One-shot fanfiction. Harry and Hermione are curled up on the couch, cowering over a classic horror film. In (belated) honor of Halloween. Jealous boyfriends can be scarier than anything on the big screen. Especially when the boyfriend in question is six-three, with red hair and a bad temper.

I have never, ever claimed to own anything Harry Potter, except for the plot. If I could manage to mimic any fabulous style of writing well enough, I sure as hell wouldn't be writing fanfiction.

Harry and Hermione sat curled up on the old couch, in the darkened living room of Grimmauld Place. An old, classic horror movie was playing on the small, muggle television screen. They had invited Ron, but he just didn't get the concept of watching the entire world through a small muggle box.

Carefully, the dewy, blond actress was slicing meat with a butcher knife. The music quietly alluded to the upcoming scenes, and a black figure crept out of the shadows behind her. She didn't hear a thing; she just kept on slicing her choice cuts. It was one of those movies where you want to scream at the woman, turn around!!! HE'S RIGHT BEHIND YOUUU!!

Eyes glued to the screen, Hermione whimpered softly and pressed her cheek into Harry's shoulder. There was a large pillow in her lap that she was clutching with clawed fingers for dear life, and the popcorn lay forgotten on the floor. His hand was laid on the pillow, completely frozen and tense.

"AAAAAAAGHHH!!!!" the woman's bloodcurdling scream tore through the heavy silence, making both Harry and Hermione jump. The shadowy man grabbed the woman, and began to viciously choke her.

Hermione grabbed his hand, and squeezed hard. The girl was lying, broken and bruised, on the floor, and the psycho murderer began to laugh chillingly.

"Oh my—"Hermione pressed the corner of the pillow to her mouth, to stop her from shrieking uncontrollably. This was absolutely terrifying! She was never going to be able to go down to the kitchens for a midnight snack EVER again. EVER.

Harry snickered at her. His other hand went into the popcorn bowl again, and he stuffed a fistful into his mouth. He offered the bowl to her.

"Pofcorn?" he mumbled. She waved him away, and they settled back into the movie.

Twenty minutes later, and the murderer's motive was found. Really, he had none. He was actually mentally unstable, with an unquenchable need for blood. Before the germs of insanity had taken over, his mind had been unparalleled. He was a psycho evil genius. Nothing scarier, really. He couldn't be caught. Every policeman, FBI agent, and local in the tri-state area was after him, and he managed to flit through their grasp, time and time again, killing innocent victims in the darkness along the way.

He was currently stalking a teenage girl as she walked down a dark alleyway, alone. She strained her ears to catch anything… she could feel his eyes on her back. She would snap around, trying to peer into the darkness, and the psycho would jump into a doorway or duck behind some trash-cans. He got closer, and closer… He was a foot away, hands outreached, a knife glinting in the moonlight, and then…

"BLOODY HELL!!!!!"

Hermione let out a bone-splintering scream, and Harry yelled in shock. The popcorn went flying in all directions. Harry reflexively hit the pause button, and wrenched his head around so fast he nearly had whiplash.

Ron stood, furious, in the doorway. He let out a bellow of rage. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH MY GIRLFRIEND?!"

They both blinked in surprise. And then it dawned on Hermione… Ohh… She looked down at their entwined hands and quickly released his. She realized that they had been cuddled together, shoulder to shoulder, feet overlapping each other on the foot-rest.

"What are you on about, mate?" Harry asked stupidly, not quite catching on. Hermione rolled her eyes and stiffly got off the couch.

"Relax, Ron. We're huddled together for protection from a psychotic killer. I'm not cheating on you," she said laughingly. His murderous expression did not alleviate.

Ron huffed, stomping up the stairs. Hermione grimaced at Harry, who looked on awkwardly.

"Err… yeah. I don't fancy you, Hermione."

She snorted, throwing him a quick eye-roll as she followed Ron up the stairs to do damage control.

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