AN: I'm back again! I won't be able to update until sometime next week, but I figured I'd leave you a taste of my new story.
Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
Professors should be provided with wine or scotch during Quidditch games. No, those were not the two best drinks. Wine wasn't intoxicating enough to make this drudgery bearable, and Minerva would drink all the scotch before he could so much as pick up a glass. Whiskey was the best libation by far. Really, any drink which could make this game more interesting would be preferable to enduring another second of this poor excuse for entertainment.
The warm air clung to Severus' frock coat, making him wish he'd worn something lighter. Then again, if he wore any other attire, would the world thought he'd become a fool? Worse, would they think he was turning a new leaf and was now willing to grade his essays more leniently? Such misconceptions could not be allowed to perpetuate.
Rain from the night before dripped from the ceiling of the professors' box seats onto the muddy ground below. If only this game had been rained out! A decade ago, Slytherin vs Gryffindor was the height of excitement. Now, the whole thing was a nuisance, another reminder that regardless of the war, heated house rivalries remained. Despite the damage the rivalries had done, they would never be eliminated, or at least they would not under the current administration…
"Really Severus," Minerva sat in the seat beside him. "You can try to appear amused."
"What is there to be amused about? This game has been going on for two hours and nobody is closer to catching the snitch than when we'd begun," he grumbled.
"You're starting to sound like Hermione." Headmistress Minerva gave him a knowing smirk.
"As much as it shocks me to say this, she is not wrong about everything. This game has grown more tedious with each passing year."
"You do seem to complain more about it each year anyway."
"I have more reason to complain about it with each passing year given the quality of the players continues to deteriorate."
She huffed before returning her attention to the game.
Severus saw the students grasp at the snitch, only for it to buzz away just out of their reach. Slytherin was supposed to be good this year, or so they said. All Severus saw was a team playing down to their competition. If this became a pattern it would prove to be a tedious year.
"I know you won't smile, but you could at least not scowl," Minerva folded her hands.
"Why?" Severus asked. "Everyone expects me to behave in a certain way, one which includes appearing dour. I would hate to disappoint them."
"And here I didn't think you didn't care what others thought of you."
"I care whether or not they believe I'll raise their grade simply because they begged me to do so."
"Grade grubbing aside, consider smiling more," she replied. "You make Neville nervous when you scowl like that."
"No, I'm fine," Neville answered from beside her with a small smile. "I know that if he becomes too aggressive I'll refuse to harvest his mandrake leaves."
Severus glared at him, though there was no malice in the expression. He needed those mandrakes, and nobody harvested them as well as Neville did. Who knew the worst students in potions would become one of the best herbology professors Severus had ever met?
"I thought you'd be more excited," Neville continued. "Slytherin is up by one hundred."
"I would say that is acceptable, but nobody has won anything at the moment."
The snitch whirled by the players as the seekers attempted to keep up. In the meantime, a blunger went through a hoop, eliciting cheers from the Slytherin crowd.
"Do you think one of us should check on Hermione?" Neville asked with a frown.
"That won't be necessary," Severus answered. "When I saw her this morning she insisted she only needed rest."
"Yes, but if she can't make her breakfast…"
"She was making it before I left. Even when her leg is giving her the most trouble, putting cereal in a bowl is not too difficult for her."
"It can't be good for her to eat all that sugar," Minerva shook her head.
"There is more to muggle cereal than sugar," Severus replied.
"Not much more."
Severus humphed as another blunger went through a hoop.
"Someone should still check on her," Neville continued.
"I would agree, except she wants her independence," Severus replied. "We should respect that."
"She's too stubborn for her own good sometimes," Minerva answered. "The poor girl is going to further injure herself if she doesn't slow down."
"Hermione knows her body. If she wanted help with her morning routine, she would've said something before I left."
"Do you think she wants to be alone, or did she not want you as her caretaker for the day?" Minerva asked.
"First of all, she doesn't need a caretaker as if she is some toddler. Second of all, the woman can speak for herself. If she doesn't want us around, then she doesn't want us around."
Minerva opened her mouth.
"Severus has a point," Neville cut in. "Hermione trusts Severus. If she told him she'll be fine, then she'll be fine."
"I only hope her trust in him isn't misplaced," Minerva's words came out as a warning.
Rolling his eyes, Severus returned his attention to the game. Slytherin was now one hundred twenty points ahead. If they kept this up they may snap their five game losing streak against Gryffindor. It would be nice for the students to have something to celebrate, even if this game was the cure for insomnia.
"If you find this game so boring, why don't we spice things up?" Minerva asked.
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, if Slytherin wins, I do something you request. If Gryffindor wins, you must do something I request."
"Why don't you tell me what the request is and I will decide if I should make this wager."
"I could ask the same of you," Minerva asked. "If you could have me do anything, what is it you would have me do?"
He hummed as he twisted his lips. "The Slytherin Common Room is in desperate need of remodeling."
"I planned to do that anyway, but I can start it tomorrow if you win."
He glanced over at the score. Slytherin was holding their own, and the snitch hadn't been caught yet. Still, Gryffindor was getting closer.
"And if I lose?" Severus asked.
"I want you to go on at least one blind date per month."
"Excuse me?" His eyes grew.
Neville's mouth opened, though he couldn't hide his intrigue.
"Yes, it's become clear that you are lonely," she began.
"I am far from lonely," he argued. "I have my books and my potions. What more do I need?"
"Someone to wipe that scowl off your face."
He snarled.
"It's been years since the war's ended, and you're still living like a bachelor with a huge 'bugger off world' sign written on your forehead. A little socializing would do you some good."
"I am more than capable of socializing on my own terms."
"Your own terms involve frightening unsuspecting people into leaving you alone."
"That is the best kind of socialization."
"No, the best kind of socialization is what you do with your colleagues. As ornery as you are with us, at least you aren't actively trying to terrify us."
"Most days anyway."
"Still, you must get lonely in the summer, holed up in that shack attempting to pass itself off as a house."
"I get along just fine, thank you very much."
"It's only one, maybe two blind dates a month. In theory you could place another bet, getting yourself out of it."
"You would allow that?"
"I would."
His eyes flashed in interest. The Slytherin Common Room was in desperate need of remodeling, and there would be many other times for a bet if he somehow lost. Besides, Slytherin was up by 130, and Gryffindor wasn't anywhere near the snitch. A bet would spice up the game.
"Do we have a bet?" Minerva stretched out her hand.
He smirked and shook it. "We do."
"Gryffindor has caught the snitch!"
Severus and Minerva glanced at the pitch, where the Gryffindor catcher held up the snitch, her eyes glistening in triumph.
"Gryffindor wins the game!"
Severus' stomach sank. He turned to Minerva, hoping that there was any way to talk her out of this.
"I expect to see you in your finest robes this weekend." She patted him on the shoulder before walking away.
He blinked, his mind racing with thoughts of dunderheads infiltrating his personal space, taking up the precious time he could be spending grading his papers and exams, and babbling on about the most asinine subjects imaginable. It was bad enough he had to suffer through these Quidditch games. Must more of his free time be eaten up by one nuisance after another?
"Don't worry, it can't be too bad," Neville replied. "Minerva cares about you. She'll find someone who will at least give you a good evening."
It was then that Severus knew this would be the worst school year he'd endured since the war ended