I don't own any of this, except maybe the plot. Tis a shame I don't get paid for it though. Whatever, enough of that. I think that I'm going to have just four chapters in this whole story. It's short, so sue me. Whatever, I don't care, as long as I get at least one review.

"My name is Hermione Granger, and I am obsessed with Harry Potter."

"Hi, Hermione," the people around me chorused back.

Then the leader spoke. "So, Hermione, do you know exactly why you're obsessed with this particular person?"

I shuddered, her voice was soft and annoying. So, I gave her a strange look, and replied, "I don't think that's any of your business."

She spoke again. Yay. "Now, Hermione. You're here for a reason. I'm trying to help you realize your problem, so that you can go back into the world and try to straighten out your life."

You know what, I don't like this woman. "So? What if I don't want to tell you my problem? It's not like this is any of your business what goes on in my mind. I mean, so what, big deal. Is it bad to think that a guy has way gorgeous eyes, a charming smile, great personality, and a firm tush?"

I roll my eyes, knowing full well what her answer will be. So, I drown it out. I start talking to the pink hippo. You see, the pink hippo only turns different colors when his mood changes. Like he's blue when he's depressed. Green when he's sad. Yellow when he's sick. The only time I don't like him is when he's red. It means he is either angry or his bowels stopped working.

Well, today, the hippo isn't pink, but he's yellow, so he's hibernating right now. So, again my thoughts take control over me. I'm lost in a sea of Harry Potter. Oh, those eyes. He's so gorgeous. I can't help it, I can feel drool starting to slide down my chin. 'Stop it, Hermione, get a hold of yourself.' It's too late. The waves are now whacking me on top of the head.

My thoughts drag me back to our sixth year. I was following Harry down the staircase, I don't know where he was headed. The staircase had started to move. I sighed as I watched him walk away. All that hard work for nothing. My knee gave out as I walked back up the steps. I stumbled and tumbled down the rest of the stairs. Groaning and getting up, I heard footsteps. I ran up the stairs, yet again, but this time minus the tripping.

As I ran up the hall that I was just in a few minutes ago, I saw someone else running ahead of me. I got an idea. Once again, I tripped, purposely. I let out a loud yelp of pain. The person ahead of me stopped. I was playing this very carefully. I started to act like I was crying. It was working. The person turned around and started walking toward me. Curiosity overcame me. I looked up, and into the eyes of Ronald Weasley.

I know this is short, but it's got a point. It might be a little to weird for your taste, but it's different from what anybody else has written, I bet.