A/N: This is for everyone that always begs me for a sequel to things. I don't write sequels lol so here're three chapters of sequel :P Much love xx

Also - finally - NSFW ;)

Thank you to Lib McGranger who got this done post-haste so I didn't have to miss a day. Much love :)

NB: When you get there - Eòghan is pronounced Owen, give or take a very soft y sound before the o.

-0-

The Christmas of 1998 was the beginning of everything, as far as Hermione was concerned. She may have loved Minerva before that, but those moments of contemplation and cautious beginnings had ignited their love properly. That Christmas they had spent their quiet, alone time, healing and talking and getting to know each other all over again. She remembered their soft words and softer hands and sighed into her mug.

Eleven years later, she was sitting in their window, waiting for her love to return home for Christmas. Hogwarts had been particularly gruelling this year with so many additional enrollments for that year and the next and Minerva had spent a lot of time expanding Dorms and Common Rooms and making sure that Hogwarts was running as smoothly as it ever did. It was also the first year Minerva had worked with the new Muggle ambassador and though the parent was well suited to the position. After ten years of working with her mother, Minerva had found it hard to initiate the new personality.

Tonight, though, was Christmas Eve and Minerva had a full three weeks off. Hermione could not wait for her to come home. A soft burst of heat from the ribbon on her wrist comforted her but it was not enough.

She noted, absently as she sipped her tea, that the mountains were clear this year. No snow had fallen on the tops yet, but the cold weather had definitely settled in. She had spent most of the day thanking herself for the idea of putting underfloor heating in most of the rooms. It had not been cheap, but between them, it was a luxury they most certainly could afford. A noise from the hallways made her sigh as she sent her cup to the table without a thought.

"Come in, little mouse."

The door opened and a tiny head, preceded by riotous black curls, popped into view. He looked just like his mother.

"Mama?"

"Yes, cherub?"

"When is Mummy coming home?" he asked, his fingers twisting together - a habit, Hermione noticed, he'd picked up from her.

"Exactly when I told you and your sister at dinner," she chuckled, patting her thigh to invite him up. "She will be home before you wake up tomorrow."

He ran to her and clambered up onto her lap, aided by Hermione's hand under his bottom. There were times when he had Minerva's grace but there seemed to be more times when he had Hermione's.

"Is Santa bringing her?"

Hermione chuckled.

"No baby," she soothed. "The students only left yesterday and Mummy has a bit of work to put away before she can come home."

"But -"

"Alex?"

"Yes, Mama?"

"Close your eyes, sweetheart."

She tucked him under her chin and settled in. She ran her hand through his hair and hummed his favourite tune while she watched the mountains. Before long, she heard him sigh, snuggle even deeper into her arms and fall asleep.

They had gone back and forth over whether to have children for years. They enjoyed their time together, alone. They travelled and went on adventures. They took classes together and stayed up far too late and drank far too much on special occasions. They were a regular fixture at Will and Poppy's, often looking after Adie while Lucy found some rare alone time herself. They watched James and Albus for the Potters and then Lily as well when she came along. They really did become the Godparents of Hugo and Max Weasley. But they remained childless until one day, Minerva came home for the Half-Term, with a look in her eyes that made Hermione stop what she was doing and wait for whatever earth-shattering news she had to impart.

"I want a baby," Minerva had said, blurting it out almost without meaning to. Hermione had laughed a little at the panicked look on her face, but she soothed Minerva's worry in no time at all.

"Okay," she had shrugged. The truth was that it had been on her mind as well and when Minerva's wants had matched with her own, it had been an easy decision.

She pressed a soft kiss to Alex' head and got up, groaning as her back pulled with his weight. At three, he had the intelligence they both shared and was lanky like Minerva. His twin, Caitrìona - Cat for short - was more Hermione's build but her eyes shone bright green like the rest of the McGonagall's and had the matching hair as well.

They had decided, quite early, on Gaelic names as an homage to Minerva's heritage; Alex was officially named Alasdair. Cat, taking after both her parents, had talked long before Alex was ready but had struggled with his name, falling short at Alas. And so, Alasdair turned into Alex to all but his Mummy, especially after their precocious little Cat had declared it to be so to all of their family.

Deciding that she had better not put him back into his bed on the off-chance Cat woke up, she plumped up the pillows on their new sofa and tucked him behind the pillows she placed so he didn't roll off. The sofa that had been their sofa had given out not too long ago. Hermione had waved her wand over it absently, transfiguring it into a deeper, squishier sofa to help her sore back and the whole thing had collapsed; one too many Transfigurations had finally dismantled the joints. She'd sent word to Minerva, who insisted she simply buy another and she had done so. But, after so many a long night enjoying that sofa, the dismissal had hurt a little. She let those memories fade as she settled their son. She brushed away his curls and tucked a blanket around just as a cry went up. She scoffed at herself for imagining she would have a quiet night and went off to gather their youngest. Eòghan was a perfect mix of them both. His fairer hair and his slight build made him almost the spitting image of Hermione as a baby - something Jenny had taken delight in when he was born. His eyes though, were the family legacy. Bright green, that took in every detail in every moment.

To be honest, though she would never tell another soul, they had not been trying for a third. After her pregnancy with the twins, which had done a number on her body and had been fairly traumatic for all four of them, they had decided that two was quite enough. And, as usual, in the quiet of their room when the twins had been just-gone-two, Minerva had smoothed a hand over Hermione's hip and started something that she finished off quite nicely and Eòghan had been born nine months later.

In hindsight, it was amusing.

She picked the baby up as gently as she could, hoping to save him from waking properly. Six months ago, Minerva had caught him as he emerged into the world, with his Aunt Poppy coaching Minerva from beside Hermione's head. After the rush and the panic that the twins had been birthed under, it was nice to have been blessed with that. But now they really were done. Poppy had already cautioned her about putting her body through the strain again. She had yet to break the news to Minerva.

She soothed Eòghan gently as she summoned a bottle from the warmer. It had bothered her when her milk had dried up early but Minerva, as usual, had read everything there was to know about it and had proclaimed it to be just how things go sometimes. It had rankled Hermione a little until she'd seen Minerva race to get his bottle when he wanted feeding. And while it still bothered her from time to time, Minerva's love for their children soothed that ire anytime it cropped up.

Like tonight.

Christmas Eve was not the time that they had agreed upon Minerva coming home. In truth, Minerva should have been home three days ago, but she had sent an owl four days earlier explaining that she would be late and that it would be alright.

That she promised to be home for Christmas.

The hall clock chimed midnight and Hermione sighed. Now that the children were all asleep, save Eòghan who seemed to be well on his way, she would lay out the presents under the tree and on the bottom of the children's bed in their stockings, or rather, on the sofa for Alex. She frowned at the thought. Minerva had never missed a Christmas with her. Not since their first Christmas together.

Another burst of warmth from their ribbon only made her roll her eyes. Her patience was running out and with Eòghan gurgling in his sleep, she removed the bottle from between his lips and spent a few minutes rubbing his back gently. He had been an angel for her and she knew she was so very lucky to have been blessed with such an easy-going child after the whirlwind that was Cat and Alex. She placed him back in his cot and tucked him in gently. She waved her hand over the nightlight and sent it spinning slowly, putting dancing snitches on the walls of his room - a present from his Uncle Harry and Aunty Ginny.

Just as she was leaving the room, she bumped into a figure coming in.

"Hello love," Minerva said easily. Hermione didn't reply. She wrapped her arms around Minerva's neck and held on. "Oh I've missed you so," Minerva muttered, wrapping her arms around her. "More than ever."

"I thought -"

"I promised," Minerva smiled. "And I have yet to break a promise to you."

Hermione hummed sadly and closed Eòghan's door as they shuffled into the hall.

"You haven't," she acknowledged thankfully. "Not yet anyway."

Minerva kissed her softly, moaning a little when it turned desperate.

"In a moment, my love," Minerva whispered. "Let me say goodnight."

Hermione nodded and unbuttoned Minerva's robes, helping her out of them and draping them over her arm. She took down the pins from her hair and ran her fingers through it carefully. It still retained it's inky blackness, despite Hermione already finding grey in her own. She told herself she wasn't jealous.

"Go on then Mummy. I think I'll take a shower," she sighed. "They'll be up early tomorrow."

Hermione turned to go. Just as she was out of range of Minerva's long arms, the woman moved and Hermione felt herself being drawn back into Minerva's body.

"I love you," Minerva muttered. Hermione opened her mouth, but in the dark hallway, she just couldn't.

"I know," she muttered.

Without looking, she left Minerva to it, knowing Minerva would find her way to Alex once she'd been in to kiss their daughter goodnight. It wasn't that she begrudged Minerva for her role as Hogwarts Headmistress. She had always promised that she didn't, but with Alex and Cat now at a stage where they were demanding more and more attention and Eòghan being the easy-going child that he was, she was starting to feel the strain of being pulled in three directions. Or pulled in two directions and not having time for, or ignoring, the third. Only yesterday in the fifteen minutes she'd spent feeding Eòghan, Cat was in the kitchen, perching precariously on a stool to get the bag of chocolate coins from the top of the pantry. Alex had apparently helped her push the chair up to the door and between them, they'd nearly toppled over into the bag of flour that had already exploded at their feet and the three pounds of potatoes that were strewn across the tiles.

It had not been her finest hour and they'd been told off quite summarily. As often happened, however, Hermione had immediately regretted it and taken them into her arms and explained that all they had to do was ask her. And if they could have something they wanted, she would get it for them and if they could not, she would explain why and they would do their best to work out what they could have instead.

Minerva, it seemed, never lost her temper with them. She'd play and frolic and then she'd discipline too, but no matter what happened, she would speak to them calmly and rationally until they understood.

It grated on her that she could not seem to do the same.

Cool air swirled around her feet and she blinked through the spray to see Minerva stepping in with her.

"You don't mind, do you darling?"

"No," she said tiredly.

Minerva's arms wrapped around her middle and Hermione sighed as her love's bare breasts pressed into her back.

"What has you so gloomy on Christmas Day?"

"Nothing," Hermione sighed. "Just tired."

She hummed as Minerva's hands started creeping up her stomach and arched just a little as they cupped her breasts.

"Too tired?" Minerva asked gently.

Hermione ached to say that she wasn't, but she could already feel the exhaustion creeping in and the prospect of having the twins slam open the door at five in the morning was a huge consideration.

"Perhaps," she whispered, not willing to speak it quite so loud.

"Alright," Minerva said, sounding cautious. She let go and Hermione's heart squeezed painfully. "Let me take care of you, then."

Hermione didn't have it in her to argue and she let Minerva take control. By the time the washcloth had run all over her body, there were tears building in her eyes and when Minerva started massaging shampoo into her scalp, she burst into tears.

"Love," Minerva said desperately, helping to rinse her hair quickly. "What is it?" Hermione shook her head as the last of the shampoo washed away. "Please, Hermione. Talk to me."

"I miss you," she cried, pushing Minerva's hands away, angry at herself for being so weak. "I miss you, every moment of the day. I turn to you to tell you something Eòghan has achieved, or something Cat said that was so funny or so smart and something tremendously terrifying but so brave that Alex has done and you're just not there. They ask me all the time when Mummy is coming home and honestly I never know. Every day blurs into one and I'm so sick of it and I -" she cried into her hands. "I don't want to hate them. I love them with every fibre of my being but I am so sick of doing this on my own."

"Shh," Minerva said, pulling Hermione against her chest. "Shh. I know, my love. I know."

Hermione wept. Minerva shuffled them back and let the water keep them warm as they swayed in nothing but their skin. As the tears dried and the fog cleared from her mind, something about Minerva's words bothered her and she looked up to find Minerva's sad smile.

"I'm retiring," she said gently.

Hermione gaped.

"You're -" she shook her head, thinking that perhaps the water was garbling the words. "You're what?"

"Retiring," Minerva said louder, her hands stroking up and down Hermione's spine. "I noticed last time I was home that you were sinking in on yourself and I have been doing my best to wrap everything up. Filius is going to take over. I had actually planned on surprising you all tomorrow with the news."

"You just -"

"You and the children are everything to me. I am well aware of my shortcomings, Hermione. You think, after all these years, I can't read your mood from your letters? That I can't feel what you feel through our ribbons? Hermione, I have failed you."

"No," Hermione almost yelled, cupping Minerva's cheek. "No. Not at all. I am the one -"

"I asked you for children and you," Minerva kissed her softly. "Gave them to me," she smirked. "And then some. Then, I left you to bring them up alone, while I went to live in the Castle and pretend like I didn't have you and three babies waiting for me at home."

"Min -"

"It's alright. I had a few very frank discussions with Poppy in these last few months. Lucy told her."

"Oh," Hermione said, pulling away. "I'm -"

Minerva bent a little to meet Hermione's eyes and took her hands in her own.

"I wish you had told me."

"You were busy. It was during the conference, I didn't want to -"

"Hermione," Minerva said sadly. "We have always been honest with each other, have we not?"

"Yes," she muttered.

"You could have told me."

"You're right," Hermione groaned. "I should have told you."

The incident they were speaking off happened a number of months ago. Eòghan had been barely a few months old and after no particular incident to speak of, Hermione had turned up at Lucy's door and dropped off the twins in floods of tears. She had returned apologetically an hour and a half later and when asked, she said that she needed a short break. Even now, thinking back on it, Hermione could not pick one thing or other that might have been the reason.

Apparently begging Minerva's niece not to say anything had not really worked. Nor should it have, had Hermione been thinking clearer.

"It is a moot point now, my darling. I will retire at the end of the year but for now, you have me for eight glorious weeks."

"Eight?" Hermione's breath hitched.

"I have a lot of holiday time to use that that I was unaware of. I will need to go back a few times here and there but I expect we will make a great deal of money when they pay it all out."

"Eight weeks," Hermione repeated.

"You could go away for a while if that is what you wished? I know you wanted to -"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"To get away? I can stay and you can -"

"You think I -"

Hermione shut off the water and slapped back the curtain, getting out without preamble. She ripped the towel from the wall and wrapped it around her body, leaving Minerva to fend for herself. She slammed the drawers to their dresser as she tried not to explode. That Minerva thought she needed time from their family and that they needed time apart. When they had been nothing but apart for so long. She pulled on her pyjamas and got into bed, punching her pillow even as her heart broke.

"I have hurt you," Minerva whispered as she joined her in bed not long after. Hermione didn't speak, but she could tell Minerva knew she was awake. "Please speak to me."

"Why, you've already decided everything."

That was designed to hurt and immediately felt awful. She shook her head and turned.

"Remember our first Christmas as a couple, after the war?" Minerva nodded. "Well, now I am spoiling for a fight. I apologise."

Minerva sighed and brushed Hermione's hair back.

"Honestly?" Minerva asked her. Hermione nodded. "I feel like I have let you down in every conceivable way. I asked you for children. Made children with you, then left you to raise them. I come back here, like a hero, to be the exciting one. To take them to exciting places, to do none of the hard work. And you let me, because you love me. I have failed you in the basest possible way."

"I have failed you," Hermione sighed. Minerva looked scandalised and Hermione held up her hand to forestall the argument. "You were right. We have always been honest with each other. To a fault, sometimes, and I was not. I once asked if it would always be perfect and you said it would be perfect in different ways and I wanted to assume this was just me, struggling with something, but -"

"We are a partnership, a team." Minerva picked at her fingers, something Hermione had only seen her do infrequently since they'd been together.

"I'm sorry," they said to each other in unison.

Hermione smiled and opened her arms. Minerva practically threw herself into them and after a little wrestling with the covers, they lay entwined with each other in a way that made Hermione's residual sadness melt away.

"I love you," Minerva whispered against her neck. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making this up to you."

"Don't," Hermione shook her head. "Please don't. Let's," she gathered Minerva's curls up in her hands and watched as they fell this way and that. "Let's agree that we both made mistakes and begin anew. From this moment on." Minerva went to argue but Hermione kissed her instead. "I could have asked Mum to stay. Or I could have spoken to Lucy or Ginny. I isolated myself, for fear of looking like a failure." She scoffed. "These babies are our greatest achievement and I didn't want to fail."

"You love them," Minerva whispered, leaning up, on her elbow, so she could look at Hermione properly. "You could not fail them, because you love them."

"I promise to talk to you about things that I'm struggling with," Hermione said softly. "I promise to always come back," she echoed words they'd spoken so long ago. "To here," she added, her fingertips brushing over the skin above Minerva's heart. Her thumb lingered on one of the circular scars as she remembered almost losing Minerva before she was even hers.

"I promise that I will never leave you again. Physically or emotionally or mentally."

"Deal," Hermione smiled, feeling lighter already.

They lay like that for a while, before Hermione felt Minerva's lips caress the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

"Minerva," Hermione chuckled.

"Just reminding you of the things I feel for you."

"I know exactly the things you feel for me," Hermione smirked. "It happens to be quite similar to what I feel for you."

"Quite?" Minerva asked, aghast.

Hermione laughed for the first time in a long time and leaned up, capturing Minerva's lips with her own. Deciding she didn't care whether they had to be awake in a few hours. She had missed this. Hermione slid her tongue between Minerva's and started unbuttoning the tartan sleep shirt Minerva preferred in winter.

The noises Minerva made under Hermione's ministrations sent shivers down her spine and she lost patience with the pace her fingers moved at.

She whispered a spell that left them both bare and moaned salaciously as Minerva's body pressed against hers. Minerva's hands were not idle but Hermione wanted this more. She wrapped her leg around Minerva's hip and pushed Minerva sideways, rolling them over and ending up leaning over Minerva, with her hair to one side, her centre pressing against Minerva's stomach.

Minerva's hands were clenching at her sides, as they had always done at the prospect of touching Hermione's body. Hermione caught them and kissed her palms before entwining their fingers and placing them above Minerva's head.

"Love," Minerva gasped as Hermione rolled her hips.

Hermione kissed her deeply, her tongue sliding along Minerva's in a dance they had perfected countless years ago. Minerva tried to lead, as Hermione had let her so often, but she pulled back, smirking.

"Tonight is mine," Hermione whispered.

In the soft light from the bathroom, she saw Minerva's eyes darken. She pressed kisses along Minerva's jaw, allowing her to arch her neck. She sucked possessively on that spot over her pulse and then bit down on the tendon straining above her clavicle.

"Urgh," Minerva grunted, her legs dropping open.

"Eager?" Hermione whispered.

"I've missed you so."

"How much," Hermione asked, feeling naughty. "How much have you missed me, lover?"

Minerva couldn't speak as Hermione's nipples brushed Minerva's. She felt the trembling muscles beneath her thighs and kissed beneath Minerva's chin and slid her hands down Minerva's arms as she slid down her body.

She watched as Minerva's nipples hardened further under her gaze and she drew circles around one with her tongue.

"Oh fuck," Minerva breathed. Hermione smiled as she pulled that same nipple between her lips. She loved making Minerva lose her decorum. When they first started making love and had all the energy and all the time, she would make a game of it. Trying to make Minerva break became her favourite pastime and it was only a little surprising to see her give in so early.

"I've missed you," Hermione muttered against sinfully soft skin. "In our bed, beneath my lips."

She raked her fingernails down Minerva's ribs softly and smirked as her hips bucked. There was something so sensual about making Minerva writhe and she could feel herself painting the skin below Minerva's belly button.

"Love," Minerva muttered. "Please."

Hermione sucked hard on the other nipple and forgave Minerva for forgetting that her hands were supposed to stay above her head. Strong fingers gripped her hair and she moaned when they pulled.

"Kiss me," she mumbled. Hermione did and let her fingers meander down to Minerva's hip and then between them.

"You're soaked," she muttered before Minerva plundered her mouth.

Hermione slid her fingers between Minerva's lips, sliding over to straddle Minerva's thigh for better leverage. The strong muscles helped with the pressure and she was the one to groan now as Minerva pushed up against her.

She circled Minerva's clit for a short while but they needed no preamble. She slid her fingers inside, deep into Minerva and groaned as Minerva fell into orgasm immediately. The clenching around her fingers went straight to her own body and she rocked in time with Minerva as she sought more pleasure.

Knowing she might never be done, she slid her fingers in and out, using her knee on the back of her hand to press even closer. Minerva's hands, which had been gripping the bedsheets, went to Hermione's hips and she held on tightly as they rocked together.

As she heard Minerva's breath change, her own body rejoiced in having her lover back home and Minerva jerked up pressing suddenly right where Hermione needed it.

"Minerva!"

She squealed as their rhythm fell and their body's basic needs took over. She rocked quickly against Minerva's thigh and used the motion to help tip Minerva into another. Hermione threw her head back as her body replied, covering Minerva's thigh with their love.

She fell onto Minerva's chest, breathing hard and listened to Minerva's heart thump wildly on her chest. As it slowed, Hermione looked up into wild eyes.

"My turn," Minerva growled.