Chapter Two (Meet Doctor Weird. He's my psychologist... and he's schizophrenic)

'Truth or Dare?'

'Dare.'

'I dare you to... hop around on Voldemort's desk.'

'Hermione?'

'Yes?'

'That was woefully uncreative.'

'Shut up, Harry.'

'Oh, come on, Hermione! It's truth or dare for chrissakes. At least make it a little bit interesting.'

'Okay, fine. I dare you to hop around on the gay wizarding porn magazine in Voldemort's top drawer while singing the song "I'm so pretty." Happy, Harry?'

'Hmm, oh yeah, much. Hehe, come on Snape, we all know that you know the words. You can't fool us.'

Snape slowly squished over to the top drawer of Voldemort's desk, every move conveying his distaste. Quite a feat, since most brains don't have a very good grasp on body language. He reached out one tentacle and the drawer slid open. He made a move to get into the drawer, which was immediately greeted with nay saying shouts from the other brains.

'Severus, you know the rules,' said Dumbledore. Harry was pretty sure that the old brain rather enjoyed torturing the other brains. It was oddly reminiscent of when the brain had still had a bearded body attached, really.

They heard some quiet muttering from Snape. It was two quiet to make out the words, but it was clear that whatever he was saying was giving a new meaning to "vulgar."

Slowly, the magazine was pulled out. Harry heard Ron mutter something about wanking.

It seemed that Ron wasn't dwelling on the fact that he couldn't eat anymore – and considering how focused he had been on it when they'd had bodies, that was quite something – but rather on the "higher" injustice of no longer having a... wand.

The sound of Snape singing brought Harry back to the game.

'I feel pretty, I feel pretty, I feel pretty and witty and gaaay...' Snape sang, badly, as he hopped around half-heartedly on top of Voldemort's porn.

There was something incredibly disturbing about this situation, but Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it.

'Time!' said Dumbledore cheerfully. Snape stopped hopping and just twitched for a moment, obviously trying to rein in his urge to commit... is it still homicide if you're killing off brains? Cerebrocide?

'It's your turn, Severus,' Dumbledore reminded him. Snape twitched more violently.

'Potter.'

'Yes?' said Harry.

'Truth or Dare,' the way Snape said the words made it seem like Snape felt the same way about saying them as he did about voluntarily passing Neville in Potions right after an explosion had died his hair pink and his robes neon yellow. Not that he had to pass anyone in Potions anymore. Half the time Harry thought that even if Snape was allowed to teach the class he would refuse, simply because robes didn't billow properly when a brain wore them.

'Dare.'

'Die,' said Professor Snape venomously.

'Now, Severus, it's only a game,' said Dumbledore. Harry was suddenly very glad that Dumbledore could no longer twinkle at people.

'Yes, Severus,' said Remus Lupin. 'Lighten up.'

'Jump off the desk,' said Snape. By the tone of his voice, he wasn't going to back down any further.

'Alright then,' said Harry, shrugging. Shrugging as a brain was rather interesting. It had the effect of sending all of your tentacles up over the top of you at once, and Harry ended up hitting several people, all of whom exclaimed their displeasure loudly. 'Oops, sorry.' And Harry jumped off the desk, landing with a rather loud, nasty splat!

Didn't hurt too badly. His tentacles had cushioned most of the fall.

There was another splat! near him.

'MERLIN'S EIGHT HAIRY BALLS AND THEIR FOURTY SEVEN MALFORMED CHILDREN, that HURTS!' shouted Tonks, who had not managed to land as... er, gracefully as Harry when she'd accidentally toppled off the desk. It seemed that she was doomed to be clumsy even as a brain.

To make up for it, or perhaps just to relieve boredom, she'd been collecting and making up expletives ever since they'd been separated from their bodies.

Harry found it rather impressive that she'd actually gotten to the point where she used them reflexively. He heard Moody mutter something incoherent and wondered, not for the first time, whether or not Moody's brain was as odd looking as his body had been.

He decided that he really didn't want to know.

Just then Voldemort came back into the room. He paused in the doorway, looking at his desk, taking in the assortment of brains, the now-slimy official documents, and the porn magazine with a very pissed off looking brain sitting on top of it.

The was silence.

Then, "I'm going to leave," said Voldemort, apparently trying to control his urge to blast all the brains into teeny little pieces, "and when I come back in ten minutes, you will all be back in your jars." He left, slamming the door loudly.

Some of the brains giggled nervously.

'Should we do as he says?' asked Tonks.

'Of course we should! Better brains than you have –' that was the last word from Moody that anyone paid any attention to. They'd all heard one of his paranoid lectures before.

Harry shrugged again, this time slapping his own self with several of his tentacles by accident, and started squishing off in the direction of the shelf. Ten minutes was a rather short amount of time to climb back into his jar, but he'd manage.

Hopefully.