In the last chapter:

Ron and Draco have finally realized that they didn't really hate each other, it was just their way of compensating for latent homosexual feelings. well actually they did hate each other, but slash writers like our theory better. So they snogged, not realizing that Harry would soon pull a Natalie. If you don't know what that means, go read the last chapter and put it in context. Now, what they also don't know is that Harry realizes that Draco should only be slashed with HIM, being that Ron is not special enough. He and Hermione hatch a Machiavellian (I LOVE THAT WORD) plan to break them up, giving them both a chance to snag Draco and Ron, respectively. At the same time, Ginny and Hermione are plotting to get the fourth year girl to go with Harry. However, Hermione's the only one who realizes the authors are completely disturbed and insane.

Beginning of chapter:

It was still. The only sound was a faint dripping from the ceiling and the quiet shuffle and flutter of robes as he swept across the dank room. The tubes, the bottles, the capsules in front of him glimmered softly in the barely-lit room. He glared at them. It came naturally.

He finally unscrewed the first tube, and with the inexperience of a true amateur, twisted its bottom. He was rewarded by a jutting out of grapefruit- pink lipstick, perfectly shaped, never used. Examining it dourly, he finally resigned himself to applying it. Running its dryish top over his thin lip, he wondered if he should just give up and leave this to his fanta-

NO! He had to do it. For. for his sanity's sake! He ran it across again, rewarded by a lusher, more vibrant colour. Each coat made him look even prettier and prettier, like a beautiful pink princess. Oh, but they never let him play princess. They left him out at the unicorn rainbow smiley tea party, they screamed when he tried to play dollies. with renewed vigor, he dropped the lipstick to the table and unscrewed the mascara, yanking out the wand dripping in thick black inky black stuff, like oil for his lashes. Beautiful. He applied it not-so-carefully and daintily admired the thick clumps perched haphazardly around his eyes. Blinking flirtily, he knew that this was how he was meant to be.

The Gryffindor common room was filled with squirming students, attempting to memorize their Potions ingredients. Snape's wrath was nothing to mess with. Neville looked particularly nervous, because he was missing his "lucky" toad. lucky being used loosely here. After all, there are many forms of luck. Ask me to tell you about it some day, my child. The only person not concerned about homework was, interestingly enough, Hermione Granger. She knew that Ron was hiding his little boy-toy up there. She also knew that they were going to have to come down eventually. No one can stay in Ron's bed too long.

And lo and behold, who would appear but Ron Weasely, with a rather large lump in his robes and an extra pair of legs wrapped around his waist, arms clutched around Ron for dear life. Strangely enough, no one seemed to notice but Ms. Granger. She glared haughtily at Ron, who cocked his head and finally said,

"Oy, Hermione, what's wrong with you?"

"Who's under your robe?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level but failing.

"Ah. um." Ron muttered. His entire face turned as red as his. oh, come on, you know the cliché. Suddenly, there was a girlish squeal and Draco fell out of his robes, flat onto his guilty little butt (that was quite sore I may add). Hermione's already out of character rage flew into hyperdrive.

"THAT'S IT, YOU BITCH!" Hermione grabbed her wand out of her waistpocket and pointed it at him like it was a sword or dagger or something cooler than a piece of wood with a feather in it. "YOU AND ME. OUTSIDE. NOW."

"We. can't." Draco said feebly, groping for Ron's hand, looking for all the world like a little child that just saw a big scary clown. ".I mean. I. Ron."

"ALRIGHT!" Hermione said, still talking in all caps. "THEN WE'RE TAKING IT." She thought desperately. Where could they go that would have the proper atmosphere for a fight to the death?

"Snape's dungeon," she proclaimed, talking calmer now. "We will fight for Ron's love in the dungeon."

"O.okay."

Hermione ran through the hallways, needing to get to the dungeon first. She knew, from her vast storage of knowledge and amazing noseyness, that Snape was out buying some new materials for the next Potions unit. Therefore, she'd have a perfect opportunity to slaughter that little blonde TWIT.

Ron and Draco lagged along slower, not wanting to face their opponent. Actually, it was because they were snogging, and it's damn hard to walk while your face is suctioned onto another's. Finally, they stumbled upon the fighting area.

Hermione had pushed the tables away with the extraordinary powers of her anger, and had her wand drawn (how dorky does that sound?) and prepared for action.

Draco grabbed his wand and wondered what to do. He then dropped it, because Hermione was going to go first and there's no messing with Hermione when she's this OOC.

Hermione thrust her wand forward and said dramatically, "Umbrastoltusosa!" A huge "stupid shadow" shot out of her wand, because this is the meaning of the stupid Latin phrase that Tomoyo asked Audig to make up at eleven p.m. This attack was so mysterious that it immediately blew up the cauldron immediately behind Draco that Ms. Granger accidentally pointed at. At the explosion, a figure rushed out of a back room, robes aflutter. A trail of glitter followed.her?

It was certainly no one that they remembered. Her skin was pallid and waxy- looking, most likely because she had layers of pale foundation smeared over her face-bar the two neon pink blotches on her cheekbones. Her lips were orange-pink, and the colour bled outside her lips, and on second inspection, onto her teeth. And her eyes-well, her lashes were fat as sausages, and her eyeshadow was a colour of turquoise blue only found in the bargain bin of K-Mart. To top off the look, there was a sad looking tiara atop her greasy, limp black hair, tilted to the side in her mad dash. She lifted a claw-like hand, covered in sparkly pink body glitter, and grabbed Hermione's shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Professor Snape asked coldly, watching her squirm under his Barbie-pink nails. She gasped but didn't say anything, just staring in shock at his getup.

"She's a he! She's Professor Snape!" Ron was babbling, backing to the door. "She. she's made. up."

"GET OUT!" screamed Snape suddenly, his voice taking on a valleygirl pitch. "JUST GO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ME AT ALL! I HATE YOU! GO AWAY!" He stomped his feet and exhaled noisily. Quietly picking up his wand, Draco exited with the two others, looking shocked and scarred for life.

Hermione knew she had to tell Harry. She ran up the corridors, driven by fear and anguish. "HARRY!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "HAAARRY!"

The Gryffindor common room seemed completely empty. A fire flickered and spat from the hearth, and Hermione finally realized that the chair in front of it was occupied. The back was turned to her, but she knew.

"Harry?" she said, quietly. She stepped forward, but the sudden spinning of the chair stopped her. Harry sat there, a serene smile on his face, holding a box of Bernie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. His smile grew wider and he held up a black-purple bean towards Hermione, as though it was a peace offering.

"This one's Snape flavour."

Hermione's eyes grew wider, and she looked up in desperation.

She knew the truth.

She finally looked back down, snapped "How do you know what that crossdresser tastes like?" and ran to bed, her head filled with thoughts of revenge and anarchy.

The authors laughed, ominously. Oh yes, dear Hermione was right. It was indeed to be an interesting story.