A/N: How exciting this all is. I dunno if I was overzealous with the TW but I thought it better to be safe than sorry. Once again, Minerva was a fully involved party - she chose to stay and experience - so that's what we're going to roll with, k?

K. Enjoy the fallout! N.B Change of Cannon - my fave OC William McGonagall apparently exists here so I had to tweak cannon a bit.

[Also the Copa America? People... what in the flying firetrucks is going on. The US is hosting the World Cup in 2 years and THIS is how they're handling this little game?]

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When Hermione came back, Minerva had managed to collect most of her thoughts and was sitting on the side of the bathtub. As soon as Hermione had gone, she'd realised there was no reason for her to fetch a glass of water and she'd brushed her teeth with a new toothbrush she'd found in the cupboard, exactly where she would have put it. She sat, now, and stared at her hands as question after question rushed through her mind.

A knock on the door heralded the younger woman and she sighed as it opened. Hermione passed over the glass of water but stayed at the door. The silence lengthened until it snapped.

"Why didn't you stop me," Hermione whispered.

"I -"

"You aren't my Minerva, are you?"

A fat tear rolled down the side of Hermione's face and Minerva's heart crumbled.

"I am not."

"I -" Hermione sat on the side of the bath beside her and stared at her hands. "Well now I feel like a predator."

"No," Minerva whispered. "No. I -"

"Please don't say that you are. I'm of age, you know. I have been for a long time."

"I don't, I wasn't -" she groaned and started pacing. She quickly realised she was naked. "Oh."

"Shit, sorry," Hermione whispered. She got up and yanked a robe off the back of the door and passed it to her, without turning. Minerva wrapped it around herself and breathed deeply as it seemed to help some of her exterior form.

"This is yours," Minerva frowned.

"I," Hermione frowned. "Yes?"

"I'd know your scent anywhere."

"Thanks?" Hermione winced. "I guess."

"I'm sorry," Minerva said, facing Hermione and squaring her shoulders. "I am not your Minerva and, quite honestly, I am not sure why I let things continue, but I did so of my own volition. I, not once, felt forced or pressured." She blushed to the roots of her hair. "It was -" she sighed. "You clearly know me very well."

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it again, blinking at her before something settled in her and she started laughing. Minerva stared before she realised how ridiculous the whole thing was and joined in.

"Bloody hell, I am sorry Hermione," Minerva sighed as the laughter died. "I feel -"

"Don't," Hermione sighed. "Let it go. If you enjoyed it," Hermione shrugged. "Then great," she smiled.

"I did," Minerva blushed. "Quite a lot."

"Well," Hermione sighed. "That's something I suppose. What do we do now?"

"I don't know," Minerva whispered. "I have no idea what is happening."

"Shall I make tea?"

"Anything stronger?" Minerva joked.

"Ah, no," Hermione winced. "My Minerva gave that up, about 6 months ago."

That surprised her. She loved a whisky after dinner, a wine with dinner, an occasional fruity cocktail if she was somewhere where nobody knew her.

"May I ask why?"

"You may." A soft smile graced the woman's features and Minerva struggled to pick the expression from the many she already knew from her Hermione. As if she had a right to call her that. "I'll show you, in fact."

Hermione stood and held out her hand. Minerva looked at it for a moment and watched it start to pull away.

"Sorry," Minerva sighed as she reached out at the last second. She squeezed it kindly but then let go. "I -"

"I take it we are not -"

"No," Minerva whispered.

"Do you have -"

"Before tonight, the thought had not crossed my mind. We are very good friends, but I had not ever -"

"Perhaps you will, now," Hermione shrugged.

Minerva snorted and despite her previous movements, allowed Hermione to pull her from the room and into an adjoining one. She stood, stock-still at the door as she stared. The little red phoenixes fluttering on the wall from a nightlight next to a beautiful dark wood cot.

"Come," Hermione smiled. "He's fast asleep."

Minerva stepped forward and stared. A tiny little thing, wrapped snugly in a tartan blanket, lay sleeping. His shock of black hair reminded Minerva of her brothers and she reached forward before catching herself.

"It's ok," Hermione smiled. "You can."

"I wouldn't want to wake him."

She stepped back but Hermione was quicker. The truth that now stood between them seemed to account for nothing as Hermione stepped behind her and stopped the retreat. Minerva's breath caught as those small hands slid down her own and she was pushed forward, back to the baby.

"I carried him," Hermione explained, her breath tickling Minerva's ear. "But you," she chuffed against the sensitive skin on Minerva's neck. "Made him with me, let's say."

Minerva felt a blush from her chest to her cheeks, but Hermione's hands were now resting on hers. She watched them in a sort-of out of body experience, like they didn't belong to her anymore. They reached their prize and Minerva couldn't quite catch the sob that burst forth. Hermione's arm went around her and Minerva gripped hold of it as the fingers of her other hand went through the baby's hair.

"What is his name?" she asked, almost afraid to know.

"Robbie," Hermione said softly. "Robert Malcolm McGonagall."

She sobbed properly but Hermione seemed ready for that. She took Minerva's weight and managed to manoeuvre them to a rocking chair in the corner.

"Easy," Hermione muttered. "It's alright."

"I don't understand," Minerva sobbed into her hands. "I don't -"

"Shh," Hermione murmured. "It's a lot, I know. I'm sorry."

"Please don't apologise," Minerva shook her head. "Not ever. Not for sharing this with me."

Hermione brushed Minerva's hair back with soft fingers. The comfort stilled Minerva's panic and she shuddered when Hermione pulled her in tighter. They rocked in gentle peace until Minerva felt she had overstayed her welcome.

"She is very lucky to have you," Minerva said, making to get up.

"Stay," Hermione muttered sleepily. "I don't know how this has happened or whether this is time, or alternate reality or what, but my Minerva was an island of solitude before we got together. It's okay to borrow me for that in this weird moment."

"I do not want your Minerva to -"

"She won't mind."

"I very much would," Minerva countered.

"I have ways of talking her round," Hermione smiled. Minerva blushed. "Relax, Min. It's alright."

Minerva did as she was asked and relaxed against Hermione feeling the exhaustion of everything beginning to show.

"What happened before this?" Hermione asked absently as her fingers traced Minerva's ribs robotically. "Before you came here?"

"A quidditch match," Minerva muttered. "I think I sustained a head injury."

"Ah," Hermione chuckled. "Alternate reality it is. We were together before that. I talked her out of it."

"My Hermione tried," Minerva mused.

"Yours?" Hermione teased gently.

"She is not. But -"

"You wish she was?"

Minerva groaned and got up, pacing slowly in front of the cot.

"No?" Minerva stopped as Hermione looked at her knowingly. "Not no, but perhaps -" She huffed. "As I said, before you opened my eyes to the possibility, no. But now? I feel," she scrubbed her face. "Cheated almost. And I have clearly cheated her."

"Don't be like that," Hermione chuckled. "She won't hold it against you but I can promise you that she feels something?" Hermione smiled. "Has for a while, most likely. You just have to figure your own feelings out and the rest will probably fall in line."

"We spend a lot of time together, but I never -"

"Did you go to the Oxford conference?" Hermione asked. "In August of 99? Are you past 99?"

"Yes we are, but no I did not attend. I caught the flu," Minerva frowned. "I felt like death, she -" Minerva blushed as she realised truly how stupid she'd been. "She cared for me. She is in her third year of Healing - are you -" Hermione nodded. "I was completely out of it during that time. It didn't occur to me until right now."

A look fluttered over Hermione's face.

"I'm currently taking time off with Robbie, but I work with William." Minerva's heart fluttered at the thought. "You and I were friends first, like your timeline. We went to that conference together; you went to a few that interested you, I went to the ones that pertained to healing but we had lunch all three days in a little cafe around the corner from the venue. We discussed the speakers and I truly fell head over heels while you bemoaned Cyrus Billings' new theory on Alchemy."

"Lord, that man -"

Hermione chuckled but they fell silent as the baby stirred.

"That's what you said then too," Hermione whispered. "Come on, let's go to the kitchen."

Minerva followed Hermione through the house, taking note of the rooms and the decor. Very much parts of it in her taste and parts in what she knew to be Hermione's.

"We moved last year," Hermione explained as she flicked on the kitchen light. Muggle, Minerva noted. "Your house is now occupied by Mr George Weasley and Ms Angelina Johnson and their three kids."

"Give over," Minerva said, her mouth agape.

"Really," Hermione laughed, boiling a muggle kettle. "They needed somewhere to stay that could house their growing family. We wanted something less Wizard and more Muggle so that Robbie could know his heritage. We found this. It's on a few acres with an apple orchard at the back of the property. You and William -"

"I, we, used to -"

"Go scrumping," they said together.

Minerva laughed and remembered the times that her Hermione had done the same with other things.

"It's amazing how much you don't see until you're outside of something, isn't it."

"It is."

They fell into a comfortable silence until Hermione passed her a cup of tea. She took it thankfully and curled her hands around it. It was perfectly made and she looked over at the young woman in wonder.

"I've had a long time to get to know Minerva McGonagall's secrets," she smiled. "Just enjoy it, I think, at this point?"

"I am," Minerva admitted. "It is rather confronting, though. I am strangely proud of your Minerva for being so open. I do not know that I would be so forthcoming."

"It was tough," Hermione admitted. "But it is worth it, Min. To have true, equal, love." Minerva hummed. "Do you think you'll be here tomorrow?" Hermione mused.

"I'm not even sure how I got here today," Minerva chuckled.

"You got knocked out, you say?"

"Aye, I think so," Minerva groaned. "No doubt my Hermione will be crowing about it for a while," she rolled her eyes affectionately. "She does so like to be right."

"I should think so," Hermione scoffed good-naturedly.

Minerva sat with her thoughts for a while and then looked up.

"If I do leave, and I mean this in the best way I can - I hope I do. I would not want to take her place in your life and I would not want to deprive you of her."

"I get it," Hermione smiled.

"But, I do want to thank you," she said evenly. "For," she blushed. "For a fantastic time -" Hermione laughed. "An even lovelier chat and such kind and gentle education. Something which I sorely needed." Hermione squeezed her hand but didn't interrupt. "You were right, I am often considered a fortress of solitude. Many people do not touch and fewer have the bravery to speak to me, except for, well you."

"I stopped being afraid of you so long ago that it's easy to speak to you," Hermione chuckled. "I don't know if it is the same with her but I saw you, when you came home from St Mungo's, in my fifth year."

"Oh I was not well."

"I know, but it helped me see the human side of an otherwise god-like figure." Minerva snorted. "I developed a sort of absent crush not long after that, when you would call on me to demonstrate while you were recovering, when we would sit, after class and just chat? Did you do that there?" Minerva nodded and smiled at the memory. "Well, that's when I realised it was more than just admiration. After we won the war and returned to help clean up, those feelings only got deeper. The conference was when it solidified into something serious. I had to be very brave that week."

"But you were a student when it began?"

"Yes," Hermione shrugged. "But it was not fully formed by adult decisions, nor adult understanding. And I did not do anything about it until much, much later."

Minerva drained her mug and offered to take Hermione's. She rinsed them and put them on the drainer as she heard Hermione chuckle.

"She does the same thing," Hermione smiled. "Come," she sighed. "I need to sleep. Unless you wish to stay -"

"No, you need your rest," Minerva said. "I should too. But I can sleep somewhere else?"

"Not a chance," Hermione said, offering her hand. "Let me hold you, at least. If not for you, I have become quite used to it."

Minerva allowed the cajoling and followed Hermione up the stairs. They met in the middle of the bed and Hermione traced Minerva's jawline, leaning toward to kiss her forehead and both cheeks. Minerva shed a tear into the mattress.

"If you get to a point where you have an opportunity to share your whole life with her, Min, tell her everything. Don't prevaricate." Minerva felt her gut clench. "Trust her, Min," she smiled. "She'll surprise you."

"Not as much as you did," Minerva laughed.

"No," Hermione laughed musically. "Perhaps not."

"It has been a genuine pleasure," Minerva said softly. She took Hermione's hands and squeezed them before placing a kiss to her wrist; a little intimate perhaps but warranted given their evening. "The Minerva in this place is very, very, lucky to have you. Thank you."

"You're most welcome. Goodnight, Min."

"Goodnight, Hermione."