Title:
NOVEMBER RAIN.
Author: Me! Linda Lupos.
Rating: euh, PG13 for language...
Disclaimer: all's JK Rowling's, November Rain is a song by Guns N' Roses.
Author's Note: I made this up a few months ago, on vacation, while listening to
an overdose of November Rain. I started it but then left it lying around for
weeks on end, and you can see it from the plot, which is more or less
non-existent. I also don't know why I actually put Mary Sue in it; she was
actually planned to be Sev's love interest but that man successfully avoided
all romantic stuff and insisted on staying in character... drat.
BTW, I know practically NOTHING of Guns N' Roses, only the songs November Rain
and Sweet Child O' Mine, so sorry if I offended any fan of theirs, it wasn't
intentionally...
This was written for Halloween 2002, and I'd
wanted to post it on fanfiction.net before, but the site wouldn't let me.
There'll be a Valentine sequel, so I'm posting this now instead of coming
Halloween.
Now, onto the story! Reviewers, be nice...
November
Rain
A fict by Linda
Lupos.
He dipped the black quill into the bottle of ink – black, naturally -, paused
for a moment, then started writing, mumbling words and phrases in the meantime.
"Subtle science, exact art, hmmm… understand the beauty of – of – the softly
simmering cauldron… shimmering fumes, delicate powers of liquids that creep
through human veins. That sounds good. Bewitching the mind, ensnaring the
senses… teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death. And a
sneer at the end: if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have
to teach. Period." A black line under the words
completed it.
Severus Snape sat back in his comfortable chair and re-read what he had just
written. Every year, he wrote an impressive speech (most of the time it was
even better than Dumbledore´s, though he did say so himself) for the
first-years at Hogwarts, so that they would not forget who the Potions Master
was, the meanest teacher, the embodiment of Slytherin Sarcasm (with capital S),
the greasy unwashed git that always favoured the students of his own house and
who never missed a chance to humiliate the Gryffindors, mhuahahaha! (Note to
self: work on that evil laugh.)
The problem was, the speech seemed to have lost its effect…
It was not even two years ago when he had first noticed it. The
drooling. The staring. The whispering whenever
he walked past a group of students.
It had taken him weeks before he found out why and he had discovered it only by
accident. One day, a student had forgotten her agenda. Leafing through it to
find out who the owner of this badly-treated and much
scribbled- and drawn-upon little book was, he couldn't help but notice one
particular name, often in connection with his own name.
Alan Rickman.
Having no clue as to who this was, he just frowned, looked up the name of the
unfortunate girl who would be scolded for being so forgetful, and threw the
agenda aside. Whatever.
But in the days afterwards, he couldn't help but notice a strange pattern in
his students' (most of them female) behaviour. It always started at the
beginning of the lesson (naturally). They stared at him when he entered the
classroom, practically drooled over their books when he began to speak, they
never paid attention to a word he said, always forgot to take notes so they had
to copy it from their classmates (those who did pay attention), they always
made up silly questions and asked them ten times in a row, and when he answered
them they giggled in a most irritating way. They went out of their ways to get
detention, and when they got it, those stupid girls practically cheered for
some unknown reason.
Checking the clock on the wall of his office, Snape noticed it was about time
to go to the Great Hall, for the beginning-of-the-new-schoolyear-feast. Not
that he would enjoy it, but he had to be present, simply because he was a
teacher.
Sighing, he got to his feet and made his way upstairs, through dark corridors
and up narrow spiral staircases, to the small wooden door behind his seat. That
door was the main reason why he sat there: to avoid annoying students and
equally as annoying colleagues.
During his long walk, he thought some more about his sudden fanclub, just
because he sometimes liked to wallow in self-pity. He couldn't understand it. He
had been hated for practically all his life, and was the least favourite
teacher in the school. The only students who liked him a tiny little bit were
the Slytherins, because he always favoured them, and the members of the
Hogwarts Gothic club, because of the way he dressed. But since they were all
Slytherins, it didn't actually count up the number (well, they did name him
their unofficial mascot… so in a way they liked him more than their fellow
housemembers. Hm…). And as far as Snape knew, he
hadn't changed any habits, he hadn't changed his dress-code, he hadn't suddenly
turned nice and unless he was completely blind or a total idiot, he hadn't
turned into Prince Charming either. Besides, he hated white stallions; he
preferred black stallions.
Had he forgotten anything? he wondered when he sat
down at the Staff Table (and ignored McGonagall who seemed in a talking mood.
She was looking at him with an expression that predicted the worst). Ah, yes,
of course. How could he ever forget.
The hands.
He examined them shortly. They were currently a nasty shade of green with black
ink-stains, due to lack of time to wash them. There was a beetle-eye looking at
him from under the nail of his left-hand index finger. He scooped the fork from
the person who would be sitting next to him (but hadn't arrived yet) and
removed the little black eye, then, with a little flick of his fingers, shot it
into McGonagall´s goblet with pumpkinjuice
when she wasn't looking. The blueish wing from a scarab under the nail of his
right-hand thumb got the same treatment, only this time Trelawney was the
victim. With a bit of luck she would think the little wing an omen, a sign to
leave dinner early. That would be nice, he thought.
Where was he? Ah, his hands.
Yes. Well, as said above, he thought, looking at the students walking into the
Great Hall (drat, Potter was still alive), his hands were nothing special. Just
five fingers on each hands, nails on each finger, and
lines on the palm Trelawney wasn't allowed to see (but oh, how much she
wanted…). Speaking of the Divination teacher, he glanced at her and was pleased
to see that she had picked up her goblet and was eyeing its
contends suspiciously. He smiled. Very good.
"Ah, I see you're enjoying yourself. Wonderful, wonderful."
Snape stiffened. Dumbledore. The old man had a habit
of dragging Snape into events he wanted to be left out of, all under the name
of "socialising". Thank you very much, but he could live without that.
"You might be interested to know," the Headmaster continued, "that
you have a new colleague."
"Gee, what a surprise. Could that be a new Defence Against
the Dark Arts teacher?" snarled Snape.
"I knew I wouldn't be able to keep that a surprise for you!" said Dumbledore
cheerfully. He even patted Snape on the back. The greasy-haired Potion Master
shivered. Did he had to do that in front of the
students?!
"She's sitting next to you," Dumbledore told Snape. The younger man lifted an
eyebrow. First of all, the DADA-teacher always sat besides the
Potion teacher (well, except for Lupin and Moody, but those were special
situations; Lupin would probably´ve been strangled or poisoned at the end of
the year, and Moody would probably´ve cursed Snape before the end of the year),
and second: she?
God no.
"And I heard she shares some interests with you."
"What, she likes to be left alone too?" muttered Snape sarcastically. God, the
man even winked. Stupid match-maker. It was completely
illusive to Snape why he was always paired up with everybody. Dumbledore had
tried to have him date practically every female teacher in the school (well as if, most of them were at least twenty
years older anyway), and if you had to believe the rumours, Snape was also in
love with half of the men at school, including Harry Potter and Dumbledore
himself. Yuck. If there was someone he did not want to see naked, it
was Dumbledore (not that one would see much, with all that hair). He'd rather
sleep with Harry – what was he thinking?! Eew!
Snape fought back the urge to scream and shiver and run away, burn all this
clothes and take a boiling hot shower. Dumbledore, however, hadn't noticed a
thing, and was still chatting about the new teacher. Snape had to stop him.
"Yes, okay, nice, when do I get to meet this wonder of
education?" he cut in harshly.
"Oh, she will be here any minute," the Headmaster from Hell answered.
Right. Really nice.
Grumbling, Snape said down, not even enjoying the sight of an alarmed Trelawney
who had fished the blue scarab wing out of her goblet and had actually taken
her pocketsize copy of "Omens and how to recognise them" to see what
kind of evil it predicted. Probably lots of annoyance for a certain Potions Professor,
Snape thought depressed.
The feast didn't cheer him up, nor did the sight of the students of his house
making fun of the Gryffindors. Snape ignored his colleagues and just shoved
food in his mouth without really tasting what he was eating, just wanting to go
back to his dungeons.
But alas, it wasn't meant to be. Suddenly, somehow exactly in that rare
split-second that occurs sometimes, that split-second in which every student is
quiet, the oak doors of the great hall opened.
The silence even managed to make Snape look up from his dinner. The person
entering was small, dressed in a velvet silvery cloak. It was a woman, and she
was inhumanly beautiful. Her blond hair curled down her back like a cascade,
and she had blue eyes that shone in the lights of the candles. She didn't seem
to mind all the eyes set on her, but practically strode to the high table. With
a sudden shock, the Potion Master realised this was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and she was going to sit next to him.
Well,
that will keep the gossiping going, he thought. He could
already see the students stare at the new teacher. Saliva was dripping (in a
very disgusting way) out of George Weasley´s mouth, and judging by the glare
Pansy Parkinson gave Draco Malfoy, the Slytherins weren't exactly unaffected
either.
"Ahm, yes," Dumbledore suddenly cut the silence. "May I introduce you all to
our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Miss
Mary Sue Honey." A faint applause rose, while the new teacher took her seat
besides Snape. She smiled a flashing white-teethed smile at him which could've
rivalled Lockhart's.
His stomach turned when he noticed he was taking an almost instant sort of
liking to her too, just like everybody else. An until
now unknown part of him observed her body was extremely well-shaped under that
cloak. Snape tore his eyes off her and instead shifted his attention to Trelawney,
who was now leafing through her book with a puzzled expression. This couldn't
be right, her whole expression was saying, how can this new teacher be bad?
But
apparently, you're right, for once, Snape thought. Lots of
annoyance for a certain Potion Master…
In the first few weeks, everything was perfect and fine. This Mary Sue (as she
insisted everyone would call her) appeared to be the best DADA teacher they'd
ever had. Every student loved her, the professors praised her for her excellent
teaching (and she was so young!), rumours went that she was secretly an Auror,
asked by Dumbledore to teach. She had done it to return a favour: Dumbledore
had helped her a great deal when her parents were tragically killed by Vol-You
Know Who. But since she never wanted to talk about that and always got tears in
her large saffire-blue eyes when someone mentioned it, everybody avoided the
subject. They didn't want to hurt her feelings, because everybody loved Mary
Sue!
That is, everybody except the Monster in the Dungeons (a.k.a. Snape). He didn't
mourn the loss of popularity (what's Snape compared to someone who appears to
have fallen straight out of heaven? And besides, he still had some die
hard-fans (pun intended, ladies!) who were loyal to their Potion Master, so he
still had something to be annoyed about), but he disgusted the Mary
Sue-worshipping more and more. She was so perfect. She simply hád to
be family of Lockhart, else it was unnatural.
One of the most annoying things was that she could do anything. She'd faced and
fought most of the creatures she taught about, she was a walking library, knew
practically everything there is to know about herbs, there simply wasn't a
charm she couldn't do, and Snape guessed she was also a miracle if it came to
potions. Not that he wanted to find that out. Though it would give him a chance
to turn her into a toad or something (and have the whole school hate him).
Another annoying thing was that she always was so awfully cheerful. Her smile
appeared to be glued to her face. Only when the situation asked for it, she
would put on an concerned expression, nodding seriously, and then, after having
cheered the person she was talking to up, that hated smile turned up again,
showing a row of perfect teeth.
And that was what Snape hated the most. He could've lived with someone who
could do anything; Dumbledore almost reached that point. He could live with an
eternally cheerful person; that also counted for Dumbledore (now he came to
think of it, maybe they were related? Everything was possible with Mary Sue.
She probably was). But he could not live with the fact that she was so, so… disgustingly
beautiful.
An angel who's fallen straight out of heaven, that was
the perfect description. Her eyes were saffire blue, her long curly hair was blond
with a touch of gold, she had a perfect heart-shaped
face with a fine, delicate mouth. And the rest of her body – Snape didn't even
want to think about that, but it might be sufficient to say that every girl in
the school wanted to look like her, and that also counted for the boys, but
they usually left out the words "to look like"…
Okay, Snape was man enough to admit (but only in the middle of the night) he
was also a part of that part of the male population at Hogwarts. Mary Sue had
some kind of charm that made everybody in the whole wide world like her. Even
Mrs Norris purred when she saw the Defence Against the
Dark Arts teacher.
And still… the greasy-haired Potion Master thought. And still it will take a bit more
than natural charm to, euhm, "ensnare" me…
Leave it to Dumbledore to provide that "bit more".
'T was the day of Halloween…
When old Snape was stalking the corridors. Hoping to get rid of his fowl mood
(no one knew the exact reason for him being so pissed off; the author suspects
even Snape didn't knew), he was hoping for some students to scowl at and give
detention, preferable some Gryffindors. Today being Halloween, the students
were cheerful and happy, some of them going to Hogsmeade
to buy candy and other sugary stuff, others were looking at the last Halloween
decorations being put into place. Snape carefully avoided all the festivities,
until he encountered four Gryffindor students who were already dressed up for
tonight's party. One was sporting a purple alien's head,
another was dressed in a 19th century dress, made of elegant peach-coloured
silk. The thirth one was dressed, oddly enough, like
a fish wearing a tuxedo or something, and the last one was dressed like an
ordinary Muggle but was holding something Snape
recognised as a gun, and she (they were all girls) was muttering "yippee
ka-jay, mother f*cker" under her breath. Snape
decided they were going to suffer for his bad mood (hey, he's a teacher okay?
He can do such things!).
He marched in their direction, hoping for an intimidating effect, but as soon
as they saw him coming, their faces lit up in delight, and then immediately
flushed.
"What are you doing here?" he barked. The four stuttered and were generally
lost for words, but, quite unusual for students who were scolded by Snape,
never took their eyes of him. Actually, to be quite honest, they looked
downright admiringly.
"Now what would four young Gryffindors," he continued, "be doing inside,
on a day like this?" The effect of his words was amazing. If he'd offered candy
to them, they wouldn't be more amazed. Their jaws almost literally dropped and
they looked as if they were on the edge of drooling. Yuck. He decided to glare
at them, sarcastically raising one eyebrow. "Well?"
"Well, we, euh…" stuttered the fish-wannabe.
"We just er…" tried the alien-lookalike.
"Careful," Snape warned them. "People might think you're – "
"UP TO SOMETHING!" the four students cheered, making Snape jump. Were they
psychic or something?! How did they know what he was going to say? Better get out
of here, he thought.
"Shut up!" he bellowed. "DE – " Something strange made
him stop death in the middle of the word 'Detention'. The look in the students'
eyes had changed from slightly impressed to admiringly to – happy? This was not
good, especially when they were able to read minds.
"De… there's no need to be standing around here, I better get going, bye!" And
he ran in the opposite direction.
Behind him, he could hear the girl in the silk dress say: "what do you mean, 'give me detention professor Snape, or I will run mad'
is the wrong thing to say…?"
He sneaked into the Great Hall, back against the wall, hoping to escape through
the door behind his seat, which was unfortunately a Great Hall away.
"Hey Severus!" someone greeted him. Snape jumped,
immediately recognising the voice. Mary Sue. Drat.
"Euhm, hello, I'm in a hurry, bye!" He tried to
escape but she dragged him back by the end of his robes.
"Oh c´mon Severus, look at
the nice Halloween decorations. Aren't they lovely?"
Under the Curse of Mary Sue, Snape looked around and almost admitted the huge
pumpkins and the black bats hanging from the ceiling were nice, were it not
that the Curse quickly wore off.
"I knew you would like them!" said Mary Sue cheerfully, clapping her hands and
almost jumping up and down, her hair dancing as if this was some kind of
shampoo commercial (with Snape being the "before"-person and Mary Sue the
"after"-person). "And there's gonna be even more fun!"
"Really?" muttered Snape, no longer under the Curse. "Whoopee…"
"Amazing, not? There's going to be a dance, and people can dress up!" So that
explains the students in their weird costumes, thought Snape. "And
there's going to be a band called Wands N' Roses!"
"That'll be Guns N' Roses then," corrected Snape. He was – secretly – a huge
fan of the Muggle rockband.
He owned various albums and simply hated it when someone said something wrong
of it, even if the person in question was Mary Sue, and couldn't be hated by
anyone in the whole wide world.
"Really?" said Mary Sue, striking a pensive pose, which, with her Miss
Universe-face and eternal smile, looked fairly unbelievable. "Is it really GUNS
N' Roses? But I thought Albus said…"
"That's you problem, you thought," Snape said, and quickly fled before
she'd figured out that he'd insulted her. Mary Sue wasn't always the smarted
person around.
Wands N' Roses kept bugging him. He'd decided to skip tonight's festivities,
have the house-elves make him dinner, and finally read that book he'd bought
himself for his birthday, about a week ago (the only other person who ever gave
him a birthday present was Dumbledore, who always insisted on giving everybody
socks). But there Snape sat, in his comfortable leather chair, in front of a
roaring fire, with a glass of the best wine next to him and the book in his
hands, and he couldn't stop thinking of the band Dumbledore´d
hired for tonight.
What if…
What if it actually was Guns N' Roses, only incognito? They wanted to avoid
being recognised by Muggle-born students and that's
why they'd renamed the band.
What if it were actually The Weird Sisters, only doing Guns N' Roses songs for
tonight? Ridiculous, they had quite an impressive repertoire of themselves.
What if it was just a group of students, thinking they could play? Dumbledore
didn't want to discourage them, of course, and that's why they were allowed to
play, but all the listening students would run away five minutes in, because
the band was so awfully bad. And they'd named themselves Wands N' Roses because
they thought the name cool.
Or what if…
He closed his book and got to his feet. What if he just got up there and looked
for himself? It couldn't hurt, could it?
Before he could make up a worse-case scenario, he was already walking up the
Marble Staircase, heading in the direction of the Great Hall.
He placed one hand on the huge oak door, to push it open, and was surprised by
what he felt; the whole door was shaking from the thundering applause inside.
He quickly checked his silver pocketwatch. It was a few minutes before twelve;
hopefully they would play some more songs.
He pushed the door open and sneaked inside.
The Great Hall was almost unrecognisable. The staff table was gone; instead of
it was a huge red curtain, currently closed, but Snape suspected it yielded
some kind of stage with the band on it. The long housetables
were also gone; there were about a dozen or so small round tables instead. A
mass of students was grouped near the stage, while most of the teachers were
sitting at the tables. Snape had no desire to join either of them,
he just wanted to listen to the music.
Of course, he had forgotten all about Mary Sue. She skipped in his direction,
waving frantically, dressed in a fantastic Halloween outfit. Being the Mary Sue
she was, the silk dress fitted her as if she had been sewn in it. It showed her
slim waist perfectly, blah blah blah
yaddayaddayadda, you get the picture. Imagine
perfection in a silk dress, that's her.
"You came!" she said cheerfully. "I had almost lost all hope!"
"Let's not jump to conclusions," he replied shortly. "How's
the music?"
"Fantastic! They're really great!" And you're just in time for their
last song!" Snape was beginning to think it was impossible for her to speak
without an exclamation sign at the end of every sentence.
"Really?"
"And they say it's quite romantic!" She winked at him, a typical
Dumbledore-wink. His heart stopped for a micro-second.
"Either you're Dumbledore in disguise, or you're related to him," he wanted to
say, but he was cut off by – a piano. A single note cut the sudden silence.
"They're gonna play!" whispered Mary Sue excitedly.
String joined the piano. The curtain was still closed, so Snape couldn't see
who the band really was, whether it really was a group of students, or –
When a drum joined the other instruments, the curtain opened, to reveal –
"Sweet Merlin, no!" Snape exclaimed. He realised he knew every member of Wands
N' Roses. There, behind the piano, his long red hair covered by something that
looked almost like a handkerchief or a towel, sat Bill Weasley.
Remus Lupin was drumming. With the full moon close,
he had a stubble on his face which made him look quite
sexy (of course, from the author's and the female students' point of view).
Snape had no idea the werewolf could even PLAY an instrument, let alone drum in
a band. Nervously plucking the strings of a electric
guitar was Harry Potter, grinning sheepishly at the screaming Gryffindor girls.
Snape felt slightly disappointed. Was Harry going to do the famous guitar solo?
Please no…
"Good evening ladies and gentleman," said Bill through the microphone,
meanwhile still playing the intro. "Our last number for
tonight. We play this one especially for someone here. It's almost the
first of November, that's why we play, for professor Snape – "
a crooked grin appeared on Bill's face. Snape started to doubt that his
Guns N' Roses fandom was still secret. " – November
Rain."
Mary Sue almost stopped the blood circulation in Snape´s
arm, she was pinching him so hard. "How cute!"
"Shut up, woman," he sneered. Bill took a deep breath, ready for the song.
"When I look into your eyes, I can see a love restrained", sang Bill. Suddenly,
Grabbe and Goyle appeared,
singing as backing vocals. Too stupid to realise how ridiculous they were
looking, they had obediently put on the robes the Gryffindor-bandmembers had given them; bright red with frilly hem.
"But darlin' when I hold you," Bill continued,
cheered on by a mass of girls. "Don't you know I feel the same."
Grabbe and Goyle sang while
Lupin started a louder rhythm. Girls squealed in delight, almost fainting by
the sight of the teacher.
"'Cause nothing lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain.
We've been through this such a long, long time
Just trying' to kill the pain
But lovers always come and lovers always go
And no one's really sure who's letting go today
Walking away
If we could take the time to lay it on the line
I could rest my head
Just knowing that you were mine
All mine."
Mary Sue tried to lay her head on Snape´s shoulder,
but he shook her off, irritably, completely absorbed by the music.
"So if you wanna love me," continued Bill.
Then darlin' don't refrain
Or I'll just end up walking
In the cold November rain.
Do you need some time on your own
Do you need some time all alone
Everybody needs some time on their own
Don't you know you need some time all alone."
Sweat shone visibly on Harry's forehead as he played the more difficult parts
of the song. Snape flinched by the thought of what was coming.
"I know it's hard to keep an open heart
When even friends seem out to harm you
But if you could heal a broken heart
Wouldn't time be out to charm you?"
Snape was ready for torture, when suddenly a second electric guitar
joined Harry's. A man with long black hair joined the boy on the stage. He was
dressed in black, holding a black guitar. Even though his face was completely
hidden by a black hat, Snape knew who he was as if his name had been screamed.
It was Sirius Black!
Showing far more skill in guitar-playing than Harry, Sirius made the guitar cry
and scream. Snape didn't want to admit it, but… okay, just for once, he had to
compliment Black: the guy could play!
"Sometimes I need some time on my own," sang Bill on.
"Sometimes I need some time all alone
Everybody need some time on their own
Don't you know you need some time all alone."
Sirius had a solo again. Snape´s hand
were sweaty. God, the man could play.
"And when your fears subside
And shadows still remain
I know that you can love me
When there's no one left to blame
So never mind the darkness
We still can find a way
Cause nothing lasts forever
Even cold November rain."
The strings joined the quartet again, swaying into a crescendo, then
decrescendo, then it seemed as if the song had ended.
Snape swallowed, Mary Sue standing forgotten next to him. She was idly trying
to draw his attention; this had never happened to her before! Usually, people
were all eyes and ears for her!
Harry, Bill and Lupin played some kind of intro, but everybody knew what was
coming. Everybody was watching Black in anticipation, waiting for him to play
again. And he did. Sweet Merlin, he did…
"Don't ya think that you need somebody," sang a group
of Gryffindors, barely audible through Black's guitar.
"Don't ya think that you need someone
Everybody needs somebody
You're not the only one
You're not the only one."
The sound of the crying guitar died away, and Snape finally managed to draw
breath again. The Great Hall was – for one second – completely silent, then a
roar of enthusiasm as Snape had never before heard, filled the room. "Encore,
encore!" the students cheered. And not only the students.
Glancing at his colleagues, Snape saw McGonagall almost bounce up and down.
Trelawney and Flitwick were also yelling for more,
while Hagrid was applauding so hard it sounded like a
thunderstorm.
And speaking of a thunderstorm…
"Do you hear that?" Snape asked to the person closest to him –
incidentally Mary Sue. Wands N' Roses had just started playing the second part
of November Rain again so she was the only one who could hear him anyway.
"Hear what?" she asked dimly.
"It almost sounded like…" He couldn't finish the sentence, because something
wet was falling on his face. "What the – "
A bolt of lightning suddenly illuminated the enchanted ceiling. The thunder
followed almost immediately after it. And suddenly, enchanted, warm rain came
pouring down on the students, immediately soaking them.
Mary Sue heard a strange sound behind her, something quite unusual. She whirled
around, her wet dress almost glued to her long legs, her blond curly hair sticked to her back. Her mouth dropped when she realised
what she had heard.
Snape was laughing.
Okay, not a stomach-clenching addictive roar or hysterical giggle or something,
but still… a broad smile was on his face, and he held his hands up in the air,
filling them with water.
"Amazing," he said. "As if they'd planned it."
"What?" she asked.
"You know what date it is?" She shook her head in denial. Hey, she had better
things to do! What was she, a walking calendar?! He didn't seem to mind
thought.
"The first of November. So do you know what kind of rain this is?" She shook
her head again. Snape didn't notice it, however, lost as he was in the
sensation of warm water falling on him and the music playing.
"It's November Rain."
~*~*~*~epilogue~*~*~*~
"Mmmm, I'm dry now… and warm…"
"Of course you are, you're in my bed."
Mary Sue turned around to face Snape. "True, love.
Isn't it wonderful?"
"Truly amazing, yes," he replied dryly. "That I let myself be lured into this
situation. Quite astonishing. Of course, I had no
choice."
"What do you mean?"
Snape rolled his eyes and sighed. "I mean, I had no choice. I had
to sleep with the intellectual incompetent creature you are – "Mary Sue smiled
because she thought he'd made her a compliment " – because the author, who will
be killed once I get her, has originally planned it so, and has hinted it on
various occasions. That's what I mean."
"But didn't you like it?" said Mary Sue in a whiny voice, while he jumped out
of bed and put some robes on. He rolled his eyes again when he heard her
question.
"Mary Sue, let me put it this way," he said, meanwhile pulling her out of his
bed. "Did you know there are four types of orgasms?"
"No," she answered truthfully.
"I had already expected that. Let me be so kind as to teach you. The first type
is the positive orgasm; 'o yes, o yes'." He picked up her robes from the ground.
"The second type is the negative orgasm; 'O no, o no'," he continued while
pulling the robe over her head.
"Then there's orgasm number three," he continued while pushing her to the door, "which is the fateful orgasm; 'O God, o God'."
"And the fourth orgasm?" she asked innocently.
"How good of you, you can count!" he complimented her. She smiled thankfully.
"The fourth orgasm, finally, is the faked orgasm, which goes as follows." He
pushed her out of his chambers. "'O Mary Sue, o Mary Sue'.
Now, hoping I have been of some use to you, I bid you good day." He slammed the
door shut, leaving a puzzled and not-understanding Mary Sue to her own
thoughts.
It had been a nice Halloween after all.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!