More than she allows (English version)

by TeamSharma

Summary:

Since she left school Hermione has tried everything to avoid Minerva McGonagall, until a necessary teacher training eventually forces her to return to Hogwarts. But how is she supposed to work with the woman she’s secretly been in love with for years?

Notes:

A few months ago somebody asked me to put titles on my chapters to make things easier for the reader. Unfortunately, I’m really bad at giving titles, so I decided to also start each chapter with a quote. To make it more coherent, all quotes are adapted from the same pop band (Element of Crime), including the story’s title. Most quotes rhyme in German and I’m aware that they might sound a bit weird in English.
I wouldn’t post the English version of a story without a native speaking beta reader, so I’m very grateful to Ronam for volunteering although she’s very busy at the moment. Thank you, Ronam!

Chapter 1: Confession

Chapter 1: Confession

 

I’m always somewhere where you are not
which won’t be Hogwarts ever again.
It’s nice when it stops hurting
and to be somewhere where you’ve never been.
(based on Element of Crime: ”Delmenhorst“)

 

August 2006

 

It was a hot, sunny, summer day in August and the best weather for a wild child’s birthday party in the backyard. Molly and Arthur Weasley had insisted on decorating the Burrow for their granddaughter themselves, and their son, George, had contributed some highlights from his joke shop to the festive decoration. Magic garlands and colorful balloons with photos from famous Quidditch players hung everywhere in the fruit trees, and a big tent had been built in the middle of the yard where the adults sought protection from the sun. A ginger-haired girl with long tresses was running through the bushes, a broomstick in her hand and followed by a bunch of hooting children.

Her parents, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, stood on the patio next to the tent, observing the lively happening in the yard. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to give Rose a broom on her sixth birthday,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “She’s still too young to evaluate risks properly.”

“That’s why it’s high time she learns it.“ Ron handed Hermione a glass of cooled pumpkin juice. “I was already seven years old when I got my first broom and I swore to myself that I would never do that to my own child.”

Hermione reached for the cool juice. She had just returned to the patio after taking their youngest child, Hugo, to bed. He hadn’t wanted to leave the party and she had sung lullabies to him again and again while sitting on his bed. Hermione’s throat felt sore by the time her son had finally fallen asleep.

“Of course you thought it was unfair as a child. Every kid would think that.” Hermione took another gulp, closing her eyes in appreciation as the cool juice soothed her throat. “But I’m sure Molly and Arthur did the right thing. They already had plenty of experience with your older siblings.”

”Don’t spoil all the fun for Rose,” Ron warned her angrily. “You’re the wrong person to teach her flying anyway. I’d rather do it myself.”

“Just because flying isn’t my favorite pastime doesn’t mean that I couldn’t teach her,” Hermione objected, slightly offended. “But well, if you insist, then do it. In Australia, children aren’t allowed to sit on a broomstick before their 10th birthday anyway.”

“Don’t start that again, Hermione.” Ron rolled his eyes. “No way will you move to Australia with the kids, just for your stupid teacher training. I won’t allow it.”

“You’re not in the position to forbid me anything, Ron.” As a precaution, Hermione put her glass onto one of the round bar tables before she ended up throwing it at the wall in a rage. This was about her future after all, not about his.

“Oh, you bet I am,” he corrected her with a warning undertone. “We have joined custody of Rose and Hugo, and there’s no way I won’t see my children for a whole year.”

Sighing, Hermione ran her fingers through her brown hair as several guests turned their heads towards them. She had discussed the issue with Ron over and over again, but he was as stubborn as an old mule. He refused to take the children but didn’t want her to take them with her to Australia either. Since their divorce the kids were at his place only on the weekends, and he often canceled even these few appointments when he was needed at the ministry or had an away game in Quidditch somewhere.

“Only you can come up with such a moronic idea,” Ron scolded angrily. “Australia of all countries!”

“My parents liked it there, and our children wouldn’t even need to learn a new language.” Hermione tried for a matter-of-fact tone so that their conversation wouldn’t end up in an open argument, as it had often been the case lately. “I need to do my teacher traineeship somewhere, or I won’t get a degree in Transfiguration or in Charms. My time at university would be a complete waste!”

“Why do you need to graduate anyway?“ Ron shook his head uncomprehendingly. “You don’t need a degree to work at the ministry. As soon as Kingsley Shacklebolt reads your application he’ll roll out the red carpet for you. Nobody cares about your graduation!”

“The ministry is an administration, Ron. You know quite well that the recruitment process is based on strict standards and every applicant has to fulfill certain criteria.” Hermione bit on her lower lip to keep herself from adding an inappropriate remark. In the last seven years it had always been about Ron’s needs, but now, just for once, it was about her own.

When she had went to university, she had dreamed of teaching at a school in Australia one day, as far away from England as possible. But when she got pregnant with Rose those plans had changed, and Hermione had seriously considered switching from teacher training to general study. A teacher’s career in England had been the last thing she wanted, but her course of studies had a reputation of being more thorough and higher quality than the general study of a subject. Besides, a switch would have cost her at least two terms.

So, in the end, she had decided to finish what she had started, particularly since her choice wouldn’t stand in the way of a career at the ministry. The big disadvantage was, however, that the graduation demanded a teacher training of each subject, and Hermione hadn’t studied all these years to now fail at the last hurdle. On the other hand, she knew all too well that Ron could enforce his rights as a father, thwarting her plans.

“And how about Beauxbatons?“ Hermione decided for a change of strategy. “France would be close enough for apparating.“

Ron looked at her as if she had suggested moving to the Vatican. “Over my dead body,” he said decisively. “My children stay where they are. You either do your teacher training at Hogwarts, or not at all.“

“Ron, I’ve already told you…”

“Hermione, that’s ridiculous!“ Ron lowered his voice when his mother shot them a warning glance. “Maybe some universities appreciate it when their students don’t do their training at their former school,” he hissed. “But these are special circumstances. Besides, McGonagall would hire you right away if you asked her.”

Hermione opened her mouth to contradict him, but then decided against it. They had already had this discussion multiple times, and much to Hermione’s dismay, Ron was indeed right when he claimed that many students finished their training at their former school. Hermione’s point that doing it abroad would be better for her career didn’t count in Ron’s eyes, and she couldn’t even blame him for that. But what could she say to convince him? Considering, she would never be able to tell him the real reason for her Australia plans.

How was she supposed to explain to him that she had been avoiding Hogwarts’ Headmistress for years? What kind of reason was she supposed to offer, considering she had always gotten along swimmingly with the Transfiguration professor during her schooldays? Rod had no idea that at every event or party they had gone to over the last few years, Hermione had managed to always be where the Headmistress wasn’t.

Hermione darted an envious glance at Ginny and Harry, who held hands while intently watching their three children play. After all these years, they still looked as much in love as on their wedding day, and Hermione wished she could have been a better wife for Ron. They had been like oil and water from the start, and in the long run their relationship hadn’t withstood their permanent arguments. Even though they complemented each other in many ways, in the end they hadn’t had enough in common to meet the challenges of a sustainable relationship. Gradually, they had drifted apart, until they had eventually only gotten on each other’s nerves.

To Hermione’s relief, she’s gotten along better with Ron lately, and they were even on the way to getting their friendship back. But as far as her traineeship was concerned, Ron wouldn’t accommodate her one bit. And if he wasn’t ready to compromise, Hermione had only two options left: She wouldn’t graduate in either of her subjects or she would have to finish her teacher training at Hogwarts – supervised by the woman she had never wanted to see again.

Seven years ago, she had vowed to herself that she would leave Hogwarts behind once and for all. The school had felt more like home than her own parents’ house and was still the place she missed more painfully than any other. But her decision had been the only way to look ahead and to build a new life. Far away from the longings that would never become real. Far away from the misery that had threatened to paralyze everything back then.

Hermione could only shake her head about this ironic twist of fate. No matter what you’re trying to run away from, someday it will come back to you. “All right, then…,” she said reluctantly. “I will send McGonagall an owl with my application.” She raised her hand as Ron tried to interrupt her. “But that doesn’t mean she will accept me.“

“Of course, she will!“ Ron lustily bit into a half bitten piece of apple pie that his daughter had given him. “Believe me, you won’t regret it.”

 

* * *

 

A week later, Hermione stood in front of the door of Hogwarts’ Headmistress, her heart palpitating with fear. Over the last three days she had worked out quite thoroughly what she wanted to say, but on the short way from the gargoyle up to the Headmistress’s office she had forgotten every single word. Even when she hesitatingly knocked at the heavy wooden door, her head was still empty and with every passing second, the panic inside her was rising higher.

”Come in!“ she heard a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

There was no way back now and Hermione pushed the door handle down, holding her breath. Immediately, she was greeted by the faint scent of rose oil that she still remembered from her schooldays. Back then it had smelled like that in Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration classroom and immediately memories from bygone school lessons flashed through Hermione’s mind.

The midday sun sent a warm light into the Headmistress’s office and made the golden spines of the books glimmer mysteriously. The Headmistress’s green robe shimmered in the sun too, and Hermione swallowed when she spotted the tall frame of her former Head of Gryffindor. Professor McGonagall sat behind the massive desk that once had been owned by Albus Dumbledore, apparently doing her correspondence.

She raised her head when she saw Hermione enter and looked kindly at her through her square glasses. “Miss Granger, how nice to see you,” she said with a smile. “May I offer you a cup of tea?”

“Yes, thank you.” Hermione nervously took off her cloak and followed the Headmistress to a round table with two red cushioned chairs. Professor McGonagall didn’t seem to have aged one day over the last seven years, and even though Hermione knew about a special gene that granted some witches near biblical age, she was still amazed all over again each time she saw her. Back in Hermione’s schooldays McGonagall had rather looked like a forty year old, and Hermione had found out only by inquiries that the Headmistress must have already been 56 when she matriculated. There were still almost no greys in her thick, dark hair which was tied in the typical bun, and even her pale skin seemed soft and almost without any wrinkles.

“Please, take a seat, Miss Granger.“ Professor McGonagall pointed at two chairs and let Hermione choose where to sit. Then she sat down in the other chair and poured Hermione and herself a cup of tea. “Please feel free to look around,” she prompted Hermione as she noticed her admiring look at the full bookshelves. “I’m sure you remember this room a bit differently.”

The playful, round room that had been Albus Dumbledore’s office was indeed almost unrecognizable. Countless bookshelves on the walls now dominated the room and Hermione immediately spotted some specialist books she had been searching for endlessly. On the opposite wall, there were two armchairs facing a fireplace that would create a wonderful, warm atmosphere in the winter.

“I have to admit that your request was quite a surprise,” Professor McGonagall interrupted Hermione’s thoughts. “I assumed you’d rather move to France or Australia.”

Hermione instinctively reached for her teacup and cursed under her breath as she felt her hand trembling. She had wished so much she would radiate control and calm in this situation. Instead, she was as nervous as a first-year and undoubtedly the Headmistress had noticed her tension. “I had actually thought about that,” she said, relieved that her voice sounded firmer than she had feared. “But Ron wanted both of us to be close to the children.”

Professor McGonagall nodded sympathetically. “I’ve heard of your divorce.“ She opened a box with cookies and put it on the table in front of Hermione. Immediately, a waft of ginger reached Hermione’s nostrils but she was much too nervous to even think of taking a bite. “Certainly it’s not an easy time for you and your family,” Professor McGonagall added while spreading Hermione’s application documents on the table with a wave of her wand. “How old are your children now?”

“Rose is six, and Hugo’s four years old.“ Hermione cast a nervous glance at the documents, wondering what had gone through the Headmistress’s mind while reading them. “Hugo is still too little to really understand our separation, but Rose really suffered because of it.” She took another sip of tea to force back the bad memories of the last months. “Fortunately, Rose seems to be recovering, gradually,” she explained. “Thus, it’s the right time to finish my teacher training.”

“So you want to do both of your trainings here at Hogwarts?“ Professor McGonagall took off her glasses and put them next to her teacup. She seemed to be settling in for a longer conversation and Hermione leaned back a little. “Why didn’t you do your first training right after your exams in Charms, instead of starting to study a new subject?”

Hermione felt herself blushing. At the time, she had just as little idea of where to do her teacher training as now, so she had avoided making any decision and started studying Transfiguration as well – with the result that she now had to do a six month teacher training for each subject. “I did it because of the children,” she responded quickly. “I was pregnant with Hugo at that time, and studying a new subject seemed more manageable than starting the teacher training at a school.”

“I see.“ Professor McGonagall looked at her attentively, and Hermione wasn’t sure if she really bought her excuse. At least it was true that the kids had played a part in Hermione’s decision. “I’ve seen your certificates, and I’m not surprised to see you got an Outstanding in both subjects,” Professor McGonagall remarked, appreciatively.

“Thank you.” Hermione self-consciously looked at her shoes. “I had outstanding teachers here,” she said, blushing. “So I could build on that.”

“I’m pleased you see it that way.” Professor McGonagall raised her teacup in her direction. “And I think it’s time we go without the formalities. You’ve probably noticed that our teachers are on a first-name basis as long as no students are around.” She offered Hermione her hand. “Minerva.”

”Her…mione,“ she stuttered as she took Minerva McGonagall’s hand. Promptly, a sugar bowl fell over that Hermione must have grazed with her sleeve. She shyly turned it back up, relieved that it hadn’t been broken. Involuntarily, she thought of the day fourteen years ago when the Professor had knocked at the Grangers’ door to tell them that their daughter was a witch. That day, she had also offered Hermione her hand, and Hermione had stuttered her name as well. She had never met a person like Minerva McGonagall before, and wherever this woman was teaching, Hermione had wanted to follow her.

Wasn’t it strange that she had never really touched Hermione again during the following schoolyears? She had often watched Professor McGonagall patting a student’s shoulder to encourage them or stroking a student’s back to comfort them. She had never done this with Hermione, maybe because she hadn’t thought she needed it. And yet there hadn’t been anyone at the entire school who had longed for it more eagerly than Hermione Granger.

“You probably know the procedure, Hermione.“ Minerva McGonagall leaned back in her chair. “We’ll have to discuss your application among the staff, but your grades don’t give us any reason to decline your request. Besides, many professors still know you from your schooldays and will be glad to have you here.”

“Thank you very much, Prof… Minerva.“ Hermione cautiously reached for a cookie. Would the professor really make it so easy for her? Didn’t she have any objections? Though it was exactly what Hermione had wanted, another part of her had secretly wished her application would be rejected.

“However, there’s one essential issue to clarify first.” Minerva McGonagall stood up and crossed the room. She stopped at the window, her face serious and thoughtful, and Hermione’s heart immediately started to beat anxiously in her chest. Of course, there was a hitch somewhere, and Hermione already knew what would come next.

“I’d really like to have you here at Hogwarts, Hermione,“ Minerva said, folding her hands in front of her body. “There’s no doubt you would be a great asset to our school.” She watched Hermione carefully. “But you’re certainly aware that you would also have to collaborate well with me as Headmistress.”

Hermione blushed furiously. “Yes, of course,“ she affirmed quickly. The teacup in her hand started to vibrate strangely and Hermione carefully put it back on the table.

“I’d like to be honest with you.” Without the glasses, Minerva’s glance was even more piercing than usual and Hermione didn’t have a chance to evade her green eyes. “Every student has the right, even the duty, to take their own path when they leave Hogwarts. It’s often a step of maturation and emancipation, not only from their parents, but from their teachers and their school as well. Sometimes I never hear from a former student again, they’re just happy to leave that time behind, and that’s good and rightly so. You have to be able to let go as a teacher…”

Minerva interrupted herself, obviously not quite sure how to proceed. “But I wouldn’t have expected such a behavior from you, Hermione,” she said eventually. “I’ve asked myself time and time again if I did anything wrong. I racked my brain about what I might have done to push you away or hurt you so much that you felt the need to avoid me at all costs since you’ve left school. You couldn’t even say ‘hello’ to me when we attended the same event, and now you’re sending me this application as if nothing has happened. But I can tell you would have preferred Beauxbatons or to go to Australia if Mr. Weasley had agreed to it.”

Hermione looked at her hands, futilely fumbling in her brain for a convincing response. What was she supposed to say to that? Even though Minerva spoke calmly and matter-of-factly, Hermione could hear in every syllable how much she had disappointed her former teacher. Minerva McGonagall of all people, the one person who had mattered to her more than anyone else.

“I’m not very popular among the students,“ Minerva continued without waiting for Hermione’s response. “I’m aware that some boys and girls scoff at me, claiming I’d be embittered and emotionless. I can live with that. It’s the price I have to pay for the teaching style I deemed most effective and safest for the students.” With an almost unnoticeable move of her wand she made the tea set vanish. “But as far as you’re concerned, I’ve always thought we had gotten along very well and I don’t understand why you suddenly couldn’t bear my presence anymore. You’ve never given me a chance to understand that, let alone to change it.”

Hermione’s knees felt like jelly when she hesitatingly stood up and joined Minerva at the window. Why on earth had she given in to Ron and applied at Hogwarts? Half of an hour had been enough to undo all the walls she had built around herself. One single look into the eyes of the woman next to her had been enough to realize that nothing, nothing at all, had changed.

And now she was standing next to the person who she couldn’t stop loving, and who obviously was convinced that she hated her. How was she supposed to work here for a year? How could she have believed even for a second this could actually go well? “You didn’t do anything wrong, Minerva,” she said quietly. “And nothing happened either. I’m sorry I’ve given you that impression.”

Minerva shook her head. “I must have done something. There has to be a reason why you’ve been avoiding me all these years.”

“Yes, there is one.“ Hermione let her gaze wander over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest. How often had she roamed the area with Hagrid, Harry, and Ron. This school held so many memories and Hermione had denied herself all of them, had locked them up like a badly-worn piece of clothing, simply so she wouldn’t feel what she was feeling now.

Minerva seemed to wait for Hermione to elaborate on her remark. When that didn’t happen she cleared her throat and stepped closer. “Usually I’m not the one to push people,” she explained with obvious discomfort. “But if we are to work together for a year we need to start off honestly, Hermione.”

“I know.“ Hermione nodded, deeply ashamed. “I’m sorry for my impossible behavior. You’ve always supported me and what I did wasn’t fair to you.”

Again, Minerva watched her attentively. “I’m sure you have your reasons,” she said slowly. “But I’m asking myself how we’re supposed to build a trusting, sustainable working relationship. You do understand that, don’t you?”

Hermione wiped her burning eyes with her sleeve. What was she supposed to do now? Well, she could still take flight and move to Australia instead. But she wouldn’t be able to take the kids with her, and she didn’t trust Ron to sufficiently take care of them. How could she survive a year at Hogwarts? Minerva was right, there was only one way, and that was telling the truth. And if it caused the rejection of her application she could at least tell Ron that she had tried it. “Your impression was correct, I did avoid you after my graduation at Hogwarts,” Hermione admitted hesitatingly. “But I didn’t do it because you did something wrong, or because I didn’t like you, on the contrary. I did it so that I could focus on my life, on my marriage and my family, and on my future.”

Hermione dared a quick glance at Minerva who looked at her with a frown. Obviously, she had no idea what Hermione was implying.

Hermione took a deep breath. “I… I have… feelings… for you, Minerva. I have had them for a very long time.”

There was absolute silence in the room. Minerva froze next to her, and when Hermione gathered the courage to look at her the Headmistress was white as a sheet.

“I won't… You absolutely don’t need to worry,” Hermione quickly assured her. “I would never overstep any boundaries… I just want to do my work here and… and finish my teacher training and…“

“You’re talking about a crush, right?“ Minerva sharply interrupted her. “A crush from a student on a teacher? Things like that happen all the time. That doesn't... “

“No.” Hermione shook her head. “It’s more than that.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Minerva had turned her back on Hermione and put her hands on the backrest of the armchair in front of the fireplace. She clutched the backrest so tightly her knuckles went white. “And you want to teach Transfiguration here under these circumstances?” She asked tonelessly. “Under my supervision?”

“Yes, I… I will manage.“ Hermione breathed deeply. “I survived my… school years too… after all…”

Minerva’s face was still ashen, and she stared into the dark fireplace as if it had any answers. “Please allow me to think about this,” she said after a while.

“I’m really sorry, Minerva.” Hermione helplessly raised her hands. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It’s just that… you asked for my honesty…“

“Yes, I know.“ Minerva managed a forced smile. “And I thank you for your trust.”

“I only want to do my teacher training here,“ Hermione repeated, increasingly desperate about Minerva’s cool reaction. “I only told you about it so that you know it’s not your fault if I were to behave oddly sometimes. I hope you do know how highly I think of you.”

“Hermione…“ Minerva made a stiff gesture towards the door. “Please don’t consider this a rejection to your application, but I think it’s best if you go now. There’s no doubt about your qualification and I will contact you shortly to tell you Hogwarts’ decision.”

Hermione obediently went to the door but stopped when a sharp pain penetrated her chest. She had kept her secret for so many years, had safely sealed it inside of herself. And only seconds after she had confessed it to Minerva, the Headmistress had reacted by kicking her out of her office. “There were moments,” she said, feeling a twinge of defiance as her hand touched the door handle. “…when I imagined you might possibly return my feelings. Obviously I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Minerva stared at her as if she didn’t comprehend the meaning of her words. “Good evening, Hermione,” she said eventually. “You will hear from me soon.”

“Good evening, Minerva.“ The door closed behind Hermione and the stony circular stairs started to take her downward.

Hermione couldn’t feel her legs anymore when she eventually reached the castle’s hard ground. Was everything over now? Was Minerva McGonagall disgusted by her feelings? And what about her future? Had she studied all those years in vain?

Chapter 2: Questions

I can't even see the lake again where the wind misses your hair,
where every wave is a sigh and every grain of sand a look of you.
I wish I was an astronaut
and flew to stars where nothing is familiar
and spoiled by a touch of you.
I’ll never be as pure as white paper again.
(Element of Crime: ”Weißes Papier“ / ”White Paper“)

 

“Rose, get off your broom immediately! Your father will give you a flying lesson in the afternoon.” Hermione quickly took the broom before Rose’s younger brother could reach for it. “Why don’t you two go outside and play in the backyard?”

“But it’s my broomstick!” Rose stamped her foot. “And I’m only pretending to fly!”

“A broom is not a toy,” Hermione explained strictly. “It’s up in the air before you know what’s happening.”

A hot tear rolled down Rose’s cheek and Hermione pulled her into her arms. “You’re a big girl now, my darling. You’re already getting birthday presents that aren’t toys.” She gently caressed her daughter’s head. “Your Dad will pick you up in half an hour, and then he’ll teach you what to do with a broomstick.”

Rose snuggled against her mother’s shoulder while Hugo tried to climb up Hermione’s body in order to catch the broom.

“Why don’t you look after the frogs, Hugo?“ Hermione kissed his forehead, and with a wave of her wand the desired broom slowly hovered towards the ceiling. “I think I just heard some of them croak.”

With a longing look Rose stared at the ceiling where her broom effortlessly floated in the air, and Hermione immediately regretted that she had been so strict with her daughter lately. It wasn’t fair to take her bad mood out on her children. Hermione’s appointment with Minerva McGonagall had been three days ago, and she hadn’t heard anything from her yet. Usually, the Headmistress didn’t put off decisions, and with every passing hour Hermione regretted her confession more. If she had kept the truth to herself she probably would have the employment contract in her hands now.

A ring at the door interrupted Hermione’s thoughts and with Hugo in her arms she hurried to answer. It wasn’t even three o’clock, so why was Ron so early?

But it wasn’t Ron who stood at her door but her former Charms professor, politely raising his hat. ”Good afternoon, Miss Granger.“ The deputy of Hogwarts offered her his small hand. “Please excuse me for stopping by unannounced.“

“That’s alright, of course, Professor Flitwick.“ Hermione put down Hugo who stared at the teacher, open-mouthed. He had never seen a man who wasn’t much taller than he was, and he didn’t really know what to make of it.

“Let's call each other by our first names, Hermione.“ Filius Flitwick said, when he followed Hermione into the living room. “I’ve known you for so many years, and from what I heard, I might be your mentor soon.“

“I hope so,“ Hermione confirmed with a smile. “I’m still waiting for an owl from the Headmistress.“ With a silent gesture, she send Rose and Hugo for playing in the backyard. Her former Charms teacher had never paid her a visit before, and Hermione racked her brain about the reason. If this was about her application he wouldn’t have needed to visit her personally.

“It’s so much warmer in London than in Scotland.“ The little professor wiped the sweat from his forehead as he took a seat on Hermione’s sofa. “If you would be so kind and give me a glass of water…“

“Yes, of course.“ Hermione disappeared in the kitchen and came back with a carafe and two glasses. A glance into the backyard told her that Rose and Hugo had found a frog and were eagerly trying to make him jump over a stick. “Is everything alright?” she asked, pouring Filius a glass of water. He seemed unusually tense.

“No.” Filius drank half of the water before he put the glass back on the table again. “The Headmistress had some kind of breakdown in her office.”

“What?” Hermione almost dropped the glass in her hand. “Why? What happened?”

“I have no idea.” Filius sadly shook his head. “I don’t have an explanation for this. That woman survived three wars, she constantly grapples with the ministry, and she deals with renitent students and unreasonable parents every day. She’s been running our school for eight years now, and I have never seen a single sign of weakness from her before.”

“Didn’t she tell you anything?“ Hermione tried in vain not to sound too concerned. “Maybe she got some bad news? Or there was some trouble among your staff?”

“Nothing of the sort.“ Filius shook his head again. “Minerva now lies in a separated area at the Hospital Wing and refuses to talk about anything with us. Poppy Pomfrey gives her a potion every hour but Minerva’s condition doesn’t seem to improve.” Filius’ shoulders slouched in resignation. “We don’t know what to do anymore.”

“How long has she been like that?“ Hermione wanted to apparate to Hogwarts on the spot, but she knew all too well she was the last person Minerva McGonagall wanted to see right now.

“For three days.“ Filius fell silent when Hermione looked at him in shock.

“But…,“ she stuttered. “I had an appointment with her…“

“Exactly,“ he nodded. “You were the last person to see her before she collapsed, Hermione.” He cleared his throat when Hermione lowered her gaze to the floor. “What on earth did you talk about?”

“It…“ Hermione’s face went bright red. “It was… something personal.“

“Really?“ Filius slid towards the edge of Hermione’s sofa so that his legs were dangling in the air. “I understand if you don’t want to tell me, but it’s very likely that there’s a connection between your last encounter and Minerva’s breakdown.” He made a pause and drank the rest of the water. “I’d like to ask you to pay Minerva a visit.”

“Me?“ Shreds of their last conversation involuntarily flashed into Hermione’s mind. How dismissive and cool Minerva had been. “What if my visit makes her condition worse?” she asked doubtingly. This possibility was a lot more likely than the much too optimistic view of the small professor.

“That’s a risk we should take.“ Filius seemed to notice Hermione’s hesitation. “You’re both Gryffindors, and you’ve never backed away from a challenge before. Besides, you can’t deny you two got along perfectly in your schooldays.” He smiled for the first time since his arrival. “Please, take a shot at it, Hermione.”

Hermione turned her gaze towards the ceiling where the broom was still peacefully floating and thought about Filius’ request. All scenarios she could think of ended in disaster. “I’m afraid she won’t want to see me. And I don’t want to be a bother to her.”

“Of course, she doesn’t want to see you. She doesn’t want to see anybody.” Filius poured himself another glass of water. He seemed to be pretty dehydrated from the journey. “But don’t let her reject you. Just let her rebukes bounce right off. Somebody must get through to her, and Poppy and I think that you have a reasonable chance. We failed and not even Pomona was able to talk to her.

“All right.“ Hermione straightened her shoulders, trying to give herself some courage. “I’ll give it a try, although I don’t think I will achieve anything. Ron will be picking the children up in a moment, and I can accompany you to Hogwarts afterwards.”

 

* * *

 

Forty-five minutes later, Hermione stood with her former Charms professor in front of the gates of Hogwarts. She hadn’t even had time to change and was mortified to notice the remains of Hugo’s lunch on her dark blue dress. A wave with her wand made the smudge disappear, but Hermione had great difficulty focusing on her task. Her thoughts already revolved around the Headmistress and how she was doing by now.

The idea of facing her again scared the hell out of Hermione. She had no clue what to do, and Filius Flitwick’s theory that Minerva McGonagall’s condition might have something to do with her last encounter made things even worse. But Hermione had promised to do her best, and she wouldn’t run away now, even though some really smart excuses were flashing through her mind.

“Don’t let her kick you out,“ Filius whispered for the third time as they climbed up the stairs to the Hospital Wing. “Minerva can be quite a bitch sometimes, and she’s stubborn as hell, but don’t let that stop you, and don’t take it personally.”

Hermione nodded, not feeling confident at all. If the little man knew what their last conversation had been about his faith in her would vanish in a second.

“Ah, Miss Granger.“ Poppy Pomfrey’s face brightened when she saw Hermione and Filius climbing up the stairs. “I was hoping Professor Flitwick would be able to convince you.”

“Hello, Madam Pomfrey.” Hermione politely shook the healer’s hand. “I doubt I’ll be able to achieve anything but I will do my best.” She nervously brushed a dark tress from her face.

“Your visit will hardly achieve less than my medicine.“ Madam Pomfrey sighed dramatically.

Hermione’s hands were sweaty when she stopped in front of the door that led to the separated part of the Hospital Wing. For some reason neither Madam Pomfrey nor Filius seemed to take into consideration that their plan could completely backfire. “Good luck,” she heard Filius’ voice behind her and Madam Pomfrey encouragingly patted her back.

The door creaked when Hermione opened it, revealing one single bed where the motionless figure of Minerva McGonagall lay under a white blanket. She looked strangely forlorn in the big room with the long corridor. Minerva’s eyes were closed and her folded hands lay on the blanket. Was she sleeping? Trying not to startle her, Hermione tentatively knocked at the doorframe.

“Stay away, Hermione,“ Minerva said harshly. “I don’t wish to see any visitors.”

Hermione stopped, puzzled. Minerva’s eyes were still closed, so how could she have known that it had been Hermione knocking at her door? Had her animagus sense smelled her? Hermione shook her head slightly, trying to focus on her task. She had to follow Filius’ advice and ignore the patient’s dismissive reaction.

When she stepped closer Minerva opened her eyes, and Hermione was shocked how dull and exhausted they looked. “Please leave, Hermione,” Minerva repeated wearily. “I want to be left alone.”

Again, Hermione resisted her impulse to immediately leave the infirmary and pulled up a chair next to Minerva’s bed. “That’s not possible,” she said with a firm voice.

“Did Filius send you?“

“Yes.“

“That’s what I thought.“ Minerva frowned, her gaze still firmly on the blanket. “As soon as you’re a patient, your rights go out the window.”

Hermione leaned back in the chair, silently regarding the slender figure in the bed. She had never seen Minerva McGonagall so weak and spiritless before. Even after Dumbledore’s death she had taken charge immediately without showing even the slightest of hesitation. She had always been there when she had been needed, no matter what it was about. “How are you, Minerva?”

“I’m fine.“ Minerva continued staring at her blanket. “But I need to rest. So I’d be much obliged if you’d leave me. Now.”

There was an unexpected begging in Minerva’s voice, and Hermione hated to just sit here, ignoring her wish. But if she got up now nothing would change. “Filius thinks there could be a connection between our last encounter and your breakdown,” she said cautiously.

“Breakdown…“ Minerva uttered the word with supreme contempt. “A lot more has to happen to make me break down.”

“What would you call it then?“ Hermione probed, but Minerva gave her no answer. “I didn’t mean to offend you the other day,” Hermione said eventually. “I just wanted to…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,“ Minerva interrupted her sharply. “Or anything else. I thought I had made that clear.”

Hermione went silent, affected by Minerva’s rudeness. For a while she just sat there, neither of them saying anything. Did Minerva treat every visitor this way or was it just her? “I will withdraw my application for my teacher training,” Hermione declared eventually. “Maybe this will…”

“You will absolutely not do that.” For the first time Minerva’s voice sounded like Professor McGonagall’s. “You will not give up your graduation just because… because…”

“Because what?“ Hermione leaned forward in her chair. “Because I was honest with you?“

Minerva’s face twitched as if Hermione had slapped her. Maybe Filius was right, and her collapse did indeed have something to do with their last encounter. A crashing noise startled both women as a bottle fell from Poppy Pomfrey’s shelf without any apparent reason. Hermione quickly stood up and repaired the damage before the feisty healer could throw a tantrum.

“Whatever,” she said, sitting down again. “I can’t take back what I said, but it’s still entirely my business, and not yours. It’s fine with me if you ignore my words in your office completely.”

“How can you say that?“ Minerva wearily closed her eyes. “You’ve suffered for years because of me, and I didn’t even know it.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

Hermione looked at her with surprise. Sympathy was the last thing she had been expecting from Minerva right now. “It’s not your fault, Minerva,” she said softly. “It’s just the way it is.”

Minerva didn’t respond, and they fell silent again. Hermione thoughtfully regarded the Headmistress’s pale face, trying to guess what Minerva was thinking. She had caught her off-guard with her confession, that much was obvious. Nevertheless, why hadn’t Minerva just told her she didn’t reciprocate her feelings and that they somehow had to find a way to deal with the situation? Wouldn’t that have been the conventional response in such a situation?

Minerva could have explained to her that she was flattered and felt sorry for turning her down but that they would find a solution together. Instead, the Headmistress had requested time, and shortly afterwards she had apparently broken down. And even now that they both had the chance to talk again about their encounter, Minerva didn’t want to comment on it.

Hermione somehow had to break through Minerva’s reserve; otherwise, she would be out of this room in two minutes without having made any progress at all. “Is there really no chance you might reciprocate my feelings just a tiny little bit?” she asked, holding her breath.

“Of course not.“ Minerva didn’t even blink.

“You think it’s wrong, don’t you?“

“Of course it’s wrong.“

“What’s wrong about it?“

“Everything.“

Hermione forced herself to stay calm. Minerva’s dismissive words hurt her more than she wanted to admit, but she told herself she had to ignore them. This was about Minerva, not about her, and if things were as easy as the Headmistress claimed, she wouldn’t be lying here in the Hospital Wing. “Don’t you think it would be best if I conducted my traineeship at a different school?” Hermione repeated her suggestion from earlier. “I’m sure I’ll find another way… somehow…”

“That’s just ridiculous, Hermione!“ Minerva angrily sat up in her bed. “You lot are making much too much fuss about my little incidence.”

Now Hermione felt a surge of anger, too. “Then tell me what you need, Minerva,” she shouted heatedly. “Madam Pomfrey’s potions obviously don’t work!”

“That’s very easy.” Minerva pointed at her bed with both index fingers. “I need rest, Hermione, rest! And if you all accepted that I’d be a lot better already.”

Hermione shook her head. This was going nowhere. “Do you know what I’m not getting, Minerva?” she started a last attempt.

Surprised, Minerva raised her eyes. ”What do you mean?”

Hermione hesitated. “I don’t understand why I don’t get an actual response to my… well… to my confession. Don’t you think it would be important for a, as you call it, intact working bond?”

Minerva sighed. “I’ve already told you that it’s wrong.“

“That’s your answer?“

“Yes.“

“You don’t have anything more to say on that matter?“

“No.“

Hermione bit on her lip. “I was hoping I deserve better,” she said resignedly.

“You do.“ Suddenly a cool, slender hand touched Hermione’s. “You do deserve better, Hermione. And mostly, you deserve someone better.” Minerva softly squeezed her hand. “You got carried away, Hermione. Please, promise me you won’t spoil your future because of such… sentiment.”

“I can’t do that.” Hermione looked down at the slender hand in hers, trying in vain to focus on her mission. “But I don’t expect anything from you,” she said under her breath. “I just wanted you to know so that you don’t think I dislike you.”

Again, there was silence in the room and neither woman made a move to say something. Eventually, Minerva pulled her blanket over both of her shoulders. “Would you please leave now, Hermione? I really need to rest.“

Hermione felt a thick lump in her throat. Filius and Madam Pomfrey had had such faith in her, and now she had to concede defeat. “May I come back tomorrow?” she asked, trying to keep the desperation from her voice.

Minerva smiled weakly. “You’ve all conspired against me anyway. So what am I supposed to do?”

Hermione was so relieved that she would have loved to take Minerva into her arms. “Okay then,” she said, her voice as neutral as possible, and rose from her chair without letting go of Minerva’s hand. And on impulse, she suddenly did something really outrageous: She bent down to Minerva and kissed her forehead. “Get better soon, Minerva.”

Then she let go of Minerva’s hand and left the Hospital Wing without turning around again.

 

* * *

 

When Hermione left the Hospital Wing, Filius Flitwick was already waiting for her, pacing up and down the corridor. “How did it go?” he asked immediately as he saw her stepping out of the door. “Did she talk to you?”

“Not much.“ Hermione felt terrible having to disappoint the professor. “She said she needed a lot of rest.“

“Did she tell you what’s going on?“

“No,“ Hermione responded honestly. “But I’m allowed to come back tomorrow.“

“That’s great!“ Filius clapped his hands. “That’s more than I expected.”

“Really?” Hermione wearily rubbed her temples. The Charms professor’s triumphant expression only indicated how helpless he had felt over the last few days.

“I hope you don’t mind coming back again?“ Filius seemed to just remember that Hermione’s life usually took place outside of Hogwarts. “I know it’s a lot to ask but…”

“No, of course I’ll do it.”

“Miss Granger!“ Poppy Pomfrey’s excited voice interrupted Hermione as the healer left the Hospital Wing. “I knew instantly your visit would be a good idea.” She turned to Filius. “I just gave Minerva her potion, and for the first time it felt like I was talking to Minerva McGonagall again,” she reported with shining eyes. “She berated me and told me to go to hell, but that was a lot better than her lethargic behavior over the few last days. This morning she was still a person I didn’t know at all.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear.” Filius took a deep breath. “We can’t thank you enough, Hermione.”

“But I didn’t do anything, Filius.“ Hermione considered their enthusiasm pretty premature. “We’ve barely talked, and I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

“It’ll work out all right. At least her spirits seem to be coming back gradually.“ Filius was obviously determined to stay optimistic. “Have you talked about your teacher training, by the way?” he changed the topic. “The staff decided unanimously for your employment, but the Headmistress has the final say about this. So…”

“Minerva just asked me to tell you that she approves Hermione’s employment at Hogwarts,” Poppy responded before Hermione could answer him. “So we’re going to see you a lot more now, Miss Granger.”

“That’s wonderful.“ Filius beamed as he shook Hermione’s hand. “Surely, you will be a great asset to our school.”

“I just hope she won’t have to stay as often at the Hospital Wing as she used to in her schooldays,” Madam Pomfrey said dryly. “Thank Merlin she’s not huddling together with the Potter boy anymore.”

“The Potter boy is doing an important job at the ministry,” Hermione defended her best friend.

“Poppy’s just teasing you,“ Filius explained with a smile. “Actually she liked you a lot back then. And thanks to the three of you she never got bored in the Hospital Wing.”

Chapter 3: Walls

Notes:

Thank you all for your nice comments. They really mean a lot to me!
This chapter is still a bit slow, but things will get more interesting soon (I hope). Many, many thanks to my amazing beta reader Ronam.

Chapter 3: Walls

 

Maybe she‘ll never see me again
as soon as I‘ll be gone.
It isn’t easy,
but I love her more than she allows.
(Element of Crime: „Mehr als sie erlaubt“ / “More than she allows”)

 

Back home, Hermione thought a lot about her conversation with Minerva. Had her visit really contributed to the fact that the Headmistress seemed a little better now? And if that was case, what had caused it? And what did it mean for her next visit?

When Hermione had defiantly said to her former Transfiguration professor that she might return her feelings it had only been an attempt to strike back, just to feel a little less humiliated. Not in a million years had she actually taken that possibility into consideration, but now, for the first time, she thought about her own words. Maybe she hadn’t been as wrong as she had always thought.

In hindsight, there had been moments during Hermione’s schooldays when the Gryffindor Head had been conspicuously aloof towards her, and there had been other moments when she had behaved the complete opposite. But of course these contradictions could have had all kinds of reasons that probably had nothing to do with Hermione. Minerva was one of the most famous and most capable witches in the world, and it had simply been unthinkable that she would be interested in a young pupil. A pupil who, incidentally, had been more than forty years her junior.

However, when Hermione put the pieces of the puzzle together now, things didn’t seem so clear anymore. Of course it could be a strange coincidence that Minerva had collapsed shortly after her job interview, but why didn’t she have anything else to say to Hermione than simply calling her feelings ‘wrong’? What kind of a response was that? It didn’t fit with the Headmistress’ usually complex thinking.

But even though this was kind of strange, wasn’t it completely self-aggrandizing to even think that Hermione’s words had literarily knocked out one of the most powerful witches of all times? A witch who had, as Filius had stressed, survived three wars without showing any sign of weakness.

Maybe something else was behind all of that, something Minerva kept to herself because she didn’t want to bother anybody. Who knew what was going on in Minerva’s private life? Not even her colleagues seemed to know anything about it, so Hermione decided to ask some careful questions at her next visit.

Fortunately, Ron volunteered to babysit the children after work so that Hermione could travel to Hogwarts again. In good faith that Hermione’s visit was still about her training, he firmly crossed his fingers for her, and Hermione didn’t have the heart to tell him the real reason for her absence. Certainly, the Headmistress wouldn’t appreciate gossip about her breakdown.

When Hermione once again knocked at the infirmary’s door the following day, she waited in vain for a response. After a minute, she decided to open the door and stealthily approached Minerva McGonagall’s bed at the end of the corridor. The Headmistress seemed to be asleep, so it seemed it would be better if she came back in half an hour. Hermione had just turned around when she heard Minerva’s deep voice.

“Hermione?“

“I’m sorry, I…“ Hermione stopped indecisively. For the second time she wondered how Minerva might have recognized her. “I didn’t mean to bother you…”

“You don’t bother.“ Minerva raised her hand and, as by itself, a chair slid from the window next to her bed. “You came all the way from London after all, didn’t you?”

It never ceased to amaze Hermione how easily Minerva could perform wandless magic, even now in her weakened condition. She obediently sat down in the chair and looked into the green eyes that calmly rested on her. Minerva looked a lot better than the day before, and Hermione gave her a shy smile as she pulled out a big flower bouquet from behind her back. It was a colorful bunch with red poppies and blue cornflowers that she had quickly picked before she had apparated to Hogwarts. The combination was a bit unusual for the season but that was part of the joy of magic.

“Oh.“ A smile flashed over Minerva’s pale face. “Thank you, Hermione. That’s a beautiful bouquet.“

“It’s a salute from the summer,” Hermione explained while putting the flowers into a vase. “I still remember how much my Transfiguration teacher hated being inside of the castle when the sun was shining outside.”

“So true.” Minerva sniffed the blossoms before she gave the bouquet back to Hermione so that she could put it on the small table next to her bed. “It smells like the meadow next to the Borrow.”

“That’s right.” Hermione raised her eyebrows. How on earth could Minerva discriminate the smell of various flower fields in her human form? Apparently the cat in her was never completely absent. Hermione sat down in her chair again and tried to find an innocuous topic to begin their conversation, but Minerva beat her to it.

“Filius informed me that the staff agreed to your application,” she said, her voice having the well-known formal tone. “So you can start your teacher training here at the beginning of September.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hermione responded with the same formality in her voice, searching in the Headmistress’s face for a sign that she had something against the decision. It didn’t seem like it, but who knew what was really going on inside of Minerva’s head.

“During the first term you’ll do your teacher training for Transfiguration, during the second term you’ll do your training for Charms,” Minerva explained as if she sat at her desk in her office. “Marius Mitch and Filius Flitwick will be your mentors.”

To her surprise, Hermione realized she was starting to look forward to her new job. She suddenly had a vision of roaming through Hogwarts’ grounds and teaching young people how to perform magic. “Where am I supposed to live during the terms?”

“As to that, some things have actually changed here over the last few years.” Minerva smiled when Hermione looked at her quizzically. “A hundred years ago it was natural for teachers at a boarding school not to start a family, but nowadays professors want to have children and teach at a boarding school. For years, some of our teachers have complained about it, and rightly so, I have to admit. Therefore, I talked to Kingsley, and we found a way for our professors to teach at Hogwarts and also be with their families.”

“Here at Hogwarts?“ Hermione tried to imagine her kids running around in the castle and playing Hide and Seek behind the knights’ armors. Minerva couldn‘t mean that, could she? A school wasn’t a playground after all.

“No, that wouldn’t be possible, would it?“ Minerva seemed to have a similar image before her eyes. “But three years ago, we bought several small houses in Hogsmeade where the professors now live with their families. All houses have a fireplace that is connected to a big fireplace in Hogwarts’ kitchen via the Floo Network.”

“I thought only the fireplace of the Headmistress is connected to the Floo Network?“ Hermione asked curiously. “Doesn’t that entail significant security risks?”

“That was indeed the greatest obstacle.” Minerva raised her hand in the air, and when she lowered it she held a piece of parchment in her hands which she gave Hermione. “Hence you have to undergo a complex registration process at the ministry, as will your children. After the official registration Hogwarts will recognize you and your children and let you pass through the fireplace. The procedure is complicated because we have to make sure it can’t be circumvented by Polyjuice Potion or any other tricks.”

“Wow!“ Hermione studied the parchment, not yet believing what it said. This was good news, but how was she supposed to teach and look after her children at the same time? Even before her job interview she had seriously considered asking Minerva for the time turner again. It would certainly be a stressful year that way, but at least she could finally get her degrees.

“We also started a childcare in Hogsmeade.” Minerva seemed to have guessed Hermione’s thoughts. “Two young witches take care of eight children at the moment, and Rose and Hugo will be very welcome there. Your office will be at Hogwarts, though. There are special offices for trainee teachers on the third floor.“ Minerva interrupted herself when Madam Pomfrey stepped in to give her a fresh potion.

“I’m sorry to bother you but Professor McGonagall’s medicine can’t wait any longer,” the healer apologized to Hermione. “The potion is way overdue.”

Hermione immediately pushed her chair aside to make space for Madam Pomfrey. In a way she was grateful for the interruption since it gave her a chance to collect her thoughts. Had Minerva actually offered her a place in Hogsmeade where she could live with her children? And Rose and Hugo could go to a preschool, as long as she was working? And they were allowed to walk around in the castle? Otherwise their registration process wouldn’t make sense. Rose and Hugo would love it here!

Hermione nodded kindly at Madam Pomfrey as the healer left the room again. “And you’re sure you’re okay with me working here, Minerva?” she asked again, just to be on the safe side.

“I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I wasn’t.” Minerva straightened her back and stuffed a pillow in her back. “Unless you’ve changed your mind…”

Hermione shook her head. “No, I’d love to finish my teacher training here. Even more now that I know there’s a way I can live with Rose and Hugo.”

“No buts?“ Minerva looked at her attentively.

Hermione blushed under her scrutinizing look. The Headmistress just knew her too well. “But it is important to me that you and I get along well,” she confessed reluctantly. “I still think I upset you when we talked in your office. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

“We will find a way.“ Minerva’s voice sounded a lot less confident than Hermione was used to.

Inside, Hermione was struggling. It was very tempting to accept Minerva’s peace offer and to act as if everything was fine now. But she had her doubts this strategy would work for long. Minerva herself had pointed out during her job interview that they could only work well together when they were honest with each other. “I’ll do my best,” she promised. “But I don’t like it when someone says that my feelings are wrong.”

Minerva’s face closed up immediately. “I don’t think we’ll get along well if you keep raising this topic again and again,” she said warningly.

“In my opinion it’s quite the opposite.“ Hermione was surprised by her own clear voice. “Only after we sorted out the matter will we be able to get along well.”

“What do you want to sort out?“ Minerva looked up at the ceiling with irritation. “There’s nothing more to say on the matter.”

“No?“

“No.“

“Then please tell me why it’s wrong?“ Hermione hated herself for forcing Minerva to talk about a topic she obviously didn’t want to talk about. But if she settled for Minerva’s answer now, it would come back to her in no time.

“Why?“ Minerva’s expression didn’t leave a doubt as to how superfluous she considered this conversation. “Because you are 26, and I’m almost 70. And because you shouldn’t waste your future, Hermione.“

Hermione lowered her gaze at the white blanket and tried to understand the meaning behind Minerva’s words. Why was she always talking about Hermione and never about herself? And why was it always about right and wrong? And who defined that?

“It’s wrong, Hermione,“ Minerva repeated with emphasis. “It’s against everything I stand for and what’s important and valuable to me.”

Hermione got up and walked to the opposite side of the room. “So it’s about morals?” she asked, pacing up and down the room. “About age and about hierarchies? Or is it about me being a woman?”

“You are not only a woman, but also a former student of mine.“ Minerva’s eyes followed Hermione walking up and down in front of the window. “And you will soon be a member of my staff.” Minerva paused, apparently searching for the right words. “Believe me, it’s not unusual for students to have a crush on their teacher. These phases pass and…”

“That’s bullshit!“ Hermione threw both of her hands up in the air. How could Minerva be so dense? “It’s not a crush! I’ve already told you that.” She could hardly contain herself. “It might have started like that but it changed into something different long ago.“

“You can’t know that!“ Minerva’s voice was growing in volume. “You only know me as your teacher, Hermione. And because you took great care to ensure we never really met again after your school graduation nothing has changed – except in your imagination.”

Hermione slumped back into her chair. It hurt that Minerva dismissed her feelings as if they were a phase in a maturation process Hermione had yet to work through. She just wanted to say something snappy when she noticed how exhausted and pale the Headmistress looked again. “I’m sorry I started this again,” she apologized. Just in time, she saw out of the corner of her eye that a potion was again about to fall from Madam Pomfrey’s shelf, and with a quick Ascendio charm she prevented yesterday’s incidence from repeating itself. “It won’t happen again, Minerva,” she promised. “But please just don’t dismiss my feelings as if they were a passing aberration.” She reached for her bag and stood up.

“Do you have to leave already?“ Minerva’s voice sounded raw and strained.

“I don’t have to, but I’m afraid my presence doesn’t do you any good.” Hermione pushed an annoying strand of hair from her forehead. “You told me you needed a lot of rest, and it seems I’m not able to comply with that.”

Minerva sighed and pointed at the now empty chair next to her bed. “Why don’t you tell me about your plans for your teacher training?” she suggested. “Knowing you, I’m sure you already have several ideas about the subject material in Transfiguration.”

Hermione lowered her bag again and sat back in her chair. “That’s actually true,” she confessed, feeling exactly like long ago when her Head of House had caught her in the library late in the evening. “I’d like to hear your opinion about it to be honest.”

Minerva smiled warmly, and it felt as if suddenly the entire room brightened. “Tell me about your ideas.”

Chapter 4: A beginning

Every gaze an attempt, every word a thousand tons.
Quite easy, quite easy it won’t be.
(Element of Crime: „Ganz leicht“ / “Quite easy”)

 

Hermione had so much to do during the following weeks that she barely had time to breathe. She had to sign up Rose and Hugo at the kindergarten, organize the move to Hogwarts, and go to the ministry several times where she needed to undergo all kinds of tests for the registration. Rose couldn’t wait to finally see Hogwarts and asked her mother at least once a day when they would move. Hugo on the other hand appreciated the countless moving boxes and passionately unwrapped everything Hermione had just packed.

In the last week of August, it was finally time for Hermione and her children to move into a small house in Hogsmeade. There was a bright living room with a charming kitchenette, a small bedroom, two colorful children’s rooms, and a bathroom with vibrant violet tiles. Their new home was not even half the size of Hermione’s former house, but it had much more space than she had expected. Fortunately, Hugo and Rose loved the place immediately and didn’t mourn their old home too much. Both children were overjoyed when Hermione took them to the Honeydukes, which she severely regretted afterwards, because from then on Hugo demanded to go there every time they left the house.

Step by step Hermione familiarized her children with the castle, and they explored Hogwarts’ many secrets together. Peeves tried to play tricks on them as often as possible, but even he couldn’t stop the children’s curiosity. When they tried the connection from their fireplace to Hogwarts’ kitchen for the first time, Hermione’s appearance almost caused a tragic accident. The house elf Winky was so surprised to see her that she promptly fell from a tall chair, and only the lightning-fast reaction of the house elf next to her prevented the worst.

“These are Hogwarts‘ house elves,“ Hermione introduced the hardworking cooks to her amazed children. “They conjure the yummiest food, and they take care to make everything in the castle go smoothly.”

Winky’s big eyes grew even a little wider as she wiped her sticky fingers on her grubby loincloth. “What‘s Hermione Granger doing here?” she asked suspiciously.

The mentioning of Hermione’s name made all heads in the kitchen turn towards the three visitors. Obviously Hermione was kind of famous among the elves. Not only because she had been a friend of Dobby and had helped Harry Potter to defeat Lord Voldemort, but also because she had tried to free the house elves from their slavery during her schooldays.

“It’s nice to see you, Winky.“ Hermione offered her hand to the house elf. “These are my children, Rose and Hugo. They’ll be at Hogwarts from time to time as I’m going to teach here this year.”

Hermione’s handshake wasn’t reciprocated as Winky made a deep bow. “Winky is glad to see Harry Potter’s friend,” she said politely. “What’s their favorite meal?” She looked over at Rose and Hugo.

“Spaghetti!“ Rose and Hugo shouted with one voice.

Hermione shook her head about her cheeky kids. “That’s nice of you to ask, Winky, but Rose and Hugo will have breakfast at childcare,” she explained. “I hope they’ll soon have the chance to taste your delicious food, though.”

Winky seemed to appreciate the compliment and Hermione continued. “As soon as I’ve finished my teacher training I will start to work at the ministry, and I’ll make sure all house elves soon will get more rights.”

The house elf who had saved Winky from a serious injury, anxiously hid behind a pillar. Others stared at their worktops or were suddenly very busy with the preparation of the pumpkin pie. Then one house elf with a colorful loincloth, who stood in front of a huge oven, raised his arms up in the air. “Freedom for all of us!” he yelled through the kitchen. “Long live Dobby!”

The other house elves winced visibly and Hermione patted Winky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry we’re keeping you from work,” she apologized. ”But I hope we’ll see each other more often from now on.“

The tiny house elf made another deep bow. “Winky hopes Hermione Granger will be satisfied with her service.” Then she jumped back on her tall chair and started to stir a soup in a big pot.

On the second day, Hermione introduced Rose and Hugo to the childcare facility in Hogsmeade. Since the preschool was located in one of the houses Hogwarts had bought, Rose and Hugo only needed to cross the street to get there. The two witches, who took care of the children, seemed dedicated and trustworthy, and all the children apparently loved them. After only two hours, Rose and Hugo were both so absorbed by their play that Hermione was able to leave to furnish her office at Hogwarts. It was pretty tiny and didn’t have any furniture except from a desk and a chair. Hermione realized she was actually looking forward to making it more comfortable and cozy. Some of her bookshelves would end up here, and she would put two chairs in front of the fireplace. She also wanted to ask some portraits from the staircase if they would volunteer to beautify her office.

Hermione had already met several professors in the corridors. The teachers, who still knew her from her school years, greeted her with evident pleasure, while the younger teachers seemed to have great respect for her. Some of them actually looked scared of her. Hermione’s reputation as part of the “Golden Trio” and best friend of Harry Potter preceded her, and especially the Transfiguration professor, Marius Mitch, approached her with clear restraint. He was a lean man in his fifties with thick black hair and dark eyebrows who didn’t seem very affectionate at first sight. When Hermione had a longer conversation with him at lunch, he seemed to defrost a bit, but she didn’t get the impression he wanted to have much to do with her.

His reserved behavior was probably not completely unfounded, because Hermione was not only known for her exceptional talent but also for her tendency to be a know-it-all, which she had never completely gotten rid of. She actually had a hard time composing herself to not present him some small improvements for his work during their first meal together. In her opinion, his ideas were unimaginative and boring for the students, but she hoped she would soon get the chance to teach herself. Then she could make all the changes she wanted.

Hermione hadn’t seen the Headmistress since her visit in the Hospital Wing, but it was said that she had left the infirmary and now spent a lot of time in her office to make up for her absence. Secretly, Hermione was relieved Minerva hadn’t summoned her yet. It gave her the chance to settle in without always brooding over their latest encounters.

On September 1st, it was finally time for the school to open its gates, and within minutes hundreds of students rolled in. There was such a deafening noise as if half of England had stepped of the Hogwarts Express, and the teachers had a hard time bringing the crowd under control.

When the First Years, accompanied by Hagrid, pattered through the Great Hall – some of them curious, others clearly anxious – Minerva McGonagall rose from her chair, and this gesture alone silenced the crowd. Minerva joined the First Years during the selection ceremony and only returned to her seat in the center of her staff after the Sorting Hat had placed the last First Year into a House.

The exhaustion that Hermione still had seen on her face at their last encounter was completely gone now. Minerva welcomed the new and old students professionally and kindly as usual and pointed out the rules. Unfortunately, Hermione’s secret hope that caretaker Filch might have retired by now, turned out to be overly optimistic. During the entire ceremony, he stood in the corner with a lurking pose, waiting eagerly for a breach of the rules he could punish.

When Minerva proceeded to introduce the new professors to the students, Hermione was suddenly convinced every student read on her forehead what she felt for Hogwarts’ Headmistress. She tried to tell herself that nobody at the staff table was able to do Legilimency, except maybe Minerva herself, but it didn’t help. Before Hermione could pull herself together, it was her turn.

“As another new colleague, please welcome Hermione Granger, who will finish her teacher training at Hogwarts.” Minerva had to interrupt her speech as a loud murmur went through the hall. Everybody in the room knew Hermione’s name, and especially at the Gryffindor table students whispered excitedly. Minerva allowed the students to talk for a while, then she raised her hand. “Miss Granger will support Professor Mitch during the first term, and she will support Professor Flitwick during the second term,” she continued after it was quiet again. “I’d also like to introduce Neville Longbottom as another trainee teacher, who will support Professor Sprout this year.”

Neville’s name also caused some turmoil among the students. He was very well known as the student who had chopped off the head of Voldemort’s snake, Nagini, with the Gryffindor sword. Neville beamed at the crowd and waved at Hermione who waved back with a smile. She had already bumped into her old friend in the library several days ago, and she had been overjoyed to hear he was conducting his training this year too. They had gone to the Three Broomsticks together and another get together was already planned.

Minerva introduced several other professors, but Hermione couldn’t make herself focus on her words. It felt so strange that the woman, whose forehead Hermione had kissed only weeks ago, was in the same room with her again, and yet as unattainable as ever.

Hermione tried to tell herself that Minerva was behaving quite normally, but it didn’t change her disappointment. What had she expected? Had she actually believed Minerva would treat her even slightly different from before? And was Minerva not doing exactly what Hermione had asked her to do? The Headmistress left her in peace so that Hermione could do her job without trouble. So what was the problem?

Hermione decided she would strictly focus on her teacher training from now on. That’s why she was here after all, wasn’t she? And the best she could do was proving that Hogwarts did the right thing to employ her. Maybe she was lucky and the year would fly by. Real soon she would have two degrees in her pocket, and then she would apply at the ministry, far away from Hogwarts. Life would go on, and it would go on without Minerva McGonagall.

 

* * *

 

Hermione’s plan to ignore the Headmistress as much as possible turned out to be much more difficult than she had thought. Minerva McGonagall was her boss after all and furthermore, the former Transfiguration professor. It was simply impossible to avoid her all the time, and Hermione seriously considered conjuring a memory charm on her about their last encounters. But of course there was no way to really do that.

So the weeks passed, the autumn wind blew withered leaves from the Forbidden Forest over Hogwarts’ grounds, and Hermione still hadn’t found a way to act fairly normal in Minerva’s McGonagall’s presence. Neville had already taken her aside, asking her if everything was alright between the Headmistress and her. Although Hermione had appreciated his concern as a friend, she hadn’t answered his question but had told him about her arguments with Marius Mitch instead.

“Hermione, do you agree the three Fourth Years shouldn’t get permission to go to Hogsmeade this weekend?” Minerva addressed her at the staff meeting, and Hermione raised her head, blushing. She had only listened to the discussion with half an ear and hadn’t caught the alternatives.

“I… would rather choose a consequence closer to the boys’ misdemeanor,” she said carefully. “Since they vandalized the greenhouses they should do some work in a greenhouse, categorizing plants, for example.”

“What’s your opinion on this, Pomona?“ Minerva asked without looking up from her papers.

“It would be a more useful punishment than cancelling their excursion,” Pomona Sprout agreed with Hermione. “And of course we’ll take fifty points from Hufflepuff.”

“Very well.“ Minerva wrote a note on her parchment. “Neville will take the boys to the greenhouse tomorrow afternoon.“

“But the Hufflepuffs have their Quidditch training then,“ Rolanda Hooch protested. “The training was already cancelled last week.”

“There’s no reason to cancel the training just because the two Beaters won’t be there, Rolanda.“ Minerva pushed her documents together and looked at her staff. “Anything else?”

Marius Mitch cleared his throat. ”Hermione wants to teach a lesson on her own next week. She has already helped me several times but she has yet to do a lesson on her own. However, we are studying a very delicate topic at the moment.”

Minerva frowned. “What topic, Marius?“

“We’re studying the transfiguration of inanimate things into mammals,“ he said, putting on an air of importance.

“Do you trust yourself to do that?“ Minerva addressed Hermione.

“Of course.“ Hermione pushed her chin forward. “If I’m allowed to do as I see fit. I have several suggestions for improvement and would like to implement them.”

Immediately, all heads in the room turned towards her. Even Minerva seemed to be speechless for a second. “Would you please see me in my office after dinner, Hermione?” she then asked, writing a note in her documents. “If there aren’t any other requests, the meeting is closed.”

Hermione looked around in confusion as all professors got up and rushed past her. What had she done wrong? Why had Minerva summoned her to her office? She cast a quizzical glance at Marius Mitch, but he went to the door without another comment.

During dinner with her children, Hermione absentmindedly picked at her spaghetti. She couldn’t say what was worrying her more, the fact that she had obviously made a big mistake, or the prospect of being alone in a room with Minerva McGonagall in less than half an hour. Why had the Headmistress looked so annoyed?

As soon as she had taken her kids to bed, Hermione went back to the castle, her heart in her throat. “Audaces fortuna iuvat,” she timidly said to the gargoyle, taking a deep breath when it let her pass.

After she had knocked at the Headmistress‘s office Minerva demanded she enter with a quick gesture. With a barely noticeable wave of her hand she lit the candles in the room, which immediately bathed the office in a warm light. Hermione reluctantly stepped closer, alarmed that Minerva didn’t offer her the usual cup of tea.

“This cannot continue, Hermione,“ Minerva said, even before Hermione had reached her desk. “You cannot disrespect and undermine my teachers or their methods.”

“Excuse me, what?“ Hermione looked at her in horror. “I didn’t …“

“Of course, you did,“ Minerva interrupted her brusquely. “You obviously haven’t understood yet that you’re working in a hierarchical system. I’ve seen this inappropriate behavior of yours several times now.”

Hermione felt like she had been hit between the eyes. She had absolutely no idea what Minerva was talking about. She had tried so hard to do everything right over the last weeks, just to make it easy for Minerva. And now she accused her of being disrespectful?

Minerva scrutinized Hermione through her square glasses. “Hermione,” she said in a noticeably softer tone. “After you have gotten your degree in Transfiguration you can do whatever you want, but as long as this isn’t the case you have to acknowledge Marius Mitch as your mentor. He’s the Transfiguration professor, not you.”

Hermione defiantly crossed her arms before her chest. “I like Marius, and the students seem to like him, too,” she defended herself. “But his teaching methods are from the last century. I know I can do it better.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.“ Minerva took off her glasses and put them on her desk. “It doesn’t matter if you can do it better or not. I expect you to respect Professor Mitch and his teaching style.”

“But he mixes up incantations,“ Hermione insisted. “He explains things the wrong way, his methods are opaque and boring, and he lets lack of precision pass much too often. How are the students supposed to learn what’s right and what’s wrong when he permanently assures them they did it right?” Hermione couldn’t understand why Minerva, as the former Transfiguration teacher, didn’t consider this a problem. The subject had to be closer to her heart than any other. “Why am I not allowed to do it the way I think is right? Wouldn’t this be in your interest, too?”

“First and foremost, it’s in my interest that the students respect their teachers,” Minerva responded, unmoved. “And if you start competing with Marius Mitch you’ll undermine his authority. You’ll make him look like a fool in front of the students, as you have done today in front of the entire staff.”

Hermione pressed her lips together. She could see the Headmistress’s point now, but it wasn’t fair. “I can only teach the way I see fit,” she protested. “I’ll lose my credibility in front of the students if I don’t believe in what I’m doing myself.”

“Hermione.“ Minerva got up and walked towards her. “Nobody asks you to do something you don’t feel confident with. All I’m asking is for you to show more respect to a teaching style that isn’t yours.”

Hermione shook her head. “Isn’t that difficult for you, too?” she asked in disbelief. “You surely want the best for your subject.”

“You don’t expect me to take sides, do you?” A weak smile flickered across Minerva’s face, but there was a warning undertone in her voice.

Hermione lowered her gaze. Of course Minerva couldn’t do that. “No, I don’t”, she said quietly. “But I have so many ideas, so many things I want to do with the students… and Marius wants me to teach exactly the way he does.”

“That’s probably because he thinks it’s the best way.” Minerva smiled. “And it’s his job as your mentor to teach you how to teach. And as much as you may dislike it, he has a lot more experience than you have.”

“I know.” Hermione wanted to argue that experience didn’t always help. Sometimes bad teachers were just bad teachers. But she couldn’t deny that she was just a new trainee without any teaching experience.

“It’s not that I don’t understand you, Hermione,” Minerva added in a kinder voice. “Sometimes it’s difficult to be ahead of other people.“

“Thank you, Minerva.“ Hermione exhaled deeply. The fact that the Headmistress seemed to have great faith in Hermione’s capabilities made a great difference.

Gratefully, Hermione looked at Minerva, but she immediately regretted it as she noticed how close they were standing. Minerva seemed to have the same thought for she abruptly drew back. “This can’t continue either,” she murmured.

“What do you mean?“ Hermione decided to play dump.

“This.” Minerva made a gesture between Hermione and herself. “Filius told me people are already talking about us.”

“Neville said the same to me,” Hermione admitted reluctantly. “I’m really trying, Minerva…”

“That seems to be the problem.“ Minerva sighed. “You’re trying to make it easy for me by avoiding me, and I’m trying to make it easy for you by leaving you in peace. We’re both trying too hard.”

“Maybe.” Hermione looked at the floor, embarrassed. “But I… each time I look at you I’m so full of…” She interrupted herself. “Whatever...”

“So full of what?“ Minerva probed.

“So full of… everything.“ Hermione went to the fireplace and sat down in one of the armchairs. She couldn’t have this conversation standing. “I’m so sorry, Minerva. I wish I could behave differently, think differently, feel differently, but I can’t.” She pressed her hand against her hurting chest. “Maybe it was the wrong decision to come back to Hogwarts...”

“You‘re considering breaking off your teacher training?” Minerva sounded so horrified that Hermione jumped with fright. “That’s ridiculous.” She sat down in the armchair next to Hermione and took her hands. “Hermione,” she said emphatically. “I told you not to let yourself be guided by your feelings. They’ll ruin your future.”

Hermione averted her face as tears welled in her eyes. “Ron always accused me of being so rational all of the time,” she said with a strained voice. “And usually he’s right about that… but… but this…“ She gathered all of her courage and raised her gaze. “… is stronger than me.“

Minerva drew her hands away as if she had burned herself. With a jerky move she leaned back in her armchair and looked at the fireplace where a log of wood had just fallen down. With a flick of her wand, she moved it back to its original place.

They were silent for a while, and Hermione wondered how on earth they had ended up on this topic again. Hadn’t they been talking about Marius Mitch just minutes ago? “Can’t we just claim we had a quarrel and decided to avoid each other for the rest of the term, while strictly maintaining our professionalism?” she suggested.

Minerva frowned. “We can’t avoid each other, Hermione. I’m your boss, plus you’re teaching my subject.”

Hermione couldn’t think of an appropriate response to that. For a long while they stared into nowhere, Hermione with a thick lump in her throat, and Minerva with a deep line on her forehead. “What are you thinking, Hermione?” Minerva asked eventually.

Hermione startled, feeling caught. “I’m thinking there’s so much I want to tell you,” she said with a blush. “Sometimes it feels like I’m choking on it.”

Apparently Minerva hadn’t expected that response. With a sigh, she put her face into her hands and Hermione wasn’t sure whether this signaled the end of their appointment. “Would it help if you said these things aloud?” Minerva asked all of a sudden.

“Say them… aloud?” Hermione’s heart almost stopped. As much sense as her thoughts had made in her head, it felt impossible to actually say them, even less to Minerva McGonagall. “I don’t know…”

“You just said you’re choking on them.“ Minerva’s voice sounded as firm as always, but Hermione could see the fear in her eyes. “Since all other strategies don’t seem to have worked, I think a change of tactic is in order. Maybe we should take the bull right by the horns.”

Hermione found the metaphor pretty inappropriate. This was not about a crazy wild bull but about her deepest feelings. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she argued.

“Is it that terrible?“

Hermione didn’t respond as Minerva’s joke fell flat. She was torn between her wish to finally share her thoughts and the fear that her words, once said, would make things even worse.

“Would you please promise me something, Minerva?“ she asked, still hesitating. “Would you tell me how you feel, afterwards?” She hated to ask the question, but it wouldn’t be very fair if she was the only one to reveal things.

“Yes, I can do that,“ Minerva promised. Apparently she had come to the same conclusion. With a flick of her wand she curtained the portraits and conjured a Muffliato charm on the seating unit in front of the fireplace. She then put her hands into her lap and looked at Hermione expectantly.

“Would you please close your eyes?“ Hermione asked shyly.

When Minerva complied with her request Hermione closed her eyes too, forcing herself to calm down. Almost a minute passed until her voice finally obeyed her. “Time has always flown by in your presence,” she started cautiously. “I could listen to you forever. I love your brilliant mind, your courage, and your dry humor, your sense of fairness, of honesty and justice, your bravery, and your quick-wittedness. I love your passion and your compassion for others, your persistence in following your goals, and your stubbornness when someone gets in your way…”

Hermione opened her eyes for a second and looked at Minerva. As promised her eyelids were closed but a soft flush had covered her cheeks. She looked so beautiful that Hermione had to resist the impulse to kiss her. “I love your high scruples and morals,” she continued softly. “But also your kindness and the forbearance you show at others. I love the grace and elegance of your movements, as a human being and as a cat. And that you never seem to lose sight of the overall picture, and that you always keep a cool head, no matter how difficult the situation is…”

Hermione wasn’t sure how to proceed. “It hurts me when you call these feelings wrong,” she eventually said. “Deep down inside, I feel that this isn’t an immature obsession and or a childish infatuation for a teacher either. Is it so wrong that I would like nothing more than to give you love, happiness, and fulfillment? And that I want to be the person who takes the weight from your shoulders in the evening and wakes up with you in the morning? That I never want to turn my gaze away from you because your beauty overwhelms me time and time again? Is that wrong, Minerva? I know I’m decades younger than you. I know you’ve seen me growing up. But that doesn’t make it a delusion. I wish you would stop trying to persuade me out of my feelings.”

Again, Hermione went silent, but this time she didn’t dare to open her eyes. She was too afraid what she would see in the Headmistress’s face. “I understand if you don’t reciprocate my feelings,” she said with a trembling voice. “I never expected it, and I’m not asking for anything. But I believe that love is always a gift, even if it’s unfulfilled. And that it deserves to be valued instead of being ignored, trivialized, and devalued. That’s all I wish from you.”

It was completely quiet in the room, and inside of Hermione it finally seemed to have become quiet as well. A strange sort of peace had captured her, now that she had finally gotten rid of what had longed to be expressed for years. Hermione still kept her eyes closed, but she felt a special energy in the room. It wasn’t the first time she felt this strange power in Minerva’s presence, but it had never been this intense. Did Minerva feel that too?

Finally, Hermione gathered the courage to open her eyes. Minerva sat in her armchair, her eyes still closed, but a tear glinted on her right cheek. It ran slowly down her chin, and Hermione resisted the impulse to brush it away with her thumb. “You can open your eyes now,” she said quietly.

When their eyes met, time suddenly stood still. For a tiny little instant Hermione felt like she was looking directly into the depths of Minerva’s soul. Then the window closed again and a veil covered the green eyes.

“Is everything all right?“ Hermione asked with a husky voice.

“Yes, of course.“ Minerva’s voice sounded raw and foreign, too.

Hermione nodded mutely and nervously ran her fingers through her bushy hair. She felt raw and naked and didn’t know where to look. “Would you tell me what you’re thinking?” she asked, her gaze at the floor.

She looked up in surprise when she felt Minerva’s warm hand on her own. “I’m thinking that you’re a wonderful person, Hermione, and that you just said things to me nobody has ever said to me,” Minerva answered, obviously touched. “And that I can learn a lot from you...” She squeezed Hermione’s hand before letting it go. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

It took Hermione a moment to realize that Minerva had finally understood. She had actually understood! Hermione felt such a weight falling from her chest that she didn’t know what to say. “Maybe we should…”

“… meet for tea more often, instead of avoiding each other?“ Minerva smiled warmly when Hermione nodded, delighted. “Maybe we could start with a tea this Friday afternoon?”

“I’d like that.” Hermione noticed all of a sudden she had completely lost her sense of time. It was probably long after ten o’clock and judging by the full desk, Minerva obviously still had a lot of work to do. “I should look after the children.” Hermione got up awkwardly. “Sometimes Hugo wakes up again around 11.“

Minerva accompanied her to the door. When she offered her hand at their good-bye, Hermione couldn’t help herself and hugged her firmly. She felt tons lighter than in the past weeks, and she was so grateful to Minerva that she had given her this chance. “Thank you for your time,” she whispered, feeling Minerva’s hot cheek on her own. “And for listening to me.”

Minerva didn’t say anything but she reciprocated the embrace before she opened the door for Hermione. “I’ll see you next Friday.”

Turning around, Hermione heard the wood in the fireplace collapse a second time.

Chapter 5: Shock

What I want to say is long said,
and what I want to do I don’t dare to do.
The big question remains unasked.
When the wolf sleeps all sheep have to rest.
(Element of Crime: „Wenn der Wolf schläft“ / “When the wolf sleeps”)

 

“You’re so different today, Hermione.“ Neville took two mugs of butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta and clinked glasses with Hermione. “Did anything happen I should know about?”

Hermione was glad her mug hid half of her face. “I think I’ve started settling in here,” she said evasively.

“Yes, I know what you mean.“ Neville wiped the foam from his upper lip. “It was hard for me too at first.” He pointed at Pomona Sprout who sat with Rolanda Hooch at the counter of The Three Broomsticks. “Pomona usually seems so good-natured, but she can be pretty strict with her trainees.”

“Don’t worry, Neville.“ Hermione gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “She’s very fond of her subject and she just wants it to be well taught.”

“Unlike McGonagall, you mean,” he scoffed. “Otherwise she would have fired Marius Mitch long ago.“ Neville grinned broadly when Pomona and Rolanda waved their hands to greet them. “You did the right thing when you insisted on teaching your own way. Mitch is a windbag, everybody knows that.” He leaned closer to Hermione. “What did you and Minerva talk about when she summoned you to her office?”

Hermione took a sip from her butterbeer before she responded. “She reprimanded me for undermining Marius’ authority in front of the staff,” she said with a shrug.

“Well.“ Neville cocked his head. “That’s one way to see it. Did you vow to do better next time?”

“What else am I to do? She’s the Headmistress.”

Neville laughed good-naturedly. “I know, we’re just trainee teachers. But one day we’ll have our degrees and will be free to teach however we want.”

“You do that, Neville. I am going to work at the ministry.“ Hermione involuntarily raised her head when the door of The Three Broomsticks opened. To her surprise Minerva and Filius entered the pub. Why had half of the staff decided to spend their evening in Hogsmeade?

Minerva seemed to hesitate, but Filius went straight up to their table and greeted the two trainees cordially as usual. “Minerva and I have to discuss some budget issues,” he said regretfully. “Otherwise we would join you.”

Minerva nodded, pointing at a table near the exit. “Yes, we need some quiet, but the evening is still young. Maybe you can join us later, if you like?”

Neville looked back and forth between Hermione and the Headmistress. “What happened to the two of you?” he whispered as soon as the two teachers had gone away. “Are you talking again all of a sudden?”

Embarrassed, Hermione wiped some crumbs from a notch in the table. “We had a disagreement,” she said lightly. “But we decided not to be affected by it any longer.”

Neville wiggled his eyebrows. “A disagreement?“ he asked curiously. “About what?”

“That’s… private.“ Hermione drew Neville’s attention to two older Slytherins who seemed to be in the middle of a drinking competition at the counter. It looked pretty ridiculous, but Neville didn’t seem to be interested.

“Private?“ he probed. “You had a private disagreement with Minerva McGonagall? I didn’t even know she has a private life.”

“No, it’s…“

“Oh, I know!“ He hit his forehead. “It’s about your private life, right? Molly is kind of friends with McGonagall and knows everything about your divorce.”

Hermione pushed the crumbs back into the notch. It was probably wiser not to contradict Neville. “Have you talked to Ron lately?” she tried another change of topic.

“No, but we want to see the Quidditch match London against Manchester next Sunday.” Neville ordered another butterbeer with a wave of his hand. It was already the third this evening, while Hermione was still nipping at her first. She didn’t tolerate alcohol very well and didn’t want to take any chances. “Harry and Ginny are coming with us, too,” he explained excitedly. “Would you like to join us? It would be like old times!”

“I’d love to, but I have to take care of the kids.“ As much as Hermione wanted to see her friends again, since she was a single mother she didn’t have time for things like that anymore. Rose and Hugo didn’t see her much during the week, and Hermione tried to make up for that by spending as much time as possible with them on the evenings and weekends. This evening with Neville was the big exception because Rose and Hugo were staying at Hagrid’s hut.

“Why don’t you take them to Molly?” Neville suggested. “They love to be at the Burrow.”

The idea was tempting, especially because Hugo had told Hermione several times how much he missed his grandparents. “Okay, I’ll think about it…” Hermione paused as she saw Minerva and Filius heading for their table again. Immediately, her pulse skyrocketed and she wiped the sweat from her hands on her robe. Had Minerva actually been serious earlier?

Minerva indeed told them they had finished their task earlier than expected. “Don’t you want to join us?” she asked, pointing at their table near the exit where Pomona Sprout and Rolanda Hooch had already sat down.

“Of course.“ Neville stood up before Hermione could say anything. “I want to ask Pomona a question about Flutterby bushes anyway.“

Contrary to her expectation, it turned out to be one of the funniest evenings Hermione had ever spent at Hogsmeade. Pomona Sprout was especially cheerful and told one anecdote after the other about her past schooldays at Hogwarts. Hermione hadn’t known that Pomona and Minerva had been in the same class back then and that they had developed an enduring friendship. Thus, Pomona seemed to know more about Minerva than any other person, aside from the departed Albus Dumbledore.

Hermione absorbed every comment like a sponge, and several times she couldn’t keep her gaze from drifting to Minerva. Since their last encounter Hermione couldn’t forget the moment when Minerva had opened her eyes and had looked at her. Words could never describe what she had seen in them. Sadness, fear, affection, but also an unexpected vulnerability that Hermione had never, not even in the darkest hours, seen on the Headmistress before.

The moment had been over so quickly that Hermione wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t imagined it. She had barely realized what had been happening when it had already been over. However, at that brief moment, there had been a connection between them that Hermione had never ever experienced with any other person. The scene had infiltrated her consciousness and she dreamed of it every night.

Minerva seemed to sense Hermione’s gaze for she raised her head every now and then, smiling at her. Each time, it went right through her, and Hermione wondered if she would ever stop reacting like that to Minerva McGonagall. It felt strange to sit at a table with all these people, knowing that she and Minerva shared a secret. While they both joked and laughed with the others, there was something between them nobody else could see or sense. Hermione had finally told her what had been in her heart for so long, and Minerva had listened to her.

It was still hard to say what the Headmistress was thinking about all that, but obviously she didn’t find it necessary to avoid Hermione anymore. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon for tea?” Minerva asked Hermione when they all left The Three Broomsticks. “You can bring the children with you if you like.”

“Rose and Hugo will be with Hagrid again.“ Hermione started to regret she had asked him to take care of her children. They would have been a good distraction and would have saved her from any awkwardness. “So it’s just me tomorrow.”

Neville and Hermione linked arms with Rolanda who had drunk a bit too much firewhiskey, and they all headed for the castle. “Well, the flying lesson with the First Years tomorrow will certainly be interesting,” Minerva scoffed. “Maybe you should get yourself a teacher trainee too, Rolanda.”

 

* * *

 

In the middle of the night, Hermione was rudely awakened by an explosive bang. Hugo must have woken up too because she heard him cry next door. Quickly, Hermione jumped out of her bed and ran to his room where Rose had already laid her arm around her little brother.

“What’s going on, Mummy?“ Hugo anxiously climbed on Hermione’s lap when they heard a second, even louder bang.

“I have no idea.” Hermione tried to locate the noise. It seemed to come from the castle, but from where exactly? It had sounded like an explosion but she couldn’t see anything in the dark outside. “Would you please take care of Hugo for a second?” Hermione turned to Rose. “I’d like to make sure nobody is injured.”

“I want to come with you, Mummy.“ Hugo clung to Hermione.

“That’s too dangerous, Sweetie.“ Hermione kissed his forehead and put him into Rose’s lap. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.“

Hugo eventually gave in and snuggled up against his older sister. “Be careful, Mum,” Rose pleaded as Hermione reached for her wand. “There might be another explosion.”

Hermione kissed her cheek and promised to be careful. Quickly, she put on her dressing gown and hurried to the fireplace in the living room to get into Hogwarts‘ kitchen. As soon as she entered the castle she could hear voices from everywhere. In the corridor, she bumped into Aurora Sinistra who was running towards the North Tower. “Do you know what happened?” Hermione shouted, while joining Aurora.

“There were several explosions,“ Horace Slughorn responded for Aurora. He breathed heavily in front of them. “Near the North Tower.”

The longer they ran, the more people appeared in the corridors. Teachers and students came running from all sides. “There’s a fire!” somebody shouted from the front. “The Headmistress’s office is burning!”

“The fire already reached this floor!“ someone else cried.

An iron ring clutched Hermione’s heart, taking her breath away. Where was Minerva? Neville ran past Hermione in his pajama, his wand pulled out and his mouth wide open. The closer they came to the fire, the sootier the air was. Eventually there was so much smoke around them that Hermione could barely see the gargoyle. Coughing, she searched for Minerva, but the Headmistress was nowhere to be seen. Filius Flitwick didn’t seem to be here either.

“Aguamenti!“ Neville shouted, and many students and teachers did the same. “Aguamenti!”, it sounded from everywhere, and dense water jets darted into the twitching flames.

“Aguamenti!“ Hermione fought her way to the gargoyle and aimed with her wand into the flames above her. “Aguamenti!“

Pomona and Horace joined her, and after a while they managed to force the fire back a bit. “Minerva!” Hermione shouted desperately and tried to climb onto the gargoyle. “Minerva!”

But Pomona and Horace pulled her back. “You can’t help her anymore,“ Pomona cried. “The whole tower is burning.“

“But maybe she’s still alive!“ Hermione broke free from them. “We have to find her!”

“Stupefy!“ Horace Slughorn’s charm hit Hermione in her back, yanking her to the ground. “I’m sorry, Hermione, but this would be sure to end in your death.” Horace bent down towards her and leaned her limp body against the sooty wall. “You better help us extinguish the fire.”

In sheer despair, Hermione plunged into the task. Meter by meter they all fought against the flames. “Take command here, Hermione!” Neville shouted over the heads of the students. “We are going to fly to the tower from outside in order to extinguish the fire from there!“

Hermione shouted commands into the crowd of students while most of the professors joined Neville. It took almost half an hour until the flames in their floor were finally extinguished. The tower and its corridors were black from the soot, and the ground was flooded with water. Hermione could hear Neville’s and Rolanda’s Aguamenti calls from above, which meant they had managed to get into the tower.

Concerned, Hogwarts’ students waded through the water and tried to pour it out of the windows with some buckets they had fetched with Accio charms from everywhere in the castle. There was an oppressive silence in the room when the extent of the damage became visible. Even the ghosts, who all had assembled to watch the spectacle, flew soundlessly and with concerned looks through the corridors. The Nearly Headless Nick had even forgotten to straighten his collar so that his head slackly hung down next to his shoulder while he floated between the pillars.

Hermione fell on her knees, overwhelmed by pain and grief. No. No. No! It couldn’t be true! It wasn’t fair! Was this the revenge for her feeling happy just once? For finally having dared to reveal something about herself? Fate just couldn’t let Minerva survive three wars to let her die in the fire now! Why was life so cruel?

She almost missed the quiet noise coming from one of the corridors behind her. Instinctively, she turned around and saw from the corner of her eye a tabby cat carefully skipping the puddles. When the cat came closer Hermione recognized the unique square pattern around her eyes. “Oh my God,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her hands. Was she getting insane now?

“Professor McGonagall!“ Now the students had discovered the cat, too. They ran towards the animal, but when the Headmistress suddenly stood in her human form in front of them, they pulled back respectfully.

Hermione leaned against the sooty wall, not able to make a sound. Like through a veil of haze she saw the Headmistress passing her with a worried look and stopping at the gargoyle’s stairs. They unwillingly jerked a bit, but then started moving grindingly and carried the Headmistress upwards to the remains of her office. Above, Hermione could hear the surprised calls of the professors after they had spotted their boss. Then it became quiet and only some muted voices were audible.

Hermione straightened up with difficulty. “The fire is completely extinguished,” she informed the students. “Thank you all for being such a big help. Your prefects will lead you back to your dorms now. We’ll let you know, if there are any news.”

There was an agitated murmuring when the crowd began to move. It was so loud that Hermione didn’t notice that the gargoyle carried one teacher after the other downwards again.

“That was close.” Hermione jumped when Neville stood next to her all of a sudden.

“Where’s Minerva?“ she asked immediately.

“She’s still upstairs, examining the damage.” Neville pointed at the ceiling with his wand. “There were two big explosions, one in the Headmistress’s office, and one in her private quarters.”

“Are you sure?“ Hermione paled, realizing what that meant.

“There’s no doubt, unfortunately.“ Neville showed her a small package. “And we‘ve found this, too.“

“Is this fire accelerant?“

“It sure looks like it.“

Hermione turned around when she heard the familiar grinding of the gargoyle once again. Shortly afterwards Minerva McGonagall appeared, her face serious and smeared with soot. “I’m afraid we’ll have to cancel our tea appointment tomorrow afternoon,” she said, stepping next to Hermione. “Are you alright?”

Was she alright?! Hermione looked at her, stunned. More than half an hour ago she had been sure Minerva was dead! Half of the north wing lay in ashes, all documents in the Headmistress’s office and Minerva’s personal belongings were lost forever, and Minerva was seriously asking her if she was okay?

“It’s not as bad as it looks.“ Minerva seemed to guess Hermione’s thoughts. “There’s a copy of each and everything upstairs.” She pointed at the ceiling. “The four founders of Hogwarts took care the school is prepared for incidences like this.”

“Really?“ Hermione shook her head in disbelief. This school was always good for a surprise.

“Does anybody know where Filius is?“ Pomona asked when she joined them.

“Shortly after we came back from Hogsmeade, he had to leave for Leeds because his aunt had a bad fall,” Minerva reported. “I guess he won’t be back before the morning.”

“Do you think the perpetrators knew that Filius was absent?” Pomona asked thoughtfully. “Maybe the time of the attack wasn’t a coincidence.”

“And where have you been, Minerva?“ Horace Slughorn asked reproachfully. “It’s three o’clock in the morning.”

Minerva sighed. “Whoever is responsible for this… attack, they obviously forgot that I’m an animagus and like to roam my territory at night.”

“Did you hear the explosions?“ asked Neville.

“Yes.“ Minerva picked up a carbonized necklace and freed it from the sooth. A student had probably lost it during the extinguishment. “I heard a distant bang, but I was so deep in the Forbidden Forest that I didn’t know where the noise came from. It was only when I left the Forest that I saw Hogwarts was burning.”

Hermione silently followed the conversation, not able to take her eyes off Minerva. She felt completely beaten and exhausted, but at the same time so happy that Minerva was alive. The Headmistress didn’t even have a scratch and was already busy giving her staff instructions for the rest of the night. Eventually, she turned around to Hermione. “You should try to sleep a few more hours,” she said sympathetically. “I will convene a staff conference tomorrow, and then we’ll see how to proceed.”

“And where will you sleep, Minerva?” Neville asked with concern.

“Minerva will stay with me until her quarters will be habitable again,” Pomona explained promptly. “We have lived together before, even though we were a bit younger at that time.” She winked at Minerva, and Hermione tried to imagine how the two witches had lived in their shared flat. It must have been a pretty unusual living community.

“Are you sure the danger is over, Minerva?“ Hermione knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink as long as the Headmistress wasn’t safe.

“No, I’m not, but at least we are warned now.” Minerva’s gaze wandered over the black walls. “It will take a while for us to get rid of the damage, but first we should all catch up on a couple of hours of sleep.”

Chapter 6: Orchids

Notes:

I can't say it enough: Many thanks to my amazing beta reader Roman!

I’ll lure you into the garden and throw flowers at you
until you fall down and capitulate.
If that’s a waste I don’t care.
Who is in love has no choice.
(Element of Crime: „Du hast die Wahl“ / “It’s your choice.”)

 

On the way back to her house, Hermione felt guilty about leaving her children alone for so long. But to her relief, both children were sleeping soundly when she stepped out of the fireplace. Rose had joined Hugo in his bed and he was snuggled deeply into her arms. Tenderly, Hermione adjusted the blanket and transfigured the chair next to Hugo’s bed into a couch. She would not leave her children alone anymore for the rest of the night.

As soon as she had lain down, the events of the night spun around in her head, and for a long time she tossed and turned on the couch. But eventually she must have fallen asleep because she was in the middle of a dream when Rose and Hugo began fighting over Rose’s cuddly bunny the next morning. “That’s Rose’s bunny,” Hermione murmured, half-asleep. “Your dog is at the footboard, Hugo.”

“Mum?“ Rose immediately let go of her little brother. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to be with you when you wake up.” Hermione rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Unfortunately, I was gone longer than I had thought last night.”

“What happened?“ Rose caught her bunny and climbed on the couch to her mother, followed by Hugo and his dog.

Hermione’s stomach involuntarily cramped at the memory of the flames. “A fire broke out in the Headmistress’s office. It spread so quickly that we had a great deal of difficulty extinguishing it.”

“Is Aunt Minerva injured?“ Hugo asked anxiously.

“No, she wasn’t in her quarters.“

“Did you help extinguish the fire, Mum?“ Rose’ eyes widened.

“Yes, that’s why it took me so long to come back.“ Hermione stroked her daughter’s head. “Many students and teachers helped.”

“Can we go there later, Mummy?” Hugo climbed on Hermione’s hip. “I want to see what it looks like now.”

Hermione gave her curious son a kiss. “If you put on gumboots we can go there before dinner. The Headmistress convened a meeting at 2 pm, so we can’t do it sooner.”

“Thank you, Mummy!” Hugo slipped down from her mother. I’m looking for my gumboots now!“

“Me too!“ Rose jumped up and ran after her brother.

Yawning, Hermione raised her arms in the air and sat up on her provisional couch. How was Minerva doing right now? Hopefully they had found some indications by now as to who could have perpetrated the attack. Who would do something like that? And why? There were of course still some scattered groups of Death Eaters in the underground, but why should they be after Hogwarts’ Headmistress of all people? And how were they supposed to get to Hogwarts’ grounds? Since the war against Voldemort the security measures had become even stricter than before.

Hermione was sure Minerva would do everything in her power to ensure the safety of the students and teachers, but she seemed to underestimate the danger she herself was in. Maybe Hermione should act on her own? Surely, Harry and Ron wouldn’t mind a little research at Hogwarts, and it would give Ron the chance to see his children again. The longer Hermione thought about the idea, the more she liked it.

 

* * *

 

After breakfast, the lessons crawled by at snail’s pace, and neither the students nor the teachers could actually concentrate. Each break was used to speculate about the attack and meanwhile the wildest rumors were flying around. Unlike normally, Hermione participated in the gossip, hoping to learn any new detail. But by noon facts and fiction were already indistinguishable, so Hermione had no choice but wait for the upcoming staff meeting.

“Isn’t it true that Hogwarts informs its Headmistress about every person entering the school grounds?” Neville asked a few hours later at the staff meeting.

“That’s true,“ Minerva confirmed. “Nobody can enter the grounds without my knowledge.“

“Is there no exception?“ Horace Slughorn nervously stroked his bald head when Minerva shook her head. “And what is your conclusion on this?”

“That the perpetrator, or the perpetrators, live or at least work at Hogwarts.” Minerva took her glasses off her nose and put them on the table. “Or do you have a better explanation, Horace?”

The professor looked at the tabletop with embarrassment. “So you’re suspecting one of us?”

“It could also have been a student,“ Neville tossed in.

“Whoever it is, we’re all in great danger,“ Sybill Trelawney warned. “Pluto and Mars will enter a special constellation tonight, and that always means…”

“I found myself forced to inform the ministry,” Minerva declared as if she hadn’t heard Sybill. “The Minister will arrive at Hogwarts at seven o’clock in the evening, and he will be accompanied by five members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If they ask you any questions, please answer them as precisely as possible. The more knowledge we give them the faster the matter will be cleared up.”

After everybody assured their cooperation, they went to the next item on the agenda: the restoration measures in the north wing. Minerva assumed it would take at least two weeks until the tower would be restored enough to be used again.

The third and last topic was about the safety measures for the students and teachers, but it quickly became clear that they could only make preliminary decisions. Minerva would have to coordinate all measures with Kingsley Shacklebolt and his staff, so she announced a continuation of the meeting for the following day where this matter should be discussed more thoroughly. “Hermione, do you have a second?” she asked after she had closed the meeting.

Hermione who was already on her way to the door turned around again. “Of course,” she responded, her heart missing a beat. Had she done something wrong again? She deliberately had held back this time. “Is anything wrong?“

Minerva smiled. “Since we had to cancel our teatime, I wanted to ask you if you might be interested in a walk. Only if there isn’t anything else you have to do, of course.”

“Oh,“ Hermione stammered. Minerva wanted to stick to the original date? She certainly had more important things to do than going on a walk with Hermione. “Hugo and Rose are still at Hagrid’s,” she said against her better judgment. “I didn’t know how long the staff meeting would last, so I asked him to bring them to daycare if I wasn’t back in an hour. They can stay there for another hour and a half, then I would have to pick them up,” she mused aloud. “Are you sure you can be away from Hogwarts for a while?”

Minerva opened the door for Hermione. “Filius can cover for me if something comes up. So how about in half an hour down by the lake?”

“Okay, I’ll be there.” Hermione hastily said good-bye and ran through the corridors towards the kitchen as fast as possible. If she wanted to freshen up before the walk she had to hurry up.

But as soon as she was in the shower, she started to have serious doubts about the venture. “Why did I agree to this?” she sighed while the water was raining down on her. Had she lost her mind? Had she actually forgotten that she had spent the last seven years avoiding Minerva as much as possible? It couldn’t be wise to voluntarily spend more time with her now, on the contrary.

There had been moments in her schooldays when she could hardly bear seeing her Head of House every day, and only when she had left school and had married Ron, the pain finally subsided. She had spent several happy years with Ron, even though she couldn’t feel the same passion for him as she had for Minerva. But at least this love was allowed, even expected, and above all, reciprocated, and for a while Hermione had believed everything would be fine.

But in the end the agonizing pain in her heart had never left and had contributed to the fact that she had increasingly found fault with Ron. The only escape had been her work and she had plunged into her studies as if it was a healing potion. Indeed, the distraction had helped, and Hermione had felt better, eventually. The problem only reappeared when she had to decide at which school she would complete her teacher training.

But unlike before, Minerva knew about Hermione’s feelings now. And she had finally stopped acting as if she wasn't there. The question however was, did this really make things better? Wasn’t it even more important that Hermione took care of her wounded heart now? And yet she was standing in the shower and couldn’t wait to take a walk with Minerva.

Hermione scrubbed her body dry with her towel as if it could bring her to her senses. There was no way out anymore anyway. The Headmistress was probably already waiting at the lake and Hermione had to hurry. Some make-up and a subtle perfume, then she left the house, dressed for the outing, in some washed out jeans and a white blouse.

Hermione’s hands were sweaty and her heart was pounding violently in her chest when she ran down the narrow path to the lake. Would she be able to utter any reasonably coherent sentences? What was she supposed to talk about with Minerva? And why had the Headmistress suggested the walk anyway? The more time Hermione spent with her, the more mysterious it seemed what was actually going on inside of Minerva. Had she invited her to show her she didn’t avoid her anymore, or was Minerva actually interested in spending time with her?

“Ah, you thought of sturdy shoes.“ Minerva greeted her with a smile when Hermione arrived at the lake, still out of breath. “That’s good because I was thinking about a walk at the shore.” She pointed at a path barely visible behind the rocks.

“That’s one of my favorite walks,“ Hermione confessed, moving next to Minerva.

“Really?“ Minerva looked at her with surprise. “I thought I was the only one.”

Hermione laughed. Did the Headmistress actually believe her students would always stick to the rules and never leave the school grounds? “I had already taken a walk here with Harry and Ron in my first year,” she explained. “Do you know the field of orchids near to the small forest area?”

“That’s exactly where I wanted to go with you.” Minerva seemed almost embarrassed. “Now the surprise is spoiled.”

“It’s a wonderful idea,“ Hermione assured her, wondering if Minerva was aware how romantic the walk to the orchid field was. The first part of the walk was a bit difficult because they had to navigate a rocky area, but behind it a narrow, well-accessible path opened up which ran closely along the shore.

Minerva had already climbed the first stones, and Hermione hurried to follow her. “Is the ministry letting us leave the school grounds without further safety precautions?” she asked, climbing over the rocks. Fortunately, it was only a short distance to traverse, and the shore path was already visible.

Minerva didn’t respond before she had reached the path at the shore. “Probably not after my conversation with the Minister,” she said out of breath, brushing the dust from her clothes. “But we still have some time.”

“So you just wanted to enjoy your freedom?” Hermione teased but Minerva stayed serious.

”We have some hard days ahead of us,“ she prophesized gloomily. “Thus, a walk in nature is just the thing, don’t you think?”

“Yes, definitely.“ Hermione still found it strange Minerva had invited her to join her. Maybe there was something on the Headmistress’s mind?

For a while they walked next to each other without saying anything, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere around them. The autumn sun shone softly on their faces, and they could hear the rustling of the trees around them, the humming of insects, and the soft lapping of the water. The quietness and tranquility that radiated this area stood in stark contrast to the noise of the students on Hogwarts’ grounds.

“I’m so glad you didn’t get hurt during the attack,” Hermione interrupted the silence. “It was terrible to see the flames.”

Minerva nodded sadly. “I’m sorry I worried you.“

“I wasn’t the only one.“ Hermione shuddered at the memory of the sea of flames. “Many students started to pray.”

“Really?“ Minerva seemed genuinely surprised. Apparently she hadn’t realized that not only the teachers but also the students had been very worried about her.

“Did I mention my father was a Presbyterian minister?” Minerva asked suddenly.

Hermione almost tripped over her own feet. Had she heard wrongly, or had Minerva just revealed a personal detail of her life? “No, I didn’t know that,” she responded, thinking about the information. The idea that Minerva had been raised in a presbytery at the beginning of the 20th century explained a lot about her character.

“He was a deeply religious person,“ Minerva continued. “And we had a very strict upbringing.”

Hermione dared a glance to the side. Why was Minerva telling her this? Hermione had read in a magazine years ago that Minerva’s father had been a Muggle, but it was the only detail ever published about him. Hermione doubted anyone knew about Minerva’s family background, except maybe Albus Dumbledore or Pomona Sprout. “And your mother?” she asked, trying to sound as if it was completely normal to talk about these things with Minerva.

“My mother was a very gifted witch who tried to live up to my father’s expectations.” Minerva stopped and let her gaze wander over the glittering water. “Which didn’t work out, by the way.”

“He didn’t know she was a witch, did he?” Hermione had often wondered how many unhappy relationships could have been avoided if it wasn’t for the Wizarding Statute of Secrecy. And what would have happened if Minerva hadn’t appeared at the Grangers’ house one day and had informed her parents that their daughter had magical abilities? Probably, Hermione would have fallen mad sooner or later, like so many other witches who hadn’t been allowed to act out their magic.

“No.“ Minerva blinked in the afternoon sun. “You know the law.”

Hermione wondered what Minerva had meant by saying her mother didn’t succeed living up to her husband’s expectations. “Did your parents get a divorce?”

“No, but they were unhappy.“

“That doesn’t exactly encourage a child to be optimistic about a relationship.” It suddenly dawned on Hermione why Minerva was telling her these things. It was a request for understanding, and an approach to explain to her why she had so brusquely rejected Hermione during her job interview.

“It was very important to my father to educate his children to be good, God-fearing people, and he demanded the same from his wife.” Minerva bent down as a stone caught her eye that looked like a small fossil. In fact, a snail-like form appeared in the rock, apparently the remnant from a cephalopod that had lived millions of years ago. “It looks like an ammonite, don’t you think?” Minerva gave Hermione the stone.

Hermione looked fascinated at the simple beauty of the fossil. How fleeting human life was compared to these eternities. All of a sudden, she was very glad to be alive. Every day was so precious, and she didn’t want to deal with things anymore that weren’t important at all. But it was difficult not to get lost in everyday stuff or hang on to false ideals. What good had it been for Minerva’s father educating his children to be God-fearing people? An unhappy marriage and family life where there hadn’t been a place for needs or longings or passion. “Did you ever have a relationship with a woman?” Hermione asked, realizing too late that she had uttered the words aloud.

Minerva was visibly startled. “Of course not.“

“You were married once, weren’t you?“ Hermione gave the ammonite back to Minerva. “I read about it somewhere.”

“One time engaged, and one time married,” Minerva confirmed. “But that was a long time ago.”

Hermione was annoyed by her own jealousy instantly rising in her. Even though these relationships had been long ago, the fact alone that somebody had been closer to Minerva than she would ever be, gave her a painful sting. “That’s not written anywhere in your biographies,” she said, trying to keep up the conversation.

“It isn’t anyone’s business.“ Minerva raised her eyes as a seagull flew just over her head. The seagull started to circle over the sea, and then plunged headfirst into the water, only to reappear seconds later with a silver fish in its beak.

“When were you engaged?“ Hermione asked, much too curious to let the conversation end at this point.

“I was very young.“ Minerva smiled pensively. “And very much in love.“

Hermione decided it was simply too ridiculous being jealous of a person Minerva had known in her youth. Instead, she should be happy Minerva had been with a person she had loved. It was something precious, and if anyone deserved it, it was Minerva McGonagall. “And why didn’t you get married?”

Minerva hesitated. “He was a Muggle… I would have had to lie to him for the rest of my life, just like my mother had lied to my father. So I left him.”

“Oh.“ Hermione looked at Minerva in horror. “What a terrible situation. That must have been very difficult for you.”

The path in front of them narrowed, and Minerva bent a willow branch aside until Hermione had passed the narrow spot, too. “Like I said, it was a long time ago,” she said eventually.

“And when did you get married?“

“Several years later. I had known Elphinstone Urquart much earlier though, when I had worked at the ministry.” At her last words, a butterfly, a painted lady, settled on her shoulder. It only paused a few seconds, then it fluttered to Hermione’s shoulder and finally away. “Three years later he died in an accident with a poisonous plant,” Minerva added, looking after the butterfly. It flew in front of them for a while and then disappeared between the trees.

“That’s cruel.“ It made Hermione’s heart hurt knowing that Minerva had been happy only for such a short time. “How long ago was that?”

“More than twenty years ago.“

“And you never married again?“

“No.“ Minerva cleared her throat. “After that I decided to devote myself to my work. There’s still so much to do in my field, as you certainly know.”

Hermione tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. “Does that mean you haven’t been in a relationship since?”

“No.“

They took a much narrower path now that led them away from the shore and into the woods. Only a few minutes later they reached the edge of the orchid field and Minerva headed purposefully to the small hill from where they would have the best view.

“Wow!” Hermione inhaled deeply as she looked over the blooming meadow. Blue, violet, white and pink blossoms were swaying in the wind as if they were moving to an inaudible, soft melody.

“Yes.“ Minerva stopped next to Hermione and with moist eyes she let her gaze wander over the orchid field.

Hermione couldn’t get Minerva’s words out of her head. Had the past events been the reason for the careful distance the Headmistress usually kept? Had she not wanted to let people in after that? “What about Albus Dumbledore?” she asked cautiously. “There were always rumors…”

“We were very good friends,“ Minerva explained simply. “And we never wanted to be anything else. Albus was gay.”

“W-what?“ In shock, Hermione almost stepped into a rabbit hole.

“Only a few people knew about it.“ Minerva smiled wistfully at the memory of her close friend. “Albus never revealed much about himself. He had many secrets the world will never know about. This was one of them.”

Hermione brushed a strand from her forehead the wind had blown in her face. “So after your husband’s death you decided to never get involved in a relationship again?” she asked, just to be sure.

“Yes.“

“And you’ve never been tempted since then?“

“No.“

A heavy weight lay down on Hermione’s chest, preventing her from breathing. She felt like crying, but this time it wasn’t her pain but Minerva’s. How could somebody be so strong who had received so little from life? More than anyone else Minerva deserved happiness and peace. “What about me?” she asked almost inaudible. “Am I a temptation?“

Minerva didn’t respond, but her silence spoke volumes. Overwhelmed by a wave of tenderness, Hermione turned around and caught Minerva’s gaze. There was something in her eyes that made Hermione’s heart swell. What she wouldn’t give to touch the beautiful face just once. To kiss the red lips. In desperation, Hermione raised her gaze towards the sky, not able to say anything.

For a long time they stood side by side, until Hermione, overcome by a sudden impulse, bent down and picked up a violet orchid. It had full, magnificent blossoms with numerous buds which would open in the next few days. Hermione freed the flower from the dirt and gave it to Minerva.

For a quick moment she was afraid Minerva would reject the orchid, but then the Headmistress stretched out her hand and took the flower. She didn’t look at Hermione, but that wasn’t necessary. Hermione’s heart was still so full that it threatened to burst any moment.

 

* * *

 

On the way back, Hermione was so stirred up that she could barely focus in their conversation. She deliberately talked about professional topics, and Minerva answered her questions about her upcoming lesson willingly. “I always worry it will come to animal cruelty if the students fail to transform something,” she confessed. “Especially when the students have to transform objects to mammals, something almost always goes wrong.”

“And you should never get rid of that worry,“ Minerva nodded. “We should never lose respect for nature, just because we have the ability to transform objects into something else. In the end, every matter serves its purpose, and every manipulation should only happen under great care.”

“That’s exactly the problem,“ Hermione said eagerly. “Not every student is careful enough, and I can’t keep an eye on thirty people all at once.”

“That’s just a question of training and experience.“ Minerva’s eyes followed the painted lady that had already accompanied them on the way there. This time it fluttered alongside them for a while before it disappeared into the woods again. “But I would only teach such a complex topic after I made sure all students knew what they’re doing.”

“Are you saying it’s too early for my lesson?” Hermione asked, disappointed. She already had worked out so many great ideas and couldn’t wait to try them out in the classroom.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.“ The orchid in Minerva’s had fluttered softly when a gust of wind blew from the water. “Teaching means to meet the students where they are, and not to expect too much or too little of them, in order to follow through with your plan.”

Hermione frowned. How in heaven’s name did Minerva manage to be so serene about these things? Was it just decades of life experience, or did Hermione do something wrong? “So I should prepare the student better for the upcoming lesson?” she conceded reluctantly. “Do you think we will even have regular lessons the next days?”

Minerva smiled when she heard the impatience in Hermione’s voice. “I won’t be able to make that decision before my appointment with Kingsley.”

“Aren’t you worried because somebody at Hogwarts seems trying to end your life?” Hermione asked, upset. “Everybody is a suspect now.”

Minerva’s expression darkened. “Yes, it does worry me, but I learned that it does not do any good to suspect everyone. As soon as we stop trusting each other, we lose our most valuable asset.”

“That's a dangerous point of view in this case,” Hermione warned. “Everything is possible right now.”

Minerva obviously thought her worries were exaggerated. “Don’t let this trouble you,” she assured her. “I will work out a security concept with the ministry today which we will implement immediately.”

They had reached the end of the shore path by now and had to climb over the rocks again to get back to Hogwarts‘ grounds. It was amazing how easily Minerva climbed over the stones, and not for the first time she reminded Hermione of a cat even in her human form.

Hermione looked at her so fascinated that she almost didn’t see the dark shadow on the cliff above. Even before she understood what she was doing she had already pulled out her wand. “Reducto!”

A huge boulder that was falling from the cliff, burst into a thousand pieces in mid-air. At the same moment Hermione threw herself on Minerva, moaning in pain when they fell on the ground and sharp stones and dust grains rained down on them.

“Are you crazy?“ Minerva freed herself from Hermione’s grip. “If your spell hadn’t worked, the rock wouldn’t have only buried me, but you as well!”

“I didn’t think.“ Hermione struggled to her feet. The dense dust cloud made it almost impossible to breathe.

Minerva pulled out her wand, watching the cliff edge above them. Apparently she had discovered something Hermione hadn’t seen. “Take cover,” she ordered Hermione, who immediately pressed herself against the rocky wall.

For several minutes, Minerva aimed at a point close to the cliff edge, then she lowered her wand. “If I blast the edge, the avalanche will bury us.” Her nostrils flared with anger.

“Did you see anything?“ Hermione brushed the dust from her clothes. Her eyes teared up from the dusty air, and little stones had gotten caught in her hair.

Minerva put her wand back under her robe. “I saw two people, but I may be wrong considering the distance.” She leant against the rock face next to Hermione. “Why didn’t I notice the danger?” she asked angrily. “I can usually rely on my instincts.”

Hermione silently looked at the spot where Minerva had noticed the two people. She couldn’t see anything in the distance and wondered why on earth Minerva wore glasses when the cat in her could see better than a young adult.

“I was distracted.” Minerva shook her head about herself. ”This can’t happen again.” She went to the spot where the boulders had rained upon them just minutes ago and buried her hands in the pile of rubble and ashes. Hermione was just wondering what she was doing over there when Minerva pulled the small orchid out of the rubble. The flower was covered with a thick, grey layer of dust, but the blossoms seemed to have survived. With a tiny move of her wand Minerva freed the orchid from the dust and took it back to her.

Hermione felt such tenderness for her that she had to hold on to the rock face to keep herself from doing something stupid. “Let’s go home,” she said softly.

Minerva nodded mutely and walked back to her. “You saved my life, Hermione.” She brushed a black tear from Hermione’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Hermione wanted to flee with Minerva to some unknown place. They had been lucky this time, but for how much longer? “Promise me, you will be careful,” she pleaded.

Minerva took her hand and squeezed it. “I promise.”

Hermione leaned forward, closer to Minerva’s lips, but the Headmistress took a step back. “Your children are waiting for you, Hermione.”

Chapter 7: Hope

Notes:

I am really sorry it took me so long to post the next chapter. At least I finished the translation of the story and my beta-reader is back from her vacation, so I I'm optimistic I can post the next chapters a lot quicker. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 7: Hope

 

Let me know, if you love me.
(Element of Crime: „Delmenhorst“)

 

The two childcare workers greeted Hermione with a grim face when she picked up her children 15 minutes late. Rose and Hugo sat on the floor alone, a pile of toys around them, and waited for their mother. “What happened, Mum?” Rose asked, alarmed, when Hermione appeared in the door. “Did you crawl through a chimney?“

“I took a walk with the Headmistress.“ Hermione apologized to the care workers for her delay. Their faces were a bit kinder now since it was obvious something had come up. Hermione quickly cleared away the toys with her children so that the two witches could finally go home.

“Are we going to the Headmistress‘s office now?” Hugo urged as soon as they got home. He seemed to have waited the entire day for this moment and was already wearing his gumboots which were still two sizes too big for him. Stalking through the room, he made wild movements as if he was extinguishing a huge fire and looked at his mother expectantly. “You promised us”, he reminded her just in case she had forgotten.

“All right,“ Hermione sighed. “But I need to take a shower first.“

Considering the events of the last hours, Hermione definitely wished for some time alone but her kids had been waiting too long for her. So she showered as quickly as possible and only minutes later they left for the north wing.

The water used to fight the fire was no longer flooding the corridors, but the walls were still wet and looked just as sooty as the night before. By daylight the extent of the damage was even more visible and the almost black gargoyle was an especially sad sight.

“May we see the Headmistress’s office too?” Hugo stomped through the corridors in his too large rubber boots and looked closely at everything.

“Aunt Minerva certainly wouldn’t allow that,“ Rose answered for her mother. “Right, Mum?”

“Yes, that’s right, Rose. The area is completely closed off…” Hermione paused when she suddenly heard a dull noise from above. Was there anybody in the Headmistress’s office? “Hide behind the pillar,” she whispered to her kids and snuck, wand in her hand, to the gargoyle, which had started to move upwards.

Hermione stood protectively in front of her children as the gargoyle stopped above to move down again with a groaning noise.

All of a sudden she heard a familiar voice. “Hermione?”

“Harry?” Hermione lowered her wand. “What are you doing here?“

“Uncle Harry!“ Rose and Hugo immediately came out from behind the pillar and rushed towards Harry Potter.

“You two have grown again,“ Harry laughed, reciprocating the children’s bear hug. Then he turned to Hermione and embraced her, too. “Ron is here as well,” he explained, pointing upwards. “We have order to look for traces in McGonagall’s quarters.”

“Daddy is here, too?” Rose jumped up and down in excitement. “May we go upwards now, Mum?”

“No, I told you it’s too dangerous.” Hermione gently held Rose’s arm. “I’m sure Daddy will come down soon.“

“It’s not a nice sight up there.” Harry let his wand disappear under his robes. “Most of the portraits look awful.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.“ Hermione couldn’t imagine Hogwarts without its Headmaster portraits. They were part of the school’s soul and who hurt them, hit Hogwarts in the core.

“As by a miracle, a few portraits were luckily spared,” Harry reported, who noticed Hermione’s dejection. “Dumbledore’s for instance. The others will certainly take weeks to restore.”

“Are the portraits dead or something?“ Rose asked in horror.

“No.“ Harry kneeled down in front of her, patting her arm. “As far as we know, all headmasters and headmistresses got to safety in time. They’re somewhere else right now.”

“Do you think any of them stayed long enough to be questioned as a witness?” Hermione wondered if Minerva had already talked to them when she had examined her office last night. Strangely enough, she hadn’t said a word about it.

“Dumbledore was the only one who stayed.“ Harry smiled wistfully. It was still difficult for him to talk to the portrait of his former mentor. “He couldn’t see the assassins from his perspective, though. But he heard the voices of two young men.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. That information coincided with Minerva’s observation on their walk, but she didn’t want to tell Harry about that in front of the children. “Do you think they were Hogwarts students?” she asked instead.

Again, the scraping of the gargoyle interrupted their conversation. “Daddy!” Hugo almost stumbled over his too big rubber boots when he ran towards the gargoyle. “Daddy!”

“Hey, young man!“ Ron lifted his son up as Rose threw herself into Ron’s arms, beaming with delight.

“Hello, Ron.” Hermione gave him an awkward hug after his children had released him. “Are you the aurors who have an appointment with the Headmistress?”

“Yes, it’s us and three other guys. “ Ron seemed to almost burst with pride. “That’s why we don’t have much time. The meeting with McGonagall starts in ten minutes.”

Harry scratched his head. “I don’t know, Hermione. As soon as you’re back here, strange things happen again.”

“True,“ Ron grinned. “It’s almost like old times.“

“Usually every disaster happened because of you.” Hermione poked her index finger into Harry’s chest. “Ron and I were only there because we were your friends, and we had your back.”

Harry laughed, a little embarrassed. “At least it looks like we don’t have to deal with Death Eaters this time.”

“We shouldn’t tell you that, but…” Ron lowered his voice. “It actually indicates that the perpetrators were Hogwarts students. We will talk to McGonagall about what we have found out so far. I bet they were Slytherins.”

Hermione stared gloomily at the charred walls in the corridor. She didn't like the idea at all that the assassins might be sitting in her own classroom. “Have you found a motive yet?”

“No.“ Harry shook his head. “And we really have to leave now. Otherwise McGonagall will start the meeting without us.”

Hermione wished she could attend the meeting but she wasn’t allowed to, and unfortunately, she couldn’t turn into a beetle like Rita Skeeter in order to overhear the conversation. What in the world could induce two students to seek the life of their Headmistress?

“Will we see Daddy again later?” asked Hugo, who clung to Hermione’s leg.

“If you won’t be in bed by then he certainly will come to see you after the meeting,” Hermione assured him, taking her children’s hands. “But now we’ll go home, and you will clean up your rooms.”

 

* * *

 

After the kids had taken care of their rooms, Ron actually came by and reported that he, Harry and several other ministry employees were staying at Hogwarts for the time being to ensure the safety of teachers and students. In addition, guards had been deployed, who now strolled up and down the corridors day and night. “How about I stay with you overnight?” Ron suggested. “Parts of the north wing are still uninhabitable so that we have to take a room in Hogsmeade anyway. If I stay with you I’ll have a direct connection to Hogwarts’ kitchen, plus I can see our kids more often.” He grinned when Rose and Hugo immediately started to cheer.

Hermione darted an angry glance at him. She didn’t like that he had made his suggestion in front of the children. Of course Rose and Hugo would agree immediately, and how could Hermione reject him now? “First, you would have to register before you can use the fireplace of Hogwarts’ kitchen,” she objected. “When you have finally passed the procedure, the perpetrators will already be caught.”

“You forget that I’m an auror.“ Ron smiled in triumph. “I registered already.”

Hermione shook her head with a frown. “What do you want from me, Ron?” she whispered to him. “Do you want to sleep in my bedroom?”

“Come on, it’s only for a few days.“ Ron obviously didn’t see the slightest problem. “We’ve slept in the same bed for so many years. We’ll manage, don’t you think?”

“Yessss“, Rose and Hugo shouted and Hermione took a resigned glance at the ceiling.

“We’re giving the kids false hope,” she whispered so quietly that Rose and Hugo couldn’t hear them. “That’s the wrong signal.”

Ron looked at her in surprise. “Listen, little rascals,“ he said aloud as Rose climbed on his left and Hugo on his right thigh. “Your Mummy and I are friends now. If I live with you for a while, it doesn’t mean that we’re a couple again, do you understand?”

Instead of an answer the kids snuggled against him, looking at Hermione with big eyes. “All right,” Hermione sighed. “Get your stuff, Ron.”

As soon as she had said the words, she started to regret them. It wouldn’t even take a day for them to quarrel again. She knew it was better for them to keep a certain distance, even though they were about to become friends again.

The children refused to go to bed that day; they rather wanted to play all night with their father. Hermione had been lying in her bed long since when Ron, three bedtime stories later, appeared in her bedroom. “They’re finally asleep.” He yawned loudly as he lay down next to her.

Hermione turned to the other side, trying to imagine she was the only one in her bed. Ron was one of the rare people who used to fall asleep as soon as they had lain down, and only minutes later Hermione heard his familiar breathing sounds next to her. It felt so wrong that Ron was here, especially today, after the walk with Minerva.

After midnight, Hermione still lay awake in her bed. Like an endless roundabout her thoughts were twirling in her head. First the explosion and her mourning of Minerva, then the fight against the flames and the relief when Minerva suddenly appeared in the corridor. Then the walk at the shore and perhaps the happiest moment in Hermione’s entire life in the orchid field. And suddenly another attack on Minerva that had almost cost both of them their lives. How was she supposed to sleep with all these thoughts on her mind?

Hermione thought of the moment when Minerva had received her orchid. She hadn’t answered Hermione’s question, and yet this gesture had changed everything. Everything and nothing.

Minerva had made it quite clear she had decided against another relationship decades ago, and apparently she had seen no reason to doubt her decision in the least yet. But even though Minerva hadn’t given her the slightest hint she might change her mind, Hermione couldn’t stop hoping.

For the very first time, Minerva had indicated she cared about Hermione. And she hadn’t objected when Hermione had asked her whether she felt attracted to her. And she had dug out the orchid with great care after it had been buried by stones. Weren’t these reasons enough for hope? Even though Minerva might never be ready for a relationship, it filled Hermione’s heart with great joy that perhaps the Headmistress’s feelings weren’t as platonic as she had pretended so far.

Did Minerva regret their walk already? She probably didn’t have time to think about anything else than Hogwarts’ safety, the meeting with the ministry had lasted until late in the evening.

Hermione felt such an urge to leave her bed and look after Minerva that she had trouble lying down. It was absolutely ridiculous. First, Minerva wasn’t even in her quarters but in Pomona Sprout’s rooms, and secondly, she would certainly regret their walk together if Hermione started to stalk her now.

With a sigh, Hermione stared into the darkness. Why couldn’t she focus on more important things? The restoration of the north wing for which she had volunteered, or the preparation of her upcoming lesson, or dealing with the attacks? Why was Minerva the only thing on her mind? Her intelligent face, her deep green eyes, her dark, thick hair waiting to be freed of its prison… Hermione buried her face in her pillow. No, she had to stop this! She had barely slept the night before, and when she went on like this she would soon fall asleep in her own classroom.

Despite her attempts to banish the thoughts from her head, it wasn’t until the morning hours that Hermione finally fell into a restless sleep.

 

* * *

 

The following morning, Minerva McGonagall gave a short speech in the Great Hall during breakfast. She informed all residents of Hogwarts, including the house elves and ghosts, about the new safety precautions and told all students only to walk through the corridors in groups. Nobody was allowed to leave the school grounds without being accompanied by a teacher, the trips to Hogsmeade had been cancelled until further notice, and curfew had been advanced to 8 o’clock in the evening. “I’m aware this will temporarily restrict your personal liberty,” Minerva explained to the students. “But as long as we don’t know the perpetrators’ intention, the safety of each and every one is at risk.”

“There will be another meeting this evening,” Marius Mitch groaned as he ate his scrambled eggs next to Hermione. “I’m wondering when we’re supposed to prepare our lessons.”

Hermione held herself back from saying that he didn’t prepare his lessons anyway. “The Headmistress’s safety should come first, don’t you think?” she said instead, not even trying to sound kindly.

“Of course, but hopefully all this fuss will end soon,” Marius mumbled, his mouth full. “Those guards spread a threatening atmosphere.” He pointed with his fork at the two guards at the door.

“The better we work together, the quicker the fuss, as you call it, will end.” Hermione disgruntledly sipped at her pumpkin juice. The reaction of some professors to necessary safety measures spoiled her appetite. Weren’t teachers supposed to be role models?

Fortunately, Rolanda Hooch leaped to her defense. “I hope the ministry gets on well with its research,” she said while she snatched a plate of ham from under his nose. “I don’t know about you, Marius, but I really want to know who is capable of these assaults.”

Hermione dart a grateful glance at Rolanda. “Maybe you would think differently if you had been the target of the attacks,” she turned back to Marius.

”Yeah, maybe.“ Marius glanced at his watch to demonstrate how busy he was. “But if the safety measures have to be this high, it would have been better to cancel the lessons completely until we have better teaching conditions again.”

“You can bring your suggestion to the meeting tonight,” Rolanda responded coolly. “I’m curious what the Headmistress will think of your idea.”

Hermione wanted to tell her mentor she was ready to take care of the lessons if he considered them so unsuitable. But in the face of being reprimanded in Minerva’s office the other day, she decided it was better to be patient. Only a few more days, then she would be allowed to give some lessons on her own. If she started an argument with Marius now, it would not only be inapt, but foolish.

Nevertheless, he was right that the atmosphere at Hogwarts had changed noticeably. The students didn’t storm through the corridors anymore but behaved restrained and cautiously. Even in the classroom they seemed anxious and distracted.

“The students are terribly unfocused,“ Neville reported at the teacher conference in the evening. “Mr. Singer was so distracted by a movement under the table that he didn’t put on his headphones properly while repotting the Mandrakes. We had to take him to the hospital wing immediately. And Miss Humphrey was so frightened at a portrait’s movement that she got stuck in the Grand Staircase. It took us a quarter of an hour to release her.”

Several other professors agreed to Neville’s complaint, and Minerva had to ask for silence twice until she was heard. “It is a difficult situation,” she admitted. “But we should not only exercise caution, but radiate calmness as well.”

“Is it true that there has been a second attack on you, Minerva?“ Horace Slughorn asked with a worried expression.

“I knew it!” Sybill Trewlaney said dramatically. “The constellation of Pluto and Mars predicted it, and more disaster will certainly follow. And we won’t…”

“Your information is correct, Professor Slughorn,“ Harry confirmed. “There was indeed a second attack, which is why we are more or less certain now that the perpetrators are only after Professor McGonagall.”

“Yet we can’t exclude that other inhabitants of Hogwarts are still in danger as well,” Ron added. “And without more facts the security precautions for all inhabitants have to be maintained.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if the Headmistress leaves Hogwarts until the crimes are solved?” Hermione blushed as all eyes turned to her. But was she supposed to say nothing, just because she was the little trainee here? This was about Minerva’s life after all. “No one can guarantee one hundred percent for your safety,” she added, turning to Minerva. “We shouldn’t wait for the perpetrators to attack a third time.”

Minerva shook her head. “You still have much to learn, Hermione,“ she said calmly. “Teaching is a lot more than just imparting the subject matter. It’s also about what message we send as teachers.” She skimmed through the pages of the documents the ministry had provided her. “The perpetrators are probably students. What message would we send, if we let ourselves be intimidated by their deeds? Only that it is possible to achieve something with violence.”

The attendees had become quiet but Hermione was not deterred by it. “Are you saying that this pedagogical message is more important than your life?” she asked pointedly.

“Hermione…“ Neville reassuringly laid his hand on her arm, but Hermione shook it off. She wouldn’t give in before she had an answer to her question.

For a while the two women stared at each other, until Harry cleared his throat. “Maybe we should gather what we found out,” he suggested.

Hermione dart an angry glance at him. Why didn’t he support her? It was obvious that Minerva’s life was still in danger! Shouldn’t that be first priority?

Harry discreetly raised his eyebrows when he noticed Hermione’s expression. “Knowing you, Hermione, you always want to know all the facts first, don’t you?” he said, and the friendly warning behind his words was not to be missed.

“Of course”, she eventually softened her tone and let him take charge.

“Because of the fire, we found hardly any traces after the first attack, and the portraits weren’t able to tell us much either. The second attack, however, brought us a little further,” Harry explained to the professors. “The second attack happened near the lake - a boulder was thrown down on the Headmistress, and our colleagues have examined the crime scene for evidence in the last few hours.” He reached for the top sheet of the pile in front of him. “We identified the tread soles of two males. One of the assassins probably wore size 9, the other one size 8 ½. We assume that they’re both Hogwarts students.”

“It’s very likely the shoes come from Madam Malkin’s store in Diagon Alley,” another ministry employee added who Hermione had never seen before. “During class this morning, we examined all shoes from older students, and we found twelve pairs of shoes where the size and the tread sole matched with the ones from the assassins.”

“Provided, the profiles we’ve found belong to the perpetrators,” Harry pointed out. “We don’t have a hundred percent guarantee.”

“We will check all alibis of the twelve students for the times of the crimes in the next two days.” Ron held up a list with names. “Thus, we ask all Heads of House to tell their students the dates for their interrogation.”

“Why will it take two days?“ Hermione asked skeptically. “Twelve students can quickly be questioned.”

“Because all of their alibis have to be verified.” Ron was visibly irritated that she questioned his competence. “We not only have to act quickly, we also have to act thoroughly and reasonably, or do you want to take the risk we might send the wrong people to Azkaban?”

“Nobody will be sent to Azkaban,“ Minerva clarified. “I may remind you that we’re talking about students here. Whatever their motive is, their young age has to be taken into consideration.”

Considering the Headmistress was the victim of the attacks, her plea touched Hermione’s heart deeply and she could barely stay in her chair. Unfortunately, Minerva caught her eye at that very moment. Hermione dropped her gaze, blushing, and Minerva briefly seemed to have lost her train of thought, too.

“Judging from their previous behavior, the assassins seem to be quite impatient,” Filius Flitwick intervened. “Two attacks within two days suggest that they want to reach their goal quickly.” He pointed with his long wand at the parchment in Ron’s hand. “I agree with Hermione that the verification of the alibis will take an unfortunate amount of time.”

“What do you suggest, Filius?“ Minerva asked her deputy.

The little wizard thoughtfully rubbed his nose. “I think it’s best to beat them to it by setting a trap for them. If they really are students they will not only be impatient but also inexperienced.”

Harry and Ron exchanged silent glances, and Hermione could see there was something going on behind Harry’s forehead. Without hesitation, she decided to participate in whatever the two were contriving. She gently pushed her shoe tip against Harry’s under the table and he nodded unnoticeably. So the deal was closed.

“We’ll take your concerns into consideration, Professor Flitwick,” Harry turned to the Charms professor. “We will try to find a faster solution.”

Minerva sent him a scrutinizing look. “If there are no further requests, I thank you all for your cooperation,” she said calmly. “As soon as we have new knowledge, I’ll summon another meeting.”

The pushing of chairs was heard as the attendants of the conference rose and started to move to the door, some of them in loud conversation, others quietly and pensively. Hermione quickly walked to Harry and Ron and started to leave the room with them when Minerva called her back. “One moment, please, Hermione.”

Some colleagues turned their heads in surprise as Hermione was whistled back by the Headmistress yet again. “I’m sorry, Minerva,” she said when everybody had left the room. “I know I’m only a teacher trainee, but…”

Minerva shook her head in disbelief. “You actually manage to apologize to me for your behavior, while at the same time you’re plotting something with Mr. Potter behind my back?”

Hermione let her hand drop from the door handle. How on earth had Minerva noticed that? Did she have ten senses? “I’m worried about you,” she tried to justify herself.

Minerva’s expression softened. “I appreciate that, Hermione, but it’s my life and my decision. You have to accept that.” She turned around abruptly when a chalk fell on the floor behind them, breaking into two pieces. Minerva picked up both pieces and put the chalk back on the table. “Under no circumstances do I want you to plan something with your friends without me knowing about it,” she continued. “It’s absolutely impossible that I coordinate every step with Kingsley Shacklebolt, while his own employees carry out an independent, undiscussed plan, not to mention my own employee.”

“But Filius is right!” Hermione insisted, arms akimbo. “We shouldn’t wait until the next attack. We have to preempt the perpetrators!”

“That’s not what this is about,“ Minerva warned, noticeably concerned about Hermione’s determined expression. “You won’t do anything without my knowledge, is that clear?”

Hermione let herself drop in a chair. “You are asking me to just watch while you’re knowingly putting yourself in danger.” She didn’t even try to keep the desperation from her voice.

Minerva looked at her silently. All of a sudden she didn’t look like the strict Headmistress anymore. Instead she seemed insecure and nervous. Only now Hermione realized that her eyes were slightly red and her skin was paler than usual.

“You look tired,” Hermione stated with concern.

“Yes, I…“ Minerva fixed her eyes on her documents at the front of the table. “I didn’t sleep much… last night.” She cleared her throat. “I’m afraid… I gave you the wrong impression yesterday,“ she said with visible difficulty.

“What do you mean?“ Hermione asked, though she rather didn’t want to know.

Minerva looked at Hermione cautiously. “I don’t want to give you false hope.”

Hermione felt her throat tighten immediately. She wanted to assure Minerva she didn’t have any hope at all, but that would have been a damn lie. After all, she had been lying awake all night, doing nothing else than hoping.

“I’m not ready,“ Minerva explained, and there was something surprisingly pleading in her gaze. “Can you understand that?”

“No.“ Hermione shook her head. “I can’t.” She tried to swallow down the lump in her throat. “I do understand that it would be difficult, but I don’t understand why it would be impossible.”

“You are my employee, Hermione.”

“Then I’ll wait, until I’m not.” Hermione stood up from her chair to be on eye level with Minerva. “All these years I’ve been so sure to be alone with my feelings. But now…” She gently touched Minerva’s cheek. “Now…”

Minerva mutely shook her head. “It’s not possible,” she whispered.

“Why not?“

“A thousand reasons.“ Minerva put her hand on Hermione’s, pulling it away from her cheek. “Please, Hermione…”

Minerva’s pile of documents fell on the ground with a dull thud but none of the women paid attention. In Hermione’s head the memories of the walk whirled around while she looked into the green eyes that said so much more than their owner was telling her. “You forgot one,” Hermione said slowly. And without Minerva’s permission, she bent forward and kissed her.

Minerva seemed to have turned into a state of shock, and Hermione kissed the red lips once again before she let go of her. “I love you so much,” she whispered, pulling Minerva into her arms. “Someday I will suffocate on it.”

Minerva was so slim in her arms, so much slimmer than she had ever imagined. She seemed almost fragile. Hermione could feel every rib under her fingers, every bone, and also the soft breasts touching her own. It felt so perfect, so right, like nothing ever had in her entire life.

Finally, Minerva stirred. She started to breathe again, unregularly and heavily, and Hermione pulled back to look at her. What she saw, shook her to the core. Minerva was crying.

“Please, let me go,“ she whispered, and Hermione obediently took a step back.

“I’m sorry,“ Hermione said, confused. “I didn’t mean to…”

Minerva wiped her eyes. “Leave me alone, Hermione.”

“Of course.“ Hermione still hesitated. Nothing felt more wrong than to leave now. More than ever before.

“Please, Hermione.“

Hermione wanted to scream, everything inside her protested. But she nodded wordlessly and eventually left the room without looking back.

As soon as the door had closed behind her, she leant her head against the cold wall and let her tears fall. Why did she have to keep provoking Minerva into rejecting her? Why couldn’t she just leave things the way they were? Every time it hurt more. This had to stop, once and for all!

In desperation, she ran her fingertips over her lips that had touched Minerva McGonagall’s for the very first time. They had been so soft, like velvet. It had felt incredible, but only a second later Minerva had frozen and it had felt as if the sun had cooled. No, it couldn’t go on like that. Even though Minerva seemed to feel something for her, she signaled again and again that she wasn’t ready. And Hermione had to find a way to accept it. Otherwise she would only make things worse.

Chapter 8: Mistake

Notes:

Please note that I uploaded the previous chapter only a few days ago. Again, many thanks to Ronam, my wonderful beta reader!

And everybody wants to be a hero
and accomplish some heroic deed.
So do I, of course.
I want to be the one who gets you out of here.
(Element of Crime: „Bitte bleib bei mir“ / “Please, don’t leave me.” )

 

Later that evening, Hermione asked Ron to take care of their children and went to Harry’s room in Hogsmeade. “You look awful,” he said when he opened the door for her. “Were you crying?”

Hermione dropped onto the only chair in his room. “I need to talk to you.”

“Is it about McGonagall?“ He sat down on his unmade bed brushing away some crumbs. “What did she want from you?“

“Well…“ Hermione made a vague gesture. “For some reason, she noticed we were planning something,“ she explained. “And she forbade me to do anything behind Kingsley’s and her back.”

Harry thoughtfully stroked his chin. “How does she do that? She just knows us too well, doesn’t she?”

“Looks like it.” Hermione didn’t mean to delve into the subject. “The question is: what do we do now?”

Harry poured himself a cup of hot chocolate and offered Hermione one as well. “She’s your boss,” he stressed, handing her the cup. “If you ignore her order you can forget your master’s degree in Transfiguration and Charms.”

Hermione frowned. “You, of all people, are reminding me of the rules, Mr. Potter?“

“Well, yes.“ He laughed, a little embarrassed. “I know what your career means to you.“

Hermione held her head in her hands. She couldn’t deny she was indeed scared to lose her job. She tried to avoid thinking too much about what her plans would mean for her professional career because this was about somebody’s life, and not only somebody’s, but Minerva McGonagall’s. “I can’t abide by her terms, Harry.”

“What the hell is going on, Hermione?” Harry studied her worriedly, sipping his cocoa. “If McGonagall doesn’t want us to intervene we won’t. It’s her life and her school.”

“And that coming from you, Harry!“ Hermione put her cup so vehemently onto the armrest that the cocoa splashed over. Was she the only one left with a clear mind? Apparently, the auror training had affected Harry more than she had guessed. “Don’t you get it? Minerva totally underestimates the danger! If we don’t do anything she could be dead tomorrow!“

“Hermione.“ Harry got up from his bed and sat down on the floor in front of her. “At this very moment two of our most capable guards are watching Professor Sprout’s quarters. It’s not very likely the assassins will succeed in a third attack.”

“This is so not you...” Hermione skeptically looked at him through her bushy wisps. “Usually our discussions are the other way round. You’re just trying to keep me from risking my job, aren’t you?”

“Right.“ Harry grinned. “But it’s more than that. We really do our best, so you can relax.”

“No, I can’t relax.“ Hermione brushed the annoying wisps from her face, wondering how she could make him realize the seriousness of the situation. Certainly, Minerva was one of the most powerful witches of the word so it wasn’t surprising that Harry wasn’t too worried about her safety. But Minerva had said it herself that she couldn’t trust her own instincts at the moment, which meant that she actually could become a victim of an assassination, even if the perpetrators were inexperienced students. On the contrary, this fact endangered Minerva even more for she felt responsible for the students’ well being. This made her even more careless of her own safety. “I’m just worried about Minerva,” Hermione tried again. “You either help me to do something, or I’ll do it on my own.”

Hermione could see that Harry didn’t know what to make of her vehemence. Usually Harry was always up for things like that, but it seemed to be different when her professional career was at stake. He probably thought a lot less about his own situation but of course his behavior would raise questions at the ministry, too. However, Hermione doubted Kingsley would dismiss his best auror because of it.

“Why is this so important to you that you would risk your professional future for it, Hermione?“ Harry asked again. “Why are you doing this?”

“I…“ Hermione interlaced her fingers, putting them into her lap. “I… Harry… I have feelings for Minerva… Since our school days… I can’t just hope nothing happens to her.“

Harry’s jaw dropped. “You have… feelings for… McGonagall?“

“Yes.“ Hermione went bright red. “I know it sounds weird…”

Harry shook his head, puzzled. “Why have you never said anything? I’m your best friend!”

“I didn’t tell anyone, Harry.” Hermione realized all of a sudden how good it felt to finally share her secret with someone. Nevertheless, Harry had to keep his mouth shut, otherwise it would be all over the Daily Prophet next week. “Not even Ginny knows,” she said quietly. “Please keep it secret, Harry. Even to Ron.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Harry rubbed his face to get a clear head. “At least I understand now why this is so important to you.”

“Then help me.“ Hermione looked at him pleadingly. “Admit it, Harry Potter. You already had a plan before I showed up here, right?”

“Of course,“ he grinned. “Ron and I talked about it after the meeting.”

“That’s what I thought.“ Hermione leaned closer to him. ”Spit it out!”

“The Heads of House informed the twelve students tonight that they would be interrogated tomorrow morning,” Harry explained. “If the two perpetrators actually are among the twelve students, there are two possibilities now: They either decide to do nothing to avoid taking another risk, or they try to reach their goal before they get convicted.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,“ Hermione nodded. “They might plan another attack for tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“By the way, we found something only the Headmistress knows about.“ Harry leaned over to his bedside table, reaching for a briefcase. “We don’t know if there’s a connection to the attacks or not, but we found it quite interesting.” He pulled out a crinkled parchment from the briefcase and handed it to Hermione. “Do you know what this is?”

Hermione reached for the document and studied it. Somebody had carefully listed all Headmasters and Headmistresses since the foundation of Hogwarts. In the column next to the names were listed the dates of birth and death, and in another column the years when they had been Headmaster or Headmistress. In the far right column their House affiliation was added.

Hermione stopped short when her eyes fell on the names of the Houses and she started reading again the list from top to bottom. “Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Gryffindor…“ She looked up. “Where did you find this list?”

“In a Hufflepuff dorm.“ Harry took the list from her hand and put it back into his briefcase.

Hermione thoughtfully watched him putting the documents back on his bedside table. “Maybe we’ve all been so busy with the Slytherins that we didn’t really take the Hufflepuffs seriously,” she pondered aloud.

“How would you have felt, if you had become a Hufflepuff?” Harry sat down next to her again.

“Well…“ Hermione leaned back. “Cedric Diggory was a fantastic Hufflepuff,“ she said slowly. “And Tonks, too. But I didn’t know either of them when I came to Hogwarts.”

Harry nodded. “Do you remember what Hagrid first told us about the Hufflepuffs?”

“I have no idea.“ Hermione wrinkled her brow. “That justice, fairness, loyalty and diligence are important to them?”

“No.“ Harry made a face. “That most of them are duffers.”

“Hmm…” In vain, Hermione tried to remember a moment in her school years where the Hufflepuffs had emerged as the shining victors. They hadn’t even won the Quidditch house cup once. “So you’re assuming there might be some Hufflepuffs who are sick of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws always getting the fame and glory, while the Hufflepuffs are the alleged bores and duffers?”

“Exactly,“ Harry nodded. “Considering, the Hufflepuffs are the biggest House, it’s remarkable that almost no Headmaster ever came from it.” He looked at Hermione expectantly. “And who would be the next Headmaster if McGonagall wasn’t there anymore?”

Hermione made a hissing noise as it suddenly dawned on her. When Hogwarts had been founded, Salazar Slytherin had included into the statutes that only a human being could become a Headmaster of Hogwarts. Filius Flitwick, the Deputy, was descended from the goblins, though. “Probably Pomona Sprout.”

“McGonagall concluded the same earlier,“ Harry confirmed. “So she feels quite safe right now in Professor Sprout’s quarters. Nevertheless she insisted we wouldn’t tell anyone about this list. She wants to prevent the students of that dorm from being prematurely suspected. ‘Distrust is always like poison for a community,’ she said.”

“That sounds like Minerva.” Hermione had to admit the Headmistress’s words weren’t completely wrong. “But if our theory is correct the risk of another attack will be the highest when Minerva leaves Pomona’s quarters tonight or in the morning.”

“Right.“ Harry pulled out a heavy worn document from his cloak and Hermione’s eyes widened as she recognized it.

“Marauder’s Map!“ she shouted excitedly. “You still have it!”

“Of course.“ Harry opened the map with practiced fingers. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.“

Only seconds later numerous little feet appeared on the ground plan of Hogwarts. “Minerva is in Pomona’s quarters,” Hermione noticed with relief. “And where exactly did you find the list?”

“Here.“ Harry pointed at a Hufflepuff dormitory.

“Good.“ Hermione nervously pushed a dark curl behind her ear. “And what did you talk about with Ron?”

“We wanted to set a trap for the two Hufflepuffs, like Professor Flitwick suggested.” Harry tapped on the map with his wand. “Mischief managed.” He hid the document in his cloak again. “The map will help us to observe if someone leaves their dorm. If they do, we could use your help, Hermione. I asked Professor McGonagall not to roam her territory tonight and she agreed to that.”

Hermione understood immediately what he was getting at. “You need a cat as a lure.”

“Exactly.“ Harry’s eyes sparkled, as always when he was about to throw himself into a new adventure. “Nobody is as good in transfiguration as you are, except from McGonagall herself, of course, and we don’t want to get her involved, do we? Since their first attack the perpetrators should know that McGonagall usually roams her territory in her cat form at night. Because of all the guards in the corridors it’s more likely the assassins make an attempt tonight, not in the morning.”

“What if the two Hufflepuffs aren’t the perpetrators?“

“Even that wouldn’t change that the assassins will probably perpetrate their next attack during the night. Hogwarts is definitely more secured during the day.”

“But you can’t be sure,“ Hermione pointed out.

“No, I can’t.“ Harry ran his hand through his black hair which made his crazy hairstyle look even messier. “Therefore I asked McGonagall not to appear at breakfast, but she declined. She wanted to be visible and attainable for the students and radiate as much normality as possible.”

Hermione sighed. Even though she understood Minerva’s concerns, it didn’t justify taking such a risk. “If you want to stay awake tonight and watch Marauder’s Map, why don’t you come over to our place and we can take turns,” she suggested. “Provided that you’re also registered for the fireplace of Hogwarts’ kitchen…”

“I actually am,“ he smiled. “We all had to register before we went to Hogwarts with Kingsley.” Harry pointed at his bed. “I will hit the hay for two hours, then I’ll knock at your door.”

 

* * *

 

The children were already asleep when Harry appeared two hours later with his Invisibility Cloak under his arm at Hermione’s door. “Ron is asleep too because he wants to take over the next shift after you,” Hermione informed Harry, leading him to the living room. “Why didn’t you tell Kingsley about your plan?” She had wondered about that since she had left Harry’s room.

“Because your Headmistress convinced him she was safe in Professor Sprout’s quarters.” Harry gratefully sipped the tea Hermione had offered him. “She hopes we will identify the perpetrators during the interviews so that there won’t be any risk somebody gets injured, neither the aurors nor the perpetrators.”

“Well, only that Minerva’s own injury risk will be highest if it’s done that way,” Hermione said grimly. “As long as she stays in Pomona’s quarters she’s probably safe, but as soon as she steps out of the door she becomes a target. And that’s why we have to preempt the perpetrators.”

“We haven’t posted guards in front of Sprout’s quarters for nothing,” Harry repeated. “But I understand if you don’t want to take any risks. Sometimes offense is the best defense.” He took off his shoes and made himself comfortable in Hermione’s armchair. “I also understand that McGonagall is worried about the perpetrators. She saw them grow up. In her eyes they’re still kids. But if our plan works out, nobody will get harmed.”

Hermione suppressed a yawn. The last two nights were definitely taking their toll, more than she was ready to admit. “Do you want some company, or shall I go to bed too?”

Harry put his teacup on the table, watching the feet on Marauder’s Map. “Go to bed, Hermione,” he said without looking up. “Every minute of sleep is valuable tonight.”

Hermione gratefully retreated to her bedroom. She was so tired her legs barely carried her. As soon as she lay down she closed her eyes and didn’t even wake up when Ron left the bed to take his shift.

About three o’clock in the morning, she awoke with a start when Ron suddenly shook her shoulder. “Hermione”, he whispered excitedly. “There’s something going on in the common room of the Hufflepuffs.”

“Really?” Harry jumped out of the bed next to Hermione. “What did you see, Ron?”

“Two pairs of feet left the dorm and are crossing the Hufflepuff basement right now.” Ron pointed at the map. “Morton Belby and Stewart Cornfoot.“

“Are you sure?“ Hermione rubbed her eyes. She knew Mr. Belby and Mr. Cornfoot from the lessons for the seventh year, and neither of them had captured her attention in any way. Morton Belby was a tall, lanky young man who didn’t seem to be interested in anything other than Quidditch. Stewart Cornfoot was smaller than Belby, but just as thin. He was one of the better students of the class but didn’t seem to like Transfiguration very much. Were these young men capable of an assassination attempt? Hermione couldn’t believe it but there wasn’t time to think about it now.

“Where are the guards?” Harry asked, taking the map from Ron.

Ron pointed at two pairs of feet near the Hufflepuff dormitories. Strangely enough, the feet of the two Hufflepuff students walked right past the guards, without any indication of a fight. “How is that possible?” Ron asked, bewildered.

“Maybe an Imperius Curse?“ Hermione reached for her wand and they hurried to her fireplace.

Hogwarts’ kitchen was only dimly lit with torches when they entered it. Not for the first time it worked to their advantage that they knew the castle better than even some of the professors. “There’s a passage to the Hufflepuff wing behind the portrait of Sir Cornelius,” Harry whispered, pointing at his map. That would give them an advantage, but they had to be quick. All three of them were out of breath when they finally arrived at a corridor on the third floor. Immediately, Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak which seemed a lot smaller than Hermione had remembered it.

“You two hide under the cloak,“ Harry whispered and handed Ron the map. As they turned around the corner he promptly ran into a guard.

“Mr. Potter.“ The guard raised his hand to his temple in greeting. “Everything is quiet so far.”

“That’s good to know, Boris,“ Harry answered with a very official expression. “Stay alert.”

Even though it felt like the Invisibility Cloak had shrunk it worked as well as ever. “They’ve already passed the next guard,” Ron whispered as they quietly crept on. “How did they do that?“

The answer stuck in Hermione’s throat when they arrived at Pomona Sprout’s door and found both guards unconscious. “Tranquillizer darts,” Harry whispered, kneeling down next to the guard. “They automatically seek the goal they are set for.” He pointed at the spot where the darts had entered. It was the emblem of the ministry that had been sewn to the jacket of every guard. “Come on, we’ll trap them in front of the school toilets.”

“Too late!“ Ron whispered, staring at Harry’s map. “They’re coming around the corner any second.”

“Damn!“ Harry cursed and conjured up a piece of salmon. “Get down!”

Harry hid behind a pillar while Ron and Hermione lurked under the Invisibility Cloak on the other side of Pomona Sprout’s door. With a sweeping arm movement, Harry threw the piece of salmon about twenty yards, near to the spot where the two Hufflepuffs would round the corner any moment.

“Now!“ Ron whispered to Hermione. “Come on! The Hufflepuffs need to come out of cover to go after the bait.”

Hermione quickly pulled out a stupefied mouse from her robes. “Rennervate,” she whispered, and the mouse immediately awoke from its coma. “Vera Verto felis.”

Still in her hand, the mouse morphed into a tabby cat, instantly scratching Hermione’s hand. “Hurry!” Ron urged. “As soon as the Hufflepuff attack the cat we get them.“

Hermione pushed the cat towards the salmon. The animal detected its food within seconds and started trotting to the piece of fish. But in the middle of the way the cat stopped, setting back its ears.

“Wait!“ Ron stared at the map with wide eyes. “What the heck is she doing here?” He pointed at a pair of feet, undoubtedly belonging to Minerva McGonagall. She seemed to be exactly where the two Hufflepuff students were. “What do we do now?”

Harry, who hadn’t heard Ron behind the pillar, pointed his wand directly at the spot where McGonagall would appear in the next ten seconds. When an explosion echoed down the corridors, Harry dashed off.

“No, Harry!“ Hermione ran after him and threw herself on his arm while a red beam of light shot out of his wand. Harry lost his balance and fell on top of Hermione who, hit by part of his beam, had sunk to the floor. At the same time, Minerva came running around the corner, followed by Morton Belby. Through billows of smoke, Hermione saw Minerva firing an Incarcerus charm at Mr. Belby, and instantly ropes wrapped around his legs.

All of a sudden, Pomona Sprout appeared in her with nightgown having also seemed to have heard the explosion. “What happened?” she asked, promptly stumbling over the Invisibility Cloak hiding half of Hermione’s legs. Hermione’s shoulder hurt like hell and she could hardly lift her left arm to save Pomona from Stewart Cornfoot’s Stinging Hex which bounced off the wall. Then everything went black.

 

* * *

 

When Hermione regained her consciousness, she was leaning against the wall, and Minerva knelt in front of her. “Hermione?” she asked softly. “Are you alright?”

“I think so.“ Hermione tried to sit up when a stinging pain made her drop back again. “What happened?” she asked, confused. “Where are Ron and Harry?”

“They have taken the students to interrogation.“ Minerva felt cautiously for a spot on Hermione’s arm. It hurt like hell. “I’m afraid you broke your shoulder when you fell. I’ve informed Poppy, but she’s still taking care of Mr. Cornfoot.”

The pain was so strong Hermione could barely stay conscious. “Why are you here anyway?“ she asked, gritting her teeth. “I thought you had promised Harry not to leave Pomona’s quarters.”

“Like you have promised me not to do anything behind my back?“ Minerva countered, scoffing.

“I didn’t promise that.“ Hermione groaned quietly. She was about to black out again and prayed Madam Pomfrey would be there soon.

Minerva impatiently looked around, too. “Do you think you can hold on a while longer?”

Hermione couldn’t even respond anymore and Minerva reached for her wand. “I’m sorry, but this will hurt a lot.” She laid her hand on Hermione’s cheek and kept it there when she touched the injured shoulder with her wand. ”Episkey,” she said loudly, and at the same time pain shot through Hermione’s shoulder as if she had been hit by a train. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she pressed her cheek firmly against Minerva’s hand. Then, finally, the pain subsided, and Hermione could breathe again.

“I’m sorry. Poppy would have done it much better.“ Minerva brushed a soaked strand of hair from Hermione’s forehead. “But I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Thank you.“ Hermione tried to sit up again, but Minerva softly pushed her back.

“Stay still,“ she warned. “You mustn’t move your shoulder for twenty-four hours. Poppy will give you further instructions.”

Finally the healer hurried around the corner. “Oh mon dieu, Miss Granger!” she shouted as soon as she recognized Hermione. “What did you do?”

“Miss Granger broke her shoulder in a fall,“ Minerva explained, immediately switching back to being the Headmistress. “And she was hit by a Stunner.”

Poppy whipped out her wand. “You have to stay at the hospital wing overnight,“ she informed Hermione. “A broken shoulder isn’t funny.”

“But Rose and Hugo…,“ Hermione protested. “I can’t…”

“Don’t worry about them.” Minerva put her hand on Hermione’s uninjured arm. “I’ll arrange someone to take care of them.”

Hermione thanked her again. She was sure Minerva’s solicitude would come to an abrupt end as soon as she was able to leave the hospital wing again. The Headmistress would certainly give her a lecture. “Is anyone else hurt?” Hermione asked worriedly.

“No, it could have been worse.“ Minerva sighed. “If only you three had listened to me.“

“Thank Merlin, we didn’t.“ Even though their plan had completely failed, Hermione didn’t regret their intervention. Maybe Mr. Cornfoot would have thrown a second grenade at Minerva if they hadn’t been there. “Why did you leave Pomona’s quarters anyway?”

“I heard a dull sound, and when I checked I saw the guards had been sedated with arrows.” Minerva wrapped her arms around Hermione’s waist and supported her as she carefully got up. “I hid behind a ledge and waited for the perpetrators. I had just disarmed Mr. Belby when Mr. Cornfoot threw a grenade in my direction. A quick protective enchantment saved me, but the explosion ripped a finger from Mr. Cornfoot’s right hand. Then suddenly Harry Potter rushed in, and you with him.”

“Did his Stunner hit you?“

“No, you prevented that.“ Minerva smiled. “Thank you for that, by the way. My body reacts a bit strongly to Stunners since the attack by Dolores Umbridge and her aurors.”

Hermione had never heard Minerva talk about that incidence, but she had suspected something like that and was glad she had acted so quickly. “What happened after I blacked out?” She carefully turned her head when she noticed a movement from the corner of her eye. A mouse that looked a lot like Hermione’s animal scampered along the wall and disappeared behind a pillar. So Minerva had already retransformed her back.

“After I had disarmed Mr. Belby he tried to escape, but as you might have seen I tied him up,” Minerva explained. “However, there was so much smoke that I couldn’t see Mr. Cornfoot anymore. Luckily, Mr. Weasley followed him and eventually arrested him. Mr. Cornfoot had two more weapons in his pockets which he undoubtedly would have used if he had had the chance to do so.” Minerva shook her head about her students. “It’s quite shocking the two of them obviously found it necessary to fall back on simple Muggle methods. Horace teaches blasting curses in the fifth year.”

Hermione was too exhausted to follow Minerva’s thoughts. “How is Pomona doing?” she asked, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead.

“She would have been hit by Mr. Cornfoot’s Incendio curse if you hadn’t deflected it.” Minerva carefully took a step back, checking if Hermione could stand on her own. “Pomona is alright. She accompanied Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley for me.”

Hermione smiled gratefully. Apparently, Pomona had gone with Harry and Ron so that Minerva could stay with her. But before Hermione could say anything, Minerva gave Madam Pomfrey a sign. “Poppy will take you to the hospital wing,” she said, turning back to Hermione. “I’ll find someone for your children and then talk to the ministry and the two Hufflepuff boys. I will stop by again later to see how you are doing.”

“No, please don’t.“ Hermione’s voice sounded stronger than she felt. “You need some sleep too, Minerva. If you can arrange it I’d be glad if you drop by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Come on, Miss Granger,“ Poppy urged impatiently. “A soft bed in the infirmary is waiting for you.”

Chapter 9: Shards

Chapter 9: Shards

 

I want your hand, I want your mouth,
I want your head, I want your tongue,
I want your hair, I want your skin.
And the nonsense I want too.
(Element of Crime: „Das alles kommt mit“ / ”All of this comes with us”)

 

In the middle of the night, Minerva had sent one of the two caregivers to Hermione’s house. The young witch stayed with Rose and Hugo until Ron came back from the interrogation at dawn. It turned out that both children hadn’t even noticed Hermione had been gone, but of course, they wanted to see their mother immediately when they heard about her injuries. So Ron, Hugo, and Rose paid Hermione a visit before breakfast.

The two children hadn’t been at the hospital wing yet, and after they had made sure their mother wasn’t seriously ill, they started to inspect the room very carefully and bombard Madam Pomfrey with questions about all the potions on the shelves. “So much for visiting their mother,” Hermione whispered to Ron while their kids followed the healer wherever she was going.

“What do you expect?“ Ron shrugged. “You don’t even have a decent scratch.”

Hermione put on an offended expression. “I’m glad that at least you emerged as a hero out of all this. I personally knocked out Harry Potter after all, the hope of the ministry.” She rolled her eyes.

“He doesn’t hold it against you,“ Ron grinned. “We had such a great plan, but when Harry heard the explosion he threw it out the window and started running like a maniac. He had no idea his Stunner was in line to hit McGonagall.” Ron looked at the blanket, a bit embarrassed. “Thank you for letting me stay at your place. It was nice to see the kids, and you as well.”

“You’re welcome anytime, Ron,“ Hermione said and really meant it, provided he didn’t want to sleep in her bed again. “Have you finished your job at Hogwarts?”

“Yes, we took Mr. Belby and Mr. Cornfoot to the ministry last night. Harry is still there to participate in the interrogation.”

Hermione’s eyes followed her children running up and down the hospital wing. Rose had been given a branch of incense by Madam Pomfrey, and Hugo futilely tried to pluck some leaves from it. Eventually, Madam Pomfrey took pity and gave him a branch, too. “Did the two Hufflepuffs tell you where they had gotten the grenades from?” Hermione asked thoughtfully. “And why they didn’t use their wands instead?”

Ron told Hugo with a gesture to rub the incense between his fingers. He laughed when his son grimaced at the intense smell. “Belby and Cornfoot obviously thought McGonagall would have immediately shot their wands out of their hands with an Expelliarmus charm before they had even been able to raise their arms.” Ron turned back to Hermione. “And that’s how it was. The Muggle weapons surprised McGonagall for a second, which they used instantly. Luckily, she could fight off the explosion. Maybe they were also a bit curious and wanted to try out how effective Muggle weapons were.”

“Did they use the Muggle dynamite in the Headmistress’s office too?” Hermione rubbed her aching shoulder. She could carefully move it again, but a dull pain radiating from the location of the fracture told her she would have to stay in the informatory a few more hours. “Neville told me he had found some fire accelerant in Minerva’s private quarters.”

“That’s right,“ Ron nodded. “The dynamite gave Belby and Cornfoot the advantage to act from a distance. They would have had to be on-site for a blasting curse.”

Hermione took a sip of the disgusting potion Madam Pomfrey had put on her bedside table. She had to empty in within one hour and had almost accomplished the half of it. “Where did they get the weapons from?” She shuddered in disgust as she put the glass back on the bedside table. “You can’t buy something like that in an ordinary store.”

“Mr. Belby’s father befriended a Muggle and seems to have a huge arsenal at home. Our people went there last night and confiscated everything.” Ron sadly shook his head. “I don’t want know what that guy intended to do with it. He will also be hauled into court for illicit possession of weapons.” Ron glanced at his watch and abruptly got up. “I have to go,” he said, summoning Rose and Hugo. “I’ll take the kids to childcare and then leave.” He gave Hermione a kiss on her forehead. “Try to take it slow for a change.”

“I will,“ Hermione nodded, but they both knew she wouldn’t keep that promise.

Already at the door, the three Weasleys almost bumped into Minerva. “Is this a bad time?” she asked immediately.

“No, we’re about to leave, Professor.“ Ron pointed at Hermione’s bed. “The patient is aware and oriented.”

“That’s good to know.” Minerva stepped to Hermione’s bed with a smile. “Is Mr. Weasley correct?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,“ Hermione confirmed, moving her shoulder to prove her point. “I’m fine, and you’re probably very busy at the moment.”

Minerva hesitated. “Do you want me to leave?“

“No, but I hate keeping you from important things. You certainly have a lot to fix today.” Hermione took a big sip from the disgusting potion, and her shoulder protested when she shuddered with disgust again. “I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

Minerva nervously glanced at the door where Ron and the children had just left. “You seem to get along quite well, Mr. Weasley and you. He stayed at your place, didn’t he?”

Bewildered, Hermione watched Minerva plucking lint from her robe. She seemed unusually self-conscious. “We’re still friends,” Hermione explained simply. “Ron is a great person.”

“Yes, he is.“ Minerva didn’t seem very happy about Hermione’s response. “I’m glad you’ve maintained a good relationship. I’m happy for the children, and for you as well.”

“Yes, me too.“ Hermione didn’t feel much like talking about Ron. She was much more interested in Minerva’s conversation with the two Hufflepuffs. “Have you been at the ministry yet to talk to Mr. Belby and Mr. Cornfoot?”

“Yes, last night.” Minerva sighed. “It was devastating. Little boys in adult bodies who feel like heroes because they supposedly did something for their House. Even now they still feel like martyrs who sacrificed themselves for the Hufflepuffs.”

“I would have thought them wiser.“ Hermione had a hard time imagining somebody could purposefully accept to commit a murder and still be convinced to do a good deed. “Did you tell them off?”

“Pomona had already done that before me.“ Minerva smiled sadly. “It’s much worse for her because the two were from her House. With their fogged brains, they thought they were doing her a favor by promoting her to be Hogwarts’ Headmistress.”

“Would Pomona have even been interested in that position?“ Hermione had the impression the Head of the Hufflepuff House was very content with her position. Even though she was a good teacher, ambition had never been one of her prominent virtues.

“Pomona would rather take the caretaker’s job than become the Headmistress.” Minerva reached for the potion on Hermione’s bedside table. “Come on, only one more sip, then you’re done,” she encouraged Hermione, handing her the glass.

Grimacing, Hermione took the glass and gulped down the rest of the potion. Minerva smiled when Hermione put the empty glass back on the table, looking as if she had just eaten a horde of earthworms. “Sometimes it’s difficult to understand people who have become obsessed with something. Nevertheless, I blame myself for not realizing what must have been going on inside of the boys’ minds.“

“Me too.” Hermione thought of her last Transfiguration lesson with the Seventh Years. In hindsight, Mr. Belby and Mr. Cornfoot had seemed less focused than usual, but Hermione would never have guessed they had been planning an attack on a person. “Beyond a doubt they committed serious crimes. Yet, I wonder whether there’s actually some subtle resentment among the Hufflepuffs which the two students seized upon.”

Minerva looked up when Madam Pomfrey entered the room to get a remedy from her cupboard. She greeted the healer with a brief nod. “Yes and no,” she responded, turning to Hermione again. “Never has a potential Headmaster been rejected because he or she was a Hufflepuff. But we should review the awarding for points for the Houses. Maybe the special qualities and virtues of the Hufflepuffs aren’t considered sufficiently by the system."

Hermione was glad Minerva shared her thoughts, but at the same time it was strange seeing Minerva so serene and matter of fact while discussing the school’s future. “Aren’t you angry that the two attempted to assassinate you?”

“Yes, of course.“ Minerva looked out of the window. “But anger is a bad adviser for a Headmistress. I saw the boys grow up. Mr. Belby’s mother died during his birth, and his father used to hit him a lot. The man blamed him for the death of his wife. Mr. Cornfoot took care of his little sister from a very young age because both parents were alcoholics. At Hogwarts, Belby and Cornfoot have been victims of teasing and bullying every now and then. I understand they wanted to show off to the world.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.“ Hermione decided to pay a lot more attention to her students from now on. Usually, she didn’t know much more than their names and their age, but their living environment outside of the classroom had a severe impact on everybody’s achievements. “That doesn’t excuse their behavior, though.”

“No, of course it doesn’t,“ Minerva agreed calmly. “They’re adults and have to take responsibility for their deeds. Nonetheless, I hope the ministry will help them find another path with a better perspective, instead of ruining their future. Otherwise, they will only fall into a vicious circle they might never find a way out of again.”

Hermione leant forward, squeezing Minerva’s hand. “You’re amazing,” she said before she could restrain herself.

Minerva smiled. “And you should stop wanting to protect me. You’re so young, and your life is so much more precious than mine.”

“Not to me.” Hermione took her hand away. ”I thought you knew that already.“

Minerva nodded and pensively looked out of the window for a while. “I’d be really glad if we could cultivate a friendship beyond your traineeship,” she said eventually.

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat in shock. Minerva had to know by now that a friendship between them would never be possible. “You know I can’t do that,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Minerva. I really am.“

Minerva looked down, nodding again. “I understand.”

Hermione could feel the Headmistress withdrawing back into herself, but she didn’t know what to do to stop it. “If I could change it, I would,” she added softly.

Minerva raised her head, and there was so much sadness in her green eyes that Hermione could hardly stand it. “You’re so beautiful, Hermione,” she said suddenly. “It’s not fair.”

“You think so?“ Hermione blushed under her gaze. Following a sudden impulse, she slipped her fingers between Minerva’s, slowly brushing the pale back of her hand with her thumb. “I wish you would give us a chance.”

Minerva looked at their intertwined fingers, apparently indecisive about what to do. “When we talked in my office and you listed all the things you appreciated about me…,” she said after a while. “All I could think of was that I could have said the same about you.” She took a deep breath. “As a teacher, it’s my duty to treat every child equally and fairly,” she continued. “But I can’t deny that you’ve always had a special place in my heart.”

Hermione closed her eyes at Minerva’s words. So she hadn’t been alone with her affection, not even then. It would have meant the world to her to know that. Especially during the year when she had searched for Horcruxes with Harry and Ron. Never in her whole life had she felt more alone than at that time, and the idea that there had been someone who cared for her, would have made everything easier. And not only someone, but Minerva McGonagall.

“That’s why I was so surprised… and I admit… also hurt when you started avoiding me after you graduated,” Minerva explained with a soft voice. “I had hoped you would… share my sentiments.”

Hermione gently brushed Minerva’s hand. It had never been her intention to hurt Minerva, and in hindsight, she would have done a lot of things differently.

Minerva got up from the hospital bed and walked to the window. “I saw you growing up, Hermione,” she said, leaning against the wall next to the window. “I saw you change from an extraordinary bright and intelligent child into a brilliant, attractive woman. Of course I liked to look at you, who wouldn’t?” She shook her head about herself. “Of course I enjoyed being in your presence, who wouldn’t?”

“But you never considered…“

“Of course not.“ Minerva started to walk back and forth in front of the window. “How could I? You were my student. You were decades younger than me. And you were a woman! Not even remotely would I have thought that…” Hermione held her breath when Minerva walked back to her and stopped in front of her bed. “It looks like…” Minerva covered her face with her hands for a moment and then dropped them again. “… you’re not the only one with feelings.“

Hermione looked at her, unable to say something. Eventually, she forced herself to ignore the spinning carousel in her head and patted on the edge of her bed where Minerva had sat minutes ago. To her surprise, Minerva obeyed and sat down again. Hermione gently took her hands. “We could be so happy,” she said quietly.

“You can’t know that.“ Minerva’s voice sounded foreign and fragile. “That’s just a fantasy… only an idea… not reality.“

“Then what is the reality?” Hermione tried to look at her but Minerva averted her gaze.

“The reality is….“ Minerva hesitated. “… that there are too many reasons against having a… relationship… Not to mention I don’t know how I would be … if I got… intimate.”

Finally, she lifted her head, and Hermione was almost frightened by what she saw on her face. Minerva’s eyes seemed to glow like a fluorescent ocean. Maybe it was only a trick of the light from the window, but it was so very beautiful it almost didn’t seem real. “But…,” Hermione stuttered. “You’ve been… intimate with partners.”

“Not since I’ve been an animagus.“

“Oh.” Hermione went silent, bewildered. “Oh,” she said again. “But…”

“Hermione,“ Minerva interrupted her with a hint of impatience. “How many animagi do you know whose alter ego is a predator?”

Hermione thought hard about this but she couldn’t think of anybody. “But…”, she said for the third time. “… I’ve never read about any difficulties…” She turned bright red as it became obvious that she had already read up about that topic. “Are you sure that…”

“Yes.“ Minerva also blushed now. “I feel it when you’re… close to me.”

Her words caused a hot shiver in Hermione’s lower abdomen. Did Minerva know what she did to her? “Anyway…” Hermione fixed her gaze on the blanket, trying to regain her composure. “Fortunately, even predatory animals distinguish between their prey and their partner, otherwise mammals would be long extinct. Besides, you are a cat and not a lion, Minerva.”

“Yes, I know.” It was obvious the topic made Minerva feel uncomfortable. “I’m not talking about the physical aspects, I'm talking about the energetic... dimension. I don’t exactly know what it is, but something inside me gets mixed up in your presence. I can't describe it, but there's something going on when I'm near you... What if it gets worse and I lose control?”

“Then you’re still Minerva.“ Hermione tenderly put her hand at Minerva’s cheek. “With the chance to discover a new side of you. Your animagus is part of you. You are this animagus.”

Tears welled up in Minerva’s eyes. “You don’t know how it feels like, Hermione… Everything is so confusing and mixed up. That isn't good… It can get dangerous, for you and for me.”

“I don’t believe that.“ Hermione had no idea where she got her confidence from but she was absolutely certain Minerva was wrong. “I know I’m not an animagus. But I know that there’s nothing really new when you become an animagus and change into a different kind of being. The new state of being only draws from what has already been there, from what you have always been. Even if you lose control I’m sure it wouldn’t do any harm. Aren’t you even a bit curious about what would happen?”

“That’s easier said than done.” Minerva lowered her head and looked at her hands. “You have no idea what’s going on inside me…”

“That’s true,“ Hermione smiled. “But I know what’s going on inside of me, and I can only guess how scary it must be for you as an animagus. I’m sure it requires a lot of courage and it’s undoubtedly a bumpy road…” Hermione hesitated, not sure if she should continue. Since their walk by the sea she had a certain suspicion, but she hadn’t dared to say it to Minerva. “Yet, I think this isn’t the biggest problem,” she said eventually. “I believe you are connecting something to being an animagus that has nothing to do with it…”

“What are you talking about?” Minerva skeptically wrinkled her forehead.

Hermione’s cheeks were burning but she didn’t let Minerva’s obvious discountenance intimidate her. “The biggest problem is that you have lost so many people in your life that you don’t want to get involved with anyone anymore,” she said cautiously. “Everything in you strives not to feel that pain again because you’re convinced you will have to mourn in the end. Three wars would have that effect on everyone, even the great Minerva McGonagall. And in addition, you lost the two people you’d been with much too soon. It doesn’t surprise me at all you swore to yourself to be alone for the rest of your life. I understand that you protect yourself. But by closing yourself off like that, you miss out on life.”

Minerva looked at her in surprise but Hermione didn’t give her time to argue. She bent forward and kissed her. Without hesitation and without doubt. And this time Minerva couldn’t do anything other than respond. She kissed her back with so much intensity that time seemed to stand still. And then, suddenly, a veil tore apart inside of Hermione. Like that time when Garrick Ollivander had given her the matching wand, only a lot more intense. And there was also something else, a foreign, strange element kindling a never known energy inside her. Like a fire it burned in her veins. Was it the animagus in Minerva or something else? Hermione could hardly keep herself from intensifying the kiss, but she wanted Minerva to have complete control.

A clinking sound made the two witches jump apart and they turned around with a start. Madam Pomfrey stood in the door, her mouth agape, and a sea of shards in front of her. While Minerva tried to regain her composure Hermione put the shattered glass back together with a flick of her wand.

“It’s…,“ Minerva started.

“… not what it looks like?“ Madam Pomfrey adjusted her bonnet and put the repaired glass on Hermione’s bedside table. “Of course not.” She poured a brownish liquid into the glass and handed it to Hermione. “I will look in on you again in two hours, Miss Granger. If this treatment works you’ll be free to leave the hospital wing.”

She briefly nodded at Minerva who still seemed to have turned into a pillar of salt and then left the room without another word.

“Oh, Merlin.“ Minerva brushed her fingers against her forehead as soon as the healer was out of sight. “I should go now…” In a daze, she stood up from the bed, but Hermione held her back.

“It’s not a disaster,“ she emphasized. “No war has broken out and nobody died.”

“Are you sure?“ Minerva absent-mindedly stared at the door. “I should really leave now…“

“Please, think about it,“ Hermione pleaded and didn’t only mean her last remark. Only reluctantly, she let Minerva go. Did she regret the kiss already?

At the door, Minerva turned around again. “I won’t think about anything else,” she admitted with a forced smile. Then she closed the door, leaving a shaken Hermione behind.

 

* * *

 

Exactly two hours later, Madam Pomfrey appeared at Hermione’s bed and ran a thorough, final exam. “The last remedy worked well,” she said, satisfied. “You can go, Miss Granger.”

Hermione got up from her bed immediately. “I’m sorry you had to witness that earlier,” she said, buttoning up her blouse. “The Headmistress would never…”

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize to me, Miss Granger. I have no doubt about the Headmistress’s integrity, or about yours, by the way.” Madam Pomfrey handed Hermione one more potion for the night. “I found it quite eye-opening, though. And looking back, it explains a lot.”

“I’m sorry for putting you in that situation.” Hermione took her wand and let it disappear under her robes. “You were clearly in shock and dropped a glass…“

“No, that wasn’t me.“ Madam Pomfrey looked at her in surprise. “That’s all I need, dropping my own remedies.“

“What?“ Hermione stopped in confusion. “But… who…?“

“You yourself, my dear.” Madam Pomfrey said it as if was the most natural thing in the world. With a brisk gesture, she sent Hermione out of the hospital wing and started to put clean sheets on her bed with a snappy flick of her wand.

Hermione returned to her house, deep in thought. Did Madam Pomfrey think their kiss had been responsible for the shattered glass? How could that be? Hermione knew that magic could unintentionally break through sometimes, but she had only seen this with children who hadn’t been able to channel their magical powers yet. She herself had never experienced anything like that and it was out of the question something like this could happen to Minerva. The Headmistress was the most powerful witch in the United Kingdom after all. Even though she had just admitted to Hermione that there was a lot of confusion inside her, it couldn’t have been enough to cause the shattering of glass. Minerva was simply too experienced for that. She could do magic in her sleep if she wanted to.

It had felt so good to kiss Minerva. So right. So… magical. As if she had found something during the kiss that she had searched for forever. As if she had arrived. Had Minerva felt that too?

What was she supposed to do now? Minerva had actually agreed to think about Hermione’s words. That was more than she had dared to hope for before. But what would be the result of these deliberations? Would Minerva decide in favor of her old life, or would she dare start a new one? Was she actually ready to abandon her own principles?

Chapter 10: Magic

Big is only what you can’t recognize
and even bigger what you don’t understand.
(Element of Crime: „Die Hoffnung, die du bringst“ / “The hope you bring with you”)

 

“Mr. Evans, please don’t move your wrist so much when you perform the spell.” Hermione stepped to the desk of the Fifth Year, demonstrating the move. “Please, try it like this.”

Daniel Evans, who had turned beet red, awkwardly swung his wand. Hermione noticed he felt uncomfortable being the focus of attention, but it was important that everybody in the class knew exactly how to do the spell.

“Try it a few more times,“ she encouraged him and patiently stood next to him while he tried in vain to change a china plate into a beetle.

When he didn’t get it right the fourth time, she took his arm and did the spell together with him. This time it worked. “Don’t get discouraged,” she turned to the class. “It just needs practice. It’s not about learning the spell as quickly as possible. It’s about precision. The more thoroughly and precisely you perform the spell the more success you will have.” She took a glance at Marius Mitch who sat in the last row, writing notes in a small book. It was difficult to say if he approved of her lesson or not.

“When do we read the chapter with the mammals?” Leslie Pickering asked from the first row. The Ravenclaw girl lifted her open schoolbook where a domestic pig was depicted.

Hermione remembered her own impatience in her school days well and smiled indulgently. “We are not going through the insects again for nothing,” she explained kindly. “Ethical considerations play a significant role when you work with mammals. Only when it’s guaranteed that all of you have mastered the work with beetles will we repeat our work with vertebrates, which you already know from last year. And only when all of you can flawlessly transfigure a plate into a reptile, we’ll apply ourselves to mammals. As you know, we do a lot more harm when the transfiguration of a mammal fails.”

Miss Pickering rolled her eyes but Hermione knew she was doing the right thing. Educating her students to be responsible wizards and witches was more important to her than the doctrine of Transfiguration.

“To deepen the exercises from today, please read chapter 12 again.” Hermione pointed with her wand at the board where the chapter and its page numbers appeared. “Please practice in groups of two and three, and repeat the exercises from today. Practicing is more important than anything else.”

With these words, she let the students go and stepped aside to let them pass her. Her mentor Marius Mitch was the last one to get up from his chair, slowly shaking his head as he went to her. “Your methods were good, but your repetitions cost us too much time. We have to stick to our lesson plan after all.” He pointed with his wand at the board where the homework was still visible. “I gave the students this kind of homework in the third year.”

“Exactly.“ Hermione could barely hide her anger. “That’s why I’m surprised the students still don’t know how to do these techniques.” She wanted to say more but Marius walked to the door with long steps.

“Let’s talk about this after the teacher conference.“ He pointed at his watch. “I have a meeting with Filius now.”

Hermione furiously looked after the Transfiguration professor. He was just as much of a wimp being a teacher as being a mentor. Wasn’t it part of his job to reflect the class lesson with her after she had given it? Marius knew very well she wouldn’t have time for a talk after the teacher meeting because she had to pick up her kids from childcare.

Hermione glanced at her watch, checking if she would still have some time to change her clothes. She had felt a nervous tingling in her body the whole day and now that her lesson was over, the tingling pushed itself to the fore even more strongly. How would it feel to see Minerva again? Hermione hadn’t seen her since her visit at the hospital wing, and it was hard to say whether Minerva had so much to do at the moment, or if she was intentionally avoiding Hermione. Whatever it was, she would get an answer to her question in less than half an hour.

Hermione looked down at herself and felt awfully unattractive. Why had she decided for a dark, navy blue pullover in the morning that made her skin look even paler? If she hurried up now, she would still make it to the conference in time.

Some of the portraits in the staircase demonstratively covered her ears as Hermione whooshed past them with clattering heals. The house elves in the kitchen greeted her politely and Winky jumped from her big chair to say hello to her, but Hermione indicated with a gesture she was in a hurry. “I’ll drop by again later,” she promised Winky, breathlessly stepping into the fireplace.

As soon as she arrived home, a flick of her wand caused all fresh clothes to sort themselves on her bed while she jumped in the shower. In vain, Hermione tried to tell herself that the conference was only a boring teacher meeting and not a date. All she could think about was that she would see Minerva in a few minutes. And after the meeting she would know whether there was reason to hope, or if Minerva would withdraw from her even more than ever.

Hermione decided a Bordeaux blouse under a black coat wouldn’t be too fancy for a work date and left her house with subtle make-up and a whiff of perfume. Her colleagues had already gathered when she entered the conference room. Luckily, Neville had saved her a seat so that she didn’t need to sit next to Marius Mitch. Her mentor looked as gloom as after her lesson. Had he found her teaching so terrible?

As always, Minerva McGonagall sat at the top of the long table and was just projecting the items on the agenda onto the board. She wore a long, green robe which was a little too elegant for the conference, and Hermione assumed she had come directly from a meeting at the ministry. Accordingly, three of the seven items on the agenda were about the consequences of the attacks.

Hermione took her quill out of her purse, briefly peeking to Minerva. The Headmistress looked pale. She probably had gotten as little sleep over the last few nights as Hermione, and even her square glasses couldn’t cover the dark rings under her eyes. She didn’t look at Hermione, yet Hermione felt a strange vibrating, rising the temperature of her body. She found it unusually hot in the room but didn’t dare to open a window because the other attendees didn’t seem to feel warm at all.

Minerva had stepped next to the board and explained the items on the agenda. Her dark voice with the typical Scottish accent made Hermione break into a sweat, and she was only able to focus on the Headmistress's words with great difficulty. Hermione knew this strange pull very well from earlier encounters with Minerva, but it had never been this strong.

The Headmistress seemed less focused than usual, too, and Filius had to repeat a remark twice because she had been too distracted to listen to him. She still hadn’t looked at Hermione who started to suspect that Minerva was probably feeling something similar.

Neville noticed the unusual absent-mindedness of the Headmistress, too. “Is she alright?” he whispered into Hermione’s ear. “She doesn’t seem herself today.”

Hermione just shrugged, trying to fixate a spot at the wall. She was so absorbed in the spot that she totally missed the first four topics. Only when it was suddenly about her, she started to listen to the discussion again.

“I think I will do the next lessons myself again,“ Marius Mitch said. “Even though trainees of course need some kind of practice, time is running out for our lesson plan.”

Hermione angrily turned around to him. Hadn’t he said earlier that they would talk about the issue after the meeting? Instead, he now tried to present her a fait accompli. “It's actually difficult to comply with the lesson plan,” she confirmed, pointedly calm. “The Fifth Years hadn’t mastered the basic requirements for the work with mammals, so I decided to repeat the subject matter.”

Marius snorted, rolling his eyes. “Hermione believes even the last idiot must have understood the subject matter and forces all other students, who could have moved on to the next steps, to fall back to the level of Second and Third Years.”

“That wouldn’t be necessary if all the students had mastered the necessary basics,” Hermione interrupted him angrily. “You’re blaming me for something you failed to do! What good is it when only one third of the class masters the techniques, and the other two-thirds fall behind more and more? It can’t only be about complying with the lesson plan!”

“Your two thirds are five students, at the very most.” Marius dart a venomous glance at Hermione. “Even though you might be famous it doesn’t make you an experienced teacher. You’re a trainee and can’t comprehend the consequences of your behavior yet.”

Hermione was so furious she could hardly sit still on her chair, but Minerva didn’t let her respond. “I don’t think this is the appropriate place to discuss this issue,” she said to Marius. “We will talk about it in my office after the meeting.” Her ‘office’ was the provisional room in the Gryffindor tower where she worked until her own office would be ready to be used again.

Hermione clenched her teeth angrily. Marius would immediately use the situation to claim all kinds of things she couldn’t refute.

“And Hermione?“ Neville seemed to have come to the same conclusion. “Shouldn’t she have the chance to give her own view on this?”

A loud, rattling noise made all teachers turn around as a medieval brass plate fell from the wall without any visible outside influence. Embarrassed, Hermione fixed her eyes on the grain of the table, hoping she hadn’t had anything to do with the incidence.

While the colleagues started to whisper worriedly, Minerva acted as if nothing had happened. “Hermione will get a chance to comment on this matter,” she explained brusquely. “But this conversation will be between Marius and me.“

“Excuse me, Minerva, but Neville is right,“ Filius intervened. “Hermione should have the chance to justify her teaching methods right away.”

Hermione dared a quick glance at Minerva who didn’t seem to know what to respond for a second. “Alright then,” she said eventually. “Hermione will participate, too.”

“But…“ Hermione’s heart started to hammer against her chest. It wasn’t a good idea at all speaking to Minerva with Marius present. “My… my children…”, she stammered. “I need to…” She startled when the second brass plate also clattered from the wall.

“I can look after Rose and Hugo.“ Neville friendly patted her back. “We always have so much fun together.”

Hermione thanked him with a forced smile, wondering what else might fall from the wall as soon as she was alone with Minerva and Marius. The strange urge inside her grew from minute to minute, and Hermione clung to the edge of the table with both hands to not give into the pull.

Minerva cleared her throat and Hermione could see her hands shaking as she announced the next item on the agenda. “Pomona, I’d like to know your opinion about the accusations of the two Hufflepuff students. Do you believe there has been discrimination against the Hufflepuff House in the way points are given and taken at Hogwarts?”

Pomona Sprout pulled a withered leaf out of her grey curls before she responded. “There is always room for improvement. Both, the House point system and the class marks are almost exclusively achievement-oriented. Ambition however is not one of the Hufflepuffs’ strong points, otherwise we would have become Ravenclaws.” She patted Filius’ short arm with her broad hand. “Loyalty, diligence, and pursuit of justice and fairness aren’t necessarily visible in school marks or points. It’s no wonder Hufflepuffs are rarely interested in pursuing the position of the Headmaster. It would make sense to provide the students with more opportunities for the values of the Hufflepuffs. They could be integrated into the existing system, within the scope of leisure activities or various projects.”

Minerva took notes while Pomona was talking and asked her to also discuss the issue with other professors from the Hufflepuff House. When she finally announced the end of the meeting Hermione was bathed in sweat. She put her papers back into her purse as fast as possible and hastily left the room. “Calm down, Hermione,” she said to herself as she ran to the exit of the castle. “There’s no reason to panic.”

But that was easier said than done. Why had her attraction to Minerva become so uncontrollably strong? How was she supposed to survive the next hour when she was in the same room with her? Hermione deeply breathed in the cool autumn air, her eyes roaming the school grounds. A group of Slytherins had gathered around Hagrid’s hut and poured a black, viscous liquid into his yard. He would immediately step into it as soon as he started to harvest his pumpkins. Usually Hermione wouldn’t hesitate to intervene, but today she didn’t have the strength. Hagrid was able to deal with pranks like this himself, and if her eyes didn’t deceive her, he was already looking out of his window, calmly watching the fuss in his yard.

Hermione gave him an encouraging thumbs up and tried to concentrate on the meeting ahead. It was probably best if she had something to concentrate on during the conversation. Maybe she could focus on the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black. She disliked the man so much that his arrogance would probably distract her splendidly. As far as Hermione knew Mr. Filch had hung the undamaged portraits in the Headmistress’s temporary office, which meant that Phineas would be there, too.

Clearly, the plan was a bit weak but Hermione didn’t have time for a better one. She had to pick up the children from daycare to give them to Neville. Noticeably preoccupied, she gave him her keys and headed for the temporary office of the Headmistress.

In front of the door of the office, she could already hear Marius’ voice and instantly felt anger rising. Of course he had used her absence to convince Minerva about her deficiencies. Hermione distinctly knocked at the door, which opened immediately. Her mentor had demonstratively planted himself in front of Minerva who sat at her desk as usual. Hermione’s eyes searched for the portrait of Phineus Nigellus, and only after she had detected him between the portrait of Severus Snape and Dexter Fortesque did she enter the office.

A glass on the table in front of the sofa shattered as Hermione walked to the desk. Fortunately, it had been empty. She forced herself to ignore the shards, fastening her gaze on Phineus’ portrait instead. None of the portraits seemed to feel comfortable in the provisional room, and especially Phineus made no secret of his disgust. He obviously considered a room like this beneath his dignity.

“I hear you’ve already started,“ Hermione said in the friendliest voice she could muster.

“Yes, I just explained the situation to Minerva again,“ Marius said, obviously satisfied with himself. “This is not against you, Hermione. It just that you lack of practice and experience…”

“I don’t have much time, so I will keep things brief,” Minerva interrupted him, and the familiar sound of her voice gave Hermione goose bumps allover. “First, Hermione Granger is employed here as a teacher trainee, so Hogwarts committed itself to give her plenty of opportunities to practice. Second, you two obviously have different ideas of a successful, effective education, and I expect you to compromise. Third, of course we all need to comply with the lesson plan, and fourth, the students indeed have to master the transfiguration of insects and vertebrates before they can start to work with mammals.”

Marius looked at Minerva with wide eyes, apparently not really sure whether Minerva’s words were good or bad for him.

“It’s a pity, the unnecessary competition between the two of you stands in the way of a fruitful, constructive mentor-trainee relationship,” Minerva continued unaffectedly. “I expect of you, Marius, to mainly let Hermione teach the way she considers right. And I expect of you, Hermione, to acknowledge Marius’ years of experience which you naturally don’t have yet.”

Hermione had fastened her gaze so firmly on the portrait of Phineus that the former Headmaster eventually fled from his frame, probably to his painting at 12 Grimmauld Place. Hermione hadn’t considered that possibility, and for a moment her eyes wandered aimlessly around the room. “I will try that, Minerva,” she promised, her gaze on the sofa next to the fireplace. “I understand Marius is more experienced than I am.” Actually, she didn’t give a damn about Marius’ experience, but this wasn’t the time to start a discussion about that.

At least, Minerva didn’t seem to be impressed in the least by Marius’ statement. Hermione’s mentor also seemed to have eventually understood that he hadn’t achieved anything yet. “If I may explain to you again why this is so important, Minerva…,” he started.

“No, you may not,” Minerva interrupted him brusquely. “You both are adults, and I expect you to get it together. This conversation is over, and I bid you good evening.”

Hermione exhaled with relief and was already on the way to the door when Minerva called her back. “One moment, please, Hermione.”

Surprised, Hermione turned around and her breath caught when her eyes met Minerva’s. Marius winced when the empty portrait of Phineus Nigellus Black fell down behind the Headmistress. “I wish you a pleasant evening, too,” he said stiffly and briefly nodded at Hermione who held the door open for him. As soon as he was gone, she leant against the door and looked at Minerva.

“What is this?“ she asked with audible desperation.

Minerva’s confident appearance changed instantly and her upper body slumped noticeably. “You shouldn’t have kissed me,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry,“ Hermione stuttered, fumbling for the door handle. “I didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”

Minerva rested her elbows on her desk, burying her face into her hands. “It’s a magical field,” she said with a sigh when she looked up again. “I don’t know why, but it causes discharges when we are close to each other.”

Devastated, Hermione looked down on the floor. She had never thought she would ever regret the kiss between them, but she couldn’t bear seeing Minerva like this. “Okay…,” she said slowly, trying to clear her head. “What do we do now?”

“I have no idea.“ Little beads of sweat had appeared on Minerva’s upper lip and Hermione had to force herself to not look at them.

With great care, Hermione dared to walk a few steps further to the desk and sat down in the chair in front of it. Instantly, the attraction became stronger and she had to muster all her strength to not throw herself into Minerva’s arms. “Could we please send the portraits away for a moment?”

Immediately, an indignant murmur rose among the former Headmasters, but Minerva followed Hermione’s request without hesitation. “Ladies and Gentlemen, please grant us a moment of privacy,” she said, and shortly afterwards a black curtain fell in front of the portraits veiling sight and sound.

“Well…“ Hermione was relieved they were without eye- and ear-witnesses now. “Does this have anything to do with you being an animagus?”

“No.” Minerva shook her head. “At first, I thought so too, but I guess I was wrong. However, me being an animagus might intensify the effect of the magical field even more.”

The news wasn’t exactly comforting. When two magical energies reinforced each other, things became a lot more complex and unpredictable. Hermione was surprised however that she had never read about these kinds of magical fields before. “Has this happened to you before?”

“No.“ Minerva dart a tired glance at her books as if they offered an answer. “And I don’t know anybody who has experienced something similar. Of course I know about magical fields, but not in this context.” She made a gesture between Hermione and herself. “I don’t know exactly what it is, and why it’s there.”

Hermione knit her brow, clutching the seat of her chair so firmly her knuckles went white. She wouldn’t be able to resist that pull for very much longer, that much was certain. Only now, in hindsight, did she realize that this feeling wasn’t new. “Maybe this magical field has always been latently there, and because of the last… well… incidents… it kind of… erupted.”

Minerva nodded with resignation. “It’s like opening Pandora’s box, and now we can’t close it again.”

“I am so sorry, Minerva.“ Hermione deeply regretted what she had done to the Headmistress. “If I had known…”

“How could you have known?“ Minerva folded her hands in her lap, deep in thought. “The question is: what do we do now?”

Hermione’s body gave such a clear answer to this question that she crossed her legs in embarrassment. “Maybe I should break off my traineeship here and apply at Beauxbatons.”

“You would lose an entire year.“ Minerva vehemently shook her head. “And if I remember it correctly Mr. Weasley didn’t accept that. In the end, you might not get a degree at all.”

Hermione helplessly shrugged her shoulders. Minerva was right and it was a waste of time to argue against it. “What if I call in sick for the next weeks?”

“You know that’s just nonsense.“ Minerva sounded more frustrated than angry. “If you miss more than three weeks of the term, your traineeship won’t get accepted and you won’t get your degree.” On her forehead had appeared such a deep wrinkle that she actually looked old for the very first time. “Maybe I should leave Hogwarts until you’ve finished your teacher training. Kingsley has recommended a hiatus to me for years.”

“Are you out of your mind?“ Hermione was so shocked she forgot she was talking to the Headmistress. “You can’t leave Hogwarts because of me! Hogwarts needs you! I’m only a little teacher trainee, but you… you hold everything together.“

“I’m not much use to Hogwarts in this condition,” Minerva muttered stubbornly. “I can’t work like this.”

“And if we try to completely avoid each other?” Hermione realized they were going round in circles, but she was simply out of ideas.

“We talked about all this before,” Minerva sighed. “Do you want to be sick at every meeting and eat your meals in your office?” she asked sarcastically. “And even if it was possible to avoid each other in the next nine months, I will have to be present at your exams.” She laughed bitterly. “It will be an interesting event.” As if to prove it, a brass goblet fell from the fireplace mantel with a rattling noise, drowning Minerva’s last words.

The longer they discussed their situation the more difficult it became for Hermione to concentrate. It was as if she had to fight a huge wave pushing her towards Minerva. Not to mention the confusing heat in the lower parts of her body that became stronger every minute. If Minerva didn’t want her to change to Beauxbatons, and she didn’t want Minerva to take a hiatus for almost a year, what else was left then?

A part of Hermione that she tried to fight with all her might knew the answer all too well. “Would it possibly… get better… if we… well… if we…” She didn’t dare finishing her sentence.

“Possibly.“ Minerva nervously adjusted her Gryffindor brooch. “Or it might cause the opposite.“

“It can’t get any worse, can it?“ Hermione’s smile failed miserably.

“No, that’s out of the question.“ Minerva raised both hands. “That’s not an option at all. I’m still your superior.“

But as if she hadn’t said the words, she got up from her chair and walked to Hermione. All of a sudden she was so close that Hermione’s mind instantly went blank. Before she knew what was happening Minerva’s lips were on hers and both women spontaneously moaned at the touch. It was like a release from a tormenting captivity, and when Minerva leaned her glowing face against Hermione’s she could breathe freely for the very first time in days.

Minerva pulled her up from her chair and, as if by themselves, Hermione’s hands cupped Minerva’s cheeks and her lips kissed her neck. Minerva pushed her against the wall, between the portraits, and Hermione gasped for air when the buttons of her blouse seemed to open by themselves. “Minerva…” she whispered. “Wait… please… let’s think this through first…”

Minerva pulled away as if struck by lightning. “I’m sorry,“ she whispered, leaning her forehead against Hermione’s. “What are we doing?”

Hermione silently wrapped her arms around Minerva. “We will find a way,” she assured her, kissing her hot cheek. “I’m sure we will.”

For a while they just stood there, holding each other. Hermione kept her eyes closed and concentrated on the feeling of Minerva in her arms. Now that she was so close the pull in Hermione actually had decreased a bit, and something like peace had entered her heart.

“It definitely can’t go on like this.“ The pure despair in Minerva’s voice was plainly audible, but she didn’t make a move to break the embrace.

Hermione ran her fingertips over Minerva’s back, sensing the trembling her touch caused in the Headmistress’s body. “What do you think about the principle of Phyllida Spore?” she murmured into Minerva’s shoulder.

“The Canadian scientist who researched the connection between magic and Asian martial art?” Minerva reluctantly broke the embrace to look at Hermione. Her eyes seemed to glow like a few days ago in the hospital wing and it looked so heavenly beautiful it promptly took Hermione’s breath away.

“Exactly.” Hermione swallowed with difficulty. “Specifically, the Asian principle of using the opponent’s power and redirecting it so that one can take advantage of it. Phyllida Spore found it in certain areas of magic, too.”

“With the Devil’s Snare, for example,“ Minerva added with a frown. “If you move it kills you. If you get yourself into it and give in, it calms down.”

Hermione almost didn’t dare to think about the consequences of her suggestion. “Maybe this magical field works in a similar way,” she said carefully.

Minerva didn’t seem to like the theory at all. “I don’t accept that as a solution,” she said firmly. “There must be another way.”

Hermione smoothed Minerva’s wrinkled forehead with her fingertips. “If you have a better idea, I’m open for everything,” she said seriously. “But wouldn’t you agree the last minutes proved my point?”

Indeed, the energetic charge between them seemed to have calmed down a little. Even Minerva couldn’t deny that. “Maybe we’re overlooking something…,” she said helplessly.

Hermione pulled her deeper into her arms, a warm shiver running through her body. “This magical field turns us into magnets,” she whispered. “We can only avoid each other, or touch each other. I don’t see any way in between.”

She felt an intense trembling running through Minerva’s body. Then the Headmistress stepped back, a determined look on her face. “I’m afraid we have no other choice than to run a test,” she said, her voice so matter-of-fact as if she stood in front of a class again. A snake-like move of her wand made a clock appear, motionlessly hovering above the desk. With a second charm, Minerva sealed the office door. “We will follow the principle of the Devil’s Snare for half an hour. Afterwards you will leave this room, and we will check tomorrow if it has worked.”

Hermione promptly sank on the floor, her knees giving way. “You actually think we should try it?” she asked, just to be sure.

In spite of her firm voice Minerva blushed deeply. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see any other solution. The only alternative is one of us leaving this school.”

Hermione wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. All of sudden she wasn’t sure anymore if she was able to do this. She cared for Minerva deeply and didn’t want to just offer herself as the object of desire in order to calm down the magical field. And afterwards they would act as if nothing had ever happened.

Minerva, who had noticed Hermione’s hesitation, kneeled down in front of her, lifting Hermione’s chin. “What is it?” she asked worriedly.

Hermione swallowed heavily. “I know I suggested it myself, but now that I’m really thinking about it… I don’t think I can do this. You will have your peace back afterwards, but I won’t. If we’re lucky the field will calm down, but everything else will become more difficult. I think I prefer enduring the situation as it is now.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Minerva cupped Hermione’s cheek with her hand. “My peace isn’t in better shape than yours,” she said softly. “I thought that has become obvious…” She paused a moment as if she had great difficulty to continue. “Nevertheless, I’m still your superior, and I only agreed to your idea because neither of us is able to work anymore. The magic is too strong… It’s stronger than you, and it’s stronger than me. So we will have to learn to master it. But until then, we need a short-term solution, and for this, we need the test.”

Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “If I had known where this would lead to, I would have never applied for the traineeship here. I am so sorry.”

“You don’t need to be.“ Minerva ran her fingers comfortingly through Hermione’s brown curls. “It seems it would have happened anyway, sooner or later.”

“Are you serious?“ Hermione lifted her face in surprise. “Do you think it was just a question of time?”

“Without doubt.“

Hermione felt a heavy burden falling from her shoulders. So it wasn’t her fault things had come to this. Minerva felt the same energy she felt, and sooner or later in their life they would have come to this point.

A deep sense of happiness spread through Hermione and she took Minerva’s face in both hands. “So let’s risk it,” she said decisively and set the hand of the hovering clock in motion with a flick of her wand. And then she kissed Minerva so intensely that the older woman almost lost her balance.

Her fingers had already loosened the knot in Minerva’s hair and got lost in her dense curls. Two vases burst on the left and the right next to them when Minerva gently pushed the red blouse from Hermione’s shoulders. The leaking water spread out onto the gaps of the floor, and Hermione raised her wand to reverse the event, but Minerva kept her from it. “Later,” she whispered, and a pile of books fell loudly from the shelf as she touched Hermione’s naked shoulder. Overwhelmed by a powerful impulse, Hermione pushed her to the sofa, her face buried into Minerva’s neck, and finally her mind turned off.

With one hand, she threw her black cloak on the wet floor while her other one was already searching for the buttons of Minerva’s gown. Frustrated, she used her wand as an aid, and the green dress fell on the floor together with Minerva’s underwear and her bra. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, pushing Minerva deeper into the sofa. Her hands shook when her fingertips ran over the soft breast for the very first time. It was an indescribable feeling and Hermione struggled to stay conscious. A glass shattered in one of the windows as Minerva started to tremble under her touch and a first orgasm rolled over her.

Hermione paused in surprise, but when Minerva covered her eyes with her hand, obviously embarrassed about her own reaction, Hermione gently pushed her arm away and kissed the hot eyelids. “Everything’s alright,” she whispered. “You’re amazing.”

Minerva was still trembling when a gesture of her hand made Hermione’s remaining clothes disappear. Freed from the constraints, Hermione laid down on Minerva, and the sense of naked skin was so intense both women had to struggle for air. Minerva pushed her hand between their bodies and when her fingers wandered downwards, Hermione’s body tremblingly reared up and erupted in a quivering wave. “I’m sorry,” Minerva whispered. “I barely touched you.”

“I know.” Hermione kissed Minerva so passionately another glass shattered in the windows. What would happen when they really started to touch each other?

 

* * *

 

When the hand of the hovering clock above the desk announced the end of the test, only a few windows in the room were still undamaged and the floor was littered with shards. The two witches lay on the sofa in a tight embrace, limbs intertwined, exhausted, but distinctly calmer than thirty minutes earlier.

Hermione felt like she was in a state of intoxication, which was only partly caused by the powerful magic in the room. She couldn’t believe what they had just done. How many years had she longed for this moment, but reality had surpassed everything she could have ever imagined - in spite of the awkwardness of the situation, which couldn’t have been less romantic. Hermione had understood very well that it had only been an act of desperation on Minerva’s part.

At least it seemed that their plan had actually worked. The unbearable tension inside of them had changed into a steady, warm flow, and Hermione didn’t have the feeling of a heavy weight lying on her chest anymore. More than ever she felt a deep love for Minerva, and she wished time would stand still forever.

“I think we have proven the predator in you is not the problem,“ she whispered, gently kissing Minerva’s hairline.

Minerva made a sound more like a purring than a sigh. “We shouldn’t think ourselves safe too soon,” she warned as she reluctantly pulled away from Hermione’s embrace. “The next days will show if it really worked.”

“Minerva…“ Hermione grabbed her hand when the Headmistress was about to get up. “Whatever happens, I hope you will never regret these thirty minutes.“

Minerva smiled warmly. “I won’t.“ She tenderly brushed a wet curl from Hermione’s forehead. “Yet we have to take our usual roles again and act as if nothing has happened. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course.“ Hermione nodded bravely, and they started to pick up their clothes from the floor. All of them were drenched but a little charm dried them quickly. There would have been so much to say as the two witches silently put on their clothes, but nothing seemed to be appropriate for the situation. Hermione felt full to overflowing, as if her body was too small to contain all the emotions, and at the same time her head seemed completely empty when she tried to think of the future. How could she act as if nothing had happened? Every single cell in her felt different than before.

With several Reparo charms, they restored the original state of the room, and much too soon it was time to say good-bye. The evening was over, and from now on they would be teacher trainee and Headmistress again.

For the second time this evening, Hermione stood at the door of the Headmistress’s temporary office, her hand on the door handle. She had no idea what to say and finally managed a helpless “Good night, Minerva.”

Minerva looked at her in a way she had never looked at her before, and Hermione melted under her gaze. “Good night, Hermione.”

Chapter 11: Arrived

Notes:

Here's the final chapter. I'm sorry it's such a long one but I didn't know where to make a cut. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this story. You have no idea how much I appreciate it! I wish my English would be better and I can't thank my beta reader Ronam enough for patiently correcting my language faults. And thanks to everyone who left kudos and/or a comment. I appreciated each and every one! I hope you will like the last chapter and it will bring a smile to your face.

Chapter 11: Arrived

 

Whenever words are stuck,
whenever there’s water in the eyes,
whenever we stumble through the dark
and let ourselves get confused,
above you, above me the same stars.
(Element of Crime: „Dieselben Sterne“ / “The same stars”)

 

When Hermione came home her kids were already asleep, and Neville had peacefully dozed off in his armchair. He woke with a start as Hermione stepped into the living room, but fortunately he was too tired to start a real conversation with her. So she just thanked him for his support and invited him to a trip to London with her, Rose, and Hugo, as a return to his favor. Neville happily agreed, particularly since he had wanted to visit his parents at St. Mungo’s hospital anyway.

When he left, Hermione’s emotions were still in such turmoil that she expected another sleepless night. But as soon as she lay in her bed, an extreme, heavy tiredness came over her, and she fell asleep immediately.

The alarm rudely woke her from deep sleep and it took her a while to get her bearings. With a quiet moan, she left her bed, realizing every muscle and every bone hurt. How long had it been that she had had sore muscles from sex? Hermione couldn’t help but smile - from half an hour of sex, to be exact.

Even more hindering than the sore muscles, was the deep exhaustion. Hermione felt as if she had run a marathon race, yet things were a lot better than the days before. Everything in her felt freer, lighter and more alive. And then there was this quiet, warm feeling of happiness that remained from the evening with Minerva.

But the moment of truth would come in a few minutes, when Hermione entered the Great Hall – provided, she would muster enough energy to leave her house. Since Hermione moved slower than normal she got delayed during her morning routine, and when she finally arrived at childcare with Rose and Hugo, the other children had already started their breakfast. Hermione quickly kissed her children good-bye and hurried back to her fireplace. The breakfast in the Great Hall had already started as well when Hermione, still slightly out of breath, sat down next to Neville.

Relieved, she noticed that Minerva was there, too. She sat at the middle of the table as usual, engrossed in a conversation with Filius Flitwck. She couldn’t have seen her yet, still Hermione was sure she had noticed her presence. Hermione at least, felt Minerva’s proximity immediately, but this time, no plate fell from the wall, no glass shattered, and every window stayed intact.

“Are you alright?” Neville arched an eyebrow as he offered her a sandwich. “You’re beaming like you just won the Quidditch Cup.”

“Something like that,“ she responded cryptically, gratefully taking the sandwich from him. “Did the kids behave last night?”

“Oh yes, we played games the whole time and had a blast.” Neville grinned. “How about you? I was worried about you. That meeting took forever.“

Hermione couldn’t keep herself from turning scarlet. “Marius and I explained our different points of view,” she responded, secretly glad it was the truth. “And the Headmistress decided I may continue to teach the way I consider best.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re grinning like a Cheshire cat.” Neville patted her back. “Well done, Hermione.”

At that very moment, Minerva turned around and caught Hermione’s eye. She smiled and seemed to be at least as relieved as Hermione. Even at their eye contact nothing got broken. All Hermione felt was a deep love for this woman and a steady, streaming warmth, possibly caused by the magical field.

Hermione thought it safer to ignore Minerva for the rest of the breakfast and started to ask Neville about his class lesson. His first lesson had taken place almost at the same time as hers, but unlike Hermione’s mentor, Pomona Sprout hadn’t taken had issues with his teaching or brought his lesson up during the staff meeting.

Neville seemed delighted about Hermione’s interest and told her in great detail about his lesson in the greenhouse. Hermione listened to him the best she could, even though her thoughts drifted to the middle of the long teacher table again and again. What would happen now? Would the peace she was feeling now be a long-term thing, or would the energy quickly get stronger again? And what would they do then?

Since the previous night, even the Headmistress had to have realized that a normal friendship between them was impossible. The attraction between them was simply too strong, but it was hard to predict what Minerva would do about that. She probably didn’t even know it herself.

“Do you want to go to the Three Broomsticks tonight?” Neville interrupted Hermione’s musings. “Half of the staff will be there.”

Hermione politely declined. “No, the kids need some time with their mom.”

“Too bad, but maybe next time.“ Neville glanced at his watch when the Great Hall started to empty. It was high time for them to go to their classrooms. “Show Marius what a good lesson is, Hermione,” he grinned, but winced only seconds later when his long legs hit the edge of the table. “These tables are too small for goblins,” he swore. “Why do only the students get all the new stuff?”

 

* * *

 

After the evidence of the fire had almost been fully removed, Hogwarts settled back into a daily routine, and the students ran through the corridors again as loudly as ever. They were also more receptive in the classroom, and Hermione had great fun trying out her numerous ideas. Marius Mitch still sat in the last row with a grim face, taking notes at every lesson, but Hermione didn’t care. She had the Headmistress’s blessing and her success proved her right. Every week, the students steadily improved and gained confidence, and they seemed to even have fun in the classroom.

Hermione wished Minerva would notice how well her lessons were executed, and she hoped the Headmistress would at least hear about her success from other sources. Marius certainly wouldn’t be complimenting her.

Hermione’s encounters with Minerva remained rare and difficult because the magic field of energy between them grew stronger again. So they tried to reduce their encounters to a minimum which Hermione secretly regretted immensely. In spite of their difficult situation, seeing Minerva gave her a strength she had never felt before and she longed for every meeting, even though every encounter seemed to intensify the energy.

At a teacher meeting in the middle of October Hermione witnessed for the second time that Minerva was distracted while moderating the meeting, losing her train of thought several times. Hermione also found it difficult to concentrate on the topics, and her thoughts constantly drifted to the memorable evening when they had performed the test.

Hermione’s mind was far away when suddenly somebody said her name and all eyes turned to her. “Hermione, Neville, and Rolanda contributed a lot to the restoration of the castle,” Filius Flitwick told the staff. “Hermione even combined the necessary renovation works with practical exercises in her school lessons so that the students not only learned a lot but furthermore helped us to stay on schedule for the restoration.” Appreciative applause interrupted Filius’ report and Hermione smiled gratefully at her staff. Even Marius seemed to feel forced to clap. “The rooms can be furnished next weekend, and the north wing can officially be used again on Monday,” Filius reported with a satisfied smile on his face.

Minerva thanked Filius for his statement and held up a parchment with the topics for the next N.E.W.T.s. Her hand shook almost imperceptibly and Hermione cast a worried glance at the wall. The brass plate had started to lightly vibrate.

Hermione stood up, pretending to have seen something in her purse. “I just got a message that I have to go to childcare,” she apologized to her staff. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.” As she spoke, she reached for her purse and left the conference room in a hurry.

She decided to go straight to her office and then dropped on her chair. She knew very well it wasn’t a real solution if she missed half of the conferences from now on. But for now she gave Minerva a break so that she could do her job. Hermione tried to use the time to prepare her next lesson but she couldn’t concentrate on anything. Eventually she gave up and stared out of the window.

After half an hour she decided it was time to go back to the conference room. She was lucky because her colleagues were just discussing the last item on the agenda: the preparations for Halloween. The caretaker, Mr. Filch, had been invited for this topic and stood with an air of importance next to Minerva. The Headmistress distributed the tasks to be done and assigned the organization of the decoration to the startled Horace Slughorn. Before he could think of an excuse Minerva closed the meeting. “I assume you coordinate all preparations with Mr. Filch, Horace, to avoid misunderstandings,” she said conclusively.

Hermione couldn’t suppress a mischievous smile when Horace looked like a dying duck in a thunderstorm. She liked the old man, but he usually chickened out of every job coming his way. It was high time he did something for the community.

The professors started to leave the conference room but Hermione deliberately dawdled so she could have a word with Minerva. The Headmistress seemed to have the same thought since she remained sitting in her chair, writing down some last sentences about the meeting. When only Hermione was left in the room she looked up. “Thank you,” she said, putting her quill aside.

“No problem.“ Hermione watched her attentively. Minerva still looked unusually tense. “How are you doing?”

Minerva got up and looked at her strangely. “Would you hold me for a little while?” she asked eventually.

“Of course.” Hermione quickly closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Minerva. Instantly, the smell of rose oil reached her nostrils and she buried her face into Minerva’s shoulder. Both women breathed a sigh of relief at the touch. The brass plate behind Hermione fell loudly on the floor, but she kept her eyes closed and didn’t move.

Minerva took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.“ Hermione wasn’t ready to open her eyes yet and focused on the raising and lowering of Minerva’s chest while they stood closely together. Suddenly, she noticed something she hadn’t been aware of before. If she focused on the energy between them, colors started to emerge before her inner eye. At first it was a bright orange, then it gradually changed into a deep red. “Minerva?” she whispered. “If you keep your eyes closed and focus on the magical field, what do you see?”

Minerva didn’t respond at first. “Orange and red,” she said eventually. “And now a light green.”

“I see the same,“ Hermione said excitedly, easing their embrace. “We can see the magical field, Minerva! This will give us a chance to estimate its forces and to deal with them.”

“Hmm…. Green seems to be a desirable color.” Minerva closed her eyes again to verify her discovery.

“Absolutely,“ Hermione confirmed with a smile. “I’ll gladly hug you from time to time if we get a nice green from it.”

For the first time in a long while Minerva laughed out loud. “You’re impossible, Hermione.”

 

* * *

 

Now that they had found a remedy to better estimate the magical field, the encounters with Minerva became a lot less complicated. A brief embrace here, a gentle touch there helped to keep the energy in check so that none of them got affected beyond measure, and their environment also stayed mostly intact - apart from some smaller accidents nobody found strange because their colleagues usually suspected Peeves.

However, the small gestures were only effective in the short term, and they sometimes weren’t enough to direct the overwhelming energy into calmer channels. Several times Hermione was very tempted to ask Minerva for a repetition of their test to finally get back some piece in her soul. But she knew Minerva would never agree to that, and there was also something else making Hermione fear a repetition. Apart from the magical field, the bond between her and Minerva got stronger with every contact and every touch, and Hermione was justifiably scared there wouldn’t be any way back soon. She had already gotten far too involved, and she now feared the end of her traineeship more than she was looking forward to it.

The most difficult time however started with the Christmas holidays. Hermione had been looking forward to the vacation for a long time since their little family had been invited to stay at the Borrow for two weeks. Rose and Hugo couldn’t wait to see their grandparents again, and Hermione liked the idea as well. She longed for some quiet and hoped for several relaxing evenings in front of the fireplace.

However, by the third day, Hermione noticed something was wrong. She stayed awake at night for hours, and when she closed her eyes she saw a cold, chilly white. She felt like an snow-covered landscape under which everything alive came to a standstill. Everything in her was heavy and without joy, and she fell into a depressed mood that wasn’t like her at all. If she hadn’t known better she would have started looking for Dementors in Ottery St. Catchpole.

Aside from the heaviness, she was constantly cold and felt a gnawing, dull pain in all bones and limbs. It was almost unbearable, and if Minerva hadn’t traveled to a distant cousin over the Christmas holidays, Hermione would have paid her a visit just to soothe her condition.

Molly noticed Hermione wasn’t well, and at several occasions she worriedly asked her questions which Hermione didn’t answer. It was obvious Molly wanted to help her but didn’t know what the problem was. “Is it difficult for you that Ron is involved with Gabrielle now?” she asked one evening when the children were already asleep.

“What?” Hermione looked up from her book in surprise. Ron had written her several weeks ago that he had started a relationship with Fleur’s sister, and Hermione had been amazed herself about her calm reaction to it. She was actually happy for Ron, and in a way it diminished her guilty conscience to see him happy again. Well, she secretly considered him too old for Gabrielle – Ron was 26 and she was 17, but Hermione was the last one feeling called to criticize an age gap in a relationship. “No, I’m just a little exhausted, Molly,” she responded with an exaggerated yawn. “The last few weeks at Hogwarts have been pretty stressful, especially during the assaults.”

Molly nodded, not really convinced. “And everything’s alright at Hogwarts?” she probed.

“Yes.“ Hermione folded her woolen blanket and put it on Molly’s sofa. It was only nine o’clock and she had put Rose and Hugo to bed an hour ago, but she wished she could just curl up in her bed as well. If she had been at home she had done so, but she didn’t want to be impolite to Molly. “Rose and Hugo seem to like living in Hogsmeade, and I enjoy the teaching.”

“And there’s nothing bothering or burdening you?” Molly pulled her knitting needles from the air, checking the rows with a skeptical frown. Somewhere she had dropped a stich. “You seem so different.”

“I have some trouble with my mentor.“ That wasn’t at least a complete lie for Marius Mitch did indeed break her nerves.

Molly’s face brightened visibly. She was obviously relieved there wasn’t something more serious bothering Hermione. “I knew you would quarrel with your mentor sooner or later,” she said with an amused expression. “You quickly start to compete with people who want to teach you something.”

“That’s not true,“ Hermione protested, though she knew Molly wasn’t entirely wrong. “It just annoys me that Professor Mitch teaches the students so little.”

“That should rather be Minerva’s concern than yours, don’t you think?“ Molly corrected the flawed row and threw the knitting needles up in the air again where they clattered away. “But if Ron’s new relationship doesn’t bother you, would it be okay with you if he brings Gabrielle with him to our New Year’s Eve party? “

“Yes, of course.“ Hermione put her book back onto the coffee table. It was an interesting novel from the 17th century, but Molly wouldn’t let her read anyway anymore. “I would love to see Gabrielle again, and I’m sure Fleur would be happy too.”

“How nice you’re saying that.“ Molly smiled from ear to ear. Every year she had uttered her regret about Ron and Hermione missing the traditional New Year’s Eve Party at the Burrow. How could she have known that Hermione had desperately tried to find a believable excuse so that she didn’t have to meet Minerva McGonagall at the Burrow.

“Who has agreed to come to your party so far?” Hermione asked casually.

Molly reached for a list on the fireplace mantel. “Harry and Ginny, George, Neville, Luna and Rolf, Charlie, Bill and Fleur, Ron and Gabrielle, Percy and his new girlfriend – I forgot her name -, Minerva, and two of Arthur’s colleagues.”

Hermione felt everything inside her sighing with relief at the mentioning of Minerva’s name. “Don’t Pomona Sprout and Rolanda Hooch usually come too?” she asked after swallowing down the last sip of her tea. “And what about Hagrid?”

“Olympe Maxime will be visiting Hagrid this year,“ Molly explained with a telling look. “And Pomona and Rolanda both are going to a different event this year. I think it’s in Spain or somewhere.” Molly showed Hermione the canceled names on the list. “Too bad. Rolanda usually knows so many ridiculous games.“

“I’m sure it will be a great party.“ Hermione rose from her sofa and gave Molly a kiss on her cheek. “I’m really exhausted and think I’ll call it a night,” she apologized. “The air in Ottery St Catchpole seems to make me tired. Rose and Hugo immediately fell asleep, too.”

“That’s probably because they rollicked all day with their grandfather,” Molly said with a chuckle. “Have a good night, my dear.”

“You too, Molly.“ Hermione indeed hoped to get more than just a few hours of sleep for the first time on this vacation.

 

* * *

 

After Hermione had given them the green light, the Weasley family decided Ron and Gabrielle should arrive the day before New Year’s Eve. That way they could spend more time with their family, and Rose and Hugo would have more time with their father. They both jumped excitedly around the room when their father appeared slightly sooty in the fireplace of the Burrow in the morning of December 30th.

He was obviously uncomfortable introducing his new girlfriend to Hermione, and she greeted Gabrielle even more cordially to lighten the mood. The children didn’t seem to have reservations either and quickly started to involve Gabrielle into their games so that she was busy for the rest of the day.

“Is it really okay with you?“ Ron asked while they watched their children and Gabrielle playing.

“Yes, of course.“ Hermione was eager to dispel his worries. She had never been the partner he had needed and she really wanted him to be happy. Ron was a wonderful person and he deserved to have a girlfriend who loved him with all her heart. “Life can’t stand still, just because we separated,” she added with a smile. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Really?“ Ron looked at her skeptically. “In some way I would feel better if you had somebody, too,” he admitted, a little embarrassed.

“I’m fine, Ron,“ she assured him. “Don’t worry.”

“Well, you have your books, haven’t you?“ He laughed quietly. “They’ve always made you happy.”

“Exactly.“ Hermione found it high time to direct the conversation to something else and asked Ron about the lawsuit against Morton Belby and Stewart Cornfoot. He told her that Minerva had vehemently opposed the decision of sending them to Azkaban. Instead, they had to do community service at St. Mungo’s for the next two years, under strict supervision of the healers and without direct contact to the patients. If they did well, they would get the chance to graduate from Hogwarts.

Ron told Hermione in great detail how he had arrested Stewart Cornfoot that night when she had already lost consciousness. Sharing their memory of those eventful days lightened the atmosphere noticeably, and soon it almost felt normal again between Hermione and Ron.

Contrary to her fears, it turned out to be a nice evening, and Hermione’s children unwaveringly refused to go to bed before the adults. “If you want to stay up late tomorrow you have to go to bed now,” Hermione warned, gently pushing her kids out of the living room. “The adults won’t stay up much longer either.”

Indeed, everybody went to bed about ten o’clock because the following day was supposed to start early. The first guests were expected at breakfast and the preparations of the party would take a lot of time, too. Hermione, who was assigned for the kitchen together with Ginny, had her hands full from morning to night, wondering whether hiring some house elves wouldn’t have been such a bad idea after all. Little by little the party guests arrived and were instantly greeted by a delicacy from Molly’s recipe collection. The family didn’t have much money but few people were able to hold a candle to Molly when it came to cooking and baking.

Eventually Hermione’s feet hurt so badly that she was more than relieved when Molly announced dinner for seven o’clock. “There will be several courses, so it’s good to start on time,” Molly justified the early dinnertime. “Would you please wake up the kids, Hermione?”

Rose and Hugo had played with Harry and Ginny’s three children in the backyard for hours, and all five of them had been fallen asleep on the sofa during the afternoon tea. Hermione and Ginny had carried their children to their beds so that they would be able to stay awake longer in the evening. “I’d rather let them sleep for a little while longer,” Hermione decided. “They’re often in a bad mood when we interrupt their midday sleep. You don’t want to have that at your party.”

“The kids are only keen on the dessert anyway,” Ginny added. “I’ll wake them up if they haven’t appeared by then.”

Arthur had used an Extension charm so that all the guests were able to sit at a long table, and the loud shuffle of chairs was audible when all attendees took their seats. “I don’t think it’s very polite to start eating as long as some guests are still missing,” Ginny objected, while sitting down next to Hermione. “Where’s McGonagall, by the way?”

“As far as I know she’s still at the birthday party of her cousin,“ Luna Lovegood explained, who sat opposite to Hermione and Ginny. “She’ll be late.”

Unlike Hermione, Luna had kept in contact with the Headmistress after her graduation from Hogwarts. Minerva had tried to convince her to do a Legilimency training, but Luna had hesitated. She said she was aware of too many things anyway, and if she started to read other people’s minds she would soon be hopelessly overwhelmed. But Minerva didn’t back down and insisted Legilimency would be only a question of training and experience. She considered her the perfect person for such a profession.

Hermione understood Minerva’s persistence well. Witches and wizards who were able to do Legilimency were highly coveted and needn’t to worry about their future. Nevertheless, Luna was still indecisive and Minerva had told her she wanted to talk to her at the party.

“I didn’t know McGonagall had some relatives somewhere.“ Ginny raised an eyebrow. “She’s always good for a surprise.”

Hermione was about to say something when she suddenly felt a warm wave running through her body. Minerva had arrived! Instantly, she got so nervous that she didn’t notice the slight vibration in her pocket. Only when the appetizer already hovered over the table, Hermione felt a movement in her pocket and pulled a piece of parchment out if it. She discretely held it under the table to read it: Come outside. M.

“Excuse me, I’ll be back in a second.“ Hermione made a gesture towards the bathroom. After she had left the room she walked straight to the patio door and entered the backyard of the Burrow. For days, Ottery St. Catchpole was covered by a thick, white blanket, and Hermione could hear the snow crunching under her feet as she trudged through the backyard.

It was a starry, cold night and the moonlight was reflected so strongly by the snow that Hermione could see the Headmistress’s silhouette without a problem. Minerva stood in the back of the garden under an apple tree, her eyes fixed on the white fields behind the Burrow. The moonlight made the snow sparkle on the hills as if gems were hidden under it.

Hermione approached her slowly, careful not to draw the attention of the party guests in the house. She stopped about three meters from Minerva. “I missed you,” she said quietly.

Minerva turned towards her. “It was awful, wasn’t it?“

“Horrible.” Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’m so glad you’re here.“ She actually felt the effect immediately. Only looking at Minerva, made her body warmer, and she felt a tremendous urge to wrap her arms around her.

“I thought it’s safer we first meet outside,“ Minerva said into the quietness.

“Minerva…” Hermione took a shaking breath. “May I please kiss you? Just this once? It will warm up both of us.”

When Minerva nodded Hermione stumbled forward. She took Minerva’s face in both hands and kissed her like she had never kissed anyone before. Almost senselessly, she pressed her lips on Minerva’s who responded with the same desperation. At the same moment New Year rockets and firecracker exploded everywhere in the trees. Bright sparks in all colors shot in the sky and rained down on them as dragons, house elves, hippogriffs and unicorns. There was an ear-deafening noise around them but the two women didn’t care. They only had this moment.

“Bloody hell,“ somewhere a male voice cursed, and shortly afterwards George emerged under the apple tree. He stopped abruptly when he recognized the two witches. “Oh… I… ehm… should… better go back… ehm… inside,” he stuttered and turned around as quickly as possible.

Minerva leaned her forehead against Hermione’s. “Great,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry,“ whispered Hermione, whose mind was only slowly coming back.

To Hermione’s surprise Minerva started to chuckle. “How could you know George hid a whole battery of fireworks in the trees?”

“I’m afraid we spoiled his surprise.“ Hermione kissed Minerva one last time. “Do you think we can go inside now?”

“Hm…“ Minerva closed her eyes. “Yellow, orange, red…,” she listed. “As longs as the snow is melting under our feet we’d better stay outside.”

Hermione dared to glance down and there was in fact a puddle of water around their feet. “Then let me hold you for a little while longer,” she said, pulling Minerva back into her arms. She no longer felt the bone-chilling cold. Everything in her was warm and rich and good. “I want you so much,” she whispered into Minerva’s neck. “It drives me out of my mind.“

“Hmm…“ Minerva’s voice sounded two octaves deeper than usual, and Hermione tenderly stroked her back.

“Do you think about our test sometimes?“ Hermione whispered.

“All the time.“ Minerva rested her chin on Hermione’s shoulder.

“Really?“ Hermione’s heart started to beat so wildly she was sure Minerva could feel it through her coat. “Did you come to a …”

“Hermione, please…“ Minerva walked a step back. “Now isn’t the time to discuss this.“

“I know. I’m sorry.“ Only reluctantly Hermione let Minerva’s hand go. “Green… I think we can go inside now.”

They trudged through the snow together, already hearing Molly’s angry voice from outside. “George, this is just irresponsible!” she scolded as Hermione and Minerva entered the room. “Why do you bring fireworks on the market that explode prematurely? That’s life-threatening!”

Looking crestfallen, George sat at the table, in front of him his cold roast venison, enduring his mother’s tirades. The others quietly watched them, evidently indecisive on whose side they should be.

Hermione darted a silent glance at Minerva, clearing her throat. “It wasn’t George’s fault,” she said when Molly paused to take a breath. “His articles certainly are as flawless as always.”

All eyes turned to her and Molly noticed Minerva’s arrival. She interrupted her lecture to welcome her old friend. “How can you say that?” she asked Hermione after she had led Minerva to her seat. “If you work with explosive material, accidents are out of the question. George should know that better than anybody else at this table.”

A fragrant meal appeared on Minerva’s plate and she reached for knife and folk before the roast venison would get cold. “Hermione is right. It wasn’t George’s fault,” she said to Molly. “We accidentally triggered the fireworks.”

“I’m sorry, George.“ Hermione had taken back her seat. “We sometimes have an… energy problem.”

“What kind of energy problem?“ Neville curiously lowered his folk.

“Nothing that couldn’t be fixed,” Minerva explained. “I will repair the firecrackers after dinner.”

“You can’t repair them, Professor,“ George objected ruefully. “The incantation implies a Finite spell.”

“Usually I keep my promises.“ Minerva smiled, and nobody at the table doubted she was able to make the impossible possible.

“So what’s with this energy problem?“ Neville repeated, piling more potatoes on his plate.

When Minerva ignored his question all eyes turned back to Hermione. “Sometimes things explode close to us,” she explained reluctantly.

“Oh, was that the reason you went outside?“ Ginny asked, eagerly interested.

Harry watched the scene with an open mouth and Hermione could literarily see his brain working. “Ginny,” he said eventually, putting his hand on her arm. “Leave them in peace.”

However, this actually well-meant remark caused the opposite. It had finally become completely quiet at the table, and all attendees looked back and forth between Minerva and Hermione.

“Wow!“ Gabrielle shouted. “You kissed, didn’t you?“

“Bullshit“, Ron rebuked her, appalled. “Hermione is into men. If anyone knows that it’s me.”

The fact that neither Hermione nor Minerva uttered a word of protest made him pause. There was an awkward silence in which the attendants obviously gave the two witches the chance to correct the claims. When this didn’t happen confusion spread at the table.

“Let’s stop this interrogation,“ Fleur said to everybody around. “It’s not our business what the two of them are doing in Arthur’s garden. C’est la vie.”

Molly put her hands on her hips. “When George’s entire supply of rockets blows up in my garden this is very well my business,” she said, fuming. “You owe us an explanation, Minerva.”

Minerva put her cutlery aside and took a sip of her red wine. “I love Hermione. Is that explanation enough?”

The salt cellar in front of Hermione burst into a thousand pieces, but before she could react, the Headmistress had already repaired it with a Reparo spell. Loud murmurs broke out, but Hermione heard them only like from far away. Had Minerva really just said that? She wished the Headmistress would at least look at her briefly, but she probably wanted to spare the Weasleys’ dishes. Instead, she dedicated herself to consuming the roast venison with an admirable calmness.

“Is that some kind of soulmate thing?“ Gabrielle asked curiously. “I’ve read about that.”

“Seriously?“ Ginny’s eyes widened. “But that's just a superstition, isn't it?“

“No, but it only seems to happen every hundred years or so, because certain conditions and constellations have to be there.” Gabrielle raised both hands when Ron looked at her skeptically. “Honestly, I read about it,” she insisted. “In a magazine from the Ivory Coast.“

“Gabrielle did an exchange year in Yamoussoukro,” Fleur explained. “They have very different approaches to magic there.”

“My father wrote about magical fields of soulmates, too,” Luna confirmed, pouring some sauce on her potatoes. “They can be very agonizing if you resist them.”

“Luna…“ Rolf patted the arm of his wife. “We all know that Xenophilius has been a bit confused lately.”

But Luna just smiled. “He wrote the article long ago when I was still in school. And he received a lot of letters from readers afterwards.”

Hermione dart a discreet look at Minerva. With Xenophilius Lovegood you never knew whether an article exclusively originated from his brain, or if he had done serious research about the subject. Hermione nevertheless decided to ask Luna for the text in a quiet minute. She was desperate enough to pursue every lead, and Xenophilius had actually enlightened them about the Deathly Hallows.

“When Rolf and I arrived here the energy around Hermione was white,” Luna continued as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Now it’s green.”

It was evident most people in the room considered this just one of Luna’s usual crazy ideas, and Hermione didn’t see a reason to convince them of the contrary. Luna’s faint smile however revealed that she knew exactly what Hermione was thinking.

“Hermione.” Ginny pushed her elbow into her friend’s ribs. “Say something. You started this energy problem stuff after all.”

Hermione looked into the familiar faces. She knew almost everybody since her childhood, and yet she hadn’t told anybody about her secret. Ron sat quietly in front his empty plate, staring dead ahead. Neville, who obviously felt embarrassed by the whole issue, continued to stir in his food with his fork. Harry gave Hermione a discreet thumps up while Ginny and Luna observed her with genuine interest. Molly looked as if she had eaten something bad, and Arthur looked out of the window as if all of this wasn’t his business.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression,“ Hermione said to everybody around. “We aren’t together, if that’s what you think. Minerva is my boss and my supervisor and accordingly, we have to behave appropriately.”

“Oh, that’s what you call it nowadays.“ George grinned broadly. “I’m really sorry I interrupted the two of you. To be honest, I’m not surprised my whole supply blew up.”

Hermione turned bright red and looked at Minerva who acted as if she hadn’t heard George. “I’ve already told you we have an energy problem sometimes,” she responded weekly.

“How thoughtful of you to snog outside,“ Gabrielle chuckled.

“Dear guests.” Arthur rose from his chair, hitting his wine glass with his teaspoon. “Molly and I are glad our last guest has arrived now.” He raised his glass towards the Headmistress. “I’m sorry we welcomed you so badly, Minerva. I think it’s high time we apply ourselves to the dessert now, and I can assure you Molly and I spared no efforts to serve you a real Muggle specialty: A flambéed ice cream bombe!”

That was Molly’s cue to disappear in the kitchen. “We talk later, my dear,” she hissed into Minerva’s ear on her way to the door. “I’m your friend and I had no idea.”

“You hear that?“ Ginny punched Hermione’s shoulder. “Whatever else will happen this night, Molly’s ice cream bombe, Neville’s new quiz, or George’s fireworks, you two are hard to top.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh about Ginny’s mischievous expression. She was so relieved nobody had left the room screaming. Everybody still seemed shocked, but Hermione probably would have reacted the same way if Ginny had told her something like that. The biggest surprise though, had been Minerva’s words that constantly repeated themselves in Hermione’s head like a mantra. Within one hour this dull, cold day had turned into one of the best in her whole life, and that was enough reason to celebrate.

Just in time for the flambéed ice cream bombe, five little heads appeared in the doorframe, and after a brief quarrel every child was allowed to fill the dishes for all guests. After the delicious dessert the guests moved to the living room area where Neville pulled out his box with silly wizard quiz games. This tradition was obviously part of the schedule every year and Neville’s games were infamous. All guests participated in the games, even the children, and the loud laughter finally dispelled the rest of the earlier tense mood. Only Ron seemed more quiet than usual, and Hermione took him aside when he walked into the kitchen to get more beverages.

“I’m sorry you heard it this way, Ron,“ she said, handing him some butterbeer bottles from the counter. “Like I said, Minerva and I are not together. I didn’t even know she…”

“Hermione,“ he interrupted her angrily. “Do you really expect me to believe you didn’t know McGonagall was in love with you while an entire battery of fireworks was exploding around you? I was really worried about you because of Gabrielle. And you… you…” He made a vague gesture with the butterbeer bottles in his hands. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

“Listen to me, Ron.“ Hermione took the bottles from his hand and put them next to the fridge. “What happened between you and me was all real, if that’s what you’re wondering,“ she assured him. “I really loved you, and in a way I still do.”

He nodded, not really convinced. “How long has this been going on with McGonagall?”

“What do you mean? I told you Minerva is my boss and…“

“I mean, how long have you had a crush on her?” he interrupted her impatiently. “Was she the reason why you didn’t want to finish your teacher training at Hogwarts?”

Hermione guiltily looked down at her shoes. “Yes,” she said sincerely. “But there wasn’t anything going on, Ron. Honestly, I had no idea that Minerva…“ She helplessly raised her arms. “I only wanted to avoid her. That‘s why I didn’t want to teach at Hogwarts.“

“Why didn’t you tell me that?“ Ron seemed deeply hurt. “We were together for years, we have children, we’ve been friends since forever. Why didn’t you trust me?“

“I’m sorry, Ron.“ Hermione had no idea how to explain this to him. “I didn’t even trust myself. How could I trust anybody else? It didn’t have anything to do with you.“

“Well, that’s all really weird…” He reached for the bottles again. “If it’s true what Gabrielle was saying, then it’s something really big, and I’m wondering…” He hesitated. “What were we then?”

“We were us, Ron.“ Hermione said it with a tenderness she hadn’t felt for him for a long while. “And we’re still us. Nobody can take this from us.”

“I don’t know.“ He laughed awkwardly. “I think I need time to digest this.“

“I understand.“ She took the rest of the butterbeer bottles and opened the kitchen door. “Are you happy with Gabrielle?“

“Yes, very.“ His face brightened instantly. “Gabrielle is great.“

“That’s wonderful.“ Hermione gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m really happy for you.”

When they came back to the living room Arthur was already pouring champagne into the glasses. “It’s eight minutes to twelve,” he announced. “Take a glass, everybody, before we go to the patio!”

“I’m sure George has prepared some pranks.” Ron put the bottles on the coach table and took himself a glass of champagne. “Take care of the kids when they go outside.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence when Neville could be heard swearing on the patio. He had apparently stepped onto something that had thrown him in the air like a spiral spring. He fortunately landed softly in the snow. Laughing, Hermione beat the snow from his coat and handed him his glass of champagne back. “That won’t be all, so watch out,” she warned Neville.

At the same moment the magic clock of the Weasleys’ struck midnight, and promptly rockets shot into the sky from everywhere. They built wild formations in the sky, fabulous creatures, animals and fantastic beasts showered down on the party guests. “How did you do that, Professor?” George asked, utterly amazed. “I didn’t even notice you left the room.“

Minerva smiled secretly. “Like I said, I usually keep my promises.“

The crowd enthusiastically clapped their hands when new firecrackers shot in the sky again and again. “You outdid yourself this time, George.” Arthur proudly patted his son’s back. “It’s really terrific.“ He had just finished when a colorful metal arm shot out of the bushes, drawing a red heart on his forehead. Everybody laughed but they knew all too well they could be next. In the end, almost nobody was spared from George’s pranks, but most of the guests were used to this ritual and took it in stride.

Hermione already felt tipsy when she toasted to the new year with Minerva, although she had just started her second glass of champagne. “To a happy new year,” she said with a smile, giving Minerva a kiss on the cheek.
“The same to you, Hermione.” Minerva’s eyes reflected red and green sparks that showered down behind Hermione. “If you want to deal with a Scotswoman in the time to come though, you should work on your tolerance for alcohol.”

“It’s not the champagne intoxicating me,“ Hermione countered with a smile.

Minerva chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re not making it easy for me tonight.”

“Oh, good,“ Hermione whispered into her ear. “I’m not alone then.”

 

* * *

 

The mood among the guests was so exuberant that nobody went to bed before four o’clock in the morning. It was tradition all guests stayed at the Burrow overnight since apparating was quite risky with alcohol in the blood. The Weasleys’ home could only offer small rooms but it had countless beds. And the people who weren’t quick enough to get one transformed an armchair into a bed.

“Hermione.“ Molly nervously pushed up her sleeves when she walked to her. “I’m really sorry, but we have a problem with the distribution of the rooms. Originally, I wanted you and Ron to sleep in one room, but since he brought Gabrielle with him, you need to share a room with somebody else tonight.”

“No problem.“ Hermione removed the last glasses from the table and brought them to the kitchen. “Where do you want me to go?”

“Well…“ Molly hesitated. “Neville and George want to share a room because they’re both men.“

Hermione knitted her brows. “You want me to share a room with Minerva?“

Molly nodded awkwardly. “Please don’t take it personal, but right now nobody wants to share a room with one of you and possibly be slayed by a falling object.” She made a snappy move with her wand sending the rest of the dishes into the kitchen. “Neville and George will sleep in the living room, so there’s only Arthur’s study room left where Minerva usually sleeps at New Year’s Eve. But since I know now that you like each other…”

“It’s okay, Molly.” Hermione didn’t want to cause any additional trouble, but inwardly she asked herself how she should break the news to Minerva. She strongly doubted there would be an arrangement which let them both sleep.

As she had assumed, Minerva didn’t appreciate the news at all. “Molly knows very well I always want a room by myself,” she ranted while she sat down on the provisional bed in Arthur’s study room. “It’s been like this for decades!”

“Molly was really sorry,“ Hermione defended her former mother-in-law. “I’m sure she would have offered an alternative if there had been one.”

“The alternative is that you will sleep here, and I will take a long walk.” Minerva put on her coat and her pointed hat. “Or can you think of a possibility where we won’t wake up the entire house because everything here gets broken?”

“Yes, I can think of a possibility.“ Hermione threw her nightgown back into her suitcase. “You will sleep here and I will take a long walk.”

“That’s out of the question.“ Minerva searched for her gloves. “You have children. You need to get some sleep.”

“I am much younger than you.“ Hermione stepped in Minerva’s way. “Please, Minerva. Lie down for a few hours.”

“You are so stubborn,“ Minerva sighed, shaking her head. “All right, what do you think about a walk together? Maybe that way we can both get a little bit of sleep afterwards.”

Instead of an answer, Hermione opened the door, and they snuck out of the house. It was bone-chilling cold outside, and their breath instantly caused small clouds in the air. Nonetheless, Hermione took off her gloves when they left the Weasleys’ grounds. The magical field kept her so warm her cheeks were burning.

The path they took showed car tracks from Muggles so that they didn’t sink very deeply into the snow. For a while they walked silently next to each other, enjoying the quiet around them. After the loud buzz at the party the silence did them good, and Hermione took a deep breath. The moonlight was reflected on the snow giving them enough light to orientate themselves. A wonderful peace surrounded the hilly landscape.

“That was a surprise at dinner.“ Hermione cooled her forehead with a snowball. “Your announcement in front of all the guests.” Minerva’s eyes followed a fawn jumping into the bushes behind its mother, and Hermione involuntarily wondered whether the Headmistress might feel something like hunting instinct in her human form, or if she was just enjoying the young deer. There were still so many things she didn’t know about Minerva.

“I hadn’t dared to hope you would feel that way.“ Hermione tried to speak calmly but the trembling in her voice betrayed her. “I mean, I knew you had feelings for me but…”

“You thought everything blows up around us just like that?“ Minerva smiled. “Or optionally gets broken?”

“No, but…“ Hermione buried her hands in her coat pockets. “What do you think this magical field is? Is it lust? Or love? Or something independent and unique?”

“I guess it's a bit of everything," Minerva responded thoughtfully. “All elements seem to reinforce each other, yet the field must be something separate, otherwise it would react differently. It seems to obey separate rules.”

Hermione involuntarily thought of Gabrielle’s words. “Do you think there’s some truth to Gabrielle’s theory?“

“That it has something to do with spiritual kinship?” Minerva took a deep breath. “It would have very serious consequences.”

“I believe it’s true.“ Hermione spread her arms and looked up to the stars. They sparkled so brightly and clearly as if they had always known. “Gabrielle said out loud what I have felt all my life. I just didn’t know how to express it.”

The fact alone that Minerva didn’t object immediately made Hermione’s pulse soar up to unforeseen heights. For a while they walked silently next to each other, and just when Hermione thought Minerva wouldn’t respond the Headmistress surprised her again. “Maybe I did deny for too long that there has always been a special connection between us,” she said pensively. “Back then… at your job interview in my office… If you hadn’t told me straight to my face you felt something for me, I wouldn’t know to this day why I felt so empty sometimes.”

“Does that mean…“ Hermione interrupted herself when her courage left her. “Does that mean“, she tried again “… you can imagine being with me?“

"Hermione…“ Minerva involuntarily pulled the collar of her coat higher. “This is all so… so different from what I had planned for my life. I made the decision to be alone for the rest of my life more than twenty years ago, and I was comfortable with it. It was a good decision. It felt right.”

“I always only wanted to be with you,” Hermione admitted with a shy smile. “But unlike you I wanted to have a partner and children, so I’ve tried to forget you for years. I got married and tried to get involved with another person. You know the result.”

“You don’t know how it would be if we were together,“ Minerva warned. “Maybe you would hate the way I sort my socks. Or my bad mood when somebody puts something somewhere it doesn’t belong. Or my snoring when I have a cold.”

“You snore?“

“I don’t know, I can’t hear myself when I’m asleep.“ Minerva furrowed her brow. “But I permanently have nightmares of the wars…”

“Me too.“ Hermione stopped and reached for Minerva’s hands. “That’s no reason to stay alone.“

“I’m often on the move at night, roaming my territory,” Minerva continued nervously. “You have no idea what it means to live with an animagus. It would affect our entire life and environment… Not only our… intimacy…”

Hermione only smiled. “Do you honestly believe I haven’t thought about these things?“ She interlaced their fingers. “Maybe there will be things that will bother us about the other, even if I can’t think of anything right now. But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be wonderful. Have you ever thought about that?”

“I don’t know, Hermione…“ Minerva looked up into the night sky. “What if the age gap is too big after all? There are several generations between us…”

Hermione raised Minerva’s hands to her lips and kissed them. “I don’t think the years between us are unbridgeable,” she said softly. “Getting involved with another person is always hard work. We all carry our particularities and weaknesses, but that doesn’t mean we have to stay alone.”

“Yet for some people it might be better to stay alone.“ Minerva’s eyes filled with tears, and Hermione swallowed as she saw the lost expression in them.

“Minerva…“ Hermione lowered Minerva’s hands without letting them go. “You‘ve always lost the people you cared for,“ she said quietly. ”But this isn’t an immutable law. There’s a very good chance we will be happy. For many years actually. You have this great witch gene slowing down the aging process. So when you are 150 and I’m 106 we will be a nice old couple, and people might wonder who is the younger one…”

“Do you honestly believe that?” Minerva shook her head about Hermione’s imagination.

“Yes, I do.“ Hermione tenderly stroke Minerva’s cheek. “Neither you nor I believed we would survive the war against Voldemort. But here we are. And all we can do is trust that somehow everything makes sense.”

Minerva smiled when Hermione kissed her forehead. “If Gabrielle’s soulmate theory is correct I don’t even know whether I have a choice,” she sighed. “Me, who uses every opportunity to emphasize we always have a choice. Yet it seems I have to realize that sometimes things are just the way they are.”

Hermione happily wrapped her arms around Minerva. “Nothing is cast in stone,” she stated. “We can try and see how it works. And if it doesn’t work we will find a way too.”

“But not before the end of your teacher training,” Minerva said strictly. “Absolutely nothing will happen before your exams, and you haven’t even started your traineeship in Charms.”

“Yes, I know.“ Hermione obediently broke the embrace. “I need to talk to Luna about her father’s article, and I need to get that magazine from the Ivory Coast. Maybe I’ll find some tips to deal with a magical field.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t read The Quibbler .” Minerva took Hermione’s hand as they continued their walk. “To be honest, I don’t want to experience something like the last two weeks again,” she confessed. “There must be a way how we can deal with each other without anything getting broken or falling off a wall or exploding, not to mention feeling so cold as if there was a horde of Dementors in the room.“

Hand in hand they strolled through the night and Hermione felt happier than she had ever felt in her entire life. Minerva was next to her, her warm hand in hers, and the connection between them was so present and clear that it flooded through Hermione’s entire being. “I love you so much,” she said from the bottom of her heart. “And I will wait for you, no matter how long it will take.”

Minerva leant toward her and kissed her temple. “I wish we could repeat our test,” she whispered.

“Well, I won’t stand in the way.“ Hermione turned her head so that their lips almost touched. “It would give us some sleep and a few days of rest.”

“Now?“ Minerva drew back immediately. “I told you just a minute ago that we shouldn’t…“

“Yes, I know.“ Hermione slowly ran her fingertips along Minerva’s chin and up to her ear. “But we could cheat a little bit and let the rules be valid only after we’re back at Hogwarts.”

“We are in the middle of nowhere…“

“It’s the perfect place.“ Hermione pointed at the white wideness. ”And the magical field will keep us warm.“

“You’re a very bad influence on me.“ Minerva led her away from the path to a snow-covered field. “But I love you anyway.” She pushed Hermione into the snow and kissed her.

At once, the white splendor around them started to melt and Minerva had to use a drying spell so that the wetness dripped off of them. It was indeed the perfect place. Above them the stars and around them only fields. And no one saw the two bodies tenderly rolling around in the snow, loving each other for the very first time without a time limit, or a guilty conscience, and without glass bursting or firecrackers exploding. And so that night a connection was finally sealed that had been predestined from the beginning, and that would last on this earth more than eighty happy years.

 

* The End *