The pennants adorning Hogwarts' turrets fluttered at half-mast, while the decoration in the Great Hall was a respectful shade of black. The staff wore subdued expressions and the Headmaster looked most unusual in his plain grey robe and hat. Every single member of Slytherin house sported a black armband, while Draco Malfoy rained twenty types of hex on any pupil who had the effrontery to laugh or misbehave under the sad circumstances.
It did not take long for the truth to emerge. As Dumbledore explained the tragic accident to the stunned pupils when they returned from the Christmas holidays, he reached the part about a phial labelled Clarifying Solution mysteriously turning out to contain deadly Manticore Repellent, when two Gryffindor third years burst into hysterical sobs.
In the privacy of the Headmaster's study, they clung miserably to each other and begged not to be sent to Azkaban.
"Miss Harbinger, Mr Shipman, would you please explain precisely what happened," McGonagall's lips were white with horror at the thought that her students were in some way responsible for her young colleague's death. Albus tried to control the wobbly feeling in his stomach caused by the realisation that Severus may have been killed as a result of yet another Gryffindor prank.
"We didn't mean it!" they howled in unison. After some calming draught and a lemon drop each, the girl managed to confess that in order to ruin the potion of a particularly geeky Slytherin classmate, they had swapped around the labels on some of the phials in the lab on the last day of term.
"It was all our fault, wasn't it?" the boy sniffed. "It was the last class before we broke up for the holidays. We forgot all about it."
Minerva saw to it that they remembered the dressing-down for the rest of their lives.
…….
On the second day of term, the students were still rather quiet at breakfast. Even though Snape had been the most unpopular teacher in the history of Hogwarts, an achievement of which he had been tremendously proud, the children still found it unnerving to lose him.
"Ridiculous, really," Hermione commented quietly over her porridge. "He survives capture and torture at the hands of Voldemort and a vengeful band of homicidal Death Eaters, only to fall victim to a stupid accident."
At the Ravenclaw table, two first-years started giggling over a magazine. A blond head snapped up at the end of Slytherin and glared. A few seconds later, Crabbe and Goyle lumbered over for a 'quiet word' and silence descended again.
"I had hoped that all the pointless death would stop, since the end of the war," murmured Harry, absently polishing his Head Boy badge until he could see both his scars reflected in it.
Just then, the peace was shattered so violently, everyone in the hall jumped out of their seat. The Order of the Phoenix veterans and ex-DA members had drawn their wands before they realised it was only Peeves, but kept them raised when they realised he was behaving even more oddly than usual.
The poltergeist burst through the huge oak doors, screaming in terror. He zoomed twice around the ceiling, still screeching, with his ghostly hands drawn up to his face, before buzzing the staff table and vanishing through the wall behind their heads with an other-worldly 'pop'.
Everyone remained frozen for a moment until their ears stopped ringing.
"Elf?" asked Dumbledore authoritatively. The whole school turned to watch as the tiny figure of Dobby materialised, wearing a navy blue woolly had with a dark red pom-pom and at least five different socks in a variety of respectfully muted shades. By his standards, at least.
"Yes, Master Headmaster, sir? How can Dobby be helping today?" he asked.
"Dobby, is anything wrong inside the castle?" asked Albus carefully, sharp blue eyes examining every fraction of the room.
"Wrong, Master Headmaster, sir? No, sir. Dobby is not thinking so, unless you is talking about the Master Groundskeeper's big Fang doggie who has his head stuck in the biscuit barrel again, sir?"
"No, Dobby, aside from that?" Dumbledore's upper lip twitched.
"No, Master Headmaster, sir. All is being very hunky chunky dory, sir!" he stated proudly.
"How odd," said Minerva. "I've never seen Peeves so upset before."
Back at the Gryffindor table, Hermione's eyes were wide was she meticulously scanned the hall.
"What is it?" asked Ron, wishing she would sit back down so they could do justice to the mountain of crispy bacon which had just appeared next to his plate. Harry studied her fearful expression.
"What's wrong?" he asked cautiously, experience having taught him to respect the fact that her brain was habitually five minutes ahead of his own. And a good half hour ahead of Ron's.
"I was just wondering what terrifies a ghost," she whispered.
"Dan Aykroyd?" suggested Dean Thomas, who was multi-tasking by eating toast with one hand and clutching his wand in the other.
"Who?" went Ron.
"Shh," snapped Hermione.
The boys pondered her question. Peeves the Poltergeist, supernatural terror of the school, tormentor of Umbridge and merciless harasser of staff and students alike, was beside his unpleasant self with fear.
"Whatever it is," Harry began uneasily, "It must be fiendish!"
"Demonic," added Ron, his ears turning pink with dread.
"Truly heinous," Dean finally put down his toast.
"What is it about this castle and mortal peril?" sighed Ginny, with weariness beyond her years
.…….
AN: Yes, I know, pointless silliness! This harsh world needs more of it x
