Three Point Match, No Doubling

Disclaimer


Disclaimer: 
I don’t owe the characters.  JK
Rowling does.  I’m not making
money on them, she is (and rightly so).  Just
having a bit of fun!
 


“That was low, Sal, even for you.”  Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts school of
Witchcraft and Wizardry surveyed the felt and leather covered board on the table
before him.
 


Severus had no patience for Wizards chess, the game of
choice for most wizards and witches alike. 
It was a tedious, long-winded affair. 
Severus preferred the quick, sometimes bloodthirsty, game of backgammon. 
The game was dependent on luck as much as skill and strategy, much like
his own life.  One wrong roll and
the whole game could be lost.
 


Across the board a chuckle floated out of empty air. 
Severus Snape was aloneve tve the company of a long-dead Hogwart’s
founder.
 


He spent his evenings playing backgammon with the ghost of
Salazar Slytherin.
 


And he was losing this match.
 


“Doubling now, are you,” Severus was fairly livid. 
“Never took you for a coward.”
 


Again, the airy, almost melodious chuckle. 
“Well then, boy, if I’m such a coward, show me up. 
Take the double.”
 


The dark-haired wizard studied the board, eyes narrowed in
intense concentration.   Counting
pips and picturing rolls of the brown and cream ivory dice. 
Weighing his odds and his chance at defeating the ghost who now had him
at a slight disadvantage.
 


No matter how slight, though, Severus was not in the mood
to risk the entire match.  With a
flick of his finger, his dice cup was pushed on its side.  “Resign”
 


Salazar’s laugh filled the room.  “Coward, eh? Well, this coward is up 4 points to 3. 
One more and I take the match.  I
believe the proper term isn’t cowardice, it’s cunning.”
 


The legs of the wooden chair Severus sat in scraped along
the stone floor of his office.  Severus
mumbled something about p ofp of tea and reminding him never to play with a
Slytherin again as he stomped to the fireplace and floo’d the elves.
 


He returned with the steaming mug.  “Oh, how rude of me.  Would
you care for a cup of tea, Sal?  It’s
Earl Gray, your favorite.  Oh,
that’s right, you’re dead, aren’t you?  Oh well, sorry.  My
apologies.  How thoughtless of
me.”
 


Severus sat and watched as the board seemed to reset
itself.  One of the annoying things
about only having a ghost to share a game with was the fact that this ghost
refused to be visible. It had been quite disconcerting him to be playing with
“no one”, but over the years, Severus had grown used to it. He had taken
great pains to assure that no one got “too close” to him.  The life he had led outside of the castle had been a
dangerous one. Any sort of relationship would have placed the other person in a
hazardous position had Severus’ role ever been exposed. 
His separation from the rest of the castle by his role in the war had
been difficult; but, he had adjusted to the loneliness that his position as
traitor and spy had forced upon him. 
 


Now, with the war ended not 6 months ago, he found he was
at a loss as to how to rejoin the human population and still opted to spend his
evenings seemingly alone.
 


Severus pushed the self-pitying thoughts of aloneness from
his mind and concentrated on the game before him. 
 


He was being, once again, thoroughly whooped by his
invisible opponent when there was a knock at the door. 
Severus knit his brows a bit in confusion. 
He rarely had visitors to his private chambers and was thoroughly at a
loss as to who his Friday night intruder could be. 
 


With an annoyed huff, he looked once more at the 3 stones
sitting on the bar and at Salazar’s thoroughly blocked home quarter, before
standing and stalking to throw the door open.
 


A tall, willowy beauty with tumbling chestnut curls stood
meekly on the other side.
 


“Miss Granger!  Why
are you disturbing me at this hour of the evening?”
 


Hermione Granger’s brown eyes danced with nervousness. 
Clutched tightly to her chest was a familiar, well-worn tome. 
“I’m just returning the book you leant me. 
I thought you may need it.”  Her
voice was barely audible, squelched by the feelings of nervousness that the
imposing Potions Master elicited in her at their every meeting.
 


She avoided his eyes submissively and glanced behind him. 
The darting glances settled behind him as a smile lit up her face. 
For a moment she forgot herself and stared wide eyed at the backgammon
board, with its pips and dice moving magically on their own.
 


The realization, unknowingly false, that Severus Snape was
forced to play alone with an enchanted board invaded her mind; along with a
feeling of sorrow for the tall figure in black before her.
 


She took a deep breath and plunged in head-first. 
“You play backgammon, Professor??? 
I love the game. I’ve found no one else here who can play competently. 
If you would like, maybe sometime, we could share a game or two??”
 


Severus ripped the volume from her hands. 
“I’m sure your idea of competent and my idea of competent are two
different things, Miss Granger,” he sneered. 
On his visible surface, he held the veneer of disdain that had set him
apart from the rest of Hogwarts for so many years.  Inside,
though, deep in the dark places that had hidden for so long, a glimmer of hope
ignited.  She was an exceedingly brilliant woman.  Maybe a flesh and blood gaming companion would be enjoyable. 
The Gods knew he was sick of Salazar.
 


His hasty words and done their damage, though. 
Hermione shrank back from him.  “Of
course, I’m so sorry.  I’m sure
I’m not up to your level of playing, Professor. 
Please forgive me from being so presumptuous. I’ll leave you alone
to your game.”  She turned from
him and walked hastily down the stone corridor and out of sight.
 


Even though her words were respectfully spoken, they were
intended to wound.  Wound they did. 
 


The slam of the heavy oak door echoed through the dungeons. 
“I resign,” barked Severus.  He
stomped out of the room into his office and slammed that door as well.
 


Hermione Granger had been an annoyance to him from her
first day at the castle.  Always
questioning, always pushing, always showing off her knowledge.  She never had to prove to him that she was brilliant. 
It exuded from every pore of her body. 
She understood the intricacies of even the most difficult potion making
technique, her mind made connections with ingredients that never even occurred
to him.  Yes, she would be a worthy
adversary for him, even if only across the backgammon board.
 


His mind made up, he sat down at his desk and pulled out a
quill and a piece of parchment.
 


In Gryffindor tower, the Seventh Year Head Girl looked out
across the Forbidden Forest from her window. 
The leaves were brilliant shades of red and orange flashing in the
moonlight, matching the temper in her heart. 
Hermione abhorred the way Professor Snape constantly ridiculed her and
dressed her down like a child.  She
was eighteen years old, and the war had added several more years of unfortunate
experiences onto that.  How dare he
treat her like a first year?
 


She was also berating herself for feeling anything for him
in that moment in the dungeons, even if it was a flash of pity for his solitary
lifestyle.  How could anyone stand
to spend time with him, unless it was forced upon them?
 


Her furious musings were interrupted by the sound of
beating wings.  A raven was soon
perched on her windowsill, a scroll tied to its leg. 
Hermione quickly untied the message and stroked the bird’s head in
thanks before reading it.  When the
bird remained perched on the sill, she assumed that it was waiting for a reply
and unrolled the message.
 


Anyone who would have been watching Hermione Granger at
that moment would have seen a multitude of emotions play over her face.
 


 


 


Miss Granger,


Perhaps I spoke in haste this evening. 
I’m sure you are a most capable backgammon player.


 


If you would like, we could play a match tomorrow evening
after dinner in my quarters.  Three
point match, no doubling.
 


Please send your reply via my familiar.


 


SS


 


P.S. I’m sure, for obvious reasons on both of out
parts, we will keep this to ourselves.


 


 


First came wide-eyed surprise as she recognized Severus
Snape’s neat handwriting.  Then,
the pleased smile as she realized she would finally enjoy a decent game of
backgammon.  Then, finally, the
narrowed, suspicious stare as the realization sank in.
 


Why was Professor Snape challenging her to a match? 
 


Still, she was not one to back down from a challenge, even
when it was as dark and overpowering as this one.  Hermione sat down at her desk and scratched out a reply on a
fresh piece of parchment.
 


Professor Snape,


I am most pleased to accept your offer of a match. 
I’ll see you tomorrow after dinner.


 


Sincerely,


Hermione Granger


 


P.S.  You
can be assured, I will not be sharing the information of our match with anyone.


 


Hermione rolled the parchment and tied it to the raven’s
leg. 
 


Being a ghost had its advantages, and Salazar Slytherin
took advantage of them all the time. Among his favorites were walking through
walls to peep on the Seventh Year girls in the shower, appearing out of no-where
to scare Albus Dumbledore out of his afternoon musings, and reading private
messages over Snape’s shoulder.
 


The founder of the House of Slytherin chuckled as he
floated out of Snape’s office.  “Let
the games begin.”