#Btw this also happened with hangover potions but he's less sassy about it befause *she* drinks him under the table

[snapeaddict]

Minvember Day 3 - Dance rehearsal

"Severus, you must help me."

"I am busy."

"Busy doing what, exactly?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"..."

"The fumes, Minerva. I am watching the potion fumes. The thicker it is, the better the result for this experiment."

"I see. I thought you were merely contemplating your laboratory, brooding over the absurdity of life as per usual."

Severus rolled his eyes. He unfolded his arms and took his eyes off the cauldrons that stood a few feet before him, glancing at the deputy headmistress with an unreadable expression.

"How may I be of service?"

"My left foot."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You will have to be more precise."

"It hurts."

Almost imperceptibly, his lips quirked in a sort of twisted, half-repressed smile.

"That is most unfortunate", he merely replied.

"Well, do something about it, you annoying man!"

"I do not see how. Certainly Poppy is the one qualified-"

"You know how she is! She might talk - tell Albus -"

Severus leaned comfortably against the nearest work-table. He could have been filing his nails for all that mattered; he looked especially unbothered, with a cunning and satisfied expression patiently waiting to move each of the carefully trained muscles of his face.

"Tell Albus what?" he asked.

His voice, as usual very smooth, was a steady mix of amusement and faked ignorance.

Minerva sighed heavily. She looked over her shoulder, then replied:

"You know he stepped over my foot the whole evening. And the day before. And the day before that."

"Really? But I thought you were an experienced waltz teacher -"

"Severus -"

"Such a brilliant one, in fact, that even the headmaster could become a successful dancer under your guidance, if I recall your very words -"

"Severus -"

"And, if my memory does not fail me, to that I humbly replied-"

"FINE! YES! Albus is a lost cause. It is like his arms and legs do not belong to the same person. He smiles confidently and then moves completely out of rhythm. Are you satisfied?"

Severus smiled cunningly. He set out to the other side of the room, opened and closed a cupboard and then came back to his original place, holding a jar of white cream. He handed it to her.

"This will reduce the inflammation in under ten minutes, if applied generously. It is scented with camomille - your favourite."

"Thank you."

She turned to leave.

"Oh, Minerva?"

"What now?"

"Do you know when this was prepared?"

"I am sure you will tell me."

"August 13th. The day we learnt there would be a Yule Ball."

She rolled her eyes and left, cursing under her breath. From what Severus could make out, it was something about never taking a bet again; he turned his attention back to his cauldrons, looking very pleased with himself.