alisanne

Title: The Perfect Girl
Author:

alisanne
Pairing: Scorpius Malfoy/Minerva McGonagall
Rating: R
Word Count: 1358
Summary: Scorpius has found the girl of his dreams. Now all he has to do is meet her.
Author's Notes: Written for

rarepair_shorts's Numbers Game. Thank you to the fabulous

emynn for beta reading.

~

The Perfect Girl

~

He found the book in the library, of course. But it didn’t say who she was. The picture was faded, but her beauty still shone through. Scorpius hesitated only a moment before ripping out the photograph and slipping it into his pocket.

He’d half expected alarms to go off, or some sort of claw arm to extend from the ceiling and pick him up, suspending him in the air until Madam Pince could come and give him detention for vandalising school property, but none of that happened, and Scorpius escaped unscathed.

Back in Slytherin, in his bed, he drew his curtains before pulling the photograph out of his pocket and staring down at her, his mouth open. Vaguely familiar, she had dark, lustrous hair that fell in waves down her back, porcelain skin that looked like the finest of china, and lips that were made to be kissed. She was his dream girl. And he had no idea how to find her.

She’s be older now, of course, but Scorpius had nothing against dating older girls. He was sixteen and couldn’t recall seeing her around Hogwarts, so that made her possibly six or more years older, but that was fine. The bigger problem was the Gryffindor crest he saw on her robes. Even though the war was over and everyone liked to pretend there were no rivalries, the Houses still pretty much kept to themselves.

There were exceptions, of course. And since Scorpius was pretty sure she’d already left Hogwarts, maybe it wouldn’t matter once he was out of school, too? Aunt Pansy married a Gryffindor, he thought as he stroked the picture. Mum would be fine. Dad would raise a fuss, but who cares as long as he gets grandchildren, right?

The girl in the picture smiled at him as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

Scorpius drew a shaky breath, bringing the photo closer as he tried to see more details. He could just make out the swell of her breasts beneath her blouse, and he swallowed hard as he imagined what she’d look like with her robes completely open, her blouse off.

She would have rose pink nipples. And when he ran his thumb or his tongue over them they would pebble and she was gasp, would wrap her arms around his neck and arch up against him.

Moaning, Scorpius pressed the heel of his palm to his cock as he imagined it.

They would meet some night in a greenhouse, maybe, the fragrant smell of flowers surrounding them. She would smile, twirl that hair around her finger, and beckon him closer with her other hand until he was right in front of her, almost touching her.

He’s say something brilliant and she’d laugh, leaning forward so he could get a good look at her cleavage. She catch him looking, because she was clever, but instead of slapping him, she laugh again and pull him into an alcove. There, she would undo her blouse, tell him to touch her.

And he would. Slowly at first because he wouldn’t be sure she meant it. But he’d grow bolder eventually until he’d be fondling her breasts and she’d be sighing and pressing herself against him.

He’d think about moving his hand under the edge of skirt, all the way up her soft thigh until he hit her knickers. Then, their eyes would meet and she would smile and slowly nod.

She would be wet, slick, and as he slid a finger under her lace knickers, she’d moan and close her eyes and whisper, “Yes.”

Things would move faster then. She would ride his finger, urge him to put another inside her, and another. Maybe she would get impatient and she would shift, undoing his flies and pulling him out so she could have him shove his cock in her.

“Yes,” Scorpius moaned, his hand moving faster and faster over his shaft as he imagined it. “Fuck!”

She would let him fuck her, his perfect picture girl. She would drag him unto the ground and then she would rip at his clothes until she got to him. Maybe she’d stroke him a few times first before pulling him on top of her. “Fuck me,” she’d whisper. “I have to have you now. Come on! Fuck me!”

And he would. He would plunge into her, slide in and out of her, ride her hard. And all the while she would be clinging to him, her legs wrapped around him, her nails clawing at his skin, her back arched as she begged him to take her faster and harder.

“Oh...oh...oh...Yes!” Scorpius shouted, his cock spasming in his hand and shooting come all over his hand and his coverlet.

When he could move, Scorpius cleaned himself up with a spell and, picking up the picture, looked at her. She was still smirking up at him, her hair twirling around her finger. There was a drop of his come on the corner of the picture and, carefully, he swiped it off and sucked his thumb clean.

His girl winked at him and warmth bloomed in Scorpius’ chest. He had to find her.

The next day, Scorpius was back in the library. The book was still there, no one had noticed it was damaged. Making sure Madam Pince saw his every move, he picked it up and opened it. Gasping, took it over to her. “Madam? I’m afraid this book is damaged.”

“What?” Pince frowned when she saw the ripped page. “Merlin.” She eyed him suspiciously over top her glasses. “Where did you find it?”

“On that shelf.”

“And why were you there?”

Scorpius smiled. “I’m trying to discover more about the school and the students who came here before me. Do you know whose picture was removed?”

Pince hummed. “I believe I can get that information, yes.” Flipping though, she nodded. “As, here it is. Yes, that was a photograph of the author. None other than our own Headmistress.”

Scorpius’ eyes went wide. “Headmistress--?”

“McGonagall, yes.”

“Did someone need me?” came a familiar voice.

Scorpius froze.

“Mr Malfoy is doing some research on Hogwarts and he found one of your old books, Minerva.” Pince smiled at the Headmistress, who had somehow materialised behind Scorpius. “Remember this one?”

Headmistress McGonagall moved around Scorpius, and, taking the book began flipping through it. He risked a look at her before looking away. It was her! Salazar! He felt flushed, faint.

“As yes,” she said. “I recall this one well. I was all of twenty-one and convinced I was going to be a world famous Transfigurations expert. Goodness, where did you find this old thing?”

Scorpius bit his lip.

“Mr Malfoy found it. Sadly, it’s been vandalised, so I shall have to remove it from the shelves.” Pince took it from the headmistress. “Unless you’d like to hold onto it as a keepsake?”

Headmistress McGinagall laughed. “Not me.” She turned to Scorpius. “Would you like it, Mr Malfoy? You found it, after all.”

“I...I--” Nodding, Scorpius took the book. “I should go,” he said. “Um, I need to study.”

“Well. of course--”

Scorpius didn’t hear the rest of Madam Pince’s words, he was too busy escaping the library.

~

Irma smirked, watching the boy run off as if a dragon was at his heels.

Minerva sighed and turned towards Irma. “What was that all about?”

Irma hummed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he has a bit of a crush on you, Minerva.”

Minerva snorted. “Oh please. That’s ridiculous! He’s sixteen!”

Irma smirked. “Whatever you say, dear.” Leaning in, she lowered her voice. “Although, must I remind you? I had a crush on you at sixteen, too.”

Minerva chuckled. “That’s different. Those feelings were mutual.” She glanced once again after Scorpius Malfoy, a speculative look on her face. “No. Impossible.” She touched Irma’s hand lightly. “See you at home?”

“Of course.”

But as she walked away, Irma noticed she had a spring in her step. She smiled. Yes, her Minerva still had it.

~