A/N: So in Ceramics class today, my teacher was demonstrating how to work clay on a potter's wheel. A class later, I turned to my friend and said, "I just had an image of Snape working with a potter's wheel." We laughed, etc. etc., and thus... here you go x3. Please review. This takes place during Harry's fifth year, although Harry isn't present because I hate him.
For reference: Potter is as in Harry and James, potter is an artistic sense.

Warning: This is purely me making fun of Snape, and should definitely not be taken siriusly. Snape fangirls, scurry away! Aah!

Disclaimer: I own a few things I made in Ceramics but not Harry Potter....

Snape's Secret

Severus Snape was a man of many descriptions. He could be called emotional, brave, or cowardly, by Harry. One could even go as far as to say he was an artist. Er, a potion artist. But he had a secret. A secret he had always tried very hard to keep from everyone, even Dumbledore...even Lily.

Severus Snape...loved pottery.

It had been a longing, a desire of his to go off into the Muggle world, embrace his half-blood-ness, and become a real Muggle clay artist. Unfortunately, this would have required him to call himself a 'potter,' which anyone who had met him would know he would rather die than do. Naturally, with the person he most despised back from the old Hogwarts days bearing that last name, he would never allow himself the shame.

So, instead of venturing into the wonderful land of Oz – er, pottery, he decided instead to become a Death Eater. How creative, Snape. Of course, when Dumbledore had offered him job as a Potions teacher he had almost said, "Only if I get to work out of a clay cauldron –" but he caught himself and asked for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position instead. He figured if he went into Defense Against the Dark Arts, he could forget his desire to be a master of pottery, but no....

At this point Snape would like to stress: he hates anyone with the last name Potter.

Unfortunately for the little Slytherin graduate, he didn't own a potter's wheel. It had been hard enough trying to find one, since every time he said the word 'potter' he spat it with much malice. His house did not have electricity, him being a wizard, and therefore he could not purchase a Muggle one, and very few wizards and witches had any interest in pottery....

But there was one. There was one renowned magic-powered potter's wheel that belonged to one certain ancient family that dated back centuries. Oh how he longed to use this potter's wheel, just once, and make the most beautiful pot that he could pour his soul into.... If only he could make a simple vessel that he would keep always in memory of his lifelong desire to be a clay master.... If he did, he would willingly accept that he just could not go into the profession which he so desired.... If only the potter's wheel wasn't owned by Sirius Black.

Black. Another name he hated. Another reason why he didn't go into blacksmithing when he couldn't be a potter– er, pottery master.

His past inquires of master wizard potters had told him that Walburga Black had in her youth been a great potter. Funny, because Muggles had invented pottery.... But then, if he could have his secret ambition, so could she. Point was, it was sitting abandoned in Grimmauld Place's drawing room, ignored by Sirius who had quite different emotional thoughts when he thought of the words 'Potter' or 'pottery.'

One night in mid- to late January, after a heated discussion of the Order, Snape had a huge and hopefully would-be successful plan to break into the drawing room to have just twenty minutes to make a gorgeous clay cauldron that he could use for his most important potions. When the meeting was over, he proceeded with the plan after seeing Sirius and Remus in conversation at the table, taking absolutely no notice of him.

He used his mystical Death Eater skills to break into the room (although it would have been easier just to open the door and walk in completely normally) and laid his eyes on...it.

It was so beautiful... even with the occasional spider scurrying around on its webs constructed on the wheel, it was a piece of unmistakable treasure. He hurried over and slabbed his clay – which he had taken from his unlimited clay stock in his closet – down. Quickly but steadily, he began to work his art.

The clay worked so easily through his fingers; after all, he was a professional, even if no one knew it. He worked in designs, removed small pieces of excess, unneeded clay, he was so close to being finished....

"Snape?!"

Snape stood up immediately, backed away dramatically from the potter's wheel, and found himself face to face with two of the people he hated most. Black and Lupin.

He quickly put on his normal, masked up, emotionless appearance, although he was half-begging himself to proclaim, even to these two, his irresistible desire to be a potter – er, pottery master. "This is not what it looks like."

"Oh really," Sirius said, swaggering forward the way he used to when he looked... un-Azkaban-ish. "'Cause to me, it looks like you're working with my mother's old potter's wheel. Merlin knows why she even had one...."

"Because pottery is an art you could never understand the beauty of, Black!" Snape hissed. "Not that you really understand anything."

"If this is what made you forget all your clever comebacks, then hah to you, Snivelly!"

Remus was onlooking with a look of masked amusement, like he knew he shouldn't laugh but it was nice to see reminders of the old days.

"How dare you...mocking my art when you...." Snape trailed off. His meeting with Walburga Black's famous potter's wheel had been inturrupted...he was a little too disappointed to argue with Black. He stayed quiet.

After a moment.... "So, Snivelly...," Sirius taunted. Just like the good ol' days.... "I guess this means we can call you... a potter?"

"NOOO! PLEASE NOT THAT WRETCHED WORD!"

"Snivelly's a potter!"

"Sirius, we're not in Hogwarts anymore," Remus reasoned from the door.

Snape was getting mad....

"Who cares? Snivellus is a potter! And he can't stand it! Hah!"

Very mad....

"I wish this could have happened in seventh year, we would have had this elaborate prank that would have let the whole school know –"

"WRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Sirius jumped back with an exclamation. Snape had lunged at him, bearing teeth in what he hoped was menacing but was really just a weird and disgusting way.

"What the –"

"I HAVE HAD IT WITH NOT HAVING MY DREAM OF BEING A MASTER OF POTTERY! CAN A SIMPLE MAN NOT FUFILL HIS DREAM OF MAKING BEAUTIFUL PIECES OF ART OUT OF THE MAGNIFICENT SUBSTANCE THAT IS CLAY?"

"That's what you call a beautiful piece of art, is it?" snickered Sirius, eying Snapes ugly – er, gorgeous vase-like...thing.

"AAAARGH!" In his fury, Snape released a huge flurry of sparks out of his wand, which he accidentally waved around in the general direction of the potter's wheel.

Wait.... No!

The sparks betrayed him. They flew into the potter's wheel with a BANG! and the magic-powered tool just... collapsed.

"NO! Reparo! Reparooooo!"

Off to the side, Sirius was snickering, walking out of the room. "Guess you can't be a potter anymore, Snivelly. Hahahah!"

With Sirius and Remus gone, Snape was left to wallow in his potter's-wheel-lessness.

...Apparently anything with the word 'potter' and Snape just doesn't mix.

A/N: I personally think this was so stupid in an awesome way, xD. Sorry, really, for any typos, I've been in school all day and I'm way too lazy to thoroughly proofread this because of it. Please please please review!