Disclaimer: I work 74 hours a week, ya think J.K. does? No? Then I'm clearly not the owner of these characters or the setting.

A/N: This was a piece prompted by a challenge from GreyElla. It had to include Minerva McGonagall, be set in the Room of Requirement, include the phrase "The moon also rises" and I cannot remember the rest. This is what resulted. Enjoy.

The letter was overly simple. It was written in a non-descript print. She checked the handwriting against scores of different samples she had. It didn't match any letter, essay or other such correspondence in her possession. Due to that fact she was incredibly suspicious of the letter... but undeniably intrigued.

"Room of Requirement.10 p.m." Was all it read. Minerva wondered idly if it was Poppy attempting to rekindle a long-dead romance. The prospect was less than appealing. Minerva hated to go backward and revisiting that time in their lives couldn't be disguised as anything but a practice in taking a step back. Still, it had been a while since she did something as exciting as following directions from an anonymous letter. Whatever came of it probably wouldn't disappoint too much, solely based on the fact that it would break the monotony of her paper-grading, under-sexed daily life.

She decided to go.

As the hour handle on the clock in her office began to near 10, Minerva stood and slipped her long arms into the sleeves of her robes. She wore a simple grey dress beneath the robes, it hugged her nicely, but left much to the imagination. If it turned out that she was meeting up with Poppy, well so be it, the woman would be having one hell of an evening.

She stepped out of her office and locked the door behind her. With a speed honed by years of practice the woman immediately disappeared, replaced by her cat form. Minerva gracefully padded her way down to the Room of Requirement. She walked in and out of shadows cast by the candles on the walls. It wouldn't do to be seen lurking at this hour, her animagus form was no secret, after all. Her stomach twisted in so many knots as she neared her destination. If this was how Poppy was going to act in the future perhaps there might be hope for the old relationship after all. Minerva was positively buzzing with excitement.

She approached the appropriate wall and watched the door appear before her. When she got close enough to grasp the door knob she stood back to full height, straightened her hair a bit and made sure her robes fell just so. She opened the door and stepped in.

Hermione Granger was seated in a plush red leather arm chair. She had one leg crossed over the other and was reading a long piece of parchment. Hermione looked up and took in the sight of her professor. The woman self-consciously pulled her robes a bit closer around her body. Hermione lifted an eyebrow at the woman as her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of red. "Is it warm in here?" Hermione asked. Minerva realised she had been lured to a room by her student. Pallor crept up on her cheeks as quickly as the flush had. Hermione smirked, raising an eyebrow. "The moon also rises." She joked at the white that had taken hold of her professor's face.

"Miss Granger, what is the meaning of this?" Minerva asked, her Scottish lilt a bit more pronounced in her flustered state. Hermione chuckled and motioned for the woman to come toward her. Minerva stayed put.

"Honestly professor, I'm not dangerous, you can come closer. We've something to discuss, you and I." Hermione chided. Minerva was stopped up. She took a tentative step forward before shaking her head and striding over to the young witch. She was many years Hermione's senior and there was no reason for her to feel like the tentative school girl in this situation.

Hermione returned to Hogwarts to complete her education, now 18 years of age, legal in both the wizarding and muggle worlds. Since her return to school she had been hell bent on receiving full marks on every single assignment and exam, no exceptions. Her last transfiguration paper was in her hand. Minerva resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Is this about your marks on the 'Long term effects of animal to human transfiguration on the psyche of animals' paper?" She asked.

"I deserve full marks on this paper." Hermione said, her voice measured and calm. "There isn't a single effect I didn't explain."

"Actually Miss Granger, you failed to explain the effect it has on animals who usually abandon their young, as experiencing humanity makes them prone to protect their young much like we as human beings do." Hermione's eyes widened.

"That's ridiculously specific, not something to take a full two points off for! Professor you need to change the grade, I won't leave until you do." Hermione said. This was not at all what Minerva had in mind when she followed the direction in the note. To think she'd worn her grey dress to be screeched at by the girl... no, woman. Her eyes truly took Hermione in for the first time since she arrived. The young witch looked positively fetching with her loosened tie and white pressed shirt.

Minerva school her head. "You'll find you can stay as long as you like. I, however, must be going." Minerva said. She walked to the door and grasped the knob. The door wouldn't budge. She turned back to Hermione. Darkened brown eyes stared back at her.

Hermione walked slowly toward Minerva. "Why won't this door open?" The older witch demanded.

"What I required of this room was for the door not to open until my aims have been met. Since you've refused, you are not permitted to leave, nor am I." Hermione explained. She was close enough now that Minerva could smell her light, vanilla scented hair.

"Miss Granger, I don't have time to sit here and go over your assignment. I am headmistress and I am still teaching transfiguration, as well as heading Gryffindor until I can find a suitable replacement professor. I have a rather full plate, so you must allow me to go." Minerva said in her best authoritative tone.

Hermione nodded in understanding. The grin painted across her face indicated that she understood, but didn't care much about her professor's responsibilities. "I think perhaps you've misunderstood. Neither of us can leave this room until I'm satisfied... in some way. It's what I required of the room." She walked over to the door and tried the knob, it didn't budge. "We're stuck her until I get what I want."

"I am not going to change that grade Miss Granger. I have been teaching for many years and I've never changed a grade." Minerva couldn't believe the gall on this young woman. She certainly came back from war with some nerve on her.

Hermione took two steps toward her professor. Her eyes bore into the taller witch's with electric intensity. "Then we will have to think of a way to get out of here, won't we?" The young witch's voice was smooth, like a hand caressing Minerva's cheek. She leaned in a bit closer. Hermione tugged lightly on the robes covering her professor.

"Miss Granger, this is highly inappropriate!" Minerva exclaimed. Hermione laughed.

"I'm of age Professor." Was all she said before pulling Minerva's dressing robes fully apart. "And you look lovely..." her eyes roved over her professor. Minerva was surprised by how exciting it was to have such a beautiful young woman eyeing her with so much hunger.

The robes fell to the floor. Hermione quickly slipped her own dressing robes off of her shoulders, they fell in a pool of fabric at her feet. Hermione found Minerva stunning in her grey dress. She had chosen to wear a rather risqùe burgundy dress that clung to all the right places and hung off of her body deliciously in others. She had discovered the way earth tones complimented her olive skin tone and brown eyes and hair.

"Miss Granger, you cannot bribe me with... whatever this is in order to make me change your grade. It's completely unethical." Minerva stammered. Truth be told she was reminded of that muggle psychologist Pavlov's dogs, it was as if the young woman was just the bell Minerva salivated for.

Hermione licked her lips and sighed. "Are you always ethical professor? Have you never once let your hair down?" She waved her hand and Minerva's almost militant bun came undone, her long hair flowing down to her waist. Minerva gasped.

When did you learn wandless magic?" She whispered. Hermione laughed.

"I had a lot of time on my hands while out horcrux hunting. When I found myself forced to share my wand, I took it upon myself to learn wandless magic." She shrugged as if it was no big deal. Minerva was impressed. Her magic had always been shoddy without a wand to focus it through.

Hermione took advantage of the moment her professor was spending in thought. She moved closer to the woman and snakes a hand around her neck. Minerva gasped, but Hermione pulled her lips down into the softest of kisses.

Minerva broke the contact. Hermione's eyes bore up into her own. Desperation. "Professor, please. Just do what you've always done. Teach me." She begged. "Just teach me." Minerva noticed that for all the young witch's gall, the hands on her waist were shaking. She was nervous. Arrogant in word, shy in action.

"I am a transfiguration professor Miss Granger. I cannot teach you what you want me to." Minerva explained.

The desperation in Hermione's eyes quickly turned to anger. How had she not seen the anger in this woman's heart from the war? Her façade was so well-built that she appeared the most well adjusted one of them all, but that front was now fallen. Minerva saw the young woman's torment, her savage will.

Without warning her arms were secured behind her back, her wand out of reach in her robes on the floor. Her feet were secured in place on the floor. "You will teach me professor. I am your eager student." Hermione whispered in Minerva's ear.

In spite of herself Minerva gasped at the turn of events. With her arms pulled behind her Minerva became very aware of her breasts. She was not as pert as the young woman accosting her, but her chest was still high and firm in its own right. Hermione slid her hands up her professor's thighs, enjoying the goose flesh that bloomed beneath her soft finger tips. "You feel better than I imagined professor." Hermione rasped, excitement coloring her words.

"Miss Granger, this is inappropriate. Release me." Minerva replied lamely. Hermione just smirked. She could see the very small gyrations of the older witch's hips.

"It looks to me as though propriety isn't currently your priority Professor." Hermione pressed her mouth to Minerva's throat, nipping gently at the woman's pulse point. The moan was quiet, but with no sound to cover it up in the room it filled Hermione's ears to the brim. Hermione trailed kisses up to Minerva's ear. "Let me assure you that I intend to see to your release, professor." She felt the woman shiver beneath her hands.

"Oh, I just knew it professor. You need this as much as I do." The arrogance in Hermione's tone was not lost on Minerva. It made her thighs shake a bit. The moan in response was delicious. Hermione drank it in like so much water.

The young witch backed her professor up into the red leather easy chair she previously sat in. Hermione made short work of removing the grey dress from the older witch's frame. She marvelled for a moment at the beauty of the woman who taught her. Firm breasts rose and fell rapidly. Hermione ran her fingers through Minerva's hair. She chuckled lightly when her professor literally purred in response.

Emerald eyes narrowed at the young witch. There was no use denying the woman any longer. Resigned to her date, Minerva reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting the garment fall into her lap. Hermione tossed the bra to the side and immediately took a pink nipple between her lips. Skilled mouth rolled and nipped and soothed before treating her other breast to much of the same. Eliciting husky moans from her professor.

Minerva stopped Hermione from kissing her way downward. Hermione looked up into emerald eyes. Doubt clouded there. Sensing the hesitency for her to be there, Hermione changed direction and kissed her way up creamy, pale skin. She paid homage to the beautiful clavicle on her way up and finally pressed her soft lips to Minerva's tight lined lips. She felt the barrier move as strict mouth gave way to seeking tongue.

It was nothing short of a duel. Lips crashing, tongues lapping at one another, hands roving across skin. Passion built up in the two women, so different and so similar. One woman a twice survivor of war, one woman a survivor of the uppermost front line. Salty emotion tinged the kiss, seasoning it with shared experience and understanding. They were from different worlds, but they had lived the same story.

Hermione slipped her hand back down the trail her needing tongue previously travelled. Minerva let her slip her fingers past the last barrier. Both women sighed in relief at the first touch. The first connection. Hermione explored her professor slowly. Minerva quickly became impatient.

"Do you mistake me for a delicate flower, girl?" She demanded in Scottish style. Hermione growled, curling two fingers into the woman. Hips rose to meet questing digits. A graceful arch of the back. Hermione devoured the neck bent back before her, not caring if she left marks in her wake. She was furious over so many things. She lived through all this to have a mark two points of perfect? And it was this witch's fault.

Minerva was close to her peak. Hermione slowed, denying promised release. Minerva snarled her disapproval. "Dont you dare." She demanded.

Hermione languidly pumped her professor, denying necessary roughness. "The matter of my mark?" She asked as if she wasn't knuckle deep in her mentor. Emerald flashed maliciously.

"Finish me and we will discuss it." She bartered. Hermione laughed. With her free hand she silently summoned the parchment.

"Change it now and I make your world explode into a million shades of grey." She promised. Minerva was in no positon to argue.

"My wand, girl." Hermione smiled and handed her professor the wooden instrument. Minerva changed the grade and initialed the correction. Hermione instantly added a third finger and viciously brought the woman to completion, taking on nipple and then the other into her hot mouth.

Lamps around the room shattered and Hermione lifted her free hand, casting a patronize around the two of them. Light and shards of glass flickered around the women as they both found exactly what they needed.

A small while later, when Minerva had settled back down, she clothed herself and stood. "I want to offer you the head of Gryffindor position Miss Granger. I think you cab handle our lions quite well if your treatment of this lioness is any indication." Hermione smirked and brought her fingers to her nose, beathing in her professor's scent. Minerva glowered a the young witch. "Yes, I believe you'll do just fine." She said. "You'll report to my office in the morning." She reached for the door knob and turned. "Arent you coming?" She asked.

"Where?" Hermione replied.

"You'll report to my bed chambers tonight." Minerva answered with a gleam in her eye. Hermione's mouth opened slightly and she wordlessly followed her mentor, pleased with everything she got from their rendezvous.

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