OF BALLS AND BED-SHEETS
Disclaimer: None of the characters etc. belong to me (more's the pity sigh)
Rating: M (if anyone knows what that actually means…)
"What on earth are you supposed to be?" were the first words out of Severus' mouth as he stepped out of the archway that had lead him up from the dungeons and into the entrance hall
"I, my dear boy," the Headmaster began, "am Mr Willy Wonka." This last was said in some heinous attempt at a German accent.
"He says that as if it explains everything to everyone," came the familiar frustrated reply. "Now would you two hurry up or we are all going to be late."
"And heaven forbid Minerva McGonagall be late for anything – even a Ministry Hallowe'en ball," Albus said with mock angst dripping from his every word.
"Well the muggle government has been invited – the least we can do is be on time," she said as she ushered them out of the castle's front door.
"For both of your information," Albus continued as they walked down the drive towards the gate, "Willy Wonka is a character from a very popular muggle children's book – Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."
"And how, if I dare to ask, does Willy Wonka relate to you?" Severus asked eyeing the purple velvet jacket and the bottle green trousers that the other man was currently wearing. After all, the invitations issued by the Ministry had stated three facts; costumes were compulsory, all costumes should be recognised by the muggle guests and the costumes should have some relation to the person wearing them.
"He happens to run the most amazing chocolate and sweet factory in the world."
"Now that does explain an awful lot," Minerva pointed out, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards. "And at a guess – I would place you Severus, as one James Bond," she continued and he couldn't help but smooth out his dinner jacket and straighten his bow tie.
"007? Spy extraordinaire?" Albus asked with a familiar twinkle in his eye.
"I think the phrase we're looking for is 'Bond, James Bond'," he replied entirely deadpan. The gates opened automatically before them with a squeak, and they stepped through it and out of the anti-apparition wards around the castle.
"Well, at least you look reasonable," Minerva said, scowling a little at Albus' attire. "And I think the shorter hair rather suits you," she added before wrapping her deep green velvet travelling cloak more tightly around her and apparating away. Looking to the other man it seemed that the Headmaster was not in a mood to have his enthusiasm dampened by his less positive deputy, he simply winked at the Slytherin before disapparating himself.
When Severus arrived at the designated arrival point at the Ministry he found himself being approached by a house-elf and asked for his coat. He shooed it away: it was a long-standing habit from the war that he liked to have immediate access to all of his possessions should he need to leave post haste. His eye was drawn however to where his colleagues were standing.
"Albus – did you really have to were such a bright costume?" she began handing her cloak to the nearby elf. "Everyone's looking at us and it's really not dignified for someone of your position…."
"My dear Minerva," the older man said with a chuckle, "I don't think they're looking at me – or Severus for that matter. It's you that's caught their attention if I'm not very much mistaken."
"I don't think you are Albus," Severus piped up, stepping over to join them.
"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped, but she did dip her head in an attempt to hide a flare of colour spreading across her cheeks. There was no denying it however. The ballroom was already half full, and a large number of those already there were looking directly at Hogwarts' formidable Deputy Headmistress: it was little wonder either. There was no need to ask whom she had come as. Minerva the goddess of wisdom and war was written all over her. Her hair was pinned up in dark curls, cascading down her back and around a sparkling golden circlet. The delicate fabric of her white dress clung to curves that he would never have suspected existed and fell in a puddle around her feet. Picking up her heavy tome and her spear she looked pointedly at both of them. "Well let's go get these blasted pictures taken shall we? Merlin knows I need a drink if I'm going to survive tonight."
"Ron – are you ready yet?" Harry called from in front of the mirror in the hall. He loved Ron he really did, but he took longer in the bathroom than any woman he had ever known.
"Just about." Harry wasn't going to take him at his word – he'd said that ten minutes ago.
"You do know that she's not going to be there," he said straightening out his mask.
"I know," Ron said having finally come out into the hallway. "She has to go to Lavender's parents."
"Oh – give it a break mate. It's not as if you'd want to see her anyway." The 'her' in question was of course Hermione, Ron's fairly recently ex-girlfriend. She was something of a taboo subject however, after she had thrown him out of their flat, adding insult to injury by pointing out that there wasn't another man so much as another woman…
In any case, his best friend had turned up on his doorstep and had yet to leave.
"Right Batman – let's go shall we?" the redhead said eventually having pulled on his mask. "I can't wait to see what Snape turns up as."
"Alright Robin, let's get going then. After all, we did promise your Dad we'd be relatively on time." After the end of the second war, Mr Weasley had taken over as the Minister for Magic, and after the last battle they, as well as the rest of the Order, had become something of public heroes, hence his current attire. 'Nahnah nahnah nahnah nahnah, nahnah nahnah nahnah nahnah nah nah!" Was running incessantly through his head as they walked the short distance to the Ministry, capes blowing in the wind behind them.
"These things are really uncomfortable," Ron hissed in his ear as they climbed the front steps. "Tights are bad enough – but tights underneath your pants… that's just wrong." Harry didn't want to think about why Ron hadn't simply worn his own underwear underneath the costume. He decided he didn't want to know anymore about it… "They chafe!" he moaned.
"Oh, for goodness sake," Harry mumbled and used his wand to cast a quick lubrication charm.
"Ahhh, thanks mate." Sometimes he wondered how it was that he'd managed to keep Hermione for as long as he had.
Having just dealt with having their picture taken (and signing it 'love Batman and his sexy side-kick Robin') so that it was ready to be pinned up on the board with the others, Harry decided he was overdue a drink.
"What'll you be having Ron?" he asked the back of his friend's head as the other man perused all the other pictures.
"Ah pint thanks. And a whiskey chaser – better make that a double." Rolling his eyes he realised that there was no point in arguing with Ron if he was intending on getting wasted which it was fairly plain he did. The bar was well staffed, thankfully, and the mask meant that he was relatively anonymous for the time being, so it wasn't long before he managed to make it back.
"Harry!" Ron almost squealed at him as he approached. "Check this one out!" He urged thrusting a picture he had taken from the board at him before taking his glasses and downing half the pint in one. Harry, taking the picture with his newly freed hand he quickly identified the Hogwarts contingent.
"Well Dumbledore looks as though he's having a ball – I'd wager that he's Willy Wonka. Snape seems to have come up with something not too far out of his comfort zone…"
"Stuff Snape – it's McGo…. Prof…" he stuttered, his colour rising and rising till he was positively pink.
"Ah," said Harry, turning his attention to their former Head of House. Well, Ron certainly had a point she looked… well she looked suddenly like a woman as apposed to a teacher and not a bad looking woman at that. Scratch that she looked stunning, even if she did seem to be slightly less than pleased at being asked to pose. Before he could comment on this however, the Deputy Minister for Magic had swept down on them and dragged Harry away.
Minerva downed another gilliwater and decided to actively try and not think about how many she'd already had. That was what three wars and working with Albus Dumbledore for fifty years did to you, she thought searching the room for someone she could hold something approximating an intelligent conversation with. She was missing the presence of Miss Granger, but given what Albus had told her over tea last week, she was hardly surprised the young woman had decided not to come. Miss Weasley was there, dressed in a power suit and red hair carefully quaffed, the new rising star at the Ministry charading as the only female muggle Prime Minister, but she was deep in conversation with Harry in a secluded corner.
"Minerva?" Mr Weasley's voice broke through her distracted thoughts and broke her down to earth. "Can I tempt the goddess to a dance perchance?" He was so charming that she couldn't help but smile and offer him her hand in tacit agreement. He and Molly were both dressed as what she thought to be a Dickensian characters but she couldn't be certain which.
"I just wanted to say," the Minister for Magic said leaning in close, from where they danced at a respectable distance, "that Molly and I both agree that you look absolutely stunning tonight. A true goddess."
"Th…thank you," she managed after a minute, as she ducked her head to avoid having to look him in the eye. She'd never been particularly vain, and certainly wasn't used to being complimented like this, none the less she blamed the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks on the alcohol rather than anything more… frivolous. She was rescued however, as the Head of International Wizarding and Muggle Relations, another former student, full of apologies, interrupted them to drag Arthur away to talk to some high-flying official. She waved them off with a small smile, assuring them that she wouldn't hold a grudge, and retreated away from the dance floor and back to her table.
She watched as Ronald Weasley weaved his way around the outside of the room, pulling at his costume and eventually pulling his mask off. As he did, he caught her eye and offered her a smile. Mildly amused she returned it, wondering quite how much he had already had to drink. She did feel for the youngest Weasley boy: he was, after all, the best friend of one of the most famous wizards in society and thus seemed continually shunted to the side, ever the sidekick and never the centre of attention. She supposed that their choices of costume had been quite appropriate, from what she knew of the muggle super heroes. In any case, she was however mildly surprised when the said former student began drifting in her direction.
"Good evening Mr Weasley," she greeted, automatically shifting to sit more upright and cross her legs. Suddenly she wished that she had come as something that had a less revealing costume.
"Night Professor – Minerva… do you mind if I call you Minerva? And I'm Ron of course…"
"Of course Ronald," she replied.
"Can I get you a drink?" he asked snapping his fingers so that one of the many house elves appeared.
"I'll have a double whiskey on ice," he began and looked at her for just a moment. "and I suspect the lady'll have a gilliwater…"
"That would be very nice, thank you." When the elf had delivered their drinks she found it almost amusing that Ronald, moved his chair closer to her own and attempted to cross his legs before deciding that that wasn't going to work. He really did look quite ridiculous, somehow Harry seemed to pull the look off better.
"So… how have things been up at the castle?"
"Oh – they go," she replied, knowing full well that he really couldn't care less about classes and difficult students and problems with the Board of Governors.
"And do you… you know – manage to get out at all?"
"Out?"
"Yeah you know – to the Three Broomsticks or you know the Hogshead?" She wasn't certain that he was managing to focus on her but she was fairly certain that he had planted his hand on her knee. "'Cause, you know – an attractive woman like you… it'd be a crime to stop you from having fun. And you are very attractive you know – totally stunning really…" Oh Merlin, his hand was definitely trying to travel further up her leg, and he was leaning in closer to her, almost as if he were going to try and kiss her… Well of all the drunken pranks, she was hardly likely to fall for that one now was she… and even if there was no bet she had no intention of being kissed by a drunken twenty-two year old.
"Believe it or not Mr Weasley – I have plenty fun within the castle walls. Now if you'll please excuse me," she murmured standing up, but Ronald was quick to follow her before stumbling into her, virtually trapping her against the wall. He took a step back, which gave her a little more freedom but hardly enough to escape from.
"I used to imagine what you would look like with your hair down…" he mumbled in her ear as she frantically conducted a visual search of the room hoping to locate Albus, or anyone else for that matter, who might be able to provide her with some help. "... but I never imagined…"
"That's quite enough Mr Weasley," Minerva began quite harshly. "You have obviously had more than enough to drink for tonight, so kindly remove your hands and let me go." Suddenly he looked more like the schoolboy she had taught than ever. He stepped aside without a word and she pushed past him and out onto the floor trying with all her might not to look too flustered. She spotted Severus entering the room from the gardens and decided he was going to be her lifeline whether he knew it or not.
"Severus!" she called, getting his attention and pulled at his arm so that he was facing the direction from which she had just come.
"Well, hello there Minerva – what can I do for you?" he asked with that sly smile of his.
"You can tell me if the youngest Mr Weasley's watching," she said, resisting the urge to sigh and run a hand over her face.
"I wouldn't say so much watching as ogling and…" he continued the disdain in his voice clearly audible, "rearranging his crotch." Leaning forward she rested her head on his shoulder as she tried to avoid thinking about that. "What on earth happened?" he asked softly.
"You don't want to know," she sighed. "Is he still watching?"
"If you mean, feeling himself up and undressing you with his eyes – then yes."
"Kiss me," she said suddenly standing upright and looking straight at him.
"You… What!" the Slytherin said, turning so fast he must have cricked his neck.
"Kiss me," she hissed again. "Please," she added for good measure. He looked at her, kept looking at her until Minerva could feel herself blush, and then suddenly he had his arms wrapped around her, as natural as could be. He was placing gentle kisses on her neck and up her jaw, eventually reaching her lips.
Ron had been searching, casually he reminded himself, for his former transfiguration professor all night. Finishing his pint he ordered another as he searched the room for the vision in white.
"Hey there, brother dearest," one of the twins called out from behind him, almost making him choke. George, he though it was George anyway… leant down to look along his line of sight.
"Should have guessed…"
"… that you'd be drooling…"
"… over old…"
"… or rather young McGonagall."
"Shut up," he hissed, swatting at them both.
"Bet you're glad that you didn't know she looked like that when she was holding her in your arms and dancing the night away…" and with that he swatted at Ron's increasingly tight underpants, with his briefcase (they were both apparently dressed as business men). Ron hadn't thought of that, and now it was a bittersweet memory. The idea that she had in fact danced with him, held him as he had tentatively rested his hand on her slender waist, was doing nothing to relieve his discomfort and yet… he could only imagine the problems he would have encountered with just that issue had he known what she could look like at the time. He made a noise that he intended to be derogatory.
"She really is a bit of alright though isn't she…?" Fred began leaning in to whisper in Ron's ear.
"… not that you would have thought it…" George continued from the other side.
"…wouldn't mind getting some of that…"
"…not at all. That tight little…"
"Would you two be quiet!" he tried again, taking another deep drink from his glass. He could tell that the twins had had several drinks as well, after all they were both as gay as a Scout jamboree when sober, but none the less, they weren't doing anything to help alleviate his problem.
"Nice little handful on top…"
"… and just think of experience she has to draw on…"
"… either that or she's not had any in so long that she'll be desperate."
"Fred – George!" Their mother's voice broke through the general background noise. Ron dropped his pint glass to hang at waist level as she spotted them and bustled over. "Oh hello Ron – how are you dear?" she asked, before turning to the twins without waiting for an answer. "There's someone I want you to meet – I think his name is Richard Branson. He's a business man." And with that she whisked them off. Ron returned to his search only to discover that he couldn't see her anywhere so decided to head for the next best thing and ordered another drink.
After the next pint he switched on to the spirits and intended to stick with them. He really hated these functions, Harry was busy either with some dignitary or other, or with Ginny, Snape had disappeared so there was nobody to spy on and so time and time again his gaze wondered back to McGonagall. She'd slipped off his radar a few minutes previously and only just re-appeared; whatever it was that she had been up to there was a gentle flush to her cheeks now that only added to her beauty. With the abruptness that often comes with drunken ideas, it suddenly dawned on Ron that maybe rather than just watching he should actually go over and talk to his former professor, after all he was young and attractive and she had spent most of her evening on her own. As he wondered around the edge of the room his conviction that she would welcome his attention and that he might even have a chance at something more tonight only grew. Despite his best efforts however, these dreams were set back when Minerva pushed past him with some force. He stood facing the wall where she had been only moments before eventually snapping out of his semi-shocked state and turning around to watch her retreat. The soft sashaying of her hips only served to accentuate her curves and as he watched her his resolve began to firm its self. He knew what she was like – maybe she just wanted him to try a little harder. Picking up his drink he tried as surreptitiously as she was able to rearrange his lycra tights. Merlin but they were uncomfortable, the way they clung only serving to accentuate, the pulsing in his groin. He was just contemplating whether he should escape to the toilets in order to relive some of the pressure when his attention was caught by whom it was Minerva was talking to now. Snape, of all people, she was talking to Snape. And he was smiling. Then she rested her head on his shoulder… what was she doing? Of all the years he had seen the two Heads of House interact, even after the end of the final battle – he wasn't sure he'd seen them in quite the position they were in now, and yet it looked quite natural. And then…. all of a sudden, he was kissing her. Closing his eyes Ron downed his drink hoping that when he looked again, he would discover he had been mistaken. But it seemed he had not been… it was not a heated, fiery kiss like that he had longed to give his temptress all-night but gentle and reverent. His arms were wrapped around her, as they both seemed to melt into one another. He wanted to be disgusted, irritated and upset and he was, but at the same time he couldn't take his eyes off them. After a minute they drew apart for breath and Ron realised that he hadn't been breathing either. Their heads were bent in gentle conversation and he could only imagine what it was that they were saying… After all what could McGonagall possibly see in Snape of all people. Especially not in comparison to him, Ron, he was young and attractive and virile and you know – not a slimy, greasy spy. Oh – how could he have been so blind – well obviously she didn't see anything in him – he had her enchanted… had her under a spell of some sort…
Severus escaped into the garden having done his duty with the dignitaries, some of whom seemed genuinely pleased to meet him, others it obviously not able to get out of his presence fast enough. Some things would never change…
Just as he was descending the steps outside he spotted a familiar blonde head through the bushes.
"Draco?" he enquired as he neared his location.
"Professor!" The greeting was light and enthusiastic as the young man put out his cigarette. Severus scowled at the offending 'cancer-stick'. "Yes well… it's a far less dangerous habit than some I've skirted with over the years…"
"That doesn't make it alright," Severus pointed out lightly.
"This coming from a man who lives in a dungeon doesn't socialise and tests his own antidotes on himself."
"Do as I say…"
"…not as I do," the younger man inserted
"Besides I socialise with the people I deem worthy of conversation."
"You know what you need- to get well and truly shagged."
"Draco! You know what? You're obviously hanging around with the wrong crowd now…" he tailed off as his former pupil delicately arched an eyebrow.
"Yes well… ok – so that wasn't the best way to put it."
"You can say that again."
"You know – you at least used to respect me."
"Yes well – I've learned to question authority before accepting it." This time it was Severus turn to arch an eyebrow.
"How are you anyway? Have you and Miss Weasley turned the Ministry on its head yet?" he asked, knowing that the two of them were a formidable force for change when they worked together.
"We're getting there. But stop trying to change the subject, I am in a happy and stable relationship you on the other hand…"
"Where is Mr Longbottom?" Severus interrupted, politely. "I was expecting to see him tonight…" Draco scowled at him and wagged a finger at him.
"I see through you and your plots, by the by though, Neville has a rather nasty cold so is currently tucked up in bed, where I have every intention of joining him quite soon."
"Thank you for that totally unnecessary image Draco," Severus drawled and the blonde merely flicked his forked tail in response. The younger man's costume was rather self-explanatory, his red horns and animated tail paired with a black suit and round necked t-shirt that read in red gems, spawn of the devil spoke for themselves and said rather a lot about the lingering resentment that he felt for his father.
"Getting back to the point – don't you think McGonagall's brushed up alright?"
"That's Minerva – or Professor McGonagall to you," he corrected automatically. Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Well the least you could do is acknowledge that Minerva is looking ravishing tonight. I've always thought that she'd be your type…strong, independent, fiery."
"I have a great deal of respect for Minerva – she showed me far more compassion than I deserved when I turned traitor…" He trailed off. This time he received a much softer smile in return.
"She's not bad for a Gryffindor is she?" Draco said quietly, "She can't be all bad after all – my boyfriend worships the ground she walks on." They both headed back up the path towards the doors inside.
"Give Mr Longbottom my regards won't you," he said as they began climbing the steps. "And if he needs something to help him get well again…"
"Thank you – I really do appreciate it," Draco said, touching his arm as they paused on the threshold.
"Well he seems to keep you out of too much trouble…"
"You do know that I just want you to be happy don't you – you deserve that at least." And with another small smile his former student left him, presumably to head for the exit.
Before he had too long to dwell on their conversation he spotted Minerva making a hasty, if not unseemly, dash across the floor.
"Well, hello there Minerva – what can I do for you?" he asked as she turned to him slightly, vaguely amused at her slight look of panic.
"You can tell me if the youngest Mr Weasley's watching," she said, eyes darting back and forth. He spotted the young man quickly and was slightly put out by the unveiled lust in his eyes.
"I wouldn't say so much watching as ogling and rearranging his crotch," he added with a frown as the young man all but felt himself up. Minerva fell forward so that her head was resting on his shoulder "What on earth happened?" he asked quietly, as it became obvious that she was genuinely a little rattled by whatever it was that the youngest Weasley had done.
"You don't want to know," she sighed. "Is he still watching?"
"If you mean, feeling himself up and undressing you with his eyes – then yes." He answered, having glanced up at the obviously drunk youngster.
"Kiss me," she said, suddenly standing upright.
"You… What!" he asked spinning back around to look at her
"Kiss me. Please," she added. He looked at her, trying to discern if she really meant what she was saying, kept looking until he saw a blush colour her cheeks, and suddenly any reservations that his logical mind held vanished into thin air. His arms slid around her waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He leaned in and placed a gentle, tentative kiss on the soft skin of her neck and, when she leaned in, grew in confidence, working his way along her jaw and eventually reaching her lips. Those soft sweet lips that held so much promise, he could taste the hint of gilliwater on her lips reminding him that they'd probably both had too much to drink. Their kisses were soft and explorative and it was almost is if the world faded away to nothing around them as he held her close. Eventually they drew apart, and Severus found himself short of breath and rather unsure about what happened next. She smiled softly at him though, her lips swollen and her eyes sparkling she made an even more gorgeous picture than before, if that was possible.
"Thank you Severus," she whispered duskily, using her hand on the back of his neck to bring his forehead down to rest on hers.
"No… really… I'm sure that the pleasure was all mine," he replied, his usual eloquence seeming to have abandoned him. They slipped into a comfortable silence in each other's arms, Severus certainly feeling disinclined to move. After a few moments though, Minerva's shoulders began to shake a little and he pulled back a little to be able to see her face.
"I'm sorry…" she eventually managed between quiet giggles. "… but this whole situation is rather bizarre." Severus had to agree with her on that front. "Is he still watching?" she asked, having composed herself.
"Yes," Severus answered, looking over her shoulder. "And he looks less than pleased."
"Well tough on him," Minerva said resolutely. The band began playing a gentle waltz and his colleague arched a delicate eyebrow. "Care for a dance?" she asked, stepping away and offering him her hand. Taking it he proffered her a small bow, before following her onto the floor.
Severus had danced with Minerva before, knew that she was a joy as a partner, light on her feet and as graceful as her animgus form would suggest. They danced well together and once again the world began to fade away from him. All, that was, except for the one individual who seemed to be there in the background, constantly watching them. Instinctively he pulled Minerva closer as they spun: the feel of her within his embrace, barely millimetres away from him was setting his senses afire. He had always thought of his Gryffindor counterpart as a relatively attractive woman, and he cared for her far more deeply than he would have readily admitted to. His proximity now though was making something else more evident though. He shifted his hand that rested on her lower back, sliding it lower so that it rested on the shapely curve beneath the light fabric.
"Severus?" she asked quietly, leaning in. "What are you doing?"
"I do believe that I'm feeling your rather attractive bottom." And he gave it a gentle squeeze.
"I had noticed."
"I simply hypothesised that no-one would believe that there was anything more between us than friendship had I managed to dance with you and not feel the need to do that. After all it is by far the best specimen here tonight." He said trying to keep his tone light; her chest pressing against him as she whispered in his ear sent sparks of electricity along his nerves that seemed directly connected with his growing arousal.
"Why Severus – did I draw you away from a study of the available talent?" she asked, a small smile gracing her lips.
"Not at all – I was merely in character…" he ventured. They continued to dance and Severus' skin became more and more sensitive to her occasional touches; the feel of her supple elegant hand in his, the scent of her delicate perfume, all adding to the pooling of blood in his groin and all in all making him slightly uncomfortable. It wasn't until a less talented couple knocked him into her that it caused a greater problem however. They were pressed close, front to front by the time they had regained their balance and there was no way she could have missed the prominent bulge of his erection against her stomach.
"Oh," she gasped blushing to the greatest extent that he had seen that night.
"I… um…" Damn, he was only supposed to be helping her out of an awkward situation and now…
"I think I'll take that as a compliment…" she ventured quietly, as they took a small step back from each other. Severus was trying to control his own reactions, attempting to suppress a blush, if that was at all possible, and the strange desire to babble incoherently.
"Please do," he answered after a moment, never breaking eye contact with her. The moment was broken however as suddenly there was a strange kind of lull through which he heard a spell being cast:
"Finite Incantatem."
Severus would have perhaps acted more quickly had he felt that Ronald Weasley's spell was likely to have any unsavoury effects, Minerva, obviously realising that it would, however barely managed to get her wand into her hand before it struck her. In that strange fashion in which it always seems to happen at moments such as thus, every last noise appeared to stop and every eye seemed to turn to look at them as, right before his eyes, Minerva's dress became what appeared to be a bed sheet and promptly fell to the floor about her feet. This turn of events left Minerva McGonagall, deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and all round well-respected pillar of the community, standing in the middle of the crowded ballroom in some very delicate gold sandals and clothed in a set of matching red satin underwear. What made the sight all the more spectacular was that rather than shrinking with embarrassment Minerva simply pivoted to stare at Weasley, who was standing dumbfounded, his wand hanging limply by his side. Her hands on her hips, power radiating from every pore, any sign of her light intoxication entirely vanished, and Severus swore he had never seen a more erotic sight in all his life. They all stood silently for a moment, no one seeming to breathe let alone move, before all of a sudden everything seemed to happen at once. Security guards seemed to appear out of no-where, bundling the Boy Wonder off and out of the hall and the sound of the gossip mill suddenly going into overdrive flooded the room. Minerva stood for a moment seemingly without a care for all the eyes assessing her lithe form before transforming into her feline alter ego and sprinting through the crowd and towards the cloakroom. He stood for a further moment not certain what he ought to do, but finally reached down and picked up the sheet and as casually as he was able, followed her towards the exit.
"I thought you might like this?" he offered as he approached. She had retransformed and was apparently waiting for her cloak as a house elf appeared with it moments later.
"Thank you," she replied, sounding only mildly irritated now. With several careful swishes of her wand she had transformed the offending article into a much more conservative high necked and long-sleeved white cotton dress and pulled it over her head.
"I suppose this is what I get for leaving my costume till the last minute and making do with what's close at hand," she said with a smile, pulling her hair free from the back of her dress. "Oh… that's a point. My copy of Unfogging the Future and my standard lamp are still down there in the guise of…"
"Your spear and ancient looking tome?" He guessed.
"Yes, I don't really give two hoots about the book but the lamp was a favourite of mine…"
"Then say no more," he said feeling absurdly gallant. "You head back to the castle and I shall retrieve them for you and follow on shortly."
"Thank you. For some strange reason I have no great desire to face that crowd quite yet. Just bring them up when you return won't you?"
It didn't take him long to find her missing accessories, she had left them at one of the tables sequestered in the corners, and ignoring all the strange looks he was receiving from the assembled crowd he collected them and left the room his head held high. He apparated to outside the gates once more and set up the drive at a brisk pace. When he arrived at Minerva's door he knocked quietly and waited for her response.
"Come in," she called softly and he followed her request. He was mildly surprised to see Albus there but not entirely.
"Good evening Severus - I was just explaining to Minerva the apparent rationale behind the young Mr Weasley's actions."
"Yes – it would appear that Ronald was under the impression that I couldn't possibly see anything in you and therefore you must have had me under some kind of enchantment or other," Minerva said perfunctorily.
"Oh," was all he could think to respond. In all honesty he had to admit that the brat probably had a point.
"In any case Minerva, the Law Enforcement Agency are willing to let you decide whether to press charges or not but there's no reason to rush your decision." Albus continued. "I suspect that a night in the cells, the hangover he's bound to be faced with tomorrow and his mother's wrath will be enough punishment in the meantime." Minerva spared him a small smile for this. "And with that – I shall bid you both goodnight," he said, letting himself out and shutting the door quietly behind him.
"I believe these belong to you," Severus said after a moment proffering her back her belongings.
"Oh thank you," she replied, taking them and laying them on the coffee table.
"Well… Good night then… and sorry for… well… Good night," he said suddenly seeming to have lost the power of coherent speech again.
"No – thank you," she said softly before he turned to leave. His hand was on the handle before she spoke again. "And Severus – "
"Yes?" he asked, turning back to face her.
"If you don't have plans for tomorrow evening – perhaps we could have a game of chess, and something to eat? Without any of the Weasley's…"
A/N: This is one of my beta's favourites (despite the fact that it took her months to get back to me…lol)
Anyway, hope you enjoyed it.
Please let me know what you thought,
xLx