Chapter Twenty-one: In Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom

The door to the infirmary burst open with the boom of Thor's mighty thunder stick. Dumbledore, his face more shadowy than an inky storm cloud, ruptured the boundary between the hallway and infirmary. So dark and menacing was his extreme look that all who beheld him recoiled into silence and were given the true understanding of why he was the most feared wizard in the world.

"You two…" he seethed.

Bridgit and Cora shrank back in fear from his accusatory finger pointing.

"What exactly were you two doing?" He demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"Uhhh, sir. It's not their fault. In fact," Harry began, piping up from his bed.

"Mystery! Cover Mr. Potter's ears!" Dumbledore commanded Madame Pomfrey.

"Mystery?" Harry wondered aloud.

"My parents weren't sure whether I was a girl or a boy." Madame Pomfrey explained before covering his ears.

"You were placed in charge of protecting one Harold Potter and one Severus Snape. And here I come to find them in a state not of which I left them in! This one," he gestured to Harry, "has scratches! And this one," he pointed to Snape, "looks deader than usual!"

"Sir, if I may-" Sammy began, trying to defend her comrades from Hurricane Dumbledore.

"You may not!" He silenced Sammy with a glare. "There is too much at stake here for failure and I must say that I have not been impressed with your performance thus far! Your Prime Minister insisted that you would be indispensable for the times ahead, but I feel this has not been demonstrated. As it stands, we would be just as well off without you here. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't send you all back home right now. You can barely look after yourselves. You're just four more students and more liabilities than any help!" He boomed.

Bridgit could tell, in the corner of her mind that was still functioning and not frozen in terror and guilt, that Dumbledore was the kind of person who didn't get mad often, but when he did it was not something you wanted to be around, much less be the target of said anger.

"And what help have you been exactly, sir?" Sammy glared at the headmaster. "Because as I see it, we didn't just have two people to look after, but the entire student body, which hasn't enough knowledge of defensive magic to handle a situation like that. And it wasn't Bridgit and Cora's fault! How could they overcome the handicap of your crappy curriculum? Moreover, Professor Snape's current condition is the result of poor decisions that he made in the past." Sammy retorted, seething.

"In the…? Dammit, Severus!" Dumbledore's anger increased a threefold.

Lord Voldemort, in Castle Mount Snake Pit, suddenly peed his pants.

"Curses!" He hissed. "Peter!" He roared. "Peter! Get over here, you worm!"

"Yes my lord." Peter hustled into the room and shook with fright.

"I appear to be incontinent. Fetch me the Depends." He commanded.

"Yes my lord!" He scurried from the room.

"Uhhh…sir? I'm having a little trouble finding them." A muffled voice called from the hallway.

"They're not in the closet! They're in the bathroom pantry!" Voldemort howled.

"Right! Sorry m'Lord!" Peter scampered back into the room and presented the desireable.

"Finally!" He snatched them from his servant's one hand, because the nicer hand had been melted down and pawned off in order to buy some sweet new rides for his soldiers of death. "Finally." He repeated. "The one thing I can actually count on. Now, Wormtail, fetch Nagini and help me into my diaper!"

"Severus!" Dumbledore shouted at Snape's prone form. "I know you're for all intents and purposes in a coma…a magical coma…but you can still hear me! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get new teachers into this death trap of a school? I just got Summersong, how the hell am I gonna get a replacement for you while you're incapacitated? And what were you doing, saving a student like that? I told you: they're all expendable!" He stopped and looked sheepishly at his small chamber audience. "Except for you." He squeaked.

"Calm down!" Mystery shouted. "This is no one's fault! It's He-who-must-no-be-named's fault. He's the one who planned this and sent the bad things!"

Dumbledore calmed down and visibly deflated.

"You're right, Mystery. I should not be taking my anger out on our exchange students. Bridgit. Cora. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Sure….just don't kill me." Cora was still a little ashen-faced.

"Is he going to be okay?" Bridgit turned to Madame Pomfrey.

"In short, no. In addition to what Reagan did, we managed to slow the poison an additional 200%. But that will only buy us so much time. From dying in one minute, his life has been lengthened to a week. Then, he will invariably go to the big Quidditch match in the sky. It's a shame, really," she sighed, "he doesn't like quidditch." (She failed logic.)

"Not like Quiddtich?" Harry, his hand earmuffs being removed, heard this last remark. His world felt like it was falling apart around him.

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Cora asked as everyone ignored him.

"I'm afraid that no one here knows of any cure for this poison." Madame Pomfrey said.

"What about Reagan? Did you ask him?" Bridgit asked hopefully.

Madame Pomfrey just shook her head sadly. Seeing there was no one useful present to get information from, the two headed towards the door.

"Just a moment, ladies. I have something for you." Madame Pomfrey bustled up to them, as though she had suddenly gained something meaningful to say.

She handed them two booklets.

"These will probably come in handy." She winked at them and went back to force-feeding Harry strained apricots.

Bridgit and Cora looked alarmed and quickly backed out of the room, lest they meet a fate worse than prune juice.

"What did you get?" Cora asked.

"'Coping with your loss'. What about you?"

"'How to counter depression'."

There was a moment of silence.

"Good to see that she's really rooting for Snape." Bridgit muttered.

"Sucks to that! I have decided that we're going above and beyond the mission! We're going to save him!" Cora shouted resolutely at the empty castle walls.

"Uhhh…why?" Bridgit asked. "Really…why? We don't have to."

"He didn't have to save me, but he did!" Cora countered, looking shocked. "The least we can do is return the favor!"

"I dunno…I think maybe all that useless slug puss might have gotten to my brain, but a certain little voice is saying 'no'." Bridgit folded her arms across her chest.

"And my fist says 'yes'!" Cora stomped on Bridgit's foot.

"That's not your fist!" She whined.

"Good. It's settled." Cora dragged her friend down the hallway.

The two dropped their booklets in a silent pledge and continued on.

"What do we do now?" Bridgit asked.

"We need information and no questions asked." Cora summed it up. "I say we find Summersong."

"Agreed." Bridgit nodded.

At first, Bridgit had felt that they should not, in fact, go find a cure for Snape. Despite the fact that they both owed him, it was ludicrous. They had no idea where it was and only a fleeting hope they could recover it before a week was up. It made more sense to stay behind at the castle because Voldemort's attacks had been escalating in time and magnitude. If this pattern continued, both the castle and Harry would be in grave danger within a very short period of time. She kept her mouth shut for now, but if the antidote was too obscure, she was going to put her foot down.

Cora had somewhat less dark thoughts on her mind. She had already decided she was going to successfully save Snape and then lord it over him to earn her a lifetime of favors. She let this thought ring loudly through her mind to drown out the large feeling of guilt coursing through her thought valves.

"What do we do now?" Bridgit asked to break the oppressive silence.

"Are you deaf? We're going to find Summersong!" Cora stabbed Bridgit with her hurtful words.

"I will get there first!" Bridgit hurrahed, taking off at a sprint.

"No! I want to win~!" Cora screamed, fanagling after her friend.

Professor Summersong's door was uncharacteristically shut. Too bad for them.

Ba-CRASH! Ka-THUMP!

Both separately and of their own free will ran into Professor Summersong's office door.

"Who is it?" Her singsong voice called out.

"It is us." Bridgit moaned, picking her broken body up from the floor.

"Just let me put these essays away. After the last time a student saw me marking them, I got in trouble. Oh, Miss Grainger, ever the nosey one." She chuckled from behind the door.

There was the scraping of a key in the lock and the door swung open. A strange, heavy smell hung in the air. Summersong wafted the clouds of smoke out from the doorway and gestured for the two to come in. She then shut the door and locked it behind her again. Bridgit and Cora caught sight of a large, bubbling cauldron in the middle of the room.

"This doesn't look like essays…" Bridgit stared around the now messy room, strewn with various substances and strange-looking items.

"Uh…yes it is. What do you think I do with the bad ones?" She picked up an essay. "Here Mr. Cauldron…yummy yummy, eat up." She offered lamely.

"Uhhh…we can come back later." Cora stared dubiously at the clearly lying professor.

"All right, girls. I'll level with you. I'm making a potion." She sighed, chucking the essay into the fire.

"I knew it!" Bridgit exclaimed, satisfied with the explanation at once.

"Oh my gosh…are you gunning for Snape's job?" Cora asked incredulously.

"What?"

"You know that he wanted your job, right? You guys could've just traded!" Bridgit added.

"Oh, God no. Who would want the job of teaching idiots to brew volatile potions? No thank you." She shuddered. "No, Severus and I have known each other from an earlier, darker time. We're not always on the best of terms, but I suppose we're the closest thing either of us has to a friend. Plus he's my drinking buddy and I do NOT want to be stuck with Trelawney."

"That's kind of sad." Cora noted.

"…But what's the potion for?" Bridgit asked again, pointing to the bubbling cauldron in the middle of the room, in case the others had forgotten it was there.

"Idiot." Cora sighed.

"I was attempting to brew a potion to hopefully extend the limited time Severus has. I'm afraid, alas, that I was never very good at potions, so it probably won't work. Oh well. At least I tried." She shrugged.

"Don't give up! There must be someone who has an antidote!" Cora cried.

"Actually, that's kind of why we're here." Bridgit began, "We know you won't stop us when we say that we're planning to probably go and find the antidote. We just don't know where it is or how to get it."

Summersong looked pensive for a moment.

"I'm not sure how helpful this will be, but I know where you could potentially find the information you're looking for. It is quite reasonable to assume, don't you think, that the antidote will be in the hands of those who poisoned him?" She suggested to them.

"You mean the Deatheaters?" Bridgit's insides went a little cold.

She nodded.

"Does anyone know where they are?" Cora asked hopefully.

"If we knew that, do you think we would just leave them there?" Professor Summersong sighed.

Like her younger self, Cora seemed to get steeped in her own emotions to the point where she forgot to look where she was going.

"Well, Fine! We'll just go find them, then." Cora announced, heading out the door.

"Yes…just like that." Professor Summersong muttered.

"Cora, you're not being reasonable." Bridgit stopped her friend. "I think that, unless we know where it is and how to get it, we don't have the time to go gallivanting about. We have a mission here and I have a strong feeling that Voldemort's armies are going to attack us within the next little while and we can't afford to be out while that's happening."

"Yes, thank you Professor Trelawney! Do you have anything more substantial than these feelings?" Cora demanded proof.

"Well…" Bridgit stopped for a moment.

The feeling was there, very strong. She'd always had a knack for strategy and it just seemed like that would be the sensible next move for them to take, seeing as his smaller scale attempts had been abysmal failures. She knew this, just not why.

"It's what makes sense!" She finally said. "Are you going to throw away your responsibility to everyone else's lives just to maybe save one? It's not- just- we're needed here! Protect the numbers here!"

"Girls…"

"Yes we should save one! There are no numbers! There are no figures! Just people! These numbers you keep talking about are just a collection of ones! He may be sour grapes, but we can't just abandon him like that without even trying! Why should I value strangers above friends? What about loyalty? Don't you even care?" Cora was starting to turn red in the face.

"But we have nothing! No ideas, no locations, no point! We aren't going to just stumble onto any particular antidote. If the British Ministry hasn't been able to find their base, what makes you think two stupid teenage kids will? This isn't like a fantasy book, Cora! This is real life. Bad things happen and it's up to those left to carry on and to protect what's important! Even Snape would say that if he was here!" Bridgit looked furiously at her friend. "If we're going to be any value to the mission, we have to be here! Don't put that at risk just because you feel guilty!"

"Girls…"

"Fine! You're right! I'm stupid and no good and everyone would be better off if I wasn't here because I ruin everything! I won't spoil your strategic value, then. I'll go do it myself!" Cora screamed and ran from the room.

"We don't need sentiment. What we need right now is power." Bridgit growled after her friend, glaring at her receding figure.

She turned to say something to Professor Summersong and stopped, feeling prickles going up her spine. Professor Summersong was ashen-faced, looking like she had seen a ghost. Although, not the typical ones, mind you. More the ones that reside in your memory; those are ultimately more frightening. Bridgit stopped in confusion, feeling as though she had somehow done something wrong.

"What's wrong, Professor?" She asked softly.

She gave Bridgit a strange look.

"I'm not sure." Came her hushed reply. "But maybe you should think more about why we're fighting and not how. We're fighting an idea. Loss or victory is inconsequential. The only way to beat the idea is to live by a different one; no matter what happens."

"But…I don't understand. If we don't care about loss or victory, then why do we even bother fighting?"

"The very reason we fight is because our ideals call for us to protect those who can't fight."

"If our ideals are so important, then why not pull out all the stops?"

"Because you want to be able to live with yourself and what you've done afterwards." Summersong finished quietly and then headed out the door.

Bridgit stood in stunned silence, completely baffled, listening to her fading footsteps. She walked from the room, not caring where she was going, and just kept on walking, her mind plagued by thoughts and uncomfortable questions.

How could Cora not understand? Why did Summersong seem to take her side? She wasn't wrong, was she? It wasn't like one person could take on an army and defeat it themselves. Numbers wereimportant and getting the greatest good for the greatest number should have been their primary focus.

"Why can't Voldemort just go senile? Then we wouldn't have a problem." She muttered to herself.

She looked up and realized she had wandered to Dumbledore's secret lair. Before she could turn around and head off somewhere else, the secret door opened and out came a strangely blank-looking Dumbledore. He suddenly noticed her and his face broke into an airy grin.

"Why, hello Miss Firecatcher. How are you this afternoon? Good I trust. Let's go and have a cup of tea, shall we?" Not waiting for a response, he grabbed her by the wrist and ushered her up some stairs into his office.

"Actually, sir…I'm not exactly doing so great." She admitted.

"Perfect! Blueberry raspberry it is!" Dumbledore sat her down on a comfy chair in front of his desk, sat down in his own plush chair, and conjured up some fruity-smelling tea. "I must say that I am impressed with your child's academic achievement. Furthermore, sir or madame, I am especially pleased with the positive addition your child name has had to our school community. Do you have any questions about Hogwart's?"

"Actually…why are there so many redundant and stupid secret passageways and rooms?" Bridgit asked the one question that had plagued her mind. "And why are some of them dangerous?"

"Nothing at Hogwart's is at all dangerous, sir or madame. In fact, your beloved little name has absolutely nothing to fear. Here at Hogwart's, a student has never died. Ever. Or been neglected. Ever. And the secret rooms are full of educational stimuli so that students can perfect their craft while being completely safe at all times. Thank you for shopping at Hogwart's elementary school. We hope you will stop by in the future." He finished.

"…Uhhh…but-"

"Do you like Quidditch? Here at Hogwart's, Quidditch exists in its purest form. It is quite exciting, but perfectly safe, I might add. The worst injury to date is when young Mr. Potter, yes, the famous one, laughed too much and got a stitch in his side from all the fun he was having."

"Okay…I know that one was a lie. What's wrong with you?"

"Why, nothing, Miss Firecatcher. What ever would give you that idea? I am not lying." Dumbledore smiled emptily.

"Yes you are! Who the hell are you? Not even the real Dumbledore is this bizarre!" Bridgit stood up and took some steps backwards in case she needed to protect herself from this hideous imposter.

"I know!" She continued on a sudden flash of insight. "You're his evil twin and that's not your real head! It's a false one!" She ran up to the Dumbposter, grabbed him by the forehead and twisted his head.

Like she had anticipated, the head came free with very little trouble at all.

"Ah ha! Now I see you for who you really are: Severedhead!" Bridgit crowed, facing her faceless opponent.

Instead of leaping to action, the headless body suddenly fell over onto its side. Upon impact, it shattered into hundreds of pieces. Bridgit stared at it in horror.

"Oh God…I killed him….Does anyone have any glue? I killed the headless master of disguise!" Bridgit looked around nervously, not sure of what to do.

How could he reveal the location of the Deatheater's secret lair if he was dead?

"What have I done?" Bridgit moaned.

"By the looks of things, you've destroyed my secret liar." Dumbledore sighed as he entered the room.

"Your secret liar? Don't you mean lair?" She asked, dropping a lamp and breaking it.

"No. This is my office. This," he gestured to the shattered being, "was my secret liar. You see, Miss Firecatcher, through my years of teaching I have learned that parents don't really want to know the truth about their child's academic record and I, as an upholder of learning, cannot tell a lie. So, I created this golem, the Dumbledore liar, to go to those tedious parent – teacher interviews in my place. I usually keep it locked in the closet, but it appears dear Rufus had escaped and met a tragic end by your capable hands." He sighed. "I shall have to make a new one."

"Right. Well, sorry about your Rufus…I'll just be on my way before I can ruin anything else." She kicked over a cabinet full of fine bone china.

"I couldn't help but notice that you seem a little…out of sorts." Dumbledore prompted. "Seeing as there's tea ready, why don't you join me for some?"

He gestured to the chair she had been sitting in, which rightened itself. With a wave of his wand, he fixed everything in the room and Rufus' remains vanished.

"Well, not like I have anywhere else to be." She discreetly tucked her schedule into her pocket and sat down.

"You seem a little less sprightly than usual. I must apologize for my earlier outburst. Severus is a good friend of mine and I reacted quite strongly. I hope that I did not damage your well-being with my tirade of abuse."

"No…it's not so much that. Although I must admit that it did not leave me with any degree of the warm fuzzies. It's just an argument that I was having with Cora. The heart of the matter is that she would rather gamble on saving one life than maintaining the larger number. It's all well and good in fiction, but in real life it can pose a great tactical error that could be fatal. And I seemed to upset Professor Summersong as well, although I'm not sure why."

"As for Tigerlily's response, I can't honestly say why she would have reacted like that. However, this topic you bring up has been debated for centuries and there is no correct answer; you may both be right."

"We can't both be right!" Bridgit's linear mind found this turn incomprehensible.

"Miss Willowstaff's and your own point of view are two extremes on a continuum of options. While there is no real right answer, it is often felt that a balance will yield the best results. There should be regard for the many, but one cannot also neglect the few. Were it not for personal and, by your view, selfish relationships, human growth would be invariably stunted. Without the capacity to care for the few, one would find great difficulty caring about the many. Furthermore, it is quite damaging to the human psyche not to feel important. So, while there are times where one must keep the larger picture in mind, one must never neglect their friends and family." Dumbledore rambled on in his old man way.

Bridgit looked pensive for a moment.

"So essentially, you're saying that caring about a smaller number of people is what combines and adds up to the greater good? And that the bigger picture and the smaller picture are, in the end, the same?" She sought clarification.

"What is a line but a disconnected circle?" Dumbledore smiled.

"What is a parallelogram but a rectangle sat on by a fat guy?" Bridgit replied.

Dumbledore smiled, almost a little sadly.

"I rather enjoyed having this conversation with you. As I suspected, you're not as vapid as you pretend to be when you're putting on a show for those around you."

Bridgit was a little taken aback and laughed weakly while looking quickly at her shoes.

"Well, you're not as senile as you pretend to be when you're trying to avoid the responsibility of student endangerment." She conceded.

"Touché." Dumbledore mused.

"Don't worry, sir. I won't tell anyone if you don't." Bridgit swore.

"Very well. Although I hope someday you'll have the faith in those around you to take your mask off and just be yourself."

"Tch. That'll be the day." Bridgit muttered as she sauntered out of his office in silent thanks.

The door slammed behind her.

"You're welcome, Miss Firecatcher." Dumbledore smiled knowingly.

"Stupid Bridgit!" Cora kicked over a suit of armor in her running angry rampage down the hallway.

"Say there, young lady! That's not very good manners!" One of the embroidered tapestry people called after her.

"Shut up you- you- Bawaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!" Cora burst into tears.

"I say! It is not gentlemanly behavior to make a young wench cry." Sir Cadogan, who was hanging out in a bathing lady's picture, butted in.

The tapestry man appeared embarrassed. "It's nothing to worry about. Just don't do it aga- hey! What are you doing?" He was interrupted while trying to comfort her.

Cora had buried her face in the tapestry and was openly sobbing into its ancient woven threads.

"You're giving me water damage! Get off! Get off!" The tapestry person squelched.

"Fine then!" She roared, ripping it off the wall.

She threw it on the floor, stomped on it, and then continued on her merry way.

"God save the Queen." The tapestry moaned.

"That wench has spirit, I say!" Sir Cadogan marveled at his new hero.

"Hey…are you okay?" A fruit bowl asked the tapestry man.

There was no reply.

~I've gotta hide somewhere. No one can know that I'm crying. I'll just duck into this bathroom.~

Cora pushed open the door to the lady's room and closed it quietly. The bathroom's interior was quite decrepit and covered in layers of disturbed dust. Brushing against cobwebs, Cora shuffled her way inside, sniffling pitifully. A ghostly head emerged from the nearest toilet.

"Oh, what ho! Another visitor!" A ghostly girl swooped forward to examine the new arrival. "If only Harry would come to visit me. Then this would be the best day of my entire existence- living included!" She cooed, having secret naughty thoughts about the living Mr. Potter.

Cora was hit by a sudden realization.

"You must be Moaning Myrtle!" She said aloud.

Myrtle, having been recognized and being around someone more miserable than herself, was on cloud nine. Cora had heard about Moaning Myrtle and her tragic death. She'd heard how the bathroom was often unusable because of the poor girl's fragile feelings at her own unmourned demise. Cora turned to this refugee of the apathetic and gave a sympathetic nod.

"You're a lot uglier than I heard. Is it true that no one cares that you're dead and they only view you as a nuisance?" She tried to make friendly conversation.

"AWAAAAAAAAAAUUUGH!" Myrtle squeal-sobbed, diving back into the u-bend of the pipe where she kept her secret pictures of Harry sleeping. Only he could cheer her up now.

"She really is a freak." Cora wiped the tears from her eyes and sat up on a sink as the floor began to flood with Myrtle's tears of sadness. "Well, at least now I can be alone."

"Guess again!" Came a disembodied voice what sounded a lot like Snape and came from a raggedy robe like Snape's! The only difference was the lack of a head protruding from the top of said raggedy robe…like…

"Severedhead!" Cora shouted in alarm.

"'Tis true! I, Severedhead, have been hiding out in the girl's washroom!" He said proudly, for unknown reasons.

"That's great…"

"And now, I'm afraid I'll have to erase your memories to protect my precious secret hideout. You understand, don't you? I really have no choice." He pitifully offered his explanation.

Cora jumped to her feet, causing a large splash in the flooded toilet water.

"There's no way I'm going to let you do that, you fink!" She roared. "I'm taking you down."

"Well, I would rather not fight and solve this quandary non-violently so that I can return to my task of…killing my brother."

Cora was certain that, if he'd had eyes and a mouth, said eyes would be roving madly while said mouth would begin frothing. He was truly Snape's brother.

"What? His being poisoned isn't good enough for you?" Cora yelled, feeling more angry than sad now.

"What? When did that happen?"

She decided to vent this new-found anger on the nearest being.

"Like you don't know!" She shouted. "Expelliarimus!"

Severedhead sounded like he gasped in surprise as he deftly managed to dodge the spell. It ricocheted off of a mirror behind the hapless villain and flew back towards Cora. She hurled herself to the ground as fast as she could, getting soaked in the process. The spell slammed into Myrtle's toilet, exploding it into shards of porcelain. A big chunk of the toilet caught Severedhead in the stomach and he doubled over. A cascade of water erupted from the wall, further flooding the bathroom.

"Boo hoo!" Myrtle cried. "Now my u-bend pipe is a gaping hole! And my pictures are ruined. I'll have to take some more."

She phased through the wall without a moment's hesitation to join Ron at his nightly Harry-watching. When she reached the boy's dorm, she was surprised to find that not only Ron, but Hedwig and Dobby were watching the young boy as he blissfully slumbered, unaware of his entourage of stalkers.

"That was well played…but what will you do against this!" Severedhead cast an empathy spell.

Cora was suddenly plunged into a strange world that she had never thought of before: other people's feelings. She could feel the pain of growing up nice in a family of evil jerks and the envy of her brother having a head, while she did not. She could even feel the desperate determination to right things once and for all, even if it cost her her life. She could feel everything and could see the world through Severedhead's tortured eyes…and she didn't care.

"Explodeus!" She blew up a nearby pipe, showering the room with a thick layer of steam. "Your empathy spells are useless against me. I'm far too selfish! Bwa ha ha ha haa!"

"I tried to end this civilly, but you leave me no choice. Aquafina!" His spell encouraged the water to become a thick fog in the room, obscuring Cora's vision.

Knowing any sound would betray her movement, she kept her mouth shut and crouched down. There was no point in taking any steps, as he would be able to hear the water plishing with each footfall.

~What am I going to do? What am I going to do?~ Cora thought desperately, knowing each passing second was tolling her doom.

"Cora? Are you in here?" The door creaked open.

The heavy mists spilled from the room and a stream of water burst through the door. Once the opaque mist had left, all could see Professor Summersong and her startled face as she took in the scene. Using the distraction to her advantage, Cora hammer-kicked Severedhead in the crotch. How, you ask? She's just that awesome.

"I have no regrets." He wheezed and then collapsed.

"Professor Summersong, look what I did! I caught the bad guy!" Cora proudly stood on the unconscious man's chest.

"That's nice, dear, but could you get off of him? I think he might be drowning." Professor Summersong prompted her most violent student.

"Fine." Cora sighed heavily, planting her precious, precious boots in more of the stupid water.

"Well, let's take care of this first, though." Professor Summersong looked about the bathroom. "Plumbus reparo!"

Nothing happened. Then, with a loud clang, a nearby grate crashed open as an army of four house elves poured out.

"We shall take care of the mess young misses." One of the surlier elves spoke up.

"Tee hee! You tease!" Summersong batted her eyelashes.

"We have tried to capture and relocate her, but the ghost simply will not leave. We've had to resort to this." One of the elves sighed, dropping a mousetrap into the toilet with a soft ploosh.

"Enough of that." Cora turned her attention back to Severedhead, whose body was mostly submerged in water, likely in the process of drowning. "Where is the rebel base?" She demanded, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him back and forth.

The unconscious man gave no reply.

"Don't make me use a phonebook!" She raised a fist threateningly.

"Miss Willowstaff, that's quite enough. He's unconscious and is unable to reply."

"Unconscious, eh? I'll beat the living daylights into him, then!" She raised both her fists and Severedhead timbered over into the water.

"No!" Professor Summersong restrained her before she hurt someone…named Severedhead. "This is what I was talking about. You really need to learn control. Emotion is all well and good, but not if it overrides your reason."

"I don't know how to ignore my feelings and why should I? Aren't people always saying you should listen to your heart and all that?"

"It is important to understand your feelings, but you also need to recognize when it's appropriate to act on them. If you're completely ruled by your emotions, then you will be controlled by things in your life that you don't want to be controlled by – like fear."

"I'm not afraid of anything!" Cora snapped.

"I think you're very much afraid. You're afraid that people will find out that you're not as strong and confident as you pretend to be." She gave Cora a level stare.

"I- You- You!" Cora stammered.

"Use your reason. What would happen if your friends figured this out about you; that you have doubts and fears?" Summersong prompted her student.

"They wouldn't want me around. They'd leave." Cora felt tears welling up inside of her eyeballs.

"Really? Do you think that's what would actually happen?"

"Yes! We're a team. We depend on each other in battle, and if they found out how useless I am, they'd leave!"

"Is all the value you place in a person based on how useful they are to you?" She gave the girl a reproachful look.

"Well…no. But…but I got cocky and let the dementor sneak up on me. I let everyone down! I'm so stupid. Why would anyone want me around?" Cora spluttered.

"You made a mistake – you're human. Everyone messes up sometimes; no one expects you to be perfect. What's important is that you learn from your mistakes so that you can do better next time." Professer Summersong continued her after school special.

"Well, I guess you're right." Cora sniffed, calming down. "I could use some more control." She conceded.

"I'm glad you understand. Now let's go get this body over to Dumbledore's." She suggested, grabbing an ankle. "On second thought, he's far too heavy and I'm too lazy to use magic right now. I'm going to conveniently leave to go get Dumbledore." She winked, heading for the door.

"Ah. I see." Cora winked back as the door swung shut behind Summersong. "Fwa hwa hwa hwa! Now I am free to use this truth serum what I pilfered from the late Snape's potion closet." Cora giggled, pouring the mixture down Severedhead's gullet.

She picked up a nearby bucket and mop. Since the bucket was metal, she smashed it with the stick end of the mop, creating a noisy din.

"WAKE UP!" She yelled.

"Gr jarh!" Severedhead started, sitting up abruptly.

"Excellent." Cora grinned. "Tell me, my dear Severedhead. Where is the location of the place where the Deatheaters are currently hiding!"

"Hrrr….I can't tell a lie. They are hiding at Castle Mount Snakepit. Really, when you think about it, it's the only logical place they'd be." He muttered sleepily.

"Where the hell is that?" Cora muttered under her breath.

Severedhead, still under the spell, took this as an actual question.

"Here. This is a map. I keep it in my sock. Castle Mount Snakepit is the large green blob in the middle." He handed her a soggy, but still legible map.

"Thanks! You've been very helpful. Too bad you don't have any free will!" She laughed harshly.

Using a fairly new spell, she stuck him to the ceiling for the authorities to find – just like a veritable Spiderman!

"Bridgit, awayyyy!" She shouted, naming her destination.

"I say, young lady!" Someone called out to her from the hallway.

She turned around to find Sir Cadogan puffing after her on a fat little pony. He stopped in a painting of a soup can to address her.

"What do you want?" Cora asked, dubious that he had anything useful to say.

"I heard through the grapevine that you apprehended the evil-doer that was menacing the school. I must congratulate you! You remind me of a young me, in fact, with all your heroic deeds and having your name feared throughout the land. Why, we could be twins!" He doddered on.

"Riiiight." Cora gave him a sidways look. "So…you're quite the fighter, eh?"

"Right! Why, just this week I wandered into a terrible doodle a student had made of a reprehensible beast that was part cat, mostly dragon and all horrifying. 'Twas an epic battle and in the end, I destroyed the monstrosity. My only regret is that I was unable to kill the student to prevent him from creating more crimes against rational thought."

"Hmmm…actually, I've just thought of a way you can redeem yourself for letting that blackguard get away!"

Bridgit was walking down the hallway, destination unknown. She needed some time to think…and some brain to do the thinking with. Cora was always a good sounding board, but Bridgit already knew what she would say. She'd tell Bridgit not to wear the green shoes, because they made her look fat.

But Bridgit liked the colour green! It went with her eyes!

Oh, the conundrum.

"Hey, Bridgit!" Cora's voice called out from behind her.

Bridgit turned around and her eyes figuratively burst from her head.

"I've found a compromise for our problem!" Cora chirped, walking next to a knight in full armor riding a small pony.

"Uhh…isn't that-" Bridgit began.

"Sir Cadogan, at your service madame. This is my noble steed, Rainbow Sunshine Baby Laugh. The third." The knight introduced his most not-illustrious self.

Rainbow Sunshine Baby Laugh III didn't bother crying. It was already dead. It just lived out its shameful existence dreaming of glue factories.

"That's great…but I can't help but notice that you're not in a painting." Bridgit was now waiting to see if the tea she had drunk hadn't been drugged.

"'Tis no illusion, I assure you. 'Tis in the flesh!" He gestured broadly.

"Just think of it as my compromise." Cora offered. "We'll leave him here in our stead to guard Harry while we go find the cure for Snape! His poisoning, I mean."

"Look, I'm not going unless you have a better idea of where to find him." Bridgit sighed, reiterating her position.

"Is this map good enough?" Cora crowed, holding up her newest favorite toy.

"And how! Let us away!" Bridgit laughed in sheer amazement, but didn't find the curiosity to ask where Cora had come by the map. There was a far more pressing question on her mind.

"So…how'd you make him flesh?" She asked.

"Well…he's not entirely flesh in the platonic sense. You see, I used one of my many honestly-begotten potions bestowed upon me by Snape's potion cabinet to temporarily bring him to three-dimensional existence. I also got this can of soup." She smiled.

"Well…that's all I need to know." Bridgit was completely satisfied with this.

"Good luck on your quest, young ladies. And never fear: I shall watch over the esteemed Prince Potter in your absence." Sir Cadogan swore. "With this new flesh body, I'll be unstoppable! Ha! Ha! Away, Sunshine Rainbow Baby Pox!" He hurrahed.

"I thought it was Rainbow Sunshine Baby Laugh the third." Bridgit wondered aloud.

"Who cares?" Cora grabbed her friend's sleeve and ushered her onwards.

They would find that life saving substance…or be mildly inconvenienced trying.