Belonging

Fake Murder, Real Revenge -Filius Flitwick-

-Filius Flitwick-

Saturday Afternoon

Filius' annual murder mystery party was the best event the staff got to participate in all year, if he was not too bold to say. He knew it was great fun! Even if certain party poopers would prefer to be contrarian about it. This year, he was finally going to be able to take revenge against his biggest scrooge.

Severus Snape had missed Filius' party multiple times over the years, lied, switched patrol duties with other teachers, even faked illness, all to avoid coming to Filius' grand murder mystery soirées. Filius had long since had enough, and this year he was going to make sure Severus knew he was being punished for being a curmudgeon in the past.

This year he had secured the all important R.S.V.P. of one Madelyn Watson. Yes, it had been obtained partially as a "punishment" for her hexing a student into a near death experience, but she was a good student. He knew she could be counted on to come.

Unlike her antisocial husband, who had forced Filius to rewrite his genius murder plot scripts three years running. With Madelyn's hand's tied into coming that meant she was sure to drag her mate along behind her and then Filius could inflict sweet revenge.

Filius knew that Severus Snape, for all his control, and his manifold buttons between himself and the world, wanted only one thing just now, and that was time with his new beloved. Snape was so eager to spend his minutes with her, and would of course, be extra annoyed that the first Saturday afternoon he could spend alone with his mate was to be spent instead with the company of others. Forcing Snape to share her was only one of the punishments he would be inflicting.

Flitwick had a scan of the room, then checked his time table. Everything was going according to plan. He had just transfigured Minnie and Poppy into their roles for the evening. Minerva was fussing with her costume as per usual. "Really Filius I think this neckline could come up a lot more," she yanked on the cups of the dress, but they would not grow by magic. Well, not by hers.

"Dearest, it is merely one inch of cleavage. You look so ravishing in plum... it would be nice to have you looking like this for a few hours." Poppy crooned into her mate's ear, trying to coax her hands away from covering the small cleft of her ample bosom that Filius' costume design revealed.

"Filius, please! This is unbecoming of a woman of my age! I look like mutton dressed as lamb," Minerva groused at him.

"Minerva you aren't you , you are Miranda Pritchard editor of the Witch Review. please stop fussing and go have a cocktail," Filius shooed them into the party.

"What on earth is a cocktail? I don't think I should like it," Minerva fought.

"The libation is one you will enjoy, go. Chat. Relax ." He pushed them toward Albus, dressed as Minister of Magic, who was normally an elderly wizard in lilac but was currently wearing a velvet tuxedo jacket, and his beard had been transfigured into a spritely goatee for the occasion.

Filius had only a few minutes before his last guests arrived to be transfigured. He had one last look around the room to check on all his incantations so far. Every year Filius held this party, and every year he pushed himself a little further. To see how much magic he could do over the course of the event. How much could he alter the shape of the room, the looks of the people. How many illusions could he keep up without breaking his mental will? He had a suspicion that he had rather more magic than he ought to.

It was after Ferdinand had passed that he noted this ability. This seemingly endless well of magic he could draw on. As if he had inherited Ferdinand's magic when he died like an object in a will. It was his annual tradition to stretch it. He never felt closer to having Ferdinand back than when he was using absolutely all of his abilities at once. This year he was going all out.