Chapter 11
"She likes you, too."
"I... excuse me, what?"
"Miss Granger. She likes you, too. I heard Weasley say so."
"Mr. Weasley is hardly the most reliable source of inform- I mean, that is hardly an appropriate discussion since- I never even-"
McGonagall stood there, clutching her chest, thinking she might be having a heart attack. Pomona wondered whether she had miscalculated the amount of "soil" this affair needed. She always rather did overestimate it. But there was no taking back her words now.
Meanwhile, Minerva was still wondering whether she had even heard right.
"Miss Granger likes me- like... LIKES me- likes me?"
Pomona snorted, it was just too adorable to see a woman like Minerva McGonagall reduced to repitition. Moreover, 'even Sybil would've been able to foresee this', she thought, but to Minerva she just said "Yes, she does."
"Professor!", a voice panted behind them, and McGonagall and Sprout spun around, almost expecting to see Miss Granger, but the formerly empty class room was still empty... well, nearly empty. The Fat Lady was breathing heavily, obviously she had hurried through a lot of portraits to find them and was currently shoving the occupant of this one out of his frame.
"Professor, the Weasley twins just left, but I overheard them say something about a love potion earlier and if all my information from the other portraits and ghosts is correct, then- Miss Granger likes you even more now than she did before."
...Just when Minerva McGonagall thought she had seen it all, this school still always found a way to surprise her. She sank down onto the nearest chair and Pomona quickly conjured two double shots of firewhiskey, handing one over and toasting hers to the Fat Lady. The Fat Lady made a face. She still hadn't quite gotten over her latest hangover.
"Is there any plant to counter-act a love potion, Pomona?", McGonagall asked. Pomona sipped her whiskey, a wry smile on her lips as she replied "well garlic usually does the trick, Minerva."