I sat down this weekend and pounded this out so it may be a little rough around the edges. I had fun writing the animosity between cat and dog. Its unbetaed so I am sorry for any grammatical errors, it shouldn't detract from the story. Please review, but more importantly, enjoy.
Minerva hadn't felt this rested in years. She moved closer to the warmth at her side, reluctant to open her eyes and start the day just yet. She froze in surprise when her head met the bare skin of a man's chest rather than the pillow she had been expecting. What the hell was a man doing in her bed? She certainly didn't remember allowing one into her bed last night, in fact she couldn't remember going to bed at all last night. The last thing she did remember was standing on the doorstep of Grimauld Place, drenched to the bone.
Slowing she opened her eyes, blinking at the bright sunlight that slipped through the cracks around the heavy draperies, highlighting the dust motes dancing on the air. Her sharp eyes took in the unfamiliar room and she realized she never made it home last night.
Filled with apprehension, she turned to look at her bedmate. He was half turned away from her, bed sheets bunched low around his hips, revealing the top of her blue and white stripped pajama bottoms.
'At least he wasn't naked,' she thought to herself, not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Relieved because men usually didn't bother to pull pants on after sleeping with her, and disappointed because if the low half of him was as well defined as the upper portion, then she really wouldn't mind sleeping with him. A flash of heat ran through her veins and gathered in her core at these thoughts. Damn she needed to get laid.
The man's slightly curly brown hair had flopped over his eyes, covering his face from her. As she reached to brush it back and reveal his identity, she noticed her hand. Her youthful looking hand.
"Oh Shit," she cursed out loud, quickly snatching her hand back. But it was too late. The man sat straight up in bed, her words startling him into instant wakefulness. Big green eyes met sleepy gray ones and Minerva would have never guessed that the man sleeping next to her was Remus Lupin.
Both either could say a word, a loud pounding started up against the door, making it rattle in its frame.
"Remus you better be up you lazy bones!" Sirius hollered through the door.
Lupin and McGonagall stared at one another for a moment longer until the sound of door unlocking brought them back to their senses. "You better…" before he could even finish his sentence, she had stretched out and morphed gracefully into her cat form, "hide," he finished weakly. "I guess that works too," he said as she glared up at him, no less intimidating in this form then her human one.
"Oh just make yourself at home," Lupin grumbled at his friend as he walked into the room.
"This is my home," Black pointed out, "And what are you doing still in bed? Its nearly ten."
"I'm tired," Remus defended.
Sirius stopped short when he saw Lupin's bedmate. "What's with the cat?" he barked. Ever since he became a dog animagi, he and cats did not get along. As if Minerva could sense his feelings, she hissed at him causing Black to bare his teeth in response.
"Um, she must be the mouser Molly brought from the Burrow, said she kept seeing them in the kitchen." Remus put his hand on her body, petting her with a heavy hand to keep her from stalking off, indignant at being called a mouser. He had too many questions to allow her to just stalk off.
"Huh," Black grunted, "Just keep it away from me and Buckbeak or it may end up being someone's dinner." The cat hissed at him again as if she could understand his words. "Anyways," he continued on, never taking his eyes off the cat, "everyone else is up. Molly wants to tackle the master bedroom today, she says we need more sleeping space with everyone staying here over the holidays. We could use your help."
"Sure thing. Just let me clean up and grab a spot to eat."
Sirius Black nodded and gave one more glare at the cat before leaving, not caring when the door slammed behind him.
Remus blinked after his friend and when he turned back to his female guest, she was back in her human form, sheet clutched to her breast to preserve what was left of her modesty.
"What am I doing in your bed?" she demanded, voice tight with anger, "This is your bed I presume?"
Remus nodded, dumb struck that she would be asking the questions when he was boiling over with ones for her.
"Well speak up. What am I doing here?"
"You, um, you passed out last night in the foyer. I carried you up here and took off your robes. They were soaked through and I didn't want you to get sick," he blushed faintly under her glare that was no less powerful on her youthful face.
The glare softened somewhat at his words, but her words were no less cold. "And then fell asleep besides me? Why not just put me in a guest room?"
"Its Christmas holidays. Everyone is here."
She nodded and moved to get out of the bed. "I won't keep you any longer. Thank you for taking care of me last night."
Remus lunged forward and grabbed her wrist. "Oh no, I don't think so. You are not leaving this bed until you answer my questions."
Minerva turned her face away and struggled futilely to free herself from his strong grasp. "I have nothing to say to you."
"I think you do. I think you owe me an explanation as to why you hide your youth."
"I think not," she tried again to get away, but Lupin was ready for it and pulled her back on the bed with more force than either expected. Minerva landed on his broad, warm chest and Remus's hands instinctively went to her waist to steady her.
She caught a whiff of his scent- musky, masculine, and a hint of spicy canine- and her emerald green eyes darkened to a deep jade as lust coursed through her body. Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck to play with his hair. Lupin watched, fascinated by her sensuous beauty, unable or unwilling to move and break the spell.
She licked her lips and shifted her hips, feeling wetness gathering between her legs. She was going to kiss him. Remus hissed in pleasure as her movements caused her to brush against his growing erection and the sound caused Minerva to freeze, her lips inches from his. Her warm breath ghosted over his lips and Remus closed his eyes in anticipation of a kiss that never came.
Instead she pulled herself away from him, and escaped into his bathroom, snagging her now dry robes from the back of a chair as she went. The slam of the bathroom door brought Remus out of his lust filled haze. He sat up and stared about the room still dazed, running a shaky hand though his hair in a nervous habit.
In the bathroom, Minerva stood under the icy spray of the shower, trembling against the heat running through her body. This was not good. Not good at all. She cursed to herself as the ache in her core refused to diminish.
She stepped out just as the water was beginning to warm and roughly wiped away the tiny water droplets that clung to her skin. Fetching her wand from her robe pocket, she waved it over her underwear lying in a pile by the door, transfiguring it into a clean set of matching black. Pulling them on, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The black offset her creamy, pale skin and she felt a certain reluctance to cast the spell that made her go back to looking like an aging matron.
She was gathering up her long silky hair when Remus walked in. He stopped, hand still on the doorknob and stared at her, eyes nearly popping out of his head. "Do you always wear such… sexy undergarments?" he asked.
"Yes. Now get out," she answered calmly.
Obediently, Lupin backed out, pulling the door shut in his wake.
When she walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Remus was sitting on the bed clad in disheveled, yet clean robes. Her hair was up in her normal strict bun, square glasses perched on her nose, and high necked robes not giving a hint of the curvy figure Remus now knew was beneath. The only thing wrong with this image was she still looked young.
"You're not planning on going out there looking like that, are you?" he asked as she strode towards the door, trying to ignore him.
"Looking like what?" she wondered, clenching her hands into fists to avoid reaching up to touch her hair.
"Like you are thirty."
Minerva frowned, "I cast the glamour. I look sixty-five."
"No you don't."
She turned to face him, shock in her eyes, "Oh shit. You can see past my glamour. This is not good at all."
"Does this mean you are going to explain?"
"I don't think I have a choice now."