Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, and neither does Snape's atrocious dress sense…
Snape looked at the clock on the wall of the dungeons, managing to see through the years of dust and grime with practised ease. It's time…
He hastily rose from his seat in the classroom and abruptly made for his office, not even glancing at the student teacher marking a first year's atrocious work. But she was used to it. Shrugging, she went back to marking the essay, moving her slightly bushy hair out of the way.
He grinned as he closed the door, moving towards the old wooden chest before he even heard the door click.
Severus had 'borrowed' the chest from mad eye moody, or whoever the hell he was by the end of that year. No one had noticed, he didn't care – it was fine. He was currently searching in his voluminous robes for those damned keys, found them, and began frantically opening the chest.
And there it was.
Smiling slyly, he took out the deep green dress and draped it over himself as he looked into the mirror like he did every second Tuesday of the month. Most men had Playwizard under their mattress; a kinky whore on the side, Severus Snape had…Severita.
He did, of course, realise the true ridiculousness of his 'hobby' as it were, but Dumbledore had given him much leeway after Voldemort's downfall. He decided just to let Severus get on with his life – such as it was, having given up trying to set the young man up years ago.
Severus grimaced at an image from his memory: Dumbledore's shocked face encompassed the fire place, spluttering out whatever his message was, before hurriedly disappearing again, quicker than Severus could get the damn bra strap off. They had never spoken of it again. Understandably.
Trying to forget, Severus placed a privacy charm over the fireplace to prevent such 'misunderstandings' again, and set about getting dressed. He took off his normally placid black robes and underwear, replacing them instead with a few racy numbers ordered by owl under a pseudonym. How complicated this lark was.
"Professor, I was just wondering what the grade boundaries are for-"
She stared wide-eyed at her Professor…
…who was currently applying ruby-red lipstick – a garishly wrong colour for his skin tone, but that wasn't the point – to his lips whilst wearing a dark green dress and black elbow-gloves.
Oh Dear God.
"Never-never mind…" Hermione moved quickly out of the room and out towards the dungeons, having dismissed the detention students moments earlier. Suddenly, she came back to reality and began to laugh hysterically.
She came to her rooms, stated the password, and found a curious-looking Crookshanks staring at her. "It wasn't really the dress though, it was the look on his face!" She may have said more, but it was difficult to tell at this point, as she was currently laughing so hard she thought she was going to be sick. "Wait until I tell Harry and Ron…"
A/N: Chapter one complete…any good? Should I continue or leave this as a one-shot ficlet? Read and review please!