What day be it?
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, yada, yada
This fic is in response to WIKKT Piracy Challenge. Rules include: Talk Like a Pirate Day, Rum, a Pirate Pick up Line, and Something Piratey cheering Hermione up on her birthday. Hope you like it!
Hermione sighed as she seated herself at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Harry and Ron had not yet arrived and she was somewhat anxiously awaiting them. Moodily, she grabbed a piece of toast and began lightly buttering it when she noticed them enter the room.
Setting down her toast she folded her hands neatly on the table and stared at them the whole way as they made their way over and sat down. Harry and Ron exchanged confused glances.
"Er…'Mione. Why are you staring at us like that?" Harry asked, clearly baffled.
She scoffed. She couldn't believe they had forgotten again. It would be a perfect record now of forgetting every year.
"Don't you boys even remember what day it is?" she asked in a reprimanding tone.
Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron.
"Oh, yeah, Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "We did forget!" he continued, causing Hermione's downed spirits to lift slightly.
"We did?"
"Yeah, don't you remember? It's Talk Like a Pirate Day! Dean Thomas has been going on about it for ages now, remember?"
"Oh yeah!" Harry said, remembering. "Hey thanks, Hermione," he said tapping her hand across the table. "We nearly forgot, and Fred and George were going to mail Gryffindor Tower some rum today to celebrate! C'mon Ron, lets get up there!"
When Hermione didn't budge, Harry looked back. "You coming?"
"No thanks," she sighed. "You two go on ahead."
"Are you sure?" Ron asked.
She nodded and they left. Quietly, she resumed her toast buttering. She couldn't believe they forgot her birthday…again.
Hermione entered the dim potions classroom and took her customary seat next to Neville and began removing her cauldron and ingredients from her bag. Soon, more students began filing in and Harry and Ron were at the tail end of the group, clearly having a good time.
"Arr, lad. Are ye ready for some jolly good potion brewin time?" Ron jokingly commented to Harry.
"Shiver me timbers!" he replied. "Be it that time already?" Harry grinned and winked at Hermione who rolled her eyes. Clearly, they still had not remembered her birthday and had already snuck into some of that rum of Fred and George's.
"Where be your enthusiasm, ye bonny lass?" he inquired. Hermione fixed him with a steely glare that wasn't wholly necessary since Professor Snape chose that moment to sweep into the room.
"Potter, that's 10 points from Gryffindor for misuse of proper English," he scorned, not even glancing back at Harry's hateful stare, and began scrawling instructions for a restorative draught on the blackboard.
Hermione, being glad her friends weren't pirate talking at her any longer attempted to peacefully work on her potion, pretending it most definitely was not her birthday. She gently diced the shrivelfig, ignoring the "arrs" and "yohoho's" from the table in front of her. She glanced over at the Slytherin side of the room to see that even Malfoy had pirate fever, and was attempting to impress Pansy Parkinson by explaining how he was going to send Harry to "Davy Jones Locker".
Hermione added three strands of unicorn hair to the draught and began stirring counterclockwise. She had to stir exactly 55 times counterclockwise in order for the potion to have the strongest effect.
49...50...51...
"Arrr, Hermione. You be puttin the shiver in my timber. What say you pay a visit to the captains cabin tonight?" a loud Weasley voice interrupted her counting. She tried to remember what number she had been on and decided to add a few more stirs to hopefully make it close, except she accidentally started stirring clockwise and her potion turned from the neon green shade it was supposed to take on to a duller pale blue.
Glaring, she looked up at Ron, who was completely oblivious to her ruined potion. "Yarr, sure!" she practically spat. "And while I'm at it I'm going to bury your cutlass in your own scabbard you scurvy dog!"
Where had that come from 'Mione? she wondered. She had no clue she knew how to talk like a pirate. Ron looked scandalized.
"Was only joking…" he mumbled and turned back around. Hermione started to feel bad that she had exploded on one of her best friends but quickly forgot about it when she heard an icy voice speak out to her.
"Miss Granger," Snape hissed, loud enough for the whole classroom to hear. "If you are going to insist on making derogatory, not to mention inappropriate comments, on Mr. Weasleys …ahem…cutlass, no matter how valid they might be…" Snickers from the Slytherin side at that last. "I'm going to have to deduct points…20...from Gryffindor…and a detention tonight at 7:00pm." He glared down daring her to retort.
"But sir, its my…"
"30 points then!" he snapped and walked away. This is definitely going to make my all time favorite birthdays list, she thought scornfully.
After handing in an all but restoring restorative draught, having both Harry and Ron constantly ask her what her problem was, getting her ears hexed off from a botched spell by Neville in charms, and having to rewrite her transfiguration essay three times because she was too distracted, Hermione was ready to serve her detention.
Huffing and puffing she approached the large oak door with a minute to spare. At least something happened the way it was intended. She pushed open the door to find Snape leaned over a stack of parchments scribbling furiously. As her shadow approached his desk and began to block his light, he looked up.
"Congratulations, Miss Granger, you have earned yourself the right to scrub cauldrons…first year cauldrons."
Hermione groaned inwardly and headed for the stack of dirty cauldrons.
"And by the way Miss Granger," Snape started, causing her to turn and face him. "A 76 on your essence of unicorn essay. Not your best work," he stated simply setting down a thick roll of parchment to his left and turned back down to his other essays. Hermione felt like she was going to cry. A 76? Was he just being that insufferable on purpose?
Leaning into the first cauldron and inhaling the putrid sent of burnt shrinking solution she began to scrub effortlessly at the sides. She was so worked up that every time the sticky stuff wouldn't come up from the bottom she would have to fight a little harder to hold back the tears that were brimming in her eyes. Thank Merlin Snape was too busy decorating their papers with red ink to notice.
Hermione started to sniffle a bit after scrubbing at a particularly troublesome spot. It just wasn't fair. It was her birthday.
"Miss Granger I suggest if you have a cold to find yourself some tissue before you drip all over my cauldrons," he said without even bothering to look up.
That Bastard! she thought, and all at once she started to sob, not caring any longer. It took her a while to notice the looming shadow overtop of her, but she didn't care.
"Miss Granger!" Snape hissed, disgusted. "Stop that infernal racket this instant!" When she didn't comply he threatened to give her another detention.
"Like I care," she spat in a most uncharacteristic manner. Then, she added almost inaudibly. "Its my birthday…"
"I fail to see how it being your birthday makes you eager to earn extra detentions." he said sarcastically.
"Harry and Ron forgot…"she mumbled wondering why she was even bothering to explain. "And they've been talking like stupid pirates all day…"
"Oh, surely the boy wonder didn't forget his best friends birthday. What a pity."
Hermione wasn't even listening, only rambling. "At least I know you aren't going to spout off with 'Aye Matey!' or 'Arrrr' every ten seconds."
"Miss Granger, I assure you , the moment I talk like a pirate…"He said the word like something slimy. "…will be the moment I am no longer of sane mind."
Hermione almost smiled at his comment. Snape speaking pirate would indeed be a worthy cause for a visit to St. Mungo's.
"If you are expecting "The Chosen One" to allow a thought of anyone else to enter his overly inflated head, Miss Granger, you are going to be waiting for a long time."
Hermione glared at him. He knew she wouldn't take kindly to his insulting her friends.
"The cauldrons, Miss Granger," he sneered.
Hermione grumbled and got back to her work. She hated more than anything to admit it, but Snape was right. Harry and Ron were never going to remember her birthday as long as Talk-Like-A-Pirate Day was around. Better to move on and forget about it.
Finally, after her fingers were swollen and sore and she smelled like a restaurant cook, she threw the scrubber in the last cauldron and asked to be excused.
All she got was a nod in reply, and she headed for the door.
"Miss Granger…"Snape spoke from behind just before she reached the door, causing her to turn. He seemed to war with himself before speaking. "If ye should need assistance hornswaggling those scurvy dogs tomorrow, I'd be happy to give 'em the Davies."
Hermione actually laughed out loud at the absurdity of his comment. The expression on Snape's face was then replaced by a dark, intimidating one.
"And if you tell another living soul about that…"
"…they wouldn't believe me in a million years," added Hermione and exited the dungeons feeling considerably happier than she had all day.
AN: I actually really don't like this story too much. It's just the stories I write that I do like, never end up getting finished so I don't post them. Just no flames please!