When Nothing Leads To Something & Everything

"Do you feel anything for me?" Hermione questioned, finally ending the quiescence that had taken over for a while already. Minerva and she were sitting up next to one another in the elder witch's bed, each one focusing at another point in the distance, while not really eying it at all. Their gazes were directed right ahead, eyes glazed. Anyone walking in on them like that would have said the scene to look like one of a couple after a particularly horrific row… much like married couples are often described to act in novels. That realization lead Hermione to finally break the seemingly everlasting, painful silence. She didn't turn her head aside upon asking.

Minerva shakily exhaled and raised one hand to rub her forehead very slowly, as if hoping to find the reply easier that way. Professor McGonagall lead her to choose for a diplomatic one. "Hermione…" she began. "Hermione, even if I had, I couldn't give in to whatever I felt. You're a pupil of mine. I'm your headmistress, and I should be…" She finally turned her head aside, finding herself looking into teary hazel eyes, belonging to the woman that she couldn't really feel anything for, but did…

"Do you?" She questioned, the tone of her voice unsteady and begging for a reply… if her teary hazel eyes didn't already. "Do you? I'll never mention mine again if you tell me not. I only... Please. Minerva. I have to know."

Minerva sighed. "Hermione…" she began once again, then discontinued. That was enough for the far younger girl; more than she could bear as a matter of fact. She threw aside the sheets and slid to the edge of the bed, getting upright and all but running over in the direction of the bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. "I do," Minerva said only right loud enough for them both to hear, as shaky fingers took their hold of the door knob. Hermione stilled, a sob escaping her. She didn't dare turn her gaze toward the elder witch again, afraid to read a lie in her eyes, even though she never would have suspected Minerva to say something she didn't mean until then – and not even then if more rational mind and less emotion had been involved at that particular point in time. She quietly leaned her forehead against the doorframe, waiting for more to come, but it didn't. She could hear Minerva audibly swallow and the sheets momentarily rustle, followed by the sound of the bed squeaking. It took basically all of Hermione Granger's willpower not to turn and look when the sound of Minerva wincing was being added to the mix.

"I'm going to get a shower," Minerva announced. "Please, don't go."

Hermione could barely hear the sound of Minerva muttering something in the likes of 'Merlin, do I need one.' followed by the door between the bedroom and bathroom shutting. She remained like that a bit longer, then turned toward the lonely bedroom and sat upon the edge of the bed, facing the door to the bathroom and unconsciously swallowing, knowing that right at that moment in time, Minerva must be taking off her attires – possibly very uneasily due to her injury of last night, too. And indeed, soon enough she could hear the water of Minerva's shower running. It didn't take much longer until she could hear something falling down, like a piece of soap, followed by a rather loud wince of Minerva and muttered cursing – something she never would have anticipated of the Headmistress.

Hermione sucked her quivering bottom lip under her teeth, biting it, but it merely made the moment until she veered up again and reached for the door to the bathroom last longer – it didn't counter it at all. Hermione bit harder upon her lower lip, as she quietly turned the door knob, and moved to open the passage that would lead her to Minerva… naked Minerva. Turning her gaze down upon finding she stepped upon something unusually soft while making her way in, she found Minerva's attires carelessly thrown to the floor. She quietly slid her eyes upward again, to the figure that was blurred by the matted shower walls. Minerva didn't even realize Hermione had come into the bathroom and was now eyeing her.

In there, Minerva's winces were more audible, and Hermione fully realized in how much pain the headmistress must be. It must be hard showering while unable to use one's right hand and being right handed as well. Slowly inhaling then deeply exhaling Hermione began peeling off her own attires, still unnoticed by the elder witch in the shower due to the spray of water under which she stood.

The chill of morning wind passing by as Hermione slowly walked into the shower as well finally made her turn and look into resolute hazel. No word left either, as Hermione carefully reached for the soap and then tilted her head, waiting for some kind of reassurance. Minerva swallowed, slowly turning until she herself faced the wall so Hermione could begin washing her back. She didn't really believe she could face the younger woman like this either. The thought of Hermione Granger sharing her shower with her, being naked right there with her…

Hermione too had difficulties focusing on doing nothing more but washing Minerva as she slowly slid the bar of mildly lavender scented soap across the milky white skin of her back. No obvious lines of her bra appeared to have left their mark upon her back, like often was the case after wearing it for mere hours with many a woman. Minerva's back was just like she recalled. It wasn't entirely scar-free, but nothing less than perfect nevertheless – at least to her. The occasional glances Hermione had had of the elder woman's bosom hadn't hinted it to be any different, and she didn't doubt any other part of her to be.