Minerva woke with Hermione's leg thrown across her hips, and her tousled, auburn head tucked under her arm. Despite the emotional upheaval of the last few days, Minerva could not believe her good fortune. Hermione accepted and gave affection without reservation. She trusted Minerva, and Minerva's masks (educator, administrator, stalwart hero of the wizarding world) had fallen away so easily that she couldn't imagine putting them back on. She smiled and allowed herself ten minutes to revel in the weight and feel of Hermione against her.

Minerva peeled Hermione's arms and legs off her and slid a pillow under the sleeping woman. Her first order of business for the morning was to inform the Auror office and magical law enforcement about Ron's behavior the night before. She scribbled two quick notes to Gawain Robards and Kingsley Shacklebolt and closed them with her personal seal.

It was still early; too early to wake Hermione when she was still recovering from the effects of a magical draining. Maybe they could do something pleasant and relaxing for lunch. Minerva sighed and sat back to finish the correspondence she had abandoned the night before.

When Hermione shuffled out of the bedroom, bare legged and bed headed, Minerva smiled broadly at her.

"Good morning, my dear." Hermione threw herself down on the couch next to Minerva and listed starboard until her head was on Minerva's shoulder.

"Mmmmmffffff. Hi." Hermione's eyes were closed; Minerva wasn't sure that she had opened them yet. "Breakfast?"

"As the lady wishes." Minerva summoned her tray and tea service. A massive stack of pancakes smothered with fresh berry compote was the centerpiece. Eggs and sausages were ready to be served in their own dishes. Minerva poured Hermione a mug of chocolate and herself a mug of tea. Hermione dished out eggs, sausage and cakes on the warmed plates Tilley had provided.

Hermione passed Minerva her plate and tucked in. The moan she made at the first bite of pancakes was blatantly sexual. Minerva's bite of sausage felt like a rock in her throat.

"Am I going to be able to get Tilley's breakfasts once the semester starts?" Hermione asked with her mouth full.

"We can share breakfast in here most mornings, if you want," Minerva admitted shyly, blushing and keeping her keeping her eyes on her plate.

"I would love that, Minnie, but can you get away with missing breakfast in the Great Hall that much?"

"Headmistress's prerogative, mo cridhe."

"Good. I don't want to give you up entirely to the students."

"We'll have time together 'Mione, I'll make sure of it." Hermione grinned at her, her teeth stained blue by the berries on her pancakes.

They spent a relaxed morning. Hermione took a long soak in the tub with a book spelled against water damage. Minerva worked on her endless stack of correspondence.

Minerva was starting to think about asking Tilley to pack a picnic for two when the elf popped into the room. There was a grim look on her wrinkled face.

"I am absolutely sure I do not want to know what you have to tell me." Hermione's eyes shot up from her book at Minerva's grim tone. She cocked her head at Minerva questioningly.

"Mister Robards has arrived. I tried to direct him to your office, but he is on his way up here." Minerva sighed and rose, dropping her letters on the table. It took but a wave of her hand to summon an outer robe from her room, and close the doors to the bedrooms and bathroom. She drew the robe on and closed it with a spark of magic. Another thought smoothed out her braid and curled the end into a knot at the base of her neck.

Hermione caught her eye and blew her a kiss. Minerva's heart swelled. The door at the base of the tower banged open and the sound of footsteps echoed on the stairs. She drew herself up and slammed down her Headmistress mask.

The look on Minerva's face when the Auror slammed into the room gave Gawain Robards pause, but the head of steam he had built up did not dissipate.

"What is the meaning of this Minerva? Why is one of my Aurors-in-training shouting around the Ministry that you kidnapped his girlfriend and threatened him at wand point when he came to retrieve her?"

Minerva's tone was positively icy. "I cannot say I am surprised to find that political office has turned another stalwart, intelligent person into a suggestible fool." Robard's skin flushed purple at her insults, and Minerva could see his fists clench.

"Minerva, I know that you feel as if you have weight you can throw around at the Ministry, but I was duly appointed by the Minister of Magic and confirmed by the Wizengamot, and I demand some explanations for the accusations that Mr. Weasley has leveled against you."

"Tell me, Gawain, what exactly about a entitled young man suffering from severe PTSD inspires enough confidence in you that you not only believe him, but then come here slinging accusations at me." Minerva used the same tone that she used with particularly dense students; like laying a trail of breadcrumbs to lead an idiot into a trap. Gawain's face grew steadily paler, but his jaw and fists remained clenched.

"What I cannot understand," she continued to muse conversationally, "is how someone exhibiting paranoia, hyper vigilance and violent mood swings has failed to raise red flags at the Auror Office and the Ministry in general."

Now the wind was out of Robard's sails, but his lips remained pressed together in a thin, whitening line, his anger yet apparent.

"Ah, I see. You kept it a secret." Reading Robards was as simple as reading her daily newspaper – she didn't even need magic to do so. "It is disturbing to me that you are using the brave witches and wizards of the Auror Corp to keep the Minister in the dark and perpetuate the suffering of a boy. You have twenty-four hours, Gawain, to begin to right these wrongs, including making a full report to the Minister." She crossed her arms across her chest. "And do not even think about embellishing or trying to lay the blame elsewhere. Kingsley already has my initial observations, and with Mr. Weasley's public outburst, I expect he will draw the same conclusions I have."

"Now, get the hell out of my home." Robards' face darkened again. She held up a hand to forestall any protest.

"Unless you want me to file an official complaint with the Wizengamot about not only your unprofessional conduct, Robards, but about the failure of the Ministry to provide treatment for a war-hero suffering from PTSD, you will leave, now."

The Auror glowered, turned on his heel, and left. Minerva rounded the sofa and fell back on the cushions with a huff. Hermione moved to sit next to her, and took her hand.

"Such a fierce witch," she said. Minerva sighed.

"We've not heard the last of this, 'Mione. I was not exaggerating when I said that the power of political office turns men into idiots."

"Well, Minnie, you are a sure-fire antidote to idiocy."

Minerva raised an eyebrow and commented wryly: "Sometimes it feels as if I'm trying to push back the tides, 'Mione." She cast a glance sideways. "Let's get out of here for the afternoon, mo cridhe."

"What do you have in mind?"

"A picnic in the Highlands?"

"A lovely notion, Ms. McGonagall."

"We'll leave in an hour, my dear. I have to make a call to be sure Robards and Ronald do not do anything more stupid." She kissed the girl's knuckles before excusing herself to her office.