Chapter Four—The Date

It was frightening how fast Thursday arrived, but that was often the case with dreaded events. The more you wished the day to stay away the faster it came, Hermione concluded.

She stood in front of her closet, trying to decide what to wear. She couldn't wear her every day school robes; Merlin's was too nice a restaurant. But neither did she want to wear her nicest and best robes; she didn't want to give Snape any ideas. She finally decided on a set of royal blue robes with a modest matching dress underneath. It wasn't her best but with her hair swept back in a French twist and matching earrings she looked quite nice.

Checking her watch, she quickly grabbed her cloak and hurried downstairs to meet Snape. Or was it Severus? She wasn't really sure what she would be expected to call him tonight. Perhaps she would just avoid the name thing altogether and only speak to him when she had established eye contact. Or there was always 'hey you!'

She found him waiting in the castle entryway looking impatient and surprised to see her. Did he think she wasn't going to show up? Suddenly she felt a little sorry for him. She had given him this gift certificate in the first place because she thought he might not get too many Christmas presents; that he might not have many people to invite along to dinner logically followed. She resolved to be cordial, if not friendly on this date. Well, as long as he was, she amended. After all she had to deal with his disparaging remarks and cutting comments during the week—outside of class was another matter altogether.

"You look…nice," he told her, clearly uncomfortable. Gone was the Snape that so confidently conducted classes, subjecting his students to an hour reign of terror. He had been replaced with the insecure and shy man before her. She smiled demurely at him and took the arm that he offered.

He was wearing the same black that he always wore. Just once she liked to see him wearing some color. Maybe blue or green? She tried picturing him in pink and the subsequent image was enough to make her chuckle out loud. He looked over at her confused.

"I was just thinking of a joke Professor McGonagall told me," she lied quickly. She didn't think he would find it funny to know she had been wondering what he would like in a pink leisure suit.

"Oh really?" he asked expectantly. Hermione panicked. Shoot! He wanted to hear a joke now. She never was very good at telling jokes.

"Ummm right. What do you call cheese that isn't yours?"

He stared at her.

"Nacho cheese! Get it? Not your cheese, nacho cheese."

Apparently he didn't get it.

"Right, well then…" she said, trailing off. This date was off to a fantastic start, she thought. She had already managed to make herself look like a fool and they hadn't even made it to the restaurant yet. She hoped it would get better, or if nothing else that the food was worth the trouble.

&&&&

Severus wished he didn't feel so nervous. It was after all just dinner. He waited for her in the entryway, rubbing his sweaty palms on the sleeves of his robes. For the third time he checked to make sure he had everything…wand, check; Merlin's certificate, check; Hermione's gift, check. It seemed everything was still in order.

Looking up, he watched as she came down the steps. She was wearing robes the same shade of blue as his favorite headache potion. It suited her, emphasizing her large brown eyes. Suddenly realizing he should say something, he stammered a generic compliment and then offered her his arm.

She had pitifully attempted humor on the walk down from the castle to the gate, most likely in an effort to diffuse the awkward tension that was building between them. He reminded himself to stick to serious topics at dinner; he didn't think he could handle too many more of her 'jokes.'

Once at the restaurant, however, things improved somewhat, helped along by the bottle of wine he ordered when they first arrived. They talked about Potions, past and present students, before moving on to his colleagues. The wine had loosened his tongue at that point and he treated her to his opinion on almost every professor.

"The smartest thing you ever did was to walk out of Trelawney's class. Unfortunately some of us aren't as able to avoid her presence," he told her.

"Is that so?" she asked, prompting him to continue. He decided he liked that about her. She had smiled and nodded in all the right places tonight. Her questions were easy segue ways to the next topic or encouragements for him to go on, not at all like the irritating inquiries she subjected him to in class.

"Last week at dinner instead of asking me to pass her the mashed potatoes, she assured Minerva that her Inner Eye had foreseen me passing them to her," he said derisively.

"Did you? Pass them to her I mean?"

"Well I started to but then decided it would be more fun to drop them instead."

"Which I'm sure she predicted as well," she said sarcastically.

"That much was inevitable, but it was worth it to see her saying it with bits of mashed potato on her cheeks and nose."

She chuckled and he decided that he liked the sound. He couldn't remember the last time he had made a woman laugh; he didn't count the times they had laughed at him.

Giving her the gift he had bought, he noted with pleasure at how she had oohed and aahed over it. Though he didn't think Hermione Granger had ever encountered a book that she hadn't liked.

'Yes,' he thought, 'this night is progressing well.' Not once had he been tempted to hex or strangle her, although he did have to restrain himself from making caustic comments at some of the things she had said. Old habits die hard after all.

TBC

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! Keep 'em coming.

June: I mention that Hermione doesn't often overindulge in alcohol so she wouldn't have one prepared beforehand and she would feel too sick and possibly too embarrassed to ask for one. And who's to say that one might work; we don't know for sure what those wily Weasleys put in that eggnog. Thanks for the review!