Sour Puss Severus ~ by Snape's Cat

Sour Puss Severus
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It was the end of another school year. Thank Merlin. The notoriously moody Severus Snape slept through the first day of the summer due to lack of proper slumber time while maintaining a castle full of curfew breaking delinquents, but the next day he was rudely awoken by tapping on his window. With a growl and a grumble, he rolled over, trying to stifle the sound, but to no avail. With a gripe and a grumble, he heaved himself out of bed to find the source of the disturbance. Glaring at the blaring light that shone through the window as he pulled up the blinds he found a rather dishevelled looking owl hovering. Snape swore loudly. He knew who this parasite belonged to. He opened the window and the wretched the window open, allowing the creature to tumble in. It landed as a heap of feathers on the floor and extended a gnarly foot.

“I’m going to have to clean that part of my carpet now,” growled Snape as he took the scroll.

Dear Severus Snape, (Snape snorted at the word ‘dear’)

I apologize for disturbing you (‘Disturb’ was an understatement, thought Snape) so early into the summer holiday, but I must make this request. (No, Snape decided spitefully) I am sure you remember my two sons, Fred and George, and despite whatever grudges you may hold against them, I beg you to let them stay at your home for a short period. (HELL NO, Snape thought in rage) Their joke shop business is soaring to amazing heights I myself have never imagined and they’re looking to open another shop at your neck of the woods. I truly think that they might be getting a little in over their heads, but seeing as they are no longer under my control (were they ever?) what I say no longer has any effect upon their decisions. However, as a last favour to me, seeing as I gave birth, fed, cleaned, and cared for them, they are willing to stay with a responsible adult who can keep their heads deflated. You may be wondering why you would be taking both of them, who would be caring for the shop in Diagon Alley? well Lee Jordan, surely you remember him, is their third partner in crime and will stay in London to run sales. I truly hope you will consider this instead of blindly decline, but if you find no room in your manor I’m sure Albus Dumbledore will help my search for a worthy candidate. Thank you so very much.

Signed,

Molly Weasley.

PS I hope you like the treacle fudge.

Snape read this twice and looked on the back, looking for something that said “HA! April Fools!” however, considering it was July, it would not be a very clever April Fools joke. The name Albus Dumbledore stood out lividly in the letter. The woman was not implying that the headmaster would help her find a “worthy candidate” but was subtly threatening him, Severus Snape, with the power of Dumbledore’s persuasion. He glowered at the owl, as if it was entirely his fault that this woman has been inhaling too much doxicide. He strode across the bedroom (still clad in his greying underpants and night shirt) too pull out a quill and parchment.

Weasley- Alpha Female – I will give you the benefit of a doubt that you are some sort of Death Eater trying to trick me in one way or another and will not take this note of yours seriously. However, if this “Molly” character is your true identity, I will have you know that you really ought to stay away from the house hold cleaners seeing as they are tampering with your brain, surely you have enough children left at home to do the cleaning for you.. – S. Snape.

PS I am testing this fudge of yours for traces of poison and will not rest until I find the foreign substance that you are so obviously trying to taint me with even if I have to put it in myself.

Severus hastily rolled up the scroll and magically tied it to the owl’s leg (he didn’t want to get cooties, see) and sent the owl on its way. He then, exhaustion being gone, dragged his feet to his sitting room and demanded coffee of his house elf and flicked through last week’s edition of Weekly Poisons, Venoms, and Toxins.

The next week came with a new issue of our dear Snape’s favourite magazine and a visit from the twins themselves. Apparently Snape’s declination of allowing these delinquents in his home was taken as an approval from the Mother Weasley and the duo Apparated in his living room as he was enjoying his sugarless coffee and read. With a loud zing! two identical boys were standing on Snape’s coffee table, causing him to jump back in his pleather chair and spill the said coffee all over himself.

“MERLIN ON CRACK! WHAT THE—What the bloody hell are you doing here?!” Snape demanded. This was too much to take in so early in the morning.

“Mum said that you wouldn’t let us stay here, so we came to coax you into saying yes,” one of them said.

“I don’t care what you have to say, the answer is no! Now get out! You’re polluting my oxygen!” Snape said coldly, charming his sopping bathrobe to be clean of the scorching hot coffee.

“Oh, come on now, Sev—“ Snape winced “—I’m sure you can warm up to us –“

“--Once you get to know us,” they said. Snape glared.

“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice dripping with irritation.

“What?”

“We aren’t –“

“Doing anything –“

“Yet.” The one on the left grinned and winked.

“Get out,” Snape repeated.

“Wait, you haven’t heard our argument! Don’t be a sour puss!”

“Hey, that’s a great name for a treat…”

“That is. How bout it, Snape? We’ll name a sweet after you if you let us stay,” the one on the right said.

“I want nothing to do with your plots to quicken my nervous breakdown, as if teaching hooligans trying to replace you isn’t difficult enough. Now leave.”

“Hm… How about we pay you?”

“No amount of money will make me see the light side of allowing your body soil into my home,” Snape said, crossing his arms stubbornly. “Now get off my coffee table, or I shall make you do so by force.” He reached in his pocket for his wand, but alas, it was not there. He swore to himself. The one morning when he leaves it at his bedside table. The twins sensed the emptiness behind his threat and sat on the table instead.

“How about… Fifty percent of the royalties from the Sour Puss candies?” The one on the left offered.

“No.”

“Sixty?”

“No.”

“Seventy?”

“No.” He was getting very irritated with the sight of their freckled faces.

“Seventy-five.”

“NO.” The two exchanged looks and then nodded.

“All right, all right. Since it was your name and all, we’ll give you all the royalties from the Snape Sour Puss sweets and we’ll put an anti- Severus Snape trickery spell on them.” Snape narrowed his eyes threateningly. “And… and we’ll make sure that you are not in fact our source of inspiration on this little sugar coated ploy. Eh? Eh?” Snape was very tempted to throw the both of them out, but it could help him with an early retirement. With a very cruel glare he grudgingly accepted.

“Fine,” he mumbled.

“What was that?” the one on the right inquired. He gave them a look of venom. The two of them grinned and looked at each other in surprise.

“Excellent!”

“But! Before you ruin my home, there will be rules, very strict ones, that if they are harmed in any way you will be bodily thrown out of this home, got it?” They nodded. “Rule one: There will be no ‘partying’ in my manor. Rule two: There will be no drinking in my manor, unless it is my own and if it is it will not be questioned. It is very likely that this foolish decision of mine will make me a raving alcoholic. Rule three: You do not question me. If I tell you to do something, you will do it. If I do something, you will not question it. Rule four: You clean up your own mess. My house elf will not worry itself with your slop. And rule five, and perhaps the most important: If I see any of your trickery lingering about my manor where I can fall a victim to it, it will be burnt. I am not your guinea pig, understand? The punishment for making me your guinea pig will be that I can make you mine.” The twins nodded.

“What is your house elf’s name, if I may ask?” the one on the left asked.

“Name?” Snape blinked blankly. “Oh, yes. It has a name. Uh…” he took a second to remember. “Birdie, I think. Something like that. But that’s not important.”

“And where will our room be?” the one on the right inquired. Snape glared at him. Abruptly, he stood up and led them through his manor to give them a tour.

“This is the kitchenette where one can search for something to snack upon. You will not trouble Ducky –“

“I thought the elf’s name was Birdie?”

“Do not interrupt me. You will not trouble Birdie with simple needs as a snack. Birdie does not cook often for I rarely ask for such meals. However, I only allow you the luxury of a cooked meal because Parrot often harasses me for not asking for full on feasts. Through that door is the proper kitchen where only Pigeon and her family are allowed. Up these stairs is the West Wing where there is my room and my loos and whatnot. You will not go up there. This way is to the library. You will not befoul it in any way, shape, or form. This way is to my laboratory where you will not be allowed under any circumstances –“

“Is there anywhere we are allowed?” one of them asked dryly.

“Yes. The lounge, kitchenette, and if I’m feeling charitable, the loo. And you may prowl through my property in the outside world to your heart’s delight except for the small greenhouse. However, if you must go in there, I won’t go after you because it is quite likely that you will not survive the trip.” He smirked. “The East Wing. You may lurk in there.”

“Thanks a lot Sev!” Fred said bravely.

“Rule number 6!” Snape bellowed. “Calling me anything other than Professor –“

“But you aren’t our professor anymore, so why ought we call you that?” George said logically. A tick was going off in Snape’s jaw as he glared at the two.

“The foul, horrible, tasteless word ‘Sev’ being used to address or refer to me is punishable by death,” he said in a deadly whisper. “I do not like being called ‘Sev’.”

“Never would have figured that out,” Fred mumbled. George chuckled.

“This is not a laughing matter,” Snape said, sounding so very threatening that the twins grudgingly nodded. “Good. Now disperse.”

With another zing! the twins Disapparated and Apparated to the East Wing with their luggage. The exchanged triumphant grins and unpacked.

~*~

Part of the agreement for the Weasley twins living in Snape’s manor was that they wore name-tags. He had no wish to figure out which was which and fashioned them new names. A and B. Despite their cries of dissent, they new not to press the point because their host was very capable of making Birdie poison their meals. They already got on the wrong side of Snape one morning and since there were no school rules and regulations to bind him, they found out exactly how true his threats of poison were when their tea cups had powdered bubotuber pus on the handle. They spent the day fuming as Birdie gave apologies while bandaging their hands.

However, living with the Potions Master did give them some benefits. Occasionally Snape overheard them discussing why their latest attempts at a sweet wasn’t getting their expected results he’d explain it their idiocy. Of course, he scolded them for not realising that Moon Calf dung and Knarl spines placed in a concentrate of doxy venom won’t cause hallucinations but will only temporarily blind the left eye of an ambidextrous hermaphrodite, but he did tell them how to cause a temporary hallucinogenic for those of all genders and hands. And he supplied them with ingredients when he overheard them wondering aloud where they could get a particularly rare object.

“I do hope that you are working particularly hard on the treat that I’m getting the royalties out of. Because if you’re going to make it something weak just so you can cheap me out of a bill you’ve got something else coming,” he said as they were talking about magical umbrellas and munching upon fried cheese wedges Birdie treated them with.

“Of course, Sev...erus,” A said.

“How many times have I told you not to do that?!” he hissed.

“Exactly forty two times,” B informed him.

“Anyhow, we’ve decided to call the ‘Sour Puss Chews’. They are in the chewable candies shape of cats, they are lemon flavoured, and they make the consumer do the feeder’s orders for exactly fifteen minutes. Nothing illegal or particularly painful, mind you. They’re modelled after your likeness.”

Snape sniffed at them and continued with his latest issue of Weekly Poisons, Venoms, and Toxins.

“Ohhhh, Seeeeevvvv… errrruuussss!” A taunted him with. B held the first can of the completed Sour Puss Chews.

“What?” Snape demanded. He was not in the mood to jest. It was three o’clock in the morning and he just came back from a particularly foul assignment from Voldemort. He was sporting a gash along his temple that Birdie was cleaning. A and B stopped.

“Erm… What happened to you?” B asked quietly.

“I have work to do outside of Hogwarts I’m sure you know,” he hissed.

“Was it a Death Eater job?” A asked hesitantly. Snape’s eyes flashed.

“Yes,” he said, barely audible.

“Oh…” A said. “Were you successful?” Severus gave a quick intake of breath as Birdie jabbed his gash with a medicinal wash cloth.

“Unfortunately,” he said curtly. The twins knew that whatever he had to do wasn’t a pleasant or merciful task. “What do you want at three o’clock in the morning?”

“We just wanted to tell you that the Sour Puss Chews were finished.”

“I don’t give a damn. Go to bed!” Snape spat. The twins knew too well not to argue and did so.

The next morning, A and B crept down stairs tentatively.

“Master Snape has told me to tell you that he will not be in the rest of the manor today. He wishes to stay in his West Wing,” Birdie squeaked.

“Why is he locking himself away?” A inquired.

“Because, Mr. Fred, this is what he does when he commits a Dark deed. I am sure you will know what he had to do when you read the Daily Prophet.”

B picked up the Daily Prophet and read the front page.

MUGGLE MASSACRE

Dark Mark Hovers Over Third Mass Muggle Murder of the Year

“He must have been a part of it,” B said to A, showing him the paper. A scowled thoughtfully.

“We should go see him,” A said.

“Are you mad? He said no going to his West Wing!” B said. Birdie watched the exchange with apprehension in her round blue eyes.

“Come off it. He’s going to be up there brooding and sulking. It’s the least we can do.”

“Fred, he’s going to kick us out and we’ve only signed the contract on our premises. We still need to make sure we have it decorated and get employees and fill it up and everything. If we tick him off before all of that is done, where are we going to stay until we know that the building is up to code?” A sighed.

“Fine. But, let’s at least make sure we got the Sour Puss Chews are perfected. Hey, Birdie. You want to help us out some?” Birdie looked at them suspiciously.

“Nah. It won’t work on you, you’re a house elf. You’ll do what we ask any way. Hm… We need someone to test this on. Hey, we can test it on Snape…” A said slyly.

“And risk being poisoned again? I think not!” B said in indignation. A grimaced in thought.

“We can go out in public and ask someone to test one…”

“No one’s going to be thick enough to take candy from a pair of kids like us,” B said.

“We’re eighteen!”

“No one’s going to be thick enough to take candy from a pair of legal adults like us,” B amended.

“Well, we might as well try. C’mon.” B sighed.

“Fine, fine. Birdie, if Severus asks where we are tell him we’re not back at London quite yet,” B told her.

“Mister George, I don’t think that Master Snape will come down with such inquiries,” Birdie said sadly, her ears drooping slightly. The two shrugged and Disapparated with a zing! and Apparated at a playground.

“Where will we find wizards who are willing to take one?” B asked. A shrugged.

“Find one that’s dressed weird.” Their eyes fell on a pair of men wearing matching uniforms wearing great big sunglasses perched upon horses.

“There are two,” B said. The duo strode up to the officers.

“All right, good sirs?” they said in unison.

“Can we help you?” one of them said, eyeing A’s dragon skin jacket.

“Oh, no. We were just going to offer you a sweet. It’s brand new and … er…” A tried to think of a quick lie to make it sound like something believable.

“And we’re taking them out to the general public to make sure that good people will like them before they go on sale,” B finished. The grinned identically. The Muggle Officers peered down at them through their sunglasses.

“All right, I’ll have a taste. How ‘bout you Phil?” the podgy one said on the brown horse. Bill shrugged and they each took a Sour Puss Chew.

“Urhm… Now count to five in Spanish, Phil,” A instructed.

“Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco,” Phil said.

“Now, throw your hats three times in the air, the both of you,” B commanded. They did just that. They continued to give them orders for exactly fifteen minutes when the chews wore off. They then ran behind a tree when the officers started shouting angrily and Disapparated. They then realized that those funny dressed blokes weren’t wizards in disguise but those fishy muggle ‘please-ems’ that they’ve heard about. They knew they were going to get a letter from their dad about this. With attitudes of delight for their success swarming in the both of their identical faces, they Apparated back at Snape’s manor and set the can of candies on the coffee table and darted back to the East Wing to make a fresh batch. The two spent the rest of the day thinking of advertising and label designs, sending owls back and forth to London to Lee Jordan about their success and creativity ideas. It was early the next day when they slinked down stairs with hopes of food when they found Snape back on his couch reading a very heavy looking book with no title and sipping a bottle of fire whiskey.

“Is it safe to speak to him?” A whispered loudly to B.

“I dunno. Maybe if he talks to us we’ll know,” B said just as loudly.

“Do you want something?” Snape growled with a slight slur.

“No, nothing at all. Would you like a Sour Puss Chew?” A offered.

“Get that rubbish away from me,” Snape spat.

“No need to get testy. After all, this is your pet here. You didn’t think it rubbish when we offered you the royalties,” B said in light defence.

Perhaps it was because that was his second bottle of fire whiskey or maybe because he was too tired to care what he was doing, what possessed him to do it, the world may never know, but he took a Sour Puss Chew, much to the twins’ and Birdie’s surprise. He chewed it slowly, glaring at them with his bleary eyes from so much alcohol consumption. Then he swallowed it. Snape sat there, his eyebrow arched expectantly.

““We forgot to put the anti Snape charm on them!” B said in sudden realization. They paused in thought of the situation. “Erm… Should we make him do anything?” B asked fearfully.

“Er… I dunno. I didn’t expect him to actually take it… Uh…”

“Well, let’s not ask him to do anything terrible. I mean, he’s supposedly an excellent Occlumens and I don’t think the magic in these are quite strong enough to penetrate through whatever he does to practice Occlumency.”

“I’m sure since he’s completely plastered his Occlumency is a little weak. Uhm…” They watched Snape sit there with slight terror.

“Er… Do the hula…” A said in a small voice. Snape slowly stood up and did just that. A and B stared in shock as he swayed his hips (they could have sworn that Birdie was humming Aloha—oy!) for a good ten minutes until they realized that they could make him do something else.

“Now… Uhm… pick up that Daily Prophet and put it on the coffee table,” B said. He did just that. They exchanged looks.

“Take off your socks… Urgh! Put them back on!” Snape came back to reality as he was putting his left sock back on. He blinked. He slowly turned to the twins.

“Before you make us sample some sort of vile potion of yours make sure you know that you took the candy on your own accord!” A said quickly. He stood up and went back to the West Wing. The two let out long breaths.

That night, Snape was in the lounge again, eating an orange and nursing a hang over potion. He saw A and B.

“Don’t you lot have a shop to run?” he inquired dryly.

“We were just picking out colours for the walls when you were napping. We mostly have to make everything so we can have things to put on the shelves,” B said smartly.

“Ah. Out of curiosity, I’m sure I’m giving you more credit than you actually deserve in raison d'être, but how are those ridiculous, and I’m sure illegal, candies of yours related to me aside from your bad choice of mockery when you called me a ‘sour puss’?” Snape asked smoothly.

“Oh. Well, you know that we never were your biggest fan during school and we were always suspicious of your loyalties when we found out you were part of the Order. But, during our last year at school and that hag known as Umbridge was running the place, we overheard you and McGonagall discussing –“ Snape made a derisive sound. “Okay, we used our Extendable Ears, but that’s beside the point. Anyhoot, we heard the two of you and you were going on about how much you dreaded sucking up to Umbridge because of the appearance you had to keep. And that made us realize, though we still didn’t dislike you any less, that you did in fact have some sort of soul… somewhere.” Snape snorted.

“And so, much to our dismay, we came to respect you to some extent (of course we kept this a secret so we could harass Hermione about how evil you are) and while we were thinking of what to make Sour Puss Chews do we came up with a brilliant idea! It’s quite symbolic and has more thought in it than any of our other ingenious inventions. Though Sour Puss Chews do have the Imperius Curse on them, we managed to figure out a way to lighten it so doing anything illegal and harmful is impossible. We worked it so much that it’s not even the Imperius Curse anymore, so we can’t get arrested for selling it.”

“You realize you will have to burn the recipe in case a Death Eater finds it and decides to make it into something that they can feed someone with and make them do something that is illegal and harmful?” Snape said, hoping to Merlin that they figured out that loophole on their own.

“Yes, yes. Keep your hair on. Anyway. Back to the symbolism. With the acknowledgement of your loyalty to Dumbledore and yet your foulness to keep that silly little mask on to keep the Death Eaters and all them convinced that you’re loyal to them, our use of an Unforgivable on the candies is like when you do something foul, but it’s really only to make something good.” A and B grinned innocently at their cleverness. Snape stared at them.

“You’re both idiots,” Snape said, turning back to his orange.

“Maybe so, but we mean well,” B said.

“Since we’re so kind and loving, will you learn our names?” A asked hopefully, scratching his nametag irritably.

“I’ll think about it. Now get rid of those candies before I burn them.”

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