Well I was going to do one chapter for this particular weekend of Hermione and Minerva's adventure, but my word count was already 500 words past my usual size for a single chapter, so looks like there will be another chapter to cover the rest of this weekend. Enjoy!
Minerva thought that things were going rather well, regarding her budding relationship with Hermione. The younger woman had been far more receptive to physical contact that she'd led Minerva to believe she'd be, often times even inviting such things as back massages or cuddling on the couch together. Still, the touches were more or less innocent, but Minerva was certain that it was only a matter of time before that changed.
"Umm…. help?" Hermione called from her own bedroom.
Minerva quickly rose from her spot on the couch, and moved to see what was wrong with her prodege. It was still early - in fact she'd thought Hermione was getting dressed before planning to head out to meet with Harry and Ronald. "What's wrong?" she asked, walking in the room.
"My bloody pants won't button," the younger witch huffed.
The pregnancy was now eleven weeks along. They had agreed to make an announcement after twelve weeks, but Hermione had insisted that certain people be told ahead of time. Harry and Ronald were today, after the appointment with Poppy in half hour, and then they'd have dinner at the Burrow tomorrow to tell the rest of the Weasleys together. Sunday afternoon, Hermione intended on going to see her parents, and Minerva was insisting on being there for that.
Still, despite being aware of what was going on for nearly a month now, that simple statement from Hermione made it all suddenly seem real to Minerva. Hermione was having a baby. Their baby. "Oh sweetheart," she muttered, coming over and kneeling in front of her former student.
"It's not a big deal," Hermione sighed. "Just… it's all real now."
"I know how you feel," Minerva nodded. "May I…?" she asked, reaching out toward Hermione's stomach.
Hermione lifted her shirt to expose the gentle swell of her baby bump, and guided Minerva's hand to the firming skin. "Our baby," she whispered.
Emotion welled up in Minerva's chest, but she forced her face to remain impassive. She would not do that to Hermione - the younger woman could not see the fear of her own ability to be a parent, or the uncertainty of if she was doing the right thing by courting Hermione. Most importantly, Hermione could not see the overwhelming love and pride roaring inside her at the idea of this woman carrying her child. She needed to let Hermione make her choice without regard for how Minerva felt, but the fact of the matter was that in the last few weeks, she'd realized that it really was only a matter of time before she fell in love with the younger witch.
"How about you put on something a little less snug, and sometime this weekend we'll find time to go into London and get you some maternity clothes?" Minerva suggested, standing. "We need to head down to the infirmary shortly."
Hermione nodded in agreement, and Minerva took her leave, giving the brunette some privacy. Meanwhile, she'd return to the couch, and resume sipping her brandy laced tea. She was not going to tell her long time friend that she was attempting to woo a girl, more than forty years younger, while entirely sober.
"Good morning Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said cheerfully as she entered the Hospital Wing, Minerva in tow. "I trust you got the file from St. Mungo's?"
"I did," the matron confirmed. "I must say, Miss Granger, I admire you for choosing to go through with the pregnancy. Most people wouldn't."
"I've never been most people."
A chuckle echoed through the otherwise unoccupied room. "True! Though one question about the file, before we start with the exam - were you able to figure out who the unintended second parent was? With the chaos during the last few weeks of the war, of course I'd understand if you didn't know, but it's wise to be aware of both sides of the child's family medical history."
Hermione huffed, and jabbed a finger toward the woman standing beside her, who had apparently decided to get sloshed before the appointment, and was presently focusing her efforts on standing upright, rather than participating in this conversation. Once Minerva sobered up, they were going to have a very serious discussion. She was not going to raise her child around a drunk.
"Minerva?" Poppy squeeked in surprise.
"Poppy?" Minerva replied chipperly.
"Why are you drunk?" the matron inquired, hands on her hips.
Hermione turned to face Minerva as well, curious as to how she was going explain away that. "Yes, do tell." she said, glaring.
"Because YOU are SCARY when you're MAD!" Minerva explained dramatically.
"Why in Merlin's name would I be mad at you for this?" Poppy asked, obviously confused. "Minerva, it's not like you wanted this to happen! It was an accident of a very innocent sort, and no one will hold that against you."
"She's trying to convince me to marry her," Hermione chimed in, knowing that was the factor that Minerva was a bit worried about.
"WHAT?!" Poppy demanded with a roar. "MINERVA DIANA MCGONAGALL YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!"
Minerva covered her ears. "See? This is the scared part."
"Aren't you a Gryffindor?" Hermione inquired, fiening uncertainty.
Minerva puffed out her chest. "I'm HERE, aren't I?"
"AND YOU DAMN WELL SHOULDN'T BE!" Poppy ranted. "SEDUCING A STUDENT IS NOT OKAY, EVEN IF YOU KNOCK THEM UP!"
"Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said calmly. "If you would kindly lower your voice…"
"I apologize, Miss Granger," the other witch gritted out, still obviously furious with her friend.
"Minerva will be involved with this child's life, one way or another. I'm very much capable of making my own choices regarding whom I marry, and I will not marry Minerva if I do not think it's a suited match. That said, the consideration is on the table because of the laws regarding a bastard child's ability to inherit a title, and Minerva is the last of her line."
Hermione watched the expression on Poppy's face change from angry, to consideration, to acceptance in a matter of a few seconds. "Alright," she huffed, looking decidedly more calm. "Though I'm still not thrilled."
"Which we understand completely," Hermione said, glancing back at her mentor. "That all said, we can't hide this for much longer, and want to make sure the baby is healthy before we start announcing things. So can we get on with it then?"
Poppy look affronted at how Hermione was ordering her around, and Minerva sniggered.
Forty five minutes later it was Poppy that was sniggering, and Hermione and Minerva exited the Hospital Wing with identical looks of shock on their faces. Apparently, the downside to reproducing with a Animagis whose form has litters, is that the chance of multiples is almost high enough to be considered the norm. Twenty-nine weeks from now, assuming Hermione could carry to term, they'd be a family of five.
Back in their shared quarters, Hermione snapped out of her shock and after insisting on Minerva taking a Sober-Up potion, the two sat down to talk. She would have insisted on the potion prior to the appointment had she realized Minerva was drunk, but the older witch had not stumbled in her footing until they were halfway to the Hospital Wing, and Hermione had been too wrapped up in thinking of all the questions she wanted to ask Madam Pomfrey to notice the other signs.
"I expect the Manor has enough room for us and three children," Hermione stated, "Though our quarters here will have to be expanded. The room I'm staying in now will suit as a nursery in the short term, but as the children grow, we'll need the space."
"Even before this new development, I was going to suggest that, should you agree to marry me, we buy a cottage in Hogsmeade," Minerva offered. "Not that the children wouldn't be welcome here at Hogwarts, as they grow they'll want to be running about, and during the school year, this is no place for them to be doing that. As you and your friends may have noticed, Hogwarts can be dangerous for eleven year olds. Can you imagine the hazards the school would present to toddlers?"
"Probably best," the younger woman agreed. "Though regarding our potential marriage… Minerva, I will not raise my children around a drunk. I understand that this situation is stressful, but if drinking is how you intend to cope, then marriage is totally out of the question."
The Scottish witch had the good sense to look ashamed of herself. "I give you my word, Hermione," she replied. "It will not happen again. This whole thing is an adjustment, but I will find other means of managing myself."
"You could try talking to me," Hermione whispered. "Minerva, if we're to make a marriage work, we need to communicate. I realize that I was so recently your student and that it must be awkward for you to open up to me about your feelings, but I am carrying your children, and I am an adult, and I assure you that if your intent was to shield me from further stress, it is both unwarranted and unwelcome."
Minerva sat silently for a moment, and then nodded. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry."
Hermione stood, and walked over to the armchair Minerva was occupying. "Look at me."
The older witch looked up, green eyes misted, as she mulled over the inner conflict she was dealing with. In the last three weeks, Minerva had acted so strong, never once giving Hermione a clue that she too held reservations about a potential marriage. Today, however, she'd met a breaking point, and took to the bottle. As she'd promised Hermione, it would never happen again.
Then, to her shock, Hermione leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. It was chaste, but lingered long enough to let Minerva know that the younger woman was not blind to the chemistry that had begun to build between them. While she'd never considered being with a woman before, Hermione was an open minded person, and it was evident now that Minerva was on her way to winning the younger witch's favor.
"I need to go if I'm to meet Harry and Ron in time," Hermione whispered, backing away. "I'll be home after lunch."
Minerva was sure the look on her face was ridiculous. The kiss had been a surprise enough, but Hermione's use of the word home had been even more telling of her state of mind. Minerva wondered if Hermione was merely holding back actually committing to an engagement so that others would not accuse her of rashly entering into a formal relationship with the Headmistress of Hogwarts. "I'll probably be in my office," she choked out. "I'll see you in the Great Hall for dinner?"
"You have a staff meeting at four," Hermione said thoughtfully. "If you are agreeable to it, I thought I'd join you then, if you're ready to tell them what's going on."
Minerva nodded. "That's fine, though if it's all the same to you, I'd like to present just the barest of facts to the outside world for now - meaning that they will be told of the pregnancy, and that we're, for want of better word - courting, but I'd like to remain ambiguous about the fact that we're expecting more than one child."
"I'd intended to do much the same with Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys, though when we see my parents tomorrow, I'd like to be fully honest with them," Hermione bartered.
"Fair enough," the older woman agreed, standing. "Now off with you, or you'll be late."
Hermione was more than a little nervous as she walked into The Three Broomsticks, where she had agreed to meet Harry and Ron. Surprisingly, she saw that both of the boys were already there; they waved at her when she walked in the door, and she made her way toward the table they'd already selected.
"You're early," she stated, taking a seat.
"Well, we figured you're always early," Ron said, "so if you said eleven, you would probably be here by quarter till, and well… it feels bloody weird not seeing you for three whole weeks."
"He missed you," Harry laughed.
"You missed her too!" Ron exclaimed, shooting a glare at Harry. "You just said last night…"
"I miss you both, too," Hermione said, smiling. "And you're right Ron, after seven years of being around each other all the time, not having you boys at my side day in and day out does feel rather odd. That said, over the summers we managed, so three weeks isn't that bad."
"Never did like summers," Harry joked.
"Anyway," Ron said, "What's new with you, Hermione?"
Waiting for her to reply, Ron turned his attention to his Butterbeer, and she saw Harry frown at the way she was hesitating. Well, she mused, best get it over with, like ripping off a plaster. "I'm pregnant," she stated, finding her resolve. Butterbeer proceeded to spray across the table from Ron's mouth. "Ronald!" she yelped, casting a cleaning charm on herself, the table, and then the boys.
"BLOODY HELL!" Ron exclaimed.
Hermione had predicted Ron would react like that, though she should have timed the announcement till after he'd swallowed. Her focus turned to Harry, who was looking at her with confusion. "Harry?" she asked timidly.
"Who's the father?" he inquired.
"That's… complicated," she began. Hermione proceeded to lay out the basic details of how side-along apparation could result in a pregnancy, both boys paying more attention to her explanation than they'd ever done in any class.
"Okay, so if I'm understanding this correctly," Harry finally said, "then you got pregnant without having sex, but there is still a father… blimey, is he even alive? I mean if you got pregnant during the battle… it wasn't Fred was it?"
"No!" Hermione quickly replied, watching Ron turn pale at the thought. "It was Minerva who side-alonged me. There was a Death Eater coming up behind my position, and she realized I hadn't noticed, so she did it to save me."
The ghostly complexions on both boys made her realize that she'd just told them everything in a mad rush. She'd meant to ease into the situation, explaining first how the other person had saved her, and how despite not having to they were stepping up to the plate, and then drop the bomb of whom exactly she was talking about.
"McGonagall?" Harry breathed out. "Minerva… as in McGonagall?"
She blushed. "Um… yeah."
"How's she handling it?" Ron asked, eyes wide.
"Very well, actually," Hermione said. In for a penny, in for a pound… "She wants to marry me, so that our baby doesn't grow up labeled a bastard."
Harry looked stunned at this, obviously not well versed in Wizarding Law and why this might be important, but Ron just shrugged. "Good of her," he said. "So, you gunna? Marry her, I mean? Last I checked, you liked blokes, 'Mione."
Hermione quickly explained to a sputtering Harry what it meant for a wizarding child to grow up being considered a bastard, after which he calmed down a bit. "As to if I'll marry her… honestly boys, I have not made up my mind for certain, but I'm leaning toward yes. She's been so wonderful the last few weeks, and I'm open minded about the sex aspect."
Ron looked like he'd just eaten something very sour. "But she's old. And she's… old…"
"She's not that old," Harry defended. "And pretty enough. I'd be willing to bet she's a demon in the sack."
Hermione looked at Harry in surprise. "Put some thought into that before, Harry?"
Ron huffed. "Fifth year Seamus had a major crush on McGonagall. We all listened to him go on and on and on about it. Neville, Dean, and Harry seemed to get it, but I never did. To each their own, though."
"Hey, I was with you until Colin showed me that picture!" Harry said, defending himself.
"What picture?" Hermione asked, glaring at them and wondering just how much Minerva was going to want to kill Colin Creevy if word of said picture ever reached her ears.
"Nothing graphic," Harry assured her. "Just a photo of her when she was younger. She was wearing slacks and a blouse, and it showed off her figure. Oh, her hair was down too. It really does make a difference in her appearance."
"If you say so…" Ron grumbled. "So, when you gunna tell mum and dad?"
"Yours or mine?" Hermione asked teasingly.
"Both," Harry chimed in.
"Minerva and I are expected at the Burrow for dinner this evening," Hermione explained. "Tomorrow, we're going to see my parents. Next week, we'll do an interview with a journalist Minerva knows and trusts, and make an official announcement then."
"Why would you do a bloody interview?" Ron asked, looking perplexed.
"So they can get the facts out before people assume that McGonagall and 'Mione were shagging while we were still at Hogwarts, idiot!" Harry answered for her.
"Oh, right then. Hey Hermione, can you pass the rolls?" Ron asked.
Hermione laughed, and did as her friend asked. The waitress had just delivered their lunch, which has far as Ron was concerned, meant this conversation was pretty much over. Having said all she needed to say, and neither of the boys appeared to be freaking out too badly, Hermione decided to just enjoy spending time with her two best friends.
Your response to this story has been nothing short of amazing. I fully expect this chapter to bring me over the 100 review count. In fact, I refuse to post the next chapter until you do... so, as usual PLEASE REVIEW!