Great Collaboration of Doom 1
Chapter One: In Which Hogwarts is Far Too Quiet
Hogwarts was quiet. For nearly a thousand years, the castle had been home to generation upon generation of students. This meant that there was usually someone or another sneaking around after midnight; illicit trysts in the Astronomy Tower or snogging down in the dungeons. Tonight, though, something was different.
Even the caretaker, Argus Filch, was surprised by the lack of pesky students, and had retired early to bed with a mug of hot cocoa and his favourite, well-thumbed copy of Pride and Prejudice.
Just because the students weren’t roaming the halls, though, didn’t mean that they weren’t up to something.
So where was everybody?
In the kitchens, Winky was sat in a corner on a stool, with her usual bottle of butterbeer fixed in her mouth. Dobby rolled his eyes and tried to get her to stand up. She had an insane look on her face, a grin that was borderline psychotic.
“Winky… what has you done?” asked Dobby, not sure he wanted to hear the answer. When she didn’t reply, he started shaking her, earning himself some odd looks from fellow house elves who were working on the breakfast.
“Noooooooooooothing.” She smiled, batting her eyelashes most falsely. “Just…” and she tipped her empty bottle upside down, mimicking pouring something out. Then, she collapsed onto the floor in a fit of mischievous giggles.
Dobby got on the floor next to her, peering into her face. “Dumbledore is not going to like this… what have you done Winky?”
Unable to speak, overcome by uncontrollable laughter, she pointed at a crate that was just opposite one of the main ovens. Dobby rushed over and peered inside at the many vials within.
“Highly concentrated Sleeping Potion.”
Picking one up, he examined it closely and groaned as he saw the words “Warning: Dilute before use. Extremely toxic if taken raw.”
Winky had poisoned the entire student body.
Dobby rushed out of the Kitchens as fast as he could. What was he going to do? Where exactly had the potion been put? When? How much? Winky had poisoned the students, but were the teachers okay?
He had to go and check.
*****
Professor Dumbledore was standing at the sink washing his beard, as was his early morning custom. He looked round at the knock on the door and smiled as Dobby entered the room.
“Ah, Dobby. Good morning to you. How can I help?”
“Dobby has something very important to tell Professor Dumbledore, sir. There is a very great problem with Winky, sir. She has poisoned all the students with undiluted extra-strong Sleeping Potion. Dobby does not know where she got it, or how bad everything is going to be. What should Dobby do, Professor Dumbledore, sir?”
“Don’t worry, Dobby, it will all be okay. Come with me.”
And, taking Dobby by the hand, he led the way out of the bathroom.
Dobby was skitso. How could everything be okay? If he had hair, he’d be pulling it out right about now. “We’ll simply have to have to get the heads of house to administer an antidote to each of the students to wake them. Then, I think we should have a day of rest.”
Dumbledore chuckled at his deliberate irony as he walked Dobby down to the dungeons. “Professor Snape ought to be able to help us.”
Rather than knocking on the door, Dumbledore took down the necessary wards and walked right into the office, the classroom and, beyond that, the teacher’s private quarters. A disgruntled Snape stirred and groaned, his eyes half open. They became wide when he realised a house elf was with Dumbledore and he scurried to cover himself with the black silk sheet. He would not let a house elf see him in just his boxer shorts.
“Knocking might’ve been an idea,” he sneered. Dumbledore was unaffected and sat down on one of the leather couches, lighting a fire in the grate with his wand. He invited Dobby to sit next to him. “We have a problem, Severus.”
“So it appears. You’ve not slept with that thing, have you?”
“Ah, no, Severus. I prefer to employ other methods of keeping warm on a cold night; it’s been many years since I have had to take a house elf into my bed.” He steepled his fingers together, looking at the Potions Master seriously. “It seems that one of the house elves has taken it upon themselves to administer a particularly strong dose of Sleeping Potion the all the students.”
Snape, who had arranged his sheet over himself to protect his modesty, curled his lip at this. “I’m not quite sure how that’s a problem, Headmaster. Surely having no students to teach would make our job a lot easier.”
He attempted a smile, but those muscles were not often used and it didn’t quite work, ending up as a grimace rather than a smile.
“Whether that is the case or not, we cannot allow the students to remain like this.”
There were times when Severus wanted to hit his head against a wall. This was one of those times. “Headmaster, am I right in thinking that you expect me to have an antidote in a sufficient quantity to
administer to all the students?”
“That was the plan.”
“Well, I don’t. It’ll take time to brew anything, too.”
“The students aren’t exactly going anywhere, Severus.”
Severus sighed. Why couldn’t he just crawl back into bed? His nice warm bed with his silky black sheets. Mmmm. Going back to bed was apparently not an option, though. “Where shall we start?”
Dumbledore beamed, clapping his hands together. “First things first, I think a nice cup of tea is in order, don’t you?”
“Dobby will go, Headmaster!”
The house elf disappeared with a pop. Dumbledore stroked his beard and peered over his glasses at Snape, who had been edging his way off the bed to reach his clothes.
“I’m glad he’s gone, Severus,” said Dumbledore, discovering a knot in his beard and trying unsuccessfully to pull it out. Maybe he should invest in some hairties to keep it out of his soup or something. He could get beaded ones with tassels (very racy, he mused) and be very groovy.
“Is that so?” Snape managed to keep a bored tone while wishing for some clothing.
“I wanted to discuss something very serious with you.” Dumbledore’s questing fingers found a particularly ensnarled lump of cheese and set about loosening it.
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“What? Oh, of course not.” Dumbledore freed the cheese and nibbled on it curiously.
“Hmm. Gorgonzola. I thought as much.” He looked back across at his Potions Master. “I say, those are rather spiffy sheets, Severus. Much better than the ones you used to have. Mind if I have a feel?”
“Not just there, if you don’t mind, Headmaster!” Snape’s voice leapt a couple of octaves and he shot backwards so fast he hit the headboard (which, naturally, had a rather tasteful design of writhing snakes).
“Very smooth,” said Dumbledore appreciatively. “You must tell me where you bought them. Wouldn’t mind some for my bed. You should see my current sheets; they’re practically see-through.”
Snape coughed, rearranging his covering a little more. “What was the important thing you wanted to discuss?”
“Ah, yes, important thing.” Dumbledore steepled his hands and gazed over the top of them seriously. “I believe Voldemort was involved in this.”
Snape flinched, then rolled his eyes. “Not again. No offence, Headmaster, but you appear to have an unhealthy obsession with the Dark Lord. How on earth would he do such a thing?”
“Dobby appears to think Winky had a hand in it…”
Snape laughed. And then stopped. It felt right but it sounded wrong. He shuddered.
“I fail to see why he’d do such a thing. Or why he’d see it to his advantage to use Winky, of all the house elves. With all due respect, headmaster, you are off your rocker.”
Dumbledore nodded and stood, rocking on his heels, still staring mesmerised at the sheets. “Would you mind if…?”
Snape reached for a towel out of the bedside drawers and wrapped it around his waist as he climbed out of the bed.
“Knock yourself out.”
He disappeared into the bathroom and, as he shut the door, saw Dumbledore pounce into his bed, a look of sheer glee on his old face as he pulled the quilt up to his chin. Barking.
Snape dressed quickly, hearing the rather worrying sounds of bedsprings bouncing in the next room.
Occasionally, there would be a little whoop of excitement. Cursing the number of buttons he wore, Snape eventually gave up and rushed back into his bedroom, robes still half-done, to see Dumbledore diving under his covers.
“Headmaster!” he called. “What exactly was it that you wanted me to do?”
“Save the school, of course, Severus,” said Dumbledore, his voice a little muffled.
“Oh, I see. I’ll just do that little thing then.”
“Jolly good.” The bed sheets moved as Dumbledore wiggled around beneath them. “Merlin’s beard, Severus! What’s this for?”
There were very few things that Severus ever wanted to see in his life. The Dark Lord naked, for example. No-one wanted to see that. Another thing that Snape didn’t want to see was Albus Dumbledore holding a sex toy. It was wrong on many, many levels.
Severus cleared his throat, straightening his robes. “I’m going to go down to the Potions classroom,” he announced, hoping that his voice wasn’t trembling as he tried to change the subject. “Could you perhaps notify Poppy that I require her assistance.” Pomfrey was a dab-hand at potion-making.
“No can do, Severus. Poppy’s on holiday this week. Went off to the south of France with her toyboy.” Albus tapped the side of his nose. “Best keep that bit of information between the two of us, eh?”
Thankfully, Dobby returned at that moment.
“Dobby has your tea, sir.”
“Took your time, didn’t you?” Snape snarled, still trying to adopt his usual, surly manner. He finished buttoning up his robes, then swept past Dobby, taking the tea back into the bathroom with him. “Wait outside whilst I finish getting ready. And, Headmaster,” he said as Dumbledore made to follow Dobby, “if I ever hear a word about this little scene, remember: there are undetectable poisons.”
“Indeed,” said Dumbledore. He pocketed the object still in his hand with what Snape was sure was the slightest hint of a wink, and slid quietly out of the room.
Severus didn’t hear footsteps, so presumed Dumbledore was waiting outside. He wondered if he would get any time in the lake today, how he was longing to relax in the shallow waters. As Snape was thinking about this wonderful thought, something shiny caught his eye on his bed sheets, he moved closer…
Snape felt heat rise up is chest, crawling up his neck and bursting onto his face. It was Hermione Granger’s Head Girl badge. Now, that would’ve been very awkward. He doubted, somehow, that Dumbledore would believe he’d been privately tutoring the girl when she suddenly fainted and urgently needed to lie in his bed.
With a sigh, he pocketed the offending object and left the room, thinking he’d use the need to return it as a reason to escape Albus as soon as possible. Besides which, he could force her into helping him brew this pesky antidote. What had Dumbledore been thinking, hiring house elves to cook…
Tags: great collaboration of doom
Categories:
Collaborative Fanfic