Before she was Professor McGonagall, she was Minerva Macnair. After an arranged marriage forces her into an impossible situation, Minerva does what she must to survive. When she makes a new life for herself, her secrets follow and threaten everythin...
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"It's late."
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27 July 1997
Minerva's eyes opened, and she blinked twice, the wisps of her dream retreating into the fog from which she'd awakened. The sun slanted in through the curtains at an angle that told her it was nearing six o' clock. She rolled over to find Alastor's natural eye open, looking at her.
"Good morning," he said.
"Good morning."
She was glad he no longer insisted on wearing the uncomfortable patch to bed, but this morning, the empty socket of his missing eye reminded her of his vulnerability.
She reached over to brush a straggle of grey hair from his cheek, and he leant over to kiss her. Despite her need to get up and face a busy day, the kiss turned heated and serious—at whose instigation, Minerva couldn't have said.
Alastor's lips travelled from her mouth to her neck, and she pulled herself closer to him, tangling her top leg with his, careful to avoid jostling his stump too badly. His hands wandered under her nightdress, ghosting over her thighs and bottom and skimming across her belly, finally finding her breasts, to send electric shocks of pleasure through her. Already breathless with need, she removed their clothes with a wandless spell.
"Love it when you do that," he murmured into her neck.
Minerva's fingers moved over his scarred body almost frantically, as if trying to memorise him by touch, and he stroked her face with one hand, the other dipping between her open thighs to discover just how badly she wanted him again, despite his having taken her enthusiastically to bed the previous evening.
His good eye stayed steady on her face, and her eyes remained open while her tension grew in response to his fingers' knowing dance.
She made him stop before sensation overwhelmed her.
"Now, please," she said, her hands urging him to complete their union.
They made love like that, facing one another, Alastor clutching at her hip for leverage. Near the end, Minerva stopped moving and let him control the rhythm. When she fell apart around him, Alastor's lips took hers again, and his moans disappeared into her mouth.
