A/N: I have to do a bit of shameless advertisement (and it doubles as an apology for taking so long to post). If you are an Avengers fan, please check out my other story The Kids Will Be Fine. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please read and review :)
The morning of the quidditch match finally arrived and Snape was not looking forward to it. He was sure that his team would beat the Gryffindor brats this time, but he did not look forward to sitting through the bitter cold just to see Potter and his teammates finally get a taste of failure. The students had already begun traveling down to the quidditch pitch, but Snape took a moment in courtyard to heat his clothing with a permanent warming charm. The handy charm, which he had learned from Lily their third year, had kept him from freezing his way through numerous quidditch matches over the years.
Professor McGonagall, dressed in her tartan cape and earmuffs, smirked as she approached Snape. "Good luck, Severus," She said," I am sure your team will surpass all of our expectations as they have used the quidditch pitch every day the last two weeks."
Snape scowled. "Yes, Minerva, my team is sure to win with Weasley as your keeper."
Just then, a group of students sporting "Weasley is our King" badges walked by. McGonagall's face turned as scarlet as her Gryffindor scarf. Stiffly bidding Snape goodbye, she stomped off after the students in a huff.
Snickering to himself, Snape resumed working on his clothing. He was so focused on the charm that he didn't notice when a visitor flounced up beside him.
"Hello, Severus," Said Eliza loudly, laughing when he jumped in surprise.
Snape gave her an appraising look. "Need I ask what team you are cheering for?" A slight smile rested on his lips as he looked over her robes.
Eliza was dressed from head to toe in robes of Slytherin green. The bodice and skirt fit tightly to her body and the collar buttoned at the neck. Below her knee-length skirt were black boots, each featuring a snake of silver and emerald thread curling up the sides. Around her shoulders was a long cape, also green, with a silver fox fur along the edge of the hood. She left her white hair down over her shoulders, but clipped the single black streak up with a silver barrette made to look like the Syltherin House crest. In Snape's eyes she looked simply radiant. He felt his heart swell with house pride like never before.
"It's been a while since I got to wear my Slytherin robes, I couldn't resist bring them out again," Eliza said, flashing Snape a grin. Snape felt his stomach flip and it suddenly seemed important for him to make her smile like that every opportunity he got.
Together, they made their way down to the quidditch pitch. The journey was more uncomfortable than it should have been because Eliza had opted to walk with her hand in the crook of his elbow. Snape was horrifyingly aware of her presence beside him the whole time they walked, his breath catching every time her body brushed against his. By the time they reached their seats, Snape's jaw was clenched tightly to keep his surprised gasps at bay.
"Oh yes, you are playing Gryffindor," said Eliza as she peered over the sea of students dressed in red and green. "Hmmm, I am guessing that they are still Slytherin's ultimate rival?"
Snape scowled at the reminder. Year after year his team trained harder and played stronger, and yet that pompous Potter swooped in with a bit of fancy broomwork and stole the Quidditch cup from under his nose. "We will defeat them this year. My players have been practicing every day and the Gryffindors have that abysmal Weasley as Keeper."
Across the pitch he saw a Luna Lovegood with a massive roaring lion on her head. If her creation wasn't such a monstrosity,clearly dreamed up by that nonsensical moony brain of hers, he might have appreciated the complicated charms used to make it. Charms were never his strong suit, but he had a certain weakness when it came to those clever in the subject.
The game began with its usual take off and cheering crowd. Eliza sat on the edge of her seat, clasping her hands in excitement, attempting to follow all of the fliers at once. Snape watched her out of the corner of his eye, a bemused expression on his face. Something about her giddy behavior and her enthusiasm when anyone, even the Gryffindor chasers, had the quaffle made the professor suspect that athleticism was the one subject she did not excel in.
The game was in full swing when he first heard it. It began as a low murmur amongst the Slytherins on the bottom rows, a chant of sorts. It was common for the students to compose little ditties to encourage their house players, so he paid it no mind and continued dividing his attention between the game and Eliza beside him. Each time the witch jumped up to clap enthusiastically for some move or another (usually a minor maneuver or a play by the opposing team), Snape grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into her seat. As revenge, he was sure, she used that opportunity to inch closer to him so that she was soon snuggled tight enough against his side that he had to rest his arm behind her back. This proximity was so distracting that he did not notice Pansy Parkinson standing in front of her classmates, directing them in raucous song, until the words were finally clear to him
Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King.
Groaning as the realization struck him, Snape leaned forward and massaged his already aching temples. That morning he had seen the buttons and found them mildly amusing. He knew that Malfoy and his cronies had been teasing the boy all week, but he was not about to stop them. They were childish and annoying, but they were also correct in their intimation – he really was terrible and that gave the Slytherins an edge. But this song was taking it too far, especially with a visiting house alum that Snape so desperately wanted to impress. He was really hoping to show her how much more powerful the Slytherin house was since their days in school, but with them singing that childish song, they looked just like the low-blow brats that had always been.
Glancing wildly down at Eliza pressed against his side, he knew that her frown was from recognition of the song's lyrics.
"That's not a very nice song, is it?" she asked, looking up at him with her wide green eyes.
Snape felt his stomach drop uncomfortably. "No, I am afraid that it isn't," he said quietly. Turning to resume watching the game, he silently willed Eliza to drop the subject.
Her laugh took him by surprise. He looked down at her again, his mouth hanging open as he tried to piece together what had amused her so much.
"Oh I shouldn't be laughing," she said, "Is that really the extent to which they would go? I never understood how the houses could be so competitive. Your students really outdid themselves."
Snape stared at her completely bewildered. How could this witch be so confusing? Ever since they first met he was absolutely baffled by her actions and behaviors. Just when he thought he had her all figured out, she would drop some bombshell that brought him back to square one. He was sure that she hated him, that she had long ago written him off as the despicable death eater that he was. But over the last few weeks, she seemed to open up to him and to perhaps enjoy his company. And now, when he expected the high and mighty Eliza Slope to look down her nose as his house's immature behavior, she laughed and found the entire situation amusing. It was unnerving.
The game continued with the Slytherins taking no mercy as the Gryffindor Chasers scrambled to make up for Weasley's poor performance as a Keeper. Snape was sure that the Hufflepuff Keeper had more skills than that ginger buffoon. Each time the Slytherin Chasers put the quaffle through one of the goal posts, with the chorus of Weasley is our King booming in his ears, Snape's chest swelled with house pride that could not be beat. It was one of those rare moments that the Head of House dared to dream about: their team performing admirably on the pitch, the whole house participating in perfectly planned cheering, and a beautiful woman proudly donning the house colors by his side. Well, the last item was probably not something that McGonagall or Filtch dreamed of, but Snape was a relatively young man so it wasn't an unperceivable fantasy.
"Is that Draco?" Eliza asked suddenly, pointing at the blond haired boy following Potter as he made an impressive dive.
Snape nodded. "Yes, he is our Seeker."
Eliza snorted and rolled her eyes. "I bet he bought his way on the team. That's how Lucius managed to get on the team back when he was in school."
The professor want to snap at her with a nasty retort for assuming he could be bought (even though it was technically true), but her comment about Lucius caught him off guard. Lucius Malfoy had been a few years above him in school and he was quite the hero amongst the Slytherins. Rich and beautiful, he was the ultimate role model for first years, including Snape. Although the adoration quickly wore off, Snape had always assumed that Lucius had become seeker with authentic talent.
"I thought that Lucius was a good quidditch player," Snape said, the obvious question edging his voice. What was she talking about?
Eliza chuckled and shook her head. "Merlin, no. Erich Lestrange, Rodolphus' little brother, was an amazing Seeker, but they didn't have a galleon between them. So Lucius came in and bought all new Nimbus 1500s – you remember those, don't you? – Anyway, he bought all new brooms for the whole team. Of course they couldn't turn down new brooms, so Lucius Malfoy became Seeker and poor Erich gave up all hope of ever making it on a national quidditch team."
Snape felt little waves of horror passing over him as he realized that everything he thought he knew about his childhood was steadily becoming a lie. To make matters worse, Draco had pulled the same stunt his second year. The only consolation was that there weren't any better players to be had.
Beside him, Eliza was unaware of his revelations as she continued with the story. "I never really cared about quidditch, or about his little bribery, but it really made Narcissa mad when I brought it up. I thought she was actually going to murder me the night Lucius came over for dinner for the first time and I asked him to tell the family about how he tried out for the quidditch team. If Daddy hadn't of taken my side, she might have succeeded in hexing me to oblivion. Of course she never was good at hexing…or spells in general…"
Snape was thoroughly confused. They had gone from talking about Narcissa and "Daddy"? Just how well did she know the Malfoys?
But before he could ask, a roar from the stands sounded the end of the game. Glancing wildly around, the professor quickly realized that his team had lost. Scowling, he looked over at Eliza who was clapping with gusto.
"We lost," he snarled. "Quit clapping."
Eliza continued to clap, beaming at Snape's grouchy expression. "Oh, we lost? Well bravo, good game! I need some firewhisky now to thaw out."
From the ground erupted a loud yell, followed the crowd's gasp. Snape looked down to see Potter and one of the Weasley twins pummeling Malfoy and his sidekicks. The other Weasley twin was straining against the hold that his teammates had on him, clearly intending to attack the Slytherin players too.
"Damn idiots," Snape swore, rubbing his temples once more. As usual, his students had chided the other team to a breaking point, and Gryffindors, being the brash dunderheads that they were, could not resist the bait. Just once he would love it if they wanted to surprise him and perform some act that was utterly unpredictable.
"Hmmm," said Eliza, craning her neck to survey the scene below, "It looks like you have your work cut out for you."
Rolling his eyes, Snape hooked Eliza's arm and began leading her out of the quidditch stands. "I am afraid that you will have to see the headmaster for firewhisky," he said at the base of the stairs. "I have copious amounts of detention to hand out."
Eliza smirked at his mention of detention. He definitely was shaping up to be the teacher that Melanie had described. "That's fine, we can have a drink another time. Besides, I have a former student who desperately wants to see me." Squeezing his arm tightly, Eliza stretched up on her tip toes and gave Snape a swift peck on the cheek. With a final smile over her shoulder, Eliza flounced off to where Melanie stood beside her friends Luna and Ginny Weasley.
Snape stood stock still for a few moments, trying desperately to remember how to breathe. He couldn't think of the last time a woman's lips were close to his face, much less on it. If Professor McGonagall hadn't off stomped past in a flurry of tartan and Scottish accented rage, he would have forgotten all about the students making their way his office for punishment.
Inside his office, as he addressed the boys with his most fearsome cold voice, he found that his thoughts were centered around the burning spot on his cheek. He was convinced that a red lip mark had seared itself on his cheek, visible to the students before him. Perhaps it was this embarrassment that caused Snape to go easy on the boys and only give them lines as punishment, or maybe he truly felt that Potter and the Weasleys got what they deserved. Whatever the reason, Snape knew that his reputation remained intact amongst the students, but Eliza's feelings about him had clearly changed.