There weren't many students from her year that felt the need to come back. She'd done her best to talk Harry and Ron into it, but they completely refused. To say that they were shoe-ins for the auror department was an understatement, but she didn't believe for a moment that that was why they were so adamant about going straight into the Ministry and the rest of their classmates were so eager to go into their other careers as well. She thought it had more to do with the professor currently at the head of the classroom.

It had taken a year for the damage to the school to be restored, and most of the students had helped in the process. No classes were taught for the duration of the repairs, effectively delaying everyone and allowing for recovery for those who were injured in the Battle of Hogwarts. No one was sure how Snape in particular had survived his wounds, and almost no one among the student body was completely sure how they felt about him being back.

Hermione couldn't quite blame them. His reappointment to the staff hadn't been formally announced prior to the start of term, but word had spread regardless. After all that went on during his year as headmaster, there were probably a few students who wanted to kill him. If Harry had kept the contents of the professor's memories to himself, Hermione would possibly have been one of them but as it was, she was happy to see him.

She would take all the familiar faces she could get.

Most of the student body wanted to speak to her because they knew she was friends with Harry. The rest wanted to know if she would help them with their assignments, especially the latest one that they had been given. In an effort to boost grades, each head of house announced an opportunity for bonus points: write at least three feet about a piece of literature. The assignment itself wasn't optional, but the bonus points were. In order to receive them, the assignment had to be turned into a different head of house than the student's own.

Hermione had known right away who she was going to go to.

She stood outside his office, parchment in hand, and felt herself growing more and more nervous as the seconds ticked away. By the time he opened the door to let one of the Slytherins out, she'd convinced herself to leave and had started down the corridor. One of the other professors would be happy to take her paper; her work was always easy to grade. She didn't have to go to him.

But then his voice called out: "Miss Granger."

The other student brushed past her and she waited until they were gone before she turned back around. He stood in the doorway, one hand on the knob, with an expression she could barely hope to read. Her feet began moving before she consciously thought about the action, surprising her slightly. "Professor Snape, sir, I just thought you had forgotten-"

"I have a perfectly fine memory, Miss Granger, and I remember quite clearly." He jerked his head a bit, indicating she should come in. "You've finished?"

"Last night," she nodded, then edged past him into the office. The hairs on her arm raised just from being that close to him. The last time had been not even a week ago, when he'd kissed her – or had she kissed him? She couldn't remember.

During sixth year, when he'd first taught Defense, he prepared them to defend themselves against Dark wizards and their various allies – namely dementors and Inferi. Harry had excelled at it, naturally, and Hermione was nearly right behind him, as she had been every year in the subject. Their other years had been informative, though definitely not typical, and seventh year was no exception. Snape had explained that, usually, the Unforgivable Curses were brought into the last two years, and not any earlier. Due to the unique circumstances involving He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, an exception had been made. They went over them again for the new seventh year students, just to cover the bases, but had moved on to both practicing and protecting themselves against a wide variety of jinxes, hexes, and curses.

It was in such a practice that she'd been hit with someone's hex gone wrong. She couldn't have said what hex they were trying to use, only that it lacked the desired effect. There was a scrape on her face, but that was the exception. She couldn't have said – or cared – how she ended up so close to Snape. She could remember staying to ask him for a pass so she could go to the hospital wing without her next professor scolding, and she could remember his thumb brushing over her cheek, making her shiver. And the kissing. She could remember that.

The finer details felt like they'd been obliviated.

"I asked, Miss Granger, which you chose to write." He was sitting in his chair, waiting for her to hand her parchment over.

"Oh." She flushed. "Much Ado About Nothing."

He arched a brow. "Shakespeare."

Immediately, she was indignant. "There was nothing specifying that it had to wizard literature! It just said literature! If those were the standards, Professor McGonagall should have made that clear – to make it more fair. Not all of us grew up reading the books written by wizards and witches."

"You did chose a wizard's work, however." There was that familiar smirk. "He just didn't feel the need to proclaim it."

"Oh." She handed her paper to him, hesitant to say anything else.

He began to look it over, and Hermione kept her gaze on his hands as he did. She was too nervous to watch his face, afraid that she would see a clue about his opinion and that she wouldn't like it. She was jealous about his knowledge of Shakespeare, and that jealousy was making her even more anxious than usual.

The play she'd chosen to write on wasn't her favorite. She simply liked the title. The plot was…well, to say that it was rather aggravating was an understatement. There wasn't a terribly confusing amount of characters – only fifteen – and the play wasn't overly convoluted. Hermione just didn't like it. She'd chosen to write about the major themes in the play in an effort to make herself focus on a particular area. She'd found three main themes: social grace and social propriety, using deception as a means to get what one wants, and the importance of honor.

What she should have written about was the unfairness of Claudio believing Hero was unchaste – and with another man nevertheless. That annoyed her to no end.

"Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side," Snape said suddenly, his soft voice interrupting her thoughts. Her cheeks burned even more. "No matter what you feel, it puts you opposite of where you'd like to be."

"Not always." But she didn't have any evidence of that, if he pressed her. She was thinking of their kiss again, and his eyes showed he was following her train of thought.

A few minutes later, as he led her to his quarters, she smiled. If anyone was suspicious, she'd just tell them they were making much ado about nothing. After all, her Claudio wasn't as stupid as Shakespeare's.

a/n;

This was written for Round 9 of the Harry Potter Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.
I write as Beater 1 for the Montrose Magpies.
The round prompt was Shakespeare. My position was Much Ado About Nothing.
My prompts were;
- 3 (spell); Obliviate
- 4 (emotion); jealousy
- 9 (quote); "Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side." - BBC Sherlock

Thank you to Firefly! You saved me from much embarrassment.