A/N: Ooh, look. Some progress. I also jumped the gun yesterday, so we'll just consider that a freebie I think lol back to every other!
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Minerva had not attempted to speak to her since the delivery of her knife. She'd checked with Dobby that nothing had happened with him either and now that the impasse they had been holding was going on two weeks, Hermione had finally had enough. She had still not been summoned to Dumbledore's office to discuss this new thing and quite frankly, she was done with that too. He had barely been at dinner over the last two weeks, which meant Minerva had been there every night and sitting right under her nose and wanting nothing more than to stand up and scream at her was grating on her last nerve.
To be honest, aside from dinner, Hermione had gone above and beyond to readjust her entire life to make sure to avoid Minerva at all costs. She spent Transfiguration in the Second Floor Bathroom, destroying detritus and shifting rubble. She spent lunchtime outside, mostly. It was still freezing as January went into February but she couldn't feel it anymore. She sat in the little garden she and Harry had made use of and did magic when she could be bothered and sat staring at the ground when she couldn't. Whenever she saw Minerva walking down the corridor, she would turn and go the other way; sometimes she went miles around just to make the woman feel better. After two weeks without progress though, she was beginning to resent it.
She was midway through repotting a Mimbulus Mimbletonia in her second lesson of double Herbology when she suddenly realised that she needed to be the one to end it.
"I'm going," she muttered to Harry.
"What?" He blinked as he looked up. "Going where? Doing what?"
"To see her."
"Hermione, it's," he looked around, panicked. "We're in the middle of class. I bet she is too!"
"I don't care," she huffed. "I'm sick of this. I can't do it anymore."
"Hermione!"
Ron tried to grab her, but she dodged his hands and ignored Harry and slipped out of the greenhouse while Professor Sprout was praising Neville. She hiked her book bag across her body and stalked up to the Castle. She shoved, gently, past a group of Third Years, ignoring the whispers and knocked, quite severely, on the door to Minerva's classroom. Nobody answered and Hermione glared at the wood. She felt her hands clench and the door started smoking a little but she paid it no mind. She pulled on the handle and it opened. She didn't have the wherewithal to remember that Minerva often locked the classroom to prevent exactly these sorts of situations.
Well, not these sorts of situations.
As the door crashed against the stonework, Minerva looked up in shock. Their eyes met for the first time in weeks and for a long moment, they stared at each other over the heads of the Seventh Years who had all spun in their seats to stare at who had dared to disturb Professor Minerva McGonagall's lesson.
"I need to see you." She wasn't sure how she kept her voice even when she was seething.
"Well," Minerva said as she stood up fully, her chin in the air slightly. Hermione tightened her fists at the implication. "You will have to wait, like everyone else who needs something from me," Minerva said imperiously. "Kindly see me during office hours."
"You don't have office hours," Hermione snapped. "And I need to see you now."
"Well I am extremely busy, so if you could please just -"
Hermione made a noise, deep in her throat that made Minerva pause and look at her properly.
"Hermione," she said, sounding a little softer. "I am busy. I will see you after class today."
"No you won't," Hermione insisted. "You will dodge and duck and will feign like you don't have time. You will see me now."
Minerva's eyes hardened.
"Miss Granger -"
Hermione growled and the rest of the room disappeared as Hermione waved her hand over it. Inky smoke permeated the room and blocked out all of the light. The students all made a noise of horror; some of them screamed but Hermione stepped through it, and them, like she was outside of it. She dragged Minerva through the door at the back of the room and into her sitting room.
"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" Minerva yelled as she yanked her hand away. "You cannae just come into my classroom and kidnap me! Who do you think you are? I have a mind to -"
In an instant, and for no reason that Hermione could fathom, she gripped the back of Minerva's neck gently, but firmly. Minerva stopped mid-sentence and Hermione lost her breath as they stared at each other.
The air around them crackled.
"Miss -" Minerva swallowed and when she spoke again, she sounded so small. "Hermione?"
Her name made Hermione blink and she shuddered and backed away. She looked down at her hands and then back at Minerva.
"Minerva," she said quietly, sounding a little more like herself for the first time in a long time. "What is happening? You must tell me, I don't -" Minerva was staring with wide eyes. "I don't feel like I'm completely in control sometimes and I would die before I hurt you. Please. Please," she said again. "It's been weeks, please?" She looked at her desperately and in a fit of despair dropped to her knees. "Minerva, please, you have to tell me. I'm losing my mind."
"Hermione, get up, I don't -"
"Minerva. I need to know."
Her voice cracked right at the end and Minerva looked at her properly and sighed. She rubbed her forehead and the familiar action made Hermione smile, despite the distraction. She reached forward and took that hand and held it gently.
"Please get up," Minerva whispered, pulling on her hand. "Please."
Hermione got to her feet and realised that she was still holding Minerva's hand.
"Min -"
"I have students," Minerva tried, gesturing back the way they came. "They are -"
"Get someone to cover."
Minerva frowned and stared at their joined hands before she groaned and nodded.
"I will fetch someone to cover and then return."
Hermione tightened her grip, but Minerva didn't flinch.
"I know that I have not given you much reason to trust me of late," she whispered. "But I will return momentarily. Filius has a spare right now and I happen to know he's in the staffroom down the corridor."
Hermione looked at her for a long time before stepping away and letting go. Minerva hesitated for a moment and left via the main door, shutting it quietly behind her.
"Hermione," Michael greeted as he appeared in his portrait. He looked positively gleeful. "There are such whisperings about the Castle."
She snorted and dropped onto the sofa.
"I think I just kidnapped her from her own classroom."
"Aye," he laughed. "I heard tha'. Told 'em it were nonsense, of course, but had to come and ask you about it myself cos I'm quite sure it wouldna be."
"I would like to talk to you," she whispered. "The Gargoyle in front of Professor Dumbledore's room told me something the other day and because of that, I did something that should be impossible. I wanted to discuss and see what you thought."
"You are more than welcome to visit me any time," he smiled. "But not now, as I must go. My Mistress and I presently do not see eye to eye and she is returning. I'm spending some time up in the North tower," he explained. "There's a rather pretty lass up there and I quite enjoy her time."
Hermione frowned as Minerva walked back in just as Michael disappeared and the woman stopped and looked at herself.
"What?"
"Why are you and Michael not talking?"
A dark look crossed her face and Hermione regretted asking.
"He -"
"Oh," Hermione realised. "No, never mind."
"You had no right -"
"Next time I'll just drop you in the corridor then?" she sassed. "Is that what you'd prefer?"
"Miss Granger, my rooms are -"
"If you call me Miss Granger one more time, I'll -" She stopped, the very thought of hurting Minerva making her stomach revolt and she closed her eyes and hugged herself around the middle where it hurt the most. "Enough," she whispered. "I need you to tell me what I don't know."
Minerva sat down in her chair and then stood again and went over to her decanter. She poured a drink and took a very big swallow before she topped it back up and stood by the fire.
For a long time, there was nothing but the crackle of it and the quiet ticking of a clock somewhere behind her. If Hermione concentrated, she could hear Minerva's heart beating and it was thumping beyond belief as she stared at her glass. Just as she was about to speak, Minerva started instead.
"Albus believes that whatever spell that man used activated or enhanced a side of you that nobody knew about."
"Ok," Hermione said carefully. "What does that mean?"
"Initially he believed it to be a sort of Animagus trait," she explained. "A way of transforming into an animal with little to no effort." She seemed to grapple with herself for a while and put her glass on the mantle. "I believe he is wrong. Especially now. I don't think you become something," she winced. "I believe you are something."
Hermione stared at her, her mind racing through all the possibilities. It explained everything. The musculature she felt under her skin. The anger, the strength, the hunger.
"But -"
"He suggested that -" she didn't finish that thought and Hermione saw her hands shaking.
Something in her made her get up and pull Minerva into her arms. She held the woman tightly until she felt her shoulder getting damp.
"It's okay," she whispered. "Whatever it is, is okay."
"No," Minerva whispered against her neck. "It is not ok." She tensed and pushed away, her voice rising as she turned away. "None of this is okay!"
Hermione stepped back but kept hold of one of Minerva's hands. Even though she was doing her best to remove herself from the situation, Hermione would not let her. She rubbed her thumb along Minerva's palm trying to calm her and when Minerva's shoulders dropped a little, Hermione tugged on her hand a little and gently turned her. As she wiped away the tears their eyes met and they simply stared at one another. Minerva's pain was hurting her, physically, but she could not tell Minerva that now. She needed to know what the woman knew.
They needed this.
"Come," she whispered as she pulled her gently towards the couch. "Tell me everything."
Minerva followed her to the sofa and dropped down into it, putting her face in her hands. Hermione put her hand on Minerva's back and when she wasn't shrugged off, she rubbed gently up and down until Minerva started speaking.
"From what we can tell, what Albus has found -" She paused. "And he is looking, Hermione. I know that he," her voice broke. "That we have left you in the dark, but I couldn't -"
"Min," Hermione said softly. "Breathe. None of that matters now, take a deep breath and just tell me what I need to know."
Minerva did so and then took another until she sat up.
"We think the spell that was cast on you is something called Spiritus Ignis. It is an old spell and there's no real reason that man should have known about it. When Alastor questioned him, he couldn't remember where it had come from, nor who had taught it to him. He did not recall why he chose it, only that it left his wand without much effort at all." Minerva rubbed her face and looked up, pressing against her eyes. "That is troublesome in itself as I am quite sure that it is an incredibly old, incredibly complicated spell that is not something one does without thinking."
"Implying that something or someone made that spell come out at me during that time?"
Minerva made a noise but didn't answer.
"You were suffering from hypothermia; you were freezing. And when I got you home," she shook her head. "Here, we realised that you were burning as well. Your -" Minerva's hand reached out tentatively and traced the dark lines on Hermione's neck. In a show of just how much she trusted her, Hermione allowed it and tipped her head back a little. She realised as she did so, that Minerva was the first person that she had allowed that. "You were burning from the inside out."
"What happened?"
"Poppy suggested the best thing for hypothermia was the slow warmth from body heat. She started a muggle drip, thing, and had me get under the covers with you; to warm you slowly. We wrapped your hands and feet first, they were in danger of becoming frostbitten but Poppy had never seen that spell before. She tried to stop it herself but couldn't, so she fetched Albus, who attempted to bind it in place while we sent word to have the Death Eater interrogated."
"That didn't happen though?"
"No," Minerva whispered. "Before we could even send a message to Alastor, you started burning. Actually burning. Your temperature was beyond that of a normal human body. Poppy couldn't touch you without you burning her hands."
"What about you? Where were you?"
She blushed and Hermione, weirdly, found it to be quite pretty.
"I was," she bit her lip. "I was under the covers with you initially." Hermione's eyes widened. "As I said, Poppy said that body heat is best so we weren't wearing much, even though you were simultaneously burning." The blush had turned so dark that Minerva, aside from her hair, looked positively Weasley. "Well, as it began, they tried to get me off the bed but you grabbed my hands. You were completely unconscious, you hadn't made much of a sound. You hadn't even opened your eyes but you grabbed me and held on."
Hermione watched Minerva struggle with what came next and reached over to cover her shaking hands.
"Your hands," Hermione turned them over and looked at them. They looked as they had always done. "They didn't -"
"No," Minerva whispered forlornly. "Poppy burned, but I did not."
"Just tell me," she whispered, gently as Minerva took a deep breath.
"You got hotter and hotter but I didn't burn. A light so bright it hurt my eyes and heat so hot I could smell it." Her voice cracked. "But I didn't burn, Hermione."
"I would never hurt you."
"Albus -" she paused and looked up at Hermione. Hermione got lost in those green eyes. "Albus thought that perhaps it was a new form of Animagus. A Phoenix or something similar."
"You already said you don't believe that," she whispered. She didn't need Minerva to shake her head, but she waited while she did. "Tell me what you think. And why."
"I have never known light and heat like that, Hermione," she whispered. A tear rolled down her cheek but Hermione didn't move. She seemed to sense that Minerva needed her to be perfectly still and to just listen. "Save once. I told you, I used to go and get lost in the wilds when I was a child; aeons ago. When I was about 12, I was lost in a glen, I had never been to this particular part of the wilds before, beyond the glens of home where I was supposed to stay. I stumbled upon a mother guarding her nest. It was only luck and quick feet that prevented me from being killed by her flame but the smell of heat and brimstone is something I can never forget."
"Dragon," Hermione whispered, already knowing in her heart that it was true. "A dragon."
"I've been looking everywhere for something to explain it," Minerva said, wiping the tears, finally. "I have been looking specifically, as I have not told Albus. He has been looking himself. I cannot stand to -" She shuddered but Hermione held onto her hands and watched her breathe softly. "I can find nothing. No mention of this sort of thing anywhere. Between that, and the marks that only you can see, and the -" She bit her lip. "Well, it all makes sense."
"And the what?" she asked, seeing that blush rising on Minerva's cheeks again. "And the what, Min?"
"I cannot possibly entertain -"
Minerva stood and made to walk away but without meaning to, Hermione growled. Minerva froze. Hermione blinked at the tense shoulders and the flexing hands and stood.
"I would never hurt you."
"I don't know you," Minerva muttered, a strain in her voice that Hermione found no reason for.
"You are scared," she whispered. "Of us? Of me?"
Minerva's lips trembled and she cowered just a little as Hermione drew near and Hermione stepped back in horror.
"Min," she muttered, trying to sound like herself. "Minerva, surely you believe me when I tell you that I would never hurt you?"
"I don't know."
That deep pit that opened up every time she was away from Minerva opened back up with a raw and Hermione bent a little over the feeling.
"I can't," she heaved. "I don't -"
She tried to breathe through it but the idea that Minerva didn't trust her - didn't feel safe with her - was so deeply painful she could feel it crushing her soul.
"Her -" Minerva's voice seemed very far away. "Hermione?"
"Please," Hermione whispered, trying not to heave again. "Please. That can't be true. That can't be -"
"I -"
Hermione dropped to her knees and wondered if this feeling could kill her until Minerva knelt in front of her with a sigh.
"It is not true," Minerva whispered finally. She brought Hermione's chin up and met her gaze "I do trust you, Hermione. But I don't know what this is. I have no idea -"
"I would die before I hurt you," Hermione explained desperately. "Minerva," she pleaded, cupping the woman's face. "You know me. I would -"
Minerva pulled away and turned, staring at the fire.
"You are changed," she whispered over the crackling fire. "You are not my Hermione anymore."
Those words set off a chain reaction in Hermione's brain. A series of visions starting way back in a spell well done or a smile reserved just for her and moving through their soft friendship that was bound by the divide between their existences, to that moment before the grand doors of Hogwarts, standing up to a tyrant and preventing Minerva's demise, to the front door of Grimmauld place, the moment on the couch, in a disused classroom, in a pub in the Peak District until every second of their lives together shone out of her eyes. Whispers of her name and cries of despair and so many feelings that as her brain made sense of it all finally, she gasped and scrambled to her feet to spin Minerva around to look at her.
It hit her square in the face as she realised what Minerva was trying so hard not to say. It stretched out under her skin and almost purred in happiness. "Mate," she whispered. Minerva looked up sharply. "Mine."