Disclaimer: Surprisingly, I don't own Harry Potter, Minerva, Albus or any of the other characters that appear in this story. I just own the plot.
A/N: Another one I wrote a very long time ago, but only just got around to typing up, quite a cute idea but I'm not sure about the result. There is manipulation of a line from Notting Hill in here, which I thought was just so cute, so tell me if it works or not.
This is posted in celebration of my finishing all of my GCSE exams, YEY!! It's an amazing feeling. I'M FREE!!
By the way, apologies to anyone whose name is Minnie, I do like the name, honestly, but I thought perhaps Minerva wouldn't. Please, have a read and let me know what you think, even if you don't like it you can still review, just as long as you tell me why ok? Please R&R I'm begging here!
Summary: A prank that results in a very angry Professor McGonagall; but perhaps not angry for long?
An MMAD Story
Chapter One: The Prank
Professor Minerva McGonagall frowned again as a group third year girls pointed and giggled as they passed her, whispering like conspirators in a huge secret. Such juvenile behaviour she expected from first years, not third years. She shot them a very sharp look and watched them scuttle off down the corridor towards her destination, the Great Hall. That stupid behaviour seemed to be infectious today, it kept happening increasingly this morning and she had no idea as to what could be causing it, but she did know this giggling was beginning to irritate her.
She slipped past a cloud of seventh-year boys on her way down the Entrance Hall stairs, and they all turned their heads to look at her, a merry smile on their faces, before their eyes saw her and their expressions dropped, then surprise registered on every face very quickly before turning away, raising their eyebrows at each other. How odd, even the seventh years were acting strangely today. The reaction only took a few seconds, but it was almost as if they were expecting someone else as they turned. Who else would it be?
Shaking her head very slightly and resolving to question someone about it later, she continued down to the Great Hall, still receiving odd looks and giggles, much to her increasing annoyance. Taking her mind away from it, her thoughts turned to lunch and Albus. She was looking forward to seeing him as she had been up early and had missed him at breakfast. She had a few points she needed to discuss with him about administration, and she also wanted to check he was eating properly (he had been comsuming far too many of those sherbet lemons of late) but as she strode into the Great Hall, she almost forgot him.
The minute she stepped inside, heads began to turn to her and then to their neighbours and back again, the level of chatter doubling as if they were gossiping about her! She paused in the doorway, surveying the Hall with suspicion. The mere thought of them discussing her made her want to yank someone out of their seat roughly, preferably a Slytherin, and question them fiercely as to the cause, but as her eyes swept up the length of the Hall, they found Albus, who had looked up amiably upon hearing a rise in chatter, and was smiling at her. She smiled back, and remembered she must speak with him.
Shaking aside how uncomfortable she was, and standing a little taller, she strode quickly up to the staff table and took her usual seat next to the Headmaster, who with a wave of his hand pulled back her chair for her and slid it under her as she sat down, while she hoped her blushing cheeks weren't as noticeable as she felt them to be. Choosing not to notice the rise in noise again as she took her seat, she turned her head to find Albus giving her a funny look too.
"What?" She asked snappishly before she could stop herself from using the sharp tone, showing how frustrated she was. He recoiled slightly, as if she'd threatened to bite him, but he replied in a small, calm tone that helped her settled down a little, as she tried to pointedly ignore the staring that was being directed at the pair of them from the vast majority of students as well as pay attention to what Albus was trying to tell her. She looked at him reservedly, and he replied,
"Charming perfume my dear." She frowned in confusion and leant back defensively, setting down the cutlery she had barely picked up with a sharp clinging sound, which (she hoped) had not damaged the plate. It was one she had asked the house elves to use, one she had tried to buy for herself but Albus had insisted on paying the money back. It was cream, with a green foliage-covered edge, which reminded her of her home in the Highlands.
"What's wrong with it?" She snapped, piercing him with a clear eye, her mind focussing on the one thing about herself she had changed since yesterday. Of course, that had be it, but it smelt normal to her. Oh, she was going to get to the bottom of this if she had to summon all of her intimidation power and tower over the Headmaster like a first year! He tried to shrug, eyeing the flame of anger in her eyes not a little apprehensively, not wanting to tangle with her temper so early in the day, but she gave him such a glare he had to answer, in an amused tone (though she could hardly expect anything else),
"Well, Minerva, it does rather smell like a certain muggle sweet I'm fond of." Minerva frowned and subtly waved a wrist in front of her nose by putting her hand up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. It smelt like lavender to her. Minerva was very confused. Albus wouldn't lie to her but if she did smell like those damn sweets, it was no wonder the students had been giving her odd looks all day. Albus smelt of them as well! Now she knew her pink cheeks must be painfully obvious to everyone in the Hall, and she looked down, fiddling with her napkin to disguise her expression. It wouldn't do to let gossip be collaborated by her reactions, however innocent.
It made sense now, the giggling and all, the whole school practically thought she and Albus were involved! A series of rather offensive language made its way through her mind, followed suddenly by a jolt of remembrance and she stiffened even more as she remembered who had given her this perfume. Who else would it have been? Rolanda Hooch! The one woman who had the gall to even think of pulling off a stunt like this. Well, this time, she was going to pay.
The flying instructor had given the damn stuff to her for her birthday in October. Damn that woman! She was going to hex her from here to oblivion! Minerva stiffly turned her head to look along the staff table, controlling her anger by keeping her breathing even, her lips going so thin they seemed to cease to be there at all. Albus, seeing the fury in her eyes, went back to his lunch, trying desperately to keep the chuckle in his throat. He knew of only one person who could infuriate Minerva this badly, and she was sitting just along the table. He dared not try and warn her, Minerva would only come after him as well but she would know Minerva was after blood anyway after this newest prank, for he had guessed that's what it had been.
Rolanda had indeed sensed Minerva's eye on her and tried not to completely blow her cover while catching a few of her student's eyes, who were giving her warning glances. They had all noticed Minerva and the direction of her fiery gaze (they tended to keep a sharp lookout for the signs, so they could be ready to take to their heels) and, by the merry twinkles in their eyes and grins on their faces, two or three had guessed who had been behind the change of Minerva's scent. Rolanda heard Minerva's chair being pushed back and knew her colleague was sweeping along the table with a presence that would rival Severus Snape's, her robes billowing around her in a very ominous fashion. Even the sound of them made shivers run up Rolanda's back. She had always had the power to terrify those close to her, even when she had been much younger than now.
Minerva's eyes narrowed as she drew closer and saw the ill-disguised grin on Rolanda's face. She had never been any good at control or cultivating an expression of composure, something Minerva excelled at. She stopped by her friend and leant down, thankful her robes had a tight collar, so she could say very quietly, more of a hiss than actual words, but more restrained than perhaps she would have been had they not been in the middle of the Great Hall, but say, in her rooms where the other professor would not have survived more than a mere few seconds,
"Rolanda." The flying instructor looked up; the mischievous glint in her yellow eye telling Minerva this would not be a "fun" conversation. Well, a conversation with Rolanda when she had that glint in her eye was never fun. If her chest had not been withholding her fury by keeping very tight, she would have sighed. Rolanda was fighting to keep her face straight as she looked up with what she hoped was a blank expression, when in fact, Minerva knew she was trying not to laugh, which needless to say did not help matters.
"Yes Minerva?" She asked, amusement creeping into her tone as well as her eyes, against her will. It was times like this she wished she had taken Minerva up on the offer of teaching her Occlumency, then the Transfiguration professor might not see through her so easily, and she might have had some chance of survival. Minerva narrowed her eyes at her until they were reduced to slits of loathing and asked through tightly gritted teeth,
"Do you remember the perfume you gave me a few months ago that you swore smelt like lavender?" She always avoided speaking of her birthday if she could because, although he was a brilliant wizard, Albus did have an appalling memory for birthdays, even hers, a fact which she used to her advantage every October, when she bribed, threatened and even in some cases, begged all of the staff not to mention it to him, for it would often prove embarrassing in every extreme if he did know of it. Though Severus always seemed to enjoy it, sour faced git that he was. Rolanda nodded and replied in a much less quiet tone, to hopefully distract Minerva from her current intention of hexing her (or so it looked like),
"Yes, the one I gave you for your birthday which you seem to be wearing right now, well done Minnie!" Even the hated nickname that only Rolanda had the nerve to call her, on the end of her little statement only served to fuel the fire, not distract her as Hooch had been hoping. It always made Minerva feel five years old again, a feeling she wasn't used to or comfortable with. At the moment, dragging Rolanda out to hang her upside down from the Quidditch polls was looking a very appealing option. Perhaps even letting Filch hang her in the dungeons for a few days, which would be very amusing…
"There wasn't, by any chance, a charm of some sort on it, was there?" Minerva asked, while giving Rolanda a pleading glare, hoping she was going to tell her there wasn't and Albus had simply been making a joke, however unlikely. The unlikely option being her not putting a charm on it, not Albus making a joke. Sadly, her friend refused to lie to her if she already knew the truth. Where was the point in that? Besides, how could Minerva confess her love for Albus if she hadn't admitted it to herself yet? This was all part of a plan to help her realise, a very important plan which she had been working on for months, she wasn't about to give up now, no matter how much Minerva glared at her.
"Yes I'm afraid there was, have you found out what it is, Minnie dear?" Rolanda asked her, raising an eyebrow. Again, that name made her snort with disgust and defiance, why did Rolanda have to use it? It was a twee, tartan-covered baby's name, perhaps one she could have used when she was much younger, but she had never had much time for nicknames then either. Minerva breathed deeply, hoping to exhale the tightness in her chest but failing, before looking daggers at her friend. It was odd that Rolanda had been so subtle this time; now she thought about it, it seemed obvious: she had to have had an accomplice. Filius? He was after all, the Charms teacher, and an obvious choice, too obvious, and he was too careful and loyal to make any of his friends (Minerva was lucky she was counted among them) suffer through the humiliation she had been through today, and it was only midday!
"I believe I have. Someone, you or a helper, has charmed my perfume so I can only smell lavender, but everyone else thinks it smells like those damn sweets Albus is so fond of." There was no point in arguing, she already knew almost everything, and Rolanda, if nothing else, knew when she had been caught. In her school days, that would have meant hiding under the nearest tapestry until the shouting had decreased in volume, but this was hardly an option at the moment. No, she would just have to play along and hope Minerva didn't find out who had helped her. She had been very useful for this mission, and Rolanda hoped to ask her for her help again, should she need to, but she wouldn't be able to if Minerva got her claws in her.
"Well Minerva, when I happened to mention to a certain person that I knew a way to get you to wear this perfume, she was only too happy to help." Rolanda told her teasingly; hoping her glance at the students was not obvious. She would have to warn her, before Minerva was released on the students preferably. There was no knowing what some of them would reveal upon being threatened or worse, having house points taken away and undoubtedly her friends would know what she had been up to.
Minerva noticed the flick of her, well, could she call her a friend's eyes and clenched her jaw as she turned her head slightly to look at the crowd in front of the staff table. Many were finished and starting to gather their friends for the next lesson but one face in particular caught her eye, one she knew very well indeed; a little, slightly nervous face on the Gryffindor table that was watching her and Madame Hooch with a keen, careful eye. Minerva's mouth twitched, the sure sign she was itching to smile, and Rolanda noticed, with a tiny hint of relief. Perhaps she was nearing the edge of the woods?
"See something funny Minnie?" She asked curiously, calmly continuing with her lunch, then a thought hit her and she looked up with the first truly terrified look Minerva thought she had seen on her face in years. Minerva had to allow a bit of predatory pride into her eyes as she realised she had been right. It was her that had helped Rolanda, and now the flying instructor had also connected the thoughts in Minerva's mind, though her expression had also slid into carefully passive again.
"No, but the irony of the situation did not escape me. She indeed would have been a perfect helper, if not for the fact you have not trained her in keeping her cool. But then, you never were very good at that either, were you Rolanda? She has been watching us like a hawk for the past few minutes." Minerva's tone was smugly satisfied, and she leant back from Rolanda just in time to see her send a glance at the student and nod subtly. The girl stood immediately, gathered her things together and strode along the table in search of Ron and Harry, desperate to escape her professor's wrath as long as possible. Minerva's mouth twitched again and she started to make her way after her student, after hissing to Rolanda
"This isn't finished." She swept along the Great Hall after her student, mouth set in a stern line against the giggles and pointing that followed her along its length which, now she knew the cause of, no longer irritated her as much. However, that did not mean Madame Hooch was not going to pay and her expression said as much. The girl saw her out of the corner of her eye and walked faster, abandoning the search of her friends and heading for the doors, still vainly hoping to get away, for a while at least.
"Miss Granger!" Minerva called out; wincing slightly at the touch of sharpness Hermione was not used to from her in her tone, simply because she was irritated by the stares rather than being annoyed at her student. In fact, she found the whole thing rather funny, but that wasn't the point. Hermione paused by the doors, with apprehension evident in her stance as she looked back at her professor striding towards her. Minerva approached her and signalled with a silent flick of her hand that she should follow her before sweeping up the marble stairs to an empty classroom. As Hermione entered, she waved the door closed and turned to her.
"Hermione, do you have something you wish to tell me?" Professor McGonagall asked, lowering her head to look at her student over her glasses as she stood about two paces in front of her, looking even more nervous now they were alone and she was without distraction, the sole focus of her professor's attention. It was incredible how much effect that that glare had had on so many people, but Hermione bore it better than Cornelius had when he had come under it. Mind you, even at her young age, Hermione was worth twice the Minister of Magic.
"I don't wish to tell you but I feel I ought to Professor, though I have the feeling you know what I'm about to say." Hermione answered truthfully, holding some of her books, one Minerva recognised as her Transfiguration textbook, close to her chest in a way that reminded Minerva greatly of herself at that age. How often had she had this conversation with Albus when she had been younger? Well, maybe not this precise conversation, but many like it. Minerva nodded. Hermione watched her for a moment, and then, emboldened by the merry twinkle in the other's woman's eyes, though hidden to the untrained eye, she began.
"Madame Hooch approached me a few months ago and told me there was a chance for her to finally form a relationship between you and Professor Dumbledore, and asked me to perform quite a basic charm to help. I would've done a lot more if it meant you and the Headmaster would finally come to your senses. Do you have any idea how long your students have been waiting for this to happen? It's not some ridiculous notion we dreamed up, every one of your students knows how you feel about him. I think the only person who doesn't know is he!
I'm awfully sorry Professor for causing you so much embarrassment, I would be absolutely mortified as well, but really if you had realised what was under your nose to begin with, then there would have been no need." Hermione declared in a matter-of-fact tone that she had to strive for but seemed to be doing the trick. "Give me detention if you wish," she continued defiantly, "I'll serve them and gladly, but perhaps you'd better keep your evenings free? You never know when he might break his silence." Hermione grinned, surprised herself at how cheeky she had been and hugging the books a little tighter to her chest, waiting for the explosive wave of anger she was sure was to come, but it never did.
The reaction she got was quite the opposite of what she expected. Minerva threw back her head and laughed! She laughed until tears appeared in her eyes and her stomach ached. If someone had overheard her they would have wondered who it was, for she didn't sound like herself at all. Hermione, wondering if she was feeling alright or whether she'd given herself over to hysterics, it was so out of character for the professor to laugh at all, stepped closer and asked tentatively,
"Professor? Are you alright?" Minerva looked down at her, almost with a mothering expression and nodded, stifling her laughter with some difficulty. It wouldn't do for the other students to see her like that. It was just that the whole thing had hit her properly at that moment and seemed so ridiculous there was very little she could do but laugh. There was certainly no reason to cry, and it was just the sort of thing she would have done in her own student days. In fact, there had been rather an amusing incident involving a candle-lit dinner and the Astronomy teacher and the Arithmancy teacher of her time, although she had not found it funny the next few weeks when the entire student body had had to endure finding them both constantly, well, "snogging" in odd quiet corners… Shaking herself from her memories, Minerva answered her student.
"Hermione, what on earth put the idea of the Headmaster and I into your head?" Minerva asked incredulously. Hermione frowned, thinking back for a specific incident that the both remembered to show the professor what she meant. It was difficult, there were little things that of course, McGonagall would find an excuse for or explain away, like him walking her to breakfast every morning or him taking her arm when they walked together, but they would not do. No, it had to be something really obvious, something that couldn't be explained by the phrase "just good friends".
"The first incident that comes to mind is the Yule Ball, when you danced together. Honestly Professor, I've never seen "just friends" dance like you did with Dumbledore, or if I have, they were going to become more than good friends. But I don't think that was the first time, nor will it be the last that speculation was raised." Her tone was very sincere, but Minerva just raised a humouring eyebrow at her, trying to hide the truth from her eyes, because, as always, Miss Granger had hit the nail right on the head. She did have feelings for Albus, and had done for a long time, though it wasn't something she admitted to, even often to herself.
On the other hand, she had decided some time ago that a relationship between them was a bad idea, as he was the Headmaster of a world-renown school and one of the world's most well known faces, whereas her mother sometimes had trouble remembering her name. Hermione though, also knew that part of the reason she was reticent to reveal her feelings was that she was desperately afraid of losing him, and their friendship and if she actually spoke of her love and he refused it or something happened to him, then she would never be able to live with herself.
"Professor," Hermione persisted, "I know these rumours are not just confined to our time, I asked Sirius about it once and he said that the rumour mill had often been riddled with both of your names even before he'd been there." That elicited a small smile from Minerva but Hermione only paused a second to smile back before continuing, "I just think perhaps both students and professors alike were sc- I mean apprehensive about mentioning it to you. It isn't exactly something that can be brought up easily. I should know." Hermione finished smoothly, with a slight blush at which Minerva looked at her briefly, before looking away and frowning. Her expression became stern, one that Harry and Ron would have recognised, had they been there, from their first day of second year, and as one Hermione often wore when she disapproved of something.
"Miss Granger, I thank you for your concern, but what happens in my private life shall remain just that: Private. Now, unless there is something else-" Minerva began to dismiss her, a little more coldly than normal to show this was not behaviour she would encourage in her students, and also hoping that if she got away now the girl would not notice how rigid her expression had become in order to keep her feelings in check, but Hermione leapt in before she could finish,
"There is. I have a memory to show you, if I may." Hermione withdrew a small glass phial out of her robes, the contents of which Minerva instantly recognised as a silvery, shiny memory, having seen them when she was with Albus often enough, and she frowned. Hermione should not have one of those in a phial, like a potion or medicine. And how had she come by one in the first place, and why did she want to show it to her? Opening her mouth, Minerva voiced her first question.
"Hermione, where did you-" Minerva tried to ask, but Hermione was obviously eager not to get into any more trouble as she quickly explained just how she had come by a memory, when she was not supposed to have been taught how to extract them yet.
"Professor Dumbledore taught Harry how to extract memories a while ago and Harry then extracted this one for me to show you." Minerva eyed it doubtfully, making a mental note to reprimand Albus about teaching Harry things too dangerous for him to manage and before the curriculum suggested he should have anything to do with them. She had spoken to him about it before, the words "reckless" and "not ready" featuring a few times, but as always Albus had rebuffed her, saying Harry was much more mature than she gave him credit for.
"Not another one of Madame Hooch's ideas?" Minerva questioned sternly, staring her student straight in the eye and making sure she told the truth. Hermione shook her head quickly and reverently, hoping the slight shaking in her hand would go unnoticed. Minerva held out her hand and when Hermione handed the memory to her, she examined it and, upon finding it to seem real, she handed it back with a searching look at her student.
"I hope you will take the time to look at it." Hermione finished, looking pleadingly up at her professor with all the desperation and "puppy dog eyes" she could muster. Minerva tried to say no, she knew Hermione's intention towards her and her relationship with Albus and didn't like it, but the words died in her throat as she looked down at her student. There was such a shine of hope in her eyes, an open look in her face that Minerva found herself agreeing before she could stop herself.
"Very well, I will look at it with you." Minerva answered, knowing that Hermione would want to give it back to Harry as soon as possible and not have it taken off of her like a confiscated Fanged Frisbee and plus, she didn't really want to dive head first into a memory she knew nothing about. If it was a memory at all, even. Hermione's whole countenance lit up as she spoke, and she sighed contentedly, happy that she would not have to defer to Madame Hooch again, as she had been planning if Minerva had refused her.
"Thank you Professor! Would you like to see it now or later? Do you have your own Pensieve? Can we use it? Would it be-" Hermione was cut off from her enthusiastic strain of questioning by Minerva holding up a hand elegantly, amusement once again lighting her eyes, and Hermione fell silent instantly, the urge to talk dieing in her throat. What did it matter now anyway, under what circumstances they saw it, as long as she did see it! Now Hermione had achieved her aim, she was just left to wonder how long she had to be excitedly nervous.
"I will view it this evening, after dinner if that suits you." After Hermione nodded, Minerva paused a moment to think, then continued, "Meet me in my office after you've finished eating, I will have everything prepared." Hermione swallowed any questions she had left and nodded respectfully, falling back into her old obedience after her short venture into recklessness. Minerva nodded back and turned slightly away, indicating this interview was over and beginning to search for something in her pockets.
"Thank you Professor." Hermione replied turning and walking to the door before halting, and turning back round again, her hand on the handle. "Oh, and Professor?" She added, looking back at McGonagall. Minerva looked up from where she had been consulting her watch and smiled welcomingly, thinking this would be about classes or something more school related. Something she felt safe talking about again, all this talk of feelings was not good for her.
"When do you want me to do the detention?" Hermione asked looking into her mentor's eyes with a fearless expression she might have been able to pull off had it not been for her eyes showing quite clearly she was afraid, well nervous. Touched that Hermione was still willing to serve her punishment even though it had not really been her fault (Minerva knew her student would not have agreed straight away, not without goading on Rolanda's part, and perhaps even from Harry and Ron), Minerva regarded the girl she'd come to see as a daughter and tipped her head to one side, holding back a smile so well there was only the tell-tale twitch that told Hermione she was off the hook.
"As it was Madame Hooch who encouraged you, I think it should be her duty to pay for the crime, don't you think? After all, you were only doing what you were told to do." Minerva asked, sternly keeping the amusement out of her voice though she wasn't quite as successful in keeping it from her eyes. Hermione grinned, looked as if she was about to leave, then her expression changed to troubled and she hesitated. Minerva smiled again almost sadly, wondering what else could be bothering the young girl, and nodded.
"What is it my dear?" Her tone was tender, encouraging, one she would never have imagined using a few minutes ago but it seemed to work as Hermione only thought a minute about how to phrase what ever it was she wanted to ask, obviously something she considered a sensitive topic (Minerva sincerely hoped it wasn't to do with Albus again) before venturing tentatively, her eyes not quite meeting Minerva's,
"You would do the same thing for everyone else wouldn't you? Let them off?" Minerva watched her student for a few moments, then went over and placed her hands lightly on her shoulders and ducked her head slightly to catch Hermione's lowered eyes, as if in shame. She should not be ashamed, not ever. Minerva could see she would have to explain her answer when she gave it, for Hermione would not see it the way she did and nor would she have done at her age.
"No Hermione, I wouldn't." The young girl opened her mouth to object as her countenance darkened as she had guessed it would, but Minerva cut her off soothingly. "But I find that to treat each student as fairly as possible, one must treat each case with an even knowledge of their past and character and judge accordingly." Hermione looked up at her and her face was forlorn, something Minerva didn't quite understand so she added, "I trust you Hermione, I don't think you would betray that trust without coercion or without knowing you were right to do so." Hermione flushed a little at the compliment but couldn't help the bitter edge to her voice as she asked meekly,
"So if it was Harry or Ron, you would give them detention because they mess about?" Minerva looked down at her with a shake of her head and her eyes spoke of a deep empathy with how Hermione was feeling, so the explanation that Hermione was looking for rolled easily off her tongue for she herself had once been in this situation and had felt just as uncomfortable, and had had similar words said to her, but then Minerva had not really had friends to compare with herself.
"No Hermione, I would give them detention because they would have done it for quite different reasons and they would definitely not have owned up to it so easily, though I would be able to tell at a glance if they had." Minerva told her in a conspirator-like tone, slipping in a wink at the end. Hermione hid her amazement. That was the second time today she'd done something completely out of character. Maybe the new perfume was making her giddy; she wouldn't have put it past Madame Hooch to put something slightly unorthodox in it, though she did not suggest this to her professor. Hermione just nodded, reassured, and opened the door to slip out into the corridor but this time, Minerva called her back.
"Well done for asking." Minerva smiled warmly at her. "And before you go, could you remove the charm please?" Hermione actually laughed herself, took out her wand, flicked it at Minerva then slid it back in her robes as she stepped out into the corridor and was swept away in the throng of students coming up from breakfast. Minerva smiled again, a little wider this time now no one was watching, and turned away for the fireplace, checking her wrists again.
Now, they smelled like sherbet lemons. Well, as it seemed the whole school had heard by now anyway, she couldn't see the harm in continuing to wear it. It really was rather a pleasant smell, to her anyway. It had a bite to it, while at the same time was smoothed over by the sugary coating. Minerva let a thoughtful smile quirk her mouth as she inhaled the scent again and her mind immediately conjured a picture of Albus. It was like she was carrying a small bit of him around with her, and that was a comforting thought, one she intended to take full advantage of while she could.
How clever of Hermione to use that particular charm, she would never have found out anything was wrong with it if Albus hadn't told her. She pointed her wand at the fire and a temporary blaze sprang up. Taking a pouch from her pocket, she threw some powder into the fire, wondering what memory Miss Granger was so eager to show her. Why, of all people, would she want to show it to her? Minerva puzzled as she stepped into the fire and reappeared inside her rooms. She gathered up the graded papers for this lesson and swept out into her classroom. Her last thought on the subject was "I hope she knows what she's doing."