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Settling	By : McGonagall Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female > McGonagall/Hooch Views: 2518 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series, and I wish that I made any money from this. I don't.

Chapter List
- 1-Settling
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Chapter 1

Minerva McGonagall enjoyed listening to her wife's increased intakes and exhales of air… becoming faster and more labored each second and turning into heavy panting. Of course there were Rolanda's soft moans of joy morphing into pitched cries of delight as well.

She enjoyed feeling her jerked motions against herself as Rolanda squirmed and wiggled harder, getting closer to the point of no return.

Rolanda and she had been married for nearly two years. They knew one another well in all ways possible, yet not. Intellectually, Minerva often was considered as superior to her wife. Rolanda Hooch's intelligence lay hidden beneath her role as a flying instructor and Quidditch referee at Hogwarts, though. It didn't change the fact that Rolanda too had once attended Hogwarts as a pupil there and had been taught the very same magic, even achieved her share of N.E.W.T.S. – some even the same as Minerva's: Charms, Herbology… Of course, even though Minerva had been Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team in earlier years and had helped them reach some of their victories, Rolanda obviously excelled in what she did, as did Minerva in what she did in Transfiguration – which seemed slightly more challenging intellect-wise.

They were… remotely happy, yet ever since the beginning one particular aspect about their relationship caused curbing every time, was sexual intercourse when Minerva came to be on the end of receiving. Minerva had never known anything else but lying back, feeling basically nothing unless she intervened while Rolanda lay between her spread legs. Only occasionally – every few odd minutes – Minerva would actually feel a jolt of delight ripple through her and thrust immediately upward when Rolanda accidentally came across a sensitive spot of her anatomy.

Penetration hurt her immensely, and so even though they did have a strap-on dildo, Minerva usually was the one to strap it onto herself. Rolanda had tried in the beginning, but it had usually left Minerva bleeding and sore for days after – every time. At an early age, Minerva had been diagnosed with severe endometriosis, you see.

In the end Rolanda and she found that it just wasn't worth it. Minerva often wondered whether the fact that Rolanda had been in some relationships with males earlier could elucidate why she had little to no difficulties with penetration, even deeper. She herself had never been with another but Rolanda. At Hogwarts, others had eyed her as the bookish Head Girl who lived in the library instead of in the clouds where lovers and intimacy could be discovered. Throughout the whole of her career as a pupil at Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall had carried the stigma of being ice cold…

Penetration with one finger was the maximum she could somehow take and thus rather early they both had taken refuge to oral sex when Minerva was receiving. Minerva had managed to find a handful of orgasms in the years that they'd been together, but truth told her orgasms never truly had been full blown. She could only recall one orgasm where stars had actually danced beneath closed eyelids. Rolanda and she hadn't been together for a little while, and within a heartbeat of Rolanda arriving at Hogwarts again, their home, after having been to a convention in France about Quidditch at magic schools, the elder woman had roughly pushed her down on the bed and… taken her.

Minerva had nothing or rather no one in her life experience to compare being with Rolanda to. Didn't Rolanda do it right or did she lie at the base of it all? Was it her fault for being too uptight as others sometimes called her? She couldn't say for sure, and thus she often wondered whether it would be different with another… a man, maybe. She still carried the guilt nonetheless. Maybe this was Merlin's way of saying that Minerva was supposed to be with a man, as her family had often enough said? Somehow Minerva found it fortunate that they had never known about Rolanda, about her being in a relationship – a marriage, even – with someone of the very same gender. She sometimes still recalled the conversations at the table where her father the reverend had shared his worries about two women being too close in their little community, so that he feared they might actually be closer than was truly suitable. Her mother and two brothers – six-year-older twins – had always immediately agreed that it wasn't suitable for two women to be together in that way or even make others believe that they were. With a slight ironical laugh she often recalled that never had there been mention of two men together in that way. Maybe they had felt that Minerva wasn't entirely heterosexual and had wanted to somehow change her, like so often in that time.

She didn't like or love anyone for their gender or age or money or other advantages. She fell for personalities and for what others radiated. It wasn't because she wasn't actually attracted to men. They just weren't attracted to Minerva for longer than a night, it seemed.

Sometimes Minerva feared that she was doing something incredibly senseless being with Rolanda, and she blamed her childhood for it. It had gotten better over time, that guilt. She felt far less guilty now – not daily anymore at all like in the beginning, and somehow the guilt had eased off most since her and Rolanda's wedding. It would be decades later that same sex marriage was finally allowed in Muggle communities.

That guilt was still there deep down and flared sometimes, though. The guilt for their sexual life and her fear that she was the main factor for it had overtaken the other guilt, and they couldn't actually talk to each other about it. Hurting Rolanda was the last that Minerva wanted, and the other way around. They tried other ways and other positions, but all with the same result. Most of the time Minerva would try take the lead and rub herself against her wife. If not, she just would be left without orgasming. That what made Minerva's guilt worse was possibly the fact that she could easily reach orgasm when alone and touching herself – and that within minutes. Another thing was that – and every time Minerva thought about it, she could feel her throat constrict – she just couldn't perform oral sex on Rolanda. She had certainly tried often enough, sometimes even with aid of edible oil to tamper Rolanda's intense smell or taste in case that was the reason unconsciously, right after showering or even in the shower itself. She just couldn't do it. She didn't know why. Every time she tried, Minerva's tummy lurched. She sometimes had it with just touching Rolanda down there with her hands and fingers as well. She felt often like a bad lover. Minerva loved her wife very, very much… and still those issues that strained their relationship. The fights came more often as well about sometimes even the most ridiculous matters, and it thoroughly exhausted Minerva, as she knew it exhausted Rolanda. Something really had to happen, and fast. So, one night…

"Please, Rolanda… Stop it," she begged. She couldn't take it any longer. She could feel her anger rise with both herself and her wife. The continuous wondering whether or not her wife's tongue was moving down there or not and the feeling nothing unless every few minutes a flare of delight was pushing her to madness and not in a good manner of speaking.

A quiet push against her wife's head was enough to tip Rolanda over to sit between Minerva's legs to eye her with sad eyes. This was not the very first time Minerva had pushed her wife off and often enough had it been because of the same reasons. The light that filtered in through the high windows that early evening at the end of June enabled them both to see the other's countenance. Minerva quietly slid her hands down to the bed, pushing upward while sliding her legs closed in the process.

Seriousness overtook the younger of them, and Rolanda knew something of great importance had to follow. "What's the matter, love?"

A rather deep intake of air confirmed Rolanda's suspicions, as did the words that left her mouth, "I cannot do this any longer, Ro. I'm sorry. I… I'm tired of it all. I want to be able to enjoy this and not wonder whether or not you're…"

"You'd be better off without me," Rolanda said, already turning and letting her feet slide down to the floor. She cast her gaze down. "I knew that I couldn't be lucky enough to keep having you… and be together with you for the rest of our earthly lives, that one day you would realize what you lose being with me."

Tears appeared in Minerva's eyes. "That's not what this is about at all. I love you, and I'm happy with you. I just… The guilt is slowly beginning to consume me. I wonder daily whether it would be different with another, and I'd say that I need to know whether it would or not and go from there… but I merely need some time – alone. I need to figure what it is that I really want. I'm not helping either of us like this."

"Intimacy is not all that matters in a relationship, but I do see your point." Minerva reached forward to sit on her knees beside Rolanda and laid her hand atop her wife's. "When are you leaving?" she wondered.

Minerva's eyes widened at the sudden question. "I… I haven't thought about that yet. I wanted to discuss it with you first."

Rolanda turned her gaze aside, eyes falling onto those intense teal green ones. "You don't need to ask my permission. We're both adults, leaving you old enough to make your decisions in life. If you feel this is for the best, then I trust you. I love you with all my heart, Minerva McGonagall…" she sighed, "and if you believe you could be happier with another, then I won't stop you. Your happiness goes above anything else to me."

She laid her hand atop theirs for one short moment before rising and leaving the shared room. Minerva remained gazing after her seconds after Rolanda had disappeared, until the sound of water running into the bathroom filled her ears from afar. She fell against the bed and began to cry. She vaguely heard the door a few minutes later, not having registered the discontinuance of running water. Rolanda did not return that night anymore. By morning, Minerva was gone, as were all of her things, a short note lying on the table in their shared living room, which said,

"I'm sorry for hurting you.

I just have to do this.

Love, Min."
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Settling