Note: This could be considered chapter 9.5 as it takes place the very same day as the previous chapter.
Pins and Needles
Chapter 10: Chronicles in Crimson
After their reconciliation, Minerva and Hermione had returned to the manor for a very late breakfast and then decided to take the day off, for lack of a better term, and just spend some time together. Minerva had taken them to a long beach situated at the end of a beautiful bay close to the northernmost point of the Scottish mainland. Far from being packed even at the height of summer, at this time of the year it was almost completely deserted. Hermione had instantly fallen in love and eagerly agreed to walk the length of it before Minerva had even been able to fully voice the proposal to do so.
After a few minutes, Hermione had decided to get rid of her shoes and started walking close enough to the surf that the cold water splashed her feet from time to time while Minerva, who had also taken off her shoes but preferred dry feet, kept to her left.
They had walked about half the length of the beach in silence when Hermione suddenly spoke up. "It's my fault, really."
Hermione's words jarred Minerva out of her own stream of thought. She replayed the last moments before those words in her mind to make sure she had not missed anything Hermione might have said before, but only came up with the sounds of wind and waves.
"What is?" she asked.
"Our argument this morning," Hermione clarified.
Minerva shot her a look that clearly stated her objection. "I believe we agreed on mutual overreaction."
Hermione shook her head. "Before that. Matters of inheritance are a rather obvious consequence of becoming a part of your family. I should have thought of it myself. It's hardly your fault I didn't do my homework."
Minerva sighed. "You are being too hard on yourself."
Hermione shrugged. "Maybe." She stopped to pick up a pebble and turned it over a few times in her hand before throwing it into the surf. Still facing the waves, she said, "It's just … so unlike me. I just want to be me again. Does that make any sense?"
"It does." Minerva had closed the distance between them and now stood right next to her, looking out onto the sea as well. "And you will. Not quite the same because we all change all of the time, war or no war. But you will feel like yourself again, I promise."
One of the bigger waves managed to submerge their feet and Hermione watched as the water it had brought retreated again before asking, "How can you be sure?"
"Because you are still there." Minerva's voice was calm, but firm. "Battered, bruised. But not broken."
Hermione turned to look at her. "And how can you be sure about that?"
"Because I can see you." Minerva had turned towards Hermione as well, meeting her eyes before continuing, "There are moments when you are just that. You. And those moments are going to become more and more frequent." She shrugged. "And that is really all there is to it. That is what healing is. But it is not smooth and it is not going to happen overnight. You need to be patient with yourself." She held Hermione's gaze, willing her to believe in her words. Taking note of the way Hermione kept blinking rapidly, she added, "And you are allowed to cry. It is vital, actually."
As if she had been waiting for permission, Hermione surrendered to her tears while Minerva engulfed her in a tight embrace. They stood like that for several minutes, Hermione sobbing into Minerva's chest, Minerva lightly stroking Hermione's back, while every once in a while one of the bolder waves washed around their feet.
Finally, Hermione's sobs started to subside. Still sniffling, she spoke up again while maintaining her hold on Minerva. "When do you get to cry?" Close as she was, she was able to feel Minerva's light chuckle even though the waves drowned out its sound. Looking up at the older woman's face, she saw her question answered without the need for words.
After finishing their beach walk, they had returned to the manor for supper and then retreated to the library as they did on most evenings. Noting that the evenings had become quite cool, Minerva had started up the fireplace for the first time, aside from flooing purposes, this season.
They had then started a game of chess as they had done on many evenings recently. Much to her initial surprise, Hermione had found that she enjoyed the game immensely when playing with a partner like Minerva, who was very good, but decidedly uncompetitive at the same time. Surrounded by old books, slightly tipsy from the whisky, Minerva had insisted she try, and thoroughly enjoying the company, Hermione found herself thinking she must have ended up in heaven somehow. She let her mind drift to how exactly that had come to pass and when Minerva had made her move, she said, "May I ask you something?"
"Of course." Somewhat amused, Minerva added, "Just so you know, there is no need to ask permission every time you are curious about something."
Hermione was too focused on her train of thought to react to the remark. "Our meeting at the Vellum. Was that a coincidence?"
After their argument that morning, it was a bit of a loaded question, so Minerva was more than just a tad apprehensive when she shook her head and answered, "No." She was relieved to see that Hermione merely raised an eyebrow but let her continue without intervening. "I had been at the shop a week before and Othilia – Mrs. Bloom, the owner, that is – pointed you out to me. She also told me about your extended stays. At that point it would have been as much of a coincidence as the two of us meeting in the best academic magic bookshop in all of Britain could ever be considered to be. But I needed some time to think. And, frankly, to gather my courage."
Apparently that explanation had been good enough as Hermione merely smiled and answered, "I'm glad you did. Though, I didn't consider myself quite so fearsome."
"That would depend entirely on how vulnerable the person assessing you happens to be," Minerva replied softly, then swiftly continued without giving Hermione a chance to react, "May I ask you something in return? Something that I have been wondering about for quite some time?"
Grinning, Hermione nodded and answered, "There is no need to ask permission," proving that she had heard after all.
"What really happened with that troll in the girl's bathroom in your first year?" Minerva asked.
That was not what Hermione had been expecting. They had hardly ever talked about her times at Hogwarts so far. She was not sure why, but taking a trip that far down memory lane made her blush profusely. "Why would you ask that?"
Minerva chuckled. "I have many shortcomings, my dear, but I am in no way stupid. You, on the other hand, have many talents, but happen to be a dreadful liar."
Hermione laughed. "I know!" She made a mental note to tell Minerva about being forced to impersonate Bellatrix some time, then proceeded to tell the troll story - as it had really happened. When she had finished, she asked, "If you knew I was lying, why did you let it pass?"
Raising an eyebrow, Minerva answered, "I should think it fairly obvious."
Hermione shook her head. "It is so very hard to connect that strict and …," she paused for a moment, searching for the most fitting term, "... imposing teacher I saw back then with the …," there was another short pause, but then she continued, "... woman I am only getting to know now."
Minerva found herself wondering what adjectives Hermione would have used to describe her had she not merely skipped them, but settled for answering her question. "I believe we have already established that I am not stupid. Nor am I socially obtuse. I was aware that you were having a hard time making friends. I was hardly going to sabotage your progress." She smirked. "I may, at times, have questioned that decision in the following years when the three of you were being particularly reckless." They shared amused grins, before she continued, "In retrospect though, it may very well have been my single most important contribution to our war efforts."
"You're exaggerating," Hermione objected.
Minerva shook her head. "I very much doubt that."
Blushing wildly, Hermione turned her attention back to the game.
When they finally decided to retire for bed, they said their good-nights at the top of the main stairway, just as they did every evening. This time, however, after taking a few steps down the hallway, Hermione found herself turning to stare after the retreating form of the other woman. Only when Minerva moved to close her door did she notice Hermione was still standing there.
Their eyes locked and Hermione found herself cursing her stupidity. It was not as if she had never seen someone close a door before. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have realised she was bound to be caught staring.
It was Minerva who broke the silence. "Are you planning on coming down to the library again later?"
"Um …" Once again, Hermione felt herself blushing furiously. They had already covered what a terrible liar she was. And if she was being honest, there really was no way the situation could possibly become any more embarrassing, so she decided to stick with the truth, "Yes, actually."
Minerva smiled at her warmly. She appeared to be lost in some inner debate for a few seconds, then said, "You know, I happen to have a perfectly comfortable, rather huge bed in here. In case you feel like saving us both some effort." She winked at her teasingly before closing the door.
Ready for bed, Hermione found herself standing in her room, her eyes alternating between her bed and the door. She could not simply go over there, now could she? But then, she had been explicitly invited. And all things considered, Minerva was quite right in her assessment. Going down to the library just to eventually transfigure the furniture there night after night was nothing short of ridiculous.
She found herself crossing the hallway, getting more nervous with every step. As she neared the master bedroom, she saw a stream of light on the right side of the door, telling her that it had been left slightly ajar. Hermione felt relief flood through her. She had not been sure she would succeed in bringing herself to knock.
She slowly pushed the door open and saw Minerva sitting on the far side of the bed, leaning against the headboard, a book in hand. She greeted her with a warm smile, slightly tipping her head towards the other side of the bed and a second duvet in invitation.
The bed was huge indeed. Finally relaxing somewhat, Hermione made herself comfortable, puffing up her pillow and lying down on her side, her head resting on both the pillow and her right arm. Then she glanced at the title of Minerva's book. "That seems innocent enough," she said, winking at her.
Blushing, Minerva muttered, "Fool me once …"
"Read to me?" Hermione repeated her request from the night before.
Minervas snorted. "It is a textbook on Quidditch tactics through the ages! Surely you jest."
Hermione shrugged. "I don't care what it is. I have always loved just listening to your voice." Noting Minerva's raised eyebrows, she continued, "We both know I was paying attention to all of my classes. But you, I could have quoted verbatim, no matter the topic." She resisted the urge to look away.
"Is that so, Miss Granger?" Minerva's eyes shone with amusement as she started reading, drawing on her teacher voice to do so.
Hermione's eyes widened and she playfully slapped the other woman's side. "Oh, sweet Merlin, please stop. You're making me feel like a first year again …"
Minerva laughed. "Well, that won't do at all."
"You're an evil woman!" Hermione tried her best to send her an evil glare, but finally found herself laughing as well until she noticed Minerva had become silent again and was fixing her with a calculating stare. She furrowed her brows slightly instead of putting her question in words.
"I was just trying to come up with something more to your liking. You have mentioned never having heard of Beedle the Bard. So maybe another staple of wizarding literature? Have you ever read Chronicles in Crimson?" Taking note of Hermione's blank stare, she continued, "I will take that as a no. It is a, if not the, classic in wizarding crime fiction and I believe you will like it." She put the quidditch book on her nightstand and waved her hand. A few seconds later a book bound in crimson leather came flying through the fireplace.
Hermione chuckled. "I guess the master bedroom was put right above the library for a reason."
Minerva just winked at her then proceeded to open the book that Hermione judged to be at least a century old, probably more. Minerva went on, "I have been told it has been an inspiration to a muggle author named Conan Doyle."
Hermione gaped, her mind racing to connect the dots. "You're kidding."
Minerva shrugged slightly. "I will have to admit I am in no position to make the comparison. Judge for yourself."
She started reading, this time using the much softer voice Hermione had come to know and cherish over the last months. Closing her eyes to better concentrate on the words, she quickly realised that even though the muggle author had felt the need to switch the gender of both main characters, and had, of course, been forced to make quite a few adjustments to make the story work in the non-magical world, the similarities between the two stories were still staggering.
As Minerva had predicted, Hermione found herself enjoying the story immensely. However, after a few minutes of just lying there, listening contently, she found her thoughts drifting once again. Soon enough, Minerva noticed that her eyes were no longer closed but instead fixed on her intently. She returned the gaze, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly.
Hermione smiled apologetically. "I was just thinking. This morning, when I woke up, everything was just … perfect. Then, after our argument, I was scared I had ruined it all." Her smile had turned sombre at the last words.
Minerva's smile mirrored her own. "I felt the same way. But it will take a lot more to get rid of me. I promise." She reached out to gently squeeze Hermione's hand in assurance.
"Me too." Hesitating for a moment, Hermione then swiftly proceeded to close the distance and snuggle up against Minerva. Looking up at her, Hermione's smile had changed once again to one that Minerva would have described as impish. "Go on reading?" she prodded.
Taken by surprise, the older woman froze for a moment, but then relaxed and put one of her arms around Hermione to make the position more comfortable for both of them before she continued, while Hermione happily rested her head on her shoulder.
Notes:
Minerva talking about healing on the beach is a clear case of armchair psychology. She's not a psychologist after all, neither am I. I'm fully aware there are situations when a bit of talking and cuddling and waiting for things to improve is not going to be enough. I am definitely not trying to deny or downplay those, it's just not the way I picture Hermione in this story. (And if things really were that bad, Minerva would know to get outside help.)
The name of the book they're reading and the chapter's title refer to A Study in Scarlet, the first novel to feature Sherlock Holmes.
Reviews are very much appreciated! (That includes pointing out mistakes or other forms of constructive criticism.)
