Unlucky

Disclaimer: Not mine. Hopefully, you would notice the subtle differences in syntax and style so as not to confuse my spectacular writing with a best-selling author. But, if you don't I guess I could say I'm flattered and hope that you don't sue me or something.

Chapter Twenty-One: Unlucky

-~-

Severus was restless. And why was he restless? He couldn't fucking well tell someone if it were stamped on his forehead (he didn't like mirrors all that much). The first emotion that he could possibly pin down was self-loathing, although that unfortunate sentiment was always lurking somewhere in his subconscious. Then, there was probably anger. Yes, that made sense. He'd been angry all week. And it was his fault... leading back to that previously mentioned self-loathing. He cared for a young woman very much like him, who was now strolling around the castle with her new best friend like they'd been two peas in a pod since birth. Oh, sod all those nasty little insults the boy had thrown at her over the past several years! He'd been kidding! Just a little joke! A little laugh! Ha ha. Ha.

Merlin, was she so desperate for a friend that she would disregard every fault of the boy?

Stuff it, Sev, his conscience hissed. You did the same when the first Malfoy befriended you. You forgot all the vitriol he'd spat at you. You pretended that he wanted your 'friendship' for you and not for your usefulness as a slithering snake.

Hmm, another emotion: jealousy.

"Fuck!" The percussive word bounced off the burgundy walls of his sitting room, and he put down his brandy with a loud clink. Unfolding himself from his favourite armchair, he began to pace... again. "This damned carpet will need replacing, old man, if you keep wearing a trough into it!" he muttered.

Stopping, he realized yet another familiar feeling. Frustration.

"Friday, the thirteenth of February. Lovely. It's the day before Valentine's, and I haven't had a proper shag in... what? Oh, holy shite!"

Aha! And so, more specifically: sexually frustrated. Horny, randy, whatever.

Without realizing what was happening, Severus found himself in front of his wardrobe, ripping his winter coat off the hanger and shoving his arms through the sleeves. He clumsily stuffed his green-and-silver-stockinged feet into his heavier dragon hide boots and found his gloves on the shelf with his scarf. Wrapping himself tightly in more green-and-silver-striped warmth, Severus used the corridor he only ever had used during his spy years to escape unnoticed from the oppressive confines of the castle.

Perhaps a trip to Knockturn Alley was prudent.

--

For Hermione, the week progressed in such a daze that she didn't even realize the coming of the weekend. It was Friday, and she was sitting in the library, scribbling furiously on a parchment for an essay in Arithmancy. She was halfway through her second body paragraph when Harry and Ginny plunked down across from her, startling her and causing a rather sizeable splotch to bleed across her quote from Arithmantics. She cursed loudly and looked up to glare at the offenders, but Harry caught her off guard with a charming smile.

"Well, the old Hermione is certainly back."

Ginny shook her head, grinning. "Sure is."

"What do you mean? I've always been Hermione! And I'll thank you to know that you ruined a rather excellent paragraph with your boisterousness. I need to get this finished so I can do my History homework," she nearly snarled at them when Harry chuckled in disbelief.

"Hermione, what day is it?"

"Honestly, does that have anything to do with what I just said?"

"Very much so," Ginny muttered under her breath to Harry, and he squeezed the redhead's hand, looking back at the brunette across the table.

"Answer the question, 'Mione."

"The thirteenth, Harry," she growled exasperatedly.

Ginny exclaimed, "Ooh! I didn't reali..."

"Yes, 'Mione," Harry ignored his girlfriend and added, "and it's a Friday, as well."

"Thanks, Harry." Hermione glared at him some more. "I'll try to stay away from ladders, mirrors, and black cats."

"Merlin, Hermione! It's a Friday!" Ginny laughed.

"As in, you-don't-have-classes-tomorrow-because-it's-the-weekend-Friday! Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and everyone is going to Hogsmeade. We were wondering if you'd come with us to the Three Broomsticks or something," Harry added.

"Right. And third-wheel with you two staring into one another's eyes as I clean my fingernails? No thanks."

"You won't be a third-wheel," Ginny smiled.

"Actually," Harry began cautiously, "we were wondering if you'd like to go with Neville."

"Wait. What!?"

"Just as friends!" Ginny interjected.

"Just. As. Friends."

"Ah... yep." Harry looked nervously to Ginny and then bit the side of his cheek.

"You're a terrible liar, Harry."

"No worse than you!" Harry whined.

"How do you know I didn't already have plans?" she asked him.

"What?" Ginny frowned.

"How. Did you know. That I didn't. Have a date. Already. Harry James Potter?"

"Well, I guess we just sort of assumed... Hell, Hermione, I'm sorry."

"Yes, well, I'm off to go find my date, then."

"Alright. You have fun, tomorrow. Can we meet up afterward?"

"If I have time," she said dismissively and stuffed her essay in her lightened bag, hoisting it up over her shoulder and striding swiftly out of the library. Once she reached the Entrance Hall, she stopped. "Shite," she said rather too loudly.

Now, to find a date.

What are you getting yourself into, Granger?

--

What are you getting yourself into, Snape?

Severus now stood in the middle of Knockturn Alley, his boots muddied with sludgy, soot black snow and his face turning in indecision from his right to his left.

Madame Ashwinder's? Portner's Pleasure Chest? Madame Ashwinder's? Portner's Pleasure Chest?

"Damn, damn, damn," he said in rapid succession, startling an old woman with a peg leg who was waddling past.

Well, he hadn't been to Madame Ashwinder's since he was twenty-two, but...

The old witch spotted his quandary and limped back toward him, halting on her wobbly leg as she peered with narrowed eyes into his face.

"May I help you?" Severus snapped.

"Let me make this easier for you," she began. "Disease... or slight embarrassment?

Severus merely growled and stalked toward Portner's Pleasure Chest and yanked the door open with a loud creak. He stood in the opening of the shop in hesitation until the same woman prodded him hard in the back.

"In or out, lad? Make up your damned mind."

She's going in the shop with me?! He nearly squealed as she gave him another poke under the ribs and strode quickly into the shop, scandalised at her behaviour as she took the spot behind the register.

"Was that some new form of marketing?"

"No. If men listened to reason as you did, then there'd be no trouble with all this aforesaid disease."

"And you'd receive much more business." Severus folded his arms.

"And I'd receive much more business. I know who you are, but do not hesitate to ask for anything. If I gave away identities like Madame Ashwinder's gives away wanks, well, then I'd have no business whatsoever!"

"... Too right. Well, I'll be... off... in, ah, that section, I think."

"Enjoy!" the woman croaked and busied with the register.

--

Hermione checked every possible nook and cranny that had ever associated itself with his name. Everywhere. Including the astronomy tower in a strange, backwards logic that told her that he was hiding from her in a place where no one would expect...the place where he had almost become a murderer.

Of course, she had mentally kicked herself for thinking that he'd come anywhere within one hundred metres of that wretched spot and could now be found marching down to the dungeons at high speed.

When she finally reached the hallway...she knew where the Slytherins lived, but couldn't pinpoint exactly where the dormitory entrance was...she spotted Blaise and another boy exiting a deserted dungeon classroom a hundred paces away.

"Oh! Blaise! Wait up!"

The young man in question spun around rapidly, but then relaxed a fraction when he realized who it was. "Hi, Hermione," he called down the hall.

She was huffing and puffing when she reached the two who, unbeknownst to Hermione, were glancing sideways at one another and shifting their feet nervously.

"Oh, hello," Hermione breathed, turning to the Nott boy and holding out her hand. "I don't believe we've met properly."

"Right. This is Theo, Hermione. He and I are... classmates."

"You can call me Theodore," the wiry, brown-haired boy said quietly, grasping her hand briefly before returning his to his back pockets.

"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said and turned mainly to Blaise to ask him, "Have you...either of you...seen Draco around? I've been searching everywhere for him, and he's seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth."

"Not sure, Hermione."

"He's up on the lawn, supervising the ice-cream social," Nott muttered.

Hermione exclaimed a quick, "Oh, thank you, Theodore!" as simultaneously Blaise asked incredulously, "They're having an ice-cream social in February?"

But Hermione did not hear him because she was already halfway up the staircase by the time each boy grabbed the other's hand and slinked off to the deserted common room for some pre-Valentine's celebration.

--

"Excellent choice, Master Snape," the old woman chuckled when he put his chosen item on the counter. "'Bottled Bliss' products are quite something. That will be twenty-six galleons."

"What is the dosage that you recommend?"

"One is quite enough. Two at a time and you'll be in quite a pleasurable coma for a week or so."

"Interesting."

"Don't test it."

"Did I say I was going to?"

"Definitely not, but you got that look in your eye."

Severus chuckled. "It would be a nice way to die, wouldn't it?"

"Hmm. After the seventh fantasy, you'd be starved and to put it bluntly, you'd have nothing left to ejaculate." Severus made a face, and the old woman cackled. "Don't worry. One dose is only one dream. Take it at night."

"Yes, of course."

"And make sure to sound-proof your quarters. Wouldn't want to scare the students."

"Thanks," Severus growled sarcastically, although he was partially grateful...he might've forgotten to ward against such a thing. He then paid and got the hell out of Knockturn Alley, making sure he transfigured and shrunk the bag to look slightly less conspicuous.

It was nine o'clock when he returned to the castle, and he passed by the stupid ice cream social that had been organized by Professors Sprout and Vector. Young Malfoy was leaning against the treat-laden table and waved to him as he passed. At least he and Hermione weren't spending twenty-hour hours a day with one another. Hopefully, this would be a much more eventful night than he had had on past Valentine weekends.

--

"DRACO MALFOY! I have been searching everywhere for you!" Hermione exclaimed when she found him on the front lawn. He was leaning against the ice cream table in a brown, hip-length pea coat, long legs stretched out in front of him as he watched a group of third year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors in a lively snowball fight. He held a vanilla and chocolate swirled ice cream cone in his hand, and had been licking absentmindedly at it as he watched until she yelled his name. His eyes found her almost immediately as she jogged down the steps toward him, a small, questioning smile spreading across his features as she reached him.

"Granger, it's a bit cold out for a skirt and blouse, don't you think?" He smirked, and Hermione realized that school attire in February was probably less than appropriate. The evidence was probably easily seen across her chest.

Damn it! She swore in her head. "Well, it's a bit chilly for ice cream, too, isn't it?" she growled, wrapping her arms around her as she started to shiver.

"Yes, well, I am conveniently basking in the midst of a warming charm, whereas you... certainly are not."

Hermione stomped over to him and promptly poked him hard in the chest. "Well, then let me in!" she exclaimed, and he looked slightly taken aback. However, he unbuttoned his pea coat and uncrossed his legs so she could hug him round the middle. "Ahh. Much better," she mumbled into his sweater and looked up at Draco, who was gazing determinedly at the snowball fight, again. It became decidedly awkward when she realized what others might think were they to see the two enemies snuggling under one jacket. "It really is cold, Draco. I didn't mean..."

"Yes, it's fine, Granger; now what did you want?"

"They have you chaperoning, again?"

"Prefect duties, among other things. This is sort of a detention issued by Professor Vector."

"Oh, was this for disrupting Arithmancy yesterday?"

"No," he remarked, "but if it had been, it would have been your fault that I was out here." She chuckled sheepishly and shook her head. "Why were you so desperate to find me? Besides the fact that I'm so irresistible you can't spend more than several hours away from my side?"

Hermione laughed, only to become more serious when she said, "I need you to save me from a very unfortunate circumstance. So, I needed to ask you something before someone else did."

"Oh?"

"Are... are you busy tomorrow?"

Malfoy's eyes, which had been focused on the fight a few metres away, snapped to Hermione's and he frowned. "Er... I wasn't planning on being busy tomorrow. Why do you ask?"

"Well," she exhaled loudly, "it's a bit of a story, but I don't want to bore you, so I'll tell you that you are my only chance of avoiding some really awkward hours with Neville Longbottom."

If Hermione had been looking up at the time, she'd have seen his face fall slightly, then return to the same nonchalant expression of before. "So, I'm a scapegoat... for tomorrow... for Valentine's."

"In essence, yes."

"Gee, Granger, I feel so very loved." He grinned.

"Oh, no! Not that I wouldn't want to spend time with you...I should think we've become... friends, right?"

"... Yeah."

"So, Hogsmeade, then?"

"What time? I mean, yeah... what time do you want to meet in Hogsmeade?" He swallowed and his hands hovered around her waist before falling ungracefully to his sides again.

"I was thinking that we could ride together?"

"Alright. I'll meet you in the entrance hall at eleven, yeah?"

Hermione nodded, smiling up at him. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "I told Ginny and Harry that I was going on a date with someone so I wouldn't have to go with Neville..."

"So, essentially, I'm your date."

"Essentially. But really, just friends! I swear! I'm so stupid, Draco... and sorry for asking you this. You can say no. Really." She backed out of his warm embrace and clasped her hands together, hoping that he wouldn't say no.

"Hermione, I'd have said no if I didn't want to go," Draco said seriously.

She blushed. "Oh... well, thank you!"

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." He smirked.

"Yeah, tomorrow." She smiled and then walked swiftly back to the castle and the promised warmth of the Gryffindor common room.

A/N: I'm sure a lot of you are either banging your foreheads against the keyboard, biting nails, or pulling on your hair. I told ya it wouldn't be very fun... but Severus is still there in the background! And hopefully Hermione and he will be able to have another chat very soon. XD Anyway, I hope you got the hint that Portner's Pleasure Chest is a sex shoppe and Severus just bought a fantasy-inducing potion. If you didn't, well, now you know. Next chapter holds about a gallon of lemonade.

TO THOSE WHO HAVE PUT ME IN THE DOGHOUSE:

I'm trying to make this as realistic as possible with these two pairings and I apologize to those who can't stand Draco Malfoy. My Draco is a bit different from canon, however, because he undergoes a lot between the seventh book and this year. All will be explained in the next couple of chapters. As of right now, realistically, Hermione would not gravitate toward Severus romantically because she thinks her feelings for him were generated by her Epiphanoserum because she is utterly embarrassed by her behaviour in the past couple of months, and because he is a teacher...most people would brush away the possibilities of such an unbalanced relationship because it's so outlandish. Not that people haven't thought about it... LoL.

Read and review, please please please!