50 Points From Gryffindor

Chapter One

After overseeing her duties as Head Girl, Hermione headed to the Gryffindor table where her best friends were saving her a seat. She sat down just as the food appeared on the tables.

Watching Ron fill his plate as quickly as he could she said, “Really, Ron. You act as if you haven’t eaten all week.”

Ron grinned and said, “I’m a growing man, ‘Mione. I need to be able to keep up with Luna. You have no idea how much she­”

“Stop right there, Ron. As much as I appreciate the fact that you are finally having sex, I really do not need the details of it.” Hermione caught Harry’s eye from across the table and grinned at him.

Ron muttered something unintelligible as he stuffed more food into his mouth.

“Looks like I won the bet, Ginny,” Harry commented.

“Bloody hell,” Ginny exclaimed, glancing at the Head Table where all the professors were beginning to fill their own plates.

“What bet?” Hermione asked.

“Well,” Ginny started. “I thought, foolishly thought, that Professor Snape would be in a better mood this year, seeing as how Voldemort was finally defeated. But he still looks to be the same nasty git he always has been.”

Hermione couldn’t help but look up at the Head Table at Professor Snape. He did look like his usual self, trying not to get tangled in a conversation with Professor McGonagall. She watched as a lock of his black hair fell in front of his eyes, and he jerked his head in an effort to put it back in its proper place. Hermione had avoided going anywhere that would put her in close contact with the Professor in her first days back at school. She hadn’t wanted to see him, or remember what had happened the last few days of term last year as she had stood in his arms, not once, but twice.

It hadn’t done her any good to be away from him over the summer, as those images had played in her head every night as she had laid down to sleep. She didn’t know what had caused her to look at Professor Snape as a man instead of the greasy git that her friends saw him as, but whatever it was, it unsettled her. It wasn’t as if his appearance had changed in any way. His hair still looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks, his nose was still hooked and his teeth hadn’t gotten any whiter.

She didn’t know how to react to him, not after feeling that he had almost kissed her at the end of the Final Battle. She had tried to tell herself that it hadn’t happened like that and that kissing her had not been his intention, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She tried to convince herself that it had just happened in the heat of the moment, and that Professor Snape would never look at her as a woman if he hadn’t been injured. The truth was that she didn’t really know what had happened that night, even though it had effectively turned her life upside down.

Whatever magic had gotten into her that night, she hadn’t been able to get her mind off of him holding her closely to his body, being able to feel the hard muscles that he tried so hard to hide beneath his robes. As she had stared into his eyes, she had seen something that had never been there before. Something was boiling in those dark eyes and she knew it wasn’t rage or contempt. For the first time, Hermione had felt more like a woman and less like an asexual bookworm. When she thought of him, she began to feel things in her body that she had never experienced before.

She found herself caught in a trap as she stared at him at the Head Table. To her utter shock and embarrassment, Professor Snape looked up from his plate and his eyes connected with hers. Quickly looking away, Hermione felt her face flare with embarrassment. He had actually caught her looking at him. As she sat staring at her hands, Hermione realized something significant. His gaze hadn’t roamed the hall before stopping on her, he had actually looked up and looked directly at her, almost as if he had felt her gaze on him and was looking specifically for her. Hermione shook her head, realizing she had to be wrong. He had probably been looking at Harry to see if he was doing something that would cost Gryffindor house points.

“Hey Mudblood, this seat taken?”

Hermione looked up as she watched Draco Malfoy swagger up the aisle. She couldn’t help smiling as he headed directly towards her. “There’s not much room, but I’m sure it’s big enough for a ferret.”

Draco laughed as he took a seat backwards on the bench right next to her, leaning back on the table with his elbows and keeping his long legs stretched into the aisle.

At the end of their sixth year, Draco had pulled through and had gone against his father and the Death Eaters. He hadn’t wanted to be the heir apparent as his father had wanted, and had finally gone to Dumbledore for help and protection. He had fought admirably in the final battle and had earned the quiet respect of the trio.

Over the summer, Draco had gone to the Burrow for the express purpose of seeking Hermione out and apologizing for his father’s and his own actions from previous years. Draco, Ron and Harry had formed a tentative friendship, but he and Hermione had found a much deeper bond. Draco had been the one that held Hermione that summer while she had cried about her family, and she had been the one to make Draco see that just because his father was a cruel and evil man, he didn’t have to follow in his footsteps. Hermione had truly been impressed as she had watched Draco adapt into being a great person. She now knew when he called her a Mudblood, it wasn’t a form of hatred, it was just a way to get under her skin and tease her.

“Have you given any more thought to what I asked you on the train?” Draco asked her while acknowledging Harry, Ron and Ginny with a nod of his head.

Hermione shrugged and said, “Seeing as how my choice is either you or Neville, and I would like to pass my Potions NEWT, there really is no choice.”

“Wonderful,” Draco drawled. “It’s just bloody wonderful that you see me as the lesser of two evils. I was hoping you would think more along the lines of the two best Potions students being partners.”

Hermione smirked. “You’ll never overthrow me as the best, Draco.”

“We’ll see, won’t we, Granger?” he retorted as he stood up from the table with a genuine smile. “Sounds like a challenge to me.” He leaned down close to her ear and dropped his voice to a whisper. “We Slytherins don’t play fair,” he stated, and then to her utter shock, he gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek.

Hermione blushed as she watched Draco walk to the Slytherin table. As he took his seat between Crabbe and Goyle, he looked up at her and winked, causing Hermione to burst out in laughter.

“You’re nutters, ‘Mione,” Ron noted through a mouthful of food. “I still don’t see how you can laugh with that git.”

“Oh Ronald, really,” Hermione sighed. “He isn’t that bad once you get to know him.”

“Hermione should know,” Ginny teased with the laughter shining in her eyes. “She knows him very well.”

Hermione scoffed at Ginny’s joke as Ron and Harry pretended to get sick on their plates. “Really, Ginny, must you encourage them so?” Hermione asked as she shook her head, and in doing so, snuck a quick peek at the Head Table. If it had been possible for Professor Snape to look even nastier than he normally did, Hermione thought that the murderous rage in his eyes now directed at Draco would be it.

“Who do you suppose the extra chair at the Head Table is for?” Harry asked, breaking into Hermione’s thoughts of her Professor.

The four of them turned their heads to look at the table, each mentally going through the Professors. “Everyone’s there, even Sirius,” Ginny said.

Sirius had been appointed as the Care of Magical Creatures instructor in Hagrid’s absence. After the final battle, Hagrid had decided to go visit Madame Maxime at Beauxbatons and still had not returned. He had requested that Dumbledore find someone to fill in for him in the interim, and Sirius had been the one that Dumbledore had chosen, pleasing Harry immensely. Instead of just seeing Sirius on holidays, Harry would get to see his godfather daily. Now that Sirius was teaching and Professor Lupin had come back to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry was regaled with tales of the Marauders days at Hogwarts on a daily basis.

“Well, I don’t see Trelawney,” Hermione smirked; thinking of the one professor that she felt didn’t deserve to be called a ‘Professor.’

Ginny rolled her eyes. “There’s never a place for her. She would never grace us with her presence, so I can’t imagine it would be for her.”

“Who cares?” Ron mumbled through another mouthful of food. “We’ll find out sooner or later. I just can’t figure out why the Greasy Git doesn’t seem happier. He doesn’t have to live his double life any more. I would think he would at least be a bit more cheerful.”

Harry sighed and responded, saving Hermione from even trying to think of a dignified response. “He won’t ever be cheerful, at least until I graduate. I don’t think he has a kind bone in his body, especially while I am in residence.”

Hermione tuned out her friends as they continued to vent about Professor Snape. She didn’t want to hear it anymore. After six years it was getting very old. Each time she tried to speak up and defend him she just got shot down and accused of actually liking him. Not that she didn’t like him, of course. She had a respect for him that she knew Harry and Ron would never show.

Professor Snape had risked his life every day going back and forth between Dumbledore and Voldemort. It was amazing that he hadn’t been discovered and forced to put up with more abuse from Voldemort, or possibly even be killed for his treachery. Even though she realized he was dreadful to the students, part of her understood that it was just his unhappy life that caused him to be that way.

Hermione snapped out of her reverie when she saw that some of the students were beginning to leave their tables. Grabbing her books off the table, she hurried to the back of the Great Hall where Draco was waiting for her. As Head Boy and Girl it was their duty to make sure no scuffles broke out as people were heading to classes.

After ten minutes, the Great Hall was clear and they knew they had to rush to Potions. Hermione had wished that she could have found a way out of her first potions class of the year, but knew that was not a possibility. This was the first time in her life that she had dreaded actually going to a class. Hermione had to force herself to hurry alongside Draco. Professor Snape might not take points from Draco for arriving late, but if it were Hermione, he would certainly deduct as many points as he possibly could without causing a mutiny.

Hermione skidded in the door just after Draco and was relieved to see that Professor Snape had not yet arrived. Hermione followed Draco to one of the workstations in the front of the room. They had decided over the summer that it would be best for them to be partners, as they were the best in the class. Even though the other students in the class had achieved high enough scores to be in the class, they were still no match for Hermione and Draco.

Hermione had just placed her Potions book on her desk and had removed her quill and parchment from her bag when the classroom door slammed shut. Hermione jumped and felt her stomach flutter in nervousness. She hadn’t been this close to Professor Snape since the night of the final battle and she was not anticipating the way he would treat her.

Hermione couldn’t meet his gaze as he stood in front of his desk at the front of the classroom. “I see that our class has gotten considerably smaller since last term. As fortunate as that may be, I do see that some unexpected students have managed to continue in this class.” Without looking up, Hermione knew he was talking about Neville, Harry and Ron. “I would certainly hope that the person you have chosen to sit with is capable of brewing potions and not melting cauldrons, as they will become your partner for the rest of the year.”

Hermione snuck a quick glance around the room to see who had been unfortunate enough to sit next to Neville. She nearly chuckled as she saw the worried look Padme Patil had on her face as she glanced at the boy next to her.

Hermione did a quick count and realized there were only ten students that had made it to the NEWT level class. They had lost six students since last year. Hermione was impressed to note that five of the ten students were Gryffindor; Harry, Ron, Parvati, Neville and herself; Draco was the lone Slytherin; Anthony Goldstein the only Ravenclaw; and the other three, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones and Ernie McMillian were all from Hufflepuff.

“Be warned that the potions we will be brewing this year will be complicated and challenging,” Professor Snape continued. “You will be responsible for the work your partner turns in as well. Imagine if your partner was brewing the Draught of the Living Dead and managed to melt the cauldron.”

Hermione couldn’t restrain herself as she heard the quiet groan coming from Padme. Hermione giggled, and tried to cover it up by coughing, but Draco wasn’t fooled. He nudged her foot with his own to try and get her to calm down.

“Miss Granger,” Professor Snape sneered, causing Hermione’s head to snap up meeting the black eyes that she had been thinking about all summer. “I daresay you have not changed. You are still incapable of controlling yourself.”

Hermione had the grace to blush and glance down at her hands folded on the table. ‘It’s only the first day and already he is picking on me,’ she thought to herself.

“Be that as it may,” the professor continued, “The first potion we will deal with this term is a very complex potion, a potion that will take us thirty days to complete. Once completed, the Polyjuice Potion we are brewing will be tested between your partner and yourself.” With a flick of his wand, the ingredients and instructions were listed on the board in the front of the room. “I would recommend that the more detail-oriented partner write down a copy of the instructions as the other partner collects the ingredients from the supply closet. The instructions will be listed on the board for today’s class only.”

Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron, and found that they were both grinning back at her. They had experience with this potion so it was the best potion for them to make for their last year of classes.

Professor Snape headed behind his desk to sit down, and without looking up at the class, he murmured, “Mr. Longbottom, I would sit back down. If you do not want to severely alter Miss Patil, I would suggest she not only collect the ingredients but also copy the instructions.”

Hermione watched as Neville slunk back to his seat, clearly embarrassed by the Professor’s words. Padme looked angry as she quickly tried to get everything done. Draco had gone to get the supplies, so Hermione began copying the potion instructions down, very careful not to miss a line, although since she had successfully brewed this potion in her second year, she was not concerned about doing something incorrectly.

As she wrote, Hermione took a glance at Professor Snape, now sitting behind his desk, his quill scratching on a piece of parchment. He hadn’t treated her any differently than in her previous years of Potions, not that she had expected him to fall at her feet. When she wasn’t lying to herself, she could admit she was more than a little hurt that he hadn’t even tried to be a bit kinder. They had almost kissed for bugger’s sake. It was then that Hermione realized that this infatuation she had with him might just be one-sided, with it all on her side. Professor Snape had never needed anyone in his life, so why would she be stupid enough to think he needed her all of a sudden. However, Hermione was nothing if not persistent in getting what she wanted. The whole question in her head was what was it she wanted exactly. She wasn’t sure, but whatever had been between them that night needed to be resolved. Research was in order, and if there was one thing Hermione was confident in, it was her ability to research and get answers.

When Draco returned with the supplies, Hermione pulled herself from her wonderings and they immediately set to work. Having done this all before, Hermione was finding it difficult to concentrate and she kept glancing at Neville nervously. She had always helped him before, so she knew it was important to keep her eye on him this year.

“Still planning on helping Longbottom?” Draco whispered, noticing Hermione glance at the clumsy boy every so often.

Hermione smirked at Draco as she responded, “As Professor Snape stated himself, I haven’t changed and I am still incapable of restraining myself.” Draco chuckled at her comment as Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes.

The next second Hermione found herself startled as she heard the classroom door bang open. She didn’t know anyone who had the nerve to disturb a Potions class and as she glanced at Professor Snape’s face she could tell that he was ready to rage angrily and demoralize whoever had the audacity to enter the classroom.

She turned to watch the poor intruder that would be the victim of Professor Snape’s wrath, and gasped as she saw who had entered the room. He was a duplicate of Professor Snape, right down to the billowing black robes.

Hermione frowned, realizing one thing was different. The man that had just entered the room actually had a smile on his face. “So that’s what Snape would look like if he smiled,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Hello, big brother. Did you miss me?” the man said with a grin as he crossed to Professor Snape’s desk. The Potions Master stood up from his chair, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.