It was odd, this never-ending heat burning within Hermione's loins. Coming and going as it pleased and at the most inopportune times of the night, it was a nuisance she found herself quarreling with more and more frequently.
Sometimes she'd wake drenched in sweat and breathing like a mounted stallion on a fox hunt yet no terror course through her veins, no monster lie lingering within her dreams. No, the feeling that overwhelmed her was anything but fright. Embers of blazing flames that once licked her inner thighs still smoldered.
But the heat was unlike anything the young girl ever felt. It was would suddenly flare to life causing a small gush of liquid heat to saturate her knickers.
Nobody knew it of course and nobody would ever know but for all Hermione's intelligence the brilliant girl knew very little about herself. Well, to be more specific she knew little to nothing about the feminine body. Her mother passed away when she was but a girl and her father, bless his soul, only had as much knowledge as she did on the subject. So she pretended or merely kept quiet about it even though questions burned in her mind were constant.
Oh, she tried mind you to research the matter only to slam the book closed with her face flushed crimson. Never again-she vowed. Yet the questions still remained. Why did this keep occurring? Why did it, dare she say it, feel pleasurable?
When it first occurred, she panicked thinking that she'd urinated the bed, she hastily yanked the covers back and pushed her nightgown up-nothing. Well, nothing colored, overly wet, or smelly that is so she knew it wasn't urine which was a small, but nevertheless welcome relief. Yet despite the fact her bottom sheet remained dry her knickers were completely soaked. Puzzled by the abnormality she hesitantly drawled the saturated material down only to find once again-nothing.
Ever inquisitive, sight did little to quell Hermione's curiosity so she enlisted another sense for the duty. Touch. Timid as a mouse, she brought a hand to the ran her finger through the wet material her anxiety rose once more when she found a strange sticky clear fluid.
And so it begun. The ruined pairs of knickers, countless sleepless nights, the non-stop fretting on whether she was going mad or not. It was an endless cycle and one that was beginning to take a major toll on the bright girl.
"Now when transforming such a large creature one must use a bit of caution or the results can be disastrous. For instance; Isobel Blackstone a fifth year student in the year eighteen hundred and sixty-two attempted to in a moment of brazen," A faintly Scottish accented voice droned on, capturing the unwavering attention of twenty-five pupils. Save for one.
Hermione's eyelids sagged as Morpheus beckoned her into his sweet embrace.
She was slipping.
The girl snapped to attention so quickly she nearly fell out of her desk, causing the classroom to erupt with a thunderous round of laughter.
Doe met fiery feline and Hermione gave the peeved woman a sheepish smile. "Yes, Professor?"
"You will remain with me after class. Is that understood?" She demanded in that sharp Scottish/British accent that never failed to make the girl shiver.
Hermione hung her head in shame as the others in the classroom giggled and made Ooo noises. "Yes, Professor."
The Transfiguration Professor gave her a curt nod before striding back to her desk and commencing with the lesson.
All the while, Hermione was wishing to whatever deity there was above for a rock to appear so she'll have something to crawl under.
The sound of the clock chiming caused Hermione to startle. Her stomach flipped flopped whilst her heart began to pound. She'd never been in trouble like this before. Not by herself at least usually the boys were included.
Once the entire class was empty asides for the two witches, Minerva strode over to Hermione and stood in front of her with clasped hands lain against her torso. "Care to explain to me, why were you sleeping in my class, Ms. Granger?"
Chocolate eyes seemed to find the swirling wood pattern along the desk's surface very interesting that moment."I'm sorry, Professor. I was studying last night and lost track of time."
"Look at me when you're speaking." The Transfiguration professor commanded harshly making the girl to cringe.
Hermione reluctantly lifted her gaze only to wince when her eyes locked onto hardened emeralds. "It's not like you to lie, Ms. Granger, so why don't you do us both a favor and just tell me the truth."
An intense moment passed until finally, Hermione relented.
"The truth is professor is that I've been having trouble sleeping." She admitted which was partially true, but still the truth nonetheless.
Minerva leaned forward and her nostrils flaring a bit as her pupils dilated. "Oh? Is it night terrors?"
"No, Professor, I-I well you see," The girl pinkened to a near Weasley red. "I um I think something's wrong with me."
Minerva's face softened a bit to something akin to concern. "What is it? Are you alright? Shall I owl Madam Pomfrey?"
Hermione's eyes widened. She didn't want anybody to know she was a freak of some sort. "No!" She called out with a little too much force. "I mean no, Professor. That won't be necessary. I've just been a little bit more--energetic during the night is all. Must have something to do with the time turner or some deal. May I go now?" The brunette babbled out wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole at that moment.
Minerva's face hardened into disbelief and she crossed her arms over her chest. "No, you may not." She stated, peering down at the girl over a pair of half-moon shaped glasses. "Do you take me for a fool, Ms. Granger?"
"I uh no, Professor." Hermione uncharacteristically sputtered.
"Then why do you keep lying to me?"
Hermione opened and closed her lips like a guppy. She very well couldn't tell the woman the reason for the lies nor the late nights, could she? God, no. Hermione would rather die than admit what goes on in her bed at night to anyone. She was already an outcast here; a mudblood egghead with only two friends who if she thought about it long enough would admit that they only kept her around mainly due to the scores on her papers.
She didn't need to add onto the fact that her knickers were being ruined nightly by some unknown occurrence.
"Very well, Ms. Granger," The final tone snapping Hermione out of the self-loathing cloud. "if you won't tell me then I shall find out for myself."
The older witch declared and her heart dropped. No.
"Professor, that, you-"
A hand being held up stopped her. "That's enough, Ms. Granger. You had your chance to tell me the truth now I'll just have to find out for myself.
"But Professor, you-"
"I said that's enough. Now, you may leave."
Hermione slammed her mouth shut, nodding as she stood up and begun to gather up her things.
It wasn't until she was halfway down the hall that her brain finally decided to jump start. What on earth was she going to do? She couldn't let McGonagall find out about her condition or the woman would think she was a freak of some sort. Hermione's face contorted in aghast at the mere thought of it. No, that couldn't/wouldn't happen. She must think of something quickly to hide it or else she wind up losing everything.
Head hung low, Minerva pretended to scan over the odd Transfiguration paper as to not draw attention to the darkening of her eyes and the flaring of her nostrils working restless, sucking in lungful after lungful of the perfumed rich air. This been occurring for weeks now and it quite literally was making her inner kitty purr. Minerva chanced a glance and inwardly growled when her eyes landed on the source.
Hermione Granger; the girl's scent had become more and more intoxicating as the days passed. Arousal saturated that entire shapely body, following the young cub in a thick cloud that beckoned Minerva like a siren's call. Drawing the older witch in willingly and not letting her go.
She subtly scanned over the girl, drinking in the form greedily. Small breasts just large enough to fit into the palm of one's hand, a slightly rounded stomach that was flat more due to the girl's youth than through exercise, and if the desk were not in the way she could see hips rounded and spread out naturally readying the feminine body for childbirth. Minerva licked her suddenly dry lips as her core twitched.
It'd been ages since a student had tempted her so.
No, she growled. Her animagus and teacher warred against one another until finally primal won out against human prudence.
She'll have this girl and soon.
Minerva noticed the girl beginning to nod off. And sooner it shall be.
The rest of the day was layered with so much worry, anxiety and faux scenarios all ending in humiliating ways that by the end of the day Hermione was completely exhausted yet giddy all at the same time. But it was not the kind of excitement one relishes in rather the nauseating horrible feeling of dreaded anticipation. Images of the older woman finding out and being completely disgusted assaulted her ruthlessly. God, what was she going to do? The brunette wrung her hands as she paced the room.
Nervously, she tugged on her night gown as she unconsciously side-eyed the door.
A few sharp raps at the door startled the brunette. "Oh God," Hermione breathed with eyes wide and hand over her pounding heart. Well, this was it.
"Come-" She swallowed thickly. "Come in!"
Not even a second later the door swung open revealing the source of Hermione's worries and fear herself, Professor McGonagall. The older woman was still clad in her teaching robes with her face in its usual stern expression yet there was something different in her eyes, something Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on.
Minerva sauntered fully into the room, her keen feline eyes roamed over the trembling the girl. Honey curls slightly mussed, eyes large and doe-like, and body covered in a white knee length nightgown. Hermione Granger was the picture of innocence yet practically screamed naughty and forbidden. Minerva mouth grew dry, but she resisted the urge to lick her lips and cleared her throat instead.
"Alright, Ms. Granger, let's see if we can resolve this problem tonight." She declared with a slight quirk of the lips before flicking her wand and transfiguring her teaching robes to a borderline inappropriate nightgown.
The girl's eyes grew large and she visibly gulped causing the the feline to purr in satisfaction. "Yes, Professor." Smiling just a tad bit more, Minerva said not a word just made a beeline to the bed and climbed in, but soon regretted her haste when the sharp movement of the blankets caused a wave of Hermione's heady scent to slam into her nostrils.
Merlin help her. It was all she could do to hold back a moan.
Minerva inhaled deeply then blinked a couple of times to sooth the raging beast and only when she finally managed to gain control of it did she turn a curious eye over to the girl.
Oh for Circe's sakes. Must the girl be so adorable. She thought with a groan.
Hermione stood just at the foot of the bed with bovine eyes wide and her pearly white teeth nibbling on her bottom lip appearing all sorts of uncomfortable. Prey, she looked like prey
"Well, get in. I shan't bite." Minerva half joked even as she felt her canine's tingle at the mere thought of sinking them into milky flesh.
The cub nodded then shuffled over to her side of the bed and slid underneath the covers.
Hermione jolted awake drenched in a sweat, breathing heavily, and something pressed firmly between her legs. Mind sluggish and eyes blurry with slumber, she blinked a couple of times then gasped when she noticed the position she was in. On her side, Hermione's head lie on the Professor's chest and one of her arms across her surprisingly firm torso. But that wasn't what made her gasp. No, that honor fell to just how her legs were situated.
To Hermione's immense horror, one was thrown over the older woman's hip and the other was somehow tucked underneath another pair of long legs causing the sensitive place between her legs to be firmly pressed against the Professor's hip bone. And from what she could feel the dreaded wetness was currently not only seeping through her knickers but it was also beginning to dampen her teacher's nightgown.
"Oh God," She attempted to scramble backwards only to gasp out sharply when the movement pressed her forbidden area even harder against bone.
"Ms. Granger," A voice rumbled from above.
Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach and her face burned hotly. She resolutely turned her gaze upward to the other woman only to find her staring down at her. "Yes, Professor?"
In the gloom emeralds glinted knowingly. "Is this what's been bothering you?" Minerva questioned whilst giving the girl's lower half pointed look.
Hermione closed her eyes tightly and readied herself for further humiliation before stuttering out a meek. "Ye-yes."
A light chuckle rumbled from the Professor and Hermione couldn't help but think it sounded more malevolent than humorous. "Oh my dear, there is nothing to be ashamed of."
The girl's eyelids popped open and she glanced back upward at her elder, chocolate orbs glistening with puzzlement. What did she mean? Of course it was shameful. She just bloody wet herself all over the Professor's hip.
"All young women go through this very same thing. Your body is just changing is all." Minerva reassured in that soft Scottish burr of hers though inwardly she was a chaotic mess of pheromones and animal instinct.
The girl's confusion deepened. "Wha?"
"Your body is at that stage where patience is of little to no virtue. It's too young for such things so it begs, no demands what it wants." The Transfiguration Professor lamented further.
Hermione felt her stomach roll unpleasantly. What could her body possibly want that badly for it would keep her awake for weeks? "Bu-but what does it want, Professor? What does it need?"
A slight tug of the lips and Minerva lowered her face until it was but a breaths way away from the girl. "Why to be touched, Ms. Granger."
Minerva smiled, possessively tightening her grip around the girl. Such an innocent little kitten. "Yes, at your age it's quite common for your body to.. scream out for the touch of another." Or your own.
Doe eyes, wide and glimmering, met Minerva's in the darkness."Really?" The need for reassurance in that one word like a needy child relentlessly tugging upon their mother's sleeve for her undivided attention. The feline practically cooed. How adorable. She softly petted Hermione's golden mane.
"Yes," Temptation cast out, a cork atop the surface of a lake sitting motionless whilst the ever keen eyes of a fisherman watched onward, waiting.
"But-but isn't that wrong?" Ah now there was a loaded question. One with multiple answers and all of which were not exactly truthful. So right then Minerva knew she could easily lie, telling ever eager ears what they wanted to hear.
"Some may think so, yes." She found herself admitting. No sense in leaving Hermione unprepared for the world. Especially if her in between times were spent with the Weasleys. Honestly, one has to seriously wonder how a prudish woman such as Molly Prewett was even able to produce a litter of that size when even the word 'intercourse' causes her to swoon like a virgin after their first glimpse down Rosmerta's cleavage.
"I, however, think it's perfectly natural." Oh of course you do, you sly old tom. Few knew or chose not to acknowledge it, but in Minerva's animagus form she was a fully intact male. How that came about was anybody's guess. Dumbledore himself theorized it might be due to her sexuality. Which was beyond...well, she had no words. After all, what good was having a cock in animal form? It wasn't like she could woo and mount a woman in fur. A female cat in estrus, yes, but she'll be damned if she turned out to be the likes of Mr. Pettigrew whom everyone suspected more than doubled the population of rodents at Hogwarts when he was scurrying through the pipes. Disgusting creature. Merciful her human form remained as it were. Thank Merlin above. Just the mere thought of having a tiny, spiky thing dangling between her legs made Minerva shudder unpleasantly. Thankfully, however, in this particular moment more pressing matters were on the mind.
At the approval, Minerva can practically see proverbial pointed ears perk.
A gleaming Cheshire grin in the darkness. "Of course."
"But who? How? I.." Hermione sputtered, struggling to understand.
"Shh shh calm yourself, dear, before you spontaneously combust." Minerva quipped, chuckling only to sober up just as quickly when the girl's expression remained confusingly lost.
Her face softened. "The who, is of your choosing. The how, well-is for you both to work out."
The girl seemed to mulled over the answer hard before a tiny light of epiphany flickered. Hermione lifted her head though didn't look Minerva in the eye. "Can you-can you show me?"
Excitement swelled and burst behind the curtain yet through no small effort on Minerva's part remained firmly tucked away. "If that is what you want. What you truly want..." Consent was everything in that moment. Without it all was lost, with it so much will be gained.
The timidest of nods was given.
That will do. The tom grinned roguishly. Minerva though mentally shook her in head, admonishing the old cat. No, more was needed. "Are you absolutely sure?" Firm, but gentle it demanded voice.
Hermione blushed profusely. "Yes,"
The older woman stared pensively at her for a long moment then finally nodded. "Very well," She pushed the girl over a bit to give them some room and turned over onto her side. This truly was the best position for teaching without overwhelming.
Minerva placed a hand just below a gulping neck, sliding her thumb back and forth slowly before going down further to the frilly collar of her pyjamas. She fingered the material and heard a gasp, looking up she was confronted by blown pupils swirling with wells of emotions.
"Just relax, my dear." Tone full of aged firewhiskey, smooth yet strong. One must be gentle, kind and take things slow with kittens lest you frighten them beyond the point of taming.
Minerva's hand ghosted underneath the covering, seeking the most precious of treasures. Once there she palmed the closest one gently. Hermione's breathing quickened, heart pounded. She felt as though she was on the very verge of hyperventilating.
The mentrations slowed to a crawl. "Shh easy, my dear. T'will be alright."
Taking a deep breath, the girl willed herself to calm, but not fully. Her small breast heaved against Minerva's palm its taut wee nipple hard as diamonds. Young body knowing exactly what was taking place even if her mind had yet to comprehend it, Hermione was in complete blissful turmoil. She let out a small moan, but instantly flushed like the maiden she was.
Minerva's eyes laughed as she flashed her a reassuring smile before scooching down. Her hands immediately beginning to roam over the thick cotton, sliding sensually over chest and belly until it captured the laced hem resting on pale thighs. Minerva plucked it almost playfully. "Take this off."
Hermione awkwardly sat up and with trembling slow, ever so slow hands she tugged it off, revealing a vast sea of snow which contained coral peaks and sable curls. She laid back down beside the older woman in the same pace.
Minerva leaned over and mouthed her neck, earning a squeal followed by a moan. Taking a bit of flesh between her teeth she clamped down gently, claiming what was hers. A slight mew emerged from Hermione's throat, and Minerva soothed it with a quiet hum against her neck. She moved her head lower, and paused. The flushed slope of heaving breasts, keeping her hypnotised. They danced in the rhythm of life itself. Beckoning. Minerva was hopeless to resist such an enticing offer.
She took one into her mouth, swirling around a peaked nipple until it hardened against her tongue, delighting when a soft moan reached her ear.
Minerva switched to the other side, repeating the process until they ached, she pulled back with subtle wet pop. Her right hand splayed across the curve of a soft firm abdomen, her thumb along side Hermione's navel, fingers dipping into heady curls.
"Open your legs for me." She husked, hoarse with desire.
The girl obliged timidly, gnawing on her bottom lip and darting her eyes everywhere, but at Minerva. They spread like Morpheus' blanket welcoming Minerva to fulfill her dreams.
A provocative purr of appreciation and Minerva's fingers slipped further still, dragging them through a soft triangle of curls shielding the most sensitive parts from her hunger gaze. No matter. She pressed onward, lower, to trace swollen lower lips with her fingertips.
"Professor," Her title a prayer on pink lips.
"Patience, my dear." Minerva whispered against the shell of Hermione's ear, satisfaction filling her when she felt a shudder. Chocolate eyes fluttered beneath eyelids heavied by lust.
With a delicate touch the spring flower bloomed and dewed, coating her middle finger as it slid in between. At the abundance of wetness, Minerva herself groaned. Gods help her.
She stroked her slowly, unhurried despite the delightful noises and the quivering of muscles. Her fingertips drew moisture up and down Hermione's bundle of nerves with the most faintest agonizing pressure, just enough to turn gasping into a slight moan. Minerva pulled her hand away and brought it to her face, inhaling deeply Hermione's intoxicating scent, swirling her tongue around every finger. Her eyelids fluttered closed as heady mixture washed over her palette, she rolled her tongue, savoring the taste like fine wine.
A whimper brought her back. She opened them once more only to find glistening eyes peering back. A doeling pleading to the goddess of wisdom for a little death. How appropriate. Minerva smiled inwardly as she leaned down, kissing each of Hermione's inner thighs.
The girl arched begging upon proverbial knees for Minerva to ascend.
She thought about prolonging the inevitable, but who was she to deny a young lady such pleasure. Minerva closed the distance, burying her face between Hermione's thighs.
"Oh," It came out a breathless shock and it was the sweetest sound Minerva ever heard. She slid her tongue up and down Hermione's swollen clit, flicking it occasionally just to get a sharp gasp. Up and down, side to side, the girl was absolutely delicious. Minerva carefully slipped inside and felt inner walls squeeze around her tongue, trying with all their might to suck her in.
Hermione began panting rapidly, softly and slowly rocking her hips.
"Professor, I uh..please.."
Minerva felt her shiver and slid her hands underneath Hermione's behind and lifted her up until she was wide open and flush against her entire mouth. She reached deeper, hitting places once hidden, causing the girl to thrash against the mattress. The rhythm grew more vigorous as Hermione matched Minerva's thrust for thrust, clawing at the bedspread and the hair bobbing between her legs.
Minerva brought her thumb to Hermione's screaming clit and pressing down, swirling. Faster and faster... and faster until Hermione's inner walls began clenching, quivering around her, readying for la petite mort.
An experienced curl of the tongue was all it took to bring the final act to a close. Muscles spasmed rhythmically and Hermione gushed, feeding the older woman her hard earned nectar.
Minerva lapped it up greedily, cleaning her thoroughly before crawling up the bed and pulling the now trembling panting girl flush against her.
Once Hermione calmed a bit, she colored instantly with shame and embarrassment.
"That was umm."
Minerva combed sweaty curls away from flushed face and kissed her forehead to once again reassure her. "Shh you don't have to say a word, Ms. Granger."
"Oh, alright," A contented pause and chocolate eyes suddenly widened. "Do you want me to-"
Minerva resisted the urge to chuckle out loud, though her expression giggled madly. "Oh no, dear, I'm perfectly fine." They'd have plenty of opportunities to reciprocate later. For now it was all about the girl. Wouldn't want to push her too hard, too fast after all.
Hermione deflated, eyelids drooping and body boneless. The silence dragged onward and not surprisingly it didn't take long for sleep to arrive, claiming its temporary visitor literally right under Minerva's nose. No matter it may take her for now. The dream god knew he wasn't the one she belonged to and he'll return her come morn.
Keen feline eyes stared at the slumbering girl in the now pitch of the night drinking in every detail and twitch with unwavering fascination. They spotted a discolored mark. Minerva's lips curled. Hermione belonged to her now. And she had so much to teach and Hermione to learn.