B.O. and Lemon Drops

"What the - goddamn, you smell like burnt garbage. Have you washed that thing once? Literally just one time?" I ask, holding my hoodie sleeve up to my nose. I relax slightly as the lavender scent of my fabric softener fills my nose, glaring at the man before me. 

Professor Snape bristles in shock. "How dare you? These are generational robes-"

"So your entire family stank, too? Get it together, holy hell. You literally have a wand. You can read people's minds, but you can't conjure up some detergent? That's embarrassing for you and every generation before you that wore those literal curtains," I snap, feeling a gag rise in my throat. 

Snape leans down, invading my personal space. "You little -" 

"Oh, my god. Your hair smells, too. Do you not shower, bro? Is that just a wizard thing? Stinky robes and greasy hair? I thought that was just for fairytales. Apparently not, since an anti-shower witch with a crooked nose is standing right before me. Who would've thought? Not me," I rant, taking a step back and pressing my sleeve firmly against my nose.

"How dare you?" he splutters in shock, glaring at me with crusty eyes. My god, he didn't even bother to wash his face? How the hell did Dumbledore hire this shameless freak? His name suits him.

"How dare you abuse children? Aw, man, I'm so sad I got friendzoned. Guess I'll bully eleven-year-olds for a living," I mock, putting on a high, nasally voice. "How could she reject me? I showered three days ago and insult her all the time! Better join a cult dedicated to killing people like her because I still can't get over my mommy issues."

Snape's face grows red with fury. His arm shifts against his robes and he swiftly draws out his wand. Fortunately, it was not the tiny one in his pants.

"Petri-" he starts, and I roll my eyes.

"On God, I'll snap your wand," I threaten, looking casually at my perfectly manicured nails. I decided to get them extra sharp in case I ran into dangerous weirdos. I thanked God and then myself for my wisdom.

"What seems to be the problem?" Dumbledore suddenly asks, and I whirl around in irritated surprise. How the hell does he just appear? Perhaps I'm the dumb one. Dumbledore watches us with a perfectly calm expression, and I marvel at his total indifference and dilated pupils, noting to myself to steal some of his "lemon drops."

"Professor Snape is abusing children and killing people, so I'm gonna call the cops. He also threatened me, a minor, so I may be forced to snap his wand in self-defense." I pout my lips in mock pity at Snape's enraged expression, shrugging my shoulders. 

"Aww, maybe you shouldn't have become an incel after taking literally one L. Some y'all do way too much."

"Well, as they always say, it is for the greater good." 

Dead silence.

"What the hell? What the actual hell? You're literally dumb and high as a kite. How are you allowed to even teach? Half the faculty should be rotting in a prison cell right now, but instead y'all put on this high and mighty front and hide behind your half-formed concept of the "greater good." Know what, all y'all can go to hell. I'm calling the cops." I breathe heavily as I finish, fixing my glare on the old man before me.

"...happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to be turned on," he says after a pause.

Snape shifts awkwardly. "Sir, I believe it was supposed to be, "if only one remembers to turn on the light-"

"Silence, McGonagall," Dumbledore slurs, holding up a shaky hand. "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

"Sir, you forgot your own quote -"

"I need none of your patronization, Minerva!" Dumbledore suddenly snaps. "I will not hesitate to snatch off your wig, as the young people say!"

"Leave it, Snape. He's not gonna "forget to live" anytime soon. He literally did dark magic just to keep his useless ass alive for a few more years."

"Silence, muggle."

"Silence, discriminatory, abusive, racist, smelly incel."

"Right, I must be off. Good evening to the both of you," he says, wandering off in the bright of day. 

"Say," I add after a beat, "do you happen to know where Dumbledore gets his lemon drops?"