Well, here it is. The third and final installment of "The Other Side of the Story". I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this unique story. Thank you all for your support! It means more than you know!

"Hermione," Ron's voice said with surprise. "When did you get in , babe?"

Hermione rolled over, groaning. She had 'gotten in' after three in the morning, after being unceremoniously taken from her peaceful slumber next to...Minerva... and then deposited in the nude, in the middle of the same street she'd been taken from when the first switch was made. Thankfully, no one was around, and she had gathered her wits and apparated directly to her front door, entering quickly without bothering to check for onlookers.

"Late," she muttered. "Let me sleep for a few more hours, Ron. It's been a long week."

"About that, where have you been? It's been forever since you took a ministry assignment," Ron asked, sitting up. "What brought that on?"

"It was an assignment for the Unspeakable Department," Hermione lied, quickly putting together that unlike her, the alternate reality Hermione had not taken her place whilst they were switched. "I can't talk about it. As to why I took the assignment..."

She paused, trying to come up with a good excuse that wasn't so far from the truth that she'd forget.

"Yea?" Ron asked.

"It was a favor for the Headmistress," she replied, thinking that would give her a believable story, and an excuse to go see Minerva later today or tomorrow.

"Okay," Ron accepted with a chuckle. "You never could turn down a request from her. I guess, even all these years later, some things never change. Bloody teacher's pet," he teased.

"Ronald, I'm tired." Hermione sighed. "Tell the kids not to make plans this afternoon. I want to spend some time with them now that I'm back."

To be truthful, she just wanted to make sure they were her kids. Rose and Hugo, rather than Lavender's Rose and Luka.

"Hey Ron?" Hermione asked suddenly, realizing she had no idea what had become of her former dorm mate, in this reality.

"Yea, babe?" he asked, starting to get dressed.

"Do you ever hear from Lavender?" she asked.

Ron stopped, and looked at her oddly. "Brown?"

"Yeah, or at least, she was still a Brown last I heard anything of her."

"She is still a Brown. We grab coffee now and then," Ron admitted. "We are just friends, 'Mione...in case you think..."

"Of course I don't think that," Hermione assured him. "I just...well, she crossed my mind recently and I wondered. Is she doing well?"

"Well enough," Ron sighed. "Hard to find a job, let alone a husband in her condition."

"Condition?"

"She was bit by a werewolf during the battle of Hogwarts, hun," Ron said. "I thought you knew that. Anyhow, last we talked she was moping about men who are werewolves are more accepted than women who are, and it's damn near impossible for her to get a date. I don't know why blokes are so blind...I mean, were I a single man... Blimey, 'Mione, I didn't mean that."

Hermione nodded. "You did mean it, and that's okay. I know you're attracted to her. You guys dated back at Hogwarts. I can't say I'm entirely thrilled to know you've been meeting her for coffee without me knowing about it, but I trust you, Ron."

Her husband smiled. "Good. You get some more rest. I'll go tell Rose and Hugo to keep their afternoons clear."

"Thanks Ron," Hermione said softly ,sinking back into her pillow miserably. Maybe Ron had been faithful to her...but she had not been faithful to him, and that was a reality that she now had to face.

Minerva felt damned. Why had she let herself go? Why had she let herself fall in love with someone so far out of her reach it was laughable? It was summer break, so there really wasn't even much work to distract herself with, as much as she wished there were.

She had been planning to head up to the manor this week, and connect with the gentleman who handled her family's businesses, but she couldn't bring herself to leave her office, let alone the castle. The sofa still smelled like her...like Hermione. The book which the younger woman had left laying on the coffee table before they had kissed goodbye remained untouched. Minerva simply couldn't bare to be away from the lingering presence of the woman she'd fallen in love with in the space of only a few days.

She found herself wondering if the Hermione of this reality would seek her out, after all of this. Had the younger woman she'd known all these years met the wife of Hermione McGonagall? What questions had she asked, knowing how differently their interactions were in that other place?

"Minerva, what's on your mind?" the portrait of Albus Dumbledore inquired. "That pretty wife of yours?"

"She's not my wife," Minerva muttered, sorrowfully. "At least not in this reality."

"But you wish she were?" he asked.

"Even if, and this is a big if, Hermione Weasley has returned from her adventures in the alternate reality and has suddenly come to love me, she is still married to Ronald. She still has a life built which is not easily walked away from. She still has two children who would not take kindly to their mother starting over her life with their former professor." Minerva said. "And those are only the problems one considers when evaluating who she is in the present. There's also accounting for our respective pasts to consider. I was Hermione's teacher. She was my student. That is not a bond easily broken. The alternate Minerva never taught, and she and my own counterpart met as adults. I fear that there is no way to get where I want to go with her."

"With love, my dear," Albus said with a soft smile. "There is always a way."

"I wondered if you'd come," Minerva said softly as Hermione stepped into her office.

"Headmistress," Hermione gulped. "Good afternoon."

"And to you, Mrs. Weasley," Minerva nodded, gesturing towards a comfortable looking sofa. "I take it this means that you met my counterpart."

"And it would seem that you met mine," the younger witch stated, taking a seat.

"She stayed here whilst we were coordinating with the Unspeakable Department to send her home, and return you to where you belong with your husband and children."

"Is that really where I belong?" Hermione dared to ask.

Minerva sighed. "What happened over there to make you even ask that?"

Hermione fiddled with the hem of her shirt for a few seconds, debating on how to reply. That she fell in love? That she realized how much more fulfilling her life might have been? That in the space of a few days, she's found cause to question everything she'd thought she was? "I met you. The woman behind the stoic Headmistress mask; a wonderful woman named Minerva." she said. "And you? How did you find it, meeting a version of me who was your wife?"

Minerva chuckled. "I was rather shocked, to say the least. But, that said, I found myself very drawn to the woman who had never been my student, and who had never married her friend, Ronald Weasley."

"And now that you have seen," Hermione paused, searching for the right words. "Now that you've seen what we might have been, what do you feel when you look at me?"

Minerva's eyes widened, suddenly realizing that Hermione's line of questioning was not one of natural curiosity like she'd imagined it to be, but rather her questions were laying the groundwork for the hardest question of all. "Hermione," she whispered. "We can't."

The brunette stood and approached the ebony haired witch slowly, keeping steady eye contact. She knew Minerva was scared. She knew how very wrong it was for her to want the older woman like this, but it simply couldn't be helped. Some form of resolution had been needed, and Hermione was well aware that such resolution may very well completely alter her life as she knew it. "Says who?" she asked, reaching out and placing her hands on the older woman's waist.

"Anybody with good sense!" Minerva snapped, trying to pull away.

Hermione didn't let her. She pulled the older witch flush against her own body, tilting her chin up and placing a soft kiss on her former teacher's neck, just below her jaw. "Tell me you don't feel it," Hermione whispered. "And I'll go. Tell me you aren't aching to make love to me, and I'll never bring this up again."

Minerva moaned softly, dipping her head down and burying her nose in Hermione's hair. The younger woman could feel Minerva beginning to return the embrace, hesitantly, and tightened her own in reassurance.

They stood there for a moment, holding each other tightly, before Minerva gently pulled away, letting out a shaking breath. "I can't tell you I don't feel it, Hermione," she said, touching the younger woman's cheek. "And I can't deny that I greatly desire to take you to bed. But, the fact remains that you are a married woman, and I am equally unable to enter into an affair. My counterpart in the other reality was never a teacher, and risked very little when entering into a relationship with a drastically younger woman. I, however, am a teacher. It is my life. While times may have changed enough that people might be accepting to a relationship between us, such a relationship beginning as an adulterous affair would lose any ground that time has gained."

Hermione nodded, understanding where Minerva was coming from, and knowing that there was more she needed to do before things went any further with the woman she had fallen in love with. She needed to divorce Ron. She needed to get Rose and Hugo's needed Harry and Ginny's support, and she needed to reenter the workforce. "I'll be back," she said, pressing a firm kiss on the older woman's cheek. "Wait for me."

With that, she turned and left. Hermione had closed the door behind her and made it halfway down the staircase before Minerva realized what she'd just said. Or rather, what she'd meant.

"I love you too," Minerva whispered to wind, hoping the breeze coming through the open window would carry it to Hermione's ears.

Minerva fingered her glass of firewhiskey nervously, waiting for Harry Potter to arrive. Over the last twenty something years, the-boy-who-lived had become the-man-she-gladly-called-friend. They were meeting at the Three Broomsticks today because she felt she owed it to him to warn him about the proverbial bomb that Hermione was going to be making. Minerva didn't doubt for a second that the brains of the Golden Trio would be seeking divorce; she'd made her intentions quite plain the evening prior.

"Hey, Minerva," Harry said, breathless as he slid into the booth across her. "Sorry I'm late. Hermione was acting like she wanted to tell me something, but whatever it was, she never did get the nerve to out and say it. Honestly, I'm a bit worried."

And that, right there, was a cue if there ever was one, Minerva thought to herself. "Actually Harry, it's Hermione that I wanted to talk to to you about."

"You called her Hermione," Harry said with a frown. "Now I know something is wrong. You still, after all these years, keep with Mrs. Weasley, or before that, Miss Granger."

"Yes, well," Minerva said softly, looking Harry in the eye. "That was before I fell in love with her."

You could have heard a pin drop. Silence persisted as Harry stared at her, jaw slack and wide eyed. "Bloody fucking hell," he finally breathed out. "How did that happen?"

Minerva proceeded to lay out the bare details of what had occurred in the last week. The switched Hermiones, the very different lives each of them led, and the feelings that she had developed as a result. "I can't breath when she touches me, Harry," she muttered. "But when she does, I feel I might die if she lets me go. It's unbearable."

"So...she feels the same for you?" Harry asked tentatively.

"I think so," Minerva nodded. "As of a conversation we had last night, she intends to seek a divorce from Mr. Weasley."

"Oh boy," Harry groaned. "This is...huge. Massive. Have you two...er…?"

"I kissed the other Hermione the evening she left," Minerva admitted with a blush, "but nothing has happened between our Hermione and I."

"Damn," the dark haired wizard said. "I don't know what to say, Minerva. I'm torn between happy that you've finally found someone to capture your heart, and sad to think by two best friends will be ending their marriage."

"I would have expected you to feel nothing else," Minerva replied, "but I wanted you to hear it from me, so you would be prepared. I can't begin to predict how...Ronald will react."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Well, knowing Ron, it will be either very bad, or surprisingly well. He's said to be before that he doesn't feel like he's enough for her...maybe he saw this coming long before any of us did."

"Really? He imagined him wife would leave him for his former Professor?" Minerva asked, laughing a little.

"Well probably not that," her friend chuckled. "But her finding someone else."

"I hope he takes it well," Minerva sighed. "For Hermione's sake, and for Rose and Hugo."

"Me too," Harry agreed.

It had been two days since she'd seen Minerva. Yesterday, Hermione had attempted, and failed miserably, to work of the nerve to warn Harry. Today he was busy working, and she knew she couldn't put off talking to Ron any longer. "Ron," she said, walking into the living room where he was plopped on the couch watching the tele. "We need to talk."

Ron looked up, and concern quickly etched into his face. "What's wrong?" he asked, switching of the program he'd been watching.

"I want a divorce," she said quietly.

His eyes grew wide in shock. "What? Why?"

"I...I lied to you when I told you I'd been on assignment from the Ministry," she said slowly.

"Alright," he said. "So where where you, really?"

"In a rather strange twist of fate, myself and a version of myself from an alternate reality switched places for a week," she began to explain. "She spent her visit here with the Headmistress at Hogwarts, while I stayed with her family."

"So, what? An alternate me, Rose, and Hugo?" Ron asked, scratching his head, trying to puzzle out how any of this would lead to her wanting a divorce."

"In that reality, you and I never married," Hermione continued. "Rather, you were married to Lavender Brown…"

"Ah, so that's why you were asking about her." Ron suddenly realized.

"...and I was married to Minerva McGonagall," she finished, ignoring his remark.

"WHAT?" he exclaimed. "That barking mad!"

"I thought so too, at first," Hermione agreed.

"At first?" Ron asked, frowning. "Are you saying that you went to an alternate reality and found out that you were married to your old teacher, and now you've come back and decided that means we shouldn't be married any more?"

"I fell in love with her, Ron," she whispered. "I kissed her. I had sex with her. If the choice had been mine, I would have stayed with her."

Ron just stared at her for a moment, trying to wrap his head around everything. "But you came back," he protested after a while. "So you can't have her, right?"

"Her, specifically, no," Hermione admitted. "And I'm sure that she was quite glad to have her Hermione, the one with whom she has built a life, back in her arms. However, the Minerva McGonagall of this reality is not attached to anyone, and while the alternate version of me was with her, she too fell in love."

Red hair flopped around as her husband shook his head, almost as if he was trying to wake up from some disturbing dream. "So...she fell in love with alternate you, and you fell in love with alternate her, so now you want to leave me so that you guys can see about being together - to see if the love extends to this reality?"

"That's it, in essence," Hermione admitted. "I realize how cruel this may seem, but I swear to you Ron, I would not be asking this of you if I didn't think it was in all of our best interests. Having met the version of you who married Lavender, I admit that I was a bit jealous of how good you two were together…"

"So you're thinking if we split, I should pursue her, here?" Ron asked, curious.

"If you wanted...obviously I'm not going to have any say in how you live your life from now on," Hermione shrugged. "Except regarding Rose and Hugo, of course."

"Did me and Lavender have kids?" Ron asked.

"Yes. Rather than us having Rose and Hugo, the two of you had Rose and Luka," Hermione said with a soft smile. "If you want to go over to George's, I'm sure he'd let us use his Pensive, and I could show you my memory of them."

Ron laughed. "I think I'll just leave that one be. What's the fun of being a single guy again if you take away all the mystery?"

"As you wish," she smiled.

Minerva's quiet breakfast in the Great Hall with the rest of the Hogwarts staff who were still here for the summer holiday was interrupted by Poppy's screech of displeasure the minute she opened the Daily Prophet.

"What is it?" Minerva asked worriedly, mind immediately drifting to the days proceeding Voldemort's rise, when horrid murders covered the front page of the news on a weekly basis.

"Ron and Hermione Weasley are getting a divorce!" Polly exclaimed.

Minerva couldn't help it. She smiled. "Is that so?" she inquired politely.

"Minerva," Poppy said with a disapproving frown. "What do you know about this?"

"You already knew it was coming, didn't you?" Filius said, joining the conversation.

"Perhaps," the Headmistress said quietly.

Some hours later, she was not in the least surprised when her Deputy made his way up to her office. "I can only think of one logical reason why you would be aware of the marital affairs of the Weasleys," he said by way of greeting, "and I'm feeling a need to brace myself for what you're about to tell me."

"Through a series of very odd events, Hermione and myself have fallen in love," she said, very matter-of-fact. She never felt the need to beat around the bush with her intelligent and long time friend.

"So she requested a divorce so you can be together," Filius concluded, "and had already indicated her intention to do so."

"More or less."

"So how long have you…" the blushing half-goblin asked.

"It's not like that all," Minerva said hurriedly, understanding now that he presumed there was a long standing love affair between she and Hermione. "In short, we each recently met alternate reality versions of ourselves, who had been happily married for many years. That event was a catalyst to addressing the potential of a relationship between us, and we each believe that is worth exploring. Nothing as happened between us at all."

"That's a massive leap of faith on each of your parts," Filius said after a moment. "Particularly for her."

"That goes to show how strongly we each feel," Minerva replied. "On that note, should Hermione and I decide to pursue a relationship, and that relationship causes, shall we call them waves, which are non conducive to my role as Headmistress, I should like to be prepared to retire, versus being asked to step down. The Headship, of course, would fall to you in that case. I would like you to get the paperwork prepared for that transition, so that if the need arises, it's only a matter of signing a few things."

"Very well," Filius said quietly. "Though it is not what I want."

"I know, my friend," Minerva said. "But for once in my life, I need to be selfish and follow my heart."

Hermione looked carefully at her children's faces. Rose, always the child more like Ron, sat there looking glum and suspicious. Hugo, on the other side, was more like her, and simply looked curious as to what her explanation for the divorce was going to be.

"Through a series of events I cannot explain to you at this time, I became aware that in an alternate reality, I was married to someone other than your father. That caused me to seek out the person whom was my spouse in said alternate reality, here, and they have romantic feelings towards me, and I towards them."

"So you're leaving dad for someone else?" Rose asked, slowly.

"To have the freedom to explore that possibility," Hermione clarified. "Your father does not deserve to be cheated on, and I cannot promise him, or you, that the draw between myself and this other person would be something I could fight. It's...too strong."

"Who's this other person?" Hugo inquired. "Who is so bloody special that you can't keep our hands off her?"

"HER?" Rose exclaimed. "WHAT?"

Hugo shrugged. "If it were another man mum wouldn't have used neutral pronouns."

"Well spotted, Hugo," Hermione mumbled. So much for easing her way into this…

"Okay, so who is she?" Rose asked, obviously bitter bite in her tone.

"Minerva McGonagall," Hermione stated, trying not to sound irritated.

It was Hugo's turn to look surprised. Even she she and Ron had first told the kids they would be getting a divorce, Hugo had not seemed all that shocked. Upset, sure, but not shocked like his sister had been. "As-as in…" he stuttered. "Th-the Headmistress?"

"The very same," Hermione whispered. "I understand if this is difficult for you two to accept, I am asking that you try. She really is a wonderful woman, whom I care for greatly."

"Sure, mum," Hugo said, shaking his head. "We'll make an effort. Right, Rose?"

"Yea, sure," Rose said, eyes rolling. "Just no snogging your girlfriend around students. I'd rather not be the laughing stock of Hogwarts next term, if you don't mind."

"That's a more than fair request," Hermione agreed, smiling softly.

"Hello," Minerva said in surprise as Hermione, once again Granger, walked into her office.

"I'm a single woman again," Hermione said with a wry grin. "Thought you'd like to know."

"I was already aware," the older witch admitted. "Page two of the Prophet yesterday, much to Poppy's dismay."

"I hadn't known she thought so highly of Ron and I as a couple," the brunette mused, taking a few strides toward Minerva.

"I think it was less about her opinion of you as a couple, and more about her opinion regarding how marriage should be for life," Minerva replied, reaching out and taking the younger woman's outstretched hand.

"So you know I'd gone forward with the divorce, and you didn't Owl?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

"There's more to ending a marriage and starting one's life over than the paperwork, my dear," Minerva explained. "Especially when there are children and extended family to consider. I felt that you needed some space."

"Fair enough," Hermione sighed. "It's been a trying week. I still need to tell my mother. Gods, she is going to kill me."

"According to your alternate self, I had a very good relationship with your mother, there," Minerva said thoughtfully. "Would you like me to go with you?"

"I'll think about it," Hermione nodded. "There certainly could be pros to you being there, but there are also cons to consider."

"Alright," Minerva said, stroking the younger witch's cheek lovingly. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do to help. When all of that is done, we'll talk about the rest."

"Us, you mean?"

"Yes. What that means, and such."

"What do you want it to mean, Minerva?"

The older woman looked down at expectant brown eyes staring up at her. "This," she whispered, leaning in to capture Hermione's lips.

Hermione accepted the kiss, a gentle and loving gesture, and returned it in equal measure. It wasn't passion filled, but rather the embodiment of intimacy; nothing more, and nothing less.

"Humm," the younger woman sighed as the kiss broke a minute later. "That was lovely."

"A taste of the future," Minerva murmured, holding the smaller body in a tight embrace.

Hermione Granger laughed merrily. She was having tea with her mother, recounting some stories from their respective youth, trying to guess what might have been had they each made different choices. The forty year old witch had just gotten through her divorce from Ron Weasley, and was excited to start her new job as an Unspeakable at the Ministry this coming Monday. That said, she had a few more days before she started, and still needed to finish moving her things to her new flat.

"So, Hermione," Jean Granger said to her daughter. "Tell me about Minerva."

The younger woman stared at her mother in shock. She had gotten through telling her mum about divorcing Ron, and that had been all. She had yet to mention an interest in anyone, let alone that someone being a woman, let alone that woman being the very same one Jean had met forty years prior when she came to deliver Hermione's Hogwarts letter. "How…?" was all she managed to stutter.

"I know everything," Jean said with a soft smile. "about the trip to the alternate reality, I mean. The other you came by the house to talk to me while she was here, and told me all about her marriage to Minerva, who in her reality, had been a friend of mine and your father's. If there was one thing I loved most about your dad, it was his impeccable judgment of character. If he liked her, in any reality, I expect she is wonderful."

"She is," Hermione sighed, smiling. "Absolutely wonderful. She actually offered to come with me today...I could call and have her join us if you like."

"By 'call', I assume you mean that trick you do with the talking animal made of smoke," Jean sighed.

"Yes, mum," the brown eyed woman laughed, mirth filling her eyes. "A patronus, as I've told you a dozen times."

"Well, send your patronus to Minerva and I'll go get more tea and ginger biscuits," Jean said, standing. "If what the other Hermione said is anything to go on, I'll be getting a new grandchild before too long, so I figure I ought to get to know this woman, pronto."

"Mum!" Hermione exclaimed. "We've hardly had a chance to talk about what we each want out of a relationship. We've only kissed at this point! And I'm bit old to be starting a whole new family, anyhow."

"Pish, posh," Jean said, walking away.

Hermione sent a patronus to Minerva, and a moment later, the older witch indicated she would be there shortly. By the time Jean had reset the tea try, the Hogwart's Headmistress had arrived and come inside. Hermione was pleased that her older paramour had thought to take a moment to change into muggle clothing.

"Well, Minerva," Jean said when they had all taken seats. "Tell me about yourself. I have a feeling we're going to be good friends."

Making love to Hermione for the first time was more than just a meeting of two bodies. Much more. Minerva could feel her heart breaking every time Hermione pulled away from a kiss, even if it was only for a moment to breath. The need that consumed her now was almost enough to make her cry. "Please," she whispered as the younger witch's body melted on top of hers.

How the hell had she made it this far in life without feeling this. Why people called an orgasm completion now made total sense. Here, now, with Hermione in her arms, Minerva McGonagall felt complete for the first time in her life.

"Min…" Hermione breathed as the older woman rolled, and then deftly inserted two fingers into her core. "Oh, god, Min…"

Drawing on years as a Transfiguration Mistress, Minerva used a combination of spells to elongate and enlarge the girth of her clitoris. Erect and glistening, Minerva removed her hand and repositioned her body, and then thrust her hips forward slowly. Her length slid easily into her lover's body, overwhelming Minerva with sensation. "Sweet Merlin," she uttered with a shaky breath. "You feel so good."

Hermione met her following thrusts with eagerness, pace quickening as each began nearing orgasm. "Ohhh…" the younger witch moaned. "My love…"

Minerva could feel Hermione tightening around her, and a few seconds later, the two found release in the ultimate union of souls. Both spent, the older woman fell limply to the side, and after taking a moment to cast a non verbal counterspell, she scooted tightly against Hermione's smaller form.

"I love you," she whispered into Hermione's ear. "Gods above Hermione, I love you so much."

"And I love you," the younger woman replied, leaning into Minerva's tight embrace.

As the two began to drift off to sleep, Minerva's hand rested lightly on Hermione's stomach. Instinct took over, as she unknowingly reached protectively over the tiny life beginning to form. In another reality, a different Minerva was remembering the first time she had cast the spell to change her anatomy, on she and her Hermione's wedding night, unknowing that it would mean the conception of their son, Sevryn.

Granted, making love was designed to create new life; the living symbol of the purest form of affection.

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