AN: The rating on PTSD might go up to a 'soft' M eventually…this story will never have explicit sex or more than the occasional curse word. Just FYI.

And have I mentioned that Harry Potter belongs to the estimable JKR?

"You want me to WHAT?"

Minerva glared at him over her tea cup. "Really Severus, they're only decorations. Every other Professor at this school has taken a turn decorating the Great Hall. You've avoided it for twenty years."

"Tell me this is an early April Fool's joke."

"You bloody well know it isn't. Flitwick and I have to be away this weekend. I need you to decorate the Great Hall for Valentine's Day on Monday." She smirked at the grimace on his face. "Oh grow up Severus. None of us like Valentine's. Throw up some red hearts and cherubs and be done with it."

"Throwing up sounds about right."

Minerva rolled her eyes as he stalked out of her office. She wondered if she'd end up redoing whatever he came up with. She sighed.

Probably. There was almost no chance it would be appropriate.

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Severus grumbled as he prodded the spells around the great hall: he'd just swathe everything in black and be done with it.

"Bloody stupid holiday…should bloody well celebrate Lupercalia, at least the Greek and Roman traditions had a reason…St. Valentine gets himself killed performing marriage ceremonies and two thousand years later dunderheads use the day as an excuse to snog in the hallways…"

He heard a snort behind him.

Severus turned around and saw Granger glaring at the hall.

"You know the headmistress is going to throw a fit if you leave it like this."

He glowered at her as he produced black hearts from his wand.

"She was mad to assign this to me."

Granger shrugged. "You could always do something that technically passes the muster…"

He looked at her. He knew that she was sleeping at least a few hours every night. There was a good chance that he'd finally tweaked the potion perfectly for her. She wasn't her old self, but she was functioning without hugging every dunderhead she met. Eventually she'd have to deal with the underlying issues, but he knew very little about that. His life had always been about putting one foot in front of the other in order to keep going.

It was harder now that all of his enemies were dead.

He'd found solace in teaching potions again. He'd missed it desperately when he was the DADA professor and as Headmaster.

There was some comfort to be found in helping the young ones that were suffering because of the war…children who should have never been exposed to such a thing in the first place.

He mentally sighed. His only job at the moment was decorating for an outdated, particularly nauseating holiday.

"I assume you have an idea that doesn't involve cherubs?"

Hermione Granger gave him a wicked grin.

"Oh no…cherubs factor heavily into my plans."

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Flitwick sighed as they returned to Hogwarts.

"I must say Minerva; the Board of Governors knows how to suck the joy out of a room, don't they?"

She smiled down at the little man. "Of course. And just think, in a few years the joy of dealing with them will all be yours!"

His eyes widened. "Oh no you don't! There will be none of that. You, Pamona, Poppy, and I will all leave together. Let Severus take another turn as headmaster if you can convince him."

She snorted. "Severus? He won't even decorate the Great Hall in my absence. I'll give good odds that it's draped in black, just to annoy me."

Flitwick sighed loudly. "That's not the primary job of the headmaster. Simply encourage him to choose a deputy that can deal with that sort of thing…"

They walked into the Great Hall and Minerva McGonagall's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

Heart-shaped bubbles floated in place of the normal candles, glowing with golden luminescence. Tasteful white table linen covered the tables and crystal doves held red and white rose buds at each place setting. Golden cupids perched along the walls, aiming tiny bows and arrows at the long tables.

Flitwick held his wand rather nervously. "You say Severus is responsible for all this?"

Minerva nodded and began casting charms to search for dark or dangerous magic.

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Severus and Hermione snickered from a hidden corner.

"Wait till she sees the fireworks at dinner. She's going to think you're under an Imperio."

"I still wish you hadn't nixed my idea for a shooting game. Hexing cupids would have been entertaining."

"This way the rest of the staff and students will spend the entire day waiting for the other shoe to drop…especially if you spend your time trying to look innocent."

They moved out of the hall.

"I was right the first time."

She looked up at him, confused.

"About what?"

"This IS an early April Fool's prank."

She snorted. It wasn't a pretty sound, it wasn't elegant. But he filed it away. There weren't many times in his life that he'd been a source of honest, wholesome amusement to anyone. It felt…nice.