"Have a celebration they said. It will be fun they said." Minerva rolled her eyes at the silliness of the idea that anything with this many people could fun in even the barest sense of the word.
"Maybe try the punch, Minnie? It will help loosen you up some. Make things a little more entertaining."
Those words, spoken by George Weasley, were enough for her to immediately place the cup of punch she had just picked up right back down. Unfortunately, that was the exact same moment that Hermione came over and grabbed the glass, taking a swig. Minerva never even had a chance to warn her. She spun around looking for the Weasley mischief maker but was unable to pick him out in amongst the throng of Weasleys at the center of the dance floor. Her attention, however, was immediately diverted by the presence of Hermione's hand on her arm.
"What's the matter, Minerva, are you not feline well?" Hermione asked, her eyes slightly glazed and her tone a little too chipper for her companion's liking.
Minerva narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the younger witch. Her suspicions that the punch had most definitely been tampered with were immediately confirmed when the younger witch continued to speak.
"Purr-haps I can take your mind off of some things." Here the brunette began to bat her long eye lashes at the older witch. "It would be just claw-ful of me to ignore your distress. After all, one should never ignore a purr-ty damsel in distress." With each pun that fell from her lips, Hermione began to lean a little more toward the older witch. Minerva found herself honing in on the lips themselves and ignoring the vile puns falling from them. Her breath was quickening and her heart beating rapidly. "Paw-don me, Madame, if I'm being too fur-miliar with you but I find I must kiss you right meow." With that, Hermione leaned forward and closed the distance between them, capturing Minerva's lips in a searing kiss. At some point, Minerva was able to get enough oxygen to her brain to realize she had to end this and quickly pulled back, stepping away.
"I apologize. I felt that I had to do something radi-claw to get your attention. I've been overwhelmed with mew-sery for months with you ignoring every sign I've given to you. I was becoming hiss-terical at the idea that this was my last chance." A glassy sheen of what was quite clearly tears distorted Minerva's view of otherwise lovely chocolate brown eyes. The little witch before her had slumped forward in defeat and it broke Minerva's heart. She knew, of course, that this was all potions induced insanity and the best way to fix that was to get her the antidote.
"This is ridiculous. I demand whoever spiked the punch provide Miss Granger with the antidote immediately." The irate tone of the Headmistress cut across the chatter of the rest of the party guests. The newly minted annual gathering of the order of the phoenix to celebrate the end of the war had a far few people attending but she only had one suspect and that was George Weasley. George, for his part, was studiously avoiding her gaze and whistling innocently to himself.
"Georrrge Weasley, give herrr the antidote now." There was just a hint of a thickening of the older witch's Scottish accent when it came to the pronunciation of the r's in the statement and that coupled with the flair of her nostrils was enough for him to give up all pretense of innocence and hand over a purple vial immediately.
"Love potions are unacceptable, Mr. Weasley, were you still a student at this school you'd have a year's worth of detentions. As it is you should very well be grateful you are not." The Scottish witch's ire seemed to only grow with each passing second instead of diminishing upon receiving the desired antidote.
George, for his part, seemed completely confused. "It's not a love potion. It's just a potion to lower inhibitions and render the person incapable of resisting the urge to make puns and other bad jokes." He insisted. This news surprised Minerva into speechlessness for several long moments before she cleared her throat and turned to where Hermione was watching with sparkling eyes full of warmth. Lowered her inhibitions? If that was the case then Hermione very well meant everything she had said aloud and that warmth in those eyes was meant for her.
"What's a matter, Minerva, cat got your tongue?" Hermione snickered.
"No, darling," Minerva whispered, leaning so close to the other woman's ear that her words were inaudible to anyone else. "But perhaps your pussy will have it later." It was Hermione's turn to be shell-shocked this evening. Minerva didn't give her little witch a chance to respond and chose instead to unceremoniously drag the woman from the great hall and towards her chambers.
It was with awe, both at the brilliance of his own invention, and at the fact that he was responsible for the formation of what looked like the wizarding world's newest power couple, that George Weasley watched two of his favorite witches abandon the celebration for what he could only assume would be a much more private type of party.