Disclaimers: See chapter 1.
~x~
Minerva arched her back and moaned softly, delighting in the ache that came from being well-loved. It was honestly the one thing she'd never thought she'd ever experience again after Hermione's disappearance, knowing she'd never give herself to another.
Recollecting the moment she woke up alone 12 years before, her hand reached out unconsciously and connected with warm, bare flesh instead of rapidly cooling bed sheets. It dispelled her fears and she was soothed by the presence of the witch still lying beside her. Opening her eyes, she turned her head to see light brown eyes peering at her from beneath a nest of bushy curls and she couldn't stop the smile that formed. "Hello."
"Hey." Hermione returned her smile with a small one of her own. "That was some celebration yesterday."
"Aye. It was one of the best days of my life." Minerva admitted, suddenly feeling a little shy.
Hermione frowned and turning onto her back, looked away, her eyes focusing on the wall opposite. "I'm sorry, I wasn't able to—" She bit her lip.
"No apologies, mo chridhe. You're still here with me, and that's all that matters." Minerva felt the need to reassure the younger witch.
"You deserve so much better," Hermione whispered.
In the hazy rays of the early morning sun, Minerva saw the tears start to roll down Hermione's cheeks as she cried quietly. "I don't want better," she stated gently, scooting closer and using the pad of her thumb to swipe at the falling tears. She spoke from the heart. "I only want you, lass."
"But—but what if I can't ever—you know?" Hermione asked.
"Then I'll still be content." Turning onto her back, she sat up against the ornate wooden headboard and pulled Hermione close, so she was resting against her chest. "This is more than I ever believed I'd have, and even if I can never make love to you, I will still love you in every other possible way, Hermione."
"But you'll eventually need more and will grow to hate me when I can't give you what you need." Hermione cried. "How long are you honestly willing to let me love you without being able to return that love?"
"Hermione, no! You're my mate, and I could never hate you." Minerva declared hotly, determination lacing her tone. "And even though I want you, desperately so, I swear nothing could make me force you, make you feel uncomfortable or feel unsafe. That would be abhorrent." Her heart broke slightly at the thought her mate had so little trust, and she hid her face in Hermione's curls.
Hermione sniffed back her tears and wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. "I want to keep trying." She whispered. "It's just—" She faltered. "—don't expect too much from me, okay? You need to know that it's not a reflection on you, it's just—"
"I understand." Minerva ran her hand down Hermione's back, her fingers trailing over the length of her spine, stopping before she reached the swell of her backside before sliding them back up. She was truly satisfied simply to have the witch in her arms, to be able to caress her skin and feel their connection. Lifting her head back against the headboard, her eyes closed and she let her mind wander to the evening before.
They'd mingled with their guests and danced some more before kissing Isobel goodnight and making a rapid escape from the party. She'd been ready to apparate them to the Manse, but knowing how much Hermione loathed that form of travel, she'd pulled them to her office to use the Floo instead. That was as far as they'd got. When Hermione initiated a blistering kiss, propelling her from her office and into her sitting room, and then into her bedroom, she couldn't find it within herself to argue.
They'd fallen onto her large four-poster bed and kissed for what felt like hours, and in between kisses, had somehow managed to undress one another. Once fully unclothed, Hermione was relentless, kissing, nipping at sucking at every inch of skin she could reach as she descended her body, her eyes rising to watch her as her breath tickled over her sensitive folds.
Minerva was panting and painfully aroused by the time Hermione finally began to gently lick her outer folds. Spreading her thigh to allow the brunette to settle between them, she quickly found herself writhing against her mate's talented tongue, soft moans falling from her.
Hermione slowly pushed towards the pinnacle of pleasure, while at the same time, not delivering her the relief she craved. And then, rather suddenly, she'd felt a probing tongue lick from her entrance to clit before a warm mouth settled around the nub, sucking it gently. Urgent entreaties of "don't stop" fell from her lips, replacing her moans.
Their intimacy had been intoxicating, and when she'd finally grown too sensitive to continue, after experiencing multiple orgasms, she'd flipped their positions to return the favour only for Hermione to stiffen. The apprehension in her eyes had been enough to halt her in her tracks, even before she'd had the chance to say "stop", so instead, she'd pressed a light kiss to her lips before falling to her side and pulling her close. They'd quickly fallen asleep wrapped around each other.
Shaking herself from her thoughts, she found Hermione had shifted to straddle her lap and soft open-mouthed kisses were being pressed against her chest and neck. Looking down, Minerva realised Hermione was speaking between her kisses. "Don't withdraw from me." A kiss was pressed against her pulse point causing her to shiver. "Don't suppress what you need." A tongue lapped at the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Please, love." Soft lips met hers, and she inhaled sharply when Hermione pressed herself close enough that she could feel the scorching heat coming from between her thighs.
She moaned softly. "Oh, mo chridhe." Her arms wrapped around the witch straddling her and she opened her mouth to allow her tongue to dance against her own. She could feel the tension coiling in her stomach as her breathing quickened and her arousal grew. She could feel the wetness pooling in anticipation of the bliss only her mate could provide.
Minerva let her hands rove over the warm, softly skin of Hermione's back, cupping her firm backside and squeezing lightly, loving the way she gasped and moved further against her.
Hermione stroked her fingers lightly over her hip and stomach, sweeping down between them until her fingers separated her outer lips, coating her fingers with her arousal. When she pulled her hand free, Minerva moaned and watched intently as she sat back and raised her fingers to her lips, slipping them into her mouth and sucking. "Mm, you taste delicious."
Closing her eyes, Minerva whimpered. "Oh, Merlin what are you doing to me?"
~x~
After eating a hearty breakfast, Minerva produced a small hairbrush and smirking at Hermione, asked, "Do you trust me?"
"Of course," Hermione's response was immediate and given with a cheeky smile. "But as you can see, I've already tamed the bush." Her hand gesticulated above her head.
She chuckled lightly. "Just hold one end of this, and close your eyes." Minerva urged, holding out the hairbrush. A second later, she felt a jerk behind her navel and they were being pulled to their destination in a swirl of colour. Upon arrival, she used her enhanced reflexes as an Animagus to catch the flailing witch, her arms wrapping around her securely and pulling her close. Giving her a few moments to collect herself, she looked down at the younger witch and smiled to see she still had her eyes scrunched closed. "You can open your eyes now, mo chridhe." Her smile grew when Hermione opened her eyes and glanced around, her eyes widening in surprise before squealing happily and launching herself back into her arms, smacking a loud kiss against her lips.
"I can't believe you've brought me to Place Cachée." Hermione hugged her again. "Thank you, love."
"Come along," Minerva said, pulling away and taking her hand.
They walked along the Belle Epoque-style street that reflected the designs of the era it was constructed until they ultimately landed outside a particular store that Minerva knew Hermione would love.
"You've brought me to a bookshop?" Hermione questioned, looking up at the sign.
"Aye. Magillard is one of the biggest Magical bookstores in Europe," Minerva stated. "I know they have items you won't find at Flourish and Blotts."
Hermione's smile grew and she stepped into the store. When her eyes roamed around the vast store, her jaw dropped. "Min—?"
"You can buy anything you like, no chridhe," Minerva explained, interrupting her. "No matter the cost."
"Really?" Hermione gasped. "Anything?"
"Aye, we'll always have room for more books." Minerva insisted with a smirk.
Hermione squealed again and Minerva marvelled at the way her eyes lit up with joy. It was as if she'd offered the younger witch the earth, moon and stars combined. "Merlin, I love you." She declared.
Keeping Hermione's hand in hers, Minerva led her further into the shop before stopping. "And I love you." She gestured with her free hand to the books and Hermione gaped at the selection, all of the books were on wandcraft and wandlore. "And if this doesn't inspire you, I don't know what will."
"I doubt we'll have enough room for all the books I find," Hermione admitted, biting her lip and trailing her fingertips along the spines reverently.
"We can just add more bookshelves if we need to," Minerva answered, pulling the first edition of The Evolution of Wandcraft from the shelf and flicking through it idly. She noted a particular paragraph about wand pairings and closed the book.
Hermione had her arm full of books in no time at all and when she noticed her dithering between The Secrets of Wandlore and The Art of Wandmaking, having already picked up a Complete Guide To Wandlore, Wandmaking With Originality, An Unconventional Guide to Wandmaking, and the Wandmaker's Journal. She offered another reminder. "As I've said, get whatever you like, lass."
Knowing it was unlikely she'd get a response since Hermione was focused on one of her favourite things, she gazed around and noticed a colourful display. Stepping closer to it, she saw it held a new book by Newt Scamander, A Child's Companion To Magical Beasts. She placed it on top of the book she had in her hand before moving to another section and picking up a copy of Fortune Telling For Fun. She moved further away and pulled a copy of Transfiguration For The Modern Age off the shelf.
Eventually making her way back to Hermione, she discovered the younger witch was struggling under the weight of more books than she could comfortably carry and laughed. "There's more room in my arms." She teased lightly.
Hermione grinned ruefully and Minerva shifted the books she'd assembled so she could ease her burden a little. "Did you get everything you wanted?" She asked.
"Aye, I picked out a couple of things for Isobel and a new book for me," Minerva advised.
"Fortune Telling For Fun?" Hermione's voice held a hint of laughter and disbelief.
"Aye. I thought I would prove that I support Isobel's ambition to work in a side-show alley." Minerva shook her head and chuckled. "She's a funny wee thing."
"You know she wants to be a teacher, right?" Hermione queried. "That's been her dream for about two years now and I can't see it changing now she knows her màthair is one of the best." She offered her a wry smile. "She looks up to you already."
"She told me she wants to teach History." Minerva lifted some of the books out of Hermione's arms. "I did wonder if perhaps, one day, should Isobel want to, she could teach History of Magic."
"You want to replace Professor Binns?" Hermione looked startled by her words.
"I don't see why not. Cuthbert Binns was my professor, and you are aware of how long it's been since I attended Hogwarts as a pupil." She smirked. "Perhaps the students would enjoy learning our history more if the subject and teacher were more engaging."
"Maybe." Hermione glanced away looking thoughtful. "Have you ever considered having first years learn about wand care?" She blushed. "I mean—well, I learnt about it through my reading, but I know Harry didn't have a clue. He told me that he felt like an idiot when he went through that Wand Weighing thing as part of the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
"It's not something I've ever considered." Minerva shrugged. "I've seen so many students simply grab a handful of their robes and wipe their wand clean, but that does nothing for the scratches."
"Your wand's in good condition. Is it your original one?" Hermione questioned lightly.
"Aye. I've had this one since I was eleven, although I do have a spare. I've always used a balm to keep them clean and scratch-free." Minerva shrugged. "It was one of my màthair's inventions."
"Perhaps I should speak to Mr Ollivander about it?" Hermione mused. "It'd be a great thing for Muggle-born children to learn when they arrive at Hogwarts, or maybe we could provide a care pack with each wand." She smiled. "After all, the wand is a reflection of the witch or wizard it chooses."
Minerva chuckled as she led the way to the waiting cashier and placed the books in her arms down on the counter. "I'm certain Garrick will be thrilled." She considered the merit of such a lesson and decided she would discuss it with the Heads of House. "You know, I've always found the wand pockets in robes leave much to be desired, and it's virtually impossible to keep it hidden when wearing Muggle clothing. If I had a galleon for the number of times I've seen a wand poking out of a wizard's pocket, I'd be a millionaire three times over, and yet holsters aren't that popular, outside of the Auror Department. Maybe that's something you can look into, while you're going about changing the world of wandcraft."
~x~
Their return to the Manse saw Hermione settling into the corner of the sofa in the library, with one of her new books, while Minerva took the time to respond to some letters that had arrived that day. Their trip had been a success, to a point, but upon leaving Magillard, Minerva had caught sight of a flash of stiff blonde curls and lime green robes that could only belong to one witch.
Rita Skeeter.
Signing the last letter, a response to a meeting request from the Hogwarts board of governors the following day, she sent it off with Archimedes and pulled the Daily Prophet in front of her, only to scowl down at the front page, which showed a photo of her with Hermione at the edge of the Black Lake, in what could only be their first dance the afternoon before. She truly adored the photo but was concerned about the article linked to it, penned by non-other than the vile witch she'd spotted that morning.
The Prophet dutifully announces the betrothal of Minerva McGonagall, head of the noble and ancient Houses Ross, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Order of Merlin First Class, to Hermione Jean Granger, Order of Merlin First Class, graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Her eyes skimmed over the rest of the words, which provided a blow-by-blow account of the betrothal ceremony including the promises they made, and the celebration afterwards.
It was a fairly pleasant read until it mentioned that the celebration followed Ronald Weasley's trial at the Ministry, where he'd been found guilty and sentenced to 20 years in Azkaban for sexual assault, resisting arrest and three counts of bodily harm on D.M.L.E officials.
The article moved on with a bitter edge to it, asking how the people closest to Ron, including Harry Potter, could stand by while he was given such a lengthy sentence. It demanded to know how Ministry interrogators could prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, someone's guilt for a crime that supposedly happened years before. It advised the readers to ask the Minister of Magic to reconsider the statute of limitations on such matters. But it was the last paragraph that made Minerva's blood boil.
And as for Ms Granger, always an ambitious witch, if this supposed crime left her so desolate, and was the cause of her leaving this world without a trace, why has she now found it in herself to return, and what spell has the wily witch cast to secure the affections of Minerva McGonagall? We know, from her time at Hogwarts, she developed a taste for famous wizards, but clearly, Harry Potter and Viktor Krum weren't enough for her, if she's now set her sights on one of the most famous witches of the age.
Her hand fisted around the paper, scrunching it up and she ground her teeth in frustration. The article explained why the Board of Governors were now so insistent she attend a meeting and frankly, it was ridiculous that she had to answer to a bunch of ageing wizards that believed they were superior, simply because they were born with a penis. "I'm goin' tae make that beetle rue the day she crossed me." She hissed the threat forcefully through her teeth as she stood and tossed the balled-up newspaper aside. She spotted Hermione's startled look and shook her head. "Effie!"
The small house-elf appeared immediately. "Aye, Minerva?"
"I need you to find Rita Skeeter's whereabouts." Minerva began to pace. "Once you find her, I need you to come straight back to me and tell me where she is."
"Alright." Effie disappeared as quickly as she'd appeared.
Hermione quickly stood and grabbing that morning's Prophet from the floor, smoothed it out. "Shit! She cursed. "Min—" She started to speak but Minerva held a finger up, delaying her until she'd calmed herself slightly.
Minerva stopped pacing. "Yes, lass?" She asked.
"Why can't she just leave things well alone? Hermione asked.
"She will," Minerva assured.
"What do you have planned love," Hermione asked hesitantly.
Minerva smirked. "I'm going to find her, turn her into a flobberworm, and then I'm going to deposit her in the Improper Use of Magic Office," She stated calmly. "I should have done it years ago, but this time she's gone too far." She sighed. "Before all that, I need to speak to Burgock at Gringotts. I believe it's the right time to sell my shares in the Daily Prophet."
"Shit!" Hermione cursed once again. "I'm coming with you, this I have to see."
~x~
Silence surrounded their arrival at Gringotts, upon being spotted, but when Minerva announced her wish to sell her substantial shares in the Daily Prophet immediately, it caused a flurry of activity with both Goblins and wizards alike. The share prices had risen that morning, and while she made a substantial amount on the sale, once word spread and more witches and wizards took a leaf out of her book, the share price began to fall drastically.
Finally stepping out of Gringotts into the afternoon sun, Minerva felt somewhat calmer, but then Effie apparated, and she wasn't alone. Instead, she held a fat beetle in her hand, its head poking between her long fingers.
Drawing her wand, Minerva cast the spell that would reverse the transfiguration from Animagus to human, and a red-faced witch, her stiff blonde curls looking quite mussed, quickly replaced the beetle. Feeling a hand on her wrist, she looked at the witch at her side and raised an eyebrow in silent query at her mate.
"Allow me?" Hermione requested, a wide grin suddenly splitting her face. "Please, love."
Nodding her agreement, she watched as Hermione tugged her wand free and a small crowd gathered, excited by the possibility of a confrontation between the Brains of the Golden Trio, the Headmistress of Hogwarts and the sensationalistic, yet often vicious journalist.
"You can let go of her now, Effie." Hermione insisted.
Effie let go and shoved the witch so hard she tripped and landed on her hands and knees. "How dare you!" Rita turned but flopped back down onto her backside when she realised she faced two angry witches, both with their wands drawn.
"I have warned you multiple times. I will not tolerate your vicious lies." Hermione stated. "No matter how often you paint me as someone using my intellect and charm to gain the affections of famous wizards—"
"And witches." Rita simpered, gazing up at them unrepentant.
"—you couldn't be further from the truth and it's perfectly obvious that you haven't retained anything from the lesson I taught the last time you crossed me." With an elaborate wave of her wand, Hermione silently cast a spell and a jet of red burst from her wand tip.
Rita started to squeal as she began to shrink, her lime green robes turning dirty brown. Within the space of a few seconds, a ten-inch tube-like creature exuding green mucus from either end had replaced the witch.
Pulling a piece of parchment out of her robes with a smirk, Minerva transfigured it into a large glass enclosure, similar to what you could use for a reptile, and Hermione scooped up the large flobberworm and shoved it into the container before wiping her hands on her denim-clad thighs.
Once the lid was firmly in place, claps and cheers greeted them and when Minerva looked up, she saw it was Harry and his children cheering them on. The two boys ran over and peered into the glass. James was frowning, while Albus looked delighted.
"Wriggle wriggle, nasty worm." The six-year-old Albus tapped the glass. "I reckon you belong there." He spoke softly at the glass, his fingers still tapping against the surface. "Tremble, tremble ugly worm. Least you'll be safe in there, 'cause if I catched you, you'd be a squishy squashy likkle worm, 'cause Owlbus go splat, splat, splat!" He stomped his feet with each exclamation.
Minerva gazed down at the young boy and let herself smile, while at her side, Hermione was giggling at his words.
"I see you haven't lost your touch, Hermione," Harry stated, grinning at her. "So what now?"
"Now, we take this to the Ministry," Minerva responded dryly.
The crowd quickly scattered when they turned and started to move towards the Leaky Cauldron together, with the boys walking beside them while Harry followed behind with Lily and Effie.
"'fessor, will you turn me into a worm if I'm naughty at Hogwarts?" James asked nervously.
Minerva glanced down at the small boy with unruly dark hair. He looked so much like his father, so couldn't help but smile down at him. "No, laddie. Transfiguration isn't used for punishment. If you get into trouble, you'll have detention with one of your teachers, and you will either help with classroom chores or write lines." She told him lightly. "I am usually against this kind of thing, but this was a rather special case." She explained gently. The last thing she wanted was for the young boy to be scared of going to school when the time came.
Their arrival at the Ministry via the Floo Network had people parting to allow them through the crowds that always seemed to loiter in the Atrium. Entering one of the elevators, the golden-gilded cage doors shut, and the carriage shot backwards before shooting up to the second floor and stopping to allow them to exit into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement headquarters.
Traversing the corridor, Harry explained to his children that this was where he worked and they seemed excited, demanding to see his office. Arriving at the office for the Improper Use of Magic, Harry continued to the Auror Department while Hermione and Minerva opened the door to see a receptionist manning the desk. Stepping forward, Minerva dumped the tank holding the flobberworm on top of the large pile of paperwork that sat on the desk.
The young witch, one she taught a few years before, looked down in disgust before raising her eyes. They widened comically at the sight of them. "Head—Headmistress, what is this?"
"I believe the question should be, who is this?" Minerva advised dryly. "Rita Skeeter." She announced. "It seems Ms Skeeter has used her magic to become an unregistered Animagus, allowing her to breach the privacy of numerous witches and wizards over the years. Now, I believe it's befitting, as one of only a few registered Animagi, that I bring this matter to the attention of the Ministry and allow them to handle this accordingly."
"Oh, Merlin. Let me just call—" The younger witch grew flustered.
Minerva shook her head. "I believe Mafalda Hopkirk is the best person to deal with this case," she stated coolly. "Is she here?"
"Er—er, of course, Headmistress. I'll just—" The witch stood abruptly and rushed away, casting worried glances at her over her shoulder.
~x~
Their trip to the Ministry that afternoon had seen Mafalda stepping out of her office but stalling at the presence of Hermione, while her mate had turned a little pink and looked down while biting her lip.
Minerva immediately knew there was a story behind their behaviour, and it soon became clear when Mafalda had gestured towards her office and once they'd sat down opposite her, had shown she was vastly unhappy at being stunned, locked away and then impersonated by Hermione.
When Hermione had been telling her about her time on the run all those weeks before, she'd not thought of asking who she'd used as a decoy to gain entrance into the Ministry and a small part of her suddenly wished she'd had the foresight to do so. As an unsuspecting victim of the war against Voldemort, Mafalda felt the need to demand answers as to why it had happened.
Hermione took the time to explain, finishing the story with an apology. "I'm truly sorry for what happened, Madam Hopkirk. I can promise that it wasn't a deliberate attack on you, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Mafalda immediately forgave the younger witch. "Apology accepted, Ms Granger. I hope you realise that I never agreed with what the Ministry was doing, and I cannot fathom how they concluded that Muggle-borns obtained their magical power by theft." She admitted softly. "Unfortunately, it wasn't safe to speak up against the regime at that time." She sighed. "Thankfully we've come a long way since then." She shook her head. "Now what's this about Rita Skeeter?"
Upon telling their story, with Hermione filling in some blanks going back to her fourth and fifth years at Hogwarts, Mafalda looked down at the flobberworm before tipping it out of its enclosure and casting the counter-charm to change it back into a witch. In a matter of moments, the curly-blonde-haired witch was sprawled on the desk between them and she quickly bolted upright, shuffling nervously from foot to foot, trying to talk her way out of being sent to Azkaban. Ignoring her, Mafalda bound the witch, took her wand and called one of the Hit Wizards on duty to escort the witch to Azkaban to await trial. She would spend up to five years on the island housing the prison.
Right now, having welcomed Isobel home and eaten supper together, they sat cuddled up on the couch, the television, on low, offering up the only light in the living room. Despite the events of the day, she was relaxed but she had some questions for her mate.
Minerva extracted herself from Hermione's arms and turned her body slightly in her seat, tucked one leg under her and gazed at the witch. "Have you considered completing the process of becoming an Animagus, lass?" She asked lightly.
Hermione turned, crossing her legs under her. A small frown appeared between her eyebrows. "I haven't thought about it. To be honest, I can't say I want the thing that distinguishes me to be the scar Bellatrix left behind, but I can't see how it could be anything else."
Minerva sighed, thinking about the scar on Hermione's forearm. She knew it was something that still bothered the younger witch since she had taken to casting a glamour on it again. "You know, my màthair was a formidable potions mistress, I'd say she was better than Severus himself. Perhaps she knows of a way that it can be removed." She turned her head to gaze at the empty portrait. Her màthair had taken it upon herself to spend the evenings in a small photo frame on Isobel's bedside table, talking to her about their family history before bed. "If you wanted to become an Animagus, I have the ingredients including the Mandrake leaf, untouched dew and the chrysalis of a death's-head hawk moth, The full moon begins on the 13th. so if you do it now, then you'll experience a shorter period between each full moon and it's more likely to allow the next step allowing the phial it is placed in to receive the pure moon rays."
She could see Hermione considering her words before she sighed. "I don't know, Minerva."
"Think about it, lass." Minerva smiled and stood, holding her hand out to the witch. "Will you come with me?"
"Why?" Hermione looked perplexed and gestured towards the television. "I thought you wanted to watch this movie?"
Minerva smirked. "I thought we could duel, mo chridhe." She saw Hermione's light brown eyes widen in shock. "Unless you're not Gryffindor enough." She added, knowing the brunette wouldn't want to back down from her provocation.
Hermione grasped her hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. "Oh, is that a challenge?" She offered Minerva a cheeky grin.
"Aye lass, it is." Minerva's smile widened.
~x~