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When Nothing Leads To Something & Everything	By : McGonagall Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 8812 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series by any means, and I wish that I made any money of this. I don't.

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Minerva McGonagall sighed, the hand upon her back momentarily tightening as another spasm announced itself. She leaned heavily upon her desk with the other, even that little move causing her to gasp and wince. The Headmistress' teal green eyes tightly closed, and she bit down on her bottom lip to stifle what Hermione assumed would have been a groan induced by pain. She was at the elder woman's side in no time, one hand naturally coming down to her painful lower back. McGonagall gasped once again as the younger witch's hand came to rest upon the tender area; she wasn't really used to any pupils ever touching her in any way – a handshake when seventh years left school after their education at Hogwarts was about the maximum. She, however, couldn't get herself to push the hand away – especially not when it slowly began massaging. She didn't say a word as Hermione's other hand carefully pushed aside hers and guided her to turn around against the desk so that she could lean upon it better. McGonagall couldn't do anything but bend over just a little as Hermione's left hand joined its mate at the elder woman's lower back; her thumbs made loving circles on either side of her spine, alternating between soft and hard, bigger and smaller circles. To have the rather painful area massaged made Minerva McGonagall vulnerable. It felt so good, to feel the carefulness with which Hermione sincerely tried to make the elder woman feel better.

Minutes ticked by in which Hermione's thumbs began moving lower, in the direction of where the most painful area was. Upon reaching that, Minerva, however, gasped and jerked away, trembling slightly. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to hurt you…" Hermione whispered, tearing up. "I should have been more careful…"

Minerva's head shook. "No. It isn't your responsibility."

"I hate to see you in pain," Hermione admitted, barely audible.

"Why?" It escaped at once. It surprised even Minerva herself. She was known for her very good self-composure. Anything escaping her mouth without her having thought about it very carefully was something that did happen rarely. Albus Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes twinkled madly in his frame. That was quite visible even through the canvas.

"I don't really like y– anyone hurting," Hermione corrected and swallowed. Sweat easily formed on her forehead, and her cheeks became flushed as the fear of having slipped too much overcame her. She had nearly said it, and Minerva McGonagall wasn't really supposed to know. She wasn't really supposed to know just how Hermione's younger heart ached watching the Headmistress wander about the castle purposelessly and defeated. Of course, the elder Transfiguration Professor had been widely known ever since the beginning of her teaching career as a female who was rather strict and didn't tolerate nonsense. Maybe the reason for that could be found in the subject she taught, too: Transfiguration was something very peculiar and dangerous. Transfigurations could easily go amiss and have serious consequences. The thought of someone unsuccessfully turning into an Animagus and being stuck between animal and human being for the rest of a lifetime came to mind. A case like that had occurred when Minerva was being trained to become an Animagus herself. Poor male had had to live with wings attached to his shoulders and feathers in the most impossible places. His nails and nose had resembled the features of an eagle quite a bit for the rest of his life – which hadn't lasted long. He had lived slightly longer than an eagle would have, but less long than a human.

Minerva carefully turned to face the younger witch, one hand naturally going to her still aching lower back. Both women's eyes met, hazel connecting with teal green. "Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey and ask her for something. It won't take away the cause, but it'll at least settle the pain for a while."

"I'll be fine. Madam Pomfrey's pain relief potions barely have any effect on me anymore," she admitted.

Hermione quietly nodded, while allowing some silence between them. "I wish that you would allow me to…" She quietly shook her head, reminding herself of whom she was actually talking to. One didn't ask the Headmistress to undress and allow one of her pupils to massage away the pain in her lower back…

"To what, Miss Granger?" Minerva's teal green eyes bore into Hermione's hazel ones. Hermione's head shook once more, tears filling her eyes. Minerva's eyes grew rather worried. "Miss Granger?" She repeated, carefully putting her hand upon the younger witch's shoulder, cautiously squeezing. "Are you all right?" She asked.

Hermione's head lowered. "I just…" she began. "I just hate to see you in pain, when maybe I could do something about it."

Minerva's eyebrow quirked as she slowly took in that information and let her mind mull with it for a little while, finally getting the reason for Hermione's unusual concern if she hadn't already. She sighed, retrieving her hand again. "I'll be fine, Miss Granger. I'm used to this by now. You learn that when getting older, but… if it makes you feel better, I'll–" "It would be better if I wasn't bothered with all those layers," Hermione said, pointing at Minerva's attires.

…ask Madam Pomfrey for something after dinner. Minerva's eyes grew wide at Hermione's misinterpretation. She couldn't really have thought that Minerva McGonagall was going to say something else, could she? She couldn't really have thought that Minerva was going to suggest she continue massaging her. On the other hand, she couldn't deny that the massage had felt very nice and certainly would make the pain more bearable. However, had the younger witch just hinted she take off her attires? Minerva's head shook in denial both to herself and Hermione, but Hermione had already neared her again and had reached over to rub little circles upon Minerva's painful lower back. Minerva's eyes shut in a mixture of relief and pain and… and delight. She couldn't do this, yet she couldn't fight against the hand caressing her…

"Would you like to go into your bedroom?" Hermione asked. Minerva's eyes flew open again, head turning pointedly toward Hermione, making something in her neck snap and causing Minerva's hand to flow up and rub the area where she'd just felt it snap as some instinctive immediate reaction. "It is quite safe to imagine you would feel more comfortable there," she added, seeing Minerva's bewildered look.

"Uhm Hermione, I don't believe that…"

"Minerva," Hermione whispered, now addressing the woman by first name as if she wasn't Headmistress of Hogwarts or former Transfiguration Professor. Minerva's eyes grew wide at hearing it. The majority of pupils still called her 'Professor McGonagall' even after leaving Hogwarts, and now there was this girl who still was a pupil there, calling the Headmistress by her given name, and admitting even though tenuously to wanting to touch her naked body… This very beautiful and attractive girl who… Stop it!

Minerva winced, the motion of turning back her head more painful than she would have anticipated, and suddenly Hermione's offer to rub all her pain away was even harder to deny than earlier… The urge to give in became stronger… and won over rational sense. Hermione's hand had felt so unbelievably nice upon her lower back… Giving in was what she did. Minerva pointedly turned her gaze toward two dark oaken doors on her left. "Second one," she whispered.

She knew rather than saw the younger witch nodding, feeling Hermione's warm hand upon hers and feeling herself slowly being dragged toward the door which she had just indicated.

"Lie down," Hermione suggested, once the door closed after their passing, and her eyes remained upon her pupil as she obeyed, slowly but surely sitting down on the edge of the bed and lying down on her side with her back facing Hermione before rolling over on her tummy. Pain could make one do odd things which no one would ever be able to imagine without seeing them. One such thing was certainly Minerva McGonagall obeying anyone else but Albus without arguing or even a look of disapproval and then in particular a pupil of hers. Albus wasn't there anymore, though. "Good," Hermione whispered, sitting herself down on the edge of the bed and reaching for the fastenings of Minerva's robes.

Why did I agree to this again? Minerva wondered, feeling the buttons pop open and the material of her robes loosen only more. The breeze of wind coming through the window and making its way through the bedroom hit the bare skin of Minerva's back, and she couldn't contain the chill of cold running down her spine, her fingers tightening around the edges of the pillow in which she had buried her head since Hermione had begun unbuttoning her attires. Why? Why? Hermione was an ex pupil of hers, still being educated at Hogwarts, where she was the Headmistress! Didn't that say enough already? She intuitively let go of the pillow and moved her hands to lie flat beside her head, so that she could push herself upright, and… but then Hermione's warm hand came down on her lower back, and all was lost.

It took nearly all of Hermione's willpower not to lean down and run her lips along the length of the elder witch's spine, feeling and tasting the milky white, silken skin. "Do you have massage oil?" Hermione asked.

Minerva leaned up on one hand, shrugging her wand from her sleeve and waving it once, then lying it aside on the bedside table. Hermione only barely caught the little blue bottle. "Could you uhm…?" Minerva quietly turned her head, eyebrow quirked. "I don't wanna stain your robes," she said.

"Oh," was all Minerva could say, realizing what her pupil meant. She nodded, leaning up and uneasily shrugging the material a bit further down her shoulders and arms. She again curled her fingers around the edges of the pillow and buried her head in it, her breathing faster than usual in anticipation of Hermione's touch.

Hermione carefully put the bottle of massage oil onto the bedside table, rubbing the amount of liquid together between her hands to warm it a bit and then…

Minerva gasped as Hermione's hands came into contact with her bare skin, burying her head into the pillow more to hide any more gasps that might follow, or moans. Minerva had learned through the years how sensitive that her lower back was and how much of an erogenous zone it could be especially while foreplay lasted. These weren't really the right thoughts to have right then.

Hermione carefully began massaging the elder witch's shoulders, kneading them. This position really wasn't very comfortable for her, but she couldn't… could she? However, the longer she remained, the more that position began to hurt. Eventually, to be able to continue massaging Minerva instead of soon needing to desist because of the pain it caused upon her to have her body turned like that, Hermione sat up on her knees and threw one leg over Minerva's body to straddle her. That was much better. Of course she didn't lower herself. Her weight upon the elder witch would only harm Minerva more, and she wanted to really make her feel somewhat better, not worse.

Minerva's eyes fluttered shut feeling the mattress sink on both sides of her and Hermione's warm hands trail lower. If only she wasn't lying on her back, this position would have been very inappropriate… if it wasn't already.
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When Nothing Leads To Something & Everything