Persistent knocking on the door to his dungeon quarters roused Severus Snape from correcting his third years' essays. He easily passed his quill to the left hand as he just continued reading, blindly reaching for his wand with the other and waving it into the air to let the door swing open and reveal the knocker. "Yes?" he asked in his usual dry tone as the creaking sound of the door ceased, soon followed by a hollow, muted thumping sound as the doorknob connected with the stone wall. Firm footsteps sounded on the carpeted floor of his office, and only as those came to a halt, and as he could feel the nearness of someone right before him did he cast his gaze up, looking into the face of Minerva McGonagall.

His eyebrow quirked in question as he took in her appearance: a few tiny wisps had escaped her otherwise flawless bun, and he momentarily suspected that she might have run through the corridors to where she stood now. Maybe she had taken the liberty and turned into a cat and had transfigured into a woman again at his door. Her eyebrows were set in an angle which he couldn't quite put any emotion on for his sake. Anger seemed to fit best. Her teal green eyes shone like icy blue in the light of the fireplace and the few torches lining the wall where it wasn't covered by shelves of large glass jars filled with slimy, revolting things, such as bits of animals and plants, floating in potions of various colors. Her nostrils were flared, he noticed.

Her rosy lips were a thin line up until she spoke, her hands coming down on the top of his desk in intimation or anger or a combination of both. "Is there any reason whatsoever why four Gryffindors of mine have gained detention in Potions in one day?" She should have known that he would reply on it with… tact, though. Minerva McGonagall had been his teacher in Transfiguration during the whole of his education at Hogwarts. She had worked there for more years than he had been alive, was a quarter of a century older and wiser and more powerful than him, yet he was not intimidated by her. He had rarely been as a pupil even. In fact, he thought she looked quite breathtaking when she was so enraged. He had always found so, reveling that bit more in it when one of the other pupils in his days had gotten a reproof of her or detention. Now was no exception. She had become nearly two decades older as when he had first seen her at the age of eleven, her having been thirty-six then. She was the perfect indication of witches aging slower. No gray hair had stained her long thick ebony hair yet, and even though a few vague lines had surfaced beside her eyes and lips, she had not changed much. He highly doubted that even a regular Muggle woman of thirty-six could look so nice as she still did then.

"I believe you should ask that your dear Gryffindors."

"I have, and neither of them believed that the detention was warranted," Minerva said, teeth clenched.

"Naturally."

"Severus Snape, not even I give detention for the impossible reasons they mentioned leading to their detention," she said, rising up to her full height… as if to defend herself from being beaten in giving detention… and felt betrayed that he, Severus Snape, seemed to be close to taking the title of master of detention giving. "You see, I suspect it might have something to do with Slytherin losing from Gryffindor this weekend," she said, reminding him painfully of the Quidditch match two days prior which had been won by her House with 40-230 after about two hours into the game.

"I'm appalled that you seem to believe that I would sink so low."

"You don't necessarily have to sink for it, Severus Snape," she said, and even though she usually remained civil with him, when he called in the house rivalry, she would defend her House as well. "You're already there. You're a Slytherin after all." Her eyes were steel hard as she continued to look at him with despise. If he could not lose with his head held high, at least with fairness would be appreciated!

A smile made his lips curl, and suddenly he stood, dropping his quill to the desk and moving his warm hands atop of hers. She released a nearly inaudible gasp as her mouth momentarily opened in something that held the middle between surprise and shock. It actually took her a few seconds to compose herself again, gaining enough to finally close her mouth, lips tightening upon each other. They stood facing each other in silence, his hands gluing hers to the desk top. Black connected with green. Severus had always been fascinated by her eyes in silence. He had gotten to like green eyes, ever since the first time he had noticed Lily Evans as a child. She was already gone for about half a decade, but he could still recall her eyes vividly. The thought of them made him feel vulnerable inside. The thought of him never being able to see them in that life again caused a havoc of emotions in him that no one would be able to guess, taking in his usually calm posture.

Minerva McGonagall's eyes were nothing like Lily's. Lily's had been sugar sweet and kind, whereas Minerva's were truly none of that... They were mysterious and fascinating. They were intelligent and unyielding. He somehow loved that impenetrableness.

As a Death Eater, Severus Snape had bedded many a woman… none of them with any bit of feeling involved and none of them more than once or twice – usually once. He had lost his virginity to an older blonde woman within two weeks of having joined the dark side.

None of them had been bedded without consent, though. Rape had never appealed to him; he even had a hard time watching others do it and especially on young women who had barely or hadn't even yet passed the line of childishness. He always found excuses, many of them claiming he felt himself too… good to find his needs sated in unwilling women. He of course could get many a woman in his bed without having to do a lot of effort for it…

It didn't take away that he rarely remembered their names, which was not unusual when the only name that ever passed through his mind when moving atop of them was Lily… That's maybe why Severus always preferred red haired women, too. Severus Snape bedded them with the gentleness which he would have saved for Lily… until their voices sounded, encouraging him to treat them rougher… He seemed to attract women who preferred it rough in bed. He would give them rough once their voices had sounded, so unlike Lily's sweet tone and cadence, and he again must realize, no matter if he had his eyes screwed shut tightly and the thought and name of Lily Evans whirling in his mind, they were not her… and not even in his imagination could he have her that way.

Sometimes when he couldn't bear hearing them anymore, he would opt for a gag – most of them even liked it. He pounded into them hard until he himself reached satisfaction. Sometimes the women would reach it as well, but they rarely did. Most of the time they were just left unsatisfied, but he couldn't care less about them or their delight. Maybe that was one of the reasons why few ever returned.

Snape's hands slid from hers, and he crossed the desk slowly to halt right before her without the piece of furniture shedding them, never losing eye contact with her. He was not afraid or intimidated by her even though he was twenty-nine and she fifty-four. "Do you have any idea how irresistible you are when you look like that?" he questioned, and before she had the chance to say or do anything, his calloused right hand found its way to her jaw, lifting it, his lips coming down upon hers. Her eyes immediately flew open wide as his… closed, and he tenderly teased her lips apart with his tongue, his other hand coming to rest upon her hip, easily sliding down her curves until his flat hand rested upon her bum, pulling her a little closer to him.

A few seconds ticked by until her eyes eventually fluttered shut as well, the long lost sensation of a skilled tongue and hands… his fingers upon her and taking over. One hand reached up, found nothing to do and fell beside her again like the other, both arms just hanging limply by her side. It had already been four years since she had gotten widowed and while not young, fifty-four was indeed young for a witch to remain in celibacy… Besides, deep inside Minerva McGonagall was a very passionate woman, whether it was actually believed by many or few or no one at all; it was a truth only two men could acknowledge, and both of them were no more.

She wondered how many women he had had already at his age, knowing the reputation of Death Eaters if it came to that subject. She certainly trusted Dumbledore if he said that Snape was to be trusted, though. If you couldn't trust Dumbledore, then who else could you in fact trust? The thought was easily pushed from her mind as lack of breath broke them apart, and Minerva panted loud upon looking at him… into the face of a man who had once been her pupil, had then run in the bad direction full force but found the good path again soon after his former school mates had gotten killed. You must have been blind not to have known that Snape and the Marauders had been arch rivals, having seen and heard of many an occurrence between him and especially James Potter. Even though Lily had ended up getting married to one of the Marauders, Severus Snape had always been kind to her – especially in the beginning. There were a few occurrences she had never been really able to place, though – moments when he had suddenly, without reason, not been so nice anymore. Of course she and everyone else with the exception of himself and Dumbledore knew about the reasons. He had loved Lily Evans with all his heart… still did…

He was a quarter of a century younger as she, and she felt somehow as if she was betraying her husband… She had never loved him the way she had once loved Dougal, but she doubted that she ever would love anyone as damn much as the Muggle who had captured her heart years prior and had made her fall in love with him… Minerva had accepted to marry him right away, but had had to run for her decision in the end… for it battled against basically all she was, and she being a rather powerful witch knew that sooner or later the magic would burst… maybe even until killing the love of her life in the instant. Both he and Elphinstone were no more at that point, but still…

Severus Snape had somehow always loved her unique Scottish brogue… Maybe for once he could make love to a woman without at one point having to want it over and done with from the moment she actually opened her mouth. At that point he had still suspected that she would be the kind to lay back idly with the occasional moan, even though hoping she was what she in fact was.

With unseen tenderness he laid his forehead against hers as he momentarily doubted about whether to continue or not. She most likely wasn't the kind to have one-night-flings either. She was intelligent enough to know this was nothing more… if it actually was to be. She was one of the most intelligent, if not the most intelligent woman he had ever known.

"Once…" he breathed against her lips, the warm hand that had cupped her jaw earlier skimming over her bosom to her hip to cup her bum, tightening both of his hands over it possessively. She nodded almost unnoticeably. Without knowing who leaned in first, their lips met once more, and he lifted her into his arms effortlessly, hooking her legs over his hips and carrying her to his bedroom…

…where he made love to a woman for the first time in his life without feeling the rush to get it over and done with upon hearing her voice. Her moans and little squeaks and cries had instead encouraged him… and for the first time in his life, Severus Snape had enjoyed himself that way without having to think of how Lily would feel, to really find satisfaction.