Much thanks to my editor, Gwen McCormick, and to my dear friend DUJ. All mistakes are mine. Obviously, I am not JKR and am making nothing from this.

The Course of True Love

Chapter 13

November 1998

"Assistant Professor Granger?" Assistant Professor Neville Longbottom called out as he entered the Transfiguration classroom. "I was wondering if you could do a favor for me?"

"What is it, Neville?"

"Well, Professor Snape has assigned me to chaperone this weekend's quidditch match, but I was hoping you'd swap duty with me. It's Hannah's birthday this weekend, and, well, I'd like to spend the day with her."

Hermione frowned. "But, Neville, Ron is coming to visit Saturday, too, and-"

"Yeah, but Ron likes quidditch, and Hannah doesn't."

"I'm not overly fond of it myself," she retorted.

"I know that, Hermione, but, well, you and Ron are already engaged." He looked at her with great, big eyes and blushed to the roots of his hair. "Hannah, well, I fancy her like mad."

Hermione couldn't help but soften. "Does she know how you feel?"

He looked horrified. "No, I, I, I haven't got the nerve to tell her, not yet. I was going to get Seamus to talk to her for me.

"Oh, Neville," Hermione said, "what happened to all that confidence you had during the Final Battle? For Merlin's sake! You stood up to Voldemort!"

"Yeah," he smiled shyly, "but I wasn't in love with him."

"What a horrible thought!" she exclaimed with a laugh.

"So, you'll do it for me then? Chaperone the match?"

"Oh, all right," she told him, "but you'll owe me."

"And you'll tell Professor Snape for me?" he added. "I mean, you weren't here last year, Hermione, so you don't know just how horrible he was." He waved off her protest. "I know he was playing the double agent, but he went too far! And to tell you the truth, he still scares the pants off me sometimes!"

"And just what do you mean by that, Longbottom?" Snape drawled out the name with disgust. Like a ghost, he glided silently across the floor until he stood looming over the young man.

Neville shot straight up out of his seat, turning the chair over in the process. "N-n-nothing, Sir," the boy stammered.

Although Neville was of an equal height with him, Snape still gave the impression of looking down his nose at the young wizard. Slowly, the older man took a step closer into Neville's personal space and was now standing chest to chest with him.

Neville was sweating bullets. He licked his lips and took a step backward.

"Severus, stop!" Hermione ordered. "You're intimidating him!"

Again, Snape closed the gap between them, and with the sudden strike of a snake, he gripped the young man by the front of his robes, shoved him backward, and slammed him against the wall. "Is this the brave Gryffindor," he hissed mockingly, "who wielded the sword of Godric Gryffindor?"

"Leave him alone, Severus!" Hermione shouted.

"Y-y-yes," Neville whispered.

"Y-y-yes," Snape mocked him. "The same young hero who slew Nagini?"

"I did," Neville admitted softly. He clenched his jaw.

"Is this the man who dared defy Lord Voldemort himself?" Snape scoffed. "And he's afraid of me?" He threw back his head and roared with laughter.

Neville's face burned with anger. "Get off me!" he shouted, shoving Snape backwards. Then, before he could even think, the young wizard struck out and punched his antagonist in the nose.

Snape reeled backwards, clutching his newly broken nose. Blood poured down his robes, but the older wizard only smiled. It was a true smile, a smile of pride and satisfaction.

"Sir!" Neville cried. "I shouldn't have hit you. I should never have hit you." He reached into his robes, pulled out a clean handkerchief, and offered it to the older wizard.

Snape's eyes flickered to the white cloth fluttering in Longbottom's hand. "Surrendering?" The words, coming through his broken nose, sounded muffled, but there was still a sarcastic tone.

Neville returned Snape's smile. "No, sir," he replied evenly, "just a peace offering, a truce." The young man shrugged. "I didn't apologize." His smile grew wider. "I just shouldn't have allowed you to goad me into it."

Taking the white cloth, Snape held it to his face, pinching his nose. "If Professor Granger has agreed to exchange weekend duties with you," Snape mumbled through the fabric, "there should be no problem with your leaving campus so long as you've cleared it with Professor Sprout."

"Thank you, Sir," Neville said. "Um, perhaps I should escort you to Madame Pomfrey."

"Why?" the older man asked acidly. "I am not an invalid."

Neville chuckled. "No, sir, you're not, but I did break your nose-"

"You're not the first to do so!" Snape declared with a huff of amusement.

"No, sir," Neville told him with a grin, "but I need to take responsibility for my actions." He reached to take the Potions Master by the elbow.

Snape growled. "I am not going anywhere. Send Poppy to me."

"Whatever you'd like, sir," Neville said and left the room.

"I don't understand," Hermione mumbled. She turned and glared at Severus in utter confusion. "What just happened here?"

He mopped at his nose again. "Do you remember when I told you that you and others hampered Longbottom's progress? Instead of helping the boy, the lot of you allowed him to become lazy."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a moment," Hermione protested. "And what's wrong with helping someone anyway?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

"Nothing," he shot back, throwing the red, sodden cloth onto her desk, "but at some point you have to stop helping and allow the other person to do for himself. It's simply human nature. The more you do for someone, the less inclined they are to do for themselves."

"But poor Neville," she said earnestly, "look what he's been through. Don't you think he deserves some sympathy? Neville didn't have a mother or father available. His only parental figures were his great-uncle Algie and his grandmother." She shook her head.

Wearily, Severus sat down at her desk and looked up at her through already-blackening eyes. "Many others have had it much worse," he told her. "The boy had enough food to eat, clean clothes to wear. He had a loving family and many friends. There was no reason to pity him, but everyone he's met has felt sorry for him, leaving him to wallow in his own pity-party."

"Well, maybe," she conceded. "There are plenty of others who've had tough breaks, and compared to them, Neville's had it easy. But why do you have to be so hard on him?"

"Because the world's a tough place!" he shot back. "Surely by now, you've learned that! If Longbottom kept sitting back, believing himself a victim, and letting others do everything for him or worse letting them run roughshod over him – Well, what kind of man would that make him? Hmm?"

Hermione tilted her head to the side and gave him a look of amazement. "How do you do that?" she asked softly. "How do you take everything I thought I understood and turn it around?" She paused and shook her head. "And why did you have to push him so far?" she complained. "He broke your poor nose!"

"Two reasons, Hermione." Severus chuffed a laugh. He held up one finger. "Mr. Longbottom is a capable wizard, very capable, but he won't rise to his potential unless he's forced to it." A second finger joined the first. "When he first arrived at Hogwarts, his grandmother asked it of me." He smirked at her look of shock.

"And as always, you agreed to be the scapegoat," Hermione murmured.

"Severus Snape!" Mediwitch Poppy Pomfrey shouted as she marched into the room. "What have you done now? Neville says he broke your nose!" She arched a graying brow and cackled.

"Not exactly," Hermione told her. "Neville was talking about quidditch when Severus walked in – you know how quietly he moves – Anyway, Neville got carried away with the conversation and-" She smiled and shrugged.

Severus raised a brow, cocked his head, and smirked. Such an obvious lie, he laughed to himself.

"Um-Hum," Poppy muttered. She cast several healing charms and stood back. "This one is going to heal slowly, Severus," she said. "Your poor nose has been broken, what? Three times now?"

"Four."

She grunted. "Well, you'll need to keep ice on it tonight. No cooling charms, they'll interfere with my work. And you can't referee the match tomorrow. Don't give me that look, young man! You can sit in the stands and chaperone like the others, but you absolutely cannot be on the field."

He stood, clutching the ice pack to his face. "Thank you, Poppy," he said softly. "If you ladies will excuse me?"

SHSHSHSHSH

"Hi, 'mione," Ron said cheerfully. He kissed her on the cheek and settled into the bleacher seat next to her. He leaned forward to see Severus Snape on the other side and nodded a greeting at the Professor.

"Hello, Ron," Hermione returned happily. "I'm so glad you were understanding about-"

"Helping you chaperone a quidditch match?" He grinned at her, his blue eyes twinkling. "Of course, I don't mind. I love the game." His eyes turned to scan the field.

Hermione returned his smile, reached for his hand, and squeezed it. "This will give Neville a chance to talk with Hannah. He's serious about her, you know."

Ron nodded, then ducked his head to whisper in her ear. "Say, is it true that Neville took a crack at old Snape?"

"What?" Hermione hissed. "No, it's not true, and it's Professor Snape, Ron."

"Ginny said that Nev popped the old bat a good one, broke his nose."

"He is not an 'old bat!' And that's just a lot of gossip," she insisted shrilly. "Professor Snape is one of the most intelligent instructors at Hogwarts. He's highly respected in his field. In fact, did you know he's the premier potioneer in the UK?"

"Uh, huh," Ron grunted. "Well, I heard Neville finally got revenge on your 'premier potioneer' and knocked him out for the way he treated everyone last year."

"I'll have you know," she retorted angrily, pitching her voice low, "Severus was under a great deal of stress last year. He was trying to keep everyone safe from-"

"Yeah, Hermione," Ron said with a snort, "but you haven't talked with Ginny about how things really were, so don't try to sugarcoat him."

Hermione simply stared at him for a long time. "You're wrong, Ron," she insisted, holding up her hand to stop his reply. "However, in the interest of stopping a lot of ugly rumors - Neville was talking to me about quidditch. He got wound up, and Professor Snape walked into-"

"I get the picture," Ron replied. He leaned back to get a better look at the older wizard's crooked nose and started laughing. "Wish I'd seen that," he told Hermione quietly. "Neville flailing his arms around and – Smack! The Greasy Git runs right into it."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Hermione jerked her hand away from his. "That's not funny at all."

He shrugged. "Okay, okay," he replied. "Just settle down. Look," he added, jerking his head to the left, "why don't we go sit over there, yeah?"

"This is my assigned area," she replied. "Professor Snape and I are supposed to supervise this section of the stadium."

"Drew the short straw and got stuck with him, huh?" Ron nodded with understanding. He took her hand. "Hey, you want some popcorn?"

"Quiet!" Snape growled at Ron. He glared at the younger man, making it clear that he'd heard the entire conversation. "The game has started."

"Sorry," Hermione said with a blush as she nudged Ron with her elbow. "Ron, that was rude," she hissed. With a sighed at his look of confusion, she tried another track. "Ron, guess what I've got?"

"– Hey! Did you see that, 'mione?" he shouted, pointing towards the snitch that Professor Hooch had just released. "It shot straight up, twenty, thirty feet! Whoa!" he screamed. "And where did Hufflepuff get that crazy offense? That's another score for them!" His eyes never left the field.

"Ron," she said, "I have two tickets to see the Royal Ballet this December."

"Yeah? That's great," he remarked. "Get him! Get him!"

She smiled. "It is great," she answered. "The tickets are nearly impossible to get. So, you'll go with me? To see The Nutcracker?"

"What?" Ron turned to face her, his face filled with horrified shock. "The what?"

"The Royal Ballet," she answered. "I have two tickets to see The Nutcracker."

"No," he said quickly. Then, alerted by the screaming crowd, he turned his attention back to the field. "Go! Go! Oi! Did you see that?" He shook her arm. "I don't know what's gotten into Hufflepuff, but they are killing Ravenclaw!"

"Ron!" Hermione cried with irritation. "That's it? Just a blank 'no'?"

Ron turned to face her. "Look, I just don't go for things like that, ballets and operas and all." He shrugged. "Heck, the name alone is enough to make a guy- Look, I'll take you Christmas shopping, I promise, but-" Seeing how hurt she was, he patted her hand. "Aw, just get someone else to go with you, all right?"

"All right, Ron," she said with a sigh. "But you'll take me Christmas shopping?"

"Sure, yeah, Hey! Did you see that? Ravenclaw had better stop sitting on their brooms, or this is going to be a shut out! Bloody hell, but that was a brilliant play!" He sat back down, leaned over, and hugged her. "It's good that you're following the game because our boys are gonna play quidditch, you know. In fact, I'm hoping we have enough boys for our own team, you know?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. "There are seven players on a quidditch team, Ron," she gasped. "I don't want seven children!"

"I thought you wanted kids, Hermione," he asked angrily, turning his full attention to her.

"I do," she responded quickly, "two or three, four at the most, but seven? No."

"And just what's wrong with seven kids?" he demanded indignantly. "My mum had seven kids!" A sudden roar exploded from the stands as the audience shot to their feet. Ron whipped around wildly and jumped to his feet. "What happened? Hey!" He bolted to his feet, pulling Hermione up. "Oi! Snape, what happened?"

Severus pulled his gaze from the field and eyed the younger wizard evenly. "Ravenclaw," he drawled, "simultaneously scored and captured the snitch."

"They won?" he shouted. "You mean that Ravenclaw won, and I missed it?"

"It would appear there are several things you've missed," Snape remarked coolly. "Professor Granger, would you walk with the students back to the castle? I'll stay behind and make sure everyone has left." He took a step forward. "Excuse me, Mr. Weasley," Snape growled. "You're blocking the steps."

Ron grimaced as the Slytherin moved forward. "No, problem." He stepped back. "After you," he bowed. "You know, 'age before beauty' and all that." He grinned cheekily at the older wizard.

Severus Snape glared at the younger wizard. "I believe what you meant to say was 'pearls before swine'," he quipped and left first.