Chapter 14
With a sense of trepidation, Hermione stepped forward. Her movements were slow and exceedingly cautious as fingers gently pushed open the door, "…Minerva?" She called out into the room as she past the entry way and small sitting area; the boundary of how far she had entered into the venerable woman's domain prior to now.
"Minerva…" Again, her voice rang through the air, as she stepped into the spacious living room, barely noticing the rich splendor of the décor as her eyes scanned area…the bookcases lining the walls, the chairs by the fire, the empty bottles of Og's Nectar littering the coffee table…her stomach dropping at the notion of what that meant. With seeming aching slowness, she darted forward; heart pounding in her veins at what she'd find as she stepped around the back of the chesterfield.
There, in an uncomfortable looking, twisted position laid the very woman she had sought…appearing as anything, but the normally stately and venerable Minerva McGonagall. Her own panic subsided at seeing the gentle rise and fall of Minerva's chest; and she realized that Minerva had drank herself in unconsciousness. The bottles on the table were all a clear indication, but the one lying upon the floor partially full gave Hermione an idea at exactly how determined the Headmistress had been at trying to lose consciousness. Brown eyes flickered back to the slumbering woman, her robes were untidy and wrinkled…ebony hair askew as it framed her face, making her already pale skin if at all possible, whiter…and the dark circles beneath her eyes seemed as though she had two black eyes. It was far too apparent that the woman lying before her was anything but alright; especially given the pallor of her skin and her slight weight Hermione had noted the day before.
She needs help, Hermione thought as she stepped around the table pulling her wand out. She concentrated on spells she hadn't used in what felt like a lifetime, and transfigured the chesterfield into a bed; another flick and her robes became an emerald green set of loungewear. And Hermione felt her breath catch as the thickness of the clothing was replaced by thin silken attire; showing how thin Minerva had become. Minerva…shifted, absently reaching and Hermione darted forward thinking she needed a pillow; and upon leaning over…cool fingers touched her forearm.
"…Ame…lia…?" Her raspy lilt breaking the stillness.
The word no was on the tip of her lips; but Minerva had rolled over, already back asleep.
"Amelia?" Hermione quietly reiterated as she sat down next to the elder woman, who innately shifted closer to her warmth wondering if the person Minerva mentioned was Amelia Bones and who that was to her. If she was lucky…she'd find out.
With a sigh, she summoned a blanket…and was moderately surprised to see an emerald green afghan float forward and into her outstretched hand. She'd always figured her for Gryffindor colors. Flipping the wrap open, she covered both her and Minerva's legs; before settling in for a few hours when Minerva rejoined the land of the conscious.
And…she steeled her nerves for the cold reception she was sure to receive when Minerva awoke; not sure if she could possibly prepare her for what awaited her.
Oxox
A/N: Going to really try to update a snippet a day. Hope you enjoyed!