Title: Blind Date
Summary: A dull summer leads Harry, Ron, and Hermione to their most impossible adventure ever – trying to make Remus Lupin suitable for a blind date.
Note: I had nothing to do with this. The little aliens that plant inside your brain while you're bored out of your skull on an airplane for five hours? This whole thing is all THEIR idea. I swear.
Another Note: The twist at the end was mine, however.
The Last Note (for now. BWAHAHAHAH!): Attention, Remus Lovers – this is a PARODY. As I am readily counted amidst your numbers, I cannot express my emphasis upon this enough. Hence, I will resort to capital letters. THIS IS A PARODY. A PARODY. P-A-R-O-D-Y. Satire, okay? This is SUPPOSED to be rather zany. -Sighs- 'Though I suppose if you're going to flame me, go ahead. –Rolls eyes- Anyways, this is just sort of the pilot, to see the reaction. If it's good, I'll continue.
There was an uncommon amount of people staying at Grimmauld that summer; Harry, Ron, and Hermione attempted many times to head out into the corridor, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ginny, or (even better) what the members of the Order were up to. However, the trio found themselves shoved, jostled, and rebuked in general, until they finally allowed themselves to be sent to their rooms.
Harry sat at the edge of his bed, legs hung over the side, and his arms folded over his chest. He glared at the wall just above Ron's right shoulder, as the Weasley sat on the bed adjacent, a deep scowl scrawled across his features. "It's not fair," he said for the umpteenth time, every inch the angst-ridden teenager.
Hermione frowned, looking up from a massive book at Harry, from where she sat cross-legged on the floor. "It's not good complaining about it," she said matter-of-factly.
Ron exhaled heavily and lay down on his mattress. "No," he admitted. "But it does make me feel better."
Always arriving at just the right moment, their former teacher, Lupin, opened the door – narrowly missing Hermione – and smiled genially at the three. "Having a good holiday?" he said. Somehow, every word that came out of his mouth seemed to be perfectly inopportune.
Each gave the werewolf a perfectly evil look of loathing. Remus, however, was unperturbed. "Beautiful day out," he remarked with a grin.
"Really?" said Ron. "I wouldn't know. We've only been cooped up here for AGES." He flashed a sardonic, simpering beam towards Lupin.
"That's a shame," commented Lupin with a piteous shake of the head. He slipped a hand into the pockets of his cardigan, and frowned as he saw his thumb sticking out of a hole in the wool. "Ah – I'll have to have this mended, before tonight..."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Why?" she asked dubiously.
"What, you've got a hot date?" Harry interjected. Ron burst into sniggers.
Lupin, however, didn't find this amusing, at all. Rather, his cheeks, usually quite pale, turned a rather nice shade of crimson to match Ron's hair. Hermione's jaw dropped. "YOU HAVE A HOT DATE?!" she shrieked, positively aghast.
Remus's face darkened – it had now surpassed the colour of Ron's ginger locks, and was now the equivalent of Percy's face whenever he became rather spotty, which was often. He opened his mouth, promptly shut it, and cracked it open slightly again to mutter in the affirmative.
"OH MY GODRIC!" screeched Ron. "MY TEACHER HAS A GIRLFRIEND?!"
"I'm not your teacher anymore, Ron!" Remus shot back with a scowl, for lack of else to say. He glowered for a moment, before adding, "And, NO, I do NOT have a girlfriend." He shuffled his feet a bit. "It's just a date."
"Who is it?" cried Harry, having broken from his stupor of incredulity. He gazed at the lycanthrope with a mixture of awe and horror.
At first, Lupin did not answer, and his face was growing steadily past scarlet, through crimson, and into the qualifications of burgundy. Finally, he sighed. "I don't know."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DON'T KNOW?" screamed Hermione, causing the portrait of Mrs Black a few floors below to burst into a new tirade. Hermione, however, ignored it. "HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW?"
His face, having reached it's limits for turning bright red, paled and he smiled weakly. "It's sort of..." Lupin breathed heavily and shook his head, as 'though hoping to make it seem funny. "It's sort of a blind date."
"A blind date?" said Hermione, finally lowering her voice from a scream, but dropped it into listless monotony. She looked at Lupin, eyed him up and down, and shook her head. "You're not going to get that sweater fixed in time," she said.
Lupin looked down at the hole in his pocket and looked rather perplexed. "Why not?" he asked, ever innocuous. "It looks fine to me – easily fixed –"
"NO," said Hermione forcefully, shaking her head again. "You CANNOT do that." She shook her head. "Is that ALL you own? Just a bunch of sweaters and tweed trousers?" Hermione peered at his shoes distastefully. "And loafers?"
Lupin grimaced, as 'though he were going to retort, but it dawned on him, and his face fell. "Yeah," he said finally, rather crestfallen. "Sort of."
Hermione clucked her tongue and shook her head. "If you do that again," said Harry warningly, "your head is going to fall off." Just to spite him, Hermione did so again.
After assuring that her head was still firmly attached to her body, Hermione scowled at Lupin. "You can't conceivably make a good impression on ANYONE wearing something like THAT," she said bluntly. Lupin scowled at her.
"And what would you suggest?" he asked, sounding irritated. He was quite obviously not one who liked his fashion decisions critiqued.
Hermione shrugged, nonplussed. "We're going shopping. Duh," she added, the perfect teenager-esque reply.
Lupin shook his head fervently. "Oh, NO." To his surprise, Ron had done the exact same thing simultaneously. Hermione looked over at Ron.
"What's YOUR problem?" she asked.
Ron scowled. "I am NOT going to go shopping," he said firmly. "I HATE shopping, and I'm not even your victim. Yet." He frowned at the very thought.
Hermione waved a hand dismissively. "What, you don't want to get out of this house?" she asked. "Oh, all right – miss out on all the girls, out for summer shopping –"
"Girls?" cried Ron and Harry at the same instant. Lupin raised an eyebrow, clearly intent on putting a stop to this while he still could, but Hermione interrupted.
"Yes," she said with a nod. "Come on, then, Professor Lupin."
Summary: A dull summer leads Harry, Ron, and Hermione to their most impossible adventure ever – trying to make Remus Lupin suitable for a blind date.
Note: I had nothing to do with this. The little aliens that plant inside your brain while you're bored out of your skull on an airplane for five hours? This whole thing is all THEIR idea. I swear.
Another Note: The twist at the end was mine, however.
The Last Note (for now. BWAHAHAHAH!): Attention, Remus Lovers – this is a PARODY. As I am readily counted amidst your numbers, I cannot express my emphasis upon this enough. Hence, I will resort to capital letters. THIS IS A PARODY. A PARODY. P-A-R-O-D-Y. Satire, okay? This is SUPPOSED to be rather zany. -Sighs- 'Though I suppose if you're going to flame me, go ahead. –Rolls eyes- Anyways, this is just sort of the pilot, to see the reaction. If it's good, I'll continue.
There was an uncommon amount of people staying at Grimmauld that summer; Harry, Ron, and Hermione attempted many times to head out into the corridor, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ginny, or (even better) what the members of the Order were up to. However, the trio found themselves shoved, jostled, and rebuked in general, until they finally allowed themselves to be sent to their rooms.
Harry sat at the edge of his bed, legs hung over the side, and his arms folded over his chest. He glared at the wall just above Ron's right shoulder, as the Weasley sat on the bed adjacent, a deep scowl scrawled across his features. "It's not fair," he said for the umpteenth time, every inch the angst-ridden teenager.
Hermione frowned, looking up from a massive book at Harry, from where she sat cross-legged on the floor. "It's not good complaining about it," she said matter-of-factly.
Ron exhaled heavily and lay down on his mattress. "No," he admitted. "But it does make me feel better."
Always arriving at just the right moment, their former teacher, Lupin, opened the door – narrowly missing Hermione – and smiled genially at the three. "Having a good holiday?" he said. Somehow, every word that came out of his mouth seemed to be perfectly inopportune.
Each gave the werewolf a perfectly evil look of loathing. Remus, however, was unperturbed. "Beautiful day out," he remarked with a grin.
"Really?" said Ron. "I wouldn't know. We've only been cooped up here for AGES." He flashed a sardonic, simpering beam towards Lupin.
"That's a shame," commented Lupin with a piteous shake of the head. He slipped a hand into the pockets of his cardigan, and frowned as he saw his thumb sticking out of a hole in the wool. "Ah – I'll have to have this mended, before tonight..."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Why?" she asked dubiously.
"What, you've got a hot date?" Harry interjected. Ron burst into sniggers.
Lupin, however, didn't find this amusing, at all. Rather, his cheeks, usually quite pale, turned a rather nice shade of crimson to match Ron's hair. Hermione's jaw dropped. "YOU HAVE A HOT DATE?!" she shrieked, positively aghast.
Remus's face darkened – it had now surpassed the colour of Ron's ginger locks, and was now the equivalent of Percy's face whenever he became rather spotty, which was often. He opened his mouth, promptly shut it, and cracked it open slightly again to mutter in the affirmative.
"OH MY GODRIC!" screeched Ron. "MY TEACHER HAS A GIRLFRIEND?!"
"I'm not your teacher anymore, Ron!" Remus shot back with a scowl, for lack of else to say. He glowered for a moment, before adding, "And, NO, I do NOT have a girlfriend." He shuffled his feet a bit. "It's just a date."
"Who is it?" cried Harry, having broken from his stupor of incredulity. He gazed at the lycanthrope with a mixture of awe and horror.
At first, Lupin did not answer, and his face was growing steadily past scarlet, through crimson, and into the qualifications of burgundy. Finally, he sighed. "I don't know."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DON'T KNOW?" screamed Hermione, causing the portrait of Mrs Black a few floors below to burst into a new tirade. Hermione, however, ignored it. "HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW?"
His face, having reached it's limits for turning bright red, paled and he smiled weakly. "It's sort of..." Lupin breathed heavily and shook his head, as 'though hoping to make it seem funny. "It's sort of a blind date."
"A blind date?" said Hermione, finally lowering her voice from a scream, but dropped it into listless monotony. She looked at Lupin, eyed him up and down, and shook her head. "You're not going to get that sweater fixed in time," she said.
Lupin looked down at the hole in his pocket and looked rather perplexed. "Why not?" he asked, ever innocuous. "It looks fine to me – easily fixed –"
"NO," said Hermione forcefully, shaking her head again. "You CANNOT do that." She shook her head. "Is that ALL you own? Just a bunch of sweaters and tweed trousers?" Hermione peered at his shoes distastefully. "And loafers?"
Lupin grimaced, as 'though he were going to retort, but it dawned on him, and his face fell. "Yeah," he said finally, rather crestfallen. "Sort of."
Hermione clucked her tongue and shook her head. "If you do that again," said Harry warningly, "your head is going to fall off." Just to spite him, Hermione did so again.
After assuring that her head was still firmly attached to her body, Hermione scowled at Lupin. "You can't conceivably make a good impression on ANYONE wearing something like THAT," she said bluntly. Lupin scowled at her.
"And what would you suggest?" he asked, sounding irritated. He was quite obviously not one who liked his fashion decisions critiqued.
Hermione shrugged, nonplussed. "We're going shopping. Duh," she added, the perfect teenager-esque reply.
Lupin shook his head fervently. "Oh, NO." To his surprise, Ron had done the exact same thing simultaneously. Hermione looked over at Ron.
"What's YOUR problem?" she asked.
Ron scowled. "I am NOT going to go shopping," he said firmly. "I HATE shopping, and I'm not even your victim. Yet." He frowned at the very thought.
Hermione waved a hand dismissively. "What, you don't want to get out of this house?" she asked. "Oh, all right – miss out on all the girls, out for summer shopping –"
"Girls?" cried Ron and Harry at the same instant. Lupin raised an eyebrow, clearly intent on putting a stop to this while he still could, but Hermione interrupted.
"Yes," she said with a nod. "Come on, then, Professor Lupin."