Gentle readers, since last week we greeted you with a most glorious quote, this week we felt obliged to do the same. This has very little, in fact nothing, to do with the chapter to come at all, but I like it so nyeh.

"Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!"

Chapter 6 – Easy PVCsy

(The Chapter in which we learn Severus's real opinion of PVC)

New Years Eve. The only night of the year that everyone is allowed, nay, expected to stay up until late and cause a ridiculous amount of noise counting down the seconds until the New Year. If I were a Social Anthropologist, I might point out that time is a purely cultural construction, and an attempt to divide the continuous, but, luckily for you and indeed for me, I'm not, so I won't suggest anything of the kind.  A/N: we don't have anything against Social Anthropology …they just don't pay enough attention to monkeys.

It is kind of silly though.

Throughout the world, well the bits in GMT or thereabouts, celebrations were getting underway. In one small cottage, somewhere in remotest France, however, there is one person who seems immune to the plague of 'goodwill to all men' the festive season brings.

"No."

"Oh please. Pretty please. Pretty please with a Fizzing Whizbee on top?"

"No."

"Draco, tell him."

"Uncle Sev, I know what I'm talking about, and these are so cool they're hot. They're so far out there they're practically extraterrestrial. I made them, I should know."

(Now, we aren't the type of author to interrupt the plot simply to inject our opinion in the textual equivalent of an aside, but we would like to point out that Draco is a fashion designer and a Malfoy, so his own sense of self worth allows him to speak in ridiculously outdated, sorry, *vintage* slang. The hangers-on have just made a bad situation worse.)

"Draco, you know that I love you like a son, and I am proud of you, but there is no way on this or any other Earth that I am going to wear those THINGS. It's not done. Snapes do not show emotion, marry below their station and they NEVER wear PVC. Especially not skin tight PVC trousers."

"Spoilsport" cried Draco, his partner in crime Sirius, and every member of the Alan Rickman fan club as Snape used an Incendio to put a stop to that particular argument. The noxious fumes released by the burning plastic would be enough to cause any lesser mortal to pass out, but all three wizards had spent upwards of seven years in Potions and could now shut down their olfactory system at will, and hold their breath for at least twenty minutes.

Several hours of pointless bickering later (but they were so shiny…how could you?), the three companions left, Draco and Sirius wearing the newest fashions with the graceful arrogance that only breeding can produce, managing the impossible task of looking aristocratic in shabby chic. While Severus could never compete with this, we will admit that the greasy git scrubs up nicely.

"Someone remind me why we apparated to Paris?"

"Well Uncle Sev, tonight we're going to party like its 1999!"

"Hold up – it is!"

REFERENCES:

Will Smith – Will 2K

Julius Caesar, by a lesser known author, Wm Shakespeare. Doesn't even have a ff.net account…

Yeah….I know it's not the most sensible of chapters, but fear not, next week get ready for

Chapter 7: In which we learn a bit more about the fate of Percy FitzMalfoy.