As promised (I fulfilled a promise? Go me!), here is the fanfic version of
my recent encounter with a Snape. Yes, I turned the woman into a man, but all Snapes are Severus in the dark.
Severus Snape Attempts to Obtain Membership in a Prestigious Organization
At home once again on a Friday evening, Severus Snape consoled his wounded, dateless pride by Googling himself on the Internet. Unfortunately, he discovered that the majority of the hits containing his name were virulent, curse word-laden rants from former students who obviously had not paid the least bit of attention in his classes.
“Ratemyteacher.com,” muttered Snape. “I think I’ll skip that one.”
Disgusted with his unsatisfactory Google results, he decided to try phrases that described him, including “Half-Blood Prince,” “tall, dark, handsome purveyor of fine educational values,” and “Potions Master Extraordinaire.” Most of these did not bring up any results he could identify as himself, but the last of these search terms did bring up an organization for the very best in potions’ technology and production.
“Why am I not a member of this?” demanded Snape of his computer screen, while clicking through links. “Oh, I see. The Potions Masters’ Association of America. No wonder their website is appalling. I wonder if they have a related organization in the U.K.?”
They did not.
“Shame,” said Snape. “Well, if they are any kind of quality organization, they will be grateful to have me, regardless of where they are located.”
The association listed several contact options on its website, including crystal ball, email, and a fireplace address for the cutting edge of sticking-your-head-into-the-fire technology. Snape, who was no stranger to innovation, chose this option. Throwing down a handful of powder, he stuck his head into his fire, and was immediately faced with a stark cubicle occupied by a young woman.
“Thank you for contacting PMAA,” she said. “This is Evadne. How can I help you?”
She looked a bit harried, as if she didn’t appreciate his call. Snape bit back a smile of gleeful spite as he realized it must be close to quitting time where she was. My dear, he thought, you can go when I’m done, and not a moment sooner.
“Good evening,” he said, turning the screw, “I am interested in finding out more about your organization. However, before we begin, I feel I should tell you that I am in Britain.”
“That’s not a problem, sir,” said the young woman. “We welcome members from all over the globe. Are you a member of a potions firm, supplier or academic institution specializing in potions making?”
“Yes, I am the Potions Master at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
“Oh! Hogwarts?” Ms. Evadne said, suddenly smiling. “Were you referred by Horace Slughorn? He is one of our most active members overseas!”
“No, I was not,” said Snape curtly, secretly miffed that his former teacher had neglected to mention the existence of such an organization to him.
“Oh,” said the membership assistant, maintaining her smile. “Um, no matter. I would be happy to provide you with any information you need, sir. May I ask your name?”
“Severus Snape.”
“Severus Snape?” she repeated, her smile dropping like the proverbial penny. “The Severus Snape?”
Snape felt the needed ego boost that had precipitated the entire evening. “The one and only.”
Immediately, the woman stood and fled her cubicle as if a pack of werewolves pursued her. “I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder.
He could see nothing but the grey fabric walls of her cube, and wondered idly why she didn’t just put up a picture already. But, before he could pursue that avenue of interior decoration, he heard voices: “Miriam, I have Severus Snape on the line.” “The Severus Snape?” “The Severus Snape. What do I do?” Furious whispering followed, and then: “Miriam, I can’t talk to him!” “Calm down, Evadne. You’re an adult. It’s not like he can give you detention.”
And then she came back into view with a little stumble, suggesting she had been pushed. She smiled again, but her nervous hair twisting belied its sincerity. “Sir, I just spoke to my manager, and she and I have agreed that perhaps PMAA membership would not be in your interest at this time.”
“And why might that be?” Snape asked coldly.
“Well, sir, the truth is…” she swallowed and continued. “The truth is: you frighten the staff. And our members. And the Board of Directors. And our Executive Council. And…PLEASE DON’T YELL AT ME!” she cried, her composure broken.
“I see,” stated Snape. “I contacted your organization in the hopes of finding like-minded professionals with which to share advances in the potions field.” She cringed and squirmed where she stood. “But, once again, I find my hopes dashed by the incompetence of others. I find instead that my fellows are as weak and insecure as everyone else.” The young woman looked around for an escape, but there was none. “I offer my services to embellish your organization, and find myself unkindly rebuffed. I suspect your association shall go belly-up in the near future if you keep turning away talent like this. Rest assured, Miss Whateveryournameis, I shan’t waste my time with you again!”
Snape pulled his head from his fire, satisfied at having left the young woman nearly in tears. So what if they had rejected him? He had bolstered his self-worth regardless.