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When Nothing Leads To Something & Everything	By : McGonagall Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 8812 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series by any means, and I wish that I made any money of this. I don't.

Chapter List
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Hermione had been so absorbed reading through the list of questions she had noted down to ask Professor Perette concerning the paper on Transfiguration that was due next Wednesday, that she felt rather surprised to have reached the staff room already. The fact that it was a lovely Sunday afternoon and the weather appeared unusually good for the second day in row didn't keep her off working. After having worked until after midnight to finally finish the paper for Professor Binns – sooner than she would have estimated when beginning to work – Hermione had thought it fitting to continue with the next assignment. She, however, had encountered some little issues doing so and had written the most essential questions down on a piece of parchment and had resolved to ask the professor about them. Professor Perette hadn't seemed to have been in her classroom nor office, though. Thus Hermione had nearly automatically made for the staff room, taking her very last chance to get answers that day.

She naturally raised her hand to knock, just when the door was thrown open and revealed the tall, slender figure of the Headmistress. "Miss Granger!" Minerva exclaimed, one hand reaching for her chest at the shock of nearly running into her pupil. "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall," Hermione greeted. "I was actually looking for Professor Perette. I have tried her office and then the Transfigurations classroom, but she didn't appear to be there, and so I thought I would come by to see if maybe she was in the staff room. I have got a number of questions about the paper that's due next Wednesday."

Minerva's eyebrow quirked. She nodded. "Well, I'm afraid Professor Perette won't be at Hogwarts until tonight. She usually goes home to be with her family at the weekends."

"Oh," Hermione managed. "I'll…" She momentarily shook her head, then turned, purposefully walking slow so that she and McGonagall would be walking together. So both women made their way up the stairs together in silence, neither of them feeling either comfortable or uncomfortable with the silence lingering between them, yet choosing not to break it unless necessary. Hermione thus took the opportunity to watch Professor McGonagall a little bit closer and noticed the ever increasing difficulty she was finding from one staircase to the next. She leaned upon the rails more heavily with each flight of stairs, and even though it was rather obvious Minerva tried to hide the pain as much as possible, Hermione could still see how labored the elder woman's breathing became. The necessity to finally break the silence arose when instead of turning to the left at the top of the seventh floor staircase, Hermione turned right to accompany the Headmistress to her office again, much like the day before.

"There's no need to accompany me again. I'm sure you have got other things to do, which are undoubtedly of more importance."

Hermione shrugged. "I'm kind of stuck with the paper, and since Professor Perette isn't at Hogwarts to ask her about it… I have already finished the rest of my assignments, and I don't feel like going and basking in the sun like the others – that's not my kind of thing. Are you feeling better than yesterday?"

"I am," Minerva replied, her voice unusually soft. Hermione suspected that maybe she wasn't being truthful, but she didn't say anything. They fell in a silence again, that lasted until both women reached the gargoyles guarding the moving winding staircase to the circular Headmistress office. "Ginger Newt," Minerva called, watching as the gargoyles politely nodded at her and moved aside to let her through. She briefly looked aside and quirked her eyebrow at Hermione, but didn't say anything. The silence continued just the same as Hermione stepped onto the spiral staircase after Minerva and allowed herself to be lead to and through the dark oaken door to the office.

Hermione quietly waited until the door fell closed behind her and Minerva finally turned to face her again. She sighed. "I don't believe you're any better than yesterday. You…"

"Miss Granger, I think I still know my own body best!" Minerva countered, her voice raising to the kind of tone she usually kept for the most annoying pupils. She didn't need the hiss of Albus to know she had made quite a mistake; the expression of the younger Gryffindor before her told her quite enough. Minerva clasped one hand over her eyes, rubbing them, then lowered it again to her back. What was the point of hiding it any longer? She couldn't seem to hide anything from the pupil after all. She fleetingly eyed her former best companion in his frame, looking worried and saddened. Minerva let out a shaky breath and stepped closer to her pupil, who had lowered her head by now. Minerva thus reached for Hermione's face, bringing it upward until teal green met hazel. The slight move caused a tear to run down from the younger Gryffindor's eye over her cheek, gaining pace until reaching her jaw line and then slowing to linger for a bit then falling onto the collar of her shirt. Another tear followed suit, originating in the girl's other eye. This one, however, did not get the chance to run its course down Hermione's other cheek, for Minerva caught it with her thumb, with a tenderness few people would ever associate with the stern Headmistress. "I apologize – again," Minerva whispered and sighed before admitting, "I shouldn't get mad at you for telling the truth." She wiped another stray tear off Hermione's cheek with the back of her fingers, letting it linger a bit longer than necessary. "I don't know why I…" Minerva fell silent at the lie beginning to make its way past her lips. Of course she did know why.

Minerva, who had little to no recollection of her mother and her younger sister Metheora, had been raised by her father, who had worked very hard to give his daughters everything. They hadn't been very wealthy, but he had made sure to give his little girls everything they needed – to give them enough money for new school robes, books and other necessities. He was often away from home and already at a rather young age Minerva had been forced to be independent and take care of not only herself but her younger sister as well. And then in the war with Grindelwald, Gideon McGonagall had gotten killed, together with his youngest daughter while in transit to the safety of the Ministry whilst he and his eldest daughter fought. Minerva had only just finished her Auror training and had been sent on another raid. She had heard the news upon arriving back at the Ministry; her robes torn in several places, her hair extremely disheveled, the edges of her customary plait burnt and her entire body covered with several cuts and bruises. They had been attacked by a group of Grindelwald's followers. They had never stood a chance. Her father, who had then been Head Auror and her sister had never gotten a reasonable burial in the commotion of the fight. Dumbledore had taken over the lead of the Aurors and had brought the great Grindelwald down on his knees a week after. Minerva had gotten a medal for all her father had done for the British Wizarding Community and his bravery in the battle, together with a good sum of money as some kind of repayment for all she'd lost. It didn't actually bring her father or sister back, nor did it aid her in building up the home in which she had once lived happily. She had rebuilt it alone and resigned at the Ministry at once. She had always been proud of her father; maybe then more than ever.

She hadn't been able to live like that. She just hadn't been strong enough to go on with it anymore after the battle and had lived in Paris as a Muggle for a while – working first in a library, which had helped her to master the language after a while by reading through books when she had some time and teaching herself, and then as a governess.

After six years in Paris, Minerva had gotten married to a man who had cheated on her nearly since the beginning of their two year relationship, lost his unborn child in a miscarriage in the commotion of their divorce (which Minerva had requested two days after she had finally discovered all about her husband's cheating, and which was finalized within a month), had gotten engaged again to another man less than a year after she had last seen her ex spouse and had called off the wedding last minute, having realized what she was actually doing: she was throwing herself desperately in the arms of people who only even seemed to like her, hoping for some happiness.

Albus Dumbledore had come to the rescue. Rather surprisingly, he had showed up on her doorstep asking if she was maybe interested in teaching Transfiguration at Hogwarts when Armando Dippet had resigned as a Headmaster. She had thought maybe that was something for her and had agreed without much thinking, never even saying goodbye to her ex fiancé.

She had devoted herself to teaching, trying to gain as much happiness from it as possible. Albus, her former Transfiguration teacher, and she had become colleagues and close companions through the years. He was right there for her – unconditionally. He offered a listening ear and a good hug when needed. She rarely made use of it, but it was enough to keep her upright and going. A part of her secretly hoped for some happiness through the first years, but the last two decades, it had been exchanged with regret for never having found it.

Of course she knew why she reacted just the way that she did, toward Hermione. She knew from experience that she had a weak spot for anyone who even appeared to care about her, which had never ended up good in the past and thus certainly wouldn't in the future either.

She had usually been the one taking care of others. Minerva wasn't used to being taken care of or even worried about, but that didn't mean that the thought of allowing another to do so wasn't very tempting. She had worked years to perfect her façade: a layer of strictness and rare smiles that hid her dreams and hopes, wishes and deep desires from view… but it didn't make it any easier to bear it every second in which she wasn't alone.

Maybe she wasn't worthy of being worried about in the first place. She was nothing but damaged, old goods. The whole situation with Voldemort, which had actually cost Minerva her best companion's life, brought up the memories of the time with and losses due to Grindelwald. The war might have been over, but the memories and pain weren't. Minerva even doubted if they ever could. With Albus, the last person she ever had trusted, even though he truly hadn't been more but her best companion, had died… like all the others. She would not allow her guards to go down with another and wait until another villain came by and took away the one she had gotten attached to that time. Letting her guard down was something hard and difficult to begin with. It just wasn't worth it. She would not once again throw herself in the arms of another, grow attached and then die a little more again when it ended either by another war or by inequality between her and her lover. Inequality was something that was almost sure to be involved between a teacher and a pupil – a relationship which was plain wrong in every way to begin with.
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When Nothing Leads To Something & Everything