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Professor Snape glared broodingly at his quill in his hand, so another year gone. He had thought about not going to lunch, he couldn't handle Minerva's stupid remarks, or Albus' inane grin. He was pretty hungry now, and he couldn't go to the kitchens to get food. Those house elves didn't like him any more. Just because he kicked one after it knocked over a potion, consequently turning a desk into a depressed flowering shrub that could talk. He hated that desk with a passion now. Everyone would ask if he wasn't at lunch. Then McGonagall would probably 'accidentally' let it slip that it was his birthday, just like he had let it slip that Lupin was a werewolf.
He walked up to the teachers' table in the great hall. Albus, on seeing him, immediately assumed the smile he wore at breakfast. He was right, he couldn't handle it. He turned to walk out in a dignified manner, only to meet Minerva's smiling face.
She swept past him. She enjoyed torturing him. He felt that she was hiding something. He always knew when she was hiding something. But then again she probably wasn't, just acting like she was just to torture him. She assumed her seat and stared expectantly at him. Damn it, he thought, now he had no choice but to sit down for lunch.
Professor Snape was glaring moodily at the roast lamb on his fork, contemplating another year gone when Harry and Ron approached the teacher's table cautiously. They were looking for Hagrid. They hadn't seen him all day and he wasn't in his cabin. They were, for once, making a totally innocent enquiry. Snape glared at them. Harry averted his eyes, as he usually did. 'Professor?' Hermione addressed Minerva. Snape glared at her, she looked the other way. 'Yes?' asked Minerva. 'I was just wondering if you knew where.' she trailed off. Snape was giving her one of his worst looks, and was satisfied with her reaction momentarily before he realised that the general hush which was spreading throughout the Great Hall was not a response to the glare he practiced every potions lesson, and had now unleashed on Hermione. A glittering insect was sweeping towards the teachers' table. His eyesight was failing, if it wasn't he would have jumped up and ran straight out of the Great Hall screaming, all dignity forgotten. By the time Severus recognised Sybil Trelawney it was too late. 'Aaahh, Sybil, what a pleasant surprise.' Said Albus pleasantly. 'I saw myself leaving my solitary luncheon to join you in the physical world, to celebrate a special event I believe.' Said Sybil mistily. 'And what event might that be?' asked Albus conversationally, obviously amused. 'That the fates have not informed me, but who am I to ignore their promptings?' said Sybil even more mistily. Severus was looking at her as if he wanted to strangle her, probably because he did want to strangle her. Last year she only offered to crystal gaze for him, to see the year ahead. He had never thought she would come down from her solitude to have lunch in the Great Hall just to torment him. Minerva probably set it up. He glanced over to her. The thought of her conspiring with Sybil was abruptly terminated when he saw that she looked like she wanted to strangle Sybil. This look was probably the result of the many thoughts going through Minerva's mind at the time. Most of these thoughts were plots to strangle Sybil, or to transfigure her into a large glittering insect, or a depressed flowering shrub that could talk. How dare she spoil a whole lunchtime of tormenting Severus.
At last, at long last, the golden plates were cleared, and the students started to leave for their next class. 'Have a very nice day.' Said Albus. Just because no one can remember when you were born, thought Severus savagely. He stood, turned and walked composedly out of the hall. He had no class to teach now, and was hoping to spend a nice solitary hour or two in his study. He opened his study door, heard a frightened squeak, and saw a small house elf run, terrified past him, towards the kitchens. He glared after it. He was refining his glares, and could efficiently control the level of glare at ease. Today he was having lots of practice at glaring, at specific people, at random passers, at no one in particular, walls, and innocent objects he happened to be holding at the time. He turned to walk into his office when he saw it.
On his desk lay a single package, wrapped in brown paper, a note attached with string. He held the note delicately in one hand, as if it might explode suddenly, which was a fair assumption, as Snape had never seen a note more likely to explode. He unfolded the note. It failed to explode. He read the note. It consisted of five words: Have a very happy birthday. Still the note failed to explode. Puzzled, Severus picked up the package. It was not heavy, but felt as though there was some sort of material or cloth inside. He took the string from around the package and started to unwrap what ever it was that was inside. Both the string and the package did not explode. Wondering whether this was a good thing or not, Snape unwrapped the last bit of brown paper from the package and out slipped a brightly striped pair of socks. He stormed out of his office, intent on finding the person who did this before reconsidering, and walking calmly back, and sat meditatively at his desk.
Professor Snape glared broodingly at his quill in his hand, so another year gone. He had thought about not going to lunch, he couldn't handle Minerva's stupid remarks, or Albus' inane grin. He was pretty hungry now, and he couldn't go to the kitchens to get food. Those house elves didn't like him any more. Just because he kicked one after it knocked over a potion, consequently turning a desk into a depressed flowering shrub that could talk. He hated that desk with a passion now. Everyone would ask if he wasn't at lunch. Then McGonagall would probably 'accidentally' let it slip that it was his birthday, just like he had let it slip that Lupin was a werewolf.
He walked up to the teachers' table in the great hall. Albus, on seeing him, immediately assumed the smile he wore at breakfast. He was right, he couldn't handle it. He turned to walk out in a dignified manner, only to meet Minerva's smiling face.
She swept past him. She enjoyed torturing him. He felt that she was hiding something. He always knew when she was hiding something. But then again she probably wasn't, just acting like she was just to torture him. She assumed her seat and stared expectantly at him. Damn it, he thought, now he had no choice but to sit down for lunch.
Professor Snape was glaring moodily at the roast lamb on his fork, contemplating another year gone when Harry and Ron approached the teacher's table cautiously. They were looking for Hagrid. They hadn't seen him all day and he wasn't in his cabin. They were, for once, making a totally innocent enquiry. Snape glared at them. Harry averted his eyes, as he usually did. 'Professor?' Hermione addressed Minerva. Snape glared at her, she looked the other way. 'Yes?' asked Minerva. 'I was just wondering if you knew where.' she trailed off. Snape was giving her one of his worst looks, and was satisfied with her reaction momentarily before he realised that the general hush which was spreading throughout the Great Hall was not a response to the glare he practiced every potions lesson, and had now unleashed on Hermione. A glittering insect was sweeping towards the teachers' table. His eyesight was failing, if it wasn't he would have jumped up and ran straight out of the Great Hall screaming, all dignity forgotten. By the time Severus recognised Sybil Trelawney it was too late. 'Aaahh, Sybil, what a pleasant surprise.' Said Albus pleasantly. 'I saw myself leaving my solitary luncheon to join you in the physical world, to celebrate a special event I believe.' Said Sybil mistily. 'And what event might that be?' asked Albus conversationally, obviously amused. 'That the fates have not informed me, but who am I to ignore their promptings?' said Sybil even more mistily. Severus was looking at her as if he wanted to strangle her, probably because he did want to strangle her. Last year she only offered to crystal gaze for him, to see the year ahead. He had never thought she would come down from her solitude to have lunch in the Great Hall just to torment him. Minerva probably set it up. He glanced over to her. The thought of her conspiring with Sybil was abruptly terminated when he saw that she looked like she wanted to strangle Sybil. This look was probably the result of the many thoughts going through Minerva's mind at the time. Most of these thoughts were plots to strangle Sybil, or to transfigure her into a large glittering insect, or a depressed flowering shrub that could talk. How dare she spoil a whole lunchtime of tormenting Severus.
At last, at long last, the golden plates were cleared, and the students started to leave for their next class. 'Have a very nice day.' Said Albus. Just because no one can remember when you were born, thought Severus savagely. He stood, turned and walked composedly out of the hall. He had no class to teach now, and was hoping to spend a nice solitary hour or two in his study. He opened his study door, heard a frightened squeak, and saw a small house elf run, terrified past him, towards the kitchens. He glared after it. He was refining his glares, and could efficiently control the level of glare at ease. Today he was having lots of practice at glaring, at specific people, at random passers, at no one in particular, walls, and innocent objects he happened to be holding at the time. He turned to walk into his office when he saw it.
On his desk lay a single package, wrapped in brown paper, a note attached with string. He held the note delicately in one hand, as if it might explode suddenly, which was a fair assumption, as Snape had never seen a note more likely to explode. He unfolded the note. It failed to explode. He read the note. It consisted of five words: Have a very happy birthday. Still the note failed to explode. Puzzled, Severus picked up the package. It was not heavy, but felt as though there was some sort of material or cloth inside. He took the string from around the package and started to unwrap what ever it was that was inside. Both the string and the package did not explode. Wondering whether this was a good thing or not, Snape unwrapped the last bit of brown paper from the package and out slipped a brightly striped pair of socks. He stormed out of his office, intent on finding the person who did this before reconsidering, and walking calmly back, and sat meditatively at his desk.