Crabbe and Goyle shot each other secret smiles as they dressed each other in their Hogwarts robes. It was the morning after their adventurous night in the Room of Requirement, and they were as happy as two chubby cucumbers could be.

"Hehe," said Crabbe cheekily as he rubbed his bottom against Goyle's back. "You know you love it."

"Of course I love it," replied Goyle merrily. He tied Crabbe's belt around his waist, but had to do it twice because he couldn't remember how. "Let's go and get some pumpkin juice. I'm starving from all our exercise."

"Do you want me to feed you, Greggy?" asked Crabbe, pinching his nose affectionately.

Goyle giggled. "Oh, yes please!"

They skipped into the Great Hall hand-in-hand, boyish grins plastered across their faces. "Food time, Greggy!" Crabbe exclaimed in glee. "Our favourite time of the day."

"No," Goyle stopped skipping and whispered huskily into Crabbe's ear, "only our second favourite."

Crabbe's body parts throbbed in desire and anticipation. He shot his friend a seductive glance as they took their seats alone, at the end of the Slytherin table.

"Look Vincey! The pumpkin juice has turned a shade of dark yellow! I wonder what's different about it." Goyle rubbed his chin in thought. He wished his hands would be scratched because of this action, because that would mean that he would have stubble. But he didn't. So he rubbed his palm across Crabbe's chin instead.

"I bet you the Dark Lord has charmed it to give us special superpowers!"

"OK, let's drink all of it then! Here's a straw, Vincey. Come on, sip up." Goyle placed a wet sloppy kiss in between Crabbe's eyes.

Crabbe briefly contemplated putting his hands down Goyle's pants in return, but Draco strolled past the two touching each other and rolled his eyes. "Not again," he muttered.

Crabbe tipped his head back and swallowed almost half of the Pumpkin Juice with a gulp and a squeaky hiccup. "Wow, try some, Greggy! It's really nice!" He looked around for another straw, but none of the others were pink, so he let Goyle use his own.

Goyle stared affectionately at the straw and remarked, "Look, Vincey. It's a pink stick! Just like yours."

Crabbe struggled to contain his craving.

"C'mon, you love birds," Draco drawled from behind them. "We have potions class now."

Crabbe and Goyle reluctantly stood up from their seats and followed Draco to the dungeons, silently communicating to each other that they would meet in the girl's lavatories at lunch for more sweaty action.

They arrived at class two minutes early. The only other people there were Harry and Ron, who seemed to be silently snickering about something in the corner.

"You'll be making love potions today," announced Snape. Ron snorted, and Snape looked as though he was considering giving him a detention. Apparently not. "Not strong ones," he continued, "just enough to last several hours."

"Vincey! I can give you some love potion!" said Goyle, suddenly excited.

Crabbe shook his head, "I don't need any, I already love you, Greggy!"

Crabbe took a vile of leech juice and took a bunch of silverweed back to their table. The silverweed smelt badly of a mixture of mould and jelly. Goyle flattened his nose with his palm in an attempt to rid his senses of the unpleasant odour.

"They'll be getting much worse than that," Ron muttered indistinctly from two desks away. Harry snorted and tried in vain to contain his laughter.

"What's so funny?" asked Hermione, who had just arrived.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and managed to keep a half-straight face. "Oh, nothing..."

"What have you gone and done now?"

"Nothing!" insisted Harry, though he could not stop himself smiling. "Let's just make this potion."

Whilst Hermione cut up the silverweed, Harry and Ron tried to concentrate on stirring. It was difficult; they continued to spare glances two desks away, where Crabbe, Goyle and Draco were preparing their own concoction, clearly unaware of what was about to happen.

"Five, four, three, two, one..." Harry murmured, looking at the watch on his left wrist. "C'mon, it should happen any moment now..."

And suddenly, Crabbe and Goyle felt the most unusual sensation take over their bodies. Their stomaches rumbled and gurgled simultaneously, and suddenly, they felt themselves lose control of their bowels. They gasped widely at one another as poo after poo splattered from their bottoms, emitting loud and unappetising squeaky sounds in the process. But the poo would not stop. Crabbe and Goyle didn't know they had so much in them. They felt their pants gradually being weighed down by the new baggage in their underpants, and finally, with a soft pop their buttons broke off and their pants slid halfway down their hips.

Crabbe and Goyle regarded each other with horror. What had just happened?

After a few stunned moments, Goyle broke the silence. "I guess it's okay though," he reasoned discretely. "I mean, look on the bright side. We had been having awful bowel blockage issues."

Draco, still oblivious, was busy emptying the last of the ingredients into the cauldron when he suddenly looked up suspiciously and scrunched his nose in disgust. "What's that smell?" he demanded with a glare at the couple.

"Dunno," Crabbe replied guiltily, "probably the silverweed."

Harry and Ron were watching everything. They gave a loud snort and burst into a fit of laughter, clutching their sides and almost knocking the cauldron to the floor.

"Oh, really," snapped Hermione. "Calm down, I need someone to stir this!" She put her hands on her hips. "Come on, at least share the joke. What on earth is so f-"

But at that exact moment, a loud, ear-splitting screech rang around the room, so loud that it made Hermione jump. Harry and Ron briefly fell silent and looked up, realised what had happened, and howled into laughter again so loudly they fell over. Even Hermione was unable to suppress a smile.

Draco was staring dumbfounded at Crabbe and Goyle. They were both standing awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to do, because both of their pants were now wrapped around their ankles and filled with hot, steaming poo.

Snape placed his beady stare on the two guffawing Gryffindors in front of him. "Thirty points off Gryffindor for inappropriate behaviour," he said smoothly, before shifting his gaze to the back of the room as he wondered what by the name of Merlin was so hilarious that the two idiots felt obliged to disrupt his class.

His vision narrowed down to the two brown piles situated between Crabbe and Goyle's legs, which had enticing smoke spirals travelling out towards him. Snape froze as the smell made its way to his nostrils.

"Oh," he said, in a complete state of shock. For once, he was speechless. "I have to… I-I'll just get Madam Pomfrey," he sputtered out quickly, before dashing out the door with lips desperately pursed closed.

Crabbe and Goyle glanced at each other sheepishly. "Wanna go to the girls' lavatories now?" Goyle muttered.