A/N: Well, I'm taking on a new couple. I personally think that lesbian couples in the HP Fanfiction realm are overlooked far too often. This particular story features Rolanda Hooch and Minerva McGonnagal in their seventh year and will eventually extend to their adult lives and their careers at Hogwarts. In case you are wondering, "Rolanda" is Hooch's real first name. It's on her personality card in the HP card game.


Those Strange and Wonderful Kisses

The staff all said that there had never been such opposite students that resided in the same house. On one hand, there was the graceful and stern Minerva McGonagall – Head Girl yet still unpopular, impossibly organized and ridiculously prim. If she was not in the transfiguration classroom she was in the library, constantly with her nose in a book. Her polar opposite? Rolanda Hooch. Unanimously the most popular girl amongst all the houses, the most promising athlete Hogwarts had seen in centuries, and barely passing in all her classes. Yet, the two of them lived in the same dorm without hexing each other too badly, and somehow managed to coexist somewhat peacefully.

As it was, there had only been six Gryffindor girls in their year to begin with. Hogwarts' population had reduced by half, because most parents were educating their children at home due to the threat of Grindelwald looming over everyone. Headmaster Dippet, though a competent educator, was far from a trustworthy defender. In fact, parents were pulling their children out of his care so fast that Hufflepuff only had four seventh years total. Gryffindor, though it had the largest number of younger students, had few advanced children. Minerva and Rolanda were the last two seventh years left in the girl's dormitory. And it was a miracle they hadn't killed each other yet.

"For fuck's sake, Minerva! How the hell am I supposed to get to my bed?" Rolanda raged, her unusual (and beautiful) eyes taking in the piles of books that literally covered the floor. Minerva was in the middle of it all, sitting on her bed and flipping through pages like they scalded her fingers. She cringed, as she usually did, at her roommate's vulgar language. She had been raised in a proper pureblood family that was extremely well to do. She never cussed, and she certainly never raised her voice. Well, except around Hooch. The other girl could make her forget herself when she became completely outrageous in her behavior.

"I don't know, Rolanda. Why don't you use your big twig to get to your bed." She said in a sharp tone, indicating she did not want to be disturbed. Rolanda rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her wild, white spikes.

"It's called a broom, Minerva. Don't be bitter just because you can't stay on one to save your life." She replied distractedly, agilely avoiding the piles of books as she hopped to her bed. Rolanda was in complete contrast to the prude appearance of the girl studying on the bed beside her. Minerva had long, evenly cut black locks (she still had bangs at the age of seventeen), and plain brown eyes always hidden behind garish, square spectacles. Rolanda Hooch had an unnatural beauty that made you look twice at her to see if she was real. Her hair was so blonde it looked silver, suggesting she had Veela blood in her. Of course, you couldn't see much of her hair because she cut it all off in her third year. According to her, it got in the way when she played quidditch. Minerva had been shocked when she cut it. It had been waist long with a gentle curl to it, a gorgeous flow of silver and the envy of every girl. But, as she didn't have a vain bone in her body, she cut it all off one night – and it still looked great on her. It was so short it was spiky, but it made her look pixyish, and no one even thought to call it butch. Her eyes had once been a shocking, icy blue. But, that had been before Minerva transfigured her into a cat in their fifth year, and no matter what doctor they called, her eyes were permanently yellow and luminous. They had suggested she hide them with a spell, but Rolanda would hear none of it. She said she liked the cat eyes, because she could see ten times better than she could before and it apparently helped her quidditch game.

From her place on the bed, Rolanda yawned noisily. Agitatedly, Minerva flicked her eyes to see what her roommate was up to.

Nothing. Big surprise there. Well, not exactly nothing. Her quidditch robes, looking very wind flustered, were being removed unhurriedly. She sat against her headboard, tugging at the bindings in a bored manner, eventually sliding out of her outer robe and tossing it to the floor. As though she were alone, because Rolanda had no modesty what so ever, she tugged the Gryffindor sweater over her torso, revealing two firm, puckered breasts in a sturdy sports bra. Minerva's eyes fixed back on her texts as she fought down a blush. How many times had she chastised Rolanda for stripping down in front of her? It was unladylike and disgusting. She didn't want to see another girl naked.

Her eyes flickered back to the undressing form. She was now wiggling slowly out of the tight quidditch breeches, stopping to unlace her boots. As she bent over in the bed, Minerva got an eyeful of her perfect figure, toned and muscular in all the right places – the picture of womanly strength. She thought of her own stick figure, her tiny breasts and legs that were too long for her body. But at least she had a brain. That would get her farther than Hooch's good looks would ever get her.

The pants and boots were off now. She flopped back in bed, her tiny cotton panties arching over her shapely thighs like twin white rainbows. Her sports bra revealed the tops of her tanned breasts. Minerva idly wondered how she became tan all over. She eyed her own pale skin with distaste. She needed to focus on her studies. She had a cumulative potions exam tomorrow.

Speaking of which, "Aren't you going to study for the potions exam?" She asked tartly, refusing to look at the girl that was now sitting with her legs folded under her, revealing the tiny rectangular crotch of her panties as she shot Minerva a disbelieving look.

"Won't have time. Quidditch game against Slytherin tomorrow. I'll be out practicing tonight." She finally answered, flopping back onto her bed. Minerva felt the stirrings of a lecture coming on inside her.

"I could report you for that. You know it's not allowed." She bossed, her nose in the air. Rolanda rolled her eyes before pinning Minerva down with them. She began to tug off her sports bra. Minerva couldn't look away.

"I also know you won't tell." She almost had the bra entirely off, holding Minerva in those hypnotic eyes like a frog pinned to a dissecting tray, when she abruptly let the elastic slap against her skin. "Sorry," She said in a tone that suggested she wasn't, "I forgot that you're not comfortable with nudity." She said with a smirk at Minerva's look, one that was firmly fixed to Rolanda's bust. Then, with a smirk, "though you don't look too embarrassed." Minerva instantly went tomato red, stuttering with indignation as Rolanda slid off the bed and sauntered into the bathroom, bending over her truck and showing off her ass. She rummaged around until she found some plastic pants and a tank top. Minerva, absolutely livid with the accusation that had just been made, shouted through the bathroom door.

"Don't you dare leave those robes on the floor for me to pick up! I have more useful things to do with my time!" Minerva heard Rolanda's husky laughter on the other side of the door.

"I'll pick them up when those books are gone. Besides, I have more interesting people to do with my time." It was well known that Rolanda was not a virgin, though she certainly wasn't a slut. However, to Minerva, anyone who slept with someone else before they were married (and with other girls no less!) was a whore of the worst kind.

She'd probably be a virgin on the day she died.


Rolanda jogged through Hogwarts, broom hoisted onto her shoulder. Downstairs she met up with Damien, the game announcer and her biggest fan/friend.

"Well, did you ask her?" He questioned as she slowed her pace to walk with him, an irritable look on her pretty face.

"Bloody hell, Damien. I did everything short of lap dance for her. She doesn't need those spectacles, she's still blind as a bat." Rolanda vehemently exclaimed. Damien was the only one who knew of her long lasting crush on her roommate and (to the eyes of everyone else) sworn enemy.

"Come on, 'Londa, you know she's a prude. She might not even go for girls." He soothed. Rolanda rolled her eyes.

"She does. She just doesn't know it yet. Hopefully she'll figure it out before I attempt to put my tongue down her throat. I wouldn't put it past her to bite it off."

Damien laughed and they continued on towards the quidditch pitch for another few good hours of practice. Today was Saturday, and aside from her little show for Minerva, Rolanda spent it practicing from morning till dark.


It was midnight, and Minerva was sitting down in the Gryffindor common room. There was a book in her lap (when wasn't there?) but she was not reading it. Finally, the portrait swung open and the lithe figure of her roommate slunk in, broom hoisted over her shoulder. She didn't make a sound, and the common room was nearly pitch black, so she jumped in alarm when Minerva lit up her wand.

"This is ridiculous, Hooch. Three A.M.? I'm reporting you to Headmaster Dippet first thing in the morning." She preached, her hands on her hips and her eyebrows forked downwards in anger. Rolanda sighed, tossed her broom to the floor (carefully and reverently of course) and proceeded to close the distance between herself and the Head Girl. With no warning or indication of her intent, she firmly pulled Minerva against her and soundly kissed her.

Minerva remained stunned, her eyes wide in the dark as Rolanda's lips moved against hers. As if a light had been turned on, she pushed Rolanda away violently, sending her sprawling over a chair. There was a small moan when she fell, and forgetting what had just happened, Minerva rushed to her side. Rolanda's luminous eyes were glaring at her heatedly in the dark.

"Minerva." She growled warningly. The other witch bit on her lip nervously.

"Yes?" She hesitatingly responded.

"You broke my ankle." Was the low reply. Minerva gulped in fear of what she'd done. (She'd pushed a girl! That constituted a fight!) And she'd broken her ankle! But not just any ankle, the ankle attached to the girl that would need it for tomorrow's big game against Slytherin. If Rolanda didn't kill her, and the teachers didn't expel her, then the rest of the Gryffindor team would surely do it for them.

"I'm sorry! It's just you … you … and then …" She stuttered as Rolanda merely stared at her, beads of sweat on her forehead as she kept a calm face.

"Well?" She ground out. Minerva looked blank. "For fuck's sake Min! Get me to the hospital wing!" She bellowed finally, capturing the other girl's hand in a crushing embrace.

"Right! I don't know how I'm going to lift you down there though …" Minerva began, completely loosing her decorum and dignity. Rolanda rolled her eyes.

"Levitate me, you twit!" She intoned sharply, biting her lip in an effort not to cry. Minerva let out a muttered exclamation and fetched her wand from the coffee table. In a voice infused with years of practice, she effectively levitated her roommate.

Perhaps a bit too effectively. As a result of her nervous state, Rolanda was propelled into the ceiling as if she were sitting on top of a geyser. She let out a cry of pain before the spell was broken and she went crashing back to the floor. She still refused to cry, but she could not contain the long stream of incoherent moaning.

Minerva began to panic, but she made herself breathe deeply and focus on the spell. She used the spell again, sighing in relief when it yielded her the result she wanted. Hurriedly, she flung open the Fat Lady portrait and began tugging Rolanda through the air like a puppet with invisible strings. Her foot was hanging in an interesting angle, and her shoulder looked awkward as well.

Finally, they made it to the infirmary. Madam Violet, the antiquated nurse who never asked too many questions, shuffled into the infirmary in a robe and fuzzy slippers. The sight of Rolanda in such a state roused her into surprisingly quick action for her ninety something years. She sent Minerva back to her dorm, and began to work her magic.

Minerva could feel a horrible weight in the pit of her stomach. Worry overwhelmed her, nearly making her sick with its strength. And she felt guilty, too, and a nice bit of shame was mixed in as well.

And that kiss! Her first kiss …

It had been so strange and wonderful.

She paused at the doorway to the infirmary, watching as Rolanda arched her back in pain, gritting her teeth with amazingly dry eyes, taking the painful effects of Skele-Gro as if it were merely a cut that had just been doused in alcohol. Cleansing moonlight illuminated her goddess like features as she relaxed against the pillow, breathing hard with her fingers knotted in the sheets, chest heaving and long lashes fluttering closed. Minerva had the distinct feeling that she was watching something private, and she suddenly felt like she was committing a mortal sin.

As she walked into their moonlit room, she dazedly looked upon it as if she were seeing it for the first time. There was one messy bed, and one neat one. One half of the room looked like a library, the other half looked like a quidditch supply store. And then she did something that she had never done before.

As if she was walking on holy ground, she crossed the distinct boundary and sat on Rolanda's bed. The mattress was soft, as if made of water, completely unlike her firm one across the room. The pillows all smelled like sunshine and the outdoors, not musty and hinting of the leather binding on books as hers did.

Suddenly, as if realizing she was sitting on Rolanda's bed smelling her pillows, she shot up scalded and practically leaped into her bed. She slipped out of her robe and tossed it on a nearby chair, before closing her eyes and trying to block out the mess of emotions that were bouncing around like bludgers in her skull.

A/N: So, what did you guys think? Normally I don't ask for feedback, but as this is my first time posting something with this couple, I'd appreciate some reviews if you like the idea or have some criticism for me. It can only make my story better! I already have the next chapter finished, but I'm going to wait until I get your reactions before I post it.