femslash_remix has finished posting (though there's an amnesty period to come). I love remixing in general and femslash in general, and I particularly love it when all the stories in a femslash remix fest feature Minerva!

It was a small but dandy little fest (three stories). (A couple of them received very little response, which is a shame. They're excellent. You should go read them). I've already recced my remixed gift here, from _hannelore. The third fest entry is by woldy, who remixed a fun story by cranky__crocus.

And finally, here's my fic. The story I remixed, by magnetic_pole, appeared in the first run of hoggywartyxmas and was one of my favorites of that year. When I saw that Maggie had offered her femslash stories for remixing this year, I jumped at the chance to revisit "Inheritance."

I hope you'll enjoy the result.

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Title: Bequest (Remix of "Inheritance")
Author: kellychambliss
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Minerva McGonagall/Walburga Black, Minerva McGonagall/Rolanda Hooch, Sirius Black
Word count: ~6000
Summary: Walburga Black has left behind more than just a grim old house and a shrieking portrait.
Warnings: none
Original story/artwork, creator, and link: Inheritance by magnetic_pole. (I have taken the liberty of borrowing several lines from the excellent original.)
Author's Notes: Many thank-yous are called for: to magnetic_pole for offering her fine stories to be remixed; to woldy for running the fun fest; and to lash_larue and Boadicea12, my stalwart and helpful betas.

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( Bequest )

It was the first day of the Christmas holiday at Hogwarts, and Rolanda Hooch was bored. No students were staying at the castle -- since the war, families wanted their children at home as much as possible -- and the empty echoing corridors seemed dark and depressing.

True, the sitting room she shared with her lover was bright and cosy, but still, Rolanda was bored. She hadn't minded a year or two of peace and quiet once Voldemort was defeated, but enough was enough. Why had they bothered to save the wizarding world, if they were just going to sit around at home every night? It probably wouldn't be long before they started knitting.

"Let's do something, Minerva," she proposed. "And I don't mean a game of chess. Something different. Something wild."

The Headmistress looked up from her book. "Peeves wasn't wild enough for you?" Their resident poltergeist had livened up the students' departure by unleashing scores of Stinking Skydivers-- a new Weasley Wheeze consisting of dung bombs dropped on firework-spouting parachutes.

"Peeves." Rolanda's snort was eloquent in its disdain. "I'm talking about having fun, Minerva. Remember that -- fun? You know, laughing and relaxing and not being the headmistress for a while? I'm sure you can search the dim recesses of your memory and recall what that was like."

She was rewarded with a raised eyebrow. "We've reached the sarcasm stage already, have we?" Minerva asked, her smile wry. "All right, Ro. What sort of fun did you have in mind?"

"Well, I. . ." Not having been prepared to gain her point so easily, Rolanda was momentarily stumped.

But not for long.

"I know!" she said. "Let's dress up as Muggles and go to London."

"London? But. . ."

"And let's switch places!" Ro interrupted, carried away by the possibilities. "I'll get tarted up all femmy, and you can wear some dykey drag. A tux, maybe! Satin! What do you say?"

Since she'd got out of her chair during this speech to wind her arms around Minerva and trail soft kisses down her neck, the headmistress, after a gasp and a moan, could do nothing but acquiesce.

A few magical transformations later, they were ready. Minerva availed herself of one of the perks of her position to create a Portkey, and in no time, they found themselves outside Wicked! -- Britain's premiere witches-only bar.

Rolanda marveled at the change in her lover -- Minerva looked more rested already, smiling and comfortable with boyish Muggle hair and a black satin jacket and trousers; no one would guess that a mere hour previously, that tux had been a tartan dressing gown. So happy did she look that Rolanda decided to sneak ( a surreptitious photograph ) so that the next time she wanted to whisk Minerva off on an adventure, she could remind her of the good it did her.

If the headmistress had hoped they could keep a low profile, she was doomed to disappointment. No sooner did they step into the crowded bar than a gruff voice hailed them. "Rolanda Hooch! Minerva McGonagall!" it boomed. "As I live and breathe."

Ro turned to see ( Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank ) bearing down on them from the direction of the cloak-room. She, too, was in Muggle garb, for such was the fashion at Wicked! Rolanda took in the short grey hair and the crisp white shirt and the leather gloves and thought, not for the first time, how glad she was that Minerva was not the jealous sort; she never minded if Rolanda looked her fill at another hot woman (as long as looking was all it was, and in truth, it was never more, for Ro was never even tempted to stray. Minerva was all the woman she wanted).

"Willa, it's good to see you," said Minerva, offering her hand (Wilhelmina not being the hugging sort).

"Likewise," said Willa, giving the hand a hearty shake. "I was just leaving, but I could stay for a dram if you like. Unless. . ." she broke off, giving them and their attire a sharp glance. "This is a case of three being a crowd."

"We do have plans for later," Minerva said, snaking an arm around Rolanda's waist and setting Ro's heart to pounding. "But a dram sounds lovely."

"There's a price, though, Willa," said Ro, with an impish glance toward the normally camera-shy Minerva. "We want you to take our picture."

"Glad to," Wilhelmina replied. She conjured a quick flame to light her pipe. "If I can have a copy for myself. You're both a sight to remember. You make quite the fetching femme, Ro. Who'd have guessed? As for you. . ." she turned towards Minerva. "Didn't I always say you were a butch at heart?"

"No," Minerva replied, arching a brow.

"Oh. Well. Thought it, though. Many a time. Here, give me the camera."

She stuck her pipe behind her ear and squinted through the viewer.

"Smile!" she ordered.

( And smile they did. )

I wrote this McGonagall/Hooch double-drabble a few months ago, and I thought I'd share it with you as a bit of Valentine bittersweetness.

I hope you all have/had a lovely day of celebrating or ignoring.

( Stunners )

Here's my story for hoggywartyxmas. It has a Christmas setting, but I think we're still close enough to the holiday that it won't seem too unseasonal. It's a lot sweeter than my usual fare, but I was writing for a sweet (in the best of senses) person.

Title: What to My Wondering Eyes Should Appear
Author: kellychambliss
Recipient: cranky__crocus
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4400
Characters and/or Pairings: Dobby, OHEC (Original House-Elf Character). Everyone else is asleep.
Summary: Dobby doesn't have a red nose, and he's never claimed to be a reindeer. But when it comes to delivering Christmas presents, he'll go down in history.
Warnings: none
Notes: My grateful thanks to tetleythesecond for her thoughtful and thorough beta services. The fic is the better because of her.

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( Dobby the house-elf stood in the darkened Great Hall of Hogwarts )