A really- really bad idea - By Billybob-csagun36

Original title: Princess by Jeconais (from his abandoned section)

Jeconais Note # 1: This is in my "Abandoned" section _ and contains Stories that, for one reason or another, I've decided to abandon.

Jeconais Notes # 2:
Some times, writing fan fiction can be a very depressing thing. To draw an analogy here, this piece of writing is like a beloved family pet - you can't see the flaws, and you really like it's company. Until a good friend gently points out that your pet is terminally ill, and that it needs to be put down. Posting it now, in the state that it's in, is the only possible way I can commit fanfic euthanasia.

Question; – is permission required for a rewrite of an abandoned story?

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Billybob's opening notes: This story in its original form is a wandering mess. So I understand why it was (put-down) –

*It mostly takes place at Hogwarts – I changed that - to a post graduation tale.

*It contains a super powerful - super rich – unstoppable Harry at its core, who can defeat an army of guards and humiliate the Veela Royal family as well as the Muggle English Queen … basically; Harry does whatever he pleases. (I really don't like super powerful anyone stories) –

*Most of the original story surrounds Melissa a 'full Veela' princess and Harry's courtship of her (in my version she and Harry becomes the sub-plot).

*Half way into reading Jeconais original story, I abandoned any thought of doing a rewrite and focused instead on its subplot. – this was almost a toss away story, really – and involved two of Harry's best friends, who try (and failed) to hook him up on a blind date. This concept caught my interest. So I scraped the main story and I changed and expanded the sub-plot A-LOT. Thus; I avoid using 80% of the Melissa plotline and the queen of England bits too.

I do however like to give full credit for my inspiration… so, thanks … Jeconais

Rated M so as not to offend all those morality 'prigs' out there - my point here is I don't write smut ... period, but there is also adult level humor (in this tale) which will upset those that insist that all HP fan fiction be written for readers that are no more than twelve years of age. - Worst of all, Hermione is depicted as a 'mortal' that makes mistakes and that goes against ALL established (fan fiction) Cannon ... so if you are a big fan of the Goddess Granger, this story is not for you.

I am at heart, a HUGE Ron fan. - An American trying to 'write' British and failing miserably.

Alternate universe (AU): for obvious reasons that will jump out at you as you begin to read.

I write as if I am performing in a stage play – with noticeable gaps and pauses (theatrical beats) to simulate actual spoken dialog. Before you ask; I do know that my spelling sucks and my grammar is atrocious. If this offends you (and everything offends someone these days) then stop now and run away in dread.

* Author's disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my few readers. - In other words; her characters … 'Jeconis' original sub-plot story line … and my (usual) twisted version of it… savvy?

Mostly: Hermione's P.O.V.,

Enjoy

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Hallo.

My name is Hermione Granger, and this is my account of some of the events leading up to_ the day, and what happened on that day which is now, as infamous as it is famous.

Only, unlike other accounts of that historic event, I'm going to start with a secret – of how being a bossy-know-it-all, really embarrassed a couple of former Hogwarts girls, (but I got one of them a husband out of it … so that's a plus … isn't it?) In the process I humiliated myself beyond description and came extremely close to repercussions; that could have ruined the rest of my life.

If this painful episode taught me anything, it makes it crystal clear that I need to really listen to Ron more often, the git can be right … (some of the time). And secondly: I am NOT the 'infallible goddess' that some twisted Wizarding-fans of the national celebrity Granger … think that I am.

So, this is my 'warts' account (ugly but truthful) of the build up to that fateful day, and how I wandered blindly into it, secure in the knowledge that I knew better than Harry did; especially when it comes to what was good for him in the long run. – My goal was pure …I was just helping my best friend. - Who apparently; didn't need it … at all?

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It seemed like such a good idea.

Ron and I had crossed the final frontier, so to speak, and I was more than happy about it. Ron has certainly grown out of his jealousy phase - which is a good thing for him as well, otherwise; he'd never have crossed said sexual frontier with me. However; what really sealed the deal (for us) was what happened at Shell Cottage.

Anyway, these days … I am happy, content, and according to some people, much more relaxed than ever. You want me to prove it? (Why does no one believe me?) okay … how about this, not only did I tell a joke last week – (well I did) to the shock of a entire family of red-headed someone's, who shall remain nameless. - I even played a prank (in public) that no-one knows I did. George took the credit and I'm fine with that. – He says, he's defending his future sister-in-law and I smiled whenever he says things like that_ and I sure hope he's right

(I've botched-up things between us more often than Ron has – well, recently … anyway). Surprise-surprise … I make mistakes. – being in a relationship … well, stuff happens.

Most people know that normally, I don't do pranks … I don't believe in taking the mickey on someone (by humiliating them) just for a laugh and thankfully; Ron has been on the receiving end of so many sibling pranks - he too has lost any enjoyment in pulling them on others. 'I love him for that … but even I admit … that there are always exceptions to any policy.

I'm sure that Draco will recover the use of his reproductive equipment at some stage … Well, maybe he will (the pillock!). How dare he call me 'that' in public? - Dearest George called what I did, appropriate for a deserving snake, but to me, revenge might be a better word. I may be a Mudblood, but I am certainly not anyone's … Manky slag (whore).

I have also heard it said - that someone should have seduced me years ago. - -And I must say there is some merit to that idea. It's always been hard for me to get along with others, especially when I was younger. - My parents even had me in therapy for my anti-social behavior. - Anyway; my _Ron should be proud of me … for I refrained from hexing Charlie's 'naughty bits' into oblivion for calling me an asexual prig. – Apparently; peoples' options of me tend to go to extremes in both directions.

However: this crude comment on my sexuality had a plus side, for it led my thoughts to my (second) best friend in the entire world, Harry James Potter. - It's easy for me to see, that a lack of sex in his life, has made him far to tense for my linking.

Of course, he had the whole 'must save the world' thing on his shoulders, (for years) but he's promised me that he's done with that now. There is no denying that Harry had a horrible childhood and his Hogwarts days weren't all that much fun either. - So … in spite of experiences that would have sent anyone else to a padded cell … he's still remarkably grounded and I have often wondered why.

After years of reflection, I have determined that Harry Potter's sanity or at least the foundation of it (not from me if you're wondering) comes from his right hand man (best mate) who when we first met; I considered to be a hot-headed, intellectually challenged and extremely loyal …dolt.

I was brought up to believe that knowledge and intellect trumps everything else… period. So I naturally thought this barely literate, red-haired, country bumpkin was beneath me. I was on the other hand instantly attracted to the 'boy who lived' and was determined to become a-part of his inner circle. I thought he would be surrounded by an army of friends and admirers … nope.

He always was unusually suspicious of strangers and authority figures and rightfully so – as he seemed to have someone trying to kill him every other month. When his only friend (the red-headed nitwit) insulted me, this adorable boy sought me out during a troll attack and saved my life …well the bumpkin physically saved me – (but you know what I mean) - - Damsel in distress; knight in shining armor… held upside down by a troll … actually, no help at all - and rather helpless. - - Fairy tales don't last long when confronted by reality …do they? - - Oh never mind that now; it was the thought that really counts … more so than who does the actual deed. –

Year after year Ron was so consistently daft that … (oh never mind) but to offset his irritable qualities, my dad use to say that Ron had cart-loads of what he called common sense, which he predicted would rival (one day) my intellect. - At the time I thought such a notion – pure Rubbish, but now (years later) I wonder if my dad spoke more wisdom than he knew. – In spite of Ron's appalling manners, he was raised in the Wizarding world (unlike Harry and me) so this clod knew, like the back of his hand, all the customs and traditions of the Wizarding culture, (where we did not) and at first; I thought Harry kept him around as a- 'guide' -into this strange magical culture.

In many ways my black-haired hero was naively innocent and sweet, with both boys (as expected) somewhat clueless about us girls, until their mid to late teens. - Harry still is girl-clueless; actually - which is why his 'still single' status, is so bothersome. One of the differences between Harry and Ron as typical male idiots; is that post Hogwarts Ronald now towers over Harry (5'5" seeker's physique). - The red headed, is a muscular Adonis at nearly six feet tall and has been known to easily lift, an in a public insulting; Malfoy (a hate-filled bigot) up with one hand and hold him there while the ferret's eyes bulged and feet dangled mere inches above the atrium floor.

A very enjoyable sight, I must say.

Harry as a rule does not defend me or my honor (not physically) and frankly I don't generally need a defender (I fight my own battles; thank you) besides; Harry claims he doesn't have too … his former self-appointed bodyguard at school; really doesn't like anyone calling me bad names (like: Mudblood), especially when comes from a evil Malfoy. - And since we became a couple (happy sigh) it boils down to a race of who can react first. I hex and Ron gets …physical. After all these years one would think Draco would know better.

While we are on the subject of the male physique; Quidditch practice never did much good to Harry's body (the best seekers are scrawny buggers and height disadvantaged) Goal keepers on the other hand; are built like a old-time battleship, so naturally Ronald became quite yummy in a muscular sense - not that I ever noticed … well maybe I did (a-little). - What was wrong with me at Hogwarts? - -

(Oh yes- I was pursuing Harry – full time).

Bottom line here – there was a noticeable difference between seekers and goal-keepers – with the best example being whenever; Ron strips off his jersey (now) after practice – (he plays for a pub sponsored Quidditch team) just one sight of his overheated and sweat covered bare chest (hmm) – Sweet baby Maeve he's delicious … and better yet – He's mine!

(Again: don't ever tell him that I said that)

So …we had our adventures at school … out little romances, jealousies and arguments. But everything dramatically changed for me; after the Death-Eater's began the violent takeover of England's magical government (coup d'état). During the occupation which started on August 1st; we went camping (to hide) and it was there – (in late October) within that Manky tent - that the red-headed coward … deserted me and left a clueless Harry and me to solve the puzzle of the Horcruxes, on our own. –

That loser must have quickly come to regret his despicable action, because this retched deserter did provide logistical support to us during the hunt (dropped off monthly) meaning food supplies, toiletries, dish and laundry cleaning supplies, information (newspapers and transcripts of pirate radio broadcasts) and money

See what I mean … he did nothing for the war effort (the cowardly scum)

Why did Ron leave the tent … well that was complicated? Harry was clueless, Albus pensive memories proved worthless, the hunt was floundering, food was running out and Harry had broken up with Ginny (his first genuine girlfriend) He was deeply depressed and frustrated, without any idea where to go next. - In a vain attempt to brain storm a solution, Harry and I became 'thick as thieves' (second skin close) and Ron felt (left-out) like the third wheel on a pony cart. Ron had come to believe that I fancied Harry … and I did actually – but Harry kept shooting down my clumsy attempts to become a couple. - I wonder how Lavender did it - she made chatting-up boys look so easy?

In the tent … Ron noticed (with Ginny out of the picture; I saw an opportunity, which I pressed hard) and after a-bit, he had a few harsh words with Harry … which ended-up giving me an impossible choice. - Harry still thinks Ron left because there was no stratagem … no plan – (about the Horcruxes) … but I know better. - What followed was; tons of loneliness, regret beyond measure_ and a-lot of tears filled reflections on my priorities. - Harry was a rudderless ship without Ron and although we didn't starve due to dropped off supplies that Ron left us. - I didn't see him again, until 'after' the locket was destroyed… and even then; I called him names and gave this walking battleship a pathetically weak thrashing. - Time blurred after that, as I was in emotional turmoil – torn in different directions (a big mess) and the next thing I remembered clearly –was our captured by snatchers.

I will not describe what happed to me at Malfoy manner, (too painful) or how my entire romantic outlook went arse over elbows at Shell Cottage. Time seemed to blur for me a-lot during the hunt _and before I knew it the Riddle war was over

*The battle for Hogwarts … went pretty much the way the newspapers said it did

Voldemort ended-up dead, very dead. As did Snape and Malfoy senior – much to the delight of the sole Malfoy heir (Draco), who has inherited the entire family fortune - and numerous personal debts owed to his dad by other prominent Death Eaters.

From what I know, the final duel was messy, (I didn't see it … I was rather busy not dying) it was actually won because of an obscure technicality of wand lore; (Ron explained it to me) and it ranged over all of the ruins of Hogwarts. Voldemort thought he would win, because he had a special wand - - Harry decided he was going to win, because he had something that the dark-lord didn't have (Never did find out what that was) Harry should have lost … Harry should have died, he was just a kid and he fought against a heartless killer. Destiny can kick butt at times.

The tall and the short of it was - in the end …the little scamp went off and killed Voldemort all on his own. Dumbledore was gone and his secret resistance movement the- Order of the Phoenix - was all but wiped out on- 'day one' -of the Ministry takeover. - The red headed deserter, found two of the damn Horcruxes and destroyed them, (I don't know how … he won't tell me) that he did such a small thing - didn't make-up at all (in my mind) for his cowardly desertion.

"Voldemort is dead," Harry announced as he entered (alone) into the ruins of the Great Hall. "You'll find old Tom's body and some of his senior lieutenants' (Death Eaters) in the courtyard in front of here. I got Riddle and Ron got the rest. Now, would someone please find Hermione … (Ron and I had gotten separated 'somehow' during the fighting) and tell her it's over. Ron and I are knackered, (exhausted) so while Ron gets something to eat - I'm going to have a kip." He then turned and walked out, before any of us could even react to what he had said. - That the new national hero was coated in blood and body-bits is something I'd rather not think about.

Well, I was the first out of my seat, and was closely followed by Ginny and Charlie with loads of others at our heels. We searched the castle in vain for hours … until I found him by utilizing my famed intellect, I simply went and grabbed a 'worn out' Ron directly out of the kitchen. With a plate of food in one hand and a drink in the other, after a brief discussion (heated) during which he had the gall to tell me to_ sod-off _and to leave Harry alone (can't describe how infuriating he can be) - - As you can well guess however; I was not in the mood to listen to him (an ongoing problem … I really must work on) so I took him firmly by a pinched ear and made him show me Harry's bolt-hole (everyone at Hogwarts had one) mine was in the library (don't laugh)

Anyway: Ron led me through a few castle shortcuts, emerging into the hallway - just as Harry vanished into the Prefect's bathroom. Not being a Prefect or the head-boy; no one had thought to search for him there. Harry had actually used Ron's sixth year Prefect password (surprisingly it still worked) - Without a moment's hesitation, I boldly pulled Ron in after Harry and sealed the doors, Behind us.

"Hermione," Harry protested. "I really need a hot soak."

"You do," I fully agreed"; I said while holding my nose against the stink - "rather badly. – So don't let us stop you." There was no way I was letting him out of my sight, until I got a much needed explanation.

"Ron," Harry tried again, pleading with his best mate.

"Don't look to me, Harry," he advised. "I was just leaving. Three is a crowd when naked bathing is contemplated with_ your _girlfriend …"

"She is not my girlfriend … Harry shouted back

"…He's not my boyfriend" … I repeated a moment later said. "You are… you dolt".

I've already admitted that I fancied Harry for a-bit (four years actually) – and Historians will always wonder why I didn't get the 'Chosen One'. Truth was; there coexisted two cases of very strong unrequited love imbedded within: 'the golden trio'. - Ron's for me until Shell Cottage; and mine for Harry, who never was even remotely my boyfriend (Skeeter lied about that) – Besides; had it even been a-little true … I would never have meekly submitted to being called by that retro-sexist title.

I don't deny that before the hunt I did harbor impossible hopes of- 'being'- with the hero of the story; Harry (every single girl my age, hoped that same thing) but my 'gotcha' moment happen at Shell Cottage. To me … my stay at that cottage was the beginning, of my lifelong love affair (I Hope) to my devoted red-head. For it was there that I've finally realized that in Harry's 'priority list' I never made the top ten. Whereas on Ron's list, I was consistently number ONE. As a result of this belated revelation, it ended abruptly my school-girl crush on a story-book hero… as my romantic- 'sights' -switched (hard) and my heart locked on a far better prospective for lifelong happiness.

(Fast forward to the bit, right after the last battle) - - Ron was standing motionless at the bath door staring at me, in total gob-smacked disbelief at hearing me say he was my boyfriend. Did I mention – that I hadn't had time to verbalize my feelings for Ron, before this point? - - Of course I didn't say anything … I'm a terrible at that kind of thing. - Besides … he should have known without me telling him (boys are suppose to read girls minds …right?)!

Harry meanwhile just shrugged his shoulders at this news (I don't think he believed me either) as he pulled off his bloodied robes, and then his t-shirt, before he dropped his trousers - exposing everything. Apparently he went about (that entire day) without Grundies (underwear). - "Jealous?" he then asked Ron.

"Nah, not anymore; seen your 'dangly-bits' too many times in the showers to feel envy" Ron said coming out of his shocked stupor. "It's not your lack of size that'll get you into girl's knickers- 'old boy', it's your bloody_ 'wealth and fame' _that'll do that".

Harry thought it over for a-bit_ and then smiled (a little) in agreement.

"Hermione wants your 'willy' desperately, we both know that_ and in time she'll get you. You two most likely want to share a bath; get reacquainted and all …maybe a victory shag? - But if you don't mind I'll pass on a front row seat while you two are 'bunking up' - - and instead: I'll just take my leave." Ron said in a sad resigned tone

Harry nodded again, but this time he was clearly displeased with Ron's lack of perceptiveness over the girlfriend issue. With Harry standing in all his 'scrawny' glory by the roman tub, I became the first adult female to see him fully naked. That he wasn't embarrassed …that he didn't seem to care, that he didn't have a stiffy …only underscored his view, that we were no more that unrelated by blood siblings, – And since Shell Cottage I'm perfectly fine with that. - Harry wants me as a sister … all well and good. - Convincing Ron that I had changed my mind (at eighteen) in regards to my romantic aspiration was a very different issue. In any event Harry was too tired to argue anymore.

Ron turned to leave as Harry walked slowly into the steaming tub sighing with relief. - Meanwhile I had to take charge of the situation in regards to Ron. "Ronald Bilius" I shouted in my best (don't mess with me) angry tone – "You stay where you are."

He paused mid-step and said. "I rather not watch my two closet friends have hot-tub sex. – It's a tad too 'pervy' for my tastes", Ron said with a resigned look on his face.

"Ronald Bilius; if I do decide to have sex in the Prefect's bath, right now … it will be Harry that does the watching", I said as seductively as I could … (Hey give me a break here) it was my first time saying anything even remotely sexy.

Again I had rendered Ron speechless (this is getting to be fun) I just smiled and then I started taking off my robes off. "Now strip down, we'll talk about or new relationship in the bath."

"I'd rather not" Ron protested weakly.

"I fully agree … can't you two talk this over elsewhere, I'm really done in", Harry said and naturally I ignored him as this was important to Ron and I, our future as a couple was at stake.

"Ronald Bilius … Harry was never my boyfriend … he doesn't fancy me. - As I told you at Shell Cottage I had a_ gotcha _moment … a huge revelation of romantic clarity. Harry has over the last three years made it crystal clear that he does not fancy my type … not even a tiny fraction as much as you clearly do. _Seriously; how many times did anyone at Hogwarts ask me out?

"Exactly twice", Harry interjected his eyes closed – fighting to stay awake

"What you did for me at Malfoy Manor and later at Shell Cottage has finally made it clear to me that it is you that I should fancy and I vowed as I recovered in your brothers cottage; … that I would prove my newly found feelings for you - on your body, directly after the war … but that's for later - obviously. - For right now; we need to talk, so strip down and get in the tub … NOW!"

Ron ever so reluctantly nodded in silent agreement and started to remove the blood covered- 'hand me down'_ semi-rags that pretended to be his clothing, leaving on only his patched boxers. I was at first very disappointed; as I wanted to see the Meat! (There was a commercial … on the telly … oh, never mind) - - anyway I did get what I wanted (outlined anyway) because cotton boxers cling to a blokes body when wet (they also become deliciously transparent) - - ironically proving in more than one way, why Ron's wand was bigger. - We are talking a stonking packet here … SO YUMMY"

Hey … Have I surprised you? - - well, believe it or not … I'm not even remotely the big prude that everyone thinks I am (I'm just very picky about who gets my goods) - - That's another thing concerning my Ron, he does what I ask him to do, far more often than Harry (and that's really significant)

Meanwhile I removed my everyday jeans and top, striping down to my (plain Jane) bra and knickers. Now I've seen some (post-war) 'Fan art' of me (Harry has it too) and most of it makes me look like a centerfold model …and yes … I know what a center fold is (I mean honestly!) some little kids drawings have me as a stick-figure – others have my measurements exaggerated to the point of hysterical levels. – Bullocks, all of it!

My point is … I've always been very insecure about my body (most girls are) - For some unexplainable reason I felt conflicted in the Prefect's bath … I wanted Ron to see (what little figure - I have) but at the same time I didn't want Harry to see it … (does that make any sense?) - - This whole bath 'thingy' was yet another of my not so brilliant ideas, which I didn't properly think all the way through, before I set things in motion. - Ron then locked and muted the door_ and took a last bite of his sandwich before stepping into the water.

Shortly there-afterward Harry (to my horror) discovered that my bra turns transparent in water. He rolled his eyes at me when he pointed this out; chuckling softly as I fidgeted, both hands now covering my admittedly small breasts (32b) which meant I was unable to reach for a hand towel. "Go ahead, show Ron your … 'bee sting' sized fun-bags", he said with a casual sigh. (As if he's seen them countless times) "You've already warped me for life as it is."

Although I felt insulted by Harry's comment (my breasts aren't that tiny) truthfully; I can't compare to the way Cho or Ginny fill out a jumper. - In fact; I hadn't gotten the opportunity to show 'anyone' my bare bosom (not yet anyway) so my breast_ 'size' _can't be the reason for me to be freaking-out? _Could it be that; Ron seeing my … for the first time, could that … him … seeing my … was that why I was so nervous.

Logically, my behavior makes no sense; I had sun bathed plenty of times on the topless beaches of Monaco on Holiday, with my parents. - Secondly: I often went-about without a bra; not that anyone beside Seamus noticed … I preferred instead several tee-shirts under a blouse. - If the truth was told, I didn't need to wear a bra; but as I got older, I started wearing one again (in self-defense) after catching Seamus straining hard while looking at my jumper covered chest for any sign of pokies (that Irishman was a consistent, pervert).

So I went back to covering my bosom and here I was removing said item, in a 'Prefect tub' and marveling at the idea that I was topless in a hot tub with a mostly naked Ron and a very naked Harry Potter. A year ago, the chances of this happening were about the same as Snape joining the royal ballet to play the black swan. But I've grown up loads during the last few years (war tends to do that) and not just physically, although that was possibly the catalyst, but mentally as well.

Sometimes you have to accept that you can't win every battle. A house-elf named Tweaky taught me that. I tricked her into freedom. She started drinking shortly after that, and it was touch and go for a while as to whether she would even survive. Ron found out what I'd done and saved her – and me, he does that a lot; with Tweaky happily enslaved to his bloodline. - I'm not a fan of elf enslavement … but regretfully; freedom for them would automatically translate into racial suicide. - And that is even a worse idea.

It took Harry a lot of effort to help me 'get-over' what I had almost done – (killed a house-elf) and I needed a long talk with the elf in question for me to come to terms with this 'elf culture' mind-set. It was a hard lesson that I will never forget. I was mad at Ron for a-bit, thinking that there had to be another way, but there wasn't and now both my friends have a house-elf _ like the troll incident years earlier: Ron, Harry and I had been a lot closer since Tweaky's near death.

On a positive note, Tweaky has dramatically changed Ron's life, his clothing and flat are now spotlessly clean and his house elf is ecstatically happy because Ron (as a normal boy) is a messy slob. During the camping trip we saw each other in various states of undress in the tent (before Ron left) – which means I got to see on a daily basis the barely held together nature of Ron's hand me downs. After a while you do become somewhat desensitized to the rags Ron wore.

I saw Harry's far newer Y-fronts when he slept with me on the coldest of winter nights (for warmth reasons only) and the difference was striking - Of course when Ron came back that first time and he saw the widened cot pulled next to the heating stove … he knew we were sharing a bed, I wanted to say something and yet, I didn't. The next morning he was gone … again.

(Dammit)

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To be continued … maybe

**If Jeconais is okay with this, I'll keep going. He's got his own website and I've forgotten the username for both of my accounts. So I can't ask permission in advance (like I usually do). The slightest objection from him and I'll pull this in a heartbeat.