Chapter Something

CHAPTER -5

'Hello F'thair,' said Hermione glumly, looking up at Snape.

'Hello dear child,' he said in a motherly tone, patting her on the crown of her head.

'Death said she wants her plates and wineglasses back,' Hermione informed Snivelfuck gleefully.

'Oh fuck, I forgot about that. Death's a biatch,' he said matter-of-fucktly. Hermione stared at him with greasy admiration - the greasiest in fact... or perhaps that was Snape-oil dripping off his face. You could cook bacon on that.

'Do you like bacon, Professor Fuck?' Hermione inquired curiously, knowing that he would choose to ignore this profane nickname owing to the fact that he was deeply in love with her intelligent self.

'Oh yes, small fuck, I love the bacon,' Snape said dismissively as he sifted through potions recipes on his desk. Each page, as Hermione glanced at them, had the word "fuck" written in big bold letters on it...several times.

Hermione enjoyed having private tutoring sessions with such an ugly individual. It made her feel so much prettier herself. And not only on the outside, but on the inside. Her heart palpitated from the self-confidence that was growing inside her very being and when the time came for Death to arrive, she'd know that she was so, so much better than Snape. Life was grand.

'Come now, my bi-atch,' Snivelfuck said angrily, interrupting her cheerful thoughts.

'What's on your mind Professor Fuck?'

'It is time to bring the potion to a gentle simmer you unintelligent pile of shit,' he said enthusiastically.

Yes, Hermione thought smugly, Snape wants me bad.

Snape didn't, really. He hated the little fuck girl and wanted nothing more than to whack her in her disfigured face. His real lover was Dumbly-dorr, who was in love with the unknowing Hermione and who was offering Snape the reward of sweet piglet pie for 100 days of painful tutoring lessons.

At this point, he picked up his recipe-book that was also a notebook and began writing busily, glancing up every so often. Hermione suspected he was writing the same word over and over again, beginning with F and ending in UCK.

It must have been Fire-truck.

Hermione watched Snape's barely existent lip curl in an unattractive fashion, he truly was the ugliest person she'd ever seen. She wondered what those barely existent, repulsive lips would feel like on her own and let out a series of high-pitched laughter that Snape supposed to be no more than obsessive compulsive shrieks.

Oh dear, she was making herself rather nervous. She wondered what would happen if she...

'Oh for Fuck's sake,' Snape groaned as Hermione accidentally on purpose knocked over the cauldron. Thick red gunk leaked all over the squeaky clean stone floor and Hermione tried to think quickly as Snape bent down to examine the mess. How can I get him to plait my hair? she contemplated with tears forming in her eyes..

Before she could come up with a sufficient plan, Snape had sneakily grabbed her ankle, sending her forward on to her face. She coughed and spluttered as she copped a large mouthful of the potion.

She sat up and wiped the heavy substance from her face.

'YOU FUCKER!' she screamed, 'IT'S FUCKING BOILING YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATH!'

He looked unperturbed as he began frolicking childishly around the Dungeons. Hermione licked her lips and blinked, taking in the taste of chilli and tomato.

'This is salsa you freak of fucking nature,' she noted scathingly. 'And you're the single most sexiest fuck I've ever come across in the however many years I've been a-fucking-live for.'

Without warning, Snape kicked a large amount of the delicious sauce at the dim little fuck sitting in the middle of his classroom.

SNAPE WANTS ME MORE THAN HE KNOWS, Hermione screamed in happy thought, and she said so.

'One day, you'll realize that the true sexiest man alive is,' at this point he looked out of the window that suddenly appeared in the wall with a dreamy look on his face, 'Dumblefuckerdore.'

He left the room and Hermione fell asleep. She'd had a long and wonderful day.