"Albus, could I have a word?" asked McGonagall, poking her head into
Dumbledore's office.
"Certainly," was the prompt response.
McGonagall came in and dropped into chair. "It's Severus, Headmaster. He's not - quite himself today."
"In what way?"
"According to Professor Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey, he's been waltzing down the corridors and humming classical music."
Dumbledore smiled. "Ah, yes. A rather common symptom of his illness, I'm afraid." Seeing McGonagall's worried face, he hastened to assure her. "It's all right, Minerva. Severus will be just fine. There's nothing to worry about."
Severus hummed to himself as he put his feet up on his new desk. Amazing. Last night he'd managed to steal Black's motorcycle, meet a beautiful girl, fall in love, and return home in time to grade Lockhart's tests. Not a bad night's work, if he did say so himself.
He stretched and jumped up. He felt too restless to work today, and he was hungry. He walked quickly down to the Great Hall, careful to not skip or dance. That had been embarrassing. Thank goodness the Headmaster had told him what he was doing before too many people saw.
He had just sat down when a very short man dressed in very purple clothes entered the hall. The man held a trumpet to his lips, gave two shrill squawks, and began to shout in a very irritated voice.
"Hear ye, hear ye - "
The students had quieted down now, and everybody was listening.
"Last night, the Princess' Ball was held to choose a groom for Princess Estelle. The Princess' Chosen One left before he could be introduced to the Royal Family - "
I probably would have, too, thought Snape.
"The man who's hair is long enough to be tied back by this," bawled the announcer, "shall be wed to the Princess." And he held up Snape's silver ribbon.
Snape heard a distant crash and realized dimly that it was his goblet, which for some apparent reason had slipped out of his hand. He also heard McGonagall trying to speak to him, but he ignored her.
He had talked with the princess. He had danced with the princess. He had fallen in love with a PRINCESS!!
And she had fallen in love with him.
"Severus, Severus, are you all right?" he could hear McGonagall saying. Still in a daze he stood up and looked down at his pumpkin juice soaked robes. Dragon dung, he couldn't look like this when Essie - Estelle - came.
"Be right back," he said thickly, and staggered from the Great Hall.
The students were leaving the Great Hall. Lockhart hurried over to Hermione Granger.
"Ah, Miss Granger!" he said jovially. Hermione looked up and blush.
"I was wondering," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, "I've been wanting to try a new hairstyle for a few weeks now, and since you're the best student in the school - "
"Yes, Professor?" asked Hermione, blushing even more deeply.
"Could you make me a Hair-Lengthening Potion?"
And hormones being what they are, Hermione agreed to her handsome professor's request without even thinking about it.
"Milady?" asked one lady-in-waiting, entering the room cautiously. She walked around the room, searching for her mistress. "Milady, where are - "
Bam! The frying pan connected squarely with the unfortunate lady's head, and she collapsed. Estelle stepped out of the shadows, smiling at the weapon in her hands. She'd kept it around to drive away any suitor's who felt like singing at her window, but it obviously had other uses as well.
She looked down at her clothing. The pants were a little big, but they had been the best she could find. After all, who ever heard of escaping in a dress?
Quickly, Estelle pushed the tied-sheet rope she'd made out of the window and began to climb down.
Lockhart smoothed back his newly lengthened hair and waited. The only person so far whose hair had been long enough was Dumbledore's, but he was obviously too old. And the only other person on the staff with long hair was Snape. And it certainly couldn't be him.
Or, thought Lockhart with a sudden qualm of doubt, could it be? He certainly had acted strangely when the messenger came in.
"Next!" the announcer cried grumpily, and Lockhart stepped forward. Well, even if Snape was the Chosen One, it wouldn't matter. Lockhart was going to be the groom.
The advisor tied the ribbon around Lockhart's wavy gold hair. "Perfect," he said in obvious relief. The students crowded around the testing area cheered, and Lockhart smiled and waved at them. Oh, yes, he was going to marry the princess -
"Wait!" Snape called out, walking into the Great Hall.
"Sorry, testing's over," said the man.
"What?!" Snape shouted.
"That's right," said Lockhart smugly. "I'm the Chosen One."
Snape crossed his arms. "If you're the Chosen One," he said, "then where are your matching dress robes for the ribbon?" And he spread his arms. Lockhart stared at the silver-and-black robes and gulped.
"Severus! There you are!" called out a woman at the entrance. Estelle was standing there, wearing pants and carrying, for some reason, a frying pan. Snape's heart jumped at the sight of her.
"Estelle!" he cried out. The crowd parted for the princess as she walked closer, talking rapidly and waving the frying pan in disgust.
"I tell you, I had the time of my life getting out of that stupid castle - I actually had to knock out one of my ladies-in-waiting!"
"Princess," said Lockhart with a bow. "I am honored to greet my bride."
"You? My groom? Ugh," gagged Estelle. "I'd rather marry a dung beetle."
"Actually, I don't think there's much difference between the two," said Snape seriously.
"Yeah, you may be right."
"Well," said a desperate Lockhart, reaching out and grabbing Estelle's arm, "your father promised your hand in marriage to whoever's hair fit the ribbon, so you don't have a choice - "
"Expelliarmus!" shouted Snape, and Lockhart slammed into the opposite wall. Dust rained down as Lockhart slid slowly to the floor, unconscious. The students and the staff cheered wildly.
"That's why I'm resigning," said Estelle, looking at Lockhart. "I hate it when people boss me around, and for some reason it's easier when you're a princess. People always expect you to be so nice and polite."
"You're resigning?" asked Snape.
"Yeah, I've got plenty of cousins willing to take my place. You don't mind, do you?"
For answer Snape simply pulled her close to him. And there, in the middle of Hogwarts' Great Hall and ignoring the boos from the Gryffindors, they finally kissed.
"Certainly," was the prompt response.
McGonagall came in and dropped into chair. "It's Severus, Headmaster. He's not - quite himself today."
"In what way?"
"According to Professor Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey, he's been waltzing down the corridors and humming classical music."
Dumbledore smiled. "Ah, yes. A rather common symptom of his illness, I'm afraid." Seeing McGonagall's worried face, he hastened to assure her. "It's all right, Minerva. Severus will be just fine. There's nothing to worry about."
Severus hummed to himself as he put his feet up on his new desk. Amazing. Last night he'd managed to steal Black's motorcycle, meet a beautiful girl, fall in love, and return home in time to grade Lockhart's tests. Not a bad night's work, if he did say so himself.
He stretched and jumped up. He felt too restless to work today, and he was hungry. He walked quickly down to the Great Hall, careful to not skip or dance. That had been embarrassing. Thank goodness the Headmaster had told him what he was doing before too many people saw.
He had just sat down when a very short man dressed in very purple clothes entered the hall. The man held a trumpet to his lips, gave two shrill squawks, and began to shout in a very irritated voice.
"Hear ye, hear ye - "
The students had quieted down now, and everybody was listening.
"Last night, the Princess' Ball was held to choose a groom for Princess Estelle. The Princess' Chosen One left before he could be introduced to the Royal Family - "
I probably would have, too, thought Snape.
"The man who's hair is long enough to be tied back by this," bawled the announcer, "shall be wed to the Princess." And he held up Snape's silver ribbon.
Snape heard a distant crash and realized dimly that it was his goblet, which for some apparent reason had slipped out of his hand. He also heard McGonagall trying to speak to him, but he ignored her.
He had talked with the princess. He had danced with the princess. He had fallen in love with a PRINCESS!!
And she had fallen in love with him.
"Severus, Severus, are you all right?" he could hear McGonagall saying. Still in a daze he stood up and looked down at his pumpkin juice soaked robes. Dragon dung, he couldn't look like this when Essie - Estelle - came.
"Be right back," he said thickly, and staggered from the Great Hall.
The students were leaving the Great Hall. Lockhart hurried over to Hermione Granger.
"Ah, Miss Granger!" he said jovially. Hermione looked up and blush.
"I was wondering," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, "I've been wanting to try a new hairstyle for a few weeks now, and since you're the best student in the school - "
"Yes, Professor?" asked Hermione, blushing even more deeply.
"Could you make me a Hair-Lengthening Potion?"
And hormones being what they are, Hermione agreed to her handsome professor's request without even thinking about it.
"Milady?" asked one lady-in-waiting, entering the room cautiously. She walked around the room, searching for her mistress. "Milady, where are - "
Bam! The frying pan connected squarely with the unfortunate lady's head, and she collapsed. Estelle stepped out of the shadows, smiling at the weapon in her hands. She'd kept it around to drive away any suitor's who felt like singing at her window, but it obviously had other uses as well.
She looked down at her clothing. The pants were a little big, but they had been the best she could find. After all, who ever heard of escaping in a dress?
Quickly, Estelle pushed the tied-sheet rope she'd made out of the window and began to climb down.
Lockhart smoothed back his newly lengthened hair and waited. The only person so far whose hair had been long enough was Dumbledore's, but he was obviously too old. And the only other person on the staff with long hair was Snape. And it certainly couldn't be him.
Or, thought Lockhart with a sudden qualm of doubt, could it be? He certainly had acted strangely when the messenger came in.
"Next!" the announcer cried grumpily, and Lockhart stepped forward. Well, even if Snape was the Chosen One, it wouldn't matter. Lockhart was going to be the groom.
The advisor tied the ribbon around Lockhart's wavy gold hair. "Perfect," he said in obvious relief. The students crowded around the testing area cheered, and Lockhart smiled and waved at them. Oh, yes, he was going to marry the princess -
"Wait!" Snape called out, walking into the Great Hall.
"Sorry, testing's over," said the man.
"What?!" Snape shouted.
"That's right," said Lockhart smugly. "I'm the Chosen One."
Snape crossed his arms. "If you're the Chosen One," he said, "then where are your matching dress robes for the ribbon?" And he spread his arms. Lockhart stared at the silver-and-black robes and gulped.
"Severus! There you are!" called out a woman at the entrance. Estelle was standing there, wearing pants and carrying, for some reason, a frying pan. Snape's heart jumped at the sight of her.
"Estelle!" he cried out. The crowd parted for the princess as she walked closer, talking rapidly and waving the frying pan in disgust.
"I tell you, I had the time of my life getting out of that stupid castle - I actually had to knock out one of my ladies-in-waiting!"
"Princess," said Lockhart with a bow. "I am honored to greet my bride."
"You? My groom? Ugh," gagged Estelle. "I'd rather marry a dung beetle."
"Actually, I don't think there's much difference between the two," said Snape seriously.
"Yeah, you may be right."
"Well," said a desperate Lockhart, reaching out and grabbing Estelle's arm, "your father promised your hand in marriage to whoever's hair fit the ribbon, so you don't have a choice - "
"Expelliarmus!" shouted Snape, and Lockhart slammed into the opposite wall. Dust rained down as Lockhart slid slowly to the floor, unconscious. The students and the staff cheered wildly.
"That's why I'm resigning," said Estelle, looking at Lockhart. "I hate it when people boss me around, and for some reason it's easier when you're a princess. People always expect you to be so nice and polite."
"You're resigning?" asked Snape.
"Yeah, I've got plenty of cousins willing to take my place. You don't mind, do you?"
For answer Snape simply pulled her close to him. And there, in the middle of Hogwarts' Great Hall and ignoring the boos from the Gryffindors, they finally kissed.