Author: Walter O'Dim

Title: Sunstroke

Category: Romance/Humour
Rating: K+
Summary: An upsurge of solar activity leads to most unexpected consequences...Hagrid/Snape/Harry (alternative OotP).

Chapter Six

A Failed First Date

By morning Hagrid's anger had subsided, and he wrote a note to Harry, Ron and Hermione:

"Dear Harry, Ron and Hermione,

I'm sorry I treated you like that yesterday. I don't know what got into me. You're welcome to visit my house at any time.

Hagrid"

Harry received the note at breakfast and was at first reluctant to accept Hagrid's apology, but under Ron and Hermione's pressure he admitted that what had happened last evening was partly his fault and sent Hagrid an answer containing his own apology, and the diplomatic relations were thus restored.

Hagrid spent the day in anticipation. When darkness finally descended upon the grounds, he dressed into his horrible suit, combed his hair, leaving more pieces of comb in it, poured some cologne under his collar (he had thought of taking a bath again, but decided that two baths in a row would be too much) and left his cabin. The evening was beautiful and romantic: the smell of grass and the music of crickets filled the cool air, the grounds were suffused with moonlight, and at the foot of the Astronomy tower two boys from Gryffindor were cornering a Ravenclaw girl with unclear intentions. Hagrid was feeling elated: in just twenty minutes or so he and Snapey would be strolling through these grounds together! Hagrid's heart pounded madly in his chest as he approached Snape's office. He halted in front of the door, took a deep breath and knocked.

"Enter," said Snape's annoyed voice.

Hagrid did. Snape, who was standing beside one of the shelves, frowned at the sight of him and drew back ever so slightly.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, blushing. "Sorry to disturb yeh, but, uh, would yeh happen to have – er – some Sober-Up Potion? On'y I seem to have run out of it."

"No, I don't have Sober-Up Potion," said Snape in an even more annoyed voice. "I suggest you see Madam Pomfrey about that."

"Oh – right," said Hagrid, red as a beetroot now. Glancing at Snape's desk, he said, "Er – I see yeh've got a lot of homework to grade, Professor."

"Not really," said Snape. "It's only the second day of the term, after all. Is there anything else you need, Hagrid?"

"Er -" the suggestion to take a walk in the grounds died on Hagrid's tongue as he observed the Potions master's angry countenance. "Er, no," he croaked. "Ah – sorry if I disturbed yeh. I'll – I'll jus' go, then."

His face burning, Hagrid turned and left. Snape looked after him for a few seconds with a frown, then went back to what he had been doing when Hagrid interrupted him – namely, pacing his office like a caged tiger.

Hagrid got back to his cabin, barely taking in his surroundings, slumped onto his bed and covered his face with his hands. The way Snapey had looked at him! "He's still angry at me," thought Hagrid in dismay. "Maybe…maybe he'll never love me!" The thought was so unbearable that Hagrid got drunk again.

"Fang," he moaned as he lay on the floor, "I've failed ter ask Snapey out. The way he looked at me…I jus' couldn't…he's still angry at me, Fang!" sobbed Hagrid. "What if never falls in luv wiv me?"

"Nonsense," said Fang's voice. "You just have to go about it the right way. If he's still angry at you, do something pleasant for him. Did you bring him a present?"

"No, I didn'…"

"See? No wonder your first attempt was a failure. Honestly, I don't know what you'd do without me, Hagrid. Before seeking his love, you must win his forgiveness."

"Yeh didn' mention it the firs' time…"

"I thought it was self-evident," said Fang in a haughty voice. "Just do as I say, Hagrid, and soon Professor Snape will not be able to imagine his life without you. It is as certain as the fact that you are drunk as a lord right now."

"Say, Fang," croaked Hagrid, "why is it that yeh only ever talk ter me when I'm drunk?"

"It's hard to explain," said Fang. "Perhaps being drunk relocates your Assemblage Point, allowing you to perceive things the way a dog does. Or maybe I don't even talk at all. Maybe what you perceive as my voice really comes from your own head, if you prefer a psychoanalytical explanation."

"What explanation?"

"Never mind," Fang sounded annoyed. "It's best not to delve too deeply into such things, Hagrid. Does it really matter, as long as I help you win the favour of your beloved Potions master?"

"No…no, 'course it doesn't," muttered Hagrid, relieved. "S long as yeh help me -"

And he fell asleep again.