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Old November 1st, 2006, 9:35 am
House_Elf_21  Undisclosed.gif House_Elf_21 is offline
First Year
Join Date: 31st May 2006
Location: Online
Posts: 61
Re: The Unintentional Matchmaker

Snape marched into his quarters, and was about to slam the doors when... "Charon," he snapped, spying his eagle owl perched on his dresser; "do you have no better place to haunt?"

Charon hooted a few insults and zoomed out the door, but not before making certain to fly over Snape and poop on his head. Snape gritted his teeth and scourgified his hair then summoned the doors shut with a flick of his wand.

"I have obviously miscalculated," he mused, pouring himself a glass of elf-made wine. He sat in front of the empty fire grate and stared sulkily at the ashes, sipping his wine. He naturally had never intended for the potion to work as it had. So much for random acts of kindness. In fact, darn those random acts of kindness.

That morning had been the first time he had heard about the "happy couple". Snape shuddered and lit a fire, though his chill had nothing to do with being cold--well, physically, that is. He would stop giving Pax the potion, but he knew too well that the effects would linger. He had to figure out what he did wrong and then find an antidote.

"I can't have miscalculated!" Snape roared, four glasses later. "I am the Potions Master! Potion-brewing is a very precise art! *hic* I know what I'm doing!" He threw his empty glass into the fire grate and began sucking down the rest of the wine out of the bottle.

Five minutes later, a heavily-intoxicated Snape stumbled towards his store cupboard, which he began fumbling through. "Eye of newt, toe of frog, wool of bat, tongue of dog..." he read off, tossing the jars aside. "It's *hic* got to be around here somewhere--ah, yes." Snape sneered as he eyed the phial in his hands. He tucked it in his robe pocket and stumbled out into his classroom, which was beginning to fill with the seventh-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.

"Settle *hic* down," he drawled, trying his best to keep his balance.

"Are you all right, Professor?" a Ravenclaw asked, eyeing the Potions Master askance.

"That is none of your *hic* business. Turn to page five hundred and fifty-three."

"Recognising and treating those who have been given a Love potion?" read a Gryffindor.

Before Snape could come up with an excuse, the door burst open and in walked Tristan and Pax, arm-in-arm, simpering at each other. Snape groaned.

"You're late," he snapped, leaning on his desk to steady himself. The world was very blurry and the ground wasn't entirely stable; he'd have to look into that.

"Sorry, Professor," Pax giggled, wiping a spot of lipstick off the corner of Tristan's mouth. "We lost track of time."

Snape raised an eyebrow. After a moment he hiccuped, took ten points from Slytherin (no one bothered to correct him) and told them both to sit down. "Today," he said heavily, clutching to the phial in his pocket, "we will be talking about love potions, how to recognize the symptoms of someone who has been given one, and how to treat those daft enough to take one?" He swayed vicariously as he drew out the phial and showed it to the class. "Can any of you dunderheads tell me how to determine if someone's been given a Love potion? Anyone? Yes, Miss Gilbert."

"You look at their symptoms first," she said, shooting Snape a dirty look that he didn't know he entirely deserved. "You ask them normal questions, like 'what is your name', etc., then--then you ask them if they've taken anything lately from a certain bat of a potions master!"

Snape's beady, yet blurry, eyes glared into hers. So, miss smarty-pants was on to him. He could deal with that.

"Those are all interesting 'theories'. But I believe in a quicker approach. Do you know what this is, Miss Gilbert?" he demanded, shoving the phial in her face.

"Your shampoo?"

The class howled, and Snape's lips curled up in a sadistic smile.

"Keep giving me cheek, Miss Gilbert, and the whole class will learn something...interesting about you for today's lesson, if you get my meaning."

Sarah opened her mouth to retort, but apparently thought the better of it and bit her tongue.

"You may begin reading. Miss Ophelia, you and I need to discuss your stay in the hospital. Stay in your seat, Bott; I won't keep your precious girlfriend long." He stormed into through the doors and a bewildered Pax followed in his wake.

Pax shut the door behind her and turned to face the Potions Master. "What--"

But before she could utter another word, Snape began pouring the serum down her throat, sloshing it all over her robes with his unsteady hand. "I haven't *hic* so much as mis-stirred a potion from the moment I bought my first cauldron. Tell me, is your name Pax Ophelia?"

"I--yes," said the girl, her face suddenly vaccant.

Snape sneered. "And have you been taking my potion regularly?"


Snape clapped his hands together, causing him to stumble a little. "All right, now for the real question. Are you in love with Tristan Bott?"


"Answer the question, you s-silly girl!" he spat.


"Ha!" Snape roared. He knew it! He wasn't a failure after all! This was too good to be true. How to celebrate? Another bottle of wine? Maybe some firewhiskey? Oh, the possibilities! "Back to class, Miss--*hic*." Wait. If she was telling the truth then--she--and he--were--not in love! "NO!!!!"

Sorry, it's early and I'm giddy and all of this came pouring out and struck me as pretty darn funny. Hope you enjoyed!


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