Chapter Text
‘I hope that is alcohol-free.’
Hermione jumped, spilling her Butterbeer on the newly restored floor of the Great Hall.
‘Now look what you’ve done! And I’ll let you know I’m over 17,’ she raised an eyebrow.
She thought that the Headmistress needed a reminder from time to time that she wasn’t a child anymore.
‘And I will remind you that this is still my School and you are still my student.’
‘It’s the summer break. And it was alcohol-free. And it was my last bottle,’ Hermione grimaced.
‘Oh, stop pouting, Miss Granger. We’ll go to Hogsmeade. I’ll treat you to a fresh one.’
Hermione wanted to ask the obvious ‘when’, but thought better of it.
One wouldn’t just invite Minerva McGonagall for a drink.
‘I think the Hall is done,’ she said stretching her back. It felt as good as the sounds made by the pops reverberating on the walls.
‘We’ve had enough for one day. I finished the flying courtyard today with Professor Hooch. Professor Flitwick tells me the Ravenclaw tower and Slytherin dungeon are also done, which leaves us only with a few finishing touches. We’ll tackle them in the next few days.’
‘Whatever will we do with the rest of the vacation?’ Hermione feigned innocence.
‘Devour the library, I am sure,’ the Headmistress rolled her eyes.
‘Madam Pince still gives me the side eye every time she sees me wandering off into the restricted section.’
‘Aye, she’s not happy about that. I had to conduct severe negotiations on your behalf.’
Hermione saw an opportunity to push the subject.
‘Professor, are you trying to make me buy the drinks?’
‘Am I?’
The Professor left the Great Hall with a devilish smile, but turned as she reached the main staircase.
‘Half an hour by the north gate?’
Hermione's heart somersaulted.
More than that. It won gold in the Olympics!
⭐️
Hermione’s panic attacks had a knacker for kicking in at the wrong times.
This was the wrong time.
She spent the better part of the summer at Hogwarts, helping the staff restore the Castle.
And for the better part of it, she thought she did alright. There were some parts of the Castle that would push back here and there, and the Headmistress had to intervene.
‘The Castle trusts you. You are one of the very few who hold this privilege. But it too went through severe trauma. Some parts of it need more patience,’ the Professor had told her one particular evening when Hermione was working near the Potions classroom.
In all this time, the Professor had remained… that. Her Professor. Guiding her, helping her, teaching her.
Hermione wanted all of that and much more.
This was not a good time for her fears to kick in.
She was going for a walk and a butterbeer. With the woman that occupied her mind day and night.
She tried breathing in deeply and when that did not work, she got out of the shower, realising that the lack of oxygen wasn’t doing any good.
While choosing her attire, which almost always consisted of a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Hermione remembered the first time the Professor called her by her given name.
It was back when they defeated Voldemort. That seemed so long ago now.
When she entered the Great Hall and her eyes fell on the Headmistress, she let go of Ron and ran directly into the older woman’s arms.
‘Hermione,’ the Professor whispered in her ear, holding her with surprising force.
There weren’t enough Voldemorts in the galaxy to make the girl’s heart stop as it did back then.
Unfortunately, it was the only time the Professor had called her that. But she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last.
She nurtured the dream of one day being Minerva’s reason for smiling out of nowhere.