A/N

Apparently, I'm evicted from House Snailindor on cause of being too slow. I now belong in the house of the slime that sticks to the ground after a snail has passed by. Charming.

I might add more to this chapter later because I find I'm not exactly terrific at dividing them evenly. If I do, you probably won't recieve an alert, but I'll add a note the next time I update a full chapter so that you can go back if you want to.

The morning on January fifth brought the heaviest snowfall over Hogwarts that year and the corner room beside the teacher's entrance to the Great Hall was cold and damp.

Severus had opened the door just enough to spy the students who had signed up for Hern's duelling club as they made their way to the house tables, which were set aside to clear the space in the centre of the room. They were lively and he had sent off more than one subtle stinging hex in the direction of those who were brawling to get to the front seats. It was always a hassle when they had to gather all sets, but Filius had promised to be there to help keep them all in line while he and Hern were busy.

The last time he had taught a class in the Great Hall was when his Slytherins had to learn the waltz in preparation for the Triwizard Tournament Yule Ball some sixteen years ago.

It had not been his most stellar moment as a teacher. He was far too self-conscious to be able to dance confidently, least of all with a bunch of giggling, hormonal teenagers, and unlike Filius, he simply did not possess that artistic flair. There was no reason to believe that he would fare better this time around, but at the very least, it was unlikely that Hern harboured a desire to burn up the dance floor with him.

Even Hermione was inside. He could make out her white healers' uniform next to Longbottom with Rose in between them.

To think that it was was only a small week ago that he had woken up with that very same body resting against his side…

He had been aroused by a sharp pain in his back that night. It had been too dark to tell what time it was and he had been about to get up to check on Rose when he realised that the warm weight in his lap was Hermione's head of bushy brown hair. Apparently, she must have decided to have a biscuit before waking him and then she must have nodded off, sliding down onto his thigh.

It was not an everyday experience for him and he was ill equipped to deal with it. Not only had there been a woman asleep next to him, but one who was kind, and beautiful, and whose hair was wild and eyes were warm, and her sweet scent made the toes curl in his boots and sent shivers up his spine and he could feel the heat coming off her…

And she was so way out of his league that it was nearly ridiculous.

Naturally, he had fled, carefully extracting his leg and leaving a conjured pillow in exchange before apparating home. Then, he had spent the best part of a week avoiding her. Coward.

He blinked a few times, trying to make out her expression from across the room, but he hadn't put his glasses on so she looked a little fuzzy. He was still feeling a little gun-shy, unsure where exactly he stood in her affections, and he had to wonder what she was doing there.

Had she come to watch him lose or to watch Hern win?

Was he perhaps wrong to put so little faith in her?

"Assessing the crowds?"

It was a surprise that he would come this way. Severus had expected him to arrive at the main entrance with fanfare, but perhaps he wasn't the only one who was a little on edge after all.

He turned to take in his adversary, who looked disappointingly ordinary with only a pair of Auror-grade combat boots as a change from his usual appearance. Either way, the occasion called for at least some degree of formality and Severus nodded politely.

"Professor Hern."

"Cavan," grumbled Hern. He shouldered past Severus to peek through the doorway. A minute passed before he spoke again, seemingly more to himself than to Severus, "They've been so rowdy in class lately…"

"I've noticed." Severus took a step back to lean against the wall, noting that Hern seemed a little hunched compared to his typical poise. "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts?"

Hern scoffed absent-mindedly. "Not because of you, if that's what you think."

"No?"

He retreated from the door and turned towards Severus with a frown on his face. "You want to know why?"

"Why, yes. I'm supposed to assist you, am I not?"

"Hm." Hern crossed his arms in front of his chest, giving Severus a measuring look. "I overheard some students in the hall the other day," he said. "They were talking about me."

Severus straightened, noticing for the first time that when they faced off like this, he was a fraction taller than Hern.

"They talk about you all the time."

"I'm sure." He shook his head. "But these girls, they're the shoddiest of my sixth-years, the absolute bottom. Their grades are all over the place."

"Mhm?" Severus shrugged. "Like any other students then."

"No, they're worse," growled Hern. "You wouldn't believe the kind of nonsense they write in their assignments. I'm quite confident they haven't absorbed a single thing I've tried to teach them."

Severus snorted. An upset Cavan Hern was pretty unusual, and he couldn't help but be a little curious. "They sound like normal teenagers to me," he said. "What exactly did they say?"

Hern looked away, seeming to deliberate whether or not to reply. "They said my class is dreadfully boring," he mumbled in the end, "but that at least they had something nice to watch." He gritted his teeth. "They meant my bum."

Severus barked a laugh and Hern shot him a dark look. "I suppose you don't have this problem?"

"Not in the way you describe, I'll admit." Severus huffed. "But few students find Potions interesting. They spend most their energy avoiding me, and then they always have stronger opinions about my hair or nose than they do about the recipes in Advanced Potion Making. Which is baffling, I might add. It's a severely flawed text."

"You should write your own then." Hern sighed. "It would be a better use of your time. These kids are far too hare-brained to appreciate our efforts in any case." He cast an arm towards the Great Hall. "I've been wondering if there's any point to this duelling club at all. Will anyone of them even learn a single thing?"

Severus held still for a moment before replying. To experience an existential crisis halfway through the first term as a teacher was common, but Hern had never asked his opinion before. Severus could not have guessed that he would care for it at all, but the question had come out so natural that he felt certain it was genuine.

"They never learn quite in the way that you imagined," he said at last, "but that doesn't mean your teaching is lost on them. Perhaps they just need a few years to digest it."

"A few years, hm?" Hern chuckled. "That's…" He peered up at Severus with a contemplative look. "This is probably true." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed before going back to watch the students through the gap in the door. "Well, at least they're excited about it."

"They're kids. They're always excited about something."

"I suppose." Hern shut the door silently. "I appreciate the advice, Severus," he said, "though I take due note that you're not an optimist."

"I've been teaching for thirty years, I suppose that has a bearing."

"Maybe." Hern brought out his wand and conjured two small brass goblets. "Or maybe the students are right about you and you're just a grouchy old bat." He used his wand to fill them with an amber liquid and offered one to Severus.

"To valour." Hern brought their glasses together with an air that indicated some of his good mood was restored. "I hope you're prepared to take a hit today." He smirked. "At least I have that to look forward to. You're well and truly outclassed and we all know it."

They emptied their glasses in one go and Severus cleared his throat from the burn. "You sound awfully confident. I want to win this too, you know."

"I'm aware of that." Hern made a whiskey-induced grimace. "I'm not just a pretty exterior."

Severus made a surprised face. "You're sure?"

Hern rolled his eyes. "I'm sure." He looked down at the wand that he was twirling around in his hands. It was a light kind of wood that Severus couldn't identify and looked rather on the flexible side.

"You know our little…rivalry, right?"

Severus felt his scowl return.

"Yes, you do," said Hern. "Don't pretend otherwise because then I might not tell you that I've decided you can have it your way."

"My way?" Severus tried not to sound dumbfounded, but some of that must have seeped into his voice anyway because Hern chortled.

"Yes. Take it however you please, but for the time being I'm in search of other…opportunities."

"You are?" Severus searched Hern's face with a hard eye, but the small smile playing around that pair of well-defined lips was not devoid of humour.

"I am."

The urge to push into Hern's mind was compelling, but Severus knew he faced a great risk of discovery. His legillimency was a little rusty these days and the likelihood that Hern was trained in the art was high. He looked down at his own trusty, old wand, which lay waiting in his hands, feeling a little lost.

From Hern's viewpoint, he should probably feel relieved to have been given a clear pass, but he didn't. The problem had never really been Hern. It was suddenly obvious to him that instead, it was Hermione.

Severus had no idea whatsoever what she felt about Hern. Rose had mentioned that she wasn't overly taken by him, but Rose was only a very small child and he couldn't really expect her to interpret Hermione's feelings correctly in such a matter.

Maybe he ought to ask her outright what she thought about him?

He could do that -as a friend- couldn't he?

He looked up to find that Hern was watching him.

"Right…" He rubbed a hand over his face to clear his thoughts. "But if you're no longer interested, then what are we fighting over?"

"Honour and glory. I'm not through with you yet." Hern's eyes glinted. "She's far too good for you."

He banished their cups and opened the door to the Great Hall. As usual, the ceiling never failed to impress and white-silvery flakes of magical snow floated from the rafters down to about four metres above the floor, where they vanished without melting over the student's heads.

Apparently, Filius had arrived because almost all of them were sitting in reasonable silence along the walls. Severus followed behind Hern to the cleared space and while he addressed the students, Severus turned his head slightly to glance across the room towards the three people who were standing near the exit.

Hermione immediately caught his eye and smiled. He barely had time to give Rose a subtle wave before Hern nudged him in the side.

"Ready, old boy?"

Severus nodded. He wasn't shy about fighting a little dirty, but Hern's bold expression told him that this match would not be about conniving or deceit. Surely, the sorting hat must have had bats in the belfry because the battle between the Slytherin heads seemed set up to be more Gryffindor than Godrick himself.

Or then again, maybe it was his attic that had acquired rats and he was turning Hufflepuff in his old age. The possibility was certainly there.

"First blood or to the death?" he asked Hern in a voice low enough that the student couldn't hear.

Hern chuckled. "Let's just give them their money's worth, hm?" He bowed deeply and with a flourish of his wand let his own cloak fall to the side. "You'll know it when you've lost."

Despite himself, Severus felt his lips twitch. "Fair enough."

They turned their back on one another and counted ten steps. Then, as one, they twisted and the blue light from both of their disarming spells met with a crack and a shower of sparks dead in the centre of the room.

Severus discovered quickly that duelling Hern was not like duelling Potter. Where Potter jumped around dodging spells like a gnat, Hern fought with old-fashioned refinement, relying more on defensive spells than on acrobatics. Although this suited Severus well, Hern was quicker and younger.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!"

Through the flurry of their movements, he could see that Hern's knuckles had turned white around his wand. They remembered their aim to educate at first, but when an arresto momentum whistled past just by his ear, Severus gave up on voicing his incantations aloud.

Within seconds, Hern must have started to use wandless magic, because several candles from above found their way to Severus' coat.

In reply, he cast a strong levicorpus.

Hern blasted it aside. They struggled to disarm.

Then, something hit Severus hard on the side of his chin and a metallic taste filled his mouth. Time seemed to stop and for a moment they just stood there, equally perplexed. They were both breathing hard. Hern's shirt has sweat-marks beneath his arms. Severus' coat had settled awkwardly over his shoulders. He gingerly touched his face and Hern waited, looking like he was debating over what to do next.

As from a great distance, Severus could hear a nearby student ask, "Is it over already?" but then, like it had been planned that way from the very beginning, they both raised their wands anew.

During the short respite, he had spotted Filius' displeased expression a few metres to his right, but Severus didn't care right then. He was determined not to be beaten by the cocky bastard, and equally determined not to allow Hermione to see him fail. The stone floor beneath him was hard and a little slippery and he fought not to let his incantations hit the spectators.

Their spells became more aggressive. Hern had to duck low to avoid a well-aimed impedimenta and Severus managed to hit him on the arm with a sharp stinging hex. Then, a stunner graced his shoulder with a hot flash of pain before it hurled by, like a crackling whirlwind of energy.

The students dissolved into a blur around him. He gripped his wand tightly. When he slashed it through the air, the force from his blasting curse made Hern stumble. Then, a lightning-fast incarcerous came in return, but he managed to twist away from the ropes with a grace his bad arm didn't usually allow. Half a heartbeat later, his tempest jinx hit Hern's shoulder with a sharp hiss and a cloud of light-grey smoke.

He froze, afraid for the fraction of a second that he had gone too far, but Hern's next set of spells were like a hailstorm. It was a shot of spite and grudging admiration to discover that he had changed his wand hand.

The sparks from missed hexes blinded him. He could hear his own rapid breathing. A smell like fireworks or gunpowder made his heart beat quickly. Severus struggled for the upper hand.

All of a sudden, one of his spells flew off in the wrong direction. On instinct, he dived forward and threw the strongest shield in his arsenal, willing it to mould around a fragile-looking first-year on the front bench. The girl's eyes were absurdly large and he distantly noted that her long plaits were the same shade of red as Rose's.

Almost in slow-motion, he watched a shower of sparks crash into his shield and rain down around her. But he barely had time to take in her shocked expression before Hern's next assault forced him to pull back.

He could feel his hand becoming damp where he gripped his wand. His throat and chest ached from the effort. The short end of the room was suddenly close behind him.

Then Hern fired two curses in quick succession. The first one somehow brought Severus down on one knee, the other –cast to hurt- made his left sleeve wet with blood. He was about to twist himself back up, but a magically magnified voice rang loud across the hall and he stilled.

"That's enough! I think you two have quite made your point."

Filius was suddenly standing between them and his expression indicated that perhaps the 'demonstration' had gone a little out of hand. Severus fought to reclaim his breath.

On the other side of Filius, Hern was looking a little dazed. His clothes had scorch marks and there was a bruise high on his forehead. Severus climbed awkwardly to his feet. He knew he didn't fare much better than Hern. Despite the horrid taste in his mouth from where he had bitten the inside of his cheek, he could still smell the blood that trickled from his arm.

Subtly, he folded his hands behind his back, only to face a pair of hard, narrowed eyes from Filius. He looked nothing like a soft-spoken choirmaster when he cast a sound barrier between them and the students.

"This is not what you described in the proposal you gave me, Cavan," he said. "I'm used to a certain degree of obstinacy form Severus, but I never thought that you would be this irresponsible."

Hern winced.

"I will dismiss the students for you as you're both due for a trip to the Infirmary, but this is not the last word we'll be having."

Severus turned to look for Hermione, but the spot she had occupied before was empty and Rose and Longbottom were gone as well. He sighed. She was not an admirer of violence and he feared that her reaction to him losing his head like this might not be sympathetic.

Then again, she would probably be mad at Hern too.

Filius snapped his fingers at him in irritation. "I expect to see the two of you in my office later."

They watched him stalk off towards the teachers' table. The charm around them dissipated with a sharp pop and Hern shifted uneasily. "I hope he doesn't suspend us for endangering the students," he whispered.

Severus almost felt a little bad for him. "Far worse things happens in this school on a regular basis," he said evenly. "I don't think you need to worry."

"Indeed. But oh my, that was…" Hern put a hand on his forehead, ignoring the way the torn buttons on his shirt left half his shoulder exposed. "I got myself a little carried away…"

Severus grunted, clutching a hand over his arm. "You were not the only one," he muttered, voice a little strained. He nodded at Filius. "Let's just get out of here before he feeds us to the thestrals"

"No, really." Hern let his voice fall and scowled at the students who were watching them with wide eyes. "I'm sorry. And I think you should do what he said, actually. Go to the Hospital Wing. That was a nasty severing charm you took."

"It's fine." Severus tried to brush him off, but truthfully, he was a little light-headed. His lower left arm felt like someone had poked a thorny twig into it.

Hern chuckled to himself.

"What?"

"Isn't it ironic?" he said as the door to the Great Hall closed behind them. "Previously I agonised over whether or not the student would learn anything from this, but then we go ahead and do this."

"I could have told you from the beginning." Severus just shook his head. "At least that little girl I nearly hexed will remember."

"She'll remember something, that's for sure." Hern huffed. "Let's hope she doesn't tell her parents. They might file an official complaint."

"I'm sure they will," grunted Severus. "They do that all the time."

"They do?" Hern put a hand on his back as they hobbled through the corridor. "Listen, Seveurs," he said, "I mean it. I admit I wanted to put you in your place, and for a moment there, I felt right good about it too." He steered them firmly away from the Dungeon stairs and towards the first floor. "But that spell, it was unnecessarily harsh. I should have kept to the demonstration."

"Never mind," said Severus. "Your reflexes are quicker than mine. I suppose you won that fair and square."

"You're just out of shape." They had arrived at the Infirmary and Hern opened the large wooden door. "Listen, there's a thing I've neglected to tell you."

"What is it now?" Severus groaned. It felt like he had been yanked around by Hern all day and he was quickly nearing the limit to the amount of exposure he could take in such a short time.

"I lied about the boggart," said Hern. "It was me."

"I know that."

"I know you know, but I wanted to say it anyway." He grinned. "In fact, I feel a great deal better already."

"Indeed," said Severus flatly. He frowned, but Hern placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a little shake.

"I should probably be a bit gentler with you from now on." He made a mischievous face. "You're getting on in years, after all."

Sometime over the course of that day –or perhaps it had even been longer, Severus had not really paid attention until now- something had shifted between them. Still, it seemed as though Hern had entered a competition with Potter over who could annoy him the most.

And he was fast on his way to winning.

"You must be delusional." Severus half turned on him. "You might recall that my hit on you was potentially the most deadly."

"Perhaps." Hern shrugged. "But I got you first. Just remember that although I'm feeling a bit bad about knocking you off your feet right now, it doesn't mean I'll lay off you for ever."

"You are a conceited arse, Hern."

Severus scowled, but even he had to admit that Hern was a decent duellist. And probably also decent in other ways, damn him.

They shared an even look.

"It's Cav," murmured Hern, sounding a little exasperated. "I've told you people numerous times."

Their moment was interrupted by a stern, feminine voice,

"Men. I don't believe you two!"