Disclaimer: Harry Potter (and any other names/places/etc) you recognize belong to their respective owners who are not me.
It quickly became apparent to Hermione that for her research, a more efficient method of inscribing complicated runic arrays on various surfaces should be the next step on her list for Taking the Ministry by Storm Before Leaving Adolescence v3.2. Luckily, step one (which was titled Decide to Make a Profit from Your Best Friends and Feel No Remorse) had already been completed without a hitch when she opened up a small chain of stores selling self-help materials. Harry and Ron, much as she loved them, had yet to notice the brand logo adorning their clothes and school supplies, and to make life even sweeter, some simple fool had started selling her company delightful speeches on a variety of topics for much less than they were worth. The woman's voice used for the speeches was irritating and preachy (and oddly familiar), but Hermione couldn't deny the effects of the commanding tone on customers.
Friday hops were now an integral part of the Plan, and Hermione decided to find her co-conspirators for a quick alternate 'verse adventure before the evening's prefect meeting. 'One day,' she daydreamed while weighing the benefits of brainwashing Harry and Ron to usefulness, 'I am going to obtain a friend who has enough sense to keep track of my appointments for me instead of the other way around.' It was a tough call, but once again the possible benefits of intelligent, self-aware friends proved to be no match for the usefulness of test dummies. So, Hermione collected her minions from their break room and left her best-selling Self-Confidence is Best Achieved when You Succeed at Something Else lecture tape and an updated catalog by the greenhouses where Neville would surely find them.
Harry and Ron were flying in lazy circles above the quidditch pitch, avoiding all contact with the prefects, professors, and plague hosts of the school. A bout of extremely vicious colds had just bounced through the castle like Peeves with a free supply of dungbombs, and the prefects and professors had begun hunting for anyone with so much as a sniffle and dragging all plague ridden students to Madam Pomfrey. Harry's tendency to land in the Hospital Wing for a few weeks every year meant he avoided that entire floor of the castle as often as possible-and after seeing poor Colin Creevey after his run in with the newly enhanced Snape-brewed Pepper-Up... well.
Harry and his sniffles were not going to visit that evil woman until after the yearly Voldemort plot culmination, thank you very much.
"Harry, I told you to visit Pomfrey before we left!" Harry avoided looking at Hermione, sheepish but still triumphant. He had put quite a bit of work into avoiding the professors/prefects, and even with the cloak and map he had been forced to take many long detours.
"It's not like anything bad will happen, Mione, it's just a cold." Besides, he wasn't going to miss the newest 'verse unless Voldemort showed up for his yearly monologue.
Ron, however, chose this moment to switch from his normal vacant happiness to intelligent pessimism.
"I will haunt you forever if we die, Harry. Haunt. You. Forever."
Hermione decided to take the easy road and ignore the blathering. 'For all that Harry is so paranoid aboutt Voldemort, one would think he would worry about other things, like, say, getting sick? At least he doesn't act like-' A giant pillow flew from the right side of the room, where Harry had been talking at Ron, to the left side, where Ron had been brooding at Harry.
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE WEASLEY!"
'Oh nevermind.' She continued drawing blue chalk lines across the floor. According to her new calculations, blue chalk would keep to the nature of the runes without loss of purpose. White chalk, her original choice, had the propensity to turn the casters inside out (she had no wish to test that, after running her calculations four different times and getting the same gruesome result). Shuffling the boys into the center of the array, she began her incantation.
Unfortunately, right as she was about to finish her chant several poorly timed events happened and threw off her concentration. The door to the room burst open to allow entrance to Neville Longbottom; Harry sneezed so hard an accidental magic earthquake originated in the room and was felt all they way out in Hogsmeade, and Hermione screamed "What the fuck are you doing?" at the two disruptions. Harry managed to completely erase one of the controlling runes for the transport, Neville was dreadfully confused, Hermione never finished her chant, and the Room lit up with an ominous yellow light before imploding.
An unknown amount of time later, Ron began to wake up. Taking stock of himself, noting the pain emanating from the back of his head and more importantly the pain from his empty stomach, he realized his threat of haunting Harry forever would go unfulfilled this week.
He prodded Neville with his foot and pinched Harry's arm, both slowly waking up and joining him to sneak away from passed-out-with-angry-face-intact Hermione while they still could. The Room was a mess but seemed to be using its internal magic to clean up the bits of stone that had fallen out of the walls and ceiling, glass from the windows Hermione always used when she designed the room, and a strangely black and yellow striped puddle with the consistency of mashed potatoes. Because she was their best friend and a terrifying genius to rival Voldemort (not that he would want Hermione as his nemesis, either), Harry cast a quick heal-all charm at Hermione as he ducked out of the newly repaired door, taking off after Ron and Neville to safety.
Hermione felt the spell wash over her as she was already waking up, still furious. Resisting the urge to scream about dunderheaded Gryffindor classmates and from the terror of waking in the same place after feeling the distinct boomerang pull of her rune transportation, she decided a bit of research was in order before venturing after the idio-um, traveling companions.
Conveniently, the Room offered a pile of history books, a comfortable chair, and a bottle of firewhiskey for her use.
After meeting in the hallway, Harry, Ron, and Neville remembered that Hermione would be less likely to find them if they split up. So, Ron quickly realized he had lost hours out cold on the Room of Requirement floor, and headed to the kitchen to acquire fortification of the desert persuasion. Neville decided he didn't want to be pulled into another strange adventure, returning Hermione's things wasn't worth the pain that was sure to follow, and the newest seedlings in greenhouse two needed new fertilizer. Harry waited until the other two weren't looking and snuck off to his Secret Hideout in the dungeons (first used by the Marauders to spy on Slytherin targets).
Pulling out his trusty Marauders' Map, Harry searched the hallways for a clear route to the dungeons. Or at least, he would have, if the Map wasn't completely blank, and unresponsive to the password. Glaring at the injustice of some people being rude enough to accidentally magically erase the map (and completely ignoring that it was his own fault for not being cured when he first noticed his cold), Harry stalked off to his spot, determined to hide from authority like normal people.
Neville, on the other hand, whistled cheerfully on the way to the Entrance Hall. It might have been because of Hermione's lecture tapes that he Most Certainly Did Not Listen To How Could You Say Such A Thing!, but Neville was mostly sure his good mood came from the abundance of yellow in the castle. Because yellow reminded him of that one plant... from that one time. Yeah, that was it. Good times, good times.
"Cherry pie and apple pie and rhubarb pie and pumpkin pie and delicious mushroom pie..." The house elves were amazed after the first seventeen pies had been listed. At this point, after a solid eighty two, they were in awe of the Boy-Who-Eats, and couldn't wait to get started on an order that would surely take all of the house elf energy that could be found. It was a good day for Hogwarts elves when a Wheezy was sorted, and this one's appetite was even larger than the rest.
"HOLY HOGWARTS, A HISTORY! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE YESTERDAY!"
Hermione sprinted through the castle, hoping to find the boys before things got too crazy. With dawning horror, she had read through the Room supplied history books as Helga Hufflepuff became the most successful dark lord in history, with her and her compatriots' spawn keeping control of the Ministry and of Hogwarts since the coup she had staged three years after the founding of Hogwarts. No one was sure, but the currently accepted rumor was that the entire thing was Slytherin's fault, having insulted her supposed 'ineptitude' for accepting all comers just once too often. Hufflepuff then went on a rampage, flattening him and his pureblood ideals with a few well placed neutering curses, ending several of the most bigoted lines in one fell swoop. Eventually, magical Britain and its muggle counterpart had slowly evolved to the point that there were enforced equal treatment rules, with utterly devious punishments too heinous for words for those who dared resist.
Knowing those three like she did, it was likely the extremists had already captured Harry and Ron and were attempting to put them through re-education as she ran. Neville, she hoped, was keeping his head down and mouth shut.
"Halt, citizeness!" Oh dear.
"Yes, prefect?" There was no way she would ever look at Justin Finch-Fletchley the same way again. As a member of the 'Puff Police (she stifled a nervous giggle at the thought), that replaced the old discipline system about the time of the Spanish Inquisition of her home universe, Justin wore a full suit of armor and a bright yellow cape decorated with a badger. Also, he carried around an axe in addition to the ceremonial sword, which meant he could accuse, try, and sentence her on the spot if she so much as hinted at inequality. Fleetingly, she wished the prefects at home had this sort of power, even if it would be difficult to reach upper shelves in the library while being fully armored.
"You are hereby ordered to attend the re-education of Citizens Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom, commencing shortly. Make your way to the Grave Offenses Education Center. Glory to Hufflepuff!"
"And a lonely death to her enemies!" Hermione stumbled on the reply, and held her breath hoping the normally rather dim Justin didn't notice. Luckily, he nodded and continued on his way; Hermione started sprinting again as soon as he turned the corner.
She skidded onto the front lawn, gaping at the milling crowd of students waving pitchforks at three figures tied to stakes in the middle of what should have been the Quidditch Pitch.
As she neared the front of the crowd (who was thankfully ignoring her in their anger), she noticed that the three boys had been spelled to appear metallic, and that a black hooded executioner character was standing next to a locked crate of frenzied nifflers. Pausing to consider the strange mindset that had overtaken the world to come up with such an encouragement to change behavior, Hermione made sure the boys could see her death glare and accio-ed Harry's cloak. Hiding herself and racing to the leftmost stake where Ron was screaming at everyone in sight, she quickly began the difficult process of drawing a large rune array with a disillusioned piece of chalk.
"Citizen Longbottom! You are hereby charged with malicious intentions, by neglecting to acknowledge Citizeness Bones and Citizen Corner in the west staircases-how do you plea?" Neville only whimpered. "He does not deny-he is guilty Citizens! The punishment is Re-Education!"
The crowd cheered loudly. Neville appeared to be just this side of conscious, with Ron and Harry not far behind, and Hermione found herself drawing faster, making sure to avoid the rabid spectators.
"Citizen Weasley, Citizen Potter! You are hereby charged with the slanderous attack of the noble Toclafane house, by referring to its citizens by the traitor's label of Slytherin-how do you plea?"
"Why should we show respect to those slimy Slytherins, eh? What have the sneaky bastards ever done for us?" Anything else Ron might have said to get him in deeper trouble was drowned out by the booing of the crowd. Harry seemed to have noticed that anything he said would be used against him, and might have noted Hermione's foot sticking out of the cloak as she drew the last rune and began chanting quietly. Since three of their party was currently incapacitated, Hermione chose to use the unfortunate mishap from the last jump to send them across universes as fireballs, instead of opening up a doorway. The first part of the punishment, namely the complete submersion in honey then feathers (left over from earlier punishments of branding cowards and traitors as literal chickens), was over and the nifflers were being released when the grounds flashed brightly, leaving behind three burning pillars and an angry, confused mob.
The room had long since repaired itself from the superficial burns upon the students' entrance when Ron finally dredged up the courage to speak again.
"Let's just pretend this never happened." Neville was the first to nod, gaining control of his legs and sprinting out the door to avoid the golden trio for at least the next week. Harry shivered violently, adding a vehement "sounds good to me," but Hermione sniffed and would only agree under one condition.
"Same time next week?"