fics_by_maple | (no subject)

Birthday gift fic written for

abigail89, first posted at

teh_archives here.

I couldn't write Snarry or Harry/Hermione for her, but Harry/Minerva ... Well, maybe all my *DPOL will like it. :P

Title: Dueling M-Minerva
Pairing: Harry/Minerva [*blink*] Just a hint of Harry/Ron.
Word Count: 2787
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Eh, Harry/Minerva? Post-Deathly Hallows
A/N: I know. I know! But this is for my fandom den mother

abigail89, and for Minerva, because if everyone else in canon gets a piece of Harry, she certainly deserves some of him, too!

Thanks to

mrsquizzical and

shocolate for the beta help!
*DPOL=Dirty Pervy Old Ladies

~^~

Minerva enjoyed this week of the term. Playing host to Harry Potter while he came to oversee the Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examinations.

In a castle of full of boys and old men, his presence caught the eye of most. Minerva wasn't immune to his allure either, though she hoped she hid the inclination better than most. Anyone who thought fantasizing was only for the young was sorely mistaken.

With him it wasn't the sex act, necessarily, that she thought of. It was simply him. It was the thought of undressing him and touching him. Indulging herself with the feel of his soft skin and hard muscle, stroking him like a cat.

Minerva repositioned the parchment in her hand, which she feigned reading so that she could continue admiring him without detection. He was a young man, true, but his maturity over the younger men in their seventh year was notable. Harry had a strong set to his jaw line that the younger ones lacked. A fully developed brow and sure and steady gait in his stride that made even the eldest boys in the school look like puppies as they clamored along next to him trying to earn his favor.

"Good morning, Pr-Minerva," Harry said, stumbling over the familiar use of her name. He bent to kiss her cheek and she greeted him as he took his seat next to her at the staff table for breakfast. "So, what have we today?" he asked, indicating the list of student names she held in her hand.

"This one, here," she pointed, "I'm rather fond of. The boy has talent but his emotions often derail his progress when he's under pressure."

Harry chuckled. "That sounds familiar enough. I see your soft spot is at least consistent," Harry teased.

"Well, it's softer for some than others," she said casually, sounding far more provocative than she'd intended.

She snapped her eyes shut trying control her infuriating blush, admonishing herself for letting the flirt slip out. Harry's delighted eyes lingered on her face for another moment before lowering to the parchment with a smirk.

When breakfast was over, he bent to kiss her cheek again and paused near her ear. She heard him take a slow intake of breath, before speaking in a low voice, "You smell lovely today."

She was going to respond with something about 'orchids' but what came out of her throat sounded like 'eh-rggh'. She couldn't remember the last time she lost her composure and just managed to muster her dignified expression while Harry walked away looking smug.

The moment tormented her for the rest of the day until he joined her for dinner in the Great Hall that evening.

The meal passed sociably enough, without any further faux pas on her part. Afterwards, he escorted her to her private chambers. She held his arm, which he so gentlemanly offered, and stroked the curve of his bicep with her free hand while they walked.

"And here we are," she said, once they reached the door flanked by Siamese jade statues setting on pedestals. "I can't express how much I've enjoyed your company this week." She wondered if flittering images from mentally undressing him all week reflected in her eyes.

"Me, too!" he readily agreed, also showing some reluctance. "I never have been very good at end-of-date things like this."

"How fortunate for you that you aren't on a date, then," she quipped, noting the way he chewed his lip.

"I'm actually only good at flying and dueling," he continued.

She was intrigued by his vague attempt to prolong their parting and assisted him.

"I never did take to flying myself."

Harry smirked.

"Oh, stop your smiling. I didn't say that I couldn't fly. Only that as a sport, it didn't interest me."

"Yes, of course." Harry nodded earnestly, which earned him a playful glare.

"I do, however, enjoy a good duel."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, and she smiled at his delight. "Would you like to duel?"

If only as a ploy to remain in his company a while longer, she agreed.

"We'll need plenty of space," she said upon entering the room, and waving her wand, the furnishings flattened and then affixed themselves onto the wall like a portrait of everything that normally occupied the space.

Harry looked from wall to wall at the items and then at her looking impressed.

"That's a good bit of Transfiguration."

"I should hope so," she answered, pleased by his reaction. "Are you really so surprised?"

"No. But I've no doubt you are capable of amazing me."

Harry's brow glistened with perspiration in the gleam of the candlelit lanterns floating in the air and he shrugged his robe off one shoulder, transferred his wand into the other hand and then tossed his robes into the corner.

"Wait," Harry said, moving closer when she reached for her fastenings. "Let me."

Minerva remained still while Harry walked behind her and slid her robes from her shoulders. His fingertips stroked over and down her shoulders as he did so and when she looked at his face he grinned and lowered his eyes.

"Thank you," she said, her voice softer now.

She watched shamelessly as he carefully hung her robe on the hook by the door, averting her eyes when he pressed a hand to his groin, clearly adjusting himself.

"Shall we begin?" he asked, turning back to face her, raising his wand.

"Indeed."

The moment her wand was raised, the cast and parry began in earnest. Harry's spells were stronger but they were short lived, while her spells slowly gained strength and outlasted his. More than once she stumbled and let a spell flare, knocking him backwards.

Every time he came back with a gleam in his eyes.

She felt a loose tendril of hair tickling her cheek and the floaty white blouse she wore was beginning to cling to her skin.

The tree she'd generated was ensnaring Harry with its vines, buying her a moment's respite before the foliage began yellowing, drying and then burst into dust, leaving a wild-eyed Harry on the floor.

"Wow," Harry muttered, taking deep breaths and looking up at her with wide, dark eyes. "You're spectacular."

"Flattery …" Minerva set her expression severely on him while gasping for breath. "Will not help you, Potter."

"It's not flattery," Harry said, pushing himself up to stand. "It's the truth. No one but Ron has put me on my arse like that in a long time."

"Flattery indeed," she sniffed, rolling her eyes.

"It's just such a bloody turn on!" he said with enthusiasm.

"Oh." It wasn't clear whose chest was heaving more. "Oh?"

"Don't you think so?" he asked, moving closer. His neck was sweaty and his collarbone was tempting her.

"I do believe I understand your meaning."

"I knew you'd get it. You like how it feels to really let go. To let all your magic pump out of you, getting hotter and stronger."

"Yes," she answered, noting a fluttering inside her chest, hoping it wasn't a coronary. Pumping. Hotter. "That is precisely how it feels."

"I …" He moved closer, looking into her eyes, then glancing down at her lips. "I think I … want to..."

"That would be inappropriate," she said weakly, even though she let her hand slide over his chest, feeling the tiny nub of his firm nipple through his shirt.

"I never have been a very good judge of 'appropriate'." His hand slipped around her waist. Her breath caught at the feel of a man's – a good looking and young man's – hands on her body. "I've seen how you look at me, Minerva …"

He was making this so difficult!

"Harry, I won't deny that my current age seems to mimic the rashness of youth, however –"

"No. I like it," he insisted, pulling her closer to his body.

She was touching his sides now, in spite of herself, feeling the cut of his ribs and the tug of his stomach muscles.

"There's nothing wrong with it, you know? I'm not a boy … not a student." His hand traveled to the small of her back, fingers brushing over the swell of her backside, his mouth so close to hers.

"I can quite see that for myself," she agreed, sliding her hand up the front of his torso and resting on his breastbone. "But while you are a magical sight for these eyes, I can not believe a young wizard like you has any real interest in an old tabby like me."

"My dear lady, you are a magnificent woman. A powerful witch. All of which, I find …" He leaned closer. "… Incredibly," She closed her eyes and held her breath. "… Sexy."

Then his lips were on hers and countless hours of fantasy and longing were suddenly made reality. She clutched his shoulder and the back of his neck, trying to breathe though her nose while their kiss continued.

When they broke apart, both exhaling a moan. She bent her head back while he ravished her neck.

"It's a wonder you manage at all when you duel with Mr. Weasley. How ever do you cope?"

Harry chuckled against her throat and then looked her in the eye. "I could tell you about that, but maybe I'll leave our coping mechanism up to your imagination."

She let out an effusive laugh and mentally thanked him for that image.

Harry glanced around the room before returning to kiss her behind the ear. "I want that one reanimated." He pointed to where her bed was depicted in a portrait.

She mentally admonished herself but complied, making the two-dimensional painting spring to life again.

The sudden awareness that the only standing furniture in the room was a bed only heightened their arousal. They clung to each other, fruitlessly pulling at clothing before resigning to remove their own. Undoing buttons down the front of her dress, together they pushed it off, leaving her in nothing but a thin chemise.

She surprised Harry by stepping back and sitting primly on the edge of the bed.

"Well, if a witch is going to burn, she might as well enjoy her offense."

Harry's expression went from wary confusion to blushing understanding, but to his credit – and her delight - he did not shy away.

Standing before her, he unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. Kicking away shoes and socks, he stood tall as he unbuttoned his trousers and let them fall to the floor. Minerva pursed her lips in prurient smile while she watched him strip off, openly appraising his leanly muscled chest, the slight curve of his hipbones and the smattering of black hair that drew her eye to his pinkest places.

Once he was completely bared to her, his projection of pride was belied by awkwardly scratching one elbow while his eyes cast about the room before returning to hers.

"I believe the word you used, Mr. Potter, was: wow."

He sniggered. "Er, thanks."

Following the instruction she gave him with a nod of her head, he climbed onto her bed, allowing her another opportunity to appreciate every curve and crevice of him. She joined him at his side, feeling an urgency to take him quickly, as though she might wake to find this having been yet another sleeping fantasy.

She conjured a phial of oil in the air above him, which poured out in a long, thin line onto his erection making him arch at the contact.

"'s warm," he hissed, his voice husky.

"Naturally," she replied, catching the final stream of oil in her cupped palm and as the crystal phial floated away, she climbed over Harry's thighs, taking his cock into her hand.

He let out a tiny, "ah," and pressed up into her hand, dissolving her last vestige of apprehension.

It had been a good stretch of time since she'd handled a man like this. She took her time admiring the complicated simplicity of non-magical biology. The tender flesh made impossibly firm by the infusion of blood, stimulated by arousal – one could only deduce – that he felt for her.

"You look like you're studying me, " Harry said, his hands reaching for her bent knees on either side of him.

"Never devalue the opportunity to observe and learn." She smirked as she spoke and ran a gentle fingertip over the tip of his cock, halting what reply he was about to make and he only nodded in agreement.

"M-Minerva," Harry whispered, swallowing. "Let me …"

She arched her eyebrow, hoping she wouldn't be disappointed to find him a selfish lover, though she really just wanted to devour him. "I want to make love to you. Make you feel good."

How very sweet of him to attempt genteel manners with her, while she was merely thinking about fucking him.

Raising herself onto her knees, she slid forward. Harry assisted by adjusting her chemise up her thighs but remained sensible enough to preserve her modesty.

"Oh, god," he sighed, as she slid down onto him. Once he was fully sheathed inside of her, she paused, relishing in the joining, in the beauty of the man beneath her. She leaned forward and braced her arms on either side of his shoulders and shifted her pelvis forward and then back, grinding a slow in and out between them.

Harry thrust upwards, hard, and the abrupt invasion was delicious.

"Do that again," she whispered.

"Absolutely," he muttered. Bending his knees to plant them on the bend, he curled his hands around her shoulders and began an earnest pace, taking her breath away with the perfect friction. It was wonderful, just watching him tense, hearing his puffs of breath and tiny grunts of strain, slowly losing himself.

In a whirlwind of movement, Harry flipped them over so that he was supported above her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed and giggled in spite of herself.

"What?" he asked, his hips slowing.

"I was just reminded of flying for sport," she mused. Who needs a Firebolt when you have a Harry Potter between your thighs?

She determined that having him on top was definitely preferable as he bent his head low to mouth her nipple through the sheer cloth of her underdress.

The movement of Harry's hips ceased and he lowered himself onto his elbows, trying to regain his breath. She took off his glasses, which they hadn't yet bothered with yet, and after setting them aside stroked his wild locks away from his face, admiring his flushed pink cheeks and the dark lashes framing his bright eyes.

"Are you always so gentle with your lovers?" she asked when he began slow, steady movements again.

He let out a quiet, guilty sounding chuckle. "Uhm, not … always."

"Please, don't hold back on my account."

"Whatever you wish, Professor," he answered.

Running her hand over his firm buttocks and up his back, she let her legs fall open and felt the sway of breasts as he firmly pressed into her again and again. She hadn't intended to bother trying to achieve orgasm and rather lie back to enjoy the vitality and magnificence of her partner, but she found her stubborn body reacting to the tiny grunts and groans of his efforts. She reached between them and surprised herself when her own breathless moan of pleasure rung out.

"G-Godric – yes!" Harry gasped, shifting to short, firm thrusts, allowing the access she needed.

The heat grew from her center out, teasing her in a slow spiral but gaining speed. She opened her eyes and looked up at Harry's face, his eyes were closed and brow furrowed in concentration. His pink lips formed an 'o' of pleasure as she tightened around his cock, and that was enough. Body, mind and libido converged and pleasure rippled through her.

"You beautiful boy!" she cried out, arching and shuddering beneath him.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Yeah?" he panted again, voice high and desperate.

"Yes, Harry." She clutched as he increased his pace. "Let go now, it's all right."

"Thank guh …" he garbled, and in an instant he let out a choked groan. She held him close and watched him joyously as he lost himself, trembling with the final spasm of climax into her and then collapsed in a beautiful, pitiful heap on top of her.

"Lovely. Just lovely," she muttered, comforting and petting him.

A plethora of her fantasies had come to fruition, and now lay in a sweaty, musky, boneless pile of wizard.

"M-Minerva?"

"Hmm?"

"Was that … are you … are we … ok?"

"I believe so, yes," she answered, happily.

Her only regret was not getting to taste him, but the week wasn't over yet.

~^~