Fic: "Checkmate" for dreya_uberwald
Gift for: dreya_uberwald
Author: mugglegirl0908
Title: Checkmate
Pairings: Severus/Hermione and implied Ron/Luna
Rating: PG
Genre: Friendship with a small side of Angst (and Romance if you squint and stand on your head).
Summary: Hermione responds to an advertisement in the Daily Prophet and gets more than she bargained for.
Author’s Notes: Beta read by ginny_weasley31. Any remaining mistakes are mine alone. Dreya, I hope this is what you wanted and that you enjoy it! I wish it was longer, but this is what time and the Muse demanded. :)
Checkmate
Hermione lazily drummed her fingers on the sticky table as she perused through the job postings in the Daily Prophet.
“Anything good yet?” Harry asked as he took a sip from his coffee. They’d been sitting here for three hours. He was revising papers for one of the classes he taught at the Auror Academy whilst she looked for a new job.
“There just has to be something worthwhile in here. I can’t believe the only jobs open are sweeping floors at the Ministry or stocking shelves at Flourish and Blotts.” She turned the paper over to the next page of ads, determined to find something.
Finally, something caught her eye.
Wanted: Competent, intelligent witch or wizard with interest and experience in Defence and Potions. Must have scored at least an "E" in both Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T.s. Idiots need not apply. Pay is 75 Galleons a week.
Hermione’s eyes bulged. Seventy-five Galleons a week? That wasn’t the best paying job, but it would be enough to live on. She had scored an “E” in her Defence N.E.W.T.s and an “O” in her Potions N.E.W.T.s, not to mention she had spent the first summer after leaving school working at the Apothecary in Diagon Alley. Hagatha, the old witch who ran the shop, was sure to give her a decent reference, even if it was nearly five years ago.
Harry suddenly gave a little nervous cough and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, breaking Hermione from her thoughts. Hermione set the newspaper down, knowing that was Harry-speak for “I need to tell you something, but I really don’t want to.” She could guess what it was about.
“Look, Hermione. I need to tell you-”
“What’s he want now?”
“Whaa?”
“What does Ronald want now? I already told him we’re not getting back together. How many times do I have to tell him, Harry? It’s starting to-”
“Hermione, that’s not it. I just want to be the one to tell you… before you see it in the paper,” he said, tilting his head towards the table.
“Tell me what? See what in the paper?”
“Ron’s getting married.”
For what seemed like hours to Hermione, but was mere moments in reality, neither of the friends spoke a word. Hermione was having trouble processing this information. Even though they were no longer married and she told herself every day that she was over him, it still hurt. Had their marriage truly meant nothing to him? And what of all the times he’d begged her to take him back? Wasn’t it just six months ago when Ron cornered her at a ministry function Harry had forced her to attend and Ron had drunkenly pleaded for a reconciliation? Had he finally listened when she told him it was over?
“It’s only been two years. How can he already be getting married again? I couldn’t even think of getting remarried yet! How is he ready and I’m not? And anyway, who is it he’s supposedly met? I thought he was so busy working at the Magical Games and Sports Department.”
Harry again shifted in his seat and pointedly refused to meet Hermione’s eyes. He mumbled something incoherent, and Hermione asked him to repeat himself.
“Luna Lovegood,” he said more plainly.
Hermione promptly lost her appetite and told Harry she felt like going home. He kept apologising and asking her to stay, but she Apparated home as quickly as she could and promptly went to bed.
She didn’t cry at all. Oh, no. She never let herself cry over Ronald Weasley.
The next morning Hermione had recovered from her shock, and the numbness was replaced by two things: overwhelming curiosity to find out how and when this “thing” with Ron and Luna had started and anger. How dare he move on before her! She had dumped him. She was supposed to move on first, damn it!
Throwing her cloak on, she hurried out of her flat, slamming the door behind her.
Her day quickly progressed from bad to worse at work. Oh, how she hated this boring Ministry job. There was no research, no learning, no challenge… nothing, just mindless paperwork. She read even more now than when she had been in school, mostly out of fear of her brain rotting from lack of use.
She was kept so busy with the mindless work that it wasn’t until her lunch hour that she even remembered the ad in the newspaper. There weren’t any specifics given about the job, but it had to be better than this if it required advanced knowledge of both Defence and Potions. After eating the ham sandwich and crisps she’d brought for lunch, she wrote a short letter saying she would like to learn more about the position and could start right away if necessary. She looked the letter over several times to make sure it sounded just right, and then tied it to the leg of a Ministry owl and instructed the bird to take it where the ad indicated.
Exactly two hours later, while she was taking a break, she received a response.
Ms. Granger,
I see that you found that the Weasley name could only take you so far in life and have once again resorted back to your Muggle roots. Perhaps you think that your status as Potter’s friend, instead of Weasley’s wife will help you in your career pursuits.
Well, it won’t here.
I am not interested in hiring know-it-all brats who think they are entitled to whatever they want simply because they assisted in taking down one Dark wizard.
It is not necessary for you to interview for the position or send a resume.
SS
Why, of all the… That was completely uncalled for! Who did this “SS” think he was? She didn’t think anyone owed her anything, especially not for the defeat of Voldemort. That had all been Harry. The only “assistance” she and Ron had given was helping find the Horcruxes, and they weren’t even all that helpful with that!
After taking a few deep, calming breaths, Hermione relaxed and read the letter again. And again.
She couldn’t quite place it (though her mind was racing with possibilities), but some of the phrases and the overall tone seemed familiar. It almost seemed like the person knew her. How else could their apparent hatred be explained? A stranger couldn’t dislike her that much, could they?
Finally, it hit her. “SS” could only be one person.
Severus Snape.
Hermione took a deep breath and smoothed her robes down before tentatively knocking on the large, wooden door to the small, run-down house. She had been shocked when she first saw the house. She had never thought Professor Snape was rich, but she never imagined him living in a rather dilapidated house in a small mill town.
Suddenly, the door was swung open. A terse “What?” was all Professor Snape got out before simply staring at her with a perplexed look on his face. After a few moments, however, the look changed from perplexed to annoyed. “I thought I told you your services were not needed. I see you’re just as good at following directions as you were in school, girl.”
“May I come in, please?” Hermione said, trying to ignore his rudeness for now.
“No, you may not,” he said, shutting the door in her face.
Hermione stood there for a minute, contemplating her options. She had expected rudeness, but she still didn’t quite know how to react to this. Certainly, she wasn’t going to give up now. She’d put up with his disrespect and cruel remarks when she was a student because he was in authority over her and she was a young girl.
She wasn’t a little girl anymore, though, he wasn’t her superior, and she wasn’t going to just take it this time.
Aiming her wand at the door, she said “Alohamora!” She smirked when the door came right open. She hadn’t actually expected it to work on the first try. She had expected him to take more precautions than that.
Calmly, she walked into the small house and shut the door softly behind her. She took deep breaths to calm her nerves.
He was sitting at a small writing desk in the corner, staring intently at a parchment, his face a scant few inches away from the paper. Hermione began to say something, but before her mouth could form the words, he let out an exasperated sigh and said, “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter my house. You are lucky I didn’t hex you the moment you barged in that door. I suggest you leave now.”
“I didn’t ‘barge in,’ and if you had actually listened to what I came to say I wouldn’t have had to.”
“You’re wasting your time, and mine, Mrs Weasley - excuse me, Ms Granger- and I believe I have asked you twice to leave my home. I suggest you heed my request before…”
“Is that all you can do? Threaten and attempt to intimidate me while mocking me for being divorced? It may have worked when I was a student, Professor, but I’m an adult now, and I came here to have an adult conversation. I did not appreciate what you said in your letter, and I’ve come for the apology I’m owed. I know you probably feel it’s beneath you to apologize, especially to annoying former students, but I assure you that it isn’t. Apologizing is part of being a decent, mature human being, and even if you aren’t one I expect you to act like it and treat me with respect.”
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Snape appeared to be at a loss for words.
“Are you serious? You actually came here because you felt you were owed an apology? Do you really expect to get one?” He seemed genuinely perplexed and curious.
“Yes, I do.” Hermione stood up straight and pushed her shoulders back.
His curious expression then lapsed into a bemused one. “Then I’m afraid you came all this way just to be disappointed.” With that, he turned back to the parchment he’d been hunched over when she entered.
Clenching her jaw, Hermione continued to stand where she was. There was no way she was giving up this easily. If there was one thing Hermione Granger was, it was stubborn.
Five minutes later, he let out another exasperated sigh and slammed the parchment down on his desk. “Why are you still here, you annoying girl?”
“Because you haven’t apologized like I asked. You also haven’t given me a chance to explain why I inquired about the job.”
“You’re still interested about that? Is that what this is about? You think by coming here and showing me how ‘grown-up’ you are that I’ll reconsider?”
“That was my hope, yes, but regardless I want that apology.”
He shook his head. “As obstinate as ever. Do you honestly think we could tolerate working together? You’d be my subordinate again, you realize.”
“Yes, I do realize that. I think it could work, though. Of course, I still don’t really know any details about the job, but it sounds quite interesting. What exactly is the position for?”
“I have been making a living for the last several years making potions of a… delicate nature for several shops in London. The orders have become so large that I now need assistance in completing them.”
“Why did you mention Defence Against the Dark Arts in the ad, then? It sounds like it’s all potion-making.”
“It mostly is, but the shops also need expertise in handling various artefacts and determining what their properties are and such.”
“Oh, I see.” Hermione carefully pondered his words for a moment.
“Wait. Did you say the potions were of a ‘delicate’ nature? What does that mean? They aren’t illegal, are they?”
Snape smirked. “That depends on one’s definition of ‘illegal,’ Ms Granger, but I assure you I’m in no danger of being arrested.”
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. It actually sounded like quite the interesting job. Well, it would be positively thrilling compared to her current job, at least. It still wasn’t ideal, but it was a step closer to owning her own shop, which had been her private dream for a while now.
“I’ll take it,” she said.
Snape pursed his lips. “You can’t take what hasn’t been offered, Ms Granger.”
Hermione smiled. “I’ll take the job offer in lieu of an apology if an apology is too much to ask for.”
“No deal, Ms Granger. You are seriously trying my patience, girl.”
“Please quit calling me ‘girl.’ I’m an adult now, and I believe I asked you to treat me like one.”
“And I believe I asked you to leave, but you don’t seem inclined to listen to me.”
Hermione frowned. She wasn’t making progress. She hadn’t actually thought she would take the job when she arrived seeing as she really just wanted a chance to give him a piece of her mind, but now that she was here, the job did sound interesting. But how to get him to agree…
Hermione grinned like a Cheshire cat when the solution finally came to her. It wouldn’t be easy, but she was sure she could pull it off. Hopefully all the instruction Ron had tried to give her would finally pay off.
“We appear to be at in impasse. May I suggest something?”
“If it will lead to you getting out of my house, then yes, please do.”
“I challenge you to a game of chess. If you win, I’ll leave and never bother you again. If I win, you apologize for insulting me and you offer me the assistant job.”
A devilish look crossed Snape’s face. “That is agreeable, Ms Granger. I will retrieve the chess board from the main study.” He stood up and walked briskly into the other room.
Hermione took the opportunity of him being out of the room to look around. There were so many books! She began daydreaming about reading all of them, when the sound of the chessboard hitting the table in front of the small sofa caught her attention. Snape sat down on the sofa and gestured to a chair on the other side of the table.
“White goes first,” she said, nodding to him since he was sitting nearest the white pieces. He stared at the board for a moment, and then chose to move one of his pawns. Hermione did the same.
Two hours later they were still at it. Hermione nearly had his Queen cornered, and she felt if she could survive five more moves she would win. She knew Snape was thinking this too, as he seemed to be shifting in his seat quite a bit, all of a sudden. She smirked at the thought of making him nervous. Serves him right, she thought.
The smirk left her face, however, when Snape picked up his knight and moved it right in the path of her knight which she was going to use to overtake his Queen.
The smirk was now on his face.
Hermione screwed up her face in concentration, analyzing every angle of the board she could think of. There just had to be another way. She hated losing, and she really didn’t want to lose to Snape.
She smiled as the solution presented itself. She confidently made her move and, with as much condescension as she could muster, said, “Check.”
Snape became visibly agitated at this. She could tell he didn’t want to lose any more than she did. After he finally made his move, Hermione made hers. She was now only two moves away from winning.
When she finally overtook his Queen and said the words, “Checkmate,” she was rather surprised at Snape’s reaction. He abruptly stood up, screamed that she must have cheated, and demanded a rematch. Things became quite heated when Hermione refused.
“I will not let you work for me!”
“Oh, yes you will. And you’re going to apologize!”
“I will do no such things,” he said.
“Quit whinging like a child and follow through on your word! You agreed to apologize and offer me the job if I won. I won, now pay up.”
Then, Snape did something Hermione had not expected.
He sulked. Visibly sulked. He sat down on the sofa, slumped his shoulders, and crossed his arms. Hermione expected he might say something like, “It’s not fair!” and suck on his thumb! It was not attractive on a grown man.
“Are you going to sulk like a child or act like an adult?”
He glared daggers at her. “Don’t you dare treat me like a child!”
Hermione raised her eyebrow. “You don’t enjoy being treated like a child when you aren’t one? What a coincidence. Neither do I.”
If looks could kill, Hermione would have died on the spot that moment.
“Now then, I’d like to start first thing Monday morning. I don’t really care about giving a two week’s notice at my current job, and I don’t think my boss likes me anyway, so it won’t matter. Don’t worry, though, I won’t make you apologize to me right now. I think I’d prefer you write me a nice, long letter explaining why you’re sorry and promising to not insult me and be purposely hurtful again.” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “Well then, I’ll see you Monday morning.”
She headed for the door, and right before she walked out it, he called her name. She turned to look at him.
“I like to start at seven in the morning, and I require a cup of tea and a cheese danish from the bakery just down the street. Do not be late, and do not forget the tea and danish.”
Hermione nodded.
She grinned as she strolled down the street. She grinned as she Apparated home.
It was worth waiting for the apology from Severus Snape just to see the look on his face when she’d placed his King in checkmate. Hermione fell asleep that night with the grin still plastered on her face. She would remember this day for a very long time.
The End.
Author: mugglegirl0908
Title: Checkmate
Pairings: Severus/Hermione and implied Ron/Luna
Rating: PG
Genre: Friendship with a small side of Angst (and Romance if you squint and stand on your head).
Summary: Hermione responds to an advertisement in the Daily Prophet and gets more than she bargained for.
Author’s Notes: Beta read by ginny_weasley31. Any remaining mistakes are mine alone. Dreya, I hope this is what you wanted and that you enjoy it! I wish it was longer, but this is what time and the Muse demanded. :)
Checkmate
Hermione lazily drummed her fingers on the sticky table as she perused through the job postings in the Daily Prophet.
“Anything good yet?” Harry asked as he took a sip from his coffee. They’d been sitting here for three hours. He was revising papers for one of the classes he taught at the Auror Academy whilst she looked for a new job.
“There just has to be something worthwhile in here. I can’t believe the only jobs open are sweeping floors at the Ministry or stocking shelves at Flourish and Blotts.” She turned the paper over to the next page of ads, determined to find something.
Finally, something caught her eye.
Wanted: Competent, intelligent witch or wizard with interest and experience in Defence and Potions. Must have scored at least an "E" in both Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T.s. Idiots need not apply. Pay is 75 Galleons a week.
Hermione’s eyes bulged. Seventy-five Galleons a week? That wasn’t the best paying job, but it would be enough to live on. She had scored an “E” in her Defence N.E.W.T.s and an “O” in her Potions N.E.W.T.s, not to mention she had spent the first summer after leaving school working at the Apothecary in Diagon Alley. Hagatha, the old witch who ran the shop, was sure to give her a decent reference, even if it was nearly five years ago.
Harry suddenly gave a little nervous cough and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, breaking Hermione from her thoughts. Hermione set the newspaper down, knowing that was Harry-speak for “I need to tell you something, but I really don’t want to.” She could guess what it was about.
“Look, Hermione. I need to tell you-”
“What’s he want now?”
“Whaa?”
“What does Ronald want now? I already told him we’re not getting back together. How many times do I have to tell him, Harry? It’s starting to-”
“Hermione, that’s not it. I just want to be the one to tell you… before you see it in the paper,” he said, tilting his head towards the table.
“Tell me what? See what in the paper?”
“Ron’s getting married.”
For what seemed like hours to Hermione, but was mere moments in reality, neither of the friends spoke a word. Hermione was having trouble processing this information. Even though they were no longer married and she told herself every day that she was over him, it still hurt. Had their marriage truly meant nothing to him? And what of all the times he’d begged her to take him back? Wasn’t it just six months ago when Ron cornered her at a ministry function Harry had forced her to attend and Ron had drunkenly pleaded for a reconciliation? Had he finally listened when she told him it was over?
“It’s only been two years. How can he already be getting married again? I couldn’t even think of getting remarried yet! How is he ready and I’m not? And anyway, who is it he’s supposedly met? I thought he was so busy working at the Magical Games and Sports Department.”
Harry again shifted in his seat and pointedly refused to meet Hermione’s eyes. He mumbled something incoherent, and Hermione asked him to repeat himself.
“Luna Lovegood,” he said more plainly.
Hermione promptly lost her appetite and told Harry she felt like going home. He kept apologising and asking her to stay, but she Apparated home as quickly as she could and promptly went to bed.
She didn’t cry at all. Oh, no. She never let herself cry over Ronald Weasley.
The next morning Hermione had recovered from her shock, and the numbness was replaced by two things: overwhelming curiosity to find out how and when this “thing” with Ron and Luna had started and anger. How dare he move on before her! She had dumped him. She was supposed to move on first, damn it!
Throwing her cloak on, she hurried out of her flat, slamming the door behind her.
Her day quickly progressed from bad to worse at work. Oh, how she hated this boring Ministry job. There was no research, no learning, no challenge… nothing, just mindless paperwork. She read even more now than when she had been in school, mostly out of fear of her brain rotting from lack of use.
She was kept so busy with the mindless work that it wasn’t until her lunch hour that she even remembered the ad in the newspaper. There weren’t any specifics given about the job, but it had to be better than this if it required advanced knowledge of both Defence and Potions. After eating the ham sandwich and crisps she’d brought for lunch, she wrote a short letter saying she would like to learn more about the position and could start right away if necessary. She looked the letter over several times to make sure it sounded just right, and then tied it to the leg of a Ministry owl and instructed the bird to take it where the ad indicated.
Exactly two hours later, while she was taking a break, she received a response.
Ms. Granger,
I see that you found that the Weasley name could only take you so far in life and have once again resorted back to your Muggle roots. Perhaps you think that your status as Potter’s friend, instead of Weasley’s wife will help you in your career pursuits.
Well, it won’t here.
I am not interested in hiring know-it-all brats who think they are entitled to whatever they want simply because they assisted in taking down one Dark wizard.
It is not necessary for you to interview for the position or send a resume.
SS
Why, of all the… That was completely uncalled for! Who did this “SS” think he was? She didn’t think anyone owed her anything, especially not for the defeat of Voldemort. That had all been Harry. The only “assistance” she and Ron had given was helping find the Horcruxes, and they weren’t even all that helpful with that!
After taking a few deep, calming breaths, Hermione relaxed and read the letter again. And again.
She couldn’t quite place it (though her mind was racing with possibilities), but some of the phrases and the overall tone seemed familiar. It almost seemed like the person knew her. How else could their apparent hatred be explained? A stranger couldn’t dislike her that much, could they?
Finally, it hit her. “SS” could only be one person.
Severus Snape.
Hermione took a deep breath and smoothed her robes down before tentatively knocking on the large, wooden door to the small, run-down house. She had been shocked when she first saw the house. She had never thought Professor Snape was rich, but she never imagined him living in a rather dilapidated house in a small mill town.
Suddenly, the door was swung open. A terse “What?” was all Professor Snape got out before simply staring at her with a perplexed look on his face. After a few moments, however, the look changed from perplexed to annoyed. “I thought I told you your services were not needed. I see you’re just as good at following directions as you were in school, girl.”
“May I come in, please?” Hermione said, trying to ignore his rudeness for now.
“No, you may not,” he said, shutting the door in her face.
Hermione stood there for a minute, contemplating her options. She had expected rudeness, but she still didn’t quite know how to react to this. Certainly, she wasn’t going to give up now. She’d put up with his disrespect and cruel remarks when she was a student because he was in authority over her and she was a young girl.
She wasn’t a little girl anymore, though, he wasn’t her superior, and she wasn’t going to just take it this time.
Aiming her wand at the door, she said “Alohamora!” She smirked when the door came right open. She hadn’t actually expected it to work on the first try. She had expected him to take more precautions than that.
Calmly, she walked into the small house and shut the door softly behind her. She took deep breaths to calm her nerves.
He was sitting at a small writing desk in the corner, staring intently at a parchment, his face a scant few inches away from the paper. Hermione began to say something, but before her mouth could form the words, he let out an exasperated sigh and said, “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter my house. You are lucky I didn’t hex you the moment you barged in that door. I suggest you leave now.”
“I didn’t ‘barge in,’ and if you had actually listened to what I came to say I wouldn’t have had to.”
“You’re wasting your time, and mine, Mrs Weasley - excuse me, Ms Granger- and I believe I have asked you twice to leave my home. I suggest you heed my request before…”
“Is that all you can do? Threaten and attempt to intimidate me while mocking me for being divorced? It may have worked when I was a student, Professor, but I’m an adult now, and I came here to have an adult conversation. I did not appreciate what you said in your letter, and I’ve come for the apology I’m owed. I know you probably feel it’s beneath you to apologize, especially to annoying former students, but I assure you that it isn’t. Apologizing is part of being a decent, mature human being, and even if you aren’t one I expect you to act like it and treat me with respect.”
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Snape appeared to be at a loss for words.
“Are you serious? You actually came here because you felt you were owed an apology? Do you really expect to get one?” He seemed genuinely perplexed and curious.
“Yes, I do.” Hermione stood up straight and pushed her shoulders back.
His curious expression then lapsed into a bemused one. “Then I’m afraid you came all this way just to be disappointed.” With that, he turned back to the parchment he’d been hunched over when she entered.
Clenching her jaw, Hermione continued to stand where she was. There was no way she was giving up this easily. If there was one thing Hermione Granger was, it was stubborn.
Five minutes later, he let out another exasperated sigh and slammed the parchment down on his desk. “Why are you still here, you annoying girl?”
“Because you haven’t apologized like I asked. You also haven’t given me a chance to explain why I inquired about the job.”
“You’re still interested about that? Is that what this is about? You think by coming here and showing me how ‘grown-up’ you are that I’ll reconsider?”
“That was my hope, yes, but regardless I want that apology.”
He shook his head. “As obstinate as ever. Do you honestly think we could tolerate working together? You’d be my subordinate again, you realize.”
“Yes, I do realize that. I think it could work, though. Of course, I still don’t really know any details about the job, but it sounds quite interesting. What exactly is the position for?”
“I have been making a living for the last several years making potions of a… delicate nature for several shops in London. The orders have become so large that I now need assistance in completing them.”
“Why did you mention Defence Against the Dark Arts in the ad, then? It sounds like it’s all potion-making.”
“It mostly is, but the shops also need expertise in handling various artefacts and determining what their properties are and such.”
“Oh, I see.” Hermione carefully pondered his words for a moment.
“Wait. Did you say the potions were of a ‘delicate’ nature? What does that mean? They aren’t illegal, are they?”
Snape smirked. “That depends on one’s definition of ‘illegal,’ Ms Granger, but I assure you I’m in no danger of being arrested.”
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. It actually sounded like quite the interesting job. Well, it would be positively thrilling compared to her current job, at least. It still wasn’t ideal, but it was a step closer to owning her own shop, which had been her private dream for a while now.
“I’ll take it,” she said.
Snape pursed his lips. “You can’t take what hasn’t been offered, Ms Granger.”
Hermione smiled. “I’ll take the job offer in lieu of an apology if an apology is too much to ask for.”
“No deal, Ms Granger. You are seriously trying my patience, girl.”
“Please quit calling me ‘girl.’ I’m an adult now, and I believe I asked you to treat me like one.”
“And I believe I asked you to leave, but you don’t seem inclined to listen to me.”
Hermione frowned. She wasn’t making progress. She hadn’t actually thought she would take the job when she arrived seeing as she really just wanted a chance to give him a piece of her mind, but now that she was here, the job did sound interesting. But how to get him to agree…
Hermione grinned like a Cheshire cat when the solution finally came to her. It wouldn’t be easy, but she was sure she could pull it off. Hopefully all the instruction Ron had tried to give her would finally pay off.
“We appear to be at in impasse. May I suggest something?”
“If it will lead to you getting out of my house, then yes, please do.”
“I challenge you to a game of chess. If you win, I’ll leave and never bother you again. If I win, you apologize for insulting me and you offer me the assistant job.”
A devilish look crossed Snape’s face. “That is agreeable, Ms Granger. I will retrieve the chess board from the main study.” He stood up and walked briskly into the other room.
Hermione took the opportunity of him being out of the room to look around. There were so many books! She began daydreaming about reading all of them, when the sound of the chessboard hitting the table in front of the small sofa caught her attention. Snape sat down on the sofa and gestured to a chair on the other side of the table.
“White goes first,” she said, nodding to him since he was sitting nearest the white pieces. He stared at the board for a moment, and then chose to move one of his pawns. Hermione did the same.
Two hours later they were still at it. Hermione nearly had his Queen cornered, and she felt if she could survive five more moves she would win. She knew Snape was thinking this too, as he seemed to be shifting in his seat quite a bit, all of a sudden. She smirked at the thought of making him nervous. Serves him right, she thought.
The smirk left her face, however, when Snape picked up his knight and moved it right in the path of her knight which she was going to use to overtake his Queen.
The smirk was now on his face.
Hermione screwed up her face in concentration, analyzing every angle of the board she could think of. There just had to be another way. She hated losing, and she really didn’t want to lose to Snape.
She smiled as the solution presented itself. She confidently made her move and, with as much condescension as she could muster, said, “Check.”
Snape became visibly agitated at this. She could tell he didn’t want to lose any more than she did. After he finally made his move, Hermione made hers. She was now only two moves away from winning.
When she finally overtook his Queen and said the words, “Checkmate,” she was rather surprised at Snape’s reaction. He abruptly stood up, screamed that she must have cheated, and demanded a rematch. Things became quite heated when Hermione refused.
“I will not let you work for me!”
“Oh, yes you will. And you’re going to apologize!”
“I will do no such things,” he said.
“Quit whinging like a child and follow through on your word! You agreed to apologize and offer me the job if I won. I won, now pay up.”
Then, Snape did something Hermione had not expected.
He sulked. Visibly sulked. He sat down on the sofa, slumped his shoulders, and crossed his arms. Hermione expected he might say something like, “It’s not fair!” and suck on his thumb! It was not attractive on a grown man.
“Are you going to sulk like a child or act like an adult?”
He glared daggers at her. “Don’t you dare treat me like a child!”
Hermione raised her eyebrow. “You don’t enjoy being treated like a child when you aren’t one? What a coincidence. Neither do I.”
If looks could kill, Hermione would have died on the spot that moment.
“Now then, I’d like to start first thing Monday morning. I don’t really care about giving a two week’s notice at my current job, and I don’t think my boss likes me anyway, so it won’t matter. Don’t worry, though, I won’t make you apologize to me right now. I think I’d prefer you write me a nice, long letter explaining why you’re sorry and promising to not insult me and be purposely hurtful again.” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “Well then, I’ll see you Monday morning.”
She headed for the door, and right before she walked out it, he called her name. She turned to look at him.
“I like to start at seven in the morning, and I require a cup of tea and a cheese danish from the bakery just down the street. Do not be late, and do not forget the tea and danish.”
Hermione nodded.
She grinned as she strolled down the street. She grinned as she Apparated home.
It was worth waiting for the apology from Severus Snape just to see the look on his face when she’d placed his King in checkmate. Hermione fell asleep that night with the grin still plastered on her face. She would remember this day for a very long time.
The End.