Hermione was first to bed that night; lying on her front, feet in the air and an open book resting on the sheet. She was spending as much time sneaking glances at the older woman as she was actually reading. Minerva had unshrunk the desk that they had bought that morning and was rearranging that part of the bedroom. The wolf had offered help but was actually glad when the confident witch turned her down, she was desperate that her future mate felt truly at home.
"What are you reading?"
"One of those books Luisa loaned you. This one is about the physiological effects of mating."
"Shouldn't you know all that already?" Minerva sorted the rather large pile of paperwork that had been waiting outside the door when they got home into three piles on top of the polished surface.
"Yes and no. I know the basic overview of the topic, of course, but this is interesting. For example I thought that my pheromones would have little or no effect on you but apparently being a witch means that would be increased somewhat and I'm going to guess that being an animagus will increase it even further."
"Is that why I'm so drawn to you?"
"Possibly." Hermione paused, "Identifying someone as a mate isn't a genetic or personality thing, it's a choice. So as soon as I decided to do so, my body would have started producing the pheromones to make that happen. But I was drawn to you from the moment I first saw you."
Green eyes glanced up from the papers, "As was I. Initially I just thought it was because you looked so different and were acting less aggressively. Now I am not so sure."
Hermione grinned, happy once again that it was mutual. "You're amazingly accepting of all of this."
"Mostly it's easy to accept; a beautiful witch who seems to understand me and wants me for some insane reason, a new but incredibly challenging job, somewhere new - where I am liberated to be, just Minerva, and not all of the other things I've had to become."
"And the things that aren't easy to accept?"
"I feel like I'm running away from my prior commitments. I'm used to having the weight of the world on my shoulders and now I'm free of it, I feel guilty for being happy about that fact." She got up and headed over to sit next to Hermione on the bed. "And it's nothing personal but I don't like not being able to leave."
"Do you want to leave?"
Minerva thought about the question seriously before answering, "No." She laid a gentle hand on the naked skin of Hermione's back where her top had ridden up, "But I would like the choice."
The wolf put the book aside, rolling over and feeling Minerva's hand shift to her bare stomach. She looked up at elegant features, "I'd give you that choice, if it were up to me."
"It isn't though Hermione, I know that and you have nothing to feel bad about, you've done everything possible to make this easier." Green eyes trailed the young woman's body: lingering on her delicate throat, the taut fabric stretched tightly over full breasts, the bare skin where her own hand still rested, another pair of skimpy lace-edged knickers and those gorgeous legs. Minerva shifted position slightly, turning - her own nightwear riding up a bit, letting her hand drift slowly across Hermione's underwear, and then down to trace the shape of the tattoo that encircled her lower leg.
It was an incredibly detailed forest scene; trees rendered in black in the foreground, fading to lighter and lighter shades of grey - giving the illusion that the tattoo actually had depth and was more than simply a two dimensional rendering. Lower down amid the tree trunks of that forest were animals, they were silhouettes and not coloured in, allowing Hermione's natural skin colour to show through. That pallor against the dark background made them appear like Patronuses, probably in a nod to her Wizarding heritage. There were wolves, of course, a stag, a rabbit and a bird of prey in mid-flight with the details of its feathers rendered in white ink - the latter Minerva only saw when Hermione bent her knee and showed the ink on her calf.
"I like this." Minerva didn't have a lot of experience looking at tattoos admittedly but she had seen nothing like it.
Hermione smiled, "Thank you. One of my friends trained as a tattooist in Prague, and is now on the wolf version of a world tour. He's currently working in the Australian Conclave at the moment. He showed me this design when he started drawing it and I loved it straight away."
She took Minerva's hand and guided her fingers to the darkest part of the tattoo, letting the witch discover an extensive ridge of hardened, raised tissue camouflaged under the patterns of ink that formed soil, brush and tree roots. "A scar?"
"I stepped into a poachers' bear trap on the fringes of our territory while in wolf form. I was exceedingly lucky not to lose my leg or my life. Unfortunately the wound was so deep and ragged that it scarred, despite the best efforts of our healers. I preferred the tranquil forest scene to an ugly reminder of human greed and my own carelessness."
Minerva took the hand still touching hers and brought it to her lips tenderly, prompting a pretty grin. "Did you want to get more? Or was this just a one time thing." She went back to exploring warm skin while waiting for the answer.
"I don't think so. I mean I might, to commemorate something important, like maybe as an alternative to a wedding ring," Chocolate eyes anxiously lifted from where they had been watching Minerva's hand, to the older woman's face. "Given the fact that I don't wear rings, for fear of losing a finger when I shift forms." She bit her lip nervously, cutting off the babble and waiting for a reaction.
The witch just smiled. "You were going to explain the difference between mating and marriage to me earlier. Then perhaps we can discuss permanently ornamenting your ring finger."
They exchanged a smile. "Mmmmm I will, are you ready for bed?"
Minerva glanced back at what she had been doing and at the bags of shopping she had left next to her desk. "I suppose that can all wait for tomorrow." She squeezed the calf where her hand was still resting and got up, walking round to 'her' side of the bed. A wave of her hand turned off most of the lights.
Hermione was about to move up the bed and lean on her own pillows when she saw the older witch pat the mattress next to her. The wolf grinned, always happy to agree to an impromptu snuggle. "Did you have fun tonight?" She slung a leg over Minerva's and leaned in closer.
Nimble fingers caressed Hermione's hair and her grin widened when lips grazed her forehead. "I did, actually. Though I think our Scrabble games could get quite competitive in the future, at least when there aren't witnesses." She smirked, "I like your family."
"They really liked you too, the kids particularly are besotted. You fit in really well."
"I thought you were the besotted one"
"Oh I don't deny it." Hermione put her hand on Minerva's stomach, letting her fingers explore the cloth covered skin. "So, given your rather impressive observation skills, did you notice the scars on Blake and Mandy, here…?" To emphasise her point, she kissed a spot on Minerva's neck, high up below the angle of an elegant jaw.
"I did, they looked like very faint teeth marks."
"That's part of how you identify a mated couple, there's a ritual bite exchanged during sexual intercourse. The permanent mark is part of why mating is considered for life. The interaction of pheromones also produces a physiological change, whereby the closeness between mates is enhanced and sexual attraction to others becomes biologically… unlikely."
"And marriage?"
"Pretty much the same as it is for your kind. It's a party, a ceremony, a ring but it can still end in divorce."
"Which is presumably why it is not an option for us?"
"Well we could get married, as well as mated. A mating is mostly a private thing between the two of us, and many people who want to mate will also choose to marry but others would find it superfluous."
"The rest of the mating ritual?"
Hermione kissed her neck again, "We each need to bring the other a prey animal, that we caught and killed ourselves. Given your unique attributes; that could be with a Muggle weapon, your wand or in your animagus form. There's a ceremony where we have to eat a part of the animals' hearts and use their blood mixed with ours to draw some runes."
Minerva's expression was equal parts disgust and trepidation. "Can I do the eating part as my animagus?"
"Yes, most people choose to do it in wolf form, your animagus wouldn't be any different." The young witch tightened her embrace and they held each other for a few minutes before the older woman spoke.
"Hermione, I think that… I believe I… You would look good with a tattoo on your finger."
The young witch grinned broadly at the normally verbose woman's stutter and at the implication of her words. "You think so?"
"And what do you think?"
"Yes Minerva, I'll marry you. Gladly." Fingers gently traced the line of Hermione's jaw and tilted the younger woman's head up. The kiss was like fire, passionate beyond belief, igniting nerve endings, firing neurons, releasing a rush of endorphins and leaving both witches trembling.
The wolf found herself pulled atop the supine form of the older woman; her bare legs on either side of Minerva's, weight braced on one forearm and her free hand cupping the witch's face. Hermione found herself being pulled impossibly closer by eager hands that were on her naked back, underneath her top. The kiss that had rapidly become far more important than breathing, continued to intensify - ramped up by pheromones and desperation.
It was heady and wild, almost feral, inherently magical and felt oh so right. They were both so caught up that neither would have noticed an earthquake. It was intoxicating. Teeth grazed Minerva's bottom lip gently, despite the ferocity that had overtaken them. The older witch moaned into the kiss, her hips lifting ever so slightly up and into the woman on top of her. Hermione's tongue lapped at the small hurt before begging entry once again. It was willingly, eagerly granted and the wolf groaned in delight as her tongue was sucked.
Wanton hands slipped over the shiny cotton and lace of the young woman's knickers, caressing shapely flesh before squeezing full cheeks firmly. Hermione gave a wordless cry of approval, feeling a rush of warmth to her core and ground against the older witch. Minerva lifted her hands, bringing them to toy with the hem of the wolf's shirt - with another person or at another time she might have hesitated, but knowing the woman's views on nudity, she didn't even pause before tugging the garment up.
Hermione shifted her weight, sitting up a bit and straddled the witch, allowing her top to be pulled off. The kiss broke briefly and they stared at each other, grinning stupidly, even as they panted hard. Then Minerva lowered her gaze to devour the younger woman's exposed torso. She let her hands caress the outlines of the young woman's stomach muscles, moving upwards to let her thumbs graze the underside of full breasts.
The young witch found herself gasping, her hips moving as she ground down against Minerva, desperate for friction. The older woman chuckled, a delightfully sinful noise, and pulled Hermione back into another passionate kiss; boldly seeking entry to her lips, tongue caressing the roof of her mouth. Hermione's cupped Minerva's face, holding tightly, pressing their lips together with a bruising intensity.
Despite the need coursing through the animagus, she kept the exploration of her hands to relatively innocent areas. Loving the way that the young woman's skin erupted into goosebumps under her fingers; the way she shivered and arched into Minerva's caresses, it was needy, wanton - completely uninhibited and the older witch loved it.
The wolf tore her lips away, gasping raggedly for a breath or two of air before she began to kiss her way along an elegant jawline. She sucked on the special spot below Minerva's jaw she had pecked earlier, it was barely hard enough to mark the pale skin, more of a promise than a possessive touch but it had the older woman moaning in response and clutching Hermione's almost naked body tighter.
When gentle teeth grazed Minerva's earlobe, the witch found herself thrusting her pelvis upwards, desperate for Hermione's touch. Despite the two thin layers of fabric separating them, Minerva could feel the heat of the other woman's arousal and knew that they needed to stop. Her hand tangled in chestnut curls, pulling the wolf even closer for a moment before remembering that she had wanted the opposite effect.
"Hermione, we should slow down, at least for tonight."
It took a few seconds for the words to register and for the younger witch to stop exploring Minerva's neck with her lips, tongue and teeth. "Alright," she panted heavily against tender flesh that practically vibrated with the rapidity of the older woman's pulse. "Whatever you need." She rolled onto her back, loving the feel of the cool sheets against her overheated skin, bringing Minerva partway with her into an embrace that mirrored the one that they had been sharing when the kiss had started.
"What about what you need?"
Still a little breathless, but under control, Hermione chuckled, "Oh I am absolutely certain I am going to get what I desire eventually." Minerva laughed too, pressing an almost chaste kiss against swollen lips.
Minerva woke with the lightening of the sky the following morning, the days of rest since her escape had done her good and she was presumably back to her normal sleeping pattern. She carefully disentangled herself from the sleeping form of Hermione and slipped from the bed. The witch wordlessly cast a silencing charm on the kettle and put it on to boil while she walked into the dimly lit dressing room.
The mirror caught her eye and for a moment Minerva struggled to recognise the smiling, happy woman in it as herself. She tilted her head to enable her to identify the subtle purple mark under her jaw, the blemish might have been small but it was a symbol of possession there for everyone to see. She probably should have been a little miffed but she wasn't, maybe she needed to read those books sooner rather than later - if she was ever going to make sense of this.
Minerva changed and prepared for the day before returning to the other room. A sense of normality began to return as she settled at her desk, lit lamp aimed down at the surface, with a cup of tea in her hand and began to read through school files. The witch became rapidly engaged in her task and began to make notes.
She was, however, frequently distracted by the mostly naked figure of Hermione Granger. Her wolf was partially tangled in the sheets, tanned skin contrasting against white cotton, snuggled into Minerva's pillow, the highlights in her hair brought out by the light from the window. She really was beautiful. And for the first time, the witch thanked her lucky stars for the quirk of fate that had brought her here.