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I See Your Smile

Another argument led to another week of silence, which led to another frustrated visit to the office of Professor McGonagall. The visits were routinely occurring on a bi-weekly basis, but not always born of frustration. Hermione had come to realize that having Minerva as an able and willing mentor was highly beneficial. This visit, however, was a little different from the previous months. This visit was taking place after Hermione had lost her temper and actually used a curse against Ron Weasley.

Despite it being mid-afternoon, the corridors were mostly deserted as the students were recovering from the lingering effects of a Quidditch Saturday. Hermione bounced nervously on the balls of her feet while she waited for Professor McGonagall to answer the office door. When the door was finally opened to admit her, she nearly fell into the room.

"Please, come in." Minerva's sarcasm caused Hermione to flinch. Holding her breath, she waited for Minerva's censure, expecting a verbal lashing for her actions.

"Come along, Miss Granger. Tea's ready."

Hermione followed at a sedate pace and took up residence in her usual chair by the fireplace. She accepted the offered cup and then sat mutely, staring at the dancing flames.

"I expect you had a very good reason." Minerva opened.

Hermione glanced up and her jaw dropped in surprise. Instead of the annoyed judgmental scowl she was expecting, she found green eyes sparkling with barely contained mirth and soft lips pinched closed in a crooked smirk of amusement fighting the grin that threatened to break free. Her body sank with relief into the cushions and she giggled with her reply. "He made me mad."

"I assumed," Minerva muttered into her teacup. Mirroring Hermione's action, she sat back into her chair and sagely eyed her pupil. "I expect better use of restraint in the future."

"I'll try."

After a moment of shared quiet, Hermione asked softly, "Is he really injured?"

"Mostly his pride," Minerva answered. "He has a few cuts and scratches but nothing life-threatening."

Hermione again saw the quirk of a smile on her professor's face topped off with soft green eyes that bore into her soul. The warmth that filled her at that expression was unanticipated and disorienting. Nothing more was said of Ron Weasley or the lapse in self-discipline.

In the weeks that followed the canary attack, Hermione began to seek out Professor McGonagall with increasing frequency. Visits began to shift from scholastic advisory consultations to more socially companionable engagements. Conversations varied from course studies and current events to theater and gardening. The only thing constant from one meeting to the next was Hermione's attempt to coax one of those special smiles from Minerva.

Since she first witnessed it, Hermione was constantly watching to see if Minerva ever smiled like that for anyone else. All that extra attention uncovered an amazing array of expressions conveying a host of emotions. Two months into her intensive study, Hermione developed the ability to instantly read her professor's disposition at any given moment. She also happily determined she was indeed the only recipient of that particular smile; the softened visage, amused smirk, and mirth-filled sparkling eyes.

"Miss Granger."

"What?" Hermione jumped in her seat. "Sorry?"

Professor McGonagall's right eyebrow inched up and her lips twitched with an amused smirk. "If you care to rejoin us…I asked whether Bumbridge's theory of cohesion has relevance with today's assignment?"

"Oh…um…well…I mean…yes?"

"Thought-provoking response, Miss Granger." McGonagall winked and moved away, continuing with her lecture on transfiguring hair color.

Glancing around nervously, Hermione grimaced when she met a questioning frown from Harry and a haughty sneer from Ron. Feeling embarrassed and a bit raw after getting caught daydreaming in class, Hermione was emotionally primed for yet another squabble with Ron. His cruel mockery cut her more deeply than she would have expected and she ran for the solitude of the girls' lavatory when the class bell rang.

"Hello?" Luna Lovegood's concerned voice echoed through the room. "Oh! Hermione, I thought you were Myrtle."

"Myrtle left. She doesn't like to compete for sympathy." Hermione sniffed loudly.

"Why are you here?"

"Ron was rather cruel to me in class."

"Ron thinks he is quite funny."

"Well, he isn't. He got all smug when I got caught daydreaming in class. And then he made fun of me for a laugh in front of the other girls"

"Are you suffering a Dendri-Mite infestation?"

"What?" Hermione asked, confused by the question.

"Dendri-Mites. They infest our brains to feed off of neural dendrites. They cause confusion and disorientation. I wondered because you are not normally vacant during Professor McGonagall's lectures."

"Oh…that…no, I don't have Dendri-Mites."

"Were you distracted with the Christmas party tonight?"

"No."

"I'm surprised Professor McGonagall didn't hex him."

"What? When?"

"When he was making fun of you."

"Why would you think she'd hex him?" Hermione felt a spark of something ignite in her chest.

"She obviously favors you." Luna's uncanny ability to accurately understand and speak the unfiltered truth behind her observations struck Hermione dumb. "You two are so alike despite the years between you. I know you're very fond of the professor. I would expect her to be protective."

Hermione washed away the proof of her tears and hid behind a towel while trying to collect her scattered emotions. Gathering her belongings, Hermione headed towards the exit with Luna at her shoulder.

"You know…" Luna started again. "You two would make a handsome couple."

"Luna!"

"I'm pretty sure she's single." Luna encouragingly patted Hermione's back as they stepped from the washroom. "Oh, hello, Harry…"

Hermione ran off as soon as she could. She and Minerva each had a free period and she wanted to use the time to present the professor with a Christmas gift since there would not be another chance before leaving for the holiday. She ran to her room and then tore off through the castle, back to the professor's office.

"Enter." Minerva's gruff invite was barked through the door.

"Professor, are you busy?"

"Miss Granger, come in."

Hermione noted Minerva's face light up with a smile.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes. I'm fine."

"Are you certain? You did not look fine when you ran from my classroom."

"I'm alright, Professor. Thank you."

"So what can I do for you?"

"Umm…I…well…I…"

"Miss Granger, you seem to have lost your ability to form a coherent sentence in my company."

"No...no...it's just…here." Hermione shoved an intricately wrapped package into Minerva's hands. "Happy Christmas, Professor."

"Oh, well, thank you."

"It's nothing…I mean…"

"Miss Granger," McGonagall smiled softly, "perhaps you ought to let it speak for itself."

"Oh…ok…"

"Will you be going home to see your parents for the holiday?" Minerva asked kindly, sliding the gift onto her desktop.

"Yes. Tomorrow. But I have to go to Professor Slughorn's party this evening."

"Ah. Lucky you. Are you going with Harry?"

"No. I've asked Cormac McLaggen," Hermione heard her voice explain and turned red at the admission.

"Mr. McLaggen? Really? I would never have paired you with him."

"It's really only as friends."

"Ah." Minerva eyed the young woman with understanding. "I apologize, but I did not get you a gift."

"That's alright, Professor."

"Well, thank you for your kindness, Miss Granger." Minerva began to usher Hermione towards the door. "I'd ask you to stay, but I have too much work to finish before I can leave for the holidays. Have a lovely time tonight and a safe journey home."

"Oh…right…ok…ummm…thank you, Professor. Happy Christmas."

"And you."

Hermione made her way slowly back to Gryffindor Tower. The tiny light of hope Luna had sparked with her words dimmed. The professor seemed rather cool for someone who "favored" her. Shrugging off the perplexing exchange, Hermione decided to retreat into her books before dinner.

A small brown owl tapped impatiently on an iced windowpane. When the window was heaved open the feathered creature tumbled into the warmth of the house and was caught up in gentle hands.

"Well, hello there. Why don't you have a rest here on my desk and I'll find you a snack."

Hermione returned to her room with a small plate of leftover Christmas dinner. "Here you go. I hope you like ham." She offered the feast in exchange for the letter held fast in sharp talons. Tearing the envelope open, she watched the owl to observe its appetite. "I guess you were a bit hungry. Where did you come from? Was it a long trip?"

A quick glance at the letter answered her question. "Wow. Scotland. That is a long flight. You must be exhausted. Stay as long as you'd like."

Dear Miss Granger,

Thank you for the lovely brooch. I appreciate the thought you put into it. Not everyone is adept at choosing a gift that fits so well.

I do hope you are having an enjoyable visit with your family. I fear these brief interludes of peace will soon become a rarity.

Hoping for your safe return.

Warmest regards,

M. McGonagall

Hermione read the short missive five times. Each reading gave her a deeper insight and understanding of what Minerva was not writing. Between the lines, Hermione made out that she was, indeed, held in favor. She also discovered Minerva was deeply concerned about the looming clouds of war and the specific threat against Harry and his friends.

The small owl scuttled across the desktop, surprising Hermione and making her jump. "Oh, I forgot you were here. Give me a moment." Grabbing pen and paper she jotted a reply.

Dear Professor McGonagall

To be honest, I did not pick the brooch. It picked me. I saw it in the display case and it practically screamed your name. I am so glad you like it.

I am having a lovely time with my parents. They are already planning for summer vacation. Maybe a trip abroad.

There does not seem to be any reason to change our return travel plans to Hogwarts. The trip home was rather long and boring; I expect the same in reverse.

I hope you have a restful break from all the demands of the job.

I'll see you in class.

Sincerely,

Hermione

PS, I finished reading The Queen's Sacrifice. Prepare for checkmate.

Hermione grinned at the last. She hoped Minerva would appreciate her playful attempt at lifting their spirits. Before releasing the owl into the night, she offered some water in exchange for taking the letter. "Thank you. Take care."

Hermione escaped Gryffindor Tower and the spectacle of Ron and Lavender snogging and hastened through the castle toward Professor McGonagall's office and their scheduled meeting. The weary voice that responded to her knuckles rapping against the solid wood door warned Hermione that Minerva was already exhausted.

"Professor, should we reschedule?" Hermione asked from the doorway.

"Miss Granger, please come in." Minerva ignored the offer. "It's lovely to see you again. Did you have a good holiday?"

"Yes, thank you," Hermione replied while following Minerva to the sitting area. "I appreciate you seeing me this evening."

"Since you do not have Transfiguration until Friday, is it safe to assume this meeting is to discuss the Apparition training?"

"I signed up this afternoon."

"I had expected as much."

"I read Tanniger'sThe Fear of Splinchingand Mahajan'sApparate, Floo, or Fly: Safety briefly explain the theory but prefer to describe in gory detail the outcome of failing."

"I would not have recommended either of those to a novice." Minerva smiled softly. "So you are now afraid to proceed?"

"Oh, no, I am quite determined to learn. I was just hoping you would enlighten me on the proper theory and procedure to avoid splinching and other catastrophes."

"Were you now?" Minerva chuckled. "I am not an apparition expert."

"I would argue. I have seen you disapparate and you don't even turn like all the books say you must."

"Tea, Miss Granger?"

"Please."

Once the warm brew was poured, Minerva began. "The turn is essential for beginners. There is a required energy motion behind the spell that is sort of kick-started with the practitioner's turning without having to think about it. Once one is adept at the rest of the requirements, the energetic turn can be incorporated within one's concentrated thought."

"So there's Destination, Determination, Deliberation,andenergy motion?"

"Yes. The motion acts similarly to a tornado pulling an object from the ground and transporting it meters or kilometers along. That effect creates a great deal of pressure, making it feel like you are being sucked through a straw. Advanced practitioners incorporate that direction within the spell's framework, therefore eliminating the need to physically turn. It's mostly a factor of efficiency."

"So, it's actually thefour D's." Hermione surmised.

"I suppose it is."

"So how does one splinch?"

"Ah. The fear factor. Did you not read it in the book?"

"I did, but I don't understand what he was trying to describe."

"While apparating, one must keep focus all the way to arrival at the destination. If you break your focus, even just a nanosecond, the energy reacts by closing in before you are ready. Using the tornado reference, it would be like you are traveling within the eye but then a part of you gets caught in the swirling funnel and torn from your body."

After moments considering apparition, Hermione enquired, "How long did it take you?"

"To first succeed?" Hermione nodded her head. "My fifth lesson I managed to land completely within the hoop."

"Did you fail the exam?"

Minerva leveled amused eyes on Hermione. "No."

The goal post to their private competition was set. Hermione had a targeted objective to achieve. It was no question she had the determination aspect of the spell perfected.

"Care to practice what you learned of the Queen's sacrifice?" At Hermione's grin, Minerva summoned the chessboard nearer. "White or Black?"

With Harry out for the evening attempting to obtain Slughorn's memory and Ron caught up in an argument with Lavender Brown, Hermione escaped the common room and hurried through the corridors toward McGonagall's office. Although it was late, she knew the professor was swamped with work; both her teaching assignments and her Deputy Head responsibilities. The tired voice granting entrance to the room drew a protective sigh from Hermione.

"Miss Granger? What has you out at curfew?"

"I passed."

"Did you?" Minerva asked, her entire guise overcome with pride. "How wonderful." Minerva pushed herself away from the drudgery at her desk and guided Hermione to the comfortable chairs. A tea set appeared and Minerva served without asking.

"I'm pretty sure I surpassed your record." Hermione giggled as she accepted a cup.

"Is that so?"

"My first successful attempt was during our fourth class."

Minerva chuckled warmly and lifted her cup in a toast of recognition. "Congratulations." After a sip of tea she added, "It's a good thing you don't play Quidditch. I need to hold on to at least one of my accolades."

"Ron failed. He lost half an eyebrow." Hermione reported skeptically.

Instantly serious, Professor McGonagall explained, "As easy to lose a leg as half an eyebrow. It is a testament to how dangerous apparating can be. The examination standards are very strict for good reason."

"But, I mean, he has the theory and know-how."

"And next time he will have the necessary concentration," Minerva spoke with finality, refusing to agree with Hermione's reasoning. "You passed the examination but your license will not take effect until the end of term. The Ministry red tape is atrocious."

"Not that I want to, but I can't apparate until July?"

"Technically, you would be able to but you would still be traceable and fined if you do."

"Why was Butcher's theory of light wave manipulation accepted as original and innovative when it basically replicates Haugen's work some two hundred years earlier?" Hermione veered away from the subject of apparition.

Their lively debate kept them entertained for hours. As the clock neared half midnight, Minerva escorted Hermione through the castle to ensure her safe return to her room. The fat lady opened to the password but grumbled her discontent. "What is it with all you students out after curfew? Don't any of you sleep?"

"There are other students out tonight?" Minerva asked sharply.

"Goodnight, Professor." Hermione interrupted, trying to distract the irritated witch. "Thank you for everything tonight."

"Ooh, yes…everything…and what would that be?" the fat lady pushed.

"Oh, shut up," Minerva muttered to the portrait. "You're welcome, Miss Granger, and congratulations again. I am very proud of your accomplishment."

Hermione grinned in response before slipping behind the painting.

The astronomy tower battle and the ensuing death and funeral of Albus Dumbledore deprived Hermione of her link with Professor McGonagall. The end of term should have been a cheerful occasion filled with well wishes and promises to return in the fall. Instead, as Hermione followed Harry and Ron onto the train with the knowledge they would not be back, a gaping chasm split open and severed the prospect of a reunion with her beloved teacher. Gone was the smile that offered encouragement, acceptance, and acknowledgment of a privately shared connection.

Hogwarts Express rumbled through the familiar scenery with an air of unfamiliar reticence. The train's cars were filled with mourning students who, if conversing, were doing so in low, respectful tones. The compartment Hermione was sharing with Harry and Ron remained silent, each of the friends deep in their own thoughts.

As the train rolled over the border of Scotland, Hermione, lost in the memory of her final moments at Hogwarts, choked back a sob of remorse. She had sought out Professor McGonagall after the funeral and in an act of attrition, confessed she and the boys would not be returning.

"Have you gone completely insane?" Minerva snarled.

"No." Hermione denied. "We have to complete the mission. It's the only way…"

"And you honestly believe the three of you traipsing willy-nilly around the United Kingdom is the answer?"

"Well…no, but…"

"What are you even supposed to be doing?"

"I can't tell you."

"You can't…" Minerva glared at Hermione in disbelief.

"Harry swore to Professor Dumbledore he wouldn't tell anyone else besides Ron and me."

"And I suppose this top-secret mission cannae possibly be done from here."

"No…"

Hermione felt her heart crack as Minerva sat heavily at her desk and held her head in her hands.

"Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?"

"I promised."

"Well then, you best go. I wouldn't want you to miss the train."

"Professor?"

"Away with you, Miss Granger. You have a war to win." Minerva turned away and began rifling through a stack of papers on her desk.

Hermione stood mutely, waiting for the professor to look at her again. Minerva's refusal to further acknowledge her presence rent her heart completely. Without another word, the once favored student walked away from her broken heart.