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Summary: Magic doesn't have a sense of humor. Or at least it doesn't have one that matches Harry and Hermione's. Stupid magical contract. Oh, and Hermione accidentally becomes a Big Bad.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Multiple Pairings > HumorDireSquirrelFR151842,94831285122,48310 Aug 1021 Nov 13No

A Sweet Song in Their Hearts

“Wormtail!” the homunculus that housed the shade of Voldemort demanded, calling the simpering sycophant over to him.

“Yes my master?” the rat-faced man replied, kneeling down before him.

“I have a cunning plan to regain my power, you are going to help me,” the shade-formerly-known-as-Tom-Riddle explained. “There is a ritual, but it will take some time to enact. First, however, we need to distract the idiotic sheep of the wizarding world.”

“Yes, my great and mighty dark lord,” the shade's minion sycophanted in reply. “And what will that distraction be?”

“You're going to summon a demon,” the shade explained further. Peter balked at the idea of trafficking in the infernal realms, but ole Voldy was having none of it. “There's a text that you need to recover first. This demon has brought empires to their knees in the past. One measly group of sheep should be nothing.”

“I-uh...” the traitor Marauder stammered, trailing off as he sought out some sort of reasonable excuse to get out of the task. His feeble attempts at diverting the conversation were as futile as resistance.

“You shall serve me well, Rat, or I'll serve you to Nagini,” Voldemort commanded in a voice incongruous with his current miniscule and grotesque form.

“Your will is mine, master,” Wormtail quickly replied.



“Why do I feel like something terrible is going to happen?” Harry asked in Nice. Hermione looked up from her book with a quizzical expression. For the first time in a week, they were not on the beach, but in a small cafe that had the most amazing treacle tart. Which was odd, since treacle tart wasn't exactly an example of French cuisine.

“What prompted this feeling?” Hermione asked.

“I'm not sure. It's just... I know it's August, but it feels like late May, early June,” Harry said clearly puzzled.

“It's not the weather is it?”

“Nope.”

“The clothing?” Hermione asked. “Or lack there of? We are in the south of France, after all.”

“No, not that either,” Harry said. “I'm not really sure, but it seems like something truly dreadful has been figured out and I'm not sure how to explain the feeling.”



“Remus,” Faith said leading her boy toy into the isolated Himalayan Temple, “This is Oz.”

Oz was apparently a very short man with electric blue hair sitting cross-legged on a pillow positioned on a patio overlooking a lush valley with numerous mountains beyond. Remus sighed as he hung his head.

It had taken him two days before he managed to convince Faith to remove the gag and another two weeks of hiking before he convinced her to untie him. Even then, the powerful woman kept a leash on him. A literal leash. It was humiliating and as the days went on he became increasingly worried about the waxing of the moon.

Now, after what seemed like weeks of travel by foot and by goat cart, they had finally arrived at this luxurious temple that seemed to be something out of a fantasy adventure novel. This was especially amusing to Faith.

“Ha! You're a wizard and a werewolf!”

“Yeah, so?” Remus asked.

“And you're complaining about something looking fantastical?” Faith asked, her smirk threatening to burst into full blown laughter. He paused to think about it before sighing.

“Yes, I suppose you're right, but it just looks so...” he trailed off, attempting to find the right adjective.

“Awesome.”

Remus turned to look at the man who seemed to have come out of his meditation. Remus just looked at the man totally confused.

“Awesome,” the man repeated with a little nod. Remus shrugged in lack of understanding. “The word you were looking for.”

“Not quite,” Remus objected.

“Yes,” Oz corrected with a nod. “Yes, it was.”

And that was how Oz met Remus.



It wasn't until after much eating and drinking and chilling (and Oz had become something of a master at chilling) that Remus got to confront Oz over the whole lycanthropic elephant in the room.

“You are a werewolf,” Oz said calmly. Although Remus had noticed that Oz was pretty much always calm.

“I know,” bemoaned the former Hogwarts professor.

You are a werewolf,” Oz said, this time with emphasis and a slight squinting of his left eye. Remus twitched a little.

“I know, that's why Faith kidnapped me and took me here,” Remus grumbled. “I don't even know how we made it through customs.”

“You are a werewolf,” Oz said for a third time.

“I KNOW!” Remus bellowed, the force of his voice waking baby Kelden in the next room.

“You know,” Oz said with an airy, priestly tone, “but you do not understand.”

“Of course I understand! I was bitten! I was a kid!”

“You must understand,” Oz replied as if he hadn't even spoken.

“Understand what?” he demanded.

“That you are a werewolf,” Oz replied.

Remus let loose a growl of frustration and threw his hands up in the air.

Oz looked at Faith's new boy toy with an appraising eye.

'Dude seriously needs to chill,' Oz thought to himself. 'I will have to train him as I was trained.'



Severus Snape was not a sociable person. If child dictionaries had the word 'misanthrope' in them, Severus Snape's face would be the picture next to it. He could have just brewed potions, but no, he had to try and make something more of himself. He just had to show how much better he was than James Potter and his three little hell-spawned friends. Unfortunately, due to his past life choices, he was not allowed to simple vanish into his brewing room to bottle fame and put stoppers in death now that time had moved on.

No, both his allegiances forced him to make social appearances on a regular basis. Dumbledore's side was easier, just a few staff meetings, parent teacher discussions and some Order meetings based on Albus' candy of the month. It was the other side that was the problem.

Severus Snape fully acknowledged that he had made bad choices in the past. Being a Death Eater had not ended with Voldemort's demise at the scarring of young Harry Potter. In fact, if anything, being a member of a club that was no longer active had actually increased the number of social events he was forced to attend as the original members grew older. Nostalgia made them forget how many crucio spells their former master had tossed out on whims, how many people had been killed by his wand for presumed incompetence or betrayal.

Now, more than ten years later, Severus Snape was attending a gathering of former Death Eaters who had been “under the Imperius Curse” during the years of Voldemort's reign. These were wealthy and powerful people, people who, if angered or publicly insulted, could make Severus Snape's life very difficult. It was one thing to receive an invite to a home for a casual dinner and have to decline due to delicate potions in the cauldron, it was something else entirely for him to skip a larger gathering of several families. And so, this was how Severus Snape found himself sitting across from Daphne Greengrass, a mediocre, if Slytherin, potion brewer, and next to the most terrifying person in the world.

This was not Bellatrix LaStrange.

This was not Voldemort reborn.

This was not Albus Dumbledore after too many Lemon Sherbert Drops, or LSD as the Headmaster liked to call them.

No, Severus Snape was sitting next to the frightening, the terrifying, the dangerous, direful, dreaded, and desperate Narcissa Malfoy. Not just a desperate Narcissa Malfoy, but a desperate Narcissa Malfoy who hadn't had sex in almost 15 years. Not since the week that Draco was conceived.

It was a spot he feared frequently over the years, a spot Lucius had assigned him at many such gathering. It was not well know, but the only person Severus Snape hated more than James Potter (though there were many who came close), was Lucius Malfoy. Because Lucius Malfoy always made him sit next to Narcissa Malfoy.

“And what do you think about that, Severus?” Lucius asked him, turning everyone's attention to the potions master. He knew all their faces, having either taught them or worked along side them under the Dark Lord.

“You have brought me to the seat of Death Eaters' throne,” said Snape surprised inwardly that the words his mouth issued were not the words he had meant to speak, though his body gave no such clue to his discomfort. “To this magical world where all must pay homage to magic...magic...”

He shot a fearful glance at Narcissa, who looked like she was about to strike.

“You have come here, for one purpose, and one alone,” Snape said. “I first heard you speak, I have needed to change things, to brew things, for my magic... my magic...”

“Severus? What does that mean?” Lucius asked, quite confused as to the meaning behind his friend's words. “I don't understand what this has to do with Draco wanting to be a dentist.”

Severus Snape opened his mouth to reply and then the worst thing possible happened.

Completely and utterly against his own will, Severus Snape began to sing as the sound of Andrew Lloyd Webber's “Music of the Night” sprung up all around them.


Cauldrons boiling, no silly wand waving,
Potions prompt, incite imagination
Done with my pretenses, stripped are your defenses
Helpless to resist my brewer's might
For I now brew the potions for the Light!


Snape's eyes went wide as he realized what he'd just said in front of a whole group of Death Eaters, but found himself unable to stop himself or the music that sprung up from nowhere to accompany him.

Always quick to fix his mistakes when his life was on the line, the potions master enlarged his portable potions set and began brewing even as everyone was dancing in time to his song.


Taste it, smell it, unkindly unforgiving
Blending, stirring – tumultuous in ending
Hearing is believing
Though I've been deceiving,
And become Dumbledore's black knight,
For I have changed my allegiance to the Light!


Snape danced as his ladle made a precise one quarter turn from south to east and then from north to west. He glanced at everyone in the room and captured their attention completely. To their horror, the Notts started humming a backup.


Cover your ears, for your ears can only hear the truth
And the truth isn't what you ought to hear
We of the dark make it easy to pretend.
Forget all this and think we just drank beer.


He pulled Narcissa to his chest and spun around the room as couples paired off, all the while singing perfectly in key.

Forget that I brew potions for the Light.

They spun around and bent down into a dip as he sprinkled the next ingredient into the bubbling cauldron.

Chopping, mincing,
Ingredient preparation
Stir it, blend it - use proper incantations
This will close your mind,
Let your memories rewind
Against my potions you all know you cannot fight
For I now brew the potions for the Light!


Pulling out his wand, he and Narcissa spun as he flicked the tip, conjuring vial after vial.

Close your eyes, start a journey
To a Brave New World
Dismiss my words
Since Voldemort is dead
Let my brews take you where you ought to be


He showed his amazing lung capacity as he stretched out the final word before leaning in close to whisper in Narcissa's ear.

Remember only what I want you to see

Snape flicked his wand and the cauldron was removed from the heat. He then dipped and allowed Narcissa to fall into a perfect split at his feet before he spun her around, lifting her up over his head and spinning her around and around until the potion had cooled just enough.


Wafting, breathing, sweet intoxication
Trust me, Trust me,
Lose your inhibitions


Narcissa danced around him, her arms never leaving his body as the man diligently poured the Lethe potion into the conjured vials. Together they spun around the room and passed the vials to the other party goers.

Let my brew begin,
Let my magic take you in,
To the Lethe potion I have brewed this night
With the power of the potions of the Light!


Every party goer save for three downed the potion in one go, tossing the now empty vials into the fireplace.

You must all forget my words this night.
Forget that I brew potions for the Light!




In Tibet, Remus Lupin looked up and cocked his head, his attempt at meditation a temporary failure.

“What?” Oz asked.

“There was a great disturbance in the magic,” Remus said. “As if someone thinks the Marauders played a prank, and screamed out in anger.” He paused a bit. “Which is odd because I'm pretty sure we haven't done anything like that in a while. Though it could be Padfoot's fault, I suppose.”

“Huh...” Oz said before whacking Remus on the head with a fan. “Get back to meditating.”



In London, Albus Dumbledore, Amelia Bones, Amos Diggory, Daedalus Diggle and several other members of Order related families had joined together to deal with a particular problem.

“We have an issue with Cornelius dealing more and more with Lucius Malfoy,” Dumbledore explained. “I have tried repeatedly to have him put pressure on the man or even to press charges for endangering the students, but still nothing seems to be getting done.”

“I agree,” Amelia Bones said. “What you said about the Chamber should have been enough to at least prompt an investigation, something I am quite willing to oversee personally, however, when I spoke to Fudge about it, he said 'Oh I looked into that and I'm quite satisfied nothing went wrong.' The man is only concerned with his appearance!”

“And he put my good friend Hagrid in Azkaban! Why?” Daedalus Diggle protested, his top hat almost shaking off his head.

“According to what I heard, he needed to be seen 'doing something'” sneered an irate Amos Diggory. “We all have children, grandchildren and friends in that school. And then the madman allowed those monsters around our children. How many close calls did we have? They took to the pitch when my son was on the field!”

“Yes my friends,” Albus said as the inexplicable Sound of Music started up. “He adds a fee,”

He nags at me,” Amelia

He hauls Umbridge everywhere,” Daedalus sang.

He waltzes into Malfoy's court,” Amos continued. “And doesn't even care.”

And underneath his robes, he wears golden underwear,” Albus sang.

I even heard him laughing with McNair,” Amelia drawled out.

As one they took a breath and stood up.

He's always late for Court,” Diggle spat, “except on Malfoy's reel.

He's always late for everything,” Amelia sang. “Except for every meal.

I hate to have to say it,” Albus began, “But I very firmly feel, Cornelius' not an asset to the Ministry!

I can't find or say a word in his behalf,” Amos Diggory groused. “The idea of it makes me laugh!

Then all of a sudden they walked into rows and stood up, hands clasped before them, everyone present humming along.


How do you solve a problem like Cornelius?
How do you find the way to pin him down?
How do you find a word that means Cornelius?
A blast ended skrewt! A grand piece of shit! A dunce!


They looked at each other in horror as they realized their inability to cease singing. As one they started to dance around the room, using wands to flick furniture out of the way.

Many a thing you know you'd like to tell him
Many a thing he has now wrought.
But how do you make him stay,
And listen to all you say,
How do you do so without gold in hand?





Albus scowled deeply as he set a hand on Amelia's shoulder.


Oh, how do you solve a problem like Cornelius?
And should we do it with our wands in hand?




As one they summoned their chairs back and sat down as the music died and they attempted to find out the next possible solution to their problem.

Then the door burst open and a panicking Severus Snape ran in. He slammed the door behind him, hit it with a door locking charm, then conjured up boards that he haphazardly nailed over the windows.

“Um...” Amos Diggory started, before pausing as they watched a frantic, frazzled Severus Snape charm the curtains black.

“I can be safe here!” Snape declared. “They'll never find me! BWAHAHAHAHA!”

Sev-er-us,” Albus Dumbledore said like a chastising father. “You're cackling madly.”

“Two portkeys, seven apparation jumps, two stretches on the muggle bus and a taxi,” Snape continued, his manic look suggesting he'd never even noticed Dumbledore said anything. He backed up against the wall and glanced back and forth as if trying to see where his attacker would strike from.

“Seev~y,” a dulcet voice called from the hallway. “Every step you take, every move you make, every vow you take, I'll be stalking you.

“SHE'S FOUND ME!”

“Is he on the run from the law?” Amelia Bones asked pointedly.

"No, Amelia," Dumbledore said. "Just the Police."

Can't you see? He belongs to me,” the voice continued to sing from the hallway.

“The law?” Severus sputtered in fear, shaking his head as only someone in dread terror could. “No, the law can't save me.” He ran over and grabbed Dumbledore by the lapels. “You need me! I'm too valuable for you to lose me to madness! You've got to get me out of here!”

Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I'll be stalking you .


“Severus, my boy,” Albus said. “You don't need to run from Mrs. Malfoy. I'm sure if you just explain the situation to her calmly-”

“Lay off of him, you old hag!” a girl's voice called out. “He's mine!”

“Oh-hoho-ho! The little Greengrass baby wants to come out to play in the big leagues, does she?” Narcissa taunted. “Please. You're not woman enough for a man like my Seev~y. Go back to your crib and try again in a few years!”

Snape shivered like he'd just walked outside naked in Fairbanks, Alaska in January. He shook his head, shot a glare at the Headmaster, and apparated away.



Fred and George Weasley looked on in absolute horror. They had seen strange and unusual things in their lives. There had been flying cars. There had been larger than generally acceptable spiders. There had been magic maps and magic castles.

But nothing could prepare them for the horror they witnessed today.

Percy, Ron and Arthur had wisely fled when the inexplicable beat started up, but the Twins had stayed, intrigued by the hypnotic sounds that seemed to have no source. It was not until they witnessed their mother transfigure her and their sister's clothes into a wild array of corsets, neon colored hair extensions, thick black leather boots and obscure skirts that more closely resembled belts that the horror began.

Both Weasley women began to dance to the hypnotic beat in a rhythmic, a sudden gigantic industrial fan that appeared behind them periodically shining light and projecting shadows spinning in time. Their arms moved in geometric shapes and their legs moved in time. Beams of light reflected off the goggles perched on their foreheads as they gyrated around the Burrow.

Molly and Ginny had been transformed into Cyber Goth Dance Queens.

“I cannot unsee what I have seen,” the twins said in perfect monotone.

Together they shivered.



In their hotel room, Harry stood up and stumbled to the door to answer the incessant pounding from the other side. He peeped through the eyehole only to flinch back in shock.

“Who is it?” Hermione asked from under her pillow.

“It's Snape.”

Suddenly Hermione was entirely awake.

WHAT?”

“And he looks ancy,” Harry extrapolated.

“Bloody hell Potter! Let me in!” the man growled like a cornered dog. Reluctantly Harry unlatched the chain lock. No sooner was it free did Snape shove it open with the strength of a man several times his size and rush into the room. He did not even appear to notice Hermione staring blankly at him as he flicked his wand, hauling the bed into the air as he fell into a roll. The bed lost it's momentary aversion to gravity and fell to the floor with a great thump.




On the hotel floor below them an elderly couple glared at the ceiling.

“Damn newlyweds,” the wife grumbled as the ceiling shook and creaked as the bed moved.




“Professor Snape, what are you doing here?”

“I'm not here; you never saw me,” hissed Snape from under the bed.

“But we did see you,” Hermione pointed out, bending over to look at the man.

“I don't know,” Harry said. “This seems like something from a nightmare.”

“This is what you do, isn't it Potter? Save those who need saving? Well, shut up and do it!” Snape snapped. Reluctantly, Harry crawled back into bed with Hermione. It was quite clear that neither one could sleep with their new roommate and they watched the moon sink into the horizon.

“You know what, Hermione?” Harry said.

“What?”

“Well, I never understood being afraid of the monsters under the bed when I was little,” Harry admitted. “But I think I do now.”

As they sat there, the covers up around their chins, a quick tapping of the low keys of the piano started up, a quick dun-dun-dun-dun with the occasional tap of a snare drum as a bit of a Rocky Horror Show song started up.

Unable to help herself, Hermione started to sing.




In the velvet darkness of the blackest night
Lurking here, there's a potioneer
Right where we're trying to get some sleep.


There's a Snape,” Hermione and Harry sang before the door opened up and the rest of their family poked their heads in and sang along, “hiding underneath their bed.
There's a Sna-a-a-a-ape,” Hermione sang.

-That came tumbling from the fireplace,” everyone else finished.
There's a Snape-” Harry and Hermione sang, holding the covers up to their necks, “-A Snape! underneath our French holiday queen sized bed.

Severus Snape's silky tenor issued forth from beneath the queen sized bed.

The great darkness comes no matter how I try to stop it,
Go Malfoy go, keep Narcissa from interfering
with my life, with my li-i-i-iiiiiiife.


There's a Snape,” Hermione and Harry sang as they marveled at Snape being able to sing like that, “hiding underneath our bed.
There's a Sna-a-a-a-ape,” Hermione sang, still not sure how they had burst into song.

-That came tumbling from the fireplace,” everyone else finished.
There's a Snape-” Harry and Hermione sang, holding the covers up to their necks, “-A Snape! And he's disturbing in so very many ways.




When the music faded away, Xander, still standing in the doorway of Hermione and Harry's room with the rest of the girl's family, turned to Dawn and Buffy.

“Sweet?” he asked.

Buffy nodded. “Sweet.”

“You know that's not really his name,” Dawn reminded him.

“Yep, but I'm sure as hell not going to call him Sweetie like he wants,” Xander replied.

Buffy nodded. “Okay, I'll go call the lawyers, then.”



Deep in the dilapidated mansion of the Riddle family, Wormtail bowed before the homunculus that housed his master and knelt before him. His dread lord might have resembled a reanimated partially masticated fetus, but was still powerful enough to cow the rat into obeisance.

“Oh master, I do hope this summoning has worked,” Peter Pettigrew simpered.

“Well, so long as you got the incantation right, everything should be fine,” the creature replied.

“I did everything as you requested, Master,” the rat replied. “But I cannot help but worry.”
“Worry? Why should you be worried?” Voldemort asked as a baseline started to pick up.

Bum, bum, bum, ba-da-dum! Bum, bum, bum, ba-da-dum! Bum, bum, bum, ba-da-dum! Bum, bum, bum, ba-da-dum!

“Well, Master,” Pettigrew replied as he swallowed nervously.

I got chills; They're multiplying
And I'm losing control
'Cause the Curses you're supplying,
they're crucifying!
” Pettigrew sang as he suffered under his master's spell.


You better shape up,” Voldemort sang, “'Cause I need a pawn, and I've settled for you.” It pointed its wand at the animagus and scowled. “You better shape up; you better understand, To my goal I must be true.

Nothing left,” Pettigrew balled. “Nothing left for me to do
Peter picked up his master and spun around the abandoned mansion, singing at the top of his lungs. “You're the one that I fear.”
“Oo-oo-oo, Master,
The one that I fear,
Oo-oo-oo, Master
The one that I fear,
Oo-oo-oo, can't secede,
Oh, no indeed.”


Voldemort scowled and rose up, perched on Nagini's monsterous head.
“Last decade,
Of dereliction
Have left me none too pleased.
Better take my direction
Or you'll be diseased.”


Peter cowered before his less than impressive master and sang down to the floor.
“I better shape up
'Cause you need a pawn.”

“I need a pawn,”
Voldemort agreed.

“Who can bring you back alive.
“I better shape up
If I'm gonna prove,”

“You better prove”
Nagini hissed.

“That my choice was justified.”


“Are you sure?” sang Voldemort with a suspicious look on his face.

Pettigrew paled as his eyes grew large. “Yes I'm sure down deep inside.”


“You're the one that I fear.”
“Oo-oo-oo, Master,
You are the one I fear,
Oo-oo-oo, Master
You are the one I fear,
Oo-oo-oo, just can't secede,
Oh, no indeed.”



“Wormtail?” Voldemort hissed darkly.

“Yes, Master?” his minion simpered.

“You didn't specify targets for the demon when you summoned it, did you?” the creature which resembled an undead lovechild of a leprechaun and a Frankenstein's monster with microphasia.

“Um...”

“I'm going to take that as a 'no,'” Voldemort declared. “Crucio.”

Wormtail's subsequent screams echoed throughout the valley of Little Hangleton.



As the day continued on, more and more wizards and witches in Britain were infected with the urge to dance and sing. Not only that, people were actually much better than normal.

“I finally fixed that seeeeeeeam!” Madame Malkin sang gloriously as she held up a mended set of robes to the sky as her Diagon Alley back up danced around her.

In Hogsmeade, however, things were not so innocuous.

Fourteen year old Seamus Finnegan was visiting the Scottish magical village for their Harvest Fair and had spotted some of his schoolmates.

“Bones! Abbot!” he called out with a wave to the Hufflepuffs.

“Finnegan, how's your summer been?” Hannah Abbot said with a kindly smile. They weren't close, or even on first name basis, but they were still

“Not bad,” Seamus said, glancing at the girls' growing chests. “It's been a bust, I mean a blast. How about you?”

“Pretty good,” Hannah replied. “Sue and I were just out for some tea, but the breeze is a bit too brisk to have it outside.”

“Yes, I suppose it is a tit bit nippley, isn't it?” Seamus commented, not making consistent eye contact.

“Are you okay?” Susan asked the boy, giving him an odd look.

“Yes, it just that-


Down at a Hogsmeade fair one morning I was there
When I heard Sue's jumper shouting over her underwear,


I’ve got a lovely pair of Hufflepuffs,
Here they are a bouncing to and fro,
Sue's got big ones, I swear as big as your head”
“Give them a twist a flick of the wrist,
” Seamus sang as his hands moved without his will.
And that was when I fled,” he called out over his shoulder as Susan Bones' face turned the same shade as her hair. Hannah Abbot, Nymphadora Tonks (who was temporarily reassigned for Fair security), and a number of other current and former Badgers saw this and soon had their wands out.

Oh, I'm fleeing an angry bunch of Hufflepuffs
Attempting to hex to and fro.”


He was joined by his housemate, who was similarly ducking under beams of light.
With me flees Dean, Crap that curse was green!
Screaming Dodge a curse and go hide on the pitch


Dodge a curse and go hide on the pitch
Dodge a curse and go hide on the pitch
Roll a bit and bounce, roll a bit and bounce
Screaming dodge a curse and go hide on the pitch.”


When they finally got to the Quidditch stands, they lurked in the shadows, hiding from their pursuers who had fanned out to look for their prey.

Sue's got a lovely pair of Hufflepuffs

They’re lovely,” Dean agreed.

There they are a bouncing too and fro

One, two, three, four,” Dean said, counting the wands targeting them.

There's big ones, small ones, Tonks' are as big as she wants

“-And bigger,” Dean was quick to point out.

Her wand did twist, a flick of the wrist
And filled me full of dread,”
Seamus sang as his singing gave away his hiding spot and the curses started flying again.

I'm still fleeing an angry mob of Hufflepuffs
I swear it really is not my fault!

With me stands me mate, we're about to meet our fate
Singing really hope I don't die on the pitch


“All together now,” Dean called out.

Really hope I don't die on the pitch

“Harmony,” Dean called out.

Really hope I don't die on the pitch
Really hope I don't, Really hope I don't
Singing really hope I don't die on the pitch


Standing back to back within a circle of wands pointed at their necks, both boys held up their hands in defeat.

“You don't think we could talk this over, do you?” Dean asked.

The look on Susan's face suggested that would not be a likely outcome.



“What is up with Snape?” Harry asked Padfoot. The dog glanced both ways to see if anyone else was around and transformed into the shaggy, unkempt form of his godfather.

“Well, that's a story filled with tragedy, horror, and coiffed hair,” Sirius told Harry and Hermione. “Are you sure you're ready for that?”

Both teens nodded seriously.

“Okay, but I warned you,” Sirius said as he pulled out a microphone. “Long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me cry.

“Hey! You're just singing acapella! You're not hit by the spell!” Hermione pointed out as no music popped up.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a horrible singing voice?” Harry asked his godfather. “I don't mean to offend, but that's really bad.”

Sirius tossed him the microphone and shrugged. “Yeah, I could never really sing.”

“And I'm not sure I want to hear American Pie about Snape,” Hermione put in. “That ruins a pretty good song.”

“Okay, fine,” Sirius said as piano keys started up in the background before turning into a disco drum beat. “At first I was afraid, I was petrified.

“I saw you use your wand,” Hermione protested. “No, ruining Gloria either!”

“Okay, fine,” Sirius said, flicking his wand and canceling the background music. “I was feeling left out of all the prank song and dance.”

“That song and dance can make them sing and dance so much they spontaneously combust,” Hermione pointed out, having heard the story of the dancing demon (and the Scooby Gang's greatest hits) in the past.

“Okay, okay,” Sirius said, leaning against the wall. He moved his shoulders a bit to get settled in. “This is the story, about a boy named Snivvy,” he paused, waiting for some objection from Hermione.

“Go on,” she said waving for him to continue. “You can't possibly make the Brady Bunch song worse than it already is.”

Who was in love with a very lovely girl,” Sirius continued, much to the surprise of the two teens.
And Pup, you should know that she
was your mother,
Back before she had you.”


Harry blanched as he discovered that Snape once had been in love with his mother.

Here's the story,
Of a girl named Lily,
Who was busy with studies of her own.
They were best friends,
From childhood, but then they grew up.”


Till the one day when the lady saw this fellow,
And said 'Snape, you've got a very lovely voice.'


Hermione raised an eyebrow at that bit of information.

To impress, He
formed a boy band.
That's the way he started up the Hob-gob-lins!”
“The Hobgoblins,”
Sirius sang, dancing about the room, shaking his booty in a way that should not be repeated until he got some meat on his bones. “The Hobgoblins. But still a crap group cuz it had Snape!”

“Ignoring the fact that the last few lines don't fit the original Brady Bunch song's meter,” Hermione said, “what the hell?”

“But wasn't the lead singer of the Hobgoblins that Stubby Boardman guy?” Harry asked, remembering the naked guy wearing the placard that showed up gagged and bound on the front step. He'd looked the guy up in “History of Magic” after the guy's name stuck in his head.

“He was the second lead singer who took over when Snape left,” Sirius explained. “Fame was too big for Snivvy, so he turned to potions and stopped coiffing his hair, letting it get greasy again. Even got a nose job.”

“Damn, he must have had a really bad surgeon,” Hermione commented, thinking of the large hooked schnoz in the middle of Snape's face.

“No, actually he got exactly what he was looking for,” Sirius replied. “Honestly, it cut down the fangirls to pretty much just my cousin and a few other hangers on. So long as he didn't sing, most people didn't recognize him. I think this spell is the first time he's sung anything since he left the band.”

“Your cousin...?” Harry and Hermione asked.

“Narcissa Black,” Sirius explained.

“Draco Malfoy's mother?” Harry and Hermione screeched in horror.

“Well, not Draco Malfoy,” Sirius said with a smirk.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, crossing his arms and glaring at the evilly grinning animagus.

“Haven't you noticed how Draco doesn't really look like Lucius?” Sirius asked.

“Well, they've both got blond hair,” Hermione pointed out.

“But so does my cousin,” Sirius pointed out.

“So what are you saying?” Harry asked suspiciously. Realization apparently came to Hermione as she turned decidedly green.

“Draco combs his hair back, and I happen to know that Eileen Prince, Snape's mum, was as blonde as all the Prince family,” Sirius replied. “And for a random kid, Snape is very overprotective of Draky-waky, isn't it?”

“You can't be serious!” Harry exclaimed as he suddenly realized what was going on.

“Are you really going to give me an opening like that?” Sirius asked. “But yes, as I'm sure you've now guessed, there is no Draco Malfoy, but there is a Draco Snape.”

“I think I'm going to be sick,” Hermione said, holding a hand over her mouth.

“That's what I said,” Sirius replied. He turned to Harry and shrugged. “Your dad was sick.”

“What about my mum?” Harry asked, mentally blocking out the idea that Snape ever actually had sex and replacing the information with the assumption that it was a spell accident.

“Well, she said 'Oh Severus, I'm sure you'll be able to get a girlfriend now,'” Sirius answered in a falsetto to imitate Lily Evans. “Friendzone: population Snape.”

“No, about Snape getting your cousin pregnant,” Harry clarified.

“Your mum and Snivvy weren't really talking at that point, since it was the height of the war and they were on opposite sides and all that,” Sirius replied. He paused and looked up at the ceiling in thought. “Come to think of it, I don't know that we ever told her. She did have all his albums though.”

“So why's your cousin a Malfoy?” Hermione asked.

“Wandpoint wedding,” Sirius said. “Couldn't let 'Society' know that the Black Family's precious pureblood princess got knocked up by a halfblood, nope. So Narcissa was married off to some Death Eater like a business arrangement: Malfoy gets his 'heir' and the Blacks don't loose face.”

“So, to sum this all up,” Harry said, glancing back at their bedroom where Snape was hiding under the bed. “Are you saying that Snape was some sort of magical Justin Bieber?”

“I would have said David Cassidy, but sure, that works too,” Sirius replied.

“Wow,” Harry said. “And I was sure I couldn't hate Snape more.”



Author's Blatherings and Disclaimers: Sorry this took so long to write. It took some time to find the right songs and to rewrite them to fit.
I don't own "Music of the Night" from Phantom of the Opera (Original Cast), Andrew Lloyd Webber does. I don't own "Maria" from Sound of Music. I don't own "Every Breath You Take," 'cuz that's the Police. I don't own Cyber Goth Dance Queens, though I know a few (more like cyber goth dance countesses, since they're not famous but quite talented). I don't own "Over At the Frankenstein Place" from Rocky Horror. I most certainly don't own "You're the One that I want" from Grease. As much as I like the song, I don't own "I've Got A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts." And I don't own "American Pie," "I will Survive" or "the Brady Bunch theme."

There. *Whew*

Hopefully I'll have the next one ready much sooner. I already have some of the songs chosen. For example, Cornelius Fudge is the very model of a modern magic minister.

Thanks to the Caer Azkaban Yahoo group for help and advice as well as reviewing the unfinished article.

The End?

You have reached the end of "Are you sure this was a good idea?" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 21 Nov 13.

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