A/N: Discovered a plot hole I can't close so just assume, with me, that Angelina Johnson is a year younger than she is in canon cos she's still here and she shouldn't be lololol Harry doesn't have time to be captain anyway. It's fine. This is what happens when Spin leaves me unsupervised.

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Minerva stared at herself in the mirror as she pinned up her hair. She had learned many years ago that using magic to keep her hair in place during a Quidditch match should not be trusted. And this match had all the makings of an epic battle. She didn't have time to do so often, but she had been on tenterhooks all morning; unable to finish her marking, unable to read, and without Hermione's calming presence - that presence that Minerva had not realised belonged to Hermione alone - so instead, she had taken to examining her life as it stood.

Honestly, it just made her head hurt.

She had tried to visit Albus in the morning, but he had been surly and uncooperative. She tried to look past his initial dismissal to discuss his rather hasty agreement of Hermione's request and in part thank him, even as she rebuked him, but he was having none of it. For the first time in a long time, Albus Dumbledore threw her out of his office. Poppy was always out of sorts on Quidditch days - she didn't hate the game but she did not appreciate the injuries that often came with it. She always spent so much of her time reminding Minerva about her own injury and Minerva really did hate to be reminded of what she considered the worst day of her life.

That thought made her pause.

She had had many bad days in her long years, many instances of terror or heartbreak or horror. And it was not the thought of that fateful Quidditch match that had stopped her short, it was her shift in thinking. At one point, she recalled, quite recently in fact, she had considered the day that Hermione had been cursed in London to be the worst day of her life.

The day that irrevocably changed her world for the worst. The day she had been attached to something out of her control and with no say in. Both things, she considered fates worse than death.

And now?

She glanced in the mirror and saw something that she'd so rarely seen in all those long years she and her reflection had faced together. A light, right there in her eyes, shimmering happily as she thought of her love. And while she may not have been able to say the words to Hermione, she knew in her heart that the words were true.

Until she recalled what she'd said in Gaelic the night before.

Tha gaol agam ort le teine.

For reasons she could not state, it was easier to tell Hermione that she loved her if nobody could hear her.

Or understand her.

"Salve," a voice said quietly in her ear.

Minerva blinked and looked back at her reflection and saw Lucia's version of Hermione staring back at her.

"Oh," she exclaimed, unable to help it. "Um, hello?"

"There is no need to fear me," they chuckled. "I am not here to bring you bad tidings."

"Then why are you here?" She winced at how rude it sounded but the person simply chuckled. "And I never caught your name?"

"Amalle," they smiled. "And I am here because I have not had a chance to meet you yet. And my love has insisted that I should."

"And?"

Amalle chuckled.

"You are just like her." Minerva felt two sure hands on her shoulders and relaxed just a fraction as they squeezed in just the right way. The way that only Hermione had ever been able to. "Did she manage to deal with feeling everything around her?"

"Yes," Minerva huffed. "No thanks to your woman." She bit her tongue at Amalle's look. "Alright, some thanks to her. She could have given better instruction."

"No," they said kindly. "She could not have."

Something about the way they spoke made Minerva pause.

"Are you," she frowned. "Hermione mentioned others. They don't know?"

"No," they whispered. "They do not know. They already think we are odd, this would not help to persuade them otherwise."

Minerva snorted and Amalle's eyes twinkled like Hermione's.

"You look so alike."

"As do you," Amalle nodded. "Your phrasing, your words." They ran a finger down Minerva's temple, under her chin and pulled open her collar a little. "Other things." They rubbed their thumb over a mole Minerva had on her collarbone. The ridiculous nature of it all made Minerva chuckle.

"Is there such an age gap with you both?" If this person was in a talkative mood, Minerva was going to do her best to get some answers.

"There is, though not quite as yours. It is as long but we were both a little further down the path of life before it was discovered."

"Did you know each other before?"

"Only briefly," Amalle chuckled. "Our first few years were difficult." They got a wicked gleam in their eye. "Though enjoyable."

Minerva laughed at the cheek. She glanced up at them and sighed.

"I believe we are about to enter into the biggest battle for our lives. I need to know what to expect; I need to know how to help her."

"Have you completed your bond?" Amalle asked. Minerva blinked.

"Sorry?"

"That is an answer," they mused but spoke no further on it. "The best way to help is to give comfort when she needs it. You are clearly aware of what is coming, for her, it will be," they made a face. "Difficult to stop."

"The fighting?"

"The helping," Amalle whispered. "Her need to help will be overwhelming. But if our gift is used too frequently or too heavily, we will require healing. It is why there are always two," Amalle explained. "To balance the need."

Something about that made Minerva's hair stand on end and she thought back to the moment Hermione took Katie Bell's hand in the girl's bathroom. The need to help had been overwhelming, Hermione had said, and she'd done so to her detriment and it had been Minerva that had cared for her afterwards, although not in the capacity she would now.

"She sleeps?" Minerva whispered.

"Yes," Amalle nodded. "Sometimes for days."

"Both?"

They smiled and leaned a little heavier against Minerva's back.

"Sometimes, if that is what is necessary. Two heads are better than one, is that not right?"

Minerva nodded and tried to pick through the most important questions she wanted to ask.

"Do I have time to ask you about fire?"

Amalle smiled and leaned on Minerva's shoulders with their arms straight out in front of them. With apparently no effort or incantation, their hands caught fire and one was offered to Minerva.

"I do not believe it will hurt, though you will be able to tell before anything untoward happens."

She did so slowly but again felt the heat without the pain.

"That has only just started to happen with Hermione," Minerva whispered. "By accident."

"As is the way as the bond comes closer to being complete," Amalle whispered. "The fire is what binds us. It is our gift, like our magic." They paused as Minerva's hands withdrew but still held the fire, just as Hermione's did. "You are beginning to believe in her love."

Minerva's eyes snapped to theirs and stared for a while until she could no longer hide.

"Merlin, I am. It wasn't that I did not believe it, before, but it is different now."

"And it will be again, in time. I know you are cautious and concerned, but once it is time, you will see there is nothing to worry about." Amalle chuckled. "Which is why she is so forthright about it now. She has already reached that moment, in time, it will all become so clear." Minerva smiled at the thought of Hermione and Amalle brushed her chin. "You will never have to wonder at her love. It will be right there for you, at every moment. I know you as I know my own love. You will never be lonely," Amalle chuckled. "Even when sometimes you may wish to be."

Minerva laughed and smiled in thanks.

"Oh," she blinked. "Still have time?"

"For now," they said gently.

"What do you know of these?"

Minerva withdrew her knife and held it aloft on her palm. Amalle reached for it but did not take it.

"Interesting," they muttered. "It is Elvish steel with," they peered closer at it. "Our own designs. Though I do not recall seeing them so either they are made in a time beyond this, to me, or they are for the High Council."

"You are not -"

"No," they chuckled. "Officiale est mihi."

Minerva snorted.

"Nor me. Though it seems as though my fate is tied to it."

"Our time draws to a close. Trust in her and her love. Do not fear when it is time to complete the bond and exploit it to its fullest measure." A wicked gleam shone from their eyes. "You will not be disappointed. Trust each other in this coming battle and above all, do not fight this -" Amalle pressed their hand on Minerva's chest where her heart was beating. "In any sense of it. Relax into it, everything will be easier."

Minerva opened her mouth to enquire what the hell that meant but someone knocked on the door and Amalle vanished. She groaned at herself in the mirror and took one more look at herself. Her hair had come down, but her eyes were clear and she shrugged to her reflection and opened the door.

"Yes -" She frowned. "Harry?"

"I -" He sighed and shifted his feet. She had always found that trait to be rather annoying but she allowed it for the moment. "I wanted to apologise."

Minerva continued to stare at him for a while before she sighed too.

"You'd best come in, then."

They sat, not at her desk, but on her sofa. She plaited her hair down her back to keep it from knotting and sat forward.

"What have I told you about your temper? Over and over again, Harry."

"I know you won't believe me, but I genuinely didn't mean to hurt him. And I didn't set out to hurt him. I know you guys don't think this is a big deal but I do and I don't know how to make anyone listen, I mean, Albus won't listen." Minerva made a face but he pressed on. "I was just trying to get Draco to tell me what he was doing and he nearly did. He was so upset, but then he got this look in his eyes and just went crazy. He was crying and screaming and then he pulled his wand, so I pulled mine and when he grabbed it, I panicked and yanked my knife out. It was only supposed to be a deterrent. I had no intention of using it."

Minerva looked at him carefully. A lifetime of students lying had taught her every trick in the book and at no point had she seen Harry lying to her. So she did something she did not usually do.

She forgave him.

"Thank you for telling me that. For what it's worth, we will miss you in the final."

"Ginny can do it," he nodded stoically.

"I'm sure she can."

"Min?" he whispered. Her name made her blink and she looked at him quizzically. "I'm sorry that I disappointed you."

"Oh Harry," she chuckled sadly. "It happens." She remembered what Ginny had said about family and sat back in her chair as she thought about all the times her own family had disappointed her, or been disappointed in her. "It happens from time to time in families." His eyes widened. "But the one thing that can be relied on is that your family will love you, even when they are disappointed with the choices you made."

He dropped his head down and she let him. He scrubbed at his face and she looked away to give him time to do that. It was an awful punishment, but it was fair, given the circumstances. Besides herself, the only person that would have been more disappointed to miss the final was Harry.

"Thank you." He whispered as he stood. "I have to go but we're going to win today, Min," he said beside her shoulder as he was on his way out. "I truly believe that."

"Then I will see you tomorrow then, after the party."

"Fred and George are coming," he mentioned. "Said they might stay."

"And I will pretend I do not know, nor be too alarmed when the castle informs me of that." He grinned and for a moment she could see Lily's cheeky smile before it was gone. She got up and squeezed his shoulder. She was not yet calm enough to hug him but he smiled all the same. "Go on now. It is time for your detention and it will only make things worse if you are late."

"Thanks, Min," he said. He leaned in a little impulsively and hugged her quickly before he ran out of the room before she could react.

"Well," Michael's voice sounded over her shoulder. "What a morning."

She snorted and turned to look at him.

"I feel as though I have not spoken to you for an age. What on earth have you been up to?"

"Oh, bit o' this, bit o' that."

Minerva grumbled as she turned her chair so she could sit and still look at him.

"Michael."

"Ah'm messin' wi' yeh lass," he chortled. "Your woman has me leading the spy network. We're keeping eyes and ears open. Though some of them, I wish, would not try."

"What do you mean?"

"We're trying t' figure out what's going on with these two going up to the Room of Requirement," he sighed. "So far, we're doing a poor job."

"Michael!"

"Dinnae take that tone, woman, yeh lass asked me, an' ah'm to do it."

She stared at him.

"What have you found so far?"

"There's a damn sight less patrollin' ah dark corridors than is necessary," he chuckled. "But, seems they're mostly scared. She already ken tha'. They are plannin' somethin' though. And they're getting closer."

Minerva groaned.

"I suppose Albus wants nothing to do with this?"

"She is convinced he's in on it."

She scoffed and rubbed her head.

"Yeh woman'd tell yeh to stop that, yeh ken."

"Do stop calling her that," Minerva rolled her eyes but scoffed again when she realised he was right.

"Why?" he laughed. "She is yeh woman. Ain't she?"

She looked up at him and could not help the little smirk that crept into the corners of her mouth.

"She is tha'."

"She'd be wearin' mah colours by now."

"It is not that simple and you know it," she muttered. She took a deep breath as that feeling settled in her soul. "Tha e soilleir nam aislingean ach chan e an ùine a th' ann fhathast." [It is clear in my dreams but it is not time yet]

Michael hummed knowingly and softened.

"Bidh ùine ann a dh' aithghearr." She smiled up at his gentle tone. "It draws closer."

"Yes," she sighed as she saw the time. "But so does everything else."

"Minerva," he said gently - more gently than she'd ever heard him speak. "You shouldn'a wait for life to dictate what yon doin'. You know tha' better than anyone."

"Michael," she sighed. "She is still a student and I am still a teacher. Her teacher. I cannot simply take up with my student so brazenly."

"Yeh not be too lillywhite, though?"

She snorted and threw a pillow in his direction.

"You ham. No, which is why we must remain as we are. Though," she sighed. "Tha e a' fàs nas duilghe. Tha m' anam ag èigheach air a son." She clenched her fists on her knee. "I do not know why I cannot tell her this." [It's getting harder. My soul cries out for her.]

"Fer much the same reason yeh cannae do anythin' about it."

"Perhaps," she sighed. "Will you come to me, if you need?"

"'Course," he scoffed. "Yeh mine and ahm yours, if yeh recall?"

She smiled and met his painted gaze.

"I believe you and I would have been the best of friends, sir."

"There she goes, makin' mah paint run again." He cleared his throat. "Bi sàbhailte, mo bhean." [Be safe, my lady.]

She bent her head as was proper.

"Agus dhutsa, mo thighearna." [And to you, my lord.]

He left her alone once more and she sat briefly until she heard a ruckus in the corridors. She frowned and glanced up at the clock. She groaned as she saw all the time she had been trying to waste was now gone. She would be late if she did not hurry.

"So much for steadiness," she chuckled to herself, deciding that for once, she would leave her hair as it was and simply join the crowds down to the stands.

They would win this year.

They would.

She was sure of it.