How Hogwarts Became a Nudist Colony - Harry Potter - 2/2
(Link to the first half of the story and an explanation to this craziness.)
Title: How Hogwarts Became a Nudist Colony
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: Teen (PG-13) but includes a few partial nudity NSFW doodles
Wordcount: ~15k
Warnings: Uh, nudity, duh. Also, underage students involved in nongraphic sexual situations. Teacher/Student.
Summary: Harry Potter arrives at school to find the students nude. Where are their clothes? Why are the Houses getting along better? What do Hermione and Snape have to do with the nudity?
Pairings: While none are centered upon, hints of Hermione/Severus, Ron/Pansy, Draco/Ginny
A/N: Half Blood Prince and onward didn't happen in this 'verse.
Disclaimer: Alas I make so little cash, that shall the lawyers come to bash, they shall have to meet me at the internet café, where I'm spending my last penny away. For those with lack of comprehension, let you know I lack a pension-So do not bother with your rants, I only own the part where they lose their pants.
Part 5: Clothing Council
Harry covered his face with his hands. This was going to be a long story.
Dumbledore began. "As you know, the students were now aiming to bring their terms to me. The protest gained fury and the students were in need of a final act-something to catch the attention of, well, me."
Harry's head shot up. "Excuse me, but I would think that your attention was fully caught."
"Indeed, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Nevertheless, I had not taken the time to listen to Ms. Granger. One could say that the repercussions were well deserved."
"Repercussions?" Harry looked dumbfounded.
"Can't we get back to the parts that make Potter uncomfortable?" Draco snapped.
"You're just loving this, aren't you, Malfoy?" Harry growled.
"Yes, actually." Draco grinned. "It's not my fault you're so bloody insecure with your primitive sexual tendencies, Potter. The concept of nudity alone puts you on the edge. Yup, you're a nutcase. Completely bonkers."
"I'M BLOODY BONKERS! YOU PEOPLE ARE RUNNING AROUND WITHOUT YOUR CLOTHES, AND I'M THE ONE WHO'S MAD?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, here comes 'caps-lock Harry'. So predictable."
"AHEM!"
Harry dove to the floor, expecting Umbridge to appear. ("Apparently she left a 'scar'," Draco sneered.) He looked up, however, noticing that it was just his Headmaster clearing his throat. Harry crawled back into his seat looking shamefaced.
Ron stared at his friend with an arched brow. "Merlin's sake, Harry, I think you are losing it."
"Told you," Draco coughed.
"That would explain the last hour of my life." Harry shrugged his shoulders, feeling defeated.
"Let us get back to the tale," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ahh, yes, we were about to get to the forming of the Clothing Council."
Harry shook his head; this sounded like the beginning to a very bad E! News Special.
The Great Hall. Eight hours, sixteen minutes, forty seconds after Hermione became a Demi Moore fan.
The Flashing Brigade gathered at the faculty table. Hermione sat front and center, Ron and Ginny to her sides. The large group of nude students was sitting on top of their tables, the houses mixed. The house banners were removed, replaced by flags that read "Unity through Nudity!" and some house elf nonsense that pretty much everyone ignored.
Hermione stood before the group, and they became silent, eager to hear their leader's plan.
"So far, we have been successful," Hermione began. There was a roar of applause that she paused for. "However, we have only just begun. The hard part has yet to come. As I told you earlier, we must bring our case before the Headmaster. The Flashing Brigade has decided to hold a Council meeting with the Headmaster and his followers-the Knicker Huggers as so many of you have nicknamed them." There was giggling from the group. "We must come to an agreement. We must give them our terms, and we must do so in orderly fashion. I leave you all to the task of turning the Great Hall into a proper council room while we fetch the enemy."
Blaise Zabini, a rather hot male Slytherin currently surrounded by young women, stood up. "But how do you expect to get Dumbledore and the others down from his office?"
Hermione grinned. "Leave that up to the Flashing Brigade. We have a secret weapon. Do not fear. We will topple their defenses!"
The students cheered her on as she and her brigade left the hall, smiles plastered on their faces.
Hermione did indeed have a secret weapon. His name was Severus Snape.
Severus Snape felt free. It had been a long time since he had gone commando beneath his robes (not since his fourth year, to be exact). However, this comfortable sensation did nothing to calm his nerves.
"I don't see how this is necessary," he said, quite Snapishly.
Hermione frowned but not because her potion's master was now wearing clothing. No, that was not the reason. No, it wasn't. Well, maybe it was a reason. But not the only reason.
"Professor, we need you to go in," she said. "You're our number one man, so we need you to break their lines."
"You silly girl, they have no lines!" Snape replied. "They're holding out in an office. Rations are low. They won't last long."
"'ermione, I can't believe I'm saying this, but he's right," Ron commented. "They're going to break soon. When they do, we'll be there to catch their blouses."
"Oh, shut up, Ron," Hermione said. "We need to have Snape talk Dumbledore into coming to the meeting. Severus…umm… Professor, we need to resolve this peacefully, and you're the only person who can talk some sense into them. Understood?"
"Yes, Ms. Granger." Snape smiled, causing Hermione to blush and the rest of Flashing Brigade to blanch. "Though I am not the most skilled negotiator in this room, I am the only adult, so I suppose it is the most logical course of action." He stopped a moment. "That is if logic has anything to do with this situation."
Draco smirked. "Don't question it, Professor. Just go with it. And enjoy the view."
"Nice advice, Draco," Ron added, patting the Slytherin on the back.
"Thanks there, Ron."
Snape looked bewildered by the odd exchange. "If I didn't know better..."
"What?" Hermione asked. "Oh, never mind. We haven't the time for pondering. Professor, are you ready?"
Snape nodded.
Hermione approached the door to Dumbledore's office.
"Headmaster Dumbledore! Hear me! This is Hermione Granger. We are sending in a negotiator to give our demands!"
The passage began to open and Severus Snape stepped forward.
10 minutes later
Snape sat in the center of the group of Knicker Huggers...err…teachers. He was currently in a stare-down with Dumbledore. Minerva frowned at the two men, obviously wishing that she could pace the room.
"Albus?" Snape asked.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, you've done very well indeed, Severus."
McGonagall pursed her lips. "At what risk?" she snapped. "The school is in chaos! Thankfully we have not been attacked in the last twenty-four hours, or we would surely have been defeated. Albus, this is a foolhardy plan!"
"Oh, really, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked, eyes sparkling.
The woman flared her nostrils and turned her back on the group.
Snape shook his head. "Is there anything else I should be doing, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore grinned. "No, you are doing splendidly. Make sure that Ms. Granger stays properly inspired. Tell her that we will be attending the Council meeting."
Snape stood, lowering his head as he exited the office. His next task would be to...
Dumbledore's Office. Present day.
"Wait! Wait! Wait! Stop the story!" Harry called, interrupting Dumbledore.
Ron looked up quickly. "We haven't run out of popcorn, have we?" he asked, panicked.
Harry ignored him, speaking to Dumbledore instead. "You mean that Snape was working for the Knicker Huggers-I mean, you? Slimey git! He double-crossed Hermione!"
Dumbledore raised a brow. "Not exactly."
Harry waited for an explanation but none came. "What do you mean? He's a spy, isn't he? That's what it sounded like."
Dumbledore's grin grew. "Well, I suppose you'll have to hear the rest of the story before you make such judgments."
"Yes, Potter. Do stop interrupting the bloody story. Were this a written piece, readers would be getting very aggravated with you for your ignorant questions," Draco said.
Harry shot darts with his eyes, then turned back to Dumbledore. "Fine, go on then."
Part 6: Professor Snape's Panic Button
Dumbledore nodded and continued, "Well, as you might imagine, there was much confusion where Professor Snape's loyalties were concerned."
Harry interrupted him-again. "Earlier you said that Snape had another task. What was it? Tell me that Hermione didn't fall for all this."
"Stupid Potter!" Draco snarled. "This is the very reason no one ever tells you anything! You. Are. An. Idiot."
Harry immediately hurled a lemon drop at Draco, hitting the blond in the eye.
"Bloody ponce, I think you took my eye out," Draco said, entirely too casual.
"Now, Harry, that really was quite the rudest thing you've done today," Ron replied. "'Suppose Draco and I should go take a bathroom break now, then?"
Dumbledore grinned. "Excellent idea. Five minute intermission, everyone."
"INTERMISSION!" Harry was livid. "No! Finish the damned tale now!"
"Very well," Dumbledore smirked. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, you may go. Prepare the students for this evening. Oh, and have your eye checked, Mr. Malfoy."
The two boys scurried off, leaving Harry in Dumbledore's office.
"Now, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began. "Everyone took off their clothes. The end."
"What was that suppose to be?" Harry snapped.
"The ending."
Harry snorted. "That wasn't the whole story."
The Headmaster raised a brow. "Now you want details?"
Harry only glared so the elderly man continued on. "Well, there was the mishap at the Council meeting…"
"Mishaps?"
"Yes, it seems our students' parents had gotten word of Miss Granger's nudist campaign."
Harry moved to the edge of his seat. "Oh, really?"
Back at the Great Hall. Nine hours, forty-three minutes, ten seconds after Hermione gained many admirers.
Hermione tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. She was certain that the next half hour would be extremely important to their cause. People would look back on this Council meeting and see the right in what her followers were doing. They would see that house elves deserve respect and freedom as well as all other thinking creatures. They would see Professor Snape's wisdom in his obtuse suggestion and Hermione's Gryffindor bravery in stripping herself bare. They would see-
"Shoes."
Hermione's eyes shot to Ginny Weasley. Ginny was giggling uncontrollably and pointing in the direction of the hall's entrance. Hermione immediately found the source of the red head's entertainment.
Pansy Parkinson was walking her way, wearing stilettos and carrying a fashionable handbag. However, she was still nude, as was everyone else in the room. Pansy pranced up to Ginny, a frown on her face.
"What's so funny?" she snarled.
"Why are you wearing shoes? We're nudist now, remember?" Ginny replied.
"We were only told not to wear clothing. Heels are not classified as clothing. Plus, they make your calves look much better-you should really try them." Pansy put her hands on her hips, striking a pose.
"Please! Nudists don't need shoes-especially shoes with a matching handbag," Ginny replied.
Pansy turned to Hermione. "What do you think?"
Hermione made a face that either meant the house elves were cooking tuna surprise or that she simply didn't wish to point out the obvious. "Well…They are a bit out of place."
Pansy let out an animalistic grow. "You're just saying that because you like Ginny better than you do me!"
"Now, now." Hermione tried to calm the two girls, but Ginny's face was already the color of a beet.
"How dare you! Hermione is our leader! She would never be swayed to lie about our cause over the matter of shoes! Stripping is more important than that!"
Pansy was livid. "So now you're saying that I don't care about our cause because I'm wearing a very trendy pair of stilettos? Next you'll be saying that earrings are foolish and that I'm a Knicker Hugger for having jewelry!"
Ginny grinned. "Well, if the shoe fits."
"YOU!" Pansy leaped, taking Ginny down. The two tossed and tumbled, ripping out bits of hair and scratching each other in a furious cat fight. Hermione was quite sure she heard feline hisses.
Hermione turned, noticing that the entire hall was now watching Ginny and Pansy. Included in the crowd were Draco and Ron, both with heads cocked and mouths half open as they watched the two girls continue to fight. Blaise stepped between them offering them popcorn and taking bets on who would win.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly."
"This is...wicked," Ron breathed.
"I know," Draco sighed. "Is there anyway we can provoke them into fighting every day."
Ron grinned dreamily. "Couldn't be that difficult."
"RON! DRACO!" The two boys jumped at Hermione's call. "Separate them before they hurt one another," she continued.
Ron nodded glumly. He and Draco approached the girls, carefully grabbing them by the elbows to hold them back. The girls continued to struggle.
"Ladies, honestly, this is a stupid fight. You're fussing over the right to wear shoes!" Ron said, holding tightly to Pansy's arms.
Draco nodded, taking up where Ron left off. "Really! It's as stupid as fighting over the right to wear a hat!"
Ron frowned. "Now, that's different, Draco. A hat serves a purpose. It hides bed head and keeps the sun out of your face and..."
"OH, please, you're as bad as Pansy! A nudist wearing a hat would be dumb," Draco sneered.
"Oh, really?" Ron's face pinkened.
"Yes, really," Draco snapped.
"Well.,,Well, I don't think you should criticize Pansy for wearing shoes! And... And hats are wicked with or without clothing!" Ron let go of Pansy, and Draco released a squealing Ginny.
"I criticize who ever I wish, including you and your pimpled cheeks!"
Ron looked confused. "I don't have pimples on my face."
Draco grinned evilly. "No, not on you face."
Ron tackled Draco, and the two began to throw punches in every direction. Pansy and Ginny started fighting once again and thus chaos was born.
Hermione felt a headache coming on. She couldn't think of a worse possible time for the most vital members of the Flashing Brigade to lose their tempers. The meeting would begin in minutes! Sure, the two young men fighting in front of her were quite tempting and very entertaining. After all, they were sweating and flushing in anger and tumbling on the ground. Hermione sighed.
"Erotic, isn't it?" said a voice.
Hermione jumped. Professor Snape was standing beside her, watching the fights.
"What did you say?" she asked.
Snape turned to her with a raised brow. "'Ironic, isn't it?' Why, what did you think I said?"
Thankfully, Hermione didn't have to answer that question. At that very moment, Dumbledore and the Knicker Huggers arrived. The fully clothed individuals kept their wary eyes on the floor, trying to avoid seeing the usually hidden parts of their students' anatomies. McGonagall, with her sixth sense to detect troublemakers, did not even have to look up to shout at the fighting students.
"Miss Parkinson! Miss Weasley! Mr. Weasley! Mr. Malfoy! Please restrain yourselves! Twenty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin for fighting in the Great Hall-and subtract another ten for fighting while unclothed."
Dumbledore looked up at Hermione and gave Severus a suspicious wink. The old headmaster smiled kindly. "Well, Miss Granger, it seems that you have transformed the Great Hall into a Council room."
"Yes, Headmaster," Hermione answered. Rebellion streaked across her face. "I must warn you, Headmaster. I do not plan for you to leave this room with your robe on."
McGonagall made a very strange noise behind Dumbledore.
Dumbledore smiled. "Honestly, neither do I."
McGonagall promptly fell backwards onto a naked first year.
Hermione's face lit up. "Headmaster, are you serious? Do you truly wish to join our cause?"
Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a loud thud-and this time it was not a fainting McGonagall. Every eye was averted to the now open main doors. Several unexpected guests peered inside. There were only a few precious moments of silence before all Hell broke loose on Hogwarts.
The Parents had arrived.
"What the bloody hell's going on here?"
"Where's my baby?"
"Dumbledore, I'll have your job for this!"
"Is Severus Snape naked?"
"Everyone's bloody naked!"
"Has everyone gone nutters?"
"So the rumors are true!"
"I'm suing for sexual and mental abuse!"
"This is just wrong."
"Damn," Professor Snape commented. "Word must have leaked out. That's it. We're ruined. I might as well throw away my degree in advanced potions. My career is over!"
Hermione slapped her professor across the face. "Snap out of it, man!"
Snape held his stung cheek. "Sorry. I don't know what came over me." A moment passed. "You slapped me!"
Hermione frowned. "Professor, I think we have discovered your panic button."
While Snape was looking completely perplexed, the parents charged. The Malfoy's made their way down the center, flanked by the Weasleys and a very disturbed Ms. Longbottom. The Grangers and several other families fell close behind. The hall erupted in even more chatter as several students received lectures and pinched ears from their concerned guardians.
"Excuse me." Dumbledore held his hand in front of him. Surprisingly, the group quieted. All eyes were on the Headmaster.
Lucius Malfoy was next to speak. "How could you allow something like this to happen? Do you understand what this could do to my son's reputation?"
"Things are not quite as they seem, Lucius," Dumbledore commented.
"I walk in to find Draco tussling on the floor with a Weasley. Nude. And you are trying to tell me that things are "not quite as they seem"?" Lucius hissed, his voice dangerously low.
Dumbledore smiled politely. "The school was preparing for a meeting to discuss this nudity situation. Would you like to sit in? I'm quite sure that can be arranged. Miss Granger was just about to go over the reasons behind this new nudist trend."
"This should be enlightening," Lucius sneered.
Hermione looked confident. She took a deep breath, put her hands on her hips and began...
Chapter 7: The Boxer Rebellion
Harry Potter raised a hand, something akin to fear on his face. "Just a moment, Headmaster..."
"Will you stop interrupting!" snapped a grumpy portrait across the room.
The boy-who-lived-to-disturb restrained himself from using an impolite hand gesture and ignored the painting. "Professor Dumbledore?" Harry paused to reassure himself that Ron and Draco were not about to run into the office. "Are you saying...? I mean did...? Was Ron really 'turned on' by his sister and Pansy's cat fight?"
Dumbledore raised a brow, taking the chance to clean his spectacles on a handkerchief. "Now that you mention it, I suppose that is rather odd." Harry rolled his eyes as the headmaster continued, "However you must consider that Mr. Weasley's ardor was fueled strictly by the sight of Miss Parkinson's assets."
"Enough, Headmaster," Harry snapped. "I get what you're saying-sorry I asked."
Dumbledore obviously did not agree. The old man's argument went on as if Harry had said nothing. "Likewise," he said, "Mr. Malfoy was only admiring the obvious skills and talents of Miss Weasley. After all, since his breakup with Pansy Parkinson, he has held nothing but grudges and disgust toward the young woman.
"According to a group of Ravenclaws, their relationship apparently went afoul when Mr. Malfoy harassed Miss Parkinson in a dark broom closet (a favorite amongst the older students it seems) with a can of whipped topping. Of course, Mr. Malfoy claims it was simply a muggle gesture of endearment. I also heard from a group of Hufflepuffs that their terrible break-up had nothing to do with whipped topping but the fact that it was not Pansy in the broom closet with Mr. Malfoy..."
"PROFESSOR!"
Dumbledore stopped himself with a chuckle and looked up. "Another question, Harry my boy?"
"No! I mean-you were rambling, sir." Harry leaned over, cupping his forehead in his hand once again. "I really care nothing about Malfoy's love life-honestly, sometimes I think my own world is just an imaginary land for fan girls who love redeemed bad boys. Could we just get on with the story?"
"Whipped topping?" Dumbledore asked.
"No! Please, no," Harry begged. "We were discussing our current Emperor's New Clothing situation."
"Ahh, yes," Dumbledore sighed. He smiled fondly leaning back in his chair and grasping his hands over his chest. "Where were we? OH, the Clothing Council! I believe Miss Granger was just about to take the stand..."
Ten hours, forty-three minutes, and twenty-seven seconds since the de-invention of pockets
Miss Granger's account of events was not going well. Every statement she made was countered by an offensive remark from a parent. Hermione groaned, throwing her hands in the air. "How many times must I tell you, Mrs. Longbottom-Professor Snape did not force us, the student body, to take our clothes off. He made a suggestion which I took advantage of, that is all! Honestly, does Professor Snape look like Michael Jackson to you?"
Neville's grandmother opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. Frazzled, she shot, "Who is Michael Jackson?"
Hermione shook her head. "The point is--."
"The point is, Miss Granger," Professor Snape interrupted, placing two fingers on her elbow (since apparently the elbow was the only safe place for one being to touch another without a sexual harassment case). He stood up, taking Hermione's place for the moment. "The point is that I am the one who made the suggestion for the students to participate in a streaking protest for House Elf Rights."
Gasps echoed from the Knickers Huggers' side of the room.
Dumbledore raised a hand to quiet the parents. "Professor Snape, you said earlier today that you did not take responsibility for the actions of Miss Granger and her band of followers."
"As if I would admit to being the cause of complete and utter chaos?" Snape snapped. The professor took a calming breath and attempted a smile that made half of the parents wince. "I can no longer forgo that responsibility. I did make the suggestion; however, this is not exactly what I would classify as streaking. I may have been an inspiration for this nudity campaign but full credit goes to Miss Hermione Granger." Snape stood up taller and Molly Weasley squeaked at her sudden full frontal view of the Potion's Master. "And I proudly shed my clothes for her!"
A war cry erupted from behind Snape. The students were cheering for their most disliked professor. Minerva McGonagall blinked back amazement, as did the rest of the faculty. Never had they seen the students so united over one cause. This was greater than the tuna surprise ban of '57, more momentous than the march for chocolate privileges of '74, more electrifying than the failed attempt to host an Ozzy Osbourne concert in '84.
"As enlightening as that declaration was," Lucius Malfoy said, quieting the crowd, "it did not convince me that the students should be allowed to run about in the nude."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Malfoy," Arthur Weasley said.
Hermione stood up, pushing Professor Snape to the side. "But House Elf Rights! Don't you understand how important this is? This is about freedom, not whether or not body parts should be shown." She took a deep breath, her face flushed. "It is too late for us to turn back. In the short time since we began shedding clothing, we have grown to be a colony of students and teachers," she smiled at Snape, "united under one cause. We are Hogwarts. We are a Nudist Colony, and nothing any of you say or do will change that."
The Great Hall was silent as the groups digested Hermione's passionate declaration. A single clap was heard, slowly at first and steadily becoming faster. Hermione looked up to see her headmaster standing with a smile on his face. The old man's clapping died out and he turned to the Knicker Huggers. "Unity, Minerva, unity. How can we question that?"
Professor McGonagall's nostril flared and she shook her head. "You were right, Albus. We are going to lose this one."
"Excuse me? Is there a brain cell left between you?" Lucius Malfoy shouted. "The school council-the one that actually counts-will be the final word on this matter, not you, Headmaster! And let me assure you, they will not approve of this, this orgy you call a school."
Dumbledore held Lucius's glare. "Tell me, anyone, what does the school council regulated handbook say about our dress code."
("We have a school handbook?" Ron asked.)
McGonagall frowned. "Students are required to purchase school robes for each upcoming year..."
Hermione threw a hand up. "HOWEVER, THE SCHOOL HANDBOOK SAYS NOTHING ABOUT ACTUALLY WEARING THEM!"
Dumbledore's grin reached his eyes and they sparkled at her resounding echo. "Indeed, they do not. And, if my memory is correct, the handbook cannot be reevaluated for another two years at most. I believe you and the school beneficiaries will have to take up that matter at a later date."
Lucius Malfoy's eyes shot daggers, but he slowly took his seat, unable to argue the point.
"Students." Dumbledore turned his attention to the nude teens at the opposite side of the room. "Before we can come to a rational decision, we must hear all points of view. You have heard what the 'Knickers Huggers' have said about the matter, and we have all heard your points. But you are leaving out one final group-perhaps the most important group of all. You have forgotten the House Elves."
Hermione's mouth opened. "Oh, no..." she muttered.
"I believe," Dumbledore added, "that they should have a say."
Hermione looked to Snape who nodded once to her. "Yes, Headmaster, you are entirely correct."
Dumbledore looked to the side doors and called out in a very Father Christmas-like manner, "Dobby! Winky! Souper! Clivebarker! Kitchen aids, janitorial services, and interior decorators!"
Hermione expected the House Elves to appear before the council immediately but a moment passed and nothing happened. At last she heard the doors creek open. Elves flooded in from both sides of the room, walking slowly and chattering amongst themselves. Hermione smile in surprise and burst into laughter. The House Elves were nude, in their birthday suits, completely devoid of rags and pillow cases. In fact, all they wore were underpants over their heads, their flopping ears sticking out of the leg holes of boxers, briefs, and various pairs of knickers.
"Mistress Hermione!" shouted a squeaky voice. Dobby popped up out of the crowd, waving frantically. "Mistress Hermione, let Dobby have the extreme pleasure of introducing the Boxer Rebels."
Hermione's eyes widened, and she turned to the Headmaster. "But..."
Dumbledore looked back at the group. "Perhaps I forgot to mention this-I freed all of the school's House Elves this morning, right before breakfast."
Part 8: Unity through Nudity
"Of course, Miss Granger was very much shocked by this declaration," Dumbledore continued. "I doubt I have ever seen her so abashed-it was as if she had gotten a question wrong on an otherwise perfect exam."
"Excuse me..."
Dumbledore chuckled, eyes gleaming with the recent memory. "You should have been there. Her face lost its color, as did the rest of her, and her eyes were as wide as saucers. She looked very much like a younger Minerva."
"Excuse me, Professor."
"And then," the headmaster laughed, "she opened her mouth, and, in a shaky, high voice, she said..."
"EXCUSE ME!"
Dumbledore blinked back shock and raised a white, bushy brow. "Dear me-my boy, are you quite alright? You look as if you recently encountered Dark!Harry in a foreboding cave of boggarts on Dagobah."
"What?" Harry asked, dumbfounded. The boy-who-lived shook his head as if to move furniture for one last slice of insanity. "Professor, I hate to interrupt again, but...I have to go."
"Go?" Dumbledore frowned. "I don't believe you have any classes this evening."
"No, I need to use the restroom," Harry explained.
"That was what the intermission was for," Dumbledore stated.
Harry tapped his foot furtively before jumping from his seat. "Well, I have to go now!"
He ran out the door before his headmaster could say another word. He was quite certain that there was a lavatory somewhere down the hall, and he was not at all disappointed. He ran inside, half unzipped as he rushed to relieve himself in the urinal across from him. He sighed at the release.
"Come on, Draco! You can do it! Don't tell me your going to give up that easily. That's it, mate! A little harder!"
A frustrated growl echoed throughout the restroom and Draco Malfoy's voice pierced the air. "I just can't do it, Ron! No matter how hard I strain. This just isn't working."
Harry's eyes widened, and he turned slowly, expecting the worse was yet to come. However, it seemed that 'yet to come' would refer to another moment in time, possibly one in the far future but not at the moment. And although that sentiment made absolutely no sense whatsoever, Harry was happy to see, not something 'yet to come', but his friend Ron standing, still nude, against a toilet stall door. Apparently, Draco was inside that very stall, suffering from intestinal pains.
"Oh, hello, Harry," Ron greeted, a bored expression on his face. "Decided to take that intermission after all, I see."
"Bloody ponce," a voice echoed from behind the stall door. "So, Potter-or Harry as I should be referring to you since we're all so intimately acquainted now..."
"Actually," Ron interrupted Straining Dragon, "Harry hasn't taken off his clothes yet."
"What do you mean 'he hasn't taken off his clothes'? Did Dumbledore not finish the story?" Draco asked.
"Well, obviously not," Ron answered. "That's why I referred to it as an intermission. Intermission refers to a break in a story or movie."
"A movie?"
"It's a muggle thing."
"You two have been in here this whole time?" Harry asked.
"Actually, Potter, we had to stop and have the lemon drop removed from my eye socked first. Don't tell me you forgot about that? Thankfully, there was no permanent damage." Draco appeared out of the stall walking toward the sink to wash his hands. He dried his hands on a cloth and turned back to Ron and Harry. "Are you ready to hear the rest of the story."
"Yeah." Harry walked to the sink to clean himself up.
"Well, it went like this," Draco began.
Eleven hours, two minutes, and twenty seconds after the conquest of the knickers
Hermione ignored everything that she'd said and turned around to face Professor Severus Snape, her eyes alight with passion. "Oh, professor, forgive me for ignoring your needs. However shall I make it up to you?"
Snape smiled. "Well, you could fall into my arms and begin snogging me to death and rubbing your ample bosoms in my face."
Hermione giggled and jumped into the potion's master's arms. "How I would love to! Why, you're the most handsome man alive-other than Draco Malfoy. I dare say that if he was not snogging Ginny in the row behind us, I would let him take me here and now and wrap myself around his god-like body of chiseled ice and..."
Mystery Bathroom
"MALFOY!"
Draco grinned. "Alright, maybe that's not quite what happened; however, it did make a great story. I think I'll sell it to that muggle Hugh something."
Ron shook his head. "Draco, you're such a joker. For a moment, I was contemplating smashing your bloody nose in, but then I realized that I've fallen into a passionate relationship with Pansy and I no longer need to fight for Hermione's nudist dignity."
Harry looked as if he could very well smash Draco's face in at any moment, but Ron took his arm and led him and Draco out of the bathroom toward Dumbledore's office.
"The headmaster can finish the story. Honestly, though, I don't know why you're hesitating, Harry. You seem to be very well equipped-you have nothing to hide."
Harry gulped, hurrying to fasten his pants and hide his very equipped self. He walked into Dumbledore's office, and the wizened wizard grinned from ear to ear.
"Now that you have relieved yourself, perhaps we can continue?" he asked. Harry nodded in reply. "Well, when we left off..."
Eleven hours, two minutes, and twenty seconds after the unfolding of Snape's brilliant scheme
"Perhaps I forgot to mention this-I freed all of the schools House Elves this morning, right before breakfast."
Hermione's jaw dropped at her headmaster's declaration. "But, sir, that means that this whole ordeal has been for nothing!" she cried.
"No, my dear," Dumbledore answered, his wise eyes smiling. "Your actions, the excessive nudity, have served a greater purpose. Though freeing the house elves was an honorable goal, I assure you that you would never have succeeded through taking off your clothing."
Hermione frowned as if she had made less than perfect on an exam.
Dumbledore continued. "However, you have managed to accomplish something far greater than I ever dreamed of being able to do."
Draco raised a hand quickly. "Introduce free love in a conservative society?" he asked.
"Burry Snape in a pile of knickers?" Ron pitched in.
"Sew fifty pairs of socks overnight?" Molly Weasley asked, regaining consciousness.
Dumbledore raised a hand to dismiss the questions. "You, Hermione Granger, have united Hogwarts. Our houses have served to divide the students since they were established, but you have managed in only a short time to tear down those boundaries. Look around you, Miss Granger. What do you see?"
Hermione turned around full circle, taking in the scene behind her. Her friends and enemies stared back at her. There were no Ravenclaw huddles or Hufflepuffs hiding or Slytherin stuck-ups or Gryffindors smirking. "Students," she whispered. "People united under one cause."
"Indeed, Miss Granger. That is what I see as well."
She looked back at her headmaster. "Then you had this planned." Accusing eyes met Snape's. "And you! You knew that the house elves were free! You baited me!"
Snape kept a cool demeanor. "I found out after your little performance this morning. Dumbledore did not inform me of this unique opportunity until later. That's when I decided to strip for the cause." Hermione's eyes showed him her hurt. "However, I would have never been able to do it without your help with the.." He cleared his throat before adding, "make-up. It was all you, Hermione."
"I don't know what to say," Hermione whispered.
"Yes, you do," Dumbledore insisted.
Hermione let a smile slip onto her face. She looked at the dumbfounded parents and the Knicker Huggers. They, she realized, had the look of defeat in their eyes. They knew that they were losing. She turned to the house elves. Dobby and several others nodded with huge smiles on their faces, urging her on. She did not have to look behind her to know that her friends were silently cheering.
She opened her mouth and screamed as loud as a hag having moles removed, "UNITY THROUGH NUDITY!"
Part 9: Shock and Awe, Not
"I liked my ending better," Draco said, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward to elbow Ron. The Weasley let loose a goofy grin and nodded to the blonde.
Dumbledore raised a brow in question, but did not ask what ending the two were referring to. Instead, he turned to Harry. "That's the tale, my boy. However, though somewhat overdue, I must inquire as to how you spent your time over the past few days."
"Oh." Harry hung his head, ashamed that he hadn't brought the subject up when it was still fresh on his mind. Plus, there was also the imminent danger and peril involved with that slice of information in which he had not yet disclosed. "I tried and failed. I thought I could take him, the sooner the better, but it didn't work. However, I did learn something of great importance while I was away. This should have been the first thing out of my mouth when I arrived, but I was...distracted at the time."
"You took it upon yourself to go after the Death Eaters as well, did you not?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded sorrowfully. "It did little good, but I was winning. I had them down, but my mind was elsewhere."
"I assume that you had decided that fulfilling the prophecy was not as important as, say, delivering a certain piece of valuable information to the school?"
"Wait a second," Draco interrupted. "There really was a prophecy?"
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked.
Draco looked at Harry suddenly. "Neo, you are the chosen one."
Harry raised a brow. "Isn't that from a muggle movie? You said you didn't know anything about movies?" He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of a dozen unimportant questions. "Headmaster, you act as if you already know what I'm going to tell you. How can you let the students go frolicking around in the nude if you already know Voldemort's plan?"
"He also let us go to a muggle theater last weekend. We had to oblivate the attendants so that they wouldn't call the police," Draco said sagely. "And all sixth and seventh years are attending a Green Day concert next month...So, yeah, we're doomed."
Dumbledore raised a hand to stop Draco and Ron's interrupts. He looked down at Harry, smiling softly. "Yes, Mr. Potter. I know of Voldemort's plan, but he does not know of ours."
"Or at least we don't think that he knows what we know about what you know about what he knows," Ron explained.
"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued. "We have a plan of our own. Voldemort wishes to make a frontal attack, raiding the castle at a random, undisclosed time (random being seven thirty this evening)."
"Tonight? But you haven't raised any wards, and half of the Order members are not at the school. What exactly is your plan, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore stood in pale, wrinkled, and silver haired nudist glory. "We shall use a full frontal assault as well." He laughed at Harry's confused (and now somewhat disgusted) expression. "Excuse the upcoming, vague plagiarisms to come, but we have a great strength amongst us that we will be able to use to overthrow the Dark Lord. But we can only achieve this if we stand united as one. We are missing but one part of this living weapon. You are that piece Harry Potter.
"When the time comes, you must make an important choice. You can either let Voldemort destroy every one you know and love and the world you live in, or you can follow the path of light and surrender your pants."
Draco smirked. "But no pressure."
One hour, two minutes, seven seconds after Dumbledore proposed his plan to The-Boy-Who-Has-Yet-To-Take-Off-His-Boxers
The Great Hall, long since reverted back from its Council Chamber décor, was full of laughter and chattering students. The volume did not lower when Dumbledore and Harry entered, but heightened. Peaceful chaos seemed the oxymoron of the hour as nude students of the dissolved Houses and most of the faculty mixed at various tables to discuss the fact that Harry Potter had returned still in his robes. Even a few elves were scattered amongst the crowds, knickers still firmly placed over their ears.
In fact, only the main table remained mostly empty. Professor McGonagall remained in her usual seat, arms crossed to cover most of her bare top. Snape and Hermione were at the far end of the table as well.
"Harry!" Hermione screeched, interrupting whatever Professor Snape had been divulging into her ear. "We were wondering when you'd be out of Dumbledore's office. I haven't seen you since this morning...Harry, you're still dressed?"
"Ehh." Harry attempted a lopsided grin, focusing his eyes above her neck. "You seem to have been busy, uniting the school and all."
"And to think," replied a cold voice. "She accomplished it entirely without the aid of the Golden boy." Snape smirked at Harry before turning away and drawing Hermione's attention back in one fell swoop.
Harry chose not to comment on either one of those statements. Apparently, one could take the brooding from the man but not the man from the brooding. "No, seating arrangements?" Harry asked his headmaster. From the corner of his eye, he watched Ron and Draco run out from the door toward separate tables where their new love interests awaited them.
"There is no need for them." Dumbledore patted him on the back, guiding him to a seat. "In fact, we have much more to talk about, so you might as well have a seat beside me."
Harry sat down, feeling somewhat awkward facing the many tables of his classmates. The evening meal was already waiting on the table, still warm. Harry realized that he was quiet hungry and began to dish out his own plate. He felt eyes on him and turned to see McGonagall's pursed lips and steady eyes looking over him, obviously upset that he was allowed to keep his precious clothing and that she was not.
"Well." Dumbledore made a clicking noise with his tongue to draw attention from his own table. "It seems our guests have arrived a bit early," he said in a hushed breath.
"Wretches," McGonagall muttered.
Snape's eyes flew up, and he whispered something (besides a sweet nothing) into Hermione's ear. The young witch stood suddenly and walked away from the faculty table, gesturing as she made her way across the Hall. Most of the students ignored her, but a few individuals perked up, crossing the room to take positions along the walls. Harry realized that every one of them belonged to the Flashing Brigade. In a matter of moments, students were drawing wands from beneath their tables and from leg holsters (where else could they store them?).
"I believe I'll go check on the arrangements for dessert. Care to join me, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry meant to question him, but when the two 'well' aged and properly wrinkled professors stood, he could do nothing but force his eyes away and repress a gag. When he finally caught his stomach, he looked back to find them gone. Snape had also disappeared-in fact, Harry had lost track of every faculty member who had just moments ago been scattered amongst the students.
"They're leaving us!" Harry whispered, panic washing over him. "What the bloody hell are they thinking, trusting the fate of wizard kind to a bunch of nude and hormone driven adolescents?"
Harry, expecting some kind of an answer, looked from side to side. However, the only reply he received came in the form of an explosive doom as the front doors flew off of their brackets and fell soundly, shaking the Great Hall. From the cloud of dust entered a shadowed figure in black robes holding a wand out from his hand as if it was an extension of his arm. Men in masks filtered past him, forming a semi-circle around their master.
"My life sucks," Harry muttered, pulling out his own wand.
Lord Voldemort smiled wickedly, his slit like nose flared as he stared directly ahead at the table where one Harry Potter stood alone. "Who says one can't come home again?" he asked, aiming his wand.
It was perhaps then that the Dark Lord noticed that he was completely surrounded by a group of nudists.
Part 10: How the Dark Lord Got His
The bright lights of the cameras blinded Harry for a moment. He should have expected a large turn out, but somehow, he wasn't prepared for the rumors to reach so many so quickly. Dumbledore certainly hadn't told him how large the crowd was when he'd shoved him out the door onto the steps before the school's entrance.
"Mr. Potter! Over here!"
Flash.
"Oi! Potter, give us a pose!"
Flash. Flash.
"Harry!" A few feminine squeals of delight rang out. "HARRY! You're my hero!"
Flash. Flash. Flash.
The photographers died down, giving the reporters a chance to swarm forward. Thankfully, Ministry personal had arrived earlier to contain the situation. Harry was happy that someone had sat a podium on one of the upper steps because it was presently the only thing keeping him from toppling forward. He gripped it tightly, swallowing anxiously. As far as he could tell, his first meeting with the press was going quite well, though that was sure to change once he opened his mouth.
"Mr. Potter, is it true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone for good?"
"As far as we can tell..." Harry began.
"But how did it happen?"
Harry let out a short laugh. "It's a funny story actually..."
"Potter, are you wearing any clothing?"
"Why are the students naked?"
"Was it Mrs. Peacock with the wand on the quidditch field?"
"What?"
"When will the Headmaster be ready to appear?"
"Whose plan...?"
Harry raised a hand to stop the stream of questions. "My fellow peers and the faculty have decided that I should be the one to explain to the public what actually happened earlier this evening here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
The young wizard wiped his brow nervously. "I honestly don't know why-I'm not very good at storytelling. Anyhow, as I was saying, it's quite a funny story. Lord Voldemort had planned for a quick victory, but Headmaster Dumbledore had made plans of his own. With a bit of teamwork, we were able to ensure that Voldemort most definitely got his in the end..."
One minute, twenty seconds since Voldemort's rather embarrassing realization that naked teenagers were both somewhat intriguing and quite frightening.
"This is...unexpected." Voldemort glanced the students, his aim wavering somewhat.
Harry took the opportunity to point his own wand, strangely enough, at his robes. The Chosen One took a deep breath, staring at the Dark Lord. "Indeed it is," he said in reply. Voldemort opened his mouth to speak, but Harry interrupted him. "And, theoretically, this wasn't what you were planning for either."
With a tap of his wand, Harry's clothing disappeared, from his socks to his undershirt. Voldemort's eyes widened in shock and horror as he stared at the young wizard. He looked from side to side as even more nudists appeared. The Death Eaters seemed just as confused.
"Destroy these nubile fools," Voldemort hissed in disgust.
Behind them, screams issued through the entry way to the Great Hall. Three Death Eaters, apparently on watch, ran past the door, tripping over their feet as a large, nude Hagrid chased after him. Harry grinned realizing where the faculty had gone.
His grin faded when a flash of green zoomed past his ear. The hall was suddenly filled with flying hexes. Harry crouched, ready to defend himself, but he soon realized that the Death Eaters were dropping like flies, stunned and falling without being able to fire a single curse. The distraction had worked!
A cry of victory ran out as Hermione stuplified the last Death Eater. Voldemort ran out of the crowd of nudists, fear in his eyes.
"Get him!" Ginny Weasley shouted, raising a fist in the air. The students shouted, running toward the Dark Lord.
Voldemort turned tail in that moment, fleeing toward one of the side doors out of the Hall. Harry, closest to the exit, chased after him, a few hundred similarly naked students close at his heels as they ran through the castle.
Almost close enough to touch the dark wizard's robes, Harry did not notice where Lord Voldemort had led him. The Dark Lord turned, firing a hex which served to push the group back. He reached up suddenly and touched a portrait of a fruit basket, running his fingers over the pear. A door handle appeared, and he wrenched it open, running inside. Harry ran after him, stopping when he entered the kitchens.
Lord Voldemort raised his wand once more, and Harry threw himself to the floor. The pear door slammed shut with the curse's impact. Harry could hear the students outside, banging on it. They would be inside in minutes, he was sure. Voldemort ran to the opposite side of the room.
It was then that both Harry and Voldemort took a moment to recognize what was so different about the kitchens. Most obviously, there were no elves present, all of them with the other nudists, but Harry found it quite strange that there was a huge mixing bowl the height of at least three men sitting at the center of the room where there were normally four tables to represent the Great Hall. The bowl had a stair case wrapped around it, presumable so that one might reach the top and stir the great ladle hanging over its wide rim.
"That's odd," Harry stated. "Do you smell bananas?"
Voldemort looked away from the bowl giving Harry a distasteful look. "Chocolate banana pudding," he hissed.
"Really? I haven't had that in ages!" Harry grinned, simultaneously jumping out to the side as the killing curse flew his way.
"I will kill you, Harry Potter!" Voldemort all but growled.
Harry began to aim his wand, but thought better of it. "You can't kill me that way, and neither can I defeat you with a wand alone."
"Watch me," Voldemort gloated.
Harry ran toward the bowl, as the Dark Lord prepared for battle. Propped beside the stairs were two huge spoons at least half as tall as the young wizard. Harry picked up one of the utensils and took the steps around the bowl two at a time.
"Have you gotten a new wand?" Harry called down.
Voldemort, writhing in anger, grabbed the other spoon, running after the wizard. "I have not."
"Neither have I. They're brothers. One can not defeat the other. We will have to do battle another way unless you want to stop by the wand shop first. I was honestly expecting swords or some ultimate weapon. Perhaps even the (insert rainbow effects here) power of love," Harry explained.
"And you're telling me this why?" Voldemort asked reaching the rim of the bowl. Harry stood on the other side of the rim, almost slipping in a gob of chocolate that had spilled over. Between the two of them awaited a small pond of tropical smelling chocolate. Harry raised his spoon with both hands, holding his wand against it.
"Because I want you know how you're going to die, Voldemort."
"It will be you who dies tonight!" Voldemort shouted.
"No, it will be you," Harry yelled back.
"No, you!"
"You!"
"Potter, I will spoon you to death if it's the last thing I ever do," Voldemort raged.
"Spoon me to death? That doesn't sound right."
"We're using spoons, idiot." The Dark Lord shook his head. "Nevermind!" Voldemort laughed wickedly. "Take heart, Potter. Your little friends will soon join you in death. After they are torture for days in and have begged for my mercy, of course."
"Could you get any more clichéd? Fight me already, you bastard!"
Spoons flew through the air, sparks flying as they met. Blows were exchanged; both opponents struggled to keep their balance. Finally, one utensil was released, falling to the kitchen floor with a clatter. Harry slipped, weaponless, and fell, grabbing hold to the rim, desperate to pull the rest of his body over the side.
Voldemort smiled at him, his red eyes glimmering. He dropped his own spoon down into the pudding, holding his wand out at the defenseless wizard. "Say goodbye, Potter."
The Dark Lord stepped to the side, eyes suddenly wide as his feet flew out from beside him. Voldemort let out a strangled cry, toppling into the chocolate. His body disappeared below. A moment later a hand shot out of the pudding, grasping at the air. The fingers curled, leaving a thumb sticking up. Slowly, all that was Lord Voldemort sunk down into the chocolaty depths.
Harry threw a leg over the rim, catching his breath. He looked across from him and saw that which had for so many years been the bane of Voldemort's existence: a banana peel.
A memory that should not have existed was now playing through Harry's mind in flashes of images from the past. His mother giving her life for him...Voldemort stepping forward to deliver the killing curse...The Dark Lord's foot slipping on the banana peel that his mother had dropped when she had been interrupted while making chocolate banana pudding...Voldemort spitting out a foul word as his curse ricocheted off the off-centered bull's-eye on the toddler's forehead, hitting the Dark Lord in return...
"Go figure," Harry shrugged.
The pear-shaped door flew open, and students flooded into the room, as did the professors and house elves. Harry stumbled down the steps off the bowl to meet them. Hermione was walking toward him, Snape closely following her behind.
"What took you all so long?"
"Dumbledore said that we should let you finish it alone," Hermione said with an apologetic smile. "It is finished, isn't it?"
Harry looked over his shoulder at the bowl. "I dunno...It was only pudding. Of course, he could have drowned. I'm just not sure."
Snape looked up with an arched brow. "He fell in? Then I am quite certain he is gone for good. The Dark Lord was allergic to chocolate."
"No wonder he was so angry at the world," commented a voice. Harry saw Ron appear and smiled brightly at his friend.
"So, evil's defeated," Hermione stated. "What now?"
"Well, Harry's got a fan club waiting in the Great Hall. Quite a few ladies were impressed with you," Ron said.
"With my defeat of Lord Voldemort?"
"No, mate," Ron laughed.
Draco appeared beside the red head, a smirk on his face. "I told you that you had nothing to hide. I suppose I can call you Harry now, since you've been so intimately introduced to the world. For real this time."
Harry looked down at his naked self. "I'm nude."
"Brilliant deduction," Snape sneered. Hermione elbowed the professor and playfully grabbed his arm, leading him away from the rest of her friends.
"So what do you think? Breezier, isn't it?" Ron noted.
Harry grinned. "I actually feel quite giddy right now."
"We can tell, mate," Ron replied.
"How can you not be?" Draco questioned. "Who isn't happy when they're naked? It's impossible to stay upset. Maybe the Dark Lord should have tried it."
Harry looked up to see Dumbledore approaching him. "Right you are, Mr. Malfoy. If Tom Riddle had embraced his freer side, perhaps the hate that fueled his evil powers would have faded long ago."
The group nodded sagely.
"Now all we have to do is get the world to take off their clothes," Ron said with a smirk.
"Sounds like fun. Let's start with the Ministry," Harry suggested. "One day, nudity shall unite us all."
END
That's that, Ladies and Gents. Have fun scraping your brains off the wall. And remember, "UNITY THROUGH NUDITY!"