Chapter 3

Zap!

Harry felt himself shrinking. And not in that way, you gutter-minded folks. His entire self from head-to-toe was becoming rapidly tinier and tinier. "Help me! Heeelp meee!" he tried to shout, but his voice became squeaky and then incomprehensable. He looked around at the room full of giants staring down at him.

"Harry...you're...you're a...a mouse!" Ron gasped. He plucked up Harry by the tail and stared at him curiously. "This is the second rodent I've known who was actually a person."

Professor McGonagall thundered over, or it sounded like thunder from Harry's point-of-view, at least. "That's what you get!" she shouted.

"What got YOU in a snit?" sneered Marcus Flint. Her eyes glowered, and he cowered. "I mean, you're looking awfully lovely today!"

"Oh, no, I'm not," she said, sinking into Harry's now empty seat with a heavy sigh. "This dress and hat so totally clash."

"You're hot," Justin Finch-Fletchley said.

"Why are you obsessed with the women professors today?" asked Seamus Finnigan.

Justin's eyes glazed over as he stared pointedly at McGonagall's bosom. "Because they have nice, big--"

"Nevermind!" Seamus threw his hands up.

Minerva looked shocked and crossed her arms over her indicated chest. "Please leave. And twenty points from Hufflepuff!"

So that's what house he's in, Harry thought to himself.

Once class had been dismissed and all the students had scrambled out, Minerva stood and went over to the mirror resting in the corner. "Hmm," she hmmed. "Hmmmm," she hmmmmed. "Hmmmmmm," she...you get the idea. She went on hmming and such for a while, studying the shape of her liver-spotted legs, the curve of her bat-winged arms, and the slender crevasse between the sides of her protruding chicken's neck. She admired how well-shaped her breasts were once the excess skin was yanked up and duct-taped to a bra, and how lovely her fingers were if held above her head so the blue veins deflated. She had to admit: she was an exquisitely buxom lady.

"He was right. I AM hot," she remarked. "I should send a resume to that Bikini Babes calender!"

Everyone was resting in their dormitories, Harry lying across Ron's chest (remember, he's a mouse, so it's not strange and disgusting for him to sit on people).

"Where've Hermione and Draco gotten off to?" Ron wondered aloud.

"Send Harry to spy on them," Lee Jordan suggested.

Good idea, thought Harry, and sprinted away. We'll just skip the whole description of him travelling around looking for the Slytherin's part of the castle and just go straight to where he finds their entrance, a portrait of the Gray Lady. An exceptionally convenient mouse-sized hole was in the wall next to it, and Harry ran for it, when a fuzzy paw suddenly slapped down on his tail. Before he knew it, he had caught by Mrs. Norris. She dangled him in front of her fuzzy face while she licked her fuzzy lips.

"Yum yum, I caught myself a tasty little mousey!" she said...uh...fuzzily.

"No! Don't eat me! It's me, Harry Potter!" he cried.

"Whoop-dee-freakin'-doo," she said, and opened her mouth wide.

"I saved you, remember?" he begged. "I found you petrified in my second year! If it wasn't for me, you might have been eaten by the Basilisk!"

"Oh, well in that case...nope, still don't care." She started to lower him towards her slavering jowls.

"I...I'll tell Fluffy that you made Fang kill himself!" he bluffed. He only hoped that Mrs. Norris knew how much Fluffy had adored Fang.

She considered this, and finally dropped him back on the floor, head-first. "Okay, fine," she said. "But Crookshanks is even crankier than me, and has nothing to do with either of those dogs. If you run into him, you'll be sorry!" And she padded off to find some brats to get into trouble.

"Phew," Harry sighed, and crawled through the hole into the Slytherin common room. It was exactly like Snape: Old, greasy, dark, with an abnormally large nose. Harry was perplexed about the huge set of nostrils lying in the corner, inhaling hapless dust bunnies and disturbing a Black Widow wedding.

"I promise to love and cherish you until the end of my days, or until I devour you and our children," the bride was vowing.

"Um. I think I need some space. Let's just be friends," the groom said nervously. "It's not you, it's me. I'm just not ready for this kind of commitment."

"Bastard!" she screamed and bit off his head.

"I now pronounce you," droned the minister, "bride and delicacy."

Harry shook his own head at the sight, and continued on up into the fifth-year boys' dormitory. All of the beds were empty with the curtains pulled back except for one. He scampered over and crawled up onto the foot of the bed, where he saw the most grotesque, terrifying, hideous thing ever: naked Draco. Not just Draco, either, but also naked Hermione, and they were lying next to each other, staring lovingly into each others' eyes with nauseating amouration.

"What shall we name the baby, my schnookie-wookums?" she said.

Harry gave a shrieking little squeak of pure horror and fell off the bed, hitting his head on the floor again and making for the exit with godspeed. He then collapsed in the hall outside the common room, panting, still haunted by the sight of Draco's anatomy, caricaturely huge-seeming since Harry had been so tiny. It would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life. You just can't recover from something like that.

He made it back to his own dorm, where Minerva was waiting. As soon as she spotted him, she zapped him back to human form. He may or may not have been naked.

"I apologize for turning you into a mouse," she said, "But next time, pay attention!" A plot hole suddenly opened up and she fell into it and vanished from the scene because it's very important that she not hear what Harry was about to say next.

"You won't believe what I just saw!" he shouted. "Draco and Hermione...they...they...they -got in awn-!"

"Wow. You mean..." Ron said. "...that she was in the Slytherin dorms?"

"I thought that was obvious," Harry said.

"Well you didn't say it."

"But it was implied."

"No it wasn't."

"Shut up, both of you!" Dean Thomas shouted.

Roughly nine months later...

Hermione slunk through the halls suspiciously, with a suspicious bundle in her suspicious arms. It was...suspicious. Peeves noticed her suspiciousness and floated over upside-down.

"Oooh, what is an ickle little firsty doing wandering the halls like this?" he said.

"One, I'm NOT a first-year, I'm a fifth. Two, none of your business. Three, why do you have to talk like a retarded four-year-old?" she snapped, all irritated from her hormones. Peeves was so taken aback he flipped right-side-up.

"You're no fun!" he sneered in an oily voice. "THERE'S A KID WANDERING HE HALLS, SHE LOOKS VERY SUSPICIOUS!" McGonagall came running out of her office. Both poltergeist and school-girl gasped at the sight of Minerva.

She was wearing a bright yellow bikini!

"What are you doing!" Hermione and McGonagall asked each other at the same time.

"I...need some help," Hermione answered first. "What are -you- doing?"

"Oh, taking some photos to send in to the Bikini Babes calender," the professor said. Justin Finch-Fletchey (what a weird name) turned the corner suddenly, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Oh...my...goodness. You are SO hot!" he breathed.

"Which one?" Minerva said.

"You."

"Oh man," Peeves said, snapping his fingers, "I was hoping it would be me." They gave him weird looks, and he floated away in a hurry.

"Justin, go back to wherever to need to be!" Minerva screamed.

"I don't need to go anywhere," he said, and sidled up next to her.

"Then just go away! Ten points from Hufflepuff you dirty little brat! Get out of my sight before I hit you!"

"Hit me...or hit ON me?" he said, waggling his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes, and dragged Hermione into her office before the weird boy could make a pass at either of them anymore.

"Now, what is it you need, Granger?"

"Well..." Hermione unrolled the bundle, showing off a blue baby. "Oops, must have wrapped the blanket too tightly."

"Oh my goodness!" Minerva said, jumping up. "When did you start kidnapping!"

"I didn't! It's mine!"

"What!" This shocked the teacher even moreso. "Who's the father? Let me guess, Weasley?"

"No. It's--"

"I know. Harry, right?"

"No! It's...Draco Malfoy."

McGonagall looked faint. "When...how...but...well, I'm...I'm going to write letters to each of your two's parents!"

"NO!" Hermione screamed, dropping the baby with a thunk. "If Lucius finds out--"

"Find out what?" Lucius had appeared. Somehow. We'll never know how. He probably leaped out of a passing plot hole just then. Or perhaps he had been travelling to and through the school this entire time and arrived in the room at precisely the wrong moment. Either way, there he was. Woo, mysterious.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, not finding it strange in the least that he had appeared from nowhere for no reason at all. Likewise he didn't find it odd that she was in a bikini.

"Hello, Mrs. McGonagall," he said curtly.

"You're a grandfather."

His face went white in shock, then melted into a frown as he sank into a chair. He seemed extremely depressed instead of angry. "I was just going through my mid-life crisis..." he whined. "Now I feel so OLD! Oh well...who's the father?"

"Er...your son," she said.

"Oh. Right. Yes, of course, there's no reason for it to be anyone else, nope. Who's the mother, then? Not a mudblood, I should hope."

The two females exchanged nervous glances. It took a moment for Lucius to understand, and he jumped to his feet and started strangling Hermione, shouting and cursing like a madman, veins bulging in his forehead, hair fraying at the edges, steam whistling out of his ears. The infant started crying from the floor, and the readers sighed in relief to find out the author hadn't really killed an infant.

Minerva drew her wand and shouted a word, and the desk transformed into a Devil's snare and took hold of everyone except herself. "Now, I'm sure we can all just stay civil and settle this like adults," she said. "Nine months ago, the fifth-year students were all attacked by the evil 'pot'. To keep your son from getting into trouble, I transformed him into a turtle, when Hermione kissed him. Then it just got out of hand, I guess."

"You little mudblood," Lucius snarled, "When I see you next, I'll pop your head off like a bottlecap!"

McGonagall was about to scold him, when a fear-filled chorus of screams echoed up from the Main Hall.