Minerva Gold and the Wand of Silver Pt. 14

Petunia nodded.

Then her brow furrowed.

"Wait, did you say girls?" Her eyes narrowed.

Minerva squirmed. She kicked herself for three times a fool.

"...ahem, several, actually," Minerva said, blushing and rubbing the nape of her neck, her eyes closing as she smiled sheepishly.

"My best friend has become a harlot!" Petunia exclaimed.

"Oh you!" Minerva grabbed onto Petunia's arm, tugging her close. "You're Miss I'm Sleeping with a man old enough to be her-"

"He's not old enough to be anything of the sort!" Petunia squeaked out before Minerva could utter the word Daddy.

"Well, I suppose I'm not one to talk..."

"Oh? Who was this?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Stevenson, er, uh, Melissa," Minerva said, her cheeks darkening.

Petunia narrowed her eyes even more. Minerva squirmed.

"Professor Melissa Stevenson," she whispered.

"Minerva, you minx!"

"In my defense, it has been quite educational," Minerva said, smiling wickedly. She forced her hand away from Petunia's thigh - she was not going to grope her friend. Even if her friend was making it exceedingly difficult to not just...to not just...she forced her mind back on track, and as she did so, something clicked into place. "Wait, you're not shocked that I'm a lesbian?" She asked, blinking slowly.

"That?" Petunia asked. "Lord, I knew that since we met, I'm long over my little panic about it. It's exceedingly obvious."

Minerva's head jerked upright. "You what?" she asked.

"Please, my sisters went to a proper boarding school, they had stories. Now..." Petunia paused. "I must ask, have you figured out... well, can you heal my leg?"

Minerva's amusement and offense vanished into smoke. She sighed.

"Not...I...that is, there..." Minerva groped for words. "I'm still working on my magics. I will learn to heal your leg. It's just more complicated than I expected and, ah, well, if you fail in casting your healing magics, it tends to cause rather nasty cancers." She winced at the idea. "But I...I just...I wanted to visit..."

"Oh so you claim!" Petunia's eyes opened to narrowed slits - and Minerva relaxed as she saw Petunia's glittering warmth in them. "Maybe you heard I'm dating a very wealthy man and wanted to borrow some money."

"Likely!" Minerva laughed. Petunia laughed back, then leaned against her. Minerva badly wished to whisk her away. She could see that Petunia couldn't stay with Mr. Smith, no matter how badly they both wanted it. And she could also see that Petunia here was...running quite a few dangerous risks. An unwed woman, laying with a black man in London? While it was not as suicidal as, say, the American South, it wasn't exactly a healthy long term way to survive.

It occurred to Minerva, somewhat bitterly, that Petunia probably knew that already, and figured it wouldn't much affect her longevity one way or another.

If only...

If...

Only.

Minerva cocked her head as a remarkable idea occurred to her.

"Petunia, how would you like to live among goblins for a time?" She asked, quietly.

Petunia cocked her head around. "W-What?"

"I can bring you with me. You...will have to be shrunk for the trip and hide in my pocket until I can sneak you into the village beside Hexgramatica, and then I can pay for you to have a room - you can pretend to be a wizard fairly easily, I...that could work," Minerva said, excitedly. Petunia gaped at her, sitting up.

"You can't be serious!" she said.

"Why not?" Minerva asked. "You're in an untenable position - as much as you may care for Mr. Smith, if either of you were found out, it'd be the end of you. And you can't live with him, and even if he wants you to go to him..."

"I can't just run out on him," Petunia said, horrified.

"Then we shall invite him too!" Minerva said, nodding sagely. "I can fit you both in my pockets. And...and we need mundane allies too. And if anyone is suited to taking on a wizard, it would be a Great War veteran." She lifted her chin, slightly. "Those awful Ars Magicka people I mentioned? They're going to go completely mad with the Masquerade being torn down." She smiled. "And I wager he'd be happy to see the back end of his relatives for a time."

Petunia stammered. "But...but that can't be legal, I'm sure they don't let us non-magical types into your school. A-And what about my job?"

"Damn the law and damn your job!" Minerva grabbed both of her hands, squeezing her. "Petunia, I want to whisk you away from all of this. You can't say you'd rather make bloody matchboxes rather than that!"

Petunia opened her mouth. She closed it. She looked aside.

"All I want is to stand on my own two legs..."

Minerva squeezed both of her hands with her left, her right cupping Petunia's cheek. "It is not weakness to accept help, Petunia. It's the greatest strength of them all, sometimes." She leaned in. "Please. I can't bear you staying in this awful place, working that hideous job, and...and..." She blushed. "And being so far from me."

Petunia blushed. She looked aside. She considered. "Will I like this Kat?" she asked, quietly.

The sudden and vivid image of a bed bound Petunia, her thighs spread, while Kat plowed into her with her impressive girlcock, the young mundane girl unable to even resist her overwhelming feminine strength, and unwilling to even try, exploded through Minerva's head. She was sure it'd be utterly impossible, Petunia seemed straight as an arrow and hooked on a man.

It didn't stop her brain, though.

"...will I?" Petunia asked.

"Yes, quite! And I think Kat would like Mr. Smith," she said, nodding.

Petunia frowned. "Very well. I...does this spell require some...some ritual or something?"

"Not in the slightest," Minerva said. She stood and stretched, her back popping. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Petunia taking in her nude form and saw the attentive gleam in those blue eyes. That little excited spark was enough to make Minerva feel like ten Professor Stevenson's at once. She grinned, then held up her wand, snatching it from the floor where it had rolled. Her stomach growled - she had been casting without food for a while - but she supposed she was good for one more spell. She aimed, then flicked. "Kemb Subtrahe Miċelnes Wif!"

Petunia glowed and Minerva felt her head wobble slightly - she had rarely cast a spell with four words, and she felt the extra tug of energy. She kept her focus as Petunia shrunk and shrunk and shrunk, until she was the size of a pencil at best. Her voice squeaked, tiny and high pitched. "Oh lord!"

"See?" Minerva said, starting to dress with a grin. "Now, you fit into my pocket."

Petunia's voice squeaked: "But what about my clothes? My crutch? My stuff?"

Minerva glanced around. "I think I can pack most of this in the desk." She smiled. "Imagine if I had a proper broom, eh?"

"I'd rather not!" Petunia squeaked.

They flew from the building as Petunia stuck her head from Minerva's pocket. "His house is this way," she said.

Minerva nodded as they soared over London, and towards the townhouse home of Mr. Smith. They came down towards the front window, and Minerva glanced at the city skies. She knew that they only had a limited amount of time to get this done before Captain Cordwine would be back at the position he had offered her. So, she-

She swung her head around and found herself nose to barrel with what appeared to be a quite deadly looking bolt action rifle, held in the steady hands of one Gregory Klamath Utah Smith. He frowned, intently.

"So," he said. "You are a witch."

Minerva raised her hands and smiled.

"Hello, Gregory!" Petunia chirruped, lifting her head and arm from Minerva's pocket.