Title: The Date

Author: Addison Rae

Genre: Humor, Romance

Rating: PG, mild language

Summary: Hermione has a date. With Snape. Preparations, a meddling Headmaster, and no logical explanation…hilarity ensues.

Word count: 1267

Hermione Granger prided herself on many things. One being her ability to always asses the given situation with a clear, analytical mind, even in times of extreme duress or danger. Now was definitely one of those times.

Standing framed in her doorstep was one of the most feared and hated teachers in all of Europe, perhaps even all of the modern world.

Oh, she wasn't in any danger. Unless you consider a severely ticked off snaky bastard dangerous. This one, in particular, had been known to crack a few skulls. But Hermione knew him not to be dangerous, just tedious.

He hadn't even knocked. Just pushed the door open and stood there, tall and imposing, with his arms crossed over his chest. Dressed in black trousers and a white shirt, he was shockingly casual, compared to the usual thousand-buttoned frock coat. This in itself was slightly unnerving. Severus Snape in full bat regalia was one thing, this man, was another entirely. Hermione wasn't sure which was more intimidating, as it were.

This was the time for that prided analytical mind to tick in, spouting forth memorized book texts, points in history, or quotes from famed witches and wizards of the past and present. Alas, nothing.

Hermione found herself a blank page. Like a piece of Ron or Harry's homework being passed to her for "inspection", but bearing nothing but a title. Waiting for her to fill in the blanks. In this case, the piece could adequately be titled Why Is That Snarky Son-Of-A-Bitch Barging Into My Rooms? Or perhaps The Infinitely Mysterious Nighttime Visit, featuring Severus Snape. But our dear heroine draws nothing. A first in her lifetime, that is for sure. Hermione Jane Granger, blank as Gilderoy Lockhart's memory.

"Professor Granger, would you care to join me for dinner?"

Oh. Bloody. Hell.

"Er…dinner?" Hermione stupidly stammered. She was no good at this. Her skills did not include how to handle dinner invitations from former Potions teachers.

"Yes, the meal at oftentimes held in evenings, preceded by Lunch and Followed by Desert." His silky tones sent an odd shiver up her spine.

"Oh, um…I suppose that would be alright." Blundering idiot, Hermione cursed herself.

"I will return at seven o'clock." Snape nodded, before turning his back on her and exiting her rooms, closing the door sharply behind him.

The noise seemed to jerk Hermione from her stupor, and she jumped to life. A Date. With Snape! Oh Shit. What to do? Hermione frantically began pacing her room, muttering to herself, wild hand gesticulations adding to her frazzled appearance. This is how the Headmaster found her thirty minutes later.

"My dear, am I correct in hearing you have a date tonight with Severus."

Hermione froze. Somehow, hearing someone else say the words made it altogether more real. Dumbledore summoned a chair, which Hermione ungracefully fell into.

"What time is your date, Hermione?" Albus asked kindly.

"Seven." was the wooden, disconnected reply.

"Aren't you cutting it a bit short?"

Hermione glanced at the clock. Six-Thirty. She jumped up and ran into the bathroom, clothing, makeup, and various accessories floating after her. Dumbledore chuckled and left the young witch to herself.

A few minutes later, the old wizard stepped out of a large, ornate fireplace. Coming face-to-face with his Potions Master.

"Severus, what did you say to the poor girl?" he laughed, "I've never seen that young woman quite so…unnerved."

Snape looked up at him in alarm. The old man was much like a father to him, and he valued his opinion. However much he hated to admit it. Dumbledore gave him a knowing wink.

"No worries, my boy, I simply alerted her as to the time and there was a frenzy of feminine equipment of which I chose not to subject myself to." the Headmaster sat down in a large black armchair. "I thought I'd help you get ready instead."

Snape was reminded briefly of a child in a connectionist's shop.

"No, old man. I can dress myself, thank you."

"Might I suggest abandoning the frock coat, Severus? It gives you an altogether to intimidating appearance." Albus ventured hopefully.

"That is the point, Albus." Snape answered harshly.

"Yes, perhaps to a classroom of students, it gains the desired effect. But this is dinner, Severus, not class. And she is a date. Not a student."

"I know that!" Severus hissed. "I'm wearing dress robes."

"And what about your hair…" Albus trailed off, leaving the suggestion hanging in the already hostile air.

"What of it?" came the threatening reply.

"Well, you're not wearing it like that are you?"

"What is wrong with my hair?" Severus asked, his patience obviously tried.

"Its just so….why don't you pull it back with a nice cord?" Albus suggested enthusiastically.

"I will do no such thing!"

"-Or we can braid it-"

"-Absolutely not!-"

"-How about a trim?-"

"Give me the damn cord."

Albus twinkled more openly, only succeeding in infuriating his employee more as he waved his wand and a slim, black velvet cord shot out of the end. He motioned for Severus to move in front of him and Severus shook his head stiffly. A battle of wills followed. Albus twinkled impatiently. Severus raised an eyebrow. Albus twinkled still more, pointing his finger at the ground in front of him. Severus crossed his arms. Albus twinkled violently then, striding over to Severus and flapping his hands at him, forcing him sulkily towards the general direction of the mirror.

"Confinnius." Albus said, pointing his wand at Snape's head. The hair slicked back smoothly, and the cord wrapped itself tightly around it at the base of the neck several times before tying in a neat double knot and shrinking its loose ends so there was no left over cord.

Albus surveyed the results critically, circling the younger man, receiving scowls and glares as he went.

"No." he said finally. "No, it just wont do. ..perhaps a bow…"

"GET OUT!" Severus shouted, pointing firmly at the Floo.

Albus twinkled benignly, "I believe it is five minutes till seven, Severus." he said, stepping into the fire.

Severus' face took on an alarmed expression yet again, as he hurriedly grabbed his cloak and left the room.

In the meantime…

"Hermione, come out!" Ginny Weasley begged insistently, facing a wooden door that lead to her friend's private bath.

"No!"

"Hermione, it's almost seven!"

Silence followed this desperate proclamation, and the door slowly clicked open, revealing a scowling Hermione Granger. Ginny took in a deep breath and smiled, looking her friend up and down. Her hair was smoother, falling in soft curls down her back. Her eyes were rimmed lightly with kohl, not to harshly, just enough to make them seem bigger. A light dust of gold shadow covered her lids, pink on her cheeks. Clear gloss lined her lips, which were pressed together in a firm line. Hermione worse a knee length black dress with off the shoulder sleeves, and a simple silver chain adorned her neck, a diamond hanging from it's end.

"Well?" she asked, clearly irritated.

"You look beautiful, Hermione." Ginny answered honestly. She handed her friend a thick traveling coat just as a knock sounded sharply from the next room.

Ginny grinned encouragingly and stepped into the fire. Leaving Hermione alone and nervous. She went into the adjoining room and answered the door, greeted by a smartly dressed, stiff Snape.

"Good Evening, Hermione."

"Good Evening, Severus."

"Shall we?"

She took the arm he offered, and closed her door behind her with a wave of her wand. They walked in silence out of the castle, and into the night.