Chamber of Secrets

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DancingMaenid August 6th, 2005 9:47 pm

TheForce, the thought of Snape adopting a dog is hilarious! Good job!

thestralgrin, the Avocado Cadaver was great! :D

~~~~

The Computer


"I'm afraid I have some news that shall upset you all greatly," Voldemort said, "I'm afraid with my recent schemes, we have no more time for movie nights, so our movie nights will have to be postponed for the time being."

Severus was never happier to be skilled at Occlumency. He was able to feign sadness at this news far more convincingly than the others. Though, he suspected Wormtail's tears were genuine, as he had always seemed to enjoy the obnoxious muggle entertainment.

"You know," Bellatrix said, frowning, "I was finally starting to enjoy those films. The one where the zombies killed all the muggles was rather...entertaining."

"I believe you shall all agree that the sacrifice is worth it once I inform you of my latest scheme," Voldemort said, "You see, I recently became aware the muggles often use objects called 'computers', and with these computers, they're able to access something called 'the web'. It would appear that anyone with one of these computers can have some amount of control over this web."

"A web?" Lucius said, "You mean, like a spider web?"

"I am not sure at this moment. You see, I've purchased a muggle computer, and have managed to gain access to this web. I hear that there is an evil on the web that pagues muggles. Something called 'spam'. I want to take advantage of this. Unfortunately, I do not have the time to discover the secrets of the web myself, and cannot discover what this 'spam' is, so I am entrusting that responsibility to you. This afternoon, while I'm out, you shall work together to discover how I may use this muggle contraption to control the muggles, and when I return, you shall show me your findings. Severus will be in charge, and will be the one to actually handle the computer."

Bellatrix scowled. "Why Severus? Why not me?" There was a definite hint of whining in her tone.

"Because," Voldemort said, "Severus is half-blood, so we can assume that he is capable to understanding how the simplistic minds of muggles work."

Severus supressed a sigh. He suddenly wished he hadn't gotten out of bed that morning. "Um, I guess it doesn't matter that I've never even touched a computer in my life?"

"No," Voldemort said, "it doesn't. Now, I should make it clear that I trust you all immensely, and will be extremely...displeased if any of fail to succeed in this mission. Especially you, Severus."

After Voldemort left, they ventured into the dimly lit study and stared at the computer for a moment. Voldemort had already turned it on, which Severus was glad for since he had no idea what all the buttons did. After around an hour, Severus managed to access the web which Voldemort had mentioned. He suspected it would've been much easier had the others not been standing over his shoulder, shouting directions in his ears.

"So, now what?" Bellatrix said.

"Look at that," Lucius said, "It says, 'mail'. Click on that!"

"Lucius," Severus said, "the Dark Lord said nothing about reading his mail for him."

"Oh, come on!" Bellatrix said, "It's not like he'll ever know!"

Reluctantly, Severus entered into the Dark Lord's mailbox. At first, it appeared empty, but then, in the corner, he said something the 'spam folder'.

"Maybe that holds the secret of spam!" Wormtail said.

"Gee," Lucius said, "you think? What are you waiting for, Severus? Check it out!"

There was one piece of mail to be found in the spam folder, and Severus read it out loud to keep the others from leaning over his shoulder.

"It says, 'Greetings, my name is Feeeziln Fattanp, and I am the King of Bogustonia. I have a large amount of money that I need to transfer out of the country, and I would be much honored if you would allow me to transfer it to your bank account...' Strange, I've never heard of Bogustonia. I think he made it up."

"Maybe that's what spam is," Bellatrix said, "Maybe it's when muggles pretend to be royalty from imaginary countries."

Lucius snorted. "Well, I don't see how that would be any help to the Dark Lord. At least we've discovered what it is, though. We'll just have to think of a way to tell him without letting on that we read his mail...."

"Eh, that can't be too hard," Bellatrix said, "We have plenty of time. Let's see what else is on the web! Hey, look at that, on top of the screen there. It says, 'Play thousands of fun games, for free!' Let's try that!"

"No!" Lucius said, "Click on that other one. I want to read my free horoscope!"

"Oooh!" Wormtail said, "Great deals on celebrity memorbilia! Maybe they have Stubby Boardman posters!"

Severus stood up. "Forget this! I'm not your slave; if you want to do all this stuff, do it yourself!"

Severus left the room, and was almost at the bottom of the stairs when he heard a loud crash. Hurrying back into the room, he was horrified to see the computer lying on the floor, smoking. Wormtail was hiding behind a chair, Lucious looked like he was in shock, and Bellatrix had her wand in her hand and an angry look on her face.

"What happened here?!" Severus said, staring at the damage.

"It was Bellatrix!" Lucius said, "She got impatient and kept clicking that plastic mouse thing because it wasn't working fast enough for her, and it stopped working! Then she hexed it!"

"She murdered the Dark Lord's computer!" Wormtail said.

"Well," Bellatrix said, "it was a stupid computer! Anyway, it's not like I'll get in trouble. Severus was in charge, so it's all his fault!"

"I'm not taking the blame for this!"

"Wait!" Lucius said, "I think I know what we can do so that none of us get in trouble. I heard something about muggle computers once. They get sick sometimes, with viruses. And then they crash. We'll say that's what happened; the computer got sick and crashed!"

They all agreed to this plan, and surprisingly, the Dark Lord believed it when they told him their story. Voldemort decided that muggle computers were too fragile for his purposes, and the only consequence was that movie nights started again. Though Severus suspected he was being punished when it became his duty to buy the popcorn.

The End

Inkwolf August 7th, 2005 3:12 am

DancingMaenid, I nearly cried laughing at the computer lesson! :rotfl:

And Subtle_Science, yours I just nearly cried at. :upset:

Wow, with so many great ones posted today, I hesitate to even add mine...I feel almost as if I should wait till later, especially since this will probably be my last for a while. I need to get back to my own writing.:p

But here it is:

(I swiped the Girl Scout bit from someone, didn't I?)

----------------------------------

Severus Snape sighed inwardly as he felt his insides turn into lukewarm oatmeal.. Why did teary women always have this effect on him? Narcissa was gazing up at him with big, blue, trusting, watery eyes.

"Severus--oh, Severus--would you help him? Would you look after him, see he comes to no harm?"

Snape suppressed a wince. "I can try." Narcissa flung away her glass, which skidded across the table and fell over, to create yet another spot on the sorry old carpet. More scrubbing for Wormtail, not that he ever managed to get a stain out.

"If you are there to protect him...Severus, will you swear it? Will you make the Unbreakable Vow?"

Snape froze, Bellatrix's jeering words lost to his ears as a memory forcibly resurrected itself in his mind.

--------------------------

"Severus, you swore it, you made the Unbreakable Vow!"

"I was thirteen years old, and I was a very stupid child," Snape snapped at Lily Potter. "I swear, I got some sort of idiotic crush on you for two weeks, I made the stupid Vow, you told me to go to hell, and the week after I was offering to make the Unbreakable Vow for Gladys Gudgeon."

"Whatever," said Lily impatiently. "You swore you'd do whatever I asked, and I've never taken you up on that. I won't even ask you now, unless you agree that that I can. And once you do, your vow will be over and done with, and you can bugger off for the rest of your life and not have to worry any more. Both of us will be happy."

Snape scowled. "Yes, but Lily...."

Lily looked up at him trustingly with big, green, tear-streaked eyes. Severus Snape felt his insides turn into lukewarm oatmeal.

"I don't want to," he said sulkily, with a final effort to maintain control of the situation.

"Severus," said Lily evenly. "It's been nearly a year since we were sent into hiding. Nearly a year, locked up, every single day. All I'm asking is for ONE LOUSY NIGHT OUT! ONE miserable, piddling evening to get away from the same blasted four walls! Is that too much to ask?"

Dumbledore had, of course, promised not to tell the Potters that Snape was the one who had carried the prophecy to Voldemort. With a twinge of guilt, Snape looked into Lily's eyes for any hint of accusation.

Lily Potter's eyes were no longer trusting, pleading and teary. They were the eyes of a rabid tiger with a bad hangover. Or the eyes of a woman who has been locked in the house with an infant for nearly a straight year.

"Oh, all right," said Snape gloomily. He had known that he was going to cave in, the moment he got the warm-oatmeal feeling. It was the same thing that happened whenever his mother had started the waterworks on him. What a pathetic marshmallow I am, he thought with disgust.

"I knew I could count on you, Severus!" said Lily, beaming. "Severus Snape, to fulfill your vow, I ask you to babysit little Harry this evening."

------------------------------------

Severus Snape glowered down into the crib. The sleeping baby looked innocent and angelic, but it also looked disgustingly like James Potter. That could only mean trouble.

"Just stay sleeping," he growled quietly.

Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, Snape hunted for a bookshelf. He found a rather small one in the sitting room. As he had expected, the contents were a severe disappointment. There were several 'serious' best-selling novels whose back covers all claimed that the author 'plumbed the depths of human emotion,' which Severus knew from experience merely meant that they were filled with unpleasant, unhappily married couples with substance abuse and fidelity problems. There were a few cheap and tawdry romances. There were a few dull-looking sports novels, a coffee-table photo book about Merlin's Cave, and some Witch Weekly and Quidditch Illustrated magazines. On the bottom shelf were The Handy Homeowners's Book of Spells and a 'Useful Everyday Potions' book so full of inefficiencies and errors that Snape longed for a quill to scratch out the worst bits. There was also a Defense against the Dark Arts manual. Snape flipped through it, but the author had no conception of the modern improvements in the Dark Arts, so Snape dropped it in disgust.

Well, it wasn't as if he'd expected anything intellectually stimulating from the Potters, but he prowled the house a bit longer, hoping to find at least a Dark Arts book, a gory horror novel, some sort of humorous parody, or at least an adult magazine somewhere, perhaps hidden under a sofa cushion.

Finally, resigned to a night of boredom, Snape picked up one of the cheap romance novels and began to read 'Vamping the Vet,' the story of Kneazle-breeder Ronalyn Bejeezus and her unrequited passion for Lancelot Sweetcheeks, the local animal healer.

Just as Ronalyn tearfully brought in her third poisoned Kneazle, looking up at Lancelot with big pleading brown eyes, begging him to rescue the beast and find the poisoner (Take that, Mr. Studly and Sensitive, thought Snape with satisfaction) there was an odd noise from the bedroom

Snape had nearly forgotten he was babysitting. Hurrying to the side of the crib, Snape saw that the little James clone had awakened. Streams of green slime ran down from its nostrils over its mouth in a particularly stomach-turning sort of way. The baby was sticking its fingers in the goo and stretching it out, fascinated.

Taking a tissue from a nearby box, Snape suppressed his gag reflex and wiped the baby's face amd hands dry. Deprived of his entertaining snot strings, the angry infant took a deep breath and let out the first in a series of dog-whistle screeches.

Great, thought Snape. How do I stop this brat from screaming? More importantly, how can I do it without taking my fingers out of my ears?

Sneering down at the screeching Harry imperiously (or at least as imperiously as he could manage with fingers in his ears) Snape waited for the screaming session to abate.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, the tantrum ended. Harry, teary-eyed and angry, calmed down as he discovered he had created a whole new river of mucus down the front of his face. He dabbled his fingers in it experimentally, and stuck them in his mouth.

Snape cruelly applied another tissue

The screaming began afresh..

Giving up on the war of attrition, Snape carried the howling baby into the kitchen, stabs of pain lancing through his head with every screech.

Maybe he's hungry, Snape decided. Or maybe food will at least shut him up. He plopped the infant into a high chair and opened the cupboard where Lily had indicated he would find the baby's food.

"Mmmm," said Snape. "Strained spinach, strained beets, strained pumpkin, strained cabbage, strained yams...what a little gourmet we are." He opened the jar of strained spinach and let the contents glop unappetizingly into a bowl. He shoved a tiny, rubber-tipped spoon into the vile concoction and placed it before the yowling baby.

"Eat up!" he advised.

Baby Harry smacked an angry fist down on the tray of the high chair, sending the spinach-loaded spoon into the air to spatter its payload freely over Snape's face.

Snape wiped his face off as the baby stopped howling and began to giggle. Gritting his teeth, Snape picked up the spoon, rinsed it in the sink, and pushed it back into the spinach.

Harry hit the spoon again, screeching with delight as the spinach splattered Snape.

Snape rinsed off the spoon once more.

"Right," he said coldly. "It's clear you can't be trusted to handle this on your own. I am taking over. I shall control the spoon. Any questions? No? Good." He looded up the spoon with spinach. "Open up."

Baby Harry turned his head away, suddenly and completely, as if he had just seen something fascinating over his left shoulder.

Gritting his teeth again, Snape moved the spoon to Harry's mouth, just as the baby switched to stare to the other side.

"That's enough of that!" Snape snarled. "Open up! Look at me!" Harry continued to stare off into the distance. "LOOK at me!"

Eventually, by a combination of silly noises, and by opening and shutting his own mouth like a goldfish, Snape managed to get Harry to open his mouth long enough to shovel a spoonful of spinach into it.

Snape sat back, smiling smugly, with a real sense of accomplishment.

Then, with a sputtering noise, Harry projected strained spinach over the entire kitchen.

Without bothering to wipe his face again, Snape got another spoonful of spinach into Harry, this time clapping his hand firmly over the baby's mouth. An instant later, strained green goo slimed out from between his fingers and dripped up his sleeve.

Snape gave up on the spinach. He had no more success, though, with the strained beets, pumpkin, cabbage, carrots or yams, but at least the surroundings were now spattered with a wide variety of colors.

It rather looked like an impressionist painting.

Beginning to be worried, Snape slipped across the slimy floor to the pantry. He had a feeling that if the brat starved to death, Lily would consider that he'd failed at his vow.

There was nothing in the pantry but a flat cardboard box labelled Luigi's Pizza. Snape opened it to find a section of a congealed-looking round pastry of some sort. He pulled off a segment and took a bite, not that he had any appetite left, but merely to test for edibility. It was cold and greasy, but actually fairly tasty. He ate two more bites, then handed the crust to little Harry, who seized it in eager, chubby hands, and jammed it into his face.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry cast aside the soggy remains of the pizza crust. Snape picked it up and examined it. It had been so gummed and slimed and distorted that it was hard to tell how much had been actually consumed. For that matter, every bit of Harry, and of his clothes, and of the high chair's tray was now bright orange and covered with spit-wadded crumbs. Snape wondered if anything at all had reached the child's digestive system.

"Well done," said Snape absently. "You've earned a biscuit." He handed Harry a rock-hard teething biscuit from a cardboard box and continued to watch in fascination. Harry's eating method seemed to involve coating his food in saliva, then rubbing it around his face as it became soggier and soggier. Snape wondered whether very small children actually could absorb nutrients through their skin. Eventually the spit-soaked biscuit broke off and stuck to Harry's cheek, as the baby continued to try to shove his empty fist obliviously into his mouth, or occasionally, his nose.

"You are truly revolting." said Snape, almost in awe. "I can't have been half so disgusting at your age. Nobody could. If all babies were like this, the human race would have died out aeons ago from sheer nausea."

The baby burped, and spit up a mouthful of slimy white crumbs.

Bathing the baby hadn't been on Lily's list, but Snape picked the child up, kicked his own boots off, and stepped into the shower, clothes and all. When the baby appeared more pink than orange, and Snape could no longer feel spinach in his hair, he stepped out again. A quick wave of the wand dried the pair of them, and Snape set the baby on the sitting room carpet, in the midst of a group of toys. Then he sat down to read again, Harry chortling happily in the background.

Snape had just gotten to an interesting part of the book where Lancelot was finally getting some payback for saving all those Kneazles. He had just unfastened the topmost button of Ronalyn's robe, when Snape happened to cast a glance at Harry and frowned. The boy had a stick of some kind and was engaged in hitting it against a nearby chair.

The thing that had caught Snape's eye was that each time the chair was struck, it changed style, from Gryffindorian to Neo Merlin to Ugly Modern to Old Grindelwaldian...

Snape clutched at his robes and found something missing. "My wand! Give me that before you hex your eye out, you little--YOWP!" As he strode forward, the baby had swung the wand in his direction, striking him on the shin. A jolt like an electric shock sent Snape stumbling to his knees. The baby swung the wand again, hitting him somewhere far more sensitive.

Several centuries later, when Snape was able to uncurl himself enough to stagger up from the carpet where he had been lying, he saw that Harry had tired of hitting things with the wand and was now merely teething on it happily.

"GIVE me that!" Snape snarled, jerking the wand out of the baby's mouth. Ignoring Harry's wails of deprivation, he wiped the spit off the wand and anxiously examined the miniscule toothmarks that now covered it from end to end. He would simply need a new one...there was no way he could turn up at a Death Eater rally and explain this away.

Furious, Snape put his wand away and sat gingerly down on the edge of a chair, clutching his head in his hands and muttering imprecations under his breath.

It was then that he became aware of the noxious smell.

"No! Oh, no!" Snape protested angrily. "NO way! There is NO WAY in HELL I'm going to change your blasted diaper!"

The baby looked up at him with big, green, trusting, tear-stained eyes.

"NEVER!" Snape bared his teeth, willing the lukewarm oatmeal inside him to solidify to concrete. "Not for YOU! That won't work for YOU!"

The baby's lip trembled, and Harry made a pathetic little squeak of misery.

Snarling, Snape swept the baby up, placed him on an end table, and whipped off the diaper, nearly gagging at the pungent stench. A quick "Evanesco!" cleaned the soiled little nuisance, and a new diaper was applied, the former one sent into a sealed container with dispatch.

Snape set Harry down on his feet, where he stood, wobbling slightly and looking up, a sorrowful expression on his tiny face. Then a sound like a muffled explosion came from the vicinity of his diaper, he fell back on his bottom with a soggy squelch, and the air became filled with the aroma of stinky baby once more.

Snape used language inappropriate to the ears of a small child, for a very long time.

About twelve diapers later, Snape heard the sound of voices coming up the walk. He quickly cleared up the heap of dirty diapers, took away the large spider the baby was trying to swallow, and plunked little Harry down among his toys, shoving a teddy bear into his arms.

Then he stood, the picture of a confident and competent guardian, awaiting the Potters.

It was only at the last second that he saw the romance novel lying where he had dropped it. He kicked it under the chair as the door opened.

"Thank you, Severus, you are a dear. I knew I could trust you!" Lily swept up a chortling Harry. "Your vow is fulfilled completely."

"Yes, good of you to help us," said James, much more stiffly. "I hope Harry was no trouble."

"He was a perfect angel, and he didn't seem to miss you at all," said Snape, hoping it would hurt. "The kitchen needs a bit of cleaning, though."

As Snape stalked away from the house, he could hear James saying, "I can't BELIEVE you brought him to our home! You KNOW he's probably a Death Eater!"

"Nonsense, he is not," Lily answered."And who was I supposed to ask? The moon is full, and the last time we called Sirius, he took Harry up for a motorcycle Quidditch lesson..."

Snape was so caught up in his own fury that he barely spared a glance for the girl scout walking up the path with cookies to sell, even though the girl scout was six feet tall and had glowing red eyes.

Snape stopped on the street, frowning. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of strained turnip.

Clenching his turnip-covered fist and shaking it in the air, Snape roared, "As God is my witness, I will NEVER BABYSIT AGAIN!"

--------------------------

"Will you, Severus, watch over my son Draco, as he attempts to fulfill the Dark Lord's wishes?
"I will"
And will you, to the best of your ability, protect him from harm?"
"I will"

---------------------------


He added for good measure, "And I will NEVER let a woman sucker me into ANYTHING EVER AGAIN, either!" He disapparated as a flash of green light lit the street.

----------------------------

"And, should it prove necessary....if it seems Draco will fail....will you carry out the deed that the Dark Lord has ordered Draco to perform?"

Severus Snape looked down into big, blue watery eyes.

"I will," he said. Somewhere inside him, lukewarm oatmeal gurgled.

MoonysAngel August 7th, 2005 7:51 am

Gosh, those were all great. So wonderful. And here's my attempt at angst...


“Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I’ll do anything…”
A young witch stands guard over a baby’s crib, pleading, her lovely green eyes filled with tears…
“Stand aside. Stand aside!”
“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”

She does not move, standing protectively over the crib, the sleeping infant…
“Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now…”
“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—”

High-pitched laughter fills the room as a green flash of light rushes through the air. The screaming stops abruptly, as the body of the witch falls to the ground. Her brilliant emerald eyes remain open, staring at nothing…

I wake gasping for breath and shaking, sitting upright in bed, reaching outward. Reaching towards Lily. It’s a familiar nightmare, one I’ve had for the last fifteen years. At least I didn’t wake screaming this time, which is why I always Imperturbable Charm my bedchamber. Pushing my hair out of my face, I take several deep breaths, trying to calm my pounding heart. Trying to clear the sound of Lily’s screams out of my ears. This dream has become more horridly vivid since I attempted to teach Potter Occlumency last year. As young as he was, he retained a memory of that night, one that I saw, that burned deep into my brain.

I throw back the sheets to pace around the room. Tired as I am already, I can only hope to exhaust myself to sleep deeply with no dreaming. Sometimes I wonder why it is that I do not go mad, living this life. Dancing attendance on the Dark Lord, jumping to Dumbledore’s calls, teaching, being Head of House; I truly wonder that I do find time to sleep, much less dream.

As if my life hadn’t become horrible enough, the Dark Lord had gifted me with the presence of Wormtail. I suppose some would consider it a sort of poetic justice, the spy who heard the prophecy that set the Potters into hiding, with the one who betrayed them to the Dark Lord, thrown together. I call it hell. Had I not detected the life-debt he owes Potter, I would have killed him already, and hang the punishment from the Dark Lord. But all I can do is make Wormtail’s life miserable…as miserable as he helped make mine. And I have my own life-debts to repay as well…

Which is why I suspect Dumbledore finally gave me the Defense position. I think he believes I will not live out the year, and I’m not so sure I don’t agree. Which means that I must be certain that Potter knows all that he can to defeat the Dark Lord. As if he’d listen to me. He won’t, of course, the arrogant little prat, just like his father. Oh, yes, I heard about his little ‘teaching’ experiment last year; I’m sure he feels himself far above further instruction. But these children must realize what they are dealing with. They don’t realize how lucky they were to survive the battle at the Ministry last year. They would all have died, had Dumbledore not shown up. If the Dark Lord is to be defeated, I must get through to them.

I’ve been pacing too many nights lately. The thick rugs in my bedchamber have paths worn through; I must remember to replace them. Maybe I’ve exhausted myself enough to sleep now...

I’m hanging upside down in the air. James Potter is laughing, everyone is laughing.
“Let him down!” says Lily Evans.
“Certainly,” replies Potter, and moments later, I thump to the ground hard. Jumping up, wand ready, Black shouts “Locomotor mortis!” and I fall over again.
“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Lily shouts, pointing her wand at Potter and Black.
“Ah, Evans, don’t make me hex you,” says Potter.
“Take the curse off him, then!”
Potter turns to me, mutters under his breath, and I am free again. Slowly, I try to stand up. “There you go,” he is saying, “you’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus—”
“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!” (Oh, God, why did I say that to her? Why why why?)
Lily blinks at me. “Fine.” She looks at Potter, then back at me. “If that’s how you want to play—” She raises her wand at me. “Accio wand!”
My wand flies out of my hand and into her waiting one. I am now defenseless, helpless, and the only person who dared to defend me now is pointing a wand at me.
Lily flicks her wand, and again I hang upside-down in the air. James Potter is laughing, everyone is laughing. They take turns hexing and jinxing me, much like a cat plays with a mouse, until they grow bored.


I wake screaming.


from Hamlet (which inspired this story)
to sleep;--
To sleep! perchance to dream:--ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep ... what dreams may come,
...Must give us pause:

TigerSnake August 7th, 2005 8:05 am

Good job MoonysAngel. :tu
----------------------------------------
I’ve been here since the beginning reading all the wonderful stuff you guys are writing, but this is the 1st time I write a POV, so it might not be funny (which is what I was aiming for :scared:).

BTW, if I decide to make an continuation to this, it’s probably going to take a while b/c I start school tomorrow, so I won’t be spending much time on the forums. :upset: And I won’t have time to write a POV.

Well, I hope you enjoy my Snape’s POV…

------------------------------------------
After Two Butterbeers

It was a cold night. A breeze hit Severus Snape in the face as he walked towards the gates of Hogwarts. He had his cloak rapped tightly around him. It was freezing.

Earlier that day, most of the students had left for their Christmas break. Snape was looking forward to staying in his dungeon office and working on his newest invention. It was not a spell, but a potion that makes the hair of the drinker silky smooth. That was his great plan for the holidays. Only the Dark Lord had decided to call upon his Death Eaters. Snape was going to ignore it and continue with his potion, but Dumbledore insisted on him going.

“Bloody old man,” said Snape through clattering teeth. “Who does he think he is? If I want to stay in my dungeon and skip a Death Eater meeting, I shall!”

But in the end he decided to go, after Dumbledore threaten him with removing him from the Defense Against the Dark Arts position and giving him his old potions job back.

“I have big plans for my new potion,” continued Snape, talking to himself as he reached the gates. “If it works I could go public with it. I’ll have to market it …” he disapparated and appeared in the front yard of the Malfoys’ Manor, “… in the Daily Prophet. Should I extend it to the muggles? As a, erm, shampoo, is it? No. forget them.” Pause. “I will need a celebrity to advertise my hair product. That’ll bring in a lot of profits. Perhaps Dumbledore will be willing …”

Just then he reached the front door of the Malfoys. He rang the doorbell.

Filthy little mudbloods … muuudbloodsss … muuuudbloodssss!

Snape hated mudbloods as much as the next Death Eater, (conveniently always forgetting that he, himself, was a half-blood) but that doorbell was the most annoying thing he had ever heard, and he has Hermione Granger as a student, and that’s saying something. No matter how many years he had spend coming to the Malfoys, he would never get used to that doorbell, which starts off low and ends in a high pitch.

Snape heard hurried footsteps. Then the door opened.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I was busy wi …”

Snape stopped as he searched for who had opened the door. He found the “being” once he looked down. He was staring at a house-elf, but it wasn’t the one they had before. It was …

“Kreacher?!” screamed Snape.

He looked around to make sure they were alone. Snape stepped into the entrance hall. He turned to look at Kreacher, who was closing the front door.

“Didn’t Potter send you to work in the kitchens in Hogwarts?” asked Snape, eyeing the disgusting creature.

“Yes, but Kreacher hopes Professor Snape doesn’t tell Master,” and he bowed. “Kreacher will be back when term starts again,” the house-elf bowed again, his nose touching the floor. He started walking away towards another door. Snape could hear him mumbling to himself, “Filthy half-blood. Why great wizards like the Malfoys befriend him is a mystery to Kreacher. Kreacher’s seen him give that old geezer information about the Dark Lord. He is loyal to him. My Mistress Bellatrix knows he’s not to be trusted.…”

Snape pulled out his wand and was about to hex the house-elf to keep his mouth shut, but just then someone came towards Snape.

“Severus!”

Snape turned and saw the teary eyes of Narcissa.

She better not start crying again, he thought to himself. This may be her house, but that won’t stop me from using a silencing charm on her….

“Narciass!” said Snape, trying to sound pleased to see her.

Ever since the Dark Lord decided to make the Malfoys’ Manor HQ in late June, after the fiasco in the Ministry, he has had to endure the woman’s sobs over her imprisoned husband and pampered son.

“Severus,” she repeated, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Yes, well I was busy with … wait. What do you mean you’ve been waiting?” Snape’s eyes narrowing.

“Well, erm, the Dark Lord passed out after two butterbeers … you know he never could hold down much of that.”

Yes, he thought, that is ture.

“Well, I grabbed his hand and made it touch Bella’s Dark Mark to summon the Death E …”

“I told her not to do it,” came Bellatrix’s voce. She appeared from the same room Narcissa had come from.

“Why did you call the Dark Lord’s servants?” Snape asked, ignoring Bella's presence.

Snape couldn’t tell what Narcissa was thinking; she was avoiding his eyes.

“Well, I wanted to make a gift basket …”

“A gift what? To whom?” demanded Snape.

He couldn’t believe someone would be so stupid as to take advantage of the Dark Lord in his most vulnerable moments. It seemed Narcissa and Lucius were made for one another: they were both dunderheads

“A gift basket. You know. Little things in it and perhaps some snacks or fruits,” whispered Narcissa in a girlish voice. “Lucius has been very lonely and I was only thinking …”

“Well you obviously were NOT thinking,” said Snape, also in a whisper, but in a threatening voice nonetheless. “What if the Dark Lord awakes?”

“Exactly what I said!” exclaimed Bella. Snape ignored her.

He kept his eyes on Narcissa, who was still looking at the floor.

“We moved him to the study. We’re in the living area,” said Narcissa in an almost cheery voice, as if that settled the thing.

How simple-minded.

“So what? Every Death Eater is here to make this ‘gift’ for Lucius?” snapped Snape, looking questioningly at her.

“No. I made Kreacher tell those I didn’t know or needed that it was a mistake and to leave.”

“And they bought that?”

“Yes. Actually, they seem quite glad to leave.”

Here Snape rolled his eyes. No one saw him. Narcissa was still avoiding his gaze and Bella was standing next to him, also looking at her sister.

How am I suppose to get out of this? I could’ve been back at Hogwarts improving my potion. And this silly, desperate woman had to drag me over here as if I cared what happens to her husband. Didn’t she have enough with the Unbreakable Vow I did with her a few months ago? Now a fruit basket? What an insane woman. I’ll never understand women.

“If you come in we’ll be done much sooner. And the Dark Lord would never be the wiser,” said Narcissa, who was now looking at Snape with hopeful, teary eyes.

Oh, she’s good, he thought.

“Fine. Let’s do this … quickly.”

He moved to follow her and saw Bella open her mouth to protest, but closed her mouth and followed as well.

Narcissa threw open the double doors to the living area. There sitting amongst the various couches and armchairs sat a terrified Draco.

Why is he so scared? Idiot boy.

Snape didn’t have to see any farther to find the answer of why Draco was so afraid; Greyback was sitting next to him, looking at him as though Draco was a nice, juicy stake. An enormous blond man was also there. Two Death Eaters Snape knew to be brother and sister were sitting on a sofa. Gibbon was there too and so was …

Wormtail?! Great! This is going to be a long, tedious night indeed.

As Snape and Bella took empty seats, he saw what was on the long coffee table in front of them all. On it there was a huge empty basket. There were little nick-knacks, ribbons, fresh fruits, a card reading “Hope you get out of jail soon,” and other accessories. Narcissa stayed standing, looking at all them with a grand smile.

“I want us to start by making a bigger version of this card I found, and I want you all to sign it …”

Yes, perhaps I should’ve insisted a bit harder on not coming to this so-called ‘meeting.’

With that, he grabbed a Magic Marker and started drawing on the big piece of parchment that was to be the greeting card, which everyone had already gathered around it and started adding their personality to it.

Billywiggy August 8th, 2005 12:21 am

MoonysAngel, good job! :tu:
TigerSnake, passed out on two butterbeers! :p I love it!
OK - here's another attempt . . .

“Severus, I need you to do double duty this time”, said Voldemort, with a sinister blend of cheerfulness and spite. “Of course, My Lord”, replied Snape, a feeling of foreboding spreading throughout his body. “Along with your regular duties, I will need you to take on a very important role in the upcoming production.” Snape stared as the Dark Lord said these words, stunned. Did this mean what he thought it meant? Could it possibly be finally happening?

If it wouldn’t have appeared unseemly, Snape would have rubbed his hands gleefully together. At last! At long last! He would finally get a role in one of Voldemort’s latest home theatrical productions. So many plays have come and gone – and never a part for poor Severus. This must be the reward for finishing off Dumbledore for him; The Dark Lord was pleased after all – it had been so hard to tell how he took the news last night. Snape thought he might be mad that he stepped in for Draco; he knew he would never guess it was on Dumbledore’s orders. Then, leaving the Potter brat behind. At least the Dark Lord didn’t suspect him of trying to save Potter again – only perhaps suspecting him of saving Draco.

Besides, the Dark Lord couldn’t refuse him now; Lucius is in jail, after all, and McNair is out sick due to the attack on him by that rampaging Crumpelhorned Snorkack. Honestly – who even knew they really existed? So – there was nothing for it, apparently – he would have to be given a part. No more sitting in the back, watching the fiasco from the make-up booth. No more silent rolling of eyes as Wormtail flubbed another line. Finally a role of his very own! Nothing too fancy, mind – just something to sink the old teeth into. He’ll show them what a true dramatic performance looked like. None of this flapping arms and bellowing lines nonsense. Bold yet subtle, low and intense – that was the way to do it. Really, being a double/triple spy . . . wasn’t that daily proof of his talent at ‘improv’? Seriously, this will as easy as brewing a simple Swelling Solution! One of his greatest dreams has come true at last . . .

Snape had to work hard to hide the giddy feelings from spreading out over his mind and face. It would never do to show the Dark Lord too much pleasure in any duty that wasn’t entirely villainous. His favorite pleasure was taking others’ pleasure away. Thank heavens for Occlumency! Voldemort continued, “Yes, I don’t think we can do it properly without you . . . I’ve tried cutting the part out – but it’s not right – it really is a pivotal role.” Snape inclined his head to show acceptance. If only he could jump in the air with abandon! But it really wasn’t worth a round of ‘Crucio’ . . .

“What is the role, My Lord?” asked Snape, keen to keep the hunger out of his voice. “You’re very lucky to get the part, you know. I was going to give it to Wormtail – but he’s necessary as the damsel in distress. I, of course, will be the leading man, and Bellatrix here will play the lamppost. A role she’s quite suited to, as it appears.” Voldemort let out a sinister low chuckle. Bellatrix tried unsuccessfully to hide her embarrassment and fear, and smiled as if gracious for any small part. As if! Snape knew she loved emoting in front of an audience – any sized audience would do. Snape couldn’t help himself, he allowed his lip to curl in an amused sneer. Well, so much for the ‘Bella’ of the ball! She was always so overly dramatic anyway. ‘Vamping’ was the word that flitted across his mind during many a performance of hers. Snape could now barely contain his excitement. What was the role? What was the role?

“You will be playing the most sinister and frightening character in the play,” continued Voldemort, “In fact, it’s such a scary part – I almost took it on myself – who better to play such concentrated evil . . . but I can’t be spared from the leading role. You must therefore take it on.” Snape was starting to get worried – the Dark Lord was beginning to sound . . . amused. “You will play . . . “ Voldemort paused for dramatic effect. He was nothing if not dramatic, “. . .the Duck”.

“The Duck?” asked Snape, nonplussed. “Yes!” said Voldemort with a flourish, as though he had just given Snape the world’s greatest gift imaginable. “How very . . .” Snape started, but couldn’t continue. Bellatrix had a grin on her face that was growing wider and wider. Wormtail was starting to giggle.
“. . . kind of you,” finished Snape, lamely. He felt as if he’d just eaten a bucketful of flobberworms. Was it permissible to vomit upon the Dark Lord’s shoes, without suffering the gravest of punishments, he wondered? Then again, maybe playing ‘The Duck’ was the gravest of punishments. Bellatrix and Wormtail scooted quickly out of the room – no doubt to spread the news as quickly as possible to the other Death Eaters about Snape’s newest role. Snape might just find a way to add a few ingredients to the make-up mixture this time. Some doxy droppings ought to do nicely for a little . . . gastric discomfort . . . for his fellow thespians. He sighed inwardly. He ought to have known it was too good to be true. “And my lines?” asked Snape, in as offhand a manner as he was capable of. “Oh, just the one line” replied Voldemort, eyes glinting maliciously. “Just one?” asked Snape, now definitely resigned to his fate, which the Dark Lord sealed with one word:

“Quack!”

TheForce August 8th, 2005 8:06 pm

Billywiggy Snape's "quack!" Ah priceless... :lol:

Well, with the following fic I'm experimenting with a new genre- Romance.
I'm a bit apprehensive about it... :scared:
If you hate it, feel free to thrash me to pulp and do the tango on my remains... :) but first be sure to tell me what you think went wrong with it.

Disillusionment

To Lily,

Lost am I for words not feeble, not trite
In an effort to say- in my world you bring light,
Love falls short to express my feelings,
Yearnings of my heart which soar above dull meanings…

Lily looked vacantly at the parchment in her left hand. With her right hand she held her wand, which was her only source of light. Around her the Hogwarts ground was enveloped by darkness, which was alleviated slightly by the moonlight.
She was standing on the edge of the lake and small waves of water rippled against her bare feet.
But she was not alone.
Not far from where she stood, hidden behind a beech tree stood Severus Snape.
He peered out from behind the trunk wondering what Lily thought of his poem. This was the third poem that he had sent her. Not that he liked writing potry. Far from it...But he had heard from reliable sources that girls loved poetry. So he had clubbed a few words together and made sure they rhymed...
But he had sent them to her anonymously. He had not been able to muster up the courage to add his name at the bottom. Suppose she replied, telling him that she disliked him and not to send her any more letters? No, the very thought made his stomach squirm uncomfortably.
But then, how would he ever know what she did feel for him?
He saw Lily as she held the paper up and inhaled deeply. He had sprayed the paper with amorentia.
“Oy Lily!”
Lily whipped around and saw James Potter jogging towards her; a broad smile on his face.
“Oh James, its lovely. But you can’t waste your time like this. We have NEWTs to study for, remember?”
“Eh?”
“Your poem, silly,” said Lily half exasperatedly half adoringly, holding out the parchment for him to see.
James took the parchment. His face froze imperceptibly for a moment but he quickly recovered. He smiled. An affected smile. A smile that did not come from the eyes.
“I’m glad you liked it. Did you notice how the first letters of each line adds up to ‘Lily’?”
“Oh…no…I hadn’t noticed. Well here’s your reward my bard,” she said pecking James on the lips.
“You call that a reward?” said James mockingly and wrapped Lily in his arms.
Severus could not watch any longer. He felt as if he had been plunged in icy cold water.
He slid to the floor. His fists clenched and heart pounding.
There he waited until he was sure he was alone. Getting up he made his way towards the Entrance hall. Each step he took caused him pain. Lights from the windows seemed to glare into the darkness with obscene brightness.
He felt alone.
His mind throbbed with pulsations of pain and hatred.
What had he been thinking? How could he have been so foolish? How could he have dreamed that someday their disparate worlds would unite when he knew she liked Potter…no… she loved Potter…
A surge of hatred washed over his body as he remembered how Potter had pretended the letter was his.
The injustice of it all overwhelmed Severus. The world was cruel. Intolerably cruel.
How truly meaningless is love, friendship, faith…
Is this all this world has to offer? Pain hidden in euphemisms of verbiage
He would someday lift this façade and show all the true nature of life…

DancingMaenid August 9th, 2005 7:03 am

Inspiration struck earlier, and I now give you...

The Cousin

Severus was happily examining a very old, very valuable potions book he'd purchased during his last visit to Diagon Alley when he heard a knock at the front door and groaned. The last thing he needed was company. Especially considering that the last time he left someone into his home, he'd ended up making an Unbreakable Vow. In fact, he couldn't remember a single good time he'd had when visitors had come over.

"Wormtail!" He called out loudly, "Would you get the bloody door and tell whoever it is that to go away?"

There was no answer, but he heard nothing for several moments, which he took as a good sign. Whoever it was, Wormtail had obviously gotten rid of them. Or had he? Wormtail had just entered the room, and had an odd expression on his face.

"I tried to get rid of them, but they said they're family."

Oh no, Severus thought, surely it isn't....

"Helloooo?" The obnoxious female voice called out a moment later from the hall, "Sevvie? Are you here? Who's that weird man who answered the door?"

Severus stepped out into the hall, and came face to face with a thin woman around his own age with a matching, albeit a bit more feminine, hooked nose. Behind her stood a short, stocky man and two young, hook-nosed boys.

"Oh no," Seveus said, "it is you. And you've brought your family."

It was his cousin Lucille, her husband Bob and, apparently, her two sons. Severus didn't know this for a fact, as he hadn't spoken to his cousin since he was sixteen. He wouldn't have even known she'd gotten married had he not gotten an invitation to the wedding. He hadn't attended, so the fact that the stocky man was Bob was actually an assumption in itself. Maybe Lucille had driven Bob insane, and this was some unfortunate, new husband. But it wasn't.

"Bob," Lucille said, "this is my cousin, Severus. Serverus, this is Bob, and these are my sons, Mickey and Oscar. Boys, this is Cousin Sevvie!"

"Hi Cousin Sevvie!" The boys said in unison.

"Mum told me you were still living here, and since we were going on vacation anyway, I thought we'd come and spend it here with you. Our bags are out in the car, if you don't mind getting them."

How his Aunt Cora knew he was still living in his old childhood home was a mystery to him. He was very tempted at the moment to kick Lucille and her family out. After all, they were from his father's side of the family, and therefore, muggles. He had a lot of objects in the house that the Ministry would be very unhappy about a muggle finding, and besides that, there was no way he was giving up magic while they were there. No way. Unfortunately, it didn't look like the family would give him a chance to kick them out. Mickey and Oscar were already in the sitting room, jumping on the sofa, and Bob was peeking in all the rooms, asking where the television was and mentioning something about a sporting event he wanted to watch. Unfortunately, Wormtail wander back out into the hall, then.

"This is your cousin?" Wormtail asked, eyeing Lucille.

"Yes," Severus said through clenched teeth. "Lucille, this is my butler, Wormtail. Wormtail, let's go outside and fetch my dear cousin's bags, shall we?"

Once they were outside, Wormtail began to whine. "What's all that about me being your butler? I'm not your butler!"

"Lucille is a muggle. I fear we shall have a bit of trouble if we use any magic around her and her family, or expose them to anything from our world. Now, I doubt the Dark Lord would be very pleased if the Ministry of Magic decided to come out here because we were using magic in front of muggles. It would be very...unfortunate attention, would it not? Trust me, I've had trouble with this relative before. Now, I don't know how long we're going to suffer my cousin's presence, but we're just going to have to behave like muggles until she leaves. That means that, until she leaves, you are the butler. Now, once we get back in there, I will distract them while you go through the house and hide anything we wouldn't want them to find."

"But--but if they're your family, don't they know you're a wizard?"

"No," he said, "as a matter of fact, they don't. Which means we must be especially careful. I may not care much for my father's family, but I will not be happy if they start spending their Christmas dinners, which I might add I am not invited to, gossiping about me."

Severus didn't necessarily trust Wormtail to do a decent job hiding everything, but the idea of Wormtail being alone with Severus' extended family seemed far worse. Severus was almost half-way through the large pile of photographs of Lucille, Bob and their two sons when Mickey and Oscar jumped up on the sofa on either side of Severus.

"How old are you?" One of them, perhaps Mickey, asked.

Severus bared his teeth. "That's none of your business!"

"Can you guess how old me and Oscar are?"

Severus frowned. Quite frankly, all children seemed the same to him: young and annoying. Guessing their ages proved difficult.

"Are you three?"

They giggled. "No!" Mickey said, "I'm seven, and Oscar is five. Do you have a job?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"I'm a teacher. At a very prestigious boarding school, I might add."

"Oooh!" Lucille squeeled, "A teacher! What do you teach?"

"Po--I mean, Chemistry. I teach Chemistry."

Lucille looked around the house with a smile on her face. "My, this place brings back memories! It looks so much like it used to. You know, back when we were young. Except...it's far dustier now. Doesn't your butler clean the house?"

"He does a terrible job, I'm afraid. He has the intelligence of a rodent."

Lucille giggled. "Sevvie, do you remember that fun Christmas we had that time when we were sixteen?

"Unfortunately, I do."

"Your father invited me and my family over for dinner, remember? And you showed me your collection of spiders. I called them icky, remember? And then I teased you about your hair being so greasy, and...I don't remember much after that. I think I must have had too much eggnog. I remember that I had this really weird, vague dream. Something about being turned upside down, and a warning from the Ministry of Magic. Quite funny, really. You still haven't washed your hair, have you?"

Blast! Severus thought, It sounds like that memory charm they put on her might be wearing off....

She sighed happily. "I always had so much fun in this house. I remember that owls kept flying in, though. Have you gotten that fixed? I don't want any owls flying in and frightening my boys!"

Before Severus could answer, Oscar said, "Cousin Sevvie, why is your hair so greasy?"

"And why are your teeth yellow?" Mickey added.

"Do you have a wife?"

"Do you have a cat?"

Before Severus could even begin to think of answers--or more, retorts--for their questions, there was another knock on the door. He ignored it, in hopes that Wormtail would answer it again, but when the knocking continued five minutes later, he got up reluctantly and answered it. It was Bellatrix.

"Hey," she said, "don't think I mean anything nice by coming down here, but I thought I should warn you that the Dark Lord is upset. Someone messed up when washing his favorite sweater, and it shrunk five sizes. Ever since then, he's been searching for DEs to Crucio. Just thought I'd warn you, because--" She stopped speaking when she saw Lucille, who was now standing out in the hall, smiling.

"Oooh! Sevvie! Who's this? Someone...special?"

"No!" Severus said hurriedly, once he caught her meaning, "Bellatrix isn't special at all! She's just a crazy woman who lives down the road! That's all!"

"Well, she certainly is pretty! Oooh, I just know you're the perfect woman for Cousin Sevvie! Your parents would be so proud, Sevvie! Oooh! I know, Bellatrix can stay for dinner!"

The next few hours were miserable. Bellatrix, for her own sick enjoyment, decided to tell Lucille about the time Severus got drunk and danced on a table singing love songs. Mickey and Oscar began searching through Severus' belongings, and managed to find the extremely old and valuable potions book, which they managed to tear a page out of before Severus caught them and took the book away. Then, for some stupid reason, they started crying when he glared at them, which got Bob's attention. Then he had to listen to Bob talk about how he'd understand someday, when he and that lovely Bellatrix had their own little children.

Dinner preparations were also miserable. Although his skill and potions helped him some, the truth was that Severus had not prepared meals the muggle way in many years. And Wormtail certainly wasn't any help. Finally, the table was set and all the food, which had miraculously turned out edible. They'd just begun eating when there was a popping sound followed by clattering in the next room. All heads turned to look in the direction of the sound, and the next moment, Voldemort stormed into the room.

"Make me a potion that will enlarge this sweater," Voldemort said, holding up a small green sweater, "or there will be consequences."

Lucille and her family screamed then, and ran from the house. Bellatrix began to laugh hysterically. Severus, though annoyed at the fact that he would have to mail his cousin's luggage to her, decided that fixing the Dark Lord's sweater was far preferable to having his cousin stay with him any longer.

The End

The Black Adder August 9th, 2005 9:17 pm

I got behind and have been trying to catch up. Forgive me for just making a sweeping statement to everyone, that these are all really terrific!

I do have to mention a couple of my favorites. Subtle, your serious ones between Snape and Dumbledore are really touching. And I liked your rat abuse one too.

TheForce--I found yours about young Snape writing the poem that James took credit for to be quite poignant. I could see something like that happening.

Inkwolf--just when I was wondering what you were up to lately, you give us Snape the Babysitter. Too funny for words. Now we know why Severus always looks at Harry with such loathing. He must be having flashbacks to him with snot and other disgusting stuff all over his face! And Voldemort coming up the walk as a Girl Scout? :rotfl: :rotfl:

***********

I actually wrote this some months ago before HBP came out, as an update to my Gifts of Light story (link in my sig). I never posted it because it jumped to nearly a year later and I thought I might do something else in between timewise. It was just one of those things where the characters began talking to me and this is what they were saying.

It has some curious foreshadowing of things that HBP actually did. I have polished it a little recently, but left those main ideas as they were.

For anyone who hasn't read the lead-in story "Gifts of Light in a Dark World"--In a nutshell, Severus contacts Lily during the first war to warn her about a mole among her friends. She plants the seed of the idea for him to become a spy for Dumbledore. In the last segment, Dumbledore suggests Severus should come to teach at Hogwarts as his professor of potions is retiring, but plans to manipulate Lucius Malfoy on the Board of Governors so that Voldemort will think it is his own idea to send Snape there (an idea that I still like to think was the case).


Almost a year later, October 23, 1981


"I think you've used a little too much bile there, Professor."

"What?"

Severus Snape looked up through the silver steam from his boiling cauldron, through the stringy strands of dark hair to the hooded figure standing just inside his office door. He smiled his first genuine smile in years even before she let down her hood, revealing her distinctive dark red hair. The woman smiled warmly at him in return.

His smile quickly faded. "Lily, you shouldn't be here." He pulled out his wand as he strode swiftly to the door. Giving a quick glance down the hallway, he shut and locked the entrance. Turning sternly towards her, he admonished, "If the wrong person should see you down here, you could compromise us both!"

"No one saw me," she replied, dismissing his concerns with an indulgent smile. She strolled away from him, taking in the shadowed office with its shelves lined with bottles of pickled slimy things, as well as other dry potion ingredients. The hearth was empty, but the room was comfortably warm from the fire burning beneath the cauldron. She sniffed at its greenish steam now rising from the unknown concoction and wrinkled her nose at the scent of Hellesbore.

"Dumbledore's kept me apprized of your progress. You're our little secret," she flashed him a conspiratorial wink, assuring him that James wasn't in the loop. "The headmaster tells me you're doing quite well. Your information has been responsible for a number of timely arrests. You've no doubt saved many lives."

"Not that I'll ever receive the Order of Merlin for my trouble," he grumbled.

She suppressed amusement at his familiar grousing but otherwise ignored the complaint. "He also told me you were here at Hogwarts now. How do you like teaching?"

"I hate it," he replied sullenly. "The students are unruly and cheeky. Very few have the wit to grasp the significance of what I'm trying to teach them."

"I think it's supposed to be your job to inspire them to learn, Professor," she said playfully.

"I'd sooner inspire the giant squid to walk on land," he countered.

"Severus," she said with a giggle, "I fear that you could find fault with heaven itself."

"I doubt there is a heaven," he growled.

"Please don't say that!" she whispered so seriously and of a sudden that Snape turned to her. She was staring at him with a haunted, shadowed expression. Sensing this was not a time for philosophic debate, he studied her silently. She avoided his penetrating eyes, however, gazing down at the bubbling cauldron. "What are you brewing?" she asked, changing the subject.

"It's rubbish now," he snorted at the blue steam rising from the contents. "You made me lose my count. Evanesco." With a flourish of his wand the contents were gone and the fire extinguished.

"Sorry. I hope it wasn't anything consequential." She flashed him only partially abashed green eyes.

"The Draught of Peace," he informed her with a grimace. "Dumbledore doesn't allow drinking during school hours and I need something to get me through the day…"

"Oh dear," she grinned impishly. "I fear the children will pay with extra homework and detentions for my blunder."

"What's going on, Lily? Why did you come?" he said abruptly.

She pursed her lips, growing serious again. "I was just wondering whether you had any further insights into…who…we shouldn't trust--?"

Snape bristled. "I've already told Dumbledore all that I know," he said defensively. Pacing away from her, he compulsively re-straightened ingredient bottles. "I'm convinced that no one in my circle of contacts knows the identity of the mole."

"And you still think it's Remus?"

"That would be my guess," he said disinterestedly. "Why?"

"It's just…" She grew evasive again. "I think…sometimes…that James places a little too much confidence in Sirius."

He turned and squinted at her statement. "You believe the mole could be Black?" he asked, trying to discern her meaning.

"No, that's not what I mean…exactly. I'm sorry, Severus. There are things I'm not at liberty to say."

"Of course," he replied sincerely. As players in this most dangerous game of war, spying, and counter-spying, they were all on a need-to-know basis.

"Severus, what do you know about the Prophecy?" her voice returned to no more than a whisper.

He frowned. "Only what I've been able to surmise. That there is something about…your child and that of the Longbottoms' which could be of some future danger to the Dark Lord."

"Dumbledore's told us as much. Still, I feel as though there's something he's not telling us."

"That's not surprising. Dumbledore keeps his own counsel on a great many things," he said drolly.

She looked at him squarely, encouraged as well as disturbed by this corroboration of her instincts. "Still, you've been practicing Legilimancy with him. He says you've become quite good, in fact."

"I'm still alive…" he said quietly.

"I was just wondering…if perhaps…you might have picked up something…more… from Dumbledore, I mean."

His frown deepened. "There's a great deal of difference between Legilimancing unsuspecting Death Eaters and a powerful wizard like Dumbledore. Trust me, Lily, nothing slips past those baby blues of his that he doesn't want me to know."

"Of course," she said with disappointment. She shivered as the dungeon office began to cool in the absence of the fire. She hugged herself and began pacing its shadowed length. "I trust Dumbledore, you understand… I have to believe he would protect us if he could."

Snape swallowed quietly and followed her into the shadows. "Lily, if there's anything that I've learned from playing this little game, it's that you should never trust anyone completely. Everyone's got his own agenda. Including Dumbledore."

Lily blinked. Her mask slipped and suddenly her suspicions and fear were quite evident.

"Listen," the Death Eater turned spy continued softly, stepping closer. The Dark Lord doesn't want you…or even…Potter." He pronounced the name distastefully, as though an insect had just flown inside his mouth. "Only the boy. And…I have it on good authority that he thinks that you in particular could be quite useful to him alive."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Now where in the world would he get an idea like that?"

Snape shrugged roguishly, though his expression remained grave and intense. "It's something you can use…if you have to. Don't underestimate the danger, Lily. You must do everything you can to protect yourself."

She smiled a sad appreciation, which then changed to a troubling determination. "As a mother, I have to do everything I can to protect my child."

Stricken, his gaze fell. "Well, I wouldn't know about that."

"Severus, promise me something." Her voice took on a breathy urgency. "If…something were to happen to James and I but Harry…somehow…survives, please promise me you'll look after him."

His black eyes rose to hers again. "Lily," he spoke gently. "You must know that if you and Potter don't survive, neither will the boy."

"I know it's a long shot… But even so…"

"And besides, I'm not exactly the favorite 'uncle' the family invites for tea, now am I?" he said with a grim irony. "Black certainly wouldn't want me horning in on his territory."

"No…but you teach here at Hogwarts now. You can teach Harry things that Sirius never would. Things he needs to know. Please, Severus. Promise me, won't you? A wizard's promise."

He looked at her with incredulity. "I don't think you understand what you're asking of me. This is his child."

"He's my child as well," she countered fiercely. "I don't ask this lightly, I know it won't be easy. But you're the only one I truly trust at the moment. Please do this for me."

He turned away from her, feeling the chill of the office now himself. He leaned against the mantel of the fireplace as he considered her request, flicking his wand to ignite a fire in the grate. Surely Dumbledore would protect them adequately. In any case, he thought grimly, it was unlikely a promise he would have to keep.

"I will only promise…that I will do what I can," he said into the warming flames.

"Fair enough," her voice accepted his terms from behind.

He took a deep breath and turned back to her. She put forth her hand and he eyed it warily, before grasping it reluctantly. They spoke softly the binding words, then shyly released each other's flesh.

"I want you to know that it has been my hope that one day we could all put the past behind us, and forgive one another of our youthful trespasses."

The skin around the corners of his mouth twitched. "It's a lovely sentiment, Lily, but your husband will never see past his own self-righteousness, and I will never forgive him."

"Yes. I do see that now," she said calmly. "I take comfort in that you and I at least could regain something of our old friendship."

Tears began to fill her eyes. "Good-bye, Severus."

Before he could react, she agilely drew near and kissed him upon the cheek, then quickly disappeared out the door into the classroom.

Left dumbfounded and unsettled, Snape lightly touched the place where her lips had touched him. Rousing himself, he tried to follow, but the dungeon classroom and outside corridor were already empty. Of course she would have taken precautions that no one would see her as she left.

He returned to his office feeling quite anxious and needing to act, to do something. Dumbledore… He went to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder, then paused. He already knew what the headmaster would say… what he always said when the subject of the Potters came up. This is none of your concern.

He put back the floo powder, brushing it off of his hands. Then I will go to the Dark Lord. I will tell him… No. I'll ask…Plead with him… He walked back to the cauldron, searching for a plan…something he could do. But he knew in all honesty he had already done as much as he dared. Too many comments or questions about the Potters would be ineffective and only make his master suspicious and angry. He would simply have to hope that an opportunity for additional information would come his way.

He felt the familiar constricting in his chest and a knot in his stomach, a helplessness like he hadn't felt since he first realized the mistake he had made in becoming a Death Eater. Or since his days of being bullied at Hogwarts… Potter. Of course, he thought, his blood pressure rising. As usual, this was all his fault. If he hadn't married Lily… Potter was the one who had put her at risk. If only the Killing Curse had worked. If only… He grabbed the lip of the cauldron, his knuckles white with his rage. A bottle of toad entrails burst on the far shelf, startling him from his brooding. A cold chill ran up his spine.

No. It would not do to think murderous thoughts with Dumbledore only a few floors above. His position was still too tenuous. He was far too vulnerable. He relaxed his grip on the cauldron, forcing himself to calm down, his breathing to steady.

Staring vacantly into the empty cauldron, he knew now what he had to do. The only thing he could do. He took out his wand and repaired the broken bottle, then flicked at the quill on his desk to make himself a note to obtain more of its contents.

Filling the black kettle with the proper volume of water base, he recalled to mind the instructions which he would be following.

Focus, he ordered himself. Concentrate. Like a meditative mantra, the instructions ran through his mind from memory and then he murmured them aloud. As he had dozens of times before, he began calling the ingredients to him one by one and adding them to the fusion. Calling, mixing, stirring, and counting, clockwise, then counterclockwise, he fell into its calming rhythm as the mesmerizing colors and fragrance of the The Draft of Peace began to be brought forth. The combined art and science of potion making once again allowed Severus Snape to lose himself for a time, to re-center himself in the calming zen of potion brewing. One more time the ancient magic of the motion and the smells allowed him to retain his sanity in an altogether insane world.

Though it compromised the integrity of the draught, Snape paused once more in the midst of a count, staring into the cauldron, but seeing more than the glittering concoction. Somehow he knew that Lily Evans Potter was not much longer for this world, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.


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Inkwolf August 10th, 2005 8:33 am

DISCLAIMER: As usual, I am only being silly, and have no intention to offend anyone, poke fun at anyone's beliefs, or make any sort of statement. I hope people will bear this in mind and approach this POV with the same sick sense of humor with which it was written.

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Voldemort's Witnesses


"Aren't you driving on the wrong side of the street?"

Severus Snape ignored Lucius Malfoy, and turned the shiny green Saturn down a pot-holed back road through cow pastures. They had been driving for hours. Snape always forgot how far apart everything was in America.

"Can I drive?"

"Oh, do you know how?" Snape asked coolly. He took a perverse pride in his more muggley accomplishments, and made a point of driving a manual-shift car, because it was more complicated.

"Well, it can't be too hard, muggles do it all the time," Lucius grumbled. "Besides, how am I supposed to get around when you've gone back to England?"

"Good point," said Snape. He stopped the car. "You take the wheel. Time for a driving lesson." He got out of the car and walked around it. The cows watched with dull curiosity from beyond the wire fence. Lucius hoisted himself over the stick shift, and was behind the wheel by the time Severus slipped into the passenger's seat.

"Now, that is the clutch, down by your feet, and that is the brake--are you listening to me?"

Lucius was tugging irritably at a loose thread on the cuff of his black suit. "These clothes reek of shoddy tailoring," he grumbled. "What IS this stuff they're made of?"

"It's called polyester," said Severus. "Think of it as a miracle of modern Muggle technology. Now pay attention." He carefully explained how an automobile was controlled, and after a few stalls, Lucius managed to get the car moving down the road in a series of jerks and lurches. Snape kept a death grip on the steering wheel with one hand.

After several more miles of serene but dull farming scenery, they drove into a small town.

"Good job, Lucius," Snape lied. "Now pull over to the curb." Lucius attempted to brake without engaging the clutch, and the car stalled again. Snape shrugged and left the car standing in the middle of the street. "Have you got the books?" he asked.

Lucius held up a black, leather-bound book with the Dark Mark etched on the cover, and a heavy suitcase. Snape nodded. He walked up to the front door of a house and knocked.

A muggle woman, barefoot and in sweat pants, answered the door. "Yes?" she asked.

"Ma'am," said Snape politely, "Can you spare a moment? We'd like to talk to you about your future, and the kingdom of the Lord--" The door was slammed in their faces immediately.

Snape turned away, to find himself face-to-face with a wand-wielding Lucius Malfoy.

"Put that thing away!" he snapped.

"Insolent muggle!" Lucius snarled. "Move aside, Severus, I'm going to blast the door off its hinges!"

"No you are not," Snape hissed sharply between his teeth as he seized Lucius's wrist and dragged him down the sidewalk. "I put my neck out begging the Dark Lord to help you escape from Azkaban, and he's given you this task, and you WILL do it properly, as the Dark Lord commands it done!"

Lucius's snarl had turned into a pout. "But I didn't even get a chance to see Narcissa, first," Lucius complained in a tone that....well, if it had been Draco, Snape would have called it a whine. "When can I see my wife?"

"If everything goes well, she may get to see you sooner than you think," said Snape. "For now, the Dark Lord wishes you to spread the word of his coming."

"But he's not coming, not here," pointed out Lucius. "Not till he's finished with England, at least."

"Right, and he wants the people of America mentally prepared to accept him as their ruler as soon as possible afterward," Snape reminded him. "With our undercover man in California and the agents in Washington DC, it's only a matter of time before he can legally be elected president and take instant command of the Muggle nation. There is a very low wizard-to-muggle ratio in this country, so there will be no one to stop us. All we need is some good public relations and we're golden. Just downplay the 'dark' aspect, okay?"

By this time they had arrived at the next door. Snape hesitated. "You ring this one," he ordered. "You're...better looking than I am."

"Why, Severus, you're too kind." Lucius smirked and pushed the doorbell. A bony old man in a white, sleeveless t-shirt full of holes opened the door and peered out at them warily.

"My friend," said Lucius with his most charming smile. "Have you heard the good news about the coming of the Lord--"

The door slammed.

Fifty seven slammed doors later, Severus Snape sat down on the curb to rest. His feet hurt, and he was heartily sick of Lucius Malfoy. Though he had been accustomed to think of his friend as a pillar of arrogant strength, it was now clear that when he was pushed out of his comfort zone, Lucius turned into a pampered, sulky child.

"Let's just go home and tell the Dark Lord his plan sucks," Lucius whined. "I want to see my wife."

"I told you," Snape said evenly. "Disappoint the Dark Lord again, and he will personally turn you into a very fresh, very large order of takeout sushi. Stay here and obey orders, and your wife will be all over you before you know it."

Lucius continued to pout. "I'm hungry. And I need a drink. And I'm getting a blister on my heel."

Snape sighed. "All right, one more door, and we'll knock off for the day and find a pub."

They wandered up the walk of the last house in the street and knocked.

A woman came to the door, clutching a shotgun in one hand and glaring suspiciously.

Fifty-eight, thought Snape.

"Madam" said Lucius, forcing the charming smile again. "My friend and I have come to spread the word of the coming of the Lord--"

"Well, why didn't you say so?" she said, putting aside the gun. "Come on in, boys!"

The woman ushered them into a quaintly-decorated sitting room and bustled around, serving them lemonade and biscuits as they talked.

"It's been a long day," Lucius was saying. "So few people want to hear the word of the Lord..."

"Ain't that a fact," the woman agreed.

"And we even have this lovely, leather-bound book, all about the Lord's plan for humanity," said Lucius. "I mean, look at how gorgeous it is. And the illustrations...see, look here--here's the Lord making merry with the select few who follow him...and here's a picture of all those who are unworthy of him, roasting in the flames of torment for all time..."

The woman was nodding vehemently. "Amen! Serve them right!" she crowed.

"Er....'them'?" said Lucius, puzzled. Snape elbowed him sharply in the ribs and stood.

"Well, Madam, we thank you for your hospitality, but we must be off, spreading the word. But we'd like you to keep this book and familiarize yourself with its contents." Snape put the leather-bound book on the table.

"Well, thank you," she said. "Er, how much?"

"No charge for the book," said Lucius. "Though you are, of course, welcome to make a donation toward our continued work here."

As they walked away from the house, the woman called, "By the way, boys, just a little advice. Get your hair cut! I nearly shot you coming up the walk. Thought you were hippies or something."

Lucius was frowning at the slip of paper in his hands. "What IS this, Severus?"

"It's a check," Snape answered. "It's like a draft on a muggle bank."

"It's got a cartoon bear on it," Lucius protested.

Snape looked at the check, and decided not to admit being able to identify Winnie the Pooh. "Never mind," he said. "Trust me, we can take that to the muggle bank, and get muggle money for it. But first we have a much more urgent task to complete."

Ten minutes later, Lucius was sitting on a park bench as Severus stood behind him with a pair of shears and removed his long, blonde tresses.

"It's not fair," Lucius was pouting again. "I can't see why I need a haircut and you don't."

"It's because I'm returning to England soon, and you'll be staying here and carrying on with your mission."

Lucius examined his newly-cropped head in a hand mirror with distaste. "Maybe it's a good thing Narcissa won't be seeing me," he said.

But she will be seeing you, thought Snape, discreetly pocketing a handful of Lucius's silken hairs. And, like I said...much sooner than you think.

Ah, the wonders of polyjuice....

kneaslyweasly August 11th, 2005 5:48 pm

lol Hi:)

I discovered this thread last night and was up until a very late hour reading the posts. I have now finally stopped laughing and have decided to join in. I have been inspired by the more summery Snape stories and my pitiful offering is about a side of A4 so apologies if it is too long.

Enjoy! :)


A Snape in the Sand


As he heard the final poot of the train’s horn as it disappeared into the tunnel Severus Snape felt one of the numerous weights lift from his mind.

It was a sultry day although the warmth barely penetrated Snape’s underground lair. However, it had managed to penetrate the small corners of his shrivelled, blackened heart.

“Thank Merlin” thought Snape as he packed his bucket and spade into his suitcase. “It’s been a long term; I am so … pleased that it is the end of the academic year.”

Snape added his striped knee-length bathing suit to the odd assortment of beachwear he had arranged in his case and then he used a colloportus spell (Non-verbal – naturally) to shut it as his rubber ring zebra would not fit however much he tried to beat it down.

Snape arranged his hat at a jaunty angle and the marched purposefully to the edge of the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He looked back at the ancient castle and allowed himself a small smirk. He wouldn’t have to come back here for a full six weeks and could instead indulge himself in his summer pursuits. He adored the summer. In fact it could almost be said that he loved the summer (though not as much as he had loved Lily – sob!). He lusted after the rays of the sun, willing them to beat down upon his pasty pale flesh, filling him with life and Vitamin D.

Snape went through the gate that led to the outside world and promptly apparated (he had read Hogwarts: A History) to a small British seaside town named Riddleton-on-Sea. Quickly, almost as if he was using foolish wand waving magic Snape had set up a small purple tent on the promenade, directly opposite the Waltzers and within a bezoar’s throw of the sea.

Snape chalked a folding sign up and placed it outside his tent. He stood in the cool puffs of wind issuing from the shoreline. He enjoyed the sensation of a healthy breeze around his privates. He bought an ice cream from a muggle stall (no chocolate-chocolate-mandrake chip though – bah!) and settled himself inside his tent to wait.

It wasn’t long before a dirty filthy mudblood (no offence intended) showed up and poked an expectant face around the velvet curtain.


“Are you Sea-versus Snap-pay?”
“Indeed”
The Sea-versus Snap-pay?”
“I have already answered your question. Do not waste my time.”
“Will you tell my future then?”
“I suppose. Sit down and look into my crystal ball”.

Snape loved the summer. He had always felt misunderstood throughout the rest of the year. He lived to practise the Divinanatory Arts.

thestralgrin August 12th, 2005 6:15 pm

Ok, something of a magic mixture here, a bit of a surreal ramble on what characters get up to during the 'holidays' between books:

Getting Away from it All

Voldemort finished his speech, and Severus was finally free to apparate. By The Purple Bowed Braids Of Merlin's Big Frizzy Beard!, he thought in annoyance, as he saw the waiting room materialise around him. I definitely preferred Albus's End-Of-Book pep-talks to ... the Dark Lord Moldypant's usual 'Pureblood this', 'Annihilate that' ranting

Walking over to the magazine pile, he selected one that seemed mildly interesting (a Muggle publication that apparently specialized in selling feminine underwear and beauty products ... with photos) - then he looked for a seat.

There was a spot right next to a window, which looked good. A pointed-eared being with a neat pageboy haircut occupied the seat next to it - he noticed a triangular badge on it's somehow familiar uniform. It brought back dim memories of a show on his father’s TV, about a big white ship that could fly through the stars.

He vaguely remembered catching glimpses of it sometimes, before his father would barge into the room and change the channel to watch the wrestling. As he sat down, the being raised his hand, fingers parted in the middle - and bade that he lived long and prosper. Then offered his condolences on what happened in the book.

Sweet Merlin's rusty headpiece! Severus thought in annoyance, surely there is some creature out there in the universe that *hasn’t* read those books, and therefore *doesn’t* have an opinion on me ... he scowled back at the pointy-eared being - who just shrugged, and went on meditating. Doing his best to appear nonchalant, Severus sat down to scan through the magazine.

He tried to focus on looking at the pictures while he waited. He didn’t want to let himself think too much right now ... thinking had an unwelcome habit of dredging things up ... raw-feeling things that hadn’t had time yet to grow decently numb. But his mind was stubborn - try as he may to focus on the magazine, he could not hold back the memory of the last time he had been given a lemon drop ... on that day before, after that one last argument in the office. Albus had insisted he stay by his word, and to follow That Order when the time came.

He remembered walking out of the door, and hearing the elder wizard call his name ... and when he turned around, saw him walking up holding an open jar of the things in that dead hand of his. "Severus - take one, please" he had said ... and Severus remembered the sudden feeling in his guts that this was not the time to refuse.

He remembered putting the sweet in his mouth on the way back to his dungeon, instead of pocketing it to later feed to a potion ingredient - like he normally did. He remembered how nice it actually tasted ... a lump tightened in his throat, which he fought to relax.

Don’t you go regressing back to what you were, lad!, he admonished himself. The thought of him embarrassing himself in the waiting-room - in front of the other characters - enabled him to get some control back, though he had to close the magazine. At the moment, the pictures interested him as much as one of Slughorn's old cartoon annuals. He thought of what his old colleagues would be doing at Hogwarts right now.

I suppose now, it would be Minerva and her ginger newts, he thought sadly. He would have loved to have attended the Hogwarts End-Of-Book speech ... and maybe even the Order's, if only for a distraction. Something to help stop the Dark Lord's hypocritical dreck from bouncing about in his mind, like a hexed remembrall.

But this year, it was out of the question. He had become too controversial, to put it mildly. He probably wouldn’t be able to go within a league of the castle now, without running the risk of having that Potter Boy flying kamikaze-style at him on a broomstick, accompanied by a swarm of bludgers charmed with heaven knows what kinds of hex ...

Next! called out a female voice - Mr. Severus Snape, could you please come up to the counter, please! -

It was finally his turn. He walked across the carpet to the greet the clerk behind her counter, trying to ignore the whispered cheers and catcalls that followed him out from the waiting room I should have thought this through when I signed up, he thought, But then, she *did* promise me decent holiday time between books, and she didn’t force me to wear that turban after all...

The clerk was a tall, bespectacled squib, with a round face and bushy hair. She could probably give Bulstrode a decent run in the arm-wrestling department, Severus idly thought. "So ... you are Mr. Severus Snape, is that correct?" she asked.
No, you moron - I'm SkekTek the Scientist** in a bathrobe he thought, while his mouth merely snapped out a "yes".

"And you'd like to book up some fanfics to stay in until the next canon book is published - is that correct?" No, I'd actually prefer to sit around in limbo he thought, while responding with another "yes".

"Well, let's see what there is available for you, then" continued the squib, while hammering a few keys on a computer (the various components of which were loosely adorned with mini-photograph albums, stickers left over from its previous owner, a quartz crystal paperweight big enough to make even Trelawney envious, a motley collection of plastic fauna) ...

"Well, you certainly do have quite a fair range of options, Mr. snape" she finally said, turning her screen so that he could see the figures for himself. She was right - there was a staggering number of places available for him.

Well! I suppose in all the drama that went on last year, it was easy to forget the benefits of being popular Snape thought, starting to feel better. Now...there should be at least a couple of nice, long, decently written ones where I'm not forced to act to too strangely, don’t get killed, maimed, afflicted with a terminal illness, married off to some weirdly dressed dance instructor whose eyes change colour, kick marauders (or worse) out of my quarters, wear pink, wear leather, endure some new marauder prank, get crucio-ed, cursed or half-turned into a girl by the Dark Lord, get beaten up (or worse) by death eaters, hold babies, even be in the same room as one, get yelled at by my father, attacked by That Potter Boy, nurse my mother, be half-polyjiuced into a unicorn, of all ludicrous things (for some reason, he had a sudden urge to glare at the squib woman when he came to that part of the litany ...)

...or have to go through that canon-trauma all over again. he thought, I just want a couple of nice, long, relaxing fics where I can just read a few good books, catch some sun, sleep in, have tea and lemon drops with Albus & the others, watch some good quidditch matches, get a compliment from a nice witch or two, teach DADA to students who actually want to make an effort ...

Severus was grateful for the choices he had; a few more fics than he cared to remember had started out promising, but then morphed without warning into The Holiday from Hell. There was one - he had never quite been able to get it out of his mind - where he ..., well, he'd rather not dwell on what happened in that one, though Albus (Thank Merlin!) was diplomatic enough to ask no more questions after the Back-To-Book debriefing ...

But still, he didn’t want to take all day going through all the options. He decided to make the squib work a little harder for her keep - "Since there appears to be a decent range of places for me," he said, "you will now do a customised search for a fanfic that conforms to the following criteria ..."

Severus began to go through a detailed list of things he had no particular wish to experience during his holiday. "And", he said, "It also has to have at least two of the following things in it" - and he next gave a list of the things that, in his mind, made a holiday worthwhile.

"And, if possible, I'd like to see Albus or Lily again. Preferably alive, if possible - and also behaving in a recognisably familiar way - if possible" - Severus remembered one unpleasant little fic where the headmaster, to his horror, had turned out to be almost as sinister as the Dark Lord ...

"I'll see what I can find" replied the squib. Then she turned on a song which sounded vaguely like an orchestra of car engines, and started sifting her way through the stack. "If you care to take a seat, Mr. Snape" she said, "This may take a while".

It took three hours of scouring (through which Severus was forced to endure an onslaught of Muggle music that ranged from the passably tolerable to the blatantly unlistenable), before she finally finished, and turned the screen towards him so that he could see the results ... Severus was outraged.

"Do you mean to say, that the only two fics around where I don’t have to act like a Nancy, get killed, get maimed, get afflicted with a terminal illness, get married off to some weirdly dressed dance instructor whose eyes change colour, go home to find a marauder (or worse) in my kitchen, wear pink, wear leather, have some new marauder prank played on me, get crucio-ed, get cursed, get half-turned into a girl, get roughed up by the death eaters, deal with babies, put up with my parents, cope with That Potter Boy, look like a unicorn ..." he paused for a breath, "and get to do even remotely interesting things with people I actually like" he continued, are crossovers?!?"

"I'm afraid so" said the squib, "But its not as if you don’t know your way around the country already, as long as you keep away from the ring wraiths, and steer clear of Legolas when he's in one of his arrow-happy moods - you should be fine. I hear Lothlorien's quite a nice place at this time of the year" "

"Ehhh...what about Narnia, then? Or Malacandra?***" Inquired Severus. He was starting to grow weary of that particular place … "Hold on" said the squib ... "Nothing for Malacandra, unfortunately ...but there's three Narnia places you can have" - she showed him the screen again.

"Well... one of them is only 500 words long, and the only reason I turn up in it is so that the vampire girl hero in the black leather boots can stab me to death with her midnight black vampire talons - that change colour with her moods - after which, with Aslan's blessing, she abducts Prince Caspian and departs for the Caribbean on her Pirate ship the Bloody Mary".

He studied at the next one - "And that one, though it seems reasonably pleasant, appears to require me getting married to ... a giant rabbit?! - no! Not that one" ... he moved on to read the last one "And I did stipulate quite strongly that I want to have absolutely nothing to do with babies!" he muttered in a low, dangerous voice.

"So, there's not much other choice then" he concluded with a voice of mild resignation. "That other world it is - so which of the two do you recommend?" "I would say the one where you help Aragorn defeat the stone giants" replied the squib,

"It's reasonably well written” she continued, “a nice decent length, you act yourself most of the time, Lily turns up in chapter five and you get to have dinner with her and Dumbledore - who is married to McGonagall in this one by the way - Harry is the son of Legolas and Lobelia Sackville-Baggins" (Severus stifled a giggle) "... and no mention of the marauders. The best thing about it though, is that it seems to be nearly finished."

"Good!" said Severus, rubbing his long-fingers in satisfaction - "That means there should be no nasty little surprises at the end". "So, do you want to book it?" asked the squib "Yes!" he replied, "I'll just be off to get my things ready. Please keep a check on that other fic too - in case I might want to go there afterwards. Our Boss told us that she would be giving us all an extended break before the last instalment, so I want to make this holiday all the more worthwhile ... just in case ..."

Severus added the last part in a more subdued voice.

The squib caught his gist - "I understand" she said, "do you have any ... particularly special ones that you'd like me to keep aside for you ... just in case, you know ..." "I will think about it during my holidays, and inform you on what I decide" he said, "it may be prudent for me to pre-book a hereafter, but I may wait to see what Canon has in store for me".

Severus turned to leave. He had taken a few steps, when he paused, and turned to look at the squib. "And just one other thing ..." he said. "Do not ever try to turn me into a unicorn again, or I will have to hex you. Goodbye"

And he went home to pack for the holiday.

(** = a Dark Crystal reference)
(*** = from Out Of The Silent Planet)

Ducken August 13th, 2005 12:36 am

More excellent fics! Inkwolf, I love your Voldemort's Witnesses POV, very funny.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Inkwolf
By this time they had arrived at the next door. Snape hesitated. "You ring this one," he ordered. "You're...better looking than I am."
:lol: I don't believe it. Surely Snape knows how good-looking he is, even with the greasy hair and hooked nose and odd walk and.... Never mind, I guess he's got a point :)

The_Black_Adder, your POV was really good as well. Everyone's right, you do have a really great writing style. Keep up the good work!

Quote:

Originally Posted by kneaslyweasly
Snape added his striped knee-length bathing suit to the odd assortment of beachwear he had arranged in his case and then he used a colloportus spell (Non-verbal – naturally) to shut it as his rubber ring zebra would not fit however much he tried to beat it down.
:rotfl: Oh my.... I hope the bathing suit is black and white striped, it'll match the zebra ring.

Quote:

Originally Posted by thestralgrin
...be half-polyjiuced into a unicorn....
:lol: I really enjoyed your fic where he turns into a unicorn (or centaur, I guess), but I suppose I can see why Snape would have a problem with it. :p It makes me feel a bit bad, after the stuff I've put him through in some of my own fics.... But I just can't make myself stop....

All right, I was perusing theories on the forums the other day, and one in particular caught my attention and inspired this fic… Sorry, Snape. :)
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Severus Snape strode purposefully down the deserted Hogwarts corridor, painfully aware of the slight bounce that was marring his otherwise smooth step. He could hardly be blamed for his less than intimidating walk, however, for he was on his way to set up his brand new classroom. The classroom he had coveted, dreamed about, and practically begged for for nearly sixteen years.

He reached the door and, with a feeling of satisfaction, swung it wide open. At long last, it was finally his, and so was the subject taught within its hallowed walls. Severus Snape, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor…It had a certain flair about it…

Snape set his suitcase on the top of the desk and opened it carefully. A young wizard with a goat’s head and blood spurting from the neck region stared up at him, and Snape smiled grimly. This one can go at the front of the classroom, he thought, and he fastened it to the wall with a flick of his wand.

He continued to remove pictures from his suitcase and hang them around the room, and he was really getting into it when the door opened with a crash and a blur of black rushed to his side and grabbed him into a fierce embrace.

“What in blazes are you doing, woman?” Snape demanded, pushing roughly at the figure that had him in a death grip.

The vulture-like features of the school librarian turned upward to meet Snape’s indignant gaze, and Madam Pince released him and straightened the few hairs that had fallen from her bun. “I’m not allowed to greet my son, even though he’s taken on a cursed job and will only be around for one more year?” she asked, giving him a nasty look.

Shut up!” Snape hissed, and he swept over to the doorway and peered into the hall. It was still deserted, but he made sure to slam the door shut before turning to face his mother again.

“Really, you’ve got absolutely no right to speak to me like that,” she huffed before he could speak. “I did NOT raise you to be disrespectful to your parents or to treat your own mother as if she was nothing more than a common hag.”

“If you are not more careful, the students will start to suspect something,” Snape said coldly, aware of the death look Madam Pince had trained on him. “You know Dumbledore has said that no one except the professors and Filch is to know about our…connection.”

“Connection indeed,” Madam Pince fumed, but her gaze had become distinctly less malevolent and, one might hesitate to say, somewhat dreamy at the mention of Filch. Snape quickly quelled the feelings of deepest revulsion that threatened to drown him, and tried to think of some way to get his mother out of the room.

“It’s only a matter of time until people find out,” he said, twisting his hands together. “Between these mother/son moments and your useless anagram of a fake name, someone is bound to figure out the truth.”

“And just what do you mean by ‘useless anagram of a fake name’?” Madam Pince asked, her tone icy.

“Surely you’ve realized that ‘Irma Pince’ is an anagram for “I’m a Prince”,” Snape snapped. “Not one of your more clever moments, is it?”

Madam Pince straightened to her full height and shook an angry finger at Snape. “It’s a lot more clever than yours!” she shrieked, her finger now shaking of its own accord. “‘Perseus Evans’ to ‘Severus Snape.’ As if no one will ever figure that out!”

“Mother, what on earth are you talking—”

“If anyone manages to decode your fake name, they’ll connect you to your sister Lily, and I shudder to think how that will affect the world,” Madam Pince said, and she actually trembled. “And anyone who knows who you really are can look you up in the Directory of Registered Vampires. Then you’ll not only be a night-wandering bloodsucking ghost, you’ll be an unemployed night-wandering bloodsucking ghost, and you are not moving back home with me.”

Snape surveyed his red-faced, wild-eyed mother in disbelief. The pressure of guarding books day and night must finally be taking its toll on her sanity, he thought. He then took a deep breath and said, in the calmest yet deadliest tone he could muster, “Mother, if any of what you just said was true, and not twisted rumors concocted by students and intended for weak minds like your own, then you could not be my mother, and we are not lucky enough for such a miracle.” Snape took another deep breath before continuing. “‘Evans’ cannot be my last name, as I only ever had ‘Snape’ and ‘Prince’ to choose between. We both know that I have had my father’s last name since birth. Also, because no Perseus Evans exists, I cannot be in the Directory of Registered Vampires and, unless Lily Evans is somehow your daughter, she cannot be my sister.”

Madam Pince looked as though she wanted to keep arguing but seemed unable to think of a way to refute any of his points. Finally she let out a sigh of irritation and began to make for the doorway. But before she reached it, her back tensed and she turned around, the wild-eyed glint still evident.

“Don’t expect unlimited access to the Restricted Section,” she said nastily, and then, with a final huff and a narrowing of the eyes, she opened the door, exited, and slammed it shut behind her.

Snape turned back to his pictures and lifted the next one from his suitcase. As he contemplated the expressionless Inferi, he smirked. All teachers were given unlimited access to the Restriction Section, and there was not a bloody thing she could do about it.
*****
~Written by Ducken, proud supporter of the Madam-Pince-is-Really-Eileen-Prince-and-Therefore-Snape’s-Mother theory. ;)

MoonysAngel August 14th, 2005 7:03 am

Oh, Subtle, that was superb! You write so very well!

Well, as promised (or would that be threatened? :evil: ), here is the sequel to "Lord Voldemort's Christmas Party"--I call it "Lord Voldemort's Birthday Party"


Snape leaned against the warm spot by the fireplace, with a sinking sense of déj* vu. Back again, celebrating the Dark Lord’s birthday. Oh, how I love the Dark Lord’s parties, he thought, dodging Unforgivables and those relentless Black sisters. At least I don't have to watch for mistletoe.
Snape surveyed the room, wishing for the night to end. Gone were the pathetic tree and the oversized Christmas stocking. Instead, a large shiny disco ball hung from the ceiling, with loud music blaring from the wireless, and giant streamers that read “Happy Birthday Dark Lord!” and “Voldemort Rules!” The table was piled with food, punch, and presents. Hmm, thought Snape, no cake. Didn’t he give that job to Narcissa?
It was common knowledge among the Death Eaters that Narcissa was not only a terrible cook; she was a dangerous one. The last time she’d tried to cook anything, she’d set her kitchen on fire. It was only Lucius’ quick actions that had saved their house. Since then, she’d been forbidden to set foot inside her kitchen unless it was to tell a house elf something.
Snape eyed the pile of presents, picking out his gift, wrapped in green paper with a silver ribbon. It was a Dark Mark carved from green jade that had eaten up three months’ salary. He’d better like it. I could’ve bought lots of lovely books with that money.
Wormtail had rushed out the first day after Christmas that the shops opened back up, and purchased a present. It was wrapped in shiny blue paper, on top of the stack. Wormtail himself was in the kitchen (again) bringing out food and drink.
Lord Voldemort swirled by. “Great party, eh, Severus?” he asked, as he danced with Bellatrix, who smirked at Snape. Did I just see one of those silly birthday hats on him?
Narcissa walked up to Snape. “Dance?”
“Don’t you have to bake a cake or something? Set fire to the oven, or explode pots and pans? Cause havoc and mayhem?” Narcissa smiled evilly. “The cake is taken care of. But I let Wormtail put the candles on—he was pouting so.”
“Cake? Who said cake? I want my birthday cake!” Voldemort had danced by with Bellatrix and overheard their conversation.
“Of course, my Lord! Let me go get it!” Narcissa raced into the kitchen. She reappeared moments later, with a large cake that she set on the table. Everyone looked at it, impressed. The icing was swirled artistically; it had dark ribbons of icing along the sides, and what appeared to be marzipan Dark Marks on the top! Candles ringed the cake, in little holders made of more icing. Voldemort eyed the candles. He appeared to be counting them. “Did you put the candles on, Narcissa?” Voldemort asked, dangerously.
“Well, I let Wormtail do the candles.”
“WORMTAIL! Get out here!” Wormtail raced out of the kitchen, red and sweaty.
“Y-yes, my Lord? Is there a problem?”
“Can you count, little rat? Do you not know my age? I am NOT SIXTY-FOUR!
“My Lord! I counted, I promise I did!” Wormtail was shaking.
Snape quietly tucked the box of extra candles deeper in to his hidden pocket. Time for another round of Wormtail Crucio…
Several minutes later, Voldemort turned back to his cake. He cut himself a large slice, and tasted it. He looked at Narcissa. “Who made the cake, Narcissa? You certainly didn’t.” Narcissa looked down at the floor. “I kidnapped someone to make it for me.”
“Really? Who?” Everyone was looking at Narcissa with interest.
“Martha Stewart.”
The Martha Stewart made my birthday cake?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Narcissa, I don’t know how to thank you. This is the best cake I’ve ever eaten.” Voldemort was beaming at her. Narcissa looked at him.
“Could-you-get-Lucius-out-of-Azkaban-please?” she asked in one breath.
Voldemort looked at her. “Let me think about that--no. Nope. Lucius stays in prison. Nice try.” Narcissa fell at his feet, pleading. She got all teary-eyed, and looked up at him. She’s giving him the look that got me stuck in the Unbreakable Vow, Snape thought, let’s see him say no to that!
“No!” Voldemort raised his wand at Narcissa, who squeaked, and ran to hide behind her sister. “Hey! Don’t hide behind me!” Bellatrix snarled. “You don’t hear me whining about Rudolphus being stuck in Azkaban too!”
“Well, unlike you, I miss my husband.” Bellatrix whirled around to face Narcissa. “I do so miss my husband! I’m just not going to sit around and whine about how much I miss him, like you do! ‘Oh, I miss Lucius so. Oh, I’ve not been kissed in months. Oh, I’m so lonely!’ You sound like a pathetic Muggle romance book!” Narcissa was well angry by now. “Well, at least Lucius kisses better that your husband!” she spat.
“How would you know?”
Suddenly, there was a blur as the sisters leapt at each other, pulling hair, scratching, and trying to bite each other. The other Death Eaters gathered around, shouting encouragement, and taking bets.
“Hmm. Four galleons on Bella to win. What do you think, Severus? Fancy a bet?”
“No, thank you, my Lord. I think I’ll just watch.” This is actually fun. Good cake, Wormtail got zapped, and now the sisters are scrapping.
After several minutes, Voldemort got bored, and hexed both sisters with his wand, sending them flying across the room in opposite directions.
“Well now,” he said, “I think that’s enough excitement. After all, this is my birthday party. Kiss and make up, now.” The sisters moved towards each other. “No, no, not each other.” Voldemort smiled most evilly, his red eyes gleaming. “My birthday. Kiss me.” Snape smirked as both sisters tried to hide their brief expressions of horror. Yes, things were definitely looking better and better…

In a dark corner near the fireplace, two small mice watched the proceedings with interest. One was small, with an oversized head and a calculating expression. The other was tall and thin, with an air of dottiness. “Yes,” the small one said, “these ‘magic’ humans will do nicely for my plans. We shall start with the one they call ‘Wormtail.’” It looked up at the taller mouse. “Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?”
“I think so, Brain,” the taller one replied, “but I’m allergic to pumpkin juice. Besides, Brain, what are we going to do tonight?”
“The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world!”

UselessCharmMaster August 14th, 2005 6:56 pm

I love you all, people. :love: :lol:

And now... a little piece of mine. Not very good, :sad: rather poor attempt of a story, but still...

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I'm ready. Ready for another fantastic, dreamed, and well-earned DADA lesson. I must only be careful with this boggart, not to show the students the shape it takes for me...
The door opens and I can see the Headmaster wearing his typical inquisitive look.

"Severus, may I ask you something before you go?"

I nod quickly, expecting some unplesant surprise.

"There were... strange sounds coming from your office at night... Were you singing?"

Oh no. Again.

"I was practising Healing Incantations, Headmaster. I like to be ready, after what happened to..."

"Severus, please. 'I'm too sexy' is not very similar to any Healing Incantation I know".

"Well, probably I was just singing in the shower... I often do, when washing my hair."

"Do you wash your hair twice a day, Severus?" he asks, a bit ironically.

Thrice, for your information, and it gives no results, anyway. I open my mouth, feeling really angry. So this is now Dumbledore's turn to hear at the doors? Between him at school and Wormtail at home, I have no right of any privacy. Soon I'll be afraid of going to the loo. Dumbledore raises his hand and stops me before I can protest.

"Severus, I want to be clear. I can't let you become a rock star, no matter how much you desire it. I gave you the job you wanted only to keep you here, but I'll never let you go. Think of all the promises you made to me."

"I never forget them" I answer through my clenched teeth. We both know that because of his hand he won't be able to play his banjo anymore, and I strongly suspect that's why he's so willing to ruin my dreams.

"Good. I feared another argument. I'm glad you understand." He's beaming now, and I feel like I could kill him on the spot. "Good photos of the Inferi, by the way. Where did you get them?" he adds, pointing at my beloved Marylin Manson posters.

***

I'm still fuming three hours after, in the Death Eaters' Headquarters, and, much as I try to conceal my bad mood, the Dark Lord notices something.

"What is it, Severus?"

Bellatrix looks at me, smirking. Some day I will bite her head off.

"Dumbledore" I answer simply. "Please, my Lord, don't even ask."

"Dumbledore" repeats the Dark Lord softly. "Well, then you will be very pleased with the main subject of this meeting. I'd like to inform you all - Greyback, stop chasing fleas and listen to me! - that Draco's task has been changed. Forget the secret of Dumbledore's Anti-Hair-Loss Unguent. We can use the boy to something far bigger."

Merlin's beard!

---------------
ahem... no offense meant to the MM fans...

Inkwolf August 14th, 2005 7:38 pm

Aaaah, UCM, loved it! :rotfl:
Quote:

"Good photos of the Inferi, by the way. Where did you get them?" he adds, pointing at my beloved Marylin Manson posters.
:rotfl:

And now we know what happened--Draco's task was upgraded! Darned sneaky Dark Lords!

This is probably not one of my best, but I've been sort of itching to write it for a while...

---------------------------------------------


"Oh, no," thought Severus Snape. "Not another 'bonding' session." He wished heartily that Voldemort had never read that blasted book on morale building.

The Death Eaters, uncomfortable and embarassed in their odd clothes, stood on a deserted rectangle of asphault along a filthy street in inner-city London. The sun was up, so the vampire-like denizens of this bit of 'turf' (if you could call it that--not a blade of grass in sight) had picked up their gang-colored grafitti cans and gone home. Snape was glad there were no witnesses. Wearing the tee-shirt (his favorite, the one that said 'Don't Question Authority--it doesn't know either') and the silky grey shorts felt like being out in the street in his underwear. As for the weird footgear Voldemort had insisted on their wearing...well, Snape couldn't deny they were comfortable, but they looked completely outlandish.

At least Voldemort was wearing more or less the same. Snape averted his eyes from the Dark Lord's spindly, scaly, fish-belly-white legs and knobby knees.

Voldemort shut the gate of the chain-link fence surrounding them. It closed with an ominous clang.

They were trapped.

"For today's team-building exercise," said Voldemort, pulling a large, pumpkin-like ball from behind his back, "we are going to be indulging in a game the Muggles refer to as 'hoops.' We will divide into two teams, and each team gets points every time they make the quaffle--erm I mean 'ball'--drop through the enemy goal."

As he listened to Voldemort natter on about the rules of the game, Snape looked at the ends of the enclosure. At each end was a tall, rusty pole with a board at the top, on each of which which was mounted a metal hoop. Rotting strings dangled from the bottom of one hoop. The other was twisted at an odd angle.

"Any questions?" Voldemort said. "No? Let's divide into teams!"

"What team will you be on, My Lord?" asked Bellatrix, that incorrigible brown-noser.

"I will be switching between teams," said Voldemort. "I will be on whichever team is in possession of the ball. Bellatrix, Severus, you will be my captains. Choose your team members."

Snape and Bellatrix looked at the motley assortment of Death Eaters. Voldemort flipped a galleon, and the two captains called it. Bellatrix won.

"Right," said Voldemort. "Bella, you get first pick. Severus, you start out in possession."

"Rudolphus," said Bellatrix, obviously. Rudolphus went to her side.

"Malfoy," said Snape.

"Rabastan," said Bellatrix.

"Carrows."

"Dolohov."

"Nott."

"Mulciber."

It was happening just as Snape has suspected. Once more, it would be the Azkaban Death Eaters against the Ones who had Walked Free. They continued picking till they were down to the very dregs.

"Greyback," said Bellatrix.

"Avery," said Snape, gladly snagging the last half-decent Death Eater.

Bellatrix looked at the remaining two figures, biting her lip. Finally she said, "Crouch," and the shambling, soulless hulk of Barty Crouch shuffled forward, slack-jawed and empty-eyed.

Snape's face twisted in disgust as he said, "Fine, I'll take Wormtail." Peter Pettigrew rushed to join his team, despite his indignant expression.

"How do we tell the teams apart?" asked Rookwood.

"Shirts vs. Skins," said Grayback, shredding his jersey and looking hopefully at Bellatrix.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand. With a wave, the outfits of everyone on her team turned green.

"No fair, I wanted green," Snape grumbled. Bellatrix smirked at him, and turned all Grayback's body hair green.

Snape pulled out his wand, thoguht a moment, and then turned his clothes metallic silver. "How's this look?" he asked.

"Fantastic!" enthused Wormtail. Several of the others nodded, though a few muttered something about 'black' and Snape heard Lucius mutter something to Avery about holding out for something that matched his eyes.

"Silver it is," said Snape, waving his wand. He turned everyone's clothes blazing metallic, down to their shoes.

"Right, let's get started," said Voldemort, his own uniform turning silver. "Severus, you take the ball and dribble--that is, bounce--it down to the enemy hoop. They will try to block you from scoring. This is where teamwork becomes important...you must be willing to pass the ball to teammates who are in better positions than you are, to increase the chance of scoring. Just like Quidditch, only less so. Um...note, by the way, that the tallest members of the team have the best chance of making a score." He cleared his throat meaningfully, standing up to his full seven feet of height.

"Was that a subtle hint?" Snape wondered. Then Voldemort tossed him the ball.

The ball was heavier than a quaffle, and had an interestingly grippy texture. Snape bounced it on the asphault experimentally, and it made an odd, ringing noise. He felt a smile trying to spread across his face. He thought...just maybe...he might enjoy this.

"Let's go, then," he said, and set off bouncing the ball down to the other side of the pitch, his teammates flanking him. The odd shoes gave his every step an extra spring of energy.

In moments, Bellatrix's horde were amongst them, trying to snatch at the ball. Cornered, Snape bounced the ball to Avery, who panicked and handed it to Malfoy at once. Malfoy bulled his way through a knot of of the Azkabangers and came face-to-face with a snarling Grayback, standing between him and the hoop.

"Here!" Snape shouted, and Malfoy hurled the ball at him. "Accio ball!" The basketball swerved in midair, and in seconds it was being bounced the other direction by a cackling Bellatrix.

"Hey!" Snape protested.

"Time out!" Voldemort called. "No magic, Bellatrix!"

"But then it's just a MUGGLE game," Bellatrix protested with contempt.

"Are you questioning my orders?" Bellatrix looked stricken. "Right. Give me that ball." Voldemort gave the ball back to Malfoy, who stood outside the white boundary line. "When I blow the whistle, you try to throw it to Severus again. The Azkabangers are allowed to try to block it."

The whistle blew, and bedlam stood between Snape and Malfoy, jumping, shouting, and waving their arms. Somehow, miraculously, Malfoy spotted an opening, and the ball ricochetted off the floor and into Snape's waiting arms. Without hesitation, he made his way toward the unguarded enemy goal, his cheering teammates swarming in behind him to slow the enemy.

"I'm open!"

Snape blinked. Near the hoop stood Voldemort, his arms in the air. Both teams came to an uncertain stop.

Snape lobbed the ball into Voldemort's hands. Nobody tried to intercept it.

Voldemort careully tossed the ball into the air, where it bounced off the board and fell down through the hoop.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" Voldemort hooted, as several of the Death Eaters applauded politely. "Bellatrix, your team has the ball, now. Freebies, 2, Azkabangers, 0! Let's fix that!" Voldemort's outfit changed to green. Bellatrix seized the ball and began bouncing it down to toward the other end. Snape started, then headed after them as quickly as he could run.

Bellatrix did not quite have the knack of bouncing the ball as she ran, yet, and Snape easily caught up. He reached in from the side and knocked the ball out of her control. Unfortunately, it went right into Rabastan's hands, and he dodged Nott and Carrows and was under the hoop in seconds.

"I'm open" Voldemort shouted. Once again, the game came to a halt as Nott wordlessly tossed the ball to Voldemort. Voldemort's first throw missed the hoop, and he hurriedly informed them that that one 'didn't count.'

A moment later, the score was tied at 2-2, and Snape had the wonderful ball in his hands once more. He ran toward the Azkabanger goal, hoping to outdistance the enemy..and Voldemort...but teeth suddenly snapped shut next to his ear. With a yell of surprise, Snape jumped aside, and the snapping teeth narrowly missed his face.

"You're out of bounds!" Voldemort shouted.

"He tried to bite me!" said Snape with a quaver in his voice.

Voldemort looked sternly at Grayback. "Did you, Fenrir?"

"Maybe," Grayback muttered, wiping slobber off his chin.

"That's a personal foul," said Voldemort. "Severus gets a free shot." Snape pulled his wand out, debating what curse to use. "No, Severus, I mean with the ball. Since you are obviously distraught, I will take it for you."

Voldemort stood some distance from the hoop. "Now what happens is I get two throws at the hoop, each worth one point. Nobody is allowed to interfere." Snape watched, scowling and resentful, as Voldemort lowered the ball to between his knees and threw it up in a sickly arc that plopped it though the net. A second throw was less successful, the ball rolling around the rim of the hoop and falling off outside. Soon they were running for the other end of the pitch once more, Bellatrix in possession, and the score 2-3.

Snape tried to get near Bellatrix, but a solid wall of Azkabangers blocked his path. It looked as though Bella would have a free run toward the hoop. Snape ground his teeth in frustration.

Suddenly a small rat skittered through the running players, and Peter Pettigrew appeared in front of Bellatrix, snatching the ball away from her hand.

"WAY TO GO WORMTAIL!" Snape heard himself scream as the little man took the ball in the other direction.

"No magic! That's a foul!" Bellatrix protested, as a furious Grayback launched himself, snarling, at Pettigrew.

"Huh?" said Voldemort, who hadn't seen anything. But after a fierce protest by the green team, Voldemort gave Bellatrix the ball back, making her stand outside the boundary and try to throw to Rudolphus. Snape did his best to block the throw, but in a moment Rudolphus had the ball, and passed it to Mulciber, who turned and collided with the shambling hulk of Crouch, who was wandering aimlessly up and down the court. The ball slipped frm Mulciber's hands, and was snatched up by Malfoy, then stolen back by Grayback, who leaped toward the Freebie goal.

"I'm open!" shouted Voldemort from under the hoop. The game froze once more. Grayback was openly snarling. But after a moment's hesitation, he hurled the ball toward Voldemort.

It never reached him.

In a blur of sudden movement, Severus Snape had leaped between them, snatching the ball from the air. He charged toward the Azkabanger hoop at full speed. The only Azkabanger who had reacted quickly enough to get close to him was Bellatrix.

She reached in to try to steal the ball back, but Snape would not let her have it as easily as that. He spun in a circle, dribbling the ball just out of her reach and laughing out loud as he felt her not-long-enough arms groping around him, trying to get at the ball. The thundering footsteps of the rest of the Death Eaters drew closer. Snape stopped teasing Bellatrix and moved toward the hoop.

"I'm open!" shouted Voldemort, who had hastily turned back to silver. His eyes had an annoyed glow to them as he hurried toward the goal. "Severus, I'm open!"

Snape moved toward Voldemort, and dribbled the ball right past him. Leaping with all his strength, he slammed the ball through the hoop, gripping its edge with both hands.

He hung there, from the hoop, his feet dangling in the free air. "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" he screamed. "YEAH!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

He knew he would pay dearly for it.

But some things just needed to be done...

TheForce August 14th, 2005 9:14 pm

Whoa...so many new POVs to read...Ah...Snape...the hot-bed of inspiration ...:p

Well here's a POV from me. Do read it while I do some catching up as well... :)

A Severe Shock!

Severus Snape was having his habitual cup of morning tea with the customary dash of Ogden’s fiery best. It prepared him well for the day that stretched out before him; another dull day at Spinner’s End with Wormtail as company.
Having sipped the potent liquor he unfurled his copy of the Daily Prophet and glanced through the contents lazily. The usual pandemonium took up the front page (-yawn-), ministry bungling in the second (-smirk-), safety tips and precautionary advice on the third (-snort-) and finally the last page was devoted to the births, marriages and deaths; deaths being predominant in the present times. As he was glancing through the list with the bored eye he suddenly leaped into the air as if a teething tentacula had made contact with the fleshy parts of his rear.
“Sweet Slytherin’s snakes,” he cried out in horror and shock for he had just read the following:
The engagement is announced between Severus Snape of Spinner’s End and Demetia Boltsfree.
To say that Severus was reeling under the shock would be an understatement.
“Dementia who?” was the question playing in his mind when suddenly a large owl swooped into his house, dropped a howler and swooped away.
Before he could react to this it burst open and the room resounded with the magically magnified shrieks of Bellatrix Lestrange:
“DEMENTIA WHO? SOMEONE FROM YOUR SHADY PHILANDERING PAST NO DOUBT, YOU SLIMY FLOBBERWORM. OOOH JUST YOU WAIT….”
The commotion brought Wormtail downstairs just as Snape received a second howler. Instead of opening it he threw it at a shocked Wormtail who tried to catch it but fumbled and the howler slipped inside his robes. The howler burst into flames somewhere near Wormtail’s belly but this time it was Narcissa’s voice which screamed expletives at Snape (mingled with Wormtail’s agonized yells as he ran around in circles crying for help).
The comic scene did something to lessen Snape’s growing dread. With a lazy flick of the wand he doused the Wormtail conflagration with water and sat down to think. Was this some prank? But who would dare?
His thoughts were interrupted by yet another owl. But this time it did not carry a howler.
It carried a box of assorted goodies from Honeydukes with a note of congratulations from Dumbledore. “This is getting out of hand” thought Snape angrily.
Just then he heard two ‘pop’ sounds and sprang to his feet. Bella and Narcissa were standing next to each other, eyes flashing dangerously, lips stretched in an insane smile…
“Now let me explain…” started Snape.
“CRUCIO!” screeched the sisters terrible.
Just in time Snape managed to grab the gaping Wormtail and used him as an effective shield. A second later there was another pop sound. The Dark Lord himself had arrived.
“Now, now girls,” said he with ill concealed amusement. “Don’t vent your spleen over my little joke…heheh”
“Your little joke? Your- LITTLE- joke?” Snape gasped in outrage but quickly added a hasty “…my lord”
Had the Dark Lord still possessed eyebrows he would have no doubt raised them in reaction to Snape’s lack of respect. However, the frigidity of his voice was enough to bring Snape back to his senses:
“I wanted to amuse myself Severus, and I did. Do you object to Lord Voldemort’s little whims? No? Good…Wormtail looks rather shaken...Severus punished you for laughing didn’t he, Wormtail?”
“Yes, yes my master. He treats me most cruelly. Most unjustly. I was punished for enjoying your joke, which was very funny if I might add…”
“Thank you Wormtail,” spoke the Dark Lord silkily.
Thrilled at this Wormtail shot Snape a nasty smile and spoke again in an excited squeak.
“But master, who is Dementia? Is she…heehee…someone you know?…heehee,” he ended with a knowing wink.
“Dreadfully amusing, Wormtail…Crucio…”

DancingMaenid August 15th, 2005 8:52 am

MoonysAngel, I loved the birthday party! That was great!

And Inkwolf, the basketball game was wonderful!

And I loved your POV as well, Subtle.

And good job to everyone else.

Right now, I give you:

Valentine's Day

While fifteen-year-old Harry Potter was on the other side of Hogsmeade, having a disastrous date with Cho Chung, Severus Snape skulked inside the Three Broomsticks, clutching a small, badly wrapped package....

It took Severus a few minutes to work up the nerve to go up to the bar and sit down near the spot where Madam Rosmerta stood, washing some mugs. When he finally did so, he stared at her for a few moments with his best imitation of a smile until she finally looked at him.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said, holding out the package, "I made this for you."

"Oh, how sweet!" She took the package and unwrapped it to find a small bottle of pink liquid.

"It's perfume," Severus explained, "I had some left over potions ingredients, and I had a little spare time, so I thought...you know."

"It's lovely! How sweet of you!" She kissed him on the cheek, and he blushed. "Here, have a firewhiskey--on the house."

So far, things were going very well. After having a considerable amount of the firewhiskey in him, he almost worked up the nerve to ask her out when a small, obnoxiously hyper owl flew inside and circled around their heads. He knew that owl. It was Weasley's owl. It finally landed on the bar, and Rosmerta collected the attacted card. It was a small piece of paper with "Happy Valentine's Day" scrawled on it in Weasley's pathetic handwriting. Attached to the note was what appeared to be a small weed.

"Oh, how adorable!" Rosmerta said, "I just love working near Hogwarts; the children are so precious sometimes! And he sent me a flower, too. So cute!"

Severus couldn't supress a scowl. He'd had quite enough of Weasley's little crush. He didn't know how many times he'd lurked in the corner of the Three Broomsticks, looking for a chance to speak to Rosmerta, only to have Weasley spend the entire afternoon repeating bad jokes to her that he'd heard from his brothers. He'd thought that for once, with Gryffindor using the afternoon to practice Quidditch (he suspected that the Slytherin team resented him a bit for not insisting that they get to use the field instead, but he didn't care; this was his love life on the line!

Eh, Severus thought, what am I thinking? It's not like Weasley is a rival, or anything. He's fifteen! She just referred to him as a child! His card was 'adorable', for goodness sakes! I made her a very complicated and good-smelling perfume.

Nevertheless, his confidence was thoroughly shaken. Just then, the door opened and a blonde-haired witch came in. She looked very familiar. Then he remembered; he'd seen her in Hogwarts the previous year. She was that reporter, Rita Skeeter. He'd attempted to talk to her back then, but she became very uninterested when he refused to discuss Harry Potter. Her hair wasn't as nicely styled now, and it appeared that she'd stopped investing in makeup as she once had, but she was still a bit attractive. And she was all alone.

Severus stood up and walked over to the table where she sat.

"Hello," he said, "you're Rita Skeeter, right?"

She looked up at him unsmiling. "Yes. Do I know you?"

"I'm Severus Snape. We met last year, remember?"

"Oh, yes."

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

She sighed. "Well, I am expecting someone. But I suppose you can for a few minutes."

He frowned despite himself. "Oh, you have a date?"

"Hah! I wish. A rather annoying girl asked me to meet her here. She said it was important, but I have my doubts."

Severus nodded gravely. "I believe I can relate. I've dealt with many annoying children in my day. There's one particular girl in my potions class who seems to believe that just because she's intelligent, she's an expert on everything."

"Ah! That's how this girl is! She seems to think she knows about proper journalism, and she's only fifteen!"

"You know, I bet we have a lot in common. After you fulfill your duty here, how about we get together?"

"Hmmm...I don't know. Maybe a little later--oh, darn, here she is. And it looks like she brought a friend with her."

Severus turned to look, and to his horror, saw Hermione Granger walking towards the table, with Luna Lovegood in tow. He stood up hurriedly, and gave them what he hoped was an intimidating glare.

"Oh, hello Professor Snape." Luna said, "I'm glad you decided to get out of Hogwarts today. I was going to stay in this afternoon, but the entire place is infested with Invisible Biting Glitterbugs. I tried to warn Filch, but he didn't believe me. They're nasty things; they bite you and cover you in glitter. The glitter would show up really well on your black robes, Professor."

"Never mind the Glitterbugs," Rita said, "Where's Harry Potter? I thought you said he'd be here!"

"He'll be by in a little bit, don't worry." Hermione said.

"Yeah, he's on a date with Cho Chung," Luna said, "She's in Ravenclaw, with me, and she's been talking about the date for weeks. And she usually ends up crying. We don't know why."

Severus couldn't believe it. Not only did Potter have a date for Valentine's Day, but he'd obviously arranged for his friends to make sure that Severus wouldn't be able to get one. Grumbling, Severus left the Three Broomsticks and walked back to Hogwarts, thinking on the way there of all the single women he knew, and who would be likely to respond positively to being asked out by him. Bellatrix had just broken out of Azkaban; she'd probably be pretty desperate for a night on the town. But then, Bellatrix also was very skilled at the Cruciatus curse. And she had a husband. A husband who was also good at the Cruciatus....No, it would be best to steer clear of Death Eater women. Maybe a woman in the Order....

Ah! Of course! Nymphadora! Why didn't I think of it before? I can ask her. It's a bit late notice, yes, but she's a busy woman; she might still be free. The worse she can do is say no. Or laugh at me. Or hex me. Or all three of those things, like that girl I asked out back in my fifth year. That girl went out with James Potter soon after that, didn't she? Well, at least I heard she was an exceptionally bad kisser. Anyway, I doubt Nymphadora can hex me if I keep the conversation long-distance.

Immediately after sending the message to Tonks, he regretted it. He was half-way through making up an excuse to tell her when she replied about Dumbledore asking him to contact the Order members as part of a drill when she replied.

"Is something wrong?" She said peering at him from the fire in his office.

"No. Why?" He asked, slightly put off.

"Oh, okay. It's just...you've never contacted me directly before...."

"Yes, well, there's something I um...wanted to ask you. You see, I was thinking, and really, I don't suppose you have much time to...socialize. Being an auror, and in the Order and all. And, well, it wouldn't do for you to become stressed out because you didn't have a date for Valentine's Day, if that's the case. So I thought I'd ask you if you wanted to accompany me out to dinner tonight. If you don't have plans already, that is."

She blinked at him, and then said, "Oh, um, wow, that's really, really nice of you! But, um, I'm really busy. You know, Valentine's Day is the day with the most cases of illegal use of love potions, and well, they've been giving the aurors stupid cases like that lately, so I have to stay on hand, just in case. Besides, I won't really be alone, or anything. I um, promised Remus I'd cook dinner for him. You can come too. If you want."

Great, Lupin. He considered for a moment accepting the offer, but then he had a vision of himself sitting across the table, watching Tonks make sappy faces at Lupin, and promptly declined.

After ending the conversation, he sat down and sighed. Well, there was one woman he'd certainly be able to get a date with. She'd been hinting for weeks that she wanted him to ask her out. It would be somewhat undignified for him to give in, but she wasn't exactly unattractive, and maybe she'd be interesting if he could start a normal conversation with her. Decided, he made the long walk from the dungeons to the Divination Tower, and knocked on the door. Trelawney answer immediately, wearing flowing red robes.

"Ah! Severus!" She said, "I forsaw that you would come! I even dressed for it."

"How lovely," he said, fighting the urge to sneer at her outfit, "I was wondering if you wanted to--"

He was going to say, 'accompany me to dinner tonight?' but she interruped with, "Go dancing? I'd love to! There's a nice little club in Diagon Alley that's having a special, Valentine's Day tango lesson for couples! I've already signed up for me and a date. What are you waiting for! We must set out at once, for I foresee some difficulty with Peeves at the front door!"

And before he could protest, Trewalney grabbed his arm and pulled him down the stairs, outside and towards the gates.

The End

Tane August 15th, 2005 10:11 am

I love all these stories they are so funny and so good, I went for drama.

This is my first attempt at writing something from Snape's point of view so it might not be that great.

The Argument Hagrid Overheard.

'Snape if it comes down to it, your going to have to kill me,' Dumbledore.

'No, I made the vow, it was my fault and I was the one who put your life in danger so I should be the one that dies.'

'Severus your too important to me as a spy, I'm not worth saving,' Dumbledore said with a smile over his half moon glasses.

'Don't think your half moon glass smile is going to convince me to kill you, I am not Potter and I am not relenting. You saved me at that trial, I owe you a debt and one I will repay if it means me saving your life.' said Snape in a tone even higher now.

'Severus I have been very calm up to now but I must insist that you will do as I say, you did promise.' Dumbledore looked at Snape, the smile all gone from his face, replaced with a look of rage.

'I don't care about the stupid promise, you’re asking too much of me. I owe you almost a life debt Albus and that is more greater than any promise. What are you going to do force me, put me under the imperious curse and make me kill you,' screamed Snape.

'Don't tempted me Severus,' Shouted Dumbledore.

'I'd like to see you try Albus.' A sudden whip was heard in the air as both drew there wands faster than bullet released from a gun and both began to circle each other, eyes connected.

'Maybe I just don't want to do this anymore, why don't you take my place, then you would be at Voldemort's side and see what it is like to be his right hand man, how hard it is to cope with the scenes of filth I see every day. You would be near Potter at the end when he faces Voldemort. All noble Albus, would you deny a man to redeem himself for past wrongs, would you choose what is easy and go out dieing rather than fighting. I think it is time for you to decide between what is right and what is easy Albus, killing me would be difficult I know but it would be the right thing to do. I am dead either way due to the vow because I can not do what you ask me. I can not cast the Avada Kedavra curse at you; I will fail the vow and die so I may as well take your place.’ Snape stood there with head slightly angled, his wand pointing at Albus breathing heavily with a face of determination.

‘You strike a hard bargain Severus.’ Albus relented and lowered his wand reluctantly.

‘Hard yes but you know it is the right thing to do, let me repay my debt.’


I left it hanging with out a conclusion to the argument for all sides concerned.

Ducken August 16th, 2005 3:44 am

Doom and gloom is underrated :) And I enjoy your POVs, subtle, so you better keep writing!

I think I'm caught up on the reading, but I'll post comments later. This one is long enough as it is....
***************

Severus Snape cursed his misfortune as he stood in line at one of the numerous Starbucks that lined the Seattle street. Beside him, Lucius Malfoy tapped his foot in time to the music that wafted through the coffee place and kept his eyes trained on the Starbucks that was located across the road.

“Four,” he said abruptly, his foot still keeping time with the drumbeat.

Snape frowned and turned to face his companion. “Four what?” he snapped, as the line in front of them slowly inched forward.

“Four people that have already left the Starbucks across the street,” Lucius said, and he wrenched his eyes from the window and focused an accusatory stare on Snape. “I told you we should have gone to that one,” he continued in a sulky tone. “It’s just like Wal-Mart, you always pick the slowest line.”

“It’s hardly my fault that the people in front of us are taking so long,” Snape said coldly. “Neither is it my fault that they’ve got so many things to choose from. Why don’t they just serve coffee here? I thought that’s what this place was known for.”

“I don’t understand why we’re here in the first place,” Lucius grumbled. “Why couldn’t you have just made the Dark Lord some Pepper-Up Potion?”

“The Dark Lord insisted on Muggle-brewed coffee.” Snape sighed and moved forward another inch. “It’s a newly acquired weakness, I think.”

“He hasn’t been himself,” Lucius said, frowning at the floor.

“It’s those meddling Muggles,” Snape said, and as the line shifted once more, he allowed his thoughts to wander. If only the Dark Lord had never become obsessed with publicity…

It had all started about a month ago, when some Muggle woman called Oprah had requested that the Dark Lord make an appearance on her show to discuss his new bestseller, I was Simply Misunderstood: The Early Years of a Young Genius. Something about the room full of adoring women who laughed at every joke he graciously made and who ooohed and aaahed and oh my!-ed in all of the right places had muddled the Dark Lord’s brain, and he had since been traveling around the states, going from Muggle show to Muggle show. After his huge success on Oprah, he had gone on to the Daily Show and, according to the ratings, appealed to so many 18-34 year-olds that the Democratic Party had immediately contacted him about running as their 2008 presidential candidate. After little persuasion, the Dark Lord had agreed, and had added a nation-wide tour to a schedule that already included appearances on Good Morning, America, Regis and Kelly, and Dr. Phil (to discuss trust issues with regards to romantic relationships), as well as the writing of a sequel.

Snape’s head began to hurt as he remembered all of the cross-country trips he’d had to endure. The Dark Lord had dragged the Death Eaters around the entire time, sending them on silly errands (here in Seattle, Bellatrix had many times been sent to the dry-cleaners where, it was rumored among the Death Eaters, she was having an affair with an employee, and Wormtail had been to the grocery store so often that they were now giving him discounts and free pastries) and hexing them every time he felt a bout of stage fright coming on.

And now Snape and Lucius had been entrusted with the mission of tracking down a cup of strong coffee, since the Dark Lord had partyed too hardy at a Muggle pub the night before and now lay suffering in his hotel room from a massive hangover. Snape couldn’t imagine a worse way to start off his morning. Standing in a long line of Muggles just to get a stupid cup of coffee so the Dark Lord would be sober enough to appear on a radio talk show later in the day. It was an absolute nightmare.

Snape was so absorbed in his thoughts that it took several taps from the Muggle standing behind him to shake him from his reverie. He slouched forward a few more inches, dragging Lucius with him.

“I could have removed every Dark object from my house in the time it’s taken to get this far,” Lucius complained, craning his neck to see what was happening further along. He then groaned and said, “It’s a massive group of old Muggles who can’t make up their minds. Can’t we try a different place?”

“With our luck, the same thing will happen,” Snape said, fingering the wand he had hidden in the folds of his Muggle overcoat. “Maybe we could just hurry things along…”

But before he’d quite decided which curse he could get away with using, the group of elderly Muggles finally moved to wait in front of the espresso bar, and the front counter came into view.

“Just two back now,” Lucius said, and his frown lessened slightly.

Snape shifted impatiently from foot to foot as he listened to a man in a Hawaiian shirt place his order.

“I’ll have a hazelnut latte with two percent milk, and make the shots decaf,” said the man, after glancing at the huge list of drinks behind the counter. “Oh, and I’d like it iced with two extra shots,” he added, and the Muggle girl behind the register rapidly punched buttons.

“And what size would you like, sir?” she asked, smiling at him.

Honestly, Snape thought to himself. I’ve no idea how people work customer service jobs. The customers are such idiots.

The man selected a size, and the girl finished punching in the order, and then called, “Iced grande decaf quad shot hazelnut two percent latte,” to another girl, who immediately snapped into action.

“Only one more,” Lucius said, bouncing on his feet.

“I can count, thank you,” Snape said icily, and Lucius turned red and immediately ceased his movements.

“Hmm…” said the young woman who stood in front of Snape and Lucius. “I think I’ll have a small mint mocha chip frappe with two shots, and could you make it mocha affagotto style?”

“Of course,” said the register girl, expertly punching the buttons. Then she called over her shoulder, “Tall mint mocha chip frappuccino blended coffee mocha affagotto style.”

Snape and Lucius eyed one another.

“What is that?” Lucius asked quietly as the woman paid.

“More importantly, why would anyone drink that, and at this time of the morning?” Snape muttered.

They didn’t have any more time to wonder at the order, however, for they had finally reached the front of the line.

“Good morning,” said the register girl, giving another smile. “Tammy will be with you right away,” and before either Snape or Lucius could speak, the girl had moved aside, to be replaced with a timid-looking girl wearing a nervous smile and a badge that read, “Tammy, Trainee.”

Snape barely managed to refrain from smashing his head against the counter. Beside him, he saw Lucius roll his eyes.

“We just want a large cup of your strongest coffee,” Snape said, and watched in disgust as the girl looked back at him blankly.

“Would you like a venti?” she asked, her hands hovering uncertainly over the register buttons.

“No,” Snape said, working hard to keep his voice calm. “I want a coffee. You know, that black drink so many people are addicted to.”

“Yes, but would you like it to be a grande or a venti?” asked the girl.

“Look, I just want a simple, large cup of black coffee,” Snape said, his lip curling. She makes even Longbottom look somewhat intelligent, he thought, as he watched the girl hit a few buttons.

“Is that everything?” she asked, and when Snape nodded curtly, she hit another button, and then let out a squeal. “That can’t be right,” she said, her voice slightly desperate. She looked at Snape and gave a shaky laugh. “It says your total is $35.14, but there’s just no way…”

By the time the girl had gotten help, sorted out the problem, given Snape the wrong change, and then corrected herself, the line had grown to enormous proportions, and those at the back were muttering under their breath and heading toward the Starbucks across the street.

“Never again,” Snape spat, as he and Lucius hurried out of the coffee place. “I don’t care if he’s smashed and due to appear on Fox and Friends. He can get his own [email protected] coffee!”

He stalked down the sidewalk, Lucius rushing to keep up, and he was so irritated that he failed to notice the Muggle stepping out of the Starbucks on the corner. The two collided, and Snape lost his grip on his coffee cup. It flew through the air and landed with a splat on the sidewalk, spewing its contents all over the ground.

Snape caught himself before he too fell, and surveyed the Muggle, his face white with fury. Without thinking, he reached for his wand. It was going to be a long day.

Pilum August 16th, 2005 4:01 pm

Much as I've been enjoying the Pratchett's Death-style posts, I'll try something a bit different (mainly as all the scenes I could have done have already gone, boo, hiss, etc.). I'll try to keep it ambiguous, just in case... :) :

"Severus.... please...."
For all the gentle put-downs.
For every point you ever gifted Gryffindor.
For every time you praised Potter.
For every knowing twinkle in your eyes.
For every reproof.
For never stepping in when Potter's father and his gang made my life hell.
For allowing Black a second chance.
For keeping me as your 'pet Traitor' these past 16 years.
For risking my cover with your 'compassion'.
For never trusting me with what I wished to do.
For never - really - trusting me...
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"


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