A/N: I don't own a thing!
Severus Snape's Secret Life
"Headmaster, I am sorry for the inconvenience, but is it possible for someone to cover my rounds over this weekend?" Severus Snape was sitting in Headmaster Dumbledore's office on an early Friday evening in November. He had big plans this weekend, but, in his haste, he had forgotten about his patrol duties.
Dumbledore looked over the frame of his half-moon glasses and replied, "Most certainly Severus. You ought to take the weekend off. I am sure we can find someone to do your patrol. Now, where is it you are going?"
Snape paused for a moment. "I am going to a potions masters convention in Paris. I leave tonight, and come back late Sunday night." There. That certainly wasn't the truth, but it would do.
"Well, you go and have a good time. I shall see you Monday." Snape took that as his dismissal. He stood, and swept out of sight."Yo, yo, yo listen up yall, this is DJ Grease here! Everybody ready to get there party on?" The crowd on the dance floor cheered. "Alright! Let's get this party star-ted! Whoo Hoo!" The DJ turned on a premade disc of popular music, and jumped out of the DJ booth for a minute.
"Severus Snape? Is there a Severus Snape here? Telephone!" The barman shouted out to the crowd, not realizing that the man he was looking for was right behind him.
"Right here." DJ Grease took the telephone. "Severus Snape speaking." He listened for a moment. "Alright. That's fine. Good bye." He hung up. When he turned around he almost bumped into a blond headed girl in an impossibly short skirt, a leopard print latex shirt and 5 inch spike heels. She smiled coyly at him and said, "Care to dance?"
He smirked. "It would be my pleasure."
It was dark, and the air was filled with cigarette smoke. The strobe lights flashed all different colors of the rainbow. The bass of the music shook the walls. The dance floor was over crowded by, hot, sweaty bodies, rubbing against each other. Severus Snape's hands were waving above his head, or touching the body of his dance partner. They ground against one another, and sung the lyrics of the song as loud as possible. They were both as drunk as could be. Snape pulled his partner off of the dance floor and toward the bar. "Gimme a sot 'a vodkah' pleashe'" The bartender slid a shot glass of vodka toward him. When it reached snape, he drew a lighter out of his pocket and lit it on fire. The amused bartender watched as he picked up the glass, stared at the flame for a moment, and tossed it back.
"Ah Shit! It hurts! Ah, fuck." The bartender had seen it all before. Some drunken idiot tried to toss back something like that, and ended up burning themselves. It was always hilarious.
Snape stumbled around for a moment, and then slumped into a chair. "Barshtendersh? Gimme a beersh." The bartender tossed him a beer, but Snape was too late. Some big guy with a tattoo and a leather jacket grabbed the beer before Snape had even had the chance to grab it.
"Heysh! Thash my beersh! Give et backsh! Snape tried to haul back and hit the bikerdude, but missed and hit the brick wall behind him. "I don't think so slime ball, its mine now. Why don't you get outta here?"
"Noes! I want my beersh backsh!" Once again, he hauled back and aimed a punch at the biker, but this time, he hit him straight in the face. The biker was enraged. "That's it! Slime ball, you're going down!" He rushed over and tackled Snape to the ground. He continually hit and kicked Snape until security came. One man dragged the biker off, and the other picked up Snape by the back of his jacket, and dragged him into the back alley. He then proceeded to throw Snape out of the club. "And stay out!" There, for the next several hours, until he was sober enough to apperate back to Hogwarts, he lay there in the mud.
"So, Severus, did you have a good weekend?"
"Yes Head master. I most certainly did." There was no need to inform the Headmaster that on Severus Snape's off weekends he was a club hopper with the alias 'DJ Grease'.