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grammarwomanTitle: Have Each Other with Cream
Author:grammarwoman
Fandom/Pairing: Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall/Pomona Sprout
Rating: PG
Word length: 1000
Content Notes: (skip) Animal play, recreational drug use.
Author's Notes: My first entry for this year's![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo for the (skip) animal play square. One of these days I'll actually finish in time for the competition round and not just bat clean-up during the amnesty. Many thanks to kate the Amazing Beta. You'll never get rid of me now, mwah-hah-hah! The title is from the Cure song "The Lovecats". I'm not ashamed to say that I love my title to pieces. *grin*
Have Each Other with Cream
Professor Minerva McGonagall stayed on her feet until all of the children and that horrible Umbridge woman left her Transfiguration class, slumping into her chair when at last the room was empty. Really, if it wouldn't have set a dismal example for her students, she would have dearly loved to have inflicted some true Dark Arts on the hateful wretch, if only to show up what an abysmal job she'd do in defending herself. To question Minerva's competence in front of her own class – of all the bloody nerve!
Minerva shook her head at her spiteful thoughts: that she had been reduced to imagining such a foul attack against a fellow witch spoke ill of her self-control. She resolved to treat herself that evening to some special care and resolutely put the incident out of her mind.
That night, Minerva gathered a small bag of supplies and wound her way through Hogwarts. Pomona Sprout swung open her door after a few knocks and greeted her with a delighted smile. "Minerva, my dear! How good it is to see you!"
"Thank you, Pomona. I was hoping your evening was free for a visit?" Minerva resisted the urge to clutch more tightly to her bag. It wouldn't do to draw any attention to herself, and she knew Umbridge's eyes were everywhere.
"Of course. Please come in." Pomona held the door wide.
"Bless you." Minerva strode inside with her head high and arranged herself on the comfortable but hideously ugly floral couch. She sighed and let her head fall forward as her shoulders slumped.
"Oh dear," said Pomona. She carefully closed and locked her door. "That bad, is it?"
"Umbridge," Minerva stated, and Pomona nodded.
"Say no more. Shall I get you some tea?"
"Your special blend, if you wouldn't mind? Today was a very trying day."
"You poor thing! Yes, of course. The special blend." Pomona grinned. "Shall I get you a pillow as well?"
"Pomona, you are a treasure. The one with the tassels, if that wouldn't be too much trouble?"
"Never for you, my dear." Pomona bustled about her kitchen, heating a kettle on the stove and retrieving some tea and a strainer from a cabinet. She went into her bedroom and came out with a large pillow that was covered in embroidered tea roses and tassels around the edges. She set it down next to Minerva. "Will that do, love?"
"Excellently, thank you." Minerva opened her bag and arranged its contents on the table. When the kettle started whistling on the stove, Pomona set up a tea tray and set the brew to steeping in a pot that was patterned in violets and ivy.
"Can I get you anything else, Minerva? A saucer of warm milk, perhaps?" Pomona's grin was wide. Minerva couldn't help but smile in return.
"Not unless you're prepared to deal with the consequences."
"Perhaps not, then. May I pour you some tea?"
"Please."
Pomona filled a delicate china cup for her with the fragrant liquid. It was much greener than the usual blend found in the Hogwarts kitchen. Minerva could already feel her tension start to fade as she inhaled its delectable aroma. She took a few careful sips.
"Pomona, you do have such a skillful hand for this. Thank you."
"Not at all, Minerva. It's the least I could do, for all the trials you face on our behalf."
"You are too kind." Minerva allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. It was so nice to have her efforts appreciated. The catnip tea was starting to take effect; she could feel the tips of her fingers and her ears going numb. She drained the rest of the cup and set it down. "Shall we, then?"
"Oh, yes, my dear." Pomona sat down beside her. "Whenever you're ready."
Minerva rolled her shoulders and stretched, then flipped what she thought of as the special switch in her mind. Her form shrunk down to a tabby cat; she leaped to the table and started nosing at the collar there.
Pomona sighed. "With your talent, Minerva, it's a good thing we have you here, fighting the good fight. Now, does the pretty pussy want her collar on, yes?" She leaned over to the table. Minerva purred and nudged her head under Pomona's hand.
"Don't be so impatient! I'm getting there." Pomona buckled the collar around Minerva's neck and picked up the brush that had also come out of Minerva's bag. She plumped up the pillow and set in on her lap. "Who wants a good brushing?"
Minerva stretched out her paw. The catnip was making the colors in the room swirl and bend; her paw seemed to leave a trail behind it as she languidly waved it in the air.
"Going to your head already, is it?" Pomona laughed. "That's all right – up you go!" She scooped Minerva up from the table and placed her on the pillow in her lap. Minerva fell over on her side in an undignified sprawl and idly batted at a tassel.
Pomona scratched her behind the ears with one hand and brushed her with long, gentle strokes with the other. She chattered gaily about her day and the latest crops springing up in her greenhouse as she groomed Minerva, crooning over her in treacle-sweet phrases that normally would have had Minerva recoiling in horror.
Minerva in turn wiggled and rolled, letting Pomona run the brush all over her body, luxuriating in the feel of it through her fur as her mind drifted in blissful catnip intoxication. Pomona rubbed at her ears and paws, laughing as Minerva basked and purred in a satisfied puddle. She had heard the Muggles had something they called a 'spa day', but she couldn't imagine the pampering there being any better than this.
She twined her tail around Pomona's wrist in thanks and showed her her belly. Let the true cats have nine lives, she thought; she was satisfied for the moment with the one she had right there.
Author:
grammarwomanFandom/Pairing: Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall/Pomona Sprout
Rating: PG
Word length: 1000
Content Notes: (skip) Animal play, recreational drug use.
Author's Notes: My first entry for this year's
kink_bingo for the (skip) animal play square. One of these days I'll actually finish in time for the competition round and not just bat clean-up during the amnesty. Many thanks to kate the Amazing Beta. You'll never get rid of me now, mwah-hah-hah! The title is from the Cure song "The Lovecats". I'm not ashamed to say that I love my title to pieces. *grin*Have Each Other with Cream
Professor Minerva McGonagall stayed on her feet until all of the children and that horrible Umbridge woman left her Transfiguration class, slumping into her chair when at last the room was empty. Really, if it wouldn't have set a dismal example for her students, she would have dearly loved to have inflicted some true Dark Arts on the hateful wretch, if only to show up what an abysmal job she'd do in defending herself. To question Minerva's competence in front of her own class – of all the bloody nerve!
Minerva shook her head at her spiteful thoughts: that she had been reduced to imagining such a foul attack against a fellow witch spoke ill of her self-control. She resolved to treat herself that evening to some special care and resolutely put the incident out of her mind.
That night, Minerva gathered a small bag of supplies and wound her way through Hogwarts. Pomona Sprout swung open her door after a few knocks and greeted her with a delighted smile. "Minerva, my dear! How good it is to see you!"
"Thank you, Pomona. I was hoping your evening was free for a visit?" Minerva resisted the urge to clutch more tightly to her bag. It wouldn't do to draw any attention to herself, and she knew Umbridge's eyes were everywhere.
"Of course. Please come in." Pomona held the door wide.
"Bless you." Minerva strode inside with her head high and arranged herself on the comfortable but hideously ugly floral couch. She sighed and let her head fall forward as her shoulders slumped.
"Oh dear," said Pomona. She carefully closed and locked her door. "That bad, is it?"
"Umbridge," Minerva stated, and Pomona nodded.
"Say no more. Shall I get you some tea?"
"Your special blend, if you wouldn't mind? Today was a very trying day."
"You poor thing! Yes, of course. The special blend." Pomona grinned. "Shall I get you a pillow as well?"
"Pomona, you are a treasure. The one with the tassels, if that wouldn't be too much trouble?"
"Never for you, my dear." Pomona bustled about her kitchen, heating a kettle on the stove and retrieving some tea and a strainer from a cabinet. She went into her bedroom and came out with a large pillow that was covered in embroidered tea roses and tassels around the edges. She set it down next to Minerva. "Will that do, love?"
"Excellently, thank you." Minerva opened her bag and arranged its contents on the table. When the kettle started whistling on the stove, Pomona set up a tea tray and set the brew to steeping in a pot that was patterned in violets and ivy.
"Can I get you anything else, Minerva? A saucer of warm milk, perhaps?" Pomona's grin was wide. Minerva couldn't help but smile in return.
"Not unless you're prepared to deal with the consequences."
"Perhaps not, then. May I pour you some tea?"
"Please."
Pomona filled a delicate china cup for her with the fragrant liquid. It was much greener than the usual blend found in the Hogwarts kitchen. Minerva could already feel her tension start to fade as she inhaled its delectable aroma. She took a few careful sips.
"Pomona, you do have such a skillful hand for this. Thank you."
"Not at all, Minerva. It's the least I could do, for all the trials you face on our behalf."
"You are too kind." Minerva allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. It was so nice to have her efforts appreciated. The catnip tea was starting to take effect; she could feel the tips of her fingers and her ears going numb. She drained the rest of the cup and set it down. "Shall we, then?"
"Oh, yes, my dear." Pomona sat down beside her. "Whenever you're ready."
Minerva rolled her shoulders and stretched, then flipped what she thought of as the special switch in her mind. Her form shrunk down to a tabby cat; she leaped to the table and started nosing at the collar there.
Pomona sighed. "With your talent, Minerva, it's a good thing we have you here, fighting the good fight. Now, does the pretty pussy want her collar on, yes?" She leaned over to the table. Minerva purred and nudged her head under Pomona's hand.
"Don't be so impatient! I'm getting there." Pomona buckled the collar around Minerva's neck and picked up the brush that had also come out of Minerva's bag. She plumped up the pillow and set in on her lap. "Who wants a good brushing?"
Minerva stretched out her paw. The catnip was making the colors in the room swirl and bend; her paw seemed to leave a trail behind it as she languidly waved it in the air.
"Going to your head already, is it?" Pomona laughed. "That's all right – up you go!" She scooped Minerva up from the table and placed her on the pillow in her lap. Minerva fell over on her side in an undignified sprawl and idly batted at a tassel.
Pomona scratched her behind the ears with one hand and brushed her with long, gentle strokes with the other. She chattered gaily about her day and the latest crops springing up in her greenhouse as she groomed Minerva, crooning over her in treacle-sweet phrases that normally would have had Minerva recoiling in horror.
Minerva in turn wiggled and rolled, letting Pomona run the brush all over her body, luxuriating in the feel of it through her fur as her mind drifted in blissful catnip intoxication. Pomona rubbed at her ears and paws, laughing as Minerva basked and purred in a satisfied puddle. She had heard the Muggles had something they called a 'spa day', but she couldn't imagine the pampering there being any better than this.
She twined her tail around Pomona's wrist in thanks and showed her her belly. Let the true cats have nine lives, she thought; she was satisfied for the moment with the one she had right there.
