Chapter two
Ah! How wrong Big Nev was, Harry thought as he drove his sleek Jaguar through the streets, (stopping to wave at Madame Rosmerta who he enjoyed a guilt-free relationship with), listening to the echoing evil laughter of the revenge-seeking Big Nev. How wrong, now that world-renowned womaniser Harry Potter was on the case.
Snape wanted to laugh evilly, as was his trait, he wanted to sneer or smirk or raise an eyebrow but, quite honestly, he just didn't feel like it. There was a time to be evil, and there was a time to sulk. And, locked in a cellar, it was a time to do the latter. Snape crossed his arms, let his greasy (yet now stylish) hair fall around his sallow (but now slightly tanned) face and hmphed his way through the night.
Hermione knew when she was needed, when her sexy glances, her smooth innuendo, and her fluttering eyelashes were invaluable to the cause, and such a time had come. Big Nev would be like putty in her fake-nail super- smooth hands. Before, she was bookish Hermione Granger, the girl no-one really liked because no-one really cared (or, as Hermione used to say, because they were all gay), but now, with help from the big-nosed cockroach, Hermione Granger surpassed even Fleur in seduction. Fleur, pah! What a fake!
Trevor was becoming impatient, it was true. Not even the murder of gangsters could satisfy his need for blood. Some said he was the incarnation of the Dark Lord, some said he was just a very lonely toad, others that Neville was a very sick person. He croaked noisily. Big Nev checked on his extensive range of rifles, explosives and poisons before turning in. Unbeknownst to him, Trevor had hopped out, and was now seeking out the Potions Master, all by his toad-ish self.
At three am in the morning, Severus Snape was shocked to find a rather large, green and angry toad sitting in his shoe.
AN – thank you for your reviews, reviewers. Yes, I am a little strange, seek refuge in the fact that I don't utterly believe in everything that I write. Please, any worries, phone the nearest asylum.
Ah! How wrong Big Nev was, Harry thought as he drove his sleek Jaguar through the streets, (stopping to wave at Madame Rosmerta who he enjoyed a guilt-free relationship with), listening to the echoing evil laughter of the revenge-seeking Big Nev. How wrong, now that world-renowned womaniser Harry Potter was on the case.
Snape wanted to laugh evilly, as was his trait, he wanted to sneer or smirk or raise an eyebrow but, quite honestly, he just didn't feel like it. There was a time to be evil, and there was a time to sulk. And, locked in a cellar, it was a time to do the latter. Snape crossed his arms, let his greasy (yet now stylish) hair fall around his sallow (but now slightly tanned) face and hmphed his way through the night.
Hermione knew when she was needed, when her sexy glances, her smooth innuendo, and her fluttering eyelashes were invaluable to the cause, and such a time had come. Big Nev would be like putty in her fake-nail super- smooth hands. Before, she was bookish Hermione Granger, the girl no-one really liked because no-one really cared (or, as Hermione used to say, because they were all gay), but now, with help from the big-nosed cockroach, Hermione Granger surpassed even Fleur in seduction. Fleur, pah! What a fake!
Trevor was becoming impatient, it was true. Not even the murder of gangsters could satisfy his need for blood. Some said he was the incarnation of the Dark Lord, some said he was just a very lonely toad, others that Neville was a very sick person. He croaked noisily. Big Nev checked on his extensive range of rifles, explosives and poisons before turning in. Unbeknownst to him, Trevor had hopped out, and was now seeking out the Potions Master, all by his toad-ish self.
At three am in the morning, Severus Snape was shocked to find a rather large, green and angry toad sitting in his shoe.
AN – thank you for your reviews, reviewers. Yes, I am a little strange, seek refuge in the fact that I don't utterly believe in everything that I write. Please, any worries, phone the nearest asylum.