Coward

Chapter 3

The ache between her still sticky legs reminded Minerva of how the night before had ended, and of how much time had passed since her last sexual encounter. She had never been that kind of woman that had herself tied to a man prior to reaching a certain age, only to get into a pattern which lead to believe being intimate with the other was a duty. No, she had never been shy of wanting intimacy and making it known to her lovers – not that she had had so many. In any case it must have been nearly decades since she had seen herself in the mirror and had considered her reflection remotely attractive – even longer since another had said just that to her… even longer since someone had physically expressed it in bed with her.

She shifted once more and sat, letting her head lean against the headboard heavily in thought. She could not get her thoughts together on how and maybe especially why then Severus Snape, one of her former pupils, colleague… had fucked her the night before. Why all of a sudden an air of… longing maybe, had filled the little office and had not let either of them go without having given into it… as if a vast yet invisible bell held him and her there until consummation.

Never had there been a kind of tension between them that possibly hinted to something sexual underneath. She had never even dared to consider him as sexually interesting… until the night before.

She did not see him that morning in the Great Hall, nor the rest of the day… until she threw herself between him and Potter, anger rising… anger because she had never been so confused with anyone – for not being able to get a damn of him or his loyalty, his feelings or his thoughts, until after his death.