Breakfast With The Headmaster

Disclaimer: None of the characters here belong to me, though since their behavior would likely give fits to their true owner and creator, J. K. Rowling, I don’t really think there’s much danger of anyone thinking differently. No monetary gain is sought.


Breakfast with the Headmaster


Snape opened the door to his storeroom very carefully. He was carrying the fruits of his previous night’s labors, three vials of a rather volatile potion that had taken far too long to produce. Now he had to find a nice safe place to store them where no one could accidentally pour them on parts of their body and suddenly discover to their shock and dismay that they’d maimed themselves for life.

As he peered around the room to figure out just where he should set up a permanent storage case, he was alarmed to find Peeves rifling through the stored vials on the narrow slotted shelves against the far wall.

When he heard Snape come into the room, the poltergeist quickly grasped a vial made of blood red glass and turned to flee. Since he’d have been courting disaster to have tried to stop Peeves before setting down his burden, Snape moved as quickly as he dared over to the small table that he’d set up near the door to hold whatever needed to be temporarily held, and set his fortunately flat bottomed vials down on its badly scarred surface. By the time he managed to turn back around though, Peeves was already out the door and into the corridor beyond giggling gustily all the while.

Naturally, Snape pursued. He’d recognized the vial that Peeves had stolen, and he knew that it was one that could have dire consequences for someone if he didn’t get it back…immediately. Not that he was entirely averse to causing dire consequences under the right circumstances; he just liked to be the one pulling the strings when he did.

The fleeing Poltergeist sped down through the corridors of the dungeon cackling merrily as he went. Tweaking the Potions master’s formidable nose was an early morning treat that he hadn’t anticipated, yet what was a little mayhem without an audience, after all? Things were proceeding swimmingly.

As he ducked into the kitchen, he heard the Potions master’s agitated steps echoing along the corridor in quick pursuit, so he made sure that he didn’t manage to disappear behind the fruit bowl before being observed to do so. Peeves would have hated to lose the only person who knew what he was up to before he could quite manage to get up to it. Sometimes in jokes worked ever so much better than those played strictly on the clueless.

When Snape burst into the kitchen, a scene of what seemed like mass confusion greeted his eyes, but he quickly realized that it was really very carefully organized chaos. All the tables in the room were laden to overflowing with food and drink, and as he watched with horrified eyes, the surrounding elves all raised their hands, and the victuals vanished, having now been transported to their intended destination, the tables in the Great Hall above their heads. Where the feeding frenzy known as breakfast was obviously about to get underway. Was he too late?

Snape grabbed the first elf he could lay his hands on and dragged the small creature much closer than it wanted to be, badly wrinkling its freshly ironed tea towel in the process.

“Where’s Peeves?” he snarled unceremoniously. “Where did he put it?”

The terrified elf’s eyes bugged out so much that he was in danger of losing them, and he squeaked weakly and simply quaked in terror, much too scared to give an answer.

With a growl, Snape cast him aside and turned to the rest of the elves who were all staring at him with various levels of fear and confusion on their homely little round faces.

Before he could utter his question a second time, they all raised their hands and pointed them at the ceiling.

“He flew off that way, sir,” exclaimed one of the braver elves.

Addressing himself to the only elf who seemed to have vocal cords, Snape tried again. “What did he do before he flew off? He had a glass vial that he stole from me, and it’s imperative that I get it back immediately.”

Another voice from behind him answered, “Is this what you are looking for Professor Snape, sir?”

Turning quickly toward the voice that promised salvation, Snape found Dobby, whom he recognized because he alone amongst the elves was dressed in such a ridiculously Muggle manner, holding out a vial of ruby glass. Snatching the vial from the elf’s hands, the Potions master was dismayed, though not really surprised, to discover that it was now empty, and it wasn’t all that difficult to figure out where its contents probably went.

As Snape turned back to look at the currently empty tables that had held the now likely tainted food, he heard his suspicions confirmed by Dobby’s cheery voice. “Peeves flew in here just as we put the last of the breakfast food out and were about to send it on its way upstairs, Professor Snape. He laughed and flew around over our heads which wasn’t very helpful, of course, sir, but what were we to do about it?”

“Did he sprinkle the contents of this vial on the food? This is very important.” Snape looked around at all the little watching faces, but none of the elves seemed to be able to give him an answer.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” he exclaimed in disgust. “I suppose I’ll just have to go and see for myself.” With that pronouncement, he turned angrily on his heel and swept out of the kitchen, heading off towards the dining room at a rapid pace.

As he approached the Great Hall, Snape found himself slowing his steps. If that fool poltergeist had dropped the contents of that vial into the students’ food, then there was no telling what sort of chaos he’d be walking in on when he entered the hall.

That particular vial used to hold one of the more powerful “Potions of Allure” that he’d ever concocted. Not that he wasted his time concocting many of them, but one never knew when something might come in handy, and fortunately, lust potions lasted quite well if you stored them in colored glass containers. A necessity, since daylight robbed them of their potency …rather like vampires.

Most people would have labeled the potion in question a love potion, he supposed, but Snape was no romantic. Though he did have sense enough to realize that you really couldn’t bottle what you couldn’t define and, romantic or not, he was pretty sure that love didn’t come from a bottle. Not that he knew where you did find it or cared all that much to try to figure it out.

Still, whatever you called it, such a potion would turn a room full of hormonal teenagers into an orgy in no time flat. If Peeves had dumped that potion into the student’s food and drink, the last place that any sane person would want to be was in the same room with them.

Having reached his goal at last, Snape drew in a deep breath and eased open the door to the Hall to peek inside. He frowned at the quiet normalcy that confronted him, and he opened the door wider and stepped into the room. The long tables were spottily filled with students desultorily eating their breakfasts and trying not to yawn, just like on any Saturday morning of term. A fair number of the faculty sat at the head table talking quietly, wasting their time reading the Daily Prophet or simply eating and staring off into space. There was definitely no mass chaos to be seen…mass boredom, perhaps.

As Snape was trying to figure out why no one was lusting after anyone else, a small respectful voice interrupted his train of thought from down around his waist. He looked down to see the small figure of Dobby standing next to him wringing his hands and looking worried.

With a frown, the Potions master cocked his head. “Yes?”

“When Professor Snape asked us if Peeves had poured the contents of that vial onto the breakfast foods, Winky had gone into the storeroom and didn’t hear the question, sir.”

“And this matters, why?” asked Snape, somehow certain that he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Because when Peeves was flying around and laughing at us, she was fixing a special tray to go up to the Headmaster’s rooms for breakfast, sir, you see,” the elf patiently explained.

With a sinking heart, Snape suddenly saw where this conversation was going and was chagrined to discover that he’d been quite right. He didn’t like it at all, but to his credit, he pursued it gamely anyway.

“Are you trying to tell me that Peeves poured that potion on the contents of the breakfast tray that was then sent up to the Headmaster’s suite?”

Dobby nodded nervously. “Yes, sir, that is exactly what Dobby was about to say, sir. Yes, indeed.”

Snape took another breath and thought about that for a moment, then ventured another question in a soft voice. “You don’t happen to know if the Headmaster was dining alone today, do you?”

“He did ask for breakfast for three, Professor Snape, sir,” said Dobby cautiously.

“Three…” murmured Snape. Then he turned away from Dobby to peruse the head table, looking for empty chairs. When he thought he’d figured out who Dumbledore’s likely companions were, a slow smile crept across his lips and he mused to himself, “Too bad Peeves didn’t grab a vial of Potency potion to add to the mix. No doubt by now, Albus will be feeling its lack.”

To his surprise, a polite little voice inquired, “Would Professor Snape like Dobby to bring it to the Headmaster?”

******************************************************

Albus Dumbledore sighed lustily and closed his eyes. A pair of warm hands spread themselves across his sensitive skin running gentle fingers through the wiry white hairs of his chest, stroking lightly and bringing tingles of ecstasy with their every touch. Another pair of attentive hands combed through his snowy hair letting the long, loose strands slip gently through supple fingers and fan out across the deep burgundy pattern of the lush Oriental rug on which they lay.

He turned his face to the side so he could feel the brush of his cheek against the full ripe softness of the ample bosom, which his head rested on so comfortably. While the owner of that heavenly pillow pressed hot kisses against his hair and ran gentle hands down the expanse of his neck to caress the sensitive hollows at its base; the owner of that other pair of questing hands opened the top of his silk pajamas and slid the two halves to the sides of his lean chest as she bent down and teased first one nipple then the other with her tongue, allowing the nipples of her own full breasts to brush tantalizingly against the taut muscles of his stomach at the same time.

Soft black hair caressed his chest as her warm moist mouth kissed and toyed with his nipples for a moment longer before gliding down along his ribcage, causing a light tickling sensation that made him jump slightly. A slender finger slid beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms and slowly ran along its length, teasingly threatening to pull the loose cloth away from his skin at any moment.

He groaned with delight as his lovely Healer ran her gentle hand down his face and turned his lips to hers for a long passion filled kiss, definitely healing whatever might ail him. While the teasing fingers of his Deputy Headmistress slid the bottom of his pajamas down his long legs with a whisper of silk against skin, freeing his hard straining erection from its red and gold confinement so that she could prove beyond any doubt that she could drop the word deputy from her title.

The elder wizard’s cock jumped and twitched as Minerva’s lips slid along its sensitive skin and her tongue lavished warm circles up and down its length before taking him into her mouth and drawing him deeply in. He groaned out his pleasure and lifted a hand to caress Poppy’s bosom while taking first one tempting nipple and then the other into his own mouth to suck on them with deep desire while she sighed in contentment and held him close.

As he neared his climax, his dark haired lover released him from her mouth and moved to straddle his angular, wiry body with her own more supple form. While Poppy continued to caress and kiss him avidly, Minerva lowered herself ever so slowly down onto him, letting him slide deeply into her body and moaning out her own need with a low, aching sound.

Albus took a deep, shattering breath and began to move within her, matching the rhythm that she set. They moved faster and faster until he came in a fountain of liquid heat, continuing on beyond the crest until she joined him in her own ecstatic release. As the two of them lay together gasping for breath and enjoying the cool caressing fingers of the faint breeze from the open window on their damp skin, Poppy slid her hand lightly along Albus cheek and bent to kiss it softly, whispering in his ear with a faint tone of disappointment, “I don’t suppose there’s much likelihood that I’ll get my turn right away.”

Albus smiled and bringing her hand to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss on its palm. “I’m afraid that a rather lengthy break may be needed, my dear.”

Suddenly, the quiet sound of breathing and the faint whisper of skin sliding on skin was broken by a small, unexpected voice. All three humans turned swiftly towards the intruder and found a very red faced Dobby with one small hand pressed across his tightly closed eyes while holding out a vial filled with a creamy white liquid in the other.

“With Professor Snape’s compliments, Headmaster, sir,” he squeaked.

With a delighted smile, the Headmaster sat up and took the vial from the embarrassed house-elf’s hand, recognizing its contents immediately. “Thank you, Dobby. The very thing. Extend my…our…thanks to Professor Snape, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir, Dobby will, sir,” exclaimed the elf, relieved to have completed his mission successfully.

As the elf vanished, the Headmaster uncorked the vial and quickly drank down its contents, reveling in the strength and vigor that flowed through his body like a ripple of building thunder in a roiling sky. Turning back to the watching ladies, he reached out and caressed Poppy’s cheek as he drew her closer, slipping an arm around Minerva as well. “Thanks to Severus, it appears that there’s no longer any reason to delay. Shall we begin again, ladies?” He was answered with identical smiles.