It\'s All Fun and Games Until ...
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Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
5,584
Reviews:
32
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Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
5,584
Reviews:
32
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Go Directly to Jail
Go Directly to Jail, Do Not Pass Go
Hermione entered the corridor minutes before noon, all her attention focused on rifling through her bulging school bag. She had packed several Muggle board games as well as her Potions notes for the last two years. She had hopes of sneaking some revising in while the others played games.
Her focus was so great that she didn’t notice the dark form part form the shadows near the wall to block her path until it was too late. The collision was minor, just enough force to throw Hermione off balance.
Strong hands closed around her biceps to steady her, warm and slightly calloused against the bare skin of her arms. A bolt of electricity shot through her and her flesh goose-pimpled.
“You are out of uniform, Ms. Granger.”
“Professor Snape? ... Professor Snape! What are you doing here?” She stepped back, out of his reach, and began to edge past him toward the door.
He had that incredibly annoying smirk on his face. “I thought that should be fairly obvious, even to you. Where is your uniform?”
While Professor Snape had chosen to wear his normal attire of teaching robes and frock coat, Hermione had taken advantage of the informal weekend dress code. Her denims, trainers and collared, short-sleeve shirt were perfectly acceptable for sitting around playing games.
“It’s Saturday, sir. Professor Dumbledore wants us to feel comfortable and less concerned with our houses at these things. We’re encouraged to be informal here. About a lot of things. Didn’t he tell you?”
A glare was her only answer.
Hermione was about to escape through the door to the Room of Requirement when she noticed the way he kept rubbing the palms of his hands against the cloth of his coat. The movement stopped and she knew he had caught the look.
Before he could issue another cutting remark, Hermione ducked through the doorway.
She was please to see most of the regulars milling about the room. Padma Patil and Ernie MacMillian were seated side-by-side at one of the small tables. Their heads were close together, and a book was open before them. Terry Boot was at the other table investigating the large variety of snack food and beverages provided by the house elves. He popped the cap off of a bottle of something orange and bubbly and nodded to her.
Ginny Weasley and Hannah Abbott were seated on a small blue plaid couch. They were casting nervous glances at the matching wing-backed chair near the empty fireplace.
Hermione couldn’t see who was in the chair; only a nicely manicured hand was visible on the armrest. The thin fingers were tapping rhythmically against the plaid fabric.
The door closed softly behind Hermione, and Ginny looked up at the small sound. Her welcoming smile died and her eyes widened in shock. Hannah’s squeak of surprise confirmed Hermione’s suspicion that Professor Snape had followed her into the room and was now standing behind her.
Draco’s head suddenly appeared as he leaned over the side of the chair. “It’s about time you two showed up. I want it noted that I was on time for this ... fiasco.”
“Duly noted, Mr. Malfoy.” Snape stepped around Hermione and crossed the room to inspect the food selection. His robes brushed against her legs and she stepped back before she could stop herself.
Terry bolted, ending up behind the couch near Hannah and Ginny.
“Have your fun and get this over with as quickly as possible,” Professor Snape sneered.
Hermione noted that everyone in the room sat up straighter when he spoke, the habit of years in the Potions classroom was impossible to break.
No one said a word. Or moved. Time seemed to come to a complete and utter stop.
Hermione finally noticed that Ginny was sending her some sort of frantic message; her head kept tilting toward the wing-backed chair, her eyebrows jumping up and down like two orange caterpillars having seizures. Frankly, Hermione hadn’t a clue what the younger girl wanted.
Professor Snape seemed to be using one long finger (Hermione felt her stomach muscles clench uncomfortable) to poke suspiciously at a brightly colored confection.
“Well,” said Hermione, unsure of how to begin. Almost everyone turned to look at her. “Right then.”
Draco stood and deftly smoothed the wrinkles out of his pale green dress shirt and dark slacks.
*He looks as if he has something to say, this should be good.* Hermione waited for him to finish his grooming.
He stalked across the room; his gait wasn’t quite as impressive as Professor Snape’s, but it was close. *All he needs is a billowy robe.*
Draco paused a few feet from her to survey the room. “I can’t say it’s been fun. I fulfilled my obligation to be here, now I’m leaving.”
Over Draco’s shoulder Hermione could see Ginny desperately mouthing, “Keep him here!” Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped in front of the blond.
*The things I do for friendship.*
Draco tried to step around her and she moved to intercept, her face flushing with embarrassment. Even Professor Snape pulled himself away from the snack table to watch the altercation.
“Out of my way, Granger.”
“But...” Hermione looked around the room for inspiration. She saw the bookcase filled with board game boxes. “We haven’t played any games yet. Terry’s our reigning Riddles N’ Rhymes champion. Don’t you want a chance to dethrone him? Or Magical Milton’s Truth or Consequences?”
Draco’s glare might have given her pause if she hadn’t been exposed to a far more menacing version in the corridor less than ten minutes ago.
He pushed her aside with nowhere near the force she would have expected a year ago. Hermione offered a sad smile to the disappointed Ginny and shrugged.
*What more could I do, short of tackling the fleeing Slytherin?*
Draco’s muttered curse reached her ears at the same time she met Professor Snape’s look. Was he ... amused? Because Draco had blown her off?
“Damn it, Granger, what did you do to the door?” Draco’s rather insistent yell startled her. She whipped around to find him pulling ineffectually on the doorknob.
“I didn’t do anything to the door, Malfoy.” Hermione put emphasis on his name, hoping the blond prat would find it just as annoying as she did.
He stopped battling with the door long enough to sneer at her. “If you didn’t lock it, who did? You seem awfully insistent on keeping me here. Let me clear it up for you, you’re not my type. I don’t go for repressed bookworms.”
Hermione stammered. “You ... you ... Alohomora!”
Reflexes born from years of fighting with the Golden Trio had Draco dodging the second her wand appeared.
A swish of fabric signaled the rapid approach of the Potions Master, but Hermione was too angry to care.
“Merlin’s balls, Hermione. I was kidding.” Draco held his hands up defensively. True, the first spell was harmless, but the look on Hermione’s face was not.
“Language, Mr. Malfoy.” A pale hand wrapped around the wrist of her wand hand. She allowed the gentle pressure he was exerting to lower her arm. Hermione looked from his hand, still holding hers, to his face. Her heart still thudded from the earlier burst of adrenaline.
Professor Snape wasn’t looking at her; he was frowning at Drac“Try“Try the door again.”
Now that Hermione’s wand was no longer pointed directly at him, Draco seemed to get his confidence back. He tugged on the doorknob to no avail.
Professor Snape dropped her wrist and Hermione wasn’t sure if she was happy or disappointed in the loss of contact.
Draco turned and, for the second time in one day, found himself confrd wid with a drawn wand, this tiroferofessor Snape’s. Draco immediately back away from the door.
“Alohomora.”
Despite the Potions Master’s oft-stated contempt for “foolish wand waving,” he appeared to be quite skilled at it.
She was gratified to see that his attempt failed toock ock the door as well. Seeing him gloat at her failure would have been more than a little irritating, especially considering how hard she’d been working this last year to prove to him that she wasn’t a silly little girl.
Professor Snape’s lips thinned as he frowned at the stuck door. The index finger of his free hand tapped against his lower lip.
Hermione opened her mouth to make a suggestion and he held up his hand in warning. She bit the inside of her cheek and silently fumed.
The rest of the room’s occupants finally seemed to realize something was wrong. Hermione could feel them crowding in behind her.
“Finite Incantatum.” Professor Snape’s voice was firm and confident as he recited the incantation.
Still, the knob refused to turn.
She could hold her tongue no longer. “You should try...”
Suddenly he turned, wand held stiffly at his side. Her words died in her throat as he took the few steps necessary to close in on her. “I have not asked for your advice, girl. If, Merlin forbid, the day should ever come when I feel the need to solicit advice from you, I will gladly admit myself to St. Mungo’s.”
She could feel her wand vibrate with her barely suppressed emotion. “That is it. How dare you...”
His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward until they were nearlye-toe-to-face. “How dare I what, Miss Granger?”
“You insufferable...”
“Professor Snape?” Hannah’s uncertain voice broke through the red haze of Hermione’s anger.
He straightened, giving Hermione one last look that clearly told her the discussion was not over.
“What, Miss Abbott?”
The others parted, leaving a clear view of the Hufflepuff fidgeting near the fireplace. She held a soot-covered envelope.
“This just fell out of the grate. It’s addressed to you, sir.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N - Short chapter, I know, but the story seems to be calling for shorter chapters at the moment. Plus, things have been hectic in RL lately. I\'m trying to update at once a week if not more. Thanks for reading.
Hermione entered the corridor minutes before noon, all her attention focused on rifling through her bulging school bag. She had packed several Muggle board games as well as her Potions notes for the last two years. She had hopes of sneaking some revising in while the others played games.
Her focus was so great that she didn’t notice the dark form part form the shadows near the wall to block her path until it was too late. The collision was minor, just enough force to throw Hermione off balance.
Strong hands closed around her biceps to steady her, warm and slightly calloused against the bare skin of her arms. A bolt of electricity shot through her and her flesh goose-pimpled.
“You are out of uniform, Ms. Granger.”
“Professor Snape? ... Professor Snape! What are you doing here?” She stepped back, out of his reach, and began to edge past him toward the door.
He had that incredibly annoying smirk on his face. “I thought that should be fairly obvious, even to you. Where is your uniform?”
While Professor Snape had chosen to wear his normal attire of teaching robes and frock coat, Hermione had taken advantage of the informal weekend dress code. Her denims, trainers and collared, short-sleeve shirt were perfectly acceptable for sitting around playing games.
“It’s Saturday, sir. Professor Dumbledore wants us to feel comfortable and less concerned with our houses at these things. We’re encouraged to be informal here. About a lot of things. Didn’t he tell you?”
A glare was her only answer.
Hermione was about to escape through the door to the Room of Requirement when she noticed the way he kept rubbing the palms of his hands against the cloth of his coat. The movement stopped and she knew he had caught the look.
Before he could issue another cutting remark, Hermione ducked through the doorway.
She was please to see most of the regulars milling about the room. Padma Patil and Ernie MacMillian were seated side-by-side at one of the small tables. Their heads were close together, and a book was open before them. Terry Boot was at the other table investigating the large variety of snack food and beverages provided by the house elves. He popped the cap off of a bottle of something orange and bubbly and nodded to her.
Ginny Weasley and Hannah Abbott were seated on a small blue plaid couch. They were casting nervous glances at the matching wing-backed chair near the empty fireplace.
Hermione couldn’t see who was in the chair; only a nicely manicured hand was visible on the armrest. The thin fingers were tapping rhythmically against the plaid fabric.
The door closed softly behind Hermione, and Ginny looked up at the small sound. Her welcoming smile died and her eyes widened in shock. Hannah’s squeak of surprise confirmed Hermione’s suspicion that Professor Snape had followed her into the room and was now standing behind her.
Draco’s head suddenly appeared as he leaned over the side of the chair. “It’s about time you two showed up. I want it noted that I was on time for this ... fiasco.”
“Duly noted, Mr. Malfoy.” Snape stepped around Hermione and crossed the room to inspect the food selection. His robes brushed against her legs and she stepped back before she could stop herself.
Terry bolted, ending up behind the couch near Hannah and Ginny.
“Have your fun and get this over with as quickly as possible,” Professor Snape sneered.
Hermione noted that everyone in the room sat up straighter when he spoke, the habit of years in the Potions classroom was impossible to break.
No one said a word. Or moved. Time seemed to come to a complete and utter stop.
Hermione finally noticed that Ginny was sending her some sort of frantic message; her head kept tilting toward the wing-backed chair, her eyebrows jumping up and down like two orange caterpillars having seizures. Frankly, Hermione hadn’t a clue what the younger girl wanted.
Professor Snape seemed to be using one long finger (Hermione felt her stomach muscles clench uncomfortable) to poke suspiciously at a brightly colored confection.
“Well,” said Hermione, unsure of how to begin. Almost everyone turned to look at her. “Right then.”
Draco stood and deftly smoothed the wrinkles out of his pale green dress shirt and dark slacks.
*He looks as if he has something to say, this should be good.* Hermione waited for him to finish his grooming.
He stalked across the room; his gait wasn’t quite as impressive as Professor Snape’s, but it was close. *All he needs is a billowy robe.*
Draco paused a few feet from her to survey the room. “I can’t say it’s been fun. I fulfilled my obligation to be here, now I’m leaving.”
Over Draco’s shoulder Hermione could see Ginny desperately mouthing, “Keep him here!” Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped in front of the blond.
*The things I do for friendship.*
Draco tried to step around her and she moved to intercept, her face flushing with embarrassment. Even Professor Snape pulled himself away from the snack table to watch the altercation.
“Out of my way, Granger.”
“But...” Hermione looked around the room for inspiration. She saw the bookcase filled with board game boxes. “We haven’t played any games yet. Terry’s our reigning Riddles N’ Rhymes champion. Don’t you want a chance to dethrone him? Or Magical Milton’s Truth or Consequences?”
Draco’s glare might have given her pause if she hadn’t been exposed to a far more menacing version in the corridor less than ten minutes ago.
He pushed her aside with nowhere near the force she would have expected a year ago. Hermione offered a sad smile to the disappointed Ginny and shrugged.
*What more could I do, short of tackling the fleeing Slytherin?*
Draco’s muttered curse reached her ears at the same time she met Professor Snape’s look. Was he ... amused? Because Draco had blown her off?
“Damn it, Granger, what did you do to the door?” Draco’s rather insistent yell startled her. She whipped around to find him pulling ineffectually on the doorknob.
“I didn’t do anything to the door, Malfoy.” Hermione put emphasis on his name, hoping the blond prat would find it just as annoying as she did.
He stopped battling with the door long enough to sneer at her. “If you didn’t lock it, who did? You seem awfully insistent on keeping me here. Let me clear it up for you, you’re not my type. I don’t go for repressed bookworms.”
Hermione stammered. “You ... you ... Alohomora!”
Reflexes born from years of fighting with the Golden Trio had Draco dodging the second her wand appeared.
A swish of fabric signaled the rapid approach of the Potions Master, but Hermione was too angry to care.
“Merlin’s balls, Hermione. I was kidding.” Draco held his hands up defensively. True, the first spell was harmless, but the look on Hermione’s face was not.
“Language, Mr. Malfoy.” A pale hand wrapped around the wrist of her wand hand. She allowed the gentle pressure he was exerting to lower her arm. Hermione looked from his hand, still holding hers, to his face. Her heart still thudded from the earlier burst of adrenaline.
Professor Snape wasn’t looking at her; he was frowning at Drac“Try“Try the door again.”
Now that Hermione’s wand was no longer pointed directly at him, Draco seemed to get his confidence back. He tugged on the doorknob to no avail.
Professor Snape dropped her wrist and Hermione wasn’t sure if she was happy or disappointed in the loss of contact.
Draco turned and, for the second time in one day, found himself confrd wid with a drawn wand, this tiroferofessor Snape’s. Draco immediately back away from the door.
“Alohomora.”
Despite the Potions Master’s oft-stated contempt for “foolish wand waving,” he appeared to be quite skilled at it.
She was gratified to see that his attempt failed toock ock the door as well. Seeing him gloat at her failure would have been more than a little irritating, especially considering how hard she’d been working this last year to prove to him that she wasn’t a silly little girl.
Professor Snape’s lips thinned as he frowned at the stuck door. The index finger of his free hand tapped against his lower lip.
Hermione opened her mouth to make a suggestion and he held up his hand in warning. She bit the inside of her cheek and silently fumed.
The rest of the room’s occupants finally seemed to realize something was wrong. Hermione could feel them crowding in behind her.
“Finite Incantatum.” Professor Snape’s voice was firm and confident as he recited the incantation.
Still, the knob refused to turn.
She could hold her tongue no longer. “You should try...”
Suddenly he turned, wand held stiffly at his side. Her words died in her throat as he took the few steps necessary to close in on her. “I have not asked for your advice, girl. If, Merlin forbid, the day should ever come when I feel the need to solicit advice from you, I will gladly admit myself to St. Mungo’s.”
She could feel her wand vibrate with her barely suppressed emotion. “That is it. How dare you...”
His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward until they were nearlye-toe-to-face. “How dare I what, Miss Granger?”
“You insufferable...”
“Professor Snape?” Hannah’s uncertain voice broke through the red haze of Hermione’s anger.
He straightened, giving Hermione one last look that clearly told her the discussion was not over.
“What, Miss Abbott?”
The others parted, leaving a clear view of the Hufflepuff fidgeting near the fireplace. She held a soot-covered envelope.
“This just fell out of the grate. It’s addressed to you, sir.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N - Short chapter, I know, but the story seems to be calling for shorter chapters at the moment. Plus, things have been hectic in RL lately. I\'m trying to update at once a week if not more. Thanks for reading.