Standing in front of a class of unruly second year witches and wizards for the first time was a terrifying experience, even for a battle-hardened veteran of magical war. As Professor MacInnes introduced the both of the (for which Hermione was thankful, as she wasn't sure she could speak), Hermione hid her sweaty palms in the pockets of her trousers and attempted to not look like an easy target. Of course she had been receiving speculative and curious looks since the students had arrived the night before - thanks to the wizarding press, Hermione's face would be very familiar even to those students who hadn't attended Hogwarts with her.
This first class would be a review exercise, to determine just how much there 12 year old Slytherins and Hufflepuffs had forgotten over the summer holiday. Hermione and the professor passed out a match and a snuffbox to each student. Already Hermione could see looks of dread on a few faces. Professor MacInnes caught Hermione's eye and gave her a rueful look; hopefully these basic spells would be remembered quickly. Moments after completing the distribution of materials, Hermione found herself hustling back to the front of the classroom to field her first question.
Hermione's experiences helping her friends with their coursework had served her well in her three classes and one tutorial session, but the volume of students and the sheer number of questions was simply exhausting to her. Though even the older students were likely to take her advice with little back talk, Hermione was absolutely dead on her feet. She had dragged herself up the short staircase in to their quarters and fallen face first on to the sofa. It had been her intention to wash her face and hie off to the Great Hall for dinner, but it was not to be. She drifted off to sleep almost as soon as her body made contact with the squashy soft cushions.
Hermione woke to a soft hand stroking her hair. Her eyes popped open - the sky outside the curved windows was dark and speckled with stars.
"I slept through supper, didn't I?" Hermione rasped, and was answered by a low chuckled from her love.
"You were not the only one, my dear. Mr. Longbottom was also absent, as was our Divination apprentice. I dare say that assisting both Professor Trelawney and Firenze is no easy task."
"But it's the first day and I'm already lax in my duties."
Minerva chuckled again, rubbing Hermione's back through her robes.
"The students are equally as knackered; we had a few fall asleep at their tables. That is all part of the plan 'Mione - keep everyone tired until things have settled a bit. Helps keep mischief to a minimum the first few weeks of term."
"It's nice to know there's a method to the madness, Minnie, but it didn't work so well when I was a student."
"I was not Headmistress when you were a student," Minerva pronounced haughtily. "And you and your compatriots were rather extraordinary in your ability to attract trouble. I have never experienced anything quite like it." Minerva appeared to be a bit vexed at her past failure to keep Hermione and her friends out of trouble; her inner conflict was written all over her aristocratic features. Hermione was compelled to sit up and kiss her, first on the cheek and then on the lips; an apology of sorts, for all the sleepless nights she and her friends must have caused this woman.
Minerva flushed with profound pleasure and clasped Hermione's hands in her own, smiling a bit dazedly, as if she could not believe her good fortune.
"I brought you a plate of food," she said finally. "And Tilley sent up your chocolate."
"I might be too tired to chew," Hermione whined, giving Minerva her most pitiable face.
Minerva looked at her archly and tutted, producing a plate out of nowhere, piled high with moist breast of turkey, a Yorkshire pudding and string beans. Familiar, fragrant gravy was perfectly applied to the portion. Hermione's stomach growled, and she blushed under Minerva's knowing gaze.
"Thanks for taking care of me," Hermione said abashedly, taking the plate and then the fork that Minerva conjured out of the ether.
"Entirely my pleasure. And please remember to drink your chocolate."
She rose with a smile for Hermione and disappeared into the bedroom, presumably to hang up her heavy teaching robes.
"No rounds tonight?" Hermione asked loudly around a mouthful of turkey.
"Filius offered to take my turn so I could check on you." Minerva stepped out of the bedroom in her nightshirt, a soft robe draped over her shoulders.
"How sweet of both of you."
"I am well known for my sweetness," Minerva drawled, her brogue heavy, the words dripping with good-humored sassiness, walking over to sit down next to Hermione.