Day 2: Veritaserum

Day 2: Veritaserum

The stone walls of Minerva McGonagall's office felt cooler than usual, the autumn chill creeping in through the old castle as Hermione sat heavily in the chair across from Minerva's desk. The air, heavy with the familiar scent of parchment and ink, was quiet but charged—like the calm before a storm. Hermione rubbed her temples, exhaustion evident in every movement, though she made a valiant attempt to maintain her composure.

"You look exhausted," Minerva said, her voice crisp as she stood behind her desk, arms crossed in that familiar, stern posture. Her sharp gaze never wavered, though there was a hint of concern beneath her usual severity. She liked to remain in Headmistress and employee mode when they had their discussions about work. It was important to be able to give distinction between their work life and private life. 

"I am," Hermione admitted with a sigh, her hand falling into her lap as she leaned back in her chair. "It's been one of those days. A third-year thought it'd be amusing to enchant the quills to fly around the classroom during my lecture. I've just spent the better part of an hour chasing them down."

A faint smirk tugged at the corners of Minerva's lips, though her expression remained primarily serious. "You should know by now that the students are always trying to test their limits, Hermione. It's best not to let them rattle you."

"I know," Hermione replied with a tired nod. "I've dealt with worse, but today… today just feels particularly exhausting."

Minerva gave a small, sympathetic nod, stepping out from behind her desk to stand closer to Hermione, her sharp eyes observing her with care. "You've been pushing yourself hard this term. Perhaps you need to take some time to—"

"I just wish you'd take me on this desk." The words tumbled out of Hermione's mouth before she could stop them, her voice quiet but clear. Her own eyes widened in horror as she realized what she had just said, her hand flying up to cover her mouth, but it was too late. The confession hung in the air between them, sharp and undeniable.

Minerva blinked, her stern mask slipping for the briefest moment as shock flickered across her face. Her lips parted as if to say something, but the words never came. Her usually sharp composure faltered as the weight of Hermione's unexpected admission settled between them.

Hermione's face flushed a deep crimson, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, spreading down her neck. Her mouth moved, struggling for an explanation, but nothing came out that could make sense of what she had just revealed.

"I—Minerva—I didn't mean—"

But even as she tried to stammer out an apology, the truth poured from her lips, unbidden and uncontrollable. "I mean… I did mean it. I've thought about it so much, how you look when you're standing there, so in control, so… commanding. And I just—" Hermione clamped her mouth shut again, horrified, her eyes wide with embarrassment as she realized there was no stopping it.

Minerva's surprise deepened, her gaze narrowing slightly as she processed Hermione's words. She remained perfectly still, her hands clasped behind her back, her expression caught between shock and… something else. She wasn't angry—that much was clear—but the intensity of her stare made Hermione's skin tingle, as though Minerva could see straight through her, into the very heart of her unspoken desires.

"Good heavens, Hermione," Minerva said at last, her voice low, laced with something that might have been amusement. "I never expected to hear something like that from you. Particularly not between classes."

Hermione swallowed hard, her throat dry, her heart pounding against her ribs as the embarrassment washed over her. She felt as though she might burst from the tension between them. "I don't know why I said that. I mean, I do… but—oh Merlin." Her hands fumbled uselessly in her lap, her mind racing for any explanation that wouldn't make her sound even more foolish.

Minerva's eyes softened, though her tone remained carefully measured. "Hermione… you can't lie while under the influence of Veritaserum."

Hermione blinked, her confusion evident as she stared back at Minerva. "Veritaserum?" she repeated, her brow furrowing in disbelief. "I wasn't—"

Minerva raised an eyebrow, taking another step closer, her sharp gaze flicking over Hermione with the kind of scrutiny she usually reserved for unruly students. "Think carefully, my dear," she said, her voice quieter now, almost gentle. "Has anything unusual happened to you today?"

Hermione frowned, her mind struggling to piece together the events of the day. She had been tired—distracted by the chaos of her classroom, yes—but nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. Except…

Her eyes widened as realization dawned. "The tea," she muttered, more to herself than to Minerva. "One of the students offered me tea during a lesson… I didn't think much of it, but—oh, Merlin, I've been pranked."

Minerva's lips curled into a smirk, though there was still a flicker of concern in her eyes as she regarded Hermione. "It seems one of your students has taken a rather bold approach to testing your limits."

Hermione groaned, her hands coming up to cover her face in a futile attempt to hide her mortification. "I can't believe this is happening," she mumbled into her hands, her voice muffled. "Minerva, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Hermione," Minerva interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. "You cannot apologize for something you have no control over. You've been dosed with Veritaserum, and everything you've said… well, it's simply the truth, isn't it?"

Hermione's breath caught, her hands lowering slowly as she met Minerva's gaze. "I… yes," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn't want you to know like this. It's embarrassing, but… it's true."

Minerva was quiet for a moment, her sharp eyes searching Hermione's face, reading her every emotion with that same intensity she had always possessed. There was something different in her expression now—something darker, more thoughtful. Hermione could see the gears turning in Minerva's mind, the faint flicker of amusement blending with something else entirely.

"Tell me, Hermione," Minerva said, her voice low and controlled as she took another step closer, close enough now that Hermione could feel the warmth of her presence, "is there anything else you'd like to confess?"

Hermione's breath hitched, the words spilling from her lips before she could stop them. "Yes. I think about it all the time. How you stand there, so in control, so commanding. And I just want you to push everything off your desk, to take me right here, to—"

Minerva's hand came up to gently cup Hermione's chin, tilting her face up so their eyes met, her touch both soft and firm. "Enough," she said, though her voice was softer now, her tone no longer harsh. Her eyes, however, were still filled with that familiar authority, the command that had always made Hermione's pulse quicken.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she stared up at Minerva, her mind spinning with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. She could feel the weight of Minerva's gaze on her, the intensity of her presence making it difficult to think, to breathe. There was no escape now—the truth was out, raw and unfiltered.

Minerva's smirk returned, her fingers still lightly holding Hermione's chin as she spoke, her voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. "It seems, my dear," Minerva whispered, her lips curving into a wicked smile, "we'll need to address these… desires of yours."

Hermione's breath hitched, her body reacting instinctively to the commanding edge in Minerva's voice. "Minerva… I—"

"Hush," Minerva said softly, her thumb brushing over Hermione's bottom lip, her touch sending sparks of heat through her. "I think we've both waited long enough."

Minerva's touch was gentle but firm, commanding in a way that sent another shiver through Hermione's already trembling body. The power of Minerva's presence—her voice, her touch, the sheer authority she wielded—was intoxicating, and Hermione felt herself slipping deeper into the moment, surrendering to the tension that had been simmering between them for so long.

"Hermione," Minerva murmured, her voice soft but laden with intent, "I believe we need to teach a lesson in honesty, don't you?"

Hermione's breath hitched again, her pulse racing as Minerva's words washed over her. She could feel the heat pooling low in her abdomen, her body responding to every touch, every word, every glance. She had never felt more vulnerable—and yet, she had never felt more alive.

Minerva's fingers, still cupping Hermione's chin, tilted her head slightly to the side, her gaze lingering on Hermione's flushed skin. "Do you realize what you've done?" she asked, her voice low, dangerously controlled. "You've confessed everything… without even meaning to. And now… now, I have all the power."

Hermione's heart pounded in her chest, her body both tense and aching for Minerva to continue, to take control in the way she so desperately craved. The Veritaserum had loosened her inhibitions, but the truth was undeniable—this desire had been there for far longer, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for a moment like this.

"Minerva," Hermione breathed, her voice trembling with need. "I… I want—"

"I know what you want," Minerva interrupted, her tone softer now, though still filled with that unmistakable authority. "And I believe it's time I give it to you."

In one fluid movement, Minerva pulled Hermione to her feet, her other hand still gripping her chin, guiding her with a quiet command. Hermione followed without resistance, her body reacting instinctively, drawn into the magnetic pull of Minerva's presence. She barely registered the way her legs moved, her breath coming in shallow gasps as Minerva backed her toward the desk that had once seemed so untouchable—so forbidden.

Minerva pressed Hermione against the edge, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and hunger. With a sharp flick of her wand, she cleared the surface, the sound of books, quills, and parchment scattering across the floor echoing in the quiet office. Hermione's pulse quickened at the display of magic, her heart racing as Minerva's eyes met hers again, dark and intent.

"Now," Minerva said softly, stepping closer, her hand sliding from Hermione's chin to her waist, pulling her flush against her body. "Let me show you just how much control I have."

Hermione barely had time to register the words before Minerva's lips were on hers, fierce and demanding. The kiss was overwhelming, filled with a hunger that had been building for far too long. Hermione moaned softly into the kiss, her hands reaching up to grasp the fabric of Minerva's robes, desperate for something to hold onto as the world seemed to spin around her.

Minerva's hands moved with practiced ease, her fingers expertly unfastening the buttons of Hermione's robes, pushing the fabric off her shoulders with a slow, deliberate motion. Hermione shivered as the cool air of the room met her skin, but the heat of Minerva's body pressed against her kept her grounded, kept her focused on the moment.

"You've thought about this, haven't you?" Minerva whispered against her lips, her hands sliding over Hermione's now bare skin, her touch sending waves of pleasure through her. "How many times have you imagined me like this… taking you… right here?"

Hermione's breath came in short gasps, her mind clouded with the intoxicating sensation of Minerva's touch, her words. "Too many," Hermione admitted, her voice trembling. "I've thought about it every time I see you behind this desk. Every time I hear your voice."

Minerva's lips curled into a satisfied smirk as her hands moved lower, teasing the waistband of Hermione's underwear. "Then let's make those thoughts a reality, shall we?"

Without waiting for a response, Minerva hooked her fingers into Hermione's underwear and tugged them down, the fabric sliding easily over her legs and pooling at her feet. Hermione's breath hitched, her body trembling with anticipation as she stood there, exposed and vulnerable under Minerva's intense gaze. Her heart pounded, the raw power in Minerva's eyes making her feel even more exposed than her nakedness did.

Minerva didn't move for a moment, her eyes lingering on Hermione with an unmistakable hunger. There was a weight in the air, charged and electric, as if the space between them had grown smaller and denser. The authority that Minerva always carried, both as Headmistress and as her wife, felt amplified now—undeniable, inescapable.

Hermione's chest rose and fell rapidly, her body taut with desire. Minerva took a slow, deliberate step closer, her long fingers tracing the curve of Hermione's thigh, sending a shiver through her. Hermione couldn't help but moan softly as Minerva's hand slid higher, her fingers brushing dangerously close to where she ached for her the most.

"I never realized," Minerva murmured, her voice low, dark, "just how much control I had over you, Hermione. But it's clearer now than ever."

Before Hermione could respond, Minerva's lips crashed against hers—fierce and commanding. The kiss was possessive, filled with an intensity that made Hermione's knees weak. She leaned into it, letting Minerva claim her fully, her mind overwhelmed by the taste and scent of the woman she had adored for years. But this... this was different. Minerva was usually restrained, careful. Tonight, though, she was something else entirely.

Without breaking the kiss, Minerva's fingers slid up between Hermione's legs, finding her soaked and trembling with need. Hermione gasped against Minerva's lips, her body arching as two of Minerva's fingers pressed inside her, deep and deliberate.

The stretch was immediate, the fullness causing Hermione to moan louder, her hands instinctively gripping Minerva's robes to steady herself. But Minerva didn't relent. As her fingers worked their way deeper inside Hermione, her thumb found her clit, pressing into the sensitive nub with just enough pressure to make Hermione's entire body tremble.

Minerva broke the kiss, her breath hot against Hermione's ear. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you?" she whispered, her voice a husky murmur, full of dominance. "How many nights have you laid awake, wanting me to take you like this?"

Hermione could barely think, let alone respond. The sensation of Minerva's long fingers thrusting inside her, paired with the firm pressure of her thumb on her clit, was overwhelming. Her hips bucked involuntarily, her body seeking more, but Minerva held her in place, controlling the pace.

"Answer me," Minerva demanded, her voice sharper now, though still dangerously quiet. "How many times?"

"S-so many," Hermione gasped, her words coming out in ragged breaths as her legs threatened to give out beneath her. "Too many."

Minerva smirked against her skin, her fingers curling inside Hermione, hitting a spot that made her cry out. "Good girl. I can feel how badly you want it."

Hermione's breath caught, her eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure built, an unstoppable force that left her trembling under Minerva's touch. She had imagined moments like this—fantasized about it, even—but nothing had prepared her for the reality of Minerva's dominance. The way she controlled her every movement, the way her words alone could push Hermione closer to the edge of bliss.

"You're going to come for me, Hermione," Minerva whispered, her tone dark and commanding as her thumb circled Hermione's clit, faster now, her fingers thrusting harder, deeper. "But not until I say."

Hermione's body trembled violently, her muscles tightening as the pleasure coiled inside her, ready to snap. "Minerva, please," she whimpered, her voice broken with desperation. "I—I can't hold on—"

"You can," Minerva interrupted, her voice firm. "And you will."

Hermione's entire body shook with the effort of holding back, her mind clouded with the intoxicating mixture of pleasure and submission. She couldn't think straight, couldn't focus on anything except the feel of Minerva's fingers inside her, the way her thumb teased her clit with perfect, relentless pressure.

"Do you know why I'm doing this, Hermione?" Minerva asked, her voice a low, sultry growl as her lips grazed the shell of Hermione's ear. "Because you belong to me. You've always belonged to me."

Hermione's breath hitched, her heart racing as Minerva's words washed over her. The ownership, the claim—it made something in Hermione snap, made her mind go blank with nothing but the overwhelming need to submit, to let go.

"I do," Hermione gasped, her voice trembling. "I'm yours, Minerva. Please, let me—"

"Now," Minerva commanded, her thumb pressing harder against Hermione's clit as her fingers thrust deep inside her, curling with deliberate precision. "Come for me."

That was all it took. Hermione's body convulsed as the orgasm tore through her, her muscles clenching around Minerva's fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. She cried out, her grip tightening on Minerva's robes as her legs nearly gave out, the intensity of the release leaving her breathless, shaking, completely undone.

Minerva didn't stop. She kept her fingers inside Hermione, working her through every last pulse of pleasure, her thumb continuing its relentless rhythm on her clit until Hermione's body was trembling from overstimulation.

When the final wave subsided, Hermione collapsed against Minerva, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Minerva withdrew her fingers slowly, gently, her touch now tender as she caressed Hermione's flushed skin.

"Good girl," Minerva whispered, her voice softer now, filled with quiet satisfaction as she pressed a kiss to Hermione's forehead. "I knew you could take it."

Hermione let out a shaky breath, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of the intense orgasm. She leaned heavily against Minerva, her mind spinning as she tried to process what had just happened, how completely Minerva had taken control—and how much she had craved it.

"You… surprised me," Hermione murmured, her voice weak but filled with affection as she looked up at Minerva with a dazed smile.

Minerva chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Hermione's face. "You've been keeping too many secrets from me, Hermione. I think it's time you tell me more about your fantasies."