I love your opening lines and the way they situate the "new" Hermione in the "old" Hogwarts; the way she feels both distinguished and alienated, exactly the same yet completely different from when she was a student. It's probably true for most anyone in a similar situation, but especially for Hermione, who's always been proud of her intellect and accomplishments while having moments of deep anxiety and insecurity.
Our first glimpse of Minerva and her first two lines establish her character incredibly well. So much done with so few words. Well, that's true of this entire piece, really. Every line holds a detail that makes the scene incredibly vivid or further develops the characterizations. I doubt that there's a single wasted word in here.
Grinning back, Hermione shifts under the weight, hefting these glorious volumes of once-forbidden knowledge that threaten to slip from her too-small hands. -- There are so many fantastic lines in this fic, but this one really stood out to me. The dual nature of it. A literal reading of this bit creates vivid details that almost make me feel and smell the books, but there's also the underlying feeling of one's hands being too small and, perhaps, insignificant, to bear the weight of so much history and knowledge.
Flushing, Hermione checks and double checks her translation, surprised at how fervently she needs it to be right. -- There's something both poignant and hilarious about that. Oh, Hermione! :D
The relationship between Hermione and Minerva develops quietly, peacefully, and as naturally as the turning of the seasons or the hours spent bent over books. The lyrical writing produces a sense of the solemn, persistent passage of time punctuated by Hermione's frustration and stern will and determination as she becomes intent upon communicating her feelings to Minerva. And the way that she does finally communicate them is brilliant and absolutely perfect.
The allegorical representations of the body as a book and sex acts as reading are wonderfully done. So much lovely, gorgeous writing...!
Our first glimpse of Minerva and her first two lines establish her character incredibly well. So much done with so few words. Well, that's true of this entire piece, really. Every line holds a detail that makes the scene incredibly vivid or further develops the characterizations. I doubt that there's a single wasted word in here.
Grinning back, Hermione shifts under the weight, hefting these glorious volumes of once-forbidden knowledge that threaten to slip from her too-small hands. -- There are so many fantastic lines in this fic, but this one really stood out to me. The dual nature of it. A literal reading of this bit creates vivid details that almost make me feel and smell the books, but there's also the underlying feeling of one's hands being too small and, perhaps, insignificant, to bear the weight of so much history and knowledge.
Flushing, Hermione checks and double checks her translation, surprised at how fervently she needs it to be right. -- There's something both poignant and hilarious about that. Oh, Hermione! :D
The relationship between Hermione and Minerva develops quietly, peacefully, and as naturally as the turning of the seasons or the hours spent bent over books. The lyrical writing produces a sense of the solemn, persistent passage of time punctuated by Hermione's frustration and stern will and determination as she becomes intent upon communicating her feelings to Minerva. And the way that she does finally communicate them is brilliant and absolutely perfect.
The allegorical representations of the body as a book and sex acts as reading are wonderfully done. So much lovely, gorgeous writing...!