Chapter Twelve
Filius promised to get his mother and Elise situated in guest quarters at Hogwarts, both insisting they wanted to stick around to be able to catch up with Hermione. Ignatius and Roland promised to be back for a visit on the weekend after getting Minerva's word they'd be filled in on all the time traveling rot at that point, and Harry and Ron were ushered off to their dorms. It was, by now, after curfew. As for Minerva and Hermione, they were headed up to the Head Tower, it not even being a question that Hermione would be staying with her tonight. Harry had promised to let Ginny know she wouldn't be back to dorms tonight, and that she'd explain tomorrow.
"I suppose I'll have to speak to Kingsley," Hermione mused. "I don't want to get arrested for the time traveling, but honestly, I didn't change a thing and it was an accident. I had the Time Turner legally, so I shouldn't get into trouble."
"We'll get in touch with him in the next week," Minerva promised, slipping her hand into her lover's.
Hermione glanced at Minerva and let out a petulant huff. "I can't believe you didn't warn me, Min. That whole year, I kept thinking back on tonight - tonight for you and my younger counterpart, I mean - and I couldn't bloody believe you didn't warn me."
"Your older counterpart never suggested I offered you any warning," Minerva replied. "She only said that I told her about Professor Dagworth having taught my Seventh Year. I was merely following your directions."
"That is so fucked," she muttered.
"Yes, speaking of fucked," Minerva mused. "How did Hermione Granger go from being a young woman who rarely used profanities, to being Hermione Dagworth who freely used such language?"
Hermione laughed. "I spent the better part of August with Olivia, Constance, and Constance's boys. Hector was more well spoken like Constance, but James and Samuel swore like sailors, like their father. Blame them."
By now, they'd reached the door to Minerva's office, and she'd uttered the password to enter. "After you, my love," the Scottish woman said softly.
Upon entering, Hermione quickly spotted the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, and her lips curled up in a wicked smile. "Albus," she greeted. "How'd the soul searching go?"
Minerva rolled her eyes. "Must you antagonize him, darling?"
Dumbledore raised both eyebrows high as he stared at the pair of them, still holding hands. "Professor Dagworth," he greeted, beginning to understand. "You two. You were together?"
"Ten points to Gryffindor," Hermione said, offering a cheeky grin.
"She was your student!" he exclaimed.
"She was my Professor before I got there," came a quick counter.
He shook his head. "In any case, yes, Professor, I did eventually understand your message, on both counts. Severus Snape turned out to be one of my greatest confidantes and allies, even if he was a Slytherin, and your hint about soul searching did in fact lead me to horcruxes. It took me years, but I got there."
She shrugged. "Well, you gave me more than a few puzzles to sort out in my life, so I figured I ought to return the favor."
"Odd," he mused, eyes twinkling. "I had much the same thought when I left you the book I did."
"Can I please have my fiancée back?" Minerva begged, pulling Hermione away from the portrait. "You two can snip at each other another time. I've waited too damn long to have you in my arms, love."
"She has a point," Hermione agreed, letting herself fall into Minerva's arms.
"How in Merlin's name are you going to explain any of this to the public?" Albus wanted to know. "That Hermione Granger is suddenly engaged to marry the Headmistress of Hogwarts for seemingly no reason at all."
Hermione let out a snort of amusement. "I thought we'd try the truth, Albus. I know it's been ages since you've actually utilized the concept, but some of us lesser folk do generally prefer honesty when we can."
Minerva all but shoved her away from the portrait. "I have to work in here, dear," she grumbled. "Can we not bait Albus bloody Dumbledore?"
The other woman laughed. "Oh come on, love. I've been waiting a year for that."
They were giggling together until they crossed the threshold into Minerva's quarters. Hermione had been here only last night from the Scottish woman's perspective, although from Hermione's it had been a year since that night, and they'd developed a far more intimate relationship since. The mood shifted dramatically as soon as the door closed. "Well," Minerva said.
"Well, indeed," Hermione replied. "Don't get nervous on me now, Min. You've never been shy with me before."
She huffed. "Not counting the moment you arrived, darling, the last time I attempted coming on to you, from my perspective, was more than fifty years ago. So much has changed."
Hermione moved forward, and wrapped her arms around Minerva's waist. "The important things haven't changed at all. Have you gone through things I don't know about? Certainly. There are things I've gone through I've never told you, either. We both have things to share before we can honestly go forward saying we know all there is to know about one another."
"But I'm so much ol…" Minerva began.
"I swear to Merlin Minerva McGonagall," Hermione whispered, pulling her even closer and moving her lips close to her ear, "if you're about to go on about how much older you are, I'll start hexing you just so you'll engage me in a duel and prove how spry you still are. I rather think you'd prefer to prove your agility in another manner, however. Wouldn't you?"
Her lips began to trail down Minerva's neck as nimble fingers began to unbutton the older woman's robes, the outer layer falling away in less than a minute. Minerva melted in Hermione's arms, her own hands beginning to shakily move toward the fasteners of what were now outdated robes, although they were familiar to Minerva; a vestige of her youth. Lips met eagerly, and as passion mounted between them, Hermione smiled into the kiss as Minerva's confidence grew and the Scottish woman directed them toward a door Hermione had never been through, leading them to the bedroom portion of the suite. She'd briefly seen Minerva's bedroom in her quarters downstairs, some years ago, which is how she'd been able to manifest them in the Room of Requirement, but she'd not had the opportunity here.
Minerva seemed to be in a hurry, flicking her wand and disrobing them the rest of the way just as they made it to the bed, heated flesh meeting heated flesh desperately. Hermione let out a happy sigh as her lover leaned over her, seemingly intent to dominate her for this round, which gave her an idea. Brown eyes met green ones hungrily. "Remember what we talked about, Min," she asked, breathing heavily, "regarding Transfiguration?"
The other woman looked half annoyed to be distracted from lovemaking for a moment, and then her eyes widened in understanding. "Oh. That. You want to give that a go now?"
Hermione grinned. "Why not?"
The Scottish woman paused her movements. "Primarily because I could get you pregnant, that's why."
The younger Witch rolled her eyes. "Point? We're getting married. Sooner the better as far as I see it. Merlin knows you've been waiting for me long enough. I just need to talk to Constance before I officially change my name to Dagworth, then I'll be sorted to marry you. If I happen to be a month or two pregnant when we get married, so be it. I'll also have graduated by then, so I'm not worried about school, either."
Hermione knew she was being a bit reckless, but the odds of them actually conceiving the first time would be astronomical, and she figured they'd have a conversation about being more cautious when they were not in the middle of shagging. Right now, however, she was glad Minerva was opting to be accommodating, smiling as her lover reached for her wand on the bedside table.
Brown eyes gleamed as she spread her legs for Minerva, hips thrusting a bit in invitation, chest arching as the older woman's mouth latched onto her breast and sucked. "Gods," she breathed, threading her fingers through her lover's hair. Lower and lower Minerva's mouth moved, until she was dead center and running her tongue in circles around Hermione's clit, evidently determained to bring her to orgasm orally before even moving on to fucking her.
Not that Hermione was complaining.
"Shite," she breathed, feeling her abdominal muscles tighten, and a pleasant buzz getting stronger and stronger between her legs, feeling exploding from within her just seconds later. "Oh shite!"
Her body shuddered as Minerva's tongue made a few more passes, spreading the natural lubrication all around, before shifting her position and sheathing herself slowly. "Bloody hell," Hermione heard her lover say, Minerva almost limply falling forward onto her.
Hermione thrust her hips a little, and her lover let out a gasp. She giggled. "Feel good?" she asked.
"Unbelievable," Minerva admitted, meeting her gaze. "You are unbelievable."
She hummed, and wiggled a little, fixing her lover with a stare that just dared Minerva to do something about it. Minerva, as expected, took the challenge, and quickly pushed herself back up and gripped Hermione's hips, lifting her up off the bed a little, and then beginning to thrust. Hermione moaned with every impact, louder and louder as Minerva got the hang of things and began to hit faster and harder, the minutes going on and Hermione getting almost dizzy with how good this felt. "Fuck!" she let out, crashing over the edge, core clamping down hard on Minerva.
If she wasn't so overwhelmed she might have laughed at the look on her lover's face, the grip seeming to push her over the edge as well, one final thrust and a loud moan from Minerva leaving the two of them a pile of limp, sweaty limbs, tangled up together on the sheets. After a little while, Minerva rolled off her, grabbing her wand from the table and transfiguring her anatomy back to its proper state. Hermione nestled against her lover, the pair content to let sleep take then, knowing that tomorrow would bring questions and a need for answers, and a need to face the music, as much as they may wish to hide away from the world for a bit longer.
After some brief discussion, Minerva and Hermione agreed that she would not go back to classes. She'd sit her NEWTs with the rest of the Seventh and Eighth Years to get her official transcripts for Hogwarts, but she wasn't comfortable being the Headmistress' lover and a student under her charge at the same time. After all, Minerva was still teaching Transfiguration, and it would be strange to not attend one class but still go to the others. That she'd been a Professor at this school years ago and had already agreed to return as such the following term didn't help matters at all. As such, the pair of them were now on their way to a staff meeting. There was instant chatter as they walked in together, especially considering that Hermione was not dressed in student robes, but rather in adult ones.
Horace spoke up first. "Excuse me, Headmistress, but why is Miss Granger joining us for our staff meeting?"
She smiled a bit. "Before I answer that, I owe you and Pomona apologies, as I have slightly altered both of your memories. If you will just wait a moment, I'll remedy that, and explain why, if the reason why is not readily apparent."
To her relief, neither seemed terribly hurt at the notion, both trusting her implicitly and seeming to believe that if she altered their memory, it would only have been for a very good reason. A few flicks of her wand corrected Horace's memory, and a few more corrected Pomona's, both having needed to be modified so that they did not recognize Hermione Granger as Professor Hermione Dagworth as they came across her over the years. Like her, Pomona had Dagworth as a teacher, and Horace had worked with her, back then. They'd both certainly have remembered her.
As the corrected memory settled in, Pomona seemed to grasp things first. "Professor Dagworth?" she exclaimed.
Hermione smiled. "Miss Sprout. Did I or did I not tell you that you had a promising career ahead of you?"
Pomona laughed. "That you did. I do believe I'm beginning to understand why you were so certain. Time travel?"
Her lover nodded. "An accident, yes. I left and returned last evening, spending a year exactly in the past. Horace, it's been some time."
His eyes were fixed on Minerva's left hand, shock written on his features. "It was her all along. The Highland girl was Minerva."
"It was," she admitted. "I hope you understand why I couldn't be more transparent, then. I didn't want to put you in that position."
He nodded curtly. "Fair enough, Professor Dagworth."
Ross Bobbin, who was the Defense Professor for this year, although he'd been clear he was only staying on for this year, spoke up. "Excuse me, Headmistress, but what's this business about a Professor Dagworth? This here is Hermione Granger, and besides, there hasn't been a Dagworth to work at Hogwarts in years. Not since my wife's great-great-great grandmother retired in the late fifties."
Hermione looked sharply at Ross. She'd already known the man was married into the Dagworth-Granger family. Constance had often remarked on how he was a bit of a bore and sort of a prat, but he did love Delilah so they let it go. She came down James' line. "Long story short, I went back in time. Like your wife descends from James' line, I descend from John's. Thus the Granger name. When I got to the past, Olivia Dagworth adopted me as a second daughter, and I taught Defense for a year, here at Hogwarts, using the name Hermione Dagworth. A name, I might add, that I mean to keep using. Mother was rather insistent on it, in fact, although I need to speak to my sister and find out if she already arranged to make that legal, or if I need to do the paperwork. One way or another, Ross, we're family, so best get used to seeing me, and to having a Dagworth teaching at Hogwarts again. I'll be taking over the Defense post next term."
Pomona let out a squeal of delight. "Yes!" she said.
Aurora Sinistra frowned. "Was she that good?" she asked Pomona.
"She was," Horace answered. "I think half the reason that generation of students survived the first war was because of what Dagworth taught them that year. She had every student learning the Patronus Charm. For seven years, all graduates knew how to drive away Dementors, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Unfortunately, none of her successors agreed with her mentality that students so young could master it and other advanced defensive spells, even if she did prove the point."
"I'll make a priority of adjusting the syllabus," Hermione promised. "I'll be ready for next term. Voldemort may be gone but…"
"Dark Lords come and go," Pomona said, echoing the lesson she'd taught all of them, so many years ago. "We know, Professor."
Minerva spoke up, amused at how easily Pomona and Horace had shifted from seeing Hermione as their student to a woman who'd been a Professor at this school, so long ago. "There are a number of spells that run cross discipline. I think it would be wise for you to all sit down together and confer, and decide what Hermione will be adding to the Defense syllabus and what you all need to add to yours. Especially you, Filius. We need to stop just following a routine and begin considering what our students actually need as a point of survival if worse comes to worst. The Patronus is only one of several I can think of that has widespread Defense applications within the Charms repertoire."
"Besides," Hermione said cheerfully. "It'll give us some nice quality time together, Filius."
"I'm sure that will thrill Mother," he drawled. "If humanly possible, let's stick to academia and stay far away from trying to marry me off, alright?"
"Aw," Hermione teased, "you're no fun. So cautious, like your father."
Pomona let out a laugh. "Okay, what am I missing here? Marry him off? I mean, Merlin knows I've been trying that for years, but I feel like there's a story."
"No story," Filius said firmly.
"I'm his Godmother," Hermione provided.
The Charms Professor groaned.
Pomona looked gleeful. "See me after the meeting. I have a list."
Minerva wasn't sure if a friendship between Pomona and Hermione was a good thing or a bad thing. The Hufflepuff Head of House was nearly as devoted to chaos as Elise Black was.
Hermione apparated to the Dagworth Estate, anxious to reconnect with her sister. She knew, in the technical sense, Constance was her great-grandmother, but her perception of the woman had been forever altered. They were unequivocally linked, now, by Olivia Dagworth and what she'd meant to both of them. She didn't know if she could stop thinking of Constance as a sister if she tried. Brown eyes narrowed as she remembered being here a year ago, and how nervous she'd been then, more than fifty-six years in the past. With a sigh, she moved forward and knocked on the door.
Constance smiled when she opened it. "Hermione," she greeted. "Aren't you meant to be in school?"
Hermione let out a slow breath, smiling ruefully as she recalled what she'd said a year ago, from her point of view. "Alright, so this is probably going to sound a bit nuts, but I just got flung more than fifty years into the past, where I became my own grandmother's sister."
The older Witch let out a happy sigh, and pulled her into a fierce hug. "Welcome home, sister. Merlin, it's good to see you."
Constance stepped aside and Hermione followed her in. "Did Mother already draw up the legal paperwork to change my name to Dagworth?" she asked. "Or do I have to get that sorted?"
The older of the sisters laughed. "Do you honestly think she'd have left that to chance? No, the paperwork is already filed. It goes into effect the day you graduate from Hogwarts. She wasn't certain when you'd go back and then come forward again, but she knew it had to be toward the end of this year, based on what you told us. She figured if you did return to the same date you left, that would give you time to finish your NEWTs under Granger, and then enter the adult world under Dagworth."
"She really did think of everything, didn't she?" Hermione mused.
"She did," Constance agreed. "That was her way. Did you propose to Minerva yet?"
Hermione laughed. "Not five minutes after I got back. I don't know if the dust had actually settled yet. I did have a promise to keep, you know? The poor woman had waited long enough."
"Good," her sister said, nodding in approval. "We'll do a summer wedding then. Here at the Estate. Unless you'd prefer it at Hogwarts or Ross Abbey?"
She shook her head. "I'd want to talk to Min to make sure, but I think if we're going forward under Dagworth, it would be appropriate to marry here at the Estate. We'll both be teaching full time for the foreseeable future, mind you, but that doesn't mean we won't start a family soon enough. Being pregnant won't stop me from teaching, sans for a few weeks at a time. I can always have someone substitute. I may beg James. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to ask Ross, even if he did have the post before me."
"I told you he was a prat," Constance said pointedly.
"He's vaguely competent," Hermione shrugged, "and to his credit, he hasn't tried to kill us, so there's something he has over most of our other Defense Professors."
Constance poured them each a glass of wine and handed one to her sister. "To reunions," she said, offering a toast, "and to the future."
Hermione smiled, and clinked their glasses together. "To reunions, and the future," she agreed.
She couldn't wait to begin her life with Minerva, at long last.
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