AN: decided to make this a three shot, hope you like it. huge thanks to my sorta beta (i only let her have 3/4)

disclaimer- two words not and mine.

An awfully irritating pecking noise woke Minerva from her pleasant rest. A groan emanated from the older woman as she sat up taking in the pleasant twinge and delightful stickiness she felt between her legs, evidence of their randiness the night before. After their little discussion the night before Hermione and Minerva had made love to each other for hours and hours. It had varied with every round, franticly paced sex to slow sweet love making, though every time it had been filled with passion and love and pulled them closer together.

When they had finally stopped Minerva had pondered the bonding magic that had surrounded them from the beginning. The colorful, tangible, swirling magic had bound them together in ways that Minerva though only happened in silly wizard romance novels. Now that they had made love there was no going back, they simply couldn't. The magic was irreversible, Albus had told her as much when their relationship had started. He said that once they became intimate they wouldn't be able to go back, that it would feel terrible to be apart, that they wouldn't be able to be separated. It would be till death do we part. Those were the real reasons behind her reluctance to take things farther with Hermione. She had wanted to give the young woman a chance to change her mind before she couldn't go back.

This bonding would only be amplified by their animagus' rather possessive tendencies. When cats laid claim to things they weren't particularly fond of giving them up just like every other creature in the animal kingdom.

They were now, in a sense, married.

The insistent pecking at the window broke her out of her thoughts, stalking to the window she snatched it open and grabbed the letter from the owl's leg. She tore the letter open and sighed with frustration as she read the letter requesting her presence in London so that the board of governors could speak to her about the large overhaul in curriculum that was being set in place this year.

Shoulders slumped and hand crushing the annoying letter she woke Hermione with a gentle kiss. The young woman's eyes fluttered open and she took in the very attractive sight of her lover standing over her, completely nude and fairly furious.

"Hermione, darling, I have to go to London, the insufferable oafs on the board of governors have requested that I come and have yet another blasted meeting on the changes I plan to make next year to update the lessons. I'll be home around eight if our previous sessions are anything to go on," Hermione let out a groan, "I love you dearie but I think I wore you out last night. Rest a bit longer. Ill see you when I get home."

Hermione said a muffled "iluffutoooo!" before drifting back to sleep only to rise a few hours later. With a sad sigh she got out of the warm cocoon of her bed that smelled of their wonderful night the evening before. She tugged on a shirt and some panties all the while feeling a growing ache in her chest and a burning sensation on her skin that she was sure was because of Minerva's absence. Sighing she decided to comfort herself with an old album filled with pictures of Minerva and her family.

Silently and wandlessly she summoned the tartan bound book Minerva had showed her during Christmas break and opened to the first page. A picture of a young witch with brilliant red hair that reached her waist, sparkling blue eyes, and the same petite bone structure her Minerva had smiled up at her. Behind her, with his hands on her swollen belly, stood a man with jet black hair and a very Scottish face that held a set of brown eyes far darker than her own. Below the caption read "Mildred and Aed's first anniversary."

The next was one of her favorites, a picture of Minerva as a wee babe. Inquisitive green eyes shone up at her from under the babe's mess of ebony curls. A small toothless grin was set upon the rather thin and tall baby's mouth. Above it a now familiar script not dissimilar to her loves writing had written "Minerva Lucille McGonagall, born October the fifth 1919." With it there was a photo of Minerva's family gathered around a little Christmas tree in the small living space attached to the private wing of the house for family. In Minerva's chubby hand was a little present wrapped in paper that said "my first Christmas.

On the next page was a set of photos obviously taken on Minerva's first birthday. The little version of her love had apparently refused to have anything to do with touching the sugary confection placed before her until her màthair had taken her hand and pushed it into the cake. This however caused the little one to cry until her màthair took her frosting coated hand and put it in her mouth, instantly pacifying the upset girl.

Unfortunately for Hermione this activity only made her body ache for her love more so she sent it back to the library where it belonged.

For the next several hours Hermione worked on lesson plans and choosing the graduation robes. As valedictorian she was the one who got to choose her robes so that the school could plan the others around it. Her graduating class was small but full of some of the more brilliant students from Hogwarts that had graduated the year she and the boys had left to hunt horcruxes so she decided that her own robed would be red and gold with a black hat while the others would wear there school colors with white hats to symbolize how she had been the black sheep during her year at the university.

Once Anglies, Minerva's owl, had headed off to deliver her decisions she sat down to write.

Hermione was sitting in their bed just about to start scribbling in her diary when Minerva walked in, taking notice of the muggle pen and vaguely familiar leather bound book her lover was holding. The book seemed to be rather well worn and filled with a great many loose sheets of paper and pictures.

Hermione hurriedly shut the book and set it down beside her, startled by her loves unexpected and early arrival to bed. Minerva had gone to the ministry to confirm the list of teachers for the following year, discuss the updates to the teachings, and to, in a metaphorical way, let the cat out of the bag about her age. Hermione hadn't been expecting her arrival to be before eight and it was only a quarter to seven.

"Love, what was that?" asked Minerva as she shed her robes and dress, leaving her in only a silk slip.

"Mmm… nothing. I missed you so much; when you left I thought my yearning for your touch was going to kill me. It hurt to not have your skin on mine for hours until all I could think about was you touching me," whispered Hermione as she slithered to the other side of the king sized bed and wrapped her arms around the older woman, pulling their silk clad torsos together.

Minerva groaned, partially from pleasure and partially out of frustration. 'Why on earth did the board demand my presence on today of all days? And more importantly why is she hiding that thing? Could it be that journal she always had with her at school? No, it looks far larger than that thing was,' thought Minerva as she tried to keep a handle on the situation.

"That sure doesn't look like nothing, in fact it looks like a few years' worth of something's are crammed into there."

"Min, can we not talk about this please… not everything in there is pretty." Hermione murmured as her lips made their way to Minerva's.

"'Mione stop, we still have to talk about yesterday," commanded Minerva making Hermione look up at her with sad eyes. This woman was going to be the death of her. The night before, after the initial discomfort of being penetrated for the first time, Hermione had been insatiable much to Minerva's surprise. Reluctantly Hermione pulled back and placed a final peck to Minerva's lips before grudgingly scooting back to her original spot.

"Minerva, I don't wanna," whined the younger woman as Minerva crawled on to the bed, laid back on the pillows one arm extended in invitation, and waited for her love to wrap herself around her. It didn't take long, ten seconds maybe, before Hermione was curled around her side, head tucked under her chin, half on top of her.

"How about instead you read me some of the pretty things you wrote in that journal of yours, hmm?" said Minerva as she handed the leather book to the young girl.

"Ok, I guess I should start where the pretty begins." Hermione flipped through the pages until she reached the page she wanted. Then she began to read.

"July 9, 1991. Oh my lord, I am a witch! And better yet there is a school for people like me. I don't have to go but I want to, so I think I will. It'll be fun and the professor who came and told me is so pretty and smart. I wonder if I'll ever be as beautiful or as good at magic as she is. When she first told my parents they thought she was just a crazy old lady but then she did this thing called transfiguration and turned a cat into a bed and then she turned herself into cat. I have so many things to do before I go to Hogwarts I'm puzzled as to where I should start. Well I'll think about that again soon…"

"My, my Miss Granger, did someone have a wee crush since she met me?"

"Maybe…" at Minerva's laugh she smacked the older witches arm, "Don't get cocky. Ok let's see… ah here we go. May 29, 1993. The boys finally figured it out and I'm un-petrified. Minerva came and visited me every night at precisely 7 o'clock, never once was late or absent, and told me about the goings on at the school, all of the things I had missed in her class, and about Ginny's odd behavior. Sometimes she would read to me from Hogwarts a history or from a book in her extensive private collection. Every time she would get to a part about the stone or the chamber of secrets her voice would get thick with tears almost like just thinking about what happened was enough of a scare. She is the only person who treated me like there was someone inside of my body even if I couldn't move. For so long I tried to get her to find the slip of parchment in my hand but it's kind of difficult to do when you're frozen. When I first woke up she burst into tears, apparently they had moved me to Minerva's chambers at some point to try and make me a little bit more comfortable while I woke up, and I don't think I have ever seen a more stricken face. She looked like she didn't know whether or not to be happy or glum. It seemed as though with every passing moment she became more beautiful and distraught. She then proceeded to scold me for giving her such a fright and for walking the corridors rather than just using a patronus like she had taught me so that I could always reach her.

"I will admit that that wasn't my brightest idea but I didn't want to risk her walking down the corridor and accidentally running into it, which in hindsight seems a bit daft seeing as she is a pureblood. Either way I'm a bit wired after all the rest I got and I bet she's still up so I think I'll go visit her. I don't think I'll tell her I could hear her, it will be our own little unspoken secret," Hermione had a stupid grin on her face by the time she finished with the entry as she thought about how she had fallen asleep the next day in Minerva's bed with her head on the older woman's chest after she had a nightmare about the yellow eyes of the basilisk.

"Why you little arse, you never told me you could hear me. And here I was thinking you didn't know how much I cared for you as merely a student."

Hermione rolled her eyes before cuddling further into Minerva and continuing, "Oh whatever lets fast forward about a year. June 4, 1994. I don't want to leave, just the thought of being away from her makes my heart ache with longing. It's hard enough havening to be so far away from her while I'm in the castle but to actually be all the way in France while she heads back to Scotland is enough to make me want to scream. Why couldn't I be normal and fancy Ron, or Harry, or Dean? No, I certainly couldn't and now I fancy one of the dozen people in the castle that I could never have. Ever. And more than that I can't help but feel as though I'm falling in love with her. Every time I'm in the same room as her I feel butterflies fluttering in my belly, my heart takes off, and all I want in the world is to be touching her. I feel something pulling me to her every time I try to stay away. It's pathetic really, but that doesn't mean I want it to stop, no, just the opposite, I never want it to stop. I had tea in her rooms every weekend and on Tuesdays and Thursdays just so I could enjoy the feeling of her presence. Maybe eventually I will tell her how I feel but not now, maybe not ever."

"When Harry said you had carried a torch for me since your third year I thought he was joking. Dear lord Hermione." Hermione flipped a few more pages.

"Next, the quitich world cup. August 23, 1994. 'Minerva, please I need you, it was so horrifying and scary, hold me, please.' That's all I can remember thinking as we ran. I can't sleep now, even as I imagine her holding me, comforting me. Even when I shut my weary eyes and will sleep to overcome me, rest evades me in fear of the nightmares that my Minerva soothes me after when I'm at the castle. I wonder, if I sent her a patronus right now if she would come?"

"Hermione Jean Granger, I taught you that spell so that you could always summon me whenever you needed or wanted me," scolded Minerva. They might be close to the same age in every way and the power might be equally distributed between the two but that didn't mean she wouldn't be upset with Hermione.

"Min, don't be that way, I had only just started to realize my true feelings," said Hermione as she blushed from embarrassment over her juvenile actions.

"May 31, 1995. My body betrayed me today. After a long year of getting my reactions to where I could prevent the majority of them from overpowering my will she has to go and lose her bleeding Scottish temper and make all of that carful training fly right out the window.

"She was furious at the minister but I don't believe I have ever seen a more attractive sight. Her hair was still amazingly perfect, her face was contorted into a mask of rage, and her body was radiating anger and heat that was felt by everyone within a few feet of her. It isn't fair that I spent all year making myself control infallible and she comes in, not even trying, and crumbles it to pieces."

"Oh so my being angry turns you on?" teased Minerva. At Hermione's blush she giggled in what most people would consider a very un-Minerva like way that was almost girlish in its innocence.

"Anyway, May 28, 1996. I went and saw her everyday while I was in St. Mongo's. I spent nearly half of the time I was strong enough in Minerva's room, just chatting with her. I'm back now and she will be returning in five days, just in time for the end of term. She will probably still be using her walking stick but for her just being out and about will be a thousand times better, though I suspect she is going to be displeased when she finds out she can't fly to her house in the Scottish highlands like she normally does. I find it hard to recall a time when I wasn't in love with her. It's like trying to remember all those things people said you did when you were little, that you just can't remember. Wait did I just write love… oh Merlin."

"Well I must say, you are a decisive little thing, aren't you? Falling in love at the tender age of 16…"

"At this point I think more like 11, but who cares?"

"I do."

Minerva tugged Hermione's chin up so that they were making eye contact. Hermione, thoroughly abashed, turned her head back to the journal and began to read another entry.

"July 19, 1996. This is getting ridiculous, four dreams in a week! A BLOODY WEEK! Four highly erotic and arousing dreams about her in a week and they are getting more and more frequent as the new school year approaches. How the bloody hell am I supposed to handle being so close to her when I go meet her for tea on the first day, or when we start having tea every Saturday?

"I only agreed to start this little tea 'date' at the end of last year, before she started showing up in my dreams because I wanted, no needed, the extra alone time with 'my Minerva'. The Minerva she can't be in front of the rest of the student body… the Minerva I crave."

Minerva sat silent, amazed that not only had the girl come to terms with the fact that she loved the professor but that Hermione's subconscious had already started to form inappropriate dreams about her before she had lifted the charms that concealed her age. The older witch was so transfixed by the girl that she couldn't answer, so she merely nodded in what she hope the girl would interpret as a gesture, urging her to read the next entry.

"September 19, 1996. Minerva whisked me away today so I could spend some time in muggle London under the guise of a fake school trip. It was a wonderful day full of laughter and joy and she even let me get our picture taken together with a muggle camera. At first I had been a bit upset and nearly told Ronald to sod off after his not so comical practical joke of a gift. He thought that hexing Minerva's hairpins out in the great hall and charming her hair so that she couldn't put it up was going to be a wonderful gift, seeing as I had told him last week that I wished she would wear her hair down more often, so she wouldn't get such terrible hairpin headaches. Of all the ridiculous things he could do he chose to break he bloody rules and irritate our head of house.

"I saw the strangest thing though as her hair fell from its tight confines, I doubt anyone else noticed other than Dumbledore, but I could have sworn that I saw a younger version of her flash before my eyes.

"After that she came down from the platform, her hair lying in gentle waves down to her waist, she walked over to Ron and gave him a month's detention. Afterwards she asked me to accompany her to her chambers where, upon entering, she promptly transfigured my robes into muggle attire. She quickly followed suit with her own clothes before apperating us to Diagon alley and leading me through the leaky cauldron, onto the streets of London. It was the most incredible birthday I have ever had. It was amazing and unbelievable and awing to think that she would willingly spend her day away from Hogwarts just so I could have an outrageously perfect birthday. She didn't even put her hair up; not even noticing it was down, when we walked through the crowded streets, hand in hand, as if afraid of losing each other. I didn't know that anyone little gesture could make me feel so much, feel so in love as did that tiny little movement of grabbing my hand and not letting go." Hermione shook her head at how much she sounded like a teenage girl, desperately in love.

So many things ran rampant through Minerva's brain as she thought about that day. The pain of having all her hair pins ripped from her head, the joy she felt as the younger woman had dragged her around the city insisting going one place or another, and the slight bit of guilt she felt for masking the outing as a gesture of friendship rather than what it truly was, a reward for not admitting her feelings. That day had been the second most magical she had experienced and she had hardly used any.

"October 5, 1997. It's her 78th birthday so I took out the NEWT level transfiguration textbook I purchased just before the end of last year and to my surprise when I arrived at the 78th page and a not fell out. Written in Dumbledore's distinctive writing I was told someone was hiding a secret that when revealed would reveal my true feelings entirely."

"May 5, 1998. Three awful days have passed since the great battle of Hogwarts and we are still finding dead witches and wizards. With each passing hour more people leave, go home to their families. Ron left today after I told him that the kiss we shared meant nothing to me. Most of the witches and wizards who are helping rebuild the castle work alone but Harry, Ginny, Luna, and I have gone against the grain and formed a sort of group. Together we can get almost as much work done as Minerva and Flitwick can. I've done the arithmetic and by my calculations and determined that with just the six of us working every day the castle could be done by August 31st, one day before the traditional start of term."

"Your calculations were correct."

"May 26, 1998. It's been three weeks and the Great Hall has been restored to its former glory. Ron has stopped speaking to Harry and me and has become a prat. I see him in the paper nearly every day, now that it's back in print, telling exaggerated tales of OUR adventures with Harry and greedily sucking up all of the attention that neither of us wants. The media frenzy has created a monster, is feeding his hungry ego. Minerva and I have started spending time together in the evenings again and I can't help but feel bad that I can't be more joyous when I'm not around her. My heart still flutters when she appears in my sight and clenches when I see her smile. I know that I'm still in love with her and I'm just fine with it."

Hermione was rushing now trying to get to the newest journal entry so she didn't stop, she just went on to the next one.

"June 15, 1998. She loves me too! I couldn't t seem to help myself around her tonight. When she told me I just tackled her down onto the couch and started kissing her. Hard. It was insanity that overwhelmed me as our lips fist touched, consuming me as we moved in sync, the force of our kiss quickly ratcheting up from sweet and innocent to hot heady and demanding within seconds of their first meeting. Tongues began to dance feverishly as mouthed opened. Biting, sucking, licking all as though this kiss would be our last, as though we were devouring each other. Nothing will ever compare to the way I felt, the way it felt to get who I wanted, lusted after, loved."

"Are you going to show me anymore?"

"Yes, the one from last night. I think you'll like that one."

AN: Can anyone guess why i made her middle name Lucille? leave your guesses in the reviews, i would really like to read them. And HAPPY NEW YEAR!