“Now, Severus, there are a few things we need to go over,” squeaked Professor Flitwick. “If you get any house numbers from short blondes, you’re to give them to me.” He paused to looked up at Snape, his tiny eyes twinkling with mischief. “And if I happen to meet any tall women with dark, greasy hair and prominent proboscises, I shall give their numbers to you.”
“I can hardly wait,” Snape said without blinking. He followed Flitwick through the door and into the brightly-lit room, then hesitated.
“I won the bet fair and square. Besides, you should know better than to put your Galleons on the Chudley Cannons.”
Snape snarled and let his gaze sweep across the room.
There was almost every type of witch you could imagine there. Short and stout, tall and thin, blonde, brunette, redhead, pink-haired, green-haired, short-haired, long-haired …but none with shoulder-length and greasy black hair.
And on the outskirts, there was a group of anxious-looking warlocks huddled together, muttering amongst themselves. A few turned every once in awhile to see if they could make eye contact with one of the witches. One man made the unfortunate mistake of making eye contact with Snape, and found himself writhing on the floor.
“Staring isn’t polite,” sang Flitwick.
Severus stepped over his body and walked farther into the room, where there sat dozens of tables and empty chairs. The color lilac was draped everywhere. The tablecloths, the banner across the great archway that announced the speed-dating event”even the house-elves wore lilac-colored pillowcases (and none of them looked very pleased with the situation.)
“The Master of Ceremonies must like lilac,” Flitwick said conversationally.
“Clearly.”
“If anything goes wrong, just send up red sparks and I’ll come to rescue you.”
“My hero,” said Snape bitingly, sizing up little Flitwick.
“Ladies and Warlocks,” said a familiar voice that caused Snape’s head to turn with a snap. A man with wavy golden locks swaggered forward onto the stage, his smile so bright and dazzling it could blind even a bat. “Welcome to Wizard Weekly’s four-hundredth semi-annual speed-dating event. I would now like to introduce your Master of Ceremonies for the evening”me.”
“Filius, if you ever wished to perform the Killing Curse, I beg you would choose this moment,” Snape growled, looking dead ahead at Gilderoy Lockhart.
“You mean kill Lockhart?” asked Flitwick, aghast.
“I meant kill me.”
“Oh dear.”
“Ladies, ladies, if you please,” said Lockhart over their applause. He flashed his award-winning smile at the witches, and then turned to the wizards standing in the corner. “Never fear, gentlemen. I know that next to me you all may look rather second-rate in the eye of the ladies. But I assure you that I am a happily engaged man.”
There were dozens of sighs and moans coming from every direction.
“You could cut the estrogen with a knife,” Snape sneered.
“Before we dive in to tonight’s activities””
“Here it comes,” Snape and Flitwick murmured.
“”I’d like you all to take a poll. Who here has read my latest biography, Recovering Me? Show of hands, if you don’t mind.”
All the witches in the room raised their hands immediately. One wizard raised his, but quickly put it down when he noticed all his peers staring at him.
“I see that the ladies have done their homework,” Lockhart’s merry voice shouted over the giggling. “Gentlemen, see me up front after the event is over for a signed copy”20% off retail price. Now, here are the rules for this evening. There will be no Legilimency allowed””
“I told you, Severus,” Flitwick squeaked.
“”and all Time-Turners and Love Potions will be confiscated. Gentlemen, you may have a seat. Ladies, choose your first partner, then when you hear this”” Lockhart brandished his wand in the air. Nothing happened and he tried again. “When you hear this”this”THIS! I must get this wand replaced; an antique, you know.”
Snape flicked his wand in the air, muttered an incantation under his breath, and the tip of his wand began to whistle. He then flicked it again and it stopped.
“Excellent of you to show us that, Severus. Yes, when you hear the whistle, ladies, rotate to your right. Are there any questions? No? Good. Now, on the count of three, you may begin. One, two, three, begin!”
Snape lowered himself into the nearest seat available and waited for whatever nitwit or bimbo that might stumble his way. “Here’s a likely prospect,” Snape said sardonically as a stout witch wearing a rather bad wig took the seat opposite him. It was Holidays with Hags all over again”not that he had ever read the book…honestly.
“’Ello. Well, aren’t you a sallow bloke,” she sputtered. When Snape made no reply, she continued to plough on ahead. “My name is Nanette Crabbish. I enjoy ’iking, transfiguring, and sun-bathing. Do you sun-bathe, Mister”?”
Snape raised a thin eyebrow. “Does it look like I sun-bathe?” he replied coolly.
For a moment the woman was speechless. “Well, oh, I see. Do you knit, then?” she asked, obviously fishing for something in common.
Snape folded his fingers together and leaned across the table. He glared at Nanette for a moment then responded. “Before we discuss such personal matters, Miss Crabbish, let me make a few things very clear to you. Firstly, it is ‘Professor’ or 'sir', not ‘mister’, not ‘chap’, not ‘fellow’, and most certainly not ‘bloke’. Secondly, whether I knit or not is hardly your business.”
“So, you’re afraid of the sun and sharp objects. You’re a vampire then, are you?” she asked. “You must be ’orribly terrified of those silver needles. They’d pierce an ’ole righ’ through your ’eart.”
“Well, well, look who failed Defense Against the Dark Arts. See that mirror just behind me.” She nodded. “See my reflection?”
“Yeah, so?”
Snape closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.
Nanette pulled a Drooble from her red cloak pocket and changed the subject. “I feel nervous if I’m not doing something while I talk. Would you mind if I chewed?”
“By all means,” Snape replied, watching her jaw work like a mad cow on its cud.
“So, do you vampires really live in coffins? Mus’ be dead uncomfortable.” She then blew a large purple bubble and watched with delight as if sailed off into the air.
With a flash Snape’s wand came out and he muttered "Reducto!" in a rather bored voice. The bubble burst into dozens of sticky pieces, landing onto the lady’s head and shoulders. He then muttered another incantation, and when the lady went to brush off the pieces, they stuck fast to her hair and clothing.
“What ’ave you done?” the lady screamed, causing everyone in the room to stop and stare. “My wig! My very best wig! You ruined it, you did. It cost me twenty Galleons!”
“Is that all?” Snape asked, not expecting an answer.
Nanette was just about to open her mouth, probably to let Snape really have it, when he muttered the word “Silencio!” Though the lady moved her mouth, no words came out. She tried and she tried, stamping her feet until her face turned as red as a boiled crab.
“That’s better. Lockhart, shouldn’t you be whistling right about now?” Snape called out of over his shoulder.
“How did you know I was behind y”Naughty, naughty. Legilimency. I see,” he laughed heartily, his brilliant teeth flashing dangerously close to Snape’s face. “Yes. As I was about to say, Toolentius Alarminus!” Nothing happened (though some swore they could see lilac hearts floating from the tip of his wand.) “Toolentius Alarminus! Toolen”Oh, I shouldn’t show off. Let’s do this the Muggle way.” Lockhart then pursed his lips together and let out a weak whistle.
“Pity, Miss Crabbish; we were getting along so well,” Snape sighed as the lady stomped away.
Snape Speed-Dating by Bethywoo
Chapter Notes: Thank you for clicking on the first chapter of "Snape Speed-Dating". And thank you to Amber0_o and liquid_silver for the wonderful beta-ing.
This story takes place the summer after Harry's fifth year, with the assumption that Gilderoy Lockhart has recovered his memory.
And, of course, most of these characters, spells, etc. belong to the lovely JK Rowling...so don't sue me.