I own none of these characters, only the way in which my imagination portrays them!
Chapter Two.
Minerva's teaching years at Hogwarts had been long yet rewarding. Although her new thrust upon occupation as headmistress was due to Albus' death, she felt a sense of pride in how far she had come. Never as a teenager would she have dreamt of one day sitting in the glorious office that housed all of her predecessors. Sat behind her desk, the large chair swamping her thin figure, she scribbled a quick reply to Molly Weasley's invitation to 'The Second Order Christmas Dinner Get Together', stating she would most certainly be attending.
Watching the owl take flight with her note, Minerva rubbed her forehead wearily with the palm of her right hand, her left resting on her hip. She sighed heavily, the air exhaled from her mouth misting slightly on the cold glass of the window. It had been nearly a year since she had been to a social occasion, finding time difficult to obtain. Hogwarts had been left a mess after the great battle and needed all of Minerva's time and attention to repair. She was tired and longing for her bed, but determined to have an evening of light hearted fun rather than sitting alone thinking, she donned her sleek black dress robes and left before she had a chance to change her mind.
Minerva looked up at the pub that was spilling noises of enjoyed festivities. The Wands Wish was dingy and old; however the light and laughter from within brought a small smile to Minerva's face. Patting down her robes, she entered the pub, warmth rushing over her causing her arms to be covered in goose pimples. As Minerva closed the door quietly, Molly Weasley caught sight of her, immediately pushing her chair backward and running into Minerva's arms.
"I was so worried you wouldn't come. Where have you been? We all wondered whether to come and look for you..."
"I'm fine Molly, really. I just had some things to do back at Hogwarts."
Molly gave Minerva a raised eyebrow and sympathetic look: Minerva knew that all of her friends thought she worked much too hard as headmistress, stressing herself with needless things. But this is what she had become, and she had a duty to herself to fulfil things she thought were necessary. Molly beckoned for her to sit, an empty chair placed along the side of a long, narrow table. As the crowd realised Minerva's appearance, a loud cheer echoed throughout the otherwise empty pub. She sat gracefully, smirking to everyone who caught her eye in appreciation for the warm welcome. Her tumbler began to fill with scotch, courtesy of Arthur Weasley, when Minerva's eyes fell on the woman sat opposite her. Her hair in tight ringlets fell down over her shoulders and just below her breasts, longer than it had ever been; it shone in the candlelight, making it seem as if it were dancing. Her makeup was apparent but slight, only enhancing her features as to covering them. Her lips were covered in a rosy lipstick and then coated with a smear of lip balm to cause a shimmering effect. She wore fitted dress robes in deep purple, a plunging neck line revealing only a little cleavage so as to be noticed, but not to be distasteful. She smiled and joined in the banter that was constant, throwing her head back when she laughed, the wine settled in her goblet apparently taking an effect. She'd lift it to her lips, take a small amount in her mouth and savour the taste, placing the goblet back on the rough wooden table to finger delightfully around the beautiful pattern that surrounded the rim. Her eyes fell on Minerva as she gawped.
"Good evening Professor, I am so glad that you came."
"Hermione Granger... It is a pleasure to see you too." Minerva replied, lifting her glass to toast to the events of the night ahead.
She sipped the scotch, never taking her eyes away from Hermione, who too was swigging from her goblet.
Minerva listened to the cheery conversation all night, too tired to join in but enjoying herself none the less. She leant her chin on her right hand looking down at the table, when she felt a foot brush hers. Minerva decided to ignore this; the drink had been flowing freely, and even in a sober situation one always did catch the foot or leg of the person opposite the table. But again, a foot brushed hers, this time trailing a path up to her shin. Minerva leant back to look under the table, placing her hands on the wooden surface to steady herself. The black Mary-Jane shoes were swinging, legs crossed. She looked up at Hermione who was smiling,
"Sorry Professor. I've been trying to catch your attention for 10 minutes now but you couldn't hear me."
Minerva settled herself back in her chair, her heart thundering against her chest,
"Oh that's quite alright, I apologise Hermione, I find myself in my own thought sometimes."
Hermione giggled, leaning forward.
"I know the feeling! What I wanted to ask you was, what do we call you now? Would you prefer Professor McGonagall, or can I call you by your first?"
Minerva looked into the eyes of the younger witch, who had now brought her hands together and leant to one side on them. She smiled encouragingly at the elder witch, waiting for a reply.
"Minerva. Please, call me Minerva."
Minerva stepped out into the cool evening air. She had arrived last, now she was leaving first. In the same way the cheer had come when she had arrived, a sigh had come when she announced she was leaving. The goose pimples that had raised on her skin when she entered the pub stayed with her, but not due to the warmth. Love is a mutual feeling. She strode up the cobbled road, staggering slightly as the cold air hit her lungs making her head swim from the scotch. It is a feeling of loyalty and truth, a feeling that is as if no one could feel but you. She apparated back to Hogwarts, desperate for her bed. It has no boundaries, no limitations and is open and grand. Hermione had grown into a stunning woman, no longer the girl Minerva had once known. She had taken Minerva by shock, and the touch of her foot had made Minerva realise that this was dangerous. It bears happiness and sadness. She thought she had been able to control these feelings for a long time now. Difficulty and ease. But Hermione had proved her wrong. And is the joy and bane of life. Minerva collapsed into bed and wept, overcome by a feeling she knew she could not act upon. She recited her Mothers words, until she fell into a restless slumber.
A/N: Hope you enjoy! Let me know?