Snapshot 4: To Drown a Serpent

The Camera found itself grudgingly conceding that this school did hold a great many photography opportunities. Not that it wasn't doing a far better job than Colin could ever hope for, mind. But between taking choice memories of Professor Dumbledore and Professor Sinistra as they exchanged a conjured bouquet that began to wilt as soon as it left the Headmaster's hand and an extra-large box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, trying to insult the Thaums' singer into speaking, and laughing at Flitwick's tiny form clinging to Hagrid for dear life as they whirled about the Great Hall, it began to see the reason for the boy's over-awed obsessiveness.

The Camera found itself nearing the raised platform again, only to be knocked over by Hagrid's great boot as he came twirling part. Before it could get up again it was swept up in a familiar satin skirt. After a brief flash of blue satin and stockings the Camera managed to struggle out of the material tent, blushing faintly but also wearing a smug, satisfied smirk. It quickly scurried away to the relative safety of a table, and began to put into practice the noble art of eavesdropping.

'It's sad really, isn't it? All theshe, theshe men around here but no real lookers...' The familiar voice of McGonagall sighed.

'That's right, shister. Pity we aren't young again...there's quite a few in the gen-gen...main shtudent body.'

'Sybil!'

'What? Think that jusht cause I spend all my time in a tower I don't know a cutie when I shee one? That's, that's pred-pred...what's the word again? I forgot...Oh...biased. That's what you are...biashed.'

'Hmmm...you know, if Shnape bothered to wash his hair once in a while he wouldn't look half-good.'

'You mean half-bad?'

'No...half-good. Same thing, ain't it?'

'I can't remember. You'd never manage to convinshe him to do it though. I think he uses the grease to shine his cauldrons...'

'Who said we'd be convincing him? Why don't we...what's the phrase? Oh yes...take him by force...'

There was the faint rustling of cloth against cloth, and the Camera chanced a peek out. The two sottish women were heading towards their target with two buckets full of soapy water that they had somehow acquired, and both were giggling quietly. The Camera turned to focus on the man they were heading towards. He was sitting at an isolated table resting his head on folded hands and looking thoroughly put out. The Camera decided to take pity on the man, and opened it's shutter to shout out a warning. It was too late though, and the two sodding drunk women had dumped the buckets of water over the Professor. He gave an almighty shout and jumped to his feet, the suds dripping from him and the two female professors promptly burst into a fit of hysterical giggles. He narrowed his eyes at them.

'If you do not apologise and cease this idiotic display right now I'll transfigure you both into bars of soap and use you!' He growled, pulling himself up haughtily. Professor Trelawney blinked muggily at him.

'Earlier this evening I foresaw myself rubbing up against your wet skin,' she proclaimed, taking a step towards him and smiling in what she obviously thought was a seductive manner. The Potions Master turned a sickly shade of green and staggered away from them, drying himself with a quick word as he did so. Perhaps because of the noise of the clock striking ten--more probably because of the awful mental pictures caused by Trelawney's remark—Professor McGonagall seemed to have snapped out of her stupor for a moment, and was glaring at Professor Trelawney.

'What do you think you're doing? He's mine!'

'Is not! I saw him first!'

'How could you have? I've been here far longer than you, and I was here when he first took on the job!'

'Exactly! You're so old he'd probably die if he saw you naked!'

'Why you...!'

The Camera ran towards them and positioned itself quickly, closing it's shutter just as McGonagall dived at Professor Trelawney and grabbed a handful of her hair. Yes, this school had definite potential...

—CLICK!—