Word Count: 824
Warnings: So vanilla it's still in the bean!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters and their worlds belong to their original writers and no copyright infringement or offence is intended. No money was made from this story.
Summary: Because nothing says 'Happy Valentine's Day' better than Minerva 'pussy-cat' McGonagall trying to set you up with every unattached member of staff, including non-humans and ghosts, in a crisis of guilty conscience and self-recrimination. (Or she's just drunk.)
A/N: Thanks to the fabulous Selkie [pets Selkie.] Oh, and it's post-DH, or what should have been DH, or, you know, analogous to what would have been DH if she hadn't killed Severus and forced Harry into a marriage of convenience as he mourned his secret One True Love for the rest of his days! Ahem. Snape is alive, and Harry is not in school.
The door flew open, and Severus stormed into his dungeon study and slammed the door closed. That woman was beyond infuriating. All week, all he had to do was turn a corner and there she was, some poor sap in her clutches, and an almost insane grin on her face. And when she wasn't presenting some poor fool to him like her Animagus form dropping a mouse before its human, she was moping about how alone he was, and how sad, especially with that day coming up. And then she would horrifically flutter her eyelashes at him. He could have done without ever knowing she could do that.
He had to admit that one of the more humorous incidents had been was Minerva hauling an oblivious Hagrid before him. What on earth she thought he might find interesting in the vapid half-giant he didn't know, and hopefully never would. When Hagrid had finally twigged on what she was talking about, he gibbered, paled, and fled with uncommon, if lumbering, grace. He shuddered once more at the thought.
She was drunk. That was the only excuse he could summon to explain her behaviour. Or maybe she had found some Muggle drugs to addle her brain with. He took a brief mental side-trip to consider the effects of said drugs on a wizard's constitution before dismissing it all as foolishness, and slumped in his chair, wondering what to do to avoid the obdurate and merciless Gryffindor.
He wasn't given much time to ponder as his fireplace roared suddenly with green flame. "Are you there, Severus?" Minerva chirped, "only I've got just the perfect person for you to meet."
"Merlin's Beard, woman," Severus snarled, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Oh, Severus, you know I can't abide thinking of you so alone at this time of year," Minerva mourned. "Everyone else has been placed quite nicely, but there you are, hiding in your dungeon when you could be so happy with just the right man. Or woman, if that's your preference, though I must say I would be quite surprised if it were. I mean to say, I know Lily was supposed to be your one true love, and it was so romantic, but you can't deny that you spend quite a lot of time looking at some of the more masculine members of our society."
Severus allowed took a breath, and attempted to calm himself, but failed. "Are you out of your bloody mind, woman?" he roared. "I have no intention of tainting myself with the tawdry pap you appear to ingest, and I will never be romantic. And just what does the time of year have to do with anything, anyway?"
"Oh, Severus," Minerva sighed, and he was amazed to see tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes, "I know St Valentine's Day must be so hard for you, but I'm trying, so very hard, to make it better for you."
Severus blinked. "What day?"
"St Valentine's Day," Minerva gushed.
"Right," Severus decided, "I'm calling Poppy so that she can take you to St Mungo's. You obviously require time and space so that you can rest and get rid of those bloody foolish thoughts!" He closed his eyes and took several calming breaths. "Go, Minerva. Leave me alone. I have no interest in romance, or, or any of this stuff and nonsense."
Minerva sniffed, but withdrew from the fireplace.
"Not romantic, huh?" Harry quipped from where he leaned against the doorway to the bedroom.
"Not a romantic bone in my body, boy," Severus sneered. "You knew that before you came to my bed, so you'd better not be regretting it now."
Harry snorted, and sauntered towards the seated professor. "Do I look like I want a romantic partner?"
Severus allowed his black eyes to roam over the small, lean body only somewhat covered by the emerald robe. "You look like someone who could do with a bloody good buggering," he decided, and leaned forward to drag the younger man down onto his lap.
Harry laughed, and draped his arms around Severus' shoulders. "Promises, promises," he leered, "but how about we move it to the bedroom just in case she decides to try again."
Severus shuddered then stood, lifting Harry with him, feeling the younger man lock his legs around his waist. "You actually had a good idea. I should note that in my calendar," he mused.
"After you've fucked me through the mattress," Harry insisted.
"Oh, very well," Severus sighed before throwing Harry down onto the bed. "The things I do."
Harry laughed, and watched as Severus quickly shucked his clothing before joining him on the bed. Neither of them heard the fireplace gush into green flame again, nor did they see Minerva's smug expression as she listened to them distract themselves with one another.
"Teach them to try and hide things from me," she snorted softly, then withdrew from the fire.