Firstly, I apologize for the lack of Wizardry Park updates. I had an odd discussion with my husband about it, and he pointed out a couple plot holes that I need to go back and fix before I go any further. I am working on it, but can't do so while at work, which means my time is limited. I can, however, write spur of the moment oneshots while at work (love my job!), as my eight hour shift usually only involves about three hours of work, giving a good five hours worth of very little to do. And so, I write.

Hermione Granger laughed merrily. She was having tea with her mother, recounting some stories from their respective school days, while her father was off for a pint with some of his football buddies. The twenty-four year old witch had just completed her Transfiguration Mastery, and was excited to start her new job as a Professor at Hogwarts this coming September. That said, she had a few more weeks before she needed to move her belongings to the school she loved, and was spending some time with her parents.

Harry and Ginny were on their honeymoon at the moment, or she might have been spending time with them as well. Ron she would see all the time from now on, as he had taken over as Quidditch Coach when Rolanda Hooch had decided to retire last year. Granted, she had needed a mastery, while playing for the Cannons for two seasons had qualified Ron to work at Hogwarts.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Wonder who that is..." Jean Granger muttered, getting up to find out. "Be right back, sweetheart."

"I'll be here," Hermione shrugged, smile still on her lips.

"Minerva!" she heard her mum exclaim. "Good gracious, it's good to see you! Come in, come in!"

"Are you certain?" an unfamiliar voice, Scottish by the sounds of it, asked. "I saw another car in the drive...if you already have company, I don't wish to impose."

"Nonsense," Jean huffed. "Just my daughter over for tea. Have you ever met her?"

"No, I do not believe so," the woman called Minerva replied.

"Well come on then," Hermione's mother urged. "In the living room with you. Tea is already on the tray."

A moment later, a tall, ebony haired woman with startlingly green eyes walked into the room, followed by Jean. She seemed to be about forty or so.

"You must be Hermione," the woman said, offering her hand. "Minerva McGonagall."

Hermione took the proffered hand and shook it firmly, curious as to who this woman was. The name Minerva McGonagall rang a bell, but Hermione couldn't place it just then. "Pleased to meet you."

"Minerva owns the company your dad and I get our dental supplies from," Jean explained. "We've been friends for ages. Honestly, I'm surprised you two haven't met before."

"I was away at school after the age of eleven, mum," Hermione reminded her mother.

"Right, and we hadn't met Minerva until, well, it would have been about the same time, I suppose," Jean mused.

"What school did you attend?" Minerva asked politely.

"Well, it's not a very well known school up in Scotland."

Suddenly Minerva blinked, then looked back and forth between Hermione and Jean. "Hogwarts, perchance?" she finally inquired.

Hermione's jaw fell. "How did you know?"

"Having attended there myself..." Minerva replied. "I remember saying the same thing, about it being a little known establishment, to my muggle friends."

Jean gasped. "Well then, are you a witch as well?"

"I am," Minerva admitted.

Jean chuckled. "Well, that certainly explains a lot about you, Minerva. I had no idea."

"You're not supposed to," Minerva smirked. "Though in retrospect, I'm surprised I didn't realize she was your daughter sooner. You usually refer to her as 'Mione', but everyone in the wizarding world knows the name Hermione Granger."

"They do not," Hermione muttered, blushing.

"I'll admit, I have a bit of an inside peek," the dark haired witch confessed. "Filius is a dear friend of mine, and it never fails that when we meet for drinks, the-girl-who-should-have-been-a- Ravenclaw comes up in conversation. He absolutely adores you."

"Filius is still sore about that," Hermione laughed, amused. "I'm looking forward to taking the Transfiguration post this fall."

"Filius is your new boss, right Hermione?" Jean asked, trying to follow the conversation. "The short fellow?"

"He's half Goblin, Jean," Minerva explained. "And current deputy Headmaster at Hogwarts, under Albus Dumbledore, who I might add is highly amused that my best friend is a muggle."

"I bet he is," Hermione agreed.

Inside her head, Hermione was mulling over this friend of her mother's, who was a witch, and also friends with Albus and Filius. She imagined that Minerva must be quite powerful, and older than she looked, to be close to both of them. That her mum's best friend was a witch amused Hermione to no end.

"I heard that Harry Potter and Ginerva Weasley recently married," Minerva commented.

"Yes they did," Hermione confirmed. "Harry and Ginny are on their honeymoon as we speak."

"And what of yourself, and Ronald?" the older witch inquired. "Are the two of you..."

"Not a chance in hell!" Jean exclaimed. "Mione's into girls."

"Mum!" Hermione groaned, wishing her mother wouldn't go about announcing her sexual preferences. It was a good thing her mother wasn't a witch, or the whole wizarding world would be aware of her carefully guarded secret.

"Oh, Minerva won't tell on you," Jean huffed. "So far as Ron goes, he's a good guy, but even if Hermione weren't gay, they would never be suited to each other. He's not intelligent enough."

"Ron is plenty smart," Hermione objected.

"Yes, and so are some breeds of dogs," Jean retorted, causing Minerva to laugh out loud.

"That said," Hermione said tersely, "I think I ought to be going. I've still got lesson plans to go over before start of term, and I have to get my belongings moved to Hogwarts in the next couple days."

"Who's helping you move?" Minerva inquired.

"No one," Hermione huffed. "Mum and dad would, of course, but they can't go to Hogwarts, Harry and Ginny are out of town till mid September, and Ron is busy with summer Quidditch Camp. My friends Luna and Neville are out of town...in the Amazon, I think."

"Is that the extent of your social circle?" the older witch asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't exactly make friends easily," she replied with a shrug.

"Well," Minerva smiled, "I'm not going to let my best friend's daughter move all by herself. Tell me day, time, and where to meet you and I shall give you a hand."

"Really, you don't have to..."

"I'm glad to do it, Hermione," Minerva insisted.

"Minerva you are a darling," Jean added. "You two would get on so well, besides the point. Minerva's social life is about as exciting as yours, 'Mione. Perhaps you guys can compare notes about how to get a date."

"Jean!" Minerva groaned. "I don't need one."

"I beg to differ."

"I'll meet you here, Saturday, at eight in the morning," Hermione said quietly, now decidedly more interested in this Minerva woman than she had been five minutes ago. She was beautiful, Hermione observed. Probably wouldn't be interested in someone younger, not to mention it was unclear if she was into women, and besides, her mum would flip if something happened between the two of them.

"Sounds good," Minerva agreed.

"Off to plan the education of future Transfiguration students," she said, giving her mum a tight hug. "Minerva, good to meet you, and I'll see you here in a few days."

"I'll have tea waiting," Jean offered.

"Coffee," Hermione and Minerva both said in response.

"Coffee in the mornings, mum," Hermione whispered, beginning to wonder just how much she and Minerva might have in common.

Saturday arrived and Minerva was off to an early start. She'd Owled Albus and told him about the connection between one of his star students and her own best friend, Jean Granger. It really was a small world. Albus, of course, was tickled that she had finally met Hermione; a young woman who, to Minerva's never ending irritation, Albus had been suggesting she ask on a date for several years now, despite that before three days ago, Minerva had never even met the soon to be Transfiguration Professor.

She knocked on Jean's familiar front door, and a moment later was greeted with Hermione's Cheshire grin, and an offered cup of coffee. "Morning," Hermione greeted, cradling her own cup of steaming coffee. "If you like cream or sugar, you'll have to get it from the kitchen. I always drink it black."

"As do I," Minerva chuckled. "And thank you."

"Hey, you're helping me move," Hermione smiled. "Coffee is the least I can do. Let's join mum in the den, drink a cuppa, and then be off to my place?"

"Sounds good," Minerva agreed as she closed the door behind her and followed Hermione around the corner.

"God, you two are peas in a pod," Jean laughed when the pair of them walked into the room, both holding coffee mugs to their lips and making a beeline toward an old loveseat which Jean only kept because she knew Hermione would have a meltdown if she got rid of it. Hermione had spent hours upon hours on that loveseat, reading. Minerva, for whatever reason, almost always chose that place to sit as well. "You'll be like the aunt she never knew!"

"I'm not awake enough to comment," Minerva muttered. "Check back with me at the bottom the cup."

Jean proceeded to chatter about this and that, while both Minerva and Hermione silently drank their coffee, very seldom offering input to the more or less one sided conversation. By half past the hour, coffee was gone and both witches were more alert.

"Alright, well you two have a fun time," Jean said. "Oh, and Hermione, dear, if your quarters at Hogwarts are bigger than your current flat is, you can take that blasted sofa with you."

"Really? You don't mind?" Hermione asked, delighted at the notion.

"God no," Jean shook her head. "I hate that thing. I only held on to it because you spend most of your summer breaks glued to it. It is decidedly your sofa."

"Thanks mum!" Hermione grinned, offering her mother another hug.

Minerva watched the scene with interest. The couch was really comfy; she'd figured that out years ago. It was plush, and sunk in at all the right places. It was like curling up on a pile of pillows, with just the right about of support so that you could read for hours and hours and not get a stiff back. Bugger, she's miss that couch if Hermione did take it.

"Do I get visitation rights if it comes with you to Hogwarts?" she asked cheekily.

Hermione laughed. "Sure, why not? You come over, we'll have tea and ginger newts, curl up, and read. That right there is my idea of a good time."

"Sounds wonderful."

"Oh, get out of here, you two," Jean muttered, pushing them towards the door.

Well, it was done. Hermione was moved, favorite couch included, into her new quarters at Hogwarts. In was well into the evening by the time Hermione and Minerva had unpacked everything. The younger witch had told her helper that she could handle the unpacking, but Minerva had insisted on sticking around.

"Ah!" Hermione said, opening one of the last few boxes. "Found it!"

"Found what?" Minerva inquired.

"Rum!" Hermione said proudly. "Want some?"

Minerva shrugged. "Why not?"

"Go wait on the comfy sofa," Hermione ordered. "I'll grab some glasses."

Hermione went into the kitchen area of her new quarters; quarters which, for the record and much to her pleasure, were about three times the size of her old flat. She was refraining from humming, trying desperately not to develop a crush on her mother's best friend. Spending the day with Minerva had been incredible. Hermione had not felt so connected with another human being in her entire life.

Hell, she thought to herself. Maybe I've bypassed crush and fallen straight in love.

Not that any of that mattered. Even though Minerva was here, helping her, and they got along as well as they were, it didn't change the massive age gap between them, nor the question of if Minerva dated women, nor the fact that Minerva was her mum's best friend.

"Here we are," Hermione said, smiling as she plopped next to the older witch on what was now deemed 'their sofa'. She grabbed the rum off the coffee table in front of them, poured two generous glasses, and handed one to Minerva.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Hermione?" Minerva laughed, eyeing the alcohol.

"Maybe," Hermione teased. "Are you more inclined to play truth or dare before or after copious amounts of liquor?"

Minerva took a large sip before answering. "After."

"Truth or dare, Minerva," the younger witch said, grinning ear to ear.

"Truth." she replied calmly.

"What do you look for in a date?" Hermione boldly asked after taking her own first sip of the rum.

The older witch coughed. "Why are you interested in my personal life?"

Hermione shook her head defiantly, grinning. "Answer the question, or take a dare."

"Fine," Minerva groaned. "Intelligence, mostly. Mutual interests. The desire to be active in both the wizarding and muggle communities. I'd prefer her to be a witch versus muggle though…"

"Her, huh?" Hermione said slyly. "I knew it!"

"What, that was just to get me to confess to being gay?" Minerva frowned. "You could have just asked."

"I did ask," the younger witch smiled. "Now, your turn."

"Ah, so that was simply your opening to get me to play this silly game, and eventually you'll be poking into my darkest secrets, and daring me to do unimaginable things?" Minerva inquired teasingly.

"Got me."

"Truth or dare, Hermione?" the older woman asked.

"Truth."

Minerva sat up, and leaned toward Hermione on the sofa. "Would your mum kill me if I kissed you?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. Apparently she wasn't the only one feeling the chemistry between them. "Probably." A gulp of breath later, she pressed on with a whisper. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," Minerva whispered, leaning closer.

"Kiss me," Hermione said, voice barely audible.

And Minerva did.

"Well Hermione," Filius said, raising his glass at the Head table. "How do you feel, starting your fifth year of teaching?"

"Old," she chuckled. "Next time I blink, this and another four years will have passed, and you'll be asking how I like starting my tenth year."

"Do you plan to teach forever like I have?" the Charms Professor asked. "What about a wife, children?"

Hermione frowned. Had that question been posed four years prior, she might have said that a wife and children were a part of her future. That, of course, was before she'd met Minerva; the woman who was undoubtedly the love of her life, and nobody knew it. She and Minerva had been so focused on keeping their romance a secret, partly because of how badly they suspected Hermione's parents would react, and partly because Minerva didn't like anyone but close friends to know she was even gay. "Perhaps," she said noncommittally. She should really have a talk with her older lover about what the future held for them. She loved Minerva more than life itself, but she didn't know how long she could go on with keeping the secret. Her relationship with her parents was on the rocks right now, as it was. She had gotten into a huge fight with them after they kept 'setting her up'. Not interested in dating didn't seem to mean much to her mum.

"Is Minerva coming over this evening?" Albus asked from her other side, twinkle in his eye. Neither Hermione nor Minerva had told Albus they were in a relationship, but both knew he probably assumed so, with how well he knew each of them and how often he caught Minerva leaving the grounds at three in the morning.

"Maybe," Hermione replied. "If she does, will you be joining us for tea?"

Albus nodded. "I may just do that. Do let me know if she does come over."

Minerva had been on her way to visit Hermione at Hogwarts when Jean had rung and asked her to pop by. Having just arrived at the Granger residence, she took a breath and knocked. For ten years, she'd enjoyed an easy and comfortable friendship with Jean Granger and her husband John, but over the last four years, things had become...different. Minerva didn't come around as often, uncomfortable with the notion that the woman she called a dear friend was the mother of her much younger lover. That said, she was always there for a friend in need.

"Minerva, come in," Jean said quietly, opening the door.

"What's wrong?" Minerva asked at once, seeing evidence that Jean had been crying.

"John was killed in a car accident this morning," the other woman said numbly.

"Oh sweet Merlin," Minerva muttered, pulling Jean into a tight hug. "I am so, so sorry."

Jean returned the hug, and then pulled away and looked her directly in the eye. "I wanted to tell you before I tell Hermione," she said. "Because she will need your support."

"Of course, I'll be there for her. For you ask well, Jean," Minerva promised.

"But not in the same way," Jean softly accused.

"Excuse me?" the green eyed witch said to her friend.

"Am I wrong, Minerva?" the other woman asked. "I'll remind you that my daughter did not get her brains from her father."

"How long have you known?" Minerva finally asked with a sigh.

"About a month," came the reply. "Since you two were over for dinner last, and vanished up to her old room for nearly an hour. I came up to check on you about half hour in and...heard you."

Minerva winced. "Right. That."

"I'm fairly sure that wasn't the first time, Minerva," Jean voiced tensely, "So do you want to tell me how long you've been screwing my daughter?"

"That really is between Hermione and I," the elder of the two women stated firmly.

"She is my daughter!" Jean shouted, shoving Minerva hard. "I trusted you!"

"I love her, Jean!" Minerva shouted back. "So much it bloody hurts!"

"How long, Minerva?" Hermione's mother asked softly, rubbing her eyes, not looking at the other woman.

"I was attracted to her from the day we met," Minerva answered tersely, "and when I helped her move to Hogwarts, well, a game a truth or dare and a bottle of rum brought light that the attraction was mutual."

"Four years!" Jean exclaimed.

Ah, back to shouting. Minerva let out an exasperated sigh. "We haven't told anyone, Jean. We weren't just keeping it from you. In the wizarding world, we worried that our relationship would cause some waves we weren't prepared to deal with. So far as keeping it from you and John, we were both worried you would react badly. Obviously we were right to fear."

"I am really bloody pissed," Jean grumbled. "But, Hermione is an adult, and I cannot tell her what she can and cannot do. 'Mione and her father, as I'm sure you know, are... were very close. She will need all the support she can get in the coming weeks. Until she gets through it, I expect you to keep this conversation between you and I. Once we are all in a better state of mind, the three of us will be having a very serious chat."

"Fine," Minerva agreed, grateful that the better part of the lecturing was put off, for now. "Do you wish to tell her, or shall I? I was about to go to Hogwarts to see her when you rang."

"I'm going to ring her now and ask her to join us," Jean stated. "I just wanted to talk to you first."

"As you wish," came a terse reply.

After receiving a phone call from her mum, Hermione had reported to Albus that she was headed out of the castle and headed to her childhood home. When she knocked, she was surprised to see Minerva answer the door.

"Hey!" she said cheerfully.

"Come inside, Hermione," Minerva said quietly. "Your mother has something to tell you."

Her grin faltered. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's your father," she heard her mother say.

Hermione turned to see Jean Granger leaning on the doorframe between the kitchen and living room, looking decidedly upset.

"W-what's happened, mum?" Hermione stuttered, grabbing Minerva for support, suddenly realizing why her lover was even here.

"Car crash, sweetheart," Jean said quietly. "He died this morning."

"No!" Hermione screamed into Minerva's robes, tears beginning to fall.

Her knees began to buckle, and Minerva held her tightly, guiding her toward the living room couch. "Sit, love." the older witch whispered. "I'm here."

"No…" she moaned. He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. "Daddy…"

It had been six weeks since Hermione's father, her friend, had been killed on route to work by a drunk driver. The man driving the other car had also been killed, and in that Minerva took some solace. The idea of having to watch Jean and Hermione suffer through a trial to charge the drunken muggle was terrible to consider. They had enough pain to face as it was.

John had been a good man. A dedicated husband and father, and a dentist well loved in the community. He'd had more friends than Minerva had realized, by the amount of people who came to the funeral. The green eyed witch fought back a new wave of tears when she thought about how lucky she'd been to be counted among them.

She found herself wishing that she and Hermione had been honest about their relationship to John and Jean. Between the two of Hermione's parents, John would have been far more understanding than Jean. Granted, she and Jean had engaged in several conversations on the topic of her relationship with the widow's daughter, and she did seem to be coming around. She still felt betrayed, but Minerva could understand that. At least, she mused, they'd reconciled enough that she and Hermione were expected for dinner tonight, at which point Jean would be confronting her daughter about it.

"Are you ready to go, love?" Minerva asked when Hermione came out of their bedroom. Even though Minerva didn't live at Hogwarts, per say, she was there often enough that Hermione had insisted on calling it 'their room'.

"I think so," Hermione replied. "Any idea what mum wants us over for?"

Minerva sighed. "I do, but your mum expressly forbade me to tell you."

"Oh?" the younger witch said, frowning. "Just please tell me it's not more bad news. I'm not sure I could take it, after…"

"It's nothing like that."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I've been thinking of telling her… about us."

"Really?" Minerva asked, trying not to let her expression give away how amusing her younger lovers idea was.

"I've been thinking a lot about our relationship, Minerva," Hermione said quietly, wrapping her arms around the taller woman's waist. "About what the future looks like for us. I'm tired of hiding this. I want to be able to love you openly...perhaps even start a family."

Well, she hadn't seen that coming. "Hermione…I…" she took a deep breath. "We're going to be late for dinner. We'll discuss this later, alright? I too have been considering the topic."

Hermione smiled brightly, possibly for the first time since getting the news of her father's death. She planted a firm kiss on Minerva's lips, and then pulled her towards the Floo. The best way to get from Hogwarts to Hermione's childhood home was to floo to the Leaky Cauldron and then apparate from there.

Five minutes later, they were being ushered inside by Jean, who wore a convincing smile, though Minerva could tell that she was bracing herself for this conversation. "Hermione, Minerva, welcome," she said. "Let's go sit down in the living room. Dinner won't be ready for a little while yet.

Minerva took a seat on the couch, and as custom, Hermione say beside her, but with a good sized gap between.

"Alright mum, something is obviously going on," Hermione said. "So, what is it?"

Jean took a deep breath, and Minerva found herself holding her own. "I know that you are seeing Minerva."

Hermione eyes went wide, staring at her mother in surprise. A moment later, she blinked, looked at Minerva incredulously, and then elbowed her older lover in the side, hard.

"Ow!" Minerva exclaimed.

"Thanks for the warning!" Hermione snapped.

"I asked her not to tell you," Jean stated.

Hermione huffed. "Okay mum, let's have it. Lecture away."

Jean took her cue. "Four years, Hermione! You couldn't find a minute in the last FOUR YEARS to tell your father and I you were sleeping with our best friend? Honestly, I'm more upset that you didn't tell us than I am that you two are together. Your father..."

She broke off, choking back tears.

"Mum…"

"He suspected," Jean whispered. "Not how long, but he told me about a year and half ago that he thought that if you weren't together already, you would be...that you two were obviously attracted to each other, and that I needed to be prepared for how that changed things. I didn't believe him."

"Did he…approve?" Hermione asked timidly.

Minerva scooted closer to her lover, and Hermione leaned into her embrace.

Jean sighed. "Yes, he did. He slept on the couch for a week after he told me he did."

Minerva raised her eyebrows, silently thanking John, wherever he was, for voicing his support when he could; for advocating for a relationship he couldn't have been sure even existed.

"I wish he'd told me he suspected," Hermione muttered. "I would have told him the truth, and then told you."

"We never intended to hide our relationship from you, should you begin to suspect," Minerva whispered. "We agreed that when the time came, we would not lie outright."

"Hermione," Jean said. "Does Minerva make you happy?"

"Yes, she does," Hermione answered. "Very happy. I hope that's enough of a reason for you to accept our relationship."

"Almost enough," Jean said. Then she turned to the other woman on the couch. "Minerva, when are you going to make an honest woman out of my daughter?"

The sip of tea that Hermione had just taken flew out of her mouth. "MUM!"

"It's alright, love," Minerva said calmly. "Jean, does that mean I have permission to marry Hermione?"

"I suppose it does," Jean sighed.

Minerva had counted on Jean asking that question. Before she was Hermione's lover, she was Jean's friend, and she knew that the muggle woman was just looking out for her daughter's interests. No matter how old Hermione was, she would always be Jean's little girl.

The older witch took a deep breath, and stood briefly, only to kneel on the floor, facing Hermione with a small box containing a beautiful diamond ring. "Hermione Granger, we are both tired of hiding the love we share from our friends and family. We have had four incredible years together, and I hope many more to come. Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Hermione squealed instantly. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Minerva almost fell over when Hermione lunged forward and captured her lips into a searing kiss.

"Hey!" Jean's voice rang out. "Get a room!"

Hermione pulled back, grinning ear to ear. "Sorry mum."

"It's fine," Jean said, shaking her head with an amused look on her face.

"Mum?"

"Yes, 'Mione?"

"I'm engaged!"

"I noticed," Jean replied with a smirk. "I must admit, that was utterly romantic, Minerva. Well played. But how did you know I was going to ask about your plans for the future?"

"I just know you that well, my friend," Minerva replied.

"Oh?"

"For example, the answer to the question bouncing in your head right now is: We haven't discussed it, and we'll get back to you on that." Minerva stated.

Jean's jaw dropped. "How?"

"What was the question?" Hermione asked, looking perplexed.

Minerva leaned over and whispered into Hermione's ear. "She wants to know when she's getting a grandchild."

Hermione blushed furiously. "Right. We need to talk about that I guess."

More to come, and soon! Please review!