(A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in this story. I also don't know whether World Poker Tour airs in Britain. However, I'm just having fun with this anyway! Do bear with me and let me know what you think! Please be gentle, as this is my first fanfic.)
Hermione leaned back in her seat, acting pensive as she turned up the corners of the two cards in front of her. She fanned them out slightly, grinning inwardly. Pocket rockets! She glanced through her sunglasses at Harry and Ron, who were waiting to see if she would meet Ron's raise. He was looking pretty confident, even after a decidedly mediocre flop. He must have something in his pocket, as well, because there were no promising straight or flush draws at the moment. Ron looked incredibly silly in his bright green visor, which he had pulled low to cover his eyes. Harry was forced to resort to tinted swim goggles to help hide his expressions.
"All right, Ron, I'll see you." Sighing diffidently, Hermione adjusted her blue-tinted Arnettes -- a birthday indulgence -- and tossed some of Mrs. Weasley's chocolate chip cookies into the center of the kitchen table. Ron smirked evilly, while Harry burned a card and flipped the turn. An eight. Hermione raised an eyebrow as Harry folded, clearly disappointed. Ron was bouncing his leg under the table, a sign of discontent, but he raised the pot anyway. He was trying to bluff Hermione out, she was sure.
"Okay," she said, allowing herself to sound perky. "I'll see you -- and reraise you two." Ron gulped, but was too Gryffindor to chicken out now.
When another ace appeared on the river, Hermione knew she had it in the bag. Ron looked so disappointed when he flipped his pocket eights. He had also had a three of a kind, and Hermione didn't blame him for playing it out to the end. She grinned smugly to herself as she scooped the cookies towards herself, even taking the liberty of eating one.
"'Mione, how do you do it?" Harry whined. "This has to be your tenth win in a row. Mrs. Weasley can't bake enough cookies to help us keep up!" As if his words had summoned her, Mrs. Weasley bustled into the kitchen and began another batch.
"Having fun, children?" she grinned, looking to Hermione's monstrously impressive horde. "I see my cookies are being put to good use, but this next batch is for our guests tonight. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape are coming to see us before they take you to headquarters." Ron paled visibly.
"Why did you have to invite them, Mum?" he groaned. "Professor Snape staring me down -- that's what I need on my last night at home before Christmas Break!" Mrs. Weasley only tutted disapprovingly at him.
"Snape eats cookies?" Harry mouthed at Hermione. She leaned across the table to whisper, "Only when chunks of dead student are baked into them!" Ron, overhearing her, nearly choked on one of his last cookies, although he was probably smart to eat it since Hermione took both of the boys out within a few more hands. Afterwards, she insisted that they try again, redistributing the "chips" to the boys and promising to coach them a bit this time. She did love Texas Holdem!
She'd spent last Christmas break and the first weeks of summer watching reruns of World Poker Tour with her parents, then playing against them. They'd used candy to gamble, assigning value based on the most coveted types. (For dentists, Hermione's parents were huge chocolate addicts.) Mr. Granger was a fantastic poker player -- the best Hermione had ever met. He'd even played his share of tournaments as a young man, even making the final table once or twice. She loved to hear her parents reminisce about their trips to Vegas.
For all her "good girl" tendencies, Hermione thought there was something romantic about the boozy, smoke-filled casino lounges, saturated with pit bosses and high rollers. Harry and Ron had become her unwilling pupils when she and Harry arrived at the Burrow, much to the Weasleys' amusement. Soon, even Fred and George joined in some evenings, and Mr. Weasley was expressing interest in picking the game up himself. At first, Mrs. Weasley had sniffed, "Gambling, a shameful habit!" But even she was starting to warm up to poker.
Everyone laughed when Hermione insisted that the game required more skill than luck, although she possessed both. Somehow her mind was able to interpret probabilities, and to pick up the small details in her opponents' behavior that clued her into how they were feeling. Watching the greats play was good for her as well -- she noticed the mistakes that amateurs made and imitated the finessed strategies of her favorite players.
They were still playing when Dumbledore and Snape arrived, much to everyone's amusement. Harry had started to catch on to the game, and his pile was even rivaling Hermione's. He readjusted his swim goggles gamely and growled, "You're going down, Granger!" Then they all burst out laughing. Ron helped himself to even more of his betting material.
"What on earth is this nonsense?" Professor Snape drawled from the doorway. Ron shrank into his chair, Harry glared rather rudely, and Hermione simply placed her sunglasses on top of her head and said, "Poker, sir. Would you like to learn to play?"
"I think not!" he snorted, but that didn't stop him from watching the next few hands. Hermione could tell he was interested, and by the third hand she was holding up her two cards to show him what she had. She figured Snape was picking up the rules by simply watching her, since he would move closer when she had a decent chance or sigh when she was clearly screwed. Ron was on a roll, and Hermione was stuck playing conservatively at the moment. Her luck had been terrible this round! She heard Snape snicker almost silently as she held up a two seven off-suit -- the worst hand you can get. Even worse, she had dealt it to herself.
'I'll show him...' she thought evilly. With a quick smirk, which she pretended to hide when Harry glimpsed it, she reraised Ron by a whopping five cookies. Harry folded, removed the goggles, and eyed Ron nervously. Hermione snickered at the paler skin around Harry's eyes, a result of the suction. Snape was inching a bit closer to watch the action. Dumbledore was now sneaking into the kitchen to see what his favorite students were up to. Hermione heard Snape whispering something indiscernible into the Headmaster's ear, only to hear him chuckle quietly and murmur, "Oh, my!"
Fortunately for Hermione, the flop contained an ace, a king, and a seven. At least she had a pair! With an even wider smirk, she leaned back in her chair and bet another three cookies. Ron, gulping, rose to the occasion. The same pattern continued for the fourth and fifth cards. Hermione made sure to raise liberally when another ace turned up.
Finally, she stood, shoved her cookies to the center of the table, and declared, "I'm all in!" Ron squinted at her, trying to read what she was thinking, but Hermione exuded pure confidence, turning her cards up again and smiling.
"I... er... fold." Ron shoved his cards away and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Hermione turned to give Snape an ugly smirk and took a huge bite out of a cookie in her pile. Dumbledore burst out laughing. "A game of skill, indeed! You know, wizards play this game as well. Severus was rather good at it in his youth. Even young Malfoy Sr. was hard pressed for pocket money after a bout with our Potions Master!"
Hermione grinned. So Snape wasn't so quick after all! He probably would have joined in after a few more hands and then impressed them all with his "natural" talent. Dinner time soon arrived, and the Gryffindors called their game to a halt. As Hermione was gathering up her cookies to be eaten later, Professor Snape came up behind her.
"Not bad for a Gryffindor, Miss Granger," he drawled. "But it'll take more than that for you to fool a Slytherin." Hermione simply turned around and grinned at him.
"Well, I will be glad to learn when I have a Slytherin to play with. But I'll warn you now -- any Slytherin playing against me is in for a nasty surprise." Then, on impulse, Hermione winked at him! She instantly regretted it, and waited for the inevitable rebuke. Amazingly, her snarky professor merely raised an eyebrow and stalked off to help himself to a few of Mrs. Weasley's excellent dinner rolls.