As per a surprising amount of interest in this story, I'm continuing it. I'm going to maintain the "Complete" marking, because it's my intention that each addition to the fic will be able to be considered a conclusion. Each new chapter, whenever they happen, with both answer questions from the previous chapter, as well as create a new series of questions that could be answered in the following update, but don't necessarily HAVE to be answered in order to make this fic seem finished. This update deals more with Hermione's history, versus the assault on Minerva. Hope you enjoy.

It had been just shy of four months since Minerva had been raped on the eve of the Battle of Hogwarts. There had been good days, and bad days. There had been moments one would never have suspected anything was amiss, and other days in which it was all Hermione Granger could do to keep Minerva from utterly falling apart. With a sigh, the young witch crawled out of her bed, and walked out of the bedroom that four months prior, had belonged to no one but Minerva's overflow of books. A few weeks after the battle, Hermione had asked the older witch if she was ready to have her space back, and though Minerva had agreed she was at the time, less than a week later Hermione had moved back into the older witch's quarters, where she had remained all summer long.

Hermione could hear Minerva screaming in the room down the hall, undoubtedly having another nightmare. As usual, the brunette crawled into bed with her former Professor upon reaching her side, and hold her until morning. Well, in today's case, as it was already just past five-thirty, and the sun was starting to rise, she very much doubted either of them would go back to sleep. "Minerva," she said, laying her hand on the shaking figure's arm.

Suddenly, Minerva was still, and her eyes flew open, seeking the face that went to the only voice that comforted her anymore. "Hermione…" she breathed.

"You were dreaming," Hermione stated, wrapping her arm around the ebony haired witch from behind. "I'm here."

"You always are," came the usual reply. Hermione didn't know if Minerva said that because she was surprised, if she needed a vocal assurance of the fact, or if it was just a statement of fact. It didn't really matter, Hermione supposed. Minerva knew how she felt, and if their one shared kiss four months ago was anything to go by, the older witch felt the same.

"Students return this evening," Hermione reminded her.

To the shock of nearly everyone, Hermione had elected not to return to Hogwarts as a student. She would be remaining in the castle, however, as a Professor's assistant, and spend this term working under Severus Snape for a Potions Mastery. Minerva, to the surprise of no one, would remain at Hogwarts, though now she was Headmistress, and Filius would be her deputy. Minerva had wanted Severus to be deputy, as he'd already been Headmaster for a year, but the Board wouldn't hear of it. It had taken all of Minerva's influence to get the Governors to even allow Severus to return to teach - the condition of which was that he would only be doing so for the year required to train Hermione to take his place.

"Severus will be wanting to see you directly following breakfast. He said so when I ran into him last evening on my way here." Minerva sighed. "I wonder what he wants."

"Well I doubt he's wanting to instruct me in the ways to woo a Professor," Hermione teased, kissing the older witch's temple. "Something related to Potions, I expect."

"Incorrigible witch," Minerva mumbled, leaning back and snuggling securely into her former student's embrace.

"So what was the dream this time?" Hermione asked after a minute. She knew it helped the green eyed witch to talk through her nightmares, though she would never do so without prompting. So, Hermione would of course prompt her.

"What happened to me…" Minerva said softly, shuddering. "...was happening to you. I was there, but bound and unable to help you."

Hermione winced. With nothing more than that for a description, her own fears of rape surfaced with a vengeance. Minerva knew something had happened to her, but not specifically what, or who had been her attacker. She'd withheld that information, not because she didn't trust Minerva with that secret, but because she knew how wounded the older witch still was, and worried that she would seek out and harm him.

Him, of course, being her uncle, who stayed with Hermione's family over the summer holiday, and anytime her parents were out, and she remained home, he would rape her. At first, he'd drugged her so there would be no struggle. That had been the summer before she turned twelve - the summer before she'd come to Hogwarts for the first time. The following year was the same, though the year following that, Hermione had gotten smart enough not to eat or drink anything her uncle had prepared. However, her struggling had not stopped him from raping her again that summer, nor did it stop him in the summers that followed. She never told her parents, as her Uncle had told him that if she did, he'd tell them it was her idea, and that if they knew, they wouldn't allow her to return to Hogwarts in the fall. She liked to hope they would believe her, over him, but she couldn't risk it. So, she let him have his way.

She couldn't say she really minded the idea of her bastard of an uncle coming to harm, after what he'd done to her, but she wouldn't let Minerva get in trouble for it. If he ever met a sticky end, it would be at her own hand. In fact...today was a good a day as any to do so. She could speak with Severus after breakfast, and still have several hours to spare before students arrived for start of term. Besides, she wanted to see her parents…

"Hermione, what are you thinking about?" Minerva asked, breaking her away from her thoughts.

"Oh, was just wondering if I'd have time to go see my parents today," she replied.

"I'm sure you would. I could come with you, if you like, as you did assist me with the last of my paperwork last evening" the older witch offered.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'll...I'll be fine on my own."

Minerva raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Hermione wasn't stupid - she knew that her former Professor was now very aware that something was going on, though she also knew Hermione well enough to know that she'd say no more on the matter. "Very well," she said, crawling out of bed and heading toward the suite's bathroom. "Give them my regards though, will you?"

"Of course," Hermione whispered, frowning. She hadn't meant to push Minerva away like that. She just...had to do this...on her own… and didn't fancy waiting till next summer. Her uncle would be returning to his home in Ireland tonight. He always stayed till September the first...just long enough to make sure she was off to school and therefore not able to try and tell on him.

Minerva crouched low to the ground, observing Hermione's approach to her childhood home. Though normally, being in her Animagus form would allow her approach more closely without being noticed, she wasn't going to take the chance that Hermione would stop her; not after the young woman had more or less ordered her to not come visit her parents with her.

John and Jean Granger were dentists, whom Minerva had met several times, but really couldn't say she knew either of them well. An uncle of Hermione's, a muggle by the name of Andrew, also resided in the Granger home during the summer hols. Andrew, as Hermione had told it, was her father's uncle; a willowy, gaunt looking fellow with frizzy grey hair, glasses, and a surprisingly firm handshake, Minerva remembered. Why he came to stay every summer was something the older witch had always wondered about, and now, after her encounter with Hermione this morning, she had a fairly good guess.

Hermione had hinted, four months ago, that she too had been a victim of rape, though had refused to say who her attacker had been, other than the fact that she was exposed to him each summer, much like Harry Potter was exposed to the Dursley's each June, July, and August. From what Minerva knew of her former pupil's parents, she couldn't imagine either of them causing her undue harm; they'd tried long and hard to get her the first place, after all. Andrew, however, was decidedly...creepy.

The front door opened and Hermione leaned into her mother's embrace. Minerva, having scouted out the house before Hermione's arrival, lept up the trunk of a nearby tree, across a thick branch, and onto the sill of an upper floor window, which was conveniently cracked open. She let herself into what she believed was John's office, and then quietly padded her way down the hall, until she was positioned behind a Ficus tree at the top of the stairs. From here, she could see what was going on in the living room below.

"It's about time we see you, 'Mione," John stated, hugging his daughter. "Are you going to tell us why you've been holed up at that school all summer, now?"

"Dad," Hermione frowned. "I told you. I was helping a friend."

"All summer?" Jean inquired. "This person must be something special, if they can keep you away from home like that."

"She is," Hermione confessed, winning a look of incredulousness on her father's face, and a whoop of victory from her mother.

"I told you, John!" Jean grinned. "So, who is she? What's she like? Is she pretty?"

"Mum!" Hermione gaped. "How did you…"

"I'm your mother, Hermione," Jean said with a smile. "I'm supposed to know things. Like, for example, if her daughter prefers the company of other women, rather than men."

Hermione huffed. "Well, then. Her name is Minerva. She's smart, and caring, and Scottish…"

"Scottish is good!" Jean chuckled. "Bet she has a great accent."

Minerva listened on, amused. She was very interested in how much Hermione would tell them about her. Would Hermione be upfront with her parents about the fact that the woman she was interested in happened to be her former Professor?

"So, how'd you two meet?" John asked, having recovered from the shock that his wife had been correct in her assessment that their daughter was a lesbian.

"Well…" Hermione began.

She was saved by the bell, as it were, when her uncle made an entrance. "Hey 'Mione," he said. "How ya doin' darlin'?"

The young woman stiffened visibly, lending credence to Minerva's theory that Andrew was the one who had raped her.

"Uncle," she replied softly. "I was doing just fine till you walked in."

"Hermione!" Jean gasped. "What on earth would make you say such a rude thing?"

The youngest Granger straightened her back, and then reached up her sleeve to retrieve her wand. "Six summers worth of holding my tongue," she said firmly, raising her hand and pointing the wand toward her uncle.

Minerva transformed back into her human form quickly. "Hermione, don't!" she called from the top of the stairs, quickly walking down to the living room. Her own wand was in hand, prepared to disarm her former student if necessary. It almost made her sick to defend a man who had raped Hermione repeatedly, but she would not see the woman she was falling in love with go to Azkaban for him.

"I told you not to come, Minerva!" Hermione shouted, looking quite angry.

"Which is precisely why I felt I should," she countered. "As you've not left my side in four months, which means that whatever you were up to, it could not be good."

"Aren't you…" Jean started, looking intently at the woman who had just waltzed into her house without so much as a 'may I come in?' "Professor McGonagall?"

"I am," Minerva acknowledged. "Good to see you again, Mrs. Granger. Mr. Granger. I presume the pile of dragon dung Hermione has at wand point is Andrew."

"Now see here -" Andrew squeaked. "I shall not stand for threats from you, madam! Or you, Hermione!"

"You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!" Hermione seethed. "Don't you even speak to her!"

"What has gotten into you, Hermione?" John exclaimed.

"HE DID!"

"He did what, exactly?" John asked, looking suspiciously at his uncle.

After a full thirty seconds of tense silence, Minerva answered for Hermione. "He raped her."

"Seventeen times," Hermione elaborated, finding her tongue. "Over the course of six summers."

John and Jean both stared at Minerva for a moment, then at their daughter for another moment, before turning to look at the man they'd graciously allowed to stay in their home while he visited from America each summer.

"Andrew?" Jean finally asked. "Is this true?"

John's uncle didn't even have the good grace to look remorseful. "She asked for it!" he accused. "Waltzing around in those skimpy little outfits…"

"My bloody pajamas!" Hermione shouted.

"Oh my god," Jean whispered.

"You son of a bitch," John said, jaw clenched. "My daughter?"

Before Andrew knew what was coming, John had punched the older man squarely in the nose, knocking him out cold. "Phone the Bobbies, Jean. Before I kill him."

Minerva pulled Hermione into her arms, allowing the younger woman to cry against her breast. "It's over, darling," she whispered. "It's over."

The muggle Police came and took Andrew Granger away, to be tried for the rape of his great-niece. John and Jean invited Minerva to join the family for lunch, and when all was said in done, Hermione was glad Minerva had gone against her wishes and followed her home.

"So, Hermione," Jean said as she, Hermione, and Minerva worked to prepare the noontime meal, "Is this the woman who has caught your eye?"

Hermione smirked as Minerva ceased cutting up the vegetables. "Yes, mum," she replied simply.

"Good," Jean nodded. "I hoped as much."

Minerva turned and looked at Jean incredulously. "You hoped your daughter who be romantically interested in her much older, female, former Professor?"

"It's not like your ancient, Minerva," Jean huffed. "Hermione's always been so mature…"

"Mum…"

"I'm older than you!" Minerva objected.

"No way. You can't be more than forty…" Jean frowned.

"Try sixty-two," the older witch huffed.

"Mind you, mum," Hermione stepped in, "that witches age differently than muggles. In muggle terms, Minerva's just shy of forty."

"See?" Jean smiled. "As I'm fifty-five, you are still a good deal younger than I. Out of curiosity though, what's the formula for determining the muggle age equivalent of a witch or wizard?"

"We reach physical maturity at the age of seventeen, at which point we age at half the rate as a muggle," Minerva explained. "So if you take my age of sixty-two, minus seventeen, divided by two, and then add the seventeen back on, you get the physical age."

"So if I were a witch…" Jean asked.

"You'd appear about thirty-six," Minerva replied.

"Damn," the other woman sighed. "That's a nice perk to being a witch."

"You are a witch," John stated humorously, stepping into the kitchen. "My witch."

"Ha, ha, very funny, dear," his wife glared. "By the way John, Minerva is the lover that's Hermione was about to tell us about before the whole thing with Andrew…"

"Really?" he said, squinting at their guest. "Nice job, hun. Can't say you don't have good taste."

"Daddy!" Hermione yelped, blushing.

"She must have gotten her taste in lovers from you," Jean smirked. "As I'm quite the catch, too."

"Mum, about the lovers thing…" Hermione whispered, wanting to spare Minerva anymore embarrassment at the hands of her parents.

"Our relationship is quite new," Minerva stepped in. "Our feelings have been expressed, being given our respective histories and current social statuses, we've taking things quite slow."

"Social statuses?" John asked.

"Hermione's quite famous in the wizarding world," the older witch smirked. "Didn't you know?"

"Says the Headmistress of Hogwarts," Hermione countered.

"Headmistress!" Jean gasped. "Last Hermione said, you were just one of the Professors. Congratulations on your promotion!"

"She would have been Headmistress last year if it weren't for the war," Hermione said pointedly.

"Or Severus," Minerva added, nodding.

"Severus Snape, you mean?" John asked. "Nice bloke."

"You know Severus?" Minerva asked, puzzled.

"Yes," Jean replied with a smile. "He was our...what was it called, Hermione?"

"Secret keeper," the younger Granger female supplied, reaching into a cabinet to get dishes to set the table with. "I asked Professor Snape be be a Secret keeper for my parents before Harry, Ron and I went on the run last year."

"How did you know he was on our side?" Minerva asked incredulously. "I certainly wasn't sure one way or the other. I mean, I know Albus trusted him...but…"

"I knew he could occlude the fact from Voldemort if he wished to," Hermione stated. "Which made him a wise choice from the off. "I also had him make the Unbreakable Vow to keep them safe. In exchange for his efforts, I did what he could not last year."

"And that was…?"

"Keep Harry safe."

"Oh." Minerva huffed. "No wonder he took you on as an apprentice this year. You can be positively Slytherin when you want to."

Hermione grinned. "You do know Harry and I were both nearly sorted to Slytherin, don't you Minerva? Ron was the only one of us three that was a pure Gryffindor. Your one true cub."

"Oh bloody hell," Minerva muttered.

All three Grangers laughed.

After lunch with the Grangers, Minerva and Hermione returned to the castle. They had another two hours before the Hogwarts express would roll in, bringing with it several hundred students, some familiar, and others coming for the first time. "Let's go back to our quarters," Minerva suggested. "Maybe have a bit of a lie down before the students come and all hell breaks loose."

"Our quarters?" Hermione questioned with a small smile.

"Hermione, you've been living with me for four months, and we essentially told your parents today that we're dating. At this point, I'd say it's more than fair to call them our quarters."

The younger woman frowned. "It seems that now would be a good time to talk about that," she said. "I mean, I've made it clear how I feel about you, and you seem to be equally interested in pursuing a romantic relationship, but we haven't really talked about what that means."

"True," Minerva agreed as the pair stepped into the Headmistress' suite. "Dilly!"

A small, female House Elf appeared at once. "Yes, Headmistress?"

"Would you be so kind as to bring some tea and Ginger Newts for Hermione and I?"

"Of course, ma'am," Dilly replied. She vanished again at once, and by the time Minerva and Hermione had seated themselves on the loveseat in the den, a pot of tea, two cups, and a plate of Minerva's treasured Ginger Newts had arrived.

"So," Hermione started. "I've told you how I feel, but while you've seemingly welcomed my interest, you've not really expressed how you feel."

"Funny you say that," Minerva replied. "as had you asked me yesterday, I would have said, honestly, that I was unsure how I felt. I knew I felt something, but I wasn't certain I could call it love. However, when you raised your wand to Andrew this afternoon, I stopped you not because I didn't think he deserved to be cursed, or die for that matter, but rather because...I couldn't stand the thought of the woman I am falling in love with going to Azkaban for a creep like him. So… there you have it, Hermione. Despite every good reason to have pushed you away, or to push you away now...I find that I cannot, as I am falling in love with you."

Hermione leaned into the other woman's embrace. "Thank you," she whispered. "For loving me, and for stopping me. I did mean to kill him, you know."

"I understand," Minerva nodded. "Had Greyback not been killed during the battle, I would have sought him out… I would have killed him without even thinking twice."

"Andrew is going to jail, and Greyback is dead," Hermione murmured. "We both have pasts and hurts to deal with yet, but I want to walk that road with you; to help you, and for you to help me. As that is happening, I don't want to have to pretend I don't love you."

"You realize, of course," the older witch said pointedly, "that not everyone will be as accepting of a romance between us as your parents were. Potter...er… Harry, and Ronald… you run a risk of losing them just for being with me."

"They'll understand," Hermione replied with certainty. "After all we've been through… I can't imagine them not being supportive. They may not like it, they probably won't understand it, but they'll accept it. What about the other Professors?"

Minerva laughed. "I'm their boss. What are they going to do? Tease me?"

Next chapter you can expect scenes with Severus (who, while HG/MM is my OTP, remains my favorite character in all of Harry Potter).

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