Fanfiction: Once Upon a Freakin' Time
WARNING: If you're looking to avoid any and all speculation as to what happens in the upcoming Harry Potter book, read no further. There are no spoilers, as I myself know next to nothing about the book.
Severus Snape Is Fashionable
A long shadow had fallen.
Grey clouds hung heavy over a dark robed man winding his way down the road toward a charming split-level colonial. The man watched the ground sweep by beneath him, unwilling to look around at a world that seemed that much emptier of light and hope. Silence reigned over all living creatures, from the man to the sparrows on the fence posts, to the dogs cowering in their kennels. It seemed to be the lull before the end of the world.
For Albus Dumbledore was dead.
It had been sudden. It had been accidental. Of course it had. There was no other way that a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore could fall to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
The raid had happened at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place not in the dead of night, but at seven in the evening. The members of the Order of Phoenix had been enjoying light after-dinner conversation when the Death Eaters came. Bellatrix Lestrange had finally put two and two together, and had figured out the only place from which Kreacher could have run to Narcissa Malfoy. And being family, she had already known the whereabouts of Black family residence. It took little effort on Voldemort’s part to break a few of the spells surrounding the house.
Voldemort had gone personally to oversee the operation, as the last time he had sent the Death Eaters out on their own, they had ended up in Azkaban. He had not been expecting the pleasant surprise of Dumbledore at the Order’s headquarters.
The man in the dark robes knocked on the door of the charming split-level colonial. A hidden panel opened; the man on the other side waited for the password.
“If Darkness is blah, blah, blah…open the door, Lucius,” said Snape, anxious to go inside and get this over with.
Lucius, who was used to Snape’s habit of never finishing the password, opened the door. “How was the funeral?”
“Dreary. How do you expect funerals to be?” Snape snapped.
“The Dark Lord is waiting for you. Do you have information on where Potter is being kept now?”
“Yes, but it makes no difference. They’ll all die before letting us get our hands on him.”
“Well then, that might take some time. Lemon poppy seed muffin? Made them myself.”
“No. I need to change.”
Lucius put down a plate of delicious lemon poppy seed muffins and cocked his head at Snape. “You’re already wearing black. In fact, that’s all you ever wear.”
Snape shot Lucius a scathing look. “This is my good robe, Lucius. Not my ‘grovel on the ground before the Dark Lord and probably rip the hem’ robe.”
“It looks the same.”
“The collar is slightly higher on this one.”
“Ah,” said Lucius, understanding dawning upon him. “I see. Very vogue.”
Snape went to the hall closet, and pulled out a black robe. “Good thing I keep this here. I’ll just go change in the bathroom.”
In the quiet moment or two that passed, Lucius carefully rearranged the muffins on the plate. After the meeting, the other Death Eaters would certainly be hungry. The peace was broken a moment later-
“Lucius!” came Snape’s voice from behind the door.
“What is it?” Lucius asked.
“My robe is stuck, and I can’t see. Come in here and give me a hand.”
“No way!” cried Lucius. “You’re changing in there.”
“Lucius, I’m wearing trousers and a shirt. I just need you to pull this snag! Don’t be a wuss about it.”
Lucius gathered his courage and opened the bathroom door. As advertised, Snape was standing by the sink, tangled in his robes. One arm stuck out of the top, snagged on something at his wrist. Snape’s head appeared to have gotten jammed in the other sleeve where he couldn’t see, and the length of the robe made it difficult for the man to reach up to where his other arm was caught. “Well,” said Snape. “Don’t just stand there.”
Lucius examined the snag. “Snape, are you wearing a bracelet? Because that is a hideous shade of yellow right there.”
“Yes, it’s a bracelet. I got it at the funeral. Hagrid was handing them out.”
“Do people usually get jewelry at funerals these days?”
“No, Lucius. It’s because it was Dumbledore. Would you just fix my robe, please?”
“Hey, it’s got writing on it. ‘WWDD.’ What does that stand for?”
“Never you mind. Just…”
“Well, stop struggling for a moment!”
“You’re pulling down too hard, Lucius.”
“It’s thoroughly caught. Maybe if I took it off.”
“NO! You’ll--”
RIIIIIIIIIIP!
Pulling up ripped the seams at the shoulder where Snape’s head was caught. “All right,” said Snape, pulling off the remains of the robe. “I’ll just wear what I came in.”
* * * *
“There is little to stand in our way now,” said Voldemort triumphantly to his Death Eaters. “With Dumbledore gone, there is no one left to protect the boy. Severus, you said you have information to share?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Snape replied. He pulled a rolled sheet of parchment from his inner-robe pocket, and spread it out on the table before Voldemort. “As you can see--”
He was interrupted sharply by Voldemort. “Severus, what on earth are you wearing? Is that a bright yellow…bracelet?”
Snape cursed silently to himself. He really did not want explain this right now. “It’s the latest fashion,” Snape improvised. “Everyone’s wearing them.” Which was technically true.
“You know,” said Voldemort, “I would have never taken you for a fashion plate, Severus. But I have to say, I do like that high collar on your robe.”
(Author’s Note: Thanks to the Marty and her mother, who first made the joke about the bracelet.)
Severus Snape Is Fashionable
A long shadow had fallen.
Grey clouds hung heavy over a dark robed man winding his way down the road toward a charming split-level colonial. The man watched the ground sweep by beneath him, unwilling to look around at a world that seemed that much emptier of light and hope. Silence reigned over all living creatures, from the man to the sparrows on the fence posts, to the dogs cowering in their kennels. It seemed to be the lull before the end of the world.
For Albus Dumbledore was dead.
It had been sudden. It had been accidental. Of course it had. There was no other way that a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore could fall to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
The raid had happened at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place not in the dead of night, but at seven in the evening. The members of the Order of Phoenix had been enjoying light after-dinner conversation when the Death Eaters came. Bellatrix Lestrange had finally put two and two together, and had figured out the only place from which Kreacher could have run to Narcissa Malfoy. And being family, she had already known the whereabouts of Black family residence. It took little effort on Voldemort’s part to break a few of the spells surrounding the house.
Voldemort had gone personally to oversee the operation, as the last time he had sent the Death Eaters out on their own, they had ended up in Azkaban. He had not been expecting the pleasant surprise of Dumbledore at the Order’s headquarters.
The man in the dark robes knocked on the door of the charming split-level colonial. A hidden panel opened; the man on the other side waited for the password.
“If Darkness is blah, blah, blah…open the door, Lucius,” said Snape, anxious to go inside and get this over with.
Lucius, who was used to Snape’s habit of never finishing the password, opened the door. “How was the funeral?”
“Dreary. How do you expect funerals to be?” Snape snapped.
“The Dark Lord is waiting for you. Do you have information on where Potter is being kept now?”
“Yes, but it makes no difference. They’ll all die before letting us get our hands on him.”
“Well then, that might take some time. Lemon poppy seed muffin? Made them myself.”
“No. I need to change.”
Lucius put down a plate of delicious lemon poppy seed muffins and cocked his head at Snape. “You’re already wearing black. In fact, that’s all you ever wear.”
Snape shot Lucius a scathing look. “This is my good robe, Lucius. Not my ‘grovel on the ground before the Dark Lord and probably rip the hem’ robe.”
“It looks the same.”
“The collar is slightly higher on this one.”
“Ah,” said Lucius, understanding dawning upon him. “I see. Very vogue.”
Snape went to the hall closet, and pulled out a black robe. “Good thing I keep this here. I’ll just go change in the bathroom.”
In the quiet moment or two that passed, Lucius carefully rearranged the muffins on the plate. After the meeting, the other Death Eaters would certainly be hungry. The peace was broken a moment later-
“Lucius!” came Snape’s voice from behind the door.
“What is it?” Lucius asked.
“My robe is stuck, and I can’t see. Come in here and give me a hand.”
“No way!” cried Lucius. “You’re changing in there.”
“Lucius, I’m wearing trousers and a shirt. I just need you to pull this snag! Don’t be a wuss about it.”
Lucius gathered his courage and opened the bathroom door. As advertised, Snape was standing by the sink, tangled in his robes. One arm stuck out of the top, snagged on something at his wrist. Snape’s head appeared to have gotten jammed in the other sleeve where he couldn’t see, and the length of the robe made it difficult for the man to reach up to where his other arm was caught. “Well,” said Snape. “Don’t just stand there.”
Lucius examined the snag. “Snape, are you wearing a bracelet? Because that is a hideous shade of yellow right there.”
“Yes, it’s a bracelet. I got it at the funeral. Hagrid was handing them out.”
“Do people usually get jewelry at funerals these days?”
“No, Lucius. It’s because it was Dumbledore. Would you just fix my robe, please?”
“Hey, it’s got writing on it. ‘WWDD.’ What does that stand for?”
“Never you mind. Just…”
“Well, stop struggling for a moment!”
“You’re pulling down too hard, Lucius.”
“It’s thoroughly caught. Maybe if I took it off.”
“NO! You’ll--”
RIIIIIIIIIIP!
Pulling up ripped the seams at the shoulder where Snape’s head was caught. “All right,” said Snape, pulling off the remains of the robe. “I’ll just wear what I came in.”
* * * *
“There is little to stand in our way now,” said Voldemort triumphantly to his Death Eaters. “With Dumbledore gone, there is no one left to protect the boy. Severus, you said you have information to share?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Snape replied. He pulled a rolled sheet of parchment from his inner-robe pocket, and spread it out on the table before Voldemort. “As you can see--”
He was interrupted sharply by Voldemort. “Severus, what on earth are you wearing? Is that a bright yellow…bracelet?”
Snape cursed silently to himself. He really did not want explain this right now. “It’s the latest fashion,” Snape improvised. “Everyone’s wearing them.” Which was technically true.
“You know,” said Voldemort, “I would have never taken you for a fashion plate, Severus. But I have to say, I do like that high collar on your robe.”
(Author’s Note: Thanks to the Marty and her mother, who first made the joke about the bracelet.)