Well, this goes with a picture I posted (yay photoshop fun) on facebook's MM/HG Fan Club. I was looking at it, and this idea came to mind. It's a bit on the dark side, you've been warned. I have it marked as complete, but there is certainly room for a followup fic. Tell me what you think!

No one had seen it coming. Hermione Granger had returned to Hogwarts to finish her education after the war, and all had seemed well enough. She was socially active, supportive to her friends who had lost loved ones, and as always, her marks were above every single one of her classmates. No one had expected Hermioine to arrive at breakfast on a Saturday morning, dressed in a rather flattering summer dress, and to let out a blood curdling scream just as the Headmistress had snapped her fingers, signaling the food to be served.

While that had been plenty a surprise for Minerva, the rest of the staff, and the student body, the Great Hall had been left in stunned silence when an explosion of wandless magic from Hermione shattered every bit of glass, goblet to window pane, and for the eighteen year old to then run out of the Hall like a bat out of hell. Several students reported that he was muttering 'darker and darker, deeper and deeper', repeatedly, and none of them had a clue what it meant.

Minerva had quickly cast a tracking charm on the young women, and after briefly consulting Poppy about what may have just happened, she was off to find Hermione and bring her back to the castle. The Hogwarts Matron believed it more likely to be a psychotic break, rather than some dark spell that was influencing Hermione. Minerva, sorry for not seeing this coming, had denied Harry and Ron the right of going after their friend; no, she needed to do it.

The tracking charm on Hermione led Minerva to the Forbidden Forest. Beyond this point, the tracking charm would be useless. She'd have to use other means to located her star pupil. With a sigh, she transformed into her animagus form and a moment later, a tabby cat could be seen padding carefully into the thick wood.

Hermione's trail was not hard to pick up. A bit of torn dress here, a sprinkling of blood there; Minerva hoped that even in her state of mind, Hermione would be able to defend herself. The war might be over, but the dangers lurking amongst these trees had never been heightened, nor lessened, by the political tides. Even Hagrid would not enter the forest unarmed.

It wasn't more than twenty minutes before Minerva caught up to Hermione, the young woman's heavy breath giving her place away.

"Darker and darker, deeper and deeper," Hermione muttered to the trees, unaware of her Professor's presence. "Fucking bastard. Mind rape."

Minerva's breathing hitched at Hermione's dark, angry tone; not to mention her language. Mind rape? What had happened to this girl?

As if Hermione had heard her unspoken question, she continued to speak. "Eye contact, they fucking told me! No, don't need that. HE didn't need eye contact to enter my mind…"

Wondering who he was a brief activity for Minerva. Hermione's rant to the Forbidden Forest was not over. On one hand, Minerva thought she ought to transform back to human form and bring her student back to the castle now, but on the other hand, she thought it would be a good idea to listen to what Hermione said. The ability to help her recover may depend strongly on understanding what had caused the brilliant young woman to snap.

"How do you keep on going when with a snap of his fingers, Voldemort can just pop into any mind he wants, forcing memories best forgotten to surface, or if nothing horrid enough can be found, just fucking implant new ones of his making!" Hermione screamed. "Rape. Torture. More rape. Death! Death! Death! So much fucking death!"

Minerva knew if she had been in human form, she'd be crying by now. God, what had Voldemort done to this poor girl?

"The really ironic part of this whole bloody thing is that he only picked me because he reminded me of her," Hermione whimpered. "Minerva fucking McGonagall. Golden girl of her generation, just like me. Brightest witch of her age, just like me. Gryffindor, just like me. Muggle heritage, just like me. Gay...just like me."

Oh dear. Minerva thought. Voldemort had always harbored a soft spot for her, she knew that. It had afforded her some protection of the course of two wars. Albus still laughed about the look on her face when he told her that Severus had reported that Voldemort hoped to sway her to his side and have a child with her.

"So he's dead," Hermione went on. "But I still have the fucking nightmares. And if I don't have a nightmare about being raped or tortured, it's her death. I was going to take that secret to the grave, but no. He had to poke around in my to find more reasons to call me a mudblood freak. Yea, that's right, this stupid bloody girl had to fall in love with her stupid bloody teacher. Who the fuck does that, anyhow? What's wrong with me? I should like Ron or Harry. I should want to get married and pop out a couple of kids. But I don't. All I fucking want is to shag Minerva senseless. I'd be happy with just once. One fucking time, and maybe she wouldn't haunt my dreams."

Minerva transformed silently, but remained hidden, jaw slack and eyes wide. Well that was unexpected…

"Of course, that's not likely to happen, so here I am. I can't sleep. I see Death Eaters around every corner. I hear Voldemort's voice in my head all the time. I can feel her watching me in class, or at meals, and I'm shaking on the inside, scared that anyone I'm around will try to rape me. Harry. Ron. Ginny. Malfoy. Crabbe. Goyle. Parkinson. Snape. Sprout. Flitwick. Tonks. Moody. Lupin. Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley. Neville. Dean. Lavender. Seamus. Hagrid. Cormic. Cedric. Viktor. EVERY SINGLE FUCKING ONE OF THEM!"

"Hermione…" Minerva finally found the courage to call.

The young woman's head whipped around in her direction, staring for a moment. "No. You're not fucking real!"

"I assure you, my dear," Minerva said soothingly. "I am."

It seemed to Minerva that Hermione had been suffering from nightmares, and thus not sleeping, and as a result was experiencing paranoid delusions and hallucinations. She was quite sure that Hermione truly did not believe she was anything other than another phantom of her mind.

"You're not bleeding." Hermione hissed. "You're not dead."

Minerva wasn't sure what that meant, but she elected not to worry about it; she needed to get Hermione out of here. Her senses told her that danger was closing in. They were running out of time. "Please, Hermione, we must go."

"How come you never rape me?" Hermione asked, taking a step toward her, slowly. "Everyone else does. Why not you?"

Minerva had no idea how to answer that sort of question. Especially to a woman who had just confessed, however unintentionally, to being in love with her. She was not proud to admit it, but she'd sported a bit of a crush on Hermione for several years now. She never even considered it going anywhere, though. "I care for you," she finally decided to admit. "I would never harm you."

"But I would rather be raped by you, if I must be raped by anyone," the younger witch pressed.

"Wouldn't you rather we made love?" Minerva heard herself ask. It was just a supposition, she reasoned. She wasn't actually proposing such a thing.

"God, yes," Hermione moaned, a soft smile playing on her lips. "But Minerva, the point is moot to discuss, as you are not actually here. I'm not even certain I am. Maybe the whole of the Wizarding world, everyone I know, everything I've learned…even the stupid bloody war….maybe it's all in my head. That I can't sleep because I'm already sleeping. Perhaps I'm in some hospital in a coma."

Minerva realized something in that moment. She had seen this happen before. Unable to cope with their reality, usually one that has been rather brutal in some way, person would have a moment in which they suddenly decided that their reality was not actually real. She had seen it happen to Frank and Alice Longbottom. Minerva knew that this was the moment that would make or break Hermione. She had to convince Hermione this was real right now, or she'd lose the brilliant young woman to a life in St. Mungo's. One false move, and she'd be gone.

"What can I say or do to prove to you that I am real? That this," she said, spreading her arms out to indicate the Forbidden Forest, "is real?"

"Rape me," Hermione said calmly.

Minerva stared blankly at the girl in front of her. "Excuse me?"

"Rape me," she repeated. "Come over here, throw me on the ground, and have your fucking way with me. I...dream of being raped every single night, yet if what you are telling me reality is, I have never been sexually assaulted. Had sex, once, yes, but I think...I think I could tell the difference in how rape felt, if it's real."

"Is there an alternate option?" the older witch inquired. Did Hermione have a clue what she was asking Minerva to do? Even with the young woman's consent, she was still a student so at best, the Wizengamot would send her to Azkaban for inappropriate conduct. It wasn't that she didn't find Hermione attractive...but she was most certainly not the sort of person to force herself on another.

"Not really," Hermione replied. "When you're in my dreams...which of course you should know, being a figment of my imagination…"

Hermione laughed at her own comment. Minerva did not find it in the slightest way amusing.

"When you're in my dreams, you are always telling me how no matter how I feel, we could never be together. So if we were...that would be different, and I'd know this was real," Hermione explained.

"Do I have to rape you," Minerva inquired, "or would having sex with you do the trick just as well?"

Not that having sex versus rape changed the potential consequences for her, but at least she wouldn't feel as….dirty about it. If she lay with Hermione, and Hermione with her...well, that was a display of love, or at least of attraction. Minerva could easily admit she found the young woman - dirty and blood covered that she was - attractive, but she had not considered before this moment how she felt for the younger witch.

Did she love Hermione?

No, she didn't. She was very fond of her. She always had been, and the whole of Hogwarts knew that. It was certainly no secret that Hermione was, as they say, a teacher's pet. Oh, but there was a better question to ask:

Could she love Hermione?

Minerva was surprised at how easily the answer came: Yes.

"Hermione?" she asked softly, taking a step toward the large tree the young woman was leaning on. "Make love to me?"

Chocolate eyes blinked, unsure. "Minerva...are you real?"

Minerva nodded. "I already said that I was. Have I ever lied to you before?"

Hermione shook her head 'no'. "And you want to...make love to me?"

Again, Minerva nodded in the affirmative, untrusting of her voice. If this was what it took to keep Hermione anchored into reality, she would gladly do it. Not for the physical enjoyment, though she imagined that she would enjoy running her hands over Hermione's soft curves, but rather because it was what the young woman had asked of her, and if she really thought about it, Minerva knew that she would never find a time when she wouldn't do as Hermione asked. Perhaps she already was in love with the beautiful, intelligent witch in front of her now. When had that happened?

She didn't have time to ponder further, because a moment later, Hermione's lips were on her own, and she found all of her focus dedicated to the sensation of lips melding and tongues dueling. Hermione, very forward, wasted no time in beginning to unbutton Minerva's robes. Knowing it was a decidedly bad idea to do this within the walls of the castle, but also remembering that the Forbidden Forest was forbidden for several very good reasons, she silently cast a few wards to keep them safe.

Hermione's dress slid easily off her shoulders at Minerva's urging. After that, they were both clad in nothing but bras and knickers. Aroused at the beautiful display of womanhood before her, Minerva pushed Hermione back against the tree, quickly banished their undergarments, and lifted the younger witch so that her legs were wrapped around her waist. In all of this, the kissing never stopped. It built, and built, Minerva realizing in rush of endorphins that she needed this...probably almost as much as Hermione did. When had been the last time she'd just done something for herself? Gone after something she wanted? Years…

"Hermione," she moaned. "Want you."

"Yes!" the younger woman hissed, rocking her hips against Minerva's pelvis, the dripping cum soaking her skin.

Bloody fucking hell, Hermione was aroused, the older witch thought. Then, with a smile and a thought of days gone by and previous lovers closed her eyes in concentration, and urged another spell, Transfiguration this time, forth. A few seconds later her clitoris had enlarged in girth and length, effectively giving her an eight inch penis to impale Hermione with.

A few seconds later, she did just that.

Hermione gasped at the intrution, eyes widening in surprise. "Oh my god…" she whispered. "That feels…amazing."

Minerva began thrusting; Hermione pinned between the tree and her partner. Hermione's nails dug into her back, as her own were digging into Hermione's thighs. The younger witch's hot breath tickled Minerva's neck just before her pulse point was clamped between a set of very healthy teeth, as the younger woman orgasmed.

"Ohhh…" Minerva groaned, cumming hard.

"Min…" Hermione mumbled into her neck.

"Hermione…" she replied softly, loosening her grip a bit, but still supporting her...lover.

They remained like that for a minute longer, until Minerva carefully pulled the younger witch tightly against her body, and then after reversing the spell which had altered her anatomy, the two collapsed onto the mossy ground below.

Minerva watched Hermione carefully, searching for some response; some sign that Hermione was now firmly planted in reality. The sign came in the form of Hermione's eyes fluttering closed, and a minute later, her soft breathing told Minerva that the younger woman had fallen asleep - probably resting easily for the first time in months.

She sighed, grabbed her wand, and reclothed both of them, and then picked Hermione's sleeping form up and after disabling the wards that had kept them safe in the Forbidden Forest, she apparated them directly to her personal chambers in the Head's Tower. She deposited Hermione on her bed, and then headed to the shower. If she were to guess, Hermione would sleep for at least half the day, but Minerva still had responsibilities to attend to, starting with what to tell the concerned staff and students about where Hermione was and why.

What did you think? Continue or not? Please review!