How Hogwarts Became a Nudist Colony

How Hogwarts Became a Nudist Colony

Part 9: Shock and Awe, Not

"I liked my ending better," Draco said, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward to elbow Ron. The Weasley let loose a goofy grin and nodded to the blond.

Dumbledore raised a brow in question, but did not ask what ending the two were referring to. Instead, he turned to Harry. "That's the tale, my boy. However, though somewhat overdue, I must inquire as to how you spent your time over the past few days."

"Oh." Harry hung his head, ashamed that he hadn't brought the subject up when it was still fresh on his mind. Plus, there was also the imminent danger and peril involved with that slice of information in which he had not yet disclosed. "I tried and failed. I thought I could take him, the sooner the better, but it didn't work. However, I did learn something of great importance while I was away. This should have been the first thing out of my mouth when I arrived, but I was . . . distracted at the time."

"You took it upon yourself to go after the Death Eaters as well, did you not?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded sorrowfully. "It did little good, but I was winning. I had them down, but my mind was elsewhere."

"I assume that you had decided that fulfilling the prophecy was not as important as say delivering a certain piece of valuable information to the school?"

"Wait a second," Draco interrupted. "There really was a prophecy?"

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked.

Draco looked at Harry suddenly. "Neo, you are the chosen one."

Harry raised a brow. "Isn't that from a muggle movie?" He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of a dozen unimportant questions. "Headmaster, you act as if you already know what I'm going to tell you. How can you let the students go frolicking around in the nude if you already know Voldemort's plan?"

"He also let us go to a muggle theater last weekend. We had to oblivate the attendants so that they wouldn't call the police," Draco said sagely. "And all sixth and seventh years are attending a Green Day concert next month. . . So, yeah, we're doomed."

Dumbledore raised a hand to stop Draco and Ron's interruptions. He looked down at Harry, smiling softly. "Yes, Mr. Potter. I know of Voldemort's plan, but he does not know of ours."

"Or at least we don't think that he knows what we know about what you know about what he knows," Ron explained.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued. "We have a plan of our own. Voldemort wishes to make a frontal attack, raiding the castle at a random, undisclosed time (random being seven thirty this evening)."

"Tonight? But you haven't raised any wards, and half of the Order members are not at the school. What exactly is your plan, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore stood in pale, wrinkled, and silver haired nudist glory. "We shall use a full frontal assault as well." He laughed at Harry's confused (and now somewhat disgusted) expression. "Excuse the upcoming, vague plagiarisms to come, but we have a great strength amongst us that we will be able to use to overthrow the Dark Lord. But we can only achieve this if we stand united as one. We are missing but one part of this living weapon. You are that piece Harry Potter.

"When the time comes, you must make an important choice. You can either let Voldemort destroy every one you know and love and the world you live in, or you can follow the path of light and surrender your pants."

Draco smirked. "But no pressure."

One hour, two minutes, seven seconds after Dumbledore proposed his plan to The-Boy-Who-Has-Yet-To-Take-Off-His-Boxers

The Great Hall, long since reverted back from its Council Chamber décor, was full of laughter and chattering students. The volume did not lower when Dumbledore and Harry entered but heightened. Peaceful chaos seemed the oxymoron of the hour as nude students of the dissolved Houses and most of the faculty mixed at various tables to discuss the fact that Harry Potter had returned still in his robes. Even a few elves were scattered amongst the crowds, knickers still firmly placed over their ears.

In fact, only the main table remained mostly empty. Professor McGonagall remained in her usual seat, arms crossed to cover most of her bare top. Snape and Hermione were at the far end of the table as well.

"Harry!" Hermione screeched, interrupting whatever Professor Snape had been divulging into her ear. "We were wondering when you'd be out of Dumbledore's office. I haven't seen you since this morning. . . Harry, you're still dressed?"

"Ehh." Harry attempted a lopsided grin, focusing his eyes above her neck. "You seem to have been busy, uniting the school and all."

"And to think," replied a cold voice. "She accomplished it entirely without the aid of the Golden boy." Snape smirked at Harry before turning away and drawing Hermione's attention back in one fell swoop.

Harry chose not to comment on either one of those statements. Apparently, one could take the brooding from the man but not the man from the brooding. "No, seating arrangements?" Harry asked his headmaster. From the corner of his eye, he watched Ron and Draco run out from the door toward separate tables where their new love interests awaited them.

"There is no need for them." Dumbledore patted him on the back, guiding him to a seat. "In fact, we have much more to talk about, so you might as well have a seat beside me."

Harry sat down, feeling somewhat awkward facing the many tables of his classmates. The evening meal was already waiting on the table, still warm. Harry realized that he was quiet hungry and began to dish out his own plate. He felt eyes on him and turned to see McGonagall's pursed lips and steady eyes looking over him, obviously upset that he was allowed to keep his precious clothing and that she was not.

"Well." Dumbledore made a clicking noise with his tongue to draw attention from his own table. "It seems our guests have arrived a bit early," he said in a hushed breath.

"Wretches," McGonagall muttered.

Snape's eyes flew up, and he whispered something (besides a sweet nothing) into Hermione's ear. The young witch stood suddenly and walked away from the faculty table, gesturing as she made her way across the Hall. Most of the students ignored her, but a few individuals perked up, crossing the room to take positions along the walls. Harry realized that every one of them belonged to the Flashing Brigade. In a matter of moments, students were drawing wands from beneath their tables and from leg holsters (where else could they store them?).

"I believe I'll go check on the arrangements for dessert. Care to join me, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry meant to question him, but when the two 'well' aged and properly wrinkled professors stood, he could do nothing but force his eyes away and repress a gag. When he finally caught his stomach, he looked back to find them gone. Snape had also disappeared--in fact, Harry had lost track of every faculty member who had just moments ago been scattered amongst the students.

"They're leaving us!" Harry whispered, panic washing over him. "What the bloody hell are they thinking, trusting the fate of wizard kind to a bunch of nude and hormone driven adolescents?"

Harry, expecting some kind of an answer, looked from side to side. However, the only reply he received came in the form of an explosive doom as the front doors flew off of their brackets and fell soundly, shaking the Great Hall. From the cloud of dust entered a shadowed figure in black robes holding a wand out from his hand as if it was an extension of his arm. Men in masks filtered past him, forming a semi-circle around their master.

"My life sucks," Harry muttered, pulling out his own wand.

Lord Voldemort smiled wickedly, his slit like nose flared as he stared directly ahead at the table where one Harry Potter stood alone. "Who says one can't come home again?" he asked, aiming his wand.

It was perhaps then that the Dark Lord noticed that he was completely surrounded by a group of nudists.