Harry Potter and the Year of Living Stupidly

Chapter Ten

Holy Wars

"I want to come too! I want to come too!"

"Do be quiet, Dumbledore!" Lupin was nursing a splitting headache as it was. He checked his watch and addressed Tonks: "I don't have time to go down to the lavatory now. The Ministry's probably here already."

"Oooh! I want to meet the Ministry! I want to meet the Ministry!"

Tonks took a piece of bubble gum from her mouth and plastered it firmly over Dumbledore's lips. It made an effective gag. "You should have come as soon as I told you about Pettigrew and Lockhart," she reprimanded. "What are you going to do about them?"

"If they're gods, what on earth can I do about them?" demanded Lupin, exasperated. "I don't know any 'god-away' spells."

"Well, maybe they're not gods. Maybe they're just. . . weird." Lupin stared at her until she fidgeted. "Okay, they didn't need spells to make them weird. Maybe they just got weirder."

"Do you think they just got weirder?" Lupin asked patiently.

"Well. . . no. I mean, yes, they're weirder, but there's more to it than that."

"Well, then -- "

"I drew a duck!" cried Gareth Colby, flourishing his tablet triumphantly.

Lupin brushed hair out his eyes and sighed. He'd unwittingly created a monster. When he'd come back into his office after Tonk's report, he'd found Colby rummaging through his desk for more ballpoint pens. The discovery that they came in many colors had nearly sent the little reporter into ecstasy.

Lupin had tried to take one away so he could write a note to stick to his door, but Colby had bitten him on the same hand the Monster Book of Monsters had mauled Tuesday and he'd given it up.

"It's a very nice duck," Tonks assured the beaming reporter. Then she looked at Lupin. "If you're not going to come down, what am I going to tell Professor Snape? He won't stay there much longer."

Lupin pondered. "All we need do for now is keep people away from that lavatory, so let's take Flitwick into our confidence. Tell him to put a charm on the door -- "

"It's too late for that," interrupted Sirius, appearing out of nowhere. "Draco caught a glimpse, and now at least half the school is packed into that corridor down there, just waiting to see what we're hiding from them. It's mad. They're about ready to eat Snape and Lucius."

Lupin shrugged. "No downside there." Tonks cuffed him on the shoulder. "Ow!"

"Try to be serious," she chided him. "You're the headmaster. And don't make any Sirius/serious puns," she added, as he opened his mouth.

"Spoilsport," muttered Sirius.

"All right, all right, go tell everyone to get back to their dorms," said Lupin crossly. "The students at least. God knows I'm not going to cross McGonagall." He glanced at his watch again. "Damn! Ten minutes past five. What's keeping that blasted Umbridge?"

"Oh! I forgot to tell you; she's already here." Sirius put his hands behind his back and whistled.

This was an attitude his companions knew only too well. Lupin tilted his head to one side. Tonks folded her arms. "Umbridge is already here," repeated Tonks.

"Mm-hm. Her and Fudge and Percy Weasly. I told them that you'd be a little late." Sirius went back to his whistling. He wasn't very good at it, but the point was to feign innocence, not make music.

"And what else did you do?" Lupin asked quietly.

Sirius stopped whistling. He opened his eyes wide. "Do?"

"To Umbridge and the others."

Sirius blinked. "What makes you think I did anything to them?"

A cry of outrage echoed through the halls of Hogwarts -- a scream of rage, disbelief, horror, and murderous intent.

"Well, I have to say that roused my suspicions," said Lupin mildly. The scream sounded again, closer this time. "You might as well tell me, Sirius. I'm going to find out anyway, and I'd rather be prepared."

Sirius studied the ceiling. "I just offered them some candy. That's all."

Lupin slowly grinned. "Candy. A rather, erm, special sort of candy?"

"Manufactured by two of Hogwarts' finest dropouts."

Tonks bit her lip to keep herself from snickering. "It isn't funny, Remus," she said, trying to be stern, "Umbridge sounds furious."

"Yes, she does." Lupin was having difficulty containing his glee. "I suppose I'll have to apolo-- what kind did she eat, Sirius?"

"A B.O. Bon-bon."

"All right!" Lupin and Sirius cackled and exchanged a high-five.

"Oh, come on guys," Tonks got control of the smirk that was playing around the corner of her mouth. "If she catches you laughing at her. . . especially you, Remus."

"Bit of a pity she didn't eat a Lemony Landmine. I hear they make your head explode."

"Oh, come now, Sirius, we wouldn't want to be picking toad brains out of every crack in -- "

"Remus!"

"Right, right." He schooled his expression to careful sobriety and took his seat behind his desk, folding his hands on top. None too soon either, for they could hear hard, angry footsteps pounding up the hallway.

"Lupin!" an unmelodious screech rang out. "Lupin, Lupin, Lupin!"

"Who does she think she is, Zenigata?"* muttered Sirius.

"She's not smart enough. If you'd be so kind as to show her in?" Lupin asked Tonks.

She nodded and opened the door with a flourish -- which was ruined when she instantly let out a cry and clasped a bit of her shirt to her nose. "Dis way, Miz Umbridge," she said in muffled tones. Umbridge's stench had kicked in full throttle.

Casting a hateful look at the girl, Umbridge stormed into Lupin's office. Her bodily funk came with her, seeming to ooze into and fill every corner of the room. Lupin's eyes began to water. Gareth Colby looked up in severe annoyance from his composition of an ode to ballpoint pens.

"Who's this smelly bird?" he demanded.

"Dolores Umbridge from the Ministry of Magic," replied Lupin, waving his wand to open the window. "She's here on official business."

Colby stared up at her with dark, wet eyes. His thin lips compressed into a tight line. "Didn't anyone ever tell you you should take a bath before visitin' people?"

Umbridge shrieked with rage and grabbed for her wand. Lupin hastily intervened. "Our time is up for the interview, Mr. Colby. Sorry it got interrupted."

"Yeah, well, it was kind of boring." Colby gathered up the four tablets and nine pens he had not owned prior to stepping into the room. "I'll see what I can do. Might make page six or something." He paused on the threshold of the door. "By the way, do you know your painting's blowing a bubble?"

He left. Those that remained could envy him, for the stink was getting thicker by the minute. "How good of you to come, Ms. Umbridge," Lupin managed before he was forced to take out a handkerchief and wipe his nose.

"Good? Good?!" she shrieked, too furious to care she was confronting a werewolf. "I only came because you demanded it. And look how I've been treated!"

Lupin raised a brow. "How have you been treated?" he asked politely.

Her eyes narrowed. "Can't you tell?"

There was a soft 'pop' as Dumbledore's gum burst. "You stin--" began the old man. Sirius quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

"I don't see any change in you." replied Lupin. He carefully kept himself from smirking. Funny how his headache seemed to have washed away. Cruelty to Dolores Umbridge was the best medicine he'd ever experienced.

"You don't notice any. . . any. . . hem, hem. . . " Umbridge scowled as she tried to think of a euphemistic way to phrase her condition.

Lupin shook his head. "You look the same as ever, Ms. Umbridge. . . except I've never seen those robes before. My, they are. . . fetching, aren't they?"

"Never mind my robes! Take a look at Minister Fudge and Secretary Weasley!" She grabbed Lupin by the scruff of his patched collar and dragged him into the hallway, where Cornelius Fudge was licking a picture of a bowl of fruit.

"Hello, Minister," greeted Lupin.

Fudge glanced up and waved. "The grapes are kind of yucky, but the apple's pretty good," he explained, and went back to it.

"I didn't know they were flavored," said Lupin, lips twitching.

Umbridge stamped a foot. "He's stupid!"

"That's not a kind thing to say about the Minister, Ms. Umbridge."

"It's because of that candy he ate! And look at Percy Weasley!" She threw out a dramatic hand. Lupin glanced beyond Fudge.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Umbridge, but I really cannot allow you to bring your pet along to the meeting."

"It's not a pet! It's a cow! It's Percy Weasley!"

Lupin frowned. "Percy Weasley is a cow?"

"Yes!"

"Cows are female," he pointed out. Umbridge, Sirius, and Tonks all froze as the absorbed the disturbing implications of this statement.

"Moo," said Percy placidly, chewing cud. Sirius bent to take a look.

"He, um, has udders," muttered Sirius.

A moment of silence.

"Oooh! Maybe you can milk him," suggested Dumbledore happily.

"Oh, man," groaned Tonks, "I don't know if I want to laugh or puke."

"Aren't you going to apologize?" screeched Umbridge waving her arms around some more. They wished she wouldn't. It only spread the smell about.

Lupin drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry Dumbledore suggested milking Percy Weasley."

"Not that!" Umbridge pointed an accusing finger directly at Sirius. "He offered us trick candy. That's why Percy Weasley is a cow and Minister Fudge is stupid and I. . . " She sputtered to a halt.

"Stink," finished Dumbledore helpfully.

"Oh, dear." Lupin clapped a hand to his face in an only slightly theatrical expression of dismay. "Do you think you could have given them the wrong bags of candy, Sirius?"

Sirius allowed his jaw to drop while he opened his eyes wide. "I don't think so. . . they were on your desk."

"Oh, dear." Lupin shook his head. "The bags you were meant to give them were in the top right-hand drawer." He looked at Umbridge sadly. "I'm afraid there's been a mix-up."

"You can stop the charade," Umbridge said coldly. "He already confessed."

Lupin looked at Sirius in simulated horror. "Sirius! You didn't!"

Sirius dragged a toe across the carpet. "Well, yes, shucks, I did," he admitted, hanging his head. "Sometimes being dead gets me down, and I have to play a joke to make myself feel better."

"Yes, yes, I understand," said Lupin, sympathetically patting his shoulder. "And I'm sure Ms. Umbridge, with her warm and compassionate nature, understands as well."

Ms. Umbridge glared like a basilisk. "I demand an apology. In fact, I demand reparation. Actually, I'm not going to be satisfied until I have your job for this, you -- "

"Awoo!" Lupin tilted his head back and howled softly. It was enough to make the point. Dolores Umbridge leaped backwards so far that she nearly made it down the stairs. She whipped out her wand and stood shaking it at him.

"Oh, sorry about that," said Lupin nonchalantly. "Confrontation upsets me, you see, and then I get the urge to -- " His gaze fell on her wand. His jaw sagged. "Wow," he whispered. "Hey, guys, did you see what she's got?"

Sirius took a look. Sirius fell over laughing and rolled about on the floor clutching his midsection. Tonks clapped both hands over her mouth and turned bright red. Little squeaks emerged as her shoulders shook.

Dumbledore's portrait was at just the right angle to catch a glimpse. His eyes bugged nearly out of the frame. "I'll be damned," he said loudly enough for every picture in the hall to hear. "She's holding a big green cock."

* * * * *

KA-QUACK!!!!

The lavatory door burst open in a gush of hot water and bubbles. Lucius and Snape, overwhelmed, fell to either side, gasping as the wave soaked them to the skin. It wetted the feet of those assembled and washed away the piles of dead or stunned rats, ferrets, chipmunks, and squirrels. McGonagall had been busy. The crowd fell back murmuring in awe as two shining figures strode forth from the loo.

One of them was rather pudgy.

"'Ello there," said Peter Pettigrew cheerfully, waving his silvery hand. He was naked except for a pair of towels: a thick red-and-yellow striped one wrapped around his waist and a rather horrid bluish one with a pattern of snitches dangling over his shoulders. Steam rose continually from his squat pink body, and as he spoke, large shining bubbles came floating out of his mouth.

Gilderoy Lockhart beamed at the gathering. Old instincts came into play. "Would anyone care for an autograph?" he asked. His skin had turned a peculiar shade of bright yellow. It also looked a little, well, rubbery.

Rita Skeeter pushed her way through the crowd like a starving man forcing his way to the front of the queue at McDonald's. "And just what exactly happened here?" she demanded, practically drooling, her eyes sparkling behind her ridiculous jeweled glasses. Her quill stood poised on its very tip, trembling slightly, as if preparing itself to make the run of its life.

Peter shrugged and itched himself under an armpit. "I want some dinner," he said, as if that explained everything.

"Oh, that's right," agreed Lockhart, absently grabbing the Quick-Quotes Quill and scribbling out his name a few dozen times. "We were locked in the bathroom and then we got hungry."

"I meant what happened a little before that," said Rita, reclaiming her quill.

Lockhart's brow furrowed. This was way too far back for him to remember. But Peter replied: "We was fightin' over 'is rubber duck, we was. An' before that, I was 'aving a lovely 'ot bath in the loo."

"I didn't know there was a bathtub in that lavatory," muttered Lucius, getting tiredly to his feet.

"Don't ask," answered Snape wearily, "because I don't want to know."

"And it was during your fight that your. . . new condition arose?" asked Rita.

"New condition?" Lockhart blinked, then lifted an arm. He studied the color a moment. "Goodness, that's flashy." He looked a bit longer. "I don't think it'll go well with lilac," he decided worriedly.

"Eh, you'll be all right, mate," said Peter genially. His stomach rumbled alarmingly. "Cor, if I don't get somethin' to eat soon, I might just implode."

Rita pulled a rather nasty old sandwich out of her handbag and shoved it at him. Peter accepted it without so much as winking and began munching. "What exactly happened during the fight?"

"I'm sure I don't remember," said Lockhart. He flapped his arms and a resounding 'quack' echoed throughout the corridor. "Oh, sorry about that."

"We was 'urling spells at each other," Peter explained through bulging cheeks. "Don't know exactly which ones. Don't rightly know if this knuckle'ead knows any real magic."

Lockhart chortled and looked for something else to sign.

"So what exactly did happen to them?" asked a confused Dean Thomas, wringing water out of the hem of his robes. "I mean, what are they?"

Snape was too tired and disgusted to be snarky. "They're gods, boy. Gods."

"Gods?" The awed murmur ran through the crowd like the whistling of the wind through dried autumn leaves. It was interrupted in its course by a thoroughly indignant 'bah'!

* * * * *

Gods? What the hell were Lockhart and Pettigrew playing at? Harry demanded to himself.

To be fair to Harry -- just for the sheer psychological effort of it -- this was a development he never could have foreseen. In fact, he'd never considered Pettigrew or Lockhart in his schemes at all. Learning that they had somehow managed to deify themselves was, for Harry, rather like enjoying a nice pork roast and later discovering it had been made of tofu -- quite at odds with the way the world was supposed to be.

"Bah!" he said again, as the impropriety of the situation smote him fully. "Like hell they are!"

Snape turned weary, uncaring eyes on the Boy-Who-Lived. "I'm afraid they are," he said flatly. "Pettigrew appears to be the God of Soapy Water while Lockhart is the God of Rubber Ducks." Snape concluded his statement by sniffing loudly, as if to say he was washing his hands of the whole sordid business.

"God of Rubber Ducks?" grunted Professor McGonagall, slapping her wand against the palm of her other hand. "Huh, that's not very impressive."

"Nor is the God of Soapy Water," added Professor Sprout. "I mean, what's he going to do? Watch over bathtubs and make sure the water's bubbly enough?"

"Who cares?!" screeched Harry, "the point is, they're gods! Why them? It's not fair! I want to be a god! I want to be the God of Pig Meat and Quidditch and Polo Shirts and any other bloody thing I can think of!"

Harry's outburst galvanized the crowd. "Hey, I want to be a god too!" whined Draco. "I want to be the God of Really Cool Things!"

"'Really Cool Things'?" Lucius's brow furrowed. "What stupid sort of a god is that?"

"It's not stupid, it's cool! Anyway, what would you be the god of, Pop?"

"Midgets," replied Lucius promptly, a dreamy expression coming over his face. "I'd be the God of Midgets."

"Oh, and that's not stupid at all, Pop!" Draco sneered. "As the God of Really Cool Things I'd dust your ass!"

"Don't fool yourself, son. There's nothing cooler than midgets."

Other people began taking up the call.

"I want to be a god too!"

"Yeah! The Sultry Goddess of Gossip -- that's me!" cried Rita, pumping her fist in the sir.

"I want to be the God of Slacking Off But Passing Anyway!" hollered Ron.

"The Goddess of Cruelty to Animals!" McGonagall, obviously.

"The Gods of Merry Rollicking Pranks!" chortled Fred and George, cavorting.

"The Goddess of Plants With Naughty-Looking Tentacles!" giggled Professor Sprout.

"The Goddess of Inaccurate But Highly Amusing Theories!" breathed Luna Lovegood.

"The God of Teachers Who Don't Thump You Even if You Can't Do the Spell Right," was Neville's rather complicated option.

Snape held up his hands for silence (although a vision of being the God of Slimy Things in Jars was dancing through his head) "No one else is going to become a god!" he announced fiercely.

"Like hell!" snapped Harry fiercely. There was no was he'd allow Pettigrew and Lockhart to seize all the glory.

"Ah, shut it, Potter," said Draco. "You want to be the god of three things. Greedy bastard."

"So what if I am?" demanded Harry, "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, dammit! I'm not bound by the same rules as the rest of you!"

"Well, you're certainly not a God of Quidditch, because you lost your last game," Draco reminded Harry, smirking. Harry colored.

"I'd never lose if I were the God of Quidditch," he growled.

"Quidditch is cool, so I'd trump you if I were the God of Really Cool Things," countered Draco.

"Would not!"

"Would too!"

"Would not! Bah!"

"Anyway, if anyone would be the God of Quidditch, it would be Viktor Krum."

"Viktor Krum's a big-conked Bulgarian thickie and he's not good enough to lick my boots!" screamed Harry.

There was a slightly aghast silence from the Quidditch-loving crowd.

"I agree," said Ron. "Grumpy Bulgarian git."

Dean Thomas turned disapproving eyes on Ron. "You agree?"

Ron abruptly remembered that Hermione was a cat now and there was really no point in being jealous of Krum anymore.** All his old affection for the sport came flooding back over him. "No, I don't agree," he said, reversing position in an instant. "Viktor Krum's the best Seeker alive. How dare you, Harry!"

"Bah!" shrieked Harry, outraged.

Lucius Malfoy coughed loudly. "Now that we've determined that Viktor Krum is not a thickie, could we have some cooperation?"

"You can ask," said McGonagall in a voice that promised nothing. Lucius wanted to glare at her, but there was too much about her that reminded him of an elderly Narcissa, so he settled for glowering at Neville Longbottom instead.

"You've all had your look now, so could you please get out of here and allow the cleaning staff to mop up all this water?"

"S'okay by me," said Peter, stuffing the last of the mangy sandwich down his throat and preparing to waddle off. Snape grabbed him by his towel. (Which thankfully did not fall off. Be grateful this isn't an X-rated story.)

"Not you, Pettigrew!" he snarled. "You're staying in the lavatory until the headmaster comes."

Peter's lower lip, predictably, began wobbling. "But I'm tired of stayin' in the loo, Severus," he whined. "And that there morsel weren't enough to fill me tum, if you knows what I mean."

"I'm not leaving until they tell me how to become a god!" shrieked Harry.

Snape turned on him. "How many house points do you want to lose, Potter?" he asked softly. "Remember, Dumbledore's not around to give you several thousand for burping in the hall anymore."

The assembled students muttered among themselves. Docking house points was about as deadly as threats got at Hogwarts. Harry shut his mouth and looked mutinous. Sensing victory, Snape folded his arms and stepped forward.

"Any student caught loitering in this corridor within the next three minutes will lose -- "

"Oh, my, Severus, your hair's clean!" blurted Professor Sprout. She tittered suddenly and pressed her fingers to her lips.

This information was drastic enough to stop Snape in mid-speech. He grabbed a handful of the offending locks and held it in front of his face.

It was dark and silky and just slightly wavy. It smelled of soap and had a healthy, natural shine to it. Snape gagged. "What on earth?" he gasped.

"God of Soapy Water," Lucius reminded him, pointing a finger over his shoulder at Pettigrew. Snape glowered at the beaming fat man.

"Oooh! He's kind of hawt that way!" a female voice whispered. Snape whipped his head around in shock. To his utter horror, several sets of eyes --and not all feminine ones either -- were gazing at him in a way he'd never experienced in his life. It made his flesh crawl.

"Go. Back. To. Your. Dorms!" he enunciated slowly and clearly.

His hair fell around his shoulders. Long and soft and utterly Byronic. A series of coy giggles erupted. Nor did anyone move. Apparently he just wasn't threatening without his greasy hair.

"Do you think he'd sign my bum in lipstick?" someone murmured. Snape had the sinking suspicion it may have been Neville Longbottom.

"Well, what now?" he demanded of Lucius, just barely managing to keep a hysterical note out of his voice. The blonde man shrugged in reply.

"I could set you up with Bellatrix. She'd drive your unwanted admirers away, and she's always thought you were rather cute."

"That is the scariest thing I've ever heard. In my life."

"Scarier that Professor Sprout having a crush on you?" Lucius pointed her out. She was giggling and waving a plump hand.

"Bellatrix could snap her in half. Lucius, I don't want any female admiration -- "

"Oh, that's right; you have a thing for Lupin."

"I do not -- !" Snape stopped and took a deep breath. "I do not want any male admiration either. In fact, what I want is to get out of here as quickly as possible. So what do you suggest we do about Lockhart and Pettigrew?"

Lucius studied them a moment. "Here's a radical thought. Why don't we just let them roam free?"

"Do nothing?"

"Exactly."

Snape thought about it. "It's not a bad idea. Except for one thing."

"And that is. . . ?"

"I'm going to feel a right prat for wasting so much time trying to keep them hidden."

Lucius clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't fret, Severus, it won't kill you. Might even be good for you in the long run."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't bother you?"

"Hey, I'm married to Narcissa. I'm used to daily ego-batterings."

"Ah, yes." He turned to Pettigrew and Lockhart. "Go where you please, but try not to cause any more trouble."

"Fair enough, guv," said Peter amiably, hitching up his towel.

"Did I cause trouble?" Lockhart blinked. "Oh, so sorry."

"Right." Snape cast a glance over his shoulder. It may have been his imagination, but it looked as if several members of the crowd had inched closer to him. Including Rita Skeeter, licking her lips with a predatory air. Now that was almost as frightening as Bellatrix. "Right," he repeated, "er, well, perhaps I -- "

"Perhaps you'd better run?" suggested Lucius, pressing up close to a wall so he wouldn't get crushed. The crowd was close enough now to feel the heat of their breath. "Now?"

"Ah, yes, run. Good idea, actually."

Snape took off, the crowd hot on his heels, cursing with every step whoever-it-was who had decided one shouldn't be able to Apparate in Hogwarts.

Lucius was left behind in the damp and squelchy corridor with Pettigrew, Lockhart, Draco, and a very sulky Harry. He stared thoughtfully after the distant, retreating figure of Snape.

"You know, they do have a point," he murmured, "He is kind of cute that way."

"I hate you, Pop," said Draco.

* * * * *

"It is not," hissed Umbridge, cheeks flaming, "a big green. . . you-know-what."

"Cock?" asked Dumbledore brightly. Umbridge glared.

"Yes, that," said Lupin, smothering a laugh. "Actually, it's her wand. It only looks like a -- "

"Big green cock," finished Sirius, nodding sagely.

"And I thought only men used their wands as an extension of their, well. . . " sighed Tonks.

Sirius put on a hurt look. "I haven't used my wand as an extension to my manhood since I was fourteen."

"Was that when you found out James's was bigger than yours?"

"Shut up, Remus."

"It does not look like such a thing in any case," insisted Umbridge, who, during her years of working for the Ministry of Magic had become very good at denying blatant reality. "It's a very special wand -- unique materials. Mr. Ollivander said it had sat on his back shelf for many years."

"Just waiting for you to come along and lay your hands on it."

"Throbbing with anticipation, no doubt," mutter Sirius. Lupin stifled a snort and studied the wand again out of the corners of his eyes. He wondered if Mr. Ollivander had had as difficult a time concealing his snickers. "Well. Ahem. Let's go back into my office," he suggested. All the portraits in the hall were whispering and tittering, making concentration most difficult. "Now, what were we talking about before we got, erm, sidetracked?" he asked after they'd all settled again.

"We were talking about the trick your friend here played on us." Umbridge's gaze flashed to Sirius. "He's a ghost? Then I insist you have him exorcised for his actions."

Sirius fell to the floor and began doing pushups. He made it a point to grunt in as loud and as masculine a way as he could. Dumbledore, predictably, imitated him. Umbridge's expression grew meaner than ever -- which they hardly would have believed possible. Her hand tightened around her wand.

"You continue to mock me," she said in her high, breathy, yet dangerous little voice. Even the stench wafting from beneath her pits smelled more sinister than it had before. "I assure you that's a very unwise thing to do."

Lupin was wincing. "Ms. Umbridge, could you please put your wand away? You're not in any danger, and I find the way you're holding it. . . rather distracting."

"I would too, if I were a guy," agreed Tonks. Umbridge glared, but tucked her wand into her belt, where it was mostly hidden by the folds of her frilly robe.

"Now," said Lupin, relaxing slightly, "All we're here to settle is the question of a pair of students' reinstatement. You are no longer the Hogwarts High Inquisitor and cannot condemn the students to death for sneezing at the wrong time anymore. I suggest you get over yourself."

She shook with rage. "I am still an influential member of the Ministry -- "

"Fudge is too stupid to care now," Lupin interrupted, " and no one in the Ministry likes you. They may have a certain grudging respect for you -- for reasons that escape me -- but there's not a single person there who'd spit on your head if your hair were on fire."

Umbridge colored but held her ground. "You may find out very differently, werewolf," she hissed.

"Perhaps I shall, but I'm willing to take my chances. Goodness, I'm enjoying this," he said to Tonks. Do you think I could get away with calling her 'Toadface'?"

"Perhaps," she replied, "But don't get carried away. And remember you have a staff meeting in less than half an hour. How about getting on with the hearing?"

"An excellent suggestion," agreed Lupin. "Where are Fred and George?"

"Probably having a gawk in the basement like the rest of them," she shrugged. She glanced about, located Sirius on the floor. "Could you stop that for a bit and go fetch Fred and George?"

"But I've almost reached fifty!" Sirius protested.

"And I'm on three!" beamed Dumbledore. His quivery old arms were shaking like reeds.

"You can take it up again when you return," Lupin promised them both.

"Oh, all right." Sirius hoisted himself to his feet and wandered through a wall. He popped his head back through to say: "I want you to know that I'm doing this just for you, Ms. Umbridge." He blew a kiss before disappearing again.

Umbridge growled, then settled herself in a chair and began to rummage through her purse, muttering darkly to herself. Tonks stuck her head out the window and gratefully inhaled a few gulps of fresh air. Lupin searched his desk to see if any ballpoints had escaped Gareth Colby's depredations, but the little reporter had been thorough. Silence reigned for a few minutes.

Then Cornelius Fudge wandered into the office. He'd licked the picture of fruit down to bare canvas and was looking for something else to suck on. He studied the portrait of Dumbledore a moment, as if gauging his edibility. Recognition slowly dawned, like sunrise over a vast ocean. "I thought he was dead," he said, brow furrowed.

Dumbledore immediately puckered up and began wailing.

"Oh, thanks for reminding him!" sighed Tonks, pulling her head in from the window and rolling her eyes. "It'll take hours to calm him down again." She went over the picture and patted the frame soothingly. "Albus, sweetie, it's okay. Remember? You like being a painting."

"But-but-but-- I can't eat Pop-Tarts anymore!" Dumbledore wailed, "and I'll never hold my teddy bear again. I want Morty! And-and-- I was going to learn how to ski for my holiday and now I never will!" Tears ran down his cheeks and soaked his beard.

Fudge was extremely baffled. He lifted the corner of the painting and peered behind it. He tapped the surface and was astounded to find it flat and unyielding. "Wow!" he breathed, "where is the funny man?"

"The funny man is the picture, dear," Tonks told him, patting him on the head.

"Wow! Neat! Can I be a picture? I want to be a picture too!"

"It can be arranged," promised Lupin with a slight smile. Sirius came strolling back through the wall.

"The twins are on their way," he announced, dropping back to the floor again. Umbridge glowered at him.

"You don't have to do that," she told him, "I mean 'exorcised' as in 'made to disappear,' not as in 'made to do calisthenics.'"

Sirius rested his chin in the cup of his hand. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I want to do push-ups?"

"Did it ever occur to you that I don't care what you want?" she retorted.

"Often," said Sirius, and went back to doing pushups.

"Look," Tonks told the blubbering Dumbledore, "Sirius is doing his exercises again. Don't you want to do them too?"

"No," replied Dumbledore sadly. "It'll just remind me that I can never be Mr. Universe now. And I always wanted lovely big rippling muscles."

"Me too," said Fudge, flexing his biceps.

They'd forgotten to watch Umbridge. They were reminded of her presence when an appallingly strong, sweetish, cloying aroma suddenly smote their nostrils. Tonks gasped in horror, pinched her nose shut, and ran into the hall. Fudge followed her, crying. Lupin jumped to his feet, and looked wildly about, spotting Umbridge just as she lifted an industrial sized bottle of toxic-looking perfume and liberally dabbed her neck and arms.

"Oh, God!" he gagged, close to asphyxiating on the mingled fumes of strong bad perfume and virulent B.O. "Didn't you stink enough already?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," replied Umbridge primly -- but there was a vengeful satisfaction in her eyes.

"Then you're an idiot. You smell worse than a troll," snapped Sirius. He seized the perfume bottle and flung it out the window. It struck the ghostly Hagrid, who vanished in a cloud of grayish smoke and was never seen again, but no one learned of this pleasant side effect until later. "Geez, I can smell it and I don't even have to breathe!"

Lupin tried casting a few spells to clear the air, but they fizzled out before they could take effect, no match for Umbridge's odor. "I think this could very well kill me," he gagged.

"Perhaps if you administered an antidote?" suggested Umbridge, watching him and looking rather smug.

"I don't know what the antidote is. Probably some other wretched bit of candy. Oh, what is it now?" he demanded of Tonks, who had just stuck her head in the door.

"Don't snap at me, Remus. There's a whole crowd of people coming up the staircase. They're heading right for your office."

Lupin closed his eyes. Now that he was listening, he could hear the tramp of many approaching feet and the chatter of many voices. "Are Fred and George part of the crowd?"

She checked. "Yeah. I see them at the front, waving their arms about and grinning like fools."

"Well, that's one small mercy at least. We can get this nonsense over with." He looked at Dolores Umbridge. "I'd had another room set up to hold the disposition in, but things being as they are, do you mind holding it here? The sooner to get it over with."

"I prefer to be official," she said stiffly.

"All right. Fine. We'll move to the staff room. Stink up the whole castle, why don't you?" he grumbled under his breath. He cast the Bubble-head charm on himself and breathed easier.

"You're not going to be able to get through the hall," said Tonks, following suit. "It's packed solid. Looks like the entire student population is here to see you."

"Any idea what about?"

"Frankly, I don't want to know."

"Me neither. Well -- " He walked to the door. He had to push Percy aside to see what was going on. Percy mooed benignly and licked his hand. His temperament had much improved since becoming a cow.

Tonks had not exaggerated. There had to be over a hundred people standing in the hallway. Maybe more. They stood crammed shoulder-to-shoulder, spilling out over onto the staircases. The portraits in the halls were goggling; a few had fled for safer terrain. Harry, who was at the front with Fred and George, hopped up and down like an enraged, red-and-white striped gnome. At the sight of Lupin, several dozen voices began crying out.

"I want to -- "

"When did -- "

"Snape is -- "

"Bah!"

"One at a time!" begged Lupin, holding up his hands. "I can't understand what you want."

There was another eruption of demands as everyone tried to speak at once. Lupin halted them again.

"That was not one at a time. Look, choose some delegates to tell me what you want. Meanwhile, Fred, George, could you come here please? Dolores Umbridge is here to see about your reinstatement."

The twins capered forwards. From the idiotic grins of delight on their faces, they were expecting this to be a walk in the park. Harry came along with them, sulking and dragging the toe of his trainers across the floor.

"Um, Harry, could you -- ?" Lupin began, but Harry flashed him a look of such immense sourness that he realized even being Harry's supposed father would not keep him safe from The-Boy-Who-Lived's malice should he thwart him. "Oh, all right. You can come too." Lupin told him.

Harry merely grunted in reply and stalked into the office, where he stood staring at Dolores Umbridge with eyes that should have murdered her on the spot. She returned the glare, with interest.

Lupin shook his head. "Tonks, would you kindly be crowd control for now? Thank you." He escorted the twins into his office and shut the door as far as he dared with Umbridge's stench in the room. "These are the students who -- "

"Yes, I recognize them," she snapped, her fishy eyes flashing to the twins. "Attacked fellow students after a Quidditch game, I recall. And left the school rather violently as well -- leaving behind an awful mucky swamp!"

"Cool, wasn't it?" said Fred, grinning proudly.

"Not in the slightest." She glared at them until even they caught her mood and began to fidget. "I presume there's an antidote for every, hem, trick sweet you make?"

"You presume wrong, sugar," said George happily.

"Bah-hah-hah," laughed Harry quietly.

Umbridge's face fell slightly, but she quickly recovered her composure. "Well, is there an antidote for. . . hem, hem. . . ?"

"B.O. Bon-bons," Sirius finished for her.

Fred's brow wrinkled. He lifted his arm and took a deep whiff of his pit. "Mine's still working a bit," he said.

George nodded. "Mine too. Of course ours was a different sort."

"An earlier sort."

"A weaker sort."

"Is there an antidote for your newer sort?" asked Lupin patiently.

"Did someone try one of those?" the twins asked eagerly in unison. Apparently the smell in the office had slipped past their attention.

"Yes."

"And they didn't die?"

"No," said Lupin. "Unfortunately," he added under his breath.

"Excellent!" Fred and George whipped out their clipboards and made notes.

"So, can you tell me if there's an antidote?" said Lupin.

"Umm. . . " Fred stared at the ceiling for a long moment. "Antidote. . . antidote. . . oh, yeah!"

"There is one?" said Umbridge brightening.

"Yes."

"Good!"

"But it turns you into a house elf."

"What?!"

"House elf. You know. . . " George mimed having big google eyes and a pair of floppy ears. "Pardon me, master, but can I lick out the potty for you, sir?"

"Bah-hah-hah!" giggled Harry again, smirking spitefully at Umbridge.

"Why does the antidote turn you into a house elf?" Lupin inquired.

"Well, it wasn't originally meant to be used as an antidote," Fred explained.

"No, they were part of another line altogether," George agreed. "Elf custards."

"Turn your friend into an elf for a giggle!"

"It's funny!"

"But irreversible."

"Sadly irreversible."

"But at least you friend can do your housework for you then!"

"So it isn't an antidote at all?" Lupin pressed.

"Well, once you're a house elf you don't stink anymore."

"Well. . . "

"Well. . . "

"Well, you stink in a different way."

"But the house elves don't mind."

"So neither should you."

"Bah-hah-hah-hah-hah!!!" cackled Harry. He'd temporarily forgotten his sulk over Pettigrew and Lockhart.

"So, do you want the antidote, Ms. Umbridge?" Lupin asked, turning to her and raising a brow.

"You mean my choice is to stink forever or. . . " words failed her.

"Become a house elf," nodded George.

"And stink in a different way," Fred finished.

"Well," said Lupin, thoughtfully, "the effect may wear off in time. If you drink lots of water and take regular baths and it could possibly be gone in a few days. Or weeks."

"Or you can become a lovely house elf," Sirius suggested. "Our Miss Granger used to do a lot for house elf welfare before she was turned into a cat. My mother did interesting things with house elves too. If you decide to take the antidote, I'll show you. That reminds me. . . " Sirius turned to Lupin with a slight frown, ". . . whatever happened to Kreacher? I didn't see him the last time I went by Grimmauld Place."

"We poured some gravy on him and Buckbeak ate him."

"Really?" Concern and delight warred on Sirius's face. "Good old Beaky. But is he going to be all right?"

"Buckbeak? Sure, he's fine. Well, he had horrendous gas for a few days after, but he got over it."

Umbridge found her voice again. "I do not want to be a house elf!" she shrieked.

"She doesn't want to be a house elf. Is there another antidote, boys?"

"Not yet," said George, "but we're willing to experiment if she wants to come by our shop."

Umbridge jumped to her feet. Her hand went for her wand, but she thought the better of it -- which was fortunate, for the effect of the sight of a cock-shaped wand on Fred and George would not have been pleasant to witness. "Experiment?!" she screeched, "I think not! I'm going to sue! I'll have your shop for this! And what's more, I will not, repeat, allow you back into Hogwarts!"

"That's your final word on the subject?" inquired Lupin quietly.

"It most certainly is!"

Lupin whipped out a piece of paper and a quill. "Could you initial this form then, please? Thank you." He handed it to Fudge as well, who tried to read it upside down before signing it with a big 'X'. "That's that, then."

"We can't come back?" asked George, disappointed.

"No!" Umbridge told him, looking smug.

"I'm sorry, boys," said Lupin, rising, "but your request has been denied. Have an enjoyable life pursuing your chosen career." He turned to Umbridge. "Nice work, Toadface. Get stuffed, and I hope you stink forever."

"Oh, well done, Remus!" cheered Sirius.

"BAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!" shrieked Harry, close to convulsing with joy.

Umbridge practically exploded with rage. She drew herself to her full, admittedly unimpressive height, shaking so hard it looked as if the bow in her hair would take off. "How dare you insult me, you filthy half-breed?!"

"Quite easily, and I enjoyed it too," Lupin told her. "If you enjoyed it, just stick around a while longer and I'm sure I can come up with some more."

"We all could," said Sirius.

"Gladly," agreed Tonks.

"Bah," added Harry, meaningfully rubbing the back of his hand where the words 'I shall not tell lies' were etched.

Umbridge looked around at the faces in the room. Even Fred and George, deprived of their desire, were glaring at her. She cast a glance at her allies, but Fudge was playing patty-cakes with Dumbledore while Percy dropped patty-cakes of a different sort on the rug. Something within her withered and died.

"I'll be back!" she whimpered before turning tail and running out of the room. They were all glad to see she trod in a Percy ploppy as she left.

There was a moment of satisfied silence. Then Sirius slapped Lupin on the back. "That went rather well, I thought."

"Yes, I think if I can survive the next half hour I might actually make it to the end of the year alive. Are the delegates prepared, Tonks? Good. Let them in."

* Intrigued by the relationship to Lupin's name, the Marauders had watched all the Lupin III movies they could get their hands on. This had led to a couple unfortunate incidents where they decided they were jewel thieves. Unfortunate for everyone else, that is. The Marauders had enjoyed themselves immensely.

** That hadn't stopped Ron, not long after Hermione's 'cat-ifacation,' from writing a response to one of Viktor's letters to her. It had read: 'Meow, meow, meow, purr, mew, lick, lick, meow, purr, scratch, mew.' Viktor had been, to say the least, taken aback.