Days Until 39th Birthday: 13
I feel so old. I never thought I'd be counting down the dreadful days until my one-year-below-fortieth birthday. I thought I'd at least be dead by thirty. I guess that proves how utterly wrong I was. How disgusting, I'm never supposed to be wrong. I think a bologna sandwich and some eggnog will help clear my head.
I'm also really sick of this Harriny business. Since when do Potters and Weasleys become centerpieces of the school? I don't know, perhaps Umbridge was right: we're encouraging the growth of the amount of hormones rather than education. With Yule Balls, Valentines Day, and books in the library such as "Snogwarts, a Kisstory" and "Pleasurable Magic for Beginners", it's a surprise that Hogwarts doesn't have a daycare centre yet. Though I'm sure that's not very far in the future.
Of course, that post only pertains to the students. I'm pretty much giving the Professors, such as myself, free reign. Emphasis on "pretty much". I still think we should lock Dumbledore away before dusk.
Maybe a patrol of the Astronomy tower at midnight would be a good idea. Then Filch will know what's happening to all of his broom closets.
Or perhaps not. The man is rather dense.
Visited the House Elves' layer (aka the kitchen) today before supper to secure some pick-me-up into my evening cider, and was quickly stopped before the entrance by a flustered elf that somewhat resembled Professor Flitwick.
"Mr Snape!" it said in a squeaky voice that also, creepily, resembled that of Flitwick's. "Mr Snape! Flimmy can not let Mr Snape into the kitchen!"
I crossed my arms across my chest, hoping I could at least pull of a little bit of a threatening aura. "And why not?"
"Because Miss Granger is busy in the kitchen. She is helping us elves, sir."
"Move," I demanded, reaching out with my index finger to tickle the pear in the portrait. It swung aside before Flimmy could stop me and I plunged into the kitchen, looking around desperately for a bushy head of hair high above the sea of pale greens. "Miss Granger!"
She was nowhere in sight. But then I noticed that each elf was sucking on a honey stick happily and continuing with their work. Then I smelled some chocolate and noticed that a milk tray was lying on the counter, half empty.
"Miss Granger."
The clanking of a pan and a loud "Bloody metal!" caught my attention, and I immediately knew that she was present.
"Miss Granger, if you would be so kind as to appear within my line of vision and stop being a pawn in the happiness of indentured servants, I promise that I shall go light on my punishment for you."
Ha, yeah, right.
I heard a sigh of resignation and Hermione rose from the floor on the other side of counter, the look on her face pure, sweet defeat.
"Get out of the kitchens now, Miss Granger. And 10 points from Gryffindor."
"Fine," she said as she walked past me, the rich smell of chocolate floating around her. "But I'll get back at you for this."
Right. Miss Granger's not one for threats. Not to mention that with her selective memory, she probably won't even remember looking at my butt as she passed by me.
Poor girl, she reaches beyond herself sometime.
~November 11th~ Thursday
Dark arts run rampant in this school. Today I was confronted with millions upon millions of blue-paper posters, each decorated with stars, loopy silver writing, and a photograph of a pleasant-looking girl with short hair and a stud in her nose. She looked a bit barbaric, really. Then again, her birthday is rather close to mine, so no doubt that she is rather charming.
I just wish they hadn't shown up all around the school. The poster staring and winking at me while I got ready to shower was just a bit much.
~November 12th~ Friday
Suddenly got very depressed. No explanation as to why.
~November 24th~ Sunday
Number of Times Hair Washed: 2, Number of First Years Terrorized: 0, Number of Potion Explosions: 0 (I love week-ends), Points Taken from Gryffindor: 0, Toffees Received from Dumbledore: 0, Days until Doomsday: 5
Happier again. Took me long enough.
~November 29th~ Friday
12:05am
Happy birthday to me…
11:00pm
Dumbledore decided to thoroughly torture me this year, even more so than usual. I had just gone down to breakfast when he practically ran up to me with a small envelope and a big smile on his face.
"You get the day off, Severus!" he said, waving the envelope in the air.
I held back my glee. There had to be a catch.
Catch, indeed.
"And, for your birthday gift I got you a blind date. Here." He unceremoniously shoved the envelope in my hand. "Inside are the instructions on where and how to meet and what to wear. Enjoy your day!"
I stuffed it in my pocket and forgot about it (except for the day off), and didn't remember the note until I went back to my rooms an hour later, looking for a piece of gum that I had stashed away.
I opened the stupid thing, while fighting off the urge to burn it, and it read:
3rd step up
Leftmost stairs
Princes Street
Edinburgh
12:07pm
Casual Robes
Date will be wearing mask
I couldn't help thinking Great, it's Edinburgh! There's probably several people in the store wearing masks of various colours.
Hell, I didn't want to go anyway.
But after two hours of rummaging around my rooms with nothing to do and nothing worthwhile to think of, I settled to the idea that I should probably go unless I wanted to die of ennui.
When I arrived at the store, I waited for about three seconds (2.98 seconds too long) before my "blind date" showed up.
She/he/it was wearing a white theatre mask embellished with large, gaudy beads and with a purple feather sticking up right in the centre of the forehead.
"Um…hello," I said carefully, stepping down onto the next step of the stairway that was unusually empty. Everyone seemed to be suddenly running down the escalators instead of the stairs. Well, maybe not suddenly. It had been like that for a long time, for all I know.
But I'm getting off the subject. Sure, that might be a good thing, but I feel that I must write this down now so I can look back at it and laugh later.
Or cry.
Anyway, I couldn't help but think, "Hm, I hope it's Hermione." That damn little voice in the back of my head seems to now have pedophilic tendencies.
But, of course, it was not Hermione.
The mask suddenly came off. "Severus? You're my blind date?"
There she was. Thick glasses, thick, fake voice, thick skull and all. My blind date was Trelawney.
I almost fell back on the stairs in surprise.
"You're my blind date?"
Interesting note before I continue this oh-so-interesting story: I think that Sibyll, in Greek mythology, was a "great and accurate fortune teller who can see the future". See the future, my foot. Otherwise she would have known that we were going to be stuck together and could have sidestepped out of this monstrosity.
She sniffed and when she spoke, her voice was a bit restrained. "Vector set me up on this. She said that I needed a bit of a holiday otherwise my Inner Eye might film over." She crossed her arms across her thin body. "This isn't what I had in mind for a holiday."
"Not what I had in mind for a birthday either, thank you," I muttered. "You wouldn't happen to want to get drunk, would you?"
She looked at me in a manner that told me that she was somehow disgusted by me. "Do you know nothing? Alcohol is worse for the Eye than is a complete life in solitary confinement."
"Sad to hear that," I remarked coldly. "Let's just get this thing over with to kill time," I continued with a snarl. "I'm sick of standing here and seeing Muggles stare at us. We can go back to Hogwarts in an hour and pretend that we had a good time."
"Very well."
I cringed as she took my arm and I led her down the few steps and out into the street. After narrowly escaping being run over by several automobiles and a bus, we went over to the park and I dropped her arm, crossing mine across my chest and staring at the giant Sir Walter Scott monument.
I heard her mutter beside me, probably whining about some interruptions of her psychic waves in all the greenery. She then looked up at the monument and grimaced. "Such extravagant tombs for those whose spirit-"
"Let's shut up now, eh?" I fought off the urge to elbow her into the busy street.
"You cannot silence the-"
"I will hurt you."
She frowned, but finally remained silent. I noticed that people were regarding us strangely (most likely because of our robes, but honestly, big deal. I wasn't the one wearing a kilt).
"So, let's see…" I squinted around, trying to make out the signs in the distance, looking for somewhere to go for coffee or lunch. "Are there any places to eat around here?"
I couldn't see anything that looked promising. There were a few pubs in view, but they were fairly empty and the last thing I wanted to do was call attention to me and the horrid thing called my date.
She sighed huffily. "Why don't we just go back? Your essence annoys me."
"I don't know, I might never…" I trailed off. "Yes, let's go."
"Wait for a minute!" she said, turning toward me and grasping my arm. I could feel her pointy nails through my robes. "Shouldn't we kiss first? You know…just to say something happened…"
Before I could reject her, pull away, or hurl her into the street, her lips landed on mine.
I fought off a scream and pulled away quickly, diving into the bushes. Before she could land on top of me, I had managed to Apparate successfully.
Upon my return, about 3 minutes after the arrival in Edinburgh, I was promptly greeted by a cheery Dumbledore who regarded me with annoying piety.
"How did the date go, Severus?" he asked, tenting his fingers.
"Shut up, old man," I growled as I walked past, running the sleeve of my robes repeatedly across my lips. "Or you will find my wand promptly up your arse."
I love it when the twinkle goes out of his eyes. Best birthday present ever.
A/N: I love Edinburgh. I was originally going to shove them somewhere in London, around Piccadilly, but I couldn't find my stupid map…
"Your essence annoys me" is a trademark insult by my friend, Stephanie. "Snogwarts, a Kisstory" is the property of another author on ff.net, but I cannot remember who for the life of me. They're brilliant, whoever they are.
I also do own a kilt/skirt thing that I bought in Scotland. I love it. Severus just doesn't have good fashion sense.
Thanks to: Piggie (Ah, Hermione's is done. Though hopefully I'll be able to do the sequel soon), Skjeve, ronslilprincess, Antagonist Len, Colleen, little-lost-one, tifsuz, Renegade Seraph, winterspirit (me too, ha), Madame Plot Bunnie (I just had to show my utter disgust for all those drug questions), Dues Ex (haha, I love that word. It's the best), Smiley Mcfay, Rosemary, Leina (Yup, Hogwarts, I think, is believed to be somewhere north of Edinburgh and St Andrews in Scotland. Beautiful area), Loah, Feverfew (aw, I don't think Snape's ugly), Jazzylady, Miss Mina Murray, TeaRoses, Blondemomo, the soul cage (hm...well that could be a problem...), Sha, Aindel S. Druida (I understand! It's like the Australian way of calculating grades. That's how our basic class grades are, until they're converted to the 4.0 scale. And yes, recruit!)
The final survey questions will probably come much later in the story.
Click the button, please.