Essaying To Cope
Abysmal, wrote Snape.
He flipped to the next parchment.
Turgid.
Badly parsed.
Thesis unsubstantiated. What language is this?
Absurd to the point of pure idiocy.
PUNCTUATE!
"Amusing yourself, Severus?"
"Minerva." He didn't look up. "Finished already?"
"You needn't rub it in." She cast a jaundiced eye around his parchment-papered office. "Not that I find myself envying your workload."
"While Albus has become completely untouchable -- and he gets out of doing all this... he planned it this way, I'm certain..."
She sniffed. "I hope you're enjoying your newfound fame."
"No," growled Snape. "Now get out. I have fanfiction to grade."
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