Prologue: When All Goes Amazingly Right

Disclaimer: This frisky little farce is based on concepts and characters set forth in the "Harry Potter" novels by J.K. Rowling, who might very well freak out if she saw what we were doing with them. No one involved in this bold multinational venture makes any money off it, and at this point, we will consider ourselves lucky to escape a virtual stoning by the fandom at large.

Warning: You are unlikely to laugh hard enough to aspirate food during this chapter. We plan to change that shortly.

Prologue: When All Goes Amazingly Right

'Expecto Patronum!'

Every few yards along the path, a student was shouting the spell for conjuring a Patronus. The road to Hogwarts was filled with a remarkable menagerie of misty, silvery beasts, and Professor Lupin called laughingly over the din that they were welcome to practice, but he couldn't give anyone class credit for Patronuses summoned here. Those who heard him laughed right back and summoned another. After all, they had to do something with all their surplus happiness, considering they'd all just helped accomplish the downfall of Voldemort...for good, this time.

Overhead, a handful of people performed jubilant aerobatics on brooms...barrel rolls, dives and loops...their wands emitting multi-coloured sparks which left comet trails across the sky as they flew back and forth to stay level with those on foot below.

Harry was the focus of a lot of attention, but that fact rather escaped him. He was focused on... focusing. Getting new glasses for Harry would probably go down in history as the single most important contribution Hermione Granger made to the war effort. This would no doubt annoy her no end, considering the many vital roles she had played throughout the course of the conflict; but at the moment, Harry couldn't think of anything for which he was more grateful.

Of course, he'd had serious doubts about the glasses when he'd picked them up in Hogsmeade not thirty minutes earlier. They made the world seem to curve away oddly at the edges, rendering the process of putting the younger students safely on the Hogwarts Express pretty surreal. But being able to see Voldemort quite clearly about twenty minutes after that had made it worthwhile...intensely scary, but worthwhile. And that was in large part how, as of five minutes ago, Harry had found himself staring at a smoking pile of robes, marvelling at how the steam made pretty twists over the neat folds of fabric.

He didn't have much time to marvel at the sight as he was very nearly knocked off his feet by two guided missiles of redheaded exuberance.

"You did it, Harry!"

Harry scarcely had time to register Ron's congratulations (had his best friend's eyes always been that blue?) before he found himself with a mouthful of tongue not his own. Ah, that would be Ginny. That had better be Ginny...it took him a moment to de-fog his glasses and make a positive identification once she let him up for air...oh, good, it was.

Really, really, good, in fact. Wow. Had he noticed before how beautiful she actually was, he would have had a hell of a time concentrating on the whole winning the war thing.

"How did you do it?"

Harry looked in the direction of the question and tried not to flinch. Headmistress McGonagall had gotten awfully old at some point, especially when seen from this close.

"Perdonaro."

"I've never heard of that spell... But I recognize the word 'forgive.'"

"Yeah. It sort of hit me... I remembered something I was taught once." Harry looked over to where he had last seen Snape and caught the professor's eye for a moment. The expression on his gaunt face quite defied interpretation. Harry hoped that it meant Snape understood whom, exactly, he'd forgiven in order to channel that unbearably merciful energy through Riddle.

By the time McGonagall followed his gaze, Snape was hurrying off towards the castle, hunched under his cloak as if walking against a heavy rain. "Och, he'll go off and brood somewhere if I don't stop him." Minerva's tone was tight with exasperation, which she dropped briefly to beam at Harry. "Well done, lad," she said, giving him a quick kiss (thankfully, on the forehead) before she attempted to catch up with Snape.

And so it went as they walked back to the castle. Everyone was laughing, shouting, singing, or at least trying to sing, even those who were being floated back on stretchers due to injuries, and an absolutely inordinate number of people were kissing Harry. When Bulstrode pushed up to him and planted a scarily forceful kiss right on his mouth, following it up with what could only be described as a leer, he gladly allowed Ginny to pull him to safety between the floating stretchers that were carrying Fred and George.

"Afraid you'll lose your hero to Massive Millie?" Fred teased, propping himself up on his unbandaged elbow to take in Ginny's angry expression.

"No chance of that," Harry said with a shudder, edging closer to Ginny as he glanced nervously in the direction he'd last seen Bulstrode. Ginny anchored her arm even more securely around his waist, though her expression relaxed.

"Oh, I don't know... she has some pretty impressive features, wouldn't you say?" George asked, making a crude gesture at about chest level.

"Not nearly enough to overshadow her personality," Harry countered. For good measure, he leaned his head against Ginny's hair, hoping it would discourage any more would-be kissers.

After all, a peck on the cheek from sweet little Luna was one thing. A would-be snog from someone who could leer like Bulstrode was quite another matter.

Eventually, some tenacious soul would trace all that followed back to Professor Flitwick being hungry. Of course, a significant portion of the blame could be laid at Terry Boot's doorstep, shameful though it might seem to penalize him for rushing to the aid of his Head of House.

"Professor? Are you all right?"

Flitwick nodded, not having quite caught his breath, and allowed Mr. Boot to help him to his feet. "Just had the wind knocked out of me... why, thank you, dear boy. No more than a bruise or two. Hmm... and a bit of a welt there... perhaps I should have Poppy look at it in case it's something nastier than a Stinging Hex."

"Do you need anything for the pain, sir?"

"It's so minor I'd be embarrassed to ask. What I really fancy is something to eat, for some reason. Perhaps I can convince Minerva to have a re-welcoming feast for the younger students when they return," Filius joked.

Still, being a conscientious sort, Terry escorted him over to the mobile 'infirmary' where Madam Pomfrey was fussing over the all-too-walking wounded.

"Mr. Hopkins, will you please hold still! Believe me, you'll tire of those extra legs well before morning! And do lie quiet, Miss Jones. Your nose may not grow back quite right if you keep talking." Poppy spun around with a look like someone who was about to make an exasperated remark when she saw Filius and smoothed out her features into brisk professionalism again. "Filius, whatever have you done to yourself?"

"This welt wasn't self-inflicted, Poppy."

Terry decided to make good his escape before Madam Pomfrey could decide he needed checking over.

"Oi! Boot! Do you fancy kissing Harry as well?"

Even from one of the Weasley twins, this struck Terry as being a surpassingly strange thing to say. Though he almost slipped up and answered, 'You've obviously mistaken me for Finch-Fletchley,' which wouldn't be fair, really; he was pretty sure Justin wasn't out.

"Shut up, Fred," Harry muttered, turning remarkably red.

It was probably best to ignore all this. Being a prudent Ravenclaw, Terry did exactly that. "I was helping Professor Flitwick over to Madam Pomfrey."

"Is he all right?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, I think so...considering he was more worried about convincing Headmistress McGonagall to have a feast than he was about his injuries," Terry said with a laugh.

George grabbed the next passerby by the sleeve. "Did you hear? McGonagall's going to call for a feast back at the castle! All hail Harry the hero!"

"Stop it, George, you're embarrassing Harry!" Ginny hissed.

"Yeah, and a dance! The party to end all parties! Professor Flitwick said so!" Fred chimed in.

"You two are going to start rumours!" Harry protested...a little weakly, lest they start the hero thing again.

"Do you really think so?" Fred asked, trying to look innocent and failing miserably.

There was a shadow on Minerva's happiness at the stunning victory; an approximately Snape-sized shadow, to be precise. She hadn't been able to catch up to him before his long legs took him well out of reassurance range, and now she felt quite sure that he was well on his way to hiding himself somewhere and wallowing in guilt. Unjustified guilt, to her mind...after all he had done to ensure that they were all safe...

Minerva almost said something very unprofessional as she realized they hadn't quite ensured that everyone was, in fact, safe.

"Aurora! Septima! A moment, please?" The Astronomy and Arithmancy professors were deep in conversation, walking almost hand-in-hand. McGonagall suppressed an oft-recycled urge to wonder at the exact nature of their friendship and instead briskly outlined her concerns. "I know it seems unlikely, given that the Death Eaters here were all either killed or incapacitated when Vol...Riddle...died, but I think it would be best to check on the people still in Hogsmeade. Your Patronus is a swan, is it not, Aurora?"

"A black swan, actually... and Septima's is a penguin," Sinistra said, seeing where this was going. "One of us will be sure to send one to the castle, if there are any problems."

"I would appreciate it if you would attend to it," Minerva said, relieved that was sorted. "Now, if only I could catch Severus before he decides to hold a pity party for himself!" She bustled away again, tutting and scanning for him with keen eyes, to no avail.

"Professor Flitwick has been talking to Headmistress McGonagall, and there's to be a party as soon as we get back to the castle!"

"Yes, I heard her mention a party to Professors Vector and Sinistra!"

Hermione was hearing some disturbing rumours, and she thought it might be wise to take them to the Headmistress...duties as Head Girl and all. However, she wasn't able to track McGonagall down until they were at the very gates of the castle.

"Headmistress, is it true that there's going to be a feast? Or a ball?" she asked.

"Well, I imagine we'll have some sort of celebration once the younger students return, but as for tonight..." Minerva broke off, noticing for the first time the way the students were making their way towards the Great Hall, heedless of Professor Sprout's attempts to get their attention.

"Pomona, where did the children get the daft notion we're going to have a party?"

"I don't know, Minerva... but I don't fancy telling them otherwise," Sprout said, shaking her head at the yelling throng pushing its way into the Great Hall.

Author's Notes:

Prologue is courtesy of dracontia, with contributions by DawnEB, shalimar1981, lux_astraea, and Wonderfulchild, based on background developed by Aturia, DawnEB, dracontia, shalimar1981, and Wolfmoonshadow.

Please see our Bio page for a full listing of participating authors!