Chapter Two
Professor McGonagall was working tediously at her desk, her quill rushing across the parchment. She had so much work to do that it seemed like it would be days before she ever finished. Why was she always loaded down with work? Why couldn't Snape get more? Then she remembered what he did everyday after school to calm his nerves, and shuddered. I mean, she had seen some pretty disturbing things, but stuffing peanut butter in your. well, okay, nevermind. It was just too scary to think about.
As she was writing, she heard her door open, but once she looked up, no one was to be found. She took off her glasses, cleaned them, put them back on, saw a disco fever giraffe with a fro, took the glasses off and cleaned them again, then looked up, but the room seemed empty.
She shrugged and went back to work.
"HEY PROFESSOR, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
The professor let out a girlish shriek, and quickly looked up to find Hermione sitting in front of her. Now, McGonagall was usually swift at figuring things out, but when it came to Hermione, she was always baffled. I mean, Hermione's nose was just so pointy, and sharp, like she could pop balloons or cut cantaloupe.
Still, she had to smile. "Hello, Miss Granger, how are you today?"
Hermione said nothing. She just stared at McGonagall like she had something in her teeth.
"Hermione?"
"Professor, when was the last time you got laid?"
"WHAT?"
"You know, shot the star, got frisky, got you thang on, humped, had sex? Because it just seemed like you've been really lonely lately."
McGonagall's mind raced with thoughts. First she wanted to hit Hermione right smack in the ear, I mean eye, but then again, and she just wanted to tell her the truth about how she was having sex with-
Suddenly Hermione gasped. "Professor! I've heard some sick rumors, but DUMBLEDORE?"
McGonagall gasped. "Miss Granger, this has gone far enough! I insist that you get out!"
"Is it true? Is it really true?" Hermione pleaded.
"Of course not, now out!"
"Then who's," Hermione pointed her finger at the wooden table, "under your desk!"
"No one!"
Hermione let out a crazy noise, sounding like some strange cult scream, and threw the desk over.
Professor Dumbledore sat innocently on the floor, drawing with some crayons.
"Aha!" Hermione screamed. "Is it true, Professor Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore smiled, nodding, and gave out a giddy squeak.
Hermione gasped, McGonagall put her head in her hands, Dumbledore continued to glue macaroni noodles to his paper, and Voldemort won Go Fish.
Once McGonagall sat on the floor in a fetal position, Hermione left the room humming, searching for her next victim.
Suddenly, Harry rushed into the room, his pants dragging behind him. "Professor McGonagall, have you seen Hermione? If you do, don't talk to her!"
McGonagall began to sway back and forth, her thumb in her mouth.
Harry felt weird looking at that.
Uh huh he did.
"Excuse me Dumbledore, but what's wrong with McGonagall?"
Dumbledore's wise gray eyes met Harry's olive green. "Harry, there are so many things that we will never be able to understand. Life has taken you to a new time and place. Things will never be what they seem."
There was silence.
"So," Harry began, "new art?"
Dumbledore smiled, "Oh, yes, this one's quite a piece of work. It's taken me over seven days to make."
More silence.
"Is it two dogs playing Tennis?"
"Harry, it's an ostrich."
"Oh, OHHHH! Yeah, yeah, now I see it."
**To Be Continued in the Next Chapter**
Professor McGonagall was working tediously at her desk, her quill rushing across the parchment. She had so much work to do that it seemed like it would be days before she ever finished. Why was she always loaded down with work? Why couldn't Snape get more? Then she remembered what he did everyday after school to calm his nerves, and shuddered. I mean, she had seen some pretty disturbing things, but stuffing peanut butter in your. well, okay, nevermind. It was just too scary to think about.
As she was writing, she heard her door open, but once she looked up, no one was to be found. She took off her glasses, cleaned them, put them back on, saw a disco fever giraffe with a fro, took the glasses off and cleaned them again, then looked up, but the room seemed empty.
She shrugged and went back to work.
"HEY PROFESSOR, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
The professor let out a girlish shriek, and quickly looked up to find Hermione sitting in front of her. Now, McGonagall was usually swift at figuring things out, but when it came to Hermione, she was always baffled. I mean, Hermione's nose was just so pointy, and sharp, like she could pop balloons or cut cantaloupe.
Still, she had to smile. "Hello, Miss Granger, how are you today?"
Hermione said nothing. She just stared at McGonagall like she had something in her teeth.
"Hermione?"
"Professor, when was the last time you got laid?"
"WHAT?"
"You know, shot the star, got frisky, got you thang on, humped, had sex? Because it just seemed like you've been really lonely lately."
McGonagall's mind raced with thoughts. First she wanted to hit Hermione right smack in the ear, I mean eye, but then again, and she just wanted to tell her the truth about how she was having sex with-
Suddenly Hermione gasped. "Professor! I've heard some sick rumors, but DUMBLEDORE?"
McGonagall gasped. "Miss Granger, this has gone far enough! I insist that you get out!"
"Is it true? Is it really true?" Hermione pleaded.
"Of course not, now out!"
"Then who's," Hermione pointed her finger at the wooden table, "under your desk!"
"No one!"
Hermione let out a crazy noise, sounding like some strange cult scream, and threw the desk over.
Professor Dumbledore sat innocently on the floor, drawing with some crayons.
"Aha!" Hermione screamed. "Is it true, Professor Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore smiled, nodding, and gave out a giddy squeak.
Hermione gasped, McGonagall put her head in her hands, Dumbledore continued to glue macaroni noodles to his paper, and Voldemort won Go Fish.
Once McGonagall sat on the floor in a fetal position, Hermione left the room humming, searching for her next victim.
Suddenly, Harry rushed into the room, his pants dragging behind him. "Professor McGonagall, have you seen Hermione? If you do, don't talk to her!"
McGonagall began to sway back and forth, her thumb in her mouth.
Harry felt weird looking at that.
Uh huh he did.
"Excuse me Dumbledore, but what's wrong with McGonagall?"
Dumbledore's wise gray eyes met Harry's olive green. "Harry, there are so many things that we will never be able to understand. Life has taken you to a new time and place. Things will never be what they seem."
There was silence.
"So," Harry began, "new art?"
Dumbledore smiled, "Oh, yes, this one's quite a piece of work. It's taken me over seven days to make."
More silence.
"Is it two dogs playing Tennis?"
"Harry, it's an ostrich."
"Oh, OHHHH! Yeah, yeah, now I see it."
**To Be Continued in the Next Chapter**