Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. If I did, I would be fabulously rich right now and not wasting my time writing this.

Oh...erm, I forgot to put disclaimers in my first 4 chapters. Sorry! But just to acknowledge that, so I don't get sued or anything. I'm done now.

Ch 5: Of Running into Tables

With a flash, Severus remembered that Minerva was old enough to be his great-grandmother. Using his brilliant powers of deduction, he realized that it could not possibly be PMS. Could it? Maybe she just had issues. That sounded about right.

Minerva was still ranting about why she would make a better Headperson ("I have better fashion sense! I'm more hip! I can do the Moonwalk! I can turn into a CAT!") Severus was getting very sick of her shrill voice in his ear. He kicked her in the shins; she fell and her head hit against the table.

The students, hearing the thunk, turned to see what had happened.

Hannah Abbot ran to the professor's side. "She's still alive!" the Hufflepuff cried. "Quick! Bring her to Madame Pomfrey!" (We all know that Hufflepuffs are sensationally dull). Also, being a Hufflepuff meant that no one listened to her, including her fellow Hufflepuffs. Let's count how many times I say Hufflepuff! Ahem...

Somehow, the Hufflepuff managed to get the unconscious, soon-to-be-dead professor up to the hospital wing. That's when it hit the Hufflepuff that the healer was dead. The Hufflepuff tried vainly to save the ailing teacher. Two minutes later, Minerva McGonagall was a thing of the past.

In great distress, the Hufflepuff cast herself out of the hospital window. Her body plummeted to the ground and was lost in the night. At least, until Fang got to it.

As this was going on, Severus had officially become the Headmaster. He was sitting on a throne and the Creevy brothers were fanning him with abnormally large peacock feathers. Some random unfortunate Ravenclaw was his footstool, and another was feeding him peeled grapes. Severus was seriously considering turning his robes into gold to fit the occasion, but decided against it. Gold was so not his color: it made him look sallow. Well, sallowER.

Draco was observing this all from across the Great Hall, a smirk on his face. Severus caught his eye and gave him a not-so-subtle wink, in which half his face was scrunched up like a prune. "MEET ME HERE TOMORROW MORNING AT 6!" the Headmaster shouted to Draco. Naturally, no one else noticed. Draco smiled inwardly. Step 1 was complete. He walked out of the Hall and headed toward his common room, crashing into a wall in the process.

All this time, the idiotic Trio had not ceased walking into tables. Hermione had a moment of smartness and pointed out that they should start on the costume design. This would have been a good plan, had Harry and Ron been conscious.

With a sigh, Hermione walked into a table once again, and slipped, unconscious, to the floor.

It was 6 am the next day. Wooooo!

Draco donned his intimidating black cloak and his clunky, shiny, evil- looking black boots and swept down to the Great Hall. His father would be proud. He had paid good money for swoop-down-on-people-while-wearing-out-of- style-boots-and-look-scary lessons. He entered the Great Hall, and saw the new Headmaster standing near a table, looking down at the floor. Three lumps were by his feet, but Draco couldn't make out what they were.

Snape's head shot up when he heard Draco's footsteps. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy," he greeted, with his oily voice and his oily hair and his oily face and...yeah. You get the picture. "Well, you should be off on your QUEST now, shouldn't you?"

"Yes, prof- Headmaster." Draco looked around. "Where're Potty and his dogs?"

Snape kicked the lump by his right foot. "Right here!" he said brightly.

It was then that Draco saw that the lumps were the Boy Who Lived and his chums. He and the Headmaster amused themselves for the next five minutes kicking the Troglodytic Trio.

Finally, Ron stirred. He yawned, stretched and whacked Hermione in the face, giving her a black eye. Hermione yelped in pain, waking Harry, who sat up, hit his head against the table again, and passed out. Severus cleared his throat.

Ron and Hermione looked up, and were scared. You would be too. It is quite frightening when you look up and see a giant nose wearing black robes.

"Hey, Herm," Ron whispered. "Why is there a big hairy nose in place of Snape, wearing Snape's robes?"

"I dunno, Ron," she whispered back. "Maybe Snape has a bad cold and turned into a giant nose like in that cough commercial."

"What's a commercial?"

"Never mind. Let's wake Harry up and sneakily sneak away," Hermione said, her second intelligent thought in two days. This was a first for her. She felt proud.

Draco was listening to their conversation with amusement, Snape with growing fury. However, he refrained himself from doing something he might regret. Wait, he wouldn't regret killing Ron...or Hermione...and especially not Harry... He began to reach for his wand, then thought the better of it. After all, they were needed in The Plan. hint hint wink wink nudge nudge

By now, Ron and Hermione had given up on trying to wake Harry. As they were walking back to their common room (not noticing Draco or Snape, and forgetting completely about The Nose), Draco took a shovelful of Cornish pixie manure and chucked it into Harry's face.

Harry spluttered, and woke up. Snape and Draco doubled over with laughter. Ron and Hermione turned when they heard their friend making odd strangling noises, and rushed to hug him.

"Harry! Oh Harry, you're all right! I was so worried!" cried Ron. Snape looked at Ron uneasily. Could he be...?

A Gryffindor hugfest ensued, resulting in the trio getting covered in manure. But that didn't bother them. They were grinning like loons. Most likely because they were loons.

Snape cleared his throat again.

"Oh, hello professor Snape!" Ron greeted jovially. "I'm glad you reclaimed your body from that scary nose."

Snape resembled a murderous tomato.

Draco cut in. "We need to get started on our mission."

"What mission?" three Gryffindors asked in unison.

"The mission to Tahiti, cretins, to defeat You-Know-Who." Draco responded, rolling his eyes.

"Fear of a name only staples balloon of the low-carb woodchuck in the third person." Hermione said, hoping she would get lucky and say something intelligent. Ha.

Draco looked at her. "I think you hit your head one too many times, Mudblood. Anyways, do you idiots know what mission I'm talking about?"

"Er..." Harry said. He was good at saying 'er.' "I remember something about a costume...HOLY CRAP! I forgot about the costume! Now we'll never defeat Voldemort!"

"Hey! I've got an idea!" Ron said. "Let's wear halter tops and leather minis!" So he IS, Snape thought to himself.

"Why don't we just skip the costume part?" Draco asked.

"No! We can't beat the Dark Lord without a costume!" Ron protested.

"All right. How's this. We wear black cloaks."

"That's brilliant!" Hermione squealed.

Snape raised an eyebrow. How did she score so high on the OWLs?

"And they can have 'Crack Fiters'written across the back and we can wear ski masks!" Harry shouted.

"...Sure Potter. Suit yourself. I'll just wear the cloak."

"Awww, Malfoy, where's your team spirit?" Harry whined.

"Goyle ate that too."

A/N: Tell me what you think! I didn't spend much time on it so it might not flow too well. And I only proofread it twice, so there might be some errors (spell check really does not work).

Next chapter: They finally set out! But they won't go straight to Tahiti...oh no...::cackle:: And yes, there is a connection between Tahiti and Dead!Tahiti. But I didn't tell you that.