Day 7 - Breeding Kink/DubCon or Noncon Getting Pregnant

*Trigger Warning: noncon pregnancy - Minerva tries to get Hermione pregnant without Hermione knowing*

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the dark wood of Minerva McGonagall's chambers. The room was quiet, save for the occasional pop of the embers and the soft rustling of clothes being discarded. Hermione stood in front of the fire, her robes slipping off her shoulders, the tension from her long day as Minister of Magic still clinging to her like a heavy weight.

It had been weeks since their last meeting, weeks of quiet longing and stolen glances when they crossed paths in the Ministry or at Hogwarts. But now, in the privacy of Minerva's chambers, that tension began to unravel. Hermione's breath came in soft, uneven bursts as she watched Minerva move toward her, the years of their secret affair weighing heavily in the air between them.

Minerva's eyes, sharp and filled with something deeper than desire, traced over Hermione's figure with barely restrained hunger. There was something possessive in the way she looked at her, something that had only grown stronger over the years. The secret affair had started innocently enough—a moment of weakness after a Ministry function, a shared kiss in the shadows of the corridor. But it had spiraled into something neither of them could stop, something that had woven itself into the fabric of their lives.

Hermione, still married to Ron, had never left him for the sake of their children. But the marriage had long since faded into formality. They hadn't shared a bed in years. Ron, ever the doting father, had grown distant in other ways, and Hermione found solace, comfort, and passion in Minerva. They met every couple of weeks, seeking each other out when the weight of the world became too much to bear, but it was Minerva who carried the secret hope of something more.

"You've been busy," Minerva murmured, her voice low and rough with desire as she stepped closer, her hands reaching up to gently brush the fabric from Hermione's shoulders, letting it pool at her feet.

Hermione let out a soft sigh, her body trembling as Minerva's touch ignited something deep inside her. "Too busy," she whispered, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "I've been thinking about this… about you."

Minerva's lips curled into a small smile, her fingers brushing lightly over Hermione's skin, sending shivers down her spine. "You always think too much," she teased gently, though there was an edge to her voice—something possessive, something hungry. "It's time to let go."

Hermione leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed as Minerva's hands roamed her body with practiced ease, sliding down her sides, her hips, before pausing at her waist. Minerva's fingers gripped her gently but firmly, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush against each other.

"I missed this," Hermione breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Minerva hummed softly in response, her lips brushing against Hermione's neck as her hands moved lower, her fingers teasing at the waistband of Hermione's knickers. "I missed you," she whispered, her breath hot against Hermione's skin. But her thoughts were racing, and the intensity in her gaze hadn't waned. Tonight was different.

There had been something growing between them, something Minerva had kept hidden in the shadows of their affair. The affair wasn't just an indulgence of lust for Minerva—it was something more. Over the years, her desire for Hermione had transformed into an all-consuming need. And tonight, Minerva intended to take it a step further.

Hermione, unaware of the true depth of Minerva's desire, sighed softly, her body relaxing under Minerva's touch. She had no idea what Minerva was planning—no idea that tonight wasn't just about the passion they shared but about Minerva's quiet, carefully laid plans. Plans that involved a transfiguration spell Hermione hadn't even considered possible.

Minerva pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with intent as she reached for her wand, her fingers curling around the familiar wood. Hermione blinked, her brows knitting together in mild confusion as Minerva stepped back, her gaze never leaving Hermione's.

"Minerva?" Hermione asked, her voice soft, uncertain.

Minerva smiled, her expression softening just a fraction. "I want to try something different tonight," she murmured, her voice low and filled with an edge of excitement. "Trust me?"

Hermione hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Of course," she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest.

Minerva's smile deepened, and with a quick, silent flick of her wand, she cast the spell. Hermione watched as the air around Minerva shimmered for a brief moment, the magic settling over her like a second skin. Hermione could feel the pulse of magic in the air, could feel the way it wrapped around Minerva's body, transforming her in a way that was both subtle and undeniable.

She hadn't noticed the shift at first, not until Minerva stepped closer, her body pressing against Hermione's in a way that felt different—more solid, more commanding. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as Minerva's hand slid between her legs, her fingers brushing against her already slick folds. But there was something else now, something more.

Hermione gasped softly, her eyes widening as she felt the hard, unmistakable shape of something pressing against her thigh—something that hadn't been there before.

Minerva's lips curled into a knowing smile, her voice a low murmur as she whispered, "I transfigured my clit into something a little more… substantial."

Hermione's heart raced, her body trembling with both anticipation and curiosity as Minerva's hand guided her closer, the tip of the transfigured cock teasing her entrance. It was so real—so solid—that Hermione couldn't help the soft moan that escaped her lips as Minerva pressed against her, the heat between them building with every passing second.

"You want this, don't you?" Minerva whispered, her voice low and filled with quiet dominance. "You've wanted this for years."

Hermione's breath came in short, shallow bursts as she nodded, her body arching into Minerva's touch. "Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I want you."

Minerva's grip tightened on Hermione's hips, her transfigured cock pressing harder against her entrance, teasing her with the promise of more. But Hermione still didn't know the full truth—didn't know that Minerva's magic wasn't just for pleasure. It was for something more. Something Minerva had wanted for years.

And tonight, Minerva was determined to take what she wanted.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, Minerva pushed inside Hermione, the sensation of being filled sending a shudder of pleasure through Hermione's body. She gasped softly, her hands gripping Minerva's shoulders as the older witch moved with deliberate precision, her transfigured cock sliding deeper, filling Hermione completely.

Minerva groaned softly, her body trembling with the intensity of the moment as she began to move, each thrust slow and deliberate, driving deeper into Hermione with every movement. Hermione's breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as she clung to Minerva, her body overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled so completely, so perfectly.

But Minerva's thoughts were elsewhere—focused not just on the pleasure of the moment but on the spell she had cast, the magic that pulsed between them. She knew what she was doing. She knew it was possible for this to be more than just a fleeting moment of pleasure. She had studied the ancient magic, the old transfiguration spells that allowed for the impossible.

And tonight, she wanted more than just Hermione's body.

She wanted Hermione pregnant.

But in that moment, all Minerva could focus on was the way Hermione's body responded to her every movement, the way she gasped and clung to her as if nothing else mattered but this—being together, in the heat of their passion. The slow, deliberate thrust of her transfigured cock as it slid deeper inside Hermione made her pulse quicken, each inch pushing Hermione further into a state of desperate need.

Hermione's head fell back, a breathless moan escaping her lips as Minerva's hips pressed flush against her, filling her completely. Her fingers dug into Minerva's shoulders, her body trembling with the overwhelming sensation of being taken, filled so perfectly by the woman she had desired for years.

"Minerva," Hermione gasped, her voice a ragged plea as her hips moved instinctively, pushing back against Minerva's slow, deliberate thrusts. "Please… more. Don't stop."

Minerva's lips curled into a satisfied smirk, her grip tightening on Hermione's hips as she shifted slightly, her next thrust harder, deeper, making Hermione cry out softly. "You sound so desperate, Hermione," Minerva murmured, her voice low and filled with dark amusement. "You're always so composed… but when I'm inside you, you fall apart."

Hermione whimpered in response, her nails scraping down Minerva's back as the older witch set a punishing rhythm, her hips snapping forward with every thrust. The sensation of Minerva's transfigured cock stretching her, filling her, was almost too much to bear. Hermione's legs trembled, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she pressed her body closer to Minerva's, her need growing with every movement.

"I need it," Hermione whispered, her voice trembling with desire as her hands gripped Minerva's arms. "I need you."

Minerva's smirk deepened, her eyes dark with hunger as she leaned in, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear. "You're always so needy for me," she whispered, her breath hot against Hermione's skin. "Always begging for me to fuck you like this."

Hermione's moan was soft, almost a whimper, as she arched her back, her body trembling with the intensity of it all. "Please," she whispered again, her voice filled with desperation. "Minerva, I—"

But Minerva cut her off, her voice dark and commanding. "You're mine, Hermione," she murmured, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of Hermione's neck as she thrust harder, making Hermione cry out in pleasure. "You belong to me when we're like this."

Hermione's breath hitched, her body shuddering with each of Minerva's words, her mind clouded with pleasure. She had never felt so completely dominated, so utterly consumed by anyone else. Minerva's control over her, the way she spoke, the way she moved—it all left Hermione trembling with a desire she couldn't contain.

"You're so tight," Minerva growled softly, her hand sliding down Hermione's body, her fingers finding the slick heat between her legs. "So wet for me."

Hermione whimpered, her hips bucking against Minerva's hand as her fingers slid over her clit, teasing her with slow, deliberate strokes. The combination of being filled by Minerva's transfigured cock and the way her fingers moved against her was almost too much to handle. Hermione's body trembled, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she teetered on the edge of release.

"Tell me how much you want it," Minerva demanded, her voice low and commanding as her fingers pressed harder against Hermione's clit. "Tell me what you need."

"I need you," Hermione gasped, her voice breathless as her body moved instinctively, pushing back against Minerva's relentless thrusts. "I need you inside me. Don't stop, please, Minerva—don't stop."

Minerva's smirk widened, her hand moving faster now, her fingers working Hermione's clit with precision as her thrusts grew harder, more insistent. "That's it," she whispered, her voice dark and filled with satisfaction. "You'll take everything I give you."

Hermione's body shook with every thrust, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as she clung to Minerva, her nails digging into her skin. The sensation of being filled so completely, of being fucked so thoroughly, was driving her to the brink. She could feel the pleasure building inside her, coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"I'm close," Hermione whimpered, her voice trembling as her body trembled with the intensity of it all. "Minerva, I'm going to—"

Minerva's lips brushed against Hermione's ear, her voice a low, seductive whisper. "Come for me, Hermione," she commanded, her fingers moving faster, her thrusts harder. "Let me hear you."

Hermione's body trembled violently, her breath catching in her throat as the orgasm overtook her completely. She could feel Minerva's transfigured cock buried deep inside her, stretching her in ways that made her mind spin, every thrust pushing her closer to the edge. As her muscles clenched around Minerva, she let out a soft, breathless moan, her body arching into the older witch as pleasure ripped through her.

With a final, deep thrust, Minerva groaned softly, her fingers digging into Hermione's hips as she came. The sensation was intense—unexpected—and Hermione's eyes flew open, her body still trembling as she felt the warm rush of Minerva's release spilling inside her. It was so real, so vivid, that Hermione gasped in surprise, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as Minerva's body shuddered against hers.

Minerva stayed there for a moment, her breath uneven as she slowly came down from the high, her hips still pressed tightly against Hermione's. She could feel the way Hermione's body clung to her, the way she was still shaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm, and it sent a deep sense of satisfaction through her.

But it wasn't just satisfaction. There was something more—a quiet, secret hope that maybe this time, something would come of it. That maybe tonight would be the night she got what she had wanted for so long.

Finally, after a long moment of silence, Hermione shifted slightly, her breath still shaky as she turned her head to look at Minerva, her brow furrowed in confusion. "I didn't think you'd be able to do that," she murmured softly, her voice filled with surprise as she felt Minerva's release leaking out of her.

Minerva smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement as she slowly pulled out of Hermione, watching as the evidence of their passion began to trickle down Hermione's thighs. "I'm excellent at transfiguration," she said, her voice low and filled with quiet pride.

Hermione blinked, her body still trembling slightly as she processed what had just happened. She had known Minerva was skilled in magic—exceptionally skilled—but this? This was something she hadn't expected. "That's… impressive," she murmured, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. But as the sticky warmth of Minerva's release continued to seep from her, Hermione let out a soft, exasperated sigh. "Though I wouldn't mind if you used that wand of yours to clean me off."

Minerva raised an eyebrow, her expression turning playful as she leaned down, her lips brushing lightly against Hermione's shoulder. "Oh, but I like you all sticky," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with a deeper, hidden desire.

Hermione's brow furrowed slightly, a hint of confusion in her eyes as she glanced at Minerva. "You do?"

Minerva's smile was soft, affectionate, but there was something else behind it—something she kept hidden. "I like to see the evidence of what we've done," she said quietly, her fingers trailing gently down Hermione's thigh, spreading the slick wetness even further. "It suits you."

Hermione shivered under Minerva's touch, her breath hitching slightly as she felt the older witch's fingers brush against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "You're insatiable," Hermione muttered, though there was no real bite to her words. She was still floating in the afterglow, her body relaxed, her mind quiet.

Minerva chuckled softly, her hand slipping away as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to Hermione's lips. "Perhaps," she murmured, her voice filled with quiet satisfaction. "But I can't help it when it comes to you."

Hermione smiled against Minerva's lips, her body still humming with the aftershocks of their passion. "I suppose I'll allow it… for now."

Minerva's smile widened, her eyes glinting with quiet triumph as she pulled back slightly, her fingers still tracing light, teasing patterns on Hermione's skin. But even as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Minerva's mind was elsewhere—focused on the quiet, secret hope that maybe this time, she had succeeded.

Maybe this time, Hermione would leave with more than just her desire satiated.

Later

It had been weeks since that night, weeks of confusion and a growing sense of dread building in Hermione's chest. She had tried to ignore the signs at first—the fatigue, the nausea, the subtle changes in her body. But there was no denying it anymore. She was pregnant. And it wasn't Ron's.

Hermione stormed into Minerva's office, her robes billowing behind her as she slammed the door shut with a wave of her wand. Minerva looked up from her desk, her expression calm but guarded as Hermione marched toward her.

"You knew," Hermione snapped, her voice shaking with barely controlled anger. "You knew this could happen."

Minerva's eyes flickered, her hands pausing over the parchment she had been reading. She said nothing for a moment, her gaze steady as she watched Hermione. "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Hermione shot back, her hands trembling as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm pregnant, Minerva."

Minerva's breath hitched, but her expression remained composed, almost too calm. "How do you know it's not Ron's?" she asked quietly, her voice low and measured.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Because you know we haven't had sex in a year," she hissed, her voice sharp.

Minerva quirked an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "I thought it was two years."

Hermione's nostrils flared, her eyes flashing with frustration. "It was," she snapped. "But it was his birthday ten months ago!"

Minerva leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepled in front of her as she regarded Hermione with quiet amusement. "Funny, you don't look a month past due," she said softly, though there was a hint of smugness in her tone.

"Don't you dare," Hermione hissed, her voice trembling with fury as she stepped closer to the desk. "You knew exactly what you were doing that night. You knew your transfiguration wasn't just for fun. You were trying to get me pregnant!"

Minerva's expression finally shifted, her calm composure faltering as she sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And so what if I was?" she snapped, her voice defensive now. "You wanted it just as much as I did."

Hermione's jaw tightened, her heart pounding in her chest as she glared at Minerva. "I wanted you, Minerva. I didn't ask for this."

Minerva's eyes flashed, her voice sharp. "Maybe you didn't ask, but you didn't stop me either." She stood up, her chair scraping against the stone floor as she moved around the desk to face Hermione. "You can't stand there and tell me you didn't know there was something more between us."

"That's not the point!" Hermione shot back, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and hurt. "You took advantage of that!"

Minerva's expression softened, but her voice remained firm. "I wanted you to be mine," she said quietly, her tone laced with both affection and frustration. "I've wanted it for years."

Hermione's breath hitched, her emotions swirling in a storm of confusion and betrayal. "I can't just… I have a family, Minerva. This wasn't supposed to happen."

Minerva's eyes flickered with something—regret, perhaps, or maybe just resignation. "You haven't had a real family with Ron in years," she said softly, her voice quieter now but still steady. "You come to me because you want more. Don't pretend you don't."

Hermione's chest tightened, her throat constricting as she struggled to find the right words. "It's not that simple," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Minerva stepped closer, her hand reaching out to gently touch Hermione's arm. "It could be," she murmured, her tone soft but insistent. "It could be, Hermione."

But Hermione pulled away, her breath coming in short, shaky bursts as she shook her head. "No," she whispered, her voice filled with quiet anguish. "You did this to me, Minerva. You didn't give me a choice."

Minerva's eyes darkened, her voice low and defensive. "You had a choice, Hermione. You always had a choice."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening as Minerva's words hung in the air between them. Her heart pounded, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at Minerva, her mind reeling. "What… what are you saying?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, a tremor of fear lacing her words. "Am I supposed to… get rid of it?"

Minerva's eyes widened slightly, the defensiveness slipping from her expression as she took a step closer to Hermione, her tone softening. "No," she said quickly, shaking her head. "No, that's not what I'm saying."

Hermione gasped, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach, her eyes filling with tears as she tried to process the enormity of what was happening. "Then what, Minerva?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What am I supposed to do?"

Minerva's expression softened further, her eyes filled with a mix of longing and determination as she reached for Hermione's hand, holding it gently. "You've already made your decision," Minerva said quietly, her voice firm but filled with emotion. "And now… you can make another one."

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion, her tears spilling over as she shook her head. "What do you mean?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

Minerva took a deep breath, her gaze steady as she met Hermione's tear-filled eyes. "I want you, Hermione. All of you," she said, her voice soft but unwavering. "Leave Ron. Leave the pretense. Bring the kids if you need to… but come be with me."

Hermione's breath hitched, her body trembling as the weight of Minerva's words pressed down on her. "Minerva…" she whispered, her voice trailing off as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. "I… I can't…"

Minerva stepped closer, her hands cupping Hermione's face gently, her thumbs brushing away the tears. "You can," she whispered, her voice filled with quiet conviction. "You've been living a lie, Hermione. You deserve more than that. We deserve more."

Hermione shook her head, her body trembling with the overwhelming weight of everything she was feeling. "What about my children?" she asked, her voice cracking as she looked up at Minerva, her eyes filled with anguish.

"They can come with you," Minerva said softly, her voice gentle but sure. "They'll always be a part of you, and I would never ask you to leave them. But you don't have to keep pretending with Ron. You don't have to live like this."

Hermione let out a soft sob, her tears falling freely now as she shook her head, her heart breaking under the pressure of it all. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Minerva's heart ached at the sight of Hermione's pain, and she pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around her tightly. "You don't have to decide right now," she murmured, her voice filled with quiet tenderness. "But you deserve to be happy, Hermione. You deserve to have what you want."

Hermione's body shook with silent sobs as she buried her face in Minerva's shoulder, her tears soaking into the fabric of her robes. "I'm so scared," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't know what to do."

Minerva pressed a soft kiss to the top of Hermione's head, her arms tightening around her. "It's alright," she whispered, her voice filled with love. "I'm here. Whatever you decide, I'll be here."

For a long moment, they stood there in silence, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth and Hermione's quiet sobs. Minerva held her close, her own heart heavy with the weight of her desire and the uncertainty of what would come next.

"I love you," Minerva whispered, her voice barely audible, as if the words themselves were too fragile to say aloud. "I've always loved you."

Hermione's breath hitched, her body trembling as she clung to Minerva, her heart breaking and mending all at once. "I… I love you too," she whispered through her tears, her voice filled with both fear and hope. "But I don't know how to leave."

Minerva pulled back slightly, her hands still cupping Hermione's face as she looked into her eyes, her gaze steady and filled with quiet determination. "You don't have to leave alone," she said softly, her voice filled with promise. "I'll be with you every step of the way."

Hermione swallowed hard, her tears still flowing as she nodded, her heart aching with the enormity of what lay before her. "I'm just… so scared," she whispered again, her voice barely audible.

Minerva smiled softly, her hands brushing Hermione's hair away from her face as she pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "I know," she murmured, her voice filled with quiet reassurance. "But you're the strongest witch I've ever known. You'll find your way."