Oktoberfest
Title: Oktoberfest
Team Name: The Order
Word Count: 6*100
Rating: PG (just cut because it's lengthy)
Challenge: Oktoberfest!
“But, Headmistress…” he spluttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
There was a guffaw from behind him, and he refused to even look at Albus, who was taking far too much pleasure in this entire situation.
“Why ever not, Severus? After all, I had a great time in Germany last year. And the students would be kept carefully separate from the staff party.”
“And, my dear boy, you always hated the balls so much, why wouldn’t you want a change?”
“But, beer? Muggle beer? German clothes? It’s worse than your fancy dress, Albus!”
There was another guffaw.
***
“I can’t believe you’re getting away with this,” Snape muttered as he hoisted a keg of beer onto a table. As if it hadn’t been humiliating enough to have her promoted over him - “We can’t have you, old chap, even though we might want to. The Prophet would have a field day - and have her populate the castle with her old cronies, he now had to suffer the ignominy of… Oktoberfest. What sort of idea was it, anyway? And the stupid spelling of the word. Who thought that was amusing?
“Will you just lighten up? For once? It’s Oktoberfest!”
***
“Okay, we’re done! Thank you for helping, Severus.”
“It’s not like I had any choice,” he grumbled. Hermione grinned at him and ignored his complaining.
“Would you like a beer? You can have some before anyone else in return for helping.”
A glare. “Very well. Let me try this Muggle abomination.”
“It’s not an abomination!” She handed him a beer, which he took a swig of. He gagged and choked. “Too strong?” she asked lightly, taking a long gulp from her own, drinking almost a third of it. Severus glared again.
“Abomination,” he muttered as he took another tentative swig.
***
The Golden Trio were giggling in a corner over their beer. Sometimes, their presence was almost enough to make him wish that he had died when Nagini had bitten him. But, no, of course, Hermione Granger, know-it-all, had had to sweep in and ‘save’ the day. And then he became her pet project. She’d brought him chicken soup in St. Mungo’s. As if they didn’t have house-elves there!
“Severus!”
Oh, Merlin, she saw me looking.
“Severus, you must come and try this brew that Harry brought!”
Just take the path of least resistance. Just comply.
Reluctantly, Severus crossed the room.
***
“Merlin, that must have been strong stuff.” Hermione flopped down into a chair and giggled. Although she had made a show of being able to tolerate the beer better than him at the beginning, she was now quite tipsy. Severus allowed himself a small smile.
“Shall I escort you back to your quarters? I think that the house-elves will be able to manage the rest of this.” Severus had been of the opinion that they could manage all of the cleaning up, but the Headmistress had insisted on them doing some themselves.
“Oh, no, I’m-” She slipped off the chair.
***
“Here we are.” Severus muttered the password and helped her through the portrait-hole. “I shall leave you here,” he said after a few steps.
Hermione gave him a strange look. “You know, for an old guy, you’re not all that bad looking.”
Severus’ heart felt like it had just grown two sizes, but he feigned coolness. “That is not quite a compliment, Headmistress.”
“You’re not that old. Besides, I like old.”
“That, too, is not a compliment.”
“Shush. Come inside.” Her small hand slipped into his, and to his own surprise, Severus found himself being led into the Headmistress’ quarters.