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Lions, Snakes, and Traitors, Oh My.	By : half_blood_princess Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 7717 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters therein. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
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OPENING:
Hogwarts, 7^th year, AU—in which Snape nor Dumbledore are dead, and Snape is still the Potions master. Hermione, Ron, and Harry are all still students and are very much involved with the Order of the Phoenix. However, a battle is coming, and loyalties will be questioned.
***
“Quiet! I will have silence in my classroom!” Professor McGonagall shouted over the excited students. “What is the commotion? Move aside, Mr. Longbottom! Seamus Finnegan—what are you—”
BOOM!
Seamus Finnegan emerged from the throng of students, his face covered in soot and his hair singed.
“To Madame Pomfrey with you, Mr. Finnegan. Whatever it is you were trying to do, I don’t want to know. Miss Granger, please escort Mr. Finnegan—make sure he gets there safely. It’s time to start class, the rest of you, so get to your seats!”
“Come on, Seamus.” Hermione took the ailing Gryffindor by the hand and led him out of McGonagall’s classroom.
After he’d been deposited safely into Madame Pomfrey’s care, Hermione was heading back to Transfiguration class when she ran into a crying Padma Patil.
“Padma! What’s wrong?”
“Professor Snape. He told me I shouldn’t expect to pass my NEWTs—and I’d never be a Potioneer!”
“Oh, Padma. You know he’s a git.” Hermione hugged her sobbing friend. “Don’t take it to heart. He’d tell Arsenius Jigger that he was a moron, and you know it. You know it’s true.”
“You’re right.” She sniffled. “Thanks for that.”
“Anytime, Padma. Where are you off to, now?”
“Well, I was going to see Professor Dumbledore to ask if I could drop Snape’s class and transfer to Trelawney’s…but I think I’ll give it one more go. In twenty years, that greasy git won’t be able to walk outside his front door without hearing my name! See you later, Granger!” With renewed confidence, Padma held her head up high and disappeared around the corner.
“Bye!”
Hermione was seething. Where did Snape get off, telling Padma she wasn’t good enough to become a Potioneer? Padma was the best in Potions—even Draco Malfoy couldn’t hold a candle to her talent.
Fortunately, Hermione had Potions next, and she fully planned on making Snape’s life hell, even if for a few hours. Smiling to herself, she went to Transfiguration.
___
“Turn to page six-hundred and ninety-four. Today,” he whirled his head around to Hermione, “we will be making a Polyjuice Potion. Something which I believe Miss Granger is quite familiar with.”
“I am quite familiar with it, indeed. I’ve studied well ahead—I can tell you all of the potions and their purposes, as well as the ingredients—if that is what you meant, Professor Snape. If you’re making an accusation, then please, let the class know what it is that you are accusing me of.”
‘Ooohs’ and ‘uh-oh’s’ echoed throughout the dank Potions room. Snape narrowed his eyes and Hermione could see his jaw flex. She smiled wider.
“Are you challenging me, Miss Granger?” He snapped.
“No, Professor Snape. Not at all! I was simply—”
“Pity. Are you done wasting my time?”
Hermione stifled her words and bit her lip.
“Good. Then, if everyone will open their books to page six-hundred and ninety-four, we can resume the lesson. Unless—Granger—you have objections to learning?”
“No, sir.”
Feeling defeated, Hermione avoided Snape’s gaze for the rest of the class. He knew about the ingredients she had Harry and Ron pilfer from his stores—but how did he know she was involved? She was still determined to give him a piece of her mind after class, but her original plan of making his life hell for a few hours fell apart.
After the last student had put their cauldron away, Hermione followed suit and walked up to Snape’s desk, where he was furiously writing. He didn’t stop, even when she cleared her throat to signal she was waiting for his acknowledgement.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione spoke. “Professor, I would like to have a word with you.”
“That’s more than one word, Granger. Leave.”
“Professor—”
“Leave!”
“I will not!” She slammed her hands down on his desk, and his head shot up, fury in his eyes.
“Perhaps you’d like to discuss this in detention, cleaning the cauldrons? Twenty house points from Gryffindor for mouthing off to a professor, Granger. Care to make it a hundred?”
“I don’t bloody care if you put me in detention for a month and take two hundred points! What gives you the right to treat students like dirt? And humiliate them? I’ve done nothing at all to you—”
“On the contrary, Miss Granger. I know all about your little plot to infiltrate Slytherin House and the theft of some of my stores—oh, yes. I have eyes and ears all around Hogwarts. And such language—another ten points from Gryffindor.”
“Your eyes and ears obviously don’t see and hear everything, Professor Snape.”
“Does this conversation have an end, or will you waste even more of my time, babbling?”
“Oh, I’ve got a point, all right. Stop bullying your students. If you spent half the time teaching them as you do berating them…”
Snape stood from his desk. His black robes billowed around him, and as he leaned forward, putting his face close to hers, his hair—surprisingly not as greasy as she’d imagined—fell around his face and created shadows where there hadn’t been before. His eyes were dark pools of ink, sucking her in.
“I will treat my students however I please. If you have a problem with my class or my methods—by all means, Granger—get out. Otherwise, shut up and do as you’re told. I’ve no time to argue with a silly little girl over inanities.”
A fire lit under Hermione and she exploded. “How dare you! Silly little girl? I know more about potions than you do, you greasy git!”
Hermione gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth, realising what she’d just said. She’d actually called him a greasy git.
“Well, well, well, Granger. It looks like you’ll be seeing me in detention for quite some time. Professor McGonagall will be informed immediately.”
He walked swiftly out of the room, leaving Hermione standing at his desk trying to catch her breath.
A few seconds later, a shout came from the hallway: “Well? Come along, Granger. I don’t plan to tell her. You will.”
Her stomach dropped to the floor. What would Professor McGonagall say? Would her parents be informed? She’d never been in any real trouble before…not this way, at least.
She followed Snape to McGonagall’s office, trailing as far behind him as she dared—but students whispered to each other as they passed, and she cast her eyes to the floor.
___
“Come in!” McGonagall’s voice sounded from behind her door.
Snape threw the door open and shoved Hermione inside.
“Miss Granger? Severus? What is this?”
“I believe Miss Granger has something to say.”
The words wouldn’t come. She stood, open-mouthed, not knowing how to start. Snape, growing impatient, pointed for Hermione to sit down in a chair adjacent to McGonagall’s desk. She sat down, dejected.
“No? Miss Granger is tongue-tied for what I dare say is the first time in her short life.”
“Severus, please. To the point?”
“Miss Granger will be serving detention with me—every day—for a month.
“What on earth for?”
“Disrespecting a professor.”
“You’ll have to be a bit more specific than that, I’m afraid. I won’t just let one of my students—”
“I believe the exact words were: ‘I know more about potions than you do, you greasy git’.”
McGonagall smirked quickly before uttering a surprised “Miss Granger! I’m shocked! I’ve never seen this behavior from you!”
Snape raised an eyebrow. McGonagall’s smile didn’t go unnoticed.
“I fully agree with detention, Severus—but a month? And what exactly will she be doing?”
“Yes, Minerva. A month. She will be organising my stores and making potions for Madame Pomfrey—since she’s so knowledgeable.”
“Well, Miss Granger, it looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you. Perhaps this will teach you to think before you speak.” Her eyes were sympathetic, but her words were harsh.
As they left her office, Hermione stormed past Snape, tears running down her face. It was her own fault…but she was still so angry.
“Enjoy your last afternoon of freedom, Miss Granger,” he called out after her.
She didn’t stop running until she reached the Gryffindor common room.
___
“He did what?” Harry asked, as Hermione wrapped her chenille throw tighter around herself.
“He provoked me. And he knew it would draw a response. I can’t…I can’t believe I let myself get so angry.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Hermione. Once, he made a student clean all of the cauldrons and the floors with a toothbrush just for rolling their eyes at him. This is going to be a breeze.” Ron mused.
Hermione glared at Ron. Shortly afterward, a pillow slapped him in the face. He cried out in shock and fell from the arm of the couch.
“Well, it’s not like you were lying. He really is a greasy git.” Harry put a hand on Hermione’s shoulder and squeezed. “You can do this, Hermione.”
“I know. I just don’t like him—and I don’t want to help him.”
“You’re helping Madame Pomfrey. Look at it that way. Just indirectly.”
She smiled, putting her hand on his and squeezing back.
“You’re right.”
“I know.” Harry grinned.
“OY! Let’s get to dinner before it’s too late! I’m starving!” Ron shouted as he ran out the door.
“What is it with you and food?” Hermione shouted, dashing after the boys.
___
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I have written on FF.net under another name, citrus_severus, but decided that I needed a fresh start and a new name, as it's been years since I've posted anything, and my writing has gotten much better--and I have no plans to continue with that specific account. I was also posting mainly Sesshomaru/Kagome shipped IY fanfiction, not Harry Potter. This is a WIP, with a lot of twists and turns, so please stay tuned for more! Let me know if there's something I ought to improve on or have missed. Constructive criticism is ALWAYS welcome!
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Lions, Snakes, and Traitors, Oh My.