Title: The Diary of Severus Snape 4/7
Authors: TrinityTheSheDevil and LeggyLover03
Rating: Adult
Genre: Humor
Warnings: Completely AU and totally OOC. If you're here looking for canon, please go elsewhere. We're so far off the mark it isn't even funny ... but ... yet it is funny! Mwahahahaha.
Summary: The diary of Snape, lasting through Harry's years at Hogwarts. (Written with LeggyLover03.)

A/N:

:Blinkblink: Ok, some of this ... not quite sure where it came from. We wish to tap into this reserve of evil ideas more often though. Also, we apologize for the rating change. However it cannot be helped. Some things are just too evil.

-

Year 2

September -

Another year at Hogwarts, which means another year with Potter. The opening feast we were graced of course with the other schools of wizardry and witchcraft. I myself loathe them both, and their headmaster/headmistress. Just as I sat down to enjoy my meal, who do I see staring over at me, but Karkaroff. many times I have warned this man to stay way from me.

A long time back in Voldemort's ranks, he got drunk, and exposed himself to me. He wished for me to see his Dark Mark, and I told him it wasn't on the head of his pecker. I awoke the next morning with a lump on my head, and a drawing of a snake on mine, with the words 'Property of Karkaroff" written on it. I was livid and began to beat him about the head.

Of course I was cursed by the Dark Lord for injuring one of his followers. If he were not enough Madame Maxine in her drunkenness has battered her eyes at me. I told her in no uncertain terms that I shall not be giving her the lovins she wishes, but she did not understand, and rubbed my thigh thinking it was Hagrid's.

The night I thought was over, and I could return to my room to plot on how to kill Potter painfully, when a storm started brewing outside, and in walked a very muddy Alastor Moody. The man should have been banished long ago. It is no secret that I hate him, even Dumbledore knows this. I glared at him, showing him my distaste for him even being there, and what does he do but sticks his tongue out at me.

I tried to ignore him, honest I did, but that tongue thing started to annoy me deeply. I pulled my wand out to hex him, but that big oaf Hagrid bumped into me and I landed face first on top of him instead. I couldn't move, as he was on top of me, and he couldn't stand with his leg under the table where it landed.

His tongue flicked in my ear and I flipped out! McGonagall tried to help me up, but that only ended in her landing atop both of us. I am now in need of fire whiskey and a wash cloth. Seems Moody not only licked my ear but also tried to stick his tongue down my throat. He stopped that when I bit his tongue, but he kicked me in my balls for it.

McGonagall didn't help matters as she climbed over me, to stand and I saw up her tartan dress. A woman of that age should not go without under garments, for white hooha hair is something that I do not wish to see.

Potter will have to die tomorrow. Tonight I must soak my tongue in alcohol, and owl order McGonagall some underwear.

October -

A visitor arrived here at Hogwarts to observe the school for a few months. I was told by Dumbledore that she was to receive special treatment, for she was a 'sensitive individual'. And then she walked in the door. At first I thought she was a relative of Madame Maxine, but it seems she is not. Rather, a very, very large woman. I told Dumbledore that the only special treatment she should get is to be thrown from a plane over Ethiopia, for they are hungry and she would feed them for many months. I shudder again a I think of the small man with the spoon.

I greeted her politely of course, since she was from another school, and we are always trying to improve our relationships with other places. She told me that she had never seen a place like Hogwarts, for it was so big and beautiful, and then asked me if I loved things that were big and beautiful. I could not speak at that moment, but not because I had nothing to say. More, I was trying to remove her hand from the inside of my thigh and keep her lips away from mine.

I fled back to my room straight after, fearing that if I rejected her in the way that I wanted to, she would be offended and leave. Not that I would mind, but I respected Dumbledore's wishes. Until the next morning, however, when she came to sit at the teacher's table at breakfast. As she moved to sit down, she tripped (over what, I do not know) and clipped the table with, from what I saw, her left asscheek. The table broke clean in two. I was shocked at first. I mean how does one break a table in two pieces with just their left asscheek? I began to form schedules in my head to have the students figure out this equation. How fast would she have to fall, how much would her left asscheek have to weigh, and how hard would she have to hit to equal that much force?

But anyway. The entire great hall shook, and some students even fell over. I should not have laughed, but the woman was trapped in the remains of the table and could not stand again. It took Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and my magic together to hoist the woman back on her feet. The last we saw of her, she was fleeing from Hogwarts to go back to her own school, and her progress was noted on the muggle Richter scale.

I do hope she never returns, for our lovely tables are very hard to come by.

November -

It had been a very long week. I was tired; so tired that I fell asleep on my bed and did not bother to undress or even lock the door. All I wanted was sleep, and damn anybody who wished to kill me while I was resting.

While I slept, I had such a lovely dream. I dreamt that I was carving a woman from some soft substance. A beautiful woman it was; when I was done, she came to life, and clasped my face with her hands. We kissed and began to make love.

I did not want the dream to end, for I was enjoying it quite a bit. I was somewhat disturbed when the woman started uttering soft "squish" sounds, but paid it no mind, for I had a gorgeous woman beneath me. "Snape!" I heard come from her lips, but with Potter's voice. It was odd, but still I continued on.

"Professor Snape!" She called again with the boy's voice. I slowed down, staring at her strangely. "SNAPE!" She called, and I opened my eyes.

Wait, opened my eyes? What the hell? It was then that I realized it was all a dream. Well, some of it. During the dream I had sleptwalk to my own kitchen area and carved a hole into a pumpkin, and ... well, let us just say I know what that squishing sound was.

As I turned to stare at Harry, who apparently was there to inform me I was late for my own class, I forgot about the pumpkin. It hung from my nether regions, swaying to and fro, with pumpkin drippings plopping onto the floor. Harry was looking at me with both eyebrows raised.

"I will tell nobody so long as you tell nobody that I just saw that." He said.

I agreed, of course, even though I was tempted to obliviate him. Dumbledore had warned me against that though, since Harry had been obliviated quite a bit over the past few years. I took a quick shower to remove the juice from the pumpkin and other things, and then walked to the classroom with Harry. On the way there, I looked at him and said, "Potter, your hair is a mess. Have you no decency? You should learn to use a brush."

To which he replied, "I was not the one who was found making hot sweet monkey love to a pumpkin."

I could say nothing, for he had a point. However, I am now left wondering what exactly "hot sweet monkey love" is, and if my performance on an inanimate object was so great, could I impress an actual woman with these talents.

December -

Deck the halls my ass. The wee bit of happiness I got was doused as Weasley and Potter made up. I felt the urge to drink myself into a stupor to forget the images of happiness that everyone seemed to have.

If that wasn't enough they announced the Yule Ball, and I detest balls. The Yule Ball began with those annoying children parading around, the girls half dressed, the boys looking rather stupid, but by far the worst was Weasley.

I was forced to stand guard over the heathens, and was even asked to dance by Minerva. She would not leave me alone, she dragged me onto the dance floor, and put her hand on my ass. I must say at first I was shocked, but more so when her hand began to move up and down. This is when I knew I had to get out of there.

I spent the next two hours catching the kids trying to snog in the carriages, behind the statue in the garden, and even inside the bushes. I mean honestly what is the fascination with tonguing another person. I myself am above such acts, and I was willing to hex them all.

Karkaroff found me wandering around doing my job and the twit would not stop following me. He was like a roach, that just seemed to keep coming back, and I wanted to hex him as well. I was not expecting it, and he pinned me up against one of the carriages. The first hint that something was wrong was when he went to whisper something to me, and his tongue slipped into my ear. I promptly growled, and froze his tongue in place. I smiled at my handiwork, but he was not to be stopped.

Before I could react the man placed his hands on his hips and removed his pants. It was snowing! He had to be cold, and from the way his wang shriveled back inside his body I was sure of it. Did that stop him, no. He rubbed up against me, and I swear I kicked with all my might. What did I get for my troubles you ask? Well, I scared the piss out of Karkaroff literally, and then he begged me on his hands and knees to not reveal him to anyone.

This was the time Dumbledore chose to show up, with Karkaroff on his knees in front of me, his head level with my own pecker, and without his pants. Damn Christmas, damn the queers who seek me out, for I know I am irresistible. Kararoff had to be seen by Pomfrey for frostbite, and I am writing to his family describing in detail his love for goats in heat, snicker.

January -

I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I know Potter was behind it. When I awoke one morning, I found myself unable to lie. It is not such a big thing, and I thought that I could last the day without any major mishaps. It seems I was very wrong in this assumption.

After I informed McGonagall she had "saggy hooters", told Dumbledore I needed to get laid badly, and let slip in my conversation with the Minister of Magic that I have had the shits for an entire week with no end in sight, I decided to hide in my room until this wears off.

Potter shall die, of this I am sure.

February -

A date is what Dumbledore called it. Supposedly he set me up with a date, and then laid a guilt trip on me till I caved to his demands. I am now dressed in muggle attire no less, and I hate it.

I walked to the restaurant where I was to meet this woman, Dumbledore saying we matched according to the muggle contraption called the computer. I waited for over twenty minutes for this woman, and when she showed up I felt less of a man.

I ordered a steak, medium rare, and she ordered an entire rack of lamb. I watched as she sucked every drop of the meat off, picking her teeth with the bones. If that was not enough she then began to suck on my fingers I thought, but no she was actually biting my nails off. These she spit into my wine glass.

To say the night was over was one thing, but the rack of lamb began speaking of a return in the way of her producing a foul odor. I once thought the innards of a goat were the worst odor but no, it was in fact the farts coming from my date.

I left her at the table, my valentine over, as she began sniffing the fingers of the people sitting next to us. Dumbledore must die for this.

March -

I have vowed to never again investigate a noise without first trying to see what it is. As I was heading towards the roof to study the stars for a moment so that I would know if my new potion would turn out right, I heard a strange "aaahhh". Thinking it was one (or two) of the students out of bed and doing things they shouldn't be, I swiftly stepped behind them and grabbed what I thought was a robe.

I was badly mistaken.

Instead, it seems Dumbledore himself was on the roof, doing things that HE shouldn't have been, and I had grabbed the towel that held the results of his activities. To say I was disgusted would be putting it mildly. To say I was on the verge of throwing up would be more accurate. As I stood there, thinking "Oh my god. Old man ... old man jizz ... crusty jizz on my hand ... ", Dumbledore looked quite happy. I'm sure he would be, as after all, he had just gotten through wacking his willy and was no doubt feeling some amount of pride. (How does one so old still get it to work?)

I flung the towel down and ran into my room, screaming "SCOURGIFY!" the entire way. I did not sleep, and all through the next day students who came near me heard me uttering the scourgify spell over and over until my hand turned a raw red color. My nightmare was not over though, for that night in the Great Hall, we were served cream corn. I looked at the food with complete and utter disgust ... and then, Dumbledore reached across the table to offer me a chicken leg.

The entire student body watched as I ran from the Great Hall with my hands clapped over my mouth holding back the vomit. I am now getting ready for bed since I cannot hold my eyes open any longer, but I have my hand soaking in a large bowl of cleaning solution. Perhaps tomorrow I will not feel so dirty but I doubt it.

April -

I have locked myself in my room. I have never been so traumatized in all my life. I was not expecting the practical joke, least of all by who I thought was Dumbledore. I received an invitation to dine in a new restaurant. Once I arrived I was seated and served the most delicious food. The pot roast being delightful. Before dessert music started, strange music and I found myself staring at over twenty women, naked and dancing about the room.

I was appalled, my mouth hanging open in horror, until I saw what they were dancing around. In the middle of the room sat a women completely naked, and weighing no less than six hundred pounds. I stood up to leave, but it seems instead that meant I had volunteered.

I was marched over to the fat woman and she nodded her head towards me. The owner then told me I was to eat grapes from her navel, as a token of good faith. I had my fork in my hand and thought I could simply stab this woman and get away, I was wrong. The folds of flab were lifted and I saw her navel. My head went in but it did not come out so easily, and the sweat from her body slicked my hair back.

I was then told of the other rituals that should be performed and I lost it. "Eat a grape from her navel, a row of green beans from her toes! What the hell do you mean slather her ass in the purified milk of a goat? I am sure if you part her ass you will find the goat, and a few more things!"

Several people were now glaring at me, including the woman. I parted her ass crack with disgust and found cookie crumbs. Logic escaped me then, for I could not reason why or how cookie crumbs had gotten into her ass crevice. Upon looking again I spotted half a hot dog, two butter beans, and a piece of cheese. I could not imagine touching it so I stabbed my spoon into her ass and fled the restaurant.

The next day as I sat at the Head Table in the Great Hall I looked down at the Daily Prophet. The headline in huge flashing letters read, "SACRED ANIMAL FOUND." I was intrigued and read further. 'Hundreds revealed reports say that the animal in question has been hiding in the fat woman's ass, but it seems the butter beans she had last night for dinner gave her tremendous gas, and she in turn farted.

The fart sent the animal hurtling from her ass at a rapid speed, killing the waiter and damaging the wall behind him.

Dumbledore is now asking me why I am eating my ice cream with a fork, but I do not think I can ever touch a spoon again, knowing mine is still lost somewhere in the fat lady's ass. Potter of course was the culprit, and he shall pay for this, oh he shall pay, for now I must go throw up, and try to rid my mind of the images within it.

May -

There are some things a man should not see. Hagrid and Madame Maxine waltzing naked through the maze that is growing is one of them.

Dear god my eyes are still burning!

June -

I have waited all year for my revenge, and I stood on the train waiting for the prank to go off. Just as expected the stink bomb went off in Potter's compartment. I was all smiles, my laughter barely contained, but instead of being upset when he stepped from the smoking train he was smiling.

I didn't understand it then, but when I returned to my room I found a glass of what I thought was fire whiskey. I drank it in victory when the owl swopped in, note attached to its foot.

The note read of how they had expected me to seek revenge, and also went further to tell me of the drugs they had slipped into my drink.

It took two days to wear off, but by that time I had accosted Minerva, Poppy, two house elves, and the goat in Hagrid's house. I am shamed, and my doctor says that I must wear it in a sling. Potter must not come back to Hogwarts.

July -

So now it comes to it. Voldemort is back, Moody was not really Moody, and yet again Harry Potter has survived. He retold the story to us and I have to say I laughed. I overheard Voldemort's real reason for coming back, and it was not just to kill Harry Potter, although that was a plus.

It seems that the pocket pussy is not usable for one in the form that Voldemort just changed from. Serves him right for abandoning me all those months ago and taking it with him, the bastard. I hope it electrocutes him.

At least I have the rest of the summer to look forward to now and NO Harry Potter. Insert extreme happy thought here.

Always,
Severus Snape

TBC ...