Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the characters, I'm just torturing them for a bit. All in good fun though. ;-)

A/N: Well here it is. This plot bunny emerged the other day when on the AlbusandMinerva board Happy Reader! asked what kind of kink(s) our dear couple would be into. It was actually quite easy to write, especially since most of the ideas for it came from my husband and not me! As he put it, he drew the outline and I colored it in. This is pure sillyness and I hope you'll still take my other stories seriously after this.

-April :-)

Why is it Always Me?

"Did you manage to get everything taken care of at the Ministry, my dear?" asked Minerva whilst removing her robe. She carelessly tossed it on a nearby table and adjusted the laces of her corset. The black leather was soft and pliable after a thorough conditioning the night before with Corium's Captivating and Ceaseless Conditioning Cream.

"I believe so, though Fudge still seems to think that I can just wave my wand and make Voldemort go away." Albus shrugged off his heavy maroon robes and they fell to the floor in a heap. He conjured a handkerchief out of the air and polished a few of the studs adorning the leather chest harness he wore. He mentally noted that his leather shorts had become a touch more snug since the last time he was in them. I have to lay off all that pudding.

Minerva put on a pair of tight black gloves that reached just past her elbow. "Really, just because you defeated Grindelwald all those years ago, he expects you to be the savior of wizard-kind everywhere," she commented, flexing her fingers to stretch out the material covering her hands. With one last check on her boots to make sure they were still laced up perfectly, she reached for the riding crop that she had set on a dusty desk earlier.

"Sadly, I fear it will fall on Harry to be wizard-kind's savior, as you put it." Albus turned, his back now facing the stern transfiguration professor. She grabbed her wand and muttered a few words. Ropes flew out of the end of it and attached themselves to the headmaster's wrists, suspending both arms above his head. Lastly, Minerva secured a blindfold around his head.

"It may take a while, but I think he will eventually come to terms with that." She placed her wand back on the desk and assumed her position behind Albus. "Remember, the safety words are sherbet lemon."

"Neville, if you're that upset about it, just go take a walk or something. That'll clear your head," suggested Ron, sleepily. He had heard a shout of fear and woke up to investigate. Neville apparently had a nightmare.

"Y-y-yeah, I think you're right. Thanks, Ron." He got no response, as Ron's head had already hit the pillow. Sighing to himself, Neville pulled back the covers and got out of bed. Pulling on a robe over his pajamas, he grabbed his wand and headed out the dorm. Not normally one to wander about the halls at night, Neville was nervous at first, but decided that he needed something to calm him. The greenhouses were just the ticket! He loved herbology; it was the only subject he excelled in. He exited Gryffindor tower, with the Fat Lady not even noticing, and made his way to the stairs.

But as luck would have it, this particular set decided to change on him. Now he was headed down an unknown hallway in the opposite direction he needed to go. It reminded him vaguely of his first year at Hogwarts when they accidentally found themselves in the forbidden third floor corridor. Neville hoped that he wouldn't run into any more large, three-headed dogs. Cursing his rotten fortune, he continued down the expanse of the dark hall with only his wand's light to guide him.


What was that? He stopped dead in his tracks and spun around, shining his wand this way and that. It sounded like it was coming from the end of the corridor. Mustering all his Gryffindor courage, Neville decided to investigate.


There it was again! This time he could have sworn he heard a woman's laugh following it. There was a door a few feet ahead and he could just make out enough light coming from underneath to suggest that it was occupied. Quietly, he pressed his ear to the wooden door and listened.


He jumped slightly at the sound. A muffled groan followed and Neville's eyes widened. Someone was being tortured in there! Paying no heed to what he might find behind the door, his hand went for the doorknob and found it unlocked. Neville pushed gently, thankful it made no noise and saw...


He shut the door quickly, the noise of it echoing throughout the hall. His eyes bugged and his face turned bright red. No! No! No! No! NO! I did not just see that! I'm still dreaming. I never left the dorm. I'm still tucked in. Maybe I'm hallucinating? To test his theory, he boldly opened the door once more and was greeted with an equally odd sight.

Sitting at an empty desk were Dumbledore and McGonagall happily sipping tea in their usual attire. His head of house turned to look at him. "What are you doing wandering about the school at night, Mr. Longbottom?" she demanded.

"Nothing, ma'am," he squeaked. Neville shut the door as fast as he could and took off running back towards the stairs. Thankfully they were just returning to normal as he stepped onto them. Not even checking to see if the hall was clear, Neville jogged toward the portrait of the Fat Lady. He shouted the password, startling her awake.

"What the devil! What are you doing out of bed?"

"Never mind, just open up!"


He dove through the open portal and collapsed on a couch in the common room. He couldn't shake the images from his mind. McGonagall...leather...Dumbledore...hot pants. It was almost too much for his poor brain to take, but they were burnt into his memory forever. Did he really see that? Were they really just having tea in an empty classroom? Neville was beyond confused. Who takes tea at two in the morning?

"Do you think we should have modified his memory?" asked Minerva, after she regained her voice. She berated herself for not locking the door.

"That seems a bit excessive, don't you think, my dear?"

"What if he tells someone about what he saw?" she asked, panicking once again.

Albus patted her hand gently. "I don't think the boy knows for sure what he saw. I think we succeeded in flummoxing him."

"I hope you're right, Albus," she said resigned, but still worried. "Next time, remind me to lock the door."

After a week of self-denial and mental brick wall building, Neville was finally able to look his transfiguration teacher in the face without envisioning...that. She didn't seem to act any differently around him, so he came to the conclusion that the whole thing was some elaborate prank. If the Weasley twins were still at school, he wouldn't put it past them to come up with such a trick, but since they were gone, Neville figured it must have been Peeves or the Slytherins.

On Saturday, Neville was enjoying the sunshine by the lake with some of his fellow Gryffindors when he suddenly sat up and shouted, "Oh no! I completely forgot!"

"What did you forget now, Neville?" asked Seamus, lazily.

Neville's face looked anxious. "Gran's coming down tomorrow to take me to a family get together. I was supposed to ask the headmaster's permission days ago!"

"I think Dumbledore's in his office," said Harry. "You still have time to ask."

He jumped up and ran towards the castle. He had been so preoccupied with what happened in that unused classroom that he completely forgot about his great uncle's birthday party. After three failed attempts at saying the correct password to the headmaster's office, Neville finally remembered it and hit the jackpot with "flibbertigibbet". The gargoyle moved aside and Neville hopped onto the moving staircase. As he approached the office door, he heard a voice that sounded like Professor McGonagall's coming from the other side.

The door was slightly ajar and despite his better judgment, Neville peered through the crack just in time to see Minerva undo her robe and drop it to the floor. Not again! A table obscured his view and all he saw was her back. From his vantage point, Neville deduced that her hat was the only item of clothing she was wearing. He could see only the deputy headmistress and had no idea where Dumbledore was. Minerva had placed her hands on her hips in obvious annoyance.

"Don't you know how to use that thing?" she asked, causing Neville's eyes to widen and a blush to spread across his face.

"I've never had a problem using it before, Minerva," came the headmaster's answer.

"Well, with something that old and rusty, I'm surprised its lasted this long." Neville's hands flew to his mouth, stifling a giggle in spite of himself. He walked quietly back to the staircase. I'll risk Gran's anger, he thought. I'm not going in there. Neville took a few minutes to collect himself in the hallway just past the gargoyle. His mind immediately went back to that classroom. Merlin, that was them! He convulsed involuntarily. Something has to be wrong with them. They don't normally act this way, do they? Since when have they been...involved? No, Neville decided, something was wrong with them. Maybe, You-Know-Who was toying with their minds and forcing them to act completely out of character? No matter how preposterous that sounded, Neville came to believe it wholeheartedly. Anything was better than the alternative; that they actually enjoyed it.

"Albus, I swear to Merlin I'm going to buy you a new camera for Christmas!" Minerva said, putting her robe back on. She smiled at him to show that she wasn't mad. Albus had his camera pulled apart and was fiddling around with the parts. "That thing must be at least fifty years old!"

"I suppose I could do with a new one," Albus said after a few minutes of examining the inner workings of the camera.

"Pah! In my day, men would capture the image of their lovers with a paintbrush. I don't think you'd know what to do with a paintbrush if it lodged--"

"That's enough, Nicodemus!" Albus cried, shaking his head in resignation at the portrait's outburst. Minerva laughed and motioned for Albus to follow her out. As they left, Nicodemus' offer to paint Minerva himself was drowned out by the slamming of the door.

Neville was pacing up and down the corridor. He needed to tell someone, but who? It couldn't be a student; who would believe him? No, it needed to be someone in a position to intervene. It needed to be a professor. "That's it! The first professor I see will be the one I go to," he muttered to the empty hallway. Neville turned to head back outside when his eyes landed on the distinct, flowing black robes of Professor Severus Snape. Anyone but him, he thought.

"Longbottom!" shouted Snape in his usual deep and menacing voice. "What you doing just standing about?"

"I..I..well..I...was," Neville stammered. Just tell him! "A-a-a-actually, there was something I n-n-need to t-tell you."

"Well, spit it out, boy!"

Forget it, just run! "It's-not-really-that-important-after-all," Neville said in one breath. He took off at a run, heading for the boy's bathroom.

Snape called out to him. "Ten points for running in the halls and five point for wasting my time!"

Neville hated losing Gryffindor points, but he couldn't help it. Why did he even attempt to tell Snape? He turned on the tap, splashing cold water on his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. After a few minutes, he was calm again. "Okay, the next professor I see."

He pushed open the door and peeked down the hall to make sure Snape was no longer in the area. Breathing a sigh of relief, Neville exited and once again attempted to get to the entrance hall. He was so worried that Snape was going to come around every corner that he wasn't watching where he was going and ran right into someone.

"I'm sorry, Madam Hooch, I wasn't paying attention."

She smiled down at him, her yellow eyes sparkling merrily. "Not a problem, Mr. Longbottom. Why aren't you outside on such a beautiful day?"

"Well, I was, but then I needed to ask Professor Dumbledore something," Neville babbled on. She's as good as any other professor, he thought. "Can I tell you something?"

Hooch was slightly alarmed by the fear in his eyes. "Merlin, child, what's the matter?"

Neville looked around one last time before leaning in and whispering his discoveries and suspicions into her ear. Hooch's eyes grew larger with each passing second and her mouth began to twitch. It took every ounce of composure she had not to burst out laughing. She cleared her throat.

"Thank you, Mr. Longbottom, for bringing this to my attention. Don't worry, I will investigate your findings." The poor boy looked so relieved to finally get the information off his chest. "I wouldn't tell anyone else, though. Leave it to me."

"Thanks, Madam Hooch." She watched the young Gryffindor walk away. Once he was out of sight, Hooch doubled over in silent laughter. She couldn't, however, prevent a rather unladylike snort from escaping. Those two really need to learn to lock the door, she thought.

"You look like the cat who swallowed the canary, Rolanda," observed Professor Flitwick.

"Oh, I'm just in an exceptionally good mood, that's all." She sat down next to the tiny charms professor and pulled out her book. Several other teachers had also come to the staff room to relax. Rolanda couldn't get the image of her best friend and their employer engaging in some rather naughty extra curricular activities out of her head. As far as she knew, Poppy and her were the only members of the staff who knew about their intimate relationship. Poor, poor Neville. The whole thing was really quite amusing to her.

She heard the door open and looked up in curiosity. The flying instructor had to suppress her giggles once more upon seeing Minerva walk into the room. The older witch sat down in the only vacant chair, her mind still lingering on that fateful night. She really hoped Neville hadn't told anyone.

"Professor McGonagall, I must ask that you do something about the insolence of your Gryffindors," Snape said. "Their behavior is abysmal. Perhaps you should whip them into shape."

All eyes turned in Rolanda's direction as she failed to stop a snort of laughter from getting out. Minerva was puzzled by her friend's outburst, but ignored it as she replied to Snape, his choice of wording alarming her. "The insolence of my Gryffindors? If your Slytherins behaved half as well-- "

Hagrid, who came bursting into the room, cut her off. "I did it! I finally finished it!" he shouted, excitedly. He held up the most horrid looking, putrid green sweater they'd ever seen. It still had the knitting needles in it. "Olympe'll love it!" He noticed the tense looks on both Snape and McGonagall's faces. "Is everything all right, Professor McGonagall, you look fit to be tied!"

This time, Rolanda had been taking a sip of her tea just as Hagrid spoke and she sprayed it all over Flitwick. "Sorry, Filius," she mumbled. Minerva glared at her. At the groundskeeper's words, Minerva's face began to twitch slightly.

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about Hagrid," reassured Sprout. "They're just having another one of their battles of wills. You know neither one can ever restrain themselves." A vein in Minerva's forehead began to throb.

Argus Filch decided to speak up in defense of Snape. "Now, I agree with Professor Snape. Those kids have no respect for their elders!"

"What would you have us do, Argus," asked Flitwick, "institute spankings?" Minerva was now shaking with indignation and Rolanda was biting her lip to keep herself under control.

"ENOUGH!" Everyone stopped talking and stared at the now standing Minerva McGonagall. "I don't find any of your insinuations funny! What Albus and I do in our spare time is none of your business!" She hurriedly left, shutting the door so hard that dust fell from the ceiling. Rolanda at this point had tears in her eyes and was openly laughing. The others looked upon her with interest.

"What just happened?" someone asked.

"Beats me," replied Hagrid.

"I think we're going to need Poppy's help with Madame Hooch," said Flitwick, pointing at the floor in front of the fireplace. Rolanda laughed so hard that she had trouble breathing and passed out.

Two more weeks had passed without incident and for that Neville was grateful. He had another talk with Madame Hooch, who assured him that all was well and not to worry about it anymore. He hadn't told anyone, though there was a few times where he almost slipped. He noticed that Professor McGonagall seemed to have stopped speaking to the other teachers. He wondered what happened there. If Madame Hooch told the others, maybe she was too embarrassed to look them in the face?

Neville walked purposefully down the stairs and into the dingy hallways of the dungeons. He didn't want to be there, but his own stupidity was to blame. He had forgotten his potions textbook and Snape had assigned a three and a half foot essay for the weekend, so he really needed it. He hoped beyond hope that the classroom would be unlocked and he could just get in and get out. Fat chance, he thought fleetingly. Neville noticed a faint glow coming from beneath the door and his courage faltered. Snape would no doubt lecture him about leaving his school things lying around and take off who knows how many house points. Taking in a deep breath, Neville knocked on the door. He heard no response. He tried again, but still no reply. Guess he's not in there. Neville turned the handle and pushed the door open.


No. No. No. No. NO! What is going on with these people? First McGonagall, now Hooch! The only differences in their outfits were the flying goggles adorning Hooch's face. She turned to look at Neville, feeling his stare, and grinned evilly.


Shaking his head, Neville casually closed the door. I'll be scarred for life now. Though a part of him rejoiced in the fact that someone was beating Snape, even if it wasn't quite the way he'd go about it.


Neville could hear the riding crop hit even through the door.


He stared at the door in shock and awe.

"Asphodel!" he heard Snape scream. "Asphodel! ASPHODEL! You're supposed to stop when I say the safety word!"

"Oh, sorry Sev, I forgot. I just thought you were being really passionate about your potions."

Neville looked toward the heavens and asked whomever might be looking down on him, "Why is it always me?"

A/N: Still with me? I'm not usually one for Hooch/Snape, but my husband made me throw that in:-) Also, I was inspired by the hilarious cartoon, Family Guy and the movie Calendar Girls. Please review!