Harry woke with a yawn as the sounds of Neville's snores punctuated the room. Damn. He had finally gotten to sleep after staying up til two to write Snape's moonstones essay. It would be impossible to sleep in the same room now that the human chainsaw was back though.
He decided to head downstairs and see if Dumbledore wanted to have a tea party. The castle was quiet at this time of night, but what it lacked in noise it made up for in creepiness. It was not exactly comforting walking around shadowy suits of armor with ghosts all over the place. Harry would have thought he'd be used to it by now, but some things never quite lost their novelty, even as a sixth year. Arriving at the gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's domain, Harry scrunched up his face and squawked. Recognizing the password, the gatekeepers sprang apart and allowed him passage.
Dumbledore's convenient moving steps brought Harry smoothly upward until he reached the griffin door that led to the headmaster's office. He ran forward and tried to dropkick the door, which was, of course, the only way to unlock it. Harry congratulated himself on his graceful entrance; he knew Dumbledore was proud of his ability to dropkick doors. Spying the man deep in thought in front of an all too familiar circular object, Harry yelled a greeting.
"Well hey there, young 'un," Dumbledore exclaimed in his customary southern accent. "What brings a chap like you down to mah office at a time lahk this?"
"Well, you know, I was just hoping we could have a tea party," Harry replied. "You know how much I love diagonally cut sandwiches."
"Well hardy har har, that sounds like it sure would hit the spot! I looove tea, especially with parsley and essence of tomato!"
Harry and Dumbledore always started the first three sentences of their dialogue with the word "well" because Malfoy lived in one and they were jealous. It was a bittersweet coping mechanism; on the one hand, it made them feel a little better that their linguistic home could match up to Malfoy's actual one. On the other, it's not like people dipped buckets into their houses to get water. But Harry knew that if he focused on that, he'd never be able to shake the nagging feelings of despondency and hopelessness that had plagued him ever since Malfoy had informed him of his change of address. The only thing besides starting sentences with the word "well" that could console him was diagonally cut sandwiches. The physics that went into creating them was just so sweet, so simple, so effortlessly beautiful. He had tried unsuccessfully to mimic the results using scissors, but it didn't work quite as well as he had expected. Maybe he should have sharpened the scissors after using them to mow the lawn and trim his prize-winning roses. But back to the time at hand.
Snape walked into the room with the special, flowery table mats that Seamus had made for Hanukkah decorations..He sneered as he carefully placed a bowl of sneer soup, served in his own best china bowls, in front of the headmaster and his student.
"Glad to be of service... Not!"
"Severus, you're not allowed to say that until after we say thank you," remonstrated Dumbledore.
"Detention, Albus. I will not be spoken to in that manner."
"You can't give me a detention," screeched the headmaster. He jumped up onto one foot, slapped the ceiling, and punched a convenient bag of chips into smithereens. I sure showed him, he celebrated internally.