Minerva Gold and the Wand of Silver Pt. 05

Adventures.

Minerva shook her head and tugged Katarina into one of the passenger compartments. It was less of a pullman's berth and more of a mobile hotel room, with adjoining chambers and a large window looking out at the city of London as it rolled by - the train clearly picking up speed. There was the faintest feeling of motion. Minerva thrust Katarina down into a comfortable chair in the sitting room of the passenger car, and sighed intently.

"Open your hand," she said.

Katarina looked surly. But she opened her hand. Minerva dragged her chair over, sitting down. She leaned in close and frowned as she examined the jagged chunks of glass thrust into the tough callouses. She started to pluck them out, careful to withdraw them with as little pain as she could. There was a small ashtray on the table, which served well enough as a container to hold the blood glistened glass. As each tinked in, Katarina's fingers twitched.

"Tell me about the...Roter Hexenzirkel?" Minerva said, looking up at Katarina. Katarina looked aside. "Your...father was a member, wasn't he?"

Katarina nodded. "Ja," she said, softly. "They backed the KPD." At Minerva's arched eyebrow, she added. "The communists."

"Ah," Minerva said. "And the..." She puzzled at the German. "The Red Witches?"

"That's them, yes," Katarina said, softly. "They tried to block the Nazis wizards. Did a good job of it too. Most German wizards would rather have drunk rattlesnake venom than work with Hitler. Only good thing you can say about the bastards." Minerva stood, rummaging around. When she returned, it was with cloth and a glass of water. She daubed the cloth into the water, then began to gently clean the wounds. Before her eyes, Katarina's skin was already scabbing over. The blood had stopped flowing entirely. Minerva drew her hand back, eyes widening.

"They thought an Austrian upstart was an affront to their Prussian hexenverking, bah!" Katarina shook her head, her hand still held out for Minerva to examine. "But did they work with the KDP? Did they do a thing when the brownshirts came for the communists and the queers? No. they said 'ah, well, we may not like their methods, but, they had it coming, did they not.'' She growled, her eyes bright gold.

"I'm sorry," Minerva whispered. Then, more firmly. "Your...your hand is on its way to mending. I got the glass out and it..."

Katarina looked at her hand, flexing her fingers. The scabs were thin pink lines. Her grin was wry. "This being the advantage of the blood of Remus, yes?"

"You're...not..." Minerva wasn't sure how to say it.

Their eyes met.

Gold flashed as Katarina growled. "I am being a werewolf, yes."

Minerva's skin prickled with gooseflesh. The vivid image of Katarina taking hold of her chin, between thumb and forefinger, rooting in her place and...

Biting her?

Sinking her teeth into her throat...

Drawing blood and a soft sigh all at once, and...tearing and-

Minerva stood, flushing. "Your hand's fine," she said, her voice flat. "I just needed to make sure you didn't bleed over the carpet." She turned to go, her cheeks having two tiny pink dots on them. Katarina watched her, then arched an eyebrow.

"That is all?"

"Yes, that is all," Minerva said, walking to the door.

"Then why are you not using healing magic? Much faster, then plucking each thorn from my paw with your gentle fingers, Minnie..." Katarina's voice was husky. Taunting. God above, did Minerva hate that taunting voice. Her cheeks burned.

She had no answer.

She opened the door, slipped out, then closed it.

***

"A day!?" Minerva exclaimed as Gina pressed her face against the glass of the window, watching the countryside roll by.

"Yes!" Gina siad, turning back. She had chosen a room for her and Minerva, and it was just as opulent and impossible as every other part of the train.

"I thought this train would get there in five minutes, considering every other impossible trick you wizards have pulled off," Minerva said, clicking her tongue. "Twenty four hours would get us to bloody Greenland!"

"Pff, Iceland maybe," Gina said, chuckling. "But no, we take a turn through the Fae and Astral, before we come to where Hexagramatica is situated - it's in some..." She waved her hand. "Pocket something something that keeps it from prying eyes and such."

"Ah, but of course," Minerva said. "I suppose that's why the train's so fancy."

"Well, it's like this because we're in it," Gina said, casually. She turned to face her. "So, did you know that big kraut?"

"A-After a fashion," Minerva said.

"Did you notice her wand?" Gina grinned.

Minerva's brow furrowed. She had noticed her shoulders. Her bicep. Those gold, gold eyes. That long straight blond hair. The fierce, wicked smile. The strength in that hand. The...she shook her head before her imagination kept going. "N-No, I didn't," she said.

"She had a Kaiser-14 issue German Imperial Army wand," Gina said, her eyes shining. "They made those for their soldiers. Think she was in the war?" Then before Minerva could respond. "No, no way, she's not nearly old enough. Must have been her Da's. Still, those wands are pretty rare - they were mostly turned in after the War and lots of them got melted down."

Minerva shook her head. "I didn't notice," she said.

"Well, she definitely has a bone to pick with Harry," Gina said.

"What do you know about those German witches that Vane Villamont supposedly defeated?" Minerva asked.

"Everyone says they were going to destroy our Masquerade - reveal us to the mundanes," Gina said. "Villamont is an absolute prick, but you have to protect the Masquerade, eh?"

"Yeah..." Minerva frowned. "I have to admit, I doubt that."

Gina considered for a bit, clicking her tongue. "Yeah," she said, quietly. "I think if Vane Villamont said the sky was blue, I'd doubt it. What did the Kraut-"

"Katarina," Minerva said.

"Katarina?" Gina grinned at her. "Are you and she friends or something?"

"No, she's quite infuriating," Minerva said, immediately.

"Well, yeah, but still," Gina said, shrugging. "What did she say about, like, her side of things?"

"The Red Witches just wanted to stop Hitler," Minerva said. "And Vane Villamont definitely seems to be a fan of old Adolph."

Gina snorted. "Yeah, that all lines up - ugly, ugly business." She sighed. "Maybe she and Harry will have a duel."

"If they'd actually talk to each other, I think Harry would rather team up with Katarina against Villamont," Minerva said, quirking her lips up. "Still, how long do we spend in the Fae? And how long in the Astral?"

Gina sighed and leaned back in her seat. She put her feet up on the chair across from her, not even bothering to remove her shoes. She slouched. "Only two in the Fae, pity to say."

"I don't know, I've been interested in the Astral Plane since I read my introductory textbook on it," Minerva said, her brow furrowing.

"Those textbooks were written before the War, since they're all basics," Gina said, frowning. "The Astral Plane isn't what it used to be. That's why the train has those." She pointed at the thick, heavy curtains. "Blackout curtains, like during the War. They're going to be drawn by the fae when we enter the Astral and won't open until we reach Hexgramatica."

Minerva shivered. "I...thought the War only impacted the Astral, like, near the big battles. Like Ypres and the Somme and Verdun," she said, the names feeling weighty on her tongue.

Gina grinned, but it was a grim one. "Nah. It's only dangerous around Yrpes. It's fucked everywhere."

"Gina!" Minerva exclaimed.

"I'm just quoting my father!" Gina placed her palm to her chest, her face purely innocent.

"You are the living end," Minerva muttered.

"Thank you!" Gina beamed. "Now, shall we hit the dining car?"

"I think I will check on Harry," Minerva said.

"Oh yes!" Gina exclaimed, sitting up.

"Alone," Minerva said, firmly.

"Aww!" Gina looked like her puppy had been kicked in front of her eyes. "I can restrain myself!"

Minerva did not respond. She simply arched an eyebrow and looked incredibly serious. She held this mask of solemnity in silence, the only noise being the ticking of the clock and the very distant rumbling of the engines and rattle of the rails.

Both girls burst into peals of laughter.

***

Minerva found Harry's room through the simplest expedient of asking a house fae. The nude man smiled and gestured, and Minerva came to the room. It was on the second story of the third passenger car, requiring her to walk up a flight of stairs on a train, something that remained deeply surreal to her. She came to the door and found it was closed up. Minerva lifted her hand to knock, then frowned as she heard a clattering noise within.

She leaned close, pressing her ear to the door.

Harry's voice, muffled a bit through the thick wood, said: "Charlene! W-We..."

The sound of a giggle came then. Minerva bit her lip, then tried the knob. The door hadn't been locked. She opened it a crack and peeked in, to see if she needed to rush in to rescue Harry from Charlene Cindercarus-Colette. Instead, she saw that Harry was sitting in a large, comfortable and red upholstered chair. His hands gripped the arms and he looked faintly stricken - but he didn't push the other wizard away as she...knelt before him.

Minerva's eyes widened and her hand went to her wand. She hissed, under her breath. "Wif Kemb Subtrahe." Her body glimmered, then thinned and thinned and thinned, until she was nearly invisible.The compression felt no more or less uncomfortable than sitting or standing, and it left her free to gape as she leaned in and watched as Charlene drew her head back and away from Harry's lap. His belt was undone, his pants had been opened and his...his cock thrust into the air as Charlene caressed him. Her hand gripped the base of his manhood, her tongue darting out to tease along the tip of him.

He was uncircumcised.

Every other manhood Minerva had seen had been properly cut. This looked...

Different.

Was this why it didn't kindle her the way it should have?

Minerva didn't know. She flicked her tongue along her lips as Harry groaned, his hand reaching down to gently caress Charlene's brown curls. "We shouldn't..." he whispered.

"Shhh, Harry," Charlene purred. She leaned forward, her hair dragging through his fingers. Her mouth closed around his tip and she pushed forward, beginning to take inch after inch of him. As she did so, her hand reached down and played with the top of her school uniform. It spilled open and, as it spilled open, her breasts came free. Full and luscious and tipped with rosy red nipples, Charlene actively played with her own breasts, tugging on her nipples as she managed, with a grunt, to place her lips against Harry's base, her throat stretching slightly as she took him entire.

"Oh God," Harry gasped. His hands clutched Charlene's hair, fingers curling through her tresses. His hips bucked, as if he couldn't control himself. Charlene cupped his balls with one hand, squeezing. Pumping. She drew her mouth back, then, with such a lewd slurping noise that Minerva wondered if she might faint. When her lips popped free, a thick line of gleaming spittle and...and cum connected her lips to Harry's member. She licked her lips, lewdly, and groaned.

"You taste so good, Harry," she said, slipping herself from the floor to the chair, which creaked under their weight.

"Please, I..." Harry seemed to not know what to say. Charlene took full advantage of that. Her hand reached down and her skirts rumpled up. For a delicious, tantalizing flash, Minerva was able to clearly see the cleft of her ass, the gleaming folds of her sex, the carefully maintained curls of her brown pubic hair. She started to rock her hips back and forth, one hand on Harry's shoulder, the other keeping her skirts hiked up. The movement of her hips slipped her...her cunt against his cocktip.

"Charlene, we should really-" Harry started.

She rocked her hips down. His member speared up into her, spreading the folds of her cunt. "Shh, just enjoy it," she whispered.

"W-What about, ahem, ah, ah, protection?" Harry sounded like a man reaching for flotsam in a typhoon.

"Shhh..." Charlene leaned in, kissing him.

"... well, that might be one way to solve a shortage of wizards," MInerva muttered under her breath, incredulously.

Minerva's hand had crept along her belly, inch by inch. She watched, raptly, as Charlene's ass jiggled slightly as she adjusted herself. Then the skirts swept down, concealing the point of joining. That didn't hide everything, though. Far from it. Charlene's top was still open, and Harry had lost his attempt to resist what she was offering. His palms cupped her. So strong. So forceful. The idea of someone strong and powerful taking hold of Minerva's breasts and...squeezing them...

She almost mewled. Her hand had slipped further down and, cheeks burning, her finger rubbed against her own crotch through her skirts. THere were so many layers of fabric between her finger and her center that she felt more frustrated than titillated, but the idea of actually pushing her hand under, of hiking her skirts up, of tugging her panties down, it was...it was too much. Minerva tortured herself with her finger and watched, raptly, as Charlene started to buck her hips, riding Harry with soft moans.

"Ah, your cock is so big," she whispered. "Your pureblood cock is driving me wild, Harry. Ah. Yes!" She leaned forward and kissed him. Harry's hands rumpled her skirts, gripping her ass as he fucked up against her, the chair squeaking now.

Minerva bit her knuckle to keep from moaning in frustrated need.

Part of her wanted to be Charlene at this moment. Harry was sweet and...she should want that, yes?

Harry cupped one of Charlene's bared breasts. He rolled her nipple, then tugged more fiercely, and Charlene threw her head back, moaning in pleasure. Her hips moved faster. Faster. The chair squeaked more insistantly and Minerva felt her teeth almost draw blood as she trembled and bucked her hips, desperately. But there was too much cloth. The barrier was too much for her to...to...

Harry groaned.

Charlene gasped out. "Yes! Fill me!"

And Minerva knew he was emptying himself inside of her, behind those skirts.

The two collapsed against one another, Charlene panting quietly. Forehead to forehead, she murmured sweetness to Harry.

Minerva, her cheeks burning, stepped away.

She hurried to her room.

Gina, who was adjusting a wireless set that Minerva hadn't even noticed before - it had been so covered in rococo decorations that she had mistaken it for a damn wine cabinet - lifted her gaze as Minerva stepped into the room.

"Is Harry okay?" she asked.

"Yes, fine!" Minerva said, cheeks still burning.

The wireless started and an inane commercial for soap started playing. It chased Minerva as she hurried to the private bedroom she had. She closed the door, stumbled to the bed, then threw herself face first into it. Her hand moved before she could stop herself.

She reached down, thrusting fingers beneath the hem of her skirts and then slipped them under her panties. Her pubic hair felt warm and soft against her fingers and then her own center felt so...wet. So needy. The first touch wrung from her a moan of such needy, desperate want that she felt her cheeks burn with shame. She buried her face against the pillows, to moan into them as she skipped preamble and build up. Three of her fingers buried themselves into her folds, stretching her - stretching her like... Harry would stretch her.

... right?

She tried to imagine herself in Charlene's place, what she would see, and it didn't work for her. It couldn't be Harry... maybe he wasn't right for her. She tried to imagine somebody else, someone... generic, the vague and indistinct but presumably real man she'd find one day, whose features could be a pleasant blur, but it wasn't working.

Her mind drifted, to the answer she had always sort of suspected and always, firmly, rejected. Titania, then, that surreal first night... but no, she was... not human, didn't count. Gina said it didn't count. Someone else, somebody...

She pictured, just for a moment, dear Petunia, and immediately withdrew from it. She couldn't, to even think of her that way was too much. She'd not do that to her, she'd have to leave her out. She loved her too much to picture her that way.

Her imaginary world settled on a pair of strong hands grabbing her lapels, sharp teeth and hot breath nearing her neck, an infuriating, entitled, intoxicating presence. Her thumb found her clit and rubbed fiercely as her hips bucked.

She would have to do. Minerva didn't have to care what she'd think of it.

The cresting pleasure that buzzed into her was like a wave. No, like a tsunami. It crashed into her and Minerva lost all control, her hips twitching up, thrusting against her own hand as she twitched and clenched and her eyes went blazing white. She gasped out a nameless groan that could have been anything - and her brain whirled with a confused swirl of hands and fingers, of teeth biting, of nipples being tugged.

The last image that settled as her hips bucked again and the washing rush of her joy hit her again was a hand cradling her mouth, a thumb thrusting into her tongue, a crooning voice. Yes, just like that, fraulein, cum for me like that...

Then...

She felt as if her strings had been cut. She slumped to the side, shuddering and panting as she withdrew her hands from between her thighs. The gleaming arousal that glittered on her hand, that drew spiderweb connections between them as she spread her fingers apart, was as much a testament to her shame as the burning of her cheeks and the sick, dark pleasure in her belly.

"Oy..." she whispered, then closed her eyes, feeling...wrung out.

Languid.

"Oh Minerva," she mumbled into her pillow. "You really are losing your mind."

***

For all the ominous words from Gina, the transition from mundane world to the Fae was less marked than Minerva had expected. The view through the window showed brilliant golds and greens, like the carefully organized fields and towns of England had been replaced with something primeval and pristine. But the trees grew too thick and close to show anything but hints of darker forest beyond - and then, a short few hours later, the curtains closed. The darkness beyond them seemed to still creep around the edges of the window - and the...strange temptation seemed to come to both Gina and Minerva at the same time: The temptation to draw the curtains back, to see what was beyond them.

The urge got the wireless running. THey sat and listened to the news - and it was a measure of how badly Gina wanted distraction. The League of Nations was accepting the Soviet Union. The Soviet General Secretary was recorded, and her voice came through the speaker in clear Russian, before a posh Englishwoman dubbed in the translation. "We will lead the world into a better and brighter future - new Soviet sciences and new Soviet traditions will be an example to the world..."

After the news, when both were too tired to keep their eyes open, Gina bade Minerva goodnight and both of them stepped into their bedrooms. The bedrooms, thankfully, had no windows, no curtains to tempt and tug at. Despite that, Minerva laid in her bed, tossing and turning - her mind consumed with the window and the curtains and whatever was beyond them.

Finally, though, she slept.

Sadly, that didn't provide comfort from confusion and fear.