The First (and last) Annual Pie Day

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recongnize. I don't own Pie day either - really its Pi day, based on 3.1417....blah blah blah. Long live Pi! *pumps fist in air*

The courtyard was warmed by the bright sun on this Friday afternoon. The students had gathered in nervous pairs along a barrier seperating the arena from the spectators. A row of chairs were sitting toward the west end of the arena, along a wall. In them were the teachers, of all people, most of them looking foward to the task at hand, but one, ah yes, one, looking rather disturbed, as if he was forced into this humiliating debacle. Many wondered why this certain teacher was even there at all. In fact, none of the students knew, this teacher was doing this as a favor to the headmaster, whom he admired and respected, one of the few adults he did respect.

But he was clearly not enjoying it. On the contrary, the other teachers (and even the headmaster, what a surprise) were sitting, wiping whip cream off their faces, in their hair, throwing remnants of pie in others faces, putting their hair in mohawks or spikes. That is- having fun! Many of these stern people, so annoyingly demanding and precise in class were now playing...like children. Every once in a while a student would walk up with a pie to the line of teachers, eager to not get hit, and then the Wap! as the pie consumes their face and hair. The students would shout in delight, and sometimes protest (if it was a favorite teacher)- for you shouted not just for a bad teacher, or a good teacher, or one you even knew. You shouted when the throw itself was a masterpiece of art, and when the person throwing the pie could walk away with pride, knowing that they were successful in humiliating a teacher. You would also think that the most hatred teacher would be the one that would be litterally covered in pies.

When I got out there, the pie throwing was progressing well. The teachers looked almost like cherry pies themselves- for many were red under the glare of the sun and white from the whip cream. I stood under an alcove, nursing my coke, watching the teachers jeer at the crowd to pay up and throw something. See, it was a fundraising event for a certain group at school, and they were offering one pie for a Galleon. It was a pretty good deal, I mean, who can put a price on such a special task? So close to the end, every teacher had been literally covered with pies.

Well, except the one at the very end, dressed in all black, even under the hot spring sun. Not even a speck of cream dared waft itself toward the teacher. There had been rumors floating around- affirmed even, but not by the teacher himself - that to pie him would require 100 galleons. I don't think it was the price that detered us- even though that's a lot- it was his natural aura of fear that he always cast around his students. He would look at his collegues with disdain as they threw cream at each other, arms folded, same condensending facial expression. Again, we wondered why was Professor Snape out here if he was going to kill whoever dared to? (I mean, we really didn't know if he would kill, but I mean geez! A former Death Eater, and he probably knows many curses and hexes, and all sorts of nasty poisons...).

Lee Jordan was egging the crowd on with his magically amplified voice the usual banter.

"Come one come all! Get revenge on the teachers who lowered your GPA! Why pay 400 galleons for revenge when you can do it here for one...."

After a particularly artful smash into Professor's McGonagall's face, Jordan was handed a piece of paper. I watched as he looked at it, looked toward Dumbledore, sitting in the middle, and nodded. Dumbledore nodded back, pieces of cream falling into his lap. Jordan looked a bit scared, then perhaps with a bit of reckless determinism, that akin to youth, he called-

"Pie Professor Snape for 100 Galleons! "

Sptth! My Coke goes all over the ground. Did I just hear him encourage the crowd to pie Snape? My eyes flew to where he was sitting, where a very angry Snape looked as if he wanted to literally kill Jordan. Luckly Jordan had moved to the other side of the arena, or else I think Snape would have stood up, and wrapped those bony white long fingers around his throat.
But Jordan didn't know when to stop-

" Just 100 Galleons! We have 20 already, we only need 80 more! Come on, pool your money together and see Professor Snape hit with a cherry pie!"

A pool? There was a pool started? I looked around and I could see random people pulling into their pockets searching for money- anything. I wanted to donate but I only had seven Knuts that I needed later in the week. Besides, I didn't want to lose my prime spot. After ten minutes of this-

"Come on people! We only need 30 more galleons to complete the greatest show on earth!"

It was interesting- Snape about to kill Jordan. I didn't know someone's face could contort that much. I glanced toward Dumbledore, who was just smiling as someone smashed a pie in his face and smeared it on his head.

Suddenly, all was quiet. Harry Potter, the celebrity- holding what was perhaps the biggest pie I'd seen. It was baked, with cherry filling. Did that mean...

"Ladies and gentlemen, due to an impressive donation from Harry Potter, we are going to see something that you'll be able to tell your children about. Professor Snape- pied with a cherry cobbler!"

The crowd started chanting "Harry Harry" as he strolled where Snape was sitting. Ooh, the hate from Snape's face! It was priceless. And Harry- well, he was determined. He hefted the pie in his hand-

"Can we have a coutdown? Five-"

Harry turned toward the crowd, looked at someone, and looked back at Snape-

"Four!"

Snape was saying something- maybe like -"Do it Potter, and you will regret it for the rest of your life."

"Three!"

The crowd held its breath- and so did I. My coke was pouring out on the ground, and I didn't care.

"Two!"

Was he even going to do it? I could see doubt across Harry's face-

"One!"

He stopped. We stopped. There was an awesome silence that one can only compare to an empty church. The birds had even stopped chirping. It was like Harry was making an important desision.- to Pie or not to Pie?

He held the pie in both hands, and ever so slowly, handed it to Snape. I think for the first time genuine confusion floated across Snape's face, as he took the pie in both hands from Potter. Then almost as an executioner, he pushed Snape's greasy head into the pie he was holding.

Utter silence. Not the expected cheers or salutations, except from Harry, whose face was quickly put to shame when he looked at Snape. I can't describe it. Potter that day crossed a line that none of us would cross- it was a blatant insult to Snape- even worse than just getting pied. It suggested an almost self-injury, the fact that Snape had been lulled into a little security that confusion brings us, then Potter smashing Snape's face in, that is, being injured by confusion. No one, not even Snape, should have been reduced to such damage. I don't think it helped that such an act was commited by Harry- we all know that Snape hates him more than any of us. I mean, we hated him, yes, but there is a point that you respect the man because he's your teacher. This Pie day was supposed to be fun, and all that, but Harry had crossed the line- we all knew it.

Too bad he didn't know it until Snape stood up, wiped most of his face off with the sleeve of his shirt, and pulled out his wand.

"Severus...: Dumbledore was saying, getting up and going to him.

"I warned you Potter- I told you- "

He then whispered something that none of us could hear, but apparently Potter did, for he got angry too, face contorting in the same way as Snape's did a bit earlier.

Snape approached Potter, and the whole thing would have been comical (for half the pie still was on his face) but it was hideously grotesque. The cherry syrup, heavy and sticky, dripped off his hands and face and clothing, looking distressingly like blood.....

But Harry didn't stop. He pulled out his wand and held it at Snape. It was a strange scene- a student and teacher threatening each other. I wished the bell would ring so I could go away because I was seriously getting disturbed. But the scene was also like a car wreck - you slow down and pull down your windows to see.

"I am sick of you insulting my dad! It is not his fault that you're such an low-life, despicable, asshole!"

"THAT IS IT! I WISH I HAD KILLED YOU MYSELF! I WOULD HAVE DONE IT RIGHT!"

(gasp! Did he say what I thought he said? Snape threatening Harry? And what did he mean by " I would have done it right"? So many questions....)

"WELL COME ON THEN! SEE IF YOU CAN! IF VOLDEMORT CAN'T KILL ME, THEN CERTAINLY A STUPID IDIOT SUCH AS YOURSELF CAN'T EITHER!"

But before a single spell can be fired, before we could even gasp at Harry's saying of You-Know-Who's name-

"SILENCE!!!"

Dumbledore's usually quiet voice reverbrated through the courtyard.

"I think it is time to end this."

He said something, and suddenly-everything was clean. There were no pie pans littering the ground, smears on the wall, and all the teachers- including Snape's disgusting "blood" - were clean.

"It is a sad day when such an innocent event causes such strife and encourages such behaviour."

We were all silence by our shame. Even I, who had not really done anything, felt guilty.

"Now I want everyone to go to class."

We started to disperse, and I noticed Snape and Harry going with Dumbledore, toward his office.

And so endeth The First Annual Pie Day, never to be revived again.