A Room With a View

Start Spreading the News

The squeal that Minerva emitted when they returned to the castle at the end of the holidays was surely inhuman. It certainly wasn't feline. If anything, it seemed to be a cross between the call of a bird of prey and the sound a gerbil might make if you accidentally stepped on it.

Severus had been happily unaware that Minerva was capable of making just such a noise. In fact, he might just obliviate knowledge of this very moment from his head upon his return to their rooms.

"Oh, Severus!" his employer cried once she ceased shrieking to draw air. "You wonderful boy! You absolutely brilliant man. I'm so proud of you!" Without further ado, Severus found himself with an armful of rather wiry, tartan clan den-mother as she proceeded to hug the ever-living shite out of him.

"Yes, Minerva. Thank you, Minerva. Air, Minerva, remains a necessity of life!" he wheezed.

She broke off the hug to swat him on the arm before grinning broadly at two of her favorite people. "Wait until I tell Mohinder that I've won our bet. I had you down for the holiday, he was banking on Valentine's Day."

Severus and Hermione snorted in tandem. "He really doesn't know Severus well at all, does he?" 

"Give him time, girly," Minerva responded tartly before hugging both Severus and Hermione again. "Come. This calls for a celebratory drink. Champagne in my office, I think."

Once they'd been congratulated by half the portraits in the rogue's gallery - and after a rather loquacious speech from one former Headmaster Dumbledore - Minerva cracked open a bottle of champagne and called her husband in to sit with the newly engaged couple. Mohinder was quick to express his genuine pleasure at their news and it wasn't long until the talk between the two couples turned toward the wedding itself.

"You must be married here at Hogwarts," Minerva said firmly. "I'm going to try very hard not to be a mothering harridan, but you met here. You live and work here together. And there is not place more beautiful any time of year."

"Well, that takes the wind out of my sails, Minerva," Hermione said cheekily. "We were hoping to be married in the knot garden come June. That way a few of our students could attend." She shot a quick glance at Severus, who nodded his confirmation of their previous decision.

"Perfect," the headmistress said, clapping her hands. "That's a lovely choice. I'd imagine you'd like to keep it small?"

"I'm not entirely sure that's an option, once we invite the Weasley clan," Severus muttered. "We would like to limit it to family and close friends, the Order, and a few select students," he said, sliding a warning glance toward Hermione. "But even with those four groups we expect at least seventy people." He sighed and gave a tired smile. "Hermione has lists."

"I can't help it if I'm organized," she protested.

"Anal."

"Not in front of our friends, dear," she admonished, grinning when Mohinder spluttered into his drink.

"Hermione, I do think you've spent entirely too much time with Severus," Minerva reprimanded.

The man in question snorted. "I sincerely doubt that will improve with time, Min."

The elder woman shot him a look of mock reproof. "I was rather hoping it would work the other way around, actually."

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When Severus and Hermione returned to their rooms, it was a bit later - and they were slightly more tipsy - than previously anticipated. They opted to save their limited unpacking for the morning and retired upstairs directly.