Flat, fat, Mrs. Weasley.

Ever since Mr. Weasley's attack, Harry had been moping around the Grimmauld Place all Christmas Break. It didn’t help that Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the Twins were all out shopping for presents. The only ones left at the Order’s hideout were Mr. Weasley, who was asleep, Mrs. Weasley, busy cooking up a storm in the kitchen, and Kreacher.

The house elf busily searched through the room as Harry sat in the corner, looking through one of Sirus’ old family album.

“Nasty halfbreeds, cluttering up master’s house…”

“Kreacher, no offense, but I’m really not in the mood for you.”

“Of course. Harry Potter is too busy putting wretched Weasleys in the hospital.”

Harry wasn’t in the mood to put up with the house elf’s sass and he grabbed the tiny creature around the scruff of his collar. Kreacher raised his hands in defense.

“K-Kreacher didn’t mean it. Kreacher wants to help Harry Potter. He wants to make it up to Master Weasley, yes?”

Harry loosened his grip. “That depends on what you have in mind.”

“A spell used by Master Black,” the house elf smiled, revealing a pair of rotten teeth. “Kreacher can teach Harry Potter. Very simple.”

Harry sighed and released the house elf. “Fine, but this better be worth it.”

Kreacher dusted himself off and motioned Harry to follow him.

The house elf led the wizard boy all the way to the basement of the mansion. Harry surmised that the area was Kreacher’s den, judging by the horrible smell and assortment of collected treasures from around the house. Kreacher dug through a nearby pile and pulled out a long black rod. Harry instantly recognized it as someone’s wand.

“Mistress’s wand,” Kreacher answer. “Required for the spell. Simply point and say Deflatus Os Cutis.”

“Deflatus--”

“Not now!” snapped the house elf. “Very potent. Only if you mean it, Potter!”

Harry nodded and accepted the wand. It was very gnarled and twisted, like it had rotted through the ages. It almost seemed to prick Harry’s hand as he adjusted the handle in his palm.

“How is this supposed to help Mr. Weasley.”

“Impatient, Potter. Come.”

This time, Kreacher led Harry back upstairs to an area of the mansion that he was more familiar with. A pleasant aroma coming from the kitchen filled Harry’s nostrils. Mrs. Weasley was hard at work over the cauldron cooking tonight’s roast for her family. As always, she was short and plump with a healthy, well-fed, body weight. She didn’t even hear Harry and Kreacher come in from behind her.

“Now, Potter,” whispered Kreacher.

Throwing caution to the wind, Harry aimed the Black family’s heirloom wand and chanted the spell. “Deflatus Os Cutis!”

A red bolt shot out of the tip of the wand and struck Mrs. Weasley right in her large bottom. She jumped and spun around with a finger ready to scold, no doubt expecting some prank from her sons, Fred and George. Her angry expression turned to surprise when she locked eyes with Harry.

“Harry…”

She stopped talking and looked with curiosity at her own hand. Her shocked face turned to one full of fear as her entire arm flattened like a balloon.

Harry watched with an odd mixture of fascination and arousal as Mrs. Weasley’s entire body went the way of her deflated limb. It was almost like she was a balloon and someone had let the air out of her. Within seconds, she was nothing more than a heap of skin and clothes on the floor of the kitchen.

It took Harry a moment to snap out of the trance of what has just transpired.

“Kreacher, what did you just have me do?!”

“Spell will let Potter assume the role of nasty Weasley woman. Made her into a wearable suit.”

“Wearable...Is she alright!?”

“She’ll be fine, Potter. Trust, Kreacher. Master Black did spell many times. Wears off in twenty four hours.”

“Kreacher, how am I supposed to explain this to the others!?”

“Potter can impersonate the Weasley and no one will notice. No counterspell. It’s the only way.”

Harry resisted the urge to strangle the house elf and pondered his situation. The others would most likely be home in an hour, and Mr. Weasley could wake up at any moment. He decided to...