Hey, this is how self feel exactly after making a new post, which means practically every day. -_-
Okay, digression over. Am rereading all the Harry Potter books so when Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows is out will be refreshed of the plot to understand the book. Not that am buying the last tome, mind you, when it costs one-third if wait a year later for the paperback! A classmate promised to lend the book once she’s done. Which might take forever. So anyway, am currently reading Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban, this particular chapter:
Chapter Seven: The Boggart in the Wardrobe
“Weasley, cut up Malfoy’s roots for him,” said Snape, without looking up.
“Professor,” drawled Malfoy, “Weasley’s mutilating my roots, sir.”
“Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley.”
“And sir, I’ll need this Shrivelfig skinned,” said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.
“Potter, you can skin Malfoy’s Shrivelfig,” said Snape, giving Harry the look of loathing he always reserved just for him.
“[…]Weasley, slice my caterpillars for me.”
Caterpillars… Shrivelfigs… roots… skinned… don’t they just remind you of something quite… phallic?
Don’t worry, you’re not the first person to think sulz is a big fat perv.