In a room mightily resembling the Gryffindor common room, except for a few minor modifications such as a boombox, a cauldron, and a portrait of Voldemort, Dumbledore massaged his temples, staring down at his oak desk with an utterly depressed gaze. Good Lord, this Muggle music would be the death of him, if Severus hadn't been already. "Mr. Weasley," he called across the room, "perhaps it would be prudent to turn that down?"
Fred looked up and gazed across the room with a confused, glazed look in his eye. "WHAT?!"
"TURN DOWN THE BUTTERFLIES, PLEASE!" Dumbledore bellowed across the room.
"WHAT, SIR?" Fred yelled back.
"I SAID-"
Bellatrix came tearing into the room from the hallway, in the process knocking over two tables, a chair, and six flower vases. With a feral hatred in her eye, she picked up the boombox Fred had been head-banging to, pirouetted like a drunken sailor on her heel, and slammed it into the wall. The music ceased to exist, finally. And so did the boombox. It was now a heap of shattered CDs, broken parts, and other Muggle materials. Fred stared at her with a horrified look in his eye. Did she know how much a White Album from the Beatles cost? And what had Dumbledore said? In answer to his unspoken question, she snarled at him, "THE OLD SHE-GOAT SAID TO TURN DOWN THE BLOODY MUSIC, YOU BLOOD-TRAITOROUS, PUNKY, GITTISH, FILTHY-MINDED EEJIT!"
Ted Tonks moaned, looking up from his "Modern Warlock" magazine. "Oh, will you tone it down, you old bat?"
"I'll wound you, Muggle!" shrieked Bellatrix, tearing out her wand. Her elbow knocked aside a portrait of Voldemort on the wall. She shrieked and turned to straighten the painting, murmuring, "I'm so sorry, Master-I didn't mean to-Master, you must forgive me..." She only managed to muck it up even more.
Dobby, who was already tottering over to clean up the mess Bellatrix had made, squealed, "Mistress Lestrange must not set the paintings askew! It took Dobby hours to get them straight! Dobby stayed up all night straightening the paintings! With a ruler!"
"Aside from that, we're dead, Bella," Tonks replied from another corner of the room, where she sat with Remus on a leather loveseat. "You couldn't wound any of us if you tried. Which you have. Repeatedly."
Dobby nodded mournfully. "Mistress Lestrange choked Dobby, whacked him over the head with a pan, pushed Master Dumbledore out a window, used Dobby as a club to hit Mistress Tonks, and smacked Mister Weasley's brother Mister Weasley across the face."
"Er, that was more because of an inappropriate comment than a desire to kill, Dobby," Remus remarked as he looked across the room at Fred. His gaze was half disapproving and half bewildered. He'd overheard the "remark" Fred had made to Bellatrix. Merlin's sweatiest jockstrap, could that boy talk dirty!
Bella snarled at Fred. "Speaking of that, you red-haired, Muggle-minded little weasel, if you ever even think about insulting me in such a way again-"
Fred turned bright red. Thank God his mother wasn't dead yet.
Severus Snape stalked into the room. "Damn it all, I cannot find a proper cauldron in the place. They are all far too small, and the ingredients on the grounds are positively-"
"Shouldn't you be looking for shampoo with that greasy mane of yours? The one that hasn't been washed since you set your beady little eyes on that Mudblood broad Lily Evans?" Bellatrix replied snarkily.
Snape glared coolly at her. "Bella, hadn't you better keep your overlarge mouth shut? It would be such a shame if I ran into Rudolphus on my quest for a decent cauldron, and my tongue happened to slip about your little extracurricular events with the Dark Lord-"
Bellatrix turned a bright bloodred. Fred clapped a hand over his mouth, and Tonks giggled. Bellatrix whirled towards the house elf. Dobby squealed and dove under Dumbledore's desk, lest he be put to use as a club again. In doing so, he knocked over a gargoyle paperweight, which fell on Severus's foot. Severus snarled in pain and clutched his foot, accidentally elbowing Lupin, who'd gotten up to stop the ruckus. Lupin slugged him. Fred leapt to his feet and began crying, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" One thing lead to another, and soon the entire room was in chaos. Lamps, books, papers, small furniture, and house elves were flying everywhere.
"Would you all kindly stop quarreling?" yelled Dumbledore. "You realize that some of us are supposed to be resting in peace?" He was left unnoticed. A lamp soared over his head and smashed into the wall. In exasperation, he put his head in his hands. Wizard afterlife wasn't all it was cracked up to be...