-=JKR, is the shit. (That's a complement)=-
Cheap Thrills
End of N.E.W.T.s
~!~
"No. They're over, all over. I'm not talking about N.E.W.T.s, are you Ron?"
"You're on your own Hermione," Ron agreed with Harry.
"Fine, catch up to you two later." Hermione declared.
"See you," they chimed.
"Tickle Torture." The portrait opened.
"N.E.W.T.s over?" Snape kissed her briefly. "Make yourself comfortable." Hermione took an armchair over the sofa. Things had been tense since Easter break. "What next?" Snape probed cautiously.
"Tomorrow I get sheared," Hermione smiled at Snape's displeasure.
"I'm appalled that you're actually going through with it." Snape brought his fist down on the mantle.
Oh no, another round of chest thumping. "Everyone takes issue with my hair, you included. It seemed like the perfect selling point." Severus' face went hard. "And you are not going to exact revenge on the one who wins. This is supposed to be fun, it's for a good cause."
"Fun? You're kidding." Snorting, "Gryffindors." Snape chose to regroup, "I'm not pleased." Snape scowled, then poured two fire whiskys. "Any plans for after the Graduation ceremony and the Ball?" Snape handed her the glass.
Sipping her whisky. "I've been accepted into the Spell Damage Rehabilitation training program." Hermione glowed with pride.
"Impressive." Snape offered. "And the ball?"
"I've got something to do." Hermione didn't want to tell Snape she scheduled the appointment, deliberately during the Ball.
"I thought ladies like dances." Severus stood sentry by the fireplace, feeling particularly chaffed.
"I love dances. This one wouldn't be much fun for me. The caretaker of the house I wish to rent, is meeting me. If I like the house, I'll be ready to sign on the dotted line." Hermione rushed to the end of her excuse and still didn't win.
Snape was insulted. "Don't be stupid, move in with me. Then you can go to the ball. Everyone's happy. And anyway; why wouldn't the ball be enjoyable?"
"Who would I dance with PROFESSOR? My gay best friend, Ron will up be 'stuck up Pansy's ass,' Severus, that was meant figuratively not literally. Of course there's also, Draco Grab-ass Malfoy. They are fine friends, but they don't 'float my boat.'" Resuming her business-like manner. "As it stands, I need my own place..." Hermione sensed the conversation deteriorating, swigging the remaining fire whisky, remained stoic.
"Why? I have enough room, for six of you." Snape stubbornly countered.
"Drop it Severus." Hermione levelled her gaze at him.
Snape faced the bookcases, seething. "Are you coming back after your appointment? At least that would be something."
Wanting to mark your territory, Severus? Trying to lighten the mood, "perhaps. On a happier note, I have a surprise for you. I'm going to kidnap you, the weekend after graduation. Kinky, ain't it."
She just said the magic word. Kinky. "You are the limit, Hermione. I have a better idea, let's celebrate tonight, right after dinner."
"Are you forgetting rounds? With the Graduating Class, Common room parties, and the usual; I'll be as busy as, a toothless prostitute giving sickle blow-jobs." Hermione laughed at her own silliness. "I've got it! We can patrol together, hold hands, sneak into a nook for the odd bit of snogging." Hermione crossed her fingers.
Severus responded flatly. "Maintaining a respectful distance in public is necessary." The fear engulfed him. "You don't understand."
Hermione stood. "You're right, I don't. Propriety is one thing, but what you're doing is tantamount to shame. Shame and fear, and you want to know something else, I don't want to be, your dirty little secret." Each word filled with hurt pride. Hermione bounded to the door, and left.
The slamming door jarred Severus.
