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Severus has had enough. Not only did the old buffoon place the whole lot of them in danger by bringing the Stone into the school, he had to do it during the unholy year of Potter. The year when he had to deal with a plethora of troublesome Weasleys, a mouthy know-it-all, and the bane of all cauldrons!

The irate professor scowled while going down the flight of steps, scaring away the few remaining students. As if the normal crop of dunderheads weren't enough to plague the castle. And the universe decided to place most of his problems in one house, under the charge of the root of his current migraine. Severus pulled a headache potion from his robes, banished the cork then downed it in one go.

He changed directions and headed to the sanctuary of his office instead of his classroom. Marking essays will have to wait. In his foul mood, the Potions professor might just use them as kindling for the fire as the only occupation that can calm him tonight is to brew something complicated. Preferable something highly poisonous.

He had just come from a meeting at the Headmaster's office. He had it scheduled to convince Dumbledoor to remove the Stone from the school or at least add reinforcements to its laughable security measures.

But he should have known something was amiss when the Deputy Headmistress was also present. He even checked the grandfather clock just to be sure that he was indeed right on time for his one-on-one with the Headmaster. Besides, the schedule posted at the staff room indicated that she should have been supervising the Weasley twins in detention.

Severus first thought that she was there to back him up. That she'd use her forceful nature to assist him maneuver Dumbledoor into relocating the Stone. Oh, how his intuition failed him. This was the last time he shows concern for the blasted school. He should have seen the unnatural twinkle lighting Dumbledoor's eyes.

Of all the ways to show favoritism, the goddess of wisdom chooses the most flamboyant. A first year on the Quidditch team. That specific first year! Gryffindor, the house of rule breakers indeed.

Even the memory of the meeting brings his blood to a boil. Severus stops for a moment, casts a simple diagnostic on himself. Damn, his blood pressure was unnaturally high. He was weighing the merits of drinking a calming drought when he turned the corner to his office and stops immediately.

Self-medication forgotten, his focus was solely on the oddity of seeing a small pile outside his slightly open office door. Apparently it was not only his intuition that failed tonight. The alarms on his door weren't triggered. Not a student and not Peeves. Damn the Headmaster and that Stone.

Severus slowed his breathing and pulled out his wand. Soundlessly, he neared the door to see that the pitiful pile consists of five dead adult Jobberknolls. Huh, he had immediate need for those since Longbottom used all of his, to the detriment of the Potions classroom. Jobberknoll feathers were not even part of the ingredients.

He left the birds alone and slammed the door open. But there had been no need for theatrics. He quickly found the intruder sitting on top of his neat desk, eyes glowing in the dim light. It gave a small meow for a greeting. Severus found his alertness transform into a smidgen of amusement. He scowled to hide it from her.

"Your version of a peace offering, Minerva?" Asked Severus, pointing his wand at the birds.

The cat narrowed its eyes and leapt off the table, changing into the woman. She picked up her wand from where she hid it inside the left drawer.

"I can transfigure them into a bouquet of flowers, if you prefer," she answered. She even starts to cast the spell.

"No, I need the feathers." He quickly crossed the room, lowers her hand to stop the spell. Then he levitates the pile out of harm's way.

Seeing that his potions ingredients are safe, Severus turns back to Minerva and waits. He did not have to wait long.

"I apologize, Severus." Gryffindor though she is, Severus has always admired how unscrupulously fair she tries to be. Current Potter blunder not withstanding.

He accepts the apology with a nod. Then he steps around his desk and sits down. The peace offering become his main focus. It would be an insult to Potions Masters around the world if he didn't carefully pluck the feathers off while the carcasses were fresh. It was true that he needed the feathers but he could have been doing something more productive with a much better peace offering if that brat had enough brain cells not to…

His fingers stilled.

She is good. He can give her that. The drama with the open locks, that transfiguration trick in conjunction with the birds, plus that heartfelt, but ultimately vague, apology; all a distraction. And he almost fell for it. Almost.

"Minerva," he said. He tried for casual but he knows that suspicion bled into his tone. He lifted his eyes to see that he had just caught her from leaving the room.

"Yes, Severus?" She slowly turns around to face him. She steps back into the room. At least she knows when she has been caught.

He conjured up a high-backed silver chair with green cushions, motioned for her to sit and assist. They work in silence and the feathers are plucked with nimble fingers. Once they were done he packed the ingredients into a labeled box, scurgified their hands then asked Minerva of their origin.

"Oh? They came from Augusta as compensation for the ones Mr. Longbottom wasted." He knew it. She never said they came from her.

"How come the owl did not come directly to me?" Severus could feel his eyebrows scrunch together trying to become one.

"I may have intercepted the package as it contained a howler." She sounded sheepish but all Severus could hear was pity. Was that why she apologized earlier? Did she hear that accursed woman's howler then felt bad for the poor ex-Death Eater?

"You do not have to protect me!" He stood up to emphasize the point. "You had no right..."

"Protect you?" She asks, standing up to match him, her chair tumbling onto the carpet with a dull thud. "I was protecting myself!" Huh? That crashed into the pity party he was putting up inside his head.

"It was selfish." She continues. "I do not want to deal with you acting like this. On top of what happened earlier with Dumbledoor. But please do understand, he is really good and we are in desperate need of talent."

She stood there, lips pressed into a thin line, nostrils flaring while waiting for his judgement. At least he got his apology. And she was practically begging. Severus accepted it with a rigid nod of his head. She can never know how he finds her most attractive when she shows him how human she is.

"Good," she snapped. Minerva bent down to right the fallen furniture and he noticed a lock of her hair escape from the confines of her bun. He had to distract his hands by placing the box of feathers onto a shelf. He composes himself while watching her image reflected on the jar of pickled salamanders. The glass showing her straighten up and manually adjust her hair.

"So, no actual peace offering?"

The Deputy Headmistress gave him a hard look, closed the the gap separating them in three strides then gave him a long and proper snog. His brain cleared enough to notice that Minerva had maneuvered them into his sparse bedroom through the hidden door in the far wall. His frock coat did not survive the trip. Neither did her hairpins.

Yes, this more productive and definitely much better…


A/N: Thanks for reading. This is my first fic. Reviews would make this newbie writer very happy. Especially concrit. Thanks :)