Severus Snape and the Magical Snow Pony
What better way to bring in the New Year than with a magical Snow Pony and a bit of torture of poor Sevvie-poo. Written because I could, inspired and dedicated to my stepsister, Erin. Because she's probably the only one that will get it. You have been warned.
Rating: G
Warnings: Snow Ponies and Mary Sues ahoy!
Severus Snape and the Magical Snow Pony:
A Crack!Fic to Bring in the New Year
It was a quiet afternoon, if not rather blustery, in the latter days of December. Christmas had come and gone in nearly the blink of an eye and so the holiday hustle and bustle had begun to slow, much to the delight of many of the Hogwarts staff. Poppy Pomfrey had always thought that winter brought a steadier flow of invalids into the Hospital Wing than did Quidditch season, what with the gorging at meals and violent snowball onslaughts. Minerva McGonagall had always been displeased with the fact that a break from studies in the near, obtainable future quickly became a greater distraction than a corridor teeming with dungbombs could be. Sybill Trelawney often agreed with the Transfiguration professor, for what more than thoughts of chocolates and brightly-wrapped parcels could cloud the inner eye?
That was not to say, of course, that the adults within the castle disliked Christmas, for indeed, many of them enjoyed it very much. Most especially Albus Dumbledore, whose festive hats became more ridiculous as the years passed. In fact, there was but one professor with enough indifference in regards to the world that he could view Christmas with a genuine loathing. To Severus Snape, formidal Potions Master and darkly-clad Slytherin extraordinaire, Christmas was nearly as terrible, if not worse, than Valentine's Day, both of which he was glad to be rid of each year.
And so, with Christmas gone and only the New Year looming ahead, the aforementioned professor had grown quite content. No longer was he required to calculate his route with the intent of avoiding mistletoe, no longer was he forced to cringe in pain at the off-key carols being screeched among the corridors. With these insufferable things gone, Hogwarts could-and had-returned to its usual self.
Or rather, that was what he thought. For unfortunately, Severus had become far too content and comfortable with the sobering effects of December twenty-sixth through thirty-first when he should have worried at the fact that things seemed to be serene. So perfect in every way that he could imagine. Severus was an excrutiatingly wary man by nature; he was nearly pessimistic by default as, each morning, he nursed his half-empty goblet of pumpkin juice. And so, perhaps it was for these reasons that he was the one to be targeted by the Snow Pony.
That afternoon, mentioned once before, so many words ago, Severus decided to patrol the grounds, looking for anyone or anything that remained festive. The culprits-if, indeed, any did remain-would be apprehended and dealt with accordingly.
The hem of his dark cloak swished lightly against the powdery piles of snow as he walked, his boots crunching in the now slightly-soiled layers of white. He could not determine whether or not he should feel pleased or displeased, for there seemed to be no one out and about, in spite of the hour. Though if he wasn't displeased, he was most certainly disappointed; there were not even the spirits of a frolicking Hufflepuff to crush, no points to deduct…
Suddenly, he stopped in mid-step, frozen like the fountain quite near to his left ankle. For directly in front of him, staring directly at him, no less, was a squat white pony with a relatively stiff pink mane. It tilted its head to one side, seeming to regard him with an inconceivable air of expectance.
"Dear Merlin," he breathed aloud, unconsciously stepping backward. As he did so, the pony inched toward him and pawed playfully at the snow. "I did not realize I had become so inebriated."
However, in spite of his words, Severus did not recall consuming even an ounce of firewhiskey within the past month-indeed, not a drop of butterbeer had passed his lips, and so this explanation seemed to be worthless. He placed the back of his hand to his forehead, testing the temperature, but found it to be quite cool. When the creature took another step forward, he whipped his wand from its pocket and held it in front of him, pointing at the pastel beast.
"I warn you, demon," he hissed, brandishing the slender wood. "Do not approach me, or I will strike."
And then something completely unexpected occurred. The pony tossed its head backward and began to convulse with laughter. Poor Severus paled and tightened his grip upon his wand.
"Silly human," it giggled in a manner that was uncomfortably reminiscent of one Dolores Umbridge. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"There is no sufficient reason for me to trust your word," he said carefully.
The beast blinked. "Of course there is."
Severus narrowed his eyes. "And what reason is that, pray?"
"I'm the magical Snow Pony."
Four beats passed, perhaps five. The Potions Master, not entirely sure that he had heard correctly, furrowed his brow. "I-I beg your pardon?"
"The magical Snow Pony. Order of Merlin, First Class." It blinked thrice more.
"I was not aware of the fact that titles were granted to, ah, animals," he said, the trace of a sneer within his tone. It was quite clear that either he or the beast were completely mad, and being an esteemed professor, respected highly in his field, he was more inclined to believe that it was he who was saner.
"Where I'm from, they are," the pony explained crossly, appearing to be insulted.
"And where, precisely, is that?" Severus inquired.
"From the Land of Mary Sue," the Snow Pony informed him, "where my mistress rules as Queen."
"'Mistress'?" He quirked an eyebrow.
"Yes. Miaka Moonbeam Malfoy. She's the most beautiful woman in all of the land and everyone loves her." A shadow passed across its features and its voice lowered. "All of the others disappeared, com to think of it… Though Amethyst and Sapphire weren't very pretty…" The pony began muttering to itself as its doe-brown eyes commenced twitching.
Severus took this moment to flee back inside of the castle, hoping desperately that the deranged creature would not be intelligent enough to realize that he had left. He would be safe inside of his office, he decided; perhaps a book and a cup of tea…
As he turned the corner, he caught sight of what seemed to be a large brown bush bobbing in his direction. His mouth turned upward, if only just.
"Miss Granger," he called, and the girl stopped abruptly, horribly eager to please.
"Yes Sir?"
"Ten points to Gryffindor if you can conceive a plausible method of extricating a magical Snow Pony from the Hogwarts Grounds."
fin
Rating: G
Warnings: Snow Ponies and Mary Sues ahoy!
Severus Snape and the Magical Snow Pony:
A Crack!Fic to Bring in the New Year
It was a quiet afternoon, if not rather blustery, in the latter days of December. Christmas had come and gone in nearly the blink of an eye and so the holiday hustle and bustle had begun to slow, much to the delight of many of the Hogwarts staff. Poppy Pomfrey had always thought that winter brought a steadier flow of invalids into the Hospital Wing than did Quidditch season, what with the gorging at meals and violent snowball onslaughts. Minerva McGonagall had always been displeased with the fact that a break from studies in the near, obtainable future quickly became a greater distraction than a corridor teeming with dungbombs could be. Sybill Trelawney often agreed with the Transfiguration professor, for what more than thoughts of chocolates and brightly-wrapped parcels could cloud the inner eye?
That was not to say, of course, that the adults within the castle disliked Christmas, for indeed, many of them enjoyed it very much. Most especially Albus Dumbledore, whose festive hats became more ridiculous as the years passed. In fact, there was but one professor with enough indifference in regards to the world that he could view Christmas with a genuine loathing. To Severus Snape, formidal Potions Master and darkly-clad Slytherin extraordinaire, Christmas was nearly as terrible, if not worse, than Valentine's Day, both of which he was glad to be rid of each year.
And so, with Christmas gone and only the New Year looming ahead, the aforementioned professor had grown quite content. No longer was he required to calculate his route with the intent of avoiding mistletoe, no longer was he forced to cringe in pain at the off-key carols being screeched among the corridors. With these insufferable things gone, Hogwarts could-and had-returned to its usual self.
Or rather, that was what he thought. For unfortunately, Severus had become far too content and comfortable with the sobering effects of December twenty-sixth through thirty-first when he should have worried at the fact that things seemed to be serene. So perfect in every way that he could imagine. Severus was an excrutiatingly wary man by nature; he was nearly pessimistic by default as, each morning, he nursed his half-empty goblet of pumpkin juice. And so, perhaps it was for these reasons that he was the one to be targeted by the Snow Pony.
That afternoon, mentioned once before, so many words ago, Severus decided to patrol the grounds, looking for anyone or anything that remained festive. The culprits-if, indeed, any did remain-would be apprehended and dealt with accordingly.
The hem of his dark cloak swished lightly against the powdery piles of snow as he walked, his boots crunching in the now slightly-soiled layers of white. He could not determine whether or not he should feel pleased or displeased, for there seemed to be no one out and about, in spite of the hour. Though if he wasn't displeased, he was most certainly disappointed; there were not even the spirits of a frolicking Hufflepuff to crush, no points to deduct…
Suddenly, he stopped in mid-step, frozen like the fountain quite near to his left ankle. For directly in front of him, staring directly at him, no less, was a squat white pony with a relatively stiff pink mane. It tilted its head to one side, seeming to regard him with an inconceivable air of expectance.
"Dear Merlin," he breathed aloud, unconsciously stepping backward. As he did so, the pony inched toward him and pawed playfully at the snow. "I did not realize I had become so inebriated."
However, in spite of his words, Severus did not recall consuming even an ounce of firewhiskey within the past month-indeed, not a drop of butterbeer had passed his lips, and so this explanation seemed to be worthless. He placed the back of his hand to his forehead, testing the temperature, but found it to be quite cool. When the creature took another step forward, he whipped his wand from its pocket and held it in front of him, pointing at the pastel beast.
"I warn you, demon," he hissed, brandishing the slender wood. "Do not approach me, or I will strike."
And then something completely unexpected occurred. The pony tossed its head backward and began to convulse with laughter. Poor Severus paled and tightened his grip upon his wand.
"Silly human," it giggled in a manner that was uncomfortably reminiscent of one Dolores Umbridge. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"There is no sufficient reason for me to trust your word," he said carefully.
The beast blinked. "Of course there is."
Severus narrowed his eyes. "And what reason is that, pray?"
"I'm the magical Snow Pony."
Four beats passed, perhaps five. The Potions Master, not entirely sure that he had heard correctly, furrowed his brow. "I-I beg your pardon?"
"The magical Snow Pony. Order of Merlin, First Class." It blinked thrice more.
"I was not aware of the fact that titles were granted to, ah, animals," he said, the trace of a sneer within his tone. It was quite clear that either he or the beast were completely mad, and being an esteemed professor, respected highly in his field, he was more inclined to believe that it was he who was saner.
"Where I'm from, they are," the pony explained crossly, appearing to be insulted.
"And where, precisely, is that?" Severus inquired.
"From the Land of Mary Sue," the Snow Pony informed him, "where my mistress rules as Queen."
"'Mistress'?" He quirked an eyebrow.
"Yes. Miaka Moonbeam Malfoy. She's the most beautiful woman in all of the land and everyone loves her." A shadow passed across its features and its voice lowered. "All of the others disappeared, com to think of it… Though Amethyst and Sapphire weren't very pretty…" The pony began muttering to itself as its doe-brown eyes commenced twitching.
Severus took this moment to flee back inside of the castle, hoping desperately that the deranged creature would not be intelligent enough to realize that he had left. He would be safe inside of his office, he decided; perhaps a book and a cup of tea…
As he turned the corner, he caught sight of what seemed to be a large brown bush bobbing in his direction. His mouth turned upward, if only just.
"Miss Granger," he called, and the girl stopped abruptly, horribly eager to please.
"Yes Sir?"
"Ten points to Gryffindor if you can conceive a plausible method of extricating a magical Snow Pony from the Hogwarts Grounds."
fin