Hermione walked and talked and had some fun. She chewed some bubble gum. It was cherry-flavored…yummy…cherries: Maybe I'd like to get mine popped! Oh wait (Hermione pouted) that's already been done. Maybe, she thought, I'll invent a popped-cherry-reversal spell and become famous!

Then Draco bumped into her. She was enraged and turned on. Instantly she stupefied him. He fell heavily. She jumped on him and tore off his pants. Then she jumped on him. It was fun.

"Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!!!"

Draco stirred. She stunned him again and continued on. Unfortunately, she swallowed her cherry-flavored bubble gum, but her terrific orgasm kept her from noticing. Around her, the London population went on, ignoring the rape. She thought yummy again.

"YES!!"

Draco sat up. "Hermione?" He stared at her, but she just continued to rape him. He didn't seem to mind. "Mmmmm."

"SHUT UP YOU NASTY FUCKER!!" yelled Hermione, and stunned him again. He fell back limply, blood trickling from his ears, mouth and nose.

"Uh…Hermione?"

She looked up. Harry and Ron, holding hands and wearing matching purple sweatsuits, were standing over her. She pushed sweaty hair out of her eyes and grinned a little too brightly at them.

"Hey guys! You, uh, gay or something?"

Harry glanced down at his and Ron's joined hands, blinked, and then leaned over to kiss Ron's cheek. Ron grimaced, but Harry agreed ecstatically. Then he sighted something over Ron's shoulder.

"Ooooh, look, Pottery Barn!! Ickle Ronniekins, look! IT'S POTTERY BARN TIME!!" he skipped off, tripped, knocked himself unconscious against a lamp post, lay prone for a moment or two, bounced up again and dashed into Pottery Barn where he began modeling himself against the sets.

"So you and Harry? Is it good?"

Ron groaned. "Nah, I'm really straight. But, you know, this thing with You-Know-Who…he's protection, right? He comes up to me at the end of the day and he's like, 'So, Ron, wanna play with me?' And I'm all like, 'Nah, mate, that's like, weird,' and then he's like, 'But you called me mate, d'you wanna mate with me?' And then I'm like, 'Dude…' and he's like, 'Ohhhhhhhhhhh Ronnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn,' and I'm like, 'I'm not gay,' and he's like, 'Yes you are,' and I'm like, 'No I'm not' and he's like 'Yes you are,' and I'm like 'No I'm not' and he's like 'PLAY WITH ME RON' and I'm like, well all right, he is the Chosen One and if I sleep with him maybe he'll protect me, so them I'm all like, 'Sure, Harry, I'll sleep with you,' and Harry's like 'OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH' and a little part of me died inside."

"That's tragic," said Hermione uncertainly, still straddling Draco.

"So…" said Ron, twiddling his thumbs. "You and Draco, eh?"

"What—oh! No," she said, getting up and straightening her dress. "He's not much good, anyway."

"Yeah…" said Ron. "I didn't think so, either."

Hermione leaned over and threw up into somebody's handbag. Voldemort whirled around, slapped her, and trounced off. She considered calling for Harry, but instead just shrugged.

"He's been cross-dressing a lot lately," said Ron. "Harry and I saw him and Lucius at a gay bar yesterday. They were trashed. Lucius started eating his lipstick and You-Know-Who started a mass orgy with this ant colony that war swarming over a cookie Harry dropped…" Ron giggled histerically.

Behind them, Draco groaned a couple of times. Ron, practically writhing with hysteria, wandered over and started kicking him aimlessly in the ribs. Hermione walked over to help him.

"Exscuse me," said a high-pitched voice at their elbows. It was Voldemort, dressed in a gaudy pink dress and looking very umbalanced, either from his high heels or the paper-wrapped rum bottle in his hand. "D'you know the way to the nearest strip joint? Women…legs…killing Muggles…ahhhhh…"

"Er…" said Ron.

"Uhh…" said Hermione.

"You know, there's a very horny boy in Pottery Barn over there who wants somebody to…play with…" Ron started crying into Hermione's shoulder and Hermione, to comfort him, but her tongue in his ear. Voldemort, meanwhile, sprinted across the street, got run over twice and destroyed one of his Horcruxes, started whining about the world conspiring against him, and eventually made it over to Harry, who eagerly immersed himself in making out with his nemesis.

"Maybe I should have offered him a blow job," said Hermione wistfully, wriggling her tongue into Ron's external auditory meatus. "He looked so lonely."

"Trust me, he doesn't want a blow job," said Ron tearfully. "I already offered…and he…refused," he began to wail piteously. Hermione became impatient and shoved him against a police horse, which Ron tried (unsuccessfully) to eat.

"Horse tastes bad," Ron announced, wandering back over to Hermione, who was sitting on Draco's head and farting wetly.

Just then Professor McGonagall walked up, looking scarily casual in nothing but black lingerie. She had cuts on her back and was carrying a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs in one hand a horsewhip in the other. One of her sagging breasts was attempting to escape from her bra.

"My favorite students!!" she cried, bounding over to them and licking her lips like a sexual predator. "And when I say favorite, I mean favorite…like, I love you two so much…"

Ron whimpered, grabbed Hermione's hand and ran away. From a safe distance they watched their Transfiguration teacher shift into a lithe little cat and start raping a very unfortunate tomcat, who yowled but couldn't escape.

"I want to go home," cried Ron, sucking his thumb.

Hermione grinned evilly. "I'll be your home," she whispered seductively into his ear, biting his lobe. Ron fainted.

Hermione, looking around, saw herself in front of a familiar shabby-looking phone booth, and smiled. She walked over Ron, jammed herself into the tiny box, and dialed the Ministry code.

"State your name and purpose," said a delicate female voice.

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione in a throaty voice. "I'm here to see Arthur Weasley…"