When the Clock Shattered

The walk to Dumbledore’s office was… eventful, to say the least.

The dimly lit corridors echoed with footsteps and voices—some talking calmly, some bickering, and one in particular grumbling under his breath about “utter lunatics.”

“I still think cinnamon toothpaste is objectively better,” Draco stated, arms folded as he walked just slightly ahead of Harry.

Harry scoffed dramatically, looking at him like Draco had just suggested tea without sugar. “That’s because your tongue is defective, Malfoy. Mint is literally the standard.”

“It burns, Potter,” Draco hissed. “It’s like I brushed with acid.”

“Maybe your mouth is just as sensitive as your ego.”

Ron, walking just behind them with Blaise, rolled his eyes. “Here they go again.”

Blaise lazily nodded. “Honestly, I’m starting to think they bicker so much to avoid confessing their feelings.”

“Oi, not our fault they’ve got the emotional range of a teaspoon,” Ron added, smirking as Draco and Harry both turned sharply.

“We are NOT—” they began in perfect unison, then stopped, flushed bright red, and glared at each other.

Meanwhile, completely ignoring them, Lily was walking side by side with Hermione.

“Have you read Pride and Prejudice yet?” Lily asked, her green eyes lighting up.

Hermione gave her a knowing smile. “At least a dozen times. Mr. Darcy is a masterpiece of slow-burn attraction.”

Lily giggled. “Exactly! Honestly, muggle literature is criminally underrated here. I once tried to get Marlene to read Little Women—she called it ‘emotional fluff’ and threw it across the dorm.”

Hermione gasped. “Blasphemy!”

“I know, right?” Lily replied, delighted. “So... Team Laurie or Team Friedrich?”

“Oh, Team Laurie. All the way.”

Behind them, Pansy had wandered closer to Severus, who was clutching a thick potion tome with a sort of reverent obsession.

“That one,” she said, pointing to a page filled with violet diagrams, “is that a variant of the Draught of Living Death?”

Severus blinked in surprise. “Yes… one that utilizes moonstone in a powdered base instead of infused crystal. You have a sharp eye.”

Pansy smiled, clearly pleased. “I was top of Potions back in our time. Tied with Hermione, actually.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I’d enjoy discussing this more… if I weren’t constantly trying to ignore those two idiots.”

Draco and Harry had now devolved into an argument over whether brushing teeth in the morning or at night was more crucial, using words like “hygiene criminal” and “oral tyrant.”

Severus muttered under his breath, “It’s like Lucius Malfoy and James Potter had twins just to torment me.”

Finally, they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore’s office. With a muttered “Fizzing Whizzbee,” the statue leapt aside and the spiral staircase creaked into motion.

---

Inside the office, bathed in the glow of swirling candles and eccentric instruments humming with quiet magic, stood Albus Dumbledore… and Professor McGonagall, arms crossed, mouth set in a line that screamed suspicion.