A/N: Happy birthday to KaileenaKali! Sorry this is a little late.
Prompts: Severus/Hermione (my first and only Snape fic), favorite song/band, Post-Hogwarts, keep it light.
Severus sat at the table beside Hermione and Pomona. It was a small gathering at Hogwarts for Christmas that year. Only two students, one from Ravenclaw, one from Hufflepuff, had remained. Most of the teachers were dancing, spinning in large circles, and laughing; it was highly obnoxious.
"Professor Snape?" the second year Hufflepuff asked.
"Yes?" he responded slowly, dragging the word out and narrowing his eyes at the tiny girl.
"Could we be excused?" she asked in a shaky voice.
"No." If I must endure, so shall they.
"Oh Severus," Pomona chuckled, "don't be such a grinch. You may go, Hillary."
But the kids stayed put, warily watching him.
"Go on, both of you," Hermione shooed them away from the table and frowned at Severus. "That wasn't nice."
"Who would ever use such a word to describe me?"
"Well…no one," she conceded. "But it doesn't mean you can't be a little unexpected sometimes."
"Are you saying I'm predictable?"
"I think even Trelawney could foretell your actions."
Severus felt his face stretch under the sudden, unfamiliar pressure, pain beginning in his nostrils, until he was forced to release his humor in a snort that he tried to pretend was full of derision.
Hermione, tipsy as she was, giggled and began to hum along with the song playing over the wireless. Wisely, she chose not to comment on his poorly-masked amusement.
"This is a great song," she said loudly between lyrics.
Severus ignored her smile and took a deep breath.
"It was my favorite in sixth year," she commented, still singing merrily.
Severus hummed with disinterest, flicking away a small white mouse.
"Do you want to dance with me?" Hermione leaned close, her breath fanning across his cheek.
"Don't be ridiculous," he sneered.
She sighed, touching her forehead to his shoulder momentarily. "Pomona, a dance?"
Sprout grinned, patting Snape heartily on the back. "Absolutely!"
Together the women made their way to the dance floor, and after a short debate, decided Hermione should lead. They spun and dipped and laughed along with all the other drunken fools. Even if Granger was exceptionally pretty when she twirled. Perhaps if he had a few more drinks…
Mrs. Norris brushed against his leg and stared, unblinking, up at him as he took the first of many drinks. He could feel the disapproval in her gaze.
"What are you looking at?" he growled, quickly gulping down another one.
The End.