Harry Potter and the Magic of Puberty

During Harry’s second semester that year, he began to develop what we Muggles refer to as pubic hair. Now, try as Harry might to apparate himself from his freshly born curlies, it was to no avail.

Was everyone experiencing the same transformations Harry wondered? Being a Wizard in training certainly had its perks but one serious knock on Hogwart’s was that children were sent off at such a young age and didn’t have the opportunity to be corrupted by good Muggle television. Hence, Harry and his mates didn’t have the slightest chance to study pornography or the chance to have their imaginations sparked by the melony flesh of Cassandra on “Up All Night.” ...Months passed and Harry couldn’t keep his secret any longer.

“Dumbledore, can we talk?”

“Sure Harry, you know my door is always open.”

Harry stepped into his chambers and dropped his pants. “What’s with the hair? One night I’m casting a homework spell, the next thing I know I’m waking up with… with…. THESE!”

“Harry, perhaps you’d better have a seat. I’ve been through this before.”

Harry pulled up his trousers and took a seat in the massive Hagglestooth chair across from Dumbledore. That’s when Harry began to spill his guts. He told of the time he woke up in a hot sweat in the middle of the night and had to change his sheets and skivvies before his roommate Weasley woke up. Then there was this odd feeling he’d been getting every time he saw Hermione. It was especially strong when Hermione would fly her broomstick or practice casting her Expellarimus.

“It’s at times like that Dumbledore; I want to just blow my Floo Powder and apparate myself into Hermione’s bosom. Is that weird?”

I don't have anything against Rowling or her Hairy Potter series. Really.

What?

That?

That's a typo.