A New Year

"Severus," Dumbledore said heavily. "I simply can not allow you to teach here any longer if you insist on having that thing dangling from your nose."

"It is not dangling, Albus," Snape said indignantly. "It is a simple obsidian stud, nothing more, nothing less. No one will notice it."

Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his temples. They were meeting in his office, over the controversial issue that had arisen over the summer. Severus Snape, the sour, unchangeable Potions Master, had gotten his nose pierced.

"As much as I hate to do this, and with the school year so near . . ." Dumbledore watched Snape's black eyes flash.

"I will allow you stay on the faculty for the first semester. If, after that allowed time, complaints or problems have arisen, I must do my duty and ask you to find another job," Dumbledore finished.

Snape smiled grimly. "Yes, Albus." He stood up and left with a sweep of his robes.

—

A few weeks later, Snape watched in livid bewilderment as two first-year Hufflepuff girls cautiously inched up to him until they were directly in front of him. Then one gave a shrill, nervous giggle, poked him hard in the stomach, and took off with her friend. They were both shrieking like maniacs.

What has gotten into those little brats lately? Snape wondered to himself. I get my nose pierced, and they begin acting like I'm some kind of . . . I don't know, but they're acting different. It was the third time anyone had approached him and done that, and it was only the second week of school. For some reason, the Slytherins had not done anything of the sort, which was strange, because they were the chosen few who could get away with doing something to Snape without punishment. It was mostly Gryffindors, but a Ravenclaw had done it once, and now the two Hufflepuffs.

He took shelter in the shadows of a deep alcove, grumbling about incompetent first-years. To his immense surprise, the door opened as he leaned against it, and he felt someone bounce off him. When he had picked himself up off the floor, he glanced at his unfortunate victim. It was a fifth-year Gryffindor who, incidentally, was named Harry Potter.

"Potter! I don't know what you think you're doing here! Ten points from Gryffindor for tripping me, and if you don't get out of my sight this instant, it'll be twenty!" Snape barked. Harry hurried away quickly, but only after poking Snape's stomach. "And that's another five points for poking me!"

Snape decided to go to the library --- perhaps he'd find relief from all these insolent students. Upon reaching the library, his heart sank. Granger was there, absorbed in a book about Astronomy. And two of Snape's least favorite people — Fred and George Weasley — were heading in his direction. Snape looked around desperately for a place to hide, but the twins had already spotted him.

"Hello, Professor!" they chorused in overly-happy voices. Snape gulped. That couldn't be a good sign. He prayed to whatever gods were listening to get him out of there post-haste.

"We're having trouble with this potion for our joke shop . . ." Fred began.

". . . and we were hoping you could maybe . . ." George continued.

". . . help you with it?" Snape finished. A sneer curled his mouth.

"Exactly!" Fred said, beaming.

"No," Snape said coldly, and turned to leave. As he walked slowly and purposefully to the exit, Hermione came up to him.

"Professor, I was wondering . . ." Hermione said, "do you know who the Pillsbury Doughboy is?" Out of the blue, she poked him in the stomach and ran out the door, her bag bouncing against her shoulder. She couldn't hide a smile.

He stood rooted to the spot for a long moment, then began walking again. He thought about what Granger had said, and as it clicked into place, he ran to the Muggle Studies section and opened a thick book with MODERN MUGGLE ADVERTISEMENTS stamped on the front. For the oddest reason, the page it opened to coincided with his thoughts:

of Muggle advertisements. He has a rotund, white figure, much

like a puppet, and wears a chef's hat with the company symbol

emblazoned on it. In every known advertisement containing this

character, a Muggle in the advertisement has poked the stomach

of the Pillsbury Doughboy, causing the puppet to giggle in a shrill fashion.

Snape dropped the book as if it had burned him and positively ran to Dumbledore's office.

"WHATCHAMACALLIT!" Snape bellowed at the stone gargoyle, causing a few students in the halls to stare at him as though he had gone mad. He ran up the stairs and burst into the office, where Dumbledore was currently unwrapping an ice cream sandwich. He looked up as Snape entered.

"What is it, Severus?" he asked calmly.

"The students are — are," he faltered. Dumbledore just sat there and took a bite of his ice cream sandwich. Snape swore he saw the headmaster smile.

"Nevermind, Albus. There is no problem." Snape cursed himself. If he complained at all, Dumbledore would think that it all had something to do with Snape's nose stud. And if he thought that, then Snape would be in trouble. Dumbledore might decide to sack him. And Snape had no where else to go. He forced a smile, but the thought of being fired made him panicky. So, instead, the Head of Slytherin House exited the office as quickly as he had come.

Snape was ready to return to his office and sleep until his next lesson. Upon waking, he hurried to the Great Hall for lunch. On the way, he ran into — quite literally — Neville Longbottom. "LONGBOTTOM!"

"S-s-sorry, P-professor," Neville stuttered. He stood up, dusted himself off, and looked up at his teacher. Then he poked him in the stomach and ran, looking over his shoulder.

Snape's face contorted into an expression Neville had never seen before. Snape opened his mouth —

"FOR THE LAST TIME: I AM NOT THE PILLSBURY DOUGHBOY!"

As Snape stormed off, Dumbledore chuckled from the shadows. He had seen the whole thing. "Minerva, that was quite horrible of you. I do hope the students didn't torment him too much."

"Quite the contrary. It was an experience he will not forget, but it did him good," McGonagall said with a small smile.

"Now all we have to do is persuade him to get rid of that bolt through his nose."