Chapter Text
Sitting in what had quickly become her spot at the end of the Gryffindor table, Hermione furiously wrote away on her weekly letter to Regina. The students had learnt the hard way not to interrupt or try to read what she was writing after one nosey fifth year had tried to talk to her. The only person courageous enough to attempt to anymore was Neville, the only other Gryffindor who had returned to finish his schooling. The two had grown closer since their return; sharing the same pain that everyone assumed was from the trauma of battle. Neither were willing to share what the real cause was, and that was just fine with the other.
Across from her, Neville flipped the page of his potions book, glancing up at the silent girl as he did so. She was finishing off the letter she had been working on all breakfast when movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Turning around, he looked at the Headmistress as she stood form her seat, drawing the attention of the students.
“As you all know, the Christmas holidays are drawing near, and as it is the first without the threat of Voldemort hanging over us, the rest of the Professor’s and I have decided that there will be a ball held on Christmas eve.” She waited for the chatter to die down before continuing, “It is open to all, so if you wish, you can invite your family. That is all.” With that, the emerald clad woman turned and left the hall.
Turning back to his book, he waited until he saw Hermione roll the parchment up before speaking, “Have you decided on whether or not you’ll be staying for the holidays?”
Summoning a strand of blood red ribbon, she magically tied it around the parchment, “No. You?”
He shook his head, “I figured I’d stay and help Professor Sprout, but Gran wants me to come home.”
Hermione smiled in sympathy. Leaning over the table, she covered his hand with her own, “Well, if I decide to leave for the season, you can come with me and get away from everything.”
Smiling back, Neville nodded, “I think I’d like that.”
“Good,” She said, standing up, “Meet you in the library?” She asked, shouldering her backpack.
“Yeah.”
Nodding once more Hermione turned and left the hall, wondering if she should stay in the castle for the holidays.
A week later Hermione walked down the hallway leading to the library reading the letter she had received that morning from Regina. It was an invite to stay with her over the holidays. As she read through it, she seriously considered going back to New York. She missed her new friend, and it would be just the thing for Neville. Turning the corner, she turned the page over, not noticing the two conversing Professors ahead of her.
“Will you be bringing a date to the Yule Ball Minerva?” Filius asked, looking up at the head.
Chuckling dryly, Minerva shook her head, “Come now Filius, you should know better by now.”
Laughing along with his long-time friend, he turned, spotting Hermione, “And what about you Miss Granger? Will you be bringing a date?”
Hearing her name, Hermione looked up, “Pardon Professor?”
“Will you be accompanied to the Yule Ball?” He asked, smiling slightly.
Blinking, Hermione slowly folded the letter up, “I was considering returning to New York for the season,” She said, glancing down at the paper in her hand. Tapping it against the palm of her hand, she felt herself smirk, “Although, I think I might just invite her here.”
Frowning, Minerva jumped in, “You do remember Miss Granger, that muggles cannot enter the grounds.”
Arching her brow, Hermione’s smirked even more, “Oh she is no muggle Headmistress.” She drawled, the older witches title falling from her lips like honey. Nodding to the diminutive Professor, she continued on her way to the library, leaving the two heads to watch her in surprise.
“She has changed.” Flitwick said.
Minerva hummed, “Mmm, yes she has.”
A few days later Hermione received an answer to her invitation to the ball. During her first lesson of the day, a small horse, no larger than a hand, galloped into the room on a cloud of purple smoke. Holding out her hand for the small winged horse to land on, Hermione smiled, gently scratching the top of his head.
“Hello Articus.”She whispered, mindful of the other students.
The tiny transparent horse butted his head against Hermione’s finger, causing her to smile once more, “Yes, yes, you’re a pretty boy,” She chuckled, “Now are you going to tell me what she said?” She asked, not noticing the set of green eyes watching her closely.
Flicking his mane, Articus let out a soft whine before a velvety voice started speaking, “I would love to escort you to a ball darling; it has been far too long since I’ve gone to one.”
Hermione gave a small snort; she knew exactly why she hadn’t gone to any.
"Shall we meet for lunch today? You can explain to me what I’ll need for a holiday in Scotland. Talk soon dear.” As Regina’s message finished, Articus shook his head, his long mane flying around wildly.
“Will you be staying pretty boy?”
Nodding his head, he let out a series of quiet snorts, amusing Hermione. Bringing her hand up to her shoulder, she let him walk from her hand, “Very well, stay quiet.”
Neighing softly in her ear, he settled down and slept.
Dropping her hair over her shoulder, she returned to her work, still not having noticed the curious expression on her professor’s face.
When the lesson was over, Minerva looked to her prized pupil, bright eyes falling to the partially visible patronus she could see still resting on the girls shoulder. “Miss Granger,” She called, “Could you stay behind please?”
Looking up at the woman, she shouldered her backpack and walked up to stand in front of her desk. She waited for the older witch to speak, but when she didn’t, she arched her brow in silent question.
Realizing Hermione wasn’t going to say anything, Minerva cleared her throat, “I noticed that you received a patronus during class.”
Again Hermione stayed silent, waiting for the older witch to ask what she wanted to know.
Becoming flustered, Minerva shuffled some of the papers on her desk, “I also noticed that after delivering its message, it didn’t fade.”
Sighing, Hermione readjusted her bag, “What is it you wish to know Headmistress?”
“How did it not fade? It is impossible for them to stay corporal after a certain amount of time.”
Hermione smirked, “As impossible to put an object in a completed portrait I’d say.”
Lips pursing, Minerva narrowed her eyes at the clearly amused girl, Yes, I was also wondering how you managed that feat of magic.”
“What can I say; I learnt a lot while away.” She tilted her head, still smirking, “Is that all Headmistress?”
“You won’t tell me how you have managed to accomplish the impossible, are you Miss Granger.”
Any trace of emotion vanished, “No,” Hermione said sharply, “I doubt I will tell you much of anything again Headmistress.”
Surprised at the sudden change, Minerva didn’t stop the girl as she spun around and left. Watching after her student, she spotted a small transparent head poke out from between the thick locks of hair. Even from the back of the room, Minerva could swear the miniature horse was glaring at her.
The day before the ball arrived oddly warm. It was still cool enough to need to wear a jumper, but as most of the students had grown used to the weather, most were only wearing jeans and long sleeved shirts. Minerva herself was wearing lighter robes, something that surprised some of the students who had only ever seen her in her thick teaching robes. Shaking her head, she walked around, looking for Hermione and her guest. She had run into Filius not long after breakfast who had told her that the girls date had arrived.
Walking passed the courtyard; she stopped when she heard the unmistakable laugh of the young woman she was looking for. Closing her eyes, she savoured the sound she had not heard in well over a year. Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked out at the empty yard, quickly finding Hermione and her guest tucked away in one of the stone arches. She couldn’t see much of the woman other than the shoulder length hair and black trench she was wearing. Straightening up, she walked out into the courtyard.
“Miss Granger, Professor Flitwick informed me that your guest had arrived.”
Standing up, Hermione gestured for the other woman to stand as well. “Headmistress, Regina Mills.”
Turning to face the other woman, Minerva felt her eyes widen when she realized that she was older then she had expected. Recovering quickly, she stretched out her hand, smiling politely.
Looking at her friend who was smiling at her former mentor, Hermione continued, “Regina, Headmistress McGonagall.”