3. What Are you Looking For. 4. Find My Love

3. What Are You Looking For?

Severus walked in long strides along the busy London street, clutching the small, rectangular piece of cardboard in his hand. He paused for a moment, checked the address, and looked up at the building in front of him. This was it. He took a deep breath, and before he could change his mind again, he stepped up to the door and rang the bell.

'Yes?' a disembodied voice came from somewhere.

Severus coughed slightly. 'I have an appointment.'

'Name?' said the voice.

Severus closed his eyes a little before looking around slowly. 'Snape,' he replied

'Right hand wall, second brick down. Two wand taps and a push,' the voice instructed.

Severus did as he was told and heard a soft 'hiss' as the double doors opened in front of him. He walked into a large, opulent entrance hall lit by the biggest crystal chandelier he had ever seen. The marble floor swept up to an equally impressive staircase, and he looked around himself uneasily. He hadn't been expecting this.

'What are you looking for?' A young, squeaky-voiced and very skinny witch sat behind the reception desk, her short, crimson hair tight to her head and her matching crimson glasses a little wonky on her nose.

Severus lifted the card from his pocket and handed it to her, avoiding her gaze as she pointedly looked him up and down.

'Lonely Hearts, second floor. Up the stairs, then take the lift...' She was still staring at him. 'Why on earth would this Adonis need a dating agency?' she thought to herself.

Severus smirked. Adonis? He puffed his chest out and looked down at her, his lips curling in a sneer.

'Thank you,' he drawled, his voice like smooth, dark chocolate, his tongue snaking out and running across his bottom lip a little.

The witch sucked in so much air she started to choke. Severus chuckled and walked towards the staircase as she whispered 'You're welcome' after him.

Ten minutes later and Severus was sat in front of Valentine Passiflora herself. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but it wasn't this.

'Call me Val,' she whispered hoarsely, her voice the result of a seventy a day habit. She had auburn hair and a rounded face. Her facial features were non-descript, but her eyes were smiley and bright and when her lips matched them, curling upwards, she wasn't at all unattractive. She was wearing an oddly shaped black dress, and although she was sitting behind her desk, Severus knew she wasn't very tall. He relaxed a little. Despite the luxurious office, there were no airs and graces here.

'Just a form to fill in first... Severus, is it?' She smiled a little at him and handed him a parchment and quill. 'Need to know what it is you think you want.... Then I will see what I've got.'

'How quickly... before the first date, I mean?' Severus took the parchment and quill from her, scanning it.

From somewhere deep inside her, Val let out a loud, deep and surprisingly fruity guffaw.

'You will only have one date. No one ever needs more than one. I know my job, Mr Snape.'

Severus raised his eyes at her. 'Very confident,' he murmured.

'No. Just a talented witch. I have Romany blood, Mr Snape, and my mother was a great Seer. All of the couples I have introduced have been soul mates. That's what I do. It does mean, however... you could be waiting a while. No guarantees your soul mate is also searching for you, you know. She could be shacked up already with a low life who doesn't appreciate her, not realising that here you are, ready and willing.' She smiled at him brightly.

'I'm not looking for sex,' he snapped at her. 'I can buy as much sex as one man could cope with.'

'I know.' Val looked at him appraisingly. 'I've seen enough lonely men in my time, Mr Snape. Sometime sex just isn't enough, is it?'

She stood and went to walk from her office. 'Do your form; I'll be right back.'

Severus had been right. She was short.

4. Find My Love

Hermione was waiting outside Val's office, having been told there was already a customer in there. She had closed the shop and ran home quickly to change. She wanted to make a good impression, and she didn't know if they would need photographs and such. She had emptied her bottle of Sleekeazy's hair potion, and her long locks were wavy and lustrous. She had pulled on her favourite black jeans and a pale pink blouse covered with tiny flowers, applied a little lip-gloss and a spray of perfume, and then ran back down the street to Apparate into the centre of town.

She lifted a magazine and flicked through it. It was Teenwitch, full of photographs of the latest Quidditch players posing shirtless and flexing their muscles and flashing cheesy grins to the camera. Hermione laughed and put it down again.

The door to Val's office opened, and Hermione looked up. The small lady was standing in the doorway, holding it open for her customer to leave. She saw Hermione sitting there and smiled at her.

'You're next, come on...' She waved her forward as the man left the room.

Severus looked at her in horror, his face burning with embarrassment. He turned to Val, his jaw clenched tightly.

'I suggest you consider the privacy of your clientele, Ms Passiflora.' he snapped at her. 'I have no wish to share my private life with my employee, and yet.... It would appear she now knows everything.'

He glared, first at Val and then at Hermione. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked down the corridor, and Hermione and Val stared after him in shock.

'Oh, gods. He will be insufferable tomorrow.' Hermione murmured.

Val looked at her sympathetically before patting her on her shoulder.

'Let's not think on it, my dear. Now, you're young and very pretty, so lets find you someone to share your life with.'

****

Hermione sat with her legs curled beneath her and re-read her copy of Valentine Passiflora's form. It consisted of a list of attributes she was looking for in her soul mate and ranged from 'Incredibly Handsome' to 'Useful around the house.' She ran through her checklist slowly.

'Intelligent' – This was imperative. She couldn't stand boring conversations.

'Kind / Selfless' – Hermione hated selfish people but admired compassion.

'Fun' – She liked to have a giggle now and then.

'Not too handsome but not butt-ugly' – Hermione didn't really mind about looks; she was no oil painting herself.

'Able to take control in the bedroom' – Hermione blushed but agreed she needed guidance. Her experience was limited to a fumble with Viktor and a quick roll with Ron, and he had come before she had taken her knickers off.

'Risk taker' – She needed someone who would keep her on her toes.

'Willing to commit' – Hermione still wanted the works, and she wasn't going to put out for less than love.

'Wants children' – Hermione wasn't broody yet, but she wanted the option for later.

She read through her list again and nodded before placing it on the coffee table.

Her mind drifted back to Severus, and she wondered how he was feeling. She had never considered his private life before; the subject had never come up. But he was obviously looking for love, the same as she was. Hermione felt bad for him; he had been so embarrassed. She pondered for a while. Should she pretend it hadn't happened? Or mention it and tell him not to be embarrassed? She shook her head and grabbed her glass of wine. She would worry about it in the morning.

****

Severus was drunk, his eyes unfocussed as he stared into his fireplace. He was contemplating not going into the shop tomorrow, but he had a complicated batch of potions to brew for St Mungo's that he couldn't put off.

Damn it. Why? All he wanted to was a little company, some pleasant conversation, and perhaps, if things went well, a longer term arrangement at the end of it. It had taken him ages to pluck up the courage to go for his appointment. He had cancelled two previously. Typical that he couldn't even do that in private and Granger was where she had no right to be.

Why had she been there, anyway? She was smart, intelligent, pretty (especially so when she had her hair loose, like today, he mused), and at times, she was a delightfully amusing witch. Why she was still single, he couldn't fathom.

He brooded on it a while longer until he fell asleep in his chair and started to snore.