"So Minerva." Dumbledore smiled at his pale Deputy Head. "What happened
during that period of time?"
"I - can't - tell - you!!!" Minerva said in a strained voice. Dumbledore frowned.
"Oh? And just why not?" he asked, peevedly! (A/N WOW! I made up a word! I'm so clever!)
"It's a PG-13 story for God's sake! All you youthful readers out there, let your imaginations go wild! I will only say it had something to do with a painful whip and a leather thong."
Harry went pale.
"Ugh! Too Much Information!"
Severus chose that moment to return to full consciousness and discover that he was allergic to serums.
"Damn." he said as he started coughing violently, spraying the students nearest him with blood. "Why couldn't it be peanuts I'm allergic to? I mean NO ONE IN THE BLOODY WORLD LIKES PEANUTS!"
Minerva cleared her throat.
"Ok. So. Uh... Professor Quirrell, truth or dare?" She asked, much to everyone's confusion because he was dead.
"What?" asked Hermione. He died didn't he?
"WHERE IS HE???" Yelled Severus. "I DON'T CARE IF HE'S DEAD! I'LL KILL HIM FOR THAT CAPSULE!!!"
"Jeez, Severus, get a grip will you? The author thought it was funny and gallantly brought me back from the Realms of the Dead and Cheesemakers just for this fic and so she can stalk me. Piss off will you!" Quirrell yelled at the spiritual presence of the author
(Random A/N Heh heh heh!!!)
Quirrell turned back to Minerva.
"Uh... Dare, coz nothing can hurt me; I'm dead." Minerva's eye twitched.
"Oh... bugger. Ok, I dare you to... uh..."
Ron raised an eyebrow.
"You don't play this very often, do you Professor?" he asked sceptically.
"And you do? You sad prick. I feel sorry for you not having anything better to do with your life. In fact, the only reason we're playing it today is because we don't have anything better to do with our lives. Ok... I dare you to dance ballet with the wall!" Minerva said triumphantly, feeling pleased with herself. Ron groaned.
"Professor, have you ever played this at all?" he asked.
"Dunno if it's any of your fucking business but no!" Minerva exploded. Ron looked shocked.
"Jesus Christ calm down woman! I didn't mean it as a sodding insult, you b- "
"That will do, Weasley" Severus sighed despairingly.
Professor Quirrell was not happy. For good reason. In fact, he looked rather embarrassed. His spectral face was as red as a white face can be (not very red, obviously, but whiter than white - bounty fresh and clean! =D) and his eyes were twitching again.
"Uh... I - I" he began nervously. "I don't k-know how to d-d-dance." He stammered. General confusion broke out as a result and one voice was heard above the rest.
"PROFESSOR! YOU'VE GOT YOUR STUTTER BACK!"
Severus responded with a brisk "NO SHIT!" Then he turned to Quirrell, who was looking downright miserable. "Just prance around a bit. Minerva doesn't know how to dance either, so there won't be a difference."
"Hey!" shouted Minerva, and threw a bit of wet kipper at Severus. It missed and hit Draco in the face but no one seemed to care. Quirrell brightened up a bit.
"I can do Cossack." He said pleadingly. Minerva sighed.
"Oh what the heck. Do Cossack if you really want." She settled. Quirrell looked as happy as an unhappy ghost can look and squatted in the beginning position.
Everyone was interested now, because Cossack is that hard Russian dance that hardly anyone can do and they all wanted to make fun of Quirrell when he fell over. There was a dead silence.
Quirrell began to dance Cossack. He must have been taught well because he never missed a step, much to the spectators' disappointment, and his turban made him look like a professional. He stopped, looking flushed with exhaustion but happy. Severus, however, was not so.
"He must have been brought up with the bloody Russians to know that sort of crap!" He snapped.
"Hey!" Quirrell replied meekly. "Quit dissing my family, you asshole."
Snape was too shocked for words.
I mean, does the bastard look Russian to you?
"I - can't - tell - you!!!" Minerva said in a strained voice. Dumbledore frowned.
"Oh? And just why not?" he asked, peevedly! (A/N WOW! I made up a word! I'm so clever!)
"It's a PG-13 story for God's sake! All you youthful readers out there, let your imaginations go wild! I will only say it had something to do with a painful whip and a leather thong."
Harry went pale.
"Ugh! Too Much Information!"
Severus chose that moment to return to full consciousness and discover that he was allergic to serums.
"Damn." he said as he started coughing violently, spraying the students nearest him with blood. "Why couldn't it be peanuts I'm allergic to? I mean NO ONE IN THE BLOODY WORLD LIKES PEANUTS!"
Minerva cleared her throat.
"Ok. So. Uh... Professor Quirrell, truth or dare?" She asked, much to everyone's confusion because he was dead.
"What?" asked Hermione. He died didn't he?
"WHERE IS HE???" Yelled Severus. "I DON'T CARE IF HE'S DEAD! I'LL KILL HIM FOR THAT CAPSULE!!!"
"Jeez, Severus, get a grip will you? The author thought it was funny and gallantly brought me back from the Realms of the Dead and Cheesemakers just for this fic and so she can stalk me. Piss off will you!" Quirrell yelled at the spiritual presence of the author
(Random A/N Heh heh heh!!!)
Quirrell turned back to Minerva.
"Uh... Dare, coz nothing can hurt me; I'm dead." Minerva's eye twitched.
"Oh... bugger. Ok, I dare you to... uh..."
Ron raised an eyebrow.
"You don't play this very often, do you Professor?" he asked sceptically.
"And you do? You sad prick. I feel sorry for you not having anything better to do with your life. In fact, the only reason we're playing it today is because we don't have anything better to do with our lives. Ok... I dare you to dance ballet with the wall!" Minerva said triumphantly, feeling pleased with herself. Ron groaned.
"Professor, have you ever played this at all?" he asked.
"Dunno if it's any of your fucking business but no!" Minerva exploded. Ron looked shocked.
"Jesus Christ calm down woman! I didn't mean it as a sodding insult, you b- "
"That will do, Weasley" Severus sighed despairingly.
Professor Quirrell was not happy. For good reason. In fact, he looked rather embarrassed. His spectral face was as red as a white face can be (not very red, obviously, but whiter than white - bounty fresh and clean! =D) and his eyes were twitching again.
"Uh... I - I" he began nervously. "I don't k-know how to d-d-dance." He stammered. General confusion broke out as a result and one voice was heard above the rest.
"PROFESSOR! YOU'VE GOT YOUR STUTTER BACK!"
Severus responded with a brisk "NO SHIT!" Then he turned to Quirrell, who was looking downright miserable. "Just prance around a bit. Minerva doesn't know how to dance either, so there won't be a difference."
"Hey!" shouted Minerva, and threw a bit of wet kipper at Severus. It missed and hit Draco in the face but no one seemed to care. Quirrell brightened up a bit.
"I can do Cossack." He said pleadingly. Minerva sighed.
"Oh what the heck. Do Cossack if you really want." She settled. Quirrell looked as happy as an unhappy ghost can look and squatted in the beginning position.
Everyone was interested now, because Cossack is that hard Russian dance that hardly anyone can do and they all wanted to make fun of Quirrell when he fell over. There was a dead silence.
Quirrell began to dance Cossack. He must have been taught well because he never missed a step, much to the spectators' disappointment, and his turban made him look like a professional. He stopped, looking flushed with exhaustion but happy. Severus, however, was not so.
"He must have been brought up with the bloody Russians to know that sort of crap!" He snapped.
"Hey!" Quirrell replied meekly. "Quit dissing my family, you asshole."
Snape was too shocked for words.
I mean, does the bastard look Russian to you?