You're still the only one.
Chapter One: Heather and Lavender
A big thanks to my beta and the peeps in the HG/MM group on facebook for their never ending encouragement! This story has been playing in my head for a few years, but i have never had the confidence to write it. I expect it will be re-written one day, but for now i hope it meets expectations! All and any feedback is very much appreciated!
Winter time in Scotland was never fun. Growing up in London, Hermione was used to the milder climate and despite having spent six winters in the castle and one in a tent, she still found herself feeling the bite of the draughty castle air nipping at her fingertips. Pulling her robes tighter around herself, Hermione increased her pace through the charms corridor. Several months had passed since Voldemort had been defeated, yet the castle still bore the signs. Scorch marks that the clean up team had missed, the odd suit of armour cradling a dented arm, and entire corridors still closed to the student population remained as a grim reminder of what they had lived through. Shaking herself from the grim thoughts threatening to swallow her good mood, Hermione climbed the final staircase that had chosen today to not be difficult as she made her way to the seventh floor. She was one of the five students who had chosen to return to Hogwarts after the battle and retake their seventh year. The ministry had promised honorary NEWTs to all those who fought in the battle, but it didn't sit right with her. She had always been a high achiever, and she needed to know she had earned them fair and square, from her hard work and dedication. Not from murder and violence. She smiled at herself, thinking how if anybody had told her last year she would be sitting in the room of requirement with Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley and Blaise Zambini, she would have had them checked for a head injury. Turning the final corner towards the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy, she collided with a tall figure and gentle hands caught her shoulders. She was shaken from her introspection as she glanced up at a lined face housing an indulgent smile.
"Steady, Hermione." A softly accented voice reached her ears as Minerva McGonagall looked down at her.
"Ah, Headmistress, I'm sorry!" Hermione took a step back, out of the hands holding her upright and righted her bag upon her shoulder.
"Headmistress again?" Minerva asked with a cheeky smile playing on her lips. Hermione fought the impulse to stick her tongue out at the woman.
With an exaggerated sigh Hermione then returned her smile "Minerva then, I am sorry!" Hermione stopped fighting the impulse and did stick her tongue out causing Minerva to laugh. She loved that laugh, the rich throaty tones only few got to hear. Hermione thought she could go the rest of her life without food or water, but not without that laugh. When Minerva laughed her face changed, years of expectation and pressure lifting from her skin, her eyes coming alive and glittering with mischief, not unlike the way her predecessor's did and the very air around her seemed to spark. Charged with some type of energy she couldn't explain.
"Hermione?" Minerva's voice floated through her ears and she was brought back to the moment. Looking up at Minerva she took a moment to study her, noticing that the woman's dark circles had become more prominent, and the bony hip she had just collided with indicated she was not eating the way she should have been.
"Sorry, I got lost in thought...again. It is one of those days it seems!" Hermione explained with a short breathy laugh, hoping the woman wouldn't notice her momentary appraisal of her well-being.
"Do you fancy tea tonight? I'm on my way to meet the others. We have a charms essay due tomorrow, but otherwise my schedule is wide open." Hermione asked the elder woman.
Minerva nodded "Yes, I can do tea. How about 8pm- My place or yours?" She punctuated the last part with a wink, and for a moment Hermione just stared. Momentarily stunned by the blatant coyness of her former professor and unsure if she had imagined it, before exploding into peels of giggles.
"Your place," she gasped out before continuing to laugh at the slightly bemused expression that had suddenly appeared upon Minerva's face.
"Goan, get on with ye" Minerva said, the Scottish in her momentarily shining through. Hermione smiled up at her, before squeezing her arm in farewell and moving down the corridor to pace in front of the portrait holding the hidden entrance to the room of requirement.
As she waited for the room to provide her usual study session hide out, she mused on the enigma that was Minerva McGonagall. They had worked closely together returning the castle to normal after the battle, long hours spent weaving intricate and finicky magic to re-enchant the various features Hogwarts was famous for. The true bonding happened in the evenings though. Hours spent sitting in her quarters drinking tea, talking of nothing and watching the sun slowly filter through the curtains as dawn struck. The woman was magnificent, Hermione thought to herself. Truly amazing in every way. Hermione had long since admitted her attraction to Minerva McGonagall, and she felt it was freeing. Being able to admire the person you loved without guilt or shame. She loved how Minerva could carry a conversation with her intelligence alone. Hermione knew people often thought Minerva unfeeling due to her strict nature and love of all things black and white, but she knew better. Hermione knew that when an eleven year old cried because the burning longing for home was twisting in their guts, Minerva was there with a cup of tea and a calming drought. She knew that when your best friend watched a school mate get murdered and his scream haunted your nightmares; Minerva was there opening her door at one am with biscuits and hot chocolate. She knew that when you could barely move, for the fractures in your spine were only just healed, that Minerva would be there wiping the sweat from your brow and whispering soothing words or humming lyricless songs until you fell back to sleep. Hermione thought that might have been when her attraction became something deeper, the moment she opened her eyes and saw a slumped Minerva by her bedside in the hospital wing, the dim light of the fading fire casting shadows across her face.
The sudden appearance of an ornate golden knob drew Hermione's attention, and as she reached forward to open the door she thought back to her meeting with Minerva in the hall. The study of her well-being would not be appreciated; she knew that if Minerva McGonagall was anything, it was independent and fiercely protective of her personal business. Opening the door to the room of requirement, she wondered to herself, just who was there to soothe the nightmares of the iron-willed Minerva McGonagall.
Hermione took a step forward, through the ornately carved door and into a room that certainly was not the one she had asked for. In fact, she didn't think she had ever seen this room in her life. It held a similar quality to the room of lost things in the sense that there was stuff everywhere. Letting the door close behind her with a soft thunk, Hermione shrugged her bag from her shoulder allowing it to fall to the floor with a soft thud before calling her wand out of her holster. The wand holster had been a back to school gift from Harry and she hadn't taken it off since. Flicking her wrist, Hermione cast a basic spell to ensure she wasn't about to get eaten by a fanged plant, or a three headed dog or some other ridiculous creature she still couldn't quite believe was real, despite being in the magical word for seven years. Seeing the clear results, she relaxed her stance and took a step forward to the nearest cabinet. The entire room was like a library of artefacts. Cherry wooden shelves reached from floor to ceiling, each one displaying their goods proudly. Expertly arranged yet inherently messy the entire room was a perfect example of organised chaos. Looking upwards Hermione noted the ceiling was enchanted similarly to the great hall. Right now it showed an early evening sky, the faint glow of the sun still visible despite the darkness slowly starting to creep in. The room itself was lit by surprisingly muggle looking wall lamps. Stepping closer to one she ran her finger over the silver bracket, letting out a small noise of surprise as a small zap of electric blue magic ran along her finger. Feeling magic was something new to Hermione it had not always happened. In fact, it was only recently since pouring her soul into rebuilding Hogwarts that she noticed it. Tiny things like the unique energy of a person entering a room, or the particular feeling of a spell as it left her wand. It was interesting and a puzzle. Hermione loved puzzles. Casting her eyes about the room she noticed a cosy looking seating area. Two sofas, a coffee table and a rug covered the stone floors. All in all, Hermione thought if she were to design a room, this is exactly what it might look like.
Walking towards the seating area, she collapsed back into the sofa, and summoned her bag over. Pulling out the parchment and quills, she went to place them on the coffee table in front of her, when instead an object caught her eye. It hadn't been there when she first sat down. Cautiously waving her wand, she cast another series of spells, hoping to establish if the jagged edged object was safe. It was a strange looking thing. Somewhere between the shape of a diamond and a triangular rubix cube that she used to play with as a child. Its colouring, a deep auburn, meant that it wasn't a type of crystal. She couldn't think of one that matched this description anyway. It seemed to both reflect and absorb light, different shades playing together in ripples across the surface. She rotated it slowly with her wand, watching as it glinted. Deeming it safe enough, she reached forward, hand closing around its surface. It was surprisingly soft, considering it looked like hard edges, she thought to herself. Then when the sharp tugging feeling in her gut started, she realised she had made a mistake.
It was wet on her back. That was Hermione's first thought as she slowly opened her eyes. The second was that it was cold, but not cold enough, considering she had just come from winter in Scotland. Gingerly sitting up as her hand came to rest on her lower back, she took a moment to take in her surroundings. She seemed to be in a wildflower field. Heather, lavender and clover grew in abundance around her, a light breeze carrying the scent of fresh air and flowers tickling her face. She was quite sure she had never been here before. Standing up, she turned in a full circle looking for a village, or building. Anything that might give her an indication of where she might be.
"Aha!" She muttered to herself as she caught sight of a tree in the distance. As she shifted her feet to start walking, her foot caught something on the ground. Bending over, she picked up the device from the room of requirement. It looked different now. No longer were the lights dancing inside; it had faded to a muted brown colour. Brushing some dirt off the surface, she decided to work on that mystery later and slipped it into her pocket. Taking off at a brisk pace towards the only landmark she could see, a large oak tree deep in the distance. Removing her sweatshirt and wrapping it around her waist, Hermione noted the sun was high in the sky, probably making it around noon. It was warm, but not overly so. Her logical mind came to the conclusion that the device had obviously been a portkey of some type, for she certainly wasn't at Hogwarts anymore. If Hermione had taken a moment to think, she'd have also realised it was late afternoon in Scotland. Stumbling slightly on another root, Hermione was reminded how much she hated hiking. Her parents had taken her occasionally when she was younger, but it was not something that sparked joy inside her. She would much rather be curled up in front of a warm fire with a glass of chilled wine and some snacks.
After around 10 minutes of walking, and aimless thoughts rambling, the tree began to come into focus and Hermione could see somebody sat beneath the canopy. A tall figure that seemed to be hunched in on itself. Increasing her pace, she hurried towards the person that would hopefully be able to help her get herself home!
"Hello!" Hermione called out as she approached the person. "I was hoping you could…" Hermione's sentence cut off as she took in the sight before her. The woman, for it certainly was a woman, not much older than her, was sat with her legs pulled to her chest and long thin arms wrapped around them. On her finger was a simple single stone ring that she was absently twisting with her long elegant fingers. Her entire demeanour screamed of an inner turmoil she couldn't process. Hermione noticed that the woman's hair was windswept as if she had been running, but it looked nothing like Hermione's would have. Self consciously, she raised a hand to touch the frizzy mess currently escaping her ponytail, longing for the silky black hair of the woman in front of her. It looked much softer than her own and fell like a sheet of water behind her. The woman had looked up at Hermione as she began to talk, and that was what had made Hermione stutter to a stop. The most beautiful tear-filled green eyes stared up at her, eyes that Hermione would know anywhere.
"Minerva?" Hermione questioned in a whisper.
Quick as a flash, the woman was on her feet, spurred into action by the utterance of her name from a stranger and suddenly, Hermione found herself at the business end of a wand. A wand being held by a very angry, very emotional and most importantly, much younger witch.
"Oh shit."