There was something that no one knew about Sirius Black.

He was still alive.

Even he didn't know why. He knew that he should be dead. And yet, he wasn't. He assumed that it had something to do with the curtain or whatever it was that he had fallen into, but he wasn't sure. In any case, he was never one to ponder it very often.

What he did know for certain, though, was that he needed to hide in the woods. For if anyone saw him alive, it would ruin his plan.

The plan that he had been planning out for years.

The plan to play the ultimate Halloween prank at Hogwarts.

His plan was to go there during the Halloween dinner to frighten everyone. Because everyone believed him to be dead, he was sure that the sight of him would scare all of the students shitless. Nevertheless, to ensure that his prank went well, he had cast a spell on his eyes which kept them open all the time without ever blinking. This was to make him look like a zombie.

Right now, though, there was nothing too unusal about the appearance of Sirius Black, for he was currently disguised as a dog. Of course, he was also a dog that couldn't blink, but so long as no one got to look at him for too long a period, he was safe from discovery.

It was then when he heard foot steps.

He didn't bother to hide, since he was a dog, and unless it was Fang, Hagrid's secretly cannibalistic dog, he had nothing to be afraid of.

It turned out that the foot steps were coming from two figures. One of them appeared to be a young, blonde, incredibly angsty teenager. The other one had greasy black hair and a dark robe.

He instantly knew that these two were none other than Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape.

"Are we there yet, Professor?" whined Draco. "My feet are killing me."

"Maybe your feet wouldn't be killing you if you had just killed Dumbledore like you were supposed to," snarled Snape. "And to answer your question, we are almost at the meeting place."

"I still don't know why we have to do this," said Draco. "I could care less about what's going on with the Death Eaters. Why can't I just go back home?"

"You can't go back home until we know for certain that the Dark Lord doesn't have a price on your head for disobeying his orders," said Snape. "Besides, didn't we already have this conversation over a week ago?"

"Probably," said Draco. "I'm guessing that we're having it again just so the reader can know what's going on."

"I hate it when that happens," sighed Snape.

Sirius soon observed another figure approaching Snape and Draco. He didn't know who it was, but he assumed it was a Death Eater.

"Greetings, Severus," said the Death Eater. "Are you ready to perform the secret handshake?"

"There is no way that I am spitting into the palm of my hand just so I can shake it with your own," answered Snape coldly. "What news do you have for us?"

"Plenty, Severus," he said with a nod. "Some of which is most pleasing. I'm afraid, however, that I don't know anything regarding the fate of the boy."

Draco hung his head down.

"Why didn't you do it, Malfoy?" the Death Eater asked him with exasperation. "Why didn't you kill Dumbledore?"

"I couldn't do it," Draco muttered.

"Why not?"

"Because..."

"Because what?"

"Because I had an unexpected moment of...of..."

"Of what? Mercy? Second thoughts? What pathetic excuse to you have for not following the Dark Lord's orders?"

"I had a moment of character development," said Draco very quickly. "That's what it was."

Snape and the Death Eater stared at him.

"I didn't used to be that way!" he cried. "I used to just be a mean, unlikable little boy who ripped off James Bond whenever he told someone his name."

He then began crying.

"And I didn't used to cry!" he cried. "I didn't even cry during the ending of 'Titanic'! What's wrong with me?!" He began to blow his nose on his own shrit.

"Enough of this!" snarled Snape. "I didn't walk all this way just to feel like I'm watching an episode of Oprah!" He turned to the Death Eater. "What is it that you have to tell me?"

"You should be delighted, Severus," said the Death Eater with a smile growing on his face. "There have been things revealed about Dumbledore lately that might turn more people to the Dark Lord's cause."

Snape looked unconvinced. "What sort of things?"

"Plenty!" the Death Eater practicually burst out. "You have no idea how many secrets that Dumbledore carried with him to his grave! He was actually a fan of Jar Jar Binks. Uwe Boll was his favorite movie director. He enjoyed the 'Scooby-Doo' movie!"

"All of that it is merely trivial," Snape responded. "Do you have anything that actually matters?"

"I've saved the best for last," the Death Eater told him proudly. "Rita Skeeter found out that Dumbledore...was gay!"

Sirius Black was stunned beyond words. For there was another thing about him that nobody knew. He, too, was gay. And he was madly in love with Severus Snape.

Draco Malfoy appeared to be almost as shocked by the news as he was.

"But that doesn't make any sense at all," he said. " Dumbledore couldn't have been a closeted homosexual. Wasn't he all about accepting mudbloods and stuff like that? Wasn't he one to embrace homosexuals?"

"It would seem," said the Death Eater with a chuckle, "that he was doing more embracing of them than we might've originally thought."

He then fell over laughing. Snape did not look amused.

"Is this really the best thing that the author could come up with?" he said with disgust. "He hasn't updated this thing in almost two years, and the best thing that he can do is make some cheap gay jokes?"

"Apparently, that's the case," said the Death Eater, but he continued laughing anyway.

"Besides, it's not even news to me," said Snape. "I knew about Dumbledore's secret long before he died."

The Death Eater finally stopped laughing.

"What are you saying, Sevurus?" asked the Death Eater. "Are you meaning to say that you knew that Dumbledore was gay all along?"

"You forget, my good sir, that I needed to earn his complete trust," said Snape. "I knew that I was on the right path one Monday morning when Dumbledore himself told me that he had something that he wanted to show me. He then opened up his closet door and revealed that it was full of dresses."

"Merlin's Beard!" the Death Eater exclaimed. "What happened then?"

"He wanted for me to put one of them on so he could take my photo," said Snape simply. "Naturally, I refused. But I did agree to let him stroke my hair every now and again, as a way to continue holding his good trust."

"You let him stroke your hair?" the Death Eater gasped. "Did he ever do anything more to you than that?"

Snape ignored him.

"The news that you have given me is completely useless," he said. "Most wizards think too highly of Dumbledore to think him capable of keeping secrets, and even if they believe the things that they hear about him, it will probably do little more than earn him more sympathy."

The Death Eater frowned.

"I thought that you'd be happy with me," he said softly.

"I will not be happy," said Snape, "Until you find out what the Dark Lord intends to do with Malfoy! I'm not sure if I can last much longer camping with him out here in the woods before I'm forced to behead him."

Draco looked extremely uneasy.

"Very well," said the Death Eater, looking very grumpy. "I will try to find out what you wish to know."

"If you can't," said Snape coldy, "Don't even bother coming back."

"I do have some news for you that might interest you a bit," said the Death Eater. "It involves none other than Harry Potter himself. I've heard that he's found the fake website that the Dark Lord put on the muggle internet for him, and that's he taken the bait."

"Proving that he is even more like his father than I originally thought," said Snape. "Now, leave us. Me and the boy have to set up our tent for the night."

The Death Eater bowed his head down and went off on his eay. Snape didn't even bother waving goodbye to him.

Not too far away, Voldemort was shouting the Elder Swear and Bagman and Greg for how they had handled their prisoner.

And at the same time, the Phantom of the Opera was sneaking into Hogwarts. It was finally time for him to get his revenge.