(Set in the Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry, inside the Magical Library. It was after midnight. Harry Potter is sitting next to a table in the dark corner of the library, alone polishing his magic wand. Suddenly Hermione Granger walks into the room and was surprised to find Harry. A conversation starts)

Hermione: Harry, what in Norbert's name are you doing here late in this ungodly hour?

Harry: Owh, just polishing my wand here. Nothing much.

Hermione: But why are you sitting here alone? Aren't you afraid that Lord Voldermont would strike at you from the darkness and impale you from behind with his long, dark flaming rod of evil?

Harry: Well, I'd rather polish my wand alone, when nobody is watching.

Hermione: But why?

Harry: Just take a look at my wand, Hermione. It's short and small, like a baby muggle's wand. I'm ashamed of showing my wand to others, especially to the girls. I'll be a laughing stock of the entire Hogwarts if anyone finds out about my small wand.

(Hermione stares at Harry's wand for a brief moment)

Hermione: Well Harry, I don't think that's a small wand you're holding there in your hands. I've seen a lot of wands ever since I set foot on Hogwarts, and I've touched most of them. And I have to say that your's is just...perfect.

Harry: You mean you don't think it's funny that my wand is only 8 inches long, black and has a blunt white tip?

Hermione: Hey, I've seen dozens of boys with much shorter wands, even as short as 2 inches. Heck, if I'm not mistaken, I've probably seen a few boys from across the dorm who doesn't seem to have wands at all.

Harry: Sigh. All this polishing sure is tiresome. I usually polish my wand using my right hand, and when my right hand gets tired, I'll let my right hand rest and continue with my left hand. Sometimes I use vaseline all over my wand so I won't damage it from excessive polishing.

Hermione: Interesting...hey Harry, you must be feeling really tired right now with all that polishing. Why don't you give those manly hands of yours a rest and let me polish your long, hard, thick wand for you? It’s been a while since the last time I polished a boy’s magic wand, and I kinda miss the musky, sensual smell of a wand and the sweet, salty elbow grease that comes spurting out after a hard work of wand polishing.

Harry: You really don't mind?

Hermione: Of course I don't mind. I've polished other guys' wands before, including Ron Weasley's. And boy, he really sure appreciated it. I've done a few jobs for Hagrid's staff, but that's just because he's too old and fat to polish his own soft, rusty excuse for a rod. For 20 galleons, I'd be more than happy to polish any staff, wand, scepter or magic stick. But since you're my best friend, I'll polish your wand for free!

Harry: Whoaa...what can I say...thanks Hermione. I'd never thought that a slutty, sexy girl like you would have the heart to polish my wand.

Hermione: Hey, what are friends for? Besides, maybe your wand will magically grow bigger and thicker after I'm done polishing it.

Harry: Naaah. It'll just shrink back to it's original size. There was this one time when I polished my wand and it magically grew 14 inches, my biggest record so far, but shrunk back after I accidentally saw a potrait of Ms. McGonagal down the hallway. But now after hearing you said you're going to polish it with your soft, sensual hands, I'm feeling that it's beginning to grow a little already!

(Hermione bends down on her knees in front of Harry and starts to polish Harry's magic wand. Hermione uses her left hand to grab hold of the base of the wand and, with her right hand, gently strokes the whole wand in a slow up and down motion, licking the shaft once in a while for some lubricant. Conversation continues…)

Hermione: So, Harry, are you coming to the Hogwarts Senior Prom Night this coming month? I heard a lot of people are coming. Adam and Michelle are coming, Sarah and Josh are coming, and I think Jesica’s going to come, although I don’t know with whom she’s going to come with. So are you going to come or not?

Harry: Well, maybe I’ll come. Will you come with me? Coz I’m feeling like coming, since everybody else seems to be coming, and if I have to come, then I’d rather come with you.

Hermione: Oh, of course I’ll come with you Harry. I could never come without you coming with me. Although I have some doubts about coming, I would feel more secure coming there if you would come with me.

Harry: Are you sure you don’t want to come with Ron? You know, since he has a crush on you and would like to come to the prom with you, maybe you should come with him? Although I really love to come with you, I hate to come between you and Ron.

Hermione: Come to think of it, you’re right. Maybe I should come with Ron. But I’ll have to ask him first whether he’s coming or not. The prom night would become a nightmare if he decides not to come at the last minute. But Harry, if I’m coming with Ron, then who’d you be coming with?

Harry: Owh come on, don’t worry about me. I’ll find somebody else to come with. You said Jesica doesn’t have anybody to come with her right? Well maybe I’ll come with her. And if I can’t find anybody to come with, then I’ll just stay in the hostel and not come to the prom.

Hermione: Owh Harry, I really hope it doesn't come to that. Tell you what, If Ron decides not to come, then I'll definitely come with you. If Ron decides to come and you can't find someone to come with, then I'll find someone for you to come with. I just can't bear coming to the prom without you.

Harry: Okay, okay. I promise I'll come no matter what? Happy now?

Hermione: That's more like it!

(15 minutes after Hermione starts polishing Harry's wand, suddenly the wand starts to grow long and swollen and suddenly burst with sticky, white magic that blew up in front of Hermione's face. Conversation continues...)

Harry: Owh, Hermione, that was the most sensually spectacular magic that ever came spurting out of my swollen, erect wand! Look, your face is covered with white, creamy, sticky magic aura, slowly trickling down from your forehead to your pink, succulent lips...Are you alright, Hermione?

Hermione: Yeah I'm fine. I'm just amazed and puzzled by the insanely huge amount of manly firepower that blew out from the blunt end of your wand's shaft. In fact, I'm having a hard time swallowing the whole logic of it.

Harry: Sorry, my wand tends to blow up creamy white magic when I haven't polished it for a very long time. I think Professor Dumbledore once told us about this phenomena before in Chemistry class. He said that when the milky, sticky life giving aura spends too much time inside the two great balls of arcane majick, the pent up lust erotically builds up and the only way to to restore balance to the majick planes is to purge all the sensual auras in a form of spewing the aura of love in a huge magical climax.

Hermione: Owh, now I understand. I'm glad that all those sticky, salty love auras ended up blowing all over my face. Uhhmm...I can feel the warmth of the magick on my cheeks and the milky essence of the auras flowing inside my mouth to the back of my throat. I am so overwhelmed by the love auras!

(Both of them stood there in momentary silence, basking in the glory of the powerful auras that blew out of the wand. Then the conversation continues...)

Harry: Whoaaa...anyway thanks Hermione for polishing my wand...that was the best wand polishing I've ever had!

Hermione: You're welcome.

End.