Snarry One Shots

Ten points to Gryffindor

Summary: Ever since Potter came on staff, Gryffindor keep winning points in the house cup- by a huge margin- and no one seems to be able to work out why

Ships: SeverusSnapexHarryPotter

All credit goes to showyourself on Ao3

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"Potter. Must you insist on wearing such unseemly apparel to breakfast?" Long fingers curled menacingly around a cup of black coffee, squeezing the life out of the offending vessel.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean Professor Snape. Do you mean my quidditch uniform?" Harry slumped down into an open seat, smiling brightly at the dour man.

"That is precisely what I meant." The professor sipped his coffee with an expression of disdain. One eyebrow raised in challenge, whilst his mouth appeared to be sucking on a lemon rather than the caffeine he needed to sustain him for another day of dunderheads in the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom.

"I don't see what the problem is. I am a quidditch instructor after all." Harry shot a glance across to Professor McGonagall in the Head's seat, rolling his eyes cheekily at the habitual conflict that was mealtime in the Great Hall nowadays.

"It is distracting to those of us who are here to eat, not witness you parade around half-dressed. I can barely stomach my breakfast."

"My apologies." Harry pulled over a large platter of sausages and bacon, and started piling food onto his plate, taking a hearty bite out of a particularly juicy Lincolnshire whilst staring down his colleague.

"Perhaps you might be more considerate of others when selecting your clothing." Snape flicked his cuffs back and set to dissecting his food, channelling his moral outrage onto the poor defenceless breakfast foods.

"I'll certainly bear that in mind when dressing in future," came the cheeky retort.

Snape clenched his fist and took a sharp inhale, clearly about to launch into another one of his legendary diatribes about the slipping standards of the modern wizarding world, no doubt led and instituted by the boy wonder.

McGonagall cleared her throat, and levelled each of them with a no-nonsense glare, reminding them of their location. "Please remember the meeting this morning. I'll see you in the staff room in five minutes." Snape huffed and swallowed the last harsh mouthful of his bitter morning brew, following the Headmistress out of the hall in a billow of black robes, leaving Harry to chuckle to himself at another successful morning baiting his colleague.

He reached the staff room just in time to grab a comfy armchair in the corner, with a direct sightline to Snape. Observing him from his corner, he noted very little had changed since his encounter with the snake, apart from the addition of a much higher collar to his robes. He was still the same cold, distant man he had been whilst Harry was at school, and the sharing of his memories had only magnified that. Barely a day would go by without some sharp remark on his appearance, or his Gryffindor nature, and no matter what Harry did to try to bridge the gap, Snape snapped back like a wounded animal, eviscerating Harry with whatever insult came to mind. After a few particularly trying weeks at the start of term, matters had settled enough that a sort of ceasefire had evolved, with only the occasional verbal skirmish to remind the staff of the ongoing hostilities.

"Welcome back everyone. I trust you all enjoyed your winter break. Now onto business. The matter of the house points is still to be resolved." Minerva had been, quite frankly, baffled for the last few weeks. Gryffindor had put on a quite convincing lead in the house cup, but it seemed disproportionate to the efforts of the students. "At present Hufflepuff has 63 points, Slytherin 86 points, Ravenclaw 93 points, and Gryffindor is now on 157. We have had the glasses checked for foul play, but Professor Flitwick has been unable to find any alteration to the charms. Most unusual of all was the twenty-point increase over the holidays, when there were no Gryffindor students residing in the castle."