Detention With Severus Snape

* ~ 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.