Title: The Diary of Severus Snape 1/7
Authors: TrinityTheSheDevil and LeggyLover03
Rating: T (Teen) at least!
Genre: Humor
Warnings: Completely AU and totally OOC. If you're here looking for canon, please go elsewhere. We're so far off the mark it isn't even funny ... but ... yet it is funny! Mwahahahaha.
Summary: The diary of Snape, lasting through Harry's years at Hogwarts. (Written with LeggyLover03.)

A/N:

This was inspired by my (Trin's) "Diary of a Father" fic and Rhonda's (LeggyLover's) "The Diary of Elrond". We decided to put our heads together and see what evilness would spill out. This was it. Do enjoy but remember, it is all in good fun. If you've read either of our fics, you should have some inkling of what to expect. If not, please keep your arms and legs inside the car at all times until the ride comes to a complete stop!

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Year 1

September -

I, Severus Snape, have decided to start a diary for the coming years. I feel that I will need an outlet for my suffering; yes, suffering. For Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. Pah. He rather looks like a pansy if you ask me. Honestly, You-Know-Who couldn't off that four-eyed brat? He looks like a stiff wind could knock him over. I shall, of course, give him the usual Slytherin greeting. He is Gryffindor, after all, much like his airhead of a father.

- One Week Later -

So I have learned to never sneak up on Potter. Especially while he is brewing an everlasting paint potion. A scalding hot cauldron of red everlasting paint, knocked into my lap, is not a good thing. Burns should not be there and my ... unmentionable now looks like a red valentine sucker, covered in blisters. Ow ow ow. Where did I put that everlasting ice. Potter is dead.

October -

It is now Halloween and I feel revenge is imminent. The brat Harry Potter will be the death of me. He has turned Dumbledore into a bumbling pile of goo whenever he is around, I therefore have a surprise for him.

In my brilliance I have let a troll into the castle and given it a single thought, rid me of Harry Potter, my mistake. It seems trolls, like Quirrell are not the most intelligent creatures despite what Hagrid says. Harry and the duo of twits he calls friends have torn the bathroom apart and knocked it unconscious.

Dumbledore is furious, McGonagall is now swooning over all three and I have been left to dispose of the troll who has slobbered on itself and released everything in its colon onto the floor.

Dumbledore has assured me that I need to do this chore without the use of magic as punishment, and as I wade through the piles of snot and shit I swear vengence on Harry Potter, also I feel Quirrell must die for he is an idiot.

November -

As fall is decidedly upon us, I had the urge to go outside and rest among the grass and browning trees. However it seemed that to others, this was the opportune moment. Perhaps they thought it to be funny (well I certainly did not see the humor in it) when the trio of brats bewitched the pile of leaves Hagrid had raked so that it would attack me ... and then "eat" me. Honestly, leaves were not the only thing in that pile and as I sat in the "stomach" of the giant leaf monster (who seemed fascinated with other trees) among the piles of feces and bugs and other disgusting things, I plotted payback.

Well, I plotted until the leaf monster decided to make love to the whomping willow. The willow does have good striking distance; I just thank whoever is listening that Flitwick broke my fall, or surely I would have a broken back.

As it is, the trio are now doing several weeks of detention, studying the sexual habits of flobberworms and their mating signals. I do hope they enjoy the stench of the male flobberworms mating call, they will not be able to wash it out for a very long time.

December -

Hohoho my arse. The holidays are upon us and again I received no gift. Correction I did receive a flaming bag of dragon shit by my door the other day but I do not call that a gift.

The students have left for the winter break and yet I still see Harry Potter. I loathe him, I wish nothing but the worst for him, and at the moment the thought of strangling him with one of the garlands is not far from my mind.

I must write about the Yule festivities. I avoided Potter for most of the night, deciding instead to linger by the punch bowl, again I say my mistake. The heathen spiked the punch and after six cups I found myself growing very warm. I should have known when McGonagall started looking appealing to stop drinking, but I was drowning my sorrows and chugged another glass.

I awoke to find myself dressed in a red suit, McGonagall in nothing more than her tartan bonnet laying beside me. Slowly I tried to creep from underneath her but she seemed to be happy where she was. An hour later the thought of gnawing my arm off to get away seemed acceptable, and that it when my door slowly opened and the flash of a camera going off alerted me to the situation.

I jumped up, wand in hand and chased the culprits out the door, only to feel a draft. It seems I was only wearing the upper part of the suit and now I am left standing in the hallway in a red thong. I must return to my room and obliviate McGonagall.

And they heard me exclaim as Potter dove out of sight, "Who painted my testicles red, green, and white!"

January -

I have a pretty good idea about who spiked my tea (I should be wary of any and all food and/or liquids by now, I'm sure) and had me go figure skating on the frozen lake, clad in nothing but a scarf. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that my body was that flexible; indeed, it is not, unless jinxed by a certain Gryffindor and his friends.

As well, the headmaster himself seemed delighted at the entertainment from his window (for all of half an hour, before he realized that my manhood was swaying in the cold, looking for all the world like a frozen, hairy popsicle) as he gave me points from his wand for the tricks I performed. The entire student body also enjoyed my performance, since they took pictures - for Christmas cards, next year, I'm sure.

Thankfully McGonagall stopped entire thing - she will pay for that little smirk later however - and obliviated all of the students, confiscating any cameras that she could find too. Harry, Hermione, and Ron are in detention (although they now have no idea why) and I myself - after tenderly snapping off the frozen icicles hanging from my crevices - am soaking in a hot tub, waiting for my manhood to return from hiding since it was very, very cold outside.

February -

Another wasted holiday as I sit here alone, and with no card. McGonagall did feel sorry for me and sent me a card but after Yule I had to burn it along with the lasting memories.

The Gryffindors have made me violently ill by poisoning a batch of brownies with what the muggle vermin call Ex-lax. I have prayed to every God in every religion that I know of to stop the release of my bowels but none have listened and I have spent over half the day laying next to the toilet, afraid the venture to far. It is here that my owl found me.

I untied the card from her talon and opened it up, but what was inside gave me no comfort at all. It seems Alabastor Moody was looking at more than he was supposed to last time he was here and now he wishes to come to comfort me in my time of need.

Before I can scurry from the loo he enters my room, and proceeds towards me. He offers me a drink, and I take it and down the contents of his flask. The smile on his face assures me I cannot possibly be drunk enough, and when he opens his trench coat I see that he is dressed in nothing but a nappie, and is holding a bow an arrow.

I try to run, really I did, diving for my wand. He has admonished me for not having it with me, some nonsense about constant vilgilance. He is now hanging by his nappie from the top of the astronomy tower and I am in my rooms trying to remove his arrow from my arse. Potter must know about this, and therefore should be maimed, but first I feel a bottle of lubricant is in order for this is going to hurt coming out.

March -

Looking back, I realize now that my first mistake was ever agreeing to possibly the dumbest idea in the history of Hogwarts. It seems some of the students wished to create a play, of sorts. After some debate, they decided upon some muggle writer's (Token, I believe his name was) book about a magic ring and house elf wars. Or something, I don't have time to actually read these things.

They came to me with the idea that I could be in their play, as they had the perfect part for me. After I agreed, I was then transfigured into a shiny ring and put on none other than Harry Potter's finger.

Even in my then state, I could hear him snickering away and knew that it was his idea. He will die.

It was not so bad in the beginning - I was fought over, fought over some more, and found by some odd creature. However, in the middle of the play when the Ring (Ring, being me) was supposed to flip through the air and land on Harry's finger, somehow someone missed.

Instead, I was swallowed by Harry Potter. Odd when one says that, but I was. And apparently, I learn after I ... escaped ... that the only thing Dumbledore could think of was to let me be ... digested.

The digestive track of Harry Potter is disgusting, to say in the least. However that was not the worst part, oh no. But we will not speak of that and as soon as I finish this entry, Dumbledore has agreed to obliviate me. They did not even have to decency to wash me off when I was in ring form! No, they just transfigured me back to normal.

Three showers later, I am still not clean enough. What does that boy eat anyway!

In closing, I will just say that I hope Harry Potter's asshole is hurting him as much as possible, since it was not made to accommodate a shiny ring!

April -

How is it three eleven year old children can cause me so much grief. I begged Dumbledore just the other day to let me rid him of of them all, but he told me in no uncertain terms no. I could have done without the four hour lecture on my inability to convey love an understanding.

The Dark Lord is calling and my robes have not been returned by the stupid house elves. I will give them all clothes once I have hung them by their ears from the ceiling.

I apparated to the Dark Lord and was summoned at once to the inner circle to join the others. I could feel him staring at me and he called me forward.

"Prepare the potion," he said. Always he wants me to prepare the potion as if he never learned anything in all his years at Hogwarts. Personally I have heard the rumors, he was less than popular with the women.

I pull my wand from my pocket to stir his wicked potion, but it was not my wand. It seems I have been pranked yet again and instead I now hold a rather large example of the male anatomy. This is sure to get me a curse or two, but at the moment the Dark Lord is too busy staring in awe at the thing which is now wiggling in my hand.

Potter will die as soon as I can remove the curse which has me standing on my head.

I have returned to the castle a bit drained. The Dark Lord has cursed me many times and now I am in search of Potter. I find him, but of course he is surrounded by his fellow Gryffindors. I will bide my time but soon Potter will be in need of Madame Pomfrey to remove my foot from his arse.

May -

It is getting warmer and nearing the end of the schoolyear. As well, the time for end of year tests draws closer. Tension is thick in the air. I have already dodged three curses this week from high-strung six years. Doubling my guard, I am on the lookout constantly for potential hazards and dangerous situations. You would think that working for You-Know-Who would mean I am very good at detecting stealth. Strong in the matters of curses and spells, quick in defending myself, and damn near indestructible.

Alas, I was taken out by an eleven year old boy and his partners in crime.

As I sit here, hanging from the ceiling of the great hall with my robe wrapped around my head with Dumbledore asking WHY am I wearing Garfield underpants, I realize that Harry Potter is indeed a force to be reckoned with; also I thank my stars that today I decided to wear any underpants at all.

June -

I was so excited as today was the last day for students. No more Potter, I would be free from him for the entire summer, but he had other plans.

I was making my rounds in potions class when I felt I should give back to Potter since he has been so giving to me. I walked past his cauldron and let the released the most heinous gas. It was silent but the look on his face was priceless as he gagged. I felt quite good if I do say so myself.

My happiness was short lived. Granger is far too smart for her own good and gave Potter a spell. I again walked past him to release the bean curd I had eaten, but as I released the putrid smell my anus started to burn. Not just any burn, but a slow burn which seemed to intensify with each passing second, along with an itching sensation that had me dying to dig into my trousers for relief.

I am now standing with the other teachers seeing off the brats for summer. I regret eating the roast beef at lunch as the gas has been building up all day. Before the train can leave I feel another spasm and I cannot hold this one in.

I release it and my eyes water the smell making me gag, the green smoke billowing from my arse giving away my secret. McGonagall has retched upon my shoes, Filch's cat scratching at my arse as if it were a litter pan, and then itching sensation has returned. All the other teachers are waving goodbye but I cannot overcome the need, and soon I find I must scratch my arse.

Potter and Granger will feel my wrath next year, but for now I think I am going to go and scoot my ass across the dew soaked lawn.

July -

As I have been given the duty of checking up on Harry, I have learned many things about the house where he stays. Mainly, how can his cousin be so FAT? Honestly I have seen fat and that is beyond my comprehension. Maybe it is just me but you would think his parents put him on a diet before he stroked out. Oh well.

Harry's birthday came along, and though I did not expect him to get much, I at least expected him to get some kind of nice gift. It was not so and I - and I will never admit it to another being, ever - felt rather bad. So for Harry, I gave him a wonderful night of entertainment, which was the best I could do.

I do hope he enjoyed watching as his cousin was turned into a real cow and set loose in a pasture just outside of town. Of course I sent his uncle a message - obviously in secret - informing him that it was not Harry who had performed the magic, and that if he did not straighten up his act he would find his entire family growing fur and living their life eating grass with the other givers of milk.

And now, as August comes upon me, I have found myself completing a task for the Dark Lord. My next entry will most likely be in September, with the start of the new school year.

Wish me the best of luck.

Always,
Severus Snape

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End

Reviews welcome. :)