Day 1: Time-Turner Experimentation

Day 1: Time-Turner Experimentation

The music thrummed through the walls of the wizarding club, the low lights casting everything in a hazy, seductive glow. Hermione stood at the bar, her mind sharp despite the drink she swirled absently in her hand. She was here on business, after all—investigating traces of Voldemort's influence back in the 1940s. Being an Unspeakable meant she often found herself in unusual places, and this evening was no exception. The mission was dangerous, tampering with timelines always was, but she needed answers.

She didn't expect to find herself so… distracted.

At the far end of the bar stood Minerva McGonagall, though this wasn't the Minerva Hermione knew. This was a much younger version—twenty-something, confident, and far less restrained than the composed professor who had guided Hermione through her years at Hogwarts.

Hermione tried to keep her gaze fixed on her task, scanning the room for any sign of Tom Riddle's early followers, but her eyes kept wandering back to Minerva, who was sipping her drink with sharp, calculating eyes. She was stunning in a way that felt overwhelming—her long dark hair flowed freely down her back, and her robes were far more daring, cut to reveal hints of her toned shoulders.

"Can I help you with something?" a voice cut through Hermione's thoughts.

She blinked and looked up—only to find that Minerva had noticed her staring. Her green eyes were as piercing as ever, and Hermione felt her pulse quicken. She hadn't been this nervous around anyone in years, and certainly not Minerva. But this version of her? She exuded a raw confidence, laced with a fiery temper that simmered just below the surface.

"I—uh, no, I was just—"

"Staring at me?" Minerva interrupted, her brow lifting in a sharp arch. "If you're going to stare, you might as well come over."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. This Minerva didn't bother with pleasantries or polite small talk—she cut straight through the nonsense, and there was something intoxicating about it. Against her better judgment, Hermione slid off her stool and approached, her heart racing faster with each step.

"I didn't mean to intrude," Hermione said, her voice steadier now, though Minerva's presence still made her feel uncharacteristically flustered. "I was just…"

"Admiring me," Minerva finished with a smirk, taking a slow sip of her drink. "You're not the first, and I doubt you'll be the last."

That superiority complex. The cockiness in her tone was clear, but it wasn't entirely unwarranted. Minerva knew she was brilliant, and attractive, and she didn't shy away from either. Hermione could see the early edges of the professor she knew—the intellect, the sharp wit—but without the decades of restraint and experience to temper it. This Minerva was reckless, and Hermione could feel the magnetic pull between them growing stronger with every passing second.

"So, what brings someone like you to a place like this?" Minerva asked, her eyes flickering with curiosity. "You don't exactly seem like the type."

Hermione hesitated. She couldn't exactly explain the truth—that she was here investigating a dark wizard from the future, sent back in time by the Department of Mysteries. Instead, she offered a half-truth. "I'm here on business. Unspeakable business."

Minerva's sharp gaze didn't waver. She cocked an eyebrow, taking another slow sip of her drink, letting the silence stretch between them. "Unspeakable business, is it?" Her voice dripped with skepticism, the edge in her tone unmistakable. "That sounds like the sort of thing someone says when they're trying to be mysterious, hoping it'll sound convincing enough to get them what they want."

Hermione felt her stomach twist. Minerva's sharp intellect was just as intimidating in her youth as it had been when she was Hermione's professor. She wasn't easily fooled, and Hermione knew better than to try lying outright.

"You don't believe me?" Hermione asked, her voice measured, though her pulse quickened under Minerva's piercing scrutiny.

"Not a word of it." Minerva set her drink down with a quiet clink. She crossed her arms, a challenge sparking in her eyes as she leaned in closer. "If you're really here on Unspeakable business, prove it."

Hermione's heart pounded in her chest. She needed to be careful—revealing too much about the future could have disastrous consequences, but Minerva wasn't going to back down without something tangible. And Minerva's mind was sharp enough that the only way to satisfy her was by offering a truth that was dangerous but calculated.

"Fine," Hermione said, lowering her voice as she stepped closer, meeting Minerva's gaze head-on. "You want proof? I know where the time-turners are stored. The room where they're kept."

That got Minerva's attention. Her posture stiffened, and the slight amusement in her expression vanished, replaced by something colder, more alert. "Go on."

Hermione took a deep breath, her mind racing as she decided how much to reveal. "The time-turners are located on the ninth level of the Ministry of Magic, behind a hidden door in the Department of Mysteries. The room is only accessible to those who know exactly where it is, and even then, only a select few are trusted with the knowledge. I know you'd know this… because you used a time-turner when you were at Hogwarts."

Minerva's eyes widened for the briefest moment before her expression hardened again, but it was enough for Hermione to know she'd struck the right chord. Minerva tried to mask her surprise, but the slight flicker of recognition was there.

"And how would you know that?" Minerva asked, her voice low and dangerous now. "That's not public knowledge."

Hermione held her gaze steadily, feeling the weight of the moment. Minerva wasn't one to be easily convinced, but there was a way to thread the needle here, to give her just enough truth to make her believe it, without tipping over the edge of revealing too much about the future.

"Remember," Hermione said, her voice calm but firm, "I'm an Unspeakable. We know who has accessed time-turners, in any era. Every witch or wizard who's used one is recorded in the Department of Mysteries—names, dates, and purposes. Your name is there, Minerva. I know because I've read it."

Minerva's expression shifted slightly, the intensity in her eyes deepening, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn't speak for a moment, her mind clearly working through what Hermione had just said. Hermione could almost see the gears turning behind her sharp gaze, as Minerva weighed the truth of her words. The skepticism was still there, but it was softening, giving way to curiosity.

"Go on," Minerva finally said, her voice quieter now, but still laced with caution. "If you know so much, what exactly do you know about my use of the time-turner?"

Hermione took a small step closer, lowering her voice so that only Minerva could hear. "You used it in your sixth year at Hogwarts. It was kept quiet, of course, but you were given access to one because of your academic load—advanced Transfiguration and Charms, if I remember correctly." She paused, watching Minerva's face for a reaction. "You and I have more in common than you might think."

Minerva's eyes flickered with surprise, and this time she didn't try to hide it. Her mouth opened slightly, as if she was about to speak, but she stopped herself, her expression guarded but intrigued. She stared at Hermione, her gaze searching for any sign of deception, but when she found none, her shoulders relaxed just the tiniest bit.

"And you?" Minerva asked, her tone softer, more curious now. "You've used a time-turner as well, I assume?"

Hermione nodded. "My third year. Like you, it was for academics. I took on more than the usual number of classes, and I was given permission to use a time-turner to manage the workload. But that's not all I've used one for."

Minerva's lips curled into a faint, amused smile, her eyebrows lifting slightly. "And now you're using it for… what? Unspeakable business? Hunting down dark wizards?"

Hermione forced herself to keep her composure, knowing that Minerva's sharp wit could easily see through any hesitation. But she had to throw her off the trail—she couldn't risk revealing the full truth about her mission. Not yet.

"No," Hermione said, attempting a nonchalant shrug, "my department is focused more on research… brains, tentacles, that sort of thing. I don't deal with time travel at all. We deal with magical anomalies, not dark wizards." Her voice was steady, but inside she felt a pang of guilt. She was lying to one of the most formidable witches she'd ever known, and it didn't sit well with her.

Minerva's eyebrows arched, and a small, knowing smile played at the corners of her lips. She stepped closer, her gaze never leaving Hermione's. "Is that so? Because from where I'm standing, you're not exactly giving off the 'researcher of tentacles' vibe. And let me tell you, the Department of Mysteries should really teach their Unspeakables to be better liars."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Minerva silenced her with a quiet chuckle, her eyes glittering with amusement. "Relax," Minerva said, her voice low and smooth. "I've learned enough. I don't need the whole truth. But I am curious…" She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing with interest. "How much more do you know about me?"

The question hung between them, charged with an intensity that made Hermione's pulse quicken. She could feel Minerva's presence so acutely now, the subtle challenge in her tone, the closeness of her body. Minerva's dark eyes gleamed with an unreadable emotion, and Hermione felt herself struggling to stay composed.

"Not that much," Hermione finally admitted, her voice soft but honest. "Just… enough."

Minerva's smirk deepened, a predatory gleam in her eyes as she took another step closer. The space between them was nearly nonexistent now, and Hermione could feel the warmth of Minerva's body, the faint brush of her robes against her own. "Would you like to know more?"

Hermione's breath hitched as Minerva leaned in slightly, her lips hovering just inches away from hers. She could feel the heat of Minerva's breath, warm and teasing against her lips, sending a shiver down her spine. The air between them was electric, the tension thick and heavy, and Hermione's mind raced as she struggled to focus on anything other than the intoxicating closeness of Minerva's body.

"Would you?" Minerva's voice was barely a whisper, her breath ghosting over Hermione's lips, the proximity leaving Hermione dizzy with anticipation.

Hermione's heart pounded in her chest, her thoughts spinning as she stared into Minerva's eyes. There was an undeniable allure to the question, to the tantalizing offer Minerva was making without words. She was daring Hermione to step closer, to fall deeper into whatever was happening between them.

"I—" Hermione hesitated, her mind flashing back to her mission, the reason she was here, the danger that came with revealing too much about the future. But that logical part of her was quickly losing its grip in the face of Minerva's magnetic pull.

Minerva's lips curled into a slight, knowing smile as she read Hermione's hesitation. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with intent. "You don't have to be so careful with me."

The words, coupled with the closeness of Minerva's body, shattered what little resolve Hermione had left. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Minerva's in a soft, tentative kiss, the contact sending a jolt of heat through her body.

Minerva responded immediately, her hands moving to Hermione's waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. There was nothing tentative about the way Minerva kissed her—it was fierce, confident, filled with the same fiery intensity that seemed to pulse through Minerva's every movement.

Hermione's hands found their way to Minerva's shoulders, gripping the fabric of her robes as she melted into the kiss, her mind clouded with the intoxicating mixture of desire and anticipation. The heat between them built quickly, the tension that had been simmering between them from the moment they'd met now igniting into something far more dangerous.

Minerva's lips moved against hers with a demanding intensity, her body pressing Hermione back against the wall, and Hermione let out a soft gasp, her breath hitching as Minerva's hands roamed freely over her body. The kiss was filled with a hunger that Hermione hadn't expected, a raw need that left her breathless and aching for more.

Minerva broke the kiss for just a moment, her lips hovering over Hermione's, her eyes dark with desire. "Still want to know more?" she whispered, her voice low and teasing, as her fingers gently traced the line of Hermione's jaw.

Hermione couldn't stop the small, breathless laugh that escaped her. "I think I might be in over my head," she whispered, her voice shaky with anticipation.

Minerva's lips curled into a wicked smile as she leaned in again, her mouth brushing against Hermione's neck, sending a shiver down her spine. "Good," she murmured against Hermione's skin, her breath warm and teasing. "I like it that way."

Hermione's pulse raced, her mind swirling in the heady mix of desire and tension. The way Minerva moved, the confidence in her touch—it left Hermione helpless to resist. She could feel Minerva's breath against her neck, her lips grazing her skin in a way that made her body hum with anticipation.

"Let's go somewhere more private," Minerva whispered, her voice low and husky as she pulled back slightly, her eyes gleaming with intent. "Unless, of course, you'd rather stay here, where anyone could walk in…"

Hermione swallowed hard, her heart pounding. The idea of being caught, the sheer recklessness of it all, sent a thrill through her, but there was no way she could think clearly in this crowded club. Minerva's offer, her unspoken promise of what was to come, was impossible to resist.

"I—" Hermione's voice caught in her throat, her mind still spinning from the intensity of Minerva's presence. "Yes, somewhere more private."

Minerva's lips curved into a satisfied smirk, and before Hermione could say another word, Minerva took her hand, and with a quick, decisive movement, they Disapparated.

The world shifted around them, and before Hermione could catch her breath, they were standing in a dimly lit bedroom. Minerva's bedroom, she realized, her eyes adjusting to the warm glow of the space. The walls were lined with shelves of books, the bed large and inviting in the center of the room, the air heavy with the lingering scent of lavender and something uniquely Minerva.

Minerva didn't waste a second. She turned to Hermione, her hands moving to the clasp of Hermione's robes with swift precision, her fingers deft as she began to undo the fabric. Hermione's breath hitched as the cool air of the room hit her skin, the sensation of Minerva's fingers brushing against her making her body tremble with anticipation.

"I've been waiting for this," Minerva murmured, her voice low and filled with heat as she pushed Hermione's robes off her shoulders, letting them fall to the floor in a soft heap. "Since the moment I saw you."

Hermione's heart raced, her body responding to every word, every touch. She reached for Minerva's robes, her fingers shaking slightly as she undid the clasp, eager to feel more of her, to close the distance between them. Minerva's eyes gleamed with approval as Hermione's hands moved over her, the fabric of her robes falling away to reveal the smooth, pale skin beneath.

Minerva's lips found hers again, fierce and demanding, and Hermione melted into the kiss, her hands roaming over Minerva's body, feeling the heat of her skin, the strength in her movements. Minerva pressed her body against Hermione's, guiding her toward the bed with a steady, confident pressure.

As the backs of Hermione's legs hit the edge of the bed, Minerva pushed her down onto the soft sheets, her body moving over hers with a fluid grace. Hermione gasped as Minerva's hands slid up her thighs, the feeling of her fingers sending jolts of pleasure through her with every touch. Minerva's gaze was dark, intense, as she leaned over Hermione, her breath hot against her skin.

"You're mine tonight," Minerva whispered, her voice low and filled with a commanding edge that made Hermione's heart race even faster. "I'm going to make you feel everything."

Hermione's breath hitched, her body arching into Minerva's touch as her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear, teasingly slow. The anticipation was almost unbearable, every nerve in Hermione's body alive with need as Minerva's fingers grazed her most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through her.

Hermione's breath hitched, her body arching into Minerva's touch as her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear, teasingly slow. The anticipation was almost unbearable, every nerve in Hermione's body alive with need as Minerva's fingers grazed her most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through her.

Minerva's smirk deepened as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of Hermione's underwear, tugging them down with deliberate slowness. Hermione's breath came in shallow gasps, her mind struggling to focus as the cool air of the room hit her exposed skin. Minerva's hands were firm but unhurried, savoring every inch as she pulled the fabric away and discarded it onto the floor.

Her fingers returned to Hermione's body, teasing the edge of her thighs, the sensation sending shivers up Hermione's spine. Minerva leaned in close, her breath warm against Hermione's ear as she whispered something—an incantation, soft and familiar, though Hermione's mind was too fogged with desire to place it.

Immediately, Hermione felt the difference. Minerva's fingers, already skilled and deliberate, began to vibrate, the magic coursing through them with a low, steady hum. The sensation rippled through her, starting at her thigh where Minerva had been teasingly caressing, and sending a pulse of heat straight to her core.

Hermione's breath hitched as Minerva's fingers moved upward, trailing along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, slow and torturous. Her body arched slightly, her legs spreading wider in silent invitation, every nerve alive and aching for Minerva's touch.

Minerva's lips curled into a smirk as she watched Hermione's reaction, her fingers finally sliding up to her clit, grazing it with just enough pressure to make Hermione's entire body shudder. The vibration sent sharp jolts of pleasure through her, the sensation amplified by the magic humming through Minerva's fingers.

"I'm good at Charms," Minerva whispered, her voice filled with dark amusement as she pressed her lips to Hermione's neck, sucking gently on the skin there. "Thought I'd show you."

Hermione let out a soft moan, her hands clutching at the sheets beneath her as Minerva's fingers circled her clit, the vibrations increasing in intensity with every movement. It was almost too much, the way Minerva teased her, drawing out the pleasure until Hermione was trembling with need.

Then, without warning, Minerva shifted. Her fingers slipped lower, pausing just at Hermione's entrance, teasingly slow as she let the vibrations buzz against her. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her body tense with anticipation as Minerva hovered there, her lips brushing against her ear.

"Ready for more?" Minerva whispered, her voice low, dripping with intent.

Hermione could barely manage a nod, her body aching for more, for the fullness she knew was coming. "Please…"

Minerva smiled against her skin, and in one swift, confident motion, she slid two fingers inside her, the vibrating magic now deep within her. Hermione gasped, her body arching off the bed at the sudden sensation, her muscles clenching around Minerva's fingers as the vibration sent shockwaves through her.

As quickly as she had entered her with two fingers, she added a third finger, pushing deeper, stretching Hermione in a way that was both intense and overwhelming. Hermione's breath came in ragged gasps, her body struggling to adjust to the sudden fullness, the stretch unlike anything she'd felt before. It was ambitious, demanding more from her body than any of her exes ever had, but it wasn't just the physicality—it was the control, the way Minerva moved with such deliberate precision.

"You can take it," Minerva murmured, her voice soft but commanding as she kissed the side of Hermione's neck, her fingers working deeper inside her. "I know you can."

Hermione moaned, her body trembling with the intensity of it all, the vibrating magic driving her closer to the edge with every thrust. Minerva's thumb found her clit again, applying just the right amount of pressure, the combination of her fingers inside her and the vibrations on her clit creating an overwhelming wave of pleasure that built higher and higher.

Minerva's movements quickened, her fingers thrusting deeper, the vibrations intensifying as her thumb circled Hermione's clit. Hermione could barely breathe, her body completely at Minerva's mercy as the pleasure spiraled out of control, her mind clouded with nothing but the sensation of Minerva inside her.

"You're so tight," Minerva whispered, her voice rough with desire as her fingers stretched Hermione wider with each thrust. "So perfect… I can feel how close you are."

Hermione whimpered, her hands fisting the sheets as the pleasure became too much to handle. Every nerve in her body was on fire, her muscles clenching around Minerva's fingers as the vibration seemed to amplify the intensity of every movement.

Minerva's thumb pressed harder against her clit, her fingers thrusting with a steady, relentless rhythm, and Hermione felt herself teetering on the brink, the pleasure building inside her like a storm ready to break.

"Let go," Minerva whispered, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear, her voice a low, seductive growl. "Come for me, beautiful."

That was all it took. Hermione's body tensed, her breath catching in her throat as the orgasm crashed over her, a wave of raw, unrelenting pleasure that left her gasping and moaning, her body convulsing around Minerva's fingers. The intensity of the vibrating magic inside her made the release feel endless, her muscles clenching tightly around Minerva as she rode out the powerful climax.

Minerva didn't stop, her fingers continuing their relentless rhythm as she worked Hermione through every pulse of pleasure, her thumb circling her clit with expert precision. Hermione could barely breathe, her mind completely lost to the overwhelming sensation, the orgasm dragging on longer and harder than she'd ever experienced before.

When it finally subsided, Hermione collapsed back onto the bed, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, her body trembling with the aftershocks. Minerva slowly withdrew her fingers, her touch gentle now as she pressed a soft kiss to Hermione's forehead.

"You're incredible," Minerva murmured, her voice soft but filled with admiration as she looked down at Hermione, her eyes dark with satisfaction. "But I'm not done with you yet. I know a lot of charms that could keep you busy all night."

Hermione's breath caught, her heart still racing as she realized that the night was far from over.