When Pigs Fly

The Dawning of the Arc

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office, lost in thought, as most renowned headmasters do. In his tired state, he reached across his desk, opening a small jar and taking out a lemon drop, popping it in his mouth. It was nearing midnight. Most everyone would be asleep at this time, aside from the random professor, busy grading papers into the night.

He sighed around the candy in his mouth, and was about to stand up and call it quits for the night when he felt it. He instantly looked out, all senses on alert, then looked down at his desk as everything around him began to shift. There was a change in the magical energy around him, with enough of an effect on the physical plane that it shook his desk, shifting trinkets left and right and leaving the portraits of former headmasters tilting from side to side, the painted professors swearing and yelling in fright. After a few seconds everything steadied, but Albus could not ignore the change in the magical atmosphere that he had felt. He needed to learn the cause.

While he was pondering the magical blast that had just occurred, outside his office, another muttered the password, frantic and out of breath, and entered.

Albus looked up at the guest. "Minerva. Good of you to come. I assume you are here to discuss the very same thing I felt?"

Minerva McGonagall stood by the entrance to the office, the stoic professor a mess, normally styled flat hair sticking out of her tight bun. She was breathing deeply, as if she had run all the way there. "You felt it too, Albus?"

At Albus' nod she continued. "We must-"

"Please take a seat, Minerva. No use hovering over by the doorway," Albus interrupted, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. Minerva paused, yet slowly found herself moving towards the closest chair and taking a seat.

"We must find the source of this as quickly as possible," she started once again, repeating her previous thoughts. "We are both aware of how difficult it is to affect the magical energy in the air. It only occurs-"

"When something has taken place that affects time or space, right you are, Minerva." Minerva, miffed at the second interruption, pursed her lips together as Albus smiled innocently at her, but his expression became serious as he began speaking again, quietly. "And you and I are aware of how terrible the effects can be to the present if the disturbance is not mended."

Minerva clenched her jaw, nodding with determination as she straightened. "I assume I should alert the rest of the faculty? Ask them to keep an eye out?"

"No," Albus answered. At Minerva's questioning glare, he explained. "The ones that are awake currently will be alert and watching for the source. That should be plenty. The others we can inform once we figure out what the issue is. No need to cause panic so suddenly." Albus waved Minerva out of his office, dismissing her with finality. "You know what you must do."

"Personally, I believe this is important enough to need to inform everyone of this," Minerva muttered as she rose, leaving the office while straightening out her hair, pressing it into her bun. Albus watched her exit.

"And that is precisely why I wish to let them be ignorant a little while longer," Albus confided quietly, the room frozen and empty around him.

A week later, Severus found himself in the Great Hall, finishing up his small dinner as the other Slytherins ignored him, the spots surrounding him empty. He scraped his plate clean, and after debating whether to take more food or not, decided against, standing up and heading towards the doors, ready to head to the dungeons for the night. He stopped in his tracks, however, when he heard a familiar, unmistakable voice calling his name.