Hello lovely readers! I'm back again, because what else do you do when cooped up at home over spring break? Here is the next installment, I hope you enjoy.

As usual, all mistakes are mine, all rights are not.

"OI! What the bloody hell is going on here?!"

The two witches sprang apart, startled by the shout. Ron Weasley stood stock still in the doorway, horror etched plainly across his face.

Minerva made to move away from Hermione even further, but was stopped by Hermione's hand on her arm. The young witch stared back at Ron, face stony, daring him to say something more.

"Mr. Weasley," Minerva tried, hoping to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand. "I'm sure this is difficult to process, but-"

"Bugger processing!" the redhead blurted, storming into the room. "You were trying to snog Hermione!"

"Ronald!" Hermione snapped, stepping in front of Minerva. "Use your brain for once in your life." She looked pointedly at him as he stood awkwardly, eyes darting between the two women in front of him. Suddenly, his eyes went wide and he paled under his freckles.

"No." He uttered the word softly, beginning to back away. "No, no, no, no, that can't be what's happening." His hands clenched into fists as his eyes dropped to the floor. "McGonagall can't be your mate, 'Mione. It's wrong."

Anger flared once again as Minerva glared at the young man standing across the room. The pull urged her to be close to Hermione as the younger witch started to advance on her old friend. She reached out just in time to stop Hermione from shoving into Ron with outstretched hands.

"How dare you Ronald Weasley!" She struggled free of Minerva's hands, even as the Scottish witch tried to calm her down. "You knew about my inheritance and it didn't bother you before." She poked him hard in the chest causing him to flinch, but he didn't retaliate.

"Hermione," Minerva murmured, reaching for her shoulders again. "It may not be the inheritance that's bothering him, but with whom you've been bonded." Hermione's eyes widened briefly before she frowned and looked away. Minerva kept her hands on Hermione's shoulders as she turned her head to address the lanky figure before her.

"As difficult as this may be for you, Mr. Weasley, it is even more difficult for Hermione and myself. Especially knowing that the wizarding world at large will react in much the same way you just did." She turned back to Hermione, noticing that the younger woman had tears running down her cheeks. "If you truly are her friend, you'll understand that neither of us had any say in this, and you'll support her, us, fully." She let go of Hermione's shoulders, reaching instead to take her hand to lead her out of the room.

Comfort was the only thing the pull was urging her to give Hermione, and she intended to do just that, away from any of the others.

"It should have been me," Ron mumbled after they had passed him. "I just thought it would take a bit of time for the veela thing to happen, you know? It's not like love at first sight, right?"

Minerva paused, allowing Hermione the chance to answer.

"I'm sorry Ron," she replied flatly. "But my veela never saw you as anything but a friend, and neither did I." She turned back to Minerva and followed the Scottish witch out of the room.

Bill had led them up the stairs to a small, cozy bedroom with a merrily crackling fireplace. A queen sized bed with simple white linens sat to one side, while a window out over the sea opened on the opposite wall. The roar of the waves pounded the outside of the house as they stepped into the room and closed the door behind themselves.

Hermione moved away from the older woman to sit on the bed, ignoring the pull as she gathered her knees into her chest. Ron's reaction had hardly surprised her, but she had been hurt and angered by it nonetheless. Minerva's support, even while she herself was struggling with their situation, meant the world to Hermione, but she couldn't help but be consumed by the guilt of putting the raven-haired witch in their current position.

"I'm sorry," she choked out before putting her head on her knees. "I never meant for this to happen."

Immediately, strong arms wrapped around her as Minerva sat behind her on the bed. The warmth and comfort of the older witch immediately soothed Hermione, though she couldn't help but feel even worse about their situation. She was quickly realizing that the pull didn't have to work very hard in order for her to want to be close to Minerva. The older witch was alluring in her own right, and Hermione doubted very much if she could slow down what was happening between them. That said, Minerva had just started adjusting to their new situation, and they had only kissed a handful of times.

"My dear Hermione," Minerva murmured into her hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for." She kissed the top of Hermione's head and the younger witch melted into her embrace even more. The Scottish witch's arms held her securely while they sat, tightening ever so slightly when Hermione felt herself succumbing to her emotions again.

"Minerva," Hermione uttered, shifting so she could face the older woman.

Minerva hummed in response, released her hold, and shuffled backwards so they could face one another properly, eyes shining with understanding.

"I truly am sorry. No, don't interrupt," she stopped Minerva, who had opened her mouth to protest. "I'm sorry for putting you in a situation like this, but I'm not sorry at the same time and I feel terribly guilty about it." She took Minerva's hands in her own, letting the now familiar feeling of their magic responding to each other wash over her.

"I'm not sorry that I'm bonded to you. I know it's selfish, but of all the people in the wizarding world, you're the one I always felt the most connected to." She smiled, looking into Minerva's eyes. "I'm finding it easier and easier to let myself be drawn to you, and I don't want to stop what's happening between us." Blushing, she let go of Minerva's hands and reached up to cup her face. "So, I guess I'm sorry but I'm not sorry, does that make sense?"

Minerva smiled in response, eyes crinkling at the edges as she did so.

"Of course it does dear. I feel much the same way." She reached up to cover Hermione's hands with her own. "I'm sorry that you're in this situation as well, but I'm also not sorry at the same time. I also feel like I'm getting closer with you, and as that's happening, I'm more and more alright with it."As she spoke the words, the magic that had been subtly coiling around them began to churn and swirl, lifting Hermione's hair in tendrils as though she were caught in a gentle updraft.

"Fascinating," Minerva murmured, taking Hermione's hands away from her face, lowering them to hold them in the space between them and gazing in amazement at the physical manifestations of their magic in the space. Hermione's giggles brought her attention back to the younger woman's features.

"What?"

Still smiling, Hermione squeezed her fingers.

"Only you could be fascinated by what's happening to us right now." She leaned forward and gently placed her lips against Minerva's, sighing at the contact. The kiss was brief, but as they pulled apart, the churning became a torrent, lifting other objects in the room. Minerva's eyes widened, causing Hermione to turn and survey the room.

"Err, Minerva?" Hermione questioned, concern knitting her brows together. "How do I stop it?" The small side tables, lamps, and rug began to float around the room in a large circle over their heads, gaining speed as they went. "Minerva?"

"It's alright Hermione," Minerva stated quickly, grabbing Hermione's face and pulling it around to look at her. "Focus on me and take big, calming breaths, alright?"

Hermione did as instructed, gazing into Minerva's eyes and inhaling deeply, letting the breath go before inhaling again. The flames in the hearth flared as she did so, causing the room to flash with light. Hermione's eyes darted around and then upwards, watching the swirling objects become faster and more erratic.

"Hermione!" Minerva said sharply, bringing the brunette's attention back to her. "Focus on me, it's alright, you can stop it."

Hermione's eyes snapped back towards Minerva's, panic etched across her face. A table bumped the wall behind her, causing her to jump and her breath to start coming in short gasps.

Minerva pressed their lips together urgently, making Hermione squeak in surprise. Persisting through the younger woman's stiffness, Minerva gently reached around to the back of Hermione's head, caressing the soft skin at the nape of her neck. Sighing, Hermione finally melted into the kiss, returning Minerva's embrace. As their lips moved together, the flaring fire slowly returned to its normal height, and the debris began slowing in the air. Hermione then slid her tongue along Minerva's lower lip, causing her to gasp. As she did so, Hermione pushed her tongue to slide against the older woman's, eliciting a deep moan.

As if the moan brought Hermione to her senses, she suddenly jerked away from Minerva and toppled backwards off the bed, landing with a resounding thud on the floor. As she did so, the flotsam above her dropped, like gravity had suddenly been reinstated. Bracing for impact, Hermione scrunched her eyes shut and hunched into a ball.

The crash never happened though, and as Hemrione opened her eyes, she saw Minerva standing above her, hands outstretched, calmly lowering everything to the floor.

"Err, I," Hermione muttered, caught up in watching the older woman wandlessly set the room to rights. As Minerva finished, Hermione sprang to her feet, brushing herself off and avoiding looking at the older woman.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione could hear the concern in the older witch's voice but didn't turn around, awkwardly picking a bit of lint from her sleeve instead.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied. "Thank you for stopping everything from landing on me." She cleared her throat, stepping away from Minerva and moving to the window. The sky outside was steely, threatening rain and cold with its darkness. As she watched the world outside, she heard Minerva sit back down on the bed.

"I apologize, Hermione."

Hermione turned to regard the older woman, confusion creasing her brows together. Minerva looked back at her, sadness cloaking her posture and expression.

"I realize now that I was out of line, and should not have pushed myself on you in that way." She looked away from Hermione and stared into the flames in the hearth. "It won't happen again."

Hermione's eyes widened, realizing that Minerva assumed her retreat to the window was the older woman's fault. She moved across the room and stood blocking Minerva's view of the fire.

"Minerva," she started, unsure of how to voice her feelings. "I'm not upset with you."

Minerva turned green eyes up to look at Hermione, whose heart broke at the sadness she found there.

"I was feeling upset with myself for pushing you too far, I know we haven't spoken about, err, that, yet." She scratched the back of her neck, feeling awkward discussing something so intimate. "But, it was my fault that things went too far, I'm sorry."

"Bu-"

"'Ermione! Minerva!" Fleur's voice called from the landing. "Zere's somesing we need to talk to you about, will you come down please?"

Hermione smiled ruefully at Minerva before replying.

"We'll be down in a minute!"

She held her hand out to Minerva, who glanced up at her before taking it.

"We'll talk about this later, then?" she asked, standing.

"Later," Hermione agreed.

They entered the small kitchen, stopping when all eyes turned on them. Hermione stood taller, lifting her chin and taking Minerva's hand in her own. They walked to the table together, ignoring the raised eyebrows of many at the table. Tea and biscuits were laid out on the table and Hermione snatched one of the round treats as they sat.

"So," she started, eyeing each of them in turn. "What is it that you needed to speak to us about?" She noticed that Ron had purposefully avoided looking her in the eye, but she turned to Bill and Fleur, knowing that the ones who would lead this conversation would be them. Bill cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing at his wife before addressing the group.

"It's more that we have something to talk to Minerva about." He turned his eyes on the older witch, who Hermione noticed returned his gaze coolly. "When you asked us about keeping the wards up and being safe, we weren't sure how much we should be telling you." He glanced at Fleur again, who nodded for him to continue.

"The reason the wards have been unaffected is because the person who put them in place is still alive and safe." Hermione watched his features as he spoke. Something about the way he was speaking set her on edge, and she didn't like it.

Minerva gasped beside her and Hermione turned to regard the Scottish witch.

"That's not possible," she uttered, looking down at the table. "Severus is dead." She looked back at Bill. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Err, well, ahem."

"What my 'usband is failing to tell you," Fleur interrupted him. "Is zat you were ze one to put ze wards around our 'ouse." She reached out and grabbed a biscuit off the plate in front of her, lifting it to her mouth and taking a delicate bite.

"That's also not possible," Minerva stated, hands fisted on the table. Hermione reached a hand under the table and placed it on Minerva's knee, hoping to show her support discreetly. The older witch glanced at her briefly before turning back to look at the pair across from them. "Severus was the one to place the wards around Shell Cottage, I watched him do it."

"Come now Minerva," Bill spoke again. "You're a witch, aren't you? Surely you know how that could be possible." Hermione watched his eyes, filled with guilt, drop back to the tabletop. She then turned to look at Minerva, who was gaping at him like a fish. Suddenly, the older woman shot to her feet, tears threatening to fall from the edges of her eyes. Hermione stood also, putting her hand on Minerva's arm for support.

"Who was it?" The older woman kept her eyes trained on the guilty looking pair on the other side of the table. "Who modified my memory?"

"It was Albus, of course," Fleur replied, looking back into Minerva's face. "He sought it would be for ze best if your memory was of Severus performing ze warding. Zat way, you could never give up ze information if you were caught." She looked away as she finished, and Hermione knew the French witch felt horrible. Regardless, she squeezed Minerva's arm, letting her know she was still there.

"Thank you for telling me." Minerva's face had become an icy mask, showing no emotion as she stepped away from Hermione and back out of the room the way they had come in. Hermione saw the smallest flash of sorrow as the woman turned from her and she turned to give Bill and Fleur a furious glare before turning to follow the raven haired witch back to their room.

Thoughts? Feelings? Leave me a comment and let me know!

- Imp