One-shot! Ever wonder why Snape's hair is the way it is?
(Originally named Kraeg001)
SUMMARY: Nothing much; this is just some stupid little idea in my head that wouldn't go away. Not really meant to be serious, anyway.
It was another horrible Monday for the Gryffindors, owing to the fact they were in their first class. What could make Mondays even worse for this house of the brave, noble and courageous? Yup, you guessed it: Potions.
Today, Professor Snape, the Potions Master, was teaching them how to make an advanced kind of potion.
No sooner than he had told them to begin there was a knock on the door. "Come in," he said in his dark voice.
It was Professor Dumbledore. "Hello, Severus," he said, smiling. The Gryffindors stopped what they were doing and savored the moment; Dumbledore's shining and powerful presence brightened the gloom of the dungeon.
"What is it, Headmaster?" Snape asked.
"I believe someone is here to see you," Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling.
Snape had a funny feeling this couldn't be good. Of course, he didn't let his fear show. He was Professor Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, Potions Master, and the only teacher in the school who knew how to keep their students under control.
Turning back to the class, he said, "I shall be gone for five minutes; I expect all of you to follow the directions and not cause a mess." With that, he glided out with his black robes billowing behind him.
The class continued to work, although some more lively conversation followed. Ron, however, accidentally knocked a fig into his cauldron, which caused it to hiss and splatter a little.
"Youch!" Hermione cried as a drop of it leapt onto her hair. "Ron, be CAREFUL!"
As Harry quickly put it out, Ron commented, "Hey, at least it won't be greasy like Snape's."
"Pardon me?" came a quiet but dangerous voice from the doorway. Snape had returned, looking angry in all his dark glory.
The class gasped and went silent, except for the continuous bubbling of the cauldrons and the hissing of the fires. Ron went chalk white as Harry and Hermione backed up.
"You know, Mister Weasley," Snape continued angrily, slamming the door behind him, "You really shouldn't judge others like that."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked.
Snape glared at the Gryffindor Trio. "One student has hair which looks like a bird's nest, and I'm surprised his owl doesn't sleep in it. Another student has bushy hair, looking like an electrocuted chipmunk. The third looks as though his face will burst into flames at any moment. And you dare criticize /me/?"
The class went silent as Harry, Ron and Hermione blinked and didn't say anything. As the Slytherins sniggered a little, Snape said, "Enough, now get back to work."
Deep down, Snape was bursting with dark joy; he had wanted to say that to Potter, Weasley and Granger for years.
His thoughts then wandered to what he had to retrieve just before; the bottle of Sleakeazy's Black Shampoo: Nice and Greasy.
'And they say I don't wash my hair,' he thought victoriously. 'What in Merlin's beard do they know?'