A/N: This story seems to be getting away from me…
It Is Good To Feel You There
The young woman at her side brought Minerva's protective and cautious side to the forefront, making her more hyper alert to the environment than was normal even for her. Releasing the young woman's hand in order to reach for her wand, the older witch allowed Hermione a moment to regain her equilibrium while she made sure they were safe. The animagus scanned their surrounding, old habits from two wars too engrained in her psyche to ignore. Voldemort, and all his followers, had long since fallen (either to death or captivity), but the Headmistress knew evil existed regardless of figurehead.
Feeling the slight vertigo pass, Hermione studied the tense set of Minerva's form a moment before taking in what she could of their surroundings. The grounds were isolated. Hermione smiled at the predictability of the older witch. She knew that Minerva loved her students. And, she loved the work she did at Hogwarts. But, when a spare moment was available she liked to take it in private. Minerva loved solitude and she liked getting away from people from time to time. She liked not having to be what was expected of her all the time: the venerable Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, most powerful witch of her age, best friend to the late Albus Dumbledore, Transfiguration master. Sometimes Minerva liked to just be Minerva.
Brown eyes turned to the silhouette of the older witch noticing a visible relaxing of tense shoulders as Minerva was seemingly satisfied that they were safe. Green eyes, that seemed to glow in the dark surrounding them, turned to meet brown. Questions burned to be let out into the space between them, but Hermione held them in check not wanting to ruin the moment with unnecessary conversation. They would have time to talk. Right now, the young woman was simply going to enjoy the presence of the other woman.
Hermione felt Minerva's warm hand again encase her own. The move felt natural. There was a rightness to the gesture that sent a wave of affection through the young witch. She felt no sense guilt or regret. Without a word, the women began their journey. The young woman deferred to the lead of the animagus as Minerva carefully led them through the outskirts of her property, through the barriers erected to protect her home against any intrusion.
Hands entwined, the duo walked through the moonlit night at a leisurely pace. It was inadvertently an inherently romantic stroll. The soft song of a nightingale, with an accompaniment of crickets, meandered its way to the ears of the couple as they crested a small hill.
Breath catching in her throat, Hermione stopped as her eyes stared in open wonder at the sight before her. The night sky above the small cottage-not more than a hundred feet ahead- was alight with breathtaking hues of color. Reds, greens, blues and purples all coalesced and merged, painting the night sky in muted, but resplendent light; the light danced as if a living watercolor had been splashed across the heavens with the full moon bright and proud astride the vivid hues. "That is absolutely breathtaking," came the awed whisper from the young woman as her eyes stayed riveted on the sight before her.
"Aye," came the equally hushed and awed voice of the animagus, her eyes riveted not on the night sky, but on the young woman marveling at it, "'Tis the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on."
Feeling eyes on her, Hermione turned to see Minerva's gaze firmly fixed on her face. The young witch blushed at the intense attention, and the compliment, as green eyes traced her features in the dark with apparent wonder. Her breath hitched slightly as the animagus eliminated the distance between them.
Minerva stopped short of physical contact. She heard a small sigh escape the dark eyed beauty that had turned to fully face her; she was unsure if it was a sigh of relief or disappointment. Hoping it was the latter, Minerva brought her hands up to cup Hermione's face. Pulse racing erratically, in equal parts nervousness and excitement, she unconsciously leaned her tall frame closer to the face held between her hands.
When Minerva stopped again, Hermione moved her hands (which up to that point had hung at her sides for lack of knowing what to do with them) to the older woman's waist and pulled her flush against her body. Both women groaned at the full body contact. Not taking a moment to consider her actions, Hermione closed the small gap between their faces. Standing slightly on tiptoes, the young woman surged up, fusing her lips to Minerva's.
For a moment the world stopped. Soft lips moved in tandem, igniting a fire that increased in heat each passing second. Aching need spread through each woman as their blood burned through their veins. A deep moan reverberated through Minerva's chest, sounding closer to a purr, as the animagus opened her mouth to give entrance to the insistent tongue sliding against her lips. The first touch of tongues caused simultaneous moans to erupt from each witch and throbbing wetness to pool at the juncture of two sets of thighs.
Shuddering against the full curves pressed against her, Minerva let her hands slide around Hermione's shoulders pressing herself impossibly closer the intoxicating woman. Hermione unconsciously followed Minerva's example and allowed her arms to encircle the older witch's lower back, not leaving even a millimeters space between their two bodies as hands bunched the cloth on that lean back and tugged possessively.
One kiss turned to several under the witness of a dancing aurora borealis and set to the choir of nightingales and crickets.
When the need for air outweighed their desire, kiss swollen lips separated and ragged breathing filled the ears of the two witches. Eyes closed, foreheads pressed together, the women tried to fill their lungs with much needed oxygen. Minerva groaned when she became conscious of the exaggerated press of Hermione's breasts against her own every time the young woman drew in a ragged breath.
Eyes opening at the sound, Hermione could not help but smile smugly at the sight of the Headmistress of Hogwarts pressed against her, heart beating wildly, eyes closed, panting, flushed and wanting because of her kisses. Full lips descended once again, but Hermione was not aiming for Minerva's mouth. Instead, the young woman peppered kisses along a strong jaw before slowly pressing open mouthed kisses along what she was finding to be a very sensitive neck.
Moaning low and long as Hermione hit a particularly sensitive spot, Minerva moved a hand up to the young woman's neck holding her in place as she laved her neck with deliciously pleasurable kisses. Feeling her knees losing strength, Minerva gathered what she could of her scattered thoughts and tried to form a coherent sentence. Her first few attempts were little more than breathy moans.
"Hermione," the Headmistress finally expelled, though it sounded more like encouragement than the explicit desire to stop. And Hermione took it as encouragement, humming against the throat she was kissing before dragging her lips back up to Minerva's lips, making the older witch forget that she was attempting to get the young witch's attention in the first place.
"I thought you wanted to talk," Minerva tried again after her lips were released, though she was dizzy with desire and was not at all sure that was a statement she should be making.
"I thought I did, too," Hermione rejoined in an unsure tone, after a much longer pause than was usual. Her own desire making her thought process stagger and slow. I've never felt like this before, Hermione thought, breath rapid and shallow, This need so intense; so out of control. Eyes dilated to black pools of desire stared up at Minerva causing the older woman to swallow thickly as her own need ached within her.
For a moment, Minerva considered simply taking Hermione under the stars. She desired nothing more than to disregard anything past this particular moment. But, she knew Hermione's first response had been to seek answers; to still the loud questions of her mind. By her very character, Minerva could not take advantage of the desire robbing the young woman of her higher mental functions. Damn honor, Minerva thought almost bitterly as she stepped back from Hermione.
Not understanding what Minerva was doing, Hermione remained still, her brow furrowed in confusion as her mind tried desperately to understand why their bodies were no longer pressed together and within kissing distance. The sudden and unpleasant fear that gripped her heart was quickly dissipated when the animagus took her hand and resumed their trek to the cottage.
By the time they reached the cottage, the intense arousal that enveloped them was simmering under a tighter pretense of control. Their minds, at least, were somewhat clearer. Minerva ushered Hermione through the threshold. Hermione immediately noticed the cottage was as small inside as it had seemed from the outside. She could see the entirety of the place from where she stood just over the threshold of the home.
The entry way led to a comfortably sized living room, with an impressive fireplace, decorated in earth tones with dark woods and bright tartan cloth dominating the accessories of the room. Hermione could not help but smile at all the filled bookshelves that lined the walls. On the left wall she spotted a single door where she could see a partial view of what looked to be the only bedroom in the cottage. She swallowed at the implication of spending the night; excitement setting her pulse in a perpetual state of increase. Moving her eyes to a safer place, she turned and saw a small kitchen opposite the bedroom separated from the living room only by a counter area that served as a breakfast bar.
"I'd give you a tour," Minerva's voice broke into Hermione's perusal, "but it wouldn't be much more informative than what your eyes just told you." Still holding Hermione's hand, the animagus led the young woman to sit on one of the bar stools at the breakfast bar as she prepared to busy herself making tea.
Before Minerva could take a full step around the counter, Hermione stopped her with a hand on her arm. Turning a questioning gaze on the young woman, Minerva waited. "Thank you," Hermione let go of her arm, "for stopping and giving us a chance to talk about this first." A slight blush tinged her cheeks as she forced herself to maintain eye contact, "I'm not sure I could've stopped. I didn't want to stop." Minerva forced her gaze away from Hermione's face as a pink tongue peaked out to wet full lips and the young woman continued in a much deeper and thicker voice, "That kiss was…"
The animagus' smile was completely smug and self satisfied. It was more than a small ego boost that she had left Hermione speechless. "Cat got your tongue," she teased noting the dreamy look on the young woman's face.
"Hhmm," Hermione answered absently, "the cat definitely had my tongue a few moments ago. And, I wouldn't mind getting back to that."
Minerva groaned. "We aren't going to get much talking done if we continue with this particular line of thought, Hermione." Placing both hands on the counter in front of her, the animagus took a cleansing breath before getting busy with their tea.
"I take it this isn't a place you come to work," Hermione commented, having noted a distinct absence of den or office area and needing to move to a safer topic. She rested her elbows on the counter in front of her, laying her chin on her entwined hands, eyes following Minerva's every move. She wanted nothing more than to walk around the counter and kiss the other woman senseless again. But, she knew they did need to talk. Even if only to briefly confirm they were on the same page.
Minerva could feel Hermione's gaze on her, the tremor present in her hands confirmed that, but she had promised to move at the younger woman's pace. So, she was steadfastly ignoring the simmering arousal that was a step from consuming her; instead focusing on busying herself with steeping their tea. "No," she replied to Hermione's query while looking for Ginger Newts to go with their tea, "I come here mainly to get away from work, and everything associated with work." Smiling in triumph at locating a tin can with the biscuits, she moved them to the tray where she had placed the tea. "In fact," she continued as she moved to the living room with the laden tray, "no one actually knows I own this property. I bought it a few years ago from a Muggle realtor for that specific purpose. I needed a place where I could disappear and not worry about being found."
Sitting gently next to Minerva with her body angled to face the older woman, Hermione digested that bit of information as she was handed a cup of steaming tea. "And," the young witch took a sip of her tea to give herself a bit more time to process what she wanted to say, "you brought me to your private sanctuary." The mystified tone made the statement sound like a question.
"You did say you wanted to speak somewhere private," Minerva replied, "and I trust you." Taking a sip of her own tea while she studied the young woman, the older witch decided to be completely honest, "And, when I think of getting away from everyone, it never includes you. I never think of getting away from you."
"Minerva," Hermione set her tea aside and seriously looked at the woman in front of her, "what are we doing?" She shook her head in honest contemplation, not giving Minerva a moment to actually answer her question. "I mean, I know what we did a few minutes ago. And, I know what I want to do tonight. But, what are we doing? What do you want to do?" And Minerva knew she meant with their friendship, with their future.
Fear clutched at Hermione's heart as she put her questions forth. War had taught her to weigh every action and take the most cautious route. War taught her risk usually ended in disaster. To succeed in war, a plan was needed. You did not win by luck. You won because the balance was in your favor. Here, alone with Minerva, was an unplanned situation. She was risking her heart without first having weighed if the benefits outweighed the costs. She was dependent not on caution and careful planning but on hope and luck to see her through.
"I want to do whatever you want to do, Hermione," was Minerva's simple answer as she set her own tea aside and evenly regarded the young witch.
The young woman released a breath she did not know she was holding. "How are you so calm about this?" Hermione asked more than a little surprised at the Headmistress' reaction to this tremendous change in their relationship.
"I have had years to work through my feeling for you," green eyes reflected emotions she had yet to voice.
"You never indicated anything other than friendly companionship," Hermione said almost accusingly.
"I could not," Minerva tried to explain and take away the slight hurt she could hear in the other woman's voice, "you respected and valued my opinion too much for me to voice anything other than that. I did not want to sway your decision simply because you thought you owed it to me out of loyalty or respect."
"I was not a child. I could have made my own decisions," Hermione was not sure what she felt exactly at the revelations she was hearing. Confusion mostly, and regret at all the years wasted.
"Legally you were, and at the time that was more than enough to stop me," Minerva's voice was slightly strained at having to defend herself to the one person she never thought she would need to explain those particular decisions.
"And afterwards?" Hermione asked, hands coming to rest on top of Minerva's to ease the strain of the conversation and to let her know she understood and she was just curious.
"Mr. Weasley managed to beat me to the punch, as it were," Minerva explained, "And, I would never be a hindrance to your happiness. Even though it killed me every time I saw you both together."
"I feel like I should apologize for putting you and Ron through that," brown eyes slid closed as she thought back years she could never get back.
"You have nothing to apologize for," Minerva's voice was soft but full of conviction.
Hermione suddenly did not want to talk anymore. She wanted to just be in the moment, and take things as they came. Giving in to her sudden impulse, she pulled Minerva to her and captured her lips in a searing kiss. A kiss that dissolved fears, past and present. A kiss that righted her world.
"I suppose we are done talking then," Minerva let out breathlessly when she was released. In lieu of an answer, Hermione recaptured her lips while small hands worked on the closures of her robes. Breath escaping her at the young woman's intent, Minerva worked valiantly not to hyperventilate at the prospect of her dreams coming true.
Pulling the young woman to her feet, Minerva cupped Hermione's face. Tracing the delicate skin underneath her fingers, she waited until brown eyes locked with her own. "For the sake of clarity," the animagus began, "let me say this as plainly as I can. I love you Hermione Jean Granger. I love you with everything I am. I want you. And, I want to be with you. I want whatever you want to give. Even if it is only tonight," she swallowed, "or if it is a lifetime you want. I want to give you everything." She dropped a kiss on the tip of the young woman's nose, "I love you."
Glowing brown eyes closed as Hermione's mouth gently sought out Minerva's. "Show me, Minerva," came Hermione's breathy command a moment after the kiss ended, "Take me to bed."