Chapter Sixteen: Where's My Spectacles?
"Where's my spectacles?" Dumbledore queried, searching throughout the staff room as he spoke.
"I don't know!" Professor McGonagall replied for the sixteenth time. Dumbledore felt somewhat affronted, as she obviously wasn't looking hard enough.
"They're on your hat." Professor Snape sighed, still mourning the loss of his horns.
"Ah, so they are! I'm afraid when one's mind is occupied with greater thoughts one forgets the little things." Dumbledore sighed, sliding his half-moon spectacles off of his tall pointy hat and onto his nose.
"That's a nice way to say senile." Professor Snape muttered under his breath.
"I say, Albus, I just noticed. Why does Professor Binns never come to these staff meetings? As a minor character myself, I would also like to not come. So why must I be invited?" Professor Flitwick complained.
"Well, he's dead so we don't pay him. You, on the other hand, are a full-fledged staff member." McGonagall said, eyeing him coldly. "You have to suffer like the rest of us."
"Tee Hee!" Bridgit and Cora giggled. "You said member!"
"Girls!" Professor Summersong scolded them. "Get your minds out of the gutter!"
The two briefly hung their heads in shame as a sign of respect, then quietly resumed snickering as the conversation continued to unfold.
"Well," Trelawney began, pretending to be important, "the other day I was in my walnut garden and found two of the largest, most plump walnuts I have ever seen. So, grasping them firmly I plucked them from their twig and brought them promptly back to my residence. Using walnut divination, I was able to determine a crucial fact." Everyone leaned forwards in anticipation. Trelawney smiled and savored the dramatic tension as much as she could. "The important fact is…" Everyone leaned even closer, "Voldemort is alive!"
There was a pause and everyone continued staring at her.
"Well, that was enlightening as ever." Snape sneered at her.
"How could we ever manage without you?" Professor McGonagall continued.
"A-BURN!" They shouted together, exchanging a high five.
Then, realizing what they had just done, they looked in disgust at the hands that had made contact and wiped them on their robes. It was most reprehensible.
"Yes, while I enjoyed middle school as well, that chapter of my life ended several hundred years ago." Dumbledore dryly interrupted their stupidity. "So, onto actually important matters: I am faced with the decision of whether or not to close the school and send everyone home in light of this potentially lethal attack at the Yule Ball."
There was a pause during which no one looked surprised at all. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at his faculty.
"What? Nothing? Not even a disinterested cough?"
"Sorry… you've just said that so many times that it's lost its impact." Professor Flitwick spoke for the collective.
"Well," Reagan piped up, "maybe you actually should close down the school. I mean, everyone at that dance could have died!"
"Well, maybe you should go back to Canada!" Snape growled at him. "You guys too." He added as an afterthought to Bridgit and Cora.
Snape, disliking Sammy the most, didn't waste words and instead threw a heavy newt paperweight at her.
"But…but we're the good guys. Nothing bad happens to us!" Dumbledore protested.
"Not to agree with noodlehead over there," Professor McGonagall gestured towards Snape, who growled in response, "but closing is something we simply cannot do. We've stayed open throughout all those other disasters; it's become tradition! We're like 7-11, through wind or shine or attempted murder, we're always open."
"You know there's actually a valid reason for potentially keeping the school open." Sammy began.
"Yes! Grumpy one is right! Listen to him." Dumbledore prompted.
"Her. I'm a girl. As I was saying, keeping the school open is the only way to draw out Voldemort's operative. Given the style and methods of attack, we can undoubtedly expect another attempt. Then we can catch Severedhead and extract the information out of him."
Everyone nodded at this except for Reagan who looked aghast.
"So we'll just use Harry as bait?" He demanded.
"Well, it's no more dangerous than the stuff I usually leave for him to do." Dumbledore admitted.
"But Severedhead has already shown he doesn't care about killing innocents with this latest attempt. What about the rest of the students?" Reagan persisted although it was obvious the decision had been made.
"I agree that the other students are in danger but there is really no other convenient way." Professor Summersong said soothingly. "We will of course increase school security to try and avoid any unfortunate incidents."
"Yes, I will have Filch conduct a complete search of the school and in the meantime, as stringent as it sounds, I'll place a ban on all music in the school. That is the only way to make sure another assassination attempt can't be concealed." Dumbledore explained.
Everyone nodded. Although somewhat radical, they knew ridiculous conservatism was the best they could do. Gold star for effort.
"By the way… Who won the dance competition?" Cora spoke up.
"Oh, come on! This is hardly the time." Sammy whacked her upside the head.
"I disagree." Tigirs kicked Sammy in the shins.
"Stop it, children!" Professor Summersong kicked them all. "Violence is never the answer."
"Well, technically since both Miss Firecatcher and Miss Willowstaff's couples were the last on the dance floor, the contest resulted in a draw. So you both must share the peanuts." Dumbledore handed over the meager pouch.
"Hooray!" Bridgit and Cora cheered, digging into the contents.
"But I must warn you," Dumbledore rambled on, "the fruits of dishonest labour are never as sweet."
"Yum! Peanuts!" Cora smacked her lips.
"They're roast-a-licious!" Bridgit misread the label.
Dumbledore visibly deflated at the flagrant disregard for wisdom.
"At least you still like me." He muttered to some finger puppets.
"What about your dance partners?" Reagan gently teased them. "Don't they deserve some peanuts too?"
"No! They can burn in hell!" Cora snarled.
"A peanut-less hell!" Bridgit foamed.
"Something just occurred to me." Reagan turned to Dumbledore. "This is a private school, how come you could only afford a bag of peanuts for a prize? I mean, I could understand a public school…"
"Oh…well…" Dumbledore began uneasily. "I lavishly spent all the money on tacky furniture with which I could adorn the castle."
Everyone looked shocked at his frivolousness.
"But-but Trelawney blew a bunch of it on internet stocks!" Dumbledore quickly shifted some of the blame.
"Well I figured Moonshoes! + Astrology! = Yes! However the stars were not in my favor. I probably should have checked them first." Trelawney sighed.
"Dammit! I could have spent that money on gross, shriveled things in jars!" Snape swore.
"In the interests of sanity, this meeting is adjourned." Dumbledore sighed.
Everyone cheered and ran away, except for Snape who continued to cry.
"Oh, get over it man! They weren't that great." Dumbledore prompted Snape to move on.
"But those horns were the best things to happen to me in years." Snape moaned.
"You need to get laid." Dumbledore then left.
"I'm not pathetic…" Snape muttered. "I think I'll spend the rest of the day planning evil things to do to Harry Potter. Then they'll see how not pathetic I am!" Snape smiled evilly, the sun sinking behind the clouds of his metaphorical existence.
"Just drink it stupid!" Cora shoved a potion towards Moonmist. She, Bridgit and their still human dragonettes were in the hallway outside of the staff room waiting for Snape to come out so they could guard him. Sammy and Reagan were there too.
"No! I like being big! I pushed over six people today and one kid even gave me his lunch money." Moonmist protested.
"Well I can't argue with that." Cora sighed, faced with a dilemma.
"I can push people too! See?" Tigerscry beamed, pushing Moonmist against a wall and shoving the potion down his throat. There was a gurgling sound as Moonmist tried to avoid choking, then in a poof of smoke he returned to normal.
Nooo! You idiot! Moonmist cried.
"Truly you are the saint of the school." A raggedy, beaten-up looking boy named Consonants rasped. (His cruel, cruel parents were linguists.) "Thank you for ridding us of that awful tyrant!"
"No Problem!" Tigerscry beamed.
"Get out of here!" Cora shoved Consonants out of the way.
"The cycle of violence continues!" The boy wailed as he ran away.
"My turn!" Tigerscry downed the potion and promptly returned to her usual self.
"Well, I'm glad that's over." Bridgit sighed.
At that moment, but only at that moment, Neville bustled up to them, slightly out of breath.
"Have either of you seen Aravella anywhere?" He panted.
"Who?" Cora looked rather bored.
"Ummm…she went back to Canada. In the North Pole." Bridgit lied.
"No! I didn't even get to say goodbye. She was my one true love and now I'll never see her again!" He protested.
"Ummm… if it's fate, you'll meet again." Bridgit lamely offered flimsy advice.
"By the code, you're right! I'll never give up hope!"
He skipped away down the hallway greatly depressing everyone else.
"That poor boy will cry himself to sleep for the rest of his life." Reagan sympathetically watched him as he soldiered on.
"See what happens when you disregard the laws of nature to create dance partners?" Sammy snapped. "People get hurt! In all senses of the word."
"I stand by my decision. Crushing his heart was totally worth the peanuts." Cora sniped as she downed the final peanut, the sorrow and ruin surrounding it making its flavour all the sweeter.