Disclaimer: It's a crack fic. If you think I own this, I've got this bridge you might be interested in buying.
A/N: This is pure, undistilled crack. Blame my enabler, Zheuse – it was all his fault for running with me mentioning that meme (ya know, the one about the muggleborn in DADA who conjures a velociraptor as their patronus).
Warnings: There shouldn't be anything too disturbing herein. I don't think I even managed to use the word 'fuck'. Huh… Wonder if I'm getting sick? Anyway, as the title implies, these are all AUs and each segment is independent of one another. Don't like AUs? WTF you doin' readin' crackfic?
Five Patronii Hermione Could Have Had
Not Slippers
Harry didn't think Hermione's patronus really suited her. It was just… Too…
Cute.
Really.
It was small and fluffy and looked more like a lost pet than something that could scare off dementors. Or maybe a lost bedroom slipper.
That was, until it took a dislike to Malfoy's peacock.
Harry hadn't known a patronus could eat another patronus.
While the class stared in macabre fascination, Lupin just smiled at Hermione, than, inexplicably, said, "Consult the Book of Armaments!" in an overly-melodramatic tone.
From over near the door, Seamus exchanged a quick look of pleased surprise with Dean. He then replied, in a similarly melodramatic tone, "Armaments, chapter two, verses nine to twenty-one."
Dean opened his DADA book to a random page, then solemnly recited, "And Saint Attila raised the hand grenade up on high, saying, 'O Lord, bless this thy hand grenade, that with it thou mayst blow thine enemies to tiny bits in thy mercy.' And the Lord did grin. And the people did feast upon the lambs and sloths, and carp and anchovies, and orangutans and breakfast cereals, and fruit-bats and large chu–"
Seamus interrupted with, "Skip a bit, brother."
Dean turned a page in his book, then recited, "And the Lord spake, saying, 'First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin. Then shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shalt be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out! Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who, being naughty in my sight, shall snuff it."
"Amen," Seamus concluded.
All while this was going on, the psycho-killer-rabbit-on-PCP was quickly nomming its way through Greengrass' crow, Parkinson's Pomeranian, and Lavender's cat. The damn thing even managed to somehow swallow down the formless mist that Goyle'd managed to produce.
Hermione, wearing a grin the likes of which Harry had last seen on the photo of an upside-down great white shark, dispelled the patronus.
"Good work, Miss Granger," Professor Lupin said, then went on to dismiss the class.
No one, not even Harry, could really understand why Hermione, Seamus, Dean, and the professor all droned, "Pie lesu domine, dona eis requiem," all the way to lunch.
Too Bad it wasn't a Plymouth
It was a Saint Bernard.
It was slathering and growling menacingly at the Slytherin side of the DADA classroom.
Most of the Slytherins were huddled in a defensive crowd in the corner, several desks knocked over and providing a barrier. Hermione wondered what the Slytherins thought a desk barrier would do for them. It's not like a patronus can't just go straight though them, after all.
"Miss Granger?" the androgynous defense professor said her name with apparent concern and none of Umbitch's sickly faux-sweetness. "Might one ask why it seems that you're disappointed in having a rabid dog as a patronus?"
Hermione sighed and dispelled the patronus, turning to the defense teacher. Idly, she wondered how this one was going to try to kill her best friend come spring term. "It's just that, if I was going to have one of Mr. King's characters as my patronus, I'd rather been hoping for a '58 Plymouth Fury."
Puzzled the professor just shook her head. "Two feet on the symbolism of having a diseased patronus, due next class. Dismissed."
As she gathered up her books, Hermione could be heard quietly singing, "I hear ya knockin', but ya can't come in. I hear ya knockin', go back where ya been…"
Tentacular Horror
Hagrid startled at the wet-sounding thud against his door. He returned the kettle he'd been just about to hang over the fire to the table and crossed to the door. "Who's 'ere?" he called out. Fang lifted his head from where he'd been dozing on Hagrid's bed, then laid back down, uninterested.
There was another squelchy thud against the door in answer.
"Malfoy, if yer gone an' got yerself all tentacled again, just go on an' bother Ma'am Pomfrey about it, ya hear?" he grumbled as he opened the door.
The accusation against that blonde junior Death Eater died on his lips. "Hilda! What're you doin' here?" he hurriedly scooted out of the cabin and began drawing buckets of water up from his well to keep the giant squid happily wet.
A moment later, a breathless Hermione ran up and began helping. "I didn't mean to, I swear!" she babbled, between gasps for breath. "I really didn't mean to! I didn't think! I'm so sorry – it won't happen again! I promise!"
Hagrid couldn't pause in wetting down the squid, but he did manage to bark out, "Hermione! Calm down! I'm sure ya din't mean no harm, but I ain't so sure just what ya did."
"I was down by the lake, practicing my patronus," she said, still somewhat breathless. "I didn't realize – but then again, I couldn't really be sure that's what they ate! I suppose the squid's reaction proves the theory, though, doesn't it? And I guess it makes sense, what with modern whites preying on architeuthis –"
"Hermione!" Hagrid snapped, showing a rare burst of temper. "Yer babblin'! Now, ya said ya was down practicin' a patronus?"
Hermione traded a full bucket of water for an empty one and set to refilling it from the well. "Yes. My patronus scared the squid. I honestly didn't think it would, since patronii can't really cause any actual harm to anything but dementors."
That admission made Hagrid pause. "What sort of patronus could scare a giant squid?" It was his turn to sound a little breathless.
"After we get the squid back to the lake, I'll show you – but I don't think I'll have it swim, this time," Hermione replied.
It took about half an hour to get Hilda back into the lake. Facing away from it, Hermione looked up at Hagrid. "I first conjured it after supper a couple of nights ago, but it didn't really fit well in the library, so I came out here and saw it in its entirety today. And it just looked weird to me to see a sea creature 'swimming' through the air, so I had it drop into the lake. Your Lovecraftian tentacular horror came boiling up half a heartbeat later, and really, Hagrid, I'm sorry I scared it!"
"Nah, Hermione – I know ya din't mean it. Now, come on. Lemme see what scared ol' Hilda so badly she come knockin' on m'door."
"Alright," Hermione replied, retrieving her wand from her sleeve. "Expecto patronum."
A shark burst forth and 'swam' in the air in an enormous loop above the lake.
Hagrid let out an impressed whistle. "Din't know patronii could be bigger 'an real-life versions."
Hermione let out a small, embarrassed cough. "Um… Well, I'm pretty sure it's actually a little smaller than real ones were. It's Charcharodon megalodon. I think. They were supposed to be eighteen meters long. Great whites only get to about four meters long."
"'Were'?"
Hermione nodded. "Yeah. They went extinct about three and a half million years ago."
To Hermione's horror, Hagrid just looked thoughtful. "Ya sure on that? I 'eard tell what muggles thought was dinnersar bones are usually dragon remains."
That was news to Hermione. She felt a creeping chill slither down her spine. "Um, well, if you were thinking about adding a megalodon to the lake, I think the squid would rather you didn't."
Hagrid shrugged, his eyes never moving from the beautiful shark circling above the lake. "Still," he muttered. "'S sommat ta think about, innit?"
Catty
Hermione knew she'd done the spell properly. She'd seen a great big something finally coalesce out of the mist, but it had disappeared. She knew it hadn't dispelled – she could still fell the slight drain on her magic that meant it was still there. She raised her hand and patiently waited for the professor to come over.
While she waited, she heard Parkinson say, "Wait? Did you see that? It looked like a snake. Draco? Is your patronus a snake? If so, I think it just took off with my little doggie-woggie."
"Does it look like a snake, Parkinson?" Draco snarked. Hermione glanced over to see that the Slytherin was gesturing emphatically at a silvery peacock.
"Having trouble, dearie?" the almost-elderly female DADA professor asked Hermione.
"No, Professor Grannie," Hermione replied. "I did the spell. I know it worked. It's still working. But I don't know where my patro–"
An ear-splitting scream interrupted Hermione's conversation with their latest DADA prof. "What is that?!" Lavendar shrieked. "IT ATE MY POOR LITTLE KITTEN!"
Hermione spun around. "Oh," she said. "There it is." She motioned with her wand and the patronus, protesting loudly, slithered its way over to her. "Hmm… A little small for a Caederus americana. They're usually about twice this size."
Lavender shrieked again, "IT ATE MY CAT, GRANGER!"
"Oh, shush it – it's not like the cat was real, you know. It's just a patronus. Conjure another one." Hermione didn't even look up. "I wonder if this would have still been my patronus if I'd not seen that documentary about the men who discovered them out in Nevada last summer…" She shook her head to dismiss the thought and went back to examining her very own graboid.
"It ate my cat!" Lavender's shrieks faded off to sad whimpering noises.
Hermione stifled a smirk. I think I'll remind you of this reaction of yours the next time you chuck your hooker-heels at Crookshanks, you vain little slut. And don't think I haven't seen you making eyes at Ron. You're lucky all it ate was the damn cat.
Shits and Giggles
The dementors swarmed the battlefield, causing nearly as much damage to the Death Eaters' forces as to those defending the castle. Hermione had lost sight of both Ron and Harry nearly ten minutes prior, but she forced herself not to think too hard about that. She ducked a viciously orange curse, feeling both its malevolence and the creeping chill from the dementors.
Out of breath, she ducked behind a column. She quickly took a moment to down a cherry cordial as momentary defense against the Ringwraith-looking soul suckers. She then attempted to focus, only to be distracted by a sudden eruption of a golden dome of light in the very center of the worst fighting.
Ah, she thought. So that's where Harry got to. Too bad he's busy with the Lord High Death Gobbler. Guess that means the dementors are mine.
Despite their chill and aura of despair, Hermione smiled. She stepped out from behind the column, raised her wand, and bellowed, "Expecto patronum!"
As her patronus galloped forth, the battle immediately surrounding it was interrupted. Hermione could hear some screaming in terror, some cries of surprise, and one gleeful shout of 'awesome!'.
That little overheard shout turned Hermione's smile into an outright grin, and the patronus gained a bit more in substance. It reached where the dementors were clustered the thickest and let out an earth-shaking trumpet.
The noise was loud enough that everyone on the battlefield froze.
In the total silence that followed, Hermione's patronus stalked forwards to the stationary dementors. If asked, Hermione would have said they were trying to figure out what was going on.
"That's a good boy, Rex," Hermione murmured, as her forty-foot tall tyrannosaurus leaned down and roared in the 'face' of the lead dementor.
The dementor suddenly stiffened, and a mass of glowing silvery and golden light escaped from beneath its robes, before it crumbled to dust.
Faintly, Hermione could hear Voldemort ask, rather puzzled, "Did… Did the dementor just shit itself to death?"
"Yes!" Hermione shouted. "It did!" She focused back on her dinosaur. "Get 'em, Rex!"
Rex roared again, and the rest of the dementors decided discretion was the better part of valor and streaked out of there like black-and-grey comets. In lieu of his preferred snack, Rex aimed for the next-closest cloaked inhuman thing on the field.
It was said that Ron nearly died laughing when Harry told him the following morning that he was pretty sure the dementor wasn't the only thing to shit itself to death during the battle.
A/N2: Again, blame Zheuse for this. Damn enabler. Seriously, though, if you enjoy offbeat humor, you ought to search him out and read his Xander-centric AU (Buffy-verse, if you're unaware, 'Punishment' is its title, BTW).
Kindly lemme know what y'all think! Thanks in advance.