Chapter II, this being the second part.
"You call that a Dark Revel? I've seen more debauchery in a library" Sirius Black was disappointed, despite himself. He had been almost looking forward to the meeting. Dark Revels had forever been associated in Sirius's mind with, well, darkness, revelling and, midgets. And the coffee Revels of course Port, gossip and a swift fag were definitely not, in Sirius's opinion worthy of the ominous title. (Although Lucius Malfoy's cry of objection at the mention of fags in his household did make up for it).
Voldemort had only stayed long enough to stroke a few egos and damage a few minions, and had left muttering something that sounded remarkably like "you just can't get the staff these days". His point had been proved, when the nearest Death Eater had replied "But you've got a staff sir, you're leaning on it". This comment was followed by a green flash of light. The Dark Lord does not suffer fools or bad puns gladly. (A/N: so basically we're screwed. The Gryfindor next door will do something incredibly stupid and the walls here are thin…)
"Severus, can I have a word?" "Certainly, Lucius, I rather like insouciance myself. Aha aha". Silently cursing, Sirius realised too late that a textbook Snape reply was much more sarcastic than that.
"Are you feeling alright? I need to talk to you privately."
A private discussion with Lucius Malfoy was on both Sirius and Severus's things to be avoided at all costs list, especially when Sirius had claimed his control, but neither of them could think of a way out of this one. Resigned to their fate, they followed him out of the great hall and up the stairs
//Oh No. No. This can't be happening//
"What? Severus, what's wrong?" asked Sirius internally
//All the rooms upstairs are bedrooms// a panicked reply came. //He might try and jump us//.
As Lucius closed a heavy door behind them, and magically sealed it shut, Sirius was inclined to agree with him. Then Lucius sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the space next to him. They gingerly sat down and determined to get this over with; they asked, "What did you want to talk about Lucius?"
This was obviously the opportunity Lucius Malfoy had been born to exploit. He talked and talked, a torrent of unimportant drivel, and suddenly blurted out "Can you help me programme the clock on my video?"
//It's just an excuse to get us to bend over. He's sick// "Shut up and help me. I can't do this alone"
Sirius was not only a complete wuss, but also terrible with DIY and programming electrical equipment. He had a bow legged walk too. In the interest of fairness, he was still a hell of a lot cuter than Snape, and as witnessed by the fact he had friends, outside interests that didn't involve evil wizards, and in fact a life, his personality was pretty wonderful.
As time progressed it became more and more obvious that whatever his motives for enticing them to his bedroom, which they still weren't convinced had much to do with VCRs, Lucius Malfoy was not intending to try anything funny. Job done, Severus's general malaise gave way to blackest depression.
//Am I that unattractive? Even Malfoy the infamous nympho isn't trying anything on. I'm doomed to a life alone and unloved. Take my body. I don't want it any more//
"Severus, you have to work with what's given to you. Admittedly, you aren't the hottest chilli on the plant, but it's all about attitude. Look at James, he was a scruffy little nerf herder and still bagged the cutest girl in the school."
//You're just trying to cheer me up. I can accept my lonely fate, but please don't make it worse with your platitudes//
"Oh get a grip. Look I'll show you".
He slid off the floor and whispered to himself "Cameron Diaz in Charlie's Angels Two". A predatory look appeared in his eyes and he purred seductively "Lucius, come over here."
Not the most inventive of chat up lines, but you know, Gryffindor. When Malfoy was suitably close, Sirius lent in closer and whispered, "Now I've pushed your buttons, want to push mine?"
A puzzled look appeared on Malfoy's face as Snape lent in, kissed him hard on the mouth and quickly pulled away. "Severus??…"
"Sorry Lucius, but I've always had a thing for blonde hair, and yours is particularly beautiful," said Sirius, stoking the famous Malfoy mane and inwardly grimacing.
//What the hell are you doing??// "Proving a point, besides, we don't want to piss him off any more than I just did" // I don't think he's angry…// "What? I just stuck your tongue down his throat!"
However, Severus was proved correct, as, while they were bickering internally, Lucius had begun to smile, and pulled Snape into a passionate embrace. As they frantically searched for an escape plan that didn't involve their grisly death, an arrogant voice called "Alohamora" and the door creaked open.
"Dad, have you talked to Professor Snape about that potions book yet? Dad?" Then Draco's eyes flicked down and saw something he would never forget.
His father. And Snape. Together. Snape was looking distinctly green and panic stricken, but his father was obviously enjoying himself (VERY obviously).
"DAD!!" Draco screamed, and this time, Lucius heard him. "Draco… I can explain… listen"
"How could you do this to me?" Draco stormed off possibly to find some spoons with which to gouge out his eyes, with his father rushing behind offering bribes, platitudes and apologies in that order.
Snape took the opportunity to get up off the floor, walk down the stairs, gracefully glide out of the door, and when he was out of sight, run like hell towards the nearest place he could apparate from.
"I think we're going to be sick." // Malfoy, eh? Who would have thought it?// "You're sounding unnaturally buoyant considering our narrow escape". //Put it this way, I don't think we'll ever have a private chat with Malfoy again. He's so dull it was almost worth it. That said, I think we're going to need a very very long shower when we get back//
"Took the words right out of your mouth, my friend." It was a sign of how much they had changed that neither of them thought about the implications of Sirius's throwaway comment. As in the naked Snape ones.
*********
As it turned out, it was surprisingly easy to undress and put on a bathrobe with one's eyes shut. The shower water was now running and Sirius/Severus was hovering on the edge. (So to speak). It had just dawned on him that the sitting down, not looking around method was not going to work here. There would have to be touching and washing, and possibly being sick at some point. However there is a problem with hovering in bathrooms – namely that one's feet get rather cold on the tiled floor, and as already established, Sirius was a wuss.
But never let it be said that whilst being a Gryffindor rarity, a big girl's blouse, he was not inventive. Strange thoughts were drifting into his mind as to just how loyal house-elves were, and just how far they could be pushed before breaking. Which was a sign of just how being with a Slytherin for just shy of a week can seriously alter your perspective on things.
"Hey Severus, how d'you summon a house elf?"
//you shout 'Oi! By the power of the prettiest elf in the fellowship, Legolas Greenleaf, being the only elf that's not saying much, get here now!'//
"I have to shout all that?"
//no, just ring the bell.//
Which is exactly what Sirius proceeded to do. And is how a poor unfortunate elf by the name of Sappy ended up standing in the shower scrubbing Severus' body down with industrial strength shower gel and an oddly shaped loofah. And, to spare you all, and really myself the ordeal, we'll just say that the shower proceeded without too much incident, moans, or squeals. From anyone. Except, I expect, you the reader. And if not, why not?
Sirius (still with eyes shut, and a vague awareness that at some point he was going to have to get over this) wrapped himself up again and left the room, allowing Severus to issue a curt command to turn the shower off and tidy up the room to the elf. Which, in hindsight was the start of the problem.
The elf, poor Sappy, being after all a bit of a sap, was exhausted by his ordeal, spiritually, ecumenically and grammatically, and had no more energy left to do anything but collapse into the shower tray. This tardiness in itself being not such a problem, except when you are a small and furry elf, and the vortex of the draining water drags you over the plughole and holds you there by the power of suction. Which is how a trapped elf can flood a dungeon room. And also a way to have Snape outside in just a bathrobe and a foul temper. (A/n: no really, this did happen, but in Germany with a cat, and the flat was on the 7th floor, so there was much, much flooding. Heard it on Jonathan Ross.)
*******
But all this silliness being said and done, it proves that you can only drag a shower scene out for so long and remain sane. After the event that shall henceforth be known as 'the day Snape flooded the dungeons, ended up outside, and the hordes of admirers discovered that through a damp night shirt he looks nothing like Alan Rickman at all' a relative calm descended on the castle, as the rest of the staff that had lives, friends, travel plans and outside interests, returned and began preparing for the new term.
It was noticed in staff meetings that Severus was somewhat less argumentative than normal – people cited the fact that there had been no inkling that he was even thinking about recreating the epic battle that had been fought in the staff room in 1991, when it was suggested that Severus showed an undue amount of disappointment at not getting Potter in his house. Apparently many years of planned orphan ridiculing had just gone to waste – there was no way he was going to get all those insults into 5 years of potions lessons. Because everyone knew that Harry was as dull as ditch water and not likely to get an Outstanding-Level OWL at potions. Or anything else really. Which was the comment that sent the first curse flying and a chain of events in motion that ultimately led to every piece of comfortable furniture in the staff room being combusted or flattened. Dumbledore, becoming a bit of a sadist in his old age, replaced them all with high backed wooden chairs and then had resorted to employing Remus to growl at anyone who fidgeted overly. He tried to pretend it was because he felt sorry for the werewolf, but we all know it was because he was an old grump when the kids weren't around.
********
But back to my story. Well, not quite. Back in fact, to the distant past of 1991, when men were men and Snape was younger. (Sirius of course had a very fine body of his own at this point with hair Snape would have been proud of. That he was in Azkaban goes without saying. Well it didn't cos I just said it…) Anyway, said quip was delivered by Snape (i.e. Potter and ditchwater), and the first shot was fired (according to Snape) by McGonagall, and according to McGonagall, by the pot plant in the corner, that went by the name Fred, (but no-one really believed her, as Gryffindors are typically bad liars).
As the battle raged on, the curses became more and more petty and vindictive, with Professor Trelawney getting caught in the cross fire of a particularly nasty "parle obscurus" curse of Snape's from which she never fully recovered.
Being thus hit she retaliated "a plague on both your houses!" Snape cried "Haha! I only have one." This fly away curse goes a long way towards explaining exactly why nobody liked Slytherins, and the unusually high incidence of embarrassing and unexplained rashes among them or they could all be dirty little buggers. "I can wait Severus Snape… Mwahahahaha. Beware rich blondes and tall dark strangers."
"Great. That leaves me with a Weasley. I'll take my chances with the blonde if you don't mind Sybil" Which, given the events chez Malfoy was probably the worst thing he could have said.
An uneasy truce was formed to allow the casualties to leave the field. Eventually only Snape and McGonagall remained, she because of her Gryffindor pride, and he because he was a sneaky underhanded cad who was well aware of the age disparity between them. She would tire before him. It took the intervention of Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch cunningly diverting Peeves into the fray to allow both thoroughly cream crackered teachers to give up on fighting each other and fling hexes at the malevolent poltergeist.
******
Enough reminiscing. We will now return to the present. You may feel a slight discomfort, however, as the puns will only get worse… Literally tens of voices cry out in horror and are suddenly silenced by the realisation that it is entirely their own fault for reading the rambling of one or possibly two deranged students with far too much time on their hands (Sorry to the taxpayers, we promise to repay my debt to society one day.)
*******
Severus found that although staff meetings were dull, it was infinitely better when you have an inner monologue capable of conversation on its own. Maybe hearing things wasn't as bad as it was cracked up to be. He decided to put off admitting himself to St Mungo's until Dumbledore made a truly distasteful request (A/N: not going there despite own voices pressing hard for innuendo. Lalalala not listening.) He knew that it was impossible for a dead man to talk to him, and even if Black did return, he wasn't exactly going to be top of Sirius's bodies to possess list. That honour, he was almost certain would go to someone very blonde, very rich and very dirty. Malfoy in fact. That thought caused Snape to grimace and surreptitiously cast a teeth cleaning spell.
Several members of staff noticed Snape's displeasure and hastily increased their personal defensive spells to their highest level. They wouldn't forget 1991 in a hurry, and Quirrel being evil had very little to do with it. Dumbledore, whilst not missing the change in mood, carried on talking about grades of toilet rolls and whether prefects deserved Aloe Vera Andrex or should slum it with Aldi's Own, like the rest of the school.
Teachers, of course used exceptionally poor essays, or, when a class was particularly bright, the Hufflepuff badger (Sprout as head of Hufflepuff remained unaware of this as she used a compost heap as her toilet of choice, and had long thought the Hufflepuff badger deceased.) (A/N: Don't tell me you thought they kept those old essays that students agonised over. In fact, one year when there was a nasty outbreak of gastroenteritis, many of the essays didn't even get marked, and the grades received depended on the softness of their parchment rather than the quality of their writing. This explains Hermoine's one and only D in potions. She was dreadfully upset. Swotty bint.)
Having voted unanimously to force the prefects to slum it like the rest of the school, the meeting turned to more serious matters. The menu of the Great Feast. Every one of the teachers was sick to the back teeth of pumpkin juice, and since there was a pumpkin famine due to some kind of strange fungal thing possibly, although no one would say it out loud, due to aforementioned dungeon flooding night shirt incident, the teachers needed to find a new and unusual beverage to give to the students.
The first years were hardly going to be satisfied with coming to a magical school and being offered Robinson's Fruit and Barley. Without thinking, Snape offered up a suggestion "What about pomegranate juice?" Behind Dumbledore's chair, the lupine form of Remus began to convulse with what presumably would have been laughter if dogs could laugh, but came out rather more threateningly than he intended.
Werewolves weren't built for giggles, and so the spasming form on the floor caused everyone but Snape to move 6 feet down the Great Table away from the writhing body that was Remus Lupin.
"Severus, if you value your life, move away, the Wolfbane potion obviously isn't working" hissed Professor Vector. This of course was the worst thing to say to Snape, on several critical levels. First and foremost, never criticise a man's potion making ability. It's like suggesting he needs to ask for directions. Secondly, Sirius reliably informed him (//Oh great, I'm listening to the voices in my head rather than the council of my fellow professors// thought Snape wildly) that Remus was laughing because of the pomegranate thing that was a private joke between Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. If Moony lost control for much longer the beast would really take control and he was between the staff and the only door. Oh, and thirdly, right at this point, Severus didn't really value his life all that highly; he had always felt distinctly cheap, something which the Malfoy incident hadn't helped.
This in mind, Severus walked calmly over to Lupin and kicked him square in the tail. In a flash, Moony was on him, pinning him to the ground, hot saliva dripping onto his face, his hair and his exposed neck (easy now). A low growl filled the stunned silence. As quickly as he had pounced, Moony shook his head, and moved away, limping slightly.
Snape returned to the table, took out an exquisite black silk handkerchief and wiped the drool from his face. "Shall we continue ladies and gentlemen?" he gently enquired. Many of the teachers were obviously sizing him up for a padded room at St Mungo's but those who knew a little about werewolves and in particular the Wolfsbane potion realised that Snape had, at great risk to himself, saved their lives.
From those faces he saw respect, with a healthy dose of admiration shining through on a few faces. Basking in the love, he took the initiative and steered the meeting through to close in record time, preventing Dumbledore's traditional questionably sane ramblings causing any real delays. "If you'll excuse me, Professors, I have rather a lot of work to do tomorrow, and it has been rather a long day, so I'll bid you all good night." With this Snape left the room (did we mention his lovely walk before? Oh, it was a lovely locomotive strategy) leaving a rather confused and very intrigued set of teachers behind him.
******************
It was a little know fact that Remus had always possessed the ability to transform to a werewolf at will and keep his mind – this did not bother him overly – it was the unlooked for and uncontrollable transformations that gave him cause to whinge a bit. However, simply summoning a rotten enough mood – for which he kept a select set of memories, most involving day-time chat show hosts – was enough to allow him to drive himself into wolf form. This had turned out to be a useful ability in the long run, allowing him to hold his current position as chief whip and enforcer of the Hogwarts faculty, a highly demanding role, especially at staff meetings. Short of including Clare Short in the cabinet he really didn't see how they could be a more disagreeable lot.
The normal instigator was Snape, in his usually bad tempered way – but now he was making constructive comments, showing guidance and leadership and worse still, making cracks about pomegranates. Something was amiss.
If Remus had had a pipe or a deerstalker he may have felt compelled to say that the game would soon be afoot (but they had been stolen with the tent), and if he had had a crooked staff he may have said that a shadow and a threat had been growing in his mind (but that had been borrowed without permission by Voldemort). In fact, if he had had a lycra cat suit he may have said captain, there's and unidentified object coming up on sensors, but then he's always had too much fashion sense for that and werewolves try as hard as they can to avoid anything with the 'c' word in it, since it tended to drive them over the edge. And if he had had green fluffy ears he may have said clouded the way of the ferret is. But then Yoda never made any sense anyway. But as he had none of these props – not even a shirt to have ripped from his very back – he contented himself with soliloquising.
"Hmmm" quoth he, "there is something mightily strange going on here. I must go and have and in depth (but manly) talk with Snape about my emotions, and by communication we will solve all the ills of the situation."
Yeah really. But then he was a man. So he just grunted and headed in the direction of the dungeons.
*********************
Not without a certain trepidation, did Remus knock on the dungeon door. He suspected that Snape would abuse him for coming to early to collect his potion and in general for being overly Gryffindor. Imagine his surprise to find Snape pleasant – nay even pleased to see him – for although Snape thought he was going mad and allowing Sirius to deal with the distasteful situation as a form of distancing himself from it – we the reader know that in fact it was the joy of a formerly dead man meeting again his dear (and incredibly heterosexual) friend.
"Remus do come in" //Grr. Get him out of my lab. He'll leave hairs all over the place.// " Can I offer you a cup of tea?" //Now you sound like Dumbledore.//
"Thank you …Severus" (an imperious flap of the wrist to indicate that this was acceptable) "I came down to see how you were getting on. You've seemed a little different lately."
//You let the dumb mutt call me by my first name! Shame on you! That's it, I'm calling in my control time because you and your squeamishness flooded the dungeons and caused at least 50 hapless Alan Rickman fans to go blind.//
Sirius hmphed for a bit, decided that in fact he would have said something silly anyway. As yet Snape had not told anyone he was possessed, and Sirius didn't want to give himself away before he got to talk to Harry himself. He had a feeling that Dumbledore would be a bit ruthless in throwing him out.
Which is why, a somewhat cunning smile spread across Snape's face. After all we must remember that he is a diabolically cunning, scheming, manipulative, arrogant, self centred, sadistic social climbing bastard, and not a nice person at all or a harmless fruit. But he has one hell of a walk.
"Yes. I've been embroiled in a quite a strange relationship lately. It's affecting everything – how I think of thing, how I speak, what I do, everything…"
"Really, Severus? That's great. It's always great to see people getting together. So who's the lucky guy, anyone I know?"
"I am not gay. Can you please get that into your head!"
"Oh sorry, so whose the girl?"
"No, it's a guy. I never said that this was about sex. You have a filthy mind."
"So what happened?"
"We spent the first four days in bed – we were only interrupted by a summons from Voldie and his Death-Munchies."
"But I thought…."
"Well we were drinking and watching dvds, but nothing happened. I swear. Well, I don't *think* anything happened, but were very drunk"
"So who's this great friend?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. I hardly believe it myself."
"Go on, I promise I won't laugh."
"No"
"Well will you answer questions?"
"Sure."
"What is his name?" "Lupin. I've warned you. Fine Arthur, King of the Britons."
"What is his quest?" "To find willing bodies and the Holy Grail."
"What is his favourite fruit?" "Black – oh hang on, wasn't listening, thought you were following the script. Pomegranates, I guess. I think it comes from some kind of childhood in-joke."
"Dog or cat person?" "Dogs."
"House?" "He used to be hopelessly Gryffindor – don't give me that look – he's learning my ways quickly."
"So with the joke thing, was it 'what's the difference between a Slytherin and a…"
"Pomegranate. Yeah, already heard it."
"I was going to say 'flute'"
Severus frowned, then shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, one's a painfully stuck up arse, and you can finish the joke for yourself."
"Urgh. Don't talk to me about being taken from behind. That's nearly happened twice this week. Arghhh! Why did I just tell you that? Leave now, and never come back!"
"Oh please, don't start with that, I've no interest in your ring. (Snape moaned at the disgusting undertones of that). I think I have some ideas now. So long as you're alright."
"Just Dandy. Now get lost."
Remus left with good grace, with the vague awareness that something was still going on, slightly mollified by Snape's bitter tones towards the end of their little tete-a-tete. But now he had a feeling that he knew who, or at least what, was behind it all. And then he groaned in a manly and still incredibly heterosexual way. Some thoughts were just too much to handle.
References
The midgets come from Slytherin Rising Enemies of the Heir by JL Matthews, in the hilarious and utterly gratuitous chapter 18. It's painfully funny. Read it. Now. You don't *have* to read all the rest, but do; because then we'll feel better that we aren't alone in our tragic obsessions. If we don't get a life, neither should you. Nerf Herder is obviously a Star Wars thing and the voices crying out in pain Captain Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean. Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet Father Ted – I think the episode is called Kicking Bishop Brennon up the arse. If it isn't, then it's the episode where (surprise surprise) Bishop Brennon gets kicked up the arse. Star Wars again Sherlock Holmes Star Trek Lord of the Rings The labour government. Oh hang on, they're not really a work of fiction, but the cold hard truth of reality. American Pie (kind of) Very Secret Diaries by Cassandra Claire These 'what's the difference between a Slytherin and a…' jokes come entirely from our own imaginations, but you should all feel free to add any that come to mind.