Brunette Bookworms Part 1 (Harry/Mcgonagall/Hermione)

Because I get too many ideas and can't keep things simple, the Harry/Young Mcgonagall oneshot is going to have an extra chapter or two and include a Harry/Hermione element.

Also, sorry I couldn't get it posted last night. This part came out longer than my usual daily uploads.

Something was obviously wrong. 

Harry was never into cars the way that his uncle was, but he was aware that the muggle vehicles didn’t look like THIS anymore.

He watched contraptions that looked like clunky boxes on wheels putter down the street. All the men on the sidewalks were wearing suits and hats. The street wasn’t even completely paved. It was just sand.

“Now what?” Harry said.

He thought his life was calming down. He’d been preparing to go back for his seventh year at Hogwarts (the one he missed due to the war). He had just come back to London to stay overnight and visit Hermione. It was a bit embarrassing to admit, but he’d had a wank in his hotel room, felt a sense of vertigo, and bam! Here he was. Fortunately, his clothes were on properly.

The air quality was worse than what Harry was used to. People were looking at him funny for wearing ordinary muggle clothes instead of a suit. He was the center of attention right now, a feeling he’d never liked.

He had half an idea where he was, and he was hoping it was a dream.

Because if he wasn’t wrong, this was London exactly where he’d been staying.

Just in the PAST.

True time travel… it was supposed to be impossible. Then again, so was living through the killing curse. So there was a precedent for Harry breaking the rules of magic as easily as he broke Hogwarts’ rules.

He kind of just stood there staring at everything, not really moving. Where was he supposed to go and what could he do? All of a sudden, somebody grabbed him.

He found himself dragged into a sooty back alley that was deserted, except for him and the person who grabbed him.

“Hermione?” he said.

He thought his friend had been dragged through time just like he had. Except, this wasn’t her. They definitely looked the same.

This girl had brown hair that was naturally curly, but had been violently straightened (Harry could see the ends curling up in a couple of places). She was just as pretty as Hermione with equally intelligent eyes. Her shared appearance with his friend made her feel familiar even though he was deep within the past.

“Who?” the woman snapped. “Nevermind, don’t change the subject. There should be a limit to your idiocy!”

“Sorry?” Harry said.

“You Apparated! Right in the middle of the street! You’re too old to blow off the Statue of Secrecy like some child,” she said. “Do you have ANY idea how hard the rest of us work to keep it intact, meanwhile idiots like you just do as you please.”

Her voice cracked. She seemed strangely emotional. 

“You’ve got it wrong,” Harry said. “I didn’t Apparate.”

“I just watched you appear out of thin air!” she said.

Huh. So that was how he arrived? Harry didn’t realize that time travel would be so noticeable. Not that he was an expert of any kind. 

“Nobody noticed, though,” Harry said. He couldn’t very well explain where he had actually come from, so he might as well come up with excuses about his “Apparation”.

“All of the Muggles were staring straight at you!” The girl said.

“Not because I teleported, though,” Harry said. “That was because of my clothes.”

“Oh. So you’re aware of what you’re wearing. What even are they?” The girl asked disdainfully. “They aren’t robes and they CLEARLY aren’t Muggle clothes.”

“They’re informal Muggle clothes,” Harry said. “I wasn’t dressed for this occasion, alright? I wasn’t planning on coming here…”

The girl’s look became less hostile. “You didn’t mean to? Was it an Apparition mistake? Why didn’t you say that?”

“It was something like that. It’s just… embarrassing to admit it,” Harry said.

It was best to play along for now. Harry didn’t know yet if this was temporary or not, so not antagonizing the native magical population was the least he could do. She might be able to help him.

“Boys and their silly pride,” the girl said. “You look nineteen at the oldest. You’ve probably only just gotten your Apparation License, what is there to be embarrassed about when making a mistake? Be glad you didn’t splinch yourself.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry promised.

She stopped and looked at him. Now that she wasn’t mad, she looked even more beautiful. Although, when she was angry, there had been a different kind of hotness to her.

“You can’t run around looking like that,” she declared. “And you’re clearly a clueless wizard that’s not used to Muggles, so it’s not like I can trust you to do it properly by yourself. Come on, I’ll help you get some proper clothes.”

“You’d do that?” Harry asked. 

“It’s the proper thing to do!” the girl said.

Privately, he thought she was embarrassed about having given him such a hard time before and was trying to make up for it. He wasn’t going to turn down the help.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m Harry. What’s your name?”

“Minerva!” the girl said. 

Oh. OH! He thought her resemblance to Hermione was the reason she felt familiar. Turns out, it was because he had known her for years.

Harry barely kept himself from blurting out, Professor?

LINE BREAK

By all accounts Harry should have felt awkward going around London with a younger version of one of his mentors. However, this Minerva was just way too different from the one he knew for him to consider them the same person.

If anything she still reminded him a lot more of Hermione. The physical resemblance was there, and they had a lot of the same personality traits.

Minerva took him to a muggle clothing store. He paid her in galleons—fortunately his mokeskin pouch made the trip with him—and she gave the proprietor muggle currency for him. Harry had muggle money in his pouch as well, but he pretended he didn’t. The money from the future was so different that it would have looked counterfeit in this time period.

After Harry got dressed in his new clothes, he came outside to meet up with Minerva again. He didn’t have any kind of plan so he was ready to stick with her until she had enough of him.

When he stepped outside, she silently stared at him.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” Harry asked. 

He’d gotten help, but he wasn’t used to wearing clothes like this. The last time he had to get dressed up in a muggle suit was when he went to the funeral of Vernon’s mom back while he lived with the Dursleys.

“Nothing wrong!” Minerva said. “I was just… surprised by how nicely you cleaned up.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, beaming at her.

His smile made her blush.

“What were you up to today anyway?” Harry asked. “Before you ran into me and pulled me into an alley.”

“Don’t say it that way! It sounds vulgar,” Minerva said. “I was just… going around? I’m living nearby at the minute. I start a new job when the summer is over. And I was living at home before that, but I left quite quickly. I don’t have much to do during the day so I’ve been going on walks.”

“You must know the area pretty well,” Harry said. “Can I convince you to show me around?”

It didn’t take much convincing. Soon, Minerva was giving him a complete tour of the area. Harry was still hoping that whatever had happened to him was just temporary. He couldn’t think of a better way of killing time than this.

It was fun to see London in the past, too. He was sure that would wear off if he couldn’t get home, and he’d quickly grow to hate it. 

Over time he started to notice that Minerva was giving him weird looks. Harry didn’t know what to make of that, so he ignored it. They saw all sorts of London attractions, some that Harry recognized and others that felt completely new. The two of them got along so well that when their sightseeing was coming to an end, Minerva invited him over for dinner.

She was living in an apartment. Despite being in a muggle area magic had been used to make the interior much nicer. It had been expanded to a larger size. Almost every article of furniture had charms used on them to improve them, like the chairs that had magically softened cushions and the drink glasses that refilled themselves every time they were emptied. 

Harry couldn’t help noticing that one of the refilling glasses had more smudges of lipstick, implying that Minerva was drinking from it regularly. That one automatically filled itself with hard alcohol whenever activated.

Minerva was cooking herself, using charms to make the kitchen move around her. Even things that were usually done by hand, like salting meat, she was handling with a wand. It was like she was trying to prove to someone that she was a witch.

“Your house is pretty magical for being in a muggle area,” Harry said.

“Is there a problem with that?” Minerva asked.

“No, I’m not upset about it,” Harry said. “I just thought it must be hard, not being able to let anyone see inside your house.”

For some reason she glared at him.

“I don’t need muggles to come over for visits,” she said.

Harry briefly felt scared that maybe his professor had been a blood supremacist in her youth. That didn’t really make sense though because her dad was a muggle. Plus, there was something suspicious about her anger. It looked to him like she was trying not to cry.

Harry picked up two of the refilling glasses. One was the glass he’d noticed that she usually drank from on the basis of the marks on it. The other was another glass that filled with alcohol. The one McGonagall used was charmed to fill itself with Scotch, while the one Harry took used whiskey.

He put the glasses down on the table where they would be eating. Minerva brought out food for both of them and noticed it there. 

“Oh! I don’t… drink like that…” she said.

“So this is for guests then?” Harry asked.

Remembering she’d said that she didn’t have guests, Minerva gave up lying. She had cooked a large turkey for the two of them with a side of vegetables. She settled into her seat, sipping hard alcohol with the meal.

Harry still didn’t know what he was doing here, and maybe he should have worried about changing things. That was a concern with time travel, right? But he couldn’t think like that, it just wasn’t like him, and right now his instincts were telling him that Minerva was deeply sad about something.

The way that her emotions swung rapidly throughout the day, and brief moments of melancholy when she thought he wasn’t watching, told him that she was in pain over something.

The blunt approach had always been Harry’s favorite.

“So what’s bothering you?” he asked.

Minerva flinched. She drank at least a shot’s worth from her glass and sighed deeply.

“What am I even doing, complaining about this to someone who’s basically a stranger?” she wondered aloud. “If you really want to listen, then listen!”

She explained what had happened to her.

Just like Harry remembered (although Minerva of course didn’t know that HE knew it already) she said how she was the daughter of a muggle man and a witch. She had been raised in the countryside. Her mother hid that she was a witch at first, revealing it to her husband only when Minerva started to show early signs of magic. 

She said that the reveal had driven a wedge between her parents that was never fully bridged. It had been a lack of trust from that point on. But they stayed together and they raised her well. When Minerva was eleven, she went to Hogwarts as expected.

She loved every second of it. Minerva spent seven years of her life learning the intricacies of magic. Finally, she returned home for one last summer after graduation with a promising future laid out in front of her. While she was home, that’s when disaster struck unexpectedly.

It started out well. She met the son of a farmer in the area who was her age. She described him to Harry as handsome and charming. She fell for him, and he fell for her. At the end of summer he asked her to marry him. She said yes.

Until she went home, seeing her parents again, and was reminded what life she was choosing. She would have to put her wand away and live the rest of her life hiding who she was. Maybe not from her husband, but definitely from their neighbors and everyone else.

She couldn’t do it. She needed to live as a witch, no matter what it took. She had to do the things her mother hadn’t allowed herself to do. Minerva went back the next morning and told her lover that she was calling off the marriage. Then she came here and got herself this apartment.

Harry glanced around the room, things starting to make sense. She used so much magic that no Muggle could ever step foot in this apartment without breaking the statue of secrecy. It was like a declaration that she was a witch and had to live as such.

“You look like him,” Minerva admitted. She stared into her glass and watched it refill with scotch. “That’s why I was so irritable with you at first… sorry, I know it’s not fair. You even act a little bit like him.” 

She sipped her scotch. “What an unsavory side of myself to show someone. I start as an assistant professor when the school year begins again. I shouldn’t be drinking like this.”

She took another sip. “I need to get over him. And I will. If I could just spend ONE night with him, I don’t think it would hurt so bad…”

Harry cleared his throat. He hadn’t drunk nearly as much as she had, but he took a big swig of whiskey suddenly.

It was awkward to hear her say that straight after ranting about how much he looked like her lost lover and how he completely reminded her of the man.

Minerva gasped. She realized the same thing after Harry cleared his throat. It made her blush. She looked scandalized, then bashful, then sly, then bashful again. She pushed her glass away from herself.

“Harry…” she said. “Stay still.”

She slid out of her seat and dropped onto her knees. She crawled toward Harry, who was unable to help the way his dick rose up in his pants to greet her.

“Seriously?” Harry asked. 

Minerva pushed his chair back to make room and kneeled above his crotch. She couldn’t look at him, so she just looked at the bulge over his crotch. She licked her lips.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “I was quite popular back at Hogwarts. Don’t tell me you’re not interested?”

Harry couldn’t answer, giving away that no, it wasn’t that.

“Just go along with me then. Please,” Minerva said. “I REALLY need this.”

Harry heard her voice tremble slightly. He made his mind up.

For everything Professor McGonagall had done for him in school, he’d do this for this young cute version. This Minerva felt like a little sister to the one he knew, or a daughter. Try as he might, he couldn’t think of it as weird. So he sat there and let her unbutton his pants and pull his dick out.

“It’s quite… I mean, it’s bigger than I expected,” Minerva said.

All the same, she opened her lips and engulfed his veiny hard on.

“Urp… URP!” Minerva gagged as he hit her throat. She sucked her lips and kept going.

“SLURP!” “SLURP!” “SLURP!”

Minerva figured out how to soften her throat and deepthroat him. She rubbed her lips along his dick, smudging it the way she had smudged her scotch glass. She sucked on Harry with just as much desperation, trying to drain him via the crotch. Harry groaned and stroked her brown hair.

It was strange that when he squinted, it damn near felt like he was watching Hermione suck his dick. Harry thought that would be a turn off… but somehow, it only got him more excited.

Minerva pulled her head off of his dick. Her brown hair was hanging down over her eyes; there was spit on her lower face all around her lips.

“I want this to feel like an apology,” she said. “I want to feel like I’m making up for something. So make it rough for me!”

Without giving Harry any time to answer that, she went back to sucking him off.

“SLURP!” “SLURP!” “SLURP!”

She looked up at Harry while she was gagging on him, waiting for him to take control.

He’d made a promise to himself to help her however she needed, even if it was kinky as shit like this, so…  Harry went for it.

He grabbed the back of Minerva’s head using two big hands. Harry moved his hips forward as much as he could while sitting down, shoving Minerva down at the same time. All of his dick went into her pretty little throat and made it bulge. Tears ran out of her eyes.

“Glack!” “Glack!” “Glack!”

Harry fucked her face so hard that all he could see was the brown blur of the top of her head. Her hair that she worked so meticulously to straighten was starting to return to its naturally curly state. Yet again Harry felt like he was staring at Hermione. Minerva reached her hands up and groped his muscular thighs through his pants, squeezing him with all the might she had in her fingers. Harry kept using her throat.

“GLACK!” “GLACK!” “GLACK!”

“Ohhhhhhh!” Harry groaned. “Minerva I— I’m cumming!”

There was nothing she could do with that information other than brace herself. Harry was in complete control as he thrust her head down and held it against his crotch. His veiny dick twitched and throbbed while her nose was pressed shut against his stomach. She couldn’t bring in any air, and soon she was left to swallow cum.

Harry’s orgasm felt particularly intense to him. Why was that, was it because this situation had turned him on even more than he thought? Minerva WAS beautiful, and her resemblance to his best friend had been doing strange things to him. Still, it felt like his head was spinning!

He wasn’t the only one. Minerva was struggling to gulp his seed down while lacking air coming in. It became so intense that when Harry let go of her, her head sliding off of his dick, she swayed and fell back, having passed out with cum dripping from her nose. 

Harry needed to check on her. He reached out to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

He couldn’t do anything. Vertigo hit him with the force of a blasting curse. His head throbbed more than his dick. Harry bent forward, groaning, and all of a sudden, he was gone.

Harry reappeared in his hotel room back in the future, sitting exactly where he’d been before. 

With no other way to summarize this properly, Harry was forced to say: “What the fuck?”