Disclaiming Charm: If you sue, you'll get nothing but a beat up laptop and three Yorkies. So no. I don't own it.
Notes of a Numerical Nitwit
Prologue:
Monday, August 30, 1995
13:40
Dear Merlin.
Dumbledore has just graduated from 'vaguely senile' to 'dementedly insane'. Honestly, that man is just not all there.
Why, you ask, this sudden upgrade?
Simple: he has given us all diaries. Diaries for Merlin's sakes! And then promptly twinkled dementedly as he said that they were there to keep us sane.
Us. His staff. Not him. Us!
Admittedly, the man may know he's too far gone to be able to turn back now... but still! Diaries! I never even kept one when I was a teenager.
Alright, so my life was just too boring to warrant a diary back then. I spent most of my time scribbling at some equation or another. And there were no boys who were interested in me so I couldn't scribble things about them in there either.
My mother is right.
My love life is depressingly non-existent.
Anyway, the highlight of the staff meeting (which I am scribbling in here so that I may have a hard copy to chuckle over when I'm feeling blue) was Snape's reaction to the diaries.
"Headmaster." He said in that pure velvet voice that generally spells doom to everyone in the room. "What new level of supreme senility is this?"
He brandished his Gryffindor red diary.
Haha! Gryffindor red! A diary! I never thought I'd see the day!
That was a rather funny sight.
Anyway, supreme senility. That's where I left off.
"Why my boy! That's my gift to you all!" Dumbledore twinkled at him.
"And why, headmaster, do you feel the need to inflict such torture upon your staff?" He was now staring at the diary in disgust, holding it by one corner only, as though it were some rabid virus.
"Well, I read in an article..."
Which was when the entire staff shuddered. Albus reading an article is never ever a good thing.
"... that writing one's feelings in a diary is therapeutic!" The man finished with a flourish.
"Therapeutic? Therapeutic? Albus, you are the only person on this staff who can be classified as a scatty senile senescent coot!"
How's that for alliteration? Severus Snape seems to have a thing for alliteration. Might be because of his name. Or just because he's a mean greasy bat bastard who probably spends all his time thinking up insults to hurl at unsuspecting people.
Apparently 'senescent' is a fancy way of calling Albus old.
I admit I had to go look it up.
…
There's no shame in it! English is hardly my field of expertise! Severus must read bloody dictionaries because even Albus looked momentarily confused at that.
Ha! I can just imagine him, his nose touching the parchment as he scribbles furiously whilst consulting his dictionary for obscure synonyms.
Haha!
Oh Merlin. Now Albus has given him a book in which to write these terrifying insults. He'd probably bequeath it to his Slytherins in his will so that they may one day also strike the fear of Merlin into unsuspecting bystanders.
Albus is obviously bat-shit-crazy.
Still, it's never stopped him before.
"Now my boy," (Okay, allow me to say that no one- and I mean no one- but Albus can get away with calling Severus boy. The rest of us would be killed on the spot!) Anyways.
"Now my boy," Dumbledore twinkled at the Dark Dungeon Bat, "I am merely thinking of my staff's mental wellbeing."
"How... caring." There it was- The Sneer of DoomTM! "I, however, shall excuse myself from this particularly imbecilic exercise."
"Now, now Severus. Surely as an educator you can understand the need for us all to keep at the forefront of all of our respective fields."
"This... thing is in no way related to my respective field." Severus sneered as he dropped the book into the trash can.
And promptly swept from the staff room.
Mere seconds later the Book from Hell came zooming out of the trash can right in front of our eyes. And, can I tell you, all of our eyes were round as saucers then.
The crash and cry of pure anguish (alright, it was more a sound of mumbled curses) that followed had us all piling out of the staff room and...
There was Severus Snape, being smacked about the head by the Book from Hell.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Oh.
There. That was just brilliant!
For a moment there we were all so drunk on amusement that we nearly missed Dumbledore's next words.
"Of course, I could hardly risk not having all of your full co-operation on this vitally important new study I shall be publishing. So the books have been charmed. You cannot dispose of them. And if you do not write in them daily you shall suffer endless head slaps from the book until you write in it."
Twinkle twinkle fucking twinkle.
Apparently Dumbledore is co-authoring a paper on whether keeping a (forced!) diary has any effect on the staff in a school.
Great. As though my life isn't enough of a freak show already, I am now a subject in an experiment.
No! No- think happy thoughts!
Like Snape.
Getting whacked about by a book.
Ahhhhh... that's better.
13:50
Aurora Sinistra has just informed me that my previous entry is a bit misleading.
Allow me to clarify: the thought of Severus Snape is in no way, shape or form comforting or amusing.
The thought of him being beaten by a book is, however.
Hahahaha!
Definitely comforting.
14:00
How am I going to survive this?
Do Arithmetic equations count as diary entries? Because, honestly, nothing else happens to me.
Hell. That sounds pathetic.
Don't judge me.
Damn you.
Tuesday, August 31
07:30
Hahahahaha!
Excuse me. I shouldn't take such pleasure in someone else's misery but...
!
Snape is suffering!
His book followed him into the staff room for breakfast this morning, all the while giving him head slaps, until the man finally gave in and ripped the thing out of the air and scribbled something in it.
And then it fell there.
Meek as a kitten.
As though it wasn't the Book of Doom.
!
Ahem.
Thank you Severus Snape, for giving me this diary entry.
07:33
For nothing else mind you.
I'm laughing at you. Not with you.
!
14:35
Damn it. My good mood just vanished thanks to that great greasy... greaseball of... dubious hygiene!
Who does he think he is? Swooping in out of nowhere and telling me- me- that I should just give up the diary exercise because, and I quote, "Your head is so full of idiotic mutterings, I admit I cannot imagine how hard it is for you to form a coherent sentence."
That BASTARD!
My head is not... Oh! Hey look!
My new Arithmancy Monthly just got here!
Yay! Fangirlish glee!
Ooooooh- that devillishly handsome Septimus Scragmore is on the cover...
Pardon me, I believe Septimus and I have a date...
14:40
Not an actual one, mind you.
Although we could if I so fancied it.
What?
We correspond via owl on all the latest topics!
…
Alright. So it's more that I wrote him a rather sincere inquiry as to his last article and he never really deigned to answer... but it's still technically a correspondence!
I think.
Oh, who cares!
He's brilliant, and gorgeous, and a bit more brilliant...
It's like when he was made the gods followed a recipe that went:
2 dashing grey eyes.
1 greek nose.
1 head of sleek, gorgeously waved butterscotch coloured hair.
1 set of large, manly shoulders
7 brains worth of intellect.
Sigh.
He's so perfect.
14:00
Just realized that I have been sighing into my diary on how wonderful Septimus is.
Ha! Take that teenage years!
I finally got the right guy to crush on!
Dear Merlin, what am I doing with my life?
19:01
Wonder if I should write to him again?
19:03
Septimus- not Snape.
I did try that once, when I was working on my Masters...
It ended badly.
19:07
How was I supposed to know he'd find out that I'd lied to my mother about having a boyfriend?
19:10
Hell, I hadn't even told her that! She saw that a man had written me a letter and assumed.
Was that my fault, I ask you?
Of course not!
19:20
I need a life.
19:30
I fail to see how scribbling in a notebook can possibly make me healthier or happier.
20:00
Must inform Dumbledore that it's obviously not working.
21:00
Damn it.
How do you write to a highly distinguished man that you have a crush on?
21:04
Still, I hope Snape will get whacked by his diary tomorrow.
Happy thought, that.
21:06
He could, of course be using it for the nefarious purpose of writing his favourite torture methods in.
Not such a happy though, that.
21:09
Still...
…
…
No good can possibly come of this.
Mark my words Dumbledore- mark my words!
21:14
Of course! How brilliant!
I am very good.
And evil.
Because yes, Severus Snape can use his diary for nefarious purposes, but so can I!
You see, no longer do I have to simply stand there and take abuse from that malicious mouth of his, no longer will I forget that I also have a tongue, no longer will the man mortify and abuse me!
No longer will I forget the awesome comeback that I spent days agonising over...
Erm. Not that I spend days agonising over my comebacks.
At all.
Okay, maybe I spend some time on them.
The point is: now I have a notebook (because calling it a diary is messing with my head. Seriously.) where I can record my comebacks and have them at my fingertips whenever I need them!
Mwahahahahahahahahahahaha!
Take that Snape!
21:20
Yay! Dumbledore's given me leave to have a go at modifying the wards! At last!
I give more fangirlish glee to thee my little notebook!
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
21:23
Note to self: Get a life. Please.
I depress myself sometimes.
NN-HP-NN
A/N: This is a little spin-off from Black and Blue that seems to have made itself a permanent nest in my head. I don't really know what to say, since my brain is so fried from my studies that I'm surprised it managed to be so persistent about getting this out there.
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