Chapter Eight
Aberforth looked on with interest as Hermione hissed in pain when the Herbology Master mark seared into her left shoulder blade, neatly nested alongside the marks for Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, and Arithmancy. "There you have it," Angus said with a bright smile, as she pulled her shirt back up. "You are by rights of your efforts and education a Herbology Master, Madam Black."
"Well done, Master Black," Melok praised. "I now turn you over to Master Dumbledore to begin anew in the discipline of Potions."
"And I accept you, Madam Black, as my apprentice," he replied, saying his part of the simple ceremony.
"Thank you, Master Dumbledore," Hermione replied, bowing her head slightly. "As I have shown reverence to Master Steward, so shall I show reverence to your knowledge and experience. I look forward to learning."
Aberforth cast the spells to bind Hermione as his apprentice, magically committing them both to the process, and then the ceremony was complete. It wasn't a complicated thing, he mused, but it was a necessary one to show that a Mage was continuing the process of learning. This was their primary edict in life. After Hermione Black completed her Potions Mastery, she'd be considered a fully awakened Mage, but that didn't mean she'd stop learning. She'd find Master after Master to work with, and subject after subject to study, and those marks on her shoulder would continue to grow as time passed. If he was a betting man, and he was, he'd say she'd go for Runes next, presuming she didn't figure out how to Master the Goblin arts in her own right. That she could tap into a Goblin core and had a Goblin artery wand made him suspect that perhaps she descended from Goblins and therefore studying the Goblin arts might be possible, but that was an issue for another time. He wasn't about to suggest it to Melok, in any case, because frankly the chemistry between the Goblin and his Mage was palpable enough as it was. The two of them didn't need petrol on the bloody flames, as it were.
"So, Angus," he said, turning to the Herbology Master, "back to Gringotts for you, or something else?"
"Oh, Madam Black lined up another student for me," he said with a wry grin.
"Have you taken him to Ollivander's yet?" Hermione inquired.
"Yesterday," Angus confirmed. "Let me tell you, Garrick was not pleased."
"Of course not," Hermione huffed. "A wand broken or lost in an accident is one thing. One broken on purpose, especially a rare type, is a travesty. I trust you had it charged to my account?"
"Broken on purpose?" Aberforth asked, intrigued.
"Oh, nothing to worry about," she replied dismissively, clearly not wanting to get into it. "Merely a side project of mine that Angus has kindly agreed to assist with. The less you know the better, given if the Ministry finds out there would be trouble. Ideally, your brother doesn't find out either."
The barkeep snorted. "I generally assume that anything we talk about falls under that category, Hermione. Remind me, when is it that you and Albus got off on the wrong foot so badly?"
She raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Albus has never met me, Aberforth. I'm sure from his point of view there's nothing at all wrong with our relationship. I merely have the advantage of knowing more about him than he knows about me. Speaking of knowing more about people, Angus, as things develop with your new student, I expect that he'll have a natural talent for warding. Do encourage that."
The Herbology Master raised an eyebrow. "It's real funny how you seem to know stuff about folks. You get more and more interesting by the week, Madam Black. That said, I'm supposed to meet him in half an hour, so I best be off. Good luck, my dear."
Hermione and Angus hugged briefly, and then Master Steward was gone, leaving just the three of them. The young Mage sighed. "How's Aurelius?" she asked. "I've not seen him about lately."
Aberforth smiled. "He's been busy. Before he got too sick he'd been in Healer training, and now that he actually has a future to think on, he's gone back to that. Albus pulled some strings at Mungo's so he doesn't have to start from scratch again, and can just pick up where he left off. He still has a few more years of study to go, but it's a direction for the boy."
Hermione looked thoughtful. "Curious."
Melok smirked. "Something not lining up in your calculations, Hermione?"
She cast the Goblin an annoyed glance. "Let's just say that I am concerned about ripples."
Aberforth was intrigued. He'd already figured out there was something decidedly off about this young Mage. By all accounts, she shouldn't even exist. Another one shouldn't feasibly be born for another decade or so, much less born three decades ago. There was a rhythm to these things, after all. Still, there was no doubt in what she was. That, of course, stood to reason that if she was a Mage, and knowing what Mages were capable of, one might suppose that she was a Mage out of time. Her hints about things to come suggested, to him, that she might be from a time yet to come. Of course, this was all speculation. The alternative was that she was a Mage with the Sight. That was feasible as well. He did find it curious that she might state that Albus had not met her. That did not necessarily mean she had not met him.
No matter though. He hadn't proof and was not about to accuse without it. Given the fact that she had chosen to confide in him this much supposed that if he played his cards right and earned her trust, down the line she might trust him in exchange, and share the truth of who she really was. She'd already saved Aurelius' life, and that was worth a great deal with Aberforth, but that did not mean he didn't have more to gain from this Mage. He was, after all, still a Slytherin, and keen on ensuring his future was as good as he could make it. At present, the best move seemed to be to wait for her to put more cards on the table, and to assist her in becoming fully awakened. Earning Hermione Black's friendship, Aberforth mused, would likely be the most sensible thing he would ever do in his lifetime.
Minerva McGonagall was in Hogsmeade on a free afternoon, getting supplies. The weather was dreadful and she had her cloak pulled up over her head, unwilling to use Charms unless it was completely necessary. Her grandfather, Eamon Ross, had been a Charms Grandmaster. For as long as she could remember he'd hammered it into her head the importance of not overusing Charms. He wouldn't tell her the spells to show them, but he did tell her about Golems, and the basic principles behind Charms, as an explanation. Even that much information he'd sworn her to secrecy over, although he'd been adamant that no grandchild of his would abuse Golems. Minerva had loved her Grandfather, even if he'd been vocally against her parents' marriage, right up to his death during the war with Grindelwald.
Suddenly, Minerva spotted a somewhat familiar figure in the street, interestingly one of the few in Hogsmeade also not employing Charms to prevent from getting wet. It was Hermione Black. While she'd only had a singular conversation with the Witch, that had been a pleasant one, and Malcolm had reported a similarly pleasant conversation about Herbology with the Witch a few weeks prior. Minerva had to admit to some curiosity if this woman had any interest or knowledge in the subject of Transfiguration. "Madam Black!" she called, before she could talk herself out of it.
The woman in question looked up and spotted Minerva. She seemed a bit conflicted at the sight of her, but ultimately, after a pause, smiled and responded. "Miss McGonagall! What brings you to Hogsmeade?"
Minerva reached her position and replied. "Oh, I got a job up at Hogwarts. I started in September. As such, Hogsmeade is sort of my stomping ground these days."
"Really? Congratulations!" Hermione said brightly, clearly pleased for her. "Can I buy you a celebratory drink? Belated, I know, but still, it's an accomplishment that should be marked."
The Scottish Witch grinned. "A drink, or ice cream? I heard you ran into my brother Malcolm."
Hermione laughed, and nodded for Minerva to follow her to the Three Broomsticks, "Either is an option at the Broomsticks," she remarked. "Although in this weather, I was thinking of tea."
Minerva followed, asking briefly about how married life was treating the other Witch and getting fairly non committal but positive responses as they walked. Then, when they got inside the Three Broomsticks, she pulled out her wand to dry them both off before they went to find a seat. "Here, let me…" she began to say.
Hermione evidently had much the same thought and had drawn her own wand. "Let me dry…"
Spells cast at the same moment left them both quite dry, although Minerva tingled as their respective magics interacted. It was hardly the first time she'd had her magic cross paths with another - that was par for the course in daily life, after all - but she'd never felt anything like this when it happened. Typically, magic crossing left a bit of an overloading shock sensation, and left her feeling momentarily drained. If it was a high level spell, it might even leave her needing an Invigorating Draught. This, however, was something entirely different. She felt grounded. She felt like she'd just downed a bloody Pepper Up. "Sorry about that," she said softly, not knowing what else to say as they both stood there just staring at one another. Minerva noted, with interest, that Hermione looked almost scared of what had just happened, which made her even more resolved to drop it, at least for the moment. "Shall we?" she suggested.
"Of course," Hermione replied, looking wary. "Shall we order some tea? Perhaps some ginger biscuits?"
Minerva's mouth watered at the suggestion. "That sounds divine."
The other woman laughed a little, gently pushing her toward a booth near the back of the bar, quiet and out of the way. Minerva didn't question, accepting her companion's preference, and took a seat. "So," Hermione asked. "How are you settling into teaching?"
The Scottish woman sighed. "Mostly it's alright. Professor Dumbledore is still teaching the upper years. I'm only doing First through Fourth years for now. The hardest bit is getting them interested in Transfiguration, to be honest. They don't really seem to get a ton of thrill in turning a matchstick into a bloody needle, you know?"
Hermione leaned back and smiled softly. "Have you mastered your Animagus form yet?"
Minerva nodded. "I thought of showing the students my Animagus form, but I'm afraid I'll frighten them."
"Oh, Merlin," the other Witch groaned. "What is your form?"
"Leopard."
Hermione blinked several times. "You couldn't have been a smaller cat? Albus won't be much help either unless you're doing a lesson in the Black Lake. His form is a Dolphin, I believe."
"To his deep annoyance, yes," Minerva replied. "How'd you know that?"
Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "It came up in conversation one day at Hog's Head, talking about Transfiguration with his brother."
"So you're versed in the subject, then?" she asked, leaning over anxiously. Minerva couldn't help it, the idea that this woman might be knowledgeable in her subject of expertise intrigued her deeply. From what Malcolm had said, she knew enough about Herbology, she might as well be getting a Mastery in the Subject.
"Versed enough to be an Animagus myself," the other Witch shrugged. "Also, Transfiguration is extremely useful when you're trying to take out a Basilisk. I was working with two others, a while back, and we used a combination of Defense spells and Transfiguration to contain and kill a Basilisk. That was a party. Honestly Minerva, you asked how married life was? Don't get me wrong, I love my husband - but it's boring! I miss being in the field. Being Lady Black leaves something to be desired."
"You're awfully young to be talking like that," Minerva said after a moment. "You sound like you fought a war."
"Funny thing about war, Minerva, is that it doesn't care much if you're a child," came a hard reply. "It comes to your doorstep all the same, prepared or not. I was lucky, and smart enough to survive. That didn't change that I was a child soldier. I'm not a trophy bride for Sirius, you know. He respects me as an equal because I've earned that respect. I might be your age, but gods, I feel a great deal older."
Minerva eyed her curiously. "You just admitted to knowledge in Defense, and Transfiguration. I know from your conversation with Malcolm you're knowledgeable about Herbology. You were picking up a book on Parselmagic of all bloody things when we met. What else are you versed in?"
Hermione laughed a little. "It would be a shorter list to say what I don't know something about, to be honest. My current obsession is Potions. That's what I'm digging into. Malcolm caught me in the middle of my Herbology obsession. Before that was Charms. I had the privilege of working with a Grandmaster…"
"That's why you weren't using Charms to protect yourself from the rain," Minerva said with a smirk. "You know about Golems."
Her companion gave her an odd look. "Why do you know about them?"
"My Grandfather was Charms Grandmaster," Minerva admitted. "I don't know the spells to see them, but he did tell me about them and liked to go on and on about not overusing Charms."
Hermione sipped her tea. "Interesting. Who's the Charms Master up at Hogwarts?"
"Chelsey Keating," Minerva replied, raising an eyebrow. "He's Head of Ravenclaw, as well. Decent enough man, although fairly grumpy toward anyone who isn't in his House. One of my best friends was a Ravenclaw though, so he's always been alright toward me, and he's maintained that since I joined the staff in September."
"Genia?" the other Witch asked, smirking.
"Right, I forgot you and Melok hit it off," the Scottish woman remembered from their last meeting.
"I was actually in Hogsmeade meeting with him," Hermione confessed. "I think he's still down at Hog's Head talking with Aberforth. I don't know, the boys shoved me out the door because their conversation was too manly for a girl like me. Merlin, they're lucky I didn't hex them both."
Minerva was startled. "You're not worried about propriety, meeting a married man without his wife present, or your husband present?"
Hermione snorted. "Not particularly. I'm sure people will talk, but Genia trusts Melok, and Sirius trusts me. Melok and I are friends, that's all. Besides, most of the time we meet, we're meeting with a third party anyway, so there's a witness, even if it isn't one of our spouses. Besides, from what I hear from your brother, you meet with Mister Wood unattended quite a bit. Hardly seems like you have much room to talk about propriety."
"Bloody Malcolm," Minerva groaned. "I've known Roland since we were eleven years old. He's like a brother to me, except I actually like this brother."
Her companion looked intrigued. "Kinship bond?"
"What a kinship bond?" Minerva asked, baffled.
"You have the Hogwarts Library, and Albus Dumbledore at your disposal. Look it up," Hermione teased.
The two continued to converse for another half hour before Hermione insisted that she needed to be going. Minerva was loath to see her go, enjoying every moment of this woman's company, the back of her mind resting on the mingling of their magic that had occurred at the door, and wondering what that meant. The trepidation in Hermione's expression when it happened had been clear as day, as if she knew something but didn't dare say, and one way or another, Minerva was going to figure out what the hell it was.
Right after she looked up what a kinship bond was.
Hermione made it only a few dozen steps out of the Three Broomsticks before her gait began to move from walk to run. Onlookers might have excused her behavior as a desire to get from one point to another quickly in light of the rain, but in reality, she just wanted to get as far away from Minerva as she could, as quickly as she could. She'd known from the off that interacting with the Scottish woman on any regularity would inevitably mean their magic would cross and Minerva would become aware of the harmonic between them, but when she'd crossed paths with the Witch an hour ago, she'd told herself that the odds of that happening during only their second encounter were ridiculously slim.
Not so.
Of course, bolting only seconds after the harmonic engagement would have given her away, so she'd pressed on and enjoyed tea and conversation for a while before making an excuse to leave. Gods, how she'd enjoyed speaking with Minerva, although it hurt deeply that she couldn't be totally honest with the woman. In Alpha, there had never been a time when she'd been unable to be anything but completely honest with Minerva, and in Beta it hadn't crossed her mind to hold anything back. To restrain herself now with a version of Minerva who was her peer was disconcerting to say the least. How could she hold back in a relationship with a woman when not holding back had been the foundation of their relationship in any other reality? It well and truly boggled the mind.
Distracted, Hermione plowed right into another Witch as she came onto the porch of the Hog's Head, intent on seeing if Melok had left yet, desperate for the easy comfort she always found when he was near. "I'm sorry," she uttered, pulling her hood down and looking at who she'd run into.
An older Witch glanced at her curiously. "If you were a student at the school, I'd be giving you detention for running headlong into a Professor, but I think you're a bit old to attend Hogwarts."
Hermione grinned, unable to help herself from appreciating the dry wit. "Again, I apologize. My mind was clearly elsewhere, Professor…"
"Filch," the woman introduced herself. "Agatha Filch."
"Hermione Black," she introduced in turn, offering her hand. "I didn't attend Hogwarts, so I'm slowly getting to know the staff up there, although my husband and step-children all attended."
"Of course, the Blacks are hard to forget," Agatha mused. "Slytherins, the lot of them."
"By the disdain in your tone, I take it you were not a Slytherin yourself."
"Hardly," she chuckled. "Ravenclaw, through and through."
"I was just having tea with Professor McGonagall," Hermione admitted, mentally recalling that Minerva had noted Professor Filch was the Latin Professor, and in the upper years, taught a class on spell development. Hermione was also pretty sure she was talking to Argus Filch's mother. "She expressed her own struggles with a certain Slytherin on staff."
Agatha looked thoughtful. "I had noticed there was some tension between Tiberius and Minerva. He's clueless, and keeps making attempts to be friendly with her, but it's clear to me that she wants absolutely nothing to do with him, and I'm fairly certain that it has nothing to do with House rivalry. Are you friends with Minerva?"
"I'm not certain I'd call us friends," came a soft reply. "We've crossed paths a few times, and have a bit in common, aside from a number of mutual acquaintances. I do find that on the basis of the simple idea that Witches ought to look out for one another, I'm concerned about Avery and rather wish he'd leave her be. She's just starting out on the job; the last thing she needs is him pestering her."
"She's very young," Agatha remarked, "but I think she'll grow into the job quickly enough. Tiberius will hardly be the greatest of her trials, and such trials are the province of youth. Youth, of course, is hardly a crime, so I cannot criticize her for struggling a bit."
Hermione smirked. "I hope not, as I'm about her age and would hate to be considered a criminal."
The Latin Professor eyed her seriously. "Physically her age, Madam Black, but if the rumors are true you've lived far more than Minerva has. Age is often more than a matter of the body. Life can make you grow old long before time does."
Brown eyes widened in surprise. "Perceptive, Professor Filch. I am quite often looked at as the young, innocent bride of my older, more experienced husband, but the truth is I've seen as much war as he has, if not more. We fell in love because we match - scar for scar and nightmare for nightmare. You'd be right to suppose that I'm far from young where it counts."
Agatha nodded, seeming to understand. "I was there once. It isn't fair when innocence is taken away so early in our lives."
"I'd like to spare Minerva such experiences," Hermione admitted. "She's a good person, and if I can protect her innocence, I'm keen to."
"Hard to do that when she spends ten months of the year at Hogwarts, and you do not," the older woman remarked.
"I suppose the simple thing would be to ask if you'd aid me in that project," Hermione said, smirking, "given we appear to share a similar view on the subject."
"You want me to look after the young Transfiguration Professor?" Agatha inquired, looking amused. "What's in it for me?"
"What happened to not being a Slytherin?" the younger Witch scoffed.
"Fair enough," Agatha gave. "I suppose I'm supposed to just call it common decency, then?"
"You've a son, haven't you?" Hermione asked. "Imagine she was your daughter. What shadows in the corner would you protect your daughter from?"
The Latin Professor regarded her carefully. "Well played, Madam Black. If Minerva were my daughter, then I'd ensure Tiberius Avery never had a chance to be alone with her. I'd encourage a friendship between her and Pomona Sprout. I'd probably recruit Madam Dagworth in mentoring the girl."
"The Healer?"
Agatha nodded. "Olivia is lovely, and very much the maternal sort. I'm not one for coddling, and if the objective here is to maintain Minerva's innocence, she'll need a mother figure of sort. I can orchestrate, but even with Argus I was never very good with the warm and fuzzy sort of thing. Now for a father figure…"
"Albus?" Hermione suggested.
"Merlin, no!" the older woman said. "I think they'll be good friends, and he'll be a mentor to her in other ways, but I think in the long run there is a potential for equality between them. That can't happen if she views him as a father. No, I'm thinking the best option there is going to be Dajan. Yes, he'll do nicely."
Hermione nodded in acceptance, having already heard Minerva speak fondly of Dajan Hancock, the Divination Professor. She'd had to resist the urge to laugh then, and was feeling much the same now, considering that Alpha Minerva had been so outspokenly dismissive of Divination, and as a rule found Sybil Trelawny to be an irritation at best. Previously, Hermione had thought that Minerva just didn't think well of the subject of Divination on a whole, but at this moment, she was sort of wondering if perhaps she just had such fond memories of Dajan Hancock that by comparison, seeing Sybil every day just made her feel bitter. It would not have been unlike Alpha Severus had been with Harry while comparing him with James Potter. If that was true, it was an interesting insight into Minerva, especially into why Minerva had been so tolerant of Severus' treatment of Harry over the years. She may not have approved, but she had understood, and at the very least, knew she had no room to talk.
"I'll have to trust your judgment," Hermione admitted. "I do know Minerva has a poor relationship with her parents. Merlin knows she could use some surrogates."
Agatha gave a suffering sigh. "Alright then, I'll see to it. I suppose you'll want me to keep you posted?"
"On occasion," the younger woman said with an indulgent smile. "You can leave messages with Aberforth, at Hog's Head."
"Why not just Owl you directly?" came a curious question.
"I'm somewhat keen on Albus Dumbledore remaining unaware I have contacts within Hogwarts," she admitted. "You already have an established relationship with Aberforth, and therefore speaking to him will go unnoticed. Albus has yet to put together Aberforth and I are acquainted."
"Dear oh dear," Agatha said, eyes sparkling. "What is your issue with our Deputy Head?"
"In short?" Hermione laughed. "His ego. I know enough of him to know we would not get on, so I make a point to avoid him. The greater problem is that I also know enough of him to know that he'll meet me and think at first that we could be great friends, and won't realize otherwise until he decides on a dime that we're more suited as rivals, and I haven't the time or inclination to deal with an Albus who views me in that manner. I'm heading off a problem at the pass, I suppose."
"I'm suddenly wondering if you would have sorted to Slytherin, had you come to Hogwarts," the Latin Professor admitted.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I've been accused of that numerous times, however I'm Muggleborn so I very much doubt it. My husband insists I'd have been a Gryffindor, although Minerva's initial assessment was Ravenclaw, if memory serves. The only House I'm seldom accused of is Hufflepuff."
"Loyalty is a wonderful thing," Agatha mused, "although it takes a rare individual to be defined by it. I think most of Hufflepuff House are defined by their hardworking nature and loyalty to their family House. It becomes a generational thing. To sort to Hufflepuff simply because a loyal nature is the core of who you are, that is what defines a first generation Hufflepuff."
"That's an insight worthy of a Head of Hogwarts," Hermione complimented.
"I assure you, that is not my aim," the Latin Professor laughed. "It's bad enough I'm the sister of one."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Armando is your brother?"
Agatha nodded. "After my husband died, during that mess with Grindelwald, I had few options for employment that wouldn't have involved sending my son into fostering. If Argus was a Wizard it might have been different, but him being a Squib made things difficult. Armando was willing to take me on at Hogwarts, though, and although Argus is grown now, I see no reason to change careers at this point. I'm happy where I am, and Argus is in line to be Caretaker after Apollyon retires, so his future is secure as well."
Well, Hermione mused, that explained a great deal about Argus Filch. She'd always wondered how the Caretaker had come to Hogwarts. He'd been a fixture for as long as she'd been a student, and knew from what Remus had said that Argus had been there when he'd been a student as well. That he was Headmaster Dippet's nephew explained a great deal about his appointment, especially if he came to Hogwarts when he was still a child. Hogwarts had been his home for most of his life, not unlike Rubeus Hagrid.
After a few more minutes of chatting, Agatha excused herself, needing to get back to the school, and Hermione peeked in the window to confirm that Aberforth was alone at the bar and Melok had indeed left sometime while she'd been at the Broomsticks with Minerva. Still wanting to vent about what had happened with the Scottish Witch, Hermione stepped off the porch of the Hog's Head, and apparated to Melok's front door, hood up to protect her from the rain. She knocked on his door, and was unsurprised when Genia Flitwick opened it.
"Hermione," the former Ravenclaw greeted. "Come in! Get out of the rain!"
"Thank you, Genia," Hermione replied. "Is your husband about?"
Genia smiled. "In his office, doing Merlin knows what."
Hermione eyed the Witch's very rounded stomach, smiling as she thought of Filius' impending birth. "How are you feeling? We're getting down to the wire, aren't we?"
"Another two months," Genia said with a smile. "You ready to meet your Godson?"
"Of course," she replied, smiling brightly. "I hope you understand that I'll be over here all the time after he's born, right? I do intend to spoil that little boy rotten."
"Between the two of us perhaps we'll make up for the fact that Melok tends to be very much the disciplinarian," the pregnant woman grinned. "Melok says you're very clever. Are you going to help me teach Filius the Goblin tongue? I know he's not genetically Goblin, but I want Melok's son to still grow up with some understanding of his father's heritage."
Hermione almost choked, not having realized that Melok and Genia had decided on a name for the baby. While her mind couldn't forget that this child was Filius Flitwick, she also knew that she was changing the timeline and therefore it was possible that the name Melok and Genia chose might be different this time around. "When did you decide on a name?" she asked. "And, of course, we can certainly teach Filius the Goblin tongue."
"Do you like it?" Genia asked brightly. "I actually picked it before I got pregnant. Filius for a boy, or Filia for a girl. I told Melok that he'd lost the right to name our firstborn given he was dragging arse on deciding how our firstborn was going to come about. To say the least it motivated him to get a move on with that decision before he lost more rights in regard to our child's future."
She laughed heartily, loving this insight into her former Charms Professor. "I love the name. It's perfect. He'll be wonderful, Genia, I just know it. He'll be as smart as his mother, and as stubborn as his father."
"Merlin save the Wizarding world!" Genia laughed.
"Hermione?" Melok asked, coming into the room. "What are you doing here?"
"Ah, I actually popped by to see you, but I got distracted by your wife," she admitted. "Have you got a few minutes?"
He nodded toward the direction he'd just come. "My office?"
Genia smiled, and waved them off, and Hermione followed her friend down the hall and into the Goblin's personal office, taking a seat on a leather sofa, as he sat on a matching armchair opposite her after he closed the door behind him. "I just saw you a little over an hour ago," he teased. "What could possibly have come up in between then and now?"
"Minerva bloody McGonagall!" Hermione groaned, leaning back in her seat. "I ran into her after I left you and Aberforth."
"I take it you knew her, in the future?" Melok guessed. "Wait, she was one of the ones you broke out of Gringotts with. I remember now."
She couldn't tell him too much, she knew, but she had to tell him something or she was going to lose her damn mind. "Yes. We have harmonic cores. To say the least I've been avoiding her since we got here because I didn't want to complicate things, but we ran into one another in Hogsmeade and my idiot self decided to invite her for a drink because she just got hired at Hogwarts and I wanted to celebrate with her… gods I'm an idiot."
"Were you sexually involved with her, where you come from?" he asked. "Is that what you mean by complicated?"
"Ugh!" she grumbled. "No, we weren't. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't tempted by her though. I'd also be lying if I said that there wasn't a moment when she wasn't clearly tempted by me. Where I'm from she's more than five decades my senior, however, and our lives were on very different tracks. Here, though…"
"Here, you are a married woman, Hermione," Melok reminded her sternly.
"I love Sirius," she said. "Know that, Melok. Gods know I love him. Any connection I feel otherwise doesn't negate that…"
At that moment, Hermione realized with a punch, she wasn't entirely sure if she was talking about Minerva still, or about the Goblin in front of her. Just like in the war torn reality, Melok was becoming her emotional confidant, and with an internal groan Hermione realized that she was spinning in circles with the same issue. She couldn't talk to Sirius about Minerva because she knew Sirius viewed Minerva as a maternal figure, and that he wouldn't be objective, or for that matter, comfortable. That led her to the second most trusted figure in her life - Melok - driving her emotionally closer to him and backing her into yet another corner she didn't want to be in, where she was having feelings for someone she shouldn't.
"... I refuse to see how having feelings for someone, passing or otherwise, is criminal," she concluded softly. "Is the heart so limited that it can only love one person at a time? Are we as people so small to restrict ourselves in that way?"
"You are an odd woman, Hermione Black," Melok mused.
She laughed. "You… another you, have mentioned before. In any case, Minerva is very smart. Our magic collided when we were both casting drying spells, and I have to assume she'll be running headlong into research mode by now and before long, be familiar with harmonic magic. Fortunately for me, not many books outright state the sexual implications. Most of the time you learn that first hand, or are told by others who have encountered it. The books aren't uncouth enough to put it in print, typically."
"That may actually be to your disadvantage," the Goblin pointed out. "As if Minerva was aware that the harmonic would potentially drive you to be sexual with one another, it might have scared her off. On the other hand, the potential for powerful magic will likely have her banging on your door. Everyone likes power."
"You're an arse, Melok," Hermione grumbled. "You're also right."
Fuck, she thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
PLEASE REVIEW!