CHAPTER SEVEN: "Fall Festival Shenanigans"

The Fall Festival started off with part of the Professor Vox Storm Troopers (as the Fifth-Year and older Gryffindor boys called themselves) demonstrating the prototype of the newly developed Minoan Quidditch, using an enchanted walnut for a Snitch, a borrowed Quaffle, and two nasty-tempered bulls in place of the Cretan aurochs (which had replaced the Bludgers in the Minoan version).

Harry Potter, Fred and George Weasley, and Oliver Wood were using the rougher Minoan Quidditch to help them refine their flying, as this version of the game placed a twenty foot ceiling restriction on the players, plus the threat of being gored kept the game quite interesting. The Beaters were now the Teasers, as they now had to keep the attention of the bull/auroch off of their teammates by slapping it in the snout and have it chase them instead.

Professor Britomartis Vox and Severus Snape sat in their traditional places on the sidelines of the festival and watched the students play games and eat treats.

"Still not quite authentic," Britomartis commented as she pushed down the skirt of her turquoise sundress as it fluttered in the wind. "The twenty foot ceiling is still dangerous with a real auroch on the pitch."

"As we both know from experience, Gryffindors have less intellect than a used tea-bag," Severus commented. "We should not expect them to do anything correctly." He leaned close and gently drew a long finger over her bare shoulder. "This dress is much more suitable than yesterday's."

"Mother is allowing me to wear the traditional child's tunic from home rather than that European monstosity of lace and taffeta."

He raised an eyebrow. "How did she find one in your size?"

"I told her it was the tunic, but it's really a dress. What is even more telling is her finding that baby-doll dress in my size!" She thunked the flat area of her chest just below the base of her throat. "I doubt they make the real ones in E-cups! If they do, I want to hunt down the manufacturers - and their customers - and feed them to Lethifolds!"

"I prefer not to think of such things, Spirals. It ruins the appetite."

"Quite right." She looked around. "Here we are once again, on the outskirts of a festival and people-watching. What can be said this time?"

"Besides the fact that Mr. Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff has been staring obsessively at your E-cups for the last ten minutes - without blinking?"

"Oh?" Britomartis glanced around the festival from behind her sunglasses. "Oh, there he is - over by the Merging Tarot table. Yes, the dribble on his chin is quite familiar-looking in most young boys that notice the first time."

"Do you think he will damage his eyeballs? He really should blink occasionally."

"I'm reminded of an old Chinese fable of a martial arts master who burned a hole in a fortress wall by staring at it."

"Then you're definitely in danger. I should dump water on you to keep you from combusting."

Britomartis giggled. "Getting this dress wet? Poor Finch-Fletchley will die of testosterone poisoning. Or a stroke."

"Too good for the common folk," Severus agreed. "Excuse me a moment, dear."

Severus got up and stalked over to Justin Finch-Fletchley, his dark robes billowing around him and bringing darkness to the golden warmth of the autumn. After a moment of talking towards the boy, he returned to his seat next to Britomartis while Justin turned away and clutched the table next to him.

"What did you say to him?" she asked in alarm.

"I asked him if there was any problem." A puzzled expression crossed his face. "And the boy answered in this voice too deep for his age: 'Of course not, Professor'." Severus narrowed his eyes. "Then I told him it was impolite to stare at proper witches while thinking smutty thoughts. He seemed to have gone faint after that."

"Did you also threaten to hex a mouth inside his underpants like you did to Pettigrew once?"

"No. I had forgotten about that." He allowed his wand to slip down his sleeve.

She pushed it back up. "Then what did you say?"

"Nothing at all. Gods, woman, you are suspicious."

"I also know you. Tell me."

"No. And I have changed considerably since we were younger."

Britomartis poked his shoulder. "Bother."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Not in front of the children, Professor. They may get the idea we are human."

"Oh. Mustn't have that."

Severus peered across the grounds, looking for a subject change. "At least the aural energy around here will keep the Dementors at bay. Still, the Headmaster's memo was correct in warning us to be ready to defend the students."

"I hate those things." She rubbed her shoulders. "One measily mass murderer and they drag out those horrors."

"I rather liked the idea of Sillyass Prat being drained by those things the last twelve years ... it gave me a warm feeling at night until you arrived."

Britomartis smirked. "I'm sure it did."

"But you're more cuddly."

She broke into laughter. "Snips, you really should listen to yourself sometime, it's hilarious hearing you say these things while you're projecting your 'evil potions master' persona!"

"If you don't want me to say anything, then tell me to be silent." Severus raised an eyebrow. "They are things I wanted to say twenty years ago, you know."

"Yes. And don't stop saying them." She laced her fingers into his at their sides. "Oh, look, there's our Little Lord Malfoy now, pretending to be horribly injured and letting Miss Parkinson dote on him."

"He does bring shame to Slytherin by such childish actions." He paused. "We never did have a raving mad Lucius screaming at us last night, did we?"

"No." She paused. "Wouldn't Draco have told him about the tattoo?"

"The Headmaster surely would have ... "

"Perhaps neither didn't?"

The chortles of laughter that blasted from the direction of the Slytherin House Master and House Mother made several students break out into sweat and edge away from that particular section of the festival.

"You know ... " Britomartis began after the laughter died down. "After our pranks working out beautifully, I always wanted to kiss you."

"Since you were eleven?"

"Since just before I turned thirteen, actually." She smirked. "Mind if I claim one?"

"In front of the children?"

"We're not the center of attention."

"Oh, very well ... "

Their faces pressed close, lips seeking the other's ...

Saphira plopped down behind them and passed a package between their faces. "I'm trying awfully hard not to vaporize you right now, Professor Snape."

"Many people have said that," he returned as he pulled away. "What is your reason?"

"I see an adult male being WAY too close to my toddler child - what do you think?"

"I once set a man on fire for the same reason," Severus answered. "But the child really was three and not thirty-three."

"That's why I'm restraining myself."

Britomartis sighed and finally accepted the package. "What's this, mother?"

"The owl just delivered it - it's from Xenia."

The Worlds Religions professor grinned and quickly unwrapped the package. "My childhood photo album! I'm so glad Xenia kept it." She looked up. "Snips, this contains many pictures of a silly little girl-child that happened to have my name. You may want to wander off."

Severus allowed a smirk to curl his lips. "I'll leave long enough for ice cream."

"Yes, do that," Saphira agreed readily.

"Usual, love?" Severus asked Britomartis.

"Yes. Want any ice cream, mother?"

"Strawberry, please." She leaned across and gazed expectantly at the album.

"Two strawberries, then," Severus stated as he wandered into the festival.

"You like strawberry?" mother and daughter asked the other.

Britomartis immediately opened the album and began sharing the first few years of her life with her mother.

Professor Remus Lupin remembered Fall Festivals past as he walked the grounds of Hogwarts and the festival itself. He, James, Sirius, and Peter would run around, torment Snape, flirt with Vox, devour all the cinnamon funnel cakes made, and challenge everyone and their sister in the games.

Seeing Severus Snape carrying ice cream cones brought back distinct memories of when Britomartis Vox attended and the two Slytherins ate nothing but ice cream during the festivals. However, Snape being his dark Potions Master self made the ice cream run rather ludicrous looking in this age.

His eyes followed the dark figure and finally rested on Miss Britomartis accepting her ice cream from Snape and quickly attacking it with her tongue.

Remus halted abruptly and outright stared at her as she drew her tongue delicately across the pink ice cream, shaping the softness with her mouth. The tip of her tongue darted across the top, then swirled around the upper part before withdrawing. Her mouth enclosed the top portion of the creamy mass and slurped it up, drawing a whine from his throat.

He was quite aware he was not the only one being mesmerized - he heard at least three teenage boys whining and it was obvious Snape stopped breathing a minute ago.

Remus checked himself. Of course she was unaware of what she was doing - she was concentrating on some album with her mother and just licking the ice cream, not noticing the effect it had on the males around her. It was a product of filthy minds, nothing more.

Then Snape turned around ... and saw him.

Severus now had every right at his disposal to hex Loony Lupin into a grease stain.

As he got up and marched over to the DADA instructor, he felt a small measure of satisfaction as Lupin went even paler than usual and began coughing. It pleased him to no end with the images flittering through his mind with ways to humiliate the lone Marauder.

"Drooling on your shirt at your age, Lupin?" Severus asked, slowly pronouncing every syllable.

Remus' mouth fell into a nervous smile. "You know the problem as well as I, Severus."

"Indeed. One cannot forget almost being eaten alive by a scruffy-looking mass of drool and bad breath." He narrowed his eyes even further and began walking. "Incidentially, have you heard about the wolfsbane potion - "

"Yes," Remus quickly replied as he dashed to walk alongside him. "I've been studying it quite closely - "

"The full moon is within a few days, Lupin. Have you mastered at least First-Year potion-making enough to brew it?"

"Unfortunately, no, and you know better than I that the brewing of wolfsbane potion is beyond even the capability of a fully-accredited Seventh-Year." Remus smirked. "It may even be beyond you."

"Indeed." Severus paused before the Skeet Shooting booth. "If I should ... assist you by brewing and administering this potion as the Headmaster suggested, will you stop staring at Professor Vox like a lust-struck pillock?"

Remus stared at him. "Did I ever - in the years we attended - do ANYTHING to Miss Britomartis like the rest of them did?"

"You never tried to stop them, either, Lupin." He scowled and glanced at the Skeet Shooting booth. "Shall we finish that game from twenty years ago? Played honestly, this time, without that dullard Pettigrew squeaking like a stepped-on Puffskein?"

"I was judge, not player, Severus."

"You're the last Marauder; karma carries ever onward. Or are you still trying to make an alibi for yourself?"

Remus shrugged, his nervous smile growing. "I accept. Carnival wands. If I win, you stop accusing me of wanting to hump Miss Britomartis' leg."

"If I win, you stop thinking it."

Both men stepped up to the Skeet booth, the students parting and watching as their Professors picked up the birch game-wands. They brought their wands up and formally bowed, then spun and faced the thirty by forty backdrop.

(At least one upperclass Slytherin girl moaned from her House Master whipping his hair around ... surely he must have SOME idea of what effect he had on them!)

Skeets - small frogs with green butterfly wings - began dancing across the backdrop and the Professors began shooting by wand.

Within two minutes, the students around them grew in number and divided themselves into Lupin versus Snape camps, cheering on their Professors. It did not occur to anyone why Snape ended up with most all of the Sixth and Seventh-Year girls squealing in delight whenever he hit a Skeet.

Meanwhile, the energy patterns changed, and the Dementors felt it.

The air felt chill, and Britomartis looked up from the album as she rubbed her shoulders.

The aural patterns over the festival had changed considerably. Less than a half hour ago the patterns were blue and purple with red and pink streaks denoting happiness and excitement; now the colors were grayish-red, the aural patterns of competition.

She gazed up into the sky, peering past the visual world and gazing into the energies of the air ...

And saw Dementors swirling restlessly at the edges of the school grounds, gathering numbers as the aural patterns beckoned them for feeding.

"Great Mother ... "

Within two seconds, she had cast a loudness charm on herself and yelled, "STUDENTS - PLEASE GO BACK TO THE CASTLE! DEMENTORS ARE MASSING TOWARD THE FESTIVAL! STUDENTS - PLEASE RETURN TO THE CASTLE IMMEDIATELY IN AN ORDERLY MANNER!"

The faculty broke into command and began escorting students back into the school. Others - Dumbledore, Flitwick, and McGonagall - peered into the distance to see the first whisps of Dementors swooping down into school grounds; the teachers pulled their wands out, ready to battle and cover the escaping children.

Britomartis took away the loudness charm and pushed her mother toward the castle. "Get in, get in! You don't want to be sucked on by those things!"

"But what are - ?"

"Guardians from Azkaban - I'll explain later. Get in, HURRY!"

"I can't leave you - !"

"Mother, I'm a bloody adult and an instructor here - I HAVE to protect the children!"

Saphira dashed off, following the students back into the school. Britomartis turned around and saw the still competing Remus and Severus.

She ran over to them. "WILL YOU STOP THIS? There are DEMENTORS about to attack the students!"

Both men snapped out of their game, looking up to see the first Dementor heading toward them.

Severus dropped his game-wand and released his ebony wand into his hand while Remus tried to retrieve his from inside his robe.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Severus yelled.

The Dementor spiraling toward them was blasted away by the Potions Master's Patronus - a silver raven in full attack.

Remus finally pulled his own wand out and released his own Patronus at the Dementors making their way toward the last few students running into the school, just as Flitwick, Dumbledore, and McGonagall did the same.

The Dementors scattered to the four winds, leaving the Professors and Headmaster gasping for breath.

"What attracted their attention?" Dumbledore wondered aloud.

"I wonder ... " McGonagall murmured as she gazed at Remus and Severus over her rectangular glasses. Britomartis raised a disapproving eyebrow as well.

The two younger Professors gazed at the ground in guilt.