Disclaimer: JKR rules!. She has the rights to Harry Potter and so does Warner Bross. This plot line and Ernest, is Noppoh's and mine (madie080802) a.k.a WineChocolate.

A/N: I just wanted to say, thanks for your support and friendship Noppoh, you are one amazing girl. Guys, she help me shaped this chapter, and with out her, I don't think it would be as pretty. Also we both fell silly for Ernest's loving ways, and we were inspired by the songs: "The Blower's Daughter" by Damien Rice. "The lighting Strike" By, Snow Patrol and "Really Loved a Woman"By, Bryan Adams. Hope you like it, and don't forget to leave a review.

Diagon Alley. London, England. 21 June 2001. 11:00 am.

Summer Vacation was finally here, and the Headmistress found herself staring with curiosity at the Welcoming Sign from the Periodical, "The Quibbler".

She had a twinkle in her eye, she was dressed to impress, wearing her beautiful bottle green tartan dress robes, her best hat, purse and her black pumps. Funny thing, people never knew that she could walk the catwalk and dance all in one. She even dabbed on a bit of red lip gloss, and sprayed her orange blossoms perfume. She adjusted her specs, took a hold of her handbag - the miniaturized memoirs felt like an overdue release for her soul - and as though she was going in for a confession at church, she smiled with wicked intent. Confidently, she stepped in.

In the distance a man stared at the lady with her beautiful glossed lips, and like a serpent that recognizes a potential tasty morsel, he waited. He smiled as his memory took him back to one of his first lessons in life.

Patience was one of the virtues, that was imposed on all the members of the house of Salazar Slytherin. He hated it, but in time, he learned how to school his features, his body language, smile, even though he wanted to rip the next man into shreds, always answered with a nod in a modulated voice. Anything else was below him. He played the role, under the rules, and envied the free nature of his peers, from the opposing house Gryffindor.

He met her at the train, on their journey to Hogwarts. She wasn't even pretty, but she had a light in her dark eyes that struck him numb. He could barely swallow, and she blushed, and nodded in salute.

He was going to say something, but then a second year laughed at them. He turned to the source, it was Tom Riddle, who told young Ernest to follow him. While he turned to the voice of the newcomer, his original person of interest felt the double rejection. With a dignified air, she walked away. Something broke in young Ernest that day, later, he would realize it was his heart.

Years went by, and she grew, to the world she was a plain swot, but there was something still bothering him. Her eyes continued to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, deep black, like a dark ocean, her voice full of command, her brain power making everybody look like a moron, and her prowess at transfiguration, shocking. He wanted to hate her, but couldn't, not entirely, and then he developed a fascination for another figure, Albus Dumbledore.

Then that fated night in which Minerva and him were together. In that amazing menage à trois with her and Dumbledore, as a result, he lost his virginity. It all altered his soul, forever.

Ernest sighed. No, it's a useless feeling, regrets were always a waste of time. Now he realized he had loved her all along, if only he hadn't been so stupid in his younger years.

He asked for the obliviation, he loved the pictures of a faceless teenager Minnie, and a dignified Albus Dumbledore. He couldn't hate Minerva, nor Albus, nor any other Gryffindor after that night, not really. So he became the supporter of muggle borns, and a fierce fighter for acts and laws that protected magical creatures. He was hired by the DOM, and because of his natural talent as a human lie detector, he became an asset as an Unspeakable.

Tom Riddle then decided to change his name and start his hate campaign against muggles, and muggle-loving wizards, calling them blood traitors.

Ernest went on a mission to Egypt for the Order, and was ambushed by rebel locals. He barely made it home, and again he was attacked, though this time by Voldemort himself. Ernest killed all of his followers, still Voldemort hit him with a Cruciatus for over ten minutes. His elf blew up the apartment, both saving his master's life and thwarting Voldemort.

Ernest was neutralized in the process, and was later taken into St Mungo's as a John Doe.

Dumbledore assumed him dead.

He broke the news to Minerva, who went insane with grief in private, but like a good Gryff, wore a mask of stoic bravery.

Back in May of 1998, the final battle and the aftermath caused chaos to the organization of the personnel and patients at St Mungo's. The demand was too much, and many of the existing patients had to be reallocated, including Ernest.

He was sent to Avignon, and it was there that something odd happened. A Druid healer took special interest, he told the personnel at the French magical hospital that he needed to heal Ernest, the mother Goddess had sent for him, to intervene for the unknown patient.

The magical healers decided to agree, and then the miracle took place right in front of all the non believers. Ernest was back! Funny thing was, that the last thought, before the wizard succumbed to the aggressor Voldemort, was "Minerva."

The Druid spoke to the confused man:

"Your brain was damaged by dark magic, plus a powerful obliviation was in place. I took care of it, by the will of the Mother Goddess, you were pieced back together... do you know who you are?"

"I'm an Idiot, I should have married her… how long have I been out? What year is this?" he asked in a powerful baritone voice. His deep green eyes, shone like emerald fire. His posture though feeble, turned to commanding. Everyone realized, by the shift of his demeanor, that this was a powerful wizard, and he was back in the land of the living.

A healer replied in a small voice: "It's the 19 June of 1998, um, what is your name?"

"Ernest, Ernest Finch Fletchley."

"Mr Finch Fletchley, who is the woman you were talking about just now?" asked one of the young healers.

"Minerva McGonagall," answered Ernest.

"The English Heroine of the war, and Headmistress of Hogwarts?" Inquired a gobsmacked healer.

Ernest nodded and added:

"Yes, her."

Now, Ernest waited, like a good little mamba snake, for his prime target. A powerful Lioness, wearing that glamour, that large set of robes, her pointy hat and those ruby red lips. It was okay to wait, he knew, today was a good day for hunting. Good day indeed.

Minerva McGonagall was greeted by the aloof and very creative Luna Lovegood, in the main office of the Quibbler, and the two exchanged a hug, after all, the two survived a war, fought fiercely against the enemy, and as fellow warriors knew and respected each other's prowess.

Minerva was an admirer of the life decisions made by Luna Lovegood, she went to get studies validated in the muggle system, and as it turns, Miss Lovegood was a hidden genius. It took her one year to complete her academic leveling to continue to university and start with journalism.

Because of her travels with her father, she was able to gather respect with her post war pieces, and helped the voices of the victims of war to be heard, the concentration camps formed by the pink monster Umbridge were exposed, the clearing of the names before and after the war, of Harry Potter and of the Brain behind the Golden Trio Hermione J. Granger.

Around that time, the Daily Prophet was running low in popularity. That was until the very backstabbing nature of one Ronald Bilius Weasley became news, and was confirmed by a photographic exposé by one Rita Skeeter.

The news article that made everyone shiver in regret was the graphic tale of Severus Tobias Snape. Love and Loss of the Hero in Disguise. With the help of memory photos, and his final account of how he sacrificed the Headmaster Dumbledore, by the very design and machinations of Albus, made McGonagall clench the periodical in fury.

Looking back, Minerva smiled with nostalgia, she omitted in her memoirs, mourning her past lovers, no one knew, except for Filius Flitwick, of her tears. The charms master was a close friend, and both colleagues respected each other's privacy. The one time he questioned about her health was because her glamour charm was failing.

After the war, very few knew why McGonagall wept and went into a mourning period for over a year, no one questioned too much. It was the end of the conflict, and the aftermath left too many casualties, so another woman crying was nothing out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, the School was being pieced together again.

Days after the new rebuilt, Hogwarts was inaugurated, the School received a life size sculpture of a smiling Severus Snape, from a generous and anonymous source. On its base, as a reference, the monument had a photograph of a young genius smirking. The people were stunt to see a wizard picture, in which he was smiling like that. It was only after looking at the magical image, that the statue made sense, and with his name cleared, the sacrifice and loss, became evident.

When Minerva saw the statue she disappeared for three days into the forbidden forest. Only the elders guessed the reasons why the Headmistress McGonagall was so upset, however, she being so secretive of her ways, had many wondering about her small leave.

Later, the board of governors of Hogwarts, received a weak clarification for the behaviour of the transfiguration mistress and her disappearance, she made a small offering to the heavens in an ancient ritual, in a shrine located in the deep of the forbidden forest. Only one brave soul reached out in moral support, Filius Flitwick.

Inside the Headmistress office, Filius spoke for the first time, like a close friend "You were lovers, weren't you? To both Dumbledore and Severus?"

Tears rolled over McGonagall's cheeks and Filius added: "Your glamour is failing..." Minerva snapped her fingers and removed the glamour, and Filius swore "Merlin's saggy balls! Minerva, is that really you?!... those lucky bastards!... but I thought Dumbledore was queer?"

Minerva laughed and then wept again. "You are so youthful and breathtakingly beautiful!... those utter bastards!"

Minerva laughed and added in a whisper:

"Stop it Filius, this beauty has caused me much trouble… Albus knew, but could not influence me, because I had leverage on him, not the other way around. The two of us shared a lover at the same time, and both that lover and I were in our teens, when the menage à trois took place… so he stopped being gay to get into the play... and believe me, later, at some points on our lives, we complied to nature and need. But I knew, and he knew, it was just a scratch that needed to be attended to… Albus was selfish, couldn't bare to be vulnerable, and believe me, he encased himself worse than a tortoise… it didn't surprise me to find out that Gellert began his campaign against muggles, to see if he could shake the shell out of his former lover, Albus"... "however, by feuding the two in question, in their collective madness, they altered history… stupid isn't it?, the real reason of so much hate? all of it, because Albus Dumbledore was afraid of intimacy, and not of Gellert Grindelwald..."

Minerva wept again. Filius took her hand and patted it. The Charms Master waited. He then asked: "What about Severus?"

Minerva smiled with her eyes full of unshed tears, she replied: "It was in the summer of 88, when I took that picture that is at the base of the statue. It was just before we parted. I was going to keep the shot as a memory, but the editor snatched it, and it made the cover of Liquid Magic. The anonymous benefactor must have had the image close, and commissioned the piece that reminds me of my lost Severus… We never got together again, and I was so angry at him… just like the rest of the ones who fought in the final battle defending the castle, and he, he lied and cheated, to keep us safe… and I, I called him, God!, I called him a coward!"

Minerva sobbed, and covered her face as she wailed in fury and pain.

Filius got close and embraced her. He whispered to the crying formidable female in his grasp: "But you made him happy, there was always a strange twinkle in his eye, when he made wagers come the Quidditch season and the House cup… and how can I forget the way he made you blush every time he offered soup in that summer of 88?" Minerva laughed and said:

"I was such and Idiot Filius..." Flitwick stopped the self deprecation and added: "No Minerva, the two of them were amazing performers. Albus was a Bastard and Severus was an Idiot, and the two of them un-deserving to have such a wondrous creature/woman. Stupid to not trust you, and love you, like you deserved?… out of the two, you couldn't make one… and believe me, if I was the one uncovering the Selkie in the Prefect's bathroom fifty years ago?, I would have married you, alas I was married at the time, and still am… we cannot change the past, but live with our decisions. Don't blame yourself Minerva, and please? don't waste more precious tears on the morons, alright?" Minerva nodded, and smiled. Filius gasped and then shrugged and said to the headmistress: "Now I'm going to get back to my chamber, take a cold shower and make love to the missus, Selkie blood has a funny effect on half goblins, excuse me Headmistress."

Minerva shakes her head, Filius was right, too many losses, she needed to continue, and today was a new day.

The transfiguration mistress decided to trust Luna Lovegood to publish her memoirs and come out of the closet as a half breed magical, just as she retired from the world, and live the rest of her life continuing her hobby as a freelance photo journalist with Luna Lovegood or just disappearing, she wasn't certain, however, she would not return to Hogwarts.

Today was the first step to her revelation day, and she was relieved. She stepped out of the Quibbler offices, and it was then she was greeted by a voice:

"Minerva? Minerva McGonagall?"

"That is former Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts, and you are?"

"I'm the one you should have punched, then drowned and then sent back to the Snake's den, remember me?... or maybe the picture of my ...?"

He was interrupted by a wail and a bone breaking hug. "Oh my God, that lying conniving old wretched goat told me you died!"

In the arms of this man, Minerva felt like she had recovered the sound of her heartbeat.

Ernest silently laughed and then, tears rolled over his face. She couldn't be this old, neither could he. He would get angry later, later he would personally go to the tomb, unearth the body of that bastard old coot, and spit on it... later.

Minerva and her beautiful perfume of orange blossoms brought back, with just a touch, sensation to his blood.

It was then, that Ernest noticed that Minnie's hair started to become dark, ebony black and her face was losing the wrinkles. Crap!

Her glamour was failing. Without a moment to lose, he kissed her, and side apparated in one crack.

Just as the two disappeared from sight, a camera shot is heard, and then the Magical Paparazzi yelled out in frustration. The camera is swiped, with a swift Accio from his fingers and it landed on the grasp of Luna Lovegood. She smiled sweetly and asked: "You want it back?" The photographer nodded and Luna replied: "Let's do business, how much do you have on you?...tell me, minus the last shot, and we may have a deal… you have ten seconds."

In a different part of London, in a lavish apartment, the wards made noise as Minerva lands in the arms of her old lover. While the kiss extends, she doesn't mind, she has missed his skin, she has missed his breath, she has missed him, until this embrace, denial was firmly rooted, now her soul was homeward.

An ancient elf appears, and when he sees that his master is embracing a gorgeous young female creature, he raises an eyebrow and asks:

"Is master alright?"

"Never better, old friend."

The house elf nods and walks away, as the two look at each other, in wonder. Decades of absence erased with tears of happiness. Minerva stares at Ernest, in his green eyes she locates that intense bright look. No longer full of false apathy, but the gaze of a warrior that has returned home. She wonders if he is truly looking at her, or if he is caught like her in a moment of memory.

Sweet Merlin, she had been such a fool! Why hadn't she looked for him? Why had she simply taken Dumbledore's word for it? A raid, a blown up house, no body? Had Albus even tried to locate him? That fool of a man! Everything for the 'Greater Good'. Along the way he forgot the value of a human life!

Ernest extends his hand, and caresses her cheek. She leans into his touch, savouring the feel, remembering his stroke, that one night in the Prefect's bathroom. She's surprised by the strength of her feelings, in harmony to love. She momentarily wonders about her reticence as a foolish teenager. Then again she was an adolescent, she was supposed to be immature, and now like a river returning to its natural path, adoration guided the old lovers back into each other's arms.

With a sigh, Minerva nuzzles his palm, his scent still familiar, even after all this time. He was the bane of her existence back at Hogwarts. She knew he loved her, why hadn't she realized she loved him back? No regrets, if there was a lesson she took to heart, it is that events happened at the right time, and really, there was no better moment than the present for this old flame.

After their Hogwarts years, when Tom Riddle made his first appearance and the Order was formed, their backstabbing had turned into banter. Looking back at it now, she remembered looking forward to their encounters, to their battle of wits.

They had lost so much time, too many years. But now they had found each other again. Now she realized he was her soulmate. Now she could allow herself to recognize she loved him. Never again would she let him go.

Every bit of Ernest's withered skin began to glow when Minerva responded to his touch. He didn't care whether it's the sun setting or the moon rising, he was with her, and she with him.

She knows that she looks no older than thirty five years. She has been frozen in that age for a long time. She has been young for too many decades, but now she wanted to feel like a teen and cherish this lover who was lost by war, and obliviation. They deserve happiness.

Ernest sees Minerva's dark eyes, her lovely black lustrous hair, her fragrant fair skin and her voluptuous body, covered by ridiculously large dress robes. He whispers "I'm not that young anymore, I don't want to fail you." Minerva swallows with difficulty, and replies: "I don't want the young Ernest, I want this Ernest in front of me, I need your touch, because all I need is you."

Ernest tears up, and pulls her close, whispering in her ear. "I thought I was never going to be happy… I am grateful though, you exist..." Minerva kissed him before he could swear on his life and magic.

Ernest laughed, once the reason of her actions and quick kiss sank in. Minerva stopped to raise an eyebrow at his laughter. He denied and added: "Clever, clever lioness."

Minerva smiled, blushed and added in a whisper: "Now Ernest, don't talk with your mouth full." Before Ernest could question, she took his face in her hands, and kissed him like he was made of chocolate. Ernest felt like he cared less about being old, and decided that since she was a wild feline, he needed to stroke and feel her.

The first thing on his list was to neutralize the claws. He wordlessly divested her, and Minerva smiled in complicity, amazed at his suave and effective transition from a gentle host into a seductive captor.

She was curious about what he was planning. Before she could investigate further, Ernest whispered into her her ear: "Petrificus Pars" Minerva was partially immobilized, and he transfigured ropes that uncoiled like living serpents, and bonded the transfiguration mistress to the chaise longue. Ernest smiled in victory, and winked. "Gotcha." He transfigured the chair into a four poster bed, and accommodated her head on a soft pillow.

He added, "Do you have any idea how long I have been dreaming about capturing the legendary Minerva McGonagall, any idea, at all?"

Minerva was speechless, however, before she could spout a list of insults, Ernest continued with his monologue:

"The magical world is full of idiots, not one seized your attention for more than a couple of seconds, and what kind of imbecile decides to investigate a magical plant, and ignore the very fountain of pleasure in between his wife's legs, your legs?... He deserved to die!... one is queer, but doesn't want to let go of you, and numbs your judgement… the other decides to work alongside you"… He smiles just like a basilisk, sensing blood. In a playful tone he adds as though it's child's play:

"Oh Minerva, don't look so surprised, my darling, I'm a Slytherin after all...I too got hold of the article written by miss Lovegood. And while everyone was mourning the loss of the noble Potions Master, you disappeared for three days into the forbidden forest, and on your return, made a statement to that insipid board of Governors, that you were paying your respects to the fallen hero?... and, Oh so suddenly, after that mysterious statue paying homage to him, arrived to Hogwarts?... Oh, and by the way I was bluffing" ..."but now judging by your demeanor?, turning a lovely shade of crimson and gaping at my hypothesis?, Well, it confirms my theory... you had another lover."

Ernest whispered to her face, looking straight into her eyes: "Was it Severus Snape? The youngest potions master in a century, that made the cover of "Liquid Magic?, years ago?"...

He takes a breath, raises his wand and says in a low voice said: "Accio" a copy of said magazine, flew like an odd paper bird into his hands.

He smiled and displayed the cover to her, taking into account her body language, her trembling lip, the moisture in her eyes, all of it confirmed his theory, and he denies while adding:

"God what an idiot!" He audibly sighs, and continues in a monotone voice.

"Like the good, tragic hero, he kept his distance, instead of claiming loyalty and love to you. To the one that bested so many of us bigots… Even that bastard Tom Riddle"... He laughs. "At transfiguration!" He throws the magazine away.

I really don't understand you Minerva… being such a loving female, it must be in your magical creature lineage really, you love so much, and usually an array of dim wits… It hurts to understand the reason why Selkies are so rare"... "They give their affections to simpletons that cannot appreciate a gem, including myself…. no matter," He smiles with nostalgia and continues.

"My dear, dear Minerva, you even went as far as to becoming a gentle, loving, mother figure, to that poor child of sacrifice Harry Potter… And none of them, not a single one, was able to lift your enchantment… Well, fuck them all… their loss is my gain! I'm a bastard, I'm a pervert, I cheat, I have killed to save my life"... "I will have you, and I won't share"... "You had fifty-five years of unabashed freedom, but today I claim you."

Minerva couldn't contain her tears as his mature deep baritone voice reverberated in her soul. Before she could agree or deny, Ernest kneeled next to her, got a hold of her hair and kissed her fiercely.

Like a cry waiting to be raised to the universe, the Selkie wept, as she welcomed his flavor into her mouth while his hands explored. She wanted more of his skin touching, and the fabric of his robes rubbed. The harshness of his cloth, and the heat underneath it, all of it, slowly eroding her sanity. As she complained in quiet moans, Ernest almost lost control. He smiled to himself, oh she was a minx, but he thought she was perfect.

She tried making sense of his touch, but the wool interrupted her tactile awareness and he teased, drew away, mercilessly stalling the resurfacing of her sanity. His lips left her own, and she immediately missed their warmth and the soft, playful suction. She followed his gray haired head, as those sensuous lips trailed to her chest, over her neck, sucking lightly at her pulse. His tongue was like a wet, single minded digit, brushing over her nipples, up to her shoulders. He tickled her with his unshaven face, making her squirm, and moan in delightful agony. His almost inaudible chuckles only made the tension in her body build, and he grinned:

"It hurts doesn't it?" She nodded and he continued kissing. After a playful silence he added. "Imagine?, I had to wait in the shadows, until today, in agony… while you flaunted your love for green. Made me wonder if you even remembered me?... or looked at my picture, oh my, open up dear, let me see if you are as wet as I am hard?... oh darling are you blushing?... don't think I'm ready to bury myself in you, just yet… but don't fret, oh, look at you?... perfect and so dignified… did the snake got your tongue?... oh, I know, I know… you want to scratch my eyes out… but wait here, I got something for you."

He got up, came back with a camera,and said: "Remember this?" and took a picture. He got a tripod, mounted the camera and angled it. As if he were a master painter, he smiled at her. Minerva felt the blush bloom all over her skin. That sneaky serpent! "Oh," Minerva thought "he is perfect."

Ernest got a couple of cushions, took a glance at his flawless captive, she was enticing, and he loved her dark rebellious gaze. He decided to rub a bit of salt, so to speak, to her wounded ego, he did a flick and a swish, with his wand, after he recited "Wingardium Leviosa" to her hips and stuffed the two cushions underneath, elevating her hips.

Releasing the Leviosa enchantment, he silently cast a different spell, that, in turn, elongated the existing ropes on her feet while the bindings on her wrists acquired a second layer.

The cords on her feet though, glided on her skin, like vines slowly wrapping a double column, till they reached her thighs, and with a flick of his wrist, Minerva felt her knees elevate and part her limbs, in acceptance to the magical will of her courter. Ernest looked entranced.

Minerva noticed how her captor took sight of her exposed vulva with adoration. His eyes turned darker, while she felt that odd tickle in her belly.

Then she remembered, she felt like this before, this particular tickle, when they first met at the train, on their first trip to Hogwarts.

Ernest felt it, she felt it, but he fell prey to peer pressure. The young Finch Fletchley was ridiculed by the older Slytherin boy, Tom Riddle.

Minerva decided then, that she wasn't going to bother with the toe rag or Finch, as she would call him later. She turned her nose up to him, and their stupid ways, while young Ernest as a result remained ignored by his choice of girl. Now she realized, she too, had been a fool.

Before she could say something, Ernest crouched down and parted her folds. Up close her beautiful sex seemed like a vivid rose. In a firm, though gentle enquiry, he ran two fingers through her soft rim, identifying the moisture, heat and the musk of her desire.

In response to her arousal, his eyes turned a shade more clouded. She panted, and swayed her hips, matching his touch. A crooked smile graced his lips as he shortens the distance between his mouth to the source of her warmth.

The camera starts shooting as he begins to lick, savoring as though she is made of nectar.

Taking his time, while he captured every second on film for posterity, he penetrates her, using a finger, and massages her clit in simultaneous motion. Minerva's hips undulate as though she is rocking a boat. She pleads:

"Ernest please, I need to kiss you." He replied: "Give me a moment, you taste like heaven, and I need a lot of heaven right now." Minerva cries. "I need to kiss you, you lecherous bastard!" "Patience my darling Lioness"

He inserts a second finger, and her sheath holds him like a velvet vice. Ernest exclaims "Fools all of them, and I was the king!"

He pumps three fingers and feels her walls close up with a squelching sound. Her distending clit, her flushed skin, and the throaty moans, are pushing away his last bits of sanity, fuck it!

In a moment of clarity, he gathered, he already had an empty life without her, now he would ride the storm or die trying.

"Ah!, oh Ernest uhh, I love you!"

He needed to kiss her, but first off with the clothes, ruddy things, they only get in the way. Minerva looks gobsmacked. He feels a bit self conscious and adds, "I'm sorry, I'm not that young and attractive as I use to be..."

Minerva adds "Ernest I thought you were supposed to be old, you are scorching hot!"

Ernest adds in a low growl: "No mercy then, I don't care if I break my back."

Minerva laughs, and is hit by the kiss of a stubborn, lunatic lover, that tastes like clover, honey and the ocean, and then she feels his length penetrate her.

With a hiss, she arches her back, trying to accommodate his heavy girth. He shivers as he finds his and her hips rhythm. They start swaying in unison. He brushes away a tear, as he adds; "I love you"

The binds brake, and Minerva flips him, inverting the position. She kisses him with abandon, and riding his manhood in long strides.

Ernest looks at his jockey, and he has never been more happy. It seems that his heart is about to burst with joy, as he takes a hold of his goddess, and the kisses in the midst are a balm to his soul.

He is cognizant, and humble about being one of the very few mortals to ever experience love. Brilliant in all its form, the sentiment is like raw magic, he feels for the first time, that he can breathe, for she is his very oxygen.

He holds her hips and softens the pace, gently pushing and pulling, running his hand over her belly, her breasts, the tips or her rosy nipples, pinching, caressing her round bottom and feeling her inner tremors.

Right then, he decides to increase the tempo and observe how she begins her descent into delight. In a concentric ride of pleasure, she's enjoying him, just as much as he is enjoying her, just like it was supposed to be from the beginning.

Minerva looks at her accepting mate, and whispers into his ear: "I'm yours."

Ernest echoed her words: "I'm yours."

In harmony, the two shatter in rapture, as a bit of paradise, claims them into sweet oblivion.

It was dusk when Minerva awoke, she opens her eyes and noticed, Ernest's was sleeping with his hand resting on her hip. She smiled, closed the distance and rubbed her cheek against his.

He sighs, his beautiful emerald eyes with long lashes open, and he smiles lazily, like a smug child that got to eat a treat before dinner, and now gets to tease about it.

Minerva kissed him gently and his hands became more steel like in their grip. He loved her, and her tenderness was beginning to turn his blood to fire.

Ernest loved her displaying her claws and her eyes full of thunder, and her voice shouting, but her being gentle, and loving, unmade him, and if he fell?, well, he would drag her with him to the abyss.

He let his fingers run through her hair, black and fragrant of roses. She was undulating, like a perfect panther, purring, and all he could think was, "What is the way to your pleasure? Guide me, over the expanse of your silky skin."

Her lips found his lips, another kiss, in harmony their bodies took the next move. She straddled him, opening to him and letting his engorged staff penetrate her glorious cunt. She gasped, while her eyes acquired a liquid shade of onyx, and she moaned when she felt herself being filled by him.

Her shoulders drew back, she arched her chest forward, offering herself. Ernest felt like praising the heavens in a rush of overwhelming joy. His mouth found itself kissing her perfect breasts, suckling her nipples. She took hold of his head, and kissed his neck, adjusting the erratic movement of their hips. Ernest whispered in her ear:

"Ride me witch, do your magic, take everything from me"… "it's all yours anyway."

Minerva cried as she increased the sinuous movement of their joining.

Ernest noticed then how she readjusted, and with her hand held his erection, as she moved above in a shallower tortuous rocking, intensifying the pressure of his pleasure, and delaying his release.

Minerva opened her eyes. She was struck by the strength of her lover's gaze, an emerald mirror that looked straight into her soul.

She felt bare, just like on that train ride, like in the prefects bathroom, and following that first embrace, after such a long absence. She didn't want to hide, not from him.

Ernest held her gaze, and just like her, he uncovered a twin set of obsidian stars staring back at him, and in their dark matter, life, death, love and divine genesis existed.

The motion of their coupling gained speed as their hearts ran like wild horses. Their breaths became shorter, silent sighs, everything else lost importance as their shapes became a blur to their fixed and mutual stare.

Ernest held her head, closing the distance between their lips and before kissing her, gave his oath:

"I love you, Minerva."

His tongue met hers in a wet kiss, and in her selkie, magical and mundane form, in silence, she blessed his oath, with one of her own.

"Sweet Mother Goddess, bless him, he loves me and I love him, thank you for loving us. Thank you for him." She added, whispering into his ear:

"I love you, Ernest."

A soft tremulous light formed in the room, and in a smooth motion, flowing like mercury, advanced towards the two. Once it touched them, it made them feel like bodies gliding on the undercurrent depths of the ocean, rushing through the embrace of the tidal motion, barely breathing.

In the exchange, essentially altering the recipients of that luminescence, and in turn opening their souls to a higher presence of cherish.

The lovers were humbled and accepting of the ebb, in perfect communion to the gift of adoration, elevating themselves in that gesture, to the azure.

Life, death, the path in between, everything else lost importance, as the two remained bonded to each other, holding one another, pleasuring, giving, taking, complementing and in a sense, complete.

Elation rose like the tide, and along with the silver glow of the moon and their tears of joy, the heavens decided to favor the Selkie's prayer, once more.

The primal magicks reverberated, and the couple was enveloped by white fire, delight heightened, transfiguring both of them into energy. Vigour that reached out reflecting, their benediction in a shade to the void, in undivided, immaculate celebration to love.

Overwhelmed, the couple felt in synchrony as though they dropt from the sky, and into each other's arms, enveloped in heat, gasps and lacking consciousness. Once more the lovers surrendered into slumber, unaware of their gift.

The morning would tell what the Mother Goddess had bestowed, until then, sweet dreams would guard their souls.

Ernest opened his eyes, the morning sunlight bathing him. He had the most beautiful dream, in which a young dark, sensual goddess rode him good, enveloped him with her thighs, the silver moonlight on her fair skin, and she bouncing on top of him, while her dark stare took away the remaining bits of his comprehension. He sighted happy for his dreams. Then he heard a gasp.

Minerva looked at Ernest, and became silent, gobsmacked for a better term. He was young! At least four decades younger in appearance to what he was the night before. But there was something else. Something instinctive had changed and condensed.

He was in essence seduction, affection, libido and strength. He was Eros incarnated, the very male deity of passion, and he looked just right enough to eat. Minerva wondered in silence, "Who is this man?" Since an irresistible impulse was pushing her like a magnet in his direction, and he didn't feel exactly like Ernest, the man she made love to the night before.

Ernest realized the very ethereal, yet powerfully gorgeous creature woman was in his bed, her presence wasn't a dream, he did get straddled and rode by a goddess.

He actually dreamt about his long lost lover Minerva, however, something quite fascinating as it was frightening took form in him. The female before of him smelled like Minerva, orange blossoms, however, her looks had shifted to something close to a classical nymph. Like the original creature of delight, and of course, that was all fine and great!... Still the woman in front of him, she was a dark huntress, and was looking at him just like an exotic and legendary catch.

He of course, was aware of his looks, his ways on bewitching lovers, but Minerva was his true mate and wait a minute!... Minerva, this was Minerva. He blushed and then said:

"Minnie, is that you?"

Minerva replied in a restrained tone of voice:

"Stop your Allure Male Selkie, or pay the consequences?"

"No Minnie, wait, it's me Ernest"

She replied in a low and feral growl.

"No, my Ernest is gray haired and perfectly mature, you are Male Selkie trying to seduce me, where is my Ernest?"

"I swear to you, I'm Ernest, you used to call me Finch, you hated my guts in Hogwarts, until I lost my virginity to you, in the prefect's bathroom... I found you yesterday, and I tied you onto my bed, and then you rode me hard, and I love you!"

She opened her eyes wide, and then threw herself against his chest, took his hair and smelled it, and then she kissed him and again swayed her hips, searching for his manhood to complement and penetrate her, and with that action, verify his claim.

"Minnie, oh God!, you insatiable woman, I love you… praise the heavens, now, now I can really stand up to your demands… the mother Goddess did bless us." He said in a gasp.

"It's you!, I can't believe it!, The Mother Goddess... she blessed us!"... "I love you too, now kiss me you amazing, lecherous git!"

A third voice sighted with contempt, interrupting the couple in bed.

"You are at it, again?"

The house elf, and keeper of the home of Finch Fletchley waited for an answer. Ernest said:

"Yes, old friend we are at IT again, now could you please bring breakfast?" ... "I need to feed the missus... and give her breakfast too."

The elf shrugged and replied:

"I'll fetch your breakfast alright!, you lucky son of a bitch."

Minerva laughed and her contagious gesture, reached her mate. He kissed her, and whispered to her ear:

"He is right, you know?, I am a lucky son of a bitch, I bagged me a lioness, and I never been more happy than today."

She kissed him to quiet his ramblings and in this sensual silence, she reveled for she uncovered love, and love had smiled on them, at long last. Thank the heavens for that, of course after, she would praise the Mother Goddess, do a dance and a ritual.

All of it afterwards… as soon as she took care of the basilisk in her bed, she smiled and auto corrected her thoughts, Slytherin In her bed.