Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Billowing Robes ❯ Billowing Robes ( Chapter 1 )
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By: OmniaVanitus 
OneShot. A simple debate on the vanity of Slytherins.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Mystery | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.21.2012 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 795 | Status: Completed
OneShot. A simple debate on the vanity of Slytherins.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Mystery | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.21.2012 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 795 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story.
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Black pristine robes billowed and fluttered out behind him as he strolled across the old worn wooden floors of Grimmauld Place. No sound arose from him save for the rustling of his clothing as he moved, and in his hands he carried a large goblet containing the wolfsbane potion for that…that werewolf of an ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He still couldn’t believe that the headmaster would have him brew up anything for anyone of that lot, especially since Lupin was no longer even a teacher at Hogwarts.
Though, he supposed, he was being rather whiny about the whole situation…but of course that didn’t mean that he wanted to do anything for them nor that he couldn’t just bring the potion over whenever he deemed it prudent. He swung open a set of double doors, effectively interrupting the once happily-conversing dinner table. Oh, how he loved to cause such drama amongst old school rivals.
A gangly black-haired man, who had once tormented him in his youth, stood abruptly from his place beside his godchild and old childhood friend. “Get out,” he growled as though he was some mangy mutt guarding his territory, and to Snape, the analogy wasn’t far off.
“It would be my greatest of pleasures, Black, to rid myself of your presence, however, allow me first to express the headmaster’s best wishes,” the intruder replied, revealing the goblet brimming with wolfsbane.
“Why thank you, Severus,” Remus said quickly as he stood, placing a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “Your kindness is much appreciated.” Snape, however, barely even acknowledged the werewolf, never taking his glaring eyes off Black. “Perhaps you would care to join us for dinner,” he continued, though stopped when he received a series of murderous glares from both men as well as from the other dinner guests. “Or perhaps some other time…,” he trailed off before nervously clearing his throat.
Severus gave the table, filled with seemingly edible concoctions, a disgusted sneer before replying with a simple, “I think not.”
A low growl slowly brought his attention back to Sirius. “Then why are you still here, Snape?”
Releasing a tortuously bored sigh, the potions master arched an eyebrow, looking rather pointedly from the goblet, still filled with the steaming potion, to a sheepish looking Lupin before his eyes finally rested on Sirius again.
With a sharp elbow to his side, Remus quickly took hold of the goblet, downing the putrid potion as his lips twitched disdainfully as the vile tasting liquid oozed down his throat. Swallowing against the aftertaste, he finally handed the now drained goblet back to their uninvited guest.
“There you go, now off with you,” Sirius glowered, shooing him away with his hands.
“It would be only my greatest desire, Black,” he bit out, swirling around to stalk out the doors, his robes once again billowing out behind him like black death, leaving his onlookers to stare after him in awkward silence.
“Fifty galleons says he charms his robes to do that,” Black called out to his dinner guests.
A loud chortle erupted from Hermione. “I doubt Snape would charm his robes to simply billow and flutter about. Deflect hexes, yes. Repel the spray of botched potions, yes. But to charm them to billow, highly unlikely.”
“Poor Miss Little Naive Hermione Granger,” Sirius tsked as he shook his head. “Apparently you don’t fully comprehend the vanity of Slytherins and how far they’ll go to make themselves look good…,” then as an after thought, “…or at least try to.”
“Oh really, and exactly what would they do?”
“I have you know, that I have it on the highest authority…” Black broke off, looking around conspiratorially before continuing, “that Lucius Malfoy bleaches his hair.”
“Oh really.”
“Oh yes. Without his little hair treatments, his signature platinum blond locks would be nothing more than dish water blond.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it? That’s it?! Hermione, do you not realize how volatile hair treatment potions can be? The fumes alone could kill you if not in a properly ventilated room.”
Hermione tilted her head, a skeptical look marking her features.
“Ok, maybe kill is too strong of a word…but it could make you very nauseous.”
“And tell me, exactly how do you know this?”
“Why because of Wormtail, of course,” Remus said as he leaned forward in his chair, giving a rather wolfish grin.
Black barked out a harsh laugh. “Yep, poor sod developed a bit of early male pattern baldness while we were still in our seventh year. We tried to convince him to just shave it all off and get it done and over with, but he was still clinging to hope I guess.”
Hermione looked from Sirius to Remus and back again, clearly not swayed. “You’re making this entire thing up aren’t you?”
Sirius collapsed dramatically back into his chair clutching to Remus with one hand as his other clung his chest, fake tears starting to brim his eyes. “Hermione, why must you wound me so?”
Hermione stood up, making a rather indignant noise as she did so, while sounds of laughter carried her through the doors and down the hallway. There were other things she could be doing, right? Yeah, like reading. Or doing homework. Or eavesdropping on Snape as he stood in the foyer pulling out two rather disheveled looking house elves from under his robes.
Snape stood over two breathless house elves, who were still somehow managing to cower as they wheezed for air. “Very good,” he said beaming at them, “but next time blow harder. How can you possibly expect me to intimidate anyone with that pathetic breeze. Think tornado!”
As Snape finished his little “pep talk,” one of the poor elves fainted, her thin legs and arms twitching convulsively. “Master, I think she’s suffocated.”
Severus gave an exasperated sigh. He did tell them to work on their breath support didn’t he? “Well, never matter. Bring her along.”
As they disappeared into the floo network, Granger made her way back to the dining room. Standing over the chair she had just been sitting, she took one of the napkins and wrote an I.O.U. for fifty galleons before placing it in front of Black, tapping it with her finger. Eyeing her suspiciously, he pulled out a worn coin purse, weighing it in his hand before placing it on top of the napkin.
“I have you know, that I have it on the highest authority, that Professor Severus Snape, does not charm his robes to billow.” This was easiest fifty galleons she ever made.
________________________________________
Black pristine robes billowed and fluttered out behind him as he strolled across the old worn wooden floors of Grimmauld Place. No sound arose from him save for the rustling of his clothing as he moved, and in his hands he carried a large goblet containing the wolfsbane potion for that…that werewolf of an ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He still couldn’t believe that the headmaster would have him brew up anything for anyone of that lot, especially since Lupin was no longer even a teacher at Hogwarts.
Though, he supposed, he was being rather whiny about the whole situation…but of course that didn’t mean that he wanted to do anything for them nor that he couldn’t just bring the potion over whenever he deemed it prudent. He swung open a set of double doors, effectively interrupting the once happily-conversing dinner table. Oh, how he loved to cause such drama amongst old school rivals.
A gangly black-haired man, who had once tormented him in his youth, stood abruptly from his place beside his godchild and old childhood friend. “Get out,” he growled as though he was some mangy mutt guarding his territory, and to Snape, the analogy wasn’t far off.
“It would be my greatest of pleasures, Black, to rid myself of your presence, however, allow me first to express the headmaster’s best wishes,” the intruder replied, revealing the goblet brimming with wolfsbane.
“Why thank you, Severus,” Remus said quickly as he stood, placing a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “Your kindness is much appreciated.” Snape, however, barely even acknowledged the werewolf, never taking his glaring eyes off Black. “Perhaps you would care to join us for dinner,” he continued, though stopped when he received a series of murderous glares from both men as well as from the other dinner guests. “Or perhaps some other time…,” he trailed off before nervously clearing his throat.
Severus gave the table, filled with seemingly edible concoctions, a disgusted sneer before replying with a simple, “I think not.”
A low growl slowly brought his attention back to Sirius. “Then why are you still here, Snape?”
Releasing a tortuously bored sigh, the potions master arched an eyebrow, looking rather pointedly from the goblet, still filled with the steaming potion, to a sheepish looking Lupin before his eyes finally rested on Sirius again.
With a sharp elbow to his side, Remus quickly took hold of the goblet, downing the putrid potion as his lips twitched disdainfully as the vile tasting liquid oozed down his throat. Swallowing against the aftertaste, he finally handed the now drained goblet back to their uninvited guest.
“There you go, now off with you,” Sirius glowered, shooing him away with his hands.
“It would be only my greatest desire, Black,” he bit out, swirling around to stalk out the doors, his robes once again billowing out behind him like black death, leaving his onlookers to stare after him in awkward silence.
“Fifty galleons says he charms his robes to do that,” Black called out to his dinner guests.
A loud chortle erupted from Hermione. “I doubt Snape would charm his robes to simply billow and flutter about. Deflect hexes, yes. Repel the spray of botched potions, yes. But to charm them to billow, highly unlikely.”
“Poor Miss Little Naive Hermione Granger,” Sirius tsked as he shook his head. “Apparently you don’t fully comprehend the vanity of Slytherins and how far they’ll go to make themselves look good…,” then as an after thought, “…or at least try to.”
“Oh really, and exactly what would they do?”
“I have you know, that I have it on the highest authority…” Black broke off, looking around conspiratorially before continuing, “that Lucius Malfoy bleaches his hair.”
“Oh really.”
“Oh yes. Without his little hair treatments, his signature platinum blond locks would be nothing more than dish water blond.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it? That’s it?! Hermione, do you not realize how volatile hair treatment potions can be? The fumes alone could kill you if not in a properly ventilated room.”
Hermione tilted her head, a skeptical look marking her features.
“Ok, maybe kill is too strong of a word…but it could make you very nauseous.”
“And tell me, exactly how do you know this?”
“Why because of Wormtail, of course,” Remus said as he leaned forward in his chair, giving a rather wolfish grin.
Black barked out a harsh laugh. “Yep, poor sod developed a bit of early male pattern baldness while we were still in our seventh year. We tried to convince him to just shave it all off and get it done and over with, but he was still clinging to hope I guess.”
Hermione looked from Sirius to Remus and back again, clearly not swayed. “You’re making this entire thing up aren’t you?”
Sirius collapsed dramatically back into his chair clutching to Remus with one hand as his other clung his chest, fake tears starting to brim his eyes. “Hermione, why must you wound me so?”
Hermione stood up, making a rather indignant noise as she did so, while sounds of laughter carried her through the doors and down the hallway. There were other things she could be doing, right? Yeah, like reading. Or doing homework. Or eavesdropping on Snape as he stood in the foyer pulling out two rather disheveled looking house elves from under his robes.
Snape stood over two breathless house elves, who were still somehow managing to cower as they wheezed for air. “Very good,” he said beaming at them, “but next time blow harder. How can you possibly expect me to intimidate anyone with that pathetic breeze. Think tornado!”
As Snape finished his little “pep talk,” one of the poor elves fainted, her thin legs and arms twitching convulsively. “Master, I think she’s suffocated.”
Severus gave an exasperated sigh. He did tell them to work on their breath support didn’t he? “Well, never matter. Bring her along.”
As they disappeared into the floo network, Granger made her way back to the dining room. Standing over the chair she had just been sitting, she took one of the napkins and wrote an I.O.U. for fifty galleons before placing it in front of Black, tapping it with her finger. Eyeing her suspiciously, he pulled out a worn coin purse, weighing it in his hand before placing it on top of the napkin.
“I have you know, that I have it on the highest authority, that Professor Severus Snape, does not charm his robes to billow.” This was easiest fifty galleons she ever made.