Minerva looked skeptical and took another sip of her tea, but remained quiet. Mirroring the older woman's actions, Hermione closed her eyes when the strong note of Firewhiskey warmed her throat.

"I told the children that we'd visit you, and they didn't know who you are. I had to remind them of Molly's birthday party… and even for that I had to think for a while. I never meant for that to happen." She shook her head, trying to figure out how it had happened anyway. "When I left Hogwarts, I was sure we'd stay in contact. I wanted to write or have tea with you, but I simply wasn't brave enough. You were so busy, and I wasn't bored myself so I kept thinking that you had better things to do than stay in contact with one of your countless former pupils. Maybe I am right, but when I heard that you wouldn't be at Hogwarts this year and that you weren't happy about it, I thought it was a good time to find out." Hermione glanced at Minerva, unsure what to do. She had said and done everything she wanted, and now it was time to ultimately find out if she had made a mistake by coming.

If there was one thing Minerva McGonagall wasn't good at, it was showing her emotions. She should have let Hermione know that she would be pleased to stay in contact. It wasn't the young woman's fault. Minerva had been born into a time where it was frowned upon for women to express themselves and neither living through three wars nor her position at Hogwarts helped overcoming that particular obstacle. She had missed Hermione. She had missed the easy banter between them that nobody else dared having with her; she had missed the girl's thoughtfulness and the ability to know when to push on a subject and when to let go and yes, she had missed having someone in her life who could keep up in a discussion with her ever since Albus…

"That is understandable, Hermione. I should have told you that I too hoped we'd stay in contact before you left. It was unexpected to see you tonight, but much appreciated." Minerva covered Hermione's hand with her own. "Let's not dwell upon the wasted time, but make the most of the remaining."

With a smile, Hermione turned her hand and gave Minerva's a gentle squeeze. "I… thank you, Minerva." She wanted to take the older woman into her arms and leaned forwards, hoping Minerva would follow her lead. Before today she had only once seen someone hug Minerva McGonagall and even that had looked awkward, as if she didn't really know what to do. It was obvious the woman wasn't used to showing her affection like that, but she returned the hug, and when Hermione started to let go, she held her even tighter. "I'm glad you came today, and I'm delighted to get to know your lovely children."

A weight Hermione hadn't known to be carrying felt like suddenly being lifted from her shoulders as she tightened her hold on her mentor. "You have no idea how much that means to me." She slowly let go of Minerva and took both of her hands in hers.

A genuine smile graced the older woman's lips, and she seemed to look a little better than she had earlier when her guests had arrived. "Now, do you have plans for today? I have to admit that I don't have enough groceries." She looked a little embarrassed, even when it wasn't her fault at all. Who could have known she wouldn't be alone today of all days?

"Don't worry about that," Hermione soothed. She had taken everything she needed to prepare a decent dinner for four with her. "I have everything we need stored in my bag. If you like, I'd suggest that you stay with the children, and I'll go and cook dinner." It would be a wonderful chance for Minerva to spend some alone time with the children.

The elder woman's eyes went wide with disbelief. "Hermione, I can't let you cook! You're a guest."

Hugo took that precise moment to demand Minerva's attention, and Hermione was proud of the wonderful timing he had. "Aunty Merva, look, we have finished. Come and put it on the tree now?"

Hermione smiled at Hugo's request and gave Minerva a 'told-you-so-look' . "A guest who invited herself. I enjoy cooking, and I have the feeling you'd have a hard time doing so with the children fighting for your attention."

Getting tired of waiting, the little boy stood up and ran to his aunt and grabbed her hand. Rose would never admit it, but sometimes she was very glad that Hugo had never been afraid to voice what he wanted, because this was one of the rare moments when she hoped for the same. "You coming now?" He asked and tugged a little at the long fingers in his.

Minerva looked sternly at the impatient boy, and he immediately stopped tugging. Satisfied with the result of her characteristic look, she allowed a small smile to reassure Hugo. "I'm coming, my lad."

Hermione stood and held her hand out for her mentor and received the expected glare. She was quite proud of herself that she hadn't flinched or otherwise betrayed that the glare still affected her like a first year. She was even more proud when she successfully managed not to smirk when the elder woman took the offered help in the end.

"I'll show you the kitchen." She had obviously no saying in her own house today, and it was a welcome change. Minerva was a woman of decisions, but every now and again she wished that for once somebody else would tell her what to do. Of course there were quite a few people who'd love to do just that – the Minister for Magic being one of them – but there were only very few Minerva actually listened to. It came as a surprise for her that Hermione seemed to be one of them.

The young woman briefly patted her mentor's arm. "There is no need, I'm sure I can find my way around, and if run into a problem I'll come and ask you."

Hermione smiled when she saw Rose walk up to Minerva and take her hand, wanting to make sure her aunt didn't fall. The proud mother was almost through the door when she whispered a spell and quickly escaped. She didn't need to see the undoubtedly loving look the elder woman would give her when an armchair appeared in front of the tree.

Xxx

Minerva couldn't even remember the last time she had felt like this. It was a piece of her own personal heaven, she decided. Slowly but surely she felt herself truly relax, and every time Rose or little Hugo presented her with one of their bright and absolutely honest smiles, she felt another inch of her inner wall ripple. It was a dangerous thing to allow, but at this point she had no defenses left, and for the first time in very many years she knew that it was alright.

She was sitting comfortably in the soft armchair Hermione had so cheekily provided, and the smell of duck and red cabbage drifted in from the kitchen along with a soft hummed version of 'Walking in a Winter Wonderland'. Hugo was concentrating on putting a bauble on a branch that was too high for him, and Rose had just grabbed another, much older bauble and admired it.

"Do you like it?" Minerva asked, remembering the day she had seen it for the very first time.

Rose carefully got up and sat on the armrest of her aunt's chair, holding the precious bauble carefully in her hands. "Yes, it is very beautiful."

"My mother made it when I was about your age," Minerva explained softly, and for a moment she could see the face of her mother. She hadn't thought of her in a very long time, and she was surprised that the feeling of loss was still so prominent.

Rose looked skeptical. "Made it?"

The old woman smiled at the question, a nonverbal spell slipping from her lips to help Hugo with the branch of the tree momentarily lowering it just enough so that he could reach over, then turned back to the bright girl sitting beside her. "Well, not made it, but she painted it."

"Wow." Rose turned the bauble in the sunlight and watched the glitter lines of the painted house sparkle. Seeing the faraway look on her aunt's face, the small girl carefully started sliding from the armrest onto Minerva's lap, but stopped when she remembered that her aunt had limped earlier.

Minerva saw the movement and gently wrapped her arms around the small girl. She pulled her down to sit sideways on her lap and sent the bauble to a place on the tree. Rose trustingly leaned against her and out of pure instinct, Minerva brought her hand up to stroke the soft brown hair that was falling down in slight waves. It was a moment so true and peaceful that Minerva felt her eyes fill up with unwanted tears.

"Aunty Minerva," Rose whispered into the old woman's chest.

A gentle hand caressed the girl's rosy cheek, marveling at the soft feeling. "Yes, darling?"

Brown eyes briefly locked with wiser green ones. "Can we see you more often?" There was a little pause, then a softer, "I like being with you."

It was such a simple confession, but it caught Minerva off guard. People usually didn't like spending time with her. They did spend time with her, of course, but mostly for a reason: trouble with pupils, meetings about the finances or general discussions regarding Hogwarts. There was no time for social activities, and if Minerva was honest, she didn't particularly mind. The very few people in her life who wanted to spend time with her and whom she liked in return had long since passed on. She was not isolated and of course there were a few people she cared about and who cared about her, Filius being one of them, but a child wanting to be with her was new. Especially children had always seemed to be very happy when the lesson ended and they could leave her presence. Hermione Granger was the first pupil who didn't seem so eager to leave. It had taken a lot of time, but during Hermione's final year at Hogwarts, Minerva had even shared tea with the young woman. It was unbelievable that Minerva now held Hermione's little girl while her little boy put baubles on the tree in her house on Christmas Eve.

Minerva tenderly kissed Rose's head and held her a little closer. "Of course you can, my darling girl. I'm looking forward to your visits already."

Xxx

Cooking had become Hermione's way of relaxing, and it rarely failed its purpose. Who would have thought she'd enjoy an activity like that? Certainly neither Hermione nor her friends – and yet she was standing in her mentor's kitchen preparing dinner. It was a lovely old country kitchen with dark wooden worktops. The only thing that seemed unusual was that there wasn't a scratch to be found on the slightly uneven surface. Minerva obviously hadn't spent much time in this kitchen, – at least not cooking.

A giggle that Hermione indentified as Hugo's drew Hermione's attention to the living room. She glanced into the oven one last time and checked the hour. It would be another half an hour before dinner was ready. Enough time to set the table, which Hermione had spotted earlier in the room that was still occupied by its owner and her two children. Silently pushing the door open, the young mother's heart beat a little faster at the scene before her. Rose was sitting sideways on Minerva's lap while Hugo sat at her feet and giggled with joy when Minerva charmed the paintings on the baubles to move. The old woman looked utterly content and for the first time since Hermione had met her all those years ago, truly at peace. Every now and then she reached up and gently stroked Rose's cheek as she trustingly rested her head on the old woman's chest.

Quietly Hermione moved further into the room until she stopped right behind the armchair. Rose had closed her eyes, and Hugo was so engrossed in the now beautifully decorated tree that he didn't notice his mother. For a moment Hermione was sure that her presence had been unnoticed by her mentor as well – until the elder witch raised her hand to the height of her shoulder. An amused smile graced Hermione's lips as she stepped closer and took the offered hand, resting it against Minerva's boney shoulder. She should have known that it was nearly impossible to escape the Animagus sensitive hearing. Hermione had hoped for a nice relaxing time but if she was honest with herself, she had expected the visit to be rather short and slightly awkward after all this time without any sort of meaningful contact. The way this day had turned out so far was exceptional and beyond everything Hermione had dared to hope.

Minerva gave Hermione's hand a gentle squeeze before she let it go as the position was becoming too uncomfortable for her to maintain.

"You've done a wonderful job with the tree," Hermione praised and stepped around the armchair.

Hugo's head shot up when he heard the familiar voice of his mother and gifted her with a very proud smile. "We did it all alone with aunty Merva's help."

"Her name is Minerva," Rose corrected her brother as usual and carefully slid off the elder woman's lap to lean against her mum.

Taking the chance when it presented itself, the small boy started climbing onto the newly vacated lap, complaining in a whiny voice, "That is too difficult for me!"

Minerva helped Hugo up and sat him on her lap, facing her. "Nothing is too difficult to learn, my little lad, but if you like, we can find another name you can call me."

A small hand reached out to play with the large buttons of the elder woman's cardigan. "You have another name?" Hugo asked curiously.

"Oh I am sure my pupils call me many names." She briefly glanced at Hermione who seemed to remember all too well what some of the pupils used to call her. Minerva had never told Hermione how often she had heard her defend her old Transfiguration Professor. Being an Animagus had more advantages than people would believe. Hermione had always been very protective of her mentor, and although Minerva would never admit it to any living soul, it had done her good to know that her bright charge seemed to care about her like that.

"What names?" Hugo asked with interest.

The headmistress smiled at the boy that would one day step into the Great Hall to be sorted. He would find out soon enough. "Nothing that matters now, my lad. Can you think of a name you'd like to call me?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment and looked at his sister for support. They were siblings and dearly hated each other sometimes, but they had always known when they had to stick together.

"Grami," Rose stated confidently. "I'd like to call you grami if Hugo can say that."

"Grami?" the little boy asked unappreciative, expressing the thoughts of his mother and aunt as well.

"The first letters of Granny and Minerva: Grami," Rose explained in a tone that sounded very much like her mother's when trying to present quite simple facts to even more simple people.

Hugo's eyes went wide when he understood, and a bright smile erupted on his face. "Yes! That is like a secret writing."

Hermione patted her daughter's shoulder and enjoyed the blank expression on her mentor's face. The young woman didn't know what Minerva had had in mind, but it certainly looked like that wasn't it.

"That is a very thoughtful idea, but you already have two grannies," Minerva started after having overcome the shock. "It wouldn't be right to call me that, even if it is hidden in a name," she added with no small amount of regret.

Once again, Hugo silently asked his sister for support as she was far better at making a point to the adults.

"I don't think one can have too many grannies,and it wouldn't be right that you have no grandchildren at all. Who would have helped you decorate the tree if we hadn't been there?"

"Yes, you need us, Grami!" Hugo reasoned and placed his small hands on the old woman's shoulders to make her understand that they were perfectly right.

Now it was Minerva's turn to look for help, but when she looked at Hermione, she was met with a proud smile and a look that told her clearly that surrender would be her only option.

The last bit of Minerva's resistance was shattered into pieces when Hugo leaned forwards and pressed his forehead into hers, looking at her with sad eyes. "Don't you like us?"

"Of course, I do," Minerva whispered and took his small face between her hands, placing a kiss on the lad's forehead and pulling him into her arms. "Never doubt that," she said, looking at Rose to make sure she understood that she was included. "Grami is a wonderful name, and I'd be honoured if you called me that."

Sensing that Minerva was becoming slightly overwhelmed, Hermione decided to take action. "Now darlings, off to the kitchen with you. Dinner will be ready shortly, and we need to start setting the table."

Without any complaints, Hugo slid off Minerva's lap and followed his sister, who took the lead into the kitchen. Hermione watched them go before turning her attention to the old witch in the chair.

"Molly will be…"

"…delighted," Hermione finished the statement Minerva was going to make and stepped forwards to help her up. "She has quite a few grandchildren, and she knows quite well that love is the only thing in the world that doubles when shared."

Minerva was too stunned to reply and against her nature grabbed the young mother's offered hand to pull herself up.

"Are you all right? I don't want you to feel like you have to agree to them. Children at that age are painfully honest. Rose and Hugo would be happy to have you as an addition to their family, but I do understand if that is too much for you and explain it to them. You are in no way obliged to their wishes. I just want you to know that I wouldn't mind at all, and I doubt very much that Molly and Arthur or my parents would. It is your decision, although I must say I have to agree with Rose. It isn't fair that you have no grandchildren, and there are worse choices than the two of them."

"They are wonderful children, Hermione. You and Ronald have done a great job raising them, and although the offer and affection was quite unexpected, I would indeed be honored to serve as a third grandmother."

I thank all of you so much for the lovely reviews! I have to admit though that I find it rather rude to put my story to your list of favourites and never leave a comment...