Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Let me see, Filtch!Snape and most of what's written about him along with a couple of other things this chapter, I'm sure can be attributed to my lovely beta: timydamonkey
Chapter 2
Snape dropped his wand in horror.
…and armed himself with his odor eater.
"If you were really me," Snape replied, "you wouldn't wear that awful cologne."
Snape shared an exasperated look with Snape and then the two of them turned to Snape and replied, "It's not cologne."
Snape passed out.
When Snape woke up, he was immediately faced with the disgusting odor of the yellow teeth of Snape.
Snape resolved to brush and whiten his teeth several times a day. His mouth was in quite a state of disrepair perhaps, Snape thought while reaching for his bottle of rubbing alcohol; he could just clean it up a little.
However, Snape's face retreated, and Snape offered his hand, which was clean and smelled quite pleasantly like lemons.
Snape took Snape's hand and was pulled to his feet, his brain still slightly fuzzy from his moments spent unconscious.
Snape found himself looking between Snape and Snape.
"Snape," Snape began. "This is a horrible situation—"
"I agree entirely," Snape replied. "I've been neglecting my own personal hygiene while cleaning. I have become that which I hate most!"
"Black?" Snape asked, confused, sharing a look with Snape who also looked confused.
"No," Snape barked. "Unclean, smelly... no wonder my nose has been tingling so!"
"Yes!" Snape exclaimed. "My nose has been tingling as well! Perhaps tending to my own personal hygiene shall lessen it!"
"No!" Snape interrupted. "I have something to tell myself! It is of the utmost importance, us!"
Snape raised one eyebrow and stared at Snape like he was crazy, for verily, it was a distinct possibility. Snape shook his head and told Snape, "You'll just have to excuse him. He insists that we all are the same Snape."
"I have been speaking with myself," Snape declared to Snape and Snape, "and I have reason to believe," Snape told Snape, "that our nose has become radioactive."
"Radioactive?" Snape demanded, while Snape asked, "Our nose?"
Snape quickly looked both ways before replying secretively, "You are aware that duplicity has two meanings."
"What Snape is trying to say," Snape told Snape, with a withering glance to Snape, "is that there are more Snapes than us three."
"More?" Snape demanded, looking horrified at the thought of many smelly, unclean Snapes wandering the planet spreading their funk-defied stank everywhere.
"Yes, there are many, many more Snapes wandering about," Snape replied. "We're all living out our dreams since we aren't all required at the school… though some Snapes have remained at Hogwarts."
"How have they remained at Hogwarts?" Snape demanded. "Surely I would have noticed."
Snape was caught off guard; he pulled his hands up wielding a cleaning mop like a staff.
"Severus!" cried Dumbledore. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Ah, Albus," said Snape, "I was merely working on my flying skills... for... the Dark Lord!"
"Ah!" said Dumbledore cheerily and moved along on his merry way.
Snape glanced around the corridor and, upon seeing nobody, shrunk into the shadows and wielded it; the thing that kept him sane, that kept a part of him separate from one bitter old man to another.
The mask slid into place.
He was once again... Argus Filch!
Cackling at his multiplication skills, Professor Caretaker Severus "Argus Filch" Snape continued down the hall, cleaning and assigning detentions to horny teenagers.
"Nay, I say to you!" Snape did say. "For I am a master at duplicity, and this does not vary from me to me. I am undetectable, even to myself."
Snape was glad indeed that he did not suffer from the same mental disorder as this Snape… But unfortunately, he did suffer from the same lack of hygiene.
"You sound severely unhinged, Snape," Snape told Snape. "I wish you would stop talking about yourself in the plural."
"I am in the plural," Snape declared.
"I am far more interested in these alleged Snapes than in your petty grievances," Snape told Snape haughtily. "I demand to know where these other Snapes are."
"Well," Snape replied thoughtfully. "There are us. And there are about four Snapes on the Hogwarts grounds, including you—"
"Four?" Snape demanded, looking shocked; he couldn't believe he would have missed three other horribly hygiene-defunct men running around. Surely Snape would have attempted to clean them.
Surely, his nose would have detected the foul B.O. that he seemed to possess.
Snape nodded solemnly to Snape, who was still horrified at the thought that Snapes were polluting Hogwarts, and said, "I am many."
"Where are these other Snapes?" Snape demanded. "How could I have not detected them?"
"Well…" Snape said thoughtfully, rubbing his malodorous chin.
Severus Snape lived in a tree…
House…
It wasn't for lack of trying to get a proper hut in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. But for some reason, Snape's employers felt that he would be better served with a tree house.
Snape respectfully agreed…
To cut them off from his shipment of goods.
Snape was a smuggler, damnit! He didn't have time for greedy people trying to keep him from shipping illegal artifacts. No time at all!
Nay I say to you, Snape had things to steal and sell for four times their worth on the black market.
And he was damn good at it too.
Snape had found his niche as an independent buyer and seller of illegal/questionable goods. Snape enjoyed living on the darker side of society and enjoyed having enough money to buy himself out of trouble — considering he kept his full profit and not just a percentage — should anyone ever find his tree house.
As it were, Snape was not likely to be found by anyone, excluding his partners in trade.
Snape reached for his illegal, singing, cursed, Chinese teapot worth about three fourths of a million galleons and set it to boil on his one of a kind, golden, spelled-to-make-everything-taste-wonderful stove.
As the water in the teapot began heating up, he reached for a bottle of his contraband Dragonsbreath Vodka (illegal in most countries, only twenty-five bottles made a year — most of which Snape probably had in his possession); there was nothing like a bit of Earl Grey and vodka just before a big job.
Indeed, Snape had an important job tonight. Tonight, Snape had some illegal (to mermaids!) goods to receive and deliver. The shipment should be arriving soon…
The teapot began singing.
Snape cursed its timing… he was having an inner monologue here, damnit! Snape removed the teapot and reached for his bootleg Earl Grey.
The teapot had driven its previous owner insane… which drove the price of it up depending on which circle the product was presented in.
Yes, Snape was an expert in smuggling; he knew the ins and outs of the business, and knew just how to raise a price to the unreasonable level and get no haggling.
But Snape didn't smuggle for the money, nay, I say to you! He smuggled because it made all of his wasted years as a teacher seem as though they were worth something.
Snape's ability to glare and intimidate were very useful in the trade of smuggling… say nothing of his skills in multiplication.
The dumbwaiter situated in the trunk of the tree suddenly dinged and rose up to his tree house. The shipment to the mermaid colony was here.
Snape opened the dumbwaiter and pulled out a heavy box, and opened it.
The usual shipment… but wait!
No, it couldn't be! But it was!
Melt Your Fingers Off brand cleaner! Banned in fifteen countries for high acidity levels, worth almost nothing, unless pitching to the proper crowd: normally, American mobsters looking for a creative way to kill enemies. This cleaner would clean anything, and failing that, it would melt the dirty substance completely.
Snape's heart skipped a beat.
This, Snape would keep for himself.
Placing the cleaner aside, Snape reclosed the box and stood, grabbing his balaclava. He had a shipment to make.
