Chapter 11
Hermione awoke early, smiling softly as she felt Minerva's warm body spooned against hers. She felt safe in these arms. And loved. Flashes of their lovemaking over the last few days invaded her mind, and her body heated up. Minerva was an amazing lover. They did little more than make love, sleep, and eat. Although Hermione knew that it would not always be this way, she was enjoying their honeymoon phase. Exploring Minerva's body, experimenting with what brought the most pleasure to the older woman, was exhilarating. Hermione had spent hours tasting every part of Minerva's body, licking, nipping, sucking. The sounds Minerva made, the way her eyes flashed and her body moved, captivated Hermione.
It seemed Minerva felt the same way. Hermione submitted willingly to Minerva's touch, enthralled by how she made her feel. And through this new level of intimacy, they grew closer. It fed into their interactions where often one anticipated the other's needs, and it fed into the way they moved together, knowing just how to please and fulfill.
Although it was too early to mention soul-mates or bonding, marriage or even living together, Hermione knew her heart belonged to Minerva. She simply could not fathom existing without the older witch sharing her life. In her heart and mind she pledged herself fully to Minerva and waited for the day she could voice such pledges aloud.
When they were not making love or recuperating from their energetic couplings, they talked. Minerva was intrigued by Hermione's animagus form, in particular. She insisted that Hermione change into it every day so that her body would adapt more easily to this new dimension of her existence. As usual, Minerva's advice was sound. Hermione was finding that she could shift into her animagus form quite easily now, and she was becoming less tired after each transformation.
Minerva's fascination was partly due to the fact that no one's animagus had ever been a magical creature before. She was unsure what that meant for Hermione while in her human state. Would it extend her life? Was Hermione, in effect, immortal? Would some of the phoenix's abilities translate over to Hermione when she was not in her animagus form? Would Hermione be able to extend another's lifespan through her magical phoenix tears? So many questions, and it seemed that only time would reveal the answers.
They had stood in front of Albus Dumbledore's portrait just last week, firing questions at him while he sucked on sherbet lemons. He had seemed just as intrigued as Minerva was. Unfortunately, he could provide little new information, although he had regaled them with several Fawkes-related stories. Now I know what phoenixes like to eat, Hermione thought sourly.
Well, he had shed some light on her abilities, at least. She had seen first-hand how her phoenix tears could heal a person and how she could apparate and disapparate at will, regardless of the location. In addition, he had speculated that she should be able to survive a Killing Curse and could be reborn through the ashes of her death while in her animagus form. Hermione had mixed feelings about that—after all, how would she ever know unless she were killed? She neither wanted to rely on speculation, nor wanted to believe that she would be reborn—not at the risk of it turning out not to be true. After all the speculation, Dumbledore had finally confirmed her own thoughts: only time would reveal the full extent of her animagus abilities and how they would affect her lifespan.
Hermione smiled as she remembered Minerva's reaction to the phoenix quill she had gifted her. She needn't have worried that Minerva would find the gift lacking since it was homemade. Instead, Minerva's emerald eyes had glistened with tears as she had confirmed how touched she was by Hermione's willingness to share such a personal aspect of herself.
Hermione had not brought up her need to register her animagus form, even though it dogged her thoughts more often than she wished. Hermione was not ready to voice her concerns just yet. As her thoughts began to slide toward her insecurities and fears concerning revealing her animagus form to the wizarding community, she heard movement beside her, and well-known arms pulled her closer into the warm body of her lover.
"Today is the Weasleys' holiday party," Minerva said, her voice raspy. Hermione's ministrations had caused Minerva to scream several times into the night, no doubt causing her hoarseness. Smirking, Hermione rubbed her hand over Minerva's forearm, wrapped tightly around her torso.
"Yes. I suppose we will have to venture out of your bed," Hermione said lightly.
"Our bed, I hope," Minerva murmured, nipping at Hermione's earlobe.
"Mmmm. I will remain in it for as long as you want me," Hermione said softly, tilting her head to grant better access to her neck.
"Forever, then," Minerva replied, her Scottish lilt tickling her ear.
"Then it's settled." Hermione turned in Minerva's arms, intent on ushering in the day properly. She met inviting lips and forgot everything else.
After apparating to just out front of the Burrow, Hermione saw welcoming lights streaming through frosted windows. Her hand was taken and squeezed gently. "Ready?" she heard. Nodding, they traveled up the walkway quickly.
Words of welcome greeted them, none questioning the fact that they had arrived together. Harry hugged her tightly and flashed a knowing smile, making Hermione blush. He had made a habit of inquiring about Minerva over the months. He was a true friend, noticing how Hermione had become happier as her relationship with Minerva progressed. He had taken one look at her and guessed when they had crossed the line from friendship to love interest. Often he commented on how much more alive she seemed, how she lit up whenever Minerva's name was mentioned, and how she exuded happiness. Hermione could not disagree.
Although Minerva was swept away by the elder Weasleys while the younger generation dominated Hermione's attention, she often felt compelled to look around, only to find green eyes trained on her. Each time she felt the love pulsating between them, and an involuntary smile would light up her face.
Harry nudged her and smiled when he witnessed one of their exchanges. He leaned in and said in a soft voice, "I take it your vacation has gone well."
"Yes." Hermione agreed. "It's all I could have hoped for and so much more. I can hardly believe it."
"That's brilliant, Hermione. I am happy for you," Harry said.
"What's brilliant?" Ron said as he interrupted their conversation. He handed out glasses and filled them halfway with firewhiskey before sinking in a chair on the other side of Hermione. They were in the living room, relaxing after having feasted on a variety of delicious foods. Hermione had not had the good fortune to sit next to Minerva, instead bracketed between Ginny and Ron, and she felt the separation from her lover keenly. Now here was Ron again dominating her time and attention.
"Oh, I was congratulating Hermione on one of the lessons she gave at Hogwarts," Harry said jovially. "Hey, Ron, do you remember during fifth year when you transfigured a moustache on your face?"
"Oy! That was a nightmare. What about when you changed your eyebrow to bright yellow?" Ron countered as he took a sip from his cup.
They bantered back and forth, and Hermione was glad for Harry's quick thinking. She was unsure how Ron would react when he discovered her relationship with Minerva. It didn't help that he kept trying to engage her in conversation. She went along with it, though, because she did want to remain friends with him. She missed him.
"Hermione, are you listening?" Ron said as his hand landed on her knee.
"What? I'm sorry, Ron. I was just thinking. What did you say?" Hermione said.
"I said I stopped by Hogwarts yesterday, but you weren't there. Where were you?"
Hermione's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "Why didn't you send an owl?" she deflected.
"It was a last-minute decision. I was at Diagon Alley visiting George, and it made me think of Hogwarts. I thought it would be a nice surprise," he answered.
"How is it in Diagon Alley? I would think that most of it is trashed," Harry interjected.
"Yeah, but the businesses are starting to rebuild. Hey, the Leaky Cauldron is open, so it's not all bad," Ron joked.
"If you'll excuse me," Hermione said as she rose. "These drinks go right through me," she said as she raised her glass. Of course, it was still half full, but she doubted Ron would notice. "I'll be right back." Instead of walking toward the loo, however, Hermione stepped out into the frigid air. She just needed a moment to herself. It was rather warm in the Burrow. Hermione smiled as she realized she had become used to the Scottish weather.
Hearing the door open behind her, she turned with a smile, expecting to see Minerva. Instead, Ron joined her. She tried to hide her disappointment by turning her head toward the dark sky.
"What are you doing out here, Hermione? It's freezing!" Ron said.
"I just needed some air," she replied. "But you are right. Let's go in." Hermione extended her hand to open the door, only to have it intercepted by Ron. She looked at him askance.
"Hermione, are you sure you didn't come out here with the intention of having me follow you? I mean, you must have known I was watching you," Ron said as he rubbed her hand and stepped into her space.
"No, Ron." Hermione placed a hand on his chest to forestall his actions. "You have the wrong idea. I am so sorry if I did anything to make you believe otherwise, but my feelings have not changed for you. I only want to be your friend."
"But, Hermione," Ron pleaded, "we could be so good together. We've known each other for years, and I promise I'll treat you as you deserve."
Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ron. I am sure you'll find someone else, someone who will welcome your affections. But me, I can't." She saw the disbelief in Ron's eyes. She knew he did not want to accept her words, but he would have to. She had given her heart to Minerva.
She pulled her hand out of his grasp and began to open the door, only to have the door blocked. She looked up just as Ron pulled her close and kissed her fiercely. She tried to move her head, but his hands held it still. When he tried to invade her mouth with his tongue, she kept her lips firmly closed. With all her might she pushed at his chest, breaking the unwanted kiss. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and shouted, "Ronald Weasley, how dare you!"
A figure opening the door stopped Hermione's impending tirade. Sharp green eyes read what had occurred, and they blazed as she turned toward Ron. "Tell me why I should not hex you now," Minerva said in a low voice, her arm pulling Hermione back against her chest in a possessive stance that spoke volumes about their relationship. Hermione sank into the solid body and rested her arms around the strong forearm wrapped around her waist, standing silently.
Ron stood in shock, his eyes moving between Hermione and Minerva for several moments. "Blimey! You've got to be joking!" he exclaimed.
"I warn you, I am not," Minerva said vehemently.
Putting up his hands in a surrender position, he backed toward the door. "I didn't know. Really. I never would have…Hermione, tell her! I thought you just needed to know that I was still interested, that you needed some incentive to reveal your own feelings."
"And the stolen kiss? Was that supposed to act as an incentive?" Minerva mocked.
Ron ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. "I'm sorry." He looked at Hermione. "I really am."
"Hermione?" Minerva said softly.
Rubbing the arm soothingly, Hermione nodded. "He's a prat, but he's also my friend." She looked at Ron. "If you want to remain my friend, you won't try something so stupid again." She watched Ron nod repeatedly and nearly felt bad for him. After all, it wasn't as if he had known that she was involved with someone else, much less with Minerva.
As if to counteract such thoughts, Minerva turned her so that they faced each other. "No one has the right to touch you without your consent. I will abide by your wishes this time, but in future, if he lays a hand on you without your permission, he will answer to me."
Before Hermione could respond, Minerva swooped in to claim a kiss. Unlike with Ron, Hermione welcomed it, quickly becoming caught up in the passion. She lost herself in the meshing of their lips, the rubbing of that talented tongue against hers, the taste of Minerva. Being kissed in front of Ron to warn him off aroused her all the more, knowing that Minerva's possessive streak had overcome any reticence that others know they were together. Although Minerva had mentioned that she did not mind others knowing and had even revealed their relationship to Filius, Hermione had remained skeptical.
Well, Minerva had just proved her spectacularly wrong.
After thoroughly tasting Hermione's mouth, Minerva lifted her head slightly. Hermione blinked several times, feeling her body ache with need. A gentle hand rubbed her back slowly as winter-green eyes watched her closely.
"Merlin! That was one hell of a kiss, Minerva," Hermione breathed.
"I'll say," Ron muttered.
Realizing that they still had an audience, Hermione cleared her throat nervously and turned her head toward him. "Um, right. So, no more inappropriate advances, then?" she asked.
"You have my word," Ron sighed, his shoulders slumped. Hermione ignored his defeated stance, hoping he would bounce back quickly.
"Then let's get back inside. It is cold out here," Hermione said with a smile. Not that she was cold in the least. That kiss had warmed her up quite sufficiently.
Ron entered the house without another word. Hermione looked back at Minerva and smirked at her behavior. Before she could tease Minerva, though, she found herself being kissed breathless again. When Minerva pulled back, the older witch's face held the smirk.
"Good God, are you trying to drive me absolutely crazy? All I want to do is tear off your clothes," Hermione declared.
"In a few hours you may do whatever you wish to me, love," Minerva replied, a twinkle in her eye.
"Remember that," Hermione directed. "I will have you begging for my touch by the end of the night."
"Dear, how would that make tonight different from any other night?" Minerva countered with a smile.
Hermione's peal of laughter floated through the air. "How indeed. Shall we go in?" she asked. When Minerva nodded, Hermione opened the door and led the way back into the house. Looking around she saw all eyes on her. On them.
Only Ron, whose back was to the door, was still talking to Harry. "What kind of friend are you? Didn't it occur to you that I should know that Hermione and Old McGonagall are together? I mean, bloody hell! How would I have ever guessed that?"
"Perhaps if you had eyes," Harry muttered.
"Oh, right. Go ahead and joke. Thanks, mate," Ron said crossly.
"Ron, she told me in confidence. It was up to her to tell you," Harry sighed.
"Is it true?" Ginny asked, directing attention to their arrival.
Hermione felt Minerva intertwine their fingers together and smiled. "Yes, it's true, and I am very happy," Hermione answered as she looked around the room, gauging their reactions. Although shocked, none seemed to disapprove.
"As am I," Minerva added, her brogue blanketing the air, her meaning clear.
"Well, I wish I had been a spider on the wall when this came about," George proclaimed, hooting as a blush traveled up Hermione's neck and across her face. "Ah, I see there must be a story here!" Everyone joined in with gentle ribbing and chuckles. The awkwardness passed, and soon everyone relaxed. Better, Minerva sat next to Hermione, often rubbing the nape of Hermione's neck with sure fingers or clasping Hermione's hand in hers as the evening progressed. Hours passed, and people indulged more. Ron, in particular, drank several more glasses of firewhiskey.
"Can I just say," Ron began as he stood up, interrupting a conversation about the upcoming year's slated changes at the Ministry. "That you all missed a hellava kiss! I've never seen one like that in my whole entire—in all my life!" he slurred, his voice getting higher with each word. "Those two," he pointed at Hermione and Minerva, sloshing firewhiskey onto the floor, "were on fire. Like, I'm surprised the snow didn't melt around them." He raised his arms and waved them in an outward motion to emphasize his point, losing more alcohol from his glass in the process. "Those two have obviously kissed before!" Ron nodded emphatically and sat down with a thump.
Not able to resist, Hermione guffawed. Soon the room was filled with a cacophony of laughter. Hermione wiped tears from her eyes as she sought to settle down. Every time she looked at someone, though, more laughter erupted.
"I don't know, Ron. I think you may be exaggerating," George challenged, a smirk firmly in place. At Ron's squawk of indignation, George looked over at Hermione and said, "I think we need a demonstration."
Hermione shook her head. "Forget it. We have nothing to prove." Feeling her hand squeezed, Hermione looked over into Minerva's luminous eyes. She could see how relaxed and happy Minerva was. Smiling, Hermione leaned in and delivered a short, soft kiss to Minerva's lips. Turning back toward George, she said, "There you go."
At his objection, Minerva interrupted. "I think we can do better than that." The hair on the back of Hermione's neck stood up on end as the gravelly burr caressed her senses. She felt feather-light fingertips under her chin, guiding her face toward parted lips before releasing her face.
Time ceased. Hermione saw those revered lips closing the space between them, and she tilted her head automatically to welcome them. When their lips met, no other part of their bodies touched—both leaned toward the other from their seated positions, like tree branches seeking the light. Tenderly Minerva brushed her lips across Hermione's once, twice, before returning to apply more pressure. Minerva captured her lower lip between hers and sucked teasingly, causing Hermione to emit a moan from the back of her throat as she surrendered completely to the moment.
All she could focus on were the lips moving against hers so provocatively, the tongue playing with hers gently, the breaths they shared, and the all-encompassing feeling of rightness. She reveled in the love she could feel through every tongue stroke, every brush of lips, every sigh, every subtle movement as their kiss wound down to a drawn-out, delicious releasing of moistened lips.
Hermione took a moment to collect herself before her eyelids fluttered open. She looked into hunter green eyes, so well-known to her now, as a thumb traced her cheekbone slowly before brushing underneath her trembling lower lip. They smiled at each other, and Hermione finally noticed that it was unusually quiet. She broke their gaze to look at everyone else. They all sat silently, expressions of shock, amazement, and envy apparent.
"You weren't kidding, mate," Harry finally said, clapping Ron on the shoulder.
"See! And that was even hotter!" Ron pronounced, swallowed the rest of his drink, and fell off his chair to hoots from the rest.
Hermione looked back at Minerva, a question in her eye. Minerva nodded and rose.
"We best be getting back to the Manor. Thank you for having us," Minerva said, her hand landing on Hermione's lower back once she stood. Good-byes and well wishes were exchanged, and soon they were out the door.
Hermione glanced over at Minerva and said in a soft, throaty voice, "I hope you aren't too tired. Once we get back, I intend to worship every part of your addictive body."
"That was my hope, too," Minerva replied with a smile. Hermione merely delivered a Cheshire smile, looking forward to sharing more delicious kisses, this time without an audience.