“Can I get you a drink dear?” you heard a voice ask. “Don’t think you can afford my ta-” you trailed off your playful words as you turned in your stool. Your eyes lit up and jaw dropped as you saw him standing there, having put on a fake voice initially. “Jack!” You jumped up off your stool to embrace him. “I’ve missed you too love” he chuckled, hugging back. “Now, rum my good sir we’re celebrating a pirates return!” he nodded.
I always thought about theatre –
I’m not sure about film, but certainly in the theatre – if I could press two buttons, first I’d have my lines going across the back of the auditorium, with electric lights – that would calm me down. The other one is all actors should have a t-shirt, whatever the costume, that just says on it, “Believe it or not, I’m doing my best.”
“Umm sir, you have a visitor,” you heard one of Crowley’s minions say from afar. You wanted answers; hell you needed answers. So you found a reaper and made a little arrangement. Here you were; Hell.
“Send them in, unless its a Winchester or that bloody angel,” you heard his accent echo through the grimy walls. You made your way into the dark room, Crowley was sitting on his thrown, his head resting on his fist, bored, until his eyes met yours. He sat up quickly, trying to hide his surprise to see you.
“Y/N,” his voice said roughly. To say you were angry was an understatement. “Don’t you have some deals to be closing?” he demanded to the group of demons next to him. The second he raised his voice, they were gone. “So to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Don’t play games with me, Crowley. You know why I’m here,” you voiced as calmly as you could.
“Can’t quite put my finger on it, love.”
“You kissed me!” you shouted loudly.
“Oh, that,” he shrugged, “No big deal, I’ve kissed so many people, just ask Bobby.”
“Don’t do that!” you scolded.
“Make this a joke. I saw your face afterwards, you can’t take that one back. You can brush this off as much as you want, but you and I both know you’re hiding something, and I’m going to find out,” you told him. His eyes watched your every movement.
“I’m not hiding anything,” he smiled smugly. You pulled out your demon blade and pressed it to his throat.
“I’m scared okay! Ever since that bloody Winchester got me hopped up on the good stuff, I’ve lost my edge. I have fe-feelings,” he over-exaggerated. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought. You removed the knife from his throat and walked over to his thrown.
“So what, you feel bad about all the people you’ve killed, or about never caring about your son? Did you cry at the Notebook?” you joked. “If you have feelings then, why did you kiss me?”
“Because I love you, and I have since the moment you tackled me into that devils trap in Maine. There is just something about you that makes me want to be a good kind of bad,” he confessed. You watched his expression change completely right in front of your eyes.
“Wow, you really have lost your edge,” you smiled before pressing your lips to his, catching him off guard momentarily.
Luna: Because I thought it would be more stylish and a bit more secure than a simple ponytail, sir.
Snape: *pinches bridge of nose* I suppose this is my own fault. What I should have asked was, ‘Miss Lovegood, why are you braiding your hair when you are supposed to be working with the rest of your group by removing the wings from these beetles and preparing the base for next week’s antidote?’”
Luna: Well, you see, sir, I am not very good at removing the wings from beetles - I can feel their displeasure from the other side at having their bodies ripped up for parts, and they are not happy about it - and so I may help with the simmering portion, but I cannot even fathom going near an open flame with loose hair. I am honestly quite shocked that you are not more concerned with the welfare of your students, sir. Half the girls in here have their hair down. That’s a safety hazard, sir, and braids are such a fashionable and simple solution. See? I’ve already done Miss Abbott’s hair. Isn’t it lovely?
Snape: …You are not being graded on your hair styling skills, Miss Lovegood. You are being graded on your potion making abilities.
Luna: Yes, but today we are being graded as a group, you said so at the beginning of class, sir. And so, by not butchering the poor, dead bodies of those sweet, innocent beetles, and by instead ensuring the safety of myself and my fellow classmates, I am contributing to the group’s larger goals and therefore the base potion which we are being graded on equally.
Snape: Miss Lovegood, what are you doing outside of my office?
Luna: I am hanging butterbeer corks on your door, sir.
Snape: *resists urge to pull out hair* …Why?
Luna: I’ve been sensing some very bad vibes around the castle
lately, sir. Bad. I think something terrible is going to happen soon, and I
think I may know why. Tell me, sir, have you been noticing things missing from
your office or classroom recently?
Snape: I – what? How did you know that?
Luna: Hmm, yes, I thought so. I felt their aura very
powerfully, here. I’ve been sensing them in the dungeons, off the Serpentine Corridor
on the third floor by the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, and, oddly
enough, in the seventh floor corridor, across from the tapestry by Barnabas the
Barmy, though I’ve no idea why. There’s nothing there to steal…
Snape: *genuinely intrigued, despite better judgement* What
are you talking about, Miss Lovegood? Do you… Do you have any solid, pertinent information
about the strange happenings at Hogwarts this year…? *looks over shoulder,
lowers voice* …Do you know something, Miss Lovegood?
Luna: *nods deeply*
Snape: *is honestly expectant*
Luna: *lowers voice as well* ….Nargles.
Luna: Nargles, sir.They’re tricksters. Invisible creatures that steal
things and pull pranks for fun. They often take my shoes and other things.
But I’ve never seen them this bad before. Usually it’s just clothes or homework.
But they’ve just been insatiable this year! So I am placing butter beer corks
everywhere I’ve sensed a heavy infestation. Like your office.
Snape: ……Miss Lovegood, take your…butter beer corks and go
back to your common room.
Luna: But the nargles—
Snape: Nargles are not real, Miss Lovegood.
Luna: ……Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they’re
not real. But okay, sir. *takes down butter beer corks* *sighs* Their auras
really are getting out of control, sir. I don’t think that even stealing from
teachers is going to satisfy them, soon.
Luna: Bad vibes, sir. Bad vibes. I think they might start
*stares unblinkingly with giant eyes, butter beer corks
dangling uselessly in her limp hand*
Snape: *feels irrationally and entirely too disturbed*
Luna: *sudden smile* Well, I’m off to the seventh floor,
then. Have a good evening, sir.
*wanders away in wrong direction*
Snape: *considers drinking more butter beer and holding on
to the corks*