Yule Ball Shenanigans
A/N: I have always loved "Lamentations of a Starry-eyed Twit" and since She's a Star seems to have given up on that wonderful story, I decided to borrow her Auriga for a little standalone story. I do not expect to even come close to the original's level of hilarity and utter brilliance, but maybe you'll enjoy this anyway. So please consider this not a rip-off but a kind of homage to ffnet's funniest. :-)
1/3
Sinister beginnings
Professor Snape was not amused.
To describe his condition more accurately one would have to mention that he was totally and completely furious. The reason was Minerva McGonagall who had just had herself a formidable five minutes teasing the potions master about a little accident that had occurred to him at his first Yule Ball back in his days as a Hogwarts student. It was, as the deputy head of Hogwarts most definitely was perfectly aware of, an incident that he would have preferred to have put to rest for the rest of his increasingly miserable life.
The greasy-haired potions master swept along the corridors, long slender fingers firmly closed around his wand inside his robes that impressively flared up behind him with every step he took.
If anyone should dare step into his way or bother him in any other respect, he would surely avara kadavra the unfortunate individual on the spot. Unforgivable or not, he would be doing it with great pleasure. Fortunately for all the other castle-dwellers, he was not very likely to be spoken to because the menacing sight of him surely was enough for anyone to bury the idea of approaching him.
Except for maybe one person: The starry eyed twit, as he had more than once referred to the petite Astronomy professor that actually went by the name Auriga Sinistra, was unfortunate enough to be hurrying along the same corridor that he was gliding through at that very moment.
Her auburn hair as frizzy as ever and her glasses horribly lopsided on her pointed nose, she clutched a frenzy of papers to her chest while obviously in a hurry to escape the hallway that opened to the atrium from where the cold December wind blew mercilessly.
However, the wind wasn't half as merciless as Severus Snape who stopped short in his tracks as he laid his dark, cataclysmic eyes on her dishevelled appearance.
So he stood there, upright in a stance that would have been menacing enough to maybe rattle the Dark Lord himself… just to be ignored.
Instead, the young professor hurried past him in a cloud of dark blue robes and auburn curls.
Even at his worst, Professor Snape told himself in order to smooth his embarrassed ego, he would not look as horribly unprofessional as she did.
He shrugged inwardly. This opportunity was actually quite fortunate, so he might as well take advantage of it and make a little fun of her. A little might be an understatement, he confessed to himself. Actually he felt quite like ruining the undoubtedly crumpled remains of her self-esteem once and for all. (Insert maniacal laughter here.)
"Auriga!", he called after her, employing the sneer that was especially reserved to make people feel not simply intimidated, but also not so kindly reduced to a smoking pile of ashes at his feet.
"Yes, Severus?", she replied, a little too absent- minded to suit Snape's mood. She was to be furious, otherwise it would not be any fun. Never mind, he thought, he hadn't even got started yet! Soon, the Astronomy professor would be furious alright. Positively fuming, really. With rage. He snickered inwardly.
"Might I comment on your rather…", he sneered in utter perfection, and silently congratulated himself on another breach of record concerning the amount of evilness his facial expression could convey. "… unsuitable appearance?"
"You might not", she answered still casually, but knowing her well, he could already detect the barely recognizable pitch in her voice. In other words: To the trained ear the sound of her cracking façade was clearly audible.
"Well, Auriga. Then let me put it like this: I am actually doing you a favour by reminding you to at least attempt to look a little more decent around the school corridors."
Her soft snort brought a feeling of relief to him. He had just been about to believe that he had lost his touch. But he surely hadn't, because he could clearly see a small flame flickering behind her thick glasses. One that had to be carefully kindled to grow into a blazing fire that would reduce everything in sight to ashes. Except for a certain potions master, of course, to whom it would be an utmost pleasure to light the fire again. And again. Melodramatic, Severus Snape was of course not.
"And why is that so?", she asked with now barely contained rage.
"Well, because otherwise students with restricted eyesight like our beloved celebrity Mister Potter might mistake you for Hagrid and although you are not quite as tall, a certain bulkiness in you is undeniable."
Her eyes widened. Now he had her. He had her big time.
Since he was quite a few inches taller than her and there weren't any coffee mugs presently available to be thrown, he felt quite safe insulting her like that. Unfortunately for him, he had not expected her to have grown some long, sharp fingernails that now dug quite painfully into his forearm. At least she had had the decency to only harm his left arm.
"You dare mock other people about their looks, Severus?", she shrieked. "With hair like that? And the wardrobe of an overgrown bat?"
He was quite used to her poor –yet inventive- choice of insults, hence he was not in the slightest way intimidated, but the pain got to him after a while, so he tried to loosen her death-grip on him with growing distress.
"Does it hurt?", she asked quite sweetly, when she looked up to see the pain in his dark eyes.
"No", he lied, voice shockingly husky from the pain. "But those nails make you even more of a banshee than the mean look in your eyes already does."
If he had not expected her to be able to squeeze any harder, he had clearly been mistaken.
A small uncharacteristic yelp escaped his lips, which could have been quite sensual, hadn't they always been disgraced by a rather vicious sneer. For that thought, Auriga mentally slapped herself –no- hit herself over the head with the bloody goblet of fire.
It actually wasn't all that bad this Trimagic Tournament since it was commonly being associated with one certain Yule Ball that had always set snog records, presented tipsy teachers and certain students that made total fools of themselves. During her second year in Hogwarts, for instance, one greasy-haired fifth year that she had always despised with all her heart although he most probably hadn't even known she existed.
She smiled a cruel smile to herself. Now he most definitely did.
"Well, Severus. Your behaviour is particularly lovely today. Does the Yule Ball bring back any kind of fond memories that I should know of?"
Few people would have ever even considered sorting Severus Snape into the tanned, healthy looking category, but if possible, he paled even more at her mentioning what might have been the worst day in his anyhow miserable life.
(Being a death eater hadn't exactly been a walk in the park either, but at least The Dark Lord had never thrown parties attending which one could embarrass oneself so thoroughly. In bad times, Snape had actually wondered whether his decision to join the lines of Voldemort's followers had been rooted in the utter embarrassment of that fateful evening, but had quickly dismissed the idea for its being entirely too pathetic.)
His voice, however, sounded as confident as ever as he replied: "Let go of my arm, Auriga, before I accidentally stain your… well, how can I possibly put it, to avoid another one of your pathetic attacks- sorry excuse for robes… with blood."
She had already opened her mouth to present him with a carefully elaborated chain of insults, when her gaze actually dropped.
He had not just been mocking her since there was actually a small amount of blood dripping from his forearm. Shrieking, she let go of him and almost immediately found herself squashed against the wall behind her by his weight. Having one angry Severus Snape on top of one did not actually rank at the top of the hit list of cherished fantasies among Hogwarts inhabitants. In fact it was absolutely off scale.
She wasn't particularly scared, though, since he hadn't drawn his wand on her yet. As long as that did not happen, she could still hope not to end up dead or at least minus a limb or two.
"Will you please refrain from hurting me again", he whispered in a voice that was so dangerously low that she could barely understand what he was saying. His massive nose was now only inches from her face and she could smell the distinctive fragrance of cinnamon that she had wondered about before, when he had grudgingly offered her his cloak while out in the rain.
There was probably no way, now, that he would ever do that again. If she had ever evoked any gentlemanly behaviour in Snape, it was now over.
So over.
She could see the vein throbbing in his temple. Sparks seemed to shoot towards the ceiling as he obviously tried to stab her by the sole means of extremely nasty looks.
Would Severus Snape hit a woman? Auriga wondered. – Probably. Not a comforting notion at all. Well, and even if he would not, chances were low that he actually considered her a woman. Or a human being, for that matter.
"Would you please let me go?", she asked and employed a flutter of her eyelids that she noticed was completely misplaced with Snape even before he started mocking her about it.
"Do stop that, Auriga, or I shall be forced to bring up unflattering comparisons."
"And I shall kick you in the gut, dungeon dwelling moron!", she replied furiously and tried to grab him, but failed miserably, since he was blocking her arms and legs.
"Now what! Are you going to have me pinned to this wall until New Year's eve?"
Snape sneered, but his eye twitched suspiciously.
"Maybe in your pathetic little day dreams I do cherish your closeness that much, Auriga", he replied. "But unfortunately I shall have to inform you, that reality sports a slight difference on that matter."
"Oh, really? Then why are you holding me this close? If anybody rounded that corner just this minute, they might as well believe that we were engaged in something that Minerva would most certainly call absolutely shameless and utterly inappropriate."
For the second time that day Auriga Sinistra had the exquisite opportunity to watch Severus Snape's face go from pale to grey. In comparison, Headless Nick would have looked like a recent returnee from a trip to the Caribbean. Who'd forgotten to bring sun blocker, she added mentally, just to make the image more vivid and the metaphor even more pathetic.
"Let go of me immediately, dear Severus", she paused to dwell on her impending triumph a bit longer. "Or I shall inform the student body of your charming episode at the Yule Ball."
Her smile was saccharine and her deep green eyes did not show even the slightest hint of evil. She was pure innocence in his arms. In his arms? Snape gasped.
This was not some kind of embrace. On the contrary, it was nothing more than an average defence manoeuvre. And he was the expert on Defence Against the Dark Arts and The Sharp-nailed Twits of the World.
Severus Snape let go. Very reluctantly. Not because he actually enjoyed her close proximity. Of course.
Now that he was no longer holding her hostage, he was deprived… relieved of the utterly unpleasant feeling of her soft body being pressed against his.
Splendid. Really.
He stared at her for a second, so lost in his strictly non-romantic thoughts that he actually forgot to sneer. (And twitch and shudder with revulsion.)
At the same time, his nemesis, as he called her although she was actually too pathetic to be one, was thinking along the same lines, or would have, had her mind not been filled with countless layers of denial concerning every tiniest positive sentiment towards one certain Potions Master.
Sans the ever prominent sneer he looked almost attractive with the crooked nose and these incredibly full lips… No, she hadn't just thought that. And if she had, it was all due to Snape squeezing her so hard, that the passageways for the blood had been blocked and she was now seriously… ahm, what did you call it? Damn it, seriously… out of blood. And as every house elf knew, that meant that clear thinking was off limits. Entirely.
That must be it. It was all Snape's fault.
As usual.
Bastard, she thought.
One could have assumed that the situation at hand was unable to deteriorate any further, but as usual, one would have been wrong.
Smiling serenely, the loathed twinkle in his blue eyes, Dumbledore walked around the corner, or sparkled around the corner, for that matter, since his robes appeared to be covered in tiny diamonds. Sinistra's mouth fell open while Snape's expression remained entirely blank for a whole minute.
"Ah, I see!", Dumbledore raised a long slender finger and pointed at them, who realized that exact second, that they were still standing very close to each other. "An intimate talk in the corner."
Before Snape could protest, Dumbledore had produced a gigantic piece of parchment and a quill that had apparently been stuck behind his ear for safekeeping.
"So, Auriga Sinistra and Severus Snape. Very nice, very nice indeed."
He smiled brightly and for a second Auriga was under the impression that he had also magically glued a diamond to one of his front teeth.
"By the way, I have just had an appointment with my tailor. Would you say that it's too much for a simple Yule Ball?"
Auriga cast a fleeting look at Snape who seemed unable to answer due to a smile that twitched so violently at his lips, that he had difficulty keeping it under control. It was quite an unusual sight.
"No, Sir. It's…", she trailed off. What? Beautiful? "Certainly interesting", she added while Dumbledore turned on the spot like a little girl in a summer dress, which made his robes twirl dangerously.
"Oh thank you, dear", Dumbledore answered and scribbled onto his parchment. "I'll make sure to get the both of you good seats on the 24th. I should be able to squeeze two more people onto my table."
The smile Snape had been fighting disappeared instantly.
"You expect me to sit with…" his voice dropped several octaves. "... her?"
Dumbledore's smile did not falter but, if possible, became even brighter.
"Oh sure, Severus. Since she will be your date for the evening! I understand that I have just added your names to my list of couples."
"Couples?", Snape spat and Sinistra almost expected him to throw himself at Dumbledore, wrestle the parchment out of his hands and fiercely cross out their names several times.
"For the ball", Dumbledore now sounded like a dear grandfather that chuckled at his naïve grandson. "Of course I would never dare violate your privacy by asking whether you two…"
"I am afraid there has been a slight misunderstanding." Snape obviously had to force himself not to raise his tense voice.
Dumbledore looked at a loss. "In that case I am sorry, Severus, but if I remove your names from my list, you will be hexed."
"What? You performed magic on that list?", Snape asked, flabbergasted.
At least Dumbledore had the grace to look sheepish.
"Well, that fact is actually quite well known. Minerva has been spreading the news all year. I introduced this policy due to the fact that some boys who undoubtedly believed themselves to be funny, invited unpopular girls to the ball and dropped them the same evening. Not a very nice thing to do, I daresay."
Snape's pallor had worsened. He looked almost dead now.
"Which means that I would have to expect severe magical punishment if I decided to feign an incurable illness for the evening?"
Auriga was impressed. He had pretty much summed up her own thoughts. Damn Legilimency.
"I am afraid so", Dumbledore beamed. "But never mind. It is going to be a formidable evening. Good day to you, Auriga, Severus."
And with a swish of sparkly robes he was gone.
"I will see you in the hall at eight, Auriga. And dare you if you are late", Snape scowled and left with his own swish of robes, which happened to be not so sparkly. Several bat comparisons and obscenities crossed Auriga's mind before an evil smile appeared on her face.
"And wash that hair of yours!". She called after the potions-master.
Before he could start chasing her, she had fled.
Damn her, Severus Snape thought. And his life was even more miserable than it had been only ten minutes ago.
Twit!
- to be continued -