Miss Hogwarts

Warning: This chapter contains instances that might make you belch slugs.

Miss Hogwarts Chapter Six
Silicon Substitute

Ginny Weasley was in a dilemma.

One and a half weeks before Halloween, Ginny began preparing for what Harry was going to wear in Miss Hogwarts. The costumes were complete, of course, and so were the shoes and accessories. But there was the matter of make-up.

And...some other things that were of utmost importance. Which was what she was worrying about that evening.

Ginny had been to the dormitory of the fifth-year girls countless of times since her second year, when Hermione became her friend. Both of them were usually surrounded by boys, and it was usually a great relief to talk to someone who wouldn’t pull her hair or treat her like a little kid.

What’s more, she was Ron’s sister, and Hermione was one of Harry’s best friends, and they always shared all the gory details they knew about the object of the other girl’s desires. The boys never knew.

(Hermione had an advantage, though—Ginny’s earliest memory of Ron was of him sitting on the potty, diaper-less and crying his heart out, after all.)

Ginny knocked on the door of the fifth-years’ dormitory. It was opened by Parvati, who had something white pasted all over face.

“Hi, Ginny,” Parvati said, opening the door a little wider. Then, apparently noticing Ginny’s shocked stare, added, “It’s just facial cream—sorry about that.”

“Uh, no, don’t worry about it,” said Ginny, letting herself in.

Parvati went back to her bed, where Lavender was sitting. She picked up a magazine and handed it to Ginny. “Here,” she said, smiling. “Harry can use it.”

“Thanks!” Ginny said gratefully. She looked at the magazine—it was Teen Witch—and there was a picture of a made-up blonde girl on the cover, about nineteen years old. The list of articles was on the bottom of the cover: there were hair and make-up tips, “Five Ways on How to Turn Boys’ Heads Your Way,” and more.

Harry can definitely use it.

Hermione was sitting on her own bed, poring over a piece of parchment. She smiled when she saw Ginny come in. “Hi,” she said, motioning her over.

“What are you reading?” Ginny asked.

“This?” Hermione handed her the parchment. “It’s a draft of our letter to Hogsmeade Orphanage. We’re going to enclose our donation there.”

Ginny grinned. “This is really a marvelous idea, you know,” she told her. “It’s something new—and everyone will have a lot of fun.”

“Glad you liked it.” Hermione lowered her voice. “Actually, I was thinking of Ron going drag when I thought about it.”

“No, you weren’t!” Ginny gaped at Hermione, who only grinned mischievously. “And you suggested it?”

Hermione laughed. “Sure I did.”

“And all this time, Harry thought...it was Paul Arden.”

“Paul?” Hermione laughed again. “No, not really. I gave out the suggestion and he sort of worked on the details. And hey—come on, Ginny, don’t tell me you’re not having a good time working with Harry.”

“Yes, well...” Ginny smiled, remembering the past few days. “I’m having the time of my life.”

Hermione winked. “Good.”

Ginny smiled at Hermione. Ginny was probably the only being in the whole of Hogwarts who had an idea of how Hermione Granger’s brain really worked. That was why Ginny came to Hermione first for an advice on...

Ginny started to fidget. “Actually...I came here to ask you something. For Miss Hogwarts.”

Hermione knotted her forehead. “Yes?”

Ginny glanced at Lavender and Parvati. They were busily talking—about a certain boy, no doubt. “Well—since Harry has to look like a girl, he also has to have the body of a girl...right?”

“Uh...yes, of course.”

“Er, well...I need your advice. For Harry’s...you know.” Ginny glanced down.

Hermione stared—then, getting the notion, nodded in understanding. “Oh. Er—which one? Top or down?”

“Erm, both.”

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at Ginny. “What do you think?”

“Well, there’s got to be a charm to keep his...um, thing back, right?” Ginny felt herself redden.

“I think so. But you can also...er, Spellotape it.”

Ginny looked pained.

“Bad idea, I know,” Hermione said, squinting. “Any other ideas?”

“I don’t know...I was thinking of maybe doing something to his...his knickers—probably tighten them up or something.”

In her mind’s eye, Ginny saw herself do that certain something to Harry’s knickers—with Harry wearing only those. All the blood rushed to her face. Yes, she always had fantasies of Harry—but this was way different, and way too disturbing.

“Maybe,” Hermione told her. “Besides, maybe it won’t show much in his dress.” She suddenly blushed as well—she probably pictured it in her mind, too.

“Right. Now, these.” Ginny gestured on top of her chest.

Hermione looked at her own, which were unfortunately small mounds. She sighed most unhappily. “Too bad we haven’t started human transfiguration yet—”

“Are you mad?” Ginny squealed, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest. “You—you’re going to give him boo—”

“Shush, Gin!” Hermione hissed, glancing at Lavender and Parvati, who had looked up at them when Ginny yelled.

“Sorry,” Ginny whispered, “but you—you can’t! Hermione, how could you even think that?”

“I’m not going to!” Hermione insisted. “I still don’t know how—and it could go horribly wrong!”

Ginny had a mental image of Harry heaving boulder-sized boobs that somehow grew on top of his chest. She cringed.

“What about cotton balls?” Hermione suggested.

“Bunch them up? They won’t look realistic! I was thinking along the lines of water balloons.”

“But that’d make it too bouncy!”

“I know,” Ginny agreed. “And it would probably burst in the middle of the contest.”

Hermione shook her head. “The balloons we can deal with—we can put a Reinforcement Charm on them. But our problem’s with the water.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said, nodding. “Water’s so liquid—it’s not realistic, either.”

“Yes. We have to put something else into the balloons.” Hermione stood up and paced back and forth, as though Harry’s breasts were a matter that needed profound contemplation. “The substance has to be more viscous than water—it should be thicker, so that the balloons can bounce properly....”

* * *

“Hey, Harry,” Neville called. “Ginny’s here.”

Harry and Ron looked up in surprise. Ginny was standing by the doorway of their dormitory, red hair and all, carrying her backpack and smiling uneasily.

Ron scowled at his sister. “You’re not allowed here,” he said flatly as he unsuccessfully tried to shove all the dirty clothes on his bed away from view.

Ginny smirked and waved a piece of parchment. “I’ve got special permission from the prefect.”

Ron’s jaw dropped. “She can give those?” He held his hand out. “Give me.”

Ginny walked into the room and handed Ron the parchment. She wrinkled her nose at the pathetic state of Ron’s bed. “Honestly, Ron, you’re giving all the house-elves a hard time.”

Ron ignored her and read the parchment aloud for the others to hear. “‘This is to let Ginny Weasley into the fifth-year boys’ dormitory to assist Harry Potter in the preparations for the Miss Hogwarts contest. Signed, Hermione Granger, approved, Minerva McGonagall.’” Ron looked at Ginny suspiciously. “You’re in cahoots with Hermione, aren’t you?”

“Cahoots?” Ginny repeated.

“To be with Harry alone in here!”

“Ha ha.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Please. The intention is wholesome. Harry needs to fit something.”

“But I’ve already fit the dresses in Gladrags,” Harry stated dumbly.

Ginny shook her head. “It’s something else,” she said. He saw her cheeks turn pink.

“I can’t believe she can just give these out,” Ron muttered to himself, giving Ginny the permit back.

“Aren’t you glad? She can give one to you too, so you can go to her room.”

A look of gutter-minded comprehension spread across Ron’s face. “Hey, you’re right...”

Harry threw a pillow at Ron’s face and gave him a dirty look. “Oh, get out of here.”

“Okay, okay,” Ron groaned, tossing the pillow back to Harry. “C’mon, Neville.”

Neville was grinning at Harry and Ginny as he and Ron got out of the room—but not without Ron saying, “I want both of your clothes still on when I get back.”

“You git,” Harry yelled back. When Ron and Neville disappeared from view, he turned to Ginny. Her face was red as a ripe tomato.

“Something wrong?” asked Harry.

Ginny shook her head a bit too vigorously. “Er, Ron just said both of our clothes must still be on...and you’re fitting, and...well...”

“Oh.” Harry turned red as well.

Ginny walked towards the door and closed it, then locked it. Dirty thoughts started walking up and down Harry’s head. “Er—so what’ll I be fitting?” he asked in a squeaky voice.

“Oh—hang on a minute.” Ginny set her bag down on Ron’s bed and came up with something...lacy and peach. She held it out to him.

Harry stared at the brassiere. The first and only other bra he had seen in his entire life seemed to exist ages ago. He used to do the laundry in the Dursleys and Aunt Petunia once forgot to separate her bras from the rest of the clothes. Well, aside from that, there were those commercials, of course...

“Er,” Harry said now, ever so oblivious.

Ginny smiled lopsidedly. “You have to have them for Miss Hogwarts, you know.”

“Er...if you say so,” Harry croaked. He hesitated, then took it in his shaking hands and looked at Ginny expectantly.

“Well, put them on,” said Ginny.

Harry’s mouth went dry. He had never removed his clothes in front of a girl before, not even in elementary. Talk about pathetic—Harry began to wonder if there were a lot more to life that he had missed.

Meanwhile, right in front of him, right now, was Ginny Weasley, waiting for him to take off his clothes. She was only sitting on Ron’s bed, biting her lips and raising her eyebrows expectantly, and yet his mind began to whirl with unwelcome thoughts. Ginny used to have a crush on him, after all...

Bloody hell, are you man or not? a voice in his head screamed.

Harry inwardly winced. Oh, what the hell. Harry took off his robes. As he began to yank off his t-shirt, he discreetly glanced at Ginny. She looked very interested at the door.

Harry now stood shirtless in front of Ginny. And, in his hands, was a bra. He started to wonder if it belonged to her—it wasn’t too large or too small anyway, and it seemed to fit Ginny all right...

He tore his eyes off Ginny’s chest and proceeded on jumping into the situation at hand. He supposed he had to put both arms into those straps, which he did. Then he was supposed to hook the thing on his back.

Now there was the problem. Try as he might, he couldn’t hook the thing in place. “Um, Gin?”

Ginny, redder than Harry had ever seen her, looked up. “Yeah?” she squeaked.

“Uh—I can’t seem to—”

“Oh, right—um, hang on,” she stuttered as she stood up and approached him. If he had only known better, he’d say she was trying hard not to stare at his body.

“You put it the wrong way, Harry,” she said now. “That’s going to itch.”

Harry looked down. She was right—all the lacy things were on his skin. He removed the bra and put it the right way.

“Right,” said Ginny. She arranged the straps on his shoulders, lightly brushing his bare shoulders with her hands in the process.

Harry almost jumped in shock. Her touch had felt so much...so much like a white-hot brand pressed onto his skin. He felt her fingers again, this time on his back, and he shivered involuntarily. The white-hot sensation tunneled deep into his bones and rushed throughout his body, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Ginny felt his skin grow warm.

But all too soon, Ginny had strapped the bra in place, and though he wanted so badly to feel her again, she now had both hands on her sides. Driving all thoughts away from what he had just experienced, he looked down at the thing placed carelessly around his chest.

“It...feels a bit loose,” said Harry.

“Of course it does,” Ginny said. She searched her bag again and came up with two red things.

Harry stared. “Water balloons?”

Ginny grinned at him. “Even better.” She approached him and stood in front of him...very closely. “Um, do you mind?”

Oh. Harry suddenly understood what exactly he would be fitting. “Er—no,” Harry replied.

Ginny fit the water balloons into his chest. Her soft, warm fingers felt even more overwhelmingly incredible there. Sighing, watching her face intently, he let her slip the cold water balloons into the bra and fit them snugly.

“Does it feel okay?” Ginny asked weakly.

For a second, Harry had to think which felt okay. “Um, good,” he mumbled.

“You sure?”

Harry nodded slowly.

Ginny nodded as well. Then her gaze fell on something behind Harry—it was the full-length mirror in the room the boys fought constantly over since they realized girls existed on the planet. A grin spread across Ginny’s face. “Well, well. Look at you.”

Harry happened to be facing the mirror sideways at the moment. On the mirror was the same scrawny, bespectacled kid that had stared back at him for ages, only that his biceps had become a bit more distinct, and there were two large bumps on his chest under a peach bra. He swung sideways—the newly-acquired breasts swung with him, as though they were the real thing.

“Hey, cool!” Harry exclaimed, amazed at what the water balloons accomplished. He walked towards the mirror, and the balloons bounced with every step. “Bit bouncy, aren’t they?” he said, studying his chest.

Harry saw Ginny’s image on the mirror slowly smile. “I thought boys like them bouncy.”

Harry whirled around and stared at her, stunned at what she had just said.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I’ve got six elder brothers, you know, and five of them are perverts.”

Of course, Harry would never, ever tell Ginny (or any other girl, for that matter) what he and Ron had been discussing with Seamus, Dean and Neville whenever they were alone and out of earshot of any female. So it was a surprise to him that Ginny already knew. But then again...she knew all about broomsticks, which Ron and her elder brothers had apparently taught her, probably unintentionally...

“Oh yeah...how can I forget?” he joked lamely. He turned back to the mirror and watched the breasts move around. “So how did you come up with these...um, b-things?” He inwardly winced once more—he’d never get to say the word “boobs” aloud.

Ginny snorted. “B-things?” She laughed, shaking her head. “They’re the ingenious ideas of your fellow Gryffindors put together.”

“Really,” Harry said absently. He wriggled his body and laughed as the breasts wriggled with him. He prodded the right one with a finger. So this was how it felt, being a girl—like having a heavy, bouncy, wriggly load on your chest all the time. They were probably painful when actually attached. Thankfully, no one had suggested transfiguring his chests to have breasts...he inwardly shuddered at the thought of how Roger Davies would feel.

He prodded the balloons a bit more, and soon realized that they weren’t filled with water, after all. The water substitute felt thicker, heavier. Glancing around at Ginny, and seeing that her back was turned on him, he gave one of the balloons a squeeze.

Then he squeezed harder.

“I’ve brought your gown, and maybe we can fit it over those,” Ginny was saying. “Now will you—DON’T SQUEEZE THAT THING!”

POP.

Globs of a greenish-gray and sticky sort of stuff splattered everywhere—on Harry’s body, his face and glasses, the mirror, and Seamus’s trunk. Harry was unable to move for a while in shock.

“Harry, I haven’t put a Reinforcement Charm on the balloons yet!” Ginny moaned.

Recovering, Harry removed his glasses and pulled the now-defeated balloon out of the bra. He attempted to wipe the substance off his cheeks, but the thing was stubbornly stuck on his skin. He was strongly reminded of the troll boogers that he had wiped off his wand in his first year, after tackling that troll in the girls’ bathroom.

Harry stopped. Troll boogers? He suddenly dreaded having to know what was the water substitute.

“What...is this?” he asked anyway.

Ginny pursed her lips. Harry thought she looked as though she was suppressing an amused smile.

“Ever heard of Fred and George’s Snot Balls?” she asked quietly.

Harry stared at her, mouth agape.

Ginny didn’t try to hide her smile anymore. “Sorry,” she said. “But girls don’t squeeze their...those...that hard...you know.”

Harry looked back at her witheringly. So his boobs were made of snot. What an ingenious idea indeed.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, shaking his hand forcefully to rid it of the stuff his brand spanking new boobs were filled with.