Minerva McGonagall's brain was full to bursting with apprehension and the fear of hard conceits to come. The end of the year was scheduled to arrive that very night and Slytherin had just shattered Grfyindors House Cup winning streak; her first defeat as a head of house in many years.
Now that the Slytherin student council were Hogwarts incipient masters many devastating changes were bound to thrust barbarously into her life; the coming year suddenly held numerous terrors for her. She did her best to keep her worries firmly sealed away in a far corner of her subconcious but they constantly bubbled forth and short circuited her mind at, it seemed, the absolute worst times. She wondered if she had maybe been cursed, and shakily tried to laugh the absurd suspicion away, but it became stuck to her like glue on tape.
Just earlier that day she had been chatting with Hagrid in the teachers lounge when Snape, Draco and Pansy Parkinson had waltzed in, already acting like they ruled the roost. '11 hours till that yet,' Minerva said to herself. She had a grim internal countdown of the brief time left until Slytherin became the lead house and kept hawkish watch of it with her third eye... But the Slytherins cared not for her mental gymnastics and made their disdain for her clear. Upon entering the lounge Pansy had unceremoniously shoved Minerva out of the comfy little armchair she'd been occupying and in her tumultous fall Minerva's herbal tea arced out of her cup, nearly blinding poor Hagrid. She rose, furious, to chastise the young upstart and... faltered. Glowering up at her domineeringly the raven haired witch completely unmanned Professor McGonagall.
"S-sorry Pansy..." Minerva crowed weakly, astounded by her own words even as they emerged from her quivering lips. She had meant to say; 'Why you impertinant child! This seat is not a part of your domain for half a day yet'...so then why hadn't she, she wondered. It was almost as though Pansy had excuded a feral, savage, unseen, dominance. Whatever it was, the baleful influence of the suddenly dauntless Slytherin girl curdled Minerva's reprimands before they were issued. Minerva's knees buckled and of course neither Snape nor Malfoy failed to notice. They too locked eyes with her haughtily and Minerva felt herself diminish further.
Filled with shame she had retreated from the room and into the corridor. The teacher's lounge was no longer an oasis in a desert of stress for her and she felt overwhelmed; homeless and lost. When she was certain that she was alone she slumped slowly to the ground and cried silent tears of anger and self reproach. The more she thought about that rude little girl the more the instult drove the wrong side up her road. It was all just so unfair.
Every year upon Gryfindors victory she had stringently monitered the interim school leaders and ensured that their edicts and mandates were in the best interest of all students and faculty. Under her ken Hogwarts had seen the return of the Yearly Solstice Dance, bi-monthly Casual Thursdays (referred to in good humor as Casual Every-Other-Thursdays) as well as the installation of a modest yet well appreciated pizzaria where weary students could unwind after a trying day of magical studies. All of that was likely to fade like dust in the wind when the Slytherins claimed their year long rights. And what foul replacements the Slytherins and their dour leader were concoting she dared not imagine.
As Minerva sank into despondancy Albus Dumbledore was rustling around his office in a frenzy, desperately searching for a vial of much needed potion. He reached his long skinny arms into nooks and crannies everywhere, places where any ordinary man could never hope to grasp. They didn't call him Albus Pipe Cleaner for nothing, though for all his lenghty and slender prowress he came up empty handed time after time. His distress rose like mercury in a thermometer plunged into the blazing core of the earth, he feared he would soon drown in his own anxiety. He had to find that potion!
In his distracted state he didn't notice that he was being observed until Severus Snape uncoiled from the obscure umbra of the farthest corner of Dumbledore's office. "Looking for something old friend?" Snape's voice was a silky insinuation of scorn and hidden puissance. Dumbledore jumped back, placing himself near flat against his towering bookshelf. Several large leather bound tomes on the top shelf tettered ominously above him but went unnoticed. Snape approached Dumbledore slowly, his lank hair greasy as ever, as though it had been dipped in a deep fryer, it reflected the skittering shine of the headmaster's many flickering candles. A fell light glinted in Snape's slitted eyes.
"Severus!" Dumbledore gasped, 'and just how has that slinky potions master effected ingress?'... All of Dumbledore's charms and wards were still in place... or so he thought.
"What in the name of Hogwarts are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be preparing your pupils for their upcoming managerial roles? Winning the house cup and running the school for the year is an enormous responsibility, not something to blunder into blindly unequipped!" Albus tried to make his voice stern and commanding but a thin crack of bewilderment bled through. He refused to lose face though and drew himself up to his full height threateningly. He reminded himself that regardless who won the House Cup he still at least wrote the checks.
Snape laughed, shocking Dumbledore further and deflating him noticeably. The sallow fellow barely ever smiled and this gust of merriment was an unnerving thing indeed. Snape twirled one long bone white finger through his saponaceous black locks and approached with truculent relish. Before Dumbledore had another chance to flap his wrinkly mouth Snape plucked a small vial from his robes, in it was a sparkling clear liquid which Dumbledore immediately gaped at with overt longing, even need.
"I know, Dumbledore," the potions master announced, "I know your foul little secret..."
Dumbledore spasmed with incredulous rage. "What brazen manner of scheme are you trying to pull Severus?!" Dumbledore demanded, slamming his fist down on his oak table. A long crack traced its way from his fist's point of impact to the far end of the polished table top as if to point a damning finger at Severus Snape. But Snape was unaffected. He tossed the phial carelessly to Dumbledore, watching the elder wizards desperate grappling for the precious liquid with saucy disdain.
"I propose to do nothing... for now... But know this!" Now it was Snape's turn to draw himself up and he did so with a wily smirk of evil self confidence. "If you meddle in the reformations and new school rules my Slytherins plan to inact then your precious syrum will wind up at the bottom of some well and then everyone will know of your odious secret!"
Dumbledore sputtered and before he could formulate a response Snape whisked out of the room as swiftly and mysteriously as he had entered it. Albus was left alone to craddle the inestimable concotion and lick his wounds. What foul plans were the Slytherins planning to enact?
Meanwhile, across the school, Harry Potter careened through the halls to the safety of his dormitory in a paroxysm of purest terror. The ghost of Parvati Patil had demanded an impossible deed of him and then snatched a shrieking and terrified Luna Lovegood into the air.
"Do this deed for me 'boy who lived' and you will see Luna alive and well as soon as proof is brought to me... Fail..." The ghost drew an effervescent finger across her own pale throat. The two had disapeared with a loud crack. For some time Harry had nearly stood, knees buckling, staring at the spot where Luna had so recently been.
As he ran an emotion other than fear fought for his attentions, an overwhelming sorrow. He had finally seemed to have found a girl to love and no sooner than the two realized their mutual affection she had been snatched away by some ghastly inversion of fate. Tears streamed from his face, leaving a saline trail behind him all the way to the Gryffindor tower.
Just outside, panting and facing the smug house portrait, Harry faltered. What was he to do? He couldn't simply walk into the girls bedrooms and behead Hermione Lion Heart... could he?
He tried to imagine the scenario and all the various ways it could play out but there were just too many variables. Without the still dripping head of the Time Child he would never be able to see Luna again, and yet how was he to proceed. He pondered stealth, subversion, a feigned terrorist attact, yet none seemed viable.
He knuckled his forehead trying desperately to focus. He simply had too much on his plate, what with the upcoming, oddly scheduled, night time full moon final quiditch match of the year against Slytherin that very night. He, Ron, and Ginny had approached McGonagall about rescheduling the championship bout to the standard daylight hours but their normally stalwart head of house had been cagey and restless, though firm about Slytherins right to discombobulate school rules and traditions as they saw fit, being the new House Cup Champions.
Ginny had pointed out that the Gryfindors were still technically the Lead House of Hogwarts, at least until midnight that night, but McGonagall had hissed and slapped Ginny across her freckled face with all her might. Ron and Harry stood agape while Ginny, struggling in her extreme state of shock and confusion, had shakily risen once more to her feet, spitting out a blood smeared tooth in the process.
"Forget everything you know about Hogwarts," McGonagall had instructed them, her voice a low husky rasp. "This is the year of the snake and nothing will ever be the same."
Harry hesitated before the portrait, replaying the bewildering events of that confounding day over and over in his head. He was shocked out of his reverie by a gaggle of Gryfindor first year girls who were wheeling the still woefully paralyzed Kraug back to the commons. Kraug indicated through a pre-established code of blinks that the girls should head in without her, and that she needed to speak with Harry Heartbreaker. Before the last girl left her side she crossed Kraug's arms for her so that the paralyzed former goddess could admonish Harry as though she were not differently abled.
"Harry and Kraug need to talk." She said.
Harry licked his lips and swallowed, a desperate ploy suddenly coming to mind.
"Yes." He said, "and not just the two of us, I'd like to apologize to the rest of the Golden Trio as well..."