Harry Potter.
Harry had always found Minerva quite attractive. He didn't know why, but he had a thing for the old bat. They way she moved, talked, how the lines around her mouth would curve up ever so slightly when he answered a question correctly. Most people thought she was a strict, boring old lady, but not Harry. He simply adored her.
Sometimes, when no one was around him, or bothering him, he would grab his cloak, sneak into her classroom, and just watch her. He loved how she corrected at lightning speed, stopping only to rest her hand or rub her neck. It bothered him to see her alone, oh how he wanted to hold her, make all her problems disappear. He knew nothing would ever happen between them, but dammed if he wouldn't try!
Harry would dress very sexily and seductively during class, speaking in low husky tones, unbuttoning his shirt some, taking off his robe. He would even flash her a wonderful, bright smile whenever she looked at him, he did it all. Minerva however, seemed completely oblivious, but Harry never gave up. He'd always comment on how her robes seemed to fit just right, how good she looked in green, how her bun was always perfect. Sometimes she'd blush, sometimes she'd nod, and sometimes she'd crack the smallest of smiles.
One day, while the rest of the class was leaving, Harry walked over to her desk. It was a bold move, but he thought he'd go for it.
"Erm, Professor McGonagall?" He asked.
"Yes Mr. Potter?" she replied briskly.
"Well, I was, er, wondering, um, do you think you could give me some extra teaching…. that is, I mean, tutoring?"
Minerva stared at him. "What are you on about Potter? You get very good grades in my class, you've no need for a tutor." She exclaimed, slightly alarmed at his request for help.
Damn. He thought. There goes my chance... NO YOU FOOL! DON'T GIVE UP! Think Harry, think.
He stared at her for a second, oh how his heart ached for her. "Well you see Professor, that's all Hermione, I'm always asking for her help, and she gives me the answers. It's not really learning is it? I would really appreciate your help." He fluttered his eyelashes at her.
"Oh all right Potter." She said. "Be here at 8:00 and I'll help you out with whatever it is you need."
"Great! Thank you so much Professor!" Harry touched her hand lightly. Whoa big boy, keep it in your pants.
Professor McGonagall coughed awkwardly and Harry removed his hand quickly.
"Er… sorry." He said.
"It's…. alright." Said Minerva quietly, her eyes locked with Harry's. She quickly looked away and coughed awkwardly again. "Well, see you tonight Potter."
"Yes Professor." Said Harry, turning and walking out of the room. That was weird, he though, while smiling to himself. He quickly ran towards the Great Hall for supper.
Minerva McGonagall
What, in the name of god, was that? She thought while busying herself around her desk. When she looked into Harry's eyes, she saw… lust? But no, what would a handsome young man like him want with an old women like her? Well, a voice in her head said, some men do prefer older women. Minerva laughed out loud. What was she thinking? Although, he did touch her hand…
Did Potter have a schoolboy crush on her? Did she want him to? Did he only ask for help to be with her? Maybe… just maybe, he wanted her. Well, tonight was sure to prove something.
8:00. The tutor session.
Harry rushed down the hall. He wanted to be there exactly on time. That would impress her. He wore his sexiest outfit. A tight green t-shirt, which purposely showed off his tones muscles and abs, black pants, and black shoes. He knocked loudly on the door, heard a muffled come in, and open it.
His jaw dropped. Minerva looked amazing. He never though a women her age could look so… beautiful. No longer was her hair in a tight bun, but hung in ringlets around her head. She wore silky red robes, and had on the smallest amount of makeup. Harry had to close his mouth to stop the drooling.
Good god. He thought, is that Minerva?
"Ah, Potter, welcome, er, I mean, come in." her voice said, snapping him out of his trance.
Harry walked, almost gracefully to the seat next to her desk and sat down. Minerva sat down next to him.
"Now Potter," she said, glancing at his chest, "what is it that you need help with?"
Harry stared at her; he leaned in close to and whispered something in her ear. "Professor," he began, "I have a confession." Minerva looked at him skeptically, "I don't need help. I came her, to be with you."
The rest of the night was a blur. All Harry could remember was leaning in and kissing her, and her kissing back. He remembered how she winked at him seductively, walked off towards a door at the back of the classroom, and stepped inside the room behind it.
He remembered walking towards the door, and seeing her hand reach out and pull him by the shirt into the room. He remembered a bed, with lots of touching and kissing. He remembered an amazing feeling as he woke up the next morning in bed with her, snuggled up close to each other.
But if there was anything he was sure of, it was that he was getting straight O's in transfiguration that year.
