You and Whose Army VI

"Harry Potter, what is the meaning of this?"

Madam Pomfrey was staring aghast as he led his army of little dudes into her infirmary one Saturday afternoon. He smiled and waved at her. "We're just here for a little bit of patching up. No big deal really."

"No big deal?" she scowled at him. "I see three bloody noses, two black eyes, and... is Mr. Macmillan's arm broken?"

"Just a little bit," Harry shrugged.

"It doesn't hurt though," Cuthbert added with a smile. "Harry used this spell to take the pain away. It was awesome."

"I am pretty awesome," Harry grinned.

"At least you know the numbing charm," the healer frowned as she escorted the first year Hufflepuff over to a bed. "Hold still for a moment and I'll have this straightened out for you."

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," Cuthbert said. "Harry, was right- you really are the best."

"Yes, well..." She got a little flustered and moved onto one of the other little dudes- Hugh was developing a pretty wicked shiner.

Harry didn't usually like kissing up, but having the nurse on his side seemed way too useful to not make a bit of an effort. And she was good at her job, from everything he'd experienced.

McG showed up at that point and strode into the chaos. "Harry, what on earth happened?"

"It was just a little rugby match," he replied. "But don't worry- I made sure they played clean. No eye gouges, no shots below the belt, you know, the usual."

"I suppose that was wise," she said as she looked around at more than a dozen of the first years. "But why was this necessary?"

"I'm in charge of physical education," Harry answered with a stern nod. "This is the last nice weekend we've got- I paid attention in Divination, you know? Parvati wouldn't let me goof off too much."

"Divination," McG grumbled. "Let me guess, Sybil has you doing weather forecasts?"

"Yeah, totally useful," he grinned. "We're supposed to have a blizzard coming in on Wednesday, so I wanted to let the dudes have some fun while they could."

"Alright, Harry," she sighed. "But be careful of the younger students. They aren't all as tough as you are."

"Most people aren't, I know."

Between the Potions debacle and the routine pounding in quidditch, Malfoy was more subdued than usual. He did mutter a lot about Potter, but that wasn't anything out of the norm. Daphne smirked to herself about it anyway.

Parkinson was back to her usual obnoxious self, but at least Daphne didn't have to deal with it too much. Pansy might have been a cranky bitch, but as long as she wasn't doing it in earshot, she wasn't going to suffer any further other than knowing that Harry had chosen the correct Slytherin witch to be one of his honeys.

Like clockwork, she had taken to eating with him four times a week- once at the Slytherin table (to the shock of many chagrined faces), twice at Gryffindor, and once at Ravenclaw. It was a nice schedule.

On the other hand, the public snogging was done whenever she claimed that Snape needed to have another lesson on 'not being a cunt.' Both Patils had laughed their heads off when Daphne had diagnosed his condition as such, while Harry had merely nodded in agreement.

The first three times, Snape had tried to give Harry detention- and his response had been some very arousing violence. Teeth had gone flying, the large hooked nose had been broken, and the final time, there had been a lovely popping sound as Harry had wrenched the greasy bastard's shoulder out of its socket as he tossed him aside.

Daphne may have snogged him extra hard that day.

As per the agreement, the first two times she'd joined Harry in a broom closet, Parvati had escorted them. Although calling it a broom closet seemed like a bit of a misnomer due to the spacial expansion charms, not to mention the bed that appeared if you tapped on the correct shelf.

It was a little surprising when the three of them had all ended up shirtless, but in a very good way. Her hormones approved, and Parvati had told her that if she came up with another amusing bit of torment that there would be a special reward. And for that reason, Daphne was now brainstorming in the restricted section of the library...

Padma had mentioned her dislike of a certain sixth year girl, so it was time to start sketching out a recipe for maximum embarrassment.

Percy Weasley sat down in his private quarters and relaxed as he sipped his afternoon tea. It was only a week until the Christmas holidays, and all things considered, he thought his first term had been a smashing success. Classes had gone well, he'd had no complaints over any of the student assistants- in fact, they'd all received glowing reviews from the younger years (all of whom knew that he would have assigned them more essays to write)- especially Harry Potter, who had gone a step beyond his responsibilities and started up some sort of physical education club.

It wasn't the sort of thing that Percy would have been interested in, but it did keep the children busy and therefore out of trouble. From what he'd seen, it was the term with the least disciplinary problems over the last fifteen years at Hogwarts. Whether or not he deserved the credit, he was definitely going to mention it to the minister. Fudge had scheduled a meeting between the two of them for the twenty-eighth, and he had finished sketching an outline of his progress.

A knock at his door dragged him away from his musings.

"Come in."

And there was the one biggest downside of this assignment- Albus Dumbledore.

"Good afternoon, Percy," the headmaster said as he swept into the room, closing the door behind him with a wave of his hand. His hand which was clutching a large paper bag. "I was just thinking that you might like a little treat before the end of term. I know we haven't had a lot of time to speak together, but I've heard only good things about your handling of Defense Against the Dark Arts this fall."

"Thank you, sir." Percy bowed slightly.

"I should thank you for your hard work," Dumbledore chuckled merrily with that ever present twinkle in his eye. "That's why I've brought some of my precious stash. I thought you might enjoy a little herbal recreation."

He pulled out a large porcelain device that seemed like some strange sort of cross between a pipe and a piece of sculpture (the unfortunate Mr. Weasley had never seen a bong before), and stuffed something in the end of it. "Would you like to try a little ganja? This is quite the nice batch, I must say."

"I don't smoke, sir," Percy refused.

"Are you sure you don't want to try it?" Dumbledore prodded. "You never know, you may like it. Why, if I never tried anything strange and new, I would have never had sushi. And that would have been a tragedy- one of the main reasons I've enjoyed my years working with the ICW is getting to take trips to Tokyo."

The headmaster chuckled as he produced a small flash of fire from one finger and deeply inhaled. "One hit won't hurt, Percy."

"No thank you, sir."

"If you must," Albus sighed. "When I was your age, I was much more driven and career focused as well. As I've gotten older, I've learned to enjoy my free time more. Did I ever tell you about the trip I took down to the Amazon rainforest? The native people there had some of the most fascinating magical procedures. Oh, and the concoctions I tried! It was such a marvelous time. In fact..."

And as the headmaster droned on and on, Percy Weasley sighed but kept his thoughts to himself. If only the magical world had prohibitions against recreational drugs- he didn't agree with his father's interest in the non-magical world in general, but he very much wished that he could 'bust' Dumbledore. Unfortunately, this year had been free from any major problems so far.

While that was a good thing in some ways, it also meant that he didn't have anything that Fudge could use to discredit Dumbledore. And that meant Percy was stuck trying to figure out what it would mean for the upcoming term.

"The ayahuasca was wonderful," Dumbledore added, Percy vaguely listening to the ramblings. "I hadn't felt so at peace since I was a boy. Oh, if only Aberforth had agreed to join me, I think it would have done wonders for his disposition. Alas!"

Percy nodded and wished he had some papers to grade.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, then we went over to Machu Picchu and..."

"Alright everyone, good work for today!" Harry called to a halt the last meeting of the term for the Lifting Army. His little dudes were starting to bulk up slightly and even Longbottom was well on his way to having some definition. "Let's hit the showers and I'll reveal a little treat before dinner."

The dudes, both big and small, all nodded, sweaty and tired as they headed to the locker room section of the magical room that had created their gym. Harry had to think that the Thicc Daddy would be proud.

"Dobby?"

The littlest of his dudes popped in with a huge smile on his face. "What can Dobby do for his best bro, the Great Harry Potter sir?"

Harry snickered to himself at the tiny biceps that the house-elf had sprouted. "Can you bring us the butterbeer in a minute? I wanted my minions to get to try it before the break. You know, like a little treat for all the hard work?"

"Hard work is its own reward!" Dobby shouted with glee. "But Dobby will bring in the sweet drinks for the Great Harry Potter sir's LA."

"Right on, dude."

Harry then quickly hurried to rinse off as well.

It was a happy (and very mildly tipsy) group of dudes that filed out of the gym that afternoon, bottles in hand as they made their way down to the Great Hall for dinner.

But Harry's trip was interrupted by a girl from Slytherin. And for once, it wasn't the likely assassin from the future.

"Potter, can I talk to you for a minute?" Milicent Bulstrode asked as she was waiting just outside the doors of the Great Hall.

"Sure," he shrugged. "What can I do for you, dude?"

Pausing for a moment as the rest of the dudes walked off, Harry missed the fact that Bulstrode had been eying one of them in particular. But his mind was on balancing out that afternoon's hard work with some play time with his honeys.

"I was hoping you could let me join your little group," Bulstrode said once they were alone.

"Huh? Oh, the Lifting Army?" Harry frowned to himself and looked the large girl over. She was the biggest girl in his year, nearly six feet tall and quite sturdy as well. But he'd never worked out with a chick before, and he had a feeling that could complicate things. "Maybe, but I'd have to ask the Thicc Daddy for some advice-"

"Please," she interjected. "I really want to get fit. Is this a problem because I'm a Slytherin?"

"What? No, I don't care about that," Harry scoffed. "I just think I'll need some advice about how to sculpt a routine for a lady dude, you know?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, like a lot of female bodybuilders end up with no boobs because they work their pecs so hard," he replied with a nod down to her impressive chest. Bulstrode crossed her arms and glared at him, but Harry just continued on. "I'll need to do some research to figure out how to deal with that issue. You know what I mean, dude?"

Her countenance changed and she smiled slightly. "I would appreciate it."

"Cool, why don't you tell me about your goals over dinner?"

And that was why a second girl from Slytherin ended up at the Gryffindor table that evening.

Daphne scowled at Bulstrode for a moment, but Harry was completely caught up in wondering about just what the process would be like to work with a girl for the first time while lifting. When Snape swooped in to bother them, Daphne caught Harry's attention though and made sure that she could snog him in the middle of the school.

Unfortunately, the greasy bastard had now taken to having flashbacks whenever Harry and Daphne kissed, so Snivellus ended up fleeing back to the staff table and muttering about 'Potter defiling her' to himself over and over throughout dinner.

Meanwhile, Parvati and Lavender were giggling and whispering to each other about the glances that Milicent kept shooting down towards Ron Weasley.

"Mister Potter," McG came over to speak to him once the meal was concluding.

"Hey, McG," he smiled. "What's up?"

"Where did you and your group get all the butterbeer from?"

"Oh, I had Dobby pop over to Rosmerta's."

"You didn't take them all there, then?"

"No, that would have taken too much time," he answered as he scratched his head. "You know, that might be a nice treat though, for next year. Thanks for the idea, McG!"

She sighed. "Harry, that's not what I-"

"I really should be the one to show the little dudes around," he nodded to himself.

"Oh, nevermind."

McG rolled her eyes as she walked off. At least he did seem to watch out for the first years fairly well. Still, she considered a trip down to the Three Broomsticks, just to warn the owner about a possible invasion of eleven year olds if nothing else.

A drink might not be out of the question either.

With his time turner in hand, Harry decided to stay up late that night and make a little trip down to Hogsmeade. McG had given him the idea, so he wanted to scope the place out and figure out the most important highlights for when he would take his minions.

Of course, he didn't want to do it in the middle of the night, so he turned himself back a few hours and wandered around the village during the evening.

He had just about finished up his troll when he saw McG stepping inside the Three Broomsticks. Harry remembered that he also needed to thank Madam Rosmerta for the delivery earlier that day.

A moment later when he went inside, he saw something that immediately sent his brain whirring. McG was talking and laughing over a drink with Rosmerta at the bar. He'd never seen her quite so carefree and happy.

Harry knew what this meant- it was time to put a twist in his long overdue plan to find McG a cool dude.

Maybe a cool, hot older lady was more her speed?

Minerva stiffened as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

"What's wrong?" Rosmerta asked. "You look spooked."

"I had a premonition of something-"

"I thought you didn't believe in Divination," Rosmerta laughed and took another sip of her whiskey.

"It wasn't like that, exactly," Minerva said with a frown. "Knowing my luck, it's probably young Harry getting into trouble again."

"That boy really is something, isn't he?"

Minerva rolled her eyes at Rosmerta's chuckling. "You cannot imagine what it's like having him at Hogwarts."

"Try me."

"Last year he started casting the Contraceptive Charm on himself everyday. At breakfast. In the middle of the packed Great Hall."

Rosmerta laughed heartily. "Well, at least he was being responsible."

"He still wears Gryffindor's sword in a sheath on his belt to classes."

"You never know, there might be something horrible that he'd need to use it on."

"When I caught him escorting the Patils after hours last week, he started telling me about how much fun they'd had together and why they were getting back to their dorms so late." Minerva sighed and added, "I honestly don't think he understood why I wouldn't want to hear the details about his sexual prowess. At least both of the girls quickly cut him off."

"He must be doing something right," Rosmerta snickered. "I heard he's even dating a Slytherin now too."

"I'm not certain exactly what is going on between him and Miss Greengrass," Minerva said. "That girl is rather strange though. I have nothing against her, but some of her behavior is just... odd."

"Maybe that's why she gets along with Harry then?"

"Perhaps." She took another drink. "He does seem to be rather cautious around her though, which is very much not like Harry."

"Do you know what a terminator is?" Rosmerta asked.

"No. Why?"

"I don't know," the barkeeper shrugged. "Harry was muttering something about it to the twins before Greengrass joined them on their last Hogsmeade visit."

"That cannot be good," Minerva replied. "It sounds like an exterminator, and Harry gets up to all sorts of violence at the drop of a hat. I suppose I'll need to question him about it, for my own peace of mind if not for the safety of the school itself."

"Well, you won't catch me badmouthing him," Rosmerta said with a grin. "He paid up front for that delivery today- and he even paid extra for my trouble! If only all my customers were so polite and thoughtful."

Harry had a bit of a problem when he tried to think of who he could get to help him with his new plan for hooking McG up. While normally he might ask his honeys, neither Padma nor Parvati had been supportive of his efforts. Daphne, while obviously good with potions, was still too much of a wildcard. What if that was the thing that caused her programming to activate in some horrible way? He hadn't thought of including McG as one of the people she couldn't attack when bargaining with her.

There was Fleur, he supposed, and as a Veela, she was bound to know stuff about passion and all that. However, she was still in France, so he would have to wait for letters to go back and forth. While that could work, since the holiday break was about to start, Harry still wracked his brain for people that could help. Fred and George were a possibility, but he worried that they might not take the plan seriously.

When did they ever take anything seriously?

But...

Then he thought of Sirius. His godfather was a pretty cool dude, and he was a bit older, so maybe he had some wisdom about helping other people hook up? And he was planning on spending part of the Christmas break with him at that wild house of his. Harry didn't really see why he complained so much- he thought all the macabre decorations were like something straight out of a haunted house. If Sirius were smart, he'd set it up for Halloween tours and charge the muggles to see 'a real haunted house' complete with all sorts of spooky crap. He could just say it was all special effects and stuff and blow people's minds (while getting a little richer at the same time.)

It was the last day of the term, and normally people would stay out of Ron Weasley's way as he went to breakfast, but Harry didn't know any better.

"Hey, dude, can we talk for a minute?" he asked.

"Uh, hey Harry," Ron said. "Can we talk while we walk? I'm starving this morning."

"Makes sense," Harry agreed. "You are a big, tall dude, and with the weight you've been putting on these last few weeks, you're bound to be needing some more calories. Just be sure to go for protein, you know dude?"

"Yeah... right."

"Cool, so anyway, I was wondering about what type of ladies you were into."

Dean and Seamus both snorted as they walked along nearby. "Are we even sure Ron is into ladies?"

"He looked like he had some fun with Bulstrode last year at the dance," Neville suggested.

Harry approved- that was good of him to stand up for a bro. Longbottom was a quiet dude, but he wasn't a brat or a dick and even though he was still the weakest of the older dudes in the LA, he didn't complain much about sore muscles or anything.

"I'm just thinking," Harry continued. "You know how some guys are really into boobs or bums or legs... or, I don't know, feet or whatever."

A couple of the little dudes following along behind them looked at each other in confusion, with Charlie muttering, "Feet?"

Richie was glad that he was far in the back and no one saw him briefly flush red.

"I've always been a bit more of an arse man, myself," Seamus laughed.

"I'm more of a breast man," Dean added with a chuckle. "What about you, Harry?"

"My honeys are hot from head to toe," Harry grinned. "But yeah, boobs are awesome."

Neville was blushing like he wished he were somewhere else at the time, and Ron looked even more like a ripe tomato.

"So, anyway, Ron- how about you?" Harry asked again. "I mean, I heard you asked Fleur out last year, but that doesn't really count, you know? She was a Veela, and that's just cheating with her brain zapping juju."

"Er, I guess I like tits too," Ron finally answered. Hoping to get the attention elsewhere, he quickly blurted out, "Neville, how about you?"

"Hold on," Harry interjected. "How big do you like 'em?"

"The bigger, the better, right?" Dean laughed.

"Well... I mean... yeah," Ron admitted, trying and failing to shrug off his embarrassment.

"Alright, good," Harry replied. That gave him a place to start working- Parvati had gleefully told him about Milicent's obvious interest in Ron, and it did explain another reason why she might have wanted to join his Lifting Army. He'd just have to make sure she was there to work and not just flirt or something.

"Hey, Sirius! We need to talk!" Harry exclaimed as they arrived at Grimmauld Place. The nutball painting started screeching and he waved cheerfully at it as Walburga called him an unwashed brute. Poor old painting lady always did deflate a bit at how Harry enjoyed her insults.

"Merlin, Harry, do you have to do that?" Sirius asked a minute later once they had left the hall.

"I think she's funny."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "What's got you so excited?"

"I think I've finally cracked the problem with McG," he said with a huge smile. "I don't need to try to find her a dude. I just need to get her to lower her inhibitions so she can make a move on the right lady."

Sirius choked and sputtered for a minute, his eyes wide. "You think... Minerva McGonagall is a lesbian? You do know she used to be married, right? To a guy."

"I know what I saw- she was laughing and smiling when she was sharing a drink with Madam Rosmerta," Harry said.

"You're mixing up my old boyhood fantasies, Harry," Sirius frowned. "I don't know if I like this. What are you suggesting?"

"I want to help McG get laid," he grinned. "And if that's with a hot older lady instead of a hot older dude, that's fine with me. As long as it puts a smile on her face, you know?"

Sirius put his face in his hands and groaned. Letting out a long sigh, he finally said, "I may know of a couple of things that could help."

"Thanks, dude."

Nagini was not having a good Christmas. Wasn't it bad enough that her pale pseudo-son had placed that sliver of magic in her, which always itched like a splinter stuck in between her scales? Hadn't she nursed the bratty little dark lord while he was still a baby-monster-thing and let that disgusting ratboy help?

But now she was stuck slithering through the Ministry of Magic late at night. And even worse, Tom had come along and kept trying to steer her. It was just the worst- like what a muggle would call a backseat driver. He was even giving her a headache.

"The Hall of Prophecies, Nagini," his voice hissed in her mind.

"I know! Stop reminding me and let me try to find it!"

Tom was really starting to get on her nerves. She should have gone to Asia and found any other Parselmouth to hang out with, but no, she just had to investigate the dark and spooky forest in Albania, and now she was stuck with this guy.

At least the humans weren't very perceptive, so she didn't have to bite the night watchman at the front desk. Contrary to popular belief, they did not taste good at all. But, there was no real sound of that portkey that had delivered her there, other than the way she had hissed about having to arrive via such an unpleasant mode of travel.

Now she just had to figure out how to work this lift thing.

Thankfully, the button to call for it had been easy enough to press even though she lacked hands but now that she was inside, she wasn't sure what to do about pushing the right button.

"It's on level nine," Tom reminded her.

"I know, but you may have forgotten that I don't have fingers," she hissed back at the unruly passenger. "How do you expect me to hit the right button? Just bash my nose into it over and over until we get lucky?"

Unfortunately, the 'great and powerful' dark lord Voldemort didn't have any better ideas. And that's why her nose was now sore. It took four tries to push the nine.

The trip downstairs was also quite long since the lift stopped at floors five, six, seven, and eight on the way.

"Finally," Tom hissed inside her head.

"Do you want me to turn around? Now, be quiet while I figure out... "

She came to this strange round room with a number of doors. Then the open door behind her shut. And then the room spun around too quickly for her eyes to follow it. Nagini closed her eyes and grumbled to herself- the migraine was just getting worse and worse and she knew she wouldn't be getting back to her lair and a good night's sleep anytime soon.

Once the room stopped spinning, she opened her eyes and looked around. "Now what?"

Tom chanted some gobbledy gook in her head and then replied, "The door should be the one just to the right of the one straight ahead."

"Just to the right, okay."

Nagini slithered forward and groaned out a hiss. She was going to have to try to turn a doorknob again, and hopefully without chipping a tooth. Plus, the metal tasted completely disgusting. The things these foul humans did with their hands- always touching everything!

It took her three attempts to finally get the door opened. Thankfully after that it was smooth sailing down a hallway before she came to yet another door.

"I hate you, Tom," she muttered as she went to work at trying to open it.

After a few moments of slithering, she finally found the correct aisle. There were hundreds and hundreds of little glass balls everywhere, maybe half of them glowing, and once again, she was going to have to use her mouth to do something this buffoon should have had one of his followers do.

"Rookwood was the only Unspeakable follower that I had," he protested.

"Then you should have had him do this!"

"He's locked up in Azkaban, remember?"

"Then, break him out, jackass!" Nagini sniped back. She hinged her jaw wide open and slowly leaned in towards what she hoped was the correct glass ball.

"Maybe I will," Voldemort hissed. "He wouldn't dare sass me the way-"

"I'll show you sassing!"

Unfortunately, Tom had raised Nagini's ire just as she was about to bite the prophecy, and the distraction caused her to miss. The weight of a more than two hundred pound snake bumping into the shelf caused a dozen or more glass balls to fall and shatter onto the floor.

That let out a cacophony of voices all spouting their prophecies at the same time. Loudly.

"I needed that prophecy!" Tom screamed in her head.

The migraine was so much worse now.

"Then maybe next time you'll come up with a plan that isn't fucking retarded!" she hissed right back.

He had no response to that.

After a couple of nice minutes of silence, she realized that Tom had left.

On the one hand, this made her head feel a bit lighter, which was nice, and that splinter wasn't itching anymore. However, she also was now alone deep in the ministry building and she was going to have to find a way out.

Not only did this mean having to use all those doors and the lift again, but then making her way through the magical phone box and the city itself.

She had learned the hard way that floo travel was not an option- not only did it require human speech to activate, but trying to force all of her body into the flames at once and then out the other side... Well, it had made her have to shed her skin more than a month early. And that was on top of the nausea.

"That's it! I quit!"

Author's Note: While Nagini going to the Department of Mysteries might have served the plot to place Arthur Weasley in danger, it really doesn't make any sense as a plan to actually retrieve the prophecy. Let's say that Nagini slithered on by while he slept and somehow grabbed the right little snowglobe. Snakes can't apparate. I'm pretty sure she doesn't have an escape portkey in her pocket either.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Take care until next time!