Snape woke up and stared at the ceiling. It was a bit odd; this wasn’t his usual ceiling. There was a lot of light. That kind of light that has all sorts of golden yellows and vibrant oranges and splashes of fiery red that are indicative of a particularly spectacular sunset. I should be a writer, thought Snape. He tried to roll over, but the very prospect of moving made his side hurt, so he simply obliged to turn his head.
That’s when he saw the other bed.
Snape was now rather angry. He’d ended up here 45 times, and it never got any better. Poor Snape, you see, was in the hospital wing. He tried to sit up, only to find Madam Pomfrey shoving him back onto his pillows.
“Try not to move, Severus,” she said, insisting on using his first name. “You swallowed an awful lot of glass.”
Ah yes, now it was coming back to him. He’d been looking for Bellatrix at the dance, right after chugging all that spiked punch. He’d been standing in the middle of the hall, when one of the traps he’d come up with for Arbitrare got set on him. There was a loud grinding noise, then crash! The chandelier fell on him.
And I’ll bet you thought he hooked up with Bellatrix. Well, nope. We’ve got to keep this story age appropriate.
“And I think you set a new record,” Madam Pomfrey continued.
“New record?” asked Snape.
“Mm hmm. Of the 206 bones in the adult human body, you managed to break 114. And nearly get run through by that chandelier.”
“Yet I’m still alive.”
“No, I fixed you right up. No one’s died yet under my care, Severus. That, and you’ve always been incredibly resilient.”
“So what you’re saying is…I’m indestructible...”
Madam Pomfrey shrugged. “I normally wouldn’t go quite that far, but it almost seems like it. Someone out there must really like you.”
“Hello!” called the author from the door.
“Out!” yelled Madam Pomfrey. She shooed the author away, then headed back across the ward, leaving Snape with, “Get some rest. I won’t have you dying anytime soon.”
Snape waited until Madam Pomfrey was safely ensconced in her office, then he gritted his teeth and rolled out of bed. He quickly and quietly slipped out of the hospital wing and headed down the hall.
Snape was debating whether or not he should go see Dumbledore. After all, another staff member was up to no good. But on the other hand, Dumbledore had thus far turned a blind eye to Arbitrare’s shenanigans. Snape was just about to decide between seeing Dumbledore or going to his own office when the trio showed up.
“Professor!” said Hermione. “We were just looking for you.”
“She means she was just looking for you,” said Harry.
“We had nothing to do with it,” added Ron.
Snape sighed angrily. “What do you want?”
“Professor Dumbledore wants to see you,” said Hermione. “He said you can find him in his office.”
“Of course,” mumbled Snape. It seemed his mind had been made up for him.
“I’ve got to ask, sir,” said Harry, snidely emphasizing the last word, “Did you spike the punch?”
Snape gave him a condescending look. “What do you think?”
“No, ‘cause think about it,” said Ron. “If he’d spiked it, it wouldn’t have been with a love potion. More likely we’d be throwing up, or our eyes would’ve melted or something.”
“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Snape said smoothly.
“What for?” protested Harry.
“Because I hate you. Good enough reason?”
Harry glowered, then smirked and asked, “How was the hospital wing?”
Snape grumbled something rude under his breath, then turned and stormed off to Dumbledore’s office. He got there, went up the moving stairs, and knocked on the door. “Come in!” called Dumbledore jovially. Snape entered the office to find Dumbledore at his desk, scribbling on some papers. Oddly enough, it looked like he was drawing dance steps.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” asked Snape.
“Yes indeed, Severus, yes indeed. I was wondering how you were doing, after that…unpleasantness.” He waved his hand vaguely.
“Oh. I’m fine.”
“Madam Pomfrey informed me that you’ve set a school record, injury-wise. Let me be the first to congratulate you.”
Snape grunted noncommittally.
“Anyway,” continued Dumbledore, “Since you missed a couple days of school, I thought I’d get you back up to speed.”
“What?”
“It’s now Tuesday evening.” Dumbledore chuckled at Snape’s incredulous expression. It takes more than one day to mend that many bones, Severus.”
Snape stared. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, quite. Remember, I’ve been conscious for more of the time.”
Snape looked uncharacteristically stunned.
“Feel free to sit down,” said Dumbledore, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk.
Snape sat, and asked, “What about my classes? I don’t trust the students alone for five minutes, much less two days.”
“Oh, don’t worry, we got a substitute.”
“Who?” asked Snape, fearing he knew the answer already.
“Professor Arbitrare.”
Snape let out a groan and banged his head on the desk.
“Please refrain from doing that,” said Dumbledore. “Relax, Severus, I’m sure nothing too terrible happened.”
Snape sat up abruptly. “Relax? How am I supposed to relax when there’s a homicidal maniac in my classroom?”
“Oh, he’s not a homicidal maniac. A tad eccentric, yes, but aren’t we all.”
“He’s tried to kill me at least twice in the past week.”
“Severus, I doubt it’s as bad as all that. Just go down to your class, and I’m sure you’ll find everything in order.”
“I’m sure I won’t,” Snape muttered as he stood up and headed for the door.
“One last thing, Severus,” Dumbledore said. Snape looked back. “Can I borrow your CD player?”
“No.” Snape grumbled some more as he left the office and headed down the many staircases to his classroom. This was a very grumbley day.
Snape had just walked into the entrance hall when somebody jumped out from nowhere with a loud “Hello!” Snape whipped around, wand pointed at the noisemaker, which turned out to be the author.
“Oh, it’s just you,” said Snape, tucking his wand back inside his robes. “What do you want?”
“Now is that any way to treat one of your biggest fans? Especially since you’ve basically taken over this story.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, at the beginning you were just the typically snarky git, but now you’re essentially the protagonist.”
“Oh goody.”
“Indeed. Now, to answer your question about what I want: I want to give you this.” The author dramatically held up a spoon.
“What good is that to me?” said Snape, taking the utensil, nonetheless.
“Oh, trust me, you’ll need it. Well, ta!” And with that the author vanished in a puff of smoke accompanied by coughing.
Snape looked suspiciously at the spoon in his hand, then again started down to the dungeons. He stalked down the dank hall, first to his office. He cautiously opened the door a bit and poked his head in. Nothing out of order there, Snape gave a premature sigh of relief.
I say premature because he hadn’t seen his classroom yet.
Snape headed back to the Potions classroom, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Arbitrare hadn’t destroyed anything. But there was a strange smell that grew more and more pungent with every step Snape took, and the ground was jiggling ominously. He was about to put his hand on the doorknob when the door itself shuddered and flew open.
Snape jumped back, out of the way of the deluge of dark brown goo that flooded out of the room. The brown stuff finally slowed to a gentle ooze, carrying on top of it a rather messy and stunned looking Arbitrare.
“Ouch,” he muttered as he got to his feet, slipping a bit in the muck. “I wasn’t expecting it to do that.” He started trying to wipe the stuff off his robes.
“What did you do to my classroom?” Snape asked dangerously.
“Nothing!” said Arbitrare innocently. “I was just trying to teach, and well, you know how it is with Potions, a lot of accidents occur, and the next thing I know it goes berserk, and well, here we are.” He grinned pathetically and gestured at the mess around him.
Snape stared coldly. “Right.”
“Yep. Glad you understand.” Arbitrare’s grin turned malevolent. “On a different note, how is Snape this fine evening?”
“Rather perturbed, actually.”
“And why is that, though I think I know the answer?”
“Oh, let’s see,” Snape started snidely (nice alliteration). “After trying to poison the entire school, you nearly killed me, again, and now you’ve wrecked my classroom.” He took a threatening step forward. “Do you know how hard it is to keep that room in order with all the inept students I have? I really don’t need you to help create more chaos.”
“Aw, poor Snape, he’s so put upon. You know what would cheer you up?” Arbitrare bent down and scooped some of the goo into a dish. “Some pudding!”
“I don’t want any pudding,” said Snape, teeth clenched.
“Are you sure? It comes with whipped topping…”
“No! That’s beside the point anyway. Why are you making pudding in a Potions class?”
“Well, the students told me what they had been making, and since I didn’t know how to do it, and I thought it sounded boring, I decided we’d make pudding instead! Though I think the growth potion might have been a bit much.”
“What?”
“I added a growth potion to the pudding mix! You don’t get this much pudding without a shortcut of some kind.”
Snape just stared. “You’re a complete imbecile, I hope you know that,” he finally said.
“Hey now, there’s no need for name calling. Don’t tell me you’ve never made a mess with any of your potions.”
“I’ve never made pudding instead of a potion.”
“Maybe you should, then you’d have more fun with life.”
“You know what would be fun? Putting you in detention. Here,” Snape shoved the spoon he’d been given into Arbitrare’s hands, then grabbed him by the back of his collar and dragged him into the classroom. “Your first duty is to clean up all of this,” he gestured at the puddle of pudding covering the floor, “with that.” He pointed to the spoon. Snape then swept over to the door. He turned, said, “Enjoy,” and left, slamming the door shut behind him.
Yays! Chappie ten! I’m so happy to have gotten this far. Are you so happy that I did? Show your appreciation, irritation, consternation, constipation (er, actually, keep that to yourself) by reviewing! Until next time, dear readers!
The Power Of Suggestion by FriendsOfSnape
Chapter Notes: A/N: It’s a landmark, people! Chappie ten! This requires some partying. That’s why I’ve got my Large and Wonderful Bottle of Ambrosia (a.k.a. a two liter bottle of Dr Pepper, oh baby). I do love the stuff. I also love free time. That’s why we’ve got chappie ten coming so soon. Anyway, since this author’s note is more delusional than usual (hey, that rhymes!), I’ll just say that this chappie is sponsored by Dr Pepper, duh, and my fantastic music list.
Also: This is the first chappie I've submitted since MNFF got their face lift. It's quite interesting how they've set it up now. But I digress. Onto the story!