A/N: A great big thanks to all my reviewers so far – glad you're liking it. This chapter was a little harder to write, so hopefully it isn't substandard. Just one or two more chapters, I think – hopefully I'll get them out within a week. Enjoy!
News and rumors at Hogwarts tended to spread like wildfire. If students were caught snogging in the Astronomy Tower, for instance, the whole school was guaranteed to hear about it in twenty-four hours or less. Thus it was that the points war between Slytherin and Gryffindor perpetuated by the two House Heads was the talk of the Great Hall at dinner.
"Did you hear about Snape and Granger's grudge match? Granger took fifty points from Slytherin during Transfiguration today! Kinda makes me glad I'm a Ravenclaw. Hey, Barney, pass me the carrots," Ravenclaw fifth-year prefect Jeremy Banks said as he shoveled mashed potatoes onto his plate.
Barney Norton nodded enthusiastically as he handed his classmate the carrot dish. "Of course we've heard about it. It's kind of hard not to hear about it when the Gryffindors and Slytherins are bitching so loud in the halls that you can't hear yourself think. Not that I blame them, I mean, I'd be bitching too if some psycho teacher had a blood vendetta against my House… though I daresay the Slytherins deserve it, whiny little blue-blooded prats always lording their so-called superiority over everyone else, kinda nice to see them get some of their own back, the little pissants -"
"Barney! You're rambling again," Jeremy interrupted, now spooning large quantities of carrots on his plate. "And besides, Snape's been hideously unfair for years. It's about time someone started beating him at his own game. I'm just glad I'm not caught in the crossfire."
"Yeah, Snape was really awful to the Gryffindors in Potions today, even more than usual," piped up third-year Thomas Constable. "He took sixty points from them today, and for dumb stuff, too. He took ten points from Justin Pollack for picking his nose! Justin about died right then and there. He turned an absolutely ghastly shade of puce and wouldn't look at anyone else for the duration of the class. I mean, how embarrassing!"
"Yeah, but Snape could always argue that he was just looking out for the safety of the class," Barney broke in. "After all, what if he'd been leaning over his cauldron? Who knows what effect boogers would have on the potion?"
This earned a great laugh from the boys at the table and not a few disgusted glares from the girls, and the house war was forgotten in lieu of a scintillating debate regarding the magical properties of mucus.
The other faculty members, however, were less than amused at the antics of their two colleagues. Headmistress McGonagall in particular was not pleased about the behavior of her successor and Professor Snape. She sat at the High Table, picking reticently at her roast beef, lips pursed and refusing to look at either Severus or Hermione, who had chosen seats at opposite ends of the table.
"Minerva?" Deputy Headmaster Filius Flitwick, Professor of Charms and Head of Ravenclaw, glanced worriedly at his old friend. "Minerva, you're barely eating anything… do you feel all right?"
"No, I don't feel all right!" she snapped, causing tiny Flitwick to jump in surprise at her sudden vehemence. She sighed impatiently and shoved her plate away from her. "I'm sorry, Filius, I shouldn't have snapped at you… but I am sick to death of this! Two of my staff behaving like puerile third-years! In all my years of teaching I have never seen anything this ridiculous! I am all for friendly House rivalry, Filius; you know that. Hell, I know Severus can be unfair, but I never had a real problem with him in all my years as Head of Gryffindor, and I know Hermione fairly well – she was remarkably mature even as a student. I don't understand, Filius! I respect them both and I know they respect me, but I just don't understand this animosity," she gave a defeated sigh and turned towards her colleague.
Flitwick shifted in his seat to better face McGonagall. "Perhaps, Minerva, you understand the problem better than you think," he said calmly. Her puzzled expression prompted him to elaborate. "Well, you know they respect you, and vise-versa. But I think the root of the problem lies in their hostility for each other. You know Severus never liked Hermione when she was a student here, and I'm sure the dislike was reciprocated. You know that he disliked Potter and his friends above even the other Gryffindors. And, well, perhaps he's just having trouble accepting her as his equal. And you know Hermione's stubborn streak probably better than I do. Once she has something in her mind, she'll stop at nothing to see it through – I guess she's bound and determined to make Severus see the error of his ways, or else drain all house points from Slytherin in the process," Flitwick explained.
McGonagall snorted. "Talk about a lost cause. Well, as usual, Filius, you're probably right. However, this cannot be allowed to continue. I've heard the Gryffindors and Slytherins in the halls – they're positively mutinous, Filius. I'll just have to have a little chat with our two squabbling colleagues and see if I can't put an end to this nonsense once and for all. A few more days of this and there won't be any points to take away from either House. Excuse me, Filius – and thank you again for your advice," McGonagall nodded to Flitwick and rose from the table.
Severus sliced viciously at his roast beef, taking delight in maiming it beyond recognition. Gods, he couldn't get her out of his mind! He wasn't sure he'd ever had the dubious pleasure of encountering someone so singularly frustrating. Slytherin had now dropped well below Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, putting it in close contention with Gryffindor for the honor of dead last. And to think that but two days ago visions of a third consecutive House Cup graced my dreams. So much for that. One more fantasy shot all to hell. But I'm – stab – not – stab – BITTER or anything! He stabbed his beef one last time for good measure and shoved the mutilated mess away from him in disgust. Professor Sprout, sitting on his right, glanced from the remnants of his dinner to his scowling face and clucked in disapproval. He shot her his iciest glare. Your House hasn't just seen its Cup dreams go down in a fiery blaze, so don't cluck at me, you nattering old biddy, he thought crossly. He heard insistent footsteps making their way towards him and he groaned inwardly. Whoever it was, he was not in a mood to talk –
"Severus." Headmistress McGonagall stood before him imperiously, fixing her sternest glare on him. Oh God.
"Minerva," he responded guardedly. He was about to ask her why she was looming over him and why she was glaring at him like he was a troublemaking fifth-year when she leaned over the table, her eyes boring into his. Uh oh, that's her worst Glare of Displeasure. This can't be good.
"Severus, this foolishness with Hermione is going to stop. You will meet me in my office at eight o' clock to discuss this matter," she said curtly. What? He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a glare.
"Not a word of complaint, Severus, and this is not a request. You will be in my office at eight o' clock. Understood?"
God, she could make him feel like a thirteen-year-old. "Yes," he mumbled.
She allowed herself a thin-lipped smile. "Good," she said, and marched out of the Hall. Severus scowled after her, pointedly ignoring Sprout's unsubtle curiosity. Certain he was in for a headache later, he rose from the table and strode out of the Hall, down to retrieve a pain-numbing potion from his private stores.
"William Wallace."
Severus supposed McGonagall's penchant for naming her passwords after famous Scots was more keeping with the dignity of the Headmaster's office than Dumbledore's candy references had been. However, he had been quite misty-eyed when, upon entering the office for the first time since Dumbledore's passing, he had not said 'Fizzing Whizbees' or something foolish like that. I miss you, you crazy old codger.
He trudged up the spiral staircase and emerged through the door into McGonagall's office. The Headmistress was seated behind her desk, looking stern as ever, and Hermione Granger sat stiffly in one of the two guest chairs. Severus froze. McGonagall hadn't said anything about her being there too!
McGonagall gestured impatiently at the other seat. "Do sit down, Severus. The gaping fish look does not become you." Hermione stifled a snicker as Severus glowered at McGonagall.
"I'm not in the mood for idle chitchat, so I'll get straight to the point. You both know why you're here. This ludicrous business has got to stop. You are acting like children, and your Houses are suffering for your juvenility. Do you understand me?"
Severus and Hermione nodded and murmured their assent, neither of them able to shake the feeling that they were once again students being brought to task by their teacher.
"Good. Now perhaps you can explain to me why this incident got out of control in the first place," McGonagall said, folding her hands onto the table before her.
Hermione sat, shifting uncomfortably before the steely glare of her former professor and current boss. It was a reasonable question – how exactly had this spiraled into such a brutal competition? Of course, she had wanted to give Severus a taste of his own medicine, and she had been naïve not to expect him to respond. But that look in his eyes when she had confronted him by the hourglasses – it was priceless, seeing him so flustered and speechless. And she still felt that nagging something that she had first become aware of when staring into his eyes, and that something, whatever it was, liked pressing his buttons and getting under his skin. She had observed him at dinner from the opposite end of the table, angrily mauling his beef to bits, and it gave her a thrill to know that she was responsible for his state of turmoil. She decided to test the waters.
"I thought it was about time that someone threw Severus' blatant favoritism and bias back in his face," she proclaimed. "I was sick and tired of losing the House Cup to Slytherin every year because their Head of House cheats his way to victory. Nice moral code you're reinforcing in your House, by the way, Severus," she pressed further.
Severus' eyes widened at her accusations. "My disciplinary methods are not for you to question! And I resent your implication that I encourage cheating in my House! Nothing could be further from the truth! I -" He never got the chance to finish his thought.
"ENOUGH!" roared McGonagall. "I can see that trying to get the two of you to see eye to eye requires far more patience than I currently possess, and frankly, I don't give much of a damn. But this points war will stop, and it will stop now. In fact, I am forthwith suspending your right to take points from each other's House -"
This declaration was met with outraged cries from both parties. "How am I supposed to keep order -" "That's hardly fair, Minerva -"
"SILENCE!" McGonagall was one step from furious, and it showed in her face. Severus and Hermione obeyed without question.
"I am suspending your right to take points from the other's House -" her eyes dared them to challenge her – "and if I hear from students that either of you is behaving in an overly discriminatory manner towards students of the other's House, you will answer to me. Do I make myself clear?" McGonagall was at her most imperious, and neither of them dared to question her. They grudgingly agreed.
"Good. I don't want to hear any more of this foolish nonsense. You are dismissed," she said primly. Warily, Severus and Hermione rose, Severus practically rushing to get to the door before Hermione. They descended the staircase and exited into the corridor. He turned his back to the door and proceeded towards the dungeons.
"Severus."
He froze. Gods almighty, what did she want? He turned slowly, not bothering to hide the venom in his features. "What?" he snapped archly.
She noted his discomfort with pleasure as she approached him. "I think you heard Minerva's warning as well as I did," she began innocently.
"I damn well heard every word she said! What in the seven hells is your point?" he snarled.
She arched an eyebrow at him. "My my, testy, aren't we?"
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Out with it, woman! Stop wasting my time!"
She allowed a ghost of a smile to flit across her face. "Oh? Wasting your time, am I?" She was very close to him now. Close enough to smell his Irish Spring.
His mind reeled with anger. She's playing with me like a goddamned cat with a toy! She's taunting me! She dares to treat me flippantly like a child – oh. Is that her hair that smells like peaches? My…He realized that he had been staring at her, transfixed, for several seconds, his witty retort dead in his throat. She smelled divine. And didn't look too shabby, either. Maybe she wasn't Venus, but he sure as hell wasn't Adonis. She had quite lovely eyes, he decided, and her complexion was a lovely creamy shade, nicely suited to her chocolaty curls of hair that fell down around her face in gently tendrils, framing her high cheekbones and her full lips – whoa. Whoa, Severus. Down, boy.
She watched him gaze at her, biting back a snarky comment as she looked in his eyes. He was staring at her with an enraptured expression on his face – apparently he liked was he was seeing. This sent a small thrill along Hermione's nerves. She returned his appraisal. He really was kind of good looking in a brooding Victorian Gothic sort of way. His long black hair, his angular features, even his prominent nose – somehow, it all suited him. Maybe he wasn't Gilderoy Lockhart, but hell. She'd take substance over style any day. Wait! What in the hell am I thinking? I don't fancy Severus! Err… don't I?
Suddenly they came to the mutual realization that they had been standing close enough to brush together, staring at each other for the past few minutes. He turned away sharply and she cleared her throat.
"If you are done wasting my time, Hermione, I have other things I would like to do tonight. Excuse me," and with that, he strode off towards the dungeons. He rather needed to remove himself from her presence as soon as possible, before she noticed, er, anything amiss.
Hermione glared at his retreating form, her previous thoughts of him giving way to ire. Wasting his time? He had been the one who had stared at her all googly-eyed for five minutes! She, wasting his time? The nerve! She felt her blood boiling beneath her skin.
"You insufferable bastard!" she spat, whirling around and stalking towards Gryffindor Tower.
She did not see the contented smile that spread across his face at her words as he marched off to his rooms. To his delight, he passed two blushing Hufflepuff fourth-years huddled into an alcove (a rather unsubtle spot to snog, he thought, but that's Hufflepuff for you) and docked thirty points from their House.
The chastened Hufflepuffs, returning to their common room, wondered why Professor Snape had been walking so strangely.