AN: Quick update! For those of you worrying about the lack of MMHG interaction, this chapter is for you. Let me know how you're feeling about it. :)
"Looks like you and the Headmistress are on the same page, Hermione," Harry stated, glancing over the green ink. "She's said she'll have the books ready for your next return."
Harry handed her the letter, and Hermione smiled as she read. There was something about that green ink that was inseparable from her identity. It was where the real discovery of herself had begun, and no matter the circumstances, that green ink would always resonate. She scrolled down to the post-script at the bottom.
Mrs. H. Weasley,
I will have what is available here for you on Saturday.
Until then,
Minerva M. McGonagall
Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Hermione quirked at the discontinuance of her given name, but dwindled on it little. Harry and Ron were still discussing Marksbury's body and what any of this could possibly be.
"Honestly, you two," Hermione turned to them. "There's not much to talk about until we get more information on the subject."
Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Suppose you were his wife, Hermione. Wouldn't you want answers?"
Harry himself could feel the sting of the slap across Ron's face, wincing at the sound. "Don't. You. Dare!" she shouted.
Shoulders shaking, Hermione's mind reeled. The thought of losing Ron was always there, lurking in the back of her mind. The loss of one of their squad had hit her closer than she had realized. The idea of being Pippa, even for a moment, was too much for Hermione to take in.
Tears threatening to fall, Hermione turned out of the owlery and made her way back to her office, closing the door behind her.
How could he be so insensitive? Did he think she didn't know about how dangerous things were? That she didn't care about Marksbury and his family?
Hermione's choked sobs echoed of the walls of her office. She sniffed hard, willing her breathing to steady.
She exhaled through her mouth deeply. Ron could be so infuriating! Emotions on edge, Hermione hadn't realized that she had crumpled the letter from Minerva inside her balled fists. Laying it flat on her desk and smoothing out its creased edges, Hermione gave her best effort to focus on Saturday.
Saturday meant progress.
Saturday meant answers.
Saturday meant returning to Hogwarts.
Saturday crept upon the Headmistress all too quickly. Magic was a wonderful thing, but the staff was still looking a bit more worn than usual by the time the Great Hall was set up.
Minerva was dressed in her high-collar emerald dress robes, accented with black trim. Seated at the head table, Filius and Pomona to her right, Minerva sat rigid as a plank, as if anticipating mischief. She leaned in and down to her Deputy, who was gesturing to the entryway.
Rose Weasley had just walked into the Hall, dressed in a beautiful blue dress.
But it was woman to her right that had caused Minerva's eyes to widen.
Hermione's figure was trimmed in a soft black dress that fit her at the waist and flowed away from her body, to her knees. The front of the dress swooped around her collarbones and dared to tip off her shoulders, where long sleeves clung to slim, graceful arms.
The Headmistress inhaled sharply as flashes of the Yule Ball rolled through her mind. Hermione had transformed from a young, lovely girl into a stunning woman. Minerva was helpless against the smile that crept upon her face, lighting up her features. There would be time for business later, but tonight was to set the tone for the rest of the inquiry and, by extension, Hermione's presence at the school. Minerva desperately wished for interactions among the staff to be as smooth as possible…especially given the grey cloud of foul motives looming overhead.
Across the Hall, Hermione caught the Headmistress' eye and waved, flashing white teeth that contrasted beautifully to her scarlet lip stain. She kneeled down to Rose and kissed her on the cheek, releasing her to mingle with her friends for the evening.
Minerva stood from her seat at the Head Table, moving with swift step to greet Hermione. "It was so good of you to invite me, Headmistress," the younger witch reached out to shake Minerva's hand.
"Again, I couldn't be more pleased that you've joined us, Hermione. Shall we?" Minerva gestured back to the Head Table, where the chair left of her own was empty.
Hermione nodded as the two made their way across the Hall. Minerva only had to stop twice.
"Mr. Bonner, your hands would look far more flattering on her waist, if you please." The young boy flushed, moving his hands immediately six inches higher on the girl he was dancing with, who looked slightly relieved at the intervention.
"To be fourteen again," Hermione mused.
"Come now, Hermione," Minerva turned her head toward the younger witch. "You speak as if you weren't that age just yesterday."
Hermione's mouth gaped playfully. "Thou dost wound me, Madame," she held her heart over her breast melodramatically. "We can't all be perfectly venerable, Headmistress."
"Touché," Minerva turned her eyes back toward the front of the Hall, quite enjoying the gentle banter.
They reached the Head Table, where Minerva made introductions, albeit a bit moot. However, despite the formalities, Hermione found herself in casual conversation with each of her former professors.
Although she wasn't at liberty to discuss the details of the investigation, Hermione was able to entertain most of the general questions from the staff. Most of the comments included how good it was to see her, and that their only regret was that it couldn't be on better terms.
A few hours later, she refreshed herself over a glass of punch with Pomona Sprout, who had cleaned up rather well for the evening. "I'm sure you'll make the best of it, dear," she smiled, patting her on the arm. Across the way, Pomona's husband and the Headmistress were deeply engaged in conversation.
"They keep fairly busy, those two," Pomona commented.
"Mmm, I can imagine," Hermione replied, sipping her punch. "I don't envy either of them, in the slightest."
"You stick tight with Minerva, and everything will be just fine," Pomona had easily picked up on Hermione's nerves.
Hermione sighed. "I don't doubt that I am in capable hands, professor. I just don't want this to be any more stressful for her than it already must be."
Pomona's face adopted an ironic smile. Both Hermione and Minerva's greatest amounts of worry would deal in protecting the other from any complication. She jogged a mental note to discuss this with Filius later. "You're both brilliant women. I have no doubts you'll pass through this with ease," Pomona refilled her glass and grabbed a second for Filius. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make sure the Deputy isn't thirsty."
Hermione nodded. "Thank you, professor." She watched as the shorter woman carefully made her way over to an even shorter man, taking up the space where Minerva had just been.
Hermione's brow furrowed as she scanned the Hall for Minerva…She should have been easy to spot, taller than most of the occupants.
"Looking for someone?" Minerva questioned from behind Hermione, having just reached for the punch bowl.
Hermione jumped, turning around swiftly. "You startled me," she whispered. She wasn't sure why, but she did. "And yes, I was looking to see where you had gone off to."
Minerva stood next to Hermione and looked out over the floor to the students, dancing rather ungracefully. "Well it would seem I'm fairing well at my duties as chaperone, then."
Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "Yes, I'm sure lurking around in the shadows startling the staff and student body merits success," she mocked playfully.
"For all the fun, there must be the opposite swing of the pendulum," Minerva countered.
"Who was it in our fourth year that lectured us on 'letting our hair down,' as it were?"
Minerva's head snapped to Hermione, away from the floor. "You've got a bit more cheek than I recall. I suppose it's all bark and no bite?"
"Beg your pardon?" Hermione asked.
"Well I certainly shan't shy away. You make a fair point, Hermione," Minerva sat her punch down on the table and offered Hermione her hand. "Shall we?"
Hermione was too stunned to speak. The playful banter had felt so natural, even if it had been a bit heavy-handed. Hermione's nerves were still present, and this had been the healthiest way to counter them. But she could never have expected to be where Ron had been years ago, which was arm in arm with Minerva McGonagall, preparing to dance.
Time was passing so slowly, but Hermione still couldn't grasp what was happening.
She blinked.
A steady arm slipped around her waist.
She exhaled.
A firm hand grasped her own.
She looked up.
Green eyes met her brown ones.
Her heart pounded in her ears. She could hear nothing else.
Slowly, she felt her body move but was unsure as to how. She was equally unsure where to look.
As she stepped on a black boot, shaking her head, Hermione snapped out of her own confusion. "Sorry," she muttered.
"That's quite alright, Hermione. It's not every day one's bluff is called by the Headmistress of Hogwarts," she pressed to lighten the mood. She had meant to catch Hermione off guard, but not to make her uncomfortable. "Just ease into the music, and I will take the lead."
Hermione sighed a breath of relief, exhaling deeply. "Best news I've had all day," she laughed awkwardly.
"I shouldn't have pressed so quickly. My apologies, Hermione." Minerva kept a steady hand on Hermione's waist, gently keeping them in step and time.
If possible, Hermione blushed a deeper shade than she had previously been. "No, please," she responded. "I was a bit bold this evening. You'd do me a service if you were able to excuse my poor attempt to seem effortlessly comfortable."
Minerva released Hermione's waist, gracefully easing her into a spin. "Consider it done, Hermione," they rejoined. "And I'm only sorry I've made that more difficult for you."
It was a polite display, both their conversation and their dancing. Each exchange of words found the two women able to speak only the language of propriety. It seemed an appropriate response to the unease that they had created.
Before Hermione was aware, the steady grip at her waist had fallen and the music had stopped. Heart still hammering, Hermione was now unsure of any aspect of herself, which resulted in her unconsciously fidgeting with her hands. "I could go for a drink."
"I think there's a few numbers left in the queue, and then we could retire for a real drink, if you would like to join me and review some of the books I've gathered?" Minerva offered.
Hermione had said goodnight to Rose, whose hair had fallen loosely over the course of the evening, but looked like she had had a riveting time. She glowed in the candlelight of the Hall as she hugged her mother before retreating to the Gryffindor Common Room.
Filius and Pomona had left a few minutes prior, escorting the students and monitoring the passages back to the common rooms.
Minerva and Hermione were the last ones to retreat, slowly making their way to her quarters. "I don't mean to intrude, but the books Harry requested?" The Headmistress asked, hoping to ease the subtle tension between the pair.
"They're for research purposes. Harry and Ron lost an auror on their last mission, and the cause of death has stirred up some interesting new concerns," Hermione explained.
Minerva frowned. "I'm sorry to hear of their loss," she responded, slightly regretting having asked. "I hope the books are of help, then."
"Thank you, for going out of your way," Hermione looked at the ground. "Harry should have asked me first. I could have looked for the books myself…I know you're incredibly busy."
Minerva shook her head. "It took very little time out of my day, Hermione. I'm glad to be of assistance."
"Is this your attempt at a bribe, Headmistress?" Hermione asked, adopting her playful commentary once more.
"I suppose if it were a bribe, books would be a most excellent choice." They arrived at the entrance to Minerva's quarters.
Minerva ushered Hermione to sit on the chesterfield while she grabbed a pair of tumblers and the decanter from her cabinet. She poured generously and offered one to her guest before sitting. "Your overnight belongings as well as the books are waiting on you just round the corner, adjacent my quarters."
Hermione took the tumbler. "Thank you, and I shall have to extend my gratitude to Aila in the morning, I'm sure."
On the note of house elves, Minerva became thoughtful. Drinking the amber liquid in her glass, she relished the lingering burn that always came alongside the first dredge. "If you've time tomorrow, I would like to show you where your quarters will be."
Hermione sipped from her glass, following Minerva's suit. The burn was warmer than she was accustomed to, but it wasn't unpleasant. "You'll hear no protest from me, although I had hoped to see Rose for breakfast." Minerva nodded her approval.
It was silent for a moment while the two women enjoyed their glasses. "Will Rose be staying with you over Christmas break while you are here setting up?" she questioned.
Hermione looked into her tumbler. "I believe she'll want to head home to see Hugo and Ron, of course," she sipped. "So it's only me."
Minerva, whose Scottish blood was conditioned to whisky, had polished off the contents of her glass. "I see. I'll try to make for pleasant company."
Unsure if it was the alcohol, Hermione became suddenly very sad. She wanted so much for all of this to be different. She could already feel herself becoming distracted and absorbed by her own emotions in regards to the school and its staff.
She forced a smile despite the disappointment that had just settled in her stomach. "I'm sure you'll be plenty busy, Headmistress. I'll try to stay off your radar for the most part."
Minerva had taken note of the subtle cue. Hermione hadn't used her name, and she was trying to regain her footing on the business end of why she was here. Minerva would be supportive of that, as it would leave no grey area in an already grey matter.
Glancing at the clock, Hermione drained her glass and sat it on the table. "I've had a lovely evening, and I can't thank you enough for your hospitality and the books, of course."
Minerva stood, readying herself to walk Hermione to the door. "Likewise, Hermione. I do hope you sleep well."
"I'm thoroughly and wonderfully exhausted, and the whisky should help," Hermione smiled, stepping through the door. "Good night, Minerva."
"Good night, Hermione." Minerva waited for the younger witch to turn down the hall before moving to close the door to her quarters.
She poured one glass more and sat at her desk. Minerva sighed. As tired as she was, these letters weren't going to answer themselves.
Around the corner, Hermione had untied the thread keeping the books together. As tired as she was, they weren't going to read themselves.
AN: This is where I shamelessly ask you to review the chapter. ;) Hope you enjoyed.