1. Apathy 2. Daily Grind

A/N: Much love to Kizzy for her unending enthusiasm and cheerleading, and for sorting out my naughty commas.

To you, the reader. Please bear in mind that this story is very old, written at the beginning of my fan fiction experience. For this reason, it's not perfect and some of the chapters are short, therefore I have posted two each time. Thanks.

1. Apathy

Severus stared at Lulu. Her blonde curls were shaking around her head, and her scarlet lips wrapped themselves around various syllables of false enjoyment, giving the impression of an impending orgasm. She was bouncing around on the end of his cock with an enthusiasm that didn’t meet her eyes, her surgically-enhanced breasts hardly moving, their nipples like two cherries atop a pair of large, round iced buns.

And Severus really couldn’t be bothered.

‘Lulu…’ he sighed.

‘Yes, big boy?’ she purred.

‘Stop. And get off,’ he stated flatly.

‘You sure?’ Lulu dropped the pretence, and as she acknowledged his glare, she shrugged and clambered off him in an ungainly fashion.

Severus stood and fastened his fly. He opened up his leather money pouch and counted out 50 galleons, throwing them onto the bed.

‘For your trouble.’ He nodded at Lulu, whose eyes had brightened at the sight of his money.

‘But we didn’t finish up…’ she pouted. She liked her clients to leave satisfied and took pride in a job well done.

‘It wasn’t you, Lulu, it was me. I’m bored with whores, even talented ones such as yourself.’ He gave her a small, tight smile.

‘Pity.’ Lulu grinned. She had always enjoyed his visits; he could go for ages, and she was usually guaranteed at least one orgasm. It didn’t happen with many clients.

‘Indeed.’ Severus nodded. He didn’t understand it either. He just needed… something else.

Lulu sighed wistfully as he walked out of the room without even a backward glance. She knew she wouldn’t be seeing him again.

*****

Hermione closed her front door and sighed. She mentally counted in her head and realised with horror that she had just endured her nineteenth unsuccessful date. She smirked ruefully to herself. At least this one had been a bit different, although not in a good way.

The bad breath she had sort of expected. The poor dress sense, the boring conversation? She had suffered those before. His request for her to wear her school uniform on the next date? Now, that was a new thing. She took a deep breath and thanked Circe for the conveniently placed Apparition point in the ladies toilets, a useful escape route for a cornered witch.

Hermione lifted the magazine from her coffee table and read through the advert again. How false it all was. And how sad that she understood all the little abbreviations now without having to think about it.

WLTM = would like to meet.

GSOH = good sense of humour.

VGL = very good looking (Hermione had found this wasn’t always true).

She put a large red cross through the last circled entry. With despair she realised she had come to the end of the list, and her eyes lingered on the half-page advert she had been trying to avoid for the past month.

‘Valentine Passiflora’s Lonely Hearts Inc.,’ the headline read. The advert went on, in unnecessarily flowery terms, to say ‘If you’re not getting any, Get It Here.’

Hermione snorted. She had received plenty of offers of IT. Most of the dates she had been on had ended in offers of IT. She wanted more than just IT.

Not that she had ever had IT, but she didn’t just want IT.

She wanted the works. Love, passion, and IT. Not fumbling, rushing and IT.

She read through the advert again and took a deep sigh.

‘What the hell,’ she muttered.

2. Daily Grind

Hermione pushed open the door of the shop and walked through to the back, shrugging off her cloak and hanging it on the hook near the door of the lab. His cloak was already there as usual. He always started early on a Monday. Checking her hair was securely tied at the nape of her neck, Hermione pushed the door open and walked confidently into the room.

‘Good morning, sir,’ she said, smiling at Severus, who was sitting by his work bench perusing a particularly interesting article on prolonging the effects of bezoars by distilling the essence of the stones as an antidote for poisoning.

‘Miss Granger.’ He smiled a little and nodded at her.

Hermione walked to the corner of the room and took two mugs down from the shelf. She looked at them and smiled, remembering the look on his face when she had Transfigured them in her first week. She spooned coffee into the green Slytherin mug which bore the emblem of his house and put a peppermint tea bag into her own red and gold mug, resplendent with a roaring lion motif. She waved her wand and filled them with water, and another flick had them steaming hot. She lifted them and carried them over to where Severus was still reading, ready for their Monday morning discussion.

Initially, their meetings had been purely functional. Sort out their schedules to ensure all of their private clients received their orders on time and ensure that one of them was able to man the front of the shop each day for passing trade. However, over the past year or so, their discussions had been less about work and more to do with touching base again after the weekend.

It had become a ritual, and they had formed a camaraderie of sorts, talking about their shared love of potions and the research they would love to do if they had the time. Occasionally, they would attempt to do the crossword in the Wizard Times, a highbrow broadsheet that Severus insisted on buying but rarely read. In fact, for a long time Hermione had suspected he only bought the paper for the crossword, and she was thrilled when she had found a book full of them on the shelf in Flourish and Blotts. She had wrapped it for him as a birthday gift, and he had been touched, although he didn’t show it too much. She had also brought in Muggle cream cakes and insisted they took a proper break to celebrate. He had been too embarrassed to tell her he had actually forgotten it was his birthday.

‘Here you are, sir.’ Hermione handed him his coffee.

Severus took it without looking up and paused slightly, murmuring ‘Thank you,’ and bringing the hot liquid to his lips. Finally, after two sips and a shake of his head, he thrust the magazine towards her.

‘Tell me what you think of this.’ He looked at her, his eyes dark.

Hermione quickly scanned the article, and her eyes went wide as she reached the end.

‘You get a mention.’ She raised her eyes to his and saw the nerve jumping in his cheek.

‘I know. Without my permission or knowledge. It would appear I am to be a scapegoat for my use of bezoars,’ he grumbled.

‘Well, you did become famous for using them, sir. The normal wizarding community would never have realised how useful they were if it hadn’t been for you. More people would have died.’ Hermione’s logic was spot on as usual, and he gave a deep sigh.

‘I have grown quite tired of being famous. The perks were useful for a short time, but now, I just want an ordinary life. He looked at her, his face blank and emotionless.

Hermione laughed softly. ‘I think you would be bored with ordinary, sir.’

‘You’re probably right. I know I’m boring myself right now. I’ll do the morning shift out front if that’s okay with you. I have an appointment and need to leave early today.’

He stood and shook his robes around himself, taking his coffee with him.

‘No problem, sir.’ Hermione smiled at his disappearing form. She shook her head and giggled.

Severus Snape have an ordinary life? Never.