A/N: So I found these still on my computer a while ago. They're nothing big, just deleted scenes from my current fic, Magic That Binds, but I decided that I might as well share them. Hope you like em, short though they are.


Deleted scene between Severus and Minerva, from chap. 8. I originally had McGonagall visit Severus while he was recouping before Dumbledore showed up, but the chapter was already long enough, and it didn't flow as well with this part in. So, it, unfortunately, had to go.

Peace and quiet.

Relaxing into his pillow, Severus reveled in the silence of his rooms. There was no fussing mediwitch breathing down his neck or a hen-pecking Headmaster hanging over him, waiting for his eyes to pop over. It was just him, his comfortable bed and the solitude of his room.

Perfect.

But it could be better, he thought, his eyes wandering towards his liquor cabinet. Poppy would kill him, no doubt. And Albus would probably have a word or two, but they weren't here, were they? He got up and poured himself a glass.

"What do you think you are doing?" Minerva ushered herself through Severus' floo, brushing off the dust on her robes.

"Taking my medicine", Severus muttered. He tipped his glass back and let the whiskey burn its way down his throat.

"Interesting medicine, I don't recall Poppy prescribing that for you. In fact I believe you were told to stay away from alcohol until you were fully recovered", she shuffled over to an armchair and plopped down letting out a long sigh.

"Is that what she said? I don't recall", Severus put his glass down, but didn't move to join her beside the fire. He hoped she would take the hint and make her visit short.

She didn't, in fact, take the hint and called for a house elf to bring tea and biscuits. Soon she was settled into her seat and nursing a hot cup of tea between her hands. In between sips she said, "Well take a seat and eat something".

"I'd rather stand thank you", he replied instead, glaring at her. Never mind the fact that his back was aching six ways to Sunday, and his favorite chair suddenly looked extremely comfortable at the moment. He knew the minute he sat down, she would try to wheedle a conversation out of him. She would ask him how he was. He would snap out that he was fine. Then she would look at him with those concerned eyes, he would feel damn guilty and then she would make a point to stay and talk to him-to reassure him that he had friends to support him or something like that. Shit, he had been hoping to skip all that.

"What do you want?"

Minerva snorted not at all impressed by his imposing attitude. "Oh stuff it Severus, that glare might work on your students but I assure you it doesn't work on me. Now, sit down and eat something before I throw a hex at you so nasty that you'll be speaking gibberish for a week!"

Severus did as he was told, grumbling. He tore off a piece of biscuit roughly and shoved it in his mouth.

Minerva pressed forward, primly wiping the crumbs around her mouth with a napkin. "Now, I came down here to make sure that you were feeling alright."

Here we go. Severus settled into his chair and prepared himself for, "the talk".


This was taken from chap. 7, right before Hermione finds Severus bleeding in the Hallway. She initially made a pit stop at the kitchens, and it was on her walk back from there that she spotted out favorite Potions master. While I love Dobby's character, it just didn't fit with the rest of the chapter.

Sighing in frustration, the young witch sat back in her chair to look out one of the nearby windows. The sky had darkened considerably and the moon was now the only light source hanging in the clouds. She had been in the library for hours. How long exactly, she couldn't tell, but it had to have been long enough for dinner to come and go.

An audible gurgle from her stomach confirmed her suspicions, and with a roll of her eyes, she gingerly got up from her seat. A trip to the kitchens is in order, she mused, putting away her books and muttering goodbye to Madame Pince. She briskly walked down to the portrait of fruit guarding the kitchens and tickled the pear to get inside.

Upon her entrance, every House Elf immediately stopped what they were doing to stare at her, most with distrust. It seemed they still hadn't forgiven her for trying to free them in her fourth year.

Good, she thought. She hadn't given up on freeing them, anyway. She was just stowing it away until after Voldemort was dealt with.

"Um, hello," she started, "I was wondering if I could get a snack."

A small head popped from behind one of the doors. "Misses Harry Potter's Friend!" Dobby squealed, bouncing over to her side. His outfit, made up of entirely socks, flickered with his movements.

"Hello, Dobby," she said, patting the small Elf on his shoulder. "Are those a new pair of socks I see?"

The House Elf's excitement multiplied. "Oh, yes! The headmaster gives Dobby the pair last weeks for a 'raise'. Dobby is being very proud of them, misses." He took off the two socks that were hanging from his ears and presented them to her. The first was green with blue stripes and glitter and the second was bright yellow with a picture of two doves kissing on the front.

"These are very lovely, Dobby." The Elf beamed.

"Thank you, Misses. What can Dobby do for you?"

Hermione bit her cheek, glancing around the kitchens at the Elves pointedly ignoring them now. "I was hoping to get a small snack. That won't get you in trouble, will it?"

"Oh, not at all! Not all!" Dobby grabbed her hand and set her at a table. "Sit, please. It's no trouble at all to get food for Misses Harry Potter's friend." He made sure she was comfortable in the little nook area, then trotted off through the door he came in through. When he came back ten minutes later, he was carrying a large tray with fruit, pudding, a few biscuits and a teapot.

Hermione's mouth dropped as she took in the sight of so much food. "Um, this is a rather large small snack, Dobby."

The small Elf's eyes misted. "Oh, did the Misses want something else?" Looking around the room, he snatched a rolling pin from the counter and proceeded to bash it over his head in penance. "Bad Dobby. You don't listen to the Miss! Bad! Bad! Bad!" He yelled, each hit getting progressively harder.

Horrified with her choice of words, Hermione wrenched the rolling pin out of Dobby's hands. "Oh, please stop! You did well! See, I'm eating." She hastily popped a biscuit in her mouth. "Mmmm! It's delicious, Dobby. Truly, you did well."

Dobby stopped trying to reclaim the cookware and watched Hermione take a bite of pudding. "Is Misses sure?" he sniffed.

"Yes, Misses is definitely sure. And I would appreciate it if you didn't punish yourself for doing such a good job."

Delighted once again, the House Elf flapped his ears. "Dobby is happy that the Misses enjoys her snack."

"Thank you, Dobby," Hermione replied solemnly and watched as he bounced away. She turned to her pile of food. "Now what am I going to do about all of this?"

In the end, she managed to eat a few grapes, half of the pudding and a few more biscuits, all washed down with a cup of tea. What she couldn't eat was vanished away (after making sure no one was looking). She didn't want to insult Dobby again, after all. With a full stomach, she hurried out of the kitchens before any of the other Elves could stuff something else down her throat.