read my new story : American Fast & Furious NSFW
Hogwarts, Underground Greenhouse.
This place, originally used for growing Mandrakes, was now filled with a suffocating sense of oppression.
Snape stood before rows of incubation boxes, quill in hand, furiously ticking boxes on a checklist.
"Sample #1: Sufficient hair volume, Toxicity Level A. Suggested Price: 5 Galleons per insult."
"Sample #2: Receding hairline is concerning, but creative with insults. Suggested Price: 20% off for members."
Inside the incubation boxes weren't chicks or Blast-Ended Skrewt larvae.
Instead, they were palm-sized "Hair Tonic Fairies"—tiny creatures with black wings, wearing mini black robes, looking exactly like miniature Snapes. Crucially, every single one was bald on top with only two tufts of hair by their ears.
"Professor!" One fairy broke out of its shell, flapped its wings right up to Snape's nose, and shrieked in a high-pitched but disdainful voice: "There's mud on the hem of your robe! This is a desecration of Slytherin's honor! Ten points from Slytherin! Detention!"
Snape wasn't angry; instead, he smiled like a proud father.
"Perfect timbre, perfect level of meanness." Snape gently stroked the fairy's head. "Go, my child. Check everyone's hairline at Hogwarts. Tell them if they don't buy my hair tonic, their future will be just like yours—short and impotent."
"Yes! Professor!"
The fairies swarmed out of the greenhouse like a flock of black bees.
Ten Minutes Later.
Screams erupted all over the Great Hall.
"Ron Weasley! Your center part looks like a lawn trampled by a Mountain Troll! Buy a bottle, or you'll never find a girlfriend in this life!"
"Hermione Granger! Don't think being smart hides the hair loss from all those all-nighters! Look at that part! You could plant Mandrakes in there!"
Hagrid was sitting in the corner eating a Rock Cake.
A fairy flew in front of him, stared at his messy beard, and sneered:
"Hagrid, if you don't condition that beard, we can use it as a nest for the Blast-Ended Skrewt. By the way, even the Skrewt has better hygiene than you."
Hagrid dropped his Rock Cake, tears welling in his eyes:
"It... it makes so much sense... I can't even argue..."
---
Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's Office.
Voldemort was facing a mirror, trying to practice that "spine-chilling, sinister sneer."
But he couldn't do it.
Because the Crayon Shin-chan Nose on his face was flashing frantically.
> [Emotion Detection System Activated]
> Current Emotion: Rage.
> Nose Color: Police Light Red (High Alert).
> Sound Effect: Siren wailing (Wee-woo Wee-woo).
"Turn it off! Turn it off!" Voldemort frantically covered his nose with his hands, but red light beamed through his fingers, turning the office into a disco.
Quirrell shivered in the corner:
"M-Master, this seems to be Headmaster Dumbledore's 'Truth Serum Magic.' Whenever your emotions fluctuate, the nose sounds the alarm..."
"What if I want to kill Snape?" Voldemort asked through gritted teeth.
Beep!
The nose instantly turned deep blue.
Voice Announcement: "Detected Host's impotent rage. Suggest booking a Neurology appointment first, then seeing Professor Snape for Dermatology."
Voldemort trembled with fury.
Just then, Minister Fudge pushed the door open, wanting to discuss compensation for the Ministry being blown into a concrete shell.
As soon as he entered, he was blinded by the flashing blue nose on Voldemort's face.
"Mr... Mr. Riddle?" Fudge took off his glasses and wiped them. "Your nose... is this performance art? Or some new Dark Mark?"
Voldemort took a deep breath, trying to look profound and mysterious:
"Fudge, I want to rule... rule..."
Beep!
Because he was lying/bluffing, the nose instantly turned bright purple.
Voice Announcement: "Detected Host is 'pie-in-the-sky' bluffing. Actual Intentions: Wants money, wants power, and wants a pet that doesn't shed."
Fudge's expression became weird.
He looked at the flashing purple cartoon nose and couldn't hold back a laugh:
"Pfft... Hahahaha! Mr. Riddle, your nose... it's quite smart, isn't it? More sensitive than the Ministry's Sneakoscope!"
"Don't laugh!" Voldemort roared.
Beep! Red! Siren wailing!
"I'm going to kill you! Avada—"
Beep! Purple! Voice Announcement: "Is that the only line you know? Change the script, please!"
Voldemort finally broke.
He rushed to the window and screamed at the Black Lake:
"Quirrell! Bring a knife! Cut this damn nose off! Even if you have to shred my face!"
---
Meanwhile, in Azkaban.
It was supposed to be a place of deathly silence.
But today, in the square usually reserved for high-security prisoners, a massive stage had been erected.
The backdrop read: [The First Annual Azkaban · Dark Magic's Got Talent · Sponsored Exclusively by Lord Grindelwald].
The Dementors weren't feeding on happiness as usual; instead, they were forced to sit in rows, acting as "audience" and "judges."
Under their empty hoods, they seemed to radiate a sense of "I wish I were dead."
Center stage, the Golden Frog Grindelwald stood on a podium made of Dementor skulls, holding a bone as a conductor's baton.
"Next! Death Eater Barty Crouch Jr.!" Grindelwald shouted in frog croaks. "Sing 'My Master is a Nose-less Fool'! With feeling! I want that melancholic vibe of 'I'm a Death Eater but I really wanted to be a pop star'!"
Barty Crouch Jr., wearing prison stripes, held his wand like a microphone, tears streaming down his face:
"~Oh~ Tom~ You have no nose~ I have no hair~ We are a pair of~ tragic melons~"
Thwack!
Grindelwald threw the bone baton at him.
"You're off-key! Your Avada Kedavra has better rhythm than this!" Grindelwald shouted at the Dementors. "Score him! Anyone giving below 60 points gets no happiness for dinner! Starve!"
The Dementors tremblingly raised their scorecards.
All zeros.
"Good!" Grindelwald nodded in satisfaction. "It seems everyone has taste. Now, please welcome our special guests—The Dementor Choir! Song: 'Why is the Wind in Azkaban So Cold?'"
The Dementors emitted a "singing" sound that was like fingernails scratching a blackboard.
"Ahhh— Eee— Ugh— Azkaban— Cold— Want to die— Can't die—"
Grindelwald listened, enraptured, an expression of intoxication on his frog face.
"Beautiful! This timbre of despair! This vibrato of pain! This is art!"
Just then.
A Hair Tonic Fairy flew into Azkaban through the ventilation ducts.
It was here to "expand the business."
The fairy flew above the stage, looked down at Grindelwald (Frog Mode), cleared its throat, and let out Snape's signature sneer:
"Hmph. A bunch of small fry having a party."
Dead silence.
The Dementors stopped singing. Barty Crouch Jr.'s jaw dropped.
Grindelwald slowly turned his head to stare at the fairy.
"What did you say?" Grindelwald's voice dropped low, laced with danger.
The fairy was fearless; it was Snape's spiritual successor, after all.
It pointed at Grindelwald's smooth frog skin:
"I said, your skincare routine is terrible. No pores, no oil, not even wrinkles. As an elderly man, you lack the basic 'weathered beauty.' Suggest purchasing Professor Snape's 'Frog Exclusive · Exfoliating Dead Skin Toner', only 9.99, guarantees bumpy skin."
Grindelwald froze.
The Dementors froze.
No one had ever dared to speak to Grindelwald like this.
Even Dumbledore would only talk to him about ideals and the past.
But this fairy was pushing exfoliating toner?
Three seconds later.
Grindelwald burst into maniacal laughter.
"Hahahaha! Good! What an exfoliating toner!"
He laughed so hard he rolled around on the skull podium, nearly falling off.
"Gellert Grindelwald! The Dark Lord who ruled half of Europe! Now being pitched skincare products by a fly-sized Snape! This is absurd! This is fascinating!"
He jumped up and grabbed the fairy.
"Little thing, go back and tell Severus. I'm investing in this show! I want to be the Honorary Helmsman of the 'Hair Tonic · Azkaban Branch'! Tell him to train these bald Death Eaters into livestream influencers!"
The fairy squeaked as it was squeezed, but still shouted stubbornly:
"Let me go! You warty toad! The Professor won't let you get away with this! Unless you buy an annual pass first! Discount on annual passes! Help!!"
Grindelwald tossed the fairy into the sky.
"Get out! Take the message to Severus! If he doesn't give me dividends, I'll have the Dementors hold a concert at Hogwarts!"
The fairy scrambled away in terror.
Grindelwald watched its retreating figure, eyes shining with excitement.
"Dementors!" he shouted. "Rehearse a new song! 'The Ballad of Snape's Hair Tonic'! I want a melody that makes people want to empty their wallets!"
"Ahhh— Eee— Pay up— Grow hair— Snape—"
The night sky of Azkaban echoed with the bone-chilling choir.
---
Back at Hogwarts.
Snape sneezed.
He looked at the flattened fairy that had flown back and listened to its report.
"Grindelwald..." Snape ground his teeth. "Wants to buy shares? Fine. Hand over his gold toilet as collateral first."
He turned to look out the window toward Azkaban, a cold sneer curling his lips.
"Ivan!"
"Here! Professor!"
"Go prepare the contract. Also, take Voldemort's color-changing nose and apply for a patent. Call it the 'Emotion Visualization · Anti-Fraud Nose Ring.'"
"What about Mr. Voldemort himself?"
Snape glanced toward the Great Hall, where Voldemort's screams of shame (due to his nose turning green) could be heard.
"Tie him up." Snape said indifferently. "There's an 'Anti-Baldness Charity Gala' at the Ministry tonight. Let him go be the flashing mascot. Remember, I take 80% of the ticket sales."