Disclaimer: No, we don't own Las Vegas. If we did, the place would be even more awesome ;). And, for that matter, we don't own Harry Potter- not that that's important to this HARRY POTTER BASED fanfic…

A/N: Eventual pairings will include AD/MM, SS/RH, and AM/PP, and then pre-established RL/NT and BW/FD. Maybe we'll even find someone for the twins- who knows? We sure as hell don't. This was a spur-of-the-moment idea, so if it seems random at first, that's why.

Chapter 1: An Idea

"Albus, I'm not entirely sure this is one of your greatest ideas," began Minerva wearily from where she stood in front of the Headmaster's desk.

The Headmaster was not, as would be assumed, behind it, but rather over by the window, looking quite jubilant even from behind. As he turned to face the witch behind him, cutting her off, he lifted a single finger.

"'Not entirely sure,' which goes to say that you are not certain. Forgive me, my dear, but even you can be wrong," he replied, eyes twinkling madly. She let out a heavy breath through her nose.

Fine then, no more Miss-Nice-Professor. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, this is quite possibly the stupidest, most ill-thought out plan you've ever conceived, and I refuse to be a part of it, as will everyone else with even an ounce of self respect and, more importantly, common sense!" Minerva fumed, feeling for a moment as if her insides were on fire before she calmed slightly, though still bristling.

Dumbledore looked a bit wounded. "I assure you, I've spent much time and thought on the subject-"

"Any of which could have been spent on far more productive things, I'm sure," Minerva cut in, rolling her eyes. He would not make her feel guilty, not this time.

"Minerva..." He crossed over to her in a few short strides and placed a hand on her upper arm. "Please. It will be fun, and you deserve a break. Everyone does." His voice was soft, and the look on his face expectant. She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes again. He was not going to walk all over her. It was her job to keep him and his insanity in place, something she'd begun to somewhat neglect over the years.

Still, who could resist that look? "Fine. I'll go if Severus does," she answered curtly, with a smirk. If she knew the overgrown bat at all, he'd never agree to this remarkably ridiculous plot. Albus, however, looked overjoyed, and for a moment she felt her face go ashen. Surely he had no way to make Snape agree. Certainly not.... Of course he doesn't! a sharp voice in her head snapped, He's just being his normal, optimistic-to-the-point-of-lunacy self.

"Are you quite all right, my dear?"

Severus Snape was slack-jawed and completely dumbfounded. In his defense, so were the other five people at the table- or at least the ones with any common sense. Hagrid looked slightly confused, Trelawney hadn't changed her expression from when she had wondered in by accident and had been invited to stay by Dumbledore, the daft fool, who had been on the receiving end of death glares from Minerva ever since. Minerva now looked grimly resigned to defeat. Next to Severus, Rolanda Hooch and Poppy Pomfrey had similar expressions, with the exception that Poppy looked truly confused, and Rolanda as if it were too good to be true, rather than too terrible.

Dumbledore was clearly off his rocker. The point was no longer debatable.

Snape cleared his throat silkily, and everyone seemed to come to, mostly wondering how someone could silkily clear their throat. Wasn't that strictly a gravelly noise?

"Headmaster, I'm afraid I will not be able to attend," he sneered, pushing back his chair before standing up. "I have much more important things to do than frolic around with Muggles in America." Minerva perked up considerably, and Albus frowned down at her.

"Like what?" Rolanda asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically. Snape opened his mouth.

"I-I....." He shut it again, cursing his ability to lie for failing him at such a critical time.

"That's right. Sit back down, bat-man." She grabbed a piece of his robes, which were billowing despite the absence of wind or any movement on his part at all, and tugged. Snape grabbed onto the top of the chair and laded hard in its seat, looking furious but not standing. Everyone looked amused, except for Minerva, who had slumped back down and was shooting furtive looks toward her wand, then Dumbledore, and back to her wand.

"Batman?" he muttered, glaring at her, albeit with a bit of curiosity.

"You know... because your robes billow out like bat's wings... Oh, don't look at me like that, it's what all the students call you!" retorted Hooch, rolling her yellow eyes dramatically.

"Whatever you say, Poochy-Hoochy," replied Snape, silkily and as cynically as possible. Rolanda shot him a look of pure, confused horror. "What? It's what all the students call you."

This time, it was Dumbledore who cleared his throat.

"I take it all of you are willing?" he asked, steepling his fingers as he sat at the head of the table.

"Anythin' fer you, 'Eadmaster, sir," answered Hagrid happily from the corner, as his legs were too tall to fit under the table. Rolanda nodded enthusiastically.

"I foresee good fortunes on this trip," spoke Trelawney sagely. Minerva snorted. "Yes, I think I shall join you."

Poppy seemed to be struggling with something. She opened and closed her mouth several times in a quick succession, and was twirling her pale wand in her hands.

"Spit it out, woman!" encouraged Hooch, elbowing her. Severus decided someone needed to lecture the Quidditch instructor on personal space, but decided to let it slide as Poppy stopped her stuttering, which was reminiscent of a certain possessed Defense teacher.

"Er, well, would it be....that is....may we bring anyone?" she finally blurted, blushing slightly. Snape saw Minerva arch an eyebrow at her.

"Of course!" clapped Dumbledore, looking pleased. "There are, of course, several others joining us- Remus Lupin, Nyphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Misers Fred and George Weasley, Sirius Black, Alastor Moody, Fleur Delacour, and Bill Weasley have all shown interest in coming." Albus glanced at Minerva, sitting beside him, as if to make sure he'd remembered everyone.

"Nicholas," she murmured, refusing to look at him and instead staring at the wall opposite.

"Ah, of course! And Nicholas Flamel."

Snape barely noticed him. From the first name announced, he had begun to grip the table, and that grip had tightened with almost every name onward, so that by the time Dumbledore finished his knuckles where white and his fingertips beginning to ache, and possibly absorb splinters from the table's wood.

Poppy was silent, but looked pleased.

"Severus?" Albus called. Snape glared back cooly. "Yes or no?"

"Really, I don't know where you would get the assumption that I'd enjoy spending a week of my summer around thousands, maybe millions, of Muggles-" he started, snarling. However, Rolanda found it necessary to interrupt again.

"Severus, really, are you thick? Las Vegas is one of the most heavily wizard-populated cities in America- do you honestly think Muggles do all those casino tricks?" she scoffed. He turned his glare to her instead.

"Well then, I don't see that I have choice," he said, enunciating each word clearly and speaking directly to Rolanda. Dumbledore beamed, and Minerva cursed under her breath.

"Wonderful! I'd like to book a hotel for next week, if no one has any objections." Everyone was silent. "Splendid! I will owl each of you the information as soon as I receive any." The professors all began to stand, and the sounds of chairs scraping flagstone dominated the room for a moment. "And from what I've heard, you may want to bring a swimsuit!" Dumbledore called after all of them.

Severus groaned along with Poppy and Minerva, who seemed equally troubled by the statement. This was going to be a long week.