Wrote this in response to a challenge somewhere along the line. Don't recall if anybody else responded...

Cult of the Shorts

The Golden Egg fell from Harry's arms, forgotten in the rush of confused thoughts that followed opening the new and unfamiliar door Harry noticed in the seventh floor corridor.

He found the door while trying to escape from Filch and Snape after leaving the prefect's bathroom, where he had discovered the clue contained in the egg. Harry was certain there had never been a door here before, but, in his rush to escape the caretaker and hated potion's professor, wondering where the door came from took second place to ducking inside and out of sight.

Now he was paying for his haste.

Below him, in an amphitheatre reminiscent of the great colosseum of Rome, a strange and disturbing ritual appeared to be taking place.

Dozens of naked girls moved in a complicated dance, pivoting and encircling a life sized, golden statue standing proudly on a raised platform. Somewhere, drums pounded a hypnotic rhythm for the dancers to follow, their cavorting and twirling perfectly in time to the chest-thumping beat.

For a brief second, Harry managed to tear his eyes from the wonderful parade of naked female bits, and noticed the statue that was apparently the centre of attention.

It was of him. The statue was a life-sized, somewhat stylised, Harry Potter, and it was wearing a pair of his boxer shorts; a pair that had mysteriously gone missing a few weeks previously.

"Hail the mighty shorts of Harry," called a voice.

"Hail the shorts!" replied the crowd, not pausing for a moment in their endless movement.

Harry watched, entranced by the jiggling and bouncing. So hypnotised by the seeming acres of gorgeous pick flesh that he failed to notice the girls, one by one, stopping dancing to turn and face him.

"Look – it's him!" shouted a red haired girl.

"Hail Harry of the shorts!" called another girl.

"Hail the shorts!" responded the crowd.

"Wha- what's going on?" spluttered Harry.

"We love you, Harry," called a familiar voice.

Shocked at recognising the voice, Harry managed to raise his vision high enough to confirm what he already knew.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry."

"What are you doing?" he asked, managing to keep his voice from croaking.

"It's a bit complicated," answered his best friend, whose previously unnoticed, abundant assets where doing their damned best to distract him.

"Zere is nothing complicated about zit," said a stunning blonde girl in a heavy French accent.

"Fleur? But, but, you hate me, don't you?"

"Zat was before we learned you are no a leetle boy, eh?" answered the Beaubaxton beauty.

"You what?"

"We know what you are hiding under those short, Harry," said a girl Harry recognised from his first year Herbology class, Susan Bones. "Those magnificent, loose shorts. Hail the shorts!"

"Hail the shorts!" called the crowd, in an obviously spontaneous and reflexive reply.

"You what? How could you – when did you-?"

"Sorry, Harry," said a shorter girl, stepping out from the crowd. "I discovered your secret when you stayed at the Burrow."

"Ginny?" asked Harry, finally connecting the petite, redheaded beauty with his other best friend's younger sister. "You did what?"

"And then she shared it with me," added Hermione. "And it sort of got away from us once we got back to school."

"Enough of deese 'chit-chat'," snapped another Beaubaxton girl. "Show us ze shorts!"

"Show the shorts!" cried the crowd. "Show the shorts!"

"What? I'm not going to drop –"

"Sod that," called a blonde-haired woman. "I want to see what they're hiding from us!"

"No way!" yelled Harry.

"Get him," cried Pansy Parkinson, rushing towards the stairs leading to where Harry stood.

All thoughts of avoiding Snape and Filch abandoned, Harry turned and ran, slamming the door behind him as he fled, yelling his panic loudly.

"And that, gentlemen, is what you call a prank," said a sandy haired man, as he stepped out of a hidden alcove. "Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Padfoot?"

"Indeed, Mr Moony," answered a dark haired man, emerging from the same alcove. "And a very imaginative and well constructed request to the Room of Requirement, if I do say so myself."

"Take note, young apprentices," said Sirius. "Your request to the room must be precise, but open ended. Were you to simply have asked for a room filled with naked women to embarrass Harry, the scene may not have played out as well."

"Yes master!" said the two red-haired twins following closely behind. Both scribbled furiously in notepads as they walked.

"I love this school," whispered Fred to his brother as they plodded along behind their mentors.

"I am never going to leave," agreed George nodding furiously.

In the distance, they could still hear Harry screaming.

Finite.