Oh gosh thank you for all the lovely reviews :) I'm so glad you're enjoying the story!

A little more Albus and Minerva today because they're sweet.


14 February 1993

Minerva fiddled with her wedding ring as she read through a fourth-year essay. Her eyebrows furrowed, she drew a line underneath the title of the essay which the student had transcribed incorrectly from the board. The rest of their essay was moot now due to the error - clearly the student had not been paying attention in class.

Minerva shook her head and moved the essay to one side, making a mental note to speak to that Gryffindor the next morning and ask them to rewrite it. Why was it always a Gryffindor, she thought tiredly, pulling the next piece of parchment towards her.

Suddenly a box of ginger newts appeared in front of her.

"What is this?" she asked, looking up and over the rims of her spectacles at Albus who seemed to have entered the teacher's lounge at some point in the last minute.

"Biscuits," he said pleasantly. "I thought we might share. May I sit?"

Minerva sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Of course. You don't need to ask," she added as he magicked a cushion on the wooden chair opposite her and sat.

She watched him for a moment. then leaned back over her marking, still absent-mindedly rotating the silver band attached to a chain around her neck. After five minutes, however, she sighed and closed her marking folder. It was no use; she could not concentrate. Her mind kept on drifting away. She supposed the arrangements in the Great Hall that morning as well as the flying Cupids were partly the cause of her absent-mindedness. If not that, then the rose petals that were continuously falling from the ceiling and sprinkling her parchment.

"Are you all right, my dear?" Albus asked as she removed her glasses and cleaned them with her robes, her expression tired and less than happy.

"Quite well, Albus," she replied. "Preoccupied perhaps," she conceded and Albus caught her eye - even though unspoken, she knew he knew what she meant. "But thank you for the biscuits. My favourite, as always," she said before smiling, letting go of the unease at last and selecting a biscuit.

He smiled too. "Could I help you with anything?"

"And the surprises never cease," she teased. "Well, since you asked, I do need a bit of help," she admitted, pointing the tip of her quill in the direction of some wool and knitting needles beside her. "I'm afraid it hasn't turned out quite how I expected."

Dumbledore picked up the needles, a small woollen jumper hanging neatly from them. "For your niece?" he asked, lifting the needle.

"Naturally," Minerva replied. "Her second now. Finn made one for her first baby, and she wanted a matching one for the next. Well, I say Elphinstone did it," she added, rolling her eyes, "really all he did was cast on and perhaps one row before he gave up. It wasn't really his forte, knitting."

"I remember he made me some socks for Christmas?"

"Aha, but was it really him?" Minerva said, raising her eyebrow.

"I never knew you to be an avid knitter, my dear."

Minerva smiled at last. "I'm not," she said. "As is evident based on whatever abomination I have forced upon that underserving jumper," she added, gesturing at the yellow jumper Albus was now happily fixing. "But Finn was certainly the worst out of us both."

Dumbledore chuckled just as the door to the teachers' lounge opened.

"Oho," said the familiar voice of Gilderoy Lockhart. "So they were right about you two."

Minerva took a steadying breath and closed her eyes briefly before turning to face the newcomer. "I beg your pardon?" she said in the calmest and most professional tone she could muster.

"I hadn't realised I was interrupting a private moment," Gilderoy continued, tapping his nose and giving her a knowing look.

Minerva frowned, then just as quickly her eyes widened as she finally cottoned on to what he was trying to say. "I—Wh—" she spluttered. "Whatever you are implying, Gilderoy-"

"Minerva, Minerva, please," he interrupted, waving his arms to calm her, "there is no need to explain. I am glad my Valentine's Day plans brought some things to fruition."

Minerva almost let her jaw drop, and she looked at Albus, who had now turned around as well, for support.

"Professor Lockhart-"

"That's all right, Headmaster," interrupted Gilderoy again, "I know what you're going to say. I will just leave you two alone. Goodnight."

And, without giving neither Minerva nor Dumbledore the time to speak, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor stepped out of the staffroom.

"Lord, that man!" Minerva burst out angrily as soon as the door closed. "We should put a bell on him so that we'll be able to hear when he is approaching."

"I believe that might not be allowed," Albus said mildly.

"I do not care one ounce," Minerva fumed, breathing heavily. "I am tired of his nonsense. If we can't get rid of him, at least a bell will give me sufficient time to prepare myself before engaging in a conversation with him."

Albus raised an eyebrow.

"Did you know he tried to start the duelling club again?"

"I did not."

Minerva shook her head. "He asked Severus, and then Filius who declined, of course. I don't know if I would be that kind."

"Let us hope that he does not ask you then," Albus said, his eyes twinkling. "We rather need a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, not a toad."

"A toad?" she scoffed. "I could do much worse than turn him into a toad," she added under her breath.

Albus, if he had heard anything at all, feigned deafness and instead waved his wand so that a tray carrying two mugs and a teapot appeared neatly on the desk separating them.

"Won't this give Gilderoy more ammunition?" Minerva pointed out as she pushed her files away.

Albus chuckled. "I do not believe we can do any more damage, my dear," he said, sharing an amused glance with her.

"I suppose not," she replied.