The Growing Flame

A/N I reposted this chapter with some new paragraphs to make it an easier read at the request of a few reviewers. If there's anything else you think I should adjust then just let me know.

P.S Thanks for all the great reviews so far guys, I'll try and give you all a shout-out in A/N of my next chapter. I might post chapter 2 tonight actually... tonight in the UK that is.

Summary: Minerva always saw a little of herself in the Gryffindor who found the greatest pleasures in learning, a woman who like herself took no nonsense, was fiercely loyal and never backed down. So as Hermione reaches woman-hood and returns to Hogwarts after the war to complete her education, how will their relationship change? Rated M for later scenes, possible of a sexual nature.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything associated with the series. I just think the character's are well matched and adapted their relationship to suit my own purpose.

Chapter 1

Minerva pushed gently on the portrait door, taking care to be silent as possible. The older woman liked to check the common room in the early hours, keeping a keen eye on her cubs. Her eyes adjusted in the light, the warm glow of the common room fire a stark contrast to the eerie darkness which crept through the corridors of Hogwarts. Straight away her eyes fell on a mountain of books that a student had obviously neglected to put away. They cast a long shadow over the room from the table. Minerva walked over to the pile with a weak curiosity, picking up the nearest book and turning it over to view the cover. A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, the professor smiled. Suddenly a moan came from behind the books and the chair could be heard shifting slightly. Minerva tensed with surprise, her wand suddenly in her hand, "lumos". Miss Granger. Roles of parchment acted as a pillow for the poor girl, ink from the most recently written smudged across her cheek and forehead; the quill was still in her hand. Minerva recognised the essay as one she had set, also noticing that it exceeded her world limit with excess associated only with the Gryffindor who slept before her.

Minerva smiled at the girl who reminded her so much of herself, drawing closer to her with an outreaching arm. She shook the girl's shoulder slightly

"Miss Granger... wake up... Hermione, dear."

The girl nuzzled her face further into the crook of her arm but a final jostle seemed to catch her attention. Slowly her eyes opened, suddenly snapping so as she took in the identity of the woman before her.

"Professor!"

She sat bolt upright in her chair, sending quills and parchment flying onto the floor. Minerva's smile only widened at the sight of her most eager student.

"I think perhaps you should go to bed dear, it is late, or rather 'early' ".

Hermione's eyes fell onto the pile of work, half finished and yet still perfect. Minerva flicked her wand, the pile disappearing instantly. Hermione turned to the woman whose face still bore a warm smile, both confusion and worry apparent on the features of her face.

"All upstairs, stacked beside your bed, dear."

Miss Granger gave a sigh and nodded with understanding, slowly rising from her chair with a fixed exhaustion. As the young woman ambled clumsily up the steep staircase that lead to the dormitories Minerva wondered how many nights Hermione spent in the common room buried among her books; and how she was coping with the mountain of work she had taken on this year. She decided she would look into it, unable to avoid the niggle of worry that crept among her thoughts.

As Hermione tiptoed into the Great Hall the following morning she lowered her head in a feeble attempt to avoid detection. The sight of this made Minerva's eyebrow quirk with amusement.

"What's so funny Minerva?" Flitwick inquired with a look of excited curiosity.

"Just a student Filius, you know how it is."

Filius nodded with a hint of disappointment evident across his brow. And suddenly food appeared before them and breakfast commenced. Slowly the sea of students at the four house tables thinned, and as Hermione got up from among their fellow Gryffindors Minerva also rose from her seat. The other members of staff eyed her with a look of confusion, traditionally the staff were the last to leave, so they could socialise without the students for a while.

She made her way towards her, "Miss Granger, could I have a word?"

In all honesty she wasn't asking, and regardless of the young woman's response they would be having that word. Hermione seemed to sense this as with a quivering voice of resignation she nodded. Minerva raised her hand and indicated for Hermione to walk out the hallway. And so the pair made their way out of the Great Hall. McGonagall lead the brown hair beauty into an empty classroom and leant onto the teacher's desk, Hermione automatically taking the role of the pupil and sat at one of the student's desks at the front. Brown eyes were covered by shaking hands as the younger of the two tried to bury her face in her hands and hide from the embarrassment which enveloped her.

"Hiding from me will do you no good Miss Granger, we must talk about last night, although I doubt it was a one off instance. Am I right?"

Hermione felt like a small child caught in wrongdoing, unable to lie due to a beautiful innocence. She nodded, the movement small and sombre, and with the motion came the tears. Minerva froze... was Miss Granger crying? That wasn't her intention, not at all. She rushed forward, horrified at what she had reduced her student to. She knelt before the desk until her face was level with Hermione's, and she carefully took the girl's smooth cheek in her left hand, tilting her face upwards with her index finger.

"Look at me dear, there is no reason to cry."

And yet great sobs still heaved from her chest, shining tears lacing the dark thick lashes which framed the downward looking chocolate eyes. Clearly Minerva wasn't going to get a coherent conversion with her pupil as she thought, not that such matters usually stopped the Transfiguration Professor.

"It has become obvious to me of late... that maybe you aren't coping well at the present."

The young woman shook her head, a feeble denial which only warmed Minerva's heart further. She had bags under her eyes, tears flowed freely from her eyes and she shook from both the emotion which consumed her and the exhaustion which gripped her.

"This is an awfully lonely conversation at present, dear, and I really do think you should talk to someone. Don't make me sign you up for counselling, because I warn you that silence is the path. You are always alone, buried in a book or scribbling notes furiously. You never speak, never make eye contact with people, never smile or laugh. It isn't Hermione."

She felt awful for admonishing the poor girl, but Minerva hadn't lied, if she didn't start talking she'd be forced to notify a counsellor at St Mungo's.

"Hermione!"

The young woman tensed, startled and finally looked into the emerald depths of Minerva's eyes. Plump pink lips opened with hesitation and Minerva took the girl's hand in her own to encourage her.

"I..." Minerva nodded. "Everything is so hard. No Harry and Ron to brighten the darkness which looms which increasing frequency. Hours and hours of work which have replaced time I used to sleep during. I'm so tired that my eyes burn, each intake of breath feeling like I've raced up a flight of stairs. And yet I must continue; I have to succeed. Because every moment that isn't filled with work gives my brain time to remember all those who died, everyone we lost, every moment of fear and sadness, of thinking I could die at any moment. So maybe I should see a counsellor Professor, but I just don't have time."

During her speech the sobs had stopped, replaced with a look of irritation, or anger. This was the fiery Gryffindor whom even Minerva had a mild fear of.

"I understand how hard life can be without friends to confide in, so I propose a new, if unorthodox, friendship. Between us. We could meet every few nights and talk about your lessons, or play chess. I could give you some extra mentoring in Transfiguration if it would seal the deal. Well?"

Hermione's brow was furrowed with doubt. She spoke cautiously, with great consideration.

"I wouldn't like to be a burden to you Professor..."

Minerva frowned, regretting the words she was about to say.

"It's that or the counsellor. And forcing you there would be much more of a burden, I assure you."

Hermione sighed; Minerva had a way of forcing your hand whilst giving you a choice. And it was infuriating. She nodded tersely and rose from her chair, wrenching her hand away from her Professors. When she saw the look of hurt on Minerva's face her features softened somewhat and she felt guilty, this wasn't her fault after all. She tried a smile but it pained the muscles in her cheek. She thought she might cry again, so turned and walked towards the door.

"My office, tonight, at 8 o'clock dear."

A/N Hey guys, I'd be awfully grateful for some reviews, just so I know someone is actually reading it I'll update soon, hopefully in a few days.