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It was tradition, really. A hazing of sorts, meant to welcome new students to Slytherin, to measure their mettle. A scare, nothing more.
The Lestrange brothers had only just pranked Regulus Black the day before, and Hermione Granger had fallen to Severus and Lucius.
Granger was a little chit, more hair than girl, her nose always in a book. Being the first Muggleborn to be sorted into Slytherin in fifty years didn’t get her many friends, but she was still a snake and therefore would be given equal treatment. In this at least.
Severus had observed her for some time, learnt her routine enough to know she’d be headed to the Black Lake. Some days, she would just sit by the shoreline, chin turned up, basking in the light like a damn sunflower. Others, she’d have a book open, swishing her wand hand repeatedly until she mastered the precise movements of a first-year spell. Professor Flitwick would no doubt be impressed with her dedication.
With the location settled—a midway point between her last class of the day and the lake—every other detail of their plan was ironed out. Lucius agreed that they need not be particularly harsh with her initiation. A cup transfigured into a serpent, meant only to startle, not inflict harm. Severus spotted her coming, the absurd weight of her rucksack forcing her to hunch slightly forward to compensate. But, as the pair of them waited for her appearance in an alcove just beyond the Greenhouses, the jape fell by the wayside.
Granger was not alone.
Which wasn't to say she was exactly accompanied—followed, rather. Chased, to be exact.
“Oi! I said wait up!” A voice called, one Severus was unfortunately very familiar with—that of Sirius Black.
“Granger!” A second boy—precious Potter—shouted. “We just have some questions.”
The girl didn’t stop. She hugged the book in her arms more firmly to her chest. “And I told you, I have no intention to answer them. Just leave me alone.”
“Oh, come on! We’re worried, that’s all,” Black retorted. “You’re a Muggleborn. You don’t belong in that pit. The Hat must have made a mistake.”
Judging by her huff, that observation irked her. “The Sorting Hat doesn’t make mistakes. Have you not read Hogwarts: A History? It’s been assigning houses to students for centuries.”
“So you want to be there?” Potter asked, incredulity bleeding from his tone.
“Yes! Now leave me be.” Granger picked up her pace—any faster and her rushed steps would constitute a run.
The two halfwits didn’t seem to get the message.
Severus shared one look with Lucius, and just as she passed them, they stepped forth, wands in hand, blocking Potter and Blacks’ path.
“I would heed her if I were you, Potter,” Severus warned, aiming his wand directly at the idiot's chest.
The Griffyndor pair stopped in their tracks. A rustling sound behind Severus indicated Granger had turned, her heaving breaths more noticeable now that she was closer.
“You’re with them?” Black asked her through clenched teeth, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“It would appear so, would it not?” Lucius drawled, holding his wand aloft. Severus knew his nonchalance for the disguise it was—Lucius was just as primed for a duel as Severus was himself. “I’d suggest you two move along. The odds are not exactly in your favour now, are they?”
“We’re two on two, Malfoy.” Potter couldn’t help but posture, taking a step forward.
Severus countered with a taunt, “Have you forgotten how to count, Potter? Or have you perhaps never learned?”
“You’re unarmed,” Lucius stated. “And I have it on good authority that Granger here is a dab hand with a wand.”
Silence stretched, their mutual animosity charging the air between them.
Until, by some miracle, Black appeared to find an ounce of good sense to spare. “Come on, James. It’s not worth it, mate.”
It wasn’t until after they disappeared through the castle's front doors that Severus turned to Hermione. The girl had her wand drawn, too, prepared to fight alongside them if it had come to it. Not only that, but she had proudly stated her desire to be in their house.
As far as Severus was concerned, she had passed with flying colours. “Welcome to Slytherin.”
Granger looked up, her large brown eyes locking with his. She gave him a curt nod, the hint of a smirk curling her lip—one that Severus returned.