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Chapter Text

It all started with a minor disagreement.

"Professor Granger, your students are a disaster waiting to happen," Severus Snape drawled, arms crossed as he loomed over Hermione's desk in her classroom. "They have no discipline. No attention to detail. And, Merlin forbid, they smile while brewing."

Hermione, who had been marking essays, raised an eyebrow. "Well, perhaps if someone wasn't so terrifying, they wouldn't be so nervous in your class. Fear does little for precision, Severus."

Snape scoffed. "Fear is an excellent motivator."

"Not when it results in melted cauldrons."

"Your fourth years transfigured my lab stools into dancing armadillos. Dancing armadillos, Granger."

"It was an accident!" Hermione said, barely containing her laughter. "They were supposed to turn into cushions."

Snape gave her a flat look. "If they were meant to be cushions, why did they perform synchronized ballet?"

And that was how it started. A full-fledged prank war that soon engulfed all of Hogwarts.

The first shot was fired the very next morning. Hermione took her usual seat at the High Table, reached for her tea, took a sip...

And immediately, her voice turned high-pitched and squeaky.

The entire Great Hall froze. Then, like a dam breaking, laughter erupted from every corner.

"Blimey, Professor Granger! You sound like a house-elf!" a Hufflepuff called out.

Even Minerva choked on her porridge.  Hermione cleared her throat—only for it to come out as a squeak.

Across the table, Snape smirked over his own tea.

That git.

By lunch, her voice had returned to normal. But by dinner, the entire castle knew what had happened.

And Hermione never forgot. 

When Hermione stormed into Malfoy Manor that evening, she found Draco lounging on the sofa, lazily flipping through the Daily Prophet with the air of a man who had spent the day not being publicly humiliated.

“I assume by the way you just kicked open the door that something tragic has happened,” he drawled, not even looking up.

“Snape hexed my tea.”

Draco turned a page. “Oh? And?”

she threw her bag onto a chair with a dramatic thud. “And I squeaked like a bloody house-elf in front of the entire school!”

he immediately dropped the paper. His gray eyes sparkled with amusement, and Hermione regretted everything.

“Oh, brilliant.” He smirked, sitting up. “Did you at least say ‘Bad Hermione must punish herself’?”

she grabbed a cushion and hurled it at his head. He dodged effortlessly, still grinning.

“Seriously, Granger, you’ve been a professor for years now. How did you fall for that?”

“I don’t expect my colleagues to booby-trap my tea, Draco.”

Draco leaned back, absolutely delighted. “You should. Snape’s been terrorizing students for decades. What made you think you were safe?”

Hermione crossed her arms. “I thought we had professional mutual respect.”

He actually laughed. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s adorable.”

She scowled. “You do realize this means war?”

Draco exhaled in appreciation, like a wine critic sampling a fine vintage. “You know, I always said Snape was a genius.”

Hermione grabbed another cushion.

“But obviously you’re the real genius in this house, and I completely support you,” Draco corrected immediately, hands up in surrender.

She huffed. “Damn right.”

But as she sat down, rubbing her temples, she sighed. “Honestly, I should’ve expected it. He did tell me last week I was getting ‘too comfortable’ and needed to ‘remain vigilant.’”

Draco snorted. “Merlin, you two really are the same species.”

“Oh, shut it.”

Draco smirked. “No, really. This is exactly the kind of thing you’d pull on your own students if you thought it would teach them something.”

Hermione paused. “…Alright, maybe.”

He leaned closer. “Admit it. You admire him more now, don’t you?”

She hesitated. Then groaned. “Ugh, fine. It was kind of brilliant.”

Draco grinned, looking far too smug.

Hermione groaned. “And with the whole chair incident, I should’ve known he was waiting for his chance.”

Draco tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “Ah, yes. The dancing armadillos.”

She scowled. “They were meant to be cushions.”

“They were wearing tutus.”

“That was an accident!”

Draco snorted. “Granger, you transfigured his classroom furniture into a musical theatre troupe. Of course he was going to get revenge.”

Hermione gasped, deeply offended. “Excuse you, that was the fourth years! I wouldn’t have made a mistake like that in my first year.” then muttered something about vindictive bats in dungeons. 

He raised an eyebrow. “So what you’re saying is that your students are disasters waiting to happen.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I am not saying that.”

Draco smirked. “I seem to recall a certain professor complaining just last week that her students ‘lacked the fundamental understanding of how transfiguration interacts with organic material’ and ‘couldn’t turn a teacup into a tortoise without creating an abomination unfit for this world.’”

Hermione crossed her arms. “That was one time, and the tortoise is fine now.”

Draco grinned. “So you admit you have a horde of miniature chaos goblins under your tutelage?”

She groaned, dramatically collapsing against the armrest of the couch. “Why did I marry you?”

Draco smirked, leaning in. “Because I’m devilishly handsome, incredibly charming, and I know exactly how to help you plan revenge on our dear Severus. So, what’s the plan? Tit-for-tat? Or are you going full Gryffindor Reckless Chaos™?”

Hermione smirked. “Oh, Draco. I’m a professor now. I don’t do reckless.”

He gave her a knowing look.

“…Fine,” she amended. “Not excessively reckless.”

Draco chuckled. “Well, I’ll make sure to have a front-row seat.”

And as Hermione sat back, already scheming, Draco leaned in with a wicked smile.

“This is going to be legendary.”

The next morning, Snape found his entire wardrobe replaced with Gryffindor-red robes.

By the time he reached the Great Hall for breakfast, the entire school was waiting.

The moment he swept inside, scarlet robes billowing like a particularly aggressive sunset, there was a collective, stunned silence.

For exactly three seconds.

Then.

Chaos.

Peeves let out an earsplitting shriek of joy.

"OOOH, SNAPEY’S A LION NOW! GONNA ROAR FOR US, PROFESSOR?"

A second-year Gryffindor actually fainted.

A group of Hufflepuffs fell off their bench.

Ravenclaws were taking notes as if documenting a rare celestial event.

The Slytherins… the Slytherins looked as though they had personally been betrayed by Salazar himself.

Meanwhile, the ghosts drifted closer to observe.

The Bloody Baron narrowed his eyes.

Nearly Headless Nick clapped enthusiastically. “Finally embracing your inner lion, Professor? Good on you!”

Snape seethed.

But the worst part?

The absolute worst part?

The golden lion cubs embroidered on his robes,  they were moving.

One particularly cheeky cub looped around his collar, pawing at his high neckline as though trying to tame him.

And the students noticed.

"It’s… It’s playing with his hair."

"I think it’s trying to groom him."

"It’s… adorable."

Snape froze.

"NO."

He stormed up to the High Table, robes glowing brighter with every step, glaring death at the one responsible.

Hermione, sipping her tea with infuriating innocence, merely smiled.

"Fix. This." he hissed, sitting down stiffly as his robes shimmered gold.

Hermione gave him her sweetest smile. "Oh, I thought fear was an excellent motivator?"

Snape clenched his fists. His robes glittered like the crown jewels.

A lion cub winked.

The next day, Hermione entered her office to find all her quills enchanted to compose poetry about her.

Oh, brightest of witches,
With books piled high,
Yet still she was fooled,
By one clever guy.

Hermione blinked. Then, as if on cue, all the quills on her desk burst into song.

"Her knowledge is vast, her wit is so quick,"
"Yet Snape made her squeak like a frightened little chick!"

She gasped. GASPED.

"She lectures and scolds, she’s brilliant, it’s true,"
"But she didn’t check if her tea had been brewed!"

“SEVERUS!” Hermione shrieked, grabbing a quill, only for it to wriggle out of her hand like a charmed worm.

Outside the office, students stopped and listened in delight as the enchanted quills harmonized.

"Professor Granger, so clever and bright,"
"Yet she fell for a prank in the middle of night!"

Peeves appeared out of thin air, conducting.

By the time Draco stopped by to check on her, he found her attempting to drown the quills in an ink bottle while muttering very creative curses under her breath.

“Snape, I’m going to end you,” she hissed.

Draco took one look at her murderous expression, glanced at the singing quills, and smirked.

“Oh, this is the best day of my life.”

That night, as Snape was brewing in his private laboratory, the first notes of Celestina Warbeck’s Greatest Hits echoed off the dungeon walls.

"♪ YOU STUNNED ME WITH YOUR SPELL, DARLING! ♪"

Snape froze. His stirring hand twitched.

"♪ OH, HOW I FELL, DARLING! ♪"

His eye twitched.

When Harry stopped by later to debate a case with him, he found Snape sitting rigidly at his worktable, his cauldron happily bubbling away, while Celestina crooned about bewitching romance.

"...Do I even want to know?" Harry asked cautiously.

Snape just pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, "Granger."

That evening, Harry and Draco clinked their glasses together, laughter spilling from them as they talked about the ongoing prank war between Hermione and Snape.

By week two, the prank war had become legend.

The students started placing bets. Ravenclaws developed a complex scoring system. Slytherins were torn between loyalty to their Head of House and sheer admiration for Hermione’s ingenuity. Gryffindors openly cheered her on.

"Professor Granger, who’s winning?" a bold third-year Gryffindor asked.

"Winning?" Hermione said, flipping through her notes. "Oh, I don’t play to win, Mr. Smith. I play to annihilate."

Meanwhile, Peeves had declared himself "Official War Correspondent" and began providing exaggerated updates.

"DAY ELEVEN! SNAPE STILL CURSED BY MELODIOUS TUNES! GRANGER STILL ALIVE! NO CLEAR WINNER YET!"

Even the portraits got involved.

"I haven’t seen a feud this entertaining since the Bloody Baron and Sir Cadogan dueled over a goat!" one old wizard remarked.

It all came crashing down when Severus hexed Hermione’s office door to recite all of Hogwarts' rules when she entered.

All.

Of.

Them.

By the time she’d heard the rule against dueling in the bathrooms for the third time, she was done.

"You. Are. Dead, Snape."

He merely smirked. "Fear is an excellent motivator."

At breakfast, Hermione charmed Snape’s chair to sink the moment he sat.

It would have been fine if Peeves hadn't narrated it loudly.

"DOWN GOES SNAPEY! OH NO, PROFESSOR, DID YOUR CHAIR BETRAY YOU?"

The entire Great Hall roared with laughter.

And that’s when Minerva McGonagall slammed down her goblet.

"ENOUGH!"

Silence fell instantly. Even Peeves floated backward.

Minerva fixed Hermione and Snape with a look, the kind that made grown men quake in fear. "If I hear one more enchanted robe, one more singing cauldron, one more paper crane attacking a staff member, SO HELP ME, I will make you both teach first-years together for the next five years!"

Hermione gasped. Snape turned pale. The students collectively shuddered.

"Understood?" Minerva snapped.

They nodded in unison.

"Good." She took a sip of tea. "Now, Professor Snape, you appear to be sinking again."

Snape scowled. Hermione smirked.

The war was over.

Mostly.

A week after McGonagall had officially declared an end to the prank war, peace had mostly returned to Hogwarts. Students no longer placed bets, Peeves had stopped his dramatic war announcements, and Snape's robes remained their usual intimidating black.

But peace at Hogwarts was always… delicate.

One evening, as Hermione strolled past Snape’s classroom, she swore she heard something whispering behind her. She turned sharply, wand at the ready, but there was nothing there, until her own voice echoed softly from the walls:

"Professor Snape is remarkably handsome today."

Her eyes narrowed. She stepped into the doorway of his office, arms crossed.

Snape, seated at his desk, didn’t look up. “Something wrong, Professor?”

She tapped her foot. “I know what you did.”

“Do you?” He flipped a page in his book, utterly unbothered. “Fear is an excellent motivator.”

Hermione huffed but said nothing.

Because earlier that morning, she may have charmed his quills to write Potions is my passion, but Transfiguration is superior every time he used them.

Truce? Oh, certainly.

But some wars never really end.

Hermione still checked her tea.

Snape still inspected his robes.

Despite these events, they remained the best of friends—colleagues who supported each other in their roles at Hogwarts and partners in their potions business. Their friendship only grew stronger after the pranks, filled with laughter, shared secrets, and the occasional mischief that kept life interesting.

Chapter Text

The Official, Unbiased, Absolutely True Account of the Great Hogwarts Prank War

By Peeves the Magnificent, Most Trusted Source of Chaos and Misinformation

Once upon a time (two weeks ago), in the halls of Hogwarts, two professors entered into a battle of wits, magic, and highly questionable ethics.

On one side: Professor Snape,a man so terrifying that potions themselves quivered at his approach, who once scared a student into learning the entire syllabus just by looking at them.

On the other: Professor Granger-Malfoy,  the brightest witch of her age, who had defeated the Dark Lord, passed every N.E.W.T., and somehow married a Malfoy and lived to tell the tale.

Day One: The First Strike

Professor Snape, in an act of pure villainy, hexed Granger’s tea, turning her voice into that of a house-elf. Reports suggest she was last heard squeaking, "Fear is not a motivator!" before storming out of the Great Hall in a very undignified manner.

Day Two: The Betrayal of the Robes

In a moment of triumph, Professor Granger-Malfoy transfigured Snape’s robes into a Gryffindor-red masterpiece complete with golden, prancing lions. The entire Great Hall was forced to witness Professor Snape’s majestic (and extremely unwilling) entrance, described by students as "the single most important event in Hogwarts history since the Battle of Hogwarts."

Day Five: The Poetry Plague

Professor Snape charmed all of Granger’s quills to compose heartfelt poetry about Potions. Examples include:

"O cauldron dear, so round, so bright"
"Why must you explode at night?"

And the infamous:

"Professor Snape, so dark and tall,
One glare from him, we faint, we fall!"

Some say she cried. Others say she plotted revenge in Arithmancy class while Draco Malfoy sighed in the background.

Day Seven: The Celestina Warbeck Incident

Professor Granger-Malfoy retaliated by cursing Snape’s private laboratory to play Celestina Warbeck’s Greatest Hits on an unbreakable loop. Witnesses claim that students who wandered too close could hear Snape murmuring, “Granger… I will end you,” while aggressively stirring his cauldron to the beat of "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love."

Day Nine: The Student Uprising

Students from all four Houses declared Professor Granger the official war leader, while some Slytherins attempted to file a complaint with the Board of Governors on Snape’s behalf. The complaint was dismissed on the grounds that Snape absolutely deserved it.

Peeves, in his role as Official War Correspondent, attempted to interview both parties. Snape hexed him. Hermione almost gave an interview but was distracted when Draco Malfoy dramatically sighed in the background and muttered, "Why must you do this?"

Day Eleven: The Breaking Point

It is said that on the eleventh day, Professor Snape charmed Granger’s office door to recite all of Hogwarts’ rules aloud when she entered. Reports suggest she stood there for forty-three minutes, eyes twitching, before screaming and throwing a book at a perfectly innocent seventh-year.

The Final Battle: The Great Chair Betrayal

Granger’s revenge was swift and brutal. At breakfast, Snape’s chair betrayed him.

Witnesses report the following exchange:

1. Snape sits.

2. Chair slowly sinks.

3. Peeves narrates loudly.

4. Snape closes his eyes and contemplates his life choices.

The Great Hall erupted in chaos, laughter, and tears of joy. Minerva McGonagall slammed her goblet down and ended the war with the single most terrifying threat in Hogwarts history:

"IF THIS DOES NOT STOP, I WILL MAKE YOU TEACH FIRST-YEARS TOGETHER FOR THE NEXT FIVE YEARS."

The Aftermath: A Fragile Peace

While the war officially ended, small incidents have continued. Mysterious whispers about Snape’s "handsome features" have been heard in the dungeons. Hermione’s tea is still thoroughly inspected before drinking. And somewhere in the castle, Peeves is still cackling.

But the real winner?

Me.

Love,
Peeves the Magnificent.