A/N: A dozen appologies for this taking so long. Things have been... bizarre with moving and Christmas and blah blah story.
Chapter Three
Dinner
-/-
When Hermione returned to her room after classes were over and the library had closed, there was a note waiting for her on her desk, the first place she would notice. Before she picked it up, she hesitated, fingers lingering for a moment. She wasn't sure who it was from, and did not know how it got in here, unless someone had snuck in. If someone had broken into her room, should she be worried?
After a few moments, she finally picked it up and unfolded it to be met by familiar, swirling script. It was from Professor McGonagall, of course, and was quite simply written.
'Dinner is at 7:00pm in my chambers. The password is Bumblebee. Thank you for accepting.' It was simply signed, M. M.
With a sigh, Hermione folded the short letter back in half and replaced it on her desk the way she found it before looking at the clock. Six-thirty. Bugger.
She quickly changed from her school uniform into a pair of black pants and a black turtleneck skivvy. Brushing her hair into a bun and pocketing the few things, she left her chambers by six-fifty-five at a quick stride.
-/-
Hermione arrived at the gargoyle that stood before the Headmistress's office with barely a second to spare. She knew that Mcgonagall didn't put up with tardiness and despite the more casual setting didn't want to give any reason to be scolded. Shooting up the winding stairs, she stopped to lean against the door and catch her breath.
Minerva knew that her guest had arrived and didn't need magic to detect her outside the door- her heavy breathing was perfectly audible to her animagus ears. When the girl finally entered (after knocking, of course) her face lightened with delight at what her teacher had done.
The round office was lined with roof-reaching bookshelves and colored with the various house colours and the portraits of various ex-head masters watched her with interest and kindness, but what really caught her attention was that where the headmistress's desk should be a long, luxurious table stood. A decorative silk cloth was draped over it and shone with magic, colors changing in the light like mother of pearl. Two high-backed chairs with upholstery of the same color sat either side of the table that was laden with dishes, just like in the great hall. The room was even lit with floating candles and the fireplace remained unlit. All of the colors were brightened even further by the flickering lighting. It was extremely beautiful.
After she had finished ogling the room, Hermione turned her attention to Minerva who was standing at one end of the table. Like the room, she seemed to have transformed. Her usual green, black colors and tartan patterns were gone, as were the heavy robes that she wore around the castle. Her dress was long and flowed to her feet, and the blue waves seemed to move like the ocean in the candle light. Her arms and most of her neck were still covered (which seemed to be one thing that hadn't changed), but with her curves and angles accentuated better, the effect on Hermione was equal to if she was wearing a short halter-neck.
"Wow," Hermione couldn't stop herself from gushing, "you look…" She paused, realizing she was gawking and tried to hide her blush as she attempted to correct herself. "Your office looks amazing like this."
With her lips curled slightly, Minerva thanked her and pulled out a chair for Hermione to sit in before moving to her own.
It wasn't difficult for the perceptive woman to know that the younger girl was watching her, but she ignored it until she was sitting comfortably. A few more moments and she looked directly at Hermione and raised an eyebrow, "You understand that by asking you to have dinner, the point was that you would eat."
Hermione's attention was brought back to where she was. For a few moments she was too enthralled by the difference in her mentor. She couldn't help but wonder why it was that for all these years she had never entertained the thought of Minerva wearing anything else; of looking less like a professor and just a woman. Even though they had always been close as teacher and student and together had faced many different situations, there were very few moments that Hermione would have thought as Minerva as a friend (or that the woman could consider her student one). This year so many things had changed, and the Gryffindor's views of people were changing with it.
After a few more moments of the professor's watching, Hermione served herself a small amount of salad and a slice of turkey. She wasn't hungry, and hadn't had much of an appetite for a while. Seemingly satisfied, the older woman chose her own meal and began to eat, occasionally lifting her eyes to make sure that Hermione was as well.
There was a bit of small talk, about quidditch (which Hermione wasn't that interested in), classes, but when Mcgonagall asked what she planned for the holiday break, Hermione looked down at her plate where the remaining salad was chased by her fork in circles. There was a pregnant pause before she replied, "I don't know." It took her a few moments to properly gather her thoughts, but she finally explained when she felt that the emerald eyes weren't going to leave hers. "I obliviated my parents' memories and sent them to Australia during the war and I don't know where they are now. If there was more time I'd find them again, but I don't think I could do that in just two weeks." She wiped her eyes which were starting to cloud again but persisted, swearing she wouldn't embarrass herself by crying in front of her favorite teacher again. "Normally I'd go to the Burrow, but I can't do that now. I don't want to see Ron, not yet." She sighed, "So I guess I'll be staying here by myself."
Minerva nodded, "I know it's not the same as being with your friends and family, but you're more than welcome to visit me anytime. It'd be nice to have company for Christmas for once." At the offer and comment, Hermione had to wonder about her mentor's life outside of Hogwarts.
"Don't you spend Christmas with your family?" she enquired a tad shyly- the woman was known for being a private person.
The Scottish lilt wasn't laced with any emotion, "I don't have any family to speak of. My Christmases are spent here like every other night." She didn't mention that until he died Dumbledore was her usual companion on holidays. It hurt to talk about it still and she missed him very much. She'd even felt lonely at times like Christmas.
Hermione said a simple, "Oh," and nothing else. They ate a gelatin desert in quiet before Hermione suggested she leave to study before bed. Minerva agreed, and reminded her to return the next night at the same time.
It was surprising for the girl to realize when she returned to her dorm that she had spent two and a half hours in the company of the other woman. She didn't know whether to look forward to or dread the next dinner, but barely noticed that the tabby failed to appear at her window that night.
