I've Come Home

a/n: Something a little bit different.

Chapter 1

Minerva stepped into the room, wishing for a moment of solitude before meeting Hermione's worried, anxious eyes as the door behind her creaked close.

"Did you see Rose?" Hermione asked as she stepped from the far corner into the center of the room they had woken up in less than an hour prior. "Or ascertain where we are? Who has us? What they…" Hermione words became barely a whisper as she watched Minerva breathe out a harrowing sigh followed by a shaky breath, "are after?"

Minerva forcibly swallowed, "I did not see Rose, nor was I able to determine our location." She moved into the room, "You'll excuse me if I sit for a moment." She said while taking a few long strides to one of the two chairs sitting beside the small oak table.

Hermione felt her concern for not only herself, her daughter and the woman sitting down increase exponentially as the normally stoic expression of the Headmistress began to crack; portraying the other woman's grave concern. "Minerva," she followed and sat opposite, "what is it?"

"It seems," Minerva forced her gaze upwards to that of her prior student as her hand clenched, "Rabastan Lestrange has returned to the Isle."

Hermione's eyes widened, "As in Bellatrix's brother-in-law?"

"Yes."

"What does he want with us? Me?" Her voice rising moderately in pitch, "The war was over nine years ago, how does kidnapping…"

"He isn't after you." Minerva softly interrupted, "Rather me."

Hermione's mouth remained open for a solid four seconds before she was able to formulate a response, "Why? What does he want?" She searched the woman's pale face and at seeing the same worry and concern as there had been before, she softly whispered, "Minerva, what is it that he's after?"

"Me." Minerva repeated as she closed her eyes, a tear falling off of black lashes.

Hermione reached out, laying a hand upon Minerva's white knuckled fist as she fought her own anxiety and frustration at how little Minerva was making sense. "I'm not…"

Minerva yanked her hand away as her eyes snapped open, tears shimmering along the edges of red-rimmed emerald irises, "He wants me to have a child Hermione, using you and Rose as leverage; because if I do not do as he asks, he'll kill you and your daughter."

Hermione stood eyes sweeping around the room, "We have to find a way to escape and find Rose and…"

"He'll return Rose to you when I am moved to another room." Minerva managed.

"You can't be seriously contemplating his offer."

"He can't father the child, Hermione." Despondent eyes latched onto brown ones, "He tried to do what he now seeks through force during the first war; and I transfigured his testicles into wood which by the time he received medical treatment, he could no longer bear children. As for considering his offer, I have no intention but I am not alone in this situation and therefore cannot make the decision alone."

"The decision isn't mine either, Minerva. Because what he's asking…and to have my life balanced upon that along with Rose's life; I, of course, want to live and to ensure my daughter's life is spared but Merlin, Minerva, to let that to happen to you…"

"Perhaps, I need to begin again." Minerva rasped, "As it isn't merely to me. He wants my child, not because he's unable to bear a child but because of a prophecy uttered near a century ago regarding my mother's lineage. I am the last descendant of the Ross family alive; and if I do not have a child, the prophecy dies with me. To prevent the prophecy from dying, he seeks the alternative; which is agonizing to contemplate."

"What is the prophecy?"

"The child will have magical abilities the likes not seen since Merlin himself."

"And if he were to raise your child, it'd be like the last war with your child assuming Voldemort's prior role or worse."

"Undoubtedly worse because with my passing; the child would inherit the family estate and the cumulative familial wealth in which Rabastan could comfortably institute pureblood, divisive beliefs. But it is not merely my child," she fought her own trepidation off to repeat the harrowing statement Rabastan had uttered to her less than a half hour prior, "that he means to corrupt."

Her eyes widened as she gasped out, "Rose…" a quiver lacing her words as a tremble resided in her fingers, "he can't…oh my God, Minerva…"

"He doesn't mean for either of us to live Hermione." Minerva stated as she forced herself to reach forward and place her own unsteady hand upon Hermione's in what was assuredly a vain effort to provide a semblance of comfort. "He intends to raise Rose and," Minerva's voice momentarily floundered as she fought for what remained of her normally staunch resolve and Gryffindor bravery, "her half-brother as his own."

It didn't take Hermione even a full second to process the statement as she repeated, "Half-brother…?" And at seeing the answer reflected in Minerva's eyes she found that her mouth instantly became dry as she tried to find a way to swallow as her mind numbly conjured the answer that breathlessly spilt from her lips, "Because he can't have children."

The room had become deathly silent in the wake of the realization as the two women grappled with what to say…and the magnitude of what had been stated.

Silence stretched for what seemed like infinitely, but to Minerva, it hadn't been long enough when Hermione's hoarsely began to speak, "He thinks you and I can…what, have a child together?"

"We can," Minerva replied as a light rouge spread up her neck as she finished, "as I'm fairly adept in transfiguration."

"I…" Hermione felt her own blush spread across her cheeks, "have never heard of anyone being able to perform a transfiguration that would enable a woman to…well…to…"

"Impregnate another woman." Minerva supplied.

"Yes." Hermione managed, "Are you certain you are able to…perform…I mean…" she stymied her doubts and plunged ahead, "have you ever seen the spell performed before or," her voice hitched, "cast it prior?"

"I have not cast it, but…I do know how." She saw Hermione open her mouth to further inquire and Minerva reluctantly expanded, "The spell is an alteration of physical matter."

"And Rabastan knows that you can cast this spell?"

"He undoubtedly knows of the possibility because his great-grandmother was a world renowned transfiguration master who bore a child with another witch; and as I am quite versed in the discipline figures that I too know the spell."

"So, we stall and…"

"He'll be returning for my answer," her eyes flashed to the clock silently marking the passage of time, "within the hour."

Hermione followed Minerva's gaze to the clock and felt her heart skip a beat as her stomach plummeted at seeing that it was 9:38. "As in 22 minutes?"

"Quite."

Hermione could see that the lack of time and looming decision becoming evident on angular features, an expression she was sure she was mirroring. "I can't…" She sighed, "Jesus Minerva, what he is proposing; the entire situation is ludicrous. For us to have a child, I…I can't imagine. I…"

Minerva stood and turned around folding her arms about herself as she did, Hermione continuing to talk.

"…don't know if I could even have sex with you, let alone anyone other Ron, but if we don't…" Her cadence cracking as she finished, "my baby girl will die." The last of her sentence causing proud shoulders to slump in response and she breathed out a harrowing truth, "We need some time." Hermione forced herself to stand and slowly, painstakingly, move behind the woman she had known for seventeen years – the woman who had been her teacher, protector, mentor, an acquaintance, and slowly she had become her friend…and with shaky fingers, she extended her own hand, pausing a scant centimeter from thin shoulders. Absently her fingers curled into a fist, a physical representation of her own hesitation and with a breath she forced her hand to abide her wishes; fingers unwound and laid out, touching the soft material. "I have no right to ask this of you, but…" she swallowed as she took a step closer, eyes closing from the effort to say the words…however, it wasn't her voice who uttered the next sentence, rather Minerva's.

"I don't know if I can, Hermione." Minerva reached around with her left hand, laying her fingers atop the warm, trembling hand resting on her shoulder.

"Minerva…I…we need time."

Minerva shifted, causing Hermione's hand to fall from her shoulder as she pulled her own hand away, "We do," her contralto thickening as she turned to meet Hermione's imploring gaze, "I just don't know if I can say yes."

Hermione's eyes darted past Minerva to the clock once more, 9:41. "Me either, but if you don't…"

"I'd be sentencing both you and Rose to death; and eventually he will obtain what he desires." She let out a deep sigh, "I am aware of what the outcome is for you. For Rose. And ultimately," she swallowed, "myself. I am also keenly aware given the situation that Rabastan has been planning this for some time; which bodes ill for all of us to escape."

Realization sparked in brown eyes, "You could escape, couldn't you?"

"Yes, but not with you and Rose."

Hermione involuntarily gasped as she realized the full scope of Minerva's statement, and what that ultimately meant for looming decision. "You are going to accept." She breathed, relief evident in her voice as unshed tears filled her eyes as Minerva nodded. "Thank you."

"It's a little early to be thanking me." Minerva barely managed to state as she met Hermione's tearful gaze with her own, "As I don't know how I'll be able to do what…" a tear slipped off her lashes, "I'll be agreeing to."

Hermione went to step forward and embrace Minerva but at the distinct sound of the ward's shifting, she moved to stand beside Minerva creating a picture of solidarity a moment before the door opened and Rabastan stepped into the room. His height was equal to Hermione's perhaps two centimeters taller, certainly not as tall as Minerva but far broader than Harry had become. His silver and ebony hair skimming across the high collar of his ivory shirt, his rosy cheeks strikingly disparate to his stark complexion as wide, scary black orbs consumed the air from the room. "I don't believe we've met, Mrs. Weasley. Rabastan Lestrange." A toothy grin passed over cracked lips, "But I believe you did meet my sister, having had a rare opportunity to spend some time together at Malfoy Manor."

"I can't say it's a pleasure."

A haughty laugh spread across the small space, "Oh, what a gem. It seems I drank Felix Felicious after all." Glistening eyes moved to Minerva, "Especially if your expression is anything to go by."

Minerva's jaw rippled as she swallowed the bile from the words she was about to utter, "I accept your offer."

"And," the barely contained glee was practically dripping off his voice, "what of you Mrs. Weasley?"

Hermione wanted nothing more than to wipe the lecherous grin from spreading across his face, and held onto the hope that she would one day be able to but until then; she needed to find a way to survive until she could. And that meant that she too had to utter an acceptance to a proposal that that she could not fathom, let alone the consequences…barring she lived long enough to witness any of them. "I…do as well."

"Splendid," he lifted his brow, "now if you will permit me," he tipped his wand at Hermione, and before she could utter a word a yellow light shot forward and Minerva went to move to intercede but he shook his head, "Ahhahh, she's quite fine. Merely ascertaining if she's ovulating and how long until she does, as I doubt you'd like to undergo this feat more than once. And…my my." He muttered glancing at the remnants of the spell, Minerva inwardly wincing as she too understood the meaning as Hermione's face became ashen in obvious understanding as well. "Looks like you shall have a fast courtship," he began stepping back as he nodded to the small refrigerator beside the worn chesterfield and behind the chair and table set, "I'll be back the day after tomorrow, you've got ample food and drink to last until then." He paused at the door, "I do hope you enjoy yourselves."

"Wait," Hermione said as she stepped forward trying to withhold the sudden, overwhelming feeling of panic, "to cast the spell, Minerva will need a wand."

A frown passed over his face, "She's a fifth level transfiguration master who may need a wand for complex spellwork, but certainly not that spell." His tone turned haughtily as his gaze landed on Minerva, "Unless you've slipped as you've aged."

"You could lower your wand and see." Minerva retorted as he slipped from the room and within moments the door was once more sealed and warded to prevent their escape.

Hermione followed running her hand along where the door had been only a scant few seconds prior, "I can't even feel the magic that's hiding the door."

Minerva sighed, "He's hiding it using blood wards." She moved to the cabinetry which was to the right of the table and chairs, "We can see if we can alter the warding structure, but," she opened a second drawer and withdrew a knife, "we need blood."

"I read about conducting blood wards and maintaining them," she stepped back as Minerva drew closer and with a deft stroke slipped the knife across the palm of her hand, "I've just never had any practical experience." Minerva lifted her left palm, "Or saw the need to learn."

"Without a wand," Minerva stepped closer to the wall and placed her palm where the door had been, "I don't know if I'll be able to shift the warding."

Hermione eyed Minerva as her eyes began to close, "What can I do to help?"

"Just…" her voice began to trail off, "be still."

Hermione did as Minerva asked, and took the rare opportunity to simply watch Minerva conduct complex wandless magic. At first it appeared as nothing was happening, and then a light brownish glow swirled along her fingers as her lips pursed, head slowly tipped to the side and eyes fluttered – the glow spreading outward before reaching close to a meter and then stalling. At first Hermione thought it was a mere obstacle, similar to the one Minerva had seemed to encounter just a minute prior; but at the way Minerva's head shifted and her fingers flexed as her cheek rippled, Hermione knew something was not right. However, before she could say or do anything she watched as the brownish color became scarlet and collapsed to Minerva's hand. Minerva's jaw fell open as a gasp left her lips and with a strangled cry she yanked her hand away from the wall, "Ahhhh…." She took a deep breath as she stepped backward, flexing her hand.

"Are you alright?" Concern lacing her question.

"Yaxley's here." She swallowed, "Or he's at his residence, and overlaying his blood wards onto the estate."

"So I'll need to assist in countering one of the two sets?" She asked as she stepped closer.

"I can't," Minerva said standing fully upright, "right now. I need a few minutes."

Hermione reached out, "Minerva…" eyes meeting the others, "we have time."

"Not much," Minerva replied as she moved to the sink to splash some water on her face and rinse the wound upon her hand.

"What happened to remaining positive?" Hermione countered.

Minerva turned back to Hermione, lips pursed. "In less than two days, Rabastan will return and we…I…" her composure was beginning to crack, "am to have sex with you, Hermione. And I…am not comfortable with the notion."

Hermione couldn't help the chuckle that slipped out, "To be honest, I'm not really comfortable with having sex with you either."

Xoxo

Hermione groaned in frustration at the eleventh failed attempt in less than a day, as they were desperately running out of time until Rabastan returned. Involuntarily, she glanced at the clock – again.

"Time is not the enemy Hermione." Minerva flexed her hand as she tiredly walked toward the chesterfield.

"We have less than twenty-four hours, and I…" she gingerly moved to one of the chairs, "I'm tired."

"As am I." Minerva leaned back onto the cushions, letting her head relax along the pillows. "I'd suggest a short nap and then we try again."

"Minerva," Hermione shifted not wanting to broach the topic but as the peripheral clock continued to denote the silent and yet consistent passage of time, "what if we can't alter the wards?"

"We will." Minerva said to the ceiling, unwilling to move as she blinked back the tears from her own doubts.

"If we can't?"

"Then," Minerva shifted her head enabling her to see Hermione, "as uncomfortable as we both are about talking about it will be nothing to what we are feeling at that moment."

Hermione felt a smile grace her lips at Minerva's quip and forced herself to stand, "I'll take the chesterfield tonight," she moved closer and extended her hand outward, "you take the bed."

"I'm not moving." Minerva rumbled in response as she let her eyes flutter close again, "You take the bed."

The faint smile became wider as Hermione stared into what she was assured was nothing short of an exceedingly rare scene, "At least lay out, or you won't be able to move when you get up."

"I could hardly move this morning," Minerva admitted, "and I have no doubt that I shan't feel much better in a few hours."

"Then please, take the bed."

"It matters little if I were to take the bed or the chesterfield," Minerva pushed her head off the pillows to meet Hermione's warm gaze, "I am riddled with aches and pains from countless errant spells." She gave a brief tilt of her head, "Now get a few hours of sleep and I'll see you shortly."

oxox

Minerva flexed the fingers of her right hand as she massaged her forearm with her left, "What happened?"

"I lost my concentration," Hermione sheepishly admitted, "I'm sorry, Minerva."

Minerva inwardly sighed as she tried to negate her own frustration, "We've got at best a half dozen more opportunities before he arrives, and we can and will alter the wards. As for the distraction," she let go of her right arm as she strode forward and as she moved into Hermione's personal space, she swallowed her own apprehension and discomfort while reaching up with her right hand and placing it along Hermione's jaw and running her fingers up along the smooth skin until she felt the bottom of Hermione's ear as she tipped her head – and didn't think despite hearing a light gasp of surprise before her lips covered Hermione's.

Minerva's only thought as her fingers tangled into fine hair was how supple and warm Hermione's lips were as their lips remained unmoving…delineating the hesitancy and awkwardness of the situation.

Minerva pushed past her own feelings and discomfort with the whole of her resolve, shifting her lips as she began to fully kiss Hermione.

After the third pass over Hermione's warm lips without a response, Minerva went to pull away, but Hermione's hands slipped around Minerva's waist as she leaned into Minerva…and slowly began to kiss Minerva back.

Their kiss remained hesitant.

Slow.

Gentle.

And Hermione blinked as Minerva pulled away feeling confused as she met sagely colored eyes.

"We've both had sex before," Minerva's voice was throaty as her Scottish accent laced the edges of her words as she tenderly removed her fingers from Hermione's hair, "so stop worrying about the elephant in the room." And brushed the backs of her fingers along Hermione's cheek, "We'll manage."

Hermione felt something waver in her and she found herself leaning into the gentle warmth as she stared into Minerva's eyes, as she ran the tips of her fingers up Minerva's waist, ribs…and she felt a flutter in her stomach as Minerva's eyes flicked to her lips and she felt herself leaning forward – their breaths mingling.

"…we have time and…"

Hermione didn't answer with words, closing the mere millimeters between them a sigh swallowed by Minerva's lips as they closed along hers. Hermione reveled in the feeling; the warmth, the gentleness, the comfort, that she almost forgot who she was kissing. Except she was kissing The Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall, her once mentor and friend and not her husband, Ron – and she found herself opening her lips to slip her tongue out to touch…the thin, warm, talented lips ghosting over hers…

And then opening up…

Tongues tentatively touching…and Minerva pulled back resting her forehead against Hermione's as their breaths once more co-mingled, "…I'd rather continue the alternative, as we do have time."

"As would I," Hermione breathlessly agreed, "but," she pulled back a few centimeters enabling her to look directly into Minerva's eyes, "if we have to…I can't…it's going to be hard enough for to do this it as it is…let alone have a time constraint."

Minerva took a step back placing a full half meter between them, causing Hermione's hands to fall from her waist as her own dropped to her sides, "While true," she stated while clearing her throat, "I, prefer to wait as the alternative is not something –" she felt her voice catch as she continued staring into Hermione's eyes, "that can be undone."

Slowly, Hermione acquiesced, and both women agreed to wait another hour.

Oxox

a/n: And no, I haven't forgotten about my other open stories - Bonding included.