Author's Notes: Yet another messed-up POV chapter. But I fixed it. ^_^ I also fixed some stuff that was bugging me…out of character-ness and whatnot…and I inserted more mush…gotta love mush.

***

After the incident in the dungeons, Hermione Granger was not the same for a long time.

For weeks afterwards, she was very quiet and subdued, eating little and sleeping even less. Her robes began to hang off her, shadows began to appear beneath her eyes; even her hair, which usually was untamed and bushy when she didn't care for it, looked limp and lifeless. She was most content quietly spending time with Ron and Harry, or teaching. Professor McGonagall had offered her and Ron - who, to his chagrin, was forced to spend an entire night in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey in order to mend his broken leg - a few weeks off on "personal stress leave", but both had declined. Hermione felt that continuing her lessons brought a sense of normality to her day despite the less-than-normal ordeal she had just endured. Ron, however, had insisted on continuing his lessons as an excuse to stay out of the hospital wing and away from Madam Pomfrey.

Professor McGonagall had called an assembly the day after the nightmare in the dungeons, and had explained what happened to the students, insisting Dumbledore would want them to know. They were not told all the details, but they knew enough. Hermione's Arithmancy students were exceptionally kind to her, careful not mention the incident or question their teacher about it. Whether Professor McGonagall had ordered them to stay quiet, or if they decided to do so on their own, Hermione did not know.

Diana Drago, after spending nearly a week in the hospital wing nursing a few bad hex side-effects, emerged unscathed and unharmed, though the slightest bit shaken, even if she wouldn't admit it. It took the usually cold, self-confident Potions Mistress about a fortnight to return to normal. However, for a long time she seemed prone to hex students who surprised her or approached her from behind.

Albus Dumbledore, St. Mungo's Hospital was happy to report, made a miraculous recovery, awakening from his comatose state rather suddenly on the first of March. He had since been recovering splendidly, though he had been insisting rather stubbornly for some time that he was fit to return to Hogwarts. There was apparently an incident involving a lost wand and a persistent Dumbledore threatening to curse his doctor and a few nurses if they didn't allow him to return to Hogwarts immediately. The St. Mungo's staff was extremely pleased to have the headmaster awake and very much alert.

When it came to Hermione's two best friends, it seemed an unspoken rule not to discuss what had occurred in the dungeons in Hermione's presence. Ron and Harry instead chose to speak about lighter topics, even making attempts at jokes once and awhile. Hermione suspected they were doing this for her sake, since both of them had undoubtedly been in life-threatening situations before and weren't as shaken as she was after what had happened. Also, they weren't the ones who had been dating a psychotic imposter for a year and a half.

Any other time, Hermione would have objected to their ignorance of the matter for her sake, and for their ridiculously gentleman-like treatment of her; but this time, she was exceptionally grateful for it. She wasn't ready to talk about what had happened in the dungeons - it wasn't due to denial, as it had been during the period after Voldemort's death, but rather, Hermione felt that she had to slowly come to terms with what had happened. She often felt frustrated and furious with herself for not spotting Charles's true nature earlier. She felt that the entire ordeal Dumbledore - not to mention Roger Ramone, Paul White, and Dobby - had been through was her fault. However, the logical witch soon began to ignore this feeling of self-loathing, assuring herself rather matter-of-factly that if the Minister for Magic (who the real Charles had been employed under for many years) had been fooled, then she had not been the only one fooled.

Next, however, came an even worse feeling - that of doubt. Just when she had finally accepted the fact that Voldemort was dead and gone, a maniac had to come along and talk to him, as if he were still alive, waiting. No matter how many times Hermione told herself that Donovan Owens had been insane, she couldn't help harboring that tiny feeling of uncertainty.

***

It was sometime mid-April when Ron decided to stop being a gentleman.

The subject of Donovan Owens and the incident in the dungeons had been avoided for over a month. But once Hermione had gotten over her fit of self-hatred, she then began to feel something that could only be described as…repulsiveness. She'd let the psycho responsible for nearly killing Dumbledore kiss her. Hermione felt disgusted with herself. She was quiet and withdrawn most of the time, and she ate quite a lot of chocolate in frequent fits of self-pity. She supposed that Ron began to suspect things had only taken a turn for the worse when he discovered her consuming a rather large box of chocolate frogs in her classroom one bright, April morning.

"Hermione?"

Hermione jumped and promptly dropped a chocolate frog as Ron ducked into her classroom, one hand still tentatively on the doorknob.

"What are you…?" Ron began, and then trailed off. His eyes slowly moved from the chocolate smudged on her face, to the half-empty box of chocolate frogs, to the runaway frog, which had seen its opportunity and hurled itself out the window in a desperate attempt to escape the horrible fate its brethren had met.

"Nothing," Hermione replied hastily, grabbing the box of chocolate. "I…confiscated these from a student earlier this morning."

"You have chocolate on your face," Ron pointed out wryly, folding his arms.

"I most certainly do not!" Hermione retorted indignantly.

Ron opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it, shaking his head. He turned to grab a chair from behind one of the empty desks in the classroom, and Hermione's eyes darted to her reflection in the window. She hastily rubbed at a chocolate smudge at the corner of her lips, and then tried to stealthily stash the rest of the chocolate frogs in her desk just as Ron turned around, dragging a chair behind him.

"Hermione Josephine Granger!" he snapped, foiling her attempt to stash the chocolates away.


Hermione arched an eyebrow. "My middle name's Elizabeth…"

"Drop the chocolate," Ron said slowly.

Hermione glanced from the sweets to the stern-looking Auror, and then with a long sigh, she pushed the box of chocolate across her desk and towards Ron. He ceremoniously picked it up, walked across the room, and tossed the entire box of sweets out the window. Hermione gave a sigh as she watched several perfectly good chocolate specimens plummet to their doom below. She rested her chin on her hands as Ron pulled up a chair beside Hermione. Both of them sat there side-by-side for awhile, silently staring at their hands.

"May I be…er…blunt?" Ron inquired quietly after a few moments of silence.

Hermione sighed. "Go ahead."

Ron took a deep breath, looking awkward. He fidgeted in his chair. "I…don't mean to sound like an insensitive prat or anything. I realize you've been through…a lot. But honestly, Hermione…we can't keep pretending it didn't happen." He heaved a sigh and dared to glance up at her. Hermione's eyes were still fixated on her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap.

"You can't blame yourself, you know," Ron said in the gentlest tone she had ever heard him use. "You didn't know who he really was - you couldn't have. Dumbledore's okay, Harry's okay, I'm okay…no one's in danger anymore. That's what's important." Ron sighed again and ventured to place a hand on Hermione's arm. "It's just…I'm worried about you, Hermione," he finished.

"It's not that," came Hermione's muttered reply.

"What?"

"I mean I don't blame myself for what happened," Hermione elaborated. "Any more," she added.

Ron looked worried. "What's wrong, then?"

Hermione raised her head and looked Ron in the eye, feeling disgusted with herself. "I let him kiss me, Ron."

Ron blinked, at first looking puzzled. "Oh!" he finally blurted out awkwardly, a look of dawning comprehension on his face. "I'm…I'm …"

"He just…kept touching my face that night," Hermione put a hand to her cheek and shivered. "And I don't even want to think about what he was going to do with me afterwards…"

At this, a look of anger and loathing flitted across Ron's face, but he quickly masked it.

"I know Owens was mad," Hermione said very quickly before Ron could speak. Her eyes dropped to her lap again. "But what if he was right? What if he's still out there…biding his time…" she trailed off and shivered. After working so hard all year to overcome her fear of You-Know-Who's return, and what happened seven years ago in the dungeons, Donovan Owens had managed to resurrect her fear.

"What if…Vol…Vold…" Hermione closed her eyes, the syllables refusing to form on her lips.

Just say it, urged a little voice encouragingly. But her tongue suddenly felt thick and numb, and her attempts to speak the dreaded name freely, as Ron and Harry could, failed.

She then felt Ron's fingers under her chin; he tilted her face upwards so that her eyes would meet his. Ron's eyes were serious. "Hermione," he said firmly, "Voldemort is dead. He is not coming back."

Hermione's breath hitched, and she leaned across the arm of her chair to wrap her arms around Ron's neck. He silently hugged her back, holding her against him tightly. Hermione found a place where her head fit perfectly, right between Ron's neck and his shoulder, and she laid it there, feeling quiet and peaceful while he held her.

Reluctantly, after a few moments, they broke away. "Thanks," Hermione murmured, staring at the ground. In response, Ron reached out and awkwardly brushed a tear off her face. They sat in silence once more. There seemed to be so much to say, yet no words to say it with.

"Ron – " Hermione began, still not quite sure what she planned to say to him. But she was cut off as he abruptly leaned forward and caught her lips with his own. The kiss was soft, gentle, and brief, but it said more than either of them could ever have hoped to communicate with words. Ron broke away, blood rushing to his cheeks.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I…that probably wasn't the right time, I have no idea how to…how to go about doing this…"

A smile slowly formed on Hermione's lips. He could be cocky and self-assured; he even tried to pass himself off as charming. He was older, more mature, and had somehow learned to dance spectacularly. But he was still Ron, and that thought made her suddenly feel very warm inside.

"Look, if you…" Ron paused again, tongue-tied. It seemed to be costing him a lot of energy to say this. "I don't know if…what you said in the dungeons - if you really meant it, but…what I mean to say is if you…you're not…ready…to, er…well, I…I understand…"

Seeing the pathetic expression on Ron's face, and the hopeful look in his eyes that clearly told her he wouldn't really understand, Hermione felt a pull at her heartstrings. And then, without warning, she grabbed Ron by the front of his robes, pulled him towards her again, and did what she should have done weeks ago…months ago…years ago…a decade ago…

Hermione kissed Ron Weasley with all her might.

After recovering from the initial shock of it, Ron more than obligingly kissed back. The kiss was not as desperate as the one in the dungeons, but passionate and tender, sending shivers of delight up Hermione's spine.

Ron finally pulled away, breathing hard and fast. "Well, then," he said breathlessly, for lack of anything else to say.

Hermione smiled, heady with the emotions and adrenaline rushing through her. She leaned in to kiss him again, feeling warmth spread throughout her body as Ron's lips met hers. She already felt much better…a blissful sensation had slowly crept over her, erasing all thoughts of Donovan Owens or Charles Griney…

Something suddenly occurred to Hermione. Ron was still annoying, infuriating, stubborn, and occasionally stupid in a way that had nothing to do with intelligence, but Hermione loved him. She had unknowingly been in love with him since she was fourteen years old. She suspected that Ron had felt the same way, too.

And both of them had been too stubborn to do anything about it for ten years.

Without warning, Hermione laughed against Ron's lips.

"What?" demanded Ron, breaking away from her. He looked extremely offended as Hermione started laughing hysterically. "What?"

"We are both such stubborn idiots!" Hermione exclaimed between fits of laughter. A very puzzled Ron arched an eyebrow as, laughing, Hermione kissed him on the cheek and then pressed her lips to his again.

Suddenly, the two teachers were unexpectedly interrupted as the door to Hermione's classroom swung open. A familiar face, topped with a head of untidy black hair, appeared in the doorway. Embarrassed and surprised, Hermione and Ron both pulled away so hastily and forcefully that they had to grip Hermione's desk to keep from falling out of their respective chairs.

"Ah," said Harry delicately, surveying the scene before him. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Er…" Hermione began, very red in the face.

Harry suddenly shrugged. "Took you two long enough."

Hermione immediately flushed an even deeper red as Harry closed the door again, wearing an infectious grin. Ron's face split into a broad smile that could easily match Harry's. Hermione couldn't help it; she grinned too.

***

"So…allow me to get this straight. You saw me running down the steps to the dungeons, and then you saw another me turning the corner. And no one stopped to think, 'Hmm, that's odd'?"

Diana Drago raised an eyebrow, wearing an amused smirk. Ron's ears burned red with anger, or embarrassment, Hermione couldn't tell which.

Hermione had persuaded Ron and Harry to invite Diana to the Three Broomsticks for a drink as a sign of goodwill, as well as to explain to her everything that had happened. Harry had agreed that the Potions Mistress had a right to know everything, seeing as she had unwillingly played a major role in Owens's sick scheme for revenge. But Ron had been against it at first, acting as if he still held a grudge against Diana. In all likelihood, however, he was just embarrassed that he had been wrong about her. Finally, he'd reluctantly agreed to tag along.

After explaining their early suspicions that the lunatic was Diana herself over a few Butterbeers, the trio had brought themselves to the point in the story where the three of them had split up; Ron and Hermione had followed the shape shifter, while Harry had chased after the real Diana Drago, who hadn't been running from them at all; she had been hurrying a few stragglers to their common rooms, oblivious to the chase that was going on with her physical double.

Harry shrugged. "It didn't seem a priority at the time to figure out that minor detail," he said to Diana with a grin.

"You desperately need to re-think your priorities then, Potter."

"See, the thing about a fast-paced chase is that you don't quite have time to re-think your priorities."

"Touché," Diana said, grinning.

Ron cleared his throat. "If you two are quite done," he said irritably.

"I still don't understand why you people thought I was behind the attacks in the first place," Diana said, folding her arms.

Ron, who had swallowed much of his pride when they had first arrived to verbally apologize to Diana (after much coaxing, begging, and then yelling from Hermione), scowled bitterly. "Well, let's see…" he began sarcastically, but Hermione nonchalantly kicked him under the table. The hot-tempered Weasley unwillingly pressed his lips together, resigning himself to shooting Diana dark looks across the table instead. Hermione hoped Diana didn't notice, as they were all finally on semi-good terms with her.

She noticed.

"I would never hurt Albus Dumbledore," Diana said to Ron carefully, her eyes flashing in an unusual show of emotion. "Never."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat; they had left out the part about the Pensieve incident, instead telling Diana that they found out about her father's trial from Ministry papers which Ron had found for them - which was partly true. Hermione felt that Diana wouldn't take too kindly to finding out the three of them had watched her in her moment of weakness.

Before Ron could reply scathingly, Hermione cleared her throat and cut in. "Well, to make matters worse, there was a bit of a mix-up with the house-elves at first," she said. Ron slouched in his seat, arms folded across his chest as he glowered at Diana. "Because house-elves have some trouble with basic English pronunciation, you see…some sounds, particularly those containing the letters k, s, or g, are very hard for them to get their tongues around - their own dialect is far more flowing than our language, and - "

"So," Harry interrupted loudly, shooting an apologetic smile at Hermione. She realized she had been carrying on a bit and, though a bit miffed, allowed Harry to continue with the story. "At first they were saying Draco, so we were a bit confused at that - Ron thought you were this prat we knew at Hogwarts – "

"Draco?" Diana said, interested. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Yeah." Harry scowled.

Diana rolled her eyes and snorted. "I met him once at Durmstrang; his loaded snob of a father brought him there to 'see the grounds'. Personally, I think he was dealing Dark devices to Karkaroff."

"Surprise, surprise," Harry said wryly. "And Malfoy was probably begging to come along."

"Yes, he was quite the slimy little git, wasn't he?" Diana agreed. "He insinuated something quite disgusting involving myself and himself. So I gave him a good, hard kick in a rather private spot." Diana smiled in satisfaction, as if remembering it with relish.

Meanwhile, a grin had begun to form on Harry's face. "Did you really?" he said slowly, looking at Diana with new admiration. Grinning lopsidedly, he nodded towards the bar. "Next drink's on me, all right?"


If surprised at this sudden offer, Diana did not show it; she raised one black eyebrow and looked Harry up and down appraisingly. "All right," she said noncommittally.

"Cheers!" said Harry delightedly as the two stood up and crossed over to the bar, where Madam Rosmerta and a customer were laughing at something, both very red in the face.

Ron, meanwhile, was staring after them with a shocked look on his face, his mouth slightly agape. He slowly turned back to Hermione, eyes bulging. Hermione fought the urge to snicker.

"That did not just happen," Ron stated, pointing backwards wildly.

"Close your mouth," Hermione smirked. "You look like a fish."

Ron seemed to recover briefly enough to smile slyly. He glanced back to make sure Harry and Diana were out of earshot. "But an attractive fish, right?" he winked.

Hermione snorted. "Oh, very witty, Ron," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. He winked in response, nudging her foot with his own under the table in what he probably thought was a seductive manner.

"Oh that's mature." Hermione rolled her eyes again and gave his foot a swift, hard kick. This did not seem to hinder Ron's efforts; instead, he only grinned wider and kept nudging her foot.

"Ron, stop it," Hermione commanded across the table. "Ron!" she warned him again, but with an innocent look on his face and a mischievous one in his eyes, Ron continued.

"Ron!" she exclaimed, reflexes kicking in as her leg flew up and banged on the bottom of the wooden table. Ron instantly withdrew his foot and looked faultless and mildly disapproving as Diana and Harry returned, drinks in hand, and the rest of the Three Broomsticks turned to see what the cause of commotion was.

"Hermione, control yourself!" Ron reprimanded her loudly, trying not to grin. She shot him a glare that could kill as Harry and Diana, eyebrows raised, sat down again. Ron started looking sour once more as Diana smirked at him, taking a rather large sip of her drink. An awkward silence reigned.

"So…you chased me, and so on, Potter chased the real me, and then we both figured it out and went after you two to warn you," Diana finally said, obviously getting bored with the silence. She suddenly leaned forward. "But I'm curious to know what happened in the dungeons in the meantime."

Hermione swallowed hard, reluctant to recount this portion of the story, no matter how long ago she'd 'gotten over it'. But she was saved from recalling those gruesome events as Professor Kathleen Willows burst through the door of the Three Broomsticks and quickly scanned the pub. Her eyes lit up as she spotted the three of them and she hurriedly ran over to their table, cheeks flushed.

"They've come!" she said happily.

"Who's come, Kathleen?" Hermione asked, daring to hope for a moment that perhaps Dumbledore had returned.

"Not who," Professor Willows corrected her, shifting her weight from foot to foot impatiently. "The Mandrakes! Mademoiselle Leblanc from Beauxbatons promised to send some over by special owl delivery just as soon as the Mandrakes at Beauxbatons were mature enough for stewing, and Madam Pomfrey's just received them!" She said all of this extremely fast. The Herbology professor had felt it was somehow her fault that the Petrified victims had not yet awoken, even though the unfortunate Mandrake incident hadn't been her fault in the least.

"You need me to make the Restorative Draught, then?" Diana inquired.


Hermione pushed back her chair abruptly. "Right now?" she asked eagerly.

"If you could!" Kathleen was all smiles as Diana nodded then shrugged into her black robes, which she'd discarded on the back of her chair. Ron and Harry followed as Hermione and Professor Willows led the way out of the bar, Diana lagging somewhat behind them. She dropped into step beside Harry.

"So she throws a hysterical fit when someone kills her Mandrakes," she muttered incredulously, "But she's just fine and dandy with me chopping someone else's into itty bitty pieces and then stewing them?"

Ron made a sneezing noise that sounded somewhat like a rather rude insult.

"Bless you," Diana said coolly.

***

"Paul…Roger…can you hear me? Dobby?"

"Are they awake?" Madam Pomfrey demanded for the fifteenth time, attempting to push Hermione out of the way to get a better view of her unconscious patients. Surprisingly, Hermione gently but firmly pushed the hospital matron back.

"Please, Madam Pomfrey," she said, tight-lipped. Her patience was slowly wearing thin. They'd been trying to rouse the three Petrified victims from their enchanted sleep for an extremely tense hour. Diana stood in the corner, arms folded, her part in this having been fulfilled. A nervous Professor Willows had sunk into a chair a few moments ago, and was now bobbing her foot up and down restlessly. Harry, too, had stuck around, pacing the hospital wing impatiently with Professor McGonagall for company. Hermione sat by the victims, occasionally speaking their names or gently prodding them, hoping to jerk them out of their enchanted slumber. And Ron's official duty was to subdue Madam Pomfrey.

"They're my patients, young lady!" Madam Pomfrey said shrilly. "Besides, it's already been an hour!"

"Take it easy, Madam Pomfrey!" Ron tried, pulling her back. "It takes anywhere from an hour to a day for enchanted people to recover after the Mandrake Draught is given to them. Remember?"

Hermione remembered. She still remembered being roused after being Petrified for nearly two months in second year. She remembered a white fog that eventually formed into concerned faces peering down at her, and her mouth feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton. Then came pins and needles all over her body, and flashes of memory…an idea, the library, hurrying to find Ron and Harry, and then those terrifying yellow eyes in her handheld mirror. She wanted to ensure that these Petrified victims did not experience the same terror she had had when awakened.

"I think they're coming to!" Hermione exclaimed as Roger let out a low groan. His eyes fluttered open slowly, and he moved his rigid jaw around painstakingly, making a sickening, cracking noise. Everyone in the room, save Diana, flinched at the sound.

Roger parted his cracked lips, parched with lack of use, and only managed to moan, "What…the…hell…" before his vision cleared and he let out a hoarse shout at the sight of Diana.

"Ahhhhhhh!" he bellowed, cringing as he sat up and felt his unused muscles contract. Nevertheless he pointed at Diana frantically. "She tried to kill us!"

"Relax, Ramone," Diana said coolly. "It wasn't me; it was a psychotic ex-friend of my Death Eater father who was bent on revenge and also happened to be a shape-shifter."

Roger blinked. "Oh," he said, leaning back into his soft pillow and looking bewildered.

"My bloody head…" Paul groaned loudly as his eyes slowly opened just as Dobby abruptly bolted up in his small cot and screamed, "Nooooooooo!" then promptly fell out of the cot, tangled in his covers in a cocoon-like fashion. The house elf struggled violently against the sheets, which served only to further envelop himself within their tangle. Dobby let out a small whimper.

It took nearly two hours to untangle a frightened Dobby, relax Paul and Roger, then calm Madam Pomfrey, explain everything to Paul, Roger, and Dobby, then explain why they had not explained much of this to Professor McGonagall, and finally, calm Madam Pomfrey once again.

"So," Paul said slowly to a group of exhausted adults once everyone had settled down somewhat. Moonlight was now shining through the diamond-shaped windows of the hospital wing; the sun had vanished long ago. "Basically, Rodge and I have been unconscious for half the school year."

"Well…" Hermione hesitated. "Yes. Pretty much."

"Brilliant!" the two boys echoed, managing weak high-fives.

Hermione rolled her eyes, though her relief at the two boys behaving normally was obvious. She actually smiled at them, and then froze as she heard a familiar voice at the door.

"Not to worry – you will have plenty of time to catch up on your lessons during the summer," the voice said cheerfully. Everyone whirled around to see none other than Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorway, leaning heavily on his cane but giving off a liveliness, a radiance, which had not been present around the old man in many months.

"Albus!" a serious of female voices chorused in delighted surprise and relief. It was a true show of his increased health that he survived the barrage of people who immediately rushed over to him, nearly knocking him over. Sheepishly, Professors Granger, Willows, McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey stepped away from Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall shook out a handkerchief and blew her nose rather loudly.

"Great to see you again, sir," said a beaming Harry as he and Ron stepped forward to shake the headmaster's hand. Dumbledore clasped both the Aurors' hands very tightly before Diana Drago, arms folded, approached and stuck out her own hand.

"Took you long enough," she said, a genuine smile on her face, no sarcasm present in her icy eyes. "Thought you would've escaped from St. Mungo's in the night by now."

"It's wonderful to see you too, Professor." Dumbledore smiled the sort of smile a man shares with his daughter. He squeezed her white hand just before releasing it.

"Why? Where'd he go?" Roger asked in mild curiosity. But the packed hospital wing was now far too busy to notice the young boy's questions. "Hello? Anyone…?"

"Dobby is taking a vacation," Dobby moaned to himself, holding his head and sitting on the floor atop the disheveled mess which once had been his sheets.

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And now…the review song of old that you've all been waiting for…the infamous…Dobby's Song.

*Piano plays intro as a spotlight suddenly shines on a shadowy, small figure. The figure turns around only to reveal…*

Dobby: *wearing John Travolta's outfit from Saturday Night Fever*

First I was afraid, I was Petrified!

See, I thought that ol' Diana was on the bad guy's side.

And then I spent so many nights thinkin' how I was so wrong,

But I stayed strong…and now I'm singing you this song!

'Cause now I'm back! From unconsciousness!

I just got tangled in my sheets, oh how embarrassing is this?

I should've knit some socks for Harry 'cause he got another scar,

I think I will! The wool store isn't very far!

Woah now I'll go! Walk out the door!

Just turn around now…'cause I'm off to the wool store!

Maybe when I come back I'll read some fanfics,

And I'll review! 'Cause if I didn't I'd be thick!

Oh no not I! I will review!

Yeah, as long as I know how to type I'll write you something new!

I've got all these fics to read, I've got all my reviews to leave,

And I'll review! I will review! Hey, hey!

For a hilarious picture depicting the above review song, visit my website at: ;