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The boy stood with his feet planted firmly, swaying back and forth. A strand of jet black fell across his eye. He turned quickly and walked four steps away from the door before stopping, setting his body out of balance for only a moment and then he was still. He turned and step by step returned to the door, resolution filling his face. His hand raised, ready to knock, but it stopped inches short of the door and hung in mid air slowly changing from a fist to a palm which lowered down to his side. He held his breath, his other hand clutching tight a sheet of parchment. For a painful moment he stood, leaning toward the door, his whole frame betting to fall onto it. Then quite suddenly, he turned and marched off, tossing the page into a trash bin. B+. The nerve of it, really. The essay had been quite literally perfect.

On the other side of the door, Slughorn sipped a glass of Rosemerta's meade, his quill striking the page of yet another sad paper, marking another hastey grade whose hurt would never be known by the dealer.
Current Mood:
cranky fuck off and die
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Reasons I am pissed off:

1. I've gotten no word on the status of certain... plans.
2. Lupin is a whiney bitch.
3. I spent three hours in the library for no reason.
4. I missed a day of class and a lecture on fungi that I'll never get now.
5. Peeves got his hands on a dung bomb.
6. I spent an hour trying to get the stench of Pegasus shit out of my hair.
7. I missed dinner because I was in the shower.

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I've been released from the Hospital. I only missed one day of classes. That's one too many.

There's something fishy going on with Remus... I'll have to look into it.

Regulus: Have you made any progress?

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Severus lay silent, tucked tightly under the covers of one of the beds farthest to back of the hospital wing. After a dozen attempts to cure what, by every showing, should've been a nasty cold, Pomfrey had given up and resorted to heavy research and a correspondance with St. Mungos. When Severus had attempted to break free, claiming it barely bothered him at all and he needed to be in class, she'd physically struggled with him until he'd passed out.

He wasn't moving anymore. He didn't even stir to clean the snot that ran in streams down his upperlip and to the point of his chin.

It was raining outside.

It was raining inside.

Severus closed his eyes, and turned his head away from the window, ready to fall again into the deep sleep that lasted for hours and came on sporatically throughout the day.

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I seem to have caught a cold, or perhaps something worse. I've gone to see Pomfrey. She gave me a Pepperup potion, and it went away for a few hours, but it's come back, and it's waging war on my respiratory tract.

I must go to see her again, but I've homework to do before the night's through.

I'll go see her in the morning before breafast.

To RegulusCollapse )

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Severus strode down the hall. The lavatory was less than a hundred yards away and around a corner. His footsteps rung on the stone floors, the click of the soles of his shoes. He turned the corner and pushed the door so that it swung all the way in. No one here. Good.

He walked in, went straight to the sinks, washing his hands under the stream of icey lake water. He washed his hands often, though it never occured to him that the act might be unusual. If he let them go for more than four hours they started feeling grimey, and whether that was psychological, or his skin simply produced more natural oils than that of others (probable), he never let them stay dirty for long.

Severus stared at himself in the mirror for a moment before the door, with a whoosh, began to open behind him.

[Devitt and Black(of the Regulus variety)]

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Just got back from astronomy. What is the bloody point of looking at the stars for two hours straight weekly? All it ever gives me is a kink in my neck.

I found a toad in my bed this morning. I'm not sure if it was a prank, of if the damn thing just escaped its owner and found it's way to my dormitory.

I put it in a jar, and took it with me up the tower tonight.

Tossed it off the ledge.

I have high hopes that the thing died... but it's probable it just bounced back. Damn frogs.

* * *
The constant clink of silverware was maddening.

Alihotsy. Consumption of leaves induces hysteria.

Gillyweed. Gives eater ability to breathe under water.

Scurvy-grass. Induces hot headedness.

Aconite. Highly Poisonous.

Why did Lupin care so damn much about Aconite?

A heavy clunk brought Severus back from his silent pondering. Wilkes had set a jug of pumpkin juice down with such gusto that it sloshed over and made wide puddle of orange pulpy liquid.

Snape suddenly realized he'd been staring directly at Devitt's neck, his eyes unfocused, for the several minutes, and she was beginning to get suspicious.

[Open to Slytherins]

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Severus sat at the polished black table that stood at one end of the Slytherin common room. His things were spread out taking up half of the table and his head was bent low over a piece of blank parchment. History of Magic essay for Binns, four feet of parchment and scarcely a thought entered Severus's head on what exactly he should write.

The Goblin war of 1418....

No.

In the late winter of 1418...

Rubbish.

As the winter of 1418 drew to a close, strained ties...

Not bad...

Snape looked up. A group of first year girls were sitting at the other end of the common room, playing with glamour potions and hair clips. They were giggling and tossing their hair about. One girl's hair caught the firelight just right and seemed to turn to gold. She smiled as a friend painted her lips a shade of pink.

A black haired girl caught sight of Snape's quiet glare, and quickly allerted the others. Their heads turned, like those of antelopes at a watering hole having just discovered a threat in the bushes.

"Oh, just ignore him," Nancy Parkinson said from where she sat, watching the scene play out, "he's not snarling at you. That's just his face. He was born like that."

Nervous, the girls began to giggle. Stupid little girls. Snape went back to his essay.
Current Music:
The Young Crazed Peeling -- The Distillers
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