On the first day of Christmas, Dumbledore gave to me,
A staff choir singing out of key.
There had been horrible noises coming out of the teacher's lounge for days. Fred and George Weasley were running a betting pool on what it could be. The current odds favoured a magical hippopotamus starving, with Snape taking a shower in at 74%.
The truth, however, was not so dramatic, although it was equally horrible.
"Come on," yelled Dumbledore, annoyed. "How come none of you can sing in tune?"
Severus Snape sighed in exasperation and gave the Headmaster a Look.
"Headmaster, we are witches and wizards. None of us took any lessons on singing and we weren't planning to do so in the near future."
"Why are we doing this anyway?" chimed in tiny Professor Flitwick.
"Because I am your Headmaster, Fillius, and I hired you. I can easily fire you," Dumbledore snapped. "Now, one more time with 'Deck the Halls'."
The singing started up again- if you could call it that. The students that had been standing around near the staff room ran off, resolving to place a bet very soon. It was hippopotamus odds again.
Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger, having the Marauder's Map and an Invisibility Cloak, knew exactly what was happening in there. They were, at that very moment, crouched in a corner, watching Dumbledore's futile attempt at conducting the whole of the staff.
"I'm sure glad that we brought ear plugs," Harry remarked quietly.
"What?"
As the staff trooped out after a full hour of pointless practising, a small group of invisible people followed.
"One thing's for certain," Hermione said. "We can get a lot of money on betting."
"Hermione, you are an evil genius," Harry replied."
Ron still had ear plugs in.
"What?"