- Pronouns
- She/Her
...wait, it's possible to do out-of-narrative worldbuilding and not show your entire ass?
Wild.
Minerva Golding and the Wand of Silver (Harry Potter Deconstruction)
- Thread starter DragonCobolt
- Start date
- Mature Novel Fantasy
Wild.
- Location
- United Kingdom
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I think Gina's bisexual?
I don't think anyone has told Gina she's bisexual though, so she's just Tremendously Normal about her good good buddy Minerva.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
THe problem is having a sexuality would require Gina to think for a few seconds, and thinking isn't Gina's best quality. Doing is! Like doing Minerva!
King Washington
Semi-Depressed Lurker
- Location
- Indiana
Just started reading and finding it very interesting. Vane Villamont is basically supposed to make a composite of Voldemort and Grindelwald, correct?
- Pronouns
- It/Its
let's gooooo, the masquerade is collapsing
- Pronouns
- He/Him
He's just Voldemort cause the idea of the villain trying to *prevent* world war 2 is so bonkers terrible I don't want to even get close to it
holding out hope that someone makes the right sports metaphor to galaxy brain her into it eventually
Chapter Fourteen: Dreaming London
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Minerva realized she stood in a silent room only after she had lowered her arms. Every Sildanius student was looking at her at once - some shocked, some horrified, some with growing fury. Minerva coughed. "I mean...uh…"
"I think Minerva's right," Kat said, immediately.
"Right?" Clyve asked, his eyes boggling. "Right!? The bloody Reds just tore down a thousand years of secrecy and work overnight."
"No, they haven't," Bellatrix said, her eyes snapping into focus as she shook her head. "No, remember, back at the end of the war, my mother told me that they already released the secret treaties and revealed magic back then and no one believed them."
"They were in a bloody civil war," Clyve said. "We could shut them up."
"Yeah," Gregory added. "But they're not anymore, not with their Iron Lady stepping on everyone's bloody-"
"The Premiere isn't a tyrant!" Selene exclaimed.
This once more drew silence to the room as Minerva watched eyes land on the House Wainscove girl. She blinked as everyone looked at her, then waved at them mutely, as if to say 'hello, I am from House Wainscove.'
"Who let that lunatic in here!?" An older Sildanius man asked, stepping over and taking hold of Selene's arm, squeezing her hard.
"Oh thank you!" Selene said, smiling brightly. "I've been trying to align my lunar sensibilities more effectively, I'm glad it's work-" She yelped as the man started to shake her. Minerva stepped forward, but before she could, Gina decided to help.
"Oi! Let her go!" She stepped forward into everyone's line of sight, glaring at the older Sildanius.
"Glintfaire!?" Gregory yelped.
"Don't wear it out!" Gina growled, her hand dropping to her wand.
"Who let these other Houses in here?" The man snarled, then swung his gaze onto Minerva.
"Technically, Gregory let them in," Minerva said, cool as a cucumber. "And as for all this, is now really the time to worry about childish house grandstanding? Whether this is good or not, it's changed the whole wide world all at the same time and we should maybe be considering that and not if a Wainscove girl saw that we have dreadful gargoyles and worse carpeting." She sniffed. The man she was looking at scowled and flushed, then seemed to remember himself. He let Selene go, who brushed her robes straight.
"Thank you," she said, severely. "I have never been manhandled before!"
"How?" Gina whispered. Minerva shushed her.
"It has been quite an experience," Selene finished.
"Please leave, your own houses will have heard all of this," Minerva said, figuring if she had the initiative, she might as well stick with it. She turned to face her friends - noticing with some relief that Harry had remained quiet and in the background and looked ready to slip out without drawing a single glance. "This has been a shock for everyone - we can't all go off half cocked, eh?" She smiled. "We'll meet again later. Say, tomorrow?"
"Or after when the headmaster calls an assembly," Kat added.
Everyone nodded and the non-Sildanius students were allowed to quietly leave - but once the door had slammed shut and locked, the conversation exploded once more. Fortunately, people's ire (or panic) had stopped aiming directly at Minerva. Her outburst was forgotten for the moment as people adjusted the knob on the wireless, trying to bring up wireless stations from elsewhere in the world. When Minerva retreated to her rooms, a spell was being jerry rigged to try and extend the range to get transmissions from the Continent or even further.
When Minerva thumped down onto her bed, her arms spread, her eyes staring up at the ceiling, she found herself alone for the moment…alone with her mind whirling, whirling, whirling. It felt as if every little plan, every little worry, every little dream she had had was entirely cast end over end. Her stomach knotted as she realized…
She hadn't even thought of Petuna in far, far, far too long.
Minerva frowned.
"And I can't even get to her…" she whispered. "If I could just fly my broom."
But no.
There was a twenty four hour trip through the most hostile part of the Astral Plane to reach the mundane world. And there, miles and miles and miles away, across Scotland and England, was Petunia. Was she listening to the mundane radio? Was she in their favorite pub, missing her and wishing she was there to hear the story: That magic was real. That it could be harnessed by the people of the world. Minerva closed her eyes.
I already knew that, Petunia could be saying. Minerva showed me.
"I have to get to her!" She groaned.
"Get to who?"
Minerva jerked upwards. She half expected Kat to be standing in the door. But no. It was Bellatrix. She was regarding her with a curious frown.
"I…I had a mundane friend," Minerva said, finding herself unequal to the task of coming up with yet another lie to burden the world with. "Petunia. She must be hearing this and going utterly mad. But I can't just slip out and fly to her."
Bellatrix bit her lip, then looked back at the door she stood in. "...that's not entirely true," she admitted.
Minerva's brow furrowed.
"I like you, Minerva," Bellatrix said. "You're a good duelist! And a good witch. And, well, you're braver than me." At Minerva's confused look, she blushed and ducked her head forward. "I kind of wanted to start cheering too." She walked over and sat down on the corner of her bed, her hands on her knees. "I know that they're just mundanes, but, having to lie to everyone who isn't a wizard, having to cast spells to blank memories, having to…having to do everything that the Masquerade needs to be kept? It's…I don't quite like it." She ducked her head forward even more, hunching down. "But I can't be like you."
"Yes you can!" Minerva exclaimed, standing up and moving to the other bed. She sat beside Bellatrix, taking her hand.
"I can't!" Bellatrix said, her mousy features flushing as she lifted her gaze to Minerva. "I read about amazing people. You go and do what those amazing people do! You get into duels and go off into secret meetings and are friends with Harry Perry and you're the best in class and and a-and I'm just…" She trailed off. Minerva enfolded both of her hands around Bellatrix's hands, interlacing her fingers. Bellatrix's hand felt shockingly cool, but she started to warm moment by moment as Minerva smiled at her.
"I used to be someone who just read books too," Minerva said. "You just need to be brave and you can do anything."
Bellatrix looked at her. Minerva became quite acutely aware of how very close they were sitting. Her cheeks heated. Oy Vey Iz Mir!, she thought. Am…Am I going to feel this for every…every…oh she is very pretty, isn't she?
"I suppose," Bellatrix murmured. Minerva leaned in. Her lips drew even closer and the distance between herself and Bellatrix seemed to stretch out between her, making every inch feel like miles. Bellatrix's eyes widened in confusion and Minerva realized just what she was about to do when she forced herself to stand to her feet, blushing hard.
"S-So, uh…" She brushed her hands along her hips, forcing her robes to lay flat once more. "W-What was this about, um, you said something about…about…the?" She left the word hanging.
"Sally port!" Bellatrix said.
"Who is Sally Port?" Minerva asked. "Is she in another house?"
Bellatrix blinked at her. "No, the sally port, the, the bolt hole! The secret passage out of a castle!"
"...there's a secret passage?" Minerva's eyebrows went straight up.
Bellatrix and Minerva walked together, with Bellatrix leading the way, through the narrow winding stone. She held aloft her wand, which glowed with a pale luminance, and explained: "Hexgramatica is a castle. Castles have these sally ports so that you can get out during a siege, raid the enemy, sneak in supplies! Otherwise people would just set up camp at the train station and starve us out. And my family has been going through this academy for centuries - my auntie told me about this particular one. Well, uh…oh, why did you have to go talk to Kat before coming here?"
"We're friends," Minerva said, trying to not blush.
Do be gentle with her. I hear polio leaves you-
Minerva had shushed her and felt like a boiling over tea kettle.
"You do seem to be close friends with quite a lot of…ah! Here we are," Bellatrix said, stopping before a narrow V branching in the corridor. "So, that way leads to the trap-pit that slides one into the mulching vats for the apothecarium, and that way leads to the bolthole that leads through the astral. It's a bit of a walk, but a shorter one than the day long trip through the rail."
"How is walking faster than the rail?" Minerva asked. "And…you are quite sure that this way leads out? And it's not the other way around?"
"Quite sure," Bellatrix said, nodding to herself. "Quite sure. And, well, the rail has to go through a safer route, the engine draws more attention. This is a faster, more dangerous way, but since it has just a few students going through it at any one time, it doesn't need to wind so much. Oh, but whatever you do, my auntie told me: Don't. Look. Backwards." She prodded her finger against Minerva's chest.
"Right," Minerva said. "How dangerous is it though?"
"More dangerous than it used to be…but not so dangerous as all that," Bellatrix said, turning back to look down the V pathway. She looked left and right. "Since there are wards, see?" She pointed at some half covered runes. "Okay. And do come back quickly - people will notice if you're gone overlong."
Minerva slipped past her, brushing close. She paused at the entrance to the bolthole's proper exit, then turned back and leaned in to kiss Bellatrix on the cheek. "Remember, you can be brave," she whispered to her.
Bellatrix flushed and smiled at her. "I…I'll try, Minerva."
Minerva turned and then started to walk down the corridor, lifting her wand and whispering a quiet Awer Lēoht So to create a glowing ball at the tip of her wand that shone its light along the walls of the stone bolthole. The brickwork was ancient and worn and faintly damp, and as she strode forward, she heard nothing but her breathing and the clicking of her shoes. The back of her neck prickled as she remembered her trip into the astral plane, and the memory of the terror behind her and the whispered words of the vampire: Wake up. But down here, she was awake and she could not escape easily…she squared her shoulders.
She would simply not look backwards.
A girlish giggle came from behind her, echoing faintly off the walls.
Minerva froze. "Oh you mamzer bastards."
The giggle - the familiar one - came closer, and then Bellatrix's voice purred in her ear. "Hey, I decided to be brave, Minerva." Hands almost brushed along Minerva's shoulders and she was painfully aware of the slender, brown haired girl behind her. She could almost picture her delicate lips, open and waiting and oh so very soft.
"And I am not that stupid," Minerva said, firmly. She started to walk forward again, her shoulders squared. 'Bellatrix' didn't giggle behind her again. She came what felt like half a mile farther before, once more, she heard a snarling growling sound behind her. Claws scraped along the walls, and then she felt something hot and warm and rotting breathe against the nape of her neck. She could picture the claws, the arms, the knotted muscles and the hideous tongue. She closed her eyes and kept walking, her back stiff. Straight. "I am not that stupid, I am not that stupid, I am not that stupid…"
She kept walking, her eyes closed, her hand on the wall, thinking the same thing over and over again.
The third - for there had to be a third, had there not? - sound was a shriek, wailing up to a hideous note of pure pain. Sobbing, that shriek became words. "Minerva! Help me! Help me!" Kat's voice clawed at her ears and the sound of agony grew even louder. Minerva clenched her hands and broke into a run, her stomach knotting. She almost tripped on the stones, her eyes flashing open - and she found herself stumbling out of a narrow crack of stone. She fell forward, skidding along her belly. Cool grass and dew tingled along her nose. Minerva lifted her head, panting softly.
She was out. The moors of Scotland, lit only by the lonely moon and stars, stretched out beyond her. She looked back and saw that she had emerged between a pair of lonely standing stones, as if someone had begun to replicate Stonehenge then grown tired of it. The dark space between them looked ominous. She swore she could see eyes peering out at her, glowering and fierce. Minerva repressed the very Gina-ish urge to stick her tongue out at them. She stood, then reached into her pocket. From it came her broom, the desk chiming and clicking cheerfully as she held it in her palm.
"Ready for a real flight?" Minerva whispered.
Her desk clattered.
Minerva had not ever been flying for long periods of time before - it had been nothing but training under Captain C.C DuVaule-Cordwine, and that was all on maneuver and basic command, and it had all been under fierce direction with none of that skylarking, young miss! ready to be tossed out at any time, for any reason.
So, when she took to the air above Scotland and began to fly south, she could not resist the urge to corkscrew and flip and fly at a greater speed than she had ever flown before. She swept down over copses of trees, then laughed as she soared up towards the clouds overhead. A spell kept her warm and the night seemed infinite and purely for her to enjoy.
But the simple joys gave way before the sheer scale of England - even at her maximum speed, soaring towards London took far longer than she had expected. And what began as a delight became somewhat tedious, then a bore, broken up only by seeing the towns and the villages that she made sure to give quite a berth around. Minerva leaned back into her seat, her eyes closing for a moment.
Then, before she knew it, she was at London. The excitement of being here so quickly led her to Petunia's window, and all the ideas of what she might do…of what she…could do now that she was confident and sensual and powerful…
That thought was burning through her brain well after Petunia was sitting up and blinking blearily. Petunia looked out the window and saw her, and the look of delight and wonder on her face was enough to warm Minerva from her toes to her head. Petunia stood, grabbing her crutch and using it to hobble herself over to the window. She opened it and beamed at Minerva.
"Minerva!" She exclaimed. "Am I dreaming?"
"No, no!" Minerva slid from the chair of her desk, setting her rump down on the top, allowing it to float her up so she and Petunia were looking at one another. This movement caused Petunia to tear her eyes from Minerva to look down at the desk.
"Is that…a flying…desk?" Petunia asked.
"It is…" Minerva said. "May I come in?"
"Of course!" Petunia said, smiling at her.
Petunia stepped back and Minerva slipped her legs over the sill. She swung in and waved her wand, whispering a quiet spell to shrink the desk down. It flitted in after her and the window shut and Minerva found herself hugged by both arms - Petunia put her weight onto Minerva, forcing her to hold her up. Not that that was really an issue, considering Petunia felt so light weight compared to…other girls. Minerva slid her arms around her back, whispering softly. "I'm sorry I've been away so long."
"It's only been a few months," Petunia said, her voice playful.
"Has it?" Minerva laughed. "It's felt like lifetimes." She shuffled, then sat down on the bed. Had their rooms always been so tiny?
As she sat down, Petunia yelped and was dragged onto her lap. Her withered leg was uncovered by her brace and by her nightclothes, and it hung at an awkward angle until Minerva reached down and took hold of her knee, drawing it up. There, Petunia sat on Minerva's lap, looking down at her. Minerva looked up. Her smile was gentle.
"Did you hear about…on the wireless?"
"Yes, I did!" Petunia said. "Should I move?"
"No," Minerva said, quietly. "No, I think you're quite all right there." Her hand slid along the side of Petunia's knee up to her hip, rumpling her nightclothes. Petunia's eyes widened in confusion.
"Minerva…"
"There's something else I learned at Hexgramatica, Petunia," Minerva said. She leaned forward, punch drunk with Petunia's closeness and her intoxicating beauty. Their lips pressed together. Petunia didn't kiss back. Her eyes widened and she made a confused noise, then a soft mewling sound as Minerva tilted her head to the side. Minerva's tongue slid against her tongue and Petunia grabbed onto her shoulders…not…quite pushing her away, but not really drawing her in. Minerva felt her hesitance and confusion and to her mild shame, it aroused an even brighter excitement between her thighs. Her hands openly cupped Petunia's ass, squeezing her, drawing her close.
Petunia broke the kiss now, gasping. "M-Minerva!"
The room jolted. Minerva jerked.
Her eyes blinked open as her desk shook her from side to side and she blinked sleep out of her eyes, her brain feeling as if she had been quite short circuited. She blinked a few more times and whispered. "Oy vey!" She put her palm over her face.
A dream.
That had been a dream.
"Oh I'm just…I'm…" She grumbled to herself.
And then her desk shook her again and jiggled. "What are you doing, you absurd thing, I'm up!"
"Good lord, what kind of a broom is that!?"
Minerva almost screamed. Her face was bright red as she jerked her head up-
Then froze.
"Why that's almost exactly like- bloody hell, Minerva Schross-Scableknight!?" Captain C. C DuVaule-Cordwine exclaimed as he ducked his broom forward a touch to come level with her. "What above God's green earth are you doing here!?"
Minerva, too dislocated by her wakening, too wrong footed by her utterly absurd and obscene dream, gaped stupidly at the Captain. "What are you doing here?" popped out of her mouth.
"Well! I could ask the same!" Captain Cordwine used his most impressive attribute - his large and cleft chin - to the best of his ability, sticking it out like a bullfrog as he lifted his head. "I happen to be on a vital mission for the War Ministry - you've heard on the Wireless, those blasted Reds have decided to toss the world into the fireplace just on a lark. Well, the ministry needs to decide what to do about it - and that meant calling back all their best officers, and I don't mind saying, I'm one of them. Only the best for Hexgramatica and all that. Now…" He leaned in, looking right at her. "If I ask you, will you be having a permission from the Headmaster?"
Minerva blushed. "No…" She admitted, as she knew that any attempt to lie would be found out fast as winking. "I just had to talk to a friend of mine - about all this."
"Ah, say no more!" Captain Cordwine said. "I expect everyone's running in a tizzy about all this. Sides, the best pilots know when to take initiative, show some proper dash." He paused. "Well, unless they're mundane chaps, I suppose, those poor blighters were all firing line this, massed firepower that." He clicked his tongue. "Not a spot of adventure in the lot of them by the end there. Not that I could blame them."
Minerva felt a flare of hope. "S-So…"
"So I don't believe I noticed anything in my flight to the Ministry myself," Captain Cordwine said, beaming at her and giving her a big wink. "Though, you know, if I were to happen to spy you on my way back, and you maybe followed me home, well, I won't say I've been struck blind…"
"T-Thank you, sir!" Minerva said - she had been a little leery about finding her way back home. She had several spells in mind that could have made it easier, but having the navigational aid of an expert flier would be far better. She bit her lip, then skimmed her desk closer to his broom. "W-Why are you being so, um, helpful, sir?"
Captain Cordwine grinned at her. "Why, you're the most impressive flier I've seen in all my days. Not in the technicalities, no, but in the imagination. Your broom is so ruddy impressive, I've sent five letters to the War Ministry - four maxims on a broom, can you imagine it?" He looked distant, as if he was already imagining enemy wizards going down in droves. "Just need to knock it through their thick heads. Won't help if the wizard who pioneered it got kicked out on her tail, what?"
Minerva chuckled. "Thank you, Captain."
"Think nothing of it. I'll be in this quadrant of London this time tomorrow. Keep an eye out! Comfort the young sir - I am, ahem, assuming he is handsome as well as in need of a kind word?" His eyes sparkled.
Minerva tried to not choke. "Sir!"
Captain Cordwine laughed and flew away - soaring towards the heart of London.
Minerva flew down towards Petunia's rooms and had to admit, she was a little cross at herself. Petunia is depending on you to heal her. And here you are, thinking of…of holding that healing above her head and just making her dance to your tune like some kind of…of…of molesting brute!
The fact that if someone had done the opposite to her, a part of Minerva would have rather enjoyed it, only made her feel more deeply chagrined. She shook her head as her desk slowed and slowed, coming to Petunia's room. It was late in the evening, so she expected Petunia to be abed, and when she peeked into the window, she saw nothing but darkness. She warred with the guilt of waking her dear friend when a faint sound squeaked through the window. Minerva craned her head, narrowed her eyes and…gaped in shock.
Petunia was laying upon her back, with one leg thrown up, the other tucked to the side, beneath her blankets…and her body was entirely nude and…oh…
Minerva's eyes widened more as she saw that her Petunia, the very girl she was imagining earlier, was being taken. That was the only phrase for it, she was being taken in a quite manly fashion by…well…a man! Minerva didn't recognize him, but that wasn't entirely surprising: He was black. Which did mean that he was none of the regulars at their favorite pub or any of her coworkers or any of the other residents in the building, something that Minerva felt obscurely relieved about.
After all, some mysterious new man was better than Petunia settling.
The man withdrew from Petunia. He peeled off his condom and Minerva risked touching her wand to the window and whispering a soft kemb spell, opening the smallest hole so that she could put her ear to it.
"I keep saying, you shouldn't have to stay here, darling," he said, his voice sparking within Minerva…a sudden realization.
She knew this man.
She gaped. How did she know this man?
She had heard his voice before, but…
"It can't be," she whispered, while Petunia laughed.
"Gregory, please! I still owe a month's rent-"
"Which I can pay!" Gregory Klamath Utah Smith, Great War veteran, widower, American, and all around adventurer and remarkable fellow said as he stretched one arm up behind his back, cricking his neck to the side. This caused his impressive musculature to rippled most alarmingly beneath his sky dark skin.
"Aren't you Americans always the ones saying to never a borrower or lender be?" Petunia asked. "Franklyn, right?"
Gregory was still, then chuckled, his teeth flashing in the darkness. "Shakespeare."
"Oh," Petunia colored.
Gregory slid into the bed. But before he could speak, Petunia leaned her head against his shoulder, her voice soft. "A-And there is the fact your in-laws are still trying to claw poor Francine's savings out of your hands. And after she left it all to you!" She shook her head. "I'm sure they could use this as some kind of an excuse. It's not like I am the most becoming of choice for a woman for you…" Her hand twitched, tugging her blanket slightly over her thigh.
"Oh my little flower," Gregory said, leaning in. The kiss was intimate and reminded Mineva quite a lot of some of the kisses she had stolen with Kat. She felt rather low for stealing this glimpse into what was so private. She drew her head back, while the kiss continued - and then Petunia's voice carried through the hole she had made.
"Go. Go on. Get out before someone wakes up and sees…"
"We shall flee to France next time," Gregory said, standing. There was another soft kiss. The door opened, then closed once more. Minerva peeked back in and saw Petunia putting her fingers to her lips, before flinging herself back into the bed, her arms spreading wide.
"Bother," she whispered.
Minerva gulped, then lifted her hand and rapped gently on the window. Petunia lifted her head and she and Minerva both met one another's eyes. Petunia's eyes went wide. She opened her mouth. Then she hastily grabbed her blanket and yanked it over herself. She scrambled to her feet, using the wall, then her crutch to hobble over to the window. SHe stood there, barely clad, her hand grabbing onto the sheets she had draped around herself, and watched as Minerva took hold of the window (it did help that she had sculpted a hole into it) and pulled up. Once it had risen out of the way, Minerva smiled.
"Good evening, Petunia," she said.
"What are you doing here!?" Petunia whispered.
"I, uh, I came to visit you!" Minerva said, then shivered as the wind blew past her. "Can I come in?"
Petunia shook her head slowly, then laughed, a ragged, weary, confused laugh. But still a laugh. "Yes! Yes you can come in. Just let me dress." She hobbled away from the window and Minerva began to work through the steps of getting off the desk, the desk into her pockets, and her in the room all without dropping straight down several stories to her death. As the window slid shut and she quietly whispered a soft kemb spell to reforge the hole shut, Petunia sat on the bed and flicked on the lights, her nightclothes concealing her nudity, her crutch leaning against the wall.
"So, uh…" Minerva snapped her fingers and clapped them against her palm. "How did you meet Gregory Klamth Utah Smith?"
"You know him?" Petunia asked.
"After a fashion," Minerva said. "My friend Gina bewitched him to drive us to Waterloo Station. He had a rather nobby autocar, if I remember right."
"...interesting…" Petunia said. "See, he came around my corner and, well, out of the blue, he asked me if I happened to know a lady named Minerva. Well, of course, I did, and as he's not exactly the kind of person to be running with Mosely's goons." Minerva smiled dryly at that. "So, we got to talking. He wasn't entirely sure why he was looking for you - he admitted, he was mostly just driving to take his mind off things, and…well, I asked him what things and heard this awful story about his harridan of a sister in law and those hideous brothers in law of him, absolute wretched people. So, we got to talking more, and he offered to buy a matchbox…"
"And one thing led to another?" Minerva asked, her smile playful.
Petunia's cheeks flushed. "He's very dignified!" she said, her own voice weighted with intense dignity. "And…"
"Older?" Minerva teased yet more.
"Handsome! Besides, forty isn't old…" Petunia's voice dripped into a soft mutter mutter there. "Not old at all."
"WEll, I'm no one to judge," Minerva said. She took her seat and frowned. "Though…I suppose I should bring your thanks to Gina. Do you care for this man?" At Petunia's blush and squirm and wriggle, she smiled. "Do you care for him quite a lot?" Petunia stuck her tongue out at her, which was more than enough answer. "Then I'll have to thank Gina. Mind magic, ah, it seems can have a long term effect. Most people dismiss it as deja vu, but, well, he is quite a strong willed man. So, he sought me out and found you…" She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing. "You've heard on the wireless?"
"That is why he came here," Petunia admitted. "He has to visit late at night, people would talk otherwise."
"Ah, just to talk politics?" Minerva asked, teasing her friend.
"Y-you must think I'm quite a…a…that i'm some kind of…" Petunia groped for words. Minerva slid her arm around her shoulder, drawing her close.
"I have nothing to brag of," she said, nodding. "Let me tell you my story."
She had been afraid of baring every little thing she'd done to Petunia - but, well, after having seen what Petunia had been up to, she wasn't afraid anymore. She told every detail, and Petunia listened and nodded and gasped, then slapped Minerva's shoulder.
"A werewolf!?" She exclaimed. "A werewolf transvestite?"
"She's more of a…the word she used, uh, was transexual, I think!" Minerva said, a bit at sea at how best to describe Kat.
"I've never even heard of a transexual," Petunia said, frowning.
"It's German," Minerva said, smiling at her. Stevenson and Titania's names tingled on the tip of her tongue as Petunia turned that frown on her. Minerva's bravery fled. "T-Then, uh, the, uh, the Soviet Union news broke and I came right over."
Petunia leaned back on her palms. Her good leg kicked gently at the air, swaying.
"What does…all this mean?" she asked.
Minerva bit her lip. "Well…it means that the world is changing. It means…we may not need be secret in this new world. It may mean that I can do more than just heal your leg! And, uh, I will have to apologize to Mr. Smith about the ensorcelling, if he hasn't figured it out yet. But yes, you have to meet my girls, and I have to meet your boy!"
Petunia nodded.
Then her brow furrowed.
"Wait, did you say girls?" Her eyes narrowed.
Minerva squirmed. She kicked herself for three times a fool.
"...ahem, several, actually," Minerva said, blushing and rubbing the nape of her neck, her eyes closing as she smiled sheepishly.
"My best friend has become a harlot!" Petunia exclaimed.
"Oh you!" Minerva grabbed onto Petunia's arm, tugging her close. "You're Miss I'm Sleeping with a man old enough to be her-"
"He's not old enough to be anything of the sort!" Petunia squeaked out before Minerva could utter the word Daddy.
"Well, I suppose I'm not one to talk…"
"Oh? Who was this?" Her eyes narrowed.
"Stevenson, er, uh, Melissa," Minerva said, her cheeks darkening.
Petunia narrowed her eyes even more. Minerva squirmed.
"Professor Melissa Stevenson," she whispered.
"Minerva, you minx!"
"In my defense, it has been quite educational," Minerva said, smiling wickedly. She forced her hand away from Petunia's thigh - she was not going to grope her friend. Even if her friend was making it exceedingly difficult to not just…to not just…she forced her mind back on track, and as she did so, something clicked into place. "Wait, you're not shocked that I'm a lesbian?" She asked, blinking slowly.
"That?" Petunia asked. "Lord, I knew that since we met, I'm long over my little panic about it. It's exceedingly obvious."
Minerva's head jerked upright. "You what?" she asked.
"Please, my sisters went to a proper boarding school, they had stories. Now…" Petunia paused. "I must ask, have you figured out… well, can you heal my leg?"
Minerva's amusement and offense vanished into smoke. She sighed.
"Not…I…that is, there…" Minerva groped for words. "I'm still working on my magics. I will learn to heal your leg. It's just more complicated than I expected and, ah, well, if you fail in casting your healing magics, it tends to cause rather nasty cancers." She winced at the idea. "But I…I just…I wanted to visit…"
"Oh so you claim!" Petunia's eyes opened to narrowed slits - and Minerva relaxed as she saw Petunia's glittering warmth in them. "Maybe you heard I'm dating a very wealthy man and wanted to borrow some money."
"Likely!" Minerva laughed. Petunia laughed back, then leaned against her. Minerva badly wished to whisk her away. She could see that Petunia couldn't stay with Mr. Smith, no matter how badly they both wanted it. And she could also see that Petunia here was…running quite a few dangerous risks. An unwed woman, laying with a black man in London? While it was not as suicidal as, say, the American South, it wasn't exactly a healthy long term way to survive.
It occurred to Minerva, somewhat bitterly, that Petunia probably knew that already, and figured it wouldn't much affect her longevity one way or another.
If only…
If…
Only.
Minerva cocked her head as a remarkable idea occurred to her.
"Petunia, how would you like to live among goblins for a time?" She asked, quietly.
Petunia cocked her head around. "W-What?"
"I can bring you with me. You…will have to be shrunk for the trip and hide in my pocket until I can sneak you into the village beside Hexgramatica, and then I can pay for you to have a room - you can pretend to be a wizard fairly easily, I…that could work," Minerva said, excitedly. Petunia gaped at her, sitting up.
"You can't be serious!" she said.
"Why not?" Minerva asked. "You're in an untenable position - as much as you may care for Mr. Smith, if either of you were found out, it'd be the end of you. And you can't live with him, and even if he wants you to go to him…"
"I can't just run out on him," Petunia said, horrified.
"Then we shall invite him too!" Minerva said, nodding sagely. "I can fit you both in my pockets. And…and we need mundane allies too. And if anyone is suited to taking on a wizard, it would be a Great War veteran." She lifted her chin, slightly. "Those awful Ars Magicka people I mentioned? They're going to go completely mad with the Masquerade being torn down." She smiled. "And I wager he'd be happy to see the back end of his relatives for a time."
Petunia stammered. "But…but that can't be legal, I'm sure they don't let us non-magical types into your school. A-And what about my job?"
"Damn the law and damn your job!" Minerva grabbed both of her hands, squeezing her. "Petunia, I want to whisk you away from all of this. You can't say you'd rather make bloody matchboxes rather than that!"
Petunia opened her mouth. She closed it. She looked aside.
"All I want is to stand on my own two legs…"
Minerva squeezed both of her hands with her left, her right cupping Petunia's cheek. "It is not weakness to accept help, Petunia. It's the greatest strength of them all, sometimes." She leaned in. "Please. I can't bear you staying in this awful place, working that hideous job, and…and…" She blushed. "And being so far from me."
Petunia blushed. She looked aside. She considered. "Will I like this Kat?" she asked, quietly.
The sudden and vivid image of a bed bound Petunia, her thighs spread, while Kat plowed into her with her impressive girlcock, the young mundane girl unable to even resist her overwhelming feminine strength, and unwilling to even try, exploded through Minerva's head. She was sure it'd be utterly impossible, Petunia seemed straight as an arrow and hooked on a man.
It didn't stop her brain, though.
"...will I?" Petunia asked.
"Yes, quite! And I think Kat would like Mr. Smith," she said, nodding.
Petunia frowned. "Very well. I…does this spell require some…some ritual or something?"
"Not in the slightest," Minerva said. She stood and stretched, her back popping. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Petunia taking in her nude form and saw the attentive gleam in those blue eyes. That little excited spark was enough to make Minerva feel like ten Professor Stevenson's at once. She grinned, then held up her wand, snatching it from the floor where it had rolled. Her stomach growled - she had been casting without food for a while - but she supposed she was good for one more spell. She aimed, then flicked. "Kemb Subtrahe Miċelnes Wif!"
Petunia glowed and Minerva felt her head wobble slightly - she had rarely cast a spell with four words, and she felt the extra tug of energy. She kept her focus as Petunia shrunk and shrunk and shrunk, until she was the size of a pencil at best. Her voice squeaked, tiny and high pitched. "Oh lord!"
"See?" Minerva said, starting to dress with a grin. "Now, you fit into my pocket."
Petunia's voice squeaked: "But what about my clothes? My crutch? My stuff?"
Minerva glanced around. "I think I can pack most of this in the desk." She smiled. "Imagine if I had a proper broom, eh?"
"I'd rather not!" Petunia squeaked.
They flew from the building as Petunia stuck her head from Minerva's pocket. "His house is this way," she said.
Minerva nodded as they soared over London, and towards the townhouse home of Mr. Smith. They came down towards the front window, and Minerva glanced at the city skies. She knew that they only had a limited amount of time to get this done before Captain Cordwine would be back at the position he had offered her. So, she-
She swung her head around and found herself nose to barrel with what appeared to be a quite deadly looking bolt action rifle, held in the steady hands of one Gregory Klamath Utah Smith. He frowned, intently.
"So," he said. "You are a witch."
Minerva raised her hands and smiled.
"Hello, Gregory!" Petunia chirruped, lifting her head and arm from Minerva's pocket.
"I think Minerva's right," Kat said, immediately.
"Right?" Clyve asked, his eyes boggling. "Right!? The bloody Reds just tore down a thousand years of secrecy and work overnight."
"No, they haven't," Bellatrix said, her eyes snapping into focus as she shook her head. "No, remember, back at the end of the war, my mother told me that they already released the secret treaties and revealed magic back then and no one believed them."
"They were in a bloody civil war," Clyve said. "We could shut them up."
"Yeah," Gregory added. "But they're not anymore, not with their Iron Lady stepping on everyone's bloody-"
"The Premiere isn't a tyrant!" Selene exclaimed.
This once more drew silence to the room as Minerva watched eyes land on the House Wainscove girl. She blinked as everyone looked at her, then waved at them mutely, as if to say 'hello, I am from House Wainscove.'
"Who let that lunatic in here!?" An older Sildanius man asked, stepping over and taking hold of Selene's arm, squeezing her hard.
"Oh thank you!" Selene said, smiling brightly. "I've been trying to align my lunar sensibilities more effectively, I'm glad it's work-" She yelped as the man started to shake her. Minerva stepped forward, but before she could, Gina decided to help.
"Oi! Let her go!" She stepped forward into everyone's line of sight, glaring at the older Sildanius.
"Glintfaire!?" Gregory yelped.
"Don't wear it out!" Gina growled, her hand dropping to her wand.
"Who let these other Houses in here?" The man snarled, then swung his gaze onto Minerva.
"Technically, Gregory let them in," Minerva said, cool as a cucumber. "And as for all this, is now really the time to worry about childish house grandstanding? Whether this is good or not, it's changed the whole wide world all at the same time and we should maybe be considering that and not if a Wainscove girl saw that we have dreadful gargoyles and worse carpeting." She sniffed. The man she was looking at scowled and flushed, then seemed to remember himself. He let Selene go, who brushed her robes straight.
"Thank you," she said, severely. "I have never been manhandled before!"
"How?" Gina whispered. Minerva shushed her.
"It has been quite an experience," Selene finished.
"Please leave, your own houses will have heard all of this," Minerva said, figuring if she had the initiative, she might as well stick with it. She turned to face her friends - noticing with some relief that Harry had remained quiet and in the background and looked ready to slip out without drawing a single glance. "This has been a shock for everyone - we can't all go off half cocked, eh?" She smiled. "We'll meet again later. Say, tomorrow?"
"Or after when the headmaster calls an assembly," Kat added.
Everyone nodded and the non-Sildanius students were allowed to quietly leave - but once the door had slammed shut and locked, the conversation exploded once more. Fortunately, people's ire (or panic) had stopped aiming directly at Minerva. Her outburst was forgotten for the moment as people adjusted the knob on the wireless, trying to bring up wireless stations from elsewhere in the world. When Minerva retreated to her rooms, a spell was being jerry rigged to try and extend the range to get transmissions from the Continent or even further.
When Minerva thumped down onto her bed, her arms spread, her eyes staring up at the ceiling, she found herself alone for the moment…alone with her mind whirling, whirling, whirling. It felt as if every little plan, every little worry, every little dream she had had was entirely cast end over end. Her stomach knotted as she realized…
She hadn't even thought of Petuna in far, far, far too long.
Minerva frowned.
"And I can't even get to her…" she whispered. "If I could just fly my broom."
But no.
There was a twenty four hour trip through the most hostile part of the Astral Plane to reach the mundane world. And there, miles and miles and miles away, across Scotland and England, was Petunia. Was she listening to the mundane radio? Was she in their favorite pub, missing her and wishing she was there to hear the story: That magic was real. That it could be harnessed by the people of the world. Minerva closed her eyes.
I already knew that, Petunia could be saying. Minerva showed me.
"I have to get to her!" She groaned.
"Get to who?"
Minerva jerked upwards. She half expected Kat to be standing in the door. But no. It was Bellatrix. She was regarding her with a curious frown.
"I…I had a mundane friend," Minerva said, finding herself unequal to the task of coming up with yet another lie to burden the world with. "Petunia. She must be hearing this and going utterly mad. But I can't just slip out and fly to her."
Bellatrix bit her lip, then looked back at the door she stood in. "...that's not entirely true," she admitted.
Minerva's brow furrowed.
"I like you, Minerva," Bellatrix said. "You're a good duelist! And a good witch. And, well, you're braver than me." At Minerva's confused look, she blushed and ducked her head forward. "I kind of wanted to start cheering too." She walked over and sat down on the corner of her bed, her hands on her knees. "I know that they're just mundanes, but, having to lie to everyone who isn't a wizard, having to cast spells to blank memories, having to…having to do everything that the Masquerade needs to be kept? It's…I don't quite like it." She ducked her head forward even more, hunching down. "But I can't be like you."
"Yes you can!" Minerva exclaimed, standing up and moving to the other bed. She sat beside Bellatrix, taking her hand.
"I can't!" Bellatrix said, her mousy features flushing as she lifted her gaze to Minerva. "I read about amazing people. You go and do what those amazing people do! You get into duels and go off into secret meetings and are friends with Harry Perry and you're the best in class and and a-and I'm just…" She trailed off. Minerva enfolded both of her hands around Bellatrix's hands, interlacing her fingers. Bellatrix's hand felt shockingly cool, but she started to warm moment by moment as Minerva smiled at her.
"I used to be someone who just read books too," Minerva said. "You just need to be brave and you can do anything."
Bellatrix looked at her. Minerva became quite acutely aware of how very close they were sitting. Her cheeks heated. Oy Vey Iz Mir!, she thought. Am…Am I going to feel this for every…every…oh she is very pretty, isn't she?
"I suppose," Bellatrix murmured. Minerva leaned in. Her lips drew even closer and the distance between herself and Bellatrix seemed to stretch out between her, making every inch feel like miles. Bellatrix's eyes widened in confusion and Minerva realized just what she was about to do when she forced herself to stand to her feet, blushing hard.
"S-So, uh…" She brushed her hands along her hips, forcing her robes to lay flat once more. "W-What was this about, um, you said something about…about…the?" She left the word hanging.
"Sally port!" Bellatrix said.
"Who is Sally Port?" Minerva asked. "Is she in another house?"
Bellatrix blinked at her. "No, the sally port, the, the bolt hole! The secret passage out of a castle!"
"...there's a secret passage?" Minerva's eyebrows went straight up.
***
Bellatrix and Minerva walked together, with Bellatrix leading the way, through the narrow winding stone. She held aloft her wand, which glowed with a pale luminance, and explained: "Hexgramatica is a castle. Castles have these sally ports so that you can get out during a siege, raid the enemy, sneak in supplies! Otherwise people would just set up camp at the train station and starve us out. And my family has been going through this academy for centuries - my auntie told me about this particular one. Well, uh…oh, why did you have to go talk to Kat before coming here?"
"We're friends," Minerva said, trying to not blush.
Do be gentle with her. I hear polio leaves you-
Minerva had shushed her and felt like a boiling over tea kettle.
"You do seem to be close friends with quite a lot of…ah! Here we are," Bellatrix said, stopping before a narrow V branching in the corridor. "So, that way leads to the trap-pit that slides one into the mulching vats for the apothecarium, and that way leads to the bolthole that leads through the astral. It's a bit of a walk, but a shorter one than the day long trip through the rail."
"How is walking faster than the rail?" Minerva asked. "And…you are quite sure that this way leads out? And it's not the other way around?"
"Quite sure," Bellatrix said, nodding to herself. "Quite sure. And, well, the rail has to go through a safer route, the engine draws more attention. This is a faster, more dangerous way, but since it has just a few students going through it at any one time, it doesn't need to wind so much. Oh, but whatever you do, my auntie told me: Don't. Look. Backwards." She prodded her finger against Minerva's chest.
"Right," Minerva said. "How dangerous is it though?"
"More dangerous than it used to be…but not so dangerous as all that," Bellatrix said, turning back to look down the V pathway. She looked left and right. "Since there are wards, see?" She pointed at some half covered runes. "Okay. And do come back quickly - people will notice if you're gone overlong."
Minerva slipped past her, brushing close. She paused at the entrance to the bolthole's proper exit, then turned back and leaned in to kiss Bellatrix on the cheek. "Remember, you can be brave," she whispered to her.
Bellatrix flushed and smiled at her. "I…I'll try, Minerva."
Minerva turned and then started to walk down the corridor, lifting her wand and whispering a quiet Awer Lēoht So to create a glowing ball at the tip of her wand that shone its light along the walls of the stone bolthole. The brickwork was ancient and worn and faintly damp, and as she strode forward, she heard nothing but her breathing and the clicking of her shoes. The back of her neck prickled as she remembered her trip into the astral plane, and the memory of the terror behind her and the whispered words of the vampire: Wake up. But down here, she was awake and she could not escape easily…she squared her shoulders.
She would simply not look backwards.
A girlish giggle came from behind her, echoing faintly off the walls.
Minerva froze. "Oh you mamzer bastards."
The giggle - the familiar one - came closer, and then Bellatrix's voice purred in her ear. "Hey, I decided to be brave, Minerva." Hands almost brushed along Minerva's shoulders and she was painfully aware of the slender, brown haired girl behind her. She could almost picture her delicate lips, open and waiting and oh so very soft.
"And I am not that stupid," Minerva said, firmly. She started to walk forward again, her shoulders squared. 'Bellatrix' didn't giggle behind her again. She came what felt like half a mile farther before, once more, she heard a snarling growling sound behind her. Claws scraped along the walls, and then she felt something hot and warm and rotting breathe against the nape of her neck. She could picture the claws, the arms, the knotted muscles and the hideous tongue. She closed her eyes and kept walking, her back stiff. Straight. "I am not that stupid, I am not that stupid, I am not that stupid…"
She kept walking, her eyes closed, her hand on the wall, thinking the same thing over and over again.
The third - for there had to be a third, had there not? - sound was a shriek, wailing up to a hideous note of pure pain. Sobbing, that shriek became words. "Minerva! Help me! Help me!" Kat's voice clawed at her ears and the sound of agony grew even louder. Minerva clenched her hands and broke into a run, her stomach knotting. She almost tripped on the stones, her eyes flashing open - and she found herself stumbling out of a narrow crack of stone. She fell forward, skidding along her belly. Cool grass and dew tingled along her nose. Minerva lifted her head, panting softly.
She was out. The moors of Scotland, lit only by the lonely moon and stars, stretched out beyond her. She looked back and saw that she had emerged between a pair of lonely standing stones, as if someone had begun to replicate Stonehenge then grown tired of it. The dark space between them looked ominous. She swore she could see eyes peering out at her, glowering and fierce. Minerva repressed the very Gina-ish urge to stick her tongue out at them. She stood, then reached into her pocket. From it came her broom, the desk chiming and clicking cheerfully as she held it in her palm.
"Ready for a real flight?" Minerva whispered.
Her desk clattered.
***
Minerva had not ever been flying for long periods of time before - it had been nothing but training under Captain C.C DuVaule-Cordwine, and that was all on maneuver and basic command, and it had all been under fierce direction with none of that skylarking, young miss! ready to be tossed out at any time, for any reason.
So, when she took to the air above Scotland and began to fly south, she could not resist the urge to corkscrew and flip and fly at a greater speed than she had ever flown before. She swept down over copses of trees, then laughed as she soared up towards the clouds overhead. A spell kept her warm and the night seemed infinite and purely for her to enjoy.
But the simple joys gave way before the sheer scale of England - even at her maximum speed, soaring towards London took far longer than she had expected. And what began as a delight became somewhat tedious, then a bore, broken up only by seeing the towns and the villages that she made sure to give quite a berth around. Minerva leaned back into her seat, her eyes closing for a moment.
Then, before she knew it, she was at London. The excitement of being here so quickly led her to Petunia's window, and all the ideas of what she might do…of what she…could do now that she was confident and sensual and powerful…
That thought was burning through her brain well after Petunia was sitting up and blinking blearily. Petunia looked out the window and saw her, and the look of delight and wonder on her face was enough to warm Minerva from her toes to her head. Petunia stood, grabbing her crutch and using it to hobble herself over to the window. She opened it and beamed at Minerva.
"Minerva!" She exclaimed. "Am I dreaming?"
"No, no!" Minerva slid from the chair of her desk, setting her rump down on the top, allowing it to float her up so she and Petunia were looking at one another. This movement caused Petunia to tear her eyes from Minerva to look down at the desk.
"Is that…a flying…desk?" Petunia asked.
"It is…" Minerva said. "May I come in?"
"Of course!" Petunia said, smiling at her.
Petunia stepped back and Minerva slipped her legs over the sill. She swung in and waved her wand, whispering a quiet spell to shrink the desk down. It flitted in after her and the window shut and Minerva found herself hugged by both arms - Petunia put her weight onto Minerva, forcing her to hold her up. Not that that was really an issue, considering Petunia felt so light weight compared to…other girls. Minerva slid her arms around her back, whispering softly. "I'm sorry I've been away so long."
"It's only been a few months," Petunia said, her voice playful.
"Has it?" Minerva laughed. "It's felt like lifetimes." She shuffled, then sat down on the bed. Had their rooms always been so tiny?
As she sat down, Petunia yelped and was dragged onto her lap. Her withered leg was uncovered by her brace and by her nightclothes, and it hung at an awkward angle until Minerva reached down and took hold of her knee, drawing it up. There, Petunia sat on Minerva's lap, looking down at her. Minerva looked up. Her smile was gentle.
"Did you hear about…on the wireless?"
"Yes, I did!" Petunia said. "Should I move?"
"No," Minerva said, quietly. "No, I think you're quite all right there." Her hand slid along the side of Petunia's knee up to her hip, rumpling her nightclothes. Petunia's eyes widened in confusion.
"Minerva…"
"There's something else I learned at Hexgramatica, Petunia," Minerva said. She leaned forward, punch drunk with Petunia's closeness and her intoxicating beauty. Their lips pressed together. Petunia didn't kiss back. Her eyes widened and she made a confused noise, then a soft mewling sound as Minerva tilted her head to the side. Minerva's tongue slid against her tongue and Petunia grabbed onto her shoulders…not…quite pushing her away, but not really drawing her in. Minerva felt her hesitance and confusion and to her mild shame, it aroused an even brighter excitement between her thighs. Her hands openly cupped Petunia's ass, squeezing her, drawing her close.
Petunia broke the kiss now, gasping. "M-Minerva!"
Minerva ravages Petunia!
"I've always wanted to do this, Petunia. You're so beautiful and…and I've felt this way about women my whole life, it feels. I just never had the words for it. And Petunia, I know you feel the same way, I just know it," Minerva said, the words tumbling from her mouth as Petunia blushed and shook her head.
"W-We can't! I…it's not right!" Petunia said. Minerva cupped the small of her back with one hand, drawing her close, leaning in. Her lips found Petunia's neck as the girl whispered. "We're both girls, and…oh…" She groaned as Minerva used her teeth, teasing along her skin. Her left hand squeezed Petunia's rump. Petunia's eyes fluttered half shut, her head rolling to the back and the side, exposing more of her neck. Minerva flashed onto the mental image of Harry and Robert, the vampire's fangs driving deep, and her imagination coiled around. The Enrage, lurking beneath the foundations of Hexgramatica, enfolding her in her arms…except now, she was the one, the seductive darkness calling from the shadows…
And as she sucked, gently, on Petunia's peach perfect skin, tasting her delicious silkness, she felt Petunia respond. Through her thin nightclothes, she could feel her eager hard nipples. She could scent her gathering excitement. She could hear her mewling softly. "Minerva, this is ungodly!"
Minerva tugged up her top. Petunia lifted her arms, blushing.
"Please, do stop," Petunia whispered.
"I think I shall not," Minerva said, tossing her bedclothes away. Under the harsh glow of the electric light in the room, Petunia's were as perfect as she had ever imagined. Mienrva cupped both with her hands, squeezing them. Petunia was a petite woman. Her tits filled her palms most delightfully and her fingers found those rosy nipples, tugging them gently. Gently. Petunia ducked her head forward, her withered leg twitching, her good leg shifting and pushing against the bed, making her unbalanced.
"Minerva, stop, I…ah!" She gasped and arched her back, pressing herself despite her words as Minerva ceased nibbling her neck. Oh no. Minerva was kissing along her collar bone, adding a tiny kiss and a tiny bite each step, leaving dimples and red spots on that pale, pale, pale skin of her's. She came closer and closer to her breasts as Petunia's words grew more desperate, and her body language became more emphatic. Her spine arched, presenting her tits to Minerva's questing mouth as a soft litany escaped her lips: "Please, I'm not a lesbian, I…oh Minerva, please, oh…"
Minerva sucked greedily on one nipple, then the other, then went back again, leaving both glistening and aching with eagerness. Her hand pushed down, revealing the wild, downy thatch of blond pubic hair that curled above her dripping sex. And dripping was no exaggeration - Minerva didn't think that she had ever seen a girl quite so aroused before. Her tongue darted along her lips as her fingers brushed through the golden curls. Her lips twitched in an eager grin. "You are quite sure you're not a lesbian?"
"This is wrong," Petunia whispered, turning her head aside.
"Do you want me to stop?" Minerva's fingers teased through that hair, coming closer and closer to the cleft of Petunia's sex.
"...no…" Petunia whispered.
"What was that?" Minerva crooned. "I swore you said this was wrong. That you were no lesbian."
"I-..." Petunia squirmed. "Minerva, you've changed!"
Minerva grinned. "Have I?" She leaned forward. Her voice was a soft whisper. "I never even let myself dream of this. Of you." Her fingers slipped. Crooked. The folds of Petunia's sex parted for her as eagerly as and as smoothly as the petals of a flower. "But oh deep down, buried as far as I could force it, I've wanted this since I ever met you, my Petunia." Her fingers plunged deeper and Petunia clung to her with her arms, her body trembling as she held onto Minerva as if she were a life preserver in a storm tossed sea. Minerva nibbled her ear, then whispered into it. "I am a dyke, Petunia. And so are you."
"Oh Minerva!" Petunia gasped, unable to keep it in any more. Her fingernails dug against Minerva's back, squeezing her as Minerva's fingers began to work within her. And oh, oh, oh, how did Minerva thank Professor Melissa Stevenson for her…education. She shifted her grip. Added a finger. And thus, she did provoke a most impressive moan: "Minnie!"
Minerva drew her fingers forth. She admired just how slippery they were. Her grin was wicked. "Oh I am going to do dreadful things to you, Petunia."
"A-Are you?" Petunia sounded dazed, her cheeks flushed. She squeaked as Minerva man…well, womanhandled her around in the bed. Soon, Petunia's thighs were spread, her withered leg propped up on a pillow, her good leg lifted up, crooked against Minerva's shoulder. Minerva, not having time to waste, had simply flicked her wand and Kemb'd her clothes off her body, leaving herself nude and oh so very eager. She crooked her thighs.
"A friend told me about this," Minerva said.
"H-How many lesbians in that school?" Petunia asked, her eyes widening as she crooked her head up, watching as MInerva slid her own sex, dripping with arousal, against the inside of her thighs.
"Not as many as I'd like," Minerva purred.
"Good hea-ah…ah-vens!" Petunia's head rolled back as Minerva bucked her hips and their sexes pressed together. Minerva groaned as she felt warmth and wetness intermingling. The pressure made her bite her lip hard. She started to rock her hips and with every motion, her pussy and Petunia's pussy slipped against one another. Their clits bumped together. Their bodies intermingled and their moans twined together as Petunia allowed herself to groan in eagerness. Minerva, her head buzzing with pleasure, realized her mistake. She hastily grabbed her wand, whispering and flicking it.
Soundproofing magic flared around the room.
That done, she grabbed onto both of Petunia's hips. Thanks to her polio induced injury, Petunia could not quite buck back. That was fine. That was more than fine. Minerva leaned in and channeled her inner Professor Stevenson. She began to rock her hips into Petunia, squeaking the bed beneath her as sweat beaded and dripped along her body, the stifling heat of the room and the harsh electric lights only making the sensation of body grinding against body feel more intense, more forbidden, more perfect. Petunia's back arched as she cried out. "Minerva! Minerva! Oh Minerva! Oh…I…" She clapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks burning. She tried to keep herself quiet.
So.
Minerva fucked her harder.
The bed was squealing loudly now and Petunia's cheeks burned, but she couldn't stop it. Her hand released her mouth, her other hand gripping to the headboard - joined by one of Minerva's, using them as a brace as Minerva leaned over, her breasts swaying above Petunia. She leaned her head forward, panting softly. "Cum for me, my little flower, yes, cum for me."
"Minerva!"
Minerva leaned in and felt her orgasm - her orgasms, really - mingling with Petunia's. They rode higher and crested, and then crested again, and then again, as sweat beaded, and dripped, and hands clenched and caressed as easily as winking. Their bodies fit together perfectly.
For that time, in the bed, Petunia's crutch felt a million miles away.
And slowly…
Slowly…
They started to wind down. Minerva laid beside Petunia, her body glistening, her muscles aching, her thighs tingling. She felt sore, and she felt throbbing points where Petunia, driven wild, had left small kisses and bites along her skin: Her nipples, in particular, had been her lustful target. Meanwhile, Petunia was beginning to look as if she had been ravaged by a swarm of mosquitos, Minerva had left so many red marks on her. Minerva's cheeks flushed. "Ah…s-sorry about…" She trailed off.
"Ravaging me?" Petunia asked, her voice dazed.
"Well, no, the, ah, love bites," Minerva said, grinning lopsidedly.
Petunia chuckled. "Why don't you add some-"
"W-We can't! I…it's not right!" Petunia said. Minerva cupped the small of her back with one hand, drawing her close, leaning in. Her lips found Petunia's neck as the girl whispered. "We're both girls, and…oh…" She groaned as Minerva used her teeth, teasing along her skin. Her left hand squeezed Petunia's rump. Petunia's eyes fluttered half shut, her head rolling to the back and the side, exposing more of her neck. Minerva flashed onto the mental image of Harry and Robert, the vampire's fangs driving deep, and her imagination coiled around. The Enrage, lurking beneath the foundations of Hexgramatica, enfolding her in her arms…except now, she was the one, the seductive darkness calling from the shadows…
And as she sucked, gently, on Petunia's peach perfect skin, tasting her delicious silkness, she felt Petunia respond. Through her thin nightclothes, she could feel her eager hard nipples. She could scent her gathering excitement. She could hear her mewling softly. "Minerva, this is ungodly!"
Minerva tugged up her top. Petunia lifted her arms, blushing.
"Please, do stop," Petunia whispered.
"I think I shall not," Minerva said, tossing her bedclothes away. Under the harsh glow of the electric light in the room, Petunia's were as perfect as she had ever imagined. Mienrva cupped both with her hands, squeezing them. Petunia was a petite woman. Her tits filled her palms most delightfully and her fingers found those rosy nipples, tugging them gently. Gently. Petunia ducked her head forward, her withered leg twitching, her good leg shifting and pushing against the bed, making her unbalanced.
"Minerva, stop, I…ah!" She gasped and arched her back, pressing herself despite her words as Minerva ceased nibbling her neck. Oh no. Minerva was kissing along her collar bone, adding a tiny kiss and a tiny bite each step, leaving dimples and red spots on that pale, pale, pale skin of her's. She came closer and closer to her breasts as Petunia's words grew more desperate, and her body language became more emphatic. Her spine arched, presenting her tits to Minerva's questing mouth as a soft litany escaped her lips: "Please, I'm not a lesbian, I…oh Minerva, please, oh…"
Minerva sucked greedily on one nipple, then the other, then went back again, leaving both glistening and aching with eagerness. Her hand pushed down, revealing the wild, downy thatch of blond pubic hair that curled above her dripping sex. And dripping was no exaggeration - Minerva didn't think that she had ever seen a girl quite so aroused before. Her tongue darted along her lips as her fingers brushed through the golden curls. Her lips twitched in an eager grin. "You are quite sure you're not a lesbian?"
"This is wrong," Petunia whispered, turning her head aside.
"Do you want me to stop?" Minerva's fingers teased through that hair, coming closer and closer to the cleft of Petunia's sex.
"...no…" Petunia whispered.
"What was that?" Minerva crooned. "I swore you said this was wrong. That you were no lesbian."
"I-..." Petunia squirmed. "Minerva, you've changed!"
Minerva grinned. "Have I?" She leaned forward. Her voice was a soft whisper. "I never even let myself dream of this. Of you." Her fingers slipped. Crooked. The folds of Petunia's sex parted for her as eagerly as and as smoothly as the petals of a flower. "But oh deep down, buried as far as I could force it, I've wanted this since I ever met you, my Petunia." Her fingers plunged deeper and Petunia clung to her with her arms, her body trembling as she held onto Minerva as if she were a life preserver in a storm tossed sea. Minerva nibbled her ear, then whispered into it. "I am a dyke, Petunia. And so are you."
"Oh Minerva!" Petunia gasped, unable to keep it in any more. Her fingernails dug against Minerva's back, squeezing her as Minerva's fingers began to work within her. And oh, oh, oh, how did Minerva thank Professor Melissa Stevenson for her…education. She shifted her grip. Added a finger. And thus, she did provoke a most impressive moan: "Minnie!"
Minerva drew her fingers forth. She admired just how slippery they were. Her grin was wicked. "Oh I am going to do dreadful things to you, Petunia."
"A-Are you?" Petunia sounded dazed, her cheeks flushed. She squeaked as Minerva man…well, womanhandled her around in the bed. Soon, Petunia's thighs were spread, her withered leg propped up on a pillow, her good leg lifted up, crooked against Minerva's shoulder. Minerva, not having time to waste, had simply flicked her wand and Kemb'd her clothes off her body, leaving herself nude and oh so very eager. She crooked her thighs.
"A friend told me about this," Minerva said.
"H-How many lesbians in that school?" Petunia asked, her eyes widening as she crooked her head up, watching as MInerva slid her own sex, dripping with arousal, against the inside of her thighs.
"Not as many as I'd like," Minerva purred.
"Good hea-ah…ah-vens!" Petunia's head rolled back as Minerva bucked her hips and their sexes pressed together. Minerva groaned as she felt warmth and wetness intermingling. The pressure made her bite her lip hard. She started to rock her hips and with every motion, her pussy and Petunia's pussy slipped against one another. Their clits bumped together. Their bodies intermingled and their moans twined together as Petunia allowed herself to groan in eagerness. Minerva, her head buzzing with pleasure, realized her mistake. She hastily grabbed her wand, whispering and flicking it.
Soundproofing magic flared around the room.
That done, she grabbed onto both of Petunia's hips. Thanks to her polio induced injury, Petunia could not quite buck back. That was fine. That was more than fine. Minerva leaned in and channeled her inner Professor Stevenson. She began to rock her hips into Petunia, squeaking the bed beneath her as sweat beaded and dripped along her body, the stifling heat of the room and the harsh electric lights only making the sensation of body grinding against body feel more intense, more forbidden, more perfect. Petunia's back arched as she cried out. "Minerva! Minerva! Oh Minerva! Oh…I…" She clapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks burning. She tried to keep herself quiet.
So.
Minerva fucked her harder.
The bed was squealing loudly now and Petunia's cheeks burned, but she couldn't stop it. Her hand released her mouth, her other hand gripping to the headboard - joined by one of Minerva's, using them as a brace as Minerva leaned over, her breasts swaying above Petunia. She leaned her head forward, panting softly. "Cum for me, my little flower, yes, cum for me."
"Minerva!"
Minerva leaned in and felt her orgasm - her orgasms, really - mingling with Petunia's. They rode higher and crested, and then crested again, and then again, as sweat beaded, and dripped, and hands clenched and caressed as easily as winking. Their bodies fit together perfectly.
For that time, in the bed, Petunia's crutch felt a million miles away.
And slowly…
Slowly…
They started to wind down. Minerva laid beside Petunia, her body glistening, her muscles aching, her thighs tingling. She felt sore, and she felt throbbing points where Petunia, driven wild, had left small kisses and bites along her skin: Her nipples, in particular, had been her lustful target. Meanwhile, Petunia was beginning to look as if she had been ravaged by a swarm of mosquitos, Minerva had left so many red marks on her. Minerva's cheeks flushed. "Ah…s-sorry about…" She trailed off.
"Ravaging me?" Petunia asked, her voice dazed.
"Well, no, the, ah, love bites," Minerva said, grinning lopsidedly.
Petunia chuckled. "Why don't you add some-"
The room jolted. Minerva jerked.
Her eyes blinked open as her desk shook her from side to side and she blinked sleep out of her eyes, her brain feeling as if she had been quite short circuited. She blinked a few more times and whispered. "Oy vey!" She put her palm over her face.
A dream.
That had been a dream.
"Oh I'm just…I'm…" She grumbled to herself.
And then her desk shook her again and jiggled. "What are you doing, you absurd thing, I'm up!"
"Good lord, what kind of a broom is that!?"
Minerva almost screamed. Her face was bright red as she jerked her head up-
Then froze.
"Why that's almost exactly like- bloody hell, Minerva Schross-Scableknight!?" Captain C. C DuVaule-Cordwine exclaimed as he ducked his broom forward a touch to come level with her. "What above God's green earth are you doing here!?"
Minerva, too dislocated by her wakening, too wrong footed by her utterly absurd and obscene dream, gaped stupidly at the Captain. "What are you doing here?" popped out of her mouth.
"Well! I could ask the same!" Captain Cordwine used his most impressive attribute - his large and cleft chin - to the best of his ability, sticking it out like a bullfrog as he lifted his head. "I happen to be on a vital mission for the War Ministry - you've heard on the Wireless, those blasted Reds have decided to toss the world into the fireplace just on a lark. Well, the ministry needs to decide what to do about it - and that meant calling back all their best officers, and I don't mind saying, I'm one of them. Only the best for Hexgramatica and all that. Now…" He leaned in, looking right at her. "If I ask you, will you be having a permission from the Headmaster?"
Minerva blushed. "No…" She admitted, as she knew that any attempt to lie would be found out fast as winking. "I just had to talk to a friend of mine - about all this."
"Ah, say no more!" Captain Cordwine said. "I expect everyone's running in a tizzy about all this. Sides, the best pilots know when to take initiative, show some proper dash." He paused. "Well, unless they're mundane chaps, I suppose, those poor blighters were all firing line this, massed firepower that." He clicked his tongue. "Not a spot of adventure in the lot of them by the end there. Not that I could blame them."
Minerva felt a flare of hope. "S-So…"
"So I don't believe I noticed anything in my flight to the Ministry myself," Captain Cordwine said, beaming at her and giving her a big wink. "Though, you know, if I were to happen to spy you on my way back, and you maybe followed me home, well, I won't say I've been struck blind…"
"T-Thank you, sir!" Minerva said - she had been a little leery about finding her way back home. She had several spells in mind that could have made it easier, but having the navigational aid of an expert flier would be far better. She bit her lip, then skimmed her desk closer to his broom. "W-Why are you being so, um, helpful, sir?"
Captain Cordwine grinned at her. "Why, you're the most impressive flier I've seen in all my days. Not in the technicalities, no, but in the imagination. Your broom is so ruddy impressive, I've sent five letters to the War Ministry - four maxims on a broom, can you imagine it?" He looked distant, as if he was already imagining enemy wizards going down in droves. "Just need to knock it through their thick heads. Won't help if the wizard who pioneered it got kicked out on her tail, what?"
Minerva chuckled. "Thank you, Captain."
"Think nothing of it. I'll be in this quadrant of London this time tomorrow. Keep an eye out! Comfort the young sir - I am, ahem, assuming he is handsome as well as in need of a kind word?" His eyes sparkled.
Minerva tried to not choke. "Sir!"
Captain Cordwine laughed and flew away - soaring towards the heart of London.
***
Minerva flew down towards Petunia's rooms and had to admit, she was a little cross at herself. Petunia is depending on you to heal her. And here you are, thinking of…of holding that healing above her head and just making her dance to your tune like some kind of…of…of molesting brute!
The fact that if someone had done the opposite to her, a part of Minerva would have rather enjoyed it, only made her feel more deeply chagrined. She shook her head as her desk slowed and slowed, coming to Petunia's room. It was late in the evening, so she expected Petunia to be abed, and when she peeked into the window, she saw nothing but darkness. She warred with the guilt of waking her dear friend when a faint sound squeaked through the window. Minerva craned her head, narrowed her eyes and…gaped in shock.
Petunia was laying upon her back, with one leg thrown up, the other tucked to the side, beneath her blankets…and her body was entirely nude and…oh…
Minerva's eyes widened more as she saw that her Petunia, the very girl she was imagining earlier, was being taken. That was the only phrase for it, she was being taken in a quite manly fashion by…well…a man! Minerva didn't recognize him, but that wasn't entirely surprising: He was black. Which did mean that he was none of the regulars at their favorite pub or any of her coworkers or any of the other residents in the building, something that Minerva felt obscurely relieved about.
After all, some mysterious new man was better than Petunia settling.
Petunia is taken in a manly fashion!
The man was quite a picture, for a man. Minerva knew she was increasingly doomed when it came to evaluating masculine aesthetics, at least from a female perspective, but she noted his broad muscular shoulders, his head dusted by thick, silvery knots of hair that Petunia was gripping too most eagerly, drawing his head down to her perky, perky breasts. Minerva licked her lips as Petunia's moan escaped through the window.
Good heavens.
She looked as if she was having a lot of fun. She watched as the black man paused in his bucking and thrusting to shift his position - no, to shift Petunia's position with one palm. His lips moved, not quite loud enough to reach through the window. Petunia, her cheeks flushing, nodded and then smiled dazzlingly at him. Her lips formed words and Minerva was able to piece together: Yes, quite comfortable.
"Well, good," Minerva whispered softly. He wasn't just not someone to settle for, he was also taking good care of- oh! Her eyebrows went up as his thrusting resumed and she could see, just barely, the edge of a condom was visible. So, not only was he not someone to settle for, he was also taking good care of her in every-
Minerva put her hand over her mouth as, with one hand on Petunia's leg, the other reached down to rub her clit as his hips drove into her faster.
"Well, I must commend her for her taste, I suppose!" Minerva whispered.
The black man continued to buck his hips and Petunia shifted, thrusting back as best as she could, with one leg kicking up above his shoulder. The delightful sight of her toes curling up as her back arched and she twitched her arms above her head burned into Minerva's eyes as she saw that both of them were reaching their pleasure, the man trembling with an intensive focus that made her bit her lower lip. While she was sure that she was not interested in men - at least, not without a Love Potion - she could at least appreciate the joy he was bringing Petunia.
And…
Oddly?
As Minerva touched her own feeling with a probing thought, rather in the same way one might touch an abscessed tooth that was rotting in the jaw, she found that she was, to her surprise, not jealous. She would have expected that she'd be quite jealous. But…lewd dreams notwithstanding, Petunia was a friend.
You don't own friends.
Good heavens.
She looked as if she was having a lot of fun. She watched as the black man paused in his bucking and thrusting to shift his position - no, to shift Petunia's position with one palm. His lips moved, not quite loud enough to reach through the window. Petunia, her cheeks flushing, nodded and then smiled dazzlingly at him. Her lips formed words and Minerva was able to piece together: Yes, quite comfortable.
"Well, good," Minerva whispered softly. He wasn't just not someone to settle for, he was also taking good care of- oh! Her eyebrows went up as his thrusting resumed and she could see, just barely, the edge of a condom was visible. So, not only was he not someone to settle for, he was also taking good care of her in every-
Minerva put her hand over her mouth as, with one hand on Petunia's leg, the other reached down to rub her clit as his hips drove into her faster.
"Well, I must commend her for her taste, I suppose!" Minerva whispered.
The black man continued to buck his hips and Petunia shifted, thrusting back as best as she could, with one leg kicking up above his shoulder. The delightful sight of her toes curling up as her back arched and she twitched her arms above her head burned into Minerva's eyes as she saw that both of them were reaching their pleasure, the man trembling with an intensive focus that made her bit her lower lip. While she was sure that she was not interested in men - at least, not without a Love Potion - she could at least appreciate the joy he was bringing Petunia.
And…
Oddly?
As Minerva touched her own feeling with a probing thought, rather in the same way one might touch an abscessed tooth that was rotting in the jaw, she found that she was, to her surprise, not jealous. She would have expected that she'd be quite jealous. But…lewd dreams notwithstanding, Petunia was a friend.
You don't own friends.
The man withdrew from Petunia. He peeled off his condom and Minerva risked touching her wand to the window and whispering a soft kemb spell, opening the smallest hole so that she could put her ear to it.
"I keep saying, you shouldn't have to stay here, darling," he said, his voice sparking within Minerva…a sudden realization.
She knew this man.
She gaped. How did she know this man?
She had heard his voice before, but…
"It can't be," she whispered, while Petunia laughed.
"Gregory, please! I still owe a month's rent-"
"Which I can pay!" Gregory Klamath Utah Smith, Great War veteran, widower, American, and all around adventurer and remarkable fellow said as he stretched one arm up behind his back, cricking his neck to the side. This caused his impressive musculature to rippled most alarmingly beneath his sky dark skin.
"Aren't you Americans always the ones saying to never a borrower or lender be?" Petunia asked. "Franklyn, right?"
Gregory was still, then chuckled, his teeth flashing in the darkness. "Shakespeare."
"Oh," Petunia colored.
Gregory slid into the bed. But before he could speak, Petunia leaned her head against his shoulder, her voice soft. "A-And there is the fact your in-laws are still trying to claw poor Francine's savings out of your hands. And after she left it all to you!" She shook her head. "I'm sure they could use this as some kind of an excuse. It's not like I am the most becoming of choice for a woman for you…" Her hand twitched, tugging her blanket slightly over her thigh.
"Oh my little flower," Gregory said, leaning in. The kiss was intimate and reminded Mineva quite a lot of some of the kisses she had stolen with Kat. She felt rather low for stealing this glimpse into what was so private. She drew her head back, while the kiss continued - and then Petunia's voice carried through the hole she had made.
"Go. Go on. Get out before someone wakes up and sees…"
"We shall flee to France next time," Gregory said, standing. There was another soft kiss. The door opened, then closed once more. Minerva peeked back in and saw Petunia putting her fingers to her lips, before flinging herself back into the bed, her arms spreading wide.
"Bother," she whispered.
Minerva gulped, then lifted her hand and rapped gently on the window. Petunia lifted her head and she and Minerva both met one another's eyes. Petunia's eyes went wide. She opened her mouth. Then she hastily grabbed her blanket and yanked it over herself. She scrambled to her feet, using the wall, then her crutch to hobble over to the window. SHe stood there, barely clad, her hand grabbing onto the sheets she had draped around herself, and watched as Minerva took hold of the window (it did help that she had sculpted a hole into it) and pulled up. Once it had risen out of the way, Minerva smiled.
"Good evening, Petunia," she said.
"What are you doing here!?" Petunia whispered.
"I, uh, I came to visit you!" Minerva said, then shivered as the wind blew past her. "Can I come in?"
Petunia shook her head slowly, then laughed, a ragged, weary, confused laugh. But still a laugh. "Yes! Yes you can come in. Just let me dress." She hobbled away from the window and Minerva began to work through the steps of getting off the desk, the desk into her pockets, and her in the room all without dropping straight down several stories to her death. As the window slid shut and she quietly whispered a soft kemb spell to reforge the hole shut, Petunia sat on the bed and flicked on the lights, her nightclothes concealing her nudity, her crutch leaning against the wall.
"So, uh…" Minerva snapped her fingers and clapped them against her palm. "How did you meet Gregory Klamth Utah Smith?"
"You know him?" Petunia asked.
"After a fashion," Minerva said. "My friend Gina bewitched him to drive us to Waterloo Station. He had a rather nobby autocar, if I remember right."
"...interesting…" Petunia said. "See, he came around my corner and, well, out of the blue, he asked me if I happened to know a lady named Minerva. Well, of course, I did, and as he's not exactly the kind of person to be running with Mosely's goons." Minerva smiled dryly at that. "So, we got to talking. He wasn't entirely sure why he was looking for you - he admitted, he was mostly just driving to take his mind off things, and…well, I asked him what things and heard this awful story about his harridan of a sister in law and those hideous brothers in law of him, absolute wretched people. So, we got to talking more, and he offered to buy a matchbox…"
"And one thing led to another?" Minerva asked, her smile playful.
Petunia's cheeks flushed. "He's very dignified!" she said, her own voice weighted with intense dignity. "And…"
"Older?" Minerva teased yet more.
"Handsome! Besides, forty isn't old…" Petunia's voice dripped into a soft mutter mutter there. "Not old at all."
"WEll, I'm no one to judge," Minerva said. She took her seat and frowned. "Though…I suppose I should bring your thanks to Gina. Do you care for this man?" At Petunia's blush and squirm and wriggle, she smiled. "Do you care for him quite a lot?" Petunia stuck her tongue out at her, which was more than enough answer. "Then I'll have to thank Gina. Mind magic, ah, it seems can have a long term effect. Most people dismiss it as deja vu, but, well, he is quite a strong willed man. So, he sought me out and found you…" She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing. "You've heard on the wireless?"
"That is why he came here," Petunia admitted. "He has to visit late at night, people would talk otherwise."
"Ah, just to talk politics?" Minerva asked, teasing her friend.
"Y-you must think I'm quite a…a…that i'm some kind of…" Petunia groped for words. Minerva slid her arm around her shoulder, drawing her close.
"I have nothing to brag of," she said, nodding. "Let me tell you my story."
She had been afraid of baring every little thing she'd done to Petunia - but, well, after having seen what Petunia had been up to, she wasn't afraid anymore. She told every detail, and Petunia listened and nodded and gasped, then slapped Minerva's shoulder.
"A werewolf!?" She exclaimed. "A werewolf transvestite?"
"She's more of a…the word she used, uh, was transexual, I think!" Minerva said, a bit at sea at how best to describe Kat.
"I've never even heard of a transexual," Petunia said, frowning.
"It's German," Minerva said, smiling at her. Stevenson and Titania's names tingled on the tip of her tongue as Petunia turned that frown on her. Minerva's bravery fled. "T-Then, uh, the, uh, the Soviet Union news broke and I came right over."
Petunia leaned back on her palms. Her good leg kicked gently at the air, swaying.
"What does…all this mean?" she asked.
Minerva bit her lip. "Well…it means that the world is changing. It means…we may not need be secret in this new world. It may mean that I can do more than just heal your leg! And, uh, I will have to apologize to Mr. Smith about the ensorcelling, if he hasn't figured it out yet. But yes, you have to meet my girls, and I have to meet your boy!"
Petunia nodded.
Then her brow furrowed.
"Wait, did you say girls?" Her eyes narrowed.
Minerva squirmed. She kicked herself for three times a fool.
"...ahem, several, actually," Minerva said, blushing and rubbing the nape of her neck, her eyes closing as she smiled sheepishly.
"My best friend has become a harlot!" Petunia exclaimed.
"Oh you!" Minerva grabbed onto Petunia's arm, tugging her close. "You're Miss I'm Sleeping with a man old enough to be her-"
"He's not old enough to be anything of the sort!" Petunia squeaked out before Minerva could utter the word Daddy.
"Well, I suppose I'm not one to talk…"
"Oh? Who was this?" Her eyes narrowed.
"Stevenson, er, uh, Melissa," Minerva said, her cheeks darkening.
Petunia narrowed her eyes even more. Minerva squirmed.
"Professor Melissa Stevenson," she whispered.
"Minerva, you minx!"
"In my defense, it has been quite educational," Minerva said, smiling wickedly. She forced her hand away from Petunia's thigh - she was not going to grope her friend. Even if her friend was making it exceedingly difficult to not just…to not just…she forced her mind back on track, and as she did so, something clicked into place. "Wait, you're not shocked that I'm a lesbian?" She asked, blinking slowly.
"That?" Petunia asked. "Lord, I knew that since we met, I'm long over my little panic about it. It's exceedingly obvious."
Minerva's head jerked upright. "You what?" she asked.
"Please, my sisters went to a proper boarding school, they had stories. Now…" Petunia paused. "I must ask, have you figured out… well, can you heal my leg?"
Minerva's amusement and offense vanished into smoke. She sighed.
"Not…I…that is, there…" Minerva groped for words. "I'm still working on my magics. I will learn to heal your leg. It's just more complicated than I expected and, ah, well, if you fail in casting your healing magics, it tends to cause rather nasty cancers." She winced at the idea. "But I…I just…I wanted to visit…"
"Oh so you claim!" Petunia's eyes opened to narrowed slits - and Minerva relaxed as she saw Petunia's glittering warmth in them. "Maybe you heard I'm dating a very wealthy man and wanted to borrow some money."
"Likely!" Minerva laughed. Petunia laughed back, then leaned against her. Minerva badly wished to whisk her away. She could see that Petunia couldn't stay with Mr. Smith, no matter how badly they both wanted it. And she could also see that Petunia here was…running quite a few dangerous risks. An unwed woman, laying with a black man in London? While it was not as suicidal as, say, the American South, it wasn't exactly a healthy long term way to survive.
It occurred to Minerva, somewhat bitterly, that Petunia probably knew that already, and figured it wouldn't much affect her longevity one way or another.
If only…
If…
Only.
Minerva cocked her head as a remarkable idea occurred to her.
"Petunia, how would you like to live among goblins for a time?" She asked, quietly.
Petunia cocked her head around. "W-What?"
"I can bring you with me. You…will have to be shrunk for the trip and hide in my pocket until I can sneak you into the village beside Hexgramatica, and then I can pay for you to have a room - you can pretend to be a wizard fairly easily, I…that could work," Minerva said, excitedly. Petunia gaped at her, sitting up.
"You can't be serious!" she said.
"Why not?" Minerva asked. "You're in an untenable position - as much as you may care for Mr. Smith, if either of you were found out, it'd be the end of you. And you can't live with him, and even if he wants you to go to him…"
"I can't just run out on him," Petunia said, horrified.
"Then we shall invite him too!" Minerva said, nodding sagely. "I can fit you both in my pockets. And…and we need mundane allies too. And if anyone is suited to taking on a wizard, it would be a Great War veteran." She lifted her chin, slightly. "Those awful Ars Magicka people I mentioned? They're going to go completely mad with the Masquerade being torn down." She smiled. "And I wager he'd be happy to see the back end of his relatives for a time."
Petunia stammered. "But…but that can't be legal, I'm sure they don't let us non-magical types into your school. A-And what about my job?"
"Damn the law and damn your job!" Minerva grabbed both of her hands, squeezing her. "Petunia, I want to whisk you away from all of this. You can't say you'd rather make bloody matchboxes rather than that!"
Petunia opened her mouth. She closed it. She looked aside.
"All I want is to stand on my own two legs…"
Minerva squeezed both of her hands with her left, her right cupping Petunia's cheek. "It is not weakness to accept help, Petunia. It's the greatest strength of them all, sometimes." She leaned in. "Please. I can't bear you staying in this awful place, working that hideous job, and…and…" She blushed. "And being so far from me."
Petunia blushed. She looked aside. She considered. "Will I like this Kat?" she asked, quietly.
The sudden and vivid image of a bed bound Petunia, her thighs spread, while Kat plowed into her with her impressive girlcock, the young mundane girl unable to even resist her overwhelming feminine strength, and unwilling to even try, exploded through Minerva's head. She was sure it'd be utterly impossible, Petunia seemed straight as an arrow and hooked on a man.
It didn't stop her brain, though.
"...will I?" Petunia asked.
"Yes, quite! And I think Kat would like Mr. Smith," she said, nodding.
Petunia frowned. "Very well. I…does this spell require some…some ritual or something?"
"Not in the slightest," Minerva said. She stood and stretched, her back popping. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Petunia taking in her nude form and saw the attentive gleam in those blue eyes. That little excited spark was enough to make Minerva feel like ten Professor Stevenson's at once. She grinned, then held up her wand, snatching it from the floor where it had rolled. Her stomach growled - she had been casting without food for a while - but she supposed she was good for one more spell. She aimed, then flicked. "Kemb Subtrahe Miċelnes Wif!"
Petunia glowed and Minerva felt her head wobble slightly - she had rarely cast a spell with four words, and she felt the extra tug of energy. She kept her focus as Petunia shrunk and shrunk and shrunk, until she was the size of a pencil at best. Her voice squeaked, tiny and high pitched. "Oh lord!"
"See?" Minerva said, starting to dress with a grin. "Now, you fit into my pocket."
Petunia's voice squeaked: "But what about my clothes? My crutch? My stuff?"
Minerva glanced around. "I think I can pack most of this in the desk." She smiled. "Imagine if I had a proper broom, eh?"
"I'd rather not!" Petunia squeaked.
They flew from the building as Petunia stuck her head from Minerva's pocket. "His house is this way," she said.
Minerva nodded as they soared over London, and towards the townhouse home of Mr. Smith. They came down towards the front window, and Minerva glanced at the city skies. She knew that they only had a limited amount of time to get this done before Captain Cordwine would be back at the position he had offered her. So, she-
She swung her head around and found herself nose to barrel with what appeared to be a quite deadly looking bolt action rifle, held in the steady hands of one Gregory Klamath Utah Smith. He frowned, intently.
"So," he said. "You are a witch."
Minerva raised her hands and smiled.
"Hello, Gregory!" Petunia chirruped, lifting her head and arm from Minerva's pocket.
samdamandias
Apprentice Plane Wizard
Can't tell if this is Gina asking how Selene is like this, or if this is Gina going "How are you this bad at this?"
I diagnose Minerva with Cute Girl syndrome. Instead of brain, there is cute girl.
Poor chaps had to make sure they got one of the planes that worked. Not like that's an issue with a broom though, one hopes.
- Location
- United Kingdom
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Captain Cordwine would be so hot in such a dumb way if she were a girl.
other than that: great update! i liked it.
other than that: great update! i liked it.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Don't give my coauthor's ideas!!!
ThatGazzer
Minds Eye Bind
- Location
- PNW
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Captain Cordwine...an Egg in the British Air Force? It's Impossible!
Unless,,,,
nachtingale
20. On that "honk, mimimi" type beat everyday.
- Location
- Malaysia
- Pronouns
- He/They
- Location
- Ottawa
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Whatever
is book 2 minerva's quest to get dommed by girl stalin? i cannot say
- Location
- Lake Wobegon
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Minerva Golding and the Iron Lady?
- Pronouns
- He/They/She
So far this whole series is Minerva Golding's quest to get dommed, period.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
- Location
- New York
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Nonsense; Minerva's clearly a switch, her domme is just too much for most women.
- Location
- Here
An odd thought - back near the start, Minerva was quite fine ordering a pastrami sandwich alongside coffee with cream, a decidedly non-kosher combination. While it's true that different people will have different levels of observance, my impression growing up was that "no pork, no milk with meat, no shellfish" was the usual reduction of Kashrut between full observance and dropping it entirely?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
There's always the possibility that I, the author, done fucked up. Like, not only am I not jewish, I'm also hilariously bad at food because I'm super super picky so I eat only like...10 different meals.
- Location
- Ottawa
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Whatever
my bad, as the researcher im supposed to spot this stuff.
bookwyrm
Doom of Public Libraries
- Location
- Wichita, Kansas
Honestly the Masquerade in this universe seemed already approaching its final moments, what with Minerva being allowed inside the doors of Hexgramatica at all. And it didn't seem like much of a Masquerade in the first place, what with Wizardkind 'isolating' itself from the mundane world... at about the same time the British Empire was becoming a thing and starting snowballing into like a whole world system with the rest of the colonial powers, just coincidentally doing mundane colonialism at the same time the Wizarding World systematically bound and enslaved all the Fae and did an arcane wizardy version of like the Clearances of the commons and the dissolution of Scotland and Ireland into the English-led UK with the gradual squeezing out of witches and half-goblin wizards and the like.
Frankly, it seems like for the Wizarding ministries and orders to get everything exactly where they wanted it with like no indigenous magical societies free to continue practicing openly and alerting mundane Britain to the Masquerade, they would have to be basically coterminous with the mundane British Empire as its secret fifth estate, colonial gunboat diplomacy "treaties" having invisible lunar runes on the back decreeing Euro style isolation and the "protection" of British wizards over their benighted cousins in magic. So by this logic, from the very beginning the Masquerade was never complete and there were always ratlines maintaining continuity with the rest of the British Empire, and the Wizards were more like uh, the Jedi of colonial evil and pith helmets, with kinda the same relationship the post-Ruusan Jedi Knights had to the Old Republic. Up until the all the old school nobility of the British Empire basically destroyed themselves at the Somme, anyway.
Frankly, it seems like for the Wizarding ministries and orders to get everything exactly where they wanted it with like no indigenous magical societies free to continue practicing openly and alerting mundane Britain to the Masquerade, they would have to be basically coterminous with the mundane British Empire as its secret fifth estate, colonial gunboat diplomacy "treaties" having invisible lunar runes on the back decreeing Euro style isolation and the "protection" of British wizards over their benighted cousins in magic. So by this logic, from the very beginning the Masquerade was never complete and there were always ratlines maintaining continuity with the rest of the British Empire, and the Wizards were more like uh, the Jedi of colonial evil and pith helmets, with kinda the same relationship the post-Ruusan Jedi Knights had to the Old Republic. Up until the all the old school nobility of the British Empire basically destroyed themselves at the Somme, anyway.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him