The Fable of the Fantastical Feast
So, this is my second fanfic. You may remember me from such humor fics as The Magical Tale of the Mischevious Malfoys. (I like alliteration.)
I'm starting my senior year of high school. And I'm still writing these things. Yeah I'm a nerd.
Chapter One
Harry sat, chin in hand, gazing at what he saw as unspeakable beauty.
The black tresses, similar to his own, cascaded around the unbelievable loveliness that was the pale-as-paper face. The nose on this face was less than perfect, but it had
character.
Harry promptly looked down to see his cauldron bubbling over.
"Shit," he murmured, cleaning up the liquid that had covered his workspace.
Professor Snape approached him, peering down his hook-like nose into the mess that sat, bubbling, all over both Harry and the floor.
"No points for today, then, Potter," he said, made a tick mark in his little black notebook, and sauntered away.
Harry watched him go, listless. He was happy for the attention, however cruel-spirited or mean, from his dearest Snapey-poo.
Oh, how he had pined for his love through the years! Everyone thought their relationship was one of deepest resentment, but alas! They did not see what Harry saw. He had eyes for no other.
Little did Harry know, however, there was a certain blonde boy eyeing him from across the classroom. This certain platinum-haired chap saw the look in Harry's eyes, and grew immediately jealous.
Hermione, on the other hand, saw all of it.
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY ALL OF YOU BOYS FALL IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. YOU'RE FROM RIVAL HOUSES, IT'S ENTIRELY IMPROBABLE, YOU WANT TO KILL EACH OTHER, AND NO AUTHOR IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD PUT HOMOSEXUALITY IN A CHILDREN'S BOO-" she started.
"Fifteen points from Gryffindor, then, for insufferable logical thoughts!" Snape shouted right back at her.
This quieted her down.
Harry and Draco, however, were simultaneously forming plans.
"If I could just whip up one of my famous batches of Caramel-Swirl Fudgearific Fondant Cookies and share them with him on a moonlit evening," Harry mused, "He'd be mine forever!"
"One whiff of my blancmange," Draco thought, "And Harry will fall deeply in love with my masterful culinary nature!"
Hermione was brooding in the corner, racking her brains for some trace of logic in this situation. The author immediately silenced her.
Ron, however, was face-down on his desk, scrawling something in his journal.
"I think Harry has a thing for Snape," he wrote. "Malfoy's definitely jealous. Hermione just got all OHEHMGEE about something, but she's not worth listening to. Seamus and Dean are laughing at something in the corner. I wish I could be friends with them instead. Why won't anyone talk to me? Oh yeah, that's right. Because I have to record all the drama I can think of in this insufferable journal, and go back and lament about it in the dormitory when all the other boys are asleep. If only they knew this pain, like a thousand knives jabbing at the depths of my soul. They just can't understand my stream of consciousness style of carping. On that note, I think The Weird Sisters have sold out. From now on, I'm only going to be listening to experimental bandsaw music, or wand pop."
Current Mood: Bored
Current Music: Snape's criticism
…That's all. It'll get better with time.