4
We skidded to a stop as Snape's classroom came into view. That was the problem—we couldn't see the door. It was surrounded by a thick crowd of girls who were giggling insanely. Ugh—it looked like we weren't the only Snape fans in the school.
"Come on," I growled, and the three of us shoved our way through the crowd until we reached Snape, who was looking paler than usual.
"Hey, Sevvie!" Willowhawk cried.
"Stop. That's all I need—another fan. I had NO idea I was so popular—" Snape whispered shakily. "And DON'T call me 'Sevvie'" he added with menace in his voice.
"Stupid little gits," Gumlick muttered.
"You know, they only like you because of Alan Rickman," Willowhawk informed him.
"Who?" Snape asked blankly.
"Well you DO look extraordinarily like him--" she continued.
I kicked her and she stopped babbling.
"Why don't you just hex them all?" I asked.
Snape stared at me and an enlightened look spread across his gaunt face. "How would you all like to be eggplants for the rest of your lives?" Snape shouted hoarsely to the crowd. They all ran off, squealing in terror.
"Yay!" Gumlick cried.
"Brilliant," Snape whispered to me. "Five points to the—I mean, thank you."
Snape saying 'thank you'? THAT was a moment to remember. Snape must have noticed he was not his usual self because he cleared his throat and said in his usual silky voice, "Now. About your detentions."
His eyes flashed red. Red--?
"What are we going to do?' Gumlick gulped.
"Help me unpack," Snape said simply.
"Huh?" Willowhawk asked blankly.
"Are ALL Muggles this stupid?" Snape sighed exasperatedly, opening up a large black suitcase that was sitting beside his desk. He took out his disgusting jars with nasty green pickled things in them. "You may clean these," Snape said with a malevolent grin.
"Excuse me?" Willowhawk blanched.
Snape's smile widened. "I imagine my pickled potions ingredients got a bit dirty on the fli—er, trip over. You may clean them—without magic!"
"But we aren't wi--" Gumlick started.
"Shurrrup," Willowhawk whispered furiously.
"What was that?" Snape asked suspiciously.
"Nothing," Gumlick said quickly. She didn't want their detentions to get worse—her friends would NOT be amused.
Snape raised his eyebrows. "Indeed," he said, crossing his arms. "Now CLEAN," he ordered. He picked up The Goblet of Fire from the desk and sank into his chair. He put his feet up on the table and began to read.
I twisted a jar open. Ewww, nasty pickled things. I looked around at Gumlick and Willowhawk. Their faces were both a pale green. Later, as we were scrubbing the pickled things and the jars with sponges Gumlick asked timidly, "Professor Snape?"
Snape looked up from his book. "What?" he asked, annoyed.
"Why aren't you at Hogwarts?" Gumlick ventured.
Snape bit his lip. "Ah, that's a very strange story," he murmured.
"Do tell," said Wilowhawk, dropping her sponge.
Snape leaned closer to us. "You must promise not to tell," he breathed.
"We would NEVER betray our darling Sevvie—er, Professor Snape!" I cried. Willowhawk and Gumlick nodded vigorously.
"Well—don't freak out or I might kill you—this starts with the fact that I am a vampire," Snape whispered.
"I TOLD you, Gumlick!" I cried gleefully.
"SHUT UP," Gumlick muttered.
Willowhawk glared at us and we shut up. Snape explained to us about the I- killed-Potter incident. We cheered.
"Haha! Draco can finally be the main character!" Gumlick hooted.
"You're not mad?" Snape asked blankly.
"Of course not, we're Slytherin supporters all the way!" Willowhawk informed him. "You have to go back!"
"No WAY—I bet they've got the dementors looking for me," Snape said worriedly. "I'm undercover—staying at a Muggle hotel."
"Come stay at MY house!" I cried.
"Er—that's okay," Snape said hurriedly.
"I wonder how the castle's coping without you," Willowhawk murmured.
We skidded to a stop as Snape's classroom came into view. That was the problem—we couldn't see the door. It was surrounded by a thick crowd of girls who were giggling insanely. Ugh—it looked like we weren't the only Snape fans in the school.
"Come on," I growled, and the three of us shoved our way through the crowd until we reached Snape, who was looking paler than usual.
"Hey, Sevvie!" Willowhawk cried.
"Stop. That's all I need—another fan. I had NO idea I was so popular—" Snape whispered shakily. "And DON'T call me 'Sevvie'" he added with menace in his voice.
"Stupid little gits," Gumlick muttered.
"You know, they only like you because of Alan Rickman," Willowhawk informed him.
"Who?" Snape asked blankly.
"Well you DO look extraordinarily like him--" she continued.
I kicked her and she stopped babbling.
"Why don't you just hex them all?" I asked.
Snape stared at me and an enlightened look spread across his gaunt face. "How would you all like to be eggplants for the rest of your lives?" Snape shouted hoarsely to the crowd. They all ran off, squealing in terror.
"Yay!" Gumlick cried.
"Brilliant," Snape whispered to me. "Five points to the—I mean, thank you."
Snape saying 'thank you'? THAT was a moment to remember. Snape must have noticed he was not his usual self because he cleared his throat and said in his usual silky voice, "Now. About your detentions."
His eyes flashed red. Red--?
"What are we going to do?' Gumlick gulped.
"Help me unpack," Snape said simply.
"Huh?" Willowhawk asked blankly.
"Are ALL Muggles this stupid?" Snape sighed exasperatedly, opening up a large black suitcase that was sitting beside his desk. He took out his disgusting jars with nasty green pickled things in them. "You may clean these," Snape said with a malevolent grin.
"Excuse me?" Willowhawk blanched.
Snape's smile widened. "I imagine my pickled potions ingredients got a bit dirty on the fli—er, trip over. You may clean them—without magic!"
"But we aren't wi--" Gumlick started.
"Shurrrup," Willowhawk whispered furiously.
"What was that?" Snape asked suspiciously.
"Nothing," Gumlick said quickly. She didn't want their detentions to get worse—her friends would NOT be amused.
Snape raised his eyebrows. "Indeed," he said, crossing his arms. "Now CLEAN," he ordered. He picked up The Goblet of Fire from the desk and sank into his chair. He put his feet up on the table and began to read.
I twisted a jar open. Ewww, nasty pickled things. I looked around at Gumlick and Willowhawk. Their faces were both a pale green. Later, as we were scrubbing the pickled things and the jars with sponges Gumlick asked timidly, "Professor Snape?"
Snape looked up from his book. "What?" he asked, annoyed.
"Why aren't you at Hogwarts?" Gumlick ventured.
Snape bit his lip. "Ah, that's a very strange story," he murmured.
"Do tell," said Wilowhawk, dropping her sponge.
Snape leaned closer to us. "You must promise not to tell," he breathed.
"We would NEVER betray our darling Sevvie—er, Professor Snape!" I cried. Willowhawk and Gumlick nodded vigorously.
"Well—don't freak out or I might kill you—this starts with the fact that I am a vampire," Snape whispered.
"I TOLD you, Gumlick!" I cried gleefully.
"SHUT UP," Gumlick muttered.
Willowhawk glared at us and we shut up. Snape explained to us about the I- killed-Potter incident. We cheered.
"Haha! Draco can finally be the main character!" Gumlick hooted.
"You're not mad?" Snape asked blankly.
"Of course not, we're Slytherin supporters all the way!" Willowhawk informed him. "You have to go back!"
"No WAY—I bet they've got the dementors looking for me," Snape said worriedly. "I'm undercover—staying at a Muggle hotel."
"Come stay at MY house!" I cried.
"Er—that's okay," Snape said hurriedly.
"I wonder how the castle's coping without you," Willowhawk murmured.