Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Notes: A bit different, but I hope you like it. XD
Minerva McGonagall put her head in her hands and groaned as the Transfiguration professor walked out of her office. That had been the third teacher to quit so far that morning.
The Professors weren't stupid. They all knew what was coming, and they were all afraid. Minerva couldn't blame them. She had nearly handed her notice in seven times over the year, but decided that she would have to be strong for the rest of the staff and students.
The coming year would be the hardest, most challenging and possible most dangerous year any of them had ever faced before in their teaching careers.
They had all been lulled into a false sense of security. They assured each other that the day that this wouldn't happen for a long, long time.
They were wrong. That day was coming, much sooner than any of them had anticipated.
Minerva had purposefully not said a word, in the hope that the teachers would not figure it out until it was too late to hand their notice in for the following year. Someone had obviously figured it out and the realisation of the horror that would be unleashed on the school had swept through the staff like wildfire. They had all gone into panic mode. None of them wanted to witness the fallout.
Professor Filius Flitwick was the longest serving teacher at Hogwarts, except for Minerva McGonagall. He had been the Charms Professor for the last seventy years. He had been Head of Ravenclaw for the last fifty and Deputy Headmaster for the last seventeen. He had lived through both of the Voldemort wars. He was a duelling champion.
He nervously gave the password to the gargoyle guarding the Headmistress's office, notice in hand, and started walking up the stone steps.
Even he wasn't prepared for what was in store.
Severus swept through the dungeon with the firm knowledge that he was indeed emulating the bat that most of the students, past and present, had called him. And he didn't care, either.
He almost ran into his rooms and across into his bedroom. He was going so fast that he didn't notice the person sitting on his sofa until said person chuckled. Severus spun round and fixed the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor with a sneer.
"Instead of sitting on my sofa, drinking my best Brandy, you could be packing!" Severus snarled.
"Whatever for, Severus?" asked Harry calmly, raising his eyebrows as he took another sip from the glass of brandy.
"Do you have any idea what atrocities will be occurring next year?" Severus asked in disbelief.
"I have no idea what you are talking about Severus," said Harry mildly. He finished his brandy and put the empty glass on the table. "It can't be that bad. Surely you must be exaggerating."
"Exaggerating?" Severus looked at Harry like he had just stated that Lord Voldemort was just a seriously misunderstood man.
Harry stood up, picking his glass up from the table and walking over to the sideboard with it. "It wouldn't be the first time," Harry snorted. He poured himself another drink as well as one for Severus.
"Oh by all means, help yourself to yet more of my Brandy, while I rush myself about and panic," Severus snarled.
Harry threw him a look. "The second one's for you, you git." He picked the glasses up and walked over to the normally stoic Potions Master. "Don't get shirty with me."
Severus took the drink. "I am not getting shirty." He turned to go to his bedroom, but changed his mind and tuned back. "And you cannot just go around offering me my own Brandy," he added. He turned again to go to his bedroom and, once again, turned back before he had gone more than two steps. "And you know very well why I am packing and why I'm handing my notice in..."
"You haven't done it yet?" Harry looked surprised. "I thought you would have by now."
"No one told me," Severus spat. "Even you didn't tell me! How could you..."
"Everyone else decided not to tell you because you have been known to hex the messenger," Harry said mildly.
Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry. "So why is it that you decided not to tell me?" he demanded.
Harry shrugged. "Kicks?"
Severus gaped at the man, mouthing soundlessly. When he finally got his voice back, he hissed, "They are the embodiment of pure evil. They are put on this Earth to torment-"
"Severus!" Harry said sharply. "I will not stand here and listen to you insult my family like that!"
"Then sit down," Severus snapped. "Thirteen Weasleys," he moaned, collapsing into his seat. "We only just coped with the four that we had this year. There are nine Weasley first years next year. Nine! Those damn Weasleys breed like rabbits."
"Don't you 'now Severus' me, Potter," Severus snarled. "You will listen. I think you have a blind spot where the Weasley children are concerned. You just don't see them like the rest of us do. Read my lips: they are evil demon children. They are a complete nightmare! The entire staff is terrified of what will happen. One Weasley is too many. Two is like a bad dream you can't wake up from. The school barely survived five from your generation. This is a whole new generation, and there will be thirteen Weasleys in this school." Severus closed his eyes, a look of horror passing across his face. "It won't be a school; It will be a zoo!"
Harry finished his drink calmly and looked over at the Potions Professor with a grin. "I know," he said. "Why do you think I handed in my resignation two months ago?"