Well, here's another oneshot that came out of absolutly nowhere. My internet was down this evening, and so I said to myself, 'well, I might as well get some writing done.' I then stared at the blank screen and said "Hmmm...plot? Plot?" - And this is what happened. Hope you enjoy, even if it is rated T. In fairness, you did just get a Wizardry Park update with some smut, so here's some fluff on the side.

People had said it before. Hermione Granger had Minerva McGonagall wrapped around her pinky. No one would actually point the finger at the vernable Headmistress and call it favoratism, but most thought it. The truth, however, was a bit on the complicated side. Hermione Granger, you see, owned the older, dark haired witch, and she had for several years now.

Four stunners to the chest. Hermione watched in fear as her favorite professor was struck down by Umbridge and her pet Aurors. No, Hermione thought. She can't die. There must be something I can do…

A moment later, a flash of blue light encompassed the Transfiguration Professor as she lay there, still on the ground. Where a moment before there was no sign of movement, the Deputy's chest suddenly began rising and falling in a strong, steady rythem. Hermione didn't know how, but she did know that she had just saved McGonagall's life. As she watched her beloved teacher breathe, her own chest felt tight and sore, as if it had been she that had just been struck by the stunners. She made no movement, nor sound, to indicate that she was in pain, but she was, and she would certainly be spending some of her free time in the Library trying to discover how she had just brought someone back from the brink of death. After all, it would certainly be useful to know.

Hermione knew tonight would change everything. She was moments away from stepping forth as a Hogwarts Graduate, after which point the spell she had placed on Minerva, the lifelink, would be undone. She could have undone it anytime in the last three years, but she had been afraid to, because Minerva's obedience was something she'd come to highly value, and didn't want to lose.

After tonight, the choice to obey Hermione would become Minerva's. The older witch had every reason to be angry at her, and more than ready to be rid of the laws of magic that forced her to cater to Hermione's whims, but soft chocolate eyes hoped that forgiveness had sometime come to Minerva, and that the older witch had found some happiness in her captivity.

Hermione jaw slackened as a confused and annoyed looking Minerva McGonagall, still in dressing gown, snuck into her bedroom at nearly two in the morning. No way…

"Miss Granger," she'd said crisply. "Have you got an explanation as to why I have been drawn to your location?"

"Old Magic," Hermione had whispered. "The lifelink."

Minerva's eyes had widened, and her hand clutched at her chest, understanding dawning on her in a flash. She was, after all, a long tenured Professor, so it was no surprise to Hermione if the older woman knew of the old magic which Hogwarts was built on. "Grateful as I am for my life," Minerva said tensely. "I must insist that you release the spell at once. I assume, that if your research has led you to knowledge of the lifelink, then you are well aware of how to undo it."

Hermione had thought for a moment. Yes, she could undo the link. It was a force of will, and a simple spell, which would cause no harm to either of them. However, even if Umbridge was now out of their ways, Voldemort was still out there, and Hermione suspected that Minerva would be in danger, again, soon enough. The lifelink, she knew now, had been a precurser to the Horcrux. So long as Hermione remained alive, Minerva was essentially immortal. She could not be killed.

So, for the first time since coming to Hogwarts almost six years ago, Hermione defied her respected Professor. "No," she said simply. "I will not. You are safe, with the link intact, and that is how I'd prefer you to remain."

"Miss Granger!" Minerva had balked, stunned at Hermione's refusal to obey her.

"You cannot make me," Hermione had replied quietly. "Now go back to bed, Professor, and do not speak of this to anyone other than myself. That includes portraits."

Well, that sealed the deal, Hermione knew. Minerva knew it as well, by the storm of rage in her eyes as she turned and walked out of Hermoine's dorm, whether she wanted to or not. Hermione owned her.

Hermione mentally called for Minerva to come to her, and a few minutes later, a tabby cat padded into view.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," Minerva said quietly. "What do you want?"

"I wish that you'd call me Hermione," the younger Gryffindor sighed. "Though you know I wont make that an order."

Minerva huffled. "Of all the things you won't order me to do…"

"There will be no more orders at all, after tonight," Hermione said quietly. "By tomorrow morning you will be a free woman."

The older witch stared at her. "After more than three years," she finally breathed out. "Why?"

"For the same reason that Merope Gaunt freed Tom Riddle Sr," Hermione sighed. "Because I can not hold the woman I'm in love with against her will. Not any longer."

Whatever Minerva had been expecting, that was most certainly not it. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," the younger witch huffed. "The captor has fallen for the captive. I fear that away from the eyes that watch Hogwarts, I may force you to do something I'd never forgive myself for. So, I am setting you free."

"Miss Granger…" Minerva breathed. "I don't...thank you."

"Could you possibly summon me at more reasonable times of day?" Minerva had asked with a exasperted sigh as she came into view, to the nook inthe Library where Hermione had been studying all night. "It's nearly two in the morning, Miss Granger. I should give you detention."

"You won't give me detention," Hermione had muttered, not even looking up from her book. "You can't."

"You know, you might have been in Slytherin for how well you've minipulated me. It's unbecoming of a Gryffindor," Minerva had muttered.

"The Sorting Hat did consider me for Slytherin," Hermione had replied, looking up. "Ravenclaw, too. In the end, I chose Gryffindor because it told me that I would need a positive role model, and I thought that you would do best with me, of all the Heads of House."

And that had been when it all changed, for Hermione. The look of pride in her mentor's eyes, even though it was briefly shown and quickly pushed aside in favor of the anger that usually clouded the emerald eyes, had shown Hermione just how special the woman beside her was. Despite every right she had to be angry, she still had a soft spot for the curly haired sixth year; pride to know that Hermione had chosen her.

Standing in the dimly lit corner of the Library, Hermione decided that Minerva McGonagall was beautiful. Dressing gown wrapped tightly around her thin waist, ebony hair hanging over the front of her shoulder in a lose braid, and a modest amount of cleavage showing under the lowly crossed robe, Hermione saw Minerva, the woman, for the first time.

"What did you want, Miss Granger?" Minerva had finally asked with a sigh.

"Nothing," Hermione had replied quietly, taking in the newfound perception of her Professor. "Sorry to have bothered you. You can go back to bed."

Minerva had paused, staring curiously at her student for a moment before nodding and turning to walk away. Hermione had felt vulnerable under the older witch's gaze; not weak, per say. Just not as confident as usual. Something about Minerva McGonagall was making her second guess herself. Importance of her search for the half-blood Prince forgotten, Hermione closed the book she'd been reading and make her way back to the Gryffindor dorms.

"Hermione Granger," Minerva's voice called, ushering the graduate forward to accept her diploma.

Hermione stepped up, noticing a look of peace in Minerva's eyes that she had not seen in all her years of knowing the older woman. She wished she could believe it had something to do with her confession of love for her now former Professor, but she guessed it had more to do with the knowledge that Hermione indended to free her from the lifelink. Like Voldemort had owned Severus Snape, bound by the Dark Mark, she had owned Minerva for the last three years. In that time, she had called out of the older woman for research help, for advice on her future, and for assistance during the year she, Harry, and Ron were on the run.

This last year, she had called on Minerva less and less, her ever growing feelings making her feel guilty for her continuing refusal to break the lifelink. During her sixth and would have been seventh years, she had justified it by the notion that she was protecting Minerva, but the last year had been for purely selfish desire to know that the woman she was in love with would come as she willed. Now, she was ending it. It felt like a bad break-up, Hermione mused. She knew that Minerva could easily have her sent to Azkaban, as soon as she was free to tell others what Hermione had done to her, but she was fairly sure the older witch would not turn her in. No, she was far more likely to just spend the rest of her days avoiding the young woman who'd put her through three years of servitude under a spell of which an altered version was still used to bind House Elves.

Hermione Jean Granger, top of the Hogwarts class of 1999, took her diploma without looking the Headmistress in the eye.

Minerva McGongall was pacing her office, thinking about ideas on how to protect her students from the wrath of Snape and the Carrows. Neville Longbottom had just headed back to the Room of Requirement, after having been hexed within an inch of his life by the resident sibling Death Eaters; she had tended to him best she could, and sent him off, but she didn't know if she'd be able to manage the next time.

Suddenly, she was overcome with agonizing pain all over her body. Minerva dropped to the ground, screaming, scared, but not in the slightest confused. Hermione Granger had to be under the Crusiatus Cruse; there was no other explanation. The lifelink protected her from any harm so long as Hermione was safe, but it also meant that she would feel if Hermione was dying.

"Dobby!" she had called out.

"Professors McGonagalls!" Dobby's now familiar voice exclaimed. "What is hurting yous?"

"Old Magic," she'd bit out, feeling the pain lessen for a moment. "Harry Potter and his friends are in trouble. Find them!"

She'd known, even then, that she could very well be sending the poor Elf to his death, but if Hermione was being tourtured, then chances were, Harry Potter was as well, and Potter had to live long enough to fight Voldemort. Dobby was no less a soldier in this war than any witch or wizard, and she knew without doubt that he would be willing and able to help now, and that he would not ask the questions that she could not answer. Chances were, he'd been waiting for an opportunity to do his part.

A few minutes later, after the word mudblood had been magically cut into her arm, the pain ceased, and Minerva was able to relax enough to think on what had just happened.

Hermione had been tourtured. If she was to guess, she'd suspect Bellatrix Lastrange had been involved in it. Concern overwhelmed the Transfiguration mistress, and it surprised her how much that concern was focused on the young woman who had been holding her under a magical compellement to do her bidding for two years, rather than the boy-who-would-beat-Voldemort, or even her friend Molly's son. She should hate Hermione Granger, and regardless of the pain ebbing away, she should not still be worried sick for the young witch. She should not be praying that Hermione would force her to flee the castle and go where ever she'd found safe haven. Knowing the beautiful young woman had survived was suddenly not enough.

The walls of her quaters witnessed the shock on her face when she realized that somehow, someway, she had begun to love her captor, Hermione Granger. The question still remained...how much?

Hermione was finished packing. Everything was in order. There was only one thing left for her to do here at Hogwarts, and so with a ragged sigh, she held her tears and bay, chin up high, and made her way to Minerva's office; the Headmistress' office. She would give only one more order to the woman she loved, and after that, she'd be free to choose; free to decide if she would accept or reject Hermione's plea for forgiveness.

The Gargoyle allowed Hermione entry without question, as it had for all of this year, upon her order that Minerva arrange it to be so. "Minerva?" she called, stepping in side.

"Come in, Miss Granger," came the crisp reply.

Minerva stood from her desk, and Hermione walked up to her.

"Kiss me," Hermione ordered without preamble. She knew she could order Minerva to make love to her in front of the whole of the student body, but she could not bring herself to violate the woman she loved any more than one kiss, in a private setting, where only the two of them would know to remember it.

Without hesitation, as always, Minerva leaned forward and captured Hermione's lips with her own. The kiss was gentle, and given with a feeling that surprised the younger women. Still, Hermione kept her hands to herself, unwilling to push any further. As Minerva began to pull away, Hermione nonverbally cast the spell to free the woman standing in front of her.

The Headmistressstared at her, silent. Her face was emotionless, but a small shudder of her shoulders indicated to Hermione that Minerva knew the spell had been broken.

"For what it's worth," Hermione said quietly. "I'm sorry."

After a long pause, closed eyes, and a deep breath, Minerva looked intently at the young woman before her. "I'm not," she whispered, voice shaking. Then, to Hermione's shock, she leaned forward again and bestowed a second, willing and uncompelled kiss.

This time, Hermione's hands instantly moved to pull Minerva closer. When Minerva pulled away again, tears began cascading out of brown eyes. "I love you. So much," she uttered desperatly.

"I've spent three years forced to do your bidding, and it turns out that I'm not inclined to stop. The spell might be broken, but gods woman, you still own me," Minerva confessed, voice shaking. "I love you too, Hermione."

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