21/12/08
Apologies for the extremely long time taken to update this story, it is actually hard to believe it has taken so long. But I guess I've been busy at school, coursework, GCSE and stuff.
Get this right, formerly B grade student is now getting straight A's and A*'s.
So I'm afraid I feel like I am neglecting Severus, and Minerva and Ginny in my other stories. But I promise I will try and update all of them soon. I've broken up for the holidays now, although I'm getting a puppy tomorrow, she'll need lots of attention...and it's Christmas (YAY!)

15/02/09
Er...ok...it is now February and I still haven't finished the 4th page. I am sooooooooooo sorry. I began reading Twilight, and then I felt compelled to read New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn (twice)...and...I hate to say it but I've fallen in love. Don't get me wrong, I haven't read them nearly as much as the Harry Potter books but...I've only had them for a few months it is just making me distracted, but I PROMISE. I shall now focus all my attention on Severus.

2/03/09
I'm run out of excuses. I am just appalled with myself. But I shall try and make this chapter to its very highest possible quality (given the shamefully bad author writing it) and update as soon as I can. You can't possibly judge me any harsher than I judge myself.

11/05/09
this is getting ridiculous.

When the world is against you (you might as well just give up.)

Wednesday 12th September

Private Bedroom quarters

6:30 am

I hate Wednesdays. I know it would seem like an odd day to hate, but I detest it with a passion. I understand why people strongly dislike Mondays, because it signals the beginning of one long, monotonous week of utter twaddle and insanity. However, consider the day Wednesday objectively for a second. It is neither the beginning of a week, or the end. There is nothing special about this day. Nothing remarkable to look forwards to. I suppose if you were a glass-half-full kind of person, you might also argue that there is nothing to particularly dread on such a day. Fortunately, I am no such person.

Now, having judged this day as dispassionately as possible (this is incredibly dispassionately for me, as I tend to care little about a lot, and care a lot about little) please stand in my shoes, just for a moment. I have a pattern on a Wednesday (every Wednesday, for the last 10 god-forsaken, Gryffindor-hating, Dumbledore-avoiding, Sinistra-goading years.) It isn't exactly a fun pattern. My day will start promptly at 5am with Peeves appearing beside my pillow, blowing raspberries in my ear. Shooting sparks out of my wand and growling threateningly will eventually succeed in scaring him away, unless he is especially bored, but if he has spent most of the night torturing wandering first years and Filch, then a simple glare will suffice in scaring him off. Last night luckily fell into the latter category (I only assume because it is still early days and the first years are still wary of Peeves) but it doesn't end here. Within a few minutes of that wretched poltergeist disappearing and me returning to my regrettably insubstantial slumber, The Bloody Barren emerges through my closed door, to apologize profusely for being unable to prevent Peeves from bothering me. It is never discussed, but it is in my unfathomable knowledge that he will be trying desperately to woo 'Fair Lady Helena' of Ravenclaw, though why I do not know. It is linked with his death, I believe. I completely comprehend why she rejects his advances each time; he is a mass of blood and chains for the love of Christ! I wonder how he died. It sounds painful, and I'm sure I could entertain a few fancies of Potter being in the same situation as he was, it would please me immensely, I'm sure.

7:15am

Ahem. Sorry, I was away in a dream world for a while there. Potter was dead.

7:17am

Dumbledore wasn't making me write in a diary.

7:19am

I was king of Sarcasmia.

7:20am

Sinistra was my silent Queen of Sarcasmia. (She was mute...I couldn't stand her nattering and criticising the way my crown clashed with my gold shoes.)

7:21am

It was nice.

7:22am

Her being mute, I mean. Not her being my Queen.
Why in the name of Salazar was she my Queen anyway? Why was I dreaming of her? Why was Lucius Malfoy dressed up as a house elf, whilst Dobby ordered him about and hurled insults at him? Who the hell is that knocking on the door?

These are the questions that haunt me!

7:23am

It's honestly not worth answering the door.

7:24am

Good Lord! Take the hint! I'm not seeing you. Whoever you are!

7:25am

They still haven't gone. Give me a second, diary, I'll go see who the suicidal imbecile that is disturbing me before I've even had my morning coffee is, possibly kill them, and I'll be back within seconds, giving me just enough time to bid you farewell before being taken straight to the dampest, dingiest, foulest cell in Azkaban.

Staff room

8:03am

*sigh* It was Daphne Greengrass. I couldn't very well kill one of own student, now could I? Besides not only am I rather fond of her, she is a very bright girl...a very Slytherin girl (far more so than, say, Parkinson who is, I am quite certain, a descendant of the great moronic pug-man of Hertfordshire, year 1235) but she actually had a reason for troubling. I do loathe it when they have legitimate excuses. It makes me seem like the bad guy when I force them to scrub toilets or clean out cauldrons. Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually enjoy being the guy everyone hates, I just quietly tolerate it. The way a man might tolerate gillywater if it were to be followed with firewhisky. (Being hated is the gillywater in this scenario, with firewhisky being my ability to dish out detention whenever I so choose.)
Anyway, Greengrass's reason.
It would appear Nott got into a disagreement with Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom Daphne claims 'attempted and failed to launch a physical assault on Theo' but I rather think it must've been more of case of Crabbe and Goyle 'attempted to grunt menacingly and raise their fists at the same time...ultimately ending in a predicted-by-all failure.')
Cutting a long story short; before the second punch landed, they were both flat out on the floor, unconscious.

I am supposed to be down there right now sorting it all out.

8:05am

As you can quite clearly see, I'm not. Hogwarts is a learning experience and Crabbe and Goyle have got to learn that swinging out at little brats is funny for all (apart from the aforementioned beaten-up brats-but they have no sense of humour! Neither do the rest of the staff, apart from Argus and I. We find it hilarious, I once actually saw him crack a smile) but attacking a fellow Slytherin, especially one who is much, MUCH cleverer than them, and let's face the facts - even the bloody first years qualify for that, is never going to work out well for them.

8:45am

I was teaching them a lesson. Honestly, i'm not just being lazy and uncaring towards them, I really value their well being and-

8:50am

Sorry for my sudden departure, but the utter twit Lockhart put two sugars and about half a gallon of milk in my coffee. The sugarless, black coffee I asked for.

Stupid moronic dunderhead.

9:15am

Gah. I got cornered by Madame Pomfrey on my way to the first lesson (third year Ravenclaws and Slytherins....a good class.) Apparently Crabbe is suffering some mild disorientation and she will be letting him back into classes tomorrow, but will be keeping an eye on him for the rest of the week. The tone in which she told me this suggested both boredom at the topic, and a slightly self-sacrificial tone when she said he'd be staying there with her an extra day. Perhaps she ought not to have taken on the position of matron if she cannot treat each individual fairly.

9:16am

Perhaps I should not have taken on my position if I cannot treat every student fairly. I will work on that.

Oh wait, I don't care.

Never mind.

Unfortunately, her wittering on and my inability to tell her to shut up and go away (she's having to spend a whole day with Crabbe. I possess a basic level of compassion) meant that I was late for my first class. The only class of today I actually like.

10:15am

That was terrible.

Three burns. Two dissolved cauldrons. Some girl nearly swallowed a bat ear.

I don't think it is possible to have a worse lesson.

11:16m

I guess I was mistaken. A lesson with the Weasley twins is actually something reminiscent of hell. Huh. I guess I'm meeting my fate early.

11:19am

I'm working every single lesson today, you know. It is awful. And right now, in MY spare time, I have to go find Daphne and Theodore and find out just what in blazes happened.

(I haven't had a change of heart, Dumbledore just skipped into my office and requested that I seek out the students involved in the 'ruckus' last night and investigate. There is no need to report back to him. Just note it down in my diary which he will be looking through on Friday evening.)

11:19 ½ am

I knew the old sod was inquisitive, but this is an invasion of privacy. Sometimes i really detest that man.

That's right, Albus, I'm talking to you!

11:20am

Also, why were you skipping Albus? Should you be reading this, which I'm sure you are, I feel obliged to say that no self-respecting man skips. No skipping is allowed. Ever.

My stupid classroom. With the stupid desk and the stupid chair.
11:31am

Well, that took up practically my entire break time, and will likely to carry on through most of my lunchtime. It seems that rather than just let me hear one or two sides of the story, every student in Slytherin and a few in other houses wished to put their two knuts in.

11:33am

Would you like a brief summary of what happened, diary? I've got nothing else to do...I'm just educating young minds which will hopefully lead our country into greater greatness.

All of the opinions varied, but the events and the order in which they proceeded is something that the entire of Slytherin agreed on.

Sitting in the sofa and chairs tucked away in the corner of the room sat Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson. (It is easy to tell the hierarchy of the House simply by watching where people sit. Malfoy obviously has the better chair, nearest to the fire, with everyone else seated around him. However, Daphne and Theodore sit together on another sofa that they have moved slightly, allowing them to still sit near to people like Malfoy or Blaise Zabini when he is there, but they can also chat and mingle with other students. They attempt to separate themselves from certain stupider, more prejudiced members of the group i.e. Parkinson. I'm sure you can read as much into that as I can.)

11:33 ½ am

Well maybe not quite as much as I. You are, after all, a notebook.

...

And I am aware of that fact.

11:34am

Oh! I should be teaching!
THAT'S why they're glaring at me with so much more hatred than usual. Well, the Gryffindors always glare at me. But the Hufflepuffs are too terrified.

11:40am

A simple love potion. Nothing too strong because I don't like 20 newt level students prancing about with a love potion. But they have studied it for a few lessons, and they recently did an essay on it. I am sure everything will go smoothly.

...

Right. If working at Hogwarts has taught me anything (this is unlikely. Based on teachers like Auriga I sincerely doubt even the students have gained any proper knowledge.) it is that nothing ever goes without a hitch. If it appears to be going well, you can guarantee that someone (cough Auriga cough) will have overlooked something.

11:43am

Crawley has just dropped brass scales. On his foot. He is currently hopping around swearing horrendously and getting very red in the face whilst his fellow students sit around him laughing. It is rather amusing. Especially since he bumped into his table and knocked boiling water all over his hand. I should really send him down to Madame Pomfrey. But she is so busy, it would be truly unfair to burden her with another student.
Detention, I think Mr Crawley, for swearing.

...

"Sir. Me 'ands and me foo' cane like 'ell. Oh my days, you gotta send me down to the hos-wing or summit, innit sir."

...

...

...

...

WHAT???

...

...

WHAT DID HE SAY?

...

...

...

"Mr Crawley, I am sure you are attempting to converse in a human tongue, but you are not successful in your endeavours. I suggest you invest in a dictionary and study the English language. Perhaps expand your vocabulary to words more profound and intelligent than expletives. If you were unable to follow me so far, I can perhaps bring in an ape to all future lessons with you. Maybe you can have a proper chin-wag with him. Your IQ must be within decimal-digits of each other. Not that I am implying for a moment that your IQ is actually any higher than a figure. The ape however might be. You see, i'm sure the ape would not be so think as to swear loudly in the presence of a teacher. Detention for a week, I think. Don't you agree Mr. Crawley?"

"You havin' a bubble, sir? Wot. Can't do that, y'know. I'm proper hurt, blood. I'll get me dad, yeah, he's proper scary, no, yeah, he'll teach you."

...

...

...

He's trying to speak to me. I know it.

...

....

What. Do. You. Want. From. Me. Strangely. Talking. 'Human'?

11:45am

Mr Crawley just stormed out of the classroom, muttering something. God be damned if I know what. I'm sure I heard him utter sounds that could be a crude interpretation of 'my father' but it was all too garbled to truly hear. Honestly, though, threatening me with his Dad? Me? Good lord, the idiot. He's worse than Malfoy, which reminds me, Malfoy was semi-central to the story I've been trying to tell you for the past hour or so.

A brief relation of the fight:

Nott and Greengrass were chatting about which subjects they were considering for their third year. Apparently Greengrass is toying with the idea of Arithmancy. As competent a teacher as Vivian Vector admittedly is (far better than her friend Auriga anyway) I don't think anything mathematical is going to work out well for Daphne. Nott apparently agreed with me, and was working out ways to phrase it delicately, when Parkinson and Bulstrode marched in and plonked themselves down on the surrounding sofas, with Pansy sitting practically on Blaise's lap.
Zabini, disgusted, shook her off and walked off muttering something about an essay. Rather than feel even the tiniest bit humiliated that she had been so obviously and offensively rebuked in front of her classmates, Pansy quickly sat up and perched herself on the arm of Draco's chair.

Draco: "You know there are plenty of seats in the common room, Pansy"
Pansy: (cooing) " I know...but I want to be close to you, Drakey"

It was at that point that Malfoy cringed and Daphne was suddenly overcome with a troublesome cough that although may seem to have been covering a laugh, was actually just an unfortunate coincidence. I think in the end Draco actually pushed Pansy off until she sat with Bulstrode, Crabbe and Goyle.
I hadn't realised that all three of them attempted to sit on the same sofa. It explains why it is always sagging. It also elucidates exactly what my students mean when they refer to "l'ignoble canapé de trois" or "the abhorrent couch of three." I guess it isn't a club after all; I shall have to remember to tell Auriga. She and I spent a good while guessing exactly what it could be when Professors Vector and surprisingly enough McGonagall childishly locked us in one of the caretaker's storage cupboards. That was a very long, uncomfortable four hours. Why do I keep getting reminded of that? In fact, she keeps making unwanted and unanticipated appearances in my thoughts. I think the potion fumes are getting to me.

The love potion fumes.

That means absolutely nothing. NOTHING.

Now...my STORY.

Daphne happened to make some off-hand remark about lessons to Draco. Pansy immediately jumped into the conversation and brought up the fact that for any respectable pure-blood aristocratic lady, school matters hardly mattered because a woman's intelligence isn't measured in grades but in the amount of beautiful robes she wears and eligible bachelors than encircle her. Naturally Daphne was quick to make a rather obvious comment, as well as a few other quips that perhaps one might not expect. Pansy for some reason took offence to being referred to as a 'backside-of–a-cow-faced ignoramus who would no sooner have any boy-blind, deformed or otherwise attracted to her than have one sensible thought fly through her inconceivably empty brain' and threw her butterbeer over Daphne. This would have escalated into an all-mighty to-the-death cat-fight, which would have only ended up with Daphne receiving a permanently black mark next to her name, forever associated with the Slytherin-Common-Room-Massacres, if Draco had not greatly offended Pansy at that moment by muttering 'Damn' whilst staring at Daphne's beverage-drenched chest. As opposed to getting incensed at his friends blatant testosterone-fuelled comment directed at his girlfriend, Theo simply nodded wisely and said "yeah...I know."

This could all have ended happily, if Crabbe and Goyle hadn't also decided to join in with admiring Miss Greengrass's...ah...assets. They did so with less taste than Mr. Malfoy (shocking to believe, I know) and at their remarks, Nott decided to act. Mostly my giving them the finger whilst scorching their tongues with fire-flames-to teach them not to say such 'horrid things whilst ladies are present.' As you would expect the two idiotic idiots lashed out as they always did. And...Well...I've already told you how it ends.

Staff room

12:35pm

Oh sweet merciful baby Jesus. I know I haven't prayed to you in a while, but this has reaffirmed my belief in you. I promise, the very next chance I get, I'll go to church.

Oh that's a lie. And I know it. What's more you know it. And I know you know I know you know it.

But I will put a few galleons into a charity collection box the very next time I see one, I swear,

Well, maybe not galleons, but definitely one.

Well, one sickle.

A few Knuts.

Ok, I'll put in an IOU 1 knut. It's not much, but i'm on a teacher's salary. My liquor doesn't buy itself!

But, please don't feel that my lack of generosity in regards to my wallet in any way demonstrate lack of gratitude towards this miracle.

What miracle?

School is closed for the rest of today. Apparently some kind of demonic creature, a vampire or something, from the forest entered the school premises. We've got ministry officials and Aurors in here and everything. It's a riot. I love it.

Admittedly imagining all the paperwork I'll have to fill in is dampening my spirits slightly. But not even that can take away from this glorious day.

It's a good time to be alive.

(its awful, the last bit i mean. I know it isn't up to par, but this chapter has been going on for such a ridiculously long time, i had to post something! So I will spread this one long chapter over 2, just so i have something to post. I am really sorry for the delay, although i suppose anybody who read this originally has given up on me now. I am really really apologetic. )