The Fanciful Musings of Severus Snape, a harry potter fanfic

What is life?

Is it a torturous awkward silence which we must endure?

Or rather is it something that can be manipulated so pleasure will spew out of its pores.

How rude of me,

Let me introduce myself.

I am Professor Severus Snape,

The potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Or at least, I am normally there,

But since it is the summer I am stuck to dwell in my "crappy crib" as the local teenagers call it.

Oh, and these local teenagers are muggles.

Yes, I, the most prestigious of all professors of magic,

Live in one of the worst muggle neighborhoods in Warwick, England.

I pace on the heavily stained and treaded down carpet of my one story shack.

What is life?

Is there a purpose to it other than trying to ruin children's lives, hopes and dreams?

Hmmm…

This brings a smile to my face,

Which has not appeared since some local children complemented my hair.

They said, "Hey, man, nice hair," in between hysterical laughter and puffs on their cigarettes.

It's moments like these that make me appreciate life

And maybe even children too.

Nope, not children.

They were so young and innocent,

Not a hint of sarcasm in their voices.

Not at all like pricks that I have to teach.

Oh, did I say pricks, no that's improper,

They are definitely complete bastards.

I twist a tendril of my luscious hair between my fingers,

The grease coats my finger heavily and makes it glint ominously in the flickering candle light.

It's so perfect.

My one beauty and love in my life,

Is my hair.

I can tell by the way people's lips curl when they see my hair

That they wish it grew from their heads.

And when I let a bit sweep across their face,

They all vomit due to jealousy.

After being mesmerized for a good thirty minutes,

I head over to my beaten and stained sofa,

To watch some dreadful muggle television.

I click on the tellie to find that dreadful old show on again.

The title leads one to assume there are snakes

(which was initially why I started watching it)

But so far I have not seen a single snake.

They are doing that dreadful skit where the men dress up as old women

And they put on screechy voices and pretend to be real women.

Watching this brings back a strong memory of Dumbledore's birthday party last year.

Remembering this triggers a brief bout of vomiting which was rudely interrupted by some scratching at the door.

I wipe my mouth on my gorgeous billowing robes, and walk to the door.

An owl has delivered a letter that is clearly from Dumbledore

Because of the swirly writing and the fact that it is dripping due to all the perfume sprayed on it.

I throw the sopping envelope onto my desk which holds another letter, from the Malfoys.

If there is anything I hate more than letters from rich parents

Asking if I can babysit their nearly grown son for the summer

Because they are going on a cruise of the Caribbean without him,

It is the fact that Dumbledore actually thinks Manly Musk in the Morning smells good, and the fact that once his letter enters my house, my whole home smells like a musky man in the morning for a week.

I quickly open the letter which then dumps

Some more of that appalling perfume all over my striking shoes.

I read the letter, throw up a little bit in the back of my mouth, and then read it again,

To make sure I had read it right.

My body falls to the floor,

The letter fluttering from my hands into a puddle of my newt's urine.

I twitch for a good four hours there on the floor,

As the sentences run over and over again in my mind.