Disclaimer: All characters are property J.K. Rowling; no © infringement intended or profit made.
Notes: Ve haff no notes. Except one -- our knowledge of Islamic holy wars is very scarce -- the below is just our grope for an excuse, so if it doesn't fit...ehn. It's hardly that relevant.
Chapter Two - We Band of Buggered
"Fifteen hundred years ago, there was a similar incident affecting a group of witches and wizards who found themselves caught in the midst of a Muggle holy war in Israel. Their mysterious youth and powers had one side praising them as sacred children -- prophets -- and the other intent on destroying them for what was obviously the work of the Judaists, whom they believed indulged in the most decadent of sins and were inherently evil.
"There is little mention of their lives before the de-aging occurred -- only that most of them had been around a hundred years of age when it happened, and that afterward, though what they accomplished with their powers would today be seen as 'child's play', they did go on to do a great many things for their side of the fight -- astounding acts of heroism, the prevention of mass slaughters, etc. They saw what had happened to them as a gift -- their youth enabling them to have the health and energy needed for their tasks that their previous ages lacked -- and it appears they did age at the normal pace for wizards afterward."
Professor Binns shut the book -- 'When Magic and Muggles Mix: A Historical Overview' -- and looked up at his captive audience, inwardly wishing that his students would show an eighth of the attention to what he said in class as the faculty members did.
Dumbledore leaned against the spectre's desk and took off his pointed hat to run a hand through his hair thoughtfully. He sighed, and next to him, Fudge gave a short, nervous giggle.
"Well then, that was certainly...encouraging," he said, wiping his brow with a handkerchief produced from one of the pockets of his dark blue robes.
"In what way?" Snape muttered. "Did everything he said go in one of your ears and out the other? They never recovered! We cannot afford to simply wait this out as they did."
Fudge shot him an affronted glare. "Now, see here--"
"No, _sir_ -- _you_ see here. You can deny Voldemort's return all you like, but the rest of us do not have the luxury to be so blind -- _war_ is coming, and our bodies are not functioning at their usual magical levels. Lord Voldemort has an obsessive vendetta with Harry Potter; Harry Potter attends this school, which is now vulnerable to attack without the protection of the formidable combined powers of its professors. You can no longer hide behind the headmaster's robes like a snivelling child--"
"Severus, that's enough!" Dumbledore snapped, the usual white heat of power that would radiate from him after such an outburst dulled to a dim candle's worth. Snape glared fiercely, but said nothing more. "We need to think about this rationally and, pardon the irony, like _adults_." He turned to the Minister. "Cornelius, Severus was right about one thing -- war _is_ coming, and Hogwarts is no doubt a prime target of Voldemort's."
"But Albus, surely..." Fudge started to protest, but thought better of it at the six scowls that were suddenly focused on him. "I...can arrange for Aurors to be stationed here, for protection."
"Thank you," said Dumbledore sincerely, a small, grateful smile touching his mouth.
"Wait," McGonagall spoke up, swatting one of her braids over her shoulder in annoyance. "Professor Binns said that the last time this happened, war was going on. Do you think there's some sort of connection...?"
"Possibly..." Dumbledore frowned. "Though there have been many other wars since then -- what would be so special about these specific two?"
"I'll get the Ministry on it at once!" exclaimed Fudge, attempting to regain some stature of the authority he supposedly held. Behind him, Hooch, Vector and Sinistra exchanged glances and rolled their eyes.
Snape had begun to pore through the book Binns had been reading from, and snorted at the passage he was skimming. "Gift, indeed," he grumbled under his breath. "Should have come with a receipt so we could take it back..."
"Oh!" Fleur, who had remained silent until now, suddenly piped up. "Zey viewed it as a gift, non?"
Vector arched a sceptical eyebrow. "A bit slow on the uptake, aren't you?"
Fleur sniffed haughtily and ignored the comment. "What I mean iz, what if it _iz_ a gift? Not just a random magical phenomenon -- what if it was given to us specifically for a purpose, not to weaken us, but to help us?"
"Oh, fat lot of that it's doing," Hooch muttered.
"Now, now, Xiomara -- Miss Delacour may be on to something." Dumbledore smiled kindly at his youngest -- though not quite as much recently -- employee, who beamed proudly.
"Yes," Sinistra murmured, frowning contemplatively.
"Traitor," Vector hissed. Selene elbowed her in the ribs.
"If it _is_ a gift, then it had to have been given to us by something -- or some_one_. If we could find them, then we might be able to convince them to reverse what's happened."
"But how would we locate them?" Black asked.
Hooch scratched the back of her neck and thought for a moment. "Well...they've gotta be powerful, and possibly quite old...my guess is at or near a place of ancient magic -- Stonehenge, Staigue Fort, Giants Causeway, Giza..."
Fudge cleared his throat. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, now..."
"Pardon our temerity, Minister Fudge," said McGonagall, forcing a thin smile. "This...situation...has been cause for much anxiety. What do _you_ propose we do?"
The Minister of Magic looked questioningly to Dumbledore, who merely motioned for him to speak.
"Yes, Cornelius. I, too, am curious as to how you plan on handling this."
"Well, I..." Fudge floundered, searching each surrounding face for help and finding none. "That is to say, the Ministry will...will take care of things. Yes. I have every confidence of that."
"The cheese stands alone," Black muttered under his breath, earning a small snort of laughter from Vector.
Sensing that he was fighting a losing battle, Fudge cleared his throat yet again and did his best to project an aura of confidence. "In fact, I should have them begin working on a solution immediately. I will, of course, inform you if anything of importance surfaces. Until then, I recommend you all live your lives as normally as possible."
"I do believe that's easier said than done," Dumbledore sighed resignedly. "Come, Cornelius. I'll walk you out."
They left, and the remaining teenagers glanced at each other as if to ask, "Now what?"
"So..." said Black, "Hagrid and Croft back yet?"
"Dunno," said Hooch. "Haven't seen 'em."
"Think we should check around for them? Just to...make sure they're all right?"
"I think we should," said Vector. "I think we should comb the castle first. Because we're worried and whatnot."
Sinistra nodded. "Worried. About them."
"Mm-hm."
Snape snorted in disgust and started for the door. "Leave discretion to those who are actually possessed of the ability to use it correctly. Come on, hurry up, before the ale turns to vinegar or Hagrid finishes it off."
The thought of the half-giant imbibing the majority of their precious alcohol caused a collective shiver of fright to pass through the group, and they wasted no time before following the Potions master out of the room.
~*~
"How could you do something like this? Have you no shame? No conscience? I didn't think _you_ of all people could be so cruel!"
"I'm sorry! I just...I didn't think--"
"No, you didn't think! And who's suffering the consequences? We are, that's who!"
"Selene, quit harping at Poppy and have a bloody drink already," Hooch called from the table that had been vacated of bandages in favour of booze.
They'd found Hagrid, Croft and a small portion of the Three Broomsticks' liquor supply, along with a half-drunken Pomfrey and Sprout in the hospital wing. The back of the table contained the milder concoctions -- butterbeer, mead and the like -- and a good-sized dent had been made in the harder things at the front -- scotch, whiskey, vodka, brandy, tequila -- Madam Rosmerta, it was unanimously agreed upon, had been more than generous.
Shooting one last annoyed scowl at Pomfrey, Sinistra made her way over to Hooch, who held a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey in one hand a bottle of Viridian's Vicious Vodka in the other, the latter of which she promptly passed over to the Astronomy professor. Sinistra opened it and took a swig, then grimaced and shuddered until a look of euphoria settled on her face.
"Ah, that's the stuff."
On one of the beds, Sprout and Croft were doing tequila shots, and on the floor near them, Black had joined in a game of tiddlywinks played with Sickles and glasses of scotch with, surprisingly enough, Filch and Pince. McGonagall lingered watching on the sidelines with a small glass of sherry, trying to look disapproving but eventually giving it up and joining in.
She sank her first Sickle with ease, and tossed back the scotch as though it were water. Sirius looked impressed.
"Damn, McG. Didn't know you had it in you."
"I'm a Scot, Mr. Black. To not 'have it in me' would be an insult to my family."
In a corner, Snape slouched down on the floor, leaning against a wall and grumpily nursing a bottle of brandy. Abandoning Hooch and Vector, Sinistra went over and sat down next to him, gesturing to him with the vodka bottle.
"Trade?" she offered, and he relented, taking a gulp of the clear liquor and then grimacing.
"How can you prefer _this_ to brandy? It tastes like wound-cleaning potion smells."
She shrugged. "I like it."
"Women. I daresay I'll never understand your mutated palettes."
"Well, good. There should be at least _one_ concept you can't wrap that bloated brain of yours around."
He snorted, and for a few moments, there was silence (along with the odd swishy gulp here and there). "Selene."
"You haven't forgotten my name yet? Drink more, Sev."
He glared.
"--erus," she finished with a sly smirk. "What is it?"
"I...I feel I should apologise for my earlier conduct. It was...inconsiderate of me to..."
"Be a snappish ass?"
"If you want to boil it down to its least eloquent form, yes."
"Accepted. Thank you."
He took another drink and grimaced again before snatching back his brandy and dropping the vodka in her lap. She laughed at his expression just as Dumbledore strode into the hospital wing -- and straight over to the liquor table.
"Hangovers will not exempt you from teaching your classes tomorrow," he informed them all before mixing a combination of alcohol that couldn't have possibly been meant for human consumption, conjuring a little pink umbrella, and downing it in one mighty gulp. Sinistra shuddered for him.
"That man never ceases to amaze me."
~*~
Two hours later, dawn was beginning to peek over the horizon, streaming thin, murky rays of grey light into the candlelit room. Bodies littered the floor and beds, as standing became something of a problem about an hour previous. Sprout and Croft had both passed out where they'd been sitting, feet in each other's faces. Fleur was dozing regally in the bed next to theirs. Hagrid was snoring peacefully on the floor near them, using one massive arm and an empty bottle of mead for a pillow. Trelawney, who had 'seen staggering clowns' in her crystal ball and come down to join them was snoozing against his back.
Those still conscious were clustered at the other end of the room. Dumbledore was leaning sedately against the raised head of a bed, McGonagall next to him with her head at the foot, on her stomach with her legs swinging in the air and fading fast. Vector and Hooch sat on the floor with their backs to each other, propping themselves up. Black, Pince and Filch were still flicking Sickles into glasses now filled with water in an attempt to avoid ghastly hangovers, and Sinistra had stretched out on the floor with her head resting on a drowsy Snape's crossed shins.
"Five Galleons says the Minishtry's not gonna find a cure for this for twenty years, when nobody gives a flying fuck anymore," Hooch slurred. McGonagall, who'd gotten passed the betting chart sometime around the Which Student's Death Will Sibyll Predict THIS Year pool, took the pad out of her pocket and scribbled down the wager.
"Tell me about it," Black grumbled. "Hell, _we_ could do a better job of tracking down whoever did this..."
Snape arched a lazy eyebrow. "For once, Black, I have to agree with you."
"As do I," sighed Dumbledore, "as do I..." He frowned. "In fact..."
McGonagall twisted around to look at him. "Oh, no. I've seen that look before. Albus..."
"It's worth a try, anyway," the headmaster continued, ignoring her, already off in his own little Minerva-free world. "It couldn't make matters worse, at least..."
"Albus, no! You _can't_ be serious!"
"She's right, you know," said Black. "There's only room for one of us."
"Thank the gods," Vector muttered.
"Hear, hear!" said Snape, raising his nigh-empty brandy bottle to the Arithmancy professor in a toast.
Dumbledore had yet to return to their plain of existence. "And as Sirius and Severus were so kind to volunteer..."
Two heads snapped in his direction.
"Volunteer?" Black asked.
"For what?" added Snape.
"To track down the cause of our magical malady, of course. Sirius, you're a half-blood, you know the Muggle world -- and Severus, you're nearly as learned as Lara in ancient relics and runes, and your knowledge of potions and curses _would_ come in handy were either of you to encounter any medical trouble--"
Black held up his hands. "Hold on -- stop the train before it wrecks -- just what exactly are you saying, Professor?"
"Whatever it is," Snape interrupted, "it had better not involve myself working with you in any context other than our employment at this school."
"Oh, but it does, Severus, it does," Dumbledore nodded, a frighteningly manic twinkle in his eye. "You and Sirius are going to find out who did this, locate them, and convince them to change us back."
"You're drunk, sir," said Filch, not even glancing up from his game.
"A little tipsy, mayhaps," Dumbledore conceded, "but not drunk, no."
"Then you're daft," mumbled Vector.
"Victoria, you could go as well--"
She paled.
"--a sort of calming female influence, to make sure they don't kill each other and cause more problems than they're meant to be solving."
"Oh, sir, I really don't think that's wise -- I've gotta say, if Snape doesn't end up killing Black, _I_ very well might."
"You always hurt the ones you love," Black sneered, and leapt back when Vector lunged for him. Unfortunately, she was hindered by Hooch's death-grip on her shoulders -- the woman hadn't become a renowned Quidditch Seeker by being slow -- and was reduced to muttering obscenities that would have had Ron Weasley taking down notes for future insults.
"This is outrageous!" Snape shouted. Hagrid grunted at the sudden noise and rolled over on his other side -- and consequentially on top of Trelawney, who squeaked and somehow managed to wriggle upper torso free before falling back to sleep. "Who's going to teach our classes?"
"Substitutes, other teachers...it shouldn't be too difficult to arrange something -- Poppy knows a thing or two about potion-making; she could take over your students temporarily. And Irma--" The librarian looked up at the sound of her name. "--I know you've always been rather adept at Arithmancy."
"Albus, honestly, are you certain this is wise?" McGonagall asked, her forehead creased with worry lines that would become permanent later on in her life.
"My dear, I am always certain."
"And if we don't agree?" demanded Snape.
"Then...I suppose you'll just have to place your faith in the Ministry's capabilities. Though, Severus, I never figured you that big of a fool."
That did it. He'd insulted Snape's intelligence -- now there was nothing left for the proud man to do but prove him wrong.
Snape seethed silently for a few moments before focusing his scowl on Black. "All right. I'll go. But only if _he_ makes an effort to not be the stupid git we all know and despise."
"Ooh! Ooh!" Vector exclaimed. "My condition's the same as his!"
Dumbledore only smiled, and looked to Black. "Sirius, do you promise not to be a stupid git?"
"Me?! But -- _they_ --"
"Humour me, Sirius."
Black glared down at the water glass as Filch snapped another Sickle into it. "...Ipromisenottobeagit. But _they've_ gotta swear not to be pillocks!"
"Very well. Victoria, Severus?"
They swore (well, sort of -- Vector garbled all the words except 'pillock', which she practically yelled in Black's direction, and Snape's was in a form of old Latin only Dumbledore could understand), and the matter was finished. Almost.
Sinistra sighed, a smug, languid smile on her face. "Poor Vic and Severus. You both know I'd take your place if given the chance, but seeing as how you've both already sworn..."
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose mischievously. "Actually, Selene..."
"Oh, bloody hell! No!"
"Yes."
"All right, then what for, hm? I'm not going unless my presence on this little quest has a valid reason." She nodded in a 'hmph, so there' sort of way and folded her arms over her chest.
"Well...let's see..." said Vector, fully intent on making sure that if she had to suffer, Sinistra was going to bear the pain with her. Suddenly, she snapped her fingers.
"Eureka?" Black asked.
"I have found it!" she exclaimed. "You watch the stars, right? We're bound to be going places that haven't been explored in maybe centuries -- your job is to watch the stars and make sure we don't get lost."
Sinistra gaped at her. "And you call _me_ a traitor? Just do a bloody Point Me spell!"
"That'll give us directions, yeah, but it won't tell us where we _are_. We need you. You're coming."
Sinistra's eyes widened in panic. She glanced helplessly around the room, finally settling on Hooch, giving the hawk-eyed girl her best "For the love of god, save me!" face, but to no avail.
"Don't look at me -- you dug your own grave."
Dumbledore clapped his hands twice, a ridiculous grin stretching across his mouth. "Then it's settled. Everyone note that Professors Black, Snape, Sinistra and Vector are embarking on a noble journey, first thing tomorrow! Er -- today!"
"Today?!"
"Today. Pack your bags, young ones -- a'hunting you shall go."
"I think I might cry."
"I think I might wretch."
"We noble few."
"We band of buggered."
~*~
End Act Two. Act Three -- "Road trip?" "Road trip."
Wow, large positive response to this one. We must thank Laura Beth, Anya Levvy, sapphireskies, Lataradk, Silver*Chime, Tess, bluemeanies, Indarae, Elspeth (there IS a reason for them all being reduced to the same age -- that comes later :), katie, Alchemine (whom I'll (Veruka) address at the bottom, 'cause response is lengthy), Daniz, NiKitKat, Dahlia (I knew I'd heard that phrase somewhere before... ;), and Nai. *wipes brow* Thank you, thanks, ta, danka, gracias, merci. :)
And to Alchemine: Girls usually do mature faster...hm. Was basing it on my freak self -- I grew like a weed until about six months ago, when I finally stopped at five-ten, so I was a few inches shorter at fifteen. Faith reckons she stopped about then, too, but I think she was just abnormally slow. I'm invoking my artistic license -- wizards live longer than normal humans, who's to say they might not age a tad slower than Muggles? McGonagall seems a bit spritely for seventy, after all, and Dumbledore...'nuff said. ;) So. Yeah. Thassit.
Notes: Ve haff no notes. Except one -- our knowledge of Islamic holy wars is very scarce -- the below is just our grope for an excuse, so if it doesn't fit...ehn. It's hardly that relevant.
Chapter Two - We Band of Buggered
"Fifteen hundred years ago, there was a similar incident affecting a group of witches and wizards who found themselves caught in the midst of a Muggle holy war in Israel. Their mysterious youth and powers had one side praising them as sacred children -- prophets -- and the other intent on destroying them for what was obviously the work of the Judaists, whom they believed indulged in the most decadent of sins and were inherently evil.
"There is little mention of their lives before the de-aging occurred -- only that most of them had been around a hundred years of age when it happened, and that afterward, though what they accomplished with their powers would today be seen as 'child's play', they did go on to do a great many things for their side of the fight -- astounding acts of heroism, the prevention of mass slaughters, etc. They saw what had happened to them as a gift -- their youth enabling them to have the health and energy needed for their tasks that their previous ages lacked -- and it appears they did age at the normal pace for wizards afterward."
Professor Binns shut the book -- 'When Magic and Muggles Mix: A Historical Overview' -- and looked up at his captive audience, inwardly wishing that his students would show an eighth of the attention to what he said in class as the faculty members did.
Dumbledore leaned against the spectre's desk and took off his pointed hat to run a hand through his hair thoughtfully. He sighed, and next to him, Fudge gave a short, nervous giggle.
"Well then, that was certainly...encouraging," he said, wiping his brow with a handkerchief produced from one of the pockets of his dark blue robes.
"In what way?" Snape muttered. "Did everything he said go in one of your ears and out the other? They never recovered! We cannot afford to simply wait this out as they did."
Fudge shot him an affronted glare. "Now, see here--"
"No, _sir_ -- _you_ see here. You can deny Voldemort's return all you like, but the rest of us do not have the luxury to be so blind -- _war_ is coming, and our bodies are not functioning at their usual magical levels. Lord Voldemort has an obsessive vendetta with Harry Potter; Harry Potter attends this school, which is now vulnerable to attack without the protection of the formidable combined powers of its professors. You can no longer hide behind the headmaster's robes like a snivelling child--"
"Severus, that's enough!" Dumbledore snapped, the usual white heat of power that would radiate from him after such an outburst dulled to a dim candle's worth. Snape glared fiercely, but said nothing more. "We need to think about this rationally and, pardon the irony, like _adults_." He turned to the Minister. "Cornelius, Severus was right about one thing -- war _is_ coming, and Hogwarts is no doubt a prime target of Voldemort's."
"But Albus, surely..." Fudge started to protest, but thought better of it at the six scowls that were suddenly focused on him. "I...can arrange for Aurors to be stationed here, for protection."
"Thank you," said Dumbledore sincerely, a small, grateful smile touching his mouth.
"Wait," McGonagall spoke up, swatting one of her braids over her shoulder in annoyance. "Professor Binns said that the last time this happened, war was going on. Do you think there's some sort of connection...?"
"Possibly..." Dumbledore frowned. "Though there have been many other wars since then -- what would be so special about these specific two?"
"I'll get the Ministry on it at once!" exclaimed Fudge, attempting to regain some stature of the authority he supposedly held. Behind him, Hooch, Vector and Sinistra exchanged glances and rolled their eyes.
Snape had begun to pore through the book Binns had been reading from, and snorted at the passage he was skimming. "Gift, indeed," he grumbled under his breath. "Should have come with a receipt so we could take it back..."
"Oh!" Fleur, who had remained silent until now, suddenly piped up. "Zey viewed it as a gift, non?"
Vector arched a sceptical eyebrow. "A bit slow on the uptake, aren't you?"
Fleur sniffed haughtily and ignored the comment. "What I mean iz, what if it _iz_ a gift? Not just a random magical phenomenon -- what if it was given to us specifically for a purpose, not to weaken us, but to help us?"
"Oh, fat lot of that it's doing," Hooch muttered.
"Now, now, Xiomara -- Miss Delacour may be on to something." Dumbledore smiled kindly at his youngest -- though not quite as much recently -- employee, who beamed proudly.
"Yes," Sinistra murmured, frowning contemplatively.
"Traitor," Vector hissed. Selene elbowed her in the ribs.
"If it _is_ a gift, then it had to have been given to us by something -- or some_one_. If we could find them, then we might be able to convince them to reverse what's happened."
"But how would we locate them?" Black asked.
Hooch scratched the back of her neck and thought for a moment. "Well...they've gotta be powerful, and possibly quite old...my guess is at or near a place of ancient magic -- Stonehenge, Staigue Fort, Giants Causeway, Giza..."
Fudge cleared his throat. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, now..."
"Pardon our temerity, Minister Fudge," said McGonagall, forcing a thin smile. "This...situation...has been cause for much anxiety. What do _you_ propose we do?"
The Minister of Magic looked questioningly to Dumbledore, who merely motioned for him to speak.
"Yes, Cornelius. I, too, am curious as to how you plan on handling this."
"Well, I..." Fudge floundered, searching each surrounding face for help and finding none. "That is to say, the Ministry will...will take care of things. Yes. I have every confidence of that."
"The cheese stands alone," Black muttered under his breath, earning a small snort of laughter from Vector.
Sensing that he was fighting a losing battle, Fudge cleared his throat yet again and did his best to project an aura of confidence. "In fact, I should have them begin working on a solution immediately. I will, of course, inform you if anything of importance surfaces. Until then, I recommend you all live your lives as normally as possible."
"I do believe that's easier said than done," Dumbledore sighed resignedly. "Come, Cornelius. I'll walk you out."
They left, and the remaining teenagers glanced at each other as if to ask, "Now what?"
"So..." said Black, "Hagrid and Croft back yet?"
"Dunno," said Hooch. "Haven't seen 'em."
"Think we should check around for them? Just to...make sure they're all right?"
"I think we should," said Vector. "I think we should comb the castle first. Because we're worried and whatnot."
Sinistra nodded. "Worried. About them."
"Mm-hm."
Snape snorted in disgust and started for the door. "Leave discretion to those who are actually possessed of the ability to use it correctly. Come on, hurry up, before the ale turns to vinegar or Hagrid finishes it off."
The thought of the half-giant imbibing the majority of their precious alcohol caused a collective shiver of fright to pass through the group, and they wasted no time before following the Potions master out of the room.
~*~
"How could you do something like this? Have you no shame? No conscience? I didn't think _you_ of all people could be so cruel!"
"I'm sorry! I just...I didn't think--"
"No, you didn't think! And who's suffering the consequences? We are, that's who!"
"Selene, quit harping at Poppy and have a bloody drink already," Hooch called from the table that had been vacated of bandages in favour of booze.
They'd found Hagrid, Croft and a small portion of the Three Broomsticks' liquor supply, along with a half-drunken Pomfrey and Sprout in the hospital wing. The back of the table contained the milder concoctions -- butterbeer, mead and the like -- and a good-sized dent had been made in the harder things at the front -- scotch, whiskey, vodka, brandy, tequila -- Madam Rosmerta, it was unanimously agreed upon, had been more than generous.
Shooting one last annoyed scowl at Pomfrey, Sinistra made her way over to Hooch, who held a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey in one hand a bottle of Viridian's Vicious Vodka in the other, the latter of which she promptly passed over to the Astronomy professor. Sinistra opened it and took a swig, then grimaced and shuddered until a look of euphoria settled on her face.
"Ah, that's the stuff."
On one of the beds, Sprout and Croft were doing tequila shots, and on the floor near them, Black had joined in a game of tiddlywinks played with Sickles and glasses of scotch with, surprisingly enough, Filch and Pince. McGonagall lingered watching on the sidelines with a small glass of sherry, trying to look disapproving but eventually giving it up and joining in.
She sank her first Sickle with ease, and tossed back the scotch as though it were water. Sirius looked impressed.
"Damn, McG. Didn't know you had it in you."
"I'm a Scot, Mr. Black. To not 'have it in me' would be an insult to my family."
In a corner, Snape slouched down on the floor, leaning against a wall and grumpily nursing a bottle of brandy. Abandoning Hooch and Vector, Sinistra went over and sat down next to him, gesturing to him with the vodka bottle.
"Trade?" she offered, and he relented, taking a gulp of the clear liquor and then grimacing.
"How can you prefer _this_ to brandy? It tastes like wound-cleaning potion smells."
She shrugged. "I like it."
"Women. I daresay I'll never understand your mutated palettes."
"Well, good. There should be at least _one_ concept you can't wrap that bloated brain of yours around."
He snorted, and for a few moments, there was silence (along with the odd swishy gulp here and there). "Selene."
"You haven't forgotten my name yet? Drink more, Sev."
He glared.
"--erus," she finished with a sly smirk. "What is it?"
"I...I feel I should apologise for my earlier conduct. It was...inconsiderate of me to..."
"Be a snappish ass?"
"If you want to boil it down to its least eloquent form, yes."
"Accepted. Thank you."
He took another drink and grimaced again before snatching back his brandy and dropping the vodka in her lap. She laughed at his expression just as Dumbledore strode into the hospital wing -- and straight over to the liquor table.
"Hangovers will not exempt you from teaching your classes tomorrow," he informed them all before mixing a combination of alcohol that couldn't have possibly been meant for human consumption, conjuring a little pink umbrella, and downing it in one mighty gulp. Sinistra shuddered for him.
"That man never ceases to amaze me."
~*~
Two hours later, dawn was beginning to peek over the horizon, streaming thin, murky rays of grey light into the candlelit room. Bodies littered the floor and beds, as standing became something of a problem about an hour previous. Sprout and Croft had both passed out where they'd been sitting, feet in each other's faces. Fleur was dozing regally in the bed next to theirs. Hagrid was snoring peacefully on the floor near them, using one massive arm and an empty bottle of mead for a pillow. Trelawney, who had 'seen staggering clowns' in her crystal ball and come down to join them was snoozing against his back.
Those still conscious were clustered at the other end of the room. Dumbledore was leaning sedately against the raised head of a bed, McGonagall next to him with her head at the foot, on her stomach with her legs swinging in the air and fading fast. Vector and Hooch sat on the floor with their backs to each other, propping themselves up. Black, Pince and Filch were still flicking Sickles into glasses now filled with water in an attempt to avoid ghastly hangovers, and Sinistra had stretched out on the floor with her head resting on a drowsy Snape's crossed shins.
"Five Galleons says the Minishtry's not gonna find a cure for this for twenty years, when nobody gives a flying fuck anymore," Hooch slurred. McGonagall, who'd gotten passed the betting chart sometime around the Which Student's Death Will Sibyll Predict THIS Year pool, took the pad out of her pocket and scribbled down the wager.
"Tell me about it," Black grumbled. "Hell, _we_ could do a better job of tracking down whoever did this..."
Snape arched a lazy eyebrow. "For once, Black, I have to agree with you."
"As do I," sighed Dumbledore, "as do I..." He frowned. "In fact..."
McGonagall twisted around to look at him. "Oh, no. I've seen that look before. Albus..."
"It's worth a try, anyway," the headmaster continued, ignoring her, already off in his own little Minerva-free world. "It couldn't make matters worse, at least..."
"Albus, no! You _can't_ be serious!"
"She's right, you know," said Black. "There's only room for one of us."
"Thank the gods," Vector muttered.
"Hear, hear!" said Snape, raising his nigh-empty brandy bottle to the Arithmancy professor in a toast.
Dumbledore had yet to return to their plain of existence. "And as Sirius and Severus were so kind to volunteer..."
Two heads snapped in his direction.
"Volunteer?" Black asked.
"For what?" added Snape.
"To track down the cause of our magical malady, of course. Sirius, you're a half-blood, you know the Muggle world -- and Severus, you're nearly as learned as Lara in ancient relics and runes, and your knowledge of potions and curses _would_ come in handy were either of you to encounter any medical trouble--"
Black held up his hands. "Hold on -- stop the train before it wrecks -- just what exactly are you saying, Professor?"
"Whatever it is," Snape interrupted, "it had better not involve myself working with you in any context other than our employment at this school."
"Oh, but it does, Severus, it does," Dumbledore nodded, a frighteningly manic twinkle in his eye. "You and Sirius are going to find out who did this, locate them, and convince them to change us back."
"You're drunk, sir," said Filch, not even glancing up from his game.
"A little tipsy, mayhaps," Dumbledore conceded, "but not drunk, no."
"Then you're daft," mumbled Vector.
"Victoria, you could go as well--"
She paled.
"--a sort of calming female influence, to make sure they don't kill each other and cause more problems than they're meant to be solving."
"Oh, sir, I really don't think that's wise -- I've gotta say, if Snape doesn't end up killing Black, _I_ very well might."
"You always hurt the ones you love," Black sneered, and leapt back when Vector lunged for him. Unfortunately, she was hindered by Hooch's death-grip on her shoulders -- the woman hadn't become a renowned Quidditch Seeker by being slow -- and was reduced to muttering obscenities that would have had Ron Weasley taking down notes for future insults.
"This is outrageous!" Snape shouted. Hagrid grunted at the sudden noise and rolled over on his other side -- and consequentially on top of Trelawney, who squeaked and somehow managed to wriggle upper torso free before falling back to sleep. "Who's going to teach our classes?"
"Substitutes, other teachers...it shouldn't be too difficult to arrange something -- Poppy knows a thing or two about potion-making; she could take over your students temporarily. And Irma--" The librarian looked up at the sound of her name. "--I know you've always been rather adept at Arithmancy."
"Albus, honestly, are you certain this is wise?" McGonagall asked, her forehead creased with worry lines that would become permanent later on in her life.
"My dear, I am always certain."
"And if we don't agree?" demanded Snape.
"Then...I suppose you'll just have to place your faith in the Ministry's capabilities. Though, Severus, I never figured you that big of a fool."
That did it. He'd insulted Snape's intelligence -- now there was nothing left for the proud man to do but prove him wrong.
Snape seethed silently for a few moments before focusing his scowl on Black. "All right. I'll go. But only if _he_ makes an effort to not be the stupid git we all know and despise."
"Ooh! Ooh!" Vector exclaimed. "My condition's the same as his!"
Dumbledore only smiled, and looked to Black. "Sirius, do you promise not to be a stupid git?"
"Me?! But -- _they_ --"
"Humour me, Sirius."
Black glared down at the water glass as Filch snapped another Sickle into it. "...Ipromisenottobeagit. But _they've_ gotta swear not to be pillocks!"
"Very well. Victoria, Severus?"
They swore (well, sort of -- Vector garbled all the words except 'pillock', which she practically yelled in Black's direction, and Snape's was in a form of old Latin only Dumbledore could understand), and the matter was finished. Almost.
Sinistra sighed, a smug, languid smile on her face. "Poor Vic and Severus. You both know I'd take your place if given the chance, but seeing as how you've both already sworn..."
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose mischievously. "Actually, Selene..."
"Oh, bloody hell! No!"
"Yes."
"All right, then what for, hm? I'm not going unless my presence on this little quest has a valid reason." She nodded in a 'hmph, so there' sort of way and folded her arms over her chest.
"Well...let's see..." said Vector, fully intent on making sure that if she had to suffer, Sinistra was going to bear the pain with her. Suddenly, she snapped her fingers.
"Eureka?" Black asked.
"I have found it!" she exclaimed. "You watch the stars, right? We're bound to be going places that haven't been explored in maybe centuries -- your job is to watch the stars and make sure we don't get lost."
Sinistra gaped at her. "And you call _me_ a traitor? Just do a bloody Point Me spell!"
"That'll give us directions, yeah, but it won't tell us where we _are_. We need you. You're coming."
Sinistra's eyes widened in panic. She glanced helplessly around the room, finally settling on Hooch, giving the hawk-eyed girl her best "For the love of god, save me!" face, but to no avail.
"Don't look at me -- you dug your own grave."
Dumbledore clapped his hands twice, a ridiculous grin stretching across his mouth. "Then it's settled. Everyone note that Professors Black, Snape, Sinistra and Vector are embarking on a noble journey, first thing tomorrow! Er -- today!"
"Today?!"
"Today. Pack your bags, young ones -- a'hunting you shall go."
"I think I might cry."
"I think I might wretch."
"We noble few."
"We band of buggered."
~*~
End Act Two. Act Three -- "Road trip?" "Road trip."
Wow, large positive response to this one. We must thank Laura Beth, Anya Levvy, sapphireskies, Lataradk, Silver*Chime, Tess, bluemeanies, Indarae, Elspeth (there IS a reason for them all being reduced to the same age -- that comes later :), katie, Alchemine (whom I'll (Veruka) address at the bottom, 'cause response is lengthy), Daniz, NiKitKat, Dahlia (I knew I'd heard that phrase somewhere before... ;), and Nai. *wipes brow* Thank you, thanks, ta, danka, gracias, merci. :)
And to Alchemine: Girls usually do mature faster...hm. Was basing it on my freak self -- I grew like a weed until about six months ago, when I finally stopped at five-ten, so I was a few inches shorter at fifteen. Faith reckons she stopped about then, too, but I think she was just abnormally slow. I'm invoking my artistic license -- wizards live longer than normal humans, who's to say they might not age a tad slower than Muggles? McGonagall seems a bit spritely for seventy, after all, and Dumbledore...'nuff said. ;) So. Yeah. Thassit.