What If I Never Get Over You
(Song by: Lady A)
It's supposed to hurt, it's a broken heart
But the movin' on is the hardest part
It comes in waves, the letting go
But the memory fades, everybody knows
Everybody knows
What if I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes
And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye?
And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do?
What if I never get over you?
Maybe months go by, maybe years from now
And I meet someone and it's workin' out
Every now and then, he can see right through
'Cause when I look at him
Yeah, all I see is you
What if I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes
And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye?
And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do?
What if I never get over you?
Ooh yeah
What if I never get over?
What if I never get closure?
What if I never get back all the wasted words I told you?
What if it never gets better?
What if this lasts forever and ever and ever?
I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes
And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye
And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do?
What if I never get over you?
What if I gave you (what if I gave you) everything I got?
What if your love was my one and only shot?
What if I end up with nothing to compare it to
What if I never get over? Oh, if I never get over
What if I never get over you?
What if I never get over you?
Oh, what if I never get over?
Over you
Songwriters: Jonathan Ian Green / Laura Jeanne Veltz / Ryan James Hurd / Sam Mackenzie Ellis
What If I Never Get Over You lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
watch?v=zkgcEF8Ozgc&ab_channel=LadyAVEVO
"I'm really going to miss Hogwarts."
"Miss Granger, I am quite certain you have outgrown all we can teach you here."
Minerva McGonagall turned away from the view afforded by her office window to fully face the young, newly graduated Gryffindor standing by her side. Gripping the young woman's shoulders, she gently restrained her protégé. "You have been our brightest star. I dare say we could hire you on now as a professor and you would not disappoint."
Hermione responded with a watery smile.
"I have written a letter of introduction," Minerva stepped to her desk to retrieve an envelope. Handing it to Hermione, she continued, "on the chance you plan to pursue a mastery in transfiguration."
"You know I am. But who shall I find to train under?"
"I too had a teacher."
"I know…Professor Dumbledore."
"Well, yes. Here at Hogwarts I learned under Albus. He was adequate, but for my mastery, I had to find someone who was, indeed, a true master of the subject."
"Oh…right. Who?"
"Geoffrey Armitage."
"Geoffrey… Professor, he must be two hundred years old!"
"I never thought you found age to be a detriment of any sort." Minerva's lips twitched in an amused quirk.
"Oh, no… that's not… I mean… is he still alive?"
That charmed a full laugh from Minerva. "Yes, he is still alive, and doing quite well. He resides in St. Lawrence on the Isle of Wight. He will be expecting you."
"Professor…"
"Now, now, Miss Granger, none of that." Minerva's warm hand rubbed Hermione's back soothingly, coming to rest on her shoulder. "We shan't have tears on this day of celebration."
Hermione closed her eyes and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Taking a moment to center herself, she opened her eyes again to lock onto bright green eyes smiling back at hers. Without thought or hesitation, she stated factually, "I love you."
Something in Minerva's eyes seemed to crack. She pulled the young witch into an unexpectedly strong embrace and her thick Scottish brogue whispered against Hermione's ear, "Ah know. And ye know why nothin' kin come o' it. You are destined for greatness as one of the most highly regarded witches of our time. I expect you will even overshadow my reputation. You will move on from here, find a more suitable match for your intellect and talents and forget all about your old professor."
"What if I don't? What if I never forget, never get over you?"
Hermione felt soft lips press against her cheek for a moment before she was gently pushed away.
The room swirled and Hermione stumbled back from the pensieve. Her right hand clamped over her mouth to stifle a sob as the fingertips of her left brushed longingly at the ghost of sensation prickling her cheek. It took her a few moments to collect herself, as it always did whenever she would refresh this particular memory with the pensieve. A knock on the door made her jump self-consciously.
"Yes, come in."
"Minister?" Hermione's assistant, Siobhan Cummings peeked in around the door. "Everything is done. It's time to go."
"Alright, Siobhan, thank you." Tucking the memory vial away in her pocket and taking a last look around the office, Hermione picked her bag off the desk and, with a sentimental sigh, exited the room for the last time.
"Will you be attending this ridiculous do?" she paused at the reception desk.
"Of course. I wouldn't miss it."
"Will you be able to work with the new minister?"
"He seems a good sort. I mean, he didn't insist on replacing me, so…"
"Help him with the little things." Hermione smiled conspiratorially.
"Of course. Now, you better get a move on. They're doing the reception line first. No one is going to be very happy if you delay the alcohol."
Hermione laughed her way out of the offices. She went in search of Harry and was relieved to actually find him at his desk.
"Are you ready?"
"Hey, yeah, almost done." He finished gathering the papers and folders scattered across his desk and dropped them into his "please file" rack. "Are you ready?" he grinned, siding up to Hermione.
"Nothing more for me to do now."
"That's good though, right?"
"Yes. It is very good."
"So, a farewell party and then what?" Harry tucked Hermione's hand in his arm and led her out.
"At least a week of sleep." She laughed.
"Are you going to see your mum?"
"Yeah. I told Rose I'd be there on the first. Hopefully, mum will be feeling up to a visit."
"How are the kids?"
"A handful."
"Will you be staying to help?"
"No. I'll visit, and then jump ship as soon as I can. Rose hates it when I intercede with the kids. She says they can easily formulate their own arguments and they do not need me goading them on."
"Grandma's prerogative." Harry chuckled.
"I told her she could do worse than having me advise them. Imagine if Molly was 'helping'?"
The friends arrived at the banquet room and were anxiously herded in place by the harried coordinator.
"You are fifteen minutes late."
"Shuchang, didn't you once tell me your name means 'easy-going'?"
"Oh, be quiet and get in line. Give me your bag."
"I liked it better when you were more deferential to me."
"That all ended forty minutes ago when your tenure as minister officially ended."
"May we have drinks?"
"After."
"I'd fire you if I could."
"No doubt. Now stand tall and be pleasant."
Harry was giggling next to Hermione the entire time she was being handled. "Feel familiar?" He asked.
"How do you mean?"
"Feels to me like our school days. He'd make a great teacher."
The doors were finally opened and the river of sycophants, associates, and friends flooded in. It took ninety minutes for the steady flow of handshakes and faces to end. Finally with drinks in hand, Hermione, with Harry at her side, wandered about the hall and conversed with those guests who qualified as friends.
"You look a little tired."
"Oh, Ginny, you have no idea. This is one aspect I will never miss from the job. Fighting for social change is one thing, schmoozing with a bunch of pompous, entitled, boorish hypocrites is something else altogether. "
"Well," Ginny raised her glass, "here's to being free. Happy retirement, Hermione."
Glasses clinked together as her small circle of friends toasted to her happiness.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would care to take your seats…dinner is served."
"I don't know how that man can make an invitation to sit sound like a battlefield order."
Hermione muttered to Harry.
Dinner progressed pleasantly. Hermione was able to forget the purpose of the evening and spent the time enjoying the company of her friends sharing her table. She was surrounded by the people who had become her family since she initially stepped into the world of magic. The group at her table consisted of Harry and Ginny Potter, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, and Ron Weasley with his third wife Bridget Hathaway. Tables to either side of hers housed the extended Weasley family, including her son Hugo.
The raucous laughter and banter among the three tables caused many heads to turn and drew a number of envious glances. As the main course remains were whisked away, the podium was lit for the introduction of a number of speakers. Heads of departments spoke of Hermione's abilities as a leader, Kingsley Shacklebolt expounded on how no one could have been better suited to follow him in the position, and the current head of Hogwarts, Madame Sinistra, waxed lyrical about their successful and rewarding alliance.
After the agony of an hour's worth of testimonials, Hermione was itching to escape to the privacy and peacefulness of her home. Before she could manage her escape, the tables were pushed aside and the band struck up the music. Harry cajoled her onto the dance floor to get the party started. Halfway through the first tune, Charlie Weasley cut in, trading Ginny off for a turn with the now ex-minister. Through the first five songs, Hermione was passed off from one Weasley to the next, finally ending with Hugo.
"How's it feel to be free?"
"You tell me. I'm brand new to this. You've been flying free since you finished school."
"I'm not sure my brand of freedom will fit you very well."
"I dare say not." Hermione laughed openly. "How are things in Ecuador?"
"Great. We've uncovered another chamber."
"How many is that, eleven?"
"Yeah. Quite the city it's turning out to be. And the magical relics are insane."
"You are taking proper precautions."
"Yes, mum. Always. It's what I was trained to do."
"And no evidence of black magic?"
"Nope."
"Good. I am happy for you, Hugo."
The song came to an end and Hugo escorted his mother to a chair discreetly set back from the crowd.
"Thank you, luv."
"Do you want a drink? Water?"
"No, thank you. Shuchang is already on the way. I'll sit for a few moments before sneaking out."
"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow for brunch?"
"Absolutely."
"Great. Good night." Hugo bent to leave a kiss on Hermione's cheek.
"Good night. Have fun."
"Oh, I will," he laughed as he headed off to find the attractive witch from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes who had been flirting with him for most of the evening.
Hermione watched him go, taking a moment to remember him as a two year old toddling off to find adventure at the playground. "Thank you, Shuchang." Hermione accepted the glass half filled with amber liquid. "I owe you."
"You have already paid in full. Enjoy."
As Shuchang walked away, Hermione cast a weak disillusionment spell to keep most of the lackeys away.
"Why so pensive, Minister?"
Hermione jumped at the voice that sounded so close to her ear. She almost lost her seat as she abruptly turned to view the speaker.
"I apologize for my tardiness. I was delayed in Thailand by a lightning dybbuk."
"Minerva! I am surprised to see you."
"Surprised?"
"I did not expect you to be here."
"Why ever not?"
"I literally haven't seen you for years."
"I do not recall parting on unfriendly terms."
"Well, no. But since you retired from Hogwarts, we haven't really had…any terms."
"Hmpf. Well, I am not about to miss your grand exit from the post you so capably occupied for twenty-two years."
Hermione eyed Minerva skeptically. Seeing no irony or sarcasm in her expression, she accepted the words at face value. "Thank you for coming. I do appreciate it."
"May I join you?" Minerva asked candidly.
"Oh, of course. Please," Hermione scooched her chair to the side, allowing Minerva room to pull another chair closer.
"I must confess I am relieved I was late enough to miss the speeches."
"Ah, so you planned it."
"Nay, 'twas all luck."
"Well, here's to luck." Hermione tipped her glass to Minerva before swallowing a reinforcing mouthful of muggle liquid courage.
"What is that?"
Examining the legs of the amber liquid as she swirled the glass, Hermione responded wistfully, "Macallan double cask 18 year old, more fruit and nut than peat and smoke."
"Och, quite exorbitant."
"One only retires once from being minister."
"Aye, there is that. Are you willing to share?"
Hermione critically studied Minerva for a few moments. At Minerva's arched eyebrow, she grinned and relented. "Sure. I think you've earned it." She lifted her glass and signaled Shuchang for two more.
When the drinks arrived, Minerva smirked at the promptness. "Must be nice to be important."
"Oh, please, as if you never got special treatment during your tenure as Headmistress."
"I was never allotted Macallan 18."
"Well, enjoy. Cheers."
"Slàinte." Minerva touched her glass to Hermione's. "Not bad…" she allowed with the initial taste.
The women withdrew into an easy companionable silence, observing the paired dancers and sipping their spirits.
"You truly were the best minister I can recall." Minerva confided.
"You're just saying that because of the whisky."
"I am not."
Hermione smiled to herself at the harshness of Minerva's denial.
"What do you take me for?" the dignified witch contested. "I cannae be bought off that easily."
The laughter of pure delight that broke from Hermione turned a few heads.
"Oh, hush. You're causing a scene."
"Oh, Minerva…I have missed you." Hermione confessed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
"Yes, well…" Minerva's eyes glanced about the room, desperately looking for a safety net. "Oh, now look, you've really done it." She accused, waving a hand absently in the direction of a figure pushing through the celebrators in a straight line toward their table.
"Kingsley, how are you?" Hermione welcomed.
"Hermione," he nodded. "Minerva, it has been…"
"Yes, it has." Minerva bit out, cutting him off and barely masking her displeasure.
"Where have you been?"
"Around," she hedged.
"Will you be joining us this year for the Memorial celebrations?"
"I honestly cannot say." She answered in her clipped British affectation.
Hermione distracted herself with her drink, not wanting to disclose her amusement by laughing outright at Kingsley's well-intentioned but unappreciated attempts to reel Minerva back into Wizarding society. Understanding the real reason for Minerva's tardiness, Hermione grinned slyly at the iconic witch. "Would you care to join me elsewhere?"
"Lead on Macduff."
"Excuse us, Kingsley, but Minerva and I have a serious matter to discuss. Thank you for stopping by." Hermione chuckled as she led Minerva from the hall. "I should take offense at that little comment. I am not about to betray and kill you."
"Maybe not, but actions do speak louder than words."
"You wound me, Minerva."
They withheld further conversation until they were safely out on the street.
"Will you trust me?" Hermione challenged.
"With my life." Minerva asserted, raising her right eyebrow in a familiar solicitation.
Hermione offered her hand, swallowing the giddiness that bubbled up when Minerva graciously accepted. With a deep breath, the universe bent and the women were pulled through the familiar distortion of apparition. When the crackle of energy dissipated around them, Minerva glanced around in surprise.
"Where are we?"
"Unst. Muckle Flugga lighthouse."
"Why?"
"It clears my head; gives me peace."
"Ah."
"And…I never run into anyone here. Complete privacy."
Despite it being the middle of summer, the temperature was much chillier in the far north of Scotland than in London. Before Minerva moved, Hermione transfigured both of their outfits into woolen trousers and cloaks. They stood shoulder to shoulder watching out over the waves crashing against the rocks and tracking the revolutions of the light.
After the thirteenth beacon cycle, Minerva broke the silent standoff, "Why were you so willing to abandon your party?"
Hermione turned her face to Minerva, her eyes open, exposing complete honesty. "I never liked that part; the grand scale of it all."
"Well, you certainly weren't going to be allowed to simply disappear from the post. You are much too loved and respected to walk away without a show of appreciation."
Hermione's groan of distress was misread by Minerva. "Did you not wish to retire?"
"It is not the retirement from the job. I am more than ready to leave that in more capable hands."
Minerva scoffed at Hermione's self-deprecation. "Then what?"
"It feels like the beginning of the end of me."
"Hermione," Minerva whispered sensibly. "I do not wish to belittle your feelings, but that is simply ridiculous."
Hermione cast an irked side eye at Minerva as a strange tingle buzzed in her chest from the sound of her name being whispered from Minerva's lips for the first time in a very long time. "What were you doing in Thailand?"
Minerva glared disapprovingly at Hermione. "Alright," she allowed the redirection, "but, we will return to this." Turning to lean her back against the railing, Minerva shared the purpose of her adventure. "I was on an excursion to study cyclonic effects on transfigured Son Talay trees to determine if we could improve the agrestal shoreline protection against natural disasters with a tweak or two."
"How was that going?"
"Horribly. Not a single cyclone kicked up while I was there."
Hermione laughed. "Good and bad."
"Hmpf. Now, do not evade. What is going on with you?"
"I don't…it doesn't matter."
"It does." Minerva's voice sounded loud and harsh above the crashing of ocean currents. Swallowing her exasperation, she adjusted her tone and muttered, "To me."
Hermione again studied the woman who had been her teacher, mentor and idol for so many years. "Maybe we should go. Would you like to come to mine for a drink?"
"That would be quite agreeable."
Hermione's home was a small end-of-terrace house in Oxford. Her love of books, libraries, and learning prompted her to choose the university town. She struck gold with the house on a quiet street and even quieter neighbors. A small potting shed in the back garden positioned near a privacy fence offered plenty of concealment for apparating.
Although after midnight, the temperature in Oxford was nearly twelve degrees Celsius warmer than Unst. Hermione immediately transfigured their clothes back to their original condition. She led Minerva to the back door and allowed the woman entrance. Stepping past the immutable woman, Hermione turned lights on as she made her way to the kitchen.
"Tea? Or something stronger?"
"Tea would be lovely."
"Still a splash of cream, no sugar?"
"Aye."
"Go on through. Make yourself at home." Hermione cordially directed.
Once the tea was ready, Hermione carried the lot into the sitting room to find Minerva standing in front of one of the many bookshelves in the house, browsing the collection.
"All first editions." Hermione proudly pointed out.
"I noticed. Quite the collection. I see you even have an autographed copy of Sense and Sensibilities."
"I won that at an auction." Hermione grinned smugly, her hands busy with fixing the tea.
Joining Hermione on the sofa, Minerva cradled her cup in her hands and sat back comfortably in expectation of a long conversation and waited.
"I do not doubt my decision to retire. I am more than ready to escape the pomp and circumstance. I'm sure you can understand how exhausting it is to kowtow to all the self-important, entitled elitists while struggling to actually aid those in need."
"Yes, but…"
"I put in my twenty years. It's time to pass the torch on to someone younger with the vision and energy to bring our community to the next level."
"I would not begrudge you your due. I dare say you have accomplished more than many before you. Your skillful guidance and high ideals have initiated a perceptible wave of tolerance and diversity in our government that has proven to be a wellspring of reformation and innovation. I have never witnessed such an all-encompassing shared excitement for our future before you. And, I believe your replacement will continue along the path you have tamped down. However, I do not understand how you can translate a celebration of all you have achieved to be a marker of your demise."
"You say that like I'm crawling off to die. My melancholy is not quite that dark. I just think, without my work, I don't know what to do. I feel I am past my prime but I am not ready to go gently into this good night."
"That does not feel right."
"What do you mean?"
"The words you speak, though poetic," Minerva smirked, "do not feel to be your real concern."
Hermione stared at Minerva, amazed at how easily the woman could read her. Smiling weakly, she capitulated and shared the truth. "I am afraid. I'm afraid that I am now sliding down the backside of life and picking up speed. I am finished with my career, my children are long grown with lives of their own, I am a grandmother of at least two that I know of, I am alone..."
"None of this is a harbinger of death."
"What am I to do with myself? Sit and waste away like my mother?"
"What of your mother?" Minerva jumped on that tidbit of information like it was the secret of the philosopher's stone.
Hermione remained mute, ignoring Minerva's query.
"Hermione," Minerva probed gently, "What has happened to your mother?"
With watery eyes, Hermione locked onto intense green scrutiny. "She is wasting away. Since my dad passed, she has declined. Her mind is fading faster than her body. She often does not recognize me."
"Where is she?" Minerva whispered earnestly.
"She's in New Zealand. Rose decided to move there not long after she finished at Hogwarts and convinced my parents to transplant from Australia. My daughter is caring for her children and their great-grandmother and I am not wanted."
"That is not true." Minerva fervently rejected Hermione's claim.
"It isn't out of animosity. It's just simpler. When I visit, Mum gets agitated and more confused. I think some of the damage is from my inept use of the memory charm in my attempt to save her during the war. After I reversed the enchantment my parents never truly forgave me for what I did, so I did not have the best relationship with them. They did, however, fall in love with their grandchildren and doted on them. I would bring Rose and Hugo for summer visits early on. By the time Rose was seven, I'd bring the kids down and leave them for a few weeks. These days mum is usually convinced that Rose is her daughter and, when I show up, I'm just some stranger visiting from England."
Minerva placed her nearly empty cup on the tray and dropped a hand on Hermione's knee, squeezing in sympathy. "My dear, I am sorry you are facing this. I always told Albus, if my mind frayed so, he was to put me out of my misery. Suffering the slow progressive loss of a loved one, when they are with us yet gone astray, I believe, is more difficult than enduring the sudden casualty of an act of war."
"It's strange; I know she is fading away, but we were fractured so long ago, I do not feel directly part of the experience. I grieved the loss of my parents at the beginning of the war. Now it feels like I am living a daily memorial marking the occasion."
"Hermione, this evening has you in a maudlin and desolate frame of mind." Minerva patted her knee. "Perhaps after a good night's sleep…"
"Perhaps. It is getting late and I have a brunch date with Hugo tomorrow." Hermione stood and swayed on her feet, exhausted from the day. Glancing pensively at Minerva, she offered diffidently, "The spare room is set up. You may stay if you'd like."
"That is too kind. Are you sure you don't mind? I am quite tired from my travels today."
"Sure. It would grieve me if you splinched yourself trying to get home. You can find extra pyjamas in the dresser. Or you can transfigure yours…"
Minerva followed Hermione up the stairs after banishing the tea seat to the kitchen. Lying in the darkness, she mused on the bright, lively girl she knew so long ago and compared her to the somber, contemplative woman asleep in the room across the hall.
"Good morning. I hope you don't think me too forward, but I made us coffee."
Hermione accepted a cup with a small shake of her head. "Mmmnnn…no, don't mind at all. Thanks."
"I didn't dare start anything with food," Minerva confessed into the eyes smiling at her over the rim of a cup.
"Are you starving? I slept in much longer than usual. Hugo should be here in an hour to collect me for our date, but I can whip something up for you…"
"No, thank you. I shall take my leave after this cup. I would not wish to cause you any delay."
They again slipped into a comfortable silence, savoring the intrinsic easygoing connection they shared. An old kitchen clock sounded from the wall, loudly ticking away the precious seconds of their rare moment of proximity.
When Hermione was down to the dregs in her cup she began to panic, her throat tightened, making it difficult to breathe normally. Despite wanting nothing more, she didn't know how to keep Minerva from leaving the house and disappearing from her life again. In a barely audible whisper, she squeaked out, "Thank you for coming. It really means a great deal to me."
Never taking her eyes from Hermione's agitated countenance; Minerva gently placed her cup on the coffee table and rose from her chair. She offered a hand and tugged Hermione up when it was accepted. Without a word, she pulled Hermione into an engulfing hug; her strong arms supported the younger woman and held her reassuringly.
"Och, mah lass, ah wull nae be gaen forever. I think it's high time we reacquaint ourselves tae th' rapport we once shared so long ago."
"I've missed you." Hermione sighed into Minerva's shoulder.
"And I, you." Minerva pushed Hermione gently away but gripped her shoulders to keep her from escaping. With her green eyes boring intently into Hermione's brown, Minerva added, "Now that your responsibilities have freed up, perhaps we can visit on occasion?"
"Can it be more than occasionally?" Hermione requested; the bright spark of hope lighting her eyes spoke louder than words.
"Aye, I think that can be arranged." Minerva smiled compassionately. She pulled Hermione in again and left a kiss on her temple. Releasing the ex-minister, Minerva winked and stepped away, "For now, I think I best be going. I have things to do and you have a date."
"Would you like to come?"
"Thank you, but no. I do actually have someplace to be."
Hermione followed Minerva to the back door. "Will you call?"
"Have you a phone? I detest floo calling."
"I do." Hermione tugged her mobile from her hip pocket.
Minerva decisively took the phone from Hermione and entered her own number. Handing it back, Minerva winked again and slipped out through the doorway, disapparating as soon as she reached the shed.
Hermione checked the screen and laughed. Minerva entered her number under the heading "The first venerated witch."