*** Sorry for the gap between chapters. Hope you enjoy this one with our favourite Headmistress! Please review and let me know how you think the story's going so far. ***
The three stepped out of the large stone fireplace in Professor McGonagall's study, as the elderly Headmistress surveyed them with a beady eye from behind her octagonal glasses, still daunting despite the tartan dressing gown and hairnet she was wearing. 'Well, well, come in, have a seat. I think a camomile concoction would be more in keeping at this hour.' She flicked her wand horizontally and transfigured a tray laden with a steaming teapot and cups.
Hermione, George and Fred sat down in front of the desk, but continued to look around the study. Much was the same. The portraits of former headteachers were arrayed on the wall behind the desk. Dumbledore's portrait was still in place directly behind the desk. The bearded figure with its broken nose and half-moon glasses seemed to be asleep, but Hermione wondered if she caught a little gleam from his eyes when she looked away. There was a new portrait none of them had seen before, though Harry had told Hermione it was there. Beside Dumbledore's portrait was Snape's – no feigning sleep here. He looked down his long nose at Hermione with a complex gaze of disapproval and admiration, before looking away.
To the side of the room they saw the Pensieve cabinet, covered with a thin layer of dust. Perhaps the current headmistress had not had as many troubling thoughts to preserve in it as her predecessors.
On another wall they glimpsed a set of shelves filled with odd objects – furry teacups, metallic hedgehogs with sharp tails, half-formed birds with parchment feathers. McGonagall saw them looking at the items. 'Ah, you've spotted my collection of souvenirs from Transfiguration classes. I like to hold on to some of the… let's say, less successful efforts of my former students, as a reminder of where even the most accomplished of us started out.'
She clapped her hands together gently to get the attention of her guests. 'Enough social niceties. I'm honoured by the visit of some of my most talented former pupils, but they don't often tend to floo me at nine on a summer's evening, seeking an urgent visit.'
She fixed each of them with a gimlet stare as she tapped her wand on the tea tray. The teapot rose in the air and poured out the camomile tea into the four teacups, which then wafted over to distribute themselves between the Headmistress and her guests.
Hermione took a polite sip, then a deep breath. 'Um, yes, you must be wondering what we want to ask you.'
'Indeed, Miss Granger. I suggest you all get straight to the point. I can survive without explication and context.'
Fred now leant forward. 'We want to ask our Mum something and we don't think she'll like it.'
'So, we're testing it on you, Professor,' George finished cheekily.
'Are you now?' said McGonagall, not giving away a single emotion as she sipped her tea.
'Professor McGonagall, the thing is,' said Hermione hesitantly. 'The three of us… well, it's been a long time in coming, but tonight we all finally admitted our feelings for each other. I love George and Fred and…'
'We love her,' said Fred bluntly. 'Both of us do. And we want to form a Triad Bond.'
None of them expected the reaction from their former Transfiguration professor as she spluttered over a sip of her tea. 'What?! What are you telling me?'
The three looked downcast, certain now of her disapproval.
Her small coughing fit over, the headmistress tutted at them. 'Do you mean to tell me – Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, Mr Weasley – that you have only just now declared your feelings for each other? What on earth have you been doing this last year?'
They swapped surprised looks.
'When I heard that Miss Granger had moved into your flat over a year ago, I assumed you were all at last acting on the bond the resurrection spell had created,' the Headmistress continued. ' Are you saying you have been repressing it all this time? That you haven't yet formed your Triad?'
They nodded meekly, still not quite sure whether she was giving her approval.
Professor McGonagall shook her head and glanced back at Snape's portrait behind her – Snape rolled his eyes briefly in response and then went back to looking away disdainfully. Over her shoulder the three could see Dumbledore's portrait, still seemingly asleep, but his shoulders trembled slightly, apparently with suppressed laughter. The expressions of the other former headteachers ranged from incredulity, to scandalised amazement, to blatant interest. Phineas Nigellus Black gave a disapproving 'tsk'. When McGonagall turned back to them, her gaze had softened.
'I have one thing to say to you three. And you would do well to listen.' She looked steadily at each of them in turn before continuing. 'Love is where it falls. You must seize it. Heaven knows, life is short.' She looked at Fred particularly beadily this time. 'And here sit the three of you, telling me you've wasted all this time? Hmm?'
Professor McGonagall tutted again and shook her head, opening a drawer of her desk to pull out a tartan-patterned tin. 'Goodness me, if I could only have had more time with Mr Urquart, and you three are sighing over each other and doing nothing about it. Have a biscuit.' She pushed the opened tin of shortbread towards them. Each took one meekly, not wishing to diminish her apparent approval.
'Well,' continued the headmistress. 'I still don't really understand why you three have chosen me to discuss this with. Surely Mr Potter, or even Mr Weasley junior might be better candidates, given the closeness of your friendship with them. I will say this about you, Miss Granger – you certainly seem to prefer to have two young men to squire you about, whether in simple friendship – or love,' as she nodded over to the twins.
Hermione shifted in her seat and crumbled a morsel of shortbread between her fingers. 'The thing is, as we mentioned, you're a test case.'
McGonagall did not answer, but merely arched one eyebrow, waiting for the young witch to continue.
'I made a condition with the boys, er, twins. That we can form our Triad Bond if we can gain Molly's approval. But she is rather…'
'Intimidating? Daunting? Erratic?' offered McGonagall.
'Er, yes, and we thought that we would ask you first – to sort of, um, test the waters…' Hermione trailed off.
'Well, what are you dithering here for? You have my blessing! Now go and talk to Molly without delay – I know she sits up late, counting over her family in her head to ensure they're all safe, poor thing.' McGonagall stood up and flapped her hands at the three, as if to herd them out the door, ignoring their fervent thank yous. 'I suggest you apparate nearby the Burrow, and take a little walk there to collect your thoughts, rather than appear by floo right beside her in the kitchen – it'll startle her. Go on then, I'll lift the disapparition enchantments for you for the next few minutes.'
As George, Fred and Hermione left the room, the Headmistress called over to them. 'Good luck, my dears, and don't waste any more time… Miss Granger, you are a very lucky young woman!' Hermione looked back to see a merry glint in her former teacher's eye. 'And gentlemen – I hope you truly understand what an exceptional witch you have here – cherish her.' George and Fred nodded their hearty agreement, and again put their arms around Hermione before they disapparated.
Professor McGonagall reached across her desk and rang a small, gold bell. With a crack a house elf appeared beside the desk.
'Winky, dear, please take down a note to be delivered to Molly Weasley at the Burrow without delay.' The elf started to bow ingratiatingly, then stopped herself and snapped her fingers. A quill and parchment appeared in her hands. She waited for her employer to dictate.
'As follows: "Dear Molly, your children will be arriving shortly to seek your blessing on a matter of great importance. I strongly urge you to give it to them. Yours very sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, etc., etc." Now, dear, if you can ensure this letter reaches Molly before her twins and Hermione do, I would be most appreciative. I can only hope that one wise old bird can influence another.'
As the house elf clicked her fingers and disappeared, the headmistress sat back complacently in her seat, and called over her shoulder. 'Well Albus, well Severus – our former students never do fail to surprise us, do they?'
*** Off to the Burrow next chapter! Reviews are like butterbeer and chocolate frogs... ***