Because once this was a "list" and that is "not allowed", I make alterations to make it a "fic". Translation, I fight the Slytherin way.

Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall sat in the Staffroom, both cursing Albus latest idea. Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout were there as well, though they seemed a little less offended than Severus and Minerva. The esteemed Headmaster had decided to hand out a student wide homework assignment, which involved every student in every House and every year to write a fictional story which must take place at Hogwarts and include at least one staff member as a character. He called it a post war moral booster, though he left the Heads of each House in charge of going over each and every one of the stories. Typical Albus.

"What are we even grading on?" Minerva asked grumpily.

"Originality and writing skills, I believe," Pomona replied. "Though I'm giving extra points for any students who had the nerve to write about Severus."

"And his..." Minerva peered at the page she was currently reading, "ten inch, raging hard on?"

Severus looked sharply up. "WHAT?"

"You seem to be subject to many a young lady's fantasy, Severus," Pomona chuckled.

"And a few of the young men," Filius added.

"You cannot be serious," Severus said, groaning. "Why couldn't Albus have at least told the students to not have explicit content."

"I don't mind the sex," Filius argued. "Though the improper use of prologues epilogues is driving me spare. Prologue is not a fancy word for chapter one. It is a piece that precedes the story, set apart by either time, or by a point of view not used in the rest of the story, in which the scene depicts something only that side character can show. And epilogues are not to be about who is shagging who. They are about tying off loose ends."

Minerva chuckled. "I'd be thrilled if the students would simply keep their portrayals of us in character. Or at least justified the alterations. If one depicts a character with a personality which is inconsistent with how they truly are, there should always be a good reason for it. Just because is not a reason."

"What about the ones that try to rush an expansive plot idea?" Pomona asked. "Good things come to those who wait, people say. Stories should not be rushed on account of anything. If you can tell the tale in three feet of parchment, great, tell it. If telling it in three feet of parchment means the last chapter has enough plot in it for another three feet…"

"Don't do it," Filius agreed. "Say, Pomona, I'm running into a pile of these stories in which you and I have been secretly carrying on a steamy affair for years. Fancy that!"

"Well I do keep asking you to dinner, my dear," Pomona shrugged. "You're the one intent on being a crusty old bachelor. I loved you the day we met, which I've told you."

Filius scoffed. "Pomona, people do not fall in love overnight. Love at first sight is cliche and unrealistic. Even when a person feels an attraction from day one, they do not rush into bed the same day. This is the way of dogs in heat. Not people. Not characters. Unless they are sluts. Then it's workable."

"I'm not a slut, and it's been nearly three decades," Pomona laughed.

"Yes, well, I like to take things slow," the Charms Professor grumbled. "We've gone on dates, after all."

"We've been on a date, and it was four years ago for the Yule Ball, and the Headmaster ordered you to escort me!"

"He did, I remember that," Minerva defended her friend. "Just like he ordered me to go with him."

Severus smirked. "He ordered me to take Septima. Of course, I agreed, but at the last minute she sadly got food poisoning and was unable to attend."

"Severus you didn't!" Pomona gasped.

"According to this rubbish," he said, looking at the piles of parchment at each of their tables, "I've done much worse. Seems to be a common theme for me to deflower girls the day they turn seventeen."

"I've seen a few where the girls were even younger," Minerva said, laughing at the horrified look on his face.

Severus recovered quickly. "I just finished reading a story, one that was actually rather well written, in which you're madly in love with and shagging the daylights out of Hermione Granger."

Minerva gaped. "Who wrote that?!"

The Potion Master grinned. "Hermione Granger."

"WHAT?!"

"Really, Minerva," Filius said, frowning. "Is that so surprising. Granger has been crazy about you for years!"

"She has," Pomona agreed. "Smitten."

"You're barking mad," the Scottish woman ground out.

"I think you fancy her right back," Severus accused. "And honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if this whole damn event was Albus way of giving Granger a chance to make her feelings known to you."

"Didn't she just break things off with Weasley?" Minerva asked, ignoring the Potions Master. "The dissolution of previous relationships sometimes happen overnight. However, parties involved in this dissolution do not jump into new relationships right away, unless they are emotionally unstable. Ending a relationship is hard. It is a grieving process, no matter why it was ended. Death, cheating, just drifting apart… all of them need to be processed before moving forward. Thus, Hermione cannot possibly be interested in my in a healthy manner if she is interested at all."

"She may just really want to shag," Severus suggested.

Pomona added her thoughts. "Sex and new relationships are not one in the same. Rebound shags are fair game. Just call it what it is, even if it builds to something more later. Which in the case of you and Granger, I find very likely."

"I'd say as likely as Severus and Potter," Minerva ground out.

"You mean the attractive young man who sneaks into Hogwarts every evening to have dinner with me?" Severus asked. "After which we bugger each other into the mattress?"

"Seriously?" Minerva asked, stunned. "You and Harry? What happened to hating his guts?"

"I believe the term is personal growth. It's what makes life, or a fictional story worth a damned, go somewhere. If people do not grow, change, or learn, then their whole life will seem hollow. Believe me, I learned this the hard way. It's like, if your life is a muggle car, and you are the driver. No driver, car crashes. No personal growth, hallow life."

Pomona, it seemed, was still trying to work on their grading project. "Oh sweet Merlin this is horrible. I do believe I will be giving my first troll grade in three decades of teaching."

"What is it, dear?" Filius asked.

"Well, in this story, Harry Potter is shagging Molly Weasley - poor Arthur has been killed off - and young Ginny is dating Draco Malfoy… who has been left destitute after the Ministry seized his family fortune…"

"The Ministry has no power over Gringotts…" Minerva groaned.

"Oh," Pomona continued. "Now Ginny and Molly are both pregnant, but - good gracious - Molly dies in childbirth. Harry is distraught, of course. Oh, my… now he's taking comfort in the arms of Charlie Weasley."

"Is that all?" Severus said, laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

"No, there's also a side plot of Fred Weasley being married to Minerva's Hermione…"

"She is not mine…" Minerva protested.

"And Fred is a wife beater," Pomona finished. Good heavens, I know that conflict comes in many forms. There are stories that don't have enough conflict to be interesting, and then there are Soap Operas. One should strive for a middle ground. Do not cross the Soap Opera line. Ever. This crossed the Soap Opera line too many times to count."

"Did it at least give a reason for the change of feelings between Ginny and Draco?" Filius wanted to know. "Couldn't they have just been friends? People, or in this case characters previously known to be unfriendly to each other, who come to be friendly, do not always need to shag. Being friends is fine. Really, besties are great and having sex with them does not make it better. It makes it overkill."

"Bestie?" Minerva smirked. "Really Filius, that is very muggle lingo."

"Hazard of having a long time friend who is muggleborn, and worse, American," he bemoaned. "Though I'd not have it any other way."

Suddenly, Severus growled loudly. "For the record, cutsie names are not cute. They are annoying. Remember Lavender Brown calling Ronald Weasley Won-Won and how much it made everyone want to sick up? For fuck's sake don't any of you ever call me Sevy."

"Or me, Minnie," Minerva agreed, having found a story which did feature that nickname for herself. "And, when naming supposed offspring, remember that only Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore can get away with more than one middle name!"

"Too true!" Pomona agreed with a giggle. "What was his mother thinking?"

"Oh, a lesson to that that American exchange student of yours, Pomona," Severus said, looking up from the paper he was currently reading. "One should research British terms before using them. Never will you hear a Brit call a gay man a fag. That is what we call cigarettes. Gay men are called poofs, if one must be crude like that at all. Also - Minerva you have a son in this story - one should never, ever name a male character Randy. For Mister Lehman's information, in Britain, randy means horny. Randal is useable. But never Randy. Poor Randy McGonagall would be killed his first year of Hogwarts. Even the Hufflepuffs would tease him mercilessly."

Pomona laughed at that. "Too true! Though Minerva, I'm sure Hermione would never name her son such a horrid name. She'd pick something sensible. Hugo, perhaps. That would sound lovely with McGonagall."

"As Hermione and I are not an item, what she may or may not name her son has nothing to do with my surname," Minerva grouched, looking back down at the story she was reviewing. "Oh for Merlin's sake, before any of these students should be writing anything, they ought to learn how to write! Proper nouns are to be capitalized. There is such a thing as a paragraph. Beware the run on sentence. Commas are useful, but should not be used as glitter. As dialogue changes to a new person speaking, you start a new paragraph - unless said dialogue is related to the paragraph before - and most important of all… learn how to spell!"

"I'd settle for some imagery," Filius said. "Readers cannot see what's in your head. If you see it in your mind, write it. Give your readers the senses. What are you seeing? Hearing? Smelling? Who is touching what? That in mind, don't be Tolkien. Conversation is also nice as you're writing all about the wonderfully carved hickory headboard, which smells of fresh polish and tastes like the peanut butter you dropped on it the night before."

"Peanut butter, Filius?" Pomona asked with a flirty grin.

"Long story," he muttered.

"Along the same point, would be good to link conversation with description," Minerva mused. "Build them together. Rather than "Pass the salt," he said. try for something along the lines of He eagerly reached across the oak tabletop and scooped some green beans onto his plate. "Pass the salt," he said."

"Though," Filius cautioned, "do not overuse said. Words like suggested, promised, requested, stated, answered, demanded, and observed all work to not only give your character the power of speech, but to also give emotion to the scene. Further, when using said, or any other word in its place, you may also add description to it. "Pass the salt," he requested as he leaned forward to scoop some green beans onto his plate. That is good writing."

Minerva grinned. "Also, there is a fine line between being so loquacious that your avid readers become so confuddled by your expansive vocabulary that they deem themselves in need of a dictionary… and using a words that really do suit the scene or the feeling and help people to expand their vocabularies out of interest, rather than exasperation."

"And yet," Severus teased, "I often think I need a dictionary on hand just to carry on a conversation with you."

"It's not my fault that you don't know what lachadastical means," she replied, referencing a conversation they'd had only a week prior.

"Then, of course, there's titles," Pomona muttered, eyes scanning another story. "Miss, Mister, Madam, Professor, Doctor, and all other titles are to be capitalized. May this student's parents backslap him for not showing the propor respect."

"Who's story?" Severus inquired.

"Gregory Goyle."

"I'm fairly certain he was born with a large chunk of his brain missing," Severus sighed. "He can't help it."

"Well in that case…" Pomona muttered.

Suddenly, Minerva started laughing. "Merlin save the Ministry if Seamus Finnigan ever tries to get a job in spell development. When inventing new spells for the sake of a story, and wanting to be authentic, it may help to know at least some Latin. He put in a spell - controlamind withbabydung - something that apparently allows for the control of someone else's mind with the power of an infant's feces. If such a spell existed, it would be, what…?"

"Imperimens infalvum, likely," Filius offered, joining in the laughter.

"Oh, Minerva, I just found another story which features you in a relationship with Hermione!" Pomona suddenly said, excited.

"Oh, who wrote that one?" Minerva asked.

"Ginny Weasley," Pomona replied. "And there's an author's note at the bottom here… Professor, seriously, ask her out already. Her pining away is driving me nuts. She's been at it since fifth year."

"Harry has said much the same," Severus admitted.

"Ah, just found Luna's," Filius exclaimed. "And just as I thought, it's another Minerva and Hermione story. Ohh… my… this one is rather graphic."

He tore his eyes away, blushing.

Pomona grabbed the roll of parchment and scanned all the way to the end. "Ah, yes, Luna wishes to tell you that she has walked in on Hermione masturbating in the Library more than once. Moaning your name, Minerva."

"Oh good lord," Minerva blushed, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"Minerva, does that picture arouse you?" Severus asked, looking at the way she crossed her legs.

"Should it?" she asked, trying to sound indifferent. They all could tell that she was, in fact, very aroused.

"It arouses me," Severus said pointedly, "And I'm very much gay."

"Yes, yes," Filius agreed. "And buggering the Savior of the Wizarding World into your mattress and all that. Though really, Minerva, stop pretending. We all know you're crazy about her as Severus found that notebook of yours and showed Pomona and I. You know, the one in which you doodled Hermione McGonagall over and over…"

"And over and over," Pomona agreed.

"Oh bugger!" Minerva huffed. "Fine then, I fancy her."

"Well what are you waiting for then?" Severus asked. "Go find the swot. Get your happily ever after. Merlin knows you deserve it."

"That's sweet," she replied.

"Seriously, go," Severus pushed. "I can't look at you right now without imagining Granger going down on you and it's making me feel an odd combination of turned on and horrified so please, go away. Filius, Pomona and I can finish these off."

"If you're sure…" Minerva said slowly.

"GO!" all three of them shouted.

And with a final, grateful glance at her friends, Minerva McGonagall went to find the young woman who had her heart; the one and only Hermione Granger.