Muggle Bound: Chapter 13 A Nightingale at Noon
Professor McGonagall was not, in fact, a patient woman. If a thing needed doing, then it should be done and the sooner the better. Dillydallying around, as she characterized it, was something for which she had little tolerance. But over the years and under the tutelage of Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall had learned the importance and necessity of patience. This was one reason that she was exceedingly glad of her feline animagus. In her cat form, Minerva McGonagall could sit for hours undetected, senses alert, and achieve the persona of patience impossible in her human form.
Sitting in the Grangers' back garden, the Professor achieved the epitome of feline disinterest, paws tucked under and her emerald eyes deceptively closed. She looked for all the world like any self-respecting cat enjoying a mid-day doze. Beneath this façade, Minerva McGonagall reviewed the events of the last several hours, events which brought up a store of troublesome memories.
She had trained herself not to think of Billius – years of training to overcome the sore spot in her heart that would never heal. Lately the reminders of him had come thick and fast. First came the events surrounding the tragedy of her close friend and mentor, Albus Dumbledore. Just as she had with Billius, she had pleaded with Albus not to go on that fateful evening. She remembered his last conversation with her.
" Minerva, my dear, you of all people must realize that in some matters, there is no choice, only necessity. This is one of those times. Seers call it fate. If any unfortunate event arises, I trust you to carry on in my absence, both at Hogwarts and in other ways." With this, he clasped both her hands warmly.
The Professor had felt stinging in her eyes but steeled herself to be strong, as the Headmaster obviously needed her to be.
" What other things might those be, Albus?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.
" You must take an even more active role in the Order of the Phoenix so that you can act as personal guardian to Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley," he replied noticing the look of surprise on her features.
" Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley? Yes, of course, but what about Mr. Potter? Surely…" Professor McGonagall caught the slight shake of the Headmaster's head.
" Yes, Minerva. You are quite right. Harry Potter will indeed need to be well protected. But that is a well-established fact and everyone's priority. What must be ensured is the safety of his two closest friends for they have a vital role to play and Harry cannot fully succeed without both of them by his side. I fear that may well be overlooked in a moment of crisis and that a crisis will be very soon at hand. That is why I need your word that you will take on the task of protecting them and ensuring their safety. I know how fond you are of Miss Granger who in so many ways is like yourself. And I have not forgotten, Minerva, of dear Billius and how much young Ronald is like him."
The Professor twitched her tail. Yes, certainly that reminder of Billius was now constantly with her, for although in some aspects of personality, Ronald Weasley was very different from his uncle, in appearance, he was almost Billius's spitting image.
And now, here she was, doing fieldwork once again after so many years, this, to the surprise and she suspected, the annoyance of her fellow colleagues in the Order. But no matter what underground opposition she might have, she would keep her final vow to Albus Dumbledore and keep those two children safe. Well, she revised, not children – hardly children anymore although she remembered the two vastly different eleven year olds arriving at Hogwarts as clearly as yesterday. There had been a quality about both of them even then although she had privately cursed both of their activities and Mr. Potter's too many times to count. Now those two children had transformed into a brilliant, determined young woman and brave yet impulsive young man reminiscent of the Minerva and Billius of yesteryear. And for that reason alone, Minerva McGonagall would see this through and do everything in her considerable power to guard the fates of a young witch and wizard whose actions could very well shape the world of magic to come.
Overhead the trill of a nightingale stirred her from her thoughts. She recalled a night with Billius. Then she stiffened. A nightingale. At noon. Very slowly she unfurled herself and silently on soft cat paws crept stealthily towards the sound.
Ron trailed Hermione following the flagstone path, his thoughts in disarray.
"Hurry," she urged. They left the terrace garden, pushed through a somewhat dilapidated gate and ended up in a clearing whose central feature was a fishpond that had seen better days. Brambles and wild roses hedged the entire area. A wooden swing for two sat beneath an oak tree dappled with sunlight, which filtered through its leaves. A lone bird sang in joyful trills. Panting from the mad dash, Hermione collapsed in the swing beckoning Ron to join her.
She was flushed, eyes bright and sparkling. Her hair was escaping its neat braids and with an impatient movement, she released it from its bonds causing it to cascade down her back and frame her lovely face with its riotous curls.
For a moment, Ron was rooted to the ground. Words could not express what he felt and he knew instinctively that only actions could show her what she meant to him.
He joined her on the swing. Knees touched, arms warmed to each other and lips met in an explosion of passion that was a promise of forever.
When at last they emerged for air, Ron's heart was pounding so hard, he was sure they could hear it back at the house.
" ' Mione," he breathed not daring to say anything else lest it break the incredible connection they had formed.
Hermione bit her lip as she heard Ron's abbreviated version of her name and tears filled her eyes. She reached up and gently caressed his cheek. He shivered uncontrollably, caught her hand and brought it to his lips.
" Oh, Ron." Now she was in his arms and tears flowed form her eyes dampening his shirtfront. He buried his head in her hair reveling in its lemony citrus scent and murmured her name over and over as he stroked her back and her bare arms.
" Ssh – it's alright, 'Mione, love. I'll always be here for you," he whispered.
Finally, she raised her head from his embrace, cheeks streaked with tears but her eyes holding that same intense gaze that burned right to his soul.
" Ronald Weasley, you said you had some things to say to me and I need to hear them –
now," she said her voice wavering with emotion.
Ron now more relaxed than he'd been well, in forever, grinned cheekily at her, " I thought I just told you."
Hermione's eyes glinted dangerously. " If you think that you can get away by not talking to me," she started a familiar tone present in her voice.
Ron cut her off.
" Teasing, love. Sorry – I couldn't resist. You're so bloody beautiful when you get worked up." Hermione stopped mid-sentence, blushed heavily and stared at him in disbelief.
Now he'd done it. No more stalling, Weasley. Taking both of her hands in his, he met her eyes.
" Hermione Granger, I've been a fool ten times over and I hope you can forgive me for all the times when I've screwed things up between us. But I've learned from my mistakes and I want to make it right. You've been my best friend for a long time and I value our friendship more than I can say but it isn't enough anymore. I care about you far beyond friendship. I want us to be together and not just in a " date for my brother's wedding" kind of way, but something more – uh - long term. I'll understand if you want to think about this or if it's not what you want but there it is – from my heart to yours." His voice trailed away and he finished shyly looking down at his feet.
" Stop," Hermione said shakily. " Just stop. Not everything that messed things up between us has been your fault. I wanted you to acknowledge your feelings for me so badly that I deliberately baited you about Krum and McLaggen. I thought if you were jealous enough, you'd eventually admit that you liked me. I'm so sorry, Ron. It was a stupid, manipulative thing to do and it backfired so badly that I thought I'd lost you forever. Because I care about you the same way – far beyond our friendship and I have for the last three years."
Ron sat stunned as he looked down at her. Now Hermione couldn't meet his eyes and gazed worriedly at her hands. He hastened to reassure her.
" Listen, 'Mione. We've wasted a lot of time – or not. Maybe we had to go through all those things to get here. But we're here now and we both want the same thing, don't we?" His heart was now pounding again needing to hear her answer, needing to take her in his arms again and start catching up on all the lost time and making a way to the future.
She looked up then and her brown eyes melted his heart with the love shining in their velvety depths.
" Yes, " she whispered. " Yes, we do want the same things."
As they leaned forward to seal those last words with their lips, the final trill of the nightingale's song sounded immediately above them. Without warning the world around them dissolved into chaos.