And chapter 4... don't expect three chapters a day regularly. :P Just one today. Enjoy!

Hermione woke, deeply inhaling a familiar scent. It was more than a minute later when she realized that the scent was familiar because it belonged to Professor McGonagall, and it was thirty seconds later that it hit her than she was smelling it first thing as she woke because she was cuddling with said witch. Instinct made her pull away quickly, not recalling why she might be curled up in a bed with the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

And then, she remembered; she remembered the fact that the evening before, they'd married. "Sorry," she whispered, as her rushed movement stirred Minerva from her own slumber.

"It's fine…" Minerva muttered, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. "Morning."

Hermione tried to make up for her impulse reaction by leaning forward again and pecking Minerva on the cheek. She just wanted to assure the older witch that it wasn't her… it was just an adjustment to be had. They needed to make the best of this situation, after all.

"Has working for the muggles totally stripped you of the passion I recall you to have?" Minerva inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione's jaw slackened. Either Minerva was trying to bait her into an argument first thing in the morning, or the older woman was teasing her. Perhaps even flirting. "Well…" she said slowly, eyes narrowing in determination.

If the gasp that came from the Headmistress' mouth a moment later was any indication, Minerva was quite surprised when Hermione lunge forward and kissed her soundly on the lips. As the older witch's mouth opened in surprise, Hermione pushed her tongue forward, and moved her fingers through long locks of ebony hair, coaxing her former Professor into a decidedly passion filled snog, which went on for several minutes before Hermione pulled away with a smirk.

"Better?" she asked.

"Huh?" Minerva said blankly.

Hermione grinned. "Interested in breakfast?"

"Breakfast?"

"You know, food that is generally consumed in the mornings?" Hermione elaborated, trying not to laugh. "The first meal of the day?"

"Oh," Minerva sighed, shaking her head. "Of course. Would you prefer to eat here or go down to the Great Hall?"

"I'm fine with eating in the Great Hall," Hermione replied. "After all, as your wife, it's expected of me."

"Right," the Headmistress said, getting up and heading toward the door that led out to her office. "Come on then."

"Um...Minerva?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Perhaps we should dress first…"

Minerva looked down at herself and blushed deeply. "Oh."

Dressed, and feeling a bit less fluttered, Minerva entered the Great Hall with her young bride at her side. She'd not told anyone who she was set to marry; only that she'd be away from Hogwarts last evening to meet her future partner. She may have made that remark with a bit of a scathing tone, which was probably why none of them, even her ever nosy best friend, Poppy, had dared inquire who had agreed to marry her.

"Good morning, everyone,"

"Morning…" came a varieties of murmurs. No one was looking at her, and Minerva knew it. They were all looking at Hermione, recently graduated star pupil, now the newly wedded McGonagall, who they were each aware would be providing heirs for their boss. The shock would pass, Minerva knew.

And pass it did. One day turned into two, and then the days quickly added up to a week. She and Hermione settled into a routine. They'd contacted a realtor, and would be going to look at a few houses in or around Hogsmeade this weekend. During the days when Minerva had Hogwarts duties to tend to, Hermione was either in muggle London, working, or left the castle for some other, unknown destination. A part of Minerva wondered if Hermione was seeing someone else; they had not so much as kissed since the morning after the wedding. Granted, this was a forced marriage, and even if her young wife did have another lover, Minerva found she couldn't begrudge such a thing. If she'd been seeing someone special herself when the marriage law passed, she, personally, would have set them aside and hoped to reunite after the arrangement was nullified, but she was not young anymore, and she was not so foolish as to think that someone young and beautiful such as Hermione didn't have plenty of offers.

Meanwhile, with their days occupied with their own business, evenings were their time together. Hermione had admitted that, much like Minerva, she prefered a quiet evening with a book, or a game of chess with a friend, rather than to go out on the town as most of her peers would. On the note of peers, neither Harry nor Ronald had returned from their respective elopements; Hermione speculated that marriages entered into with love included honeymoons. Harry could afford to take however long off of work to spend with his fire-haired bride, and Ronald had probably used a chunk of his Order of Merlin stipend to do the same with his new wife. Hermione would have to wait till they returned to tell them about her own marriage.

"Minerva…"

The Headmistress was pulled from her thoughts by Hermione. It was Friday night; they'd already played a few rounds of chess, and had each settled into armchairs in front of a roaring fire. "Yes, Hermione?"

"We need to shag."

"I beg your pardon?!" Minerva squeaked, surprised at the very blunt way her young wife had brought up the topic of their lack of progress toward marital duty.

"We need to have sex," Hermione said patiently. "Shag, screw, fuck...pick a word, but we need to do it. I'm supposed to start ovulating in two days, and I'd really rather not get knocked up the first time we do it."

"Why not?"

"Well, as it happens, I like having sex," the younger woman said smugly. "And if I know you, you'll only have sex with me for as long as it takes to get me pregnant, and I'd really like it to be more than that."

Minerva huffed. "I like sex too!"

"Do you, now?"

"Of course!" Minerva exclaimed, indignant. "I love having sex. I'm bloody great in bed!"

The look on Hermione's face, as if she was trying not to laugh, was infuriating. Just because she wasn't some hot young thing didn't mean that she couldn't...preform. Oh, she was not going to jump Hermione tonight, because at this point, she was exhausted from a week full of the chaos that was Hogwarts life. Tomorrow morning would be busy with picking out a cottage for them to share; to be home to their children to be. Tomorrow evening, she thought to herself. Yes, she'd shag the living daylights out of Hermione Granger tomorrow night, and that little swot wouldn't know what hit her.

"You know what?" Minerva said as a giggle managed to escape Hermione's lip. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight. Crazy witch…"

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