Great Collaboration of Doom 2
Chapter Two: In Which Neville is Confused
Up in Gryffindor Tower, Neville Longbottom was feeling mightily confused. He had been feeling ill all day and had skipped dinner to try and get some sleep; he didn’t particularly like the Hospital Wing, and so he wanted to avoid it at all costs.
Admittedly, Neville had a tendency to be confused at the best of times, but when he found that everyone in the tower was asleep (as far as he was aware – he couldn’t exactly check the girls dormitories) he was rather perplexed. In the common room, people were just slumped in their chairs, fast asleep. Despite his best efforts, Neville couldn’t even wake Harry, who was hardly a deep sleeper.
He prodded Harry’s arm with his wand. He even tried squirting water at Harry’s face, but to no avail. Curiouser and curiouser.
Neville was about to walk away, when a thought suddenly struck his mind. Harry was… asleep. Defenceless. Hmm…
Meanwhile, Dumbledore was in his office, looking for a space on his shelves. Finding one, he placed the object he had ‘confiscated’ from Snape on it, between a crystal ball and, well, something else entirely.
Heh. And Harry thought they were all important magical pieces of apparatus. Foolish boy.
Back in the dormitory Neville had suddenly had a flash of inspiration. If he was unable to wake anyone, maybe something had happened to them; after all, he had stayed in bed for the whole of the previous day, so did not know anything that had happened in the castle. Come to think of it, they had all come up to bed rather early, complaining about how tired they were.
Neville crept out of bed and across to Harry’s trunk. He rummaged around in it until he found what he was looking for – the Pocket Sneakoscope Harry kept rolled up in a pair of nasty, mustard coloured socks. It instantly began to spin and whirr on his outstretched hand. So something was amiss. What was it? He should go and see a teacher, but which one?
Professor McGonnagall? No, she was too strict.
Professor Sprout? She wasn’t his Head of House.
Professor Sn… Don’t be stupid!
There was only really one choice. If nobody could be woken, it must be serious. Which meant that Neville must go and see Professor Dumbledore. He put on his dressing gown and fluffy-toed slippers and made his way to the stone gargoyle, wondering what he would say to the Headmaster.
First things first, though, he had to try and get up to the Headmaster’s office, which was rather difficult as he didn’t know the password. The stone gargoyle eyeballed him. “Well, sonny?” it asked. “Are you going to say anything or just stand there all day?”
“I… uh…” Neville was lost for words. “Liquorice wand?” he hazarded as a guess.
The gargoyle looked grim. “How in the name of Merlin’s silk underwear did you guess that first time?” He stepped aside, giving Neville access to the moving staircase.
Feeling rather pleased with himself, Neville started up the stairs, although not before nearly tripping over the belt of his dressing gown, which had come undone.
Dumbledore’s interest in passwording his office with phallic sweets aside, Neville thought that the decor was quite tasteful. After all, there was nothing wrong with paintings that flashed a bit of leg (and a bit more) every now and then.
And the dim red lighting on the stairs, illuminating the house elf on the stripper pole.
When Neville entered the office, Dumbledore was doing something rather odd to a chicken. He put it aside hastily when he heard the fluffy slippers on the carpet.
“Satanic rituals,” he explained hurriedly. “In these times we need all the help we can get.”
“Fancy a drink, lad? Sherry? Or how about a lager?”
Neville bit his lip and hovered on the spot.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that, sir?”
Dumbledore glanced at the clock and sighed.
“You’re right, what can I do for you?”
“Everyone’s asleep. What’s happened?”
“Winky poisoned everyone. Well, everyone apart from you, me and Snape. He’s in the dungeons brewing an antidote. I’m sure he’d be glad of your help.”
“I’m not…” muttered Neville quietly. “I’m pants at Potions.”
Dumbledore twinkled at him. Neville looked away, embarrassed, until Dumbledore put his twinkle away again.
“Then I’m sure there’s something herbal you can do for him, lad.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe do him some shampoo. Herbal essences, for that post-organic glow… he’d like that…” He rubbed his chin as he mused on this.
Neville backed away slowly. “Maybe I’ll… just do that…” he managed, leaving the office then running as fast as his legs would carry him. No doubt about it, since being reanimated from the dead, Dumbledore was getting weirder.
During the meanwhilst, Snape was down in his dungeon, surrounded by his familiar squashy things in jars, chains and skeletons. He hummed as he sorted through potions ingredients.
“All things dull and ugly…”
He stopped abruptly when he came across a piece of paper, wedged between two bottles. Unfolding it, he found two different sets of handwriting, apparently in conversation. It read:
So, still think he’s hot?
Absolutely. Just… just look at him.
Nah. Still greasy.
I prefer to think of it as manly oils.
Harry, that’s just wrong, mate.
I can’t help how I feel! I want to hold him and touch him and
Shut up!
Snape glared at the note as if it would bite, and then, very slowly, folded it up and placed it in a pocket.
Something to think about indeed.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Neville had arrived.
The door creaked open.
“So, you’ve finally stopped playing with my-” Snape stopped short at the sight of Neville. “Longbottom! What do you want? Why aren’t you unconscious?”
“I didn’t have dinner last night sir,” he replied in a quavering voice, “and Professor Dumbledore sent me to help you. He said I could help you with herbs or something.”
“Hmm… yes, I have some special ‘herbs’ in the next room you can help me with. Do you smoke, Longbottom?”
“Uh… sometimes, sir.”
“Good, this will be one of those times. Go and get some of the dried, spiky leaves from next door, whilst I prepare some ingredients for this potion.”
As Neville passed into the next room, Snape’s mind was whirring. A student, alone with him… all he had to do was lock the door and start rolling. Who cared about the rest of the school?
Neville came back into the room, hands full of leaves. He showed surprising skill at forming them into a spliff, the dimensions of which had never previously been seen. At Snape’s raised eyebrow, Neville muttered some explanation about Sprout’s ‘extra-curricular activities’.
Snape stirred a few more ingredients into the cauldron. “Right. That’ll take another three hours or more to simmer. Longbottom, let’s play.”
“Uh…play, sir?” Neville’s voice took on a sly tone. “Play what, sir?”
“Snap, of course.”
Neville blinked. Then, he blinked again for good measure. Had Winky slipped something to the teachers, too?
“Erm, sir?” he said a little apprehensively. “I don’t really think that now is the right time to be playing games.” “Don’t be such a wimp, Longbottom. What are you scared of? That Dumbledore will come along and spank you?” He snorted and smirked. “Believe me, it isn’t half as bad as you’d imagine.”
Neville’s eyebrows vanished under his hairline as Snape returned to his desk, bending over to slide out a box from under the table.
“Let’s play Twister.”
A couple of joints later, Neville was ready for anything. “So sir, where do you want me? All hands down, arse in the air?”
“Ooh! I love it when you call me sir!”
“Yes, sir. Go on, spin that board!”
*****
Five minutes later Dumbledore entered. Albus pouted. “I thought that was our game, Severus.” He gave the man a disappointed look, the kind that cut deep.
“I’m terribly sorry, Headmaster. It’s Longbottom’s fault. He intoxicated me and then made me do it.”
Neville frowned, giving Snape a ‘what-the-fuck’ look.
“You’ve lost it. Stoner.”
“So, Severus,” Dumbledore said, coughing quietly as he inhaled the interesting-smelling smoke. “How’s the potion going?”
“Potion?” Snape scratched his head. “Oh, that potion. Um… we were… just… you know, making preparations. There’re certain vital rituals that the potion maker must… uh… perform before making the potion.”
“Oh, really?” Dumbledore waggled his eyebrows. “May I join in?”
“No, you may not. Don’t you want me to get on with the potion?” Snape frowned, folding his arms.
Dumbledore had already kicked off his shoes and was perched on the sofa arm, struggling to get his socks off.
“Nah, the students could do with the extra sleep. Let’s play!”
Neville shook his head in exasperation. “I’m going to go have a bath.”
Snape smiled.
“Longbottom, use my bathroom. You don’t want to be out there on your own with a crazed house elf on the loose. You can just yell if something goes wrong.” Although he found this a little confusing, considering he had always thought Snape hated him, Neville happened to agree and trotted on down to Snape’s bathroom.
*****
“Does that mean it’s just the two of us playing, Severus?”
“No, Professor, I believe that for your own safety and that of the students, you should go back to bed and lock yourself in. We can’t have our headmaster being attacked now, can we?”
“What, after you did on the tower, you mean?”
“I thought we cleared that little misunderstanding up. Now go along and I will fetch you when the potion is ready.”
Obediently, as Snape knew he would, Professor Dumbledore went back to his study, to ask himself why hair grew so frizzy.
*****
Meanwhile, Snape thought he should go and check on Longbottom’s safety and progress in the bath. Neville sank back into the warm water feeling very confused. He scrubbed hard at every bit of skin he could reach and rubbed his bottom which felt very tender indeed. It suddenly came to him that perhaps Snape had been horrible to him all these years because he harboured a secret crush.
Well, Neville wasn’t really that way inclined and, in any case, usually fancied red-heads. Making a quick decision he jumped out of the bath and promptly fell over on the slippery floor.
Now Snape and Dumbledore were the only humans in the castle left awake.
Tags: great collaboration of doom
Categories:
Collaborative Fanfic