Hormone Induced Happenings

This is dedicated to my dear friend Gee, who co-wrote the skeleton of this fic with me on a boring summer afternoon and saved us both from an ultimate death of boredom

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Hermione woke up one morning and saw a blob of moldy cheese suspending in the air before her, she reached out for it. A miniature witch appeared, levitating amid colorful sparkles like a fairy.

"Hold it right there girl!" She cried, grabbing the cheese and promptly stuffed it into Hermione open mouth.

"I was going to do that anyway," Hermione mumbled, swallowing.

Suddenly, the floor of her bedroom gave way, and she fell. Wildly, she grabbed her wand to conjure a parachute. A tiny frog burst at her wand tip instead, and hopped out of sight in a flash in search of a lily pad. Flailing and screaming, Hermione landed heavily in a dimly lit strip bar. She sat up and watched in horror as Professor Flitwick and Mrs. Arabella Figg sashayed about upon the stage, clad in some doll sized fluorescent bikinis.

"Arggh, my virgin eyes!" cried Hermione. Ginny emerged from behind her, and said, "Hey, you've got to face the truth sooner or later." She rolled her eyes, "And we all know that the teachers' salaries aren't enough to support them! Of course they strip on the side." She made a face, "but I don't know why they bother, especially Mrs. Figg… Oh my! Is that Neville I see in the audience, stuffing Sickles Mrs. Figg's bikini bottom…are those shower curtains he’s wearing?" She doubled over and threw up convulsively on her sandals. Hermione back away and squinted into the crowd curiously.

It was indeed plump little Neville, grinning appreciatively as Mrs. Figg stuck her skinny buttocks into his face. He pulled at her bikini bottom and squeezed in a handful of Galleons, causing the stretchy fabric to combust, scattering money everywhere. Roaring with rage, Mrs. Figg fell on her knees and groped for the coins as they bounced away like rubber bouncy balls. She grabbed Neville's shower curtain and draped it over her shoulder, and sauntered away spitefully. Neville was now blatantly nude; Professor Flitwick lunged for Neville lustily. Neville darted away from the professor and joined the charade on the stage, picking up a thong somewhere along the way. He must camouflage amid these dancers to avoid Professor Flitwick – lest he should lose control of his emotions and snog his love in public…how embarrassing that should be.

At this sight, Ginny squealed in surprise and ran backstage, not wanting to see anymore of this disgusting display of the human body. Backstage, she found Ron struggling to fit into his tiny green thongs with difficulty, and covered her eyes in horror. Lord, She thought, my brother has a nice butt.

But whatever happened to Hermione? She was of course peeking happily behind the changing curtains at Ron's bum (How yummy, she thought). Unfortunately, she was underage. A big blur was over vital areas. "Gosh darn it." With that sentence, Hermione suddenly went through Spontaneous Combustion and disappeared in a puff of smoke, causing the curtains for burn in the explosion. Ron turned and dashed to where Hermione once stood, peeking on him.

"My love!" He cried, funky green thong lying forgotten on the ground. He promptly went through Spontaneous Combustion as well and vanished in a puff of smoke.

Ginny laughed shrilly, and licked her thumb. It tasted like mustard. "Yummy," she said, and searched for a sandwich to wipe her thumb on. Dennis Creevey entered through the back door and struck her over the head with a large folding chair, WWF style. He roared and waved his hands over his head, Stonecold Austin style.

"ACK!" The folding chair turned Ginny into a toothless old crone. "Menopause!" She cried! "I'm no longer attracted to men!" She reached out to seized Dennis’ leather clad legs, "Oh! Oh, turn me back!" But Dennis bounced against padded wall and threw her away, Sting style, and left through the stage door to join the audience to watch Neville attempt to dance.

And Neville was not a bad pole dancer!. The crowd showered him with Sickles, Knuts and lint they picked out of their bellybuttons.

Ginny wailed in despair and made her way into a chair amid the audience, trying to get herself interested.

Gabrielle Delacour, an innocent blonde maiden stumbled through the front door. "Excuse me, is there a bathroom in heeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEK!" She covered her eyes, but wasn't fast enough to prevent her hormones from taking over. Her feet carried her all the way to the front roll and her fingers found her wallet. She found herself stuffing cashing into the rim of Professor Flitwick's cotton sock. "This is fun!" she said innocently.

But she could not help being the innocent damsel that she was. She had to avert her eyes in fear of burns on her eyeballs. Mrs. Figg, wearing Neville’s yellow shower curtain, turned her back and hooted, "I'm too sexy for you anyway."

Gabrielle threw out her hand to hit Mrs. Figg for her rudeness, but the old woman dodged. Poor Gabrielle found her palm flattened against none other than Neville's round bum.

"Feisty!" Neville cried, grabbing her hand and dragging her on stage. He chuckled in delight and began to force-teach Gabrielle how to dance.

"Boo!" cried the audience. "She's still dressed."

Gabrielle struggled out of Neville's infirm grasp and went into Spontaneous Combustion and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

[Do you see a pattern anywhere?]

The audiences were disappointed and shuffled out of the door, grumbling. A moment later, there was a large "poof" as they all went through Spontaneous Combustion and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"NOOOOOOO! DON'T GOOOOOOOoooooooo...." Neville was so upset that he went through Spontaneous Combustion and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

The strip bar, seeing that everyone had Spontaneously Combusted in a puff of smoke, Spontaneously Combusted as well in a puff of smoke...

So why was Hermione still aware of it all?

Suddenly, she jerked awake, and was just about to sigh with relief when her floor gave away.

Her mouth was open as she prepared to rupture some eardrums with a scream.

Suddenly, she jerked awake, and was just about to sign with relief when her floor gave away.

She jerked awake again, clutching to her bedpost tightly, soaked through and through with cold sweat (Ugh, she thought, I smell like gorilla armpit). She pinched herself and it hurt. Just as she was about to sigh deeply with relief, her bed moved ominously, then it gave away...

A hand jerked her awake, "Miss Granger?"

Hermione opened her eye and looked up to see a concerned Professor Flitwick...in his thong. Slowly, she closed her eyes and willed for Spontaneous Combustion.