Title: Blue Suede Shoes
Author: writcraft
Characters/Pairings: Minerva McGonagall/Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank
Rating: R
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Drag Kings
Other Warnings: None
Word Count: ~1,700
Summary/Description: Minerva and Wilhelmina reminisce.
Author's Notes: Not a very smutty one at all this month so I did a little banner to make up for it. I hope you enjoy my take on the prompt. Thanks as always to A for the beta and to Elvis for the title and inspiration!





Minerva heard the music as soon as she entered the home she shared with Wilhelmina. They hadn’t had much luck with the more modern forms of Muggle electronics due to the magic they often used. Nevertheless, they had managed to coax an old gramophone into submission and it had lasted tolerably well over the years.

The familiar smell of tobacco filled the air and Minerva smiled when she heard Wilhelmina humming along to one of their favourite tunes. She suspected her former students probably imagined their Professor liked to listen to opera or romantic power ballads in the privacy of her own quarters. She sometimes wondered what they would think if they knew that Minerva could dance to much more than the stuffy chamber music favoured at the Hogwarts Yule Ball.

“I never imagined I would be the kind of woman to behave like a love-struck teenager over a Muggle man with a shiny guitar.” Minerva closed the door and stepped into the living room, to find Wil surrounded by photos which had curled up around the edges, grainy with the passing of time.

“Yet it turns out you are exactly that kind of woman.” Wil put down her pipe, reaching for Minerva. “Sit with me?”

“Always.” Minerva poured them both a drink, placing a cushion on the floor because her legs wouldn’t thank her for sitting directly on the rug for too long nowadays. She looked at the photographs spread out on the table and shook her head, fondly. “You almost made me lose my head with those songs of yours.”

“More than just your head.” Wil chuckled and kissed Minerva’s hand. “Where have you been?”

“Walking by the sea.” Minerva unbuttoned her cloak and dropped it down beside her, enjoying the gentle heat from the fire on her back. “You know how I get lost in my thoughts at times.”

“Very well indeed.” Wil slipped her arm around Minerva’s waist. “You must think me horribly indulgent.”

“Not in the slightest. I had quite forgotten we had all of these photographs.”

“From when we were young.” Wil grinned and passed one of the photos to Minerva. “I take it you remember those times, Min? Back when everything worked like clockwork and I could get away with dressing like that.”

“Enough of that, thank you. We’re young enough to enjoy ourselves still.” Minerva touched the picture and carefully traced the firm lines of Wil’s face. “You’re every bit as lovely now as you were then.”

“Poppycock.” Wil snorted and turned another photo over in her hands. “Besides, I wasn’t exactly going for lovely.”

“Handsome as ever, then.” Minerva laughed and pressed a soft kiss to Wil’s cheek. “Don’t pretend you don’t know precisely what I mean.”

“It’s funny how the simple fact of being young made me arrogant enough to believe I could rule the world, one day. When I turned into him for the night I began to believe I was a star.”

“You were.” Minerva thought back to those days, when Wil had played up a storm in Muggle venues where they could both lose themselves in another kind of magic for a while. “You still are. The first time I ever thought of music as something to be really appreciated was when I heard you sing. Muggle rock and roll, no less. You always liked to do things differently.”

“I suppose I did.” Wil stroked her hand through Minerva’s hair, the touch soothing. “And you were always by my side, supporting me.”

“Would you play again? Just for one night.”

“Hardly.” Wil snorted and dropped her hand. “I’m an old woman and I have no desire to look like a fool. I don’t imagine I would be nearly as handsome with my extra pounds and grey hair.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Minerva nodded to the guitar in the corner. “Put on the clothes and just give me one more song. Pick a less energetic number if you don’t want to leap about all over the place.”

“I don’t still keep my old costumes about the house.” Wil flushed and Minerva arched her eyebrow in disbelief.

She flicked her wand and caught the clothes in her hand when they came flying towards her. She eyed Wil and made a few quick and skilful changes to the sizing. “Change. Have a stiff brandy if it helps.”

“You’re going to ruin a perfectly good memory, you know.” With a sigh, Wil stood nevertheless while Minerva settled back to wait.

* * *

“There, now. I look utterly foolish.”

Minerva turned and the sight of Wilhelmina took her breath away.

The jacket which reminded Minerva of a long time ago now fit a little more snuggly around Wil’s belly, despite the resize. Instead of inky black hair piled into a cocky looking quiff, Wil’s hair had less volume and the colour was a bright silvery white. Her face was no longer smooth with the tautness of youth and her lips had thinned a little over the years.

To Minerva, Wil had never looked more beautiful. Every line on her face spoke of the years she and Minerva had shared together since that first rush of passion when Minerva had finally allowed herself to explore the kind of desires she had long harboured.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” Wilhelmina had placed a crumpled flyer into a young Minerva’s hand one day in the staffroom.

“I like secrets.” Minerva had taken the note gladly, and a rush of anticipation had overwhelmed her. Even then, sitting next to Wilhelmina had made her giddy and daft in a way she didn’t particularly like, but couldn’t deny for too much longer. When she had first seen Wil’s secret pastime, Minerva had been quite sure she wouldn’t be able to wait until after the encore to make her feelings abundantly clear.

“Not foolish in the slightest. Never foolish to me – quite to the contrary.” Minerva was horrified to hear her usual laugh lilt and turn into what could only be described as a giggle. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“I don’t believe it.” Wil began to look more confident and moved with a slight swagger to collect her guitar, before sitting next to Minerva, tucking one leg beneath the other and resting the guitar down, strumming a couple of chords. “Minerva McGonagall, you’ve turned into a teenager on me.”

“I’m hardly a teenager anymore.” Minerva smiled and stroked her fingers along Wil’s leg, remembering. “Play something?”

With a smile and a chuckle, Wilhelmina obliged.

* * *

“You’re marvellous.” Minerva clasped her hand to her chest when Wil placed the guitar down some time later. “I hope you’ll forgive my being so forward.” With a broad smile, Minerva reached for Wil and kissed her deeply. She could taste the faint and familiar tobacco on her lips, mingling with the strong flavour of brandy.

“I suppose I could just this once.” Wil laughed and kissed Minerva again, pressing her back onto the sofa. She slipped her hand under Minerva’s skirt and sighed with contentment as she sought out the place which years of practice had taught them would give Minerva most pleasure. While Wil’s deft fingers slipped and moved along her body, Minerva arched beneath her and unbuttoned her jacket, to run her hands over Wil’s shirt.

Everything was just as it had been. The spell Wil had used to bind her chest to fit the masculine style of jacket kept everything in place, and Minerva could feel the soft bulge through Wil’s trousers press against her thigh. It wasn’t rare for Wil to wear such things now, but she tended to do so more for her own comfort, and to accommodate the warm tweeds she had accumulated over the years when they took a walk to their local pub for fish and chips or a Sunday roast. It had been a good many years – save for the odd formal occasion here and there – since Wil had dressed in a way which reminded Minerva of the element of showmanship to the secret they had both shared.

“I think everything still looks very good.” Minerva sighed as Wil caressed her and she pushed back the jacket from Wil’s shoulders.

“You’re not usually one for such flattery. I’m wondering if your eyesight is still as sharp as ever.” Wil grinned at Minerva and slipped her hands to the waist of Minerva’s skirt to pull it down, plucking at the buttons on her shirt. “Let’s keep these old clothes of mine on for a while. I quite like the effect they seem to have on you and even though I’m not much of a dancer, I like to think I remember some of my moves.”

“More than some, I’ll warrant.” Minerva chuckled and helped Wil pull off the remainder of her clothes, letting out a groan as Wilhelmina's firm kisses trailed from Minerva's throat down to her stomach. “Definitely more than some.”

“Music?” Wil lifted up for a moment and reached for Minerva’s hand.

“Why not?” Minerva squeezed Wil’s hand in response and settled back down to lose herself in Wil’s touch, while the fire cast its warmth around the room and the gramophone hummed with memories.

~Fin~