How Hogwarts Became a Nudist Colony

How Hogwarts Became a Nudist Colony

Chapter 7: The Boxer Rebellion

Harry Potter raised a hand, something akin to fear on his face. "Just a moment, Headmaster . . ."

"Will you stop interrupting!" snapped a grumpy portrait across the room.

The boy-who-lived-to-disturb restrained himself from using an impolite hand gesture and ignored the painting. "Professor Dumbledore?" Harry paused to reassure himself that Ron and Draco were not about to run into the office. "Are you saying. . .? I mean did. . . .Was Ron really 'turned on' by his sister and Pansy's cat fight?"

Dumbledore raised a brow, taking the chance to clean his spectacles on a handkerchief. "Now that you mention it, I suppose that is rather odd." Harry rolled his eyes as the headmaster continued, "However you must consider that Mr. Weasley's ardor was fueled strictly by the sight of Miss Parkinson's assets."

"Enough, Headmaster," Harry snapped. "I get what you're saying--sorry I asked."

Dumbledore obviously did not agree. The old man's argument went on as if Harry had said nothing. "Likewise," he said, "Mr. Malfoy was only admiring the obvious skills and talents of Miss Weasley. After all, since his breakup with Pansy Parkinson, he has held nothing but grudges and disgust toward the young woman.

"According to a group of Ravenclaws, their relationship apparently went afoul when Mr. Malfoy harassed Miss Parkinson in a dark broom closet (a favorite amongst the older students it seems) with a can of whipped topping. Of course, Mr. Malfoy claims it was simply a muggle gesture of endearment. I also heard from a group of Hufflepuffs that their terrible break-up had nothing to do with whipped topping but the fact that it was not Pansy in the broom closet with Mr. Malfoy. . . ."

"PROFESSOR!"

Dumbledore stopped himself with a chuckle and looked up. "Another question, Harry my boy?"

"No! I mean--you were rambling, sir." Harry leaned over, cupping his forehead in his hand once again. "I really care nothing about Malfoy's love life--honestly, sometimes I think my own world is just an imaginary land for fan girls who love redeemed bad boys. Could we just get on with the story?"

"Whipped topping?" Dumbledore asked.

"No! Please, no," Harry begged. "We were discussing our current Emperor's New Clothing situation."

"Ahh, yes," Dumbledore sighed. He smiled fondly leaning back in his chair and grasping his hands over his chest. "Where were we? OH, the Clothing Council! I believe Miss Granger was just about to take the stand. . . ."

Ten hours, forty-three minutes, and twenty-seven seconds since the de-invention of pockets

Miss Granger's account of events was not going well. Every statement she made was countered by an offensive remark from a parent. Hermione groaned, throwing her hands in the air. "How many times must I tell you, Mrs. Longbottom--Professor Snape did not force us, the student body, to take our clothes off. He made a suggestion which I took advantage of, that is all! Honestly, does Professor Snape look like Michael Jackson to you?"

Neville's grandmother opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. Frazzled, she shot, "Who is Michael Jackson?"

Hermione shook her head. "The point is--."

"The point is, Miss Granger," Professor Snape interrupted, placing two fingers on her elbow (apparently the elbow is the only safe place for one being to touch another without a sexual harassment case). He stood up, taking Hermione's place for the moment. "The point is that I am the one who made the suggestion for the students to participate in a streaking protest for House Elf Rights."

Gasps echoed from the Knickers Huggers' side of the room.

Dumbledore raised a hand to quiet the parents. "Professor Snape, you said earlier today that you did not take responsibility for the actions of Miss Granger and her band of followers."

"As if I would admit to being the cause of complete and utter chaos?" Snape snapped. The professor took a calming breath and attempted a smile that made half of the parents wince. "I can no longer forgo that responsibility! I did make the suggestion; however, this is not exactly what I would classify as streaking. I may have been an inspiration for this nudity campaign but full credit goes to Miss Hermione Granger." Snape stood up taller and Molly Weasley squeaked at her sudden full frontal view of the Potion's Master. "And I proudly shed my clothes for her!"

A war cry erupted from behind Snape. The students were cheering for their most disliked professor. Minerva McGonagall blinked back amazement as did the rest of the faculty. Never had they seen the students so united over one cause. This was greater than the tuna surprise ban of '57, more momentous than the march for chocolate privileges of '74, more electrifying than the failed attempt to host an Ozzy Osborn concert in '84.

"As enlightening as that declaration was," Lucius Malfoy said, quieting the crowd, "it did not convince me that the students should be allowed to run about in the nude."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Malfoy," Arthur Weasley said.

Hermione stood up, pushing Professor Snape to the side. "But House Elf Rights!!! Don't you understand how important this is? This is about freedom, not whether or not body parts should be shown." She took a deep breath, her face flushed. "It is too late for us to turn back. In the short time since we began shedding clothing, we have grown to be a colony of students and teachers," she smiled at Snape, "united under one cause. We are Hogwarts. We are a Nudist Colony, and nothing any of you say or do will change that."

The Great Hall was silent as the groups digested Hermione's passionate declaration. A single clap was heard, slowly at first and steadily becoming faster. Hermione looked up to see her headmaster standing with a smile on his face. The old man's clapping died out and he turned to the Knicker Huggers. "Unity, Minerva, unity. How can we question that?"

Professor McGonagall's nostril flared and she shook her head. "You were right, Albus. We are going to lose this one."

"Excuse me? Is there a brain cell left between you?" Lucius Malfoy shouted. "The school council--the one that actually counts--will be the final word on this matter, not you, Headmaster! And let me assure you, they will not approve of this, this orgy you call a school."

Dumbledore held Lucius's glare. "Tell me, anyone, what does the school council regulated handbook say about our dress code."

("We have a school handbook?" Ron asked.)

McGonagall frowned. "Student's are required to purchase school robes for each upcoming year. . ."

Hermione threw a hand up. "HOWEVER, THE SCHOOL HANDBOOK SAYS NOTHING ABOUT ACTUALLY WEARING THEM!"

Dumbledore's grin reached his eyes and they sparkled at her resounding echo. "Indeed, they do not. And, if my memory is correct, the handbook can not be reevaluated for another two years at most. I believe you and the school beneficiaries will have to take up that matter at a later date."

Lucius Malfoy's eyes shot daggers, but he slowly took his seat, unable to argue the point.

"Students," Dumbledore turned his attention to the nude teens at the opposite side of the room, "before we can come to a rational decision, we must hear all points of view. You have heard what the 'Knickers Huggers' have said about the matter, and we have all heard your points. But you are leaving out one final group--perhaps the most important group of all. You have forgotten the House Elves."

Hermione's mouth opened. "Oh, no. . ." she muttered.

"I believe," Dumbledore added, "that they should have a say."

Hermione looked to Snape who nodded once to her. "Yes, Headmaster, you are entirely correct."

Dumbledore looked to the side doors and called out in a very Father Christmas-like manner, "Dobby! Winky! Souper! Clivebarker! Kitchen aids, janitorial services, and interior decorators!"

Hermione expected the House Elves to appear before the council immediately but a moment passed and nothing happened. At last she heard the doors creek open. Elves flooded in from both sides of the room, walking slowly and chattering amongst themselves. Hermione smile in surprise and burst into laughter. The House Elves were nude, in their birthday suits, completely devoid of rags and pillow cases. In fact, all they wore were underpants over their heads, their flopping ears sticking out of the leg holes of boxers, briefs, and various pairs of knickers.

"Mistress Hermione!" shouted a squeaky voice. Dobby popped up out of the crowd, waving frantically. "Mistress Hermione, let Dobby have the extreme pleasure of introducing the Boxer Rebels."

Hermione's eyes widened and she turned to the Headmaster. "But. . ."

Dumbledore looked back at the group. "Perhaps I forgot to mention this--I freed all of the schools House Elves this morning, right before breakfast."