A/N: It's a weeeeird idea, but I'll try to explain. Imagine you had some
posters of, say, Severus. What if he could see you through that poster? R&R
people! (Please? Pretty please?)
Disclaimer: I dearly wish Severus, Harry, Draco &tc &tc were mine. But no. Alas.
~~
Chapter One Harry's room.
Oh Merlin.
This can't be true.
Not Potter's room! Why? WHY?! What have I done to deserve this?
Yes, I know what I have done. Please don't recall it.
It was childish to give Malfoy that potion so he could poison Potter. All right. And yes, if you really want to know the truth, I loathe myself for it.
But STILL! Why on bloody Middle-Earth did Minerva have to send me *here* with that sodding spell of hers?
. . .
Did I just think Middle-Earth?
I should quit reading Lord of the Rings.
And why does Potter have me in his dorm, anyway? I feel very offended.
And embarassed, if you care to know.
The poster I'm in. . .
I don't take pleasure in being shown cursed by Potter senior. And especially not by a curse that makes one's hair green.
Except that . . . dreadful poster, this isn't even such a punishment.
It's just boring.
Potter does nothing but stare at his Transfiguration homework for the last twenty minutes. He doesn't have to make clear to me that 'empty' is written on his cranium - I've been trying to tell him that for the last five years.
Ah, finally! He moves!
Oh no. He cannot - he isn't -
He is. Undressing himself.
Oh well. Who gives a damn anyway.
White knickers? Huge white knickers? He has even less taste than I had expected.
And he should put on his glasses when he grabs his socks. One being red with gold stars and the other green with silver moons - the only thing missing is MADE BY DOBBY in scarlet capitals.
Potter, I know miss Dominant Know-it-all makes you love the little brats to death, and however you would please me by following that advise literally, but ask Dobby next time to knit socks of the same colour.
Or just strangle him. Wait a minute.
Green with silver moons?
SLYTHERIN colours?!
ON POTTER?!
I don't think Dobby's serving breakfast tomorrow.
Disclaimer: I dearly wish Severus, Harry, Draco &tc &tc were mine. But no. Alas.
~~
Chapter One Harry's room.
Oh Merlin.
This can't be true.
Not Potter's room! Why? WHY?! What have I done to deserve this?
Yes, I know what I have done. Please don't recall it.
It was childish to give Malfoy that potion so he could poison Potter. All right. And yes, if you really want to know the truth, I loathe myself for it.
But STILL! Why on bloody Middle-Earth did Minerva have to send me *here* with that sodding spell of hers?
. . .
Did I just think Middle-Earth?
I should quit reading Lord of the Rings.
And why does Potter have me in his dorm, anyway? I feel very offended.
And embarassed, if you care to know.
The poster I'm in. . .
I don't take pleasure in being shown cursed by Potter senior. And especially not by a curse that makes one's hair green.
Except that . . . dreadful poster, this isn't even such a punishment.
It's just boring.
Potter does nothing but stare at his Transfiguration homework for the last twenty minutes. He doesn't have to make clear to me that 'empty' is written on his cranium - I've been trying to tell him that for the last five years.
Ah, finally! He moves!
Oh no. He cannot - he isn't -
He is. Undressing himself.
Oh well. Who gives a damn anyway.
White knickers? Huge white knickers? He has even less taste than I had expected.
And he should put on his glasses when he grabs his socks. One being red with gold stars and the other green with silver moons - the only thing missing is MADE BY DOBBY in scarlet capitals.
Potter, I know miss Dominant Know-it-all makes you love the little brats to death, and however you would please me by following that advise literally, but ask Dobby next time to knit socks of the same colour.
Or just strangle him. Wait a minute.
Green with silver moons?
SLYTHERIN colours?!
ON POTTER?!
I don't think Dobby's serving breakfast tomorrow.