Generation X - Autumn Term
Part Two
(29th October- 20th December)
McGonagall tacked up the last of the posters she was holding and stepped back to admire her work. Smiling in a satisfied sort of way she set off down the corridor. This year, she vowed, the Hogwarts Christmas Pantomime would be a success.
The Hogwarts Amateur Dramatics Society
are proud to present
CINDERELLA
A Pantomime with Song, Dance and Fun for all!
Auditions held on 2nd November at 4:00 in the Great Hall. Only 6th Years need apply.
***
The Great Hall buzzed with the sound of excited chatter as most of the 6th year gathered for the Pantomime auditions. Hermione nervously re-adjusted her extremely tight-fitting ball-gown and took off one of her authentic glass slippers to massage her aching foot. They really were tight... but, she reminded herself, beauty knows no pain. She saw Ron throwing a few admiring glances in her direction, but chose to ignore him. He didn't look particularly dashing in his tight P.E shorts and a baggy T-shirt that read something like, 'Ali G - innit!' Hermione did not try and fathom what that meant. Probably something vulgar.
Hermione jumped when she heard the loud voice of Professor McGonagall calling for silence. Her teacher took out a long list of names and called 'Abbot, Hannah' to the stage. Hermione tried in vain to conceal a catty smile as the portly 15- stone Hufflepuff shuffled onto the stage. Her smile turned into a raucous laugh when the idiotic girl proceeded to mumble her lines before popping out of her dress and falling into the Orchestra Pit. What sounded like a very painful collision with a drum-kit ensued. When the clanging and laughter died down, McGonagall cleared her throat and began to call up all the others from the list. There were a few lacklustre performances by hopeful Prince Charmings, a couple of ridiculously ugly Cinderellas and some badly-tuned sounds from the Orchestral section before it was Hermione's turn. She walked gracefully up the steps to the stage and indicated that the spotlight should be aimed at her. The jewels on her outfit glimmered in the spectacular lighting effects provided by some Ravenclaw boys as she launched into the plaintive strains of the opening song. The hall fell into hushed silence as her perfectly clear, pitched voice rang out. She was only interrupted by stifled sniffles and wails from some lame Hufflepuffs and a few bitch Ravenclaws as they realised they would never match her performance. As she trilled out the last notes, she allowed herself a wide, self-satisfied smile that showed off all her pearly-white teeth before descending from the stage to tumultuous applause. Only one person seemed to have anything derogatory to say about her spectacular display. A foot clad in a high-heeled, steel-toed Gladrags boot connected sharply with her bare ankle as she sauntered past the Slytherin section of the Great Hall.
"Oops. Sorry!" lisped Pansy Parkinson, shaking her sheet of blonde hair in an offhand manner and not sounding sorry at all. Then, in an easily audible stage whisper, Pansy remarked to her companion Millicent Bulstrode, "If you ask me," which nobody did, Hermione fumed, rubbing her ankle which was now blossoming into a nice, purply bruised colour, "some of these performances have been so... overstated. Totally over the top. A load of old rubbish!"
That, Hermione thought, was a matter of opinion.
Neville fumbled his way through his audition, finally bursting into tears as he attempted to dance jauntily around the stage for the fifth time. Try as he might, he could not get the two-step right, and McGonagall was making him continue to practise it in front of the jeering crowds gathered in the Hall.
After a few more hopefulls, it was Harry's turn. He came back from the stage looking pleased with himself, and when Ron's turn was finally over, they left, not wishing to witness any more of the talentless warblings that continued to echo from the large room.
***
A seething crowd of jostling 6th years wrestled with each other to get to the large notice board at the foot of the Great hall.
"I did well good, I did! It was, like, booyakasha an' dat, innit!" Ron remarked of his performance at the auditions.
"Well, I don't fuckin' care, do I? It's only a fuckin' play. There are more important things, i'nt there, like, life on the streets, an', like, drugs 'n that." Dean Thomas' attitude to life had been greatly changed ever since he'd gotten to like Eminem.
After the crowd had dispered, most people muttering disappointedly, Hermione (who had been lingering at the back) got a clear view of the board. It read,
CINDERELLA Hermione Granger
PRINCE CHARMING Draco Malfoy
BUTTONS Harry Potter
FAIRY GODMOTHER Rubeus Hagrid
UGLY SISTER #1 Vincent Crabbe
UGLY SISTER #2 Gregory Goyle
EVIL STEPMOTHER Lavender Brown
COACHMEN Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan
MESSENGER FROM PALACE Parvati Patil
ASSISTANT TO PRINCE CHARMING Neville Longbottom
KING AND QUEEN M. McGonagall and A. Dumbledore
HOPEFUL PRINCESSES All other girls who auditioned
VICAR Ginny Weasley
PANTOMIME COW - FRONT Ronald Weasley
PANTOMIME COW - BACK Pansy Parkinson
Hermione smiled with satisfaction as her eyes travelled down the list. She snorted when she saw who would be accompanying Ron as the back of the Pantomime cow. Sure enough, a blood-curdling shriek echoed down the corridor as the girl herself appeared at Hermione's elbow having just spied the cast list. Pansy turned to her, her usually wide blue eyes reduced to malevolent slits.
"You'll pay, bitch. One day, you'll pay." And with that, she stormed off, shaking her hair in a way she hoped was sufficiently menacing. Draco, who was waiting at the end of the corridor for his longtime girlfriend to return, looked back at Hermione and gave her an apologetic smile, rolling his eyes in an I get that all the time kind of way.
He's easily rich enough to be a prince, Hermione thought, the trace of a smile flitting across her face, and he's certainly very charming. This pantomime thing was going to be even more fun than she'd hoped.
She rejoined Harry and Ron who were waiting for her down the corridor. Harry looked pretty pleased about his part, and Ron looked to be taking rejection well.
"Ya know, respect, 'nuff said, innit? You da man, Hazza! You da bomb! And I'm... da cow! Yeah!"
As they walked off to lunch, Hermione just caught Hannah Abbot wailing plaintively about her lack of a part.
"I thought I did quite well!" she wailed, sinking onto the floor and bursting into noisy tears. Ron turned around just in time to catch Dean and Seamus' eyes, and the three boys launched into a noisy rendition of 'Who let the Dogs Out?' Hannah's tears reached a crescendo as Harry, Hermione and Ron rounded the corner and went to have lunch.
***
Hermione collapsed into her seat in the Great Hall after another evening's strenuous rehearsal. This was the fourth week she'd had to squeeze into her costume every night, but she was loving every minute of it.
McGonagall and several of the other teachers and students had come down with a nasty bout of 'flu, meaning the teachers' table at the head of the Hall was unusually empty. When only Professor Snape appeared for dinner, Dumbledore moved onto the Gryffindor table and took a seat next to Ron. Cho Chang had moved over from the Ravenclaw table and was sitting next to Harry. Well, 'next to' is an understatement, Hermione thought to herself, scowling involuntarily. She's practically on his lap.
Hermione was just reaching for the jug of Pumpkin juice when she caught Harry whispering something absolutely disgusting to Cho, who snorted and blushed. Startled, she brought her hand back sharply, and accidentally knocked her goblet onto the floor. She ducked under the table to retrieve it and wished she hadn't when she saw where Cho had her hands. She'd never have expected it of the prissy seventh-year bitch... the slut, she thought.
Hermione couldn't help feeling a bit lonely. Lee was right down at the other end of the Great Hall, where a large crowd of boys (and Millicent Bulstrode) were gathered around him. He certainly seemed to be very popular these days...
But Ron was right opposite her... the chance was too good to resist. Two can play at that game, Miss Chang, she thought deviously. Kicking off her school boots, she ran her bare foot sensually up Ron's leg, pushing it as far up under his robes as it would go. Then she wiggled her toes. A few seconds later, he looked up at her, looking very red in the face, then down at his lap, then back at her again. She gave him the sexiest smile she could muster (which had been known to reduce grown men to tears on numerous occasions.) Ron grinned back, looking heartily embarrassed. Next to Ron, Dumbledore coughed. There were pink spots on his cheeks. He must have seen, Hermione thought. Oh well... and she employed the use of her other leg as well.
Five minutes later, Harry looked over at Ron. Ron looked at Harry, then at Hermione, then down at his lap again. Then he stood up abruptly, giving everyone at the table a clear view of the dark stain that covered his whole lap. He had spilt an entire bowl of boiling soup all over himself. That explained the embarrassed looks he had given her... and the looks he had been directing at his lap. But then... OH GOD. With a sickening sense of trepidation, Hermione gave her toes an experimental wiggle. Yep. Ron was gone; her leg was still resting on something. And Professor Dumbledore was looking at her in a whole new light. With all the dignity she could muster, Hermione got to her feet and left.
***
Draco signed the bottom of the letter he was writing with an extravagant flourish and gave it to his owl, Playboy, to take to his mother. He was running low on washing powder... again. Sighing, he got up and was just about to put a clean set of sheets on his bed when the door opened and Pansy burst in. Tears were streaming down her face and she was still wearing her half of her Pantomime costume.
"Pansy! What on earth's the matter?" Draco asked, concerned. Pansy really was very delicate, and needed someone to look after her at most times.
"It's... that Weasley boy! He's horrible! I HATE HIM! He trod on my toe fifteen times! And this outfit makes me look FAT!"
Draco grabbed her by the shoulders as gently as possible and steered her towards the bed. Then he remembered about the sheets and steered her away again. He finally managed to get her into her dorm and made her lay down and breathe deeply. This was difficult, as every few seconds she would burst into new complaints about her role in the play. Personally, Draco felt that Hermione made a far more appropriate Cinderella than his blonde girlfriend, who would never be seen dead in rags even if it meant she got the lead role. But he also felt that telling her this would not be a good plan. In an attempt to cheer Pansy up, Draco managed to produce some ice-cream from an unknown location.
"I can't eat it! I'll get FAT! Look at me... I'm UGLY!"
This was an utter lie; Pansy was almost invisible when viewed from side-on and Draco could easily carry her over long distances (which she frequently demanded.) With her wide, blue eyes, sheet of blonde hair and tiny, upturned nose, she was by no means ugly. In fact, she was the envy of most of the girls in the school after Hermione, who for some reason (probably her promiscuity) always emerged as being more popular. Pansy didn't care; with a boyfriend like Draco she hardly needed to play the field.
Draco reassured her that she was neither fat nor ugly. She finally gave in and told him to open the ice-cream.
"I'll tell you who is fat, though," Pansy remarked, lounging on her four-poster while Draco searched for some spoons. "Pavrati Patil!" Pansy purposely mispronounced her least favourite person's name, stressing the 'rat' especially, which infuriated the asian girl. Winding up Parvati was one of Pansy's favourite passtimes. "I saw her at rehearsals... she could hardly fit into her 'messenger from the palace' costume! She made one of the buttons pop off. She's fat, fat, fat, fat FAT!" Pansy giggled, relating this piece of news as though it had made her day (which it probably had.)
"Draco, stop fussing. We don't need spoons, anyway." Draco looked up in puzzlement, then understanding dawned and he bared his chest before trailing his finger through the top layer of ice-cream and running it sexily along his skin. With a sideways smile, he asked,
"Hungry?"
***
Ron sniffed his armpits. The 'Mr. Skower's Magical B.O Remover' seemed to be working. Despite the comments he had received about his sweat problem, he still really didn't think it was him causing the smell. He applied another coat of deodorant for good luck, and began to put on his robes when Neville sauntered in, a towel draped around his semi-naked form. Neville's eyes lingered on Ron's bare chest and legs for a moment, then he looked away, blushing. Ron shook his head, muttering, "poofter" under his breath as Neville tripped over his trunk and dropped his towel, baring all to the world.
Five minutes later, Dean, Seamus and Harry burst in, complaining loudly about the 'stink' outside and began their usual taunting of Ron for his 'BO problem.'
"Look, guys, it really isn't me! Sniff!" Ron protested, motioning to his armpits. Reluctantly, the boys all inhaled the squeaky-clean scent of Ron's armpits, (which, incidentally, really did smell like roses.) They were forced to agree that Ron wasn't the cause of the problem.
Stepping out into the common room, the smell was even worse.
"Gross!" Ron remarked. "Let's find out where it's coming from. I can't take the smell anymore!"
The boys set off down the corridor, following their noses. If the smell faded, they changed direction. As they went further down towards the ground floor of the castle, the smell got worse. Ron was wondering if it could be coming from the potions lab; some of Snape's concoctions were pretty foul-smelling. But the smell was more intense further down the corridor. They passed a stretch of damp wall, but then noticed the smell receeding again. They doubled back, pacing up and down until they located the spot where the smell was strongest. Pinching their noses, they stopped for a discussion.
"That is fuckin' minging," Dean muttered, bashing the wall in frustration and then trying not to show that he had grazed his knuckles.
"I know where we are," Ron said, remembering. "We're outside the Slytherin common room!"
Harry nodded; he remembered too, from when they had masqueraded as Crabbe and Goyle in their second year. Before anyone could ask any awkward questions about how they knew where the common room was, footsteps could be heard advancing down the corridor. Harry whipped out his invisibility cloak and they all huddled under it as Snape strode towards them. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Severus put his hand on a brick and muttered the password just loud enough for the boys to catch. Then he climbed through the hole that opened in the wall. When he reappeared a few minutes later (looking slightly green in the face) and had rounded the corner, the boys stepped out of the shadows and opened the hole in the wall for themselves. They advanced into the dimly lit dungeon room and were instantly hit with an overpowering wave of stench so strong that Harry wanted to vomit. The common room was empty at first glance, but the sounds of muffled chatter from behind closed doors betrayed the fact that the Slytherins were, in fact, all in there. Still wearing the cloak, Dean tentatively pushed open one of the dormitory doors, and was surprised to find that there was not trace of the smell in there whatsoever. He supposed that was what Snape had been in there to do; set up wards around all the rooms to block out the unholy stink. He hastily shut the door when he got an eyeful of the inhabitants of the room, who seemed to be attacking each other using some kind of ice-cream tub. Or something like that...
They advanced into the darkest corner of the common room and met with a horrific sight. Crabbe and Goyle, both topless, were sitting cross-legged on the floor. They had T-shirts wrapped around their heads in the style of turbans and were chanting some kind of mantra as they wove their arms into intricate patterns in the air. The incense that was burning could not muffle the reek they were emitting. It was too much for Harry. Pale and trembling, he grabbed Goyle's turban, and, doubling up, vomited into it. Wiping his mouth, he replaced the turban onto the top of Goyle's head. The overweight, sweaty boy didn't even notice.
"We've gotta do something!" Ron moaned, pinching his nose even harder. The others nodded in agreement.
*
After they had given both Crabbe and Goyle a thourough and rigorous rubdown using large quantities of soapy water and industrial standard scrubbing brushes, and Harry had been sick three more times at the sight of Crabbe and Goyle's naked forms, the common room finally began to smell a little bit better. Crabbe and Goyle were still chanting in deep concentration (something like 'filthiness is next to godliness') but at least they didn't stink any more. Ron sprayed the last of his deodorant around the room before they hurried out into the corridor. Their job was done.
***
A furious and almost silent fight was in full swing behind one of the shower curtains in the girls' changing rooms. A small hole that had been made in the middle of the nylon material was the only viewpoint to the communal area outside where a horde of female quidditch players were showering off after a difficult evenings' practice. Since experiencing Harry's coveted invisibility cloak first hand, Dean and Seamus had been keen to try it for more... entertaining purposes. Ron, of course, had been keen to join in.
Now the four of them were jostling for a place at the peephole and were making more noise than was wise. In fact, at that moment Angelina walked dangerously close to the cubicle where they were hiding and looked suspiciously at the empty space where a pair of feet should have been, before passing them by and beginning to strip off. Seamus, who had possession of the peephole, moaned appreciatively at the sight of her lithe form.
"It's my turn," Ron hissed. Harry protested, claiming that it was now his turn. Dean, who did not go for discussion as a way of solving arguments, shoved Seamus roughly.
"Get the fuck out of my fuckin' way!" Dean exclaimed vehemently. His forceful push sent Seamus sprawling out of the cubicle and across the floor, where he very visibly skidded to a halt between Millicent Bulstrode's beefy legs. Screwing up his eyes in revulsion and also in the vain hope that maybe he would wake up somewhere that was not quite so incriminating, he lay quite still while the girls around him squealed and tried to cover themselves up. Not so for Millicent. Slowly and deliberately, she reached down (at which Seamus screwed up his face again, feeling that he would have to try very hard not to vomit right onto her) and picked him up by the scruff of his neck. Seamus emitted a high pitched squeak as she slammed him against the wall. The next thing he knew, a large, hairy fist was heading for his face, and the Irish boy knew no more.
Once Alicia had regained her composure, she wrapped a towel around herself and whisked aside the curtain of the cubicle where the suspicious noises had been coming from. But in the commotion, Harry Ron and Dean had slipped away leaving Seamus to fend for himself. In the end, a kindly sixth year ravenclaw girl heaved him out of the door, still unconscious.
After the comparative success of the shower room escapade, Dean and Ron were hungry for more experiences of the same kind. Harry refused to let them use his cloak again; he didn't want to lose it. They would have to formulate another plan.
***
The Great Hall buzzed with chatter as the Gryffindor 6th years filed in to dinner. Hermione dropped into a seat next to Lee Jordan, who smiled at her and began to converse animatedly about the thrills and spills of Quidditch Commentary. Hermione's huge smile became rather fake after five minutes of nodding and 'really listening' to everything he was saying. Harry, Dean, Seamus and Ron found seats at the far end of the table where they could talk without fear of being overheard. The only other boys near them were Neville and (inexplicably) Ernie Macmillan. Dean nudged Harry and muttered,
"What are they, fuckin' poofs or something?"
Harry looked around to check that nobody was listening, then leaned forward and replied,
"This is strictly on a need-to-know basis, right, but... yeah. Nev told me in the showers a couple of weeks ago."
"Showers? You'd better watch out, Harry. I reckon he fancies you!"
"Shut up!" Harry hissed, "he'll hear you! And you have to promise you won't tell anyone. His cousin is 'Big Burt', you know, the one who was a 7th year when we were first years? He'll kick my arse if he finds out people have been teasing Neville."
At this dismaying news, Dean assumed his most sincere face and promised on his mother's life that 'nobody would hear it from him.' Seamus swore he'd take it to his grave. Ron muttered something about 'cross my heart and hope to die' but Harry made him start again when he discovered Ron's fingers were crossed. He was halfway through the vow for the second time when he stopped abruptly. He seemed to be fighting some kind of painful internal struggle, which it only took him a few seconds to lose miserably.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I just can't!" And with that, Ron leaped onto the table and shouted for silence. He had put the 'sonorus' charm on his voice, and it echoed loudly. All around the hall, heads snapped up. Hermione looked particularly pleased at the distraction. With another wave of his wand, the lights dimmed and coloured spotlights illuminated the table like a stage.
"Cue the music!" Ron yelled, and the opening strains of a popular disco hit began to blare.
"All together now!" and as magical streamers fell from the ceiling, Ron launched into the chorus with the whole hall singing behind him. Complete with the appropriate hand actions.
"YMCA! NEVILLE IS GAY!" It even rhymed. A spotlight shone right into Neville startled face. He burst into tears, but nobody heard because they were too busy singing and laughing. Ernie Macmillan put an arm around Neville and led him out of the hall to appreciative cheers and whistles. Hermione, who hadn't known, was laughing so hard her tears were in danger of smudging her eyeliner. Neville directed a hurt look at Harry before a fresh wave of tears overcame him and he ran out of the hall, Ernie in hot pursuit with longing and sorrow on his face.
When the hall had returned to comparative quiet, Dean stood up and took a deep breath to calm himself.
"I've, er, gotta go. Important business, ya know..." and he wandered off. Harry wondered where he was going, but Seamus and Ron were exchanging knowing looks. Harry thought it better not to ask. He might not understand, and that would be embarrassing.
*
Hermione was getting more and more irritated. All Lee could talk about was Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch. Even Ron had better conversational skills. But Lee was obviously really popular... so far this evening, eighteen people had requested that he came over for a 'quiet word, or a 'little chat.' They had all been boys (except Millicent Bulstrode) and had all used the same quiet, conspirational tone. Hermione wondered what it was all about. Maybe a gang... or a secret cult... or a band of rebels... she sighed dreamily. He was so... mysterious. She thought she might be falling in love. And he was so good looking... OK, so he was about as exciting as Birmingham Bullring on a wet Wednesday, but she didn't care... that wasn't the sort of thing you worried about, when you were in love...
Dean wandered up, looking slightly suspicious. He seemed to have something under his robes that he was trying to hide. He glanced at Hermione in a puzzled way, before leaning down to speak to Lee.
"OK, I've got the stuff. Where's the goods?"
"Look out, will ya mate? Not here... I've got company, can't you see, ya dick'ead?"
"Oh, sorry mate. But... do you think...?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be with ya in a minute. Hold on."
Lee pecked Hermione on the cheek, and before she had time to ask exactly what Dean meant by 'goods', he had stood up.
"Gotta go, babe. Duty calls. Be good, won't ya?" And he strode off to join Dean.
Wow... he's so, like, refined! Hermione thought. And he's got a secret... how mysterious, how exciting! She resolved to discover what it was he was up to.
She leaned back in her seat, losing herself in a blissful reverie about her and Lee's life in the criminal underworld... when a horrible stench wafted past her. Parvati Patil was walking past behind her, carrying a bowl of... eurgh! Rice Pudding. And was that... Horseradish Sauce? Hermione surveyed the mess in the bowl with disgust. How could she eat that? Intrigued, Hermione watched as Parvati sat down (it was a tight fit; she could barely fit under the table) and begin to dip french fries into her already revolting combination. Feeling nauseous, Hermione sat fascinated. Parvati quickly finished the bowl and went back to get second helpings. Come to think of it, she remembered that last week, she had seen the girl eat chocolate biscuits piled high with salad cream... she shuddered. It was probably some weird Hindu custom... Hannouka? Eid? Divali? Hermione had never been good at Religious Education at her muggle primary school.
*
When Lee failed to return, Hermione got up and left the great hall. She was just making her way down the corridor when Parvati hurried past, as fast as she could go. She was accompanied by a strange wailing sound that turned out to be coming from a siren attatched to the back of her head. A sign on her robes read 'wide load.' Hermione wondered who could possibly be so cruel when the impossibly thin answer came tearing down the corridor, shreiking with laughter and pelting Parvati with Fizzing Whizbees.
"FAT! FAT! FAT! PavRATi is FAT!" Pansy called as she danced along behind the waddling girl. Woe betide anyone who became Pansy's arch-enemy. Even though she didn't really like Parvati, Hermione felt very sorry for the poor girl. Nobody deserved to be victimised by Pansy Parkinson that badly. She had to do something. She grabbed Parvati by the shoulders and ripped the siren off of her head. Unfortunately, she was a little forceful and a clump of Parvati's hair came with it. Hermione gulped guiltily and hastily stuck the hair back on with a badly executed glueing charm. Hopefully Parvati wouldn't notice the sticky mess that had once been several feet of glossy black hair. The removal of the sign was much more successful. Hermione promised Parvati (who was now in tears,) that she would be back soon to talk to her. Now to get rid of Pansy.
Hermione strode over to the blonde waif and tapped her on the shoulder. Pansy whipped around, narrowing her eyes when she saw who had spoiled her dance of triumph at infuriating Parvati yet again.
"Um, like, Pansy? Hermione began, "your hair... there's um... well..." that was all it took.
"My hair?" Pansy shrieked, running her hands over her sleek blonde mane, "there's something wrong with my hair? AAARRRRGGGGGH! DRACO! HELP ME!" she wailed, and ran off down the corridor in a frenzy.
Hermione returned to Parvati, and led her into the girls' dormitory. Then she sat her down and looked her straight in the eyes.
"Parvati? Are you, like, pregnant?"
Parvati's dark eyes spilled over with tears as she nodded almost imperceptibly. Hermione felt that this would be the appropriate moment to pull her into a girly, comforting hug. Wow, she thought, I'm getting glue, like, on my nail varnish, and I don't even care! I'm such a good samaritan!
"It's OK, Parvati. It's good that you've told someone. Now..." she extricated a tissue from her pocket and handed it to Parvati, "dry your eyes, and I'll fix your hair up. There's no need to worry." While Parvati dried her eyes, Hermione quickly rejoined Parvati's beautiful long hair back onto her scalp and combed it through. Then she wound it into a neat plait and fastened it with a glittery butterfly. "Much better. Oh, um... do you know who the father is?"
"Yeah," she said shakily. "It's Blaise Zabini. It was at one of Lee's parties. You know... where all the 'rough crowd' hang out. I was there with Lavender, and we got separated. I was very, very drunk, and I guess it just, sort of... happened. He was really nice at first... he said... he said I had 'killer legs', and he wanted to photograph them... I was such a mug. I'm not proud of myself. I don't know what... what my parents - what my parents will..." she began to cry again. Hermione embraced her, feeling sorry but also excited. Lee was even more dangerous than she had thought. She would have to find out when he was planning on having another of these 'parties', and infiltrate it. She remembered seeing Blaise at dinner; he'd been one of the crowd eager to speak to Lee. He hadn't seemed so bad... quite good looking, in a 'goth' kind of way. Boys like that weren't really Hermione's type... not that she was particularly discriminating. And something about the cheap line he'd used to chat up Parvati was scarily familiar...no. She was imagining things.
It was Parvati's fault she had behaved so irresponsibly. A girl like Hermione could easily have taken care of herself in a situation like that. She patted Parvati on the back and asked the most important question of them all.
"So... are you going to keep the baby?"
"I - I have to," she sobbed. "It's a disgrace in my religion to have an abortion. I guess the baby will have to live at my parents' house. There's no way I can support it. And I need to continue my education so that I can get a job... to pay for the baby..."
Hermione was about to recite one of her facts; that Britain had the highest percentage of teenage pregnancies in Europe and that they should be helping to reduce this number, but Parvati looked determined. And hell, it wasn't her job to interfere. Let her suffer... Hermione didn't really care. She'd done her bit by sympathising and asking all the customary questions. She supposed she could have 'paced anxiously' a bit more, but she hadn't wanted to overdo her reaction.
"Well, if you're, like, sure. You'd better go and speak to Madam Pomfrey. She'll be delivering, I assume?"
"I - I suppose," Parvati whimpered. Hermione could tell she hadn't really thought this through.
"Well, off you go," Hermione prompted. "She'll be able to help you a lot more than I have." Cue praise, she thought.
"No, you've been great, Hermione, honest. Thankyou for being so kind. Not many girls would understand."
Hermione assumed her 'modest' expression as Parvati went in search of medical attention. This would be the perfect chance for Hermione to exact revenge on Pansy. And she knew exactly when and how she'd do it. Not yet... the time was not yet right.
***
Harry recited the last incantation and the one-way window was complete. He scrutinised the wall of the girls' shower room for any sign of his handiwork - no, it looked completely normal. There was no sign that there was in fact a window there that connected with the boys' changing rooms. He, Dean, Seamus and Ron were planning on observing the girls from a safer distance this time, and this was the ingenious plan they had come up with. They would be able to watch everything through a large window, but they would be completely invisible from other side... he hoped. He checked it one more time. It seemed that he'd done everything correctly... now he could leave. He looked around for the invisibility cloak before remembering he'd decided not to bring it. He reached for the door handle, but froze seconds later. Was that the murmur of voices he could hear? He stood totally still, listening. The voices were getting closer... he could make out what they were saying. Unmistakeably female voices... getting louder.
"God, I'm hot. I really need a shower!"
"This year, that Quidditch cup is ours!"
"No way... Ravenclaw are so gonna win!"
"Yeah, well at least we know Hufflepuff don't have a chance!"
"Hey!"
Harry opened the door a fraction, decided against going out when he saw almost twenty girls advancing down the corridor, then ran back into the shower room. He looked at the wall in desperation, shrugging at the blank space from where he knew Dean, Seamus and Ron would be watching. He flapped about, running around in circles because his brain could think of nothing better to do. As the door swung open, he forced himself to dive into one of the cubicles and swished the curtain across just as a crowd of sweaty girls began to divest and step under the streams of hot water. How on earth was he going to get out of this one?
*
Dean attatched the bit of parchment to Pigwidgeon's leg and sent him off out of the changing rooms.
"What're you doing, Dean?" Seamus asked curiously. He was munching popcorn which they had prepared especially for the occasion.
"I'm sendin' an Owl to Lee Jordan. He said he'd 'make it worth my while' if we tipped him off about this whole 'arrangement.'"
"Hey, look! What's Harry doing?" Ron asked, pointing at Harry. He had frozen by the door and seemed to be very scared about something. Then he ran back into the room.
"God knows," Dean muttered. "Silly wanker. Look at 'im. Now 'e's runnin' round in circles like an 'eadless fucking chicken!"
Harry shrugged desperately at them before diving into a cubicle. Because they couldn't hear what was going on in the other room, they didn't know that the girls were about to burst in. When they did, the boys cheered appreciatively, forgetting momentarily about Harry's predicament.
*
Twenty minutes later, Harry was worrying less about the danger of discovery and thouroughly enjoying every minute of his 'front row seat.' But new horror washed over him when Katie Bell remarked,
"There's someone in that shower with shoes on!"
Angelina sauntered over to the curtain and peered under it so that she too could see Harry's feet.
"Are you alright in there?" she enquired.
Harry's mind was working very quickly. He was completely panicked. At least his voice hadn't broken yet. He had to say something, otherwise they would certainly look in and all would be lost. He swallowed, and then putting on the highest, most feminine voice he could muster, replied very quickly.
"Yes! I'm fine! Just worried about catching veruccas!" He waited anxiously for how this would be received. Angelina and Katie exchanged looks, and Katie muttered, "Probably a Hufflepuff" before wrapping her towel around her and stepping out of the shower. A load more girls came in from their Quidditch practise. Harry started to wonder if he'd possibly maybe get out of this with nothing more than an exciting tale to tell the lads.
*
The door of the boys' changing room burst in and Lee Jordan swaggered in. He was followed by Colin Creevey, who had a video camera as well as a normal photographic camera slung around his neck.
"This is my assistant, Colin," Lee said to the boys by way of introduction. "And he will be filming today's escapades." Then, catching sight of the 4ft by 8ft. window Harry had erected, exclaimed "Crikey O'Reilly!" and sank into one of the front row seats, grabbing a handful of popcorn. Then he reached into one of the numerous pockets on his robes and extricated a bundle of notes as well as two videos with blank cases. He peeled off five of the notes which he handed to Dean along with the videos.
"Use them well," Lee instructed with a wink, "and remember my 'secrecy policy.' You ain't seen me, right?"
"Whatever," Dean said. He was staring at the screen which by now was full of 'bathing beauties.'
A few moments later, however, the door opened again. The boys froze, expecting a teacher. But instead, what looked like the whole list of Lee's 'clients' came in, whooping and cheering. Several of them had brought cans of butterbeer, and something that looked a good deal stronger.
Dean looked at Ron.
"Ron, what the fuck has that fuckin' owl gone and fuckin' done?"
Ron shook his head mutely. He had no idea how Pig had managed to cock this one up. The large crowd behind them were being very noisy, and through his nudity-inspired trance, Ron had time to worry that they might be discovered. To solve this problem, he whipped out his wand and quickly made a sound barrier all along the wall. His peace of mind restored, he went back to enjoying the show. All concern about Harry had vanished for the present.
*
Pig was very confused. Boy, what a night that had been. He'd had three 'all night seed binges' in as many days, and it was taking its toll. But Playboy really knew how to organise the best parties... his lapse of concentration meant he flew into a stone wall. It was very painful. Pig picked himself up. He had to find Leejordan - student number 0867. If only Hogwarts would keep still. It kept moving. Hang on... why were there three Hogwarts'?
He had to get to a nest, and fast. Through his blurred vision, he thought he saw a likely looking bunch of twigs. He made a hasty and clumsy landing on the 'nest.' Luckily, it turned out to be a mass of matted hair. With a hoot of relief, Pig realised that by coincidence he had found Leejordan. He delivered his message. Lee's face lit up when he read the note attatched to Pig's leg.
"Well done, little fella," Lee praised. "Now. Go back to Dean. Back to Dean. Got it?" and Lee hurled the tiny owl over his shoulder. Pig tried valiantly to stay airborne. But he was so heavy... it was no use. His wings gave up flapping and he blacked out.
*
George Weasley trod on something small and fluffy. It hooted feebly. With a shock, he realised it was Pigwidgeon. George scooped up the tiny owl and saw that there was a note attatched to its (broken) leg. He removed it and scanned the page. Like Lee's had before him, George's face lit up. He showed it to Fred. It read,
URGENT! For a bit of Christmas Cheer, be in the Boys' Changing Rooms at 7:00 p.m. For mature viewers only. From Dean.
This was all they needed to hear. Fred pinned the notice to the wall while George found a dumb first year willing to take Pig back to the owlery to recuperate. Then they headed for the changing rooms, rounding up their friends en route.
*
The Boys' changing room was full to bursting with excitable students. It seemed the whole of the school's upper years had accepted the impromptu invitation. However, there were only a few girls left in the showers now, and they were mostly reserves for the Hufflepuff and Slytherin team. A few people began to leave. Alicia, Angelina and Katie wandered in, and tumultuous applause, wolf whistles and cheering greeted them. They stopped short when they saw the huge screen, squealed in alarm and turned around to go back and warn the remaining girls. When even Millicent Bulstrode had been convinced to abandon her shower, it seemed they had lost their audience. Angelina returned minutes later.
"Right, we've warned everyone. Show's over, folks. Off you go!"
Grumbling disappointedly, several students turned to go. Seamus, however, called out.
"Hey! Someone else is coming in! It's Cho Chang!"
A huge cheer went up; Cho was easily one of the best looking girls in the school. The girls stood transfixed in horror as she started to remove her clothes. Being the Ravenclaw captain, she had stayed behind and missed the warning about the rigged shower room. Alicia opened the door and was about to leave, but suddenly stopped. Something very interesting was happening on the screen, and suddenly she decided Cho would want to be left alone. Smiling deviously, she joined her friends and settled down to watch the developments.
*
Harry sighed with relief. All the girls had gone at last. He pulled back the curtain and stepped out of the cubicle. He was already looking forward to being hailed as a hero by his friends on his triumphant return to the Common Room. He halted in alarm. It seemed there was a latecomer. Panicking once more, he dived back into the cubicle and hid, paralysed with fright. Cho Chang entered, looking dishevelled and sweaty, but still delicately pretty. He squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of Dean, Ron and Seamus seeing his girlfriend-of-sorts naked. He really should warn her... but wait. Doing that would mean revealing himself. And he couldn't do that... Cho musn't know, or she'd never speak to him again. She turned on the water and stepped into the shower. Even in his awkward position, Harry couldn't help letting his eyes linger on her... she really was beautiful. His legs were wobbling... he must not be discovered.
Cho let the water soak her hair. It really needed a wash after all the hard training she'd been doing. Damn. She'd forgotten her shampoo. Aha; there was one person still here.
"Hello?" she called out. "Hey, do you have any shampoo? I've forgotten mine!"
Harry didn't know what to do. If he replied, Cho would certainly recognise his voice. So he kept silent in the vain hope that she would give up and maybe even go away.
"Hello? Are you OK in there?" Still there was no response. But Cho could see feet underneath the shower curtain. She'd better go and have a look; they might be hurt, or worse. Cautiously, she walked over to Harry's hiding place. She looked under the curtain. Yes, there was definitely somebody in there. Why were they wearing robes? Were they mad?
"Hello?" she tried for a final time. A strangled gurgling noise came from the other side of the curtain. Harry felt near to nervous collapse.
"It's OK. I'm coming in to help you," Cho reassured the mystery figure. Nervously, she pulled back a small corner of the curtain. Harry couldn't move. He just had to stand and watch as she pulled back the curtain, watch as her face fell and then clouded with anger at the sight of him.
"Harry! You bad boy!" she reprimanded.
"Oh, God. I'm sorry. I - I should go. I'm sorry. What was I thinking?"
"Well... you have seen me," Cho pondered. "Strip."
"Strip?" Harry squeaked.
"Slowly."
Harry gulped. His three friends were watching... little did he know that there were closer to three hundred students eagerly watching his every move.
*
"What are they talking about?" Ron asked. It was very annoying not being able to hear.
"I have no idea," Dean murmured. He was watching transfixed.
*
Cho wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel and sat down on one of the benches in the changing rooms. She paused for a moment in thought, then waved her wand in the air. Tinny, trashy dance music filled the small room.
"Perfect," she said, grinning. "Now dance!"
Harry stood perfectly still for a moment. He did not know that his reputation at Hogwarts was hanging in the balance. It was make or break time. And he didn't know which way he was going when he started to untie the belt of his robes. Luckily, they were the kind which crossed over rather than pulled over his head. He didn't think that would look very sexy.
He slipped the robes over his shoulders and exposed his underclothes. Damn. I knew I shouldn't have worn one of Dudley's old vests today, Harry cursed. He tried to dance a bit more in time to the music. He whipped off the vest and was left only in his boxer shorts.
They had little snitches on them; they had been his birthday present from Hermione. The gift tag had read 'Maybe one day someone will actually see them.'
*
Hermione remembered this with a smile as she sat next to Lee watching Harry's adventures. It was actually quite ironic.
Colin kept taking pictures, and Dean was using the video camera. Hermione wondered exactly what they were planning to use them for. Of course, that was only known to one Mr. Lee Jordan. But Hermione couldn't know any better. After all, she was in love...
Lee had whooped appreciatively at all of the girls so far, which left Hermione feeling jealous and more than a little inclined to join the Quidditch team.
Blaise Zabini was leaning against the window, staring hard at Harry. Then he exclaimed,
"That guy's in my Potions class!" Crabbe and Goyle nodded. Then they began to chant.
"Go potions boy! It's your birthday!"
Hermione sighed. Had everyone seen that film?
*
Harry ran the dirty grey vest sensually between his legs as the music grew more frenetic. Cho seemed to be enjoying herself.
"More, more! You bad boy!" she called.
Harry was wondering whether he was supposed to take his boxers off. Why wasn't there a book that told you about these kinds of things? But he was enjoying himself too much to really worry. Hell, he didn't care if three of his best friends were watching. Dammit, he wouldn't care if three hundred people were watching! Which was lucky.
"Now, come to me," Cho purred. Harry was all too willing to oblige. He sat down next to her, wondering what was going to happen next.
Cho pushed him onto his back and rolled over on top of him. This took him by surprise...but before he could enjoy the experience of having a naked girl on top of him properly, the door burst open and an irate McGonagall stormed in followed by Professor Flitwick. They stopped short at the sight which greeted them. They blinked several times. McGonagall pinched herself on the arm. Then on the other arm.
"Ouch," was the first thing she said. Then she passed out. Tiny Professor Flitwick was swaying on his feet. Harry felt he should do something. He stood up.
"It's not what it looks like," he said, but Professor Flitwick was looking at Cho, who was now totally exposed in her nakedness. Then he, too, passed out.
***
"I would never have expected this of Hogwarts students!" McGonagall ranted. Harry and Cho were now both fully clothed. Harry's face was the same colour as his Gryffindor sweater. Cho just looked bored. She couldn't believe Harry still owned that dorky jumper. Christ, it was bobbly. And it made him look fat. She'd have to get him out of it somehow. She grinned. Shouldn't be too hard, she thought.
"I don't see what's so funny, Miss Chang!" McGonagall spat. "I would have thought I could have expected more responsible behaviour from you. At least you're old enough to know better."
Harry felt insulted. He was sixteen.
"Um, Professor?" Cho asked. "What exactly did we do wrong?" she had a strong suspicion that there were no school rules governing that particular type of extra-curricular activity.
Now it was McGonagall's turn to blush.
"I would have thought that was obvious. Do I really need to spell it out?"
"Er, yes." said Harry. After the insult about his age, he was keen to see his Professor squirm.
"Damage to school property. Abusing school facilities. And one case of indecent exposure."
Cho laughed. "Is that it?"
Harry couldn't believe their strict teacher would let them off that lightly. He was right.
"You will both have eight weeks' detention, which you will serve every night. Miss Chang has an additional three weeks because she was the one doing the exposure." Harry sat open mouthed. He had never received such a strict punishment. But McGonagall wasn't finished.
"You both lose your respective houses fifty points. And your detentions will be scrubbing the teacher's bathtubs. And the teacher's toilets. And maybe Dumbledore's back. Got that?"
They nodded mutely. Cho looked more angry than shocked. On their way out, she muttered,
"Maybe if you had a few boyfriends of your own once in a while, you wouldn't get so hung up about it."
"I heard that. That's another week you've earned yourself, Chang," McGonagall's voice followed them down the corridor and out into the grounds.
End of part two.
A/N: Please R/R this part! Hehe... too much American Pie is bad for us. And euuurrggh! Dudley's vest. Gross. Okay, on to part Three! Aurora and Drosera.