AN: AU, MM/HG Femslash. Don't like don't read. Thank you JKR for creating such brilliant characters and thank you for letting us take them to new places. Just a 'lil 'ole somethin somethin that woke me out of a dead slumber not too long ago...

EMBERS

Somehow, someway Hogwarts managed to graduate Harry Potter's class. It wasn't in the great hall, because there really wasn't much left of it. It wasn't in the Room of Requirement, because for some reason, the castle refused to open it. Graduation took place on the Quiddich Pitch. It was sunny and bright and weary families gathered for what they thought was Hogwarts last hurrah...

Not so.

At least not according to Minerva McGonagall; who was bound and determined to get the school up and running again. She was intent on using the summer to create as many usable classrooms as possible. The dormitory towers were pretty much intact except for Gryfindor which took a great many pot shots from Death Eaters with grudges.

No matter, she would have the tower better than before. She just needed help. As she'd passed out the diplomas to the various graduates, she couldn't help but wonder where their future paths would take them. One student in particular was especially of interest...

Hermione Granger.

Oh how that young witch had matured! Going from the bushy haired know it all into the gorgeous, witty, brilliant witch she'd become. It took McGonagall's breath away when she thought about Hermione. Of course everything about Hermione Granger took the older witch's breath away. Albus Dumbledore had been so fond of reminding her of this fact. It seemed to Minerva that he'd taken to forcing that issue in their last few conversations together. Almost like he was trying to get Minerva to see something that she was stubbornly refusing to see. Well, she supposed it really didn't matter now. Hermione was gone and Minerva would probably never see her again.

Most of the students had left the previous day. Only two remained.

Harry Potter, who refused to return to the Dursleys and Hermione Granger, who's parents had been killed in a Death Eater attack nearly a year ago. Both former students refused to leave. They wanted to rebuild. As of yet, no one knew they'd stayed behind.

Harry woke from his place on the dusty sofa in what was left of Gryfindor's common room. The fireplace crackled feebly with the last embers of the fire he'd lit the previous night. Rubbing his arms to get some circulation, he reached for his glasses. The first thing he noticed was the morning sun shining happily through a hole where the boy's tower used to be. That had been blasted away. The girl's side remained pretty much intact. Hermione offered to share space with him, since she was the only one using that side.

The castle, however, still refused to allow him up. Some spells transcended even this destruction.

Hearing movement on the stairs, Harry focused his green eyes in that direction just as Hermione appeared yawning and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Scratching her nose, she glanced up to see him staring. She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Her possessions had escaped unscathed so she had whatever she needed. The same could not be said for Harry. "There's no running water." The young witch stated, sitting next to him. Somehow, the Death Eaters had managed to cut off the water supply.

"Let's check the prefect's bath on the fifth floor, that room always seems to manage to stay together." Harry suggested, rising from the sofa.

Hermione followed him saying, "Let me go grab my bathing things." She stopped at the stairs and added with a smirk, "I'll try to find a robe and towels for you."

Harry nodded gratefully. He looked down at his tattered t-shirt and jeans. "I guess I'll need to find some clothes too."

Several minutes later, Hermione returned with a red robe that had been left behind by Ginny Weasley. Hermione didn't think Ginny would mind Harry using it. She'd also found some towels, she wasn't sure who they belonged to. Handing Harry a bundle, she said, "Let's go."

The couple didn't see a single soul on their way to the fifth floor. Not even the paintings stirred. Nothing. It was eerie. Reaching their destination, they heard the sound of water running. "Well at least something's working." Harry stated.

At that moment, Harry's elf, Kreacher, appeared. "Master Harry..." He croaked. Harry was surprised that the elf had survived. When the house elves joined in the fight in the great hall, Harry had been occupied battling Voldemort.

He smiled down at the tiny figure. "Where have you been?"

Kreacher scratched his wrinkled head, "Been helpin' the Howarts elf folk repair the kitchen and such."

Hermione's eyebrows rose, "They stayed?" She exclaimed in wonder.

The elf nodded, "They is bound to this place. They still serve the Headmistress." He pointed a clawed finger to the wash room door. "In there she is. Exhausted that one."

Harry looked at Hermione, "I'll wash later, I'm going to have Kreacher show me what's been done so far. Then we can decide what to do next." Hermione nodded as her friend headed off with the ancient elf.

Hermione carefully pushed the door to the wash room open, hoping it wouldn't squeak too much. If Professor McGonagall was inside, she didn't want to disturb her. Quietly, she entered and peeked around the corner.

Sitting in the huge bathing pool was, in fact, Minerva McGonagall... fast asleep and slowly sliding under the bubbles of her bathwater.

Gasping, Hermione dropped her bundle and dove into the deep pool, surfacing beside her professor. She grabbed McGonagall around her waist and shoulders just as her head slipped beneath the water. That was plenty enough to wake the sleeping witch, who rose sputtering and coughing. Hermione proceeded to pat her back to help open her airway. "Are you alright?" She whispered, still with one arm around her professor.

Minerva McGonagall was aware of two things: one, someone just saved her from drowning and two, she was standing there with that person. Opening her emerald eyes, she saw it was Hermione Granger. "What are you doing here?" She asked in wide eyed surprise.

Hermione smiled, her chocolate eyes twinkled. "Saving you." The younger witch noticed that her former professor was completely undressed. She tried not to look at McGonagall's body, but failed miserably when she spotted deep bruising on the older witch's arm and chest. "You're hurt!" She exclaimed pulling away to inspect for further damage.

"Miss Granger!" McGonagall sputtered realizing the state of her undress. Blushing and embarrassed, she slid back down into the bubbles with a mighty splash.

Hermione stood looking down at her flustered former teacher. "I came in for a bath since we have no water in the tower. There you were asleep and about to go under. I couldn't let you drown could I?" By this time Hermione's hands rested on her shapely hips. She was still wearing her shorts and thin t-shirt. Although now totally soaked, and the t-shirt completely see through.

McGonagall tried to avert her eyes, but couldn't. Plastered to Hermione's surprisingly generous chest, the t-shirt displayed her coral tipped nipples in exquisite detail as they hardened in the chill.

McGonagall felt herself tingle slightly as she gazed at Hermione's breasts. "No, this will NOT happen!" She told herself tearing her eyes away from the beautiful woman before her. She was reminded of previous conversations with Albus and wondered if the old nutter had anything to do with her present situation.

The damage was done though. Hermione had seen where her mentor had been staring and she'd seen McGonagall's reaction. Smirking, she chose to file that away... for now. "You're hurt." She said, once again looking at the bruises on the professor's body.

McGonagall looked at herself. Hermione was right, she was injured. Ugly bruises on her chest and arms. A stinging laceration cutting her left breast down into her nipple. A gash on her cheek.

Hermione frowned, concern lining her lovely face, "There's an emergency first aid kit by the door. I'll fetch it." She saw her mentor moving to get out of the water. Holding out her hand, she ordered, "Stay where you are."

With eyebrows raised, McGonagall obeyed; watching as Hermione climbed out of the water and went to fetch the kit. Her shorts stuck to her skin, highlighting a beautifully rounded backside. Again Minerva felt the tingles, "Oh Merlin..." She whispered. She could hear Albus laughing and taunting her by saying, "You know you want her." She'd acknowledged to Albus last year that she felt an attraction to the brilliant young witch, but she knew nothing would ever come of it. Painfully, she'd tried to bury those feelings deep within her heart. Apparently not deep enough, because here they were to remind her just how human she really was after all.

Hermione could feel McGonagall's stunning emerald eyes on her as she grabbed the kit. Smiling to herself, she decided she liked being stared at by the older witch. At least now, she knew that Minerva was interested. Pausing next to the pool, she shot her mentor a sensual smile and slid in.

Slowly.

Letting the professor's eyes feast on her curves that were clearly outlined by her sodden garments. Her silky, sensuous, curves.

McGonagall gasped. What an incredible body! Oh Merlin, where had she been hiding that? When had that happened? Her heart rate sped up as blood rushed to her face with such force that the gash started bleeding again. The next thing she knew, Hermione's soft hand was firmly gripping her chin turning her head to better inspect the nasty cut.

Chocolate brown eyes radiated concern as she opened the kit which she'd left resting at the edge of the pool. Grabbing a tube of healing cream, she muttered, "This is going to sting a bit."

McGonagall nodded, unable to utter a word, unable to tear her eyes away from the generous breasts lightly pressing against her. She again noticed the hardened nipples and winced suddenly as her own responded. The injured one throbbing as it pebbled.

Hermione noticed, but chose to say nothing. She knew the older witch was truly embarrassed by her body's reaction to the younger witch.

Hermione acknowledged her own attraction to her mentor. She loved her... Deeply. Deeply enough to want to spare her any more embarrassment. She'd gotten the reaction she'd wanted and the answers to questions that made her heart soar. Minerva McGonagall was attracted to her! More than that. After gazing into her mentor's expressive, deep green eyes, Hermione knew one more important fact...

Her mentor loved her.

Gently, with the touch of an angel, Hermione carefully spread the healing cream on McGonagall's cheek. She watched as it absorbed into the wound and began to slowly close it. "You'll probably have a scar until it heals completely." Hermione stated clinically.

McGonagall smiled, "You sound like Poppy."

Hermione grinned and added, "If anyone asks, tell them you got it in a pub brawl in London."

Minerva sniggered and smirked. Once again, her eyes focusing on Hermione's chest, she spoke, her voice was husky, lightly laced with the arousal she felt. "You still have not answered my question."

Hermione finished rubbing the cream in and gazed into the beautiful, but oh so weary features of her mentor. Sighing, she answered sadly, "I have no where to go."

McGonagall was cruelly reminded of the deaths of the young woman's parents nine months earlier. "I am truly sorry. I was not thinking." She whispered mournfully, reaching out to gently touch Hermione's hand.

Hermione responded with a wan smile, "I'm dealing with it... Harry and I decided to stay and help rebuild the castle." Minerva glanced at the door, "Potter's here?"

Hermione laughed softly, "Not here..." She waved her hand around and continued, "He went to the kitchens with Kreacher to organize the elves."

McGonagall nodded, "Oh."

The young witch turned her attention back to tending her mentor's injuries. "You're cut... just here." Gently Hermione placed her hand under Minerva McGonagall's rounded left breast and raised it above the water line.

"Hermione..." The older witch began only to be cut off by a softly whispered, "Hush... it'll be alright."

The young witch squeezed the tube of cream against her mentor's full, perfectly shaped breast. "Again, this will sting a bit." She muttered, placing the tube back in the kit. With one hand gently holding the breast up, Hermione used the thumb on her other hand to delicately work the cream into the cut. She ignored the shudders her mentor was trying to supress. "How did you manage this?" She asked, trying to get McGonagall's thoughts away from the erotic tableau that was playing out between them.

McGonagall swallowed convulsively. "When Voldemort blasted Kingsley, Slughorn and myself, I landed on Sir Nickolas' suit of armor." Referring to nearly headless Nick. Dumbledore had been rather fond of the eccentric ghost and had moved his armor to the great hall as a tribute.

Hermione nodded, then used her thumb to gently work the cream into her professor's rose colored nipple. It hardened even more on contact and McGonagall let out a moan. Mortified, the older witch gazed into the soft brown eyes of her former pupil. What she saw was understanding, acceptance and respect. Oh yes, there was something more, something deeper.

She saw love.

"Shhh." Hermione soothed as she continued to work the healing cream into her mentor's sensitive flesh.

Minerva McGonagall closed her eyes and rested her head on Hermione's shoulder. "I am so tired of this fight." She whimpered softly not sure if she was speaking of the battle against Voldemort's evil or her personal battle against the feelings she'd developed for the remarkable young woman currently tending to her injuries.

Hermione gently laid the healed breast back against the older witch's chest and whispered, "I won't leave you." She gently stroked the older witch's weary brow.

Lower lip trembling, tears slowly fell from beneath the closed lids of McGonagall's emerald eyes. She hadn't allowed a single one to fall as of yet. But now? She couldn't hold back anymore. Not in front of Hermione. The young witch gave Minerva a sense of comfort and safety that she hadn't felt in a long, long time. She gave Minerva the sense that it was okay to lower the defenses. If only for a little while.

Hermione pulled Minerva into her arms, "I'm here." She felt hot tears slowly making their way down her own face as McGonagall broke down into heaving sobs.

Hermione held her mentor for some time, just letting the older woman vent her bottled up emotions. She felt a keen sense of contentment in that Minerva chose to allow herself to break down like this in front of her. Finally the sobs slowed down to a few sniffles.

The dark haired witch opened her eyes to find warm, chocolate orbs gazing at her tenderly. "Oh Hermione..." She began.

She felt gentle fingers on her lips as the young witch whispered, "Hush. It's okay."

Minerva shook her head, "I... we need to..."

Hermione nodded, "I know. We need to talk about this..." She indicated their present situation.

Minerva nodded, "I know I should be appalled at this, but somehow I am not." She whispered.

Hermione leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the newly formed scar on Minerva's cheek, then she pulled away and reached for the soap on a nearby shelf. Spying her mentor's wash cloth resting on the edge of the pool, she snatched it up and started to work up a lather.

Minerva watched as her young former student then proceeded to bathe her. Tenderly running the cloth over her shoulders and arms. Washing each finger with care. Gently running the cloth over her chest, down to her breasts. Touching them so reverently. The young witch slowly took the cloth over Minerva's tight stomach muscles and down her sides. She paused, her hand on her mentor's hip... waiting.

Gazing directly into Hermione's earnest brown eyes, Minerva understood what the young witch was waiting for. Nodding slightly, spread her legs with a deep sigh.

Sighing at the privilege just granted her, Hermione gently ran the cloth over Minerva's dark curls and below. McGonagall closed her eyes. It felt liberating to be this open and free with the young witch.

Hermione didn't linger even though she wanted to. This was not the place nor the time for such things. There would come a time for passion, just not today. Both of them were too raw, their emotions too quick to give in to impulse.

"Come to my rooms tonight, have dinner with me?" Minerva asked quietly.

Hermione smiled, "Your rooms made it through this mess?"

The older witch snorted, "For the most part. I now have a place for a huge picture window where there used to be a wall."

Hermione chuckled as Minerva's comment slightly diffused the sexual tension brewing between them. She continued with her ministrations though, stopping when she came to Minerva's left knee. It was torn and bruised. "Merlin, how'd this happen?" She raised McGonagall's leg to the surface causing her mentor to loose her balance.

"Hermione!" McGonagall gasped loudly, then slipped under the water with a great splash!

Hermione giggled as McGonagall came up sputtering, "Blast it woman!" The older witch grumbled as she wandlessly sent a wave of water in the younger witch's face.

Laughing, Hermione splashed back.

Minerva returned the splash with another more forceful one, which Hermione returned. Back and forth they went till Minerva finally lunged at the younger witch and promptly dunked her under.

Hermione rose to the surface like a water goddess. Sparkling droplets adorning her body like diamonds.

The older witch gasped at the beauty standing before her, "Have dinner with me?" She again asked.

Hermione gazed into honest, emerald eyes and saw a truth written there. A truth written for her and her alone. Minerva McGonagall loved her. "Yes... I'll be there."

-to be continued