A/N: I own nothing, save for my small collection of words and phrases. It all belongs to the creative goddess of our generation, which sadly, really isn't me. The song belongs to Alanis Morissette.
Please don't kill me. I did label this as angst/romance. You're gonna get both, I promise!
This is un-beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.
=======================HG/MM=======================
I don't think you unworthy
I need a moment to deliberate
=======================HG/MM=======================
"Now that we've sorted out my past, I have a few questions for you. In much the same way I told you that you don't know me very well, I don't know very much about you. Oh, I know a bit about your background and your parents, but I'm looking more to the future." Minerva concluded her long speech. "We talked a little about your career at the end of your fifth year, and what you might like to do, but in the years since, I daresay those plans might have changed somewhat. What do you want to do once your NEWTs are over? What kind of work are you thinking about pursuing?"
Hermione was a little puzzled by the abrupt change, but went along with it, trying to follow Minerva's reasoning. "I'm not sure what field I want to end up working in, but to start, I would like to pursue a Mastery... or two." Minerva chuckled at the 'or two' addition. Only Hermione. "I don't think I would want to work for the Ministry. I know Kingsley is trying to clean it up, but in politics, one will always find those willing to cut corners for a few extra galleons." She paused for a moment, looking up at the stars pensively. "I could never be like Molly. I know she worked hard to raise her children, and it was good, honest, hard work, and she fought like the devil to protect her family through the wars, but I would hate it if I was stuck at home raising children, allowing my husband to 'bring home the bacon' – as the Muggle saying goes. It's a good vocation for those who have the temperament for it, but that will never be me. I want to make a difference, Minerva. I want to change the world, and maybe it's foolish to think that I can do that, but..."
"You can," Minerva interrupted. "There is nothing, and I mean nothing you can't achieve in your life if you truly want it. Oh, we say that to a lot of young people, trying to help give them a push to follow their dreams, but for most, it's a bit of a pipe-dream. Most will struggle along in their lives, never reaching quite as high as they truly want, but having the strength to keep trying. Some will try for a while before giving up and settling for a life they never wanted, but in which they can be content. Others give up before they've ever started. It's the rare person who sees what they want, goes after it with everything they are, and keeps at it until they've gotten it. You're one of the rare few, Hermione. You can go anywhere and do anything, so long as it's what you want.
"And that brings me to the reason I asked you this. Do you really see yourself able to get that Mastery … or two … and changing the world, all while tied to an old woman who runs a school? Don't get me wrong; I love what I do, and couldn't imagine ever doing anything else. I change the world, in my own way, by imparting knowledge and experience to the children and then sending them out to make their marks on the world. It's a subtle way of changing the world, but one that works for me. Staying here with me would kill you slowly, just as surely as that housewife scenario would, and I think you know it.
"It's a fine and perfect gift you've offered me, and I am truly honored that you think me worthy, but I cannot accept." Her voice broke, but she kept going, even as she knew they were both crying. "You need time, a thaisce. Time to get your education. Time to make your mark on our world. Time to do all the things you want; things you cannot do from here. We might both wish things were different, but I cannot make you settle for me over your dreams of changing things for the better. It would be a great disservice to you, me, and the rest of our kind."
Hermione was choking on her sobs at this point, knowing Minerva was right and wishing that she were anything but. She turned and buried her head in Minerva's shoulder, a hand raising to stroke her hair, a voice crooning softly, the words not registering, but the tone soothing.
"I don't want to leave you," her voice was muffled.
"And I don't want you to leave me," Minerva dropped a kiss to the top of Hermione's head, "but you must."
"I know."
They sat for several minutes, Minerva stroking through the soft brown curls while they rocked back and forth, both women crying to release their grief at knowing they had to part. Neither wanted to lose the moment.
=======================HG/MM=======================
Eventually, the moment did pass, and the two women released each other, stood, and looking at the other wistfully, had parted, each taking a different route back into the castle.
Exams began the next morning, and over the week of testing, Hermione far outclassed all of her fellow students. She and Minerva didn't avoid each other during this, but neither did they seek out each other's company. When forced into the same room, there was a gentle silence between them. All had been said, and things were resolved. The night of the Leaving Feast, Hermione quietly made her way to Minerva's chambers, and now released from the titles of student and teacher, the two women shared a final night of passion and loving, praising each other's bodies with their own. The next morning, Hermione left on the Hogwarts Express with her former classmates and the few close friends who had attended the last year with her.
She got a flat in London and started to pursue her first Mastery. She decided to start with Potions, due in part to her conversation with Snape's portrait, and also because the subject had always fascinated her. It was a far cry from Transfiguration, and the associated pain at having had to leave Minerva behind. One night, close to the end of her apprenticeship, she went to a Muggle nightclub to relax, and went home with a tall, thin woman with long black hair. The encounter satisfied her body's need for release, but left her soul as empty as it was beforehand.
It left her with a longing for some connection with the woman she loved, however, and so once her Potions Mastery was completed, she began the process of obtaining her Mastery in Transfiguration. Once or twice, over the course of this new apprenticeship, she went to other Muggle nightclubs and brought or went home with other women, similarly featured to the first. Each time, she was left marginally satisfied, knowing that there was something better out there, but lacking the ability to have what she really wanted, she would settle for the occasional one-night tryst with a stranger. If any of them ever heard her calling out a strange name as she came, they didn't mention it.
Upon receiving her second academic Mastery, Hermione decided "what the hell" and started on her third. Charms, she thought, would tie her interests from Potions and Transfiguration together nicely, giving her a well-rounded education so that she could do whatever she wanted. Minerva's words about changing the world were ever in the back of her mind.
=======================HG/MM=======================
May 2005 (Six years after Hermione left Hogwarts)
Minerva sat at her desk, trying to ignore the parchments strewn across her desk. Her efforts were failing spectacularly. Seven years after taking the post of Headmistress, she was loudly cursing the day she had ever taken it, cursing Albus bloody Dumbledore for getting himself killed, and cursing the fact that she was going to need to search for another employee. In his seven-year stint in the Transfiguration post, Professor Sutton was not doing an adequate job. He couldn't hold the attention of his students, and the education they were receiving as a result was substandard. Minerva had tried to put this off as long as possible, but the current OWL and NEWT scores showed scores that rivaled the ones received at the end of that failed year under Snape, and that was simply unacceptable. This was her subject, and she would not have any more students leave this institution without a proper education in it.
Of course, this meant having to try and find a replacement; a prospect that did not thrill her.
"Go ndéana an diabhal dréimire de cnámh do dhroma ag piocadh úll i ngairdín Ifrinn!"
"Is that meant for me, or for our poor Professor Sutton?" Albus asked, amused at the the turn of phrase used in the colorful Gaelic curse.
"At the moment, both of you. Damn you both. You for getting yourself killed and passing this god-forsaken job on to me, and him for being a piss-poor excuse for a teacher." She took off her glasses and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "We had students take their OWLs this year who were still unable to master even first-year Transfiguration spells. Matchsticks into needles, Albus! They couldn't do it! Merlin only knows how they ever made it out of first-year with these skills. If it had been just one student, you could push it off as one inept student, but there were ten of them. TEN!" Her frustration was quite evident in the way she sat in the chair, slouched over its edge, glasses dangling from one hand haphazardly. "I need a drink if I'm to deal with this tonight."
"If it's any comfort, my dear, at least you don't have to deal with finding a new and equally unimpressive Defense instructor every year now that Tom's curse on the post is gone."
She threw her hands up at this, then dropped them to the desk, lowering her head to lay on top of them. "Small mercies, Albus. Small mercies."
=======================HG/MM=======================
Two days later, Minerva was holding a Staff meeting in her office to discuss the situation with Transfiguration and Professor Sutton's upcoming departure from the school.
"Do any of you know of anyone qualified for the position? They need to not only be quite good at the subject, but also display at least a basic grasp of the concept of sharing that knowledge with students. You all know how difficult this job can be, and we need someone well-qualified to help clean up the mess Sutton's leaving behind him. I can help to a certain extent, with helping brush up the teaching skills, but sadly, I don't have time to help bring their Transfiguration up to snuff as well." She sounded tired and very stressed out, her voice not carrying half as well as it normally did.
The room was quiet as the teachers thought for a moment. Neville spoke up, "How about Hermione? She helped teach pretty well all the Gryffindors when she was a student, even some who were older than she was. She got her Transfiguration Mastery a couple of years back, so she has more than a basic understanding of both of your requirements."
Neville had grown into himself over the last several years. He had achieved his own Mastery in Herbology before returning to Hogwarts for an extended apprenticeship under Professor Sprout. She was preparing to retire, but wasn't quite ready to vacate the post yet. She and Neville had worked out a system by which for every two years he studied with her, he gained a year's students. Now, at the close of his fourth year back, he was ready to pick up the Second Year classes in the fall, along with the First Years he currently taught. Sprout was still firmly in charge of Years Three through Seven. At this rate, he wouldn't gain full control of the department until 2017. He and Sprout were both happy with this arrangement.
Minerva groaned inwardly. Of course he would bring up Hermione. She was hoping nobody would remember to mention her. They hadn't spoken since the night of her Leaving Feast. Minerva had kept track of her, of course, and had been glad to hear of both her Potions and Transfiguration Masteries. She was waiting to see when Hermione was planning to leave her higher education behind and begin to make that indelible mark on the world that she'd so wanted.
"While I agree that Miss Granger would make an admirable addition to the staff, I am not sure teaching was ever in her plans. Are there any more suggestions?" She steeled her voice against showing the strain that talking about Hermione still caused.
A couple more names were presented, and Minerva made notes to check out their credentials before attempting to contact them about an interview.
=======================HG/MM=======================
After the meeting, Minerva was back at her desk, going over the end-of-year budgets, and the process made her want to curse Dumbledore again for leaving her behind to deal with it all.
"Ah, Minerva, do you have a moment? I know the budgets are terribly difficult to pull yourself away from, knowing they're just going to be there later, but I have a question," Snape's voice drifted down from his portrait.
"Of course, Severus. You're right, the gods-damned budgets will be waiting later, but I welcome a moment of respite." She put down her quill and sat back in her chair, reaching up to massage her temples.
"I couldn't help but overhear the suggestions in the staff meeting earlier for your replacement teacher. You know as well as I that none of them are as remotely qualified as Miss Granger, but you dismissed that suggestion right away. Might I inquire as to why?"
His question shocked her, and she dropped her hands to the chair's arms and exhaled harshly. "Oh hell. If we're going to talk about Hermione, I think I'll need a cigarette." She was back to her old smoking habits; only one or two every once in a while, but seriously thinking about Hermione always made her want one.
The first drag served to calm her nerves somewhat, and she slouched back into her chair before looking back up at Snape's portrait. "Why did I dismiss the idea, Severus? Before she left, she said she wanted to go out and make her mark, to change the world. Neither of us wanted her tied to me here at the school, and that hasn't changed. Why on earth would I ask her to come back now?" She took another long drag from the cigarette and tossed the rest into the fire.
"I think you'll find that while Miss Granger has certainly gone after her higher education with gusto, she is missing part of what always made her so extraordinary. From what I hear in the Portrait gossip circles, she's not doing well. She may welcome the change that comes with teaching a bunch of rotten dunderheads."
Pretending not to hear the rest of his advice, she twitched her lips into a small smile and teased, "Gossip circles, Severus? I would have thought them beneath you. You were never one for small talk. It's positively scandalous!"
His image in the portrait huffed and left the frame quickly, leaving Minerva to chuckle to herself at the dig. Despite their friendship, both before and after his death, she always had fun making jokes at his expense.
The smile melted off her face, as she started thinking about Hermione, musing aloud, "Not doing well, he said. Missing something. ...I wonder."
She picked up her quill and a fresh sheet of parchment and began drafting a letter.
=======================HG/MM=======================
All the letters she sent to find out about Hermione were returned to her with the same praises and adoration. Yes, she had been a perfect student. A little sad, perhaps, but seemingly desperate to learn as much and as quickly as she could. Yes, full Masteries in Potions and Transfiguration, with a Charms Mastery to be completed within the next month. Yes, she was highly qualified for any job she wanted, but would be very well-suited to teach.
A little worried over the repeated comments regarding Hermione's sadness, Minerva considered sending a letter asking if she was interested in the position, but she remembered the look on Hermione's face as she said she wanted to do something with herself; wanted to be more; wanted to change the world. She couldn't ask her to give up on her dreams yet. She wouldn't.
Sighing, she set aside the sheaf of correspondence pertaining to Hermione, and went back to searching through recommendations for the other potential applicants.
=======================HG/MM=======================
Hermione walked to the Muggle pub, tired but elated. She had just received notification that her third apprenticeship was officially complete, making her one of only about fifteen people in the world to hold three full Masteries. Hermione Granger, Potions Mistress, Transfiguration Mistress, Charms Mistress. She had always excelled at learning, and had been an excellent student throughout all of her apprenticeships, but there were no other subjects in which she was interested enough to pursue her fourth, although completing another would reduce the pool of her peers from fifteen to roughly six. Arithmancy had always held a strange allure, but in truth, six years of intensive learning on the heels of the war with Voldemort had her feeling a little burned out. Her future was entirely in her hands, and she had no idea what she wanted to do with it.
She was tired of worrying about it all, and had set up to meet a few of her very closest friends. She had invited Harry and Ginny, Neville and Hannah, George and Angelina, Luna, and Ron. She desperately wished she could have invited one other, but knew the invitation would have been refused. Thinking about Minerva still put her on edge, and a rush of need washed over her body. Maybe if she got smashed enough, she'd try to take someone home tonight. Whoever she was still wouldn't be who she truly wanted, but sometimes it was almost enough just to be touched by someone, even if it was the wrong someone.
Trying to shed her maudlin thoughts, she plastered a big smile on her face, allowing the happiness over her accomplishment to take back over, and greeted her friends.
=======================HG/MM=======================
A couple hours later, she was just about through her buzz phase, and on her way to being as plastered as she wanted to be, as she had to be if she was going to try and fill that physical need that was nagging at her.
Harry and Ginny had already left, saying their time with the babysitter was up. George and Angelina had just made their own good-byes, heading out so they could get up in time to open the shop the next morning. Ron was passed out on the table, not having a great tolerance for alcohol. Hannah looked as though she was about at the same stage as Hermione was; owning the Leaky Cauldron had greatly increased her own ability to drink others under the table. Neville sat between the two witches on the bench seat, sipping on some fruity concoction, trying not to drink too much so he could ensure the others all got home safely. His left hand was on Hannah's back, mindlessly caressing his fiancée, while his right arm was loosely draped on the back of the bench around Hermione. He was relaxed and enjoying his night out with friends away from the stresses of teaching.
Luna was staring intently at something in the corner of the ceiling, as though she saw what others couldn't, as was normally the case. Muttering something about a chizpurfle, she got up and walked away, toward the corner.
"Did she say chizpurfle? That explains the flickering lights, I suppose," Neville noted.
"Hm? Yeah, I guess you're right. She's rarely wrong when it comes to wee beasties and such," Hermione replied, leaning back into the warmth of her friend. She was calculating how many more drinks it would take to get her to the required drunken state, and her eyes were scanning the room's occupants for potential partners for the night.
"So what's next, Hermione? Three masteries in six years is tough. I barely got through my first level in two years, and you've gotten three levels in each of the three in two years each. I can't imagine there's a job out there you can't do at this point."
She thought for a moment before answering honestly, "I don't know, Nev. It's almost as though there are too many options now. I know the things I don't want to do, but as far as knowing what I do want, it's too hard to choose. I've been flooded with job offers ever since I finished my first Mastery, and now that I have three? It'll only get worse. I had thoughts of trying for another, just to put it off a little longer, but I don't think I could take it right now. I'm so tired." She laughed lightly and rested her head back against Neville's arm. "Sometimes I miss the simplicity of Hogwarts. Sure, we had our stresses, and Voldemort's rising didn't exactly give us a standard educational career, but the castle was comforting and safe." She shrugged. "It was home. I envy you taking your time through the other two Mastery levels and getting to be there."
"So come back. Teach. They just had to fire Sutton, and they'll need someone able to whip all the students into shape. If anyone can do it, Hermione, it's you. I mentioned the idea to McGonagall a while back, but she said she didn't think you would want to teach. If you want to come back to Hogwarts, though, I'm sure they'd hire you."
She blinked incredulously. "Teach? I … never thought about it before." The wheels in her head started turning, all of them wheeling around three words. Teach. Hogwarts. Minerva. Looking at Neville and Hannah, she could see that teachers were allowed to have personal relationships while on staff, and though she had never heard of or seen proof of two teachers – or one teacher and the Headmaster/Headmistress – having a romantic relationship, it certainly wouldn't be as controversial as the student-teacher relationship they had previously fought against.
The Muggles were even beginning to take strides toward rights for those in same-sex relationships, and with all the time she had invested in her academic career, Hermione had never thought to inquire about the Wizarding world's stance on the subject. This thought pattern set off an oft-used light bulb in Hermione's head: research.
"Well, you should. Think about it, I mean. It'd be great to have someone else my age around." Neville reached with his free left hand to finish his drink. "Please, Hermione? Roll it around in that big brain of yours for a while." He leaned over to kiss the top of her head, squeezing her shoulder in a light hug before pulling away. "For now, though, I think it's time I get mister sleepy-head home and then do the same for Hannah and me. It was great to see you, Hermione. Congratulations again." He stood and eased between Hannah and the table, leaning down to give her a quick kiss before grabbing Ron by the arm. "Ennervate," he whispered, pointing his wand slyly toward his friend.
Ron woke with a jerk, babbling incoherently about spiders. "Come on, mate, let's get you home."
"Alright," Ron slurred, "Bye 'Mione, Hannah." He belched loudly, causing Hannah and Hermione to grimace. They both wished him good night and watched as he stumbled out with Neville. A muted crack later, Hermione knew Neville had safely disapparated to get Ron back home.
"Guess I'll go take care of the tab so we can leave when Nev gets back." Hannah stood and headed for the bar to settle up for the night, having already told Hermione they'd cover her drinks as a gift for her accomplishment.
Luna came back, slouching into the seat Neville had vacated next to Hermione. "Took care of that for them. The Muggles would never have been able to keep their lights working with this guy around." She pulled a conjured vial from her pocket, containing the chizpurfle she'd captured, and showed it to Hermione.
"Thanks, Luna. That was incredibly nice of you. I probably wouldn't have even noticed it."
"It's what I do." Luna playfully nudged Hermione with her shoulder. "Are you going to be okay to make it home? You've had quite a bit to drink tonight."
Hermione laughed. "Oh, I'm not nearly as drunk as I will be later. I have another stop to make after this, but I'll make it home fine, thanks. There's a Candy Bar calling my name." It wasn't too far to the popular lesbian night club, and Hermione knew she would be able to find someone there to help her out for the night. She thought the reference too vague for Luna to pick up on, and never expected the next words that came out of the blonde witch's mouth.
"Oh, I go there from time to time myself, although it's not my favorite."
"You go … to the Candy Bar?" Hermione's face was incredulous, staring at Luna with eyes wide open.
Luna laughed, a sound like musical notes drifting through the crowd. "Hermione, surely you didn't think you were the only witch in the world who likes other witches, did you? Sure, I like men, but I like women just as much."
Hermione's jaw dropped another half inch at this revelation.
"Of course, you're Muggle-born so you probably wouldn't know. The Muggles have always been so closed off about the subject. It's not terribly common, and it's not talked about much, but it's out there in the Wizarding world just as much as in the Muggle one. Magic or not, we're all just human beings."
Those wheels in Hermione's head were whirring around at a frenzied pace at this new information.
"So if there was somebody you were interested in; a certain Witch, perhaps, I don't think anyone would have a problem with that aspect of it." Luna's hand reached to squeeze Hermione's knee and she leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. "I don't know who she is, but it's clear, at least to me, that you've been pining for someone for a very long time now. Do something about it, Hermione. Be happy. Even for the Magical population, life's too short to go through alone."
She stood up and walked away, leaving a stunned Hermione thinking about the implications of what she'd said. Hermione sat there for several minutes and then reached for the rest of her drink, slamming it back before getting up to head back to her flat. The conversations with Neville and Luna had left her in research mode, the needs of her body forgotten. Why settle for less than half of what you want when the true object of your desire lies within your grasp?
=======================HG/MM=======================
A week passed, Hermione frantically searching through the intricacies of Wizarding law as it pertains to same-sex relationships and those between members of Hogwarts staff. She had exhausted every source she could find, and had come to a startling conclusion: there were no impediments. The law never made any direct allowances for those seeking a homosexual partnership, but never made any laws restricting it, either. There were no rules in the Hogwarts bylaws that said that two members of staff couldn't be together. After all, the esteemed Founders had been in relationships, and could not foresee a situation where there would be a need to forbid it for future generations. There was nothing stopping Hermione from being with Minerva if that's what they both wanted. Her heart was lighter-than-air at the thought of finally being free to be with the woman she loved, and with Neville's endorsement to seek a teaching position ringing in her head, Hermione sat down to write a letter asking for an interview.
=======================HG/MM=======================
Minerva was surprised to get Hermione's application, but having already ascertained her qualifications, sent a quick response, granting an interview for the following day.
She spent the rest of the day with her heart pounding, unable to think of anything but the fact that tomorrow, she would be seeing Hermione for the first time in six years. She didn't know what to make of it; didn't know what to expect. The old want was gnawing at her all day, not wanting to allow herself to hope, but doing so desperately.
Did this mean what she thought it meant, or was it just a request for a job interview?
=======================HG/MM=======================
The next morning, Hermione stood at the great gates of Hogwarts, gazing through its bars out over the grounds. It was quiet and peaceful, the students having departed for home the week before. Hermione reached a hand up to touch the crest in the center of the gate and felt a wave of familiar magic rush over her body. The gates swung open silently, welcoming her back onto the hallowed grounds of her beloved school.
She picked her way up the path, walking slowly and appreciating how little things seemed to have changed. She looked to one side and could almost see a trail leading to where she and Minerva had had their last heart-to-heart on the edge of the Quidditch pitch. The pain was a little better after six years, but there was still a reminder that the largest and best part of her heart had been left behind when she left.
The great doors leading into the castle were open, and she walked through, only to see Minerva in full Headmistress persona, standing stiffly with her hands clasped in front of her, her square-framed glasses sitting low on her nose, not quite framing the brilliantly green eyes that had never left her mind. Her breath hitched, and her heart flip-flopped in her chest, stopping Hermione in her tracks as she drank in the sight of the woman she had never stopped loving.
Minerva hadn't expected a reaction like this. Her pulse was racing, and were her hands not clasped so tightly in front of her, they would be shaking like a leaf. Hermione was even more beautiful at twenty-five than she'd been at nineteen, and she could feel the need between them. She closed her eyes for a moment, to regain control, and said in greeting, "Miss Granger, how nice to see you."
The formal words helped Hermione calm down a little, but she was confused. Those were Headmistress words, stiff and formal, but they were in Minerva's voice; that soft and lilting cadence she had only heard during their conversations at the end of her final year. Shaking her head to clear those thoughts, she replied, "Headmistress. The pleasure's all mine." She flashed a bright smile at Minerva, hoping to throw her off, trying to gauge the mood of the older woman. There, a small twitch of her lip. Minerva was definitely in residence, but was trying to cover it up with the Headmistress. We'll see what I can do about that.
"Why don't you follow me, and we'll get this underway." Minerva had almost lost control when Hermione had smiled so brilliantly. She hoped the other woman hadn't noticed. She needed to keep the Headmistress in control, at least through the interview. After that, who knew?
"Of course," Hermione said, waving one arm with a flourish, "where you lead, I shall follow."
Minerva had already turned and started walking, and at this comment, she almost missed a step. Keeping her eyes and face forward, she hid the unmistakable twitch of her mouth and kept walking as though nothing had happened.
Hermione grinned as she saw Minerva stumble and recover. This was going to be easier than she thought. She had told Minerva years ago that she knew who and what she wanted and would do everything in her power to make the woman realize it, and she was planning on keeping that promise today.
The silence was palpable as they walked, not toward the Head Office, but instead toward the Transfiguration office. There were no portraits in there, and Minerva wanted this time with Hermione alone, with none of the portraits watching.
=======================HG/MM=======================
Hermione had breezed her way through the interview, as both of them had fully expected, and was signing the contract that would bind her as a teacher at the most prestigious school for Magic the world had ever known. She managed to keep herself professional throughout the interview, but as official business was over with, it was time to get personal.
Leaning back in her chair, she watched as Minerva affixed her seal to the contract and banished it to her own office to file later.
"How have you been, Minerva? It's been a long time." Her tone was light, and both could tell that this was no longer a conversation held between Headmistress and Professor, but rather one between Minerva and Hermione.
"It has been. Too long. I am quite well, thank you." Minerva wanted to broach the more personal subject, but was afraid to. She was afraid that Hermione had found someone else in six years. She was afraid she hadn't. She was afraid Hermione had simply changed her mind; that her heart no longer dwelt with her own. For all her outward confidence, she was inwardly as insecure as someone her current students' age. "And yourself? You seem to have done well since we last spoke." Her voice broke a little over the last word. There hadn't been much speaking the last time they saw each other.
"Yes, I'm doing quite well also." Her nerves were ripping her stomach to shreds. She couldn't wait any longer; she had to know. "Minerva, I have some things to say, and as you once asked me, I need you to be patient enough to listen. Is that," she swallowed past the lump in her throat, "acceptable?"
Green eyes started to shine with unshed tears. Minerva thought this was going to be the end of her hopes. "I … yes. You let me get my story out; I could do no less than to allow you to do the same."
Hermione stood, and placing her arms behind her back, began pacing in front of the desk. "Okay. So, I've done some research recently. I've dug into the depths of Wizarding law and Hogwarts rules and bylaws. I was trying to find some reason why this couldn't work. I tried very hard, Minerva, and you know me and my research; it was exhaustive, and I couldn't find a thing. There are no laws against it; none."
Watching Hermione pace and listening to her words, Minerva felt hope begin to swell in her chest. Could she be talking about …? Gods, please.
"There are no barriers, Minerva, except," Hermione stopped pacing and dropped her arms to her sides, clenching her fists together, "for you." Her eye twitched nervously as she looked at the floor, unwilling to see what was sure to be rejection on Minerva's face as the last of her speech spilled from her mouth. "I still love you; if possible my feelings are now even stronger than they were back then. I still want to be with you. I will fight for you to the end of time, against anyone and anything that tries to come between us, but I won't," she swallowed hard again, losing her battle against shedding tears, "fight you. If you don't want me, if you don't want to be with me, then I'll stop right here, and we'll never speak of it again. Do you?"
With her eyes closed, Hermione hadn't seen Minerva rise and come to stand in front of her. Minerva pressed one hand to Hermione's cheek, raising her head so they were at eye-level. Tear-filled brown eyes fluttered open to meet the luminescent green ones in front of her, filled with tears of their own.
"A thaisce, how could I not want you? How could I not want to be with you? How could you ever conceive of me not wanting you? You are everything, everything I have ever wanted." She leaned forward, resting their foreheads together. "You are everything I need. Tá mo chroí istigh ionat, Hermione, and always has been."
At this admission, Hermione tilted her face up toward Minerva's, shifting just to one side to avoid bumping noses, and brought their lips together in a sweet, simple kiss. Her arms wound around Minerva's waist, and felt as Minerva's arm did the same, the other still resting on her cheek. They reveled in the softness of their lips melded together for a minute, then Hermione deepened the kiss, requesting entry to her lover's mouth by nipping at the bottom lip, and receiving permission when Minerva opened her mouth. Their tongues met in an electric touch, caressing each other with increasing pressure as the passion rose between them. Minerva pulled back and began placing tender kisses down along Hermione's jaw before laving a trail down her neck.
Both women were breathing hard at this point, and Hermione, enjoying the treatment, moaned quietly. "You know, you're going to have to tell me what you just said at some point. As much as I love you, I don't speak Gaelic." She gasped as Minerva's mouth pulled at the pulse point, leaving the spot red with an impending love bite.
"Tá mo chroí istigh ionat," she whispered, "My heart is within you."
"And mine is with you."
Fin.
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Well, there it is. I'm sure you guys wanted more, but the little half piece of smut I opened with is about as much as I can give you. I'm not good at writing that kind of thing. I hope you have all enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Thank you to everyone for all the favorites, follows, and especially for the reviews. (I'll gladly take as many more reviews as you all want to give me. Every one I get lifts my spirits.)
* Go ndéana an diabhal dréimire de cnámh do dhroma ag piocadh úll i ngairdín Ifrinn! - "May the devil make a ladder of your bones and pluck apples from the garden of hell." Has a bit more punch than just "go to hell" or "god damn you" doesn't it? I love the true Gaelic curses.
* Chizpurfle – From Fantastic Beasts. Stated to be a small parasite who infests and eats magical items. They will eat through a wand to devour its core, but if there is a lack of magical items around, they will attack electrical items, destroying them from within. For more information, see the book.