The Seduction of Severus Snape

Chapter 6: Stabbing Joy

* ~ December 5 ~ *

Today was hectic to the extreme. I'm still in shock over Colin's sudden development of a backbone, and now Ginny keeps making huge eyes and saying "Awww!" every time we come within two meters of each other. It's extremely exasperating. I decided not to inform my parents of the situation, because last time... Well, that's not worth thinking about at the moment.

At least I had some peace over the weekend. I saw Professor Snape a few times, but he seems to be actively avoiding me (again) so disaster was, thankfully, averted. I did, however, encounter Professor Lupin in the library. And, surprisingly enough, he seemed to know about the last task I'd performed upon Professor Snape. He seemed rather amused, which I don't blame him for.

Anyway, back to today. Which was hectic. As I've already clarified. First, the mail brought Dad's birthday presents to me (thanks be to God that Mum didn't have a hand in selecting them) which were: an old-fashioned type-writer, and a copy of The Joy of Gay Sex. Alright, my dad is really creepy. And knows me all too well.

Then, there was potions. I arrived, sat down, and quietly read my new book, The Joy of Gay Sex, heehee. Professor Snape glanced up at me once and I could tell he saw the title of the book, because he went red all the way to the ears before looking back down at the papers he was grading. He always seems to be grading something. Maybe he should get a new hobby, like... Having sex with Professor Lupin.

Everyone came into class, bell rang, so on and so forth. Then... Ultimate humiliation. Luna, brandishing an enlarged version of one of those heart-shaped candy boxes that people get on Valentine's Day, made her way to the front of the room and presented it to Professor Snape. He got this look on his face that clearly read, "Oh, no. Not you, too." However, he simply snatched the box away and tried to shoo Luna back to her seat.

She wasn't moving, though. She just stared and stared at him, with those big, orb-like eyes. After a few minutes under such torture, Professor Snape shuddered and gave in, gingerly opening the box. From which he extracted the puppets that Luna had sewn. Which were being held together at the hand by a red heart.

The only sound in the room as Luna made her way back to her seat was the thump of my head hitting my desk. As I stared at the dark wood, I faintly registered Professor Snape's voice, at barely a hiss. "Detention, Miss Lovegood, Miss Page."

"I had nothing to do with it..." I protested weakly as the class started sniggering uncontrollably.

"And ten points from Ravenclaw. I'll see you both in my office immediately after dinner tonight." With a few well-placed glares, he silenced the class and started the lesson; he stowed the puppets in his desk, presumably to fuel a fire later on in the night.

Afterwards was herbology, a class in which we've had a steady, eclectic stream of substitute teachers ever since Professor Sprout died last year. That class was with the Slytherins, who I thought would be bearable, but apparently not. They kept making references to my wild displays of unadultered affection towards Professor Snape.

Then there was lunch, then Defense Against the Dark Arts, in which we learned advanced applications of something to something else. I wasn't listening at all (seems to be becoming a habit) and doodling naked pictures of Professor Snape in my notes when along came Professor Lupin and... Well, you can pretty much guess the view he got. Thank Merlin I'm on his good side, or else I probably would have gotten in trouble. Instead, he said something about listening or whatever and went back to lecturing. Of course, my inattentiveness didn't come in so handy during the practical stage of the class. Luna had to tell me what it was exactly that we were doing and my performance after that was... Less than stellar. Of course, Professor Lupin being the mother hen that he is, or something like that, felt the need to talk to me after class. I swear, if I didn't already know he was gay I'd say he wanted to get in my pants.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Nadia, I noticed that you were a little... Distracted... During class. Is there any particular reason for it?" Hmm... Professor Snape is too damned sexy for his own good?

"Er... I... Just haven't been sleeping well lately. I'm sorry, Professor. It won't happen again." At least Professor Lupin is a bit more forgiving than Professor Snape.

"You're not sleeping well? Is there something wrong?" Alright, I've come to the conclusion that there has to be some ulterior motive to him being so blatantly nice to me. He's nice to all his students, but not this nice.

"No... Nothing I can think of." Aww, he looked so cute with his brow furrowed.

"Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, my door is always open."

"Alright, Professor. Oh!" It was at that time that I remembered my... Birthday present. "I have something to show you!" He raised his eyebrows, looking a bit apprehensive.

"Really? What?" I searched in my back until I found The Joy of Gay Sex, then pulled it out and showed it to him.

"Now I have it, too!" I love it when he blushes.

"Er... Ahm... I... See." He seemed rather uncomfortable. Good! "...Where did you get that, anyway? And what would you use it for?"

"I got it from my dad. And I can use it for my writing."

"...I suppose it would be best not to ask." Especially since most of the stories involve him.

"This is really a great book just to have for fun, too."

"I think that's enough chatting for one day," Professor Lupin replied quickly, holding up his hands as if in a surrender and smiling nervously.

"Okay, see you later, then." I grabbed my bag and left, intending to get a head start on some of my homework. However, as I was passing through the courtyard, who would I see but... (Drum roll) Colin! Oi.

"Hey, Colin." I really don't know why people seem to give me the deer-in-headlights look so often, but it never gets old.

"Oh. Hi."

"How are you?"

"Fine." Silence. I sighed and sat down on a bench, taking some time to relax.

"So," I began uncertainly, "I'm... looking forward to the Yule Ball."

"Yeah. Me too." More silence. Damn you, Colin.

"I've got homework to get to. I'll see you later."

"Right. See you later." So, I left Colin to his own devices and instead spent my valuable time doing... Homework. Icky. Then there was dinner, which was boring. Afterwards, Luna and I went down to the dungeons for our detention.

Professor Snape was surprisingly... What's the word? Civil. He told us to take inventory of the student stores and then just sat and read. Since there were two of us, we made quick work of it, which was quite fortunate, since I hate doing inventory. "Professor? We're done."

"Hm?" Blinking, he set the book down and I thought I saw... But it's really silly. I thought that the title on the cover read Treasure Island. I was probably mistaken, though. "Oh." He glared at us, obviously angry that we hadn't suffered as much as he'd hoped. "You may go," He said tightly, turning back to his book as he waved us off. So, we went on our merry way, and I wondered if Professor Snape might have broken. There must be some reason he was acting so mellow. Oh, well. At least he isn't running around drinking people's blood.

* ~ December 11 ~ *

Oh, wow. Another task fulfilled, and plenty of quality time with Professor Snape. In detention. Two days ago, I happened to be talking to Luna and Ginny in the courtyard about SSS matters. We were trying to think up another task for me to complete, when Luna suddenly seemed to be hit by a brainstorm, and when it cleared, she shared with us her marvelous idea.

"Snip off a lock of his hair." I stared at her for a very long time.

"And... Why would I do that?"

"Because," Ginny interjected in a matter-of-fact tone, "it's kind of like Colin's hair-smelling idea. People snip off locks of each other's hair and keep them in boxes or diaries or lockets or something as a sign of love. Really, it started with wizards, because a lock of the beloved's hair is essential to any basic love spell or potion."

"I see." Ginny immediately started rummaging around in her bag, finally pulling out a shiny, sharp and sinister-looking pair of scissors.

"Here." She handed them to me. "You'll have to do it the traditional way. We wouldn't want any magical interference if we decided to use it later." I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, Madam Telulah, greatest of all Gypsy queens."

"Hey, I'm serious!" I let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Alright. Where's Colin, anyway?" Ginny snorted, a grin spreading across her face.

"He said he's too nervous to talk to you."

"What a puss," I muttered immediately. It was really more of a reflex than anything else.

"You should be nicer to him," Ginny scolded. I noticed at that instant that Luna was playing cat's cradle as we argued. "He is your boyfriend, now, after all." It took me a moment to absorb the comment.

"Wait, wait, wait- who said he was my boyfriend!?" Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"You are going to the Yule Ball with him, right?"

"But that's completely different! We're not- not- a couple!" She stared at me, starting to get a worried look in her eyes. I wasn't sure why until she had to go and open her big mouth.

"Oh, Nadia... I know you're still hurting from... What happened... But you need to move on." She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, apparently intended for comfort. "You can't be afraid of relationships just because of that mess with Blaise."

"Ginny. Are you mad? That's not it!" Really, it's not. Though I kind of feel like it should be, now that I think of it. "I just- One date does not make us a couple. Alright?" I didn't wait for a response. "Yes? GOOD." She still looked rather doubtful.

"Oh. Well, whatever's going on... I'm sure snipping off a lock of Professor Snape's hair while he's not looking should take your mind off of it."

"Thanks so much for the favor." With that, I stood and left to prowl the halls, the scissors clutched tightly in my hand.

Blaise Zabini.

Hmmm.

Blaise.

Now that is a sensitive subject, if there ever was one. To write, or not to write? Well, I've never written the whole thing down, journal or no journal. Hell, I've barely even talked about it. I barely talked about it while it was happening! Especially not to my parents. Although he didn't seem to mind at the time, I doubt it was pleasant for Dad to find out about us by finding us in bed together.

But maybe I should start from the beginning. Blaise and I had already known each other for a while before we actually became a couple, since my father and his mother know each other. We talked a few times, spent time at unavoidable social events once in a while, but we weren't good friends. After a bit, (meaning, a very long time) I started to fancy him for one reason or another, but, being the way I am, refused to do or say anything about it. I wasn't even sure if he liked me at all, at the time.

It was a particularly windy evening when I had haphazardly wandered into the path of the Whomping Willow while returning from a detention we had served together. Blaise, being the ever valiant knight-in-shining-armor he was, pulled me out of the way and called me... what was it? A daft wench, I believe. Well, charmed by his amorous words, I of course returned them, calling him a rude bastard. After the flirting was through, I thanked him and was about to be on my way when he called me back. I'm a polite person, of course, so I returned to speak to him, only to find that I was instead being kissed. That was my first kiss.

To make an even longer story short: we dated, we broke up, the end.

Well, alright, there was a little more to it than that... More than just a little, actually. But... I don't know about putting it on paper. What do you think, Mr. Quill?

I think you're a daft nutter, if you think a quill is going to answer you back.

There you go. I won't write any more of those painful details, then.

Are you sure? It's very therapeutic, you know.

Shut up, Mr. Quill. Nobody asked you.

...Now I know I'm going mad. Writing back and forth to a quill probably isn't the healthiest of pastimes, but I'm probably just doing it to stall.

You most certainly are.

Alright, that's enough of Mr. Quill. I give in to your demands, Quill! I'll write everything down. But in a very vague way.

Blaise = Death Eater = Dead. The end.

Fine, fine, I know that's far too vague, but... Still. I don't want to write it. Please don't make me, Mr. Quill. Okay, I'll write it down.

Blaise and I became a couple. Which is how I got to a first name basis with Draco Malfoy, in case anyone was wondering. He's gay, by the way. Ooh! Maybe I could set him up with Professor Lupin? That would be so hot. But enough stalling.

I was happy with Blaise. He was intelligent, cunning, ambitious, sarcastic... You know, all those good things. I know he was no Prince Charming on a gleaming white stallion, but to be honest, Prince Charming can suck my big fat cock. I don't care at all for him. What I've always wanted was a pirate captain on a black-sailed ship. Which is another story for another day.

Anyway, I really fell for Blaise. Hard. And from what I've come to understand, the feeling was mutual. He was a sweet guy, really. He just... Grew up in the wrong family; fell in with the wrong crowd; made the wrong decisions. Whatever you want to call it. I found out that he was a Death Eater. The realization hit me kind of hard, seeing as how my mother and her whole side of the family are all muggles and I'm actively opposed to all that pureblood horse shit. To put it mildly. Besides the fact, my father was involved with the Order of the Phoenix.

I talked to Blaise, but he was set in his ways. Stubborn as always, he refused to switch sides. And, stubborn as always, so did I. We tried, we really did... But... It was just too much for me. I had to choose between Blaise and my beliefs. Needless to say, that was one competition Blaise did not win. So, I... Broke it off. It was a very difficult thing to do- and painful, too- but I still stand by the fact that it was the right thing. I was extremely upset after that, but I was lucky to have Dad around to offer emotional support and all that jazz.

Then came Judgement Day, the day that Harry Potter defeated Lord Voldemort and the whole of the wizarding world let out a collective, "Yay!" Except for me. Because that was the day that Blaise died. And, despite everything, I still loved him, even if I may not have been in love with him.

He told me he loved me that day.

Five minutes later, he was dead.

Kind of a shocker, I would think.

So... Er... Right. On with the hair snipping tale. And no those are not tears smudging the words. It's just... I'm outside and it's raining. So there.

Where was I with the next task? Oh, yes. I was walking through the corridors with my borrowed pair of scissors, keeping my eyes peeled, when lo and behold, there was Professor Snape. Flitting over to the wall and keeping to the shadows, I silently stalked my prey. I would have to get the hair without him noticing, which, let's think now- most likely isn't possible. I mean, come on- he's a former spy. However, I think I was doing rather well. I followed him all the way to the Grand staircase, finally coming withing cutting range.

Oh so carefully, silently, stealthily... I leaned forward. I knew I would have to get the hair quickly, since he had already started descending the staircase. I reached out, and, elated, got my snippet of hair. However, it was barely seconds after I'd retrieved the hair that I realized that I had overbalanced and, unable to do anything but brace myself against the impact, toppled forward and crashed into Professor Snape.

We went tumbling down the staircase in a heap of robes and flashing metal. Landing with a thump, and at least a few bruised ribs (in my opinion, at least,) I merely lay on the ground to catch my breath. I was aware of Professor Snape groaning from beside me, and sat up just in time to see him pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. I had to suppress a laugh at the sight of him- mostly because the scissors were sticking out of his bum. I'm sure it was very painful, but... It just looked so funny.

"Oh, my," I managed to work out through quiet chuckles. "Professor, are you alright?" He glared at me, then seemed to realize where my gaze was directed and, unable to turn around to look for himself, he slowly reached back and felt about until his fingers found the protruding pair of scissors. With a soft yelp, he yanked his hand away, grimacing dramatically. He looked so silly and helpless that it was absolutely endearing.

"If you were a Slytherin, I would expel you on the spot," he ground out slowly, obviously trying not to show any signs of pain.

"Hold on, Professor," I sighed, finally letting my giggles escape as I crawled towards him. "I'll help you."

"What- no! What are you doing? Get away from me!" Despite his protests and feeble escape attempts, I managed to make my way around behind him and firmly grasped the scissors. I heard him let out something that sounded suspiciously like a whimper and, bracing myself so I wouldn't get stabbed in the process, quickly yanked them out. He let out a short howl of pain, practically jumping out of his skin.

"Really, Professor. Don't be such a baby." I dropped the alarmingly bloodied scissors and examined the puncture wound. Ah, I'm so ashamed of myself for damaging such a beautiful backside. "I think you should go to the hospital wing."

"How observant of you," he growled, yelping as I felt the area around the wound for bruising. "What are you doing!?"

"I'm only trying to help, Professor." He looks so delicious on his hands and knees. "Try to stay still." I crawled around in front of him and pondered the situation for a bit. "Mobilicorpus." That seemed to work fairly well.

"Put me down! This is humiliating! Thirty points from Ravenclaw!" Well, except for the sniping. But, as an upstanding citizen and loyal student, it was my duty to bring him to the infirmary. Besides, I was hoping to get a peek at him stripped for his examination.

After much trouble, complaining, sniping, and points off of Ravenclaw, I finally managed to get the professor into the hospital wing and presented him to Madam Pomfrey. She made a "tsk" sound and dragged Professor Snape over to the nearest bed, looking him over and raising an eyebrow at his injury, but saying nothing. That's one thing I like about her- she doesn't ask for details. After checking me over as well, and declaring me healthy aside from a few minor bruises that would go away pretty quickly on their own, she started shooing me out the door. "Alright, dear," she sighed, "Professor Snape will be fine. You can go on your way, now." I was very disappointed, but then, to my surprise, Professor Snape protested.

"No, let her stay," he grumbled. "I need to have a word with Miss Page." Well, that didn't sound too good.

"Alright." By the look on her face, she seemed to sense the ominous cloud that had just descended upon the room, as well. "Now, dear, you just sit down in one of the empty seats and I'll tell you when I'm done patching up the professor." Nodding, I backed up into a chair and plopped down, sighing.

While I waited, I discreetly watched as Madam Pomfrey pulled the privacy curtain around Professor Snape's bed and, from what I could discern, forced him to strip. Silhouettes may not be very detailed, but they're good enough for a general idea, and let me just say, I happened to be getting a very good idea from this one in particular. Growl. After much sniping and argument, Madame Pomfrey sanitized the scissor-wound, put some sort of potion on it, bandaged it, and forced Professor Snape into infirmary pajamas. From what I could hear, she was making him stay overnight, just to make sure that there was no infection. I think it's good for her to be cautious like that, seeing as an infection in that area would be rather unpleasant.

When Madam Pomfrey pulled back the privacy curtain, revealing a disgruntled looking Professor Snape lying in bed on his stomach, she signaled that I could approach. Though, from the look in his eyes, I don't think I would want to, given the choice. Since I was not given any choice, I dragged a chair up to the bedside and sat down, chuckling nervously. "Well, this is something you don't see happen every day." His glare intensified. "Stripes suit you, by the way." A sneer joined it. "I- er- am sorry." Which is true. I hope there's no lasting damage to that gorgeous bum of his.

"Miss Page," he finally hissed, propping himself up on his elbows. "Perhaps you would care to explain to me why you felt such a strong urge to push me down a flight of stairs and stab me?" Well, it's not like I was bloodthirsty and stalking him with a butcher knife or something.

"There's a very simple explanation, Professor." I just had to think of one. "I was- er- making a... You know, one of those er... Whatchyamacallit thingies, you know- the type with the opening and closing and- I had a pair of scissors and- well then I er- slipped. There you go!" It sounded good at the time. Though, given the gift of hindsight, I think that perhaps I shouldn't have said that last part.

"I see." My first thought- damn, he's sexy. After that- shit. He had that soft, silky, dangerous tone that he only uses when a student is about to be pummeled in every way legal for a teacher to pummel a student. "Perhaps it would occur to you to leave the scissors behind before you go strolling about the castle?" Oops.

"I needed the scissors to- to-" I had to think of something, quick. "To help Hagrid castrate his new shipment of boll weevils!" ...I knew then and there that I was doomed.

"Miss Page." It was barely more than a hiss. "I know that you are lying to me." I suppose he would, be a Legilimens and all. Which... I... Forgot. "What were you doing, following me through the castle with a pair of scissors? Are you trying to get me killed, girl?"

"No," I answered indignantly. "If you must know, the scissors were for gathering potions ingredients." It's true, in a way. "So there." I almost stuck my tongue out, but suppressed the urge. Somehow, I didn't think it would help the situation.

"Potions ingredients?" He had that dangerous tone again.

"Yes." That tick in his jaw was going off.

"What kinds of potions ingredients?"

"Oh, you know, the usual." I could tell he wanted me to elaborate. "Runespore, buckweed, tentacular blossoms, human hair, unsweetened cocoa-"

"Excuse me?"

"Er- unsweetened cocoa?"

"Before that!" he snapped, practically snarling at me. He's so hot when he gets in a temper like that.

"...Human hair." I braced myself for the blow.

"Human hair." He started flexing his fingers, as if he wanted to strangle someone (most likely me.) "Human hair." I could feel the build up of rage and back my chair up a bit as he ground his teeth. "HUMAN HAIR!" I winced at the sudden shout. "WHAT IS GOING THROUGH THAT MIND OF YOURS!?"

"If you don't mind my saying so, Professor, that's an extremely lifelike simulation of my mother." Apparently, he did mind, and made it very clear with several select phrases that I would probably be burnt at the stake for even writing down.

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S BEARD DID YOU WANT HUMAN HAIR FOR!?"

"Er- precious memories?" That was the wrong answer, obviously. As Professor Snape so kindly pointed out. "A- er- potion."

"I know that," he growled dangerously. "What kind of potion?" My answer came so quickly and quietly that it was barely discernable.

"Muffoshon." I avoided his gaze.

"Speak up!" he barked.

"Llllllo... lotion." Alright, so that was another lie.

"TRY AGAIN!" He really is good at seeing through them.

"Love potion." And then there were none. Well, there was no more noise, at least.

"Love potion," he repeated tightly.

"Love potion," I confirmed. There was more silence. Feeling the need to break the tension, I started humming the theme song for "Love Boat." What can I say, I was reminded of it. I think Professor Snape would have hit me if he was in any condition to do so.

"Stop speaking... Or making any noise in general," he ordered. "Immediately."

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"Detention. One month of detention! Fifty points from Ravenclaw! I'll see you in my office every night until the new year starting now! Eight o' clock! Dismissed!" I sensed impending doom, so I fled for my life. I knew detention with Professor Snape was going to be torture, but at least I'd be able to absorb some of his sexiness.

That night, I made my way to the infirmary with some books in my bag, one of which was for Professor Snape, as an apology for stabbing his butt with a pair of scissors. Madam Pomfrey was a bit skeptical of me, but let me in anyway. So, I pulled up a chair and sat down beside Professor Snape, who was still laying in bed, on his stomach. And snoring lightly. "Hello, Professor," I said as loudly as I could without actually shouting. With a snort, he woke up and turned on his side, eyeing me groggily.

"Miss Page," he muttered, a bit hoarsely. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to serve my detention, Professor." Hey, it was his idea.

"...Good Lord, must you?"

"Well, you told me to. Besides, it must be boring here in the hospital wing, all alone. Wouldn't you like some company?" He looked thoughtful for a moment, then sneered at me.

"No."

"So I get to skip out on detention tonight, then?" The silence following that question was oppressive. Professor Snape isn't the kind of man to let a person get out of a punishment, but I doubt he wanted to spend time with me. I could practically hear the Jeopardy music playing as he considered his options.

"Your detention is postponed. You'll serve it later." He seemed rather pleased with the decision. "Now, get out of here."

"Yes, sir. Sleep tight." I pulled the book I'd brought him from my bag and placed it on the bedside table. "Don't let the bedbugs bite." I started on my way out of the room, but Professor Snape called me back.

"Miss Page, what is this?" He gestured to the book.

"Er... A peace offering, sir. It's The Chronicles of Narnia. I thought it would be rather boring, laying in the infirmary all night with nothing to do." He looked at the book as if it might explode, then scowled at me.

"As... Touching as the gesture is, Miss Page, there is no need for it. Besides the fact, I've already read it." Well, I'd never thought that Professor Snape would be a fan of muggle literature, let alone fantasy.

"Really? You've read it? What did you think of the religious references-"

"Miss Page. Please. Leave now, before one of us gets hurt." I think that might have been a reference to the scissor wound.

"Yes, Professor." I knew I sounded a bit too disappointed, but it didn't really matter. I left the infirmary and ended the night with a bath and an early bedtime.

The next day was uneventful, and since Professor Snape had been released from the infirmary, I found myself in his office for detention at eight. He looked like he was in a pretty bad mood. "I regret to inform you, Miss Page, that your detention time has been reduced to ten days, apparently in the spirit of the holiday season."

"Thank you, Professor," I replied, though I wasn't really all that thankful.

"Hm. Well, come along." He stood up from his desk and walked out of the room, leading me out of the dungeons. After walking up several staircases, morbid curiosity got the best of me.

"Sir? Where are we going?"

"To the infirmary," he informed me, a wicked smirk crossing his face. "During my stay there, I noticed what horrible shape the bed pans were in." As he spoke, we arrived at the hospital wing, and he opened the door and led me to a back room, which was piled high with dirty bed pans. "They really could use a good cleaning." Dammit.

"Yes, sir."

"Remember, no magic."

"Of course, sir." And to top it all off, he handed me a toothbrush, gestured to a bucket of soapy water to use, then sat down in the corner to watch me. What a sadistic streak. Well, I thought, I have one too, and I'll be damned if I can't show him a thing or two. So, as I worked, I began speaking. "You know, Professor, I was thinking lately that it must be difficult, being a Potions Master in times like these. You must be awfully underpaid."

"I get by," he growled.

"Well, anyway, while we're on the subject of potions, I've come across the darnedest thing. You see, I have this oozing rash right around this area-" I gestured to my crotch- "but I just can't figure out how to get rid of it. Do you have any potions for that, sir?" I could see that he was going red, and supressed a grin.

"That is something you'd be better off asking Madam Pomfrey about."

"Well, you're no help. And speaking of rashes, laying on your stomach all day must have given you the most awful bed rash. That would be rather uncomfortable on your naughty bits, I'd imagine."

"Miss Page!" He sounded rather embarrassed.

"All your bits are in the right place, aren't they? Professor?"

"Miss Page!" He didn't seem to know what else to say.

"You know, you really shouldn't be talking about this kind of thing to a student, sir. You could get into trouble." I could see him mouthing wordlessly from the corner of my eye, evidently outraged. "I think we should move onto another subject. How do you feel about breast implants?"

"Excuse me?"

"They're awful, aren't they? You know Persephone Wyatt, right, Professor? She's got the most obvious ones ever. Present from her daddy, I gather. I ask you, what's the world coming to when a girl that age is getting breast implants? Honestly." He looked shocked. "You know about breast implants, right, sir?"

"Of- of course I do! You- why are we discussing this? Just clean out the bed pans!"

"I am cleaning the bed pans. And who used these things last, anyway? I think some of the urine in here is green. Would that be yours, sir?"

"Ten points from Ravenclaw!"

"There's no need to get so flustered over what comes out of your little soldier, Professor. I think what's more important is where you put it."

"Miss Page! That is enough!"

"You know, one time I was just minding my own business, taking a walk to buy some groceries, when BAM! There was this flasher who just jumped out of the bushes, just like that! And you know, when I got a look at the guy's face, I realized- it was Mr. Miller, my second year teacher from primary school. Now, is that a coincidence or what? I tell you, sir, it really is a small world after all."

"Miss Page, if you do not shut it, I will make you."

"Ooh, that sounds like fun." Well, one well-placed charm from Professor Snape, and I no longer had the ability to use my vocal chords. The rest of the detention was spent in tense silence, Professor Snape obviously waiting for me to do something utterly insane. When he finally let me go (and took the silencing charm off of me) I grinned, and as I walked out muttered, "I'll see you later, Professor. Try to keep that goblet of yours clean." I was gone before he could do anything to me. Heehee.

Speaking of detentions, I have one now. Whoopie!

* ~ December 20 ~ *

Ah, I finally finished my last night of detention. In one way, it's a relief. In another, it's really kind of sad. I was actually starting to get Professor Snape to talk to me! ...Kind of. Sort of. A little bit. Well, you know, in his own way. Explanation time, no?

Alright, detentions were pretty much... Detention. For a while. Then I decided I would pull a stunt like the one from my first night of detention, and it actually kind of turned out well. Sort of. A little bit. Well, you know, in its own way. So, I was serving detention with Professor Snape, during my sixth night of misery (gutting small animals whose native habitats are animated Disney movies) when I just... I was tired, cramping (periods suck,) suffering from a ginormous migraine, and to top it all off I kept craving bleu cheese. So, I decided that, screw it, I'd had enough detention for the night. Professor Snape wasn't to pleased.

"Oh... Bugger." Professor Snape glanced up from his most recent book- I suspected it to be a searing romance of a homosexual nature- and sneered.

"Five points. Try to watch your language, Miss Page."

"I don't feel like doing this anymore," I replied, dropping the once cute and fluffy animal I was holding. "I'm just going to go to bed."

"...Excuse me?" the professor asked, looking as if he were becoming rather angry.

"I said, I don't feel like gutting animals anymore. I'll just take a rain check, thanks." I stood up and started washing my hands off in the sink, aware that Professor Snape was quickly approaching.

"Miss Page! I will not tolerate your insolence! You will treat me with respect and-"

"Could you hand me that towel?" I interrupted, motioning to the towel that happened to be just slightly out of my reach.

"Certainly- and- and- wait just one minute!" He stopped in the middle of handing the towel over, looking rather flustered. "I will not be ignored!" Heh, what a doof.

"I wasn't ignoring you, sir, I just need a towel." I snatched it from him before he could protest. "Thanks."

"Five points from Ravenclaw! How dare you act so-"

"Could you keep it down, Professor? I've got a killer migraine, and my vagina is staging a mutiny. Hence my desire to cut out early." His mouth fell open, his face going red.

"You- you- you-"

"Have my period? Precisely." It was then that I discovered a rather invaluable weapon to be used against Professor Snape: my menstrual cycle.

"I- you- get out!" He whirled around and returned to his desk, looking... Utterly humiliated. But not in a way that men are usually utterly humiliated when confronted with the crimson tide.

"Professor?" I know a fetish when I see one. "You're not turned on by that, are you?" Heehee.

"What- OUT! NOW!" Giggling to myself, I hurried out of the room. That angry shouting sounded rather guilty to me. Heh.

The next night, I came fully armed, tampons and all. Safely tucked in my bag, that is. "Hello, Professor!" I greeted jovially. He muttered something demeaning under his breath, then set me to finishing the task I had walked out on the previous night. "You know, I've have the strangest craving for bleu cheese, lately," I said blithely as I gutted something that looked suspiciously like a wide-eyed puppy. "But I suppose it comes with the whole menstrual territory. Do you have anything to eat on you, Professor?"

"No!" he barked. "Get back to work!"

"Really, now, that's no way to act towards a lady. By the way, am I allowed bathroom breaks? Because, I've got to tell you now, sir, this tampon is on its last legs and I'll have to have it changed within the hour." I could see him burning a brilliant (and rather fetching) shade of scarlet.

"Fine!" he grumbled. "Now be quiet." I continued gutting the puppy for several minutes before I spoke up again.

"You know, Professor, we really have been awful to each other these past months (though completely unintentionally on my side *cough cough*) and I just thought that perhaps we could put all our (as in, your) animosity behind us and bond over the beautiful cycle of nature. Wouldn't you agree, sir?"

"No. Keep working."

"You know, I think since we've been spending so much time together, our cycles are starting to coincide... Because somebody in this room has major PMS, and it isn't me." There was a long pause before Professor Snape dared respond.

"Miss Page... If you would be so kind... Please... Shut your word hole."

"Excuse me? Word hole? How old are you, sir, ten?"

"Shut it!"

"I am rubber and you are glue; whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you." I finished off by sticking my tongue out at him. I'm sure that if he were in range he would have cut it right off.

"Miss Page!"

"Fine. I've got to change, anyway." I grabbed my bag and pulled the tampons out, offering the package to him. "Would you like one, Professor? Just in case?" With a low growl, he sent me off. I didn't bother to go back.

Next was night number eight. Funnily enough, Professor Snape seemed to be in a rather mild mood. He was leaning back in his chair, calmly observing... Well, it was the strangest thing. There was a vase on top of his desk, holding a single sunflower. The fact that anything at all bright was currently residing in his office was strange enough, let alone a sunflower, of all the possibilities. "Er... Professor?" He scowled fiercely when he saw me, taking the sunflower and placing it somewhere out of sight. "Who was that from? Your secret admirer?" In response, he motioned to a set of manacles in the far corner.

"Polish those." Not bothering to protest, I grabbed some... Mad Milton's Manacle Polish... and a rag, getting straight to work.

"So, Professor, are you seeing someone, then?" For some reason, the thought made me feel rather... Jealous. And homicidal.

"Polish the manacles, Miss Page," he sighed in response. He was surprisingly... Not insane with rage.

"Sir? Is there something wrong?" He let a sneer loose at me, looking rather disgusted. Ah, now that is the Professor Snape I know.

"Must you insist upon such inane banter?" I took a moment to think it over.

"Yes, I suppose so." I thought a heard a growl coming from his direction. Ooh, sexy! I heard him rustling through some papers, and glanced over to see him reading mail. As I watched, he opened a letter, turned red as he read it, then crumpled it into a ball and incinerated it. "Let me guess... Bills?" He glared at me.

"A letter from a certain off-balance student's father." I only assumed that meant me.

"Oh? What did it say?"

"Nothing I would like to discuss, I assure you."

"I know what you mean. Dad... Is... Well, not batting on a full wicket, so to say."

"Indeed."

"You know, Professor, I'm starting to think there really is something wrong. You're almost amiable tonight." He snorted, rifling through the remaining letters on his desk.

"Perhaps I haven't been getting enough sleep."

"Staying up all night to re-read Narnia, eh, Professor?" He grumbled some sort of protest at me, but I was too elated by the fact that we were almost conversing to absorb any comments of a negative nature at the moment. "So, are you planning on going to the Yule Ball, sir?"

"I'm planning on being forced to attend, yes." He cursed under his breath as he read through a letter that looked as if it was from the Ministry of Magic.

"You should really try to have some fun, Professor."

"I abhor fun." I rolled my eyes.

"I don't think that's true. You're just being stubborn."

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, and another twenty if you don't leave me be." I know how to take a hint (albeit a rather obvious one,) so I finished polishing the manacles in silence.

"I'm finished, Professor. What do you use these for, anyway? I'm guessing... sex. Right?" I could see him reddening quite quickly, and prepared for retreat, just in case.

"Ten points." He growled tersely. "I will see you tomorrow, Miss Page." I left, hoping he didn't change his mind and try to hex me, looking forward to our next encounter. I was rather disappointed at that point that classes had ended for the holidays, because that meant I didn't have potions to tide me over during the long stretch between detentions.

Then, there was night number nine. I was very excited about getting to detention, because I was hoping I could coax Professor Snape into talking to me again. However, I was severely disappointed. Apparently, he wasn't in the mood to oversee a detention, so I was stuck serving it with (shudder) Filch. Augh. And he spent the whole time talking about hanging students from the ceiling by their ankles or whipping them or something equally as brutal, which I would agree with completely if I weren't actually a student.

Night ten, tonight, was almost sad for me. Professor Snape, on the other hand, seemed outright giddy. Well, for him at least. Which means he didn't scowl as much as usual and refrained from shouting at me. That was rather a relief, though. I'm not sure I've ever interacted with him before without getting yelled at.

Anyway, since his office was already impeccably clean from top to bottom, he could see his reflection in ever cauldron, and all the slimy things in jars and everything in his storeroom was inventoried and sorted, I was sort of wondering what he could possibly have for me to do next. As it turned out, my final task was to sort through his hate mail and howlers. Yes, he actually gets hate mail. It's actually not very surprising, once you think about it. "Professor, I had no idea so many people even knew you, let alone hated you."

"Thank you so very much for that observation," he snarled, opening a letter and turning brick red before quickly hiding it from view. I caught a glimpse of the handwriting and almost laughed out loud- it was one of my love letters! Unfortunately, while I was distracted, I inadvertently opened up an envelope that spat ink in my face.

"Bwah!" I exclaimed, slapping it away. "Augh, it smells like piss!" And it probably was, at least on some level. Professor Snape snorted, and I stopped for a moment, realizing that it was actually an expression of amusement. Dare I say it- laughter. "That was meant for you, you know," I grumbled, grabbing my wand to cast a few cleaning charms on myself.

"Even better," he murmured, grabbing the next letter in his pile. I would have commented, but then I noticed that it was another one of the mysterious green-sealed letters. Quickly cleaning myself up, I tried to look like I was decided which howler to open next, while I discreetly attempted to read over his shoulder. A closer look at the handwriting revealed it to be rather familiar, though I couldn't place where I'd seen it before. I also caught a glimpse of a line that read, "...when you're not busy spying on naked women..." which, needless to say, drew some laughter from me. I couldn't help it; the thought of Professor Snape as a voyeur just set me off. Ooh, and adding Professor Lupin into the mix as an exhibitionist makes it even better.

"Miss Page," he growled, glaring at me. "I would appreciate some privacy."

"Sorry, Professor, I was just glancing over when I saw a particular part of that letter that insinuated you were a voyeur." At least part of it was the truth. He turned red, barked at me to finish up with the hate mail, took some points away, and returned to his perusal of the apparently derogatory letter. Hm, perhaps if I picked the Professor's brain I'd be able to find out who had written the letter. "You know, that handwriting looked awfully familiar," I commented blithely.

"Hmph," he replied, obviously trying his best to ignore me. I opened a letter from a parent that accused him of being a sadistic pedophile as I continued.

"I can't seem to place its origin, though. I could swear I know it."

"Amazing," he drawled, bringing me to the realization that he was not listening to a word I said. That put some pretty good ideas in my head.

"Perhaps I could remember... If only... Well, perhaps you know?"

"How wonderful for you." He was quite immersed in that letter.

"Maybe you could help me out? Perhaps get on your knees and orally please me?"

"Of course." I suppressed a giggle.

"So that's a promise?"

"Oh, yes. Definitely." This time I couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. That seemed to break him of his extreme concentration and, blinking, he looked up at me. "And what, exactly, is so amusing?"

"Nothing," I replied lightly. Then, after a pause... "What are you waiting for, Professor? On your knees!" He narrowed his eyes and, after only slight hesitation, swatted me with the letter like some sort of irritated house wife.

"Miss Page!" he scolded, raising his voice, though it wasn't quite a shout yet. "Enough! I refuse to be surprised or flustered by your inappropriate comments! Ten points from Ravenclaw. Now leave me alone." Shrugging, I returned to the mail. I opened a howler, which was from some woman whose son Professor Snape had apparently caused extreme emotional damage to. "Who was that from?" he asked.

"Er... Mrs. Franco." He grabbed a blank piece of parchment and wrote down the name of a student along with several forms of punishment.

"You may continue, Miss Page." Wow. Now that is a sexy man. And funny.

"Professor, you're so charmingly amusing."

"Five points. Back to work." It took over two hours to get through all the howlers and letters and curses, but I finally finished, relatively intact thanks to the store of healing potions that Professor Snape keeps handy.

"Ah, done! And it's about time. You know, Professor, you might not get so much hate mail if you were a bit more approachable."

"I like reading it," he replied lowly, not-so-scowling at me. Oh, how the heavens have blessed me! He actually not-so-scowled at me! Which, I suppose, translates into a small smile.

"You're so incredibly sexy and I love you unconditionally. Rape me, please." Well, that's what I meant to say. It actually came out more like, "Hnngh..." along with a bit of a gurgle. He raised an eyebrow at me, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps, Miss Page, a few of those curses have had a lasting effect. You should consider stopping off at the infirmary." Concern!! For me!!

"You are the sun in my sky and the earth beneath my feet. Make love to me, you sexy beast." That, unfortunately, also came out a bit differently from what I had hoped for. It was more along the lines of, "Guh... huh..." and another gurgle. His other eyebrow joined the first.

"Are you alright? I wouldn't want to get sacked just because you fell ill while in my care." He sounded particularly sinister, which was the sexiest thing on the planet. Luckily, the familiar tones managed to raise my alertness and allow me to take control of my rebelling vocal chords.

"I'm fine, Professor. Really, I am." He looked doubtful, so I assumed I would have to convince him. "Er... Nice bum?" He rubbed his forehead, as if fending off a headache.

"I see. Very well, you may go." Sighing, I scurried out of the room, as giddy as a schoolgirl. And, seeing as I am a schoolgirl, I had every right to be. Besides that, Professor Snape was decent to me! How elating!

When I got back to the dorm, I found Luna still awake, so I immediately accosted her and told her my tale. She seemed rather happy for me, in her own dazed way. After making sure she knew every detail of my last detention, I decided to hop into bed (with an albino.) Ah. You know, I'm rather looking forward to asking Professor Snape to dance at the Yule Ball. Maybe he'll say yes! Well, I can always hope.