Firewhiskey

Title: Firewhiskey

"Oh dear, Sybill," said Minerva McGonagall, staggering over to her fellow professor and leaning heavily on her shoulder, lest she fall to the floor in a heap. "This is my thirteenth glass of Firewhiskey. When I'm finished, will an axe-man be waiting next to the bottle?"

Sybill Trelawney, in all her large, insect-like glory, grinned stupidly and dumped her own glass of Firewhiskey all down her front. "I don't know, Minnie," she said. "For some reason, the future seems very cloudy. I keep trying to look, but all I see is my empty glass." She held up her empty glass. "Ah, here it is,' she declared, her words slurring. "Come, come, Minnie!" she declared loudly. "Let's go ask that nice axe-man for some more of this nice fruit punch." She staggered forward and tripped over her shawl, but McGonagall caught her.

"I think it's sherry, dear," she said.

Sybill blinked and then looked around. "Sherry's here?" she asked, looking around for her niece who, quite obviously, wasn't there. "Sherry? Oh, Sherry!" Tripping, she landed right next to a flowerpot that had just been watered. "Oh look!" she declared pleasantly. "White wine!" Dipping her glass into the wet soil, she took to eating the fertilized mud.

"This is a wonderful party you're having, Albus ol' boy!" declared Snape. He tilted his head back and sucked down his entire glass of Firewhiskey. "Absolutely spiffing! Who's getting married, again?"

"It's my socks," Dumbledore exclaimed quite happily. "Mrs. Right-Sock and Mr. Left-Sock have decided to get together." He smiled at Severus. "It's lovely, isn't it? And then, we'll have little mitten babies that I can wear on my toes. The Socks even said I could name them." He placed a hand over his heart. "I feel so honored. Don't you Severus?" He placed his hand over Severus heart. "You are honored, aren't you?" he asked. "Yes, of course, you are." Smiling, he turned away and headed toward the staircase. "Minnie, darling, where's the brandy?"

Snape wandered over to Filch. "Argus, ol' boy," he said, draping an arm over the caretaker's shoulder. "How's it coming along with you and Mrs. Norris? Tough times, lad?"

Filch sniffed heavily and wiped his running nose on his soaked sleeve for what must have been the thousandth time that night. "She just don't understand," he bawled. "I love her, Merlin knows it, but we simply can't be together!"

Snape patted his back gently. "I know, lad, I know. It's hard to love someone from a different species."

Filch sniffed loudly. "I know! Why'd she have to get married to that damn ol' Tom Cat, anyway? My dear Cynthia, a married feline!" He threw back his head. "It's horrible, I tell you! A scandal!" And he bawled.

Snape patted his shoulder. "There, there," he soothed, slyly taking Filch's drink from his grasp. "There'll be other seas in the fishes, ol' boy," he said, standing up and swaying like a willow. "Well, there you be. Bottom's up!" And he drained Filch's glass before collapsing to the floor in a dead faint.

"ALCOHOL POISONING!" Flitwick cried in his high-pitched squeaky voice. "SOMEONE CALL 9-7-6!"

The phone rang suddenly, shutting everyone up. They all looked over to see a blue fellytone held in the furry hand of a half-transformed Professor RJ Lupin. "Yes, hello?" he asked. "I'd like to order one large meat lover's pizza, extra meat, with a triple order of potato chips. Yes sir, right on top, sir. Have I been drinking? No, sir! I haven't had a drink at all in my life. Why, just today I was telling Hagrid over my seventy-sixth pint of Bourbon that I've never had a drink before in my life. How long ago was that? An hour, I think. Yes sir, today's my first day drinking. No sir, I haven't tasted alcohol in my life. Just Bourbon."

"ANCHOVIES!" McGonagall suddenly screamed and lunged for the phone. Grasping it in her fingers, she screamed, "THEN YOU BETTER GO CATCH IT!" Before taking off again in a mad dash for the axe-man who was handing out free jello-shots.

"I say, is that a triple-decker ice cream sundae with extra fudge, caramel, peanut butter, strawberry, marshmallows, and Oreo cookie topping?" Lockhart asked, staring at the huge dish of beautiful fattening food Madam Pomfrey was shoveling into her mouth.

"Nope!" she declared happily. "This is my cure for the common health problem. You're too healthy, eat this everyday for the next year and you're guaranteed to keel over." She swallowed a large spoonful. "It's even more effective with arsenic. Worked like a charm on that old toad woman, Umbridge. She never did look like much of an ice cream person."

"I say, can I have a bite?" Lockhart asked.

"Go suck down your own rat poison, Fool!" Madam Pomfrey declared, and whipped out the syringe.

Lockhart ran, screaming like a banshee, in the other direction. "SHERRY!" he declared.

Sybill looked up from dining on the plant soil. "Sherry's here? Oh, Sherry, darling, come to Auntie Sybill!"

"Hagrid, long time no getting stepped on!" Flitwick declared, rushing over to greet the half-giant. "What have you been up to?"

"Dancin', Pr'fessor," Hagrid answered gleefully. "WATCH!" And then he began to dance. The walls shook, stone crumbled, torches fell to the ground, and sparks shot from the tip of Hagrid's pink umbrella.

"Oooh, fireworks!" McGonagall declared, leaving the terrified axe-man to run to safety as she went over to watch. The sparks from Hagrid's umbrella landed on Snape's hair. The grease in his hair worked like gasoline and suddenly he was on fire.

"Oh my God!" Quirrel exclaimed. "You're on fire!"

"Why, thank you!" Snape declared, suddenly revived. "I feel like as a feather, 'cause I'm hot, hot...HOT!" Realizing that he was, quite literally, on fire, Snape began to run in mad circles. This, however, had grease and flames catching everyone else on fire, and soon the entire staff was writhing in flames.

"Norbert!" Hagrid exclaimed, recognizing the fire as the flames of his baby dragon. "He's come home to Mummy! Where are you, honey?"

The staff was burning in flames when Dumbledore, whose beard and hair were nothing but a pyre, suddenly stood up and declared, "LET'S SING THE SCHOOL SONG!"

And so, the staff began to sing:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

More Firewhiskey please,

We know that we are old and bald

And some with furry knees,

Our stomachs could do with filling

With some alcoholic stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

We want hallucinations worth showing,

To look cool and full of spunk,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And drink until we're drop-dead drunk!"

Peeves, being the insane little poltergeist he was and loving chaos like a true Marauder, found the predicament of the teachers highly amusing. It wasn't every day you got to see the Hogwarts professors drunker than the Giant Squid after St. Patrick's Day, blazing with flames like Fawkes on a Burning Day. He found it all rather entertaining, but he wasn't about to be left out of the fun.

And so spinning into the room like a helicopter, the spinning propeller on his cap twirling madly, Peeves pulled the other ghosts into a jagged line and led them all in a very unharmonious song as the teachers burned and writhed in flames behind them.

"DECK THE HALLS WITH GASOLINE!" the ghosts roared, under Peeves' watchful eye and commanding hand. He made sure everyone was singing, and he watched in amusement as the Bloody Baron poured barrel after barrel of gasoline over the stone walls and curtains.

"LIGHT A WAND AND WATCH IT GLEAM!" Grabbing the wand from the flailing hand of Severus Snape, the Fat Friar pointed it at the gasoline drenched walls and watched sparks shoot out of it, decorating the room in a firework-like display. And then the gas caught, blue flames roaring like a tidal wave across the gasoline. The ghosts weren't concerned. After all, they couldn't die again.

"WATCH THE SCHOOL BURN DOWN TO ASHES!" And so they did, gazing in amusement as the living flames consumed the stone school, turning the statues to dust and devouring the curtains like candy. Peeves knew this would be a night to remember. No one would forget him now, for he ended the misery of teaching, and so, with a high heart, though it no longer beat, he sang the last line in a solo that raged above the roaring flames.

"NO MORE KISSING TEACHER'S ASSES!" Ah, sweet redemption...

"FLA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!"