Miss Snape?
Apr. 20th, 2004 09:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sureiSome time ago, I mentioned having an idea for Snape vs. Jusenkyo. Here it is.
Professor Snape could not read Chinese. That did not deter him from ordering the occasional ingredient from China. He figured he could always have the symbols translated into some other language he did understand – English, Latin, French, Spanish, German, or Greek, whichever worked best. However, there was one potion he wanted to make whose main ingredient could not be touched by magic in any way beforehand. He’d had to have it shipped the muggle way, handled predominantly by muggle workers, and finally it had arrived, some three weeks later. It was a small packet with – of course – Chinese writing on it. It looked a little dusty, and there was something that felt off about it, but he shrugged it off.
On a whim, he had called his two best students, Malfoy and Granger, in to help him – mostly for demonstrative purposes. They weren’t required to do much other than continue stirring while he tended to other ingredients and to watch what he did and what happened.
There was, surprisingly, little to no tension between them. Hmmm, they must have become reconciled to each other recently. No matter.
The permanence part to the potion had already been made – it was designed to counter long-lasting and permanent curses of a particular type – and the last thing to do was to add the powder from China, stir until it dissolved, and then sit and let it cool and settle. Snape had been surprised at the rather lax instructions the first time he made it, but it worked well enough.
They followed the instructions, and were just about to start ladling it into beakers when (in accordance with whatever law that states that in stories such as these, the potion must be spilled) a sobbing second-year burst into the room, tried to fling himself either at or behind the professor, and wound up overturning the cauldron on him and his assistants instead.
“Pro-professor?” the student stammered.
“Fifty points from Slytherin, and a detention with Mr. Filch,” Snape snapped. “Get out.”
When the student continued to stare instead of obeying, Snape looked down at himself and froze.
It was Malfoy who screamed.
Granger, surprisingly, took it best of all. She blinked, gawped for a moment, and looked as if she were trying to reason something out, then shook her head and transfigured her clothing to something more suitable – specifically, male – before getting up and going over to the wall and proceeding to bang his head against it.
Malfoy was still staring at her chest, which now sported a very nice pair of breasts.
So did Snape’s own, as a matter of fact, and he – she – felt at least twenty years younger. Just what had happened?
Around about the time that Malfoy accepted that she’d been transformed completely into a girl, Granger, who had stopped banging his head on the wall and had heated some water in another cauldron, came over with the afore-mentioned hot water and dumped it over Snape. Suddenly he was himself again.
“And another fifteen for disobeying orders and staring,” he growled. “Get out!”
Finally, the student scampered.
Now we make it more interesting.
“It is a curse,” Hermione explained as calmly as she could. “It gives you a temporary sex change until you are splashed with hot water. However, cold triggers it all over again.”
“How do you know this?” Snape, who for some reason had decided to remain female for the moment, asked irritably.
“It’s since been proved – for me, at least – but I guessed… um…”
“Do tell.” Ooh, silky, menacing voice. Female Snape would make a great dominatrix.
“Well, you see, there’s this Japanese story about something similar that happened to a guy passing through China,” she said hurriedly. “It’s called Ranma 1/2, and I figured I might as well try and see if what worked for him worked for us. And it does.”
“I’ve heard of that story,” Malfoy said unexpectedly. “But I thought he fell into the spring of drowned girl, not the spring of drowned sex change.”
“He did.” Hermione gnawed at her bottom lip. “That’s what I don’t understand.”
“That is immaterial at this point. More important is the question of what we are going to do about it. I have already asked the headmaster – he should be here shortly.”
At which point, I lost my steam.
Should I try to continue this?
Professor Snape could not read Chinese. That did not deter him from ordering the occasional ingredient from China. He figured he could always have the symbols translated into some other language he did understand – English, Latin, French, Spanish, German, or Greek, whichever worked best. However, there was one potion he wanted to make whose main ingredient could not be touched by magic in any way beforehand. He’d had to have it shipped the muggle way, handled predominantly by muggle workers, and finally it had arrived, some three weeks later. It was a small packet with – of course – Chinese writing on it. It looked a little dusty, and there was something that felt off about it, but he shrugged it off.
On a whim, he had called his two best students, Malfoy and Granger, in to help him – mostly for demonstrative purposes. They weren’t required to do much other than continue stirring while he tended to other ingredients and to watch what he did and what happened.
There was, surprisingly, little to no tension between them. Hmmm, they must have become reconciled to each other recently. No matter.
The permanence part to the potion had already been made – it was designed to counter long-lasting and permanent curses of a particular type – and the last thing to do was to add the powder from China, stir until it dissolved, and then sit and let it cool and settle. Snape had been surprised at the rather lax instructions the first time he made it, but it worked well enough.
They followed the instructions, and were just about to start ladling it into beakers when (in accordance with whatever law that states that in stories such as these, the potion must be spilled) a sobbing second-year burst into the room, tried to fling himself either at or behind the professor, and wound up overturning the cauldron on him and his assistants instead.
“Pro-professor?” the student stammered.
“Fifty points from Slytherin, and a detention with Mr. Filch,” Snape snapped. “Get out.”
When the student continued to stare instead of obeying, Snape looked down at himself and froze.
It was Malfoy who screamed.
Granger, surprisingly, took it best of all. She blinked, gawped for a moment, and looked as if she were trying to reason something out, then shook her head and transfigured her clothing to something more suitable – specifically, male – before getting up and going over to the wall and proceeding to bang his head against it.
Malfoy was still staring at her chest, which now sported a very nice pair of breasts.
So did Snape’s own, as a matter of fact, and he – she – felt at least twenty years younger. Just what had happened?
Around about the time that Malfoy accepted that she’d been transformed completely into a girl, Granger, who had stopped banging his head on the wall and had heated some water in another cauldron, came over with the afore-mentioned hot water and dumped it over Snape. Suddenly he was himself again.
“And another fifteen for disobeying orders and staring,” he growled. “Get out!”
Finally, the student scampered.
Now we make it more interesting.
“It is a curse,” Hermione explained as calmly as she could. “It gives you a temporary sex change until you are splashed with hot water. However, cold triggers it all over again.”
“How do you know this?” Snape, who for some reason had decided to remain female for the moment, asked irritably.
“It’s since been proved – for me, at least – but I guessed… um…”
“Do tell.” Ooh, silky, menacing voice. Female Snape would make a great dominatrix.
“Well, you see, there’s this Japanese story about something similar that happened to a guy passing through China,” she said hurriedly. “It’s called Ranma 1/2, and I figured I might as well try and see if what worked for him worked for us. And it does.”
“I’ve heard of that story,” Malfoy said unexpectedly. “But I thought he fell into the spring of drowned girl, not the spring of drowned sex change.”
“He did.” Hermione gnawed at her bottom lip. “That’s what I don’t understand.”
“That is immaterial at this point. More important is the question of what we are going to do about it. I have already asked the headmaster – he should be here shortly.”
At which point, I lost my steam.
Should I try to continue this?