The halls were finally quiet and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Too many people had stood around, crying and sobbing over lost loved ones. It dragged her tenuous good mood into the mud. She wandered aimlessly. No real direction in mind. She found herself down by the lake, a disillusionment spell keeping her from being seen as she slowly made her way back to the quidditch pitch. I was just after supper and the sun was beginning to set behind the stands. The young witch had always loved sunsets. They helped her remember that there was always tomorrow. That everything could be different when the sun came back up. What she hadn't expected was to hear Professor McGonagall arguing with Madam Hooch, and about her no less.
"...alone. She is not your responsibility."
"I never said she was. I just ran into her walking the quidditch pitch by herself and she invited me to join her. We talked a bit and then she suggested we get some lunch. That's all that happened Minerva, I promise." Madame hooch's voice was little more than a whisper, while Minerva's was just quieter than a yell.
"Why would Hermione have come out here to begin with? There are plenty of people that know her better than you up at the castle. She wouldn't have a purpose in coming to see you."
"She didn't come to see me specifically. She mentioned that she wanted to be alone," the flying instructor tried to reason with the transfiguration master.
"Then why did she invite you to join her?"
"Because I wanted to be alone, but at the same time I didn't. Madame Hooch was there without being loud or trying to get me to talk. She just walked with me. When we did speak, she didn't push for information, or anything like it. Harry and Ron have bugged me non-stop about what happened at Malfoy Manor and I didn't want to be forced into talking about it. Finally, I didn't think it was any of your business who I associated with, especially if those people are in your employ and have been your friend for a long time. I'm sorry professor, but I am of age. I can make my own decisions about who I do and don't speak with." Hermione had stepped into the quidditch pitch and was facing the arguing couple. She wasn't angry, but she was disappointed. Of all of the people today who had tried to make her do things or speak of things, or protect her from invisible dangers, she hadn't in a million years thought that Professor McGonagall would be among the Weasley's and Harry, Madame Pomfrey, and several of the St. Mungos healers.
"Hermione, dear, I didn't mean to meddle. I merely wanted to be certain that Madame Hooch-"
"Frankly, Professor, I don't care. It's been and long day, and I am sure it will be an even longer night. I have been questioned and cautioned to death and right now, I just want to sit with someone who doesn't give two figs about what happened to me or what we went through. I want to sit with someone who only cares about the fact that I lived. You have already proven that it isn't you. As stimulating as the conversation was, being interrogated isn't exactly what I had in mind. So please, just let me be, for now." Hermione turned and walked away. She refused to allow either of the instructors to see her cry. It was foolish to be crying over something so simple as an argument anyway. After everything they had been through, really?
The young witch wandered slowly into the Forbidden Forest her hand stuck in her pocket and wrapped around her wand. As much as she wanted to be alone, she didn't fancy being unarmed if she ran into a stray Death-eater or worse. With a single shudder, she took another form, her animagus form, which she had decided would be a good idea to have out on the run and had started learning how to do in her fifth year. A small, black tabby cat stepped from the place where Hermione the witch had once stood. She darted through the forest as quickly as her tiny legs would carry her.
The loud shriek of a hawk directly above her head stopped her, dead in her tracks. She shivered in fear, not wanting to be eaten, and shifted back into her larger, human self. The hawk, floated down out of the tree tops and, in a move reminiscent of McGonagall changing as she leapt from the desk in Hermione's first year, landed as a human. Madame Hooch now stood in front of her. The elder of the two witches said nothing. She simply held out her arm, offering her elbow for Hermione to take.
With a slight smile, the brunette accepted and was lead along an invisible path. They walked for almost an hour, changing directions several times as Madam Hooch seemed to be looking for something specific. Finally they came to a small clearing, in the center of which was a pond, fed by a bubbling stream surrounded by rocks, toadstools, lush green grass, and moonlight filtering in from the tree limbs above them. This place was peaceful and perfection. Hermione was in awe.
"Sometimes when I feel like I can't keep going, or I am so frustrated with everything that I want to cry, I come out here to think. Honestly though, it is a lot easier to find from the sky," the elder witch chuckled.
"It's beautiful," was Hermione's breathy response.
Madam Hooch watched the younger witch's face as she wandered towards the pond and knelt next to it, running her fingers through the water. It seemed to be without second thought that Hermione sat down a stripped off her socks and shoes, rolled up her muggle jeans, and stuck her feet in the water, sighing and smiling as the cool liquid soothed the aches in her legs and the sting from the many scrapes and bruises that dotted ther legs. With a grin, the elder of the two followed suit and sat down, sans sock and shoes, next to her brunette companion.
"I don't think I have ever seen anyone tell off Minerva like that," Madame Hooch bumped Hermione's shoulder with her own. "That was rather impressive."
"Do you think she is made at me? I didn't intend to be short with her. I'm just so tired and everyone keeps trying to tell me where I can and can't go and keeps telling me that I have to be careful when I leave the castle. The healers keep telling me that I have to talk about what happened to me at the Manor. I don't want to talk. I just want to sit, and stare into space and remember that we won. At least for a little while," in an unfamiliar act of familiarity, Hermione layed her head over on Madame Hooch's shoulder and sighed. "Thank you, Madame Hooch."
"Rolanda, and whatever for?" The silver haired woman out an arm around the brunette's shoulders.
"For being different than everyone else. For being here without being pushy."
"You don't have to thank me for that. While I agree that you should talk to someone, I also know how much being pressured about it can make you angry. I remember that much from the first war." She rolled up her sleeve and showed Hermione a similar scar to the brunette's own. "Bellatrix Lestrange caught me on a recon mission for Dumbledore. The Order showed up the next day and got me out, but I refused to speak to anyone for months. I know what you are going through, if it helps at all?"
The young woman's gaze was anchored to the scar in front of her. Mud Lover. With a deep, steadying breath the young woman rolled up her own sleeve and revealed the similar scar on her own arm. Mudblood. "She caught us sometime around Easter."
Rolanda placed a hand on her arm, covering the scar with her warm fingers. "Let's just sit, and enjoy the water. We can head up to the castle later. I put wards on this place years ago, so we are safe here."
"I don't think I want to head back up to the castle tonight. I am not used to sleeping inside anymore."
"Then we can stay here." With a wave of her wand, the older witch conjured two tents, complete with sleeping bags and pillows. "You don't have to do anything that you don't want to do, Hermione. When you feel upset, or like the world is closing in on you, come find me. I will help you."
"Thank you."