Chapter 7

Sighing, Minerva set her half emptied glass down on her end table and stood, hair tumbling down her back. She vaguely thought about braiding it or placing it back into her all too familiar bun; but knew that it was either Filius, Pomona or Argus and her hair was the least of her concerns this afternoon. Taking a deep breath she opened the door and felt her world stop at seeing…

Hermione stared into red-rimmed startled emerald eyes, whose hair was cascading down around an ashen, tired face but with the all too familiar lines of her jaw, cheekbones, lips… "Ahhh…Professor McGonagall."

Minerva forced her scattered thoughts immediately into their typical logical order, "…Miss Granger." She subtly cleared her throat and withdrew a step to immediately increase the space between them. "What can I help you with?"

Hermione took note of the Professor's…the woman's abrupt change in both body language and cadence. She, herself, had been surprised to see McGonagall with such an open expression upon her face and hair down upon arriving; and now…she was 'closing' up. "I…" She cleared her throat, suddenly uncomfortable at her own decision to come here. What had she been thinking…? Why had she come? And then her eyes locked with McGonagall's, noticing redness and light swelling, and her own self doubt and discomfort regarding her coming here dissipated. "Actually came here to see how you are doing?"

Minerva's calculating brain was brought to an immediate halt by the side-bending question that she had not expected to hear from the young woman standing in her doorway. And she responded by rote, voice level, eyes appearing sincere but now heavily guarded. "Fine, albeit a bit tired from the activities over the last few days."

Hermione couldn't help but inwardly smile at McGonagall's simplistic way of describing the past week, 'activities.' It made it seem…easy, light…and not at all as it truly had been; from the battle at Hogwarts to the non-stop funerals or the shattered remnants of the prestigious school. However, despite the carefree almost jubilance being expressed, Hermione knew that was not the case. But…how to address it without the woman before her retreating farther away than she already had merely by opening the door? "I was just…" A deep warmth emerged from brown depths, "Concerned. From what I have seen and surmised, you have been to every funeral and going nonstop since the Battle and…well…" Hermione felt the words stumble upon her lips as the elder witch's green gaze, hardened. "Just wanted to make sure that you were, alright."

Minerva bit back a harsh retort, knowing that Granger's motives were sincere and the last thing she needed was to give the poor young woman anything else to worry about given how the last two weeks had been on her too. Instead, she feigned a smile, forcing it to seem sincere as it was not Miss Granger's fault that her own nerves and cordiality had been pushed past her reserves over the last week. Well past them. And…now…there was someone at her home…invading the few scant hours of sanctity and solitude before she had to once again be what everyone needed her to be; the iconic Minerva McGonagall. Undoubtedly she saw me when she returned back to the grave site…The thought line made her pause, leaving her to wonder why Hermione had returned. Was it out of obligation? Were she and Mr. Creevey closer than mere housemates? She ceased that line of thinking instantly, now she was being irrational; Granger had been and would be with Weasley, unless the young man had done something incredibly foolish. Which, after everything they had been through, would have to be momentous. No, she reasoned, that wasn't it; but then…what had caused her to return? "As I said, it has been a long week." She reiterated hoping to quell the young woman's curiosity. "And the coming weeks look to be equally as long. And while I appreciate your concern, Miss Granger, it is not warranted."

Hermione knew that the Headmistress' words were sincere as it had been a long week; and she would be facing a summer's worth of them as she prepared for the coming year while filling staff positions and rebuilding Hogwarts; however the redness around her eyes indicated that she was anything but alright. And Hermione was again reminded of why she had forever looked up to the iconic woman before her; as she was stalwart, brave, incredibly intelligent, unyielding…the lighthouse upon the stormy shores...and seemingly unendingly resilient. But the stark truth was that she was not an icon, nor invincible as people believed; she was as mortal as Dumbledore and as human. "Perhaps not wanted, nor inclined by one such as me, but…" Her voice became softer, "Definitely warranted and needed." She drew herself upright and began to take a step away, "I am sorry for disturbing you Professor. And I hope…" Her gaze flicked to the left of McGonagall's shoulder and then back, "That the weight of the summer eases and I would be most happy to assist you and the staff in rebuilding before the start of term if you find you have need."

Minerva had been expecting a rebuttal, prepared to offer her own that stated she was indeed fine, and found herself momentarily at another loss as the young woman had surprised her, again. Not that it would be hard as of late, as it took far too much energy to pick up her feet as she needed and found herself to be…rather flat-footed of late and caught off guard more times than she could count. Particularly once she returned to Hogwarts, then again, this was the first day since the Battle that she had not already finished off a bottle of nectar by this hour of the day and was well into her second one. "The weight will ease," She murmured more to herself than to Granger, "As with most things, it merely takes time."

Hermione frowned, "Excuse me?"

Minerva shook her head, "I fear I was merely prattling," She feigned a smile, "I do thank you for your concern…" She paused debating and found the word far easier than perhaps it should have been, or perhaps it was the alcohol already consumed, but it truly didn't matter as it left her lips surrounded in her Scottish lilt. "Hermione. And as for Hogwarts, I shall know within two weeks time the extent of the damage and let you know then."

"Then you haven't done a full assessment?" Hermione asked, slightly stunned. She would have sworn on her Hogwarts A History book that McGonagall would have already done an assessment regarding the areas of damage and estimated length of repair for each section.

Green eyes narrowed, at the young woman's perception. "I have." She answered simply, choosing not to elaborate.

"Then why two weeks?" Hermione questioned.

Because I wish to lay in a stupor for the better part of one week hoping that this all has been a horrid dream and I shall wake to find myself ensconced in Amelia's arms thankful that this nightmare has finally ended, she answered to herself. "The world, including the Professors', need a measure of time to heal."

"Then I look forward to hearing from you." Hermione stated.

Minerva nodded, "Will you be staying at the Burrow?"

Brown eyes instantly darkened, "No." She said a little too sharply, drawing a raised brow from the Headmistress. "If you could send my correspondence to my parents, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Very well." Minerva replied, "I shall send an owl as the preparations take form."

"Take care." Hermione stated, but paused remembering Dumbledore's odd request. "Ohh…" She cleared her throat and felt her cheeks flush as she continued on. "When I came here, I stopped by the Head of Hogwarts suite and…Dumbledore's portrait asked…"

Minerva's brows crinkled, "Albus spoke with you?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, he told me where to find you."

Strange. Minerva thought while she coaxed Hermione to continue on, "And…?"

"He asked…that…well…" Hermione fought off the odd wave of discomfort she felt, and stepped forward…embracing the elder woman. "That I give you a hug." She finished as McGonagall stiffly returned the gesture.

It was an awkward hug that lasted for a scant moment, but…it was enough to tell Hermione that the woman's frame was smaller and held less weight than she imagined. And as they pulled apart, a faint mix of lavender and vanilla grace her senses. Before a thick brogue cut through her thoughts.

"Damn old meddling coot." Minerva murmured as she stepped back, a pale light flickering in the depths of her emerald eyes. "But I thank you for the endearment and message."

Pink cheeks smiled, "Good evening Headmistress."

"And to you, Hermione." She replied, feeling momentarily lighter than she had in days. "And please," Hermione paused, turning half around. "Simply Minerva will do."

"Very well, simply Minerva." Hermione chided.

Minerva closed the door to her chambers, a smile truly upon her lips as she shook her head at both Albus' meddling antics and the young woman whom he had carry them out…and how incorrigible they both were.

Xoxox

A/N: The second half of my productivity from yesterday. Unlike my other ongoing stories, this one isn't riddled with angst. I know, I know…you are scratching your head going, is that really true or is she waiting to spring it on us later. The answer is simple; this story is just a plain old-fashioned romance story, well as old-fashioned as you can get in the Harry Potter world after a war…after…well you get the point ;) So hope you continue to enjoy, and see you soon.