There were several reasons while Severus Snape was having a really bad, no
good, horribly horrible, very bad day.
The first reason being, he'd been unable to deduct any points from Gryffindor. For reasons that escaped him, Longbottom actually completed his potion without melting his cauldron. Snape couldn't even blame the momentous event on Granger, the silly girl had been out with the vapors, or something that Pomfrey cryptically referred to as 'female problems.' Snape shuttered at the words. He'd never wanted to, needed to, or had any desire to understand anything... female. They had far too many hidden parts, nuances and 'times of the month.' All of these euphemisms combined, ensured that men always got the short end. He thought, with a snort, men were simply expected to grin and bear it. After 37 years, he had no idea what he was supposed to bear, but it most assuredly couldn't be very pleasant, and he never grinned.
The second reason was, as had become commonplace, the inevitable balancing act he had to perform between Dumbledore and Voldemort. The similarities between the two demigods continued to astonish him. Both felt they were omnipotent, unstoppable and Snape's Lord and Master. The only major difference being. Voldemort had actually adopted the moniker 'Lord.' Dumbledore, with reasons only known to him, preferred the term, Headmaster. Snape's personal experience with the Headmaster allowed him to privately refer to Dumbledore as the Headminor. He snorted again, neither man would appreciate the comparison.
The third reason, was threefold: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Harry, bloody, Potter. Snape paused, enough of that.
But now, this had to be the climax to his really bad, no good, horribly horrible, very bad day. Dangling in front of him was the biggest piece of meat he'd ever seen. It didn't help matters that he was tipsy, just finished his piece of cock and the giant looming over him was addressing Snape in rhyme. It was foul, it was raw and just a little bloody.
"Hagrid, there is nothing on earth that could persuade me to place that anywhere near my mouth, let alone in it. It's huge, enormous and would you kindly stop waving it under my nose?"
"But Profess'er," Hagrid proclaimed, "it's just a tiny piece of Haggis!"
-end
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The first reason being, he'd been unable to deduct any points from Gryffindor. For reasons that escaped him, Longbottom actually completed his potion without melting his cauldron. Snape couldn't even blame the momentous event on Granger, the silly girl had been out with the vapors, or something that Pomfrey cryptically referred to as 'female problems.' Snape shuttered at the words. He'd never wanted to, needed to, or had any desire to understand anything... female. They had far too many hidden parts, nuances and 'times of the month.' All of these euphemisms combined, ensured that men always got the short end. He thought, with a snort, men were simply expected to grin and bear it. After 37 years, he had no idea what he was supposed to bear, but it most assuredly couldn't be very pleasant, and he never grinned.
The second reason was, as had become commonplace, the inevitable balancing act he had to perform between Dumbledore and Voldemort. The similarities between the two demigods continued to astonish him. Both felt they were omnipotent, unstoppable and Snape's Lord and Master. The only major difference being. Voldemort had actually adopted the moniker 'Lord.' Dumbledore, with reasons only known to him, preferred the term, Headmaster. Snape's personal experience with the Headmaster allowed him to privately refer to Dumbledore as the Headminor. He snorted again, neither man would appreciate the comparison.
The third reason, was threefold: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Harry, bloody, Potter. Snape paused, enough of that.
But now, this had to be the climax to his really bad, no good, horribly horrible, very bad day. Dangling in front of him was the biggest piece of meat he'd ever seen. It didn't help matters that he was tipsy, just finished his piece of cock and the giant looming over him was addressing Snape in rhyme. It was foul, it was raw and just a little bloody.
"Hagrid, there is nothing on earth that could persuade me to place that anywhere near my mouth, let alone in it. It's huge, enormous and would you kindly stop waving it under my nose?"
"But Profess'er," Hagrid proclaimed, "it's just a tiny piece of Haggis!"
-end
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