Hello! Hey its 1:25 in the morning and the night is still young so I
decided to write another chapter! I hope you like this one, its longer
then the others. I will wait to post it so I can read through it when it
isn't so late or so early. However you put it. Please review! This is
the longest chapter yet.
Welcome stranger, but remember, I don't own this; I'm just a member, For those who flame, who like to burn, Must pay dearly in their turn, So if you seek beyond the song, Please review for these chapters take long, But flamers you have been warned, beware, Of finding more then insanity there.
mun012390: Wow! THANK YOU!!!
Fireblade K'Chona: IT'S...
Destiny13: Thank you!!!
Chapter 5...
Footsteps. They approached the door. She could feel her heart jump into her throat. Icy shivers went through her like lightning. She heard a noise, a noise like a clock that has been stuffed with cotton. Thump. Thump. Her face turned paper white. The door came open and she let out a scream as the shadow of darkness floated in.
The shadow of darkness, formally known as Professor Sniv-uh-hum Snape, had come by Dumbledore's commands. The ministry had sent a health inspector to inspect the school not to long ago and the eccentric Headmaster was told that the only unhealthy thing in the castle was Snape himself. Snape was not amused. Only two days later, he found himself on his way to the psychiatrist office to discuss his shampoo, soap, water, tub and shower phobias. He opened the door to hear a shriek and yelled out of shock as well.
The pounding of her beating heart could only be matched by the pounding of drums at a rock concert. She looked upon the shadow of darkness. Stench filled her nostrils. Grease dripped from his hair. Lice clouded her vision. She found herself in a dark room. Shaking with fear, she looked around. She saw a bright light. "Don't follow the light", she gasped. She pulled herself away from the brightness and found herself back in a room with the evil potions master. Still feeling nauseous, she pulled a cloth over her nose, hoping to keep some of the stench out. "Well good morning Snape", she managed to gasp. "What are you in for?" She felt as if she had asked the most obvious question on earth.
"The Headmaster seems to think that I do not bathe enough."
"When was the last time you took a bath?"
"Why would I waist my time taking a bath when I could spend it teaching the next generation the art of potion making."
"You've never taken a bath?"
"Not since I can remember."
"May I be so bold to ask why?"
"I have no reason to tell."
"You will unless you want a group of rabid, Snape-loving reviewers set out on you. I have powers beyond what puny potion masters can comprehend. Or of course I could lock you in a room with Percy Weasley and...
"It started when I got a fear of shampoo. My mother liked the smell of shampoo and thus poured it unto goblets and set them up all over our house and one night when I went to bed, it attacked. The goblet that was set on the shelf over my bed tipped over and tried to drown me in thick, strawberry, syrupy shampoo. My mother claimed that it was an accident, but I knew from then on that shampoo was evil and fatal." Snape hung his head in shame. Grease dripped onto his lap. "That Potter always had clean hair. It's not fair. Nobody ever understands me. Everyone hates me because I'm the evil potions master and I smell. They don't care to even try to make friends with me and at least try to ignore the way I smell." Evil-elf decided to be a bit more sympathetic towards him.
"Well let's start on the road to recovery. Snape I'm going to conjure a bottle of head and shoulders shampoo and you are going to sit calmly and hold it for five minutes." Evil-elf then reconsidered this. Knowing Snape, he was sure to curse the bottle before the five minutes were over. She had to try. Whipping out her wand, she transfigured a picture of Weasleys, with holes in it, unto a hole-free bottle of shampoo. Snape took it with shaking fingers. Without two minutes having gone by the Hogwarts teacher had screamed at it, thrown it across the room, used the killing curse on it, used a charm the psychiatrist didn't quite catch, but knew it sounded painful on it and stomped on it. "Well at least you are venting your anger out on something other then Harry." Snape smiled a satisfactory smile and sat back down on the couch. "Now Snape, lets try another approach. For every proved reason that shampoo is evil, I want you to throw a dart at this picture of Harry." She pulled out a Harry Potter poster and taped it to the wall. "If you can not come up with five proved reasons that shampoo is evil within the next ten minutes, then you have to take a shower. For every dart you miss, you have to think of another reason. If you can then you will never have to be bothered about it again." Snape picked up the pile of darts beside him.
"Reason one is because it attacked me in my youth." He let the first dart fly and hit Harry on the nose. "Reason two is-uh is it smells funny!" The next dart hit Harry's glasses. "Reason three is that those filthy marauders used shampoo." This dart hit Harry's scar. The poster Harry was screaming for his life. "Reason four is um well-uhhh", he glanced at the clock, one minute left. "Reason four is-umm some shampoos are pink!" The next dart hit Harry's chin. "Reason five is-uhh..."
"DING", cried the psychiatrist. "You have to take a bath!" she sang. Snape fell to the floor and cried. "Now go and I expect to see you tomorrow clean and with clean clothes." Snape sobbed as he exited the room and climbed the stairs. Once he entered the great hall he walked past Harry. The boy-who-lived watched as his professor and enemy sob and walk towards his quarters. Harry shook his head feeling very scared and skipped off to tell Hermione and Ron.
Evil-elf gagged in disgust as the made the grease disappear. At least it would be worth having to endure close to half an hour with Snape to see how he looked the next day. Though she wondered if the shampoo would do any good. It first had to reach his hair to clean it. She sighed, leaned back on her chair and looked at the poster at Harry who was glaring at her. She then slowly fell asleep and into a dream about clean potion masters, an individualized Weasley, Creeveys without Harry, a happy Draco and the boy who lived running for his life from darts. It was a good dream.
Welcome stranger, but remember, I don't own this; I'm just a member, For those who flame, who like to burn, Must pay dearly in their turn, So if you seek beyond the song, Please review for these chapters take long, But flamers you have been warned, beware, Of finding more then insanity there.
mun012390: Wow! THANK YOU!!!
Fireblade K'Chona: IT'S...
Destiny13: Thank you!!!
Chapter 5...
Footsteps. They approached the door. She could feel her heart jump into her throat. Icy shivers went through her like lightning. She heard a noise, a noise like a clock that has been stuffed with cotton. Thump. Thump. Her face turned paper white. The door came open and she let out a scream as the shadow of darkness floated in.
The shadow of darkness, formally known as Professor Sniv-uh-hum Snape, had come by Dumbledore's commands. The ministry had sent a health inspector to inspect the school not to long ago and the eccentric Headmaster was told that the only unhealthy thing in the castle was Snape himself. Snape was not amused. Only two days later, he found himself on his way to the psychiatrist office to discuss his shampoo, soap, water, tub and shower phobias. He opened the door to hear a shriek and yelled out of shock as well.
The pounding of her beating heart could only be matched by the pounding of drums at a rock concert. She looked upon the shadow of darkness. Stench filled her nostrils. Grease dripped from his hair. Lice clouded her vision. She found herself in a dark room. Shaking with fear, she looked around. She saw a bright light. "Don't follow the light", she gasped. She pulled herself away from the brightness and found herself back in a room with the evil potions master. Still feeling nauseous, she pulled a cloth over her nose, hoping to keep some of the stench out. "Well good morning Snape", she managed to gasp. "What are you in for?" She felt as if she had asked the most obvious question on earth.
"The Headmaster seems to think that I do not bathe enough."
"When was the last time you took a bath?"
"Why would I waist my time taking a bath when I could spend it teaching the next generation the art of potion making."
"You've never taken a bath?"
"Not since I can remember."
"May I be so bold to ask why?"
"I have no reason to tell."
"You will unless you want a group of rabid, Snape-loving reviewers set out on you. I have powers beyond what puny potion masters can comprehend. Or of course I could lock you in a room with Percy Weasley and...
"It started when I got a fear of shampoo. My mother liked the smell of shampoo and thus poured it unto goblets and set them up all over our house and one night when I went to bed, it attacked. The goblet that was set on the shelf over my bed tipped over and tried to drown me in thick, strawberry, syrupy shampoo. My mother claimed that it was an accident, but I knew from then on that shampoo was evil and fatal." Snape hung his head in shame. Grease dripped onto his lap. "That Potter always had clean hair. It's not fair. Nobody ever understands me. Everyone hates me because I'm the evil potions master and I smell. They don't care to even try to make friends with me and at least try to ignore the way I smell." Evil-elf decided to be a bit more sympathetic towards him.
"Well let's start on the road to recovery. Snape I'm going to conjure a bottle of head and shoulders shampoo and you are going to sit calmly and hold it for five minutes." Evil-elf then reconsidered this. Knowing Snape, he was sure to curse the bottle before the five minutes were over. She had to try. Whipping out her wand, she transfigured a picture of Weasleys, with holes in it, unto a hole-free bottle of shampoo. Snape took it with shaking fingers. Without two minutes having gone by the Hogwarts teacher had screamed at it, thrown it across the room, used the killing curse on it, used a charm the psychiatrist didn't quite catch, but knew it sounded painful on it and stomped on it. "Well at least you are venting your anger out on something other then Harry." Snape smiled a satisfactory smile and sat back down on the couch. "Now Snape, lets try another approach. For every proved reason that shampoo is evil, I want you to throw a dart at this picture of Harry." She pulled out a Harry Potter poster and taped it to the wall. "If you can not come up with five proved reasons that shampoo is evil within the next ten minutes, then you have to take a shower. For every dart you miss, you have to think of another reason. If you can then you will never have to be bothered about it again." Snape picked up the pile of darts beside him.
"Reason one is because it attacked me in my youth." He let the first dart fly and hit Harry on the nose. "Reason two is-uh is it smells funny!" The next dart hit Harry's glasses. "Reason three is that those filthy marauders used shampoo." This dart hit Harry's scar. The poster Harry was screaming for his life. "Reason four is um well-uhhh", he glanced at the clock, one minute left. "Reason four is-umm some shampoos are pink!" The next dart hit Harry's chin. "Reason five is-uhh..."
"DING", cried the psychiatrist. "You have to take a bath!" she sang. Snape fell to the floor and cried. "Now go and I expect to see you tomorrow clean and with clean clothes." Snape sobbed as he exited the room and climbed the stairs. Once he entered the great hall he walked past Harry. The boy-who-lived watched as his professor and enemy sob and walk towards his quarters. Harry shook his head feeling very scared and skipped off to tell Hermione and Ron.
Evil-elf gagged in disgust as the made the grease disappear. At least it would be worth having to endure close to half an hour with Snape to see how he looked the next day. Though she wondered if the shampoo would do any good. It first had to reach his hair to clean it. She sighed, leaned back on her chair and looked at the poster at Harry who was glaring at her. She then slowly fell asleep and into a dream about clean potion masters, an individualized Weasley, Creeveys without Harry, a happy Draco and the boy who lived running for his life from darts. It was a good dream.