Chapter 2 ~ Splinch

Just over 18 months (1.5 yrs) later

Absently, Minerva began unfastening her traveling cloak as she stepped towards the back of Hog's Head; intent on disappearing from the world for an hour even two. To say the last fifty-six hours had been tedious would have been kind.

"How's the search goin'?" Aberforth asked as he set a glass of whisky on the table. The Prophet and Kingsley's picture glaring at her, along with the headline – Minister of Magic Kidnapped.

Weary green eyes gave the whole of her answer, causing his shoulders to sink marginally too. "Leave the bottle." She flipped her hat off on to the bench seat not willing to comment farther. She was too tired.

"Minerva…" He felt his words falter as she pierced him with her eyes, and he found himself conceding to her wishes. "Very well, but if ya splinch, it will not be my fault."

"Such faith." She quipped, already raising the glass as he merely shook his head as he walked back to the empty bar.

"Has naught to do with faith, Minerva." He retorted looking at his exhausted friend, "Merely fact. You are tired and have no business with a drink in your hand or at the back of your gullet."

"Ahh…" She poured herself a second measure, "If I had wanted to hear false concern, I'd just as soon return to Hogwarts." She remarked causing him to hold up his hands in defeat.

"Then drink your poison, I only ask for one question to be answered in exchange for my silence."

A rueful smile passed across her lips as she felt the alcohol warm its way through her stomach; eyes twinkling against the firelight. "Ask your questions Aberforth, before I care not whether I answer."

Aberforth outright chuckled at the normally reserved woman, they had a strange friendship that had survived three wars and his brother. "Do you wish the loft or a call to your Deputy this evening?"

She knocked back the last of her second drink, "I shall make my way to Hogwarts." She said, partially offended at his question. She was after all, only going to finish off one bottle tonight. Not that two or three didn't sound better. As at that many, she might forget the events leading up to Kingsley's kidnapping; and why she was here to begin with.

Without thought, she poured herself a third drink; and hastily lifted her eyes from the mahogany table – the hue was too close to hers.

And dear Merlin what a mess that was.

Her legendary willpower having faltered for only a heartbeat. But, it had faltered. Irrevocably and flamboyantly faltered.

She still couldn't recall what they had been discussing; it was of little import now.

Emerald eyes stared into the amber liquid, and she found if she concentrated she could still feel the way her heated breath tickled across her skin as brown eyes became lidded and instinctively she leaned forward and gently brushed moist lips. It was tentative. It had been spontaneous, catching both women by surprise. However, before she had been able to collect herself or her thoughts, Hermione leaned into her; momentarily seizing her lips with unbridled passion eliciting a moan from her depths. Before a wide-eyed, Hermione Granger stepped back; brown eyes holding a mix of lust and anguish, tears already sliding down her cheeks.

"After all these years, why now?" She cried out in a harsh tone.

"Hermione I…didna mean…"

She had not been at her most poetic at that very moment, or expressive regarding her own feelings. Her mind still reeling from her action and momentary lapse in judgment, however as Hermione's hand made contact with her cheek; her lightening thought process finally sludged forward – but it was too late. Hermione had already turned and was four paces a way, leaving behind a stunned woman with a welt as a reminder for her momentary lack of grace.

That had been - just over three days ago.

And only hours before an alert had gone through the Ministry and the old Order members; Kingsley having been kidnapped.

She had somehow found the blasted trail and followed until the last apparation had caused her to do what Aberforth had feared. Splinch. Not bad. She had cast a few spells to staunch the blood and it would hold for a few more drinks. She'd have it treated upon returning to Hogwarts.

She finished off her third drink, immediately filling the barren glass with another. After all, it wasn't the pain from the splinch that had brought her here, or that she had lost the damn trail after following it for over fifty hours; but the reason behind her splinch had driven her to the amber poison she so willingly drank.

And she had no idea on how to rectify her problem. For she had tasted her sweet lips and now, she couldn't stop thinking about them.

"Damn." She murmured to herself, causing Aberforth to glance towards her.

"Don't worry, Minerva. I'm sure you'll find them."

With a heavy sigh, she downed the fourth glass and stood. He was right, she'd find them. That's what she did, find people. Her animagus traits made her an ideal tracker. But, that wasn't what worried her. Because, somewhere along the line – it seemed that Hermione had not only found her, but found a way to her. She feared, all the way to her heart; and she didn't know how that it happened, only that it had. Her right arm grabbing her cloak, "That's what I'm afraid of." She threw a small bag of coin onto the counter.

"Good night, Aberforth." She slipped on her cloak.

He frowned, "Is that blood?" He went to step from around the counter, but her prickly demeanor stopped him.

"It's already been sorted." She gave a nod in farewell and was gone, wishing her own thoughts were as easily sorted as the brisk fall air touched her skin.

Xoxo

A/N: Finally got over the small writer's block I had regarding this story.