It\'s All Fun and Games Until ...

King Me

Against his better judgement, Severus took the empty seat on the sofa and joined the game.

The next two hours passed with frustrating slowness as the mad dash for un-purchased properties began. Severus managed to lay claim on Mayfair amid a wave of groans from several of the others.

Draco wormed his way into possession of the Old Kent and Whitechaple low rent district and proceeded to invest large amounts of the hideously colored faux money into buildings, the end result being two red chunks of wood called “hotels”.

Every time someone landed on one of the two properties, the fool boy would giggle inappropriately and demand his rent in such a manner that Severus could almost picture him twirling a thick handle bar moustache.

MacMillian had a few houses a piece on the red properties. He had taken the last of Patil’s money half an hour ago.

Severus almost envied her freedom from the game.

Severus himself had bankrupted Boot, managing to acquire Park Lane in the process. A few houses were evenly distributed on Mayfair and Park Lane, generating a nice little revenue when someone was unfortunate enough to land on them.

Weasley owned the only other monopoly, the orange block near the useless square labeled “Free Parking”. Granger had two-thirds of the green squares near his own claim.

Abbott was barely in the game. She had a pitifully small stack of money and only one deed, the missing third of Granger’s set, Oxford St.

And thanks to a poor die result, it looked like Abbott was about to lose that.

“Whitechaple with a hotel. That’s ₤450.” Draco crowed.

Abbott carefully counted her stack of mostly tens, fives and ones. “I ... I don’t have enough.”

Before Draco could reach across the table to snap up what she did have, Hermione leaned forward. “May I have a word, Hannah? In private.”

The two ladies moved to the far corner behind Boot and Patil’s current chess game. From the frantic whispering and the furtive glances in Draco’s direction it seemed that Hermione was bartering a deal.

Severus heard what sounded like his name being whispered in the corner, and judging from the guilty look on Abbott’s face when he made eye contact, it probably was. Hermione noticed his look and moved to stand between the Hufflepuff and himself, her back turned to him.

*Interesting.*

A minute later both ladies returned to the table, and Hermione handed the majority of her funds over to Abbott. Abbott passed the deed to Oxford St. to Hermione.

“Here’s your money, Draco.” The money she’d received from Hermione more than covered what she owed Draco.

Draco’s mouth hung open like a carp. “You can’t do that. She can’t do that. Can she?” He turned to Weasley for confirmation.

“She can, and did. No one said she was limited to making deals with the person she owed money to.” Weasely leaned so close she was nearly in Draco’s lap. “You and I could barter at any time. I’m very interested in your rail station.”

Severus was about to quit the game in disgust – anymore displays like that and he wouldn’t be able to avoid being sick – when he noticed Hermione. She looked as ill as he felt.

Abbott’s turn ended and the dice were passed. MacMillian landed on Hermione’s Kings Cross station. Rent changed hands and then it was Hermione’s turn.

Her deal with Abbott had completed her monopoly, which she took advantage of by spending most of what was left of her money on houses for all three properties.

Severus raised an eyebrow at the move. She didn’t have much left, and at this stage of the game rental costs were beginning to get steep. *Was she betting on collecting rent before she ran out of currency?*

A roll of four found her token deposited on Weasley’s Vine St. property.

The two ladies made eye contact and without a word rose up from the table. The redhead lead the way across the room, holding open the bathroom door and indicating that Hermione should enter first.

Severus changed his mind about quitting the game, for the moment at least. He was mildly interested in seeing what arraignment Hermione managed to negotiate for herself.

His interest piqued when the high pitched squeal of “Are you out of your mind?” pierced the air. Whatever Miss Weasley had suggested, it didn’t seem to sit well with Hermione.

The door opened moments later and both ladies returned to the table. Hermione looked ... different. The change was subtle, and he shouldn’t have noticed.

*Wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t spent so much time looking at her... erm, let’s just say looking at her and leaving it at that, shall we?*

Her skin was flushed. The vee of her blouse wider, showcasing the barest hint of cleavage as she breathed. Her hair was loose and wild, eyes darker than he remembered.

*Merlin’s beard, she was stimulating.*

She passed a single white bill to the Weasley girl and studied her remaining pile as if willing more money to appear.

Weasley leaned closer to Hermione and must have done something under the cover of the table because the brunette yelped in pain.

She passed the dice to the redhead with a glare and stood.

“Ernie, Hannah, can I get you anything? Something to drink?”

With a small shake of her head and an eye roll, Weasley continued the game.

MacMillian was very interested in food, or maybe it was the thought of the Head Girl waiting on him that sparked his interest.

Weasley landed on Picadilly, and Severus lost track of Hermione in the ensuing attempt to collect his rent. He vaguely heard her talk to Patil and Boot.

“Professor Snape? Is there anything I can do for you?”

*Did I imagine the tone she just used? The ‘I wouldn’t be opposed to a quick shag against the nearest wall’ tone? I must have imagined it.*

Severus turned to tell her to please sit down and stop holding up the game and froze, his nose tantalizingly close to the womanly assets on display before him.

Hermione was leaning on the arm of the sofa, bent toward him, waiting for his answer. The deep vee of her blouse was at Severus’ eye level, and he fought the urge to bury his nose in the shadowed valley of her cleavage.

She leaned closer, close enough that he could feel her breath on his face. Her low, husky whisper – meant solely for his ears – wrapped around him like satin. “If you don’t want anything here, we could probably arrange for something ... more adult.”

The roomful of potential witnesses kept him from reacting with either of his first two instincts – annihilating her verbally for daring to taunt a professor, or grabbing her and proving how dangerous it was to taunt this professor.

Instead, Severus arched a brow at her, cool mask in place.

“I doubt seriously there is anything ‘adult’ that you could offer me, Miss Granger.”

For a split second she looked uncertain, then something – most likely her idiotic Gryffindor courage – kicked in. Her eyes opened wide in a faux look of innocence.

“By this point in the day Madam Hooch usually had a house-elf bring her a pint. Or two. And Professor McGonagall enjoyed a bit of a tipple.” Impossibly, she leaned closer still, and Severus could not avoid her scent. She was definitely breaking the boundaries of propriety by being so close to him.

Something was going to have to be done ... he just wasn’t sure of what.

She continued. “She even let some of the more mature of us have a little ... taste.” She drew back slowly, her small smile nearly faltering at his look of indifference.

“No? Let me know if you change your mind, sir. I would be more than willing.”

Hermione turned to Draco and Weasley to ask if they wanted anything and Severus tried to control the heat in his veins.

*Little tart. How dare she come on to me like some sort of ... of ... She just came on to me. She came on to me.*

A feral grin spread across Severus’ face. *All right, Miss Granger. Two can play this game.*

– ~ –

Hermione finished serving snacks and returned to her place on the carpet.

Professor Snape was still looking at her with that dangerous grin on his face. She could feel the tension low in her body, muscles clenching in response to that look.

Hermione wasn’t sure if she should be excited or frightened. In truth, she was both.

*Damn Ginny and her meddling.*

Somehow the wily troublemaker had talked Hermione into flirting with the Potions Master. Ginny insisted that now was the perfect time because he couldn’t deduct points or give a detention due to the oath.

It went a long way toward proving just how appealing the thought of a clandestine snog with the professor was to Hermione that a Slytherin’s natural affinity for creative warfare didn’t even occur to her. Professor Snape would surely be able to devise numerous ways to exact revenge that had nothing to do with point loss or detention.

Hermione was having a hard time concentrating on the board game. She’d fulfilled her obligation to Ginny and managed to put the first hints of her interest out for Professor Snape to consider.

The whole thing would most likely end in some form of public humiliation, she thought, but her time at Hogwarts was ending. It was now or never.

Worst case scenario? A few weeks of Professor Snape-produced hell.

Best case? Some intelligent conversation, followed by some snogging. Maybe a grope or two.

Oh, who was she trying to fool? Best-case scenario involved full skin-to-skin-contact and enough mind-blowing orgasms to leave her temporarily cross-eyed.

It was possible. The cross-eyed part, that is. Not that she knew from personal experience, as her past liaisons – while pleasurable – were not earth-shattering events alluded to in the books that were passed around the girls dormitory late at night.

But Hermione prided herself on her ability to learn and she’d been doing some very intense reading on the subject since last summer.

Very, very intense.

“Are you feeling well, Miss Granger? It is your turn.”

Hermione realized she’d been staring at the board with glazed-over eyes and a vacant expression.

*Lovely.*

“I’m fine, just working on a strategy.” She rolled the dice and narrowly avoided landing on Ernie’s monopoly. She paid Draco his small rent amount and passed the dice to Ginny.

She risked a glance at Professor Snape, looking for any clue toward his mood. To her surprise, he was watching her.

“Miss Granger, I believe I am interested in your offer, after all.” His voice held a promise of long, dark nights spent entwined with a lover.

Hermione barely restrained a shiver. As far as she was concerned everyone else could pack up and leave right now, she and the professor had business to attend to.

“That drink, Miss Granger?”

She blinked as her mind scrambled to switch gears.

“Oh, yes. Drink ... let me see what I can do, sir.”

He found her momentary confusion amusing, Hermione could tell.

She used the time it took her to stand and move to the refreshment table to gather her bearings.

With a snap of her fingers and a clear mental image of the specific house-elf she wanted, Hermione summoned Dobby’s friend with the odd name. Or tried to.

Unfortunately, it was Dobby himself who appeared.

He took one look at Hermione’s surprised expression and his ears drooped. He leaned forward to whisper. “Dobby is sorry to be answering Winky’s call, but Headmaster Albus Dumbledore be wanting only Dobby into and out of this room until...”

The small creature looked stricken and immediately began to wring his hands.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, but she kept her voice light and helpful and pitched low enough that only Dobby could hear her. “Until what, Dobby?”

The house-elf shook his head violently. “Dobby shouldn’t be saying.”

She spoke to him with the patience one would normally show a small child. “If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you and Dumbledore.” She pulled the proverbial trump card. “I’m Harry Potter’s friend. You trust Harry Potter’s friends, don’t you?”

Dobby looked torn between keeping his secret and telling the wise and bushy friend of Harry Potter. The tips of his ears quivered as his little body vibrated with nervous energy.

Suddenly he spoke in a rush. “Headmaster Albus Dumbledore wishes Professor Potions Snape Sir to not being such a fuddy-duddy.”

Before she could stop him, Dobby grabbed the edge of the table and began to repeatedly ram his head against the wood. “Bad Dobby. Bad Dobby.”

Hermione pulled at the elf’s shoulders, to no avail. She looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. They were.

She wrapped one arm around the house-elf’s neck and pulled, managing to keep his head from hitting the table. The little bugger was stronger than he looked, and he continued to use his hold on the table to try to twist out of her grasp. She ended up bracing one leg against the table for leverage and dared to use the hand not wrapped around the elf to wave dismissively at everyone else. “We’re fine, really. Go back to the game.”

Once everyone – including a bemused-looking Snape – had returned to their respective games, Hermione released her choke hold on Dobby. “I know just how to help.”

He clutched at his throat and wobbled a bit on his feet as the blood and oxygen began to return to his various parts, a grateful smile on his pointed little face.

“Dobby thanks Harry Potter’s bushy friend.”

“Right. Anyway, Professor Snape wants to relax with a nice soothing drink or two. I know Madam Hooch has a lovely stock of ... soothing drinks hidden, I mean, kept in her room. Maybe you could convince her to part with a bottle? Maybe even the same thing she was drinking the last time she chaperoned Fun Day? Could you ask her?”

“Oh, yes. Dobby helps. Dobby gets drinks from Flying Mistress.”

With a pop, the house-elf disappeared.

Hermione smoothed down her fly away hair and straightened her blouse.

*If Snape s tos to play dirty, I can get positively filthy.*

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A/N - I want to thank everyone from WIKTT who took the time to help me figure out the differences between the US Monopoly and the UK version. Thanks to Hannah, Siobhan, Sarah, Liz, Piggie and Angie.