Chapter Two

Minerva eyed Hermione Granger like a predator eyes their prey. She didn't like to think of it that way, but that's what it felt like right now. For the last couple of hours, Minerva's senses had been on fire. It had come on slowly, starting about nine or so and slowly progressed. She had no bloody clue what was going on with her magic, but whatever it was, it felt bloody good and she couldn't bring herself to be worried in the least. Everywhere she looked, she saw people, and she sensed magical cores. It was as if she could hone in on them and somehow detect if they were…right for her, if that made any sort of sense in the world. There were degrees of right, too, and kinds of right. Like she had seen people like Pomona, and Rolanda, and Potter, and she'd known those people were right, but they were a very different kind of right than when she'd bumped into Katrina Wells, a former Hufflepuff who worked at the Ministry, who Minerva had briefly had a relationship with. Katrina also felt right in the carnal sense, but at the same time she felt wrong. Minerva hadn't even bothered approaching her.

For well over an hour Minerva had wandered around, just testing all the different types of rights and wrongs on this magical radar system, feeling more and more drunk the longer it went on. Eventually, Pomona had found her and pulled her aside, seemingly surprised by her intoxicated state. Sure, she'd had a few drinks along the way, but she wasn't drunk. Was she really acting that drunk? She was just relaxed. She tried explaining what she was feeling to Pomona but her colleague was not getting it, or maybe Minerva was just explaining badly. It was hard to explain what she didn't understand, especially when she got distracted by an idea for a prank.

Hermione Granger happened upon them moments later, and bloody hell had that been a revelation. Every fibre of Minerva's magic was screaming right in Hermione's direction, as if there was absolutely nothing wrong with the woman in front of her in the slightest. Minerva objectively told herself that of course everyone had flaws, but in a relationship, didn't the good ones mean that your strengths made up for the other person's flaws, and vice versa? Wasn't that what having the right relationship was about? Could Hermione be that kind of right, maybe? Merlin knew she was a beautiful woman, Minerva thought, eyeballing her arse as the soon to be graduated woman was turned to talk to Pomona.

That's right. A few short months, and this woman would be free and clear and all bets were off. In fact, considering the war and the fact that Hermione should have graduated a year ago, nobody would bat an eye if Minerva jumped her bones tonight. Not a single person. Well, maybe some people, but who cared? There would always be some arseholes.

"What are you thinking about, Minerva?" Hermione asked, walking back toward her as Pomona slipped back into the crowd.

She could feel herself blushing a little. "How candid shall I be? I was just talking about respecting you."

Hermione met her gaze. "Respect me with honesty and we'll go from there. We're both a bit off kilter right now. I promise I won't hold it against you in the morning."

"I couldn't help but notice that you've grown into a very attractive woman," Minerva admitted. "I was thinking about how, if not for the war, you wouldn't even be my student anymore."

"Technically, you stopped teaching last term," Hermione mused. "So I'm not directly under your supervision. And besides the point, I graduate in less than two months. Between the two of our fairly superior intelligence, I'm pretty sure we could manage a secret affair for that long without getting caught… if we were so inclined."

Minerva raised her hand and dragged her fingers along Hermione's jawline, and down her neck, causing the younger witch to moan softly. "Who said I wanted more than one night?"

Hermione slowly circled Minerva, and then ran her fingers down the older woman's back, before tracing the curve of her waist, and finally settling her hands on Minerva's abdomen. The Scottish witch gasped as she felt teeth nipping at her neck, and the sound of Hermione's voice whispering in her ear a moment later. "Two can play that game, Minerva. I'm not a child. If you honestly respect me, and I believe you do, then I do not believe you'd pursue me without some willingness to at least give a real relationship with me a try. I'm not asking for a handfasting…"

"Why not?" Minerva asked suddenly. Pomona might be right. She had lost her bloody mind. Oddly, she was okay with that. She held Hermione's hands, and pulled the younger witch tightly against her body. "Why not handfast? Tonight?"

Hermione pulled away, and moved back around to face her. She just stared for a moment before putting her hands on her hips. "I am fully aware neither of us is entirely sober, but are you at least sober enough to understand the gravity of what you just asked me, Minerva McGonagall?"

Minerva thought about it for a moment. "I'm pretty sure I just proposed to you. And yes, Hermione, the more I think about it the more I like the idea."

"We haven't even bloody kissed yet!" Hermione exclaimed.

The Scottish witch grinned. "Well that's easily remedied."

With that, Minerva moved forward and kissed Hermione Granger. Fireworks would have been an understatement. If Avada Kedavra was how you killed someone, this was the very opposite. This was life itself. This was right in every sense of every kind of reality there was. There was no way in any universe she was going forward in life without this woman by her side.

"Sweet Merlin," Hermione breathed as they slowly pulled apart, panting.

"I'll say," Minerva agreed. "Are there any other prerequisites you have to agree to marry me, or will you just say yes based on that… whatever that was."

"If that was a kiss," the younger witch muttered, "then what's sex going to be like?"

"I could be old fashioned and say no sex until marriage," Minerva teased.

"You wouldn't dare," Hermione challenged.

"My brother is a Slytherin," the older witch countered.

"Minerva, this is serious," Hermione whined. "I've found you attractive for ages, and if I'd had any illusions of grandeur in thinking I stood half a chance with you I may have let myself get emotionally invested in the idea, and perhaps would have been half way in love with you by now, but I'm not there. You and I both know that handfasting is for life. While it's clear we've got some fairly incredible sexual chemistry, we still know so little of each other. Are you prepared to bet both our futures on the idea that sex is going to be enough to pull us through the hard times if we end up making each other miserable in other ways?"

"Hermione, we've been living side by side for seven years, and we've never had a serious disagreement," Minerva pointed out. "Besides, I just have this feeling. Maybe it's Beltane, maybe it's just magic, but I just know. I look at you, and I know. You're my future. I suppose that doesn't seem like a lot to go on, but I guess I'm asking you to trust me one more time. I won't stand in the way of any career plans you have, although fair warning, my brother will try to bully us into having a family…"

The brunette laughed at that.

"...I can't explain it better than that. Have you ever just known something?"

Hermione did know. It had been years since she'd felt like that. She and George talked about it sometimes, and it all but confirmed what she suspected about Nicolas' role in her survival; all magical twins had interconnected magic. They would always know about the other. If they were safe, if they were happy, if they were in danger, if they were sad. There was a next level interaction that nobody else could understand but just needed to accept and respect, and so while Hermione wasn't entirely sure what Minerva was going through, she did know that sometimes magic did unexpected things, and showed people things they needed to see. If Minerva was being shown that a relationship with Hermione was what she needed, then Hermione could trust in that, because she knew what it was to know. "I have," she replied. "If that's what you're feeling, then yes Minerva, I'll marry you."

"No questions asked, no addendums, no conditions?" the other woman inquired.

"You're the Head of Hogwarts, Minerva," Hermione deadpanned. "Some things are sort of a given. I can't ask you to retire, nor can I condition where we live. We'll talk about the children thing at some point I guess. I'm not in a particular hurry for that, but I'm also not against having children sooner rather than later and waiting to pursue my career until later. I have time. Witches live much longer than muggles, after all. Ultimately, as long as we make decisions together, I have a home library, and we communicate, I can be fairly flexible."

"I think I may have been waiting my whole life for you," Minerva muttered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Now we just need to find someone to officiate who won't try to talk us out of it. That rules out Harry and Ron. Probably Pomona too. I think this is the sort of trouble I was supposed to keep you out of, honestly."

"Robert," Minerva finally determined.

"You think your brother is going to consent to you marrying someone you barely know?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Someone who is technically still your student?"

The older witch nodded vigorously. "I'm pretty sure my brother would agree to marry me to a working woman if he could talk me into it. He just wants me married."

Hermione snorted. "Well at least I'm an educated, fairly reputable woman."

"And extremely sexy to boot."

"I think that's the alcohol talking, McGonagall," Hermione teased.

"I wasn't drunk when you were taking your Transfiguration NEWT pre tests last term in the Great Hall and I couldn't stop staring at you chewing on the tip of your quill," Minerva said bluntly.

Hermione stopped and thought about that, and wondered exactly how long the Headmistress of Hogwarts had been looking at her as more than just a student. She didn't get the impression that Minerva was romantically pining or anything, but it was clear enough that she had been repressing an attraction for at least the better part of a year. In fairness, Hermione could say the same. In her own case, she'd just not let it grow beyond that because she didn't see a future in it, and she figured it was much the same for Minerva.

So much for no future.

"Well, if you think Robert can be bullied into it, then by all means, send him a Patronus," Hermione finally agreed. "I'm going to have to meet him at some point anyhow, and I don't fancy trying to find him in these crowds. Are you sober enough to cast one?"

"I'm certainly happy enough," Minerva grinned, swooping in and stealing another kiss from Hermione.

Her body tingled at the sensation. She couldn't get over how much her body responded to Minerva's touch. It was like nothing else she'd ever felt. The rational part of her brain thought that she was being mad for agreeing to marry Minerva on the principle that Minerva wasn't going to have sex with her until then, but the reality of the matter was that she was pretty sure that after having sex with Minerva, she wouldn't want to leave her side anyway. It wasn't a matter of if so much as when, so if that was true, then why not now? Marrying on Beltane was a time honoured Wizarding tradition, and Hermione relished at the prospect of taking part in it.

Hadn't she started this evening out with the notion that she was going to do wild and reckless things? On the scale of wild and reckless, impulsively marrying the Headmistress of Hogwarts had to pretty much top it all. Hermione did like to be top of her class, after all. Who the fuck was going to beat that? Of course, she wasn't going to marry Minerva just to outdo others on recklessness. She did actually feel a draw to the woman that felt… right. It reminded her keenly of her connection to her brother, and it felt good to feel that kind of connection again after all these years. She was not inclined to let that go. Not now, not ever. Minerva would never be Nicolas, it was a different sort of right, but it was close enough. Hermione feared she'd never find anything that close again.

Minerva's cat patronus took off with a bolt, prancing off into the night air to find Robert McGonagall. A few minutes later a tall man with an athletic build approached them. His features made it clear he and Minerva were closely related, although he seemed a good deal more relaxed than Minerva typically did. "So what's your spot of bother, Min?" he asked. "And who's your friend?"

"Robert, this is Hermione Granger," Minerva introduced. "Hermione, this prat is my brother Robert."

"A pleasure," Hermione said, offering her hand.

She and Robert shook hands, and she smiled at the somewhat familiar swell of magic. His magical signature was similar to his sister's, to no surprise, although she noted that his was also close to Professor Snape's, which in context to what George had said earlier about Robert training Snape, made sense. The magical contracts involved in Master and Apprentice training were similar to those used in magical adoptions, and could thus cause magical signatures to mingle and alter, the Apprentice's signature changing to mimic the Master's.

"So what can I do for you two this evening?" Robert asked.

"We want to handfast," Minerva said bluntly. "Now."

Robert looked amused. "I beg and plead for twenty years for you to find yourself a wife, and now you just arbitrarily pick a woman out of a crowd and decide to get married on a whim?"

"In fairness, we've known each other for years," Hermione said, snuggling into Minerva. "This evening just brought to light the idea that we could be more to each other, and we're opting to run with the idea."

"That's a lot of running," he mused. "Legal marriages can be undone. Handfastings cannot. You both understand this, yes? Your magical signatures will be fused. There will be no sobering up and realising this was a mistake. I can clearly tell you are both under the influence to at least some degree."

"Robert, I really don't know how to explain it," Minerva huffed, "But I know she's the one for me."

"Okay, I'll buy that," he shrugged. "What about you, Hermione?"

Hermione frowned, a puzzle piece suddenly coming together in her mind. "Minerva, may I have a word with your brother for a moment?"

Minerva shrugged, and plopped on a nearby bench while Hermione stepped to the side with Robert. Hermione cast a privacy ward around the two of them and cut to the chase. "Is Minerva under the influence of Animus Mico?"

Robert let out a low whistle. "I've heard people call you the brightest witch of your age, but damn. I am well and truly impressed. How did you figure it out?"

"She hasn't had a drink in hours and she's still acting tipsy," Hermione reasoned. "Further, it was how she claimed to be convinced she should handfast with me. The knowing. There are very few people in the magical world who can naturally sense magical signatures and only one Potion which can induce the sense; the side effect of which is apparent drunkenness."

"So you're telling me that you know she's your match just as much as she knows you're her match," Robert breathed. "But you don't have a twin."

"I did," Hermione confided. "She doesn't know. He died when we were eight, so before we'd have come to Hogwarts. George knows about Nicolas, but that's it. In any case, I tell you this not because I'm trying to bust you for dosing your sister, because frankly it turned out pretty well for me, but because you need to understand that I do know what I'm getting into here. I've not felt so strong a connection with another person since I lost my brother. I've always felt a strong connection to Minerva, but when we kissed… gods Robert it was like heaven and hellfire all in one go. I can't walk away from that."

Robert nodded in understanding. "Well. I'll be goddamned. Let's go get you two hitched."

Hermione and Robert moved back toward Minerva, and by the time they reached her, he'd already conjured the joining ribbon. Half an hour later, the handfast ceremony was complete and beautiful rings in Celtic design appeared on their fingers, tattooed onto their skin. They both quickly cast glamour charms to hide them, neither keen on anyone finding out about the marriage for at least the next two months.

That said, they were eager to consummate said marriage. "My quarters," Minerva said breathlessly, as they kissed behind a tree. "We should probably move this back to my quarters… wife."

"Pomona already gave me the password," Hermione admitted, trying to calm her breath so they could walk through the crowd without drawing attention. "Although I'm pretty sure she just throught we'd end up having sex. I don't think she figured we'd end up getting married. Isn't she in for a surprise?"

"We can't hide this from the staff," Minerva admitted as they made the walk up to the castle, now having cleared the crowd.

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

"For starters, your records will have automatically been updated to Hermione McGonagall as of about half an hour ago," Minerva teased. "So they're going to be asking if you married Robert or if you married me, and I'm not really inclined to lie."

"Well there is that," Hermione laughed. "Oh gods, Harry and Ron are going to have a fit. George will think it's epic, of course."

"I had noticed that you'd taken to spending time with George of late," Minerva admitted. "I'd almost wondered if you'd been seeing him. Clearly not."

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "Nothing like that. With George it's like two puzzle pieces that are mismatched and will never quite fit together, but are both missing a piece, so they cling to each other. We got close after he lost Fred. Losing a twin is… you never get over it. Never."

Minerva stopped. "Hermione? What aren't you telling me?"

Hermione let out a ragged breath. "His name was Nicolas. He died when we were eight. I don't generally tell people about him. Nobody at Hogwarts knew at all until I told George, after Fred died. I understood what he was going through. Thus our recent closeness."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Hermione said, shaking her head. "He's been gone longer than he was alive at this point. I miss him. I'll never forget him. Please understand though, that I knew you were the one for me because you are the closest thing to true connection I've felt since I lost him. This isn't love yet. We don't know one another well enough for that. However it can be. I feel that in my soul. We can have love."

Minerva nodded in agreement. "That's my sense as well. Ergo my impulsive marriage to a woman more than half my age. Life is odd, isn't it?"

"Will you resent me in the morning?" Hermione asked.

The older witch laughed. "I have no idea. My inhibitions are, for Merlin knows what reason, out the bloody window right now, but I figure I'll be back to normal in the morning. I'll probably kick up some sort of a fuss. Try not to doubt my sincerity of the here and now, though. I know you've got what it takes to kick me in the arse and push past my defences. Feel free to call Robert in for back up. Pomona too. We may act like nothing more than cordial colleagues in front of the students, but she's my best friend behind closed doors. Has been since we were students at Hogwarts. If anyone can kick me in the arse, it's her."

"Good to know."

By now, they were outside Minerva's bedroom door. "Malcolm," Minerva whispered.

"What happened to him?" Hermione dared to ask.

"Malcolm, along with his wife and two sons, were killed by Death Eaters in the spring of seventy-nine," the Scottish witch replied. "Robert and I promised ourselves we'd rebuild the McGonagall family after it happened. He was rendered sterile about a year later by a dark curse in another battle. He's been trying to marry me off since."

"Took long enough," Hermione mused. "Do you want children?"

"Who wouldn't want children with you, Hermione?" Minerva asked. "You'd be an amazing mother."

"That's sappy, Minerva McGonagall."

They walked into Minerva's quarters, and the older woman led them directly into the bedroom. The rest of the night was theirs. Hermione saw stars as Minerva's lips touched hers.

Minerva awoke the next morning, and was vaguely surprised to feel a warm body next to hers. She sort of remembered coming back from the Beltane festival with someone. Fuck. When she rolled over and realised who she was sleeping next to - a student under her charge - she groaned. Double fuck. Before she had any time to process, the door to her bedroom flung wide open, causing both her and Hermione Granger to sit up in bed, startled by Pomona Sprout's loud entry.

"Good, you're both here. I was hoping."

"Couldn't you have knocked?" Minerva snapped.

Pomona glared. "So sorry, but while you two were enjoying a roll in the hay, as it were, there was an attack last night. There were casualties. Some of us have been up all night trying to find people to ensure they were okay. I apologise for the infringement on your dignity Minerva, but I wanted to make sure you weren't dead."

"Harry, Ron?" Hermione asked quickly. "George?"

"All three up my arse trying to find you, Hermione," Pomona smiled. "So I assure you, they are quite well."

"Robert?" Minerva asked.

"Also fine, although he seemed confident I'd find you both in your quarters," she said suspiciously. "I am curious as to why he was so certain of that. I mean I had some inkling you two might hook up but… oh my…"

"What?" the Headmistress bristled.

"How bloody drunk were you last night?" Pomona asked, bouncing forward and flopping on the bed, picking up Minerva's left hand and examining it.

The Scottish witch looked down at her hand and spotted what had her best friend so out of sorts and let out a small gasp when she found a tattooed ring on her finger. She turned to look at Hermione, who let out a resigned sigh and offered her own hand, bearing a matching tattoo. "Did we…?"

"Handfast?" Hermione asked. "Yup. You don't remember?"

Images slowly filtered into Minerva's brain, slowly filling in the details of last night. She didn't have the whole picture, but it was coming back. "Sweet Merlin. We did."

"Consummated, too," Pomona remarked, eyeing the rumpled linens and their barely covered naked bodies. "Mazel tov. That said, Hogwarts needs her Headmistress, so I'm going to scat while you get dressed, and you two will have to sort out this at a later time."

"Got it," Hermione said, forcing a smile.

With that, Pomona was out the door, leaving the two of them alone and in silence. "Well, Miss Granger…"

Hermione laughed. "Miss Granger? That's Mrs. McGonagall, thanks so much, Minerva."

"I don't think…" Minerva tried desperately to reassert professional boundaries.

"Seriously Minerva, if you think I'm going to go back to calling you Headmistress after having spent the night making love to you, you've lost your bloody mind," Hermione said. "Like it or not, you're my wife. I'll be professional in front of others for the time being, because for the next two months I'm still technically a student, but get real, there's no undoing what we did last night, and frankly, I don't want to. I actually fancy you quite a bit, as it happens, and if last night was any indication, you fancy me quite a bit too."

Minerva glared, huffed, and then threw off her side of the sheet and got up to begin dressing. Fuck modesty. It wasn't as if Hermione hadn't already seen her naked. Hermione seemed disinterested in modesty as well, as she too dropped the sheet and also stood and began dressing. A few minutes later, they were both ready and out the door of Minerva's quarters, entering the Great Hall together, neither really caring about what others might think of them showing up in tandem. Hermione had the good sense to glamour their rings before they'd left her quarters, so at least, that didn't draw attention to them.

"Good morning ladies," her brother said, approaching them almost as soon as they'd arrived. "How was the wedding night?"

She reared on him. "You knew!"

"Of course he knew," Hermione said, smacking Minerva's arm. "He performed the bloody handfast."

Minerva groaned. "Of course you did."

"You were fairly insistant," Robert defended himself.

"Was I sober?"

"Don't think that's a requirement, especially not on Beltane," he remarked.

"You're an arse," Minerva growled.

Robert kissed her cheek. "I know you're pissed right now, but you'll thank me later. Hermione, welcome to the McGonagall clan. Let me know if you need help beating sense into my sister. Anytime."

Hermione laughed a little. "I'll keep that in mind, Robert. Thanks."

The drama really starts to kick up in the next chapter. This baby is just getting started. PLEASE REVIEW!