I am a moron. That's really nothing new, but hey, I'll explain this one, yeah? Here goes.
I have had a bit of a problem with insomnia for most of my life. It comes and it goes, and when it comes I wind up falling asleep around three or four, and since I have to take my lil sis to school in the morning I wake up around seven. Sometimes I can get back to sleep round eleven in the morning, but it doesn't help me all that much because i have to get back up at twelve or one to pick her up.
Kay, now that you have that wonderfully enlightening backstory, I got myself a wonderful idea yesterday. I thought to myself that if I refused myself any extra sleep at all during the day, I might be tired enough to go to bed earlier and actually sleep. I was wrong. Basically what happened was I felt really really tired, and went to bed around eleven...only to lay there trying to sleep until four. Go me. On the bright side I got to sleep in till ten today because my sis had cramps and couldn't go to school.
The odd thing is that my insomnia usually only kicks in during times of high stress, and I don't *think* I've been stressed lately. Everything is going pretty well actually, so I don't get it. Whatever.
In other news, not all that much to report. Life is great, Life is good, and that really isn't sarcasm. :)I am going a little stir crazy being in the house so much, but after this week that should change, thank goodness.
And ooh, I write fanfic! No, seriously, I wrote a little one off that is mainly me turning the 'Snape is Harry's real father' cliche into a parody, and oh-so-subtly (or maybe not) inserting in my newly acquired dislike of Dumbledore. I'm gonna post it here and ask that all my friends please please pleeaase tell me what you think. I need to know if it's good enough to post on a fanfic site. Honest opinions are lurved and snogs go to all those who reply. :D
Presenting:The Big News
Pairing:It's up to the reader in the end.
Rating:Let's say R to be safe.
Summary:Dumbledore tells Harry some shocking news. Harry is less than impressed. Ooh, and a portrait faints.
“Harry,” Dumbledore said gravely, the usual twinkle in his eyes absent, “I have something very important to tell you
The boy in question shrugged, not sparing the old man in front of him even a glance. He was locked in a sullen staring contest with the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, and he’d be damned if he would lose to a bloody portrait. Whatever Dumbledore wanted to tell him could wait. Besides, it wasn’t as though anything the manipulative git had to say could ruin his life anymore than the bomb about the prophesy had. When you learned it was either kill or be killed, other things just ceased to matter as much.
“Harry, there are things you think about your life that aren’t quite accurate…” Dumbledore trailed off, obviously waiting for a reaction from Harry, but was sorely disappointed as at this sentence his pet Golden Boy didn’t even bother to shrug. He sighed and continued, knowing that soon enough the enormity of the situation would hit poor oblivious Harry, and he would once again need his mentor and friend to help him, “Now I know that this may be hard for you to come to terms with, but please remember that I am here and will help you in any way that I can…“
As the so-called ‘mentor and friend’ droned on, Harry continued to return Phineas’ narrowed gaze, and thought to himself that the Headmaster really was an old windbag. Couldn’t he just get to the point already? Honestly, the man could save some time by just telling Harry—
“—that your real father is in fact…Severus Snape.”
Phineas blinked, and Harry let out a small cry of triumph. “HA! I win! Take that, you miserable old piece of—“
Harry finally looked at Dumbledore now that he had established his superiority over the annoying portrait. “Yeah?”
He was being frowned at. “Did you not hear what I just said?” Dumbledore asked softly, thinking that perhaps the boy was in shock. He barely kept himself from rubbing his hands together in delight. Soon, soon, Harry would burst into tears and he would have his role as surrogate grandfather restored. Soon, he would regain control…he had to resist the urge to cackle madly.
“Oh, yes, lemme think. Basically what you’re saying is that my mum, wonderful woman that she was, had a torrid affair with a Slytherin that ended horribly when she realized he was Marked. In a fit of shock and heartbreak, she turned her attention to one James Potter, who quickly married the girl of his dreams. Around eight months later, I appeared on the scene to scare the hell out of one Dark Lord and all his little playmates. But what no one knew was that I was actually the illegitimate child of that unknown Slytherin, the man my mom truly loved. You alone held the secret of my birth, but kept it from me because you weren’t aware of who my actual father was. But you’ve recently come to the conclusion that it could be only one man, and that man is…” Harry paused to draw out the suspense, mentally thanking Hermione for making him and Ron watch all those cheesy soap operas over the summer, “…Severus Snape, snarky potions master and hater of all things clean. Hair so greasy you could fry eggs on it, nose so long and crooked that only a mother could possibly love it, and all around sexy bastard.”
Dumbledore was stunned. How could Harry be taking this so well? He was supposed to be a blubbering mess by now, dammit! The Headmaster tried hard not to pout. He really needed a lemon drop.
The Boy Who Lived watched the old man gape for a bit, then decided to drop the bombshell. Leaning towards Dumbledore he plastered a concerned look on his face and asked conversationally,“Does this mean that we have to stop shagging? Because I’m not really sure I could give that up, sir. He may not look it, but Severus has a really great body under all those robes, and stamina! Wow, the man can go for hours, sir. He’s a regular wild man in bed. I just hope that I have that much energy when I’m his age.” That said, Harry leaned back slightly to survey the damage.
Dumbledore was slowly turning purple. He held his arms straight out from his body, and he was slowly clenching and unclenching his fists. Nonsensical muttering was coming out of his mouth, and his eyes were bulging in shock. Harry heard a faint thud and turned his head to see that good old Phineas had fainted in his frame.
Two for two. Time to go.
Harry stood up and walked over to his sputtering Headmaster. Patting him on the back, he said, “Don’t worry, sir, the shock will wear off in a bit. Just keep in mind that I’m here and will help you in any way that I can. Ta.” And with a cheerful smile and wave, Harry practically flew out of the classroom, thanking whatever gods were in charge of boy-heroes that Dumbledore had decided to tell Snape first, and that said potions master wasn’t quite so under his thumb as the old man liked to think.
so? whaddya think? *Pouts in a hopefully endearing fashion* tell, tell!!