The Worst New Years Present Ever

AN: I saw JK's Happy Birthday Severus Snape today, and had to write a ficcy to commemorate it. Snape's my favorite character to play with (you wouldn't know it from the way I love to torment him). Thank you to my rowdy classmates for giving me the idea of the title (namely, Dave).

Take your hands off me, you senile old fool.

Don't smile at me like that, with those eyes set to 'twinkle' mode. That smile doesn't work on me, remember? I don't care how long you smile at me like that, I'm not going to enjoy this at all.

I'm angry at you for this, Albus. You seriously think that I believed you when you said it was an 'accident'? 'Accident' is what happens when you forget to deduct fifty points from Gryffindor when you catch one sleeping in class. No, what you did was sneaky, underhanded, and almost Slytherin-esque. If I weren't so mad at you, I'd almost be proud.

But I'm mad at you! How could you let it slip to that goddamned knee-high troll of a Charms professor that today was my birthday! You know that Filius Flitwick has this obscene idea that everyone likes to celebrate their birthday, so why – WHY – would you do this to me? Is this some sort of punishment for what I did to Lupin, because I've told you over and over that Draco had figured out the most of it and was going to say something anyway!

Look at this rediculus 'meal' – how in the name of the immortal gods did you find out that I have a weakness for General Tso's chicken? The students are, for the most part, picking at it like its poison – did you really go through all of this trouble for me?

No one's ever… that is, my own mother never… Sigh Why are you being so… nice… to me? I've already agreed to help you and your little Order, so this can't be a bribe. But if it isn't a bribe… what is it?

You're doing it again – that stupid little smile that you give the first years whenever they're a bit timid and shy of you. I'm not a first year anymore, Albus, so stop it at once.

Is it good, you ask? Of course it's good, you should know – the house elves make food better than any five star restaurant. It's utterly and completely divine…

… maybe it is poison? Are you trying to get rid of me already? Are you afraid I'll become a traitor again? What poison is it, how long do I have? Do I have enough time to slowly walk down to the dungeon to get the antidote?

What's this? A present? For me? Why?

Don't be stupid, of course I know what day it is! Why are you giving me a present? Why are – YOU – giving – ME – a present?

… You shouldn't say things like that. If you continue on speaking so nicely to me, I might become used to it. Things like 'nice' are rather addictive, and I'd rather not suffer withdrawal. I've seen what things like 'nice' can do to people like me.

I won't open it. You might as well take it back, whatever it is. There's no use in something laying around, useless, for all eternity in my rooms. Assuming that I don't die of poison first.

… Oh of all the infernal… I'll open it, satisfied? I'll just take off this ribbon, remove the lid, and…

… Oh my. I don't know what to say. I've never gotten something quite like this before. What do I do with it? Is there any particular way I have to care for it?

What do you mean, what's her name? How the hell should I know what her name is?!

… Fine. I'll call her… Reina. And Albus? … Thank you.