Cherry Ripe

[wellpresseddaisy]

“Would you kindly sod off, Headmaster?” Severus growled.

He knew going into the staff room for a digestif with Minerva would prove to be a mistake. For one, the coffee was appalling. For another, it gave Dumbledore a prime opportunity to corner him.

Minerva, the traitor, sniggered into her substandard coffee.

“It’s such a very small request, Severus. Miniscule, even. And think how much joy you could bring into the lives of the aged?” Albus wheedled. “They would be so terribly excited to see you perform again. Your grandmother was a favorite of many.”

Severus nearly bit his own tongue in outrage.

“Last year, you degenerate old codger, you had me in a catsuit and some reprobate kept yelling ‘show us your arse then, darling’.” He hoped his scathing tone would singe the old arsehole’s beard off.

“Douglas Harriot went off to his next great adventure this December last,” Albus explained hurriedly, sensing his moment. “He won’t be in the audience to trouble you. And it is for charity.”

Severus favored him with the stink eye that sent most students scarpering for the hall before detentions went flying.

“I’m sure you’re very frightening, dear boy. Not one of us wonders how you keep your more vivacious students in check. I suppose I could manage to find an extra free weekend for you each term and…seven more free evenings this year?”

“What do you have in mind?” Severus sighed.

“There was a really splendid scene in a show on the telly that I saw with Cecilia and Deidre the last time I went round for tea…you’re not adverse to cross-casting, are you?”

———

Which was how Severus found himself seven weeks later, crossing the stage in the Jolly Jents Revue (all proceeds to go to the Aged Alchemists Fund) while wearing a flame-colored velvet corset (with matching and spangled pants) and singing:

Cherry ripe, Cherry ripe

Ripe I cry…

He tossed a long curl over his shoulder and hoped against hope that the pompadour they’d swooped his front hair into would hold. It had to last at least through You’d Be Surprised, Sister Susie’s Sewing Shirts for Soldiers and The Blues My Naughty Sweetie Gives to Me.

The extra free weekends would be worth it.

“Show us your arse then, darling!”

For example, he could use one to murder Lucius Malfoy.