Written for bluestocking and beta'ed by Dacian Goddess.

No money is made with this.


It was there, sitting alone in the middle of the plate, taunting them with its dark brown coat. Who would win the race and get to it first?

The tension in the room was palpable. Severus's eyes darted ceaselessly from Hermione's hand to the last slice of chocolate cake, calculating how to thwart her. Hermione was probably going through elaborated Arithmantic equations in her mind to determine the shortest way from her hand to the cake.

They struck at the same moment and smashed the slice of cake. They had to settle for licking the crumbs off each other's hands.