A/N: This story was written for my lovely TGS (The Golden Snitch) forum buddy, Kyrie (ValkyrieAce) :D

I apologise in advance for this. I don't ship Snamione myself, but as it was for my buddy, I tried my best. I'm also afraid the concept behind this story isn't too original either. The pick-up lines aren't mine, but I do hope you enjoyed them nonetheless (and warning, some are crude). This is set during Hermione's sixth year.

Thank you to Shiba (ShibaLyfe) for giving me the idea!

CandiDATE 394

"Ow! Ginny, that hurts you know." Hermione tried to pry the ginger-haired girl's hand off her forearm whilst trying to keep up with her brisk pace.

"Well, I wouldn't have to tug so hard if you'd just hurry up," Ginny said.

"I really don't see why I need to go…"

"And that's exactly why you must. Good, the line up isn't too long. C'mon."

Hermione sighed and allowed Ginny to drag her towards the staff table, where a line of giggling girls waited. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were, of course, at the very front, their eyes shining as they fluffed their hair and applied yet another coat of sticky, clear lip gloss.

"You know I think this is stupid and superficial," she said, glaring at her peers.

Ginny finally released her grip. Turning to Hermione, she rolled her eyes and said, "That's the beauty of this program. You don't actually see the person you talk to; it's all through writing. That way, you get to know the personality of the person before dating them."

"But you and Dean are already dating. Why are you here?"

For just a moment, Ginny's smile seemed to falter. "Well… I'd like to see if Dean is a good match for me. I mean, he's quite good to snog, but I'm kind of over talking about Quidditch," she said, before her smile grew. "Anyway, it's all for a good cause, brightening up the mood in the castle after all this You-Know-Who business. Even the professors are getting into it."

Ginny nodded towards the table, and as Hermione followed her gaze, she saw Professor Flitwick jumping up and down, waving around five pieces of parchment. Behind him was Professor Snape, who didn't look as remotely pleased with having to participate in the event.

"I suppose…"

"Besides," Ginny pushed her forward in the line, "this will stop you from moping about my brother."

Hermione didn't have time to swat Ginny–she didn't care that Ron had the poor taste to date the precious Lav-Lav–as the girl pushed her to the table.

"Welcome to the Hogwarts Date-a-thon, where you can find your potential Romeo or Juliet this Valentine's Day," Romilda Vane said, a large grin on her face.

"Thanks! Hermione and I will try it," Ginny said.

Romilda nodded and shuffled through the pile of parchment in front of her. Pulling out a few pieces, she held them out towards them. "You each get five names; if you already have a significant other, they will automatically have been included. Replies will appear on these pieces, and your potential partners will have the twin set they coordinate with. Make sure you don't lose them as they cannot be replaced. Have fun and may you find your true love!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, reminded strongly of Tom Riddle's diary or that Potions textbook Harry seemed to constantly pour over. Ginny didn't seem perturbed, however.

"What? It's school-sanctioned and completely safe. I wonder who you got; could be your Prince Charming in there," Ginny said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione stuffed the pieces of parchment into her book bag.

"About twenty minutes remaining. Remember, light circles with your wands–your intention is to change facial features, not to take out a fellow student's eye."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Professor Flitwick's words, not in the least bit surprised that her peers couldn't grasp the instructions in the first place. Ever since those stupid Valentine's letters had come out, they had been even more unfocused. Still, with the Charms professor trying simpler lessons, it mean that she could finish even earlier and get in some study time.

... If she was allowed to concentrate.

"Oh Won-Won, do you think I'd look prettier as a brunette?"

"You know I prefer blondes, Lav-Lav; I told you in the letter."

"Aww! Such a sweetie-pie! I knew that was you!"

She tightened her grip on her quill as she tried to block out Ron and Lavender's baby talk. Honestly, it was bad enough that they were so affectionate in the common room, and in the Great Hall, and in the Owlery, and in–well, the least they could do was refrain from canoodling in the classroom.

"Ooh, could I try turning your hair blond? I think you'd look so handsome!"

Groaning, Hermione stuffed her Transfiguration study back into her bag. As she did so, her hand brushed against another stack of parchment, and she pulled them out.

Along the top of the first piece of parchment, the words 'CandiDATE 192,' were written in pink, loopy writing. The 'date' itself was emphasised with little hearts, and if Hermione had more energy, she would've groaned again at the awful pun.

Even so, as the sounds of obnoxious giggles filled the room, she realised it wouldn't hurt to see what all the fuss was about.

Picking her quill back up, she glanced around to make sure no one was watching before scribbling a quick, 'Hello.'

The word stared up at her from the page–friendly, but not too friendly. It wasn't demanding, either, so when whoever it was wrote back, they could do so when they weren't in class.

When the reply seeped through, however, she almost spilt ink across the page.

Hi babe... U R a babe, right?

Swallowing, Hermione placed the nib of her quill to the page.

I'm a girl, if that's what you mean.

It wasn't long before the second reply came.

Good! Didnt want a dude. So, want to Slyther-into my bed 2nite?

Groaning wouldn't suffice for that pun. Hermione wrinkled her nose, not sure if the writer was joking–she sure hoped he was. Was it some slang she didn't know?

Pardon?

Did U order sum Felix Felicis? Cause UR about 2 get lucky!

Hermione's cheeks turned crimson, and she looked around the room. No one seemed to be paying her any attention, however.

Y so silent? U shy? I could make U scream louder than a Mandrake if U let me.

With her cheeks now burning, Hermione crumpled up the letter before any more heinous things could come through. How could any male possibly think that kind of thing was okay?

It wasn't, not at all. Picking up the second piece with the title 'CandiDATE 394,' she decided to get in first and teach the males of the school some respect.

Don't you dare ask to explore my Chamber of Secrets or anything like that. It's–

She didn't get to finish her sentence as a reply immediately came through. The sloped writing was almost familiar, and certainly much easier to understand.

How charming. And here I dared hope to be assigned someone who wasn't thirteen years old.

Hermione blinked. Thirteen years old?

I'm not thirteen; I was simply warning you that I won't tolerate such… vulgarity.

What is vulgar is that you are writing during class time.

Her mouth popped open and she shook her head. Was everyone going to be so rude?

I'll have you know I finished my work early.

Good for you.

It is when I'm going to get ahead in life.

The next reply took a little longer to come, but when the next words appeared, it did nothing to lighten her irritation.

Goodness, you sure know how to 'date', don't you? Bragging about yourself?

I wasn't bragging!

Oh?

Well if you're so great, how would you go about it?

And that's what's wrong with people these days. If I told you how to do something, you'd never learn how to do it for yourself, would you?

Hermione dropped her quill and huffed. She had been right all along; this dating thing was stupid. Cheesy pick-up lines were one thing, but having her intelligence insulted?

What made it worse, however, was that he had a point. She prided herself on being an independent thinker, and relying on someone else wasn't part of that.

Perhaps it was that pride that, rather than tossing out the letter, she answered his next question:

Your grammar isn't as atrocious as some replies I've received, so let me ask you this: books or Quidditch?

She would certainly show him.

"I have no idea why you are even in this class."

Hermione froze, and slowly looked up. She was sure that Professor Snape had caught her scribbling, but his dark gaze was focused instead on Ron and Parvati. The pair had seemed to have forgotten that they were in Defense Against the Dark Arts, their lips locked together.

For the first time, however, it didn't seem to bother her, and as Professor Snape returned to marking at his desk, she found her heart fluttering. A small smile appeared on her rosy lips as she read the latest reply from 'CandiDATE 394.'

Tell me, are all students nincompoops? Or is there just a special breed other schools have managed to avoid?

My peers are no better. They seem to think 'kissing' will defend them from a Banshee.

She had speaking to the boy for the past fortnight, and although he could be quite arrogant, he had a way of making her feel better about everything. She felt mature… sophisticated… relieved to be able to have a proper conversation with someone older. She assumed, after all, that he'd have to be a seventh year–going by the giggling that came from where Ron and Lavender were sitting, it was almost impossible to imagine someone in her own year even as remotely mature.

The only problem was that it was the final day of letter exchanges, and she still didn't know who he was. Part of her was dying to have a conversation face to face, to really pick his brain, but another part feared it would lose all its magic. What if, despite his intelligence, he was no different to any other male and preferred a good looking girl?

No, that wouldn't happen. They understood each other, and she'd forever be wondering who he was if she didn't tell him.

"Miss Granger? Care to share what has you smiling like a love-struck Weasley?"

Hermione jumped. Her hands flew to cover the parchment, but it was too late as Professor Snape snatched it up.

Her heart pounded as she stared into his dark orbs. "S-sorry, Professor. I just–"

"Ten points from Gryffindor. This does not belong in my class," he said, sweeping back to his desk.

Her cheeks burned as she realised almost every pair of eyes were staring at her. It didn't stop her from raising her hand, however, and saying, "Sir? Er, could I please–please have my paper back? I need to tell him who I am."

A few students gasped, whilst others giggled. She was sure she heard a muttered, "desperate, much?" from Lavender, but she didn't care. Her eyes were focused on the professor as he glanced down at the parchment.

Professor Snape's face paled slightly as he read the text, and it was a moment before he finally cleared his throat. "Perhaps you should've thought about that before interrupting my class. Oh, but I'm sure he'll know who you are; there are only so many intelligent yet insufferable know-it-alls in this school."

As he returned to his work, Hermione's heart sank. How was she going to find out who the boy was now? She didn't know his age, his house, his name…

All she did know, however, was that she had to get another copy of the parchment, no matter what it took.