AN: Thank you for all the kind words. Dedicated with deep appreciation to asouldreams and TanithW... you too Marble!

THE TIES THAT BIND

Chapter 15

THE POTION

Jean Granger quietly rolled out of bed. She didn't want to disturb Rolanda as to wake her. They'd been up rather late the previous evening working out the last minute details for Hermione & Minerva's wedding which was to take place tomorrow. She, Molly & Ro had then popped over to her former home to pick up the one item that she knew would touch her daughter's heart.

The wedding dress.

Not just any dress. Her grandmother's wedding dress to be specific. The dress that Sarah Griffin had worn when she married Henry O'Neill. A handsome, red haired irish muggle who'd swept young Sarah completely off her feet. Jean had smiled when she'd caught herself referring to Henry as a muggle. The wizarding world in all of it's amazing oddness was now her world. As was the sleeping witch lying in her bed. In Rolanda Hooch, she'd found her soulmate. Much as Hermione had in Minerva.

Luckily John Granger had been in a fairly agreeable mood and had allowed the women to enter his home. They'd quietly made their way to the attic where Jean had pulled open an old trunk which had been buried under an enormous pile of boxes, old blankets and such. . Molly, demonstating what a domestic goddess she truly was, simply waved her wand and neatly moved the pile to an out of the way corner. Jean had then retrieved the large box from inside the trunk. Hermione's mother had briefly spoken with John regarding his participation in his daughter's wedding while Molly and Ro had waited in the kitchen.

John's loud and enthusiastic, "I will not be there." Had been enough to cause Ro to find Jean, flash John the middle finger and leave. Molly has shot him the dirtiest Weasley "fish-eye" she could muster.

"We'll just have to resort to plan "B"." Ro had reassured Jean while wiping the tears from her soft cheeks.

Molly had patted the distraught woman on the back and said, "Don't worry. In the end it will be that git who misses out."

Now, Jean Granger gazed at Rolanda's sleeping form. So lovely. Such wonderful curves. Why on earth would she keep all that hidden underneath billowing robes was beyond her. Just another quirk, she mused.

"If you keep looking at me that way, I'm gonna jump out of this bed, throw you on it... and have my wickedly witchy way with you."

Startled, Jean's mocha eyes widened as she saw two piercing yellow orbs gazing up at her. There was an lusty grin decorating Rolanda's handsome face as well. Dropping her robe, she replied, "I'll save you the trouble." With that, she slid under the sheets and into the eager arms of her lover.

Grinning, Hooch pulled Jean against her body and muttered, "That's so much better."

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The quiet popping sound of elf apparation resounded off the stone walls in the darkened cellar of McGonagall Manor. Gloomy and chilly, the cellar was spooky but scrupulously tidy. The Mistress would have it no other way. There were no unclean places in her home.

Izer gazed around, his large golden eyes blinking as he focused on his mission. The Mistress has tasked him with a special chore. With that in mind, the tiny creature padded silently over to a nearby door. Blackened old English oak, with wrought iron strap hinges. He snapped his clawed fingers and an ancient skeleton key appeared.

Levitating himself level with the knob, he worked open a lock that hadn't been turned in nearly eighty years. The tiny elf frowned at the bits of rust build up in and around the lock. "Hmmm... got's to gets that fixed we does." He squeaked grumpily. He didn't like to see his beloved manor acquiring any appearances of age. Not one bit!

Finally the door unlocked and the tiny elf used his magic to push open the imposing door. It groaned a deep, creaky complaint but opened wide.

The room was small but well lit and smelled of heather and rosemary. The great master always liked those scents. The tiny creature smiled as he approached a large gilded portrait floating mysteriously in the center of the cozy room. Izer stared up at the figure in the painting. It was of a wizard with long flowing silver streaked auburn hair. The wizard's long angular face was adorned with a heavy silver moustache and beard that drooped below his chin. The distinguished imposing portrait was sleeping.

Izer nervously cleared his throat, "Ahem..."

Startled, the painting jerked awake, a deep voice echoed thoughout the chamber and rattled poor Izer's tiny bones, "Who doest disturb mine slumbers!"

Gulping, the elf whispered meekly, "I does greats master."

The stern visage softened a bit, "Ah.. thou art young Izer?"

Grinning, the ancient elf thought to himself, 'Only the master says I's young.' The tiny creature nodded, his large ears flapping.

"What brings thou to me small one?"

Izer's golden eyes sparkled, "I's needs the potion greats master."

Painted ebony eyes widened, "Who art requires mine brew?"

The floating portrait was of Merlin.

Years ago, tired of constantly being besieged by the curious, the great wizard had traveled from portrait to portrait throughout the magical world until he'd found members of his own bloodline.

Keegan McGonagall to be precise.

The great wizard had asked the then living and much younger McGonagall for sanctuary. The only true enchanted portrait of Merlin in existence now spent it's days in quiet meditation in this very chamber. Standing vigil over a potion that guaranteed the continuation of his bloodline.

His other portraits were fakes.

Izer took a deep and humble breath, "Mistress Minerva is sets to marry tomorrow."

Merlin's thick brows rose, "Little Tabby? Getting married? I hath missed a great deal."

The price he paid for his self-imposed solitude was isolation. The only contact he had with the outside world was through the elves. For not even the McGonagalls themselves could enter this room. Merlin had spelled it that way.

This particular painting was different from all the other enchanted portraits in the wizarding world. It could do magic still. Because of that and knowing his own weaknesses, Merlin had spelled the room with a permanent binding charm that would not allow him to leave this room, nor allow humans to enter.

Humans only.

Cats were different.

Thus it was so that Merlin knew of a certain silver tabby with black stripes and spectacle-like markings around her eyes. The curiosity of a cat had led a certain animagus into this very chamber many, many years ago through a hole in the wall not much wider than her whiskers. That same tabby cat had learned that in Merlin's room, she could not return to her human form. Only able to communicate with the painting in her own cat language of meows, yowls and rowls.

Minerva knew that Merlin preferred his solitude and thus had left him alone with only the occasional visit. It had been many years since she'd last graced his presence. Not since her parents had been killed.

"So thy wee kitten hath found a husband." Merlin boomed.

He was answered with squeaky giggles, "No greats master. A wifes. Mistress Minerva is marrying the Miss."

Laughter boomed throughout the chamber, "I kneweth thou art spice to thee tabby! Now I knoweth." He laughed until tears came to the dark ebony eyes. He looked down at the tiny elf, "Telleth me of thy Miss."

Izer's answering smile lit up his tiny face and warmed the ancient portrait's heart, "She's be the greats-grandaughter of Sarah Griffin!"

Even Merlin knew that name, "A daughter of Gryfindor? Indeed?"

Izer nodded excitedly, "Yes greats sir. Its means the line of Merlin reunites sir!"

Comprehension made itself quite clear on the ancient portrait, "Thy tabby hath a bonding with thy witch then?"

The head house elf nodded, grinning his joy, "You's can feels it sir!"

Deep ebony eyes brightened with what suspiciously looked like tears, "Alas mine line reunites after so very long." The painting was deeply moved. Smiling as he realized that his line would be continued by two witches. Thus the need for his fertility brew.

Izer smiled fondly at the master as he said, "Theys makes beautiful little ones I's thinks." He was convinced that Hermione was the most spectacular witch he'd ever laid his large golden eyes on. His Mistress accepted of course.

The wizened portrait nodded and waved his hand in a seemingly random manner and muttered, "Revealo McGonagall Continuance!"

A small section of the stone wall quivered. Then soundlessly slid forward and dropped to the floor with a thud. In a recess behind where the stone had been sat a tiny green bottle no larger than a man's index finger.

"A drop of blood from thy tabby and thy miss must be added for thee magic to recognize mine bloodline."

Izer nodded and retrieved the bottle. Carefully cradling it like it was the most prized possession in all the world.

In many ways it was.

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Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk brooding. Her emerald eyes fixed in a furious glare at the tiny green bottle sitting innocently on the ornate mahogany desk. Her house elf had just moments ago presented her with the bottle he'd retrieved from the cellar.

Now it sat there.

Mocking her.

Hermione quietly stood in the doorway of her fiance's study watching Minerva brood. There was a small smile creeping across her beautiful face. Her chocolate eyes crinkled in amusement. Minerva could be so... so.. Minerva!

"Are you going to sit there brooding all day?"

The older witch looked up startled, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to see that it's not going to attack you."

Minerva's expression darkened, "There's more than one way to attack you know."

Exasperated, Hermione threw up her hands, "What is it that bothers you so? Is it the fact that you're going to have a bollock? What?" She stepped up to the opposite side of the desk and placed both hands palms down. Leaning forward slightly, she fixed her deep brown eyes on the equally deep green ones before her.

Sighing, Minerva sat back, "I suppose I...." She trailed off staring at her love.

Hermione's expression softened, "Oh Tabby. We'll get through this." She came around the desk and gingerly placed herself in Minerva's lap. Reaching out, she picked up the seemingly innocuous bottle. She examined it for a moment or two, then looked at her wife-to-be, "This is the future. Your's, mine... the whole family's. We can be frightened of it and ticked off because we're not in control of the situation , or we can face it like the Gryfindor's we are." She set the bottle back on the desk and pulled her lover into a sweet, tender kiss.

Angus McGonagall stood in the doorway watching his cousin and her fiance. He'd briefly entertained the notion of pursuing the lovely young witch until his mother, Fiona set him straight. He really loved his cousin and didn't ever want to hurt her. He was honestly very happy for her. Just deep down, maybe a wee bit envious. Sure, he was a ghost... but ghost's had feelings too! With a quiet sigh, he cleared his throat rather loudly and dramatically, "If you two are through snogging each other senseless, I have something for you."

With a loud slurping sound guaranteed to irk the ghost, Hermione pulled back from her lover and looked over at the doorway.

Sure enough, Angus was grimacing, "Ewww! Get a room you two."

The couple noticed that he held a rather large box in his ghostly hands.

Minerva cocked an eyebrow, "What do you have there?"

Angus walked into the study and placed the box on the table saying, "From Keegan. It's Ewan's colors."

Ewan.

Minerva's father.

Killed along with her mother Isabella when Minerva was fourteen. The box before her could only contain one thing. When Angus said her father's colors, he meant her father's kilt. What she was to wear when she took Hermione for her bride.

Hermione's chocolate eyes sparkled, "Ooooh! Let me see." She reached for the box only to be batted away by the ghost.

"Tis bad luck to see the colors before the wedding!" He held up a small parcel and handed it to the young witch, "This is for you."

Curiously, she took the small parcel from her soon-to-be cousin. Opening it, she reached in and pulled out a small bit of fabric....

Tartan.

Green and ivory with threads of crimson and gold.

The colors of her new clan.

Tears welled up in the deep chocolate eyes and her breath hitched. She felt Minerva's strong arms tighten their protective hold around her waist.

Angus felt his eyes fill up as well. Cleaing his throat, he said gruffly, "Yes, well... Mother Fiona said you're supposed to have this on your wedding dress." He watched as Hermione unraveled the tartan and gaze at it reverently.

"I'm going to be a McGonagall." She whispered as the tears fell.

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Minerva stepped out of the shower. The steamy, nearly scalding hot water had relaxed her somewhat. She was still very aprehensive about taking the potion but the hot water and her lovely wife-to-be had settled her down a bit. Wrapping a towel around her body, she moved to the sink and procedded to attend to her long ebony hair.

There was a gentle tap on the door and a quiet, "Can I come in?" sounding from the other side. Setting her hairbrush down, the older witch pulled the door open saying, "You do not ever have to ask to come in."

Hermione blushed as she stepped in saying, "Well I wouldn't want to interupt if you were using the loo." She eyed her love with a small smile.

Minerva threw her a crooked grin and answered, "Well, then I would tell you I was occupied."

Both witches chuckled as Hermione walked to the vanity and Minerva reached for her hairbrush. The older witch then noticed that Hermione had a small pouch with her, "What's that?" She inquired curiously.

The young witch reached inside the pouch and pulled out a magical syringe, "I need to draw out a drop of blood from you and from myself. They need to be added to the potion in order for it to attune to our biological signatures."

The older witch watched as Hermione placed the snub nosed object against the inside of her wrist and whispered, "Accio Hemio Plasmaticus." The storage vial attached to the tip began to fill with the crimson life blood of her love.

Alarmed at the amount Hermione was drawing from herself, Minerva muttered, "How much do you need? I thought it was supposed to be only a drop?"

Grinning, the young doctor replied, "It is, I just wanted to draw a bit more so I can mix up a few healing potions ahead of time. Just in case we need them." She winked at her love, "I hope you don't mind?" The implication being that she intended to draw the same amount from Minerva.

Raising an eyebrow, the older witch replied in a dry sarcastic tone, "Healers! Poppy used to do the same bloody thing." She frowned as she heard Hermione snicker.

"I know how much of a pain in the arse you can be when you're ill. I'm just getting a head start. Are you going to be difficult? You just might find yourself sleeping on the sofa you know." The young witch gazed a challenge into Minerva's eyes.

The Headmistress gave a disgruntled snort and thrust out her arm, "Hmmph!"

Grinning, the young healer quickly and efficiently performed the same procedure on her less than enthusiastic patient. When she was finished, she scourgified her equipment and packed it away neatly. Looking up at the older witch, she asked, "When do you want to do this? We're getting married tomorrow."

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Minerva lay quietly on she and Hermione's bed. She watched as the setting sun cast golden splashes of color that slowly slid down the walls as the sun set. It put her in a relaxed and contemplative mood. She reflected on just how much her life had changed since meeting the incomparable Hermione Jean Granger. The young witch had quite literally turned her quiet, orderly world upside down. And the funny thing was, the older witch hadn't minded one bloody bit.

The corner of her mouth quirked up at the thought.

All thoughts immediately fled the scene when Hermione came strolling out of the ensuite wearing the flimsiest excuse of a negligee that she had ever seen. The emerald eyes immediately began to darken as she took in the gold hued silken fabric stretched across ample breasts. Barely covering those lovely mounds.

Hermione felt her nipples tighten as she observed Minerva's gaze darken, reflecting her hungry lust. The young witch felt a familiar stirring in her lower regions as well. With just a single look, Minerva McGonagall had the ability to reduce Hermione Granger to a randy banshee if she wished.

She wished.

The older witch then noticed that her lover was holding the inoccuous little green bottle as well. She watched as Hermione set the bottle on her nightstand, then glided around the bed to Minerva's side.

"I think you might be a tad overdressed." The young woman stated as she removed Minerva's towel revealing the spectacular body of the Headmistress. "God you are sooo hot. You know that?" Hermione noticed her lover's answering smirk. Grinning, she climbed onto the bed and proceeded to straddle her fiance.

Minerva closed her eyes as she felt small hands tracing her curves. Slowly, deftly small fingers produced the most delicious goose bumps. Her rose colored nipples deepened in color as they hardened under Hermione's arousing touch.

"M'eudail, bith goal agam ort gu brath."*

Minerva's emerald green eyes snapped open in astonishment at Hermione's quietly spoken Scotch Gaelic. She was greeted with dark chocolate eyes filled to overflowing with unconditional love. For her and her alone. Her eyes filled with sweet tears as she whispered, "Mo bhean."**

Leaning down, Hermione placed soft butterfly kisses along the older witch's neck up to whisper in her ear, "Forever."

Two strong yet gentle hands cupped her cheeks and pulled her into a searing, passionate kiss. Lips demanding their fill, hungry nips and nibbles, pulling, building a fire deep inside. A low moan erupted from the older woman as she pulled the young, supple body against her own.

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The bonding magic that swirled between the two witches danced seductively throughout the various psychic planes. Swirling, twirling and curling in and out of the two women's souls. Waltzing between consciousness and dreams. Throughout the mind and into the body. As Minerva's passion rose, so did Hermione's. As Minerva's body began evidencing her passion, so did Hermione's...

Deep inside the younger woman's body, down into her womb, up to her ovaries. There was a tiny pop as an egg was released. Not to be outdone, and affected completely by the seductive magic swirling throughout, the other ovary did something that normally doesn't happen. It released an egg as well.

Two tiny, unruly little beings eyed each other from across the distance. Spying the Fallopian Tubes beckoning, the tiny beings shot off a "Cheshire Cat" grin at each other...

"Race ya!"

"On your mark, get set go!"

"Whee!"

"WoooHoooo!"

Into their respective tubes they raced.

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Clothing had somehow managed to be flung in different directions as the passion grew. Rolling about the bed, hands caressed, tweaked and teased.

Finally Minerva felt the need burning in her blood. Her soul was singing. She sat up gazing with needy lust into eyes equally needy, equally aroused. "Accio wand!" The older witch barked. Immediately the ebony length of wood soared into her hand. Placing it against her folds, she muttered, "Engorgio Clitorio!" Throwing her head back at the momentary searing pain in her pearl as it expanded. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "That bloody hurts."

She looked over at her fiance and saw widened, horrified mocha eyes, "But you said..." The young woman began.

Minerva reached over and cupped Hermione's cheek, "Only for a moment." She gave her love a reassuring smile and added, "Let's do this alright?"

The young witch nodded with a sly smile, "First I think you need to relax... Doctor's orders." She leaned down and gave her love a deep sensual kiss. Then she began kissing a firey trail down Minerva's body straight to the engorged clitoris. Eight inches of sweet lovely randiness. Dragging her tongue over the length, she smiled as her older fiance groaned her pleasure.

Suddenly there were hands in her chestnut mane, "Oh Mione..."

Hermione opened her plump lips and pulled the sensitive flesh into her eager welcoming mouth, "Mmmmmmm. You taste sooo good." She moaned seductively.

Her partner responded by thrusting her hips, arching her back and sighing her pleasure, "Merlin that feels so... so.. uhhhh."

If there was a witch on witch version of a mind numbing blow job, then Minerva McGonagall was getting it. Quite nicely.

Hermione's head bobbed up and down giving the older witch such amazing pleasure. She kept her eyes on the Headmistress. Loving the expression on Minerva's face.

Pure, raw, lip curling lust.

Faster and faster the young witch moved as she felt her lover's body tensing, gathering, readying itself. She watched as Minerva's nipples puckered into exquisite pebbles of deep rose. Reaching up, she took one of the nubs between her index finger and thumb and began rolling it gently. Applying increasing pressure as Minerva's body raced to completion.

Finally with a deep groan the older witch reached the pinnacle and fell off the edge. Straight into the waiting arms of her sweet young love.

"Mo ghoal ort Hermione." The older witch whispered as Hermione's lips released her super sensitive pearl.

Gently kissing the tip she grinned as Minerva flinched a bit, "I love you too Tabby." Her small trembling hand reached for the green bottle on the nightstand. Uncorking it, the young healer handed it to the older witch who brought the bottle to her lips.

"A sip is all it takes." Hermione whispered as she reached for her wand. Ready to help her fiance should the need arrive.

Taking a deep breath, Minerva nodded and said, "Right then." She tipped the bottle and took a sip.

It tasted right awful!

"Bleeeaack!"

Hermione sniggered and took the bottle from her lover as the older witch lay down and waited for the changes to take place.

It was a short wait....

"OH MERLIN!!!" The older witch groaned, her back arching as a stinging sensation ripped through her ultra sensitive bundle of nerves.

Hermione waved her wand silently casting a diagnostic spell. She could see what was happening inside the older witch's body. Fascinated, she watched as the seminal tube began to form inside her lover's clitoris. A graph appeared floating in the air as Hermione whispered a second spell. It would record everything from a medical point of view. Including how much pain Minerva was in.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING???" Minerva roared seeing the graph floating above her.

Hermione reached out, summoning a cool cloth from the loo. Gently she placed it on Minerva's forehead. The young witch could feel the heat emanating from the older witch and see the perspiration glowing on the creamy skin. Softly, in a calming tone, she replied, "I'm keeping an eye on you." She stroked the elegant cheek and added, "Hush, I'm here."

Calming a bit, Minerva took another deep breath. She could feel a stretching below her enlarged pearl, "Uhhhh..." She whispered closing her eyes as her body surged and gurgled as it produced a tiny pea sized testicle. A throbbing sensation reverberated in her nether region. Her body thrashed as another wave of intense pain swept through. "Ahhh OHH HERMIONE!!!" Again her back arched.

The young witch felt the tears rolling down her face. Minerva was in agony. She had to do something! Closing her eyes, she threw back her head and reached inside herself. Seeking the link between them. Pulling it to her, opening it gently, reaching inside.

There it was. She could see it. Hermione drew it into herself instantly feeling it too.

The pain.

The absolute agony.

The young witch sobbed as she curled up beside her love and lost consciousness.

Minvera felt the pain lessen quite suddenly. Opening her eyes she noticed that the floating diagnostic spell had vanished. As she turned her head, she saw why. "Oh no..." Sitting up, ignoring the ache between her legs, she leaned over the young witch curled tightly into the fetal position. "Baby?... Kitten?" She gently shook Hermione's shoulder.

The young doctor could hear her lover calling her. Minerva needed her! Chocolate eyes snapped open and she quickly sat up ignoring the momentary dizzy feeling. She was met with a very worried pair of emerald green eyes. With a small smile, she reached up and caressed the elegant, but very sweaty brow of her love, "Are you alright?" She queried, casting another diagnostic spell.

Everything appeared as she expected it to be. Minerva McGonagall was now the proud owner of a pea sized testicle connected to a seminal tube inside her clitoris. There was one other small detail that Hermione needed to attend to. With a reassuring smile, she urged Minerva to lie down so she could examine her new bits. The Headmistress was curious as well. She used her elbows for support, leaning back onto them and watched as her fiance checked her out.

The small detail Hermione was interested in was the very tip of Minerva's pearl. Gazing closely she found what she expected. A small opening had formed to allow Minerva's ejaculate to exit her body. There was a fair bit of drying blood around the new entrance as well. "How do you feel?" She wondered as she waved her wand over Minerva's altered anatomy.

The older witch took on a sardonic expression, "Like I just grew a bollock." She smirked as Hermione giggled. Watching the young healer work was a joy as well. Hermione was so dedicated and caring as she carefully cleaned and scourgified Minerva's private bits. Both new and old.

As the pain subsided it was replaced with a new, yet familiar sensation. Need. Want. Primal, base, instinctive. Minerva felt an echo of her animagus. A low growl escaped her lips.

Hermione looked up startled, Minerva was looking at her with the dirtiest, lustiest, hottest leer she had ever seen! "Oh my..."

Since they were already naked, it took little effort to slide into each other's eager arms. Lips met once again in a powerful kiss. It was different though. Darker, but not in a bad way. Almost primal, base. The urge to mate. Hermione ran her hands down Minerva's back and was startled to feel a ridge of soft fur.

"Tabby?"

It was mindless instinct what the older witch felt. Her body was on fire in a potion induced haze of lust. She needed to mate with Hermione. Running her hands over the quivering young body she was satisfied to see tight, rock hard coral colored nipples, a chest that was heaving and chocolate eyes that darkened to piercing orbs of the purest black. She could smell the earthy, womanly scent of arousal. Both her's and her mate's. She reached her hand to cup Hermione's swollen sex grinning ferally as her fingers slid through copious amounts of Hermione's thick, silky rich nectar.

Hermione Granger had never been this turned on! She felt her partner's instinctive need through their bonding and it drove her mad with need as well. She had to have Minerva inside her now!! She closed her eyes, curling her lips as two fingers penetrated her core, "Oh God yes!!" It was mad bliss, but it wasn't enough. "More please.. oh Tabby more!" Some instinct told her to roll over onto her hands and knees.

It was the right thing to do.

Minerva's lust induced haze registered her mate's movement and instinct kicked in again. The feline in her understood as well. A small yowl escaped her lips as she positioned herself behind Hermione. She reached down and gently grasped her enlarged pearl bringing it to Hermione's eagerly waiting opening. The older witch grasped her partner's hips and slowly, gently slid inside. Hermione's soft welcoming warmth enveloped her. A deep groan rumbled from the Headmistress.

Hermione let out a high pitched squeal as she felt Minerva enter her. She experienced an amazing pleasure as her inner walls stretched to accomodate Minerva's slightly larger than normal size. It was so good. So amazing. She squeezed her walls and grinned at the groaned growl that came from behind her.

"Oh Merlin!" Minerva rasped, "So good." She began thrusting deeply. Stroking Hermione like she'd never done before. Hard, passionate thrusts that forced the young witch nearly into the ornately carved headboard till she got the rhythm and began thrusting back. Both super heated witches moaned wildly.

It was a delicious, wet sticky sound that caused the older witch to thrust even faster. She yowled again, not realizing she was speaking cat.

Hermione did. It turned her on even more and she began to purr.

Hearing that, Minerva's lips curled back. She leaned over her mate's back and sunk her teeth into the young witch's shoulder.

Hermione screamed and came. Orgasming harder than she'd ever before.

Minerva felt Hermione's walls pulsing, drawing her in deeper. She became aware of a pressure sensation down in her new bits and her sinuses cleared unexpectedly. A tiny sneeze erupted as she plunged deeper. A rolling wave of familiar pleasure washed over her as she orgasmed. Moments after, she did something only a few witches had ever done.

She ejaculated.

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A tiny egg emerged out of a Fallopian Tube and into Hermione's uterus, "I win!" It looked around, "Hey? Where are you?"

There was only silence.

"Hmmm. Oh well."

Suddenly the silence was interupted by a Highland Reel! Thousands of tartan swimmers poured into the uterus.

"Hurry along lads we're nearly there!"

"Aye we're here!"

"Lads? Hey there's some lassies here to ya know!"

"Where's the party?"

The Highlanders paused for a moment and looked around. There in the corner was a tiny egg eyeing them suspiciously.

"Hmmmmm. 'Ello luv. Come 'ere often?"

"Hey who let the Irish Guy in?"

"Get 'em!!"

The majority of the Highlanders began chasing after the "Irish Guy". Some sat back and watched with amusement. One, however did not. He sidled over to the trembling egg flashing emerald eyes and said smoothly, "Can I buy you a drink?"

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-to be continued

AN: By now, I'm sure you've all realized that I am slightly mad....

* My darling, I'll love you forever.

** My woman