Disclaimer: As I told you nine times before, these are not my characters I explore. They are on loan from the authoress-whom I'm sure would not approve of such crude nakedness. Nevertheless, let it be known that nakedness so true and pure can lead to victory for those who secure their faith and hope in an Eden of education and dare not elope just because a Hufflepuff has a nice arse for the duration. So, as you surely recognize those who frolic about in naked bliss, I honestly swear that I don't own a bit of this.

A/N: Alrighty now. Here it is: the ending. This story has been a delight to write, and I'm very happy that some have gotten a giggle or two out of it. Thank you all for reading. Your reviews were wonderful. Thanks again everyone, and a special shout out to my friends who poked me into oblivion until I decided to update this fic.

How Hogwarts Became a Nudist Colony

Part 10/10: How the Dark Lord Got His

The bright lights of the cameras blinded Harry for a moment. He should have expected a large turn out, but somehow, he wasn't prepared for the rumors to reach so many so quickly. Dumbledore certainly hadn't told him how large the crowd was when he'd shoved him out the door onto the steps before the school's entrance.

"Mr. Potter! Over here!"


"Oi! Potter, give us a pose!"

Flash. Flash.

"Harry!" A few feminine squeals of delight ran out. "HARRY! You're my hero!"

Flash. Flash. Flash.

The photographers died down giving the reporters a chance to swarm forward. Thankfully, Ministry workers had arrived earlier to contain the situation (in other words, they kept the journalists from reaching the stairs). Harry was happy that someone had sat a podium on one of the upper steps because it was presently the only think keeping him from toppling forward. He gripped it tightly, swallowing anxiously. As far as he could tell, his first meeting with the press was going quite well, though that was sure to change once he opened his mouth.

"Mr. Potter, is it true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone for good?"

"As far as we can tell..." Harry began.

"But how did it happen?"

Harry let out a short laugh. "It's a funny story actually."

"Potter, are you wearing any clothing?"

"Why are the students naked?"

"Was it Mrs. Peacock with the wand on the quidditch field?"


"When will the Headmaster be ready to appear?"

Harry raised a hand to stop the stream of questions. "My fellow peers and the faculty have decided that I should be the one to explain to the public what actually happened earlier this evening here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The young wizard wiped his brow nervously. "I honestly don't know why—I'm not very good at storytelling. Anyhow, as I was saying, it's quite a funny story. Lord Voldemort had planned for a quick victory, but Headmaster Dumbledore had made plans of his own. With a bit of teamwork, we were able to ensure that Voldemort most definitely got his in the end..."

One minute, twenty seconds since Voldemort's rather embarrassing realization that naked teenagers were both somewhat intriguing and quite frightening.

"This is...unexpected." Voldemort glanced the students, his aim wavering somewhat.

Harry took the opportunity to point his own wand, strangely enough, at his robes. The Chosen One took a deep breath, staring at the Dark Lord. "Indeed it is," he said in reply. Voldemort opened his mouth to speak, but Harry interrupted him. "And, theoretically, this wasn't what you were planning for either."

With a tap of his wand, Harry's clothing disappeared, from his socks to his undershirt. Voldemort's eyes widened in shock and horror as he stared at the young wizard. He looked from side to side as even more nudists appeared. The Death Eaters seemed just as confused.

"Destroy these nubile foolsss," Voldemort hissed in disgust.

Behind them, screams issued through the entry way to the Great Hall. Three Death Eaters, apparently on watch, ran past the door, tripping over their feet as a large, nude Hagrid chased after him. Harry grinned realizing where the faculty had gone.

His grin faded when a flash of green zoomed past his ear. The hall was suddenly filled with flying hexes. Harry crouched, ready to defend himself, but he soon realized that the Death Eaters were dropping like flies, stunned and falling without being able to fire a single curse. The distraction had worked!

A cry of victory ran out as Hermione stuplified the last Death Eater. Voldemort ran out of the crowd of nudists, fear in his eyes.

"Get him!" Ginny Weasley shouted, raising a fist in the air. The students shouted, running toward the Dark Lord.

Voldemort turned tail in that moment, fleeing toward one of the side doors out of the Hall. Harry, closest to the exit, chased after him, a few hundred similarly naked students close at his heels as they ran through the castle.

Almost close enough to touch the dark wizard's robes, Harry did not notice where Lord Voldemort had led him. The Dark Lord turned, firing a hex which served to push the group back. He reached up suddenly and touched a portrait of a fruit basket, running his fingers over the pear. A door handle appeared, and he wrenched it open, running inside. Harry ran after him, stopping when he entered the kitchens.

Lord Voldemort raised his wand once more, and Harry threw himself to the floor. The pear door slammed such with the curse's impact. Harry could hear the students outside, banging on it. They would be inside in minutes, he was sure. Voldemort ran to the opposite side of the room.

It was then that both Harry and Voldemort took a moment to recognize what was so different about the kitchens. Most obviously, there were no elves present, all of them with the other nudists, but Harry found it quite strange that there was a huge mixing bowl the height of at least three men sitting at the center of the room where there were normally four tables to represent the Great Hall. The bowl had a stair case wrapped around it, presumable so that one might reach the top and stir the great ladle hanging over its wide rim.

"That's odd," Harry stated. "Do you smell bananas?"

Voldemort looked away from the bowl giving Harry a distasteful look. "Chocolate banana pudding," he hissed.

"Really? I haven't had that in ages!" Harry grinned, simultaneously jumping out to the side as the killing curse flew his way.

"I will kill you, Harry Potter!" Voldemort all but growled.

Harry began to aim his wand, but thought better of it. "You can't kill me that way, and neither can I defeat you with a wand alone."

"Watch me," Voldemort gloated.

Harry ran toward the bowl, as the Dark Lord prepared for battle. Propped beside the stairs were two huge spoons at least half as tall as the young wizard. Harry picked up one of the utensils and took the steps around the bowl two at a time.

"Have you gotten a new wand?" Harry called down.

Voldemort, writhing in anger, grabbed the other spoon, running after the wizard. "I have not."

"Neither have I. They're brothers. One can not defeat the other. We will have to do battle another way unless you want to stop by the wand shop first. I was honestly expecting swords or some ultimate weapon. Perhaps even the (insert rainbow effects here) power of love," Harry explained.

"And you're telling me this why?" Voldemort asked reaching the rim of the bowl. Harry stood on the other side of the rim, almost slipping in a gob of pudding that had spilled over. Between the two of them awaited a small pond of tropical smelling chocolate. Harry raised his spoon with both hands, holding his wand against it.

"Because I want you know how you're going to die, Voldemort."

"It will be you who dies tonight!" Voldemort shouted.

"No, it will be you," Harry yelled back.

"No, you."


"Potter, I will spoon you to death if it's the last thing I ever do," Voldemort raged.

"Spoon me to death? That doesn't sound right."

"We're using spoons, idiot." The Dark Lord shook his head. "Nevermind!" Voldemort laughed wickedly. "Take heart, Potter. Your little friends will soon join you in death, after they are torture for days in and have begged for my mercy, of course."

"Could you get any more clichéd? Fight me already, you bastard!"

Spoons flew through the air, sparks flying as they met. Blows were exchanged; both opponents struggled to keep their balance. Finally, one utensil was released, falling to the kitchen floor with a clatter. Harry slipped, weaponless, and fell, grabbing hold to the rim, desperate to pull the rest of his body over the side.

Voldemort smiled at him, his red eyes glimmering. He dropped his own spoon down into the pudding, holding his wand out at the defenseless wizard. "Say goodbye, Potter."

The Dark Lord stepped to the side, eyes suddenly wide as his feet flew out from beside him. Voldemort let out a strangled cry, toppling into the chocolate. His body disappeared below. A moment later a hand shot out of the pudding, grasping at the air. The fingers curled, leaving a thumb sticking up in the air. Slowly, all that was Lord Voldemort sunk down into the chocolaty depths.

Harry threw a leg over the rim, catching his breath. He looked across him and saw that which had for so many years been the bane of Voldemort's existence: a banana peel.

A memory that should not have existed was now playing through Harry's mind in flashes of images from the past. His mother giving her life for him. . . Voldemort stepping forward to deliver the killing curse. . . The Dark Lord's foot slipping on the banana peel that his mother had dropped when she had been interrupted while making chocolate banana pudding. . . Voldemort spitting out a foul word as his curse ricocheted off the off-centered bull's-eye on the toddler's forehead, hitting the Dark Lord in return. . .

"Go figure," Harry shrugged.

The pear shaped door flew open, and students flooded into the room, as did the professors and house elves. Harry stumbled down the steps off the bowl to meet them. Hermione was walking toward him, Snape closely following her behind.

"What took you all so long?"

"Dumbledore said that we should let you finish it alone," Hermione said with an apologetic smile. "It is finished, isn't it?"

Harry looked over his shoulder at the bowl. "I dunno. . .It was only pudding. Of course, he could have drowned. I'm just not sure."

Snape looked up with an arched brow. "He fell in? Then I am quite certain he is gone for good. The Dark Lord was allergic to chocolate."

"No wonder he was so angry at the world," commented a voice. Harry saw Ron appear and smiled brightly at his friend.

"So, evil's defeated," Hermione stated. "What now?"

"Well, Harry's got a fan club waiting in the Great Hall. Quite a few ladies were impressed with you," Ron said.

"With my defeat of Lord Voldemort?"

"No, mate," Ron laughed.

Draco appeared beside the red head, a smirk on his face. "I told you that you had nothing to hide. I suppose I can call you Harry now, since you've been so intimately introduced to the world."

Harry looked down at his naked self. "I'm nude."

"Brilliant deduction," Snape sneered. Hermione elbowed the professor and playfully grabbed his arm, leading him away from the rest of her friends.

"So what do you think? Breezier, isn't it?" Ron noted.

Harry grinned. "I actually feel quite giddy right now."

"We can tell, mate," Ron replied.

"How can you not be?" Draco questioned. "Who isn't happy when they're naked? It's impossible to stay upset. Maybe the Dark Lord should have tried it."

Harry looked up to see Dumbledore approaching him. "Right you are, Mr. Malfoy. If Tom Riddle had embraced his freer side, perhaps the hate that fueled his evil powers would have faded long ago."

The group nodded sagely.

"Now all we have to do is get the world to take off their clothes," Ron said with a smirk.

"Sounds like fun. Let's start with the Ministry," Harry suggested. "One day, nudity shall unite us all."