Author's Note: Just a short one-shot which popped into my head as a result of the title.
Pansy didn't get upset very often. It usually took something of extreme magnitude to upset Pansy Parkinson. Like, say for example, a Spattergoit epidemic sweeping the nation. So she was quite unfamiliar with the sensation of being upset. As such, when she found herself upset, she got confused. When she got confused, she got angry and when she got angry, people got hurt. It was, perhaps, unfortunate that this time the person who was going to get hurt was her very own sibling.
Then again maybe not.
Pansy had borrowed a Transfiguration textbook from her little sister Pamela. Not because she'd felt some burning desire to revise Third Year work, but because Third Year textbooks had a much simpler approach to the whole 'Human Transformation' thing and because she didn't have a clue what her own O.W.L. level book was on about. Pam had been more than willing to help and had lent out her textbook freely. This was, in Pansy's estimation, a sign that her twit of a sister really belonged in Hufflepuff rather than in a House famed for it's sneakiness.
All across the textbook there were doodles about 'Professor and Mrs Snape', 'Pamela Snape', 'PP loves SS 4 Ever' and so on and so forth, until Pansy had felt physically nauseas. Hearts, flowers, wedding dresses… all of them had littered the book from cover to cover. It was hideous.
SNAPE! Her little sister, her own flesh and blood, had a crush on Professor Snape. It was enough to make a perfectly cheerful girl go on a killing rampage.
She'd known that Pam had developed this weird fixation with Snape the year before. True, at that time it was just because he was "Brilliant, intelligent and so mysterious". When one added to that Moody's almost constant harassment of the man and their parents never-ending praising, Pam was understandably misled into thinking that Severus Snape was an appropriate person to crush on. After all, anyone an ex-Auror hated and their parents loved was bound to be pretty spectacular. Or at the very least; interesting company.
But Pam had assured Pansy, actually she'd promised Pansy that she was over it. That she was completely over her little Snape fixation. And Pansy had been relieved beyond belief. Who wouldn't be? She loved Professor Snape, she did; he was a brilliant teacher and a first-rate Slytherin. But he was NOT the sort of person that thirteen year old girls were supposed to fall for. It would be downright humiliating if news spread around that Pam had a crush on that greasy, overgrown bat. And Pansy had a reputation to uphold which Pamela was blatantly endangering.
So when she went storming down to Pam's dormitories with the Transfiguration book wielded like a club, Pansy did so with very little forethought. She burst into the Third Year Girl's dormitories expecting to see her sister. She did not expect to see the rather broad forms of Ursula Yaxley and Erin Flint, giggling over a copy of Witch Weekly, with no one else in the room. Both girl's actually looked quite alarmed to see her there.
"Where's Pamela?" Pansy demanded hotly. The girl exchange fearful looks but didn't respond. "Where is she!" she repeated, her voice hardening dangerously.
"Sh-she's in detention." Ursula stammered.
Pansy narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
"She uh… She spilt a potion on Snape. He gave her detention." Erin said.
Pansy let out a low breath, threw the textbook against the wall above her sisters bed and strode into the room. "Tell me how it happened." she ordered, taking a seat at the bottom of Ursula's bed as the textbook clattered onto the stone floor.
"What do you mean?" Ursula asked, inching away from Pansy and towards the relative safety of her own bed.
"I mean, you were there weren't you?" Both girls nodded. "You saw what happened, didn't you?" Another nod. "Well then tell me. Because I wasn't there and I don't know." Pansy enunciated carefully.
After a beat, Erin seemed to be elected to share the details. "Oh. Er… Well it was really weird actually. She's usually so good in Potions, you know? But when Snape came up to her today, Pam added something to her cauldron and the whole thing blew up in his face. She sort of grinned a bit. Embarrassed I guess. And asked him, real nervous like, if she'd be getting a detention." Erin frowned. "And then, it was really weird, because he said no. So come the end of class she walked up to him and… well… I guess it must've been an accident, but it didn't look like one. She spilt her whole phial of potion all over him. And when he turned around and looked at her she just went 'Does THAT get me a detention then Sir?'. With this big silly smile on her face. Like she was proud or something. Really weird."
Pansy had her eyes closed, her fists clenched and an increasingly persistent throb behind her left eye. Her sister, insane though she was, certainly wasn't lacking nerve. That much Pansy was prepared to admit.
With a sudden flurry of movement she got to her feet and stalked out of the room. Behind her Erin and Ursula were calling after her questioningly. She jogged down the stairs into the Common Room. Over by the fireplace she saw Draco and Theodore Nott playing chess while her friends looked on with interest. Tracey Davies waved her over, but Pansy glared and ignored her. Within five seconds she was exiting the common room and marching along dungeon corridors towards the Potions classroom.
She was putting a stop to this. She would not have some perverted little grave-robber as a sister. She wouldn't, she wouldn't, she wouldn't, she wouldn't…
Pansy stuck her head into the Potions classroom and found it empty. All the cauldrons were lined up, all the ingredient meticulously organised and the entire room ready for a class to wander in and start their lesson. But no Pam and no Snape. Unsurprising really.
With a barely restrained growl, Pansy made her way deeper into the dungeons towards Snape's private office. As she approached the door, she heard voices from inside. She slowed down considerably, wishing for about the millionth time that she'd lowered herself to buying one of the Weasleys Extendable-Ear contraptions. As it was, she was reduced to listening at the door like some sort of muggle. Fortunately, however, the entrance to Snape's office was shrouded in shadows, so she was unlikely to be seen. Thank heaven for small mercies…
"Miss Parkinson, would you focus on your work!" Snape growled.
Pansy heard Pam's coy giggle and clicked her jaw in irritation. It was so utterly contrived. "I can't really focus on cleaning cauldrons Professor. It's not very intellectually stimulating." Pam informed him. "Now come on Professor Snape, it's a perfectly simple question."
"Miss Parkinson I am not answering a question of that nature for a thirteen year old student. I'd never hear the end of it." Pansy was annoyed, nay appalled, to hear amusement in his voice. That amoral bastard was flirting with her sister!
"I'm nearly fourteen." Pamela informed him, as though this somehow made all the difference in the world. "Besides, it's not like it's a completely new concept to me, you know. Now come on, how many times?"
"I'm not telling you."
"Oh go on, please?"
"You know you want to."
"No I don't."
"Just tell me how many times. It's not like I'm going to hunt down each and every one of them and tell them that you told me, am I?"
"I don't know, would you?"
"No. I wouldn't."
Snape made a disbelieving noise.
"I wouldn't! You know I wouldn't. Now come on. Please? Pretty Please? Just tell me." There was a pause. "I bet it's lots."
"No seriously, I bet you've done it loads of times. To, like, hundreds of them."
"I am honestly unsure whether to be flattered or insulted by that comment Miss Parkinson. Now get back to work."
"I'm working. See? Work. And thrilling though it is, scrubbing cauldrons I mean, I do still have enough brain power left over to contemplate such things. Oh, and you should be flattered by the way. I think it takes someone of certain calibre to do, well that, so often and not get a… disagreeable reputation."
Pansy could practically feel Snape's smirk. "I'm sure. Is there any particular reason you have decided that this topic of conversation is appropriate for your detention?"
"Not really. It just seemed like the thing to talk about." Pamela put on a cute tone. "It's not as though I haven't thought about it before now."
"You choose some odd things to ponder, Miss Parkinson."
"Hmm. Not so strange, really. Now don't think for a second you've distracted me. Come on, how many? I can't be your first, can I? Not with you being this talented at it."
"Talented?" Snape asked, sounding quite thoroughly baffled.
"Yes. Talented. I could explain in detail if you'd like, but first I'd like to know how many. Because as I said, I doubt I'm your first."
"Well… no. You're not. I'll admit-"
"THAT'S IT!" Pansy slammed open the door and stormed into the room. Her little sister, who was now going by the name Lolita so far as Pansy was concerned, was sitting in a corner next to a pile of filthy cauldrons. Snape was sat behind his desk, where a pile of half-marked homework was left ignored. Both stared at her in surprise.
"Miss Parkinson? Is there something-"
"YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF YOU DERANGED CRADLE-ROBBER!" Pansy screeched, gesturing emphatically at Snape. "She's thirteen! Do you understand that? Thirteen! She's barely hit puberty and you're already jumping on her like a Kodiak bear on a salmon! THIRTEEN! You sick, twisted, perverted, disgusting excuse for a human being! What the hell is wrong with you!"
Snape was staring at her with blank surprise while Pamela hid her face in her hands. Pansy turned to face her. "AND YOU! Just wait until I tell mum and dad about this! You'll be on the train home tomorrow and you're never setting foot out the house again! You morbid, perverse little freak! He's old enough to be your father! I mean honestly. The pair of you should be ashamed of yourselves!"
"Pansy-" Pamela started in a pained voice, still not showing her face.
"AH! I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses. How long has this been going on? How long I ask you? Not that anything you say will make it more acceptable, I just want to know. I want to get all my facts straight when I'm writing home. A teacher and student! Good gods, I don't know where to start! THIRTEEN! Honestly. It's despicable. How could you… I mean you're risking your entire education! AND YOU! This could've cost you your job!" she screamed, turning back to face Snape who was now smirking openly, and apparently trying not to laugh. "Don't you smirk at me, you filthy old bastard! I could get you fired! In fact, if my grandfather hears about this I could probably get you castrated! What do you think about that, you warped little degenerate?"
Snape appeared to bite his tongue, quite literally, as his eyes danced gleefully. He blinked in a deliberate manner and raised his eyes skyward before looking Pansy in the eyes. "Miss Parkinson, am I to assume that you believe I am having inappropriate relations with your little sister?" he asked calmly.
"YES! I DO!" Pansy shrieked. Behind her, Pam groaned as though she were in agony. "You bloody well should be ashamed you little slut! I mean honestly, asking him HOW MANY? What in Salazar's name were you thinking he-"
"Silencio." Pam sighed, waving her wand at Pansy. Pansy, in response, dove immediately for her wand. Pam reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could reach it. "Pansy." she said carefully. "I think you should apologise to Professor Snape, as you just interrupted our very interesting conversation about how many students he's given detention to in his career at Hogwarts."
"How many…?" Pansy attempted to say, but obviously no sound came out. Realisation dawned on her as she looked between the clearly amused Potions Master and her mortified little sister. She raised a shaky finger and pointed between Pam and Professor Snape while sending her sister a questioning look.
Both shook their heads slowly. Pansy cringed and buried her head in her hands, as a flush rose in her cheeks.
There was a moment's awkward silence, where all Pansy could see was the back of her hands and all she could hear was the crackle of the torches on the wall.
"Ahem. I think it's safe to say that your detention is over Miss Parkinson." Snape smoothly informed them, after apparently deeming that Pansy had suffered enough. "Might I recommend that you take your sister back to her common room and ah… tell her to keep her mind out of the gutter in future?"
"Yes Professor. I'm so sorry Professor Snape, she's been under a lot of pressure and-"
"Quite. Good night." Snape interrupted dismissively.
Pam took Pansy's hand and firmly led her out of the room, while Pansy still refused to look up from the stone floor. She couldn't believe… she'd just… she had… Oh god. She might as well just go and throw herself off the Astronomy Tower after this.
She let Pam lead her outside and heard the door close behind her. As soon as the door was closed, Pam undid the silencing spell. Then, without a word, took Pansy's hand again They made it about halfway down the corridor before Pam pulled her aside into a small alcove. "What is wrong with you?" she hissed.
Pansy looked up at her sister apologetically. They were nearly polar opposites really, but nobody seemed to believe that. Where Pansy had got their mother's light colouring and father's skinny build, Pamela had got their father's dark colouring and mother's hourglass figure. And yet she still managed to be taller than Pansy. Their faces were the only resemblance. Both had sharp cheekbones and dark brown eyes, which sort of contrasted strangely with Pansy's blonde hair.
Pamela stood, her long brown hair reaching down to her shoulders and falling in perfectly styled ringlets, her hand on her hip and a look of thunder on her face. Pansy was about to mutter a chagrined apology and beg forgiveness until she paid a bit more attention to her sister. She had on mascara, eye-liner and lip-gloss. She was wearing a black mini-skirt, black knee-high boots and a purple top which showed far too much midriff to be allowable in a school. She suddenly remembered why she'd gone hunting for the insane little freak in the first place.
"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you!" she snapped back, being sure to keep her voice as low as possible in case Snape emerged from his office. "Bloody hell Pammy, who dresses like that for detention?" she asked in exasperation.
"Like what?" Pam asked in faux confusion.
Pansy rolled her eyes and reached out, jabbing her sister's bare stomach with a finger. "Like that you moron. Why aren't you in your robes?"
"You don't have to wear robes after hours." Pam informed her sanctimoniously. "Besides, what does it matter to you how I dress?" she asked.
"It doesn't. It matters to me when you have a crush on Professor Snape of all people. I mean can't you just lust after someone your own age like a normal person?" Pansy asked her hopefully. "I think Blaise Zabini has a cousin in your year, what's wrong with him?"
Pamela rolled her eyes dramatically, an effect greatly enhanced by her eye make-up. "Nick Klein? He's a brain dead idiot who spends more time fixing his hair every morning than I do. THAT is what's wrong with him."
"But…" Pansy groaned. "Why Snape? Why do you have to crush on Snape? Couldn't you get a thing for a Quidditch Player or something? I hear Oliver Wood's really buffed up since he started playing professionally."
Pam glared at her. "He's in Gryffindor." she dismissed.
"But why Snape? Of all people!" Pansy sighed.
Pam got a strange smile on her face. One which worried Pansy to no end. "I don't know. Maybe because he's actually vaguely intelligent? Has some personality? Isn't yet another brain-dead Dumbledore-adorer like all the other teachers in this school?" she seemed to realise the line of thought she was heading down and stopped quickly, sending Pansy a sharp glare. "Anyway, what's it to you who I crush on? Do I have a problem with your sick little crush on Malfoy?"
Pansy gasped in outrage. "There is nothing sick about my crush on-"
"Pfft. There is so." Pam said flatly. "Anyone who can see that skinny, albino, Transylvanian reject as anything but a nuisance is beyond me."
Pansy ground her teeth together, refusing to be distracted. "My point is," she bit out. "That you need to stop this foolishness before Snape finds out. Or worse, everyone else finds out. Which they will. If you don't stop this, I'll tell everyone!" she lied. Pansy would rather jump in the lake than tell anyone about this. "Are going to stop this?"
Pam smirked. "You know what? No. I won't. And you can tell anyone and everyone you want. I'll have as many nasty little thoughts about Severus Snape as I see fit." she tossed her hair over her shoulder and positively beamed.
Though not, Pansy realised, at her. A feeling of dread settled in Pansy's stomach as her sister's gaze landed on a spot just to the left of her shoulder. Pansy turned a bit and was met with the sight of her Head of House, looking rather like a dear caught in wand light.
In fact, she doubt he'd have looked quite so stunned if the spirit of Salazar Slytherin himself had popped up and smacked him with a wet haddock.
His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open and he looked, if possible, paler than ever. Pamela sent him a dazzling smile and batted her eyelashes. 'Psychotic nymphet moron' Pansy thought disparagingly.
"Well hello Professor Snape." Pam said sweetly. She sashayed over to him in a manner no thirteen year old girl should know how to do, stood up on her tip toes and kissed him directly on the lips, lingering for a moment. What she did during that moment, Pansy was happy to say she'd never know thanks to the angle she was sitting at. Though judging by Pam's purring noise, and Snape's incredulous yelp, she doubted it was something she'd find acceptable.
Pam dropped elegantly back onto her feet, the heels of her boots clicking loudly against the stone floor. Snape was watching her with an expression akin to terror. "Goodnight Professor." she cooed, before strutting quite confidently down the hallway in the direction of Slytherin Common Room.
Pansy was to stunned and annoyed to feel even the slightest bit embarrassed by her sister's behaviour. While Pam disappeared around a corner, Snape still hadn't moved inch. Slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes turned towards Pansy, a question in them. So far as she could tell, that question was "Holy mother of God, did that actually just happen or am I having a particularly horrific nightmare?"
She nodded sharply to confirm the reality of the situation. Snape closed his eyes. After a moment Pansy hissed out an angry breath, folded her arms and glared at him. "You see why I had misconceptions now?" she asked him sarcastically. "I mean you see why I didn't approve of that conversation?"
He opened his eyes again and stared at her in disbelief.
With a disgusted sigh Pansy stomped past him going after Pam. "She's just a complete freak. I mean honestly… kissing Snape… right in the hallway." Muttering vehemently she stormed off. leaving a dazed and paralysed Snape (complete with sparkly lip gloss on his lips) in her wake. "I'm going to be in therapy till I'm fifty, I hope she realises this fact. And she's paying for it too! Perverted little lunatic… God knows what I'm going to tell mum and dad. 'Yes mother dear, your youngest daughter happens to behave like Lolita on crack when you're not here, how about that, hmm?' Oh yes, that's sure to go down well. RIGHT IN THE HALLWAY! Urgh. Freak…"