The amount of trouble February had been in when she finally got home after her foray into the alleys of Hogsmeade had been astronomical. Poor Lydia was still traumatized and Febs felt guilty about that, but aside from the healing bruise on her knuckles, Febs had walked away unscathed, thanks to Mr. Umbridge. Needless to say she was quite house-bound, until she had thought to put together a little basket of treats to thank Mr. Umbridge in person. That her mother had reluctantly agreed to after Febs described how his quick thinking had prevented her from getting actually hurt. She may have embellished a little, but she certainly wasn't going to say as much to Mr. Umbridge.

This time with her incredibly overprotective housekeeper, Mrs. Harding, in tow, February headed off to the ministry, a basket of homemade treats on one arm. She hadn't really ever been to the ministry before and found it to be a flurry of activity and a little overwhelming. Of course this situation in Irvingly was a pressing matter and February nearly hesitated in disturbing the busy auror's office with the intrusion, but after the secretary had greeted them, it was a little too late.

For a quick moment Febs thought Mr. Umbridge might be too busy to see him and she could simply leave the basket for him (it had a note in it just in case) but it seemed that was not the case. The secretary opened the door for her and Mrs. Harding stationed herself beside the door frame as February stepped into Mr. Umbridge's office, trying to think of a witty greeting. "I promise I only come bearing treats, no piglets or punches in sight." She cast him a coy smile and offered the basket as proof.

"Oh? Whatever for?"

What a...!

February narrowed her eyes at him, brows furrowed carefully. She had given him a run for his money, she knew that much and here he was acting as if he didn't even remember her. Well, two could play that game.

"Oh? Apparently I was mistaken. I'll just take these homemade cookies and go." She tucked the napkin atop the sweets in a little more securely and gave him a nod. "Must have the wrong office, sorry to bother." She added as she turned to go. Mrs. Harding was looking at her with the most incredulous look on her face, but Febby simply winked at her.

Mrs. Harding's smile was so evident that her housekeeper had to duck her head aside for a moment. Febby had to bite her lip to prevent a full-blown grin from erupting on her own features; she'd known what she was doing. Slowly she tossed a smug smile over her shoulder and turned back to Mr. Umbridge.

"Well, if your staff could use them, I suppose I could leave them." She had brought enough to be shared, but did mean to give them directly to him. She was briefly concerned that he was referring to the mysterious situation in Irvingly and now felt a little guilty for possibly being in the way. She was admittedly thrown by his very sincere inquiry as to her own health. Though she had only met him once, and though it had been quite the adventure, Febs had rather enjoyed their more snippy, sarcastic banter immensely. Every now and then though, he threw in something genuine and she was taken aback in the best possible way.

Stepping forward she placed the basket on his desk, laying her hands gently on top of the handle briefly, leaning toward him ever so slightly, "I'm fine, really. Thank you." Before stepping back again. She was fortunate enough not to have any lasting impacts. Not so much as a nightmare from the incident, though poor Lydia could not say the same. "Been busy?" As much as she wouldn't mind a few minutes of witty banter, she also didn't want to be in the way.

Scowling in his general direction now, Febby, tucked a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear and gave him a pronounced tut of disapproval. "I did bring them specifically for you, but you seemed to be more concerned for your fellow employee's welfare." She pointed out with pursed lips, though another smile threatened to follow right behind.

"It's never far away and certainly never gone, but thank you for your concern." She was just fine after all, in the end, Mr. Umbridge had stopped the bad guy and saved the damsel, just like a fairy tale, even if Febby was far from a princess in trouble nor did she really believe in such things.

Glancing at the stack of paperwork Mr. Umbridge indicated, she was glad she didn't have to deal with that, even though she honestly would enjoy having an occupation, she highly suspected, she wouldn't want one here. "Ahh, the true danger of being an auror; death by paperwork." She chuckled ruefully.

Perhaps it had been a little more than one person could handle, but certainly his job required a level of energy cookies could certainly help with! "My goodness, taken out by cookies and paperwork, and here I thought you of a stronger constitution Mr. Umbridge." Febby teased lightly, though swallowed that thought immediately as he showed her his bandaged arm.

She sucked in a little breath, though not squeamish at the sight of injury, as she was no stranger to them herself, Febby should have realized that the possibility of his being horribly injured in his occupation was much higher than they joked about. "I see ours isn't the only adventure you've had lately. And here I thought I was special." She pouted playfully, but was, just a bit in awe of him, though she would never admit it.

"I do hope it's not too severe, you may wither away if they keep you in here for too long." Not entirely unlike Febs herself when she was stuck at events for too long sitting down and playing nice.

A knowing smile fell across Febby's features, rather pleased with how this was going. Honestly walking in, she hadn't any idea what to expect. Their adventure had started out innocent enough, though February had quickly made it a competition and before it had turned sour he had been a worth competitor. Then he had in fact turned savior much to her chagrin; Febs was still a little bitter about it.

She'd been about to make a quip about keeping his secret weakness safe, secretly pleased that the cookies were well-received, but then he called her a damsel and oh hell no.. Febby bit her lower lip thoughtfully, "As I recall I wasn't the one that got punched, not sure how many damsels do that." She tapped her lips with her fingers lightly, yellowing bruise healing across her knuckles clearly visible as she thought through it. Also, she had managed to get out of the criminal's grasp without his help. He just so happened to finish the job.

Honestly.

Mr. Umbridge was certainly going to give her whiplash. Just when she'd fully expected him to come back with a witty retort, he yanked back the reigns and caught her off guard. It was frustrating to say the least, but he was keeping her on her toes of that there was no doubt.

"I told you I was fine." She reiterated, just barely keeping the blush off her cheeks when she felt his fingertips brush along her sleeve. She quickly covered the bruise with her other hand, flustered to say the least and trying desperately not to let it show. "I was hardly top priority when the mediwizards arrived." Poor Lydia, she had taken all their attention, which was fine by Febs.

"I've had worse." She shrugged, tugging at the aforementioned sleeve, just high enough up her arm to show a short scar, but oh had it been a deep wound. Falling from a broom into a tree was not something she would recommend to anyone. "Besides, I like the proof that I actually managed to land a hit on a trained auror, for however long it lasts." She added with a flash of a grin. That had gotten too deep, too quickly and she'd do just about anything to lighten the mood again.

It was as though he thought she went running around the side streets of Hogsmeade on a daily basis. She most certainly did not, though she could be considered reckless, February had zero intention of putting herself in such a situation ever again. Reckless did not necessarily mean stupid. "I hadn't intended to make it a habit." She assured him, tone icy.

Febby straightened up, pulled down her sleeve and stepped back to give herself some distance. She hadn't come to get scolded like a child. Even his next comment should have caused her to smirk in satisfaction, but Febs wasn't into it anymore. Going between two different extremes of conversation was too much for what should have been easy banter about cookies.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you won't let that happen again." Pity, right about now she'd enjoy that... Fortunately for February, Mrs. Harding cleared her throat and gave her charge a look to signal it was time to go. Wonderful timing.

"I do hope you enjoy those, whether you choose to share them or not. Thank you again, Mr. Umbridge. I won't take up any more of your busy day." With that Febs straightened her shoulders and moved to exit his office in a swirl of skirts.