AN: Hey y'all! I'm back with another story in the series that began with ButterflyRainbow's Cat & Kitten stories. I hope you like it. This tale picks up directly following chapter 34 of "The Ties That Bind."

FAMILY TIES

Chapter One

The Morning After

The magical creature hovered over the baby beds that held the future of the McGonagall line. Large golden eyes gleamed with joy as two tiny bodies dreamed. The smell of magical newborns in the air caused the elf to shiver. The scent causing a small burst of tingles throughout the tiny creature's body.

The chemical reaction that the odour caused in the elf's brain re-enforcing his fierce loyalty to their mother.

The Witch of the Light.

Snuggled up cozy and warm with their baby blankets, the two infants radiated an innocence that brought forth a loving smile to crease Doodleberry's lips. A tentative claw reached out and touched the softness of the warm covering.

A gift from their muggle grandmother.

A girly pink emblazoned with lightening bolts for the Little Miss. A witch who would one day do great things. Whether for good or for bad, that remained to be seen. The elf knew that with the right guidance, she would grow up to be just like her mothers.

Awesomely powerful, noble and true of spirit.

The elf turned his gaze to the other bed. A bed that held the small master. The hope of the wizarding world.

A soft blue blanket patterned with stars kept the young sir warm. A wizard who would, one day, guide the wizarding world to peaceful times.

For now, they were just two babies. Michael and Michaela. The son and daughter of Minerva and Hermione McGonagall. The young elf's Mistress and her Lady-Miss.

The small creature wondered which of his family members would receive the honour of caring for the younglings. His primary assignment was to Lady-Miss, but since no elf had been chosen as of yet, he'd decided that he would watch over the little ones until another was chosen.

A tiny pop was heard, then another's voice, "Doodleberry whats yous doin' 'ere? Yous supposed to be lookin' after Lady-Miss. Shes just finishes birthing!"

The small creature turned to gaze up at the taller elf addressing him, "Papa. No ones comes to watches so I's do it."

Izer smiled lovingly at his son, "Tis alright. T'will be your mother whos comes. Go now." The older elf raised a clawed hand and gestured for his son to go to his charge, "You's watch over Lady-Miss."

The young elf nodded, his large ears flapping a bit and departed with a tiny pop of his own.

Izer shook his head, very proud of his son's diligence but not so proud of him leaving his primary charge. Never mind that the Mistress was with her wife.

He levitated upwards to gaze down at the infant offspring of the Mistress and her Lady-Miss.

"So's yous two will be the ones eh?"

Doodleberry reappeared in the master suite of the Headmistress' quarters. He knew that as long as the Mistress was here, nothing would harm his Lady-Miss. Silently he padded over to one side of the large mahogany bed.

Lady-Miss always slept on the left side.

Quietly, he levitated up just enough to see that all was well. He didn't count on two piercing emerald eyes meeting his own large gold ones until it was too late.

A tiny squeak escaped his mouth as he backed away a bit.

"What are you doing here?" The Mistress hissed, trying not to wake her exhausted wife. She'd been keeping her own vigil. Watching over Hermione, her precious, precious wife.

Doodleberry whispered, "I's just checkin' to makes sures Lady-Miss is alright."

Minerva nodded, "She is fine. Sleeping."

With a nod of his own, the tiny creature disappeared. Positioning himself atop a bookcase against a far wall. From his vantage point, he could see both the Mistress and her wife. Curling up, he sighed contentedly.

Minerva gazed down at her sleeping wife. Her heart ached with the sheer amount of love she held for her amazing mate. Gently, she reached down and moved a bit of unruly hair that had fallen in Hermione's face. Smiling softly, the older witch placed a sweet kiss on her wife's shoulder and settled back down.

A strong, protective arm holding the smaller witch's body close to her own.

Elsewhere in the castle, in another chamber several floors below the Headmistress' tower, another bedroom stirred with a sound.

GURGLE GURGLE GURGLE.

A snorting groan rumbled from beneath bright yellow bedsheets patterned with bumble bee's magically buzzing over wildflowers. The linens shifted as a large body moved.

GURGLE GURGLE GURGLE.

A grouchy voice muttered, "Dammit Dumbles go feed it!"

Another bit of movement as a smaller body moved under the sheets, "I cannot."

Cornelius Honeyduke popped his bald head out from under the sheets, "Why not?"

Dumbledore peeked out from the under the sheets as well, "I'm naked."

The large candymaker frowned, "So?"

"You'll see me."

Cocking his hairless head, Corny grumbled, "You didn't seem to mind last night?"

Dumbledore pulled a naked arm from under the sheets and scratched his long white beard, "I was randy then."

GURGLE GURGLE GURGLE.

"Oh for pity's sake!" Corny bitched as he threw the sheets off and stood up.

Tall and completely hairless due to an unfortunate taffy pulling accident, the big man turned to face his lover. His morning stiffy pointing directly between Dumbledore's wide blue eyes.

"You are beautiful you know. You look like a work of art. The one in Rome done by that muggle Michelangelo."

Corny snorted, "You're just saying that because you want me to find you something to calm down that raging stomach of yours."

Dumbledore sat up, the sheets falling to his waist.

Grinning, Corny pointed at his lover's nakedness, "Besides. With all that hair I can't see anything anyway."

He turned and walked out the bedroom door in search of something to sooth Dumbledore's gurgling tummy.

The older wizard grinned as he watched Corny's perfect ass disappear out of the bedroom door.

Yes. Life was good.

In a well appointed London flat, another set of bed sheets were stirring. Not with the sounds of waking up, but with another set of sounds altogether.

These sounds were ancient.

As old as the trees but younger than the mountains. The soft sound of moans and whimpers. The noise of urgent grunting and heavy breathing. The whisper of panting gasps.

The sounds of love making.

"Oooooooh God Ro!" Jean Granger moaned deeply as a powerful orgasm washed over her senses.

The sounds of grunting became louder, needier.

"Ahhhhggggg! Uh... Jean, Jean! JEAAAAN!"

Jean Granger's mocha eyes sparkled with the overwhelming love she felt for her lover. Her partner... her fiancee. As the silver spike haired witch on top of her drove her pelvis into her heat with one last groaning thrust, she smiled her joy at the sounds Ro was making.

It made her feel so complete, so happy and content knowing that she could please Rolanda.

"I love you." The dark eyed woman whispered. Her arms and legs wrapped tightly around Ro.

"Love you too Muffin."

Jean grinned at the endearment. She felt Rolanda gently slide her engorged anatomy out of her sex. Ro was so gentle, so careful with her. She treated Jean with respect, adoration, playful tenderness and deep abiding love.

For the first time in her life, Jean Granger felt complete.

"I'm not too heavy for you am I luv?"

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ro's whispered question. She answered without words. Tightening her arms and legs around the muscular body of her lover.

A sweet, tender kiss was placed on the skin of her neck as a contented smile turned up the corners of her mouth. She could feel the soft spikes of Ro's hair tickling the skin of her jaw and chin. She felt the deep intakes of breath press into her breasts.

She felt the hard, wetness of Ro's engorged pearl pressing against her mound as she ran tender hands down the soft skin of a muscular back. Her fingers trailing through the perspiration brought on by her love's exertions.

She was joyously happy.

Movement from her lover caused her to ask, "What?"

Ro slid to one side of Jean and said, "Don't wanna smush ya."

Snickering, Jean brushed her fingers through those enticing spikes, "Never." She glanced at the clock on the table next to the bed, "What time do you have to be back?"

Yellow eyes looked at the glowing red numbers on the clock face, "I have first years at ten."

Nodding, Jean began to sit up, "Well then I guess I better get the coffee made."

With that, the two women began to prepare for the new day.

Ginny Weasley-Potter scrunched up her nose in disgust. Her husband stank of dragon dung. Pushing him away from her body she growled, "I thought you washed your hair?"

"I did Gin. Twice, I swear."

Lip curling, Mrs. Potter snarled, "Well wash it again! You stink!" She grumbled various colourful words at her mother for causing her husband to smell this bad.

Harry Potter reached for his glasses as he sat up. Molly Weasley had hexed him but good! Running his hands through his messy black hair, he brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed.

Yup... Dragon dung.

"I guess your mum isn't ready to forgive."

Ginny shook her head, "We hurt her feelings."

Sadly, green eyes connected with crystal blue, "I know, but you know how crazy it would've been? The press would've had a field day with this one." He pretended to hold up a newspaper and stated, "Boy who lived knocks up the red haired girl."

Ginny smiled at his antics, "I love you, but you still stink. Go wash." She leaned over and pushed his shoulder a bit.

Harry stood and turned to face his wife. Smiling as he watched her eyes darken as they took in his muscular nakedness.

"Come with me?"

Smiling, the red haired woman gracefully rose from the bed and followed her husband to the shower.

George Weasley sat at the kitchen table and watched his mother bustle about preparing breakfast. He was sipping on a black coffee and drumming his fingers on the old wooden table.

There had been a lonely restlessness about him since the conclusion of the events at Camlaan.

He brooded.

A lot.

So much so that Molly had enlisted the council of her daughter. Ginny would be finishing her schooling in several months and would be joining Hermione's practice as an Aura Therapist.

It was Molly Weasley's considered opinion that her son needed help.

Ginny had sat with George for hours talking about the events that led up to Hermione's abduction and the battle that took place. Especially focussing her energies on a certain blonde.

Candi Barr.

George couldn't get the voluptuous witch out of his mind.

Or his heart.

He hadn't felt so alive since before Fred was killed. He'd fallen for the American witch and fallen hard. Unfortunately, the fact that her mother was insanely bent on destroying Minerva McGonagall sort of put him off a bit.

That and the fact that Candi was Tom Riddle's illegitimate daughter.

Yes, that little fact put him off a teensy bit too.

Never mind that he was hopelessly in love with the woman.

The fact that she seemed to realize just how insane her mother actually was and tried to stop her in the end had helped.

He remembered the look in Candi's eyes when he'd appeared in front of the clinic with an unconscious Hermione in his trembling arms. How she'd jumped to his aide when his legs would no longer support his own weight.

There was good in her. He knew it.

Molly watched her brooding son from the corner of her eye. She worried about him the way all mothers worry when their offspring are in distress. She tutted and reheated his coffee, "Drink up love, it'll get stale."

George stared up at his mum, "Do you think she's bad?"

Molly ruffled red hair and patted his cheek, "Who dear?"

"Candi."

Sighing, Molly closed her eyes and took a deep centering breath, "I don't know."

George frowned and looked down at his fingers, still relentlessly drumming on the table, "Her mother was bad and her father..." A shiver went down his spine.

Molly made a decision. She would support him no matter what. Turning his head to face her, she cupped his face in her hands, "Sweetheart, we choose to be good or we choose to be bad. It has nothing to do with blood. It's about choice."

George's eyes welled up with tears at his mother's words.

Molly wrapped her son in a motherly embrace whispering, "It's alright sweetheart. Somehow I know it will be alright."

Dawn Granger opened her eyes. For a moment an irrational panic swept through her causing her to reach for her frying pan necklace. Frowning, she looked around and began to calm as she recognized her surroundings.

She was on the sofa in Minerva and Hermione's rooms. Puzzled, she couldn't remember how she'd ended up on the sofa covered up with a tartan quilt.

"You were shivering, so I covered you."

She looked up to see her "big sister" standing in front of the fireplace. A small smile creased her lips, "Hey Stick, 'Mione sleeping?" Her voice sounded hoarse.

Minerva nodded, "She will sleep for several hours. Poppy made sure to include a sleeping draught in the potions she gave your sister."

Dawn cleared her throat as she sat up, "Is she alright?"

Minerva's nostrils flared a bit as she replied, "She will be. Having two children left her a wee bit torn in places."

Involuntarily Dawn closed her thighs tightly, "Yeeouch!"

Nodding, Minerva gave a rueful, "Indeed."

Rolanda Hooch strode into the kitchen of the London flat with her nose sniffing avidly. The smell of coffee and bacon having lured the witch from her morning primping and into the kitchen to find her fiancee busily preparing the morning meal.

Stepping up behind Jean, the taller woman wrapped powerful arms around her woman and nuzzled the tender skin of her lovers neck.

The elder Granger leaned her head back and moaned, "Mmmmmm. You keep doing that and you'll just have to take me right here on the kitchen table."

Grinning, Ro playfully nipped her lover's sensitive earlobe, "Sounds like a plan to me!" Smiling as she heard Jean snort.

Two large hands rose to cup the sandy-brown haired woman's ample breasts. Feeling hardened nipples poking through a silky nightdress, Ro growled, "What's this I feel?"

Jean slid a spatula into the sizzling frying pan and flipped an egg muttering, "What do you expect pawing me like this?"

Affronted, Ro grumbled, "Pawing? Huh! I'll have you know this is commonly called mauling one's lover."

Jean threw her head back and laughed, "Go set the table you glorious dyke!"

Ro stepped back and looked down at herself. Knee high Quidditch boots were tucked into snug fitting grey trousers. Said trousers were secured with a thin black leather belt studded with tiny snitches. A long sleeved white Oxford shirt was cleanly tucked into the sexy trousers.

Clearing her throat, she mumbled, "Yup, dyke I am."

Corny sat at the small breakfast table in his lover's quarters and sipped at his coffee. The house elves had kindly provided the early edition of the Daily Prophet for him to read while he waited for Dumbledore to finish his morning ablutions.

Hearing the sound of off-key humming, the big man grinned and took another sip.

A small article at the bottom of page seven caught his attention. The skin above his eyes where one would normally find an eyebrow twitched as he read the story about a mysterious sickness dubbed "The Azkaban Ailment" that had afflicted a prisoner and two guards.

He wondered if Hermione knew about this.

His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of his lover.

"Does this clash too much?"

Looking up, he saw that Dumbledore was clad in a lime green robe with huge bright pink polka dots. Atop the elder wizards head rested a bright red cap that hung over one side. A puffy white ball was attached to the hat and hovered just above the white haired man's left shoulder.

"You look like a psychotic Santa who's been smoking marijuana."

Grinning, Dumbledore grabbed his outer robe of neon yellow and chuckled, "Perfect!"

The older wizard moved over to his lover. Leaning down, he pecked Corny on the top of his bald head, "Have a good day love."

The big man's dark eyes softened as he gently grasped Dumbledore's beard and pulled his face towards his own, "You too." A sweet kiss followed his words.

Blushing, the older wizard fiddled with his cloak for a moment more, "What's on your agenda for today?"

Corny finished his coffee and stood, "Carl and Anna are sitting down with me to finalize the deal."

Dumbledore watched as his lover moved into the tiny kitchen and proceeded to wash his mug out and place in the sink.

"The elves can take care of that."

Corny smirked at his love, "They have enough to do. I can handle this."

Tugging on his beard, Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and changed the subject, "So you really are buying the sweet shop?"

Corny grabbed his bright purple travelling cloak, "Yup. How else am I going to keep you supplied with sweets?" He chuckled and added, "Besides, Carl wants the shop to stay in the family."

Together the two wizards walked to the door. Dumbledore, heading for the Great Hall to help Filius supervise breakfast and Corny, headed for the main entrance and Hogsmede beyond.

Filius Flitwick waved his wand and breakfast appeared on the tables in the Great Hall. The sounds of boisterous munching, idle chatter and the occasional loud guffaw could be heard.

Dumbledore leaned close to Poppy and asked, "How are the new additions faring?"

Smiling, her faded blues eyes showing a twinkle or two, the Medi-Witch replied, "I checked in on them before coming here. They're sleeping peacefully. Hermione was still asleep as well. The birthing was a wee bit hard on her."

Albus' clear blue eyes clouded a bit, "Is she going to be alright?"

Hagrid, Sinistra and Flitwick leaned in to hear as well. They adored Hermione and wanted to make sure she was alright. The fact that she had brought light back into Minerva's heart went without saying.

Poppy sighed, "In a few days. I've given her a few potions. Some of them her own brew mind you. So I think with a bit of rest, she'll be up and around in no time."

Dumbledore grinned, "Her own potions?" It was a well known fact here at the school as well as in Hogsmede that Dr. McGonagall's potions tasted quite good.

Poppy stuck her tongue out at the old wizard, much to the delight of the other teachers. Titters could be heard hiding behind hands and napkins. Hagrid's booming chuckle only darkened the expression on Poppy's face.

"I know. My potions taste like ... um crap." She fiddled with her fork before spearing a piece of breakfast ham, "I've been meaning to ask Hermione what she puts in her potions to make them so palatable."

Dumbledore snickered, "That's easy... Gryffindor heart, know-it-all knowledge, a dash of muggleborn wisdom and the love of a good animagus."

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. The sun was up and peaking through the curtains telling her that she'd been asleep for quite a while.

Reaching out, she felt the coolness of empty sheets next to her. Minerva had apparently been up for some time. Grimacing, she felt a fullness in her breasts that spoke loud and clear that it was time to feed the babies.

Gingerly sliding out of bed, she grimaced at the dull pain throbbing in her nether regions. Giving birth was certainly no picnic!

"Does Lady-Miss needs Doodleberry?" A tiny voice chirped from on top of the bookcase against the far wall.

Looking up, Hermione smiled at her loyal elf, "No I'm fine. Why don't you go get some breakfast hmmm? Come back when you're done."

Two large blinking eyes stared at her for a long moment, "Is you's sure?"

Nodding, Hermione shot him a warm smile and watched as he disappeared with a pop. Making her way to the loo, she ran a hand through her wild mass of curls. Leaning over the vanity, she peered into the en-suite's large mirror.

Widening her eyes, she could see where tiny blood vessels had burst from her exertions. Her body was still a little puffy too. The after birthing potions usually took a day or two to kick in.

Frowning, she began rummaging around under the sink for her box of potions. A box that Dawn had stashed under there for her days before. Spying it, she went to pick it up and winced loudly, "Yikes!"

Two strong hands appeared behind her and reached for the box.

"You know better than to try to lift anything." Came the gentle scolding tone of her wife's Scottish brogue.

The box was placed on the vanity in front of her. Feeling a light caress against her check, Hermione gazed up into concerned, loving emerald eyes.

"Heya." She whispered as she sank into the comforting embrace of her wife.

"How are you feeling?"

Snorting, the young witch muttered, "God awful. I need the red bottle and the green bottle."

Minerva obligingly grabbed the required bottles from the box. Turning to her wife, she raised an inquiring eyebrow.

Sighing, Hermione said, "I had Dawn put these in here a few days ago. I figured they would be needed at some point."

She widened her eyes for Minerva to see the broken blood vessels. Holding up the red bottle, she murmured, "That's what this is for." Unscrewing the cap, she downed it in one large gulp.

Minerva watched as her wife's eyes slowly returned to normal.

Hermione turned back to look into the mirror and said with a grin, "Vizeenus Potion. Gets the red out."

Hermione had settled onto the sofa in the nursery. Minerva was carefully handing a mewling Michaela to her wife when she heard someone knocking at the main door to her quarters.

She also heard as Dawn went and answered it.

"Hey Butterfly! Wha'cha doin' here?"

Hermione grinned, "Looks like Ro made it back."

Minerva growled, "She had better not be sporting any love bites."

Rolanda Hooch peeked into the nursery, "And why not?"

The Headmistress of Hogwarts pulled herself up into the most regal, dignified and fearsome stance she could muster as she replied, "Because we do not prance about showing off our trophies like a common trollop! Not in front of the children. We have an example to set."

Dawn strolled into the nursery, "Relax Stick. I checked her out. I also told mum that you'd be right vexed if she marked up Ro like last time."

The youngest Granger watched in amused fascination as Hooch turned an amazing shade of puce right before her eyes. Minerva's mouth had fallen open in astonishment and Hermione was cackling like a mad hen.

"Well alright then.. uh I'll be going now." Hooch literally ran for the door.

Innocent as you please, Dawn turned to watch as her sister nursed her niece, "Doesn't that hurt?"

"Poppy! You here?"

Madam Pomfrey pulled her head out of her supply cupboard as she heard Hooch's distinctive deep voice, "I'm here."

"I need you!"

The tone of Hooch's voice left no doubt in Poppy's mind that her help was urgently needed. Slamming the doors closed to her supply chest, she rushed out of the tiny room to discover Madam Hooch gently placing an unconscious student onto a cot.

"What happened?"

The spike haired witch shook her head, "He was too forceful while saying, "Up" and his broom knocked him out. I think his nose is broken too."

Shaking her head, while softly tutting in sympathy, Poppy waved her wand and the youngsters uniform changed to comfortable pyjamas with tiny teddy bears on them.

Hooch snickered at seeing that.

Poppy frowned, "What's so funny?"

Giggling, Hooch pointed at the bears, "He has teddy jammies!"

Poppy snorted, "I seem to recall you having Pooh Bears."

Red faced, Hooch vacated the hospital wing.

After Michael had finished nursing, Hermione carefully burped him, then placed him beside his sister in the gently swinging cradle.

Dawn walked back into the nursery, the front of her jumper wet from wiping off baby puke. Narrowing her dark eyes at her smiling sister, she groused, "You coulda just scorged me ya know."

"The word is scourgify."

"Whatever."

Hermione grinned, "Someday my dear sister, you too shall know the joys of motherhood."

Dawn scrunched up her face, "Dirty nappies? No way!"

The young woman shook her head in disgust and turned to leave. Stopping by the door, she said, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. A large packet came for you at the clinic. This giant black owl showed up and scared the bejeezes outta me."

Frowning, Hermione asked, "Where's it from?"

Sighing, Dawn replied, "Some guy named Pennyworth." With that, she disappeared out of the door.

Hermione stared down at her children, a frown marring her lovely face.

Pennyworth? David Pennyworth? What would the head of her former medical school and now head of St. Mungo's want with her?

Curiosity killed the cat or in this case a lion as the young Gryffindor moved as fast as her healing body would allow. She walked into the living room to find Minerva and Dawn sitting in front of the fire enjoying a cup of tea.

"I need to drop by the clinic for a moment. Can you look after the babies?"

Minerva's nostrils flared, "You are not supposed to be gallivanting about."

"I'm not gallivanting Tabby, I just need to pick up a packet that came for me." Hermione replied trying to keep her voice calm.

The last thing she needed was for Minerva to go all protective on her. Smiling, she said, "Tell you what. I'll have Doodleberry pop me in and out okay?"

At the mention of his name, the tiny elf appeared at Hermione's sleeve.

Before Minerva could utter another word, Hermione also said, "Oh and by the way, I think they might be close to their first poo too." With that she grabbed her elf's claw and together they disappeared.

Minerva and Dawn stared at the spot where sister and wife had been standing just a moment ago. Slowly, they looked back at each other as Dawn whispered in a voice filled with doom, "First poo?"

-to be continued