Squicktastic!

Chapter 3: Snakes and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails...

"This is an outrage to writers and creative minds worldwide!" Professor Snape roared, slamming a few rumpled parchments down on the desk in his office.

I knew I shouldn't have given you the script ahead of time. You know, when the students don't want to play fair, I can understand that. But you... you are a professor. You know the importance of quality work.

"Do you have any idea what kind of trouble this would cause for a Professor if this... this... dribble was in any way true?" he hissed at the omnipotent Author.

Look at it this way - if you agree not to give me any problems and cooperate like your colleague Minerva, I will conveniently forget to tell your students that you have a certain penchant for American negligee from Victoria's Secret.

Snape paled... quite a feat considering his usual sallow complexion. "You wouldn't dare," he choked in a hoarse whisper.

Try me.

"But... but how did you find out?" the Professor sputtered.

I have friends in low places...

"Damn you. Damn you all..."

... where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away...

"Oh shut up," Snape snapped. "Don't quote your hellacious Muggle country and western music. I don't have the patience for that today."

Excuse me... but it hasn't been referred to as 'country and western' since the late 1980s.

Snape flopped down behind his desk and began to shred the edges of the script bitterly, his face twisted into a scowl he normally reserved for Potter. "I hate you. I hate you with the passion of a thousand fleeting suns that burn the body and soul with the unquenchable sulfur of hell," he mumbled bitterly.

I'll take that as a yes.

***

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Snape roared from his desk at the front of the dungeon.

A Hufflepuff seventh-year tentatively raised her hand. "Professor... no one from Gryffindor House is in this room. This is the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw lesson."

Professor Snape pursed his thin, pale lips together in irritation. He contemplated this most unfortunate situation for quite a long moment before replying to the brazen Hufflepuff. "Find one."

The Hufflepuff looked to her deskmate, and then back to the professor. "Pardon me?" she asked nervously.

Snape sighed resignedly. "What did you not comprehend about my request?" he hissed, rising from his seat to hover over his desk. "I want you to walk outside of my dungeon, travel ever so carefully up the stairs, find me a Gryffindor - being a seventh-year would be ideal - and bring the insufferable little hellion." He paused, waiting for the girl to nod in understanding. "Does that seem so unreasonable? Now go!" he snapped. He allowed himself a subtle grin in amusement at the sheer speed at which the Hufflepuff bolted from the dungeons. Without a moment's hesitation, Snape returned his attention to the sniveling mass of horribly unprepared potions students. "Now, if we've all had quite enough of a break... although you certainly did not deserve one... we shall return to listing the ingredients of a Desire Draught."

The class had just finished decoding all of the ingredients of the esoteric potion from its original Latin when the Hufflepuff returned to the dungeon with not one but three Gryffindors in tow. Snape cracked a smile and chuckled to himself. "I ask for one, and I get three. Five points to Hufflepuff."

He walked over to the boys and glared down at them. "Welcome to my class, Messrs. Weasley, Weasley, and Jordan."

Fred, George, and Lee were all contemplating the safest move out of the classroom. Although none of them would dare to ever admit this afterwards, they were all feeling much like rabbits locked in a cage in the Transfiguration lab, waiting for Professor McGonagall to transfigure them into an inanimate object... or worse... letting someone like that Longbottom boy experiment on them.

"You're just in time to help the class with a little... experiment," Snape continued.

Fred snickered. "Ooh, experiments... I would never have guessed that experiments would be done in Potions..."

"SILENCE!" the Professor roared, slamming his hand down on the nearest desk. "I will not tolerate such contempt in my classroom!" His expression quickly softened into one of snarky amusement.

"Snarky amusement?" George mumbled. "What kind of a description is that?"

Oh, quiet you. You know what I mean.

"Let's play a little game, shall we?" Snape interrupted, sitting down on the nearby desk. "I would bet galleons to goblins that no one in this class has made the potion correctly." He motioned to Fred and George. "Pick two potions," he commanded.

The twins nodded hesitantly, duly frightened as to where this might be going. Fred selected the potion of a Ravenclaw, Miss Alasandressia Opalescence, and American transfer student with a dark and shady past that no one had successfully uncovered yet... although he had heard that Harry was getting close with the unending support of his lover Draco.

*

"I would like to take this opportunity to state for the record that I, Harry Potter, am NOT dating Draco Malfoy!" Harry hissed.

Draco snickered from his red velvet chair stationed at the end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. "You wish."

*

George, on the other hand, selected the potion of a Mr. Lysander Smithson... a Hufflepuff that was rumored to be the long lost descendent of Helga Hufflepuff and the possessor of powers that boggled the minds of even Albus Dumbledore.

Snape took one of the potions for himself and grinned menacingly at Fred. "Bottoms up, Mr. Weasley. Let's see if these work." Fred sniffed tentatively at the potion before swallowing it in a single gulp... while Snape did the same. Contrary to what the Professor had believed would happen, the potion did take effect.

"Bloody hell," George groaned. "I thought picking from the Mary Sues was safe."

"It's fanfic," Lee mumbled, taking a step back from the now flushed Professor and student. "Nothing is safe."

Of course it's safe! I would never do anything to hurt or deceive you, boys. Trust me.

Fred flashed a toothy grin while slowly running his fingers through his flaming red mane. "Professor... I never noticed how masculine you looked in your robes."

"How very true, Mr. Weasley," Snape murmured, rising from the desk and strolling liquidly over to Fred. "And you... Mr. Weasley," he said, trailing a pale, cool hand down Fred's chest, "are truly a god among men."

"I want to vomit," George replied.

"Don't make me live in such torment!" Snape cried, grabbing Fred around the waist and pulling his taught, manly body closer. The pair meshed together as if they were two pieces of the same puzzle... a picture now complete. "I can't bear the thought of living another day without you!"

Fred smiled languidly. "Oh... Severus. That's just the potion talking."

"No... no my darling," Snape replied, stroking the red hair just the way Fred liked. "This is my heart... my soul. For you are one with it."

"And I wish to become one with you," Fred replied, needing... wanting...

"You should do something to stop this!" Lee cried, motioning for George to act.

He'll do nothing of the sort... for once everyone is behaving exactly as the story dictates and you are NOT GOING TO RUIN IT!

Lee suddenly vanished.

George paled. "Wait... where did Lee go?" he mumbled, glancing tentatively above his head. "No disapparating on Hogwarts grounds!"

Who says he disapparated? The 'delete' key is a wonderful thing. That's what happens to story characters who don't want to play by the rules.

"I have to do something! Fred will never forgive me if I didn't. Twin pride and all that..." George looked around, trying to find a solution while shielding his eyes from the smut going on before him.

Snape shoved everything off of his desk, and threw himself down upon it. "Take me now, my ginger Adonis!" he cried, flinging his arms up towards Fred. "Ravish me, cleanse me, make me pure again..."

"Anything for you my love," Fred replied, throwing himself to the rapture of Snape's arms.

George closed his eyes and pointed his wand at the monstrosity on the Professor's desk. "I wish I had paid more attention in Charms," he muttered. "Stupefy!" he cast, throwing the charm, hopefully, at Professor Snape.

You two can't follow a script, can you?

George finally opened his eyes after hearing a tell-tale thud and laughter. Snape was lying on the ground in a rather... unbecoming... position. Fred was shaking his head and repeatedly wiping his hands on his robes.

"I touched Snape, I touched Snape, I touched Snape," his brother kept ranting over and over. Muttering and wiping, muttering and wiping...

"I'm glad to see you're no longer trying to hump the Potions Master like a bitch in heat," George laughed.

His laughter was interrupted by a large, black dog bursting through the dungeon doors and lunging at Fred. The twin was knocked down to the ground and forcing into another, well, compromising position.

"Snuffles!" a voice called, accompanied by the sound of feet thundering towards the dungeons. "Snuffles!"

George turned from gawking his brother and the dog to the voice entering the room. "Harry! Your dog?"

Harry nodded. "We were having a conversation and all of a sudden he dashed off, panting like his did when Madam Pomfery's poodle got loose in the building... what in all of Britain is Fred doing with Snuffles?"

George bit his lip to suppress the laughter. "I think the more pertinent question is what is your dog trying to do to my brother?"

"Bad Snuffles!" Harry snapped. Snuffles slouched against the floor, whimpering. "I honestly don't know why he'd act this way..."

"I do!" Fred wailed, still lying spread eagle on the floor and terrified to move lest he encourage another onslaught of ravaging affections from Merlin knows who else. "It's that bloody author!"

Hey, you mentioned a bitch in heat and I thought you might have been up for it, ok? Don't blame me... you should be more careful with what you say.

"Bloody hell!" Fred hissed.

Harry looked from Fred, to George, to the sky, trying to find the voice that was speaking to the boys. "Hey, what's going on? What's the echoing voice?"

George sighed. "That would be the Author," he explained. "Turns out as penance for past misdeeds-"

You are NOT being punished!

"-we are being forced to participate in a series of bloody awful shipping stories," George finished, ignoring the interruption by the omnipotent Author.

Harry paused. "Wait, if this is a shipping story, why is this only first time that I'm here?"

"You were in bloody chapter two!" Fred replied.

"I mean," Harry puzzled, "not that there is anything against you two... but people always ship me with everyone. I'm the main character."

Not in this story. I'm going back to the computer to figure something out... maybe a Malfoy...

"Bloody hell," Fred whimpered as he picked himself up from the ground. "You are not going to-"

You have no choice.

"... I mean, really, it wasn't Fred and George and the Philosopher's Stone, it was Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone..." Harry continued, oblivious to the fact that the twins had long stopped listening.

Yes, I think a Malfoy would be the best bet. I've heard that Lucius is a particularly succulent lover...

"It is times like these that I really wished I wasn't a fictional character," Fred whispered to his twin. "No say in anything I tell ya..."