Professor Dumbledore did enjoy a cup of hot cocoa and a nice long chat with Severus Snape before bed. After enquiring about Lord Voldemort's plans for the week ahead – ("I already told you, Headmaster," Snape had glowered. "He plans to enjoy some recreation time at an upcoming Muggle funfair – no, he is no closer to deciding than before." Then Snape had muttered something about 'frivilous wastes of time' and 'the integrity of the Death Eaters being nowhere near what it once was')

"I'm considering taking up topiary," Dumbledore announced to the younger man by way of changing the topic, using his wand to retrieve the stitches Snape had dropped while, quite frankly, butchering the knitting pattern – although Albus would never tell him that.

Snape's expression had reached its usual dour depths. "Are you really," he muttered with the slightest shovelful of sarcasm, glaring at the knitting needles as if each one had personally procreated with the only woman he had ever loved in his life after spending their lifetime arrogantly pacing Hogwarts castle and hexing his younger self in every mean-spirited and completely unnecessary way possible-

"Little gentler on the needles, Severus," Dumbledore disciplined, beaming benignly at the fierce glares Snape was trying to shoot his way. "And how did you enjoy hosting Charlotte Jones in your class? From what I hear she certainly, ah, has her certain way of viewing the world!"

Snape clenched the needles tighter. "Disruptive," he growled. "Disobedient. No respect-"

Dumbledore nodded, steepling his long, thin fingers, and insightfully crossing his tartan-slipper-clad feet. "Ah, yes," he mused, looking out over the window. "But couldn't that be said for the majority of us, as well…"

Snape shook his head, muttering bitterly under his breath.

A knock at the door disconnected Dumbledore from his philosophical gazing. He waved his wand to open the door.

"Come in!" he called, taking a long, blissful sip of cocoa.

"Professor!" Hermione Granger rushed in the door, followed closely by Harry Potter and a disgruntled looking Ron Weasley.

Snape quickly and slyly transfigured the knitting into a suitably intimidating book on the Dark Arts. He had an image to keep up.

"Well, well," Dumbledore said, taking in their flustered faces. "What seems to be the matter-"

"It's Charlotte Jones, sir!" Hermione gasped. "She said she was going to bed, and now it seems like she ran out into the forest!"

Dumbledore jumped up, nimbly discarding the slippers for businesslike!cross-trainers, beckoning Snape to do the same. "Well, then we must get to the forest immediately! Follow me, Hermione, Harry, Ronald!"

With one last sip, he drained his cocoa mug. Then they strode out into the forest, to locate Charlotte Jones!

It was dark and raining.

"Great," Charlotte muttered to herself. "Just great."

She couldn't see a thing. She was torn between sitting here, twiddling her thumbs, and just kind of waiting for her night vision to kick in, or just running around madly in the dark for the hell of it with her fingers crossed, hoping to end up back where she began. Solid two good options right there.

Of course witches had no fucking flashlights. They had their fucking wands for that, didn't they.

But as she began her blind stroll through the imposing forest, her mind took her prejudices against witches in strange ways… No electricity use means less CO2 emissions, she thought to herself, quite altruistically. That definitely nips our oil crisis in the bud. No plane crashes, cause they could just magic themselves everywhere. She jumped over a patch of slippery mud. Magic means they can get whatever food or clothes they need. There goes the global food crisis. She frowned, because, if that were true she really had no idea how the wizarding economy managed at all. Maybe they don't have jobs. Maybe they just laze around in their wizarding homes all day, drinking hot chocolate and sending owls to transfer letters between themselves…

She gasped, suddenly, jumping down to hide behind a tree.

She swore she saw a bobbing light in the distance!

Naturally, Charlotte panicked. She closed her eyes, and tried to make herself really small and invisible. Then she inched one eye open, to see if the danger had passed. NO! The light continued towards her, closer and closer, and followed by four more gently bobbling lights.

Oh. My. God.

Maybe facebook withdrawal symptoms were making her crazy. Maybe she was just crazy. But instantly, a plan jumped into her head. She still had the sheet she had used to help her climb out of the window, that had torn and fallen out with her as she jumped to the ground.

"Here! Here! I'm over here!" She cried hurridly, then scampered up the nearest tree quickly, silently thanking her athletics coach for a million torturous – yet overwhelmingly convenient and beneficial! – training sessions. To her satisfaction the bobbing lights were quickly heading her way, and soon the five lights were grouped directly underneath her.

Screaming a war cry, she spread the sheet out and dove directly on top of her would-be-attackers. And then the world seemed to spin out of control again, and she woozily swirled, and swirled, and swirled, and swirled…

More reviews yay :) :) thank you so much... bit of a short chapter here but i'll finish the story within a week hahahaha i swear to you all