LOVE TRIA…OCTAGON?
A/N: This is my first ever HP fic. So be kind on me. All reviews accepted, including flames (I find them funny).
As for the storyline, it came to me while I was supposed to be studying. And since I am not really into the romance and mushy-mushy stuff, I will concentrate on the humour genre. BUT it also depends on how you guys like it. So that means…you have to REVIEW.
The timeline is after Voldemort dies (don't ask me how, that's for J.K. Rowling to decide).
The rating is PG-13 (to be safe and will remain that way)
DISCLAIMER: Okay. Fine. I admit it. I don't own Harry Potter (the story). Satisfied?
CHAPTER 1
"I will not do it," Snape hissed.
"Severus, my boy," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling madly. "You have to admit it's a brilliant plan."
"Brilliant plan on what?" Snape retorted. "Killing me prematurely? I can see the headlines already - 'TEENAGERS SUCEED WHERE THE DARK LORD HIMSELF FAILED'."
"Now, now," Dumbledore said as if speaking with a petulant 5-year old. "Have I ever asked you to do something that would endanger your life?"
Snape simply looked at him in disbelief.
"There it is settled then," Dumbledore said happily. "Come on, Severus, it can't be that bad."
One look at the man sitting in front of him showed Dumbledore that Snape certainly thought it was that bad. He looked positively ashen, like a man awaiting his impending and inevitable doom.
Dumbledore quietly slipped out, escaping, before hell broke loose, leaving Fawkes, the phoenix, to deal with it. It wouldn't be nice to die now of all times. It wouldn't be nice at all.
A head poked out from underneath a chair. It slowly turned its head to take in the damage of the once impeccably clean office. Its eyes soon fell on the source of the destruction.
He was slumped on one of the few chairs that were still miraculously left undamaged. His face was obscured by the fact that he was resting his head on his hands which was further hidden by a curtain of long black hair.
Fawkes deemed it was safe enough to come out and flew and perched on to top of a lamp on the wall. It then ruffled out the dust in his feathers and preened it back meticulously.However, it soon grew tense and went still when Snape slowly looked up.
Snape smiled dryly.
"What exactly does it take for your meddling old dotard of a master to stop meddling?" he asked not unaffectionately.
Fawkes slowly relaxed and stared fixedly at him.
"I guess I was being far too hopeful in that aspect," Snape said slowly, looking at Fawkes' 'You ARE dumb expression.'
He then snorted.
"What is the world coming to?" Snape muttered to himself. "Me? Hopeful? Birds have expressions? Since when?"
Then something large landed on his head.
"Fine…you are not justany bird," Snape said, rolling his eyes.
Fawkes flew away, appeased, for now.
"Maybe the war did something to him," Snape continued musing, "He is rather old after all."
"For Merlin's sake," Dumbledore said, in the adjacent room, looking disgruntled. "I am not that old."
Snape gave a long suffering sigh. Then suddenly, his face… You could almost see the his brain mechanics working overtime.
"Interesting," he mumbled.
Fawkes cocked his head.
"You know Fawkes," he said slowly. "I think I am looking at in the wrong way."
Dumbledore froze. Was Snape really…considering it?
"Let me see," Snape said, his smirk falling in place like it belonged there. "Four out of eight happen to be…Gryffindors."
Snape's eyes glinted.
"What do you think Fawkes?" he asked. "Countless hours of tormenting, sorry, I mean, torturing Gryffindors – sounds like fun, doesn't it?"
If Fawkes had an eyebrow, it would have been a mile high.
In the other room, Dumbledore smacked his forehead.
"Why, oh, why did I have to meddle?"
"Potter, Granger, Weasley 6 and 7, Delacour, Parkinson, Malfoy," Snape barked.
There was immediate nudging and whispering.
"Weasley 6?" Malfoy sneered. "I suppose that is the only way to keep track of them all. The way they breed!" Malfoy continued, shuddering with disgust.
Both the said Weasley and his best-friend, Potter, lunged at him.
"That's enough!" Snape growled. "20 points from Gryffindor and it will be 50 if you don't come here by the time I count to five."
They sprinted over.
"Good to see that you possess some amount of basic motor skills," he said looking pointedly at the Gryffindors.
"Professor, may I enquire as to why we are here?" Gabriel asked.
"You may," he replied curtly.
One minute passed. Gabriel looked confused. Hermione looked about to speak when Snape shot her a look. Hermione was effectively silenced. Others were staring at their feet.
Five minutes passed. Gabriel looked really confused. Others were shuffling their feet.
Snape continued looking at them impassively.
Suddenly Gabriel's face cleared.
"Why are we here, Professor?" she asked.
"Ms Delacour," Snape said in his most disgusted voice. "I do believe that the term 'dumb blond' was specifically meant for you."
"Just answer the question, Snape," Potter growled.
"Patience is a virtue, Potter," he smirked. "Something that is clearly beyond your grasp. 5 points from Gryffindor."
Potter looked about to explode when Granger stepped on his foot.
"I am here to inform you that from now on, I am your…counselor," he said as if it pained him. "So if you have any life-threatening problem or are traumatized by the Final Battle, please do drop by my office."
With that Snape left them with a trademark billowing of robes leaving behind 7 flabbergasted teenagers, openly gaping at him.
"By the way, it was Dumbledore's idea," Snape called out.
A/N Done at last. Please review.
