The Scarlett Letter

A/N: Yes, I'm back again! I had a whole, whole lot of fun writing this chapter, so I think you guys will really enjoy it, too. It's uber-long, so thank me in a review!

Disclaimer: Ours is essentially a tragic age, so I don't own Harry Potter. Nor do I own the first part of the disclaimer--that belongs to D. H. Lawrence. Darn it!

Chapter Four

Competition and Conspirators

With Friday morning came Scarlett's second newsletter, much to the delight of the boys and the horror of the girls. The cover was even more revealing that last time. Scarlett now stood in what appeared to be a gaudy harem, clad in an improperly-secured bedsheet and surrounded by half-naked men that were bowing low at her feet. In the background the rest of the harlots were slinking away jealously, most of them covered up by big, red letters that read, "SCARLETT RETURNS!" Some excerpts from this new newsletter:

A Quick Story About Sausages

This happened to me just this past Tuesday night. I was in a strip club in London, taking notes for my new movie "The Back Entrance." And here I was, minding my own business, when in walked Minister of Magic Fudge himself! Apparently he has some activities he keeps a dark secret. . .

Well, you know me--I love a challenge. And my character in the movie also seduces the Prime Minister of England (remember, this is one of the Muggle movies). So, as Fudge was watching the strippers with a goofy smile on his face, I sauntered over with an exaggerated swing of my hips. "Hello," I said, pretending to be just another Muggle, just as he thought I thought he was. "That's a sexy lime-green bowler hat you're wearing."

I swear his pants didn't start tenting until I talked to him. He blushed a bright red and mumbled, "Um, thanks." He didn't look at my eyes, but more at some spot in the middle of my chest (Merlin, I can only imagine why).

"And that lovely pinstripe cloak!" I continued. "Oh, it makes you look so trim and fit."

Good God, and he even believed me. I honestly thought he needed to chuck that awful thing in the fire, along with his stupid hat--it looked like his head was stuck in a bowling ball!

"Oh, um, yeah," he replied. "I, er, work out every day."

Liar.

"I can tell," I replied. "Do you think. . . any chance I could see those workout muscles?"

"I was about to ask you the same question!" he said joyously, staring overtly at my breasts.

Pervert.

To be honest, it was actually nothing of a challenge to drag him off to some motel and strip him naked. Then we shagged each other. He was absolute rubbish. But there is one thing I will never forget about him, however much I wish to.

He seriously looked like a sausage. Like a skinny link sausage, no less, not a big, fat Bratwurst. Ugh. It was absolutely disgusting. I think I left sometime in the middle of the night, then went home and took an endless shower.

Anyway, I awoke the next morning and took breakfast in a small restaurant off Charing Cross Road. I ordered a breakfast plate, all ready to eat a large, healthy meal.

Wouldn't you know, it came with link sausage. It lay there, wrinkled and brown on my place and dripping with grease. I thought of Fudge and nearly threw up in my mouth. But I began eating anyway. I put off the sausage until last. Then I speared it on a fork and put the meat in my mouth.

I took it out immediately and threw it away, feeling nauseous. I swear, I'm never doing a government official again.

~~~~~

Flower Sonnet

I hold a crimson flower in my hands;

A young man holds me in his firm embrace.

I stroke its scarlet petals where it stands

Aflow'ring, and it sets my heart arace.

My young man also strokes his crimson prize,

His hands aflow upon by back and breast

And all my being, enraptured in my eyes.

I stroke the flow'r, and let him stroke the rest.

I peel a petal from my scarlet rose;

He peels my clothing from my silky skin;

The petal falls and curls beneath my toes,

My clothing falls to let my young man in.

The rose I ravish, deadened to its plight;

It's me he'll ravish, deep into the night.

~~~~~

If the pictures were revealing last time, it was nothing compared to the ones in this issue. Scarlett seemed to like the idea of clothes even less than before, while she favored even more studs and a variety of disgraced, outdone women in the background.

Most notable in this issues was Scarlett's choice of bras. No ordinary top could do--she had to be extraordinary. In a photo of her sitting by a sewing machine she wore two thimbles, as she seemed short of alva jars; she also seemed short of panties, for, although her legs curved conveniently enough to hide her privates, only a mere thread ran around her waist as an impromptu thong. In another Wizarding photo she found that the groping hands of one of her thong-clad men made the best bra. It yet another photo, this time beach-themed, she seemed to have lost her top and bottom completely, and thought that piling sand atop her privates would cover herself sufficiently.

Needless to say, after the initial clamor over Hogwarts breakfast, she left the guys speechless for quite some time. All they could do was clutch their newsletters in their hands and stare, disoriented, at the provocative pictures.

The boys weren't the only ones at a loss for words. Lavender and Parvati goggled at their copy, though they weren't nearly impressed as their male classmates. Lavender looked barely able to speak, and Parvati could only whisper wonderingly, "What does she think she is, some kind of porn star?"

"Obviously," Hermione said cheerfully.

Ginny leaned forward and eagerly requested, "Read us one of the poems, Lav!"

Lavender looked up with a hesitant expression. "They're very explicit, Ginny," she said doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

"Read the least explicit poem, then," Ginny prompted happily.

"This one," Parvati said, pointing, "the one entitle 'Flower Sonnet' is possibly the least graphic. How about I read that one?"

So she did. Harry and Ron listened to the composition, after which Harry decided to take his best friend to visit Dobby in the kitchens before he succumbed to the newsletter's temptations.

On their way down the empty stone corridors Ron pulled out a letter he received at breakfast. "It's from Scarlett," he said dubiously. "I'm almost afraid to open it."

"I'll do it for you," Harry offered. So Ron handed him the letter, and Harry pawed open the sealed letter with his fingertips, as his fingernails were too short to slit the wax.

"Read it aloud," Ron prompted him.

"Okay," Harry said, flicking open the letter. "Here it is:

'Dear Ron,

Hermione's told me all about you. I know this isn't the best advertisement for my newsletter, but I must say that I'm proud of you for canceling the subscription. Apparently you are every bit as good as Hermione describes you. You deserve her.

Sincerely,

Scarlett

P.S. I have enclosed a refund.' "

Harry handed over the refund money, and Ron grinned widely as he let the gold and silver run through his fingers. Harry shook his head and said, "See, wasn't it worth it?"

"You needn't have told me after last night," Ron said, his eyes suddenly glazing over at the memory. "Hermione and I spent a glorious age in that broom cupboard on a most serious expedition."

Harry smiled wryly as they reached the painting of a bowl of fruit. "I'm sure you did," he said, sounding quite pleased with himself.

"And it's all thanks to you," Ron said. "If you hadn't made me see sense, I'm sure it wouldn't have happened. So thanks a lot, mate."

"Hey, what are friends for?" Harry said as he reached up to tickle the pear.

~~~~~

Unfortunately, Malfoy received a letter that was much less satisfactory that Ron's:

Draco,

How dare you go behind my back to your mother?! After I said no, you had no right to convince her to send you the hand of glory. What the hell are you going to do with it anyway? Make kinky sex pose photos?

With my greatest displeasure,

Your Father

**********

By that afternoon the news had spread across the whole school: there was to be another meeting of the Scarlett fan club that very night. Same time, same place: 7:00 that evening in the Gryffindor common room. Every male from first year Slytherin to seventh year Gryffindor had heard about it, and every one of them (bar half-a-dozen at the most) were planning to attend.

Gregory, Vincent, and Draco heard about it right after class when they had just settled down in their dormitory for a quick break. Theodore burst suddenly into the room, shouting, "The next Scarlett fan club meeting's today! I swear, I'm not missing it this time!"

"You're actually going?" Blaise scoffed. "I wouldn't be caught dead with a bunch of Gryffindors; count me out!"

"I'm going with Theo," Gregory said. "No way in hell you're making me skip out on my girl again."

Blaise let out a bark of laughter. "Oh great, another Slytherin has caved in! What's this house coming to? Draco, at least, will have the sense to stay behind."

Draco gulped. "Actually. . . I'm. . ." he stopped. "Yeah, I'm staying behind. I'm with Blaise."

Gregory rounded furiously on Draco, his dull eyes blazing. "Oh? And what about what Scarlett--?"

"Gregory, I'm warning you!" Draco cried, his pale blue eyes matching his friend's in their intensity.

And Gregory stopped mid-sentence, only to let out huff and say, "On your own head be it." And he left it at that.

"What about you, Vincent?" Blaise said, unable to fully keep the menace from his voice. "Certainly you aren't going? Vincent?"

For Vincent wasn't answering; he held one of his thick puce socks in his hands and stroked it lovingly.

"What the hell are you doing?" Draco asked his friend. "You aren't masturbating your sock again, are you?"

"No, I've spelled it," Vincent said proudly. "Now, whenever someone else other than me touches it, they start throwing up. Care to see?" He balled it up and threw it at Draco, who ducked just in time. The sock flew over Draco's bed and landed right on the other side.

"And why would you want to spell a sock to make others throw up?" Draco asked dubiously.

"So that people coughlikeyoucough don't going stealing them!" Vincent said as loftily as he could manage.

"I don't steal your socks!" Malfoy retorted.

Vincent raised his eyebrows. "So whose green socks are on your feet right now?"

Malfoy looked down at his puce-clad toes. "Puce, Vincent," he corrected his friend. "Not green. And all my socks are dirty; I thought you wouldn't mind, seeing as you can't possibly want such ugly socks."

"Watch what you're calling ugly!" Vincent cried, inflamed. "That's my favorite pair you're wearing!"

Malfoy peeled off the socks in disgust and tossed them at Vincent. "If you say so," he said. "I call them my last resort."

Vincent picked up his socks between his thumb and index finger, then raised his wand and spelled them as well. Blaise watched the discourse with a single raised eyebrow. After heaving a longsuffering sigh, he said, "You never answered my question, Vincent. Are you with the fan club, or are you keeping your Slytherin pride?"

"If I may say so," Vincent said, "fuck Slytherin pride. I'm with Theo and Gregory. You two are outnumbered."

Blaise raised his eyes to heaven, as if begging for patience, and huffed out another sigh. Then he plopped down on the bed and pulled out his copy of The Scarlett Letter.

**********

That evening brought along with it a most interesting revelation: Vincent, Gregory, and Theodore Nott weren't the only Slytherin boys planning on attending the Scarlett fan club. About every other boy in the house stampeded for the portrait hole at five minutes to 7:00. Pansy stood at the entrance to the girl's dormitories and watched each boy amidst the mad rush, trying to pick out Draco from among them. She didn't see him.

He's not going after all, she thought to herself. What a relief. Well, I'd better get myself ready. And she rushed off to her dormitory. The place was empty--Daphne and her other friends were down in the common room talking. She quickly flitted over to her trunk and searched through it for a long time before she found a miniscule green thong and a fine silk robe made of a shimmering gray material. She'd do herself up in Slytherin colors--that should make him happy.

Pansy retreated to the bathroom, where she stripped off her school uniform, then her underwear. She stood totally naked in front of the mirror, surveying her body with a trembling lip. For a moment she thought she looked beautiful, but then she suddenly changed her mind. She wasn't beautiful enough to please Draco.

Good gosh, was that a rash on her breast? No wonder Draco finds me so unattractive, she thought miserably. Is there anything else he doesn't like? Are my legs too long, are my hips too wide, my breasts too big? Is it my face or my hair? Am I supposed to get a bikini wax or something? Maybe that would please him. . . or maybe not. God, I don't know my own boyfriend!

~~~~~

At that very moment the object of her affection was currently in his dormitory. Draco Malfoy had changed into his most expensive casual outfit, then saw fit to undo his perfectly-aligned hair, only to realign it perfectly once more. Then, with a quick spell, he shined his 300-galleon shoes, pressed the wrinkles from his shirt and pants, and added a scent of cologne to his person. Then he took one last look at himself in the mirror. Very intimidating, he thought approvingly. Just what I'm going for.

With this completed, Draco left his dormitory. He strode through the Slytherin common room, past Daphne Greengrass and her friends, and out through the stone wall entrance. He took the Hogwarts halls at a quick stride, looking neither left nor right until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Two first-year Gryffindors had swung back her frame so that the portrait hole stood open. They goggled at Draco Malfoy, who swept regally past them without a word and entered the Gryffindor common room.

He immediately cringed. The room was filled with waves of scarlet, gold, and Scarlett. Only the latter looked remotely appealing. The rest crashed tumultuously against his finely-attuned Slytherin tastes. What kind of person could stand even a minute in this blaring, roaring common room, let alone an entire two hours? I swear, if this meeting is any longer than that, I'm outta here. Scarlett only said I had to go; she didn't say I had to stay.

Draco looked desperately for a familiar face amidst the throng of overexcited males, all of whom were waving around copies of their newsletter. He saw Blaise a moment later, just as Colin lifted his wand into the air and let out a couple of loud red firecrackers to restore order.

"Well, here we are for our second meeting of the unofficial Scarlett fan club," Colin said happily. "Let's celebrate the release of Scarlett's second issue. Come on, tell me it was awesome!"

"AWESOME!" screamed the titillated crowd.

"I can't hear you!" Colin screamed back.

"AWESOME!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!"

"AWESOME!!!"

Draco winced at the unwatchably unintelligent spectacle and stopped beside Blaise. "I can't believe you came to this," he muttered. "What happened to 'I wouldn't be caught dead with a bunch of Gryffindors'?"

Blaise gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. "I don't know what made me do it," he answered mildly. "But, as you can see, I am alive and well. You have most certainly not caught me dead with this bunch."

Draco raised his fine eyebrows a mile high. "Talk about stretching the truth," he said, sardonic. "What are we supposed to do at this miserable place?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out," Blaise said. "Boot was saying something about admiring Scarlett's pictures and writing poems and drawing pictures of her."

"Good God, are we in preschool?" Draco said, horrified. "What kind of self-respecting teenager draw pictures for something like this?"

Blaise pointed up to a large banner that overhung the proceedings. "Well, Dean drew a montage of images that depict Scarlett copulating a wide variety of people at this school. See, he drew himself and Scarlett the biggest in the middle, but he also included her with people like Harry, you, Dumbledore, and Professor Vector."

"Why Professor Vector?" Draco asked, making a face. "That's the craziest thing I ever heard."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Blaise agreed.

~~~~~

Pansy, meanwhile, had pulled out her makeup kit and wand. She touched up every spot on her body, including the rash on her breast, so that now she stood absolutely unblemished in front of the full bathroom mirror. She had even used a spell to give her breasts a lift and another to give her pubic hair a chocolate scent. If there was one thing she knew about Draco, it was that he was a sucker for chocolate.

She lifted up her green thong and also gave it the chocolate spell. Then she slipped it on, where it covered nothing. She pulled on her gray silk robe with trembling hands. It buttoned once at the waist, then fell against her body, clinging to every curve. Pansy waved her wand once more, and the robe suctioned itself against her like a second skin. The neckline jutted past her breasts, only a mere centimeter from the nipples, and down to the button just above her thong. She might as well have been naked.

She eyed herself in the mirror one last time, then pulled her towel off her rack and wrapped it around herself. Then she left her dormitory.

Pansy reached the common room a minute later. Her eyes met with Daphne's, and for a moment her friend simply stared at her.

"What's with the towel?" Daphne asked at last.

"I need to talk to my boyfriend," Pansy said, undoing the towel briefly for her friend's benefit. Daphne raised her eyebrows, and Pansy covered herself again.

"It's too late to talk to him now," Daphne informed her friend. "He left half-an-hour ago. I suspect he's gone to the Scarlett fan club meeting."

"Dammit," Pansy muttered aloud, though inside her heart plummeted miserably. So Draco had gone to the meeting. Why did he do this to her? She was the perfect girlfriend for him--she gave him everything he wanted! Why couldn't he give her what she wanted?

"So what are you going to do?" Daphne said.

Pansy shrugged. "Wait in his room until he comes back, I guess," she said. She trudged off towards the boy's dormitories, sighing sadly to herself.

She reached Malfoy's room a moment later and bumped smack-dab into Theodore Nott as he rushed out, his shoes on the wrong feet and his Scarlett newsletter clutched in his hand. He gave a startled yell and stared at Pansy. "Whoa, what are you doing, wandering around in a towel?" he asked with a smirk.

"Shut up, Tad," Pansy snarled, now wishing that she had thought of wearing a bathrobe or something else less conspicuous.

"And why are you trying to get into our dormitory?"

"I said SHUT UP!" Pansy repeated menacingly. So Theodore dropped the conversation, but still muttered under his breath as he went in the opposite direction. When he was out of view, she slipped into his dormitory. Closing the door behind her, she leapt onto Malfoy's bed and drew the curtains, then waited. The only thing she had to pass the time was Malfoy's copy of The Scarlett Letter, which he had inadvertently left behind.

~~~~~

"I wonder what Brown and Patil are doing here?" Blaise remarked to Draco.

"Lavender and. . . and. . .?"

"Parvati," Blaise prompted him.

"No idea," Draco said. "I'll bet they're having more fun that I am. It looks like they're. . . taking notes or something."

"I'll bet they're observing the meeting," Blaise guessed. "Patil's sister Padma told me that those two are obsessed with boys and gossip. I guess this is the perfect place for them."

"So they are having more fun than I am," Draco said dully. "All we've been doing is sitting here listening to inane poems and redundant discussions about Scarlett."

"I dunno, I've been enjoying myself," Blaise said. "I might try my hand out at a poem, or maybe a drawing."

Draco groaned and put his head in his hands. "What happened to Slytherin pride?" he bemoaned.

"It's as Vincent so eloquently put it," Blaise said. "Fuck Slytherin pride." And he went off to join Dean in a drawing.

Draco watched his retreating friend with a huge, prolonged sigh. He glanced over at Parvati and Lavender and the small group of Gryffindor girls that sat around them. Then he pulled out a piece of parchment and a pen.

Thirty minutes later Draco held a poem in his hand. He read it once, then reread it. He let out a sigh.

"Ah, Malfoy, have you written a poem?" Colin said excitedly. "That's wonderful! Can you read it to us?"

"Will I?" Draco corrected him stiffly. "No chance in hell."

"Aw, come on," Colin wheedled. "Be a good sport. We all want to hear it."

But he wasn't entirely correct, for at that moment Seamus appeared behind him and said loudly, "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Half the room stopped talking and turned to look at the pair of them.

"What does it look like?" Draco replied, even more stiffly. "I'm obviously here for the meeting."

"And what if we don't want you here?" Seamus said rudely. "You hate us, and we hate you. So there's no reason why you should spend another moment with us."

"Oh?" Draco said loftily. "And if I don't want to leave?" The other half of the room had also stopped talking by now.

"Then we'll force you!" Seamus retorted loudly.

Draco sighed, longsuffering. "Ah, but it so happens that I was about to share my wonderful poem with this fan club. Certainly you won't stop me from doing that?"

"Watch me!" Seamus challenged him.

"But that's no fair!" cried a seventh-year Slytherin. "You only want him out because he's Slytherin!"

"That's not true!" Seamus defended himself. "He's a stinking Malfoy, that's why!"

"Why don't you just kick our entire house out, if you don't want us?" the Slytherin continued, much aflamed.

"Maybe we should!" Seamus snarled.

Immediately half the Slytherins began yelling in outrage, while the Gryffindors began shouting back. A few of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws threw in their protests for good measure, and the room was in an uproar.

Colin stood on top of large oaken table in the middle of the room and let out another series of scarlet firecrackers from his wand before the crowd gradually fell silent again. "Come on, guys," he said, placating, "I want everyone in this school to enjoy Scarlett. The Slytherins included. We all may not have gotten along in the past, but now we're all joined by a common bond: a sexy porn star called Scarlett. So let's enjoy this moment. What do you think, Terry and Dean?"

"I'm fine with it, Colin," Dean insisted.

"The more, the merrier!" Terry said brightly.

"Sorry, Seamus, you'll have to deal with it," Colin said. "But it'll be just fine--you'll see."

Seamus muttered something like, "I bet I won't." But he crossed his arms and didn't say another word.

Colin grinned shakily. "Glad we straightened that out. You can read your poem now, Malfoy. Only I promised Euan he could go first. You can perform after he does."

"Thank you very much, Creevey," Malfoy said suavely. He stood behind the oaken table while Colin stepped away to make room for Euan Abercrombie.

"Er," said Euan. "This is a poem called "I Love Her." It's, um, sort of free verse." He cleared his throat nervously and began:

"Scarlett

Is great and very nice.

She has a great body and

Good hair. Wow, she's fine.

Yep, absolutely gorgeous.

Yes indeed. I'll

Eat her up and

Enjoy it.

I think I love

Her. No, I

Know I love her."

Draco winced at every single line. That wasn't poetry, free verse or otherwise! It was horny gibberish. And it probably took the poor drip and hour to write it.

"Your turn, Malfoy," Colin whispered once Euan stepped off the table to mediocre applause.

I don't know how I got myself into this, Draco thought to himself. Oh well. At least I'll do better than Euan. He ascended the oak table and stood nervously with his paper in hand.

He took a deep breath, then, glancing over at the group of Gryffindor girls, began his poem.

"I don't know if I know her,

And I know that she doesn't know me.

I hope that her heart I can stir,

Yet I know that it's hopeless. You see:

I see her a god among girls,

And a being to whom I'll stay true;

Yet she says I'm churl among churls.

Oh, I wish there's something I could do."

The whole room was silent, as if sure that there was more to go. Draco gulped and looked down at his piece of paper. Why, oh why did I read this out loud? He asked himself. Was it just to show Seamus I could get my own way? It's officially the stupidest decision I've ever made. He sighed and balled up the paper, then threw it to the ground. He stood up on the table for only a moment longer. Then, after one last glance at the Gryffindor girls, he leapt down and strode from the silent common room.

~~~~~

Parvati and Lavender stared at Draco's retreating back, their eyes wide. "You wrote it all down, didn't you?" Lavender whispered to her best friend.

"Yeah," Parvati whispered back. She wasn't the only one speaking; a whole host of whispers joined her own as the males and females all wondered over Draco's strange opus. "That was so out-of-character for Draco."

"It was," Lavender agreed, barely able to say anything else.

"Of course," Parvati added, "the part where he kept ogling every single one of us girls was most definitely not out-of-character. Ew, I get a creepy feeling every time his eyes are on me! Yuck."

**********

Pansy jumped when Draco pushed open his dormitory door. She quickly threw her towel and the Scarlett magazine aside and lay on the bed, perfectly still.

Draco entered, his silver-blond hair illuminated in the moonlight. "Is someone in there?" he said softly. He flicked on his bedside lamp, then pulled aside the curtains.

He saw Pansy lying on his bed in a revealing, gray silk robe and jumped backwards in shock. "Oh, it's you," he said once he regained his breath.

"Yes, it is me," Pansy whispered, lacing her voice with honey-sweet seduction. "Come here, Draco."

He didn't move from his position, but simply said, "Why?"

"Because I need you," Pansy replied even quieter than before. "I need you, Draco. I love you. . ." She let the words hang in the air, unsure if he would believe her.

Draco's breath quickened as he moved closer to his girlfriend. She leaned forward until his fingers were an inch from her breasts. A deep sorrow filled his gaze as he reached out and touched the neckline of her silk robe. He ran his finger along its edge until he reached the button at the waist. He paused for a moment, but she unbuttoned the robe for him, and it whispered from her body and was lost in the darkness.

For an eternal moment Draco stared at her smooth, firm breasts and soft, gently-defined stomach. Then he reached down and slowly pulled away Pansy's green thong. It, too, slipped to the floor and was lost from sight. She stood up slowly, her entire body bare and exposed before him.

He let one hand float hesitantly towards her. It landed gently on her breast, which he slowly massaged beneath his fingers. She felt his delicate fingertips run over her nipple, then slide carefully down her stomach, then to her waist. . .

He drew his hand away suddenly, and she was amazed to see a tear wending its way down his cheek. "Put your clothes back on," he said softly, his voice a cracked whisper.

She hadn't heard him correctly--that could be the only explanation. "What?" she said in a small, vulnerable voice.

"Put you clothes back on," he repeated, this time more firmly. He sank into his bed and turned his face away from her.

"But. . . Draco, don't you want me?"

Draco turned to face her again, his eyes swimming with tears. "You're perfect, Pansy," he said softly. "You really are. But. . ." he turned away again, and she knew he was crying.

"There's someone else, isn't there?" Pansy said, tears filling her own eyes.

Draco nodded slowly.

"Who is it?" Pansy asked miserably, wiping her tears as they streamed down her cheeks.

Draco didn't answer at first, then whispered, "I don't know if I know her, and I know that she doesn't know me. . ."

"What?" Pansy sniffled, unable to stem the flow of her tears.

"I'm sorry, Pansy," Draco said. "But I can't be with you, not since I'm about to break up with you as it is."

"You want to end this?" Pansy cried. Her weeping had turned her cheeks raw. "We've been together for two years, and you want to forget it all?"

"Yes," Draco said. "Once again, I'm sorry."

Pansy was sobbing. She reached down and picked up her thong and silver robe. And, as she stood up, her elbow brushed against a puce sock that lay balled at the edge of Draco's bed.

It happened immediately. Pansy bent double and heaved up her dinner. Roast chicken, green beans, treacle, and gastric juices burned their way up her throat and rocketed forth from her mouth and all across her clothes. She gasped and stood up. She was naked and splattered from the neck down in her own vomit.

She bent over again and threw up all over Draco's bed. He jumped in shock and stared at her. "Hot damn, it can't be that upsetting?" he cried. He watched in stunned shock as she vomited down her front. Then he saw Vincent's puce sock, and his eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, it was Crabbe's. I can set you right."

"FUCK YOU, MALFOY!!" Pansy screamed through a mouthful of vomit. Chunks spewed over her tongue and across Malfoy's forest green comforter. She lunged across his bed and grabbed her towel. The last thing she saw before she ran, bawling and vomiting, from the room was Malfoy's copy of The Scarlett Letter.

"FUCK SCARLETT!" she screamed around another wave of throw-up. "FUCKING, BLEEDING, CUNTING WHORE!"

She wrapped her towel around her naked body and ran from the boy's dormitory, holding her sodden clothes in one hand while her other hand secured the towel. She ran into the common room, wailing and spewing.

Daphne jumped up in shock at the sight of her friend. "Good gosh, Pansy!" she cried. "It didn't go that badly, did it? What did he do to you? Finite Incantatum."

Pansy stopped vomiting and immediately began yelling, her mouth spewing the projectiles of remaining vomit. "We need a girl's meeting in the Room of Requirement right away! Get everyone you can! We're going to get back at Scarlett if it's the LAST THING WE DO!!"

**********

Sent to Lucius Malfoy by eagle owl:

Damn, Father,

Calm down for just a moment, will you? I wanted my hand of glory, and since you were being such an ass, I had to impose myself upon my dearest mother to get her to send it up. You are the one without a brain in this case. And as for what I'm going to do with it? None of you business! But I'm mostly definitely NOT going to make kinky sex pose photos with it!! Shit, you're an absolute pervert.

Draco

~~~~~

Scarlett, also, received a whole host of letters, most praising her new newsletter:

Dear Scarlett,

I'm most sorry for my recent behavior. I went to your fan club meeting today and even wrote a poem while I was there. Oh, and I've finally gotten my hand of glory. So I took some kinky sex pose photos for you. They're enclosed in this letter. Great newsletter, by the way.

All my love,

Draco

~~~~~

My loveliest Scarlett,

I couldn't speak for a full hour after I got your newsletter today. You left me breathless as always, and I could only stare at your unsurpassed beauty. No girl could ever measure up to you--ever.

Some great things are happening here at Hogwarts right now. Draco let us go to the fan club today, and he even went himself and wrote a poem. . . which was strange, because I never thought of him as a poet before. Oh, and I also managed to give him a punch like you asked me, though I had to run away from him for the rest of the day. But it was worth it.

The Gryffindors aren't a bad bunch. I made friends with Dean Thomas, and he showed me how to draw you. So I drew a picture of us together, which I've enclosed in this letter. I spent three hours on it. Vincent also entered the spirit of things. He and Cormick McClaggan spent nearly the whole meeting talking about your pictures. As for Hermione, I've never been mean to her in my entire life. Of course, Malfoy calls her Mudblood and all that ('cause he's a Malfoy), but she punched him in the nose (which was really, really funny). So it's all good now. . . in a sense. At least, it's even.

As for the date at Hogsmeade, bring it on! I'll be there with bells on.

With the greatest of love,

Gregory

~~~~~

Lovely Scarlett,

Should I start signing my letters as Moaning Myrtle? I think I will, if it makes you happy. I was bowled over by your astounding newsletter today. I hope to see many more like it! In the meantime, I'll reread the first two and go to a quiet corner to wank off. As for a nickname for you, what about Open Rose? I like the idea of you being wide open. And the rose part. . . I dunno, it just sounded cool. Thanks for being so beautiful.

With all my love,

Moaning Myrtle (a.k.a. Zacharias)

~~~~~

Hey, Scarlett,

Okay, just one complaint about your new newsletter: WAY too much clothing! This stuff isn't even soft core--take it off, take it off! Otherwise, it was awesome. Keep up the good work!

Lotsa Love,

Terry Boot, Co-Assistant Leader of the Unofficial Scarlett Fan Club

~~~~~

Dear Scarlett,

I must say, I am favorably impressed with your newsletter. I confess that I spent a good deal of class reading it under my desk--and I'm the teacher! Not even my last girlfriend was as beautiful as you are. You needn't answer this letter; I just wanted to tell you how much I'm enjoying your work.

Sincerely,

Verity Vector

**********

By 9:00 that Friday night just about every girl from every year from every house had made their way into the Room of Requirement, which had turned itself in a spacious meeting hall with great acoustics and a myriad of plush beanbag couches.

Pansy still wore her bathroom towel (she hadn't even taken the time to head back up to her dormitory, so mad was she). She had dropped her vomit-soaked clothing at the entrance of her common room, and on the way to the Room of Requirement she had allowed Daphne to cast some spells to clean her up from the incident in Draco's room. Now she stood irate on the stage in the midst of the crowd, holding a large purple megaphone not unlike the one McGonagall was fond of using.

"Scarlett's trying to take away our boys from us!" she yelled to the throng before her.

"She most certainly is!" Lavender called out, her voice carrying over the others around her. "Seamus hasn't paid me one jot of attention since that infernal newsletter this morning!"

"We aren't going to take this lying down, girls!" Pansy shrieked. "WE AREN'T, ARE WE?"

"NOOOOO!!!" The girls screamed.

"Can I hear a FUCK, NO!?!"

"FUCK, NOOOOOO!!!"

"Can I hear SCARLETT'S AN INSANE BITCH THAT'S TRYING TO STEAL ALL OUR BOYFRIENDS!?!?!"

"SCARLETT'S AN INSANE BITCH!!!"

"Good enough!" Pansy said, then let out her breath in a huff, suddenly feeling exhausted. All that yelling was doing her in. "We need a conspiracy against this puffed-up porn star. She's trying to steal our boys, so guess what: we're going to steal them back! Who's with me?"

The girls let out a deafening cheer and jumped up from their beanbag chairs to pump their fists in the air. Their yells echoed from one corner of the room to the next, then up to the rafters that hovered fifty feet above them. For a full minute Pansy let them vent their pent-up frustration against the promiscuous scarlet woman that had captured the attentions of all the boys in the school.

After a long while, Pansy finally waved her hand for silence, and the room calmed down. "Okay, we've done enough yelling," she said. "Now it's time to talk it out like proper ladies. First things first: we need a leader of this rabble--or leaders, as the case may be."

"I'll be a leader!" cried an overexcited Romilda Vane.

Pansy acknowledged the fourth-year Gryffindor's volunteering statement. "Any objections?"

"But I want to be a leader!" Parvati called out. "And so does Lavender!"

Daphne hastily ascended to her best friend's side. "Remember, we can have more than one leader. Lavender, Parvati, and Romilda, come up here." The three Gryffindor girls did as they were told, and Daphne surveyed them all. "Anyone else want to head this little conspiracy?"

The girls were silent for a few moments before Cho spoke for them all, "We're fine with it. We're just anxious to get on to the actual conspiring."

"Right, then," Daphne said. "Us five on the stage will be the leaders of The Conspiracy. Together we'll

outdo anything Scarlett tries to pitch at the boys!"

Hermione raised her hand hesitantly, and Daphne motioned for her to speak. "Um, I don't know if I can really take part in this," she said. "I mean no offense to anyone here, but Scarlett's my friend, and I'd feel like I'm betraying her by being here. I think I'd better take a neutral stance in this war."

"That makes sense," Daphne said fairly. "If anyone else wishes not to take an active role in this, we are not forcing you to stay."

For a moment Hermione was the only one who headed towards the door. Then Ginny stood up and followed her, muttering, "I can't leave her all on her lonesome." But, on the way out, she whispered to Luna, "Make sure to tell us everything that happens." The blond Ravenclaw nodded silently.

Everyone else remained still and expectant.

"So we'll be making our own magazine," Lavender said, glancing at the other leaders for affirmation.

"Yes," Pansy said firmly. "The boys are going to fall for us like they'd never do for Scarlett. They know us. Who wouldn't rather see sexy pictures of someone they know over a total stranger?

"Good point," Katie Bell called out from the audience. "But we can't make a newsletter without pictures. Where are we going to do our photo shoot?"

"Hmm," Pansy said. "Good question. What do you think, girls? Do you have an idea, Parvati, Lavender? Romilda? Daphne? . . . Anyone?"

"Obviously somewhere where the teachers can't find us," Lavender said. "It'd be a nightmare if they walked in on us." She shuddered at the thought.

"The Astronomy Tower?" Eloise Midgen hazarded from her lemon-yellow beanbag couch.

"That's a favorite patrol area," Lavender said dismissively. "I think the teachers actually enjoy walking in on snogging couples in that place.

"But I've gotten away with it before," Eloise persisted. "Me and my, um, date were on the ground behind the statue of Gregoras the Dying at the top of the stairs, and Dumbledore walked right past us without noticing."

"Good point," Luna piped up mildly.

"Except that we can't conduct an entire photo shoot behind the statue of Gregoras the Dying," Pansy pointed out.

The girls sighed and fell into a pensive silence.

"The Quidditch pitch?" Katie Bell suggested.

"Great," Daphne said sarcastically. "We can freeze our asses off in the middle of snowstorm that way. The perfect photo shoot."

"The Kitchens," Orla Quirke, a second-year Ravenclaw offered.

"Not even the house-elves are that accommodating," Daphne said dryly.

"Any of the House common rooms?" Pansy said. "No, we want our newsletter to be a surprise for the boys, and they'd definitely get in our way if we did the shoot there."

"The Great Hall."

"How in Merlin's name would we get away with that?"

"The Owlery."

"Yuck."

"The Greenhouses."

"The Dungeons."

"The Forbidden Forest."

"No chance in hell, no chance in hell, and no chance in hell."

None of the suggestions seemed to work, and there were many. Just where could a couple hundred girls conduct a photo shoot in their school? A castle as big as Hogwarts should hold some place capable of housing these girls without being too risky, dangerous, or unaccommodating.

But where exactly was that place?

"I know!" Parvati cried out suddenly, her face lighting up. All the girls turned to look at her and saw that she was pointing at something--a spot on the far wall of their meeting hall. In it stood a small oaken door that had most certainly not been there when they had entered.

"That's our photo shoot," Parvati said assuredly. "That's where we're working."

~~~~~

At that very moment Professor McGonagall sat on Dumbledore's desk in his office, heaving a sigh.

"You were just about to tell me something," Dumbledore prompted her as he took a seat.

"You have heard of this. . . Scarlett business, haven't you?" McGonagall said Scarlett's name as she was forming the word around a mouthful of knarls.

Dumbledore nodded once. "I have indeed heard about our infamous Scarlett. Quite a character."

"It's not in the least bit amusing, Albus," McGonagall said severely. "She's a menace to the entire student body."

Albus spread his hands wide in a shrug. "I don't see how, Minerva."

"She's turned them all into--sex-craving maniacs!" McGonagall cried. "It's very embarrassing to watch. I'm. . . ashamed to be their teacher, even!"

"Tainted by association?" Dumbledore said mildly.

"Exactly!" McGonagall agreed. "We must do something about this!"

"Like what?" Dumbledore said. She could swear his eyes were twinkling.

"Like. . . like. . . ban the newsletter or something!" McGonagall suggested. "Get it far away from this school."

"Ah, ban The Scarlett Letter," Dumbledore said, the twinkle growing in his blue eyes. "I do believe that would have much the same effect as when Dolores banned The Quibbler."

McGonagall looked immediately contrite that she had suggested anything remotely reminiscent of Ex-Professor Umbridge. "Okay, maybe that wouldn't work entirely. But we must do something!"

"Perhaps we could bring up the topic at our staff meeting on Monday," Dumbledore suggested.

"Perhaps we'd best," McGonagall said, her expression darkening. "Oh, Albus, I swear something awful is going to come out of this."

Dumbledore simply put his steepled fingers together and smiled benignly. "I'm afraid I can't agree with you," he said. "Something good always comes out of. . . 'disasters' like this."

His twinkling smile widened, and McGonagall rolled her eyes.

~~~~~

Luna was the first to move towards the door. She glided gently through the gathering of girls and rested her hand upon the doorknob. She turned it, and the door swung open to reveal an absolute heaven.

The girls followed after her in awed silence into a room even more gigantic than their meeting hall. A maze of sets filled the place, and oh. . .! No photo set had ever looked so beautifully realistic! A gigantic pussy willow cast its shade across a sparkling river that wounds it way down to a real one-hundred-foot waterfall. Another set revealed a lily-filled pool of shimmering water bathed in a spotlight from above that truly looked like the sun. Parvati ran forward through a curtain of beads to find a large, bawdily-decorated bedroom that would not have been out of place in a whorehouse. Pansy found a tiny alcove that looked suspiciously like her favorite snogging spot in the library. Demelza Robins discovered the most opulent broom closet any of them (even the rich Purebloods) had ever seen. Eloise Midgen found a life-size replica of the top of the Astronomy Tower, complete with real stone. Katie Bell ran across a scene that looked exactly liked the Quidditch locker rooms. Luna found a woodland set filled with lifelike animals, both magical and nonmagical, that moved in impossibly realistic ways. This was, of course, just a few sets out of the many.

"We have everything here we could possibly want!" Pansy cried happily. "I'll bet we could take a thousand

photographs, and none of them would look remotely the same."

"And look at this collection of costumes!" Daphne cried in delight as she stuck her head of out a closet bigger than her dormitory that was filled entirely with clothes. "We can dress in anything we like; each outfit comes in every size imaginable!"

"And we even have our own dressing rooms!" a third-year Hufflepuff cried excitedly.

"Take a look at this gigantic makeup room!"

"And these mirrors! There must be a hundred of them!"

"And these cameras! Wow, I never knew there were so many kinds!"

"This is wicked awesome!"

The girls had never been so happy before. They each decided that the Room of Requirement was Hogwart's best room, for today it had given them true magic.

"Okay, everyone," Romilda called out, "we need to start organizing ourselves. We need makeup artists, set workers, photographers, set directors, and, most importantly, models. And that's just for the photo shoot. Afterwards we'll need writers and artists and editors and a publisher to set up our magazine."

"If we can set up the magazine by noon on Sunday I can get my dad to run up a couple hundred copies," Luna offered. "Then we could release it on Monday."

"Excellent!" Daphne said happily, giving Luna a friendly nod. "How about Romilda and I start giving everyone their assignments? Pansy, Parvati, Lavender--you guys start conducting the photo shoots."

"Will do," Pansy said.

Of course, as no one yet had their tasks, all Pansy could do at first was stand around talking to Parvati and Lavender. As Daphne and Romilda began signing up eager models, Parvati broke the silence.

"So, Pansy, now that we're working together, I have a request to make."

Pansy nodded cautiously. "Name it," she said.

"You know Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle quite well, don't you?"

Pansy's face darkened at the sound of her ex-boyfriend's name. "Rather well," she said. "Better than I'd hope."

"Oh good," Parvati said. "See, because we've been having trouble with them."

" 'We've' being me, Parvati, and most of the Gryffindor girls," Lavender put in.

"Yes," Parvati agreed. "Anyway, those three have a real problem keeping their eyes to themselves. I swear, if Malfoy looks at us one more time. . .! I don't know what I'll do."

"Malfoy is nowhere near as bad as Goyle," Lavender argued. "He just sits and stares, as if he's plastering his eyeballs to the chest of each and every girl in the room. It's. . . eurgh. It's just eurgh."

"Yes, they do seem to have that problem," Pansy commented lightly. "Though I haven't really noticed it much in Draco."

"He's the worst of the whole lot, though!" Parvati exclaimed. She shuddered a little too affectedly.

"I don't know," Pansy disagreed ambiguously. "But what do you want me to do about it?"

"Call them off!" Parvati pleaded. "Maybe you could speak to Malfoy about it."

Pansy's expression suddenly turned cold. "No, I can't speak to Draco," she said simply and frostily.

"But why not?" Lavender asked. "He's your boyfriend."

"Not anymore," Pansy answered, unable to fully keep the hurt from her voice. "We broke up not even an hour ago."

Parvati and Lavender immediately assumed sympathetic expressions. "Oh, Pansy, we're so sorry," Parvati said for both of them, giving the Slytherin girl an awkward hug. "If you need anyone to talk to about it, we're right here."

Pansy disengaged the hug after a few seconds. "Hint taken," she said, rearranging her face into a more cheerful expression. "Come on, it looks like we have some models waiting for a set. Let's take care of this shoot."

~~~~~

The photo shoot lasted well into the night. The girls had the time of their lives as they dressed up in revealing outfits and posed promiscuously for the camera. By 1:30 in the morning they had a vast collection of photos and a great deal of film to develop. Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecomb headed off to a darkroom that magically appeared in the back of their studio to take care of the photos. Meanwhile, the rest of the girls got ready to say goodnight.

"Be really careful, now," Pansy advised the crowd after they had finished their goodbye hugs. "It's four-and-a-half hours past curfew, and Filch is sure to be prowling the halls.

"Does he ever sleep, that one?" Katie asked curiously.

"If he does, Mrs. Norris certainly doesn't," Parvati commented. "So be careful. And we'll have to go against our nature and abandon the impulse to travel in large herds."

So they left the Room of Requirement in groups of two and three. As the five leaders of The Conspiracy

watched their members leave, they exchanged yawns.

"I'm fagged out," Parvati remarked as she blinked her eyes. When her four friends stared at her, she said irritably, "Get your minds out of the gutter. Not everything's about sex."

Daphne suddenly grinned. "Speaking of sex," she said, "I have a great idea."

"I'm scared already," Lavender said immediately.

"No, it's a really good one," Daphne promised. "It's about Scarlett."

"What about her?" Pansy asked.

"We can start a bad rumor about her," Daphne said. "One that would make the boys avoid her at all costs.

Lavender brightened. "I've got the perfect idea!" she said. "It'll keep the boys miles from her!" And she pulled her four Conspirators towards her and whispered the secret plan. . .

~~~~~

It really is a good rumor, Pansy reflected half-an-hour later as she made her way back to her dormitory. I would never have thought of it myself. Then again, I'm not Muggle-born. I guess there really are disadvantages to being Pureblood after all. Who'd have known?

At that moment she was jerked rudely from her thoughts as a tall, gray suit of armor at the top of a staircase snagged her by the towel with his sword. The fabric ripped clean in half, and the towel fell to the ground, leaving her naked.

Pansy stifled a moan of annoyance as the suit of armor creaked out a peal of laughter. "Shut it, you fucker!" she hissed at it as she groped in the darkness for her ruined towel. She found the two separate pieces at last and stood up.

"Tell me, Miss Parkinson: is there any explanation at all for this behavior?" The disembodied voice came from the staircase and so startled Pansy that she dropped her towel again. A moment later Severus Snape appeared, his face directly in her breasts.

Pansy took a step backward, feeling her neck burn. Immediately she dipped to the ground and began feeling around for her towel. She found the first piece at Snape's feet. The second half, sadly, seemed to have disappeared.

She hastily pulled herself up again and tried to wrap herself in the pitiful scrap of cloth. It took her a few moments to realize that she could either make herself an impromptu bra or some impromptu panties. She opted for the latter, and held the towel against her privates with her left hand while she covered her breasts with her right arm. Snape watched the entire time, half-amused and half-scornful. Pansy wanted to Apparate away on the spot.

"I am very displeased, Miss Parkinson," Snape said severely. "You have shamed Slytherin house with these antics."

"Erm," squeaked Pansy. Her towel began slipping, but she was so petrified that she couldn't even move to adjust it.

"Do you have any idea how serious this is?" Snape snapped.

"Um, sorry?" Pansy managed to peep.

"I'm giving you a warning this time," Snape said with displeasure. "Next time it's detention."

"Yes, sir," Pansy managed. And Snape swept past her.

Then he turned around. "Oh, and Miss Parkinson?"

Pansy turned around so that he wouldn't be staring at her bum. "Yes, Professor?"

"If you're going to go out at night to. . . see other people, can't you at least last until the morning?"

"It's not like that, Prof--"

"Goodnight, Miss Parkinson." And he left.

Pansy couldn't help it--she started snuffling as she made her way down to the Slytherin common room. By the time she reached her dormitory, she threw herself on her bed without even putting on her pajamas and bawled into her pillow. Then she turned over and fell instantly asleep.

**********

Saturday morning letters:

Dear Moaning Myrtle,

Open Rose. . . what a lovely nickname! I'd love to open up to you. That date on the 18th sounds very tempting right now. I just hope it works out with my schedule. I'd love to see more of you.

Love,

Scarlett

~~~~~

My lovely Draco,

I'll forgive your sins. Thank you for supporting my newsletter and writing a poem at my fan club. I guess you have your righteous side after all. But don't lose all your evil! Evil is what lets us all participate in gigantic orgies and other such illicit activities.

Those hand of glory poses were amazing! I really liked the photo where the hand was fondling you. But my favorite was where you were clutching the hand as you pretended to orgasm. Absolutely erotic. *licks my lips*

With all my love,

Scarlett

~~~~~

Dearest Gregory,

Ah, Hermione did tell me the story about her punching Malfoy. It was the most hilarious thing I've ever heard. She is really quite a nice girl. Make sure to treat her courteously. Hold the door for her and protect her from the dangerous animals in Care of Magical Creatures. In fact, do the same for all girls. I want a courteous boyfriend.

I knew you'd enjoy the Gryffindor's company. I don't see why your houses don't hang around each other more often; opposites attract, after all.

You are by far my sweetest fan. Some dumb boy called Zacharias Smith is calling me Open Rose. When I asked him for a nickname, I was expecting something half-intelligent. I guess I was wrong. But he is a Hufflepuff, so what should have I expected? But you are the only boy right now that I consider a worthy boyfriend. Thank you for being so wonderfully sweet and kind.

Hugs and kisses,

Scarlett

**********

That very morning the following conversation occurred in the nearly-empty Slytherin common room:

"Guess what?" Daphne asked Terrence Higgs, who was the biggest boy gossip she knew.

"What?"

"It's about Scarlett," Daphne said conspiratorially, leaning closer to Terrence. She paused a moment for effect.

". . . And?" Terrence prompted her after a moment.

Daphne sank back into the couch she sat on. "First of all, have you ever heard of HIV?"

Terrence slowly shook his head. "I can't say it rings a bell."

"Well," Daphne said, immediately leaning towards the armchair he sat in, "it's a very dangerous virus. Once you catch it, you have it for your whole life. And it kills you. . . slowly."

"Whoa," Terrence whispered. "And you're not making this up?"

Daphne held up a hand of honor. "I swear," she promised.

"How do you catch it?"

Here Daphne's smile widened. "Some babies catch it from their mums when they leave the birth canal. Other people catch it by mingling blood with infected people."

Terrence listened wide-eyed, drinking in every word.

"But perhaps the most common way to catch the disease," Daphne said, once again pausing for effect, "is having sex with someone who has the disease." Terrence let out a small gasp at this revelation.

"But what does this have to do with Scarlett?" Terrence asked. "This disease sounds like something Muggles deal with. And Scarlett's a witch."

"Very true," Daphne said, leaning even closer. She dropped her voice to just above a whisper. "But here's the thing: recently in the Muggle porn industry, there was an HIV scare. Some of the porn stars caught the virus, and the industry had to be shut down for a few weeks while the actors and actresses all tested for HIV. Some had it, some didn't."

Terrence was fully hooked. "And you think Scarlett has. . . you know, HIV?"

Daphne paused pensively. "There is the chance," she said reasonably. And she stood up and left for breakfast, leaving Terrence deep in thought.

~~~~~

The following conversation took place in the library at around 10:00 that morning:

"You reading The Scarlett Letter, Draco?"

"Yeah, Terrence," Draco replied, frowning at the pictures. "Someone seems to have sprinkled water on this thing."

Blaise leaned over from his spot by the window. "Those look like teardrops. Were you crying while you read it?"

"Hell, no!" Draco exclaimed. "What do you take me for?"

"Just trying to be reasonable," said Blaise reasonably. "Normally when someone cries, they produce teardrops, which might happen to fall on whatever they happen to be reading at the time."

"Just because you cry all the time doesn't mean we all do," Draco said acidly.

Blaise scoffed at his friend, but didn't grace him with a reply.

"Excuse me," Terrence said, "I was about to speak."

And he proceeded in repeating everything that Daphne told him. The Slytherin boys took in this new complication with wide eyes.

"So Scarlett has this. . . HIV virus?" Blaise said.

"It seems most likely," Terrence said. "And keep in mind that the virus kills you slowly. I asked around a little bit, and I found that some people live a full life with HIV while others die within ten years.

"That's gotta suck," Blaise said.

"I'll say," Terrence agreed.

From the other shelf Euan Abercrombie listened, eyes filled with horror, then ran off.

~~~~~

The following conversation took place at 10:30 between a group of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws on the Quidditch pitch:

"Are you sure, Euan?" Seamus said, wide-eyed and shocked.

"Yes," Euan said breathlessly. "Scarlett has a deadly virus called HIV, and you get it by having sex."

"Gosh, that's awful," Roger Davies said. "Isn't there anything she can do about it? There's gotta be a cure or something."

"There isn't," Euan insisted. "She has it for life."

"That's too bad," Dean said.

~~~~~

The following conversation took place at 11:30 under the beech tree by the lake:

"This HIV virus is killing Scarlett slowly?" Colin asked Seamus, horrified.

"Yes," Seamus said sadly.

"And she can't have sex at all??" Colin continued, his eyes wide.

"No, she can definitely have sex," Seamus corrected him. "But she'll pass the disease on to every one of her sexual partners."

Colin sank back against the tree, deep in thought. For a while neither of them said a word.

Then Colin surged forward again and said, "Thank God for small mercies."

"What?"

"With any luck, Scarlett gave Cornelius Fudge HIV when she fucked him," Colin explained. "Then he'll die, and we'll get a newer and better Minister of Magic."

~~~~~

The following conversation took place at 1:00 at the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall:

"Are you serious?" Justin Finch-Fletchley asked, his eyes wide.

"Totally serious," Colin assured him, having come over from the Gryffindor table to spread the awful news. "Scarlett has the HIV virus and is at the point of death."

"Gosh, that sucks," Terry said (he, too, had left his own table to hear the gossip).

"And she can't have sex anymore," Colin continued. "Isn't that awful."

"No sex???" a third-year Hufflepuff whispered, horrified. "How can she survive?"

"Actually, she can still do it," Colin amended, "but she'll give the disease to anyone she shags."

Terry's brow was furrowed in concern. "There has to be something we can do," he said. "She can't die without having a few more fucks. Maybe we could help her with it."

"But then we'd catch the disease!" said the third-year anxiously.

Terry paused pensively and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "There has to be some way to protect ourselves against it," he said.

"How?" This came from Justin.

"I don't know," Terry replied. "Maybe. . . a spell or something? We could ask Madam Pomfrey; I'm sure she'd know what to do."

~~~~~

So, at 3:00 that afternoon, a group of ten boys, including Terry, Colin, Seamus, Dean, Justin, and Gregory, all cautiously entered the pristine infirmary. They treaded softly through the beds and over to Madam Pomfrey's office, only to find her talking to McGonagall and Dumbledore. They paused, unsure of what to do.

Dumbledore was the first to notice the gaggle of guys. "Ah, young sirs, what may we do for you?"

Dean pushed Colin towards the front. After a few moments of fumbling, he mumbled, "We, um, wanted to ask Madam Pomfrey a question about. . . something."

"Yes, what is it?" Madam Pomfrey swept forward to meet the ten Hogwarts students. "What happened this time?"

No one spoke for a moment. Then Terry stepped forward. "It's not what happened, but what's going to happen. You see, we heard about this awful virus called, um, HIV. And. . .and we wanted to know how to. . . to protect ourselves against it."

"Abstinence," McGonagall said immediately and strictly.

"Don't participate in any rituals that require the commingling of blood," the infirmary nurse advised.

"And when you use hypodermic drug needles," said Dumbledore, "make sure that nobody else touches your own."

McGonagall gave Dumbledore a look of sheer horror.

"Did that answer your question?" Madam Pomfrey asked kindly.

Colin wrung his hands together. "Um, not exactly. See, there's someone we know who already has HIV. And we heard that you can catch it by. . . having sex," he whispered the last word.

"Abstinence!" McGonagall crowed severely.

"But. . ." Colin whispered, "we. . . um. . ."

"Ah, you want to know about sexual protections, I presume?" Dumbledore said frankly. Every person in the room except him blushed beet red.

"Yes, Professor," Terry said softly.

"But nothing could be easier!" Dumbledore said happily. "Do you happen to have a condom, Madam Pomfrey?"

"Um. . . somewhere amongst my supplies," she answered, clearly trying to pull herself together after this sudden and surprising conversation. She was the school nurse! This stuff wasn't supposed to embarrass her! . . . Except that Dumbledore was here to hear it all.

"Thank you very much," Dumbledore said when Madam Pomfrey pulled out a pack of condoms. She was just about ready to begin her explanation when Dumbledore plucked the box out of her hands. He pulled out a single condom and held it up.

"This is called a condom," he told the boys. "And it goes on the penis." McGonagall put her head in her hands. "It's what we call 'selectively permeable.' In other words, it lets some stuff through, but holds some stuff back."

The boys looked thoroughly mortified at having this discussion with their Headmaster. Dumbledore, however, seemed quite at ease as he continued. "This condom is full of microscopic holes. The sperm is tiny enough that it gets through, but the HIV virus is so big that it gets stuck and can't get past."

"So it's 'selectively spermeable,' " Terry offered.

"Boot!" McGonagall cried in mortification. "Twenty points from Ravenclaw!"

"No, Minnie, it's quite alright," Dumbledore said, placating. McGonagall glared at him.

He turned back to the boys. "Next: putting the condom on. I think we need a demonstration."

"ALBUS!" McGonagall shrieked, her face beet red and her eyes wide.

"Calm down, Minerva," Dumbledore said easily. "Not that kind of demonstration." He plucked up a stiff banana from a nearby bowl of fruit. Somehow two sagging pears managed to attach themselves to the banana's base. "See, you slip the condom on like a glove," he said. And he pulled the condom on around the head of the banana.

Suddenly he plucked the condom off and thrust the banana back into the bowl of fruit. Then he blew the condom into a large balloon and tied it off, then let it float up to the ceiling. McGonagall looked close to tears, she was so embarrassed.

"But condoms aren't always reliable," Dumbledore informed them, his eyes on the "balloon" that lazed its way around the room. "They leak 20 to 40% of the time. Isn't that awful? So we wizards have created a spell."

He pulled the banana out of the bowl of fruit again and placed the wand at its head. "See, you simply touch the head and say, "Condomus Protectivae! Repeat it after me."

"Condomus Protectivae," the boys mumbled, beet read.

"Good," Dumbledore praised them. "Now, the spell only works on actual penises, so it did nothing whatsoever to the banana. But you can tell when it works because the head of your penis will glow a bright blue for a single second."

There was a deafening silence.

"That's all," Dumbledore said brightly.

"Thank you, Professor," Colin whispered. He and his nine friends stumbled dazedly from the infirmary, none of them saying a word. They entered the hallway, closed the door behind them, then immediately burst out into excited conversation.

McGonagall didn't look up until they were gone. When she did, she stared at Dumbledore, shaking her head in horror. "Why?" she whispered. "Madam Pomfrey could have done it."

"Oh, but they needed to know," Dumbledore said lightly. "Certainly it'd be less embarrassing to learn it from another male? No? Anyway, I had so much fun explaining it. It's be a while since I've done that spell, and I wanted to keep in practice."

McGonagall looked revolted.

Madam Pomfrey simply shook her head and whispered, "Oh God, we really need a sex-ed course at this school."

A/N: Some more disclaimers: "selectively-spermeable" belongs to some guy in my health class back in 9^th grade. The sausage idea was inspired by a person who wishes to remain anonymous, though I'm sure he's not the first person to have compared a sausage to a penis. Oh, and in chapter 3 I forgot to disclaim Flitwick's line "at least once more, as always." That comes from Pirates of the Caribbean. I don't have to disclaim the poems, because they're all mine. :D

About masturbating socks--inside joke. Oh, and I know that the HIV scare in the porn industry took place almost ten years later than this story is set, but it was just too good to pass up.

Next chapter: The girls release their own newsletter. So Scarlett outdoes them. . . big time. So they have to outdo Scarlett. . . big time. Harry gets another letter from Scarlett. Vector gets more story time (along with Flitwick). Zacharias and Scarlett get things mixed up. And we get some Harry/Ginny scenes at last! Oh, and my third-favorite novel (after HP and aSoUE) gets a cameo appearance!! Yay! Please review!