Hey! Don't like this one quite as much as the others. But oh well... Review for me.
Snape leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He really hated Career Day. Every year it was always the same. His ambitious Slytherins would take a seat opposite him and claim they wanted to be a Troll Wrestler or a photographer for PlayWizard. Snape snorted and took a deep breath. He still had two more hours of counseling left and it wouldn't do to have a mental break-down so early on.
Just as Snape was returning his whiskey filled flask to his desk Miss Pansy Parkinson wandered into his office and plopped down on the chair.
"Have a seat," Snape said dryly and, with another deep breath, pulled out a small stack of pamphlets. "Society wife." Snape passed the pamphlet across the desk. "Charity Organizer." He passed that one too. "Etiquette Instructor." He added that one to the pile. "Last and least," Snape snapped the pamphlet across the desk, "Bake-sale Head."
Pansy bit her bottom lip and tapped each pamphlet with a finger before snatching up the whole batch and throwing them behind her. "I already know what I'm going to be."
Snape's eye began to twitch again. "And what is that Miss Parkinson?"
"I'm going to be the next Madonna," Pansy said smugly. "I already have slutty schoolgirl uniform and it's not hard to cast a voice enhancement spell like she did."
"Miss Parkinson..."
"No Snape," Pansy held up her perfectly manicured hand. "I already have a stage name and bought as many cone shaped bras as possible. Plus, I already have a fan base. I mean, firsties pay high dollar for my late-night concerts in the Common Room. And I've had a show in Hufflepuff. Second years showed up. I'm already climbing the ladder to superstardom. It's only a matter of time before I'm shaking my ass Shakira style in front of a million screaming fans on MTV."
"Miss Parkinson," Snape said again. "I highly doubt your parents would be happy if you gave up the chance to ally yourself with a wealthy Pureblood family..."
"Look Snape," Pansy said through gritted teeth, "I'm going to become the next Madonna. I will have millions of screaming fans willing to pay thousands for a piece of leftover toast and I won't have to ally myself with a wealthy Pureblood family because I will have all of the most eligible men in the world bowing at my feet. Oh yes, I will."
Snape pushed his chair a bit farther away from the desk and said, after clearing his voice a few times, "Ah, Pansy... You have realized that you'd have to, um, be in contact with muggles and muggle-borns?"
"No I won't," Pansy said icily. "As if I would ever touch a mudblood."
"Well then how do plan to..."
"Magic," Pansy said and rolled her eyes. "I am a witch Snape."
"Miss Parkinson," Snape said, his eye twitching. "I think you should take a look at the pamphlets. You seem to be perfect for that etiquette..."
"Listen you..." Pansy swiftly stood and glared down at Snape, who was cowering in his chair. "I want to become a Pop Star and no one will stand in my way. Draco will design my clothes, Blaise will do many cameos in my videos, and Millicent will be my backup dancer. Then, when I've been on the top for twenty or so years I'll make a stupid movie that completely flops, marry the director, who will be at least fifteen years my junior, and plan farewell tour after farewell tour. I will then buy a castle out in the country and speak with a fake English accent..."
Pansy and Snape looked at each other for a moment.
"...Or maybe I'll get an American accent," Pansy pondered. She shook her head and continued her glare. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I have already made my decision and will only wear cone shaped bras on Mondays, black leather on Tuesdays, wedding dresses on Wednesdays, spandex leotards on Thursdays, and full pimp regalia on Fridays. Weekends will be reserved for my random Britney Spears attacks in which only red body suits or skanky schoolgirl uniforms will be allowed." Pansy's eyes narrowed. "And if anyone, and I mean anyone, tells me any different I shall go Papa Don't Preach on their ass. Got it?"
Snape, who more horrified than terrified, nodded his head vigorously.
"Thanks Snape," Pansy said cheerfully, smoothing her skirt. "That really helped."
When the door shut behind her a few moments later, the only thing to be heard was Snape's head repeatedly whacking against his desk.