ATTACK OF THE NERVES

"My dear Professor Slughorn", said the Charms teacher, Filius Flitwick, to his colleague one wet, rainy July afternoon, "have you heard that the vacant Defence Against the Dark Arts post has been filled at last?"

Professor Slughorn replied that he had not.

"Don't you want to know who has taken it?" asked Flitwick, a trifle impatiently, for Slughorn seemed more interested in his crystallized pineapple than in the future of Hogwarts.

"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it, my dear friend ", said Slughorn.

This was invitation enough.

"Well, as you know", squeaked Flitwick, "Albus had placed an advertisement in the Daily Prophet for a new DADA teacher, and nobody had seemed at all eager to take it up, considering the last three DADA teachers have been so unsuccessful at it. My dear Professor, the post is actually rumoured to be jinxed!"

"Well Filius", said Slughorn quellingly, "all this I already know."

Professor Flitwick seemed a little put down.

"Madame Morgana Travers", he announced in a meek voice quivering with excitement, "an ex-Gringotts Cursebreaker has assumed the glorious post!"

"Ah! " said Slughorn, and Flitwick was pleased to finally hear a note of interest in Slughorn's booming voice.

"I have heard of her!" exclaimed Slughorn, clapping his hands enthusiastically. "Isn't she the one who cured the Tutankhamen Tomb of its treacherous Shrinking Curse?"

"The very same!" squeaked Flitwick, as his hat toppled off.

"She will be a good instructor of our students", said Slughorn, patting his enormous belly and nodding his beefy neck.

"What do you say we pay her a visit?" asked Flitwick. " You know, to give her a brief warm-up about Hogwarts? She lives in Burgundy Street, in the charming village of Woodcroft."

"Hmm", said Slughorn, twirling his silky moustache. "That's not a bad idea, Filius. We can tell her about the students here, she will certainly like to know of their connections and grades. And I should probably also warn her off starting a club like mine."

Flitwick snorted. "I doubt that anyone could dream of bereaving you of your distinguished Slug Club members; you are so very possessive of them, Horace!"

"Not all of them", said Slughorn, clearly stung by this. " Only the ones who are my true favourites."

Flitwick snorted again." You have only one true favourite, Horace. And that, is Lily Evans."

At the mere mention of his most beloved disciple's name, Slughorn perked up at once.

"You are absolutely right, Filius", he said. " She is indeed a jewel in my crown. Charming girl, that one. Such a bright head she has, bright enough to match those lovely eyes of hers. She simply oozes with charisma! I must throw in a good word for my little Lily to Travers."

Flitwick feigned a look of horror, which he hoped was not lost upon Slughorn. " My dear Horace," he squeaked, "I desire you will do no such thing! You must not bias Madame Travers in this manner! She must handpick her own favourites, er, that is, she must not show favouritism at all! ---"

"Come, come, Filius", said Slughorn, waving his ring-decked forefinger at him in an accusatory manner. "Isn't Lily your favourite student too?"

Flitwick blushed.

" I never said she wasn't!" he said winking at his fat friend. "Indeed, I have never taught a more creative, innovative student in all my life. She has an instinctive knack for charms!"

"That girl is dear to every teacher in this school!" said Slughorn fondly.

" And to James Potter", added Flitwick slyly, and the two friends burst out laughing.

"That boy is completely gaga over her!" gasped Slughorn in between his body-heaving guffaws.

"He stares at her all the time, and pays no attention in my classes!" said Flitwick, now scowling slightly.

"Oh, well", said Slughorn, sobering up. "That's a very common complaint against him. But he's a bright chap; I doubt he's ever needed to open a book in all his life."

"If only I was a redhead with green eyes", mused Flitwick, "he would listen to me much more often."

Slughorn started chortling again.

There was a short, comfortable silence during which both the teachers gazed out of the steamy window of their staffroom, and observed two little chipmunks hopping in the mudpuddles outside.

"Lily should have been in Slytherin House", said Slughorn suddenly. "She has all the necessary leadership qualities and the vivacity in her ---"

Flitwick rolled his eyes. It was Slughorn's petline to say that Lily should have been a Slytherin.

" I do not think so", interrupted Flitwick crossly. "She's a very clever, smart young girl; and intelligent people belong in my House -- Ravenclaw -- "

It was Slughorn's cue to roll his eyes at Flitwick's petline.

"Professor Flitwick!" cried Slughorn in mock horror. "How can you abuse my House in such a way? Do you mean to say that Slytherins are not bright, only Ravenclaws are?"

"Slytherins are cunning, not clever! " said Flitwick frostily, standing up on his footstool, but still not reaching Slughorn's shoulders.

"Alas!" cried Slughorn, clutching at his heart. "You will surely give me a cardiac stroke one day! You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves!"

Flitwick wisely decided to ignore the fact that Slughorn's imitation of him was practically perfect.

"You mistake me, my dear friend", he said in a condescending tone. " I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with acute pain these thirty years at least."

" Ah! But you don't know what I suffer! " said Slughorn, wiping off an imaginary tear from his chubby cheeks.

" Indeed, I do!" continued Flitwick in the same strain. "And I sincerely hope that you will get over your sufferings, and live to see many young wizards and witches get sorted into Slytherin House."

" It will be of no importance to me", cried Slughorn, now positively howling in his phony misery, "if not one of them will be like my Lily!"

" YOUR Lily?" yelped Flitwick. "I think we had settled for the fact that she was to be a Ravenclaw?"

" Oh, shut up you two!" shouted the portrait of Agrippa irritatedly. " She's in Gryffindor, and that's where she'll stay!"

The two friends burst out laughing.

Agrippa only harrumphed.

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A?N: I'm sure you've already guessed by now that the one-shot is based on Jane Austen's masterpiece, Pride & Prejudice. Do you like the first chapter? Should I continue? Tell me. --