Author's Note: Sorry about how long it took to get this up, and I'm afraid it's not particularly interesting. Aur's feeling boring. ;-) As always, thank you all so much for the reviews.
This is for Shell, just 'cause she typed "YES!" when I asked if I should upload it or not. If anything merits a dedication, it's that. :-)
Friday, September 13, 1991
Teacher's Lounge
9:15 A.M.
Ah, Friday the thirteenth. I really do detest Friday the thirteenths. Last time we had one, Snape caught my hair on fire and claimed it was an accident. Accident my foot. I looked an absolute wreck for the next month. And that's quite awful indeed, considering how my hair usually looks in general.
Dammit.
Snape just came in.
Must hide you.
He can't know that I was in his quarters.
Will act casual.
9:26 A.M.
Dammit again.
Stupid man realized that I was in his quarters, as my notebook was, in fact, gone.
Just like a neat freak like him to realize that it wasn't there anymore.
Hmph.
Blasted bastard felt compelled to say, "Auriga, flattered as I am that you've been sneaking into my quarters, I'd advise that you don't do it again. I am known to keep a dangerous potion or two down there, and we wouldn't want you to sprout an extra set of ears, now, would we?"
He threatened me.
The slimy prat threatened me.
I did, however, get to respond with, "Well, Severus, I'm rather flattered with your fascination with me as well. Otherwise you wouldn't really care about reading my diary, now, would you? That can be classified as...stealing, you know. I'm sure Dumbledore would love to hear about it."
Bwahaha.
So now he's sitting across from me, looking moody and irritable.
How very unlike him.
I felt tempted, for a minute, to bring up the piano and the Shakespeare and the circled Sinistra star. God knows that would humiliate the git properly.
. . . But I couldn't.
And I honestly don't know why. Surely he would have done the same thing to me. Milked it for all it was worth.
I swear, there's something wrong with me.
This is insane.
Need coffee.
For self defense at least, if not to drink.
10:01 A.M.
Unexpected as this no doubt is, I'm eternally in debt to Wimmy.
Thanks to him, I've got Severus Snape....dare I think it?...jealous. I'm not entirely sure that that was what it was, but it certainly seemed that way: why else would he stand up, scowling, and glare at the flowers for a minute before exiting the teachers' lounge, muttering under his breath all the while?
And unless I'm much mistaken, he did turn a faint shade of green.
Bwahaha.
Who would have thought that being sent flowers from a mentally ill house elf could be so beneficial?
But it was. Oh, it was.
One of the house elves - the one I scared with the diary episode, I believe - came in and delivered them, eyeing me in fear all the while.
I took them and read the card, which said, quite simply, "For you, Miss."
Now, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who sent them, on account of the fact that the only male being of any kind who is interested in me is a house elf, but I decided to put on a show, just because I was feeling particularly spiteful toward Snape.
"Oh!" I gushed, breathing in a whiff of such a sickly sweet scent that I can still smell it (ugh), "He shouldn't have!"
This seemed to pique Snape's interest, as he leaned over during my little display and narrowed his eyes rather quizzically.
"What are those?" he demanded.
"Flowers, Snape."
(Starry-Eyed Twit: 1, Dungeon Dwelling Moron: 0!)
"I know that they're flowers! Who sent them?"
"Oh," I said, very lightly, "Just a friend. You don't know him."
"And is this...friend sane?"
"Well, he doesn't go stealing diaries, if that's what you mean."
(2 to 0! Go me!)
"You know what I mean, Auriga!"
"Actually, Severus, I'm not quite sure that I do."
And with that, he fixed me with one of his weaker sneers (honestly, the man's losing his touch) and left the teachers' lounge in a huff.
Ah, I do love my life sometimes.
Astronomy Tower
11:02 A.M.
Yay. Have received another 'you starry-eyed failure, I'm so ashamed, how could you do this to me?!' owl from Mum. One would think that being a processor at the most prestigious wizarding school in Britain is at least a tiny achievement, but not to my mother. No siree. The woman will be in utter agony until I find a suitable boyfriend - turned - fiancé - turned - husband. Well, I'm sorry, Mother, but I'm afraid that I scare even freaky men with stutters and severe iguana fetishes. I am, however, leading on a house elf who can clean toilets like nobody's business.
Yes, it is safe to say that I am near-sickeningly accomplished.
. . . Not.
And now the woman's got me in a horrible mood. Her letters have a way of reminding me full-force just how pathetic I am.
And so, for your (you being the notebook, my sole confidant and friend) viewing pleasure, the Why Auriga Sinistra Is Pathetic list:
1. I have no boyfriend, nor have I had one in years; not since Paul, the bloody bastard who cheated on me with a Leaky Cauldron barmaid for three months without my knowing.
Bastard.
Though, I must admit, not to Severus Snape-esque proportions.
2. A house elf is in love with me, and is (quite sadly) the first . . . "person" to have ever sent me flowers. Ever.
3. My mum, the woman who was Head Girl at Hogwarts, was universally expected to become the first female Minister of Magic, and gave it all up to marry a Muggle garbage man (true, he's a university professor now, but still), thinks that I am pathetic.
4. I cried at the end of Gadding With Ghouls.
. . . Oh, sweet stars, I'm depressing myself.
There has to be one positive thing about me. One. I mean, I'm not asking for much. Just a reason to go on living.
Oh, yes.
Right.
Reasons Why Auriga Sinistra Is Not Pathetic:
1. Severus Snape thinks that I am the true love of some dashing wizard, and is now totally, completely, and wholly jealous.
. . . I love my life.
Astronomy Tower
2:10 P.M.
Sat next to Quirrell at lunch today and realized that there is a very strange aroma coming from that turban of his. Ew. Maybe it's a very good thing that my seduction attempt failed. Now no one will ever need to know, besides me and Snape.
. . . Unless he told someone.
Oh, God. What if he told Quirrell about it and now that disgusting excuse for a man (Quirrell, not Snape) thinks I have some sort of . . . thing for him? And what if he can barely keep a straight face when he's around me because the very thought that he would cast a second glance at that frizzy-haired imbecile Auriga Sinistra is simply laughable?!?!! Hell, he might undergo thoroughly unnerving sexual practices with iguanas, but Sinistra?! Ha! Even he wouldn't sink so low!
. . . I hate my life.
2:16 P.M.
Snape wouldn't do that, would he? I mean, sure, he's evil, but is he that evil? Is anyone? I reckon You-Know-Who isn't even that heartless!
. . . Oh, God. He would. I know he would. He's Snape, for God's sake. But Quirrell hasn't looked too maliciously amused around me lately - of course!!! Snape's biding his time! Holding it against me! And then, if I do one thing, one thing to send him over the edge, he'll STRIKE.
Oh, God. Just kill me. Kill me!
I am very, very, very tempted to Avada myself.
2:18 P.M.
No. I can't do it. I can't. I will put the wand down and back away.
I must think of life in all its beautiful splendor. I must focus on what I have to live for. Like . . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Oh, Lord. I'm going to cry.
2:19 P.M.
LOCKHART.
Gilderoy Lockhart.
I'll live for him.
. . . For a man I haven't even met and never will. For a beautiful, godlike man who doesn't give a damn about me because he DOESN'T KNOW I EXIST!!!!
. . .
Oh, hell. I'm killing myself.
2:21 P.M.
Snape.
I'll live for Snape, just to spite him because I know he wants me dead more than anyone else on this Earth. Who knows? Maybe he planned all of this in an elaborate conspiracy to be rid of me, and he'd completely predicted these results?
Well, I'll thwart his evil scheme! Severus Snape, I am one step ahead of you! Bwahaha!
So there. Even if I don't have anything to live for, I will persevere, in the name of Snape!
2:34 P.M.
Well, that was a bit melodramatic.
I think it's a certain time of the month.
. . . Just keep me away from coffee mugs and Gilderoy Lockhart books. I can't be held liable for any damage that may be caused.
Bedroom Quarters
8:25 P.M.
Well, Snape just left.
. . . Not like that.
Honestly.
Just because I happened to write 'bedroom quarters', and I start with 'Snape just left' doesn't mean . . .
Oh. Right. I s'pose I'm arguing with a notebook again.
But anyway, I've rather determined one thing:
He's jealous.
Yes, jealous.
That's the only possible reason. Why else would he burst into my room - okay, so he didn't burst, exactly. Actually, he knocked and everything. But he did sneer and sweep past me once I opened the door like some sort of sexy overgrown bat.
Er.
Minus the 'sexy', of course.
And then he demands, very coldly, "Well, where is he, Auriga?"
To which I had to try very, very hard to refrain from laughing. I mean, why on earth would he think that I had a man in my room? Just because I happened to be muttering absentmindedly to myself (I tend to do that, and also tend to merit scared looks from passersby because of it), he immediately concludes that I'm having some steamy affair and hiding a man in my room.
So I decided to play along a bit.
It was the least I could do, after all, after that terrible Iguana Incident.
Which I will never, ever forget.
Cringe.
"What ever do you mean, Severus?" I responded, but in a pointedly non-convincing sort of way.
"Please, Auriga," he snapped. "Do you expect me to believe that a man would willingly send you flowers, were he not getting . . ." he sneered, "something . . . in return?"
Which, I think, was very insulting. My sparkling company is just enough to ensnare any man! I don't need to sleep with them in order to keep them around! I mean, I'm Auriga Sinistra, Super Seductress, for God's sake!
. . . Or something like that.
Anyway. Back to the unpleasant encounter with Snape.
I'd rather lost my poised manner by about then. I don't think it showed, really, but I may have come off as a bit . . . miffed.
"Get out of here, you revolting bat, or I'll throw another coffee mug at you!"
His left eye twitched involuntarily at that, which I have to admit was quite delightful. It's wonderful, having that kind of power over someone. Who needs the Imperius Curse when you have . . . coffee mugs?
It's a shame You-Know-Who never got ahold of them.
"Only too gladly," he spat, looking rather furious by now. "But let me warn you, Auriga, this man is bound to come to his senses sooner or later. Not everyone puts up with you as well as I do."
And then he turned and swept right out again.
And I know that I should have been insulted by this. I mean, 'this man is bound to come to his senses sooner or later'?!?! I am very, very, very would-be offended.
If it weren't for that last part.
'Not everyone puts up with you as well as I do.'
Of course, it's not exactly a heartfelt sentiment. At all. But - and I honestly don't know why - it seemed to almost imply something more.
Hmm.
Snape's jealous . . . and he apparently cares enough to put up with me in a manner he thinks is 'well'.
Interesting.
Veeeery interesting.