Hello and Feast of Fools (nest_of_spiders Day 01)
Hullo.
Why look, the school holidays have begun and I have returned, just in time to get all excited about various seasonal challenges (nest_of_spiders and wellymuck! Awesome).
Apologies for my long absence. It's been a very busy term for me. I'm now two-thirds of the way through my teaching qualification, though, sadly, I'm turning out to be Not Very Good at teaching. I also split up with my boyfriend just before Christmas and although it was the right thing to do, and I don't regret it, I'm finding it strange to only to be responsible for myself. Not altogether coincidentally, my friendship!romance muse has been on hiatus, both for fanfic and original writing. For this reason I probably won't be doing much with wellymuck but I am hoping to have a go at the first few weeks of nest_of_spiders, at least until term starts again and I run out of time to update.
How's everyone been for the last few months?
And on to the fic...
Title: A Feast of Fools (1/14)
Date: 1972
Pairing: Ted/Andromeda (eventually)
Rating: PG for swearing
Prompt: A joke's a very serious thing
Disclaimer: If you recognise it from the books, it's not really mine to play with.
Notes: Because Albus Dumbledore is as mad as he is wise.
1
Every time she glanced at the high table, Andromeda's appetite decreased a little more. The first of April was never a happy day for Slytherin House, but the trouble usually came from the Prewetts at the Gryffindor table, not the outwardly benign figure who was twinkling down at the entire hall.
“Finally dieting, Head Girl, dearest?” Lucius Malfoy inquired sweetly.
“Look at him,” Andromeda hissed back, ignoring the jibe. “He's up to something.”
Malfoy yawned, but turned his head to see where she was looking. “The old coot probably has wind.”
“He's twinkling,” Andromeda muttered back. “And his beard's quivering. We're fucked.”
Lucius' spoonful of porridge stopped halfway to his mouth as he regarded her incredulously. “How much thought have you put into this, Andromeda?”
“Wouldn't you, in my shoes?” Andromeda muttered, shooting another glance at Dumbledore.
Lucius' lips thinned and he put his spoon down with a decisive click. “I would not presume to speculate on the concerns of our marvellous leaders, dear Andromeda.” He slid off his seat with an elegant flick of his robes and stalked along the table to deposit himself beside Andromeda's younger sister.
Andromeda rolled her eyes. Did the man never forgive a grudge?
“Which snit was that?” Ianthe Greengrass asked, leaning forward.
“Head boy one,” Andromeda answered with a sigh.
“Can't really blame him for that,” Ianthe said with a sniff. “I mean, really!”
“Tonks is moderately competent for a Gryffindor,” Andromeda said mildly and began to cut her sausages into slightly smaller pieces in the hope of making them look more appetising.
She had managed to finish them by the time Dumbledore tapped his fork against the side of the milk jug. The hall fell silent as everyone turned to look at him in anticipation.
“Good morning,” he said, beaming down on them, “and Happy New Month to each and every one of you. As many of you may be aware, today is the Feast of All Fools, so it struck me as appropriate to announce our plans for the last two weeks of this term. For the next fortnight we shall be celebrating the ancient custom of the Feast of Fools. All shall be made equal. All house common rooms have been made open to all students-”
What!?
“-you may attend any lessons you desire, or none at all-”
That got a cheer from the Gryffindor table and a collective twitch from the Ravenclaws.
“-all school rules have been suspended, though I am sorry to tell you Mr Filch has taken a period of leave, so he is unable to share in your general delight. I only ask that you not break any of the laws of the land-”
Andromeda stared along her table of juvenile potion-brewers and hex-hurlers in horror. She sought Lucius' eye and was glad to see he looked as terrified as she felt. He mouthed an apology at her.
“-and of course your new dormitory arrangements are to be found on the lists at the back of the hall!”
That provoked a storm of shouting, particularly from the older students. Andromeda shot to her feet, grabbing at the edge of the table for balance.
Dumbledore waited for the clamour to die down, still twinkling. When at last silence fell, only one other person was left standing.
Ted Tonks glanced at Andromeda, and she shrugged slightly. She was still trying to phrase her protests. Ted nodded and turned towards the high table.
“Sir, he said politely. “This is an April Fool's joke, isn't it?”
Dumbledore smiled down at him. “Not at all, Mr Tonks. A mere day of misrule is not enough at all.”
“But why?” Andromeda blurted out and then scolded herself. There were more eloquent ways to appeal for mercy.
“Because, Miss Black,” Dumbledore said gently, “a joke is a very serious thing. Now, I believe it is time for a change!” He tapped his wand against the milk jug, and Andromeda, along with everyone else, found herself walking away from her seat. In the scrum, it was all she could do not to get squashed, although she managed to bare her teeth at her cousin Sirius as he trotted past and shouted, “No lessons! This is the best day ever!”
Minutes later, she found herself sitting at the Ravenclaw table, missing her hair ribbon and feeling distinctly battered. Someone else's abandoned breakfast sat in front of her, smeared with strawberry jam.
Ted Tonks backed into the bench opposite with a yelp, flailing as his legs turned him round and sat him down firmly. His elbow landed in the butter dish and he dropped his head after it with a heartfelt groan.
“I hardly think that's going to help,” Andromeda snapped and dug out her wand to spell the plate clean. Now the worst had happened she was beginning to feel hungry.
He lifted his head to glare at her. “Black. Wonderful.”
“I'm not happy about it, either,” Andromeda snapped. It was bad enough that she had to work with him. Having to watch him eat was beyond all fairness.
“Dumbledore has finally gone completely and utterly bonkers, hasn't he?” Tonks said, wiping his buttery elbow on his robes.
“For the first and possibly only time in my life,” Andromeda said, pouring herself some pumpkin juice, “I find myself in complete agreement with you.”
“Bloody hell,” Tonks muttered, reaching for a piece of toast. “The world really has turned upside down.”
Over at the Hufflepuff table, Dumbledore clapped his hands in the air, making the little Pettigrew boy at his side jump inches off the bench.
“Take your time over breakfast everyone! For myself, I think I'm going to enjoy a quick game of Quidditch this morning, should anyone care to join me. I was quite the Keeper in my day, you know.”
Andromeda covered her eyes and hoped desperately that this was all a terrible dream.