Disclaimer: Not one tiny shred of the basic plot/characters/etc. is mine. OK? Are you happy now?
(Note: Bits in italics are dreams, *asterisks are thoughts* and #hashes are song lyrics, singing, etc.#)
Chapter 7: The Plot Thickens As Snape Goes Mad
Harry was of course deeply depressed by his most recent dream. But he knew what would sort it.
Butterbeer! He hopped down the stairs, and checked his watch along the way. Seven am. Goody. Two hours of drinking until lessons, the first being Potions (groan). He found a bottle of butterbeer that someone had left half full and drained it. Then he realized there wasn't any more.
Without bothering to dress, he threw his robes on and ran to the Great Hall. As he entered, the whole hall froze. The only sound was Neville reaching for the pumpkin juice. Then Malfoy saw sense and made kissing noises until someone cast a body-lock spell on him. Probably Dumbledore.
Harry sat down and reached for the pumpkin juice and took a long slug of it. He glanced round the table – Neville looked nervous, Hermione looked absorbed in her book (Potions For The Precocious Wizard volume III), Ron was sleepily eating toast and trying (and failing) to understand Hermione's book, and Seamus was just being Seamus – ie, eating. Eating lots.
There was no butterbeer. *Oh well* he thought. *I can live without.* Then he remembered that Potions was first, and went off to find some more at Hagrid's.
"Hello, students," Snape said with a strange gleam in his eye. He looked… different. He looked happy. The students gazed in shock at him and he started singing…
#I want to break free! I want to break free! I want to break free from you lives, you're so -# then he stopped and rolled his eyes three times. He drooled. And asked them to open their books at page 32. Now. This instant. Or they'd get a fortnight's detention.
"Is it me or is Snape going mad?" Harry whispered to Hermione next to him.
"He seems to be suffering from some sort of nervous breakdown," she whispered back as Snape drew a naked Dumbledore on the blackboard, his fingers working feverishly. He finished, stood back and admired his work. Hermione shot an eraser charm on his rude bits (drawing of Dumbledore, not Snape) and Pavarti squealed in protest. She blushed and covered her mouth.
None of the students worked. They were all watching Snape as he drew a whole menagerie of naked teachers, with him at the front. Hermione shot an eraser charm on all of them and received a fortnight's detention from Snape.
Something was definitely up.
"He drew them? That's not too bad," Ron said (he wasn't in their potions class – he gave up as soon as possible.)
"He drew them… naked, Ron. Naked. Ugh," said Hermione shuddering. "I'm mentally scarred forever."
"NAKED?!"
"Naked."
"Shit," said Ron. He grinned. "Did he do McGonagall?"
"Shove off, pillock," Harry moaned, swiping at him with his ever-present Charms homework.
"Well… what's wrong with him?"
"Old age," Hermione said lazily. "He's used magical surgery to retain his youthful good looks," she said.
Harry and Ron stared at her.
"To retain his looks," she amended, "and it does have side effects. Madness, if you leave it long enough. God, he must be about… oh, I don't know. 167…"
"As I suspected," Harry said, stroking his chin, while Ron cracked up.
"Got to go," Hermione said. "Library," she got up and kissed them both on the cheek and left. Nobody noticed Neville in the corner, wearing a look of pure malevolence.
So Harry still had a problem. He wanted McGonagall. McGonagall wanted Dumbledore. Dumbledore wanted Harry to shove off.
He did a lot of thinking that night. Should he go for it and ruin his teacher's life? Or should he leave it and go insane… like Snape?
Harry was acting out Swan Lake. He pirouetted, he gracefully slid across stage.
He was wearing a pink tutu.
McGonagall was dancing with him. They acted out a love scene, looking with yeaning into each other's eyes…
*Wow, she's beautiful. I love her more than ever…* he thought.
*What the hell am I doing here?* McGonagall thought. *I'm supposed to be seeing a film with Albus*.
They continued to dance. McGonagall tried to fight it. Harry pulled her in even more. His face was embedded in her chest. He was in heaven…
McGonagall was not. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. And she wanted to get this bespectacled git out of her cleavage.
The music stopped.
All was silent.
Then there was a distant wailing, and it was coming from the back of the hall. A male voice. Well. Two. Albus and Neville were wailing in harmony (how sad). They walked in unison to the stage of the empty auditorium and walked up the stairs.
"Aah, aah, ah…" they finished. They paused. Then the both talked at once with a sudden burst of speed.
"Minerva –"
"Harry -"
"This is getting strange –"
"I have something to tell you!"
"STOOOP!" Yelled Minerva. "Neville – you first."
"Harry – I know why you're having these dreams."
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Sorry for short chapter but I was in a rush.
Anyway, you know the drill. R&R!