Silver Haired Fox

She is awake before I am and I hear the water running in the shower. Only the whole room seems hazy and I find my limbs to be incredibly heavy as I pull myself from her bed. The room looks different, but I yawn and shrug it off. Footsteps of stone lead me into the bathroom and I nearly slip on the floor, something silky beneath my feet. Her robe most likely, but as I take another step across what should be the white tiled floor, I feel that silk again. My eyes turn down and I nearly shriek. Piles and piles of long, golden, silky strands of her hair are everywhere. I cannot see an inch of white tile. More hair rests in the basin of the sink, a pair of scissors atop it and I rush to the shower, throwing back the glass door, which is fogged with steam. “Minerva!”

She is pressed against the wall, legs parted, the brunette girl on her knees, licking my lover, and her hair is shorn, short and severe, much shorter than mine. I try to reach forward, to yank the girl away and I scream out, feeling hands on my own body, only it isn’t hands, its Minerva’s hair, rising up from the floor and tangling around my torso. I cannot escape its silken clutches and I thrash about, screaming though no sound comes out.

“Rolanda! Rolanda!” Minerva’s lips are on my cheeks and my eyes fly open. “Love?” she clutches both of my shoulders as I shoot up from her bed, panting, sweating, and my eyes dart around the room. “Love, what’s wrong? Calm down, it was only a dream…you were screaming…”

I close my eyes but then open them and gaze at her. A waterfall of hair has been loosely tied at the nape of her neck, flowing down over her shoulder and I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Thank the gods it was only a dream. I pull her down onto my chest and free her hair, stroking my fingers through it as I kiss her forehead. “It was a nightmare…” I whisper.

“It’s alright, love,” she whispers to me. “I’m here now, it’s alright…”

I nod, and am very careful not to let my overworking emotions show on my face. “Don’t ever go chopping your hair off, alright, love?” I whisper. I don’t add that I don’t wish her to go cheating on me either, but I know better. Minerva is my lover, she has loved me for ages, and nothing can change that.

She runs her hands over my head and then she places kisses against my cheeks, my nose, and my lips. “I am sorry I gave you a fright last night, Ronnie,” she teases, and I smile, she seems more herself this morning. “The more I thought about it, the more devastated I realized I’d be…I do love my hair, and I do love you playing with it, washing it, and brushing it,” she leans back onto the bed and then eyes me. “You did promise me, however,” and I watch her lips curl into a bright smile. “I do think it needs brushing this morning…”

I’m all too happy to oblige as she gets out of the bed, naked, and walks into the bathroom, taking a seat at her vanity stool. Her long handled paddle brush is resting on the vanity top, just beside it the small pair of golden styling scissors that she has me trim her ends with every few weeks. I come to stand behind her, and tuck the scissors into the drawer, not wanting to stare at their menacing glint. Picking up the brush I slowly begin to stroke it through her hair, and she smiles. I love brushing her hair, she always lulls back into an almost peaceful trance when I do.

What seems like hours later, though I don’t mind, I have plaited her hair. It is one long, thick braided rope that hangs down her back nearly at her ankles, not a single strand out of place. How she ever charms it to stay up in that taught little bun all day, I’ll never know. We dress but not without our playful caresses and she frowns. “Long day today…” she mutters. “Breakfast, love?”

“Yes, I think so, though I’ve not long for it, Quidditch practice in an hour.”

“We should meet for dinner at six, just come up to my office, I should be done by then, yes?” she steals a kiss as I exit her chambers into her office. “Oh, good morning,” she says and I turn around, eyes frowning to see the girl in the chair. “Did we have a meeting that I’ve misplaced in my mind, Miss Granger?” My lover asks her.

“No, Professor, I was coming to give you the weekly report and to give you a list of students that will be in the infirmary today due to…” the girl flushes. “Excessive partying over Gryffindor’s triumph last night.”

“Why thank you, Miss Granger,” Min smiles at her. “Would you perhaps care to join me for breakfast? We could discuss it there.”

I don’t know what it is about the brunette that sets my blood a boil, but I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her, and I shouldn’t have any reason not to. Other than the fact that Minerva is with her all the time and I keep having disturbing dreams that she’s aiding my woman in cheating on me. As they side step the desk and head for the door, I am nearly forgotten, but I grab Minerva’s shoulder, pulling her back.

“Dinner still at six?” I ask, and the younger girl gazes at me with curious eyes. Minerva nods with a smile. What I do next is foolish, but I feel insecure. I wrap her close, and she doesn’t see it coming, my lips crushing to hers and I arch myself against her, my tongue deep in her mouth and I pull away, leaving her flushed and stunned. “Sorry about keeping you up so late last night,” I wink. “See you tonight. Pardon me, Miss Granger,” and I slip past the girl, out into the corridor.

~*~

I am walking down the corridor, Quidditch practice has been rough. I need to have a word with Albus about posting the pitch sign-up sheets in the main entryway near the house points tabulator, as well as the time table for when the pitch is booked. Sometimes even I have trouble remembering and double book, which usually isn’t a problem unless it’s Slytherin. Today it was Slytherin.
I am hungry but I have a while before dinner. I’ve just missed lunch, though I suppose I could have the house elves cook up something and it isn’t as if I don’t know where the kitchen is. But I decide that a healthy appetite for dinner is best, and forego the food. My wrist is grabbed and I am tugged to the side by a very foul looking Minerva. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve lost your mind is all,” she says tersely and drags me up the corridor to the first classroom she comes to. I am practically forced through the door, she hasn’t handled me this roughly in a while. Somehow I don’t think she’s in the mood to play games. “What exactly were you trying to do?”

“Well I was trying to go up to my rooms and relax, but you grabbed hold of—”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She is practically murderous. I haven’t seen her this angry in ages. I’m pretty sure I don’t want her to be this angry, especially not when the target is me, but compared to recently, it’s better to have her feeling something and respond passionately to something, I suppose. I get myself lost quickly in her eyes, even though they’re shooting darts at me. “Rolanda!”

“What?” I turn my eyes away. She can be almost frightening when she’s angry.

“That little display in front of Hermione, what on earth were you thinking?”

Great, she’s calling the twit by her first name, in front of me. Of course, I can’t really complain about that, so I take the girlish method, a far stretch for me, I know, but I play dumb. “Minerva I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“That bloody kiss!”

“Oh,” I try to look away again, but she’s practically fuming and I swear I see smoke coming from her ears.

“What on earth did you do that for? Have you lost your mind?”

I can’t tell her why I really kissed her, full on the mouth, almost raunchily, in front of our Head Girl. If I tell her I did it because I’m jealous and partially frightened that I’m losing her to a seventeen-year-old witch she really will think I’ve lost my mind. So I lie. “You trust her, don’t you? Who’s she going to tell, Min?” I try to sound as if it just happened, as if I couldn’t control myself and had no idea what came over me. “I mean you seem close with her, so I expect her to understand us…” That was probably not the right thing to say, I don’t want to lead on and make her suspicious of the fact that I’m suspicious. “Your lips just looked so damn hot, Min, I honestly forgot she was there.” I pout. She buys it.

“You cannot do that, Rolanda. My job, your job, Merlin, woman, our whole life would—”

I cover her lips with mine, kicking my foot back against the ground and I lean up against her. “I’m sorry, I just lost my head, but she is trustworthy. She’s intelligent, and besides she’s a Gryffindor not a Slytherin, we’ll be alright.” I assure her, dancing my fingers on her shoulders.

She narrows her eyes at me, but behind those spectacles all I can see are dancing orbs, trying to decide if she’s still mad at me. A moment passes and she gives me a small nod. “Maybe I’m over reacting,” she says.

“Maybe? You like to take my head off, Min,” I say.

“Sorry, Ronnie,” she whispers and looks down. That’s more like it. Ronnie is for when I’m not in trouble, when we’re intimate, and when she’s not being too serious. My lips smile and I lean forward to kiss her. “Knock it off,” she says.

“Where do you have to be right now?” I ask her. She hesitates for a second too long. I know my lover. If she has somewhere to be it flows right off the tip of her tongue, no pause, no breath, just comes. She’s fudging in her mind, searching for an excuse. I quirk a brow up onto my forehead and then I smirk. “Right then,” and my lips cover hers again.

“Stop, Ronnie!” she tries to push me off, but I quickly back her against the wall. “Dear Gods, at least let’s take it back to your room.”

“Your room is closer,” I counter with a wink.

“I don’t care just not here!”

“What’s a little risk to increase our fun?” I tease, and buck my hips against hers. I can see in her eyes that she wants to pull away, but I feel her hips making the decision for her as she presses against me.

“Our fun will be nil if neither one of us have a job, Rolanda.” There she goes again. I roll my eyes. Her hand comes to rest over my chest. “You’ve got somewhere to be?” I shake my head no. I can have words with the headmaster another time. I feel like a randy school girl, sneaking off to an abandoned classroom to have a raunchy encounter with my girlfriend. And she was the one that dragged me in. I don’t say that, afraid that it might upset the delicate balance that she seems to be teetering on at the moment.

“Just ward the door,” I mutter and then press my lips to hers. She cannot hold out for long, giving in and parting her lips with a moan. “Oh, there you are,” I say playfully. Her hands are in my hair before I can even begin to kiss her properly again. At least I’ll get to work out some of the tension from supervising practice earlier, and with that thought I pin her harder back to the wall and start seeking out the pins at the base of her neck.

“No,” she pants.

“But—”

“No. It’ll take too bloody long to put back up and I’ve not time for it,” and before I can protest again, she grabs my shoulders and knocks me back. I’m not expecting it, so naturally I stumble, lose my balance and before I’m able to catch myself or even have an attempt at a graceful recovery, I’m on my arse. She’s on top of me lightening quick, and her hands are routing into my robes. This is perfect, just the way I like it. Maybe that kiss turned her on earlier, and maybe I’m being ridiculous about this whole Hermione Granger bit. All of my thoughts of ridiculousness flee my mind when I feel her hands making contact with my skin and I cannot help but moan. It’s going to be a good afternoon.