I swear, I am a slave to the Plot Bunny. I had this idea this evening, which I was only planning on being about 2k in length, and it turned into...this. I honestly think this is one of my better stories. I had a blast writing it. I total, total blast. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoying writing it.

Hermione Granger's eyes grew wide as the solution to her problem was tossed through the air in front of her in the form of Fred and George Weasley. The problem, bugger the cliché of it all, was her ever growing crush on Professor Minerva McGonagall. She was fairly certain that her Transfiguration Professor was into girls, as the rumor mill was thick with stories of the on again, off again relationship between her and the Hogwarts Quidditch Coach, Madam Hooch. As of now, so far as Hermione knew, the couple were in an 'off again' stage; a fact which had done nothing but fuel Hermione's feelings.

The problem within the problem was her age. She was only fifteen years old, a fourth year student, and Minerva McGonagall sure as hell wouldn't look at her in any other way. She was too young. Way too young. In fact, even if Hermione resolved to wait until she was of age in two years before attempting to ask Minerva out on a date, she would probably still be too young in the older woman's eyes. No matter how much time passed, Hermione knew she would remain a good twenty or so years shy of age appropriate.

Fred and George had just tried to fool Dumbedore's Age Line, around the Goblet of Fire, by using an aging potion. Of course, their plan had backfired, but the principal behind it had merit when she considered her plight. Granted, an age Potion was only temporary, and she would certainly not be able to maintain an accelerated age in any sort of long term, nor would she wish to deceive Minerva like that, but if took an age potion would made her about fifty, versus fifteen, perhaps Minerva would be willing to at least consider the possibility of them being together.

Of course, she'd have to further disguise her appearance a little bit unless she wanted Minerva to figure out who she was off the bat, but that would be simply a matter of a few glamour charms. The next question was how she could maintain that duality without getting caught…

Hermione thought for a few minutes before coming to the conclusion that it would be smartest to wait till summer. She could spend the rest of the year at Hogwarts working out what Minerva did during the summer holidays and how to happen to meet her, as well as collect a good supply of the ingredients she'd need to consistently make the aging potion.

"Bugger," Hermione muttered to herself, realizing that if she waited till summer, she could not use Glamor charms, as she'd be away from school. She'd have to come up with another way to disguise the older version of herself.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Nothing," Hermione replied with a forced smile at her friend. "Just thinking."

"Oh," Ron replied. "Right then."

Minerva walked around her classroom, observing the progress of her fourth year Gryffindor and Slytherin class. She paused momentarily when she passed Miss Granger's desk, startled to see that the girl was not working on her assignment, but rather scribbling furiously in a notebook. Her brief glance caught the words McGonagall Manor and The Kilns, causing her to nearly stumble.

How the bloody hell had Hermione found out about The Kilns? Minerva wondered, thinking about the small cottage outside of London that she usually spend part of her summer break at. She usually went to the Manor for a while, but she hated being so secluded all summer long, and rather preferred being close to the city after being here at Hogwarts, a Castle in the middle of absolutely nowhere, nine months out of the year.

Hermione did not seem to notice her glance, so after finishing her sweep around to the rest of her students, she casually worked her way back over to Hermione's desk, hoping for another glance at what the girl was up to. By the time she got there, however, the young Gryffindor had already put away the notebook and was sitting there with her hands folded on the table, obviously having already finished the assignment. Seeing no grounds for rebuking the girl for working on something else after completing her work, Minerva sighed and kept walking toward her desk at the front of the room.

After class finished and they were dismissed, Minerva was surprised to see Hermione lingering behind. "Can I help you, Miss Granger?"

Minerva raised her eyebrows as the girl smirked at her. "I noticed you peeking at my notebook, Professor," Hermione said casually. "For the record, as I'm sure you were wondering, I have relatives in that part of London, which I had mentioned to Professor Dumbledore, who told me that you had a home there as well."

Minerva pursed her lips, slightly annoyed at Albus for divulging that information to a student. "And you had a need to have a written record of that fact because?" she inquired, not buying for a second that there was nothing more to the story than that.

Hermione shrugged. "You never know when information of any kind might come in handy," she dodged. "I need to get to lunch, Professor. I just didn't want to leave you wondering what I was up to."

"And why would I wonder if you were up to anything, Miss Granger?" Minerva inquired with an upward quirk of her lips.

Hermione suddenly grinned, and then placed her hands on the edge of the desk and leaned forward, until her face was only a few inches away from Minerva's. "Because I usually am up to something," she replied playfully.

The girl turned and left without another word, leaving Minerva's heart pounding as the older woman stared after the girl for minutes after she had gone, dumbfounded at what has just happened. If she didn't know any better, she'd think that Hermione had just been flirting with her. And Merlin be damned, she might have been flirting back.

"God, I need to get laid," Minerva muttered, suddenly very thankful that it was the last week of the school year. Summertime was the opportune time to go searching for a lover.

Today was the day. Hermione had spent the first few weeks of summer break perfecting her plan for seducing her professor. Oh, she hated to think of it that way; seduction. She had, over the course of the last two years, become utterly convinced that she was falling head over heals in love with her Transfiguration Professor. Her plan for the summer was to get to know, and hopefully get romantically involved with, Minerva McGonagall. She had done sufficient reconnaissance (Hermione refused to admit she was stalking), and figured out exactly where The Kilns, Minerva's summer home, was located, as well as the older woman's general likes and dislikes. It had been rather vindicating to find out that the two of them shared many commonalities; they had similar tastes in food, shopping outlets, hobbies, and recreational activities.

Every morning at about eight thirty, Minerva could be found jogging through one of the local parks. Much to Hermione's disappointment, the older woman did wear rather modest jogging attire, though that did not mean that Hermione had to as well. She didn't want to be too skimpy, as she was going to be appearing to be about forty years old or so, but showing off a little cleavage (which her aged body had plenty of, Hermione was pleased to discover) could be rather helpful as she proceeded with her plan.

Potion drunk to age her, hair dyed a dark auburn, and a bit of makeup applied did a decent job making the older version of herself mostly unrecognizable. She'd tested her disguise on her parents, who she 'accidentally' ran into with a shopping cart at the market. Hermione had apologized profusely to them, and made small talk for about ten minutes, and in all that time they did not recognize their own daughter. She figured that if she could fool them, then Minerva would not suspect either.

Hermione pulled on a tight fitting pair of jogging pants, sports bra type matching top, and a pair of sneakers and then walked out the door. The park Minerva jogged at was only a block from a bus stop, so she'd taken the city transport from her house to here, was now changing in one of the park's public restrooms. She was not about to wear this get-up on a public bus.

She checked her watch for the time, knowing that Minerva would be jogging by this very spot at about 8:45. Her plan was similar to what she did to her parents. She would simply exit the bathroom, wait for Minerva to approach, and then jog out of the bathroom, appearing not to see the older woman, and run right into her. Her watch read twenty till, so Hermione peeked her head out and looked.

Right on schedule, Hermione saw Minerva jogging down the path towards her location, seemingly lost in thought. "God, she's beautiful," Hermione whispered to herself. The girl in an older woman's body watched, timing Minerva's pace to accurately guess when she'd be jogging by the doorway.

Three, two, one, Hermione thought. Go!

Hermione bolted out the door, and right on cue, Minerva slammed into her. Prepared as she had been to take the hit, landing on the blacktop still hurt quite a bit. "Ow," she said.

"Oh my god," Minerva said, kneeling down beside her. "I am so sorry. Are you alright?"

Hermione's heart jolted when Minerva touched her hand. "Never better," she replied. "Though I believe that was my fault. I should have been looking where I was going."

"So should I have," Minerva argued with a laugh. "However, there are worse ways to meet a beautiful woman."

Hermione suppressed her desire whoop in victory, settling instead on flashing a smile and pushing forward with the flirting that Minerva had started. "Well I won't disagree. You are most certainly a beautiful woman."

Minerva bit her lip and blushed. "I was referring to you, Miss…"

"Oh," Hermione said, holding out her hand. "My name is Helen. Helen Granger."

Hermione had debated on whether or not to use her own surname, but in the end she decided that a plausible reason why she might look like a student of Minerva's outweighed the risk that Minerva would make a trip to Hermione's parents' house to find out more about 'Helen'. Minerva was very much a 'do it yourself' kind of person, and Hermione did not expect she would go try and verify Helen's relation. She was more likely to just get to know someone by asking them what she wanted to know.

"Granger?" Minerva said. "Any relation to a young lady, sixteen years old, named Hermione Granger?"

Hermione nodded. "My brother's daughter. She goes to some boarding school for gifted youth, so I rarely see her. Do you know her?"

Minerva chuckled. "Well I'm a teacher at the school that Hermione goes to, as it happens. Your niece is a very gifted girl."

"What's your name?" Hermione inquired, playing dumb. "Hermione writes me letters often, and has told me about some of her teachers."

"Oh, I apologize. Professor McGonagall," she replied with a blush. "Minerva McGonagall, I mean."

Hermione nodded, astounded at how well her plan was working. Minerva McGonagall was standing there, blushing like a schoolgirl. "Yes, she's told me about you. You're her, and I quote, absolute favorite teacher in the whole school, hands glued to the table. She also said you were kind of the supervisor of her dorm?"

"Yes. Her Head of House, we call it. The school had four different dorms, and there's a teacher in charge of each one. It gives the children a sense of family while away from their homes during the school year," Minerva explained.

Hermione nodded, understanding everything that Minerva was saying, but acting as if she was hearing about it for the first time. "That sounds like a great system," she replied.

Hermione waited patiently for Minerva to make the next move, and seconds later, she did. "Would you like to get a cup of tea?" she blurted.

Hermione held back a laugh. It really was an incredible experience to see Minerva so relaxed. This was woman she loved. This woman made all of the research she'd done for the last two years totally worth it.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Hermione inquired with a smile.

"Well we have been flirting since you ran me over ten minutes ago," Minerva shrugged. "So yes, Helen Granger, I suppose I am."

"I should tell you that I do not reside in London all the time," Hermione said, wanting to be sure Minerva knew that all she could offer right now was a summer thing. "I spend summers here, and go back to America at the end of August."

Minerva smiled. "Well, I'd hate to designate any potential relationship as a summer fling right off the bat, but as I have to return to the school come the end of August, and really won't have any free time for the following nine months. I'd say let's call in fate, and see where this goes."

"And if it goes really well?" Hermione inquired. "Then we keep in touch over the year, and reconnect next summer?"

"Sounds fair to me," Minerva replied. "Now will you let me buy you a cup of tea or are you going to try and plot out the next twenty years of our lives?"

Hermione pouted. "I just wanted you to know what you were getting into. I'm not the kind of person who just wants a one night stand. If I say yes and you buy me tea, and hopefully ginger biscuits as well, then I trust you will not abuse my undeniable attraction to you?"

"Bloody hell, woman," Minerva said, crossing her arms. "What do you take me for? An adolescent boy?"

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep her grin from developing into full blown out laughter. It was nothing short of incredible to see Minerva like this. "Just checking," she calmly replied.

Minerva huffed. "Have tea with me?" she asked for a third time. "We could plan out the rest of our lives together over those ginger biscuits?"

Hermione chuckled. "That sounds to me to be like third or fourth date conversation. First dates are usually discussions about likes and dislikes, followed by a good snog."

"Well if we only have the summer," Minerva said, taking hold of Hermione's hand and pulling her off the ground where they'd been sitting since their collision. "Then why wait till after tea to snog?"

Before Hermione knew what was happening, Minerva had allowed momentum to pull them together for a kiss, which Hermione responded to with a moan. "You are unbelievable," she moaned.

"I'm just getting started, dear," Minerva purred as she ran her hands along Hermione's bare skinned sides. "How about that tea back at my place?"

Hermione had really not considered how long it might take in the seduction process before things went past snogging. She had been pretty sure it would take a few dates at least, but apparently Minerva was in a bit of a hurry. Older body or not, Hermione realized that if she went back to The Kilns with Minerva now, she would be losing her virginity. Was she ready for that?

"Helen?" Minerva asked huskily, nibbling at the younger woman's neck.

Yes! Hermione thought as her core began to pound. Hell yes she was ready!

Minerva smiled as she read over Helen's most recent letter for the third time. It was nearly Christmas now, and Minerva found the despite the chill in the air and the snow on the ground, her heart was still lost in the summer months when she had, amazingly, fallen in love. The only downside to their relationship, which for the record included a lot of mind blowing sex, was that she was a muggle, and Minerva wasn't sure if or when she could tell the younger woman what her life outside of the summer was. Would Helen reject her for being a witch? Her gaze shifted back to the words on the notebook paper.

My Dearest Minerva,

As much as it pains me to be parted from you, I'm afraid that meeting up over Christmas is impossible. Even if you could somehow magically show up at my apartment with a great red bow on your head, I'd be too bloody busy to give you the time you deserve. I'm sorry, but it looks like we will have to wait till next summer to meet again.

I'm unsure as to if I will be returning to America after next summer's vacation in London. I've put some thought into staying in London, though I have a job offer on the table right now, which would involve a fair bit of traveling. Normally I would not even consider a job like that, but taking the job would be doing a favor for a close friend (a male friend, don't get your sexy black knickers in a twist), who really needs a reliable researcher along on this job. I wish I could tell you more about my work, but I'm afraid that even if we were married, I'm still bound to keep silent about it.

I have a favor to ask of you. My niece, Hermione, recently told me that she's a lesbian. I think she wants to come out to her friends at school, but is unsure how accepted it would be. As she put it 'the sort of people at this school have pretty stupid ideas about what's right or wrong, sometimes'. I figure you'll understand what she meant by that. So the favor…would you talk to her? I have no problem with you telling her about our relationship, if you feel comfortable doing so. If not, I understand. She is still your student, and I could see how it might be awkward for you to tell her that you spent the better part of the summer hols fucking her aunt into oblivion.

Anyway, back to work I go. Write soon, my love.

Helen

Minerva stashed the letter and with a sigh, left her office to seek Hermione Granger out. She would explain to Hermione that Helen had requested she speak with her, and that they had met over the summer, but she sure as hell was not going to tell her student about the…eh-hem.

Minerva was unsurprised to find the sixth year Gryffindor hiding in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, reading some sort of magazine. Hermione shifted, and Minerva saw that the magazine was Transfiguration Today. With a satisfied smirk, she approached the girl. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked up and smiled. "I was just thinking of you, Professor. I was wondering if you'd read this," she said, pointing to the article in question, "and what you thought of the author's ideas regarding shortcuts to becoming an animagis."

Minerva groaned. She had read that one. What a load of troll dung. "I am not sure that the research done for that paper was very well cross referenced," she replied diplomatically. "And while I do know that you and I enjoy debating over articles like this one, there was something else I wished to talk to you about."

Hermione cocked her head. "Alright," she said. "What's up?"

"Firstly, I need to explain that I met your aunt, Helen, over this last summer," Minerva said awkwardly. "We've correspond often since."

Hermione's eyes lit up mischievously. "Right. So then you would be the, I quote, 'most incredible lover on the planet', whom she met over the summer hols?"

Minerva knew her face had gone red. "How did you –" she sputtered.

Hermione tapped her forehead. "I hate to brag, but I am rather intelligent. Also, I'm closer to my aunt than I am to my parents, and she has shared quite a bit about the love of her life."

"Miss Granger," Minerva said, composing herself. "I…"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Professor," Hermione said kindly. "I understand. I expect that Helen asked you to talk to me about my quandary regarding my own personal life."

Minerva nodded. "She said that you were unsure about how people here would react to your… preferences."

"And so your advice would be?" the girl asked politely.

"It's not much different here than in the muggle world," Minerva explained. "Some people are fine with same sex relationships, some people are not. I, for example, keep my own personal preferences under wraps because I don't want the students who have been brought up to think that homosexuality is…unnatural…to be uncomfortable in my class. Your generation is generally more accepting than mine is, so I believe that you would be fairly safe to come out. Misters Potter and Weasley, I suspect, will think no less of you. Many of your other friends I'd expect to be equally understanding."

Hermione nodded. "Well that's good to know. I am ready for Harry and Ron to know, I think. I don't like hiding it from them, especially considering that Ron keeps making attempts to ask me out."

"Do you have your eye on anyone in particular," Minerva inquired quietly. "Or is there someone you are already involved with?"

"As it happens," Hermione said with a small smile. "I also met someone over the summer, though I won't get to see her again till school ends for the year."

"I understand how frustrating that can be," Minerva admitted. "I am looking forward to seeing Helen again when school lets out. On that note, may I ask you something?"

"Of course," Hermione replied with a nod.

"I have not told your aunt that I'm a witch, and by the fact that she referred to Hogwarts as a school for gifted youth, I assume that she does not know you are either."

"I'm not allowed to tell anyone outside of my parents," Hermione confirmed.

"Right. Well, how do you think she might react, if I told her?" Minerva asked her student shyly.

Hermione nodded knowingly. "I'm pretty sure she'd be fine with it."

Minerva sighed. "Well, that's good to know. Thank you, Miss Granger."

Minerva said nothing else as she stood to leave, and nearly reached the portrait leading out of the common room when the sixth year called to her.

"Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes?" she said, turned back.

"You can call me Hermione, you know."

Minerva smiled. "Good evening, Hermione."

Hermione sat on a park bench, in her Helen persona, with Minerva. She would be heading to the Burrow tomorrow, so today was goodbye. "Minerva, I have something I have to tell you. You may actually be rather upset with me, but…"

"You can tell me anything, love," Minerva assured her, taking hold of the younger woman's hand.

Hermione pulled away, and stood, pacing in front of her Professor and lover, praying to God and whoever else might be up there that Minerva was ready to start letting go of this façade. "I'm not who you think I am," she finally whispered. "Helen Granger is a fabricated persona. I am a witch, same as you."

Minerva looked at her dumbly. "If Helen Granger doesn't exist, then how is it that Hermione confirmed your identity?"

"The details of why Hermione has been helping me are between the two of us. Suffice to say she has been assisting in protecting me." Hermione said, carefully choosing her words. She didn't want to lie to Minerva. She had spent the entirety of her existence as Helen carefully choosing her words to avoid that very thing, and she wasn't going to stop now. However, she knew Minerva wasn't ready for the whole truth, but she also knew that in a matter of weeks, she'd be on the run with Harry and Ron and would not be able to send letters to Minerva like she had last term. She didn't want Minerva to think that the woman she loved had just cut her off, but she had to see this through with Harry and Ron. After this war was over, she'd come totally clean, but for now, Minerva would just have to settle for half of the truth. "She will tell you no more than I am, so don't even bother asking her."

"You're a witch?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed.

"Well," Minerva said it a shaky breath. "That saves me the headache of wondering if you'd flip out when I told you I was a witch."

Hermione nodded, understanding Minerva's relief, having known of the fear for nearly a year and not coming up with a single way of how to tell the older woman she didn't need to worry about it, without giving away the truth of her identity. "Minerva, I swear to you that the only thing I have been untruthful about is my identity. Everything I've told you about me, every second of our relationship has been true. I love you more than life itself."

"Why now?" Minerva asked. "Why tell me that you're not who you've claimed to be, if you are not prepared to tell me who you really are?" Any why tell me you're a witch, if you are so intent on keeping your identity a secret?"

Hermione sighed. "I can tell you that it has to do with the war. Very soon, I expect to be on the run, and I cannot promise letters like I could last year. I had to tell you now because I didn't want you to think I'd up and left. I don't want to lose you, Minerva. I want to have a reason to live through this nightmare of a war. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Minerva nodded. "Well, you better damn well not get yourself killed while you're on the run. How would I know if something did happen to you?"

"If something happens to me," Hermione said. "I have entrusted a latter to Hermione which will explain everything. I will not leave you wondering what became of me."

"Why is your identity a secret?" Minerva asked. "Why can't I know? If you love me as much as you say you do, why won't you trust me?"

"It's not an issue of trust, Minerva," Hermione replied, willing her tears to stay. "No one expect Hermione Granger knows the truth of who I am. And she only knows because it was she who fabricated my identity. I cannot tell you more than that. Please believe me when I say that not telling you is for your protection. I am a target of Voldemort –"

"Don't say his name – " Minerva interjected.

"Why not?" Hermione asked. "He's going to try to kill me either way."

Minerva huffed. "What did you do to earn such a high rank on his hit list?"

"It's less about what I've done, and more about a man I chose to repeatedly defend," Hermione replied, thinking about Harry and everything he, Ron, and herself had gone through in the last six years."

"You won't tell me anything else, will you?" Minerva asked quietly.

"No," Hermione replied. "Except that I do love you. I have from the moment I first met you, which was long before that day in the park. I have to go, now."

"I'll wait for you," Minerva promised. "Damn me to hell I know I should be mad at you for all of this, but I love you more than I've ever loved another, and I don't think I could stop if I tried."

Hermione moved forward and planted a searing kiss on Minerva's lips, before stepping back. "Goodbye, my love." she said. Then, she Apparated away.

The battle was over. The war was over. Minerva looked around at the fallen – young, old, Order Members, Death Eaters…she knew she should be reflecting on how many had been lost, or celebrating with those who were still alive. Rather, she was thinking about one person who she was still trying to find the nerve to face.

When Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger had stormed the castle a few hours before, she'd had an epiphany. When she'd met the eyes of one Hermione Granger, the truth she'd spent the last nine months trying to figure out was suddenly quite plain. Helen, her beautiful, wonderful Helen, was Hermione Granger. She had fallen in love with a student. Queasily she realized that she'd taken a sixteen year old student to bed. People went to Azkaban for having sex with a minor.

It had been hours since the realization, and Minerva had thought of little else in that time.

The facts were really quite fuzzy. Did Hermione seduce her by disguising herself and then purposely running into her? Or did she seduce the teenager that day in the park. After all, she had started the flirting. She had invited the woman who called herself Helen back to her house that day.

Did she love Hermione? Could she love Hermione the way that she loved Helen? They were, after all, the same person. Minerva found herself thinking back on the day in class when she'd suspected that Hermione, then in her fourth year, was flirting with her. She'd met Helen a year later. It seemed obvious not that Hermione had carried a torch for her for quite some time before she took any action, which told Minerva that she had considered the consequences. She had thought it through. And if what she'd said last August was true, she really did love her.

Hermione Granger loved her. God, that sounded bazaar, even in her head. That in mind, she found herself accepting it when she heard footsteps, looked up, and saw the woman in question standing there in the doorway of the abandoned classroom she'd retreated to.

"Hi," she whispered.

"You've figured it out?" Hermione asked timidly.

Minerva nodded. "Why, Hermione?"

"I fell in love with you, but I knew that even if I waited till after graduation, than you'd never look at me as anything other than a student," Hermione explained, walking forward slowly. "I used an Aging Potion and a few other means of disguise to turn myself to an older version of the woman who I hoped you could love in return. I hoped that maybe you'd fall in love with Helen, and then when I revealed the truth of who I was, you'd be able to look past my age."

Minerva stood and walked toward the young woman, who despite herself she found uncontrollably in love with. Without saying a word, and closed the gap between them and kissed Hermione with a force that could only have come from a deep love that, as Hermione had assumed, would never have developed had Minerva known who she was at the beginning. She understood why Helen had to exist, and in a way, it made her love Hermione even more, because the young woman in her arms had gone to such lengths to prove herself.

"Marry me?" Minerva whispered into Hermione's ear. "For the love of god, Hermione, I can't stand being away from you anymore. Marry me."

"Yes," Hermione whispered back. "Always yes."

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