Don't Stand So Close To Me
Chapter Four
Bikinis?!
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Severus cursed loudly, receiving even more strange looks than he already had. He was racking up quite a total by now. He had finally (reluctantly) removed his robes, showing black silk pants and shirt. This, apparently, was not proper attire for this – this – deplorable place.
He scowled and tried to disapparate for the seventh time.
It still wouldn't work.
Damn that Albus! He should have suspected something when Albus was so bloody cheerful. This horrible man had taken away his productive work time, and turned this into something he knew Snape would hate! Snape growled. What now?
The logical part of his mind answered for him – he had to find a place to stay, first. Then he had to find out exactly where he was. Then he could figure out a way to get back.
But the question was – was this a muggle beach? Were there any wizards here?
He glanced around suspiciously. Knowing Albus, it was probably all muggle! Glaring, he yanked out a handful of Galleons. Snape made sure no one was watching, and jabbed his wand at them. Instantly, his hands were flooded with those strange muggle coins. He conjured a small bag for them, and shoved this into a suitcase. Now to find a hotel.
Right.
A hotel.
One problem. Snape had never booked himself into a muggle hotel. Come to think of it, he had never booked a hotel room at all. He usually stayed at the Three Broomsticks, but that was more like a bar with a few rooms stuck on. Not a real hotel.
And definitely not a real muggle hotel.
Snape gave himself a mental shove. Stop being such a first-year! he scolded, sounding reminiscent of McGonagall. You're a full-grown wizard. You can handle this! You've faced Death Eaters and unruly students! Surely you can handle muggle tourists!
He managed to find a hotel without much difficulty. It looked well-kept and classy, so he figure is was a good bet. After all, if he didn't have enough money, he could always transfigure more from his Galleons.
His rising confidence was instantly deflated when he saw the woman sitting behind the front desk. She looked exactly like his old Literature teacher. The one whose class he had almost failed. Whose nose could have sliced carrots. Whose glasses were a sinister copy of Dumbledore's. Who could do four things at once and still know who had bewitched the chalk. And who absolutely, positively had eyes in the back of her head.
His heart rose from his boots when he saw that this woman, at least, was far more interested in his money than in whether he had done his homework.
"Yes, sir, how can I help you?"
Snape, as usual, let not a touch of his apprehension leak onto his features. He put on his I-am-in-control face and smiled back. Which, after being so long out of use, was rather painful.
"Madame, I need a room for about a week." She nodded briskly and started shuffling papers madly. He winced. Was this going to be as painfully difficult as it seemed?
"I'll just need to know your name, and how you'd like to pay," she said competently. "Oh, and what size room you'd like."
"Ah..." Snape's mind worked furiously. How he wanted to pay? How did he want to pay? He wrote his name on the sheet she had handed him and tried to think. How did he want to pay? He decided it was time to risk looking like an idiot.
"I'll pay with this," he said, shoving his muggle money forwards. "And as for the room...a small one, I think, big enough only for myself."
Her eyes widened slightly at the array of money (was that a bad sign?) but she nodded anyway.
"Cash, right. Ah...I'll just subtract your total from this, shall I?"
Snape nodded, hoping his impassive air showed confidence instead of cluelessness. The woman took what looked like a very small amount of money from his bag, and handed him two cards and a stack of brochures.
"These are your room keys, here's your room number, and here are some brochures about the hotel and the surrounding area. Breakfast is served from six until ten every morning, by the way. Enjoy your stay!"
Snape thanked her and waited until he was out of her sight to examine what she had given him. The brochures were normal enough – disgustingly perfect scenes of beaches and people with huge grins on their faces. He looked at his room number for a moment. 218A. Right. So...
The A meant...what, exactly? Floor number, he supposed. Alright, so, first floor, room 218. Easy enough.
Or not. Because after about half an hour of searching, he discovered that there was no 218 on the first floor. Although there were a lot of people giving the strangely-dressed man odd looks. Snape decided to try the second floor.
Ah-ha! Here it was – 216, 217A, 217B...218A That wasn't too terrible. Now he just had to unlock the door and –
– wait. Unlock the door with what? It was clearly locked, no amount of shoving made it budge so much as a centimeter. But this was the most oddly shaped key he had ever seen. It was ... flat. In fact, it looked just like an identification card.
After fifteen minutes, the heavy door seemed to be mocking an extremely irritated Severus Snape. He had tried to make it work, he really had. First, he had taken the key-thing and tried to stick it into door in various ways, even attempting to stick it under the door (after which he spent five whole minutes fishing it out, then realized he needn't have bother, since he had a second key.) He had, in a fit of anger, attempted to kick the door open. He was tired, irritated, frustrated, and his foot hurt. But as he glared at his key, he saw something he hadn't before.
The bloody thing had instructions on it.
He growled in his throat, and after a moment, slid the 'key' through the 'lock.' It unlocked and Snape pushed the door open. He pulled his bags inside and surveyed the room. It isn't a quality wizarding establishment, that's for sure, he thought, but it's decent enough. He sat on his bed for a moment, pondering. Wizard's first job – to fit in with the muggles. With that in mind, he flipped through the brochures and various magazines in the room. One with the huge title of BEACHWEAR – the beach is where it's at! caught his eye.
Apparently, the revolting half-lingerie, half-muggle clothing combinations he had seen were called bikinis. And to his utter disgust, it appeared that almost everyone wore him. Loathsome though it was, Snape now knew how to fit in.
Grabbing a pair of socks and an undershirt, he transfigured them to something a bit like those – bikini-things. He copied a particularly horrid floral print onto them, and admired his handiwork. One thing was for sure – they were about as far from robes as you could get. Shuddering, he quickly stripped off his black outfit and pulled on the revolting green-and-pink floral thing. After several attempts, he managed to keep the top in place. But the bottom half –
Merlin! This is painful! How do they manage to fit in this? It chafes
He grunted. So. This was what it was like being a muggle vacationer.
He'd take Potions Professor any day.
Sitting down on his bed with a sigh and a wince, he continued flipping through the magazine of women wearing different variations on his outfit.
However, when he got to the back of the magazine, he froze. And turned a color he didn't know he could.
Not a single one of the men in the magazine was wearing a bikini.
With a feeling of overwhelming relief (he didn't have to be seen half-naked in public!) he rid himself of the floral monstrosity and transfigured himself something more like what the men in the magazine were wearing. Which is to say that it was a small bit more covering. But no more dignified.
Massaging his temples, Snape leaned back into the bed. If he didn't find a way to get out of here...
It was going to be a long, long week.
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A/N – hope you liked this little tongue-in-cheek chapter! I wanted to make sure there was a bit of fun, because in a few chapters it might get a little dark...and a little inappropriate! chuckle not much, though, because I write for those who appreciate STORIES and PLOTLINES. Like my good friend k8ebug, I encourage you all to report any abuse, such as plagiarism and massive fluff. I'll give out thank-you's next chapter, I promise. Cheers!