It wasn't long before Minerva started to stir, waking Hermione. It was clear that Minerva's memories were raising nightmares and Hermione shook Minerva, trying to wake her. Minerva moved away, but before she could ask after her, Minerva had backed into the corner and was pointing her wand at Hermione. She moved very slowly to a standing position and held out her hands in surrender.
She glanced to the sideboard by the door. Her wand lay there, almost aching to come to her aid. If Minerva attacked her then she would be unable to defend herself without it, and there was very little chance of her reaching it while Minerva was in this state. For now, Hermione decided that talking Minerva down would be the way to go.
"Minerva? You're at home. You're safe and you are home Min. There is nothing that can hurt you here. Nothing. The war is over Min."
"I'm so sorry for what we did to you!" Minerva sobbed. "Do not hurt her, she is innocent. She is pure."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up her forehead. She had no idea that Minerva had those thoughts about her. Hermione's heart fluttered in a way she wasn't accustomed to, but the fear she felt looking down Minerva's wand was overwhelming.
"Min, it is me. I'm here with you. I'm Hermione," she swallowed. "Your Hermione."
"A trick," Minerva growled, straightening her stance. Hermione saw in an instant why the whole world feared Minerva McGonagall. "Hermione does not know she is mine."
"MINERVA!"
Hermione's shout stirred Minerva, but not in the way she was expecting. Had Hermione not known Minerva as well as she did, she'd have missed the small twitch of her face before she sent off a wordless spell; had she not known Minerva as well as she did, Hermione would have died in that moment. She dived for her wand, grabbing it with her fingertips as Minerva' spell grazed her shoulder.
She rolled, extending her own arm as she came to a stop on one knee. Her wand pointed at Minerva, she now felt equal, until she looked up at Minerva and saw her face a picture of horror.
"Merlin, what have I done?"
"Don't worry," Hermione said, getting to her feet. "Not the first time."
"Hermione," Minerva said, taking a step forward, but stopping. "I've hurt you."
Hermione looked down, testing her fingers and toes until the adrenaline wore off and her shoulder started to throb.
"Oh."
It wasn't quite as bad as when Ron splinched his shoulder, but she could see that it was quite bad. Hermione's skin and shirt seemed to have melded together, leaving a big open wound with shirt melted around the outsides.
"Merlin Hermione, sit down." Minerva went pale again, but snapped into action, sitting Hermione down and disappearing at a run - without cane, Hermione noticed - before returning with a first aid kit.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, on the verge of tears.
"Don't be," Hermione said, and meant it. "Like I said, it's not the first time, and I doubt it will be the last. It's definitely not the worst I've ever had either. You weren't awake Min, it's okay."
"It's not," Minerva said, scrabbling through the bottles of potions within the first aid kit.
"Min?" Hermione said, stopping Minerva by taking both of her hands in her own. "It's okay. You were asleep."
"I wish Poppy was here."
"I trust you."
Minerva took a deep breath and nodded. They sat in silence until Minerva had applied the dose of potion. They watched as it bubbled and hissed. Hermione grimaced as the pain started to throb without mercy.
"Hermione, it's," Minerva seemed lost for words. "Your shirt is stuck to the wound. I," she stammered. "You." Minerva struggled for control. "You need to remove your shirt."
Hermione laughed, dispelling some of the tension from the air.
"Minerva, you should have just said something if you wanted to see me naked. You didn't need to hex me!"
Minerva giggled, then laughed, falling beside Hermione on the sofa and joining in Hermione's laughter until they both had tears in their eyes.
"I find myself unable to prevent myself from spilling all of my secrets before you," Minerva said quietly as they fell into silence. "Like the fact that I think that you are an extraordinarily beautiful woman, and I cannot help but be drawn to you."
"You aren't just saying that because I'm about to take my top off?"
Minerva snorted and cupped Hermione's smiling face.
"You are as dear," she paused, "dearer to me than anyone has ever been."
"I find, if I am honest, that my sentiments match yours perfectly," Hermione smiled wickedly. "And I shall remove my shirt for you with no worries at all about impropriety."
The tension built, but it was a different sort of tension. Hermione's pain was almost dwarfed by the prickling skin and the excited butterflies in her stomach.
"This is silly," Minerva suddenly said. "Miss -"
"Don't you dare!" Hermione hissed. "You cannot do that if you wish to explore this. You cannot ever call me that. We're past that, way beyond it. I am your Hermione and you are my Minerva. The names we had before, are no more. Let's stick to what we know now."
"Right," Minerva said decisively. "In that case, if you would disrobe Hermione, I will treat your shoulder, and if you really do forgive me, join me in my bedroom," she paused with a mischievous smile on her face. "To sleep."
"I would love to," Hermione said, trying to keep a straight face. "You're going to have to help me though," she gestured to her shirt front. "I am going to struggle."
She wasn't even trying to tease Minerva. She was wearing a turtleneck, which were difficult to remove at the best of times, let alone with only one arm. Eventually, with much blushing and a few muttered curse words from Minerva, they managed to get the shirt off her middle and left arm.
"Min, just cut it. I'm not at all attached to it, and honestly, it hurts to wear it like this. I know you're not supposed to pull it off a burn, but it's pulling anyway. So just cut the sleeve and we'll go from there."
Minerva disappeared and came back with a pair of scissors, apparently not daring to use a severing charm. She cut gently around the wound. It looked as bad as it felt but Hermione needed Minerva to do her best, so she tried to hide how she really felt. After they had removed the top, Hermione was left with a starburst of shirt and a deep burn in her arm.
"Do you have any Essence of Dittany?" Hermione asked, peering into Minerva's box.
"No," Minerva said exasperatedly. "I meant to restock the box, but -"
"But you've not been feeling yourself lately," Hermione supplied gently. "It's okay. There's some in my bag. In the hall."
They spent the next hour applying the Dittany and gently peeling away the shirt as the drops healed the skin beneath it. Eventually, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as the pain ebbed away and they pulled off the last of the shirt. They both fell back against the sofa in relief, staring at each other in silence.
"If I don't go to bed soon, I'll be sleeping here on the spot," Hermione said apologetically.
"Of course," Minerva smiled. "Come on."
Minerva took Hermione's hand to pull her up off the sofa, but didn't drop it as she led the way down the hallway to the only bedroom.
"Do you want something to sleep in?" Minerva asked. "I can transfigure something to your liking."
"If you don't mind, I really don't," Hermione said, slipping off her jeans.
"You're as likely to give me a heart attack," Minerva muttered, glancing over Hermione's mostly unclad body. "You're beautiful."
"You are," Hermione returned, clambering under the covers without ceremony. "Do you mind if I sleep this side? I can see this is usually yours but," she waved absently to the still damaged shoulder.
"Of course not," Minerva said gently. "I'll be there momentarily."
Hermione didn't know whether Minerva was there minutes later, or three hours. She fell asleep without ceremony, dreaming of Scottish accents and piercing green eyes.