A/N: In order to understand where this is going you need to first read my story "The Night Visitor". Some ideas were 'borrowed' from Amber (aka Amber is a bit random). Well, the idea of Hermione being a drunk, anyways. And I own nothing. If I did I would not be writing fanfiction. Or would I?

1.

"No Harry, absolutely not!" Ron Weasly held his pointer finger up to Harry Potter's face to emphasize statement.

Harry did not try to debate Ron in the least; he simply stared at Ron and grinned crazily.

"Harry! I won't do it! No, absolutely not! Forget about it!" Ron swept his arms across one another as if to slice the air between himself and his friend.

"Dildo," Neville Longbottom intruded into the conversation.

Both boys turned to look at Neville. Harry frowned.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, mate?" Harry asked coolly.

"J-just…trying to be a part of whatever crazy adventures you're planning," Neville said cautiously.

"Fuck you mate," Ron said angrily, moving toward Neville threateningly.

Harry held his arm out to stay Ron's attack.

"No Ron. Not worth your time. Now, back to the business at hand," Harry and Ron proceeded to ignore Neville.

"Please Harry," Ron pleaded.

"Shut the fuck up and get in the position Weasly," Harry snapped his fingers authoritatively.

"Harry, bloody hell, calm down! I'm not going to teach you to kiss!" Ron shouted.

"I'm a real man! I'm a real man! I go pee-pee standing up!" Harry yelled hysterically.

Ron cocked an eyebrow.

"You need to take a chill pill, Pothead," Ron started to walk away but Harry stepped in his way.

"Ron."

"Harry."

"I love you," Harry said quickly.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

"What did you say?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I'll kill you."

"Shu-up Ron!"

"Kay."

Ron and Harry hugged, signifying the end of their conflict. Harry began to move slyly in towards Ron's lips. Ron became frightened and because of this he accidentally shit his pants.

"Oops," he backed out of the embrace sheepishly as strong fumes rose from his buttocks.

"Ron," Harry said disapprovingly, "that's disgusting."

"Sorry mate…" Ron mumbled as he waddled away to the boys' dormitory to clean himself up.

When Ron had reached the dormitory Harry and Neville looked at one another and began giggling.

"H-he fucking messed his slacks," Neville said through giggles.

"I know," Harry giggled, "what a deuce."

Their laughing increased to what could be classified as an 'insane cackle' and this lasted for seven solid minutes. When they had forgotten what they had been laughing about they both abruptly became silent and stared at one another for several seconds. Then Neville stood up, walked over to Harry and kissed him passionately. Harry fell completely under Neville's power and charm and they continued to make out until Professor Snape came charging though the portrait-hole, completely naked. Both parties froze and stared at one another. After a few seconds Harry pushed Neville away and made several quiet spitting noises over his shoulder, as if trying to rid himself of Neville's taste.

Snape, suddenly realizing his lack of clothing, tried to cover his unmentionables with his hands. He was unsuccessful and so he ran back out of the portrait-hole, cheeks aflame, nearly knocking over Hermione Granger who was stumbling in with a nearly-empty bottle of vodka. Hermione was an overachiever and she often used alcohol to coax away the constant feelings that she wasn't good enough. Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin had introduced her to her constant companion, Mr. Vodka, one night after finding Hermione crying over a B-minus grade that she had received on an assignment. She had also introduced Hermione to womanhood that night.

Hermione was completely oblivious to Snape's nude figure running past her. Her eyes were fixed on Neville Longbottom with a look of hatred and disgust. She quickly shoved Harry out of her way and began to accost Neville.

"Didjew tell Pansy Iwass breakin' up wid her?" Hermione clutched her vodka bottle, swayed dangerously and slurred her words.

"I haven't talked to Pansy since she kicked me in the shins and stole my pumpkin juice money three days ago, I swear it Herm!" Neville held his hands in front of his chest in defense.

"Yeah? Well I heard dif…diffff…..diffffereent," her mouth began to foam ever so slightly, "I heard you and Pansy were smoochin'," Hermione shoved the vodka bottle into Neville's chest.

"Ow! No, I…I haven't been smooching on anyone!"

"Hey!" Harry stepped foreword to protest.

"Yeah?" Hermione was close to tears, "well yer a…" and then she passed out cold, slamming into the Persian rug on the common room floor, the last of her vodka trickling out of its bottle.

"Jesus!" Neville exclaimed.

"Where!" Harry said with momentary excitement. When he realized that Neville was just making an exclamation he said, "Oh, just leave her there and she'll be up in a few hours," and he kicked Hermione softly in the head.

Ron came stumbling down the common room stairs soon after this wearing one of his younger sister Ginny's skirts. It was lacy and frilly and the color of buttercups on a summer morning.

"Ron, what in Oprah Winfrey's name are you sporting?" Harry said, shocked at the sight of Ron.

"All my pants are in the wash, mate," was all the explanation he could offer.

"You're a sad, sorry young fellow," Neville shook his head.

Ron moved to attack Neville once again but Harry spoke up, distracting him.

"Are you crazy Ron!" He said.

"Harry, you know I'm only wearing this because of a dire emergency!" Ron shouted back.

"Yes, but the color is all wrong with your skin tone, mate," Harry said expositorily.

"Oh, really?" Ron began to examine himself from every which angle.

"I think it's quite nice," a deep voice said from behind them.

Professor Snape had somehow appeared behind the group whilst they had been admiring Ron's apparel. Snape was now fully clothed in his Poe-esque wizarding robes. His demeanor had changed entirely with the addition of clothing and he was now a rather menacing figure, towering just over six feet above the adolescent boys and body of an unconscious drunk adolescent girl. He was obscuring something small, round, furry and blood red. It seemed to have limbs and other anthropomorphic features to it but it was balled up and shoved into a mesh laundry bag at the moment so its identity could only be guessed.

"Can we help you professor?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Potter, as a matter of fact you can," Snape stood like a statue.

"Well, with what?" Harry urged.

Snape held out the red, furry object encased in the mesh laundry basket.

"Would you be so kind as to dispose of this," he held the object at arm's length, as if he couldn't stand to touch it for long.

The boys gave one another a look of confusion. A muffled 'ahahaha' could be heard coming from the object.

"Erm, right professor. Of course," Harry made a grab for the object but Snape quickly pulled it back.

"Don't let it out of your sight until it is destroyed!" Snape shouted.

"Of course not professor," Neville said,

"And don't let that Granger girl touch it," He glanced at Hermione's body.

Harry took the mesh laundry bag away from Snape and relieved of his burden Snape glided from the common room.