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Coward	By : McGonagall Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/McGonagall Views: 4493 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series, and I wish that I made any money from this. I don't.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1

Minerva McGonagall had not meant to knock. Whereas she usually was very composed and known to be so as well, at times when she did in fact lose her temper, everyone knew not to try and make her see reason… or just be in her way to begin with – unless of course being on receiving end of her ire was what you intended. The Head of Gryffindor House was too enraged to dwell at all upon the door opening already as she reached the top of the winding staircase to the Headmaster's Tower.

Whether the castle itself had felt her nearness and possible lethalness – because Minerva certainly was not to be crossed in that state of mind in any way – and tried to reduce the possibilities of her getting more enraged or if the headmaster himself had felt the change in magic upon her ascending in her ire and had flicked his wand at the door upon her closeness, she couldn't rightly say – maybe she didn't actually care either.

Basically fuming, long strides had her crossing the circular office and right opposite the Slytherin Headmaster, only a desk in between them, within seconds. Hands came down upon the top of the desk in intimidating anger as she leaned over to him.

Breathing heavily, Minerva McGonagall futilely tried to gather her speech to say what she wanted to say… and had come to say. However, the fact that she wanted to say a great many of aspersions at the very same time wasn't helping her. The sound and swish of cold air announcing the door having fallen shut again escaped her notice. It seldom happened that anything at all did escape Minerva McGonagall's notice.

Emerald green eyes blazed as dark Slytherin depths met their gaze. An eyebrow quirked as no sound whatsoever came forth from the furious lioness. He wasn't truly intimidated, and Minerva hadn't anticipated any different. Whatever she might come to say, it most likely would not change anything either way… but who and what she was, what she had seen could not be left unspoken of whether futile or not.

Minerva McGonagall's gaze flashed toward the frame of her best companion, who seemed to be sleeping… or at least tried make her believe such. Her very last promise to him was one of the reasons why she had come there: to do her best to keep the school and its pupils safe, for without her all hope for either would be non-existent.

It would have been particularly naïve or even stupid not to have seen the changes ahead, but she never actually could have imagined the level of destruction that had been created so soon, so easily… It all seemed strangely familiar to when Voldemort had last been powerful, and at the same time the despair of then seemed nearly comically insignificant to the straight panic in which most were right now.

"I can't believe it, that you are actually letting this all happen! I'd have thought… that you of all would know better then – you, the boy who came to school bruised and beaten black and blue after every single holiday… A logical connection wasn't very hard to make. He trusted you! … I trusted you!"

If Severus Snape was shocked, he didn't show it. In fact, he hardly did show any emotion whatsoever – let alone changes in them.

"You're no better than him!"

At that, most of those who had acted to be asleep in their frames seemed suspiciously awake all of a sudden. They were all thoughtful enough not to raise their voices in any way. They wanted to hear it.

Seeing that it did not seem like Snape would allow her any reaction, Minerva McGonagall turned on her heel and reached for the old doorknob, coming to a halt. Looking over her shoulder, one last matter just needed to be said. "How dare you sit in Albus' chair with such air of untouchability? How dare you sleep in his bed without guilt?"

Severus stood, but it did not stop her from continuing.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you bedded your fellow Death Eaters in it without any shame either. I'm sure that Alecto never leaves you unsatisfied."

From the corner of her eyes Minerva saw him cross to the other side of the desk and stalking to where she stood. If eliciting a response from him was her main goal, she certainly was succeeding.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Snape's velvety voice sounded right beside her ear. She felt his hands move over hers, restraining the one to the doorknob and pinning the other to the stone cold gray wall beside the door.

Shifting his weight slowly forward, Minerva McGonagall could feel her bosom uncomfortably crushed against the closed door, her cheek tingling as it grazed across the roughness of the wall as minuscule measures of blood welled up on the surface of the skin that had been smooth despite age prior to her last statement.

"If you must in fact know – not that it is any of your business – I've not bedded anyone since I've joined the Dark Lord, despite the many willing to. I'm not interested in whores who sit on their knees before me just waiting for my cock to slide into their waiting hot mouths. I rather have a challenge."

"You're disgusting. You're just as obsessed by might as he, despite your role as a member of the Order. Your true nature has shown. I regret not having seen it earlier."

His voice lowered another notch, and she felt his breath against the shell of her ear as he replied, "If only you knew just how mistaken you are. We're truly not so different at all." The meaning of that, Minerva would only realize later. Fear was the last that coursed through her veins as his hands left hers and moved to her hips, clutching at her painfully as he pressed himself into her harder... and she felt his hardness against her left lower back. Her hands remained where he had left them, and she stayed entirely motionless – even as she felt his hands move down further and the heavy fabric of her skirts being dragged upward. Cool air hit the backs of the elder witch's milky thighs once her skirts were bunched up high enough to his liking. She still did not move – not even as she felt his hand pass over her hipbone and between her slightly spread legs... and then she felt her cotton knickers being dragged aside.

A single digit slipped in further and languidly stroked between her tingly nether lips to and fro a few times... then stilled. A pause of a heartbeat then and he entered his former Transfiguration Professor, a single hard thrust upward seating him fully inside her... his impressive length and weight buried to the hilt into her wet heat. His right hand reached to cover her hand on the doorknob once again, gripping it very tightly as his other trailed upward over her left side and breast to curl around her shoulder for leverage. She could feel herself throb around him before he finally began to move within her, fulfilment and abandonment soon balancing as he thrust... heavily.

The skin on her neck tingled as she felt his semi-hot breath being expelled against it every time his hardness disappeared into her only to be retracted and then disappear again. As he moved faster within the elder witch's sheath, his breaths began to come faster and more ragged, and soon he began to groan with every thrust as well... every time her tight wet walls surrounded him and took him in fully.

She herself bit down on her lower lip, feeling overwhelming her easily. A gasp left her lips as he gripped Minerva's hand and shoulder possibly even tighter and... fucked her, the angle of his thrusts altering slightly for both their benefit.

Her orgasm took her entirely by surprise. Minerva McGonagall had not been intimate with anyone in quite a while, and she internally pondered over whether the fact that she had barely felt the precursory sensations of her orgasm arriving maybe could be attributed to that or not. A slightly louder groan to end the breathy series that had sounded in her ear seconds or minutes prior – the aspect of time totally escaped her in the moment – barely reached her ears, and she barely felt the white hot ropes being released into her.

He collapsed against her as she in turn collapsed half against the door half against the wall. As he let go of his tight hold on her hand and shoulder and moved from her personal space, he slipped from her weeping core. Minerva momentarily looked down upon the hand still tightly curled around the doorknob – the knuckles had turned white from the strength of her grip... maybe his, too.

Her other hand slid down from the wall; the dints in the skin of her palm would remain as evidence from the roughness of the stone until hours later. She did not turn as a rustle of fabric could be heard – most likely Severus getting... decent again.

She did the same, her left hand shakily pushing down her skirts again and smoothing away the most obvious ripples so as not to make any questions rise – even if she did come across another soul while returning to her rooms. Within seconds and without even a word of either of them, she turned the doorknob and left, feeling a measure of his semen run down the inside of her leg... the stickiness of them both between her thighs as they brushed against each other while she walked, the faint ache just there reminding Minerva of the time that had gone by since the last time that a man had taken her like that.

Upon returning to her rooms, she did not move straight to the bathroom to get showered. No, she sank into her couch and let her mind reel... for from that occasion, Minerva had begun to doubt. While alive, Albus had always vouched for the new Headmaster's loyalty upon the least of doubt... and no one ever had understood why or how.

Albus' death and its circumstances had of course changed everything, yet...

Despite the way in which Severus had taken his former Transfiguration Professor against the wall and door and in which he had spilled himself deep into her, it had not been rough – not as a true hearted Death Eater would have. She had slowly begun to suspect him of having a heart after all – close to a Gryffindor's in the end it would even seem – of maybe being braver than she ever could have imagined.

She only discovered the truth much later, but to her a coward he would always be even if only for hiding the best of him.
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Coward