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Hermione got up for the hundredth time and walked to the door to check on everyone outside. Poppy was almost running back and forth between beds and Hermione's heart went out to her.

Between Hermione, Filius and William, they'd figured out a way of creating a semi-complete stasis charm on the curtains, similar to infectious disease pods that Muggles used for triage purposes. It kept the infection contained within the curtains and Hermione had been instrumental in providing the information to Filius so he could perform the spells while Poppy retrieved Minerva's diary from her desk.

It felt so long ago and now it was just a waiting game.

As it had been for the last week.

She and Winky had dunked Minerva in ice water several times a day for every one of those days. Hermione had long since lost any feelings of it being a novel experience, but she still relished the moments when Minerva shivered under Hermione's chin for a little while before she fell into a deep sleep. Proprietary had long since been lost as Hermione took care of her every need without thought, after so many days. The sleep between dunks was getting longer and deeper and it was worrying Hermione that Minerva did not seem as coherent anymore when she did wake up. Winky had stayed with them both religiously and Hermione was thankful for it.

She sighed and rubbed her head. If anything, Hermione was more worried now than she had been when things began. While she wasn't sure Minerva was getting worse, she wasn't totally certain she was being better, either.

And that felt terrifying after so long and after so much work. And with no progress to cling to.

She sighed again and looked over at the woman. Winky was sleeping in the corner, in a little nest that she'd made of some spare sheets. Hermione had not slept at all. She'd tried, she really had. But instead, she sat in a chair next to Minerva's hip and watched the woman's chest rise and fall. After more than a week of it, her back was sore and her neck was locked but every time she closed her eyes she was terrified that Minerva might very well leave her. She rubbed ruefully on the sorer areas of her neck and turned back around to look at the woman who was wedged so deep in her heart she knew that no matter what happened, there would never be another.

She sighed again and dropped her hands to her sides. She'd spent all morning going over the notes from the Potions Professor on something that might help, or even cure it, but it was a hard job after no sleep and she wasn't sure her suggestions would even help. It wasn't going particularly well but it was something they were working on and theory, at least, looked promising. It would definitely help as the others progressed through the disease, but she was concerned that Minerva's case was already too deep.

To that end, so far, only three children had come down with the disease. More concerning, however, was what they had found when they reached out to Kingsley to both inform him Hogwarts was closed and to warn him about a wider outbreak. Logged in Minerva's diary, in tiny script that Hermione had needed a magnifying glass to read, was a meeting with one of the Ministers about the ongoing budget.

Kingsley's letter has been full of concern for Minerva but when Poppy got to the bottom, her voice failed and Hermione had to demand that she read it out loud, kicking the door like the woman had so many days ago. With a trembling voice, Poppy read that the Ministry official Minerva had met with, had since been found dead.

Now, it was all Hermione could think of.

She groaned again as she pulled her hair to try and dislodge the terrifying thoughts that were getting louder and louder. They were still no closer to figuring out why Minerva had succumbed a second time but at this point, Hermione reasoned that it didn't even matter. Instead, they concentrated on a cure, something to ease the temperature she had at least. The temperature that has lasted so many days.

But it was all so slow.

And it felt like all the hope was draining from the room, one heartbeat at a time.

She sat, this time, on the edge of the bed and traced her fingers over Minerva's face, from her temple to her chin.

"I wish I had told you," Hermione whispered. "I wish I had the chances I didn't take, over again. I would have been braver, Min. I would have told you everything I needed to. I would have kissed you." Hermione wiped her eyes. "Oh, god, I would have kissed you. I wish I had the opportunity to tell you that I love you, every day. And now that I might not ever get to do so, I'm so scared, Min. I'm so scared I won't ever get to tell you -"

She sobbed into her hands and then took a deep breath to try and calm herself. The sadness, however, was so overwhelming and she felt herself speaking before her brain could stop her.

"Min," she whispered. She leaned down so she could speak directly into the woman's ear. "I'm going to tell you something, just -" She looked up at the ceiling to will the tears away. "Just in case I never get to do so." She leaned away a little bit and watched Minerva's face for any sign that she was aware. When she saw none, she leaned back in. "I love you, Minerva McGonagall. I love you like I've never loved before. I will love you until the end of time and I will never love another."

She closed her eyes and nudged Minerva's burning cheek gently, with her nose. She stroked her hand through Minerva's hair just to busy her hands. Winky had helped her take care of it while Minerva was ill and it had become one of the best parts of Hermione's day. Dragging a brush through the long tresses made her smile and with careful instruction, Winky had even taught Hermione how to plait it too.

Now, though, she had almost lost the will to fight. Almost. She glanced at Winky and then at the door. Poppy rarely looked in on them anymore, being more concerned with the 3 students in beds than Minerva, knowing both her and Winky were watching over her.

Hermione stood again and paced.

She was so tired that when she covered her face to cry into her hands, she could not even manage to bring forth tears. Before she could stop herself, she shakily picked up her wand and widened the bed. She did not stop to think, nor did she wish to. She got into the bed and lay beside Minerva while the abject desolation seemed to fill every corner of the room.

"God, I love you Min," she hiccuped. "I love you." She slid her hand under Minerva's neck and rolled the woman into her arms. Minerva didn't move, except for where Hermione moved her and it made a sob echo around the room from deep within her soul. She clutched Minerva's slack body to her chest and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. "I love you," she repeated like a prayer. "I love you Min. Please don't leave me. Please. I can't -"

The last thing she recalled before she fell into the darkness of nothing was Winky's quiet hum of sympathy and a cool set of claws on her shoulder.

"It will be okays, Mistress Hermione," Winky soothed. "Sleep. Sleep now."

She wasn't sure whether Winky had helped, but that black nothingness beckoned and she fell into it head first.