Chapter 33

Hermione had expected Minerva to once more be working in the main entry area repairing the tapestries, portraits, flags and sundry other artifacts. However, much to her surprised, Minerva wasn't there. Nor was she in the Great Hall, which immediately upon entry, caused Hermione's shoulders to bow and tears prick at her eyes at the picture of devastation laid out before her.

The concerted effort upon the main entry way in conjunction with the area immediately surrounding Minerva's quarters had enabled her to forget the gravity of destruction that had befallen Hogwarts; and the effort that would be required to repair the great castle to its former glory.

She quickly extrapolated what the volume of outstanding repairs would mean for Minerva; and how long it would take to achieve them, and Hermione's concern from last evening flared to a new level. As it had become painfully obvious over the last two days that Minerva was operating on willpower and determination alone; as she had no reserves. The morning before last when Minerva had altered the curse Bellatrix had etched into her skin; she had fallen asleep for the better part of the afternoon – and while Hermione was assured it had taken a great deal of skill and magic, she also knew that the woman who had taught her for six years would normally not have been so affected, which begged the question – how affected or perhaps tired, was Minerva?

"Krecher." She called out, moderately surprised at the expediency in which he arrived.

"We are most busy," he snapped, "what is it that you be needing help with?"

"Do you or has any of the house elves know where Minerva is working today?"

"She is in the kitchen helping to reconnect the cooling units." Yellow eyes met hers, "Are you joining us?"

Hermione found herself nodding, and before she could blink she felt his magic wash over her; and then she was standing at the kitchen's entry as a flurry of magic burst across the walls immediately drawing her gaze to the source – Minerva, and several elves.

She watched as the wall began to mend, the stone slowly becoming erect as the black charring vanished; before Minerva broke the spell off after three meters, the fatigue evident in her posture and lines of her face. Two elves replaced the ones beside Minerva, their dainty arms lifting as Minerva raised her wand again – momentarily stopping as she absently wiped the left side of her face with the sleeve of her robe; and then a quiet count echoed out – "Three, two, one." And the event from before repeated; the wall becoming reconstructed for approximately three meters before all parties stopping, and two more elves began to take their predecessors place.

"Perhaps," Hermione said stepping into the kitchen to make herself known, causing a flurry of heads and eyes to turn to her, "I can swap places with you." She stated, eyes remaining on Minerva, "And you can take a break too."

Minerva paused in lifting her arms to once again begin the process over as she met the younger woman's unrelenting gaze, "I see that you are feeling refreshed this afternoon."

Hermione nodded as a smile pulled on her lips, "I am, which means I think I can give you a break for several minutes and perhaps you'll have a refreshment and a bite of chocolate in the interim."

Xoxo

Hermione had taken longer in the shower, the warm water having felt heavenly on her back and shoulders after spending the whole of the afternoon repairing the kitchen walls and three of the dry storage rooms. She hadn't realized how large the kitchens were; nor the side rooms that were required for not only dry goods, but dishes, flatware, cookware, pots and pans, and then the refrigeration space and the cellars for various beverages.

She eased a pair of shorts on and shirt, wrapping her robe about her frame before wandlessly drying her hair and easily braiding the end. She shrunk her previously worn clothes, placing them in her robe's pocket; the end of her new nightly ritual have been reached, she opened the door – expecting Minerva to have already gone to bed; and was surprised to see her in the living room.

Minerva's head didn't turn nor lift at her entrance, but Hermione could easily see that she had yet to take a shower; her robes still covered in dust and soot from the kitchens. She opened her mouth to ask if everything was alright, but felt the words die on her lips as she stepped closer and was able to see the side of Minerva's face along with the tear streaks lacing her cheeks. At once, Hermione scanned across Minerva's figure and saw the letter resting in her lap along with a bottle of Og's Nectar already half gone.

"Want to talk about it?" Hermione quietly asked as she stepped around the chesterfield and sat next Minerva.

Minerva tiredly banished the letter, "Not particularly," she finally uttered as she reached for the tumbler she had only just refilled prior to Hermione coming from the bathroom.

Hermione tried not to take Minerva's comment personally, knowing that while they may have crossed into the friend's category – Minerva was exceedingly private, and probably rarely discussed what was going on with her or her personal affairs to anyone except her closest friend's. But it didn't mean that her response didn't bother Hermione. Quite the opposite, and it took a great deal of effort not to react negatively to Minerva's brusque response as she jokingly replied, "That's good. I didn't want to either." She reached over the back of the chesterfield and wandlessly summoned a glass, "But I did want to share your bottle of Og's nectar."

A hint of mirth finally pierced emerald eyes as she lifted solemn features to peer at Hermione, "And you think I'll share?"

Hermione's fingers wrapped around the cool glass as she turned to meet conflicting eyes, the double meaning not lost on either as she breathed out an answer from her heart, "I can only hope."

Xoxo

Minerva removed the cap from the bottle and took a hefty draught before summoning the courage to conjure the letter back to her as the shafts of moonlight spilled over her robes while the gentle lapping of the water along the lake's shoreline helped to soothe her battered emotions.

Narrowing her eyes, she once more read the harrowing letter; her heart sinking farther with each word absorbed a second time.

There had been no mistake. She hadn't misread it, she morosely thoughts as the letters began to blur as she forced herself to finish the letter to its conclusion before setting the paper to her side and permitting the tears to once more fall unbidden down her cheeks.

She was alone.

Xoxo

a/n: Hope you enjoyed!