It's All Fun and Games Until . . .
Pawns in the Game
The deafening silence tripped the warning alarm in his mind and drew Severus Snape back from the complex formula he had been working on for the last half hour while Albus droned on about improving student/teacher relations. With a deep sense of foreboding, Severus looked up to find every eye in the staff room on him.
"Pardon?"
Albus leaned forward with one of his maddingly cheerful grins. "We were discussing this month's Interhouse Leadership Fun Day."
Severus blanched, the blood rushing out of his already pale face. Fun Day was a concept Albus first introduced at the beginning of the fall term. Once a month, the prefects from all four houses and the Head Boy and Girl were invited to spend the day together to promote interhouse harmony.
Needless to say, no one from Slytherin had bothered to accept the invitation.
"Since this is the last such gathering before the NEWTs, it might be a good idea for Mr. Malfoy to attend. I'm sure having the Head Boy around for the festivities could only make things more ... eh, festive." Even though Albus' "request" had been issued in a jovial manner, Severus could detect the steel behind it.
Still, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. If the Headmaster wanted Draco at tomorrow's soiree, Draco would be there. Even if Severus had to put him in a full body bind and drag him there personally.
Better Draco than me.
"Of course, sir. I'm sure Mr. Malfoy would be delighted to attend."
Albus settled back into his chair and gave free rein to his grin. The hairs on the back of Severus' neck stood up.
"Esmeralda was kind enough to point out that while every other staff member has taken a turn, or two, chaperoning Fun Day, you have been unfortunate enough to miss out. I believe you had urgent matters in the dungeon the last few times?"
Albus pulled a list written on stationary clearly labeled "From the Desk of Esmeralda Sinistra" from his robes. Severus glared at the Slytherin Astronomy instructor.
I knew that comment about the uselessness of looking for answers in the sky when the problems were down in the real world would come back to bite me in the arse.
With a slight readjustment of his glasses, Albus began to read from the list. "Fifth year essays to mark. Detentions to cover. Emergency cauldron inspections. Rabid wombat invasion. That was my favorite, by the way."
"Thank you, sir." In all honesty, Severus had been just as surprised as everyone else when the wombat excuse had worked.
"I'm afraid the list goes on." Albus looked over his half-moon glasses at Severus. "Tomorrow you will meet the students in the Room of Requirements at noon." Albus noticed the Potions Master's slightly evil look of anticipation. "You will remain there, with the students, having fun, until Fun Day is officially over. You will not attempt to intimidate anyone into leaving early. Everyone is to enjoy themselves. Is that clear, Severus?"
As mud, you dotty old badger.
"I'm looking forward to the opportunity, Albus."
The Headmaster ignored the sarcasm and happily adjourned the meeting.
Severus turned to bring the wrath of Slytherin down upon Esmeralda for ratting him out, but the Astronomy teacher had already disappeared. Where in hades is house loyalty when you need it?
He glided through the halls in a foul mood. He really did have better things to do than chaperone a bunch of hormonal teens for the entire bloody day.
He stopped in the center of the hall. The odd look on his face caused more than one student to find an alternate route to class rather than pass too near the his dark form.
It had suddenly occurred to him that as Head Girl Granger would most likely be there tomorrow.
Severus had always suspected that Albus had help forming his Fun Day concept. Granger was just the sort of person to encourage such nonsense in the gray-haired goat.
It was bad enough dealing with her on a semi-daily basis in class, but the thought of being forced to spend the day listening to her rambling about magical theory was more than he could stand.
On more than one occasion he had overheard her expounding on some complicated spell to a bored audience of Potter and Weasley, and barely refrained from launching into a counter argument. The young woman was incredibly intelligent but severely lacking in the experience necessary to master her many interests.
A few years of practical work as an apprentice in her chosen field and the witch would be a force to be reckoned with.
But Merlin forbid that he should be the one to point out to Minerva's favorite cub that knowledge found in books isn't everything.
There were many things that needed to be experienced to be learned. Things that he might have been willing to teach the Know-It-All if circumstances had been vastly different.
Severus was distracted from the familiar thoughts of just what kind of special tutoring he would have enjoyed giving Granger by the sight of a retreating head of platinum blonde hair.
"Mr. Malfoy, a word, if you please."
– ~ –
The problem with making potions was all the down time; time spent waiting for the solution to set or time spent stirring exactly four hundred and thirty-two revolutions. Too much time to sit with an idle brain and yet not enough time to get involved in anything meaningful.
It was one of those times that Hermione Granger found herself in as her hand automatically worked the long-handled spoon, a small part of her brain ticking off the revolutions. Nothing was scheduled to occur with the potion for another ten minutes and she was bored.
There were hundreds of things she would prefer to be doing – revising for the immanent NEWTs being at the top of the list – but Professor Snape's opinion on bringing outside work into the lab was extremely well known to Hermione. Once he had used one of her Transfiguration notebooks in a demonstration of what could happen when one is inattentive in the lab. She had lost three weeks worth of notes, and it wasn't an experience she wished to repeat.
As her hand continued stirring, she looked around the room.
Harry and Ron were bent over their cauldrons, whispering furiously to each other. Even from where she was sitting Hermione could see that the potions were the wrong shade of blue. Ron noticed her and tried to whisper something to her, but Hermione frowned and shook her head. Professor Snape would have an aneurysm if he caught her helping the boys again. Besides, if they wanted to be Aurors, they needed to be able to make and identify potions on their own.
What were they planning on doing? Flooing me every time they have a question in the field?
She quickly looked toward the front of the room. Professor Snape was seated at his desk, a stack of essays in front of him next to the ever-present bottle of red ink. She braced her chin on her free hand and watched him mark the parchments.
His hands weren't overly large, but his fingers were long. She'd once overheard Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown talking about the things men could do with long fingers. Hermione wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on her skin. Would they be hard and calloused or soft? They moved with a grace that she envied as his quill flew across the essay leaving a blood-red trail.
As she watched the pace of his writing slowed and came to a stop. Hermione blinked and sat up straighter, her eyes following the dark line of his sleeve up to meet his black gaze. He arched his brow at her and Hermione suddenly found her notes to be incredibly interesting.
Eventually she composed herself enough to look up again only to find herself caught by the ice blue eyes of Draco Malfoy.
Since his father had been sent to Azkaban and Voldemort had been destroyed (knock on wood), Draco had been ... different. She and Draco still disliked each other, but they had reached a truce. Neither actively sought the other out for insults, and humiliation and hexes were kept to a minimum. Not that anything had changed between the boys and Draco; calls of "Ferret", "Weasel" and "Scarhead" were still quite common.
The look Draco was giving her wasn't malevolent, more contemplative, as if he was trying to puzzle something out.
A quick glance down assured her that there were no potion stains on her jumper. "What?" she mouthed at him, growing concerned.
"Miss Granger."
She had to concentrate to keep her hand from trembling as Professor Snape's distinctive voice washed over her. She tried to will away the flush on her cheeks as she looked up to find him leaning against the lectern.
"Yes, sir?"
"Are you quite finished distracting the other students?"
She bit the inside of her lip to keep from answering back. He seemed to notice her struggle because that smug smirk that always made her want to hit him or hex him or worse appeared.
"I will see you after class, Miss Granger. Do try to keep your nose out of other people's cauldrons until then."
Hermione stared at her cauldron as she completed the final steps of the potion. She refused to look at Harry and Ron's (or even Draco's) reactions.
Two more weeks. I only have to do this for two more weeks. The nerve of him talking about my nose. "Hello, pot? This is Snape's gigantic beak calling."
The thought amused her and she quickly hid her half smile behind a curtain of curly hair.
Class ended and Hermione waited for the last stragglers to leave before she approached Professor Snape's desk. He continued to scribble marks on the parchment in front of him and Hermione patiently waited. She recognized the delay for what it was, another attempt to make her feel small and unimportant.
Without look up, he spoke. "I will not have you disturbing my class, Miss Granger." When she did not protest or reply he raised his head to glare at her. "No denials? No feeble explanations?"
"Would there be any point?" Almost as an afterthought she added, "Sir."
His dark eyes met hers and she refused to look away. It was a battle of wills. She could feel her heart race and knew her breathing was ragged and shallow, but still, she would not blink.
She could see the major vein in his neck jump. Could hear the crinkle of parchment as his hands closed on the essays. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he would be able to hear it. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her dry lips and his gaze dropped to follow the motion before looking away.
"I want a four foot essay on the dangers of distraction in a potions lab."
She wasn't sure what had happened, but whatever it was seemed to be over.
"I'll have it for you tomorrow."
His eyes narrowed menacingly and she wondered what she had done wrong this time.
"I was under the impression that tomorrow was Interhouse Leadership Fun Day." His voice was full of disgust as if it pained him to say the words. Hermione had to fight not to smile.
"It is, but with NEWTs coming up I wasn't planning on attending. I was going to spend tomorrow revising."
He waved his hand dismissively. "According to Professor McGonagall, you have been ready for your NEWTs since the second week of classes." His tone made it clear that her assessment wasn't one he shared.
"Nevertheless, I think I would be more comfortable..."
"I'm afraid that is not possible." He interrupted her. He returned his attention to the parchment on his desk. "The Headmaster has made it clear that he wished the Head Boy and Girl to be present tomorrow."
Hermione stared down at his bent head, unsure of what to say. Professor Dumbledore had said nothing to her, but then, he knew she normally made every effort to attend. Unlike her counterpart in the house of Slytherin.
"You can assure Professor Dumbledore that I'll be there."
She ignored his deceptively calm "I wasn't aware the matter was open for debate," and clutched her school bag to her chest. The smooth timber of his voice was disturbing her, making her restless.
Bad enough to get caught ogling her teacher during class, she really didn't want him to notice her discomfort and suddenly be compelled to inquire as to the cause. Somehow she didn't think he would see the humor in being told that his voice, to quote Ginny Weasley, "did it for her."
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
She felt the muscles in her thighs tighten involuntarily. "You haven't dismissed me, sir."
He looked up, that strange look from before momentarily on his face before the indifferent mask he usually wore reappeared. "Get out, before I assign detention with Filch."
Hermione made good her escape and didn't stop moving until she made it back to her room in Gryffindor tower.