No matter how carefully we try and prepare for the future, life tends to get in the way. When Hermione tries to control her life down to the most minute detail, she has to learn to let go.
~()~
Since her acceptance to Hogwarts, she'd planned each moment. She would be at the top of her class, get the best end-of-year results, achieve the most House Points and become a Prefect, then Head Girl. She would prove that she belonged at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, despite her upbringing in the Muggle world.
Being Muggleborn wasn't easy, but she'd done her best to overcome the prevailing blood prejudice in the Wizarding world and prove herself worthy of her place in it.
And now, after eight years, she was about to stand in front of her peers and their family and friends as Head Girl and make the closing speech for her graduating class.
She'd achieved everything she'd set out to do. Well, apart from the House Points, but then again, Gryffindor had won the House Cup six of the seven years she'd attended Hogwarts, and it was a team effort, helped along by her best friend, Harry Potter and his propensity to be awarded last minute points during the end of year feast.
Part of her was sad that her time at Hogwarts would soon be over, but she was prepared for the future, and her job at the Ministry of Magic.
She had it all planned. She would rise through the ranks and it would be amazing. She knew that if she carried out all the plans she'd made, she would achieve security, safety and most importantly, happiness.
"For the final part of today's ceremony, I invite our Head Girl, Miss Hermione Granger to the podium."
The Headmistress's words, spoken in her soft brogue, tore her from her thoughts, and she stood, straightened her robes, and strode purposely forward.
There was a roar of applause from everywhere while she walked up to the podium, taking deep breaths and concentrating on not tripping over thin air.
Shaking hands with the Deputy Head, Professor Filius Flitwick, followed by her Headmistress, Professor Minerva McGonagall, her hand was squeezed reassuringly.
She gave a soft smile to Professor McGonagall and it was returned.
Turning to the crowd, she looked out over all the faces sitting in the Great Hall. Taking a deep breath, she began to speak. "For those who may not know me, where have you been?" She smiled when her words were met with some laughter. "Some of you may know me as 'the brains of the Golden Trio' while others know me as that 'insufferable know-it-all', but I'm simply Hermione Granger, lover of books, an advocate of house-elf rights, and the voice of reason within the crazy trio I somehow became a part of."
"Get on with it." A voice yelled out from the back of the great hall.
"Right you are, Georgie." She grinned at the redhead standing tall at the back of the hall next to his older brothers. "Headmistress, members of the Hogwarts faculty, proud family and friends, thank you for being here. I'd like to begin by acknowledging the people that aren't with us, but who helped significantly on the journey towards this momentous day." She exhaled and shifted nervously. "Professor Charity Burbage, Professor Remus Lupin, Professor Severus Snape and lastly, Professor Albus Dumbledore. They, among so many others, provided me with an exciting and often exasperating academic career. From explaining that a Pet Rock was a real thing for Muggles who didn't have enough time to take care of a real pet, being handed large quantities of chocolate to combat a Boggart of Professor McGonagall telling me I'd received Trolls in everything—" she blushed when her admission was met with chuckles. "—learning the art of potion making enough to be able to brew Polyjuice Potion in my second year, but not quite enough to stop me from accidentally turning myself into a cat, and learning that 'Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak' was an acceptable opening speech."
There was a hoot of laughter from the crowd and low chuckles from some of the teachers and she grinned.
"I have wracked my brain for what to say to you all today and what words of wisdom I can impart. I have asked myself what important lessons I have learned in the past eight years and as I stand here before you all, I can tell you that the most important thing I've learned is the power of friendship." She looked out at the crowd, easily spotting Neville, Luna and Ginny in the row of graduates before her eyes scanned the crowd and she saw her best friend and boyfriend. She caught their eyes and they grinned up at her.
"The friendships we have made here will last a lifetime and I hope we will continue to be there for each other and to support each other in the future. I can't believe our time at Hogwarts is over and that we're now expected to enter the real world. But luckily for us, our world's now at peace, and we can live life to the fullest. Life is far too short so when you leave here today, make each moment count and celebrate your accomplishments. Thank you."
~()~
Three Years Later
She sat in the darkness of her apartment, boxes surrounding her, her head in her hands.
That her life hadn't worked out as she'd planned was an epic understatement.
For a long time, she'd lived with an invisible weight of melancholy. It felt like the world was against her. Every plan she'd made for herself kept falling through.
Ron had left earlier that year after she'd returned home from work to find him in their bed with Romilda Vane and in a fit of pure rage had hexed him with the Furnunculus Curse so boils erupted on his backside. He was now shacked up with the younger Gryffindor, and they appeared in the Prophet gossip pages at least once a week.
Despite everything they'd shared together, they hadn't been able to return to the friendship they'd once shared and the mutual animosity had their mutual friends avoiding inviting them anywhere at the same time.
If that wasn't enough to have gone through, that afternoon she'd been frogmarched out of the Ministry, having lost her job as a junior assistant in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
She'd put her heart and soul into her work, hoping to be instrumental in improving the lives of all magical creatures, and yet at every turn, she hit a brick wall. Her colleagues had laughed at her attempts behind her back and she'd found advocating for changes was an incredibly slow process since no one had any interest in actually bettering the life of creatures, instead preferring to keep things as they were.
What had caused the end of her Ministry career was taking the fall for a small Goblin uprising. She hadn't even been given the chance to prove her innocence in the matter, she'd simply been told to leave and never return.
It probably hadn't helped that her magic had flared and she'd turned her ex-boss, who just so happened to be one of the most useless men she'd ever encountered, into a goldfish and left him flopping from side to side on the marble floor of the Atrium until someone from the Department of Mysteries picked him up and dropped him into the newly repaired and upgraded Fountain of Magical Brethren.
She wasn't quite sure how her life had spiralled so out of control. It had become something she hadn't ever expected and she had no idea what she was going to do.
A knock on the door had her raising her head, but she simply continued to sit in the hard-backed chair she hadn't packed, hoping whoever it was would take the hint and bugger off.
A faint click broke the silence, but she decided, even if Bellatrix Lestrange made an unexpected appearance, her day surely couldn't get any worse.
"Hermione—" The soft, familiar lilt of her old Professor and Head of House, and recently an unexpected friend, reached her.
"I'm in the living room, Minerva." She called.
"It's dark in here, lass," Minerva said, stepping brusquely into the room, her eyes scanning the space and taking in the boxes. "Kingsley mentioned you turned Kredor Strix into a goldfish."
"Yeah, I lost my temper when he insisted I was the cause of the skirmish with the Goblins and then he fired me, grabbed my arm and tried to escort me out of the Ministry." She sighed wearily. "What am I going to do now?" She whispered. "I can't keep living here, I've been struggling since Ron left, but now I definitely can't afford this place."
"You are going to come to Hogwarts." Minerva insisted. "Hagrid has left us for a job at MacFusty's Dragon Sanctuary and we need a new Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Frankly, who better than someone that respects all magical creatures?"
"Merlin's hairy bum cheeks!" She started to laugh out of sheer disbelief at the absurdity of the suggestion. "Surely you can't be serious?" She sputtered the question between her laughter.
Minerva offered up a small, wry smile. "Why wouldn't I be serious, lass?" Her eyes blazed with determination. "You are already packed, and there are multiple chambers for you to choose from, or if that's not suitable, the groundkeeper's cottage is clean and ready to move into since our new groundskeeper lives in Lower Hogsfield."
Her laughter stopped as quickly as it started and she sighed. "I don't know what to do for the best."
"What's stopping you from returning with me tonight, Hermione?" Minerva asked gently. "What have you got to lose?"
"It's not what I planned for my life, Minerva." She admitted.
Minerva conjured a chair and sat down gracefully. "Do you know what I've realised over my many years?" She asked. "It's extraordinarily rare for someone to live in the present and just be. I'm aware I've been guilty of this." She tilted her head. "And I know you are too. We're alike in that respect, lass. But what I have come to accept is that sometimes life has other plans for us, and the way we imagined our life doesn't quite turn out how we expect." She sighed. "You have lost the job you thought would always offer opportunities and job security. You've experienced the loss of a loved one you believed would be by your side forever. I'm not trying to throw these things in your face—" she frowned. —what I am trying to say is that life is unpredictable, lass. You might try to keep moving forward with the plans you believe are the key to your happiness, but what happens if you never fulfil the things you've worked so hard for? You'll still feel this isn't the way your life was supposed to be. What will happen if you achieve all you planned, only to find that it's not as fulfilling as you originally anticipated?"
"I—Profess—Minerva, I don't know—" She sputtered.
"Maybe your plan wasn't really the thing you should've been chasing, maybe taking a step back and just living in the moment, will bring the clarity you need to move forward," Minerva suggested. "Just think about it."
She sat back, her eyes closed, considering her friend's words. A small part of her wanted to be angry at the attempt at comfort Minerva had offered. The platitudes that someone else may find soothing, but she found slightly patronising.
Refusing to overlook the words of advice from one of the people she respected the most, she gave herself the time to consider them. She didn't want the unknown to become another source of anxiety or to start questioning every decision she made for fear of making the wrong one.
She'd mourned the loss of Ron for a time after he first left, before coming to the realisation their relationship didn't truly add anything to her life. It was simply what was expected and at the time, rather convenient. Frankly, it was one less thing she'd needed to think about and while she was rightfully angry, she was also relieved.
She wondered if moving back to Hogwarts, even if only for a year, would give her the chance to let go of how she thought her life would go. She could just live her life and pursue whatever caught her interest, perhaps she could make a difference in another way.
Maybe she could learn to trust that she'd be okay no matter what challenges life threw at her, or how much her circumstances changed.
It was obvious she couldn't keep micromanaging her life. It clearly wasn't working for her.
She made her decision. It was finally time to let go and open herself up to new possibilities. "Okay then." She agreed. "But I have one or two conditions."
~()~
Six Months Later
She had settled into the ground keeper's cottage easier than she expected, after laying down her rules which Minerva had begrudgingly accepted.
The House-Elves were granted access to the cottage once a week to clean, she ate one meal a day of her choice in the Great Hall with the other faculty and her nightly rounds, were done on the grounds rather than within the castle walls, putting a stop to the temptation that was caused by the forbidden aspect of the Forbidden Forest.
She refused to wear the standard wizarding robes that the other Professors preferred, instead, she settled for practical muggle clothes like jeans or cargo pants, t-shirts and loose-fitting knitted jumpers or hoodies. Due to spending so much time outdoors, she generally wore a Beenie over her unruly curls, had her feet encased in sturdy gumboots and always carried the oilskin satchel she'd picked up in Australia when looking for her parents after the final battle. When it turned cold, or the weather was wet, she wore a matching oilskin jacket or vest.
Despite her initial misgivings, she'd found a semblance of peace at Hogwarts and for the first time in a long time, she was content. Her magic seemed to be flourishing.
She'd spent so long holding on tightly to everything she thought she wanted and needed from life, the plans she'd made as a young witch. The not-so-unbreakable friendships, the not-so-perfect relationship with Ron, and the not-so-amazing career with the Ministry. It had been painful to let go, but she trusted in herself and in the snap decision she'd made to accept Minerva's offer.
Surrendering to her fears and need for control and simply going with the flow, and living in the present, had given her the time and space to figure out what she truly wanted. It had led her to obtain the life she hadn't even realised she needed until she was living it, one where she could breathe the clean fresh air deeply, and take the time to impart her knowledge as well as expand it.
Since taking up her post, she'd asked
for Minerva's permission to restore the Magical Creatures Reserve. It had been closed the year before she started Hogwarts, at Dumblebore's insistence, and her argument to re-establish it had been solid.
What was the point of having Care of Magical Creatures as part of the curriculum if she couldn't keep the magical creatures in a safe, and natural environment that would allow them to be transported with ease to the outdoor Care of Magical Creatures class? And now, with the Magical Creatures Reserve up and running, if a creature needed somewhere to live, she found a home for them and sometimes even nursed them back to full health. She'd expanded her knowledge greatly, by studying magical veterinary care in her downtime.
She'd also initiated an open-door policy for students and colleagues alike. If someone from the school needed her, she was always available to them. She'd grown rather popular with everyone, even Sybil Trelawney. Students with pets came to her for help when they were sick, rather than having to organise owl delivery from the Magical Menagerie or traipse down to Brood Peck in Hogsmeade for various tonics that may or may not work, depending on the owner's Potion making ability.
The most prolific visitor to her small cottage was the Headmistress herself. Their friendship had grown over shared meals, cups of tea and the occasional late-night game of chess. They discussed the latest research in Transfiguration, the changes Hermione wanted to make in the CoMC curriculum, her work on the reserve or additional studies and life in general.
"Frankly, I couldn't give a flying Shrivelfig what Ron thinks. Who does he think he is?" She ranted. "Why does Harry insist on bringing that dolt up in conversation? And what's my job here at Hogwarts got to do with him or anyone else?"
Minerva's expression softened. "It must be difficult, after everything, to hear Mr Weasley still believes his opinion matters." She smirked. "Despite what they believe, you've found your place here. After having grown up here, that's not always easy, but you've risen admirably to the challenge."
"Having you here has helped." She blushed. "You've made things so easy for me, Minerva. It's been amazing. Thank you."
"No, thank you, lass. Your students adore you." Minerva stated.
She grinned. "I never quite imagined myself as a teacher."
"Really?" Minerva asked. "Not even the briefest thought?"
"Okay, I'll admit it may have crossed my mind once or twice." Her smile widened when Minerva raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Charms or Transfiguration. Being the Care of Magical Creatures Professor was never even a consideration. I may have taken the class when I chose my O.W.L electives, but it wasn't exactly my greatest passion and I didn't follow it through to N.E.W.T level."
"Perhaps not, but you are a perfect fit and we needed someone—" Minerva stalled. "—competent, who respects all creatures and truly cares for the safety of the students and staff. Someone who is genuine and compassionate." She sighed. "Hagrid is a good man, and he means well, but—".
"He was pretty oblivious to the harm some of his creatures could do. As a half-giant, he's not as fragile as the rest of us." She offered.
"Exactly." Minerva smiled. "Anyway, he broke his contract to take the new job, and the board of governors were aggrieved by the thought of finding a suitable replacement at such short notice, but as soon as I brought up your name, having just heard what happened, they insisted the position was yours if you accepted it, and here we are." She raised her mug of tea to her. "It's so good to have you back at Hogwarts, Hermione."
She smiled. "Despite being an antisocial creature at times, I feel quite welcomed by the school," she confessed. "I can feel its magic, and it leaves me feeling safe and warm."
"I'm glad, lass," Minerva said. "After everything you deserve to feel those things." Her lips twitched. "You deserve to be happy and Hogwarts seems to hum joyfully when you enter the main building, it's rather unusual, to say the least."
She grinned cheekily. "I must admit, I'm loving it." Lifting her mug of tea she sipped and letting her smile falter, she grew serious. "You know, when I worked for the Ministry, I assumed that all sentient creatures and beings wanted the same rights as Witches or Wizards, but I was wrong." She explained. "Looking back now, I can see why the Werewolves, Hags and Vampires didn't appreciate my interference or want my help. It's not like I could truly understand them since I'm not one of them and they're perfectly happy being left alone."
"We live and learn, lass," Minerva told her sagely. "Now, what about House-Elves?" She asked. "If I remember correctly, you took a particular interest in them in your fourth year."
"I still hate the idea of their forced servitude, of them being bound by magic to a family or institution, but I never let myself consider how they felt about it. They take pride and find happiness in their work. In a way, I was insulting them." She admitted. "It's why I agreed for the ones bound to the castle to clean the cottage weekly and I eat the meals they prepare." She shifted in her seat. "I don't want or need them to wait on me hand and foot. I'm perfectly capable of cooking myself a meal and cleaning my own mess, whether by using magic or the Muggle way." She shrugged.
"Fair enough." Minerva grinned.
"I often wonder if my interference with the Goblins made things worse. They still hold so much bitterness against Wizardkind and me and Harry in particular." She mused. "I honestly believed focussing on the lack of Goblin representation on the Wizengamot would be beneficial to all."
"Yeh cannae blame yourself, lass." Minerva insisted firmly. "They haven't done themselves any favours. People have become rather more distrustful of the Goblins in the last few years." She sipped her tea. "Now, how are you finding your classes? Do you need to make any additional changes?"
"No, I don't think so—" She trailed off.
"But?" Minerva urged.
"While I don't necessarily want to expose the students to something dangerous, some of the Ministry classifications are absurd." She sighed. "Like their classification that Centaurs are dangerous beasts of near-human intelligence. I mean, they are dangerous, in as much as they are territorial and distrustful of humans, and rightly so, but they are extremely intelligent. Magorian and I were chatting the other day while I was gathering some potion ingredients, and he explained that their classification as beasts was done at their request, but still—Merlin's hairy ears, they're such a strong, proud race and have such a rich culture."
Once she'd finished talking, she realised just how much she'd been rambling, her enthusiasm for the subject getting the better of her, and blushed. Casting a glance at Minerva, she saw she was smiling. "Sorry, I got a bit carried away." She shrugged bashfully.
"Merlin, you're adorable," Minerva stated softly. "I love—" With a brilliant blush rising up her face to the tips of her ears, she stopped talking.
Her eyes widened and she gaped open-mouthed at the older witch, unsure what to say. She didn't understand why Minerva would say such a thing.
Minerva rose from her chair stiffly, her back straight and shoulders tense. She placed her cup down and moved towards the door. "Good evening, Hermione. Sleep well."
~()~
Two weeks Later
She was confused. Since that night in her cottage, she hadn't seen much of Minerva, who had excused herself from their usual meetings, citing a sudden influx of Ministry related work.
She didn't believe her.
She knew Minerva was avoiding her, and the only reason she could think of was the slight vulnerability she'd shown through her words. In all honesty, they had been going around in her mind since.
"Merlin, you're adorable. I love—"
Minerva was an inherently private person who usually kept a tight lid on her emotions. She was brave without being reckless and came across as stern and stoic, but she wasn't heartless or uncaring. She definitely wasn't someone who would typically begin to say something and then stop. Whatever she left unsaid must have been momentous.
So why didn't she finish whatever it was she wanted to say?
Groaning in frustration, she stood from her armchair and moved across the open plan room towards the small kitchen area. Reaching into one of the cupboards, she pulled a dusty bottle of Firewhiskey free and grabbed a glass.
She wanted to discuss an idea she had to improve Human-Centaur relations. Something she'd been about to do before Minerva had left her that night. She also didn't want to wait to address whatever problem had caused Minerva to keep her distance. She wanted her friendship. Needed it even.
She thought of her friendship with Minerva, how the Headmistress had travelled to London to see her, holding a bottle of wine and a tub of ice cream, after receiving her owl, where she poured her heart out about Ron. She'd cried herself to sleep on Minerva's shoulder one night a few months before, after finally opening up about her parent's reaction to her after finding them and returning their memories, their eventual forgiveness and their decision to remain in Australia.
She considered the older witch, who had become one of her favourite people, in fact, she had become one of her best friends. She adored the older, ebony-haired witch. Their relationship was the one thing she cherished above everything, and she didn't want to lose it.
Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander to the moments they had shared over the months since she'd returned to Hogwarts, especially one night in particular, where Minerva had opened up about her relationship with her family.
"So I stormed into the Manse and found my màthair in the kitchen. Before I could even open my mouth, she took one look at me, held up her hand and said, 'Haud yer weesht! Yiv a face like a skelpit erse'. Being the hothead I am, I immediately fired back at her, 'Màthair, jus' do one, an' dunnae speak tae me'. She just gazed at me, a small smile on her face, and replied. "Lassie, yer awfy crabbit, an' if yer dinnae wan' me tae speak tae ye, yer shunt 'ave come 'ere. Yer know where the door is, dinnae let it hit ya on the way oot'. I spun around to leave, but not before telling her, 'yer do my nut in'." Minerva told her. "I was always quick-tempered, but if I'd known what I do now, I'd have responded differently." She frowned. "I didn't get a chance to explain why I was so out of sorts, the house was targeted a week later by Deatheaters. My Athair and brother, Malcolm, died trying to protect her. I lost the majority of my family that day."
She remembered how she had scooted closer to the older witch when a single tear had trailed down a well-defined cheek, and how, once she'd pulled Minerva into her arms, offering comfort without words. With Minerva in her arms, she felt like she was finally home.
"Merlin!" She breathed, the realisation hitting her hard enough for her to drop the bottle of Firewhiskey and watch blindly as the smoking liquid pooled on the hardwood floor. "I've fallen in love with Minerva McGonagall."
~()~
Four days later
"Headmistress, wait!" She called out to the elder witch as she swept along the lower east corridor towards the Transfiguration classroom.
Jogging to catch up with Minerva's long stride, she finally made it to her side and kept pace beside the taller witch while trying to catch her breath. "So I thought, if you're willing, I could organise a field trip for the first and second years into the Reserve to meet the centaur herd." She wheezed out, her breath still coming quickly. "I'd open the invite to every year groups if you thought it necessary."
Minerva's shoulders relaxed as if having her simply discuss school matters wasn't what she'd anticipated. "Do as you wish, you have my permission to organise it."
"Thanks." She slowed her pace and just before they reached the classroom, placed her hand on Minerva's wrist. "I've missed you." She muttered, hoping not to be overheard. "I hope you can find the time to have tea with me soon."
Minerva swallowed deeply and bowed her head slightly. "I'll try." She replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a class to teach."
"Third-year Gryffindor and Slytherin's." She grinned cheekily at the Headmistress. "Good luck with that. You'll need it."
As if she couldn't help herself, Minerva offered up a small smile and raising her hand, she brushed an unruly curl of hair out of her face and behind her ear. "Professor Granger, I'll have you know, I do not need luck in my classroom. My sheer presence has even the bravest Gryffindor cowering in their boots" Her green eyes, behind the usual glasses, twinkled. "I'll try to pop by later this afternoon for that cup of tea." She advised lightly, before spinning on her heel. "I've missed you too."
The whispered admission hit her ears and she felt she could jump for joy at the feeling the words created, the soaring of butterflies in her stomach.
Turning away from the retreating form of the enigmatic headmistress, she walked slowly towards the entrance hall, only to stall at the sight of two third-year Hufflepuffs cowering in front of an angry sixth-year Slytherin, his wand pointing at them threateningly.
"Twenty points from Slytherin." She announced. "Mr McDowell, put that wand away this instant." She thundered, her voice echoing around the vast space.
The Slytherin boy spun around and sneered. "I don't take orders from a filthy Mudblood like you."
The words seared into her, and unable to stop herself, her right hand encased her left arm, where she had been left branded. "Another thirty points from Slytherin, for disrespect and insubordination."
"Pfft." He scoffed. "Is that the best you can do?" Bartholomew McDowell scoffed at her.
Closing her eyes, she quickly counted to three and opening them saw Bartholomew's wand arm slash through the air, a green jet of light arching from its tip. Knowing she didn't have enough time to grab her own wand from its holster to protect herself, she threw her hands up and heard a thunderclap as the hex rebounded off an invisible shield and then crashed back into the boy, hitting his left shoulder.
The scream that came from his throat had her rushing towards him, only to see blood and bone seeping through a large wound. Turning to the Hufflepuffs, she ground out instructions. "One of you get the Headmistress, the other get Madam Pomfrey."
She watched as the two ran off in opposite directions and fell to her knees, pressing her hand against the wound to stem the blood flow. "What spell did you cast?" She asked the boy.
Instead of answering, Bartholomew just whimpered.
"Mr McDowell, I need to know what hex you cast so we can fix this." She insisted.
The boy didn't say a word, only mewled in pain.
"Miss Granger, what is the meaning of this?" Madam Pomfrey had arrived at a slight run and looked in horror between her and the young boy.
"He tried to hex me after I docked points from him." She spat between clenched teeth. "It rebounded and hit him."
"Do you know what hex he used?" She shook her head and Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Can you find out?"
Removing her hand from the wound she spoke softly. "I'll need your wand, Mr McDowell." She picked it up from where it had fallen and pulled her wand free, touching her wand tip to the boys, she muttered the "Prior Incantato" needed to find the information they were seeking. She watched intently as a gold light glowed around the two wands. "Deprimo." She ended the spell and the gold glow faded and she dropped the wand, keeping her own in hand. "Well, that explains the hole in his shoulder."
She looked at the matron as she bent and traced her wand over the wound in the boy's shoulder, muttering "Vulnera Sanentur" as a counter curse to heal the area.
She continued to kneel there as heeled boots dashed over the stone towards them. "What is the meaning of this?" Minerva repeated the question that the matron had asked, but her tone was firmer. She wanted answers.
"He shot a green curse at the Professor after calling her a Mud—you know." The young Hufflepuff squeaked. "She saw him threatening me and Perkins because we accidentally walked into him."
"Thank you, Mr Harkness," Minerva stated. "You can head to class now. If you are asked why you're late, inform your Professor to speak to me." She stood, looking down at the boy lying on the floor at her feet. "What's the verdict then, Poppy?"
"He cast a Deprimo, it rebounded and put a hole in his shoulder." Madam Pomfrey replied bluntly, having stopped the bleeding and forced a Blood-Replenishing Potion down the young man's throat. Standing, she flicked her wand to levitate the boy. "I'll take him to the Hospital Wing. He'll be as good as new in a day or so." With another flick of her wand, the boy started floating away with the matron following.
"You're being rather quiet Professor Granger." Minerva frowned.
She was still kneeling, her head bowed and the fingers of her right hand trailing over the inner forearm of her left.
"Hermione," Minerva stepped closer.
"There's still so much prejudice." Her voice broke. "Too much." She bounded to her feet and made to turn away. "I can't do this, not now." She rushed away, leaving Minerva staring after her.
~()~
She couldn't shake the absolute despair she felt over the events of that morning, and grateful to have free time until after lunch, she moved through the grasslands of the magical creature reserve, before sitting at her favourite spot on top of some rocks. Easing herself back until she was lying down, she closed her eyes against the early spring sun and tried to relax.
Hearing a shuffling nearby, she wasn't surprised to feel rough, shaggy hair tickling her face. Opening her eyes, she met the dark, tentative gaze of the young Porlock she'd nurtured back to health since her return to Hogwarts. The magical horse guardian trusted her after she'd brought an Abraxen into the reserve, giving the beast something to live for.
When the Porlock leaned in and nuzzled into her cheek, she finally broke down, letting tears stream down her face into the roan hair of the beast. She felt vulnerable and out of control but worst still, was her deep-seated craving for love and comfort. And the only person she could imagine accepting it from was the witch that had become her closest friend.
She was twenty-three and still had no notion of how to get what her heart truly craved.
Before the realisation of her feelings for Minerva, she'd considered every plan she'd made for her life to be more important than love. She'd always put all her energy into her future success, hoping to gain prestige and power, but she knew she'd give up her pursuit of these things for a true and sustaining love.
She understood she hadn't felt that way with Ron. She'd loved him but he didn't always treat her well, often making her feel worse about herself and he didn't provide her with the same respect as she gave him. Their relationship had just enforced her belief that love, despite what Dumbledore believed, wasn't the cure-all for all of life's problems.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her face back towards the sun and the Porlock whinnied before making a quick escape. Instead of the bright sun, a tall shadow loomed over her and she caught the piercing emerald gaze of the witch at the centre of the maelstrom of emotions within her.
"Oh, ghráidh" Minerva uttered breathlessly. Her brogue was thick as she looked down at her. "Ah hae na idea whit ye'r feeling 'n' a dinnae ken th' pain that laddie caused th'day, bit dinnae run fae me."
"Like you ran from me?" She asked, a little bitterly.
"A'm sorry," Minerva mumbled.
"Can you say that again?" She asked, wiping the remaining tears from under her eyes.
Minerva glanced away and then with a soft sigh, eased herself down on the rocks. "I'm sorry, Hermione."
"Will you do one thing for me, Minerva?" She asked hesitantly.
"Aye, anything," Minerva pledged.
"Will you finish what you were going to say that night?" She requested.
Blinking, Minerva opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out other than a low croak.
"Please, Minerva. I think I need to hear it." She explained.
Closing her eyes, Minerva inhaled sharply and let the words out in a rush. "A loue ye."
~()~
Two Months Later
Minerva's admission of love changed a lot of things.
Their connection had only grown stronger since that morning and she'd surrendered herself to the older witch's declaration, accepting the words wholeheartedly and allowing herself to bask in the warmth, respect, honesty and encouragement that was provided with apparent ease.
She'd grown to value Minerva's friendship over the years since she'd left Hogwarts, but this new facet of their relationship made her feel like a part of her had healed, the bits she'd spent years struggling with.
While there was still a small niggling part of her that felt selfish for having her needs met, at the same time, she needed the nurturing and wanted to offer Minerva the same.
She knew Minerva loved her, and now the declaration had been made, it was obvious that the older witch had felt that way for some time, but she often found the depth of her own feelings difficult to understand.
She'd not yet returned the sentiment, even though she'd realised it for herself before that day. Yet, despite that, she'd made the conscious decision to be open and receptive to these new feelings and to trust in Minerva's intentions.
She trusted Minerva more than anyone else in the world, knowing the other witch would never do anything to hurt her intentionally. With Minerva, she experienced a feeling of safety that she'd never encountered before.
She loved Minerva McGonagall with all her heart and her mind circled over one detail.
How the hell should she go about telling the witch?
Her inability to voice her feelings, which hadn't seemingly affected Minerva, who'd insisted she'd wait however long it took, frustrated her. She felt like a coward.
She was supposed to be a Gryffindor, and her lack of boldness was against everything she stood for. She wasn't meant to be someone who sat around waiting for life to come to her, but someone who made things happen.
Each night, when considering every missed moment, she'd given herself a stern talking to, that she'd try again the following day.
Arriving at the seventh floor from the Grand Staircase, she rushed down the curving corridor past the Trophy Room and up another, narrower circular staircase until she reached the Gargoyle protecting the Headmistress's office, she remembered something Minerva said to her in the early days of her tenure as the new Care of Magical Creatures Professor.
"Sometimes, bravery is the ability to live with pain, deal with prejudice, or overcome other barriers. It can be something as simple as managing to survive another day. You are more a Gryffindor than you realise, lass."
Unsurprisingly, the Gargoyle leapt aside and she stepped onto the spiral stone staircase and moved slowly upward until she reached the polished oak door with the griffin-shaped knocker. Squaring her shoulders, she rapped the knocker against the solid wood and waited.
~()~
When Minerva answered the door, wearing a green silk robe and with her long ebony hair still damp and cascading over her shoulders, she felt the breath leave her body and desire course through her.
Frankly, she'd never seen anyone so beautiful.
"I wasn't expecting you, ghráidh." Minerva pulled her robe closer. "Come in."
Pushing forward, she brushed past the older witch and settled against the edge of her desk, and hearing the door click closed, tried to find a way of saying what she desperately wanted to.
"Would you like a drink? Some tea perhaps?" Minerva offered.
She shook her head furiously, but words simply wouldn't come. Hearing Minerva step lightly, she looked up into concerned emerald eyes.
"Has something happened?" Minerva asked.
Shaking her head once again, she swallowed hard and found the words she wanted to speak. "Tha gaol agam ort cuideachd."
The language she'd been trying to learn, didn't exactly trip off her tongue easily, and she winced at the thought of butchering the words, but the sentiment was out there now and it was clear from Minerva's widening eyes that she understood them.
Watching intently as Minerva stepped quickly but lightly towards her, she marvelled over the growing smile erupting from the witch's usually stern face as joy lit up her eyes. She looked so happy.
Reaching her, Minerva cupped her face between her palms and stared deeply into her eyes. "Chan urrainn dhomh a bhith beò às aonais thu," she whispered.
Giggling, she leaned in and pressed a swift kiss against Minerva's lips before pulling back slightly. "I have no idea what you just said." She admitted.
Stroking her cheek, Minerva explained. "I can't live without you. Tha gaol cho mòr agam ort. I love you so much."
"Gu bràth?" She asked, showing her insecurity with the question.
Leaning in, Minerva smiled before kissing her softly. "Aye," she leaned her forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes. "Forever."
~()~
Translations:
Skelpit erse = Slapped arse (I love this insult).
Ghràidh = Love (Gaol is said to be more intimate, but I wasn't sure if I could use it when Minerva's addressing Hermione).
Tha gaol agam ort cuideachd = I love you too.
Chan urrainn dhomh a bhith beò às aonais thu = I can't live without you.
Tha gaol cho mòr agam ort = I love you so much.
Gu bràth - Forever.