, she went back to the library and settled into a corner nook. Not long afterward, she was lost in her reading and when she lifted her head from the book as she finished it, she found that about two hours had gone. And while she truly enjoyed the rare copy of Ancient Transfiguration, she wondered about Minerva.

She called Dolly and asked if Minerva had arrived, and was answered negatively. She thanked the elf and apologized for the disturbance, which the elf dismissed and assured her that she could always call her for anything.

With Minerva still out, she went to start a second book. But while reading it, she paused two times within an hour, and had asked Dolly about Minerva. Unfortunately she received the same negative answer.

She tried to be logical and pulled her brain instead of her eager heart at what to make of Minerva's delayed return and decided to chalk it up as some imbecile's doing. She considered that she was being unreasonable and impatient, as Minerva of course had a lot of important matters to attend to.

With the second book on hand, she transferred to Minerva's bedroom, and for a fleeting moment, wondered if she should go into the other room. But the doubt instantly vanished with one glance at the rose still propped at the bedside table. She then fingered the note from her pocket, and read it. Again. Even though the words were already burnt in her brain that first time she had read it.

Sometime later, when her hand brushed against the note that she had unconsciously placed on the bed beside her knee, she dragged her eyes from the book and checked the time.

When she realized that it would be midnight in about twenty minutes, she debated whether to disturb Dolly at such hour to ask about Minerva. But her wanting to know won and she called Dolly.

Unlike the previous times when Dolly would appear at her first call, now on her third utterance of Dolly's name, the elf did not answer. She decided to leave the bedroom and maybe wait for Minerva in the den. After all, she was far from being sleepy, and there is no way she would go to bed without Minerva.

She was about to swing her legs from the bed when the door opened and came in Minerva.

"Hi." Hermione's joyous greeting sounded too loud even to herself, but she didn't care; she was too delighted to see the witch. "Did you just get home? Were you able to get dinner? Did you hex some poor souls?" She realized she just rambled several sentences without pausing to let Minerva answer. Hermione chuckled at her silliness.

She stood from the bed and with barely two steps, she took notice that Minerva had not moved from the door upon entering. And that the woman was wearing a blanketed expression... It instantly worried Hermione, "What's wrong, Minerva?" she asked as she strode towards the woman, but before she could reach her, Minerva finally moved...

And away from her…

Hermione stopped dead, and seemed fastened to the spot, as only her eyes were able to follow Minerva, who moved towards one of the room's windows.

Still, Minerva did not speak, and with her back to her, Hermione could not see emerald eyes to gauge the woman. But with the woman's ramrod stance, it launched a wrenching fear at the pit of her stomach. "What happened, Minerva?"

For a time, Minerva still did not answer her. And Hermione was torn between wanting to go near her, and respecting the obvious space that the woman had created…

"I made a mistake."

The tone had Hermione's guts twisted further. But she braved it and asked, "What do you mean?"

Finally the woman turned and faced her, but did not really look at her when she spoke, "Last night, it was a mistake."

There.

The voice was almost inaudible, but Hermione heard it clearly. She also heard how it sounded absolutely devoid of any emotion with the matched blanketed face of Minerva… The beautiful face of the woman she loved… whom she made love to last night… who made love to her last night… who just said how it was a mistake…

"Last night was not a mistake." Hermione's soft voice floated, in contrast to her heart's violent refusal of Minerva's six-word sentence."

"It was. I should not have—" Despite the emotionless voice, one arm impatiently waved in the general direction of the bed.

Hermione's eyes followed the arm, and when it dropped, she stared at Minerva's clenched hand on her side. She remembered how it clenched the bedsheets when she was tasting and touching Minerva last night…

"Why?" Hermione questioned with obvious confusion of why Minerva had said things and continued to say things that she knew in her heart were untrue.

"Because it was a mistake." Minerva answered her in that damn emotionless tone.

Hermione stared at the presently hardened jaw and stiff neck, and her mind pushed to memories of when she trailed them with her tongue last night, and elicited an aroused groan from Minerva.

"Why?" Hermione's question now laced with desperation.

"You're the heralded Brain of the heralded Golden Trio, a bloody short sentence should not be too difficult for you to comprehend." The low and still emotionless tone did not make it less cruel. Hermione flinched… And so did Minerva…

Hermione stared at the thin lips that spat such ugly, hurtful words… lips that kissed her deeply last night. With that tongue that played with hers… Teeth that nipped her skin…

"Do you hate what happened…?" Hermione whispered, as emotions poured into her shaking voice. She had become powerless at the vulnerability invoked inside her, swallowing her pride completely. "Are you disgusted?"

Minerva did not answer, but an abhorrent countenance passed through her face… It made Hermione avert her eyes… And they landed on the note that must have fallen on the floor when she stood up.

Like an idiot, she 'acciod' the note from the floor wandlessly. As if in a trance, she held and stared at the words that made her heart swell with love the moment she read them… But now… Its writer had principally renounced them…

"Put that away." Minerva's tone had turned clipped and harsh.

"Why?" Hermione cried.

"It's another mistake."

"You wrote it for me."

"Another mistake I should not have committed."

"No! You never say, do, or write things that you don't mean."

"Now, I have."

Minerva deft wandless and wordless magic had the letter floated away from her Hermione's hand and in two seconds vanished into the air.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked in a tormented whisper as the gathered tears in her brown eyes finally fell. She also let her head fall as tears now came in earnest. The stabbing pain she felt at the start of this nightmare was quickly escalating to ranges she didn't know if she could survive.

She raised her eyes back to the woman to beg for hope… or at least for mercy… mercy not to finish her heart…

And through the cascading tears, she caught how Minerva averted her eyes when they met unexpectedly…

Emerald ones that turned into glassy ones when they made love…

"Look into my eyes this time and tell me that it was a mistake..."

Hermione held her breath as she waited for the woman to answer her challenge. When Minerva failed to respond right away, an infinitesimal fire of hope started in her heart that everything would be retracted. The fire grew significantly when Minerva's emerald eyes finally met her tearful brown ones, wherein she saw no hate and even a sliver of affection.

But emerald eyes drew up all the bloody walls, and then Hermione heard the finality in a quiet and deep Scottish brogue, "It was a mistake, Ms. Granger."

Hermione's world stopped… And she felt the crumbling begin.

"We made love and it was not a mistake," Hermione screamed… in sorrow, in denial, and in vulnerability.

"I fucked you and it was a mistake," Minerva roared back… in regret, in fear, and in anger.

Hermione stared at the lips that met hers in passion last night. Lips that tenderly whispered 'darling' to her, and passionately moaned her name when they were making love…

Now they battled with the ugly words the woman was voicing tonight…

Mistake… I should not have… Because it was a mistake… Put that away… Another mistake... I fucked you and it was a mistake…

They all came down hard on Hermione— and she lost the fight.

Hermione took one last hoarding gaze at Minerva. Then she secured her wand, turned towards the bedroom door, and powered herself to not look back, to not stop.

And to not beg the woman to love her…

She wiped her face with both hands to clear the tears she wanted no one to see as she made her way. She let her feet bring her to the Manor's main entry and purposely made to depart from the enveloping pain…

After the Manor's main door closed behind her, she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as she headed towards the somewhat illuminated main gates of the McGonagall's Manor. She fixed her sight straight and made her gait as firm and as quick as she could without stumbling. And she tried to ignore the outside cold, and discount the long, wide, and attractive Manor ground that her eyes swept over upon stepping out.

A soft flop almost made her jump, but she kept up her stride as she realized that Dolly had appeared beside her. She did not stop and it effectively made her pass the elderly elf. She wanted to ignore Dolly and not say anything, but then a revolting thought occurred to her.

Was the woman making sure that she would leave?

She wanted to be angry… but the overbearing sadness encompassed her being… leaving no room but grief.

Hermione slowed down but continued towards the gate as she quietly said for the elderly elf to hear. "Dolly, no need to escort me, I am really leaving."

"Hermione, no. I do not want you to leave."

Hermione ignored Dolly, even though she knew that the elf was simply reaching out to her.

"Minerva does not want you to leave either."

Hermione flinched but pushed herself to take another step, and another step…

"You must not leave… You are too upset… You will injure yourself if you apparate."

"It's irrelevant when your heart has already disintegrated into a thousand pieces." She mumbled but continued working towards the gates.

"Hermione...?"

She took another step. And another. And another. Trying to stop the fresh tears forming in her eyes… She concentrated harder, as the gates were now within her reach.

"Please, Hermione, stop. If you don't care about hurting yourself, then hear that I do…"

Hermione finally halted her steps. She could not dismiss Dolly's genuine concern.

"And whether you accept it or not, Minerva cares too."

Hermione closed her eyes to control the swirling emotions threatening to break the last of her hold. She understood why Dolly would say such a thing, but she couldn't deal with the allusion.

"Dolly… Thank you for your concern. Thank...thank her for the concern." She blew air over her face and resolved to get away soon. "I'll be okay. I have apparrated in unpleasant and… heart aching conditions… I… I will be okay…"

In about a thousand years… or never….

Hermione withheld saying that last part. But what she added was, "Thank you for tending to me during my stay. I am glad to have met you."

Hermione turned and reached for the gates to open them but she stopped once again at Dolly's next words.

"She does not mean whatever she said to you."

Hermione took a deep breath, turned and sadly responded, "When did Minerva McGonagall ever say things she never truly meant?"

With that, she pushed open the gates and stepped out. But turned towards Dolly once more. And crouched low in order to level her eyes with the elf.

"Dolly… She has a castle to rebuild and a war-torn society to mend. Will you make sure she doesn't kill herself doing so? Force her to eat and rest somehow. I… I…"

She wanted to say that she would dedicate her life to taking care of Minerva but the damn woman simply pushed her away… And of course, Minerva McGonagall needed no one…

"Dolly, just drag her away from work… Bring her here for a respite or something… And please— please don't tell her about this…"

Wise, yellow luminescent eyes stared at her for a few seconds, then nodded quite solemnly. "Thank you for caring about Minerva. I know she—

Hermione held up one hand, unwilling to hear words that would only slice her heart further. "Please Dolly, don't."

Dolly nodded, "If there is anything I can do for you, please call to me. I mean it, Hermione."

"Just… what I have asked… Take care of... of her... for me..."

Hermione stood up and shifted to resume with her departure when soft wobbly fingers touched her elbow and with a snap, she saw the handed rose... The one that Minerva gave to her...

"This is already yours, Hermione."

Hermione swallowed the ball stuck in her throat before she said in a whisper, "Thank you."

She could not take one second more, and stepped away from the elderly elf. She hastily took the necessary distance from the iron gates.

She forced herself not to look back at the Manor but failed, and her eyes caught a flash of magic from the far side of the east wing just half a second before she disapparated.

And then Hermione splinched herself…

.

.

.


End of Chapter 8

Year 1998 – Aftermath Of First One


Arghhh… Did you not want to smack Minerva's beautiful face?