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Chapter 1: Announcements
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The Sorting Hat had just finished sorting the students into their various houses when Albus Dumbledore slowly rose from his chair. The hall fell silent as his blue eyes sparkled mischievously. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I hope that you have emptied your brains sufficiently so that we may fill them once again. And now, for a few announcements." He paused to consult a roll of parchment. "Once again, I must stress that the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students. Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has also asked me to remind you that the Third Floor is once again forbidden to all students unless you wish to suffer a long and painful death."
At the Gryffindor table, Ron, Hermione and Harry shared a conspiratorial grin. It was feeling like old times.
Dumbledore spared himself a quick glance to either side of himself and smiled. No one suspected a thing, he realized. "And in one last announcement, there will be a Talent Show Extravaganza the Friday before the Halloween Feast. Participation is mandatory for all staff and Seventh Year members of each House," his blue eyes were twinkling more than was usual even for Dumbledore, "and the winner or winners will of course win House points. I, of course, will not be participating as I will be one of the judges." He allowed himself a small chuckle. "Should you have any further questions, please speak with Sir Nicholas, who will be acting as a Master of Ceremonies."
As the Headmaster once again settled himself in his chair, a hush fell over the hall. "And now, let the Feast begin," he ordered as the plates magically filled.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione, Ron, and Harry gaped at their Headmaster before turning their perplexed gazes on each other. "A talent show?" squeaked Harry.
Hermione reached for her pumpkin juice and took a long swallow, her throat suddenly dry. "But we don't have any talents," she whispered furiously, sneaking another glance at the high table. If the looks on McGonagall, Snape, Hagrid, and the other professors were any indication, not one member of the staff thought this was a good idea.
Ron shook his head. "Sure we do. Um, 'Mione, what's a talent show?"
Hermione glanced at Harry. Neither seemed to notice that quite a few of the Gryffindors were waiting for the answer to that one. "It's a show where students and faculty get up on stage and dance and sing and perform in front of the school." She sighed heavily and pushed away her dinner plate, suddenly not as hungry as she had been only moments before.
Ginny Weasley grinned and nudged Harry. "Looks like you'll be tripping the light fantastic," she whispered, enjoying the flush that tinged her boyfriend's ears.
Hermione sighed.
Harry grimaced and glanced at Ron, who'd suddenly gotten a very evil glint in his eyes. "Um, Ron, what are you planning?" he asked, regretting the question almost as soon as it was spoken.
Ron chuckled and rested his elbows on the table as he leaned towards his friends. "The perfect act. A tour de force." The red-haired young man was nearly rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
Oddly, Harry and Hermione reacted similarly to their friend's glee.
"Uh-oh."
Ginny arched an eyebrow at her two older friends. "What do you mean, 'uh-oh'?" she demanded of Harry.
Hermione smiled at the younger woman. "What we mean is that Ron has an idea..." she began.
Harry's smile mirrored Hermione's, though he was trying to keep himself from getting jabbed in the ribs again by Ginny. "And we all know from experience that a Weasley idea is a dangerous thing."
Ron had the decency to laugh with his friends before splitting his attentions between his dinner and his latest paramour, another Gryffindor. Harry and Ginny, meanwhile, seemed to have made up from their nonexistent spat and were now engrossed in the kissing part of the phrase "kiss and make up." Which left Hermione to stare down at her plate of vegetables. Sighing, she speared a broccoli and lifted it to her lips.
Just another night at the Gryffindor table.
Now all she had to do was worry about the "Weasley Plan."
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Severus Snape was quietly fuming as he picked up his glass of gillywater. Damn Albus and his "bonding" activities. Personally he had absolutely no inclination with the seventh year students matriculating from Slytherin House this year. Nor did he wish to prance about a stage with his fellow teachers. As he sipped his gillywater, he was suddenly struck by the image of Draco Malfoy dressed in a nun's habit and singing "The Sound Of Music." Struggling not to choke, he quickly set his glass down beside his untouched dinner plate.
Perhaps this idea of a talent show might have some possibilities, he thought wickedly, allowing his black eyes to roam over the faces of the student body.
The possibilities for mayhem and hilarity seemed unlimited.
For the first time since Dumbledore had made his announcement, he allowed himself a small smile. And an uncharacteristically charitable thought to bounce around his overstuffed cranium: Maybe Albus's idea wasn't completely mad.
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