A/N: Ack! Aren't I the best to give you so many chapters? Aren't I? No need to answer, I know I am XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way. Nor Shakespeare. You can't. Reason being, he's dead. I guess you could own his body though. Goes off to dig up Shakespeare's body

Ahem...and thanks to all my luverly reviewers ALREADY! Squee!

And cookies to: the two-way mirror, LDSA23, angelofdeath94, RoadToRuin and pureangel86 for putting it on story alert! You rock, guys! AND 15 chocolate chip cookies to RoadToRuin and pureangel86 for adding me to Story Alert, Favourite Stories, Author Alert AND Favourite Authors! Whee! Thanks soo much!

Now on to the next scene!

Macbeth - Act I - Scene II

Remus Lupin was seriously wounded, and his clothes were stained by blood. A fearsome sight, but the ones he was meeting to update were not scared too much. Dumbledore, Snape, Flitwick, Ron Weasley and several other teachers including Madame Pomfrey watched him and listened to his tale.

"What bloody man is this? My eyesight's not so good...has anyone seen my glasses?" inquired Dumbledore. Everyone shook their heads. "Ah well. Never mind. Remus, is it? Well, tell us what happened." The other teachers looked hesitant.

"Are...are you sure? I mean, we probably do not have much time left, and we know most of what's happened..." stammered Professor McGonagall.

Dumbledore quelled her with a look. "He can report, as seemeth of his plight, you know, as he is hurt he was probably in the middle of the fighting, of the revolt. the newest state, of which we do not know yet."

Lupin looked up. "Seemeth? What revolt?"

"Be quiet." Dumbledore commanded. Lupin looked down again.

Flitwick looked at Lupin sympathetically. "He did well. And fought much, by the looks of it. This is the sergeant, ("I'm not a sergeant!" "Be quiet!") Who like a good and hardy soldier fought, 'gainst my captivity."

Lupin stared at him. "When were you going to be captured?"

"BE QUIET!"

Flitwick continued, "Hail, brave friend!" ("And since when am I your friend?") Say to the King the knowledge -"

Dumbledore sighed. "Flitwick...I'm not a king."

Flitwick glared at him; "Say to the King the knowledge of the broil as thou didst leave it."

Lupin looked questioningly at Dumbledore, a look that plainly said, 'Is he all right?' Dumbledore shrugged and gestured at him to talk.

"Fine, OK already! It was very close, doubtful it stood, as two spent swimmers that do cling together -"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "And what did swimmers had to do with this?"

"- And choke their art. the merciless Macdonwald -"

"I think you mean He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, right? And how do you choke art?" volunteered Ron helpfully.

Lupin ignored him. "-The merciless Macdonwald - worthy to be a rebel, for to that the multiplying villainies of nature do swarm upon him-from the Western Isles of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, show'd like a rebel's whore. But all's too weak; for brave Macbeth-well he deserves that name-disdaining Fortune, with his brandished steel, with smok'd with bloody execution, like valour's minion, carv'd out his passage till he fac'd the slave; which ne'er shook hands nor bade farewell to him, till he unseamed him from the nave to th' chaps, and fixed his head upon our battlements."

There was silence.

"Say what?" asked Ron. "Who's Macbeth? What's with Fortune? What's nave and chaps mean? And what's a whore?"

Dumbledore considered it for a few moments. "I don't know who Macbeth is, I don't know who Fortune is, nave and chaps is probably a body part and whores...ask your mother..." he replied.

"Oh." Ron digested this. "So, Lupin, who's Macbeth?"

Lupin scratched his head. "Actually, I have no idea. Must be a some brave fighter. Maybe it's a nickname."

Dumbledore nodded. "He must be very brave indeed. O valiant cousin! Worthy gentleman!"

"So...he's your cousin?" Ron asked, frowning.

"No...I don't think so..." Dumbledore thought. "I don't know where that came from, to tell the truth."

Lupin began to tremble. "I feel the words! Ack! they're coming! Noooooooooo...! As whence the sun gins his reflection ahipwrecking storms and direful thunders break - ("Yes, it has been stormy recently..") - So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come discomfort swells. Mark, King of scotland, mark - ("Dumbledore, is there something you're not telling us?" "...no...") No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd, compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, but the Norweyan lord, survaying vantage, with furbish'd arms and new supplies of men, began a fresh assault."

Again, there was silence.

"Okay, hands up who understood that."

No hands were raised.

"Wait a second...Dumbledore? Are you sure you're not King of Scotland?"

"...Yes..." stuttered Dumbledore uncomfortably.

"Hmm..." Ron was sceptical, to say the least. "And how come I haven't got to say anything?"

"You've said far too much, actually!" retorted Professor Snape.

Ron was silenced momentarily. "But...but then...so...the fight wasn't going well?"

Lupin shook his head, "Duh! No!"

Dumbledore set his chin, wishing he had hair so the breeze could blow it back dramatically. Effects just weren't the same with a beard. "Never mind! Dismay'd not this, our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?"

Ron was only too eager to continue his questions. "Who's Banquo? And why aren't I a captain too?"

Everyone ignored him, they were paying attention to Lupin, who was shaking again.

"Ah! Ah! the words! they - Yes; As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. If I say sooth - ("What's sooth?" "Shut up, Ron!") - I must report they were as cannons overcharg'd with double cracks; so they doubly redoubled - "Double and double and double...eight! They were eight!" "Don't be an idiot, Ron.") - strokes upon the foe. Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, or memorize another Golgotha, ("Who's Golgotha?" "RON!" "Okay, okay, I'll shut up now.") I cannot tell-But I am faint, my gashes cry for help."

"Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I think I'll go and eat worms..." sang Ron under his breath. "Big ones, small ones, fat ones, skinny ones..."

"Ron..." Dumbledore spoke with gritted teeth, "If you don't shut up THIS MINUTE I will demote you from Prefect."

There was a collective gasp.

Dumbledore returned his attention to Lupin. "So well thy words become thee as thee wounds. They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons! And be quick about it too! Madame Pomfrey!"

Madame Pomfrey picked Lupin up and bustled towards the hospital wing. In came Fred Weasley.

"Hullo, Professors," he greeted, boredly.

Dumbledore started. "Who...Who comes here? Oh, hello, Fred."

"Finished your homework yet, Fred? Even the worthy Thane of Ross doesn't get to hand in his homework late, you know." remarked Professor Flitwick.

"Thane...of Ross? Me?"

Ron jeered at him. "Oh, he doesn't get told to shut up, does he! Even though his shirt's untucked and he's holding a Fanged Frisbee! Oh, What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look that seems to speak things strange!"

Fred blinked. "Wha-God save the King! Where did that come from? What are you doing? he asked suspiciously.

Dumbledore glared at Ron. "Oh, nothing. Where have you been? Where cams't thou, worthy Thane?"

Fred began to slowly back away from the teachers. "Uh...nowhere. I mean, From Fife, great King."

Ron looked at Dumbledore. "There is something you're not telling, isn't there?"

"SHUT UP!"

Fred continued. "Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky and fan our people cold. Norway himself, with terrible numbers, assisted by that most disloyal traitor, the Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict, till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, confronted him with self-comparisons, point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm, curbing his lavish spirit; and to conclude, the victory fell upon us." He blinked again, and coughed. "Wow, that was a long one."

"Great happiness!" Dumbledore cried.

"Uh, why? What happened?" asked Ron.

"I don't know...exactly...but it must be something good." admitted Dumbledore.

"Ah well. Okay. It's good, that...uh oh...that now Sweno, the Norway's king, craves composition; nor would we deign him burial of his men till he disbursed, at Saint Colme's Inch, ten thousand dollars to our general use. How much is a dollar?"

Dumbledore thought. "A bit more than half a pound."

"Oh, right. Okay."

"No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death, and with his former title greet Macbeth." recited Dumbledore

"Ah ha!" Ron smirked. "The plot thickens! So Macbeth is now Thane of Cawdor...hmm..."

Everyone looked at him slightly warily.

"Never mind...I'll see it done..." Ron muttered.

Dumbledore grimaced. "Oh not again! It's been too much! Ack- What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won. There! Now WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON!"

A/N: What indeed...muahaha! Phew. That was long. Again, thanks to everyone! I don't put review replies, but I do reply to every signed review, so keep up with your emails!

Thanks for all the support everyone!

Next, my personal favourite scene.