Need You Now
Steam billowed from the engine as the iron beast waited patiently for those heading to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The activity on Platform 9 was chaotic with families bustling about; loading children, trunks, bags, and cages with familiars of all types. It had been years since Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley had boarded the train, but they were still occasionally the recipients of wondrous stares while they stood together watching their own children climb aboard.
Hermione walked along with Ginny and their daughters, Rose and Lily, chatting about the new semester while Ron and Harry were discussing the chances of Gryffindor House winning the Quidditch cup with the boys.
"I don't know why Dad never talks quidditch with me. I'm as good a player as Uncle Harry ever was." Rose muttered irritably.
"Your dad is a lot of things, but a feminist is not one of them," Hermione explained with an eye roll.
"In other words, he's a total prat." Ginny chipped in.
"Ginny…"
"What? It's the truth. He always has been and always will be. I can't believe you ever married him. Never mind staying with him for eighteen years."
"Yeah…well…"
"Mum, we're gonna jump on here." Lily stopped in the middle of the platform and grabbed her mom in a hug. "Don't forget to sign the permission slip for Hogsmeade."
"I won't. As soon as they send it. I promise." Ginny laughed.
"Rose, aren't you going to say goodbye to your father?" Hermione called after her daughter.
"Already did at the house. See ya."
"Well, she isn't growing up too fast," Hermione complained lightly.
"At least she's talking to him again. I wasn't sure she'd ever forgive him for leaving."
"She was angry, but she understood once I explained everything. I'm more concerned that Hugo has been so unmoved by the whole situation. I've never known a fifteen-year-old boy so unaffected by emotional upheaval."
"Especially a Weasley." Ginny laughed.
"Oi, where are the girls?" Ron called as the women caught up to the men again.
"They already boarded to join their friends," Ginny explained.
"Mum, do I really have to find a tutor?"
"Hugo, this is your OWL year. If you want to do well, then I recommend you get a tutor for Transfiguration. But, it's really up to you. I'm not going to force you. Just think about it."
"Alright. I'll think about it."
"Are you going to join James and Albus on the train?"
"James is going with his friends, but I'll probably hang out with Albus. See you for Christmas."
The kids all scrambled onto the train and disappeared into their cars, leaving their parents behind.
"Well, that went better than I expected." Ron quipped.
"What were you expecting?" Ginny questioned.
"Dunno. Maybe some tears."
"This isn't anyone's first year. Why would there be any tears?" Hermione wondered.
"Well, with the divorce and all…"
"Ron, they already lived through the divorce debacle. That's old news. We've been separated for months. They're used to it."
"I know. But I just figured the first year after the divorce…"
"You two want to go for lunch?" Harry cut in, ending the inane discussion.
"I'd love to." Hermione agreed brightly.
"Ummm…yeah…I'd like to but….I'm supposed to meet Heather…" Ron dithered.
"Bring her along," Hermione suggested sincerely.
"Are you sure?"
"Ron, I like Heather. We worked together for a couple of years with Magical Creatures. She's nothing like her sister."
"Lavender wasn't really that bad." Harry defended.
"You're right, Harry. She was just a hormonal teenager when we knew her. And I wouldn't want to speak ill of the dead, but Heather and I got on quite well."
"Geez 'Mione, do I need to worry you'll steal her from me?"
"No chance." Hermione laughed. "Blondes aren't my type."
xxXxx
Hermione was working in her study when she was interrupted by an owl at her window. The missive was short and direct:
Dear Mrs. Weasley,
Your presence would be appreciated for a teacher/parent conference on Thursday next at 2:00 pm. Please respond if you will be unable to attend.
Regards,
Headmistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
It wasn't five minutes later that Ron rang on her mobile. "Did you get a summons to Hogwarts?"
"I just did. Is this something new they're trying out?"
"Dunno. Do you think we really both need to go?"
"Ron…"
"It's just Thursday is my inventory meeting."
"I think our kids are more important than whizbangs. George can cover, I'm sure."
"Yeah, but I made him cover last month."
"I don't even want to know why." Hermione pulled at the ends of her ponytail in frustration.
"Yeah…well…can you do this?"
"Fine. Whatever. But I am not making any excuses for you.''
"Thanks 'Mione. I appreciate it."
"I'll let you know if you miss anything important."
The prescribed Thursday arrived and Hermione was standing at the iron gates at 1:50 waiting for the figure in dark teacher's robes making their way down the dirt path. Hermione stepped back in reflex when the unknown man arrived at the entry. Easily two meters tall, rail thin, and paler than any Malfoy she had ever met, the mysterious individual caused an uneasy tingle of nerves to course up Hermione's spine.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Weasley. Headmistress McGonagall requested I escort you in. I am Malachai Albrecht, caretaker of Hogwarts. If you will follow me…"
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Albrecht. How long have you been at Hogwarts?"
"I was hired in the year 2000."
There was no further conversation on the walk to the castle. When the large oak doors swung open, Filius Flitwick was waiting just inside the entry.
"Mrs. Weasley, how lovely to see you again. It's been a while since we last had a chance to chat. I'll take her from here, Malachai, thank you."
"Professor." Hermione greeted. "Am I here for a social visit?"
"Alas, not. But, there are no rules that stipulate we cannot be cordial outside a meeting."
"How are you, Filius?" Hermione fell in step alongside the diminutive man.
"I am quite well. And you?" Filius asked over his shoulder as he led her towards McGonagall's office.
"I'm well, although a little confused. I've never been called in for a conference before. Can you give me a hint of what to expect?"
"Nothing to worry about, my dear. Just a discussion about the new school year."
"Have things changed so much from last year?"
"Some. Mostly teachers. There's been a bit of a turnover. We've been meeting with all the parents but started with those new to the school to help them assimilate more easily. People like you and Mr. Weasley who are alumni and have children in higher grades do not need more than a catch-up."
"Why the formal meeting?"
"Easier for you to meet the teachers your children will be working under and to relay any questions or concerns regarding the curricula."
"What about the muggle parents?"
"We go to them, of course."
"As an entire troupe?"
"Oh no…" Filius chuckled. "Wouldn't that be a sight? No, no…we go in pairs in staggered visits. Don't want to overwhelm the parents or the neighbors. Ah, here we are. After you." Filus stepped aside to admit Hermione.
Hermione was surprised to be at an unassuming door and not in front of the stone gargoyle. "Did the headmistress move her office?"
"No, no. She asked Hogwarts to lose the pretentious frippery of the old entry."
"Huh."
The door was pulled open and Hermione stepped into a large room lit with natural light pouring through the large windows on either side. In the center stood a huge circular conference table, surrounded by a host of teachers both familiar and unknown. Everyone's attention was redirected at the sound of a chair scraping against slate as Headmistress McGonagall stood.
"Mrs. Weasley, thank you for making the effort to attend."
"Of course, Headmistress. I do try to be available for anything that has to do with my children. And, if I may, one point of interest?"
"Yes?"
"I go by Granger…always have."
"My apologies, Ms. Granger, an honest mistake. Would you care to join us?"
Hermione accepted the chair Filius had pulled out for her. "So, why am I here?"
"Ms. Granger," Aurora Sinistra began, "As an alumnus of Hogwarts, you are well aware of the type of classwork we utilize in our program. You are here today primarily to meet the new professors and to get answers to any questions you may have."
"Right. Let's do it."
The meeting lasted just over an hour. All the lesson plans presented were straightforward and did not raise any concerns. Hermione was introduced to only two new instructors; Massimo Giordano, the new transfiguration professor, and Lin Xi, the potions instructor. As everyone began to file out of the office, the headmistress caught Hermione.
"Ms. Granger, may I have a word?"
"Of course. Is there a problem?"
Minerva waited until everyone cleared the room and the door closed behind the last exiting robe. "I don't care to pry into the personal lives of students' families, however, considering you pulled your children from school early last semester, I wanted to discuss their standing."
"Is Rose or Hugo experiencing difficulty this term? Neither has said anything to me."
"Rose is excelling in all of her classes. In fact, I daresay she could sit her NEWTs now and pass with flying colors."
"And Hugo?"
"Has he been having a hard time with everything going on at home?"
"Everything…? Do you mean the divorce?"
Minerva ducked her head in discomfort. "I do apologize, Ms. Granger, but he is having some issues with anger management and he has been acting out against some of the younger students."
"Are you telling me my son is acting the bully?" Hermione bristled at the idea.
"He is spending more than his fair share of time in detention."
"I find this hard to believe."
"I had hoped Mr. Weasley could attend today. I think his involvement would be beneficial."
"Ron is involved. Despite everything, he has been a wonderful father." Hermione heatedly defended her ex.
"I do not doubt that."
Hermione stepped up to a wall of windows and took in the view of the grounds. She felt Minerva arrive at her shoulder but did not acknowledge her presence. After a few moments of silent contemplation, Hermione spoke.
"Hugo was angry and hurt when we first told him. His reaction was the reason we pulled them both from school early. We spent most of the summer focusing more on his needs than the actual divorce. Ron and I are still friends. We're better as friends, actually, which I think is difficult for Hugo to understand. We've been getting along and haven't had a single fight since we decided to break up. I worry Hugo doesn't understand that it is because we are apart and that is probably very confusing for him."
Minerva did not respond but waited for Hermione to work out whatever was in her head.
"Is it possible for me to speak with Hugo before I leave?"
"Of course. He will be finished with Potions in ten minutes if you don't mind waiting."
"He hasn't injured anyone, has he?"
"No permanent damage." Minerva allowed an amused smirk.
"Bloody hell."
"If you'll excuse me, I will bring Hugo here so you may have some privacy."
"Thank you."
Hermione waited impatiently, pacing around the room and distractedly noticing the changes Minerva had made in the Head's office.
Minerva soon returned with Hugo tagging at her heels. Standing aside, she allowed the young man to enter the office and then backed out."Take all the time you need, Ms. Granger."
"Thank you, Headmistress."
Once the door closed, Hermione turned toward her son. "You're fighting with other students now, Hugo?"
"In defense of your honor." he threw back petulantly.
"That is not your responsibility."
"Whatever."
"And I will not tolerate insolence." Hermione glared angrily at the boy who so strongly resembled his father. Preceding more gently she inquired, "What's going on Hugo? You've never been one for violence."
"I can't help it. They were talking shite about you."
"I do not need protection from the remarks of school children."
"Well, I don't need some little git saying my mum is a mudblood whore."
Hermione stared speechlessly at Hugo. Her right hand reflexively rubbed at the burning itch that tingled in her left forearm.
"Hugo," Hermione's voice quavered. "It takes an exceptional strength of character to ignore vitriolic slights. I know you have that strength. As my son, and as your father's son, you have that strength. When you leave this room, I expect you to ignore those small-minded individuals who rely on gossip to form their uneducated opinions of others. Ignore them and walk tall with self-respect. Although I appreciate the sentiment, neither I nor your father need you to fight for us. We both expect more from you. We raised you better than this. And if you are in need of an outlet for your anger, challenge your sister to a duel."
"Rose? No way. She'd kick my arse."
"Maybe. I think you might be surprised. Either way, stop fighting and bullying others."
"Fine."
"I don't want to be called into the headmistress' office again. This has been quite embarrassing."
"Can I go now?"
"In a minute," Hermione recalled their last conversation at the train station. "How are you doing with Transfiguration this term?"
"Better than I thought I would. Missy Penderhurst is helping me out. I have a hard time understanding the way Professor Giordano explains things. Missy is great at breaking everything down so that I get it."
"But potions is still your thing?"
"Oh yeah." Hugo grinned.
"Alright. Let your dad or me know if you need anything. And not just money."
"I promise."
"Good." Hermione nodded her head in agreement. "Now give me a hug."
Hugo eagerly complied, wrapping his mum in a tight embrace. He was shoved roughly away after getting a sloppy kiss planted on his cheek.
"Go on then. Be the star student I know you can be."
"See ya."
Hermione smiled wistfully as her boy slammed out of the office. Gathering her things, she was about to leave when Minerva pushed through the door.
"Oh. I apologize. I thought you were already gone."
"Just leaving now. Thank you, Headmistress."
"Hermione…" the tawny-haired witch froze, her back stiffening at the sound of her name from the headmistress' lips. "Ms. Granger…" Minerva relented. "Would it be unwelcomed for me to ask how you are doing?"
Without facing the older witch, Hermione questioned, "In what capacity exactly are you asking?"
"As a friend?" Minerva stepped closer.
Hermione glanced sideways at the dark witch, gauging her. "I think I would like that…as a friend. And, as a friend, I would tell you I am mostly alright."
"Mostly?"
"I have moments and occasional days that I am not alright. But overall, I am doing well. As you, in the guise of a friend might imagine."
"Is there anything you need?"
Hermione faced Minerva, studying the cool green eyes watching her. "There are many things I need."
"Anything I can supply?"
"Are you honestly offering friendship?"
"Aye. Wholeheartedly."
"Well then, there is nothing else I need."
Hermione felt warm fingers wrap lightly around her wrist. Pulling away, she drew her cloak around her shoulders and headed for the door. "I need to get back to work. Thank you for informing me of Hugo's issues. I don't think he'll be a problem anymore. But please let me know if anything comes up."
"Of course."
"Goodbye, Headmistress."
xxXxx
Hermione dropped her heavy cloak on the floor, followed by her bag and articles of clothing as she staggered tiredly through the house towards the washroom. She had an hour before Ron arrived for their planned dinner and discussion. She had agreed to deal with the Hogwarts situation if he showed up with takeaway the following night for a debriefing. She was going to use the time to enjoy a hot soak to release the tension she had been carrying for the past 27 hours.
By the time Ron knocked on the front door, Hermione had indulged in a bath, a drink, and a good cry.
"Why is it takeaway for you is always fish and chips?"
"What else would you takeaway?"
Hermione stared across the table at the man who had been a part of her life for more than a quarter of a century and remembered why they had to divorce. "Nearly anything you can think of," she answered.
"But what would you want?"
"Indian, Chinese, Thai, Greek, Italian…"
"Alright, alright. Next time you choose." He plated her food and slid the dish across the table. "So, what happened?"
Chewing reflectively on a chip, Hermione answered distractedly, "Your son has been playing the bully."
"What?!"
"Hugo has been having some issues with a few kids. Apparently, there have been a couple of fights. No one was seriously hurt, but Hugo has been spending his weekends in detention."
"That's not like him."
"Divorce isn't like him. He's having a tough time. Maybe you can go up and see him. Have a talk. You left it to me to tell him about the divorce…"
"Because you're the one who wanted it."
"I may have instigated it, but you know damn well you wanted it too."
"What did he say to you?" Ron asked around a mouthful of cod.
"He said he was defending my honor."
"Of course he was."
"I just think it might be a good idea for you to speak with him. Let him know how you feel about our breakup. And not that it was all me. Let him know you weren't okay with us and that we're better now. Tell him why you are happier with Heather than with me. And that he does not need to defend me or take care of me."
"Yeah. OK. I can do that. You got any beer?" Ron asked, halfway to the pantry.
"I have a muggle stout, not butterbeer."
"That'll do. Want one?"
"Yes, please."
After Ron left, Hermione retired to her sitting room, reclining on the couch with a book she soon ignored, she pondered her visit to Hogwarts. It had been sixteen years since she had any interaction with Minerva McGonagall. Seeing her again stirred up a tempest of emotions long forgotten. The damn woman hadn't aged a day. She looked the same, if not better than their last time together. The touch of her fingers had opened a door long locked, flooding Hermione with a rush of memories. Dwelling on them now, Hermione was inundated with images of Minerva McGonagall as a teacher, mentor, friend, and one-time lover. The last caused heat to erupt across her skin and icy cold to encircle her heart.
Until now, Hermione had been able to avoid Minerva and ignore the memories. Occasionally, she would suffer a haunting dream of the one time they had succumbed to mutual desire but would chase the vision away with a chapter or two of some dry professional journal. Now, the image filled her mind vividly; the colors, the physicality, and the feelings. Disregarding her novel and the copy of Transfiguration Today on the coffee table, Hermione helped herself to a double whisky and a self-indulgent pity party.
It was just after one a.m. when Hermione arrived with a soft snap of ozone at Hogwarts' front gate. Laying a palm against the metal, she focused her thoughts on the tall dark witch responsible for her midnight journey. It was not long before she saw a black silhouette moving rapidly along the pathway.
" …what on earth…?"
"Hey. Can we talk?" Hermione requested with a voice thick from drink.
"Would not another time be more appropriate?" Minerva eyed the younger witch skeptically.
"Probably…" Hermione admitted. "But, I'm here, so…"
"Very well. Come in." Minerva touched the gate and it swung open easily.
No words were spoken as the pair made their way back to the castle. Minerva led Hermione past her office door, recognizing the younger woman had not traveled across the country for usual business, and stopped at what appeared to be a solid stone wall. Placing her hand against the cold stone, the wall abruptly slid open, revealing a hidden entry to her private chambers.
"Please, have a seat." Minerva directed over her shoulder while she distractedly waved a fire into existence in the darkened hearth and flung her cloak from her shoulders to hang on a wall peg. Returning to her late-night guest she offered, "Tea?"
"Not for me." Hermione declined from her position standing in front of the fireplace, her arms crossed protectively over her chest.
"Right, well then, to what do I owe this impromptu visit?" Minerva dropped into a seat in resignation.
"Do you ever think about me?" Hermione asked meekly.
"Do I…?"
"Particularly, that night?"
"Ah." Minerva gulped with awareness of the direction they were going.
"Do you ever wonder what could have been if I hadn't gone back to him?"
Minerva pushed herself out of the chair and dug a bottle from the back of a cabinet, preferring to be as drunk as Hermione for this conversation. After slamming back the first pour, she returned to her seat with the bottle and two glasses, offering one to Hermione.
"What happened? Why are you here now?"
"You touched me." Hermione accepted the glass and perched on the edge of the second chair.
"I'm sorry?"
"The other day. You touched my hand. I was sitting at home tonight and everything came back?"
"Everything?"
"I remembered everything about you. The day you delivered my enrollment letter, the first night we arrived at Hogwarts and you were there waiting for us, every moment at school; your frustration with me and the boys, the way you ignored how I was always staring while trying to memorize your face. Your fear and anger when I left after my sixth year. Everything."
"And now?"
"You haven't answered my question."
Minerva finished her whisky and poured a third. Eyeing Hermione warily she sighed in exasperation and admitted, "On nights like this, when the whisky flows a little more freely, I can think of nothing else."
Hermione cocked her head to the side and challenged, "Is that all?"
Minerva raised an eyebrow at her cheekiness. "It is possible, that nights like this occur more often than not."
They fell into silence as the bottled spirit heated their blood and muddled their defenses.
"Why are you here, Hermione?" Minerva's voice was barely more than a whisper.
"I want…I need to know…if there might be a chance…"
"It has been sixteen years," Minerva emphasized sharply.
"I know."
"And you come here in the middle of the night to profess undying love?"
The bitterness behind the sarcasm cut Hermione deeply. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over her lashes. "I…Can you forgive me?"
"What, exactly, are you asking forgiveness for? Your decision, if nothing else, produced a wonderful, charming child."
"I'm apologizing for hurting you. I never meant…"
"Hermione, I am a grown woman. I participated as a consenting adult with my eyes fully open."
"But, it wasn't fair to shut you out of my life completely…"
"It is, I believe, what I stipulated at the time. We needed to stay away from one another."
"I had to compartmentalize you in my mind. I locked you away and tried desperately to forget you. All these years, I managed to avoid even talking about you. Then you summoned me for that silly parent/teacher conference and you just had to touch me." Hermione slid to the floor on her knees and crawled closer to Minerva's chair. "I was under control until then. Even with your profession of friendship, I was holding it together." She placed her hands over Minerva's knees. "I made a mistake, Min. I never should have taken Ron back. I spent the last sixteen years holding a marriage together through guilt. I felt guilty breaking up Rose's family. It was guilty sex that created Hugo and I felt too guilty to bring him into a world as a single mother. I felt guilty over the idea of separating Ron from his children. I felt too much guilt to allow the memories of you to come forth." Hermione reached for and gently held Minerva's hands. "But seeing you, hearing your voice, and feeling your fingers on me…My need for you and what you mean to me has taken over."
"Hermione…"
Whisky-warmed lips brushed across cool knuckles. "I need you back in my life, Min."
"Do you even know what you are asking?"
Hermione wriggled off the floor and onto Minerva's lap, her knees trapping Minerva's thighs. "Yes. I need you…now." Hermione wrapped her hands around Minerva's neck and wove her fingers into ebony tresses.
"Only now?" Minerva's hands caught Hermione's hips, keeping her from escaping.
"And forever."
"I will accept nothing less."
"You forgive me?" Hermione whispered against soft lips.
"Always."
xxxXxxx
Hermione rocked the chair slowly to keep the baby held against her breast from crying. She glanced up at the soft touch of a warm hand at the nape of her neck. "She's finally asleep," she whispered through the dark,
"Shall I take her?"
"Not yet. I'm enjoying this."
"Do you regret not having another child?"
"No. It's completely selfish of me, but I never wanted to have to share you."
Soft green eyes sparkled in amusement at the confession. "When is Rose due back?"
"She and Emil are taking an extra day after the conference to enjoy the relaxation."
"So, Sunday?"
Hermione smiled kindly. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Mind? No, not at all. I enjoy having the wee lass. It breaks up the monotony of my life with my amorous wife."
Hermione's laughter caused baby Violet to shift in annoyance.
"Your granddaughter does not appreciate your sense of humor." Minerva chuckled.
"She doesn't appreciate your sarcasm."
"That may be. But in truth, I do not appreciate a week of obligatory abstinence. Why is it we are forced into sexual lockdown whenever we babysit?"
"We are not forced. It just feels inappropriate with a baby in the house."
"Inappropriate? You mean this feels inappropriate?" Minerva whispered, her lips ghosting across the back of Hermione's neck, causing a chill to run down her spine.
"Min…"
"Or maybe this is inappropriate?" she slid a warm hand down Hermione's front, coming to rest between the baby and a full breast being used as a pillow.
Hermione arched into the heat against her breast. "Oh…gods…" she breathed out.
"Or maybe this….?" Minerva slid her free hand under Hermione's robe, her fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin of a slightly rounded belly as her lips sucked suggestively under a reddening ear.
"Minerva McGonagall…stop this instant. This is beyond inappropriate." Hermione hissed.
Minerva gently squeezed the flesh under her fingers and whispered hoarsely against Hermione's ear. "Put her to bed and join me in our room."
"I'll be there in two minutes."