Title: Love Is Only an Excuse to Hurt
Rating: PG-13 (Maybe R...)
Pairing: McGonagall/Hooch/Pince
Summary: "Break a heart of stone. Open it up, but don't you leave it alone."-Alice Cooper Disclaimers: I OWN NOTHING. Well...my soul, but that is it. I even think J.K owns that....O.o. But yes, all credit goes to the wonderful woman who created these characters!!!!!!!
*~Hooch's POV ~*
I watch her through the corner of my eye each time she brings the silver goblet of pumpkin juice to her thin, yet beautiful lips. Oh, how I envy the silver rim that belongs to the lifeless goblet. I would give anything to feel those soft lips upon my own, upon my body. Anything. Over the years of working at Hogwarts, I have come to believe I've fallen in love with the transfiguration teacher, the headmistress. Every day I wonder if she has some sort of feelings for me, the flying instructor. If she did, I couldn't tell. She hid her emotions so well...I hoped she hid them. Rather her having none at all. I never thought about that too much, it just hurt me all too well. I have thought about asking her. Of course I have. Yet, I don't. I fear rejection. I fear my hopes being washed away. As long as I continue to secretly love her without her knowing it, I can still hope. But, I do have my many doubts that run through my head. Why would Minerva McGonagall, this perfect distant, woman ever love a mere flying instructor. My title is that of Madam and certainly not Professor. How could the headmistress who is so well known for her stern and strict persona like a leant, spontaneous woman? I may come off as a tough woman, which I am no doubt, but people tend to think I need no one, only my broom and the opened sky. But, I too, need someone to love and to be loved in returned..... I quickly turn my head as she shifts her cat-like eyes towards my way. Suddenly my food becomes more interesting than anything before. I feel her sharp gaze on me, resulting a hint of red blushing over my high cheeks. 'Please don't notice. Please don't notice,' I mutter to myself over and over again as I quickly stuff my face with broccoli, making myself look barbaric.
~* McGonagall's POV*~
I feel eyes roam my slender, stiff body. Me being a cat animus pays off a great deal. Yet I cannot determine who it is. I keep my perfect posture as I bring the cool goblet to my lips, slowly sipping the sweet liquid it contains. But I still cannot enjoy it completely, knowing someone's gaze is rested on me. 'Who could it be?' A ask myself inside my head, where all secret thoughts are sealed away safely. The goblet makes a small clink on the oak table as I set it down. I take this opportunity to glance around the room through my glasses to find the one. I shift my eyes to the right. No one I notice is looking my way. To my left now. Hmm, no one. I furrow my brows slightly, feeling as if my cat senses were beginning to fail me. But soon I catch Madam Hooch acting particularly strange. Although, she was much different from all the other Professors. I slanted my head down ever so lightly, glancing at her through my square spectacles. She always had something in her that created a hint of a smile to appear on my face. Perhaps it was those stunning yellow hawk-like eyes or maybe her spunky personality. I have and always will envy such a woman. Her slender, toned, perfectly cut body. Her outgoing personality, always brushing off all the worries and stress in her life. But it wasn't just my envy for her; I had a thing for this Professor. For this...woman. Every time I watched her soar on her broom during the radiant sunsets, I desperately wished she were tangible. Not a picture I could only look at and marvel over what beauty it held. Wished those strong, rough hands to wander across my needy body......I snapped out of my thoughts as some professor tapped on my shoulder. I quickly cleared my throat and turned around, hoping I did not cause a stir of anything.
"Madam Pince has received a new book on the history of Quiddith," said the Headmaster, "I thought you would care to know my dear." He smiled lightly and that twinkle in his eye gleams.
I smile lightly and nod my head in agreement. Although, I wonder, for a mere second of course, why he would suggest that. Just now at this moment. Does he know? I mentally shrug it off, something I needn't worry about at the exact moment. I slowly shift my so-called grim stare back on her.
~ * Hooch's POV * ~
Her fixed leer on me, I begin to feel very giddy. My stomach is churning with intensity; my heart begins to pump faster, sending a rush of blood to my head. This is what this woman does to me each time she looks my way. She has made me lovesick. Only she, the Headmistress of this school could do such a thing to a woman who has blocked away love for her whole life. Placing my fork down, I casually look over her way with a relaxed smile I force on my face. Little does she know I am fighting not to look overly excited. She doesn't attempt to break her steady gaze on me. My smile is still painted on my face and in return I receive a polite nod and a rare small smile. My heart climbs with happiness and my palms become slightly clammy. Before I allow myself to make a complete fool of my self, I turn my gaze to the students, acting as if she was nothing of importance to me. My heart returns to its normal beat as I feel her eyes drift away from me. Those beautiful sharp hazel eyes I so desperately wish I could stare into for all eternity. Those beautiful cat eyes I wish I could always start my day with waking up to. My eyes wander about the room and soon fall on my now empty plate. I let out a satisfied sigh and rise from my seat in a normal manner. I glance one last time at the dear Transfiguration professor and soon turn about on my boot heel, making my leave. My boots create a loud clicking on the stone floors as I walk between two house tables, my dark blue robes whisking behind me due to my fast pace. Many of the students raise their hands, waving and smiling, greeting me with "Good- nights" and "See you tomorrow!" I return each one, always loving the student's acknowledgment for me. Once outside the Great Hall, I allow my radiant smile to drop. I take in a deep breath, allowing the used, warm air seep from my mouth slowly.
~ * Minerva's POV * ~
I continue to keep my eyes on her. I can't pry my fixed gaze off the beautiful flight instructor. Her silvery spiked hair. Her glowing yellow hawk-like eyes. She truly is a beautiful woman. I wonder every single night what it would be like to sleep with such a woman. How it would be to spend every day with her. To take evening broom rides, watching the sunset. I do realize I am older than her, but does it exactly matter? No. The real thing the matter is the fact that a woman like Xiomara would never fall for a woman such as my self. No one ever notices the old, stern transfiguration teacher. The cold, distant Headmistress of Hogwarts. I just can't seem to fake or force a smile. Not even a little one. I finally break my stare as I soon notice the dear Madam rise from her seat, slowly making her leave. Should I follow her or would that be considered stalking? I brush such a foolish thought from my mind, and decide I will go and check out new book Pince had received. Hoping it will take my mind off the flying professor. I too, choose to make my leave casually. I say my goodnights to the Headmaster and a few well-respected teachers. My emerald robes follow close behind as I walk down the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, collecting small particles of dust left by the students' shoes. I slow my steady pace down as I reach the large wooden doors I am so aware of. I open them slowly due to the fact of the weight they posses. As I enter the dark room, lit only by a mere torch, I come to find Pince sitting behind her station. I give her a light nod in way of saying 'evening'. I can tell she caught my nod through her small, thin glasses as she barely glanced over the brim of her large book. I shake my head lightly, and continue on my way; already knowing what section the new book should be under.
~ * Hooch's POV * ~
As the door closes behind me slowly, I propped my body against it, closing it completely. My eyes wander over to my bed, having some faith Minerva would be waiting there for me. I furrow my brows and shake the foolish thought from my mind, a few silver strands falling just above my eyes. I kick off my boots carelessly, not caring where they land. My tired legs from a day of flying drag my lean body to my unmade bed. The sheets are tangled and the comforter is half on the floor as it is on the bed. Another deep sigh escapes my mouth as I stop and take a look at my life. I begin to think I will not be able to hold in my emotions any longer. It begins to gnaw at my very soul, nag at my heart, eat my very mind and emotions. My eyes are closed and my knees have met the hard, cold floor. Before I know it, I feel the tears seep through my tightly closed eyes. The warm liquid leaving my body splashes on the very ground I rest so wearily on. I force myself to open my eyes and rise off the dampened floor. I take in a sharp, deep breath, enjoying the smug air filling my lungs. I enjoy it even more as it leaves my mouth and leaves me feeling hollow. 'Why am I doing this to myself? Why? The worst she can do is say no. But that is just the thing. Words can hurt more than actions. Would I rather die than her deny me of my love for her? I don't know. All I know is I am forced to tell her before I destroy my very being.' I dust off my robes, brushing my palms on them, flattening the creases I had caused from crinkling them up. I scurry to my boots and place them on, zippering them up in a heart beat. Tonight will be the night I tell her. Nothing will stop me now, nothing.
~ * Minerva * ~
Scanning the many rows of old, dusty books, I finally spot the new Quidditch book on the top self. I let out a somewhat irritated sigh, knowing I am going to have to strain to reach for the book. I get a firm grip onto a dusty self with my left hand, allowing me gain support as I stand on my tiptoes. My other hand reaches high above my head as I attempt to grab the book. Just making such an effort eases my mind off Hooch. My breathing becomes rough, resulting in not hearing the approaching footsteps behind me. I stop to catch a breath of air, my hand still in the air yet resting up against the large shelf, my toes praying for me to allow them rest on my heels, and my chest leaning as well against the shelf. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead and down to the tip of my nose. I consider then and there I shouldn't wear so many layers of clothes if such a simple task would cause me to sweat. I am caught off guard as a pair of slender arms wrap around my well-cut waist, concealed from the many layers of clothes. A sharp intake of breath soon follows after I am surprised. My eyes are widened, my very glasses sliding down to rest on the brim of my nose. Suddenly my heart skips a beat as I think perhaps it is Hooch. Could it be? Who else could it be...?
"Can I help you with that, Minerva," a sultry voice whispers ever so softly into my ear.
Their warm breath caresses my exposed neck. I begin to feel very vulnerable in the arms of someone I do not know who it is. I slowly open my eyes and hope this person speaks to me again. I could not determine whom the voice belonged too; I was too caught up in sudden actions brought upon myself. I can only distinguish it is that of a woman's. I refrain myself from jumping to conclusions, thinking it is Hooch. I slowly begin to turn my head to look over my shoulder and discover whom it is, holding me in their fragile arms. As my head it turned to the side I feel moist lips rest upon the nook of my neck. A flash of chills covers my body instantly.
"Yes," I finally respond a few moments later, trying to hide the excitement and yearning in my voice.
"Good," the woman says in a grim sort of way.
My eyes snap open as I can recall the voice.
~ * Hooch * ~
I make my way to the headmistresses' room with a smile of confidence on my face. I somehow feel she has some sort of feelings for me, the flying instructor. I feel it deep down, within my soul that she too has been yearning for someone. That someone being I. I hardly feel I am giving up my hope as I stop in front of her door. I clear my throat, straighten my robes, and create a loose fist to knock on the wooden door. As my hand is about to make contact with the wood, I hear my name called out. It is the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. I slowly turn around to meet his warm smile and twinkling eyes.
"My dear Madam Hooch. If you are looking for Minerva, you are to find her in the library," he says in a calm tone as if he knows something.
"Oh, thank you Albus," I smile lightly and nod my head as I begin to make my way to the library.
I can feel Albus watch as I leave, a smug smile of success painted on his face. I too can't help to have a broad smile upon my face. I continue down the long corridors that belong to the castle, making my way to the library.
~ * Minerva * ~
How could I have not known who it was in the first place? Before I can run any more thoughts through my head, I am abruptly spun around and pushed up against the heavy bookshelf. In the process my glasses fall to the floor with a loud clink next to my feet, lying there soon to be forgotten. My sharp hazel eyes meet her mysterious black ones. She is of the same height of me, causing me not to feel as vulnerable as I was. I know she can hear my grave breath, sense my years of pent up lust, my need to be touched in everyway. Yet, I will not allow her to do so...or so I thought...
"Madam Pince!" I say in a tone I would use for when I find a student in trouble.
"Shh." Her voice is steady and confident.
She keeps her strong, firm gaze upon mine, knowing I cannot trick her. I feel her hand travel up my arm and to the back of my head, fiddling with the many hairpins that keep my so well known bun in its place. After just mere seconds of her skillful page-turning fingers fiddling with the hairpins, my tight bun comes undone, sending a waterfall of my long black locks to cascade down my face and shoulders. I already feel so out-of- control. She runs her delicate hand through my long locks, tangling her fingers within the mass of hair. By instinct of such touch, my eyes slowly close. I don't try to stop her; my body won't allow me to do such an action. My body has needed such attention for so many years. Instead I find my body soon rebelling against my mind. My own arms have wrapped around her thin figure, my fingers roaming the small of her back. A low moan escapes my mouth as I feel her moist lips upon mine, just ever so slightly brushing against my lips. It feels so good I want more, so much more. She completely closes the gap between our two lean figures. Our lips entirely meet with force, her tongue wrenching open my mouth, slipping it in and playing with my own. I can only be submissive to such an action my body has desired for so many years. I picture Hooch inside of my closed eyelids. Wishing it was her I was kissing. I want that so much, that is what I begin to see. Sub- consciously I begin to pull up her gray robes with my skilled wand-waving fingers, wanting to feel her flesh against my fingertips. Our tongues persist on playing with another as I continue to fumble with her robes. She too has found something to keep her hands occupied. With one hand she begins to unbutton the many buttons of my dress, with the other she fondles one of my breast intensely. I am rewarded with a sharp moan as my slim fingers brush against her thigh and soon roughly scrape my fingernails alongside her smooth skin.
~ * Hooch * ~
I steady my shaky body. It is filled with adrenaline. The feeling I only get when I am only a few feet from the snitch, just about to catch it. I clear my throat, brush my robes down, and run a slightly rickety hand through my silverish hair. With sheer confidence, I open the doors, already scanning the large dark room filled with millions of books, looking for my dear Minerva. As I walk down the main pathway, I pass Irma's station, noticing she is not there. I faintly slow down my pace, cocking a brow in question. But I think nothing of it. Just because she is the librarian doesn't mean she is always in the library. I shrug it off and continue on my way in the search for Minerva. I not wish to call her name; in fear of ruining such a surprise I have in stock for her. I only hope she finds it a pleasant surprise. I come to a stop trying to recall what section she would be in. That doesn't help me at all since I know she loves to read almost anything. I let out a sigh and begin my stride again, glancing between each bookshelf, always hoping to see Minerva in the dimly lit room, holding a book, skimming through each page. I can still feel a bright smile painted on my face, so sure of my-self. As I near the back of the library I hear what I believe was a groan of some sort. Yet, not a groan of pain or hurt, but rather of pleasure. I stop breathing. My lower lip begins to tremble. My heart begins to sink. 'Please don't be what I think it is....' I try and reassure myself, but I am failing. I must see if it is what I hear. I don't want to do but I am forced to. My legs begin to carry my terrified self to where my ears hear such noises. As I get closer, the sounds of pleasure grow louder. I bite down hard, holding back burning tears that I am sure will cause me to melt if I allow them to seep from my eyes. I get closer, but don't know why. The sight of Madam Pince holding Minerva against the bookshelf finally greets me, her venomous lips upon McGonagalls'. I quickly turn my head to the floor, biting hard down on my teeth, holding in my pain and anger. 'I should have known. I should have fucking known.' I curse to myself as I catch another glance at the two so engulfed with one another. I slip in a space in between two bookshelves, hoping I had not been seen. I know my breathing is heavy, because it is so hard to breath. As I catch another peak of the two through a slit of the shelf and books, hurt hits me again. I have never felt so much pain. Never felt so weak. I am not as strong as I thought. In instinct I bring my hand over my heart, feeling it be utterly broken apart. My heart feels like it is cracked and made of stone. I hear another loud moan of pleasure fall from Minerva's mouth. In a counter-action I winch in pain. Each moan, whimper, groan of pleasure that comes from her lips, I am hit hard. I can't handle it anymore. I try and move but can't. My knees go weak and I fall to the ground once again. The throbbing stings I feel in my knees are nothing compared to what I feel in my heart. I was too late. She was my snitch and I didn't catch her. Pince did. I have failed myself. I lean forward, holding myself up with one hand as the other is clutching onto the robes that cover my chest. As if it couldn't get any more badly, I hear McGonagall shout out Irma's name as she comes, slamming her hands against the large bookshelf, books falling over from the impact. At that, the tears break free from my shielded eyes. I force myself up, having so much trouble. I begin to scurry off, trying to hold back the sobs that break out through my mouth and shake the images out of my head. I am not surprise they can't hear my cries of pain, why would they? I can no longer hurry off; I am far too out of breath for so many reasons. I completely stop as I reach the library doors that I swear to myself I will never enter again. I place my hand on the doorknob; ready to swing it open and get to my room where I will never come out the same woman I used to be. But I can't leave with out looking at the two new lovers one more time.
I whisper to myself as I look over my shoulder at the distant, almost hidden figures, "So this is how it is to be in love..."
Rating: PG-13 (Maybe R...)
Pairing: McGonagall/Hooch/Pince
Summary: "Break a heart of stone. Open it up, but don't you leave it alone."-Alice Cooper Disclaimers: I OWN NOTHING. Well...my soul, but that is it. I even think J.K owns that....O.o. But yes, all credit goes to the wonderful woman who created these characters!!!!!!!
*~Hooch's POV ~*
I watch her through the corner of my eye each time she brings the silver goblet of pumpkin juice to her thin, yet beautiful lips. Oh, how I envy the silver rim that belongs to the lifeless goblet. I would give anything to feel those soft lips upon my own, upon my body. Anything. Over the years of working at Hogwarts, I have come to believe I've fallen in love with the transfiguration teacher, the headmistress. Every day I wonder if she has some sort of feelings for me, the flying instructor. If she did, I couldn't tell. She hid her emotions so well...I hoped she hid them. Rather her having none at all. I never thought about that too much, it just hurt me all too well. I have thought about asking her. Of course I have. Yet, I don't. I fear rejection. I fear my hopes being washed away. As long as I continue to secretly love her without her knowing it, I can still hope. But, I do have my many doubts that run through my head. Why would Minerva McGonagall, this perfect distant, woman ever love a mere flying instructor. My title is that of Madam and certainly not Professor. How could the headmistress who is so well known for her stern and strict persona like a leant, spontaneous woman? I may come off as a tough woman, which I am no doubt, but people tend to think I need no one, only my broom and the opened sky. But, I too, need someone to love and to be loved in returned..... I quickly turn my head as she shifts her cat-like eyes towards my way. Suddenly my food becomes more interesting than anything before. I feel her sharp gaze on me, resulting a hint of red blushing over my high cheeks. 'Please don't notice. Please don't notice,' I mutter to myself over and over again as I quickly stuff my face with broccoli, making myself look barbaric.
~* McGonagall's POV*~
I feel eyes roam my slender, stiff body. Me being a cat animus pays off a great deal. Yet I cannot determine who it is. I keep my perfect posture as I bring the cool goblet to my lips, slowly sipping the sweet liquid it contains. But I still cannot enjoy it completely, knowing someone's gaze is rested on me. 'Who could it be?' A ask myself inside my head, where all secret thoughts are sealed away safely. The goblet makes a small clink on the oak table as I set it down. I take this opportunity to glance around the room through my glasses to find the one. I shift my eyes to the right. No one I notice is looking my way. To my left now. Hmm, no one. I furrow my brows slightly, feeling as if my cat senses were beginning to fail me. But soon I catch Madam Hooch acting particularly strange. Although, she was much different from all the other Professors. I slanted my head down ever so lightly, glancing at her through my square spectacles. She always had something in her that created a hint of a smile to appear on my face. Perhaps it was those stunning yellow hawk-like eyes or maybe her spunky personality. I have and always will envy such a woman. Her slender, toned, perfectly cut body. Her outgoing personality, always brushing off all the worries and stress in her life. But it wasn't just my envy for her; I had a thing for this Professor. For this...woman. Every time I watched her soar on her broom during the radiant sunsets, I desperately wished she were tangible. Not a picture I could only look at and marvel over what beauty it held. Wished those strong, rough hands to wander across my needy body......I snapped out of my thoughts as some professor tapped on my shoulder. I quickly cleared my throat and turned around, hoping I did not cause a stir of anything.
"Madam Pince has received a new book on the history of Quiddith," said the Headmaster, "I thought you would care to know my dear." He smiled lightly and that twinkle in his eye gleams.
I smile lightly and nod my head in agreement. Although, I wonder, for a mere second of course, why he would suggest that. Just now at this moment. Does he know? I mentally shrug it off, something I needn't worry about at the exact moment. I slowly shift my so-called grim stare back on her.
~ * Hooch's POV * ~
Her fixed leer on me, I begin to feel very giddy. My stomach is churning with intensity; my heart begins to pump faster, sending a rush of blood to my head. This is what this woman does to me each time she looks my way. She has made me lovesick. Only she, the Headmistress of this school could do such a thing to a woman who has blocked away love for her whole life. Placing my fork down, I casually look over her way with a relaxed smile I force on my face. Little does she know I am fighting not to look overly excited. She doesn't attempt to break her steady gaze on me. My smile is still painted on my face and in return I receive a polite nod and a rare small smile. My heart climbs with happiness and my palms become slightly clammy. Before I allow myself to make a complete fool of my self, I turn my gaze to the students, acting as if she was nothing of importance to me. My heart returns to its normal beat as I feel her eyes drift away from me. Those beautiful sharp hazel eyes I so desperately wish I could stare into for all eternity. Those beautiful cat eyes I wish I could always start my day with waking up to. My eyes wander about the room and soon fall on my now empty plate. I let out a satisfied sigh and rise from my seat in a normal manner. I glance one last time at the dear Transfiguration professor and soon turn about on my boot heel, making my leave. My boots create a loud clicking on the stone floors as I walk between two house tables, my dark blue robes whisking behind me due to my fast pace. Many of the students raise their hands, waving and smiling, greeting me with "Good- nights" and "See you tomorrow!" I return each one, always loving the student's acknowledgment for me. Once outside the Great Hall, I allow my radiant smile to drop. I take in a deep breath, allowing the used, warm air seep from my mouth slowly.
~ * Minerva's POV * ~
I continue to keep my eyes on her. I can't pry my fixed gaze off the beautiful flight instructor. Her silvery spiked hair. Her glowing yellow hawk-like eyes. She truly is a beautiful woman. I wonder every single night what it would be like to sleep with such a woman. How it would be to spend every day with her. To take evening broom rides, watching the sunset. I do realize I am older than her, but does it exactly matter? No. The real thing the matter is the fact that a woman like Xiomara would never fall for a woman such as my self. No one ever notices the old, stern transfiguration teacher. The cold, distant Headmistress of Hogwarts. I just can't seem to fake or force a smile. Not even a little one. I finally break my stare as I soon notice the dear Madam rise from her seat, slowly making her leave. Should I follow her or would that be considered stalking? I brush such a foolish thought from my mind, and decide I will go and check out new book Pince had received. Hoping it will take my mind off the flying professor. I too, choose to make my leave casually. I say my goodnights to the Headmaster and a few well-respected teachers. My emerald robes follow close behind as I walk down the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, collecting small particles of dust left by the students' shoes. I slow my steady pace down as I reach the large wooden doors I am so aware of. I open them slowly due to the fact of the weight they posses. As I enter the dark room, lit only by a mere torch, I come to find Pince sitting behind her station. I give her a light nod in way of saying 'evening'. I can tell she caught my nod through her small, thin glasses as she barely glanced over the brim of her large book. I shake my head lightly, and continue on my way; already knowing what section the new book should be under.
~ * Hooch's POV * ~
As the door closes behind me slowly, I propped my body against it, closing it completely. My eyes wander over to my bed, having some faith Minerva would be waiting there for me. I furrow my brows and shake the foolish thought from my mind, a few silver strands falling just above my eyes. I kick off my boots carelessly, not caring where they land. My tired legs from a day of flying drag my lean body to my unmade bed. The sheets are tangled and the comforter is half on the floor as it is on the bed. Another deep sigh escapes my mouth as I stop and take a look at my life. I begin to think I will not be able to hold in my emotions any longer. It begins to gnaw at my very soul, nag at my heart, eat my very mind and emotions. My eyes are closed and my knees have met the hard, cold floor. Before I know it, I feel the tears seep through my tightly closed eyes. The warm liquid leaving my body splashes on the very ground I rest so wearily on. I force myself to open my eyes and rise off the dampened floor. I take in a sharp, deep breath, enjoying the smug air filling my lungs. I enjoy it even more as it leaves my mouth and leaves me feeling hollow. 'Why am I doing this to myself? Why? The worst she can do is say no. But that is just the thing. Words can hurt more than actions. Would I rather die than her deny me of my love for her? I don't know. All I know is I am forced to tell her before I destroy my very being.' I dust off my robes, brushing my palms on them, flattening the creases I had caused from crinkling them up. I scurry to my boots and place them on, zippering them up in a heart beat. Tonight will be the night I tell her. Nothing will stop me now, nothing.
~ * Minerva * ~
Scanning the many rows of old, dusty books, I finally spot the new Quidditch book on the top self. I let out a somewhat irritated sigh, knowing I am going to have to strain to reach for the book. I get a firm grip onto a dusty self with my left hand, allowing me gain support as I stand on my tiptoes. My other hand reaches high above my head as I attempt to grab the book. Just making such an effort eases my mind off Hooch. My breathing becomes rough, resulting in not hearing the approaching footsteps behind me. I stop to catch a breath of air, my hand still in the air yet resting up against the large shelf, my toes praying for me to allow them rest on my heels, and my chest leaning as well against the shelf. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead and down to the tip of my nose. I consider then and there I shouldn't wear so many layers of clothes if such a simple task would cause me to sweat. I am caught off guard as a pair of slender arms wrap around my well-cut waist, concealed from the many layers of clothes. A sharp intake of breath soon follows after I am surprised. My eyes are widened, my very glasses sliding down to rest on the brim of my nose. Suddenly my heart skips a beat as I think perhaps it is Hooch. Could it be? Who else could it be...?
"Can I help you with that, Minerva," a sultry voice whispers ever so softly into my ear.
Their warm breath caresses my exposed neck. I begin to feel very vulnerable in the arms of someone I do not know who it is. I slowly open my eyes and hope this person speaks to me again. I could not determine whom the voice belonged too; I was too caught up in sudden actions brought upon myself. I can only distinguish it is that of a woman's. I refrain myself from jumping to conclusions, thinking it is Hooch. I slowly begin to turn my head to look over my shoulder and discover whom it is, holding me in their fragile arms. As my head it turned to the side I feel moist lips rest upon the nook of my neck. A flash of chills covers my body instantly.
"Yes," I finally respond a few moments later, trying to hide the excitement and yearning in my voice.
"Good," the woman says in a grim sort of way.
My eyes snap open as I can recall the voice.
~ * Hooch * ~
I make my way to the headmistresses' room with a smile of confidence on my face. I somehow feel she has some sort of feelings for me, the flying instructor. I feel it deep down, within my soul that she too has been yearning for someone. That someone being I. I hardly feel I am giving up my hope as I stop in front of her door. I clear my throat, straighten my robes, and create a loose fist to knock on the wooden door. As my hand is about to make contact with the wood, I hear my name called out. It is the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. I slowly turn around to meet his warm smile and twinkling eyes.
"My dear Madam Hooch. If you are looking for Minerva, you are to find her in the library," he says in a calm tone as if he knows something.
"Oh, thank you Albus," I smile lightly and nod my head as I begin to make my way to the library.
I can feel Albus watch as I leave, a smug smile of success painted on his face. I too can't help to have a broad smile upon my face. I continue down the long corridors that belong to the castle, making my way to the library.
~ * Minerva * ~
How could I have not known who it was in the first place? Before I can run any more thoughts through my head, I am abruptly spun around and pushed up against the heavy bookshelf. In the process my glasses fall to the floor with a loud clink next to my feet, lying there soon to be forgotten. My sharp hazel eyes meet her mysterious black ones. She is of the same height of me, causing me not to feel as vulnerable as I was. I know she can hear my grave breath, sense my years of pent up lust, my need to be touched in everyway. Yet, I will not allow her to do so...or so I thought...
"Madam Pince!" I say in a tone I would use for when I find a student in trouble.
"Shh." Her voice is steady and confident.
She keeps her strong, firm gaze upon mine, knowing I cannot trick her. I feel her hand travel up my arm and to the back of my head, fiddling with the many hairpins that keep my so well known bun in its place. After just mere seconds of her skillful page-turning fingers fiddling with the hairpins, my tight bun comes undone, sending a waterfall of my long black locks to cascade down my face and shoulders. I already feel so out-of- control. She runs her delicate hand through my long locks, tangling her fingers within the mass of hair. By instinct of such touch, my eyes slowly close. I don't try to stop her; my body won't allow me to do such an action. My body has needed such attention for so many years. Instead I find my body soon rebelling against my mind. My own arms have wrapped around her thin figure, my fingers roaming the small of her back. A low moan escapes my mouth as I feel her moist lips upon mine, just ever so slightly brushing against my lips. It feels so good I want more, so much more. She completely closes the gap between our two lean figures. Our lips entirely meet with force, her tongue wrenching open my mouth, slipping it in and playing with my own. I can only be submissive to such an action my body has desired for so many years. I picture Hooch inside of my closed eyelids. Wishing it was her I was kissing. I want that so much, that is what I begin to see. Sub- consciously I begin to pull up her gray robes with my skilled wand-waving fingers, wanting to feel her flesh against my fingertips. Our tongues persist on playing with another as I continue to fumble with her robes. She too has found something to keep her hands occupied. With one hand she begins to unbutton the many buttons of my dress, with the other she fondles one of my breast intensely. I am rewarded with a sharp moan as my slim fingers brush against her thigh and soon roughly scrape my fingernails alongside her smooth skin.
~ * Hooch * ~
I steady my shaky body. It is filled with adrenaline. The feeling I only get when I am only a few feet from the snitch, just about to catch it. I clear my throat, brush my robes down, and run a slightly rickety hand through my silverish hair. With sheer confidence, I open the doors, already scanning the large dark room filled with millions of books, looking for my dear Minerva. As I walk down the main pathway, I pass Irma's station, noticing she is not there. I faintly slow down my pace, cocking a brow in question. But I think nothing of it. Just because she is the librarian doesn't mean she is always in the library. I shrug it off and continue on my way in the search for Minerva. I not wish to call her name; in fear of ruining such a surprise I have in stock for her. I only hope she finds it a pleasant surprise. I come to a stop trying to recall what section she would be in. That doesn't help me at all since I know she loves to read almost anything. I let out a sigh and begin my stride again, glancing between each bookshelf, always hoping to see Minerva in the dimly lit room, holding a book, skimming through each page. I can still feel a bright smile painted on my face, so sure of my-self. As I near the back of the library I hear what I believe was a groan of some sort. Yet, not a groan of pain or hurt, but rather of pleasure. I stop breathing. My lower lip begins to tremble. My heart begins to sink. 'Please don't be what I think it is....' I try and reassure myself, but I am failing. I must see if it is what I hear. I don't want to do but I am forced to. My legs begin to carry my terrified self to where my ears hear such noises. As I get closer, the sounds of pleasure grow louder. I bite down hard, holding back burning tears that I am sure will cause me to melt if I allow them to seep from my eyes. I get closer, but don't know why. The sight of Madam Pince holding Minerva against the bookshelf finally greets me, her venomous lips upon McGonagalls'. I quickly turn my head to the floor, biting hard down on my teeth, holding in my pain and anger. 'I should have known. I should have fucking known.' I curse to myself as I catch another glance at the two so engulfed with one another. I slip in a space in between two bookshelves, hoping I had not been seen. I know my breathing is heavy, because it is so hard to breath. As I catch another peak of the two through a slit of the shelf and books, hurt hits me again. I have never felt so much pain. Never felt so weak. I am not as strong as I thought. In instinct I bring my hand over my heart, feeling it be utterly broken apart. My heart feels like it is cracked and made of stone. I hear another loud moan of pleasure fall from Minerva's mouth. In a counter-action I winch in pain. Each moan, whimper, groan of pleasure that comes from her lips, I am hit hard. I can't handle it anymore. I try and move but can't. My knees go weak and I fall to the ground once again. The throbbing stings I feel in my knees are nothing compared to what I feel in my heart. I was too late. She was my snitch and I didn't catch her. Pince did. I have failed myself. I lean forward, holding myself up with one hand as the other is clutching onto the robes that cover my chest. As if it couldn't get any more badly, I hear McGonagall shout out Irma's name as she comes, slamming her hands against the large bookshelf, books falling over from the impact. At that, the tears break free from my shielded eyes. I force myself up, having so much trouble. I begin to scurry off, trying to hold back the sobs that break out through my mouth and shake the images out of my head. I am not surprise they can't hear my cries of pain, why would they? I can no longer hurry off; I am far too out of breath for so many reasons. I completely stop as I reach the library doors that I swear to myself I will never enter again. I place my hand on the doorknob; ready to swing it open and get to my room where I will never come out the same woman I used to be. But I can't leave with out looking at the two new lovers one more time.
I whisper to myself as I look over my shoulder at the distant, almost hidden figures, "So this is how it is to be in love..."