A Sight Problem

AN: I actually started this story a couple months ago but dropped it because it seemed so weird, and this is coming from a guy who posted a Vampire Hermione story! Well, we could all use a laugh so continue if you dare. I'll post new chapters when I finish them. The whole thing should be about 4 or 5 chapters.

"For the last time, I am not going to set up Wildfire Whiz-Bangs during my speech! Why did I bother coming to you two for help?" Harry groaned.

Fred shrugged with a grin. "It was rather a stupid move on your part, wasn't it? But seriously, I don't get your problem. Hermione helped write your speech-"

"If by help, you mean create, edit, and re-edit," George put in.

"-and Ron's helping you practice it. And the celebration's not for another few days. Great Merlin, you killed You-Know-Who! What are you so worried about?"

Harry glared at the redheaded twin. "Oh, I don't know. Looking like a fool in front of over thousands of people? Is that so hard to understand?"

The twins exchanged glances.

"You must have forgotten who you're talking to because-"

"We always look like fools-"

"And we're damn proud of it!" The two finished in chorus.

Harry rolled his eyes. He said, "Look, I was just hoping that you had something that could, you know, give me some confidence. Maybe you guys wouldn't care, but I'd rather not faint or vomit my guts out if I can help it."

"Well, we're not exactly in the habit of helping people," Fred replied. "Sorry, Harry."

George said, "You're going to do fine. You're Harry Potter. You could tell that audience to screw themselves and they'd clap until the roof came crashing down!"

"And won't that go well in future editions of Hogwarts, a History?" Harry said sarcastically. "In the Great Hall at Hogwarts, Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived and Defeater of He Who Must Not Be Named, told his adoring supporters to go 'eff' themselves."

"I know I would read about it," Fred said smiling.

Harry threw up his hands in frustration. "I'm beginning to think Dean's idea of picturing the audience in their underwear isn't so bad after all. Thanks anyway, guys, but I got to get back before the teachers notice I'm not in Hogsmeade."

He closed his eyes and Disapparated.

Fred turned to George and raised an eyebrow. "Picture the audience in their underwear?" He shook his head. "Muggles are weird."

"Tell me about it," George agreed. Then his eyes widened. "Wouldn't that make a great Wheeze though?"

"Er... I think that would be crossing a line. We're twisted, but not that twisted."

"Yeah, I guess the shop would be overrun by perverts."

"Not exactly the wholesome family image we want to present," Fred said with only a hint of irony.

George sagged into a chair and cross his arms. "Being responsible sucks."

The two went back to totaling up their receipts when a smirk grew on Fred's face. He said, "Wait, didn't Harry say he wanted our help?"

A matching smirk appeared on George's face. He said, "It would be a shame to waste such a good idea-"

"And it is for the benefit of our financial backer," Fred continued.

"It's practically our responsibility to help out the savior of the wizarding world."

"And we should make some for ourselves."

"Merely for research purposes."

"But of course."

Harry stared blankly at the color-coded notecards that Hermione had written up for him and sighed deeply. He didn't want to do this! The largest group he had ever spoken in front of was the D.A and he had known most of those people! He wondered if Ron and Hermione would be willing to go hide in Bermuda with him until this whole thing blew over.

He knew his friends thought he was making a big deal over this, but they didn't understand. For ten years, no one gave a damn about what he thought or what he had to say. Now he was responsible for ushering in a 'new era?' Talk about pressure.

Life after Voldemort was supposed to be better for him. But Dumbledore was screening the thousands of owls that were being sent to him, the other students were staring at him warily again, and Snape was being a bigger bastard than usual, which was a feat even for him. On the other hand, he no longer had a psychotic, racist wizard gunning for him, so that was a plus.

Thank Merlin for his best friends. They deflected the worst of his fan club. Ron was having a blast recounting the Last Battle (and every embellishment he could get away with) to anyone who would listen. And Hermione... she did whatever had to be done to help him. That was the only way to describe it, but those words were so insufficient for everything she had done to cheer him up and make school more bearable.

Harry heard the flutter of wings then he felt a presence land beside him on his bed. He opened his eyes and smiled at the snowy-white owl. "Hey Hedwig. What have you got for me?" He petted the owl as he untied a lurid green envelope from her leg. Hedwig then flew over to her water bowl.

He saw the letters WWW on the front and felt a chill go down his back. He gingerly held the envelope by a corner then realized he was being silly. The twins had undoubtedly booby-trapped the letter, but he was reasonably sure they wouldn't harm him. Besides, he could do with a good laugh.

With a shrug, he tore open the envelope. A cloud of sparkling dust saturated the air and Harry involuntarily inhaled. He momentarily panicked then became confused when nothing happened. He quickly checked his limbs and noticed nothing amiss.

Confused, Harry withdrew the sheet of paper from its housing and read it silently.

Hiya Harry!

We've noticed that you've been a little stressed lately. What do you mean we, white man? Fred, seriously, you got to stop quoting dad's telly shows. What you talking about, Georgie? Excuse me while I go strangle my brother...

I'm back. Fred's currently contemplating his evil ways trapped in the dumbwaiter. Anyway, we thought you could use some amusement so now presenting another fine product of Weasley ingenuity is: Translucent Dust!

What does it do you might naturally ask. Well, you'll see. Or not see in this case.

How did you get out? They haven't created a dumbwaiter that can hold Fred Weasley! But why are you covered in tomato sauce? Never you mind!

Back to the point. We had a point? For the last two days, we have slaved night and day (Mostly days) developing a way to help you get over your stage fright. We think you'll like it. And if you don't, it was all George's idea. Hey!


Gred and Forge

P.S. This message will self-destruct. Uh, what he said.

Harry stared at the letter in disbelief and almost singed his fingers when it burst into flames and vanished. He thought that he was more confused now than before! He still didn't know what the twins had done to him, but it had to be something.

He furrowed his forehead. He may not have been Hermione-smart, but he should be able to figure this out. Translucent meant 'see-through,' but that didn't help him. He hadn't turned invisible and he certainly hadn't gained the ability to see through walls.

Lost in thought, he almost didn't hear the door open and the sound of light footsteps enter the room.

"Harry, what are you still doing up here? We're going to be late for Transfiguration," Hermione said.

"I'm coming," Harry replied absently, standing up. He raised his eyes, blanched, stumbled backwards, and tripped over his bed.

"Harry! Are you okay?" Hermione asked, rushing over to him.

Harry suddenly found his bedposts quite fascinating. He had never noticed the engraved lions before. It was very fine craftsmanship. Whiskers and everything.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

Harry automatically looked over at her and blushed. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut then demanded, "What the hell are you wearing?"

Hermione sounded puzzled. "My robes and school uniform. Why?"

"Because you're in your-" Harry's brain cut in before he could say 'knickers.' He tried to cover up with fake coughing.

Hermione glanced at him suspiciously. "Are you alright?"

"Never better," Harry said, laughing nervously. "I just woke up from a strange dream and was disoriented. Well, time for class! You go ahead. I'll catch up."

Still staring at him strangely, Hermione got up and left.

Harry picked himself up and mopped his now perspiring brow with his sleeve. He was going to kill Fred and George! He tried to banish the memory of Hermione standing before him in nothing but her white bra and panties. He couldn't allow himself to think of her toned, slender legs, or her flat stomach, or her surprisingly fleshy chest... Bad Harry! Bad!

He took two deep, shuddering breaths and centered himself. The dust had probably worn off by now. None of the Weasley twins' products ever lasted for very long. He'd just go down and reassure Hermione that the last few days had gotten to him, but he was fine now.

But it was soon very clear that the effect had not gone away. And it seemed that Fred and George had kindly made it so only the outer clothing of females appeared to be gone. It looked like one of Dean's Victoria's Secret catalogs had exploded in the halls of Hogwarts.

Lavender, true to her name, was wearing some purple set thing that didn't appear to be sufficient for the job for which they were created. Parvati was surprisingly more modest with her choice of attire and while it wasn't as daring as Lavender's, it certainly looked more comfortable.

Susan Bones walked by and Harry wondered why all girls didn't just wear front-snap bras as they looked much simpler to put on. Then he was distracted by Katie Bell who was keeping her strapless black bra from falling off by some mysterious means unknown to him.

While most of the young women walking past him wore wholly functional underclothing (which didn't stop him from staring at them with widened eyes, of course), many wore unmentionables that were clearly impractical for daily wear.

Good lord, was that a garter belt?

"Er, Harry," Hermione said, sounding embarrassed. "I would normally give you a strict lecture, but I don't want to cause a commotion, and it's perfectly understandable that since you don't have Voldemort after you, you want to stop and uh, smell the roses..."

Harry looked at her in confusion. He also resolutely kept his eyes on her face.

"Do you think you can be a little bit more discreet?" Hermione whispered fiercely.

Harry could feel himself turn red from head to toe. He never had such a strong desire for Snape to come bellowing for his head before.

"I know you're a boy and you really can't help yourself. Heaven knows how many times Ron's stared at me when he thought I wasn't looking. You too for that matter, but you're much better at it usually. It must be the glasses..."

The ground seemed to be taking an awfully long time to open up and swallow him.

"You know?" Harry asked, horrified.

Hermione smirked mischievously at him. "All girls know, Harry. So kindly put your eyes back in your head."

Her words managed to cow him for all of 30 seconds before his hormones took over again. But he was extra careful not to be obvious this time.

Maybe this won't be so bad, Harry thought. Not that he wanted this to be a permanent thing or anything. He wasn't a pervert. Well, not more than was usual for a guy his age, he mused.

Harry was so busy arguing with himself that when he got to the classroom and McGonagall called his name, he looked at her without thinking. And he immediately learned a whole new meaning for the phrase, 'Granny panties.'

The last thing he remembered was the floor rushing up at him.