Don't Feed The Plants!

"Hermione, I am not doing this." Ron Weasley walked into the Gryffindor Common Room one day, his face giving away the fact that he was very, very annoyed.

Hermione sighed. "Ron, you've already said that you would do this..."

Ron cried indignantly. "But I'm wearing a dress!" Sure enough, Ron pointed at himself, and he was indeed wearing a short, silver-sequined go-go dress that was very popular with Muggles in the 1960s. Hermione mused that her boyfriend's knees were knobby and very unladylike.

"It's not like you're the only one," she pointed out. She, too, was wearing a matching silver dress. "And Harry's wearing one, too." She looked around quizzically. "Where is Harry, anyway?"

"Probably attempting to kill himself," Ron mumbled under his breath, "if he's also stuck wearing this." Hermione overheard him, and gave a very disapproving look in his direction. Ron scowled back.

"Um, Hermione?" A weak voice came from atop the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Both Hermione and Ron looked up, knowing that it was Harry's. They were both horribly dismayed, however, when Harry came walking down the stairs, clad only in the go-go dress.

"Oh my," Hermione gasped, her cheeks burning red.

"That was definitely something I never needed to see of you, Harry," Ron said, clamping a hand over his eyes.

"It's a little short," Harry blushed. Hermione's brow furrowed and she pondered Harry's dressy dilemma.

"Well, we can't fix it now, or we'll be late." She sighed. "I guess you'll just have to keep your legs closer together...and hope for the best." Harry nodded, as his face turned a brighter red than before. He tugged downward at his dress, but the sequined material did not give one extra inch of coverage.

Hermione turned around, only to face an accusatory finger pointed in her face. Ron was very serious. "You had better explain why we're all wearing dresses, Granger," he demanded. Ron had called Hermione by her last name; she knew that he was no longer playing around.

"Not just any dresses, Ron," she said, undaunted. She pushed his intruding finger away from her face and looked him in the eye. "These are authentic Muggle clothes from the 1960s, from the go-go era. They cost me quite a bit to get." Hermione rolled her eyes in disappointment. "And, since I asked for two of these dresses in a men's size, I can never shop in that store again."

Ron crossed his arms in front of his glittery chest. "That doesn't explain why we're wearing them." He was quickly losing patience, and the cold castle drafts were not being kind to his bare legs.

Harry was scratching alone in the corner. "These sequins aren't supposed to itch so much, are they?" he asked. Hermione and Ron ignored him.

"I told you, Ron," Hermione said, attempting a soothing voice as Ron sneered at his hemline. "We're here to be the commenting muses of the story; the Greek chorus, if you will. Although we're not the main characters of this story..."

"Wait," Harry spoke up. He approached his similarly-clad friends, scratching all the while. "I'm not the main character of this story?" Hermione shook her head no. Harry's expression turned to perplexity. "Does the author realize that this is titled the Harry Potter series? Because, you know, I'm Harry Potter, and since this is my series..."

"Oh, come now, Harry," Ron said jokingly, poking Harry in the side. "Give someone else a chance to be the main character for once."

"Don't be so smug," Hermione quickly quipped back. "Do you think you're the main character, then, when you're wearing a dress?" Ron's grin faded. He didn't need to be reminded that he was not in normal attire, wizard nor Muggle.

"But if we're not the main characters, then why are we even in this story?" Harry asked.

Ron added, "And why are we wearing these dresses??"

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Hermione faced Ron stubbornly. "You know, I've heard just about enough complaining from you today, Ronald Weasley," she said forcefully. She faintly reminded Ron of stern Professor McGonagall. He then pictured old McGonagall in the short dress Hermione was wearing, and nearly fainted. "Harry hasn't complained half as much as you."

Ron gave a look over at Harry's direction, one eyebrow precariously raised. "Which is disturbing me slightly," he said warily. "I'd hate to say it, Harry."

Harry blushed again. "Well, apart from the itching, and the...little left to imagination..." At this remark, Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione held in a snicker. Harry shrugged his shoulders. "It's actually quite comfortable, Ron."

Upon hearing this, Ron's face turned a distinctive shade of green. "I think I'm going to be sick," he mumbled.

"We're plot devices," Hermione said aloud, hoping one of her comrades was listening. But, with Ron nearly doubling over with sickness and Harry daydreaming about a life without pants, neither of them seemed to be doing so. "We're here to further the plot so that the main characters can get on smoothly with the story. We're actually very important, even if we're not in the story as much as you'd like."

Ron, who had sat down in a rather cushiony armchair to calm his stomach, spoke up. "And the dresses?"

"They're to help distinguish us as separate entities of the story, so as not to be confused with the main focus of the plot. They're also excellent artifacts for learning about cultural history in Muggle Studies, a class in which both of you could benefit from extra studying." Hermione looked over to the seated Ron, and her eyes bulged slightly. "Close your legs, Ron." Ron complied, and now it was his turn to blush.

"You know," Harry pondered. "I wonder if I would get expelled if I started wearing nothing under my Hogwarts robes..."

"Harry!" exlcaimed a shocked Ron and Hermione, at the same time.

Harry shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't be doing it in the winter," he justified.

As Ron looked about ready to heave, Hermione looked up at the magical clock above the fireplace of the Gryffindor Common Room. The one hand on the clock's face was dipping past the mark that said "Time To Leave" and aiming decisively for "You're Late - Five Points From Gryffindor."

"Oh dear!" Hermione exclaimed. "We're nearly late! We have to start leaving, now."

Ron's face turned to shocked stone. "There is no way that I'm leaving this room in a dress," he declared. "Not for Muggle Studies, not for this bloody outrageous plot -"

"Where I'm not even the main character!" Harry chimed in.

"Not for anything," Ron continued.

Hermione sighed. "Well, if you won't do it for your studies, and you won't do it for the sake of the plot...at least do it for Neville."

Ron and Harry both jumped up, startled, from hearing this. "Neville?" Ron said, confused. "What do you mean, do it for Neville?"

Smiling to herself, Hermione continued. She knew she had these boys now. "Well, it's not every day that Neville gets his own story," she pointed out. "You know he's often overlooked. And besides, you know that, if someone wrote a story with either of you as the main character, and they needed someone to be a muse, like we are...Neville would do it for you in a heartbeat."

"Two heartbeats if he knew about the dress," Ron piped up. Harry snickered and nodded.

"He doesn't get this chance often," Hermione said. From the looks on Ron and Harry's faces, giving them a guilt trip to get them out that door was working like magic. "Neville's a hero in this story, and the romantic lead..."

"Neville, a romantic lead?" Harry perked up after hearing this. His face broke out into an excited grin. "I'd put on a dress just to see that happen!"

Hermione turned to Ron. He was the only one against this story, but his strict refusal was crumbling quickly. "You're the only one holding out, Ron," she said. "And it won't be too bad. Muses exist on a separate plane of action from everyone else: they appear mysteriously without anyone caring, or even noticing them. Half of the students in the school won't even notice you're there." She gave her boyfriend a weak smile. "What do you say?"

Reluctantly, Ron's mouth betrayed his crossed arms, and he broke out into a smile. "Okay, I'll do it," he said, much to Hermione's joy. She squeaked in approval, and clapped. "For Neville."

"For Neville," She repeated.

Harry spoke up above both of them. "For dresses!" He shouted. Ron and Hermione looked back at him with matching shocked expressions. Harry blushed, and said in a lower voice, "And Neville." He hurried past his two friends towards the Common Room's portal, and pushed at the back of the Fat Lady's portrait. Ron and Hermione followed him, shaking their heads in disbelief of their friend.

"You know," Ron said, looking his girlfriend up and down in the very revealing go-go dress. "You never wear anything like that for me." He grinned.

"Well," she said seductively, a hint of a smile upon her lips. "Since you're being such a good sport about this..." She almost had to press a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing crudely at her own sarcasm, "I might just keep the dress on...for later."

This made Ron grin even brighter - now, he was genuinely excited to get outside of the Gryffindor Common Room, for the quicker the trio left, the quicker he and Hermione could return. But, something crossed his mind... "Only if you promise me one more thing," he bargained.

Hermione looked up at Ron inquisitively. "What?" she asked.

Ron shook his head weakly as the couple watched their friend Harry step out into the hallway, the sequins on his dress shimmering by torchlight. Harry looked down to admire himself, his voice saying "This is so comfortable! I'm never wearing pants again!" floating from the corridor.

Ron gulped. "No more dresses for Harry."

Hermione nodded, as she herself began to feel ill. She agreed. "No more dresses for Harry."

As the trio moved out of the Gryffindor Common Room and into the hallways of Hogwarts, the moods instantly changed, and a strange, melodious feeling fell upon them. A large voice boomed above them, seemingly out of nowhere, and the soft chords of a musical number could be heard. And so, the story began...

On the twenty-third day of the month of September in the seventh year of a decade not too long before our own, the wizarding world suddenly encountered a deadly threat to its freedom, liberties, and its very existence. And this terrifying implement of destruction surfaced, as such things often do, in the seemingly most innocent and unlikely of hands.

HARRY, RON, HERMIONE
This ol' fic, has got no Harry Potter
Take your pic, of fics with Harry Potter
If you stick, you'll find no Harry Potter
No, oh, oh, no-oh!

We don't got, we got no Harry Potter
We don't stop, with only Harry Potter
The Trio's not, in this fic with Potter
No, oh, oh, no-oh!

HARRY
Sonorus, there's drama and there's lust
But there's no Trio

RON
Ennervate, this fic's really great
Without them

HERMIONE
Accio, where did the Trio go
If we're singing?

HARRY, RON, HERMIONE
Because, It's Neville
This fic is starring Neville
And he's dealin', with somethin' really evil
It's Neville, Neville's the hero of this tale

Ohh, here's the fic baby
We won't squick, baby

Ohh, there's no fluff, baby
There's no WAFF, baby

HARRY
Stupefy, there are other guys
To pay attention to

RON
Incendio, we are gonna show you the way

HERMIONE
Riddikulus, you won't find us
Except in the background

HARRY, RON, HERMIONE
You betcha, this fic is starring Neville
You best believe it, he gets himself together
It's Neville, Neville is the star of this tale

So today, it's Hogwarts House of Horrors
There's no aid, from little Harry Potter
So we say, Hogwarts House of Horrors
No, oh, oh, no, oh, oh, no, oh, oh, no!