A/N: So sorry this took so long, again! This time, though, I have a legitimate excuse: around Tuesday, I caught a bad cold, and then on Friday I got some type of virus. And when I'm sick, I'm not funny. Funny sounding, maybe…

Yeah, I saw GoF. Didn't really live up to my expectations, but it is hard to put a 740 page book into a movie. And all I'm gonna say is yes, I did cry over Cedric. And he was hot.

Wowness! Over 370 reviews! I think I may be in shock. I have to admit, when Chapter 20 was 1 review away from 20, therefore breaking my streak, I was kinda sad. And when last chapter was 2 away (until about 5 minutes ago when I got 2 more reviews), it got me thinking that maybe I'm not as funny as I used to be. So if you like it, review! It helps my self-esteem.

NOTE ABOUT REVIWER RESPONSES-

Fanfiction has created a thing where I press a button on your sent review and I can reply to it! And it gets emailed to you or something! The catch is, you have to be logged in. But I really don't want to risk being taken down so I'm gonna do this the legal way. If you're not logged in- I still love you and your reviews! But I can't respond to them anymore. Sorry to everyone who won't be getting them!

Disclaimer: Do I have to say it? -is chased by copyright infringement lawyers- Okay! Okay! I don't own Harry Potter!

The Death Eaters Take an Etiquette Class

Voldemort sat down to dinner with the Death Eaters. He raised his glass.

"I would like to make a toast," he said tearfully, "to the memory of our dear, beloved Mr. Fluffers."

Everyone rolled their eyes, but held up their wine glasses as well.

"He was a good man- er, hippo, Mr. Fluffers," Voldemort continued. "Loved by all-"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Bellatrix snapped. "Just let us drink already!"

Voldemort looked scandalized.

Everyone glared at him.

"Oh, fine," he muttered, drinking his wine.

Goyle immediately picked up several pieces of chicken and jammed them into his mouth at once.

Rodolphus scooped some butter out of the bowl using his potato.

Snape opened his mouth and poured in a suspiciously red liquid upside-down.

Lucius watched them all with evident disgust. "You guys are sick!" he announced.

"Oh my gosh!" Wormtail said. "You mean we're all gonna get salmonella?"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "No. You all have absolutely no table manners!"

"Wharttergmers?" Crabbe asked with his mouth open.

"Eeeeeeewww!" squealed Draco.

"Swallow, please," Narcissa said.

Crabbe swallowed. "What are table manners?"

"Same thing as etiquette," Draco explained.

"E-ti-kit?" Goyle sounded out.

"ETIQUETTE- noun- origin: French- the conduct or procedure required by good breeding or prescribed by authority to be observed in social or official life," Wormtail spouted off.

Everyone looked at him quizzically.

"Er, never mind."

"That does it!" Lucius decided. "Something needs to be done…"

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"Welcome to Madame Snuffleuphagus's School of Etiquette. I am Madame Snuffleuphagus, and this is my School of Etiquette."

That sentence would haunt Severus Snape for the rest of his life.

After seeing how barbarically his fellow Death Eaters ate, Lucius had enrolled all of them in a manners class.

That wasn't what was scaring Snape.

No, it was Madame Snuffleuphagus herself who was freaking him out.

He knew her.

"Snape!" Rodolphus hissed. "Isn't Madame Snufflewhatever that crazy old lady that proposed to you on the rainbow?"

All Snape could do was numbly nod.

"You!" Madame Snuffleuphagus rapped Rodolphus upside the head with a ruler. "Do not speak as I am speaking! That is improper etiquette!"

"Sorry," Rodolphus muttered, as Bellatrix attempted to murder their instructor with her eyes.

"You! Miss! Do not have that unpleasant face on! People will think you have improper etiquette!" Madame Snuffleuphagus shot at the female Lestrange. "Anyways, as I have previously stated, welcome to my school. Today, you will be learning proper eating etiquette. Please, take a seat in any of the chairs."

Mumbling and grumbling, the Death Eaters slouched over to the table and plunked themselves down in the seats.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my!" Madame Snuffleuphagus clucked. "That will not do at all! Observe." She gracefully pulled out a chair and sat down delicately on the edge. "Now, you try."

Everyone succeeded except for Crabbe, who was unable to balance without the support of the back of the chair and fell off, and Goyle, who broke his chair.

"It'll do," she said, eying them disdainfully. "Next, it is time for the soup course. Please take out your soup spoon and begin."

Everyone grabbed the first spoon in sight, with much loud clanking of the silverware.

"No, no, no!" Madame Snuffleuphagus shrieked. "The spoon farthest away from the plate, dearest, farthest away. All right? Everyone with me? Now, begin the soup."

Everyone loaded their spoons and slurped away.

"Oh me, oh my!" gasped Madame Snuffleuphagus. "Slurping is forbidden! Only children of the devil slurp!"

Everyone avoided each other's eye.

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Two hours and about forty horrified outbursts from the Madame later, class was over. And much to Snape's relief, Madame Snuffleuphagus hadn't seemed to notice him.

Or so he thought.

As he straggled, last, out the door, a hand out his shoulder made him turn around.

"H-hello, ma'am," he said nervously.

"Hello, Sevvy," she said coyly, taking off her blazer. "Long time no see?"

"Erm-well, yes- must go-" Snape began.

"Go? I think not…"

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Snape stumbled into Vile Love Dorr around seven o'clock, and walked in on everyone eating dinner.

Goyle regally sipped his soup. "Smashing minestrone, eh, old chap?" he asked Voldemort.

"Bloody brilliant," the Dark Lord agreed, using his fork to secure a piece of bread and a knife to cut it. "I say there, chum, couldn't pass me the wine now, could you?" He nodded in Rodolphus's direction.

"Of course!" Ro said. "But first, some for the lady?" he asked his wife.

Bellatrix, who appeared to be wearing a petticoated dress and holding a fan, giggled and blushed. "No, thank you," she said.

Snape resisted the urge to vomit all over his cloak.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" he shouted.

Everyone stared at him, appalled.

"I say, old bloke, there's no call for language like that!" Blaise said, covering Marissa's ears. "There're ladies at the table!"

"I feel faint!" Narcissa announced. "Severus, what could have caused you to commit such a heinous crime as befouling the mouth?"

"What happened?" Snape roared. "Why are you all acting like you're at a dinner party in sixteenth-century London?"

"We've seen the error of our terrible deeds," Wormtail explained. "And Merlin told us he'd forgive us if we corrected our mistake."

Snape broke down sobbing. "Why? WHY!"

Everyone looked around awkwardly.

Snape prayed for a loud and annoying call of "April Fools!"

Except, he reminded himself, it wasn't April.

"Is this like the time when you all dressed up in knickers and a corset for my eighteenth birthday party?" he asked hopefully.

Silence.

He looked up.

Rodolphus was staring at him like he was crazy. "Dude, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You said hell!" Snape gasped.

"Yeah… so?" Lucius asked.

"But-but-but you said there was no call for language like that! I'm so bloody confused!" Snape sobbed.

Lucius cleared his throat nervously. "Draco, you did say you had contacts at the mental ward of Saint Mungos, right?"

"What happened to the fan and the petticoat and the sixteenth century?" Snape wailed.

"I guess seeing that old Snuffleuphagus lady really made him mental, huh?" Ro asked.

"BRING BACK THE MANNERS!" Snape screamed.

"Is he going to be okay?" Marissa asked wearily.

"SAVE ME FROM HELL, MERLIN! SAVE ME NOW!"

Everyone began to slowly back away.

"I DON'T WANT TO TICKLE ELMO!"

From miles away, Avada Cruimperio smiled. Who knew it was such fun to mess with people's minds?

A/N: Review skit!

Lucius: Ahem. I have written a lovely piece of poetry.

Draco: No, you haven't.

Lucius: Oh, yes I have!

Draco: Please. No.

Lucius: -clears throat-

There was once was a girl named Avada Cruimperio.

Nothing really rhymes with Avada Cruimperio

But that's okay

Because poems don't have to rhyme

I think it'd be really cool if this one rhymed, though.

I'm not very good at writing rhyming poems.

Anyways, so this girl loved to get reviews

She loved it more than her shoes- OH MY GOD I TOTALLY JUST MADE IT RHYME!

When people reviewed her even if they didn't know her and had never reviewed before

It made her like, really, really, really happy.

The longer and more descriptive the review, the better

But she was happy with even just a positive word.

Like 'good'.

The moral of this poem-

Draco: Is that if you don't review, my father will write more poetry.

Lucius: No, stupid. They WANT more poetry. Because "poetry" sounds like "Lucius" and everyone wants more me. Moral: review no matter what.

To my fellow Americans: Happy Thanksgiving! Snape hopes you all stuff yourselves on turkey and die, but don't worry, I don't. He's just jealous 'cause I smashed a sweet potato in his face.