The Year that the House Cup was Pointless

“Five points from Slytherin!” “Ten points from Gryffindor!” “You rotten bastard! Five more points from Slytherin!” Minerva, Filius, Pomona, and the other professors watched the red and green hourglasses as the jewels within them disappeared slowly but surely. “Minerva, shouldn’t you stop them?” Pomona murmured. “I mean, Filius and I aren’t complaining, but the students will be unhappy.” “Hmm.” Minerva took a sip of her tea and pointedly glanced at the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables where the students were grinning and exchanging coins and gossip as their professors waged war. “They don’t appear too unhappy, do they?” “TWENTY POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN!” “I’m unsure if it was wise to hire Harry so quickly,” Filius said in a quiet squeak. “He’s still young and temperamental—” “FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!” Minerva raised a brow at Filius. “You were saying about Harry being young and temperamental?” Filius chuckled and bent his head in supplication. “Are you going to even ask them to justify the points?” Minerva cleared her throat and got to her feet. “Professor Snape, why did you remove fifty points from Gryffindor just now?” Severus turned from where he had been screaming in Harry’s face. His cheeks were flushed, his chest was heaving, and his dark eyes were blazing with what Minerva hoped others would believe to be rage. Otherwise it would be an entirely inappropriate display in front of the students. “For having an incompetent, idiotic, impulsive—” “I’m idiotic?” Harry scoffed loudly. “YOU BROKE MY BROOM, SEVERUS.” Severus paused for a moment. “Which broomstick was it?” he asked with a faint hint of worry in his eyes. Harry was clearly caught off guard by the genuine question. “The one I just bought last summer?” Severus nodded curtly then curled his lip in a sneer. “Good. Thirty more points from Gryffindor for unprofessionalism.” “ONE HUNDRED POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN FOR THEIR HEAD OF HOUSE BREAKING MY BROOMSTICK!” Harry yelled, appearing as angrily defiant and mildly confused at twenty-one as he did at fifteen. He was taller, more filled out as a man would be, carried himself more confidently in the free world he worked so hard to secure, and there was a glimmer in his green eyes that Minerva would be a fool to miss. Harry was still filled with the same fire and passion he had always had though- that much was blatantly obvious. “YOU HIT ME WITH A BLUDGER, POTTER!” Severus yelled before turning on his heel and storming from the Great Hall. “Oh, don’t ‘Potter’ me, Snape,” Harry scowled as he followed hot on Severus’ trail. “You shouldn’t have been lurking about…” “You see?” Minerva said calmly as she took her seat once again as the two men carried their argument elsewhere. “Perfectly reasonable explanations for the point losses.” Pomona laughed quietly as the students exploded into laughter and loud chatter. “I’m afraid that Gryffindor and Slytherin are going to be in dead last for the House Cup this year, Minerva.” She nodded her head to the hourglasses where the points continued to disappear. “Of course they won’t,” Minerva said, quite unconcerned and highly amused. “Severus and Harry will refill their own houses glasses by breakfast tomorrow. Watch, Pomona, you’ll see.” Pomona looked skeptical, but Minerva was confident. *** “You gave Russo eighty points for good dental hygiene?!” The NEWT potion students looked up in interest as Professor Potter stormed in their classroom. Mandy Barrett exchanged a smirk with Hector Couthe as Professor Snape gave Professor Potter a bored look of apathy. “I don’t expect a dunderhead like you to understand the importance of hygiene, Potter, but it is highly undervalued,” Professor Snape drawled. “And, if your vision is not as impaired as your ridiculous glasses make it seem, perhaps you can notice I am in the middle of teaching?” Professor Potter’s jaw dropped for a moment. “I brush my teeth!” he said hotly. “Congratulations,” Professor Snape said sarcastically. “I suppose you’ll be wanting an Order of Merlin for that as well?“ Mandy ducked her head to avoid being caught laughing. It was just… when Mandy was a first and second year, she thought Harry Potter hated Professor Snape. Then, in her third year, she hated ‘Headmaster’ Snape. Then Harry Potter killed Voldemort and told everyone that Professor Snape was ‘instrumental to the war efforts’ and they both received Order of Merlin’s and now they spent all their time flirting. It was really funny, honestly. “Yeah.” Professor Potter curled his lip up in an eerily similar sneer to Professor Snape’s. “I really want an Order of Merlin for brushing my teeth, Severus.” Professor Snape smirked from behind his desk. “I propose you ask Kingsley then, Potter. In the meantime, I am teaching, so piss off.” Hector had a theory that the snake venom that nearly killed Professor Snape carried some sort of calming properties and smoothed the rough edges of his personality. Alexander, Hector’s brother, said it was the ‘stress reduction of no longer masquerading as a death eater’. Mandy was pretty sure it was just having Professor Potter around more because Professor Snape had been much moodier before the Headmistress hired Professor Potter for defense. Professor Potter muttered something under his breath with a pointed look at the book Professor Snape had been idly flicking through while the students worked on their potions. “Fine,” Professor Potter said louder, ignoring the way that Professor Snape was ignoring him. Professor Potter glanced around the room and his eyes stopped on Mandy. “Remind me what your name is?” he asked her. Mandy absolutely was not offended that they’d been housemates in Gryffindor for two years and she’d been in his defense class all year and he still couldn’t remember her name. “Mandy Barrett, sir,” she said politely. Professor Potter nodded at her. “You’ve got nice hair, eighty-one points to Gryffindor, Miss Barrett.” Professor Potter then turned and strolled out of the potions classroom with his head held high. Professor Snape waited until Professor Potter’s footsteps receded down the corridor to look up from his book. His dark eyes caught Mandy’s and he looked momentarily thoughtful. “Try not to let Professor Potter’s words go to your head,” he said drily. “The man would not know nice hair if it smacked him in the face.” Mandy thought what he really meant was: don’t be flattered, Potter is mine. “I think he prefers dark hair anyway, sir,” Mandy smiled blithely as she tucked a lock of her blonde hair behind her ears. Hector hissed out a quiet laugh and a few other students who were in the betting pool chuckled and then coughed in an attempt to hide their laughter. Professor Snape didn’t yell at her for her comment, in fact there was a small spark of approval in the back of his eyes. “Quite so,” he agreed calmly. “Carry on.” Hector grabbed Mandy’s hand after class and shook his head at her. “You’re brave,” he grinned. “If they don’t figure it out by Christmas though, you owe me ten galleons.” *** Hermione shared a bewildered look with Ron. ‘What on Earth?’ she mouthed. Ron shrugged. Neville, who was sitting on the other side of Ron, grinned and shook his head. ‘Harry’ he mouthed back as a one-word explanation. Hermione and Ron had been excited to come to Hogwarts for Christmas dinner and spend the day with ‘Professor Potter’ and ‘Apprentice Longbottom’, but now… Hermione was mostly confused now and she strongly suspected that Neville could fill her in on whatever they had missed that led to this… whatever it was going on between Harry and Snape. It started literally as soon as they stepped in the Great Hall. Hermione and Ron had been chatting happily with Harry, filling him in on the various going-on’s in their lives when Harry paused in the doorway. Hermione looked over his shoulder and saw Snape’s head snap up and immediately turn towards Harry. And Harry’s cheeks turned a little pink before he smirked and interrupted Ron in the middle of a story about a mishap in auror training. “You guys want to sit with Minerva?” Harry asked brightly. “Uh…” Ron looked around at the mostly empty hall. They done away with the house tables and the Head Table, but there were still enough students that they had put up half a dozen round tables that seated perhaps eight people. And there were four empty ones. And McGonagall was sitting with Snape. So Hermione thought Harry really meant that he wanted to sit with Snape for some reason and she desperately wanted to know why. “Sure,” Hermione told him, stepping on Ron’s foot quickly. She followed behind Harry as he led them to the table with Professor McGonagall, Snape, and Sprout. Harry took the seat directly across from Snape and Ron and Hermione took the empty ones beside Harry. Ron tried to sit next to Harry, but Hermione elbowed him and took the seat first. “Hermione, Ron,” Professor McGonagall smiled warmly at them, “how are you?” “We’re—” “Potter, you do understand that, as incredible as it may seem, you are a professor now and expected to dress with a sense of professionalism, correct?” Hermione bristled at Snape’s curt words and she looked Harry over carefully. She thought he looked lovely in his maroon dress shirt and his casual black robes over it. In fact, Hermione looked more carefully at Harry, Harry looked like he had put a bit more thought in his appearance than usual. She was pretty sure his hair was even combed. “Severus, you do understand that, as incredible as it may seem, this is Christmas break and professors don’t actually have to wear twenty layers of robes, correct?” Harry asked with a quirked eyebrow. Hermione bit her lip and glanced at Ron as the two of them tried to stifle their laughter. It wasn’t funny, not really, Hermione had hoped that Harry and Snape could get along now that the war was over and they were coworkers, but she could see that some things never changed. “Five points from Gryffindor, Potter.” “Six points from Slytherin, Severus.” Hermione’s head turned to McGonagall, her mouth open in a little ‘o’ of indignation for the blatant abuse of the points system, but McGonagall merely shared a secret and sly smile with Sprout and summoned a bottle of wine. “Would anyone care for a drink?” she asked them. “Yes, please,” Ron said quickly. Professor McGonagall poured six glasses of wine and passed them out to each other them. “Merry Christmas,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes as she raised her glass. “May we all receive exactly what we desire tonight,” she added with a quick flick of those twinkling eyes towards Snape. “Cheers,” Ron said merrily as he clinked glasses with her. “Never thought I’d be having wine with you, Professor,” he laughed. “Mad world, eh?” “And it just gets madder by the day, Ron,” McGonagall said with a smile. “I do insist you call me Minerva, as I fervently hope to never again be your professor.” “If only Potter were as easily gotten rid of,” Snape quipped without any real heat to his words. Harry rolled his eyes and took a long drink of his wine. “You know me, Severus, I’m hard to shake. Like…” “A fatal plague?” Snape suggested. “Oh, look, there’s Neville,” Hermione said, interrupting what she thought was (maybe?) a brewing argument between the two men. “Neville!” Hermione waved at their friend who just entered the Great Hall. Neville looked at the table, his eyes lingering on Harry and Snape for a peculiar moment, then he laughed and loped over to them with a light-hearted smile. “Hermione, Ron, how are you?” he asked as he took the seat between Sprout and Harry. “Wonderful,” Ron grinned. He stretched his arm over the back of Hermione’s chair. “How’s your apprenticeship?” “Neville is doing splendidly,” Sprout said with a proud and motherly smile for Neville that caused him to blush a little. “I’d say he’s becoming quite close to being a true expert in his field.” “Oh?” Snape looked blandly over at McGonagall Minerva. “Do we hire experts in their fields now? I thought perhaps you merely accepted the application for any riffraff who seeks employment.” Since Hermione was pretty sure that was another unfair jab at Harry, she wasn’t sure why Harry snorted. “Is that how you got the job?” Harry asked him with a perfect face of innocence. “I always wondered since you can’t teach worth a damn.” “I am a potions master, Potter,” Snape sneered. “You are a dunderhead with magical levels of luck.” Hermione glanced at Minerva- but she just turned and engaged Sprout in a conversation. So she turned to Neville, but he looked much more amused than worried. “I killed Voldemort,” Harry said. He took another drink of his wine, his pink cheeks pinking up even more. “And I was the youngest auror in Ministry history to pass the field tests on the first try.” “You got a lucky shot with an expelliarmus and were hired due to your fame,” Snape said. “No true talent to be had, Potter.” Food popped up on the table, but Hermione was rather distracted by the (playful?) argument between Harry and Snape. “Let’s duel then,” Harry offered quickly. “Revive the old dueling club, eh? See if I’ve got any talent or not.” “And embarrass you in front of your students more than you do on your own? I think not.” “I think it’s a great idea,” Minerva said as she slid a plate of food to Harry with a pointed nod. “The students would really benefit by both of your expertise.” “I don’t think that Severus calling the students insufferable morons is likely to benefit them,” Harry said with… With a grin. Aimed at Snape. Hermione glanced at Ron, but he was as startled as she was. Harry cannot handle his wine, Hermione thought with no small amount of amusement. “And yet, it must have impacted your education in some way,” Snape drawled. He smirked when Harry’s eyes brightened at his jab (jest?) and he took a sip of his wine. “Potter, who would you say was the most competent defense professor you had during your time?” “Lupin,” Harry said immediately. “Then Barty Crouch Junior, then Umbridge, then Quirrell, then Lockhart, and then you,” Harry smiled charmingly, “sir.” Snape stiffened and narrowed his eyes at Harry while everyone else laughed or, in Minerva’s case, tried not to laugh. “How in Merlin’s name, did you come to rank me beneath the Ministry toad?” Snape demanded. Hermione and Neville shared a look of humor mixed with fear as Harry’s eyes lit up and they both knew that he was hoping Snape would ask him precisely that. “She eventually managed to teach me something you never did, Severus,” Harry drawled in what was absolutely a teasing way, “the benefits of shutting my mouth on occasion.” “And also to never insult centaurs,” Hermione added in a whisper to a broadly smiling Ron. Snape blinked at Harry in surprise for an instant before he laughed, actually laughed (it was terrifying), and shook his head with an odd glimmer in his eyes. “Well, you wouldn’t be the man you are today if you knew when to hold your tongue, would you?” That… Hermione glanced at Snape’s still full goblet to ensure he wasn’t drunk… that sounded suspiciously close to a compliment. Harry certainly thought so because he was positively beaming. “And you wouldn’t be the bastard you are today if you knew how to compliment someone properly,” he winked. Oh God. Harry survived Voldemort only to be murdered by Snape on Christmas. Snape didn’t pull his wand though, he merely smirked and raised his glass towards Harry. “Indeed,” he said calmly before taking a sip. Hermione looked toward Neville, hoping he could somehow explain what on earth was going on here, but he merely grinned and mouthed the word ‘Harry’. Which was both an entirely complete answer and not an answer at all. After everyone finished eating and were surprisingly making friendly small talk, Harry stretched and casually removed his robes. “Bit warm in here, isn’t it?“ he asked as he rolled up his shirt sleeves and propped his elbows on the table. Hermione sighed at the slur in Harry’s voice, honestly, she’d be surprised if Harry wasn’t feeling flushed. She turned to tell Ron that perhaps they should help Harry get to his quarters when she noticed Snape staring intensely at Harry’s newly exposed forearms. Snape staring at Harry’s forearms with the same glimmer in his eyes that Ron got when he was staring at Hermione with a soft smile and a whispered suggestion of things they could go do together. Harry noticed too, apparently, because he steepled his hands together and propped his chin on them. “What’s wrong, Severus? Am I out of the dress code that you’ve decided to enforce on Christmas?” Snape cleared his throat and averted his eyes from Harry’s arms to Ron. “Mister Weasley, how is your auror training?” he asked, apropos of nothing. Hermione saw Harry’s eyebrows pinch with what seemed to be disappointment as Ron stammered. “Er… alright, I guess. I’m not failing anyways.” “Excellent.” Snape got to his feet and nodded passively at Ron. “Ten points to Gryffindor then. Goodnight.” Hermione and Ron watched with unconcealed shock as Snape strode right out of the Great Hall. She turned to Harry, but the disappointed look he had had morphed into a surprised, but obviously, pleased look. “Hey, Minerva?” “Yes, Harry?” Harry gave Minerva a crooked and drunk smile. “Eleven points to S-Slytherin for hiring me.” “Oh, Mister Potter,” Minerva smiled and shook her head. “Let’s get you to bed so you don’t end up in the wrong one tonight, hmm?” Harry laughed and waved goodnight to the others as he allowed Minerva to guide him out of the Great Hall with linked arms and heads bent together conspiratorially. “What on earth was that?” Hermione breathed, looking toward Sprout and Neville for some sort of explanation. “Minerva was a Gryffindor?” “But Severus is a Slytherin,” Sprout said. “Did Snape really give me ten points? I’m not even a student!” Ron cried. “Yeah but Harry’s the head of Gryffindor, isn’t he?” Neville grinned. Hermione and Ron were walking slowly to the guest rooms Minerva had given them to use for the holiday when it finally clicked in Hermione’s mind. “Oh!” She let out a gasp that was closely followed with a breathless giggle. “They were flirting!” “Who?” Ron asked. “Harry and Snape.” Ron laughed so loudly that the portraits on the walls crowded in the one nearest them to see what was so funny. “Harry was not flirting with Snape,” he said. “Merlin, love, how much did you drink?” “Much less than you,” Hermione pointed out. “And they were, I’m certain of it. That’s why they were… um… giving each other’s house points?” That was a peculiar way to flirt. Ron snorted and tightened his arm around Hermione’s waist. “I think they’re just tired of fighting and they’re mates now, or something. Makes sense; Harry’s a cheeky prat and Snape’s a witty bastard. They probably just like to joke around.” Hermione hummed and let Ron lead them to their room. “Well I think that Molly should have an extra jumper on standby for next Christmas. A black one, obviously.” *** Severus waited until Potter took his usual seat beside him at the Head Table to test his theory. His theory that he could make Potter’s face blush from a compliment instead of flushed with anger. He never thought he could achieve such a thing until recently when he began to notice sharp and interested eyes tracking his hands, watching his lips, glazing over at the oddest moments. Physical proof that Potter was not as unaffected by Severus as he presumed he would be. “Are your robes new?” Severus asked Potter casually. Potter’s hand twitched as he poured his tea, nearly spilling it on the table. “Er…” he glanced down at the same teaching robes he typically wore during the week. “No?” “No?” Severus hummed. “They look nice, Potter. Three points to Gryffindor.” Potter stiffened and turned a surprised look toward Severus before he slowly smiled- a shy and uncertain smile at this new territory. And truly, it was unknown territory to Severus as well. He was unsure when Potter’s name started to be spewed in jests and banter as opposed to rage and annoyance, but he suspected it was around the same time that Potter stood before the Wizengamot and praised Severus as a hero instead of a villain. Severus had been prickly, sneering that he didn’t require the boys’ defense, but Potter looked at him in a way that made Severus feel as if Potter were the first person to ever truly see him, and smiled and said that they were even then. Severus guarded Potter’s life, Potter guarded Severus’ freedom. The fact that Potter had grown to look more of himself than either of his deceased parents certainly hadn’t hurt matters at all, either. “Thanks,” Potter said with an appealing blush to his cheeks. Severus nodded and returned to the paper he had been reading. Theory tested, theory proven. He made the first move, it was up to Potter to decide how the game went from there. *** Harry was wandering the empty corridors that night, sleep eluding him. Technically, he was ‘patrolling’, but since it wasn’t his scheduled night, he preferred to think of it as haunting. Harry loved Hogwarts at night. He always had, truthfully. He loved the way the magic seemed stronger, the walls seemed sturdier, and possibilities seemed endless. Harry breathed in the magic and exhaled his problems. It really was a gift that Minerva offered him the job. He had joined the aurors before his eighteenth birthday and quickly, and easily, passed the qualifying tests to skip training and get ‘right in the thick of it’ and he had hated it. Resented it. He’d been exhausted. Emotional. Miserable. ‘Full of repressed trauma’ according to Hermione. Then Minerva showed up at the ministry one day last summer, the day after Harry’s twenty-first birthday, with a request for lunch and gave Harry a brand new future in a simple offer: “You look unhappy,” she had said simply before they were even served their tea and soup. “Come to Hogwarts on August 15th and I’ll get you squared away as the new defense professor.” Harry returned to the ministry and immediately resigned. He’d been at Hogwarts by August 7th with boxes of belongings and the beginnings of peace in his mind. And now, with only a couple weeks left until term ended, Harry wondered what he would do over summer break. He worried that his students would do poorly on exams and Minerva would revoke his position. He was stressed that— “Potter?“ Harry turned from the window he’d been sightlessly staring out directly into the curious face of Snape. “Evening,” Harry said with a joyful smile creeping up on his face. Snape was actually, surprisingly, one of Harry’s favorite parts of Hogwarts. Well, this new version of Snape who was just as snarky and witty as always but without the purposefully barbed insults. There wasn’t any more mention of Harry’s parents— though still plenty of quips about Harry’s lack of intelligence. Harry wasn’t sure when he started to see them as harmless quips rather than rude jabs, but he suspected it was around the time that he began to see Snape as attractive rather than annoying. “Wandering the corridors past curfew again?” Snape clicked his tongue as he silently moved to stand beside Harry in the alcove overlooking the grounds. “You never learn, do you?“ Harry chuckled and watched the moonlight sparkle on the black lake. “You know me, Severus, dim as a doorknob.” “Hmm, and yet bright enough to have his OWL and NEWT students earn one of the highest pass rates in the last ten years at Hogwarts.” “What?” Harry’s head turned from the lake to Snape so quickly that he felt a muscle twinge in protest. “How- who- really?” Snape smirked and the shadows from the night made the expression look even more appealing than usual. “I have a friend who on the examination board,” he said. “Congratulations, Potter, it seems as if you are not as incompetent a professor as you were student.” “This is great!” Harry was smiling so hard it ached. “So then Minerva can’t even fire me! I can come back again next year!” Snape gave Harry a peculiar look. “Did you believe that was an option?” “If my students all failed? Yeah,” Harry shrugged. “And here I was worried about what I was going to do next year and all I have to worry about is summer!” “Potter. Minerva sought you out to personally offer you the job, she would not fire you for your first year of teaching resulting in low scores.” Harry shrugged again. “Moot point now.” “And you are quite welcome to remain in the castle over the summer, if you wish,” Snape said. “Not many professors do, but a few of us choose to stay here.” Harry knew that wandering the corridors at night would eventually be a good choice. ”Severus,” Harry stressed his name in a pointed reminder that he asked the stubborn man to call him Harry, “are you saying that not only can I stay in Hogwarts for the summer, but that you’ll be here to spend time with if I do?” Snape didn’t stiffen or look surprised or any of the other reactions he used to have to Harry’s clumsy flirting. He just took a small step closer to Harry and turned toward him slightly, causing them to be so close that Harry could lean up and kiss him if he thought it would be reciprocated. “I believe that was the implication, Mister Potter,” he said in a silky murmur. He stared into Harry’s eyes for a long moment and Harry’s breath caught in his throat as he thought that perhaps Snape would be the one to dip his head down. Instead though, Snape just smirked slowly and broke the silent tension as he abruptly turned and walked away. “Goodnight, Potter,” he called. Harry’s brain was trying to catch up to the abrupt dismissal and he blurted the first thing he could think of, “Twenty points to Slytherin.” Snape’s dark chuckle kept a smile firmly on Harry’s face all the way to his quarters. His quarters that he could keep as long as he wanted. *** On September first, Minerva stood before the students with a small smile for them all. “Before we begin the feast, I would like to announce a small change to our staff this year.” Whispers immediately broke out as the students took note of the two professors missing from the head table. “I am pleased to inform you that Professor’s Snape and Potter will no longer be teaching potions and defense, instead—” “I told you we were late, Severus,” Harry hissed as he stumbled quite clumsily through the doors. He immediately drew himself up short and blushed furiously at the curious faces all turned towards him. “And I told you, Harry, that we should have skipped the feast altogether,” Severus said as he stepped up beside Harry and silently dared the students to comment on their lateness. Minerva raised a pointed brow at Harry’s messed up hair and Severus’ crooked tie. “As I was saying,” she said, drawing the students’ attention back to her while her professors moved quickly to their seats, “Professor’s Snape and Potter will no longer be teaching potions and defense. Instead, I am pleased to inform you that Professor Severus Snape-Potter will be teaching potions and Professor Harry Snape-Potter will be teaching defense against the dark arts.” The hall was silent for a minute as Severus sighed and Harry puffed up proudly. Then, just as Minerva anticipated, there was a standing, screaming, roaring applause from every student, ghost, and professor within the hall. And whether that was joy for the two men for finding love, as Minerva felt for them, or happiness that they all no longer had to witness Severus and Harry dancing around each other, she was unsure. Minerva clapped for her boys and waited until the students quieted down enough for her to be heard as she had one last announcement. “In order to keep the point system from decimating into chaos as it did last year, Professors Snape-Potter will not be allowed to dock points from each other’s houses.” She gave the students a serious and steely look for a moment, “They will be substituting detention instead, you would do well to avoid earning yourself one.” Minerva nearly sat back down when she remembered one last announcement. “Whoever had their money on the two of them getting together on the last day of term should report to my office before classes tomorrow for your betting winnings of two hundred and seven galleons, eighteen sickles, and three knuts.”