Chapter 3

"Oh fuck! Minerva, please…" Hermione's voice cracked in rapture, her body strained to meet Minerva's ministrations. The bedsheets were damp from sweat and her thighs were soaked with need. As the last flames of desire licked through her veins, Hermione succumbed to a cadaverous stupor.

A pounding echo vaguely infiltrated her coma-like state, pulling Hermione closer to consciousness. Ginny yanking her blankets off and dragging her by the ankles toward the foot of the bed expedited her awakening.

"Good morning sleepyhead!"

"Urgh…"

"Come on, Hermione. The boys are meeting us in Hogsmeade. They're probably already there."

Hermione buried her head under a pillow, begging for another twelve hours of sleep.

"Ron hasn't been up in weeks. Don't you want to see him?"

"Not really," Hermione confessed.

"Oh, come on. You can catch up on your lost sleep tomorrow. Now get up before I drag you to the shower."

Believing the verbalized threat, Hermione slid from the bed and crawled halfway across the floor before Ginny helped her to her feet.

"Damn, Hermione. You look worse than yesterday. I mean, talk about raccoon eyes." Ginny followed her into the bathroom. "You might want to use some makeup today."

"Right, yeah, I'll be out in a few." Hermione closed the door in Ginny's face. Turing to evaluate herself in the mirror, Hermione's jaw dropped. Her eyes looked bruised and her skin had the pallor of a vampire. Her hair was dry and hung limply down her back. And her body ached worse than after the battle of Hogwarts eight months ago. "Shit. Invigoration draught it is."

Ginny burst through the door of the Three Broomsticks and rushed through the room to join Harry and Ron in the back booth. Nearly jumping into Harry's arms, she gave her boyfriend a greeting to last through another week of separation.

"Where's "Mione?" Ron inquired sullenly.

"She's coming," Ginny replied through the joyous grin on her face.

A few moments later, Hermione shouldered the door open and plodded in. Her movements could best be described as dragging ass. She shuffled her feet in a forced, steady progression. Ron met her halfway and she sank into his arms like they were all that held her upright.

"Hey, what's going on?" Ron asked; more miffed that he wasn't getting the same enthusiastic welcome Harry had received than concerned about Hermione's condition.

"Not feeling very well." Hermione allowed.

"You look like hell."

"Way to be sensitive, Ron." Ginny smacked his arm.

"What? She does." Ron maintained. "Are you sick or something?"

"Yeah," Hermione glared at him, infuriated by his reaction. "Sick of you," she bit out through teeth clenched in rage.

"What did I do?"

Hermione stared in disbelief at her boyfriend's lack of emotional comprehension and intellectual capacity. Giving in to everything burning within her she pulled herself to her full height, stiffened her regard, and heatedly cursed, "Fuck you, Ron."

"Wha…? Hermione…wait." Ron ran out after Hermione, oblivious to his inconsiderate behavior and the depth of her anger.

"'Mione…wait…where are you going?" He grabbed at her sleeve only to be thrown a few meters back from the stunning spell that caught him full in the chest. He struggled to his elbows to find empty air where Hermione had stood.

"Good luck fixing this one, mate."

"What the hell, Harry? What did I do?"

"You were a right git, Ron," Ginny yelled at him.

"What?"

"You were so caught up in your own perspective; you couldn't even see how ill Hermione is. You don't deserve her."

"I figured she was just studying too hard, like always."

"Yeah, well, you were wrong."

"Will you bring her back?" Ron pleaded with his sister.

"No. I'm going to spend my free afternoon with my boyfriend. If you're smart, you'll go home and send her a letter begging…and I mean begging, for forgiveness."

Ron scrunched his face in consideration. "Yeah, maybe you're right. See ya later then."

"He is such a prat," Ginny complained after he disapparated. "Come on," she grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him back to the inn. "Let's get a drink."

Hermione was intercepted on her way back to her room by Minerva. The headmistress was returning from a quick supply run to Diagon Alley when she literally bumped into Hermione at the main gate.

"Miss Granger, I do apologize."

"No harm," Hermione muttered, averting her face.

"Miss Granger, are you quite alright?"

"Been better."

"Hermione…" Minerva's low voice, filled with concern drew Hermione's eyes to her. "You do not look well."

"It's nothing."

"It is not 'nothing'. Come with me." Minerva grasped Hermione's arm and assisted her into the castle and all the way to the Head's office.

"I really just need to go get some rest." Hermione pleaded weakly.

"And you will. I would like a word, first."

Hermione knew by the clipped words that Minerva would not brook argument so she followed along passively. Once within the office walls, Minerva summoned the usual tea and biscuits and guided Hermione to the chair closest to the fireplace.

"Now, what is going on with you?" Minerva inquired gently.

Hermione's voice got stuck in her throat when she looked at Minerva and their eyes locked. The concern and sympathy shining in Minerva's emerald green gaze, so unlike Ron's, broke Hermione's stoicism, eliciting a tear to break over the damn of hubris.

"Oh, my dear…" Minerva dropped to her knees and engulfed Hermione in an embrace that destroyed all of her protective walls. She held the younger woman through a release of frustration, exhaustion, confusion, and fear. Once the flood was suspended, Minerva released her charge and pushed herself back into her own chair. Keeping ahold of Hermione's hand, she pressed gently for information. "Hermione, can you tell me…?"

"I am so terribly exhausted. I can't sleep. Or I do sleep but it isn't at all restful. My dreams interrupt the night. When I wake, I am more tired than when I went to bed. I'm taking dreamless sleep potions at night and countering with invigoration draughts when I get up. I feel like I am going mad."

"What are these dreams that are haunting you?"

Hermione dropped her gaze, turning her face back to the fire. "I don't remember." She mumbled.

Minerva knew without a doubt that she was just lied to, but would not push. "Do you think it is the stress of your upcoming NEWTs?"

"Maybe? I don't know. I never had a difficult time with exams before."

"Perhaps the separation from your friends?"

"I doubt it. We've been seeing each other regularly. Although, I think I might have just broken up with Ron." Hermione surprised herself with that admission.

"Oh. Well, I am sorry to hear that."

"Are you?" Hermione's voice was full of actual wonder.

"I had presumed you two would go all the way to marriage."

"Yeah, well, inconsiderate egotism will kill any relationship."

Minerva wisely remained silent at that remark. "Is there anything I can do that might help you?"

"I don't know."

"Fair enough. How about you stay here in the peace and quiet to finish your tea while I busy myself with overdue correspondence?"

Hermione's smile was genuine when she accepted. "That would be lovely. Thank you."

It wasn't five minutes before Hermione was softly snoring in the chair. Minerva deftly transfigured the chair into a chaise and placed a throw over her young ward, leaving the girl to sleep peacefully.

Hermione didn't as much as move a finger as she slept the evening away. Loathe to disturb the girl's rest, Minerva left her alone during the dinner hour and, on return, snuffed out all the lights to allow her to rest as long as possible.

The following morning, Hermione finally stirred just after sunrise, surprised to discover her whereabouts. She hastily folded the blanket and, with the demands of her full bladder pushing her, was about to run when she was stopped by an alert, smooth contralto voice.

"You may use my private washroom…"

"Oh, Professor, I'm sorry."

"There is absolutely nothing to be sorry for," Minerva stated sincerely. "Right through here." She guided Hermione into her private quarters and directed her to the necessary room.

Hermione re-emerged to find the headmistress already back to work at her desk.

"Thank you, Professor."

"I think we have been through enough over the past few years that you may feel free to use my given name when we are in private."

"Oh, ok…ummm…thank you…Minerva. I mean it. This has been the best sleep I've had in days."

"You're welcome, Hermione. You do look better."

"Mmm, I feel better."

"Any time you need a moment; please don't hesitate to come by."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely. Now, you best get yourself refreshed. Breakfast is in twenty minutes."

"Right. Thanks again, Minerva."

Hermione ran back to her own room feeling more alive than she had in ages. "Banded Treeblights," she announced to the fat lady.

"Hmpf" a derisive huff of disapproval sounded from the painting as it swung open to allow entry.

Hermione frowned in perplexity at the portrait's response but skipped through the door and into the common room.

"Where the devil have you been?" Ginny attacked as soon as Hermione emerged.

"I…" Hermione began to explain but stopped herself, "don't need to explain myself to you."

The women stared angrily at each other for almost a full minute. Ginny capitulated first. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I've just been worried. I got back from Hogsmeade and you were nowhere to be found. I've been here" she waved at a chair "all night."

"Well, now you can experience a tiny bit of how I've been feeling for the last week."

"Where were you?" Ginny tried again in a much softer tone.

"I was with the headmistress."

"McG?"

Hermione nodded.

"What were you doing with her?"

"I was sleeping." Hermione offered a crooked smile. "I have no idea what she did."

"You had a sleepover with Minerva McGonagall?" Ginny laughed incredulously.

Hermione started for the stairs to her room with Ginny shadowing her. "I did. I ran into her on my way back here yesterday. She invited me up for tea and a talk. Next thing I know, I'm waking up on a chaise in her office."

"Crazy. Did you actually sleep through?"

"I did."

"You look better."

"Feel better, too. You going to breakfast?"

"Yeah. Meet you downstairs?"

"Sure. Give me five."