A.N. - This was a plot bunny that came up and bit me in the butt and wouldn't let go until I'd written it! So, it's written and put out there for scrutiny...so please don't burn my little bunny! Meant to be humorous, obviously, and with a little bit of romance. I hope you enjoy it!


Slytherin Trophies

Hermione Granger-Snape stood in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, looking at her old Transfiguration professor with a look of shock on her face.

She turned towards McGonagall, trying to understand what was happening.

"He's…he's made it onto the Slytherin Quidditch team? But, but…but he's only a first year!"

McGonagall shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth, trying not to grin at the predicament. It was obvious that Hermione was more surprised by the fact that her son was more physically inclined than academically, than the fact that he was only a first year.

"Yes, but he has a natural aptitude. Horace has all but insisted that he be on the team, Mrs. Snape."

Hermione glared at her, but Minerva simply smiled back. It was too easy to push the young woman's buttons.

Finally, Hermione sat down in the chair in front of Minerva's desk.

"It's just…I don't see how this is possible. Neither Severus or I have ever played Quidditch, and I've made sure to keep Ron and Harry from mentioning it to him with the threat of ending their own Quidditch careers by breaking both of their' legs."

Minerva said nothing, taking a sip of tea from the cup in front of her.

Hermione sighed and gave the older woman a commiserating look.

"Well, I suppose if he's that good at it and he really wants to play…I guess it's alright."

Minerva grinned again, and then stood as Hermione stood, and walked her over to the fireplace, where the Floo powder waited to be used. Hermione was about to reach for a handful, when Minerva placed a hand on her arm.

"Hermione…you may want to talk to your husband about a few Slytherin Quidditch trophies that are in the Trophy Room because of him."

With that, she gave her a wink and watched in amusement as Hermione first looked then confused, and then turned red.

Quickly, and with what Minerva could see was furious determination, she watched as her previous student angrily grabbed a handful of Floo powder and yelled, "Spinner's End!" into the fire.

The Headmistress smiled to herself at what awaited Severus when his wife arrived home.


"Severus Tobias Snape, you have some explaining to do!"

Severus carefully came out of the kitchen, wondering what he had done to make his wife so angry as to use his middle name.

"Hermione?"

She stormed across the room, wandlessly Banishing the soot from her clothes, and he could see the flames in her eyes from where he stood in the doorway.

Suddenly, he found himself on the floor. He was slightly confused, but then realized that she had physically pushed him. She only forgot to use her wand when she was really angry, so he quickly wracked his brain, trying to figure out what could have happened that made her act this way and slowly stood up.

"Hermione, love…"

"Don't you 'love' me, Severus! Why the hell didn't you tell me that you used to play Quidditch?"

At this, he froze. And then she watched as his own visage filled with anger.

"Minerva…damn her!"

Hermione still glared at him, however, not in the least bothered by the fact that his friend had betrayed him. He quickly realized that he had to explain himself. Of course, he wouldn't have had to explain himself if Minerva had simply kept her mouth shut.

He simply said…

"It never came up."

She looked at him in shock, not quite believing the four words that he'd just spoken. "It never came up? That's your reason for not telling me that you used to play Quidditch?"

He rolled his eyes slightly and moved out of range, making sure to not enrage his wife any further. She had a fierce swat and he didn't want to encourage her to use it on him. He needed to find out what had happened during her meeting with the Headmistress.

Her hands were on her hips and her eyes were blazing…and damn him if he wasn't finding it erotic as hell.

He tamped down his visceral reaction and quickly asked the questions that he needed answers too.

"Hermione, before we get into this, why did Minerva ask you there in the first place? Perhaps if I knew that, I would understand your need to assault my person…"

He gave her a pointed look, raising an eyebrow, and she huffed in exasperation, crossing her arms in front of her, emphasizing a certain portion of her anatomy that had his eyes pleasantly wandering, but he knew that if she saw him ogling her when they were trying to have a serious conversation, he would be hexed in four different ways before he could blink.

"Minerva," she said, stressing on the woman's name, "Asked me to come to her office because, apparently, your son has made the Slytherin Quidditch team, as the Seeker."

She glared at him, clearly wanting an explanation for their son's behavior and he inwardly winced.

Yes, he would have to tell her.

"Hermione," he started, his voice reverting to his old professorial tone. "As I explain, you must promise not to interrupt me, is that clear?"

She nodded, and he began.

"My first time on a broom was miserable, all because I had been on a broom that James and Sirius had hexed. However, when I was on one that wasn't hexed I had a, let's just say, a natural ability?" He paused, and then continued.

"In my second year, I tried out for the team and was slightly surprised when I got the position of Seeker. However, I took advantage of it."

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a slight grin, and then pressed forward. "I took advantage of it, and for the first time in my life, I made friends. Lucius was captain of the team during my first year, and the Keeper, and he encouraged me…and for once, I was better at something than James was…"

At this, Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise, not quite believing the last part of what he said, and he quickly explained.

"Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but if you had paid attention, you would have noticed that Sirius had never talked about the number of Quidditch games that they'd won…"

He gave her another look with a raised eyebrow and watched in amusement as her body posture relaxed and her mouth formed a small 'oh' of surprise, and he nodded in response to her silent epiphany.

"Yes, I was good at Quidditch, and I did it for three years, until…" He paused. "Until I joined with certain people."

At this, his wife's eyes softened and her posture relaxed.

He watched in relief as she stepped forward and slipped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his shoulder. He gently slid his arms around her shoulders, giving her a soft squeeze, knowing that she was simply having her usual reaction.

But then, suddenly, she pulled back and swatted him on his shoulder with one hand.

"Why didn't you tell me before, you big idiot?"

He realized that he could not win, so he simply shrugged his shoulders and gave her a look.

"I didn't think that it was relevant to anything. Besides," he added. "I know you don't like Quidditch, so I wasn't going to force it on you."

At this, her gaze softened again and a faint smile crossed her lips.

His wife then shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes, the faint smile stretching into a huge grin. "Severus Snape…you are too good for me, you maddening, maddening man!" And with that, she stepped forward again and gave him a quick hug, pulling back once more.

He merely shrugged his shoulders, unsure of how to react to her ever-changing mood.

She gave him a faint smile and then asked, "So, you won them the trophy three years in a row?"

He nodded.

"Yes…but you're the best trophy I've ever won."

She turned slightly red at this comment, and he briefly wished he could see exactly how far down her blush went, but he quickly tossed that thought to the side.

Finally, he said,

"Patrick made Seeker, did he?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, he did, and in his first year. According to what McGonagall told me, Horace has insisted that he needs to be on the team, which makes me think he must be good."

Severus nodded in agreement with his wife's assessment.

"Yes, you're probably right…Horace would only want the best." He gave her a look, arching his eyebrow, and she smiled.

"So, I expect Patrick's going to need a broom," mused Severus out loud, and Hermione nodded. He thought a moment longer, and then grinned. "I'll go ahead and send him a Flashfyre, then…"

At this, her eyes widened and she looked at her husband in shock.

"But…but Severus, they're not even officially on the market until the Spring!"

He grinned. "I know someone in the business who owes me a favor…a previous student of mine, actually…"

She shook her head.

"You know too many people, Severus…and how many people do you know that don't owe you a favor? Hmmm? Can you give me that number? Because I have a feeling that it will be significantly less than people that do."

His sly smile didn't leave his face as he replied,

"One."

She looked at him, her brow furrowing in confusion and he gave her another look.

"That's you, love."

Hermione then began to blush furiously, ducking her eyes, but he would have none of it, and swept down and captured her lips in a thoroughly searching and scorching kiss, not giving her a chance to catch her breath.

In the next moment, he had Apparated them both to their bedroom.

His voice was filled with promise as he laid the both of them on the sheets and whispered into her ear, "But would you like to owe me a favor…?"

There wasn't much talking after that.


THE END