Choir Boy: Part Two
Sequel Chapter to Choir Boy: Part One
"H-hmm, hnhn-hnhn-hn-hn, mmm-hmhmhmhmm… hnhn-hnhn-hn-hn, hmmhmmmhmm hmm-hmmhmm…"
"Mister Potter, would you kindly stop humming?" Snape snarled in the direction of the dirty teenager sitting in the corner, merrily splattering the insides of a giant slug all over himself and the general area in which he was working. He had been sitting there for the past half hour, humming off-key amidst the sickening squelching and ripping of sloppy flesh and guts. He was humming the same bloody tune that landed him here in the first place.
"Pardon Professor?" he asked all too innocently.
"I said be quiet."
"… Why?" Bloody innocent Potters.
"Because it's annoying," he ground out between clenched teeth.
"Oh… Is it?" Still acting innocent.
"Yes, it is!" Ooh dear, he was about to blow his cap at the boy…
"Should I sing something else then, Professor?"
I keel you boy, I keel you dead and I make it look like an accident too…
"No Potter, just. Shut. Up,"
"Oh… Are you sure? I could sing the Jelly Song if you like…"
"The what-? No, Potter! Just work in silence!" Oops, he gripped his quill so hard it snapped. Damn, that was his favourite quill too. He swore quietly and found a new one in his desk drawer.
Ah, the boy was silent at last…
"I like aeroplane jelly-"
"Potter, SHUT UP!"
"Aw, Professor! Do you always have to ruin my fun?"
I KEEL YOU!
He jumped up from his desk and stalked over to where the boy was sitting, elbow deep in guts and other gross looking things. The damn boy didn't even flinch, but continued to look pouty, like a spoilt child who had just been denied candy.
Slamming his hands down on the table, he glared down at the little wretch who dared defy the silence that so pervaded his dungeon home. He opened his mouth to deliver some scathing remark, but got only so far before…
"I kiss you!" and so he did. On the tip of his overly-hooked nose. Smiling.
Stunned, to say the least, Snape stared down at the seventeen-year-old boy who was grinning back up at him.
What the f-?
"You shouldn't scowl so much, Professor. It doesn't make you look very nice, and you'll never get laid if you do it all the time."
Spluttering in indignation, he straightened up and unleashed his ultimate I!Keel!You!Dead!Scowl he held on the boy. And he didn't even flinch. Again. The bastard.
The clock on the wall hit ten o'clock and it's hollow chime sounded from the wall.
Potter looked at the wall, then at the table, waved his wand, muttered "Scourgify," over the table, picked up his bag and walked out.
Fucking Potters.
Just quickly, thanks to everyone who reviews! And, yes, I'm aware that "pouty" isn't a word! --cries--