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#that cloak-blanket made minerva cry in late 1998 when she retrieved it from the staffroom – @snapeaddict on Tumblr
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Snapeaddict

@snapeaddict / snapeaddict.tumblr.com

I write about Severus, Minerva and Albus | Hurt, comfort and fluff are my thing | Elle/she | PP by eleni-anz, BP by mmad-lover
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sneverussape

the staff room’s baby

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snapeaddict

There had been small signs, all of them barely noticeable to most but unmistakable to the sharp eye of the veteran professor. There was, of course, the slight tilting of his head whenever there was a pause in the conversation, or the pace at which he was turning the pages of his journal, slower than usual, with the occasional rereading of the same paragraph. Of course, Severus made no objection to a second reading immediately after the first if he thought he had missed something, or not been mindful of the style or tone - it did happen a bit more, naturally, when he read fiction in another language. But this was a potions journal, in English. In such circumstances, going back to a paragraph right away could only be explained by the will to express criticism in the most acerbic tone, which he had not done once since they had sat down.

She could add to these observations the rapid blinking and the squinting eyes on a face devoid of its usual scowl, when the two always went hand in hand. She was familiar with it all: she acted the same whenever she was fighting off sleep, most often during Friday-night detentions. As for the scowl... Albus claimed she and Severus shared a very similar one. Very off-putting, he said. With a calculating air and "flaring nostrils". She denied it vehemently; Severus, however, had simply said he had learnt from the best.

So, Severus was tired, as per usual sleep sleep-deprived, apparently to such a degree he could no longer hide it. He could have gone back to his quarters, taken a nap - it was four in the afternoon, classes were over. But apparently it had not crossed his mind, or if it had he had decided against it for some nonsensical reason partening to pride or misplaced professionalism.

Minerva studied him, then gazed at the rest of the staffroom, quiet, slightly warmer than usual, devoid of any presence but theirs. She wondered if, left alone for a quarter of an hour, the room would not seem to Severus safe enough to rest his eyes for a few minutes, or so he would think.

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