It has been years since I last wrote in the Harry Potter fandom, but then this little story invaded my mind quite by force and I laughed before writing it down. Hope people like it. It's just a silly little story involving two of the staff members of Hogwarts, Severus and Minerva.
Getting Even
He and Minerva had always been competitive, and it had, oddly enough between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, been both friendly and rewarding.
He with his smarts and she with her daring made quite a pair of practical jokers when it came to the other. And it was, for the most part, kept private, or at least between the staff.
He knew it would happen one day. She would do something to his classroom, and, knowing the way he taught it would be exactly this.
It was first day of school and he was off to teach the first year Slytherin and Ravenclaw students. As always, his routine of entering his classroom, his domain, had not altered.
But, before he could utter a word to his students, he was hit hard in face and knocked flat on his behind. It took him a few minutes to realise what had happened, with the annoying background noise of snickering children and he had waited before the room stopped spinning before he took any notice of anything.
Grunting, he raised himself off the floor, brushed off his robes and glared. The class soon shut up, as was wanted, as he now had a thumping headache.
Glancing back at the door, he closed his eyes and knew it was Minerva. No student would dare do this to him, not even Potter and his friends, all now safely being taught Charms several floors above his dungeons.
The inside of the door, mainly the doorknobs, had been transfigured from metal as was their norm, to a very bouncy rubber.
He had been slammed to the floor by his own door, in his own mad rush to just get in as fast as possible. Plus, it usually made for a rather showy way of scaring the children on their first lesson with him.
He knew exactly what it was in retaliation of. He had enchanted one of the Weasley twins' fake wands to not change shape when it was picked up, but to wait until a spell was cast. He had switched it out with her normal wand when she had been called away from getting her class ready for the first lesson, and he had managed to sneak in while her back was turned.
Her first spell had ended up not transfiguring a pine needle into a sewing needle, but her wand into a limp toy schnauzer.
Starting his lesson with his normal speech for the new first years, he began to absently run through what he should do in retaliation to this embarrassment? He knew whatever it was he'd have to settle it down a bit. There was absolutely no need at all to start involving the students in their fun.
This meant war. And the war was a private one.