At Any Moment II

Hermione II

By OzRatbag2

About 10 o’clock in the evening...

I should imagine Minerva is busy trying to quiet down Gryffindor Tower right about now. Excited students all getting ready to leave on the Hogwarts Express in the morning and the parties and chatter of the seventh years beforehand as they try to reminisce in the short time left to do so as students. I can only imagine what it would have been like, because at this time last year, I was unconscious and according to Minerva no one was sure if I’d survive, particularly as I was unconscious for so long. No one knew what was wrong with either of us at the time, as both of us had only a few scratches and curse burns to show for the battle itself. No potion, charm or remedy worked for either of us and Professor Dumbledore told me later that Professor Snape had kept coming back to check on the pair of us often. That was a surprise, but then I suppose he wanted to make sure that I didn’t inadvertently blurt out something of his own trauma if I had chosen to speak or wake up suddenly.

It really is sobering to think that I might never have woken up, not that I would have realised it, of course, but there you go.

Minerva and I talked about that day when we went for our usual weekly lunch today. She Apparated into my living room just after she’d shooed the last student out of her classroom after the Transfiguration exam. We wandered off; after I’d made sure she’d pass as a Muggle, to a lovely little café near my home. It’s directly opposite a park that my parents used to take me to as a child. So many childhood memories wrapped up in those swings, slippery dips and my favourite see-saw, all of them unchanged in my ever changing world. I had to walk the long way to the shops for quite a while after I woke up because I couldn’t walk past the park without crying. All those memories of happy times, of laughter and scrapes, tears and hugs were too much to bear, so I avoided the park as though it didn’t exist. It wasn’t until I was tired one afternoon that I forgot about my resolution to avoid the area, and I walked straight past it, almost without thinking. I’m sure the children playing wondered what the silly woman sitting on the park bench was crying for and why she kept looking up to see the laughter and squeals of children with no cares in the world other than the dings and scrapes if they pushed themselves too far.

I didn’t avoid the park after that, in fact I made sure I picked a coffee up from the café, if I was out and about, and went and sat on my park bench to watch the children enjoying themselves no matter how atrocious the weather. Oh, I’d remember happier times, Arcanus, but it was  therapeutic in an odd sort of a way to just sit and watch the world go by, all the while thinking about the time when my greatest fear was falling off the see-saw or going too high on the swing. I have a lot of fond memories in that park and I’m so glad I’ve discovered it again.

Anyway, as Minerva and I walked to the café I filled her in on my association to it and my neighbourhood in general. She was interested to see how Muggleborn children lived prior to receiving their letter and the differences weren’t as great as I had always imagined them. Oh, there was the obvious difference that for pureblood children magic was something inherent in them, not secretive or strange, but all in all, we all had fairly similar childhoods – and it was a surprise. We’ve talked about all sorts of things in this last year, but today was the first time we’d both really opened up and just talked about all of it. Thank goodness the café was fairly deserted and we could sit right near the kerb with a clear view of the verdant greenery in the park directly opposite us.

We talked around the issues foremost in both our minds for quite a while, until we’d ordered our coffee and a cheese platter just to nibble from for however long it took us to decide that an armchair and privacy was more conducive to our chatter. Minerva wanted to stay for dinner that night and had it not been the Leaving Feast we may well have had dinner at that same café. As it was, the waitress left us alone more or less, as if sensing that we had important things to talk about. Minerva had wanted to cast a privacy charm, but we both decided that if our talk turned to such a degree we’d just go home and continue to talk there. Neither of us, with our shared history, really wanted to practice any subterfuge for what turned out to be a remarkably frank conversation with more than a few tears from both of us. That was later in the afternoon when we decided to walk home and sit comfortably together on the lounge.

I’m waffling again, trying to find a good way to start it all, but do you know, Arcanus, I don’t think I can ever recall Minerva having cried before...well, other than her obvious anguish as she cradled Draco, of course.

I know everything now. In fact, I’ve known all about Minerva’s past for a while now, but it didn’t seem to make any sense, and so I suppose I just ignored it and concentrated on those things that really just mattered to me. I was so shocked to see her break away from our group in the middle of the fighting to go over and drop to her knees next to Draco Malfoy. The pain and anguish on her face was horrifying, when so much of that day was an appalling waste of life. I couldn’t watch for too long, but I was so shocked that I was grateful no one was advancing on me at the time. Malfoy bleeding into the lawn though is an image I will never lose, but to find out later about his apparent stealth towards me at the time he was cursed was frightening. It still makes me shudder even now with the realisation that had he succeeded I might not have survived.

It wasn’t until I woke up...and even then it took several weeks for some of Minerva’s history to become known to me. I just couldn’t understand why she kept apologising for the sins of the Malfoys, father and son. You see, it seems I’d forgotten Lucius Malfoy’s angry ranting, even though Minerva reminded me that she’d already shown me the evidence of it all, as well as told me the back-story to the whole thing. After today, I remember it all as though it happened only yesterday instead of a year ago. Prior to today, I still held to the belief that it was an aberration on my memory and not the truth. It’s silly, really, what the mind will try and convince itself to believe when the truth is actually more shocking.  I knew that Minerva had been married previously and that she’d had a child whom she’d abandoned after her first husband died. I was appalled to think she could leave a child behind, but then she explained just how it had all come about and then gave me more background to the ‘whole sordid mess’ as she put it this afternoon. I still don’t know if she’s still ashamed of her past, or indeed, why she kept such a tight rein on it all, but after today we’re both a great deal closer than I think either of us thought was possible.

It’s almost like me trying to recount and prise my memories of the battle out, as Minerva had to do with her Pensieve. It’s that same surreal sensation of knowing that something momentous is happening, but missing the ability to grasp the enormity of it all until afterwards. Minerva had brought a wizarding photograph with her today and I’d never seen a picture of her so young...my age just about. She told me she’d kept it to remind herself of happier times, and also as a lesson to look below the surface thereafter. It’s almost as though she has tried to distance herself from the past in such a way that the fight brought it all painfully to the surface again. She told me she’d tried to bury it all again, but like most secrets, its time of reckoning had arrived and she knew intimately that she had to deal with it all or go mad ignoring it to the detriment of her relationship with Professor Dumbledore...Albus.

That revelation was a surprise as well, but I sort of twigged that they were more than just friends and colleagues when she kept mentioning him by name, particularly if he had annoyed her enough that it cropped up as a general query about school and what everyone was doing. It’s strange in a way, but it seems that the school just keeps running and although the houses seem to be a bit more friendly, there is still that odd reticence in the houses. Well, that’s the sense I get from Minerva at any rate, but I daresay you might have another idea about it all, Arcanus?

I didn’t think you’d answer me, but it would have been nice to know that you could ‘talk’ to me if I really needed a confidante of sorts. I suppose me rambling on doesn’t really count, and so I suppose I’ll have to wait.

Minerva also asked me why I never seemed to talk about Harry or Ron any more, almost as though they had ceased to exist. I suppose they have in a roundabout sort of way. Oh, we’ve always had the normal chats about what Harry and Ron are up to, but none of us kept in touch much after I woke up. They came over once or twice, but then I heard Harry had signed a contract with a Quidditch team in Wales and Ron was working with his father at the Ministry. I haven’t heard from either of them for months now, but I know I’ll still get the odd owl for a while and then nothing. I guess we all grew up and realised that the only thing we all actually had in common was that we went to school together and we all banded together to save our world from a dark wizard. Our lives now are different enough that we seem to have just spiralled away from each other and I really am happy to potter around at home.

After I’d sat my delayed N.E.W.T.S at the Ministry a few months ago, I then had all the mess of tidying up the dental clinic and my parents’ will. After I’d put the business up for sale and then paid all the taxes that the vultures had surfaced to claim, I discovered I had enough left so that I didn’t have to work for a while, but I’d still like the security of knowing that some of it is there when I need it.

Minerva has offered to help me with money more than once, but it really didn’t seem right when I could just go out and work myself. So I let her know today, before we came home in the afternoon, that I’m starting a new job on Monday in one of the bistros attached to a pub close to home. She wasn’t at all impressed with the idea and tried more than once during the afternoon to dissuade me with all sorts of nonsense about public houses and the sorts of people who work there. If she hadn’t been quite so serious about my virtue, it would have been laughable. I think Minerva is convinced that I’ll be working somewhere like the Leaky Cauldron or the Hogs Head, with their dank, musty interiors, not in a modern bistro with air and lighting and decent working conditions. She seemed a little more placated when I told her that it was a family run business and that I could Apparate home from the back office as it had a door that led out to the alleyway behind the hotel. I didn’t tell her it was a pub because hotel sounds more civilised – at least to her way of thinking at any rate.

I’m looking forward to lunch next week, though now with school holidays, I wouldn’t put it past Minerva to drop in unexpectedly before Friday rolls around...just to make sure I’m alright and I haven’t been kidnapped by some lecherous old Muggle.