"November, 197: 'What are you doing, Evans?'" –blanketyblank, "On the Division of Chaos"*
"What does it look like?" said Lily, her wand quivering in her hand. "I found the notes of your plan to assassinate Septimius Severus under cover of his Parthian campaign; I drank the potion to follow you back to the 2nd-Century Near East, and now I'm here to prevent you. I understand that you hate your name, Severus, and I sympathise, but I can't let you cause incalculable distortions in history just to erase your namesake's main achievement."
"No?" Snape arched an eyebrow. "It seems to me, Evans, that you already have."
Lily blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You didn't think I would wait until the actual battle to strike, did you?" said Snape. "I slipped into the Emperor's tent half an hour ago and laced his wine goblet with a fast-acting poison. It should finish its work right about… yes, right about now."
Even as he spoke, Lily felt the shudder of the time-shift run through her; her wand vanished out of her hand, her robes became suddenly coarser and heavier, and (what struck her, somehow, as the most disturbing detail of all) her hair against her shoulders changed from red to chestnut-brown. Her knees shook, and she whispered, in a voice that hardly seemed her own, "What have you done?"
Caracalla Snape only smiled.
"I'm sorry if I'm giving a lecture but you and Ron kept me on a very tight leech[,] Hermione." –sonotalady, "Prediction, No Thank You!"†
"I know," Hermione said, and giggled. "It was rather hilarious, actually, watching you struggle with your mount as it wallowed drunkenly about in the swamp. I didn't even know leeches could get tight, much less that they could be as pissed as all that after a few seconds in a half-empty beer bottle."
"That's what I'm saying," said Harry. "If it hadn't been for you and Ron casting Seta-Adhesive Spells on me every few minutes, I could never have stayed on; I'd be a drowned corpse at the bottom of Teensyteen Marsh right now. So you can imagine how reluctant I am to showcase my Quidditch expertise by playing a demonstration match on wasp-back; who knows what kind of liquor source that mount will end up having wandered into?"
Hermione nodded. "Fair enough," she said. "Go ahead and just give the lecture, Harry. It's fine with me, and I'm sure it'll impress the Wee Folk just as much."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Harry sighed. "I just hope Dumbledore's right about the tinies being valuable allies. I don't see, myself, how much a race of three-inch sport fanatics is really going to contribute to the war against Voldemort – certainly not when the other side has giants."
"A bee can sting a bear, Harry," said Hermione loftily. "Now come on, let's see your lecture notes."
"That was it. A quick kiss on the check and they were done, free from the monstrous mistletoe." –rainbowspring, "Mistletoe Mayhem"
Draco and Astoria ran like bats out of Hell until they'd reached the end of Knockturn Alley; then, turning the corner into Diagon, they dropped against the wall of Gringotts and leaned wearily against each other, panting for breath and listening to their goblin savior battle the monstrous parasitic bush that had so nearly devoured them.
"You didn't have to do it, you know," Draco murmured.
"Oh, don't be silly, Draco," Astoria replied faintly. "One of us had to, and what use would you have been to Gringotts? You can barely scrape your way through elementary Arithmancy, and as for…"
She broke off and sat up abruptly as a familiar figure loped out of the neighbouring Alley. "Griphook!" she said. "Is it… did you…"
"Yes, it's taken care of, Miss Greengrass," said Griphook with a wry smile. "Mistletoe may be a bane of wizards' magic, but there's precious little even the most vicious specimen can do against a goblin."
"You're so kind," said Draco tartly.
"Not at all, Mr Malfoy," Griphook replied smoothly. "Now, let me see… Miss Greengrass, it was you who kissed the cheque, I believe?"
Astoria nodded, and held out the bit of parchment. Griphook took it between his long fingers, gave it a cursory inspection, and nodded. "Yes, that's all in order," he said. "We will, of course, be notifying your family that your person and magic are now the property of Gringotts Bank. Just report to the Slaves' Desk on the twenty-third level; they'll decide the precise manner in which you'll work out your bond."
Astoria nodded again; she was clearly trying to put on a brave face, but there were still the faintest hints of tears in her eyes as she turned to Draco. "Take care of Daphne for me, will you, Draco?" she said. "You know what kind of trouble she's liable to get into at school, without her big sister to watch over her…"
"She'll be safe," said Draco. "Wizard's honour."
Astoria smiled, and gave him a grateful kiss on the cheek; then Griphook took her by the hand, and she followed him through the silver doors and out of Draco's life forever.
"When they got to the middle they got ready to dance. 'Harry, take my waste[,]' she said." – jacquisup, "Put Two Twins Together, Book 4"
Harry started. "Say what?"
"Come on, take it," said Parvati, holding out a full chamber pot impatiently. "Don't you know how the Laxative Ball works? The boy takes the girl's excrement and rubs it vigorously into his hair, and then…"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" said Harry. "Nothing doing, Parvati! What kind of sick idea is that, anyway?" He turned to his best friend appealingly. "Ron, do you hear what this crazy date of mine wants me to…"
Then his voice trailed off as he caught a glance – and a whiff – of the top of Ron's head, and his face turned a rich shade of green. "I'm going to throw up," he murmured.
"Well, I should hope so," said Parvati. "Why do you think I didn't wear blush?"
*Incidentally, "1976" may not have been what the author meant to write here; the summary definitely identifies it as Lily and Snape's sixth year, but the story predates DH's definite establishment of that date, and the fact that "197" occurs twice in the chapter suggests a recurrent technical glitch, such as might happen if one wrote "1977" and the formatting software took some odd dislike to doubled digits. But, as all this is conjecture, I'm sticking with the canon date.
†Again, Sorting-Head tip to AlienKing321 for finding this passage.
