A/N: This just started out as a quick scribble of some random ideas in my head. You know how most people have plot bunnies? Well, I have plot mice. They multiply at a much faster rate, and they die much quicker, too. Luckily for you who actually like my stories (if you even exist) fanfiction is sort of like my magic vet. Every time I come here, I get inspired to work some more on one of my -cough-many-cough, cough– stories. My biggest problem is converting what I have written down on paper onto the computer, because I hate to see how bad my first drafts typically are. To reward myself for having just sat down and typed out the first two sections of my story, I am going to post them online. Please– feed my pet mouse (don't worry, it doesn't bite)–leave a review. Oh, and if you're gonna flame me, at least make the insults funny, ok? While I personally can't pull off the whole sarcastic, cynical, acerbic thing, I find it funny to read (which is why I love Severus so damn much)
So yeah, READ!! (and review, if you want to, but mostly just R E A D!)
P.S.: I am not Rowling. I do not own these characters or the world they live in. But I do own my imagination. I think...Oh NO! I stole this imagination from someone else! How could I do such a thing? I am a horrible person! AAAAAH!!...
Anywhoo...
PROLOGUE
"...What's your problem, Ron? Have you just given up on Harry? Are you just going to roll over and let Voldemort– oh stop it already, it's just a name! Honestly, I should think you'd be over that by now, you never've even had to meet the monster! He's tried to kill Harry personally dozens of times and he can say his name without falling into a coma. You can't even bear to hear someone else say it, let alone yourself! Why can't you grow a back-bone already?"
"Oh, you think I'm a coward, do you? You think Harry is just so much braver and famous-er and powerful-er and handsomer and...and...and..whatever-er than me, well why don't you just go and bloody marry him already?"
"Maybe I will! It isn't as though we really needed you around in order to do anything! In fact, we might even make more progress without you!"
"Ooooh, and now the real feelings are coming out! I should have known. I would never be good enough for you, miss I'm-just-such-a-perfect-little-know-it-all-I-could-just-die! Well, if that's how you feel, then...then..." (Searching wildly for a suitable comeback) "ABRACADABRA!"
As Ron bellowed the word he'd formerly assumed was merely Muggle gibberish, Hermione disappeared, and in the place where she had been standing, millions of iridescent bubbles were pouring out from some unseen, unknown, unheard of somewhere.
A full ten minutes later, a shell-shocked Ron finally realized, as the last bubble popped its sticky splatter all over his once-clean robes, that maybe this was not just a very strange comeback on Hermione's account, but in fact a very bad mistake.