Saeth Ceirwyn -you're completely right, i thought the same thing about how i'd done the location switches, i just ignored my own instinct. So i've done a quick fix and put the Hogwart scenes together.

Chapter 10

Hogwart's

Jareth glanced around the office with interest, wondering how the hell the wizards got the paintings to move like that, and why they would want to. Jareth couldn't imagine anything worse than having your predecessors staring down at you and giving advice.

He'd thought his goblins bad in the gossip department, but the poor headmaster must have it much worse, since the paintings seemed not only able to gossip with their neighbours but also move frames at will, covering, Jareth suspected, the entire castle and possibly even further afield than that if the magic was strong enough.

He shuddered at the thought of living in a castle covered with living paintings of ancient Goblin Kings. Goblin King's had tended in the past to be rather warlike, having more in common with his Weapons Master than Jareth himself and Jareth had grown up on stories of their achievements. He was completely certain that he never wanted to meet his ancestors, even as paintings.

He wondered how Dumbledore could possibly get any work done, with all those eyes staring and judging him.

"Well?" Severus demanded impatiently.

Jareth narrowed his eyes at the demand, turning to stare the rude man down.

Snape stared back and the two proceeded glower at each other.

The headmaster and Hugh glanced at each other, both with an identical, longsuffering look.

Dumbledore then affected the least convincing stumble ever and kicked Severus in the shin, "I'm sorry Severus, was that your foot?"

Severus turned from Jareth, obviously understanding the less than subtle threat inherent in Dumbledore's manner.

Jareth rolled the Heart Stone around his hand and decided to call it a win on his side. He pushed the stone with his magic slightly and the orb, recognising its maker opened its secrets to him. The castle stirred at the intrusion, but ultimately also submitted to the will of its maker and sent back friendly, questioning, tendrils of magic.

Jareth was almost overwhelmed. Hogwarts was a castle fused with generations of magic; self aware to certain extent, much like his own Labyrinth and had been lonely for a long time now. In the old days, the castle bonded with the headmaster, but those days were gone and Hogwarts could only influence events very subtly these days.

He sighed, beginning to see exactly how much work he had just let himself in for. His head was throbbing already. He let the magic dissipate around him slowly and opened his eyes.

"Well?" asked Dumbledore intently.

"Not now," Jareth sighed, "I have a headache." He moved towards the door, unsurprised when Sir Hugh appeared at his side.

Sir Hugh opened the door and glared a warning as Albus started to speak. He gently took Jareth's arm as they descended the stairs. Jareth made no comment and for once took the support he was offered. By the time they reached his allocated quarters, Sir Hugh had pulled Jareths arm over his shoulder and had one arm round Jareth's waist. Jareth was fading fast.

Jareth rested his head on Hugh's shoulder, wanting nothing more than to lie down in a dark room. His head ached from the castles force and his magic was drained, pulled into Hogwarts as the castle fought for its survival. Jareth hadn't expected the desperation, hadn't realised how far the wards had fallen or that the castle would see him as a saviour and cling so tightly.

Jareth slept through most of the next day, only awaking for dinner. He was still drained and was going to need at least a couple of days rest before he could start to help the castle. He could only hope the castle would be able to hold on. Personally he wasn't sure it could, or would, especially now that it had hope of a saviour.

"Looks like the Boy Who Lived is receiving more fan mail," Snape mocked, as Harry's dinner was almost entirely covered by mail and owls.

Jareth looked up from his dinner, "the boy who lived? That wouldn't seem to be a particularly special achievement, that he should be given a title for it?"

"That's Harry Potter! Defeated Lord Voldemort as a babe and then again last year! Hero of the Wizarding World," Hagrid interjected.

Jareth looked unimpressed and Snape, suddenly suspecting an ally, looked over and rolled his eyes. Jareth sniggered and Snape smirked back, suddenly willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt.

Snape struck up a conversation about wines, gently testing the waters of a possible friendship and to his surprise Jareth actually responded. Severus was rather used to other people hating him. Which he was actually perfectly fine with, but on the few occasions he had actually attempted friendship with new people, his reputation had usually already preceded him and they were either already terrified of him, or so keen to prove they weren't, that they would verbally attack him first. It was extremely novel to be able to truly start fresh with someone.

3 hours later and both men were pleasantly drunk. Snape had been persuaded to break open some bottles of his homemade wine after the two men had happily complained about the swill served at the table, regardless of Dumbledore's presence. It had all been downhill from there.

They proceeded spend their entire evening complaining to each other, though ground rules, while unspoken, were understood and adhered too. Jareth would make no comments about Dumbledore, or Minerva, though Snape was free to do so. While Snape would make no comments about the goblins, though Jareth was free to do so. They both enjoyed themselves thoroughly, more than happy to sympathise with the other over how terrible they had it.

The Labyrinth

Didymus was sat in a meeting and thinking longingly of the old days, to his days living in the swamp acting as the executor of justice to its inhabitants. The lack of actual people in the swamp had meant his days were not exactly full, despite his enthusiasm to help anyone and everyone.

Those days were gone now and these days he spent his time actually hiding from the endless array of people that wanted him to intercede and solve their problems. Instead of Didymus achieving the honour and glory of his ancestors, being a Knight of the Labyrinth was turning out to be a completely thankless task and Didymus' inbuilt good nature was quickly turning into bitter sarcasm, a type of self-defence learnt from hanging out with his friend Hoggle.

Not a single one of the little bastards residing in the Labyrinth would accept any of Didymus' decisions. He was starting to suspect he could tell them the sky was blue and they would still argue the point. He had bought himself a little calendar that he kept now in his quarters and every day he crossed another day off, with thick red marker, as he counted down to Jareth's return. At which point he fully intended to have a mental breakdown and a nice long spell in a quiet little hospital somewhere.

Unfortunately, between that point and now was the goblin Faire, only a few weeks away now and Didymus had been volunteered by someone, or rather drafted, to be part of the organising committee. He'd initially thought it would be a nice break from acting as a justice of the peace. It wasn't.

He looked up at the sudden silence, accidentally catching Fenrook's eye.

"Excellent, Sir Didymus it is then." Fenrook stated calmly.

Didymus looked round wildly, all the others appeared to be staring at the carpet and pretending to be invisible. He gulped.

Fenrook moved on quickly, with absolutely no sympathy for Didymus' panicked look. He ended the meeting quickly once he'd finished issuing his orders, quickly escaping the numerous goblins stood outside the doors wanting his attention. He'd gotten very good at escaping people since Jareth had gone, all the council had.