A/N: Lots happening in this one. I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 9
A faint knocking on her door awoke Hermione. Not quite understanding what was happening, Hermione looked around. Her bedroom was filled with sunlight, and her body was quite warm even though she was stretched out on top of her blankets. She heard another knock through the open door and realized someone was outside her private rooms, waiting for admittance.
Was it still Sunday or had she slept into the next morning? Was she late for class?
Movement at her bedroom door brought her eyes to a startled gaze. After a pregnant pause, Hermione's mind began to function. She was stretched out on her bed. Nude.
"I apologize for the intrusion, Hermione. I will wait for you in the living area," Minerva said, her voice strained.
Hermione remained frozen for a moment longer before hopping up to get dressed. She groaned as her muscles complained. She was sore from flying. Gingerly she pulled jeans and a chestnut-colored jumper over her tired body and slowly made her way toward Minerva.
"Would you care for some tea?" Hermione asked.
"Let me make it," Minerva answered as she rose from the sofa. Hermione nodded and sat down, glad Minerva had taken the initiative of starting a blazing fire to warm up the room. Although she was not cold, she wanted Minerva to be comfortable. She stared at the fire even after Minerva returned with a tea set and poured the steaming beverage for them. Hearing a sigh, Hermione shifted her attention to Minerva. The look of sorrow and worry pulled at Hermione's heartstrings, but her wounded pride kept her mute.
"Please tell me I have not irreparably damaged our relationship," Minerva said softly.
Hermione returned her gaze to the fire as she tried to gather her thoughts. "I do not understand why you will not let me love you," she said in a near-whisper. "I thought you reciprocated my feelings, but it seems not." She blinked back tears, frustrated by her inability to control her emotions. She did not want to cry every time her feelings were hurt.
"Hermione," Minerva said, a tentative hand coming to rest on her knee. "I do reciprocate your feelings. Surely my actions have reflected how much I care for you."
Not able to control her response, Hermione shot a scornful look at Minerva. "So it seems," she replied sardonically, sarcasm hanging in the air between them.
Without warning strong arms gathered her up and pulled her forward so that she lay sprawled on top of the elder witch. Long fingers framed her face with care, and she was forced to look into dark green eyes. "Hermione, please listen to me. You were driving me mad with desire while we were together Friday night. I came so close to giving in, but I want our first time to be everything you deserve."
She leaned up to graze her lips across Hermione's cheek, causing her to shiver. "Am I correct in believing that you have not lain with anyone before?" she whispered tenderly. Hermione nodded. "I do not ever want you to feel cheated, Hermione. I do apologize for taking the decision out of your hands. Would it help to know that I have missed you terribly these last couple of days, that the thought of losing you drove me to invade your privacy with the goal of pleading for your continued affections?"
Hermione smiled, no longer able to hold on to her anger. "You have my heart, Minerva. My emotions have ruled my head lately, and for that I am sorry. But please don't make me wait too long, love. I find myself yearning for your touch."
Minerva pulled Hermione's head forward gently, and they kissed slowly, reaffirming their bond. One kiss became two and then several as their passions increased. When Hermione finally raised her head, she looked down to see parted, kiss-swollen lips and dark, desire-glazed eyes. She had never seen a sight so enticing. "You are so beautiful." The urge to proclaim her love was overwhelming, but she held back. Instead she laid her head against Minerva's chest and breathed in her distinctive fragrance of ginger and vanilla. She could hear the older witch's heart racing against her ear, and it soothed her to know she did, in fact, affect Minerva. Gentle fingers combed through her short-cropped hair hypnotically.
After several minutes of lying together on the sofa, Hermione heard her love ask, "Would you like to go for a walk?"
Hermione lifted her head and replied incredulously, "In the snow?" A cocky grin made her chuckle. "Sure." She rose and extended her hand chivalrously to help Minerva rise. "Let me just put on my outer robes," Hermione said as she turned to her bedroom. A moment later they left her rooms and made their way out of the castle. Idly, Hermione wondered how Minerva had retrieved her outer robes, scarf, gloves, and hat. She chalked it up to just another mystery regarding the woman who held her heart.
They walked closely although they did not touch, aware of the fact that students were everywhere. Soon they arrived on the edge of the Quidditch pitch, and Hermione looked up at the fire-twisted goalposts and partly-melted metal structures—monstrous reminders of the damage inflicted during the last battle with Voldemort on what used to make up the Quidditch field and stands. Hermione noticed that Minerva's lips were pressed together in a grim line. Everyone knew how much she loved the game.
"Didn't you play Quidditch?" Hermione asked lightly, hoping that Minerva would regale her with some stories and in the process release some of the melancholy she must feel for having to cancel this year's Quidditch season. Once the winter passed they would be able to repair the field, but they had simply not had enough time to do so before the school year had begun.
"Indeed I did. I loved the game. Still do. The freedom and the challenge involved were exhilarating. Quite the adrenalin rush." Hermione was charmed by how Minerva's face lit up as she began to relate the details of a particularly difficult game during her fifth year against the Slytherins. Hermione ignored the strong wind, the cold temperature, the snow crunching under her feet as they walked onto the pitch and strolled around the side of the field. When it began to snow again, she lifted her face toward the sky and smiled with delight.
Snow fell quickly with large snowflakes blanketing the pitch, the twisted metal, and all the evidence of the trials and tribulations they had endured while fighting evil. The pure, white substance coated the land with a new look, removing any remnants of unwanted memories. Hermione smiled widely, taken with the sharp smell of snow, the blank slate of life, the shared moment of experiencing Nature at her finest.
She stood still as Minerva continued to walk around the field. Before Minerva got too far, Hermione bent down and scooped up a handful of the fluffy, heavy snow. She packed it together and threw it without warning, hitting her target in the middle of the back. She squatted to scoop more snow before running away, knowing Minerva would retaliate. Feeling the air shift, Hermione ducked just fast enough to avoid receiving a snowball on the back of her head. "Surely you can do better than that!" she mocked, laughing as she ran along the side of the pitch. Hermione threw another snowball, not waiting to see whether it hit Minerva before she ran across the field with a playful shriek.
The snow was starting to come down heavily, the snowflakes smaller and more numerous, hampering Hermione's efforts to effectively see her intended victim. She packed another snowball in her hands while looking for the formidable woman. An ominous creaking sound wrenched her attention away from Minerva, and as she looked upward she felt a snowball land on her chest. She hardly registered the hit, though, as she watched a section of the twisted metal stadium seating bend under the weight of ice and snow. "Minerva!" she shouted, trying to warn her of the instability of the wreckage, but the woman did not hear her.
Hearing the high-pitched screeching of breaking metal, Hermione yelled out, "Depulso!" as she raised her wand at the now-falling structure and began running toward Minerva. The piece of metal was deflected to the side, but Hermione saw another piece continuing to fall toward Minerva. As if in slow motion, Hermione saw Minerva look up just before the massive piece of twisted metal pushed her to the ground.
Horrified, Hermione screamed in distress. She shouted, "Mobilimetallum," and pointed her wand to the side to remove the construct. Reaching Minerva's side, Hermione fell to her knees while her eyes frantically sought confirmation that Minerva was still breathing.
"Minerva!" she cried out as she saw blood rapidly covering the older woman's chest, pooling over and dripping onto the new snow. The red contrasted horribly against the pure whiteness surrounding them. She saw how Minerva's chest seemed to be caved in and felt tears spring to her eyes. She checked for a pulse while calling Minerva's name repeatedly. It was thready but present.
Pain-glazed dull eyes looked up at Hermione. Minerva's mouth opened and closed several times as Hermione tried ineffectually to staunch the flow of blood.
"No! No! Minerva, you can't die. You can't! I love you. Please don't leave me. Please. I need you." Hermione shook her head as feelings of helplessness overwhelmed her. Tears and snow mingled as the storm raged on. "I love you." She shook her head, trying to see better. "I have to get Poppy," she muttered.
"Her…mi…o…ne," Minerva said weakly.
"Shhh. Don't speak," Hermione said brokenly. "And don't you dare die, Minerva McGonagall. I gave you my heart. I fully expect to receive yours in return. Hold on!"
Not yet knowing how to transform into her animagus state while in clothes, Hermione hurriedly removed her outer robe, scarf, gloves, shoes, jeans, shirt, and undergarments. She tucked her wand within the garments and stood. It was cold enough to cause Hermione to shiver uncontrollably. Goose bumps covered her body, and her nipples were so hard, they throbbed.
She glanced down and saw Minerva's eyes glued to her. Gritting her teeth, Hermione pictured herself as a phoenix and felt the transformation occur. It was quicker this time. Easier. She looked down once more and saw a stunned look on Minerva's pain-lined face. Emitting a long screech, Hermione pushed up with her legs and was airborne.
Hermione flew directly to the hospital wing, passing through the window and landing next to Poppy, the school's healer. She was alone in her office with a quill in her hand. Hermione transformed back to her human form, not caring that she was nude. "Poppy!" Hermione said urgently. "The Headmistress is dying on the Quidditch pitch. Some of the stands fell on top of her and crushed her chest." Hermione turned back into a phoenix and looked at Poppy. She seemed shocked.
Hermione squawked loudly. Poppy jumped and shook herself as if she were emerging from a daydream. She held out her hand while yelling, "Accio my broomstick!" Grabbing her medical bag and coat, Poppy turned to Hermione's animagus. "Lead on."
Pushing up with her legs, Hermione flew out the window, Poppy following closely. The snow hampered Hermione's visibility and slowed down her speed, but she was determined to get back as quickly as possible. Looking behind her, she saw Poppy wrestling with the broom and hoped she would be okay. They landed next to Minerva moments later, and Hermione's heart nearly stopped when she saw how still and colorless her love looked.
Poppy began a series of complex diagnostics to determine what was wrong and what could be done. Hermione, still in her animagus form, leaned over the motionless body. She smelled death.
One look at Poppy's face, and Hermione knew it was hopeless. Tears leaked from Hermione's eyes, and she began to emit high-pitched squeals as agony flowed through her. Hermione's tears ran quickly over her angled face, dropping onto the still body, the body that showed no signs of life. Although Poppy indicated that Minerva was still breathing, she had slipped into a state of unconsciousness. Poppy leaned back on her heels and shook her head sadly.
As her tears bathed Minerva, Hermione's heart broke. She tipped her head back and began to sing a beautiful, heart-wrenching lament. Her true love was gone, and she was left alone. How can I live without her?
She sang for lost love, for loneliness, for colorless days and empty nights. Her melody reflected great loss with no hope for a joyful future. No hope of feeling those strong arms wrapped around her. No hope of watching her eyes darken with passion, or hearing that Scottish lilt caressing her ears, or smelling that distinctive, soothing scent, or tasting those distracting lips. They would never make love, and Hermione would never feel her heart overflow with love. Never again. It died here, with Minerva.
A gasp from Poppy caught Hermione's attention. Seeing Poppy staring at Minerva, Hermione looked down. Clear green eyes stared at her in wonder. Hermione began to sing joyfully for several moments as she gazed into those emerald eyes. While they continued to stare, Poppy excitedly conducted more diagnostics.
"This is unbelievable. You should be dead. How is this possible?" Poppy sputtered. Hermione stopped singing but continued to stare into blazing eyes.
"One can be healed by the tears of a phoenix," Minerva uttered softly.
"Well, I'll say! You are in better physical condition than I have ever seen you, never mind ten minutes ago." Poppy tilted her head. "Can you sit up?" She reached over to support Minerva as she slowly pulled herself into a sitting position. "Good."
"I feel good. Better than good, actually," Minerva said. She looked at Hermione. "Why don't you change back?"
Hermione couldn't communicate verbally, so she hopped to her pile of clothes and looked at Minerva. Understanding flashed through her eyes. "Ah. I'll have to teach you about that," she said, humor lacing her words. She pulled the clothing toward her and looked at Poppy. "I am going to return to my rooms to rest. I will see you tomorrow."
"What? No! Minerva you nearly died. I need to conduct tests—"
"I am sorry to disappoint you, and I do thank you for trying to help me, but I feel physically fit—just tired. I will come by to see you tomorrow," Minerva finished firmly.
No one argued with that tone of voice. Evidently, Poppy knew that, too.
With a sigh, Poppy said sternly, "See that you do, Minerva. I want to make sure you are fully recovered."
Minerva just nodded. Poppy looked around before getting on her broom and flying back to Hogwarts. The snow had slowed down to mere flurries. It seemed the storm had passed.
Gently, Minerva wrapped her arms around Hermione's torso. "A phoenix can disapparate and apparate anywhere regardless of any wards or charms and can take others. Just think of my rooms, Hermione."
Nodding, Hermione visualized Minerva's living room and felt magic wash over her. Finding herself in Minerva's rooms, she cocked her head at Minerva, who held her securely in her arms. Hermione squirmed, wanting to be released. "I beg your pardon," Minerva said as she placed Hermione on the floor. She set Hermione's clothing next to her. "You need only enchant your clothes and anything else on your person before transforming into your animagus state so that they will be banished and summoned as needed. I cannot say I am sorry for not telling you earlier, though."
Hermione could see the sparkle in Minerva's eyes and hear mirth coupled with desire in her voice. Emboldened, Hermione transformed back to her human form. Her nude form. She stood proudly, staring into darkening eyes. Smiling mischievously, Hermione said softly, "I'll have to remember that for future changes." She smirked as she noticed her effect on Minerva. The older witch flushed, her eyes trained on Hermione's body as her breathing quickened.
Stepping into Minerva's space with a smirk, Hermione ran her hands up the arms of the snow-soaked robes. "We need to get these clothes off of you. They are soaked. And you are shivering." Hermione unclasped the outer cloak and turned to hang the garment over a wooden chair. She muttered. "Tergeo," and smiled grimly as the cloak was cleansed of Minerva's dried blood. She refocused on Minerva, a wave of desire roaring through her.
"Hermione," Minerva whispered hoarsely. Hermione's hands were captured before she could work on removing Minerva's tartan robes. "Please. You have made your point. You are stunning. Breathtaking. Incredible. I want you so badly that I am shaking like a leaf, buffeted by the force of my desires."
"Then why can't we?" Hermione asked.
Minerva shook her head as a look of bewilderment crossed her face. "Hermione, don't you want it to be at the right time? When we have no constraints pressing upon us? Your body will want to rest after your animagus transformations. That will wear off in time, but you are just beginning to adapt. And I nearly died today. My body is spent. I am exhausted." She kissed Hermione's knuckles softly. "I want to be at my best for you. Tomorrow we will have to rise early for classes, and I do not think it best for us to remain awake long into the night, which will happen if we give into our desires."
With a sigh, Hermione drew Minerva in to her arms for a fierce hug. They remained in this position for many minutes, just enjoying the closeness, until Hermione's stomach announced rather loudly that her body required sustenance. They broke apart while chuckling.
"We had better feed you," Minerva said as her eyes swept over Hermione's body. "And although I prefer your current state, it is probably best that you get dressed." They smiled at each other before Hermione retrieved her clothes. Meanwhile, Minerva waved her wand over her body while muttering Tergeo to remove the copious amount of blood and a hot-air charm to dry her clothes.
They ate quietly, both lost in their thoughts. After they finished their meal, they sat on the sofa, Minerva's arms wrapped around Hermione. They discussed the upcoming holiday, Hogwarts, and the Manor in soft voices, as if they were sharing their innermost secrets. In some ways, they were. They were planning a future together.
Hermione loved feeling Minerva so close to her. As the evening progressed, Hermione placed her head on Minerva's lap, moaning her appreciation as Minerva's fingers rubbed her scalp, stalling behind her ears to massage lightly. It felt heavenly.
"I think it is time for you to turn in, my love. Your body needs rest," Minerva said.
"I don't want to leave you," Hermione murmured, turning her face toward Minerva's stomach. Her eyes closed as those magical fingers massaged her back. She placed her hands around Minerva's waist and pushed her head into Minerva's lap. A low chuckle met her ears, and she grinned.
"Nor do I wish you to leave." They remained quiet long enough after Minerva spoke that Hermione began to drift off. She heard words whispered near her ear. "Tha gràdh agam ort." Hermione blinked open her eyes and turned onto her back to look up into Minerva's eyes.
"What does that mean?" she asked softly. Minerva's face softened with emotion, her eyes mesmerizing Hermione. She lifted a hand and stroked an angled cheek, loving the way Minerva's eyes fluttered closed at her touch.
"Those are the Gaelic words for I love you. I did not have the opportunity to tell you earlier, but it has been true for some time. Each day I fall deeper in love. You have my heart, Hermione."
Hearing those words, Hermione felt her heart leap. She slid her hand behind Minerva's neck and pulled her down for a heated kiss. When it broke, she smiled widely. She squealed in delight as she was lifted off the sofa in one smooth move. "Minerva!"
"It is time for you to rest, mo Gràdh. Stay with me?" Minerva said as she carried Hermione toward her bedroom.
"I thought you didn't want to rush?" Hermione asked even as jolts of arousal raced through her.
"Aye. But that does not mean I cannot hold you throughout the night," Minerva answered as she carefully lowered Hermione onto her bed. Hermione's blood heated at the look in Minerva's eyes. "Now then. Let's find you something to wear."
"I can just strip down. After all, you have seen me naked," Hermione teased.
"I am not a saint, Hermione, and I would not have the strength to safeguard your maidenhood while sleeping next to you if you wore no clothes." Minerva seemed so solemn as she sat down on the edge of the bed that Hermione felt horrible for pushing her.
"I'm sorry, Minerva. I shouldn't keep challenging you in this way," Hermione said in a contrite tone. "Please do not be upset." She retrieved her wand and transfigured her clothes into flannel pajamas. "There. Get ready so that I can feel your arms around me."
With a nod of agreement, Minerva finished her ablutions quickly and slid into bed. Hermione sighed as their bodies intertwined and their lips met. They shared a slow kiss, ripe with promises. Hermione smiled as Minerva ended it with several light kisses reminiscent of when her animagus had kissed Hermione months ago. Settling into Minerva's warm body, Hermione closed her eyes, content. She hoped this night was the first of what would become commonplace: falling asleep in Minerva's arms. Judging by the purring that vibrated under Hermione's ear, Minerva felt the same way.