A/N:
Thank you to those who've read, reviewed, followed, and/or added to faves! It tickles me to know people are enjoying this bit of silliness.
-AL
Lights, Camera, ACTION!
TAPE THREE:
SEVERUS SNAPE
Severus Snape checked again to ensure he looked exactly as he wanted to – that his frock coat was free from wrinkles or stains, that it was buttoned up to his neck, that his sleeves came down halfway over his hands, and that his trousers were zipped – before leaning 'casually' against his desk and facing the camera.
"You don't look natural," said Minerva McGonagall, who was setting up the tripod. She'd borrowed it from Albus, who'd borrowed it from Andromeda Tonks, who'd initially found it in Nymphadora's bedroom.
"Facing the bed," Albus had said with a hint of a smile. "I assume this indicates that her relationship with Remus Lupin is both progressing well and has moved beyond the 'friendship' stage."
"You're a dirty old man," Minerva had scolded. But then she'd asked if she could 'have a look' at the Muggle technology herself, and upon discovering the craze sweeping their world, she could think of no one better suited for a dating video than her friend and colleague, the potions master.
"I feel like a fool," confessed Severus. "This will not be successful, and can only open me up to scrutiny and ridicule. What sort of women seeks a man through this sort of medium? Why have the anonymous personals columns fallen from favor? That is how my mother met my father. Though it was a Muggle paper, not the Prophet. The method worked fine, is what I'm saying. Why tamper with tradition?"
"Why, indeed, when we can only hope for you to have as happy a marriage as that of Eileen Prince." Minerva tutted and moved closer to him, to fuss with his attire. "If you weren't buttoned up more securely than Azkaban…"
He shrugged her off like a child being primped by his mummy. "I happen to feel most comfortable when buttoned up!"
"Don't mention that in your video." She pinched his cheeks, hoping to bring some color to them, but he swatted at her hands.
"What shall I mention?"
"Your age, profession, height… women seem to like a tall man… Keep it simple and be honest. Perhaps share a hobby or two, something that makes you unique. List what you're looking for in a woman."
"A pulse," he said, sneering. "I set my standards low; I hardly have room to be picky."
"Stop that Severus, dear. Surely you're seeking a woman who's capable of doing more than breathing independently? Come, come, sit." She patted his desk. He settled on the edge. "You must have been attracted to a woman at some point in your life, yes?"
"I suppose." His brow furrowed. He was thinking of a certain ginger Gryffindor, but naturally he'd not reveal that to Minerva, of all people.
"And what did you fancy about her?"
"Hair. Eyes. Torso. Hands. Breasts."
"Yes, yes, I'm sure she had all the regular body parts." Minerva sighed and rolled her eyes. This was nearly as painful as trying to teach that bumbling babbling baboon Ronald Weasley to dance before the Yule Ball. At least, this time, she wasn't likely to leave the room with bruised toes. "As a person, though, Severus. What did you fancy about her as a person?"
"She was…" He pictured her. Ginger hair. Green eyes. Slender, but not waifish. Small hands, good with both a wand and when stirring a cauldron... but then tried to go beyond, to the core of who she was, even though it hurt his heart to do so.
"She was brilliant. Kind-hearted. Independent. Headstrong. She did not judge people on their looks or natural abilities, but on their actions, the way they treated others. She tried to see the good in everyone, including me, even when I had very little good left. She wouldn't allow anyone to best her without a fight, nor would she allow herself or anyone around her to be bullied. She was confident, but she had a quiet vulnerability she rarely displayed, except to her closest friends. She was fearless. She was… good. Genuinely good. And, fiercely, she loved."
He folded his hands and faced the floor. The sneer he'd been wearing dissipated, leaving a look of great sorrow in its place.
"But she's gone, now."
"I'm sorry," said Minerva softly. "She sounds like a beautiful person."
"Inside and out," he agreed. He stood. "I can't do this."
"Of course you can! Sit, sit!" She manhandled him back to his desk perch. "You want a kind-hearted woman who sees the good in everyone, one who judges people for their actions and not their looks or natural abilities, one with… with hair, eyes, hands, and breasts. Yes?"
He couldn't help a chuckle from escaping his lips.
"Something to that effect."
"Let's try it, then, eh? What's there to lose?"
"My dignity."
"It was a rhetorical question." She positioned herself behind the camera and pressed the Record button, just as Albus had shown her, as Andromeda had shown him.
"Good evening."
"No, stop, no good."
"No good? All I've said is, 'good evening!'" He appeared highly affronted. "What's wrong with that?"
"You don't know she'll be watching in the evening. If she is, it will seem invasive for you to know as much. If she's not, it'll distract her from your next words. Try, 'hello.'"
"I rarely say, 'Hello.' Too common. Too informal."
"Try 'Wotcher.'"
"Am I trying to chat up Nymphadora? I could do that without a video; she's at Headquarters all the bloody time, panting after the werewolf."
"Skip the pleasantries, then. Go straight into it."
"That's how my dates usually go," quipped Severus dryly. "Skip the pleasantries, get straight into it. But they cost by the hour."
"Severus Snape!" Minerva gasped, scandalized. Surely he wasn't saying he typically hired women to-
"Relax, Minerva. I was being sardonic."
"Well, stop being sardonic. Say, 'Greetings,' if you must. Then straight into your introduction: My name is Severus Snape. I am the professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of–"
"Yes, I believe I can manage my name and occupation without prompting, thank you."
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if counting to ten, while he waited.
"Let's start again. Greetings…"
"Greetings. My name is Severus Snape. I am the professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I have been employed since 1981, though I have long felt I deserved the potion of Defense Against the Dark Arts instruct-"
"Is this video being presented to unwed witches seeking wizards, or are we handing it over to Albus after we've finished with the hope of securing you a new position?"
Severus scowled.
"I'll start again."
"Please do."
There was a three second pause, then Severus went in for another attempt.
"Greetings. My name is Severus Snape. I am the professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I have been employed since 1981. I am thirty-six years of age, just under six feet tall, and a Capricorn – which means I'm serious, independent, and determined, if you abide by that vapid rubbish. As far as I am aware, I have sired no bastards, and-"
"Merlin's beard, Severus!" Minerva folded her arms. "While I am certain there are women who will appreciate your lack of illegitimate children, it's hardly a selling point when put that way!"
"I'm being honest. You directed me to be honest."
"Be less honest."
He exhaled deeply. "Very well. Let us begin again."
"Alright. Whenever you're ready."
"Greetings. My name is Severus Snape. I am the professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I have been employed since 1981. I am thirty-six years of age, just under six feet tall, and a Capricorn – which means I'm serious, independent, and determined, though I personally put little stock in astrological signs. I have never been married and thankfully have no children as of yet…" Catching Minerva's discerning eye, he quickly added, "Though I would not be averse to them in the future."
She smiled approvingly and nodded. He went on.
"I enjoy a quiet sort of life. My days are spent in a classroom in front of dunder... er... students. Molding the impressionable minds of young learners."
Minerva nodded again.
"My evenings are primarily spent at home by the fireplace, or having an intimate dinner with close friends, though I do volunteer in a couple of part-time positions after grading homework is done. I enjoy reading, mystery novels in particular. Brewing potions is both part of my livelihood and a passion. I drink Earl Gray and red wine – not at the same time, of course – and I embody several quintessentially Slytherin qualities: ambition, cunning, self-preservation, and intense loyalty directed only toward those for whom I care."
Severus faltered, momentarily distracted, because behind the camera, Minerva was making what looked like an obscene gesture with both hands. It took a second to realize she was outlining a woman's form in the air, then pointing from her eye to him. (What are you looking for in a woman?)
"Oh! Erm..." He cleared his throat. "I am seeking an intelligent, honest woman for fascinating conversation to help break from the tedium of everyday life, one with whom I can engage in an impassioned debate about the topics of the day without either of us resorting to pettiness or pouting. I need a woman who is well-read and politically savvy, one who has internalized the meaning of the words 'decorum' and 'discretion,' and one who does not mind forearm tattoos." He tugged awkwardly at his left sleeve. "Though I'd prefer she not have any herself."
Minerva waved her hands, a nonverbal cue to wrap it up.
"Bonus points for the Hogwarts House of your choice if you have ginger hair or green eyes. That is all. Thank you for your consideration. Cordially, Severus Snape."
He slipped off the desk.
"Am I done now?"
"I'll erase those errors at the start and send it in!" said Minerva, beaming. "I'm proud of you, Severus."
"If that's the truth, Minerva, I may not be the only person in this room who doesn't have high standards."