A/N [Mireille]: My sister (known to you as Amata) and I wrote the beginning of this story a long time ago and only finished it recently. Don't take it seriously, and don't sue us because we own none of these people.
A/N [Amata]: Yum, Ogden's Firewhisky…the whole reason for this story. Enjoy, and drink up!
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It was another nasty afternoon in Snape's dungeon. Students who would normally have lingered in the hall outside any other classroom scuttled into the dungeon, knowing that Snape was the type to give them detention if he had so much as a headache. However, on the day our story begins, Snape was mysteriously absent.
"Maybe Lupin ate him," Ron said.
"Maybe Hagrid ate him," Draco said.
"Maybe his hair came to life and throttled him," Hermione said.
"Hermione!" said Ron.
"Well, I don't like him any more than you do," Hermione said, shrugging.
Just then a tremendous roar filled the hall. It rapidly grew louder until the door exploded into the classroom. The students were showered with shards of wood.
As a nastily jagged piece soared by Ron's head, he speculated, "Perhaps it'll puncture Malfoy's ego."
Into the room burst an immense, brand-new Harley-Davidson bike. The two people riding it were not recognizable, at least not until one of them pulled off his helmet to reveal his long, matted and yes, oily hair.
"Hey look, it's Snape," said Goyle, for the benefit of those who were even slower than he was.
"Ten points, Mister Goyle," said Snape. "Don't any of you touch this bike, I just polished it yesterday." Then, making several of the class choke on their own saliva, he said, "Coming, Sibyll?"
She in turn released her cloudy hair from her helmet, which sported a pair of racing flames.
Trelawney squinted around the room. "Is this your bedroom? It's awfully crowded."
Snape turned a rare shade of pink as half the class sniggered.
"No," he said hastily. "Sibyll, darling, you've left your glasses on my bedside table again."
"Snape has a bedside table?" hooted Ron.
"You mean Snape has a better sex life than me?" Draco muttered into his cauldron. "This is intolerable. I shall have to speak to Father about it."
Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to be fascinated with the bike. "You know what," she said, turning to Ron, "I really want –"
"Don't you dare say Snape," said Ron.
"Actually, I was going to say that I really want to know how Snape got a Muggle machine to work here."
"Obviously Snape is above the rules," Harry said.
Trelawney hefted her half-empty bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky; the picture of Gilderoy Lockhart on the label winked cheekily at the class. "Sevvie, dear," she said, "d'you want to finish this off? I'm positively plastered."
"Sibyll," he hissed, "lunch is over. And don't you have a class?"
"Oh, screw them," she said, swinging a leg over the bike in order to dismount, managing only to fall on the floor and catch her skirt on the motorcycle.
"Say," Goyle said in a stage whisper, "isn't dragon hide only supposed to be for boots?"
Snape snatched the bottle from her hand, took a gulp and said, "You'd better wash that before you give it back."
Trelawney giggled madly and said, "You'd better give me a sip of that to help me up."
"Whatever," Snape said, tossing her the bottle.
She finished it off. "Now get over here and help me up, you sexy bastard."
Ron made a funny popping noise.
"I want you to start on the Sobriety Potion," Snape said to the class. "Instructions are on the board. I will be personally testing the potions at the end of the period."
Meanwhile Trelawney had gotten up without Snape's help and was wandering along the back wall. "What have you done with your quarters, Sevvie?" she said.
"They're exactly where you left them this morning, you fool," Snape said. He hurried over to the statue of a leering gargoyle in the corner.
"Oh, I remember," Trelawney said, giggling madly. "You have to feel it up, don't you?"
The class was overcome with a sudden fit of coughing.
"About time you remembered, I have to tell you that every single time," Snape said. He felt the statue up and a hidden panel slid open.
"So," Trelawney said, "are you coming?"
"What the hell," Snape said. "It'll take them at least half an hour." He and Trelawney disappeared into his chambers, and the door clicked shut.
Hermione promptly marched over to the door and put a Silencing Charm on it.
"Harry," she said, "you'd better come over here and put one on too. Just in case."
"Say, Granger," said Draco, "how'd you and Potter get so good at Silencing Charms?"
"Say, Malfoy," said Harry, "how'd you get so good at making Sobriety Potion?"
"If you lived in my dorm, you'd be good at it too," Draco said. He and Harry exchanged glares, and Harry followed Hermione back to their seats.
The class mixed their potions in silence, but once they had all stood back to let the potions simmer, Ron poked Hermione in the ribs and said, "I don't think your potion is supposed to singe my eyebrows off."
Hermione looked at the board frantically. "But I followed the directions exactly," she wailed. Then she looked suspiciously into Ron's cauldron. "How did you end up with a perfect potion?"
"Oh, you know," Ron said. "A little of this, a little of that."
Hermione frowned at the board. "These instructions aren't right," she said. Everyone except for Harry and possibly Neville knew that already, of course, since they had been making it for a couple of years by then.
But at that moment, the door to Snape's quarters slid open, and Snape strode into the room. The students stared at him, trying to figure out why he looked so different, until they realized he was smiling. Trelawney followed, drinking deeply from a bottle of Karkaroff's Fine Vodka.
"I just had a vision," she giggled. "I think you died, Sevvie."
"Don't be ridiculous, woman," he said. "No one in this room is talented enough to kill me. Miss Granger, a flask of your potion, please."
Hermione said, "But sir –"
"Sibyll's already given me enough cheek for one day," Snape said. "Or perhaps not. Either way, give me the potion."
"You asked for it, sir," Hermione said. She filled a flask and handed it to him. He was too drunk to notice it was the wrong color.
He downed the potion, said, "Full marks, Miss Granger," and collapsed onto the floor.
"Oh my God," Hermione said. "I've killed a teacher."
The Gryffindors swarmed around her to offer congratulations.
Draco Malfoy stood up on his chair and said, "Now who are we going to get to fix the House tournament?"
Trelawney, who had found her glasses somewhere in Snape's chambers, stooped over his body. "Yeah, definitely dead," she said.
Just then, Dumbledore appeared in the room with a loud popping sound.
"But you can't Apparate on the grounds," Hermione said.
"I wrote that book, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore. He turned and saw Trelawney. "I thought you told me you weren't involved with him," he said.
"He seduced me this time," Trelawney said.
"Granger killed him, sir," Draco said helpfully.
"Well, Minerva will be delighted," Dumbledore said. "Sibyll, let's get out of here."
"Can I take the motorcycle?" she said.
"Fine," Dumbledore said. "But we have to go to my office to discuss your punishment. And bring that admirable vodka."
Turning to the class, he said, "Oh, and by the way, there won't be any Divination class for the rest of the day." He smiled broadly and said, "Have a nice day."
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