Just to clear up any confusion, when I started writing this fic I was not expecting a big following, so posted the first part in one big chunk. I have decided to continue the story to cover the course of the war, and perhaps even further (whatever the muse dictates, and however you lot feel about it). That said, each chapter is not going to be 10k, so I've broken the first second down into two parts, and this will be the new installment you have all been clamoring for. While the first (now two) parts were Minerva and Jean's perspectives, the following sections will include Hermione's point of view. Later, I may add more. We'll see what the muse says. I have not decided on how much of an impact Jean's presence in the wizarding world will have on the war. We shall just have to wait and see. :)

Jean woke up with a sigh of contentment. It had been three weeks since she'd come to Hogwarts to be by her daughter's side, and since she'd become involved with the school's Deputy Headmistress. It had been two weeks since John had agreed to a divorce, and one week since the papers had been officially filed. While there was no real love between she and John anymore, there was also no hard feelings, so their split would be an amicable one. Jean was willing to sign over the house in London and her part of the dental practice, and in turn John was willing to sign over the home in Oxford that Jean had been left by her father, and was given full custody of Hermione. John did not ask for visitation, so that was not part of the divorce agreement, though Jean had requested, off the record, that John be available to Hermione should their daughter wish to reach out to him.

The squib was currently staying in a room at The Three Broomsticks, and had struck up the beginnings of a friendship with the proprietress, Rosmerta. Minerva was spending weekends down here with her, Albus being content that his deputy would be close by should something come up. Today was Monday, and according to Minerva they were going to administer the potion to cure Hermione this afternoon. By the evening, Jean's daughter should be awake. Excited as the woman was to have her daughter back to full health, she worried at how Hermione would handle the changes in her life. They would not be returning to London this summer, rather she and Hermione would be purchasing a home of their own. Jean had not yet decided if it would be in the muggle or magical world, though she knew her decision would lean heavily on how Hermione felt about the matter.

A body moved beside her, and Jean looked over and Minerva's sleeping form squirming in protest of the sun peeking in the window. "Gah…" the witch groaned.

"Good morning," Jean said softly, rolling toward her lover and running her hands across Minerva's bare skin, eventually finding and cupping a breast in her palm.

"Hummm…" Minerva hummed. "Morning. What time is it?"

"Only six thirty," the squib replied, letting go of Minerva's breast and trailing her hand down and down until she felt her fingers run over neatly trimmed curls between the other woman's legs.

Minerva's hips arched into the touch, and she moaned as the other woman's fingers sunk into her hot, wet center. "Jean…" she breathed out. "Gods…"

Jean marveled at the ecstasy that touching someone could bring. Before meeting Minerva, she'd only ever felt arousal when being touched; never when just touching someone else. This was insane and wonderful and… oh!

She eeped in surprise when Minerva rolled toward, and then on top of her, pulling her into a passionate kiss. Minerva's fingers clawed though her hair and Jean thrust into the pressure now at the apex of her thighs. "That's it," Minerva encouraged, moving her leg in time with Jean's movement. "Come on, love."

Sensation coursed through Jean's body as she and Minerva moved; lips against lips, breast against breast, thighs against the most intimate part of each other. "C-c-close…" Jean stuttered, chest tight and core humming as a tight, tingling sensation began to overwhelm her senses.

Minerva's lips fell to her shoulder, nipping lightly at the bare skin as she kept the rhythm steady. "With me," she murmured, accent thick.

Jean's world exploded, and she felt Minerva's body shuddering much as her own was. "Ughhh!" she screamed. "Minerva!"

Silence followed for a few minutes, the Scottish woman's body draped over her own, both breathing hard. Eventually, Minerva rolled off her lover, and then pulled Jean's body tight against her own. "Good morning, indeed," she finally said.

Jean laughed. "Quite."

"Today's the day, you know," Minerva continued, sitting up and reaching for her robe. "Hermione is going to wake up. And we'll have to face the music."

"I know," the squib replied, brow etching with worry. "She's ever so fond of you, and I do hope that feeling just translates over, but I do worry she'll feel betrayed. Not that any of this is your fault…"

"I'm not completely innocent, darling," Minerva replied. "I might have urged you to work things out with John. I, rather selfishly, did not."

"Yes you did," Jean objected, remembering how her lover had responded to her initial declaration she'd be getting a divorce. "When you came to get me."

Minerva scoffed. "The thirty seconds that lasted hardly counts, Jean."

Jean sighed. "Hermione is well aware that things with her father and I have not been great. I doubt she'll mind at all we've gone our separate ways. It's just our relationship I worry she'll react badly to."

"We'll find out this afternoon," Minerva said pointedly as Jean also rose to get dressed. "Though I'd suggest you tell her about you and John before you tell her about you and I."

"I do have some sense left," Jean quipped. "Though thanks for the tip."

Hermione Granger was aware of her body being gently urged into a less awkward position than it had been for the last few weeks before she became aware of the sound of her mother's voice. "How long till she wakes?" her mum asked.

"I'd imagine within a few minutes, my dear."

That was Professor McGonagall's voice. Hermione didn't know if her face was mirroring her thoughts, but she was pleased that her favorite teacher was here. She always felt safe around McGonagall; safe, and understood.

"Can she hear us?" Hermione's mum asked.

"Maybe. Her hearing will be the first sense she gets back."

Madam Pomfrey. Hermione thought.

"Perhaps I should go," Professor McGonagall said.

"Please stay, Minerva," Jean requested. "She's not going to suspect you're here for any other reason than concern for her well-fare, as is appropriate from her Head of House."

When had mum gotten so familiar with how things ran at Hogwarts? Hermione wondered. And what other reason would Professor McGonagall be here for? It's not like Madam Pomfrey and mum don't already both know she's got a stronger connection with me because of when I was sick. That was no real secret.

"Alright, love," McGonagall conceded.

The term of endearment did surprise Hermione. McGonagall was well known for calling those she cared about my dear, but the word love… Hermione didn't think she'd ever even heard McGonagall utter the word before. It sounded odd coming from her lips, and she wondered if perhaps her mum and McGonagall had gotten closer while she'd been petrified. However long she'd been like this…

Merlin, Hermione thought. I hope I haven't been like this for years. What if I've missed my OWLs? Or worse, my NEWTs!

"Look, her fingers!" Hermione heard her mum say. In an effort to show she could hear what they were saying, she put some effort into clenching and unclenching her fist.

"She's starting to move, Poppy!"

When had her mum gotten so familiar with Madam Pomfrey? Hermione wondered. She dismissed the thought as the sound of Madam Pomfrey's footsteps getting closer, rather turning her attention to opening her eyes.

"Bright," she croaked.

"Hermione, baby, can you hear me?" her mum asked franticly.

"I've turned down the lights, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey informed her. Try to open your eyes again."

Hermione did as she was told, and was relieved to find the room dimmed to a reasonable level. "How long was I…?"

"Just over three weeks," McGonagall answered, handing her a glass of water, which Hermione sipped gratefully. "And you've had us all worried sick."

"Did you figured it out? The basilisk?" Hermione asked, suddenly remembering why she'd been in this state now that the worry of how long was relieved. "Are Harry and Ron okay?"

Her mum smiled. "Your friends are fine. They managed to kill the beast just this morning."

"THEY DID WHAT?" Hermione yelped.

McGonagall chuckled. "Come now, Hermione. Had you not been in the hospital wing you'd have gone into the Chamber of Secrets with them."

"I thought you said she was the one of them with good sense," Jean said, glaring at McGonagall.

"She is," Hermione's Professor replied. "I did not say that Misters Potter and Weasley would not influence her decisions. They wouldn't know good sense if it hit them over the head with a bludger."

Hermione laughed. "Probably true, Professor," she said. "Though imagine the trouble they'd find without me to be the voice of reason."

"I'd really rather not imagine that scenario, Miss Granger," McGonagall said crisply.

Poppy, who had been silently casting diagnostic spells while they chatting, cleared her throat. "I'm pleased to say you are in fairly good shape, considering. You'll need to take it easy the next couple of days, and you'll tire easily. Your body has had weeks of no movement and your legs especially will feel weak for a bit."

"I understand. Thank you for looking after me, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione replied politely. "When can I go back to classes?"

"At least two days, though you can return to your dorms now, or to your mum's place if you'd prefer – I'm sure the Headmaster will be fine with you going to Hogsmeade under the circumstances," the mediwitch replied.

Hermione turned to her mum, looking confused and a bit concerned. "Mum? Are you living in Hogsmeade? What about dad? He can't see a wizarding town!"

Her mum turned to the Professor. "Perhaps…"

"Of course," McGonagall replied to the unspoken request. "See you for dinner?"

"Your quarters?" her mum asked.

"If you like."

Hermione just gaped at them. She'd always suspected her mum kept in touch with McGonagall after the whole thing with dragon pox – the two seemed far too familiar with each other when the Professor had come to tell her about Hogwarts, for them to have only met that once. But they'd only actually met a couple of times now. It was odd to see them acting so… close.

"You can floo to Rosmerta's from here if you like," Madam Pomfrey chimed in. "Merlin knows you are quite adept at that by now. I don't know why you're not just staying in the castle, Jean."

"You know what Albus said about that," McGonagall said pointedly. "Now, I've got a class to teach. Jean, I'll see you later. Hermione, I'm glad to see you awake."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione replied warily.

"Good day, Poppy," she said finally, at which point Madam Pomfrey smiled and toddled off, and the Professor left, leaving Hermione alone with her mother. They walked over to the floo, slowly for Hermione's part, and made their way to the Three Broomsticks. Hermione mum helped her navigate up a flight of stairs and into a room filled with familiar belongings. An awkward silence filled the room.

"So, Hermione…" Jean finally said.

"When did you come to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

"The day after you were attacked," her mum replied.

"Why?"

"Why not? You're my daughter, I love you, and you were seriously injured."

"I was injured last term, and you didn't come to the castle then," Hermione replied pointedly, thinking of the adventure last year with the Sorcerer's Stone.

"A few bumps and bruises hardly qualify, sweety. You'd get that weekly if you played Quidditch," her mum justified.

"Then there's that!" Hermione exclaimed. "Since when are you so familiar with the wizarding world? You and dad didn't want to hear much about it when I was home last summer!"

Jean frowned. "If you recall, it was only your father who did not show interest. I was always willing to listen, Hermione. And the last few weeks I have been living here, and I've worked my way through a bit of Minerva's library in the process. Not to mention everything Minerva's told me. I've also gotten to be friends with Rosmerta – she's the innkeep at the tavern I'm staying at."

"Then there's that!" Hermione burst out. "Does dad not care that you're staying away so long?!"

"I'm surprised you even need to ask that," Jean replied with a frown. "You know he doesn't."

Hermione's annoyance at her mum's presence vanished on the spot, quickly replaced with concern. "I know he doesn't care about me. But dad loves you."

Her mother sighed. "Hermione your father and I are getting divorce. We will not be returning to London this summer. Rather, you and I will be buying a place of our own – a place we'll pick out together."

"Divorced?" Hermione gaped.

This development sort of thrilled Hermione. Part of why she and Harry had grown close was because they both understood what it was like to live with a relative who didn't care for you at all. Harry had it worse, of course – Hermione had her mum after all – but still, it had been nice to make a friend who understood.

"It's up to you if we live in the wizarding world or the muggle one," Jean continued. "You spent the first twelve years of your life forced to live with me and my bad choice in partners. From here on out, you will have the right to an opinion on matters that impact you. I can't promise I'll always go with whatever you want, but I will certainly give your thoughts and feelings more consideration than I have in the past."

"So, if I said I wanted a baby brother or sister?" Hermione said slyly, voicing a wish of hers that was no secret to her mother, though she wouldn't have dared suggest it to her dad. He didn't even want her, let alone a second child.

"That would depend on how my new partner feels about the subject, and if there's a spell or something that would allow two women to have a child together," her mum replied.

Bomb. Dropped.

Hermione just stared, eyes wide for a moment before she began to stutter out an inquiry for clarification. "What? You're… you're with… a… what?" Forget wanting a sibling – for the moment – this was huge!

Jean blushed. "I'm seeing someone."

"A woman?!"

"Yes."

"A witch?!"

"Yes."

Hermione was reeling, but her mind was still working quite well despite everything, and quite suddenly she remembered the term of endearment she'd heard McGonagall use as she'd been waking up. "Oh sweet Merlin," she whispered. "You're seeing McGonagall."

Jean looked surprised, but nodded. "I am. Do you… I mean – does it… I mean – are you alright with that?"

The second year Gryffindor let out a little laugh. "Sure. I mean, she's already like a second mum to me. Why not make it official?"

Her mum let out an obvious sigh of relief. "Thank you sweety. I was so worried you'd…"

"Flip out?"

Jean nodded. "You'd have had every right to do so. It's quite a shock to fall asleep with two happily married parents, and to wake to find them divorced and your mum snogging your Professor."

Hermione's face squished. "I don't need that mental picture, mum. If you're happy, I'm fine with it. I mean, if it had to be one of my Professors, at least it wasn't Professor Snape or something."

"Hey, I like Severus!" her mum teased.

"That's not okay," Hermione teased. "Date McGonagall all you want, but I'll absolutely die if I have to tell my friends that my mum is friends with Professor Snape. Harry and Ron would go mental."

Jean laughed. "Okay, okay. I won't invite Severus to tea."

"Good."

"I'll have tea with him at his place."

"Mum!"

"More likely to have Minerva over to our place. I do like to snog her and stuff, after all," Jean continued, teasing smile on her face.

"MUM!" Hermione shouted, exasperated. Ron and Harry were going to flip out when they found out about this.

Jean made her way to Minerva's quarters, Hermione in tow. She's spoken with her lover after filling her daughter in on everything, and given how well Hermione had received the news, Minerva had suggested that they both come to dinner. The Transfiguration Professor was anxious about how the dynamic between herself and her pupil would change, now that the proverbial cat was out of the bag. Jean was equally anxious to reassure her lover, and Hermione was taking everything in stride. Besides, Hermione wanted to see Harry and Ron, which she'd be doing after they'd had dinner with Minerva.

"Darling?" Jean called after uttering the password to Minerva's quarters.

"In the kitchen, love!" Minerva called back.

Hermione shook her head, large grin on her face.

"What?" Jean asked defensively.

The thirteen year old let out a small laugh. "Just…adapting."

"And quite well, from what your mother has told me," Minerva stated, coming out of the kitchen and into the main living area of her quarters. "Though I can refrain from such terms of endearment in your presence, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, no," Hermione assured her professor. "Certainly not on my account. I'm happy to see my mum happy. My father seldom, well… I'm sure you know already."

Jean sighed. "I feel a bit like an idiot, you know."

Minerva and Hermione both turned to look at her. "Why?"

"For not doing this years ago," she replied. Regret was not a strong enough word for her feelings on that topic. She had no doubts that, had she left John after Hermione got Dragon Pox, she and Minerva would have gotten together years ago. John, and his lack of love for herself and their daughter, could have been a footnote of her life, rather than half the book. While she may live longer than the average muggle, she had no doubts that Minerva would still outlive her, despite being years older.

Hermione grinned. "Yeah, had that happened, I would have had a couple of siblings by now."

Jean and Minerva both blushed furiously. "Hermione…" Jean muttered. "As I told you before, I'm not even sure that's possible."

"Professor?" Hermione asked, turning to her mentor. "Is it possible? For two women to have kids, in the wizarding world? I imagine there would be some transfiguration involved, but you're really good at that, so…"

"Hermione Jean Granger!" Jean hissed in embarrassment.

Minerva cleared her throat. "It's quite alright, Jean," she said awkwardly. "It is indeed possible, with transfiguration and a complex potion, for two women to conceive a child. That being said, if you will be getting a sibling or two is a subject your mum and I have not discussed at all."

"Well, don't let me stop you," Hermione shrugged, grinning. "Discuss away."

"If and when we discuss it, it will be in private, young lady," Minerva replied sternly, obviously having had quite enough of Hermione's antics. Not that Jean blamed her.

Hermione's eyes lowered. "Yes ma'am," she replied.

Jean's eyes widened. "How did you do that?" she asked her partner. She'd been the primary parent to this impudent child for over thirteen years, and never had she been able to dissuade Hermione from pushing once she'd set her mind to something.

Minerva raised as eyebrow, obviously picking up on the unsaid thoughts. "Miss Granger," she said crisply. "I expect from now on you will be showing your mother the respect due to her."

Jean turned and looked at her daughter, who was gulping visibly. "Yes, Professor," she whispered.

"Well, that just confirms in then," the squib muttered. "I should have been with you all along. Miracle worker – that's what you are."

"You're the miracle," Minerva whispered, kissing Jean lightly on the lips.

"So… what's for dinner?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Jean and Minerva looked over to the young witch, both laughing when they realized she was facing away from them, obviously not quite ready to see them snogging.

Minerva transformed into her animagis form, carefully following as Hermione, Harry, and Ron left the Great Hall. She knew Hermione was about to tell them about she and Jean, and wanted to be there in case the shared secret was poorly received. They had discussed telling Harry and Ron over dinner, and while she and Jean had told Hermione it was fine if she told her two closest friends, Minerva had decided it wise to tag along for the telling. It wasn't that she felt any shame for being with Jean, but she didn't want to put Jean, or Hermione for that matter, in danger just for being her family.

Gods, she had a family. The notion had struck her a few weeks prior, but now that Hermione was awake, reality had set in, and it was awe inspiring. She'd never expected to have a family. A partner, sure. She'd had Amelia for years, though they'd never even considered having children. Amelia had not wanted them, and Minerva had accepted that. Jean, however, was still young enough to have another child or two, if she liked, and even if they also opted to not have children, Hermione would be her step-daughter in due time.

"Guys, I need to tell you something," Hermione whispered to the boys, bringing Minerva's attention back to the present. "It's a secret, so I need your word that no matter how you feel about it, you won't tell anyone."

"We've got your back, 'Mione," Ron replied.

"You can trust us," Harry added.

"My parents have gotten a divorce," Hermione stated.

Harry smiled knowingly, but the smile was replaced with a look of confusion. "Why is that a big secret?"

"My mum is living in Hogsmeade," she continued with her explanation.

"O…kay," Ron said slowly. "Not to quote Harry, but why is that a big secret? We've seen your mum around the castle a handful of times since you were petrified."

"My mum's dating McGonagall," Hermione finally said. "That is what has to stay a secret."

Ron's reaction, as Minerva had come to expect from the boy, was a predictable shocked expression, followed by the words "Bloody Hell!"

Harry, on the other hand, just looked relieved. "Oh good. You know."

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "What do you mean, I know?"

Harry looked guiltily at his friend. "Saw them snogging last week. Didn't know anything about your parents splitting, so I didn't want to confront them or anything, and well, you weren't awake."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron asked, face red.

"If McGonagall had been snogging your mum, I would have," Harry replied. "Hermione, I was going to tell you when you came back to the Tower tonight. Glad I don't have to, though. Was not looking forward to it, at all. I am glad that your mum and McGonagall are a thing and your mum is leaving your dad – the git – but I didn't know they were splitting and even though you don't like your dad, well, I didn't want to see you hurting, because you might have felt betrayed by your mum and the professor."

Hermione nodded, accepting the explanation. Minerva was floored at Harry Potter's maturity. She knew his own home life was less that loving, so it really wasn't a surprise that he and Hermione had bonded over a shared dislike for a parent, or in Harry's case, his guardians. Still, Minerva couldn't have been prouder of her cub for keeping what he'd seen – she and Jean snogging – to himself. He might have created a terrible and possibly dangerous mess had he told anyone. Word traveled fast at Hogwarts, and word got out of Hogwarts with the daily Owl post.

Minerva moved away from the still chatting trio, comfortable that they would keep the secret. As soon as she was clear of the hall way and into the Entry Hall, she transformed back into human form, and eyed the Gryffindor hourglass. "Twenty points to Gryffindor," she whispered. "For respecting privacy."

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