Prologue

I'd never given much thought to what it'd be like to write a prologue that makes no sense. It might feel sort of like standing in a room or like death or blood or something.

1. Sorting

So, just because I'm a witch, I have to go to this dumb wizarding boarding school called Hogwarts. I used to go to a totally awesome American wizarding school in Arizona, but my mom decided to be a selfish bitch and get remarried so now I have to live with my dad in Scotland which means that I have to go to boring old Hogwarts.

Hogwarts isn't like my old school in Arizona. They don't have linoleum tiles in the cafeteria or florescent lighting or asbestos or anything. Just an old moldy castle.

They have this ugly looking hat that sorts everyone into houses based on personality. Since I am a mid-year transfer student, they made me sit in the front of the room all alone while the hat sorted me. Of course, all the boys were staring at me because I was so hot. I glared at them because I am not hot.

"This is most unusual, most unusual," the hat on my perfectly shaped head muttered. "You clearly have magic Ms. Swann." Did I mention that my name is Bella Swann? 'Cause it totally is. "Though your magic is in such a low amount to render you close to a squib. The problem is that you have no personality. Obsessiveness is not a house trait."

I wasn't bothered. Clearly this hat wasn't used to sorting awesome Arizona people like me.

"You could put me in Ravenclaw," I suggested. "I'm not like the other people here, you know. I read books. I have the whole Babysitters Club collection."

"Well, that is certainly interesting, but --"

"Ooh! I know," I said, distracted by something shiny at the Gryffindor table. "Put me in Gryffindor. I like red – it reminds me of blood … and glitter!"

"Gryffindor it is, then!" the hat said. If I didn't know better, I'd think that hat was glad to get rid of me.

2. The Most Beautiful Person Ever

I sat down at the Gryffindor table and met some stupid kids my own age (Did I mention I'm sixteen?). There were a couple of boys, let's call them Harry and Ron. They were both obviously in love with me, but I am so out of their league. There were a couple of girls called Lavender and Parvarti and another girl I like to call Jessica, even though she keeps telling me her name is "Hermione".

They were all so immature. They kept talking about stupid things like their friends and their schoolwork and defeating Voldemort. I grunted at them occasionally and soon became the most popular girl at the table.

Just as I was finishing the disgusting meal that had been placed before me (they didn't even have government cheese!) someone walked into the Great Hall. Someone … else.

How can I describe his incredible beautifulness? He was obviously different from everyone else at the school. His hair had the look of moist, black spaghetti. His skin was like a beautiful, rubbery corpse. His arms were thin, twin matchsticks of love. And his nose! It wasn't disgustingly straight and small like the other noses around me. It was amazing.

"Who's that?" I asked Jessica.

"That?" she asked, frowning slightly, "that's Professor Snape. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. He used to teach Potions."

"Professor Snape," I breathed, breathfully.

3. Abracadabra

I sat had eagerly awaited my lesson in Defense Against the Dark Arts. But it sucked. Instead of staring soulfully into my eyes, Professor Snape was just talking the class about stupid stuff like shield charms and defense against the dark arts and other ridiculous topics. WHY WAS HE IGNORING ME!? Was it something I said? Was I a freak?

He opened his beautiful fish-like lips only to tell the class something stupid about not saying the spell out loud or something. When we got up to practice I had to pair with Harry which sucked. I mean, that kid never knew what to say to my incredible witticisms, clearly proving that he was in love with me.

I pointed my wand at him. "ABRACADABRA!" I shrieked my most impressive spell at him at the top of my lungs. A stream of confetti shot out my wand and covered Harry. Everyone stared at me. Obviously, they had never seen awesome Arizona magic.

Professor Snape swooped down on me like a gorgeous swoopy thing.

"Miss Swann," he said, "Did you not just hear me say that you were to cast your spell silently? And that is certainly not a spell we practice. Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention."

I quivered like a quivery jellyfish. I was going to get to spend time alone with him.

4. Help! I'm Helpless!

For detention, Professor Snape had me organize some files in his office. As soon as he turned his back, I stopped organizing to look at the other cool things someone as beautiful as him undoubtedly owned. I found a tiny glass bottle with a thick black potion in it. It had some kind of dumb labels that said "toxic" and "not for human consumption". I drank it because it reminded me of his awesome spaghetti hair.

I started to feel sick for some reason. "Professor Snape," I said. "I think I'm allergic to this potion. It must be because I'm from Arizona."

He looked around at me and gasped. "You drank that? You idiot!"

I tried to stand up, but my legs had turned into jelly. He picked me up, muttering something about antidotes. "This is so romantic," I said. Then I vomited on him.

5. Sparklepires

I met this boy named Draco Malfoy. For reasons unknown to anyone, especially myself, I like him better than the other kids here. I decided to use all my subtle sexy skills to make him tell me about Professor Snape.

I stuck my breasts out. "What do you know about Professor Snape?" I asked.

"Er …" he said, stepping away, "nothing. People in Slytherin used to joke and say that he was a sparklepire, but --"

Draco went on, but I ignored his idiotic ramblings. He was always trying to get me to do stupid things like "stop talking about Snape" and "give the mysterious package to Dumbledore".

Later, I went to the library and found a book called Google. I looked up sparklepires in Google. I didn't actually read the entry, but taped next to it, was a picture of Professor Snape with glitter glued on it.

"Of course," I said, "It all makes so much sense!"

6. Dazzled

I follow Professor Snape every chance I get now. He takes points off of Gryffindor all the time, but what do I care about stupid Gryffindor? He never gives me detention anymore. It makes me sad.

He took me to his office one day. His office! "Miss Swann," he said, once he had shut the door. "I am about to show you something very disturbing about myself."

"Is it your sparkles?" I asked.

"No. It's --"

"Is it a vat of blood?"

"What? No. Listen --"

"Is it a bag of corn chips?" I like corn chips.

"NO! I think that once you see it, you'll lose your unfortunate attachment to me."

Professor Snape started to unbutton his robes. I was liking where this was going. I was going to get to see his sparkly chest!

He pulled back the folds to reveal himself. It was more glorious than I could ever imagine.

His chest was covered in large, dark pink spots that protruded slightly from his skin. I drew very close and touched one of them and it burst magnificently in my face, squirting me with its clear-white goo. I saw that some of the goo was running down his chest and it glittered in the light. "He really is a sparklepire," I thought, thoughtfully.

"So you see now, that I have a skin condition and I'm really not --" he was saying.

"You dazzle me," I interrupted him. He screamed. I assume in happiness.

7. Why Don't You Love Me?

I was starting to get a wee bit depressed. I was getting the feeling that Professor Snape may not be as much in love with me as I had assumed. Every time he saw me, he turned around and walked in the opposite direction. I kept telling him that we should declare our love to the world, but he kept using phrases like "idiotic Squib", "deranged Gryffindor", and "statutory rape".

I sat in the window seat in my tower at Gryffindor and yelled out to him. "WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME, PROFESSOR SNAPE?!?!?" I screamed. "WHY? WHY? WHY? DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND HOW DEEP MY LOVE FOR YOU IS? DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I'D FLING MYSELF OUT THE WINDOW IF I COULD JUST TOUCH YOUR GLITTERING CHEST ZITS?"

The other girls in my room were groaning, but I ignored their feeble whining.

"He's not in love with you," Jessica said, exasperated. She was just jealous because she was in love with Ron or Harry or someone else and all the boys were in love with me.

"You're actually trying to talk sense into her Hermione?" Parvarti asked Jessica.

"WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?" I continued to cry my pleas out the open window for about an hour or possibly two.

Then, quite suddenly, he came flying out of the dark toward my window. He could fly! Just like a sparklepire may or may not be able to do. He landed on the window ledge. "Listen to me, you insane, idiotic excuse for a teenage witch --" he began.

"Yay! You do love me!" I cried. I flung myself at him and latched my hands around his neck and we both went flying out the window. "Yay! We're flying! This is so romantic."

But we seemed to be flying downward faster and faster. "Get off, get off get off," he was yelling, but I clung tighter and tighter to his wonderful neck until he managed to shake me off and we both fell to the ground in different locations.

"Professor Snape," I said, as I stood shakily and looked around for him. Somehow, I had cut my eyebrow in our downward descent and there was blood on my face. Blood! When Professor Snape saw me a moment later, he sighed and said something about taking me to the infirmary. Of course, I followed him.

Epilogue

So, this morning I put on an evening gown and I followed Professor Snape into the Great Hall for breakfast. I could see that all the girls were jealous of my amazing beauty and all the boys were jealous that I was with Professor Snape and not them. And of course, everyone was impressed that I could come to breakfast with an injured eyebrow.

"Professor Snape," I asked his back as we walked in between the tables. He twitched a bit and turned around as if he didn't even know I was there! "When are you going to make me a sparklepire like you?" I asked.

He turned back around and stalked angrily away. But I know he'll make me a sparklepire someday.

I have decided this is the end, goodbye.