Sev (rather resignedly): "So, shall we suppose that this Extensive Expository Excursion must lead inevitably to monstrous, mindboggling mayhem?"
Lucius (very doomedly): "Did you read Book 6?"
It's No Picnic
Chapter 4
On Monday morning, Snape (who was snugly wrapped within five quilts and an extra-fluffy pair of Earmuffles in hopes of not hearing his fiery-feathered friend's Dawnlight Sonata) was alarmingly awakened by a bookslide and when he scrambled clear of the downspilled tomes, he discovered Crabbe and Goyle crammed into bed with him. He was thankful that they were wearing their uniforms and concerned that they were flanking him like a pair of pit bulls about to fall upon a leg of mutton.
Goyle grabbed him by the collar and shook him right out of his Earmuffles so that Sev could hear Crabbe growl menacingly, "What've you got in here that's so good Witches sneak in?"
A dozen flip answers darted across Snape's sleep-hazed mind, but four years of being beaten up had instilled in him a life-preserving habit of Editing Responses for General Audiences and he coughed, "Lemme go and I'll show you."
Upon release, he squeezed past his interrogators and with both hands hauled open a large panel in one of the volume-inous walls, revealing a very nicely equipped miniature bar.
Crabbe grinned and affably punched Goyle's shoulder, proclaiming triumphantly, "I told you it had to be something out of a bottle. Pay up."
Goyle dug into his pocket and did so, gazing at the intoxicating array with the woebegone air of a Fifth Year who hadn't had the leverage of a Prefect's badge or the looks to gain him admission to the weekend's rumor-sparking revels. He asked, in the voice of a hungry orphan upholding a scraped bowl to aninscrutable Higher Power, "Can we try some?"
Snape blinked at him in surprise. A moment later his brain caught up with current events and he realized with glee that The Lure of the Legally Forbidden had overcome the curtailing caution which had so often impeded his experiments upon his roommates. He grinned, deftly crafted a pair of Zombies, and sent them on their way in perfect confidence that even if they made it to class they wouldn't be able to remember who had served them (or their own names).
Entranced by the Endless Possibilities suddenly spreading before him, Snape whistled cheerfully to himself as he set his coffee a-brewing and began to sort out the bookslide. In the middle of the muddle, as he hefted his battered copy of Dumbledore's Revised Rules for Chess On Many Levels, this oft-consulted tome let slip a little, lavender pamphlet entitled in scintillant scrollwork, A Bubbling Cauldron: A Young Witch's Guide to Developing Magick.
Under ordinary circumstances Sev would have classified this sort of thing as Third-rate Tinder, but considering his promise to Narcissa, he felt he should at least flip through the pink, perfumed pages. These were populated by winsome, wasp-waisted Witches wearing white aprons and even whiter smiles. He was appalled to find one proudly presenting a cauldron full of fondue to what supposedly were her delighted dinnerguests.
On the next page, she was standing at a sink, surrounded by bubbles containing miniature charwomen, and the stupid sorceress was actually singing along with their chorus as she cheerfully scoured her cheese-encrusted cauldron.
Snape turned back to the Table of Contents, which offered him his choice of:
Chapter One: Magickal Changes and Your Changing Magick
Chapter Two: The Benefits of Bathing
Chapter Three: Simple Social Spellcasting
Chapter Four: Working Your Wiles on Wizards
Chapter Five: Using Caution When Handling a Wand
Chapter Six: Moon Phases and Mood Swings
Chapter Seven: What to Do When He Won't Listen to You
Sev wrenched the book open to Salvation and eagerly scanned the pages.
There were ten of them and all of these were filled with insipid quizzes about Your True Feelings (which were marked up with four different colors of ink blotched by tearstains) and laughable theories as to What He's Really Thinking About (not one of which mentioned Sev's main concerns: SEX, How to Avoid Being Laughed At and Beaten Up So Often, Becoming a Legend and When Will I Stop Bashing My Elbows and Knees into Absolutely Everything?)
He cast the book aside contemptuously and turned back to his Muggle Studies manual, which was only slightly less incomprehensible. (He had explained his interest in this subject by insisting to Lucius that it was best to know What We're Up Against, without mentioning the inconvenient little detail of just whom he'd like to be Up Against.)
Since it was Monday (which starts with M which stands for Marauders Missing Mayhem all weekend long while their favorite target stayed shut away in the Slytherin Dormitory), he added a heaping tablespoonful of coca powder to his cup and tried not to be bothered by the inscription which now said: I am the Dark Lord and given the trouble you get into when your brain is functioning... "normally," I suggest that subjecting yourself to mind-altering essences will only exponentially exacerbate your present difficulties.