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Minerva stalked into the tent, her anger apparent. "The nerve of that boy," she muttered to herself, "Calling me old to my face!"

She spotted her fellow professor, Stephen, playing some sort of game involving ravenous hippopotami. "Can you believe the students these days?," she said to him, "Why, the one I was forced to marry went on a tirade about how old I was. Right to my face!"

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Busily hammering the handle of the green hippo to devour as many marbles as possible, practicing his Hungry Hungry Hippos (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hungry_Hungry_Hippos) strategy such as it were, Stephen did not look up, but greeted his colleague with a distracted nod at first. "So the Hat has singled you out as well, Minerva. Even we faculty are subject to its whims. I understand Lily has been wed to Homsar, lucky girl." What she had actually said only registered after the hippo had clattered its way through the last of the marbles. Stephen straightened from the game table and bowed slightly to McGonagall. "Any student so shortsighted as to call you old, my dear Professor, betrays only his own inexperience. Masters of the ars amatoria have long sung the praises of une femme d'un certain age."

Of course, Stephen had a certain interest in this question (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1402177.html?thread=71481409&style=mine#t71481409), himself.

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Minerva looked away a blush rising high on her cheeks. "Well, it's good to see there still some well-mannered men at Hogwarts," she said.

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Stephen collected the marbles from the green hippo's reservoir. "Manners have precious little to do with such an estimation, on the contrary. In truth I fear my words have well exceeded already the strictures of good conduct, and I must beg your pardon for that lapse." He scattered the marbles again upon the plastic playing field circumscribed by eager hippo heads. "What I should have said, more properly and more simply, is that good never comes of casting pearls before swine, and thus it is all to the good you have had early evidence of your spouse's porcine nature."

He looked up from the lazily spinning marbles, briefly, long enough to meet her eyes.

"It would not do to trample a pearl."

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McGonagall was not stupid by any means and quickly saw through Stephen's florid speech. She was, of course, suspicious of his motives. She didn't know if he was trying to comfort her out of the kindness of his own heart or if he was blatantly flattering her for more personal reasons. She looked away from Stephen and the clattering marbles before him.

"I must admit, I've not been likened to a pearl before," she said carefully.

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This time he switched to the orange hippo. "Then I must apologise not merely on my own behalf, but on the behalf of all my gender, for their blindness; or else I must praise your circumspection, in keeping so aloof from men as to be hidden in plain sight."

The orange hippo devoured marble after marble in a rapid deployment of hinged jaws.

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Ah, so it was flattery afterall. But for what purpose? "It's not so much aloofness as it is living in a castle full of children. I, quite obviously, do not meet many men of my age in my line of work. Well, it used to be that way."

And it was true. Before Hogwarts had gone utterly made, what men were there? Dumbledore? Far too old. Snape? Too young, though that was the least of his problems. Flitwick? Too short.

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Not flattery, but gallantry; and not misplaced, by the standards of his time; he would have been quite surprised had he known he'd raised McGonagall's suspicions by merely complimenting her. "Indeed, I am told the castle once took a rather younger run of student, and the Hat had no prior habits of marrying them off to one another, let alone to the faculty. O tempora, o mores, we might deplore. Upon my word, this board gives the advantage to the green hippopotamus over the orange, by nature of their levers," he went on, his tone unchanging despite the change of subject.

The orange hippo quieted, having done with its feast, and Stephen's hand stilled over the lever that had activated it.

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It wasn't the compliments that had made her suspicious, but the way they were said. Even in Minerva's day, men did not use such elaborate speech. "And in those days, we had Death Eaters and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to worry about. They're all popcorn now- I'd almost count being married willy-nilly an even trade for that peace of mind."

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It would seem that wizarding culture had no equivalent of Regency novels or Merchant-Ivory films. Oblivious to McGonagall's insensibility, Stephen continued. "Popcorn is no guarantor of safety, sure; you know that as well as I, nay better, as you yourself have been a kernel unless I am misinformed. Perhaps the Hat has framed some plan beyond our guessing, in this latest gambit by which it has forced a good percentage of the student population into de facto evacuation. We may indeed consider ourselves under some bizarre form of martial law, may we not?" He gave the blue hippo's lever an experimental tap. "Our camp is laid out according to some schematic, even if we ourselves have little notion what its guiding spirit might be."

Privately he wondered whether the Hat might not have consulted Homsar for arithmantic advice before embarking on its venture in urban planning and community building.

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Ah, that was more interesting. She had misheard 'evacuation' as 'evaluation', though that seemed to make some amount of sense as well. "...Perhaps this is the Hat's attempt to observe the students and faculty closely?"

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Dax, taking a brief respite from married life (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1423314.html#cutid1), had a game of Candyland (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Candy_Land) set up, as she found the intricacies of the game fascinating on a scientific level. 'Gum Drop Mountains', 'Candy Cane Forrest' - where were the geological oddities of this 'Candyland' actually located? She'd had no idea Earth's climate could support such a massive crystallized sugar formation! This was fantastic news for the eco-system!

She pulled a blue card from the top of the pile, and sighed. She'd never find the King of Candyland at this rate.

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Nebulon once had a glorious dream. In it, his graffiti artistry won him a gold medal, a trophy, and a kingdom full of candy. Yes, in his dreams, Nebulon was the King of Candyland.

It was a land he could only revisit through board games.

He blibbled up to his fellow exo-patriate with a cheerful "My mother said to get things done / You better not mess with Major Tom!"

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Ah! Her mystery club member (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1409045.html?thread=71695125#t71695125). She'd never gotten the young man's name - or more information about this 'milk chocolate'. The mystery was eating away at her!

Dax greeted the enigmatic young student with a broad smile. "Very practical advice on your mother's part! Messing with your superiors, however tempting, is rarely a productive avenue of pursuit. The HR reps alone are an absolute nightmare!" Was it any surprise that HR reps still existed in the 24th century? "Care to join me for a game?"

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Nebulon's battle to communicate with others strained the very limits of his English-language databank. Said databank included, at present, only the collected works of David Bowie plus the recent discovery of an untitled cow song about mootrition. He tried to learn more every day, by overhearing things, and also by picking up satellite radio via a gold filling concealed in one of his daggerlike teeth.

"Game on," he burbled, and sat his lumpy green ass down.

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Dax could sympathize with Nebulon's plight - when one's communicator was on the fritz, you had to exhaust all potential resources! Why, there had been this one week on Vulcan when she was armed with only her wits, a broken communicator, and a tawdry romance novel...

Thrilled to see someone else take an interest in such a clearly advanced game, she clapped her hands together, and pulled another card. Purple! At last, she had escaped the clutches of Mama Ginger Tree! "Your move," she said, arms crossed tensely. This was no game of Tongo with Quark - this. was. Candyland.

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Lack of visible arms (http://www.hrwiki.org/index.php/Lack_of_Visible_Arms) was no deterrent to Nebulon getting his game on, yo. He pulled a card. It was red. It didn't get him very far at all. Still, he had his eyestalks on Mr. Mint. (http://www.hasbro.com/candyland/default.cfm?page=explore_mint)

"It's moooootritious!" he said, trying to see the bright side. Even one square's advance was a start.

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"I'll bet it is," she said evenly. Trying to take her mind off of the game with tantalizing hints about the Milk Chocolate, eh? How Machiavellian of him! But it simply wouldn't work - Dax was far above such tactics.

She reached for another card. Red. Blast! She was now at the foothold of the dastardly Lord Licorice (http://www.hasbro.com/candyland/default.cfm?page=explore_lord). This was a dangerous game, indeed!

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The spirit of the Milk Chocolate was with Nebulon, however. Triumphantly he drew a fateful card: an orange square! As his opponent could not fail to realise, this opened the Rainbow Trail to his intrepid gingerbread proxy (http://www.hasbro.com/common/instruct/Candy_Land__(2004).pdf)!

"Mootritious and moolicious," he smirked.

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Experienced gamer that she was, Dax was careful not to show how the new comer's Candyland prowess has impressed her so. She was truly dealing with a master.

She gave a slim, flirtatious smile, and wordlessly plucked her next card from atop the towering, unassuming pile of game pieces that haphazardly dictated the very destiny of Candyland's intrepid gingerbread explorers.

Blue. This was not looking good. But there was still hope! All Dax need do on her next turn was cross the fortuitous Gumdrop Pass, and she had a chance of catching up with her worthwhile opponent.

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Nebulon goggled his eyestalks at Dax in a way that said unmistakably How do you like Nebulon's style? Of course, it was all part of The Game. He turned up his next card. Green. Only a few squares' advance. But surely his opponent could not match his fortuitous early lead.

"We're jammin' (http://www.lyricsdir.com/bob-marley-jammin-lyrics.html)," he proclaimed with another jaunty eyebobble.

Could it be that his verbal repertoire had expanded to reggae? Perhaps Lord Licorice had liberated something within Nebulon's psyche. Or within his tail.

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Green? Curses! He was now edging his way into Peanut Acres!

Dax outwardly remained calm, but the drop of sweat running down her brow betrayed otherwise. Still, she gave Nebulon a wink, one which might have had nothing at all to do with the game. "Careful. I'm a married woman." In another lifetime, perhaps...

Pulling another card, Dax's hopes of Gumdrop glory were shattered. Purple. The promise land was but one step away, taunting her with its sugar-coated glory.

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Again a card bearing an orange square. So close, one square away from Peanut Acres. It was the story of Nebulon's life: so close yet so far away. No master of the poker face, he let his eyestalks sag in disappointment.

He heartened himself with the knowledge he still had a tremendous lead over Dax, but ... he wanted those nuts, damn it. Salty nuts enrobed in milk chocolate.

Nebulon hungered.

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Finally, her opponent was showing weakness. Taking that one small triumph, Dax summoned the courage, the bravado, nay - the cojones - to take another card, and thus traverse the laborious path towards King Kandy once again.

Red. At last! She was free of the patronizing Mr. Mint, and the mollycoddling Jolly (http://www.hasbro.com/candyland/default.cfm?page=explore_jolly). Jolly offered safety and comfort. One with a Klingon heart needed not these things.

But...what was this? Egads! She'd landed on a Licorice Space (http://www.hasbro.com/common/instruct/Candy_Land__(2004).pdf). How could she have been so careless? Now, helpless to the wiles of the lustful Lord Licorice, Dax had no choice but to sit out for a turn.

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Nebulon wallowed in triumph. The next two moves would be his! Ah, the sweet, sweet taste of his opponent's frustration. Blibbling a kind of gurgly smirk, he drew his first card, which took him clear of Peanut Acres (disappointed he hadn't gotten to linger there awhile, but knowing he must advance onward). His progress was inexorable! He was a juggernaut of candy!

Then. Then, the second card. Oh, woe was Nebulon.

IT WAS JOLLY.

The card bore Jolly's gumdrop legend. It commanded that Nebulon move back to the square governed by the blobby gumdrop animal.

Just because Nebulon happened to somewhat resemble Jolly didn't mean he should have to suffer for it!

With a discontented rumble -- something that might have been about the Good Ship Lollipop, it was hard to tell -- Nebulon moved his gingerbread token back to the mandated square. Back beyond the spot where his licorice-mired opponent languished.

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Hubris. Dax had seen many an opponent fall to it, and she now was once more witness to its devastation.

There was only one thing left for her to do. Only one feasible course of action. That's right, fair readers.

It was time for Jadzia Dax to Pwn.

Reaching for her card with a triumphant smirk, a cruel glint passed through Dax's eyes as she revealed what the luck of the drawl had seen fit to gift her.

Princess Frostine (http://www.hasbro.com/candyland/default.cfm?page=explore_princess)

A more gracious player might have moved their gingerbread avatar directly to the welcoming bosom of Candyland's first daughter. Dax was no such player. She moved her piece -block by tantalizing block- past Peanut Acres, beyond the Lollipop Woods, until landing with a judicious thud on that glorious, gossamer snowflake.

Now the game had truly begun.

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This truly was the unkindest cut of all. Bad enough that Dax had routed his candy-king hopes. Bad enough that she had made a point to slide her gingerbread man every slow square of the way, rubbing sea salt into the raw taffy of Nebulon's metaphorical wounds. But that she had done so with the help of Princess Frostine -- Frostine, whose strawy mop of hair and whose cool demeanor reminded Nebulon so keenly of his nemesis and archrival for Edward Elric's affections, Winry Rockbell Elric! That just added insult to injury.

Smarting, Nebulon drew a card. Purple. It got him next to nowhere. The only salve to his pride was that at least he'd gotten past the licorice swamp where Dax had earlier struggled. Fortune might not smile upon him, but Lord Licorice's clutches at least Nebulon had escaped.

"If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now, (http://www.lyricsdir.com/led-zeppelin-stairway-to-heaven-lyrics.html)" he warbled, totally fronting, though his dispirited lackluster tone gave away that it was only a front.

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Dax was nothing if not empathetic. It was inherent, reflected in her every word, every action. Eight lifetimes had gifted the Trill with a deep and abiding respect, an amused benevolence, towards all manner of lifeform.

But there was a time and a place for such things. Candyland was not that place. Now was not that time.

Content to let her opponent wallow in prison of his own making -her brief tryst with Lord Licorice made no difference now, and both players knew it- Dax simply reached for a card. Green. With no more specialty spaces, it was the best possible card she could have drawn. The mystery exo-patriate's very pigmentation had betrayed him.

"It's just a spring clean for the May Queen," she advised. For Dax, this was but one game of thousands.

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It was all over. There existed no possible way for Nebulon to catch up now. The knowledge of his defeat sat lumplike in the pit of his many-chambered stomach.

Yet the game must be played to its conclusion. To do otherwise would be to dishonor Candyland -- the game and the country, for a country it was, in the world of Nebulon's fondest and kinkiest dreams. He drew a card, and made a sour face. The card bore a green square, mirroring Dax's triumphant move. What a hollow chord it struck in his dissonant heart.

"My mother said to get things done. / You'd better not mess with Major Tom." The same salutation with which he'd begun their ill-fated game (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1431939.html?thread=72773507&style=mine#t72773507), now delivered in a flat tone of resignation.

Finish it.

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Your mother cannot save you, Dax thought. But let the man find comfort where he may.

She picked up another card, and found herself staring in disbelief at its contents.

Double Green.

Clearing over half of the space that remained between herself and King Kandy, she looked across the table with something akin to pity.

"I can't trace time (http://www.lyricsfreak.com/d/david+bowie/changes_20036790.html)," she said, allowing a bit of sympathy to creep into her voice. After all, there was never any real way to tell how a game of chance would turn out.

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Nebulon heard and accepted the compassion his enemy showed. Candyland was a game of cruel fate. The board and the cards governed the players' drifting; they were but flotsam and jetsam on that chocolate river, like so many shattered spars of licorice.

He could not blame her, no. He blamed the cards; blamed the board; blamed the perfidious King Kandy with his false coquetries! Double green ... it hurt, it did. Then he drew his own card, which made everything even worse. It landed him on the purple square which had been the scene of his earlier triumph, when he'd taken the Rainbow Trail shortcut to jump a loop. O, Candyland! It was all Nebulon could do to keep himself from flinging the board into the air and scattering the pieces to the four winds! With a bellow of outrage, Nebulon leapt up and produced from some unseen dimension his trusty can of spray paint. A nearby banner ("Welcome, Duck Waffle Progenitors!") bore the brunt of his territorial impulse.

NEB-1. It was his graffiti tag.

Nebulon had to represent. Somehow.

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Neb-1. At last, Dax had a name to affix to her all-but-fallen companion. It made what she had to do next just that little bit harder. Dax was a hardened gamer, true. But this was no longer a game.

It was a massacre.

Dax picked up her card, and saw no compelling reason to reveal its markings to Neb-1. They both knew, inherently at this point, the colors she had drawn.

Landing on one green space, and then whizzing through to the next, Dax landed a mere two blocks away from King Kandy. Were she to reach out, she could have felt the cool material of his luxurious robe between her fingers.

It was only a matter of minutes.

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The final square of the Candyland board was a rainbow, and beyond it, the gold of King Kandy's crown. Oh, the elusive crown, fool's gold that had lured many a man to his sticky sugary doom.

It would be Dax who enjoyed the spoils of King Kandy's realm. She would be master of his domain. Nebulon would press his noseless face to the candy store window in vain, denied the milk and honey of the promised land.

Glumly he drew his final card of the game. Purple, for what good it did him -- no good at all, only reminding him of King Kandy's royal purple robes. How Nebulon longed to wear such a robe. Then everyone would like his style, surely.

With the patience of the doomed, he waited for Dax to strike the last blow.

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