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6. HEAD OF HOUSE HUNTING

Harry B. Potter was roaming through the dark corridors of the peacefully sleeping school of W&W. Black waves of menace were tangibly emanating from his predatory form.

"Looking for somebody, Potter?"

Harry turned around. Right behind (and well above) his menacing back was the unreadable and unprintable face, firmly attached to the Head of Slytherin House.

"..."

"???"

"!!!"

"???"

I'LL KILL YOU SNAPE!!!

"How original, Potter. I'm impressed. I truly am."

Snape was lazily twitching his long, well groomed, nice and supple, hollywoodish fingers... Wait a bit… HOLLY WOOD?! NICE AND SUPPLE?! PHOENIX FEATHER?!

Harry frantically searched his vast sleeves. No wands. He searched his deep pockets. Nothing worth mentioning. His knees buckled.

...

"So, you were looking for me then... ", Snape looked extremely bored.

"Um...No. Not me... you. That was another Professor Snape. Yes. Yes. An absolutely different Snape."

"Hmm... How disappointing. A relative of mine, then?"

"Um... No, no... Not a relative of mine... yours... relative... not..."

"Hmm. How very disappointing... And just when I thought that even your destructive tendencies could be put to good use once..."

" ..."

"Very well, Potter. You may go."

"..."

"?!"

"Um... Professor?"

"You're still here, Potter?"

"Um... Eh... Detention?"

"This. Whole. Bloody. Castle. Is. One. Big. Detention... Potter."

"Oh... I see it now... What?! Not even points?"

"Points? What is the point to taking non-existing points, Potter? Gryffindor is still in minus 2357 points, thanks to a very aSPEWring member of your noble house. Of course, the freedom of poor house-elves is more important than some petty points..."

"Oh... I see it now... What?! It was only minus 1823 yesterday!"

"Hmm. I was regretfully forced to take 5 points this afternoon from Mister Trevor Longbottom for wearing my House's colors. I believe also that another point was taken by our esteemed Headmaster when he got a glimpse of this morning's breakfast... And if you add here 411 points Headmaster Dumbledore took after he got the taste of today's breakfast..."

"Oh... I see it now... What?! He took only about a hundred of points after today's lunch and dinner?!"

"No, Potter. After today's breakfast Headmaster Dumbledore is profoundly unable to pay any attention to yet many of lunches and dinners to follow..."

Snape made a long pause here. But if he was waiting for Harry to ask the much anticipated next question, he was in for a big disappointment. Harry B. Potter was just mutely staring at him with those two bright-green saucers of his. Snape sighed, yielding to the power of stupidity.

"It was Professor McGonnagal."

"Eh...What about her?"

"It. Was. Professor. McGonnagal. Who. Took. All. The. Remaining. Points. From. The. Gryffindor. House... Potter."

"Oh... I see it now... What?! But she's our Head of House!!!"

"Right you are Potter. But, as you failed to notice, apart from this head she has other bodily parts which require some daily attention."

"???"

"Professor McGonnagal took all those points from Gryffindor after she had to levitate 117 buckets of hot water up to her private bathroom. One point for each bucket, I assume."

"Oh... I see it now... What?! Why so much? That much water would be enough for the giant squid!!!"

"Somebody was stealing all the water from her buckets half the way from the dungeon's boiler."

"Oh... I see it now... What?! From the dungeon's boiler?!"

Harry suddenly remembered how pink-clean and contently looking all the Slytherin House (even Snape!) was at this morning's breakfast. His bright-green saucers narrowed in suspicion. Snape just sneered innocently and Harry B. Potter felt his sacred rage returning (it always did).

WE STILL NEED TO TALK, SNAPE!!!

"What about?"

"I can't tell you!!!"

"Hmm. How intriguing."

Snape yawned.

"Very well, Potter. I know just the right place and time where you could speak safely about what you couldn't speak about.

He waved his hand in a wide circle. A faintly shimmering door appeared in front of them."

"???"

"Never seen a Time Portal in your whole miserable life, Potter?"

"Oh... I see it now... What?! It is not miserable!!!"

"Isn't it? That could be still arranged, Mister Potter. That still could be arranged... Not that I'm threatening you, of course..."

"..."

Snape slowly pocketed Harry's hollywoodish wand within the folds of his off-black cloak.

"This is a Small Range Time Portal, Potter. It will send us both back in a near past. Say, half-an-hour ago from now."

Snape turned and stepped through the door.

* * *

They materialized in a dark corridor, which looked slightly barren except from a dirty laundry bag which looked vaguely familiar which looked faintly suspicious.

"Well, Potter. I believe you may speak now. Oh, I'm positively bursting with curiosity..."

But before Snape could yawn again he was assaulted by the close sight and sound (not to mention smell) of Harry Once Again Very Angry Potter standing on his (Harry's) tip-toes.

"So, you knew it all along?!"

"Knew what?"

"That I'm your long-lost-and-found son!!!"

...

At this precise moment Harry B. Potter felt that something was terribly wrong... And at the next precise moment he understood WHAT it was that felt so terribly wrong: his whole miserable life...