Hello Everyone,

The post is slightly late by my time-zone (apologies!), but hopefully not by yours...

I hope you enjoy :-)

Title: Dinner and a Show
Author: purplefluffycat
Characters/Pairings: Minerva-centric, Albus/Severus, Albus/Severus/Minerva (with a mention of Scrimgeour/Shacklebolt)
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Edible aphrodisiacs
Other Warnings: Fantasy, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Threesome
Word Count: about 3800
Summary/Description: Minerva is a slash-girl. Albus and Severus decide to give her the best birthday present, ever...

Author's Notes: Stands alone, but I did imagine this story would naturally follow Surveillance, in which Albus and Severus get together, with a little help from Minerva.





Minerva McGonagall may have settled into spinsterhood long before her years were due, but she did enjoy a rich and varied fantasy life. Her quarters were warm and private - just as she liked them - and Minerva found that many a happy evening could be passed with a crackling fire, a tot of scotch, and the exotic, erotic array of images that paraded through her excitable Gryffindor mind. Oh, how they made her shiver.

Wizards, naturally, were her fare - separately and together. And Merlin, how she enjoyed the thoughts of wizards together! - The crush of masculine lips, the brush of muscle on muscle, and two beautiful, straining, leaking cocks desperate for release and they frotted and rubbed and moaned... Oh yes, Minerva had imagined it all, and more. Far, far more.

She was particular in her taste, however; a wizard would have to possess certain attributes to play a starring role in Minerva's sweet tales. She did not like the unformed, pretty ones; the ones with unblemished complexions and fluffy minds. They were too easy, too common.

No, Minerva's tastes ran to the complex, the prickly and - above all - the powerful. She could not fantasize about a wizard she could not respect, and the more she felt in awe to a man, the more potent it became; the layers of reserve and professionalism sensuously peeled away as arousal bloomed, the force of magic crackling about their naked bodies as they bucked and came... How wonderful it would be, she thought, to see two mighty men thoroughly unravel one another.

Minerva kept such notions entirely to herself, of course, but occasionally - very occasionally - they came true. She could still remember the feeling of delight and urgency that had accosted her upon hearing that the besnaggled Chief Auror, Rufus Scrimgeour, had taken up with Shaklebolt - a young stallion and the most talented duellist of his generation. Her thoughts that evening had been aflame with splashes of tawny hair against moist dark skin, militaristic tones softening into pleasured moans and gasps, veins that throbbed with the joint vigours of youth and talent; and her hands that night had held not their accustomed dram, but an item of ideal contour and motion purchased from a discreet purveyor in the backstreets of Hogsmeade. It had been marvellous.

More recently - after they had deposited the celebrated babe and could begin to hope that horrors were in the past - Minerva had found her happiest source of excitement yet. The Headmaster - the terrifying, thrilling, warm-hearted Headmaster - had taken Severus Snape as his lover.

Severus had been a member of staff for just over a year when it happened. She knew not the details of the intimacies that had brought them together - closetted and serious and traumatic - but it had been clear to see when the relationship had tipped from one of serious confidences to something altogether steamier: Albus had a spring in his step that she had not seen since her own days under his tutelage. Severus no longer wore the lost, haunted look that had been his constant mien in that first troublesome year, and instead ceded to Albus' teasing with equanimity, even reaching out to score seductive nails across gnarled, clever fingers beneath the Great Hall's table when he thought no-one could see.

Needless to say, Minerva's fantasies found themselves extremely well fuelled...

...and if those two striking wizards had a habit of embracing in semi-public places... and Minerva so happened to have been passing by on several such occasions... and some circumstance or other had prevented her from drawing her gaze away from their panting, half-unclad forms, pleasuring each other so... while hiding behind the masonry... then what of it?

It was almost as if they were doing it on purpose.



*****


Minerva was woken by the delicate scrape of talons against her cheek. Drowsily, she pushed her eyelids open to reveal a blur of red and two yellow orbs peering at her from close range; beak to beak.

"Oh Fawkes, it's you."

The phoenix cawed in reply, then helpfully retrieved Minerva's spectacles from the nightstand, offering the lenses to her nose.

The world once more in near-proper focus, Minerva noticed both the leisurely time of day she seemed to have slept until, and the roll of parchment that Fawkes was unsubtly brandishing toward her, dangling from his left leg. She took it and read.

Dear Minerva,

Wishing you the very happiest of birthdays!

Perhaps you would like to join Severus and me in my quarters this evening for dinner and a show: opera glasses not required...


Yours fondly,

Albus

Fawkes spoke again when she put the parchment down upon the bedspread, loud and boisterous. "CAW CAW!"

"Look, I'm not even up, you pestilent beastie; I don't have any treats for you."

A pitiful cry: "Cwwwaaaaa...?" If phoenixes had eyelashes, he would have fluttered them.

"Oh... there might be some shortbread on the coffee table. Now off with you!"

Immediately brightening, Fawkes gave her a quick nuzzle to show his gratitude, them flew at full-pelt into the adjoining room in search of crumbs. Man and bird were irrepressible, both, thought Minerva - somewhat darkly, given that it was Saturday and she was yet to have a cup of Earl Grey. Her birthday was not an event that Minerva typically liked to publicize, but Albus did have a knack of remembering its annual ebb and flow, even when she protested that no recognition was needed. Very sweet of him, she supposed.

As the day wore on and her morning grogginess dissipated, however, Minerva couldn't help wonder at the exact wording of that note. The invitation was from both of them. - Completely fair enough, of course - yet Minerva's senses were slightly pricked; it was the first time she could recall that Albus and Severus had actually alluded to being... well, whatever they were to one another.

She was taking a walk by the lake in the retreating October sunshine (nice and peaceful; most of the students away in Hogsmeade), and the thought of Albus and Severus abruptly stopped her tracks and hastened her breaths. Minerva did not usually indulge in such notions during daylight hours, but - she was alone, and it was her birthday...

Merlin, and they had looked so very beautiful together - that last time, from behind the seventh-floor tapestry of Fergus the Fecund, the moth-holes providing perfect spots through wish to see: Albus pressed against the stone wall as Severus kissed him greedily, embroidered robes pushed aside as potion-stained fingers sought and found... Severus' pale throat exposed to the chill air as he was pleasured in return, his gasps soft and breathy as his reserve crumbled and release claimed its prize...

Reluctantly, Minerva dragged herself back to her present surroundings. The sun was getting low in the sky; most of the staff would be soon returning from their chaperoning duties - it was approaching time for dinner.

- And what exactly did Albus mean by that note? A tantalizing thought wafted through her mind, but it was altogether too delicious; too fanciful; the product of a very large slice of wishful thinking.

Minerva shook her head abruptly to install some sense into it. Surely not.



*****


At eight o' clock sharp, Minerva rapped on the door to Albus' private rooms, and was greeted by a cheery, "come in!" from beyond the oak.

"Happy Birthday, my dear lady!" called Albus, as she entered, and Severus raised his glass in her direction.

"Thank you both very much," replied Minerva, accepting a goblet of elf-made wine, "But really, you needn't have-"

"Nonsense!" smiled Albus, "It's our pleasure."

The two wizards then exchanged a glance; it was swift and subtle, and most witches would probably have missed it. Minerva was particularly attuned to such things, though, and from the cock of a dark eyebrow, the purse of a moustached lip, it seemed as if it really was their pleasure that they had in mind; she couldn't help dual tingles of suspicion and excitement crawl along her spine at the sight.

Dinner proved to be a magnificent affair. A wave of Severus' wand revealed a grand feast laid upon the claw-footed central table, featuring delicacies that she judged well beyond the Anglocentric cuisine of the Hogwarts elves. "A number of dishes of my own devising," said Severus, by way of explanation - and then he quickly snatched what looked like an empty potion vial from one of the largest platters. Without remarking on the latter, he continued, "Please, help yourselves."

Albus dug in without reserve, so Minerva reasoned it must be safe to do the same. The empty vial had probably just become muddled up with the dishes, she told herself; nothing to be concerned about, and besides, it would be impolite to mention it. She transferred what looked like dressed lobster to her plate and remarked, "I didn't know that you were an accomplished chef, Severus."

He smirked a little. "When the occasion calls for it. Do try some sauce with the seafood; it contains a particularly special secret ingredient."

The silver boat did indeed bear temptingly creamy contents, but Minerva felt unsure. "I'm not certain whether-"

"Poppycock, dear girl!" chimed-in Albus, "I'll serve us both." He did so, liberally, and Minerva objected no further - even when the sauce seemed to sparkle a little in the candlelight as it was poured. Her sensible side would have maintained that such acquiescence was purely down to the need for good manners, but Minerva's daredevil streak could not be so easily fooled. Whatever game they're playing, it whispered, you can play just as well. The simmering frisson in her belly coiled a little tighter and she drank deeply from the goblet, for good measure.

Food, drink and conversation all flowed freely throughout dinner; Severus' 'cooking' proved to be delicious, and the three of them found plenty of common and amusing ground on which to talk. Albus had always been a charmer, of course - but Minerva was struck how the once surly young man at his side had blossomed since he had found his way into the Headmaster's bed. Severus remained his recognizably waspish self, but there was more humour than heat behind his biting comments, now, and a calm of self-assurance that Minerva was delighted to note. Their loving must be satisfying indeed.

Minerva felt a little guilty as she caught herself with such thoughts, but the two men before her seemed for all the world intent on encouraging them! Their gazes lingered upon one another at every opportunity - eyes hot, a tongue moistening lips - and their hands circled the cutlery and glassware in a dance of stolen caresses. When Severus rose to serve dessert and draped his arms about Albus' shoulders - louche and inviting - Minerva really had to pinch herself; when Albus then pulled his young lover downward into a deep kiss she bit her first to prevent the squeak in her throat from gaining voice.

“I think we might save dessert for later, don't you, my dear?” Albus stage-whispered into Severus' ear, and he was answered by a series of kisses mouthed to his neck and quick fingers slipping beneath his outer robe.

Minerva was so entranced by the sight she forgot to feel awkward. Indeed, when they kissed once more – passionate, possessive and long-lasting - she could do nothing but openly stare and feel herself heat and moisten, heart beating twenty-to-the-dozen.

“Would madam care for a drink?”

“Ah! What?” She jumped, startled from such hazed loveliness as Albus' attention seemed to once more be upon her.

"Well, we did promise you, 'dinner and a show,' didn't we? Do feel free to sit and have a scotch; this cabaret comes with a full bar service, you know." Albus conjured a plush armchair with a lazy wave of his wand, and made a florid gesture to the drinks cabinet at the side of the room.

As the full, fantastical implications of their offer filtered through Minerva's brain, she found herself rooted to the spot. Oh Merlin. Were they seriously suggesting that she'd be allowed to watch? It was like all of her Christmasses and Birthdays coming at once!

Indeed, the prospect was so very exciting, Minerva found herself momentarily incapable of forming a coherent reply; this caused Albus so look slightly worried: "Of course, if we've misjudged, that would be very embarrassing for us and you should definitely take your leave whenever-"

"-No!" Minerva blushed in the pause that followed. Such enthusiasm was probably indecorous, but there was no chance she was about to allow such an an opportunity slip through her fingers due to simple cowardice. "I mean... thank you..."

Minerva trailed off as Albus smirked at her, chivalrously pouring a drink.

"Now if you two have quite finished talking?" The question came from Severus, and following the delightfully acerbic voice with her eyes caused Minerva to nearly spill her dram; he had transfigured Albus' sofa into a very large bed and was draped languorously across it, clad only in a whisper of sheet across his thighs.

Albus practically sprang across the room, all smiles and hunger, and fell upon Severus with relish - hands upon pale smoothness, lips around his already-erect member. Severus hissed at that contact, arching backward upon the bed with eyes closed, and Minerva marvelled at the way sharp ribs and wiry muscles glided beneath his skin and his cock flushed large and red, gliding in and out of Albus' practiced mouth.

It was not long before Severus pulled at Albus' robes and they were both naked; Minerva noted that the Headmaster's smugness was once again justified – he had the body of a man only half his age, and the soft evidence of however-many-thousand sherbet lemons only enhanced that impression of youth. Albus was healthy, and glowing, and by gods he was attractive. Minerva put her drink down on a nearby table - any hope of holding it steady was evaporating by the second - and she shifted in her chair as the throbbing between her legs intensified and the men before her touched and kissed with ever-increasing fire.

Severus produced a bottle of oil, and all of a sudden they were upon each other, slick and skin-to-skin, cocks aligned and eager. Albus settled between Severus' spread legs and they bucked and rubbed and moaned and thrust - and then all of sudden they turned as one and locked Minerva's gaze: "Care to join us?"

Once again, Minerva found herself dumbstruck. Join them? The concept seemed alien, almost absurd. And yet...

This had been firmly a spectator sport, as far as she was concerned. She did not do such things with anybody; had safely retreated from the world of intimacy and rejection years and years ago and had no intention of retreading that dangerous path. Partaking was clearly out of the question... but the sight of those two gorgeous naked wizards, lips plump and swollen from kisses, beckoning her with their eyes and words; it was as alluring as it was daunting and Minerva found herself painfully torn.

Then, with a realization that felt an awful lot like sweet relief, Minerva remembered that whatever she had been fed for dinner would clearly be affecting her senses; the decision was likely out of her hands Whatever game they're playing, you can play just as well, the voice had said. Well, she had supped, had she not? So here she was, breathlessly powerless but to play...

Minerva could not find her tongue, but she did manage to nod; the movement was slight but the meaning was clear. In a flurry of movement she was helped to her feet, and two pairs of hands were upon her – stroking, caressing, exciting. Albus was softly kissing her on the mouth and she couldn't help but respond to his gentle, insistent pressure; Severus had unclasped her outer robe and his hands were slowly travelling beneath her skirts, over her thighs, upward, making her knees quiver and her breaths ragged.

She was not entirely sure how she came to be unclad upon the bed, but the electric fire that danced across her skin was more than adequate compensation for the loss of recall and the damage to her bun. They both touched her; alternately light and teasing in a way that made Minerva arch upward and mewl in frustration, then firm and hungry for her flesh. Albus toyed with a nipple with his tongue, stroking her belly and making her diaphragm dance with stuttered gasps. Severus sucked at her toes and pressed kisses on the inside of her thighs. They both offered their delicious bodies to her roving, excitable hands.

Minerva felt both utterly overcome and greedy for more – as if great flood gates had been opened across her skin and within her heart; waves and waves of sensation lapping and rolling where there had forever been none, and she wanted nothing but to drown in that vast ocean of delight. Her eyes had long since closed and her voice was sounding cries in a language spoken only by lovers. -And then, just when Minerva felt she could stand no more pleasure from their touches, Severus opened her like a butterfly and set his tongue to work, lapping and stroking her very centre until she was taut and shuddering.

There was not to be respite, however. Severus withdrew just as she was on the cusp of climax, then asked permission with a quirk of the lips and eyebrow.

“For Merlin's sake, you damn whelp!” cried Minerva in frustration, and locked her ankles around Severus' waist to make her acquiescence more than clear. He entered her with one smooth stroke, and Minerva gasped and clenched at the sweet ache of it. Then, seconds later, Albus settled behind Severus' spread thighs and sank deeply into him, locking eyes with Minerva over the young man's shoulder as he did so and sending yet more heat to her loins.

From that point onward, their coupling was a confusion of pounding and grabbing and panting and kissing; all a blur of the brightest colours and the most primal sounds. Minerva felt each of Albus' powerful thrusts through Severus' lithe young body, and she reached out for both of them with her limbs, seeking heat and connection and life at every turn.

When it came, her orgasm racked each and every cell of her body; so intense it was almost pain, and more powerful than anything she could even conceive of having previously felt. Minerva's eyes were clouded as she rode the aftermath of her convulsions, but she was aware of Albus' beautiful expression of intensity as release claimed him, and Severus' concentrated passion as he, too, followed them. Somewhere in the back of her mind was a celebration of epic proportions... but for that moment, all she could do was try not to slip unconscious.

They collapsed together, limp and sated and spinning. After what may have been a near-infinite period, someone had the good sense to cast some cleaning charms and conjure some feather pillows and soft sheets. With one wizard from her most private dreams on each side of her happy, sated form, Minerva rested.

Some while later, she was woken by a stroke to her brow, two hot bodies and a pair of self-satisfied smiles. Minerva gathered her wits; she was not to be outsmarted by a pair of laddies, no matter how talented they had proven themselves to be.

"So what exactly did you drug me with, Severus?” she asked, trying to seem strict even though it probably just came out sounding sleepy, “I know that there was an aphrodisiac in that lobster sauce; you two were hardly subtle about it."

The wizards exchanged a smug glance. "How charming that you thought so," grinned Albus.

"What?"

"I mean, our scheme must have been rather superior. Do you not think, my dear boy?" Albus placed a kiss on Severus' lips, which he accepted imperiously.

"It seems to have reached a satisfactory conclusion."

Minerva assembled their words. So there was no potion; it was all a ruse... "You mean to say..." Without convenient excuse she suddenly felt very naked indeed. A bubble of panic began to rise in her chest. What had she done?

"Quite right, Minnie!” chimed Albus, “No brews, no charms, no illusions. We did that all by ourselves. Good, aren't we?" Albus wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Minerva couldn't help but laugh, despite the turmoil that was threatening to overcome her. "We wouldn't want you without your admirable wits.”

“Indeed,” added Severus smoothly. “Happy Birthday, Madam."

“But...” She could not articulate all that she was thinking; a simple question would have to suffice. “But why?”

“Ah,” Albus nodded sagely, “We thought it might be high time someone stopped just looking and started living.”

He allowed a second for that to sink in. It did - of course it did - but Minerva was still not sure quite where she stood – all that had merely been for her own benefit?

As if reading her thoughts, Severus spoke once more. “Perfectly selfless, of course,” he added, with highly ironic inflection.

Albus followed that lead, assuming an expression of mock innocence. “- Not for a second that we thought a combined tumble with Hogwarts sexiest schoolmarm might be of interest.”

“-About whom we had respectively entertained fantasies of pert pupil and titillating teacher-”

“-and had discussed”

“-at length”

“-and repeatedly.”

Minerva found herself suddenly very wide-eyed. They had... and she was... and they thought...

...Well, golly, golly gosh!

She found that she had no choice but to smile; not when in a sudden transformation, threads of happiness seemed to be pulling at her very heart and all that had previously seemed impossible was now a wide open world, ready to be explored.

“Well then, thank you gentlemen,” Minerva said, full of bounce and vigour, “for the finest Birthday present I have yet received.”


*****

Minerva McGonagall may have settled into spinsterhood long before her years were due, but she did enjoy a rich and varied fantasy life. Her quarters were warm and private - just as she liked them - and Minerva found that many a happy evening could be passed with a crackling fire, a tot of scotch, and the exotic, erotic array of images that paraded directly in front of her nose....

...Albus splayed on the hearth rug as Severus made slow, sweet love to him; Severus' toes curling in Albus' hair as they sucked one another, side to side and frantic... and sometimes, when she felt like it, those same exquisite ministrations applied to her own body, and those same handsome wizards crying out beneath her own dancing hands.

Oh, how they made her shiver.