Hermione patted her hair, making sure it had stayed put during her trek to The Bludger Bistro. She wasn't nervous, per se, but she did want to make a good first impression. Based on what Kingsley Shacklebolt had told her about her mystery date, he was a wizard of very discerning tastes and high standards. It would not do to appear unkempt.
She glanced around the crowded little restaurant, making sure that the single pink rose was prominently displayed on the edge of the table. It was how her blind date had been told to locate her. Rolling her eyes, Hermione saw the barely-disguised form of Brett Vetter, the Wizarding world's most prominent – and disliked – paparazzo. He had taken to dogging Harry, Ron, and Hermione's every step.
Gesturing at him rudely, Hermione was pleased when the bistro's owner strode over and bodily removed Brett from the vicinity. She hardly wanted this blind date to end up on the front page of Witch Weekly… although it would hardly be the first time Hermione had graced their questionable cover.
Inspecting the underside of the table now (Hermione often found this was the best way to determine the overall cleanliness of an establishment), she was pleased to find that the dark recesses were completely tidy and free of dust, dirt, and other debris. Sitting up, she checked her watch – it would be seven o'clock in just one minute. Where was her date? Surely he had not stood her up!
Tapping her foot impatiently, Hermione wondered how rude he would think her if she ordered something to drink before he arrived. To be honest, she never wasted much time worrying about what people thought of her anymore – she had helped to save all their lives, so if she wanted to act like a nargle on a rampage, then that was her prerogative. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the bistro darkened considerably, and she noticed a definite decrease in the volume of chatter from the other tables. Wondering what could have caused the disruption, she craned her neck towards the bar, and thus missed the approach of the man now standing at her table.
"Damn, it's you," a deep voice cursed very near to her shoulder. Stiffening with dread, Hermione turned slowly to see the person that stood beside her, even though she knew who it was without looking. How could she ever forget that voice?
"Good evening, Professor Snape," she said resignedly. "I suppose you're here for our blind date?"
Snape lowered himself into the chair across from her, scowling fiercely. "Your powers of deduction have not improved since the defeat of the Dark Lord, I see," he sneered.
"And your personal hygiene has not improved since then, either," Hermione noted wryly. She studied the dour visage of her former Potions Master, wondering whether she should hex Kingsley tonight or in the morning when she saw him at work. A blind date, indeed. Perhaps if she was actually blind, Hermione might be able to enjoy herself more. Then he spoke, and the idea of enjoying herself at all this evening was squashed.
"Did you ask Minerva to set this up for any particular reason, Miss Granger?" he asked silkily, his voice dripping with pity and condescension.
"I had no idea that Minerva's 'poor bloke' was you, Professor, or I would never have agreed to this," Hermione answered truthfully. "Kingsley only told me-" She broke off as she felt Snape invade her mind, and she huffed out an exasperated breath. "Look all you want. I'm not lying. I did not know you would be my mystery man for the evening when I agreed to come on this ludicrous excuse for a date."
Snape must have been satisfied with what he saw, because he withdrew and glared at her. "Very well. I will forgive you-" Now it was Snape's turn to break off, as he undoubtedly felt the effects of Hermione's roughly cast Legilimens. "Miss Granger! How dare you assault my mind in such an unrefined manner-"
Unhurriedly sifting through his memories, Hermione let out a sigh when she saw that McGonagall hadn't told Snape who he was meeting, either. "I may lack finesse, Professor, but at least now we may both be assured that the other did not contrive this ill-planned meeting."
"Where did you learn Legilimency?" Snape demanded.
"It's the first thing they teach at Auror training," Hermione said.
"I can hardly believe that the Ministry would train witches and wizards to root around in other people's minds with such a heavy hand." Snape glared at her, clearly thinking she was lying.
"Yes, well, we've only just started learning the actual practice," Hermione explained. "The finesse will come later. It's just that I'm a bit ahead of the other trainees since I already knew the basics from our little – excursion – last year."
"You're telling me that you taught yourselves Legilimency while you were hiding in the woods? Pardon me if I find it difficult to believe that Potter and Weasley managed to scrape up the concentration to master such a talent." He turned his glare on an approaching wizard, quill and parchment ready for an autograph, and the boy quickly changed his mind and slunk away.
"What else, exactly, did you think we did to break the monotony of every single isolated day, hmm? At some point we gave up on speculating uselessly and turned our attentions to more practical matters. That included learning basic Legilimency and Occlumency." Hermione signaled a waiter, and a glass of wine appeared before her. Snape reluctantly did the same.
"I should have known it would be you when Minerva described the woman as 'a stimulating conversationalist and uncommonly brilliant'." Snape's expression clearly stated his disagreement with this assessment of Hermione.
"Professor McGonagall is lovely, isn't she?" Hermione smiled fondly before sobering again. "Kingsley was rather more eloquent in describing my potential suitor. 'This wizard has barriers around him as impenetrable as the highest-security vault at Gringott's; but just like the treasure kept there, if you can get past the barriers, the result is well worth the effort.'" It was Hermione's turn to make a face at this ridiculous spin on Snape's unpleasant personality.
"I am no treasure," Snape snarled.
"You'll hear no argument from me," Hermione muttered under her breath as she swirled the wine in her glass.
"Why would you agree to go on a date with such a person?" Snape asked, his distaste obvious. Hermione took her time answering, taking a long sip of wine as she thought about his question. No doubt he thought she was the most desperate witch in the country; the poor little know-it-all with no one to love. She set her glass down and met his gaze without a hint of disgrace.
"I've already broken into Gringott's once, haven't I?" she replied, smirking and unable to keep the pride from her tone. "In the past year I've been propositioned more times than I can count, I receive owls from fervent admirers on a daily basis, and I can't go anywhere without the entire Wizarding population speculating on my possible motives, companions, and attire. I confess I was drawn to someone who sounded like a bit of a challenge."
Snape merely glared at her for a long moment, as though he was trying to comprehend who on earth would proposition the bushy-haired Gryffindor. Hermione kept her eye contact with her former professor, only raising one eyebrow when he continued to stare at her. Finally, she could take it no more.
"Besides, Kingsley made it out that I'd be doing him a personal favor, and as he's my boss, I decided it would be advantageous to meet with this highly-guarded individual. Of course, I will be having a stern discussion with him tomorrow…" She looked down as their plates appeared with a soft pop. "I'll not complain if you wish to leave," she offered politely as she speared a bit of chicken with her fork. "But I'm going to enjoy the free dinner."
"I can't," Snape growled, so softly that Hermione barely heard him.
"Well, that's a shame," she said cheerfully. "It's quite good-"
"You misunderstand me," he said. Hermione nodded her head once to indicate that yes, she was quite aware of that. He continued, looking even more aggravated than before. "I mean that I cannot leave this wretched date until it is over. Your darling Minerva made sure to word her invitation in such a way that I had no choice but to accept if I wished to keep my position, and furthermore, she managed to cast some sort of spell keeping me here until the natural conclusion of the date. I gather," and here his face twisted into a feral sort of smile, "that she accurately predicted my reaction to the mystery woman and did not wish for me to storm back up to the castle immediately upon learning your identity."
Hermione's peal of laughter rang out across the room, and several other patrons turned to see what was so funny. Snape's eyes locked onto her face, and he seemed unable to look away. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Hermione continued to chuckle. "She does know you well, Professor," she said.
Snape was watching her closely now, an odd almost-smile on his face. Hermione briefly wondered what had him so transfixed, but she mentally shrugged before once again attacking her chicken and vegetables with gusto. The salary provided to Aurors in training could most generously be described as a pittance, so it was not often that she was able to dine in such a high-quality establishment.
Snape didn't say anything more, and the silence stretched on as he reluctantly began to eat. Eventually, Hermione grew bored, and decided she may as well use this time to annoy him with idle chatter.
"So, Professor, how is Slytherin's Quidditch team this year? Still full of cheats?" She was rewarded when Snape nearly choked on his wine, his eyes narrowing in indignation.
"No more so than the lackluster group of buffoons who comprise the Gryffindor team," Snape responded. "In fact, they're so hopeless that the Hufflepuff students have taken to making signs pointing them in the direction of the correct goal posts." His smiled both mocked her beloved House and challenged her to defend them.
"Oh, I love to hear stories of inter-House cooperation, don't you?" Hermione asked sweetly.
"Don't make me laugh," Snape spat. "You'd never deign to socialize with a Slytherin-"
"Ah, tsk tsk, Professor!" Hermione interrupted him. "I'm on a date with one at this very moment!"
Snape's lips compressed into a grim line, and the silence returned. Hermione finished her dinner and reached across to snag a chip from Snape's plate.
"How dare-" he began, but Hermione waggled one finger at him.
"Now, now, Severus, that's just proper date behavior – or haven't you any experience?" Hermione deliberately pushed her mouth into an exaggerated pout. "Poor thing. Is this your first date?" She knew she'd enraged him beyond anything before when his normally pale face flushed a dull red.
"Just because I am forced to sit here and listen to your drivel does not mean that I consider myself to be on a date!" he hissed furiously. "I will have you know that I have been on more dates in my lifetime than you could ever hope to imagine!"
"Oh dear," Hermione responded, leaning sideways in her chair and casually resting a booted foot on her knee. "It sounds like you must not be very good at them, then. Maybe we can use this time to work on your wooing skills, hmm? For starters, it's usually not a very good idea to greet your date with 'Damn, it's you'," Hermione drawled. She watched delightedly as his fists clenched on the tabletop. Sparring with Snape, turning his words around on him at long last – it felt so good.
"You're quite right," Snape agreed silkily, and Hermione was immediately on her guard. "I should have greeted you with a simple Silencio." He grinned nastily at her.
"That would have been lovely, yes." Hermione nodded, pleased when confusion stole across his features. "It would have saved me from listening to your insults if you had merely Silenced yourself first." She brazenly reached out and snared another of his chips, popping it into her mouth and sighing with pleasure.
"Is there no end to your cheek, witch?" he growled, brutually stabbing at his shepherd's pie. Hermione was struck by the impression that he was enjoying himself far more than he was letting on, and she wondered whether his particular brand of sarcasm was more misunderstood than actually rude. She supposed that if she was relishing their verbal battle, there was a chance that he was, as well.
"I'm afraid not," Hermione answered happily. This evening was turning out so much better than she'd imagined when she saw him standing at their table. "I've found that you no longer intimidate me in the slightest, and I've determined to torture you as much as possible before the spell that Professor McGonagall placed on you dissolves." She tapped the menu with her wand, and a large piece of chocolate cake appeared in front of her. "Fancy some dessert?"
Snape glared at her, then the cake, then her again. "You do realize that I cannot leave until you do? … Of course you do," he answered himself when she broke into a large grin. "Very well, you impertinent girl, I will eat some only so that I may be released from this hell that much sooner."
They finished the cake in silence, Hermione savoring every bite and Snape mechanically chewing and swallowing the treat as quickly as he could. After a few minutes, the cake was gone, and Hermione finished the last of her wine. Standing to retrieve her coat, Hermione noticed that Snape, too, was able to stand.
"Well, thank you for reminding me why I prefer people my own age to date," Hermione quipped. "I do hope I haven't kept you out too late." Her tone indicated otherwise.
A sneer curled Snape's mouth. "And thank you for reminding me why I did not resist Nagini's bite," he growled. Hermione rolled her eyes and reached for her purse, so she missed the way Snape watched her every move. She was busy with the fastenings on her coat when he spoke again. "Miss Granger. I find that I have not felt quite so – engaged – with anyone in many years, even if this evening was intolerable at best. If, after you've completed your Auror training, you wish to – owl one another, I would, perhaps, not immediately toss your correspondence into the fire."
She looked up at him, a condescending smile plastered on her face. "If, after Auror training, I find myself in need of receiving petty insults, then yes, I will owl you," she responded. Fumbling with her gloves – it was still early May and the evenings could get very chilly – she was shocked when he moved closer.
"I'm a changed man, Hermione," he said seriously. "I can still be bitter, and unpleasant, and I still detest teaching unruly students, but – I have been trying to change my habits and look for the good in people. I confess I was less distraught upon seeing you sitting here, waiting for me, than I acted. That is not easy for a man such as me to admit." He paused and took a deep breath. "I would like it if we could correspond occasionally. Ever since I woke up in St. Mungo's last year, it's as I said – I'm not the same as I once was." He studied her intently, waiting for her to answer.
Abandoning her buttons, Hermione straightened, her eyes locking onto his with the intensity of a niffler in a gold mine. Her smile was radiant. At last, at long last, he was telling her what she wanted to hear. The words that she'd wanted to say to him for years bubbled up, and she enunciated each word with crystal-clear precision so that he could not miss their meaning.
"I see no difference."
A/N: Written in response to OCDdegrassi's Disaster Date challenge on HPFC. Many thanks and chocolate cake to my beta, WeasleySeeker! I'm not JK Rowling, blah blah blah, although sometimes I wonder if she secretly writes terrible HP fanfiction whenever she's facing a writing block on whatever legitimate story she's working on.
I practically exploded with excitement when I had the idea for Hermione and Snape to go on a terrible blind date, and for Hermione to fling his words about her teeth back at him. I hope you enjoyed it too!