I usually write back and forth between characters' perspectives, and while when I write HG/MM, I've done a couple short fics which are entirely from Hermione's point of view, I've never done one from only Minerva's. So, that is what this is. And before you even start reading, this is a oneshot. Period. No continuation planned. I feel like I concluded this one very nicely, and am not inclined to mess with it.

This fic was inspired by the following quote:

The term is over, the holiday has begun. The dream has ended, this is the morning.

- The Last Battle, CS Lewis

The term was over. Headmaster Severus Snape had died holiday had begun, and for the first time in years, that was something to truly celebrate. The dream had ended. The nightmare of war had finally come to an end. This - this beautiful, wonderful sunrise - was the morning.

Minerva McGonagall had never been more happy, even if she was standing in the midst of burning rubble; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was still ablaze, more than twelve hours after Voldemort had fallen and the last of the Death Eaters were killed, captured, or fled from the scene, only to be hunted down by Aurors in the weeks to come. The Wizarding world was out for vengeance, though Minerva thought she would not be party to the hunt. She had killed and bled enough for this war, already.

The tenured Transfiguration Professor was not surprised to hear that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had both signed up to take part in the search and capture of the remaining dark forces. She was also not surprised when she heard that Hermione Granger, the third of the Golden Trio, would not be joining them. She had chosen to remain at Hogwarts. It had been Hermione, not Minerva, who had thought to go around searching for volunteers to help with the castle's cleanup and repair. The younger witch hadn't even bothered consulting her mentor about it before organizing the Hogwarts crews.

"Why didn't you come to me before going ahead with your recruiting?" Minerva had asked the younger witch.

"I realize everyone assumes you will be Headmistress now," Hermione had said in a firm, yet warm tone. "But the fact is that technically, Professor, you are not; no one is, and so I figured that I would simply do what needed to be done."

Minerva thought she ought to have been mad at Hermione Granger over such...such...whatever it had been, but she hadn't. She'd been proud to see her star pupil taking the lead. Hermione had been right, after all; it needed to be done.

That had been the moment Minerva first saw Hermione as a woman, rather than a child. A few hours later, Minerva realized that Hermione was an attractive woman. She'd been walking about and seen the younger witch bending down to pick up a dropped wand. She knew she ought to be feeling sorry for the wand's owner, who was probably among the dead now, but all she could wrap her brain around in that moment was how lovely an arse Hermione Granger happened to have.

Of course, now was the part of her story in which she was internally debating with the ups and downs of expressing her attraction to the younger woman. Disregarding the obvious problem - the age gap between them - there were a whole host of questions that needed answering before Minerva would even consider - oh, what did kids these day call it? - making a move.

Hermione was so young. Decades her junior, in fact. It certainly wasn't unheard of; May-December couples, but it wasn't commonplace either. The chances of an intelligent woman such as Miss Granger being open to a relationship with someone older was slim to none. That notion, of course, only warranted consideration if Minerva discovered that Hermione was open to a relationship with someone of the same gender.

For her part, she had never been involved with someone younger, though she was no stranger to relationships with an age gap. Her late husband, Elphinstone, had been her elder by quite a few years. The roles were reversed, here, though she imagined Elph rolling in his grave laughing as he looked down at her, gawking at someone much younger. She was also no stranger to same-sex couplings. After Elph had died, she'd had a romance spanning several years with a member of the Wizengamot; Amelia Bones. In that instance, Amelia had been the one to pursue her.

Again, Minerva knew the roles were reversed. If Hermione was open to being with someone older, and if Hermione was open to the person being a woman, it had doubtfully ever crossed her mind that she might find a romantic entanglement with her now former Professor. Even if, in an astoundingly unlikely scenario, Hermione had likewise realized an attraction to her mentor, she would undoubtedly be far too scared to be the one to make a move. On the other hand, Miss Granger had been sorted to Gryffindor for a reason. Still, not likely to be the case. In reality, that was best. Minerva knew she needed to sort out her own feelings on the matter before anything else happened. She wished she had time to really mull things over, but in a matter of weeks, Hermione would leave Hogwarts, and likely move on.

Minerva knew the younger witch had spurred Ron Weasley's advances, though it begged to question why. Was she simply not interested in him? Was she involved, or at least interested in another? Would Hermione reject advances from her former Professor, just as she'd rejected Mr. Weasley? The green eyed witch had so many questions, and startlingly few answers. That could only leave one path for her, of course: Research.

It had been several days since Minerva had begun her research. By research, she actually meant stalking. Upside, Hermione had not seemed to notice that her mentor had taken to working on the same section of the castle as she was. Up till today, Minerva had simply used the time to try and show her casual side to Hermione, in hopes that she'd open up of her own accord. That did not seem to be happening. Though there was an easy flow to their conversations now, Hermione still steadfastly refused to address Minerva by her name, favoring, as she always had, the title 'Professor'. Likewise stubborn, the older witch refused to give up. The more time she spent around Hermione, the more she decided that she fancied her former pupil.

"Good morning, Hermione," Minerva greeted as she entered the Gryffindor common room, where she had the younger woman had begun repairs the day before.

"Professor," Hermione replied with a nod.

The two worked in easy silence for the next fifteen minutes before Hermione gave Minerva the opening she'd been looking for, in form of mentioning the memory of Harry and Ginny's first kiss; here in the common room, after a Quidditch match.

"Speaking of young love, what of you and Ronald?" Minerva inquired. She knew the answer to that, of course, but it needed to be asked to push the conversation further.

"We are not an item," Hermione said with a sigh. "He wishes we were, but I am not interested in him. Not like that."

"Did you turn him down in favor of another young man?" Minerva asked, trying her best to make the question sound random, rather than deliberate. She internally chuckled; thinking Severus would have been proud of how she was accessing her inner Slytherin.

Hermione chuckled. "Professor, I didn't imagine someone like you would be interested in the gossip of the wizarding world."

Minerva pursed her lips, determined not to appear as flustered as she felt. Of course she wasn't the sort to engage in gossip! "I am merely inquiring out of interest of your well being," she said after a moment.

Chocolate eyes bored into her, making her feel like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "I imagine that it will get out before too long, so I suppose I might as well tell you…"

The older witch braced herself, prepared to hear of some hidden romance between Hermione and some good looking, age appropriate wizard. Perhaps that Viktor Krum bloke…

"I'm a lesbian," Hermione stated, matter-of-fact. "And as such, have no desire to be with Ron or any other man. Not that there's a woman currently in my life, but that's besides the point."

Minerva couldn't help it. She grinned. "I see," she said, tone far more excited than she wished it sounded.

"What are you smiling about?" Hermione inquired, hands on hips and offering a rather fierce glare. "I better not find you've passed that information out, or so help me, I will hex you - Professor or not!"

Green eyes sparkled with mirth. "I would do nothing of the sort," she assured Hermione. "I was smiling because it pleases me to not be the only queer in the castle."

"You're a lesbian?!" Hermione exclaimed, tripping over a pile of broken chairs after jumping back a few inches in her shock.

Minerva offered her hand to help the younger woman up off the floor. "Bisexual," she corrected.

"Oh," Hermione stuttered. "I see, Professor."

"When are you just going to give in and call me Minerva?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "I no longer look at you as a student, so why should you continue to address me as Professor?"

"It's proper," Hermione insisted. "You are my better."

"Gods above, woman!" Minerva exclaimed, surprised at Hermione's reasoning for the continuation of title usage. "It what way am I better than you? If anything, you are better than I am! It was you who organized the clean-up crew for Hogwarts. You who helped Harry defeat Voldemort! You who out-scored everyone in history on your NEWTs!"

"I did?" Hermione asked shyly. "The NEWTs, I mean?"

Minerva smiled. The young woman before her, despite having been on the run and hunting Horcruxes, had continued with the seventh year curriculum and last evening gone over the Ministry to take her exams. All ten of them. Minerva would be surprised if Hermione got more than four hours of sleep last night. The results had been on her desk when she awoke this morning, furthering her growing affection for the brilliant Miss Granger.

"They were on my desk first thing this morning," she said. "The results came back so quickly because the examiners wanted my opinion on if you had cheated. All ten NEWT exams, Hermione? Most people take five or less! And yes, you broke records in the fields of Transfiguration, Potions, Defense, Herbology, and Charms. You were only three points away from breaking the records for Arithmancy, six points from Runes, and the remaining three were well above average scores."

"Wow," Hermione breathed. "I didn't think I'd do half as well."

"Imagine how well you might have done had been here for your seventh year and more able to focus!"

"What was my Transfiguration score?"

Minerva smirked. "Two-hundred and fifty three. Twelve points above my own score. Now, Hermione, don't you dare think anyone to be your better after such an accomplishment. I won't hear it."

"Alright, Profess…"

The older woman glared. "Hermione…"

Brown eyes meekly met her green ones. "Minerva," she whispered in correction.

"See? That wasn't so hard."

Her expression was controlled, but internally Minerva was doing the River Dance. Round one goes to McGonagall.

It took the better part of a week to get Hermione to call her by her first name consistently, but it had happened. The conversation about their mutual attraction to women had opened the door to more personal topics, and the conversation about Hermione's NEWT scores had offered a reasonable excuse for Minerva to regularly engage Hermione in verbal duels; that is… lively debates.

"Hermione?" Minerva asked, idea suddenly coming to her. "Would you care to duel sometime?"

"As in - duel?" Hermione asked, looking at her incredulously. "As in - fight?"

Minerva shrugged. "Till you blew to bits all the NEWT records, I was regarded as the most knowledgeable duelist of the age. I'm curious at how we'd fare against each other."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I think the key to good dueling is the mastery of multiple fields. You are a Transfiguration expert, of course, but also quite adept in Defense and Charms. The combination of fields allows you, or I, to have multiple avenues of exploiting an opponent's weaknesses."

"That was my thought as well."

"So," Hermione said slowly, offering a sly grin. "Us dueling would be pointless, as I'd obviously be the victor."

Minerva offered her younger companion a pout. "And what makes you so certain of that? Wouldn't my experience offer me the upper edge?"

Hermione shook her head. "You're absolute rubbish at Runes, Minerva," she stated. "And there is a runic version of the disarming spell, among a horde of other useful dueling spells, which cannot be countered or blocked by their Latin cousins. I'd have you flat on your arse in a matter of seconds."

Minerva huffed. So much for a chance to be in close contact with a hot and sweaty Hermione…

Round two goes to Granger, she mused.

That night, an exhausted Hermione excused herself directly after the evening meal, determined to go to bed early. A few hours after that, Minerva had been in her office working on the stack of students-to-be for next term, when the Fat Lady had shoved her way into a painting of the Scottish Highlands, looking rather panicked.

"Headmistress! You must come at once. Someone is screaming from the Gryffindor girls' dorms!" the Gryffindor guardian exclaimed. "It sounds as though they are being tortured!"

"Hermione…" Minerva muttered, moving to stand. The brains of the Golden Trio was the only one, that she was aware of, staying in Gryffindor Tower right now. Nightmares were not uncommon in the aftermath of war, and Poppy had told her that Hermione had been under the Cruciatus Curse at some point while on the run; probably in the last few weeks. Harry had mentioned that the three of them, along with Miss Lovegood, Mr. Olivander, and a goblin named Griphook, had been captured and kept at Malfoy Manor shortly before the battle here at Hogwarts. It was very likely that Hermione's torure had taken place there, and probably under the wand of Bellatrix Lastrange; sadistic bitch.

Minerva's feet carried her swiftly down the halls toward Gryffindor Tower, and before long, she too could hear the high pitched screaming emanating from the girls dormitory. Up the staircase she went, into a scene of Hermione thrashing and screaming as she slept.

"Hermione!" she said urgently, gently shaking the younger woman's shoulder. "Wake up!"

A moment later, she found herself being dragged into the bed by surprisingly strong arms. Hermione, still sleeping, held onto her for dear life. The screaming desisted at once, though tears continued to flow as Minerva held tightly to the witch who she suddenly realized meant everything to her. It wasn't a passing fancy, nor something she could take or leave. She needed this woman, and right now, Hermione seemed to need her as well. Minerva felt that if this was as close as her brown eyed beauty allowed her to get, it would be enough. While she couldn't deny the physical attraction, this was certainly not about lust; it was unyielding love.

Minerva couldn't have said when she'd fallen asleep, but she woke up to the feel of a warm body pulling away, and Hermione uttering "Oh, gods."

Her head lulled to the side her her eyes opened slowly to see an uncertain looking Hermione sitting up, legs curled tightly to her chest, and chin resting on her knees. "Good morning," she muttered, stretching.

"What are you doing in my bed?" Hermione asked quietly.

The older witch blinked several times, let out a breath, and pushed herself up against the plush pillows resting on the headboard. "You had a nightmare last night," Minerva explained. "I tried to wake you, at which point you, well, more or less dragged me into bed with you. I tried to pry you off of me once you'd calmed down, but you would have none of that, so I stayed."

"Oh," the younger woman replied, blushing furiously. "I'm sor-"

"There's no reason to be embarrassed, nor one for you to apologize," Minerva cut her off. "You had a horrid nightmare, I'm guessing one relating to your capture and torture at Malfoy Manor. You needed someone to help you make it through; to hold you, and make you feel safe. I was able and more than willing, Hermione."

"I'm…"

It was then Minerva noticed that Hermione was still shaking. She sighed, and offered a hand toward the younger witch. "Come to me, my dear," she said gently. "It's alright."

Slowly, Hermione did move toward her former Professor, making her way into Minerva's embrace cautiously. "Why are you so good to me?" the younger woman sniffled after a moment.

"Because I care for you," Minerva answered softly.

"Why would you do that?" Hermione wanted to know.

"How could I not?" the older witch replied with her own question.

For the moment, that seemed to be enough conversation for the still shaking Gryffindor. A half hour passed in silence before Hermione drifted back off to sleep, obviously not rested after an unsettling night. After a little while longer, Hermione shifted her position, tucking her body tightly against Minerva. Minerva spooned the younger witch, smile gracing her lips as Hermione tucked her arm securely around her own body. She tried desperately not to focus on the fact that her hand was cradling Hermione's breast. There would be time for that later. She could wait. Hogwarts could also wait, for today, anyway. Right now Hermione deserved her complete focus. After a while, Minerva also drifted off.

"Where were you all day?" Rolanda Hooch asked her best friend.

"In bed," Minerva replied easily. It was true. She and Hermione had slept till past lunch, and then risen and had a house elf bring them a meal in the Gryffindor common room. After that, that had retreated back to the dorm room and just curled up on the bed and talked.

"Whose bed?" Rolanda wanted to know. "I checked your quarters and you were not there."

"Hermione's," the elder of the two friends replied without thinking how that sounded; at least until the words were already out of her mouth.

"Granger?" the Quidditch coach asked, looking decidedly dumbfounded. "You? Were in bed… with Hermione Granger? As in the student?"

"Not like that, Ro!" Minerva protested. She wished, but Hooch didn't need to know that part. "She had a nightmare last night. I went to address the issue. She latched herself to me and I decided there was no harm in staying, if my presence was of comfort to her. When we woke this morning, we talked."

"All day?"

"We also played a bit of chess," the green eyed woman shrugged. "Though mostly, we just talked."

"What the bloody hell can you talk about for an entire day?" Rolanda wanted to know.

"The war. Transfiguration. Charms. Defense. Art. Muggle theater," Minerva listed the topics they'd touched on that day. "The history of Scotland. Oh, and Runic spellwork, though that is a topic she is versed in, and I am not, so I mostly just listened at that point. Very few people can make me feel like an idiot child regarding academics, but Hermione can, and regularly. It's refreshing, really."

Rolanda looked impressed. "She's the perfect witch for you, Min. You should marry her."

Minerva blushed furiously, looking at the floor in an attempt to not be caught, but it was too late.

"BLOODY HELL!" Rolanda said, hopping up and down gleefully. "YOU ARE INVOLVED!"

"No, we are not," Minerva hissed, smacking her friend on the shoulder.

"But?" Rolanda whispered eagerly.

"I am… interested," she admitted. "And…"

"And?!"

"I do know she is not interested in men," Minerva confessed, feeling slightly bad about telling Rolanda what she'd promised Hermione she'd not gossip about. Granted, she trusted Rolanda not to spread it further, and the woman was her best friend. That, she decided, meant she was not gossiping. She was sharing.

Rolanda grinned. "So how you gunna woo her?"

After nearly a week of Rolanda's nagging, Minerva had given in and planned an afternoon in which she could subtly express her interest to Hermione. Ro had thought that flying on a broomstick at sunset, to some romantic dinner destination was a good plan, but Minerva knew how Hermione disliked flying, and shot down that idea immediately. Yes, she had agreed to put some effort into romancing the young Miss Granger at Rolanda's badgering, but she would be doing in her way. That said, before doing a lot of extensive planning, she decided she should see if she could talk Hermione into even agreeing to go somewhere outside the castle with her; and that was her mission for today.

"Good morning, Hermione," Minerva greeted, stepping into the school library.

The common rooms were all put back together now, and the other teams had managed most of the hallways. The elves had taken care of the kitchen; though there had been little damage there in the first place, which left the classrooms and a couple other places, including the library. After that, they had to fix the grounds, which had taken a large portion of the overall damage. Minerva knew that they'd be finished with the castle in a matter of the next few days, which meant that by the end of next week, the teams would begin leaving, including Hermione. She was running out of time.

"And to you, Minerva," Hermione replied with a small smile. "Do you think we'll actually get any work done in here? I for one imagine getting rather sidetracked by all these books.

Minerva laughed outright. "Perhaps we were the wrong team for this part of the cleanup."

"We didn't really have a choice," Hermione mused, humor lacing her tone. "Madam Pince was not going to let just anyone organize all the disheveled tomes. She told me outright that the likes of Seamus and Ron were not to come near the library.

Minerva nodded, thinking about how surprised she'd been when Seamus Finnigan decided to stay and help with the cleanup from the start. He'd told her that when they got to the grounds, he wanted to lead the team that repaired the bridge; the bridge he and Neville Longbottom had blown up. Granted, she'd given them permission to do so.

Ron Weasley had returned to Hogwarts the day before yesterday. He'd been injured in a duel with a Death Eater while out with the Aurors, and was thus no longer able to help in that regard, at least for the next few days. Hermione had told Minerva that Ron didn't like feeling useless; and that's why he'd come back to the school in lieu of being on the front lines.

"How are you handling Mr. Weasley being back in the castle?" Minerva asked, wondering.

Hermione sighed. "He's been relentless in trying to seduce me. This morning I woke to my entire room being covered with flowers. I told him I wasn't interested before he left with Harry, but he's always been a bit thick."

Ah, Minerva thought to herself. An opening. "How about you and I have dinner outside the castle this evening?" she suggested. "Get away from his pestering for a few hours."

Hermione looked amused. "The grounds are a bit of a mess for a picnic," she said pointedly.

"I was thinking a bit more out than that, Hermoine," Minerva replied, rolling her eyes. "As in out of the castle. Off the grounds. Away from Hogwarts."

"What did you have in mind?" the younger woman asked, looking interested.

"That would be telling, Miss Granger," Minerva teased.

"Oh? A surprise?" Hermione asked, still smiling.

"Yes," the older witch stated, matter-of-fact. "We'll work here till four 'o' clock this afternoon, then take an hour to freshen up, and meet in the Entrance Hall at six. Does that suit?"

"If you insist," came an unsure reply.

"I do," Minerva said, smiling. "Now, let's get to work!"

Minerva decided on going into muggle London for an Art exhibit at a local gallery. It was nothing too lavish, but something that the two of them could enjoy together, remarking on the different styles and how art as a whole had evolved over the centuries.

After the art show, the pair went to dinner at a small, muggle cafe which Minerva had discovered some years prior on one of her many ventures out to inform a muggle family - not unlike Hermione's - that their child was magical.

Minerva and Hermione talked, laughed, and overall had a good time just being themselves away from the demands of Hogwarts. Before returning to the school for the night, Minerva had walked them to a small, hidden park which was often times used to host weddings. The site was beautiful; weeping willows and maple trees dominated the greenery, along with a lush carpet of grass, and a creek with a bridge that crossed it. The bridge was wrapped in ivy, and muggle twinkle lights were threaded through, giving a mood to the scene akin to walking on the stars when one looked into the reflective water.

"This place is beautiful, Minerva. Very romantic. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to woo me," Hermione said, in awe of the scene around her.

"Perhaps I am," Minerva said quietly, taking Hermione's hand and slowly pulling the younger witch towards her as they came to the apex of the bridge.

Hermione's eyes widened, and her lips formed an 'oh'. "Min-Minerva?" she stuttered.

"Feel free to tell me if I'm out of line," the older witch said softly. "when I say that I'd really like to kiss you right now."

"I'm...I'm in a bit of a shock, at the moment," Hermione whispered. "But…"

"But?" Minerva pressed, caressing Hermine's jaw with her fingertips.

Hermione took a deep breath, and then looked Minerva directly in the eye. "You're not out of line," she answered.

The younger witch's permission granted, Minerva tipped her head down, and slowly pressed her lips to Hermione's, gently cradling Hermione cheek with one hand, and laying her other hand upon the younger woman's hip. Hermione leaned in and returned the kiss, arms wrapped around her former Professor's waist at first, until the kiss began to build, and Minerva's body hummed as Hermione's fingers ghosted along her sides, exploring.

"Wow," Hermione mumbled when they pulled apart a few minutes later.

"Good wow?" the older witch asked as she breathed in locks of chestnut hair.

"Oh, yes."

They stood there for awhile, but eventually decided to find a seat on a blanket of grass close by. At first they discussed what this change in their relationship meant, and where they each wanted it to lead. Minerva expressed her rapidly growing feelings, and Hermione indicated that she was not interested in a short term arrangement. They both felt that it would be best to keep their budding romance to themselves, for the time being. Minerva and Hermione didn't believe they could explain what had happened between them when they weren't really sure of how to define it themselves. It just had.

Their conversation lead away from their relationship eventually, and back into several of thier usual topics. All the while, they were curled up on the grass together, Hermione sitting between Minerva's legs, back pressed against the older woman's chest as she leaned on a tree. As the night air grew chilly, the Transfiguration Professor thoughtfully conjured a blanket for them. They talked and talked, and kissed some, until Minerva took note of the sky growing lighter.

"It seems our night is over," she whispered, tenderly rubbing Hermione's thigh. "We're loosing darkness."

"There's nothing wrong with the morning," Hermione replied, smiling softly. "It is, after all, symbolic of a new start - our new start."

Minerva chuckled, absently thinking of how this whole thing with Hermione had begun in the early morning hours; the morning after the battle two months ago. "Yes it is, love," she replied. "This is the morning. Our morning."

A little while later, after they had sat, silently watching a brilliant sunrise, the new couple decided it was time to return the Hogwarts. Rolanda greeted them at the gates, grinning suggestively as they approached, holding hands. The Quidditch coach agreed to keep her observations to herself for the time being, it so it was several months before anyone else found out why Hermione didn't leave Hogwarts after the reconstruction was complete.

The brilliant Miss Granger applied and gained her Potions mastery just before the first of September, stepping in for Severus Snape as Potions Professor at the school. By then, the rest of the Hogwarts staff had been informed of Minerva and Hermione's relationship, and had all taken it in good stride. Hermione's parents, as well as Harry, Ron and the rest of the Weasley family had also been accepting of the happy couple's involvement. What had started out for Minerva has a slim to none change of happiness had turned into an amazing reality, and when she and Hermione eventually did marry, they did so at the very same park where they had shared their first kiss, the wedding taking place after dark, and the reception coming to a close as the sun rose the following morning. For the rest of their lives, Minerva and Hermione woke every morning just before dawn to watch the breaking dawn; a daily reminder of the love they'd found after years and years of darkness and pain. Minerva had never been more happy.

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