(4) This is the chapter that started it all. Apparently these people don't like to be made fun of. Well, I like everything to be made fun of, including myself, which is why, in hopes of enjoying another couple flames this time 'round, I'm leaving this chapter in almost exactly its original form—making comments rather than edits—despite there being some things I'd prefer to delete. However, I'd really like it if no one 'reported' me this time. It is, quite frankly, getting annoying, and I'm sick of playing Internet games. All I want is to entertain, wink wink.

So, here you go, for the third time…

Dumbledore + McGonagall

Called 'MMAD,' because it is.

I don't even know where to begin. Okay…so, first off, if there was even the slightest chance of a romantic relationship between the two of them, don't you think they would at least TALK to each other more often? Secondly, Dumbledore is, like, 50 years older than McGonagall. Thirdishly, I really don't know how to break this to ya, I really don't…but Dumbledore is GAY. As in NOT STRAIGHT, as in NOT likely to fall in love with Minerva McGonagall, who is, in fact, a WOMAN. For those of you who didn't notice.

So let's just go with it, this highly unlikely (read: IMPOSSIBLE) situation. Let's say Dumbledore and McGonagall are LAH-vers. Or married. Which happens surprisingly often for something completely ludicrous. So there they are, being LAH-vers in the HOTTUB (Yech. I don't even want to think about Dumbledore craving spiced meat (Note for Sumptuous Edition: this joke comes from a Saturday Night Live skit, for those who didn't know)). So they're just soaking and…and being totally OOC when all the sudden an intelligent fan's face appears in the starry sky.

"Eurgh!" booms the intensely magnified voice of the fan. "What are you guys doing in there?"

"Well," says McGonagall in her usual indignantly dignified tone, "Actually, we're here because our author wrote us here. Which means that we belong here and you do not. So there," and since she's already being completely OOC, McGonagall sticks out her tongue at the starry face.

"What kind of insnane author would do that? Not only is it totally wrong for the books, but it's so unfair to torture you two like that!"

"I think," Dumbledore interjects reasonably at just the right moment, "that our dear author enjoys the irreverence of our banter and the slick-yet-dry demeanor which is the overtone to all of our discussions, and therefore would like to see us together more often."

"So write a friendship fic! No offense, but your guys' ship is just GROSS!"

"Lemon drop?" asks Dumbledore, cleverly changing the subject. The fan looks down and retches.

"EuurrAAAAArrrgh! I can't stand it any more! Since WHEN does Hogwarts have a hot tub-tub-tub-tub????" and with that echo the fan fades away. The fan swings back through the solar system, popping by Mars for a quick chat and then boomeranging back down to Earth so they can complain about some more fanfiction.

"What's up?" the Lady of Mars asks her neighbor, the Lady of Venus.

"Oh, not much…hot over here, as usual…oh shoot, the cat's on fire again…FLUFFY, GET BACK HERE!"

Meanwhile, on our planet, McGonagall has some important news for Dumbledore. She rushes up to Dumbledore's office, yelling "LICORICE WAND!" at the gargoyle so violently that several startled students jump. She dashes up the stairs, taking them four at a time, and bursts into the circular room.

"Albus," she says breathlessly, "I have something to tell you!" Then, without waiting for Dumbledore (in what the author apparently thinks is typical McGonagall style), she continues, "I've discovered the cure for dragon pox!"

"Oh Minerva," says Dumbledore, "that's wonderful news!" He swings her into his arms and kisses her. Erlack. "So…what is it? What is the cure?"

"Er…well, you see…it's more of a thing that…only women can do…" (I wish I could change this part. It comes from an inside joke between my cousin and I. Ah well. Flames abound!)

"Oh, that's okay. This fanfic exists, which apparently makes me bisexual. I can probably deal with this," says Dumbledore cheerfully. McGonagall gives him her severe-teacher look, which is totally creepy and un-called-for in this circumstance.

"Well, Albus…the cure is…you see…You kinda have to squish your boobs together. Three times. Just…like…this." McGonagall squished her boobs together three times.

"One question," says Dumbledore, peering at her from over the top of his half-moon spectacles (which are conspicuously missing in the movies! Hel-LO, people!).

"Yes, Albus?"

"Where on Earth did you learn to do that?"

"Er…let's magically pretend this transitions into something else important that I have to tell you."

"And what would that be?"

"I'm pregnant, Albus."

"Oh, that's okay. I'm gay."

Yeah. Did I mention Dumbledore was gay?

You know, I've really had some very interesting flames for this chapter. One reviewer condescended to inform me that Mars and Venus were not next to each other. If you want to enlighten me similarly, just press that little button in the center!