Hermione sighed as she finished her test. She had deliberately omitted key concepts on two of the questions and misspelled the names of ingredients in two more. Surely that was enough to let that horrible ferret earn the highest mark. She still couldn’t believe that he had insisted that she do poorly on a test, but in retrospect she supposed that it made as much sense as anything else. As he had said, what else could she offer? It’s not like he needed tutoring, or money, and he wouldn’t be seen dead in her company, so…And she needed the book back. She couldn’t bear to see Snape’s expression if she had to confess that she had lost it. He had trusted her, and she had failed him. She should never have taken the book to class with her. She might just as easily have spilled something on it or damaged it some other way, though she still thought that Malfoy’s snatching it out of her bag was hard to blame on her.

She knew Harry and Ron didn’t understand. They thought she was more worried about what Snape would do to her for losing the book. While she wasn’t looking forward to her punishment – and McGonagall’s reaction had deeply unsettled her – she wasn’t nearly as worried as the boys thought she should be. She honestly didn’t believe he would whack her, despite what he did to Harry. Harry had a special relationship with Snape, but she knew her parents would never consent to his smacking her. And as scary as the professor was, she just couldn’t imagine him losing control of himself to the point where he would belt her without permission.

In truth, she’d rather he would just haul off and wallop her. No matter how bad it was – and from Harry’s descriptions, she had a pretty good idea of how awful a spanking from Snape could be – she’d rather avoid sitting down for a week than lose her access to his wonderful library, not to mention the surprisingly cozy ambience that had developed among the four of them.

Snape remained formal and acerbic, but while he might make scathing remarks about their logic or intellect, he only did so when the comments were deserved. He wasn’t condescending or patronizing, nor did he fob them off with lemon drops and evasive answers. If he wouldn’t discuss a topic, he simply said so, and that was that. He acted… not like they were adults exactly, but definitely not as if they were little children either. He assumed they had brains and treated them accordingly – though he could be downright cutting if he thought they weren’t using those wits appropriately.

Hermione knew that being excluded from this intellectual salon would hurt much worse than any physical punishment could. Which was why she was about to hand in the worst test paper of her life.

She pulled herself together and turned in the parchment. Snape didn’t so much as glance at her as she dropped it on top of the pile on his desk.

When the last student had finished, Snape ordered them to get out their cauldrons and brew a sample of Headache Reliever, commenting that he would likely need to exhaust his own supply while grading their papers. Draco caught Hermione’s eye, and she nodded at him, then colored angrily at his gloating smile. Git!

Draco fought down a feeling of guilt. What was wrong with him? So the mudblood would lose a few points. What difference would it really make to her? Besides, why should a Malfoy care what happened to one of the lesser species?

As the class period drew to a close, Snape finished marking the test papers. Having already dispatched Neville to Madame Pomfrey for a nasty cut on his thumb, caused by picking up dragonscales without protective gloves, he was able to skip over the lowest grade in the class. He called the other students up to his desk, one at a time, to return each one’s corrected paper along with a caustic comment. “Crabbe, your paper is proof that idiocy is limitless… Thomas, should you ever expect to pass this course, you might consider studying – or prayer… Nott, your work is not quite as bad as your usual standard… Weasley, the next time you confuse salamander eyes with toad eyes, I will have you taste test each one to teach you the difference… Potter, if you spent half the time you waste studying quidditch plays on your Potions homework, you might be a passable brewer…” Then he was at the last two names: “Malfoy and Granger, come here.”

Harry and Ron smiled at Hermione. Once again, she was at the top of the class! But her returning smile was awfully weak.

She stopped in front of Snape’s desk, shoulder to shoulder with Malfoy. Snape looked at them both. “I have here your papers. You two were the least idiotic of the students and received the top two grades.” Draco and Hermione exchanged a sidelong glance of mutual antipathy. “However,” Snape went on silkily, “I am not recording either of them.” And with that, he tore their tests in two.

The class gasped in shock, and Hermione and Draco’s jaws dropped. “What! You can’t do –“ Draco started to yell, but the look on his godfather’s face stopped him cold.

“I will not tolerate cheating in my class. The rest of you are dismissed. You two, remain behind.”

Harry and Ron lingered, frantic with worry for Hermione. Goyle and Crabbe also hung back, less out of concern for Draco than because without his guidance, they were unsure what class they had next.

Snape sent all of them fleeing with a few well-chosen words, then turned his attention to the two students still standing before his desk. “Well?” he demanded icily.

“I didn’t cheat!” Draco exclaimed hotly.

“How can you say that, Professor?” Hermione demanded. “You know I know the material! Go ahead and ask me a question.”

“Yeah!” Draco agreed. “Or if you think we’ve got notes hidden somewhere, have us change seats.”

“I did not suggest that you cheated to increase your grade, Miss Granger, but deliberately doing less than your best is nevertheless cheating,” Snape said sternly.

Hermione gulped. How had he known? Under his cold, glittering gaze, she felt her courage dwindle. “I – I –“ she stammered, trying to think of something to say. Where was her alleged intelligence now? She was stuttering like an idiot. But then, she heard McGonagall’s voice in her head, that cool chastisement about lacking courage and sense, and she knew what she had to do. There was no point in accusing Draco – Snape would never believe her over him, and she had no doubt but that the Slytherin would disavow any involvement in the scheme – but she needed to confess. She would make Snape even angrier, but that was better than waiting and having to infuriate him all over again later. “I’m sorry, Professor, but I lost your book. I – I was just distracted, I guess.” Without looking, she could tell that Draco was dumbfounded by her failure to implicate him, but she didn’t want to give Snape any additional excuse to deduct points from her. Everyone knew that accusing a Slytherin of anything without indisputable proof of their guilt was completely counter-productive.

Snape reached behind his desk. “I believe you are referring to this book?”

Hermione nearly swooned in relief. “You found it!” A huge smile spread across her face, then a thought visibly struck her and she spun on Draco. “You mean you didn’t have it?” she demanded. “You were going to let me go ahead and ruin my grades for nothing?” she screeched.

Draco saw the look in her eye and ducked, but he was unable to avoid the punch entirely.

“Miss Granger!” Snape yanked her back as she moved to pursue Draco around the professor’s desk.

She halted, realizing that socking Snape’s godson in front of him was foolish in the extreme, but too furious to care very much. “That sneaky ferret! That bas-“

The silencing spell hit her before she could finish the word, and then Snape was leaning over, nose to nose, glaring directly into her eyes. She gulped, her rage abruptly draining away. “One more syllable, Miss Granger, and it would have been a mouth soaping spell, not a silencing spell. Do we understand each other?”

She nodded jerkily, her anger replaced by apprehension.

“Sit down.”

With the girl taken care of for the moment, Snape turned his attention to Draco. His godson was nursing his jaw and pouting. “She hit me! The mu- Granger hit me! You saw her!”

Snape assessed the injury with cool, careful fingers. It would leave a mark, but there was no serious damage. “Can you move your jaw?” Draco tried and nodded. “Can you speak?”

“Yes.” Draco threw a nasty glare to where Hermione sat, mute.

“Then perhaps you can explain why a house elf found this book tossed aside in the boys’ lavatory off the Slytherin Common Room?”

Draco froze. That idiot Goyle! He should have known better than to leave it with that poor excuse for a primate. “Uh…”

“Were you unaware the book belonged to me?”

Draco fidgeted uneasily. He was all too aware that Snape might be unable to swat Granger, but no such restrictions applied to his person. He also knew that however angry his godfather might be now, being lied to would make him absolutely livid and virtually guarantee Draco a walloping. Snape obviously knew a lot already; better to confess all and hope for leniency than try to brazen it out and be caught in a lie.

“I didn’t know it was your book when I took it, but later Granger told me it was yours,” he admitted. He could see the Gryffindor’s look of shock at his swift confession, but he knew from painful experience that underestimating his godfather was a bad idea.

“And you took it in the first place because…?”

Draco colored and tried not to look at Hermione. The last thing he wanted to do was admit this in front of someone else, let alone Hermione Granger the insufferable know-it-all, perfect student, pride of Gryffindor, but he couldn’t bear to have his godfather think he was just being a prat. Or worse, that he had planned to blackmail Granger all along. “I thought it was unfair that she was using the book to do better than me in Transfigurations,” he admitted, almost inaudibly.

Snape’s fingers caught him beneath his chin and lifted. Black eyes met gray, and Draco swallowed hard. “Father has been very unhappy with my grades. I didn’t want Granger to get an edge in class. That was all I wanted at first, so I just took the book. But then when she came and asked for the book back, I figured I might as well go ahead and make sure I did better than her.”

“Even though you had gotten rid of the book?”

He shrugged dejectedly. “She didn’t know that. I figured I could screw up her grade in your class at least before she found out I didn’t have it. I thought she might be so angry, she’d mess up in Transfigurations as well.”

“So the two of you colluded. Miss Granger was to deliberately underperform, and you were, in consequence, to enjoy an undeservedly high mark.” Both students squirmed. When you put it like that, it really did sound unfair.

“Sit,” he pushed Draco into the chair next to Hermione. “Are you in control of yourself?” he asked Hermione sternly, and at her nod of acquiescence, cancelled the silencing spell.

Snape seated himself at his desk and regarded the two over his steepled fingers. They glanced at each other then quickly looked away. Soon both found it safest to stare fixedly at the floor. After what seemed an eternity, Snape spoke. “Very well. You will be punished for your attempts to cheat in my class and Professor McGonagall’s.”

“Sir, will – will you be telling Professor McGonagall about this?” Granger asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” At his blunt reply, she flinched and returned her gaze to her shoes.

“First, you will both sit my re-test on Saturday morning. You can expect it to be harder in content and for me to grade it more harshly.” They winced, but nodded. “I will suggest to Professor McGonagall that you spend Sunday afternoon cleaning her classroom as a way of making amends for even considering engaging in such duplicitous behavior in her class.”

“Yes, sir,” both mumbled unhappily.

“Now, since you both appear to take for granted your position as leaders of the class, you will spend the next two weeks tutoring the less fortunate. I think Vincent Crabbe should provide an acceptable challenge.”

To his surprise, Hermione looked up at that. “But, Professor, Neville has the worst grades in your class. If we’re to tutor anyone, it should be him.”

“What’s the matter, Granger? Don’t want to associate with a Slytherin?” Draco taunted.

“Fair’s fair, Malfoy,” she snapped back. “If we’re supposed to help someone, we should help the person who’s worst off.”

“I suspect Mr Longbottom is beyond mortal aid, Miss Granger,” Snape said drily. “I would not have you expend your efforts futilely.”

“At least Neville gets top grades in Herbology,” Hermione’s eyes flashed. “What does Crabbe excel at?”

“Your point being?”

“Neville is smarter than Vincent. Why assume the smarter of the two is ‘beyond mortal aid’?”

Snape reluctantly admitted to himself that the know-it-all had a point. And besides, punishment was supposed to be painful. “Very well, you will tutor both Mr Longbottom and Mr Crabbe.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hermione said primly, shooting a triumphant look at Draco.

Draco rolled his eyes. Like it mattered? They could tutor those two until they were blue in the face and it wouldn’t make a difference. Crabbe was a moron and Longbottom was a quivering mess. Snape was dreaming if he thought they could produce a miracle.

“You will, of course, tutor Mr Crabbe, Miss Granger,” Snape continued, ignoring Hermione’s gasp of dismay. “And Mr Malfoy will be responsible for Mr Longbottom.” Draco groaned.

“But sir,” Hermione protested, “shouldn’t we each work with the student that we have the better rapport with? Crabbe will listen to Malfoy much more than he’ll listen to me, and Neville –“

“Miss Granger, this is a punishment. I am not having you sit around and chat with your fellow Gryffindor about how much he hates potions. The assignments stand. Any more arguments out of you and you will write 200 lines of ‘I will accept my punishments with good grace.’” He paused challengingly, but Hermione bit her lip and kept silent. Draco smothered a grin.

“Of course, I expect your tutoring to work an improvement on both students,” Snape went on. He was pleased to note Draco frowning. “If they don’t improve by the next exam, it will be your backsides that will pay the penalty.”

Both students’ eyes widened fearfully.

“…Metaphorically speaking.”

Relief was obvious on two faces.

“…For Miss Granger.”

Snape fought to control his twitching lips. This was great fun. It was like flipping a switch: dismay, relief, dismay… Now Draco looked dejected, Hermione apprehensive.

“For you, Miss Granger, your continued access to my library is at stake.”

Draco was startled by Hermione’s moan of horror. “Oh, please, Professor. Can’t you swat me too?” she begged, as Draco stared at her with utter incredulity.

“It would hardly be an effective punishment if you were permitted to choose it, Miss Granger,” Snape replied austerely, ruthlessly suppressing his hysterics at Draco’s expression. “And what did I say about no arguments?”

She paled and ducked her head. “Sorry, sir.”

“So, to be clear: you will have Saturday detention with me for your retest. Sunday detention with Professor McGonagall cleaning her classroom. Then two weeks of tutoring sessions with Messrs Crabbe and Longbottom. Failure to document an improvement in their performance will lead to a spanking for Mr Malfoy and banishment from my library for Miss Granger. Oh – and one more thing.” Both students looked up, dazed. “For you to avoid punishment, both students must improve.”

Hermione started to speak, then clapped a hand to her mouth. Draco had no such compunctions. “You mean if I manage to pull off a miracle and improve Longbottom’s grades, but Granger can’t do the same with Crabbe and she loses her library privileges, I still get hit?” he demanded incredulously.

“Precisely. And if Miss Granger succeeds with Mr Crabbe but you fail with Mr Longbottom, then not only will you be punished, but Miss Granger will as well,” Snape agreed.

“That’s not fair!” Draco yelled. Hermione was still managing to keep quiet, but it was clear that for once she heartily agreed with Draco.

“Life is not fair,” Snape said calmly. “You got into trouble together; you will need to get out of it together. It would behoove you to set aside your animosity and strive towards a common goal, or you will find yourselves even more acutely miserable.”

From the look on their faces, they obviously considered that outcome inevitable.

“Dismissed. Miss Granger, you may deliver your 200 lines to me on Saturday.”

Hermione flinched. She had hoped he hadn’t considered her earlier pleading an “argument”, but obviously Snape wasn’t in the mood to show any mercy. She muttered, “Yes, Professor.”

“And Mr Malfoy, on the same day I will expect you to turn in 200 lines of ‘Stealing from others is both disgraceful and despicable’.”

Draco threw him a smoldering glare, but nodded his reluctant acquiescence.

As the two hurried from the classroom, Snape stroked his chin pensively. This was either going to turn out brilliantly or be a complete disaster, and at the moment, he couldn’t tell which it would be. 

“I hope you’re happy,” Draco spat at Hermione as they left the dungeons.

“Me?” she demanded furiously. “You’re the one who started all this by taking my book!”

“No, you started it by trying to cheat with that extra book.”

“That wasn’t cheating! And if you wanted to see the book, why didn’t you just ask me? It’s not like I could have said no – the book belongs to your godfather!”

“How was I supposed to know that?” Draco shot back.

“You could have asked!”

“Right – like that was going to happen. Stupid mudblood.”

“Arrogant arse!”

“Cow!”

“Snake!”

“Lion!”

“Wait. That’s not an insult,” Hermione argued.

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Well, neither is ‘snake’.”

“Look, this is stupid,” she said in exasperation. “Professor Snape’s right. We’d better work together or you’re going to get smacked and I’m going to get thrown out of his library.”

“Oh, boo hoo, Granger. You’ll just have to make do with all the zillions of other books around here.”

“What are you complaining about? So your backside is sore for – what? A day? Snape’s library will be off limits to me for a lot longer than that!”

“Oh, yeah, that’s easy for you to say. I bet you haven’t been so much as tapped on the bum in your whole life, Granger. Try living my life for a while and see how you like it.”

Something Draco had said to Snape occurred to Granger. “Wait – you said your father punishes you if you’re not top of the class. You don’t mean he hits you for that, do you?”

Draco turned a fiery red. “Shut it, Granger. It’s none of your business.”

“But that’s awful, Draco!” Hermione couldn’t help it. She felt sympathy for the Slytherin. No wonder he had wanted her to throw the test.

“I don’t need a mudblood’s pity!” Draco snarled.

“It’s not pity, stupid,” she snapped back. “But why didn’t you say something?”

“Oh, right, because then you’d let me beat you on all the tests, huh? All because you’re such a kind hearted mudblood?”

She frowned. “No – especially not after what Professor Snape just said. But there’s got to be a way around it. And don’t call me ‘mudblood’.”

Despite himself, Draco felt a prickling of gratitude. After everything he’d done, Granger was still willing to help him?

“There’s nothing you can do, mud- Granger. Stop being stupid.”

“Look, we’re the two smartest people in our grade, if not the whole school. Are you telling me we can’t think of something?” Hermione raised an eyebrow challengingly, and despite his best efforts, Draco felt a smile curling his lips.

“Like what?” He couldn’t stop himself asking the question.

“Well, what if there were some prize? Like for scholastic excellence? Would that make your father happy?”

“Sure. And if I didn’t win it, it would make him very unhappy.  Are you trying to get me killed?” he demanded.

“I bet if we asked Professor Snape, he’d suggest it to the Headmaster,” Hermione mused. “We’ll just have to craft it so that you’re sure to get it. I know – if it includes sports performance as well as academic standing, you’d win. You play Quidditch, and I don’t.”

Draco stopped and stared at her. “Are you serious, mu- Granger? You’d really help me win an award?”

“Look, Malfoy, I’m not going to be able to enjoy beating your performance in all our classes if every time I get a higher score than you, I have to worry about something awful happening to you. And I don’t like people being treated badly.”

“So what do you want in return?” he asked suspiciously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Noth-“ Then a thought struck her and she visibly changed her mind. “Hmmm. Draco, how do you feel about the emancipation of house elves?”