George Weasley missed his twin more than he could ever say. In the years since Fred’s death, he had thrown himself into Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, coming up with greater and greater pranks in honor of his partner-in-crime. Over the years, he had come up with truly wondrous products. His whoopee cushion charms for portraits had been his favorite—Dumbledore’s portrait had been casting those all over Hogwarts for years, much to the amusement of the students.
But tonight, he would release his coup de grace: his “Shiny Happy People” serum. It was an odorless, tasteless liquid that, when placed in someone’s drink, caused a euphoric state. This state was often accompanied by dancing and singing.
And he had brewed it especially for Severus Snape.
Fred had once said that the only reason Snape was always so snarky was because he couldn’t remember what it was like to be happy. And so, he had planned it all out—odorless, tasteless, and with no ingredients that could possibly interact with any residual snake venom that may still be in his system after all these years.
Snape was about to be happier than he’d ever been. Happier than Dobby was when he’d received a new pair of socks. Happier than Umbridge whenever she’d found another plate with a kitten on it.
Snape never saw it coming. He was a creature of habit, and George knew it well. Snape used the same glass to drink every time he was forced to attend functions at the Burrow, so George had coated the inside of the glass with the serum that morning. Like clockwork, Snape had walked in, nodded to Arthur and extended his hand to Molly, before bee-lining for the punch bowl. After a surreptitious sniff of the contents, he liberally poured some of the punch into his glass. George slowly walked to the back of the room, standing near the back door. Snape took a sip of his punch, surveying the room with one eyebrow cocked.
The result was nearly immediate.
Snape’s pupils dilated and his hands began to shake. His glass fell from his hand and shattered on the floor. In a deep, booming baritone, he began to sing.
“I feel pretty,
Oh, so pretty,
I feel pretty and witty and bright!
And I pity
Any girl who isn't me tonight!”
Other than Snape’s singing, the room was dead quiet. George looked skyward, raising his glass in a silent toast to his absent brother.
According to the trials, dancing often followed singing in individuals dosed with “Shiny Happy People” serum. Snape was no different.
However, the tutu Snape conjured for himself was a bit much, even for George. His laughter punctuated the silence; it had been years since he’d laughed so hard that liquids rained forcibly from his nose. Fred was the only person who had ever made him laugh that hard, so he took it as a sign that Fred approved.
The final straw came when Snape conjured a small meadow to surround him, complete with hoppity bunnies. The oppressive silence of the room was finally completely broken by the sound of multiple peals of laughter.
George tore his eyes away from the scene long enough to see Ron hurrying towards him.
“Did you do this, George?” Ron demanded.
“What? Me, little brother? Absolutely not.”
“Look, George, this has you written all over it. And, when Snape comes out of this, he’s going to know it was you.”
“So what if he does?”
“Run. Apparate. Do something! Just get the hell out of here.” And without waiting for George to respond, Ron shoved a bag of Galleons into George’s fist and shoved him out of the room.
Snape continued to dance around the room. With a final pirouette, he passed out.
Those present at the party would never forget the sight of Severus Snape’s prone form being hopped upon by the cutest little bunnies.
George Weasley was never seen again.
AN: The Prompt Was Born From Darkness (aka the Saturday Night Drabbles Chat at TPP):
FoxyVoxy: I learned that readers currently want fluffy snape, angsty Hermione, and romaaaaaaaaaaaaaaance
astopperindeath: like snape-dancing-with-fluffy-bunnies fluffy??
Dynonugget: stopper, that sounds like a crack!fic