A/N: I realise I already have a ridiculous amount of fanfics listed on my profile, so I'm going to put all my non-Draco/Ginny Harry Potter stories that I feel aren't big enough to be stand-alone works in this collection right here. Genres will vary, as will the characters used, but I'm thinking most will be humour (and probably quite ridiculous).

This particular one-shot was inspired by the fabulous Queen song Fat Bottomed Girls, which is also where the title comes from.


Fat Bottomed Girls

There was a reason why Dennis Creevey was placed in Gryffindor.

You see, there was one girl in the school who no male in his right mind dared to approach, let alone fancy – and that wasn't just because most people agreed she resembled a troll on steroids. But Dennis Creevey, though a small lad, was by no means perturbed by her less than winning appearance. What he lacked in inches, he made up for in courage – a courage that was certainly needed if he hoped to win the lady of his heart's affection.

For, you see, Dennis Creevey was head over heels in love with Millicent Bulstrode, the meanest (and largest) girl in the school, and it was a known fact that she ate small boys like him for breakfast.

Dennis sighed heavily as he thought of the Slytherin girl who had captured his heart. He had always had a fetish for large women, and Millicent quite stole his breath away with her towering (and extensively wide) frame. There was nothing more delicious to him than the thought of gripping that bulk and showing to her that broomsticks weren't the only thing he could ride well.

Alas, the girl in question did not understand the depth of his feelings for her. Just yesterday she had punched him in the nose because he had complimented her on her new robe (the forget-me-not blue had made her eyes stand out wonderfully). She had obviously assumed that he had been making fun of her, but he would have her know that he was not like those other idiots who were blind to her charms and only cared about silly twigs. Those skinny girls did nothing for him; it was Millicent that he wanted, and it was Millicent that he would get, even if it killed him.

Dennis ruffled his curly blond hair and then straightened his tie. He looked quite dashing, if he did say so himself. There was no way that she would be able to resist him, and, thankfully, the nasty bruise she had given him yesterday had all healed thanks to the caring hands of Madam Pomfrey.

He smiled charmingly at his reflection (just for practise), and then stalked out of his dormitory, looking very much like a boy about to storm a fortress. Considering Millicent's sheer largeness, this was not much of an exaggeration.

It did not take long for Dennis to spot his mountainous siren when he entered the Great Hall. Her reddish-brown hair was tied into pigtails, framing a face that was as plain as it was round, and her snarling teeth were bared as she snapped at Crabbe, who had dared to try and touch her blueberry pancakes. Dennis sighed happily as he watched her clout her fellow Slytherin around the ear. She was so adorable when she was angry. (Draco Malfoy, who happened to be sitting next to Millicent, thought that she looked like a rabid dog guarding its bone, but no one really cares about his opinion.)

"Come on, Dennis," Colin said grumpily, giving his brother a light shove. "You're blocking the way."

Dennis promptly snapped out of his daydream (a rather lurid fantasy that involved him as the pancake now being surrounded by those succulent lips), and turned to face his brother. "What?"

"I said you're blocking the way. Now hurry up and move; I'm starving!"

Dennis obligingly moved out of the way and took his seat at the Gryffindor table. He piled his plate up with food – eyes still fixed on Millicent – and was completely oblivious to the amused smiles being exchanged by his housemates. Everyone knew about Dennis's infatuation with the Slytherin girl, and though none of them could understand it, his attempts to win her affections certainly were entertaining to watch.

But Dennis was not stupid. He knew very well that Millicent liked to enjoy her breakfast in peace, so he decided to wait until she had finished eating before approaching her. His plan today was to take the bull by the horns and say outright what it was that he wanted. Subtle obviously had not worked, and paying her compliments had only resulted in bruises and nasty hexes. No, it was definitely time for drastic actions, and he could only hope that today she would be more receptive to his advances.

He spotted Millicent leaving the Great Hall, and immediately stood up and followed. She was with Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, which was a set-back, but he was not about to be stopped now by a bunch of giggling girls.

"Hey, Millicent," he called. "Wait up!"

Millicent threw a look back at him, and then rolled her eyes when she realised who had called out to her. Pansy and Daphne, much to his relief, kept on walking.

"What do you want?" Millicent asked in anything but a friendly manner.

"The pleasure of your company," he responded, giving her his best charming smile.

Millicent raised one eyebrow. "Not interested."

"Wait," Dennis said hastily, putting a hand on her arm to stop her from leaving. "There's something I wanted to ask you."

Millicent stared pointedly at his hand. Dennis reluctantly removed it from her arm.

"Look, Milly—"

"Millicent," she growled, glaring at him.

"Right, Millicent." He looked beseechingly up at her. "Do you want to go with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Millicent looked a bit lost for words. "What?"

"We could go to The Three Broomsticks, or there's Madam Puddifoot's, and then we could—"

"Are you actually trying to ask me out on a date, runt?"

Dennis ignored her choice of description, and smiled brilliantly up at her. "Yes, my sweet Millicent, I am."

"You must be insane."

"Not as insane as what you'll make me if you don't say yes," Dennis said desperately. "I'm crazy about you, Milly. Come on, just give me a chance. I promise you won't regret it."

Millicent considered him through critical eyes, taking in his curly blond hair, baby-blue eyes, and boyish good looks. Dennis knew that he was a bit on the runty side (okay, maybe a lot), but he was certainly not ugly, and he thought he had a winning personality.

He made use of that personality now as he gave her another charming smile. "What do you say, Milly?"

Millicent stared at him for a few seconds longer, and then she closed the distance between them, gripped his face hard in her large, almost masculine hands, and kissed him soundly on the lips. Dennis felt like he was floating, he was so elated. Then he realised that his feet actually had lifted a few inches from the ground. He inwardly smiled. Merlin, he loved his big women.

Still, despite Millicent's rather ruthless and dominating ways, Dennis was by no means a passive participant in this battle of kisses, and gave back just as good as he got. It was no surprise, then, that when they finally broke apart, both were more than a little breathless.

Millicent was the first to regain her breath, and smiled in amusement at his very ruffled appearance. "Meet me at the Entrance Hall on Saturday, runt. You can show me this coffee shop of yours."

"Yes, Ma'am," Dennis grinned, giving her a salute.

He watched her leave, and then joyously punched his fist into the air. It seemed that his lady-love had finally recognised his worth. Now he just had to persuade her to let him prove those broomstick skills of his . . .