A/N: Okay, since some of you actually LIKED "The Triwizard Cup…Or is it Spoon?" I've decided to try one about…Snape's desk! YAY! * Goes insane * BEHOLD THE POWER OF SUGAR! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! (smiles sweetly) hyperness!
METMA rules, no? And METMA Mandy rules, too! YAY!
Oh, and don't forget that if your review doesn't go through, e-mail me, okay? I absolutely LOVE reviews, and I love using flames to make myself pancakes and kill my lunatic social studies teacher, too! * takes gigantic breath * But, I haven't got a flame so far, so forget I said that…
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Don't waste your time pitying that dark-haired Gryffindor, Potter. Pity me instead.
I have the unfortunate fate of being Snape's desk.
That's right.
Snape's
desk.I am one of the most hated items in all of Hogwarts, second only to Filch and Mrs. Norris, but they aren't objects. To improvise I guess it would be Sir Cadogan who was the most hated.
I used to be beautiful (deleted semicolon) once; I was made out of ebony wood. I still am, you just can't tell now.
I've been Snape's desk for ages. Since he was about nine, I guess. He used to read books on me, draw on me, and write in his journal.
I remember his journal because when he was twelve, he tipped it over when the ink was wet, and his parents were constantly bribing him with the quote, "Lily Evans is the greatest! Her hair is like red gold, and her eyes are as exquisite as the emerald amulet she wears around her neck…I want she and I to be more than friends…" He only just lived that down.
I used to glow constantly, when Snape used to clean me daily. I must admit, I was spoilt, but those days were good. He – it's disgusting, now you think about it – he used to kiss me before he went to bed for practice and call me Lily. YUK! I suppose I was the only thing he could kiss, seeing as Lily didn't know he existed. Sometimes he got carried away, and I'd be covered in snot and spit until morning, when he'd spit on me some more and rub the same dirty cloth over me and miss the same spots near my legs, but did I care? NO, I had it too easy, see?
When he grew to about sixteen, he discarded of his journal and became extremely pissed. He used to ritually carve "SS/LE forever" and "DIE, POTTER, DIE!" into my back.
When he got a job at Hogwarts, he stopped cleaning me. He stopped cleaning his hair, for that matter too, and boy, did it start to stink! On occasions you'd think there was a lump in his hair, but it was usually just a bat snoozing,
Now I am covered in dust. My wood is rotting away, junk is in my drawers, the kids are spitting on me to see if Snape will notice, putting dungbombs in all of my compartments (I had to get one of them replaced it stank so badly) and carving "SNAPE NEEDS A LIFE!" all over me.
I put up with the spit and snot from when Snape was a kid, but that was only because of the care he used to give me.
I've made up my mind: I'm going to collapse one day, right on top of Snape's head, for revenge. Sure, I might never be put back together, and sure Snape might be permanently brain damaged, but it's worth it to stop the kids, paintings and other desks hating me!
I suppose it could be worse, though…I could have been Snape's comb.
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A/N: okay, I don't think that this is worthy of being called a METMA fic, but hey, I didn't alert METMA to my other ficcy, so I had to do something!
Disclaimer: BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH HP characters not mine BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH belong to JK Rowling BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH…
Guess what? It's R/R time (or at least R/R attempting time)!
Ginny .H. Weasley J
R/R NOW!