Minerva McGonagall (Harry Potter)

The curtain shot upward with a thunderous blast of magically amplified fanfares. Bright spotlights, enchanted never to blind even the most light-sensitive wizards, slammed down onto the stage. The studio was packed to the rafters: witches and wizards of all ages, pure-bloods, half-bloods, and even a few Muggle-borns who had passed the Ministry’s strict security checks.

In the center of the stage, behind a tall podium, stood Minerva McGonagall.

She was sixty. A stern green robe, hair pulled into a tight bun, square glasses perched on her nose. She was trying to maintain her usual dignity, but it was nearly impossible. A thin silver “Collar of Fate” sat snugly around her neck, already restricting her movements. She could turn her head slightly and wiggle her fingers, but her legs and torso were almost completely immobile.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Witches and wizards!” boomed the host’s voice. “Welcome to a brand-new special edition of the show, brought to you by the Ministry of Magic to help rebuild Hogwarts! This is… Bimbo or Billions of Galleons!”

The hall exploded with applause and whistles.

A tall, charming wizard in his forties strode across the stage with confident steps, wearing a bright red robe with golden patterns — Jack.

“Thank you, thank you! And now allow me to introduce our very special contestant tonight… Professor Minerva McGonagall!”

The audience’s reaction was mixed. Some clapped out of respect for the war heroine, but most started whispering and snickering. No shit — the strict Transfiguration expert, former Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, one of the most respected witches in Britain — standing there as a contestant on the most shameful show in the magical world.

Jack walked closer, grinning widely.

“Professor McGonagall, or as we might soon be calling her — just Minnie… You’re here for a very noble cause. After the war with Voldemort, Hogwarts needs major repairs. Towers, dungeons, the roof of the Great Hall… The Ministry decided the best way to raise funds was to give our beloved professor a chance to win a billion Galleons. Or… turn into something much more… entertaining.”

McGonagall pressed her lips together. The collar wouldn’t let her snap too hard, but her voice was still hers.

“I agreed to this for the school, Mr. Jack,” she said coldly, with her characteristic Scottish accent. “And I intend to win that money.”

The hall responded with chuckles and scattered shouts: “Good luck, Professor!” and “Take off the robe!”

Jack raised his hand to calm the crowd.

“As you all know, the rules are simple. Twenty-four boxes. Twelve with money, twelve with transformations. First physical, then mental. The audience chooses each transformation from four options. The Collar of Fate is already active and will make sure our respected professor behaves… nicely.”

He turned to the cameras.

“And now let me introduce the girl with the boxes — Chrissy!”

A busty blonde in an extremely skimpy bikini decorated with stars and moons stepped into the spotlight. Chrissy waved cheerfully and giggled, making her massive tits jiggle.

“Chrissy used to be a very promising witch… but she opened twelve bimbo boxes in a row. Now she’s here forever!”

Chrissy blew a kiss to the audience.

Jack continued:

“Behind the monitors we have our technical specialists from the Department of Experimental Magic. They’re the ones controlling the Collar of Fate. And over there, in the shadows…” — he pointed to a completely darkened box upstairs where a silhouette in black was barely visible — “our mysterious sponsor, known only as… the Accountant.”

The hall fell respectfully silent for a second.

“Well, Professor,” Jack turned back to McGonagall, “are you ready to risk your reputation, your body, and your mind for Hogwarts?”

Minerva looked straight into the camera. That same steel glint still burned in her eyes — the one that had made generations of students tremble.

“For Hogwarts… I’m ready for a lot.”

The hall roared.

Jack grinned broadly:

“Then let the game begin! Ladies and gentlemen… is she a Bimbo… or a Billionaire?!”

The audience picked up the chant:

“Bimbo! Or! Billionaire!”