A Peculiar Saturday

A Peculiar Saturday

Severus glanced at the wall on the mantle again. He didn’t really know why he should care that in thirty minutes, his two best friends would be having lunch together. Well, he did know why he cared. He loved Hermione, and Lucius didn’t exactly have a history of being a decent human being. But while he felt a pang of jealousy and loneliness, he still stood by his decision to let her go. It wasn’t that he thought she deserved better than him, it was that he thought she deserved anything or anyone she wanted, and he wanted to make sure she knew what that was.

She’d only ever been with him after the war, and he’d be damned if ten years from now she’d start resenting him because she’d never had a chance to experience life outside of his dungeons. When he’d mentioned it to her, however, she’d responded in kind. She’d said that if he was going to push her out of the nest, she was pushing him out as well. She pointed out that she’d been the first person he’d been in a relationship with outside of his obsession with Lily Potter, and she’d be damned if in ten years he was going to buy a red sports car and get a nineteen-year-old mistress because he hadn’t experienced life. He didn’t think she really believed he’d do that, but she had a valid point.

Glancing at his potions stores, he began to make notes on what he needed to pick up from the Apothecary in Diagon Alley. Besides, Fortescue’s had re-opened under a new owner, a guy called Mike. Might as well go out and get something done while Lucius and Hermione were frolicking in Muggle London.

Lucius in Muggle London, he snickered to himself. His thoughts turned briefly to his two-year relationship with Hermione. It had been tumultuous, to say the least. They’d battered and badgered each other until he was almost human and Hermione had become a confident woman who didn’t take any flak from anyone. It was a catharsis, of sorts, for both of them, and Lucius had probably bitten off more than he could chew. Laughing to himself, he took off to Diagon Alley and the new and improved Fortescue’s.

“Fudge swirl or strawberry… fudge swirl or strawberry… chubby hub – what? Hey, Mike, since when did you start offering Muggle American ice cream flavors?”

“Just a couple of weeks ago. Do you want to try this one? It’s got pretzels, fudge, and peanut butter.”

“That sounds interesting, yes.” Looking up just in time to see a flash of red, Severus suddenly found himself in a heap on the floor with a wiggling Weasley all over him. At least it was the female variety; he shuddered when he thought of Hermione’s threat regarding Percy.

“ACK! Professor Snape! Sorry, sorry, sorry.” She scrambled to get off of him, blushing furiously.

He clambered to his feet, and she began to dust him off; then she realized what she was doing and stopped.

“Professor Snape! Fancy running into you… er… I mean…” She looked him up and down and tried again. “You’re looking… um… healthy.”

Severus rolled his eyes.

“This can’t get any worse, can it?” she asked, eyes shut in mortification.

“I’m not sure I want to find out if it can,” he replied with a sigh.

“Can I buy you an ice cream to make up for my appalling behavior? Or, I know! Even better, you can come with me to Mum’s party!”

“How on earth could that be considered ‘better’?” he asked. His trademark sneer was almost there, out of habit, but was weak and ineffective, as evidenced by her response.

“Well, what were your plans for the afternoon?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

Thinking for a minute, Snape conceded.

“I suppose you have a point. But let me get a pint of this to bring; it’s some new Muggle flavor—your father will think it’s smashing. And I need to stop by the apothecary first and order some supplies, but I can have them sent straight to Hogwarts. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Will that be acceptable?”

A brief flicker of surprise crossed Ginny’s face when she realized he was actually saying yes, but she recovered.

“As long as we can stop in at Flourish and Botts; they have the newest edition of Advanced Theory of Magical Defense.”

She was, in turn, inordinately pleased at the look of shock that crossed his face.

“I’m not just a hot Quidditch star, you know.”

“Apparently. Speaking of which, why are you even home? Don’t the Harpies have an away game this weekend?” Severus paid for the ice cream, and they began walking towards Slug and Jiggers.

This time the look of shock on Ginny’s face stayed.

“Professor Snape, I didn’t know you followed professional Quidditch.”

“All Potions and no play makes for a very bored Severus.”

Ginny laughed at that.

“I imagine it does. And to answer your question, yes, the Harpies have an away game this weekend. But I’ve been suspended for two weeks for violating team rules. I reckoned I might as well come home and help the boys throw a surprise party for Mum’s birthday. I was picking up ice cream when I, um… ran into you.”

“What on earth did you violate?”

Ginny laughed and looped her arm in his. He stared at the linked arms, trying to fathom why she would do such at thing.

“Winslow Smythe’s jaw. He’s a sports journalist for the Prophet. He made a pass at me, and when I told him off for it, he said he could see why Harry hadn’t asked me to marry him yet. I clocked him with my broom.”

“I see.”

“Do you? The manager of the team didn’t and suspended me for two weeks. Apparently, it doesn’t help our publicity if we go around hitting sleazy journalists around the head.”

Ginny waited while Severus submitted his order to the apothecary clerk with the delivery instructions, and then they continued walking to the book shop.

As they entered the shop, Severus found himself rather confused about what had just happened. He’d been knocked over by a former student, she was being rather affectionate with him, and he’d just agreed to go with her to a party. At the Burrow, no less. I’ve lost my mind. Ogling unknown Muggles at the pub was one thing. Linked arm in arm with Ginny Weasley on the way to a party at the Burrow was quite another.

She paid for her book while he stood by the door, staring at nothing, trying to come up with a way to regain control of the situation. Wait a minute. I’m Severus Snape. Hot Quidditch stars do not desire my company unless it’s for nefarious purposes. Hmmm… I wonder what she would do if I returned the affection? Let’s find out how far she’s willing to take this prank.

A/N1: Special thanks to Silverdoe and Mazzy for the ice cream flavor contributions. Sorry for the delay. RL has a habit of interfering. Next chapter is in the works, though, so shouldn’t be long.