"How did you get this?" Severus hissed, anger quickly replacing his shock.
The woman shrugged.
"Barnes and Nobles. I've got all seven. For all intents and purposes, you're supposed to be dead. A snake bites you." She paused. "We're glad that you're not dead, though. Sexy men are dropping like flies these days."
"Se – wait, we? How many of you are there?"
The girl didn't answer him. She was too busy staring at his lips. Rolling his eyes, he shook her slightly.
"You've got a beautiful voice." She whispered. "How is it that you are alive anyway?"
"Miss Granger found the antidote in my pocket," Severus explained distractedly. "You didn't answer my question. How many muggles know about us?"
"Oh, millions, I'd say. By the way, I'm Andie." She extended a hand, which he eyed distastefully until she shoved it in her pocket. "There are at least a hundred just five minutes away from here – and they all have the hots for you."
Severus eyed her warily, slightly confused.
"A Snape fangirl convention." Andie explained.
There can't actually be a hundred, he reasoned, I can oblivate them quickly and come back before Albus notices.
"Take me to this…convention." Severus demanded.
Andie looked slightly worried.
"That might not be too safe for you." She said carefully.
"I can take care of myself." He snapped, annoyed.
A few muggles to beat off? Severus wasn't worried.
Severus was genuinely worried – panicked even. Presently he was running as fast as he could, his robes billowing like crazy behind him, but he couldn't escape the crowds of randy women following him. He'd thought Andie was exaggerating – boy, was he wrong. If anything, she'd underestimated the amount of women there would be. There must have been at least three hundred women bent on raping him, and he'd foolishly left his want in his suitcase, sure he wouldn't need it.
How the hell was he supposed to get out of this?