Number of times the world has ended 1
I'm becoming increasingly confident that I am afflicted with a psychological problem. My attraction to one Miss Granger has been, so far, unmatched by any other crush or funny feeling I have ever had for another person before. It cannot be healthy, for my mind and (definitely not) for my career. Not to mention that it is very unlikely that she will ever return my affections unless she's fostering some twisted form of the Elektra complex.
Ginevra Weasley, however, seems to have taken a liking to me. I suppose that that I could understand. With Harry Potter as a boyfriend (I shudder at that turn of phrase), she is probably the most frustrated (mentally and sexually) student in the school. But she is a rather frightening girl.
Of course, there is nothing to excuse her obscene behavior after my class today.
"Professor Snape," she said after the other students had left, tossing her bag over her shoulder and approaching me, the hungry Gryffindor glint in her eye.
I became immediately frightened.
"What is it, Miss Weasley?" I posed, crossing my arms defensively across my chest. Guard the heart, man, the Weasleys always go straight for the heart.
"This is kind of a personal question," she said, her eyebrow raised, looking like she was trying with difficulty to fight off a smile. "Are you interested, at all, in younger women?"
Good lord.
"I-uh…I don't see how that is any business of yours, Miss Weasley. In fact, I am certain that it is…well, not. Now, do your best to hide that Weasley coloring of yours and get out of my classroom."
My orders did not pacify that look in her eye. Actually, my embarrassed babbling and the obvious hot flush around my collar only made her erupt in the smug look of a kneazle who had just gotten the figurative cream.
"Yes, sir," she said smoothly and exited the room, looking behind her before I slammed the door.
Face burning, I immediately locked the door and took out a piece of parchment and an old, worn quill (I felt too dirty to even look upon my best one).
Miss Weasley,
If you are looking for an improvement to your dismal Potions mark, I suggest that you take up extra credit in written form, off of a list of several essay subjects on the uses of various Potions ingredients, and write them as far away from the dungeons as possible. I will not tolerate obscene behavior from anyone, especially not a student, and especially not a Weasley. If you ever try to pull a stunt like that again, I will be sure to report your actions to Dumbledore as well as your mother, who I am quite certain will not be very thrilled to hear the news that her daughter has turned into some sort of scarlet woman.
And if you are having problems with Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, I suggest that you see either Madam Pomfrey or a Psychiatrist (because Merlin knows you need the latter if you're adamantly seeing that dolt).
Sincerely,
S. Snape
Potions Master
Had Winky take it to Miss Weasley's room. Was quite satisfied with my accomplishment in writing a biting and socially acceptable letter until I received the reply no more than a half hour later.
With all due respect, sir, I was talking about Hermione. And leave my mum out of this, you greasy bastard.
G. Weasley
Was too confused and shocked to write a scathing response, deduct house points, or immediately fail her.
My secret is out.
May 13th Friday
All right, perhaps it's not out. If it was, I could just imagine what would happen. Minerva would show up my door with the Calvary, ready to chop off my head (I would guess the weapon of choice would be a sword, but a guillotine is more of Minerva's style). At least, she would if she was completely sane. But she's not, so I suppose I can scratch that. The rumor mill would definitely be running at high speed, though, no doubt about that. By now, I would have heard thousands of different variations of the tale:
"Yeah, she goes down the dungeons every night for extra credit."
"Did you know that Hermione and Snape are in love? Isn't that disgusting? I heard she's having a baby. Actually, twins. Identical ones. One belongs to Snape and one belongs to Ron."
"There's this horrible love polygon going on between Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Snape. All three of them want Snape, but he wants Ginny, and Ginny wants Harry, and Harry wants Hermione but Snape more, and Snape only likes Hermione a little bit."
Sadly, I've heard some variation of the second one spoken before. I truly hope that someone subjects Miss Brown to some form of sexual education soon.
For now, I suppose I'm safe. I suppose I'll just have sit back and wait for the Weasley blackmail to come rolling in.
May 17th Tuesday
Secret Missions Begun 1, Lemon drops received 7, Lemon drops thrown away 7, Number of Times Hair Washed 1
I apparently volunteered to go on a secret mission today, though honestly can't remember doing that. All I really remember is going to a mandatory faculty and student leadership meeting and staring at Hermione the entire time, wondering if she knew about my mental illness, while Dumbledore babbled on some nonsense about McGonagall disappearing. No surprise there.
Next thing I knew I was shaking hands with my solemn colleagues and Dumbledore was radiating pride in my direction.
Confused, I asked, "What am I doing?" I noticed that I must have been staring at empty space for at least five minutes, since Hermione had left the room.
"Why, Severus, my boy-diddly-oy," Dumbledore slurred, slipping his sweaty hand into mine and passing me lemon drops like they were illegal drugs. He gave it a hearty shake and smiled at me, twinkling so much I was expecting him to burst into flame. "You're going to go find Professor McGonagall, of course. Weren't you listening?"
"No."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, at least you're honest. On your way tomorrow, I suppose. We're guessing that Lucius has her, so that would be the first place to look."
"What about my classes? N.E.W.T.s are quickly approaching."
"Why, Hagrid's teaching them."
"What?"
"Hagrid's teaching them."
"Why?"
"Logical choice, of course. Really Severus, you should get some more sleep. You're sweating like a fat man in a room full of ponies."
There's no arguing with him when he's like that. Starting to suspect that his lemon drops are laced with something.
Thanks to: Lywinis, Blatant Discontent (honestly? No idea. I would have strangled him), pickles87, SnapeSeraphin (I don't know where the ideas come from. Sometimes their from events have happened to me (such as the hairspray in Potions class), but usually they just come out of nowhere), Julia Bartlett (The next chapter should entertain you immensely, then), NazgulGirl, Rally Gal, Natsuyori, sallene (Me, too. Maybe I'll work up the motivation to Photoshop it), sexy severus, Mio Granger (enough reviews? Never!), The Trinity Theory, CtrlAltDelete, Kitsuka (Hogwarts wouldn't be half as interesting without him. Actually, not interesting at all), Cynthia in West Virginia, elisa0984, joaniem (That's French...mostly :)), Rouge, Samilai, froggie27, Eggplant and Caviar (If you enjoy subtle and witty humor, I'd suggest Ouroborous by OlympiaManet2003 (you can find it in my favorites), and in my personal favorite of my own stories, the D.E.W.W. Conspiracies, which is also up for a Multifaceted award) for all of your reviews!
We're on the home stretch now!