"Hermione!" called Minerva, already pacing with worry. She had checked the library, Hermione's rooms, and her own but was unable to locate the young girl. Her bare feet padded on the wood floors, silent as her animagus, when suddenly the soft sounds of the piano her mother had once so lovingly stroked wafted into the room. Suddenly she realized that Hermione was wearing the locket, a small piano whose top opened to reveal the person closest to the wearer, that her own mother had given her. Feeling a little more than slightly unintelligent she headed for the room that held the baby grand.
"Hermione, it's time for dinner."
"Oh my. Sorry I guess I lost track of time. I was reading the sheet music. And then I started playing and it got the best of me."
"It's alright, there is no reason to be sorry, I understand completely. This room used to enthrall my mother for hours." A low rumble sounded from the girl's stomach announcing her hunger to the older woman. "Though, perhaps before you start again you should eat."
Hermione stood and reached for the older woman's hand. Minerva took the small hand into her own, entwining her elegant fingers with the slightly stubby digits of her charge. Gently she guided Hermione out of the nearly barren, stark white room and down the steps that lead to the kitchen and breakfast nook. She untangled their fingers with ease, pushing her softly towards the table to settle while she grabbed the plates.
Minerva easily put everything that was to be their dinner on the table with a little sweeping motion. Hermione's eyes lit up in a way that only younger children's could as she took in the dinner. Creamy mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, fresh cut fruit, tender chicken breasts, and soft rolls lay invitingly on her dish.
"Professor, this looks delicious. Thank you so much."
"Hermione, I think we should have that talk I told you about earlier now."
"Ok…?"
"You have, and I know this seems harsh, been for all intents and purposes, abandoned. Now for the moment I have temporary custody, but by summer we will have to have your living arrangements dealt with. I have three options for you to consider: first you are placed into wizard foster care, two that you go live at an orphanage, or three you come… live… with me."
"Professor-" started Hermione but she was cut off by Minerva.
"Please, Hermione, call me Minerva, at least while we aren't at school."
"Ok, Minerva then, I am inclined to go with the third option, but there are a lot of complications with that one."
"Hermione, tell me what you are so concerned about."
"Schooling for one, I mean you are my professor. What if someone started accusing you of playing favorites?" she asked before taking a large gulp of the Pepsi that had appeared with her food. "Next, I don't want to intrude into your life, I understand your need for privacy especially with your fame. Also, what about the press? They would have a field day if they found out the great Minerva McGonagall had adopted a person of my standing."
"Well, my status and position are two things I can't change. As to the first I doubt it will of much consequence to anyone, and the second as a teacher I have no reason to be ashamed of giving fair grades. The entirety of the press thing doesn't even have to happen if you don't want it to, so I don't think that will be a significant consequence."
"Give me a night to sleep on it, please. I just don't want to make the wrong decision."
Minerva smirked a little at that, fully aware that the child was trying not to submit to her intellect or logic, more out of pride than anything.