Author's Note: Random night scribbles.

The Gouging of Eyeballs

by Lylian

This is great really. Lectures aren't really all that interesting anyways. Blah, blah, blah. Keep on talking you greasy slime ball.

You know, if you squint your eyes and turn your head to the side, Snape could pass as Professor McGonagall's twin. Her fraternal twin. Her much uglier twin. Female even.

Whenever Snape walks too close, I can see up his nose. Ew. It's not like I want to see what kind of boogers he has. It's kinda like Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy always has her nose up in the air. It's like she's trying to catch those dust particles that cause boogers. Now that pug-nose is not someone I want to get to know.

I'm sure Lavender and Parvati would agree that her skirt was way too short for her own good. I mean, if she ever decided to bend over (I wouldn't put it past her to do it on purpose) she would be showing the world everything. I mean everything.

Though, I suppose most of the guys in the classroom wouldn't mind all too much.

There's Ron glancing at her legs. Pig. Pervert. Prat. Whatever. Go ahead, stare at her. Stare at her as long as you want. I really don't care.

I guess Ron noticed me glaring at him. He looked at me funny.

"What's up?" He whispered this but he was so conspicuous about these things.

I put a finger to my lips to shut him up. Idiot. So I continued to contemplate whether Professor Snape was McGonagall's evil twin.

What's this? Ron passed me a note.

What's eating you?

Ha! Not you! That's what. I couldn't help put grin at my own stupid pun.

Oh, I give up! I have no idea why I liked you in the first place.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Miss Granger?" A voice suddenly spoke in my head.

No, wait. That wasn't in my head. That was Snape. And he's looking at me like he just ate something extremely disgusting. I figured it was his "mad" face.

Why should he be the one mad? He's the one that made me lose my train of thought. Greasy git. Slime secreting Slytherin scum. Oily odious ogre. Hey, I like this alliteration stuff.

Snape can just screw himself and Professor Trelawney twice over.

Why is Snape's face getting all funny and screwed up? So what, it's the first time I haven't answered one of his questions...Oh no. That isn't the reason.

He's a Legimens. Snape can read my mind. Time to close my eyes and block the world from my vision.

I don't want to know what he's going to do to me.

…That's odd. Nothing's happening. Maybe that vision of him and Trelawney going at it was enough to satisfy his deepest, darkest fantasies.

Snape was frozen on the spot. He looked optimistically revolted.

Hey! I can use this to my advantage. Dirty thoughts. Think dirty thoughts. What would make him turn green? A perverse image of him and the Headmaster? Uh, no thanks. I'm not scarring myself for life too.

Oh. There's Draco Malfoy sitting in the corner. I hope I'm not grinning like a maniac, but this is too good.

It involves me, Malfoy, Snape's desk, and pineapples.

"Miss Granger, please keep your thoughts to yourself."

"I didn't say that out loud did I?" Oh crap. Now I'm going turn as red as carrot top sitting next to me.

"No, you didn't. But I'd appreciate it, Miss Granger, if you didn't force your thoughts into my mind." He gave something of a horrid smile, but it was more of a flashing of yellow decayed teeth.

Phew. He continued on with his lecture.

Harry had his eyebrows raised, and Ron was looking at me with an incredulous expression on his face.

But I ignored the latter. Sorry Ronnikins, but I don't think you're worth my precious time. Because you just whispered to Harry that I was PMS-ing. Pretentious nincompoop. I have no idea why I even considered you back in forth year. Ugh. If ever I dated you...just ew. Kissed you? Disgusting.

Our kids would look deformed; with bushy red hair, bucked teeth, and long drooping faces.

What am I thinking? Me, Ron...kids? Those words do not belong together in one sentence.

Errr. Fine. On to that lecture of Snape's.

"...the two tressed sgnirps are meant to bring out the hmm of the potion. They are the cause of the slight hmm that you see here. Hmm are the most important ingredients because hmmm..."

My brain buzzed with "hmm's" as I tuned him out. I knew almost everything he was talking about. So he wasn't the least bit interesting.

This isn't working out. Snape is just so boring. And annoying. And monotonous. And fugly. And completely prattish.

Eeep! He just glared over here.

Must. Block. Out. GIT.

Did I just use the word "prattish"? Oh my gosh. What is the world coming to when I make up words of my own! ...I think I like it!

Okay. New thoughts. Distraction. Distraction! I need a—Malfoy!

Wow. I did not just say that.

The word I'm looking for now is, "Anyways."

There's Malfoy. Sitting there like he owns the place. The prat. He just glanced at me. How can he look so smug? Stinking Slyther-scum. Don't you dare smirk at me.

You just smirked at me! With any luck, my glare will drill a hole through your head.

What's this? Malfoy just blew me an origami note. How creative.

I'm going to rip it to shreds, maybe even burn the thing, or stick it in my mouth, chew and swallow.

Alright, so I didn't do any of those things. I did what any girl would do if a boy sent her a note in the middle of the class with Professor Snape baring down on all of us.

I opened it.

Like what you see?

How typical. Just sigh and get on with it Hermione. Rolling my eyes, I wrote:

You git. Don't flatter yourself.

It seemed very boring. So as an afterthought I added:

I was looking at your cute friend, Blaise.

Making sure Snape's back was turned, I made the paper bird fly back. It was like a homing pigeon. I've always wanted one of those. The thought of a pet bird that always flew home was a cute idea. I wonder why I've never gotten one of those or my own owl.

The note fluttered back down on my desk. When I looked back at Malfoy, he wasn't disgusted (like I'd hoped he would be). He had an eyebrow arched. What does he do, shape them?

Funny I never thought you had it in you to like a Slytherin. But seeing as Blaise is two rows behind me, I know you're lying.

I checked to see where Zabini was sitting and he was right, dammit.

Granger, do tell me; what aspect of myself were you admiring today?

Who the hell uses semi-colons in notes? Only Malfoy.

Was it my hair?

No, you foolish, idiotic, dumb blond.

My eyes?

Those pair of black holes? Don't kid yourself.

Or was it my teeth?

And I did not have a good enough mental comeback for that. I couldn't say anything. He had a nice set of healthy, off-white, straight, my-parents-would-love-to-examine teeth. Oh yes. Malfoy had beautiful pearly whites.

Ahh! What am I saying? I can't believe that I'm attracted to his teeth, of all things! Damn dentist parents.

Okay, okay. Don't panic. You can deal with this. Just glare at the jerk.

I think I have just been blinded. I can't see anything! He just smiled at me! Can you believe that? Sure it was a sarcastic, slightly amused smile, but he purposely flashed me a toothy grin.

No! I won't take this—not from a bloody Slytherin. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

So...I think I'll burn the note. Right in front of him.

I smiled cheekily at the brute as I set the note on fire. The flames were quick and devoured the paper. It came too close, nearly scorching my hand. So I threw it.

It was too bad Neville sat in front of me.

Oh my gosh.

Oh my gosh.

Oh my gosh.

He's going to kill me.

"Does something smell like it's burning?" He was sniffing the air.

I buried my head in my armed just in time to hear the scraping of chairs and a pained howl in front of me.

"AHHHHHH!"

(No) Thanks to my Gryffindor bravery, I had the courage to take a peak at my unintentional victim. He was running around in circles, like a madman, trying to remove the flames from his backside.

Half the class looked horrified, the other was laughing, and Draco Malfoy was clutching his side with hysterics. I'm sure no one was surprised that this was happening to Neville.

"Get it off me! Get it off ME!" he cried.

My two best friends stood up to help the poor bloke. They got their books and started to fan the flames, chasing him since he refused to stand still.

My two former best friends are a pair reckless fools. Some help they were. Ron and Harry had only spread the fire to cover his whole back.

But I still couldn't move. My stomach was giving wild lurches. So much for Gryffindor bravery.

"Aguamenti," said that voice that always seemed to pop up in my head.

Neville was drenched head to foot with water. He stood wobbly for a moment and then sunk to the ground, eyes rolled to the back of his head.

"Is he dead?" Ron was horror-struck. Both he and Harry stood near Neville's collapsed body.

"I think he's still breathing," said Harry. He looked really stupid with two hands and a head on Neville's chest. If only the unconscious could see Harry now, he'd feel awfully violated.

Snape, who just so happened to be that voice in my head, barked, "Potter, Weasley. Take Longbottom to the infirmary, now."

They lifted his plump body and dashed out. The rest of the class stared at Professor Snape for further instruction.

"Would anyone care to tell me how Mr. Longbottom became enflamed?" He looked completely merciless at me. So, I decided to look anywhere but him.

I swear I turned as red as a beet. How embarrassing!

There's the schmuck that caused this all—Draco Malfoy. Evil. Evil. EVIL.

That prick had been watching me the whole time. He saw me throw the burning note at Neville...He's going to tell Snape. What am I going to do? I don't want detentions for a month. On no! Malfoy's going to rat me out. It was an accident, I promise—

"Professor," Malfoy said, "knowing Longbottom, I wouldn't doubt he did it himself."

There were a few chortles and nods of agreement. Stupid Slytherins. But Snape seemed to be satisfied with this answer, since he was no longer looking at me like a dog that threw up and ate his own vomit.

"I think we've had enough excitement for today," said Snape. "Essays due Thursday. Class dismissed." He strutted to his office and closed the door.

Everyone hurried out quickly, like a pack of raging baboons. They were all reciting the details of Neville Longbottom's misery. The pitiful guy.

But I was slow moving while gathering my junk together.

Had Malfoy just stood up for me? Am I hallucinating? Is Hell one stiff iceberg?

Because of my disturbing thoughts, I dropped my favorite quill on the ground. I didn't pick it up though—I didn't have the chance to. Malfoy snatched it up.

"Clumsy today, aren't we?" He smirked.

"Just give me my quill, Malfoy," I said. Hopefully in my no-nonsense tone.

"Or what, you'll burn me too?"

I know I shouldn't have, but I'm sure I blushed like crazy. So he stood up for me and he knew it?

And he chuckled, giving me full view of those beautiful teeth of his. Draco Malfoy placed the quill in my hand and walked out of the room, calling over his shoulder, "See you around, Granger."

"Good-bye Mal-Ferret!" I called, annoyed. But I know what I must do. All because of my traitor brain. I had to deprive myself of seeing his mouth-watering teeth again.

I decided then and there to gouge my eyeballs out.

Random? Yes. Review? Please.