FIC update - You Can Ride My Broomstick Any Day, Harry
Whee! This is what is known as Anthony-is-still-around-I-am-happy-let-me-spam-you-with-fic!
A Snarry fic update, to begin with. :D
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
and now...
Chapter Four: The Staff Meeting From Hell, or Something Like It
Looks, Severus decided, could indeed kill, because the cheerful smile he was getting from Albus made him want to point his wand onto himself and scream "Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra already, damnit!"
Needless to say, it was a very disgruntled Severus Snape that left the Headmaster’s office an hour later, after he had finally exploded at the ever-twinkling Headmaster.
"You know, it occurs to me, Albus, that surely you, Albus, with your omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient self, must have some sort of clue as to who is behind this, and as such, we are simply wasting time recalling my memory of the events. Or perhaps you just take some sort of perverse pleasure in making me suffer this way," Severus had snarled, and glared furiously, while, much to his chagrin, Albus had twinkled yet some more.
"I’m right, aren’t I?" Severus said accusingly. "You know who is responsible, you mad, glitter-eyed sadist."
While the headmaster, who had calmly regarded the irate Potions Master, certainly never admitted to knowing, there had been that damned sodding twinkle again, and that had been as good as an admission for Severus, and he had snapped.
"Well then," he had hissed, "kindly explain, why you are having me do this. Why couldn’t you just have told me who it was, so that I could be off, right now, to hex the bleeding fool into oblivion, instead of sitting here drinking your irritatingly good coffee and getting blinded by the sparkle in your eyes?"
"Why, Severus," Albus had smiled. "I never knew you felt that way about me."
That was when Severus had walked out wordlessly from the room.
Why me?
Why is it always me? Why am I the one to get stuck with madmen and being nice and saying bad things to damn Gryffindor heroes? Is it penance for being a Death Eater, because I really have repented for that, and, and…
And then it had suddenly occurred to him.
He turned around abruptly and stalked back into the Headmaster’s office. "Potter!"
"What was that, my dear boy?" Albus smiled innocently from where he was still seated.
"It has to be Potter!" Severus growled. "He’s the only one who you protect to this degree!"
"Now, Severus," Albus chastised gently. "Lets not jump to conclusions."
"It’s him, isn’t it!" Severus was verging on hysterical. "That’s it. I’m going to kill him. Even you, Albus, cannot stop me. All your coffee and your twinkles and your sodding lemon drops cannot help him now!"
"Do not," Albus suddenly rumbled threateningly, "insult my lemon drops."
Severus barely processed the absurdity of the situation he was in, and instead asked hopefully, "If I don’t, does that mean I get to kill Potter?"
"No," Albus said, calm and gleaming-eyed again. "You may not kill Harry."
"Damn," muttered Severus, and turned around and left the office once more.
"Don’t forget about the staff get-together in the morning, Severus!" Albus called after him cheerfully.
Severus didn’t even bother to stop to cast a hex at the old man’s doors.
He wandered back down to his private rooms, mulling over the possibility that it was indeed Harry who was behind his misfortune, and contemplating ways to kill him either way and make it look like an accident. His mind, however, twisted from years of being a Death Eater, he was sure - what else could it have been? Certainly not any sexual desire - meant that the term "punishing Potter" was taking on more facets than he had meant it to, as was "torturing Harry for hours and locking him in the dungeons", "screwing him over" and "fucking him up".
And, he growled at himself, any whips and chains I use on the brat will be for pain, not pleasure or any sadomasochistic tendencies!
Upon taking note of the time then, he undressed for bed and sunk himself down into his soft mattress, his mind filled with thoughts and visions of annoyingly sparkly blue eyes and an overbearingly cheerful Headmaster, which he growled at. It all quickly turned into annoyingly lust-inducing green orbs and an unintentionally charming Boy-Who-Lived, which brought on a growl of an entirely different kind.
The Boy-Who-Fucking-Lived. Bah. Harry-Fucking-James-Fucking-Potter. Fucking Golden Boy. Fuck it all.
Fuck him.
Oh, how I’d like that very much.
Wait. That did not come out quite right.
I really ought to stop thinking about Potter and fucking in the same sentence.
Even if the idea has its merits.
No! No! There are no merits! And certainly none to do with those strong legs that are always wrapped around a broomstick - no!
Fortunately for Severus, it had been a long day, and he soon fell asleep without any further progression of thought.
Unfortunately for him, Harry had been his very last thought, and it was there that his mind chose to dwell for the night, leaving him with many, many, many dreams about his student - not all of them appropriate for him to have had, seeing as how they weren’t strictly confined to the Potter-causes-trouble-and-gets-detention variety. Rather, ‘detention’ had quickly turned into a very vocal Harry bent over his table, with him behind the younger man, holding onto his hips and pounding relentlessly and -
Severus woke up feeling distinctly unclean and in great need of a cold shower. Or two. Or three.
And a shot of Fire Whiskey. Or two. Or three.
What was it about Harry Potter, Severus Snape was beginning to wonder, that drove him to seeking out a stiff - ugh, bad choice of words - hard - not much better - potent - oh, sod it, it’ll do - alcoholic drink?
Besides the fact that he’s insufferable, impertinent, arrogant, disrespectful, incorrigible, annoying, irritating, infuriating, insolent, unbearable, irredeemable, aggravating, bothersome and exasperating, of course.
The fact that I still desire him anyway, perhaps.
Severus stared morosely across his room. Then, with a dragged-out sigh, came "Accio Fire Whiskey!"
I am a very useless Potions Master, Severus found himself thinking an hour later, if I cannot develop a proper cure for hangovers.
I am a very useless Head of Slytherin, he continued to himself silently, if I cannot devise a way to evade staff ‘get-togethers’.
I am also a very useless spy, he finally concluded, if I cannot even pretend that I am not in the least bit drunk.
"Huwhatzit?" Severus slurred loudly. "No, no, there are no Gryffies in my dungeon."
Beside him, Filius Flitwick appeared to be going into a fit as he attempted to stifle his laughter. "And what is so funny, Fil- Fli - Fili - Flilili, Filli, Filfli, oh, Fifi, you really need a new name."
Filius shot an annoyed look up at the Slytherin Head, but it was quickly replaced with a wide grin. "Only because it is so patently obviously that you are drunk off your arse, will I let it go that you just called me Fifi." A wicked smirk crossed the shorter man’s face. "Sevvie."
Severus may have been inebriated, but he was still fairly in control of his thoughts. Somewhat. His eyes narrowed at Filius, both as a reprimand and as a method of focusing the three men before him into one. "Do not," he declared, his accent crisper and more pronounced than before, although his words were dragged out, "call me Sevvie, or you will feel the pain of my very darkest art spells."
In his attempt to remain a haughty pureblood with massive evil at his disposal, while still greatly under the influence, Severus had begun to spit as he spoke the last few words.
Filius had blinked at him three times, then casually raised his hand to wipe off spittle from his forehead.
Severus had glared threateningly down his nose as snootily as he could, which could have been rather intimidating, perhaps, but was somewhat spoiled by his bobbing and swaying on his feet, indicated by a barely-concealed snicker on Filius’ part.
"Of course, of course, Severus." Filius humored him.
"Good, Fifi." Severus nodded sharply, and swiftly found himself the recipient of a surprisingly feral growl that made others in the vicinity shrink back a little, and much to Severus’ seemingly never-ending chagrin, him as well.
Oh great, even Fifi, who is hardly two feet tall, is scarier than I am. Severus thought petulantly.
He tried to issue a growl of his own, directed at Trelawney, who was a few feet away rambling on about cusps of Venus and how they would all be caught up in hot, torrid love affairs soon. She had simply turned to him with her bug-eyes and beamed at him.
No, no! That is just not right. He frowned then tried again. Growl. Nothing. He cleared his throat to try it once more. Grrrowl.
"Oh, Severus," Trelawney smiled again, before launching into a new diatribe about his love life.
"So, Severus, as I was saying, before your drunkenness got in the way," Filius squeaked loudly as he could in a thinly-veiled attempt to distract him from hexing Trelawney.
Trelawney, who had the gall - the gall - to then tell Severus he was simply "repressing all those good, happy, loving feelings inside", she could tell from "that warm, lovely hug" he’d given her - while under a bloody curse! - and how he needed to "just feel the love".
"Stand aside, Fifi." Severus growled.
Aha! There it is. I knew I had it in me, he thought triumphantly, pleased for a minute.
Then he remembered his vendetta against Trelawney, except that Filius had had the sense to forcibly drag her away in his moment of distraction, leaving him standing in the middle of the room rather awkwardly, catching the eyes of quite a few other members of staff.
Well, this day is looking up so far, Severus thought wryly. Now all I need is Minerva hovering over me and making her little insinuations and snarky comments. Oh, and perhaps a run in with Potter. Oh, that’ll really make my day.
"Severus! There you are!"
He turned to see Minerva McGonagall standing three feet behind him, a wide grin on her face, and promptly scowled.
I take it back! Severus thought desperately, even as he cast the darkest look he could muster at the woman. To her credit, she did not shrink away from the wrathful glare of the Potions Master, but instead simply chuckled. "Good day to you too, Severus."
"Minerva," he greeted politely and nodded stiffly, the scowl still planted on his face.
The Transfiguration teacher rolled her eyes. "Really, Severus. You must stop being so thrilled to see me, and control your gushing, its embarrassing me."
Severus allowed a smirk to pass over his features at her sarcasm. "I apologize, Minerva," he nodded. "But you’ll forgive me if I’m not full of sunshine and kittens today. I’m trying to maintain my reputation, you see."
"What reputation?" Minerva let out a derisive snort as she pointedly looked at the sullen and unusually pale man. "And sunshine and kittens, indeed. Have you even ever seen sunshine and kittens, Severus?"
Severus leveled a glower at her, which she rather aggravatingly seemed indifferent to. "I’ll have you know, Minerva, that I have indeed."
She seemed inclined make a scathing remark, when suddenly a wicked smile crossed her lips, sending a sudden thrill of horror straight to Severus’ stomach, and he mentally stabilized himself for whatever damning remark that he was sure she would make.
"Ah, yes, how could I have forgotten?" Minerva grinned. "You’ve been seen out on the grounds lately -"
"Is there something you wanted, Minerva?" Severus hastily tried to interrupt her when he realized where she was leading, to no avail.
"-fraternizing with the students, if I recall correctly," she continued cheerfully, as if he hadn’t said a single word. "Tell me, Severus, was it fun? I’ll admit its been a long while since I’ve done anything of the sort, since my own schoolgirl days I believe. However I might be quite inclined to relive them, you’ve rather inspired me."
"I think, Minerva, that you should leave your schoolgirl days back where they belong," Severus said archly. "Back in the Middle Ages, if I were to hazard a guess."
She remained unfazed and smiled sweetly. "Tsk, tsk, Severus, spitefulness does not become you."
"Nor does conversation become you," Severus retorted wryly. "But I’m out of luck, it seems."
She gave him that saccharin grin again, and Severus was left wondering why, of all the rotten luck in the world, he had been saddled with colleagues who were so damn happy.
It’s a bloody conspiracy.
And knowing my luck, he sighed darkly, I’m cursed with them for all of damning eternity.
Several disheartening and overly cheerful conversations with his colleagues later, Severus slunk down to the dungeons, damning the awful waste of time - and brain cells, he thought snidely - that were Saturday morning staff meetings. Oh, wait a minute, that’s right, I can’t call them that anymore, Albus thinks it decreases morale, they are ‘get-togethers’ to foster teamwork and cooperation and friendship and all that vitriol.
He barricaded his Floo access the second he got into his rooms, and threw up his wards, before settling down to grade papers. He made it through eighteen very unfortunate second years’ essays on his disgruntlement alone, and only decided to stop when he noticed he was about to tell a Hufflepuff that his essay was "something worthy of the drivel created by Harry Potter" - damned child would probably take it as a compliment to be compared to H - Potter.
Grr. Potter again.
Just then he heard someone outside his door snap out the passwords impatiently, and then his door was promptly flung open and the tall, platinum blonde, arrogant form of Draco Malfoy strode in.
*****
Whee! One more down. Next chapter is my favourite, cause there's lots of snark and Draco. Mmm. Comment and make me happy, please? I'll post more...
Chapter Five!