Single Magical Male
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
11,462
Reviews:
77
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
11,462
Reviews:
77
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Ladies Night
Dedicated to my über-Beta Peeves, my friends at Hogwarts Undead Inc., and Barrie who has more talent than she needs (can I have some? ohpleasepleasepleaseplease)
None of these characters exist in reality. None of the characters who exist in fiction are mine. No money, disrespect orcopyright infringement is being made or intended. This is just my pathetic cry for help.
One would think that after all these years Albus Dumbledore would have put a stop to it. Nothing good ever came from these monthly gatherings, and a number of notably bad – or at least, embarrassing – things had resulted. Of course, Madam Pince might have been thinking these things because she was never invited to join in, but she’d never admit that. She sighed at the latest burst of raucous laughter coming from a dark corner table at the Three Broomsticks and continued to sip her mead. She bemoaned the coincidence that found her seated at the bar too close to the corner table in question to be able to completely ignore the group. ‘Really,’ she thought, ‘they could at least learn to hold their liquor. They get enough practice! Minerva and her Gillywater…’
Minerva McGonagall was not the only member of the corner table club; Pomona Sprout and Poppy Pomfrey joined the Head of Gryffindor on the third Friday of each month for their “meetings”. They referred to these outings as professional debriefings but the rest of the Hogwarts staff knew it was nothing but a girls’ night out. The only “debriefing” ever done was the speculative and usually highly inappropriate verbal de-pantsing of the men they knew. The topic of interest this late September evening was a certain tall,
dark and brooding Potions Master.
“I would have bet my last Knut that once Voldemort was gone, he’d have emerged as Hogwarts’ playboy,” grumbled Professor Sprout, “but he’s even crankier than he was before.”
“Oh, and I would’ve been happy to celebrate with that one,” cackled Poppy. “I’ve told you before – I can confirm the rumours about men with large, er, features.” Sprout giggled and sighed, “What a waste, keeping all that to himself!”
“Any possibility that he might, you know, swing the other way?” Poppy wondered aloud. A second passed, then in unison the three shouted, “NO!” Hoots of laughter spilled from their table. The ladspenspent the next several minutes sharing well-worn stories of how they came to find out that certain among their friends and co-workers preferred to live alternate lifestyles.
After another round of drinks, the conversation drifted back to Severus Snape. Minerva was thoughtful for a moment, and then said, “You know, I’ve often wondered if Severus isolates himself because he doesn’t know how to go about meeting people.” Sprout and Pomfrey nearly choked on their cocktails. “No, I mean it,” Minerva chided. “The only ‘socializing’ he’s done in the past 20 years has been restricted to either Hogwarts or Death Eater functions. Hogwarts is hardly the place to find a date for a 40-year old man, and, well, the other….” she ended with a shiver of distaste.
“Oh, come off it Minerva.” Sprout said impatiently. “It’s not like there aren’t opportunities out there. He goes to Hogsmeade. He goes to London. He’s even gone to a few potions conventions on the continent. He’s a smart man and he’s not that bad to look at when he cleans himself up. If he wanted to make a ‘luv connection’, he could do that any time.”
“You know, Pomona, I think Minerva’s on to something,” countered Poppy. “I don’t think he knows how to go about meeting a woman. Or a man, for that matter.” she whispered.
“So what do we do, deliver some fair maiden to his room, wrapped in nothing but a bow, along with instructions?” suggested the
Herbology professor. The witches lapsed into another fit of giggles.
It was getting late and Tom announced last call to the few patrons left in the room. The women paid their tab and made their way back to Hogwarts. The air was crisp with the promise of frost, but the women were warm as their trip home was spent laughing at the image of the dour Potions Master in a singles’ club, trying out lines like “Are you lost? I’ve never seen an angel so far from Heaven,” “You’re under arrest for stealing my heart” or the classic “If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?”
During the next few weeks, Minerva thought more about the conversation of that evening. As prickly as he might be, Severus held a special place in her heart and not just because of his work for the Order or his close relationship to Albus. She genuinely cared for Snape.
Over the years, she’d come to appreciate his quick wit. She cringed when that wit degenerated into biting sarcasm – or worse – but it had been years since she’d been on the receiving end of one of his truly mean-spirited jibes. She had come to relish the teasing banter that now characterized their conversations.
She was continually amazed to discover his surprisingly wide range of interests. As one would expect from a Master in his field, he maintained an expertise in Potions and regularly contributed research articles to the leading industry publications. Unusual for an established Wizard, however, was that his research routinely drew from and deftly incorporated other disciplines including both Wizard and Muggle sciences. He actively studied Arithmancy, Biology, Chemistry, Herbology, Physics, and Transfiguration, looking for refinements to existing potions (like the Wolfsbane tonic he improved and provided for Lupin), or seeking new means to prevent or treat such things as Unforgivable curses. His appetite for knowledge was insatiable and he seemed able to study tirelessly.
The Snapes were an old and wealthy family. As one mightect ect with such a family, he had been taught to recognize and appreciate the world’s finest cuisine, music, and literature. It was his own drive, however, that led him to become a connoisseur of these areas. His library was vast, including both Wizard and Muggle works. One might expect some of the works, such as three rare editions of Moste Potente Potions, and complete collections of Shakespeare and Milton, but his varied collection also included
works by Virginia Wolfe, Herman Melville, and Tom Clancy. He loved classical Muggle music and – oddly enough – the art-rock English bands of the late 1970s.
The risks he took in helping the Order had been far above and beyond the sacrifices most would have been willing to make. She couldn’t begin to imagine the physical suffering he’d experienced, not to mention the emotional pain and isolation that went along with being a Death Eater. Acting as a double-agent had increased his loneliness and the danger he faced exponentially. As important as the victory over Voldemort had been for the Wizarding world, McGonagall had privately rejoiced that her friend could now live a more normal life.
Finally, and most importantly to Minerva, was his work at Hogwarts. While his teaching methods would never endear him to his students, there was no question that he cared deeply about both the subject matter and the students he taught. Oh, the students would never believe that Snape felt anything other than utter contempt for them, but she knew that he followed the progress of each of his students closely during their education and, in many cases, tracked their exploits once they’d graduated to life beyond
Hogwarts’ stone walls.
He had been instrumental in securing scholarships for a large number of deserving students who lacked the financial wherewithal to attend University, and he had written untold letters of recommendation for other students seeking employment. His letters weren’t the flowery, effusive dross that so many other professors churned out mindlessly; each was carefully considered, reflecting an honest assessment of the given student’s strengths. And like so much else in his life, Severus Snape had done all this in secret. To McGonagall’s knowledge, no student had ever seen the contents of a Snape-authored letter or discovered just who had been so instrumental in ensuring that a given scholarship was awarded.
Severus Snapentrantrary to all appearances and opinion, was a deeply caring, passionate man. And Minerva McGonagall decided that she was going to make sure he found a woman who would care for him as deeply and as passionately. Her mind made up, she took out a piece of parchment and began to write.
None of these characters exist in reality. None of the characters who exist in fiction are mine. No money, disrespect orcopyright infringement is being made or intended. This is just my pathetic cry for help.
One would think that after all these years Albus Dumbledore would have put a stop to it. Nothing good ever came from these monthly gatherings, and a number of notably bad – or at least, embarrassing – things had resulted. Of course, Madam Pince might have been thinking these things because she was never invited to join in, but she’d never admit that. She sighed at the latest burst of raucous laughter coming from a dark corner table at the Three Broomsticks and continued to sip her mead. She bemoaned the coincidence that found her seated at the bar too close to the corner table in question to be able to completely ignore the group. ‘Really,’ she thought, ‘they could at least learn to hold their liquor. They get enough practice! Minerva and her Gillywater…’
Minerva McGonagall was not the only member of the corner table club; Pomona Sprout and Poppy Pomfrey joined the Head of Gryffindor on the third Friday of each month for their “meetings”. They referred to these outings as professional debriefings but the rest of the Hogwarts staff knew it was nothing but a girls’ night out. The only “debriefing” ever done was the speculative and usually highly inappropriate verbal de-pantsing of the men they knew. The topic of interest this late September evening was a certain tall,
dark and brooding Potions Master.
“I would have bet my last Knut that once Voldemort was gone, he’d have emerged as Hogwarts’ playboy,” grumbled Professor Sprout, “but he’s even crankier than he was before.”
“Oh, and I would’ve been happy to celebrate with that one,” cackled Poppy. “I’ve told you before – I can confirm the rumours about men with large, er, features.” Sprout giggled and sighed, “What a waste, keeping all that to himself!”
“Any possibility that he might, you know, swing the other way?” Poppy wondered aloud. A second passed, then in unison the three shouted, “NO!” Hoots of laughter spilled from their table. The ladspenspent the next several minutes sharing well-worn stories of how they came to find out that certain among their friends and co-workers preferred to live alternate lifestyles.
After another round of drinks, the conversation drifted back to Severus Snape. Minerva was thoughtful for a moment, and then said, “You know, I’ve often wondered if Severus isolates himself because he doesn’t know how to go about meeting people.” Sprout and Pomfrey nearly choked on their cocktails. “No, I mean it,” Minerva chided. “The only ‘socializing’ he’s done in the past 20 years has been restricted to either Hogwarts or Death Eater functions. Hogwarts is hardly the place to find a date for a 40-year old man, and, well, the other….” she ended with a shiver of distaste.
“Oh, come off it Minerva.” Sprout said impatiently. “It’s not like there aren’t opportunities out there. He goes to Hogsmeade. He goes to London. He’s even gone to a few potions conventions on the continent. He’s a smart man and he’s not that bad to look at when he cleans himself up. If he wanted to make a ‘luv connection’, he could do that any time.”
“You know, Pomona, I think Minerva’s on to something,” countered Poppy. “I don’t think he knows how to go about meeting a woman. Or a man, for that matter.” she whispered.
“So what do we do, deliver some fair maiden to his room, wrapped in nothing but a bow, along with instructions?” suggested the
Herbology professor. The witches lapsed into another fit of giggles.
It was getting late and Tom announced last call to the few patrons left in the room. The women paid their tab and made their way back to Hogwarts. The air was crisp with the promise of frost, but the women were warm as their trip home was spent laughing at the image of the dour Potions Master in a singles’ club, trying out lines like “Are you lost? I’ve never seen an angel so far from Heaven,” “You’re under arrest for stealing my heart” or the classic “If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?”
During the next few weeks, Minerva thought more about the conversation of that evening. As prickly as he might be, Severus held a special place in her heart and not just because of his work for the Order or his close relationship to Albus. She genuinely cared for Snape.
Over the years, she’d come to appreciate his quick wit. She cringed when that wit degenerated into biting sarcasm – or worse – but it had been years since she’d been on the receiving end of one of his truly mean-spirited jibes. She had come to relish the teasing banter that now characterized their conversations.
She was continually amazed to discover his surprisingly wide range of interests. As one would expect from a Master in his field, he maintained an expertise in Potions and regularly contributed research articles to the leading industry publications. Unusual for an established Wizard, however, was that his research routinely drew from and deftly incorporated other disciplines including both Wizard and Muggle sciences. He actively studied Arithmancy, Biology, Chemistry, Herbology, Physics, and Transfiguration, looking for refinements to existing potions (like the Wolfsbane tonic he improved and provided for Lupin), or seeking new means to prevent or treat such things as Unforgivable curses. His appetite for knowledge was insatiable and he seemed able to study tirelessly.
The Snapes were an old and wealthy family. As one mightect ect with such a family, he had been taught to recognize and appreciate the world’s finest cuisine, music, and literature. It was his own drive, however, that led him to become a connoisseur of these areas. His library was vast, including both Wizard and Muggle works. One might expect some of the works, such as three rare editions of Moste Potente Potions, and complete collections of Shakespeare and Milton, but his varied collection also included
works by Virginia Wolfe, Herman Melville, and Tom Clancy. He loved classical Muggle music and – oddly enough – the art-rock English bands of the late 1970s.
The risks he took in helping the Order had been far above and beyond the sacrifices most would have been willing to make. She couldn’t begin to imagine the physical suffering he’d experienced, not to mention the emotional pain and isolation that went along with being a Death Eater. Acting as a double-agent had increased his loneliness and the danger he faced exponentially. As important as the victory over Voldemort had been for the Wizarding world, McGonagall had privately rejoiced that her friend could now live a more normal life.
Finally, and most importantly to Minerva, was his work at Hogwarts. While his teaching methods would never endear him to his students, there was no question that he cared deeply about both the subject matter and the students he taught. Oh, the students would never believe that Snape felt anything other than utter contempt for them, but she knew that he followed the progress of each of his students closely during their education and, in many cases, tracked their exploits once they’d graduated to life beyond
Hogwarts’ stone walls.
He had been instrumental in securing scholarships for a large number of deserving students who lacked the financial wherewithal to attend University, and he had written untold letters of recommendation for other students seeking employment. His letters weren’t the flowery, effusive dross that so many other professors churned out mindlessly; each was carefully considered, reflecting an honest assessment of the given student’s strengths. And like so much else in his life, Severus Snape had done all this in secret. To McGonagall’s knowledge, no student had ever seen the contents of a Snape-authored letter or discovered just who had been so instrumental in ensuring that a given scholarship was awarded.
Severus Snapentrantrary to all appearances and opinion, was a deeply caring, passionate man. And Minerva McGonagall decided that she was going to make sure he found a woman who would care for him as deeply and as passionately. Her mind made up, she took out a piece of parchment and began to write.