For Arithmancy: Numerology Task Four: The Teacher: write about a socially awkward person being invited to attend a party.

Character: Severus Snape

He stared long and hard at the old, worn-out man before him, whose hands were clasped together on top of his long white beard. Hard onyx eyes stared into slightly twinkling blue eyes, his eyebrow twitching slightly.

"No."

Albus Dumbledore sighed. "Please, Severus. All of the staff and faculty will be joining in. It's been a hard war, but now that it has been won, we can all now celebrate."

His brow twitched again. "No," he deadpanned.

"Severus, my boy, this is the only thing I ask of you."

"Albus," the dark-haired man hissed venomously, "there is now way in Merlin I will be dragged to attend a party, where I will have to converse with bubbling idiots and insufferable staff members." He shook his head. "No, I will just enjoy my time here in my quarters as I do every time you host a party."

There was silence as the two men stared at each other long and hard before Albus sighed again, dejected. "All right, my boy," he told Severus. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

Then, the Headmaster turned and left the room, leaving one Potions Master to stare after him.

The next day at breakfast, Minerva McGonagall dipped her tea and said, "You know, Severus, everyone would be glad to have you at the celebratory party this Friday."

With an eyebrow twitch, he stabbed his fork into an egg and brought it to his mouth, eating it. He swallowed, then replied with, "If this is you trying to get me to attend that blasted party, I am sorry to inform you, Minerva, that that won't happen."

The woman sighed as she set her fork down. "Come, Severus, will you come for an hour?"

"No," the man snapped. "And that is final."

With that, he stood, pushed his chair in, the turned with a swish of his cloak.

Later that day, Pomona Sprout has somehow found where he was hiding in his potions lab in the dungeons. She had walked into the room, closed the door softly, then sat down quietly on a chair near his station. She watched him as he worked, mumbling to himself under his breath quietly.

"You know," she began, "if you didn't make potions so much, you're hair wouldn't be as greasy. Maybe you should put some type of ointment in it to stop if from getting greasy?"

"That would just mess with the potion itself," he murmured. "The grease is caused by the fumes, I thought you knew that, Pomona."

The older woman smiled. "Of course I know that, Severus, I'm just worried for your health. I may not be a mediwitch like Pomfrey, but I do know how the fumes of potions work." She rummaged through her pockets before taking out a small jar and setting it by his elbow on the table. "I made this back when I was school, to help keep my hair from getting greasy."

He looked at her from the corner of his eye as he stirred the potion again. Then he glanced down at the jar. "And it works?" he inquired.

The woman nodded. "I use it whenever I spend a couple of hours making potions that I need." She stood up, patted him on the arm gently, then smiled. "Let me know if you like it, alright, Severus, dear?"

The man just stared as she made her way to the door. She opened it, then stopped and turned to her. "Oh, and if you don't want to go to the party, you can always spend Friday night with me and my Hufflepuffs."

Then, while he stared at her shocked, she slipped out of the room.

Throughout the day, he had been thinking of what Albus, Minerva, and Pomona had said. A party wasn't his ideal way to spend a Friday, but he wouldn't know, would he? He never really went to a lot of parties or balls when he was younger, except for the ones at the Malfoys and the Yule Ball that Hogwarts had every year.

With a sigh, he thought back. Most of the students would be throwing parties for the defeat of the Dark Lord and his reign of terror from the shadows. Most of them would also be throwing parties because they needed to bring more cheer and merriment into the castle after the battle that had destroyed its great and wondrous halls that had lived for thousands of years. He had no doubt the the Golden Trio would be at a party in the Gryffindor common room, congratulating the Golden Boy for defeating Voldemort.

He had a couple more days until the party. He could think on it.

Friday evening came, and just as Severus was about to get into his nightclothes, there was a knock on the door to his quarters.

With an irritated grumble, he stalked his way to the door and wrenched it open. There stood Minerva McGonagall, hands on hips, lips pursed. "What is it you need, Minerva?" he snapped tiredly.

"You are coming with me to that party whether you want to or not," The woman told him. She grabbed him by his elbow and tugged him out into the hallway, closing the door to his quarters with a slam. Then she turned to him, staring back at his glare and said, "Walk. Now."

He glared at her, then turned and began to stalk away from her. But he knew she was following behind him.

By the time they made it to the teacher's lounge, the party had begun and was already in full swing. But when the door opened and Severus walked through with Minerva following behind him, all sound had gone silent.

Then Pomona said, "Severus, you made it!"

The music started up again, as did the talking, and Severus stood there, unsure of what he should be doing. So, he stood by the door and watched as the other teachers gossiped, danced, sang, and drank Firewhiskey together in groups of twos or threes. House elves set trays of appetizers on a table before popping away, then popping back with some drinks.

Severus made his way over to a table and sat down, continuing to watch the festivity that went on before him.

There was the sound of a chair being pushed back and the sound of a glass being set before him that made him look over. There sat Albus, a smile on his face, his blue eyes twinkling with merriment at seeing Severus at the party.

"I hope you know I didn't send Minerva to fetch you," the old man began.

Severus quirked an eyebrow, picking up the glass and taking a sip. Ah, firewhiskey.

"But she was dead set on you coming here, even when Pomona and I said that if you wanted to be left alone, you could." He shook his head. "I'm very sorry, Severus."

Severus took another sip and shook his head, setting the glass down. "I'll be fine, Albus. It's just a party."

Albus chuckled. "Yes, but you are socially awkward in a way, Severus."

The onyx-eyed man scowled. "I know that."

"Ah, okay. Oh, it looks like I am needed. I will talk to you later, my boy?"

Severus tollled his eyes. "Yes, yes."

The older man studied him for a second, then nodded with a smile. "Well then," he said, setting his hand on Severus's shoulder, "enjoy the party while you can." Then he walked off.

Severus watched after the man and muttered, "Meddling old coot."

Maybe next time he will head to bed early or just ignore the knocking at the door.