AN -- I saw the challenge, and --what can I say?-- I was intrigued. It's a bit different from my normal style, but it's a fun little thing. I hope.

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"Did you hear?"

"The 'Plan'?"

"Yeah! I heard about that! I wonder what it is!"

All around Hogwarts little cliques were gathering in hallways, whispering in clandestine meetings. Word spread quickly, even when the professors were firmly against discussion of 'The Plan' in any way, shape, or form.

It all started two weeks ago, when a discussion between Dean Thomas and Ron Weasley was overheard by Dumbledore.

"What do you mean 'You didn't know what Quidditch was before you came here? What did you do?"

"All sorts of stuff! Football, Rugby, that American thing that they call football."

"What in blazes are you going on about?"

" Oh! Barbecues! You'd love Barbecues, Ron! They're all about eating!"

"You didn't even play QUADPOT?" At this, Dean let out a frustrated cry.

"I bet that if we'd have some sort of Muggle event at this school, you'd have some clue what I was talking about! As it is-"

"An EXCELLENT idea, Mr. Thomas!" Dumbledore cried from right behind him, making Dean look like he'd stepped on a baby blast ended skrewt and was looking the mother in the eye. "Mr. Thomas, I charge you with finding a crew of oh, five or six people with muggle raising, and come to me with an event you'd like to have, say... oh, in a month? Very good, Mr. Thomas." And he left without another word. Ginny, taking a look at the shocked expression still mingled with the pained expression from before, dissolved into giggles.

"Oh... Well, Hermion-"

"Let's leave the Head Girl out of this, shall we? She's got a busy schedule as it is." Dumbledore called over his shoulder. "Oh, Harry too." Dean groaned and Ron smirked. Seeing the look on her boyfriend's face, Hermione elbowed Ron shaprly.

"Ron! You should take more of an interest in Muggle things! Especially with the line of work your father is in!"

"Oh for the love of Merlin!"

"I think it's a great idea." Harry said. Everyone looked at him, startled at the first words he'd said since he sat down. "Think about how pissed Malfoy'll be." After another moment, there was a round of cheering and laughing.

And that brings us to the present.

Dean had assembled a troupe of muggle-borns and half bloods, consisting of Seamus Finnigan, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Colin and Dennis Creevey, and himself. They concocted a plan. That is all that is known... at present.

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"Ginny!" Colin rushed into the Common Room. Lucky for him, said red-head was reading a book curled up on the couch.

"Hmm?" She replied.

"Get your purse now! We have to get down to Hogsmede!"

"Oh, I dunno, I was thinking of skipping it today. I'm feeling a bit tired."

"NO! You are going to Hogsmede NOW!" Ginny was surprised at the urgency in his voice.

"What? Why? Oh, 'The Plan'?"

"Yes! There's to be... well, I'll tell you once we're out of here!" Ginny shrugged and went upstairs to grab her purse and change her robe.

After handing the form to Filch for his unscrupulous scanning, the two sixth years were on their way to the old wizarding village.

"So, what's this about Colin? What's 'The Plan?'" He shook his head.

"I can't tell you the whole 'Plan', but..."

"Then why the hell did you drag me out of my peaceful, not to mention comfortable, couch?"

"Hush! As I was saying, I can't tell you the whole plan, but I can tell you that there's going to be a certain competition. And this way, we can get a head on the rush."

"Oh, do tell!"

"Bathing suits."

"Oh crap."

"What? What's wrong with that?" Colin asked, genuinely curious.

"I can't stand bathing suits. I can't stand anything revealing. You know that." Colin swore and looked away sheepishly. "Colin..." Ginny moaned in that tone that let him know that she knew that he suggested the idea.

"It's too late now! It's mandatory for fourth years and above!" Ginny growled and followed her overly-enthused friend through the wrought iron gates on the outskirts of the school grounds.

"Damn my being a sixth year."

"THERE you are!" Dean ran into the Three Broomsticks breathless and sweaty. Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste and motioned for him to take a seat... as far away from her as possible.

"Whadya need?" Ron asked, Harry nodding in agreement.

"There's going to be..." He panted. "A ..." Just then Ginny sprinted over to Hermione and grabbed her upper arm.

"Time to GO Hermione! Colin is impossible to shop for bathing suits with! He keeps talking about these 'sack races' and how he'd 'like to get in the sack with her'. Whoever the hell 'her' is."

Everyone at the table look at Ginny as if lobsters were crawling out of her ears as she led Hermione out of the pub. Ron's ears went a vivid shade of red.

"Well." Ron stated in a voice slightly higher than his normal tenor. Dean started to laugh. Hysterically. "Well." Ron repeated, voice somewhat normal. "Want to explain what THAT was all about?" But Dean couldn't. He was still laughing. Harry had to bite his lip for a few moments before explaining the concept of a sack race.

"Oh! So that's what Ginny meant by 'getting in the sack'?" Harry and Dean nodded, still hard pressed to keep from laughing.

"Yes Ron. Now, I do believe that it is time we leave. Perhaps to get our own bathing suits?" Dean nodded and hurriedly ushered the other two males out the door.

"The clothing store is featuring some bathing suits for the occasion. We'd best get going. Can't get caught in the rush!"

"Yes mother."

"Shut up you hag."

"Yes mum."

"Ugh!"

"Ginny! Come on! Those last eight bathing suits you tried on were splendid!" Hermione yawned. Ginny sighed. She just couldn't help it. Really, she would be appearing in front of Harry in this suit. She better as hell make it worth every knut. And Hermione had such an easy time finding her bathing suits. Bikini tops were made for C cups and one-pieces were made for B or D cups. cups. Hermione was a solid C. Ginny was more of a... C+. Hence the incredible problem finding the right suit. As Ginny walked out in a dark green one piece (B), she cried out in frustration once reaching the three-way mirror.

"I look like a top heavy asparagus!" At this Hermione started laughing.

"Hey, you were the one who loved that from 'the moment you set your eyes on it'!" Ginny groaned.

"I know! I know! Oh jeez! You look great in your suit! You'd prolly have better luck finding me one!" Ginny slammed the fitting room door shut, throwing the bathing suit on top of the hook.

"Fine." Hermione said.

"What?" Ginny stuck her head through the gap above the door.

"I'l go pick out a bathing suit for you." Ginny shrugged.

"Go ahead. I'm out of stuff to try on."

"I still think that once that thing gets wet..." Hermione let out an exasperated noise and placed a hand over Ginny's mouth.

"Shut up, will you? You've already paid, and the suit is non refundable. I think... oh... you know what I think?" Ginny looked around to see what caused the sudden change of her friend's tone.

"Too much?" She replied cautiously.

"I think that, even though he's a greasy git, Malfoy would look good in that suit!" Hermione pointed to a lime green speedo. It was Ginny's turn to start lauging.

"I know I'd sure like to see Malfoy in that! It's rumored he's got quite the package. Then again, the goon's as poofy as one of those cheezy poofs you're always on about."

"Well hello there, Weasley. Didn't know you thought so highly of me." Ginny turned around and looked Malfoy in the eye.

"Like I said, just rumors. Spread by Parkinson. Prolly talking about herself. C'mon Mione."

And just like that, BOOM! Draco Malfoy came to a dramatic conclusion.

Weasley was right.

Parkinson WAS packing!

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Disclaimer: all the characters, places, and stuff you know and love all belong to the wonderful JK Rowling. Meaning not me.