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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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"It has been nine years since that kiss. I can't help but reminisce. Hey, Minerva, do you remember?" – 'Michel', by Anouk

2007

Finally having succeeded in finding what she had been looking for, Hermione reached for the bottle of liquor at the back of the cabinet. She had been all over in search of something slightly stronger than the Butterbeer and not so very good Firewhiskey taking up most of the staff room cabinet. Hermione eyed the label of the bottle in her hand and deduced that she couldn't read much as it was all very tiny lettering, and the rather bad light didn't help at all. With a wave of her hand, the bottle uncorked itself, and she carefully took the cork off, lowering her nose to the neck of the bottle to smell and not detecting anything else but the smell of good, old malt. She thoughtfully took a glass off the high upper layer as well – barely able to reach it while on her tiptoes, before swaying the cabinet door shut with a neatly placed sway of her hip and taking the uncorked bottle and the glass back to the table.

She was all alone in the staff room, as usual. She somehow liked that; wasting away time while running through her pupils' papers and such there, rather than in her office. Her office was nice and all – that was not the issue. Minerva had given her free reign to change it all to her taste… Maybe that was the real issue: Minerva. The office had belonged to the ruling Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry once. Professor Perette had been there in the meantime as well, but still …

Professor Perette had proven to be a good successor for her when Minerva had become Headmistress – of course never better or even half as good as Minerva herself. Then again that was impossible. The nine years in which she had been the Professor of Transfiguration she had done her job very well. It had been her choice to leave, because she had chosen to have more time with her family… and now somehow Hermione had rolled into the job.

She kicked off her heavy boots and reached down to undo her socks to give her feet and toes some more freedom, then reached for her glass, raising it to her lips and downing half of it before setting it down again. She squeezed her eyes shut as the heavy alcoholic liquid went down her throat. Minerva… Minerva had been the reason why she was sitting there now. She had been the one to save her. Hermione truly didn't know if, had she not come in at the right moment, she would still even be alive. Her life had taken such a different course after that one kiss in 1998; the kiss she still recalled as if it had been only yesterday ...

"You're beautiful," she whispered, and she knew Minerva could feel her breath on her lips as she carefully stood on tip-toes to reach Minerva's level. Minerva's eyes intuitively closed at the sensation – one she hadn't actually felt in years.

… one Hermione had never felt until then and would never feel again either. Hermione sighed, shaking her head in a vain effort to wipe the much relived memory from her mind, even if only for the time being. She had hopelessly tried to wipe it away for nine years now, but still she had not succeeded. She had tried not to compare Ron's kisses to Minerva's, but every time they had kissed, she had not been able to stop it. Maybe it was for the better that Ron and she were no longer married… Hermione sank further down in her chair and downed the rest of the glass in one go. This time she didn't even close her eyes as the malt touched her tongue.

Maybe it never should have happened between her and Ron. After all, she could have guessed how it would all turn to be. Their marriage had been nothing different from how their companionship had been all these years: with a lot of ups and downs like maybe every other marriage, but their downs had only critically increased since their wedding day until they finally found themselves without ups …

What she regretted most in her life was backpedalling on Minerva and running away right when she could have had the chance to be happy with her. However, the intensity of that little touch of lips had overtaken her and made her feel something so powerful and strong she had gotten scared of it. Kissing Ron had never been very special, but at least it had felt safe. On the other hand, the effect Minerva had had on her and possibly still had, had made Hermione doubt if she could still even trust herself to be alone with the Headmistress in one room. She couldn't say what she possibly would do. Her feelings for Minerva were so intense that she might do anything from slightly overstepping her boundaries to marginally going over the line, and she had gone way over the line as a pupil already…

Ron and she had ended up together somehow that Easter and of course there had never been spoken about the thing with Minerva anymore. She had committed to Ron, trying to forget about the soul stirring kiss. And that's where she had made a capital mistake. She had made the capital mistake of saying yes to marrying him with that still in her head, when Ron had not wanted to look weak in comparison with Harry and had offered her a stunning ring a month after Harry had asked Ginny to get married. Ginny had rather coincidentally discovered she was carrying their first child two days after and had gotten married when five months along, while Ron and she had gotten married the year after, to live in a small house close to the Weasleys.

They hadn't willingly tried for a child, but just seen how things would go along. Hermione was actually quite astounded it had actually taken them four years, considering the lot of fights between them and the repetitive make-up sex after each time. Her marriage with Ron had already nearly only consisted of fights by the time she too discovered she was having a baby, though. She had not been very sure about raising a child in such situation, but she had chosen to be honest with Ron, and once he had known that he was going to be a father, there was no way she could have shared with him the doubts she had had. After all, he truly seemed to have changed that day, putting her for everything. He had, after what she heard of colleagues, never worked so hard at the ministry; he would do basically most of the household forbidding her of helping, asking her how she was holding up and if he could do anything for her multiple times a day. She had already discovered about the baby fairly early, and if her marriage with Ron had not already been doomed to fail since the beginning, she would have regretted not having waited a little while before informing him. She had after all not had a lot of issues with morning sickness or anything. It would have been easy to hide from her often imperceptible husband.

Disaster had well struck while four months along and all help had been too late when she woke up in the middle of the night with heavy cramping and bleeding, though. Ron had not known what to do and had Apparated to the Burrow as a first thought. He had been back in minutes with Mrs. Weasley with him, but after having had seven children and a couple of miscarriages in between herself, she had known what was going on at once, and that little could be done to stop nature. She had nursed Hermione through the first few days with some potions against the pain and traditional Muggle hot water bottles.

Ron had been shocked at first – mostly by the fact a woman could still lose a child after three months along seeing that was often said to be the critical phase and seeing that Hermione's gynecologist had stated all was just fine on the last check-up one week earlier. Once the initial shock had been over, and no one could give him a reason for the miscarriage, he had turned his anger upon his wife. She had been able to bear it for about two months until she couldn't take it anymore and had moved in with her mother and father again for the time being, at the same time entirely resigning at the ministry instead of extending sick leave. He had written twice the first week, but that had been it. He had no longer tried after she had not written back. Yeah, he had Apparated there once as well in the second week, but she had asked her mother to send him away. He had not come back. She had never returned 'home' again, but then again the house she had called 'home' had never really been her home at all.

She had forever known that somehow Ron and her marriage would be challenging to say the least and so it wasn't as if one morning she woke up asking herself what she was doing with him; no, one day when she had marginally regained from the miscarriage and the blame which he bestowed upon her often, she woke in her bedroom at her mother and father's house asking herself what was the matter with her to still having married him even though her doubts.

And then somehow Minerva had come to the rescue, appearing at the house of the Grangers asking how Hermione was doing. It had been rather a surprise considering she and Minerva had never even really talked without others at least possibly listening along, nor more than the strictly necessary in nine years. Hermione had voiced that thought, and Minerva's answer had been the diplomatic one, saying she had been sad to hear about the miscarriage and was very sorry, then asking about her resigning and her divorce.

It had appeared all over the Daily Prophet and thus Hermione hadn't been very surprised to find Minerva knew about it; even if it hadn't been all over the Wizarding newspaper, she still wouldn't have been surprised. She, however, had been surprised to hear Minerva's offer. She had offered Hermione a place to work at Hogwarts for the next school year if she was maybe interested and wanted to broaden her horizons if she would like to. Hermione had asked for a few days of thought. She had sent her response by owl four days later. And now it was the end of September and Hermione's third week as a professor at Hogwarts was setting in.

Hermione tipped back her head and downed her second glass in one go. As she quietly put her glass back on the table, her head felt woozy; feeling the effect of too much of well concentrated malt in too little time. However, as everything shifted into focus again, Hermione smiled wide and began laughing, aloud. The last time she had really been intoxicated had been her wedding day. Truth told, she had never even recalled more than the ceremony…

Professor Flitwick had been the last one to leave with Professor Sprout about half an hour earlier then, and she really didn't feel like reading through any more fourth year papers anymore. Besides, she still had a sense of mind and knew it would not be intelligent to grade the other quarter now. It would not be fair to the others… or maybe the other way around.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see the little Muggle radio sitting on the lower cabinet on the other side of the room. A wave of her wand turned the sound on, and the last verses of one of the Weird Sisters' hits filled the room. Disinterested, she waved her wand once again to search for a Muggle radio station. It had been ages since she had gone clubbing in Muggle London – ten years, in fact. The last time had been her own hen party…

As the familiar chords of Bon Jovi's You Give Love A Bad Name filled the room, Hermione couldn't help but chuckle as she rose and began dancing and screaming with at the top of her lungs like she never had; as if her life depended upon it. This song had been a hit when she hadn't even known yet she was a witch. She hadn't heard it in many years… When she turned around, and found her glass too far off, but the bottle right close enough, she just reached for the bottle, never noticing how uncontrolled her moves on the music became… And before the song had ended, she had nearly tripped over her feet twice, and her bellowing had reached the kitchen, stirring the House Elves… Hermione never even saw Ditzy Apparating into the staff room and then Disapparating again… to the Headmistress' office…

Ditzy was not very surprised to see Minerva still sitting behind her desk, her eyeglasses perched on the top of her nose as her teal green eyes scanned the vellum before her, her hand moving across it as she wrote her reply and occasionally dipping her quill into the ink well beside it, as she busied with responding to her load of correspondence. The House Elf didn't dare interrupt the Headmistress in her doings and wanted to wait by the door with her head down until at least that letter was done. Minerva, however, beat her to the punch, slowly lowering her quill and raising her head to look at the tiny female House Elf. "Yes, Ditzy?" she questioned, a small smile on her lips as she kindly addressed the tiny creature by name.

"I is very sorry to disturb you, Professors McGonagall," Ditzy began.

"Oh, don't be," Minerva said. "What's the matter?"

"Professors Granger, Headmistress."

Minerva's eyebrow quirked upon the comment from the little House Elf. Hermione? "Ditzy, what do you mean?" Minerva questioned, unconsciously taking her wand and already moving to rise, her correspondence suddenly not of importance anymore. "What's the matter with Her– Professor Granger?"

"Professors Granger has been consuming of the old malt in the staff room," Ditzy said, recounting what she had seen.

Minerva's eyes closed for a few heartbeats, and the Headmistress replied the House Elf with her eyes still tightly shut. "I'm much obliged for you telling me, Ditzy. I'll address the issue myself at once." A faint pop announced the Elf Disapparating to the kitchens once again. Minerva then opened her eyes and momentarily shook her head. Before the door fell shut behind her, she had turned in a grey tabby cat, running in the direction of the staff room.

Once she had reached the at grade hallway and could hear from a distance the noise Ditzy had warned about, Minerva turned into a woman once again, thoughtfully waving her wand and casting the most powerful silencing charm that she knew hoping to spare the whole castle from waking up… She took a deep, steadying breath as she reached the door of the staff room; a little breathless from the run and unprepared for what she would possibly be seeing once the door opened.

No matter what she had in mind stroked with what she actually did find. Hermione was atop of the large wooden table in the staff room, using the long downed bottle of old malt as some microphone as she danced and sang along to the music coming from the radio that was usually there only for decoration. Hermione didn't even notice her coming in as she bellowed the chorus louder than ever, "She's a maaaneater! Make you work hard! Make you spend hard! Make you want all of her love!"

A wave of her wand turned off the radio, and Hermione sang a few more words before realizing what had happened. As she eyed everything around her and found the radio no longer blasting, but the Headmistress standing by the table with an unreadable expression on her face, her knees weakened, and she slowly sank down on them, before crawling to the edge of the table. "Minerva!" She exclaimed, opening her arms as if to envelop the elder woman in a hug. Minerva, however, was farther away than Hermione would have guessed, and the Headmistress only barely in time managed the steps forward that were needed for Hermione not to catch around thin air. All Hermione's weight suddenly rested on the Headmistress as she rightly wrapped her arms around the elder woman's shoulders and rested her head in the crook of Minerva's neck. Minerva wandlessly summoned the nearest chair underneath her and sat, allowing Hermione to hold onto her for a bit.

"That's like the worst lie ever," Hermione whispered after a few minutes of quiescence. "I'm madly in love with a woman and have been since I was in my late teens…" Another silence fell over them, and Hermione allowed herself to slide down on Minerva's lap, straddling her. She slowly loosened her grip on the elder woman and leaned back a little to make their eyes meet. "I'm sorry for running then," she apologized, suddenly no longer sounding so inebriated anymore and tears filling up her eyes. "I never would have married him. I would have been happy with you," she said, as the first tears began to slide down her cheeks.

Minerva was somehow grateful that Hermione had lowered her head so that she could not see Minerva biting down on her lip. "You can't know that, Hermione," Minerva whispered, unconsciously stroking through the long unruly hair of the former Weasley. She sighed, allowing the particular lavender scent of Hermione to penetrate her nostrils and wash over her being. And then those lips…

Hermione tenderly ran her lips over the joint that attached Minerva's shoulder to her neck, tracing it. "Hermione, stop."

"Why?" Hermione whispered, continuing.

"Hermione," Minerva breathed, making the younger witch lean back again and actually look at her finally. Minerva's mouth opened, ready to try convince Hermione not a lot had changed since their last conversation; that she had only gotten even older, that… but Hermione appeared to have anticipated what she was about to say, and a soft forefinger came to rest on her lips to keep her from speaking.

"Minerva. A lot of things have changed as well. I am no longer your pupil. I'm free to love you now, and you're …" She didn't dare finish that thought. If Minerva didn't love her, she didn't want to hear it. She lowered her head. "I never should have married Ron… I still love you more than anything. I have never been able to forget that kiss either. I have tried, but I couldn't."

"I haven't either," Minerva admitted, and Hermione's head rose again.

"Really?" Hermione questioned, watching Minerva's weak nod. They would need to work together on talking about feelings… Hermione unconsciously licked her lips. "What would you say about a repeat performance then?" She asked rather cheekily, slowly leaning in to kiss away Minerva's uncharacteristic grin.
- 7
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- 9
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When Nothing Leads To Something & Everything