Minerva had never been so close to her before. She was so close – too close.
Hermione stared transfixed into the emerald eyes before her that had dominated her dreams and fantasies for so long, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears that she was sure the headmistress of Hogwarts with the senses of a cat could easily hear it.
She swallowed hard, desperately trying to moisten her dry throat and formulate words her foggy brain wasn't capable of right now.
For so many years she had wanted this closeness to Minerva, longing for it to the point that it physically hurt, and now in this moment, when her longing seemed to become reality, she was unable to react in any way.
Like a deer in headlights, she was caught in the gaze Minerva had fixed on her, as if it had created an invisible bond between their eyes, a bond that would be severed if she looked away for even a moment.
She felt the energy between them and Minerva's warmth enveloping her like a protective cocoon, in front of her Minerva's body, to her left and right Minerva's arms, still braced against the door she was leaning against.
The attraction that Hermione felt towards this woman was so huge that every fiber of her body screamed to cross the last few centimeters that separated them and to press her body against the older woman's, and never wanting to be separated from her ever again.
She wanted her so badly. She wanted to feel her, wanted to hold her, wanted to touch her in all the parts of her body that she had so often fantasized about. She wanted to know if the reality could keep up with her fantasy.
However, something in the headmistress's look told Hermione that the prestigious woman would far exceed any of her fantasies.
The thought made her shudder, which was not lost on Minerva, who was trying to figure out what was going on in Hermione's head, and judging by the smile that played on her lips, she had a good idea what her former student was thinking.
She took another small step closer to Hermione, her arms still placed on either side of Hermione's head, and Hermione's breathing quickened even more.
When she exhaled deeply enough, their breasts barely touched each other. Just that gentle touch caused a heat to rise between Hermione's legs that she had never felt before - neither with Ron nor with herself - and it took all her willpower to stay on her feet, which suddenly felt like jelly.
Minerva leaned in further, her lips just millimeters from hers. Yes, oh yes please, let this finally happen.
Hermione raised her head slightly to meet Minerva's lips, her mouth slightly open, unable to bear the tension inside herself anymore, which now simply had to be released or she thought she might burst.
But just before their lips could meet, Minerva turned her head to the side and brought her lips closer to Hermione's ear instead.
She was now completely enveloped by Minerva. The Headmistress's familiar smell of ink, old parchment and a hint of mint filled Hermione's nostrils and she had to restrain herself from burying her nose in Minerva's neck and inhaling all of her essence as if it were the air she needed to breathe.
Suddenly she felt the headmistress's hot breath on her ear and all the fine hairs on her body stood up.
"Miss Granger…" Minerva whispered in her ear, her voice soft and sensual, and Hermione felt like she was going to faint at any moment.
She couldn't believe the effect her maiden name coming from the headmistress's mouth had on her.
Oh yes, she wanted so badly to be Miss Granger for her again, her star student who craved the black-haired Scot's approval and who would do anything to satisfy the demanding older woman.
The desire to please this woman was so overwhelming that Hermione wanted to fall to her knees right there in front of her, begging to tell her what she could do to satisfy her. Anything, I'll do anything. Please just tell me what to do.
"…I'm afraid," Minerva's voice was like velvet in her ear and Hermione was about to snuggle up to her like a cat in heat, "your little literary outpourings are forcing me to take action."
What? What is that supposed to mean?
"I'm afraid, Miss Granger, that I will have to punish you for this."
Oh. My. God. Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, her pulse racing, as well as her thoughts, as every scenario she had ever imagined in connection with punishment from the witch looming in front of her was playing in fast forward inside her mind. Hermione was afraid that she would cum here and now just thinking about it, before Minerva had even touched her.
Minerva leaned her head back to look Hermione in the eyes, obviously trying to gauge what the younger woman was thinking.
She raised her hand and ran her fingers gently along her jaw. Delicate but strong fingers cupped Hermione's chin and held her head in an iron grip, no way to turn her head away even if Hermione had wanted to.
Minerva lightly stroked Hermione's lower lip with her thumb and she didn't hesitate for a second, opened her mouth, let her tongue slide out, enclosed the finger with her lips, sucked on it to pull it further into her mouth and massaged the underside of it with her tongue .
Minerva's eyes, following the movement of her finger, widened and shot upward, green eyes meeting hazel and her pupils dilating with lust.
A soft sigh escaped the usually so controlled headmistress as she pulled her thumb out of Hermione's warm mouth with a soft pop and stroked her lower lip again with the now wet finger, but this time clearly struggling with her self-control.
She swallowed audibly and looked at Hermione again. Although her eyes were still blazing with lust, Hermione could now also see a seriousness in them that worried her.
Where a fire had just burned so intensely that Hermione had felt like she was burning just by looking into those unbelievably green eyes, it was now dim. Like clouds moving in front of the sun, heralding an ominous storm.
Her voice was also serious and composed as she spoke, although still slightly hoarse from the intimate moment they had just shared, "That is...only if you still want to."
Hermione now recognized those dark thoughts floating around in the Scottish woman's head for what they were: Uncertainty. Caution. Restraint.
Hermione melted at the realization that Minerva, still ever the perfectionist and considering all eventualities, wanted to be absolutely sure that the woman standing in front of her pressed against her office door, although several years older, was still the young girl on the inside who longed for her professor. That she, Hermione, even after all the years in which she had slipped out of her student role and become an adult woman, still desired the woman in front of her, even if she was no longer her teacher. She wanted to check one last time whether her fantasies from back then were still the same as today and whether not only Miss Granger wanted Professor McGonagall, but Hermione also wanted her - Minerva, the woman behind the Transfiguration teacher and headmistress of Hogwarts and therefore one of the most powerful and influential witches of their time.
Hermione was unable to utter a clear word and could only nod silently in agreement, still completely taken aback by the turn of events.
Minerva seemed a little relieved, but Hermione could still see doubt in her eyes. She tilted her head a little in a silent question about what else was bothering the black-haired woman.
"And Ronald?" Minerva asked quietly, with a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
Anger welled up in Hermione. Of course, how could it be otherwise? As if it wasn't enough that Ron had robbed her of her happiness in life by denying her the chance for a career and letting their so-called "marriage" decay like a plant that had dried up miserably - no, now he also had to put a barrier between herself and the woman who meant the greatest happiness of all to Hermione, without even being present.
Hermione seethed at the fact that she had her happiness right in front of her in the form of bright green eyes that were watching her expectantly and cautiously at the same time, and it was about to be denied her again.
No not this time. Not again. She wouldn't allow a wall to build between her and Minerva again, not after all this time. The wall of their relationship as teacher and student had been insurmountable in the past and Hermione would never have done anything to endanger the reputation or even the life of the woman who meant so much to her.
But the wall of her marriage, which only existed on paper, did not seem at all insurmountable to her and she spoke a truth that she had only dared to think in previous years: "Just a marriage of convenience. For the children. It's only a matter of time before…"
She left the rest of the sentence unsaid. The last thing she wanted was to talk about her failed marriage right now, when the woman she wanted more than anything, and therefore her happiness, was right in front of her.
But Minerva McGonagall would not be Minerva McGonagall, the symbol of integrity and righteousness, if she simply ignored the still official marriage between Hermione and Ron.
The older woman had firm principles, as it always had been and always would be, which was exactly one of the reasons why Hermione valued her so much. But now these same principles made Minerva hesitate and back away a little, even if she had definitely heard Hermione's words.
No! Years of pent-up desire for this woman and equally pent-up anger about the way her life had turned out finally made Hermione break out of her state of shock and rush forward. She wouldn't miss the opportunity to finally be close to this woman again, and so she desperately pressed her lips to Minerva's, grasped her neck with one hand and her waist with the other, and pulled her tightly against herself.
All the frustration, desire and tension that had been building up inside her were released in one stormy kiss, as if she wanted to devour the headmistress. She sucked, bit, and licked Minerva's lips, turning her head from side to side to feel, taste, and burn every part of those soft lips into her memory forever.
Minerva was completely taken by surprise at first and although she had instinctively placed her hands on Hermione's hips, she needed a moment to move her lips and return Hermione's wild kiss.
But the older woman's animagus was not a cat without a reason and so her reflexes returned within seconds and she responded to Hermione's desire with an equal hunger.
In a battle for dominance, she removed Hermione's hands from her neck and waist, grabbed her wrists, and used her body weight to push Hermione back against the office door.
Hermione groaned as her back slammed into the wood and her wrists were held above her like a vice, with a strength that she wouldn't have thought the slim black-haired woman could have.
So trapped between the door and Minerva's warm body pressed against her, and the certainty that she couldn't move her arms, a new wave of pleasure came over Hermione and, without her help, her pelvis pressed desperately against the older woman's body, searching for friction to satisfy the throbbing need between her legs.
Minerva moved away from Hermione a little, but without loosening her grip on her wrists, and grinned. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Miss Granger. I think your penalty just increased again."
Hermione moaned, her pleasure so great that she could hardly stand it and the frustration that Minerva wasn't giving her what she wanted so badly, what she so desperately needed, was driving her crazy. "Oh please...", Hermione begged.
"What was that?" Minerva raised a playful eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips.
"Please...I can't take this." Hermione could hear the desperation in her own voice, but she didn't care. If she had to beg to get what she wanted from the woman, she would do it. She would do anything.
Minerva, who could hardly have missed the desperation in Hermione's voice, frowned briefly and tilted her head as if she were thinking hard about something. "Hmmm, what am I going to do with you?"
Her eyes wandered to the floor, where the green notebook still lay where she had dropped it earlier. She looked at it intently, as if it had the answer to her question.
She looked up at Hermione again and Hermione knew that the extremely intelligent woman was just playing with her and torturing her even longer, even though she already had a plan. Minerva always had a plan.
Hermione let out a frustrated breath, but Minerva didn't let herself be disturbed and continued to play innocent as she pretended to ponder, looking behind herself into her office as if she just needed to find the right inspiration for a suitable punishment.
Hermione fidgeted impatiently, feeling her frustration only grow. She wouldn't be able to stand this game much longer.
But when Minerva's gaze stopped at her desk and she slowly turned her head back to Hermione, her eyes shining menacingly, Hermione suddenly stopped fidgeting and her eyes widened as she suddenly realized what Minerva was referring to.
"Very well, Miss Granger. You will serve your sentence here. In my office. At my desk." The fire blazed in her eyes and Hermione could have sworn her panties were completely soaked by now as Minerva sealed her fate with a single word: "Bent over."