"Ok, ok, okaaay," Molly waved her hands in the air, narrowly avoiding hitting Sybil on the head with a nearly empty bottle of Vodka. "I think we should get this duel underway first, before we all have to report to the Hospital wing with boils and burns and Merlin knows what else you two come up with."
Rolanda snorted.
"Good luck with that visit." She said, nodding her head in the direction of the mediwitch, who was sat on the sofa, her head nodding into her chest.
"Great. We haven't done Christmas yet." Hermione muttered, wracking her brains for a soberness potion or charm.
"Ah, we'll just pretend she's the drunken relative that always comes to visit...you know the one you don't see all year, turns up with a recycled Christmas card, eats all the best chocolates and drinks you out of your newly stocked wine cellar."
It was Minerva's turn to snort.
"If I recall correctly Rolanda, that has been your role in my house on more occasions than I care to remember."
"But I do it with such grace and cheer." Rolanda winked, and Hermione found herself staring between the two women, trying to gauge their relationship. They had seemed like only friends, but Christmas, and alcohol, and no mention of anyone else...Hermione quickly stopped her train of thought. Even if they had, everyone has a life, she told herself, and shushed the little jealous voice that kept nagging at her. Of course Minerva had a life. She just didn't want to imagine one without her in it. Snapping herself out of her musings before she gave in and pounced on Minerva, she cleared her throat.
"Yes, anyway, the duel. Shall we?" she extended her hand to Minerva to pull her out of the chair, and had to suppress a gasp when Minerva grasped it and ran her thumb along Hermione's wrist.
"It shall be my pleasure," Minerva murmured as they went to stand in a scene that had transformed into giant caves, reminiscent of the time that Harry had had to outsmart the dragon in the Triwizard Tournament. They could hear the sound of waves crashing, and when they looked, they realised that they were perched inside a cliff.
"Spooky," Ginny commented as everyone except the unconscious Poppy gathered round to watch. Hermione and Minerva stood in their gown, facing each other, the wind whipping their hair, wisps falling out of Minerva's bun.
"Bow," Minerva almost had to shout over the noise. "Then, we start."
"Give me your worst." Hermione grinned. No sooner than she bowed, she had to roll to dodge sparks thrown by Minerva's wand. She quickly jumped to a crouching position and fired off a jet of red sparks before ducking behind a rock. Wisps of mist had begun to gather around them, and Minerva grinned before wordlessly banishing Hermione's robe. Hermione squealed and she threw a glance at the photographer, breathing a sigh of relief when she realised that the mist would cover most of her modesty. Having taken her eye off the game for a few seconds too long, she found herself surrounded by a ring of fire. Gathering all her strength, she moulded the ring into a hurricane pushing it towards Minerva until it engulfed her. She felt her magic being pushed back towards her, and suddenly the fire was overcome by a huge wave of water summoned from over the cliff. When Minerva reappeared, she too was without her robe, bits of her hair darkened further by the wetness and plastered to her face. Hermione's chest heaved at the sight. The woman looked utterly erotic. She noticed the movement of Minerva's wand and quickly cast a shield charm to repel the sparks flying towards her, causing Minerva to duck. She quickly recovered, and transfigured some rocks into gargoyles that flew towards Hermione, who muttered a charm that caused them to fly in a circle and crash into each other, smashing to pieces, which she crushed into sand before sending the cloud sailing towards Minerva. When the cloud dissipated, Minerva was nowhere to be seen. Bewildered, Hermione whirled around, to find the woman crouched on a ledge three feet above her head.
"Keep your eye on the game, Hermione," Minerva shouted. She muttered an incantation and Hermione could only stare as mist and clouds gathered around the woman, leaving it almost impossible to make her out. Hermione braced herself, but as the clouds parted, she couldn't help but gasp. In place of Minerva McGonagall, a lioness stood, crouched, ready to pounce. Hermione racked her brains, for the incantation, and it came to her just as the lioness launched herself off the ledge.
The resulting roar had managed to wake Poppy, who now stood next to the other women, holding tightly to Pomona's arm, who in turn stood watching, entranced. Even Rolanda had abandoned the bottle of Tequila she had been clutching.
"Wow," Ginny breathed, eyes glued to the scene.
Hermione had also transformed into a lioness, and as Minerva launched herself off the ledge, she met Hermione, who had jumped onto her hind legs, front paws outstretched, ready to tackle Minerva. The two women fought like the animals they had become, teeth meeting teeth, claws digging, rolling over, on top of each other, both rearing up, swiping.
"You're supposed to be catching this, remember?" Molly hissed to the photographer, who had stood transfixed, camera hanging useless about his neck.
"Oh, yes, right," he stumbled, raising the camera and pointing without tearing his eyes from the scene.
And then a collective gasp ran through the room as Hermione transformed back, having stretched her magic to its limit. She lay, panting, pinned underneath Minerva the lioness, huge jaws mere inches from her face. As their eyes met, Minerva too changed back, her arms either side of Hermione's head holding her up. A sheen of sweat covered both women. Minerva's hair had come completely loose and spread about her face and hung down so that the ends tickled Hermione's neck. Sparks flew from their eyes, and as adrenalin still coursed through the both of them, Minerva's arms buckled at the same time that Hermione stretched up to capture Minerva's lips. They crashed together, Hermione's arms automatically engulfing Minerva as they devoured each other's lips. They ripped apart with a gasp as their naked legs found each others. Minerva once again raised herself onto her arms, her chest heaving even more.
"Minerva," Hermione breathed, her hands coming up to pull Minerva's hair over her shoulder. "I think perhaps we ought to stop now."
At Minerva's glazed look, Hermione chuckled. "We have an audience."
Hermione smiled softly as a blush crept up Minerva's chest and rushed to her face. Hermione used the last of her strength to summon some robes, and the two women slowly got to their feet, legs somewhat shaky, bodies a bit sore, and hair sporting the extremely tousled look. They made their way to the gang of women gathered at the edge of the scene, smiles dancing on their faces.
"Well," Molly said after a few moments of silence and staring. "That certainly is a...novel way to settle a battle. Whoever said make love not war certainly had foresight."
Minerva, if possible, blushed even deeper, before gathering her Professor demeanour and squaring her shoulders.
"Yes. Well. Mr. Grant I trust that you have sufficient sense and editorial skills."
It wasn't a question, which turned out to be a good job as the photographer seemed to have been struck by a Petrificus Totalus. Ginny giggled.
"With that performance, you're lucky he managed to shoot anything at all. Hermione, where did you learn that?"
Hermione shrugged in a very un-Hermione-like way.
"I do read a lot, Gin. Now, before Christmas, I think I need a drink. Rolanda, Ginny, why don't you do the Quidditch practice now?"
The two women nodded, and as they strolled across what had now transformed into a Quidditch arena, Rolanda found her voice again. She pinned Ginny with a forceful look and wagged a finger at her.
"Now then, missy, don't go getting any ideas after watching those two. I have no intentions of rising to the challenge, so to speak. Not until you buy me a tidy drink, anyway. So no mock-falling off your broom or any such thing, I won't fall for it...yet." she winked at Ginny and carried on her way, leaving Ginny giggling slightly, until she caught sight of her mother standing at the outskirt, hands on hips, glaring at the retreating form of Rolanda. Ginny rolled her eyes and carried on her way, an evil glint in her eye. She wondered how one could go about falling off ones broom painlessly, after checking that her mother was watching, of course.
Minerva and Hermione flopped onto the sofa, drinks in hand, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm too old for this," Minerva stated, using her wand to dry her hair but not bothering to pin it up. Hermione snorted, and held out her free hand to Minerva to show her the trembling.
"Me too, then."
Minerva took Hermione's hand, surprised at how cold it felt.
"You just stretched yourself a little. That was advanced work you used. I'm impressed. Though I must say, I hope you never have to put it to use in a duel ever again."
"Oh, I don't know," Hermione answered, her fingers tickling Minerva's palm. "I think I would rather like to see a duel with you through to the end."
Minerva gasped at the statement and at the sensations Hermione was creating in her hand. Their knees touched, and both women jumped.
"That sounds...more than appealing, Hermione," Minerva whispered, her hand caressing Hermione's too by now. "But I think that we should wait until after Christmas."
"After Christmas?" Hermione asked, her heart sinking. They were only in October.
Minerva nodded at the other side of the room, where Ginny and Rolanda were exiting the Quidditch pitch, laughing heartily, and where Molly stood with a strangely dark look on her face.
"Don't we have a Christmas scene to decorate?"
Hermione smiled, her mood instantly lightening.
"Ah yes. Somehow, I think I shall enjoy this Christmas!"
Thank you everyone for the reviews, it means a lot x I have more written, but I'm too tired to edit right now, so will update tomorrow...hoping you enjoy; I must say I had fun picturing Minerva and Hermione in a nude duel, although I am floating slightly on headache tablets so excuse me! :)