You can either be under the influence of the ssinging draught. , the dancing hex, both, or neither and just be spectator. Have fun!

---

The morning seemed colder, emptier, easier to fall asleep. Erik was use to operating at strange hours, and he seemed to be stealing naps throughout classes as often as he could, passing with only the stubborn aid of his twin.  It was kind of like having two brains, one to do the thinking, and another to do the sleeping and some other stuff.

However despite the weight of fatigue on Erik, he happily skipped into the great hall, bumping into an auror or two on the way in, somewhat on accident, due to lack of sleep, and mostly on purpose due to a contagious dancing spell Fir had passed onto him, to pass onto anyone and everyone else he touched. 

The Gryffindor continued towards his table, nudging in a spot and piling his plate with all the breakfast foods. One of everything, so he wouldn’t miss whatever had been drugged with the singing draught.

”Pass me the mass, er sass, um crass…” Erik turned his head up, face full of food, at the sound of rhyming and a low hum of murmurs and snickers followed as a rather sleepy Gryffindor scratched his head staring down at a plate of food, and since it didn’t rhyme with ‘pass,’ Erik supposed, the boy was having some issues.  Erik swallowed and watched the older student with a smile as he frustratingly gestured across the table to a girl, rather than the plate of food he wanted, and sang in an out of tune croak, “Damnit, pass me the lass!”

The girl went red and threw the food at the boy and the table broke out into an arpeggio of laughter. Erik rhythmically laughed down the scale with his own laughter, and then made his own attempt at talking:

“You’ve got a serious problem mate, with some issues reaching that plate.” The older boy wiped off his face and looked down the table at Erik who was beaming back, glad he managed to get some of the potion down. The Collins twin then confidently stood up on the bench and pointed excitedly at the boy, “And, clearly, not a great singer, were you born,” Erik began melodically with his younger high-pitched tone.

“The croak in your voice blows like an erumpet’s horn—“ a gaggle of laughter followed that line and the older Gryffindor promptly started throwing more food at Erik, who dodged and danced out of the way, slapping him on the back, in the process, spreading the contagious need to dance, and spun up onto the next House’s table.

“Blasting and ghastly and obnoxiously looouuud,” a slop of eggs flew his way and Erik ducked, swiping up a breakfast roll in the process, “ruining my beautiful morn.’” Laughter insued as the first year took a bite out of the roll and watched as the older house-mate tried to jump at him, only managing some weird and twisting dance maneuver that caused him to fall over onto the floor, and after that burst of laughter it wasn’t long until others realized that they wouldn’t be able to carry on any other sort of conversation without trying to skillfully carry a tune.

This Friday morning Eirene was focused on her breakfast and her homework, checking it over for the tenth time in case there were any spelling mistakes or additions she could edit in. Over the past week, she'd tried to put all of her energy into school like her mother had advised. Her mum had been working overtime at St. Mungo's since the werewolf attacks, and she'd seemed a little curt in her last letter, so Eirene was hoping to make her proud.

At first, she'd ignored the commotion at the Gryffindor table. But then they'd started throwing food in earnest, and a few of them stood on the tables, and now, there was a whole musical production! How very childish! Eirene stared at them with her spoon in one hand, mouth open.

Her head whipped around, checking for the professors at the staff table. Then, with a sort of strange rhythm, her head whipped back towards the Gryffindor table, and her braids swished over her shoulders.

Eirene hopped to her feet and pointed with her spoon.

"Erik Collins!" Her voice rang out, going upwards in pitch. Eirene clapped her hand over her mouth, but then her feet twitched, and she found herself stepping up onto her chair!

"Erik Collins, this just isn't funny! You'd better stop it right now or I'm telling my--"

"Mummy!" A chorus broke out at the Ravenclaw table.

"Singing and dancing, you look like a fool! And you're not allowed to throw things, it's against--"

"The Rules!"

Eirene stomped her foot on her chair in frustration, looking absolutely horrified when her other foot started stomping too.

Erik plopped his but down on the table, waiting and listening for the tunes breaking out over the hall, while chewing on his roll and kicking his feet happily to the underlying beat reverberating through the Great Hall. Then he heard his name song, and he piped his head up and finished swallowing the rest of his roll with a wide and infectious grin.

 Even if he did get in trouble, he couldn't help it--hearing Eirene sing, and the rest of the hall join in with her--it sent Erik into a string of laughs with the rest off the hall, and then he wound it back into a song, "Oh ho ho!"

The young Gryffindor bounced and skipped back up onto the table, so he could stand taller than his Ravenclaw classmate, "And what good are rules?" he sang across the hall.

Then a small quintet of female voices whined with a harsh tinge, making Erik startled, "Because we're in school!" He spun around to see that the singers were Ravenclaws--typical

But the Collins boy regained his momento, "And we should be learning and doing new things anyway!" he his voice rolled on melodically, as some other students stood up, laughing in a singy hum.

"And what's not to like?" sang a boy from the newly standing, swinging his fist joyously.

"What's not to say?" came a more feeble tune.

Erik picked up on the feeble tune, "about starting today," then he swiped up some dessert in his hand as his voice rose strongly, "with a laugh, a jig, and a side of..." then he flung the dessert back at someone at the Gryffindor table with a loud splat.

 "Parfait[1]!" Erik's voice rang out among many others in the hall, and shortly after his frozen dessert was returned with a mixture of ketchup and eggs right into his face. He pushed some of the food off his face, and licked up some of the ketchup  around his lips, and finished by furiously shaking the rest off from his face.

1.	Frozen desser, also means "perfect" in French.

Naomi was still eating, as the exciteable first-year Gryffindor went off into a melodic tangent with, (what looked like), one of his classmates. But the Slythering was waiting for something particularly genius to happen, but Collin's musical talent seemed to earn him some food-to-face applause, so Naomi kept eating with amusement.

Then food started flying, sloshing and smacking surfaces into an awkwardly catchy beat, until the house tables thumped, silverware and plates rattled, and someone started going between the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables swinging students up from their tables and into a dance.

Naomi had her long arm reached out to her side to grab something else to eat, still chewing what was left of her plate, when a hand latched around her arm and yanked her off her seat and to the floor.

She skipped around her feet to come to a stop, then latched onto the nearest person's arm and pulled back, pulling someone else up from their seat before she finally stopped, swallowed her food, and then actually looked at who she grabbed. Her braid was swinging over her shoulder as she put together who Hufflepuff standing in front of her was, not caring much about the awkward pause surrounding them as they stood still.

Then the young Slytherin cracked a sly smile as she put everything together in what seemed like a simmering silence.

"Cin you burn di' floor, s'well you flip your curls?" She grabbed Fauna's other arm and tugged her onto the floor with some clever footwork, before swinging her into a spin.

Naomi clapped her hand then drummed the front of her thighs to start up another beat and hopped to a stop to watch Fauna as some other students happily piped up and into a singy chant to Fauna,  "Dance girl, dance!"

When Fauna stepped into the Great Hall that morning, pandemonium was already underway. She stood there, torn between bafflement and alarm, watching the kids chuck ketchup and taunts at each other. For the first few seconds, she thought that an epic food fight had broken out, like the one she'd helped start at the end of the last school year. But the students' taunts rang out in rhymes now, and the hurried gestures morphed into swinging hips and flailing arms.

It was like the Jets and the Sharks had split up into four groups, and were duking it out right over plates of scrambled eggs and bacon!

Despite the best interests of her uniform, Fauna walked in further, pausing by the Hufflepuff table, where a house-elf was desperately trying to stop the madness. She took a spare seat next to the elf, hoping to convince it to run back to the kitchens while this whole thing played out, when suddenly someone pulled her out of her chair and twirled her around.

A girl Fauna recognized as a younger Slytherin danced in front of her, urging her to join in. Fauna hesitated, face flushing, glancing around.

Dance, girl, dance! A whole chorus started up.

So Fauna shrugged her shoulders, and danced. She swung her hair around (hair toss!), and shook her bum, pausing every once in a while to join in with a verse or let out a giggle.

The secret? Fauna had not had anything to eat or drink yet. Her rhythm was off, her voice out of tune, and she kept bumping into the students around her, but feck it, she danced anyway.

"Oy! You lot!" She laughed, going over to a group of stragglers standing by the Great Hall doors. "Come on!" Fauna pulled on their hands. "I think someone slipped something into the food. Just go with it."

Erik skipped through a throng of dancing limbs and an air thick with song. He grabbed a plate of strawberries, toast, splattered with jam and drops of syrup. He remembered sneaking in the night before and lacing the jam, at least, and grinned as peered around to the edges of the hall, where some students admired with shock, awe, and confusion.

The Gryffindor made a dramatic slide to some older students, one encouraging everyone to jump into the fun; Erik couldn't agree more.

"Or if you would permit,
I can serve you a bit:"

He artistically waved his hand over the fruit and toast,

"strawberries and jam
with s slab of this,"

then he grabbed a strawberry and popped it into his mouth, chewing enthusiastically.

"Really good I promise."

The dancing spell didn't seem to rub off on Fauna well, and it didn't take a genius to tell that she didn't eat any of the food, but Naomi didn't care. She still had a white smile creeping across her face and there were more important things to be done, like dancing.

She spun away from the Hufflepuff, temptation to pass on the contagious dancing overwhelming her. Her hips popped and locked her legs over to a quizzical tune--helplessly beating their voice against a rhyme, while lost in the morning melody.

Naomi grabbed ahold of the singer and craned them up, hoping the dance spell would rub off onto them while working off of the singing drug to get them to move their feet with the rhythm.

While she had been fully instrumental in helping to plan and orchestrate this little demonstration of skill with potions Dahlia wanted nothing to do with the out come. Singing and dancing just weren't really logical and while she agreed that they needed to blow off steam every now and then having a food fight was not her ideal way of doing so. She had sat quietly at her own table all morning feeling anxious about what she knew would be happening. She had eaten because she was hungry but didn't dare open her mouth for fear of what might come out.

However her best laid plans were about to run afoul. In the midst of the confusion over chorus of song - that surprisingly was coming out like a full blown musical rather than a cacophony of tone deaf students - and flinging food Dahlia caught a scoop of scrambled eggs right on the side of her face. She squealed in rhythm to those around her and instinctively pulled out her wand and pointed it at her own hair, "Scourgify!"

The spell had never sounded so beautiful and melodic before. Still on her feet Dahlia sighed and let out a small angelic voice she wasn't entirely aware she had, "Seriously guys this is barbaric, can't we just enjoy the meal without throwing it?"

She received another whack of Merlin knew what straight to the chest this time, her eyes narrowing at the one who had thrown it at her, "Please don't make me use this wand on you, I can't express the pain I could put you through, I could make you scream and wail and moan, so why don't just just be smart and leave me alone!"

Analizas quill scraped hastily across one of many small scrolls, writing the same thing she had written a dozen times before. Dear Mr/Mrs So and so, I assure you that your child is safe at Hogwarts and we hope you will continue to allow your child to continue their learning under our professors excellent tutelage. Blah blah blaggity blah... She was so tired of writing this drivel. Honestly, if it wasn't for the fact her job depended on all these little mouthbreathing brats, she wouldn't give a rats ass if their parents pulled them out of school. Alright, perhaps that was a bit harsh, but considering the last couple of months, she couldn't help but be resentful. She let them have dances, parties, fairs and more Hogsmeade trips then ever recorded. She brought in some of the greatest, if not the most controversial, experts in their fields to teach these snot-nosed little gits. She was hosting a damn Tetrawizard Tournament for Merlins sake... Tetra, NOT Tri. Did they have any idea how much work she put into making the school a fun yet educationally rewarding place? Apparently not because they treated her like some sort of ogreish monster who strived on making their lives hell! It was so... so infuriating!

"Ahem... Headmistress..."

The combination of her angry thoughts and the sudden interruption of the painting to her left causes Ana to press her quill so hard to the paper that she tore clean through it. "mother..." she started to mutter before turning to the painting "...WHAT? Can't you see I am busy?? What could possibly be so important?" She snarled at the dour looking gentleman. He was a meek but dignified sort, the kind that only held office for a few years but managed to give the air of someone with tenure. It was with this air that he sniffed a bit disdainfully at her and said stiffly "... Well... If you are going to be so snappish, I won't tell you how your darling students are all but destroying the Great Hall..."

"What." Ana said flatly, her expression blank but her pale golden eyes glittering with underlying threat, daring him to repeat that. She could have only made her point clearer by producing a razor and some paint thinner. He glanced at the other portraits nervously before coughing and adding, in a slightly meeker tone "... I mean... there is a commotion in the Great Hall that requires your... leadership... abilities..." Anas eyes narrowed slightly before she slammed the quill into the ink pot, splattering eldritch dye across the already ruined letter. "There had better be something big going down..." She hissed, crumpling the letter up and tossing it into the trash with its brothers and sisters "... or the storage room walls are going to get some new decor..."

---

It didn't take long for her to make it to the Great Hall, but she regretted her rush when she got there. The moment she opened the door, she was met not only with the sight of flying food, but of singing and dancing. Some deep, forgotten, part of her admired the scene. As a child she had been something of a hellraiser at Hogwarts, dabbling in pranks and jokes eagerly. But she wasn't in Hogwarts anymore... well... not as a child anyways. She was a full grown woman with responsibilities and intelligence and for gods sake, Louboutin heels!! Heels that were now, thanks to a pile of spilled eggs at the doorstep, covered in filth. "W...WHAT IS...HAPPENING HE--" She started to shout when she slipped on the eggs. Flailing she caught herself on the doorframe and managed to keep herself from falling face first. Her mouth, agape with surprise, was suddenly filled with potato pancakes. Apparently someones aim was a tad off and they had accidentally hit her... or rather it had better been.

Eyes glittering furiously, Analiza managed to swallow the lump of potato before opening her mouth and... letting out something that sounded vaguely like a melody, if your idea of a melody was filtered through a kazoo. ".. Whaaat is the meaning of this noise?..." She gasped and covered her mouth, horrified that she had just sang aloud. She wasn't a good singer by any stretch of the imagination and had never intended anyone to hear those nasily tones come from her lips. However, she wasn't about to let some silly singing spell, whatever it was, from stopping her from stopping this... this... cacophony!

"Pay attention, girls and boys... Who is to blame for this mess? I suggest you don't make me press you to confess, or I swear there will be paaaain..." She gave her best impression of an opera singer, if said opera singer was underwater and choking. It wasn't good, but it was loud enough to echo across the room. She grabbed a nearby boy by his arm, singing threateningly at him "... Tell me whose the culprit... Admit, you little git, before I have a fit... and you never sing agaaaaain!"

It was like there was a sudden chill, a gust of eerie wind that glued many students feet to the cold stone flooring, waiting. A waiting that was quickly followed by a rolling thunder of an opera that could be described by no other word than the fire-tinted and sharply quilled word that was Snark.

Erik, had indeed come to halt with the rest of the Great Hall, but he couldn't hide the smile pulling across his cheeks at how fantastically musical the headmistress was--he would have to do this again sometime.

There were hushed giggles and rhythmic whispers and mumbled hums passed through the hall, and Erik passed off his plate of food to someone else before returning to his sibling's side a with a gently rushed tune, "I've had a good song, and the trip was fun, but I'm ready to go, so let's make an exit, this dance is done," he smirked as he surveyed the other students, checking to make sure no one had pegged him as the perpetrator just yet.