The Taming of the Snape

Snape clean-spelled up the wasted Ogden’s and summoned the company of another bottle. He gazed at the glass he was holding and for good measure put an ‘anti-spill’ charm on it. He followed that up with a ‘perpetual top up’ charm.

The brat *man* was insane. He told his conscience to sod off and stop correcting him.

The child *man* was an insufferable*sexy* good-for-nothing *hunk* Green eyed *yummy* bow legged (well Harry wasn’t bow legged but Snape threw it in for good measure) Gryffindor. The Gryffindor bit stuck in his craw most of all; he noticed his conscience had nothing to say on the matter.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. **Sigh** Snape opened his eyes and took a deep swig.

With a Toast to Ogden and to his own waning sanity he continued to read. His eyes wearily crossed the parchment becoming wider and wider as he progressed.

Suddenly he jerked upright. As if the “How….” Wasn’t sufficient, he was now being subjected to “Why …”

He peered around the flowing parchment hesitantly, to check how much was left unread and it dawned on him that he was only a third of the way through. For a moment he starred into the fire. In another moment his thoughts were lost to the golden hue of Ogden’s.

But, the ink glittered in rainbow hues; the words beckoned him into their embrace. The floating scroll silently tormented him.

He rubbed absentmindedly at his chest. At the ache that had formed above his heart. His eyes of their own command drifted along the page which scrolled up as they read. He could no more curb the desire to read than he could sway a wave to stay upon the shore.

He was pleased to note in Potters *Harry’s* ‘Why…’ musings that Potter *Harry* recognised and appreciated Snapes’ contribution to his continued existence in the Wizarding world. Although when exactly he saw through the snap and spit, Snape wasn’t so sure.

Snape sipped with growing amusement. Ahh Grumbledore your precious Gryffindork loves me. **snigger** He raised his glass in a mock toast to Bumblebore.

Without the benefit of refilling his glass Snape couldn’t really judge how much he had drank. At least the room wasn’t spinning, and a quick peek assured him that the rug was still on the floor.

He was in the land of ‘Happy and Fuzzy’ when his eyes fell on …

“Where …”

He had actually read a few lines with appreciation for creativity when reality hit him. (Well actually it was the floor, and he had hit it)

Snapishly he rose from the floor and glared at his portrait for good measure. He unceremoniously plonked himself back into the chair.

Gave absentminded thanks for the charms on his glass and scanned the remaining span of parchment abruptly.

Making a mental note of some places he had honestly never thought of. He vowed to check them next time he had to do the ‘Hogwarts paternity prevention patrol’, as he liked to call it.

He fumed about the brat *man* baiting a teacher. Spat about overuse of the word nibble. Hissed about disregard for school property and rules, and then caught him self mentally giggling about the use of chandeliers.

Inspiration (courtesy of Ogden) sashayed his way.