Disclaimer: All characters and situations established are the property of JK Rowling. No profit is being made on this piece by the author or

Summary: -Of course the Head Girl and Boy share a bed, Hermione! It's, like, the law or something! Decency? What's that? – Hermione becomes Head Girl, but something is seriously wrong with Hogwarts…

This story is a PARODY. You have been warned.

A/N: Yes, I've written yet another parody about Hermione, while neglecting my existing stories. –cowers- I just can't seem to get them out of my system! However, this one will have a bit more plot than the last, thank goodness. I hope that you all enjoy, and please review. I love getting feedback. Also, this fic is dedicated to Miss Piratess, simply because she is an awesome person.And lastly, I am severely out of practicewith writing fan fiction. Sorry in advance! All right, now enjoy the show (I hope)!

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Horrified Head Girl

Hermione Granger snapped upright as an ear-shatteringly high-pitched shriek assaulted her ears. "What was that?" she hissed to her friends, scanning the common room for the source of the commotion.

Ron blinked distractedly at her. "What're you talking about, Hermione?" he mumbled, leafing through the pages of The Idiot's Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, "Did you hear anything, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, glancing worriedly around nevertheless. Harry's paranoia had increased tenfold over the past year, as the Order had reported a suspicious lack of activity among Voldemort's supporters.

Seeing the strange looks she was receiving, Hermione sighed and picked up her book once more, flashing a reassuring smile at Harry as she searched for her page. "Must have been my imagination, then. Never mind. Anyways… Ron, it's a very simple concept. You simply picture the object in your mind, calculate its centrifugal force-"

She broke off as a loud banging sounded from the portrait hole. Muttering angrily to herself, she trudged to the opening and swung open the portrait to find a pimply, nervous-looking Second Year standing outside.

Upon seeing her, he fumbled in his pockets and drew out a crumpled piece of paper. "Er… Her-Her-Hermione Granger," he stuttered, his pale hair flopping into his eyes, "You are requested to v-v-visit the Headmaster's Office immediately for an important briefing." Upon the completion of his message, he quickly scurried out of sight.

Unable to restrain a brief flash of panic, Hermione jumped as a hand descended upon her shoulder. She spun around to find… Ron.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" he asked, brow furrowing with concern, "You look like Crookshanks after Mrs. Norris tried to mate with him behind Hagrid's pumpkins last Halloween."

Hermione smiled despite herself. A small part of her noted that Ron looked especially good that day. In a completely platonic, non-sexual way, of course. "I just have to see Professor Dumbledore for a moment, Ron. I'll help you later," she said hastily, stepping out of the common room before he could see the flaming blush that was steadily staining her cheeks.

Hermione entered Dumbledore's office, mentally reviewing every possible thing that she could have done to break school rules. Suddenly, she paused, crouching down to peer at the impassive gargoyle guarding the entrance. 'Since when was Dumbledore's office accessible without the password…?'

"Miss Granger!" Dumbledore smiled, beckoning her into the room, "Please take a seat next to Miss Prewitt and Mr. O'Malley."

Hermione smiled uncertainly and sank into a chair; her feeling of dread rising steadily as the Heads grinned unnaturally widely at her, instead of their usual reserved smiles. Dumbledore coughed pointedly, and she quickly turned her attention back to him.

"Miss Granger, I have wonderful news!" Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "Miss Prewitt here is resigning her position as Head Girl because she… she… er…"He paused, evidently flustered. "Because her duties were interfering with her House's weekly Gobstones tournament, that's why!" He cried, nodding emphatically, "And I have selected you to take her place."

Hermione blinked. Surely she must have misheard. She could have sworn that Dumbledore had said something about making her Head Girl. "Er… Sir?" she asked dubiously, "I'm a Sixth Year. By the rules of Hogwarts, I can't become Head Girl until next year."

Dumbledore's face immediately lost its happy glow and darkened with rage. 'WHAT do they put in those lemon drops?' Hermione wondered irreverently, watching his visage suffuse with color.

"I thought She took care of that little detail when She changed…" Dumbledore muttered angrily under his breath, eyes darting anxiously around the office. Then, the gleam returned again. "Who cares about rules?" he cried, letting out a high-pitched squeal. "You're, like, so smart!"

Hermione's mouth fell open.

"Ah, Miss Weasley has arrived!" Dumbledore exclaimed, oblivious to Hermione's horror, "She will show you to your new rooms."

"Come on, 'Mione!" Ginny giggled, taking Hermione's arm and half-dragging her out of the office, chattering endlessly as they walked.

"Don't call me 'Mione!" Hermione snapped, and then did a double take as she finally noticed Ginny's appearance.

She had streaked her pretty auburn curls with blonde and liberally applied gel until they lay in stiff ringlets. She was wearing a clingy peasant blouse, fishnet tights, and a black leather miniskirt that would have given Mrs. Weasley a coronary if she had seen it. Heavy make-up and a set of Gothika Goblin's Glowing Contacts for Glamorous Girls™ completed the garish ensemble.

"Ginevra Weasley!" Hermione cried, making a mental note to owl Mrs. Weasley as soon as possible, "What has gotten into you? You look like some sort of… aging prostitute!"

Ginny beamed. "Thank you," she said, attempting to toss her hair over her shoulder. When her starchy curls wouldn't move, despite her considerable efforts, she settled for winking in an overtly sexual manner instead. "Now wait 'till you see your new rooms! They're so pretty… all decked out in the House colors and stuff! I think Dumbledore ordered the draperies from France…"

Hermione sighed, tuned out Ginny's endless prattle, and concentrated on trying rationalize the sudden changes in leadership. 'Did Ravenclaw even hold a weekly Gobstones tournament…?'

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Why do you know so much about the Head Girl's quarters?" she asked, faintly suspicious.

Ginny grinned saucily. "Well, you see, the Head Boy and Girl share a room- and a bed, even- and when I was fooling around with Craig O'Malley-"

"You did wha- Wait, the Head Boy and Girl share a bed?" Hermione whispered, horrified.

"Of course they do, Hermione!" Ginny cried, giggling shrilly, "It's, like, the law or something!"

A small part of Hermione was vaguely annoyed for being struck dumb so many times in one day. "What about decency?" she asked, finding her voice with some effort.

Ginny blinked. "Decency?" she asked, her eyes oddly blank, "What's that?"

"Granger!"

Hermione smiled broadly in relief as she saw Harry and Ron advancing towards her. "Harry, Ron, you won't believe what hap-"

They frowned, cutting off her words. "Hermione, we've decided that we don't like you anymore," Harry said woodenly, waving his wand at her to emphasize his point.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat for an instant, then she burst into laughter. "V-very funny, boys," she gasped, giggling, "Seriously-"

"No, we're serious," Ron cut in, using the same flat tone, his eyes wide and staring. "We don't like you anymore because you're a bookworm."

"You've always known that, and that never bothered you before," Hermione pointed out, quickly becoming tired of their strange little joke Honestly, what had gotten into everyone?

For the first time in their encounter, Harry and Ron looked uncertain. "Well… you don't like us playing Quidditch…"

"I come to all of your games."

"You care too much about House Elves…"

"I stopped bothering them after Fifth Year."

"Er… you have crooked teeth?"

"Had them straightened."

"You put honey on your toast instead of jam."

"…"

"Because- because you're a Mudblood!" Harry cried savagely, "Ron and I don't want to associate with the likes of you anymore!"

Ron nodded stupidly. Hermione's heart sank.

"You bastards!" Ginny cried dramatically, hastily inserting herself into the "fight" before Hermione could react. She slapped them both, her tiny hands barely leaving a mark.

"Come on, 'Mione," she said, pulling her down the hallway without a backwards glance, worriedly inspecting her nails for chips.

Hermione let herself be dragged along, staring in shock at the frozen figures in the corridor. They looked coldly back, the glazed, deadened look in their eyes more prominent than ever. 'Ron...'

Her line of thought was quickly shoved to the back of her mind as Ginny dragged her in front of a painting of Aphrodite and Adonis engaging in some rather questionable acts. "Here we are, 'Mione!"

Hermione resisted the urge to cover Ginny's eyes. "Don't call me 'Mione," she muttered perfunctorily.

"Password's Nymphomania," Ginny remarked, ignoring her.

The lovers paused in the midst of their romping, clearly irritated. Venus threw a robe over her luscious body and snapped her fingers. The portrait grudgingly swung forward, revealing an immense chamber that had probably cost a fortune to build.

Priceless ornaments filled the place- even the inkpots were made from dwarvish crystal that sparkled like diamonds. A baby grand piano stood in one corner of the room, surrounded by several comfortable armchairs. A roaring fire started crackling in the hearth as Hermione gazed wonderingly around the room. A full entertainment system, including a wide-screen television, graced the center of the room, despite the fact that Muggle objects were not supposed to work at Hogwarts. The walls were painted in violent shades of red, gold, green, and silver. She winced. Clearly the builders of this room had far more wealth than fashion sense.

Hermione slowly opened a large door at the far side of the chamber, dreading what she was about to see. "And since when did O'Malley decorate his room in Slytherin colors…?"

She gasped. The door apparently led to the common bedroom. In the middle of the room was a large featherbed, covered with expensive, green velvet sheets.

Lying on the bed was Draco Malfoy, wearing a smirk that threatened to engulf his pasty, disgustingly smug face.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Ginny said, following Hermione into the room. "Draco's been made Head Boy!"

-TBC-

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A/N: Hm… I guess this is going to become a multi-chapter affair. Fair enough. I'm having a blast writing this thing, anyways. And no, this story is not going to be D/Hr- like I said, it's making fun of those silly "Hermione and Draco become Head Girl and Boy and fall in love" fics, in its own pathetically unfunny way. Besides, I think I made it abundantly clear whom Hermione's going to end up with, no? I hope you enjoyed the story, and please give me some feedback! -Sarah