Fic for miss_morland
Author: scarysnapey
Recipient: miss_morland
Title: And the Lies, Well, He Clutched Them Close to His Heart
Pairing: Gilderoy Lockhart/Severus Snape
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2359
Summary: Minerva McGonagall has a keen eye for love, though it sometimes shows
itself in the most unlikely of places. But when she gets involved with the love lives of others, she might end up with a broken heart of her own.
Author's Notes: This was insanely fun to write. I struggled with the pairing at first because I wanted to make the relationship believable, but Minerva’s eyes were lovely to write through, and my amazing/supportive/wondrous beta D is much loved for her help.
Were Minerva not a teacher, her life would be incredibly boring.
This morning, Wilhelmina had spotted Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater sharing a
chaste kiss outside the Gryffindor common room. As a result, Minerva’s pocket was ten
galleons heavier, and Wilhelmina’s ten galleons lighter.
The problem with this, however, was that with her bet successfully won, there really was
not much else to do. She and Madame Hooch had already decided that it was in poor taste
to bet on the love lives of twelve year olds; otherwise, Minerva would have had twenty
galleons on Hermione Granger choosing Ronald Weasley.
Make that fifty.
You see, Minerva McGonagall simply had a feeling about these things, and she was
never wrong. She had even cheated a few galleons out of Albus’s pockets. Despite his
abilities in Legilimency, his soft heart often led him astray. With her keen, calculating
eyes, Minerva was never, ever wrong.
But with no relationships to bet on, she was left grading papers in the staff room.
Once again, were Minerva not a teacher, her life would be incredibly boring.
She had already marked a great, red ‘X’ across young Mr. Weasley’s paper. She shook
her head, humming quietly. First essay of the year and the boy had copied a full foot and
a half of Hermione Granger’s paper. And Miss Granger had let him. Minerva shook her
head.
How love makes us blind.
Minerva scanned the few lines that had spouted themselves from Mr. Weasley’s own
mind. There was a particularly well-phrased and accurate paragraph, and she grinned
proudly while reading it.
Satisfied smile on her face, Minerva brought her quill to the parchment and scribbled
some hasty praise. She always graded the Trio’s papers together. There was often a lot
of cross-referencing to be done when the two boys saw fit to copy half of Ms. Granger’s
paper.
Minerva picked up Mr. Potter’s paper and scanned the first few lines. With a groan,
she snatched up Mr. Weasley’s paper and crossed out her own praise. At the top of Mr.
Potter’s paper was scrawled the very same words.
Mr. Weasley’s paper safely set aside, Minerva smiled down at Mr. Potter’s. The boy was
capable of thinking, if only when he put his mind to it. This was the kind of lovely work
that Minerva loved to throw in Severus’s face.
She glanced up, hoping that he might be in the Staff Room, though he rarely ever was.
The room was empty but for her. It must have gotten later than she expected. As she
turned back to Potter’s paper, a movement by the fire caught her eye. She gaped, sinking
back into the soft cushioning of her chair.
Severus Snape and Gilderoy Lockhart were sitting by the fire in two cushy armchairs.
Minerva blinked, letting Harry Potter’s essay fall to the floor.
They were talking. Amiably.
Minerva looked around frantically, searching for someone else, anyone else, but the room
was empty aside from the three of them.
Her head flopped against the back of the chair. No one was ever going to believe this.
“Look! Look! Do you see it now?” Minerva demanded, ignoring the toast and sausages
that were lingering on her plate. Albus looked at her contemplatively for a moment, but
turned back to his own meal.
“Minerva, I do believe this is all happening in your head,” he replied, taking a large bite
of toast.
“That doesn’t mean that it isn’t real,” she hissed back, peering around him toward
the seats where Severus and Lockhart were sitting, side by side at the head table.
Talking. They were still talking. And no one would believe her with the evidence right
there. “Have you ever seen Severus talk to anyone like that?” she prodded.
“He talks to me,” Albus replied, now devouring a mouthful of bacon. He seemed a bit
peeved that she would suggest otherwise.
“But Lockhart isn’t like you. And he isn’t like Severus. He is the exact kind of arrogant
person that Severus hates, so why-”
“Minerva. Honestly. You need to let this go.”
Minerva stood, letting her chair screech back. Several heads at the Gryffindor table
turned. “You are a fool, Albus Dumbledore,” she snapped irritably and flew from the hall
in a flurry of robes.
Albus shrugged. “That is hardly difficult to deduce.”
Minerva saw them walking through the corridors together all the time. Sometimes she
followed them, always letting her presence be known by the clicking of her high heeled
shoes. They never seemed to mind, and this relationship could not have been farther from
the one that Severus had had with Quirrell, cornering him in dark corridors after hours to
warn him off.
With Lockhart the two of them spoke - never touching - simply talking about
whatever there was to discuss. And they spoke in the light of the sun, as rich and warm as
Lockhart’s shining hair.
Minerva watched, and she waited, and in her heart she knew that no one would believe
her, no matter how hard she tried to explain.
Albus was in bed. The other teachers were in the Staff Room, chuckling and chattering
after a long day.
The Great Hall was full of students, whispering in wandering waves of sound. Minerva
stood in the back, shadowed by a corner, lost in the crowd. She could see the dueling
platform clearly, though, and she wondered why Albus would let this go on without his
being present.
Lockhart spoke for a few excruciating moments, his milk and honey voice like a soothing
salve on the young girls’ hearts. A few of the boys groaned, and Minerva recognized Mr.
Weasley among them. Her mouth curved into a smile.
But as Severus and Gilderoy stood back to back, as they took their steps and turned
around, as they bowed low, eyes locked, Minerva could not look away, her heart beating
a mile a minute.
It was over in less than a second; if she had blinked, she might have missed it. Gilderoy
was on his back, and Severus stood over him, a smirk of superiority slithering across his
face.
Gilderoy threw himself off the ground, face redder than before, and though to others it
might seem from embarrassment, to Minerva it was different. The eye contact between
the two was more than just gracious, and the flush on Gilderoy’s face was nothing short
of-
Honestly, the entire thing was achingly erotic.
Minerva was hardly aware of anything else, of Potter’s duel with Malfoy, of the presence
of the snake, of Potter’s whispered, hissing words. As students fled the hall, the Golden
Trio among them, Minerva rushed forward, the click of her shoes loud and angry.
“Severus,” she roared, and her hands braced against his chest and threw him back against
the wall. The shock in his eyes was only there for an instant, but Minerva hoped that the
stone wall had hurt his back. Badly.
“If you would excuse me, Minerva,” he said smoothly. “I have yet to give an affable
thanks to my opponent.” He nodded over her shoulder at Lockhart, who was busily
transporting the four tables back to their places, oblivious to Minerva’s presence.
“I bet that’s not all you’d like to give him, is it?” Minerva hissed, seeing red flash before
her eyes. “Severus Snape, you have some explaining to do.”
He unknotted her hands from his collar with a disgusted flinch. “I assure you that I have
no idea what you are talking about.”
“So you don’t want to explain to me why I just watched you- he-” Now that she was
attempting to explain it, she could find no words. “You were practically- You might as
well have ripped off his trousers and buggered him right there.”
Severus raised his eyebrows and gently extracted himself from between her and the
wall. “I believe that if I done that, the children might have noticed.”
“So you admit-”
“I admit, Minerva, that you need to get more sleep. Or perhaps find a lover. You
obviously have some… pent up frustration that desperately needs an outlet.”
He swept toward Lockhart without a word, but Minerva did not miss the length of their
handshake, and the look in their eyes that was always the same at the first burning sear of
their intense eye contact.
She crept off now, like a cat with her tail between her legs, shoes clicking miserably
against the stone floor.
Severus was the first to step forward against him. He called Gilderoy out, raising his
eyebrows and throwing Gilderoy straight into a task that he was unprepared to perform.
Minerva was quick to second, even as she contemplated the horror that would be
informing the other Weasleys of their sister’s demise. She rose against Gilderoy, along
with Filius and Severus, who again condemned the man.
And Gilderoy, for the most part, was shaking in his boots. When he looked at Severus,
though, there was a glint of something. Not betrayal or distrust, but a hint of something
else, which for the first time in the last however many months of stalking, Minerva could
not name.
She wrinkled her nose as Gilderoy flounced off, clearly planning to pack up and leave
before it was too late.
“Severus,” Minerva tried, voice quiet and hand comforting as it landed on his shoulder.
He shrugged it off and departed, lip curled, without another word.
“He’s a fraud, Severus.”
Somewhere along the way, Minerva had become invested in all of this. She knew it then
because when she spoke, her words were filled with a care and sadness that she did not
expect. Severus rolled his eyes.
“Gryffindor sentimentality again,” he mumbled. “I’ve known it all along. That he was a
fraud, I mean.”
The two of them stood outside the hospital wing. The great doors were closed, though
they could hear Poppy running back and forth inside in the cold light of morning.
“Then why did you-?”
Severus smirked. “You still don’t know if I did anything, Minerva.”
She sighed. “And I suppose that I never will, will I?”
Severus sighed now. “Yes. Caught on at last, I see.”
There was silence again for a long time, until Poppy opened the door and peeked out at
them.
“Do you want to see him?” she asked, glancing between Minerva and Severus. She, of
course, had no reason to suspect that one of them would be more inclined. “He isn’t
exactly himself, you know. His memory….”
“I am afraid that I don’t have the stomach for it,” Minerva said, taking a step backward as
Severus took one forward.
“I would like to take a look and see if perhaps there is a potion…” he trailed off, and
Poppy slipped out as he slipped in.
“Keep an eye on the door for me, Minerva?” she said. “I am desperate for some
pudding.”
Minerva nodded, and after a moment she could no longer contain her curiosity. She
cracked the door hesitantly, looking in with tired eyes. Gilderoy was in the bed nearest
the door, though neither man would notice Minerva from where they sat.
“You’ve made your choice, then?” Severus was saying.
Gilderoy looked up at him, blinking the foggy haze of oblivion from behind his
eyes. “Yes,” he said quietly. “It is really the only way out.”
“Did you ever mean-”
Gilderoy snorted. “I suppose they told you what I did then?” Severus nodded. Gilderoy
snorted again. “I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, Severus, but never would I deal
the Wizarding World such a blow as to disable the Boy Who Lived.”
Severus smiled at this, his lips turning up. “A shame,” he said. “I would have admired the
effort.”
They came together at this, Gilderoy craning up in his bedsheets and Severus bending
down for a moment, just so that their lips touched slightly.
“You won’t turn me in, will you?” Gilderoy asked when they pulled away.
“Never crossed my mind.” The way Severus said it, there was no doubt to his sincerity.
Minerva shut the door gently, not a moment too soon. Severus came gliding out. He saw
her and shook his head, a slow, sad shake that broke her very heart. “Nothing I can do,
Minerva. He’s too far gone.”
She bit her lip and nodded, and when the tears fell, she pretended that they were for
Gilderoy, and not for Severus.
Ever After
Severus visits St. Mungo’s on Sunday afternoons, and nobody but Minerva knows. She
only knows because she is a nosy, old snoop who cannot keep to herself. At least, that is
what Severus says. Minerva likes to think that she cannot stand to miss out of the ending
of a good love story.
It puzzles her, sometimes, and she often longs to know more. She wants something else,
not just the stolen moments on which she intruded, the last seconds of free romance that
she disturbed.
She wonders why, most often, but she does not ask.
One fine, Sunday afternoon in the following September, Albus smiles widely over his
pudding and asks Minerva where she thinks Severus might be.
Minerva shrugs and says that it is of no matter to her where Severus might go.
“Perhaps out with a secret lover,” Albus jokes, referring to the failing in her predictions
where Severus is concerned.
Minerva smiles at this and admits defeat.
Thought it still remains a fact that Minerva has a keen eye, and she is never, ever wrong.
And when Severus returns, she hides her pity well, as usual, for the man never has any
use for it. Life continues much the same as it had before.
But Filius finds, much to his dismay, that Minerva has dropped out of the betting game
forever.
When the other teachers ask her why, and they often do, well, Minerva just smiles and
gives them the same, cryptic answer.
Minerva smiles and informs them that one particular love story has ruined her forever.
Recipient: miss_morland
Title: And the Lies, Well, He Clutched Them Close to His Heart
Pairing: Gilderoy Lockhart/Severus Snape
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2359
Summary: Minerva McGonagall has a keen eye for love, though it sometimes shows
itself in the most unlikely of places. But when she gets involved with the love lives of others, she might end up with a broken heart of her own.
Author's Notes: This was insanely fun to write. I struggled with the pairing at first because I wanted to make the relationship believable, but Minerva’s eyes were lovely to write through, and my amazing/supportive/wondrous beta D is much loved for her help.
Were Minerva not a teacher, her life would be incredibly boring.
This morning, Wilhelmina had spotted Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater sharing a
chaste kiss outside the Gryffindor common room. As a result, Minerva’s pocket was ten
galleons heavier, and Wilhelmina’s ten galleons lighter.
The problem with this, however, was that with her bet successfully won, there really was
not much else to do. She and Madame Hooch had already decided that it was in poor taste
to bet on the love lives of twelve year olds; otherwise, Minerva would have had twenty
galleons on Hermione Granger choosing Ronald Weasley.
Make that fifty.
You see, Minerva McGonagall simply had a feeling about these things, and she was
never wrong. She had even cheated a few galleons out of Albus’s pockets. Despite his
abilities in Legilimency, his soft heart often led him astray. With her keen, calculating
eyes, Minerva was never, ever wrong.
But with no relationships to bet on, she was left grading papers in the staff room.
Once again, were Minerva not a teacher, her life would be incredibly boring.
She had already marked a great, red ‘X’ across young Mr. Weasley’s paper. She shook
her head, humming quietly. First essay of the year and the boy had copied a full foot and
a half of Hermione Granger’s paper. And Miss Granger had let him. Minerva shook her
head.
How love makes us blind.
Minerva scanned the few lines that had spouted themselves from Mr. Weasley’s own
mind. There was a particularly well-phrased and accurate paragraph, and she grinned
proudly while reading it.
Satisfied smile on her face, Minerva brought her quill to the parchment and scribbled
some hasty praise. She always graded the Trio’s papers together. There was often a lot
of cross-referencing to be done when the two boys saw fit to copy half of Ms. Granger’s
paper.
Minerva picked up Mr. Potter’s paper and scanned the first few lines. With a groan,
she snatched up Mr. Weasley’s paper and crossed out her own praise. At the top of Mr.
Potter’s paper was scrawled the very same words.
Mr. Weasley’s paper safely set aside, Minerva smiled down at Mr. Potter’s. The boy was
capable of thinking, if only when he put his mind to it. This was the kind of lovely work
that Minerva loved to throw in Severus’s face.
She glanced up, hoping that he might be in the Staff Room, though he rarely ever was.
The room was empty but for her. It must have gotten later than she expected. As she
turned back to Potter’s paper, a movement by the fire caught her eye. She gaped, sinking
back into the soft cushioning of her chair.
Severus Snape and Gilderoy Lockhart were sitting by the fire in two cushy armchairs.
Minerva blinked, letting Harry Potter’s essay fall to the floor.
They were talking. Amiably.
Minerva looked around frantically, searching for someone else, anyone else, but the room
was empty aside from the three of them.
Her head flopped against the back of the chair. No one was ever going to believe this.
“Look! Look! Do you see it now?” Minerva demanded, ignoring the toast and sausages
that were lingering on her plate. Albus looked at her contemplatively for a moment, but
turned back to his own meal.
“Minerva, I do believe this is all happening in your head,” he replied, taking a large bite
of toast.
“That doesn’t mean that it isn’t real,” she hissed back, peering around him toward
the seats where Severus and Lockhart were sitting, side by side at the head table.
Talking. They were still talking. And no one would believe her with the evidence right
there. “Have you ever seen Severus talk to anyone like that?” she prodded.
“He talks to me,” Albus replied, now devouring a mouthful of bacon. He seemed a bit
peeved that she would suggest otherwise.
“But Lockhart isn’t like you. And he isn’t like Severus. He is the exact kind of arrogant
person that Severus hates, so why-”
“Minerva. Honestly. You need to let this go.”
Minerva stood, letting her chair screech back. Several heads at the Gryffindor table
turned. “You are a fool, Albus Dumbledore,” she snapped irritably and flew from the hall
in a flurry of robes.
Albus shrugged. “That is hardly difficult to deduce.”
Minerva saw them walking through the corridors together all the time. Sometimes she
followed them, always letting her presence be known by the clicking of her high heeled
shoes. They never seemed to mind, and this relationship could not have been farther from
the one that Severus had had with Quirrell, cornering him in dark corridors after hours to
warn him off.
With Lockhart the two of them spoke - never touching - simply talking about
whatever there was to discuss. And they spoke in the light of the sun, as rich and warm as
Lockhart’s shining hair.
Minerva watched, and she waited, and in her heart she knew that no one would believe
her, no matter how hard she tried to explain.
Albus was in bed. The other teachers were in the Staff Room, chuckling and chattering
after a long day.
The Great Hall was full of students, whispering in wandering waves of sound. Minerva
stood in the back, shadowed by a corner, lost in the crowd. She could see the dueling
platform clearly, though, and she wondered why Albus would let this go on without his
being present.
Lockhart spoke for a few excruciating moments, his milk and honey voice like a soothing
salve on the young girls’ hearts. A few of the boys groaned, and Minerva recognized Mr.
Weasley among them. Her mouth curved into a smile.
But as Severus and Gilderoy stood back to back, as they took their steps and turned
around, as they bowed low, eyes locked, Minerva could not look away, her heart beating
a mile a minute.
It was over in less than a second; if she had blinked, she might have missed it. Gilderoy
was on his back, and Severus stood over him, a smirk of superiority slithering across his
face.
Gilderoy threw himself off the ground, face redder than before, and though to others it
might seem from embarrassment, to Minerva it was different. The eye contact between
the two was more than just gracious, and the flush on Gilderoy’s face was nothing short
of-
Honestly, the entire thing was achingly erotic.
Minerva was hardly aware of anything else, of Potter’s duel with Malfoy, of the presence
of the snake, of Potter’s whispered, hissing words. As students fled the hall, the Golden
Trio among them, Minerva rushed forward, the click of her shoes loud and angry.
“Severus,” she roared, and her hands braced against his chest and threw him back against
the wall. The shock in his eyes was only there for an instant, but Minerva hoped that the
stone wall had hurt his back. Badly.
“If you would excuse me, Minerva,” he said smoothly. “I have yet to give an affable
thanks to my opponent.” He nodded over her shoulder at Lockhart, who was busily
transporting the four tables back to their places, oblivious to Minerva’s presence.
“I bet that’s not all you’d like to give him, is it?” Minerva hissed, seeing red flash before
her eyes. “Severus Snape, you have some explaining to do.”
He unknotted her hands from his collar with a disgusted flinch. “I assure you that I have
no idea what you are talking about.”
“So you don’t want to explain to me why I just watched you- he-” Now that she was
attempting to explain it, she could find no words. “You were practically- You might as
well have ripped off his trousers and buggered him right there.”
Severus raised his eyebrows and gently extracted himself from between her and the
wall. “I believe that if I done that, the children might have noticed.”
“So you admit-”
“I admit, Minerva, that you need to get more sleep. Or perhaps find a lover. You
obviously have some… pent up frustration that desperately needs an outlet.”
He swept toward Lockhart without a word, but Minerva did not miss the length of their
handshake, and the look in their eyes that was always the same at the first burning sear of
their intense eye contact.
She crept off now, like a cat with her tail between her legs, shoes clicking miserably
against the stone floor.
Severus was the first to step forward against him. He called Gilderoy out, raising his
eyebrows and throwing Gilderoy straight into a task that he was unprepared to perform.
Minerva was quick to second, even as she contemplated the horror that would be
informing the other Weasleys of their sister’s demise. She rose against Gilderoy, along
with Filius and Severus, who again condemned the man.
And Gilderoy, for the most part, was shaking in his boots. When he looked at Severus,
though, there was a glint of something. Not betrayal or distrust, but a hint of something
else, which for the first time in the last however many months of stalking, Minerva could
not name.
She wrinkled her nose as Gilderoy flounced off, clearly planning to pack up and leave
before it was too late.
“Severus,” Minerva tried, voice quiet and hand comforting as it landed on his shoulder.
He shrugged it off and departed, lip curled, without another word.
“He’s a fraud, Severus.”
Somewhere along the way, Minerva had become invested in all of this. She knew it then
because when she spoke, her words were filled with a care and sadness that she did not
expect. Severus rolled his eyes.
“Gryffindor sentimentality again,” he mumbled. “I’ve known it all along. That he was a
fraud, I mean.”
The two of them stood outside the hospital wing. The great doors were closed, though
they could hear Poppy running back and forth inside in the cold light of morning.
“Then why did you-?”
Severus smirked. “You still don’t know if I did anything, Minerva.”
She sighed. “And I suppose that I never will, will I?”
Severus sighed now. “Yes. Caught on at last, I see.”
There was silence again for a long time, until Poppy opened the door and peeked out at
them.
“Do you want to see him?” she asked, glancing between Minerva and Severus. She, of
course, had no reason to suspect that one of them would be more inclined. “He isn’t
exactly himself, you know. His memory….”
“I am afraid that I don’t have the stomach for it,” Minerva said, taking a step backward as
Severus took one forward.
“I would like to take a look and see if perhaps there is a potion…” he trailed off, and
Poppy slipped out as he slipped in.
“Keep an eye on the door for me, Minerva?” she said. “I am desperate for some
pudding.”
Minerva nodded, and after a moment she could no longer contain her curiosity. She
cracked the door hesitantly, looking in with tired eyes. Gilderoy was in the bed nearest
the door, though neither man would notice Minerva from where they sat.
“You’ve made your choice, then?” Severus was saying.
Gilderoy looked up at him, blinking the foggy haze of oblivion from behind his
eyes. “Yes,” he said quietly. “It is really the only way out.”
“Did you ever mean-”
Gilderoy snorted. “I suppose they told you what I did then?” Severus nodded. Gilderoy
snorted again. “I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, Severus, but never would I deal
the Wizarding World such a blow as to disable the Boy Who Lived.”
Severus smiled at this, his lips turning up. “A shame,” he said. “I would have admired the
effort.”
They came together at this, Gilderoy craning up in his bedsheets and Severus bending
down for a moment, just so that their lips touched slightly.
“You won’t turn me in, will you?” Gilderoy asked when they pulled away.
“Never crossed my mind.” The way Severus said it, there was no doubt to his sincerity.
Minerva shut the door gently, not a moment too soon. Severus came gliding out. He saw
her and shook his head, a slow, sad shake that broke her very heart. “Nothing I can do,
Minerva. He’s too far gone.”
She bit her lip and nodded, and when the tears fell, she pretended that they were for
Gilderoy, and not for Severus.
Ever After
Severus visits St. Mungo’s on Sunday afternoons, and nobody but Minerva knows. She
only knows because she is a nosy, old snoop who cannot keep to herself. At least, that is
what Severus says. Minerva likes to think that she cannot stand to miss out of the ending
of a good love story.
It puzzles her, sometimes, and she often longs to know more. She wants something else,
not just the stolen moments on which she intruded, the last seconds of free romance that
she disturbed.
She wonders why, most often, but she does not ask.
One fine, Sunday afternoon in the following September, Albus smiles widely over his
pudding and asks Minerva where she thinks Severus might be.
Minerva shrugs and says that it is of no matter to her where Severus might go.
“Perhaps out with a secret lover,” Albus jokes, referring to the failing in her predictions
where Severus is concerned.
Minerva smiles at this and admits defeat.
Thought it still remains a fact that Minerva has a keen eye, and she is never, ever wrong.
And when Severus returns, she hides her pity well, as usual, for the man never has any
use for it. Life continues much the same as it had before.
But Filius finds, much to his dismay, that Minerva has dropped out of the betting game
forever.
When the other teachers ask her why, and they often do, well, Minerva just smiles and
gives them the same, cryptic answer.
Minerva smiles and informs them that one particular love story has ruined her forever.