"I'm sorry!"

A vase flew through the air and skimmed past Harry Potter's head, shattering on the wall behind him.

"I bet you are," spat Severus Snape, picking up a rather large, heavy tome and heaving it at his lover. Harry dodged, but the window behind him wasn't as lucky.

"Poetry," said Snape disgustedly. "You wrote that fake little bitch poetry. You never write me poetry!"

"You hate poetry!"

"So?" Snape demanded. "At least I could've laughed at the stupidity of it!"

"You're not being rational!"

"Don't tell me I'm not being rational, Potter," snarled Severus, his nostrils flaring. "I'm being a hell of a lot more rational than you were when you were drooling over that--that Mary Sue! You hugged Voldemort!"

Harry made a horrified noise deep in his throat. "Don't remind me of it!"

"You wept on Voldemort's shoulder and said he was just misunderstood!"

Harry looked outraged. "Well, at least I was under Chantilly Ecst--Rutherford's influence! And I didn't even join him! What's your excuse?"

This time, the book that Severus threw hit Harry square in face. There was a snapping of bone, and Potter yipped.

"You bhoke my phose!" he shouted, raising a hand to his face to stop the bleeding.

"I'm never going to forgive you, you bastard!" hissed Snape, storming out the door and slamming it behind him.

It opened a moment later.

"These are my rooms, Potter--you get out!" Snape motioned wildly at the door.

Sniffing pathetically and then snorting on blood, Harry slowly walked towards the door, looking rather like a kicked puppy.

Snape wasn't moved, and slammed the door behind him. It hit Harry's rear and sent him stumbling into the wall opposite him.

"Serves you right, Potter," hissed Snape contentedly.


"I'm sorry, Hermione! I'm so sorry!"

"I bet you are," she hissed, baring her teeth. A nearby snifter went sailing past Draco Malfoy's head and slammed into the portrait behind him, which huffed in indignation.

"Children today," the rather hefty, brunette man said, shaking his head. He quickly vacated the frame.

"Poetry!" continued Hermione, heaving a silver candlestick at Malfoy's chest. He ducked and it impaled itself in the wall.

Blaise Zabini sighed disgustedly and crossed his legs. "Shouldn't we be trying to stop them?" he demanded of Millicent Bulstrode. She, Crabbe, and Goyle all shook their heads.

"No. It's entertaining to watch a Malfoy get verbally abused by a mudblood."

"True."

"You wrote her poetry!" continued Hermione, spittle flying from her mouth. "You've never even written me a love letter!"

"I can write you poetry if you want, Hermione!"

Hermione snorted. "Your grammar is awful--I don't want your poetry!"

"Hermione! Please, come to your senses! I was--"

"My senses?" she shrieked. "MY senses? What about you and Chantilly? I didn't see any sense in how you behaved with her!" With an inarticulate cry, she hurled the nearest object (a rather nicely sized glass clock) at Draco's chest. He stumbled backwards at the force of impact.

"My senses," she repeated, suddenly calmer. "Draco, do you recall that one time in the Great Hall where Chantilly sat you, your mother, and your father down on a couch and made all of you cry over family problems?"

"Don't remind me!" screeched Draco, horrified.

"You promised to go make daisy chains with each other as a bonding activity!"

Blaise, Bulstrode, Crabbe, and Goyle all exploded into snickers, and didn't even stop when Draco sent a death glare in their direction.

"Can we move this out of the common room?" he demanded, balling his hands into fists.

"No!" snapped Hermione. "We're not moving this anywhere--this discussion is over!"

Turning on her heels, she stomped angrily out of the Slytherin common room, leaving silence in her wake.

Finally, Pansy Parkinson spoke.

"I wouldn't verbally abuse you, Draco."

"Shut up!"


The potions classroom was shadowy and quiet, the only noise being the scratching of a quill on parchment, which came from the desk at the front of the room.

Severus Snape scowled and threw Neville Longbottom's (dreadful) essay to the side and began to study the next one. His scowl deepened. Chantilly Ecstasy Blossom Rutherford's perfectly formed calligraphic letters stared up at him mockingly.

Crumpling the parchment up and pulling out his wand, he threw it into the air and shouted a fire spell. The essay burst into flames and, by the time it touched the stone floor, was no more than ash.

"Chantilly E--I mean, Anna's?"

Snape slowly tilted his head towards the doorway, where Hermione stood, glaring at the pile of ashes.

"Why, yes, Miss Granger, it is. Did you talk to Draco?"

"Yes," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and walking closer to the desk.

"And what did he say?" asked Snape, crossing out an entire paragraph on Ronald Weasley's paper and throwing it on top of Longbottom's.

"That he was sorry--" She made an angry sound deep in her throat. "--and that I should 'come to my senses'."

Snape snorted. "That's almost exactly what Harry said. Though, really, I do believe that you and I were more rational than either one of them."

"That's what I told him!" she bit out.

Snape sneered at Justin Flitch-Fletchley's essay, marked it with a barely passing grade, and threw it aside.

"Are you going to forgive him, Professor?" asked Hermione suddenly. She looked at him earnestly, and her indecision shone in her eyes.

Snape paused and hung his head after a moment of thought. "Yes, Granger," he said, setting his quill to the side. "Yes, I am."

She smiled slightly. "Hermione. My name is Hermione, not Granger."

"Hermione," he said slowly. He hesitated. "And I'm . . . Severus. But if you ever call me that in public Gryffindor will be in negative points, do you understand?!"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, sir. Severus. Nice name. Latin, is it? Means severe, or strict?"

"Yes. And Hermione is from Shakespeare, correct?"

"The Winter's Tale, but it was originally in Greek Mythology." She smiled, suddenly intensely focused. "Thank you, Severus. I'm not sure I could've ever gotten rid of Chant--I mean, Anna, without your help. But now our lives are back to normal. Even Voldemort is back to plotting."

"Good," breathed Snape. It sounded odd to actually be praising Voldemort's devious ways, but the sense of normalcy that came with it was more than satisfying. But there was one thing missing . . . "But don't speak the name!"

Hermione laughed and leaned across the desk. "Thank you, Severus." Placing a sloppy kiss square on Snape's lips, she quickly pulled away and exited the room.

Snape blinked and touched his mouth.

Shaking his head, he sighed. "Odd, odd year."

-

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Author's Note: No, its honestly not Hermione/Severus, but I do happen to like that couple, so I included the last part. But, the pairings really are Harry/Severus and Draco/Hermione.

So, there's only the epilogue left. :)

Anna