Author's note: I forgot my disclaimer in chapter one, so here it is. Sadly, I do not own any of the Harry Potter stuff, it belongs to the godlike genius JK Rowling, whose keyboard I am not worthy to dust. I'm just using some of her characters for my own twisted, non-profitmaking amusement. Fanks x
It was difficult to surprise Severus Snape. For almost forty years, life had presented him with a riot of improbable, alarming and occasionally terrifying events and he had grown up expecting the unexpected, taking nothing and no one for granted. Nevertheless, he had been truly surprised on being propositioned by Shacklebolt after a tedious Order meeting. A pleasant surprise. Well, that was a first.
Of course he had observed the senior auror's excellent physique, his no-nonsense demeanour, his apparent disinterest in gossip and other frivolous pastimes so beloved by most, not to mention the warmth which flooded any room containing that subtle smile. An admirable man. But it did not do for one such as he to encourage these thoughts. Most romantic entanglements ended in embarrassment or heartbreak, Snape knew, but just one night, no strings attached, with a discrete and trustworthy wizard could be a welcome diversion. He had accepted almost immediately.
Shacklebolt's living room was a chic, masculine affair, all minimalist uncluttered surfaces and muted shades. Snape approved of the ensemble, except for the monstrous contemporary painting over the fireplace. His host saw him staring.
"Do you like it?" he asked mildly, handing him a glass of wine.
"No," Snape replied, sniffing, then sipping cautiously.
"Not an art lover, then."
"On the contrary, I am a great admirer of artistic talent." Kingsley chuckled at the barb.
"Ah."
"The wine, however, is superb. To what should we be drinking?"
Kingsley pondered for a moment.
"To pleasant distractions?"
"To pleasant distractions," echoed Snape. Two crystal glasses chimed together.
A few hours later, Snape started awake with Shacklebolt's sleeping head resting on his shoulder, the two wizards tangled around each other in a sticky sort of embrace.
"That's two in one day," murmured Snape to himself, allowing his heart to slow back down as he realised where he was, and with whom. His lover groaned softly.
"Two what?"
"I thought you were asleep," he remonstrated.
"I was," even in the semi-darkness, the gorgeous smile was apparent.
"Pleasant surprises. I live all my life without one, then two come along at once." Kingsley was no longer listening, lifting his head he planted slow kisses over Severus' chest, gently running his fingers down his sides, inciting a shudder and a curt,
"Stop that at once!"
"Mm-hm. Not ticklish I hope, Professor?" A gasp.
"Stop…ah!" Kingsley stopped.
"You want me to stop?" he whispered languidly in Snape's ear.
"No. Don't stop. Please."
Kingsley hadn't know what to expect from his night with Severus Snape. Perhaps rudimentary functional intercourse or mind-boggling depravity, or anything in between. As it turned out, he too received a pleasant surprise. Severus allowed Kingsley to lead the way, at first responding almost shyly to the auror's ministrations, then skilfully turning gentleness into desperate, clawing passion. Kingsley had to fight to keep the glow from showing on his face at work the next morning.
"What you looking so smug about, Shacks?" yelled Tonks, across the office. He schooled his face into a mask as a handful of people turned to stare at the man being described as "smug" just days after a horrific tragedy.
"I acted on a tip that Alastor gave me yesterday, that's all I can say." Apparently satisfied with this customary guarded response, everyone carried on with what they were doing. Moody's leer read approximately 9.7 on the lewd scale.
"So I was right then, lad?"
"Absolutely right. The situation is now much improved, thank you." Moody nodded.
"Good."
During the Summer holidays, Hogwarts was deliciously quiet. Professor Sprout popped back from her grown-up daughter's house every few days to check on her beloved plants. Professor McGonagall spent the first and last few weeks attending to Deputy Headmistress duties with a break in between visiting her sister in New Zealand. Hagrid, Snape and Dumbledore were in permanent residence, but often away running errands (or in Dumbledore's case, running the wizarding world). For several years, Snape had spent the first two weeks of August away from the castle, returning serene but exhausted, evading all questions about his whereabouts and occupation. This had stopped three years ago, and any enquiries regarding the change of habit had been met with outright hostility. The rest were absent for most of the Summer, occasionally coming to use the library or other odd little tasks. When any of the staff bumped into each other in the silent corridors of the castle there was usually tea, chatting, and possibly drinking on the terrace of the Three Broomsticks.
In this relaxed August atmosphere, Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the castle's front steps, enjoying a very jammy piece of toast in the morning sunshine. Snape strode round the corner and stopped dead on seeing him.
"Good morning, Severus. How are you?" he beamed.
"It's six a.m." snapped the other in annoyance. "What are you doing up so early?"
"It's six a.m." repeated the Headmaster, with a knowing wink "What are you doing back so late?"
Snape scowled all the way to his dungeons.
Cdkobasiuk: This is my first ever fic and you are my first ever reviewer! Thanks for taking the time big smoochy kiss . More graphic? Less graphic? What do you think? x
Ayasgrl: Thank you, I'm not sure where this is heading yet, I've got every idea from a soft little fluff-fest to horrific torturous Final Battles! Kingsley is a great to write because JKR hasn't developed him yet, still a bit of a mystery. I have such a thing for tall, dark mysterious men…
