A/N: I short update, but important. And a good bit of drama, for those of you who have been waiting. My other favorite is coming up next!
As Mary McSweeney came pelting towards Harry, his face quickly adapted a comical portrait of shock as she pushed through the rest of their classmates, ignoring Hermione's worried eyes, and stopped directly in front of him to speak. In any other situation Minerva would have felt terrible for surprising him in such a way, but as it was, she completely ignored his look of frightened bewilderment, "Harry, I need to use your broom," she said plainly, her voice cracking slightly.
"Are you alright?" He asked, confused.
"Please Harry, I know we've only just met, but you understand far better than most that sometimes, you just need to fly. Please, may I use your broom?"
She watched as he studied her carefully, but something in her eyes must have told him he could trust her, told him that she needed this. He nodded slowly and she thanked him before shooting up the stairs. Sharing a brief look, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all followed quickly behind her.
Opening the door to the boy's dormitory, Hermione let out a scream as she watched Minerva dive headfirst out the window of the tower, into the pouring rain.
Harry and Ron's shock completely overtook them when Hermione suddenly summoned Ron's broom from their closet, "Hermione, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" Harry shouted, but his question was ignored as she shot out the window without hesitation.
Hermione had never feared much, she supposed that made it easy to be a Gryffindor, but she feared heights. She feared heights, and falling, and landing. She feared brooms, airplanes, towers, and balloons, all of it. And yet, like any true Gryffindor would, she met her fear that night and she beat it.
Somewhere in her mind, she felt laughter stir at the cliché of it all. Rain was pelting her from all directions as she sped after the unhinged girl, the epitome of drama, but that didn't bother her. What bothered her was the small blob eighty feet below her, who had yet to pull up from her dive— who had yet to even mount her broom.
Hermione flattened herself against the flimsy piece of wood, mirroring Harry exactly. She could only hope that years of watching could help her somehow in this situation. Finally, with fifty feet left to fall, Minerva mounted her broom, angled out of her dive, and shot off towards the lake.
Hermione tried to do the same thing, mirror the same grace, but she nearly fell off three times before she actually managed to change direction entirely. It was close for her, too close, but she made it. She kept herself flat against the broom, desperately urging it faster—despite knowing that the Firebolt was the fastest broom in the world.
Hermione followed as closely as she could, praying that her friend wouldn't do anything foolish—anything more foolish than jumping off of the second highest tower at Hogwarts. She had flown for nearly forty-five minutes before Mary slowed down, and by that point Hermione's back was burning, her thighs were on fire, and her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
She nearly cried when Mary finally landed, and attempted to land beside her. Instead she crashed into the ground some ways away, and thanked Merlin that she hadn't broken Ron's broom in the process. Limping heavily, she hurried towards the area where Mary had landed.
Soaked through her clothing, bruised, limping and in complete shock, Hermione shouted, "What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?"
Mary jumped at the sound of her voice, obviously not having seen Hermione following. Eyeing the broom in Hermione's hand her face took on a comically shocked appearance, "You… you followed me?"
"Of course I damn well followed you, you crazy bint!" Hermione swore, "I couldn't just let you jump out of a window and disappear!"
"Hermione, you don't even know how to fly, you failed your flying lessons." she whispered, completely shocked.
"I'm aware!" Hermione roared. "Now please answer me, as I repeat this pretty basic question…. What the bloody hell did you think you were doing jumping out of the fucking tower?!"
It was doubtful that either would ever be able know who was more shocked in that moment, Minerva, upon discovering that Hermione had jumped out of a tower, somehow survived it, and was now swearing at her—or Hermione, when "Mary" threw herself into her arms sobbing.
Hermione caught the girl and sunk towards the ground, her own trembling legs unable to hold them anymore, "It's okay," she whispered shakily, letting go of her anger quickly. "Whatever it is, it's going to be okay."
Mary sobbed uncontrollably, and though Hermione tried to understand, it was difficult. Mary was sorry, that much she kept repeating. Sorry for scaring Hermione, sorry for endangering her, and sorry for a whole myriad of other reasons. On top of that, she just kept saying that she had tried not to panic.
Hermione didn't know exactly what Mary had planned not to panic about, but whatever it was, she had obviously failed. "Mary," she whispered finally, "were you just flying because you were trying to release your stress—or, or were you trying to hurt yourself?"
Mary looked up at her quickly, "Hermione, I wasn't—I wouldn't ever. I just, I was upset, I wasn't thinking clearly. I'm so sorry."
Hermione sighed heavily, she was just relieved that they were both still alive, "It's alright Mary," she whispered tiredly, "I mean, it's not alright. You damn well better not do anything like that ever again. But I forgive you."
She hugged Mary again, desperately clinging to her, "Is it alright if we go inside now?"
Mary nodded, "I don't suppose you want to fly?"
Hermione shook her head quickly, "Never again."
Hermione shot off a patronus to the boys, as they began their trek back towards the Castle. Minerva had nearly reached the main gates when she stopped.
Minerva watched her former student carefully, worrying for her. Hermione was staying strong, trying to take care of Mary, but she was shaking from head to toe, and had obviously hurt herself when she landed. She limped heavily, and was holding her arm gingerly. She was also shivering violently because of the rain.
Minerva had never been so ashamed in her life. She had completely lost control after leaving Albus. As hard as she had tried to focus and force herself to keep functioning, for some reason, it didn't work. She had fallen into an overwhelming anxiety attack, which somewhere in her mind told her flying was the only answer. Hermione was lucky not to have died during that dive—it had taken Minerva nearly eight years to master that dive, and she had been considered an expert flyer because of it.
Why the hell couldn't I control myself? She thought bitterly, and why had she broken down when Hermione finally caught her? Where was the carefully built self-control, and the powerful mask? When has she been reduced to a whimpering child?
The answer was clear—it was the potion. Just as she had told Albus, it hadn't only taken away her age physically, but made it more difficult for her to function mentally. Given her back the frequent mood swings and irrational decisions of the average teenage girl.
Lovely.
Not only that, but her irrationality had nearly killed her closest friend—student. Her student. Minerva groaned audibly and raked a hand through her tangled hair. This was all far too confusing. Hermione looked back at her, "What happened?" she asked quietly, and Minerva knew that she was asking what had set her off.
Minerva shook her head, "I don't know." It was the truth; she didn't know what had happened, not really. Sure, she could tell Hermione the truth about the potion, about who she really was. But that didn't explain the bout of insanity which just occurred. "I was upset; I don't really want to talk about that. But I was upset, and I…I don't know. I just lost it."
Hermione nodded, "I've had those moments," she responded quietly, and Minerva was left wondering what those moments had been. "Mary—I've only known you for a week, but I like you. Really. I apparently like you enough to jump from a tower for you. Please, please don't do something like that again. Selfishly, I don't want to have to chase you again, and we both know I will. So please don't do it again, okay?"
"I won't," she croaked, and Hermione nodded, apparently satisfied.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, both mulling over their respective experiences, and when they reached the Fat Lady she opened up without asking for the password, too shocked from the rain drenched picture they painted.
"I'm going to go to bed," Mary whispered, making her way up the stairs without a response, and Hermione stared after her, shaking her head slightly.
Ron and Harry ran for her, Hermione handed Ron the brooms blankly and Harry engulfed her in hug.
"You're okay," he breathed, "Thank god, you're okay."
Hermione let him hug her tightly, and tried desperately to stifle the tears which threatened to overflow. Harry looked over her shoulder to Ron, who nodded in return, and Harry led her back out of the common room, and down to a deserted stairwell—the one they had sat together in on the night that Ron and Lavender began dating.
As they sat down, Hermione lost her barely kept composure. Heavy, unattractive sobs wracked from her body as he held her to him. "It's okay, Hermione. You're okay."
He cast a quick drying charm on her clothing and hair, and rubbed her back as she hiccoughed slightly. "I was so scared, Harry," she whispered brokenly, "So scared."
"Did you find out why she did it?" he asked softly, but Hermione shook her head.
"She didn't want to talk about it, but I don't think she'll do it again. She was upset about something, something big. Maybe her parents," Hermione muttered, "Afterwards, she was more upset that she had endangered me than anything else, she couldn't believe I followed her."
"Why did you follow her, Hermione?" Harry asked carefully, not wanting to upset her more.
Hermione just shook her head, "I don't know Harry, I just did it."
Harry hugged her closer and kissed her hair lightly, "Hermione, I love you. You really are a sister to me—not like a sister, you are a sister to me. Hell, you're more than that. I thought you were going to die, you can barely hover on a broom and then you just jumped out of a window with one… Please don't do that again."
Hermione laughed darkly, "I don't plan on it Harry."
Harry looked at her closely, "You know, you once told me I have a saving people thing. I think you have one too," Hermione nodded quietly; "You would do it again, wouldn't you?"
Hermione nodded again, and Harry sighed. "I suppose I can't blame you," he whispered.
"I can't believe we didn't die," she said, the shock still evident in her tone. "I can't believe I pulled out of that dive."
"It's official," Harry grinned, "You're good at everything."
Hermione laughed and swatted his arm, "I am not."
Harry smiled fondly at her, and paused for a moment. Taking a breath, he said, "Can I ask you something Hermione?"
She nodded, her eyes still staring off.
"You care about her don't you?" he asked softly.
Hermione looked up at him, "What do you mean?" she asked.
He raised an eyebrow at her, "Don't play dumb, Hermione."
She sighed, "She's a very nice person."
"And a very smart person and a very good looking person…" Harry continued, causing Hermione to glare.
"I don't know her well enough to be sure about anything—it's only been a week."
"You went flying with her—voluntarily."
Hermione blushed deeply, "I was feeling in the moment."
Harry laughed, "And you blush every time I mention her."
"She's just a nice person," Hermione argued.
"You like her," Harry insisted.
Hermione's blush grew, "And if I did?" she asked quietly.
He shoved her shoulder playfully, "Then I would say that is far too soon to be caring about someone you only just met." Hermione stuck out her tongue, and Harry laughed. "Hermione, I just want you to be happy, Ron too. And I don't care if that is alone, or with a man, woman, or centaur," he joked, "I just want you happy. She seems wonderful, aside from the suicidal tower-jumping thing. And she seems to inspire you to have some fun, which is good. Goodness knows Ron and I need help with that."
"You really mean all of that, Harry?" Hermione asked, and he nodded. "I'm not in love with her or something, I barely know her. There's just something about her which feels familiar, and safe, and which I like very much. And it doesn't hurt that she's brilliant and gorgeous," Hermione laughed.
"Hermione and Mary sitting in a tree," Harry sang, causing Hermione to swat him on the arm again.
"Shush you."
Thank you for reading, and all of your kind reviews so far! I would LOVE to know what you think of this chapter! Thanks!