"I could curse you into a cationic state without so much as blinking, you inebriated nutcase!" –Twisted Biscuit, "Just a Random Tuesday…"
As Gudrun Sinistra entered the staff room, she was intrigued to observe a life-size effigy of Sibyll Trelawney, formed from some waxy, yellow substance that she couldn't identify, standing next to Severus Snape's favourite chair, apparently attempting to steal a kiss from its occupant. "Well, now," she inquired, "what's the occasion for this?"
"No occasion," said Snape. "Sibyll was annoying me with her drunken attentions, so I turned her into a cationic compound. Behentrimonium chloride, I think, but don't quote me on that."
"Ah." Sinistra nodded sympathetically. "Yes, I think all of us would understand that impulse. But why cationic, particularly?"
"Well, you know how I feel about anionic compounds," said Snape. "Why do you think I haven't shampooed in fifteen years?"
"Without Alice, there could have been no Dorcas Meadows." –Third Time Charm, "All for Love"
As the Longbottoms were assessing their finances for the coming month, one of their mistily luminous tenants came up to them and clasped Frank's hand. "Oh, Master Longbottom," he said, evidently near tears, "how can I thank you enough for this bucolic refuge from the mortal world's woes? You are a great man, truly."
Frank smiled. "My pleasure, Hiram," he said. "You do me too much credit, though. I'm glad to have done what I could, but, if you want to see real greatness, you should look at Alice here."
Alice blushed. "Oh, Frank, don't be silly," she said. "This whole project was your idea, and you know it. When Morfin Gaunt shattered the Resurrection Stone and rent the barrier between life and death, I would never have thought to create a magical rest home for all the souls thus returned from the grave – and, even if I had, I wouldn't have had the magical skill to pull it off."
"That may be," said Frank, "but, without your brains and practicality, I'm sure this place could never have gotten off the ground. Even its name had to be your idea; I wouldn't have known my Bible well enough to find one so fitting."
"Well, be it so," said Hiram. "But, whoever's was the inspiration, the result has blessed me and mine past measure, and eternity will be too brief a span for us to duly commend the peace we have found here."
"I'm glad, Hiram," said Frank softly. "Peace is what we strive for, here at Dorcas Meadows."
"The Main were the wizards and witches closest to Lord Voldemort, a following protected by indiscretion." –BooJelly, "Pansy Parkinson and the Death Eaters"
"Are those our colleagues, up on that balcony?" said Snape, gesturing to a dinner party of well-dressed wizards and witches whose careless chatter of Unforgivable Curses and soul-shattering crimes could be heard clearly from where he and Lucius Malfoy stood on the street below.
"Those are the Main," said Malfoy with a curt nod. "The Dark Lord believes that indiscretion is the best way of being discreet; he says that the Order would hunt us out if we hid in darkness, but that, if you plot the overthrow of wizarding civilisation openly and in broad daylight, nobody will ever believe you mean it. And thus we flaunt our schemes before the public – as you see – and the public says that we are a lot of jolly ladies and gentlemen who play at being Dark wizards."
Snape nodded thoughtfully. "It seems a very clever idea," he said.
Malfoy turned sharply and glared at him, as though he had uttered the most colossal impudence. "Clever!" he repeated witheringly. "When you've seen the Dark Lord for a split second, you'll leave off calling him clever!"
Then he controlled himself, and managed a crooked half-smile. "But never mind. Just go up there and make yourself acquainted with the others; I'll be along presently. Tell the witch at the desk that you're Thursday; she'll know what to do."
"That which had been a corps began to, once again, slowly reacquaint itself with the conscious movement of life." –UnLike Us, "Myrtle's Strange Gift"
"What d'you reckon?" said one long-dead Rebel to another, as the thousands of gray-clad men who had made up the I Army Corps of Northern Virginia mulled about the deserted English village, growing accustomed once again to the sensation of walking and breathing. "Last Trump, voodoo magic, or something else again?"
As his comrade confessed his ignorance, a cold, high-pitched voice echoed through the village, and all the Confederates turned to see a dark-robed, inhuman figure standing at the centre of the town square. "Greetings, my servants," he said. "I am Lord Voldemort, mightiest of wizards, and I have called you forth from the grave that you might be privileged to help me cleanse the Earth of Mudblood vermin. For a great pollution threatens the pure wizarding blood; those of non-magical stock claim equality with our oldest houses, and must be taught their rightful place."
"Very good, sir," said a new voice, and General Longstreet strode forward and placed himself before the wizard Lord. "But what has that to do with us? We are no wizards; only a few loyal sons of Virginia who sought to preserve their country from Northern aggression."
Voldemort laughed. "Come now, General," he said. "It is well known that your side's object in fighting the American Civil War was solely to preserve the inequality of the races. You needn't keep up the flimsy pretence of concern for your cultural heritage; my conscience needs no such palliation to…"
He broke off in sudden alarm as the General whipped his sword from its sheath and pointed it toward him. "Sir," said Longstreet, his voice tight with fury, "perhaps you know as little of the men of the South as you seem to, and are unaware of how they receive insults such as yours. In consideration of your ignorance, I give you one minute to retract your remarks; if you will not, I shall await you and your second on the field of honor – for I suppose that, having been summoned from the grave to do battle with wizards, I am now adequately equipped to fight a duel with one."
Voldemort considered briefly, and then waved his hand. "Be it so," he said. "I have misjudged you, it seems. Return to your graves, men of Dixie; I shall find more zealous defenders of blood purity."
