While flying to Scotland I went into my usual routine of listening to the Wicked soundtrack on repeat and daydreaming. This is the result. I'm not sure where this is going to take me rating wise, so I've set it to 'T' just in case. I'll let you know in advance if I plan on raising the rating.

PS. Although it does not need to be listened to with the music, I really liked the added effect. : D

Title: Musical Maladies

Summary: Hogwarts is thrown into chaos as students and professors alike are cursed to sing and reenact the lives of those who lived before them.

Chapter One: Good News!

No one knew what was happening outside the walls of Hogwarts. One minute, Voldemort was attacking random villages and towns and the next- nothing. Tensions ran high on both sides of the field, causing paranoia and mistrust. According to the resident potions master, the dark lord kept himself locked in a room day and night refusing to see anyone but Wormtail. This particular morning: dreary, damp and cold as it was, reflected the mood of the castle perfectly.

When a large group of students scattered about the hall jumped up suddenly, the faculty were not the only ones to reach for their wands. Those still in their seats did not know what to do as the group standing began the most peculiar behavior. They watched horrified as their fellows began belting unknown phrases, faces pained and terrified with every note that was torn from their throat.

"Good News!" the group sang with a mixture of triumph and elation. For a brief moment they all paused, faces red as they realized that they were the center of attention. Just as eagerly, and unable to help themselves, they sang awkwardly, "She's dead! The Witch of the West is dead! The wickedest witch there ever was- the enemy of all of us here in Oz- is Dead! Good news! Good news!"

The students singing began to run out of the hall before finding themselves rejected by an invisible barrier. Unable to realize that Oz, or a Wicked Witch for that matter, did not exist everyone rushed to the nearest copy of the Daily Prophet. Students glanced feverishly between the uncooperative papers in front of them to the real action surrounding them.

The professors had long since abandoned their meals to help their students. This proved most difficult, Professor Flitwick realized as he tried to calm one of his students. The Ravenclaw had clamored up on the Hufflepuff table in jerky motions as though he did not control his own body. He stood there and shouted, "Look! It's Glinda!" while pointing across the room to the Slytherin table.

Severus Snape, said potions master, and Head of Slytherin House could only watch in terror as the action prompted another of his students to rise abruptly from their seat.

"Fellow Ozians:" Pansy Parkinson began as her hands grappled for the table and then the boy who sat next to her. Quickly loosing the battle, the older Slytherin girl began to sing.

"Let us be glad. Let us be grateful. Let us rejoicify that goodness could subdue," she sang almost choking on the goody-goody phrases shooting from her mouth. A few of the singing students had already burst out in tears from the humiliation and pain caused by the forced singing. Goblets were gulped at eagerly as the professors frantically performed what healing spells they knew.

Pansy's voice, clear as it could be without warming up her voice, continued to ring throughout the hall. "The wicked workings of you-know-who. Isn't it nice to know: that good will conquer evil? The truth we all believe'll by and by," here the Slytherin's body gasped for air as though she were a fish out of water. At least some of the training she received from her mother was useful. If only she could get the breath support needed for these notes, maybe it would not hurt as much. "Outlive a lie!"

Applause began to scatter throughout the hall for the 7th year girl. Enchantment or not, her voice was astounding. In response Pansy merely grimaced as her racked her body with more air and held up her pointer finger. "For you and-"

Tears streamed down Pansy's face as Dennis Creevey interrupted singing, "No one mourns the Wicked." She collapsed onto the bench and gulped down her goblet as well as the goblet next to her, which happened to belong to Draco Malfoy.

Watching the Weasley girl choke out, "No one cries 'They won't return!" Draco refilled Pansy's goblet and his own. It was like watching a magical accident- you wanted to leave but you couldn't stop yourself from looking. In fact, he swore he had never seen the red that had been splattered across the Weasley girls face before the girl turned and hid her face in Potter's robes.

On the other side of the hall, those in recovery timidly sang, "No one lays a lily on their grave."

Only those closest to Harry Potter saw how pale his face grew. Only they could guess why. However, despite the ridiculous nature of the student's actions, everyone was afraid of what was to come. The student's pain when singing was clear to everyone in the hall.

As were the messages the students sang. "The good man scorns the Wicked!"

Luna Lovegood, dazed and content as she was with everything continued, "Through their lives, our children learn."

"What we miss, when we miss behave:" Meanwhile Pansy was being interrogated as all of the other students inflicted with the desire to sing did so. No, she did not plan this. No, she didn't know what was happening. Yes, she was quite sure!

Irritated though she was, she would have rather been questioned than to be forced to sing again. In retaliation, Pansy found an untapped source of emotion that propelled her words that much further. "And Goodness knows the Wicked's lives are lonely. Goodness knows the Wicked die alone.

"It just shows when you're Wicked," the Slytherin girl sang, not unaware of how honest her words rang. As if she could show everyone how fate had dealt her and every other Slytherin a similar hand, she sneered at her professors and spat, "You're left only on your own."

"Yes, Goodness knows the Wicked's lives are lonely." Surprisingly, or not as this tremendous mess did resemble a musical of sorts, the other students echoed her words. Their words showed just how easily people thought to be evil were condemned. "Goodness knows the Wicked cry alone. Nothing grows for the Wicked, they reap only what they've sown."

These unknown phrases were too much. They invoked feelings that would cause even Granger to run a crusade for those thought to be evil. It was too soon, the ideas too fresh but still more came.

More than anything, Pansy wished to retreat to her dorms in silence. To contemplate everything that had already been said-sung. This curse, or whatever it was, however, was nowhere near finished. It did offer a slight reprieve however as Pansy found herself speaking her next phrase.

"Are people born Wicked?" What a naive question, Pansy thought. "Or do they have Wickedness thrust upon them? After all, she had a father. She had a mother, as so many do."

Aghast at herself, Pansy could not help but say, "I think I just got more stupid."

Professor Snape could not agree more. He opened his mouth to something of the sort and instead, "How I hate to go and leave you lonely" came out instead.

Not even his snarling could stop the laughter invoked by his docile tones. Their laughter gained more fuel as another voice called out in return. "That's alright - it's only just one night."

Hand clapped over her mouth, Professor Sinistra stared wide-eyed at both her students and colleagues as she assumed the mothers role in return to Snape's role as the father. The laughter died down to snickers here, as Professor Sinistra was a fairly well liked teacher.

This did not last long as Professor Snape was once again called to play his part. "But know that you're here in my heart while I'm out of your sight," he grumbled, hands clenched at his sides, eyes clamped shut.

Even Pansy could not contain her laugher as the spell caused her to speak again. She looked from Professor Sinistra to Professor Snape eyes gleaming, who knew?

"And like every family - they had their secrets..." With that Pansy's enthusiasm died a quick death. Now she really hoped that these words did not replicate real life situations, because she was afraid things were about to get ugly.

Indeed it did. Of all people Professor Dumbledore stammered out the next few lines. "Have another drink, my dark-eyed beauty. I've got one more night left, here in town. So have another drink of green elixir and we'll have ourselves a little mixer." Mortified, Albus Dumbledore shook his head. "Have another swallow, little lady, and follow me down..."

This spell obviously knew no limits. First the students were hit, then the professors. Having never thought of their professors in such ways before, it was no surprise that the hall was silent enough for a cricket orchestra.

In the midst of all this, Pansy found herself proclaiming, "And of course, from the moment she was born, she was - well – different," while all her instincts called for her to obliviate herself.

"It's coming!" Professor Trelawney shrieked. No one seemed inclined to pay attention to her however. There were more… interesting things to consider than one of Trelawney's false predictions.

"Now?" Professor Snape, well, snapped at his least favorite colleague. Normally the professor suffered her ramblings in silence. His participation, you could say, must be affecting him more that everyone had thought.

"The baby's coming!"

"And how?"

Or not. It seemed that Professor Trelawney had merely joined the ranks of the teachers inflicted with the spell.

Almost in anticipation, the professors sang together, "I see a nose. I see a curl. It's a healthy, perfect, lovely, little-" The lack of baby or pregnant lady giving birth was confusing for a few seconds before those who caught on whispered to their neighbors.

Those Professor Trelawney's shriek was nothing new while Professor Snape was around; it still startled those in the hall. "AAAHHH!!!!"

"Sweet Oz!" Professor Snape croaked in his normal speaking voice. The sudden shift between singing and speaking caused a break in his voice that sent the students into fits.

"What is it?" Face red with her hands covering her face, Professor Sinistra's concern over the spell reflected in her spoken words. "What's wrong?"

Professor Trelawney shrugged thinking that her fellow was truly asking her the questions. Whatever she was about to say however came out as, "How can it be?"

"What does it mean?" Professor Snape could not take much more of the shifts. If one more student laughed at him-

"It's atrocious," Professor Trelawney interrupted.

"It's obscene!" That was it for poor Professor Snape. The rest of the students would be spending the rest of their careers with Argus in the dungeons chained to the walls.

"Like a froggy, ferny cabbage," The two colleagues sang while Professor Sinistra burst into tears. The emotions she felt were by no means hers, yet she knew her heart was breaking. Almost taunting her, two continued, "The baby is unnaturally-"

"Green!" Sang everyone inflicted with the spell. Professor Sinistra knew she could take no more, damn the wards. She ran toward the door and stumbled a bit, as she met no resistance. Soon after, those singing rushed the door only to find themselves pushed back. They called the professor back to see what she had done but she was long gone.

In disgust, having tried at the wards the hardest of them all, Professor Snape spat, "Take it away; take IT away!"

Pansy reeled away from the door, upset that she had met the same resistance. Here too, her own feelings rushed into her words, "So you see - it couldn't have been easy!"

Desolately, the students spread out again to get their won space instead of being crowded by the door. It wasn't over yet. "No one mourns the Wicked! Now at last, she's dead and gone!" the students sang. "Now at last, there's joy throughout the land."

The students continued to sing their part, although Pansy found herself echoing the phrases in an extremely high tone. Curse the makers of this score. "And Goodness knows, we know what Goodness is. Goodness knows the Wicked die alone."

At least for this last echo, Pansy was grateful to have her own words, obvious though they were, "She died alone."

"Woe to those, who spurn what Goodness is," the students sang hoarsely. The healing spells casts by the professors were beginning to loose affect. "They are shown no one mourns the Wicked."

The pain that Pansy felt did not just come from her torn throat. She felt completely and utterly destroyed. Almost like the time when Draco- "Good news!" she sang.

"No one mourns the Wicked!" Ok they got it already. Enough was enough.

Apparently not, as Pansy flung up her hands in exasperation, "Good news!"

"No one mourns the Wicked!" For the first time, Pansy actually sang with the rest of the students instead of echoing them. "Wicked!"

Maybe it was over now. Another student tried the ward. Nothing. What if-

"Wicked!" As if strings had been cut from their bodies everyone singing dropped to the ground. The student closest to the door fell through causing the professors to leap into action.

"Students who are unharmed return to your common rooms!" Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Everyone else to the infirmary. That does not mean you Potter, Weasley, Malfoy- oh for Merlin's sake. Only those that were singing! So unless you wish to add your vocals to the mix I suggest you all move along this instant."

Professor Dumbledore, it seemed, was leading the way as he ran past the students and up the staircase. He was surprisingly quick for his age. Those able to ran after him followed suit while the rest of the capable professors helped those too week with pain or humiliation up to the infirmary.

Once the rest of the students were sorted out and the prefects given their instructions, Professor McGonagall made her way up to the Infirmary. The entire room was in chaos with make shift beds while others budged up to share with their friends. Madame Pomfrey and Hermione Granger ran back and forth giving out pain reducers, and when those ran out, glasses of water.

Seeing the Deputy Headmistress, Madame Pomfrey ran over. "Its just awful, Minerva. What on earth is going on? Sinistra could only say so much before she went into shock. Albus is working his way up into it. Where is Severus I need-"

"Madame, Madame-" The professor interrupted, "If Severus is not here, I can only presume that he is in his dungeons, licking his wounds. Where is Albus?"

"No!" Madame Pomfrey said in disbelief. An altogether familiar glint entered the woman's eyes, as she gasped, "Not really... Did he?"

The mediwitch burst into slight cackles as she fought both her amusement and her professionalism as Professor McGonagall nodded her head with a smirk. She gave the mediwitch a moment or two to recuperate before asking for the headmaster again.

"Oh, him." The mediwitch wiped the tears from her eyes. She pointed to the back corner that had the curtains drawn. "Ol' sod is back there. Whatever happened gave him quite the fright."

This time the deputy chose not to indulge the mediwitch. She nodded her head slightly and made her way through the unnaturally silent hospital wing. A part of her feared that the students would never speak again, let alone sing- as quite a few of them had lovely voices- however her mind was preoccupied with the headmaster. She drew the curtain back and stepped in. "Albus-"

The wad of blankets huddled at the top of the bed trembled slightly at her voice. A moment later two periwinkle eyes escaped from the fold peering out at her. His eyes were filled with terror and sickness as he stuttered, "I'm not- I never-"

With that he withdrew into his blankets. Professor McGonagall placed her hand on his shoulder only to have him jerk away. "I know. I know."

"No you don't," the small voice escaped from the folds. "A part of me felt like I wanted to. I didn't care if she was married, only that she-" he gagged here, unable to continue.

"Shhhh," she tried to calm the man. If he freaked out that left her in charge and she had no idea how to handle the situation. "It's going to be alright."

"Never in my life have I felt that way. So that's what its like to want a women." Once again the blankets shuddered. "I feel so dirty."

He was not the only one.