Snape's on a Plane!

It was summer vacation at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which meant that Harry Potter was suffering another painful, dull, and repressive three months in the house of three people who loathed every aspect of his existence. He suffered enormous psychological scars and abandonment issues from being brought up in a world of people who hated him, but thankfully we don't have to pay attention to that right now.

It was time for the annual Hogwarts Staff vacation, a yearly excursion for the world's foremost instructors of magic to kick back, relax, and not complain to the union about the unsafe working conditions at the school. Nothing keeps your mouth shut about giant snakes and spiders like three weeks in the Caribbean. It came out of the ponderous school budget, a mixture of government subsidies, tuition fees, various pieces of jewelry Dumbledore found in the Room of Requirement, and from the large pile of gold hidden in the dungeons that the semi-legendary Headmaster Wray had stolen from Gringotts four hundred years ago. His pension was in jeopardy over the 'Chamber Pot of Secrets' incident, and he considered it a little insurance in case his brother in the Ministry couldn't come through.

Professor Snape was packing twelve tubes of sunblock in his suitcase, a bathing suit he fully intended to never use, spare sets of black robes and undergarments, an embarrassing 'Witches Gone Wild' t-shirt Dumbledore insisted he bring every goddamn time, and a picture of James and Lily Potter where a small picture of Snape's face had been taped over James.

"Severus!" McGonagall yelled, lugging a suitcase by his door, "The portkey leaves in a few minutes! Wouldn't want to leave you behind."

"Yes." Snape said morosely, looking sadly at his beloved stone bedroom, Great Britain's ubiquitous fog giving life to small patches of moss and various varieties of mold. "We wouldn't want me to miss the unbearable heat and direct sunlight on my pasty skin, now would we? I don't want to be left out of the skin cancer, no siree."

"Well it's not like I care, Severus, it's just Dumbledore wants to be t-shirt buddies with you, and he'd never let me hear the end of it."

"Thank you, Minerva, you always know just what to say."

A few minutes later the entire staff was assembled in the Great Hall, all in various stages of casual clothing. Remus Lupin was there because Snape was the only guy he knew who could hook him up with cheap wolfs bane, and paying to go on vacation with him was worth it. Snape had donned a 'sombrero', a very wide, very black hat, which seemed to have the 'somber' part down, but was lacking in the 'ro' department. He also was wearing, very reluctantly, the Witches Gone Wild shirt, which appeared to be fifty years old and was covered in small reddish stains. The other teachers were wearing loose, comfortable clothes, wide hats and sunglasses, with the exception of Professor Dumbledore. Albus was wearing his WGW shirt, Hawaiian swim trunks, sandals, and a cowboy hat he had won in a claw game in Vegas.

"BOOYEAH!" He yelled, to the intense mortification of everyone in the room, "PAR-TY, PAR-TY, PAR-TY! Let's get this show on the road! Hagrid, my main man, how's that portkey comin'?"

Hagrid, who loathed these trips even more than Snape coughed nervously. Dumbledore had put him in charge of getting the group portkey this year, consistently ignoring his complaints that he wasn't allowed to do magic. "Uh, sir… About the portkey…"

"Yes?"

"You remember the time when I told you I couldn't get you a portkey?"

"You betcha!"

"Well…"

"Is there a problem?" Dumbledore asked, unfazedly happy.

"As it turns out, I couldn't get you a portkey."

The grin vanished. "Oh."

"Yes, you see, you need to use magic to make a portkey…. I can't do magic anymore…. Because I was framed for the Basilisk murders… So… I couldn't get you a portkey."

Dumbledore nodded. "Shit." He said, and then clapped his hands and started rubbing them together thought fully. "Mmm-hmmmmm…. Could you get us anything?"

"Well, I bought one off of Mr. Fletcher sir, but it only takes you to London."

Snape nodded curtly. "Well, that's that, we can't go on vacation, I'll just go unpa-"

"Nonsense! We can still get to the Bahamas! We'll just take the portkey to London, and take Muggle transport from there! Let's take an airplane!"

Everyone exchanged nervous glances. None of them had so much as seen a computer before, and Hagrid had some anxiety about being a twelve-foot tall man in a nine-foot tall metal tube for six hours.

"Oh come on!" Dumbledore said, grinning encouragingly, "It'll be fun! We just have to stay inconspicuous."


Fifteen minutes later, a dozen people in colorful robes and one giant with a bearskin suitcase materialized in the middle of the largest airport in the continent, all clutching a boot. The giant chucked the boot over his shoulder, and the whole group walked away whistling random little tunes. This was London, of course, so no one was particularly surprised.

"Alright everyone…" Dumbledore said conspiratorially, "We're in!"

Minerva looked back concernedly. "Shouldn't we get rid of that portkey, Albus? It's dangerous just leaving it lying around."

Dumbledore waved a hand dismissively. "I wouldn't worry about it."

A few seconds later they heard a little girl's voice saying, "Mommy, mommy! Look at this boot just lying on the ground! I wonder how it-" WHAP

Everyone looked at Dumbledore, who just shrugged and said, "Look, it's nothing to worry about. I'm sure-"

A frantic woman's voice started screaming, "My baby! My baby! Where is she? What happened to my baby!"

Dumbledore coughed nervously, "Look, it's not like anyone got hurt or anything."

"Oh my God! Oh my god! She was standing right here! Right here!"

"Okay, let's just get out of here before she remembers who's boot-"

The mother collapsed on the floor and started sobbing hysterically. McGonagall glared at Dumbledore, who sighed and went back to comfort the woman.

"Look, ma'am, it's fine, your daughter is perfectly safe."

"What! You know where Julia is?"

"Yes. She's in a magic academy in Scotland. Don't worry, it's completely safe, we've got a giant squid to protect her from sea monsters, we keep invisible bat-horses in the woods to scare away most animals, there's even a lonely old janitor who thinks he's married to his cat to watch over her. She's probably having the time of her life!"

"Is this a joke! Is this some sort of sick joke! What did you do with my little baby!"

Dumbledore realized he wasn't going to get anywhere with this woman down this route, so he did the only logical thing. He pulled out his wand and erased her memory.

"You don't have a daughter…" Dumbledore said slowly, waving his wand in little circles.

"I don't have a daughter…" The woman repeated, eyes following the little point of light.

"You didn't see anyone's boot…"

"I didn't see anyone's boot…"

"The Kinks were just as good as the Beatles…"

"Like hell they were!" The woman said, snapping out of her trance.

"Ha!" Professor Slughorn yelled, "I told you it wouldn't work!"

Dumbledore stuck his tongue out at him and quickly ran away from the dazed woman. "Well," he said, "That solves that problem!"

"Not really."

"Oh, shut up Minerva, don't be so negative. Nothing can possibly-" WHAP

"Mommy, look, I grabbed the boot again and came back! I'm back, mommy!"

"… Who are you?… Where am I?… Who was saying the Kinks were as good as the Beatles…?"

Dumbledore grinned nervously, trying to avoid McGonagall's glare. Eventually he caved in, mumbled he'd fix this, and walked back to the mother and daughter mumbling about 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds' being a terrible song.


Thirty minutes later they arrived at the security checkpoint, Dumbledore with a black eye and broken nose from the mother, and another black eye from the little girl, who knew damn well that Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band was an awesome album.

"What do you have against the Beatles anyways?" Lupin asked to break the silence.

"I was their original drummer. Those buggers left me in a ditch to hit the big time…"

"I thought that was Pete Best."

"Look, there was an accident with polyjuice potion and a TV dinner, and I basically grew up in Liverpool as Pete Best, okay?"

"…Weren't you already at Hogwarts by then?"

"There was also a Time Turner in a washing machine. What? It was Mardi Gras in Tijuana, and Voldemort and I were high on mari- Never mind. Okay everyone, remember to stick with your travel buddy!"

Snape ground his teeth as Lupin walked up next to him. "Let's just get this over with."

They were the first ones through the metal detector, and immediately set off the alarm. Snape looked around in irritation, searching for the source of that noise as a security agent asked him if he had any spare change in his pocket.

"No, as a matter of fact, I don't keep money on me, I'm afraid of getting mugged. That's why I always carry my carving knife. See?" Snape said, holding up the six-inch blade as Lupin buried his face in his hands and groaned.

Five minutes later they were in the airport security administrator's office, surrounded by twelve highly armed guards and one elderly security administrator who was now strongly considering retirement.

"Sir," He began, "Can you explain this knife?"

"Yes, and I already have. It's a carving knife I carry with me to keep me safe from muggers."

"On an airplane?"

"Yes."

"Twelve thousand feet up in a sealed metal tube, after a thorough examination of every passenger, you are afraid of getting mugged."

"Exactly."

"…Why?"

"Well, you people obviously don't do a good enough job of screening the passengers. This is supposed to be the government's responsibility, and I personally am very irritated at any organization that manages security in this fashion."

"So you're mad at the government?"

"Yes, indeed. I'd like to see it overthrown."

Lupin groaned and started squeezing his stress ball for all it was worth.

"…Right. And could you explain your…pot? Kettle?"

"For your information, that is a cauldron. I use it to concoct elixirs."

"Elixirs?"

"Potions, charms, various forms of magical fluids. Some of them knock you unconscious, some of them explode violently, some of them are so potent that if their vapors were released in an airtight environment of some sort, it would kill everyone in it."

"Okay… Sir, when our officers tried to give you a pat-down, you violently pushed them away?"

"Yes, sir. I didn't want them touching my wand."

"Your… wand."

"Yes. You know, eight inches long, made of wood, does magic."

"Magic?"

"Fantastical magic. You wouldn't believe the magic I can do with my wand."

"…Err…"

"Would you like me to demonstrate?"

'NO! Uh, I mean, no. Thank you, but, we, uh, need to move on to this… potion we found in your carry-on." The security agent held up a vial of Lupin's wolfsbane.

"That's not mine." Snape said quickly. "That's for my friend here, Mr. Lupin."

Lupin was humming very loudly to himself and was sticking his fingers in his ears with his eyes shut.

"I see… What exactly is it for?"

"Well, you see, Mr. Lupin has a certain… monthly problem."

"Monthly?"

"Yes. You know… Emotional, violent, snaps at little things, unpleasant to be around… Once a month…"

"… I'm not sure I follow…"

"It can be… Rather messy, you know… If you're not careful-"

"I think I've heard enough! You don't need to explain anymore! I get it!"

"You do?"

"…Yes… My wife gets the same way…"

"Oh." Snape said quietly, his tone compassionate, "I'm so sorry."

"Is there… anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"Well, I suppose you ought to know that earlier in my life I was associated with a certain…. Undesirable organization."

"Organization?"

"Well, it was more of a secret society. A cult really, if you must know. Secret rites, ritual murder, an obsession with immortality. We would strike out at key individuals and eliminate them… The goal was to be really… terrifying, you know?"

"You were a terrorist?"

"Yes! Exactly the word. Terrorist. Yes. Our master would murder people to divide his soul into multiple pieces and attach it to things like pendants, a goblet, even a snake."

"You've killed people?"

"Personally? Only a few. Don't worry though, I left as soon as the Dark Lord killed the woman I loved. Ah, Lily… Even though she was married to another man, I never gave up hope… That bastard James…"

The security agent nodded carefully, noticing a bulge in the vicinity of Snape's pocket. "Yes… What's that sticking out of your pants…"

"That? It's my wand."

"Oooooookaaaaaaay…. What terrorist organization were you in again?"

"The Death Eaters, sir."

"Right." The security administrator flipped through a list of terrorist organizations, reading the names to himself. "Al-Qaeda… Jihadists United… Hannah Montana… I'm sorry, sir, there's no 'Death Eaters' on the list."

"Well, obviously. We were one of the good terrorist organizations."

"Well, I can't book you unless you terror group is on the list. I have to let you go, but you need to fill out this form to register the Death Eaters."


Fifteen minutes later they were boarding the airplane, using tickets they had picked up from a nice man in the luggage department who knew about some secret seats on the only flight to the Bahamas.

"Why does it say 'luggage only' on the door?" Professor Slughorn asked as the made themselves comfortable on suitcases and golf bags.

"I dunno." Hagrid said, just relieved he wouldn't have to sit in those tiny little airplane seats. "I hope this is what first class feels like… How much did you pay for these seats?"

"I just gave him a bag of galleons. Fifteen pounds of solid gold seemed fair."

"Well, you get what you pay for."

Just then the door slammed shut, and the plane soon began to move. Nobody knew the wizards were stashed away in the cargo hold, but the pilot did notice they were several thousand pounds overweight (mostly Hagrid and Slughorn's fault). Unfortunately, there were no pets down there with them, so he didn't turn on the heater.

Several minutes later, Hagrid noticed it was getting colder when Snape started yelling, "Oh my God! It's goddamn freezing in here! We're gonna die!"

Dumbledore, in a rare moment of inspiration, pointed his finger at the ceiling and proclaimed, "Somebody needs to think of an idea!"

Professor Sprout had the inspiration to yell, "A warming charm! Quick, Albus get your wand! Everyone get your wands!"


Twelve hours later, the landing crew in Nassau airport received an anonymous tip that there might be twelve dead middle-aged people and one really big guy frozen in the belly of the 7:45 flight from London. Fearing the worst, they opened up the hatch, and found thirteen perfectly happy passengers stretching and yawning after a refreshing nap.

"But-but… I don't understand!" The landing crew headman stuttered, "That cargo hold was freezing! How did you guys survive?"

Snape shrugged. "Oh, I just kept myself warm with my wand."

And with that they set out for the hotel.