Dedication: To all the little people we had to step on during out steady ascent to greatness, and to Liz' middle school drama teacher, who taught her how to truly be Ms. Hannigan.
Disclaimer: We do not own the line we stole from Friends, the hit musical Annie, any Harry potter characters or concepts, or the faded green leather chair, which we stole from a disheveled potato salesman in Idaho.
The stage lights came up on a large, Sherlock-Holmes style armchair with faded green leather. A table beside bore an old-fashioned radio, which was vamping a vaguely tune, possibly from an old musical. The shelf behind bore various vials of unidentifiable murk, rumored to be fermented Gryffindor brains. As the vamping grew louder, a greasy-haired, black-robed gentleman staggered in clasping what appeared to be a half-empty vodka bottle. As he collapsed into the chair and glared out at the audience, everyone's favorite potion's master opened his mouth and began to sing in a surprisingly high tenor, to the tune of "Little Girls" from Annie.
"Gryffindors, Gryffindors
Everyday they sit in my classroom
Gryffindors, Gryffindors
Every night I wish them a swift doom
I'm a simple potion's master
with hatred
I like a draught of living death now and then
But I'll confess, I've no success
So I'm dealing with those bloody kids again!
Quidditch games
The house cup
How is it they always come in first?
If I get
My hands on Potter
He will end up in the lake headfirst!
Slytherins are a joy to work with,
Ravenclaws are fine although bores,
But one thing I can't stand
A single moment longer is,
Gryffindors!
How I loathe
Longbottom,
Thomas, Weasley,
know-it-all Granger
Someday soon
I'll give up
And become a
stock-exchanger!
Some day
I'll poison their pet toads
Some night
I'll show them the door (Cackles manically),
Voldemort,
Manticores,
Somehow remove them evermore,
Gryffindors!
When I'm finally hearing them screaming,
I'll surely request an encore,
Till then I dream
Even scheme
To plot elimination of,
Gryffindors."
Exhausted from this outburst of shocking musical talent, Snape flopped ungracefully back into the chair, we he promptly began to snore.
A frighteningly familiar voice boomed out across the stage.
"Oh goodie, drunk Snape is so much more fun than regular Snape!" Morag exclaimed.
"How would you know?"
"Well, I do write other fanfiction, you know…" From her voice, one got the distinct impression that she was both smirking and had an evil glint in her eye.
"Okay, that's just creepy."