The Council of Elders had twelve members; as Hermione had said, they were mostly elderly or at least of Minerva's generation but without magic to sustain their cells, they looked their age. Seven were men; all dressed in formal suits, of varying styles and eras, and the remaining five were women. The witch noticed that each member wore something red; a cumberbun, a tie, shirt, a sash, a dress, and it was obviously a way of signifying their standing.

True to her earlier guess, a butler had opened the antechamber door, announcing only "Hermione Granger, Division of Territory and Security."

Still holding the hand that Minerva had tucked in the crook of her arm, Hermione confidentially strode forward towards the long row of chairs behind a table, on a raised dais. She stopped at a cushion on the floor, released the witch and knelt upon it. Even while Minerva was making her curtsey, she noticed that the girl made an odd motion, lifting her chin and tilting her head. It took her a moment to realise that the woman beside her was exposing her throat in a ritualised gesture of submission.

Minerva laced her hands behind her back, drawing on her years of teaching experience, to remain still and not fidget. Twelve sets of eyes subjected her to a few minutes of rather predatory staring but she maintained her cool, suspecting that they were trying to intimidate her rather than actually posing a threat. Then the attention turned to Hermione who was still kneeling; unnaturally still, motionless.

The man Minerva knew to be Hermione's father leaned forward and tapped a sheaf of papers on the table. "Well daughter, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Hermione's position relaxed slightly, and she turned her head to fully face her father as the meeting moved to another type of formality, "You have my report, sire?"

"I do. It doesn't explain why you didn't kill this human when you had a chance, nor why you abandoned your post to protect her."

"Sire, the post was manned at all times after the scuffle, by three of us, as was Minerva. Reinforcements were sought; as per protocol, who arrived in less than an hour, at which time Andrew led a team to dispose of the bodies."

"And the human?"

"During what we saw of Minerva's pursuit; her actions both in the fight and afterwards - this human, Minerva McGonagall; showed remarkable courage, fortitude, compassion and intelligence. I chose to claim her and discover more because I believed that she would be an asset to not only myself but the pack as a whole."

"And in the day since? Do you still have such a high opinion?"

"Higher if anything, sire. Minerva has handled what must be an extremely stressful situation with equanimity and grace. As you can see from her intake forms: Professor McGonagall is a highly intelligent and capable witch, educated and experienced in a field we greatly need."

A woman spoke this time, "And regarding your desire to take her as your mate?"

"Minerva has consented to that, my lady"

"Have you?"

"I have."

The elderly woman spoke again, "You understand that the moment you crossed our border your life was forfeit and that being Miss Granger's mate is only a stay of execution, that you will need to remain with her until death parts you."

"I do," answered Minerva, thinking as she did, that this sounded like some kind of messed up wedding ceremony.

"Are we really considering this?" Snarked Hermione's father with a growl. "This human... woman…? My daughter is hardly in a position to demand such a thing from this Council."

Minerva saw the young wolf stiffen and not caring about the possible implications, she placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder in a propitiatory gesture and took a single step, positioning herself slightly forward of the brunette. The movement caused many of their watchers to stiffen or raise their eyebrows but the wolf Minerva had answered just laughed and gestured at them, "Can you really ask that Paul? You knew when you campaigned for Hermione to be educated among humans, that she might very well one day choose to take one as her mate."

Paul Granger grunted but made no reply. Minerva didn't move her hand, nor did Hermione make any gesture to indicate that she didn't want the touch and in fact, subtly leaned into it.

"The way I see it," the female wolf said, "Hermione's right. We need more witches to help secure the Conclave and most of all we need witches who can teach our young people. An experienced witch who is bound by a mating rite would be incredibly useful. She already proved just then, that she has the same values as us - protecting and supporting her future mate, behaving in other words, almost exactly the same as one of us would have. I vote Aye."

The motion was seconded and voting passed unanimously, with the exception of Hermione's father who abstained from the formality - his opinion clear by the hostility radiating from him.

When instructed to rise, Hermione did so - unnecessarily helped by Minerva but the gesture made her smile. "Then may I please formally present my intended mate, Minerva McGonagall?"

Both witches gave a sigh of relief when they were allowed to walk into the next room, which was thankfully a corridor. "There, all done."

"Now all we need to do is to spend the night mingling with people who want to smell me."

Hermione chuckled, brushing the tip of her nose against Minerva's hand and made a play of sniffing her. "Not so terrible, is it?"

"Not when you do it." Minerva muttered, tightening her hand around Hermione's, "Did I really act like one of you? In there?"

"A little yes, but if you had been one of us, there would probably have been some growling involved. Does it bother you?"

"He bothered me." Emerald eyes flashed with annoyance.

Hermione leaned in and pressed her lips against Minerva's pursed ones, feeling them soften into the brief kiss almost immediately. "It feels nice, having someone protect me, and not because it's their duty or their instinct but because they want to."

The older woman squeezed her hand again. "There I was thinking that you were going to protect me, aren't you supposed to be the big bad wolf?"

Hermione laughed, "I dunno, I've met some pretty terrifying cats and I know better than to cross one." She took a deep breath when a suited attendant slipped into the hallway through a side door, "Once more into the breach?" At Minerva's nod, she looked at the white gloved butler who stood with his hand on the door.

The dark wood swung inwards, allowing the familiar sounds of a crowd intrude into their solitude. Then the butler spoke in a booming voice that cut through the hubbub, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Hermione Granger and intended mate, Minerva McGonagall."

It was with considerable nerves that the two women entered the now quiet room. Hermione reached out for a passing waiter and grabbed two glasses of champagne, not because she actually wanted one but knowing that a drink would provide a prop for their hands and a sense of normality.

Minerva took the flute with a murmured "Thank you."

Hermione focused on someone across the room and seemed to come to some internal resolution, "There's someone I want you to meet," she again reached for Minerva's hand, "If you don't mind?"

The witch entangled their fingers and let herself be guided through the crowd. She had always been good at reading a room and was wondering if that ability would transfer to wolves.

Most of the looks that they were getting were simply appraising but a few were downright hostile or disgusted. It wasn't anything new to Minerva. She had been discriminated against in various ways throughout her life: as a half-blood in a world where those things mattered more than they should, for being a witch by a Muggle father who couldn't understand, for being brought up mostly as a Muggle - she had been undervalued due to her gender, dismissed and excluded by peers and colleagues because of her open bisexuality. Thankfully many of those reactions appeared to be in the minority here but it did seem that she would have to fight once again to be valued on her own merits.

Hermione stood out for a number of reasons; she was one of the only women dressed in a suit, the cut and formality of it was a little severe, but striking - their progress across the crowded room was slow as all eyes were drawn to them. Minerva would have never assumed that her appearance was as much to blame for the attention as Hermione's. Her dress was moulded to her curves, drawing eyes to her exposed arms, slender waist and pert backside. The grey colour of the garment complemented the intense green of her eyes and the silver highlights in her ebony hair.

Finally Hermione managed to reach the other side of the room, finding the person she was looking for. "Benjy." A man separated himself from a small group and hurried over. She smiled at Minerva and let go of the older woman's hand.

"Hermione darling, I had been hoping to catch you. I need your help desperately."

Minerva looked on, a little confused as a rather flamboyant man in a shiny blue smoking jacket briefly wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder, before he looked over at her curiously.

"I can probably do better than that for you." The wolf's lopsided grin made another appearance, "Benjamin Carey, I'd like you to meet Professor Minerva McGonagall, late of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Blue eyes widened and he gave a joyful little skip, "Hermione Granger, you absolute bloody legend." He stuck out his hand towards Minerva, "Benjy, please, and I cannot tell you how delighted I am to meet you." The older witch smiled, not quite sure what was going on but pleased that someone was happy to see her.

Hermione laughed, "Minerva, Benjy is the Deputy Head of our main school, which somehow means that he has been lumbered with administering the magical school, ever since its Headmaster retired - despite the fact that he is not a wizard. Quite frankly it's a mess and I know you haven't even had a chance to look around yet, but I just wanted to make the introduction. Please don't feel as though you are obligated."

Minerva raised an eyebrow as the young woman's words turned into nervous babbling. Before she could speak however, Benjy jumped in. "I don't mind if you feel obligated, I would do anything for your help. I will give you my first born… literally anything."

The witch just smiled, shaking her head. "Shall we take this one step at a time, no need to surrender your children just yet. Perhaps a tour of your facilities?"

"Brilliant. Say around one-fifteen tomorrow afternoon?"

"That's very… specific," said Hermione suspiciously.

"It is… The exact same time as the two Charms classes I need Hermione to teach start." He blushed, avoiding the chocolate gaze with chagrin. "Please?"

The young witch rolled her eyes, exasperated, "Let me guess, Janice is double booked with Transfiguration at that time and Luca doesn't know whatever Charm it is that he is supposed to be teaching?"

"In a nutshell, yes."

"I'll cover it but whether Minerva takes the tour or not is her choice. I'm not going to speak for her," the two women made warm eye contact, "She's my mate, not my property."

A large, hulking man in his late forties with a lot of facial hair stomped a few paces closer to them - deliberately bumping into Hermione with a massive shoulder. "Not yet she isn't!" Utter contempt was dominant in his voice. "You should have just killed her where she stood."

Minerva was less startled by the sudden aggression from the unknown male than she was at the sight of Hermione snarling up at him - her blunt human teeth exposed by curled up lips, in a way that should have been less threatening than in wolf form but wasn't, due to the sheer anger radiating from the woman. Chocolate irises became an intense feral amber, as gold colouring started to bleed into the normal rich brown hue. The man simply laughed and walked away.

Hermione seemed to shake herself, lowering her lip and blinking hard, staring at the floor. The hand holding her empty glass trembled slightly in ridgid fingers.

"Minerva," Benjy uttered softly, "Pull her close. Let her smell you." The witch couldn't help but comply, her instincts were screaming at her to embrace the obviously upset woman. Hermione willingly fell into her arms, tense muscles relaxing almost immediately and she pressed her nose into the side of Minerva's neck, inhaling the warm scent of her witch. "We're a little more… reactive with a partially completed mating bond, she's still in control of herself and normally much harder to anger than that. Those two greatly dislike each other and he goes out of his way to annoy her, whilst stopping just short of an actual challenge."

Minerva handed their empty glasses to the man who seemed to truly care about her wolf and brushed the backs of her fingers down the side of Hermione's face. "Do you want me to hex him for you?"

Hermione looked up with a somewhat sheepish expression, eyes back to their normal colour. She seemingly considered the words before wrinkling her nose in amusement and shook her head. Then the wolf pulled back slightly and made a show of running her eyes over the woman's body, "Where on Earth would you hide a wand in that dress?"

Minerva lifted an eyebrow and smirked, "Secured to the underside of my wrist with a holstering charm and a few concealment ones to boot." Gentle fingers turned the older woman's arm over and brushed across the almost invisible wand.

"Impressive."

"A lifetime of war teaches many such lessons, my dear." Neither witch noticed that Benjy had slipped away, so engrossed were they with the other. The pre-dinner mingling that had paused when Hermione growled had recovered in earnest, but they were still being watched closely, though neither was more than peripherally aware of it. "Who was that?"

Hermione sighed, "The first of the arranged marriages that my father attempted to set up. I came home from Ilvermorny to find myself betrothed to Dimitri, a man… whom I passionately disliked, a feeling in fact, that was and is mutual. It was a situation that only became worse when I broke the engagement." Minerva could only nod in response, she could understand why a man expecting the benefits of a political marriage to a much younger, beautiful woman - one who was talented and powerful in her own right - would get somewhat bitter when told No.

Completely back under control now, Hermione began to introduce her intended to a number of other wolves around the room. Like those she had already met, most seemed accepting of her, treating the witch like a curiosity; some new and novel form of entertainment but a few actually seemed genuinely interested in her as a person. Eventually they were called to the table, for the third of the evening's challenges - polite dinner conversation.