Severus Snape Unleashed!

     He rose the next morning and stood before his closet. “Which robes to wear?” he wondered aloud. “They’re all the same, you nincompoop!” the mirror shouted from the parlor. Scowling, Snape grabbed a set of black robes from their hanger and dressed quickly. He ran his fingers through his hair and set out. “I love what you’ve done with your hair, Severus. It’s so original!”

     “SHUT UP MIRROR!”

     “Why don’t you try and break me again, genius?” Snape scowled at the memory of the mirror laughing hysterically as he threw every heavy object in his home at it. All of them had merely bounced off with a squeaking noise. “Good luck at school, Severus!” the mirror called after him as he walked out of the door.

     He fumed all the way down the street. He took a set of stairs, passed a sign that said “Entrance blocked” walked 17.6 miles and picked up an old piece of paper. He shook his head and a second later appeared in front of the Hogwarts castle. “Why can’t I just Apparate? Dumbledore and his paranoia.” Then again, he thought, the no-Apparating rule might be a good thing. He had a sudden mental image of Voldemort appearing in the middle of the Slytherin common room. Draco Malfoy’d cream his pants.

     “Severus, hello,” a welcome voice came from behind him.

     “Headmaster,” he said, his voice cool as always. “Severus, you be nice to that man!” his mirror shouted. Snape flinched. He knew by now that no one could hear the mirror’s voice except for him, but he still worried. “How was your vacation?” he added.

     Dumbledore’s eyes, once so twinkly, had lost their luster with recent events and his little-known AIDS infection. AIDS couldn’t hurt wizards, they had a simple anti-AIDS spell, but it still reared its ugly head every once in a while to make Dumbledore tired, cranky, and forgetful.

“It was horrible, Severus, but it’s nice of you to ask. How was yours? Any unexpected visitors?”

     “No! Of course not! Why would someone have come to see me? WHO TOLD YOU?”

     “Severus, don’t flip out. I meant any visits from any Death Eaters, Dark Lords, etc. I don’t care what crazy stuff you do with your personal life,” Dumbledore assured him. Snape’s face tried to redden with embarrassment, but it stayed perfectly white as always.

     “Let’s go inside then,” he said, gesturing for Dumbledore to go ahead. Dumbledore ambled slowly up the stairs into the castle, Snape impatiently walking behind him. He adored the man, but Merlin’s beard, he was slow and old. ‘Maybe it’s the AIDS. I shouldn’t say anything.’

Several minutes later, Snape and Dumbledore arrived at the entrance to Hogwarts. Both went their separate ways, Snape to his dungeons and Dumbledore to the Great Hall to prepare for the arrival of the students. Once in his dungeon, Snape did his usual preparation for the new students. He strutted around the room, looking as sinister as possible. He was just testing the velocity with which to turn to achieve the perfect hair/cloak swishiness when a timid knock interrupted him. He let out a small roar, mostly for the benefit of the unfortunate soul who stood on the other side of the door. He opened to find Hermione Granger. He scowled but let her into the dungeon, glancing both ways before closing the door.

     “Severus, how are you?”

     “Miss Granger! At school, you shall refer to me as Professor Snape!”

     “You’re absolutely right, sir, I forgot myself... So, how are you?”

     “I’m the same as I always am. I’m down here in these dungeons when I should be in room... um.... Well, the Defense Against the Dark Arts room!”

     “Professor, Dumbledore knows what he’s doing when he keeps you doing Potions.”

     “That, or he doesn’t trust me with anything Dark Arts,” Snape said sulkily.

     “Oh, please! Sev- Professor, you’re being a big baby. Obviously Dumbledore trusts you, or would you even be inside the walls of Hogwarts?”

     “Miss Granger, hold your tongue!”

     “Oh, you just know I’m right! You really can’t stand that, can you?”

     “You know nothing, girl,” Snape said with what he hoped was a sufficiently evil sneer.

     “Okay, okay. Would you like a treacle tart?” Hermione asked, offering him a tin. He turned to her, utter shock on his face. He smacked the underside of the tin, showering himself and Hermione with treacle tarts.

     “LEAVE THIS ROOM AT ONCE!” he shouted. Hermione gasped and did exactly that.

     “Now, Severus! Is that any way to treat a student?” Mirror asked.

     “Nobody asked you! Shut up, you foolish piece of reflective... whatever you are!”

     “Severus, what *are* you doing?” Professor McGonagall stood in the door to the dungeon, a look of extreme reproach on her face.

     “What I am doing is none of your business, Headmistress. I’ll be up to the Great Hall at once.” McGonagall nodded and walked away, looking as though she had just eaten a large amount of lemons. Then again, she always looked that way. Except in the middle of her sweaty, passionate, lust-filled nights with Dumbledore. [Peanut Gallery: GROSS!!!!!]

     Snape sat at the staff table, looking with disdain over the sea of nauseating students before him. The line of shivering pukes was slowly diminishing as they were sorted into their houses. Fewer than ever made it into Slytherin, to Snape’s surprise. He thought with the return of Voldemort, more people would be thinking about joining the Dark Side.

     “Odd how few students made it into your house, eh, Snape?” muttered Professor Sprout.

     “Maybe people just don’t want to be around you, dear Severus,” said Mirror.

     “Stuff it, you mad thing!” Snape bellowed. Professor Sprout gasped and smacked him across the face, in full view of the Headmaster and the students. Snape goggled at her for a moment before realizing he must have spoken to his Mirror aloud. Before he could apologize, Dumbledore grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the room that was just to the side of the staff table.

     “Severus, I must confess that your behavior has always been odd. All that strutting and looking evil. But insulting a fellow professor in front of the entire school, Severus, that’s going a bit far.”

     “Headmaster, I understand completely. But you must believe me, I wasn’t talking to Professor Sprout.”

     “Oh?” Dumbledore’s silver eyebrows raised. “With whom were you speaking, then?”

     “My... my mirror, sir.” Even as he said it, Snape realized how ridiculous it sounded.

     “Lying to me, Severus? That’s a first. I must say, I don’t know how to handle this situation...” A knock on the door interrupted Dumbledore’s speech. He ambled over and opened the door to see Hermione Granger.

     “Ah, Miss Granger. How may I help you?” Dumbledore asked kindly.

     “Actually, I’m here to help him,” Hermione said boldly, pointing at Snape, who snorted and looked away.

     “Be my guest, Hermione,” Dumbledore said, in an unusually sharp tone. “I don’t know what to do with him.” With that, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape’s only friend, walked out the door.

     “This is all your fault, you ruddy object of my hatred!” Snape shouted.