Harry Potter stumbled into the Great Hall, his glasses still a little fogged from the shower he'd just taken.* He tried to find his normal seat, only to realize that Ron wasn't awake yet. Instead, he sat beside Hermione, who nodded at him, lost in her books.
It all started with Colin Creevey. He was asking Ginny Weasley out (no matter that she already had a boyfriend). With floating flower wreathes, and a musical serenade, and a "heartfelt" poem. It was both ostentatious and awful. Harry, had he been asked, would have told Colin to do it anyplace but the Great Hall.
Ginny stood up and said, "No, I will not attend the Yule with you." All the soap opera needed was for Colin Creevey to leave the room in a mass of tears. Luckily the world wasn't that mad.
But that wasn't the bad part - it only opened the floodgates.
Every Gryffindor girl - and there were a bunch, decided to crowd down the table towards Harry. Even Ginny, who was mostly alright. (Except Hermione, who both wouldn't, and was sitting beside him anyway). "Harry!" asked one 4th year girl, and, a bit wary, Harry looked up, his face rapidly acquiring the look of the hunted. "Will you go to Yule with me?" Harry abruptly realized that that was what all the girls were here for. It wasn't 4th year, he didn't need to take anyone, he wanted to shout. But, as this was the Great Hall, he also didn't want to disrupt everyone's breakfast. Instead, he buried his face in treacle tart,
Carefully looking not left nor right he lifted his eyes off the next bite of trifle.
Shite, the Hufflepuffs! Sue and Hannah at the forefront, but everyone above 2nd year (thank god fo rthat!) was trumping up towards him.
Another 4thyear Gryff said to the first, "I d on't believe you asked him! Just like that?"
"What, was I supposed to have waited? and what if he accepted with someone else in the meantime?" The first responded. Was her name Amaryllis?
Harry slowly turned his head, noting that everywhere in front of him was effectively blocked by girls.
Suddenly, from behind his head, Harry heard a very familiar voice. A snide voice. "Hasn't anyone ever told you girls that romance is better done in the evening? All this fuss over Mister Potter," Snape sneered, "I may lose my breakfast. Potter, don't you have my class to prepare for?" Harry, taking the hint, scrambled to his feet.
"Shite!" Harry said, trying to look panicked. And then, working harder on it, he was actually panicking about not looking panicked. Short of a pensieve, he figured that would have to do.
"That will be one detention for language, Mister Potter, and another for ruining my breakfast." Snape said snidely.
Harry wheeled about, his nose nearly buried in Snape's chest (but Snape, of course, would not back up.) "But I didn't do anything!"
Snape's voice sounded as dry as a dessicant, "No, these girls have no reason to believe you might fancy them, none at all. You haven't sent longing glances towards them, or smiled rogueishly at them, or flirted with them." Snape's tone showed patent and obvious disbelief through sarcasm. But, damn it all, Snape was helping. Both because people loved to hate Snape, and because Snape was making true points. "Add on another two detentions, one for cheek and one for sheer stupidity."
Harry Potter brushed past Snape - making his robes swish with the light contact. He stormed out of the Great Hall, and headed upstairs to get his Potions homework. His competed potions homework.
*Dank, musty old castle. No air conditioning, just outside air seeping in.
[a/n: leave a review. For however helpful Snape was bieng, Harry does now have four detentions.]