Fic: From Britannia, With Love (Minerva/Hermione, R)

[starduchess.livejournal.com]

Title: From Britannia, With Love
Author: starduchess
Prompt Number: #201 submitted by kellychambliss
Kink Showcased: erotographomania: arousal from writing romantic or erotic letters or poems
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Minerva/Hermione
Summary: While cleaning out the Transfiguration classroom, Hermione stumbles across a whole series of letters addressed to her younger self.
Warnings/Content Notes: thoughts of a chan nature (but no actual chan)
Word Count: 2540
Author's Notes: Interesting prompt, Kelly. I hope you like what I've done with it. Britannia is the ancient term for Roman Britain as well as the female version of the island, so I thought that was perfect for Minerva.


Hermione was rummaging through old piles of parchment, years and years of school records and student essays. The Transfiguration classroom was hers now, and she had one month to arrange it to her satisfaction before school started. Being an overachiever, she already had half her lesson plans made. Now she was methodically going through old files, looking for possible assignments, question and answer variations, and grading consistency.

Buried deep in some first-year essays, she found a page with Minerva’s distinctive handwriting on it. It wasn’t notes or parts of a lesson or article. It was a letter, addressed to herself, with just the first line visible. As she stared at it, she felt a small pull at her magic, and then the rest of the text appeared below.


Hermione Granger,

Well, aren’t you a spitball of fire and knowledge? You speak up well in class, and there’s no doubt in my mind why you were selected by the Sorting Hat for my House. Your knowledge and quick thinking is an asset to you and one I am greatly relieved to see in such a fine young woman. Your smile is so sweet, and you have the cutest dimples. I appreciate your loyalty to your new friends, and it warms my spirit to see how well you are fitting in as a Muggleborn. You have taken to the Wizarding World like a pegasus to the air, and you make me so proud. Keep it up.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall


Well, that was interesting. It seemed like a perfectly normal missive to Hermione, and she was surprised Minerva had never sent it to her. Clearly, it was spelled to her magical signature so that only she could read it. She had no idea why such a thing would be held back. Oh, well, it was nice to have found it now.

Later that day, Hermione found a second letter amongst the second-year reports.


Dear Ms. Granger,

I do not know what you have gotten yourself into, but running off on adventures and becoming petrified as a result has disappointed me. I thought you had more sense. I thought it was you keeping Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley in line, not you being the first one to charge in blindly. I admire your courage, but getting caught is far beneath your capabilities.

You have me frightened and I fear for your life. Professor Sprout has assured me that the mandrakes will be ready to harvest soon, and Professor Snape has agreed to make the counter potion. I hope we get to the bottom of this mess soon. In the meantime, I stare at you in the infirmary, your stone skin as smooth as marble. I run my hand over your hair …

Please be well.

Minerva McGonagall


Hermione snorted a bit at that; Minerva had seemed a bit clueless from time to time. It’s not like she wanted to go traipsing after danger all the time, just that it followed them around during their school days. She couldn’t abandon Harry and she wanted to be of help. If only they had listened to her sooner, she mightn’t have become petrified. Being an adult now gave her a bit more perspective and understanding of her teachers’ motivations and actions, as well as how dumb most students could be. She’d served her apprenticeship last year, after all, and had seen that first hand, but she had always thought of herself as smarter than most. Anyway, it was nice to see that Minerva cared about her, even back then.

She went on with her sorting and filing. She was not surprised to find a third letter tucked behind one of her third-year essays. This was starting to be a routine.


Dear Hermione Granger,

I am extremely pleased by your progress and dedication to your studies. I knew I could count on you to use the time turner effectively and responsibly and not to let on to other students that you are using it. The Ministry took my oath with some misgivings, but I have continued to vouchsafe for you in regards to your demeanour and deportment. You are becoming a young woman whom I’m proud to be mentoring. Keep up the diligent work.

Respectfully,

Minerva McGonagall


These were all very nice letters. She wondered why Minerva had kept them from being sent all these years. Maybe it would have shown favouritism? But she could also have made it out to be a duty of the Head of House to encourage gifted students. Hermione didn’t know.

And then she came across the fourth one, and as she read, she became apprehensive.


Dear Hermione,

You looked radiant and splendid at the Yule Ball tonight. The periwinkle colour compliments your colouring, and I was impressed with how you subdued your hair. My own tends to be stringy, and the tight bun I keep it in both controls it and gives it a soft wave once it’s let down. I wish to show you this trick, for I long to see soft waves frame your face nicely.

Your deportment was admirable during the dance. I’m glad you made friends across school borders, although I am concerned about the attention young Mr. Krum has been paying you. Be careful as you come into contact with your male peers. They can be quite insistent when it comes to sexual matters, and you should not have to endure such peer pressure. If they start anything, you can just walk away, dignity intact.

I wish I could take you under my wing, so to speak, and teach you myself the ways of the world. A young girl should have an older woman’s guidance as she learns of her own sexuality. Currently, your innocence is sweet and intoxicating, and I find myself flushed while thinking about you, but soon -- and, in fact, it is already happening -- you will mature, your looks becoming round and pleasing, your self-awareness becoming focused and intense. I look forward to watching you grow.

Best Wishes,

Minerva


Hermione blinked in astonishment. Had Minerva been attracted to her, or was she simply watching over one of her charges? There were no other letters to her fellow female students mixed in with these essays. Could she have had an unusual obsession with her brightest student? Hermione had never felt anything untoward pass between them.

She searched avidly and quickly through the fifth year essays to find yet another letter, this mystery now planted in her consciousness. Hermione loved solving puzzles, and this was no exception.


Dear Hermione,

I am both pleased and disturbed by this defence club you and Mr. Potter are running. You have taken great initiative to increase your understanding of dueling techniques, spells and hexes, as well as helping other students learn these things since that infuriating woman Umbridge has refused to take on this responsibility as she should. Yet this is a dangerous task -- not the learning and the teaching per se, but the circumstances in which it is necessary to teach defence in such a manner. Dark times are definitely upon us and the Headmaster is becoming exceedingly distant. I am increasingly finding myself at a loss to what’s going on around us. I wish I could give more advice and guidance, but we are walking a tightrope with the Ministry and I am watched and judged. Be careful.

You are continuing to grow into a fine young woman, and I fear for your safety … well, all the students, really, but more so I find myself drawn to you. You have such talent and intelligence, such potential to be brilliant in our society -- a pillar for equal rights, an integrator of Muggle and Magical technologies, or a famous researcher of spell theory. I would hate to see such greatness squandered in war or, worse yet, be squashed under a regime of pure-blooded bigotry. And you have such beauty. Such fierce, brown eyes. Such radiance of power and determination. You shine like a beacon in the night, and it is with great restraint that I hold back from cradling your face with my aging hands. Oh! I grow very flushed with that image, so hot and bothered as they say. It’s really not proper; you are so young and I am beginning to feel so old.

Please be careful and cautious. I do not have Trelawny’s gift of sight, so I do not know what the future holds in store for us, but it doesn’t look promising at present.

Yours truly,

Minerva


Blinking, Hermione read through the letter again, paying particular attention to the hot-and-bothered line. Yes, it was implying that Minerva had become aroused. That was more food for thought. It was also disturbing, knowing that Minerva had had these thoughts while she, Hermione, was only fifteen. Actually, reading back through the previous letter, Minerva had had feelings for her at age fourteen. So young.

She wasn’t sure what to think about all this now, but she had to know more. With trepidation she read the sixth one once she’d found it on the next day.


Hermione,

I do not know how to talk to you, both in real life and in these letters. You are so strong and perfect, and yet you let yourself get flustered over a boy. There is more to life than teenage romances, and so many more years before any of these boys mature enough to be worthy of you. I wish I could show you what true affection looks like -- bouquets picked by hand, walks in the garden, soft words and soft touches, eyes only for you.

I wouldn’t mind showing you what true passion looks like as well. Touches so light that your skin gets goosebumps. Kisses that flutter all over your face, tingling your nerves and coaxing up a flush. Presses of bodies until heat overtakes us. Oh, it would be glorious.

And so wrong, I know.

Minerva


Hermione already felt flushed, her breath increased and her pulse elevated. Minerva certainly had an elegant way of voicing her attraction, unlike the crude language that most men used. She had hated that in Ronald, especially as a teenager. He’d improved with maturity, just as Minerva had predicted in the letter, but by then Hermione was done with him. She’d had a few boyfriends since, but none of them understood the delicacies of romance, and she’d come to crave just that. Perhaps she would confront Minerva about all this before the school year got started.

It took a little bit longer to find the seventh letter, not sure if there would even be one, considering the war, Snape’s reign as Headmaster, and the fact that Hermione had been absent that year. She was surprised to find it and avidly read through it.


Hermione,

I do not know where you are or how you are faring. I have never felt this particular terror before; there was a generalized terror during all the previous wars, of course, with such uncertainty during battles and comrades fighting alongside me, but there was no one special in my life during those times. And there was the terror and heartbreak I experienced in my youth when I returned home from my apprenticeship to find my father slaughtered by wild manticores; that was intense but brief, all things considered. This terror, however, is low and quiet. It creeps up at all times of the day, whenever my thoughts stop for a moment. I see you constantly in my mind and my fear grows as each moment passes. It undermines my will and corrodes my soul.

I wish I could find out what is happening with you. Go to you and grab you and hold on forever. Kiss you and caress you and keep you safe. I want to lay you in my bed and stroke you until you are panting, feverish from all my regard. To taste you everywhere and bring you to the heights of ecstasy. You are worth that to me.

I know it is highly inappropriate for me to consider such things. But my heart beats in that direction, and my soul yearns for companionship. Unfortunately, it is my head that must prevail while you are under my charge, even though you are far away.

Be safe, my love,

Minerva


With a heavy heart Hermione set down the last missive. She’d had no idea that Minerva felt that way about her, and even after she had left school for good, Minerva had never said anything about her feelings for her former student. Perhaps she had lost the crush, or maybe she had just buried it? The letter was filled with longing and sadness at what couldn’t be, so perhaps the latter was the correct answer.

But Hermione was older now. She knew her own mind and had had the sexual experiences all young women have to blunder through before they are no longer innocent. None of this would have worked during her school days, but there was a possibility it could work now. Hermione was turned on by the sensuality in those missives, and she wanted what she glimpsed there.

It took her a few days to finish putting her new classroom to rights, giving her time to think and consider, but unlike Minerva’s, her heart and mind were of one accord. So after dinner two nights later, she visited Minerva in her sitting room.

“Hermione, dear, what brings you here tonight? Come in, come in! Let me pour you a drink. Getting all settled in?”

“Yes, that’s all fine. I finished preparing the classroom.” She sat on the loveseat, hoping Minerva would take the other end, and accepted a glass of port. To her delight, Minerva did sit next to her. She bit her lip, looked down and gathered her next words. “While looking through all your old essays -- you know, finding tips and working out a grading scale -- I … found some letters.” She looked back up to gauge Minerva’s reaction. “Letters addressed to me.”

Her eyes went wide and a slight horror entered her visage. “Oh, dear. I thought I’d gotten rid of those. You … didn’t read them, did you?”

Hermione’s gaze didn’t waver or offer any negative response, only surety and acceptance. “I did, all of them.”

Minerva swallowed and her eyes unfocused, looking away from Hermione. She also went stiff and aloof. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I know it was not only inappropriate but also illegal to have had such thou--”

Hermione interrupted her with a light grasping of her forearm. “It’s fine.” When Minerva stilled, she slowly, gently, caressed upward. “In fact, it’s more than fine.”

Minerva looked at her, searching for truth. When she found it, she relaxed and smiled just a bit. “Well, if it’s fine, then perhaps you’d like to read the rest.”

It was Hermione’s turn to widen her eyes. “There’s more?”

Minerva’s smile grew. “Oh, yes, lots more.”

“Well, perhaps we can get to those later. Right now, I think it’s time to switch to a practical lesson. What say you, Professor?”

Minerva’s face turned mischievous. “I say, ‘Let the teaching begin.’”



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mods, I'm going to need a tag for kink and pairing hg/mm, please and thanks.

Comments

[nia_kantorka]

Oh, such a romantic and tender story. I loved how the tone changed from letter to letter. Minerva's way of expressing her feelings was so heart-warming. Maybe you could write a sequel about those two. I would love to see what's going to happen now. :D

[starduchess.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much; I'm glad you liked it. I enjoyed placing myself in Minerva's mind. Hmm, perhaps I will have to revisit these two someday.