A/N: The Red Sox won the World Series and I have updated. It's a week of miracles!

18th April Monday

I was in my classroom, thinking longingly about Miss Granger, as I, my sick, perverted self have come accustomed to do, when my fantasy decided to become a reality and she popped through my door, hair wild, shouting, "I need help!"

I was more than happy to lend her my aid, giving her the instructions she so longed for and sitting myself casually at the table nearby with my usual sour expression on my face, watching her as she began.

She's not exactly what anyone would call a gorgeous girl, but she's pretty in an odd way. Kind of like a hippogriff. They're quite beautiful creatures if you become accustomed to their outrageous oddities and mixed physical traits. Though I doubt a woman would ever swoon if I compared her to a hippogriff. Her hair and the worry marks between her eyebrows make her who she is, and she really isn't very beautiful without them.

Of course, her odd beauty had nothing to do with how badly she was effing up the potion. I suppose my unnoticeable slips of hand didn't help her results, and she stayed, to my satisfaction, for at least three hours.

I finally became aware of the benefits of having a cold classroom.

"Really," she huffed irritably, her cheeks a lighter shade of the red scarf that hung around her neck. "It's the right colour, the right texture…I see nothing unusual about it. Professor, please tell me exactly what you're looking for?"

I had already told her. I am not vague. I mentioned some BS about ruining the element of surprise and told her that if she was so certain that she was right, she wouldn't be afraid to try a sip.

I never actually expected her to do it.

She's quite lucky that I'm in love with her. If she were Potter, Filch would be mopping up her remains right this moment. And I think everyone would be a lot happier.

She seemed surprised at my stab at Malfoy. Honestly, is it so difficult to tell that I hate the boy? Who in their right mind could have any affection for that creature? It sickens me to even pity him.

Does she even know what he says about her?

20th April Wednesday

Dung bombs purchased in Hogsmeade: 3, Number of hands threatened to chop off: 2

Dumbledore once said, in a very elegant, confiding way, that the only reason he was still alive was to "Put an end to destruction, distrust, and gross misdemeanors." Obviously, he has forgotten all about it and is still walking, breathing, and controlling all of our lives likewe arepoorly strung puppets.

As if he hasn't meddled in my life enough as it is, he has announced that he expects everyone to have a "social acquaintance, or, to clarify, a 'date'" for the party. He threatened chaperone duty for the second years on their excursions for the rest of the year.

I was actually very willing to take on the duties of a chaperone. It couldn't be as bad as disgracing myself in front of the entire school with Madam Hooch hanging on my arm yet again. That woman curses too much for my liking, especially after a few too many drinks. I don't know if my sanity will be able to withstand dragging her away from a brawl with one of the suits of armor again.

And Dumbledore must have told her this, the helpful being he is.

"Hello Severus," Hooch slurred as I was walking as quickly as I could, my collar drawn up to cover my face, back to my rooms. I made a pained face and after a few slow steps, came to a stop. Slowly, teeth bared, I turned around.

"Let me guess," I answered dryly. "You want me to be your 'social acquaintance' for the party."

She started to answer but I cut her off.

"Fine. I will be, but only because it's required and I can't think of anyone I'd rather have hanging, literally, on my arm all night. And that wasn't a compliment, it's only because you're the lightest one on the staff. You will dress modestly, you will not initiate conversation, and I will not "pick you up" from your room. I will meet you at the party. If we do not find each other, we will still call each other our 'date' just to get out of trouble in case the need arises. And please, do not come looking for me."

Her hawk-eyes went wide; she looked slightly taken aback.

"Well, all right," she said slowly. "That works. But I just wanted to tell you that it looks like you sat in something. Here, let me dust it off for you…"

25th April Monday

Six days until the Ruby party, and the scene becomes ever drearier.

My subconscious played host to a series of rather odd dreams last night, one in which I was riding a broom and kept feeling offending hands on my backside, one in which Hooch became permanently attached to my arm by some special glue potion, and another in which I was back in the Potions classroom with Miss Granger, babbling nonsense. I believe I tried to kiss her, but I woke up before I could.

Blast.

It's at times like these in which I am glad that mutual dreams do not really exist.

Thanks to: CassandraTheEvil, thefutureMrs.Kaiba, pickles87, Artemis MoonClaw, retarted monkey, emikae, Chugabooe, sallene (Oh, please do), rainbow fuzzlez (ick), Artemis MoonClaw, Silwen Aurdomiel (x10), pricey-blonde, Riannae, Fou Fou, Elnora (dying. No, not really. But I was in a different country for a while), Cowgirl4u2009, artemisgirl, La Regina Phantom (...that's a good idea), MissCatQueen (Things should be moving faster, now. This chapter was giving me problems), Sennica01, and QueenYamcha.

Next chapter: The Ruby Party.