Run To Me

xXx

xXx

xXx

Professor Minerva McGonagall paced anxiously in front of the headmaster's office door, waiting for the man to arrive. As soon as Headmaster Dumbledore turned the hallway corner, Minerva pounced like a cat on a mouse.

"Albus, can you spare a moment?"

The elder wizard paused in front of her and kindly offered. "For you, Minerva, I can spare a hundred moments. How may I be of help?"

Minerva smiled gratefully into the sparkling blue eyes of her dearest friend and occasional coconspirator and confided, "I have a bit of a personal dilemma to discuss."

"Ah. Come along then. We'll have some tea."

The pair stepped past the gargoyle guarding access to the office and patiently waited while the stairs carried them up to the suite.

"Sherbet lemon?" Dumbledore offered politely once they poured their tea.

"You know I dae nae care for them. Why must you always offer?"

"Women are known to change their minds," he jovially rationalized.

Minerva rolled her eyes in aggravation.

"What is troubling you, my dear?"

"With all that has transpired over these past few months, I find I have considerable concern for Hermione Granger."

"Why her, specifically?"

"She is rather withdrawn from her classmates, she is often distracted during her classes and she seems to be consumed with doubt."

"And how has this become a personal dilemma of yours?"

"She is in my house, is she not? Is it not my responsibility to offer her guidance?"

"Yes, of course."

Minerva pursed her lips in consideration before continuing. "I have felt her power, Albus. Like strings drawn taught, thrumming with untapped energy. She is utterly remarkable and I worry she might be drawn in with the wrong crowd. Do you think I would be unwise to offer myself as sanctuary?"

"I can't see why not. She is, as you say, one of your cubs."

"Every bairn in the house of Gryffindor is a cub under my charge." Minerva unaccountably became irritable, her voice slipping into a thick brogue. "But this wee lass…for some reason, I can nae fathom, is extraordinarily dear tae me, Albus. Ah see so much o' myself in her…"

"Now, Minerva, there's no need to get your Scottish up. She is a special young woman. And I believe you would be the best choice to offer her a little extra support and comfort. As you say, these trying times are affecting us all. Miss Granger, being muggle born, is perhaps a bit more sensitive to the events that have come to pass. No one would fault you for taking the girl under your wing in an offer of succor and protection."

"Would it not elicit questions about my motivation? Is it not inappropriate for us to demonstrate favoritism with our students?"

"Minerva, we are caught up in paradoxical times. Everything we have heretofore taken as correct and proper must metamorphose in order for our world to continue on. Therefore, I suggest you do what you feel is right and damn the pedigreed opinion."

xxxxx

A mountain troll within the castle walls was distressing enough. But, a mountain troll within the close quarters of a girl's lavatory attempting to crush the skull of her favorite student was terrifying. By the time Minerva slammed through the door to her private quarters that night, she was fit to be tied. No one had a viable explanation for how the creature had been able to enter the citadel, never mind how it managed to get all the way to the third floor bathroom.

The first pour of whisky went down in one. The second was carried to the armchair by the hearth and nursed slowly while Minerva pondered over the incident. Unsure how she controlled herself, she was grateful she had maintained her professionalism and reacted in accordance with her position. Allowing students to see any weakness was tantamount to raising a white flag. Despite the obvious lie told to her, she was fairly certain Hermione was in the bathroom for reasons other than troll hunting. Finishing off her drink, she decided it was time to have a chat with Hermione. Even with Dumbledore's approval, she had vacillated on offering personal guidance to the girl, but now it seemed necessary.

Breakfast the following day was as good a time as any to carry out the task. Minerva spied Hermione huddled in her usual spot looking like she was trying to be invisible. The uptight girl cringed when Minerva's shadow fell across her plate.

"Miss Granger, I will see you in my office when you are finished here."

"Yes, Professor."

Minerva bustled away, amused by the look of fear in Hermione's eyes.

A hesitant knock heralded Hermione's arrival. Minerva took her time opening the door, taking puckish delight in letting the girl sweat. Stepping aside to allow her pupil entrance, she waved towards the fireplace. "Go take a seat, Miss Granger."

"Professor, I didn't mean to cause so much trouble last night." Hermione began before she even took a step.

"Not to worry, Miss Granger." Minerva placed her hand between the girl's narrow shoulder blades, directing her across the room. "You are not here to be disciplined."

"I…I'm not?"

"No. Tea?" Minerva offered brightly.

"Ummm…yes?"

"Excellent. Have a seat." Minerva pushed the girl gently into the chair.

Minerva kept an eye on her guest while preparing their tea. "Don't bite your fingernails," she admonished gently. Handing Hermione a teacup, Minerva sat in the second chair and cleared her throat.

"Miss Granger, I do not want to rehash last evening's events. I would, however, like to know how you are doing socially. I never see you with any acquaintances. Are you making friends?"

"Oh, yes, Professor. Harry and Ron are my mates." She answered enthusiastically as if they had been friends forever.

"You have befriended Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?" Minerva groaned internally; it was worse than she thought. "Do you think that is wise, considering their penchant for getting into trouble?"

"I like to think I might help them avoid it, actually."

"I dare say you, of all people, are the most likely to accomplish that feat." Minerva felt a tug on her heart from the grin that broke Hermione's frown. "You are aware that as the head of your house, I am here to help you with whatever you may need?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Even if you simply need someone to talk to, you may stop in at any time. We all need advice from time to time. And occasionally someone with more…experience can help us find answers to questions we might not even think to ask."

"I suppose…"

"What I am trying to say, Miss Granger is you can come to me…for anything. You can trust me."

"Ok…"

"Right. Well…is there anything you wish to ask now?"

"Uhm…no?"

"Very well. You may go."

Hermione skipped across the floor but paused at the door. With a hand on the door latch, she turned back to Minerva. "Thank you, Professor."

"You are welcome, Miss Granger."

xxxxx

"I have decided to nominate Miss Granger for Prefect. I expect you will approve this appointment without dispute?" Minerva announced at the end of a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore.

"An excellent choice. She will be a marvelous prefect." Albus agreed readily. "This will certainly improve her confidence with her peers."

"While we are on this subject, I think Mr. Potter would be a good pairing with her to lead their classmates."

"On that, I must disagree." Albus contended. "Before you remove my head from my shoulders Tabby, hear me out. It is evident, after this past year, that his destiny is tied to the very dark wizard who has now returned. We knew this to be a probability before he even came to Hogwarts. With all he must now contend, I feel it best to not foist the demands of prefect on his shoulders."

"Despite the rumors that Skeeter woman spread about him, he has managed to stand tall and prove himself true. He has the respect of his housemates. He is a natural choice."

"Indeed, he is. But, perhaps we can give another the opportunity to thrive. One who could use slight augmentation to his mettle."

"Albus…"

"It will be fine, my dear."

"Who…?"

"Young Mr. Weasley, I think."

"No."

"Yes, I think he will do nicely."

"Albus."

"Tut tut. It will all work out in the end. He will rise to the position. Now, I must be off. Ministry meetings and such…"

xxxxx

The new school year brought too many of Minerva's fears to fruition. The evil machinations behind the changes at the ministry and its overreach into Hogwarts were all smoke and mirrors. Minerva knew that with everyone's attention on the school and the publicized political proceedings from the ministry offices, no one would be aware of the growing threat of Voldemort. Harry Potter was being used on all fronts as a public distraction, and, to Minerva's chagrin that meant Hermione Granger was one degree of separation from being the center of focus for evil.

Minerva tried to keep herself busy with grading homework while she waited for her scheduled appointment to arrive. The old clock on the mantle seemed to tick louder the closer it came to four o'clock. At the top of the hour, as the clock chimed for the third time, there was an assured knock on the office door.

"Come in," Minerva called after clearing her throat.

"Professor," Hermione Granger entered. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Miss Granger. Please, come in."

Minerva sat back in her desk chair, observing the girl as she approached and settled into the seat placed out for her.

Eyeing the pile of papers on Minerva's desk, Hermione playfully quipped, "You'd have less work to do if you stopped assigning so much homework."

"Aye, and then what kind of trouble would you get into if you weren't busy with classwork?"

"Good question. So, what do you need from me?"

"I simply wanted to see how you are doing with your extra responsibilities."

The girl couldn't quell her pride. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and her grin rivaled the sunlight streaming through the window. "Oh, Professor, I am so honored. Thank you for nominating me."

"I dare say you did not have much competition. Now, are any of the students giving you a difficult time of it?"

"No more than usual. And nothing I can't handle."

"How are you doing with the…changes this year?"

"I'm concerned about Harry."

"Mr. Potter? Why?"

"He won't keep his head down. He keeps losing his temper and facing off with Professor Umbridge."

"You haven't had any run-ins with her, have you?" Minerva swallowed the dread that clawed at her throat.

"Not really. She is a horrible woman." Hermione winced as soon as the words were loosed.

Minerva fought the smile threatening to break through. Trying to maintain her stern pretense, she fell back on her clipped stringent accent, "Please be careful, Miss Granger. She is, in this particular situation, very dangerous. She has the full backing of the minister. Don't give her reason to focus on you."

"I won't. At least, not intentionally."

"I want you to remember, I am always here. You can come to me for any reason. If you need assistance with a problem, advice, or just a cup of tea and an ear to listen. My door is always open."

Hermione smiled warmly at the offer. "Thank you, Professor. I'm sure I'll be taking you up on your offer considering I have the Weasley twins to contend with."

"Ah yes, Fred and George. Perhaps we can figure out how to deal with them together." Minerva stood and motioned for Hermione towards the door. Showing the young Gryffindor out, Minerva directed, "I cannot overtly oppose Professor Umbridge. Please tell Harry to try his best to control his temper."

"I will. Thank you."

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger."

xxxxx

Lying in a hospital bed, Minerva felt the reminder of the stunning spells that took her down with every breath. Three days of potions and physical therapy did little to help her recovery or her mood. The past year had successfully proven that their community was indeed cruising headlong into war and the lines were murky, at best. The corruption, fear, and paranoia within the ministry which had been reinforced by the news outlets turned allies into dubious supporters and sometimes enemies. As she was brooding over the situation, Pamona Sprout clomped through her door.

"Start your holidays early, did you?"

"Pamona, what are you doing here?"

"I figured with everything that's been happening, no one bothered to catch you up on events."

"What has happened?"

"Well…After you were bushwhacked, all hell broke loose. There was an incident at the ministry. Apparently, a group of students attempted to steal something and had a violent encounter with some rather high-level Death Eaters."

"Who?"

"Well, rumor has it Bellatrix, and…"

"No. Which students were involved?"

"Your lot, of course, and one of Filius'."

"Miss Granger?"

"Oh, aye. She was in the mix, along with Potter and Weasley, and surprisingly, Longbottom, as well as Weasley's sister and Luna Lovegood."

"Was anyone injured?"

"One doesn't run into a hoard of Death Eaters and walk away unscathed."

"Who…what…?"

"Longbottom got a broken nose. Ginny Weasly broke an ankle. Ronald Weasley was hit with an odd little jinx that made him find the most ridiculous things hysterically funny. He was laughing uproariously at everything. It was really quite amusing…"

"Pamona," Minerva interrupted anxiously. "What of Miss Granger?"

"Oh, well, the lass came up with a number of contusions and an unknown curse."

"She was cursed?"

"Poppy told Filius that it caused a scar like a burn across her chest. There are traces of magic, but diagnostics can't determine if there will be any other after-effects besides the scarring."

"Can we get ahold of the attacker's wand? Perform a priori incantatem? "

"That is what Filius asked," Pamona replied with an obvious note of pride. "However, no wands were found at the scene. The theory is, once rendered incapacitated; their wands were magically tethered to whoever remained at large to effectively eliminate any evidence."

"Is she…?"

"She'll be fine. She's currently in the infirmary at Hogwarts complaining about awful potions and boredom."

Minerva had to smile softly at that appraisal. She could easily picture the young Gryffindor sitting in a hospital bed with arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face. Pamona stayed a few more minutes before Minerva feigned exhaustion and bade her friend farewell. Once alone, she sank into the mattress and worried over everything that had happened over the past year and her part in it all.

Despite her offer of support, Minerva rarely saw Hermione outside of the classroom or dining hall. With so many eyes watching within the school, everyone restricted their social visits, limiting exposure of personal information to the enemy. Unwilling to have her fondness for the girl used against her in any way, the Transfiguration professor kept tabs on her cubs through stealthy tactics. In a time of war, emotional distance was the greatest gift. But was it that distance that had allowed the current events to unfold? If she called Hermione in more frequently, would the girl have shared her secrets? Did Minerva have that level of trust from her star pupil? Or would that have tipped her hand and revealed to the enemy how she favored the girl, making her existence more critical in the conflict?

With fewer answers than questions and anger at herself as well as the entirely insane situation, Minerva pushed herself from the bed, dressed, threw the few things she had with her into her carpetbag, donned her cloak, and grabbed a cane on her way out the door. A harried medi-witch bravely hurried after the imposing witch all the way to the nearest apparition point, begging her not to leave. Minerva turned on her heel, facing off with the poor witch. "I have done all the healing in a bed I can do. Send whatever potion prescriptions to Poppy Pomfrey at Hogwarts. She can damn well manage any further convalescence."

After an enjoyable run-in with Snape on her return, Minerva stumped up to the infirmary. Pushing the door to the dormitory open, she scanned the room before fully entering. Three beds were in use; two against the interior wall next to each other, and one across the way under a window. A steady snore was buzzing from the wall and a girlish voice murmured incoherently from the window. The third bed held the reason for Minerva's visit; Hermione Granger sat up against a pile of pillows studiously perusing a book on ancient runes. The sound of the door latching pulled familiar whisky-brown eyes from the pages.

"Professor!" Hermione whispered excitedly.

"Miss Granger, I am relieved to find you looking so well," Minerva admitted as she sat in a chair left behind by a previous visitor.

"I'm alright, but what about you?"

"I can honestly say I have been better." Minerva wryly answered.

"I thought…"

The hitch in Hermione's voice pressed Minerva to act. Grasping the young woman's hand, she held it firmly and caught her teary eyes with a sympathetic smile. "'Tis fine, lass. I am alive, and will soon again be well. No need to fret."

Attempting to cover her embarrassment over her emotional reaction, Hermione flipped her book over. "I was not confident with my exam. Thought I'd check my answers."

"I doubt you have anything to worry about. You have been at the top of the class all along. I expect you can decipher runes better than I."

"That's kind of you to say."

"An easy truth. Now tell me, how are you really?"

"It hurts. My chest feels like it's on fire. Sometimes it hurts to breathe. Madam Pomfrey is treating the symptoms, but no one knows for certain what the curse is."

"I am sorry I was not here to help you."

"There wasn't anything you could have done."

Hermione's statement told Minerva all she needed to know. Had she been in the school, she would have been kept in the dark about the trio's plans. The trust did not exist. Swallowing the bitterness of that detail she chose to preserve her hope. "Perhaps, in the future, I will be able to."

She held Hermione's eyes with her own, trying to express what her words were falling short of. When she observed tears welling up behind the youngster's lashes, she nodded and pulled back.

"Well, I best continue on. I'm sure I have a mountain of work awaiting my return. Have a relaxing and safe holiday, Miss Granger. I will see you again in the fall."

"You too, Professor. I'm really glad you're ok."

"As am I. Take care."

Minerva limped from the ward, feeling her pain and exhaustion more acutely.