The Gryffindor Stallion

Author's Note: Thanks to AM83220 for letting me know that this story had somehow been replaced by another. Strange. We need our Gryffindor Stallion, yes? Enjoy the silliness!

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"Checkmate," crowed Ron triumphantly. He was sitting in a cushy red chair in the Gryffindor common room playing chess with Harry. "Want to play again?"

Harry was quiet for a moment; he was staring at the chess board with a confused look adorning his features. He obviously couldn't figure out how he had been beaten in such a short amount of time. Finally, he looked up at Ron with an indulgent grin and a shrug of his shoulders. "Sure, why not," he replied.

"Too bad this is the last day of Christmas break," Ron commented as he ushered the moving chess pieces back into their rightful spots. "I was really enjoying not having to do any homework."

"You don't do your homework anyway," sniffed a voice from the stairway. Ron scowled at Hermione as she came bounding down from the girls' dormitories, Crookshanks cuddled close to her chest. "Playing again?" she asked as she came to a stand just beside the table.

"Nothing else to do," Harry shrugged.

"Well we could…" but Hermione's words were cut off as she let out a loud gasp. A moment later, Ron let out a bellow of pain. In her shock, Hermione had dropped the orange fur ball that was Crookshanks onto Ron's arm, where said fur ball had proceeded to claw Ron's appendage to shreds in his attempts to get away.

"What the? Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked worriedly as he looked at his best friend's dumbfounded expression. Hermione's eyes were wide and her jaw had dropped open so that her mouth was now forming a little 'o' of surprise. Unable to get a response from the bushy-haired witch, Harry swiveled around in his seat. He promptly let out a gasp of his own.

Confused, Ron followed their gazes. "Bloody hell!"

Standing just inside the portrait hole was the most beautiful male specimen any of them had ever seen. That in itself was saying a lot, since Harry and Ron were distinctly heterosexual.

The breath-taking young man was glancing around the Gryffindor Common Room with a delighted smile curling his lips. Hermione had to grasp the table in support as her knees gave way. "Oh my," was all she could manage. Her brain had completely shut down. It actually hurt to look at the boy because he was so ravishing.

The young man's gaze finally settled on the trio and he gave them a jubilant wave as he sauntered over to their corner of the common room. "Harry! Ron! Hermione! How have you guys been? How was your holiday?"

Harry stared enviously at the muscles bulging from the boy's arms. He was wearing a red, fitted sweater with the sleeves pushed up. Harry was pretty sure that if he had arms like that Voldemort would never mess with him again.

Receiving nothing but silence from the trio, the boy continued to talk, the smile never leaving his face. "Mine was pretty good! Gran was really pleased with her gift."

"Er… Did you say 'Gran'?" Ron squeaked.

"Yea..." the dark-haired boy returned, curiosity overcoming his features.

"Neville?" Hermione shrieked breathlessly as her shock overcame her inability to speak.

"Er…Yea?"

Harry removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and then replaced his glasses. No, he was still seeing the same brilliant specimen as before. There was no way that this was Neville Longbottom. Gone was the chubby boy with buck-teeth and big ears. The new and improved Neville Longbottom was a sight for sore eyes, as proven at that moment when Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil entered the common room through the portrait hole, took one look at Neville, and swooned into a dead faint. Both of them.

Neville glanced back at the two unconscious girls before shrugging his shoulders and smiling at the trio, his perfectly straight white teeth gleaming. His hair was no longer a curly and floppy disaster; it now lay across his forehead in enticing shiny curls. As Harry had noticed before, Neville's clothes were now well fitted and displayed his buff body perfectly. Hermione was even trying to inch around Ron's chair so she could get a peak at his no doubt tight arse.

Besides his suddenly lean and muscled body, the most drastic change Neville had undergone was that of his face. His cheeks were no longer chubby and he apparently lost all of his baby fat. Neville's well defined jaws were hard to ignore and even his ears seemed smaller. As Hermione basked in the new sexiness that was Neville Longbottom, she was having a mental argument with herself, trying to determine which person he now resembled more: Keanu Reeves or Johnny Depp?

Clearing his throat, Ron managed to ask the first intelligent question since Neville had arrived. "Neville, what happened to you?"

"Oh, you've noticed have you?" Neville asked as he tried to appear shy and flex his biceps at the same time.

"Are you kidding? You walk in here resembling a Greek sex god and you ask if we've noticed?" Hermione squeaked before promptly covering her mouth with her hands.

"Hermione!" Harry admonished, although he silently agreed with her.

"Sorry!" the bushy-haired girl muttered around her hands.

With an indulgent shrug, Neville snapped his fingers; two more cushy red chairs magically appeared around the chess table. One for him and one for Hermione. Blushing and smiling as wide as her face would allow, Hermione sank into her seat, her knees now reduced to jelly.

"You didn't even use a wand!" said Ron in shock.

"Nope. I don't need my wand any longer," Neville explained, trying not to look too smug. "I can do rare and wandless magic."

"Wow," whispered Hermione.

Harry asked yet again, "How did this all happen?"

"It was my Christmas present from my Gran. She booked me for a weekend at Mr. Mortin's Magical Metamorphosis Facility out in Glasgow. I went there and after a physical alteration and a few well-used permanent potions – voila. A new and improved Neville Longbottom." Neville unconsciously buffed his gleaming nails on his sweater before looking up into their stunned faces. Hermione caught his eye and blushed scarlet as he threw her a come-hither grin.

They were all quiet for a moment, no one really sure what to say. Finally, Ron spoke. "So, er… where's Trevor?"

"Oh, he's at home with Gran. I got a new familiar now," Neville explained. At their inquiring looks, he continued, "Hagrid's feeding Ebony as we speak."

"Ebony?" said Harry.

"My stallion. Another present from my Gran."

"As in – the horse?" Hermione questioned, sounding a bit short-winded. Neville nodded in the affirmative. Hermione's eyes glazed over as she mentally pictured Neville riding a black stallion, shirtless…

A resounding thud issued throughout the room. Ron leaned over, looking down at Hermione who had fallen out of her chair and was now sprawled across the floor. "You okay there, 'Mione?"

"Oh yes, of course, just, you know, relaxing," came the soft reply.

"Er… right." The redhead turned back to Harry and Neville. "So, what shall we do now?"

"Actually, I should be going," Neville exclaimed even as a protesting groan came from the floor. "I told Professor Snape I would help him brew a few potions for the hospital wing."

"Come again," Harry said, looking horrified.

"Well, I excel at all of my classes now, including potions. Not to mention I'm the best quidditch player on the continent and I defeated Lord Voldemort a few minutes before I got back to Hogwarts." Harry and Ron stared on, dumbfounded. "But I should really be going now; I told Ginny, Luna, Susan, Hannah, Pansy, Daphne, Cho and Katie that I would meet them before I had to help Snape."

"Did you start some kind of club?" asked Harry.

"Oh no," Neville laughed. "They're my girlfriends."

And with a small salute, the new and improved Neville Longbottom made his way over to the portrait hole, gracefully stepped over the still unconscious forms of Lavender and Parvati, and sauntered out of the common room.