The Rogue Seeker
February 14th, 09:53
Snape’s POV:
Severus sat in the Slytherin Stands of the Quidditch Pitch, trying to bring everything into focus.
After the… fiasco that had been Breakfast, he’d gotten up and walked swiftly back to his quarters, dodging owls carrying heart-shaped letters the whole way. He’d got back to his chambers and shut the door, closing his eyes and letting out a small breath of relief. Intending to pour himself his third measure of whiskey in less than 8 hours, he had almost cursed when he’d seen the forty-odd owls perched around his chambers. All (and if he never saw another one of those letters again, it’d be too soon, he remembered thinking) were carrying heart-shaped letters.
He’d barely managed to avoid hexing the infernal owls into the middle of next week. Instead, he contented himself with shooing the owls out and incinerating all the letters before they could start their infernal love poetry. Then, Severus had decided to treat himself to two measures of Firewhiskey (make that four measures in less than 8 hours, he remembered thinking) before stumbling down to the Pitch.
Now, Severus realised that maybe the fourth measure might have been one too many. He normally scowled or sneered, no matter his actual mood. Judging by the shocked looks the students were giving him, he no longer looked like a murderer searching for a suitable victim.
He focused back on the Pitch as the teams walked out. Despite the 8th years technically not having House affiliations, most of those interested in Quidditch had tried out for their old Houses’ team. As a result, the Gryffindor team was made up of (Beaters) Coote, Peakes, (Chasers) Weaslette, Robins, Thomas, (Keeper) Weasley and (Seeker) Potter. The Slytherin team consisted of (Beaters) Lucian, Gregory, (Chasers) Urquhart, Vaisey, Harper, (Keeper) Miles and (Seeker) Draco.
There seemed to be a bit of disagreement amongst his Team. Severus could see that one member of the Slytherin team had his wand out and was pointing it at the others, who seemed to be crowding in around him. Severus was furious: the first thing he had taught his Slytherins was always to show a unified front when in front of members of the other Houses. They could hex each other into oblivion once they were in the Common Room, but not in public.
Admittedly, he hadn’t had that conversation with this years’ first years since Voldemort’s death, as not everyone thought Slytherins were all Death-Eaters-in-training. Instead, he’d lectured them on how, despite the older years being used to him turning a blind eye when it came to Slytherin wrongdoings, that bias was in the past). However, no one on the team was a first year. Had they forgotten his lecture that easily?
Severus looked closely at the team (or as close as possible through his slightly blurred vision, he thought to himself). He was trying to figure out the reason for them all throwing their common sense (or lack thereof) off the Knight Bus. He counted four black-headed and three brown-headed members.
He frowned, silently cursing the effects of the Firewhiskey on his vision, as he looked again. Yes, four black heads and three brown heads… but no one with blond hair. As he was looking at the Quidditch Pitch in confusion, the disagreement (while not completely solved) seemed to have been put on hold for the minute. He saw Urquhart throw his hands in the air in apparent frustration before the rest of the team grabbed their brooms and walked over to the waiting Gryffindor team. Potter smiled at one of the Slytherin team and, with a shock, Severus realised it was the brown-haired player who had just been surrounded.
He glanced at the Quidditch Stands, where the other Professors were chatting. Where was Draco? He searched the Slytherin side but couldn't see him. He looked at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stands, but he wasn’t there either. In desperation, because he was worried that a member of another house who wasn’t too fond of Death Eaters had attacked him, he glared over at the Gryffindor stand. He began mentally planning the long list of detentions he would place on Draco's attacker. Severus’s mind went blank when he spotted Draco’s blond hair in the Gryffindor stand.
Severus was furious for five reasons.
The first was because of the worry he had been in for the last minute.
The second was that Draco was sitting with Gryffindors. Not only was he sitting with them, but he was actively talking to them. Judging by the laughs from those seated around him, Draco was telling jokes.
The third reason was Draco was also wearing a Gryffindor scarf, waving a Gryffindor flag and joining in with the encouraging chants the Gryffindors were singing.
The fourth was that Severus could see no reason for Draco not to be playing today. He wasn’t dead, he didn’t seem to have broken his back or neck, and no one in his family had died recently. In his view, they were the only acceptable reasons.
The fifth was that, whoever the replacement Seeker was, the rest of the team wasn’t happy about it.
As Rolanda gave her usual “I want a nice, clean game” speech before blowing her whistle, Severus concentrated on the Seeker, trying to determine his identity. He had seen first years who could fly better. Unless he had been swift to spot the Snitch, Severus reckoned that his immediate vertical climb was unintended. Potter seemed to agree: he chased after and, to Severus’s astonishment, appeared to be… helping the Slytherin Seeker!
Potter helped the Seeker to level out his broom and come to a stop. From where he was sitting, he could only see the profile of Potter. Of the mysterious replacement Seeker, all Severus could make out was that he had curly brown hair. As he mentally ran through the list of possibilities, the two Seekers sat on their respective brooms, appearing to be… chatting! They weren’t paying any attention to the game in which they were playing. As Ms Lovegood dreamily mentioned after going into a tangent about how a passing cloud looked like a Crumple-Horned Snorkack (Severus had never seen or heard of one before in his life), the score was 40 - 30 to Gryffindor.
Potter turned, so he was facing Severus, and the other Seeker now had his back to him. They appeared to be getting along quite well. Potter was laughing at something the other Seeker had said and laughed more when the Seeker’s broom suddenly moved 2 feet to the left. The Seeker smacked him on the head, and Potter only seemed to laugh harder.
“I don’t think the Slytherin Seeker should have done that,” said the dreamy voice of Ms Lovegood, “the middle of a Quidditch match isn’t the best place for her to be flirting with him. Now, if she wanted to find Blibbering Humdingers…”
Severus blocked her out, only now catching what he should have noticed earlier. The long hair, the slim waistline… he was annoyed with himself for not realising sooner. The Slytherin team hadn’t had a witch on the team for over 20 years and, while not all of them were Death-Eaters-in-training, most of them were chauvinists. They were angry that a witch was better than any of the other reserves.
Severus nodded to himself, earning a few startled looks from the nearby students, then frowned again.
Except… she wasn’t better. Severus had already remarked to himself about her unintentional vertical climb and her sudden jolt 2 feet to the left, which did nothing to encourage any belief in her abilities.
Severus was brought back to the present as the students let out a roar. The two Seekers had dived after the Snitch, which had appeared in the middle Gryffindor hoop. Potter was ahead and, as he flew through his team's hoop (past a startled looking Weasley), the Slytherin Seeker flew through the left hoop. Severus was sure Potter had caught the Snitch, but instead, he missed it, causing it to fly over to the left… and into the Slytherin Seeker’s waiting hand.
As the Slytherins let out a cheer, and the Gryffindors let out a groan, Severus allowed a smirk to play across his face. She wouldn’t have gotten on the team unless she was the best, yet she acted like a first-year confronted with a broom for the first time. No one had seen her train, except for the rest of the team.
She was playing on that lack of knowledge. She was a Slytherin, after all. It was just the sort of thing he encouraged: letting people underestimate them, then turning and making them regret it later. He decided that, after he had finished teaching his 8th-year Potions class, he would congratulate her on her cunning.
As Severus stumbled out of the stands, he heard Ms Lovegood, who had realised the game was finished, announce that “Ravenclaw has beaten Hufflepuff, with a score of 160 to 20”. Leaving Minerva to report the real winner and results (he gave a satisfied snort at that, imagining how unhappy she would be to announce that her team had lost), he came across the Slytherin team gathered in a circle around their Seeker, wands drawn.
He distinctly heard them calling her an “untrained Muggleborn” (he had told them in no uncertain terms that if he ever heard any of them call anyone a Mudblood, he would ensure anyone who was even a distant relative of them would be scrubbing cauldrons in detention for the rest of his time teaching) who had won “because of your friendship with Potter” who had taken pity on her because she had “lost a dare to Draco”.
Severus strode over to them, a sneer on his face.
“And why, pray tell, are you acting this way to your fellow Slytherin, who won the match for you?” he snarled. He was incensed to see them smirking at each other: some even began to laugh. Not a You-told-a-funny-joke laugh. This was a You-don’t-realise-how-stupid-you-are laugh, and he didn’t like it one bit.
“Well?” he snarled, louder than before. Now they were all laughing at him.
“Are you going to show him?” asked Vaisey to the Seeker, making him realise that he still hadn’t seen her face. She shrugged and turned around.
Severus realised that (again) his mouth was wide open. He logically knew that she couldn’t be standing in front of him.
First, when it had come to her first Flying Class (discounting the disaster of a class which had ended with Mr Longbottom breaking his wrist), she couldn’t maintain a simple hover two feet above the ground.
Second (and this was the clincher), if she managed to become a decent player, she wouldn’t be playing on the Slytherin team. Yet, there she stood, having caught the Snitch for Slytherin.
I really shouldn’t have had that fourth measure, Severus realised with a sigh. I need to cut back on the Firewhiskey.
“Hello, Professor,” said Ms Granger with a smile.
Hermione’s POV:
Draco’s explanation to the rest of his team that the reason he couldn’t play today’s match hadn’t gone down well with the rest of his teammates. Hermione had anticipated that, which was why she brought her wand with her to the game. What she hadn’t been expecting, however, was the rest of the Slytherin team surrounding her, looking like they would be pretty happy to curse her. Only when she had told them that she would guarantee them a win by making an Unbreakable Vow (and that the Gryffindor team was waiting for the match to start) had they backed off.
One of them (Urqharte? She couldn’t remember his name) threw up their arms in frustration as they walked over. The Gryffindor team, having been forewarned, didn’t show any surprise. She saw Harry smile at her, and she nodded back. "Now, I want a nice, clean game,” said Madam Hooch, staring pointedly at the Slytherins. When she saw Hermione, a look of surprise crossed her face, and Hermione nodded at her. Madam Hooch shook her head and blew her whistle to start the match.
Immediately, her broom shot vertically into the air. Hermione tried to bring the broom level with a small shriek, but Harry caught up with her and stopped the broom.
“Thanks,” ground out Hermione through clenched teeth. Harry grinned.
”You could always give up, you know,” replied Harry.
“Are you mad?” she asked. “No. I’m not giving up. I don’t want to have to tell everyone an embarrassing secret about myself.”
“You’re the one who suggested the forfeit,” Harry pointed out.
“I suggested it because I had no intention of needing to do a forfeit,” she said.
Harry grinned.
“Don’t count your dragons until they’re hatched,” he said with a grin. He laughed when her broom chose that moment to move two feet to the left and was almost hysterical when Hermione whacked his arm.
Luna chose that moment to commentate on the Match: “I don’t think the Slytherin Seeker should have done that; the middle of a Quidditch match isn’t the best place for her to be flirting with him. Now, if she wanted to find Blibbering Humdingers…”
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, trying to stop themselves from laughing.
Harry pointed at the Snitch that had suddenly appeared in the Gryffindor hoop, all traces of laughter gone from his face.
“Remember?” asked Harry.
“I remember,” replied Hermione. Harry grinned as he dived after the Snitch, the students letting out a roar as Hermione followed, hoping the broom wouldn’t choose that time to shoot towards the Slytherin hoops. Thankfully, her broom cooperated, and Harry flew through the middle hoop past Ron. She smiled quickly at him as she flew through the left hoop. As planned, Harry diverted the Snitch to the left, making it look like he’d missed. The Snitch flew to the left to avoid Harry, and Hermione was waiting to catch it.
As the Slytherins started cheering (and the Gryffindors started commiserating), Hermione smiled at Harry.
“I think I know why you enjoy Quidditch so much,” she said, a smile on her face. Harry grinned, nodding his head towards the rest of the Slytherin team and raising an eyebrow. She nodded and walked over to them. Bletchley coughed.
“We may have… not been… correct,” Bletchley stumbled over what he was trying to say. Hermione cut across him.
“I don’t particularly care. If you want to show your appreciation, just start insulting me when Professor Snape walks nearby”.
They looked at each other, confusion written clearly across their faces.
“Wh-?”
“I… just want to see his reaction when he realises who his new Seeker is,” smirked Hermione. Now that they realised the reasoning behind her unusual request, they sneered at each other.
“I think we can do that,” said one of the Beaters. He looked over her shoulder. “Speaking of…”
“Go on,” smiled Hermione.
Instantly, the amusement wiped off their faces. They surrounded her and started insulting her as loudly as possible while remaining at a believable volume. She heard footsteps pounding across the Pitch, as an angry Professor Snape burst out with “And why, pray tell, are you acting this way to your fellow Slytherin, who won the match for you?”
The Slytherins couldn’t contain their amusement: most were smirking, and a few were laughing. Bletchley smirked at her, and she raised an eyebrow at him, also smirking. It was her smirk, rather than Professor Snape’s furious “Well?” that caused the rest of the Slytherins to laugh. Vaisey looked at her.
“Are you going to show him?” he asked.
She let the smile break out across her face, delighted that things had gone as they had planned, before taming it down to a natural smile. As Hermione turned around to face Professor Snape, she was aware of the slight smell of Firewhiskey. That could have been the reason why the ordinarily impassive Potions Master’s face was an open book. As she watched, it flickered from anger to shock, confusion and uncertainty before settling on the goldfish face.
Internally, she was jumping for joy.
Externally, she was calm.
“Hello, Professor, she said, smiling that everything had worked out as expected.
Next: Severus has been teaching Potions for seventeen years. He’s dealt with dunderheads, explosions and sabotages on multiple occasions over the years. However, he’s never had to deal with this *hehehe*.