Spending my time.
Not making a dime.
It's all Jo's;
Just so you know...

One shot: Beta-ed by somigliana


The Joys of Apparition

Spring term started, and the annual notices for Apparition lessons for sixth and seventh year students sprang up on the school and House boards.

The staff room was abuzz.

"Please, may I please just do it this year?" Madam Hooch begged.

"Sorry, Heads of Houses only," McGonagall remarked, while Flitwick grinned.

"What's the big fuss about?" asked Quirrell. It was his first year at Hogwarts, having graduated from Beauxbatons where Apparition studies were conducted differently.

"It makes up for all those late nights..." Sprout sighed.

"Sick students, " Snape recounted.

"Homesick students," Flitwick added.

"Gobstones gone bad," pitched in Sprout.

"Fights over chairs and places by the fireplace."


"Students who won't snitch no matter who's on fire."

"Hexes gone wrong."

"Duels in the hallways."

"Shoves off the Astronomy Tower."

"Forays into the Forbidden Forest."

"Forays into the kitchens at midnight."

"Forays into the staff room to steal test papers."

"Forays into the staff room to steal pastries."

"Forays into the Restricted Section."

"Food fights in the Great Hall."

"Clod fights in the greenhouses."

"Gobstones fights in the common rooms."

"Stolen laundry."

"Stolen homework."

"Stolen girlfriends." Snape scowled.





"Werewolves." Snape frowned.

"Werewolves?" Flitwick asked.

"Sorry, where were we?"


"Goody two-shoes."

"Two-faced goody two-shoes."

"Insufferable know-it-alls."

"Incurable know-nothings."

"Intolerable goof-offs"

"Can't do's."

"Won't do's."



"Oh, but at Apparition lessons..." Professor Sprout smiled.

"We have OUR turn," Flitwick chimed.

"It always starts with that worried look of terror..." Snape drawled.

"Everyone checking to see what his or her neighbour is doing. No one trusts the teacher. Mister Wilkie Twycross has been teaching this since Dumbledore was a lad. But no…." McGonagall chuckled.

"And they all scrunch up their faces..." Sprout recalled.

"Like they're all about to wet themselves," Flitwick added.

"I believe some have." Snape chuckled.

"Then they start trying. They spin, jump, fall down, slip, knock into
each other..."

"Wet themselves..." Snape and Flitwick interjected.

"Everything but actually follow the bloody directions."

"And THEN we have, witches and wizards, a SPLINCH!"

"And everybody screams!"

"Look! It's a leg! It's a hand! NO! IT'S A FLOATING HEAD!" Snape dramatized.

"And then someone wets himself!"

"Flitwick!" Sprout playfully slapped at him.

"So, it's the Heads of the Houses to the rescue! Surround the Victim! No innocent eyes should see what we do. And by the way, why is there only ONE victim at first? Who knows? Accio floating head! Save the Victim! Victim in one piece. Back to the coda and start again!" Minerva waved her hands as if conducting music.

"Next lesson, more splinches! Arms, torsos, legs, feet, fingers, ears, eyes..."

"Eww!" Hooch commented.

"Heads, scalps, the students are falling apart! Help, help!" Sprout laughed.

"Remember when Raven Woods splinched her teeth?" Flitwick asked.

"So did Rodney Adams," said Minerva, giggling.

"What about Jamie Wheelwright. He splinched his clothes," Sprout reminisced.

"I suspect he did that on purpose." Flitwick grinned.

"And what about Jannie Farmer? She left bits and pieces of herself all over the place."

"What a job that was! And what about when Henry Abbot, Gaylord Zamini and Fred Fredricks went to the same destination point?"

Snape grinned. "That was a glorious mess."

"And what about when...remember David Dickenson..." Flitwick slyly started.

"I couldn't believe it!" McGonagall chortled.

"The poor boy! No wonder he moved to Canada after school." Sprout giggled.

"That was the silliest..." Snape snorted.

"Even Twycross was speechless." Flitwick laughed.

"Oh, the screaming!" McGonagall shrieked.

"How DID we ever put him back together!" Sprout exploded.

Snape threw his head back and laughed. Sprout was laughing so hard she rolled off her chair. McGonagall 's chair fell backwards, her feet waving in the air. Flitwick got down on the floor and was whacking it with his hand, laughing. The other staff members joined in the laughter, but not Quirrell.

"What, what did David Dickenson do?" he begged.

"Dickenson splinched..." Snape started, wiping his eyes. His colleagues watched him with suppressed breath, except for Flitwick, who was hiccupping. All eyes were brimming with mirth and expectation.

"Dickenson splinched..." Snape looked at Quirrell and leered at him, motioning him closer. "Dickenson splinched...his shoelaces!"

And with that, everyone but Quirrell started laughing again.