Along came a lady wearing a green dress and carrying a red handbag. There was no stuffed vulture on top of her head, but it still had a rather unpleasant effect on Snape.
“Are you a Boggart?” he asked.
“No,” the lady replied.
“Then who, or what, exactly are you?”
“My name is Hyacinth Bouquet, and I am the winner of Wizard Weekly’s annual Witch Etiquette contest”twenty-two years and running.”
“Excuse me?”
“Elbows off of the table, dear, if you don’t mind.” When he did not budge, the witch pulled out her wand and gave it a swish and flick while speaking an incantation.
But Snape was too quick for her. He pulled out his own wand and silently performed the counter spell.
“Tsk tsk. Bad manners; one must always speak the incantation that they are performing. It is not fair, nor polite, to catch another witch or wizard off-guard.”
“”Even if they were at the mercy of a Death Eater?” Snape inquired.
“Well, I say””
“”Or a former one, perhaps?”
“Now, now, it is not in good taste to go calling total strangers Death Eaters.”
“…I wasn’t referring to you,” he replied.
“Are you threatening me? Because if you are, sir, you must understand that I do not respond well to threats,” said Miss Bouquet, trying to keep her tone light.
“Nor do I to frumpy little old witches who go about, flaunting what little ‘talent’ they possess. If my only achievement in life were politeness, I would not be going around so brashly boasting about it.” There was a cold silence as Snape’s lips yet again twisted upwards. “Funny. I don’t recall the word ‘boasting’ ever accompanying the word ‘politeness’. So, you must be a braggart with no manners, and obviously no brain, if etiquette is the only thing you took the bother to study.”
The lady’s face turned a violent shade of red, and her fists clenched over her wand, which she rested on the table. “I see that you are trying to get me to blow up at you, but it’s not working,” she sang out, though her voice was cracking.
“Yes, that is my true ambition in life: to crack the great Witch of Omelet.”
“Etiquette.”
“Really? I thought it was ‘Omelet’ because you are clearly cracked.” It was usually beneath Snape to resort to puns, but his arsenal was now running low.
“You”you horrid, greasy, ugly man! How dare you say such things to me? You are by far the rudest person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting,” she said.
“Temper, temper,” Snape scolded. “Clearly you are not so above us all as you first thought. Notice that I have thus far controlled my rage. I do believe, Miss Bucket, that self-control is the key to good manners.”
Hyacinth Bouquet raised her wand and directed it at Snape. “It’s Bouquet!” she screamed, accidentally breaking her wand in two.
“Oh dear; it seems that Wizard Weekly’s finest has just lost her title.”
“You’ll”you’ll pay for this!”
“How? Are you going to beat me over the head with those little drumsticks you’re holding?”
“Oh, I’m sure your thick skull could take it.” And with that said, Hyacinth Bouquet turned and marched towards the little witches’ room.
“Clearly the only thing going through that witch’s mind is keeping up appearances. I pity her future husband….”
A few witches later, someone took notice of Lockhart’s absence and made casual mention of it. Snape looked around innocently. At least, as innocently as Snape can look. When all eyes rested on him he simply stated that Lockhart was “off looking in a mirror.” This statement was so characteristic of Lockhart that everyone shrugged and continued talking.
Snape sat rigidly in his chair, enjoying the lucky break he was getting, when…
“I heard that you were here and I had to come! I am your number one fan!” screamed a young witch dressed entirely in black.
Snape looked at her as she dashed across the room at him, mildly interested”very mildly, mind you. He was silent and waited for her to continue, which he had no doubt she would.
“I’m a Metamorphmagus! Watch!” The witch then puckered her lips so tightly that her eye bulbs seemed ready to drop out of their sockets. Then, much to Snape’s horror, he was looking back at”himself. “Fifty points from Gryffindor,” the other Snape said in a phony deep voice, then broke out into hysterics.
“You must have been a Hufflepuff,” Snape jeered.
“You will kindly speak only when spoken to”and your fire is up to high. Do you really want your Draught of Peace to turn into a Sniffling Serum?”
“There’s no such thing as a Sniffling””
“Sixty points from Gryffindor! I will curse you to high heaven if you ever, ever try to correct me again.”
The real Snape, now livid, sent up red sparks with his wand.
Perhaps, having known Snape as long as he had, Flitwick sensed his wrath, for he came hurrying over immediately to see what the problem was. “Anything I can help you with, Sever”” But that is all he managed to get out before spying the Snape double. His feelings were flitting between amusement and terror, when the fake Snape addressed him.
“There you are, Filius,” the girl said. “Would you talk some sense into this boy? He obviously does not appreciate the subtle art that is Potion-brewing.”
This was much too much for Flitwick. He burst out laughing. “Snape, it’s you!” he roared.
“Silence! How dare you laugh at me,” the other Snape snapped, causing Flitwick to clutch to his sides. “Where’s a Gryffindor, so I can take points away from them?”
“Stop! Stop! Oh, oh, this is too much! My sides!”
“Kindly assist me in cleaning this dunderhead’s cauldron; apparently he can’t tell the difference between a 180-degree stir and a 181-degree stir.”
“Make it stop, make it stop!” Tears were now rolling down Flitwick’s craggy cheeks as he fell to the floor and began pounding his fists against the boards in fits.
“Pull yourself together, Flitwick; I’m fresh out of calming potions,” said Snape two.
“That sounds nothing like”” the real Snape began, but was interrupted.
“Seventy points and detention, I think. Look at me storm around like there’s Stinksap under my nose!” The Metamorphmagus then proceeded to storm around the table, her nose stuck up in the air and her cape billowing out behind her.
“That’s exactly how he looks! Oh dear, oh dear. Severus, are you hearing this? Severus?” Flitwick rose when he did not hear a response. He looked around but there was no sign of the real Snape. “Severus?”
“What is it?” spat the girl.
“Not you; I was talking to the real Snape.”
The impostor rolled his”er, her”eyes. “Have you gone mental, man? There is only one Severus Snape, Potions Master.”
“That’s very funny, dear, but I’ve got to find”Ah, there he is!” Flitwick squealed as he spotted a rather dark figure hastening towards the wizards’ lavatory. “Excuse me.” With that said, Flitwick left the Metamorphmagus to her impersonations, which were getting worse by the minute. “Severus?”
“Go away,” growled a voice from the other side of the door.
“Why are you hiding?”
“Why do you think?”
“You’re being a big baby. Come out here before I decide to tell all of the students back at Hogwarts about this.”
There was a pause. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?”
Snape seemed to be pondering this for a moment, then there was a little “click” and the door opened. “I’ll come out as long as you”” He stopped in mid-sentence, for he had just spied a greasy-haired, hook-nosed witch emerging from the witches’ bathroom.
Snape Speed-Dating by Bethywoo
Chapter Notes: I do not own Keeping up Appearences nor its delightful characters. I do not own Snape (thank goodness!); I do not own Flitwick (*sigh*), and I do not own any other Harry Potter characters... obviously. Thanks again to my wonderful betas for their hard work. And a special thanks to Jo... for not suing me ;)