"Bigamy!" Neville gasped in horror.
"Not yet," smiled Jacob. "Maybe never, now." He kicked the shuddering form of Edith at his feet and she jerked awake. "Edith; meet my wife Daenerys."
Edith shook her head groggily. "Ye never told me ye were married Jacob." She looked heartbroken.
"Indeed he is!" Shouted Daenerys angrily. "So gather up thy excess skin and get away from my man!"
Edith looked at Jacob pleadingly.
"I'll figure this out." He assured her. "But for now, I'm afraid we have to part."
Edith burst into tears and started dribbling Dorito-powder onto the thick crimson rug. "Naw Jacob, naw!" She wailed. "I need ye, I need ye so bad!"
Jacob smiled at her fondly and turned to Neville, who had returned to working on the portrait. "Neville," he said. "I know you have a thing for Edith-"
"It's n-not true!" Stammered Neville.
"We've all seen you staring at her jubblies, Neville." Advised Dean Thomas kindly.
"I- I was... admiring her... shoes." Neville blurted out.
"Edith." Jacob turned to his woman. "You're with Neville now; until I can set things right."
Edith stopped vomiting immediately, and started beaming beatifically. She hopped up in one sprightly motion, the meat on her ankles wobbling like kebabs in a misaligned centrifuge. Sidling over to Neville, she began toying with his ear using one arthritic, libidinous finger. Neville's face turned as red as a skinned infant casually discarded on a 25,000 lumen spotlight; but he looked delighted.
Edith rummaged around in her knickers and pulled out a moist crack-pipe. "Have a toot on this and follow me," she cackled delightedly as she headed towards the boys dormitories.
Neville put down the easel and removed his beret carefully, before waddling after her. He was sucking in thick jets of billowing white smoke as if he were trying to subvert the election of a new Pope. Edith stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to face him. "Did I ever tell ye, ye look just like me auld son 'arold?" She winked, giving the impression of a mini-stroke. "Let mummy show ye what good little boys get on their birfdays."
Jacob turned to Dany. "Hi honey," he said grinning.
"Don't hi me!" Cried the Mother of Dragons. "I want to know what you were doing with that decrepit old floozy-"
"I tink dat's what we all want ter know." Seamus interrupted Irishly, as the entire common room looked upon Jacob with unfriendly eyes. Edith was very popular in the tower, and the general feeling was that Jacob had treated her shamefully.
"Well, it's like this..." Jacob turned to the gathered throng. "I do love Edith, but I married too young. You have to understand I was just a callow youth straight out of the fighting pits of Norfolk, when Dany and I first met."
"Norfolk-" Shuddered Daenerys reliving the horrible memory. "Like a Lannister's bedchamber, only with more incest and fewer teeth."
"Well I'd just won my twelve-thousandth fight in a row," Jacob continued with a far-away expression on his face. "And I was getting tired from lack of sleep. It must have taken me a whole week to get through all twelve-thousand of Norfolk's best fighting men, and when they ran out of them I started on the womenfolk-" He paused, looking thoughtful. "At least, I think they were women..."
"I found him in my private chambers strangling Missandei with a pair of leather pants." Interjected Dany. "He was laughing and crying at the same time, surrounded by the bodies of all the Nor-folk he had killed. They were strung around his neck like trophies, all twelve-thousand of them-"
"Like I said," cut in Jacob. "I was callow and inexperienced and I didn't like Nor-folk."
"Who does?" Rhetoricised Dany, shivering with revulsion. "I fell in love with him instantly-" Her face grew soft at the memory.
Suddenly a thin voice piped up in the corner.
"What's that?" Asked Jacob, looking to see who had made the sound.
"I said: I lost my entire family in that massacre." Colin Creevey spoke again.
Jacob cast him a look of pure hate. "And how did you survive?" He asked sharply.
"I was on a foreign-exchange trip." Colin whispered. "You killed my Welsh counterpart."
Jacob's face fell at the news. "Argllchdd!" He cried out, horrified.
"That was him," confirmed Colin. "Short, bearded chap, about eight-or-nine years old."
"I turned him into a pair of trousers!" Jacob exclaimed, looking devastated. "Wore him to the Teen Choice Awards- This is your fault!" He rounded on Colin.
"Later, my love." Interjected Dany, holding out a steadying hand to belay Jacob's rising madness. "I came here because I have important news, but first we must all go down to the Great Hall; Dumbledore has called a meeting."
The Gryffindors filed into the Great Hall to the sound of early 90s Hip-Hop blaring out of a large Ghetto blaster on a stage at the far end of the room. Dumbledore was breakdancing on the dais, currently spinning on his back as they sat down at the long table reserved for their House. He jumped up suddenly, backwards baseball cap teetering dangerously atop his wispy argentine corn-rows. He was wearing a heavy gold chain and tight leather trousers that looked exactly like Jacob's, except Dumbledore's bulge was smaller. On his feet were red-and-white Nike High-Tops and on his face was a vision of lust and fury.
Dumbledore did the robot then effortlessly dropped into a headspin; everyone in the hall sighed quietly and tried not to let their boredom show.
"His record's fifteen hours non-stop." Dean whispered to Dany out of the corner of his mouth. "He makes us clap or we fail our exams."
Just then the room murmured half-hearted appreciation and began to applaud unenthusiastically as Snape skipped backwards and forwards across the stage in oversize dungarees and a Tommy Hilfiger boobtube, clapping his hands above his head to signify the students should do the same. As Dumbledore glided into the float, Snape awkwardly began two-stepping in and out of the headmaster's flailing legs, but got confused and tripped, trying - and failing - to turn it into a knee drop at the last minute. Snape landed on his face and the crowd heard his large hook-nose break on the hard wooden podium. He stifled an exclamation of pain and did the worm towards the exit - crying with rage and shame - as Dumbledore gyrated his pulsating groin towards the Ravenclaw second-years, waggling his tongue lasciviously.
Just then the sky clouded in the magical ceiling overhead, and lightning flashed across the upturned faces of the students. There was an almighty rumble and a furious wind began howling through the hall, knocking students from their chairs and scattering them across the floor. Dumbledore was too busy concentrating on his yo-yo tricks to notice anything amiss, he walked the dog obliviously as a sudden, blinding light rent the middle of the room and the air boomed with a deafening shudder.
"Right on time." Smiled Dany, as she looked at the Hello Ser Pounce watch on wrist.
Jacob blinked his eyes as his vision slowly returned and the room reassembled itself into familiar shapes around him. Familiar that is, except for two egregious exceptions at the centre of the dissipating smoke from the unexpected discharge. It was Beric Donarrion - Lightning Lord come from the sky, and glowering next to him was The Hound!
"Beric!" Cried Dumbledore delightedly, looking up at last. "You got my invitations?"
Dondarrion sighed. "Four times a week for the last fifteen years." He said wearily.
"And you finally made it!" Cried Dumbledore. "How wonderful; I was just getting warmed up."
An almost imperceptible groan echoed around the room.
Dumbledore made a small frown and covering his mouth with his hand, started coughing.
"Cough-cough-Exams-cough-cough." He spluttered, fooling no-one.
Everyone clapped politely. Dumbledore beamed at the visitors and opened his arms in welcome, bobbing his head in time to the music which was still pumping out of the boom-box on the stage.
"There's no time for that Albus." Dondarrion sighed again, looking sad and weary. "We come bearing vital tidings from the Lord of Light, about matters which threaten to engulf every one of us in their inexorable maw."
Dumbledore pulled a small thesaurus from his sleeve and rifled through its pages. After about a minute of this, he gasped dramatically and looked Dondarrion in his one good eye. "Come again?"
The Lightning Lord sighed sadly and opened his mouth to explain-
"It means we're up crap creek without a paddle." Growled The Hound.
Dumbledore dropped to his knees. "Oh my God," he exclaimed through ashen lips. "It's finally happened, hasn't it? The thing we all feared?"
Beric nodded his head sadly.
"Snape's released his mixtape!" Dumbledore laughed. "Psyche!" He called to the side of the stage where Snape was still weeping in a pool of his own snotters and blood.
"This is serious Albus." Beric whispered through clenched teeth.
Dumbledore's long body quivered with mirth. "So it is Snape's mixtape," he tittered. "If you consider Demi Lovato a serious-"
Snape let out a wail of artistic frustration from the sidelines. The Hound made a strange, strangled sound that might have been a laugh. Dumbledore began to pop-it-and-lock-it with a satisfied expression shining out of his kindly old face.
"Albus!" Cried Dondarrion, losing his temper. "Volde-"
"Charades!" Cried Dumbledore, shutting off the music with a wave of his elder wand.
"Come again?" Asked Beric.
Duumbledore beamed around the room. "Let's have a game of charades!" He exclaimed. "If I win, you have to watch me breakdance until I say you can leave; and if you win, you can tell me whatever it is that you think is so important." He raised his bushy eyebrows expectantly. "Deal?"
Beric sighed wearily. "Yes, I suppose." He looked Dumbledore in the eye. "It's a deal."
The game began with Dumbledore making a winding camera motion and holding up eight long fingers. He pulled a sensual face and waved his arms around his head like a helicopter.
"Old twat." Guessed the Hound.
"You're supposed to say what you see." Advised Dondarrion.
"Old twat." Said the Hound again, shrugging.
"No." Said Dondarrion sadly. "You're meant to say what he's doing."
The Hound scratched at his burnt face and frowned. "Old twat flapping his arms about."
Beric sighed. "It's a film."
"Old twat flapping his arms about: The movie."
Dumbledore beamed and clapped his hands together. "Excellent, Sandor!" He cried. "Not many people have seen that film, I'm surprised you got it so quickly."
The Hound snorted derisively. "Joffrey used to make me watch it every Christmas."
"Did he now?" Asked Dumbledore, who was still windmilling his arms like a maniac.
"Yeah," said Sandor. "You were really good in it."
Dumbledore blushed. "Oh Sandor, you're too kind." He giggled.
"No I mean it," said The Hound. "It's like you were born to play a silly old twat. I especially liked the bestiality scenes where you used that grapefruit to..."
Beric coughed lightly and inclined his head towards the innocent faces of the gathered children. "Sandor..." he chided lightly.
The Hound looked genuinely perplexed. "What's wrong with grapefruit?" He asked.
Dumbledore beamed down at them, adjusting his backwards cap to a more fetching angle. "I think Lord Beric refers to the jiggery-pokery with the animals, Sandor." He explained. "It was indeed a sad business, but I was young and I needed the money; they just seemed to lose the will to live..." He trailed off.
"The DVD commentary said you got through fifteen aardvarks, three storks and a unicorn." The Hound counted them off on his large fingers.
"Yes," replied Dumbledore. "That was the official total. But let's just say that more than a few voles went missing on set, and the local trout were strangely depleted for many years afterwards-"
"Albus!" Boomed the sonorous voice of Beric Dondarrion, cutting off Dumbledore mid-sentence. "We have travelled long and far, by dangerous paths and terrors untold, to warn you that Lord Voldemort has returned; and this time he has teamed-up with The Night King! They are planning to unleash the army of the dead against Hogwarts, and they arrive next week!"
In the silence that followed his pronouncement, you could have heard a pin drop.
Authors note: Thanks everyone for the kind reviews, they're the best I've ever had! There's lots more drama and excitement to come as the story progresses, don't you worry! I'm glad you're enjoying reading it as much as I have been enjoying writing it. Godbless everybody, and stay safe!
J. Jones (GandaldorePoggins) x
