Hello, and good morning/night/afternoon.
The idea for this, quite frankly, insane series of events, known simply as 'The Trials of Severus Snape', comes from a list of ways to piss off our favourite Potions professor, entitled:
"404 Ways to Annoy, Harass, Confuse or Generally Scare Professor Snape" written by 'stars_planets_clocks'.
As FF.net does not accept lists, please visit her profile and you'll find a link to a website where you can view the list in full. It's well worth it, even if you don't like Prof. Snape.
Well, here goes.
This one is based on number 61.
'Sneak into his chambers. Put a Blast-Ended-Skrewt in his underwear drawer'.
Set in fifth year, by the way. OotP spoilers.
"The problem with you, Potter," sneered Snape, standing in front of the Boy Who Had the Audacity to Live, "Is that all the attention you receive has given you a rather high impression of yourself and your abilities. Self-esteem, however, does not help you brew potions." He finished, gesturing towards Harry's cauldron, which was full of a liquid resembling congealed vomit. It smelled quite nice, delicately tinting the air around it, making the dark, damp classroom smell of lavender and honeysuckle. It's a pity then, when it's supposed to look like tomato soup and smell like road kill.
Scowling at Snape, Harry packed away his ingredients, angrily shoving them into his bag. That was the second time this week Snape had given him zero for a potion. First out the door when the bell rang, Harry ignored Hermione shouting for him to wait, and practically ran out of the Entrance Hall, into the chilly spring air. Wandering towards Hagrid's hut, Harry waved at the huge figure coming out of the shabby cabin, glad to be in a class with a friendly teacher.
"How're ye Harry?" Hagrid asked, a smile hidden behind his bushy beard and several new bumps the size of eggs on his forehead. .
"Snape gave me another zero for my potion today." He answered, angry again. "I wish I could teach him a lesson."
Hagrid chuckled. "What's so funny?" Harry snapped.
"I think I might be able ter help you there." Replied Hagrid, a knowing smile on his bruised face.
"Harry! If you're caught you'll be expelled for sure!" seethed Hermione, letting her end of the box dip a bit. Underneath the Invisibility cloak, Harry, Ron and Hermione carried a long box, which contained a stunned Skrewt. Coming to Snape's office door, they stopped and set the box down. "Where's he at, anyway?" asked Hermione, peering in through the keyhole.
"Fred and George are keeping him occupied." Answered Ron bluntly.
"How?" she queried, unlocking the door.
"They sneaked up behind him and whacked him with a baseball bat Lee lent them. Then they locked him in a cupboard which will only open after three hours."
"So how long have we got?" asked Harry, picking up his end of the box.
"About half an hour." Answered Ron, heaving the box in through the door.
Carrying the surprisingly heavy box through the office part of his chambers, Harry opened the door leading towards the bedroom with his posterior, smiling in the knowledge that Snape would probably incinerate the door handle if he knew what it had come into contact with. Setting the box on the floor, Harry, Ron and Hermione stood silently for a minute, looking around at any number of things they could blackmail him with.
He had a four-poster bed, like most people in the school (they heard rumors that Hufflepuff had bunk-beds) with green sheets and silvery-grey drapes. Beside the bed was a small table, on which stood a small lamp and a pile of books. A large wardrobe dominated the other side of the room, and a chest of drawers was beside the door through which they had carried the Skrewt.
"Where does that go?" asked Ron, pointing at a door on the same wall as the wardrobe. Not waiting for an answer, Ron pulled it open and walked right through. "It's a bathroom!" he called excitedly, and rummaging could be heard. Leaping out suddenly, he held up a small glass bottle of an orangey-colored liquid. "Look what he has!" Ron breathed, examining the bottle closely. "This is sooo expensive." Hermione snatched the bottle off him.
"What is it?" she snapped, looking for signs of identification on the bottle.
"Aftershave." Said Ron. "The most expensive kind you can get." Screwing it open, he stuck his nose over it and inhaled deeply. Sighing contentedly, he looking immensely jealous. "45 Galleons a bottle." He moaned, and went back into the bathroom.
"Where're we going to put the Skrewt?" asked Harry, looking around for possible places.
"In his underwear drawer." Said Hermione firmly, walking decidedly over to the chest of drawers and pulling the top drawer out. "Socks." She announced. She pulled open the second drawer. "Underwear." She giggled, holding out a pair with the very tips of her fingers.
"Put them away!" hissed Ron, looking at them as though they'd try to stuff themselves down his throat.
Placing them back in the drawer, Hermione shuffled the boxers around until a hollow was made in the middle.
She stood back while Harry and Ron carried the sleeping Skrewt over, and placed it carefully in the drawer, curling its tail slightly so it would fit.
"Good thing it's not too big." Stated Harry needlessly, picking up the now empty box they had transported it in.
Heaving the drawer shut, Ron turned to say something, but then stopped, a look of horror on his face. The three of them listened intently as footsteps sounded in the office.
Diving under the invisibility cloak, Harry, Ron and Hermione, watched in complete terror as Snape walked through the door and seal it shut with a spell.
He had a huge bump on the back of his head, and his eyes were slightly unfocused. He ran a hand carefully over his head, feeling the damage, and made a noise of disgust when he realised several dead spiders had taken residence on his head. Mumbling distractedly to himself, Snape opened the drawer beneath the one occupied by the Skrewt, and removed a towel. Going into the bathroom, the three Gryffindors heard the shower turn on.
Rushing over to the door, Hermione tried frantically to open it, but was defeated by Snape's superior spellwork.
Looking around for something that would aid them in their escape attempt, they resigned themselves to the worst when Snape wandered out of the bathroom, nothing but a towel wrapped around his skinny waist. Ron shut his eyes tightly and prayed for death.
Leaving wet footprints on the floor, Snape wandered in and out between the two rooms, occasionally talking to himself under his breath. Taking out another towel, he wrapped it, turban-like, around his hair, and opened the wardrobe.
A strange, muffled scratching came from the drawer with the Skrewt.
Looking at it suspiciously, Snape shook his head as though he blamed it on his recent concussion, went back to rummaging in the wardrobe.
Smoke began furling out of the gaps in chest of drawers.
Snape took a step towards it, lifting his wand from the bedside table. He extended an arm as though to open the drawer, but before he could touch it, there was an almighty explosion and the drawer shot out and collided with his chest, bringing him to the floor.
Ron chuckled excitedly.
Shaking his head dazedly, Snape stared in abject horror at the similarly dazed Skrewt, currently scuttling around between his legs. Leaping off the ground in a move that would make a gymnast envious, Snape spluttered incoherently, moving slowly towards the door. He carefully placed a hand on the handle, and looked as though he wanted to cry when it wouldn't open. Noticing his wand lying about twelve feet away from him, Snape hopped lithely over the hissing Skrewt, and picked up his wand.
He blasted a spell at it, and then dodged it when it rebounded off the skrewt's hard armor, and bored a small crater in the wall. Snape made to walk past it, keeping in close to the wall, but the Skrewt had other ideas.
Scrabbling forward on the stone floor, the Skrewt curled up its tail, and blasted a tongue of flame at Snape. Leaping out of the way with a little shriek, Snape shot a spell at the door, which sprung open. Not waiting for an opportunity, he jumped over the Skrewt again and sprinted out of the door, towels flapping.
Walking back to the Gryffindor common room, Harry, Ron and Hermione complimented each other on the excellence of night's events. Passing a cupboard that looked as though it had exploded from within, they ducked under the invisibility cloak as footsteps sounded around the corner.
Snape, still in his towel, Dumbledore and Hagrid walked past them in silence. Snape was walking so briskly; he didn't notice his towel slowly heading south. Dumbledore coughed pointedly. Snape yanked the towel up around himself, flushing a strange shade of mauve.
Harry was sure Dumbledore looked at him, and although he knew he'd be slaughtered if Snape ever found out, he felt the whole thing was well worth it.
I feel so damn guilty for writing this. Although, I imagined myself in Snape's position, and if I was cornered in a room with nothing but a towel on and a insect the size of a beach ball coming at me, I'd run like hell too.
Hope you enjoyed it. Review if you want, I can't tell you what to do.
If you like Snape, and, like myself, wish 'Snape's Worst Memory' was removed from the face of the earth, read 'Krieg'. A slightly insane revenge series on JKR.
Danke schön.
Xanadan
