"Foibles, Fancies & Feasibilities" for "Lavinia Larkspur" Title: Foibles, Fancies & Feasibilities Author/Artist: Agatha Agapanthus (psyfic) Recipient: Lavinia Larkspur (bethbethbeth) Character(s)/Pairing(s): McGonagall/Pomfrey, Snape/McGonagall/Pomfrey Rating: R Word count: 7,700 Warnings: None Kinks: h/c, fingering, voyeurism, first-time, oral Summary: Snape fumbles in trying to regain Madam Pomfrey's friendship, but their misunderstanding might lead Poppy... and Severus... to something far more than either imagined.
* * *
It was the way her eyes shifted and the slight tinge of pink in her cheeks that alerted him to the possibility. Of course, barely able to move as his blood-deprived body and poison-damaged tissue slowly healed, all Snape could do was observe. At first, he hadn't even been able to speak.
The sound of the squeaking chalk made Poppy Pomfrey turn toward the standing slateboard by his bedside. The new Headmistress had summoned it when his condition was first assessed. She had placed it by his warded and screened-off bedside in the Infirmary. Then Minerva had gently placed his hand atop his wand and suggested he use the same non-verbal magic all the teachers used to put lessons on the board to spell out what he wanted to ask or say. Severus was grateful for that much and had been using the method for some days already and this was his first attempt at what he had thought would be a wry observation.
SO HOW LONG HAVE YOU FANCIED MINERVA?
He had expected Poppy to chide him with disparaging fondness or even laugh and tell him to M.Y.O.B. Above all, he was hoping to return them to the prior camaraderie they'd once shared. Poppy was one of the few who hadn't entirely turned from him the last year and if he were able to speak, she might have known by his tone he was being a prat, but a kindly intentioned one.
Instead, Poppy's expression grew stricken as her pink cheeks grew white and she fled before she could quite finish his sponge bath.
Not having meant to upset her and not wishing to answer potentially awkward questions, he quickly concentrated and wiped the board clean. He also levitated the towel back over his privates to preserve what little dignity he had left.
None too soon, it seemed, as the Headmistress suddenly popped her head around the sight screens and glanced about.
"What the devil just happened? Poppy ran out of here like a troll was after her."
Snape considered what had happened and finally opted for confusion.
I DON'T KNOW. I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION SHE HAD FORGOTTEN SOMETHING OF EXTREME URGENCY.
Minerva considered this and sighed. She noted the wash basin and his discomfiture and asked, "Your bath done, I take it?"
YES.
It was true. The only thing she had yet to wash were his privates and he had no desire for Minerva to do that. It was bad enough she was seeing him wearing little but a draped towel.
"Well, then." She waved her wand and he felt a drying charm followed by the odd sensation of the towel suddenly squirming and growing smoother as it shifted onto his immobile limbs. Soon he was wearing a clean nightshirt and she tucked the bedsheets over him and patted his hand. "There you go."
THANK YOU.
"Think nothing of it," she responded, heading back out and leaving him alone and grateful to be decently covered once more.
The solitude made him reconsider his exchange with Poppy. Why would she get upset at being asked about her interest in Minerva?
With witches and wizards living such long lives, with transfiguration spells, potions, charms and even hexes that could change an individual's gender and appearance, there was little in the way of prudery when it came to things sexual in the wizarding world. Being circumspect amongst the children was one thing and necessarily so, but amongst the staff? The first greeting he had received on being hired as a professor and introduced to the staff had been from Xiomara Hooch, who had looked him up and down and expressed disappointment that yet another person would be stealing birds away.
"Or do you prefer the call of the early morning cock?" She had enquired frankly and, he noted, not a little hopefully. Thankfully, Dumbledore had shooed her gently off and his flustered younger self had been able to gather his dignity about him like his new voluminous robes and begun his reputation for being the taciturn sort.
Still he observed, occasionally indulged in a bit of repartee and after eighteen years, Severus knew no one, likely not even Minerva herself, would have been upset at such an enquiry.
Moreover, he had meant to convey the observation in the manner he had long used with Poppy, a sort of teasing fondness tinged with respect. He had thought Poppy, of all people on the staff, would be able to forgive the last year he had spent as unwilling and despised Headmaster. Perhaps, he conceded, he had been wrong.
Snape silently cursed his current inability to speak and the acerbic personality that others well-remembered. The one was frustrating and the other, while helping maintain his cover as spy and double-agent for so long, also made people assume the worst of him. He had hoped to break free of this, at least a little, now that he was no longer bound to any master.
Instead, it seemed he might have hurt someone he valued as a colleague and had hoped would come to trust him again, if not see him as a friend.
* * *
He did not see Poppy for a few days, having to suffer the indignity of being fed and having his toileting needs seen to by her assistants, both students he had taught at some point in his career. They were perfectly expressionless and circumspect, but their silence and perfunctory care spoke more loudly than if they had spit in his face. He was dreading having one of them, or worse, one of the staff who pitched in from time to time to help in the Infirmary, bathe him.
To his relief, it was Poppy's face that peeped behind the sight screen on bath day. She flushed slightly, but bustled in with her usual energy, holding a basin with towels and a flannel in it, clearly prepping for his bath.
"I see you're still lazing about here," she began in what was very near her usual teasing manner.
POPPY. I APOLOGISE FOR WHAT I ASKED. IT IS NONE OF MY BUSINESS. PLEASE KNOW I DID NOT INTEND TO CAUSE YOU DISTRESS.
She stood staring at the slateboard for some time and he noted when she swallowed and looked away, ostensibly turning to use her wand and fill the basin with warm sudsy water, but he also saw her surreptitiously wipe her eyes.
TRULY.
She ignored the board and stepped up, using her wand to pull down his bedsheets and efficiently stripped him of his night shirt. Then she draped a towel over his privates and took up a flannel, dipped and wrung it out and bent to begin washing his face.
He watched her, wishing she would say something, hoping she'd forgive him for whatever it was that had caused her such distress.
She rinsed out the flannel, wrung it out and lifted one of his arms, washing it efficiently and silently.
I WISH YOU WOULD TALK TO ME. CURSE ME EVEN.
She resolutely ignored the board, although they both could hear the sound of a chalk scraping its surface as the words appeared.
He sighed and gave up, staring at the ceiling and hoping his throat would finish healing so that he could speak and his body would finish detoxifying so that he would be able to move again.
* * *
Minerva was having tea by his bedside when he uttered his first purposeful sounds since passing out from his injuries.
She had been telling him of the nightmarish situation at the Ministry, a tale courtesy of the interim Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, when Severus snorted in response.
They both froze. It was the first time since the battle that any sort of vocalisation had emerged from him.
He tentatively cleared his throat, and then did so more forcefully when there was little pain.
"Headmistress," he managed to say in a hoarse whisper.
She beamed, then made a girlish sound rather like a squeal before taking his arm in her hands, squeezing it and patting him with delight. "Oh, well done!"
After a moment, Poppy stepped in. "What's this?"
She looked to Severus briefly, but had actually asked Minerva, who turned her bright, cheery expression in her direction, clearly delighted.
"Severus spoke!"
McGonagall looked back to him, but he noted Poppy had eyes only for the Headmistress. Poppy seemed... well, more than fond.
"I'm so glad," she uttered, still looking at Minerva, before turning to him and arching a brow. "Well, young man? How do you feel?"
He cleared his throat again, suddenly feeling as if he was a first year. He managed to raise his voice slightly higher than a whisper, although it remained hoarse.
"Relieved."
"I imagine." Her voice was deadpan, but she sounded bemused and the edges of her lips rose, not quite a smile, but clearly he was forgiven and Severus felt heartened.
Perhaps he had not stepped in it so deeply as he'd thought.
* * *
Several days later, he was finally able to make his careful way to the Headmistress's office. The presence of the senior staff, as well as Hagrid, Filch, Poppy and Kingsley had, at first, given him pause, until he noted they were all smiling affably. It was the raucous applause and cheers from the portraits that embarrassed him, though.
He had ducked his head, partly to hide the sudden flush in his cheeks, but really to give him the opportunity to blink away the distressingly quick to appear moisture in his suddenly warm, aching eyes.
"Well done, my boy, well done!" He looked over to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore who beamed at him, clapping enthusiastically. "Words cannot convey how very pleased I am that you have recovered."
He dipped his head again, this time in acknowledgement but said nothing. This, however, did not appease Pomona, who suddenly stuck two fingers in her mouth to issue a piercing whistle and then cried into the shocked silence, "Speech! Speech!"
The rest chorused her and Severus swallowed. He held up a hand and they quieted.
"I'm not sure what to say. I did what I had to. I did not expect anyone to understand, much less forgive this last year." To his horror, his voice broke and he hesitated, trying to swallow down the seemingly large lump in his throat.
"You'll have to excuse Severus, everyone," Poppy suddenly said, stepping up to touch his throat gently. "His injury still gives him trouble at times."
He looked at her with gratitude and she smiled at him, and then winked. With her back turned to the lot, no one saw this but him. He swallowed again, this time as if testing his throat.
"Of course," Shacklebolt said soothingly, stepping up to take Snape's hand in his. "Good work, man. I'm honoured to call you a friend and colleague in the Order."
"Minister," he managed to whisper a bit hoarsely, but Kingsley merely smiled, clapped a hand to his arm.
"Don't strain your throat, Severus. Why don't I get you some libation?"
Minerva called out, "Hear, hear!"
Soon enough, a glass of elf-made wine was in his hands and he was bade to sit and the small group quickly seated or perched themselves around his chair.
"To Severus!"
"To Severus!"
Minerva's eyes twinkled in a fashion reminiscent of Albus as she added, "The worst Headmaster in the history of Hogwarts... and the very, very best, as well."
"To Severus!"
He had never known such a warm sense of camaraderie in his life.
* * *
Two hours and several drinks later, the only ones remaining in the office aside from Severus, were Filch, Minerva, Poppy, Hagrid and Pomona.
"Neville tells me our Tentaculas brought down at least three giants. Minerva's stone soldiers readily chopped them down to size!"
Sprout capped off this gruesome tale of the battle by finishing off her glass of mead and then standing a bit precariously.
"Well, I'm off. There's sheafs of burning barley to thresh."
"I'll go wi' ye, Perfessor," Hagrid said, standing carefully from his oversized stool and following her out the door. "I have some salamanders to feed."
"I'd best go finish my duties," mumbled Filch. He looked to Snape. "It's good to have you back, Professor."
Poppy sighed after Filch left and set down her nearly empty glass of wine. "I suppose I'd best get back to the Infirmary and see how my assistants have been doing."
She stood and touched Snape's arm lightly, but emphatically. "No duties -- not even light duties -- for the rest of this week. You still need to recover your full strength."
"Very well," he grumbled, not really irritated, but knowing the show of resistance was called for.
She nodded with satisfaction and made her way out of the office without evidence of difficulty in spite of the four glasses of port she had imbibed, he noted.
Looking back to Minerva, he noted the appraising expression on the old witch's face. It shifted to appreciation as Poppy closed the door behind her.
In the absence of students, and after several cups of what she called fortified tea, the fortification of which required a good deal of Scotch, Minerva held few inhibitions.
"Ah, if I were but younger."
Snape lifted a brow at this. "It's not as if you're a decrepit old hag."
Minerva snorted. "And it's not as if you're a frightful troll, Severus. So what keeps you from pulling?"
He sighed. "Is it to be like that then?"
"Like what?"
"Mocking my -- what did you first call it? -- monkish demeanour."
"Merlin, Severus, that was right after the first war."
"And what has changed, Minerva?" He sat straighter, nettled. "First an impoverished teacher with a blemish on his record, mistrusted despite the great Albus Dumbledore's word. No decent witch wanted me and I could hardly be having an indecent one, living at the school, the Ministry's eyes on me and those of my house. Where was I to go pulling? From those here or in the Order who either hated or distrusted me or from my less than savoury Slytherin colleagues?"
Minerva blinked owlishly, clearly startled, and he sighed again, forcing down his temper.
"Forgive me. I'm not fit company it seems." He tried to stand, found his legs trembling a bit and frowned.
"Sit, dear," she stepped up and urged him down. "You're a bit squiffy."
"Nonsense. I barely had three glasses of wine."
"When was the last time you had any sort of spirits, Severus?"
He frowned.
"You judge me unobservant, but I happen to know that unless you imbibed in the privacy of your quarters, you did not touch a drop of spirit, nor take any potion, the whole of this last year, possibly even the year before that."
He swallowed. "It was unwise. I needed to remain vigilant."
"And wound up tighter than a hippocampus chewing on its own tail."
He said nothing and she bent to grasp his hand in hers.
"Severus, it's over. But it's been a very long time since you imbibed and it takes some getting used to after depriving yourself. Be gentle with yourself, lad."
He did not look at her, but finally nodded. She patted his arm.
"As for where to pull -- did you never consider any of us here? Truly?"
He looked up at this and Minerva smiled at him. Her tone was fondly reminiscent.
"There were those among us who found you rather... shall we say fanciable? I know it still holds true, as well."
"You were married."
"Ach! I've been a widow now since your fifth year teaching, if memory serves."
"I'd grown accustomed to keeping to myself by then," he admitted.
"And clearly nothing can ever change," she sighed. "Heavens forfend!"
"Perhaps such change would be... more trouble than it is worth," he managed to say, finding the conversation more than passing odd.
He had duelled with Minerva McGonagall, screamed dire imprecations at her during heated debates over teaching methodology, student punishments and Quidditch, shared a laugh with her over the foibles of various students, even sung drunkenly alongside her one memorable staff holiday party, but never had they left themselves so open to each other.
"How would you know if you don't try?"
He swallowed at this, wanting to extricate himself from the current discussion and suddenly remembered Poppy and her own dilemma.
"Poppy fancies you," he whispered, damning himself for a blabbermouth, but unable to think of any other way to shift their discomfiting conversation.
"What?" Minerva drew back from him, standing and frowning in a disturbing fashion. She did not notice the door behind her opening. "Poppy fancies me?"
The gasp made them both start and look to see the mediwitch staring, horrorstricken, at them from the doorway.
"Popp--"
Severus stood, ignoring the lurching motion and tried to keep speaking, to apologise at the very least, but his still recovering throat chose this moment to tighten painfully.
Pomfrey's eyes filled with tears, but she merely said in a flat tone of voice, "I just came to tell you I left your nightly potion on the desk in your office, Professor Snape."
"Poppy," Minerva tried to say, but Pomfrey rapidly turned and nearly ran out of the room. They could hear her booted feet hurrying down the staircase.
Severus's throat did not ease up, but he felt Minerva spoke eloquently enough for them both.
"Oh, ruddy hell..."
* * *
Despite his fatigue and the fact he did not really wish to confront her, Severus headed for the Infirmary.
He had sobered most thoroughly after Poppy's departure and, upon taking his leave of the equally disconcerted Minerva, he had decided to apologise immediately rather than let the situation fester. He had done that once before, letting his nerves and shame convince him to let time pass and allow things to blow over and he would never do so again. It was the surest way, in his learned opinion, to lose a friend forever.
When he stuck his head in the Infirmary, one of her assistants came up and politely enquired if he needed assistance.
"I'm looking for Madam Pomfrey."
"She's in her quarters. She's off-duty until tomorrow, sir."
Severus nodded. "Thank you."
He turned and headed down the third floor corridor and turned left down another long corridor until he reached a large painting of The Lady With the Lamp.
"Password?"
"I do not have one. I was making a social call on Madam Pomfrey."
The bonnet-wearing woman considered this before turning from him and disappearing out of the picture, taking her lamp with her.
Soon, the glow of the lamp returned.
"She wishes to know who is calling."
He swallowed, hesitant, finally admitting, "Professor Severus Snape."
"I don't believe she will wish to see you, Professor, but I will inform her you are here. Please stand by."
He sighed and pressed thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, wishing once more he had kept his mouth shut or better still, stood up and left instead of telling Minerva what he had. What must Poppy think of him? Especially after he'd apologised and the prior incident had seemed behind him. He shook his head, putting his hand down.
To his surprise, the door suddenly creaked open a hands-width. Two swollen, red eyes stared at him assessingly.
"Poppy." He found himself at a loss for words, finally admitting, "I thought you would not answer."
"Given that you were released from the Infirmary this morning and prefer to see me directly for any physical ailment or illness and not one of my assistants, it is not outside the realm of possibility that you required my assistance." She paused before adding, "I take my vow to my patients quite seriously, you see."
He nodded. "May I come in? I shan't be long."
The Lady With the Lamp, he noted, had returned and was watching their exchange with some interest.
Poppy finally stepped back and opened the door to let him enter.
"Thank you," he dipped his head as he entered the room, both to Poppy as well as the painting.
She closed the door and immediately demanded, "What is it, Severus? I'm no longer on duty."
"I--"
"--and I have no wish to hear your reasons for making my private life a mockery. I have never treated you with anything but kindness and respect and, in the case of this last year, I like to feel I succeeded in at least addressing you with formality, if not effusiveness. So whatever cruel game you are playing with me--"
"It's not a game, Poppy. Truly." He thought back and shook his head. "It was foolish of me, but when I first made the enquiry, in the Infirmary, it was my poor attempt to try to regain a more... congenial relationship with you. I value your opinion, believe me, and I appreciated your politeness this last year. It was more than I had received from any of the other staff."
She considered this, still frowning. "Do you mean to say you were trying to tease me? As if we were friends?"
Her tone and question stung more than he would admit, but he merely replied, "As I said, it was foolish of me. I know better than to expect all the staff to simply forget this last year, much less forgive. I hoped you would understand and that, perhaps, we could regain a certain amount of trust and regard, as colleagues.
"I'm more sorry than I can express to learn I have bungled the opportunity. Trust when I tell you I will not address you with anything less than respect in future, Poppy, and I apologise for having done otherwise."
He swiftly turned to go, not wishing to hear angry words of recrimination. He had tried. He had failed. It seemed, he thought dispiritedly, that friendship and he were simply not meant to be.
"Severus."
He froze, but did not turn, reminding himself it was her right to curse him verbally, if she wished, and telling himself he would not respond in kind.
"We both appear to be making colossal fools of ourselves. Please hear me out."
He drew in a steadying breath and finally managed to turn and say, "I'm listening."
He studied her, but saw no disappointment or disparagement in her face. Truthfully, he could not read her expression and refused to use Legilimency in this instance; he had pried quite enough.
He watched as Poppy shook her head and smiled tiredly before stepping up to him, and to his surprise, leaned up and gently kissed his cheek.
"I forgive you, Severus Shape. If I'm honest, the trouble was less to do with your enquiry than my circumstances." She drew in a deep breath before admitting, "I'm a virgin, you see. Nothing to be ashamed of, I hear, and yet I can't help how I feel. And to answer the question that caused all this trouble, I've fancied Minerva since our school days, when I was a studious Hufflepuff prefect and she was Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
"And you never told her?"
"Did you tell every girl that caught your eye -- or captured your heart -- you fancied her?"
Shape shook his head.
"Well, there you have it. Besides, she was mad for Alastor and I didn't want to offend her sensibilities," Poppy said with a heavy sigh.
Severus nodded. "I know she was married briefly, but her earlier affair with that Romanian Quidditch player after she and Moody called off their engagement was quite the scandal or so my mother informed me. You had to know by then she wasn't strictly a wizard's woman."
"Yes, well. I was the new matron here and unwilling to be involved in what would have been considered further scandal."
"We're very alike in some ways," he admitted.
"Oh? Did you have your eye on some fit young lad then?"
He looked at her askance before noting the twinkle in her eyes and the sly smile. "You're taking the Mickey."
"Isn't that what friends do?"
He relaxed and nodded, pleased she had forgiven his indiscretions, if a bit nonplussed over the general tenor of their conversation.
"Relax, Severus. I know you're as straight as your wand," she said with a sigh.
"How would you know that?" He was genuinely curious as he well knew many of his colleagues assumed the opposite of him, given his monkish nature.
"I have eyes," she replied simply, smiling at him before looking at him compassionately. "I know I'm not the only one who has ever noticed Minerva McGonagall. Or Rosmerta, for that matter."
Severus reddened, feeling suddenly rather faint.
"Now, then, no need to panic, man. Your every secret is safe with me."
"Yes, well." He wished he could come up with a decent excuse to leave. "I suppose I should be grateful you did not use that knowledge earlier. Would have served me right."
Poppy shook her head.
"Oh, Severus - ever the Slytherin. I'm a Mediwitch. I know how to keep a secret!"
He managed a small proud smile. "So do Slytherins."
"Unless the price is right," she quipped.
He sighed. "You have my word no one will learn what you have told me in confidence."
"No one else, you mean," she corrected.
He winced, but conceded she had the right of it. "Aye."
"I'm rather glad he let the cat out of the bag, myself."
Pomfrey and Snape both started at the sound of the Headmistress's voice which issued from the fireplace that was burning a hazy green.
"Minerva!"
Severus quailed, wondering how much of their conversation the canny old witch had overheard.
"Forgive me. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I felt the need to Floo-call and ensure you were quite all right, Poppy. I see my worry was unfounded."
Poppy drew in a steadying breath. "I'm fine, Headmistress."
Minerva considered her old friend. "Minerva, my dear Poppy. We've never stood on ceremony before and we shan't start now. I'll brook no argument."
Severus noted the expressions on the faces of his colleagues; each woman only had eyes for the other. It made him feel a bit at a loss.
He found himself speaking with a rapidity his tender throat did not appreciate. "I really should retire. Minerva. Poppy. A very good night to you both."
He did not wait for their responses, but hurried out the door and ignored the considering look The Lady With The Lamp gave him as he stood in the hallway for a moment to steady his nerves before striding away.
* * *
For the next few days, Severus avoided the staff dining table which was currently the one in the Staff Lounge as none of them felt quite comfortable eating food from a surface that had served as an operating table for the wounded or a bier for the dead. The elves were busily sanding down and polishing every last piece of wood in the Great Hall, or so he had heard. The students and staff would use the room again at the start of term and that was soon enough.
A rather morose-looking elf by the name of Winky who had served as his personal servant during his year as Headmaster insisted on continuing to serve him personally and brought him food and drink, fetched his potions, dealt with his laundering needs and saw to his gloomy old dungeon rooms to which he had returned. There was a sort of comfort in being back where he'd started his teaching life, although it was lonely, but he was used to it even if he had hope of altering his situation in future.
The evening of the third day he was playing hermit, there was a knock on his door. Snape sighed, certain it was the Headmistress coming to take him to task for churlishness.
To his surprise, Minerva and Poppy stood in the hallway. Their expressions were pleasant and a bit expectant, he noted, relieved to not find bitterness or rancour on his doorstep.
"May we enter?"
Severus nodded, stepping back and allowing them into his small sitting area.
"Goodness," Poppy exclaimed, looking at the breathtaking underwater view of the Great Lake which the single window revealed. "This must look incredible by day."
"Living in the dungeons has its bonuses," he said equably. "What brings you to my quarters?"
Both witches shared a look before Minerva gestured to the chairs by the fireplace. "Perhaps we should have a seat?"
"By all means. Wine? Sherry?"
"I'll have half a glass of sherry," Poppy replied. Minerva merely nodded and Snape fetched them both half a glass of his favourite elf-made Amontillado.
"Ah, now that's nice," Minerva nodded approvingly after a sip.
"You're not here to discuss the sherry, Minerva."
"Indeed, but it deserves a word of praise." She smiled at him and Severus relaxed slightly, moving to sit in his customary chair.
"So. What brings you?"
To his interest, Poppy blushed and Minerva placed a hand atop the Mediwitch's own in a proprietary and comforting manner. He found himself unaccountably pleased, genuinely glad for his friends.
"We came to thank you, for one," the Headmistress admitted. "It's been far too long, but as the old saw states, it's never too late."
"Something for which I am profoundly grateful," Poppy admitted now, only a touch bashfully. Her eyes, Snape noted, still held that admiration and desire for Minerva, but shaded now with warmth and a clear sense of fulfillment.
"I see. Congratulations then, are in order," he responded, lifting his glass. "To the pair of you."
"And you," Minerva said quickly. "Without your interference, we might not have found one another."
Snape flushed slightly, clearing his throat and feeling more than a bit uncomfortable.
""Yes, Severus. I owe you a debt of gratitude," Poppy added.
He shook his head. "You owe me nothing. I truly am pleased for the pair of you and wish you many long years of happiness."
"Thank you, Severus, dear. We were hoping, though, that it might be all three of us who share many long years of happiness."
He blinked at Minerva whose smile grew wry. "Or perhaps, just one very special night, if you prefer."
"One night?" He winced as his voice developed an unfortunate squeak that made both witches smile.
Poppy suddenly reached across the space between them to place a hand on his knee. He set his glass down, hoping his action hid the trembling of his fingers.
"Severus. I know you feel you put your foot in it as regards the two of us. And perhaps you did, but it wasn't mean-spirited. It might have been unsolicited but it led to so much more than I ever dreamt was possible that I cannot in any way complain."
"Nor I." Minerva smiled now, warmly and without a trace of malice or mockery. "I did not lie when I told you some here find you quite fanciable. Do you remember?"
He nodded, feeling his pulse racing now along with a slight headache.
"Don't be frightened, dear," Poppy interjected now, patting his leg. "If you don't agree, we'll forget this conversation ever took place and go on about our business."
"Agree?" He desperately wished he could clear his throat of whatever was making his voice first squeak and now crack as if he were a spotty-faced teen.
"Yes." Minerva sat straighter. "We have a simple proposition. It's been an embarrassingly long time since I've shared a bed with a man and, as I confessed to Poppy, I very much like to from time to time, even when I have an understanding with another witch. It adds a bit of spice, I find."
Poppy drew in a steadying breath. "And I have never been with a man at all and should like to experience it, at least once."
"We both trust you and find you, well, fanciable," Minerva added. "What we're proposing is a single night of -- shall we say discovery? And if all are amenable afterwards, we would not be averse to sharing a bed, even a hearth and home unless you prefer to keep your own and simply visit from time to time or stay for a few days at a stretch."
Snape swallowed, feeling distinctly odd and striving to remind himself that he trusted these two women above all others and that they would not play an elaborate practical joke such as he was half-heartedly trying to convince himself was the case.
"We've frightened you," Poppy said now with an unhappy expression.
"If it would put your mind at ease, we are prepared to take Veritaserum--"
"Or make an Unbreakable Vow--"
"No!"
The witches' headlong rush of words were interrupted by Snape's sudden exclamation. He shook his head, distressed.
"No, I will not have it!"
He stood and then flushed nearly scarlet as he realised this made the erection that had been developing since he had heard Minerva utter the phrase "all three of us" quite visible. He turned away, mortified.
A momentary silence fell over the group, punctuated only by his gulping, disbelieving breaths.
"We're very sorry, Severus. We'll leave you alone then."
"We didn't mean to distress you, dear, and I, for one, am very sorry your answer is no. I consider it a deep loss that I shall never learn what a dedicated lover I'm sure you must be."
He shook his head, which helped clear his muddled thoughts and turned again, fighting to keep from covering his groin with a hand; they had already seen and Poppy was a mediwitch and Minerva his oldest friend on the staff. He knew they would not humiliate him, although they might tease him. It had taken him a very long time to learn one did not necessarily follow the other, something that had not been the case when he'd been a school boy.
"My answer wasn't no. Not to your proposal," he clarified. "I meant no to the Unbreakable Vow. I'll not take one. Never again. And I'll not accept one. Not from anyone. Not for any reason. I can't."
His statement was a fervent headlong rush of words said in a pained voice that made both witches feel great pity and compassion.
"We're very sorry, Severus, to have reminded you of painful memories. We just wanted to assure you of our discretion."
He shook his head. "There's no need. I have literally no secrets from Poppy, and I trust you, Minerva McGonagall, far more than you realise."
She considered this. "You said your answer wasn't no to the proposal."
He swallowed and nodded, twin spots of high colour flaring on his thin cheekbones.
Poppy stepped up to him and placed a warm hand over his heart, feeling his pulse racing beneath her fingers.
"Will you be with me, Severus, then? At least the once?"
He swallowed again and nodded rapidly, feeling himself grow even harder, a painful pressure against the snug fabric of his trousers.
"I... It's been a rather long time for me," he finally admitted in a small voice. "I'm not sure how accomplished I can manage to be. I'll probably disappoint."
Minerva stepped up now and, without preamble, leaned up slightly to kiss him tenderly. He moaned and leaned into it, kissing her back.
"Mayhap we can take this to your bedroom, dear? Where we can all be most thoroughly disappointed."
But she said it with a gentle smile and Severus found he did not resent the teasing or the implication at all, coming as it did, from a good friend.
* * *
It should not have surprised him that Minerva would take the lead, dimming the room's light and using magic to undress them all. It did surprise him, however, when she went first, sliding her lean, strong body along his, atop his and without preamble, settled on his aching hardness, firm hands to his chest.
She was very warm, snug and damp, and he moaned helplessly as he looked up at her.
Her smile was knowing, impish, heated and her hands smoothed over his nipples, fingers plucking sharp notes of pleasure from him. When he erupted but moments later, her kiss stifled any apology he might have tried to fashion.
She pulled back from him, hands stroking his face and gentling his tousled hair.
"There now," she said in a voice not much higher than a whisper. "That takes the edge off, yes?"
He issued a breathy sigh before nodding, grateful she did not shame or recriminate as he knew some witches would. Then he looked to Poppy, who had been watching their exchange from the other side of the bed. Severus swallowed.
The smaller witch had rounded curves, big breasts with tightly budded nipples and one hand was gripping the bedsheets between tantalizing thighs, clearly aroused. In the dim light, her skin was lovely, gleaming like marble.
"You're a vision," he whispered now, meaning it. He held a hand out to her and she took it, uncertain smile firming to one of hopeful joy.
Minerva had slid off him and retired to the end of the bed where she rested on her side, watching the proceedings with a knowing glint in her gaze. She was spare, Severus noted, but after having experienced her, knew Minerva was also strong and lithe as a much younger witch, as well as wiry. Her skin was, perhaps, thinner with age, but the muscle beneath remained firm and taut. Her blue-gray eyes were canny, knowing and expectant.
Emboldened by the knowledge he was replete for the time being, Severus took the lead with Poppy, settling her beside him before leaning over to kiss and caress her. Her skin was soft and smooth and he felt he could stroke it for hours.
When she whimpered against his mouth as his hand slid along her hip, he moved that hand to the soft springy curls between her legs. Poppy started briefly before settling and he kissed her soothingly.
His fingers carded through her moist curls and circled in until he slid within the warm cleft. He deepened their kiss as his thumb and index finger gently used a plucking motion over her clitoris.
Poppy nearly levitated, but he continued his ministrations, kissing her deeply as he allowed his thumb to keep stroking atop her budded center of pleasure, even as his other fingers explored lower down. He slid two fingers into slippery warmth as he pressed her clitoris and was rewarded with a barely stifled shriek and pulled back to watch her shudder beneath him.
"Oh, Severus!"
"Mm." He smiled as he continued the motion, feeling her building to another, more powerful climax and bent to lick a tender tan nipple. She gasped when he suckled it and he smiled again when he felt his fingers being pushed from her along with a surge of fluid. She writhed beneath his touch.
"Oh, Severus..."
He was about to slide down, intending cunnilingus when a gentle hand stroked his ankle and he looked down to the smiling Minerva.
"Let me, dear. I plan to clean the both of you... after."
Snape swallowed, but nodded and instead, carefully insinuated himself between Poppy's trembling thighs.
"Poppy."
She opened captivatingly blue eyes and drew in an unsteady breath, smiled at him tenderly. "Oh, Severus."
"Are you ready?" He knelt between her legs, arched above her, but careful not to touch her with his heavy and once-again rigid cock.
She nodded trustingly and he stretched against her then, letting her feel his erection as it pressed against her mons even as he kissed her.
He felt her hold him close, before sensing one of her hands moving to touch him. Snape swallowed hard and moved back onto his knees again, allowing her to learn him.
She stroked his firm shaft, watching with interest as the foreskin slid forward and withdrew, revealing the startling red glans beneath the otherwise pale, veined flesh.
"It's a beauty, isn't it?" Poppy smiled at Minerva's comment and nodded.
"I've treated these," she admitted now. "But I've never held one like this... or seen one in this condition that wasn't under-aged and whose owner wasn't mortified for same."
"Then it's about time you were introduced to a proper Wizard's wand," Minerva opined, gently nudging them both. "Go on. You have me wetter than a grindylow, you know."
Poppy looked over at this. "Oh, Minerva. Join us if you wish."
Snape said nothing, fighting off the growing impatience he felt as that firm warm hand stroked him.
"No, dear. This time is for you."
Poppy nodded a bit uncertainly, but turned back to Severus who merely gave her a pained smile.
"I'm sorry." She let him go. "Shall we then?"
Unable to articulate in any manner that would be polite, pleasant or anything that would not frighten her, he merely stretched over her again and captured her mouth in a fervent kiss, even as he gripped himself tightly, throttling back the urge to thrust forcefully until he found release.
He insinuated himself between her damp thighs, sought and found that warm, wet opening and nudged it with the tip of his cock. Her tight grip on his shoulders gave him pause and he pulled back to look at her.
"Severus."
He nodded, nearly beyond speech or proper clarity of thought.
"Please. I want to see your face."
He groaned with relief and allowed himself to slide within her, hoping she would let him... let him...
She gasped and a look of surprised pleasure came over her face and her hands urged him on. Severus groaned and let his hips have sway, thrusting smoothly and powerfully within the warm and willing witch.
"Oh, yes!"
He gasped, holding himself above her, holding onto the thought she wanted to see him for whatever reason; he did not care, he merely hoped to find release and not hurt her.
"Oh, Severus!"
The words and her tone spurred him on, faster and harder and he felt the tightening, the building, powerful need to release filling him, surging through his veins.
Suddenly Poppy shrieked and the sound startled him into a spontaneous ejaculation. He groaned as he ground into her hips, relishing the feel of her strong hands gripping his shoulders as he spent deep inside her.
He had not known such pleasure in some time; his earlier efforts with Minerva gratifying but not quite overpowering. This, this was fierce and demanding and all he knew was a flood of sensation. Severus was not sure he had ever known such pleasure.
His prior liaisons were restricted to the time before he'd started to work at the school and consisted of well-bred young witches and a few older widowed witches the Malfoys had introduced to him. Many had been interested until they learnt the state of his finances and only one had been inclined to dally with him beyond a few kisses and some fumbling. She had shown him a world of pleasure in the few weeks of their affair before returning to her wayward husband, the existence of whom he had been unaware. That and a very embarrassing incident after a holiday party in which a drunken Narcissa had shamelessly toyed with him in order to shame her then-wayward husband were the extent of his sexual history.
"Rest, dear," Minerva kissed his sweaty cheek and stroked his damp back, even as she leaned over him to kiss Poppy, as well. "Both of you were quite splendid and I shall want you both later, but for now... rest."
Severus settled beside Poppy who laid her head against his shoulder. He watched then as Minerva leaned over and gently, but thoroughly, began to lick the excess moisture from between Poppy's thighs.
The mediwitch turned an interesting shade of mauve and gasped before turning to him beseechingly. He caressed her face and kissed her through the intense barrage of sensations, before finding his own breath catching in his throat as Minerva turned to his own highly sensitised genitals and began to tongue, then suck his bollocks. Poppy soothed him, smiling as their lover fastidiously licked her way around his spent cock until reaching the tip whereupon she twirled her tongue expertly beneath his prepuce to cleanse the glans.
"Minerva!"
"Mm." Her tone was quite self-satisfied and both looked to find her wiping at her face with a finger before sniffing and licking that finger with gusto. Never, he thought with hazy pleasure, had she looked more like a cat. "You are quite the treat."
She stretched and lazily stood up to slide the bedsheet over them. She kissed them both again, sharing a hint of the taste she found so flavourful, and bid them rest well. Then she smiled, changing into her Animagus form and lightly clambering up on the bed to curl up between their legs, still licking occasionally at a paw. Soon, she fell asleep as did Poppy.
Severus lay catching his breath, staring up at the stone and timbers of his rooms and finding them not quite so stygian as once he did. Instead they looked strong and protective, much as he suddenly felt toward these two witches sharing his bed.
It was an embarrassment of riches -- from a sexual drought to a veritable flood. He smiled as he relaxed, feeling his heart rate slowing.
It was more than that, he knew. He had gone from a lifelong monkish entrapment to a full-fledged relationship. If he wished, it would always be his.
For the first time in his life, Severus felt wanted and not for his potions knowledge or spell-casting or to get back at someone else. He, himself, was wanted, as a man, and the feeling was rather humbling.
Neither of these women would hurt him, he knew. Neither would judge him harshly and both would be there when a friend... or more... was needed.
Severus Snape was surprised to find he very much wanted such surety and solicitude in his life. If he'd been less sleepy and pleasantly sex-addled, his intense longing would not have surprised him, considering he had never experienced either before.
All he knew as he drifted into a pleasant, dreamless sleep was that, for the first time, the future held no terrors, only such delights as he had just enjoyed, and that, unless he chose it, he would never know the numbing ache of loneliness again.