Peculiar Oddities: Chapter 4

Albus Dumbledore groaned slightly, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Stupid wards… always interrupting my favourite dreams." This one in particular involved a sexy Brazilian masseur, named Lobo, rubbing lemon drops into his shoulders. Albus sighed, imagining a potential continuation of his dream in which he defeated Grindelwald by first distracting him with a killing curse and then piercing his left eye with a rapidly accelerating lemon drop. His thoughts returned to the masseur, who was now offering him the aforementioned sweets in exchange for chicken drumsticks.

And people wondered why he depended on his Occlumency so much.

Finally he realised that the wards were shrieking at him. Yelping quietly, he donned clothing more befitting of his many titles than his current pyjamas with imprinted South Park characters. He then extended his mage sight, asking Hogwarts what the problem was. As he viewed the sequence of events that led to Harry's 'capture', the wizard's wrinkled face grew progressively paler. "Oh Harry, what have you done? Never, ever, trust food, especially" – Dumbledore's face scrunched up, and his fists clenched, almost drawing blood – "a muffin."

Albus grumbled nonsensically to himself, knowing that nothing could be done to save the boy now. Instead he decided to check the Visibility Wards around the castle, something that he had neglected to do recently. He wasn't expecting to see anything – after all, it was well after curfew. He was, therefore, surprised to hear sounds coming from the Gryffindor common room.

He was about to investigate further, but a sudden interruption prevented this. It was a portrait; a very distressed portrait.

"Dumbledore!" he shouted, breathing deeply, "Voldemort's minions! Death Eaters in disguise! They're here! Board the doors! Ham-"

"Calm down Nikolai, what brings you to this conclusion?" The old man knew this portrait's behaviour well. He strengthened the room's silencing charms.

The portrait was hyperventilating. It screamed in panic, "Giant bobs of chewing gum, moving! In Hogwarts uniform! Gryffindor Tower!" – The headmaster wondered what Voldemort was playing at - "Hammer planks on to the windows! Protect the secret entrances with Devil's Snare! Place knives in the fireplaces! Cover the quidditch pitch with mouse-traps and floo powder!"

"Allow me a moment to verify the validity of your concerns," interrupted Dumbledore calmly. He paused. "By the way, would you like a lemon drop?"

"I am a piece of canvas, Albus," the reply came to gritted teeth.

"Touché."

Returning back to the wards, he extended his mage sight briefly into the common room in question. Only their shadows were visible in the small firelight, but it was clear that there were too very large men – definitely not Hogwarts students. Assuming that they were a new breed of giant, the headmaster withdrew quickly, shocked and disturbed.

"Oh Tom, you cheeky devil."

He cast Sonorus, and channelled the emergency communication given to him as headmaster, "Students and staff," boomed his voice across the castle, "It has come to my attention that Hogwarts has been breached. Now, listen to my instructions very carefully."

He paused here, possibly allowing for time for the message to sink in, but more likely for dramatic effect.

"Board your doors with what you can find, hammer large pieces of wood onto the windows, Professor Sprout, place Devil's Snare on all entrances out of the castle, prefects, arrange hot pokers in the fireplaces, and all staff, find the collection of…mouse traps… and floo – what?" He said this all very quickly, but calmly.

He turned a questioning gaze to the portrait, who shrugged. "The powder is slippery?"

Minerva and Filius burst into his office forcefully.

"What is the meaning of this?" shouted the lady.

"Huh?" replied the headmaster with eloquence belying years of public speaking experience.

"The security breech," replied McGonogall, speaking very slowly.

"Oh, that."

The teachers looked on, while Albus was wondering how to break the news.

"There are… horizontally-challenged giants in the Gryffindor common room," deadpanned Dumbledore.

"Thin giants?" questioned Filius.

"What!" shouted Minerva simultaneously, in shock.

"No," replied Dumbledore, in a grim voice.

Another pause was inserted, and he took the time to shake his head and sigh dramatically. "Anti-horizontally-challenged giants," he corrected. All this was said as though a terrible disaster had occurred, like the ice-cream van driving past your house without stopping.

"So a fat giant?"

"To put it simply… yes, a fat giant," replied the headmaster, pleased at the man's perception.

"We have to save the children Albus, they're in danger!"

He shook his head.

"It would be suicide. If we attack them, they would tear us apart with the very same hot pokers that we placed in the fireplace," Albus kept his face neutral, "besides, the children are safe. They - "

"They are children, Albus!"

"Minerva!" The headmaster raised his voice slightly. "If you had let me continue, I would have said that they have boarded their doors! And hamm-"

The professors glanced at eachother.

Albus sighed. "Alright, we shall act as you wish. One moment."

He turned away from them, and privately sent a message to one of his staff. Moments later, a shaken Remus ran into the office, holding a piece of parchment in his hands.

"Here Albus, the earliest version of the map. It works almost as well the completed copy."

Dumbledore accepted it, smiling at the professor. After first activating it, the headmaster scanned the map for the common room. He sighed when he did not see Harry in his usual location. He shifted his gaze, and frowned for a moment, before neutralising his expression once more.

"It seems… that those are not giants."

The professors looked at him quizzically.

"They are actually Hermione Granger and Ron Weaseley."

Filius was first to recover, smiling. "You knew all along didn't you? This was all a joke to you."

Albus saw his escape. "Yes, yes it was. I was merely testing you on your gullibility, and the extent of your loyalty to me."

Minerva was looking peeved. "And what about the message you sent, that woke up the school? The one involving Devil's Snare, and fireplaces, and floo?"

Albus spouted the first thing that came to his mind, "Fire drill."

"But there hasn't ever been a fire at Hogwarts, in 2000 years," replied an exasperated Minerva.

"Exactly Minerva, exactly," smiled the old man.

Meanwhile, Lord Voldemort was in assembly with an unspecified number of Death Eaters. "Avery, report."

He stepped forward. "My Lord, Potter's situation is in control. We do not yet know who or what the muffin is. We," he gestured towards a smaller, but still unspecified, number of Death Eaters, "believe it may be a new form of self-transfiguration, a 'biomagus' – the ability to take up the appearance of an organic substance."

Voldemort was nodding gravely. "It must be a very powerful and cunning wizard to have achieved such an advanced magical feat. I myself have not even attempted it! The unforeseen consequences could be disastrous! It also infiltrated Hogwarts alone, something which I again have not managed."

He paused, and adopted the tone of an inspirational leader. "The arrival of a third force shifts the focus of this war in unfathomable directions! However, the mere fact that the form of this man is a muffin, one of the most evil foods, reassures me as to the at least partial darkness of this mystery. We must further observe the situation. Potter will not be harmed. Anything else?"

It was Avery again. "It was the strangest thing. I heard Potter admit to intimate relations with the Hogwarts squid! Perhaps there are feelings there; perhaps this is grounds for a future hostage situation to draw him out."

The Dark Lord looked unreasonably angry. "Perhaps you should… CRUCIO!"

He definitely did not want to remember those days at Hogwarts when he had drawn himself out of a deep depression by 'dabbling with wildlife' a bit more intimately than in any orthodox method of feeding the squid. He had lost about four virginities that day.

Yep, he and that Potter brat had one more thing in common, it seemed.

The last thought that the poor Death Eater had before passing out was, 'Is he blushing?'

END CHAPTER 4