The Snappy_endings Mad Libs Entries
Severus Snape and the Centaur at Marrakech, by
the_bitter_wordSeverus Snape snarked as he ducked to avoid a Dissendium hex from Lucius Malfoy. Since Bellatrix Lestrange had caught him blushing, and told the Dark Lord everything, he knew that he wouldn’t last long unless he got away from Grauman's Chinese Theatre - where the Death Eaters had their headquarters – as fast as he could.
Fortunately, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a talent. Not wasting a moment, he twisted the talent and hid behind it, holding his breath as he watched Lucius Malfoy lead the Death Eaters past. After what seemed like eternity, he heard no further hooting from the Dark Lord’s minions, so he decided it was safe enough to risk airport busing to Marrakech, where he could hide out for a day or two and plan his next move.
A few days later, as he skittered around the loo at Marrakech, Severus was by now so distraught that he could barely sleep at night. There was a war on, and he was on the run from both sides of it… so why were things still so awfully quiet? Something surely had to be wrong - he could feel it in the pit of his tongue.
Suddenly, he heard a loud whack outside the front door. It sounded like Firenze… or one of Voldemort’s Chief Inquisitors Polyjuiced as him. There was only one way to find out – holding his wand at the ready, Severus quickly disguised himself as a footstool with a spell, and then silently cast another to unlock the door.
The door opened slowly with a jingle as Firenze crept inside. “Professor Snape?” he carefully called out, “Professor, are you here? It is I, Firenze. If you are here, it is safe for you to come out – the war is over, and Voldemort has been cut a new one!”
When his Dark Mark failed to nauseate his arm at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name, Severus knew then that Firenze was who he said he was, that Voldemort was finally vertigoed, and that the world was safer again… for the time being. Skating himself with his wand, Severus stood up and walked over to Firenze, saying; “Phew, I thought I was a goner for sure!”
“Yup, so did I”, Firenze replied, before he and Severus cuddled in relief.
Severus went on to become a renowned inventor of potions to cure common ailments. He created Hair-Today, a male hair growth potion that ended the tragedy of wizard baldness forever. Snape also introduced Snore-No-More, alleviating the misery of too many to count. One day, he paid a visit to Firenze, who by then had moved to Westminster Abbey, married Ludo Bagman, and already had 677 screwed children with another on the way. They talked about the old days, Hogwarts, the war, and how Harry had cut a new one on Voldemort.
“Sometimes, I wonder how I managed to still be here today,” he said as Firenze poured him another cup of Harvey Wallbanger. “You and whose army?” Firenze said – and Severus curled his lip in amusement as he laughed last at his forearm. The Dark Mark had disappeared from it years ago, seven days after Voldemort was cut a new one. In its place was now a faint, silvery scar.
Severus Snape and the Charms Professor at London, by
fawkesflamesSeverus Snape waited as he ducked to avoid an Imperious Curse from Lucius Malfoy. Since Bellatrix Lestrange had caught him singing, and told the Dark Lord everything, he knew that he wouldn’t last long unless he got away from Hogsmeade Station - where the Death Eaters had their headquarters – as fast as he could.
Fortunately, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a broomstick. Not wasting a moment, he glided the broomstick and hid behind it, holding his breath as he watched Malfoy lead the Death Eaters past. After what seemed like eternity, he heard no further beeping from the Dark Lord’s minions, so he decided it was safe enough to risk flying a carpet to London, where he could hide out for a day or two and plan his next move.
A few days later, as he stomped around the basement at London, Severus was by now so depressed that he could barely sleep at night. There was a war on, and he was on the run from both sides of it… so why were things still so awfully quiet? Something surely had to be wrong - he could feel it in the pit of his toe.
Suddenly, he heard a loud squeak outside the front door. It sounded like Professor Flitwick … or one of Voldemort’s Janitors Polyjuiced as him. There was only one way to find out – holding his wand at the ready, Severus quickly disguised himself as a bean bag chair with a spell, and then silently cast another to unlock the door.
The door opened slowly with a honk as Flitwick crept inside. “Professor Snape?” he carefully called out, “Professor, are you here? It’s me, Professor Flitwick! If you’re here, it’s safe for you to come out – the war’s over, Voldemort has had his head put down the toilet!”
When his Dark Mark failed to punch his arm at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name, Severus knew then that Flitwick was who he said he was, that Voldemort was finally splinched, and that the world was safer again… for the time being. Pouncing himself with his wand, Severus stood up and walked over to Flitwick, saying; “*Sigh*”.
“Oh thank God”, Flitwick replied, before he and Severus hugged in relief.
Severus went on to finally get the now un-cursed, DADA position at Hogwarts, and spent his evenings forcing young Gyrffindors to dissect newts without the protection of gloves. One day, he paid a visit to Professor Flitwick, who by then had moved to the Bermuda Triangle, married Horace Slughorn, and already had 5 silver children with another on the way. They talked about the old days, Hogwarts, the war, and how Harry had had put Voldemort’s head down the toilet.
“Sometimes, I wonder how I managed to still be here today,” he said as Flitwick poured him another cup of Mead. “I know you are but what am I?” Flitwick said – and Severus curled his lip in amusement as he tapped his forearm. The Dark Mark had disappeared from it years ago, seven days after Voldemort was slam-dunked. In its place was now a faint, silvery scar.
Severus Snape and the Cat Breeder at Taiwan, by
florence_crayeSeverus Snape jangled as he ducked to avoid a Oppugno hex from Karkaroff. Since Bellatrix had caught him knitting, and told the Dark Lord everything, he knew that he wouldn’t last long unless he got away from Tunbridge Wells - where the Death Eaters had their headquarters – as fast as he could.
Fortunately, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a nose. Not wasting a moment, he jingled the nose and hid behind it, holding his breath as he watched Karkaroff lead the Death Eaters past. After what seemed like eternity, he heard no further rasping from the Dark Lord’s minions, so he decided it was safe enough to risk flying a carpet to Taiwan, where he could hide out for a day or two and plan his next move.
A few days later, as he transcribed around the butler's pantry at Taiwan, Severus was by now so perplexed that he could barely sleep at night. There was a war on, and he was on the run from both sides of it… so why were things still so awfully quiet? Something surely had to be wrong - he could feel it in the pit of his ankle.
Suddenly, he heard a loud KERPLUNK! outside the front door. It sounded like Ms. Figg… or one of Voldemort’s Librarians Polyjuiced as her. There was only one way to find out – holding his wand at the ready, Severus quickly disguised himself as a Chaise Lounge with a spell, and then silently cast another to unlock the door.
The door opened slowly with a BLAMMO! as Ms. Figg crept inside. “Professor Snape?” he/she carefully called out, “Professor, are you here? It’s me, Ms. Figg! If you’re here, it’s safe for you to come out – the war’s over, Voldemort has been splinched!”
When his Dark Mark failed to twist his arm at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name, Severus knew then that Ms. Figg was who she said she was, that Voldemort was finally nauseated, and that the world was safer again… for the time being. Deriding himself with his wand, Severus stood up and walked over to Ms. Figg, saying; “Whew!”.
“What a relief”, Ms. Figg replied, before she and Severus secret Masonic handshaked in relief.
After the war, Snape was offered a Potions Master position with a well-established wizarding university in Belgium. One day, he paid a visit to Ms. Figg who by then had moved to Zimbabwe, married Neville Longbottom, and already had 541 crenellated children with another on the way. They talked about the old days, Hogwarts, the war, and how Harry had splinched Voldemort.
“Sometimes, I wonder how I managed to still be here today,” he said as Ms. Figg poured him another cup of Blue Hawaiian. “So sez you”, Ms. Figg said – and Severus curled his lip in amusement as he whirled and twirled his forearm. The Dark Mark had disappeared from it years ago, seven days after Voldemort was splinched. In its place was now a faint, silvery scar.