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“I don’t understand what you’re getting at here, Minerva,” you say, crossing one leg over the other and leveling a glare at Minerva. She isn’t the least bit intimidated, of course. You exhale slowly, taking a biscuit from the tray she provided. Her office is warm and cozy. You find yourself visiting the Transfiguration professor every few days. She’s great company and has a sharp wit. You just wish you weren't on the receiving end of it sometimes.
“You and Severus are getting along swimmingly,” Minerva repeats, stirring her tea and taking a sip. There’s a knowing gleam in her eyes and a small smile on her face. You resist the urge to get up and walk away. Running will make you seem all the more suspicious.
“What, because he tolerates me?” You eventually settle for a mix of bewilderment and suspicion. You’re not liking the turn that this conversation is taking. It’s quickly heading into unpredictable territory.
“That’s more than what can be said for most,” Minerva responds, looking at you coyly before taking another sip of tea. You take a deep breath, before leveling her with an exasperated glance.
“Minerva…” you sigh. She places a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. There’s a familiar knowing look in her eyes and you hate it. Every time you see that gleam in her eyes, you know that you’re missing something. You sigh before turning to the doorway. “Whatever. I've got some papers to grade and a practice to oversee. See you at dinner.”
As you leave the room, you feel Minerva’s eyes on your back. You shake your head in disbelief and send her a wave over your shoulder, before closing the door behind you and walking out into the hallway. Hufflepuff is scheduled for Quidditch practice in a few minutes, and you decide to make your way over to the field early. To your surprise, when you arrive, there is already someone waiting for you: a certain dark-haired, all-black-wearing professor.
“Ah, Severus,” you remark, ambling over to him. You make sure to maintain a steady distance from him—not too close, but not too far—so you don’t make him uncomfortable. “What are you doing out here? I thought Hufflepuff had the field.”
Severus wordlessly shows you the Quidditch field schedule, which has been scrawled on a piece of parchment. You squint at it for a moment, your chest filling with dread as you realize that today’s date has “Slytherin” listed next to it.
“Oh, sorry,” you grimace, feeling mildly embarrassed at your error. You avert your eyes and manifest an interest in the field in front of you, the grass at your feet, anything but Severus’s intent gaze. “I’ll just leave, then.”
“Slytherin can scrimmage Hufflepuff,” Severus suggests quietly. It takes you a moment to process the statement, but you manage to voice your agreement. Honestly, you’re shocked that he isn’t taking the proffered opportunity to get away from you. You walk over to the Hufflepuff team and explain the mixup. To your surprise, the team seems even more excited at the prospect of facing off against Slytherin in a practice match. You shake your head in disbelief and walk over to the spectator stands.
The game kicks off without much fuss. One of the reserve players from each team serves as the referee. Severus moves to sit down next to you—another surprising occurrence. You glance at him, but he doesn’t say anything. Shrugging, you pull out the parchments you had shrunk to your pocket and begin to read. Thankfully, Severus isn’t one for meaningless small talk, so you don’t feel pressured to keep your attention on the match.
Furthermore, the Hufflepuff team doesn’t really need your attention. One of the seventh years is the captain of the team and they lead the practices. If anything, you’re just the overseer. You like attending practice every so often, just to make sure things are running smoothly. Nonetheless, you're far from any formal leadership position. You’re not the biggest fan of Quidditch, either, so your role is minimal at best.
A large shadow begins to block the sunlight, and you squint in order to better see the parchment in your lap. This particular essay neglects to include anything related to the assigned topic, and instead goes off on a tangent concerning runes and their role in Transfiguration. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. A loud shout rouses you from your thoughts and you look up, only to find a Bludger hurtling straight at you. You close your eyes and brace for the impact. The last thought that runs through your head is the rather humiliating prospect of death at the hands of a student playing Quidditch. You can already see the Daily Prophet Headline: Hogwarts Professor dies at the hands of a particularly well-aimed Bludger!
A few seconds pass and your heart is racing out of your chest. You hesitantly open your eyes, only to find yourself entirely unharmed. Blinking a few times, you look down and notice the Bludger that had nearly knocked you out. It is cracked entirely in half. A Slytherin student flies down to you and you recognize her as Gemma Farley, the Slytherin Prefect. She seems to be on the verge of apologizing, but she catches a glimpse of something to your side and pales. You follow her gaze and inhale sharply.
Severus is standing next to you, wand extended and a scowl on his face. You slowly begin to realize just what happened. He just... saved you. There’s gratitude stuck in your throat and molded to the tip of your tongue, but you can't seem to get the words out. Fortunately, Severus seems intent to do the talking.
“Twenty points from Slytherin, Miss Farley,” Severus snarls. You’re certain your mouth is hanging open now. Severus has always refused to take points from Slytherin, in order to offset the preferential treatment that some of the other professors engage in. In all your years working with him, you’ve never once heard him deduct points from his own house. At least, not until now. Gemma doesn't bother arguing, and instead turns back to her team and gets the match running once more. You’re still riding a wave of adrenaline and it takes every ounce of patience not to voice the questions on your mind. You are eventually rewarded for your patience, however.
“You need to pay more attention,” Severus finally says, turning to stare at you. You suck in a breath. Suddenly, you understand how he is the most feared of the professors. If you were a student, you would be sufficiently intimidated by the look on his face. Fortunately, you’re a professor and you’re only mildly contemplative of your life choices now.
“This essay is just... so riveting,” you smile unconvincingly. Severus must catch onto the lack of enthusiasm in your voice, because he turns to the side and almost seems to stifle a laugh. Admittedly, you’re starting to regret assigning all the students the same topic—the magical significance of the number seven. Ultimately, you’re reading the same thing over and over again. You exhale slowly before giving up and spelling the parchment into your pocket.
The rest of the match proceeds as expected. Slytherin just barely wins after their seeker snags the Snitch. You don’t bother to walk over to the Hufflepuffs, as their captain seems to have it handled. Severus remains a steady presence at your side, even as a few of the Slytherins glance back at him expectantly.
“Thank you,” you murmur, unable to keep your thoughts from spilling out any longer. The only sign that Severus hears you is the stiff incline of his head. It’s such a subtle movement that you convince yourself you imagined it at first. “I mean it. I... definitely wouldn’t have noticed in time.”
“Save the grading for that mess you call an office,” Severus replies, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yes, Professor,” you salute sarcastically. Severus’s eye twitches and you chuckle. Unfortunately, the Potions professor isn’t nearly as amused as you are. He begins to walk back towards the castle, and you don’t bother to catch up to him. Feeling a bit devious, you cast a spell to amplify your voice and continue speaking. “Do you offer an extra credit policy, Professor Snape?” The Hufflepuff and Slytherin players alike look over to you in shock. Severus is still walking up to the castle, and you can’t see his expression. The Tripping Jinx he levels at you from afar gives you a hint of his annoyance, though.