-----
A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. This was written for fun and no copyright infringement is intended. This story was written for the Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest at http://www.geocities.com/snapeff/warning.html. It is in response to Second Wave Pairing #73, Arsenius Jigger. A couple of the book titles are partly borrowed from real book titles so if you think you recognize one, you're probably right. This fic was beta read by yomamma and mad scientist. Thank you!
-----
It was mid-summer and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was blessedly empty of students. Those staff who had not gone on holiday were busy preparing their curriculum for the coming school year. For Severus Snape, that meant picking a new Potions textbook for the First Year students. He had a pile of sample textbooks optimistically sent him by their authors. For some of the authors, optimism was bordering on delusion.
"A Thousand and Twenty-Six Steps to Simple Potionmaking" by Maria Flamboni-Cauldroni.
Severus snorted. If the textbook's title was intended to be reassuring, it was a complete failure. What 11-year old kid wanted to be confronted by 1026 anythings on his first day of school? Besides, it didn't even make sense. A thousand and twenty six steps? Not even Veritaserum was that complicated.
-----
There had been a two-week spell of intense heat outdoors. There had been several particularly grueling days of mass potion-making for Poppy Pomfrey indoors. The air in Severus' normally cool dungeons was oppressively hot, and so humid the walls and floors were sweating.
"Mix This!" by Rat B. Astarde
Severus stretched out on green satin sheets and rested the book on his stomach, contemplating the cover. The Slytherins and Gryffindors would like the title and the author's obvious pseudonym. He thought that most Ravenclaws would probably find it juvenile, however, and the more timid Hufflepuffs might be alarmed by it.
The cover's artwork was a cartoon of a bratty-looking, big-mouthed freckled kid hurling a fizzing potion at a teacher's desk with an apple on it. The kid reminded him of a young Fred or George Weasley, only uglier. If that were even possible. As Severus watched, the potion struck the desk and blew it up. The cartoon teacher stood up slowly, applesauce running down his face and steam coming from his ears.
"5 points from Mr. Astarde for failure to comply with safety procedures," smirked Severus. He reached for his glass and enjoyed another sip of brandy, plumped up the pillows and squirmed around until comfortable, then settled in to read the book cover to cover.
-----
The tiny squares of light from the dungeon's high windows crept up the walls as sunset neared, waning slowly from yellow to orange to red. Severus Snape lay naked on his heat-moistened mattress, the sheets and pillows abandoned on the floor. It was now almost too hot to think.
"What Color is Your Cauldron?" by Von Longerman
Intriguing title. The cover was a surreal wash of colors that seemed to shift even more slowly than the sunlight. Inside, the chapters had titles like Potions are Beautiful, Cause and Effect in the Magical World, and Your Emotions Affect Your Work.
The author didn't seem to believe in practical labs, and there were no experiments included in the text. Pity.
-----
As the sun set, the breeze from the windows died completely. Severus Snape sprawled on his mattress with one of the sheets twined around him like a Slytherin snake. He thought about getting up and pouring himself another brandy, but it was just too damn hot to move.
"The I-Hate-Potions Cookbook" by Leese Larrymore
Severus' most prominent feature wrinkled in distaste at the title. I-Hate-Potions indeed! Merlin knows the brats would like it, though. The cover was a simple still-life photo of a dinner table place-setting. The food looked like regular food but on closer inspection, the drink was in a large beaker and the utensils were a measuring knife, a spark starter, and a mixing stick. Ha. Ha.
-----
After night had fallen, marginally cooler air breathed in the windows and trickled down the walls of Severus' chambers. He stood in the corner leaning his bare shoulder against the against the stone, but its dewy coolness only teased.
"Potions: They Aren't Just for Squibs Anymore" by Heather Bungle.
He growled and hurled that book into the fireplace where it landed with a loud thud and a shower of dead ash. There was no way he'd use a book that would have students smirking and pointing and calling him a Squib behind his back all year. What was that supposed to mean, anyway? Potions had never been for Squibs. Well except maybe in the minds of puerile little lackwits and people who thought like them.
-----
In the dead of night, the temperature in the dungeon had finally gone down enough that by lying very still it was possible to feel almost comfortable. Severus Snape lay on his bed holding the last of the candidates at arm's length above him.
"Magical Drafts and Potions" (Teacher's Edition) by Arsenius Jigger
He pondered the cover. Uninventive title, but the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs would appreciate it. He wasn't familiar with the author, but the name had a nice pureblood ring to it that certainly wouldn't hurt when it came to the Slytherin students. The cover had an uninspired graphic of a beaker and a flask taking turns pouring a blue liquid into one another. Boring.
As he opened the book and gave it a glance through, he yawned and thought about calling it a night.
Then he reached the author's biography at the back of the book and his eyes widened in surprise. The wizard-photo of Arsenius Jigger was stark naked! The broad, powerfully built, and extremely hairy older wizard was lounging shamelessly next to a swimming pool. He grinned through his gray-grizzled beard at Severus and then crooked a finger.
-----
That night, Severus thrashed in his bed and had troubled dreams.
"Severus Snape! Potions Master of Hogwarts!" boomed big bearlike Arsenius Jigger in greeting. "Why, I hardly recognized you without any clothes on. So good to meet you." He clasped Severus' white-knuckled hand in his fat warm ones and pumped it vigorously. Severus flushed dark red in embarrassment and tried to cover his private parts with a copy of "Magical Drafts and Potions".
"Ah! You've read my book!" exclaimed the man. "Splendid! So wonderful to meet someone who had a genuine passion for potions, Severus old chap, it truly is." And Jigger's black academic robe promptly slid off as if nothing had ever held it on, revealing his body to be exactly as it was in the author-photo.
"Now see here Professor Jigger," began Severus, gaping at the scenery for a moment before he prudently turned away.
"My friends call me Arsenius. But you can call me 'The Jiggmeister'."
As an afterthought Severus moved the book to cover his rear.
"Sevvie baby, you read my mind," Jigger purred, as he grabbed Severus from behind and grabbed the book too and began to rub the book firmly all over Severus' bony body.
"Ow... stop it you fool!" He pulled the book out of Jigger's hands and then suddenly --
(as sometimes happens in dreams)
-- they were on the floor instead, embracing, wrestling, rolling across the messy floor of Jigger's office until Severus was sore from head to toe from colliding with the furniture and rolling over books and other objects.
Somehow, that didn't bother him at all. Not right at that moment.
Jump ahead to another bit of dream, with Arsenius Jigger bent over a couch arm with Severus gripping him by the love handles and humping for all he is worth. 'The Jiggmeister' is talking trash like a teenager.
"Believe me love, once you've 'gotten jiggy' with 'the Jiggster', you'll wonder how you ever got along without."
As sweat flew off his forehead with the vigor of their motions, Severus muttered, "I'm beginning to see what you mean."
"I bet you never knew what "I'll be Jiggered" meant until now!" said Jigger in satisfaction.
"You... you... ohh...."
"Oh, yeah, I put the Arse in Arsenius baby."
"Sweet Merlin," wept Severus, as he came.
-----
Dawn was approaching, and a chill gray glow had formed around the dungeon's high windows. Severus Snape found himself sprawled panting and sticky on his stripped-down bed, two or three sample textbooks wedged uncomfortably under various parts of his body where he'd fallen asleep on top of them.
It was a sad comment on Severus' love life that this wasn't exactly an unfamiliar scene.
-----
Several weeks later, after the school year had begun, Severus Snape sat in his office correcting Second Years' Potions homework. First Year Slytherin Blaise Zabini was there also, doing his assignment. He was late, and Severus had given him until the end of the day to turn it in - without penalty, of course. With the other teachers being as house-prejudiced as they were, his Slytherins needed all the advantages they could get.
After several more minutes of quiet, Zabini looked up with a crafty smile.
"May I look at the answer guide please?" he asked, certain that Severus Snape would let him get away with murder.
"I should think not," Severus snarled.
Zabini pouted in confusion. "Fine then, I'm done," he said, and turned in his paper before leaving.
"No, I should think not," repeated Severus after the boy had gone. Then he smirked at the Teacher's Edition copy of "Magical Drafts and Potions" by Arsenius Jigger where it rested safely locked up in a glass case. "Not until you're sixteen at any rate!"
-----
A/N: If you liked this story, pleeeeeeeeeeease read and review it. Otherwise I'll have a low self esteem. I mean, an even lower one.