A/N: lol I wrote that A/N in the last chapter to give you some hope but it's totally okay you're just done. You don't need my permission and you absolutely don't need to announce it to me ;) I've been in this game a long time... you can come and go as you please. I'm really glad none of your loved ones have been so scared that they completely lose their minds. I hope it never comes up for you.
Thank you to Lib McGranger for essentially writing parts of this for me. Michael is a dreamboat to play with.
-0-
Hermione greeted the Gargoyle once again, this time with Harry in tow.
"Good evening," she smiled. "May we go up?"
"You may," it said quietly. "Be wary, he is preoccupied."
Hermione hummed and climbed the stairs. Harry's shoes squeaked on the steps but she didn't care to silence him. He had pleaded with her, at length, to come with him to help him tell Albus about Draco and Hermione had come to the conclusion that though Albus was unlikely to listen, they would make him hear it, at least once.
"Come," he muttered when they knocked.
"Albus," she said quietly. "We need to speak with you."
"You've got the memory?" he said, his eyes glowing with hope.
"No," Harry muttered, scratching his head. "But we need to talk to you."
"Harry, until you've -"
"We won't take up much of your time," she said. "But I do want to discuss a few things."
"Hermione -"
"One," she ploughed on like she hadn't heard the small warning in his voice. "Professor Snape. He is looking worse and worse and only the day before yesterday he was practically screaming at Draco in the corridors over something. That never happens. Whatever they are doing is spilling out of their secrecy and they both reek of concern and worry and sneakiness.
"And he's -"
"Enough."
They blinked as Albus thundered over them. Hermione clenched her fists as her innermost thoughts railed against someone telling her what to do with such force and she breathed hard for a long while before she found an even voice.
"Headmaster," she said through clenched teeth. "I really feel like we need to -"
"I will not entertain this any longer," he snapped. "Kindly get on with the things you need to do in order to complete the tasks I have given you. You," he glared at Hermione. "Know better and you," he stared at Harry, disappointment oozing out of every pore. "Have more than enough to get on with."
Hermione bristled.
"If you would perhaps tell him how he's supposed to -"
"I have a meeting, kindly go back to your dormitories before I give you both a detention."
Harry stepped back, hurt and upset at how this had gone but Hermione stood her ground.
"I will say it again, Headmaster, I need you to -"
"Miss Granger," he said quietly. "Get out of my office."
She stood, and stared at the headmaster for longer than was necessary before she grabbed Harry's sleeve and pulled him from the office. She stood and glared at the floor as the Gargoyle closed the door behind her and she glanced at it for a moment. It looked awkward and she sighed and patted its shoulder.
"I'm not going to ask." It couldn't breathe but it did deflate a little as she looked at it. "Answer me this," she said carefully. "Is he alright?"
She knew enough herself to know that he hadn't been Imperioused or anything like that, but perhaps his Guardian would know more.
"He is himself," it said just as carefully. "I did warn you that he was preoccupied; there are pieces on the board that even you cannot see."
A tiny little flutter of something threatened the breadth of her understanding and she sighed and patted it again.
"Alright, thank you."
Harry was standing away from her, and she watched his back as he wiped something on his face and she sighed. She was beginning to understand just how much she could feel in other people and she could feel the sadness coming from him. She went over to him and hugged him.
"It's alright, you know."
"I'm trying," he whined.
"No, Harry," she chuckled sadly. "You aren't. And I get it because it's hard, but we need to nip this in the bud, okay? We're going to get to the bottom of it today because," she sighed. "We need that memory, Harry."
"I know! But Draco really is up to something."
"Harry." She started, but his hand on her arm stopped her.
"No," he said. "Please, Hermione. Please just listen."
She stood and considered him. His conviction was so strong she sighed as she came to a decision.
"Alright," she muttered. "Come with me."
"Where are we going?" he squeaked as she dragged him away.
As she pulled him along away from the Headmaster's quarters, she realised where the closest safe space was.
"Transfiguration classroom. It's the closest."
"Won't she -"
"Dunno," she chuckled. "Guess we'll find out."
He made a noise but followed obediently as she led. She unlocked the door with a spell and let him in. She locked it behind her and they pulled two chars to the front where Hermione sat and looked at him for a long while.
"I want you to do something for me, Harry." He nodded. "I want you to tell me what evidence you have to make you think that Draco is up to something. After I have that, I want you to tell me what you think he's doing. Alright?"
Harry nodded and started talking. Hermione steered him back on track when he wandered off it, but on the whole, she could see where he was coming from.
"Alright," she nodded. "Listen, I can see why you think that, and I can see - objectively - that he's up to something based on what you've seen but the problem is, Harry, that until we know more there is really no point worrying about it."
"But -"
"No," she said gently. "Listen. Your single job, right now, is to get this stupid memory off Slughorn. Nothing else, okay? We need that more than anything else. And we needed it yesterday."
"I know,"
"So," she said, touching his hand and preventing the grumpiness from growing. "I'm asking you to drop this for now. I will keep an eye on Draco."
"Remember when you got hurt," Harry asked.
"Like it was yesterday," she dead-panned.
"Oh," he winced. "Sorry. I just meant, you sent Ginny to keep an eye on him?"
"I remember."
"She saw him in that room where all the junk is. He was messing with that big cupboard."
"Okay," she nodded. "Harry, I promise you I will keep an eye on him, okay?"
"Fine," he sighed.
"And now you both should be off to bed," Minerva's quiet voice startled Harry. Hermione, however, had known the minute Minerva had arrived ten minutes ago, she just hadn't made him aware of it.
"Sorry Professor," Harry breathed.
"It's alright," she nodded. "But up you go, now."
"Yep, night."
He raced off, leaving Hermione to herself. She sat and watched the older woman with some interest. Minerva seemed different somehow; beyond the loungewear and her plaited hair.
"Alright?" she asked carefully.
"I am tired," she nodded. "You?"
"Fine," Hermione nodded.
"I -" Minerva blinked. "Enjoyed our picnic the other night. More than I thought I would."
Hermione could see she was trying and she appreciated it, such as it was.
"I'm glad," she smiled. "Perhaps you might come with me to one of the libraries. Albus is apparently in a mood tonight, which is why we ended up here, but I really wonder if there's any mention in one of the University libraries. Preferably the older ones."
"Oh!" Minerva's eyes lit up. "I," she nodded enthusiastically. "Would like that."
"Good," Hermione chuckled. "You can tell Albus when it's time. He was quite cross."
"I will talk to him."
"Alright," Hermione smiled. "I'll go on up. Night Min."
She paused at the door and looked back and smiled. After Minerva flashed a small smile at her, Hermione was content to go on up to bed and make a mental note to do as she promised and keep an eye on Draco.
-0-
"Minerva?"
"What is it?" she asked, looking up from her desk at her entry guardian. It was later than she would wish and though she had been marking what felt like a hundred thousand essays, her thoughts had been on Hermione. Just like her thoughts were always on Hermione and though his tone made her wary, she was ready for a break.
"I need to talk to you."
"Oh?"
"I would like to discuss something with you."
Minerva put down the quill and took a sip of her tea, wincing at how cold it was.
"What is it?"
"I need you to listen to me."
"Michael, I don't -"
"I would like to speak to you about Hermione."
Minerva froze. In truth, Minerva thought it was going okay. She had tried to remain calm, even though she still struggled with the situation, she could see an edge to the giant ball of terror that had lived inside her for so long. And she was working on it. She was. The picnic really had been enjoyable and she'd behaved as much as possible. And look, she knew that her behaviour was perhaps not the best but she didn't want to -
"You have been terrible to her."
Minerva blinked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Yeh ken, lass." He pinned her with a stare. "I watched you, Minerva, all them days you were together. Then on the day you carried her home." Minerva's heart thumped painfully. "I heard yeh call for yeh sister. I heard that pain."
"How -"
"I heard yeh, as any good Guardian would. I followed yeh up to the Hospital Wing and I watched as it happened. I heard yeh, lass. Heard yeh praying for her life. You ha'n't done that for an age and there yeh were pleading and begging." She snarled a little as it grated on her. "And she did, Min. She lived but she had to change to do it and then you blamed her for it."
"No, I -"
"Yeh did," he said evenly. "That spell burned her. Scarred her up, changed her, made her different but it was you that hurt her the most. You hurt 'er more 'an tha' spell ever could."
"I didn't -"
"She needed you, Minerva, she needed you and you punished her like she were responsible. And through it all, yeh cannae be pretending to me yeh weren't scared for her life."
"Of course I was," she protested. "She -"
"Was someone you loved," he said gently. She blinked. "She was someone you cherished. Who made you smile, who lit yeh world on fire, Minerva. You have tortured that woman beyond what any other person would have folded and she only got stronger, like steel in the fire."
"Michael -"
"Tell me I'm lying, lass. Tell me that. Tell me you didn't put her through all that an' more. That you didn't get e'rything you wanted and then pissed it all away." She glared at the language. "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me, before all this, yeh didn't think the world of that woman?"
She swallowed. She could not. Regardless of how it had come about, regardless of what had happened since - the fear she had felt in her soul when she'd found Hermione's body in the snow had made her insensible - but then everything since then had gone so very wrong. And he was right - she had punished Hermione for something that was out of both of their control.
"I watched yeh lass when you'd come home from being with her; when you'd say goodnight to her here. You saw the world in her and you liked the prospect of that future."
"Michael, I don't -"
"No, I've held mah tongue long enough, love. It's time to hear some truth now you can. This was not ever about you, but you made it about you. You asked her to stay with you and she chose you just as you asked. You turned it back to you at every moment and she let you because she loves you, Minerva. With a fierceness and a fire that people only dream of. She chooses you again and again and you needle her until she has nowhere else to go but down to your level."
Minerva's stomach felt hollow as the words pierced her soul. She felt them as surely as if someone had slapped her in the face. Poppy had alluded to it, Albus had tried to warn her, and even Hermione, in those lowest moments, had spoken of it but she had not seen. Not properly and now Michael, of all people, was shining such a light on it that there was no way she could ignore it.
"You ken she could'a died, right?" She held very still. "She so very nearly died and left you to this earth alone." She tried not to let it, but a tear rolled down her cheek, pausing at her chin and then dropped to her lap. Another followed in its wake. "Minerva," he pleaded. "Speak to me. Of all the things on this green earth, I am yours and yours alone. If yeh cannae speak to me without fear, who can yeh."
"I -" she swallowed, trying to find her voice. "I, know."
"That's not enough, lass," he said quietly. "Cos if yeh ken then you did it on purpose and ah don't believe that for a second. The Minerva I know would not be so cruel out of spite. But if yeh didn't know, but yeh do now, well that's fine but you need to speak to me about it."
"I didn't know, but I don't know how to speak on it," she whispered. "I do not know how to match what I know and feel and want and don't want."
"Try, Min," he pleaded. "Try." He paused and she looked up at him. "Stop acting like you're scared she's something new. I ken your heart, love. You'd love her if she lost half 'er hair and grew an extra limb." She snorted and wiped away her tears. "You're just scared that you're something new."
She sobbed and covered her face.
"I -" She hiccupped and covered her face. "I am, I am new and I'm terrified, Michael. I don't know who I am anymore."
"Och lass but you are hard-headed." He groaned. "You are just as yeh were before. Like yeh have always been only with a little more mystery. Now you have someone to share your life with, to laugh with, to love. Who will cherish yeh as yeh was always meant to be." Her lip wobbled and she sobbed, even as she laughed. "Who chooses you over and over and over, no matter what you do or say."
"What do I even do wi' that," she asked. The ridiculousness of discussing this with a portrait had long since worn off. At some point, she knew she should probably ask why Michael had this much autonomy but she wasn't interested in that right now. She pulled on her hair. "Dè bu chòir dhomh a dhèanamh?" [What am I supposed to do?]
"Faigh tlachd às. Tlachd a ghabhail oirre," he said easily. "Revel in it. And for God's sake, Minerva?" [Enjoy it. Enjoy her.]
She hung on his every word.
"Apologise to her. Your behaviour was abominable and yeh ken it. She gives you a target to aim at and she stands there while you shoot. She comes back again and again because she loves you so deeply that she is willing t' take it from yeh just t' make yeh feel better. So you had better apologise and grovel and make it up to 'er for the rest of yeh lives."
"Micheal -"
"If'n yeh about to tell me yeh scared, yes lass. Yeh meant to be. Giving up a part of yeh to someone else - giving them that trust is terrifying, but tell me right now, wi'out thinking, do you think you can trust Hermione t' keep it f'r yeh?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Tha earbsa agam innte." [I trust her.]
"So," he said sternly. "Do we need to go over it again, love? Or have yeh finally got it."
She met his eyes, wishing the pain could convey all he was feeling and thinking and wondering what she had done to deserve such love from such a thing.
"Michael," she croaked. "I -"
"Minerva, I want you to do one thing for me." She nodded. "Close your eyes and remember."
"Remember?"
"Remember that moment on the sofa, Min. Remember what it felt like, what she felt like in your arms."
"Michael," she sobbed. "I -" She shook her head. "I -"
"Say it, Min."
"I -" She swallowed. "Tha gaol agam oirre."
It was easier somehow,
"Yes you do," he said softly. "An' yeh always have. Yeh just dinnae know it yet."
"Michael, I don't know how to tell you -"
"Oh, dinnae go soft on my now, lass," he chuckled. "Mah paint'll run."
She laughed, stuck in a loop of hiccups and sobs and laughter until she shook her head.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For being my Guardian."
"You are mine to protect, my Lady," he bowed low, and respectfully. "And protect yeh I will," he looked up and grinned at her cheekily. "Even from yehself."
She nodded and stood.
"I need to -" She sighed. "How do I even start?"
"An olive branch?" He suggested. "She has done all the work so far, and you have merely existed in it." He looked at her pointedly. "Fought against it, even." She winced, but he didn't let her for long. "Change it," he said. "If'n yeh not like it that much, Minerva, then you change it."
"I will try," she muttered.
"No, Min," Michael stopped her. "You cannae try, you cannae do this halfway. You must commit to her and to her alone. Fully, Minerva. With your whole body and soul." She stared at him. "You should go as slow as you need to, there's no rush, it is clear to everyone that she will wait for you but do not toy with her. Do not. You cannot. She will surely not survive that and if you are telling the truth here, neither will you."
Minerva nodded and they sat quietly for a long time.
"I can do it," she whispered as she looked back up at him. "I can."
"Then do," he nodded. "Commit yourself to her, so that all you need to do is simply love and be loved."
He let her lapse into silence and as she looked up at him, he bowed low and left his portrait so she could ruminate on it all. Her mind was spinning and she didn't know where to start, only that she should. She remembered her invitation to Hermione to join her on Saturday. She regretted it as soon as she had invited her but now, it seemed as though it was the perfect opportunity to begin. She threw her quill down onto the desk and stood with a few deep clicks of her spine. The next few days would be hard - they always were at this time of year - but she would get through them so she could figure out how she was going to go about this new thing.
Without losing her mind in the process.