Slytherins, Kisses and Other Disasters
Copyright© 2026 by Caroline Stanton
Chapter 56: Strange Times at Hogwarts
Professor Minerva McGonagall had taught at Hogwarts for nearly forty years, and she had long since accepted that the school was an inexhaustible source of surprises. She had witnessed students turn one another into ferrets, accidentally summon thunderstorms indoors, brew potions that dissolved their own shoes, and attempt to charm their examination papers into supplying the correct answers. She had even survived several years of teaching James Potter and Sirius Black. Yet she was beginning to suspect that the current generation might surpass them all.
Not in mischief, necessarily. In sheer unpredictability. She was sitting in her office on a chilly November afternoon, examining a sheet of parchment, when Professor Filius Flitwick arrived. He was carrying a small wooden box.
“Minerva! You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, Filius. Please, come in.”
He climbed onto the chair opposite her desk and placed the box beside him.
“Is this about the music?”
“Among other things.”
Flitwick beamed.
“Splendid! I’ve been examining young Selwyn’s modifications. Quite ingenious, really.”
McGonagall raised an eyebrow.
“Indeed?”
“Oh, yes. A very clever combination of electrical isolation charms and a modified power enchantment. His original work was somewhat untidy, but the principle is sound. Miss Granger has helped him improve it considerably.”
“Naturally.”
“And the decorative effects are fascinating. The spell appears to respond not merely to volume and rhythm, but to certain harmonic patterns.”
McGonagall looked at him.
“Filius.”
“Yes?”
“Are you telling me that the stars dance?”
Flitwick smiled delightedly.
“In a manner of speaking, yes!”
McGonagall removed her spectacles.
“Of course they do.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Enter,” McGonagall called.
Severus Snape stepped inside. He glanced at Flitwick, then at the box on the desk.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Not at all, Severus. Please sit down.”
Snape regarded the empty chair as though it had personally offended him. Then he sat.
“I assume this concerns the increasingly intolerable noise coming from the fourth floor.”
McGonagall folded her hands.
“Partly.”
“Excellent. I was beginning to wonder whether anyone intended to address it.”
“We have addressed it.”
“Then I look forward to the silence.”
Flitwick smiled.
“Actually, Severus, we’ve arranged a more suitable room.”
Snape stared at him.
“A more suitable room?”
“Yes. Better acoustics, proper soundproofing, and enough space for the students to dance safely.”
Snape turned slowly towards McGonagall.
“You are encouraging this?”
“I am permitting it under supervision.”
“Ah.”
His voice acquired a particularly dangerous softness.
“So Potter’s latest distraction has been granted official recognition.”
McGonagall’s expression remained composed.
“Mr Potter did not set out to establish a dance club.”
“How reassuring.”
“He wished to spend an afternoon with his girlfriend.”
Snape’s lip curled.
“Miss Crabbe.”
“Yes.”
“The same Miss Crabbe who, until recently, spent a considerable portion of her time intimidating younger students?”
“The very same.”
“And now she is organising social gatherings with Potter.”
“She is attending them, Severus.”
“An important distinction, I’m sure.”
Flitwick looked between them.
“Actually, I think it’s rather sweet.”
Snape closed his eyes briefly. McGonagall opened a folder.
“Let us consider what has happened over the past few weeks.”
Snape leaned back.
“I suspect I shall regret this.”
“Harry Potter is dating Victoria Crabbe. Georgina Goyle is dating Adrian Selwyn. Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson appear to be developing an attachment. Students from all four Houses are attending informal dances together, listening to Muggle music, and—most remarkably—getting along.”
Flitwick nodded enthusiastically.
“Quite extraordinary!”
Snape regarded her.
“You have omitted the part where Potter is involved.”
“I mentioned that first.”
“Then I suggest we consider it the probable cause of the disorder.”
McGonagall gave him a stern look.
“Severus.”
“What?”
“Would you prefer that the students continue their customary hostilities?”
“I would prefer that they concentrate on their studies.”
“One does not exclude the other.”
“In my experience, Potter has considerable difficulty concentrating on either.”
Flitwick chuckled. McGonagall ignored the remark.
“The fact remains that something unusual is happening.”
Snape’s expression became more serious.
“Unusual does not necessarily mean beneficial.”
“No,” she agreed. “But neither does it necessarily mean dangerous.”
Flitwick opened his wooden box. Inside lay a small collection of wires, a compact disc, and several tiny enchanted components.
“I’ve been studying this fascinating Muggle technology,” he explained.
Snape looked at the contents.
“Why?”
“Because the students have discovered something that interests them.”
“An alarming development.”
Flitwick smiled.
“Severus, you teach Potions. Surely you understand the value of curiosity.”
“I understand the value of controlled experimentation.”
“Precisely!”
Snape looked irritated.
“That was not an invitation to agree with me.”
Flitwick continued undeterred.
“Young Selwyn has become quite enthusiastic about Muggle music. He’s even learning to play the electric guitar.”
McGonagall looked interested.
“Is he?”
“Oh, yes. I heard him practising near the grounds yesterday.”
“Was he any good?”
Flitwick hesitated.
“Not yet.”
Snape’s expression suggested that his opinion of the enterprise had just been confirmed.
“But he’s improving,” Flitwick added quickly. “And that’s rather the point, isn’t it?”
McGonagall nodded.
“Indeed.”
Flitwick closed the box.
“He’s learning something because he wants to, rather than because an examination requires it. I find that encouraging.”
“An admirable principle. Perhaps we should replace the Potions curriculum with guitar lessons.”
“Don’t tempt me, Severus.”
McGonagall almost smiled. For a moment, the conversation fell quiet. Outside, the wind rattled gently against the windows. McGonagall looked towards the grounds.
“There is something else.”
Snape watched her.
“I assumed there would be.”
“These are not ordinary times.”
Neither man replied. They all knew what she meant. The war was no longer a rumour or a distant possibility. Voldemort had returned, the Ministry had finally acknowledged it, and families throughout Britain were beginning to feel the consequences. Some of their students had relatives in the Order of the Phoenix. Others had relatives among the Death Eaters. And several were caught between loyalties they had never been allowed to choose. McGonagall turned back.
“These children are growing up in a world that seems determined to divide them.”
Snape’s expression remained unreadable.
“That has always been the case.”
“Perhaps. But the divisions are becoming dangerous.”
Flitwick nodded slowly.
“I’ve noticed it too.”
McGonagall continued.
“Yet for an hour or two, they forget those divisions. Gryffindors dance with Slytherins. Ravenclaws laugh with Hufflepuffs. They argue about which Muggle band is better rather than which family is superior.”
Snape looked towards the window.
“An argument about music is hardly a cure for generations of prejudice.”
“No,” McGonagall agreed. “But it is a beginning.”
Flitwick folded his hands.
“I spoke to Miss Lovegood yesterday.”
Snape raised an eyebrow.
“Should I be concerned?”
“Not particularly. She was asking whether the enchanted stars could be persuaded to form representations of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.”
“Of course she was.”
“I told her I wasn’t entirely certain what one looked like.”
“A sensible answer,” Snape observed.
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