— What's that supposed to mean, Miss Granger? — the main serpent of the dungeon hissed, waving the latest edition of the Witchpol in his face.

— I thought you were already ahead of the development of teen magazines. Or do you want to get some explanations about the magic horoscope? — the girl said indifferently, mentally suppressing her panic. Damn, she hoped the news would reach him much later.

A throbbing vein appeared on the pale neck.

— Do you think I'm blind? — Hermione shook her head from side to side reflexively. — I'm asking why, in the name of Merlin, is my picture in this tabloid newspaper?!

A magazine fell on the table in front of her on exactly the twelfth page, where an article she already knew was printed. Hermione wanted not to run her eyes over the excerpts from her letter, which the journalists had so godlessly taken out of context and put on public display.

— Sir, I can explain everything if you finally stop spitting poison at me! — the girl got up from the teacher's desk to reduce their height difference.

— If you please, — Snape glared at her with angry black eyes, barely restraining his sarcastic mouth from swearing. Apparently, by fulfilling her request about the poison.

— As I hope you and I both understand, this article is just a fiction that journalists use..

— It's strange, but this article clearly contains an excerpt from your letter, — Snape interrupted her, again venting his displeasure at her. — And believe me, a person who has read your scrolls for more than a few years, your boring old pepper shaker style is difficult to confuse with something.

Granger glared at the man, choosing a curse that would make Nagaina's poison seem like the ambrosia of the gods.

— I can demonstrate my style, as you put it, of an "old pepper-pot" only when exchanging letters. But your nasty character always stays with you, — and before the teacher could respond, she added sharply. — So do you need an explanation, or did you just come to waste my time and yours?

— All our conversations always turn out to be a waste of time for me, — the man could not help but insert his contribution, nevertheless, obediently falling silent and turning his attention to her.

Hermione had to take a deep breath to collect her thoughts again.

— So, as you correctly noted, the article does contain part of my letter, but this does not negate the fact that everything that happens in the magazine is just an attempt to take what is happening out of context.

— Fiction? — Snape curled his lips in a caustic expression. — What about our almost one hundred percent compatibility, Miss Granger? Do you secretly have a liking for me and, like a typical empty-headed witch, decided to test our compatibility in the most unreliable way?

— No! — Hermione involuntarily raised her voice, slamming the table in annoyance. — You must have thought a lot about yourself, sir. I was just seeing off.. experiment.

A bushy black eyebrow lifted ironically, not hiding the contempt in the potions master's eyes.

— And you thought that I would be very happy to become your lab rat?

— I would choose you as my lab rat only if it had to be dissected, sir, — the girl was almost serious, adjusting her fake glasses, which gave her at least some kind of image of a teacher.

Still, it's a little difficult to gain respect from schoolchildren when you yourself are only a couple of years older than them.

— If you sleep and see how you dissect me, then you are forbidden to work with children.

— And it would be nice for you, Professor, to forbid you to approach any child at all in order to avoid psychological trauma. Naturally, I'm talking about the child's injuries.

— So will you explain to me why the hell I'm flashing my face from a cheap cover?!

— Yes! — the girl shouted, exasperated, leaving the table and starting to turn circles around the office. — If you're still interested, it wasn't even my initiative. It's just that we're with a certain person..

— Mrs. Potter, I suppose,— Snape guessed, following her movement with an attentive gaze.

— A certain person, I ask you to note, thought that one of the compatibility spells should be competent enough for me to use it for personal purposes for verification...

— Mr. Weasley, I suppose,— the professor hit the mark again, pursing his lips in disgust.

— Have you ever wanted to try your hand at divination, sir? — the girl even stopped to respond to this lump of discontent in her office. — Perhaps even potions are worse for you.

— Have you ever tried to be a real teacher, and not just take someone else's position?

Hermione walked around the table in silence, thinking over her answer, until she decided to nobly ignore the old grumpy's inappropriate nagging.

— I think we've come to the most pleasant part. Perhaps you will be incredibly pleased with the news that not only was I not going to use the spell on you, but I also poured too much magic into it with uncharacteristic sloppiness.

— Yes, it seems extremely pleasant to me, — Snape really looked quite kindled, looking at her without the previous negativity. However, in exchange for anger came a sarcastic grin. — Especially the moment when the Insufferable Know-it-All overestimated herself and incorrectly applied the most elementary spell from the plebeian magazine.

Hurt pride hissed at Granger.

— You are, without a doubt, never wrong.

— Not with such simple things, Miss Granger. Maybe your vaunted graduate diploma was just a fiction?

— Then you can try it yourself, — she almost growled, — I think you can find the page on your own.

— I will definitely try it when I want to waste my time. Of course, if you're not around," Snape seemed to enjoy seeing her furious face.— But your whole story still doesn't explain why my photo was on the page. Or was Mr. Weasley less photogenic?

— Haven't you figured it out yet, sir? Where is your vaunted insight? — the girl was already openly angry, rushing around the office like a fury. Snape even paused his stream of sarcasm, as if seriously thinking about the set puzzle. And the answer found itself quickly enough.

— Are you saying that the spell began to spread to everyone without exception? — he could tell by the contorted expression on Hermione's face that he had hit the nail on the head. — And as I understand it, Mr. Weasley, as usual, failed this test as well.

— Forty-nine out of a hundred. And I ask you to refrain from commenting," the girl said the last in a steely voice that brooked no objections.

Although Snape had plenty of comments.

— It's pretty obvious that this test doesn't work,— Hermione continued. — We just can't have a ninety—nine percent similarity. Even Harry has only eighty.

— Oh, I hope Mrs. Potter isn't too saddened by this news,— the potions master's voice was laced with sarcasm.

— People are used to trust each other, not some kind of tests, sir, — she remarked with a certain note of moralizing, as if she considered Snape an outcast who did not understand anything about relationships. And this made the magician's insides boil again.

— And what did you do, Miss Granger? Did you go talk to your Weasley like normal people should? — he quipped, watching the girl grow paler and paler. — No, you went to scribble an angry letter to the editor, like a true old peppercorn! Has your head finally turned into an empty accessory for a hood? Or did you really assume that they would not give up the opportunity to spin another scandal around the Golden Trio?

— I'm not going to respond to your provocations.

— It would be better if you didn't know how to talk at all!

It was as if they had returned to the beginning of the conversation, when Snape was shouting at her, spraying his displeasure all over the office.

Hermione silently sat down in her seat, expressively taking up the work of the students.

— Are you going to ignore me? — he asked coldly, drawing his eyebrows together. Naturally, no one answered him. — Decent behavior for a teacher, Miss Granger.

The girl continued to ignore him, doing her direct job. And, after grumbling a little more, Severus left, waving his robes one last time and slamming the door.

— A nosy toad,— Hermione threw after him, not stopping to make notes in the student's work.

No, this test is absolutely accurate. Completely. One hundred percent fiction, not worthy of at least some minor attention.

\

When the door to her office slammed open a week later, the girl had a persistent feeling of deja vu. Snape was standing on the threshold, as expected, in his black robes of a troublemaker and an avid hater of everything.

He stalked over to her desk as if he were in his office about to scold a naughty student. And in the absence of at least someone else in the room, the role of the student, as always, fell to her.

— How did you remove the spell? — he began immediately with the case, as usual without going into any special explanations.

Hermione blinked at him in disbelief from behind the glasses until a complete picture came together in her head. Putting a writing pen on the table, she leaned on the back of a chair, looking at the man with the most satisfied looks of all.

And what a pleasure it was to see how the potions master was distorted.

— What kind of spell are you talking about, sir? I don't remember discussing anything like this with you today, — she asked innocently, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

— Don't pretend, Miss Granger. You understood me perfectly, — even the snake emblazoned on the emblem of the Slytherin faculty could come to life from his hissing.

— If you're talking about the compatibility spell, — the girl decided not to pretend anymore, continuing the conversation in a condescending tone, — then it should be in the magazine. Have you tried to look through it?

— Their damn counterspell doesn't work! I ask you again, how did you remove your enhanced spell?

— And what, sir, did you not like the result? Or did your partner not score Higher than Expected?

— It doesn't concern you.

— Or have you not found anyone who would reach at least ten? — Hermione continued, thoroughly enjoying her little retribution. — Does Filch really have a day off today? I find a lot in common between you.

— Merlin's witch, just tell me the counter—spell! — Snape growled, slamming his fist down on the table.

— You're going to knock in your office, sir! — she raised her voice, still losing her old passion. — He's not here, everything will go away by itself in a couple of days. I advise you to be patient.

— Merlin! — the potions master swore.

— Oh, yes, it is! — the sorceress supported, smiling maliciously in the face of the former teacher.

— Jabberwocky soles!

Hermione could see how the professor's stream of curses was only gaining momentum, and her lesson was about to start.

— Could you continue somewhere else? I have kids coming in any minute, and I wouldn't want to introduce them to your vocabulary.

It seems that the latter seemed to bring the teacher to himself, and he finally fell silent. Hurrying away, he gave his trademark look at the last.

— Sir, have you crossed paths with Filch today? — at the mention of the caretaker, the potion maker froze, somehow twitching his shoulders too sharply.

— It's none of your business.

— You're too annoyed for it to be a small number. And how much is it? Eighty? Ninety? Or how are we ninety-nine?

— Leave me without your curiosity! And your ego, as always, believes that it is the only one worthy of the first place? Do you want to continue to feel special, Miss Granger?

The girl thought about his words for several seconds, translating from Snape's to human.

— A hundred?— Snape grimaced as if Harry Potter had been shoved under his nose. — Did someone dial a hundred?

The potions master stormed out of the office like a bullet, not even leaving behind the halves of a black robe. And Granger was just putting it all together, dropping her wand in realization. A few minutes later, when the Gryffindor students entered the office, their teacher was in an unfavorable position, laughing on the floor with a flushed face from the strain.

And rumors about the too quiet and timid Filch, who now avoided the dungeons, went around Hogwarts for a long time.