Chapter 43

On some level, Minerva was certain she heard the words being spoken, but she also knew, that she'd never be able to recite them back, because hearing them and recounting were two very different processes. And her mind was not upon her whereabouts as the voice droned on, but rather, having drifted back to her youth. Or rather, their youth. And while plagued with the looming war on the horizon, it hadn't meant that they, along with their other brother, hadn't enjoyed themselves.

They had.

Immeasurably.

Long days swimming in the loch, followed by even longer nights as they practiced their spell work next to the bonfire. Everything had seemed simple then. Carefree.

And then World War II erupted across Europe along with Grindlewald and everything changed.

Except their love for each other.

And even those bonds had been tested to the brink as their family had been slowly torn asunder; one death at a time.

First their father. Then their mother. Their youngest brother. And the list continued on and on; each war taking more than the last until now – there were none, save she.

Xoxo

It was a quiet service with a short benediction and remembrance. Not at all like the ones that had been part of the Final Battle services. Except for one important fact, she was there. Appearing as she had at every one of the services that Hermione had attended, statuesque, stalwart, and so very much…the Headmistress of Hogwarts, and not...the woman who she had sat opposite of this morning for the better part of two hours just, talking.

From where she stood, she could see the rigidness in Minerva's back – undoubtedly from the incident yesterday. When she had admitted to it being bruised this morning, Hermione should have suspected that it was not a mere bruise but probably was across the expanse of her back. And as such, Minerva probably hadn't placed a salve upon it because she'd not have been able to reach it all – and much like herself, had been too prideful to ask.

Her ruminations were cut short as the service came to an end. Several persons stopping beside and quietly speaking to Minerva, confirming to Hermione that whomever Robert was – Minerva had known him.

Hermione had tried to ascertain who the funeral was for, but the only information listed was Robert Ross and that he had been a member of Department of Mysteries.

She hadn't had much time between their conversation this morning, going to Hogwarts, her parents and the funeral to find out how Minerva knew Robert. Not that it mattered, but…in a way it did.

Was he a former lover? Someone before she met and married Amelia Bones? Was he family? If so, why wasn't she listed as next of kin?

Shaking her musings aside as the last of the guests departed, she forced her legs into motion and quietly came up behind Minerva. She had hoped that the elder witch wouldn't notice her, but she had – her body's reaction immediately stiffening at sensing another was present and Hermione gently announced herself. "It's just me." She stated closing the last handful of steps between them, coming to a halt beside her.

Minerva didn't move, eyes still trained on the coffin before them, for seeming an eternity before slowly tears began falling from refined cheeks and Hermione merely remained beside her…a quiet support as the woman silently grieved for the man, Robert Ross.

Xoxo

Minerva didn't know how long it had been, only that she was stiff and her back ached with abandon; when she felt a warm hand gently wrap around her arm, followed by soft words. "Let me take you home."

Minerva slowly turned, voice gravelly as she blinked away the last how many minutes and truly took in her surroundings to see…Hermione. "What are…" she licked her lips in a vein effort to find an ounce of moisture, "you doing here?" Eyes darted to the vista, as if searching out St. Mungos, "Why aren't you with your parents at St. Mungos?"

Brown eyes scanned red-rimmed emerald irises, "I was and while they are not thrilled with what happened, they understand why I did what I did. It was an emotional two hours and I explained that I'd be back tomorrow to talk some more as I…wanted to be here for you."

Minerva tried to form a coherent response, but she could only stare at Hermione too emotionally drained to put aside her own turmoil to ensure that the young woman before her was alright.

Hermione could see the concern and the exhaustion buried beneath resigned despair, "Is there any last words you'd like to say before we leave?"

Minerva's eyes moved back to her brother's grave as an arm wrapped securely around her waist, and she tiredly leaned into the solidarity while heartfelt words passed chapped lips. "Not that hasn't already been said a thousand times."

Hermione nodded against the silken hair brushing across her face, arm involuntarily tightening around Minerva's form and without another thought, apparated them back to Hogwarts.

Xoxo

a/n: Another morsel :)