Made it Himself

Snape yawned, sitting up and stretching as he peered blearily at the clock next to his bed.  Six-thirty in the morning, and already there was a persistent knocking at his door.  If he listened closely, he could swear he heard a faint mewling as well, the sound a cat would make if it had been firmly ordered to remain quiet.  There was only one person who had that type of control over their feline companion…

The knocking intensified; with a low growl, he stood, flinging a robe around his shoulders and running his hands through his hair.  He’d been up late the night before grading assignments, and one thing he hated was to be woken before he was ready.

He stumbled over to the door, righting himself before falling into it, and opened it a crack.  Filch stood there, ingratiating smile on his face, deep red box in his hands, and Snape realized suddenly that it was Valentine’s Day.

“Filch, what on ear-” his protest was cut short as he got a closer look at the man.  His hair was shorter, and clean, and he was dressed almost nicely; Snape took a cautious sniff, and the scent of soap and cologne greeted his nose.

“Did you bathe for this?”  Anger gave way to curiosity as he opened his door further, allowing the man and his cat inside.  He was amused to note that Filch was not the only one who had gotten a bath.

“Sit, sit.  You’ve woken me up, so you might as well give me an explanation for all…”  Snape waved his hand, indicating Filch’s clean and dressed up state.  “This.”

“Well, Professor Snape-d’ye mind if I call you Severus?-Severus, then.  D’you remember that ‘secret Valentine’ thing that Professor Dumbledore was so keen on?”  Filch looked at him as Snape slapped a palm to his forehead.  He hadn’t actually; in his hatred of the day, he’d forgotten all about it.

Damn.  I’ll need to go out and buy McGonagall some chocolates, or something.  What the hell does one buy a woman like that for Valentine’s?  Belatedly remembering that Filch had asked him a question, he nodded slightly.  “Yes, now that you mention it, I do remember something along those lines.”

“Well, Severus, I got you.”  Snape’s left eyebrow rose as Filch flushed; this day had started out odd and gotten even more strange!  He glanced at his clock again; only fifteen minutes had gone by since he’d first heard the knocking on the door.

“Did you now.  That’s…interesting.”  He looked down at the box in Filch’s hands, then reached out for it; the man gave it up to him willingly, flush still dancing about his cheeks.  Funny; cleaned up and with shorter hair, he didn’t look quite so bad as usual.  Snape shook his head slightly and opened the box.

“A…a scarf.”  It was actually a lovely scarf, done up in his House colors, and very soft; Snape looked appraisingly at Filch as he pulled it out of the box.  “It’s a lovely scarf, Filch.”

Filch fidgeted in his chair, not looking at the professor.  “I…um…I made it m’self, see, Professor Snape.  ‘m glad you like it.”  He stood, suddenly, scooping up his cat.  “Well, I’ll be off then.  Just wanted to give you your Valentine’s gift and all.”  He left, closing the door behind him, as Snape stared at the scarf in his hands.

Made it himself?  And he got all dressed up…but…

He ran to the door and opened it.  “Filch!  I say, Filch!”  The man turned around, glancing at the Potions Master, as Snape hurriedly flung the scarf about his neck and came down the hall.  Though it pained him—he wasn’t one for physical contact—the man had hand-made his gift.  So he screwed up his courage and flung his arms around Filch, whispering “Happy Valentine’s Day” in the other man’s ear.

The look on Filch’s face made it worthwhile.