Hermione jammed all of her books in her bag as the rest of the class all but bolted from the room. After talking to Harry for hours the day before, she had decided that avoiding her Professor was not the right thing to do. She had also decided to thank her for helping her, the only problem with that was how she was going to go about it. At first she had thought that just saying thank you would be enough, but then Harry, enjoying every minute of her fretting, has suggested she give her something. A flower. So here she was, sitting back after the last class of the day, waiting until the older witch turned away from cleaning the board. She didn't have to wait long.
"Oh, Miss Granger, what are you still doing here?" She asked, stacking up the messy pile of parchment on her desk.
Standing up, Hermione shouldered her bag and walked to stand in front of the large desk. "I just wanted to thank you for helping me yesterday."
At the mention of yesterday, the older woman relaxed slightly, a small smile curving at her lips. "There's no need to do that. I'm just glad that you're okay."
Feeling the blood rush into her cheeks, Hermione glanced down at her shoes. "Yes well," She cleared her throat, "Thank you." She said, holding out the small rose she had held behind her back.
Looking at the flower bemused, Minerva carefully took it from her students grasp, mindful of the sharp thorns. "It's lovely." She said, smiling slightly.
Hermione nodded. "Yes."
The pair fell into an awkward silence, both not knowing what to say.
"Well I suppose-"
"Miss Granger-"
They both started, talking over the other. Laughing, Hermione shook her head and gestured for the older witch to go first.
"Would you care to join me for some tea?" She asked, forcing herself to look her student in the eye.
Blinking quickly in surprise, Hermione smiled. "I would love to Professor."
Giving a small smile in return, Minerva picked up the pile of papers from her desk. "Follow me then." She said before turning around and entering her office.
Following her, Hermione watched her as she walked, her eyes falling to follow the slight sway of the ebony haired witch's hips. Biting her lip, she forced herself to look up and instantly started blushing. She hadn't realized there was a mirror on the back wall. Minerva had seen her checking her out. 'She definitely knows now!' Her mind screamed, causing the blush to deepen.
What she didn't realize was, Minerva hadn't seen her, but was looking her over in the reflection. The smile Hermione had seen in the mirror was not because she had been caught, but because Minerva thought she looked so adorable with rose stained cheeks. Shaking her head, Minerva placed her stack of essays on her desk and opened the door off to the side, gesturing for Hermione to go in first. Taking advantage of the situation, Minerva took a deep breath to calm her hammering heart before following behind the girl. As they came to the living room of her private quarters, Minerva passed her, gesturing for her to take a seat.
"I'll just be a moment." She said before disappearing through another door.
Doing as told, Hermione sat down on the couch closest to the door, after dropping her bag and removing her school robe. As she got comfortable in the corner of the small sofa, Minerva walked back out with a tray in her hands. But what caught Hermione's notice, the broach that usually held the woman's robes closed, was not there, allowing the two parts of the thick robe to fall open, revealing her high neck black dress. It was a lot tighter than her robes made you believe. Fighting off another blush, Hermione looked into the fire as her professor poured a cup of tea.
"Here you go dear."
'Again with the dear.' The voice in the back of her mind commented as she took the cup held out to her. "Thank you." She smiled.
Sitting down beside the girl, Minerva leant back and sipped her tea. "Now tell me dear, what do plan on doing after Hogwarts?"
Sometime later, Hermione leaned back against the armrest laughing as Minerva told her about her first year of teaching. Not long after telling her professor about her wish to either become a healer or a teacher, Hermione had turned it around and asked her how she became a teacher. Although she had originally wanted to work for the Ministry, she had found that it was not holding her interest, and when she was offered the job of Transfiguration Professor, she leapt at the chance. Now she had Hermione laughing as she told her about the first lesson she taught.
"I was barely out of school myself, so most of the upper grades knew me." She said, shaking her head. "If only I had taken the job a few years later, I swear this wouldn't have happened. The class was Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs and oh they were horrible." She groaned. "One of the Hufflepuffs had heard some stories about me, and they thought it was a brilliant idea to prank me. One moment I was demonstrating human transfiguration, and the next, I found myself rubbing up against one of the students legs!" She shook her head. "They had somehow covered their friends' clothes in catnip."
"That must have been mortifying!" Hermione cried.
"It gets worse," She laughed, "That night at dinner, the same student managed to convince an elf to put it in my dinner, knowing it was my turn to do the rounds of the castle that night."
Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud.
Minerva saw this and touched her lightly on the leg with a knowing smile. "Oh go ahead and laugh dear, this was long ago. I can see the humour in it now."
Dropping her hands, Hermione laughed at the image in her head. Beside her, Minerva watched her with a smile. It was a wonderful sight to see. After the war, Hermione rarely laughed anymore. To know that she was the cause of her laughter, even if it was at her own expense, made Minerva proud.
Wiping at the tears on her cheeks, Hermione sat forward. "So what happened?"
Leaning forward, Minerva picked up the tea pot with a small frown. "You know, I don't remember anything from that night. All I know is I woke up the next morning extremely sore. I was later told that I had been seen running up and down the corridors in my cat form chasing something that only I could see." Standing, she looked at the laughing student again. "I'll be right back dear, we're out of tea."
Nodding, Hermione wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks and looked around her for the first time. Along the mantle were photos of all sizes. Standing up, she looked at them closely, noting that a lot of them were from Minerva's school years, and a few from her years as a teacher. The one that caught her attention though was the last one. In it, a younger Minerva stood with her arm wrapped around the shoulders of a very pregnant woman. So wrapped up in studying the photo, she didn't hear the woman walk back into the room, or place the pot on the table. It wasn't until she spoke from directly behind her that she knew she was there.
"That's Andromeda, she was the one who pranked me." She said softly, causing the young woman to jump. Chuckling, Minerva gently touched the girls back. "To this day, she refuses to tell me how she got away with it." She said with a smile, looking at the photo.
Hermione turned around with a small frown. "You didn't know who it was when it happened?"
Minerva shook her head. "I didn't find out until the day that photo was taken." She answered, turning to look down at the girl, only to freeze when she realised how close they stood.
The pair looked at each other, neither willing to move in case they broke the moment. Slowly, Minerva raised her hand to touch the smooth skin of Hermione's cheek. The touch was barely there, but it felt as if she had just been burned. Taking a shaky breath, Hermione licked her lips and leant forward while sliding her hands under the green robes to rest of the slight swell of hips.
Glancing down at the pale pink lips, Minerva copied her movement and licked her own suddenly dry lips. "Hermione…" She whispered, looking back up into the deep brown eyes that had been haunting her dreams since her fourth year.
Looking up, Hermione swallowed before returning her gaze to the lips in front of her, wanting nothing more to lean in and close that last bit of space between them and find out what they felt like. Without even realising it, she did just that. At first it was gentle, nothing more than just a touching of lips, but then she grew impatient and deepened it. She swept her tongue along the thin lips, begging for entrance. It was granted with a moan. Pulses raced. Tongues duelled for dominance. Hands pulled at clothes, bringing each other closer. Lungs complained from lack of oxygen. And yet, they still kissed.
The only reason Hermione pulled back was because she had started to feel light headed. As she tried to catch her breath, she opened her eyes. No longer was Minerva's hair in a neat bun, but down in a tangled mess from her hands. She didn't even remember moving her hands. Chest heaving, she watched as Minerva leant in again, only to back up when what they were doing finally sunk in. Stepping back, she snatched up her back pack and ran, leaving behind a confused and hurt woman.