Chapter 17
Head thrumming with her pulse, Minerva raised the heel of her hand to her temple and forehead. She needed a headache draught. However, the sharp acrid aroma instantly met her and with bleary eyes she met the new day.
She had gotten sick last eve. Not only could she smell the foul remnants, it explained why her stomach felt as if something had died within it.
She'd need to eat a small bite before ingesting the draught. Dropping her hand, she pushed the linens away, and felt the smooth material slid down in a far more tactile way…
Glancing down confirmed her thought, she had banished her clothing last eve. I must have gotten sick and banished my clothes before going to bed, she thought sitting fully upright as the world momentarily spun before righting itself again.
Grabbing the edge of the bed, she pushed herself upward and padded to the bathroom. The light instantly flickered on, cascading across the expanse and her eyes involuntarily narrowed at the seemingly bright light. Green eyes gazed upon her reflection as they adjusted to the light, and a heavy sigh fell from her lips at how…tired and well…old she looked. The last year had taken a hellacious toll upon her. She was little more than a skeleton having lost close to thirty pounds, granted, she could stand to have lost a few…but thirty. Hardly. There was no extra weight, only skin, bone and what remained of her muscle. She could easily count her ribs without taking a breath or see the top of her hips; and then there were the scars. The Carrow brothers had…left their mark. Several…
She ran a hand along her left arm just above the elbow where Alecto had tried to sever it; however, much to his disdain, her reflexes had saved not only her limb but her life. And in return, given him an equally memorable mark.
Shaking her head at the memory, she paused and peered at the exposed cabinet. "I don't remember…" She muttered stepping a bit closer…and a vague memory of her leaning over the commode last evening and someone flushing…
Her eyes widened, and without thought, she grabbed her robe spinning around. Arms rapidly sliding through the fabric, instantly tying the belt two steps before she strode out of her bedroom and came to an abrupt halt as her vision morphed enabling her to see the slumbering woman upon the transfigured bed.
She hadn't left.
Minerva felt her head tip back, tears burning against the back of her eyes, Just great. She thought, trying to recall exactly what had happened last eve, and how she was going to deal with the fallout from her momentary lack of control. Control she couldn't bring herself to want to put in place. She wasn't ready. She needed more time. She wasn't prepared to let the world rest upon her shoulders as she donned the title Headmistress of Hogwarts, stalwart, resilient, war hero…, and Merlin knew what else behind her name. She still needed to just be…Minerva without the bloody McGonagall.
A faint whimper pulled her thoughts away from her own turbulence, her eyes refocusing upon Hermione. She could see how the muscles along her neck strained, jaw clenching as fingers tightened around the edge of the sheet. Minerva needed no prompting, her feet already carrying her forward. She knew those signs. After all, she had lived through three wars. And the nightmares that follow were sometimes worse than the events.
With the grace of her feline counterpart, Minerva sat next to Hermione. A fleeting notion swept over her consciousness that now – this morning was not the best time to try and help another when she…was still trying to find her own way back from the brink after this last war. However, she was already reaching forward, left hand gently wrapping around her right one…while her right one brushed back locks of sweaty hair from her face. "You're safe, Hermione." She whispered, "You're safe…"
Brown eyes shot open, pupils widening and focusing as she wildly looked up into green pools. The thick Scottish lilt rarely heard over the length of her tenure while at Hogwarts, soothingly whispering that she was safe. And she leaned forward, burying her head in to another's warmth…lavender and vanilla sweeping over her; her fingers clutching the fabric as her heart hammered against her ribs, the last vestiges of her nightmare disappearing…as gentle circles caressed her back and fingers combed through her hair…
Xoxo
A/N: Hope you enjoyed.