Detention With Severus Snape

* ~ November 7 ~ *

I have detention for being disrespectful to Professor Snape. In other words, I had potions class and the sexual innuendo task was still in effect. I wasn't really paying attention in class (instead pondering the firmness of his backside) and he called on me, obviously sensing my inattentiveness. So, forced to tell him the uses of jabberknoll feathers in a regeneration potion, I said, "You can put your feather in my potion anyday, Professor." There was stunned silence, which slowly gave way to laughter. Then, after answering the question correctly, I was given detention with Professor Snape himself. Ahhh, *swoon!*

Other than that, there are no new tasks to report, but there was plenty of interaction with Professor Snape. Today was the big day. Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch match. There was going to be a big turn- out, I could feel it in my bones. And, of course, I was going to attend. Now, this is one competition I have no trouble choosing sides on. Definitely Slytherin all the way. Yeah, I know, I probably should be rooting for my house, but I refuse to. I hate every single person on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Hate them. I absolutely abhor every single one of those prude, prissy, idiotic... Ahem. Can't get too off-track. Anyway, I ventured out to the Quidditch pitch to take my seat, glancing over at the Slytherin section, and wonder of wonders, there was Professor Snape, ready for the taking! Well, by that I mean the seat beside him was empty. Hell, not if I could help it.

I plopped down in the seat next to him, smiling cheerfully in the bitter cold winds. "Good afternoon, Professor," I greeted. "Nice day for a Quidditch match, isn't it?" He looked around at me, sneering, then blinked slowly. I merely grinned as I adjusted my green scarf and straightened my little Slytherin flag.

"Miss Page... Are you, or are you not, in Ravenclaw?" He seemed rather irritated by my support of Slytherin.

"Yes, I'm in Ravenclaw," I answered casually, pulling on a nice warm green hat, with a silver hem and a little silver puff at the end.

"Perhaps, then, you would like to explain why you are sitting in the Slytherin section, wearing Slytherin colors, and holding that little banner." He eyed it with mild disgust.

"To be honest," I answered truthfully, "I don't like the Ravenclaw Quidditch team."

"Oh?"

"Nope. Not a bit. Besides, I've got to have some family pride. I do, after all, come from a long line of Slytherins."

"Regretfully." He crossed his arms and glared out at the Quidditch pitch.

"Why, Professor! I do believe you just conversed with me. My, my, my. Soon I'll be needing to beat you off with a stick." Heehee... Beat him off...

"Miss Page..." he warned angrily. However, anything else he was about to say was cut off with the almost deafening sound of Madam Hooch's whistle. Suddenly, the Quidditch pitch was covered in blurs of blue and green, and the crowds were cheering wildly. The first few minutes were tense and exciting, with the quaffle being passed back and forth between the teams. I was only half listening to the commentator as I watched Persephone Wyatt, a snobby bitch I am forced to share a dormitory with, take hold of the quaffle and speed towards the Slytherin goalposts. I hoped fiercely that she'd be knocked off her broom by a bludger, but no such luck.

"RAVENCLAW SCORES!" shouted the magically amplified voice from nearby. The rest of the stadium cheered, while the Slytherins burst into boos and hisses. I jumped up and joined them, pulling faces at Persephone, who was eyeing me with contempt. Then, the game was underway again. Persephone once more had possession of the quaffle, and there was a beater right near us, with a bludger heading straight for him.

"KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM!" I screamed. The Slytherin beater seemed to have heard me, because that's exactly what he did- and I cheered loudest of them all. "AHAHAHA!" I was very happy. She looked like she might need to go to the hospital wing.

"Miss Page," Professor Snape suddenly scolded, eyeing me strangely, "calm down."

"I'm no more excited than the Slytherins, sir," I answered as politely as I could.

"You most decidedly are," he retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"Well... I hate her," I concluded.

"SLYTHERIN SCORES!"

"WHOOO! GO SLYTHERIN!" I waved my little flag around, which was enchanted to play a little rendition of "A Pirate's Life for Me" whenever I did so. Professor Snape glanced over at me, eyeing the flag with something like recognition on his face... But I didn't really have time to analyze his expressions, as Slytherin had just scored again. "Yesss!" Normally, I'm not so rabid a Quidditch fan, but I thoroughly enjoy watching people I hate being shamed and embarrassed. Even more than that, though, I enjoy sitting next to Professor Snape. Awww, he looked so happy (for him, I mean.) That satisfied little smirk is so cute.

When the Ravenclaw beater missed a bludger and it hit a chaser, he sneered and muttered, "Imbeciles," under his breath. I, unable to keep my opinion to myself, decided that it was fairly safe to speak to him when his attention was directed elsewhere.

"May I say, Professor Snape, that you look absolutely adorable today?" Slowly, oh so slowly, he squeezed his eyes shut, grimaced, and turned to glare at me.

"Miss Page. Five points from Ravenclaw. I forbid you to speak." Then he turned back to the game, subtley edging away from me. I watched the game as well, hoping desperately that the new Slytherin seeker would catch the snitch. If she was even half as good as Draco, she'd be able to get it.

Suddenly, there were gasps from the crowd as the Slytherin seeker sped upwards, chasing something that glinted gold in the sunlight. I held my breath as the Ravenclaw seeker caught up to her, right on her tail... They were neck in neck... And then... The Slytherin seeker caught the snitch! She caught it! "SLYTHERIN WINS!" shouted the commentator (who was actually quite happy, since he was a Slytherin.)

"SLYTHERIN WINS!" I cheered with the (small) crowd, throwing my arms around Professor Snape and jumping up and down on my seat. "SLYTHERIN WINS!"

"GET OFF OF ME YOU BARMY GIRL!"

"WHOOOOO! YEAH SLYTHERIN!" I was ignoring his desperate attempts to escape, and when I (still screaming with the Slytherins and using their victory as an excuse to do so) kissed him on the cheek he nearly fell over. "SLYTHERIN! SLYTHERIN!" The crowd was chanting; after all, winning this Quidditch match put the Slytherin team ahead in the Quidditch and House Cup.

"THIRTY POINTS FROM RAVENCLAW!" Professor Snape managed to bellow over the roaring crowd before we were trampled by an influx of Slytherins rushing to get down to the Quidditch pitch. By the time the crowd had subsided, Professor Snape and I were both on the ground, and my left leg was pleasantly draped over his right. He growled a bit and kicked my leg away, standing up and brushing himself off. "You..." He trailed off, seemingly unable to complete his sentence. "You..." His hands shook a bit.

"Some help, Professor?" I asked innocently, holding out a hand.

"No." And he swept off. Gar. So, I pushed myself to my feet and walked to the edge of the stands, where I leaned against the rail and watched him prowl across the Quidditch pitch. What a nice body... and his cheek was so warm. Well, he can't get away from me that easily; my detention is tonight. Heh.

So, after being glared at by all of my housemates (well, more like almost the entire school) for supporting Slytherin throughout dinner, I set off on my wonderous adventure... aka detention. I knocked, I walked in, I was glared at some more, this time by Professor Snape. He indicated a bucket of murky water and a scrub brush, sitting next to me. "I want to be able to see my face in this floor when you're done." Not likely, unless he had a reflection charm in mind. "No magic allowed." Apparently not.

"Thank you, sir." He glanced up at me, raising a cautious eyebrow. "I'm a masochist." Slightly redder than before, he turned back to the papers he was grading, gritting his teeth. Of course, I'm not really a masochist, but it just seemed like an amusing thing to say.

Anyway, I got to scrubbing the floor, reciting in my head a list of all my favorite books at the moment and their authors, followed by possible scenarios where gay romance might be inserted. It was a nice distraction from scrubbing the floors, though I'd done worse whenever my mum went into one of her psychotic cleaning frenzies. Which is usually preceeded by Dad doing something extremely magical. I know that there are many different ways to deal with stress, but... Cleaning? Come on.

I glanced up at Professor Snape when I was over halfway done, and he seemed to be concentrating rather intensely on some sort of letter. As I scrubbed, I moved slowly closer to him, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of the letter... Or touch his butt. You know, whichever comes first. Unfortunately, as I was moving into position, he swore and crumpled the letter into a ball, incinerating it. Then he stood up, and, looking very annoyed, glared directly at me. "You may go, Miss Page." Followed by him swooping out of the room. And swooping is definitely the way to describe it. Sexy. Well, I'm not one to turn down a free pass, so I was out of there more quickly than... Something quick. I'm not in the mood for similes or metaphors at the moment.

When I finally got back to the common room, I looked around for only a moment before I spotted Luna in a cozy seat in front of the fire. I plopped down beside her, eyeing her suspiciously as she held some sort of lump of fabric in her hands, concentrating on sewing. "Hey, Luna," I greeted. She nodded towards me, saying nothing as she continued with her project. "...What's that?" Then she looked at me with that glimmer in her eyes; the one that meant another task was fast approaching.

"Puppets," she informed me dreamily. I sat immobile for a few moments, staring at her, before I finally found my voice.

"...What? ...Puppets?"

"Yes," she replied. "Puppet show." She gestured towards the end table next to her chair, where I noticed, for the first time, a small likeness of Professor Snape. It was a Snape puppet.

"Oh my God..." I muttered. "No. No. There is no way. Ever." I refuse to humiliate myself with such a demeaning act. "And what does it have to do with confessing my undying love, anyway?" That was when she held up the puppet she'd been sewing for me to see; it looked an awful lot like me... "NO." Luna put another few stitches into place, then bit the string and tied it off, slipping the puppet onto her hand. Then, she slid her other hand into the Snape puppet and made then dance around a bit before kissing. "No, no, no, no, no!"

"I love you," she imitated in a squeaking voice, making my puppet bounce to indicate that she was the one talking. "Go away!" she replied to herself in a gruff voice, waving the Snape puppet about. "Stupid girl!"

"This is ridiculous," I grumbled, watching the display with mild disgust. "I refuse to do it." She only shrugged.

"I was bored." Oh, thank GOD. "It can be a backup." Sometimes I wonder if Luna wasn't better suited for Slytherin. Anyway... No more write. Mah.