This goes out with a shoutout to Tas on the HG/MM Facebook group.
As always, I don't own and I certainly don't make money from these characters.
~()~
The area surrounding Hogwarts was seeing an unseasonably warm start of autumn, and compared with the chilly mists from the year before, it was stifling.
As Minerva McGonagall prepared for her seventh-year class, a wave of heat shot through her and a bead of sweat travelled down her face. Swiping it away, she flicked her wand again, and writing appeared on the board.
Minerva despised the heat of the summer, which is why she preferred living in the Highlands. She would much rather contend with a wintry blizzard, where she could control the temperature and curl up under a fleecy throw with a good book in front of a roaring fire.
The weather was also affecting her sleep, and she'd been experiencing vastly inappropriate dreams about one particular student. She was tormented by neverending scenarios of shared passion that left her body overheated in a considerably different way.
Thinking about it, as words appeared before her, she let out an exasperated breath. She'd totally forgotten that she was due to come into her heat cycle, which as a feline Animagus, presented itself twice a year without fail, sometimes more. Since the death of her partner, Amelia, at the hands of Voldemort, there would be no relief.
With the extended summer, it could affect her for more than the usual seven days and once again, she cursed her decision to become an Animagus.
Hearing the scraping of chairs against the stone floor, Minerva inhaled and caught the subtle scent of spiced ginger and warm, leathery English parchment. It soothed her but at the same time, her heart began to beat rapidly. It was a wonderful smell. Turning around, her eyes swept around the classroom until they fell on the witch who had been haunting her dreams.
Hermione Granger.
With her red and gold Gryffindor tie loosened, the top two buttons of her shirt undone and robes flowing around her, Minerva knew where the enticing scent was coming from.
Minerva's eyes swept over her student's body, noticing how her eyes twinkled and her wide smile brightened the room.
Hermione Granger.
The young woman she'd visited all those years ago to explain she was a witch.
The young woman who had grown into her intellectual equal as the brightest witch of the age.
The young woman she'd do anything to protect, including battling Bellatrix bloody Lestrange and Lord sodding Voldemort.
The young woman she knew she could easily fall in love with.
Minerva knew that she was totally and utterly screwed.
~()~
Pacing behind her desk furiously, her robes billowing around her, Minerva growled in frustration. She'd spent the better part of her seventh-year class sitting at her desk, absolutely entranced by the presence of one of her students.
It was ridiculous. She certainly should not be staring at the younger witch like a teenager with a crush. Of course, Hermione was not oblivious to her focused gaze, enough that she'd remained behind after class to ask if she was okay. She'd told the brunette she was fine and dismissed her, but all she had wanted to do was hold her close, pull the tie free, unbutton that shirt and lick and kiss the perspiring skin under it.
Damn hormones.
Dumbledore's low chuckle broke her concentration and she glared up at his portrait. "This is far from funny, Albus!" She started to pace again, muttering furiously under her breath.
Snape cleared his throat. "It is clear you have three choices, Minerva," he advised. "You can put up with it, find someone to mate with, or—" The Wizard in the portrait smirked.
Minerva stopped pacing and looked up at the dark-haired wizard. "Or?" She prompted.
"Well—" Snape sneered. "You can always get spayed."
A cacophony of laughter burst from various portraits and when she looked up, she saw Dumbledore had his head thrown back, tears streaming down his face. Offering him a glare, she then turned to Snape and growled. "I should not have to put up with such shite from you, Severus."
Holding his hands up, in an attempt at placating her, Snape backed off slightly. "I was simply trying to lighten the mood, Minerva." He looked down. "My apologies."
"I can't even transform and run off my damn frustration because Rosmerta's mangy, one-eyed Tomcat, Scab, is skulking around the school." Minerva groaned. " If that beast got his claws into me while I was in my cat form, I wouldnae stand a bloody chance." She sneered. "As it is, I'll hex the little shite if he comes near, trying to act all adorable and rubbing his stink all over me."
Dumbledore was wheezing with laughter by now, unable to get himself under control.
Growling again, she turned away from the portraits and swept from the room.
Merlin's saggy balls, it was going to be a long week.
~()~
The urgent knock on the door to her office, had her looking up from her correspondence to Kingsley. Deciding it wasn't worth it to ignore the summons, she barked out a curt "Enter" and returned to her letter. "I do not have time for—" She started to say before the familiar scent of ginger and parchment reached her. Glancing up, she saw Hermione, her head bowed so her curls covered her face and immediately noticed how her shoulders were shaking. Concerned, she rose from her desk and slowly approached the young witch. "What is it, Hermione?" She asked softly.
"I—I—" Hermione hiccupped. "Something's happening to me." She wailed. "I'm hot and itchy. I'm restless and can't concentrate on anything."
Stepping closer, she could feel the heat emanating from the younger witch, but there was more to it than that. The usually subtle scent of the younger witch was almost overpowering. "You're an Animagus." She groaned. "How long?"
"Since my sixth year. I thought I'd be okay to wait until I graduated to register with the Ministry." Hermione admitted. "But that doesn't explain anything."
Minerva took three steps back and pressed the bridge of her nose. "What are you?"
Hermione glanced up. "I'm a cat. A golden British Shorthair, nothing special."
"You're coming into your first heat cycle, Hermione," Minerva explained. "You need to find a mate."
"But—" Hermione looked aghast.
Snape's low voice reached her. "Perhaps this is the answer to cure our esteemed Headmistress's frustration."
Minerva glanced at the brunette, realising she'd also caught the words.
"Your frustration?" Hermione questioned taking a step closer.
"I am also experiencing my heat cycle." She moved backwards with each step Hermione took until she hit her desk. "It gets easier." She inched sidewards, ready to rush around her desk and to safety. The scent of the younger witch was bringing her Animagus to the forefront of her mind, and it was demanding control. Since she normally had complete control of her Animagus instincts, Minerva frowned when she explored the feelings stimulating her Animagus into such unusual behaviour.
Arousal.
The intoxicating pheromones wafting from Hermione had her tabby wanting to claim the witch. She felt the deepest animalistic urge to mate, to bite down at the junction of her throat where her neck met the gentle slope of her shoulders.
"Hermione," she ground the name out between clenched teeth. "You should leave. Right now."
The brunette stood there, simply staring at her with those large hazel eyes, not reacting to the directive.
Losing what little was left of her control as her Animagus pushed forward, she propelled herself from her desk, stalking forward. Her hungry gaze took in the look of surprise and growing desire in Hermione's eyes.
"Professor—" Hermione held her hands out as if that would stop her.
"Perhaps you really knew what was happening, Hermione." Minerva purred. "If you didn't, your Animagus surely did."
"Minerva, I didn't—" Hermione stalled when she breached the distance, stepping as close as she could without actually touching her.
Inhaling sharply, she took in the most mouthwatering scent she'd honestly ever come across. "You're in heat." Minerva gave the brunette a small yet feral smile. "I'm in heat." Her head cocked to the side, appraising the witch. "You're making it somewhat hard to resist."
"I—I should be going now." Hermione insisted, looking like it was the last thing she wanted.
Seeing this, Minerva took the final step, pressing against the younger witch and blocking any potential escape. "Are you sure that's what you want?"
Hermione inhaled and moaned, clearly picking up on her growing arousal. "No." She shook her head and wrapped her arms around Minerva before letting out a soft mewl and nuzzling into the crook of her neck.
Minerva purred in satisfaction and bending her head, she licked at the slightly glistening skin beneath her lips, marvelling when Hermione moved her head to give her more access.
Focussing on pulling the wards around her, with a small crack, she apparated them into her chambers.
~()~
Minerva shook her head, trying to clear her mind. Looking down, she saw the smaller witch wrapped in her arms. "Hermione, if you don't want this to happen you must tell me now," she said, offering the other witch an out from the situation, knowing it was the right thing to do.
"Please!" Hermione whimpered. "I need you." She was breathless and panting softly. "Only you. Please."
With those words, something primal was unleashed in the Headmistress. Lifting Hermione's face, she crashed their lips together. Their tongues met and she was unsure which one of them let out a moan of pleasure.
Her hands began moving, tearing the barrier of clothing between them away until only Hermione's skimpy knickers stood between their bare skin. Breaking the kiss to pull the last item of clothing off, she picked the younger witch up and threw her down onto the middle of her large four-poster bed. Not that Hermione seemed to mind, especially when she leaned up and gripped Minerva firmly to pull her flush against her, holding her snuggly between her parted thighs.
Minerva began kissing, licking and nipping her way down Hermione's neck while her fingers toyed with her nipples. Hermione let out a loud moan, rolling her hips, seeking friction. At the sensation of Hermione's desire for her coating her skin, she growled and moved her lips from the juncture of the younger witch's neck, to swipe her tongue across her clavicle, her mind set on only one destination.
Hermione's perfect breasts.
Her tongue lavished the skin beneath her lips before swirling her tongue around a dusky nipple.
"More," Hermione pleaded. "Please, Minerva. I need you."
Reaching out a hand, Minerva cast the wandless charm. "Accio wand." When it landed in her hand, she flicked it towards her pelvis and groaned as pain lanced through the area.
Hermione's small yelp when she felt Minerva's new appendage was not surprising but her response after it was. She threaded her hands into her hair, pulling her away from her breast and lifting her face to capture her lips in a scorching kiss, their tongues entwining and fighting for dominance.
Minerva moaned, savouring the feeling of her skin against Hermione's, as they moved against each other.
Pulling back with a low groan, a few minutes later, Minerva allowed herself to glance down into Hermione's bright hazel eyes. Her hair was mussed and curlier than ever, her lips swollen and partially open as she breathed heavily. She stared right back at her with a cheeky grin playing at her beautifully full lips.
Holding Hermione's gaze, Minerva shifted until she was resting both of her hands above her shoulders and the heat she could feel, on top of the slickness, made her desire to mate with the amazing witch more urgent. She inhaled, breathing in Hermione's scent once again, allowing it to surround her and moving slightly, she dragged the head of her newly formed cock between puffy lips, coating it in the brunette's arousal.
"Oh, Merlin! Please, Minerva—please, I want you inside me." Hermione gasped, her back arching showing what she wanted.
Minerva let loose a deep growl and she slipped inside slowly, gritting her teeth as the inner walls clamped down around her and she met resistance.
"Oh, Minerva. Yes!" Hermione wailed, her hands grabbing the sheets below her. "Harder." She begged.
"I don't want to hurt you," Minerva moaned.
"Please, please, please," Hermione begged.
Taking a deep breath, Minerva pushed forwards without stopping until she bottomed out. She could recognise that the resistance she'd met meant that Hermione was a virgin and enjoyed the thought of being the first to claim her.
Giving the younger witch a few moments to get used to the stretch, she tried to contain herself and remain gentle. Minerva swallowed hard and withdrew before tilting forward again, moving slowly and steadily, inch by excruciating inch.
Minerva groaned as Hermione's passage tightened, squeezing her transfigured clit. She looked down at Hermione's face, noticing how the pleasure flushed her cheeks.
She felt her own orgasm approaching quickly and started to move quicker, her hands gripping Hermione's hips tightly.
"Merlin! Harder. Please." Hermione cried. "Minerva!"
Minerva tightened her hold on Hermione's thigh and she rocked her hips forward forcefully, setting an unrelenting pace.
Hermione's body trembled and she moaned or whimpered in desperate unarticulated pleasure with each fierce thrust. "Oh—" Her back lifted off the bed and her toes curled and her muscles clenched into tight coils as she fell over the precipice into her first orgasm.
Minerva was lost to the pleasure, every inhibition disappearing with each shuddering breath and moan that tore from the witch below.
The air between them was heavy and as Minerva forced her eyes open and looked down she knew she never wanted another warming her bed.
It would only ever be Hermione.
"Oh, mo ghràidh—Hermiooneeee!" Miranda cried out lustfully, only moments away from orgasm.
With her fingers still gripping Hermione's hips she bent and took her lips in a desperate kiss. When they eventually parted, needing air, she breathed deeply before trailing her lips back to the fluttering pulse point. She could feel the rapid thrum of the thunderous heartbeat under her lips.
Hermione tilted her head to the side, baring her neck to the headmistress in a surprising act of submission. The subservient action caused Minerva to growl, the sound reverberating through the chamber.
Minerva continued to thrust, she was so so close, and Hermione's body was trembling as another orgasm crept upon her.
She nuzzled at Hermione's neck, the tips of her teeth scraping the juncture between her neck and shoulder. It would be easy to bite down and mark Hermione, claiming her as her own, and she couldn't find a single reason not to do so.
Every fibre of her being wanted the younger witch. To make sure that Hermione was only ever hers.
Minerva gentled her thrusts as the body below her clenched and tightened.
"I love you." Hermione panted. "I love you, Minerva, so much. Merlin! Please."
The pulsating walls around her caused a thrill of exhilaration to course through her, pushing her into her orgasm. Eventually, she gave one last thrust and lost in the moment, mouth still attached to the fluttering pulse point, she sank her teeth into Hermione's neck.
No one else would ever have Hermione. She would be hers, forever.
~()~
Minerva hadn't attended breakfast or lunch. Having woken up alone, she didn't want to face her staff or her students, especially the young witch who had shared her bed for those few blissful hours. She couldn't bear to see Hermione and face her rejection.
Looking at the clock, she realised it was almost time for dinner. She had spent part of the afternoon trying to decide whether she should attend dinner in the Great Hall or have the Elves prepare something for her to nibble on while she worked at her desk before berating herself for her cowardice.
Standing up, she straightened her robes and left her office, making her way slowly down the corridors.
Eventually reaching the Great Hall, she heard the sound of chatter and laughter and sighed. Making her way through the hall, she nodded in passing at the students who shouted their greetings to her before stalling momentarily at the sight of the witch that had been at the centre of her thoughts since she'd awoken that morning. There was a blush creeping up the brunette's cheeks and she looked down at her plate quickly. Shaking herself from her sudden funk, she continued on her way, making her way to the professor's table and seating herself on the chair at the centre of the long table.
"You look like someone's taken your favourite toy," Rolanda whispered.
Minerva took a sip of her water and sighed. "I'm fine." Her eyes swept the hall, landing on the young witch she'd claimed. Realising Rolanda had followed her gaze, she tore her eyes away.
Rolanda leaned in, her breath tickling her ear. "She loves you, you know?"
"I don't think so." Minerva pursed her lips and picked up her knife and fork. She began to cut the roast beef and potatoes on her plate into bite-sized pieces.
"I know so." Rolanda insisted quietly. "And I know you claimed her."
"It should never have happened," Minerva explained sadly.
"So you shag her, take her virginity, then just toss her aside? Who are you?" Rolanda hissed. "You can't undo that bond, Min."
"You don't know anything about it," Minerva growled. "She was the one who left this morning." Realising she'd lost what little appetite she had, she stood swiftly and made to move away. Feeling a hand on her bicep, she gave the silver-haired, yellow-eyed witch the evil eye.
"She thought you'd regret it, Min, since you didn't return her sentiments." Rolanda cocked her head. "I never thought I'd have to say this, but if you love her, you should tell her before Weasley swoops in and stakes his claim."
Rolanda's words weren't intended to hurt, but they did. "Ridiculous." Sitting down again, she exhaled, trying to calm herself.
"Is it?" Rolanda grinned. "If you lose her to that moron, you're an idiot."
Minerva watched glumly as Ronald Weasley put his arm around her witch and pulled her close.
~()~
Minerva snuggled under the covers. It had been a shite day. She hadn't had a chance to speak with Hermione after dinner since she'd been pulled away by her friends as soon as they finished eating. Instead, she'd quietly made her way in her Animagus form to Gryffindor Tower and left the witch a note, asking for them to talk. She'd hoped to see the brunette before curfew.
She thought of Rolanda's words when she left the Great Hall after dinner and the Flying instructor had rushed to catch up to her.
"I don't know why you don't just tell her you love her," Rolanda spoke in hushed tones, unwilling to be overheard.
"Ro, please don't start this up again. She doesn't love me, it was only said in the heat of the moment." Minerva was tired of thinking about it, and talking about it only made her feel worse.
"She does. You didn't see her this morning." Rolanda insisted. "But I did. I caught her sneaking back up to the tower, tears streaming down her face. I ended up taking her to my office and we had a cup of tea while she calmed down."
Minerva shook her head. "Okay fine. Let's say she is in love with me. She's still my student, Ro."
"Only because she wanted to be able to spend another year in your presence," Rolanda smirked. "She could have easily completed her NEWTs before the school year began. She's nineteen, of legal age and more sensible than most witches our age. Why are you being so stubborn about this? She lights up for you in a way I've never seen her do with anyone else, not even that lanky mong."
Minerva sighed. She couldn't believe what she'd done the night before, but she didn't regret it. Snuggling into the pillow Hermione had rested on the night before, she inhaled the lingering scent of the witch, then jumped when she felt a small, warm hand on her shoulder.
When she turned her face and looked up, there stood Hermione, her eyes dull and worried. "Hermione," Minerva whispered.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you. I've been up in the Astronomy Tower all night and only just got your note." Hermione explained, shivering slightly.
The night had grown cool after the heat of the previous weeks. A sign that the weather was breaking.
"That's okay." Minerva scooted back slightly and patted the mattress next to her. "I'm glad you came."
She wanted to tell Hermione how she felt but was petrified.
What would a lovely young witch with her whole life ahead of her want with an old hag like her?
Hermione smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. She seemed uncomfortable as she sat hesitantly beside her. "What did you want to talk to me about?" She asked nervously.
"You and Mr Weasley seemed cosy at dinner," Minerva said, without thinking.
Hermione blushed. "He was concerned. He reckons I seem a little withdrawn today. Was that all you wanted to talk about?"
"No," Minerva admitted. "I wanted to speak with you about what happened last night."
"Minerva I've been worried sick about how you were going to react to what happened. I thought you'd be angry at me for not leaving when you told me to. And every time I hoped to see you at mealtimes, you weren't there. I miss you when I don't see you and it's making me feel like I'm going crazy. You don't understand how much you mean to me." Hermione was babbling and it was adorable. "While Ron's been asking me out since the end of the war, I've refused. He's not the one I want."
"I love you," Minerva blurted, she was so happy that Hermione had come to see her. Scooting close and pressing her head into Hermione's shoulder, she whispered, "I love you so much."
"I love you too, and have for a long time." Hermione bent her head and placed a kiss on the top of her head, while her hand stroked her back soothingly. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Hermione pulled back. "What does mo ghràidh mean?" She asked.
Offering a small smile, Minerva translated the words for the other witch. "My beloved."
"Am I?" Hermione questioned hesitantly.
"Aye, mo ghràidh, you are. Chan eil dad cho luachmhor dhomh." Minerva spoke gently. "Nothing is as precious to me."
"Can I stay with you tonight?" Hermione grinned cheekily, her eyes finally sparkling in the way they were meant to.
"Aye, I suppose so." Minerva grinned back. "Come on, mo ghràidh, we should try to sleep."
"Yeah, alright." Hermione's grin widened as she banished her clothes and slid into bed beside her, as naked as the day she was born.
~()~
After organising to take her NEWTs early, Hermione left Hogwarts. Many people had asked why and she shrugged before explaining that while she hoped to see the school year out, at nineteen, she felt out of place and didn't appreciate the people she fought alongside as an equal having to revert to treating her like a child.
She claimed she was ready to leave and take the rest of the year to decide what she wanted to do next.
The rumour mill was in full swing, and people discussed how she'd apparently purchased a small cottage in Hogsmeade, using the Galleons she'd received when given an Order of Merlin for her contributions to the war effort.
What the gossip-mongers didn't know was that the cottage belonged to Minerva. It was the one she once shared with Elphinstone and with it set back off the path between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade and hidden behind a large hedgerow, it offered privacy to her and her mate. Very few even knew it existed.
What no one knew, except for less than a handful of people, was that they planned to marry. While Harry Potter had been stunned to be told of the mating and the consequent change in their relationship, he offered the unfailing support that Hermione had always given him in return.
He'd stood beside her that afternoon as her witness, while Rolanda stood beside Minerva and Kingsley Shacklebolt preceded over the ceremony.
After the ceremony, when Kingsley asked why they'd been in such a rush to marry, Hermione gave her usual Cheshire cat grin before responding. "I honestly couldn't wait to be able to say Minerva McGonagall is all mine."
Minerva couldn't have stopped the smile forming at the words, even if she wanted to.
Rolanda sidled up to Harry and winked to take the attention away from them and stall any further questions. "You know, the best man," she waved her hand at him, "usually ends up with the maid of honour" She gestured to herself. "How about it, Potter? I could show you a damn good time."
When Harry's face was suffused with a deep blush and he gaped open-mouthed at the flying instructor, and with Minerva, Hermione and Kingsley all trying to bite back their laughter, she clapped him on the back.
"No need to worry lad, your redhead's more my type." Rolanda cackled. "I bet she's a spitfire, eh, Potter?"
~()~
The sound that tore from Minerva when Hermione penetrated her was feral and caused Hermione to moan loudly in response.
"'Hermione!" Minerva called out as two fingers pushed deep into her. She arched and moaned loudly and began to roll her hips meeting the thrusting fingers. "Oh, mo ghràidh. Tha thu foirfe dhomhsa (You are perfect for me)."
"Merlin, Minerva, you're the perfect one." Hermione panted.
"I've never felt like this before," Minerva confessed breathlessly. "Mo bhean bhòidheach (My beautiful wife).
"Fuck!" Hermione cussed. "You're gorgeous."
Their climaxes, when they arrived, were intense, with muscles gripping the fingers still buried deep in Minerva while Hermione rocked herself against a toned thigh. With Hermione hovering over Minerva, the majority of her weight resting on her elbows, when she tried to catch her breath, her head fell to the older woman's shoulder, lips pressing against the pale skin before moving up and unable to stop herself, biting down causing Minerva to whimper as another orgasm crashed through her.
She belonged to Hermione as surely as Hermione belonged to her.
Their bond was complete.
An hour later, Minerva led Hermione to the bathroom and started running a bath before lighting candles so the only light came from the flickering wicks.
Handing Hermione over the lip and into the warm, scented water, she stepped behind her and settled against the tub while her wife lay between her legs.
"This feels so nice" Minerva sighed in contentment and let her thoughts wander to the future, curious as to what it would hold for them.
A whisper against her ear brought Minerva's focus back to the room and to the witch sprawled in front of her.
"By the way, Tabby, I'm pregnant."
~()~