Everything happened too quickly for Minerva, wrapped in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
After the unusual journey in that vehicle that seemed to defy the laws of space, she arrived at a completely unknown realm. Upon stepping out, she found herself before a cozy, beautiful home built in the middle of a vast expanse of greenery, connected to a picturesque village not far off by a winding cobbled path. Minerva refrained from being overly curious; Henry had politely warned her that she held the status of a "guest" and was not permitted to inquire into the wider domains of the [fief] for the time being.
Nevertheless, her surroundings meant nothing to her. Her entire focus locked onto the figure watering flowers by the window.
Forgetting her initial composure and serenity, Minerva rushed to wrap Tom in her arms. With the absolute certainty of carrying his children in her womb, she found herself incapable of continuing to suppress the affection she used to insist on denying.
Shortly after, both settled in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, resuming the daily routine of their past encounters. The habit of chatting on the bed from their time at the brothel prevailed.
Unable to keep the secret any longer, Minerva confessed her condition to him. To her surprise, Tom received the news with a baffling tranquility—the result of his apparent inability to comprehend the sheer magnitude of the situation: within the dynamics of the brothel, conception was simply an unthinkable scenario. With maternal patience, Minerva explained the implications to him, assuring him that she would assume full responsibility for raising the children and that he needed only to focus on rebuilding his life.
However, Tom flatly rejected that alternative. Although he accepted the restriction of meeting only during these distant visits, he remained inflexible in his desire to contribute. He firmly proposed to continue working as a prostitute, whether by offering his services within this magical domain or returning under Andra's management—an idea that triggered immediate, fervent opposition from the professor. But the young man held his ground: he argued that he was still young, that his body was his only known resource, and that he could conceive of no other way to make a living after having been trained in that trade since childhood.
That sparked the first major argument of their relationship. For the first time, Tom didn't merely comply with Minerva's dictums. Seeing him develop an independent mind of his own would have filled the Deputy Headmistress with pride under any other circumstances, but the outcome of that autonomy left her utterly dismayed.
In the end, Minerva had to resign herself to the paradox she was trapped in: she had managed to take Tom out of the brothel, but she had failed to take the brothel out of Tom. The young man determined that, since he could not openly accompany her in her daily life, he would practice his trade independently to send her a steady stream of income. Knowing that the father of her children would sell his body to support them tore her soul apart, but at the same time, she sensed a genuine devotion in that gesture. She accepted the decision as a bitter compromise: he was no longer the property of an establishment, but an individual managing his own trade, however abhorrent it remained to her. She swore to herself that, during every future encounter, she would persist until she pulled him away from that life for good.
The day culminated in a passionate, intimate encounter on the bed. The sex was wild and uninhibited, yet careful and gentle on account of the pregnancy, even though such prudence was entirely unnecessary: the elixir "supplied by Dumbledore" granted Minerva a physical condition hardly rivaled in the wizarding world, on top of generating legendary-grade magic to protect her womb.
Exhausted and drenched in sweat, Minerva experienced a deep sense of relief, as though she had cast off an unbearable weight. Feeling Tom's hands gently caressing the emerging curve of her abdomen brought her a joy she had never imagined experiencing alongside the young man. They remained wrapped in each other's arms, sharing mutual warmth until the hour of departure became inevitable. Bidding farewell with a tender, lingering kiss—one that permanently broke formal boundaries to consolidate them as a couple—Minerva boarded Henry's vehicle once again, bound for her next destination.
...
In another sector of the fiefdom, as night fell slowly and everything turned dark and cool, I was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by scattered metal fragments, synthetic polymers, and magi-mechanical components. Sweat ran down my face as I assembled the pieces.
"Are you building a gift for me?" Tonks asked, appearing behind me. "I could use a few upgrades..." she added, raising her mechanical arm.
"It's not for you... though I can put it on the list," I replied without pausing the assembly process.
"Don't you usually do this kind of work in the laboratories or the archmage tower?" she inquired with curiosity, inspecting the components.
"I needed a change of scenery. It's a large-scale project, and I prefer executing it with a clear head." (Red)
"A mechanical skeleton, or are you designing a sex droid?" she teased with a bit of smirking sarcasm, still harboring a slight grudge over what had happened with her aunt.
"Pleasure automatons will be saved for later... This is going to be a combatant or an assistant. I want to test the boundaries of creating mechanical life; after all, when it comes to synthesizing organic life, I'm already a master," I retorted with a mocking smile. "Where's Ditto?"
"Playing with his sisters," she replied, rolling her eyes as she settled onto the chassis of a decommissioned machine. "By the way, who's the new pregnant woman?"
"How do you know there's someone else?" I asked without looking up, wiping traces of lubricant from my forehead. Manipulating magical energy at a surgical level was exhausting.
"Henry told me," she mentioned casually, stepping closer to wipe my sweat with her sleeve.
"You're in contact with Henry?"
"Of course. You made him the fiefdom's driver, and I run into him now and then at the commercial district tavern. He has a soft spot for revitalizing beers... I suggested he drop by Albion's Dragons; there's way more atmosphere there than among all those NPCs," she explained nonchalantly.
"Try to keep things discreet. It doesn't suit me for the wizarding community to discover our interactions with Muggles until everything is settled in a couple of years."
"Yeah, sure... your grand project," she dismissed half-heartedly. "Anyway, who is it? You're usually not this secretive, but I asked the others and none of them have any idea... Which is pretty unusual."
"She's not a new addition, and you know her perfectly well. She's just undergone a bit of rejuvenation... It's McGonagall," I declared offhandedly, taking a brief breath.
"PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL?!" Tonks gasped, leaping back in pure dumbfounded shock. "Did you seriously sleep with Professor McGonagall?!"
"I told you, I'm an expert," I smirked self-importantly.
Incapable of processing it, Tonks began bombarding me with a barrage of questions. That the rigid, imposing Deputy Headmistress had fallen into my net induced a mental shockwave that mixed disbelief, a trace of fear, and a strange sense of pride. She couldn't begin to imagine how things would be from now on: visualizing future orgies or casual gatherings sharing space with the woman whose mere gaze still inflicted the anxiety of someone about to sit for an NEWT exam.
Eventually, Tonks had to take her leave, whether to attend to her commitments, care for our son, or race off to spread such a massive piece of gossip to the rest of the harem. She bade me farewell with a lingering kiss filled with devotion, stripped of any hint of resentment over my antics. Truly, I was lucky to have her.
Returning to my work, I pressed on with the execution of one of the many open fronts following the acquisition of artificial intelligences—an initiative through which I sought to deepen my technological development. While one clone remained in the Hogwarts library designing a firearm imbued with magic, and another worked in the archmage tower perfecting the "conscious book," my current self was dedicated to structuring what would become the first purely mechanical lifeform originating from the fiefdom.
I cracked the vertebrae in my neck, mentally priming myself to deliver optimal work. I activated [Music] and began chanting verses to the rhythm of my methodical work on the metal chassis, raising my voice during the most "necessary" passages while subtly adapting the lyrics:
"An ancient legend born
her coming was foretold
A cybernetic champion
For the battle she was sworn...
On mighty wings she'd fly
To make the epic fight...
...Lays waste to all before her
With a hail of holy steel
Now the cosmic dust has cleared
Can it really be?
The Robot Princess of Auchtertool
Stands right in front of me
With eyes ablaze with crimson fire
And great boronic wings
her armor wrought from powersteel
She is the Mecha Queen
With solar-powered rocket guns
And lasers on her head
The Robot Princess of Auchtertool
Will fight until she's finally dead
Robot Princess of Auchtertool
Over thy robot kingdom rule
Electronic lord of war
Destined to reign forevermore
Robot Princess of Auchtertool
Over thy robot kingdom rule
Electronic Dame of war
Destined to reign forevermore
The Robot Princess will return"
(—He Has Returned, Gloryhammer)
...
In the outside world, Henry parked the vehicle in front of a family residence, letting Minerva know he would contact her when the authorized date arrived for her next visit to the fiefdom.
In reality, maintaining the lie of "Tom" served the necessity of sparing her an emotional collapse during a period where I needed events to follow a relatively normal course. Sooner or later, she would discover the truth behind my identity, but for now, it allowed her to take refuge in that illusion.
Minerva stepped down from the car, walked up to the front door of the house, and knocked without hesitation.
A few seconds later, the wooden door swung open. Malcolm McGonagall leaned out with his usual courtesy toward any visitor, failing to recognize the woman standing before him right away. However, after a few moments of scrutiny, his mind connected the features: she was the spitting image of his sister, but sporting a radically younger appearance than he remembered.
"Minerva?!" he gasped, stunned.
"Yes..." she nodded softly, her right hand instinctively seeking support on her abdomen.
"But you... How...?" he stammered, dazed.
"I ingested a potion Dumbledore gave me and it rejuvenated me... all because of..." she explained, averting her gaze down toward the nascent swell of her belly.
"Did you..." Malcolm raised his voice, noticing the instinctive gesture and the volume around her waist. The surprise gave way to dumbfounded conviction.
"Yes, I am pregnant," she confirmed simply.
"Then Tom...!" he blurted out, bordering on sheer bewilderment.
"Dumbledore managed to get him out of that establishment, but the boy is determined to continue practicing prostitution independently to send me money to care for the children."
Malcolm stood frozen, mouth agape and eyes staring blankly in absolute disbelief. Witnessing her brother's total mental short-circuit, Minerva couldn't contain a soft chuckle; leaving him unable to finish a single sentence was thoroughly amusing. She had never imagined finding herself entangled in such an extravagant situation, but despite the accumulated stress, she felt genuine joy over her pregnancy. Although the anomalies of her condition worried her—the accelerated fetal development that even St. Mungo's hadn't been able to decipher—the diagnostics had guaranteed that the lives within her womb enjoyed exceptional health.
"May I come in?" she asked with a candid smile upon seeing her brother paralyzed at the threshold.
At that moment, a woman's voice echoed from inside the house.
"Who is it, Malcolm?" her sister-in-law called out.
"A surprise..." Malcolm managed to reply with a resigned smile, stepping aside to let her through. "You're going to have to explain absolutely everything to me," he added, well aware that ever since their last encounter, his sister's life had derailed into entirely unpredictable territory.