“Let’s Floo Crookshanks!”
Late Saturday afternoon “ three days after what many students were referring to as the ‘The Night Snape Came Out The Fairy Closet" “ Harry was to be found hoisted upon the shoulders of his fellow Gryffindor team mates.
Chants of "Potter! Potter! Potter!" rang out in the Quidditch stadium; the roar of the crowd echoing in Harry’s ears as he was carried across the pitch. He spotted Ron in the crowd, and the two shared a momentary grin. With that, Harry dramatically tossed the Snitch into the air to renewed cheers. The fluttering golden ball twirled in the air a few times, then promptly rammed itself up Neville’s left nostril. The air was filled with excitement at the prospect of another all-night Gryffindor party.
For reasons Harry assumed were purely congratulatory, he received excessive slaps on the back and even his rear as he was hauled all the way up to Gryffindor Tower. He was just wondering how red and painful his body would be by the end of the night if this kept up when he was abruptly thrown through the portrait hole to shouts of "Pigtails!" which was, incidentally, the password and not the first signs of student madness.
The Gryffindors filtered into the common room after Harry as he made his way up to the dormitory to change into something more comfortable. Wincing from the pain of his rather battered body, he took off his muddy clothes. Realisation dawned upon him as he peeled a sign off the back of his Quidditch robes which read "Spank me if you think I’m sexy ". Something told him the Weasley twins had something to do with this…
Chuckling to himself, he walked over to the other side of the room and pinned the sign onto Ron’s school bag, then proceeded to change into a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt before heading back down into the common room.
Even though Harry had barely been gone five minutes, the party had already begun as though he’d been dawdling upstairs for an hour. Streamers littered the floor; large banners of the Gryffindor Quidditch team had been hung up on the walls; food had been set up on tables all around the room, and a large bowl of pink-coloured punch sat on a lone table, surrounded by plastic cups.
Students stood chatting animatedly in groups, all clutching plates piled high with food or cups full of punch. The pictures of the Quidditch team on the banners were waving and smiling at the people below. Harry grimaced when he saw that his picture-self was squinting as though looking in a mirror and examining a spot on his chin. He sighed and made a mental note to get Ron to help him take the banners down later.
Just then, Fred and George came striding towards him.
"All right there, Harry?" they chorused, standing on either side of him and each resting an arm on one of his shoulders.
"Help yourself to food and drink, mate," said George, winking at Fred.
"Yeah," said Fred, grinning broadly. "Plenty of drink."
Harry raised an eyebrow at them both.
"We spiked the punch," George explained matter-of-factly. The three of them watched on as Ron wandered over to the punch table and downed two cups of the pink liquid.
"Looks like this is going to be an interesting night," Harry chuckled.
"And so - it begins!" said Fred, theatrically rubbing his hands together and heading straight for a plate of sausages.
An hour later, a few of the students had made their way to the couches, still talking excitedly about the match. Fred and George stood in a corner, surrounded by a large group of people who were watching them show off their latest inventions. Most people were dotted around the room holding half-full cups of punch.
Most people… except Ron, whose lips and tongue were bright pink and Harry could hear him telling anyone who’d listen that he was, in fact, Superman’s cousin twice-removed. He was already on his seventh round of punch.
Needless to say, Hermione wasn’t very impressed. Despite stating numerous times that Ron could "do what he liked for all she cared”, Harry saw her frequently glance at the swaying red-head, and frown as Ron flopped his head on Lavender Brown’s shoulder.
Lavender ignored him, however, and continued gossiping with Parvati.
"Did you hear about Snape’s discovery?" Lavender said in a whisper loud enough for Harry to hear from where he sat with Hermione.
"About the marigolds leaving yellow stains on your hands after wearing them for too long?" said Parvati, sipping her punch and eyeing Ron distastefully. Ron’s head had slipped off Lavender’s shoulder and he’d begun crawling back to where Harry and Hermione sat, mumbling something about toads.
"No, no, no!" Lavender shook her head, spilling drink all down her front. "Apparently, phoenix poo has healing powers!"
"No!" Parvati gasped.
"Yes!"
"No!"
"YES!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Actually, it’s true," she said haughtily. "It works as a brilliant shampoo, apparently."
"How did he find that out, though?" Parvati asked, a baffled look on her face. "Do they regularly test animal waste on hair or something?" She pulled a face.
"Well, you heard what happened. Maybe Snape just rubbed it in a little…" Hermione winced as though trying not to think about it.
"See, I told you his hair looked shinier than usual, Lavender,"
"Yeah, we really should get hold of some!" Lavender replied excitedly. "It really has given his hair much more volume…"
Harry turned away from the conversation at this point, not really liking the images he had in his head of Snape prancing about with an afro haircut.
He was grateful when a loud hissing sound omitted his thoughts. Ron had somehow managed to crawl onto the sofa in between Harry and Hermione, accidentally sitting on Crookshanks’ tail on his way there.
"Be careful, Ron!" Hermione scolded.
Ron ignored Hermione and turned his back on her, frowning.
"What’s the matter, Ron?" Harry asked, gulping down more punch.
"D’you reckon she would notice if we threw that damn cat in the fire?" he slurred, jerking his head in Crookshanks’ direction, who was looking rather disgruntled and stalking up the stairs towards the dormitories.
"I heard that, Ron!" Hermione said crossly from the other side of him.
"Oi, Harry!" a voice called from across the room.
Harry looked up to see Fred walking towards him. "I don’t suppose you’ve got any spare Filibuster Fireworks stashed upstairs, have you, mate?" said the twin, looking rather pleased with himself. "We’ve just sold all ours to that lot." He jerked his head towards the gathering crowd, now cheering as George demonstrated a sweet that turned his entire face bright blue.
"Er “ maybe," said Harry slowly, trying to remember whether he and Ron had really used their last lot to singe off all the hair on Malfoy’s head, or whether he’d just dreamt it. "I’ll go and have a look."
He stood up unsteadily and made his way up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory. He stood in the doorway looking around the room for any inspiration as to where they might have put the fireworks, if they indeed had any. He spotted a familiar-looking "Spank me if you think I’m sexy" note taped onto Seamus’ neatly folded school robes and chuckled. "This note certainly is doing the rounds tonight," he said to himself, figuring that Ron must’ve spotted it on his school bag earlier.
Spotting a bag under his own bed that had "Zonko’s" printed on it in large, comical letters, he fished through it, grabbed a handful of unused Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks, and headed back downstairs to the common room.
Three hours into the party “ the night still young “ empty plastic cups and burnt-out fireworks were strewn all over the common room floor. It was evident that a fair amount of students had been indulging in the punch, as Harry noticed that a large group of people had formed a staggered circle and were playing some twisted form of Truth or Dare.
Dean Thomas was crouched in front of one of the tables and seemed to be eating the tablecloth.
"Oh come on, more than that!" Seamus called out, who was wearing a pair of rather large, frilly pink knickers on his head.
Shaking his head in mild bewilderment, Harry made his way past the circle and sat down next to Ron, who was half-lying down on the couch with his head propped up on one arm. He seemed to be watching the game of Truth or Dare, yet his eyes seemed rather unfocused.
"How much punch have you really had, Ron?" Hermione asked, frowning at him from an armchair beside the fire.
"Er…" Ron held a hand up in front of his face and began counting his fingers very slowly. "Probably about… er…"
Hermione sighed. She stroked Crookshanks idly, who was now curled up on her lap and purring contentedly.
"Dunno," Ron said eventually.
Harry snorted loudly. He was beginning to lose count of his own drinks as well.
He nudged Ron and handed him another cup of punch. Ron grinned stupidly, and held his punch up to Hermione as though making a toast. "See, Hermy," he slurred loudly, "Harry doesn’t think I’ve had too much!"
He burped and then took three large gulps of the punch, almost downing the entire cup. Hermione frowned.
"Honestly, you’re both as bad as each other!" she said, standing up suddenly, causing Crookshanks to slide off her lap. The cat hissed at Harry and Ron, then settled in front of the blazing fire. "And I think you’ve had quite enough of that!"
She had snatched the cup out of Ron’s hand, but Ron had barely noticed. He was frowning at Crookshanks.
"What are you doing, Ron?" Hermione snapped irritably.
"S’lookin’ at me," he grunted, looking suspiciously at Crookshanks as though the cat were about to attack him any moment. "Look at ‘is eyes, Harry… definably… definabibly… definitely plotting to kill us."
Harry peered at Crookshanks. He did look rather evil…
"Oh, Ron, don’t be ridiculous." Hermione said. "He’s just a cat, for crying out loud! He’s probably wondering where half your brain cells have disappeared to."
Ron opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it again.
Eager to not be stuck in the middle of another argument, Harry stood up much too quickly and had to steady himself for a moment.
He observed his surroundings, trying to avert his eyes from the game of Truth or Dare, whereby Lavender Brown was fervently kissing the portrait of Roger the Revolting to many cries of disgust. A girl, whose face Harry couldn’t see, was prodding Parvati Patil, who was bent over the punch bowl trying to eat the bits of food that had found its way in there. Harry laughed openly when he noticed that the infamous "Spank me if you think I’m sexy" sign had somehow found its way onto the back of Parvati’s skirt.
He suddenly spotted Neville across the room, who was running around randomly grabbing hold of people, screaming in their faces, and then dashing off to the next person.
"You alright there, Neville?" Harry said, approaching him and realising that he’d had more punch than he first thought. Neville’s nose looked about four times its usual size, and Harry had to squint to make sure he was seeing straight “ his vision was becoming rather blurry.
When he looked closer, he saw that Neville’s nose was indeed much bigger than usual, and swore he thought he could see a golden glimmer from inside one of his nostrils. Harry suddenly remembered the Snitch from the game earlier that day. Evidently, Neville had been unable to remove it.
"Harry!" Neville yelped. "The Snitch! I-It’s stuck up my nose! And no one will help me!”
Harry instantly found his shoes very interesting indeed, so he stared intently at them. He strongly hoped that Neville wasn’t going to ask him to remove the Snitch with his own fingers.
"Er “ yeah," he said awkwardly, taking a large gulp of punch. "Everyone’s “ er “ a bit busy, I think."
"Help me, please!" Neville cried desperately. “Argh!! It’s moving!”
Neville’s nose twitched, and Neville ran screaming around the room, waving his arms around madly.
“It’s going to kill me!”
"Don’t be silly!" Harry called after him, ignoring the fact that having a Snitch up your nose in the first place was rather silly in itself. Harry’s voice fell on deaf ears, though. Neville had just run straight into the back of the Fat Lady’s portrait, and now lay motionless on the floor. "Oops."
A moment later, Neville’s nose twitched again and out popped the tiny Snitch. It hovered for a moment, then zoomed past Harry’s face and out one of the windows.
Harry stood stunned for a moment, unsure of what to do or think. Eventually, he made his way back over to Ron, who had stormed away from Hermione in a huff and begun drowning his frustration in the punch bowl.
Hours later, most students had made their way up to their dormitories. Others were draping themselves over each other on the couches and armchairs, or had passed out in heaps on the floor. The food and drink from earlier lay forgotten. Hermione had long since gone off to bed, leaving Crookshanks sleeping in one of the armchairs.
The game of Truth or Dare had eventually fizzled out, and now the only people moving around at all were Seamus and Dean, who were sitting in front of the fire, throwing random things into it. Harry and Ron lay entwined on the floor watching the other two boys, occasionally cheering half-heartedly if they burned something particularly interesting. So far, in Harry’s opinion, Dean’s underwear had produced the most interesting display.
"Wassat up there?" Ron grunted suddenly, pointing to something on the mantelpiece above the fireplace.
"Ungh…" Harry sat up groggily, his head still buzzing a little from earlier.
Dean got unsteadily to his feet and peered at what looked like a grey container.
"Hey, it looks like floo powder!" exclaimed Seamus from behind him, who had also stood up. He picked up the container and took it over to where Harry and Ron sat. Ron took it from him and placed it carefully on the palm of his hand. The four boys huddled together, examining the pot.
"Yep, definitely floo powder," Ron confirmed, suddenly sounding more sober than he had done all night. He licked his lips hungrily. "Fred and George would have a field day! Think of the possibilities!"
Harry was still trying to make sense of things. He still felt dizzy.
"Let’s test it out, then" he said, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
"Okay, but - er “ what with?" asked Dean. All four boys began scanning the room for ideas.
"How about this?" said Seamus, tugging at a cushion on one of the sofas. A low grunt issued from somewhere beneath, presumably they’d been using the cushion as a head-rest. Seamus shrugged and pulled the cushion free, then tossed it to Dean.
"It’ll do," said Ron.
The four stood up and congregated awkwardly around the fireplace. They looked at each other expectantly.
"Go on then," said Harry finally, giving Ron a nudge.
"Right," said the red-head, looking as though he’d suddenly realised he wasn’t quite sure what to do. "Okay “ er “ Dean. You throw the cushion, and I’ll throw the floo powder."
"Right," said Dean, looking rather anxious all of a sudden.
"Where are we sending it to?" Harry asked, realising that he had no idea what places were actually connected to the floo network at this time of night.
Silence.
"I dunno," said Ron shortly. "How about… the Hufflepuff common room?"
"Do they even have a fireplace?" Harry asked, trying to remember if he’d ever been there before.
"Dunno," said Seamus, shrugging. "Might as well find out."
"Okay. Harry, you call that out as we toss these bits in, then," said Ron.
Harry nodded. "On three?"
The others nodded.
"One… two… three!"
With that, Dean threw the cushion, and Ron a handful of floo powder into the fire.
"Hufflepuff common room!" said Harry clearly, hoping it hadn’t woken anyone up.
The fire blazed bright green for a moment, and then back to it’s normal colour, the flames dancing low.
Everyone was still.
"Is it… gone?" said Seamus eventually.
The four leaned forwards in unison.
"I don’t… see anything," said Harry, squinting into the flames.
"Me neither," said Dean, taking a step back.
"Looks like we did it, then!" Ron exclaimed gleefully.
"Brilliant!" Seamus and Dean cheered.
"Okay, well, now what?" asked Harry, looking around the room again for ideas.
All four boys were silent for a while, each deep in thought.
"I’ve got it!" said Ron suddenly. He turned to Harry, his eyes glinting manically. "Let’s floo Crookshanks."
Harry, Dean and Seamus burst out laughing, but Harry stopped laughing abruptly when he looked more closely at Ron’s face. He was serious.
"What?!" Harry squeaked. "Hermione would kill us!"
"She’d never know it was us," Ron said, his eyes pleading. "Oh, come on Harry. It’ll be a dream come true!"
"Yeah, come on, Harry!" Seamus gave him a playful nudge.
Harry looked down at Crookshanks. The cat had lifted its head up at the sound of his name and was eyeing them suspiciously, as though he knew what they were talking about.
He was rather ugly, Harry thought. And moody. And he really did seem to have something against Ron…
Ron seemed to read his mind. "Remember that time he ate my potions homework and all my spare parchment and my quill, Harry?"
Harry swore he saw Crookshanks smile at this. Harry frowned.
"Don’t you think it at least deserves “"
"Let’s do it," said Harry suddenly, and quickly scooped up the miserable creature from the armchair. He dashed back to join the others in front of the fire and held Crookshanks at arm’s length. The cat was flailing wildly, scratching Harry’s arms to ribbons. "Quick!" he yelped.
This seemed to jolt the others into action. Ron hastily grabbed a handful of floo powder and prepared to throw it into the fire.
"Wait!" Seamus cried suddenly.
"What?!" Harry was looking at him incredulously. Crookshanks was thrashing his limbs even more wildly and Harry struggled to keep hold of the animal.
"The final touch," said Seamus, grinning. He quickly ran over to where Parvati was sprawled out on the floor, and ripped a piece of parchment from the back of her skirt. Dodging the other few students who were scattered about the room, he made his way back to the others and taped the note onto Crookshanks’ tail.
Without even attempting to read what note Seamus had attached, Harry yelled "GO!" and with that, the handful of floo powder and the thrashing cat were hurled into the flames.
"Meeeeeeeooooowwwwww!"
Crookshanks wailed and hissed as he flew through the air into the fire, his eyes glaring with a look that said "you’ll never get away with this."
The fire once again turned momentarily green, and then changed back to normal. Everything was silent except for a faint howling sound coming from the direction Crookshanks had just disappeared from.
"Blimey!" said Ron after a while, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I’ve always wanted to do that."
At that, all four boys burst into hysterics, clutching their stomachs and then collapsing on the floor from laughing so hard.
"Oh “ my “ goodness!" Seamus gasped. "Did you see “ the way it “ oh my goodness!"
Eventually, the boys’ laughter had died down.
"You do realise Hermione is going to skin us alive when she finds out, don’t you?" said Harry, still grinning.
"Oh, come on Harry, she’ll never know it was us!" chortled Ron. "Some Hufflepuff will bring the wretched thing back tomorrow or something."
"Uhhh… Ron…" said Dean slowly, the smile fading from his face. "I think we “ uhh “ did we ever say where we were flooing it to?"
Realisation slowly sunk in.
"Oh, Merlin…" said Ron quietly. "Where the hell did it go?"
Dumbledore was seated at his desk, rearranging the various objects and contraptions that lay scattered on the polished surface. Snape stood behind him, trying to explain that the reason why Gryffindor were was currently at minus five-hundred points was because the Weasley twins had caused a very large and dangerous explosion in potions the day before, and not because they had called him a "greasy trout-sniffer".
"Severus, I understand that your actions must have felt appropriate “ but I do feel that deducting two thousand points for a simple mistake may have been a little… how to put this… unnecessary?"
Snape pursed his lips and opened his mouth to defend himself, when a faint yowling sound coming from the fireplace behind the two Professors rapidly began growing louder by the millisecond.
As both men turned around slowly to face the fire, the flames suddenly flashed bright green, and before either of them could jump out of the way, a large, round, furry mass came soaring out of the fireplace, landing directly on top of Snape’s head.
Crookshanks, his claws out and digging fiercely into Snape’s scalp, clung onto the Professor’s head for dear life. His feline back arched; fur sticking out in all directions; frankly, it looked like a deranged hissing puffer fish.
"Hmm…" said Dumbledore with an amused smile on his face. "I wonder where this little creature came from."
Having gotten over the shock of, well, having a cat on his head, Snape looked absolutely livid. His teeth and fists were clenched so tightly that Dumbledore wondered for a moment whether the man in front of him was about to spontaneously combust.
"GET “ IT “ OFF “ ME!" he snapped in a rather high-pitched voice, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.
Dumbledore, still smiling, took a step towards the bizarre pair, only to have Crookshanks dig his claws even deeper into the top of Snape’s head and hiss maliciously. The poor animal looked absolutely petrified, and Dumbledore wasn’t surprised “ it had just endured a relatively traumatic journey through fire, and then landed on what it probably sees to be a rather knobbly mountain. Seeing a note taped to the cat’s tail, which read, "Spank me if you think I’m sexy", confirmed to Dumbledore that this cat had indeed been manhandled by students.
"NOW, DUMBLEDORE! REMOVE IT NOW!"
At that moment, Crookshanks’ terror had evidently reached its peak. The cat tensed up, and, a moment later Dumbledore heard a soft trickling noise echo faintly in the otherwise silent room. He watched as Snape’s hair dampened considerably, and as Crookshanks’ deposit continued downwards, seeping through Snape’s robes and dripping into his shoes.
Snape’s clenched jaw and fists relaxed; his body slumped, defeated.
"This is not my week," he sulked.
Stay tuned for more late-night antics, including false teeth, the Return of the Note, eyeballs, a boring Potions class, and Draco's tolerence and sanity dwindling away into nothingness.
A/N: A big big thank you goes to Krissy for being a wonderful beta-reader, and even more wonderful friend. Thanks also to Aamba for your very useful comments and suggestions «huggles you both». Ah, yes, I hereby dedicate phoenix poo healing powers to dear Kayla and Audrey *grin*