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Gryffindor Sixth Year Follies by uvagirl
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Gryffindor Sixth Year Follies

uvagirl

A/N: I'm very sorry for the long delay in the originally planned (and promised) very brief epilogue, wherein Harry and Hermione "make up" in a suitably smutty manner. The real world intruded, as it often does. BUT, the good news is that the epilogue has changed into at least two more chapters. While proofing the original, I got an idea. As sometimes happens, the idea got another idea, and then, yet more ideas. So, here is Chapter Five, with the usual warnings for innuendo, nasty jokes, etc. Thanks again to everyone for all of the wonderful reviews.

Chapter 5: Make Like Snape?

Immediately following the closing curtain, the Gryffindor fifth and seventh year students in the audience made their way to the backstage area. They, along with many honest Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw classmates accompanying them, were convinced that the sixth year Gryffindors in general, and Harry and Ron in particular, had performed by far the best entertainment of the week. Without question, it had been the funniest.

There were many congratulatory handshakes, backslaps, hugs, and friendly kisses. While politely acknowledging all of them directed at him, Harry continued both to try to catch Hermione's eye and to make his way to her through the boisterous crowd.

Finally, they were face to face, and Harry noticed that Hermione was staring at him, with a slightly disapproving look.

He rubbed the place on his head where she had whacked him with the prop gavel, and he put on his very best "little-boy-with-a-lost-puppy" expression.

"Uh, you aren't really upset, are you, Hermione?" he asked.

"UPSET!" she answered. "Why should I be upset in the least? And, don't give me that look!"

"Hermione," he began.

"Let's see," Hermione continued, "you compared my backside first with a pair of the ugliest of all dogs, and then with the largest of them!"

"But, Hermione," Harry tried again.

"Oh, and don't think for a second that I missed those earlier cracks about my 'holding on for dear life' and 'making you do all the work whenever you got me on your powerful stick' and such rubbish!" she added.

"But," Harry tried yet again, strengthening considerably his hurt expression to that of a hopefully more appealing "little-boy-whose-puppy-has-just-been-run-over-by-a-car."

"And, don't you DARE to give me THAT look, either!" she exclaimed.

Before either Hermione could say more or Harry could try to respond, they were interrupted by a loud voice from at least ten feet away.

"HARRY! HERMIONE!" yelled Ginny Weasley, walking toward them and trying to be heard over the din of numerous conversations, "that was a GREAT show!"

"Thanks," both of them said.

"By the way, Harry," Ginny went on, with a wink, as she joined them, "if it's true that in the immediate future, Hermione expects you 'to make like Snape,' then maybe you could - "

Suddenly, all of the other conversations stopped, but Ginny continued, in what now was a VERY loud voice, "GIVE ME A GOOD GO ON YOUR POWERFUL STICK!"

There was dead silence, and Ginny turned around, only to see Professor McGonagall staring at her, with a severe expression on her face.

"Miss Weasley! Sincerely, I HOPE that you are referring to Mr. Potter's BROOM!" said the professor.

Ginny, her face rapidly assuming the approximate hue and brightness of her hair, could make only a strangled noise resembling nothing so much as an attempt to say "eeep" and "oops" and "oh, shit" simultaneously.

Meanwhile, to Harry's consternation, both Hermione and Ron, who had just joined them, were looking daggers at HIM!

"May I have everyone's attention, please," Professor McGonagall said, "as the entire transfigured theater area needs to be undone, so that we may have our Great Hall once again, I ask that all begin to leave for their houses immediately. I'm sorry, but Gryffindor sixth years will need to return in their makeup and costumes. This is because the backstage dressing room facilities were the last to be created, therefore, they will be the first to be changed back."

Turning to Hermione, Professor McGonagall said, "Miss Granger, I applaud your supervision of a generally fine entertainment, and I award Gryffindor House fifty points."

Harry grinned and smiled at Hermione, but his pleasure was cut short, when his Head of House addressed him.

"Mr. Potter," she began, and noticing Ron, she continued, "oh, and Mr. Weasley, as well, while your part of the show was amusing, ALSO it was more than a just a bit off-color. Further, it was unconscionably demeaning and insulting both to another house of this school and to a particular fellow student, as well as to a member of the faculty. For this, I must deduct ten points . . . EACH . . . and both of you will serve an hour's detention."

"But," Harry and Ron both said, but Professor McGonagall wasn't finished yet.

"You will serve your detentions in the library. Mr. Weasley, you will write an essay describing the benefits of getting along well with students of other houses. Mr. Potter, you will do one concerning the need for students to demonstrate appropriate respect for members of the teaching staff."

"But," Harry and Ron tried again.

"No arguments! I want twelve inches from each of you!"

"Who doesn't?" Lavender Brown asked rhetorically, without thinking, and in response, most of the students began to giggle, excepting Parvati and Hermione, who just sighed and glared at her, respectively.

"Twelve inches of PARCHMENT, I mean," said Professor McGonagall, a bit flustered, but she regained her composure quickly enough to cast a withering look at Lavender, only to lose it again upon hearing a new voice.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes, lighten up and untwist your knickers, Minnie!" came the squeaky request of Professor Flitwick, who had joined the group. He added, "you were laughing as loudly as anyone else in the audience!"

Everyone was speechless, and Harry and Ron looked at each other, both of them silently mouthing the name "Minnie," with an equally unspoken half dozen question marks appended to it. Then, both gave involuntary shudders, as the unbidden and most emphatically unwanted vision of Professor McGonagall in her aforementioned undergarments entered their minds.

The diminutive professor continued, "I say, that was a brilliant show, and every Gryffindor House sixth year is to be commended, especially you, Miss Granger, for your direction of it. I, too, shall award fifty points, and I must single out for additional consideration the contributions of Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley."

Giving them a wink, he went on, "I believe that the entertainment value of your performances is deserving of additional credit . . . perhaps ten points . . . EACH! Yes, I think that should do it."

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione spoke. "It . . . it wasn't Harry's and Ron's fault at all. I . . . I'm the one who told them to do those jokes."

Before Professor McGonagall could respond, Professor Flitwick exclaimed excitedly, "Oh, my goodness, Miss Granger! I suppose that I must award an additional ten points to you, as well!"

"Miss Granger, I am so disappointed," Professor McGonagall began, only to be interrupted by Harry.

"No, it's NOT her fault," said Harry. "Originally, Hermione insisted that we should cut the, er, nastier of the jokes. She only agreed for us to go ahead after seeing Slytherin's lame idea of entertainment, which she says was plagiarized from a famous stage play. Besides, it was pretty insulting and demeaning to her, personally, as well as to other students."

"Very well," replied Professor McGonagall. "I will suspend the library detention time, BUT, you two WILL do the assigned essays, at your leisure, but they are to be turned in to me no later than one week from tomorrow. AND," she added, "Miss Granger, you are NOT to help either of them with their writing!"

She looked thoughtful for a few seconds, and then uncharacteristically broke out in a very wide smile. "The entire show WAS quite entertaining. The look on Severus Snape's face, when he heard that punch line . . . "

Professor Flitwick cut in, "you must admit, Minerva, that this was at least as good as, if not even funnier than, the hilarious Gryffindor Sixth Year Show done twenty years ago by Mr. Potter's future parents and Mr. Black!"

Suddenly, Harry's attention was riveted to Professor Flitwick's words. Quickly, and with an accusatory look, he glanced at Hermione, but he saw that she seemed genuinely to be as surprised and puzzled as he was.

"My . . . my Mum and Dad . . . and . . . and Sirius were in a show?" Harry asked, clearly agitated and trying very hard to keep his temper in check.

"Oh, dear me!" said Professor Flitwick, "you didn't know? Minerva, didn't you mention this to them?"

Hermione broke in, attempting to forestall a possible "Potter Eruption" in front of the two teachers, "there's nothing in Hogwarts: A History about any entertainment week, or other student shows for that matter, more recent than the second decade of the twentieth century!"

Somewhat subdued, Professor McGonagall said, "I was hoping to avoid a repeat of how that one ended, and . . . and I had another reason, as well."

"Wait a minute," Harry said, but Professor McGonagall continued to speak.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, and Mr. Weasley," she said, and then she frowned upon noticing that Ron had begun to leave the area with his sister Ginny. They were engaged in what a kindly disposed person would describe as a "discussion," but what a more honest one would call a "heated argument." Luna Lovegood, who had come backstage with some fellow Ravenclaws to offer congratulations, was attempting to serve as a referee.

"Ah," Professor McGonagall continued, "I see that he is busy at the moment." Turning back to her other two students, she hesitated, and then she said, "Harry, Hermione, would you like to join me in my quarters and discuss anything you wish concerning Lily, James, and Sirius? Filius, could you . . . would you be willing to explain . . . "

"Of course, Minerva," he answered, "but, we have a bit a work to do before we can repair to your sitting room and make ourselves more comfortable for what may be a long evening of questions and answers." Turning to the students, he continued, "although I find it most attractive, Miss Granger, I suppose that you might wish to clean up and to change into more usual and comfortable attire."

Harry actually grinned, and said, "Aw, does she have to? I think she looks perfectly okay just as she is!"

Hermione, realizing that she still was wearing both her exaggerated stage makeup and her very tight and revealing costume, blushed, glared at Harry, and said, "Harry, let's go, NOW!"

"Of course, my dear," he answered, "I never argue with a 'dressmaker' . . . er, a LADY!"

"Yes, you are quite correct, Filius," said Professor McGonagall, answering Professor Flitwick. To Hermione and Harry, she added, "please take however much time you require to change clothes and such. Professor Flitwick and I will need awhile to restore the Great Hall completely. Why don't we try to meet here in approximately thirty minutes?"

* * *

All of their housemates left just before Harry and Hermione, so they had the corridors to themselves as they headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

As they continued their slow walk, Harry began to get angry again. What possible reason could Professor McGonagall have for not telling him about his parents, Sirius, and the mysterious Sixth Year Entertainment Week of twenty years earlier?

Over the years, Professor McGonagall had treated him pretty much like any other student. There had been the unfortunate incidents in third year, concerning her failure to allow to him to go to Hogsmeade, and her impoundment of his new Firebolt broom. But, though he hadn't appreciated it fully at the time, they were balanced by her special treatment of him previously, in first year, when she had gotten him on the house Quidditch team, and had bent school rules in order to send him his first broom, the Nimbus 2000.

Then, in his head, the figurative proverbial light bulb was turned on. 'Of course,' he thought, 'her reason can be summed up in one word - Sirius. She was operating in 'Substitute-Mother-for-Harry-Potter' mode, when she decided not to bring up the subject!'

He gave a sniffle, and to his surprise, he felt Hermione's hand grasp his and squeeze it.

"Are you okay, Harry?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Uh, yes," he answered. He hesitated, turned to face her, gave her a small smile, and continued, "I've been doing some thinking . . . "

"I hope it hasn't done any permanent damage to your head!" she replied, with a small smile.

"It was Sirius, of course," Harry said, "but I'm sure you already realized that."

"I'm sure it was," said Hermione, "and Harry, tonight is the first time that you've mentioned his name, since . . . since that night at the Ministry."

"Actually, what I was thinking about is that Professor McGonagall was playing her role of 'Mummy to Harry,' when she decided that it might have hurt me to have been reminded about that mess," said Harry. "You know, Hermione, I just may hold some sort of record, for being the orphan who has the most self-appointed replacement mothers in history. I can think of at least three other significant ones, besides Professor McGonagall."

"Who are you talking about, exactly," asked Hermione, somewhat puzzled.

"Well," said Harry, with a smile, "in addition to 'Minnie,' there's Mrs. Weasley, of course, and there's Madam Pomfrey. I think you'll agree that both of them have acted toward me not unlike a mother tiger intensely interested in protecting her cub. You do remember being on the receiving end of Mrs. Weasley's protective instincts toward me during our fourth year?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione giggled, "that's when she discovered in Witch Weekly that I was the 'scarlet woman' who was trifling with your affections, as well as those of Viktor Krum."

"And, of course," continued Harry, "I doubt that anyone could count the number of times that Madam Pomfrey unceremoniously rousted friends from my bedside, whenever I found myself in her care and at her tender mercies."

"Who is the fourth one?" asked Hermione, as they entered the hallway that led to the Gryffindor House portrait door, "surely, she's not your Aunt Petunia, is she?"

"Nope," said Harry. "But, you definitely should know her, since I'm holding her hand right now."

"ME!" Hermione exclaimed, "now, wait just a minute, I've NEVER - "

"Oh, yes, you have," retorted Harry, before she could finish, "AND, you loved almost every minute of it! To be fair, you've been a big sister to me also . . . I suppose that there must be something special about me, since I can't help but to attract the caring attention of so many older women."

"OLDER WOMEN!" Hermione shouted, "why, you no good - "

Whatever Hermione intended to add was cut off abruptly, when Harry covered her mouth with his. He pulled back, and said, "I've never thanked you often or adequately enough for what you've done for me."

"HARRY!" Hermione began, but he put a forefinger over her lips.

"You do understand, I hope," he said, "that I was only joking . . . for laughs, about your body . . . and everything else, as well?"

He wrapped his arms around her and planted his lips on hers again. Just as he began to deepen the kiss into a serious bout of tongue wrestling, a blinding flash of light erupted.

It was accompanied by the distinctive sound of a camera's shutter, and as they turned their heads, a surprised gasp was heard, as well. Dennis Creevey, the younger of the two Gryffindor brothers who were photography buffs, was staring at them. He looked from Harry to Hermione, and obviously, he failed to recognize her in makeup and costume.

"Har . . . Har . . . Harry!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know it was you . . . and . . . and . . . some . . . "

Without completing his sentence, Dennis turned and fled back into the now open entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Through the doorway, they heard the third year's loud and very excited voice.

"HEY, everyone! Harry's just outside, and he's snogging some really hot looking strumpet! I got a picture of them, too!"

Hermione tried to yell something, but Harry's mouth cut it off again, and he dropped his hands from her back to her bum, pulling her tightly against his body.

Her eyes widened, and she started to push him away, but Harry would have none of it. Finally, he broke off the kiss and looked at her.

"Well, are you two coming in, or are you just interested in conducting inventories of each other's teeth?" asked the fat lady in the portrait cover to the entrance.

"HARRY POTTER! Did you hear what that little twerp called me?" Hermione demanded, ignoring the fat lady's question.

"Well," offered Harry, laughing, "he was half right, wasn't he? You are really quite hot looking in that getup."

"He won't think so, once I shove my foot far enough up his arse that he'll be able to taste it!" Hermione replied. Suddenly, her expression changed from one of anger to that of concern. "What if the little sneak sells that picture to Witch Weekly or to some other news rag?"

Harry just laughed. "I can see the headline; 'Innocent Boy-Who-Lived Ravished by Unknown Painted Floozy!' or something similar." He looked at Hermione, and added, "Hey, don't worry. I'll have a 'talk' with young Mr. Creevey about the situation. Besides, I might want an 8x10 or two of that picture for myself!"

"You wouldn't!" said Hermione. She continued, "anyway, don't change the subject!"

"What? I did NOT change the subject," said Harry, clearly puzzled, but Hermione interrupted him.

"I insist on getting back to that 'older women' crack of yours! I'll have you know that I am NOT that much older than you!" Hermione said.

"Well, you are almost a year older than me, aren't you," asked Harry, with a grin.

"Ten months is more like it!" rejoined Hermione, and she stopped speaking as they entered the common room, to be greeted by some wide-eyed fellow housemates, including Lavender and Parvati, who were sitting together on the large sofa.

"Yes," Hermione continued, "it's only about ten!"

"It's closer to eleven, I think," said Harry, still grinning.

"ELEVEN? You're crazy, Mr. Potter! Maybe it's ten and a half!" said Hermione, still a bit miffed, "but not a bit more!"

Lavender and Parvati looked at each other, sighed, and Lavender spoke up. "Of all the ungrateful, lucky bit - , er, persons!"

"Yes!" added Parvati, and turning to Hermione, she added, "you're arguing with the hottest guy at Hogwarts over a lousy half of an inch?"

Harry laughed, blushed, and then said to Hermione, "I'll be having my little discussion with Dennis. I'm sure that that you have things to talk about with your dorm mates."

Hermione started to explode, but then she composed herself, and she thought, 'I'm going to fix that pair of gossip-mongering sluts once and for all.'

"Oh," she said to the pair, "were you saying something to me? Harry and I were debating about how much OLDER I was, whether it was ten, ten-and-one-half, or eleven MONTHS."

She smiled at their suddenly blushing faces, and then before either of them could speak, she continued.

"Ah, I think I understand," she said, "you thought that we were discussing the . . . er, measurement of something ELSE," and she added, in a conspiratorial whisper, "Harry's . . . 'wand,' I bet."

Both Lavender and Parvati looked at Hermione, their mouths agape.

"Well," Hermione continued, "can I trust you two to keep this private?"

"Certainly," said Lavender.

"Of course," Parvati added quickly.

"If you have to know," Hermione whispered, "Harry's 'wand' actually is eleven inches!"

"WHAT!" exclaimed Lavender.

"I don't believe it," said Parvati, "ELEV - "

"SHHH!" said Hermione, cutting her off, in a loud whisper. "I'm telling you that most certainly, it IS!" With a dreamy expression, she continued, "and my heavens, you wouldn't believe the spectacular 'magic' that he can work with it! What's the matter, haven't either of you ever seen any others of that length?"

"I wish," said Lavender.

"Me, too," said Parvati.

"Well," Hermione continued, "I'VE seen others close in size to Harry's."

"WHO?" the two girls demanded.

"Well," said Hermione, "back in fourth year, Viktor Krum's almost as long, less than an inch shorter, but it was a bit thicker and stiffer!"

"THICKER?" asked Lavender.

"STIFFER?" asked Parvati.

"Yes," said Hermione, "Viktor said that in Bulgaria, most wizards and witches preferred them that way."

"I guess so!" said Lavender.

"I should HOPE so!" added Parvati.

"Who else's have you seen?" asked Lavender.

"Ron's, of course," said Hermione.

"RON WEASLEY?" said Parvati.

"Now, wait a minute," Lavender began, but Hermione cut her off.

"Back in second year, Ron actually broke his wand," said Hermione. "I offered to help him, but the prat wouldn't let me touch it! In fact, he refused to believe that anything was wrong until Professor McGonagall saw it and told him so!"

"PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL," began Parvati.

"Saw Ron's 'wand' during second year?" Lavender finished the question.

"Of course," said Hermione, "you do remember how Ron used to sit near the front in Transfiguration, don't you? Whenever he would get bored, which was almost every class, he'd twiddle his wand under the desk!"

Lavender and Parvati looked at each other, and then they looked at Hermione, disbelief clearly on their faces.

"So, you girls doubt my word, do you?" asked Hermione, and she called across the room, "Harry, dear, would you come here for a moment?"

Harry complied, noticing both Hermione's wink and her silent mouthing of 'play along, please!' while out of the view of the pair on the sofa.

"Harry, these two seem to doubt my veracity concerning the size of . . . your 'wand,' so would you . . . could you . . . PROVE it to them," Hermione said.

"Of course, if you're sure, Hermione," said Harry, giving a quick glance around, as if to make sure that no one else was looking. "So, ladies, excuse me while I whip this out!"

Both of the girls gave audible gasps, their eyes bulged out, and they tried unsuccessfully to back away.

Harry reached down toward the front of his trousers, and he withdrew his magical wand from Ollivanders, only to be greeted by what could be described accurately as a bizarre audible combination of relief and disappointment from Lavender and Parvati.

Smiling at the pair, he said, "it's eleven inches in length, made of holly, and has a phoenix tail feather as its magical core. According to Mr. Ollivander, it's 'nice and supple,' and I'm inclined to agree with him."

"See," said Hermione, smirking at the pair of her silent dorm mates, "I told you so!"

She turned to Harry, and said, "we'd better get cleaned up quickly, if we're to get out here any time soon."

"You're correct, as usual, Hermione," said Harry, as they left for their dorms, "and, about what we discussing earlier, you really do have the loveliest bum in all of Hogwarts!"

"I don't think so," Hermione answered, with a smile, "there's at least one other that's lovelier!"

Saying that, she reached out and pinched Harry's backside.

Listening to and watching the exchange, Lavender and Parvati just sighed.

To be continued

A/N: The "excuse me, while I whip . . . " line is "borrowed" from Mel Brooks's hilarious western film send-up, Blazing Saddles. The next chapter will cover Harry and Hermione's conversation with Professors Flitwick and McGonagall, with guest flashback appearances by Lily and the Marauders!