Post by jazzyjess on Apr 24, 2012 20:04:26 GMT -8
Title: Hogwarts (2 of 2)
Rating: G
Word count: 600
Crossover: Cabin Pressure
Summary: Our favourite Cabin Crew (minus one lady owner) find themselves in a rather unusual location. Not Voldemort-compliant (treat the Potterverse as though there were no mad evil angry villains). Title follows the Cabin Pressure trend of naming episodes by where they take place.
-
At first glance, Severus Snape had no idea what he was looking at. There was a large metal object with its nose ground up against the eastern wall, but it certainly wasn’t like any aeroplane he’d ever had the privilege of seeing. What with the thin trail of black smoke rising from the far wing and what looked like duct tape on the tail, he wasn’t certain that it was a creation ever having been meant to fly in the first place.
Just as he strode toward it, wand at the ready, robes billowing behind him, three men came from around the side of the aircraft and caught sight of him.
“Who are you?” Snape demanded when he stood close enough, not lowering his wand. “And what are you doing on Hogwarts grounds?”
“Hogwarts –” began the older of the three fellows, a look of disbelief on his face, and the shortest one cut him off loudly and apruptly.
“I’m the captain, I’ll do the talking! My name is Captain Martin Crieff. We lost an engine due to what I suspect was a bird flying into the rotor –”
“Quaffle.”
Both Snape and Captain Crieff turned to the older man. “What did you say?”
“I said, ‘Quaffle’.”
Snape’s frown had deepened, but the line between his brows smoothed when the First Officer’s eyes met his. It had been years upon years, yes, but he recognised that face. “Douglas Richardson.”
“Severus Snape!” Laughing, Douglas clasped arms with Snape, who finally lowered his wand. “I never thought I’d see this place again after they snapped my wand.”
“Indeed. This is your vocation now, flying aeroplanes that are barely fit to hold real passengers, let alone remain in the air for any extended period of time?”
“Until very recently, not exactly. But ah, do circumstances change.”
Douglas shook his head, stepped back, gestured to his companions. “Captain Crieff, Arthur Shappey, pleased to introduce an old schoolmate of mine, Severus Snape. And, truth be told, the old girl herself.” With one hand, he gestured vaguely toward the castle. Arthur’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened even more.
“Wow! You never said you went to school in a castle, Douglas!”
“Yes, Arthur,” came the dry response, “Do you remember that one thing I never said that it turned out I actually had done? This is another one of those times.”
The short one – Martin – had finally collected himself enough to return to the conversation.
“What do you mean, Quaffle? What is that? What do you mean you went to school in Scotland? I saw your CV! You went to school in Birmingham!”
“A very good detective you make, Martin. I did, in fact, go to school in Birmingham. But I also went to school here.” He dug into his pocket, rooted about for a moment, and surfaced with three fragmented shards of wood. “And this, gentlemen, is my evidence. Unicorn hair, mahogany, eight and a quarter inches. My days of using it are, naturally, long past.”
“What do you – how did – what do you mean, you –”
“If I may,” Snape interjected, grasping his cloak even tighter about his body. “Perhaps we ought to retire this discussion indoors. I shall take you to the Headmaster.”
As they began to walk, Douglas asked, “Ah yes, who is the Headmaster these days? Is it still old Dumbledore?”
“Dumbledore?” Martin mouthed, then turned to Arthur, who was gazing around the grounds with a look of sheer bliss on his face. “Does it feel like we’ve just stepped into a fairy tale?”
“You’re right, Skip! And isn’t it brilliant!”
Rating: G
Word count: 600
Crossover: Cabin Pressure
Summary: Our favourite Cabin Crew (minus one lady owner) find themselves in a rather unusual location. Not Voldemort-compliant (treat the Potterverse as though there were no mad evil angry villains). Title follows the Cabin Pressure trend of naming episodes by where they take place.
-
At first glance, Severus Snape had no idea what he was looking at. There was a large metal object with its nose ground up against the eastern wall, but it certainly wasn’t like any aeroplane he’d ever had the privilege of seeing. What with the thin trail of black smoke rising from the far wing and what looked like duct tape on the tail, he wasn’t certain that it was a creation ever having been meant to fly in the first place.
Just as he strode toward it, wand at the ready, robes billowing behind him, three men came from around the side of the aircraft and caught sight of him.
“Who are you?” Snape demanded when he stood close enough, not lowering his wand. “And what are you doing on Hogwarts grounds?”
“Hogwarts –” began the older of the three fellows, a look of disbelief on his face, and the shortest one cut him off loudly and apruptly.
“I’m the captain, I’ll do the talking! My name is Captain Martin Crieff. We lost an engine due to what I suspect was a bird flying into the rotor –”
“Quaffle.”
Both Snape and Captain Crieff turned to the older man. “What did you say?”
“I said, ‘Quaffle’.”
Snape’s frown had deepened, but the line between his brows smoothed when the First Officer’s eyes met his. It had been years upon years, yes, but he recognised that face. “Douglas Richardson.”
“Severus Snape!” Laughing, Douglas clasped arms with Snape, who finally lowered his wand. “I never thought I’d see this place again after they snapped my wand.”
“Indeed. This is your vocation now, flying aeroplanes that are barely fit to hold real passengers, let alone remain in the air for any extended period of time?”
“Until very recently, not exactly. But ah, do circumstances change.”
Douglas shook his head, stepped back, gestured to his companions. “Captain Crieff, Arthur Shappey, pleased to introduce an old schoolmate of mine, Severus Snape. And, truth be told, the old girl herself.” With one hand, he gestured vaguely toward the castle. Arthur’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened even more.
“Wow! You never said you went to school in a castle, Douglas!”
“Yes, Arthur,” came the dry response, “Do you remember that one thing I never said that it turned out I actually had done? This is another one of those times.”
The short one – Martin – had finally collected himself enough to return to the conversation.
“What do you mean, Quaffle? What is that? What do you mean you went to school in Scotland? I saw your CV! You went to school in Birmingham!”
“A very good detective you make, Martin. I did, in fact, go to school in Birmingham. But I also went to school here.” He dug into his pocket, rooted about for a moment, and surfaced with three fragmented shards of wood. “And this, gentlemen, is my evidence. Unicorn hair, mahogany, eight and a quarter inches. My days of using it are, naturally, long past.”
“What do you – how did – what do you mean, you –”
“If I may,” Snape interjected, grasping his cloak even tighter about his body. “Perhaps we ought to retire this discussion indoors. I shall take you to the Headmaster.”
As they began to walk, Douglas asked, “Ah yes, who is the Headmaster these days? Is it still old Dumbledore?”
“Dumbledore?” Martin mouthed, then turned to Arthur, who was gazing around the grounds with a look of sheer bliss on his face. “Does it feel like we’ve just stepped into a fairy tale?”
“You’re right, Skip! And isn’t it brilliant!”