Witch in the woods 2
Minervas Cottage, May 8th, 1998
Over the coming days, Hermione and Minerva spent their time getting to know one another, not as teacher and student, but as friends. Hermione read poems out loud, and Minerva knitted. They cooked together, laughed, and cried.
They both received a lot of letters, invitations to funerals, and outsiders thanking them for their role in the war.
Ron sent a lot of letters, I answered the first one, telling him I needed space and that I would contact him later on. But in typical Ronald style, he couldn't accept it. Every day, he sent one, sometimes two.
Every time I saw his slobby handwriting, the lump in my stomach grew larger, and the letters were always about how my behaviour was hurting him; not once did he ask how I was feeling.
Minervas cottage was located a few miles south of Edenborough. It is a charming house, small but warm and cozy, with a small garden surrounded by a forest. She inherited it from her mother when she passed away a long time ago.
Now she only lives here when it's summer break.
Learning who Minerva is outside of Hogwarts is wonderful.
She had a wicked sense of humour, sometimes a bit vulgar. But somehow, it fits her character perfectly. She is a fiery woman, kind and soft but also stern and
Her skills in the kitchen make Mrs. Wesley look like an amateur. And she cooks the muggle way, stating that the food tastes better if you prepare it by hand, and she makes sure I help so that I learn how to make every dish.
Being a teacher is in her identity, but this feels like learning from your mother or grandmother, and it makes me warm inside when she smiles in encouragement.
Tomorrow, it will be a week since the battle at Hogwarts. Thanks to the Prophet, we've got daily updates on what has been happening outside of our bubble.
The thought of stepping out of it feels scary, but I know it has to be done. On the 11th, the first funeral is being held at Hogwarts.
Remus and Tonks.
Just thinking about it makes me cry.
Minerva has been corresponding with Andromeda, making sure she and little Teddy is alright.
They are coming over tomorrow for lunch, and I look forward to it but, at the same time, dread it.
The reality is catching up, and I feel so fragile and weak, and being here with Minerva really makes me feel like a small child in need of care. And I do need care, and I hope she needs me too.
I sigh and get up from my warm bed and quickly pull my knitted sweater over my pyjama t-shirt. The house is cold, which means Minerva is still asleep.
I grab my wand from the bedside table and cast a quick tempus charm, 6 a.m.
The first two days I slept fairly well, probably out of exhaustion, but now I can't make myself relax enough to sleep for more than a few hours at a time.
The nightmares of the torture at Malfoy Manor are always there to welcome me every time I fall asleep.
The sound of Bellatrix's hysterical laughter is echoing in my mind.
I walk soundlessly down the stairs and load the fireplace with new logs before lighting it. Sitting down in the armchair closest to the fire to soak up some warmth.
The sky outside is turning pink as the sun rises for a new day, another day to be thankful for. I'm still breathing, and a lot of people I care about survived, and I'm so grateful for that.
But it's hard to be positive. After the funerals and the death eater trials are over, I will focus more on my own healing and my journey forward.
I get up and walk over to the small kitchen, putting on the tea kettle, and then start preparing breakfast. I know Minerva is going to wake up soon, and today we have plans for the first time since getting here. We are going to the local farmer's market. After that, we are going back to Hogwarts to visit Severus in the hospital wing.
Poppy has been floo calling, letting us know of his progress in his healing, and she has predicted that he should wake up soon.
Learning about Severus role in this war is another thing that weighs heavily on my mind; it also makes me angry that one person alone has been forced to endure so much hate. Being trapped in an impossible role.
His role in this war was crucial for us to win, without him, it would have ended completely differently.
I know Minerva feels ashamed about her behaviour towards him after Albus died. After every floo call, she makes herself a drink and sits in front of the fire, muttering under her breath, cursing Albus, and silently crying.
I have comforted her as much as I can, and she allows, but she often waves me away and says she needs to wallow in her own misery for a while.
I hope, for Minerva's sake, that Severus is able to forgive her.
I don't know all of what has been said between them, but I know she would feel so much worse if he had died, and she missed the chance to ask for his forgiveness. I hope, for both of their sakes, they can solve it and mend their relationship.
The sound of Minerva walking down the stairs snaps me out of my thoughts, and I smile when she enters the kitchen.
"Good morning," I say, and I grab two cups from the cupboard, placing them on the table along with our breakfast, toast with bacon, eggs, and some tomatoes.
"Good morning, thank you for this, it looks lovely," she says and sits down.
We eat our breakfast and talk about how we slept and how we are feeling today. It has become part of our morning routine. We also say something new every day that we are grateful for.
"Today, I'm grateful that Crooks survived. His intuition and intelligence have made a big difference in the past, and I hope he will help guide me in the future," I say and smile.
Minerva nods her head and chuckles. "Yes, he really is something else, that one, a great companion." She takes a sip of her tea and looks out of the window with a thoughtful look.
"I'm grateful that I have this much energy left inside me, considering my age."
I giggle, and she winks at me with a small smirk on her face.
"You know I'll take care of you when you grow old and batty, right?" I say that and grin as she laughs.
"Oh, I'm counting on it, dear."
We finish our breakfast, and she flicks her wand, and the dishes float over to the sink. There they start cleaning themselves.
Doing the dishes the magical way is better than doing it by hand. Minerva told me the first night here after we had dinner.
My guess is that she hates doing the dishes, and that's perfectly reasonable. I do, too.
"Shall we head over to Hogwarts around lunch?" I ask and head for the stairs.
"That sounds like a good plan; let's pop in to town now. "The farmer's market opens at 8 a.m., and we need to restock the cooling cabinet." She says and I nod my head and hurry up the stairs to get ready.
I pull off my pyjama pants and grab some old jeans pulling them on, keeping the knitted sweater on, before jogging down the stairs again.
She gets up as I come down and summons her coat and her deerstalker hat before stepping out.
One thing I've learned about Minerva these past few days is that she loves headwear; the funnier looking, the better. She somehow pulls it off and makes it look good.
I grab my jacket from the coat rack and follow her outside; it's a little bit chilly still as the sun hasn't reached over the treetops yet.
We apparate to an ally, Minerva hooks her arm around mine, and we walk out on the small main street where the market is.
I was a bit worried about being around people, but these muggles have no idea a war just ended, and they are strolling down the street, laughing and talking. It makes me relax.
We buy the things we need and stroll down the street, browsing through the many stands. I stop as we walk past a flower stand, and I pick out a beautiful bouquet with orange buttercups and white garden cloves and look through their seed bank.
Deciding on some Zinnia seeds and some late-blooming tulip bulbs before paying.
We walk back to the ally and apparate back to the cottage.
"Go sit down, I'll make us some tea," I say, hanging my jacket before walking over to the kitchen and putting the kettle on. While waiting for the tea to get ready, I pull out a glass vase and put the flowers in it before casting an 'Aguamenti' filling it with water, and then restock the pantry and cooling cabinet.
I put the vase on the kitchen table and then poured two cups before walking out to the living room, handing Minerva her cup, and then sitting down next to her on the sofa. Letting out a relieved sigh as we relax and sip our tea
"That went better than I expected, somehow being around muggles that are completely unaware of what has been going on the past couple of years was refreshing," I say and face her.
She hums in agreement.
"Yes, I agree with you. With Voldemort gone, I hope our society can get back on its feet soon. I miss strolling down Diagon Alley," she says with a dreamy smile.
I nod my head, I miss it too.
Entering Diagon The first time I was 11 years old, together with Minerva and my parents, is something I'll never forget.
I grab my book from the table, Tolkiens Silmarillion. I sink down on the sofa and lose myself in the Tolkien world for a while.
The clicking of Minervas knitting needles in the background is soothing as we sit together, both of us happy that we successfully managed to leave the house without having a breakdown. A small step in the right direction.
An hour later, when my wand starts to vibrate on the coffee table, we both get startled. I glance at the clock on the mantle, 11.30 a.m.
Minerva looks over at me, her face blank, and I know she is nervous.
I scoot closer and put my arm around her.
"Everything is going to be alright," I whisper, and I pull her close, hugging her.
She drops her head on my shoulder, and she takes a shaky breath before leaning back. I get up and help her up before we summon our robes. I grab her hand and apparate us both to Hogwarts.
We land with a crack outside of the main entrance. Not letting go of her hand, I start walking up the stairs.
The castle is empty, no bodies or grieving survivors in the great hall. Our steps echo off the stonewalls. Some of the portraits are hanging on the side, and some are on the floor, burned or broken.
The walk up to the infirmary feels impossible, and I feel Minerva tens up the closer we get. As we step up to the doors, she stops and let go of my hand.
I look back at her over my shoulder, her face blank again, and my guess is that she is occluding. Trying to push her feelings away.
I open the doors, and they creak loudly. The sound is echoing between the stone walls, and I step aside, letting Minerva go in first. As she walks past me, I smile reassuringly, trying to convey that everything is going to be fine.
When the heavy doors close behind us, we are met with complete silence. The infirmary is empty except for a bed at the far end. There, beneath a white sheet, lies Professor Snape. His black hair a stark contrast to the sheet and his white hospital gown.
His breaths are slow, and his skin is more pale than usual.
If it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest, I would assume he was dead.
The sound of a door opening makes me tear my gaze from his still form, and I smile when I see Madam Pomfrey walking towards us.
She quickens her steps and walks up to Minerva and embraces her, rocking her like a mother would a child.
I stand there behind them, feeling slightly awkward, it feels like I'm an intruder in a private moment.
I walk up to them, squeezing Madam Pomfrey's shoulder, before continuing over to the bed. I stop at the end of the bed and look at the man lying there. He is thin and looks frail. On the sideboard next to the hospital bed lie several potion vials and his wand.
I silently summon a chair and sit down. I know that he would probably be very irritated and disturbed if he knew that I sat here watching him, this intimidating and slightly scary wizard. Now, not so much.
He looks younger in his sleep, with no frown on his face.
"I've been keeping him in a medical-induced coma, his wounds were very severe, and the pain would have been too much for him to bear." Madam Pomfrey speaks softly behind me. I nod my head and watch as Minerva walks over and takes a seat in the chair next to the bed.
Her hand trembles as she reaches for his hand, her eyes misty with unshed tears.
"When do you think he is going to wake up?" I ask lowly, not wanting to disturb the silence.
"It could be today or over the next couple of days. I have not given him any dreamless sleep since yesterday; it's hard to tell. His body needs a lot of recovery, the venom from that blasted snake burned away his veins," she says, her voice filled with anger.
"His heart stopped three times the first day. Luckily, his magic is strong and he fought off the venom, otherwise, he wouldn't have made it.
I swallow, feeling guilt settle in my stomach. I watched him get bitten and then left him there to die.
As if Madam Pomfrey reads my mind, she interrupts my thoughts.
"Do not blame yourself, dear, if you hadn't notified me of his whereabouts, he would have died. Now he will make it, his recovery will take time, but he will live." She says and squeezes my shoulder again.
We sit there in silence, watching Professor Snape as he sleeps.
My mind drifts off to the vow and what the memory of Professor Snape means. Obviously, he opens up an apothecary shop, and I work there alongside him.
But at what time? Before the one year is up or after.
The little girl with black hair—is she mine and Severus?
Minerva clears her throat and stands up.
"We should take our leave, please call if he wakes up, and I'll be here," she says. Her face is more relaxed, and she looks determined. As if the time spent sitting next to her old friend made her make up her mind.
I stand up and follow her out of the infirmary, and when the door closes behind us, she lets out a shaky breath.
"Let's go home, "she says, grabs my hand, and we dispparate.
When we land in the garden outside of the cottage, I feel slightly dizzy, the side-along was quite sudden, and I didn't have time to prepare myself. When I turn around, I see that Minerva has already walked inside.
I walk inside and don't see her anywhere, she probably retired to her room. She needs her space, and I sigh and summon the seeds and bulbs I bought at the market. I walk back out and gather the empty pots before sitting down on the ground on my knees.
I summon the fertilizer and mix it with the soil in the pots before planting the seeds and the tulip bulbs.
I spread out the pots along the path leading up to the front door and wipe my brow when I'm done. The sun is high in the sky, and it's nice and warm in the clearing around the house.
I pull off my sweater, tie it around my waist and grab my wand. I transfigure a branch into a lounge chair before walking inside to wash my hands and grab my book.
I sit down, stretch out my legs, and get comfortable.
I look at the pots and smile. Planting the seeds and the tulip bulbs felt rewarding. Knowing they will grow and bring joy later is something to look forward to, and I feel lighter.
I wonder what the house that Albus gave me looks like, does it have the same warm and cosy feeling as Minervas cottage, I hope so.
I would without a doubt thrive and be comfortable there. Closing my eyes and tilt my face towards the sun, feeling the sunrays on my skin, warm and soft.
There Hermione falls asleep, and for the first time in days she is welcomed with peace instead of nightmares. She dreams about a small cottage in the forest with flowers blooming, swaying in the warm spring breeze, a small black haired girl in a green dress running around in the sunshine.
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Welcome to Witch in the Woods!
I have lots of free time now over the Christmas holidays and I have been waiting and looking forward to share this one with you!
This is going to be a feel-good story with romance, humour (hopefully lol) and a lot of details in the environment and the vibe.
Hope you'll enjoy reading this!
Thank you for the follows and likes 😊
I will try to post at least one chapter/week!
Merry Christmas!