Disclamer: If I owned HP I would be rich, but I would still post stories for all of you beautiful people, things that couldn't go in books. But, alas, HP is not mine. So you no sue. Hey that rhymes!!!

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Twinkle, Twinkle

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"Would you pass that essay please, Albus?"

"Of course, my dear." A stunning old mahogany grandfather clock began to chime. It struck one. "I didn't realize it was so late. Are you ready to go to bed, Minerva?"

The professor answered without looking up while waving her hand in a shooing motion. "No, you go ahead Albus. I need to finish grading."

It was quiet for a moment and suddenly, "But you always work late!" Albus' eyes were twinkling and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was joking.

Minerva sighed. He always insisted upon messing with her while she was working. She knew he had tons to do in his office. Why he waited until the last minute to do it was beyond her. "Albus, stop whining."

He pushed her halfway out of her chair and sat down next to her. She shot him The Look. The one she reserved for misbehaving children. Albus ignored it. "I don't want to sleep in a bed all by myself. I'll be alone, cold, scared…" He hugged himself and shivered.

Minerva continued on with her grading, still ignoring his ploy to get a reaction out of her. It was a game they often played whenever Albus was bored. "I hardly think you will be scared, you can use a warming charm on the sheets, and Fawkes can keep you company." She dipped her quill into her red ink well and pulled out Blaise Zambini's essay on transfiguring pictures to actual objects while muttering under her breath, "Ruddy bird keeps me up all night…"

Albus rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. He pretended to wipe away a tear. "I'm hurt. You don't want to spend time with me. You don't love me anymore…" He sniffed.

Minerva rolled her eyes. He was almost as bad as the students when trying to get attention, yet she kept on grading. "Albus, you know that's not-"

Albus waved a hand at her. "No, don't try to change your mind now! I'll be fine!" He stood up quickly and, almost knocking over her ink, turned towards the fireplace. She could hear him sniffing. "Just, just keep working without me…"

She closed her eyes and reminded herself that she loved him and that driving blunt objects into his eyes did not express said love. Minerva dotted an I on her sentence a little too harshly. She grabbed something to blot the ink with. "Albus stop being ridiculous. I'm coming to bed after this essay."

He spun around and, eyes twinkling, threw his arms out to her. "I knew it! You love me! Oh, happy day! Lemon drop?" He pulled the bag out of his robes and offered her one.

She glanced at him and noticed that infernal twinkling had begun again. "No, thank you, and please stop that."

"Stop what?" Albus asked, a lemon drop halfway to his mouth.

She dipped her quill in the well. "That thing you do with your eyes."

"I do a thing with my eyes?" He looked puzzled and lowered the candy from his mouth. It was rare for him to forget about his candy.

"Yes, you do."

"What do they do?"

"They twinkle."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Every time you find something amusing or know something that others don't, they twinkle."

"Is that good or bad?"

She shrugged and corrected a mistake. "Depends on how you look at it. It's rather attractive, but then people know that you are up to something."

"Are they still twinkling?"

She glanced quickly at his eyes. "Yes."

"How about now?" Albus squinted up his eyes and opened them again.

"Yes," she replied without looking.

He rubbed them. "Now?"

She sighed and kept grading. "Yes, Albus."

"…How about… NOW?!" He jumped up and down and twirled several times before landing on his own foot. "Ouch!"

Minerva made a suggestion on Zambini's essay. "Yes, they are still twinkling."

"Should I see Poppy?" His voice was worried and had raised an octave.

She shook her head. "Albus, I doubt Poppy will want to be awaken because-"

"Maybe all this twinkling means something-" He was starting to sound panicked, as if someone had told him that twinkling was against the law.

Minerva wiped a drop of ink off the table. "Now Albus-"

He threw his hands to his mouth and looked around wildly. "Maybe it's fatal! Or I could be going blind!"

She watched him hop from one foot and to the other. "Mental is more like it."

Albus threw his hands to his eyes and began running in circles. "AGHHH!! MY EYES!! THEY WON'T STOP TWINKLING!!" He ran into the couch.

Minerva looked up from her grading as he bumped into his desk and said in an I-could-care-less voice, "Crazy old coot," and went back to her grading.

"HELP ME!! THEY!! WON'T!! STOP!!-" he ran into Fawkes perch, causing said bird to let out an unexpected, "SQUAK!!"

Minerva finally looked up from her work and noticed the state the two were in. She laughed, "Albus!"

He uncovered his eyes and righted Fawkes' perch. "Sorry, Fawkes."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you finished being a child?"

He copied her look and tone of voice. "Are you finished being a unloving wife?"

"Yes."

He smiled. "Good, we can sleep now."

Minerva smiled and picked up her papers. "Was all that really necessary?"

He took half of her stack and kissed her gently. "I made you laugh, didn't I?"

"Yes-"

Albus interrupted her, "Then, yes, it was necessary."

They walked towards the door leading out of the staff room. He was pleased with himself and she couldn't resist one more poke at him. "You're twinkling again."

"NOOOOO!"

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