A/N: It's been so long! But finally, something new for you to read! I look forward to hearing your reviews!

Chapter 11: Picking Fights

Staring at the clock on the mantelpiece, Severus frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. He drummed his fingertips against his arms for a long moment before letting out an impatient growl and striding over to the closed bedroom door.

"Granger!" he snapped, knocking loudly. "I told you to get up twenty minutes ago!"

There was a muffled groan from the other side of the door, but no sounds to suggest that she was finally following through with the task.

"Get out here!" When there was still no motion from within the room, he scowled and added, "Now!"

"Why?"

"Because classes begin in an hour, and we have yet to eat," he explained grumpily.

"I'm not hungry," she replied loudly, "and I don't have class until second period today, thanks to the Board of Governors!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Well, I have class first period, and I am hungry."

"Then order something from the kitchens, because I'm not going upstairs!"

He grumbled beneath his breath, resisting the urge to throw open the door and haul her up to the Great Hall in her nightgown. Imagining the gossip that that particular scenario might incur, he sighed and rubbed his temples. "Listen, you impertinent chit! We've skipped the past two meals because you wanted to hide, but we cannot continue to do so. No one in their right mind would believe that a man my age could have that much sex in a day without something rather vital falling off!"

A brief moment of silence followed before Hermione sighed. "Then go without me."

"Granger, you know what will be said if I do."

"Then tell them I have a migraine!"

Severus frowned, feeling suddenly sheepish at having shouted at her. Grimacing lightly, he spoke in a lower voice. "Do you?"

Her sigh was audible. "If I say yes, will you go away?"

The man glared at the ceiling; all traces of his previous compassion having vanished. "Granger –"

"Go!" she yelled, throwing what sounded like a pillow at the door. "Maybe you could just pretend to be a considerate husband who allows his wife a lie-in every now and then. Did you think of that?"

"Merlin's sake," he snapped, shoving away from the door frame. "This is ridiculous!"

The Slytherin paced bitterly for a minute until his rumbling stomach caught his attention. With one last glare cast in the direction of the second bedroom, he stalked across the room and ripped open the door. Taking in a deep breath, he removed all traces of ire from his countenance, and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

He made his way to the Great Hall as quickly as he could, determined to get there with enough time to eat and digest it before he had to deal with the seventh-years. Ignoring the few muffled whispers that erupted in the corridors as he passed, Severus mentally ran through his lesson plans for the day.

His entrance into the Great Hall was far more subdued than the previous morning's, but there were still plenty of gaping stares. He gave a frustrated sigh as he mounted the steps to the dais and collapsed into the remaining empty seat with a bit more force than was needed.

"Good morning, Severus!" Pomona Sprout smiled over her tea. "And just where is your lovely bride this morning?"

The wizard shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he began dishing himself a plate. "Well, seeing as she doesn't have class until second period today, I thought perhaps she could do with a lie-in every now and then."

The witch beamed as she patted his shoulder. "Oh, well aren't you a considerate husband!"

"Hermione isn't with him," Harry mumbled, narrowing his eyes as he watched the Potions Master sit down at the Head Table.

Ron turned enough to peer over his shoulder and then shrugged.

"Where do you think she is?" Ginny asked.

"Dunno," the redheaded wizard grumbled.

"She's probably fine," Neville added quietly. "If she weren't, you know, he wouldn't have left her."

Ginny gave him a small smile, until Seamus leaned into the conversation and waggled his eyebrows. "Reckon he's still got her chained to the bedposts, then?"

While Neville flushed in embarrassment, Ron turned red with anger. "Shut up, Seamus!"

"Oi! Relax, mate," the other boy smirked. "We've all been in the Greasy Git's class. After everything we've seen of that man, you can't deny the probability that he likes to play rough."

"No, Ron!" Harry warned, grabbing hold of his best friend's shoulders to prevent him from reaching across the table. "Come on. Let's take a walk."

"Fine," he growled, pushing away from the table and yanking his arm free.

The dark-haired wizard grabbed both of their book bags, and with a smile in Ginny's direction, hurried after the taller boy. The pair exited the castle to grab a nip of fresh air, and to allow one of them to expel his frustration by kicking a nearby shrub into a mangled mess of broken branches.

"Hey, now," a smug voice called. "That single plant probably costs more than it does to feed your whole mangy family."

"Bugger off, Malfoy!" Harry growled, spinning around.

The blonde glanced conspiratorially at his two henchmen and then crossed his arms. "But we just wanted to help console the Weasel. It must be terribly disappointing – all that time wasted, wanking off over her, and now to realize she's never going to push out any ginger, half-blood brats, is she?"

A rather feral sound escaped Ron, and before anyone could react, he had thrown his fist into the smirking boy's face. As everyone else had been caught off-guard, it took them a moment to respond to the situation.

"Ron! Ron, stop!" Harry shouted, leaping forward to grab hold of his friend, who was now on top of Draco and visibly prepared to strike again.

Crabbe and Goyle, however, appeared to think that The-Boy-Who-Lived was jumping in to help beat their friend into a bloody pulp.

"Expelliarmus!" they shouted in unison, and Harry, who had not even had his wand drawn, suddenly found himself flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him.

"Get this… bloody… rodent… off of me!" Malfoy shouted as he wriggled beneath Ron, attempting to dodge the redhead's furious blows. "Help! Help! I'm being assaulted!"

"You're the fucking rodent, Ferret!" Ron hissed. "And if you can't stop talking, I'll just have to take care of it myself!"

"Oh yeah?" Draco returned under his breath, "What do you wager that that's what Ol' Snape told your little girlfriend on their wedding night?"

"You fucking bastard!"

The ginger-haired boy had pulled out his wand, but was prevented from casting anything when a strong hand grabbed hold of the back of his robes.

"Mr. Weasley," Severus sneered after yanking him off of the blonde. "I do believe that's fifty points from Gryffindor and a week's worth of detention."

"He at-tack-tacked me, sir!" Malfoy whimpered pathetically, pointing at the Gryffindor with a shaky hand as he crawled backward on his other arm. "We were just having a chat when he lunged… like an animal!"

As the other two Slytherin students nodded, McGonagall rolled her eyes and shook her head. Stepping around her colleague, she eyed the situation and folded her arms to her chest. "And I suppose Potter knocked himself out, hmm?"

Crabbe and Goyle nodded vigorously.

"Twenty points from the both of you and detention for assaulting an unarmed student," she snipped, "and five from each of you for lying to a professor."

"But he was lunging like an animal, too," Crabbe protested.

His friend nodded, pushing out his chest. "We were defending ourselves."

"I was only… trying to stop Ron, Professor," Harry mumbled, grimacing as he pushed himself into a seated position.

Minerva raised an eyebrow and then smirked. "Well, then: ten points to Gryffindor."

"What?" Draco sneered, propping himself up on his hands. "Scarhead falls down, and earns himself points?"

"Mr. Malfoy –"

"Seeing as Mr. Malfoy, here, was just the victim of a beating," Snape interrupted with a sneer, "perhaps he can be afforded a bit of leeway?"

McGonagall pinched her lips together and begrudgingly relented as she eyed the bloodied boy. "Fine – but that is your only warning! Potter, Weasley – come along then."

Harry nodded slowly, casting a glare in the Slytherins' direction as he picked up the two book bags. He thrust one of them against his best friend's chest and then grabbed hold of his elbow. "Come on, Ron."

"I am certain that Mr. Filch will appreciate your assistance this week, Mr. Weasley," Severus smiled as the redhead continued to scowl at him. "I myself will be far too busy to oversee your detentions."

A dark look crossed Ron's face as he tugged out of Harry's grasp. "Yeah? Well, fuck you, Snape!"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Minerva sighed, hanging her head. Taking in a deep breath, she looked up to see the amused expression on her colleague's face and waved her hand. "Well, get on with it then."

Grinning dangerously, the Potions Master leaned closer to the marginally-shorter wizard. "Twenty-five points from Gryffindor."

The boy opened his mouth, fully prepared to offer another vulgar retort, but was halted by a nonverbal silencing charm cast subtly by his Head of House. "One more word, Weasley, and I will make it fifty!"

"Ron, let's just go," Harry whispered, grabbing him by the upper arms and steering him down the corridor. "We're supposed to meet Neville and Ernie for revision, remember?"

As the exasperated Deputy Headmistress followed her errant students back into the castle, Snape turned to face his own miscreants. Rolling his eyes at the two idiots giggling from the side, he fixed his attention on the blonde still sitting on the ground. "Was that absolutely necessary?"

"Took Gryffindor out of the lead, didn't I?" Draco smirked boastfully, tilting his head.

The professor exhaled in irritation. "And knocked Slytherin out as well, might I add."

"Oh, no way!" Crabbe mumbled. "He lost way more points than we did, sir!"

His Head of House slowly turned to stare at him with a blank look, and then shook his head. "Fifteen points more. Fifteen points, when we trailed them by forty! Congratulations, gentlemen, you've tied us with Hufflepuff for dead last."

A look of intense confusion crossed the large boy's face and he began whispering with Goyle as they tried to add up all of the points they had lost.

"And he tells me that he's the smartest one in the family," Draco sighed.

Snape folded his arms to his chest and shook his head. "I find that incredibly doubtful."

"No, I am, sir," Vincent nodded, overhearing them. "Well, except for Dad."

"And your mum," Gregory added.

"Oh, yeah – her, too," the bigger boy agreed. "But I'm definitely smarter than my sister. Loads smarter."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled loudly. "Find somewhere else to be. Now."

The two Slytherin henchmen shrugged and began trudging back into the castle.

"Didn't your sister just turn six?" Goyle asked upon reaching the doors.

"Yeah," Crabbe replied. "But I'm still smarter than her, aren't I?"

After glaring briefly at the sky, the Potions Master looked down at the snickering pureblood heir, eyeing the boy's split lip, bloody nose, and overall bedraggled appearance. With a brief spell murmured under his breath, he healed the broken nose and smirked when the young wizard squawked in surprise. "You look positively atrocious."

"You wound me, Uncle Severus," Malfoy quipped, playfully covering his heart with one hand after having recovered from the pain of having his nose magically reset.

"And just what would your mother have to say about this?" the man pressed.

The boy shrugged. "Something rather embarrassing, I would imagine. Father would have himself a laugh, though."

"Perhaps," Snape murmured. "If he could ever look past the shame of his only son having been bested by a Weasley."

"Oh, please," Draco sighed. "Had I actually tried, he would've been in a pile at my feet."

"So you wanted to have your arse handed to you, then?"

The blonde chuckled as he hauled himself to his feet. "I knew a professor would be along shortly, and Weasley's so bent out of shape about you shagging his girlfriend, that I figured he was worth a good fifty points or so."

"Baiting students, are we?"

"Yes, I would say we are, Professor-I'm-too-busy-to-oversee-your-detention-r ead-between-my-words-Weasley-because-I'll-be-putti ng-it-to-my-new-wife."

With an amused snort, the wizard eyed his godson. "Get yourself cleaned up before you show up for class, and do it quickly so that I do not have to watch Hufflepuff creep past us."

"Yes, sir," Malfoy saluted as his godfather held open the door. "Are you heading down to the classroom now?"

Severus nodded. "Why?"

"Just curious," he shrugged, before donning a leering expression. "Didn't know if you had to pop down to untie Granger first, or if you're just gonna let her use those giant teeth of hers to gnaw her way through the straps."

A scowl immediately set in on the man's face as he grabbed hold of his student's collar and tossed him through the door. "Get in there, you little shit."

Relieved that Snape had actually allowed her to skip the first meal of the day, it was a relatively calm Hermione that showed up to the Charms classroom. She had kept her chin up the entire way, and had ignored all of the whispers and giggles that had followed her throughout the castle.

"Hi, Hermione," Harry sighed as he dropped into the seat beside her. "Are you alright? We didn't see you at breakfast."

She smiled up at him and nodded. "Yes, I didn't have to be up for Potions this morning, so I stayed in bed a bit longer."

"See, I told you she was alright," Neville mumbled, moving to claim his usual seat on the girl's right side. Before he could quite sit down, however, he unexpectedly found himself pushed roughly out of the way.

"Move it, Longbottom," Draco snapped as he stole the seat. "Potty's gonna need a partner so hop to."

As the three Gryffindors stared at him in shock, he raised an eyebrow at them in challenge and then stretched out in the chair.

"Malfoy," Hermione hissed, "What are you doing?"

"Enjoying a change in scenery," he shrugged before glancing back at the still gaping Neville. "Problem with that, Longbottom?"

"N-no," the dark-haired boy stammered, sinking into the empty seat next to Harry.

The witch frowned and glanced at her friend. "Where's Ron?"

"Well, he's, erm… Professor McGonagall wanted to have a word with him," Harry explained, flicking his gaze back and forth between her and the Slytherin on the end.

"A word?" She narrowed her eyes and dropped her voice. "About what?"

"Erm…"

"I would imagine it's about learning to respect his betters," Draco sneered, leaning into her space. "Wouldn't you say so, Potter?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry growled. "Why don't you slither back to your own table, and leave us alone?"

The blonde casually linked his hands behind his head. "No, I think I quite like it here."

"Get away from me, Draco," Hermione glared. "I am not partnering with you."

"Listen, mudblood," he hissed, dropping his voice as he leaned forward again, "Your bossy, little wench routine may work with Potty and the Weasel, but I'm sure you've found it doesn't work with your husband, and it certainly doesn't deter me in the least. So why don't you conserve your energy and my patience by shutting your trap and accepting it, hmm? I don't want to be near you any more than you do me, so don't flatter yourself."

"Then why are you?"

The boy rolled his shoulders, but said nothing as he moved away from her and cast another glare in Harry's direction.

As Professor Flitwick appeared at the front of the room, he startled in the midst of greeting the class and eyed their table in surprise. "Mr. Malfoy, forgive me, but I did not expect to have you change seats. Miss Granger, is that –"

Draco cleared his throat loudly and donned a polite expression. "Forgive me, Professor, but I believe you meant to say 'Madam Snape'."

"Oh, quite right," the diminutive wizard stated nervously before a look of comprehension crossed his face. "My apologies, Madam Snape… and Mr. Malfoy, you are more than welcome to that seat. I see that Mr. Longbottom has paired up elsewhere already, and I suppose that Mr. Weasley can pair up with Miss Parkinson upon his return."

Her mouth hanging open slightly, Hermione bristled at the haughty wink her new partner gave her. She then exchanged an equally bewildered look with Harry and swallowed uncertainly when Neville only gave her a sympathetic shrug. Leaning forward onto her elbows, she covered her face with both hands and wondered exactly how her world could have turned into a nightmare so quickly.

"I heard she jumped him in the shower."

Hermione's quill froze mid-sentence, and she flicked her gaze up long enough to see four Gryffindor sixth-years chatting amongst themselves at a nearby table. Their books were spread out across the table, but it was quite clear that it was not their NEWT studies they were discussing.

"No way. Granger?"

"Yeah. Murray – you know the really cute one in Hufflepuff?"

"Ugh, girls actually think that tosspot's cute?"

"Yes, we do, Jason. Anyway… he said that they were talking about it before breakfast that one day."

"They, who?"

"You know – her and Snape."

While she mentally corrected the girl's grammar, Hermione's eyebrows narrowed in confusion, and she frantically searched her memory for the odd conversation they had held during their first walk together to the Great Hall. Upon remembering the offhanded remark she had made about Tonks taking advantage of him while he was unarmed – or was he truly paranoid enough to shower with his wand? – and otherwise occupied, she groaned softly.

"I don't believe it –"

Her breath caught in her throat as she listened, hoping to hear that another of her House-mates may be on her side.

" – but then again, perhaps it was in a book she read."

The witch sank lower in her seat as they began giggling.

"You know, if Snape was smart, he would've written a manual for her."

"What? Step by step instructions to sex?"

"Yeah! Step one: remove your clothing. Step two: Get on your –"

"Shhh… keep your bloody voice down, Timothy. She might hear you."

Feeling suddenly conspicuous, Hermione lifted her eyes from the book she was pretending to read. When she saw four pairs unabashedly staring back at her, she blushed and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The other members of Gryffindor House quickly averted their eyes back to their own table and dropped their voices a bit lower.

"Do you think she heard?"

"I don't know. I doubt it – she'd have told us off by now if she had."

"But she's not Head Girl anymore, remember? She can't take points away."

"She could tell the Giant Bat, though, couldn't she?"

"Oh, piss. You two are lucky you're not in Potions anymore. 'Foul git' doesn't even begin to describe yesterday."

"Well, she probably didn't hear us anyway, so it doesn't matter."

"Right. Anyway, on the list for…"

As the hushed tones drifted off into talk of Herbology, Hermione let out the breath she did not realize she was holding. She very well could hear them, but had no intention of sharing the particulars of their conversation with her irksome husband. He would likely only tell her not to bother him with trivialities and to grow a thicker skin.

The witch knew that she would have no leg to stand on in that situation. They were only two days into their return to the Hogwarts spotlight, and things were unlikely to improve in the immediate future. She was just going to have to deal with it and suffer through until all of the students grew weary of spreading rumors and asking completely inappropriate questions.

Wrinkling her nose, she thought back to lunch several hours prior. It was the first meal she had ventured to eat at the Gryffindor table, and she was almost sorry she had. Ron had spent the entire time in a silent snit, refusing to talk to anyone he could possibly blame for his getting kicked back to a Slytherin table in Charms class. Harry would not cease his mutterings about Draco having continuously cast silencing spells his way to interfere with his ability to produce the charm they were supposed to be practicing. Neville had remained absolutely silent throughout the meal, and Ginny had blatantly failed to keep the look of amused interest off of her face when Lavender Brown quite audibly asked whether or not the resident Potions Master was 'hung like a hippogriff.'

And now, as the supper hour drew near, Hermione was facing the ultimate task of determining which was the lesser of two evils – dining in the midst of her disgusted – and disturbingly interested, in some cases – House-mates, or with Severus and the rest of her professors.

"Do you think he would've read it out loud?"

Hermione paused her thoughts as one of the sixth-year girls spoke up again.

"Read what out loud?"

"You know – the sex manual."

"Who? Snape?"

"Yeah. I hope for Granger's sake he did. I certainly wouldn't mind if he – ow! What was that for?"

"You're bonkers, Lucy."

"Oh, come on! Don't tell me you don't think that voice of his has special powers."

"The power to make me wet myself, perhaps."

"Oh, me too. But in a good way."

As groans of disgust emanated from the others at the table, Hermione scowled and slammed her book shut. She had no desire to hear anything further on the subject, so it seemed they had inadvertently made the decision for her.

At least no one at the Head Table would voice their curiosity as to the comparative size of her husband's equipment. Hopefully.