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Rivalry	By : starstruck86 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Ron Views: 7472 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
A/N: Hello! Another
R/S to play with. This is DH compliant, with one major difference (check
the pairing to see what *wink*) but definitely not epilogue compliant. I have
decided to take a different route this time and practice my tension building
skills. As such, it�ll take a while before I get to any smut. I hope if you�ve
read my stuff before, though, you�ll stick with me through this one. I will
update the content warnings as I go along. Enjoy, updates on this will be
pretty regular after a break this weekend. *** denotes a perspective change �I�m
writing this one between them from the off. Also a bit more humour than usual,
for a WIP, I suppose. xx

ETA: Just a quick thank you to all the reviewers on Stars -glad you liked my foray into Charlie/Snape... I am planning a wee second chapter to that one. ;)

----

Severus took a very bored sip of
wine and looked out over the face-filled hall, wondering how on earth the
summer had flown by so quickly. The sorting was done, each first year having
looked as terrified as the next. Ten new Slytherins in all, but Severus didn�t
particularly see the point of keeping the house structure when at every turn
unity was rammed down the staff and students� throats.

Well, that�s not exactly the truth� Minerva wants unity but when it
comes to her house winning the Quidditch cup, she�s territorial enough then�

The witch in question�s voice
dragged him back to the present.

�It is my very great pleasure to announce a staffing change. As most of you
returning will know, Madame Hooch decided that last year was to be her final at
Hogwarts, and retired over the summer to a lovely village in the south of France.
Although she will be sorely missed, her replacement, I feel, will inject new
life into sports at Hogwarts. I would therefore like to extend an extremely
warm welcome to Mr. Weasley, our new flying instructor and head of Quidditch,�
she turned and led the round of applause, looking at a space at the opposite
end of the table to where Severus sat.

What in the name of sweet Morgana�s arse is
the woman thinking? Choking on his wine, completely shocked, Severus leant
forward to turn his head along the table and when the woman�s words were
confirmed, and he frowned. Ronald Weasley sat blushing slightly. Whispers had
broken out amongst the clapping and Severus sneered at what they were obviously
saying, looking at the wide awed eyes and excited faces.

Don�t get too excited, Weasley could barely stay on his bloody broom in
his own years here, nor did I ever notice anything of quality about his
character sufficient enough to teach. Really, Minerva must be losing her bloody
marbles.

Minerva picked up her
start-of-term speech again and Severus settled back in his chair, resting one
elbow on the arm, supporting his chin in his hand. He had heard everything she
could say a thousand times before, and said it all himself, in fact, one year.

You didn�t have to come back and do this, his mind nagged at him. You could have taken her offer of
retirement.

As much as he hated to admit that
the voice in his head was right, Severus knew it was. He could have disappeared
into the ether after the war, when he had been healed from his neck injury. But
he had chosen to return to Hogwarts to continue educating the wizarding world�s
spawn, much to his sensibility�s consternation. He liked his job no better than
he had before, when he had been doing it out of necessity.

You�re still doing it out of necessity, it�s a job, therefore income,
and you need that to live. Not everyone was awarded such a generous pension at
the end of the hostility. Unlike Weasley.

He nearly sneered again but
stopped himself, and his thoughts went back to wondering why on earth Minerva
had thought it appropriate to employ the tall redhead. Severus also smarted
about the fact that he hadn�t even been consulted �he had remained, after all,
a deputy head on Minerva�s insistence, after his name had been cleared. He
wouldn�t have taken up the position of Headmaster again even if it had been
offered, but he had found himself shunted back into his Potions role. Trusted
only to a point, it seemed, despite his clearance, the ministry had deemed that
if he were to remain at Hogwarts it would be in his original teaching discipline.

Severus had needed the job too
badly to argue. And so when Minerva had offered to release him, he declined. He
had regretted it the second the words had left his mouth.

It�s no wonder you didn�t know of his appointment, the voice nagged
again. You never leave those filthy
dungeons for any longer than you have to, else you�re at home. Looking at
walls, and reading books you�ve read fifty times before.

Scowling, mainly at himself,
Severus was glad when the food popped onto the tables and the Great Hall
descended into excited chatter. More than one face was tilted curiously towards
the end of the staff table where Weasley sat. Severus chanced a surreptitious
look to his left and saw the young man talking easily with Hagrid,
his face returned to normal colours. Dressed in simple black robes, he looked
as though he were a promoted student. His red hair was longer than Severus
recalled at the time of the defeat of the Dark Lord, and his face slightly
matured.

Realising he was staring, Severus turned his attention to his food and
listened half-heartedly to a conversation between Flitwick
and Sprout about their new intake. His ears pricked up when their talk turned
to the newly acquired flying instructor.

�I daresay that lad is going to
break a few hearts,� Flitwick commented, doling
potatoes onto his plate.

�The girls are already drooling,�
Sprout snorted into her wine goblet. �And, I must say� if I were twenty years
younger��

Severus couldn�t hide his choke
fast enough, and the witch turned to him with an affronted look on her face. �Something to add, Severus?� She challenged.

�Certainly not,� Severus cleared
his throat. �An unfortunate mishap with my wine,� he indicated the goblet and
lied through his teeth.

�What do you think of Weasley�s appointment, Severus?� Flitwick
asked. �Did you know? We had no idea.�

�I was not consulted,� Severus
said carelessly, reaching for the salt.

�Apparently,� Sprout lowered her
voice to conspire, �She had to beg him to take it.�

�She must have been desperate,� Severus said dryly.

He rolled his eyes the filthy
looks both of his colleagues threw his way.

�What?� He gave a pointed shrug.
�I hardly remember Weasley as being talented in his time here, despite what he
achieved alongside Potter. His performance as the Gryffindor keeper was often
more amusing than it was victorious.�

�Not many players get their own
crowd chant, mind,� Sprout pointed out. �And, he�s bound to have matured in the
few years since then.�

�I fail to see why he�s taken the
job,� Severus commented. �We all know the kind of compensation the Ministry
gave Potter and his friends, money, free pass to NEWT examinations without
returning to Hogwarts��

�Maybe he felt the need for some
fulfilment?� Flitwick suggested. �All the Weasley
boys have been the same, not happy unless they�re doing something.�

Severus chewed on a mouthful of
chicken and ham pie as he thought about that, a catalogue of freckled redheads
running through his mind. The tiny teacher�s assessment wasn�t wrong: he
thought of Bill, a Head Boy; Charlie a flashy Quidditch Captain, Percy, another
Head Boy, the two twins, owners of a lucrative business at the age of seventeen
before being torn apart by war.

And that leaves him, the youngest boy. Famous in his own right, though without
Potter he�d be nothing.

�I suppose,� he finally answered
vaguely. �Still, I doubt he�ll amount to much as a teacher.�

�Funny, we all thought that about
you,� Sprout gave him a devious wink and buried herself in her dinner.

�I daresay Weasley will be rather
more popular with his students,� Flitwick followed
her smile.

�We�re not here to be popular,�
Severus muttered, taking a moody swig of wine. �We�re here to teach. I don�t
recall ever liking any of my teachers.�

�Well, I can�t recall you ever
liking anyone,� Sprout pointed out,
and then gently elbowed Severus� side.

It was a small concession, he
knew, to the congeniality which seemed to have sprung up between them all after
the war. Considering that during the time he had been Headmaster, none of them
would even look at him, it was a definite improvement, though anybody observing
would say that the improvement had come from Severus himself. No longer were
their jokes and chatter below him, he found, and he was willing to relax around
them as much as he was able �not often very much, but a marked difference to
before.

�That�s unfair, Pomona,� Flitwick
snorted. �He was rather attached to dear old Hooch, maybe that�s why he�s got
his knickers in such a twist over Mr. Weasley�s
appointment��

�You know as well as I do that
Albus was a menace when it came to lacing the Christmas staff party drinks,�
Severus snapped, repeating the same old line. �I was not myself that evening.�

�No, after your wonderful
rendition of �My Way� we were all somewhat disappointed when you changed back,�
Sprout sighed sadly. �You have a marvellous voice Severus.�

�I have no idea what you are
referring to,� Severus replied icily, and threw her a filthy look.

He left the Ravenclaw and
Hufflepuff heads to their laughing and concentrated on clearing his plate but was
unable to stop hearing snatches of the conversation, which included �slip some
into his morning pumpkin juice� and �maybe he�ll become attached to Weasley in
the same way, a thing for Quidditch leathers, perhaps?�

Well, at least Weasley is far more my type than Hooch ever was. And his
face is rather less like dragonhide.

The rest of the meal passed
without a great deal of significance, and by the time desserts blossomed on the
table Severus was slowly losing his mind with the boredom, wishing he could
escape to his quarters for some peace and quiet. But he knew there was the
monotonous task of addressing his house to attend to first, and then the annual
�welcome back to torture� staff meeting and then, and only then, would he be
free to scurry back into his underground warren of sanctuary.

Halfway through a delicious jam
sponge pudding, he was interrupted again.

�Is there any custard left in
that?� Sprout pointed to the jug. �Someone wants it.�

�Ah,� Severus licked his lips.
�No, I had rather� an accident with
it.�

�You mean you used it all, as
usual,� she sighed, and looked down the table.

Severus followed her gaze as the
greying woman�s curls shook and Ronald Weasley gave her a dismissive wave and a
brilliant smile, before turning back to his own jam sponge pudding.

�You should learn to share, not
particularly welcoming,� Sprout teased. �Or maybe you wanted him to come and
ask?�

Flitwick
dissolved into giggles behind a profiterole stack which nearly reached the top
of his head, and Severus rolled his eyes.

�Dear me, bored enough for the
gossip mill to be working hard already, Pomona?�
He sighed. �I�m beginning to think you should take on a job where you find a
little more fulfilment.�

�Maybe that�s what you should be
getting,� Flitwick muttered just loud enough for
Severus to hear, but also sufficiently quietly to be able lie and pretend he�d said
something else.

Severus ignored him and scooped up
the custard, eating it with rather more relish now he knew that somebody else
had wanted it.

You�re a petty man, Snape. The voice berated him and Severus was
disgusted to find that a feeling similar to guilt shot through his chest.

I am not feeling guilty over custard, he
kept his inner voice firm. I have so much
guilt that I will not allow one tiny thing more to add to the teetering pile.
Especially not about bloody custard for a bloody Weasley who is already trying
to steal my favourite pudding components on his first night! It�s not on, what
ever happened to respecting your elders?

Realising that he was on an
internal rant involving yellow goop, Severus mentally
advised himself to shut up and wondered when he had become so dreadfully dull.
The war was over, his role was over, and yet he was still bitter, still living
for nothing in particular and loathing his work. In fact, the arrival of the
redhead only seemed to have grabbed his attention because it annoyed him. The
number of new teachers he had sat and never even spared a second thought for
over his years within Hogwarts was in double figures.

It�s because of Potter, he set down his
spoon and picked up his goblet. Incompetent
brat is still causing me problems.

How exactly Ron Weasley was
causing him problems, Severus didn�t bother to think on.

He wanted the custard. That�s enough for tonight.

***

The Slytherin contingency debriefed
and warned not to ruin their chances of the House Cup for the year, Severus
made his way to the staff room, trying and failing to suppress a yawn. His body
was tired, which was fallout from the near-on fatal neck wound he had sustained
during the final battle, when Potter had left him for dead on the floor of the
Shrieking Shack.

He had always considered it
somewhat ironic that for the second time in his life, he had nearly died in the
ramshackle old house. First when almost confronted with a teenaged werewolf,
and secondly from a vicious bite from a snake that oozed poison. He didn�t
particularly blame Potter for leaving him, he himself had thought the end near
which was the only reason he had
handed over his memories. If Severus had known he would regain consciousness,
gasping and very nearly dead, half an hour later, then he wasn�t sure he would
ever have handed them over.

Yes, you would have, because otherwise he would never have known the
truth, and he needed the truth to end it�

He blocked out the repetitive
argument he had held with himself many times over the five years since the
war�s end, and pushed open the heavy door to the staffroom. It was somewhat
full and he moved instinctively to his usual chair �high backed, imposing, black- and found there was somebody sitting in it. A
redheaded somebody who was chatting amicably to the Runes professor, sprawled
without decorum on the soft cushions.

Severus kept moving because he
didn�t want to halt in the middle of the room and make a fool of himself, but
it didn�t stop him being annoyed at the fact that someone was sitting in his
chair.

�Weasley, you�re in my seat,� he
announced, as soon as he was near enough.

Ron was slow in his response; he
finished his sentence and then turned his face to look up at Severus, eyes
travelling the length of his body. Other than raising one auburn eyebrow, he
stayed perfectly still.

�I�m sorry, Professor, I wasn�t
aware that your name was stitched into the upholstery,� Ron gave him a smile.
�Have I missed it?� He made a show of glancing over his shoulder to check.

Severus ignored the snort of the
Runes professor and threw a filthy look down at his seat�s inhabitant. �I�ve
been sitting in that seat for as long as you�ve been alive,� he didn�t bother
to keep his tone polite.

�Well, change is good,� Ron said
fairly. �But, here, if you�re unable to sit in any other seat,� he got to his
feet gracefully, dark robes moving with him about his lithe frame. �Please, be
my guest.�

�Thank you,� Severus said
stiffly, annoyed by the man�s blatant over-politeness. �Tell me, Weasley, was
Potter otherwise engaged, is that why you were given the job?�

His barb went unrecognised as Ron
replied, in the same courteous tone, �Harry is fine, Professor, I�ll be sure to
pass on that you enquired after his welfare. As for the job, I can�t say. I
know I was asked first, back in March, but I declined the offer until yesterday
when Minerva begged me to accept it.�

Severus� lip curled up at each
further jellyfish sting �firstly that Weasley would imply to Potter that
Severus cared, and secondly that the man had been asked first off for the job
and declined until he was pleaded with. And beyond that, Weasley�s
speech seemed far more mature and graceful than he remembered.

It�s got to be an act. Every single Weasley child, with maybe the
exception of Percy, has had a mouth like a sailor. And I know for a fact this
one does too.

Ron gave him another smile and
moved to lean against the wall at the back of the room, all the other seats
having been filled during their conversation. Severus dropped down into his usual
chair and tried not to take comfort from the fact that the tall man�s body had
nicely warmed it up for him. With a huff he arranged himself with his arms
folded over his chest and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them
at the ankle.

What on earth is that?

Severus could smell an almost
powdery scent lingering in the air, though it was masculine. His generous
nose detected hints of flora and musk, streaked with what might have been broom
polish. A very odd concoction, he conceded, but one which completely enveloped
him.

�Ron, don�t be ridiculous, what
are you doing standing up there?� Minerva�s voice cut out across the staffroom
as she bustled into the room, pushing her hat straight.

�No seats left,� Weasley
shrugged. �Don�t worry, I�m fine here.�

�I�ll have to get you an extra
seat,� she mused, looking around and finding that he was quite right, the
entire room was filled.

�Well, it�s been a long few hours
and I�m sure we�re all eager for bed to prepare for the new teaching year, so
let�s crack on,� she plucked a piece of parchment out of the pile she�d been
carrying.

Severus automatically switched
off and took to looking around the room at the other teachers. Another year,
another few lines around the eyes, the mouths, a few more grey hairs littering
the vast variety in the room, though, not in his own, Severus was pleased to
note.

As raven-haired as ever, the only
changes in his physical appearance were the scars on his neck and perhaps a
little extra weariness represented by a thinner, paler face. Everything else
remained unchanged.

Up until he turned up I was the youngest-looking member of staff here.
He wants my custard, he takes my chair, and now he takes that.

�Severus?�

His name made him freeze and
guiltily look up.

�Do come back to earth,� she
sighed at him. �I know it�s the first night, but really, Severus, simply
because you�ve heard this speech before doesn�t mean you can slack off.�

�I am doing no such thing,�
Severus replied coldly, and straightened in the chair realising he had slumped during
his pondering. �If you would kindly repeat the last point?�

�It is your year to work the
Hogsmeade visit rota,� she levitated the right pieces of parchment over to him.

�Wonderful,� he muttered, and
snatched the papers out of the air to rest on his lap, not bothering to look at
them.

�Make sure to correspond with Ron
over the Quidditch match dates,� she flicked her eyes over his shoulder where
Ron was still lounging against the wall.

�Have them on my desk by tomorrow
evening,� Severus didn�t even bother to turn his head.

�Of course,� Ron�s voice sounded
far too adolescent in their wizened staff room.

�Don�t mind Severus,� Sprout�s
voice popped up. �He�s always rather cantankerous until the Christmas break.�

The laugh which followed sounded
every bit as young and out of place as Ron�s voice had done, but instead of
recoiling from it, as Severus instinctively did, the other inhabitants of the room
warmed a fraction.

�I�ll make sure to remember
that,� Ron replied. �Though, it�s not as though I needed the reminder, as he�s
already turfed me out of his chair.�

Severus felt every eye on the room turn on him in horror of the way he had
treated their newest recruit.

�As said,� Minerva glared at him.
�Cantankerous till Christmas.�

She moved on and Severus wanted
nothing more than to turn his head to shoot daggers at the redhead, whom he had
no doubt was grinning ridiculously behind his back, and kill him on the spot.

Right, I see now, politeness and smiles until it matters and then he
shoves the knife in. Well, two can play at that game, Weasley.

�One last thing,� Minerva threw
down the pile of paper. �Let us all try
and keep a lid on the house rivalry this year, hmm?�

�You said the same thing last
year,� someone pointed out.

�Yes, and it was rather obvious
with whom your support lay when it came to the Quidditch Cup,� Flitwick teased.

Severus watched the Headmistress�
mouth draw into the infamous tight line before she gave up the pretence with a
twitch of her cheek and shook her head.

�House rivalry is a part of
Hogwarts,� the young voice cut out from behind him. �It�s always going to be
around, with the Quidditch, and house points� you take those elements away and
you lose half the fun of being here��

Well, that won�t do, can�t make this difficult for him if he�s going to
come out with intelligent comments like that.

�So we should expect you to be
favouring Gryffindor in your position then?� Severus finally turned around and
looked at the redhead, raising one eyebrow.

�No, I�m impartial,� Ron shrugged
happily, and with a devious little smile continued, �Unlike yourself,
of course.�

Their eyes met in a glittering
clash of gemstones, sapphire boring into onyx, and Severus felt the staffroom
around them take a collective breath, waiting for his reply.

�Anyway,� Minerva bludgeoned
through the tension with a cutting voice. �I think we�ve finished for the evening.
Have a good rest, it�s wonderful to see you all together again, and of course,
wonderful to see a new face as well.�

Severus rolled his eyes at her
ridiculous attempt at camaraderie and immediately got to his feet with the
intention of running away as fast as possible.

�Severus, a
word, if you will?�

Damn that woman to hell and back.

He stopped and waited as the room
filed out, talking merrily until only one person remained. Severus glared
pointedly at Ron and flicked his eyes to the door.

�I need to speak with Weasley in a moment,� Minerva interjected. �I just wanted
to check that you�re all set to supervise the Charms club for Filius again,
he�s still having health problems.�

�Its fine,� Severus said
brusquely. �Will that be all?�

�Yes, I think so, I need to clear
a few things with Ron, we�ve not had much time to clear the finer points of his
contract seeing as I only managed to get him to agree yesterday,� she shot Ron
a grateful smile.

�Did you think the position was
below you?� Severus said as he passed to the door.

�Actually, I thought it was too out of my league,� Ron shrugged.

�Ah, fake modesty will do you no
favours here, Weasley,� Severus curtly informed him, and exited the staffroom.

It was going to be a trying year.

***

Ron let out a shaky sigh as he
sank into the enormous and overly elaborate bath in his rooms.

Rooms. I have rooms. That�s just not right.

His mother had been so brokenhearted when he had rejected McGonagall�s offer in
March; she had cried for a whole day, wailing that she had always wanted one of
her sons to become a teacher, and so far they had all disappointed her when she
was sure that Percy would have been a
shoe-in.

Washing some of the hot,
fragranced water over his stomach, Ron recalled her joyful face when he had
imparted his news at lunchtime the day before, and could practically still feel
her iron grip around his neck.

�Oh, Ronnie, I�m so proud of you� making something of your career at
last!�

Ron rolled his eyes to the ceiling
plaster and let his fingers tap a
fretful rhythm on the rim of the bath.

Yeah, right, like I didn�t try with the Aurors, like I didn�t stick at
it for two whole years before I realised it was driving me insane.

Hermione had called him idiotic
for sticking with something he hated for so long simply for the prospect of
having a job. Ron had privately agreed with her, but there had been so much
hype about him and Harry joining the Auror office, he couldn�t bear to let
everybody down. But, eventually, with an almost moderate breakdown and a new
phobia of muggle telephone boxes, Ron had known it was time to call it a day.

And I can remember how much she bloody cried then, as well�

Three years after he had left
�the force� Ron had found himself drifting; George hadn�t needed him in the
shop beyond the first year, and the second he had spent most of on Charlie�s
sofa bed, hiding in Romania on a long holiday.

It�s not a holiday when your brother is utilising you to cart fucking
dragon dung all over the poxy reserve.

Ron dismissed the negative
thought, knowing that after the war, and then his two years in the Auror squad,
and then another year being George�s emotional crutch, nobody particularly
begrudged him his sojourn. Nobody except himself, that was, purely for the fact
that Hermione hadn�t felt the need to take a year off and slum around, and
neither had Harry.

But then we all know that Harry keeps himself busy so he can ignore the
masses clamouring for his sainthood.

Ron snorted and dipped down under
the water, drenching his hair and face. Breaking the surface he rested his neck
on the back slope and sighed. His first night had been interesting, seeing the
sorting and the welcome speech from the wrong side of the staff table. He
wondered if it would ever feel like the right
side. Men and women who had taught him had been unbelievably welcoming but he
stuck out like a sore thumb.

All except one, that is� Ron�s thoughts drifted back to the
confrontations with Severus Snape and made a face. Fucking greasy prick. Petty enough to fight
over a seat. Honestly.

Severus Snape had been one of the
biggest reservations that Ron actually had about accepting the very generous
salary for what was, essentially, at best a part-time job with full board and
fantastic holiday. Harry had yelled at him and called him an idiot for passing
up such a cushy chance purely because of the presence of one acerbic
middle-aged man. Ron had ignored his best friend in March, but the day before,
when Minerva had thrown in the possibility of an international school Quidditch
tournament, he�d been suckered in, much to his mother�s delight.

It wasn�t entirely out of the
blue that he should have been offered the Quidditch position. Immediately after
the war, when the glory was still strung out in the cheerful party decorations
leftover from the ample celebrations, he had been approached by a number of
scouts, as had Harry. Somehow his stint on the Gryffindor team had made the
press when people suddenly because interested in him and the teams had picked
up on it. He had fallen off the chair the morning he�d opened the letter from
the Cannons inviting him for an unconditional try-out, a massive grin plastered
over his face.

And then Kingsley had firecalled, and said his Order of Merlin was ready, and he
had something else, too.

The �something else� had been
instant entrance to the Auror department in the Ministry. Ron had been stunned
�with no NEWTs beneath his belt, he had really assumed
he could kiss that particular dream goodbye on the cold nights he sat in the
stinking tent hunting horcruxes, missing his seventh
year.

Except, it was never really your dream, was it? It was Harry�s dream.
And you wanted to be with, and like, Harry. And so it sort of ended up being
your dream, too.

Ron was, three years down the
line, fully prepared to admit that taking on somebody else�s dream as his own had
not been the smartest of moves. With a sigh he sat up in the hot water and
looked around at his bathroom.

The rooms he�d been allocated in
the castle were far more extravagant than his flat had ever been. He had shared
it with Harry, in the beginning, whilst Grimmauld Place was renovated to be
habitable. Ron had loved the personal freedom to do what he wanted, without school
rules, or his mother�s. Harry had been an easy flatmate, as messy as he was but
a dab hand at cleaning charms, whilst Ron cooked when he felt like it.

Which wasn�t very often, we lived on crap that first year�

Ron had signed away the flat the
day before. There was little point in wasting the rent on it whilst he had his
job at the school, where he had everything provided. It was obvious he would
end up staying with his parents during the holidays, until he had enough
gumption to bite the bullet and buy his own house.

Hermione already had. After
retrieving her parents from Australia,
they had been keen for her to leap onto the property market once it was clear
she wouldn�t have to return to Hogwarts to achieve her NEWTs.
Ron had visited the upmarket London
flat plenty of times when they were dating, and continued when they weren�t.

McGonagall had curiously asked
him the day before why he wasn�t marrying Granger. He had replied, as he always
did �because people always asked,
that it wasn�t a particularly good idea to marry someone that you didn�t love.

His frank answer always stumped
his questioners, too, and his new employer had proved no exception to that
rule, becoming flustered and shuffling the parchment on her desk.

Ron had tried loving Hermione in
a way which amounted to more than a brother. They had dated at the end of the
war, but it had only really taken a year for the heat to cool between the two
of them, far beyond the usual way a relationship cooled when the participants
became used to one another.

Looking down into the purple
water, Ron knew why the fire had died. Too much expectation, two personalities
too different to make it, two different life goals�

And far, far too much gay.

There was a reason he had spent a
year in Romania
sleeping on his brother�s agony-inducing sofa bed. The one openly gay member of
the family, Charlie had been his clear destination from the off. His brother
had been wonderful, pointing things out frankly, detailing everything with comforting
ease.

Went a bit too far that time he caught me sharing the sofa bed though.
And instead of leaving, offered tips. Cheeky sod.

A charmed glittering star floated
through the water and he followed it with his eyes, a smile turning up his lips
despite what it represented. Hermione�s obsession with all bath things luxurious
had rubbed off on him, it seemed, and the first thing he would be doing in the
morning would be drafting a letter gloating about his absolutely massive tub.
It didn�t particularly surprise either of them,
but bowled over Harry, that they had been able to pick up their caustic
friendship as though their year of romantic exploration with one another had
never happened. In Ron�s mind it was just proof that it really was all they were ever meant to have.
Harry had obviously expected fights, screaming, to be torn between the two once
again as he had been so many times before.

But apart from their usual minor
squabbles, which Ron wouldn�t swap for the world, the three of them were better
friends than ever.

Not many girls that will go out and buy you a celebratory cake for
saying �I�m gay�.

In supreme fashion, his friends
had merely looked at him in shock for a few moments, then shrugged, asked if he
had a boyfriend, and then continued discussing whether Harry should order
chicken or beef. Ron remembered how his hands had shaken beneath the pub table,
relief coursing through him like a bizarre intravenous drug which elated him
beyond all other means. His mother had been harder, but then his mother was always more work than everybody else.

All she was disappointed about was that I didn�t have a bloody
boyfriend for her to meet.

The lack of a partner wasn�t
something that Ron foresaw changing within the near future, not working where
he was. His colleagues were, as they had been at the Auror HQ, off-limits.

Never mind. That�s what porn, sex toys and my right hand are for.

With that consoling thought, Ron
heaved himself out of the bath and yawned, suddenly desperate for his bed.

***

Well. First day might have been a success. Nobody fell off, at any
rate.

Ron sat at the staff table,
realising just how loud the students were at mealtimes. He failed to see that
he had ever been so loud, or, in case of the first years, that he had ever been
that small. They were positively
tiny; some of the school broomsticks were taller. He had to fight hard to keep
the smile off his face remembering their wide eyes when he�d promised that if
they got through the lesson without any broken bones he�d let them toss a Quaffle about hovering a few feet off the ground until
their time was up.

Ron would be the first to confess
that he hadn�t particularly enjoyed school for the academic achievement.
Therefore, like most young teachers, he had decided that whatever he could do
to make it more enjoyable for every student that wasn�t angling to be the next
Hermione Granger, he would do it. If promising slightly illegal Quidditch
practice kept them happy, he�d do it until someone prohibited him. That
afternoon it had seemingly worked.

There were some pupils who were
definitely not built for life on a broomstick, and they had been clear from the
minute that he gave the call to summon the brooms. Soothing words and the
promise that the old twigs were temperamental drew placated smiles, and they�d
gone from there.

Certainly no Harry Potter zooming off
against a Malfoy, though.

Thinking back to his own first
ever flying lesson, the one he had taught that afternoon had been considerably
calmer. He could still remember the crunch of Neville�s broken wrist if he
thought hard enough. Wincing, he reached for his pumpkin juice, his eyes
flicking up to look at the approaching person.

Oh, for the love of Merlin�s balls�

�Sir?�

Ron swallowed the mouthful he had
taken and set the goblet down, trying to remember that
snapping on the first day probably wouldn�t do his popularity any favours. But
the seventh year Slytherin in front of him had been hounding him literally all
day.

�Yes, Mr. Dunn?�

Never, ever going to get used to having to call them that. Mister and
Miss� fucking weird! Not to mention that they�re calling me Sir� this place is
a fucking dominant�s wet dream.

�I was wondering if you�d
consider giving us early clearance for the pitch,� the student spoke as though
it wasn�t the fifth time he had already asked the question in the course of
twelve hours.

�Look, I understand your need to
get out on the pitch,� Ron said fairly, turning the palm of his hand up as he
spoke, keeping his eyes earnest and the annoyance out of his face. �But you
know, as I�ve already told you four times today, I can�t clear any of the teams
to practice until your try-outs have taken place.�

�But we-�

�I don�t care if you�ve �got�
your team,� Ron shrugged. �You should give the lower years a chance. It�ll be
your loss if you miss out on new talent because you�re happy as it is. Play it
fair, hold the try outs, if you find nobody, then it�s not much of a loss.�

�Except a weeks worth of extra
practice!� the boy pouted and Ron almost laughed.

�Sorry, Dunn, but you have my
answer and its no. As I told the Gryffindor captain when she asked me, once,
everybody will be on equal footing and therefore this
disadvantages nobody. One extra week won�t win you the cup, but a better
seeker or chaser might.�

Ron stared back as the boy glared
at him, adding a pleasant smile.

�Fine,� was the reply through
gritted teeth. �But if I find anyone on that pitch��

�You�ll what, exactly?�

There was a muttered reply amidst which Ron was quite sure he heard the words
�Professor Snape�.

�By all means, go and see your
Head of House,� Ron shrugged. �He can give you express permission for the pitch
but I can override that, I am the Quidditch co-ordinator and I�m saying you
can�t practice until you�ve had a fair try-out for new members.�

�Hooch never did this!� the
protest was rough with frustration.

�Well, in case you haven�t
noticed, Mr. Dunn, I�m not Madame Hooch. So. Unless
you have anything else to say, can I suggest that you take your seat and eat
your dinner?�

With one last contemptuous glare
thrown, Ron watched as the tall boy stomped back off to the Slytherin table and
muttered to his team. He was just about to relax when he heard a delicate snort
of derision to his right.

�Something
amusing?� Ron raised his eyebrows as he looked over Snape�s form,
sitting serving himself dinner.

�Yes, the seemingly honest belief
that you will be able to control your students,� Snape replied with a cruel
smirk. �And that is before the
consideration of teaching them anything successfully comes into play.�

As they were relatively isolated
at the table Ron had no problem with replying in kind. �Well, Snape, you�d know
all about excellent teaching, wouldn�t you? Did so well on my year� with that
whole Occlumency business� and let�s not forget your demotion from the Defence
position��

He kept his tone airy and light
as he reached for his goblet again and looked out over the hall.

�Why are you here?� Snape�s voice
was tense.

�The same reason you are,� Ron
shrugged, and drained the liquid down the back of his throat. He got to his
feet. �And if you plan to spend the school year sending digs at me because of
the past, Snape, then you should know I�ve always been a �down and dirty play �em at their own game type.��

�Mature,� Snape sneered.

�Well, about as mature as you,�
Ron smiled, �I�ll have those dates for you in half an hour, they�re in my
office.� He left, his robes swishing around him.

Well, Snape 0, Weasley 1. Crowd goes wild and all that.

***

Severus sat at his desk whilst
his seventh years worked over their NEWT coursework. He had never appreciated a
class more than he had this one �no Gryffindors, one surprisingly intelligent
Hufflepuff, two brilliant Ravenclaws and four overly placid Slytherins. He
barely even needed to direct them during most lessons, they were so driven
towards their goals, and hence why he was spending the lesson reading,
conducting his own research.

Because they were so well behaved,
he had chosen not to instantly put a
stop to the chattering whispers which had sprung up around them all the while
he could still hear the steady scratching of quills.

You�ve mellowed, Severus, there was a time when talking in your class
was tantamount to a month-long detention.

For any other year, it practically
still was. Severus kept his eyes on the book but pricked up his ears when he
heard how their conversation had developed.

�What do you think about the new
Quidditch bloke?� the Hufflepuff asked of the female Ravenclaw.

�Oh, God� fittest teacher ever,� was the breathless reply. �I wish
I played Quidditch.�

�Maybe we should all feign a
complete incompetency on our brooms?� a Slytherin piped up.

�I think they might see through
that,� the male Ravenclaw snorted. �But he�s alright.�

�Ooh, you play Quidditch, don�t
you? Have you talked to him, is he nice? Does he seem like the sort of guy
that�ll date a seventh year gal?�

Oh, pipe down, brazen hussy, Severus muttered in his mind and could
barely keep a smirk off his lips as he listened.

�Actually,� one of the male
Slytherins whispered, his voice dipping so low that Severus barely heard it. �I
heard that he�s not one to date any women at all.�

The shocked gasp was a little too
loud and they all blanched and worked in silence until one of them thought it
was safe to talk again.

�No way, that�s
not fair!� the Hufflepuff hissed. �Total waste.�

�Maybe he swings both ways?� the
Ravenclaw asked hopefully. �You know, they say that the bisexual men are more
gratifying in bed.�

�Who says that?� her male
counterpart scoffed.

�People,� she backtracked.
�Anyway�I just� Godric� I know he�s ginger and everything, but� I was watching
him yesterday, when he was helping Hagrid� rolled his
sleeves up and he was all sweaty��

She made a groan conducive to a
longing shiver and Severus realised it was time to stop the conversation, which
he did by slapping his book shut.

�As interesting as you may find
it to conspire over the school�s newest attainment, I doubt he has anything to
do with your projects,� he glared at them. �Enough.�

�Sir, that�s not true,� the
Hufflepuff pointed out with a smile. �Harriet�s project is on love potions�
willing test subject, Etty?�

�Bitch,� the Ravenclaw mouthed,
flushing a hideous red.

�What amazes me is that you are
both still talking,� Severus lowered his voice dangerously and honed the glare
a little more. �Whatever Mr. Weasley is, it is none of your business, and rest
assured, even if he were the type to
date a seventh year, I�m sure his contract prevents it.�

�Does yours?� one of his usually
compliant Slytherins asked.

�Yes,� Severus replied testily. �Now. Do I have to assign detentions here or are we finished
with this preposterous line of enquiry?�

The looks on their faces told
Severus that no, they were absolutely not.

�For impertinence, detention, all
of you,� he turned to the desk to give them their chance to send horrified
looks at his back. �And if I hear one more whisper of Mr. Weasley you can all
be sure I will tell him of your in-depth conversation over dinner. Including
your opinions of his arms,� he shot at the Ravenclaw, who surpassed red into
puce.

Smirking, he dropped back down
into his chair and opened his book again, giving them a pointed jab at their
books, which they glumly returned to.

He tried to concentrate on the
words in his own book, but they kept blurring as his mind wandered elsewhere.

He isn�t gay. He was all over Granger. But then, I didn�t see a wedding
ring, didn�t see the overly simpering piece in the Prophet over their marriage,
unlike with Potter�

As must as he wanted to ignore
the idea, he couldn�t deny the facts.

I am disinclined to a preference, and he is apparently gay. I haven�t
been laid since before the war, and he is young, and muscled�

Exhaling hard, he berated himself
for allowing himself to be riled by his students' gossip, turned the page, and
determinedly ploughed through the text.

***

�How do you think your first week
went, then?� The squeaking voice of Filius Flitwick
asked happily across the pub table.

�It was good,� Ron smiled. �I
think. I hope.�

�You seem to be fitting in a
treat,� Professor Sinistra assured him. �Won�t be
long before you�re part of the furniture like the rest of us, don�t you worry.�

�Darn sight better looking than
the rest of the furniture,� Sprout commented. �I�ve confiscated so many notes
in my lessons this week I�m thinking of banning parchment.�

Ron spluttered through his
mouthful of ale at the implication that the notes had been on the subject of
his appearance. He wasn�t a fool, and he had noticed the lingering eyes and
whispers, but notes were something he hadn�t really factored in.

�Me too,�
Filius confirmed with a teasing wink. �Ah, and
here�s the final member of our Friday night party!�

Ron almost groaned as he looked
up. He had let the other teachers talk him into joining them for a drink in The
Three Broomsticks to try and ease the discomfort he felt around them, but
Severus Snape had not been mentioned. If he had, Ron wouldn�t have agreed to attend.

No chance of fucking getting rid of the discomfort now. Sodding great
bastard.

The sneering barbs had continued
all week, and Ron had either battled or surrendered depending on those that
surrounded them. He was determined that either way Snape wouldn�t turn him into
a doormat, but he couldn�t deny the sick thrill which ran riot along his spine
whenever the man looked to be turning on him.

�Severus, the weekend at last,�
Sprout toasted her drink to him. �We got you your usual.�

Why, why am I so blind that I didn�t fucking notice the extra glass of
wine on the table? Typical, blood red, looks just like it� should have guessed,
could only be his. You�re a twat, Weasley.

Ron watched as Snape slid
wordlessly into the empty chair at the table and took a deep gulp of wine.

�We were just discussing Ron�s
popularity with the students,� Filius informed the newcomer. �And
how the amount of confiscated notes has increased tenfold.�

Snape gave a non-committal grunt
and drank again, keeping his eyes lowered to the table. Ron could practically
feel the hostility pouring off the dark-haired man, but recognised it was not wholly
for him. The social situation, it seemed, discomforted Snape as much as it did Ron.
Perhaps if he hadn�t felt so uncomfortable, he would never have noticed it. But
there was something in the usually broadened shoulders which were slumped, and in
the way usually challenging eyes were pointed down at the wood of the table,
which highlighted that Snape wasn�t happy to be there.

Well then the stupid fucker shouldn�t have come. Ron took a swig of
ale and averted his eyes over to the bar. But
then you aren�t happy either, and you still came.

�Minerva was telling us something
about an International School Quidditch cup,� Sprout turned to him with an
interested expression. �Is it going to happen, how�s it going to work?�

�Well, we�re still ironing out
details� but the Ministry thinks it would be helpful for Hogwarts to try and
make bridges to the other schools out there. In the Muggle world that�s done
through sport, so there�s no reason it can�t work for us. It�d be a simple
league tournament heading up to a final match for a cup.�

�Even after the
disaster of the Triwizard?� A witch whose name
he had forgotten posed the question.

�They were reluctant, but I s�pose a lot�s different now to then,� he shrugged. �Plus,
if it makes you feel better, Harry won�t be competing�� he winked and the warm
laugh made him feel just a tiny bit warmer.

�How is Harry?�

�He�s fine, enjoying his job at
the Ministry,� Ron curled his fingers around the ale bottle and pulled it close
to him.

�And Ginny?
Is there the chance of hearing the pitter-patter of baby Potter feet any time
soon?�

�No, Ginny�s contracted with the
Harpies for a while yet,� Ron grinned. �And she keeps going a bit green at the
suggestion, but mum�s working on her.�

The conversation bounced off then
and Ron was left to his own devices, so he slumped into his chair and looked
interestedly at each of his colleagues as they talked and laughed. It felt as
though it would never be normal to look on them as adults, possibly because
inside he still felt like a child. Everyone bar Snape had been thoroughly
polite and welcoming, so he knew the problem was coming from within himself.

�And so what
about you, Ron? Are you married, attached, partnered?�

Agh, nooo, not personal questions, fuck.

Expectant faces waited for his
answer and he cursed his pale colouring as his cheeks blushed unsubtly.

�Ah, no, not at the minute,� he
offered in a tone which he hoped would imply that he didn�t wish to discuss the
matter.

�I thought that for a while you
were courting Hermione Granger?� Snape�s voice cut across the table.

�I was,� Ron shrugged and didn�t
say any more. Who says the word courting these
days?!

�Sometimes what we have as
children doesn�t work as adults,� Sprout said kindly.

�You might wish to know that some
of the student body appear to have information that you�re homosexual,� Snape
said, sipping his wine.

Ron�s blush deepened then as eyes
swivelled between the two of them.

Nothing like a good discussion on sexuality to step up the horrendous
�getting to know you phase�. Thanks, you greasy dickhead.

�Well, whoever their source was,
then they were correct,� he said finally, and looked up into Snape�s eyes,
daring him to pass comment.

The tiniest, most infuriating
smirk he had ever seen tweaked at the man�s unattractively thin lips and Ron�s
blood began to boil. He grabbed his bottle and took a mouthful.

�Well, that�s nothing to alert
the Prophet over, Albus himself was gay, you know,
Ron?�

�I�d heard,� Ron looked to the speaker
and tried to smile.

But his blood simply wouldn�t
calm and he knew that the only thing that would make it would be to get as far
away from Severus Snape as he possibly could.

Let me guess, on the top of his list of �things I disapprove of to make
myself feel better than everyone else� are shirt-lifters. Well, fuck you,
Snape.

�I think I�m going to head back
to the castle,� he said gently, and set down his bottle. �Thank you for the
drink, remind me to repay the favour at some point.�

Ron swung his cloak around his
shoulders, purposefully not looking at the embarrassed faces around the table who didn�t seem to know quite what to say. He gave them a
courteous nod of his head and made for the door.

The background noise of the other
patrons wasn�t loud enough to drown out the admonishing collective hiss of
�Severus!� that erupted from the table as he pushed open the heavy door and
exited the pub.

***

�I merely thought it best to warn
him of the students� rumours,� Severus said bluntly, looking around at his
aggressors.

�And didn�t spare a thought for
how he would react if the rumours were true?�

�Well, no, not particularly. I
genuinely didn�t see that they would be.�

�Apologise,� Sprout demanded. �Now!�

�Certainly not,� Severus frowned
in disbelief. �It was certainly not my intention to make him to storm off. If
he cannot handle the questions from us then how do you feel he�ll fare beneath student pressure?�

�He�s finding it hard to fit in,
and as ever you make it no easier,� Filius glowered. �He�s the youngest of
anybody here by twenty years, Snape. Can�t you remember how you felt; your ages aren�t far off from
when you started here.�

Severus glared over the rim of
his wine glass. �I will not apologise, there was no need for his amateur dramatics.�
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