Snape woke up in the morning in a terrible mood. He knocked his flimsy bedstand over, which held his half-empty glass of stale water, jar of dragon blood and shrine to Lily Potter. He set his foot on the ground and immediately felt moisture seeping into his hole-toed sock. Surprised, he placed his other foot on the ground and cut his foot on the broken glass frames of Lily's pictures.
"Dragon turds!" he cursed loudly. After wasting fifteen minutes cleaning up the mess, he grumpily stormed into his bathroom and shrieked when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Little black bugs were hopping about in his hair. As he scratched his greasy locks furiously, his eyes scanned the room for any possible reason as to the insects. Snape noted that his pillow had the initials W T embroidered on the side.
"Wormtail!" he howled. Wormtail came scurrying from a rat hole and transformed back into his human form.
"Yes, Severus?" he squeaked.
"Wormtail, you bastard! You've given me lice!" spat Snape.
"Impossible. I haven't even been in your room," protested Wormtail.
"Then why is my pillow gone?" snarled Snape.
"Oh…well. It was just so clean and white, and I thought I'd just…indulge myself," he stammered.
"Why isn't your pillow white?"
"It was white," said Wormtail. Snape looked to the black pillow and wretched.
"Get out of my room, you filthy rat! And stay out of my things, or I'll have the Dark Lord castrate you! I'll castrate you myself, with a rusty paperclip!"
In a foul mood, he stormed into the Great Hall to have a minute long breakfast. Everyone else was gone to their respective classes, and he sighed. The Muggle Studies teacher had left her queer breakfast on the table, and he observed the strange food with displeasure. A still steaming brown drink in the place of pumpkin juice, and Crunchy Nut Cereal instead of his usual egg and bacon sandwich.
Frowning, he took a sip of the coffee. His eyes widened and he frantically looked for somewhere to spit the bitter liquid. Swivelling around he expelled the drink from his mouth without looking to see what was in front of him. Dumbledore's lectern was sodden and his notes had turned a nasty colour.
Gasping for breath, he tried a spoonful of the Crunchy Nut Cereal. After being left for an hour, the cereal had hardened immensely. Something went crunch in his mouth, but it wasn't the cereal.
A piercing scream cracked all the windows in the Great Hall as Snape expressed his agony rather vocally. Ten minutes later, grimacing heavily and fifteen minutes late for his first class with Gryffindor and Slytherin, he left the Hospital Wing.
Upon entering the class, a deafening tumult reached his ears. A pair of students were duelling, another two playing Wizard's Chess and several playing Exploding Snap. That annoying know-it-all Granger had her head down in a book, as well as many well-behaved Slytherins. Potter and his pals were scribbling on the chalk board, which was decorated with many crude drawings of himself being hit in the head with an axe, drowning in a cauldron, being shot with an arrow in his eye, driving off a cliff in a Muggle contraption called a 'car' and a caricature of him with a huge hooked nose and grease dripping off his face in slimy waves. The caption was: I touch myself.
His eye twitched.
The students, realising he had entered, were at their desks in an instant. The classroom was returned to normal in seconds, and the chalkboard was clean. Breathing deeply, he began the lesson. "Class, I am not in the mood for your tripe this lesson. Turn to page 294 in your textbooks and create the potion. Bring it out the front when you are finished."
They worked silently in the beginning, but the noise gradually grew louder and louder as the end of Potions was in sight and many were only three-quarters finished. In his haste to reach the front, a little Gryffindor pushed past everyone and tripped over his own feet. His potion went flying into Snape's face.
A hissing sound filled the room, and flames began to lick at Snape's clothing.
"Sorry Professor!" gasped the student. But he did not hear the apology, because at that moment, Snape was screaming his head off while the potion, which contained crushed beetle juice and a fresh onion and had just been taken off the cauldron's heat, burned him and irritated his eyes.
He left the Hospital Wing for the second time that morning as the clock struck twelve.
Snape hates Mondays.
A/N: I'm planning for the next chapter to be Tuesday, then Wednesday, etc, through to Sunday. Review if you want more! :D