A/N: Ok, sooooooooo sorry for the delay. That can be put down to my
laziness I guess. But sorry all the same and I hope my next chapter doesn't
take so long. I realise the story is getting silly at bits, which a few of
you have pointed out to me. But I never really intended this to be serious,
so any silliness is therefor intentional. Though I do agree I need to make
the story actually go somewhere WITH all the silliness. That may or may not
actually happen. But you'll just have to see how it pans out. This chapter
is for all the little Harry potter kids! Lol. In other words Me, Joanne,
Annah and Izzy. BUT HERE YOU GO JOEL! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW! HERE IS YOUR
BLOODY CHAPTER! NOW READ IT! LOL. Hope you guys like it.
I'd like to thank EVERYBODY for reviewing, but, unfortunately, again, I only have a few minutes to post this and then scoot, lol, so I can't thank you individually. So sorry about that, as I don't think I've ever thanked you all one by one, maybe next time I will have a chance to.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I have no little bit to put in here that is remotely funny. So, alas I shall be forced to use this for an actual disclaimer. *Sighs* I do NOT own any of the- What's this? My hands have suddenly become severely deformed and can't type a disclaimer! What a coincidence! Oh well, on with the story.
Chapter Nine:
McGonagalls "sexy, sexy" secret, recommended no strings attached sex and the lavatory ban
Hermione was left wondering whether there was any actual truth behind what Ron had said, but, considering how loosely he used the phrase, she was pretty sure there wasn't.
"Damn his sarcastic use of the English language!"
Hermione had said this aloud, and Ron turned around.
"What was that, Hermione?"
"ER-I said, Damn you're arse look sexy.
Hermione mentally slapped herself.
"Why thank you. I have been doing my butt exercises. I squeeze really tight, and then I let go, I squeeze really tight, and then I let go."
And with that, Ron walked away.
"There's only one thing to do at a time like this," Ron thought to himself, strut!"
Hagrid exited his hut just as Ron reached Harry, which was probably a good thing considering the expression on Harry's face was somewhat PMS-like. Ron feared if he said anything he'd be engulfed in a wave of tears and exposed to a lecture arguing how it feels to be a woman.
"H've yer brought yer text books?" Hagrid asked cheerfully.
The majority of the class nodded and Hagrid began a-not-so-thrilling lesson on house-elf sexuality. It wouldn't have been so disturbing if he hadn't provided detailed descriptions, overheads and videos, which, Hermione was sure, were not under the Ministry's regulations. That Hagrid sure knew how to bring up your breakfast.
The final video began:
"A few months ago, dobby the house elf discovered a few changes in himself:
*Growing *The appearance of acne *And Hair, where there was no hair before
He also noticed, Winky the house elf."
Some time passed during the video, and Ron glanced over at Hermione.
"I like my beer cold...my TV loud...and my homosexuals flaming."
"Ron, nobody said anything about homosexuals"
"Oh, sorry, my bad."
".And then came the honeymoon!"
"Ewwww"
"She's fakin' it!" Hagrid boomed.
"9 months later, Winky gave birth to 12 beautiful babies- 9 survived."
The video came to an end and Hagrid turned to the students.
"And that, class," Hagrid said as the bell sounded, "Is how little house elves are made.
*** They made their way to Transfiguration a little less naive than earlier that morning to complete their exam. Once done, they then moved off to Potions in one of the Dungeons.
"I'd say that performance was transcendent" Hermione conveyed to Ron on their way to class.
"How about, groin grabbingly transcendent!?"
"No Ron."
"Ok, we make a good team, a groin grabbingly good team!"
*** Professor Snape had them all seated in single rows because of the excitement the completion of the transfiguration exam was causing. It wasn't just the regular excitement either. Sexual excitement is apparently contagious and before Snape could do anything to stop it people were kissing and humping desk legs all over the classroom- particularly Ron. Though he could not be blamed, team a hormone-influenced male with a wooden desk leg with and your pretty much asking for some shameless thrusting.
Once the raging hormones had settled down (given that they were all at the peak of their adolescence this took a surprisingly short time.) Hermione leaned over her desk and asked Neville if he would mind passing a note up to Ron. Neville's one weakness was Hermione.well, that and everything else, so naturally he complied. He passed the note from Hermonie up the line of single rows to Lavender, who passed it to Pavarti, who passed it to Seamus, who passed it to Dean, who passed it to Harry who then passed it onto Ron.
Ron opened the note and read to himself:
"Guess who likes you?"
Ron turned around, trying to figure out who the letter was from. Neville waved at him. Rob shuddered.
He dipped his quill back into his inkbottle and wrote a note to Neville. Ron passed the note back down the aisle and Neville opened it. It read: Booger.
Neville thought this odd, as, to his knowledge, the current topic was completely irrelevant to boogers, but pocketed the note anyway.
Professor Snape saw Neville open the note and, as he regularly did, went over to commence bulling him like a 7-year-old.
"Long-bottom, hand that note over."
"Note?" Neville's said, sounding like his balls hadn't dropped yet, "What note?"
"Do you think me stupid?" Snape bared his teeth and raised his hands like claws in an attempt to look scary, like a ferocious bear, but ended up looking like a special Ed student in dire need of dental treatment.
"Oh, this. This isn't a note.it's. -ER-, it's a. compact, oddly light, slightly explosive paper weight made of.paper."
"Oh really?" Snape said, dropping the bear look and opting for the less is more but alfoil shoes are better conductors of electricity look.
"Yes.it's used for.paper weighting things..mostly paper, and or paper products."
"Stop procrastinating Long-bottom."
"Yes, sir"
"Hand over the.paper weight" Snape said, now opting for, best not to scare the students while they control your bank balance look.
And now came what all staff members say they would never do but always do it anyway.
"Guess who likes you?" Snape read aloud.
Hermione raised her hand to object.
"You?" Snape said, shocked.
"No, sir, I just think that-"
"And all along I thought you liked that Weasley kid!"
"Hermione likes Ron" The class sang
"She does not!" Neville protested
"Neville likes Hermione!"
"He does not!" Pavarti objected
"Pavarti likes Neville"
"She does not!" Dean yelled
"Dean likes Neville!"
"Shut up- nobody likes Neville!" Snape yelled, "You all will receive detention for this out burst, and, if this occurs again, consider your selves banned from the lavatory!"
"But sir!" Malfoy whined
"Shut it Draco!"
"But no Slytherins said anything-"
This was odd for Snape to respond in such a way to a Slytherin, but since McGonagall and himself had become an item he now resented anyone under 40.
"-You ALL will receive detention tonight, my office at 7:00 sharp. And if you forget-"
As Snape was about to finish his threats a barn owl swooped into the classroom and threw a letter at Snape, hitting him in the eye.
Snape opened the letter and read to himself.
He looked thoroughly disappointed (and yet somehow pleasantly surprised) as he turned to the class.
"Change of plans, 7:00 sharp.at a restaurant specifically made up for this occasion when nothing else appealed much."
"Wow, I've heard of that place" Pavarti whispered to Lavender in a I'm just making background noise voice.
"Sir," Hermione raised her hand.
"Oh what is it now Granger." Snape had been experiencing a mild form of PMS of late, probably due to all the hormone tablets McGonagall had him on for no particular reason.
"Why will we be dinning at a restaurant specifically made up for this occasion when nothing else appealed much?"
"YOU, aren't dinning there, YOU'LL all be sitting in the gutter. I'm dinning there with."
"Oh, we all know about you a Professor McGonagall." Seamus pointed out.
"We- what! We're not..we're not doing anything of the sort!"
"Apart from that note, which is obviously from her, we have Polaroids"
Hermione handed over the photos. Snape gasped for air, and then Hermione snatched them back.
"Behold!" Hermione said, standing on her desk and holding the Polaroids over her head. "The blow up doll incident!"
Apparently Snape and McGonagall had paid a little visit to one of the most well know sex shops in all of Britain, and hadn't been very discrete about it either. The photos clearly conveyed what was going on in a quick reminder of what you had for breakfast kind of way.
There were so many stomach-churning moments at Hogwarts, 2 being the daily minimum, that it wasn't surprising that most of the students had stomachs of bulimic's.
If the pictures hadn't been moving, you could have passed it off as bad lighting, but they were DEFINIETLY moving.
At this point, Snape, sprawled out on the floor, was presumed dead.or passed out. This didn't really concern the class much, as a new potions teacher would have been looked upon as somewhat of a blessing, but alas, he stirred and stood up.
"Give me those!" Snape grabbed the photos, walked over to his desk, and started to burn them, feeling as if he had just solved the problem.
Hermione looked at Ron, then pointed to her top pocket. Ron, being as thick as he is, just thought she was pointing at her boob.
"What? New bra?"
"No you idiot!"
Ron looked again and noticed a whole stack of the photos in her pocket.
"There," Snape said, dusting his hands after he swallowed the ashes as an extra precaution, "now, I'd like to see you prove anything now, Miss Granger."
"Wow sir, I guess you win." Hermione said sarcastically.
"Yes, I guess I do."
"Come on sir. We aren't stupid." Seamus Finnagin resumed the argument.
"Oh, on the contrary, you are. And if I happen to be dinning at the same restaurant as Professor McGonagall, and she just happens to walk over and sit across the table from me then that's just pure coincidence!"
"We know that note is from her, Sir!"
"Note, what note!"
"The one on your desk!"
"That's no note..that's one of those paper weights that Long-bottom has, I ordered it just moments ago!"
"Please, Sir! Look at the packaging!" Seamus leaned forward so he could read the address aloud: " Severus Snape, The Dungeons, In the eye. Love Minerva"
Seamus snatched the letter from Snape's desk and read aloud:
"Dearest Severus,
It sure is a good thing that no one, particularly Seamus Finnagin is going to be picking this up from your desk and distracting the other students in your class, Severus, because I'm about to tell you something quiet personal. I love your greasy hair and your "just came back from the morgue" looks. I'd like to invite you to a restaurant specifically made up for this occasion when nothing else appealed much at 7:00 tonight. We'll eat there, then later, come back to my place and-"
Snape snatched the letter back from Seamus
"Mr Finnagin!" Snape yelled, livid, "You can consider yourself banned from the boys lavatory until the end of this month!"
Seamus remained clam and smirked.
"And that means no evacuation via your balcony either!"
Seamus swallowed, hard.
The bell rang and Snape now resumed his bear impression (but this time with hissing and head banging) and the class left without hesitation. McGonagall sure had had a strange affect on him. Harry assumed it was the sex, Hermione assumed it the romance, and Ron assumed nothing, which wasn't all that surprising. Ron rarely thought, unless absolutely necessary. And considering affairs of the heart, particularly Snape's heart, didn't have anything to do with him, he was pretty disconcerted with it.
He had, however, been doing a lot of thinking concerning Hermione. He liked Hermione, Hermione liked him, but there was something in the way, a barrier of some sort, otherwise known as clothing.
This clothing sure was a bloody nuisance, Ron thought.
But that wasn't the only thing bothering him. Aside from the clothing, it wasn't just a sexual thing, predominantly, yes, but not completely. Ron wasn't sure if it was the testosterone talking, but he thought he might just be in love.
"Hey Harry?" Ron began.
"Yessssssssss"
"Why are you talking like that?"
"I had a stroooooooooke"
"That's great. Now listen. I love Her-"
"Hey guys! What are you talking about?" Hermione said, appearing out of what was probably thin air.
"ER- I love Her.Herpes! Yes, that'll do. I love having Herpes!"
"You have Herpes?" Hermione said, taking a step back.
"Yes."
"Really?"
"No"
"Well, that's a relief."
Harry was looking depressed again.
"Is this about Sirus?" Hermione asked genuinely.
Harry shook his head, but Ron continued anyway.
"Don't let Sirus' death get you down, Harry. People die all the time, just like that. Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow."
Hermione glared at him.
"I mean, it was such a tragedy. We all miss Sirus Harry, but he died a most likely painful death. Though he may be struggling to live. Maybe he just fell behind the curtain and onto a hot poker. Maybe he's still there, guts pouring out everywhere, head hanging on by a thread-"
"Ron!"
"What? I'm just opening him up to the possibilities!"
"Well your possibilities are causing Harry extreme emotional trauma. Maybe we should get him some counselling?"
"Counselling!" Ron said, outraged, "This boy doesn't need therapy, he needs a series of no strings attached one night stands!"
"This isn't about Sirus! But thanks for opening old wounds! This is about Ginny and Malfoy!"
"Oh." Ron suddenly lost interest. He didn't like talking about Ginny THAT way.
"They wont last Harry," Hermione said, ".At least he won't be at the burrow. You can tell Ginny how you feel, and he won't be around to screw it up."
"Yeah, I guess killing will be fun enough"
"killing!"
"ER- did I say killing? I meant.spilling! Spilling my feelings will be fun enough."
"Yes.well. As long as you're happy. But I'm serious, Harry, it's all going to work out in somebodies favour."
"And what the hell is that supposed to mean!?"
"I don't know! You can't expect me to be intellectual all the time!"
"I guess you're right."
Of course I am, I always am. And if I'm not, I'm mistaken."
"How do you figure?"
"Figure what?"
"That you're always right."
"Because everybody tells me to be. And you should always give into peer pressure."
"But what if somebody really bad is trying to-"
"Always"
At this point in their conversation, Ron was pacing several steps ahead; he didn't know whether it was safe to risk slowing down and hearing some thing terribly disturbing about his sister. He had no idea they had already moved onto Hermione's questionable intelligence.
"Hey guys-"
Ron had turned around to speak to the duo when he ran into an oddly placed house elf carrying a platter or food for the faculty. (It was common knowledge that the staff at Hogwarts mail-ordered every meal. Though the house elves looked like they produced quality food, the reality was far less sanitary.)
The slate of food fell on top of the house elf, squashing him to what could only be assumed as his death. There was a standard brief moment of silence for the mourning of yet another servant (elf mortality rates had sky rocketed due to platter accidents such as these.) Dumbledore had ordered there be at least a 2.45-second mourning for every elf killed delivering their meals. Dumbledore was stingy with a lot of things, school supplies, toilet paper, sufficiently qualified staff, but his 2.45 second mourning rate was his lowest yet.
Having already mentioned Harry, Ron, and every other teenage male's obsession with constant eating, I need not to convey their individual thoughts.
"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Harry asked Ron between mouthfuls of stolen staff food.
"Read your town charter, Harry. If foodstuff should touch the ground, said foodstuff shall be turned over to the village idiot. Since I don't see him around, start shovelling!"
Ron and Harry shamelessly knelt over the platter on all fours and ate the faculty lunch while Hermione disapproved and leant against the hall wall. Though Harry thought he saw her take a few mouthfuls herself, but whilst in the spasms of eating stolen food the mind tends to get a bit foggy.
While the trio was in the hallway, the staff grew impatient. The Great Hall was full of food, students we eating their dinner and the they had to watch.
Snape nearly lunged at one of the platters on the student's table when Dumbledore reached out and stopped him.
"No, Severus, it's not worth it."
"Oh, but it is!" Snape whined.
Some students turned to watch the dilemma.
"Don't sink so low to eating this substandard mush conjured up out of rubbish bins-"
Dumbledore realised the eyes on him.
"-ER, what I mean to say is, don't sink so low as to eating the students food!" Dumbledore grew confident in his cover up, "I mean, stealing! How could you?! Haven't you learned anything from that guy who gives those sermons at church? Captain What's-his-name?" -At this point Dumbledore had seemed to have forgotten that Witchcraft's traditional Religion was based around Satanic Rituals
The students returned to eating their mush and were none the wiser.
"When is our lunch getting here damn it!" Snape yelled, slamming his fists on the table. The table soon erupted in a din of babble, which was probably completely unrelated anyway.
McGonagall had had enough at this point and withdrew from the table promising to come back with explanations, leaving Snape (but not before secretly slipping a few hormone tablets into his goblet of pumpkin juice) and the rest of the staff in a pre-lunch depression.
She suspected the house elves were planning another revolt- they were always planning revolts.
McGonagall often came off as a stern and strict woman who really had a heart of gold underneath, but really she was just an old bitch and wanted her lunch just as much -possibly even more- than Snape.
As the wrinkly unfed professor rounded another corner she stumbled across one of the many shameless secrets that was played out on a weekly basis at Hogwarts- Neville long-bottom was stealing mops from the storage closet- again.
"Mr Long-bottom!" The professor tried to sound shocked, but Neville was a repeat offender, particularly concerning the mops, and just as she was about to commence another lecture when Dean Thomas was spotted on all fours in the storage closet- cramming clods of dirt into his mouth.
"Mr Thomas!" Now this was genuine shock, she hadn't known about Dean's dirt addiction, but she shouldn't have expected any better from one of Hogwarts most emotionally unstable students.
"Explain yourself, both of you!"
"Um, well." Neville began, "ER- look, your shoes laces are untied!"
"They appear to be tied from here, but I will go in for a closer look."
"RUN DEAN!
And with that the two boys ran down the hall, arms flailing, legs kicking all the way to their dormitory.
"On closer inspection- these are loafers" McGonagall said as she straightened up again.
Now, her personal motto being "I'd rather let 100 guilty men go than chase after them", it's no wonder she wasn't in hot pursuit of the boys.
This philosophy had only been put to use 15 years ago, before that, the young- well, younger- McGonagall, being the agile 40 something year old that she was, would have given them a run for their money. But now a days she was more likely to sit on her arse and picture superheroes naked while her opponents made a speedy get away. It's because of this new found laziness, other wise known as slipping into the middle aged category, that she had become a pro at undressing people with her eyes. McGonagall had become so skilled at this perverted art that she could undress anybody, anywhere, anytime.
Once upon a time this had been a well-kept secret, and put to good use in at most every occasion. But somehow it had got out, and now every time McGonagall's pupils dilated and her mouth sagged at an oddly obtuse angle everyone in sight backed away, covering their "sensitive" areas with whatever was handy- usually Hermione's head, which proved to create a few compromising situations.
On pondering this thought McGonagall made a mental note to undress people more often- for no apparent reason. She was currently on a tally- 2 nude students per day, minimum, and a nude staff member if time permitted it.
But these standards were pretty unrealistic, because everybody knew of her sexy, sexy secret, that granted, there were plenty of people to undress around these parts. Being in the wizarding world had countless advantages: access to old age pensions at 25, virtually permitted adolescent mayhem, and, of course, the abundance of sexy, sexy people.
McGonagall refused to see this acquired trait as a flaw. Instead, she looked upon it as a misunderstood gift, granted to those only with copious amounts of spare time and a dirty, dirty mind- all of which she, McGonagall, possessed.
She rounded yet another corner with her thoughts on the possible events that night would hold when she rounded too far and ran into the wall. Feeling extremely unco at this point, McGonagall silently prayed that she was hallucinating when Harry, Hermione and Ron's faces came into view.
Once her vision corrected itself she noticed the scene in front of her was somewhat unusual, to say the least.
Ron, sprawled out on his stomach, his face in a pile of food, was trying to communicate something, but this was incoherent-splutters to her, as he was trying to speak through 10 centimetres of heavily seasoned mashed potato. She managed to decipher:
"Please kill me, every moment is agony"
Hermione, who had previously been taking on the responsible and sensible role, was now sitting up against the wall, hands held over stomach, head flung back and wearing a facemask of chicken skin and rice.
And Harry, who, by rights, should have passed out from indigestion ages ago was still cramming pie into his mouth. This over eating was probably a reaction to his love life, or lack there of. If you thought only girl's loose control and binge eat, then maybe you should consider questioning Harry's gender.
"What the devil is going on!"
This outburst brought the trio back to reality, particularly Ron, who began choking on his mountain of potato.
"Well? I want the truth!"
Unable to make a speedy get away because they feared if they even stood their entire digestive system would fall through their underpants Ron began some insane rambling.
"You want the truth; you can't handle the truth! I'm not out of order, the whole friggen systems out of order! Forget it McGonagall, it's china town!"
"Shut it, Weasley!"
"Yes, Miss."
***
A/N: OK, let me know what you think. I know this chapter was a zillion times longer than the others, but I don't know whether that's a good thing. If you want me to continue doing long chapters, then your going to have to wait A LOT longer for updates. Tell me whether you think this one is as funny as the others, I think I'm loosing it really. Nothing really seems that funny any more- but that's probably because of all the shit year 11 involves. Education sucks! Oh why oh why did I not get a job?! lol . Anyways, hope you enjoyed R/R!
I'd like to thank EVERYBODY for reviewing, but, unfortunately, again, I only have a few minutes to post this and then scoot, lol, so I can't thank you individually. So sorry about that, as I don't think I've ever thanked you all one by one, maybe next time I will have a chance to.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I have no little bit to put in here that is remotely funny. So, alas I shall be forced to use this for an actual disclaimer. *Sighs* I do NOT own any of the- What's this? My hands have suddenly become severely deformed and can't type a disclaimer! What a coincidence! Oh well, on with the story.
Chapter Nine:
McGonagalls "sexy, sexy" secret, recommended no strings attached sex and the lavatory ban
Hermione was left wondering whether there was any actual truth behind what Ron had said, but, considering how loosely he used the phrase, she was pretty sure there wasn't.
"Damn his sarcastic use of the English language!"
Hermione had said this aloud, and Ron turned around.
"What was that, Hermione?"
"ER-I said, Damn you're arse look sexy.
Hermione mentally slapped herself.
"Why thank you. I have been doing my butt exercises. I squeeze really tight, and then I let go, I squeeze really tight, and then I let go."
And with that, Ron walked away.
"There's only one thing to do at a time like this," Ron thought to himself, strut!"
Hagrid exited his hut just as Ron reached Harry, which was probably a good thing considering the expression on Harry's face was somewhat PMS-like. Ron feared if he said anything he'd be engulfed in a wave of tears and exposed to a lecture arguing how it feels to be a woman.
"H've yer brought yer text books?" Hagrid asked cheerfully.
The majority of the class nodded and Hagrid began a-not-so-thrilling lesson on house-elf sexuality. It wouldn't have been so disturbing if he hadn't provided detailed descriptions, overheads and videos, which, Hermione was sure, were not under the Ministry's regulations. That Hagrid sure knew how to bring up your breakfast.
The final video began:
"A few months ago, dobby the house elf discovered a few changes in himself:
*Growing *The appearance of acne *And Hair, where there was no hair before
He also noticed, Winky the house elf."
Some time passed during the video, and Ron glanced over at Hermione.
"I like my beer cold...my TV loud...and my homosexuals flaming."
"Ron, nobody said anything about homosexuals"
"Oh, sorry, my bad."
".And then came the honeymoon!"
"Ewwww"
"She's fakin' it!" Hagrid boomed.
"9 months later, Winky gave birth to 12 beautiful babies- 9 survived."
The video came to an end and Hagrid turned to the students.
"And that, class," Hagrid said as the bell sounded, "Is how little house elves are made.
*** They made their way to Transfiguration a little less naive than earlier that morning to complete their exam. Once done, they then moved off to Potions in one of the Dungeons.
"I'd say that performance was transcendent" Hermione conveyed to Ron on their way to class.
"How about, groin grabbingly transcendent!?"
"No Ron."
"Ok, we make a good team, a groin grabbingly good team!"
*** Professor Snape had them all seated in single rows because of the excitement the completion of the transfiguration exam was causing. It wasn't just the regular excitement either. Sexual excitement is apparently contagious and before Snape could do anything to stop it people were kissing and humping desk legs all over the classroom- particularly Ron. Though he could not be blamed, team a hormone-influenced male with a wooden desk leg with and your pretty much asking for some shameless thrusting.
Once the raging hormones had settled down (given that they were all at the peak of their adolescence this took a surprisingly short time.) Hermione leaned over her desk and asked Neville if he would mind passing a note up to Ron. Neville's one weakness was Hermione.well, that and everything else, so naturally he complied. He passed the note from Hermonie up the line of single rows to Lavender, who passed it to Pavarti, who passed it to Seamus, who passed it to Dean, who passed it to Harry who then passed it onto Ron.
Ron opened the note and read to himself:
"Guess who likes you?"
Ron turned around, trying to figure out who the letter was from. Neville waved at him. Rob shuddered.
He dipped his quill back into his inkbottle and wrote a note to Neville. Ron passed the note back down the aisle and Neville opened it. It read: Booger.
Neville thought this odd, as, to his knowledge, the current topic was completely irrelevant to boogers, but pocketed the note anyway.
Professor Snape saw Neville open the note and, as he regularly did, went over to commence bulling him like a 7-year-old.
"Long-bottom, hand that note over."
"Note?" Neville's said, sounding like his balls hadn't dropped yet, "What note?"
"Do you think me stupid?" Snape bared his teeth and raised his hands like claws in an attempt to look scary, like a ferocious bear, but ended up looking like a special Ed student in dire need of dental treatment.
"Oh, this. This isn't a note.it's. -ER-, it's a. compact, oddly light, slightly explosive paper weight made of.paper."
"Oh really?" Snape said, dropping the bear look and opting for the less is more but alfoil shoes are better conductors of electricity look.
"Yes.it's used for.paper weighting things..mostly paper, and or paper products."
"Stop procrastinating Long-bottom."
"Yes, sir"
"Hand over the.paper weight" Snape said, now opting for, best not to scare the students while they control your bank balance look.
And now came what all staff members say they would never do but always do it anyway.
"Guess who likes you?" Snape read aloud.
Hermione raised her hand to object.
"You?" Snape said, shocked.
"No, sir, I just think that-"
"And all along I thought you liked that Weasley kid!"
"Hermione likes Ron" The class sang
"She does not!" Neville protested
"Neville likes Hermione!"
"He does not!" Pavarti objected
"Pavarti likes Neville"
"She does not!" Dean yelled
"Dean likes Neville!"
"Shut up- nobody likes Neville!" Snape yelled, "You all will receive detention for this out burst, and, if this occurs again, consider your selves banned from the lavatory!"
"But sir!" Malfoy whined
"Shut it Draco!"
"But no Slytherins said anything-"
This was odd for Snape to respond in such a way to a Slytherin, but since McGonagall and himself had become an item he now resented anyone under 40.
"-You ALL will receive detention tonight, my office at 7:00 sharp. And if you forget-"
As Snape was about to finish his threats a barn owl swooped into the classroom and threw a letter at Snape, hitting him in the eye.
Snape opened the letter and read to himself.
He looked thoroughly disappointed (and yet somehow pleasantly surprised) as he turned to the class.
"Change of plans, 7:00 sharp.at a restaurant specifically made up for this occasion when nothing else appealed much."
"Wow, I've heard of that place" Pavarti whispered to Lavender in a I'm just making background noise voice.
"Sir," Hermione raised her hand.
"Oh what is it now Granger." Snape had been experiencing a mild form of PMS of late, probably due to all the hormone tablets McGonagall had him on for no particular reason.
"Why will we be dinning at a restaurant specifically made up for this occasion when nothing else appealed much?"
"YOU, aren't dinning there, YOU'LL all be sitting in the gutter. I'm dinning there with."
"Oh, we all know about you a Professor McGonagall." Seamus pointed out.
"We- what! We're not..we're not doing anything of the sort!"
"Apart from that note, which is obviously from her, we have Polaroids"
Hermione handed over the photos. Snape gasped for air, and then Hermione snatched them back.
"Behold!" Hermione said, standing on her desk and holding the Polaroids over her head. "The blow up doll incident!"
Apparently Snape and McGonagall had paid a little visit to one of the most well know sex shops in all of Britain, and hadn't been very discrete about it either. The photos clearly conveyed what was going on in a quick reminder of what you had for breakfast kind of way.
There were so many stomach-churning moments at Hogwarts, 2 being the daily minimum, that it wasn't surprising that most of the students had stomachs of bulimic's.
If the pictures hadn't been moving, you could have passed it off as bad lighting, but they were DEFINIETLY moving.
At this point, Snape, sprawled out on the floor, was presumed dead.or passed out. This didn't really concern the class much, as a new potions teacher would have been looked upon as somewhat of a blessing, but alas, he stirred and stood up.
"Give me those!" Snape grabbed the photos, walked over to his desk, and started to burn them, feeling as if he had just solved the problem.
Hermione looked at Ron, then pointed to her top pocket. Ron, being as thick as he is, just thought she was pointing at her boob.
"What? New bra?"
"No you idiot!"
Ron looked again and noticed a whole stack of the photos in her pocket.
"There," Snape said, dusting his hands after he swallowed the ashes as an extra precaution, "now, I'd like to see you prove anything now, Miss Granger."
"Wow sir, I guess you win." Hermione said sarcastically.
"Yes, I guess I do."
"Come on sir. We aren't stupid." Seamus Finnagin resumed the argument.
"Oh, on the contrary, you are. And if I happen to be dinning at the same restaurant as Professor McGonagall, and she just happens to walk over and sit across the table from me then that's just pure coincidence!"
"We know that note is from her, Sir!"
"Note, what note!"
"The one on your desk!"
"That's no note..that's one of those paper weights that Long-bottom has, I ordered it just moments ago!"
"Please, Sir! Look at the packaging!" Seamus leaned forward so he could read the address aloud: " Severus Snape, The Dungeons, In the eye. Love Minerva"
Seamus snatched the letter from Snape's desk and read aloud:
"Dearest Severus,
It sure is a good thing that no one, particularly Seamus Finnagin is going to be picking this up from your desk and distracting the other students in your class, Severus, because I'm about to tell you something quiet personal. I love your greasy hair and your "just came back from the morgue" looks. I'd like to invite you to a restaurant specifically made up for this occasion when nothing else appealed much at 7:00 tonight. We'll eat there, then later, come back to my place and-"
Snape snatched the letter back from Seamus
"Mr Finnagin!" Snape yelled, livid, "You can consider yourself banned from the boys lavatory until the end of this month!"
Seamus remained clam and smirked.
"And that means no evacuation via your balcony either!"
Seamus swallowed, hard.
The bell rang and Snape now resumed his bear impression (but this time with hissing and head banging) and the class left without hesitation. McGonagall sure had had a strange affect on him. Harry assumed it was the sex, Hermione assumed it the romance, and Ron assumed nothing, which wasn't all that surprising. Ron rarely thought, unless absolutely necessary. And considering affairs of the heart, particularly Snape's heart, didn't have anything to do with him, he was pretty disconcerted with it.
He had, however, been doing a lot of thinking concerning Hermione. He liked Hermione, Hermione liked him, but there was something in the way, a barrier of some sort, otherwise known as clothing.
This clothing sure was a bloody nuisance, Ron thought.
But that wasn't the only thing bothering him. Aside from the clothing, it wasn't just a sexual thing, predominantly, yes, but not completely. Ron wasn't sure if it was the testosterone talking, but he thought he might just be in love.
"Hey Harry?" Ron began.
"Yessssssssss"
"Why are you talking like that?"
"I had a stroooooooooke"
"That's great. Now listen. I love Her-"
"Hey guys! What are you talking about?" Hermione said, appearing out of what was probably thin air.
"ER- I love Her.Herpes! Yes, that'll do. I love having Herpes!"
"You have Herpes?" Hermione said, taking a step back.
"Yes."
"Really?"
"No"
"Well, that's a relief."
Harry was looking depressed again.
"Is this about Sirus?" Hermione asked genuinely.
Harry shook his head, but Ron continued anyway.
"Don't let Sirus' death get you down, Harry. People die all the time, just like that. Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow."
Hermione glared at him.
"I mean, it was such a tragedy. We all miss Sirus Harry, but he died a most likely painful death. Though he may be struggling to live. Maybe he just fell behind the curtain and onto a hot poker. Maybe he's still there, guts pouring out everywhere, head hanging on by a thread-"
"Ron!"
"What? I'm just opening him up to the possibilities!"
"Well your possibilities are causing Harry extreme emotional trauma. Maybe we should get him some counselling?"
"Counselling!" Ron said, outraged, "This boy doesn't need therapy, he needs a series of no strings attached one night stands!"
"This isn't about Sirus! But thanks for opening old wounds! This is about Ginny and Malfoy!"
"Oh." Ron suddenly lost interest. He didn't like talking about Ginny THAT way.
"They wont last Harry," Hermione said, ".At least he won't be at the burrow. You can tell Ginny how you feel, and he won't be around to screw it up."
"Yeah, I guess killing will be fun enough"
"killing!"
"ER- did I say killing? I meant.spilling! Spilling my feelings will be fun enough."
"Yes.well. As long as you're happy. But I'm serious, Harry, it's all going to work out in somebodies favour."
"And what the hell is that supposed to mean!?"
"I don't know! You can't expect me to be intellectual all the time!"
"I guess you're right."
Of course I am, I always am. And if I'm not, I'm mistaken."
"How do you figure?"
"Figure what?"
"That you're always right."
"Because everybody tells me to be. And you should always give into peer pressure."
"But what if somebody really bad is trying to-"
"Always"
At this point in their conversation, Ron was pacing several steps ahead; he didn't know whether it was safe to risk slowing down and hearing some thing terribly disturbing about his sister. He had no idea they had already moved onto Hermione's questionable intelligence.
"Hey guys-"
Ron had turned around to speak to the duo when he ran into an oddly placed house elf carrying a platter or food for the faculty. (It was common knowledge that the staff at Hogwarts mail-ordered every meal. Though the house elves looked like they produced quality food, the reality was far less sanitary.)
The slate of food fell on top of the house elf, squashing him to what could only be assumed as his death. There was a standard brief moment of silence for the mourning of yet another servant (elf mortality rates had sky rocketed due to platter accidents such as these.) Dumbledore had ordered there be at least a 2.45-second mourning for every elf killed delivering their meals. Dumbledore was stingy with a lot of things, school supplies, toilet paper, sufficiently qualified staff, but his 2.45 second mourning rate was his lowest yet.
Having already mentioned Harry, Ron, and every other teenage male's obsession with constant eating, I need not to convey their individual thoughts.
"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Harry asked Ron between mouthfuls of stolen staff food.
"Read your town charter, Harry. If foodstuff should touch the ground, said foodstuff shall be turned over to the village idiot. Since I don't see him around, start shovelling!"
Ron and Harry shamelessly knelt over the platter on all fours and ate the faculty lunch while Hermione disapproved and leant against the hall wall. Though Harry thought he saw her take a few mouthfuls herself, but whilst in the spasms of eating stolen food the mind tends to get a bit foggy.
While the trio was in the hallway, the staff grew impatient. The Great Hall was full of food, students we eating their dinner and the they had to watch.
Snape nearly lunged at one of the platters on the student's table when Dumbledore reached out and stopped him.
"No, Severus, it's not worth it."
"Oh, but it is!" Snape whined.
Some students turned to watch the dilemma.
"Don't sink so low to eating this substandard mush conjured up out of rubbish bins-"
Dumbledore realised the eyes on him.
"-ER, what I mean to say is, don't sink so low as to eating the students food!" Dumbledore grew confident in his cover up, "I mean, stealing! How could you?! Haven't you learned anything from that guy who gives those sermons at church? Captain What's-his-name?" -At this point Dumbledore had seemed to have forgotten that Witchcraft's traditional Religion was based around Satanic Rituals
The students returned to eating their mush and were none the wiser.
"When is our lunch getting here damn it!" Snape yelled, slamming his fists on the table. The table soon erupted in a din of babble, which was probably completely unrelated anyway.
McGonagall had had enough at this point and withdrew from the table promising to come back with explanations, leaving Snape (but not before secretly slipping a few hormone tablets into his goblet of pumpkin juice) and the rest of the staff in a pre-lunch depression.
She suspected the house elves were planning another revolt- they were always planning revolts.
McGonagall often came off as a stern and strict woman who really had a heart of gold underneath, but really she was just an old bitch and wanted her lunch just as much -possibly even more- than Snape.
As the wrinkly unfed professor rounded another corner she stumbled across one of the many shameless secrets that was played out on a weekly basis at Hogwarts- Neville long-bottom was stealing mops from the storage closet- again.
"Mr Long-bottom!" The professor tried to sound shocked, but Neville was a repeat offender, particularly concerning the mops, and just as she was about to commence another lecture when Dean Thomas was spotted on all fours in the storage closet- cramming clods of dirt into his mouth.
"Mr Thomas!" Now this was genuine shock, she hadn't known about Dean's dirt addiction, but she shouldn't have expected any better from one of Hogwarts most emotionally unstable students.
"Explain yourself, both of you!"
"Um, well." Neville began, "ER- look, your shoes laces are untied!"
"They appear to be tied from here, but I will go in for a closer look."
"RUN DEAN!
And with that the two boys ran down the hall, arms flailing, legs kicking all the way to their dormitory.
"On closer inspection- these are loafers" McGonagall said as she straightened up again.
Now, her personal motto being "I'd rather let 100 guilty men go than chase after them", it's no wonder she wasn't in hot pursuit of the boys.
This philosophy had only been put to use 15 years ago, before that, the young- well, younger- McGonagall, being the agile 40 something year old that she was, would have given them a run for their money. But now a days she was more likely to sit on her arse and picture superheroes naked while her opponents made a speedy get away. It's because of this new found laziness, other wise known as slipping into the middle aged category, that she had become a pro at undressing people with her eyes. McGonagall had become so skilled at this perverted art that she could undress anybody, anywhere, anytime.
Once upon a time this had been a well-kept secret, and put to good use in at most every occasion. But somehow it had got out, and now every time McGonagall's pupils dilated and her mouth sagged at an oddly obtuse angle everyone in sight backed away, covering their "sensitive" areas with whatever was handy- usually Hermione's head, which proved to create a few compromising situations.
On pondering this thought McGonagall made a mental note to undress people more often- for no apparent reason. She was currently on a tally- 2 nude students per day, minimum, and a nude staff member if time permitted it.
But these standards were pretty unrealistic, because everybody knew of her sexy, sexy secret, that granted, there were plenty of people to undress around these parts. Being in the wizarding world had countless advantages: access to old age pensions at 25, virtually permitted adolescent mayhem, and, of course, the abundance of sexy, sexy people.
McGonagall refused to see this acquired trait as a flaw. Instead, she looked upon it as a misunderstood gift, granted to those only with copious amounts of spare time and a dirty, dirty mind- all of which she, McGonagall, possessed.
She rounded yet another corner with her thoughts on the possible events that night would hold when she rounded too far and ran into the wall. Feeling extremely unco at this point, McGonagall silently prayed that she was hallucinating when Harry, Hermione and Ron's faces came into view.
Once her vision corrected itself she noticed the scene in front of her was somewhat unusual, to say the least.
Ron, sprawled out on his stomach, his face in a pile of food, was trying to communicate something, but this was incoherent-splutters to her, as he was trying to speak through 10 centimetres of heavily seasoned mashed potato. She managed to decipher:
"Please kill me, every moment is agony"
Hermione, who had previously been taking on the responsible and sensible role, was now sitting up against the wall, hands held over stomach, head flung back and wearing a facemask of chicken skin and rice.
And Harry, who, by rights, should have passed out from indigestion ages ago was still cramming pie into his mouth. This over eating was probably a reaction to his love life, or lack there of. If you thought only girl's loose control and binge eat, then maybe you should consider questioning Harry's gender.
"What the devil is going on!"
This outburst brought the trio back to reality, particularly Ron, who began choking on his mountain of potato.
"Well? I want the truth!"
Unable to make a speedy get away because they feared if they even stood their entire digestive system would fall through their underpants Ron began some insane rambling.
"You want the truth; you can't handle the truth! I'm not out of order, the whole friggen systems out of order! Forget it McGonagall, it's china town!"
"Shut it, Weasley!"
"Yes, Miss."
***
A/N: OK, let me know what you think. I know this chapter was a zillion times longer than the others, but I don't know whether that's a good thing. If you want me to continue doing long chapters, then your going to have to wait A LOT longer for updates. Tell me whether you think this one is as funny as the others, I think I'm loosing it really. Nothing really seems that funny any more- but that's probably because of all the shit year 11 involves. Education sucks! Oh why oh why did I not get a job?! lol . Anyways, hope you enjoyed R/R!