Author's Notes: I apologize for the delay. My wonderful betas returned this to me days ago, but I kept tinkering with it. Therefore, any and all mistakes are mine alone. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Feel free to let this starving artist know. Her belly gets filled with kind words.

Chapter 17

McGonagall Manor, Scotland, Friday, April 18, 2014

When Minerva opened her eyes on Friday morning, she was greeted with excited chirps and a long, melodious song. Smiling, Minerva rubbed her head against Hermione's chest before stretching her feline body and jumping off the bed. She transformed into her human form, not bothering to summon her clothes, before taking a good look at her soul mate. She had grown substantially overnight. In fact she was nearly the same size as her phoenix animagus had been before the forced rebirth. Her body had become larger and more defined, and gold and scarlet feathers covered her phoenix body. Hermione spread her wings and sailed around the room before returning to Minerva, landing on the bed next to her.

"That's wonderful, Hermione!" Minerva exclaimed, happy with her wife's progress. Seeing her in flight reassured her that Hermione was on the mend. Minerva felt her eyes fill with tears when Hermione began singing another joyous melody. "Beautiful," she murmured reverently. "Do you think you are strong enough to try transforming back to human form?" A string of excited chirps caused Minerva to smile. "Go ahead then, Love."

Watching Hermione closely, she noted with relief that the transformation was quick and seamless. What made Minerva speechless, however, was how young Hermione looked. Her mouth dropped open, viewing a version of Hermione that looked much as she had while a student. But, no, there were differences. Her glossy, dark hair, now streaked with golden strands, was still cropped closely, and her pixie-shaped face had defined cheekbones and a strong chin. The skin, though—oh, how Minerva wished she had such smooth, flawless skin! Shiny, healthy, wrinkle-free skin. Allowing her gaze to wander over her wife's nude body, her breath caught. Muscular, supple, and firm—Minerva felt arousal spike through her.

It was Hermione's bright eyes which convinced her that the woman she loved, the woman she had fallen in love with nearly fifteen years ago, was standing before her and not some young, innocent, unsullied girl. In those bronze eyes shone compassion, love, desire, and fear.

Fear? That would not do. Minerva swiftly pulled Hermione in to a tight embrace, their mouths crashing together. As soon as their lips met, Minerva felt hunger and passion overwhelm her. To think her beloved had nearly died yesterday. She would never have experienced these talented lips moving against hers again. When they finally parted, Hermione hugged her closely.

"I know I look younger, but it's me, Minerva. I have shared the last fifteen years with you. I have pledged myself to you. I could not live without you by my side," Hermione said, whispering the words into Minerva's ear as sure fingers ran down her back before resting on her hips and pulling her forward possessively.

Minerva pulled back and captured Hermione's hands. "Wait, mo Gràdh. Give me a moment." She could see the uncertainty in her wife's eyes and felt horrible, but her head and her heart were at war. She knew this was the same woman she had fallen in love with so long ago, but the fact that she looked now as she had then was unnerving. "I just, I need to talk about this with you." She held on to Hermione's hands tightly as they sat on the edge of the bed.

"Minerva, please," Hermione said, tears gathering in her eyes. "Please don't refuse me. I couldn't bear it."

"Shhh, my dear," Minerva said as she pulled Hermione in for another hug. "I could never refuse you. Never. I just need..." she shook her head, confused. What was her problem? This all came back to how Hermione did not seem to age while the years ravaged Minerva's body. She needed to reconcile herself to the fact that Hermione, for all intents and purposes, was ageless, immortal even, and that if Minerva wanted to remain with her, she would need to get used to Hermione's form. Minerva lifted her face to stare into dark, chocolate-colored eyes. "Hermione," she said brokenly. She ran shaking fingers over a defined cheekbone before resting it on the younger woman's neck. Her eyes trailed over Hermione's face before landing on the pulse point that jumped wildly at the base of her throat underneath Minerva's fingertips.

"Minerva, we fell in love after the war. I looked similar to how I do now, but I have not lost the memories we have created or the years of experiencing life by your side. I am the same woman you made love to in this very bed during the winter holiday fifteen years ago, the same woman you proposed to while we rolled in the heather up the hill ten years ago, the same woman who married you while the wizarding community watched a year after that."

Hearing the desperation in her wife's voice, Minerva felt horrible. She was causing Hermione pain. Minerva felt tears slide down her face. She was afraid that Hermione was leaving her behind—her ability to rejuvenate gave her untapped powers. Wasn't it just a matter of time until Hermione sought out someone younger? Someone who could keep up with her?

"Minerva!" Hermione practically shouted, jarring Minerva from her fearful thoughts as surely as the two strong hands that suddenly framed her face. "I am your wife, your friend, your confidante, and your soul-mate. I have shared my life with you for fifteen years with the expectation that I will share the rest of my life with you."

Opening her mouth to object, Minerva found herself silenced by a stern scowl.

"We will share our lives together because I refuse to live without you," she said vehemently. "You made a vow to me. I made a vow to you. We are together. My soul is fed by yours. And this body," Hermione waved an arm in front of it in a downward motion, "is merely a shell, a means by which I can experience life. But my soul and my mind, Minerva, are not limited by it, as we have seen through my rebirth. Please, my Love. Please, see past this, see past my physical form. Please recognize that I am still the same person—the person you love and desire."

Minerva gazed into her lover's eyes and saw love and passion, such familiar and reassuring emotions, in luminescent, bronze eyes. Minerva inhaled deeply before exhaling forcefully. These doubts were unworthy of the bond they shared. "I want to start drinking your phoenix tears. I want to remain by your side for as long as possible," Minerva said, conviction ringing in her words.

Strong arms pulled her in for a hug before Hermione kissed her hungrily. "I love you so much, Minerva, so much," Hermione said. "Make love to me. I need you. Let's see what this body can do."

Groaning at the feel of her wife's body pressed against hers and the promise in Hermione's eyes, Minerva pushed aside any residual feelings of unease and kissed her back forcefully. She allowed Hermione to pull her on the bed, and arched her back when her nipple was captured by succulent lips. "Her...mi...o...ne..." Minerva felt desire rush through her as Hermione touched her in just the ways she loved, the ways only Hermione knew from years of making love to her. It was Hermione's actions that reinforced how silly her fears were. This was her wife, regardless of the youth her body reflected. Her knowledge was present, her memories were present, their shared history was intact, and their love was unbreakable.

Widening her legs to accommodate Hermione as she settled between them, Minerva mewled in response to a wicked tongue lashing an erect nipple before sliding across to apply the same sweet torture on the other one. Minerva's head lolled to the side while her hands grabbed the bed sheets tightly. Her mind blanked as Hermione easily proved just how well she knew Minerva's body. It took mere minutes before Minerva felt her body shudder as an orgasm rolled through her. With a feral growl, Minerva flipped Hermione onto her back to begin her own glorious attack.

Memories of the first time they had made love stood out in Minerva's mind vividly. Hermione's flushed skin, hoarse cries, surging body—that cherished memory combined with the view of this unmarred body drove Minerva mad with passion. Minerva skimmed her teeth over Hermione's ribcage, stalling to nibble her bellybutton as Hermione cried out. Minerva became distracted with the indentation of her wife's hipbone, and moaning her appreciation, Minerva nipped at the area before continuing to Hermione's weeping center. She mercilessly licked the entire area, not pausing anywhere even though she heard Hermione urging her to concentrate on one area in particular. Minerva had learned over the years, however, that Hermione liked to experience the feeling of a building orgasm, enjoyed the anticipation as she gave herself over completely to Minerva, and although she would never admit it, Hermione loved being teased.

Relishing the sounds of whimpers and mewls her wife was making, Minerva tasted every inch while holding Hermione's lower body firmly against the bed. Eventually, several inventive expletives made Minerva pause. She'd never heard such foul words spill from her wife's pouty mouth before.

"Since when do you have such a potty mouth, young lady?" Minerva asked before delivering a long lick up the length of Hermione's womanhood.

"Minerva!" Hermione screeched. "If you don't make me come right now, I'll stuff the largest pair of hippogriff's hairy balls I can find down your throat!" Looking upward, she could see Hermione leaning on her elbows, her throat muscles defined as she strained for release. Hermione's eyes, reminiscent of coals, burned into Minerva, and she decided that it would be best to abandon such pleasurable foreplay, or as Hermione unfairly had labeled it a moment ago: the endless torment. Minerva did want Hermione to feel good, after all. Perhaps she had misjudged Hermione's urgency. Minerva felt her ardor increase at the thought that she had affected Hermione to such an extent.

With a last look into desperate eyes, Minerva leaned in and sucked strongly on the engorged bundle of nerves. Hermione emitted a high-pitched shriek and yelled, "HELL, YES!" Smirking, Minerva entered Hermione's drenched channel with two fingers just the way the younger witch liked it, quickly and forcefully. Minerva's eyebrows flew up when she felt her fingers slowed down by a tight channel and the tearing of a thin membrane. Was that—? Minerva's mind trembled, perplexed, but her thoughts were interrupted by a gasp, one that reflected pain.

"Hermione?" Minerva said, concerned, and immediately stilled her movements.

"I'm fine. Don't you dare stop!" Hermione replied passionately and bucked against Minerva with enough force to let Minerva know she was serious.

Nodding, Minerva begin to suck the fluttering clitoris as she pushed inside Hermione's channel continually, curling her fingers against the grasping inner walls during each down stroke. Hermione pulled her legs back and held them up at the knees, totally exposing herself and allowing Minerva to penetrate her more deeply. Hermione's obvious flexibility and guttural sounds spurred Minerva on, and she groaned at how divine Hermione tasted. After only a few more strokes, she felt Hermione come undone, her body trembling violently as she shouted out Minerva's name. Rather excited by Hermione's response and undeniably possessive of her fabulously nubile body, knowing she was Hermione's only lover and had been gifted with the gift of her virginity twice, Minerva moved onto her back and opened her arms wide, hoping to Merlin that Hermione would touch her.

Hermione immediately climbed on top of Minerva and engaged her with a fiery kiss. Her hands roamed Minerva's body restlessly, leaving trails of fire wherever they touched. Minerva moaned her approval, the sound getting lost in Hermione's demanding mouth. When Hermione pulled away, Minerva moaned, "Nooo! Come back." Her eyes popped open at the husky laugh she heard. Tilting her head so she could watch what Hermione was doing, Minerva was hypnotized by what she saw. Glistening skin, dancing eyes, gleaming teeth, flexing muscles, arching back. "You are exquisite," Minerva murmured in a voice filled with awe. Minerva could hardly believe that this mesmerizing creature had pledged to love her.

Another sexy laugh filled the room, and Minerva smiled. She heard Hermione softly utter a spell, her breath tickling Minerva just where she needed her lover's tongue and lips and teeth.

Focused heat...heaviness...tingling...

Eyes widening in surprise, Minerva's mouth dropped open as she realized what was happening. Lips surrounded her engorged clitoris...heat...suction...wetness...Minerva thrust upward instinctually, howling at the sharp, intense sensation that engulfed her.

"I need you to know that I am yours. That I will always be yours. Just as you are mine," Hermione said, the tenor of her voice tugging Minerva's soul closer. "Age will never change that. Appearance will never change that. Life will never change that."

Hermione quickly turned around, straddled Minerva's lower body, and sank onto the new appendage fully. Minerva loudly vociferated nonsense words as Hermione rode her hard. The sensations were so powerful that she could do nothing except thrust repeatedly into Hermione. Their voices mingled while they sped up their coupling, each penetration ripping away more of Minerva's ability to think.

Placing her hands on Hermione's shapely hips, Minerva began pulling her lover down forcefully with each upward thrust.

"Ahhh," Hermione shouted lustily. "Yes!"

Minerva sat up and held onto rolling hips tightly as she began pounding into Hermione relentlessly. She moved her hands to cover bouncing breasts as she felt strong fingers grasping her widened thighs. She gasped with each feel of her breasts sliding against Hermione's slippery back. Hermione undulated against her, a string of groans fueling Minerva's desire. Minerva panted out, "You feel delicious, mo Gràdh. Only you make me feel this way. So out of control. So desirable. So impassioned. Can you feel what you're doing to me?"

Squeezing both hardened nipples as she pulled on them, Minerva reveled in Hermione's incoherent mutterings. An overwhelming hunger spurred Minerva to bite Hermione at the juncture of neck and shoulder, sucking strongly while her fingers continued to abuse Hermione's nipples. Hermione's internal walls began grasping at her, squeezing her, and she gave up trying to control her loud, verbal responses, now constant. Moments later, Minerva hardly felt the sting of fingernails drawing blood from her thighs as they roared their releases.

Hermione leaned forward and thrust three fingers into Minerva, pumping furiously while they sped up even more. "Ohhh...ahhh...Her...mi...ooohhh...neeee!" Minerva howled as her next orgasm crashed through her. They slowed down, enjoying the aftershocks as they undulated together sinuously, Hermione's head resting on Minerva's shoulder. Minerva turned her head slightly to capture beads of perspiration as they rolled down Hermione's neck. She tasted salt and flesh.

Gasping when Hermione removed her fingers, Minerva wound her hands around the slim waist and hugged her tightly, enjoying their closeness.

Finally flopping back onto the bed, Minerva listened to her uneven breathing. Hermione's breathless "reducio" broke the sound of their panting, and a moment later Hermione lay on top of Minerva without bothering to turn over. Minerva promptly hugged the younger witch again and smiled as Hermione's arms rested on top of hers. Minerva inhaled Hermione's unique scent and purred.

"We will have to revisit that spell again. Soon," Minerva said softly, her thick Scottish brogue reflecting her strong emotions.

"Mmm, that was so sexy, the way you took me," Hermione said. She turned in Minerva's arms and gazed at her seriously. "Don't ever forget how much I love you. Desire you. You. I've given myself to you twice now, and each time I am reborn, it will be you," she smirked saucily, "who will turn me into a woman once again."

Guffawing, Minerva pulled her wife in for a lascivious kiss. "You are hardly a girl. I was daft to hesitate. I know you are the woman I fell in love with fifteen years ago, not some school girl. Forgive a foolish, old woman her insecurities."

"Don't be absurd! You are by no means old," Hermione said firmly.

Minerva smiled at Hermione's response and nodded. "No, but I do look like I am sixty years your senior. And right now I am tired. You have worn me out."

"Once you start drinking the phoenix tears regularly, I wager you will feel much more energetic. As for how you look, you are a wee stoatir, don't cha know."

Chuckling, Minerva ran her hands down a muscled back. "A stoatir, am I? Where did you pick up that word?"

"From you, of course! I have picked up many of your Scottish idioms over the years," Hermione answered with a wide smile.

Minerva felt her heart skip with the admission. Every once in a while Hermione would murmur a Scottish phrase. It pleased her on many levels that Hermione had taken the time to learn her native language. She squeezed the younger witch affectionately. "Can I interest you in a wee kip before we rise for the day? I cannae fathom moving another muscle right now."

"Knackered, are you? A nap sounds lovely," Hermione agreed in an amused voice as she slid off of Minerva and pulled up the sheets rumpled at their feet, covering their cooling bodies.

After another lingering kiss, Minerva spooned Hermione's body and closed her eyes. Who knew what they would face later in the day. She needed her body to be strong. At least she knew that Hermione would be right next to her. It made all the difference.

***
Roused by a crack rending the air, Minerva noticed Elsa standing respectfully at the end of her bed. "I am sorry to wake you, Mistress, but you have received a message from the Ministry to contact Mr. Potter," she said.

"Elsa, how many times over the years have I asked you to call me Minerva? You are a free elf and have been for more years than I care to remember," Minerva groused. A low chuckle alerted her that Hermione had awakened.

"You are still the mistress of the Manor," Elsa said serenely, bowing slightly. With that, she disapparated from the room.

"Fancy a shower, Love? I'll wash your back," Hermione offered suggestively.

"Certainly."

Although tough to do while water sluiced over Hermione's magnificent curves, Minerva controlled herself enough to not ravish her wife. After a quick fire-call to Harry, they entered the dining room to find Miranda, Andrea, Caroline, and Cassidy seated, drinking tea.

"I hope we haven't kept you waiting long," Minerva said.

She could easily read the shock on their faces as they got their first look at Hermione.

"Professor! You look so young!" Cassidy blurted out. Caroline elbowed her, and her sister winced in pain even as her eyes flitted to Andrea with an apologetic look on her face.

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, I do. Over the next few days I will age more. It may not be to the way I used to look, but I will look more like the professor you know."

"Her appearance does not negate who she is or her life experiences," Minerva said a bit abruptly. She immediately regretted her dismissive words, but she felt protective toward her wife.

"Of course!" Andrea said. "Hermione, we know you're the same person." She grinned. "I wish I had such great-looking skin!"

"Your skin is...adequate," Miranda choked off. Minerva felt her eyebrows rise in surprise. She was quite sure that Miranda had just edited herself quite severely. She could see by the looks around the table that everyone had noticed. Andrea, in particular, looked stunned. Minerva worked hard to keep a smirk off her face as Miranda glared defiantly while valiantly ignoring the blush creeping up her throat, invading her normally alabaster skin.

"Um, thanks, Andy," Hermione said evenly. "Rebirth is better than any spa treatment available."

"All the same, I would rather they occur as rarely as possible, if it's all the same to you," Minerva said, seeing a look of understanding in Hermione's soft gaze. Deciding to redirect their attention, Minerva called for Elsa, and food appeared before everyone.

"I spoke to Harry. They were unable to confirm that the rogue dragons are being held in Bleaklow or obtain information on the eggs' whereabouts from the Death Eaters that we captured yesterday. Evidently, they are bound by Fidelius and Tongue-Tying Charms," Minerva began.

"Then how were Mom and Professor McGonagall able to get that information from the dragons?" Caroline asked.

"The Fidelius Charm does not bind magical animals. Harry has agreed to leniency in exchange for the Death Eaters to bring us to both places. However," Minerva continued, "I would not be surprised if they also have applied some powerful protective charms on the areas so that one cannot see either location even when standing in front of them."

"What do you suggest?" Miranda asked, eyebrow raised.

"We will apparate to the locations with our guides, but we will need to make our way onto them through less conventional means," Minerva said.

"What are you thinking, Minerva?" Hermione asked.

"You and I will recover the eggs while Miranda and Andrea free the dragons," Minerva suggested. "Such charms have no effect on phoenixes." Minerva looked at her niece. "Or on dragons. Once inside, we will have to disarm the protective charms so that the Aurors can join us. I suspect time will be against us since they are undoubtedly using intrusion charms, too."

"We can send a Patronus once we rescue the eggs. That way Miranda and Andy can inform the dragons that their progeny are safe," Hermione suggested.

"Mmm, yes. Perhaps they will be more willing to turn on the Death Eaters. At the least, they will cease attacking us," Miranda mused.

"Let us come with you," Cassidy said.

"Absolutely not," Miranda said firmly. "I will not have you in harm's way."

"But, Mom, we are hardly defenseless! We have learned all manner of spells and are at the top of our Charms class. Aren't we, Professor?" Cassidy directed toward Andrea. Seeing her nod, Cassidy continued. "We are no longer children, and if we become Aurors, these are the types of situations we will be facing," Cassidy continued.

"Plus, you won't be able to protect yourselves while you're trying to remove the charms they've placed on the land or on the dragons. We can protect you until backup arrives," Caroline added.

Minerva agreed with the Priestly twins. Although young, they were hardly defenseless. She understood, even if Miranda did not, that they had something to prove to their mother. "I will not object to their participation," Minerva said slowly. She noted the surprised looks around the table and smiled slightly. After a few tense moments where Miranda and Andrea stared at each other, Miranda looked over at her daughters and nodded her consent.

"Very well," Minerva said as she rose. "They will be here soon." The floo at the end of the room activated, and Minerva pressed her lips together. "That must be them. Gather whatever you need, and we will leave momentarily." Sparing a loving gaze at Hermione as the others left the room, Minerva walked over to an antique buffet and retrieved a vial.

"Are you going to drink it now?" Hermione's lovingly asked as arms slid around her waist from behind.

"Aye. Who knows what the day will bring. This may give me more stamina," Minerva said.

"Oh, Love, you have plenty of stamina," Hermione said, a sensual laugh traveling down Minerva's spine.

Smirking at her wife, Minerva raised the vial of phoenix tears. "To life. May we share it for endless days and countless nights." She drank it quickly, and sighed as she felt energy flow through her. She felt invigorated. Turning to Hermione, she kissed her on the cheek and whispered in her ear, "As I proved this morning, I am rather attached to your lovely form. I expect the opportunity to explore it more thoroughly tonight."

"Any more thoroughly and I won't be able to walk," Hermione muttered. They walked toward the assembled Ministry officials and bound Death Eaters as Minerva allowed a small smile to cover her face.

"Quite right, mo Gràdh," Minerva said in a low voice, pleased to see her wife shiver at the thought. "Quite right."