The next day was hell for both women. All during class, Minerva was distracted by the idea of talking to Hermione, something that she couldn't afford to be with a class full of first years. But even one of the desks catching fire wasn't enough to pull her from her thoughts for too long. Thankfully, it wasn't a double lesson with them, however the next one was. She wasn't all that worried about the next class, what with it being seventh years, but she knew with Hermione sitting in front of her desk, she would barely be able to concentrate. Luckily it was the last lesson of the day. She needed to talk to the girl. She needed to fix things between them, before it became too much for her to handle.
Sighing, she assigned that nights homework, a foot long essay on the basics of Transfiguration and dismissed the class. With a series of quick flicks, she cleared up the mess left behind by the first years and started writing on the back board. It wasn't long before she heard the tell-tale signs of the students coming into class. Turning around, she looked over the class, noticing straight away the empty chair to the right. Waiting a few moments more, she was rewarded with the sight of the bushy haired girl jogging into class, eyes locked on the floor. Hurt by the girls avoidance of meeting her eye, Minerva turned around and started the lesson. It was going to be a long afternoon.
She had planned on asking Hermione to stay back after class was finished, but the moment she said 'Dismissed', the girl was gone, once again leaving behind a hurting woman and an annoyed friend. Glancing up at his professor, Harry frowned at the sad look she wore and shook his head at his friends actions, wanting nothing more than to knock some sense into her. Gathering the rest of his gear, he walked out of the classroom, calling over his shoulder.
"Have a relaxing evening Professor."
The next day went much the same as the one before, even ending the same with Harry wishing her a relaxing afternoon. If she wasn't so focused on the ache in her chest from the knowledge of Hermione avoiding her, she would have heard the concern in her young students' voice each time he spoke to her.
The third day was the last straw for both Harry and Minerva.
Although seventh years was the first class of the day for Minerva, she had hoped that Hermione would at least acknowledge her, but when she didn't even so much as look at her when she spoke to her, Minerva made a decision.
And so did Harry.
That afternoon, Minerva sat down at her desk and wrote a short letter in her well known emerald green ink. Giving it a few moments to dry, she cleared up the small mess on her desk and put away her quill and ink. Looking down at the letter, she sighed and rolled it up, quickly tying it to the leg of Hedwig. She had no idea why the beautiful snow owl had started sitting with her in the afternoons, but she was glad for it now.
"Please take this to Hermione." She whispered, carefully running her fingers over the soft feathers.
With a quiet hoot, the white owl took off.
Watching her, Minerva crossed her arms and sighed, leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the window. She hoped she had made the right decision.
Hermione sat in her room reading Hogwarts: A History for the hundredth time, but none of the words that she knew by heart were sinking in. For the first time in a long time, Hermione found she couldn't focus on what she was reading. Absentmindedly flipping to the next chapter, Hermione's eyes filled with tears. In the middle of the page was a portrait of Minerva. Slamming the book closed, she almost missed the tapping on the window beside her bed. Wiping at her eyes, she opened it, allowing Hedwig entry.
Smiling at the owl, she quickly untied letter from the outstretched leg and gave her a treat before she flew back out. Clicking shut the window, Hermione looked down at the rolled up parchment with a frown. Shrugging, she opened and read over the short correspondence, instantly feeling her heart start hammering in her chest at the familiar curving writing.
Miss Granger,
I realize that my actions from the other day have made you uncomfortable when in my presence and as such; I would be more than willing to allow someone to come in and teach your class if you would prefer.
I am deeply sorry Hermione.
Minerva McGonagall.
Scrunching up the letter, Hermione spun around and ran down stairs in search of Harry.
She found him in the room of requirement practising his spells for charms.
"She's considering having someone else teach our class!" She yelled, surprising Harry.
Jumping, Harry spun around and frowned. "Who?"
"Who?" Hermione screeched indignantly, "Minerva!"
Nodding Harry, summoned a couch for them to sit on. "Ah. Why?"
"Because she thinks I'm 'uncomfortable' in her presence." She explained, pacing in front of her friend.
"Are you?"
"No!"
"Then why don't you look at her in class when you answer or when tries to get your attention when walking past?"
"I-I-"
"Hermione, you've hurt her with your avoidance."
"I haven't be-"
"You've shown up just before the bell for each class and run out the moment you can, for three days straight. You've hardly left your room or here, and you make sure you're never on your own when there is a possibility that you could run into her."
Hermione sighed and fell down into her spot beside Harry. "What do I do? I don't want her to stop teaching us."
"Go and talk to her. She's a reasonable woman Hermione, she'll listen to you."