Hermione fell onto her bed and buried her head under the pillow. She groaned as Crookshanks jumped onto her back and interrupted her – well, since she wasn't doing anything – her nothing-doing. She managed to get the cat off her bed and sat up.
This day had been bad. Really bad. Potions had been the first class that morning. She had blown up her first cauldron. Well, technically it had been Neville, but she knew his tendency to... mess with potions. She should have paid more attention. In her mind she had been thinking about skipping the next Hogsmeade weekend with Harry and Ron because of the upcoming N.E.W.T.s. After all it was already October. N.E.W.T.s would come faster than everyone thought. She just had to make up a study plan. She swore never to let her attention waver in class again. Ever.
After Potions they had Care of Magical Creatures. Of course again a class with Slytherin. And of course Malfoy and his lap dogs had bugged her all the time. 'Oh, Granger, be careful. We won't want the Blast-Ended Skrewts to explode. Oops, too late.' Hagrid had come up with the idea to take their seventh year as revision of the last six. But of all creatures he had to pick those blasted (A/N: pun intended!) Skrewts. Of course they would explode finally, not helping her situation at all.
At least Arithmancy hadn't been too bad. But Professor Vector gave them awful lot of homework to do. This day couldn't possibly get worse.
Parvati came into the room and saw her sitting there with messy hair and an exhausted look on her face.
"Are you still worked up because of that potion? Hermione, everyone let a cauldron melt or explode in Potions. Even Malfoy, and he's second best after you. I tell you what: You go and get a long, hot bath and we two and Lavender have a girls evening. How's that?"
Hermione faked a smile. She so didn't want what her roommates called a 'girls evening'. All it would be was sitting in old baggy clothes in front of the fire and talk about their favourite topics (boys, clothes, make-up) while eating cookies (she could almost hear Lavender already: 'Oh my god, after all those cookies I'll have to skip breakfast tomorrow. Maybe even lunch. I'm gonna grow fat!') and drinking hot chocolate ('But – are you sure this is low-fat?').
But the bath sounded great.
Hermione smiled politely at Parvati and forced her voice not to sound sarcastically (although she doubted that Parvati would notice anyway). "Sure. That'll be great. So I see you two in the Common Room?"
"Yeah. I'll save you some cookies. You know Lavender: Once started on them, no one is able to get her away from the cookies." Parvati laughed and left the room.
"Yes, Crookshanks, isn't this the utmost definition of fun?" she asked her cat ironically, mimicking Parvati's tone of voice.
Sighing, Hermione took off her robes and went into the bathroom.
+~*#
"OK. Any suggestions?" Harry asked.
His... partners in crime – Ron and Ginny – shook their heads. After a few seconds of thought Ginny's face lit up. "We need to pick one first," she stated.
The three sat in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, talking quietly to not be overheard.
"OK, so what does she like, anyways?" Ron asked, taking out parchment and quill.
"Dark hair," said Harry. "Viktor had dark hair. And maybe she likes boys with an accent. Or athletics. Ginny, why do we have to do the work? You are a girl. She is a girl. Go and find out what she likes."
"'Mione's in the bathroom, taking a bath. And later she'll have a girls evening with Lavender and Parvati. Maybe I can join."
"Good," said Ron. He dipped the quill in his inkpot and began writing:
What Hermione finds attractive in a man.
One: Dark hair
Two:
"Well, we don't exactly have a second point yet, but we have almost another year to set her up with someone."
"Uh-oh. Here she comes. Try to not look suspicious. You too, Ron," Ginny muttered and went over to join Hermione, Lavender and Parvati.
+~*#
"So tell me, 'Mione, what do you like in a man?" Ginny asked after a while. They had been talking about boys now for some time and it seemed safe to ask without drawing attention.
"Hmm? What did you say? Sorry, I was just thinking about this potion, you know," Hermione said.
"Just what you like in a man. Tall? Dark or blond? Muscles? Something like that," Ginny replied. Lavender and Parvati were almost as eager to hear the answer to that as she herself, but not because of the same reason.
"Oh, I don't really care."
"What? But – what if he looked like, I don't know, like Alexander Applegate?" Lavender said. Alexander Applegate was a Slytherin in sixth year who looked like a horse sat on his face all day, he had pimples all over his face and neck, his hair was greasier than Professor Snape's and he stunk. Real bad.
"Uh, Lavender, that was extreme. Now I have to think about Justin to get that picture out of my head," Parvati said.
"I just think that there are more important things than good looks. Take intelligence or humour, for example. What use is a man when you can't even have a decent conversation?" Hermione said. She felt the urge to defend herself.
"Well, I could think of a use. Most definitely," Lavender said, wetting her bottom lip with her tongue, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
"Come on, 'Mione. Don't tell me you don't get turned on when a guy looks hot. Surely 'conversation' is not all, right?" Ginny dug further.
Hermione sighed. "Well, of course it helps when the guy is good-looking."
"How would you define good-looking, anyway, Hermione," Parvati asked, one eyebrow rosed. "Not as carries lots of books, right?"
"Nooo", said Hermione slowly. "For once, he has to be taller than me. I hate it when you can't even wear a little bit of a heel. And dark hair would be good. And not too many muscles, just enough, so that he's firm and all but not unnaturally built. Oh, and his hands. Long fingers, please." Hermione finished her hot chocolate and set the cup aside. She took the last cookie – followed by Lavender, who longingly glanced towards it, but said nothing.
"Why that? I don't see –," Parvati stopped. "Why, Hermione, naughty girl, you. I never knew."
Hermione blushed. That was not what she had meant. But trying to explain would just make it worse, so she smiled mysteriously and ate her cookie.
"Girls, I'm tired. I'm gonna call it a night and get to bed. Goodnight," Hermione finally said after another hour of talking about clothes and make-up.
She went off to her room and once again had to get Crookshanks off her bed before lying down and drifting off to sleep.
+~*#
After several attempts to recreate Longbottoms potion, Snape finally gave up for the day. He had some other potions to brew as well. So it was late at night when Professor Severus Snape finally bottled the last potion he'd been brewing. He carefully sealed and labelled the vial that now contained a slightly yellow liquid. In a swift motion he wrote 'Luweldola's Anger-Erasing Potion' across the label and put the vial into his potions cupboard. He emptied the cauldron with a flick of his wand and collected the remains of the ingredients. After storing them in his supplies cupboard, he headed towards his chambers. They were – as almost all student assumed – down in the dungeons, so his way was not that long. He just had to go across the hall to get to the portrait of Bravado the Beast.
"Hey Jude," he told the pacing figure of Bravado and waited for the picture to swing aside and reveal the secret passage that lead to his living room. Dumbledore had been wondering about his strange password, considering that it was the song title of a no 1 hit of the Beatles, some muggle band, but the explanation was quite simple. The only students down in the dungeons were Slytherins – except for those students in his potion classes – and they were not likely to try something like a muggle song title as password. So even if they knew where his entrance was, they would never figure out how to get in. Hell, even if that know-it-all brat Granger knew where it was, she just would try things like 'mudblood', 'torturing students' or 'poison'. He was Snape, after all. The most feared teacher at Hogwarts.
Bravado swung aside and interrupted Professor Snape's thoughts. "'Night, Professor," the deep voice of Bravado echoed through the deserted hallway.
Snape didn't bother to respond. He stepped through the hole in the wall and walked down the narrow corridor in front of him. As he passed, the torches alongside the walls magically lit and everything was bathed in the mild light of the flames.
Reaching his comfortable living room, Snape unbuttoned his robes and tossed them over the sofa. Walking over to the side table, he poured himself a drink and decided to settle down for a little reading. Snape set his glass onto the heavy wooden table by his favourite armchair and crossed the room towards his private library. It contained several expensive – and very rare – limited first edition copies of essential magical subjects – although most were of course about potions or the Dark Arts –, as well as the basics of magical and muggle literature. Actually, his library could rival Hogwarts' very own library in any point – and outdo it.
Filing through the long rows of books, he once in a while took one book out of the shelf, just to put it back again. He wasn't in the mood to read anything about potions at the moment. The potion he'd done earlier surely hadn't helped with that. It had been his sixth attempt and the only reason he wasn't angry about the fact that it had taken him this long was that he had tested it. At least he had the proof he'd been successful.
Snape moved over to his section of wizarding literature. He surely wasn't in the mood for wizarding poetry and therefore dismissed the idea of reading 'Sixteen ways to rhyme the word slime'.
Finally he reached the shelf that held his muggle books. Every time he went to London, he went into a muggle bookstore and bought the top ten books of the current bestsellers list. This way he kept up with the developments in muggle literature as well as it entertained him. Over the years he also purchased a large amount of muggle 'classics'.
'The Tale of King Arthur' didn't sound too bad, and to be honest, he'd always liked Merlin. He was supposed to be one of the greatest wizards ever, although the muggles had a completely wrong picture of him. At least some humour in the book.
With the decision made he grabbed the book and returned to his living room, poured himself another glass of firewhiskey and settled down of the sofa.
AN: Next one will be with more action… ::grins smugly:: … oh yeah… action