The Kiss
Hermione couldn't see where she was going, her eyes flooded, but she knew the castle. Her feet kept pounding against the ground, turning around corners and speeding past portraits that yelled. She needed air. She was going to need a lot more than air, but for the moment it was all she could do. Her lungs burned and her breaths were short and ragged. She was getting dizzy but she couldn't stop. The staircases moved beneath her and Hermione grabbed the rail for support, but she couldn't slow down.
Stupid, stupid, stupid mudblood filth. Who could ever love you? Who were you kidding?
Shut up! Shut up!
You're a weak little idiot.
I know, shut up!
There was laughter in her mind that sounded like nails on a board. She pressed her knuckles to her temples to try and push it out but it would not stop.
She burst through the Astrology Tower door and flew up the final staircase. Her feet didn't stop until she collided with the parapet hard enough to blow all the air from her lungs. There was nowhere left to go and she looked up at the indigo sky. From here she could see all of the stars, could probably name most of the constellations but she didn't care about that. She focused on the fat silver moon and pulled in as much of the air into her lungs as possible. When she exhaled it was a heart-broken cry.
Putting both hands on the edge of the wall she managed to stem the tears. She made herself focus on the feel of the stone under her fingers, cold and rough. It was chilly and her cardigan offered little protection, so she shivered and failed to stop another mournful wail. She swore and bit her lip, trying to get control of herself.
I never should have listened to Ginny and Luna.
She swore again. A pulse of hatred made her stomach turn.
Focus.
What was she going to do? She couldn't go back to the office. Maybe she could walk to Hogsmeade and apparate to Harry's, but what would she tell the boys? Certainly not the truth. She sighed and dropped her gaze from the crater-pocked moon to Hagrid's hut. She could remember when Minerva had stood up for the half-giant and was shot through the heart by five stunner spells. See had seen it and the memory brought an ache of fear.
Hermione tried to look over the edge of the parapet to see where Dumbledore's body had landed, but she couldn't see. Her hands were numb as she started to pull herself up, wobbling as she climbed onto the wall. She swayed and her heart jumped into her throat. She placed a hand on the pinnacle beside her for support. She was very high up and looking down made her feel ill. Her breathing had returned to normal and her thoughts had settled to a low, hazy hum. She closed her eyes and breathed.
When she opened her eyes she could see clearly, the night vast. The full moon gave the endless forest colour and lit up the inky black lake. Her heart settled into a comfortable rhythm.
"What are you doing!?"
Hermione slipped as she turned too fast, but she held onto the pinnacle and didn't fall. Her pulse raced as she started to climb down.
"I-I wasn't going to…"
Her words tripped over themselves and her head spun, but Minerva had closed the distance between them in no time, pulling Hermione into her arms.
"Don't scare me like that," the older woman said, pulling off her cloak to settle it onto Hermione's shoulders.
Hermione wasn't looking at her and her arms were still by her side. McGonagall tilted her head up.
"Do you understand? Never again."
Hermione didn't have a chance to explain as her friend's familiar hands cupped her face and lips pressed against hers. She froze. She must've fallen from the wall and died. But the warmth was real, the lips were soft, her body was melting. The other woman pulled away quickly, looking equally shocked.
They stared at each other a moment and Hermione's mouth fell open. She had kissed her. McGonagall had kissed her. Minerva looked away, ashamed. Hermione felt her pulling away again but didn't want to lose contact, so she leaned forward, snaking her arms around her thin frame. After a second the woman returned the gesture with a surprisingly strong hold. Neither made any attempt to move away until Hermione felt the other witch shiver. Without her cloak McGonagall was only dressed in her nightgown.
Squeezing her for an instant, Hermione let go.
"We should go back," she said, a trace of tremor in her voice.
Minerva nodded and turned, hooking her little finger around Hermione's as she led her out.
As soon as they were in the school's halls the older witch took her hand back, wiping her eye beneath the glasses and walked in silence.
Even when they were back in the office McGonagall said nothing as she was given back her cloak. She went to the desk and leaned against it, tensing her muscles. Hermione felt bad, but she wasn't sure why.
"How did you know where I was?" She asked in a croak. If she didn't speak she was certain she would cry.
With a tilt of her head Minerva finally smiled. She pick up a piece of parchment from the desk and waved it.
Hermione frowned and after a beat realised, shoving her hand into her pocket and finding only her wand. The map must've fallen out.
"It's a very handy little thing," Minerva lilted, "is it your craftsmanship?"
"No. Harry's dad made it with Sirius and Lupin."
"Ah." She tossed it back onto her other papers, returning to her usual grace. "I think if you're not planning on running off again then we should retire for the evening."
Wasn't she going to mention the kiss? Kisses. "Okay."
"Goodnight, Hermione."
As the headmistress started towards her personal rooms Hermione couldn't help but follow with hurried steps. "Min. I, I mean, we should talk."
McGonagall paused with her hand on the doorhandle, bent her head slightly then turned. She looked tired and burdened. She gave a small smile and lifted her head to brush Hermione's cheeks a moment but quickly stopped. "Yes, we should, but it's very late and tomorrow we both need to be at our best."
Hermione looked down, chewing her lip. If they waited until morning then she might lose her nerve but she'd also have more time to prepare her words. She nodded.
"Goodnight, love."
"Goodnight."
There was a beat as they both stared as if for the first time seeing each other clearly. It passed and a moment later McGonagall was gone. Hermione put her hands on the door. She wondered if the other woman regretted it, if maybe it had been a mistake. She worried that she'd be made to go back to the Head Girl rooms and that her friend would no longer be her friend.
Hermione couldn't see Minerva, now leaning against her cold porcelain sink, staring at her reflection. Hermione didn't know Minerva was battling with her own fears, her own monsters.
Too old, not pretty enough, too old, broken, improper, disgusting, she will never love me. Hush.
AN: I had to get drunk to post this. Anxiety out the wazoo. I might have to take a week or two off until my current issue cools down. First time seeing Minerva's emotions both outward and inward. I hope it's not a poor choice. Thanks everyone!
