Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape, Minerva McGonnagall or any other
characters in this fic, they are owned by JK Rowling. I also do not own
Ford Prefect, though sometimes I wish I did, I think we can have a lot of
fun together. I do not own a digital watch, or the coast of Norway, though
I wouldn't mind having either. I don't own anything. I have no assets so
call off the lawyers.
For Janerus, on her Birthday.
A/N: Sorry, Severus' Character is kind of a cross between Ford Prefect and Prof. Snape. Minerva also reminds me of Ford Prefect. Maybe I should just write a fic about Ford Prefect. I also apologise for Hagrid, and his way of speech. Does not contain digital watches or the coast of Norway.
Professor Snape was glaring broodingly at his desk, contemplating another year gone. Damn he was getting old. His black hair wasn't nearly as black as it used to be. Luckily he knew a good potion for dying the hair black. Luckily he had the address of a muggle shop that sold black hair dye. He never liked concocting black hair dye potions. McGonagall learnt to know the smell of it, wafting up from the dungeons, and would always come down to tease him. She didn't worry about dying her hair. Everyone knew she was old, very old.
Light glimmered through the low clouds onto the snow-covered ground, signalling the dawn of another long, tiresome day full of ignorant dunderheads who couldn't tell Polyjuice from Veritaserum. He would like to use some of that Veritaserum on a couple of students, that would provide some entertainment, a special treat.
He had to face the day sometime, preferably before it ended. He picked him self up and stalked up the corridor to the Great Hall for breakfast. He entered the hall and enjoyed the hush which went before him and the whisperings of contempt which followed him. Why he enjoyed it he didn't know. He just knew that he enjoyed it. Albus was wearing a wider grin than usual. So he had remembered, how very annoying. Albus said nothing, but kept smiling, Snape said nothing. At least I'm not as old as you, he thought. Minerva entered the hall full of purpose. 'Happy Birthday' she grinned. She knew this annoyed him greatly, and did it every year. She would have stopped after Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup and he finally shut up about how crap Gryffindor was, but she enjoyed it so very much.
Professor Snape glared broodingly at his toast, so, another year gone. He didn't need Minerva to rub it in. He hated birthdays. Well, he thought, suppose I'd better eat this toast. The toast was cold, which annoyed him greatly. All he needed now was a great big birthday cake and all of Hogwarts to sing him 'Happy Birthday' to succeed in making this the worst day he could remember, (except perhaps that time in the forest with that Hufflepuff sixth year, or when stupid Sirius and James tried to kill him, or when Madam Pomfrey suspected him of sending her anonymous love letters, or when Madam Pomfrey suspected him of sending her anonymous hate letters - no, that was a very good day).
He looked up from his toast and saw Albus, still wearing that inane grin. He moved his eyes from Albus' face in disgust and was soon preoccupied, glaring at random students who happened to get in the way of his wandering eyes. This school was the place he really felt at home. This was the place where he lived and worked. This was the only place he could glare at students for no apparent reason and get away with it.
The potions dungeon was dark, cold and quiet. Just as he liked it. Soon mindless students would fill the room with noise and clatter. He could hear them coming. Out of the great hall, down the stone steps and into the dungeon corridors. They came in, Weasely, Granger and Potter. How typical, arriving on time just so he didn't have an excuse to yell at them. They all crowded into the dungeon classroom, over the general noise he heard three distinct words: 'Happy Birthday Professor' It was Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Damn them. Then there was a general whispering, where the word 'birthday' was used a lot, which displeased him greatly. 'Finnigan, detention and twenty points from Gryffindor' he said composedly. The room went silent. Good, he thought, nothing like taking off house points to control a class and start the day. 'What?!' said Seamus in disbelief. 'For saying 'happy birthday'?' 'Ten more points from Gryffindor, and it'll be fifty if you say it again.'
The class went smoothly after that. There was an air of tension and confusion about the class, but he didn't care. Let them be tense and confused. As soon as they were out of the classroom door they all started talking at once. 'Why didn't he like you saying 'happy birthday'?' 'Is it really his birthday?' 'How do you know?' 'Something McGonagall said.' 'Thirty points. Thirty!'
Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad day after all, thought Severus.
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For Janerus, on her Birthday.
A/N: Sorry, Severus' Character is kind of a cross between Ford Prefect and Prof. Snape. Minerva also reminds me of Ford Prefect. Maybe I should just write a fic about Ford Prefect. I also apologise for Hagrid, and his way of speech. Does not contain digital watches or the coast of Norway.
Professor Snape was glaring broodingly at his desk, contemplating another year gone. Damn he was getting old. His black hair wasn't nearly as black as it used to be. Luckily he knew a good potion for dying the hair black. Luckily he had the address of a muggle shop that sold black hair dye. He never liked concocting black hair dye potions. McGonagall learnt to know the smell of it, wafting up from the dungeons, and would always come down to tease him. She didn't worry about dying her hair. Everyone knew she was old, very old.
Light glimmered through the low clouds onto the snow-covered ground, signalling the dawn of another long, tiresome day full of ignorant dunderheads who couldn't tell Polyjuice from Veritaserum. He would like to use some of that Veritaserum on a couple of students, that would provide some entertainment, a special treat.
He had to face the day sometime, preferably before it ended. He picked him self up and stalked up the corridor to the Great Hall for breakfast. He entered the hall and enjoyed the hush which went before him and the whisperings of contempt which followed him. Why he enjoyed it he didn't know. He just knew that he enjoyed it. Albus was wearing a wider grin than usual. So he had remembered, how very annoying. Albus said nothing, but kept smiling, Snape said nothing. At least I'm not as old as you, he thought. Minerva entered the hall full of purpose. 'Happy Birthday' she grinned. She knew this annoyed him greatly, and did it every year. She would have stopped after Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup and he finally shut up about how crap Gryffindor was, but she enjoyed it so very much.
Professor Snape glared broodingly at his toast, so, another year gone. He didn't need Minerva to rub it in. He hated birthdays. Well, he thought, suppose I'd better eat this toast. The toast was cold, which annoyed him greatly. All he needed now was a great big birthday cake and all of Hogwarts to sing him 'Happy Birthday' to succeed in making this the worst day he could remember, (except perhaps that time in the forest with that Hufflepuff sixth year, or when stupid Sirius and James tried to kill him, or when Madam Pomfrey suspected him of sending her anonymous love letters, or when Madam Pomfrey suspected him of sending her anonymous hate letters - no, that was a very good day).
He looked up from his toast and saw Albus, still wearing that inane grin. He moved his eyes from Albus' face in disgust and was soon preoccupied, glaring at random students who happened to get in the way of his wandering eyes. This school was the place he really felt at home. This was the place where he lived and worked. This was the only place he could glare at students for no apparent reason and get away with it.
The potions dungeon was dark, cold and quiet. Just as he liked it. Soon mindless students would fill the room with noise and clatter. He could hear them coming. Out of the great hall, down the stone steps and into the dungeon corridors. They came in, Weasely, Granger and Potter. How typical, arriving on time just so he didn't have an excuse to yell at them. They all crowded into the dungeon classroom, over the general noise he heard three distinct words: 'Happy Birthday Professor' It was Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Damn them. Then there was a general whispering, where the word 'birthday' was used a lot, which displeased him greatly. 'Finnigan, detention and twenty points from Gryffindor' he said composedly. The room went silent. Good, he thought, nothing like taking off house points to control a class and start the day. 'What?!' said Seamus in disbelief. 'For saying 'happy birthday'?' 'Ten more points from Gryffindor, and it'll be fifty if you say it again.'
The class went smoothly after that. There was an air of tension and confusion about the class, but he didn't care. Let them be tense and confused. As soon as they were out of the classroom door they all started talking at once. 'Why didn't he like you saying 'happy birthday'?' 'Is it really his birthday?' 'How do you know?' 'Something McGonagall said.' 'Thirty points. Thirty!'
Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad day after all, thought Severus.
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