Did anyone miss me? I'm alive…Anyway even though my chaptered things are still on hiatus I made a drabble-oneshot-thing. Enjoy!
December 14, 1942
"You were born on New Year's Eve, weren't you?" Minerva said, smiling sweetly.
"I'm impressed that you remember," Tom said. "I hope you don't expect me to know yours at the moment. I place little significance on birthdays. I did not ask to enter the world, nor did I achieve anything remarkable by being born. I don't see much reason to reward me for being alive another year."
"Reward you?" Minerva scoffed. "What makes you think you're even getting a gift?"
"You wouldn't be confirming the day if you didn't have intentions of giving me something," he pointed out. "So out with it, Minerva. What have you got for me?"
She made a face. "Fine." She rummaged around in her book bag, pulling out a box about the size of a small book. It was wrapped in white butcher paper and tied with a tartan ribbon he suspected was originally meant for her hair.
"Is that it?"
"Congratulations on staying alive," she said coolly. "Although it isn't your birthday yet, so you might not actually make it through this year. We'll find out soon enough."
Tom laughed, taking the box from her. "Diffindo." She exclaimed in displeasure when his spell caused both paper and ribbon to fall away from the gift in neat strips. Quirking a brow, he picked up the book carefully, probing the cover with his long fingers. "A defense against the dark arts book?"
"Aye."
"A third-year defense against the dark arts book?"
"It's not for third years, it's intermediate!" Minerva protested. "And it's hardly appropriate for a third year, I'd imagine."
"Alright," Tom said, looking at her bemusedly.
"There's a card as well," Minerva said, settling herself on the armrest of his chair and leaning in. "In case you didn't notice."
"Ah." He saw the edge of the envelope sticking out between the pages, and he extracted it, opening it carefully. As he took in the image on the front, he found himself smiling against his will, and as he read the message inside, he could not repress a chuckle. "This is -it pains me to admit this- adorable."
Minerva smiled smugly. "I thought you might like it."
"Come here." He pulled her off her perch and onto his lap, hugging her. "You realize that I only knew to wish you a happy birthday this year due to a convenient reminder I received."
"I don't mind."
"You are far too good-hearted," he said, loosening his grip and regarding her with interest. "I don't see the need to be so... sweet to me."
"I like you," she said frankly. "I enjoy giving little loving gestures to my friends."
Tom was silent, and withdrew his arm, examining the book as she pushed herself back to the armrest. Something seemed different; he could no longer turn the pages. "Did you-"
"Open it," she said, her eyes mischievous. "Turn to page 394."
He found the page with little difficulty, the other pages newly fused together. The book was hollow, the center of each page carved out to make a small cavity inside. A small steel container lay in the pages, tightly ensconced between fragmented lines of text. "A flask?"
"I know about your absinthe habit," she said, pulling it from the book.
"It's hardly a habit!" he protested. "More of a penchant-"
"Whatever you call it, it's hardly legal, even if you will be of age soon," she said dismissively. "I'm just being a horrible enabler. Do you like it? I had it engraved with your house crest."
"It is perhaps the best gift I have received from another," Tom said honestly. "Thank you."
"Don't get it confiscated," Minerva said sharply. "I'll be upset if you're careless with my gifts."
"Don't hold me to it," he said slyly. "I've told you multiple times that I can't abide sentimentality."
"On that abhorrent note," she said, wrinkling her nose, "I'm going to bed. Bye, Tom."
"Goodnight, Minerva." He extended his arm, and after rolling her eyes, she returned his hug. Without warning, he pulled her to him tightly, causing her to exclaim in protest. "You're not allowed to leave."
"You are a mess," she said, her breath hot against his ear. "I have to."
"Fine." He released her. "Have a good night."
"I will." The card lay forgotten beneath the armchair.
He watched her go, and after an hour he too left for his common room, her gift carefully tucked away in his book bag.
May 2, 1998
"Voldemort carried a drinking flask?" Ron said in disbelief.
"Apparently," Hermione said. "I don't see why it's so surprising, Ronald. Even if I were a nearly invincible dark lord, I'd be concerned with attempts on my life."
"Professor," Harry said, waving McGonagall over, "aren't you going to turn that in as an artifact to the Ministry?"
"I don't think so, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said curtly. "It won't be missed. There's no need for sentimentality for Lord Voldemort's possessions."
December 15, 1942
"I thought it charming," Dumbledore said gently, sliding the card across the desk to Minerva after her senior-level transfiguration class. "Certainly worth keeping, at any rate."
Minerva stared at the parchment before her, expression composed. The ink sketch of the kitten and snake, animated and changing in color with a clever charm of her own devising, seemed offensive to her eyes now. She felt grateful that Dumbledore at least kept the card shut. Remembering the message she wrote was trying enough; she did not want to read it again. "It's only a drawing, Professor."
"A gift, regardless of triviality, is worth keeping."
"We can't all be sentimental," she said softly.
"I see." Dumbledore's expression was gentle, and he patted her shoulder. "Have a good Christmas break, Minerva."
"You too, sir."
A/N: So, if anyone caught my little Snape reference... you get a cookie. Also, I have a birthday gift to give and if this happens, I will be SO ANGRY. Gifts are important, guys. BE THANKFUL FOR THEM.
Y'all know by now that I have a habit -or rather, penchant- for this couple. I like to think that they are either friends or flirtationship-y friends in this vignette. No matter how you interpreted it though I think it's pretty clear that it's one-sided. Poor Minerva. Inconsiderate Tom. Happy author dying of exams -oops, did I write that?
Reviews make my day. ;)