Chapter 3

Chapter 3

What with one thing and a-fucking-nother, it was Sunday night before Severus had a chance to sneak into McGonagall's rooms again. He had no way of knowing whether Aberforth would be there, too, but he thought it was a good bet.

Two pieces of evidence had led him to this conclusion. First, the Hog's Head had early closing on Sunday nights. Second, Sprout and McGonagall had an arrangement whereby Sprout looked after the Gryffindors on Sundays while McGonagall took the Puffs on Fridays so that Sprout could visit her sister. Previously, Severus had assumed that the favour of the Friday/Sunday trade was all on McGonagall's side, but now he realised that the arrangement was probably a quid pro quo: sister-visit in exchange for lover-visit.

(If it even was a sister-visit, of course. Given the revelations that kept coming about the staff's secret lovers and secret brothers and secret pianos, Severus wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Sprout was really headed off to a lesbian orgy.)

Anyway, all signs pointed to Sunday night as a prime opportunity for a little Aberforth/McGonagall hanky-panky. Severus still had a hard time believing the two of them could be an item, but apparently all it took to get into McGonagall's bed was a little anti-Voldemort sentiment. Let Aberforth Dumbledore do a little cloak-and-daggering for the cause, and he was in like Flynn, goats or no goats.

Severus could just imagine Ab and McGonagall sitting around congratulating each other on their moral superiority as Defenders of the Good. Probably considered it foreplay.

Gross.

Letting himself into McGonagall's chambers was as easy as it had been the first time, although Severus still moved just as carefully and stealthily as before, thankful for the coat rack that concealed the door as it opened. You could never take chances with this sort of thing. He'd also made sure to arrive early. After all, he couldn't hear anything useful if he spied on people who were asleep.

Plus, he might be in time to watch them fuck.

*-*-*-*-*

They made a disgustingly domestic picture sitting together on the sofa in front of the fire, Aberforth with his legs stretched out before him, McGonagall nestled against his side with her feet tucked beneath her. He had his arm around her and was idly releasing locks of hair from her bun as he talked. Astoundingly, she wasn't objecting.

". . .hate that I'm not going to be able to stay the night with you," he was saying. "But Moody's got it into his head that this time he has a real lead on the scum who tortured the Longbottoms. He wants to do a little reccy, just the two of us."

"And here I thought he had a staff of highly-trained Aurors to help him with that sort of thing," McGonagall said. "Silly me."

"No, it's nothing official at this stage, see? Only a spot of information-gathering. We'll just be two old goats asking a few questions, that's all. Nothing dangerous."

McGonagall snorted. "As I recall, that's exactly what Alastor said just before he lost his leg. Well, you're right about one thing, at least. You are old goats, the pair of you."

"Aye," Aberforth nodded, grinning. "Not the same kind of goats, though. Moody, now ... he's a paranoid old goat. Unlike me."

"Oh? There are some who might disagree with that assessment," McGonagall replied, smiling in her turn and tugging lightly on Ab's beard. Under his Invisibility Cloak, Severus stared. A playful McGonagall was the last thing he'd expected. Then again, cats did like to toy with their prey, didn't they?

"Well?" she asked finally. "What kind of old goat are you, then?"

"A randy one," said Ab, and dropped his hand to her breast.

Without the self-control he'd developed during the endless hours spent dancing attendance on an unpredictable madman, Severus thought he'd probably have given himself away by gagging. This old-person sex stuff was even weirder than he'd expected. Here was ancient Ab groping McGonagall's tits. Ew.

Severus sidled a little closer for a better look.

Part of him expected McGonagall to bat Ab's hand away or show some other sign of prim outrage, but instead, she leant in to kiss him, and he pulled her close.

It was a passionate kiss, as far as Severus could tell, and his breath came faster as it occurred to him that they might try a quickie before Ab had to leave.

But no such luck, of course. After a moment, Ab sat back and gazed at McGonagall, his hands still cupping her face, his thumb stroking her cheek gently. The look in his eyes was. . .

Well, it was a look that Severus didn't really understand. He only knew that he'd never have expected to see it on the face of a tough, grizzled man like Aberforth Dumbledore. It spoke of vulnerability and need and something more. . .

And it was making Severus damned angry. What right did that codger have to feel something like that for an old spinster schoolteacher, anyway? And to have her there, in his arms, when. . .?

He shook his head violently to rid his mind of the sudden picture of Lily. She was dead, and he'd been an idiot to let her matter to him in the first place. He wanted to shout at Aberforth, who was still looking at McGonagall with that sappy expression on his face, "Forget it, old man! She'll just leave you, it's not worth it."

But he merely watched as Ab got stiffly to his feet and accio'd his cloak.

"I'll see you next week, then?" he said, running a hand through McGonagall's hair.

"You'd better make certain of it," she answered sternly, but belied her tone by catching his fingers and kissing them lightly. She watched, smiling, as he stumped out the door, and when it had closed behind him, she rose and moved towards the other room, probably to get ready for bed.

Severus decided to get out while the getting was good. He still wanted to see McGonagall naked ... she actually did have nice tits, old as she was ... but somehow, he'd lost his taste for it tonight.

*-*-*-*-*

She was all prim bun and high-necked robes at breakfast the next morning, as if she hadn't been hoping to spend the previous night in wanton fornication. After he'd retired to his own bed, Severus had spent some time imagining just what she and Ab would have done in hers: in his mind, he'd seen the old man take McGonagall from behind, work-roughened hands on her breasts; he'd seen her hair spilling over her shoulders, her neck arched as she responded to Ab's thrusts. She'd looked surprisingly hot.

I know what you get up to, Severus thought as he watched her help herself to porridge. Don't think I'm fooled by that strait-laced act.

As if she heard his thoughts, McGonagall turned towards him. "I hope you had a pleasant weekend, Severus," she said. She'd started doing this lately ... using his given name instead of "Professor Snape." He suspected mockery.

"It was all right," he muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"I said it was all right!" he repeated loudly. "I stayed in."

"I see," she said, sprinkling currants onto her porridge.

He was sure she was judging him. "I suppose you're going to tell me I should get out more," he charged. "You know, socialise ... you're going to suggest I go to the Hog's Head or some rot like that." He watched her out of the side of his eyes as he said this last, but she didn't react.

"Not at all," she said. "First, I wouldn't presume to tell you what to do with your free time, and second, I know how you feel: a cosy private weekend can be just the thing after a busy week of teaching."

"A cosy private weekend," ha! Clearly she was speaking from experience. Well, if cosying up in bed to a naked old man was her idea of fun. . .

He gave her a grunt in response, since he'd reached his limit of morning conversation. Luckily, McGonagall seemed to take the hint, for she said nothing further.

But since no hint had yet been invented that could shut up Dumbledore, the headmaster just banged ahead, either not noticing or not caring how much Severus wanted to be left alone.

"Severus?" he said. "If you could spare me a few minutes after dinner tonight? I have something to discuss with you in my office, if you would be so kind."

Severus almost didn't answer ... it wasn't as if he were being asked a real question to which he could say "no" if he wanted to. Which he did. But Dumbledore just sat there twinkling and smiling and waiting, so finally Severus said, "fine," and went back to his sausages.

*-*-*-*-*

"I'll come straight to the point," Albus began that evening, after Severus had refused his offer of tea or firewhisky, and they at last got down to business. "Despite everyone's relief over Voldemort's death, it is very unlikely that we have seen the last of your erstwhile master. And we certainly have not seen the last of his many followers."

Severus nodded. Finally someone was showing some sense about the state of the post-Voldemort wizarding world.

Dumbledore beamed. "Ah, I knew I could count on you to see things clearly," he said. "Well, then you'll be glad to hear that some of us from the Order of the Phoenix are continuing our clandestine monitoring of the political situation. I'm hoping that I can enlist your help in that endeavour."

Of course. More work.

"What do you want me to do?" Severus asked warily.

"Oh, nothing onerous," said Dumbledore, waving an airy hand. "Just collect a message or a packet from time to time. From the Hog's Head. As you know, the nature of my brother's business brings him into contact with some of the more questionable members of our society, and he often has useful intelligence to communicate to me."

"Why can't he just send you an owl? Or firecall you?"

"Even in these relatively peaceful days, I don't trust public channels. As Mr Moody says, we need 'constant vigilance.' I suspect your own experience has taught you the same caution." Dumbledore cocked an inquisitive eye, and Severus nodded again. It was true; he did believe that caution was still essential.

"So it will be a considerable help to me if you would casually drop into Aberforth's pub every fortnight or so, in case he has something for me."

Severus remained suspicious. "Why can't he just send it with McGonagall? Or bring it to you himself? He seems to come here pretty regularly, if you get my drift."

Under his beard, Dumbledore's lips drew together, a sure sign that his patience was thinning. "I'd have thought you'd outgrown that sort of adolescent sexual innuendo, Severus. I have my reasons for needing to collect Aberforth's information at the Hog's Head. But never mind. You're obviously unwilling to help, so I ... "

"No," Severus interrupted. "I'll do it."

He had no desire to antagonise Dumbledore ... at least not without a better reason. He still thought this story was pretty weak, but fine, whatever. He could manage a trip to the Hog's Head every couple of weeks. His first horrified thought ... that this was yet another ploy to get him to make new friends ... now seemed unlikely. Not even Dotty Dumbledore would consider a near-centenarian barkeep to be an appropriate friend for someone barely twenty-two.

"Excellent." Dumbledore was twinkling once more, and why not? He'd got what he wanted, as usual.

*-*-*-*-*

Donning his Invisibility Cloak the way he always did for trips to Hogsmeade ... the nosy world didn't need to know where he was going or what he was doing ... Severus made his first visit to the Hog's Head. He went on a Tuesday afternoon, a time that he thought would probably be fairly slow for a pub. He was right: the only other person in the grotty public room was a shabby character snoring noisily in a corner.

Aberforth stood behind the bar, absently wiping a glass with a dingy cloth. "What'll it be?" he asked without looking up. His wand, Severus noticed, was in a holster right next to his hand.

"Nothing," said Severus. "The Headmaster asked me to stop in."

Aberforth rolled his eyes and used his wand to cast a quick Muffliato. "Merlin's tits, man. And I thought you were supposed to have a been a DE spy. If this is an example of your technique, it's a wonder you're still breathing."

Severus felt himself flush. Did every fucking person in Hogsmeade know about his past?

"What, you want a secret handshake or code or something?" he sneered. "Fine, if you want to play that game. How about 'silly buggers' as a password?"

To his surprise, Aberforth grinned. "Aye, Albus said you were a prickly one. No, Twinkletoes, we don't need any passwords. Here's how it works: you come in ... and not always at the same time, mind; you don't want to be predictable ... you come in and sit at the bar. I serve you a shot of firewhisky. . .on the house, it'll be, and you stay for a while and sip. Chat with the other customers, if you've a mind, though I get the feeling you're not exactly talkative. Then when you're ready to leave, leave. If I've got anything for you, you'll find a parchment has been magicked into your pocket. If I don't, you won't. Got it?"

"Of course," said Severus. What kind of moron did the man think he was? "And I can pay for my own whisky." He wasn't going to take charity.

"Don't be daft. It's not me being generous, trust me. Albus pays. And why shouldn't he? You're doing a job for him. So take the whisky and shut up."

He poured two fingers as he talked and shoved the glass along to Severus. "Go on, sit down," he said, when Severus didn't move. "It will look suspicious if you just come and stand here like the Grim Reaper."

"Look suspicious to who?" Severus couldn't resist asking as he glanced over at the snoring drunk.

But Aberforth was serious. "It's the ones you don't see that you have to worry about," he said. "Now sit."

Severus sat. In truth, he was curious about Aberforth, about a man who could hold his own with Albus Dumbledore and who could get into Minerva McGonagall's iron knickers.

To his own amazement, he ended up staying for nearly half an hour. Aberforth turned out to be interesting: wry and funny and very sharp ... and one of the few people Severus had met in Hogwarts or Hogsmeade who didn't idolise the headmaster.

McGonagall's name didn't come up, of course, but Severus was more curious about her and Ab than ever. He could now see some of their similarities, their dry wit and quick minds and sarcastic turns of phrase, but their differences still seemed greater. He wanted to know what kept them together.

And he still wanted to watch them fuck.