WLTM

A/N: This is a warning that in this chapter, Severus is having sex (crap, boring sex) with a whore, not Hermione. If you don't like the idea of it, get over it. Its just part of the plot. I love Severus and Hermione and you just know they will be 2getha 4eva eventually!


*******

Severus stared at Lulu. Her blonde curls were shaking around her head and her scarlet lips wrapped themselves around various syllables of false enjoyment, giving the impression of an impending orgasm. She was bouncing around on the end of his cock with an enthusiasm that didn’t meet her eyes, her surgically-enhanced breasts hardly moving, their nipples like two cherries atop a pair of large, round iced buns.

And Severus really couldn’t be bothered.

‘Lulu…’ He sighed.

‘Yes, big boy?’ She purred.

‘Stop. And get off.’ He stated flatly.

‘You sure?’ Lulu dropped the pretence and as she acknowledged his glare, she shrugged and clambered off him in an ungainly fashion.

Severus stood and fastened his fly. He opened up his leather money pouch and counted out 50 galleons, throwing them onto the bed.

‘For your trouble.’ He nodded at Lulu, whose eyes had brightened at the sight of his money.

‘But we didn’t finish up…’ She pouted. She liked her clients to leave satisfied and took pride in a job well done.

‘It wasn’t you, Lulu, it was me. I’m bored with whores, even talented ones such as yourself.’ He gave her a small, tight smile.

‘Pity.’ Lulu grinned. She had always enjoyed his visits, he could go for ages and she was usually guaranteed at least one orgasm. It didn’t happen with many clients.

‘Indeed.’ Severus nodded. He didn’t understand it either. He just needed…something else.

Lulu sighed wistfully as he walked out of the room without even a backward glance. She knew she wouldn’t be seeing him again.


*****


Hermione closed her front door and sighed. She mentally counted in her head and realised with horror that she had just endured her nineteenth unsuccessful date. She smirked ruefully to herself. At least this one had been a bit different, although not in a good way.

The bad breath she had sort-of expected. The poor dress sense, the boring conversation? She had suffered those before. His request for her to wear her school uniform on the next date? Now, that was a new thing. She took a deep breath and thanked Circe for the conveniently placed apparition point in the ladies toilets, a useful escape route for a cornered witch.

Hermione lifted the magazine from her coffee table and read through the advert again. How false it all was. And how sad that she understood all the little abbreviations now without having to think about it.

WLTM = would like to meet.

GSOH = good sense of humour.

VGL = very good looking (Hermione had found this wasn’t always true).

She put a large red cross through the last circled entry. With despair she realised she had come to the end of the list and her eyes lingered on the half-page advert she had been trying to avoid for the past month.

‘Valentine Passiflora’s Lonely Hearts Inc.’, the headline read. The advert went on, in unnecessarily flowery terms, to say ‘If you’re not getting any, Get It Here.’

Hermione snorted. She had received plenty of offers of IT. Most of the dates she had been on had ended in offers of IT. She wanted more than just IT.

Not that she had ever had IT, but she didn’t just want IT.

She wanted the works. Love, passion and IT. Not fumbling, rushing and IT.

She read through the advert again and took a deep sigh.

‘What the hell…’She muttered.

*****

A/N: Here we go again... they won't leave me alone! R & R, if you have the time. Thank you!