Disclaimer: JK Rowling had a brilliant idea and misused it at points. I am using her idea and misusing it worse.
AN: So, so, so sorry I haven't updated since forever, but I was busy trying to take care of my life. It sort of worked out. Also working on an original novella. Which doesn't work out just as well as the life thing. But hey, I'll keep trying. Thanks for your wonderful reviews and for the support you offered me and for everything. Now, the show will go on.
And a piece of advice: never trust a fairy, even a well-meaning one.
Harry opened his eyes to find that he was tied up very tightly on a bed and couldn't move. It appeared that his captor liked good and tried methods of binding, as opposed to magic. But the feeling was, nonetheless, very worrying. Not as worrying as a woman in red clothes hovering over him.
"Hi," she said with a smile and a wave. "Guess what?"
Harry didn't want to. But she went on, anyway.
"I'm on your side," she explained. "I really am. Do you know what a Horcrux is?"
"Yeah..." Harry mumbled.
"Good! Well, you have one."
"You do," she said. "Well, more like you are one. Sorry, mate."
"It appears that when Voldemort tried to kill you – the first time, that is – he put a piece of his soul into you. Ironic, isn't it?"
"So, you're carrying around one of the very things that keep him alive. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll remove it."
She prepared her wand and his eyes got larger and larger in worry. She seemed very cheerful and friendly, but he was still tied up to a bed. At least, he assumed it was a bed. It was soft and bed-like. It had to be a bed.
"How?" he squeaked.
"Oh, by shooting an Avada Kedavra at you," she said, just as cheerfully and friendly as before.
Harry nearly had a heart attack – which would have done the job for her.
"But don't worry!" she said, seeing his paling face. "It won't kill you. It might not even hurt. Well, I hope not. Hurt, I mean. Well... I hope it won't kill you, either."
"And then you can go back to your friend. He's tied up in the next room. If you're still alive, that is."
And that's when Harry really panicked.
"Oh, God, oh God, please don't, I'm sure there's some other way to do this, I don't want to die... Not yet, I'm still a virgin..."
She stopped her wand and frowned.
"A virgin, you say?"
"Yeah, yeah," he nodded, very energetically. If this pathetic excuse worked, he'd go for it and stay a virgin his entire life. He didn't pause to think of the irony there.
"Jee," she answered, lowering her wand. "That is a pity. I know of another method to take care of that horcrux with much fewer chances of you getting killed in the process, but we simply don't have enough time for that one. I'm so sorry. But hey, about that virgin problem, would you want me to help you?"
"Um." This wasn't going as planned. "Thanks, but I want my first time to be with somebody special."
The woman in red frowned, then scowled, then raised her wand back up. And growled.
"I am special! Hmpf! Avada Kedavra!"
Hermione polished Snape's shoes. While he was still in them, reading a book and sitting comfortably on the couch. Kiss or no kiss, she was still his slave. No getting away from His Bastardness. She found that she rather resented the whole situation. He kept going from hot to cold in seconds. Forget la dona e mobile. Make it Le Snape e mobile.
"Do you have a..." Hermione stopped.
Well, it was too late to take back her question, which was really along the lines of "do you have a slave fetish?"
"...A book on chirography?"
"I don't recall having one."
"I haven't seen one in your library, either. It's a fascinating domain."
"Why would you need one?"
"Oh... I was just wondering. I have a lot of time to think down here, you know."
"Then get up here."
"Since you asked about a book on writing and my shoes are properly polished, I do believe that I can assign you a different task. You can be my secretary for now and write down some notes as I dictate them to you."
"Alright. Whatever you wish for, master."
Now she knew how Malfoy house elves felt like. Especially as he gave her a look. It probably wasn't as physically painful as a Malfoy cane, but it still did the trick pretty well. She gave a small smile as she sat at his desk, grabbed a quill and some paper.
"Whatever I wish for?"
He let the book down, went to her and kissed her with a naturalness that made her feel as if they'd somehow been in a relationship since forever, but she'd been hit on the head and couldn't remember it due to a special sort of amnesia, which actually changed her memories and made her feel she actually recalled another, Snape-less life. It was a complicated feeling, but this was Hermione and 'complicated' was her domain.
"Um," she mumbled underneath his lips. "This is unexpected."
Well, it sounded better than 'what seems to be possessing you lately?'
He pulled back.
"We were interrupted the last time."
"I never said I wanted it. I was... hesitating."
"Surely you've had enough time to make up your mind by now."
Yes. The time had been sufficient to rethink everything over and over and over again. Which didn't mean that she'd actually come to any real conclusion. Sure, she wanted him, but did she really want it to be like this?... So... casual? Informal? Non-committing, non-anything, strictly informal, strictly superficial, just him and her and no plot line to unite them?...Or was it something more and he was just acting as if it were nothing because... of no reason she could discern, but who knew?
"What do you want from me?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
"I would have thought that I made my intention clear."
"Well... that intention... yes. But what exactly is this? Is it an affair? A relationship? A big lipped alligator moment?"
"Right. You wouldn't know the reference. There's this scene in a movie, where a dog is saved by a singing big lipped alligator, scene which bears nearly no relevance to the plot, is awfully weird and nobody ever mentions it ever again. Or that scene in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, where they go through a horribly creepy tunnel. And nobody ever mentions it ever again. Or..."
"That makes remarkably little sense, Hermione."
"Is this something very weird, that just happens without any reason, without any motivation and about which we'll never talk about ever again after it's finished? One of those awkward stuff that never get told to anybody?"
Hermione suddenly decided that mentioning big lipped alligators was a bad idea. Especially since he was staring at her like that. She wondered briefly if mentioning it was a big lipped alligator moment in itself. So she did the only thing she could think of and continued looking at him as if she'd asked a perfectly coherent and normal question.
"I ask you again, are you proposing that I should marry you?"
"Of course not. Don't take it out of proportion, I was just wondering what it is that you want."
"Looking for a confession of love, then?"
"I want to know where I stand and what I should expect."
"And should I expect you to bolt if I answer wrongly?"
"Stop evading! What is this?"
He paused. She watched him attentively for a clue of any sort and realized, suddenly, that he was uncertain of what he wanted himself. Or at least, she fancied that was it. It took him long enough to think about it. Finally, without a single muscle betraying what was in his heart and soul (but the long silence spoke for itself, really), he answered her.
"It's lust. This is an affair."
"So I should expect that tomorrow morning, if this happens, we shall both feel embarrassed and... never mention it again."
"We can see how things evolve from there."
"Does the answer satisfy?"
"Yes. Now let me think about what I want."
"Haven't you already..."
Now, dear reader, sorry for intruding again upon the storytelling, but you must truly get into the spirit of things. Everything is quiet. Dungeon-y. The only thing buzzing like mad is Hermione's mind, trying to make sense of... whatever she might be having with Severus. She doesn't get it. There's many things that are just insane in the world and we like to pretend that it isn't so by selecting certain elements and sticking them together in an order that seems logical to us. Then we know life has a meaning. We give it that meaning. Unless God does. But we really don't want to go there, do we? Good.
So, imagine this relatively coherent world. It was calm. It was human. It was understandable.
This is what happened.
There was music. All of a sudden, there was music. Getting closer and closer. And closer. It was... It was... Disco. It was honest to God disco music. Old beats, coming through the walls like a big cloud of 80s, completely out of place, completely out of whack, with no logical explanation whatsoever.
Hermione and Severus stared. She, in disbelief. He, with his hand on his wand, ready to react to this unknown thing, if it proved to be a threat.
Then the cloud of Disco reached ground 0 and proved to have a ghost in the middle of it all, singing her heart out, insane, strangely happy and with a weird glow around her. Moaning Myrtle, the new Disco Star of Hogwarts made a pose in front of the two, surprisingly confident.
"I found my vocation!" she cried. "I ROCK!"
She danced. Gods, she danced. Waved her head around in front of her disbelieving audience. Did something with her feet and her hands. Moonwalked. Squeaked in joy. And a light appeared from above, encircling her.
"YES!" she cried. "YES! I'm done here! I'm going to live my life! I have everything I want! Everything I need!..."
And with that, she dissolved into light, leaving the two of them staring stunned into space. Severus spoke first.
"What the fuck?..."
Hermione started chuckling, with a slightly hysterical note to it.
"Big lipped alligator moment!" she cried. He turned his head to stare at her, as she shook with laughter. It was, apparently, her body's way of telling her that she had to cope with something and it didn't have no clue what to do about it.
"The entire world is completely insane," he muttered.
Hermione only laughed harder.
AN: Right. Here's the new chapter. I finally found the time and inspiration to take care of it. :D