:Note from Lams: I'd like to say my return to FanFics would be a triumphant return. However, I haven't done this in ages, so you're left with this festering turd of a chapter. Enjoy.
The next morning, Snape woke up on a cold wet tiled floor with no recollection of what happened the night before. His head throbbed like mad as he slowly opened his eyes. In front of him, he could see a blurry figure that stood before him. "Mommy! But I don't want to go to school today!" he cried.
"I'm not your mom. And if you're gonna stay home today, you can help me shave my armpits!" shouted Hermione as she bent down lower towards him.
"Oh mommy! You said you wouldn't make me do that again! Anything but that!" cried Snape as he twitched on the floor.
With that, Hermione gave Snape a cold glare before slapping him directly across the face. "God, you must have had one traumatic childhood. I guess that explains a lot." Hermione picked his head off the ground and her nose crinkled. "Eww, but it doesn't explain that ocean of drool!" She quickly dropped his head back down and it landed with a painful thunk on the tiles.
"Oww!" exclaimed Snape. He sheepishly picked himself off the ground and looked over at the puddle. "I don't know WHAT that is. I don't drool."
"Whatever," said Hermione. "Clearly, you do."
"Well," said Snape coldly, "at least I don't fantasize about Neville Longbottom in my sleep!"
It was Hermione's turn to have her face turn red. She shook her head. "Say what you will, Severus, but you need to get going. Today you start your sixth year classes. Wow, sixth year… you'll have to tell me what you think of it," she said dreamily. "All those advanced classes…."
"Oh, sixth year. Well, if you don't remember, I've actually already been through it. I ruled in 6th year. I always had people sleeping over and I threw big parties, and…"
"Uhh, Sevvy, I think you've got it wrong," said Hermione. "I really don't think you were ever popular in your entire life."
"Way to bring that one up! 20 years of repressing memories down the drain," exclaimed Snape. "I'm off to class," he said as he walked up the stairs.
"Hey wait," said Hermione. "Do you know how we got down here or what even HAPPENED last night?"
Snape shrugged his shoulders. "I guess we'll never know."
Snape walked in late to the classroom and took a seat next to a blonde Hufflepuff girl. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher strolled around the room in a white lab coat. "Now, in review, Riddikulus comes in handy against boggarts. Not to be confused with boogers, haha, hahahahaha."
"Riddikulus? More like ridiculous!" said Snape. Everyone in the class turned and glared at him and the girl next to him scooted further away. "You're a loser," she muttered after the teacher began again.
"No I will not make out with you!" said Snape loudly. Everyone stopped and stared at him again. "Did ya hear that? This girl wants to make out with me in the middle of class. You got Riddikulus Man up there talking about God knows what and all she can talk about is making out with me. I'm here to learn, everybody, not to make out with you. Go on with the Riddikulus."
Needless to say, Snape ate alone that day. And the rest of his day didn't go any better. After establishing himself as a loser in 6th year, Snape could not catch a break. Finally, after what seemed like the longest day ever, he walked back to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione sat on the couch with the Daily Prophet in hand.
"Hermione! Am I ever glad to see you!" he cried. He ran over to the couch and told her the whole sad tale of his first day of his second time as a 6th year.
"It doesn't feel so good to be called a loser, does it?" she said. "Maybe you weren't always so nice to the people who you thought were losers."
"Wow, thanks for that piece of advice, Dr. Phil," said Snape. He got up and turned to Hermione who was shooting him a warning glance. "Oh fine!" he said as he scribbled out a quick note of apology and tied it to an owl.
"Oh my God!" screamed Hermione. She jumped up and threw down her newspaper. "Look! Look at this!" she panted, manically pointing at an article that lay face-up on the floor.
Snape picked up the wrinkled paper. His jaw dropped as he read the headline.
Swindling Snape Scams Again: In a press conference this afternoon Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, admitted to accepting a bribe from Severus Snape to pass him through school. This isn't the first such incident for Snape. Earlier this year, it was discovered that he had not even finished school the first time. What a loser!
Snape flung down the paper and charged out the common room door. "This is a big lie!" he shouted.
"What's a big lie, Snapey-wapey?" said a menacing voice from behind.
"Peeves!" cried Snape. "I know this is all your fault. I will kill you!"
"Ah, ah, ah!" said Peeves shaking a finger at Snape, who was trying his best to choke the ghost. "You can't kill the undead."
"Fine," said Snape. He pulled a glove out from his pocket and slapped what would have been Peeves's face with it. "I challenge you to a duel!"
"Wow, you really are an idiot," said Peeves. "Didn't you hear a word I just said?"
"Umm, well, not really. I wasn't paying that much attention, truth be told. You see, I got 'Holla Back, Girl' stuck in my head. And while it's not really a great song it's awful catchy…" Snape said, trailing off as he noticed Peeves's disinterest. "In any event, I didn't mean a REAL duel. A duel of knowledge. We'll answer questions and perform tasks in different areas. The one who gets the most points, wins the title of professor of Potions. So, Peeves. Are you game, or are you a pussy?"
"Oh, it is on! On like Donkey KONG, biotch!" shouted Peeves. And with that he glided away, only to turn around abruptly. "Hey, Donkey Kong. That sounds fun. Can it be one of the challenges?"
"Umm, sure," responded Snape. "Though I must tell you, I'm the king of the jungle. You've got to learn the ropes, or you don't have a hope."
"I say this modestly, no one ever does it twice like me!" retorted Peeves as he went off for real.
Meanwhile, in a cold dark end of the castle, Neville Longbottom sat in the owlry poking the poo with a stick. When suddenly, an owl appeared for him carrying something other than his usual howler. Neville untied the letter and read it, then clung it to his heart. He reached into his robe and pulled out a long list and crossed something off it.
"Finally, one less person to kill!" he exclaimed. With that, he smiled dreamily and put huge globs of blue eye shadow onto his eyes and nose before lying down amongst the birds who were hooting what seemed to be a bad song from the 50s.
