Chapter 39: Love Makes Us Wiser? Or Not?


May 7, 2005

Continuation


When Harry and Ron stayed unresponsive, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and her head slightly tilted in silent reiteration of her question. For several moments, the vagueness stretched, until Ron was first to react.

"Bloody hell," he swore under his breath. "Supposedly brilliant witches…" he muttered, harshly shaking his head as he reached for a bottle of beer on the counter-table and then brushed past Hermione on his way to the living room.

Before she could think of a response at Ron's obvious stabbing, Harry seriously said to her, "Let's talk." He then gestured and started moving in Ron's direction.

Seemingly left with no other option, she followed the boys, chewing her lip and internally priming herself for the impending conversation— a brewing row, given the apparent temper being displayed by Harry and Ron.

"Why am I leading Minerva to her death?" Hermione voiced the question once again, forgoing pussyfooting as she sat down beside Harry on the settee located across Ron who opted for the armchair.

Harry waved a hand, sort of laying aside discussing the not so simple answer to that question— one that concerned Minerva McGonagall. Instead, he said, "Let us begin with the dark mark and the attack."

When Hermione was about to protest, Harry's determined olive eyes bored into her chocolate eyes until she gave acquiescence. "All right…"

Harry launched into narration.

"First, nothing followed what happened in Azkaban. No more dark mark projection, and no other explosion. The apprehended wizards have recovered and underwent interrogation... Separately, they told us the same story. The overwhelming coldness, an extreme gripping on their upper left chest, and then nothing until they woke up in Aurors' custody, completely unaware of what had happened…"

"Did the Ministry check if their memories have been altered?" she asked.

"Yes, and no indication of memory corruption. It ultimately collaborated with what they've testified." Harry confirmed, and gave Hermione added particulars that had been gathered during the last couple of days while she was indisposed.

The two wizards underwent physical examination, which revealed identical circular marks on their upper left chests, exactly where they described the gripping pain having started. Again, both had no idea of it until shown to them, suggesting something not dissimilar to magical concealment until recently.

Harry also revealed that when further scrutinised, underneath the first layer of skin was revealed a long healed puncture. The specialist from St. Mungos-Janus Thickey Ward described it as something comparable to what they saw with wounds caused by close-encounter curses; whenever the cursing wand actually touched the body part, it would leave that kind of trace.

"They think it has the pattern of an imperio." Ron inserted the deduction from the investigation.

Despite his no longer working at the ministry, Hermione wasn't surprised that Ron knew the details. He and Harry had the discussion undoubtedly… Frankly, she approved of Ron being in the picture. Besides, she was sure that there was an unofficial pass for the Golden Trio, at least when it came to anything the slightest bit connected with the last war.

Afterwards, Harry informed Hermione that Kingsley wanted The Department of Mysteries to dissect any magical fragments to better understand what happened. The involved wizards fully cooperated as they did want to prove their innocence, afraid they'd be condemned by the events. They allowed for the wounds to be reopened to scrape for samples.

"The experts at the Department of Mysteries corroborated that it had the imperio curse pattern," Harry supplicated Ron's information before venturing towards the bizarre part, "Inside the punctures when examined were traces of silicon, fast acting sedatives and essence of nightshade plants."

"A contained imperio!" Hermione gasped in hyper-speed digestion from Harry's inventory of findings. "What the— A dark magic preserved in a disintegrating phial!"

Harry was left shaking his head at Hermione's truly brilliant mind. "How could you understand that immediately when it took us— Ministry officers several perusals of the report before wrapping our heads around such an outcome?"

Hermione heard Ron grunt, and before allowing either of the boys to confer more of their opinions regarding her academic faculties, she returned to the pressing topic and rattled out the rest of her supposition of the recent dark mark appearance and Azkaban's explosion.

"So the imperio curse somehow 'activated'...? How? What was the catalyst? By a physical trigger? By a timeline? And the spells the unsuspecting wizards have casted were surely not theirs? Perhaps also from time-delayed dark magic…? The first one, I caught the trajectory towards your area and I tried to intercept it. These were all part of an attack that was pre-planned, probably before the Hogwarts battle, right? But Tom Riddle is still dead, right? The events are just a sordid belated claim of terror?"

"Again, how can you be unconscious for over 40 hours, undergo intensive healing, and still manage to arrive at the correct and almost complete account?" Harry asked in curious incredulity. "Nothing was published to keep the public from erupting into hysteria, you know? So it can't be from news brought by your visitors today."

"Honestly, I'm merely supposing… considering the incidents that happened," Hermione shrugged. "But I still don't know how that time-delayed dark magic was created. Especially the timetabled— contained form of the imperio. How was that possible? That must be one hell of a powerful darkness."

"I'll say," Harry reluctantly agreed. "Pick a guess at who the designer was?"

Hermione followed Harry's eyes darting to her arms, so it wasn't hard to guess…

Bellatrix.

"I see… " Hermione mumbled, thinking how truly powerful the evil witch had been… "She can really terrorise us even when rotting in death."

The revelation was forcing Hermione to circle back to Minerva's story regarding Bellatrix's natural talent as a student… If Hermione was candid about what she thought of it, the concept of a contained curse— a time-delayed spell— was revolutionary, notwithstanding the evilness of the originator…. What a waste, Hermione concluded of the ill-used gift.

"How did you find out it was Bellatrix?" Hermione asked.

"Malfoy helped."

"Draco?" That surprised Hermione. "He knew about it?"

"Not exactly… After hearing about the dark mark, he came to the ministry. He came forward not having the precise details of what's going on, but he had the idea to seek the information/explanations from his father. I guess he did want to prove he's all for the peace and order of our society."

Harry chronicled that at Draco's hardened behest, citing redemption for their family, especially now that Draco had two young children, Lucius had submitted memories for the Aurors to sift through… And it took awhile, as to be fair, the imprisoned older Malfoy had no idea of which specific evil deeds related to the recent events that Bellatrix had organised. He mentioned that it was nothing new for Bellatrix to experiment with dark magic... Besides, the deranged witch was quite unforthcoming of these things, always claiming she was simply proving to everyone how she was the best of Voldemort's followers…

Furthermore, Lucius believed that Bellatrix's experiments were simply gibberish… The witch once bragged of a time-delayed bombarda set for several days, which bungled, driving Bellatrix into a rage… He did not think that Bellatrix even knew she had actually been successful at a long-time spell... And the wizards involved with the time-delayed imperio were unfortunate victims of Bellatrix…

"And the eleven year-old student?" Hermione was cognisant that from the beginning of their discussion, Harry had refrained from mentioning anything related to Hogwarts— anything connected to Minerva McGonagall.

"He's the son of the second wizard involved, the one apprehended at Azkaban." Harry informed her.

"One of those who tried to be under the radar during the war? Neither joining nor fighting Voldemort?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. When we interviewed Lucius again about the involved wizards, he really had no idea of any significant attachment. His best guess was that both had experienced short questioning back then from the death-eaters," Harry said, closely studying her face as he added, "However, he imparted that the second wizard is married to a witch he distinctly remembered that Bellatrix wanted to kill or kidnap, but failed to for whatever reason…"

"The witch's name is Nicola MacQuoid-Davies. According to Bill, she was a Seventh Year Ravenclaw when he came to Hogwarts as a first year. He cited that the reason he remembers her is because he had a fleeting crush on her," Ron recited gravely. And almost derisively he told Hermione, "Nicola is actually Scottish, very tall, and with green eyes…only she's got red hair..."

Before Hermione could react to Ron's inference— of the witch's similar attributes with Minerva's, Harry commanded her attention when he tried asking gently but unsuccessfully refraining the ferocity in his tone, "Now, Hermione, why the hell did you not protect yourself at Azkaban?"

The insinuation was too much. It burned through her, drawing up her defences.

"The obvious answer, Harry, is that I did not see the second triggering dark magic," she responded insolently. She found that she could not stifle the ignited ire, and hurled back, "What are you precisely suggesting? That I permitted myself to be injured by Bellatrix's evil work from bloody hell?"

And then yes, bloody hell, leave it to Ron's crassness to heave them for the worse.

"We don't know, Hermione." Ron stood up, pointing a finger at her, and calling out the fury in the open, "Were you so stupidly distracted and desperate coming from your fucking and slapping session with Minerva that you forgot to shield yourself?"

Hermione could not believe the imprudent question.

"Are you hearing yourself, Ron?" Hermione was aghast, rapidly comprehending that Harry saw her slap Minerva and told Ron of it… and both had injudiciously connected it with what happened to her at Azkaban.

Hermione's chest tightened at the offence. She stood up to abandon their wretched discussion.

Harry followed suit, reaching for her, "Hermione—"

But she would not allow him, jerking away and putting forth rejection. "This assaulting dialogue is over." Fearing that she might dive into matching Ron's vulgarity that could truly fracture their relationship, she opted for preservation. "Please, leave," she told them tightly. Sullenly realising that for the very first time she was throwing out her best friends, her chest's constriction worsened.

Harry tried again, "Wait, Hermione—"

But she refused to endure and started walking out of the living room. Except, Harry's next pronouncement stopped her from taking another step and had her sharply pivoting.

"You weren't breathing, Hermione!" Harry roared. "You had no pulse. I thought you were dead!"

More than the vehemence in his voice, Hermione took in the sight of Harry's tormented countenance. And it somewhat allayed the brewing rage inside her.

"I fucking thought we'd lost our best friend." Harry blubbered with anger, sorrow, and terror.

"Harry, I'm—" she started to counter but trailed off. Her eyes quickly burned from the gathering tears at suddenly understanding that Harry was not seeing her as she was presently, that right at this moment he had mentally transported himself to the incident at Azkaban, seeing in his mind as he had described her— dead.

And without warning, Harry sat back down on the sofa with a helpless thud, visibly controlling his emotions as he scrubbed his face, chasing away the haunting memory in his head, gesticulating aimlessly for a moment, and then clenching and unclenching his fists…

Yet, he was far from done.

"Once you confessed to me, Hermione, how you felt a huge part of you had been ripped away when you thought Voldemort had killed me…" He pounded a hand on his thigh before he looked up directly into her brown eyes and vulnerably told her, "Hermione, that's how it was!"

She knew what Harry was referring to— when she saw Hagrid carrying Harry's body during the battle at Hogwarts from the forbidden forrest, the grief hit her indubitably. The pain was unspeakable, and she knew that everything inside her was shattering in those seconds thinking that Harry had died…

"That's how I felt when I finally unburied you from the wreckage… and found you WITHOUT a heartbeat" Harry stated, almost violently.

Hermione's tears finally overflowed and began running down her face. Harry's parallelism had managed to drop her quite into the same emotional ordeal he was battling, forcing her into absolute cognisance, twistingly justifying the infecting remarks thrown at her earlier… and delivering all three of them to the same degree of wretchedness.

Tears were earnestly falling now and blurring her vision of Harry, and she was searching for an anchor for the emotional assault... But it continued, as even though Harry's voice had lost its volume, his emotions were still pouring in abundance, and Hermione perfectly caught the rest of his narration…

"I knew it was your protego that saved us from the initial explosion. And then the second explosion happened, cancelling your protego…I instinctively knew that you got hit even when I couldn't see anything with the smoke, the dust, the fire, and the collapsing wreckage around us. I knew, Hermione, I just knew… and I was frightened that I could not get to you fast enough…"

The articulation of fear ultimately brought down Hermione literally to her knees in front of Harry. She clutched and placed Harry's left hand on her right cheek, and simultaneously held out her other hand to Ron, who took it and joined her on the floor before he started rubbing her back…

The best friends momentarily resided in such an exclusive presence of each other… obtaining some level of assurance from the physical contact… One part in testament to the essence of their friendship that transcended any grading by the public of their Golden Trio label.

"Harry…" she choked, "You got to me… You got to me." The statement was an affirmation to herself, to Harry, and to Ron— an affirmation that she was alive.

"I had to will all my air into your lungs, Hermione, for— I don't know how long… before you finally resumed breathing...before I could feel your heart beating again…"

"You got to me Harry." She chanted again, ascribing more power to such truth. "You got to me…" She slightly turned her head and kissed his palm, before she directed his hand and placed it to her heart, "You got this beating, Harry."

"Barely, Hermione…" Harry gripped Hermione's shoulder, "I was truly frightened that any second your heart would stop beating again before we could transport you to St. Mungos."

"But it didn't, right?" Hermione induced, laying her head on Harry's knees. And she hurriedly recalled and recited for their benefit, "Hypatia said that I barely had a pulse when I arrived at St. Mungos, but it was still a pulse, Harry… You got it beating… You brought me from Azkaban to St. Mungos before it was too late."

But with that last sentence she had spoken, all at once, Harry quivered and Ron's rubbing of her back halted… Hermione felt the unmistakable weighty shift in the already high-tension atmosphere surrounding them. Her insides pulled apart and crashed even worse at the nudging supposition.

"Harry?" She lifted her head from his knees and apprehensively reiterated to confirm, "You brought me from Azkaban to St. Mungos before it was too late…"

"No," Harry slowly answered. "I didn't, Hermione. Minerva did… And she almost killed herself doing it."

She heard Harry, but she could not really fathom… In the first place, Minerva should have been at Hogwarts and nowhere at Azkaban. After Harry informed them of the dark mark at the prison island, she left the older witch in that wretched Hogwarts hallway after their wretched conversation that ended with her slapping the woman…

"Hermione," Harry took hold of her upper arms, prompting her to get off the floor and settle on the sofa beside him, while Ron seemed nonchalant about staying on the floor, and visibly focused on what was being revealed.

For a while, none of them could speak. All three of them gathered inside themselves any possible strength to go on with the difficult discussion… Then Harry expelled a lengthy breath before continuing telling her that as soon as he got her to breathe again, he barked that they should get her to St. Mungos.

"We couldn't get you out," he disclosed.

Harry described the critical scenario at Azkaban after the explosion. That it destroyed the identity verification system at the exit section. The prison's emergency exit wards were also reconfiguring, as triggered by the blast. It led Auror Via and other Aurors to commence overriding the anti-apparation wards, trying to do it faster than the rebooting of the prison's emergency exit.

"Praying that they take down the anti-apparation wards or the configuration finishes soon, I was holding your wrist so I could feel your pulse… It was so weak, Hermione, I knew the danger that any second we could lose you if we didn't get you to St. Mungos... And then I don't know how or at what point Minerva arrived at Azkaban. I just remember seeing her stricken face as she crouched beside me. It was so vivid to me when she said, 'Let me have her, Harry.' Then it happened so fast; she took you in her arms, cast some kind of bubble on you, stepped away, and before I understood— she disapparated."

Hermione's heart froze in fright. Her every brilliant mind instantly understanding the facts— Minerva's magic pushed through the anti-apparation wards.

When an area disallowed magical entry/exit, any magical person who would attempt to apparate/disapparate would encounter the passage's invisible veil— essentially the veil rejected the witch/wizard's magic to gain admittance. And a slight burn slithering straight to one's magical core would serve as a salient warning…

The magical person's natural instinct would have them retreating in no time from pushing for passage… And it was common knowledge that lunging through the passage's invisible veil for apparation/disapparation was close to committing self-destruction.

And that is what Minerva did— to bring Hermione out of Azkaban to St. Mungos.

Harry continued to narrate that he shook himself to sensibility hearing the cursing from Auror Via at Minerva's grave action. He tried to console himself that Minerva probably had unknown power that influenced her decision.

"Then I sent a patronus to Hypatia of your grave condition, and to check on Minerva's as well… My next patronus was to Ron, telling him of the explosion, of how he must rush to St. Mungos to be with you because I still could not get out of Azkaban."

Ron picked up the story after that. He related to Hermione how he arrived at the whirling scenario of spell mending casting being done by Hypatia and two other healers, trying to attend to her failing organs. That he was backed out of the room to not get in the way, perhaps because he began panicking… That it was three quarters of an hour later when healers finally exited and told him that Hypatia instructed to allow him re-entry.

"Not wanting to disturb you, I walked in as silently as I could," Ron recounted, now transferring himself beside Hermione on the sofa. "I was surprised to find Minerva inside, realising that she had been there the entire time. She was standing beside your bed and quietly in discussion with Hypatia… But I had no idea that she was the one who brought you in and how she broke through anti-apparation wards, as Harry's message did not include that. I cleared my throat to get their attention. Just after Minerva turned, her knees gave out and Hypatia almost did not catch her."

"I arrived at St. Mungos only after that point," Harry interjected. "Hypatia informed me that Minerva's magical core was almost depleted. It seemed that Minerva had spent most of her powers counteracting being burned alive as she broke through the anti-apparation passage veil… Hypatia said that still, the pain was surely excruciating. And so, it was unbelievable that Minerva did not collapse sooner…or altogether die from what she did."

Hermione's chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. After finally learning what had happened to her, and to Minerva...she genuinely did not know where to start. Her emotions were spinning wildly and the tremors running inside her were still picking up speed as she contemplated further what had been bared to her.

"Hermione…" Harry spoke gently, massaging the back of his neck, readying himself to say something else, but ending up exhaling wearily.

"Just tell me, Harry," she quietly begged. His despondent olive eyes were clearly cautioning her to brace for more disheartening news.

Instead of speaking, Harry stood and went to the coat closet. Hermione guessed and she was correct that he was retrieving something because when he returned, he handed her some kind of cardboard. Warily and confusedly, she took out its content: a folded one page newspaper.

Her whole face contorted in uncertainty as soon as she outspread the paper and saw the entire thing. Her eyes hurriedly scanned the accompanying text, going over it a second time before her frightened eyes darted to Harry's and to Ron's and back to Harry's…

"This hasn't been issued, right?" she asked, eyes widening in panic.

The 'this' Hermione was referring to was a front page from the Daily Prophet. The news title said—

Emergency at St. Mungos: Involving Two Heroines

At approximately eleven in the evening of May 7, 2005, an unconscious and apparently injured Magical Law Enforcement Deputy—Hermione Granger was directly apparated to St. Mungos emergency admittance, by none other than Hogwarts Headmistress—Minerva McGonagall.

As of writing this, we could only speculate that said incident was probably related to the reappearance of the dark mark yesterday. The signal, as we all know, had been used by the dark wizard Voldemort. We also know that he had been destroyed in a duel by Harry Potter, during the Hogwarts Battle, 7 years ago.

The photo taken is the captured scene just moments after the appearance at St. Mungos of our two heroines. More details to follow once we've gathered reports from the Ministry.

"No. They didn't publish that," Harry supplied and Hermione breathed in relief.

She took another look at the moving photo. She could clearly see Minerva's magic cracking, almost tangible as it outlined them… Minerva was carrying her in front of her body, with one arm under her legs, and the other supporting her back— bridal style, except Hermione was no bride but completely pale, unconscious, and in an obvious magical protective bubble.

Hermione waved the article in the air, "But where…? How? Did you ask the Daily Prophet to hold this?" she asked.

"No… I didn't even know about it until yesterday, just hours ahead, just before you woke up. That copy was given by Audrey to Ron," Harry replied.

Hermione turned to Ron, whose face had returned to a combination of concern and angry expressions.

"Audrey caught me at the Burrow yesterday before I left to return to St. Mungos," Ron started and then motioned towards the article in Hermione's hand. "She handed that to me. Said that Gaston, he's the photojournalist, well, he was pissed off that the Daily Prophet's Editor-in-Chief took off this article, which was supposed to be the major teaser the day after the attack— that was the day before you woke up. When Audrey checked with their boss, it turned out that the newspaper owner made the call…"

Thereafter, Ron need not say who cast enough influence over the owners of the Daily Prophet to pull it off the news…

Minerva… No one else…

The trio could only make wild suppositions as to how the bloody woman even knew about it. Ron's opinion was that like most people, the current newspaper owner must be indebted to Minerva so that any forthcoming article involving her that was less to do with Hogwarts and the Wizarding government, something proximate to privacy of the woman, was commonly ran by Minerva in advance… Harry's view, as expected, was more trusting— deciding that it was simply a courtesy arrangement between Minerva and the owners.

However after Harry had imparted that belief, he entirely pulled the rug out from underneath Hermione when the boy-who-lived best friend of hers gave her some kind of an ultimatum.

"I love you, Hermione, you are my best friend…" Harry professed, slowly breathing as finally he took on this grave and much timely discourse. "I love Minerva. She has become this really important family figure in my life. She and I have elected to foster the connection we found after the war. A strong unexplainable connection. Much like yours with her. Except, ours is obviously purely familial…and not romantic."

Of course Hermione knew what Harry meant. After the war, it was obvious that Harry and Minerva had closed the Professor-Student association and decidedly treated each other as family. Yes, much like her and Minerva— but not the same. All consuming romantic love was not the same as all-sincere familial love…

Furthermore, Hermione was aware that after she got pregnant and admitted the truth to Harry, her best friend was thrown into the despairing conflict of both being her best friend and Minerva's sort of younger brother—suffering the consequences of being in the middle.

"I see you both truly loving each other— in your own separate way…" Harry muttered, peering into her chocolate eyes. "But Hermione, when you were injured—"

"Harry," She wanted to protest, but he would not permit her.

"No, I want you to hear me out…" Harry would not back off. He took hold of both her hands in an arresting manner, resolute to say his piece.

Hermione's chest thundered at the incoming pronouncements, but Harry's eyes pleaded so intensely, reaching her heart…that she could only nod for him to resume.

"I know you'd argue most ardently that your injury at Azkaban had nothing to do with your interaction with Minerva that night." Harry laid upon what Hermione believed before he began dismantling it. "But Ron and I have been witnessing your brilliance since we were eleven. AND your self-agitation when it comes to Minerva for the last few years… So, Ron and I are convinced that you were exhaustively affected by your togetherness prior to the Azkaban incident, that the brilliant Hermione was not whole when she landed on the prison island, that half of her consciousness was actually at Hogwarts— My love, we know what we are talking about… even if you are not aware of it."

Harry would not stop. He spoke of how he believed that Minerva was turning the same— unknowingly self destructive for Hermione… A huge contrast to the witch whom they all knew had endured residing almost a year at Hogwarts with evil Death-eaters without drawing her wand against them in order to keep her position at the school, and as defenceless as she was, she knew it was wise that she remained in the castle for staff and students… And now, Minerva was failing in her judgement because of her.

"Hermione, do you believe that I would do everything for you?"

She knew exactly where Harry was leading. To the heart of the matter that they would do everything to protect each other— that included him protecting her from Minerva… him protecting Minerva from her… Notwithstanding the heartache for all of them.

"Yes, I do, Harry."

"I am most grateful that Minerva transported you to St. Mungos. Of course I am… But she could have ended both of you by breaking through the anti-apparation veil… Bloody Merlin, I could have lost both of you that night…" Harry lamented and it brought Hermione another wave of sorrowful comprehension…

'Supposedly brilliant witches…'

'Were you so stupidly distracted and desperate coming from your fucking and slapping session with Minerva that you forgot to shield yourself?'

Those statements which Ron had thrown at her earlier…now they couldn't be clearer to Hermione where Ron was coming from after hearing Harry's dissection of the events and of her general situation with Minerva… And Harry was plainly beating that matter in as he pushed deeper, not permitting her anymore to justify with any illusionment.

"Do you remember just after the war when I was wallowing over Molly's less than enthusiastic reaction after I asked for their blessing to marry Ginny? When I locked myself up at Grimmauld, disregarding safety, having tantrums until Minerva barged her way in and sat me down?"

How could Hermione forget? When Minerva returned home at the Manor, (Hermione not knowing at that time that she came directly from dousing Harry's drama), Minerva broke her heart into a thousand pieces… It was the night that Hermione splinched, running away from McGonagall Manor.

"Do you know what she told me about my follies?" With Harry's daring tone, she knew that they were both aware of what that night had entailed. "Minerva said to me something that opened my eyes; she said that Love makes us wiser, and never otherwise…"

Those were Dumbledore's words…

Ironically, Minerva told Hermione of that one lesson imparted to her by Albus Dumbledore once upon a time... More ironic was the fact that the conversation Hermione had with Minerva was again the same time she was at McGonagall Manor, hours before she and Minerva made love for the first time… And more hours before Minerva convinced herself that it was wiser to not be with her and hastily summarised what they had as a 'mere fuck'…

And that exchange was miserably seven years old…

"You both are brilliant witches and you know it. In here, Hermione." Harry gently tapped her chest to indicate her heart, "Whatever you two have, I know it is all true here… But up here…" he lifted his hand to Hermione's temple— "You and Minerva have abandoned what must be."

Hermione wanted to contest that she was not responsible for Minerva's actions. How was she supposed to know that the woman would foolishly spend all her power to almost depletion by breaking through anti-apparation barriers? The Minerva she knew was all subtlety… But did she really not know...? Roles reversed, wouldn't she do the same thing for Minerva? Do everything for the woman? Even die for her?

Bloody fuck.

Hermione sadly arrived at the junction that Harry kept pushing her to… To what had given more profound meaning to Ron's earlier unintentional insult…

She could not help but take another look at the photo of her and Minerva… This image was far from subtle. It was tantamount to announcing to the world that they were not merely previous student-professor to each other… Minerva's face screamed of everything they had been hiding from the public. Something she came to understanding and accepting more and more each year that exposure of it would only deliver them into a losing end, as both of them were not ready for it.

"And you know what is more maddening—" Harry reached out pointing at that one page of unpublished news she was perusing, "This… The decision to make this disappear from the public is undeniable proof how Minerva is still not choosing to be in the open to love you. Still will not afford to be with you. Just as she has told you before. Just as you, Hermione, have known. Just as you have believed. Just as when you got pregnant with Rose, you were more convinced and had us convinced that you also could not afford for the truth to be out."

There. The notion of indisposition she was just pondering…Harry just pounded the truth further in her face… And as before, she had nothing to fight it with.

Hermione thought of how life could truly be unforgiving in its hammering of human endurance when traversing through these times…creating enough vacuum to question everything you feel…everything you know… everything you were once certain of… She was certain that everything would eventually fall into its proper place when it was the right time… But this was proving to be nothing but a well-concealed illusion of this epical loving of Minerva McGonagall…

Hope as she had known was a double edge mighty sword. She had hoped, and hoped… especially when she and Minerva had created a daughter… But reality was only cutting her and Minerva endlessly…

"There is one last thing, Hermione..." Harry sighed and slowly brought up the topic of her daughter, "About Rose…"

It was as if Harry had read the latest thoughts in her head… Truly, Hermione could not take more. But it wouldn't matter; she understood that Harry would end tonight with every ammo fired.

"You are right, Minerva is absolutely ignorant that you and her have conceived Rose into existence… Something I had hoped to turn the tide of this whole wretched thing between you and Minerva… I had hoped that when the time came, she would know... But she didn't."

"What DID you do, Harry?"

"Nothing, Hermione! The bloody unbreakable vow would not let me do anything… But I tell you love, bearing witness to it was too much. TOO MUCH! And for the first time Hermione, I had hoped that this love between you and Minerva had never started, or has finally ended."

"What…Do...You…Mean?" Hermione panted. Everything in her was trembling.

"Yesterday at St. Mungos, while you were still unconscious, Minerva and Rose met... I prayed that love would bring deliverance as I watched them interact with each other for the first time… I was going mad, mentally begging Merlin that love would make her see the truth when she saw Rose in the flesh... But Hermione, Minerva was bloody none-the-wiser…"

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End of Chapter 39

Year 2005 – Love Makes Us Wiser? Or Not?

Posted 2022.0626

AN:

This chapter ends this 4th Seventh of May. We will move to 5th Seventh of May. By now, you'd have guessed that this story is outlined with seven episodes of Seventh of May.

AND— as we are moving through the story, the succeeding chapters will be written in Minerva's POV… Truthfully, the POV shift will throw away several rough chapters I have, but heck, as I ran the intended ending of this story in my mind, I'd say let us flip the lens and feel for Minerva this time! Let's see how it goes…

Again, my great thanks if you are still reading story...

So, could you imagine Harry's feelings when he was performing cpr to Hermione? How about when he was sitting in that room with Hermione still unconscious while Minerva unknowingly meets her own daughter? Darn.